Fractured Souls: Darkstar Mercenaries Book 3

by Carven, Anna

  And now the Federation had said enough.

  “I can give you as many weapons as you need,” Ramos said quietly. “I can put you in touch with a private security company. They’re—”

  “Expensive,” she said flatly. “I’d probably be able to afford their services for twelve months at best. Then what?”

  “The company’s owned by my cousin. He can give you a discounted rate.”

  “Is he sure he wants to take on this job?”

  Without protection, she’d be dead within a week, but she didn’t want any more people to die. It was her job to protect humans, not get them killed.

  These Kordolians were’t playing. The bounty hunters they’d sent were highly trained, elite operators.

  Ramos gave her a long, hard look. Eighteen months had passed since the attack in Sierra Nevada South, but it looked like he’d aged ten years since then. “There’s another option.” He pulled out another Juvi stick and flicked the end, activating the autolight. Pink smoke started to drift into the air. “It’s a long shot, but maybe…”

  “What?”

  “I hate to lose your brilliant mind, Carter, but maybe you’re safer outside the Federation.”

  Suddenly, all her suspicions crystallized. “You’re thinking what I’m thinking.”

  “I think we’re compromised. Someone’s feeding information to the enemy. How do they always seem to know exactly where you’ll be, even when we move you to another secure location?”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah. Shit. Times are changing, Detective. Things aren’t what they used to be. I don’t think any human’s safe on Earth anymore. Not since those black ships showed up. We humans just have to accept that the good times are over. Dark clouds on the horizon.”

  For a moment, both of them were silent. The appearance of the Kordolian ships had sent a dark current of fear and paranoia through Earth’s citizens. There was talk of an alliance, but she didn’t believe the Federation’s vague inforeleases.

  She couldn’t forget the Kordolian’s dying words.

  The ones that have taken this Earth are much worse.

  “You’re going to have to go off planet.”

  “Off planet?”

  “I’ve got access to a seat on a colony ship. It’s completely private enterprise, no links to the Fed. I’ve done some background checks. They’re legit. It leaves in two days.”

  “Where’s it going?”

  “A frontier planet called Miridian-8. There’s a small human colony there. It’s similar to Earth. There’s water, oxygen, plenty of jungle… sounds like a nice little vacation.” He smiled grimly. “I’ll arrange it off-record. The official channels won’t hear of it. I can give you a new identity and wipe your bio-data, but once you set foot on that ship, you’re on your own. Be prepared for a long journey and lots of cryosleep. The good thing is, they outsource their security to alien mercs. The colony has medium-level protection. It isn’t perfect, but it’s better than anything you’d get on Earth. Your choice, Carter. Stay on Earth, or go. I know this is hard, but it’s the best I can do.”

  Either way, she would be taking a huge risk.

  No more. This ends now.

  “I’ll go.” Alexis made up her mind. It didn’t take much. She was desperate, and she was out of options.

  If she stayed on Earth, she would be killed eventually.

  That was just the way things were.

  “I thought you might say that. Any last requests?”

  “You make it sound like you’re sending me to my death already.”

  “Sorry. You know what I mean.”

  “There’s just one person I want to talk to before I leave. Can you set up a secure comm? I’ll take it in here.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  “Thanks, Nate.”

  And that was how Alexis found herself with a ticket for passage to a planet she’d never heard of in her life. Ramos was right. Things were different now. The relative peace and safety humans had enjoyed for so long could be destroyed at any moment.

  Hers was already shattered.

  Three

  Present time: Kordolian Fleet Station - Undisclosed location in Sector Six

  Nythian frowned as he stared at his boss, folding his arms and trying not to look as tense as he felt. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his impatience growing. They were standing in Tarak al Akkadian’s command room, a dark, minimalist space on the lower decks, where they were graced with an expansive view of the Universe.

