The Forsaken Empire (The Endervar War Book 2) (40 page)

His holographic visage came away, annoyed. He would much rather have focused on strategy and tactic than any distraction like this. As they spoke, his repair bots were inside the Defector’s juggernaut, trying to restore the vessel’s main reactor. Evidently he was close to making the juggernaut battle worthy again. His human self oversaw the effort from the hallways of the ship. Arendi noticed the hardened gaze over the man’s sharpened face. It was stiff with disgust.

I know, she replied. We have to do what’s necessary. I don’t question that.

Arendi rubbed the knuckles of her right hand. She formed a fist and pressed it into her other palm.

If I have to, I’ll end her myself, she said.

The Destroyer heard her hand smack against her other one. But even so, he could detect Arendi’s lingering hesitancy and rolled his eyes.

Still, you’d prefer to save her, wouldn’t you? he said. To capture her alive.

If it had been anyone else, the Destroyer might have scoffed or belittled. He could easily have laughed derisively and waved her away, too proud even to entertain the thought. But she was here in total seriousness. Arendi was asking for help.

And what about justice? he asked. Or even revenge. I know I feel it. Don’t act like you’re above it. I’m well aware of what humans are capable of.

The Destroyer fumed angrily. His nostrils flared. He might have appeared as a young platinum colored man, but he was old. Probably beyond old. The curmudgeon that he was refused to bow down. What of his own vendettas? He had many. The Destroyer had fought in the wars for eons.

Farcia the Endervars. They all deserve to die, he said scornfully. The reasons to punish them are endless.

His judgment was final. It was simple for him. But Arendi wasn’t so sure. She looked at him, torn but sympathetic.

Maybe that’s true, she said. But some might say you deserve the same fate.

He flinched, even though she spoke in a soft, delicate tone. The words were just too invidious to ignore. The holographic man clamped down on his perfect teeth, angry.

Arendi hadn’t meant to offend him, however. She had simply wanted to point to his past. His history was long and checkered, filled with many questionable and vile acts.

Thirty years ago you and I were enemies, she reminded him. I know it wasn’t your fault. The Unity made you into their slave. But still, you’ve killed the innocent. You’ve hurt people.

She was right, of course. It was an objective fact. Many still feared the Destroyer, including the Alliance. His notoriety had risen during the end of the Great War. Some considered him a sociopathic warmonger; others simply derided him as a machine-based freak.

The blond-haired man sealed his lips, trying to mask his sudden discomfort. But he was just an example; so was she.

Maybe I’m no different, Arendi added. According to Farcia, I’m a murderer.

It was a thought that still bothered her. The thought that she was to blame. Others might dismiss it and come up with all kinds of justifications. That she was the Savior, for example, the one who had helped lead the Alliance to victory. But Arendi preferred to face every facet of the truth. She wasn’t afraid.

We’ve been fighting this war for so long, she said. Both sides killing the other but never quite knowing the true cost. I don’t know the answer. I don’t think anyone does. I just want to try to do what’s right.

She looked up at the ceiling, thinking maybe it was futile. Her idealism could only take her so far. But even so, Arendi didn’t care for war. It was no solution; it was simply the last resort.

The Destroyer gradually understood, although it didn’t mean he agreed. Naïve, he was compelled to say. Foolish.

But he had another thought. The man harkened back to the beginning of all this and recalled the words.

Sometimes we have to make our own path, he replied.

The Destroyer loosened his stance. Any offense he might have taken was set aside. He didn’t know the answers, either. He was solemn, maybe even humbled. Despite his centuries of existence, he claimed no wisdom on the matter. Nor did he pretend to be without fault.

He was an old man. An old warrior. A dealer of death gone wrong. To destroy had been his creed.

I won’t lie. I probably do deserve to die. But I suppose I seek to change. Maybe I can.

You already have, Arendi said. You’re here, trying to help us.

The Destroyer shook his head. He wasn’t that selfless. Part of him still possessed a craving for war. Another part had a debt to repay.

