by Anna Carven
He waited in the dark room until the heat died down, before stepping back into the passage.
The last of the Xargek larvae had been burnt to a crisp.
He was sure that was all of them. He’d scoured the ship, losing track of time as he hunted them down. He wasn’t sure how they’d entered Silence, but his bet was that they’d come in through the giant holes they’d made in the side of the warship. How they’d damaged the hull in the first place was still a mystery, but with the Xargek, anything was possible.
Fucking monsters. There was seemingly no logic to their actions, and yet they shared a kind of hive intelligence. Adult Xargek were particularly difficult opponents to kill, and since they’d spread throughout the Nine Galaxies, the First Division had become experts at killing them.
Applied with repetition and force, the claws of a mature Xargek could tear through any known material in the Universe, and their destructive power was aided by the corrosive venom they secreted.
It was what made them so deadly.
He stalked past dying blue embers and tiny flames, moving up one level to the weapons store. He’d passed every level on this ship twice, scouring it for Xargek larvae. He’d killed around a dozen of them in various stages of their life-cycle, and he swore the larvae he’d just burned were the last of them, but one could never be too sure.
Kalan liked being alone in the darkness. He liked the silence. He liked using the skills he’d honed through endless sessions of training and combat. He lived to track, hunt, and kill, and he was damn good at it.
Usually, he preferred to be alone.
Civilian Kordolians and aliens usually irritated the fuck out of him. He didn’t know how to deal with their incessant babbling and non-military nonsense.
But for some reason, he hadn’t minded that Human female, Jia.
And by the time he’d finally let her go, watching as she strode down the ramp and back into her workspace, he’d developed a raging hard-on.
Maybe it had been her scent, or the way her slender hips had moved as she’d walked in front of him. Maybe he’d been driven to distraction imagining how she might look without her baggy worker’s outfit.
Shit. He wasn’t thinking about fucking her, was he?
He’d break her in two, not to mention that she was a Human.
The buzz of Kalan’s comm interrupted his thoughts.
“Hey Kal, can you get down here? I need you to replace me on the floor for a while. The General’s called in a med-evac.”
“Someone’s hurt?” It couldn’t be one of the First Division, unless someone had engaged an adult Xargek and come out on the wrong end.
“No details yet. But I’ve got orders from the Genreal.”
“Got it. Let me get some plasma charges and I’ll be right down.”
Kalan rushed to the weapons store and loaded up. The plasma cannon strapped to his back took high-powered charges that were quickly depleted. He grabbed an extra hand-gun and a long knife that he strapped to his thigh.
Kalan exited Silence and found Rykal and the First Division’s medic, Zyara, waiting with a hover-stretcher and med-evac kit. They acknowledged Kalan as he took over the sentry position.
He was only one Kordolian watching over dozens of Humans as they worked on the damaged warship, but the Humans had yet to show any sign of dissent.
They were terrified of plasma weapons and of Kordolian speed and strength. The General had quickly gained their co-operation through targeted intimidation, something he did very well.
As Rykal and Zyara took off, Kalan studied the Humans working on Silence. They’d made significant progress since he’d first entered Silence, and a large portion of the biggest tear was now covered with thick metal plates. They were using a crude looking technique, drilling holes through layers and bolting them together.
A robot was doing all the work, supervised by a small Human who was standing on a platform, wearing a protective mask. Sparks flew and a loud shrieking noise irritated his sensitive ears.
There was something familiar about the way the masked Human moved. It had to be her under that mask; Kalan was sure of it.
A plume of smoke started to rise from the robot, and its drilling rhythm became jerky. All of a sudden, it stopped.
The chemical smell of machine smoke reached Kalan’s nose. The Human ripped off her mask, and Kalan recognized Jia; his instinct had been correct. She said something low and guttural in her Human language.
Then, she jumped off the platform, which was raised to a level equivalent to her height. She dropped gracefully to her feet, as if she had done this a hundred times before, and strode across the gleaming white floor to speak to a male Human, who was chewing on something.
