Alien Mercenary’s Destiny by Mina Carter
14
“That asshole general needs to be taken down a peg or two,” Sparky grumbled as they boarded the shuttle. The team had closed ranks and blocked any of the Kantar getting aboard, a fact that had caused another round of complaint from the general as he and his men were relegated to the other shuttles.
“Oh, don’t worry. I will be having words with my father,” the princess replied as she was ushered to her seat in the central area of the shuttle. She didn’t appear at all concerned with the lack of luxury aboard the large troop shuttle. She just apologized for not being more capable when Red had to help her buckle into the crash harness.
Eric settled himself in one of the seats at the back of the shuttle, near the airlock door. It started to cycle closed as he buckled himself in, his rifle in the rack by his thigh. He slid a look at the closing door, not liking the fact that Zad was in a shuttle on her own.
He dropped his head back to rest against the seat, his eyes closed. He’d totally fucked things up between them. She hadn’t accepted his apology. Hell, she wouldn’t even look at him.
“Hey, big bro. You did good out there.”
Eris, her suit open and stored in a crouch on the other side of the main area, dropped into the seat next to him to buckle in. To anyone else, her expression would have been calm and unruffled, but he’d been looking at the same face in the mirror for years, albeit written in masculine lines, so he easily caught the look of concern.
“Thanks,” he muttered in reply. Then he rubbed a large hand at the back of his neck. “I need your help.”
Her eyebrow shot up and she leaned back in her chair. The expression on her face invited him to elaborate.
He sighed. “You’re not going to make this easy. Are you?”
“Hell no.” She grinned. “You realize this is the first time, like ever, you’ve asked for my help? Especially with a woman.”
He blinked. “How do you know it’s with a woman?”
“You know…” She gave him a flat look. “Sometimes I think Mom dropped you on your head at birth.”
“Really?” He couldn’t help biting. “Did you miss the multiple degrees?”
“All that book learning and you’re still a fucking idiot. Anyone who’s seen you with Zad recently knows you fucked it up, so give it over with the attitude. Do you want my help or not?”
“Yes.” The admission was grudging, his voice low. It was embarrassing to admit, but he couldn’t sort this one out on his own. The saying was right. Men were from Mars and women were from Venus. And that went twice for alien women. He hadn’t the first clue what to do about the situation with Zad.
“Okay. Good.” His twin grinned, a little light in her eyes. “You’re a dickhead.”
“I thought you were supposed to be helping,” he grouched.
“I am.”
“How is calling me names helping?” he demanded, casting a quick glance to the front of the cabin.
Zero sat just behind the pilot’s seat, currently occupied by Beauty. T’Raal and Fin were talking to the princess while Red was currently ignoring Sparky eyeing her up. Any moment now, he’d say something ill-advised, and she’d slap him. Or… make something in his quarters on the Sprite break later. They’d all heard Fin’s whining about his permanently cold shower.
“Just setting the scene. You are a dickhead. You can’t go calling a woman an animal and expect to get away with it. I’m surprised she didn’t fucking slap you. I would have.”
“You always want to slap me.”
“Of course I do. I’m your sister.”
The deck vibrated beneath his feet as the engines came online. “So when do we get to the part where you help me?”
“Apologize.”
He snorted, folding his arms over his chest. “Not a fucking chance.”
Eris rolled her eyes. “Not to me, dipshit. You need to apologize to Zad. On your knees if necessary. Chocolate and flowers wouldn’t go amiss either.”
“She can’t eat chocolate—”
“Stop!” Zero yelled, cutting off what Eric had been saying and making everyone in the shuttle turn and look at him.
“Shuttle three went dark,” the cyborg said, his face a tight mask. His eyes unfocused as he disappeared into cyberspace. “They’re not responding to my pings.”
T’Raal grunted. “Have you checked all frequencies?”
Zero nodded, his expression concerned. “All known frequencies in this galaxy and a few that aren’t. Even the old one Zad’s internal comm was on earlier.”
Eric tore at his harness. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. He could feel it in his bones.
“Get that airlock open,” he demanded, panic filling his movements. Zad was on shuttle three. She was in danger.
Beside him, Eris slipped out of her harness just as quickly and launched herself across the back of the shuttle. With a practiced jump, she grabbed the top edge of her suit cockpit and twisted to slide inside. The top snapped down, the suit coming online as Eric waited for the lock to cycle open.