  The fact that Nythian had been temporarily relieved of his guard duty and summoned here might be a good thing, or it might not. With the General, it was always hard to tell. Secretly, he hoped he was being assigned to a different task; perhaps a mission in another sector with his offsider, Lodan. He always got antsy when he was stuck on the Fleet Station for too long. For a change, he wouldn’t mind visiting one of the wild border planets where the native inhabitants hadn’t had much contact with outsiders. Those places were always interesting.

  Nythian craved action. There were only so many fight simulations one could work through in the training chamber, and these days, his brothers weren’t always free to slug it out with him in an impromptu sparring session.

  “I have an assignment for you.” The General’s voice was soft, but it sliced through Nythian’s thoughts like a perfectly honed Callidum blade.

  “Sir?”

  “You will be the revenant’s minder. She is fragile, but also potentially dangerous.”

  Nythian blinked. “Sir?” He stiffened, resisting the temptation to make the sign of the Goddess with his fingers. The situation with the human, Alexis… he’d be lying if he said it didn’t spook him a little. The woman had come back from the dead, for Kaiin’s sake. “I don’t think I’d be the best one for the job. Maybe one of the other guys would be—”

  “Are you trying to argue with me, Nythian?” Tarak’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

  Nythian knew that look.

  Don’t push your luck.

  He was one step away from getting a serious beat-down.

  “Just stating the facts, Sir.” But he went there anyway, because right now he wouldn’t mind going up against the General in the training chamber. There was a longstanding bet amongst all the First Division brothers that one of them would eventually defeat Tarak in a sparring session, and Nythian wanted to be the one to do it. He could use the workout, anyway. “I’ve never been any good at babysitting, and the human’s shit-scared of me. Maybe you could assign one of the others; someone with a friendlier looking, uh, face.”

  The General inclined his head, not buying into Nythian’s logic. “There are times when my mate is in there with her.” His voice grew soft. “You understand what that means, don’t you?”

  “Yeah.” Shit. The mates of the First Division warriors were sacred, vulnerable, human. Nythian would guard Abbey as diligently and fiercely as he would his own mate. “When you put it that way…”

  He couldn’t refuse such a responsibility. He knew it. Tarak knew it.

  It was just how they were wired.

  “The revenant is still an unknown quantity. We don’t know the long-term effects of the transfer. There has been no evidence of the Tharian symbiote since it left Enki’s body, but that does not mean that it won’t emerge at some point. Any time my mate is in the revenant’s presence, I expect you to observe her every move, every breath, every thought. If there is even the merest whisper of a suggestion of danger to Abbey, you will intervene before the idea even enters the revenant’s head.” The General’s crimson eyes gleamed in the starlight as his expression turned fierce. “Of course, if it were up to me, I would guard her myself, but the Nine Galaxies will not run themselves, and I may have to make an unexpected trip to Bartharra soon, so I am entrusting her safety to you.”

  Tarak’s words sank deep as Nythian realized the magnitude of the task he’d been given. Still, he couldn’t help but ask the obvious. “Wouldn’t it just be
safer if Abbey stays away from Alexis until we know exactly what’s going on with her?”

  “Do you think I can tell my mate what to do?” A strange mixture of emotion crossed Tarak’s face—tension, pride, absolute devotion, and something Nythian couldn’t quite put his finger on. “Abbey sees this woman, Alexis, as one of her tribe, and it is in her nature to feel responsible for her. It would be so very easy for me to restrain my wife, Nythian, but then it would be very hard for me to earn back her trust. She is not helpless, and the reality is that we are only going to make progress with the revenant if she is able to interact with her fellow humans.”

  “This new female is petrified of anything silver and fanged,” Nythian said dryly. “Stares a heck of a lot, but hasn’t said a word to me.”

  “That is why Abbey and Layla are instrumental in her rehabilitation. Did you not wonder why Alexis is so afraid of our kind?” Tarak turned his head, glancing out across the stars as a small, sleek black cruiser drifted past the window. Nythian recognized it as one of their own—probably a passenger transport returning from its base ship. Once again, the Fleet Station had become a hive of activity, only this time they were far, far away from Kythia.