The discussion quickly became heated. Jia began gesticulating with her hands, trying to emphasize her point.
The male was standing over her, trying to use his height to intimidate her. A low growl rose in Kalan’s throat.
Jia’s voice held a definite note of frustration.
Kalan began to walk slowly across to where the Humans stood, aware that he was attracting furtive glances from the majority of the Humans.
It didn’t bother him; he was used to such fearful scrutiny.
He came up behind the Human male, so silently the man didn’t realize it at first. Jia looked up, her eyes widening in alarm. She tried to signal him with a minute shake of her head, as if to say: go away.
“What seems to be the problem?” Kalan asked in Universal, his tone deceptively mild. At the sound of his voice, the man spun around in alarm. Jia shot Kalan a pointed stare, which he ignored.
“N-nothing, Kordolian,” the man stuttered nervously. “We were just having a little discussion about our engineering plans. My subordinate here was just getting back to work.”
For some reason, hearing him refer to Jia as a ‘subordinate’ didn’t go down too well with Kalan. He didn’t like it.
“In fact,” the man continued, “Morgan here was just going to go down to the grease pits and find a replacement part for the drill-bot.”
Jia glared at the Human. “There’s a perfectly good drill-bot sitting over there,” she murmured, her eyes flicking in the direction of a similar machine. “We could get it up and running in minutes. Repairing the existing one will take at least an hour.”
“Is this true?” Kalan stepped between them, using his size to intimidate the man. He easily towered over the Human, who edged away slightly. If there was anyone who knew about using size to intimidate, it was Kalan.
“That’s the backup machine, and the last of our working drill-bots,” the Human said uneasily, shoving his hands into deep pockets. His noisy, incessant chewing was beginning to annoy Kalan. “We can’t afford to have it blow out as well. We’d jeopardize our whole production line.”
“I don’t care about what you can and can’t afford, and I don’t care about your timelines,” Kalan growled. “I will consider anyone who causes delay to this ship’s repairs an enemy. Do you want to make an enemy of the Kordolian Empire, Human?”
The man paled, his thick features turning almost-white. He swallowed, and whatever he’d been chewing on became lodged in his throat, causing him to cough.
Jia stepped around him, standing so close to Kalan they were almost touching. He inhaled her scent. It was a mixture of grease and burnt metal and something unidentifiable, something impossibly sweet, reminding him of a bloom from an exotic planet. It mingled with her unique, feminine musk. He inhaled deeply, savoring the fragrance.
There was something honest and pure about her.
Kalan felt a sudden urge to be alone with her.
“Nearly finished,” she said quietly, as the male Human continued to cough, his face turning a deep shade of red. “We just need to seal up the big hole. Some of the smaller ones can be patched up with StopGap, an expandable polymer. It should hold for the return trip, at the very least.”
Finally, the male Human spat out a small white ball of something
soft and chewy, placing it in a wrapper and storing it in his pocket. Whatever it was looked and smelt disgusting. Kalan glared at him with contempt.
That’s when his comm buzzed again. “First Division.” It was the General. “Be aware that our little Xargek problem has now increased by a factor of a hundred.”
Kalan cursed under his breath as the General continued with his instructions. They were to eliminate all Xargek from this station before leaving. Such an explosion in Xargek numbers could only mean one thing: an adult, full of larvae, had discharged its young.
“What’s wrong?” Jia looked up at him with concern in her dark eyes.
“Nothing,” Kalan said abruptly. No need to unnecessarily alarm the Humans. “Get back to work.”
“Yes, boss,” Jia said, sounding slightly amused. Kalan shot her a dark look as she winked and trotted across to the working drill-bot. She used a panel to activate some controls and the machine started to roll across the floor of its own volition.
She yelled something in Human-speak to an offsider who stood on the drilling deck. The other robot was decommissioned as the new one was put into place.
