The Forsaken Empire (The Endervar War Book 2) (8 page)

You’re right about one thing. She is looking for something. She almost has it. I just remember the planet. Vellanar something was there. Either on the planet or near it. She was just waiting maybe preparing for another attack.

He spoke every word uncertainly and slowly, as though he were delicately tiptoeing over a rope. But it was more than that. Lives were possibly on the line. The Arcenian home world was home to eleven billion of them.

You have to warn the planet, Red said. Even if I’m wrong something has to be done, just in case.

He was nervous. The sense of doom was not just his own. It had come from Farcia. The memories from her were tainted with it.

The Sentinel woman crossed her arms. Can you verify? she asked Justice.

The ensign had been quietly observing Red. He felt her mind delicately prick at his thoughts.

Yes, the ensign said. He’s telling the truth.

The Sentinel then released her arms. Good. Then it’s agreed.

Red felt his surroundings briefly sway. His weight was shifting. It was a gentle push, as though his body were ready to rise. The bridge or the ship was moving. He felt his body sink back into balance.

Dropping out of hyperspace, the Sentinel said. I’ll alert Alliance Command and advise that they send a fleet to Vellanar.

He saw that the woman did not manipulate any controls. She simply stood there, steadfast, interfacing with the vessel in her own remote way.

Justice, work with Red, she added. Try to see if he recognizes anything else from our analysis. We need to know what Farcia might be after.

Understood, the ensign replied.

In the meantime, I’ll plot a course for the Arcenian Empire.

In another few minutes, the ship would return to hyperspace, and Red’s body would sway again. But for now, he looked back at the screen, alarmed.

These were not just scientists. These were her intended victims.

Farcia, he said, what are you planning?

Red lingered on the question, afraid of the answer.

Chapter 9

It was born from death alone, lost, and utterly deviant. The structure was vast and hauntingly one of a kind. It stretched for miles. The metal and machine at times seemed endless. As always, the structure found refuge in shadow. Seeking the cold, it embraced the vacuum, wherever it might be. This was its nature: to strike from afar, away from the light and from any prying eyes.

Inside was more of the same. The domain was draped in shadow, and the surrounding darkness was deep. Oxygen and warmth were almost alien here; instead, every hallway was a near tomb. A labyrinth it was. A lair without soul. In truth, this was no place for the living. The machine masters had built it for themselves and no one else.

Nevertheless, here she was, at the core. Her face and eyes were just as black. Farcia screamed. The shrieks echoed through the central confines, tearing through the pocket of oxygenated air. Her cheeks chattered to her cries. The pain was almost too much to bear. She yelped and then clawed at her legs; her fingers scratched, clutching at her clothes.

No! she cried, cringing and twisting in her chair. Not yet.

The symptoms had grown worse in the last year. The headaches, the nausea, and the fatigue had all persisted. The illness came fast and slow, the bouts of agony, sporadic, either nipping away at her or knifing into her. It swelled again, a fire shooting through her body. Farcia muffled her sobs. She placed her bony hands on her face, wishing she could scratch it all away.

But no, all she possessed was this: the wretched body of a naïve woman. Letting the tears roll from her eyes, Farcia slowly rose from her seat. With all her will, she fortified herself and remembered why she was there. Farcia spoke to her companion. To the Enforcer.

Are you satisfied now? she asked, nearly staggering. We wait to strike

Breathing hard, Farcia stared into the darkness, clutching her sides. She had done the deed, orchestrating the movement.

Already, she had killed thousands. Now she needed to kill more.

From the shadows, her accomplice spoke the machine Enforcer never far. On this occasion, he came from the structure itself. The lifeless voice bellowed:

Yes. Our plan is in place.

She heard the fabricated words but was still impatient.

We cannot fail, she said, beseeching the Enforcer. If it truly exists, then we must have it.

Agreed. Target at Vellanar is confirmed and verified. However, caution is advised.

