There was a long pause. “I am on my way down.”
Chapter 6
A female, Verrikoth kept repeating to himself as he raced through the corridors of Nemesis. His two bodyguards ran two steps behind him and were barely able to keep pace. He barely noticed their presence. They arrived at the starboard hangar at a dead run, arriving just as a tech finished the preflight checks on one of Nemesis’s two transport pods. The pods were smaller than the assault shuttles, could only carry up to four people (including the pilot) and were capable of atmospheric flight.
Verrikoth left it to one of the others to pilot the pod down to the surface, far too hyped up to run the controls himself. A female, his thoughts were ringing. That old longing was welling up in his thorax, that feeling of needing to belong, to be part of a home, a colony. Following close behind that longing was the old bitterness, the agony of the rejection from the other brood mothers in Argos.
But the bitterness was drowned by that longing and a strange, unfamiliar sense of protectiveness, one he’d never felt before. In any other circumstances, Verrikoth might have assumed he was drugged to feel this way.
An eternity passed until the pod finally touched down. Guided by Vok over the comms, Verrikoth found his way through the command center to the elevator and descended to the underground levels. His two guards raced along beside him. He followed the War Leader’s directions which eventually lead to a cluster of his zheen soldiers, all standing around, dazed. They all gave off a vibe of being drunk or being otherwise severely intoxicated.
One of the Secaarans, Cromm, stepped out from the group of zheen to block his way. “Need to wait for War Leader Vok, my Lord,” he said, one hand up, palm out.
“Out of the way, Cromm,” Verrikoth told him, his hand straying to the 10mm pistol holstered at his hip.
But the rock-skinned man refused to budge, though he did flinch a bit under the heat of Verrikoth’s anger. “War Leader Vok ordered me to have you wait for him. He says it’s dangerous in there.” The Secaaran pointed to the nearby squad of zheen, who to a bug, looked drunk. They were ambling around, confused. A human soldier kept the docile zheen corralled, and he gave a salute to the Warlord when Verrikoth turned his way.
Verrikoth nodded, fuming, his antennae swirling in irritation. He activated his wrist comm. “Vok, where are you? One of the Ssecaaranz won’t let me through on your order. I am very closse to sshooting him.” Cromm flinched again.
“Yes, Warlord,” Vok’s voice came back. “The mix of pheromones is extremely potent. Without a breather, you would be rendered docile and all but inert almost immediately.”
Verrikoth froze. Zheen females, the Xai’ryn, did have potent pheromones, but not like this. Yes, it had been years, decades for some since their last proper sexual encounter with a queen (if ever) but they shouldn’t be affected so quickly. And while he more than any of his fellows desired the companionship of a Xai’ryn, he had no desire at all to become a walking shell; his mental faculties were stripped away.
“Where are you, Vok?” Verrikoth demanded, forcing calm into his voice.
“In the lab, my Lord. The Xai’ryn is here but is in quite a distress. The drugs the humans were using to keep her pacified have worn off.” Verrikoth could hear high-pitched wails of agony combined with subsonics, which displayed her displeasure in the background. “She is quite worked up.”
“RELEASE ME!!!” the Xai’ryn shrieked, with rage that could shake metal. Verrikoth couldn’t help but wince at her fury. Even Cromm was affected. They both could clearly hear her from down the corridor with their own auditory senses; the open comm channel only amplified its intensity.
“I need a massk,” Verrikoth said harshly, cursing his own reckless haste.
A pause. Another shriek. “I cannot seem to calm her. I will bring you mine, my Lord.”
Three minutes later, Vok came trotting down the long corridor, right up to where Verrikoth was standing. He stopped and gave a salute, tapping his fist twice on his thorax. Verrikoth only nodded back.
“Report.”
“It’s a mess, my Lord,” Vok said simply. “Thirty-four males in armorglass cells, twenty-one of whom are bedridden and cannot rise. The rest are very weak. We need medics or doctors for them.”
Verrikoth buzzed noncommittally. He gestured for Vok to continue. The War Leader removed the breather from his throat and handed it to his Lord, who accepted it.
