The First Covenant (Dark Universe Series Book 2)

by Alex Sheppard

  “Rami, where are you?” Fenny asked.

  “My room. Any updates?”

  “Well, we’re back in the SLH. Heading to Bucifer P9 to meet Mifek. And . . . your father is on the ship talking to the captain.” Fenny clearly didn’t know that Ramya already knew.

  “And?”

  “And . . . according to Ross, it’s not going well. Apparently, he laughed at the captain. Said a second invasion is simply not true, that it’s horseshit. His words, Rami.”

  So much for risking everything. Trysten Kiroff was just here to get his Stryker back. Perhaps Gael had known that. He definitely knew the captain would fall for this chance to forge an alliance. Ramya’s fists curled. The dog!

  “Hey, Rami,” Fenny’s voice cut through the furious thoughts. “Before the captain left, he asked you to stay put. Wherever you are, stay put.”

  “Will do,” Ramya replied, eager to end the conversation. Tiredness caught up suddenly, swooping over her with the weight of a mountain.

  “I’ll try to swing by your room,” Fenny offered in a goodhearted way, but Ramya’s mind had already drifted. Barely noticing when the comm clicked off, Ramya fell back into her lumpy cold bed and curled into a cocoon.

  21

  RAMYA SAT up at the sharp rap on her door. She didn’t remember when she had drifted into sleep. For a moment or two she couldn’t recall where she was, but then memories trickled in.

  The fight with the mercenaries . . . the meeting with her father at Posci . . . Fenny’s instruction to stay put. Fenny! That must be Fenny knocking, Ramya thought. Didn’t she promise to stop by?

  Ramya took a second to collect her thoughts before she pulled the door open. She could not have expected the person on the other side in her wildest dreams. Her father, the indomitable Trysten Kiroff, stood with his arms crossed, his face carved in stone. Behind him were four buff guards in Kiroff colors, armored and armed as if they were walking into a war zone.

  Before Ramya could utter a word, her father stepped into the room, making a path for himself as he edged past her. If Trysten Kiroff wanted to be somewhere, there was no stopping him. So she had heard since childhood. This is how it is done, Ramya mused. A few nervous jitters raised their heads at the pit of her stomach but Ramya crushed them with a strong hand. Closing the grunting door behind her, she observed her father. He stood, stiff and resolute, scanning the barren room, his nose crinkled with disdain.

  “This is where you live,” he said finally, his tone as icy as it was full of scorn. He pointed contemptuously at the sparse furnishings. “This . . . you prefer this over Somenvaar. Really?”

  “I do,” Ramya replied, keeping her answer as short and as pointed as she could. There was no winning a winded conversation with her father so she was not getting into a conversation at all.

  His eyes narrowed to slits. He had possibly caught on to her plan already.

  “Where did I go wrong with you?” he said, spitting out the words like blaster fire.

  Every word stung and burned and ate into her heart, but she wasn’t going to let him shame her into submission. She had done nothing wrong. She had a right to live her life. She had found a purpose, happiness. Ramya was not going to let Trysten Kiroff snatch it away from her. Biting the inside of her cheek, Ramya willed herself to stay quiet. But her father was not going to let her.

  “You’re a Kiroff,” he snarled. “How can you put yourself among a bunch of nobodies? Where’s your pride?”

  Captain Milos and his crew weren’t nobodies. They were the only ones smart enough to understand the Locustan threat. It was an honor to be on the Endeavor, and serving Captain Milos made her prouder than she’d ever been before. Her father couldn’t understand that, and she wasn’t even going to try and make him understand. He could hold on to his misplaced beliefs for all she cared.

  “What’s this?” her father asked suddenly in a voice that had suddenly lost its bite. He was looking at something behind her. A frown still remained, but barely. Instead, a look of surprise had taken hold. He walked—no, glided over like someone in a trance—to the cabinet that flanked the door. He looked into the paper bowl on top that held the stone Temihula had given her. “Is this Drigganstone?”

