Dark Planet Warriors: The Serial (Books 1-3) (3 page)

Ever since the nine galaxies were mapped, we’ve come to the realization that we’re actually not the center of the universe.

Far from it. Most aliens consider us a far-flung, underdeveloped backwater, not worth even fighting about. We’ve already damaged enough of our planet on our own, without the help of aliens, thank-you very much.

I’ve never even heard of Kordolians traveling this far out of their way. Has a Kordolian even set foot in the Solar System before?

I sure as hell hope they’re just lost. Maybe their Galactic Atlas malfunctioned.

Because with everything that’s happening on Earth right now, the last thing we need is a dominant alien race coming and recruiting us under the guise of benevolent rule.

I shudder a little, before pulling myself together. I catch the errant thoughts before they spiral downward into full-on scary territory.

No point in worrying about things I can’t do anything about.

On the other hand, the oxygen filters won’t change themselves. And I have chocolate stashed in my locker. It always does wonders for curing feelings of imminent doom.

Ah yes, chocolate. Just the thought of it is making me feel better already.

Tarak

The boss of the mining station occupies a floor high above the Human workers’ factories and offices. There’s a reception type area at the entrance, and for a utilitarian industrial station such as this, it’s surprisingly opulent.

The floors are made of rare, black Jentian stone, polished to a high sheen, and there is green vegetation trailing up the glass walls, attached to metal trellises.

Again, the lights are irritatingly bright, serving to perpetuate my headache.

Humans must have poor dark-vision. It has to be the only reason they insist on illuminating the entire place like a flaring star.

The space is seemingly empty, but from a distance, I hear something.

Footsteps. Arkan and Kalan sense the same. We’re at a kind of junction, the passageway stretching out in both directions in front of the cavernous space.
 

“They’re trying to cut us off.” Kalan hefts his giant plasma cannon over his shoulder, and gets down on one knee, pointing it down the still empty corridor.

I sense it now, the tiny vibrations that come from dozens of Human footsteps.

Arkan takes the other direction, drawing his twin rapid-fire plasma rifles.

It seems as if the Humans are stupid enough to try and ambush us, after all.

Their loss.

“Full armor,” I snap, and the nanites of my exo-suit whirr and click, forming a helmet that protects my face. I get some relief from the harsh lights as the combat visor covers my eyes, its datafeed throwing up numbers and graphics in my vision. It tells me Human enemies approach, from both directions.

Just as we’d sensed.

I grab Jacobs’ arm and he whirls to face me, in a panic. “If you don’t want your comrades to die, get your ass up to wherever your leader is hiding and tell him to call off this death wish. Otherwise the fifty or so Human soldiers who think they’re about to get the jump on us will end up painting the walls. Don’t you know that your weapons can’t penetrate our armor? There’s nothing your soldiers can do.”

“I have nothing to do with this,” he stutters. “I swear.”

“I don’t care. Get your Station Boss down here now. I’m out of patience.”
 
I turn to my subordinate, who is now similarly decked out in full battle armor. “Kalan, fire a warning shot. You know the drill.”

“About time you decided to go hostile, general,” Kalan replies. “These Humans are just fucking around.” He steadies himself, and pulls the trigger. A loud boom follows, and screams echo down the corridor.

Jacobs looks back and forth in alarm.

“Run, Human,” I tell him. He wastes no time, scurrying off to enter an elevator.

Although the visor has dimmed the effects of the harsh lights, it hasn’t helped my pounding head at all. A small part of me wishes I could retreat to the cruiser and pop a few of the pills I normally take to help me sleep. I squash that weak, pathetic voice in disgust.

We’re running out of time, and I need results, fast.

Cold logic tells me I should kill all the approaching Humans. But death is a punishment best saved for last, when there are no other options left. I need the Humans co-operative, because I need their machinery, their resources, and their expertise.

We’re soldiers, not mechanics.

Basic military strategy dictates I should gain co-operation of the leadership first. Only once that option fails do we go on the offensive.

So I need these Humans to understand that one does not make an enemy of Kordolians.

The female soldier down in the dock understood it.