He slipped through as soon as the gap was big enough, hearing T’Raal’s shouted orders behind him. “Fin, keep up with them! Everyone else get me a secure perimeter Now!”
Eric hit the docking bay at a run, all but sliding around the turn as he changed direction. People of all species scattered, moving out of his way as he charged down the corridor toward airlock nine. Even from here he could see the door was open. Ice filled his veins. It shouldn’t be open. They should already have the locks closed and have their engines running.
Something was wrong. More wrong than just a breakdown in comms.
Please be okay. Please be okay. The mantra rolled through his head as he dug down for more speed. His boots pounded the deck plating with Fin and Eris right behind him as he swung into the open airlock.
“No… nonono,” he moaned, skidding to a halt as the scent of blood hit him.
“Lights coming on,” Eris warned as she ducked into the lock. The spotlights on the front of her suit snapped on, revealing a scene of carnage. Bodies were strewn everywhere—slumped in corners and draped over seats.
“Fuuuuuck,” Fin breathed. “Looks like they were ripped apart.”
Eric swallowed, nodding. Some of the bodies weren’t even recognizable. But nowhere did he see skin with scales like diamonds.
“She’s not here. Can anyone see Zad?” he asked frantically as he rushed from body to body. “Where is she?”
Fin stopped his mad rush, his expression kind. “She’s not here, brother. Don’t worry. We’ll find her. Zero’s already on it.”
“So… Who the fuck… What the fuck… is that?” T’Raal demanded an hour later. The princess had been safely escorted back to her flagship, and they’d returned to the Sprite to examine the evidence.
So far all they had was the footage Eris had managed to capture of the bodies before they’d been claimed by the Kantar—who weren’t at all interested in anyone finding out that some of their most elite troops had been caught unaware and slaughtered—and Zero’s hacked copy of the surveillance camera outside the airlock.
They’d all watched as Zad entered the airlock, her shoulders tight with tension. A minute or so later a male emerged, a large kit bag over his shoulder. Tall and broad shouldered, he had the same coloring as the other Kantar. As they watched, the feed jumped for a second, the area around the bag fuzzy. Red leaned in, frowning. “He’s using a personal concealer around himself and that bag. I’ll bet he’s got Zad in there.”
The guy on the feed looked directly at the camera for a moment before walking off.
“Cocky fucking bastard,” Fin growled, the rest of the team nodding in agreement. Eric narrowed his eyes, memorizing the guy’s face. If he ever saw him again, he would take him apart. Slowly.
“He reaches the end of the corridor here,” Zero murmured, changing camera angles so they could follow him. “But then there’s a blank spot as he turns the corner. It’s just a fraction of a second before the next camera loops pick him up.”
They watched as the view changed. And their guy disappeared.
“Whoa, what happened?”
“Where did he go?”
Zero rolled the feed back and ran it again. The tall blond guy and his bag disappeared completely.
“Wait,” Eric said suddenly. “Look at the big woman on the left. She’s walking funny.”
He pointed to a tall female with an eye wateringly psychedelic dress.
“So would I be in that,” Sparky snorted. “Someone call the fashion police.”
“See what I mean?” he pressed on, ignoring the wraith’s comment. “She’s listing to the side, like that little purse weighs a ton.”
Zero nodded. “The muscular tension is all wrong. She’s definitely carrying something else.”
“Shapeshifter?” T’Raal suggested, and everyone turned to look at Beauty.
He shrugged. “If it is, it’s not a Seratovian.”
“How do you know?” Eric demanded, even as his stomach dropped through his boots. If a space dragon had Zad it was going to be a bloodbath to get her back. But… why would a dragon want a hive queen?
“Other than the fact there are only two of us left alive and the other one is back at the pits, I know,” Beauty said calmly, his arms folded over his chest. “Our scent is distinctive. I’d have smelled it on you when you came back from the shuttle.”
“Even that little amount of time?” Eric was skeptical.
Beauty gave him a hard look. “Even half a second. That is not a Seratovian.”
“Okay.” T’Raal pushed off his perch against the back of the command chair. “Zero, follow the trail. Everyone else, prep for another mission. As soon as we get a lead, we’re going after Zad. Whoever that is, they’re going to fucking regret taking one of the Warborne.”
The crew murmured variations on “yes, boss” as they left the bridge, dispersing to wherever on the ship they headed to tool up for a mission.