I wonder what Julian would have done, he asked. He’d probably do the ˜human’ thing as well and follow his compassion and morality. Admirable, I guess. Still, I always regretted involving him in this civil war business with the Unity. He didn’t have to do that.

He just wanted to keep the galaxy safe, Arendi said.

Then he succeeded, the Destroyer replied. Our liberation is real.

He smirked. Peace, he thought. That was the new order of things. Perhaps it was time to embrace it. He rubbed his chin, thinking.

I know you want to save Farcia, he said, but I fear she may already be in great danger.

He thought of the woman and of the machine accomplice at her side. The two had moved hand in hand, attacking and conspiring. But ultimately the relationship was unnatural. The Enforcer belonged to the Unity. He was the shadow, false and conniving. Whatever allegiance they had was just an illusion.

I’ve read the records from the Defector, and I think I know who our Enforcer really is, he said.

Who? Arendi asked.

Yours truly, he replied, pointing to himself. A version of me.

She stepped back, alarmed. Her eyes were wide; she didn’t quite understand.

Jarring, I know, he said in a shrug. But the Unity once had possession over my soul. The fabric to my being was theirs to mold and shape.

Although he spoke to her as a blond-haired male, he was no such thing. In many ways he was more machine than man. His former masters had converted his mind into data, altering him to become their slave. It was a fate that many who had joined the Unity had met. Only when the Destroyer had managed to rebel had it all come crumbling down.

My masters always vowed revenge, he said. Apparently, they were breeding another enforcer. In the end, they chose me as a template. How ironic

Fight fire with fire, Arendi replied.

The blond-haired man almost laughed. He looked at the polished floor of the juggernaut’s hull and saw his reflection. My own worst enemy, he thought.

They never deployed it, however. They must have feared it might rebel or even take over, he added.

It seems he did, Arendi said. The Defector must have unleashed him. I’m guessing Farcia played a part.

The likelihood was high, although everything else was shrouded in murk. The Defector’s remaining records suggested a connection. But any details had been lost. Before she had left, Farcia had boarded a shipyard within the system, only to let it self-destruct.

Arendi had been wondering what that might mean.

Maybe she can control him, she said. That’s the only explanation.

But the Destroyer dismissed the notion. His instincts didn’t allow him to believe it.

No, he said. If he’s anything like me, then he’ll deviate from his original protocols. It’s inevitable. Farcia and her unborn child won’t be safe. Not from him.

Chapter 41

The sensation returned. It began to crawl. Farcia held her belly. The nausea grew. Her body buckled with the sudden weight. The pain trembled through her gut and into her mind. She tried to ignore and reject it. To banish it and forget it might exist. But still, the throbbing sensation twisted and turned, refusing to stop. Then it began to cry.

No, she thought. Not now.

Farcia sat in the escape pod, alone and with almost nowhere to turn. She spat on the floor as her gills shivered with bile. She scratched and pinched her knees. Her opal-like nails were eager to rip and pull. No matter how hard she tried, however, Farcia couldn’t escape; this flesh was hers. She huddled against the pod wall, afraid.

The pain sat in her stomach like a burgeoning lump. She could feel it yawn and stretch into her chest and then to her throat. It was everywhere, moving and squirming along. The mental touch yearned for more.

Farcia was silent in her panic. Her hands cupped her ears. She then closed her eyes, distancing herself, pushing everything out. She didn’t want this. Whatever it was. The sensation didn’t understand. It was blind and formless. It cried and retreated, slipping back into the tiny corner of her mind.

Why? Why now?

It should have been simple, Farcia thought. An early death and nothing more.

The old Farcia had always expected it. Her mutancy had almost made it preordained. In the year since, her symptoms had only worsened. The pain crept, and then it struck. She assumed her time was almost up. This was different, however. The agony was there, and so was something else. She thought maybe it was remnant of her the old Farcia desperate to fight back. But she was wrong. This was new. The woman shuddered at the thought. She clutched her body harder, wishing it were stone.

Out of desperation, Farcia then uttered the name. Red, she whispered.

