Bursts of light pulled his attention to schematics and battle plans projected before him. Updates from his commanders streamed in, along with quivering panels which demanded his response. But the phrase wouldn’t let go.
They’re alive…
Helpless to resist, he found his gaze drawn to a small holographic image, floating just out of reach. There, a copper-skinned beauty draped with long black hair stood among a ragged crowd. A youth clung to her side, chocolate eyes peering out, beaded in terror.
Anaka. Rhyiel.
His heart swelled with a confused mixture of love, loss, and shame.
The image was taken directly from the stolen Nukari archives, along with information that placed it posthumous for his family. It shouldn’t be possible, yet everything about it appeared legitimate.
Alive…
His mind still rejected the notion. How many years had he suffered the same nightmare? He didn’t even have to be dreaming to relive it. Nukari fighters opened fire on the escape pod carrying his family. He heard his son’s cry, his wife’s shriek, felt the shockwave of the explosion. Each accursed time he awoke to the sound of his screams echoing off the walls. It was a cruel torment.
And yet, as his mind separated fact from fiction, reality from nightmare, one truth emerged. He never saw their escape pod explode. His superhuman abilities emerged in a blinding light before the Nukari even fired. Instead, he fell unconscious, waking weeks later in a top-secret Coalition hospital. There he learned of the complete annihilation of the Coalition’s space station, everyone aboard, including his family. The Nukari left no survivors—except him.
What he relived each night was not truth, but rather a fabrication of his own mind, served up in the most horrific way possible. Until seeing the recovered picture, he never considered another fate for his wife and son.
He fidgeted with the wedding ring he’d once taken off, having accepted their passing. Their survival should have made him feel better. It didn’t. His head shook in disgust. It shouldn’t be easier to believe they were dead. A part of him wished it true. Before, Anaka and Rhyiel met a quick fate. But now they were prisoners of a cruel and ruthless enemy.
Are they suffering?
He winced. His heart ached at the thought. There was no greater pain or shame than failing to protect his family. His stomach knotted. A bitter taste rose in his throat.
Will it be today?
The phrase danced in his mind like steak dangled before a starving pit bull. The thought greeted him every morning. For a while it represented hope that a new discovery would lead to his family. But now? Now, it was a torturous mantra that mocked him. Desperate, it teased him before every attack, plagued him after each victory. The answer was always the same: no. All he wanted was one data point, one tiny clue to show him the way. Or, a sign their suffering had ended.
Rhysus, they’re alive.
He’d give anything—do anything—to free them. Despite it all, nothing he did got him any closer to it. He felt his heart pound, and his face prune with anger. Nothing would stop him. He’d keep hunting until he had answers.
With a swipe in the air, the updates before him transformed into a holographic timeline dotted with events and glowing panels of information.
Nine months.
It felt longer. Kiyanna Kyoda had done well. The former military scout and hoverbike enthusiast had proved herself a skilled military strategist and D’mok Warrior. Her siege against the Nukari began with the destruction of their command hub.
It was a calculated but desperate play. Her plan gave them the only chance to strike their elusive enemy, and strike hard. But their victory came with great sacrifice. One undisputed hero emerged—a martyr.
Seigie …
The memory still shook him.
Defeat seemed imminent. Nukari reinforcements poured through an intergalactic gateway connecting to their home space. A massive ship, the Leviathan, was only halfway through when its cannons began shredding the allied fleet. Despite combining abilities, his D’mok Warriors couldn’t damage the gateway or the massive ship.
He should have known Seigie wouldn’t honor an order to retreat. She charged her own crystal body and became a living bomb. He realized her plan too late and turned only in time to see her detonation. A blast of multicolored light blinded him. Then, the entire gateway twisted, the connection across space imploded. The Leviathan cleaved in half. Lights aboard it flickered moments before explosive decompression spewed equipment and people into space and a hellish glow engulfed the ship.
Seigie saved them.
But I couldn’t save her.