She glared at the darkness. The concern was festering in her eyes. In response, the Enforcer showed her the images, highlighting the danger. Briefly the shadow scattered. An excess of light had breached the room. It beamed in, the columns of blue and red splicing together and splashing out. Feeling the sting in her eyes, Farcia closed them before warily glancing at the sight. It was the latest report. The scans were taken from the Enforcer’s own surveillance probes. What she saw was a star system, along with an unexpected fleet. Farcia watched as the vessels arrived, jumping out of hyperspace. The Enforcer counted over twenty core vessels, backed by hundreds perhaps thousands of space-based drone fighters. Even worse, more were likely inbound.

The Alliance how? she asked.

But she already knew the answer.

Red, she thought, nearly choking on her breath.

Days ago, during the failed assault, he had been there, inside her mind. It was a moment of weakness and now a moment of regret. How much did he learn? Was it all a mistake? Reaching for her face, Farcia clawed at her cheek. With each scratch, the nails bit into her deadened flesh. As always, she felt the pain. But this time, she embraced it.

None of this matters. she murmured. We will not stop.

Flaring in rage, she opened her palm and imagined it. Her fingers were clenching and squeezing, wanting to crush the fleet now on its way.

No matter how many ships they send, it will not be enough.

Farcia wanted this. She wanted it more than ever.

From the shadows, the Enforcer watched, satisfied in his own way. Indeed, they were close. Their search was almost at an end.

Understood. Then we shall proceed.

No, Farcia replied. We’ll do more than that.

She went to her wrist. Along her left arm was the cybernetic sleeve. It hugged the skin tightly, translucent in its circuitry. The mixture of fabric and technology activated and responded to her command. Farcia clenched a fist, as the neon glow emerged from her arm, producing an image. It quickly flashed, beaming onto the floor and then into the air. Two figures materialized. A man and a woman, both familiar. For weeks now, she had been studying them, pouring over their classified records. Farcia knew their story well. All of this was because of them.

Our famed Sentinel will likely be there, she said. But we’ll be ready.

Gazing at the images, she walked, holding in her disdain. The woman on display was named Arendi Soldanas. The other was a well-decorated human pilot. She had met the Sentinel face-to-face only recently. But Farcia also knew the man well. Or at least something of him. Feeling the light, Farcia contorted her face. The dry gills at her cheeks cracked.

Captain Julian Nverson, she said with a rare, sinister laugh.

Taking a swipe, she waved her hand. The images shut off, and the gloom returned. The pain still blistered, aching in her neck and knees. But she very quickly remembered what she sought to do.

No more hiding, Farcia said. Before this is over, she’ll know my pain.

Chapter 10

Arendi agreed. There was nothing to like about this.

On the one hand, the threat of an attack seemed evident. All the data points suggested it. On the other hand, she had little definitive proof and no specific details. Not even the exact target. All she had was conjecture, along with the blurred suspicions of a captive telepath.

I know, Arendi said, speaking over the encrypted comm. But I need your help, Admiral. This is crucial.

She could see him now. The old commander placed his scaled face into his palm. He sat behind his desk and sighed. Puffs of steam were venting from his nostrils.

Savior, he said. These are not the tidings I thought you would bring.

The Arcenian loomed large behind the table, his eyes and face sharp and surrounded in ridge and bone. But the admiral spoke the words kindly, grinning behind his muscled hand.

Arendi didn’t know the admiral that well. They had only met a few times before, largely because of common friends. Back then, Admiral Onatagias was still the Alliance’s supreme commander, and, like Arendi, he had been there at the end of the Great War. Much had changed since then. The admiral had moved on, returning to his home world to lead the Arcenian military.

The old commander now spoke to her from his office on Vellanar, in the planet’s capital city. Normally he wouldn’t have taken such an impromptu meeting, but this was Arendi. Out of his deep respect, he had to.

Let’s say you’re right. That this Farcia does come. Is there any way to block her telepathy?

Arendi shook her head.

We’re not sure. The science teams are working on a solution. But at the moment, it would have to be applied individually and modified for each race.

Hmmm. Very impractical, I imagine. Especially, when we have no idea what she wants, or where she’ll strike.