“The Xai’ryn is, as I said my Lord, quite distressed. She had been shackled in a central cell, with metal bands around her lower segment, pinning her to the floor. Metal cages are welded over her egg sacks. She got a nutrient frame around her torso and two other… devices implanted in her back. She also has a large fluid sack on her back.”
Verrikoth raised a hand, cutting off the recitation. “Undersstood, sshe needz help. Round up az many non-zheen to come into the lab to releasse the Xai’ryn az well az many of the malez that can sstill walk.”
“Right away, my Lord. But I feel I must point out; all non-zheen tend to have… extreme reactions upon seeing a Xai’ryn. They may balk.”
Verrikoth gave a deep-thoraxed growl, one so powerful that even the mountain Cromm took a startled step back. “Sshoot the firsst two who do,” the Warlord hissed, eliciting a smile from the Secaaran. “They will obey orderz and like it. Sshoot two more if anyone delayz.”
Vok nodded, limbering up his combine. “Yes, my Lord.”
“Move.” Verrikoth hustled down the corridor toward the lab, alone this time, but a second later he heard Cromm’s huge feet clomping on the floor behind, as he ran to catch up.
((--[][]--))
Upon arrival in the lab, Verrikoth saw that it was just as Vok described: a mess. Along the back wall and to the right there were rows of armorglass cells, nearly all of them filled with a male zheen occupant. All of the zheen inside looked sick and weak, their normally violet and mauve-colored carapaces were duller, grayer. What few were moving around seemed to perk up a bit upon seeing Verrikoth, but they drooped again once they saw he wasn’t freeing them. All of them were malnourished and dying, perhaps a third of them might be saved.
Verrikoth moved toward the back of the chamber, where he could see the Xai’ryn chained to the floor. She was continuing to struggle against her bonds to no success. The frustration in her voice and her body language was evident. The female of the zheen species was breathtaking in appearance as far as Verrikoth was concerned. Xai’ryn were dual-segmented creatures, the upper of which was armored with carapace, in this case, she had reddish-violet hue to her exterior. Her head was similar in shape to a male zheen’s: two large compound eyes, two antennae, ridged mandibles and a number of flexible mouthparts.
From there the similarities ended. She had four long, bony, quad-jointed appendages that ended in a long claw that protruded from her back, that would be used for grabbing and manipulating objects. They could also be used to fight, though if it ever came to the point where a Xai’ryn needed to personally defend herself, the situation was truly desperate.
Her lower segment was large and bulbous, two meters tall and three long and normally would be coated in the more red-violet carapace, but it seemed the humans had taken another cruel step in experimentation on the female. They had surgically removed the carapace and replaced it with a loose-knit titanium mesh, leaving plenty of room for large needles as well as devices for implantation into her flesh. The lower segment was also a large egg sac, capable of carrying several hundred eggs. The Xai’ryn also had three metallic devices implanted into her back, with lights that blinked in some sort of prescribed pattern, one Verrikoth couldn’t identify.
“Oh, great Xai’ryn, what did they do to you?” he asked softly.
She ceased her struggles and turned her head to face him. Her antennae waggled in confusion, and she tilted her head from one side to the other. “And who are you?” she demanded, her voice still loud, but with considerably fewer decibels from before. The ground didn’t shake when she spok
e this time.
He bowed, but he refused to abase himself before anyone, even a brood mother. “I am Warlord Verrikoth. My forcez have ssecured this facility, and we will be leaving here ssoon, and if you would allow it, with you with uss.”
She eyed him for a long moment, her antennae never ceasing their whirls. “Warlord?” she said again as if tasting the word for the first time.
“Yess. I control a fleet of sshipss, and twelve worldz are under my influence.” He made it a statement, not a boast.
“I would very much like to see that. Warlord,” she added, as though it was an afterthought. Then she visibly flinched as a new spasm of pain hit her. “To answer your earlier question, the humans have been experimenting on me.” Her voice was low and mournful. “For many years.”
“How many yearz, Xai’ryn?” Verrikoth asked, watching as she continued to take him in under her gaze.