Seigie’s sacrifice made Kiyanna’s plan succeed. From that point forward Kiyanna led the strategic planning of their offenses. Her strategies struck hard and continued to deliver results.
The same stolen data that revealed his family lived also enabled his team to hunt down Nukari facilities, stalk their allies, and take their resources. He smiled. They bestowed the same mercy the Nukari gave to the Be’Inaxi, his fellow Humans, the Nomads, and countless other races: none. The Nukari deserved nothing more.
He looked across the timeline. Each dot called to mind the many critical junctures: the allied fleet returned to full strength, the liberation of Tericn, the capture of Nukari resource posts, and the freeing of indentured worlds. At the end of the timeline sat a large glowing sphere decorated with five crossed swords.
He grabbed into the air. Attack plans along with the latest field reports extruded from the swords emblem. A satisfied grunt escaped him. With the field commanders in place, the final push on Abunai could begin. Another of his D’mok Warriors would reclaim their home today. But what was the bigger surprise: Naijen waiting patiently and following directions to retake his world, or the fact it took two days for Kiyanna’s strategy to unite the indigenous clans and knock the Nukari back to their final stronghold? Both left him in awe. Both led to this moment. A roguish grin stretched across his face.
“Nowhere left to run.”
His words rang with a sadistic pleasure. Once they captured the Nukari leadership, he’d allow Naijen to work something useful out of them. One of them had to know something that could help him find his family.
A gentle tone accompanied a holographic video which projected beside him. He glanced over. Rigid stance, blond crewcut—Kiyanna.
Early as always.
With a swiping gesture toward the video, it flashed green then disappeared. Behind him the door to the corridor opened. A gentle gust of cool air wafted in, along with the clopping of heavy leather boots.
“Sir.”
“Commander.”
She came to his side and snapped to attention with a quick salute.
He grinned. “At ease. You don’t really need to do that.”
“Habit, sir. I’d rather keep the formality.”
“As you wish. How goes preparations?”
“Ground teams are in position.…”
Before she could continue, a tone rang out again, with another video projection. An alien with a bony, light-blue exoskeleton, both aspects more prominent on his face, and pupil-less, jelly-like patches of red for eyes, waited impatiently.
“Ghn’en?” Mencari said, thinking aloud.
With a swipe, the door behind him opened. Mencari stood, concerned, and waited for the admiral of the Be’Inaxi fleet. The deep blues and purples of the Be’Inaxi uniform took on a grittier look in the dim light of the room. Ghn’en was an impressive specimen of his kind. In addition to his muscular, imposing size, he had two powerful arms and two more diminutive ones directly underneath.
“Is there a problem?” Mencari said as the bulky alien marched in.
“Things been too quiet.” In place of a mouth, two vertical slits ran along an elongated nasal cavity, which moved as he talked in two tones at the same time, lending a singing quality to his speech. “Some strange reports with phantom readings that can never be verified. I don’t have good feeling about it. I think we should mo
ve up plans.”
“The ground teams can engage on a moment’s notice, sir,” Kiyanna added.
“Let’s check with the Nomads before making the final call.” The others nodded as Mencari called out. “Minea, please connect me to Varen.”
He didn’t need to see Minea to know she was there. The artificially intelligent creation of Toriko Purg, once known as Mini-T, seemed to have no bounds since the change.
A flurry of holographic cherry blossoms swirled above them. From it, a radiant light poured into a female form. The detail of Minea’s remarkably Human face and long sandy-blond hair appeared. Tall fox ears perked up, as a long bushy tail waved happily behind her. Long gone was the bright pink, high-tech suit with white neon stripes. Instead she wore a sleeveless royal purple tunic decorated with white flowers, and a black sash. White cloth wrapped her arms. A hip-length silver fauld with white trim made her look ready for battle. Despite the changes, she still held on to her dramatic flair.
She playfully wagged her fluffy tail. “Connect you to Varen? Since you asked so nicely!” With a wink, a portal of light appeared. It spun briefly before tipping over. As it fell, a humanoid with dark coral skin and short locks of turquoise appeared.
