NORDIC WRATH (War In the Void Book 2)

by Anthony Thackston

Irons blinked hard, clearing his vision and found himself staring at the large eyes and white whispy hair of a Nordic woman. He quickly removed his arm and the woman’s hand instinctively went to her throat, massaging it. She coughed.

  “I am sorry for intruding in such an abrupt way.” The stranger’s tone was genuine.

  “Who are you?” Lindsay asked.

  Lowering her hand, the woman stood straight, shoulders back. There was something regal about her demeanor. Her stance alone made it hard not to regard her with some respect. It was a trait many Nordics shared. Especially those who had not integrated into Earth society or adopted any human habits and traits.

  She turned to Mona. “I am here to warn you about Haddron.”

  “What about him?” Mona asked.

  The woman turned to the rest of the room and addressed herself. “My name is Sitasha. And I was once a member of Haddron’s crew.”

  Five

  A Question of Command

  Hadron’s ship appeared in a bright flash of light.

  The only other artificial object in the dark of that section of space was an abandoned space station. Its solar panels were cracked and shattered, no longer useful for energy collection or storage.

  The large station slowly spun amid a field of small and medium sized asteroids. To anyone not looking for it, the station would blend in amongst the rocky coverage. But Haddron was looking for it.

  He signaled to the station with a series of flood light activations. The code was designed to let those on the station know it was him.

  The station acknowledged him with a response signal of its own. Though aimless and adrift, the space station was still operational.

  “I hope they are happy to see you,” Kar’libon said as if he knew the opposite was true.

  “My only concern is that they remember the mission.” Haddron kept his sights on the station until the lights finally went dark.

  * * *

  Haddron’s ship coasted toward the station dock and lined up perfectly with it. The space station was only slightly larger than his vessel. When the two connected, the station’s spin stopped, leaving both objects locked in place with the space rocks.

  Haddron and Kar’libon stepped into the airlock and were greeted by the cool hiss of anti-microbial gas. The gas was harmless to anyone or anything larger than a microscopic specimen. Kar’libon’s fur flowed as the pressurized air blew through it. When the gas stopped and the door to the station opened, Haddron had to stifle a laugh at his friend’s new appearance. The Catter warrior looked like he’d gone through an air dryer, and his fur stood on end.

  The inside of the station was sparse. In its operational days it was cramped with little space to move around. A crew of one found it claustrophobic but a crew of six was needed to keep the station in order. In its present state of emptiness there was more than enough room to move about.

  The station had once served as a way-port and communications expander during the first years of Earth’s interstellar travels. Now it was no more than a shell. The interior of the station had been gutted before it was left to float aimlessly, another piece of Earth debris abandoned to drift through the void.

  Haddron took little note of the blinking lights on the wall consoles. The few systems that were left over were useless without the right parts, most of which were gone. In their place were crude modifications, just enough to keep immediate life support systems functioning. It wouldn’t matter if these temporary repairs started to malfunction and shut down. This wasn’t to be a long stay for him.

  Haddron and Kar’libon stopped at a single door.

  “Gathering them in one spot was no easy task,” Kar’libon warned. “Jammin, in particular, did not appear receptive to meeting.”

  “Jammin is of small concern.” Haddron placed his hand on the door activator. “As long as he is here, he will fall in line as will the others. They seek revenge as badly as myself.”

  “Then why did they not exact if before your release?”

  Haddron placed his other hand on the Catter’s shoulder. “Because, my friend, they lack my imagination.”

  He opened the door and the two walked into a larger space.

  A blur rushed toward Haddron’s head. It stopped when colliding with Kar’libon’s forearm.

  “Jammin!” a woman shouted.

  Kar’libon grabbed the Nordic, Jammin’s, arm and dragged him in front of Haddron.

  “I see you still have your furry shield to keep you safe.” Jammin sneered.

  “We have each other’s best interests at heart. Unlike some associates.” Haddron signaled for Jammin’s release.