  “Well, up until only recently, we were responsible for colonizing and plundering most of the Nine Galaxies, so she’s probably got this idea in her head that we’re murderous monsters.”

  “No, her fear is rooted much deeper than that. Abbey tells me she is traumatized. She let slip that she was attacked by Kordolians on Earth, but she does not trust us enough to reveal the details. Tell me, Nythian. Are you not curious to find out exactly who attacked her?”

  “Sounds a bit strange,” he agreed, “but I don’t think I’m going to have much luck asking her questions, if you know what I mean. Might be better to get Zharek to give her a truth serum.”

  “I thought about it, but Zharek says it is too dangerous. Stripping her of her inhibitions while the Tharian lurks in her subconscious could have unintended consequences.”

  “So how in Kaiin’s Hells do we get any answers out of her?”

  “Her view of Kordolians needs to change.”

  “You want me to be the one to convince her that we aren’t the bad guys?” Nythian’s tone was laced with a healthy dose of skepticism. He couldn’t help it. Every time the human had looked at him she’d worn an expression of pure fear—with a hint of madness. What in Kaiin’s Hells had happened to her? “She’s not going to—”

  “Nythian.”

  “Okay, okay.” He backed down, waving his hand in a resigned gesture. He knew the signs. The boss was beginning to lose patience. Now that Tarak had explained the whole thing in detail—protecting Abbey, retrieving information, observing for any signs of the Tharian—the task of guarding the mysterious human called Alexis Carter didn’t seem so mundane… although he still had around sixty chalens of free time before he was due to go back and take over from Enki, and he was determined to make the most of it. “You got time for a quick rumble in the training chamber, Sir?”

  “Always.” Tarak’s expression didn’t change one whit. He turned and started to walk, beckoning for Nythian to follow. “I will destroy you.”

  “Go ahead and try,” Nythian bared his fangs as his battle-lust surged. “I’ll make you eat your words.” When two First Division warriors stepped into the fight chamber, it was inevitable that they were going to beat each other to a pulp. Their highly modified bodies could take it again and again, so they fought as savagely as if they were in real combat—with claw and blade and fang. Nothing was off limits.

  A look of pure arrogance spread across Tarak’s face—almost a smirk, except the formidable leader of the First Division never smirked. “Go ahead and try. See what happens.”

  Nythian grinned. He couldn’t resist a challenge. Lodan always ribbed him for being too competitive, but really, they were all like that. The scientists behind the Empire’s brutal Exogenesis project hadn’t selected their candidates based on their physical attributes alone.

  Personality was a major factor, according to Zharek.

  Competitive. Violent. Inherently savage.

  But they could be protective, too.

  Perhaps this assignment involving Alexis Carter wasn’t just a mundane guard job after all. It was an odd little challenge, the likes of which Nythian hadn’t encountered before.

  Because how in the Nine Hells was a savage brute like him supposed to convince a terrified human to trust him, let alone one who had gone through the most unimaginable experience—resurrected from the dead?

  With a Tharian in her head, to boot. Was she even human anymore?

  “Not all battles are won by force,” the General said softly, and it was as if he’d read Nythian’s thoughts. “It will not be that difficult if you make an effort to understand her.”

  Damn. Sometimes Nythian wondered if Tarak had some uncanny sixth sense. His ability to read people and predict their actions was scary.

  Well, that’s why he was the boss. His strike rate was off the charts.

  “I’ll keep it in mind,” Nythian murmured as they left the command room, striding down the dark corridor. “But right now, I’m more focused on thinking about how I’m going to whoop your ass.”

  “Oh?” The General’s voice became dangerously soft—anyone who knew him well knew that tone—but there was a touch of dark humor in there, too. “You are skirting very close to insubordination, soldier.”

