Nova (7 page)

CHAPTER 5

The brightness of dawn’s radiance seeping into the small,
bare room did little to lighten K’llan Z’arr’s mood as she reflected on the
night’s events. She could feel, deep in her bones, that something was off about
her mission, and that something was steeped in dreadful implication.

The slim Vosaia found herself pacing the dingy confines of
her rented room in the Amren Sector, agitation pushing her to some sort of
physical release from nagging anxiety. Aside from the fact that no one should
have even been aware of her meeting with the Irdoi information broker, the
presence of her pursuer was what was most off.

Replaying each nuance of every moment within Revenant, the
chase, and their meeting, K’llan knew that her tracker was neither just an
opportunistic mercenary out for some ready money, nor a criminal trying to
obtain a valuable asset.

“Captain
Avara Serros, Quorum Strategic High Risk,
Intelligence, and Enforcement Operative. By the Authority of the Quorum,
Consulate, and Ministry, you are to surrender yourself into my custody and
await charges.”

Z’arr repeated those words in her mind, felt again the quiet
yet certain sincerity and genuine authority in that silken alto. The Vosaia
also reviewed the nuances of the chase, appraising the woman’s skill and combat
training, yes, but also the incredible speed, accuracy, and physical strength
that could only equate to a single truth. Not only was this Captain Serros an
Arca, but an extremely high–leveled Arca, a V at the least.

No, Captain Serros
was
a Quorum Shield Operative. And
she believed it was her job to bring K’llan in before the Quorum. Almost as if the
Human was standing a breath away, here and now as light overtook darkness, K’llan
could see the mix of startling calm and passionate determination that rippled
in those kobalt–bright eyes.

With practiced resolve, the Vosaia shook away a shiver of
fear, sat down on the rented room’s faded carpet, and began to punch queries on
her Cognitive Processing Assistant, the holographic keyboard projected before
her rather than directly at her forearm.

It was going to be a very long day until she was to fulfill
her duty and meet Proconsul Far’allyn Tanad and make the Arca Microtech drop. Not
only was her mission in jeopardy, but she feared that it had somehow been compromised
before she had been given the assignment. With the appearance of a Quorum Shield,
misguided though she must be, Lieutenant K’llan Z’arr’s job just got a lot more
difficult, and it was time to get to work.

 * * * * *

The Adrenix factory was somewhat of an anomaly on Ophere,
for the surface–face of the buildings that made up the production compound was
a bright, almost painfully clean white and transparent sky–blue, reminiscent of
the Quorum capital of Sigil rather than most of Ophere’s black and steel
cityscape. The color of the buildings stood in stark contrast to the smoky night
sky, especially given the number of mellow lights that were kept permanently running
both in and outside of the structures as the night crew went about their labor.

The complex was owned and operated by Medex, the galaxy’s
premier producer of synthepatches, medibots, Salu–Salve, medical instruments,
and of course, Adrenix. Even though the company’s main headquarters was located
on Sigil, it was this factory that focused on producing a great portion of the
lattermost product for the company.

As they knew from Odass that the meet would take place in
one of the squat, adjacent processing and packaging buildings of the Adrenix production
compound, Nova Squad and Major Hadarr were situated on the rooftop of another
structure located at six o’ clock from their target.

Though they were all fully armed and wearing their silvery–steel
and royal blue suits of heavy–armor, each of the six were completely concealed
by camo–mods built into their armor that projected the image of their immediate
surroundings; in this case, black rooftops. The camouflage would fail as soon
as they moved of course, but for now, the tech meant that the squad was
completely protected from visual scanning.

“Captain, I see a contingent of what appears to be armed personnel
at position eleven; they don’t look like standard mercs to me.” Lieutenant Rygel
reported quietly over the Squad’s active Comm channel.

“Copy that.” Captain Serros replied, moving her own scope to
the position the
Excalibur’s
Senior Communication’s Officer and the Squad’s
most accomplished sniper had indicated.

A fraction of a tic later, the Captain spotted the group, approximately
twenty in number. Given their rather sophisticated, if deliberately plain, arms
and armor and the professional manner in which individuals carried themselves,
Serros could immediately understand why Rygel didn’t think they were guns for
hire. At first glance, they appeared to be the compact height of Fosaki, with
wide–shoulders and barreled frames, with not a single one reaching higher than
five and a half feet in height.

Still, height and build was no guarantee of identity and can
easily be feigned, especially in heavy–armor. Even gender was not distinguishable
in the deliberately identical and plain battle–mail each wore, unusually so. Captain
Serros also found it more than a little suspicious that features were
impossible to distinguish because, despite it being the dark of night, the
entire group currently wore activated helmets with tinted visors. Most
interesting, one of the group
wasn’t
helmed or wearing heavy–armor. In
the center front was a Vosaia female with short silvery hair wearing a gray and
black skinsuit armed with a pistol.

“By their armor, they could be anyone, and note the Vosaia. Lieutenant
Rygel, please record. The Quorum will want to know.”

“Aye, Captain. Another traitor, do you think?”

“I… I think I know the Vosaia. I believe she is Proconsul
Far’allyn Tanad.” Hadarr announced, her normally emotionless voice holding a discernable
note of surprise.

“
Damn
. There is
definitely
more going on than
we are aware of. What is a Vosaia Proconsul doing with soldiers attempting to
look like disguised Fosaki Elites?” Serros queried.

“I don’t know.” Hadarr admitted.

“I’d say the obvious answer is that they are
not
Fosaki.” Serros mused out loud.

“Still no sign of Z’arr.” Lieutenant Naxos commented. Avara
could hear the Braxien’s voice hum with the suppressed tension and excitement of
the hunt.