Eric left just after Eris, but instead of heading to his quarters, he went straight down to his lab. Kitting up was little more than strapping on a tac-rig and as many weapons as he could, but he couldn’t focus on that. Not at the moment.
Instead, that odd familiarity he’d seen in Zad’s genetic code kept popping up in his mind. It looked like half a sequence, and he knew he’d seen the other pair somewhere. But where?
“Computer, lights on.” He closed the door behind him as the screens on the opposite wall flickered to life. “Open data file Zadaenae three seven alpha and run fragment comparison with all genetic profiles in the database.”
“Of course, Doctor Archer. Would you like a position-relative scan? Positive or negative impression?”
He frowned as he crossed to his notes, scanning them again. “Wildcard search for the position. Give me only the negative impressions please.”
That should show only genetic fragments that were opposite to what he’d seen in Zad’s DNA. Like a lock and a key. He didn’t know how it would help, just that possibly it would.
Three hours later, his eyes burned, and the computer still churned away at its search. Eric sighed and leaned back in his chair, rubbing at the back of his neck. Perhaps this was a dead end?
The computer cheeped softly. “Negative match found.”
His eyes flew open.
“Where? Open file and display on main screen.”
“Eric… we got a lead,” the shipboard comms sparked into life, Fin’s voice issuing over the speakers.
“Yeah?” he answered absently, all his focus on the screen as the DNA match unfolded in front of him. His eyes widened. Shit, it was human. Kind of. He leaned forward, his nose almost against the screen. That was definitely the basis of the human helix but it had been altered—
“We know where Zad is. And who has her. Get your ass up here.”
“Who?” he asked, turning the image on the screen. “Computer confirm. Is this human DNA altered with Krynassis DNA somehow?”
It was. Before the computer replied, he could see how the alien DNA had inserted itself into the human helix.
“That is correct, Doctor Archer. Subject sample contains twenty percent nonhuman genetic material.”
His breath escaped him on a sigh of wonder. It was… elegant. Brutal, but elegant. And… holy shit. He could see where the trigger was. A gene splice inserted exactly right would open this whole sequence and give the affected individual armor like Zad’s. The same gene splice… no, a negative version of the gene splice inserted in Zad’s DNA and she’d be able to keep her armor in place as long as she wanted.
“Computer. Identify owner of genetic profile?”
“The genetic profile belongs to Doctor Eric Archer,” the computer answered smoothly.
“Shit.”
“Her mother.”
Fucking double shit. He straightened up so quickly he almost hit his head on the lighting looming over the main workbench.
“Where?” he demanded, already typing out a gene-recoding sequence and saving it to a data chip. Slipping it into his pocket, he dropped his glasses on the desk and left the lab.
“Out near the Rheroti Clouds.”
“We need to get there. Her mother will kill her. She had her put in the pits, for fuck’s sake. Now Zad’s free, she obviously intends to finish the job.”
It took him seconds to get to the deck above, scaling the ladder by taking two rungs at a time. His new, more powerful body moved quicker and easier.
“Talent, you in here?” he called out as he shouldered his way into the medbay.
It was empty. Crap. He needed Tal to operate the auto-bed. His gaze fell on it. He’d reviewed the specs of the thing. It was more than capable of editing genetic code… hell, that was practically first aid for the Lathar.
“Okay,” he murmured, rounding the auto-bed and sliding the datachip into the console. “It’s just you and me, sexy lady. What do you say?”
The console chirped softly at him as it uploaded the data and the lights along the edge of the bed glowed softly. He took that as an invitation and shucked off his shirt before he lay down.
“I’m coming for you, Zad,” he murmured as the rings began to spin. “Just hold on, sweetheart. I’m coming.”
Waking up was not a pleasant experience for Zad. Her head pounded so badly she was sure it had been used as a ball by an intergalactic warble team. She had a metal bar dug so deeply into her stomach it was practically scraping her spine, and she was about to be sick.
Worse, when she opened her eyes, the floor was blurry and moving. She closed her eyes and swallowed. When she opened her eyes again, she realized the floor wasn’t moving, she was. Or, more correctly, the male whose shoulder she was draped over was moving.
She groaned, trying to keep the little she’d eaten in her stomach. A hard hand clamped down over the backs of her legs, forestalling any thoughts of escape. She winced as they passed a bank of lighting, the light stabbing through her skull and bringing up a new wave of nausea.