  The hint of a tremble in his voice and his gaping eyes surprised Ramya. Her father was the last person to wear his emotions on his sleeve, and seeing such childish wonderment on his face was almost unreal. With much difficulty, Ramya tore her eyes off her father and squinted at the Drigganstone. Ahool had said it was rare and used by the Mwandan government to make weapons, but to have enthralled her cold and impassive father as much, the Drigganstone had to be quite out of the ordinary.

  “Yes, it is,” Ramya replied simply.

  He spun around to look at her incredulously. “Where did you get it? Who gave you a Drigganstone?” he said, words gushing out of him at a furious pace. This was odd behavior, no doubt.

  Ramya shrugged. “I got it on Morris II. It’s a Mwandan sanctuary where—”

  He cut her off. “I know what Morris II is. How did you get that stone?”

  Ramya took a breath. “Temihula gave it to me. Guess you already know who Temihula is.” She couldn’t help the jab at the end even though it was as good as asking for a snub.

  Her father scoffed. “Temihula? He gave you that?” His brows rose as if she had just told him the most fantastic thing ever. If she had told him a fairy had arrived on a unicorn and presented her with the stone it would be far more believable.

  Anger glowered around the edges of Ramya’s head. Her fists curled. Just like always, her father couldn’t imagine she could be capable enough.

  “Yes, he did. After I defeated him in a duel, he presented me with that.” Ramya stopped. The anger inside of her grew on seeing the disbelieving look on his face. “Since you find it hard to believe my account, I could line up a few witnesses for you. Ross was there, as was Chief Dal and quite a few of his men. Ask them if you like.”

  Her father waved at her distractedly and turned back to the stone. “That’s not needed.” He gazed at the stone almost lovingly. “This is truly exceptional. The granules are so dense. I’ve never seen such an excellent specimen before.”

  Ramya stepped to his side. “You mean you’ve seen Drigganstones before?” She regretted saying that right away. Of course he had seen Drigganstones. Was there anything Trysten Kiroff didn’t see or know of? How stupid did she have to be to expose her naivety and invite her father’s ridicule?

  “Yes, we’ve experimented with a few,” her father replied. Odd that there was no mockery in his voice. “The Mwandan government uses these stones in their explosives. They’re said to cut through force fields. We did a few experiments, but these stones are hard to find.”

  Something he said stirred a question she had long overlooked . . . about the Mwandan projectiles that had cut through the Stryker’s shield on Morris II. If Drigganstone weapons were known to cut through force fields, could that have been why the Mwandan offensive damaged the Stryker’s wing even when its shield was up?

  Before Ramya got a chance to complete her chain of thoughts, her father was back to being his usual stony self. “So, what is your grand plan?” He fixed a mirthless stare on her face. “Haven’t thought it through, I presume,” he said, a jeering smile twisting his lips. His questions were erratic, talking about Drigganstone in one moment and her future in another.

  “You’re wrong,” Ramya retorted. “I have a plan. But why do you need to know my plans anyway? You don’t need me. Why can’t you just let me be?”

  He drew a long, unnecessarily long breath . “House Kiroff needs you.”

  “House Kiroff has you.”

  “I won’t live forever.”

  That sounded too mushy, too unlike Trysten Kiroff. All part of a game, Ramya was sure.

  “You’ll live long enough. By then Ryon will have grown up.”

  “You’re the heir. Ryon is not.”

  If she were gone for long enough, she’
d lose the claim as an heir—galactic laws were clear on that. Ryon, her much younger brother, would be the next in line. It was that simple. Why was her father making it sound like it wasn’t?

  “The galactic laws are—”

  “This is not up for debate,” her father cut her off icily. “You are the only heir of House Kiroff. You have a blood oath to the house to serve when time comes. You’re not free to walk away from it.”

  She knew that. Every firstborn had a blood oath to serve the house they were born into. But her brother Ryon could take her place if her claim was lost. Unless her father died before Ryon turned fifteen, but that wasn’t likely.

  Before Ramya could say another word, her comm crackled. Fenny’s voice drifted out when Ramya accepted the incoming.

  “Rami, the captain wants you at the hold right away,” she said.

  Her voice was rushed and Ramya couldn’t contain her curiosity. “What’s going on?”

  “It’s Chief Mifek. He sent an urgent message,” Fenny explained. “I gotta go, Rami. Need to locate that bad-tempered father of yours.”

