The Forsaken Empire (The Endervar War Book 2) (3 page)

What?

Red flinched. He pressed his face into his hand. The motion was so fast, the palm nearly slammed into his eyes. His blood was boiling. The strain was sudden. From the bar, he heard the crash. Then it came from across the table. Roars and screams. A commotion. Red felt it. His telepathy instantly made him aware. The sensation was deathly. The agony was excruciating. He fell off his chair, as though he had been struck down. He was on the bar floor, barely able to move. There was nothing to see or sense. There was only the pain, and then there was more.

What is this?

He was starting to see things. Things he thought he didn’t understand. Only he did. He had seen this before everything was dying.

Red could hear the voice behind it. This was familiar. He hadn’t felt it in years.

Farcia

As he thought the name, the pain receded. Something, but not him, was holding the sensation back. Red made a fist and pushed himself off the floor. He pulled off his visor and the head scarf from his face. It revealed his white hair and rosy dark eyes. He gasped for air. At first he could barely stand. But he pushed forward, trying to react. He could still hear the screams. Wiping his eyes, he focused and looked down. The hunter was on the floor, cradling his face in his hands. It was the same pain, digging into the man, forcing him to live it. Red heard the clattering of words, all of it unintelligible; the translation was overshadowed by a choking cry.

Laboring to breathe, the hunter extended a hand toward Red. His fingers clamped onto Red’s arm and clothes. He was shaking and screaming through his mask. The puffs of air were blowing like steam.

II don’t understand Red said, watching in horror. The hunter was about to die. He felt the panicked drool soak into his hands. The hunter was salivating, perhaps even bleeding. Red opened his mind, trying to help, but was forced to pull back. The pain remained in the man, circulating everywhere. Everywhere but Red. The hunter let go, dead. His breathing had ceased.

Red rose and ran. The sensation was still there. The telepathy was eating into its victims. He left the bar and saw the others. They were like the hunter. Either dead, dying, or comatose. Bodies littered the hallways. Inhabitants were slumped over vendor stalls or on the floor, yelping in pain.

Red ran through the winding hallways. The ghastly view followed him. The massacre grew. The cries echoed. But now Red could feel it even more. The voice. He was close. The source was near. He ran harder, toward the stairway. He emerged into the station’s main promenade. It was a circular area large, and built to accommodate hundreds. In fact, he had been there before, passing a crowd and then a security checkpoint. There was none of that anymore. At his feet were more bodies. More victims, scattered across the floor.

No he said.

It was nearly the same sight. A room sapped of life. But still he looked, seeking the source of it all.

She was among them the reason he had come. She stood in the center of the promenade, surrounded by her victims. Then she walked past them, immune to it all. Anyone else might have seen a faceless woman. But he saw the smile. It was in her eyes.

Red Farcia said. I’ve found you.

Chapter 3

She was different. Not at all the way he wished to remember her. Gone was the innocence, along with the youth. This was no longer a young girl but a fugitive. Or perhaps even more appropriate, a living weapon one that seemed worn and battered, ready to break.

Farcia walked, ever slowly, almost fragile in her marble-patterned gown. She had aged heavily since the last time Red had seen her. The luminescence of her Ehvian skin was still there, but everything else had faded. Her hair and face were limp; the body and cheeks were thin and sunken. Red saw little elegance. Only a graceless woman and that dark trace where great beauty once was.

But most striking were her eyes and the deep cloud of black that shrouded them. He saw the tears. The drips of charcoal were falling to her chin.

How long has it been? she asked in a long, wet sniff.

Farcia spoke to him, not with a telepathic thought, but in a thin and weakened voice. It uttered from the hidden slits in her cheeks. The grumble could barely be heard.

As for the deathly sensation, the telepathy around the woman had all but evaporated. Her mind was closed off. Although she approached, mentally, Farcia would not let him near. She breathed heavily from her gills and wished to only speak in the most minimal way.

What what have you done? he asked.

Above, the advertisements and music continued to play, undisturbed. The holoimages were beaming in neon. But Red saw and heard none of it. He was in a state of disbelief.

