Claimed By The Warrior

by Roxie Ray

  I tried to banish these thoughts from my brain. Ridiculous. I wasn't Hakkas, and Hakkas wasn't me. I was simply an undercover agent, a man wearing a false face, nothing more.

  Still, those urges – wherever they were coming from, they were very, very real.

  Suddenly, the transmitter found its receiver and a more welcome voice filled my inner ear.

  “Surge,” Dhimurs said. “What have you learned?”

  I gave him the information Paige had written down about the dead inmates and their birthdates. “But I still have no idea what it's all supposed to mean, or how it fits together.”

  Dhimurs thought it over for a moment. “I'll admit, it's still a mystery to me as well. Then again, I was never much for star charts, except as navigational tools. We can make some inquiries through our contacts on Yuluna and see if any of this makes sense to them. Maybe we can also acquire a list of the specific planetary bodies Karaak has terraformed, to determine whether there's any perceptible connection between their placement and any myths or rituals that would connect to the birth dates of the deceased.”

  “It sounds like for the most part, you'll be clutching at straws,” I observed testily.

  Dhimurs picked up on my tone. “Surge, we'll get you out of there as soon as we can. Is there something you're not telling me? Are you in some kind of imminent danger?”

  “I'm undercover in a maximum-security prison,” I hissed. “Half of these people want to kill me because I'm the leader of the Sives and it would buy them instant cred with their fellow scumbags. The other half want to kill me because the real Hakkas screwed them over in some way. Yes, I'd say I'm in fairly imminent danger from the time I wake until the time I sleep.”

  “I wasn't talking about physical danger,” he pressed on. “You've been dropped into hostile areas filled with enemy combatants hundreds of times before and landed on your feet every time. I know you're not scared of that rabble you're locked up with. No, there's something else, isn't there? Something you're not telling me.”

  I responded with a stony silence.

  “It's that Paige woman, isn't it?” he guessed. “You seemed oddly fixated on her the last time we spoke.”

  “Of course I'm fixated on her. She's my contact. She's where my primary focus is supposed to be.”

  “Do you think me a fool?” Dhimurs pressed. “After all these years of serving together, you think I need my psychic abilities to tell when you're lying to me? It's clear that she's more to you than just a contact. You've developed feelings for her, despite knowing her for only a couple of days – haven’t you?”

  “If you already think you know the answers, why bother asking the damn questions?”

  I could feel the anger rising inside of me, and this time, I didn't care whether it belonged to me or Hakkas.

  “I ask because I am concerned for you,” Dhimurs answered.

  “Well, you don't need to be. I shall carry out my orders as I always do, and win yet another victory in the name of Valkred.” It was impossible to mask my snide tone.

  He sighed heavily. “Surge. Listen to me. In all the years we've worked together, I've never known you to develop feelings for women you've encountered during assignments... and I know there have been plenty of temptations,” he added. “The way you're acting with regard to Paige tells me there might be something more to this. Something worth examining. Perhaps you feel she is your fated mate?”

  “Absolutely not,” I said hotly, not willing to verbalize my own suspicions. “She is an asset, nothing more.”

  “These things have been known to happen, my friend. Akzun. Zark. Even me, for that matter. You can try to fight your instincts, but in the end, they will win. They always do. Better to give yourself over to them as much as you are able, under the circumstances. See where they take you, instead of tearing yourself apart over them.”

  “And what do you know of my 'circumstances?'” I challenged. “You are a soldier, not a spy. Since when is it any of your business how I carry out my assignments? Until now, you've always been content to leave me to my own devices, and then pat me on the head when I managed to come back successful, no questions asked. Yet now you call me your friend? I am your weapon, Dhimurs. Nothing more.”

  After a long pause, Dhimurs replied, “I am sorry to hear that you feel this way, Surge. I have always considered you a friend, not just a tool of war and death. It is unfortunate to hear that you do not feel the same. Perhaps we should let the matter rest for now. Transmit the list of contraband you need us to provide for you, and we'll arrange for it to be smuggled in with the next shipment of medical supplies, which will arrive tomorrow.”