That’s why I’m making this request. I need access to Arcenian military networks, even confidential ones. If I can take a look, maybe I can pinpoint what she’s after.

G. Kozanis, he replied, his chair creaking. The admiral leaned back, letting the name sink in. He hadn’t heard it in years.

Admiral, Arendi said, insistent. I know I’m asking for a lot. But the need is urgent, and I assure you and your government

No, no. I trust you. That was never a question, he said. But still even so, I’m not sure I can comply or secure such a thing, he said.

Arendi wasn’t surprised. This was a serious request arguably an outrageous one. Access meant she’d have a direct link to any confidential documents or state secrets kept in the empire’s networks. It didn’t help that the Arcenian government had taken a particularly hard line regarding access to sensitive data. Following the Ouryan Civil War, all military infrastructure had been reinforced and sectioned off from the galactic networks, including those operated by the Alliance.

I’m sorry for the complications, the admiral said. But regardless, I’ll have my people work on this.

Arendi was not consoled. Onatagias, I need that access. Your staff might miss something. This time, there are too many lives at stake.

She didn’t need to remind him. Almost daily, the galactic news spheres ran their reports on the white-haired woman and her attacks. Fear was growing that she’d strike again, but on a larger scale.

Now an Alliance fleet was in orbit around the Arcenian home system, patrolling the fringes.

I understand. Please, let me get back to you, he replied. I promise it will be soon. Within the day.

Although the admiral could so far offer nothing, Arendi could hear his sincerity.

Thank you, she said. I’m sorry. It’s been too long.

Arendi smiled uncomfortably. She didn’t say it, but she had failed to keep in touch with many of her old contacts. It was something she had never been very good at. What friends she had were mostly few and scattered.

No. Thank you, the admiral answered. I’m glad you came to me with this. All I can say is if Farcia comes, the Arcenian Empire will be ready. Our own defensive systems are on alert, as we speak.

The admiral then rose from his chair. Admittedly, Arendi was no expert on the Arcenian race. But even as the steam left the admiral’s lip, she could see the worry in his face.

Tell me honestly. Is this just the Unity? he asked. Or do you expect worse? Is this what we always feared?

She looked at him, wishing it was neither. If only it were a heinous crime or some territorial spat, like everything else. But if it was, I never would have come to you, would I?

No, Arendi. I don’t believe you would have.

The admiral stared back over the comm feed. She didn’t respond directly to his question, but already he could sense the answer.

Then I’ll assume the worst, he said. I’ll alert my armies.

Good. We can’t leave anything to chance.

The admiral then signed off, vowing to remain in touch. Arendi hoped it would be enough. But as she left the comm and reactivated her physical systems, she realized that perhaps she should heed her own advice.

It was clear whom she really needed to contact.

***

The ship plunged deeper into the Arcenian Empire jumping via hyperspace to reach the destination. Red saw the visuals from the bridge. It was his green world brought to life.

The planet filled most of the screen and was lit by the sun. A sea of green and moss appeared, accented by tufts of clouds rising high. He watched as the vessel took position and began the descent; it dropped slowly, falling into orbit. From there, it all seemed to float beneath him, glacially rolling against the night. He could see oceans and continents, but also entire cities. The structures sprawled out, over land and air, veining through the rock or clustering under the clouds. For moments at a time, green was replaced by splashes of steel and electric light.

It was, indeed, a world of eleven billion. The civilization had fully claimed the planet, along with the rest of the system, and so many others like it.

Vellanar, Red whispered, trying to pronounce the strange name.

He knew little of the Arcenians. The archival photos showed a species mostly humanoid in form, but with tails and almost armored skin. Still, they oddly reminded him of his own people. Not so much for their culture or society, but for their empire and its sheer size and scale. Of the different races that had joined the Alliance, the Arcenians represented one of the larger powers. Their territory and influence spanned the entire sector. But perhaps more notably, they had resisted the Endervars for millennia, fighting in the Great War. It was a conflict from which the Arcenians and many others had yet to fully recover.