The agent’s body convulsed and Artax held him tightly, his eyes rolling in his sockets with ecstasy. Finally, the Terran’s body fell limp and the gratification evaporated.
The door swished open again and Artax turned ready to chew Gorde a new one, only to find Commander Igra’s form framed by the light outside.
“Was that really necessary?” The Shanti said with disgust, eyeing the dead Terran’s wounds.
Artax wouldn’t have suffered such insubordination if the Commander wasn’t the General’s own daughter. “Perhaps not, Commander, but we got what we needed,” he said, tapping the side of his head. “Few can stand their bodies being broken like this one did. But everyone succumbs once you crush their minds.”
Commander Igra cocked her bushy eyebrows. “Everyone?”
“Everyone’s mind can be crushed. I’ve only ever sensed one who might stand against me.”
“You speak of the Primelord?”
Artax had spent many an evening dwelling on the Primelord’s mind, but he decided it best not to reveal as much to the Commander. The woman had been assigned to her position to keep an eye on him, after all. “The Primelord is an exception. I sensed someone else, not so long ago during our excursion to Colony 115. The Terran Captain who took Project Zero from us. Meeting him would be an…interesting experience no doubt.”
“It seems you’ve had your fill of interesting experiences for one day.” She eyed the hanging Terran once more. “The General is waiting for you in the QR.”
“Gorde has already informed me, I was wrapping things up here. I didn’t want to turn up…empty handed.”
“Give the old man my regards.”
Commander Igra turned her back before Artax could react, her tail swinging from side to side as she walked through the door. Artax watched how her body swayed. Shanti grace was something he could appreciate. The door hissed shut and Artax rubbed his neck, wondering why the damn woman couldn’t speak with her father herself.
Artax ducked into the quantum relay, his ship systems humming in the background.
General Ovious’s holoform waited for him in the center of the QR sphere. The Shanti warlord stood almost as tall as Artax, his shoulders wide and his chest puffed out with the usual Shanti pride. He wore a hooded cloak, and his disk-like yellow eyes glared from the shadows.
“It’s about damn time, Captain. What kept you so long?” He looked Artax up and down, searching for signs of what he’d been up to. “I hope you haven’t killed any more prisoners since we last spoke. Some would brand us as terrorists. We cannot give our enemies justification for such claims.”
“Of course not, sir. I wouldn’t dream of disobeying a direct order.”
The General’s dark nose twitched. “Did you get the access codes for the SIA mainframe?”
“Our captive took more persuading than I envisioned. But he…spat them out in the end.”
“The Primelord will be pleased to hear that. Things are moving much swifter than we anticipated. The oracle has given our opponents more of an edge than we thought possible. We will have to execute Program Injection immediately.”
“Already? We haven’t finished syphoning the last of the Vargs onto the Sentinel. It’s been over six rotations since the Ghost returned and kicked off the damn gang wars in the Underways. Our forces have only just recovered. Allow me to bring in two more shipments, at least.”
“We don’t have time. The battlefield has shifted, and we must adjust accordingly. The Primelord wants the operation pulled forward. We need to act while we’ve still got the element of surprise. It’s only a matter of time before Minister Straiya’s people figure things out.”
Artax slammed his fist on the rail. “I signed up with the understanding that we would pull this stunt off my way.”
“You question the Primelord’s direct orders?” General Ovious looked shocked.
Artax took a step back. “No, of course not. I merely want us to have the best chance possible.”
“You must have faith in our Lord. He has already guided us to victory. He will continue to pave the way for his return.”
“Of course. I trust the Primelord with my life.” Artax had learned the hard way what happened to those who opposed the Primelord. “When do we move?”
“Have your command team meet here this time tomorrow, and we’ll go over the new plan.”
“Of course, General. What of our insect friends?” Artax asked.
“The Aphnai are pleased with the egg we found on Colony 115. They hope to hatch a new queen soon and start rebuilding their hives.”