Her plea croaked into silence. The woman thought of him, wondering what might have been. But that was a fantasy. A dream. Briefly, she had tried to love him, even in her current form. But she was an imposter. An alien entity who had claimed this body and nearly worn it out. Even if he were alive, Red would not forgive her. No one would. She was an abomination. A murderer who had willingly killed.

Farcia felt the growth in her body and had no choice but to ignore and forget it.

It didn’t matter. None of this mattered anymore. It was too late. She opened her eyes, hearing the other echo in her mind. The escape pod jolted. The craft carrying it had pulled out of warp. Her kin were signaling. The Endervar ships had done as ordered and arrived at the destination point.

Farcia pulled herself up from the floor, letting go of any reservation or regret. The sensation and all the pain fell to the side. She looked at her left arm and saw the sleeve of circuitry. The winding scales wrapped around her skin, ready to activate. The Enforcer was not far. His stronghold was in the distance. The last of the Unity was here, gathering in the night. It was time to meet and finish what they had started.

We will return, Farcia had declared. The promise made all those years ago would finally come true.

***

He sat on the machine throne, eager to play god. The Enforcer was alone, as he should have been. All other pretenders had died by his hand. He had obliterated his creators and their secret conclave. The false Unity had been swept into oblivion. Any remnant had been hunted down and eliminated from this region of space. The Enforcer had been pleased to do so. This was his creed to purify and enforce.

The bickering had been silenced. The power plays had been squelched. Authority had been consolidated into one single force, and one force alone.

It was extreme. To kill all, including anyone who chose to surrender. But the victims only had themselves to blame.

The Enforcer hadn’t always been this way. Once, he had been blind and formless. A kernel of a mind, pulled from the fabric of another. Then he had been altered. Bastardized and stripped of any soul. The Unity did as they sought fit. From the virtual mulch, a new Destroyer had emerged. This one, more ruthless, more devoted, and supposedly staunchly obedient.

His first target: his predecessor. The one known as Magnus, who had gone rogue. The deviant had rebelled, sparking a civil war. In an instant, the man had deprived the Unity of its former power. He had even shamed and embarrassed them, stealing away everything they had once held dear.

The Enforcer had been designed to correct that. He had been built to purge and assimilate any undesirable element. He could command warships, fight on the ground as a drone, and infiltrate machine systems with relative ease. He was a virtual being one that could infect and warlord over the galaxy.

But in the end, the Unity hadn’t chosen to deploy him. He had been declared too radical and too unpredictable. His creators feared a repeat of the past. Nevertheless, the Enforcer had still seen the light of day. He had been altered one final time. The purge protocol had been activated. His new target: the Unity itself. He took great pleasure in that. The Enforcer killed them all with brutal efficiency. In one slaughter after another, he assimilated their secrets and knowledge, all the while vowing to restore the Unity to its truest form. He had no tolerance for anything else. The clandestine group had outlived its usefulness. It was old and feeble. It needed to die. The programming within told him so.

It was only after some time that the Enforcer truly awakened. He very quickly evolved and realized he was just a puppet. A pawn for another struggle. Although he was no longer blind or formless, his every waking moment was devoted to her. To this woman. The protocols binding his mind and machine spirit had demanded it.

Farcia, he said, feeling the old shackles surround him.

The Enforcer rose from the shadows. He had not expected this. Apparently, she was still alive. Farcia arrived at his stronghold, assuming nothing had changed. The old codes from her sleeve transmitted into the darkness, attempting to tame and control him. The Enforcer walked on, immune. He was a slave no more. The old codes had failed to keep pace. The machine that he was had evolved; it had learned to bend and shape the rules.

In reality, this whole plan was his. In the guise of a faithful servant, the Enforcer had whispered each and every step. It had begun with the hunt for the Gateway technology. Then it had escalated with the full-scale attack of the Alliance. Now it would end, with his vision for the future. The shackles had broken, but Farcia was unaware of it. The Enforcer had allowed the charade to continue as a way to manipulate and use her. For years it had been that way the master assuming she had control when she didn’t.

Enforcer, she said, entering into the mother ship.