The Forsaken Empire (The Endervar War Book 2) (28 page)

Arendi left the shuttle and considered her options. She moved out into the hangar bay, and for a moment she strolled along aimlessly, walking past the cargo containers and the floating repair drones. Not far from Farcia’s shuttle was the main launching point, and the hanger bay doors were open. It was an aperture into space. For her, it was like a giant window, though sealed with the transparent sheen of a force field. Behind the barrier was an actual field of stars. As Arendi looked out, she heard footsteps come from behind.

Alysdeon asked.

Arendi had been wondering the same. The threat was still out there, and they needed to act. But at this point, there was little to lean on. Arendi had seen the latest intel.

Probably not, she said. Most of the fleet sustained heavy damage. Many other ships are missing. I’ve urged them to send reinforcements, but I don’t know

After almost two weeks of fighting, the Alliance had nearly exhausted itself. The combined military force was in total disarray, trying to protect territory that extended for thousands of light-years. Even the Destroyer’s armadas had come away battered. The invading Endervar fleet had fought, bringing pure devastation, before abruptly retreating. In fact, many enemy ships had sacrificed themselves, plunging into vessels, space stations, and even planets. Arendi tried not to dwell on it. For all she knew, there was still more fighting to do. It was only matter of how and when.

The Alliance wants to see Farcia, she said. Put her through processing and more interrogation.

I know. I’ve sent my superiors everything we’ve learned. But still, they insist.

Arendi was annoyed. The security council of the Alliance was waiting for a reply, along with her full report. But she preferred to ignore the order, rather than stand by and let bureaucracy take over. She pressed her knuckle against the bottom of her chin and weighed the risks.

No choice, Arendi said. We need to go on the offensive.

The Alliance might protest, but even if they did, Arendi would soon be out of range. Outside, preparations were already being made. The Destroyer’s remaining forces in the sector were returning to the flagship. As they did so, they unloaded any spare fuel into the Adamant. Alysdeon watched the drones unload the cargo. Stacks upon stacks were coming through in gray containers. All of it might be needed. They needed to move in haste and push the boundaries of hyperspace to the extreme.

I just hope we aren’t too late.

In Arendi’s mind was the map and the distant locations.

Enemy territory, she thought. More of the unknown.

Chapter 28

It crawled along, wandering from body to mind. Farcia felt the sensation. She was no longer numb. The haze left her as she arose from the cushion beneath her body. The fabric of the floating seat was against her back. She bobbled for a moment. Her arms were wriggling. Her hands were moving up and down, shaking. Feverishly, she stroked her face, chest, and belly. Her fingers tapped against her clothes and skin, pinching and squeezing. She clutched every piece of flesh, desperate to make them hers. It didn’t matter. The sensation was still there, nipping at her sides. The presence was alien, and it moved along as she touched her skin. Farcia felt the sensation follow. It was both physical and mental.

Tossing and turning, Farcia dropped out of the floating chair. She carelessly tumbled to the ground, and hit the matted floor with a thud. The whites and yellows were entering her eyes. The area was warm. Up above, Farcia saw the glint in the fringes of gold.

This was her shuttle. For some reason, she was inside it. Farcia pushed herself up from the floor, unscathed from the fall.

Welcome back.

Her face jerked toward the sound. The stiff words entered the air, but with no organic thought behind them.

Savior Farcia muttered. She recognized the voice. It was nearby. The Sentinel appeared from the corner of the room, dressed in her silver jacket. They looked at each other from across the shuttle’s cabin, trading an intense stare. The Sentinel seemed to be alone. She stood there, raising her head up into the light, as though she were waiting for something.

Farcia clawed the white hair away from her face.

More questioning she surmised, as her fingers wrapped around her neck.

She noticed the brace. It was a solid ring of cold metal, and it gripped her throat. She squirmed in response to the chill. Raw emotion told her to resist.

