The Forsaken Empire (The Endervar War Book 2) (16 page)

Arendi accessed the medical report near his bed. As it transferred into her artificial mind, she read over the preliminary diagnosis.

Severe mental trauma, she muttered. Evidence of a complete memory wipe.

In essence, Red was still dead. He knew nothing of himself or how to speak or communicate. She looked at him and saw an empty vessel. The man inside was gone.

Red she whispered. You shouldn’t have done that. I told you not to.

Arendi recalled those last moments. He had wanted to help and had bravely risked his life to do so. He must have felt it was necessary, but unfortunately his effort had been for naught.

She looked at him now and saw the colors in his face. The prism across his skin had dulled; the grays and whites were overshadowing any of the former glow. Arendi took a nearby cloth and wiped the drool from his cheeks. She then found a chair and sat at his side.

She wondered what to do next. Red’s people were on the other end of the galaxy, out of typical communication range. She’d need to send a courier to message them with the hope that they could help. But with the new war breaking out, she wasn’t sure how or when any of this might happen. For now, there was little else to do for him. All she could do was make one last attempt.

Arendi pulled the gold coin out of her jacket pocket and held it between her fingers. She carefully opened the locket and placed it in front of Red.

The picture inside was of her. An image of Farcia was etched into the brass.

Do you remember? she asked. You came all this way, just to find her.

Arendi failed to notice the youth in the picture. To her, Farcia was just a faceless woman, devoid of expression. She took the locket and desperately placed it closer to his eyes. If there was anything that Red might remember, it would be Farcia.

There was no change. The man failed to see it. His eyes and face were vacant, unaware of the image. He experienced nothing. Not even pain. Arendi felt it, however. She sniffed and pulled her hand away.

The locket was among the surviving pieces found on the Kinnison. It was once considered evidence and had been stored securely in the ship’s lockers. Red had never talked about it before, but Arendi knew it must be important. She grasped the locket’s chain and carefully placed it around his neck.

Here, she whispered. Be with her the way you want to remember her.

It was the only comfort she could give him. The real Farcia was clearly someone else now. To Arendi, the woman was a target and a dangerous threat and nothing more.

Red continued vacantly staring up at the ceiling. He was oblivious to all that she said. His search was over, and he had found Farcia only to lose everything.

Chapter 16

The ensign floated in the cold. Her gold-and-black hair was encrusted in ice. Like all the others, she was being stored in freezing temperatures. The young officer lay there in the stasis pod, dead and idle.

Many of the deceased were being kept in the area. The cargo hold was filled with them corpses preserved cryogenically. Just in this one transport alone, there were hundreds of bodies, some of them maimed beyond recognition. The ensign joined them in this makeshift morgue, waiting to be revived. Her own individual pod was nestled against the wall, the front surface covered in glass.

Watching the ensign was a human female with hair just as gold. She approached the pod in silence, fearful and holding her breath. The ice was thick, but so were the scars. The burns had scorched the ensign’s skin and gnarled her chin and cheek. Clearly, extensive surgery would be needed to repair the damage. But despite the wounds, the woman recognized the ensign’s face. This was her daughter, after all. Even now, the resemblance between the two was almost uncanny.

For a moment, the mother saw a near mirror of herself, shrouded in rime. She touched the glass and then tried going further. Like her daughter, she was a telepath, but she was far more adept. Four hundred years of life had taught her to hone her power and to sense the mind and all its tendencies.

The mother knew, however, that she would feel nothing. The whole room was vacant of organic thought, along with any sound. She simply had to wait and hope that revival would come. In another few hours, the vessel would leave Vellanar and depart for a facility devoted to saving the dead. Placing her hand against the pod, the mother imagined her daughter’s pain but also her warmth and her resolve.

she said, proudly.

The mother spoke through her artificial implants. With each word, the lines across her face glowed, and the air around her hummed. Her instinct was to mourn, and so she did, opening her lips but saying nothing. Wiping her eyes, she pulled away from the pod. The silence in the dimly lit room had abruptly lifted. Behind her, the echo began to drum.

The entrance to the cargo hold was opening. Then a clatter of footsteps hastily tapped on the floor.

The mother sensed no sentient thought, but very soon she heard her name.

Alysdeon, the voice said. The tone was familiar, and naturally the mother had to smile. She turned to the entrance, comforted by her company. Arendi, a cherished friend, had arrived. She was also now a mentor to her daughter, and the two embraced as they met in the cargo hold.

Alysdeon said, all the while remaining mute. To synthesize words, she spoke out loud through the audio implants in her cheeks.

For them, this was a reunion of sorts. They had known each other for thirty years, but lately both had been engrossed in missions of their own.

All that had been set aside, for now at least.

I am so sorry. This is all my fault. I failed to protect her.

Arendi was grief-stricken as she timidly approached. Her face shook with each word, and she could barely look back. Alysdeon, however, tried to brush aside the younger woman’s worries. She placed her arms around Arendi, hugging her old friend.

Alysdeon held her tight, needing the embrace. But for Arendi, forgiveness was not enough.

No. I put your daughter in danger.

She let go, awash in guilt. Out of the corner of her eye, Arendi could see the dead ensign, held in stasis. It also didn’t help that Alysdeon looked almost exactly like her daughter. Thirty years had passed, and still the New Terran woman hadn’t aged a day.