“Varen here.” His face was placid with an unnatural calm.
Ghn’en’s red-jelly eyes glowed. “How is far space faring?”
“Secured, and under continuous observation. We have seen an increase in phantom readings however.”
Ghn’en grunted. “See, we shouldn’t wait.”
“I would agree with the admiral,” Varen said.
“Then we mobilize our forces now. Remember the goal: take their leadership alive.”
“Yes, sir,” Kiyanna said with another salute.
“Minea, please prepare the shuttle,” Mencari said. “Kiyanna and I are heading down to Abunai.”
“You got it!”
Today would be the day he’d get a lead on his family. He could feel it.
CHAPTER 2
Retaking Abunai
“It’s too late to hide, scum!” Nukari soldiers clad in black armor scurried the members of the Anto’liea Olympic Team into shelters. Every bulging muscle in his hulking tattooed body quivered as he watched the drone’s video feed. He wasn’t sure what he hated more, trying to work the geek’s toys or the Nukari he was spying on. His monstrous hand fumbled with the drone’s dainty controller. Why couldn’t it be more like his Skar? The heavy weapon cleaved through anything and could take a beating. Annoyed, he shoved the little stick forward using his palm. The drone moved in toward his target. He pounded a small yellow button, which zoomed the view in further.
Jaw clenched, he felt his teeth grinding. For over twenty years the Anto’liea were unbeatable in the Olympic competitions. They got to live in luxury, controlling their world’s dwindling resources while the rest suffered. Their domination had nothing to do with superior competitors. No, it took illegal enhancements and alien allies to keep them in power.
Today is for you, Jerin.
His little brother was deadly—every bit the fighter he was. When some Anto’liea scum took him out, he knew right there the Anto’liea couldn’t be playing fair. Today, he’d make sure they would all die slow, painful deaths. Soft metal mushed in his hands.
He didn’t need to look down to know what he’d done. The geek ain’t gonna like this.
Toriko. She should’ve known better than to trust him with her gizmos. He usually avoided them too, but the chance to see directly into the Anto’liea stronghold was too good to pass up.
From behind him, a brazen female warrior with an equal number of tattoos and muscle bellowed, “Naijen busted the control thing—again.” Her long mane of hair swept aside as she turned and called through the doorway, “Hey, you hear me?”
“Thanks, Butchie,” he grumbled.
“I’m on it!” a perky voice replied. A porcelain-skinned catgirl wearing a black tech suit dashed into the room. She moved so fast the glowing strips of red and yellow neon in her suit seemed to leave a streak. Even her long black hair with red highlights flapped madly behind her. One thing never made sense to Naijen about Terconians, especially the women. If they were supposed to be some type of cat person, then why did they have porcelain-skinned faces? They looked almost Human, if you ignored the little cat ears poking out their hairline.
In her hand was a replacement control stick. “Toriko warned me this would happen—a few times,” the catwoman said.
Maro Purg. For some reason he found her much less annoying than her sister Toriko. Maybe because Maro hadn’t electrocuted him a few times, or did other stupid things, somehow messed him up.
“Wanna bust heads, not just look at them,” he said.
“No kiddin’?” the female warrior chided. “We all want a piece of the Anto’liea, along with the tattoos we’ll get after. Don’t be stupid and blow this just cuz you wanna bust heads.”
He felt a sneer cross his face. Butchie always knew what to say to get his mind right. For a woman she was a hell of a fighter. She could take down anyone—except for himself, of course. Her hundred and ninety pounds of tattooed muscle was more warrior than most men he faced.
A youth with silvery skin and platinum locks entered saying, “We’re moving sooner than expected.” Speru Chew.
“Don’t tease me, boy,” he said. He knew Speru was twenty, and nowhere near a “boy.” But the title helped keep him in his place.
