The Forsaken Empire (The Endervar War Book 2) (26 page)

They had met inside the training facility, Julian still clad in his combat suit. The machine armor was thin more like an exoskeleton that fitted over the body. The use of smart fabrics provided extra speed and strength for the person wearing them. Julian could punch faster, jump farther, and he could do so without breaking a sweat.

But today, the training suit had also taken its fair share of punishment. Despite the enhancements, he carried the gear, almost weighed down by it. For some reason, the armor was practically broken. The collections of braces dangled over his back and legs and even dragged on the floor. The tendons of metal were either split or bent out of shape. He himself was also battered. The scratches over the armor plating were like giant claw marks.

He slowly turned to Arendi, revealing the full damage. She saw the wound. The top of his right cheek was swollen and purple.

I blame the Destroyer for this, he said, pointing to his face and suit.

What happened? she asked.

She gingerly touched his cheek and saw him wince.

Accident, he said. Well, maybe not.

It had been hand-to-hand combat practice. The session had lasted for nearly the whole day, and his teacher had been harsh. Secretly, he had asked the Destroyer for his assistance. Julian himself wasn’t much of a physical fighter, so he hoped he could learn a thing or two from the former Ouryan assassin. Unfortunately, he had taken on more than he could handle.

The Destroyer wiped the floor with me, Julian said under his breath. Told me it was tough love.

He chuckled at the thought, feeling the soreness in his leg and ribs. He might even have broken a minor bone or two. Arendi, however, saw little reason to laugh. With the bruise, Julian’s face was oddly uneven.

Come, she said. You should go to the med lab.

She tugged on his combat suit, grabbing the chest plate. But Julian stood his ground.

No, no. It’s OK. This isn’t so bad. At least I didn’t puncture a lung this time.

He brushed it off, letting the pink smoke from the cigarette surround him. Julian was about to light up another cigarette. But instead, he offered the blunt to Arendi instead. She plucked it from his fingers and put it between her lips.

You don’t have to push yourself so hard, she first said before taking a puff. No one expects you to become a Sentinel overnight.

Arendi was right; it would take time. Maybe a few years, or even longer. But Julian still had trouble believing it. He scratched the side of his head, skeptical.

I don’t know he replied, massaging his face and looking worried.

He had begun the training several months ago. The Alliance had chosen him to become a Sentinel a prestigious opportunity. After he performed bravely during the Great War, Julian had been seen as an ideal candidate.

If he passed, he would be the second Terran to join the ranks. If, he thought, doubtful about the prospect.

He stared out the window. They were in orbit around a planet, so he could see the stars. He knew it was an honor even to be considered for Sentinel membership, but he wondered whether it was a mistake.

I’ve never really thought about policing before. I’ve always been more of a pilot, he said. I’ve spent more of my time around humans than other alien life.

But that’s why they chose you, Arendi replied. For your perspective. A human perspective.

I guess, he said. But now I feel out of place.

Arendi couldn’t pretend it would be easy. She herself had seen the requirements. Not only were combat skills necessary, but all Sentinels had to be experts on galactic culture, along with interstellar rule and regulation.

I guess I don’t want to let anyone down, he said. The Endervars may be gone, but new threats are starting to appear.

She nodded, well aware of the reports. The Unity, the previous masters of the Ouryan Union, were risking igniting their own conflict. Apparently a civil war for control of the mighty collective was brewing. The Destroyer was among the factions leading the rebellion. Escalation seemed inevitable. The Unity was a dangerous force, one that had nearly taken over the Alliance five years ago.

Although the elusive group may once have ruled a virtual universe, the full physical infrastructure spanned the quadrant. Entire military fleets and dangerous weapons had once been in the Unity’s control. It was all the more reason to intervene.

The Destroyer is asking for assistance, Julian said. He says the Alliance can’t sit on the sidelines forever.

Do you think the council will act? she asked.

I don’t know. Everybody is sick of war. But some people are afraid. The Unity might retaliate.