Jia climbed a small ladder that led to the drilling platform. She moved quickly. Underneath those shapeless work garments was a quick, agile body. Kalan wanted to see her without those unflattering clothes on.
He wanted to run his fingers over her bare skin and feel it. On the surface, Humans appeared be physically similar to Kordolians.
Kalan wanted to see for himself if the similarities extended to… other areas.
Kaiin’s hells. He was supposed to be on guard duty, and here he was, fantasizing about naked Humans.
Well, one Human in particular.
Since when had he become such a horny bastard?
Kalan let his thoughts run as he scanned the scene before him, watching each Human in turn. They were harmless creatures, really. He’d observed their physical capabilities and found them wanting.
So why did his attention keep diverting back to this female, Jia?
Kalan watched as she conversed with her colleague, before flipping her mask back on and resuming the drilling.
He found the sight of her working unbelievably sexy.
A Human? Was he nuts?
Kalan was getting an erection again, and there was nothing he could do about it.
Fuck.
He seethed with pent-up desire, and all he could do was watch. So he stared at her as she worked, oblivious to his scrutiny, until a commotion on the other side of the dock stole his attention.
Kalan looked over his shoulder and saw the General and Zyara running across the dock, Humans scattering before them. They were accompanied by a blond woman who Kalan recognized as the leader of the small Human military unit. A hover-stretcher floated by Zyara’s side. Attached to it were various lines and monitors.
Jia seemed to have noticed as well, because she stopped what she was doing, dropped her mask and jumped off the platform. Then, she ran. She ran straight towards General Tarak al Akkadian, but the obvious source of her distress was the Human on the stretcher.
An unconscious female lay there, the lower half of her body mangled beyond recognition. The General held Jia back with one hand as she struggled against him. Jia’s concern for her friend overrode any sense of fear or awareness of the fact that the one who held her back was a General of the Empire.
Kalan thought about intervening, but he really didn’t know what was going on, and he trusted the General. So for now, he watched.
Jia looked livid. She demanded answers from the General without hesitation, her voice rising in pitch as Tarak continued to hold her back. She began to curse in Human language, and the General, losing patience, grabbed both of her arms in an attempt to calm her down.
The injured Human on the stretcher was moved into Silence under Zyara’s guidance.
Still, Jia argued with the General, but she was a little calmer now. Kalan was about to go over there, but it seemed Akkadian finally had the situation under control. “How long until the hull is serviceable?” The General’s low voice drifted across the floor, and all around them, Humans stared on in shock.
No doubt the sight of their injured comrade had unnerved them.
Jia blinked, as if suddenly realizing her precarious position. “We’ve got one more patch to do,” she answered cautiously, “then she’ll be serviceable. Obviously, you’ll want to do permanent repairs when you get her back to your planet, but she’ll be good for at least a week.”
Kalan was surprised when she put her hands on her hips, narrowing her eyes. “You’d better take care of her, General, or I’ll be coming after you.”
No-one made demands of the most feared General in the Kordolian military, but this small Human female had just glared at Akkadian with all the fierceness she could muster.
It was an idle threat, but the meaning and intention were clear. She cared for her friend, and wanted to make sure the General would keep her safe.
Kalan didn’t know whether to laugh or admire her.
The General raised a pale eyebrow, his expression unreadable. “She’s my responsibility now, mechanic,” he said, an unusual amount of gravitas in his voice, “and I don’t take my responsibilities lightly.”
Kalan wondered what the hell had happened to make his commander so concerned about the welfare of one Human female, but he didn’t question his boss’s decisions.
General Tarak had a developed a reputation as a shrewd commander. He’d led the First Division and half of the Kordolian fleet through wars and hostile invasions and bloody battles with the Xargek. He was ruthless with his enemies and fair with his troops and he hadn’t made a wrong move yet.