The strange female scientist I encountered in the corridor understood it.

This so-called Station Boss had better understand it. For their sake, and ours.

We need to repair our battle cruiser and get back into the wormhole before it collapses. Otherwise we’ll have to return the long way, stuck on a six-orbit long roundabout trip across the outer sectors of the nine fucking galaxies.

I don’t have time for that shit. There’s a Xargek warship floating around out there, and we need to hunt it down.

“What in Kaiin’s name is taking so long?” The pain is in both of my temples now, insistent and merciless. I’m in a mood to fight. But I need a worthy opponent, not some slow, feeble Human.

Killing these weaklings would just be a waste of plasma cartridges.

We wait, tense and ready, and the footsteps of the Human reinforcements become louder. They’re approaching.

Still, that damn Jacobs doesn’t appear. Perhaps he’s run off to hide, like a coward.

I clench my teeth in frustration. “I’m going up,” I announce, drawing my twin Callidum blades from where they’re sheathed at my back. They’re better for fighting in close quarters. There’s a staircase to the left of the elevator. I head towards it. If the Station Boss doesn’t want to come out, I’ll hunt him down. “Hold the position.”

Kalan and Arkan nod in agreement. We’ve done this sort of thing a hundred times before. As a crowd of Human soldiers converges on us from both sides, I disappear into the stairwell, taking the steps four at a time. I use the synergistic movement of the exo-suit to my advantage, passing four or five floors to reach the top of the stairs.

I figure the Station Boss will be hiding at the top. Most leaders like to position themselves high up. I’m assuming this Human won’t be any different.

Intelligent lifeforms are the same, throughout all the galaxies.

The doors at the top are sealed with some sort of security code. I stab my blade into the glowing panel on the wall, the sharpened Callidum slicing through the components with ease. A shower of sparks flies out and an alarm goes off, bathing me in red, flashing light.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

I kick the twin doors and they shudder open, sliding to reveal a dimly lit hallway.

There’s thick, plush carpet underfoot. I snort in grim amusement. It’s a wasteful, indulgent choice. As I make my way down the corridor, a faint hum causes me to turn. I raise my sword and slice through a flying drone, a shower of sparks cascading to the floor as the cut halves of the machine drop noiselessly onto the dark carpet.

In the same motion, I turn and bring my sword down through a second drone that has approached me from behind.

Sparks go everywhere, spitting onto the dark carpet. Small fires start to burn, emitting chemical smoke.

I start to run, heading for the big, ornate doors at the end of the passage. Two Human guards are stationed at the entrance, and they start firing at me with their laser weapons as I approach.

Their shots glance off my armor as if they’re nothing. I hold my blades low and close to my body as they raise their weapons for another shot.

“Don’t,” I order, running straight past them, kicking open the wide double doors. In a place where space is at a premium, they’re the old-fashioned swinging type.
 

Swinging doors. On an industrial station. Really? These Humans are crazy.

The guards fire half-heartedly after me, but my exo-suit absorbs the shocks. I pull a Callidum throwing dagger from a sheath at my thigh and flick it over my shoulder. I don’t look back. It must have done something, because the irritating firing stops.

I glance around the space I’ve entered.

Two pale, Human faces stare back at me in shock. They’re standing in the centre of a spacious room, framed by wide windows looking out onto the vast emptiness of space. Of course, one of them is Jacobs, and the one beside him must be the Station Boss.

Jacobs’ face has turned an odd shade of red. Humans have this strange thing they do when they’re upset. They change color. It happened with the female scientist too. Her cheeks turned a shade of light pink.

With Jacobs, it makes him look ridiculous. But with the female, I found it strangely endearing.

She was small and delicate and smelt incredible, a mixture of exotic blooms and fruits from far-off planets. For a moment, when I was with her, my headache disappeared.

I vanquish the memory from my mind. What a ridiculous thing to think about right now. I wonder if being around Humans is making me stupid.

“Stop right there, Kordolian!” The Station Boss takes a step forward. Unlike the soldiers we encountered in the dock, this Human looks older, his thinning hair shot through with traces of grey. The skin beneath his eyes is loose and dark, and he carries excess fat around his waist. “You are under arrest. Trespassing on sovereign Federation property is an offense.”