Where was she? She tried to blink past the flashing lights in her field of vision. All she could smell was the engine oil and grease rising from the back of the pant-clad legs below her. The long legs ended in heavy combat boots big enough for a couple of kids to use as a boat. The male must be at least seven feet…
Her eyes widened as memory flooded back. Green skin. Tusks. The Tanel… she’d been taken by the scale-damned bogeyman. The ancient enemy every species in the galaxy threatened their kids with.
If you don’t behave, the Tanel will come and get you…
But it couldn’t be a Tanel. The Lathar had wiped them out thousands of years ago. None were left alive. There couldn’t be.
“Ah, Saak, you have her. Good, bring her in here.”
Zad stiffened as a voice from her nightmares filled her ears. Her mother. Shit. No. This couldn’t be happening. Panic filling her, she struggled, trying to escape her captor as he strode through into her mother’s throne room. Now the spots had cleared from her vision, she could see the distinctive blood-red tiles on the floor. Yeah, this was her mother’s hive ship, the one place in the universe more dangerous to her than the Pits of Tarviisa.
Escape was impossible. The Tanel had her securely.
“Nonono,” she hissed, hammering on his back.
He just growled and twisted, dumping her on the floor before her mother’s throne.
“Zadaenae,” her parent hissed, leaning forward to glare down at her with hatred. “Why can’t you be a good daughter and just die?”
Zad lifted her chin, refusing to show weakness even from her position on the floor. Sistilia was a beautiful female, her features aristocratic and her scale armor tinged blood red to match her scarlet eyes. Hair the same hue flowed down over her shoulders, her height and figure identical to Zad’s… the only thing she had inherited from her mother.
“I’m sure it wasn’t for want of you trying,” she replied mildly, rising to her feet gracefully. “Long time, no see, Mother.”
“Did I sssssay you could rissse?”
Sistilia’s scepter snapped out, knocking Zad’s feet out from under her. Zad bit back her groan as she hit the red tiles again.
“You will grovel before your queen, worm!”
It was like a scene from her childhood, being made to prostrate herself in worship for hours to the female who had birthed her by accident. She was not just an accident but unwanted. Reviled.
She stayed down, knowing this game of old, and turned her head slightly. The Tanel stood to the side, his massive feet planted shoulder-width apart. He was a big bastard of a male with a broken tusk and a scar snaking up over one eye. She frowned. If she didn’t know better, she could almost believe this was Saak, the Tanel warlord from the old myths. But it couldn’t be. He’d fought and lost against the first Latharian emperor. No, he had to be…
She didn’t know what he had to be. He shouldn’t even be standing there.
“You have done well, Saak. Name your price,” Sistilia sat back on her throne with elegant grace, her chin resting on one delicate hand. With her scales receding, the milky skin looked soft and fragile. It was anything but. Zad knew from experience that gentle-looking hand was strong enough to break bones.
Saak grunted. “You know what I want.”
Sistilia pouted. “Not acceptable. Pick something else.”
“If you do not pay, I will take her.” Stomping forward, he bent down. Zad hissed in warning, snatching her ankle away as she scuttled across the floor. One thing she knew was she didn’t want to be the Tanel’s captive again. Myth said they were as bad as the Krin. Worse. The things they did to their captives… it was enough to turn the strongest of stomachs.
She hit something hard and stopped, looking up. A wizened, scaled face looked down at her, red dots in the center of her saggy cheeks. Zad’s heart stopped in the center of her chest.
A scale witch. They were rare and extremely dangerous.
“It’s okay,” she gasped, throwing herself backward and slamming into the Tanel’s lower legs. “I’ll go with him.”
Whatever the Tanel did to her, he could only kill her once. The witch would steal her soul and she would suffer an eternity of torment, unable to pass over into the afterlife.
“Fine.” Sistilia sighed, waving her hand. “Bring her.”
“No, no… please,” she begged, looking up into the Tanel’s eyes pleadingly. “I’ll do you anything you want. Please, don’t let them take me.”
For a moment something flared in the backs of his eyes, and she held her breath. Whatever he wanted from her, she would survive it. She had survived her childhood, the pits… she could survive this.
His eyes turned dead and flat, no emotion in them whatsoever, and all hope died.
He grunted. Wrapping a massive fist around her upper arm, he hauled her upright and shoved her ahead of him to follow her mother and the witch.
“I’ll get what I want anyway, Princess,” he growled. “I always do.”