There was a time he didn’t see much use in the whelp. To natives like himself, tattoos were a sign of victory and accomplishment—of a warrior. Speru’s silver-tinted skin was as smooth and blemish-free as a baby’s butt. The most aggressive thing about him was his platinum hair styled in a reverse Mohawk. But when it came time to bust heads, what Speru lacked in muscle he made up for in bravery. He also had a unique gift of boosting everyone’s abilities. With a little added juice from Speru, he personally pulled off some devastatingly powerful attacks. When push came to shove, he wanted Speru by his side.
But that wasn’t all to why he liked Speru around. He didn’t like to admit it but he’d grown fond of the boy. He even felt off when they weren’t together. They’d gotten to that stage where they didn’t have to actually speak words for one to know what the other needed.
“No, it’s true, we’re about to move,” Speru said. “Kiyanna and Rhysus are landing now. When they’re in position, we’ll engage.”
* * * * * *
“Running final checks. Syncing with Maro’s network,” Toriko purred as she scampered about. “The uplinks to Kiyanna and Cerna control hubs are … stable. Good!”
“Keep me posted,” Mencari said. Ever since she changed to a bowl hairstyle, her feline ears looked twice as large. Her big eyes, tiny whiskers, and gentle humanoid face was disarming. In fact, it gave her a deceptively naive appearance. Given all the girl had been through, that was one quality he’d never associate with her. He swore she moved faster than usual lately. Perhaps her pink tech suit with white neon lines augmented her physical dexterity?
Holographic panels scrolling with data littered the air above her. “Are you kidding?” she said. “I’ll try to keep you filled in, but too many manual things to do yet.”
He worried that between these panels controlling the drones and the incoming data from the mobile attack platforms, she was grossly overloaded. Despite assurances her tech was ready for combat, she had a tendency to overpromise and underdeliver—even with the best intentions. Her optimistic thinking was exactly the thing that eroded the confidence of her teammates. Right now, the way she scurried about made him worry. It wasn’t so much in anything she said, but more so her body language.
Still, her newest gizmos were only a secondary force for this operation. The power came from the strike teams led by Cerna, Naijen, Kiyanna, and the aligned native inhabitants of Abunai.
A storm of holographic cherry blossoms appeared overhead. Minea poured from the glittering light. “Um, can … I help?”
/> “No. Nope. I … got it,” Toriko huffed, then stopped abruptly. “But this is taking way too long.”
“Um, yeah, that’s why I wanted to help,” Minea said, annoyed.
“Um, no, you focus on Rhysus and the others. This is mine.” A holographic cube appeared in the palm of her hand. She tossed it into the air where it exploded into a shower of light. As the glowing bits rained down, they re-formed into a foot-tall, holographic representation of her. She closed her eyes, then talked with a distorted voice through her holographic version. “Been a while since I used this baby.” With a thought, the mini version cloned itself over and over, each streaking into one of the panels scrolling with data.
“You’re sure you have this?” Minea asked. “This looks like a lot.”
Another Mini-Toriko spawned beside Minea. “Totes,” she said with a pawed high five. “Where do you think you learned to multitask? Hum?”
Additional Mini-Torikos appeared next to each panel. At nearly the same time the displays flashed green, and the corresponding Mini-Toriko clone burst into fireworks and disappeared. As the last finished, the glimmers sucked back into the holographic control cube. Toriko opened her eyes and cheered, “All greens—go!”
“Minea, open channels to Cerna, Maro, and Kiyanna … please,” Mencari said.
“You got it!”
Three portals of light appeared and began to spin. As they fell, profiles of Maro then Kiyanna appeared. Mencari waited for the third to drop. “We’re waiting for Cerna,” he said.
After a moment he looked to Minea. Her paws waved in the air, as if deflecting any responsibility. “The signal to her is getting through just fine.”
The third portal tipped over. Instead of the Amazonian-like queen with a crown of bone protruding from her forehead, a young girl with pale skin, oversized, glowing blue eyes, and unusually small nose and mouth appeared. Her wooly, muddy-brown mass of hair was pulled up and tied back. Any other child belonged far from battle. However, this near thirteen-year-old was born a D’mok Warrior, capable and deadly.
D'mok Revival 4: New Eden Page 2