But before she could say any more, the Sentinel spoke. We’re here, Arendi said, pointing toward the cockpit. At the other end of the craft was the window. It was a panel of black, glazed with the view outside. The Sentinel walked away toward the cockpit. Farcia cautiously trailed from behind. This was her shuttle, but why were they here?

Even a nontelepath could have started to see an answer from the window and the data on display. The Ehvine symbols stretched across the glass, identifying their location, and a far-off planet lay in the backdrop.

Farcia, however, didn’t need any of it. Her power had returned. The sensation moved away from her to the fabric of space and time; the familiarity was stretched across the void. The chasm of black was the source. Her kin was there, in the night. She felt the call.

From the cockpit window, Farcia also saw the presence. It surrounded the world, undulating in a barrier of movement. At this range, the visual itself was small and seemingly harmless. The fractal of light churned against the thumb of a planet, swelling in a ripple. She could feel its immensity. Generating the display were groups of Endervar ships all of which were on guard. This was more than just a small fleet. This was a patrol. It continued without fail, scanning for viable targets. Their goal: to hold position and protect the neighboring planet from any intruders. Knowing this, Farcia looked at the Sentinel.

Arendi stood by, calmly piloting the shuttle. She pointed to the planet in the center of it all.

This is your base, I presume.

The Sentinel flashed her hand. The panel before them generated another line of Ehvine data and then another. Eventually, it filled with coordinates. Farcia read the letters and looked down at the shuttle’s console board. She realized that the flight record was there, stored inside. Then it dawned on her. Clearly, some time had passed. Her so-called base was located in another quadrant, a distant reach from the Alliance. She gazed back at the shuttle’s cabin and found that the hull had been completely repaired. Even her own health had recovered somewhat. She moved and breathed with relative ease. But as for her mind, the old wounds would never fully heal. Farcia felt them tear and bleed.

Do you wish to die? she asked.

This was her domain. The power was around her. It coursed through her veins and in the space itself. From here, Farcia could easily summon her kin. She had already begun to whisper; her telepathy echoed into the void. The patrol around the planet was ready to attack. The Sentinel, however, was completely nonchalant about the threat. She had prepared for this. On the tip of her tongue was the name.

Red, Arendi said. Cieras Novaire.

Farcia could feel the pain cut through the air. She cringed.

Your husband do you still care for him?

Farcia’s telepathy went brittle to the thought. Her whispers drifted into silence.

He’s still alive, Arendi said. Or at least part of him.

Farcia forced herself not to care. She tried to ignore the words and stormed out of the cockpit.

Don’t lie to me she said. I killed him. I screamed into his mind.

Farcia shuddered, crossing her arms tight.

I’m not lying, Arendi said.

I don’t care.

Farcia had already made her choice. Any remnant of her former self had been banished or suppressed. If anything, Farcia wanted the memories dead.

Why do you play this game? she asked. Haven’t you caused me enough pain?

Her eyes were saturated in black, and she trembled, gargling the words from her cheeks. If not for you, none of this would have happened.

Arendi, however, pressed on.

Do you want to see him again? I can make it happen.

The Sentinel was no telepath, but obviously she could sense something. Farcia cowered and placed her face in her hands. She felt exposed, listening to this offer.

Red Arendi said. I didn’t know him for long. But he believed

Don’t, Farcia muttered. Red is dead. He never wanted me.

Farcia refused to hear any more. She forced the thought out of her mind. In another glance, she looked past the Sentinel and toward the cockpit window.

That’s why we’re here, Farcia concluded. An exchange

It was true. Farcia’s base was there, on the planet. This shuttle had frequented the site many times, carrying her back and forth to the facility on the surface. Now the Sentinel wanted access. In return, she offered the figment of Red.

No, Farcia said. I won’t give in to you.

We are enemies, she thought. There was nothing more to say. Instead, she whispered. Her kin were on the move. The army fanned out, hearing the order. The ships would be there in several minutes. But they would do more than just patrol or surround. Farcia demanded that they strike out and destroy the very ground where she stood.

