Dark Planet Warriors: The Serial (Books 1-3) (7 page)

It hurts. I can’t move my legs and I’m looking up to see the skydome covered over by the emergency shutters, the sunlight shut out. I’m surrounded by something sticky and warm. Is that my own blood?

It’s gone dark. I can barely see, but something large and warm squeezes my hand.
 

It’s the General. I can’t believe he’s here, bending over me like this, all his hardness and arrogance gone.

There’s something about falling off a hundred foot ladder that invokes sympathy, I guess.

His palm is rough and callused, and it completely engulfs my hand, but it’s warm.

At least these Kordolians aren’t cold-blooded.

I try to move, but he puts a firm hand on my shoulder. Something’s seriously wrong. The pain is so bad it’s almost not painful anymore, if that’s even possible. At least my legs actually hurt. I read somewhere that if you’re really paralyzed you don’t feel pain anymore. I don’t know if that’s true.

It feels as if my legs are broken in a hundred places.

“Don’t move.” The General’s deep voice reaches me through a fog of agony. I bite my lower lip and nod, trying to reassure him that I’m fine, but my vision’s starting to go blurry, and his pale, alien features start to become distorted. Even when he’s trying to be nice, he’s still bossy.

He
is
a General, though. Bossy is in the job description.

What a stupid thought to be having right now. I might actually not survive this.

Did I just think that? No way. I can’t afford to not survive. I refuse to die.

Especially because of an oversized cockroach. I am
not
having ‘killed by a cockroach’ on my obituary.

I can’t believe this has happened. I guess they’re right when they say anything can happen in deep space.

The General’s saying something, but I can’t quite make out the words. I close my eyes. Everything’s going black.

It would be nice to just sleep right now.

There are lots of voices now. I can’t move. I’m floating on a cloud of pain. This really sucks. This morning I was having coffee above the dock. Now, I’m lying here with my legs smashed to bits, after being attacked by a terrifying alien insect.

And another alien is holding my hand. His hand is warm. Rough and warm.

I force my eyes open again. It’s an effort to stay awake. His face swims into view. I see deep red eyes. He’s staring at me with a strange expression. I can’t concentrate. I can’t understand anything.
 

Lots of voices swarm around me. They’re speaking another language. Kordolian? I don’t understand anything. The General sounds really fired up now, barking orders at them.

Hands are on me. Gloved hands, pressing something cool and sticky onto my injuries. Sticking something into a vein in my hand. There’s no pain anymore.

I try to speak, try to open my mouth, but nothing’s happening.
 

Hands are all over me, sliding me onto what I think is a hover-stretcher.
 
It floats upwards, and then we’re moving. I twist and try to see what’s happening. My eyes flutter open and closed, revealing glimpses of the brightly-lit service corridor. We’re moving fast.

Others have joined the General now. Kordolians? I’m hooked up to something, and whatever they’ve put on my legs has stopped the bleeding, I think.

The pain’s becoming less, too.

The lights are too bright. I’m floating in and out of consciousness.

Everything’s dark now, and there’s nothing I can do except let these strange aliens take me away as everything fades to black.

Tarak

As Zyara raises the hover stretcher with the help of the yellow-haired Human female, Abbey floats in and out of consciousness, now connected to lines and monitors. I glance at her, noting the paleness of her skin. The pink flush to her cheeks is gone, and the delicate skin around her eyes appears grey.
 

A flicker of movement at the edge of my vision catches my attention, and I turn.

It’s the Xargek. It’s round abdomen writhes and pulsates, and I curse in frustration. I pull out a plasma gun and run over to it, firing at its mangled body.
 

“Rykal,” I yell. “Burn it! It’s about to spill its larvae.”

“On it, boss.” He leaves Zyara’s side and pulls a plasma cannon, setting it to incinerate. I step out of the way as a great blue flare of energy engulfs the Xargek’s corpse.

The smell of burning chitin rises from it, as a swarm of tiny, skittering creatures scatters across the floor. I fire at them, but they disperse like a cloud, disappearing into the vegetation.

“Fuck,” I growl. The Xargek, in a final, irritating act of defiance, has released its offspring. They’re going to be almost impossible to find until they’ve grown larger.
 

