Forged in Shadow Page 3

  And now, they’d come after her.

  “Somehow, you’ve become a diplomatic asset, Sergeant Varga. That’s what we’ve learned from our sources.”

  Arin raised an eyebrow, waiting for further explanation.

  “We all know that war and conflict can create unlikely challenges, pushing us into roles and responsibilities we never thought we’d have to assume.”

  Do you really know that, lady? She didn’t like the sound of that. Where were they going with this?

  “Our sources tell us that you’ve become something of a bridge.”

  “A bridge?” Was this some sort of coded intelligence-speak?

  “Major Dimitriou’s death on Fortuna Tau was regrettable. Our sources inform us that out of all the Sergeants on the freighter, you’ve been the one to assume the most responsibility in his absence.”

  Arin sighed. The Major had been one of the first to fall victim to the Xargek on Fortuna Tau, leaving the peacekeepers without an off-planet CO. “I haven’t done anything out of the ordinary,” she shrugged. “Just what was necessary at the time.”

  “You’ve been able to negotiate with the Kordolians, and you’ve successfully been involved in a large-scale emergency evacuation. Now, they’ve sent you to Earth as part of the negotiation process. For whatever reason, the Kordolians seem to be able to work with you. They trust you.”

  “I did what anyone else in my situation would have done.” Arin didn’t think she’d done anything special. She’d just been in the right place at the right time, and for some reason, the Kordolians, particularly Rykal, had insisted she be the one to travel to Earth to convey their demands. The deal was simple: allow the Kordolians safe passage to where the Xargek were, guarantee them impunity on Earth, and they would let the Humans on the Hendrix II go.

  That deal was proving very difficult for the Humans to accept, because like half of the known Universe, they didn’t trust the Kordolians one little bit.

  “Earth is facing a major crisis, Sergeant. The appearance of Kordolians and Xargek in our airspace is ominous. We need to make critical decisions fast, but the wrong decision could result in the loss of lives. That’s why we need you.”

  “You need me,” Arin stated flatly. “For what?”

  “In the next few days, it’s highly likely that the senate will agree on a course of action. We’ve obtained footage from Fortuna Tau’s datafeed, and we’ve seen what the Kordolians are capable of. We need them to exterminate the Xargek, and right now, that seems to be their main objective anyway.” The woman’s lips curved into a mirthless smile. “But we need more information. What are their weaknesses? What are their true plans? Is Earth in their sights as a potential takeover planet? We need you to continue to work with them, but at the same time, you will be gathering information for us.”

  “So you want me to be a spy,” Arin said dryly.

  “It’s not a request, Sergeant. It’s an order, from the highest levels of the Federation.”

  “We need you to observe them and report back to us.” For the first time the man spoke, his voice low and monotonous. He didn’t remove his datalenses. “Get close to them. If you can get us a bio-sample of their DNA, even better. We’re going to use them to get rid of the Xargek, and then we’re going to figure out how to get rid of them. In the long run, they’re nothing but a threat to us.”

  “Uh,” Arin opened her mouth, thought twice, and closed it again. One didn’t just ‘get rid’ of Kordolians. Or Xargek, for that matter. Those weird, terrifying insectoid aliens had survived a nuclear explosion in the vacuum of space.

  Now they were on Earth, and if what Rykal had told her was true, they had the capacity to multiply like fucking cockroaches.

  “We’ll set you up with an undetectable communication node for when you’re on Earth, and a supercode for the satellite line on the freighter,” the woman said. “There’s some basic intelligence training you’ll have to do before you depart. I’ll give you a DNA collection kit as well. We’ll take anything you can get. Blood, hair, even skin cells. For now, you’re what we call a bridge, but soon you’ll be one of our most valuable assets.”

  Arin didn’t want to be an asset. She couldn’t think of anything worse. But orders were orders, and she was a peacekeeper, first and foremost.

