If someone came to me with a story like this I would probably call bullshit, too.
“So . . . you’re telling me that you came in contact with a Drocain warrior . . .” The Doctor wanted verification.
Alana nodded.
“One who chose to let you live.”
“I’m still here, aren’t I?.”
“And he willingly gave you his name?”
“It’s crazy, Doctor, I know—but it is true.”
“I don’t doubt you, Alana,” Chambers reassured her as she opened her desk drawer, pulling out a black tablet and a matching stylus. “You said the warrior didn’t resemble any known Drocain species. Do you think it would be possible for you to draw him?”
Alana shrugged and took the tablet from the Doctor’s hands. She couldn’t draw all that well, but thought she might as well give it a shot.
. . . Easy to tell apart from the other warriors, she thought. Gray skin, brown hair on his head and tail, webbed hands and feet . . . she paused, realizing that she was forgetting one very distinct feature that she had never seen on any other warrior before. It wasn’t a species trait, not a natural occurrence.
Alana sketched in the three tubes she’d noticed bowing outward from a metal plate on his throat. They seemed highly inconvenient, sticking out the way they did.
When she finished her sketch, she returned the tablet.
Dr. Chambers examined the drawing, tapping her lower lip thoughtfully with her index finger. Looking to a circular device sitting on her desk, she said, “Orion, I require your assistance.”
The pulsating dot in the center of the projector brightened and the holo-image of a man flashed into existence. The hood of his cloak was drawn over his head, casting a shadow over a pair of dark brown eyes that glittered with flecks of gold.
So this was the Doctor’s famous AI.
He was a remarkable construct with twelve years of service, meaning he had surpassed the expected AI lifespan by three years, and, having achieved the highest intelligence of any known AI, had been tasked with operating both this building’s systems and those of the Hornet’s Nest.
Orion was one of few constructs who displayed any sort of real emotion. He had been described as cocky, charming, and, on the rare occasion, morose and irascible. He was also known to have a rather disturbing sense of humor, many of his jokes deriving from serious matters or gruesome situations.
He was unique in appearance as well—with the pointed ears of a mythological elf and a pair of huge, black-feathered wings sprouting from his back. Dark smoke flowed from the feathers and swirled around his feet, giving him an almost sinister image. His body was wrapped in many layers of elaborate, onyx-colored cloaks that pulsed with streaks of turquoise and orange light.
“Yes, Doctor?” His voice was smooth, and he spoke with a rich English accent.
“Analyze this, please.” She slid the thin tablet in front of the AI and he looked at it inquisitively. “I want you to search the entire database; see if you can gather any info on this guy.”
The AI nodded his head slowly and took the antique, leather-bound book hanging from the belt around his waist. Flipping the cover open, he closed his eyes and held a hand out over the brown-tinted pages. Quivering, they began to flip over rapidly. Orion’s image grew brighter and brighter as he entered the database.
After a few short seconds, the pages ceased their turning and the AI opened his eyes.
“There is no record of this particular species in any of the unrestricted data streams,” he said. “However, I have found traces of his origin in more recent documents filed by Sergeant Major Jeffrey Shepherd.” Waving a gloved hand over the book, he summoned up the holographic images of a planet and its two moons. “This warrior is of the same origin as the eihler and reighe—the parent species’ of the creatures we have come to know as tyliven. They come from a planet called Dyre, which resides in the Phoenix System. It has a nitrogen-oxygen atmosphere and is roughly the size of Anahk. Photographs taken by Sector Three’s data collection probes show much of the flora to be bioluminescent.”
Orion brought up another image of a more familiar world.
“Overall the planet bears a strong resemblance to Thei’legh, and from the files I recovered it seems that those who inhabit Dyre may share similarities with the Leh’kin. But, unless you wish for me to go searching through the Bureau’s more controlled archives, that is all the information currently available to us. Personally I think it would be a terrible idea to hack into their databanks at this time—”
“At any time!” Alana interjected sharply.
“Yes, well the only alternative method to gathering this information would be to capture this one particular specimen, and bring him back here so we can poke and prod at him to our hearts’ content. Maybe even cut a nice capital ‘Y’ in his torso to get a good look inside and see just how similar he is to the Leh’kin. I, myself, am quite curious as to why he is the only one of his kind to have been reported in the past ten years.” Orion shrugged his shoulders and closed the spell book.
“Oh, hell no,” Alana exclaimed, noticing Dr. Chambers’ contemplative expression. “No, no, no—you can’t seriously be thinking of trying to pull that stunt off!”
“Why not?” the Doctor argued. “The warrior didn’t push any offensive actions against you when you carelessly disarmed yourself. I wouldn’t even be going in with a bullet-proof vest, let alone a loaded firearm.”
“He’s probably regrouped with his squad by now, and there’s no doubt in my mind that they will shoot you down without hesitation!”
“Then I’ll get a team of Headhunters put together. They can take out the other warriors while I sedate the primary target.”
“What if they’re not willing to help you?”