  “Good.” I sent the list of items I had promised the Sives – drugs, alcohol, weapons, transmitters, holographic games and smut, all to be sold to the rest of the prisoners at exorbitant prices. At this rate, all the Sives I'd spent so much time hunting and apprehending would be able to rebuild their criminal empire from inside these very walls.

  One more reason for me to finish this mission as swiftly as possible.

  “Do you still have the miniaturized cloak we gave you?” he asked.

  I rolled my eyes and prepared to give a sarcastic answer – perhaps something to the effect that I'd left it on by accident and couldn't find it now – when I sensed someone standing in front of my cell. Whoever it was, they were radiating a cold, throbbing, malevolent energy that was powerful enough to be nauseating.

  I cut the transmission immediately, guessing the identity of my visitor even before I turned around.

  Karaak.

  I'd seen Lunians before, but none like him. Most of them glowed with a white inner light that was oddly tranquil and soothing, like the shining of the stars themselves.

  Not him.

  The renegade Lunian was tall and bald like many of the other members of his race, but that was where the similarities ended. He wore jet black robes, and his skin was seething with dark energy, making him seem like a walking black hole singularity. His eyes shone with a sickly yellow glare that was almost instantly headache-inducing. His teeth were filed into points sharper than spears, and the nails on his hands were long and clawlike.

  “You should be asleep... Hakkas, isn't it?” His voice was booming and echoing, as though it came from somewhere beyond the edge of the universal rim. Had his lips even moved? Or was he communicating by telepathy?

  And if so, did that mean he could push past the defenses of my inhibitor implants and read my mind? Could he discern my true intentions? I threw up a mental shield as quickly as possible, just in case.

  “Insomnia,” I said, fighting to find the right word and pull it from my brain. Suddenly, trying to form any coherent thought felt like fighting my way out of Fyridiian quicksand when I was already up to my waist. “I've... had it all my life.”

  Karaak clucked his tongue at me scoldingly. “All bodies require adequate rest in order to function. I rely on all of my charges to be as aware, active, and productive as possible during waking hours, in order to keep my terraforming operations moving smoothly and profitably.”

  “But I don't work the terra-pods. None of the Sives do.”

  I was sinking deeper, no matter how hard I fought against it. It felt like I was looking up at him helplessly as he towered over me. But how? He hadn't even opened the bars to enter my cell. Were we even still on Karcerikus? It suddenly seemed like we were occupying some terrible void where the laws of reality no longer existed.

  “That doesn't mean you aren't a valuable part of the ecosystem here,” Karaak said. “You keep the other prisoners in line. You keep them docile with contraband, and you ensure that they do not riot... No, your strong and sensible leadership of those gangsters makes you infinitely more useful to me than any mere terraformer would be. However, in order to do that, you must have your rest.”

  It was taking all of my concentration to keep his mental probes at bay. It felt like we were tumbling through infinity together, a hellish forever of him dissecting my
brain until he found what he was looking for. I could practically feel his clammy fingers wrapped around my cerebral cortex, squeezing it, wringing it out, even though he was still outside the cell.

  I resisted fiercely, slamming every door in my mind shut as firmly as possible against his onslaught and fervently hoping it would be enough.

  Thankfully, it was. Barely.

  Karaak's expression darkened with disappointment. He blinked, and we were in Karcerikus again – me on one side of the bars, him on the other.

  “Very well,” Karaak growled. “I shall take my leave of you, but before I do: Might I suggest that you refrain from sitting in the corner of your cell and muttering to yourself? It could easily be mistaken for a sign of mental instability... and since we lack the proper facilities to care for such poor souls, we generally house them down in the seg cells. If you doubt this, ask your fellow convicts about Boola.”

  He smirked, then turned and stepped away from the bars of my cell, into the surrounding shadows.