  “Yeah, but I ain’t a soldier anymore.”

  “Hmph.” A snort of amusement escaped Tarak as they passed through unravelling Qualum doors and entered the training room, a vast space bordered on all sides by indestructible black walls. This particular chamber was reserved exclusively for the First Division warriors, because sometimes a man just needed to fight, and when the urge struck, it was impossible to shake off.

  Unlike the other training facilities, this room didn’t have a viewing gallery. There were just the black walls and floor, and darkness.

  The Qualum doors shut ominously behind them. Tarak undid his dark blue kashkan, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it across the room. Black nanites were already rippling across his skin, forming the seamless exo-armor that could stop most things—except Callidum blades and Xargek claws and close-range repeated plasma blasts, and of course their own Callidum-impregnated claws.

  That was a lot of things, actually.

  Having just come off guard duty, Nythian was already wearing his full battle-kit, including weapons. The General wasn’t armed, so to be fair, Nythian methodically got rid of his knives, swords, and plasma-guns, dropping them onto the floor with a clatter.

  They were going to fight on equal terms.

  Tarak walked into the center of the room, flexing his knuckles. “Ready?”

  “Always, boss.”

  Nythian didn’t get another word in, because the General’s fist was already flying toward his face.

  So he did the only thing he could.

  He dodged, and struck back with a vicious kick to the stomach, which connected.

  Got you.

  And found himself thrown flat on his back, wondering what the fuck had just happened.

  Bastard. I’m going to get you for that. Savage glee coursed through him as his claws came out. His heart thundered. His blood sang. This was what he was. A warrior. A fighter. A fucking monster.

  Just like his brothers.

  Could he ever convince Alexis that he was different to the monstrous image of Kordolians she held in her mind? Was she even sane enough to believe him?

  “Never know until you try,” he muttered as he launched into a blistering new combination attack he’d been practicing recently.

  But the wily General—the tactician, the mind-reader, the unorthodox fighter—somehow, he was able to read Nythian’s intent. He dodged and blocked, ignoring Nythian’s claws even as they pierced the armor covering his torso, drawing obsidian blood.

  First blood.

  Nythian smile
d. It definitely wouldn’t be the last. Yeah, he was a nice guy sometimes, just not all the time.

  But then she would never have to see this side of him… would she?

  Four

  It was way too cold in here. Alexis rubbed her arms, trembling slightly. She didn’t know whether it was the ship’s internal climate, or if there was something wrong with her.

  Ever since that long-haired alien—scientist, medic, whatever—had taken her out of the stasis tank, Alexis had felt as if her brain and heart were somehow disconnected from her limbs.

  What a fucking nightmare.

  The Kordolians had locked her in this dark, windowless cell. They’d sedated her and restrained her and forced her to have injections that sent her into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  She didn’t fight the injections anymore, because sometimes the oblivion of sleep was better than being awake.

  The only bright spots in her existence were the visits from the two human women, Abbey and Layla. She knew Layla from Earth and from the Malachi—Layla Rose the actress had been a superstar back on Earth, and Layla the human had been a fellow passenger on that doomed spaceflight—but Abbey was a total enigma.

  A generous, bubbly, opinionated, down-to-Earth enigma. She seemed so out of place in this dark, alien place.

  What the hell were Abbey and Layla doing here?

  Both of them constantly tried to reassure her, telling her everything was okay now, but she found it hard to believe.

  They were on a Kordolian ship.

  What if the human women were captives, acting under duress?

  What if they were replicants, and this was all just some cruel, sick game the Kordolians were playing?

  She didn’t trust anybody in this place, not even the voice that whispered in her mind.

  A creature that called itself Anuk.

  It came during the quiet times, when everyone was gone except the silent, terrifying guard who sat just outside her door. It was seductive, speaking of revenge and power and the things she could be capable of… if only Alexis would yield.