  “I won’t do anything that puts my people at risk, and I won’t do anything shady,” she declared as the bot-car slowed. They had reached the block where her quarters were located. “I’m going to get them off that freighter at all costs.”

  Rykal and the other Kordolians had told her that if the Federation allowed them smooth passage to Earth so they could hunt the Xargek, her people would be freed and returned to Earth.

  She wondered whether Kordolians were as good at keeping promises as they were at killing.

  “I’m sure you haven’t forgotten the penalty for insubordination, Sergeant.” The female agent put on her datalenses as the car’s door slid open. She dismissed Arin with a small tilt of her chin. “We know everything about your military history, Varga. Just make sure you do as we say, or you’ll end up spending the next decade assigned to an even more remote mining station.”

  Arin didn’t bother to tell the agents that she liked being in space.

  Chapter Four

  Arin jolted awake, dragged out of her slumber by the incessant bleeping of her link-band. After the agents had dropped her at her quarters, she’d stolen an indulgent hour of sleep. Space-lag was a very real thing.

  She brought up the holo-display, but she didn’t recognize the caller. Unknown, it said.

  Orange light pierced the darkness of her room through a crack in the blinds. The sun was setting across the Pacific.

  “Varga,” she snapped, half-expecting the call to be from some Federation suit.

  “Sergeant, you gotta help us!” Static crackled through the line. There was no holo-image of the caller, which was a bit strange.

  “Riana?” She recognized the voice. “What’s going on? I thought the Federation had put a network blackout on the Hendrix II. Is everything all right, Private?”

  “It’s all gone to shit,” her junior whispered, terror creeping into her voice. “I’m calling you from a fixed satellite line in the communications room. That’s why there’s no picture. You gotta get us out of here, Sergeant Varga. They’re going to kill us.” Riana’s breathing was thick and heavy, betraying her rising panic. “I don’t know what you have to do to convince those Federation suits to give the Kordolians what they want, but if this goes on for much longer, they’re gonna end up killing us all.”

  “Take a deep breath, Private,” Arin said slowly. “And tell me now, what exactly is going on?”

  The peacekeeper paused, and Arin heard mutterings in the background. Riana cleared her throat. “There was a plan,” she whispered. “Some of the guys found a weapons stash in the lower entry bay. They followed one of the Kordolians down into the cargo hold. They thought they could take him because he was on his own, and they’d all managed to get their hands on bolt-guns and even an old-fashioned atomic EI rocket launcher.”

  Arin groaned, putting her head into her hands.

  “None of them returned,” Riana continued in a flat voice. “Except for Harris.”

  “Harris?” It didn’t surprise Arin that he was amongst those who’d tried to attack the Kordolians. She’d always had difficulty keeping him in line, and lately, he seemed to have developed a bit of a Spike addiction. The stimulant was making some of her soldiers a bit too aggressive, almost borderline delusional, even though the manufacturer claimed it had no side-effects.

  “Well, a part of Harris came back,” Riana said, and there was something in her tone that sent a chill down Arin’s spine.

  “What do you mean, Private? Spell it out.”

  “The Kordolian came back with Harris’ severed head. Threw it at our feet and told us that if we tried anything like that again, we’d all end up like that. Then he walked out of there like it was no bi
g deal, even though he’d just taken down seven of our guys. They’re fucking savages, Sergeant, and we’re helpless against them. We need to get off this freighter. I don’t care if they’re good at killing Xargek. I want out. Why aren’t the Federation sending a rescue crew already?” Riana’s words were becoming jumbled. She sounded as if she was on the verge of tears.

  Arin went still, a horrible coldness seeping through her. Her people had been killed. Seven of them, if Riana was to be believed.

  But what had they expected? These were Kordolians, after all.

  Arin cursed herself for being naive. She cursed herself for being delusional enough to think that the Kordolians might actually be reasonable. She cursed her men for going after a lone Kordolian warrior and thinking they could handle business. Delusional idiots. They’d all seen the way the Kordolians had fought the Xargek in the docking bay on Fortuna Tau. How was any Human supposed to fight against that?

