Dark Planet Warriors: The Serial (Books 1-3) (12 page)

I activate the flyer and ease it out of the dock, navigating it through the airlock. Once I’ve passed the outer lock, I communicate with flight control.

“Cleared for departure, General.”

I gun the thrusters and speed towards Kythia, wondering what in Kaiin’s name the High Council want with me this time. Whatever it is, it won’t be anything good. It never is.

Abbey

I explore the General’s quarters for a while, looking around, running my hand over things, pressing various panels on the walls. Everything is so alien looking. But I guess that’s what happens when you’re on an alien ship. Duh.

My legs are holding up just fine, and I’m actually feeling really good. Better than I’ve felt in a long time. Whatever the Kordolians have pumped into me has worked.

I return to his sleeping chamber, that dark, cocoon-like place, and search around. There must be a wardrobe in here, because otherwise how could he get changed into that sexy dress uniform so quickly?

Oh, my. Did I just think that?

Let me rephrase that. Not sexy. Distinguished is more like it.

Hell, Abbey, you thought he was sexy. Just admit it.

There’s a little triangular arrangement of blue lights in the wall that I hadn’t noticed before. I touch my palm to it and bingo, the dark wall magically comes apart, revealing a walk-in wardrobe. Apart from the muted glow of the little blue lights, it’s dim inside. Why do Kordolians prefer everything to be hidden in shadow? It’s as if they’ve got something to hide.

There are only a few garments hanging on the racks. I suppose he doesn’t need much clothing because he’s wearing armor most of the time. And underneath the freaky armor, he’s very naked, all the time. I shudder, goosebumps rippling on my skin as I remember the way he stood before me when I was in the stasis tank.

Unashamed, in all his naked glory.

I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

There’s a duplicate of the fancy uniform he was wearing, another robe and some plain looking trousers. All black, of course.

The guy needs some color. I’m thinking a dark red, like wine, might suit him. It would match his eyes.

I grab the trousers and try them on, discarding the billowing robe. I need something a bit less cumbersome to go around in. I can’t be tripping over swathes of fabric at every corner.

The trousers are big and long, but I manage to roll them up and fashion the belt-like thing so it cinches nicely at my waist.

I grab a soft, sleeveless tunic and slip it over my head. It falls to about mid-thigh, like a short dress.

Too bad there’s no mirror. But I feel a lot more presentable now. It’s not the most fashionable getup, but at least I can move around freely.

I go back into the living space and do a few experimental squats. Easy. No pain, no stiffness. I hop on one leg, and then the other. I’m as good as new. There’s no deformity, no scarring. I bend over and touch my toes. I’ve always been flexible and it seems nothing’s changed. I’m able to reach over and touch both palms to the floor.

What the hell did these Kordolians do to me?

A nanograft? I don’t like the sound of that.

But I seem to be healthy and whole, and so far, there’s no sign that they’ve taken my organs or tried to experiment on me or stuck a control chip in my brain.

The only problem right now is that I’m locked in the General’s chambers and I have no idea when he plans on sending me home.

Does he even plan on returning me? He seemed a little cagey on that point. Perhaps I shouldn’t wait around to find out exactly what he has in store.

There has to be a way to get out of here. I pace over to the weird looking door that marks the entrance to the quarters. It’s made of that same woven looking stuff; those weird black fibers that seem to peel apart when opening. The problem is that the light in here is so dim that it’s hard to make out the fine detail. But at least there’s some starlight to go by.

Seriously, Kordolians? What’s with the darkness and gloom? I’m starting to miss the sunshine already.

From what I’ve seen, they don’t have an equivalent to the Sun. Just a dim, dying star; a fading memory of what once was there. How many millions of years has it been like that?

There’s a thin fissure in the centre of the door, where I’ve seen the fibre-like things slide apart. They’re like tiny, interlocking fingers, sealed tight. Yet when the General walked up to the door, it just opened.

I dig my fingers into the grooves of the fissure, trying to pry it open.

It’s a bit stupid of me. Why would a futuristic alien door have a weakness where I could just pull it open? But I’m desperate to get out of here, so still I tug, hoping for a bit of give.