“Will they lend their support to the cause?”
“It’s too early to tell. They may be numerous, but without a queen the Aphnai can be…somewhat unpredictable, without putting too fine a point on it. When their queen has matured and taken control of the swarm, they should be more open to negotiations. For now, our Lord believes that our forces are sufficient for the task at hand.”
General Ovious saluted. “Hail the Primelord.”
“Hail the Primelord,” Artax echoed.
The channel cut and the General’s form dissipated into countless luminous blue flecks before fading to nothing.
Artax mumbled a curse as he turned to leave when the hairs on his necks stood on end and a familiar dreadful sensation rolled over his mind. Before he could brace, his consciousness was sucked free of his body and hurled through the cold void. Resisting the power that pulled was futile. Artax knew this well for he had tried before. He would have more success pushing a planet with his bare hands.
His consciousness crashed through icy water, and he lost control of his senses as they melded together. Can’t see. Can’t breathe!
Suddenly, a great invisible hand scooped him out of the deathly ether and dropped him into the commune chamber. Comprehension and consciousness combined with a jarring crash, and Artax found himself in a space where whispers mingled with cries of agony and laughter. Dreams and visions swirled around him like phantoms.
A line of flame appeared in the murk, burning away the cold, causing the ghostly shapes to flee as though frightened. The light shone much brighter than the last time he’d been summoned.
The Primelord has grown so much more powerful…I can hardly believe it…
“That is correct,” the Primelord’s haunting words emanated in blasts of heat from the licking line of flame, burning Artax to his core. “It’s good to be awake after so long and to have my power return.”
“Soon, we will release you from your prison, my Lord.”
“All in good time, my son. First, we must take the Suneye, but I sense weakness in you.”
“I’m merely concerned with rushing things, my Lord. We have not completed our preparations.”
“You do not trust my judgement?”
“Of course, I trust your judgement, my Lord. My faith is strong. I simply long for your release.”
“Do not fear, child. Your eagerness can be a great strength, but do not misplace it.”
The flaming words felt more intense, like whips licking flesh from Artax’s ethereal form.
“I understand, my Lord. I will curb my eagerness.”
Silence filled the chamber. Artax thought the red slit was closing when the Primelord’s words roared again. “While on the Suneye, you must locate the one known as Captain Jason Grimshaw.”
Artax’s interest piqued. “The Terran Captain who escaped Colony 115 with Project Zero? I will end him, my Lord,” he thought without hesitation. “I will make him beg you for mercy.”
The slit grew to a gaping wound, and a river of burning plasma poured over Artax. “No harm shall come to Grimshaw! We still need Project Zero, and only he can act as the key, at least for now. You will have Jason Grimshaw bring Project Zero to me. By then, I will be ready to return in the flesh.”
The plasma withdrew and pooled before Artax. It boiled and bubbled like molten rock. Something resembling a branch emerged from the surface, and it took him a moment to re
alize it was a hand, clutching at the wisps that flowed through the air. As though finding purchase, the hand pulled, and an arm arose from the molten mass, a head and shoulder appearing soon after. The featureless, fiery figure stood before Artax. He cowered with fear and pleasure in equal measure.
A black mouth split the burning face and opened to reveal a bottomless pit. “You still have concerns?”
“Getting this Captain Grimshaw to cooperate will be tricky, my Lord.” Artax held up his hands to protect his face as the heat increased. “If we launch the operation now, we’ll already be stretched thin on the Suneye.”
“I sense…jealousy…I see.” The figure walked toward him, its mere presence burning and freezing him at the same time. “Do not worry, Artax. You are still my favorite, and I will reward you accordingly.” The figure reached out and touched his chest.
Artax’s eyes rolled back in his head as boundless comfort, contentment, and ecstasy surged through his being. “Yes, of course, Primelord. I will do whatever you ask, no matter the reward.”
“And don’t forget, Artax,” the words hissed in his ears. “Kill as many people as you wish. But I want Captain Grimshaw alive.”