  Ramya held her breath at Fenny’s snide reference. Her father inhaled sharply, a violent flush swirling into his face.

  “Fenny, he’s right here,” Ramya blurted. “With me.”

  A moment of silence. Then Fenny’s unabashed voice trickled out. “Oh. Bring him along as well, will ya?”

  The comm cut off with a sharp click and Ramya had a feeling Fenny was too eager to jump off. Ramya was eager as well. She needed Trysten Kiroff out of her room and out of this senseless, frustrating conversation.

  “That was our navigator, Fenny,” she said, tucking her M-gun into the leg-mounted holster. He was watching every movement intently, but Ramya ignored him. “The captain needs us at the cargo hold.”

  “What are you waiting for? Lead the way,” he snapped.

  Not a polite bone in his body, Ramya mused. Suppressing a sigh, she walked out of the room, her father following. The buff bodyguards followed them all the way to the cargo hold. Her father asked them to wait outside, thankfully without Ramya having to ask him. She didn’t want to spend time in meaningless bickering, especially when the universe was falling apart so fast.

  22

  MERIN, the Uminato, stood in front of the projection screen with her eyes closed, trying to set up the communication channel. The captain, Ross, and Lefrasi, along with eight of his Mwandan lieutenants, stood behind her. They were looking intently at the screen when Ramya and her father walked into the hold. Captain Milos nodded curtly.

  “Two hours to Bucifer P9, Captain,” Wiz’s voice came over the captain’s communicator. “Should we hold course?”

  “Yes,” Captain Milos replied. “Fenny, keep scanning the system. All the neighboring planets. We’re waiting for Chief Mifek to come online.”

  Ramya inhaled deep to counter the rising chill inside her. Just a few hours ago they had an update from Mifek. All had been well on Bucifer then. What was the sudden urgency?

  Captain Milos walked over to Ramya and her father. “You should get back to your ship, Trysten,” the captain said, and her father frowned in response.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because, as you’ve said many times already, this is not your fight,” the captain said. Ramya noted how Captain Milos kept his voice low, as if to provide a shield of privacy to her father. “You should get away while you still can.”

  Her father crossed his arms and gave the captain an icy look. “I can’t just walk out empty-handed. You have my Stryker. You have the heir to my house. Give them back and I’ll go.”

  A long forgotten rage leaped to life inside Ramya. He talked about her as if she was another object he owned. Would it have hurt to show her a tiny bit of respect? But that was too much to expect. Some things could never change.

  The captain sighed. “I don’t think you realize the problem here. Our galaxy is about to be made extinct. Someone needs to save it. Or at least try. I’m going to try. I’d hoped you’d join, but I see you’re not interested.” He paused a second to breathe and rubbed his bandaged forehead. Ramya squinted at the captain’s face. He didn’t look sick and Sosa hadn’t raised hue and cry over his health lately, but Captain Milos had been bothered by the injury. “The Stryker can help us figure out the Locustan plan. So, I need it. We also need your daughter since she’s the one the Stryker has sworn to serve. But you don’t need to risk your life or waste your time here.”

  Ramya sniggered inside. In other words, you’re non-essential, Lord Paramount Kiroff. Her father’s lips twisted and eyes took on a glacial veneer. He had clearly picked the captain’s intent.

  “I will leave when I decide to leave,” he said.

  No one spoke for a moment or two, and anyone who paid the slightest attention could pick up the unmistakable chill in the air. Thankfully, Ross stepped near and cleared his throat.

  “Captain,” he called, nodding in the direction of the screen.

  A grainy picture of Chief Mifek had formed on the screen. Mifek was also an Uminato and of a rich coloring. His skin was a deep, shiny brown and the stripes on his neck dark as a starless night. But today, he was as pale as pale could be. If someone met him for the first time, it would be difficult for them to imagine the real Mifek.

  His sudden and utter paleness was alarming. If Ramya could take a wild guess, it was because Mifek was scared. Scattered behind him were other Mwandans, both male and female, all with equally dull eyes.

  “Chief Mifek,” Captain Milos walked closer to the screen. “You summoned?”