He walked into the promenade to meet Farcia, the slaughter near his feet. It was all eerily calm a station bustling with activity had quickly been silenced. He heard a few more dying moans. Next to him lay a man, face down and unconscious. He was shivering, in the midst of a seizure, his containment suit cracked and oozing gas.

Red stared at Farcia, demanding an answer. She looked back, unapologetic. Whatever sympathy she had, Red saw none.

I had no choice, Farcia whispered. Security detected us.

He looked through the bodies and noticed the smoke. Mechanical contraptions that resembled moving bots were on the floor, smashed. Red smelled the air signs of weapons fire, he thought.

It doesn’t matter, she said. I came here to find you.

Farcia coughed into her hand. Then again. The strain was evident. She fell onto one knee, then the next. She was holding her chest and stomach, cringing. Red ran to her, weaving through and over the bodies. He was only a few feet away when his blood boiled again. It coursed with anticipation. This was her. To be this close. Finally

But suddenly, he stopped; his blood ran cool. Farcia was not alone.

It seemed to materialize out of nothing a metal arm. It hung in the air, blocking his path. The palm opened. The fingers were like knives. Red watched as the rest of the body appear. It was armored, perfectly polished, and tiled in chrome.

Like Farcia, this was a weapon. A war machine plated in metal and towering over Red. It stood partially draped in shadow. Whatever cloak it deployed was receding, revealing angular arms and legs shaped as blades. Red looked up and gazed into its singular eye. It flashed, burning in hostility. This is what had destroyed the security bots now shattered on the ground. The figure glared at him, and he sensed its strength and speed. He felt as if the machine could crush him under its feet.

Farcia coughed. He looked down and saw her wiping her face. It was saliva from the ducts in her cheeks, along with blood and bile. The tainted scarlet was drying across her hand.

Perhaps, she smirked, I’m finally dying

She was not well. Red cautiously moved past the machine. He circled around Farcia’s companion and knelt down to meet her.

What happened to you?

Farcia remained closed off. Her gaze fell to the floor and lingered there, her eyes blinking away tears.

My body it’s changing. Can you help me?

She sounded soft and wounded. Red reached out and brushed back the hair over her eyes. It came naturally to him. His fingers raised the white and silver strands to touch the brow of her face.

Farcia responded. She remembered this. Closing her eyes, Farcia tilted her face into his hand. Her skin was hard, but moist with sweat and tears. She was exhausted, maybe even ashamed.

Red caressed her cheek.

Openopen your mind, he asked, wiping the tears away.

For a moment, he could sense it. The sensation was faint, unaware, but alive.

Please, he said. I want to help.

Red then ended his words with a thought: Trust me.

And so she did.

It was brief, but it happened. One mind and another, side by side, ready to meld. A mixture of emotion and thought were transferring to Red, arriving in a flood. Then, in another moment, he fell back. Farcia pushed him away, slapping him in the face. He felt the fingers and the cold tears upon them.

No! she screamed. This was a mistake!

Farcia held one side of her head, ducking away. She then crossed her arms, shaking.

No, it’s too late, she nearly shouted.

Red leaned back, afraid. Her tone was harsh and halting. She was furious. Maybe even delirious. Her breathing, however, began to steady. Gradually she regained focus and immediately closed off her mind.

Nothing else matters, she said. Nothing will stop us.

She said the words almost as a threat. She had severed any mental connection to Red. Farcia sought to discard any weakness. Any affection was gone and rescinded.

Watching all this was the machine. It came to her, ready to protect, moving in near silence. Farcia felt the shadow upon them.

The machine her enforcer spoke. Contacts detected. Security forces inbound. There was no emotion in the words. The voice was cold and exact.

Red turned around. At the opposite end of the promenade, he could hear them. Security bots were coming; their blinking lights were beginning to appear, and their engines were buzzing. The pod-sized contraptions flew into the premises, preparing to stop Farcia with stun guns in their pincered hands. There must have been eight or more, gliding in perfect formation.