“It no longer matters,” she said, humming a bit in despair.
It was Verrikoth’s turn to flinch. “Most of the humanz here are dead, only a few ssurvived, including the lab techss, az I thought it prudent to keep them alive sso they could help you.”
“Help me!” she raged, straining against her chains on her limbs again. “Help me?!” She had a moment of anger, but then it subsided. “The humans were cruel and they were meticulous. They attached their metal and they cut away my shell and they grafted on new parts.” She hissed, long and loud. “They also took great pleasure in explaining how they were growing additional nerve tendrils to snake into all these additions so I wouldn’t be tempted to rip them out. They are a part of me now.”
Verrikoth walked around her, surveying her body. On the dorsal side of her lower segment, just below the spine were dozens of fleshy glands attached to the meat beneath. He noted the large fluid sac with was connected to the mesh in a plastic cage. Verrikoth could see the nerve tendrils coiled into the sac as well as the glands, and aside from the obvious artificial mesh and cage, all of it could have been natural growths.
“I will have doctorz and sscientisstss look into thiss, with your permission,” Verrikoth demurred. “I wish to ssee you well again, Xai’ryn.”
Her outraged demeanor softened for just an instant, but then her walls crashed back into place. “I would settle for being freed.”
The warlord nodded. “Of course.” He turned just as four techs arrived, three humans and a zheen wearing a breather on his throat, the same as Verrikoth was. They cautiously approached her, but the Xai’ryn did not rage at them or prevent their actions in any way. “Get her out of there. And you will all take great care not to injure her,” he informed them. “Or you will regret it.”
The Xai’ryn hissed her agreement, making the techs cower back for an instant before both of them snapped at them to get on with it.
((--[][]--))
A day later, the teams were all back aboard Nemesis and Kopesh. A small amount of supplies was brought up to supplement their own stores, and several data cores were taken to the cruiser for later study.
The Xai’ryn was shuttled up to the heavy cruiser and with some help from the engineering teams, was made comfortable in a large space in the trooper barracks. For the time being, the nutrient frame needed to stay with the great female, so it was brought up as well. Apparently, the new grafts required regular nourishment, and if it wasn’t received, within a few short hours, the grafts and the new organs began to decay and fail, sending burning, excruciating agony through her new nerve clusters. No one was happy with the living arrangements, especially the displaced soldiers, but she absolutely refused to take up residence in a cargo bay. A separate air filtration system had to be rigged for the barracks, to keep her dangerous pheromones contained and filtered out. The last thing the warship needed was for the crew to zone out during operations.
Those affected by the Xai’ryn’s presence recovered within a few hours, though several were complaining of aches and pains, as though hungover. None, however, were complaining about the actual effects. No pharmaceuticals so far invented could match the high generated by the Xai’ryn. Discipline wise, most understood the seriousness of the encounter, but all affected found it difficult to care.
Additional life support units and crates of foodstuffs were confiscated and shuttled up from the base.
The Xai’ryn only commented on the austerity of the ship and the commonplace manner of the crew, the rations and her situation a total of one time. Verrikoth had a short conversation with her, explaining that they’d had no indication of her existence upon their arrival here in this system. He also explained that this was the only ship of the two that could carry her majestic form so her only other option if she didn't like Nemesis, was to go back down to the planet and wait for pickup. She gave him a haughty, silent glare but then nodded. The complaints ceased. Verrikoth was pleased with the small victory, but he was well aware that there would be more to come in the future.
“We are ready to depart, my Lord,” Jensen Tyler reported an hour later. “Supplies are aboard and what few prisoners we took are locked down in the brig. The lone Sparhawk is secured as is the gunboat. Awaiting your order to depart.”
“Excellent, Commander,” Verrikoth replied. “All sshipss, sset coursse for the hyper limit.”
The two warships broke orbit, the now abandoned facility silent on the planet below.