I will not abandon this station until we’ve found and killed each and every one of them. It’s not for the Humans that I’m doing it. It’s for the entire nine galaxies. For the Kordolian empire. We cannot allow the Xargek to gain a foothold in any sector.

And the Humans can’t defend against them on their own. They’re weak.

I activate my comm. “First Division,” I snap, “be aware that our little Xargek problem has now increased by a factor of a hundred. Be alert and exterminate. I want all of them destroyed before we leave this station. As usual, eliminate at all costs. But try not to kill too many Humans in the process. I don’t want to deal with another fucking inquiry from Interspecies Relations.”

Several Kordolian voices filter through my receiver, answering in the affirmative. Satisfied, I turn to Zyara and the Human, who are maneuvering the hover-stretcher away from the scene of destruction. Behind us, the Xargek’s foul-smelling, yellow blood seeps across the floor, vapor rising it as it burns the surface.

We brought them here. Now we have to take care of the problem.

“Our medical bay is this way.” The Human soldier takes the lead, but I hold up a hand.

“No. She comes with us.”

“General?” Zyara’s orange eyes grow wide. “To the ship? But she’s Human.”

Ignoring her, I turn to the female soldier. “Look at her,” I order. “And answer truthfully. Will your Human medicine be able to restore her?”

A look of intense discomfort crosses the Human’s face as she looks down at Abbey’s injuries. “I’m no doctor, General, but I’ve seen injuries like that before. They’ll patch her up here, but she needs to go back to Earth. The trip will take its toll. If she’s lucky, she’ll hold out.”

“Not good enough.” I try to keep the disdain from creeping into my voice. Are these Humans so primitive that they can only provide basic medical care on their outposts? “She comes with us.”

Zyara shoots me a questioning look, but keeps her mouth shut. She knows my word is absolute.
 

I leave Rykal hunting Xargek larvae in the bushes as we escort Abbey towards the docking bay. Zyara’s given her a painkiller, and she’s drifted off to sleep. She must be in agony, but never once did she complain.
 

She may have a weak body, but inside she’s tough. What a shame she wasn’t born Kordolian. She would have made a perfect mate.

As we reach
Silence,
one of the Human mechanics breaks ranks and rushes over to us. I hold the dark-haired female back with one hand, and she flails about desperately. “Stand down,” I tell her. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“She’s my friend,” the Human gasps. “What the fuck have you done to her? Oh my God, Abbey!”

But Abbey’s unresponsive, which seems to work her friend into more of a frenzy. “Let go of me, you asshole!”
 
She says something in some Human language that sounds suspiciously like curse-words. I hold her back with ease, her movements ineffective. She tries to scratch me, but her blows glance off my armor as if they were water.

“Calm down, female.” I grab both of her arms. She stills immediately, and I sense her fear. “Or I’ll have you restrained.” I try to soften my tone. “We aren’t going to hurt her. She’s injured and I can help her.”

“Why would
you
want to help her?”

“You ask too many questions, Human. Get out of the way.” I hold her back as Zyara passes with Abbey on the stretcher. Still the small woman struggles, even though she knows she’s no match for me.

I’ve come to the conclusion that all Human females are crazy.

“Don’t you tell me to get out of the way,” she snarls. “That’s my friend. You at least owe me an explanation.”

“No, I don’t.” I glance at her uniform, which is stained with grease. “You’re a mechanic?”

“What’s it to you?” Her dark eyes are full of hostility.

“How long until the hull repairs are complete?”

She shakes her head in disbelief. “I’m not telling you anything until you tell me what you’re planning to do with Abbey.”

“I’m taking her to my planet for treatment.”

“Why can’t you just take her to Earth?”

“We will be traveling on emergency oxygen. Through a wormhole. There isn’t enough to sustain a detour to Earth and get us back in a single trip.” Not to mention there’s no way I’m landing on a planet full of potential hostiles without the Kordolian Fleet to back me up. I release the mechanic’s wrists once she stops resisting. She makes a face and rubs them. “Again I’ll ask. How long until the hull is serviceable?”

“You’re really taking her to your planet? Won’t she be in danger? You people aren’t the most welcoming bunch, from what I’ve heard.”