  11

  Surge

  I used every physical and mental discipline I could summon up to avoid sleeping for the rest of the night. As I did, I kept thinking about everything I'd just experienced.

  Karaak wasn't as attuned to the spiritual forces as the average Lunian – he'd been cut off from them when the other members of his race banished him. He clearly wasn't powerless, but he obviously relied on fear and cheap psychic parlor tricks rather than genuine omniscience. So there was no real reason to believe he suspected my true purpose here – for now, at least.

  There was, it seemed to me, no reason that I shouldn’t succeed in my mission.

  And even more, not only was Paige a worthy ally, she was attracted to me – that much was clear. I was determined to protect her, to take her as my mate and keep her safe no matter what it took. She seemed eager to return to Valkred with me, and not just because it was an alternative to spending the rest of her life in Karcerikus. She sounded genuinely enthralled with the place, and excited by the prospect of making a home there.

  So what if she made a home with me?

  As I'd told her, I'd never even considered the possibility of settling down before. But I couldn't deny how much I needed to claim her, to be with her and protect her. I was on fire, and she was the only thing that could quell the blaze before it consumed me utterly and reduced me to ash.

  Hell, even Dhimurs had encouraged me to explore these feelings if possible. And it was possible – I was increasingly certain of it. We could finish this assignment and then be together. I'd more than done my part to serve Valkred... a lifetime of spying and secrecy, of deceiving and hunting and killing in the name of my homeland. I was certain that I would be rewarded for my dedication with a home and a pension, if I requested it. A chance to spend the rest of my days in peace, with my mate in my arms.

  But what if this was Hakkas' mating urge instead of my own, and it went away once his genetic materials were removed from my body? For that matter, what if Paige was no longer attracted to me once I became myself again? And what about when she realized I hadn't been telling the truth about the fates of the other human prisoners once the mission was over – would she despise me for it?

  But in the end, none of that mattered. I had to take the chance anyway. If the removal of Hakkas from my system resulted in the nullification of our bond, it would be tragic, but so be it – either way, I had to know for sure.

  Besides, when it came to wayward humans, Valkred wasn't the dangerous place it used to be. Carly and her friends had seen to that. Perhaps they would persuade Akzun to establish some colony or outpost in the Valkred System for human refugees who had been freed from slavery. Why not? Stranger things had happened, especially in recent years.

  I resolved then and there that I would do my best to lower my defenses around Paige. It wouldn't be easy after a lifetime of hiding my true thoughts and feelings, but the way I saw it, the rewards were well worth the risks.

  I continued pondering this as I marched to the laser showers naked with half the other inmates in unit seven for our weekly “cleaning.”

  The showers consisted of a series of burnished steel stalls that were routinely scoured with lasers which stripped the occupants of sweat, grime, dermal pests and parasites, and in some cases, hair and a layer or two of flesh, depending on how well the sensors were functioning. Most laser showers built for private and commercial use were designed to be gentle and painless, even soothing – but from what the other Sives had told me, these prison models hurt every time. A burned metallic scent hung in the air constantly, like the smell lightning bolts leave in their aftermath.

  The memories I now shared with Hakkas told me something else, too... that such shower facilities were often used to stage brutal attacks on other convicts.

  The jailers herded us through the cavernous shower area, using their batons to shove us into the stalls as the laser emitters lit up and the air crackled and hummed. I continued to follow the jailers down the row of stalls. There were periodic yowls of pain from some of the more thin-skinned inmates, plus the constant murmur of the rest of them, gossiping and plotting and scheming among themselves.

  How I despised them. They were nothing more than a mindless, wriggling, disgusting swarm, stomach-turning in their ugliness, like insects crawling within a piece of fruit. How I longed for a heavy-duty blaster rifle in my hands so I could pull the trigger over and over again, mow them all down, watch their bodies jerk as they slipped and slid and squirmed in pools of their own blood...

  No. No. Hakkas had taken over once more. I had to keep his vile urges locked away. I had to prove that I was in control here, not him.