“As you wish, my Lord,” was all he could manage.
“Good.” The word sizzled and hissed like oily water thrown on an open flame.
Fire engulfed Artax and he closed his eyes, screaming in agony. The fire suddenly faded, and he opened his eyes to find himself curled, in the fetal position, on the hard floor of the torture chamber. His teeth chittered as he shivered, though the temperature had returned to normal. The commune had ended. It had all happened inside his mind, of course. As an experienced Psionic, he knew it had, but being in the Primelord’s presence always felt so…real. He tried to move and winced in pain. He unstrapped his breastplate and peeled back his subarmor. A hand-shaped burn with four digits blistered where the Primelord had touched his chest.
How is that even possible?
Artax sat up and wiped the half-dried drool from his cheek with a smile.
Jason Grimshaw isn’t going to know what hit him.
2
Sentinel Tower
Clio’s mind wove a web of doubt as she navigated the vast corridors of Sentinel Tower, blaster at the ready. Minister Straiya had called for help, and Clio was still shaking from the panic she’d heard in the Shanti’s voice—a voice that had always been strong and commanding respect. The comms line had cut before Clio could learn what was wrong. When she tried calling back, she found that the Tower’s communication network had been compromised. Getting a hold of Captain Grimshaw or the others proved fruitless, for her SIG wouldn’t connect. External lines appeared to be down too.
Clio swore as she sped through another corridor. On most days, she would have passed several people going about their duties; however, the Tower was all but empty as personnel focused on preparations for the annual Sentinel Ceremony taking place later in the week. Even at quiet times, guards dressed in Sentinel Tower livery manned every door. Clio hadn’t seen any since receiving the call.
Straiya’s pleas played on repeat in Clio’s head like dissonant bells. They’re breaking into my chambers, she’d cried. Help!
Clio wondered if she wasn’t rushing into a trap. What else can I do? I can’t leave Straiya to die.
She quickly checked her TEK’s systems. Shields were active, and armor integrity was full.
Clio wished Booster and Swigger were with her, but her furry friend was still undergoing rehabilitation after losing his arm on Colony 115, and Swigger was manning his post at the Aegi offices Straiya had assigned the operation on Andromeda Avenue—not that they spoke much after he called off their brief relationship. A slight pang of pain reared its head only to be drowned by Clio’s consternation. Self-pity would have to wait.
It was just her and the semi-automatic blaster in her right hand—she cursed the Tower Guard for their rigid rules around carrying in the Tower. Only designated guards were permitted rifles, and those guards were nowhere to be found.
Clio cautiously rounded a corner and pressed against the heavy doors that led to the Shanti Minister’s offices. She aimed her TEK’s audio amplifiers at the room and waited for their circuits to load.
It suddenly dawned on her that she hadn’t considered what to do if Straiya’s offices had been overrun. Perhaps she should have gone for help first after all. She pushed the looming regret aside. She didn’t have time to get help. Straiya might not have survived whatever had befallen her by the time Clio returned. She was probably too late as it was.
I’ll have to figure it out as I go. But how did they manage not to trigger the alarms?
Clio was no seasoned soldier, but she’d been in enough scrapes to know when something wasn’t right. Months of sitting behind a computer terminal and processing data in an attempt to track Chimera had made her a bit rusty, but the trials of Colony 115 had tempered her—transformed her. Training with Taza and Zora had also helped her grow physically stronger and faster than she’d ever been.
The audio amp pinged in her ear, and she swiftly scanned the offices beyond.
Silence. No activity, talking, or the usual sounds one would associate with a busy government department. Just silence. It all but confirmed her suspicions, and fear set her heart racing. She inhaled deeply and repeated the breathing pattern Zora had taught her as she reached for the door’s access panel.
The doors snapped open.
Clio cautiously poked her head inside to find the space as void of life as the Tower’s corridors. She expected to detect signs of a battle or some struggle at least. Didn’t Straiya’s guards even put up a fight?