I glare at her. “They won’t try anything. Not if she’s with me.”

“How can I trust you?”

I start to grow impatient. “Human, the longer you waste time here, the longer it will be until your friend receives treatment. Answer my question or get out of the way.”

She looks at me for a moment, as if weighing up whether she can trust me. I don’t really care. If she won’t give me the information I need, I’ll find another Human. One with sense.

Eventually, she pushes her hands into her pockets and sighs. “We’ve got one more patch to do, then she’ll be serviceable. Obviously, you’ll want to do permanent repairs when you get her back to your planet. But she’ll be good for at least ten revolutions.” She narrows her eyes. “You better take care of her, General. Or I’ll be coming after you.”

It’s an idle threat, but I have to admire her loyalty to her friend. “She’s my responsibility now, Mechanic. And I don’t take my responsibilities lightly.”

Abbey

I must have been out for some time. Stuff must have happened. Because when I come to, I’m floating.

“What the?” I try to yell, but my voice comes out as a hollow echo. I can instantly see why, and I squirm, my arms flailing about in the water.

I’m floating. I’m in a tank of sorts, with lines and monitors hooked up to me. It’s cold. That’s the first thing I notice. It’s freezing, and the chill seeps right through me. I’m suspended and trussed up like an experimental guinea pig in a lab.

Over my face is a sleek, clear helmet, supplying fresh air and allowing me to see.

“Ahh.” I let out a strangled whimper, a sound of shock. What the hell have these Kordolians done to me?

My legs are all wrapped up in some kind of clear flexible outer coating. The pain’s gone, and I can move them very slightly. But I don’t dare. If my memory’s correct, they’re smashed to bits.

Is this the part where the doctor comes and tells me I won’t walk unless I get prosthetic legs? The waiting list for a pair of decent cybernetic legs is years, unless one can find a very generous donor.

The icy liquid surrounding me isn’t water, like I first thought. It’s a bit more viscous, and it has a bluish tinge to it. I’m suspended vertically, staring out at the world through a blue filter.

I look beyond the tank, taking in my surroundings. We’re not in the Station medical bay, that’s for sure. This has to be the Kordolian ship. I’ve never seen anything like this before. The walls are black, and the space is dimly lit, with hundreds of tiny, luminous blue lights casting a gentle glow around the space. Shadows gather in the corners, and the room is oddly shaped. Instead of straight lines and corners, it’s kind of curved, the walls following some organic pattern.

I feel as if I’m floating in a tank that’s inside an earthy cave, cocooned in layers of darkness.

The size of the tank I’m suspended in reminds me this thing is designed for much larger beings. Kordolians. I’m a Human, and they’re trying to treat me with their Kordolian medicine. Do they even know what works on Humans? I can’t imagine what they’d do to fix my legs.

And do they know that I’m fucking freezing right now?

But despite the cold being so unpleasant, I’m not shivering. That’s strange. I usually break out in goosebumps and shivers at the first trace of cold.

“General,” I yell, my voice muffled by the helmet. My breath mists up the transparent faceplate. “What the hell have you done to me?”

Nothing. An uneasy feeling starts to work its way into my gut. I’m totally helpless, and I have no idea what’s going on. I’m at the mercy of these aliens.

The hundreds of little blue lights blink, and all is silent, save for the low hum of machinery in the background.

I can’t even swim in this viscous blue liquid, because my legs won’t move properly. And I don’t want to try, because I know I have broken bones. I’m surprised I’m even able to flail about a little, considering I’ve jumped off a hundred foot high ladder.

Right now I’m cold and alone and feeling a little bit afraid.

“General,” I yell again. I realize I don’t even know his name. I think I told him mine. I can barely remember.

Shadowy movement at the edge of my vision tells me there’s someone else in the room. “General Tarak is busy right now. You need to calm down.”

It’s a female voice. She speaks perfect, barely accented Universal. Her calm voice reaches me through what appear to be little speakers in my underwater helmet.

I blink as she steps into the glow of the tank. She’s definitely Kordolian. She’s tall, like the others, with long, lilac hair tied up in a sleek ponytail. She’s got the same pointed ears and razor sharp cheekbones and silvery skin. But instead of that freaky living armor, she wears flowing white robes.