For Julian, it was just a reason to worry. He felt overwhelmed thinking about all his future duties.

Still, there may be no choice, he added. Better to intervene now, before it’s too late.

Leaning forward, he placed his elbow on the window sill and again saw the bulging bruise on his face in his reflection in the glass. He pressed the broken flesh with his hand, trying to tamp it down. I just wish it were easier, he said with a yawn. I just need to get through this.

Although he was simply speaking his mind, Arendi noticed his struggle. She finished the rest of the cigarette and vented a plume of smoke.

Let me help you, she said. Perhaps the Sentinel Guard could use one more.

What do you mean? he asked.

As he pulled another cigarette from his breast pocket, Arendi snatched it away. She smiled, holding the drug in her fingers.

I’ve learned enough from the New Scientist League, she explained. Maybe it’s time I try something new.

Julian looked at her, suspicious. You’re thinking of joining?’

She tilted her head and smirked, although her decision wasn’t completely on a whim. The Alliance had also chosen her to join the select group.

You don’t have to do this, Julian said. I mean, if it’s what you want, then you should

I know. The choice is mine.

She had been thinking about this for a while. She held the cigarette between two fingers, looking for a light. Julian pulled a thumb-size cartridge out of his pocket and flicked the switch. The flame lit, igniting the cigarette in her hand.

All the while, the real Arendi watched. Her current self had accessed the memory, and the simulation proceeded without a glitch. The textures and details were ever lifelike. Julian’s face glowed as his lighter flickered. Then it went out, and the smoke rose into the air.

Arendi stared at this past version of herself. The simulation had imbued the re-creation with authenticity.

For a moment, it was like viewing a mirror. Twenty-five years had passed from this moment, and still she hadn’t aged in a day. Even so, change had come in other ways. Looking at her former self, she saw the differences. She had been so quiet. So shy. She was still young back in those days and oftentimes, cautious. Perhaps too much so.

The current Arendi looked at Julian, wishing she had said more. But he was gone now. He was like the vapor in the room, warm but fleeting.

Maybe it was just a simulation. All fake. All in her imagination. But she knew the memory and all the emotions attached to it were real. It was difficult to relive even now. So she moved on. As she walked away, she winced, and the surrounding detail faded as she left the simulation.

Chapter 26

He had hoped to find a dead carcass strewn across space. His flagship, the Adamant, was ready to feast. The dreadnought lunged out of hyperspace, preparing for battle. The forward cannons, an arsenal of spires, ran hot in embers of light. A wave of drones then sprang from the hull as the fleet took form. The resulting legion marched out, searching for the potential corpse.

This was the location the point of sabotage. Three days ago, a cloaked vessel over ten miles in diameter had crossed through the area, only to explode. Twin detonations had come from key assets the elusive ship had been towing. The impact should have been severe, and he expected a crippling blow. But whatever ruin he thought he might find was nowhere in sight. The legion had spread through the area and found nothing. Not even evidence of a possible cloaking field in place. There were only scraps of debris floating within the void. From here, the trail had gone cold.

The Destroyer ground his teeth. So you hide, yet again, he snarled. To his annoyance, his prey had slipped away.

Assuming his holographic form, the Destroyer oversaw the search from the Adamant’s command center. Surrounding him was the data. The circular room became flush with layers of neon. He had no need for a physical presence, of course. He had bid adieu to his own organic self millennia ago, so all this was simply a facade, including his finely-cropped platinum hair.

But the Destroyer was a courteous man. He had guests on board, and he relished playing his role. Behind him, the main door opened. Arendi entered the room, and the life support came online. She stepped inside, feeling the light and air gather. The inside of the room was a polished white, and along the peripheries was a crown of crystal lights.

She heard the oxygen ventilate in a gust. Her black hair blew in the wind.

Still no signs? she asked, hoping for an update.

The man’s teeth dug into his fabricated lips. Unfortunately, no, he replied. This duel will have to come another day.