  The large Ka’traxis Brood warrior did as instructed.

  Second only to Kar’libon, Jammin was the tallest of the Nordics in the room, His shoulders were broader than Haddron’s and he kept his hair close cropped, like an Earth soldier’s. His demeanor was rough and aggressive. And to anyone who didn’t know him, it would have been a safe assumption that he was in charge. An assumption Jammin had tried several times to make true.

  “And you.” Jammin looked up at the Catter. “Your grip’s not as strong as it used to be.”

  Kar’libon hissed at the mocking Nordic.

  “Even so.” Jammin walked backwards. “It’s good to see you, Karl.”

  The Catter shook his head at the shortening of his name. “I will not tell you again—”

  “Relax.” Jammin shrugged his shoulders. “It’s just easier to say Karl.”

  Kar’libon ignored the last offense and took a place against the wall.

  Haddron walked up to a woman with dark strands in her otherwise white hair. “Naura. I am pleased to see you.” He embraced the Nordic woman.

  “And I you, Haddron. Were you treated fairly?”

  “In a human prison?” Haddron shrugged. “Let us just say they pushed the limits of the treaty.”

  “You could have taken them all out.” A thinner man sat on a metal conduit cover, twirling a knife.

  Haddron smiled and turned to the man. “And then what, Elit? Stay trapped till Kar’libon came to my rescue?”

  Jammin laughed.

  “A fate you would no doubt laud over me, Jammin?” Haddron turned to the rude Nordic man.

  “Are you suggesting there were no ships to take in that prison?” Jammin started toward Haddron.

  “A prison break? Such an intelligent and tactical suggestion. I’m sure no one would come after me and lock me up for even longer.”

  “I think you were too scared to make such a move.”

  The two Nordics met in the middle of the room, eyes locked on one another.

  “And you would have done so, would you?” Haddron asked.

  Jammin’s fists clenched. “I would have torn that place to the ground.”

  Naura stepped forward. “Haddron! Jammin!”

  “Let them have a go.” Elit slid the knife into a sheath on his leg. “Jamimin’s been aching for this since Haddron’s capture.”

  Kar’libon stepped behind Jammin, ready to defend his friend.

  “Easy, friend.” Haddron held up a hand. “I doubt he’ll do anything regrettable.”

  “The only thing I regret is having followed you into battle with the humans.”

  “Would we have been better served had we followed you?” Haddron stepped back, fully aware of what was coming next.

  “At least I wouldn’t have been captured after false—”

  Haddron raised his arms at his sides. “Come and claim it then. If you want the sword so badly. Call it out.”

  Jammin glanced at Naura and Elit then took note of where Kar’libon was standing before setting his eyes, once again, on Haddron. “I challenge!”

  Haddron smiled. “Of course you do.”

  “Stop this, both of you!” Naura commanded.

  It was too late. Both men had already made up their minds on the matter. There was no turning back now.

  Haddron arrived at the center of the room first but it was
Jammin who threw the first punch.

  Five knuckles cracked across Haddron’s face, spinning him around.

  Haddron continued the three-sixty spin, kicking his leg out and striking Jammin in the ribs.

  Jammin tried to grab Haddron’s leg but superior speed made the task impossible. Haddron recovered his stance and fired off a flurry of rapid punches. Jammin blocked all but two of them. It was the second one that knocked him to the floor.

  Haddron stomped at Jammin’s skull but the bigger Nordic moved just in time and spun on the floor, sweeping at Haddron’s legs. He struck his opponent hard, knocking him down.

  Haddron hit the floor but popped back up just as fast.

  Jammin leapt into the air and came down with both fists onto Haddron’s blocking forearms. The strike was heavy and strong, pushing Haddron to his knees.

  “I will lead us to revenge.” Jammin was proud to have Haddron kneeling in front of him. “Earth will learn not to cross us.”

  Haddron pushed up, unsuccessfully, under the greater strength of Jammin. “We aim for the same ends.”