“Under whose jurisdiction?” I move forward, looming over the sweating Human.

“You’re on a Federation station, Kordolian. We are still governed by Earth Law. And I have two squadrons of peacekeepers on the way. You’re outnumbered. I would advise you to stand down.”

“Peacekeepers?” I stare down at him through my visor. The datafeed tells me his heart rate is high, his breathing is rapid and his temperature is rising. He’s afraid. “Your peacekeepers aren’t coming. You really think you can win a siege against a fully armed Kordolian Elite Division?”

I pick up the sound of movement behind me and realize the two guards are approaching. They think to surprise me. I pretend not to notice.

“I’m out of patience, Station Boss.” He stares in wide-eyed horror as I turn, my movements enhanced by my armor. I execute a wide slash that takes off the head of one of the guards as he raises his laser weapon at me. The second guard is frozen, unable to move. I’ve plunged my other blade into his chest. Crimson blood erupts from his lips as he falls backward onto the carpeted floor.

So Humans bleed red. Strange creatures.

“I need your co-operation, Station Boss.” I reach the fat Human’s side before he can escape. “I need access to the supplies and materials on your station, and assistance from the Humans who operate your spacecraft repair service. I’m tired, Station Boss, and for that reason, I’d rather not kill any more of your people. But if you continue to make stupid decisions, that’s what will happen. I’m offering you a choice. But you’re the one in charge, so it’s your call. Will you co-operate with us, or will you continue this stupid resistance?”

Fear. It’s one of the most useful tools in a war. The first thing we were taught in the military academy was how to instill and manipulate fear.

Create fear. Dominate. Rule.

It’s what we Kordolians do.

The Station Boss will fold. I can tell from his stance. They always do.

“W-we’ll help,” he stutters, looking at me as if I’m a monstrous Xargek. I might as well be, with my full Callidum exo-armor in place. I’m sure the battle suit was designed to intimidate, as well as provide the wearer with protection.

“Wise decision. I will send someone with a list of our requirements. If the idea of fighting us enters your thick skull again, think about what just happened to your guards.”

“Uhh,” he makes a low-pitched sound of shock, as a low boom reverberates through the walls.

“Oh, and you might want to call off your troops downstairs, before any more of them are killed.” I turn to leave, sidestepping the bodies of the two guards. As I reach the doorway, my comm buzzes.

“Rykal. What is it?”

“Uh, general, we have a problem down here.”

“What’s the problem, Rykal?”

“We just saw several Xargek larvae escaping our ship.”

I drop several colorful Kordolian expletives. “How the hell did they get on board? I thought we left them on the other side of the wormhole. Did you kill the larvae?”

“Shot three, one got away. Disappeared into a vent.”

“Get a team to scour this station. We have to find it before it grows and starts to reproduce.” I don’t really care about the fate of the Humans. But there’s no way I can allow the Xargek to survive. All it takes is one larva, and suddenly half the sector will be swarming with the creatures. And if their warship has made it into this sector, then it’s only a matter of time before they find a habitable planet.

And then, they’ll start to multiply. I can’t afford to let that happen.

Eliminate them at all costs. Those are our orders.

“Sir.” Rykal grunts in agreement, and logs off. I turn to the Station Boss, who has managed to assume position behind his desk. He’s on some kind of comm, issuing orders in another Human language. I make a slicing motion with my hand, and he cuts the communication, dropping the receiver onto his desk.

“The situation’s changed,” I inform him. “The station’s going on lockdown, as of now. Tell all Humans to return to their quarters and stay there until we’ve found and killed every single last one of those Xargek vermin. Anyone who disobeys our orders does so at their own risk. I won’t be responsible for any harm that occurs as a result.”

“Xargek?” The Station Boss’ pale eyes go wide, the color draining from his face. ‘There are Xargek on Fortuna?” His voice has dropped to a whisper.

“Lockdown,” I repeat. “Right now, we’re your only hope of survival, so don’t fuck things up.”