“Ow!” I wince as one of my fingernails rips, revealing a tiny patch of raw nailbed. A tiny droplet of blood beads there, smearing on the door’s surface as I pull my finger away to suck on it.

There’s a rushing sound, and a whoosh of air, and suddenly the interlocking, black fibers are gone, revealing a shadowy corridor.

Uh, did I do that? What the hell did I just do?

I blink, looking left and right, startled by my sudden, unexpected freedom. The corridor curves around in each direction, disappearing into the darkness.

Which way do I go? I turn left, guided by a hunch, keeping an eye out for any sign of movement. The General told me not to go out of his quarters, but there’s no way I can just sit around and wait for him to come back.

I need to figure out an escape plan. I need to get the lay of the place.

I try to be stealthy, making my footfalls light, watching for a change in the shadows, listening for any sound that might indicate an approaching Kordolian. The problem is that there’s nowhere to hide.

The passageway leads to an open area, which must be some kind of communal space, judging from the soft seating and array of tables. The huge, vaulted windows look out onto the dark planet below. A river of blue lights creeps across its surface, winking against the inky blackness. The place is empty right now, much to my relief.

The entire scene below me is eerie and intimidating and forbiddingly beautiful.

Just like it’s inhabitants.

I pass through the quiet room, alert for any sign of movement. But there’s not a Kordolian to be seen. I move through a series of wide arches into another cavernous space, stopping dead in my tracks.

I’ve come to a lookout, and there’s a lake below me.

Incredible. As I stare down at the giant expanse of water, I realize it’s not a lake but a swimming pool. Like all things Kordolian, it doesn’t have straight edges, but smooth, curved corners. There are lines marked for lap swimming.

But what’s most astonishing about the pool is that it’s completely transparent at the bottom, looking out onto the stars and the forbidding shape of the Dark Planet below.

Magnified by water, the stars and lights are surreal.

Talk about an infinity pool.

I stiffen as the sound of voices drifts towards me through the stillness, trying to figure out what direction they’re coming from. The voices become louder, a raucous exchange of Kordolian banter.
 

Shit. They’re heading this way.
 

I look around in panic, but there’s nowhere to hide. If I go down to the pool area below, I’ll be easy to spot. My pale skin will surely stand out in the darkness. If I go back the way I’ve come, I’ll run straight into them.

The voices are louder now, and two Kordolian males appear. They see me as soon as I see them, and for a moment, we all stare at each other, frozen in surprise. If I weren’t freaking out, it might almost be comical.

They start babbling at me in Kordolian. I can’t understand a word they’re saying.

I hold up a hand. “Do you guys speak Universal?”

At the sound of my voice, they freeze. They’re both military, by the looks of things, fit, lean and clean-cut. We stare at each other, having a real first-contact sort of moment. I doubt they’ve ever seen a real, live Human before.

“H- Human!” One of the guys raises a hand and points at me. “What are you doing here?” His Universal is heavily accented, but I can understand him well enough.

I decide to bluff it out. “I’m a guest of General Tarak’s.” Even though they tower above me, I straighten to my full height, trying to appear confident and intimidating.

At the mention of the General’s name, both of them have a rapid-fire exchange in Kordolian. The first guy turns back to me. “You are not authorized to be in this area. We must detain you while we confirm the correct clearances.”

“Uh, I don’t think the General would be very happy to hear I’ve been detained over something so trivial.” I wave my hand imperiously, stepping forward to glare at the guy. He has light amber eyes, which go wide as I poke him in the chest. “Soldier, would you like to answer to General Tarak over this? He’s gone to the effort of bringing me here all the way from Sector Nine. Do you really think I would have free run of this area if he hadn’t allowed it? This is your General we’re talking about here. Are you accusing him of being negligent?”

Uncertainty plays across the soldier’s face, as his buddy whispers something to him in Kordolian. He shies away from my touch, wiping nervously at the front of his uniform.

It seems the threat of facing the General is a very scary one indeed.