((--[][]--))
Amethyst was bustling by the time Nemesis, and her escort arrived. Gawilghur and her escorts were here; the light cruiser had EVA suited crewmen working on external repairs. Apparently, the trip to the other pirate base had brought some damage to the larger ship. Several freighters were in the system; all docked with the space station. Two were showing beacon IDs of Ulla-tran, which pleased Verrikoth greatly. Outside trade, especially from ships of a star system not under his control or influence was all to the good. If Amethyst continued hosting these, as well as other out-system traders, word of mouth, at the very least, would hopefully encourage other ships and traders to come here. The two freighters were small vessels, meant for low volume cargoes, but that was fine. Anything come from other systems for trade was all to the good.
Fletcher’s Dolly was back as well, in tandem with a box freighter that was not identified in Nemesis’s databanks, as well as a small warship, a corvette. Tyler was frowning at his display. “My Lord, Fletcher’s Dolly has returned, but we’re showing no sign of Ironhide.”
Verrikoth hissed. “That cannot bode well. Commander Sskygexx is loyal and capable. Thiss sshould have been a honey run.” He buzzed to himself as he turned to the display showing the nearby station. “Commz, hail Fletcher’z Dolly.”
It took less than a minute for freighter’s captain to respond. The man, Keseres, straightened in his seat as the display went active. “My Lord, Verrikoth. Welcome back.”
The Warlord chittered. “What do you have to report?”
“Partial success, my Lord.” Before the Warlord could respond, he rushed on. “Over fifty Centurion-A starfighters were secured. We also managed to get a pile of spare parts to go with them. Commander Sokann also managed to get several pilots to fly those ships. In addition, my Lord, Commander Skygexx eliminated two enemy destroyers and managed to capture the box freighter and the corvette currently docked at the station.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder.
Verrikoth’s antennae twitched. “Thiss ssoundz like a massive ssuccess. Why do you call it only a partial? And where iz Ironhide?”
The man’s face dropped. Then he straightened. “Ironhide was destroyed in battle to Republic warships, my Lord.”
Verrikoth shot out of his seat. “What?! Republic warshipss?”
The man gulped, but he held his ground. “Yes, my Lord. A sizeable flotilla invaded the Hecate Star System just as we were leaving. The timing was good for us and considering Ironhide’s condition at the time; we had no chance.”
Verrikoth found himself dumbfounded. It’s too soon! I’m not nearly ready for a Republic incursion. Why is Ta
ndred sending ships now? “What ships?” he asked instead. “You ssaid a ssizeable flotilla. Waz it headed by a battleship?”
But Keseres shook his head. “No, my Lord. Nothing like that. A couple of destroyers, frigates and maybe eight or ten corvettes. But they had a fighter carrier that brought almost four squadrons of starfighters.” He hung his head. “They tore up the Hecate defense ships and squadrons and then trashed the shipyards.”
The zheen Warlord just stood stock still for several long seconds. “I ssee. And what happened with Ironhide?”
Keseres straightened, not looking at his Lord, but at a point on the bulkhead behind Verrikoth. “Commander Skygexx held rear guard when we moved to escape the battle. Ironhide had already sustained heavy damage in the previous battles and had undergone emergency repairs. A group of ships moved to stop us, and Commander Skygexx ordered us on while he reversed course and engaged them. As we left sensor range, Ironhide was dead in space and being fired on by the enemy frigate.”
Verrikoth sighed, sinking back into his command seat. “I ssee. And iz Commander Ssokann there with you?”
The man shook his head. “No, my Lord. He went over to the station two hours ago with the crop of new pilots. They were getting stir crazy aboard the Dolly, so they all went over there.”
“Well, that iz ssomething.” He considered this for a long moment, tapping his blunt fingers against the arm of the command seat. Skygexx’s loss, along with his ship, was a blow. Verrikoth didn’t have enough warships, trained crews or veteran commanders that he could afford to lose any in skirmishes with pirates or against Republic task forces.
“Very well. Again, well done. We will sstop here for two dayz to ressupply and allow the crewz a sshort liberty here on the sstation. After that, we will move on to Tysseuss. I expect my lead pilot to be ready to move.”
The Warlord's Path Page 15