  “Then cede leadership to me, Haddron. Look at you. You’ve already lost as it is.”

  “I haven’t lost.” Haddron lessened his resistance. “I’ve merely gained a new perspective and thus the tactical advantage.”

  “What?”

  Haddron dropped his arms and swiftly struck Jammin’s torso from both sides. The blur of his attacks was so fast Jammin didn’t even know he’d been struck until the fourth fist plunged itself into his stomach.

  Jammin stumbled backwards before dropping to his knees, gasping for air.

  Haddron rose to his feet. “I win because I saw what you did not. I did not rely on my strength only.” He walked around the wheezing Jammin. “I lead because I am more intelligent than you.”

  “Why stop there?” Elit drew his knife and tossed it to the floor.

  “Elit!” Naura yelled.

  Jammin scowled at the thinner Nordic’s meaning.

  Haddron leaned down to pick up the knife.

  “Haddron, you can’t,” Naura admonished.

  “Perhaps it is not a question of whether or not I can but whether or not I should.”

  “We should not be fighting amongst ourselves. There’s barely enough of us to pilot the Slagschip as it is.” Naura stepped cautiously toward Haddron.

  Haddron looked over the knife, turning it in his hand. It would be so easy. The others already fell in line. Jammin was the only one who still contested his leadership. The cut would be swift. No one would even notice before Jammin hit the floor.

  Naura grabbed the knife while Haddron was lost in thought.

  He looked at her and forced a smile. “Of course, Naura. As always, you act as the voice of reason.”

  Jammin finally stood. Kar’libon took one step forward, ready to jump in if need be.

  Jammin held up his hand. A sign that it was over. He looked up at Haddron, his expression still one of defiance. “You still hit like a woman. All speed, no strength.”

  Haddron only nodded. He had no intention of continuing their debate. The matter was closed. “Do you cede?”

  “As long as it still makes sense. You remain as leader, Haddron Lariscthyus.”

  “Very well.” Haddron dropped the knife. “Where is Sitasha? Kar’libon?” He turned to the Catter. “Did you not send for her as well?”

  “That traitor.” Jammin’s voice was full of venom. “Once she knew what we were planning, she went into hiding.”

  “Your release is all over the news. By now, all of Earth knows.” Naura was worried.

  “A minor annoyance. Nothing more. And nothing changes.” Haddron made his way to the door.

  “You don’t worry about her warning Mona Collins?” Elit asked as he picked up his knife from the floor.

  “My friends.” Haddron opened the door for them. “Surprise is on our side.” He unclipped the teleporter and held it up for all to see. “Every moment in time is ours to come and go as we please. Earth may set up as many guards and defenses around Mona Collins as they wish. It will not stop us. Now, let us succeed in phase three, together.”

  The other Nordics walked through the door with Kar’libon bringing up the rear.

  “My most loyal friend.” Haddron stopped the large Catter. “We will not come here again. You know what to do.”

  Kar’libon nodded and turned back in to the room.

  * * *

  On Haddron’s ship, the others took their seats in front of the Captain’s chair. Haddron remained standing. “We will make Earth fall in ways the Ka’traxis Brood never could.” He looked at his crew. “I thank each of you for staying loyal despite our differences in approach.” His eyes rested on Jammin.

  The communications transmitter in Haddron’s chair squawked. “It is done,” Kar’libon said.

  “Join us on the bridge, Kar’libon.” Haddron sat down in his chair. “Take us out, Naura. We will watch as the first strike is made.”

  * * *

  The docking tunnel from the space station unlocked from the ship and the two parted ways. The ship navigated carefully through the field of meteors until it finally made its way to empty space.

  Side thrusters turned the vessel around to face the space station.

  * * *

  Kar’libon stepped onto the bridge, a remote detonator in his hand.

  Haddron nodded to to his Ka’traxis Brood friend.

  The Catter raised the remote and pressed the single button on it.