  She’d warned them not to go down that path.

  Stupid fucking idiots. And now they were dead.

  “Riana,” she said, injecting gentleness into her voice. “I want you to take a deep breath and calm down. Think. The Kordolians took us off Fortuna Tau. They stopped the Xargek from annihilating us. They could have just left us there to die, but they didn’t.’

  “And now they’re using our lives as a bargaining chip.”

  In a way, Riana was right. The situation was delicate, and becoming more and more complicated by the day.

  There were close to three thousand rescued souls being held hostage on the Hendrix II, and thanks to a certain mechanic’s bright idea to broadcast their plight to the world, everyone on Earth knew it. Before the Network blackout had been enforced, the survivors onboard the freighter had communicated with their friends, family, and contacts on Earth. The news had spread like wildfire.

  The public wanted the survivors of the Fortuna Tau disaster safely back on Earth. And so the Federation wasn’t going to try anything rash, like send in rescue crews, until they knew exactly what they were dealing with.

  “Riana,” Arin said gently, “hold tight. Harris and the others died because they attacked the Kordolians. Whatever you and the others do, don’t make enemies of them. They won’t hurt you if you leave them alone. I’ll be back there as soon as I can.”

  “They seem to listen to you. I’ve seen it.” Riana was beginning to sound a little calmer.

  “I don’t know about that.” All Arin had done was to try and read the situation and play her cards right. That meant not doing anything stupid, rash, or unpredictable in the presence of super-evolved killers, and keeping her soldiers in check.

  What had her people been thinking?

  Seven of them had proven to be no match for a lone Kordolian.

  “What did he look like?” Arin asked quietly.

  “What?”

  “Harris’ killer.” She forced herself to say the words, facing the harsh reality. She was under no illusions as to what the Kordolians really were. Even charming, “What did he look like?”

  “I-I don’t know, they all look the same to me. Silver skin, pale hair, black armor, armed to-the-teeth, and mean-as-hell.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Yellow eyes.” Riana’s voice wavered. Arin could almost picture her shuddering. The Kordolians had her Private spooked. “I think he was the one called Ry-something.”

  Rykal.

  Arin dropped her head into her hands and groaned. Of course it had to be him. He of the brilliant sharp-toothed smiles and dangerously disarming charm. She’d almost forgotten what he truly was.

  A wolf in, well, wolf’s clothing.

  Her protector and her enemy.

  “Hold on, Riana, and for the love of Jupiter, don’t do anything stupid. I’m coming.”

  Chapter Five

  She was coming back to him. Rykal peered at the holoscreens as the small transport vessel came into view. It was still thousands of kuliks away, but it was making good time.

  She had been as good as her word. Rykal hadn’t expected anything less. She was a soldier, just like him. She understood duty, but she also knew how to adapt to the situation.

  His ashika was no fool.

  Rykal found a seat, removing his large weapons and resting them on the floor as he sat down, keeping them within easy reach. He propped his legs up on an instrument panel as the freighter pilots looked at him in alarm. The control and navigation room of the freighter was surprisingly small for a vessel of this size. It was located on the uppermost level of the ship, and it was staffed by a team of about six Human pilots who rotated in teams of two, taking turns to monitor the freighter’s navigation systems.

  Rykal glanced back at Jeral. The warrior sat discreetly in one corner, his plasma rifle resting on his lap. His orange eyes burned through the darkness, taking in every little detail. Like most of Rykal’s colleagues, Jeral was a silent, stoic bastard at the best of times. He didn’t talk much, and he wasn’t interested in getting friendly with the natives.

  “I’ll take over here,” Rykal offered, nodding towards the Human pilots, who suddenly seemed very absorbed in their data. “Go and stretch your legs. The rest of the cargo holds still need checking.”