His rise to the rank of General was a feat that was written into military folklore. Common born Kordolians didn’t get high-ranking posts in the military, but Akkadian had caught the attention of the late Emperor Ilhan, who some say had gone mad in the time before his death.
Against the will of the nobles, the Emperor had elevated him to the equal-highest rank in the Kordolian military. The Kythian Court didn’t question the decision, because they knew the soldiers under Tarak’s command would follow him to the ends of the Universe.
Kalan was one of those soldiers. He trusted his boss’ judgement, so he didn’t question what was unfolding before him right now. He was a soldier. That was all he’d ever known, and he was good at what he did.
So if General Tarak had decided to bring some tiny injured Human back to Kythia, for whatever reason, then so be it.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Jia watched in disbelief from behind the thick glass windows of the upper decks as the Kordolian battle cruiser rose in the dock with a huge roar. Not all of its thrusters were working, but it was still able to drift effortlessly upwards, gliding out of the dock and into the airlock as it prepared for departure.
Seeing her handiwork from a distance, Jia was actually proud of the job. The Armium patch didn’t look fancy, but it was solidly fixed, the joins between the plates sealed with StopGap to make them airtight and prevent pressure loss. Once they’d gotten the Callidum drill-bit, everything had fallen into place.
The scary General called Akkadian had tested the integrity of the repairs with some strange instruments, before grunting in satisfaction.
“They’ll hold,” he’d told the mech supervisor, who’d taken all the credit for the repairs. Upon hearing the General’s conclusion, Jia had sighed in relief.
“Thank Jupiter they’re finally leaving,” Mendoza sipped a cup of foul-smelling imitation coffee, his dark mustache twitching as he grinned. “I’m not sad to see the back of those guys.”
“Mendoza,” Jia said in disbelief, “did you not see what happened out there? They left the rest of the squad behind.”
Mendoza almost spat out his fake coffee. “I was on a bathroom break. What do you mean, they stayed behind? Are you saying those take-no-prisoners, scary-ass super soldiers are still here?”
�
�The General left the rest of his squad on the station, along with some kind of oxygen concentrator.” Jia shook her head in disbelief. They’d taken away her friend Abbey, who’d suffered terrible injuries. Had something happened in the biomeric facility?
The General had told her they were taking her to his people for medical treatment.
Jia hadn’t trusted the General, but she’d had no choice in the matter. What could she, one little Human, do against these unstoppable, seemingly indestructible Kordolians? She wondered if she’d see Abbey ever again. She prayed to the stars that her friend would be safe, and get the treatment she needed.
“Fuck,” Mendoza hissed, as three of the Kordolian warriors jogged across the dock, disappearing into one of the lower passages. They were fully armored, with even their faces covered by dark, impenetrable visors. They looked intimidating as hell. “What the hell do they want with us?”
“I honestly don’t know.” She watched as the massive airlock closed, the warship disappearing behind solid metal doors as it prepared to launch into space. “I’m guessing it’s either because they’ve changed their minds and decided they want to take over Fortuna Tau after all, or there’s something really important going on that they’re not telling us about.” The actions of the Kordolians were as mystifying to her as they were to Mendoza.
But hey, these were aliens, and aliens didn’t have to justify their shit to anyone, especially when they could kick your ass nine ways without breaking a sweat.
“You know what?” Jia thrust her hands in her pockets as a tremor shook the windows. “Let’s finish up here and get back to quarters. I can’t wait to have my three-minute hot shower.” In this situation, she sought normality and routine. “Besides, we’re supposed to be on lockdown, aren’t we?”
So the Kordolians were loose on Fortuna Tau.
The safest thing to do right now was to head back to quarters.
Jia hadn’t seen Kalan since the repairs on Silence had been finalized. She wondered where the big Kordolian had gone. There’d been something oddly reassuring about the way he’d stood by her when the lead mech, Trevain, had started to give her shit. Trevain had been especially annoyed that Jia had come up with the drill-bit.