  * * *

  The station exploded in a fireball. The blast sent pieces of metal and flaming debris in all directions while the shockwave blasted out meteors from their stationary places and sent them hurtling deep into space.

  * * *

  “Enter the coordinates for the Slagschip,” Haddron ordered. “Our revenge is nearly at hand.”

  “Coordinates entered,” Elit said, eager to move on to the next phase. “Ready when you are.”

  Haddron took one more look at the empty space where the space station had rested. There was nothing left of it. He hooked his teleporter to the metal strips and pressed the lens.

  “Three seconds to unrivaled power and my revenge,” Haddron muttered so quietly that only Kar’libon heard him.

  * * *

  The lens under the ship glowed and the same white flash as before enveloped it and lit up the nearby meteors.

  As the light disappeared, so did the ship.

  Six

  Multiple Hats

  “She can’t be serious.” Durham slumped back in his chair at the conference room table.

  “Let’s say we believe you.” Mona folded her arms across her chest. “This information would make you a traitor to Haddron. Why?”

  Sitasha looked down at the table, knowing the truth in Mona’s logic. “Haddron believes he was falsely accused.”

  “Falsely?” Syracuse scowled. “The Admiral was a witness. How was it false?”

  “I understand your doubts and your hesitation. Whether or not his imprisonment was justified is not a matter I can speak to. I was not there when he committed his alleged crime.”

  “You mean committed his crime,” Irons snarled.

  Sitasha tried to avoid any further anger from the humans surrounding her. “All I know is what he wanted to do after his release.” She calmly sat down, gently placing her hands on the table. “It is why I am here. It is why I am—” She turned to Mona. “—acting as a traitor. I do not agree with Haddron’s plans for revenge. I implored him to let it go during one of my visits with him. Sadly my words went unheeded.”

  “He’s not going to pull this off on his own, is he?” Lindsay asked.

  “He has followers. Those who were closest to him. Jammin, Naura, and Elit.”

  Lindsay leaned in. “Is there anything you can tell us about them?”

  “Jammin acts as an aggressor. He is strong but his temper gets the better of him.”

  “Might be able to work
that against him,” Syracuse noted to Irons.

  Sitasha’s eyes dropped to the table. She was sad that she was betraying her old crew, people she would like to still call friends. She pursed her lips together, resolving that it was the only course of action.

  “Jammin has always sought the role of leader. He thinks himself Haddron’s better and challenges Haddron often. No doubt, if they have already met, those two have quarreled.”

  “And this Jammin guy has never won a fight with Haddron?” Durham asked.

  “In my time with them, I have never seen Jammin get the best of him.”

  Syracuse looked at Irons who stood only listening. “He’ll be the weak link.”

  “Naura is rational minded, but manipulative. She’s fiercely loyal to Haddron and his cause. Though she may be more loyal to the cause than to the man. I’ve seen enough to suggest as much.”

  “Her training?” Lindsay asked.

  “Less obvious but formidable.”

  Lindsay only nodded. Already her mind was playing out possible scenarios with the unknown foes. A kick to an imaginary enemy. A block from a nonexistent punch. It was difficult to form a strategy based solely on Sitasha’s words.

  “And finally there is Elit.” Sitasha paused and narrowed her eyes as she looked for the right description. “Deadly. Unpredictable. He is ferocious in his attacks. I have seen him make quick kills and I have seen him play with his victims, torturing them until—“

  “Grade A nut job.” Irons glared at Sitasha. “We get it. I ain’t interested in the muscle, the good dog or the psycho. Haddron’s been in jail long enough. I wanna know what he can do.”

  “Don’t we already?” Durham asked.

  “We know what he could do before he was locked up.” Syracuse cracked his knuckles one by one. “But prison gives a man nothing more than time. Time to hone skills. If he went in dangerous—”

  “Which he most certainly did.” Mona shuddered.

  “Then he came out even more so,” Irons finished Syracuse’s thought.

  “I cannot attest to his level of skill, now. Only his thoughts and his plan,” Sitasha said.