Red saw them all explode. A plasma beam, dense but precise, began to burn through the air. The security bots collapsed to the ground in heaps of simmering debris. He cowered as he heard and felt the blast. It shrieked from behind as Farcia’s machine companion vented heat. The singular eye from its head charged and unleashed the attack. The enforcer struck repeatedly, lashing out across the area as more security forces appeared, instantly defeated. Red covered his ears, terrified, and watched as the burning bots crashed into the floor. He could hear the gnarled metal twist as the hovering engines ruptured into melted bits.

Then a hand touched his shoulder. We have to leave now.

He stared up and saw Farcia. She pulled him up from the floor. Her fatigue had subsided, and her defiance was real. Red then noticed her left wrist. It was a long sleeve. The fabric was laced with circuits and an embedded display.

Calculating jump point, she said. Departure imminent.

A ship?

Farcia didn’t answer. She looked past him, eyeing the remnants of the security force. The flames still burned; the bots were all dead. But something else was beginning to emerge.

Farcia’s enforcer, who was scanning the scene as well, spoke. Movement, the machine said. Spatial shielding detected.

Red stared. He was peering through the smoke. Behind the abating fire was the vague outline of a figure. This was no aerial bot. He heard the footsteps. It walked through the rubble unafraid.

Farcia left Red’s side, watching in anticipation. Even with the smoke, she could tell who this was. Her eyes lit up wide.

Murderer she said. So we finally meet.

Her fatigue was forgotten. Farcia stood, facing and almost daring the new threat.

Preparing contingencies, the machine at her side announced.

The enforcer did so, in an unexpected way. Red could hear the sound of rushing liquid and gyrating instruments coming from the machine’s armor. The layers of metal and gears were peeling and mechanically clattering off. The transformation came alive; the towering machine was generating others of its kind. The reinforcements were quick to assemble and arrive. There were one, two, and then finally four. They were smaller and slimmer, closer to Red’s height, but nearly identical to their source a bladed machine ready to fire.

Farcia remained steady.

Let her come, she said.

The enforcer and its kin waited, each one assuming an attack stance. Their knives were sharp and poised to strike. Then they all disappeared, slipping away into light and shadow.

Red looked at the rubble. He could now see what was coming. To him, it was just another outsider. An alien not of his world. The figure possessed pale but familiar features. A closer look made him guess it was a woman. She walked alone, seemingly unarmed. Red watched, wondering why. Was she not afraid?

He opened his mind and began to understand. He felt nothing from the woman. Nothing at all.

Another machine? he asked.

Whatever she was, the woman stopped, and spoke, dead bodies and smoke surrounding her.

This is Sentinel Soldanas. You are under arrest for crimes against the Alliance.

She glared directly at Farcia, undaunted by either her or the mechanized enforcers, which had suddenly disappeared. She was wearing only an armored jacket. Her hands were open and free. Her feet and legs were lacquered in ribbons of steel. If she was a machine, then this so-called Sentinel would be immune to Farcia and her attack. Along the woman’s wrist, Red noticed strange bands. They were a technology that glittered in darkness.

There’s no escape, the Sentinel went on. Alliance ships have already begun to surround the station. Stand down or face lethal force.

The Sentinel moved into her attack stance. One foot was back, the other forward. Her hands were down at the waist.

Farcia, however, stepped forward and smiled. The jump point had been calculated. In fact, it had already taken hold.

You underestimate us she said, opening her left hand.

It came as a bang. A flashing light that blinded Red. He shuddered, reeling from the sting in his eyes and ears. Shaking his head, he began to realize that everything had changed. The heat had escalated, and a crackle was stirring in the air. He looked over his shoulder to find it: an inferno was burning. A ring of fire had appeared where the Sentinel once stood. He could no longer find the mysterious woman. Instead, he saw Farcia standing before the storm.

Follow me! Farcia yelled.

As he regained his senses, Red squinted. This was more than just a fire. He looked and saw the opening. Spinning in the air was a vortex a gaping hole fringed in flames. It grew before them, fueled by some alien power. The fire howled, consuming the space.

Red shuffled back, afraid. Farcia, however, was at the precipice and ready to take plunge.