She had seen Shanti in action on Colony 115. They were not the kind to be trifled with.
Were the guards in on it? If Chimera had managed to sneak several guards into Straiya’s service, they could have conducted their operation quietly. They could also have taken hostages, which would explain how everyone had suddenly disappeared.
Clio pressed into the open space, staying low behind desks and partitions. She slowly progressed toward Straiya’s chamber, snaking along the walkways, watching for trouble. On reaching her destination, she heard the first signs of life since receiving the distress call.
Someone inside Straiya’s office spoke in hushed tones. She could barely hear the words, even with audio levels turned to max, but at least one person was inside the room.
Clio sneaked to the opened door and crouched just outside, waiting to hear more.
“The girl isn’t coming,” a nasal voice said. “She’s probably gone to get help.”
“She tends to act without thinking,” a gruff voice answered. “She’ll be here.”
From their dialect, they were Shanti alright, and Clio was sure she recognized one of them.
“Typical woman,” the nasal voice spat.
“I wouldn’t underestimate her. Remember what she pulled off on 115.”
“Those reports are exaggerated. Mere stories. Everything I’ve heard about that whole affair is so damned far-fetched. They should have chucked that Grimshaw character in an insane asylum and thrown away the key.”
“If you had your way, you’d lock all Terrans in a cage.” The gruff voice laughed.
“You better believe it. They’re a scourge on the galaxy.”
Clio controlled her breathing again and steeled herself. As far as she could tell, there were only two, but they were expecting her. The guards also seemed to know a lot. Maybe Straiya had sold her out. Politicians were a spineless bunch. All it would have taken was a gun to the Minister’s head, and she would have spilled everything. Clio always knew the Shanti couldn’t be trusted.
Sounds like they probably know about my fury genes too. Grimshaw had warned her that such information would draw attention from undesirable sources if it ever got out, but that was why they had kept it secret.
Clio sneaked a glance into the room, ready to fire just in case. She pulled back when no one had seen he
r.
One guard had his back to her and obscured another who sat in Minister Straiya’s chair with his boots up on her ornate desk. The one she could see wore a variation of the Sentinel Tower exoframe, though it was more robust than the standard issue ornamental gear, an officer’s armor. Not only had Straiya’s security team been compromised, whoever it was had somehow infiltrated the higher ranks. There was no telling whether it was Chimera, but Clio didn’t know who else it could be. A politician as powerful as Straiya had no doubt made many enemies.
I can handle two, she told herself, tightening her grip on her blaster.
“I think you’re right,” the gruff voice said. “Bitch must have gone for help like Straiya asked her.”
“In which case we better get going,” the nasal voice said. “If the Minister doesn’t stop yakking, I’ll have to shut her up.”
“Our orders were to take Straiya in unharmed,” the gruff voice objected. “She’s no good to the boss dead.”
“Who said anything about killing her? But there’s nothing wrong with having a little fun.”
The intruders chuckled.
“Let’s get out of here before Hallak gets trigger happy and detonates those explosives.”
Clio charged into the room, discharging half of her rounds into the nearest guard as he turned. He dropped faster than she’d expected. She emptied the remainder of her magazine into the second guard, knocking the blaster from his hands as he climbed out of the chair. Clio reached for her knife and sprang over the desk. They toppled over the chair and crashed to the tiled floor. Clio straddled the intruder with her knife pointed at his neck. His arms pushed against hers, and exoframe servos whined as one sought to overcome the other. She shifted her weight forward, and the tip of the blade descended inch by inch.
The room suddenly spun, and her knife clattered to the ground. He had somehow broken free and disarmed her.
He lept for her knife, and she scrambled after him. They wrestled and clawed for ownership of the weapon. Her fingertips touched the hilt, but the intruder snapped it from her grasp. Clio dodged a swipe and grappled his arm. They wrestled again, and the guard ended up on top of her.
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