“I can be very persuasive.”
“And what if the warrior is already dead?”
“I’ll send out a team to retrieve his body.”
Alana clutched her head and turned away from Dr. Chambers as she fought the urge to scream.
How could the Doctor not see how insane her plan was? What she was wanting to do was beyond stupid! If she took a team of Headhunters out with her, she might not only get them killed, but she could get caught in the crossfire, or be left without protection. Whether she posed a threat or not, she would be considered a target.
That warrior could have left the planet for all I know!
Even if he hadn’t, surely there would be no easy way to track him down—not with the immense size of Calypsis’ marshlands. They stretched out for hundreds of thousands of kilometers.
With an annoyed huff, Dr. Chambers stood and stuffed her hands into her pockets, clearly frustrated. “What about the camera in your helmet?”
“I wasn’t wearing my helmet—if I had been, I could have just shown you my mission log instead of having to sketch up some piece of crap on a tablet.”
“Care to hear my opinion?” Orion asked.
Chambers sighed and nodded to him.
“With respect, Doctor, Carmen does have a point—this warrior could have gone anywhere by now,” he said. “And she might also be an exception to him for a deeper reason beyond the fact that she disarmed herself in his presence. I would also like to point out that there is something going on here that neither you nor I are currently aware of, thus I believe it would be wise for you not to press any further questions. The girl is under enough stress as it is,” the AI finished, casting a look at the Corporal that made her feel weak in the knees.
He had seen right through her, but how?
It was creepy, but she was thankful that he understood it wasn’t her place to reveal anything more. Knowing it would interest the Doctor, the only thing she had come here to share was her story of the Drocain warrior.
Though, the Calypsis Project might also interest her, she thought.
While studies of the plague and the Leh’kin were the Doctor’s first and foremost concerns, she often liked to indulge herself w
ith things outside of her professions—such as the study of Drocain technology and the development of UNPD armaments.
Dr. Chambers retrieved the tablet from her desk and scrutinized the picture some more. “I do wish to find out more about this character. He trusts you, Alana. To some degree, anyway. Keep your helmet on next time you see him, alright?”
“What makes you think I’ll be seeing him again?” Alana asked, brow cocked.
“Oh, nothing. It’s just a feeling.”
Really, what were the chances of her meeting the warrior again? It would be like trying to find a needle in a haystack—No, that was an understatement. It would literally be like trying to locate an untraceable target within an entire galaxy.
Besides, if she ever did see him again, their conversation would probably be related to the Calypsis Project, so even if he was caught on camera, the Doctor wouldn’t be allowed to see the footage anyway.
“Carmen.”
The voice of her team’s leader emitted from her headset and she held up a finger to indicate to the Doctor to excuse her for a minute. She then said to Jenkinson, “I’m listening.”
“We need you to get back to the base ASAP. Shepherd’s issued an attack on the Drocain hideout in the mountains and he wants everyone prepped for battle . . . Or, well, Nicholas has with Shepherd’s consent.”
Why now—when the hideout had been up in those mountains for several years already? The Sergeant Major had never once considered taking the fight to the camp; he always said it was ‘too risky’ because no one knew what kind of artillery the lizards had up there.
“Roger that, Jenkinson. See you in ten.” She cut the connection, then fixed a hard stare on the Doctor and warned her not to go searching for the strange warrior. When she was sure the message was clear, she said, “I’ll be seeing you around, Doc.”
Dr. Chambers simply gave her a small smile, then returned to her desk and reactivated the security systems. She opened the laboratory door, and Alana left for the Hornet’s Nest in a hurry.
———PART II———
THE WEAPON
Chapter
———NINE———
1200 Hours, December 02, 2438 (Earth Calendar) / Drocain hideout, Terrak Mountain Range, planet Calypsis
Metal barricades encircled the perimeter of the Drocain mountain encampment. Snipers were poised on the ledges jutting out from the cliff face that served as the hideout’s west wall, and turrets were mounted onto the stone ledge that overlooked a walkway one hundred feet below—the same path that the young Drahkori warrior had taken to get up here.
It looked like this place had been attacked recently. The majority of the warriors here were injured, and there were smears of both human and Drocain blood on the gray stone—still fresh. Splinters of metal, bullet casings, and shards of glass littered the ground.
Kenon had arrived a couple of hours ago and only managed to get a few moments to speak privately with the Ship Commander before the blue warrior disappeared into the crowds again to tend to the remaining thirty-odd warriors of his crew. However, he had heard enough, and he’d promised to try and establish communications with those higher in the chain of command to pass on the information regarding the Calypsis Project.
As long as word got through to someone who knew how to deal with the news properly, Kenon would be satisfied.
Levian soon reappeared and joined the young warrior on the ledge where he was resting with his creature companion, gazing out over the marshland hundreds of meters away.
With the Ship Commander came bad tidings.
“I was not able to pass the word on to the Royalty caste,” he reported.
“It is fine,” Kenon sighed, disappointed. “We are at the start of a new day. We still have time to relay our findings.”