  “You sure?” Jeral’s voice was deep and slightly hoarse, as if he hadn’t used it for a very long time. He shot Rykal a pointed look, raising a questioning eyebrow.

  “No problem.” Rykal shrugged but didn’t offer any explanations. No doubt Jeral had his questions; the fact that Rykal was actually offering to do this kind of work was more than a little odd. Rykal had a reputation for being a bit of a restless bastard. In the early days, his inability to sit still had driven the General nuts.

  “Hm.” Jeral grunted and rose up out of his seat. He didn’t ask any more questions, instead offering Rykal a grateful nod. They all hated this sort of simple watch-work, but it had to be done.

  The warrior disappeared into the shadows as Rykal stretched, enjoying the feeling of his once again intact skin and exo-armor. His superficial burns were completely healed; in the end, the process had barely taxed his nanites.

  Whatever that Human had hit him with had been powerful. The missile’s blast had ended up melting a crater-like hole in the metal floor. Rykal shook his head. Fucking Humans and their strange weapons.

  “Oi, Human.” He nodded towards one of the Humans, a generously proportioned man with a shock of wild, curly hair.

  “Y-yes?”

  “How long until the transport gets here?”

  “Uh.” The Human blinked, appearing a little shocked that Rykal was actually talking to him. Rykal attempted a smile, baring his fangs. From what he’d observed, Humans placed a great deal of emphasis on body language, and small pleasantries seemed important to them.

  The Human paled. “I-it’s about two hours away.”

  “That doesn’t mean anything to me. How long in Universal units?”

  The Human’s expression went blank as he did some mental calculations. “About fifty chalens,” he blurted.

  “Ah.” Rykal leaned back, putting his hands behind his head. “In that case, I’m going to catch some shut-eye. Don’t wake me up unless there’s an emergency.” He’d been taught to be opportunistic when it came to sleep, but if anyone tried anything, he’d be awake in the blink of an eye, his hands flying to his weapons.

  He closed his eyes and drifted off into nothingness, wondering what would come to him this time.

  Images of broken worlds and darkness flashed through his mind, interspersed with nothingness. He saw cowed alien populations suffering in silence. He saw the facility where he’d been dismantled and remade, his memories stripped from him as they’d tried to break him.

  It was so clear in his mind’s eye; a black, sinister structure on a remote planet, its pale, dusty landscape more barren and desolate than that of Kythia itself.

  They’d erred. They’d made him so strong they couldn’t break him. They’d made all of them like that. They’d
tried to break him. They’d failed, time and time again. He’d been angry, unanchored, and wild.

  How he’d fought at first. It had taken a certain General to pull him into line.

  Patience, Rykal. There will come a time when everything shall change, but for now we must serve the Empire.

  His thoughts drifted again as the slipstream of time became distorted. He was on the ice plains again. He didn’t know why, but he felt at home here. It was the only place in his dreams that didn’t feel painful or chaotic.

  The coldness on his bare skin was invigorating. His hair was long, and it was whipped around his face by the fierce, howling winds. The wildness of the place made his heart sing.

  He walked across the barren plains of the Vaal until darkness overtook him again.

  Rykal drifted in and out of dreams, existing in a forgotten place somewhere between the void and the icy wilderness until Human voices pulled him back to the surface.

  He opened his eyes and found that nothing had changed. His Human companions hadn’t dared move since he’d fallen into a half-sleep.

  “They have arrived,” he said softly, causing both Humans to turn, their eyes wide. He’d startled them.

  Humans. They were such a flighty species, their thoughts easily betrayed by their body language.

  “Hendrix II, this is the Arawen, requesting permission to dock.” The male voice that greeted them was an unfamiliar one.

  “Come aboard, Arawen. Docking bay three’s airlock is open and ready.”

  “Uh, this is a drop-off only. We won’t be staying.”

  The Human pilot glanced warily at Rykal. “Yeah, we figured.” There was resignation in his tone.