Arendi reluctantly glanced at her genetically engineered friend. She was tall, and her face was ever youthful, very much like Justice’s. It forced Arendi to remember the ensign’s death. She shivered, sensing blood on her hands.

I failed miserably. Everything went wrong.

For her, it was easy to recall the carnage. An entire world had been killed in an instant, the sky set ablaze. Arendi didn’t wish to dwell on it, but with Alysdeon here, she recalled all her mistakes and wished she had done more.

Onatagias is dead and I couldn’t stop them.

Alysdeon came to her friend, hoping to provide some relief. There was perhaps none to give, but still she tried.

She raised her right hand and placed it under the light. It was covered in tiles of medical bandages, and the arm still ached.

What happened? Arendi asked.

she said, flexing her tender hand.

Three days ago, Alysdeon had also joined in the fighting. Her people, the New Terrans, had deployed ships to defend human colonies, including the planet of Haven. The fighting, however, had been fierce, and her fleet had come under heavy enemy fire while trying to protect territory over two hundred light-years away.

Damage across the craft had been severe, and the Davinity had been forced out of the action. Alysdeon massaged her arm, as the nanomachines under the bandages continued to rebuild the skin.

I’m just glad you’re safe, Arendi said. I don’t want to lose anyone else.

Arendi nodded. She had seen the assessment. Although the ensign was dead, her chances for a complete revival were measured at over 98 percent. The processing would take time, but at least the young officer would live again.

Knowing this, Arendi came to the stasis pod.

Your daughter fought valiantly, she said. You should be proud.

No, Arendi said, sighing. I don’t even know what I’m doing sometimes.

She glanced at the pod and saw the ensign. They had served together over the last year, but Arendi had known the young officer ever since she was child.

I wasn’t always sure how to act around her, Arendi admitted. She was like family to me. This young girl, now a woman. But I tried to keep things professional. Tried to teach her as much as I could.

Alysdeon placed her hand on Arendi’s shoulder, glad.

Really?

As she spoke, Alysdeon beamed with genuine affection for all that Arendi had done.

Arendi nearly scoffed. It was true she was among the elite and one of the few humans ever to achieve that status but she had never thought of it that way.

I am no one, she said, trying to ignore the praise. I’m just trying to do what’s right. If only it was so easy

She took a deep breath and walked a step closer to the pod. The dead ensign was only inches away now.

Alysdeon urged.

She was right, of course, and Arendi knew it. Still, she felt the sting in her chest and tried to breathe.

Justice. I miss her already, she replied, placing her hand on the pod. Slowly, she wiped away the frost from the glass. Your daughter is smart, she continued. So resourceful and always so brave. Just like her mother.

It was a remark that elicited a smile from Alysdeon. She raised her head and squinted back. For a moment, her artificially enhanced eyes flashed violet.

The four-hundred-year-old woman saluted, raising her arm across her chest. She herself was clad in a black officer’s uniform, and, despite her injury, Alysdeon was more than ready to serve.

Upon hearing the question, Arendi fell silent. Alysdeon wasn’t aware of it, but the question touched on another loss that the two friends happened to share.

Arendi uttered the name with a gasp, feeling the pain.

Julian, she said. Farcia knows what happened to Julian.

Chapter 17

Much had changed in the thirty years they had known each other. A new era had dawned and along with it, a new sense of duty.

Arendi, for instance, was no longer just an android from a distant Earth. She was one of several operatives working on behalf of the Alliance. These so-called Sentinels were few in number, but they were dispatched to face the most difficult missions and to protect the galaxy’s newfound peace. She had operated in this role for years now hunting down criminals and intervening in the occasional galactic dispute to become a decorated member in her own right.

As for Alysdeon, the four-hundred-year-old woman had borne another child. And for a time, she had even returned to her position as the Sovereign, or leader, of the Terran remnant. The Great War had scattered humanity across the galaxy, and so a new government was needed to reunite them. Alysdeon had since stepped down from that demanding, and at times taxing, role. She had instead sought to pursue matters of more historical interest and had lately been traveling the stars.

But perhaps the most personal change was a loss that had occurred twenty-one years earlier.

Both Arendi and Alysdeon had known the man well. He was a pilot named Julian Nverson a dear mutual friend. Together, the three comrades had fought the Endervars, turning the tide in the Great War.

Julian, however, was now gone. The man was presumed dead.

The mystery had lingered over the decades. An entire fleet of Alliance ships manned by three thousand veteran officers had been sent on a secret mission in the midst of another, separate, war.

Julian had been among them. He and the rest of the confidential strike force had traveled to the other end of the galaxy, only to disappear.

Despite all the ongoing search efforts, their last location was still unknown. The powerful fleet had traveled far. So far that all the associated ships had been out of communication range. Any buoys left behind had reported nothing out of the ordinary. In fact, there was no evidence to explain their fate.

We’ve still found no wreckage, Arendi explained. All this time, and there’s still nothing.

Like everyone else, she had been forced to accept the loss. Admittedly, it was a change she had sought to resist. There had been no closure. No way to verify whether Julian was even dead. Only with great reluctance had she finally accepted the probable fact. That the man had been killed in action.

But now we have this, she said, accessing the data. It was a new clue, which had put everything into question.