Inevitably, there was only one conclusion to come to: the Unity’s mother ship had managed to flee. His opponent had likely repaired itself and retreated into the night. To where, the Destroyer could only speculate. For now, all he could do was study his prey.

We have unfinished business, he muttered, looking up at the images.

He turned his attention to what he knew of his adversary. On display was a treasure trove of data. All of it had been pulled from the Destroyer’s intrusion into the mother ship. His efforts had mapped much of the vessel.

Arendi saw the detailed scans. They included the ship’s interiors and, most important, the secret Arcenian research.

She had been given a copy and was already pouring through the files. The Destroyer was doing the same. He immersed himself within the holofields. The slices of data revolved across his fabricated body, and the stream of information might have overwhelmed him. But despite it all, Arendi noticed his focused stare. He was undaunted by the scrolls of schematics. Instead, he was paying close attention to one image in particular. In front of him, the hologram stopped and glowed. Apparently, it was the last bit of data the Destroyer had recorded from the mother ship.

Arendi walked closer and was surprised to see it a semblance of a face swimming in the data flow.

Who is this? she asked.

The figure in the hologram was shrouded in fog and spark, but Arendi saw the contours of life. The shadow was distinctly humanoid. For a moment, she even glimpsed lips and eyes. The Destroyer squinted at the sight, his eyes piercing through the murk. He knew the coding behind this ghost intimately.

Meet the Unity, he replied. Or at least one member of it.

What? she asked.

The blond-haired man opened his hand. The rest of the data drifted away, and the image rose to the center. The Destroyer could tell that Arendi was surprised. As far as she knew, the old masters of the Ouryan Union had always refrained from taking any physical form. Of course there was the occasional exception.

My former masters, he said derisively. They were a sick oligarchy old and feeble, ready to expire.

Indeed, the group was ancient. For over three thousand years, the Unity had ruled its virtual domain. The machine empire had been among the most powerful in the galaxy. At one point, the group had even sought to invite everyone to join their cause, including organic life. Billions had been swayed, becoming one with the collective. But in reality, the leadership behind the Union was far from united. The bickering was constant, he explained, pacing the room. The power plays were profuse.

They cared only for control and technological advancement. War and enslavement these were their tools.

He lifted his hands, clutching the air. Once he, too, had been their slave.

There was one, however, who was different, he said, extending a single finger. He glanced up at the hovering image.

This member sought to leave the Unity. She was tired of the sordid affair.

He displayed other files, which were messages. Each one was a secure dispatch made decades ago, written directly to the Destroyer. Arendi began skimming the layers of the hologram. Very quickly she understood the importance of both the shadow hovering before them and the files. The figure had even been given an alias.

The Defector Arendi said. She was the informant.

The man nodded. Like me, she chose to betray the Unity.

Arendi fixated on the dates on each message. The last dispatches had been sent decades ago, during a time when the galaxy had been locked in another conflict.

The Ouryan Civil War, Arendi whispered. So she was the one

It was a brief period of time right after the Great War. The Endervars had seemingly been defeated, but one dangerous threat still remained.

The Unity, the Destroyer said. It became difficult to find the members, even with the threat of escalation.

Arendi remembered. Eventually, Julian and the Alliance had both become involved.

Our informant, however, tipped the scales, he said. She revealed their strongholds and gave us access to their codes. She helped kill the Unity from the inside.

As for her ultimate fate, the Destroyer added, for a long time, it was unknown. Until now.

Was she there? Arendi asked. On the mother ship?

I don’t know, he replied, pointing to the image. He showed her the full scene. The shadow of a life form was there, along with the deadly machine at her side.

The Enforcer I battled he projected her. It was brief, but she was there.

The Destroyer had been wondering what it might mean. Maybe the elusive figure was already dead. Or perhaps she was in absolute control. After all, the assumed defector was once a member of the Unity. They were a fickle group, always vying for power. It could be that she was simply like them: orchestrating and conspiring to further her control.