Huh. I file away that useful bit of information. It seems even regular Kordolians are scared of my Big Bad.

Oops, did I just think of him as
my
Tarak?

The soldiers stare at me for a moment, then both execute an odd little bow, backing away. “No offense was intended, Human female. Please do not mention this incident to General Akkadian.”

“I won’t if you won’t.” I wink, and that seems to send them into further confusion. They back away, as if I’m some kind of venomous creature. “Oh, you guys. Relax.” I wave them away. “Go and enjoy your swim.” That pool, with its amazing clear bottom, looks incredibly inviting.

The Kordolians retreat, stepping onto a hoverlift, which takes them to the lower level.

You’d almost think they were afraid of females. Or Humans. Or both.

Except that they’re now both stripping off, in full view of me.

And of course, they’re not wearing anything underneath. Totally in their birthday suits. I shake my head, fighting the embarrassment that rises. My ears feel hot. I’m reminded of Tarak and his perfectly sculpted body, the impressive length of him, the feel of his deft, sure hands on my skin.

I clutch the metal railing of the balcony, my palms moist. The thought of the General sends a warm feeling through my core, right down to my most sensitive area.

And here I was, supposed to be looking for an escape route. I try to banish the sensual thoughts from my mind. I need a clear head for this. Perhaps a swim in that inviting pool below will help.
After
the young, naked Kordolians are finished, of course.

Anything to get these thoughts out of my head.

Tarak

I stand before the twelve heads of the High Council with my teeth clenched in irritation. My fangs break the skin of my lower lip, and I taste blood in my mouth.

But as always, the tiny wound heals as quickly as it was made.

The representatives of the High Council look down upon me from their elevated seats. There are six females, and six males, all born of one of Kythia’s twelve Noble Houses. Several of the males are wearing elaborate robes, which I recognize as Veronian in origin, with their fine, colorful embroidery. Thin fingers are decked out with intricate rings bearing cumbersome, glittering jewels. Some of the males have grown their hair long, in a style that seems to be fashionable on Kythia at the moment.

The females, on the other hand, are dressed in the plain black robes of their office.

In these times, Kordolian females do not have to try hard to impress anyone. There are so few of them left that they can have their pick of any male on the planet.

“General Akkadian.” One of the representatives, a tall, severe female with long hair that is darkening with age, addresses me, her low voice echoing in the small chamber. I recognize her as Councillor Sivian, the elected head. “It has come to our attention that you have a Human on board the Fleet Station.” Her cold, amber gaze locks with mine, and she arches one eyebrow. “When were you going to inform us of that particular detail?”

The Council know about Abbey. Fuck. How in Kaiin’s hells did they find out?

I resist the urge to leap up to the pedestal and grab her by the neck. Instead, I fight to keep my tone even. “I am not required to inform the Council of every little thing that goes on aboard the Fleet Station. I’d hardly think the presence of a Human would be of any concern to you.”

“When we are told that this Human, a female at that, is reproductively compatible with our species, then it most certainly
becomes the business of the High Council, General.”

I hide my shock behind a carefully blank expression. Reproductively compatible? Zyara said our species had some similarities, but the ability to mate?

And who would have informed the landside authorities of such a thing?
 

My suspicions lie with Mirkel. If he’s gone to the Council on this, I’ll tear his fucking head off.

“I am requesting you to hand over custody of the Human to the Genetic Research Unit. Such a discovery cannot be kept quiet because of personal desires, General.”

I fight to keep still, but underneath my skin, the black nanites are seething. They’ve escaped my bloodstream in response to my anger. Ready to emerge and equip me for combat at any moment.

“The Human is mine,” I say quietly, calmly. “There will be no handover.”

“Are you sure about that, General? Withholding any resource that might help the future survival of our race is akin to treason.” The eleven other Councillors nod in agreement, their cold gazes fixed on me.

That look. Derision. Scorn. Judgement. It’s a look I’ve received my entire life. I am, and always will be, an outsider. Like many Kordolians who haven’t been born into a Noble House, I’m still considered a second-class citizen, regardless of my rank.