  “Yes, I did,” Mifek whispered. “We’re under siege, Captain.”

  “Siege?” Captain Milos sounded just as incredulous as everyone else in the room felt. “By whom? The Confederacy?”

  Mifek shook his head. “No, Captain. It’s them.” He threw a quick nervous glance over his shoulder. “They’re here, Captain Milos. They’ve taken people.” He blinked rapidly, and Ramya could’ve sworn he paled even more as he spoke. “They’ve taken our settlements. I’ll show you.”

  As Mifek led them through dense, dark shrubbery, the captain tapped Ross on the shoulder. “You have the recorders on?” he asked.

  Ross nodded. “Yes, Captain. Always.”

  About after twenty paces through the shrubbery, Mifek slowed. Carefully he parted the foliage in front of him and gestured at a gully beyond. Ramya stepped forward and squinted. Mifek was showing them a small settlement with about ten houses. They were shaped like upside-down saucers, all painted white.

  It wasn’t the houses that were important, but the people who were walking about around them. Ramya gulped before running her tongue over her dry lips. Those people . . . they weren’t the kind Ramya was used to seeing. It was a race she had only seen pictures of and studied in illustrations. They had been part of her nightmares for years, and every person in the galaxy near her age would say the same. She was looking at Locustans, alive and walking on Bucifer P9.

  Ramya fell back a step and breathed with all her might. Her childhood nightmares had turned real. She wished them away, but they didn’t vanish. They lingered, terrifying abominations on the giant screen.

  Simply described, they were insects. They were tall, towering insects with two huge, powerful wings and muscular, clawed legs. Two bulbous eyes implied excellent vision, which in turn made them superior hunters. Mifek didn’t have to tell them who was in charge of that settlement on Bucifer, as it was clear from the way the Locustans patrolled the buildings.

  “They dropped from the skies in the morning, Captain,” Mifek said, the tremor in his voice unmistakable. “Then they took over my settlement and captured the entire population. I was out patrolling the northern ridge when the ambush happened.”

  Ramya shuddered. Captured the entire population . . . that meant they were growing even more Locustan soldiers. She recalled the terrifying sentence from her history book—they only had to pump their DNA in and the host would metamorphose into a Lo
custan within days.

  “Do you have anyone left to fight back?”

  “It’s me and eighteen of my morning patrol. But fight those things?” Mifek gave a dry chuckle and walked away from the viewing point. “We don’t have weapons strong enough to pierce their exoskeleton.”

  Was Bucifer P9 as good as lost then? What about the Mwandan government? One of their weapons had torn through the Stryker’s defense shield on Morris II. They had to have something similar on Bucifer P9.

  “Doesn’t the government have better weapons?” Ramya said desperately, ignoring her place in the conversation.

  Mifek shook his head in a hopeless sort of way. “They definitely do, but I don’t have the means to contact them. These pests have destroyed our radio installation and the nearest squad outpost is a long way from here. We didn’t take our rambler out for our morning patrol so all we can do now is walk.”

  Ramya’s shoulders sagged. The chief’s chances of surviving this didn’t seem very high. Chief Mifek knew that also. No wonder he had lost his coloring. She stole a quick look at her father. He was staring stony-faced at the screen, not a trace of emotion evident in his stiff posture.

  “What’s your battle plan, Chief?” Captain Milos asked.

  “Start walking to the outpost. Get the word to the government. But I don’t have high hopes.”

  “We’ll get there soon, Chief. We’ll get you out of there.”

  “Forget about us, Captain,” Mifek said. “This area is infested by these things. You can’t help us anymore. But you can help the rest of the galaxy. Save them. If you can.”

  The blurriness of the image grew some more. The projection was withering away.

  “Wait, Chief,” Captain Milos shouted. “Find a safe spot and evade them for a couple of hours. We’ll get you out of there.”

  Mifek’s gray face filled the screen. “There’s a shelter . . . a cave at Yobeta Point. We’ll hide there as long as we can. If you see the top blown, don’t risk coming any closer, Captain.”

  His face faded but his last words lingered like a bad dream. No one moved; it almost seemed like no one even breathed. The captain slapped his comm on. “Azzi, how much longer to Bucifer P9?”