  Korkos slipped into line behind me, keeping his voice low. “Thanks for the prompt payment. Just to show you how grateful I am, I figured I should let you know...”

  “That the Carnage Riders plan to kill me during my shower,” I guessed flatly.

  He blinked. “Hey, you're already on top of things? Fine. I reckon I shouldn't be surprised, a sharp guy like you. Even so, remember who's watching your back in here, yeah?”

  It wasn't hard to figure out what he was angling for. “The next transfer to your account will include a bonus for your vigilance on my behalf.”

  Korkos nodded, and then gestured to one of the stalls politely. “I'll leave you to it, then.”

  I stepped in and kept my back firmly to the wall, waiting for the lasers to activate and shine their harsh light all over my body. But before they could, the four hulking Riders who had threatened me before blocked the narrow entrance to the stall, snarling. Like me, they were naked.

  “I'm flattered that you thought of me,” I said dryly, “but I have no intention of washing your backs for you. Or braiding them, for that matter.”

  “Always gotta be a comedian, don't you?” Bolpho looked down at me with his catlike eyes, baring his sharp yellow teeth. His hair and scales were as black as the farthest depths of space. “You're gonna wish you'd kept your mouth shut once we yank that tongue out and nail it to the fucking wall.”

  “So stop talking and come at me, you cowards,” I challenged, calculating my advantages as best I could.

  From where I was standing, there weren't many.

  They may have been unarmed, but between the four of them, they could still easily tear me to pieces with their bare hands if I were some other untrained and unsuspecting inmate. I was trapped in a small space without much room to maneuver. And I hated fighting in the nude.

  But I had one thing on my side: They were too big for more than one of them to rush into the stall at once. They'd have to assault me one at a time.

  I could work with that.

  Bolpho lunged at me first, his bulk eclipsing almost every inch of the stall ahead of me. I evaded his long, grasping arms, darting inside his reach and slamming the top of my head into the underside of his jaw. I generally didn't favor using my own skull as a weapon – especially not so early in a fight, when it was important to r
emain clear-headed – but I knew the surprise of such a move would give me an edge.

  And I was right. Bolpho's teeth smashed together and his head snapped backward, exposing his throat. I took advantage of the opening, hurtling my elbow into his windpipe. He stumbled backward and collapsed, choking and gurgling.

  One down.

  Taylus shoved Bolpho aside, coming at me with lethal malice burning in all three of his slitted reptilian eyes. I'd always found Kroteians to be a hideous species, with their blunt features and hairless blue bodies... like mannequins hastily assembled by blind morons. Many times, during my planet's war against Mana, I desperately wished we could have been killing these cretins by the shipload instead of the fish-people.

  I was tempted to kill this one, but I knew it would be safer to leave him alive but wounded and humiliated. Otherwise, I might be sent to a seg cell for causing such a disturbance, even if I'd acted in self-defense. From what Karaak had said, he was already looking for a reason.

  Thankfully, Taylus moved with all the speed of a glacier on the Egone tundra, giving me more than enough time to prepare my attack.

  His crotch was the most obvious target – too obvious. He'd see that strike coming and counter it easily. Likewise, a hit to the head would be anticipated and blocked.

  Good.

  I faked him out with a swing at his jaw. Predictably, he raised his arms to ward it off, leaving the rest of his body unprotected. My other fist crashed directly into his solar plexus with the force of a meteor hitting the ground and he doubled over... right into my waiting uppercut.

  He took a step backward, shook his head to clear it, and kept coming. These bikers were tough bastards.

  Unfortunately for them, so was I.

  He swung his meaty fist at my face – just as the laser shower activated, its beams filling the stall with red light. It was enough to make Taylus recoil and squint, distracting him so I could take a step forward and drive my heel directly into the arch of his foot. He roared with agony and I grabbed the edges of the stall, lifting my body upward and kicking his chest with both feet as hard as I could. He was sent careening into the opposite stall, where his flailing limbs became tangled with those of a Mana. Both of them sank to the floor, writhing and cursing at each other.