“That we most certainly do.”
The tone in the Ship Commander’s voice made Kenon turn around, head tilted in question. Now that Levian had the Drahkori’s full, undivided attention, he had an announcement to make.
“We have been summoned by Her Majesty the Queen.”
Kenon now stood in the cockpit of the same battered dropship that Phero, Suro, and Levian had used to get from the crashed carrier to the mountain hideout, and he found himself gazing blankly ahead at the forward viewscreen that displayed only empty black space and a few distant stars.
It wasn’t the view that held his gaze in place, but rather the disconcerting thought he’d been mulling over since he left Calypsis.
Why would a monarch summon someone as low in the ranks as I?
He could understand if she had summoned the Ship Commander and no one else, but a Minor with very little experience in a real battle? He couldn’t get his head around it no matter how hard he tried.
The flicker of light on the viewscreen drew him away from the troubling feelings that plagued him and when he squinted his eyes to focus on it, he saw that the dropship was rapidly approaching a massive space station.
The Drocain High City: Oreva Alkastoran.
A station like no other—an edifice of striking magnificence, wrapped in an almost daunting air of royalty, and guarded by a defense fleet of more than six hundred Royalty-Class vessels. It was a jellyfish-shaped structure that measured an incredible two hundred and ninety-three kilometers from the top of its bulbous head to the end of its stem—making it the largest constructed habitat in the whole of the Empire. Thousands of docking tethers spread outward from its stalk, rotating and extending to catch and release vessels.
As the dropship neared, one of the docking tethers stretched out and caught it in a constraint field, drew the craft through a shield door and into one of the station’s docking bays, then brought it to a halt.
The Ship Commander and the young warrior exited the cockpit and descended the gravity lift.
The bay was large and rounded, and very quickly becoming crowded by golden-armored warriors who must have belonged to the Royalty caste. They were gathering beneath their elaborate dropships, preparing armaments for transport—getting ready to head out for battle.
But something about their behavior seemed very odd. They spoke to each other in hushed tones, purposely keeping their voices low, and every once in a while they would throw wary, almost judgmental, glances in the Drahkori’s direction.
It was discomforting, to say the least.
Kenon was about to ask Levian if he knew what was going on, but when he turned around, two royal guards were walking their way. His question would have to wait. The guards escorted them to the lift on the far side of the docking bay.
It was a quiet ride up the shaft. No words were exchanged, as there was nothing to say. Neither of the warriors had any idea why they had been summoned here by the Queen, all they knew was that they had important news to pass on, and this would be their only chance to relay that news directly to the ruler of the Empire.
That is the only thing that matters right now.
Passing through the scarlet drapes at the end, the warriors emerged into the throne room, and fixed their gazes upon the monarch.
Seated in a throne of gold was the Queen. Her translucent white robes flowed like water to the floor, and the purple spherules of light decorating her headdress cast an almost eerie glow upon her shoulders.
Her appearance was unusual, unlike any other Drocain species in the Empire. She had a long skull that bore a flat, human-like face and a pair of large, elliptical eyes. Her body structure was also strangely humanesque.
Flanking Her Majesty’s throne were a pair of royal guards. Both wore elegant golden armor and were equipped with staves. They stood motionless, their long faces without expression—almost as if they had been carved from stone.
Stopping before the dais, the Drahkori and the Ship Commander got down on their knees, lowering their heads in a courteous bow, and then rose at the Queen’s command.
“Greetings, Your Majesty,” Levian said serenely, straightening up as best he could on his injured leg. “I must say, it is
a great honor to be in your presence once again.”
“As to be expected,” the monarch said with a haughty smirk, the tip of her tail flicking from side to side.
Kenon would never have predicted that the first words to come out of the Queen’s mouth would show her to be nothing more than another vainglorious ruler. Hoping to meet somebody more altruistic for a change, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed.
“I have seen the state of your ship,” the Queen said. “Tell me, Levian, what happened?”
The Ship Commander did not waver. “We were attacked following our arrival at Calypsis,” he explained. “Due to the extent of the damages, I have come to the conclusion that the carrier’s hull was punctured by a minimum of three electromagnetic railgun rounds launched from multiple orbital defense platforms. The humans were successful in destroying the ship’s engine core, and with no control over the vessel, we were sent on a collision course with the planet. There was nothing I could do but evacuate the crew, and even that did not save all of them. Many were either killed in their escape pods upon impact or slaughtered in the marshlands by humans. The few that survived sought refuge in the mountains.”
“A fateful event. Those lost will be mourned,” the Queen sympathized. “Nevertheless, I will assign you a new crew, and your ship shall be returned within time. It was recovered from Calypsis several hours ago and is currently undergoing repairs. If no mistakes are made, I assume the vessel will be ready for you within the hour. In any case,” she said. “You have yet to report the condition of the communications unit you recovered from Anahk.”
“The device no longer resides within the ship. It is likely that it has made its way into human hands. I have failed you, my Queen, and for that I am sorry.”
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