“Okay team, capture rather than kill just became even more
important for both Z’arr and the Vosaia Proconsul. Stay focused and stay alert;
revert to silence until the drop.” The Captain ordered quietly.

A few minutes later, a set of four factory guards let the
group of unadorned, gray–armored unknowns pass into the inner courtyard with
only a brief nod;
after
the Vosaia handed several bills to the lead guard.
A prearranged bribe. They then moved into the plaza and the unidentified soldiers
efficiently positioned themselves at the top of a dais–like, broad white–stone
step–way by a leaping fountain. Huge hourglass shaped planters surrounded the fountain,
with the containers’ slender birch trees happily piercing the night sky,
pushing towards the sleeping sun.

Tactical mind firing like mad, Avara noted that it was an
unusual move, for the position that the unknowns had chosen was anything but
secure or defensible.

Bit of a leap of faith there. Probably part of a pre–arrangement
.

The soldiers had formed themselves into a semi–circular
pattern around the Vosaia official and another soldier, obviously the group’s commander
by the black–hash marks on his shoulder–plate, the only such of the entire
group to possess any rank insignia whatsoever. A different soldier then keyed
several commands into his or her CPA and then suddenly, there was a shower of
electric sparks in the courtyard. Extending the range of her vision, Serros was
able to spot the source of the electric flashes fairly quickly. All of the
security cameras on the premises. Though she couldn’t see Lieutenant Dane Rygel,
sensing a silent emotional snarl of frustration, Serros turned to look at the
position that the Captain knew her communications officer and technical wizard
was located.

The unknowns had managed to disable
their
cameras as
well.

The minutes kept dragging like an antiquated clock winding
down towards the end of its life–cycle until at least an hour had passed, and
still Lieutenant K’llan Z’arr had yet to arrive. Mech–like, each of the unknown
soldiers had, without a single twitch, held the exact same position the entire
time. The dearth of action was almost unnerving in the lack of humanity it
represented, giving credence to the possibility that they were indeed Fosaki.

Though originally a fully organic species, over the last
millennium, the Fosaki had gradually yet systematically added synthetic
enhancements to their people until truly, much of what was once organic–sentience
had changed into a fusion of organic and synthetic. Culturally, the Fosaki
believed that such an amalgamation was the highest expression of life,
surpassing any purely organic or synthetic form of sentience.

If
the unknowns standing quietly below
were
Fosaki, the threat to all the Quorum Systems was substantial; one only had to
think of the fate of the Ty–Lin race to grasp that danger. After a relatively
minor territorial dispute had broken out between the Fosaki and the Ty–Lin, the
Fosaki had methodically annexed or destroyed every last sector of Ty–Lin space.
Even worse, with machine–like systemization, genetic material had been
harvested and then the captured Ty–Lin people were rounded up and executed. The
genocide of an entire race accomplished in little over fifteen years.

Still, in many ways, the Fosaki were a threat from by–gone
days. As long as their sovereign space was respected, they seemed
more
than
content
to focus on their own view of perfect society, untainted by
inherent chaos that pure organics perpetrated wherever they ventured. No,
Captain Serros was much less concerned with Fosaki–boogeyman than the very real
and living threat the Karukai Imperium represented, especially given the Dark
Reach Wars that had devastated billions only two brief human generations ago. Not
to mention the smaller scale, yet no less vicious and much more recent Karukai–Human
conflict, the Margrom War.

To again have open, intergalactic warfare break out with
the Karukai, especially with the Quorum so unprepared…

The implications were as terrifying as Karukai preparedness
and intent were obfuscated. Pierced by vivid flashes of Margrom War, Captain Avara
Serros had to consciously loosen her grip on her AR, file those feelings away
for another day, and push herself to focus on the moment and on the mission
alone.

The Captain’s effort was aided when less than ten minutes
later, her gaze snapped to a flash of bright royal blue and Lieutenant K’llan
Z’arr came into sight. Through the sniper–scope of her Warlock L5, Serros could
clearly see that like herself and Hadarr, this time their target also wore full
battle armor, the hue a matte black with pale blue markings. Her thick hair was
tied back into three tight buns set to rest at the base of her neck. At her
waist was what Serros comfortably identified as a Gladiator Rubex GHT6
Adaptable Pistol/SMG; on her back was a Zadex Widowmaker IV.

Lieutenant Z’arr moved tranquilly, in full view of the unknowns
and the single Vosaia among them, stopping before the others by a dozen or so
paces. Yet despite her calm demeanor, Serros could somehow sense that the
projected air of ease was a façade, and that the Vosaia STF was anything but serene.

A shiver shot through the Quorum Shield’s body like a slap
as she realized that
something
was about to happen, and years of battle
experience had taught Avara Serros to accept the warning, even if she couldn’t
quantify the feeling. With a deep breath, Serros again found her center and
extended her SP Arca enhanced hearing to capture the words being exchanged
below.

“Agent Z’arr. A pleasure to see you again.” The short haired
Vosaia greeted cordially in Avenos, the Vosaia language. Her tone held all the
graciousness that only a career politician, or possibly a professional card
shark, can project.

“And you, Proconsul Tanad.” Z’arr responded in the same
tongue with a deferential incline of her head.

“I assume because we are standing here you have the
package?” The Proconsul inquired, dark eyes clear.

“It is in my possession, Proconsul. I only require a print and
voice ID to certify authorization.”

“Of course, Agent Z’arr.” The woman answered, then turned to
her right. “Tedrar, if you will.” The helmed unknown that Avara had marked
earlier as the unit’s commander nodded and then without a word, walked towards Lieutenant
Z’arr. When the commander reached the STF Agent, the soldier simply held out a
hand, again without utterance.