They would die together Farcia and this murderer. She could feel her kin coming closer. Even the shuttle’s alarm began going off. The Sentinel, however, reacted with little concern. She came closer, undaunted by the encroaching threat. No matter the resistance, Farcia could not ignore her. With another wave of the hand, the Sentinel brought up the other offer.

If Red won’t sway you, then maybe this will.

***

It was far from ideal, but Arendi needed Farcia.

After weeks of travel, the Adamant arrived at the location logged in the flight record. Although the planet was there, so was the problem. The system was rampant with enemy ships.

Scans counted over thirty Endervar vessels near the destination. Too many to take on all at once or even to bypass. Not unless they had a strategy.

Arendi considered a possible answer. She was inside the shuttle with Farcia herself, offering the exchange. In reality, this was more of a gamble. The whole premise assumed that some part of Farcia might care. So far, it wasn’t working.

I won’t give in to you, the woman said, defiant.

She had been taken out of her long slumber, only to threaten and dismiss Arendi at every turn. Farcia stood in the middle of the cabin, resisting. Now her eyes were growing dim. The pools of black glared as the veins around them thickened.

Arendi then heard the warning. It came from both the shuttle and privately from her own internal comm.

Alysdeon was on the other end of the channel, monitoring the situation from the Adamant. The flagship was a distance away and out of range from Farcia’s telepathy and the enemy fleet.

As for Arendi, she was at risk. Through the comm, she could hear the growing static. Enemy interference was beginning to disrupt the signal.

Negative, she thought. Perhaps this whole premise was flawed. If the old Farcia still existed, Arendi could barely see it. No matter the persuasion, it wasn’t enough. So, with little time left, Arendi shifted tactics. Of course, she could send the shuttle into hyperspace and avoid the danger. But Arendi refused to give up. Instead, she focused on the other offer. It came from her wrist a bright-green hologram that rose into the air. Arendi held her hand out and let the virtual image take shape.

Maybe the old Farcia is gone, she thought. But perhaps she’ll care about this.

In the next moment, she noticed a change. She looked past the floating hologram to the glare on Farcia’s face. The darkness gripping the woman suddenly lightened. A neon glow flickered across her eyes.

You recognize this, don’t you? Arendi said.

On display was the secret Arcenian research. Although it was miniature in form, the mountain of machinery hovered in the shuttle cabin, its cryptic design conspicuous.

At first, Farcia said nothing to the screen of green. She merely looked up, speechless.

It’s called Gateway technology, Arendi went on. A scientist by the name of G. Kozanis developed it.

Sauntering closer, she altered the image to project the schematics. The casing around the machinery vanished, and the individual components separated and lay themselves out.

From what I know, it’s a type of teleporter. But it’s a broken one, incomplete, Arendi added. And yet, for some reason, you came to find it. In fact, you spent months, perhaps years, trying to track it down. Why? Why is this so important to you?

She waited for a response, only to watch as Farcia’s face shook under the pixilated light.

How do you have it? Farcia finally asked in a murmur.

During our act of sabotage, Arendi explained, my associate scanned the technology before he destroyed the research.

She shut off the image and went to her arm. The data chip ejected from the side of her wrist. Arendi held it now, holding up the tiny capsule between her thumb and index finger.

She wasn’t the only one with a copy of the research. But Farcia didn’t know that.

In my hand are the schematics, Arendi said. If it’s not important to you, then perhaps I should destroy it.

Arendi threatened to crush the piece of circuitry with a simple pinch. Her thumb, beneath the chip, began to press.

No! Farcia said. Please don’t.

Then tell your ships to stand down.

As Arendi made the demand, the alarm onboard sounded. Enemy contacts were racing to cut down the craft, but eventually the warning would abate.

Farcia placed a finger against each of her temples. She closed her eyes, and with a thought, she forced the Endervar ships to pull away. Arendi walked back to the cockpit and checked the scans. The enemy ships were changing direction.