The Forsaken Empire (The Endervar War Book 2) (45 page)

The plasma shot fired. The rival drone, the enemy’s proxy, self-destructed. The entire computing room and any chance to stop the conflict quickly burst into flames. The room simmered and became ash.

Chapter 46

The blaster shots crisscrossed and burned through the central domain. The Enforcer was attempting to make a stand. His drones had taken position at various points around the inner lair. The labyrinth and its maze of corridors were rampant with enemy contacts. The resulting scattershot of energy scorched like an aimless bombardment. The blinding ammunition blew away pillars of hull and shadow, along with anything that might fight back.

Arendi moved in and out of the barrage; she was in no way afraid. Human eyes would only have seen a blur venturing across the flash. But Arendi was running. Her feet sent her body accelerating, beyond any normal physical limits. Her artificial muscles pumped; her legs became a machine piston. Every system was pushed to the brink. She bolted from the floor to the wall and even to the ceiling, all in an effort to attack with precise but maximum devastation.

Her new fist the mechanical claw flew. She slammed it into the enemy contact. The knuckle hammered into the drone’s chest plate, and its armor crumpled like paper.

She clotheslined another and let her other hand drop the foe. The spatial shielding at her wrist activated and rotted the machine metal. The enemy firing squad began to wither. In seconds she saw the first wave of targets topple. The machines and their guns fell over, rumbling to the floor.

Alysdeon was only a few feet away. She sank her sword into an enemy’s head, then stabbed into its power supply.

Almost there, Arendi said.

They moved fleet-footed through the corridors. The Destroyer’s strike force was outlining the targets and providing protection. The seven-foot machine troopers had scouted out the positions and deployed force-field emitters to block any incoming fire.

Arendi quickened her step. Her hands were ready to tear anything apart. Both the objective and the enemy were in her machine sights. She could already feel the oxygen and the heavier gravity emanate over the area.

The Enforcer, however, continued to try to fire his weapons. Arendi noticed the incoming salvo, and she saw a pair of enemy drones preparing to launch their own counterattack.

Arendi and Alysdeon flanked them, crashing against the targets. Sword and bare hand sliced and smashed the robotic frames. Their combined force punctured the enemy force field only to demolish the circuitry inside the drones. Arendi felt and heard the crunch. Her foot had stepped through the spine of one of the machines.

Farcia, she whispered, where are you?

Arendi took off, moving deeper into the area. Her scans were searching for any signs of life. She saw enemy after enemy and then blaster fire lash out, but nothing else. Arendi ran through it all, tempted to vaporize the entire area. The thought of collateral damage was the only factor holding her back.

Instead, she kept the attacks controlled but without any mercy. Her mechanical claw struck again. She leaped over one of the Destroyer’s drone trooper to land the blow. It shattered the opponent’s machine face and sent the rest of its body tumbling down.

The enemy was falling back. With each successful attack, the Enforcer was losing his position. Arendi gave chase, intent on eliminating the rest. But as she began to sprint, she felt trembling beneath her feet. The mother ship was shaking. She then heard the alert.

We have a problem, the Destroyer said.

He signaled through his remaining machine troopers as Arendi raced over to him.

The Gateway technology, he explained. It’s been launched.

Arendi slowed her step. What?

She couldn’t see it, but the secret technology and all its power was speeding away. The cargo had been fitted on a section of the mother ship and sent off. The final destination: the stockpile of exotic matter. The Enforcer and his remaining forces loomed, ready to ignite the effect.

Arendi clenched her teeth. Can we intercept? she asked.

Negative, the Destroyer replied.

The Adamant was gone. So was his legion of drone fighters. The Destroyer and his space-based forces had been exhausted, trying to fend off the swarm of machine flyers under the Enforcer’s command.

Our enemy is moving unopposed, he warned.

It was clear: they were losing. Despite all their efforts, this battle was still a lopsided affair.

Arendi tunneled through the corridors, destroying one enemy defender and then another. She moved as fast as she could, angry. Her right and left hands, ripped and pulverized, tried to make it all matter.

The obstacles fell. The machine foes either exploded or rolled over into dust. She pressed on, trying to eliminate all resistance. But she knew it wouldn’t be enough.

The real battle was out there in space. Thousands of enemy drone ships were still loyal to the Enforcer’s cause and were moving to achieve his final aim.

I don’t think I’ll be able to do much more, the Destroyer said with regret. The computing core was just sabotaged. We’ve been cut off from the rest of the network.

Then we’ll have to focus on the mother ship, Arendi said. We need to gain full control. Turn it against them.

She took an injured machine foe and used it as body shield. She ran, holding the malfunctioning drone a mechanical frame more than twice her size. The enemy was firing off another bombardment. The plasma singed and melted the robotic metal in her hands. Arendi threw it off, only to close in and destroy again. She jumped, kneeing the nearest enemy in the chest. Her two hands then came down and crushed the rest like a hammer smashing a porcelain plate.

The Destroyer and his machine troopers followed. At full speed, they shot, punched, and sliced. Arendi watched as smoke smoldered from her face and arms. She rose, feeling it sizzle. Even bits of skin at her cheek and chin were peeling off. The plasma burns were eating away at her fabricated human flesh.

Arendi took the damage, realizing it was accumulating. The stress from the speed was nearly rupturing her artificial muscles. Moreover, her cybernetic armor was weakening against the impacts. Pieces of shrapnel scratched into her knuckles and the shins of her legs. The debris broke off like shattered glass.

From behind, she then heard the moan. A sword dropped, clattering onto the floor. Alysdeon fell back. An enemy drone had rammed her, throwing the woman into a wall. Her body nearly cratered into the surface. To fight back, Alysdeon heaved her other sword at the enemy. It stabbed, plunging into the drone’s shoulder. The blade pierced through the mechanical armor, forcing the enemy to stagger. The blow would have been enough to cripple or kill any human foe. But the machine experienced no pain. It still came toward her, functional and relentless. This time, it chose to escalate and self-destruct.

Arendi could see the outflow of sparks. The sword jutted from its side, dribbling electric cinders. She ran, locking her eyes and hands on the hilt of the sword. With all her might, she grabbed the sword and drove it into the rest of the machine’s body. The slice split the enemy in two, cutting through the power core. The energy rising from the enemy died in an instant.

Arendi pulled the sword out and returned to Alysdeon. She knelt down by her side, as the Destroyer and his forces pulled back.

Are you hurt? Arendi asked.

Alysdeon shook her face, groaning. Her body was suddenly slow and tender. She pressed her head into her hands, shivering. Arendi looked her over and quickly understood. According to the scans, the woman likely had two or three broken ribs. But the pain wasn’t just physical; it was mental. The countermeasure at the base of her neck was active. The neurochems were at work, trying to blunt and stem the agony.

Alysdeon pointed, as though she were blind and desperately trying to find something. The presence was close, she muttered.

***

The sensation crawled over her body. The embrace was tight, almost too much so. She felt it prick, nip, and gash, like a razor-covered vine, dragging and then clamping against her neck, back, and waist. With each moment, it cut deeper, settling against her warm, bleeding flesh.

For a moment, Farcia thought the pain was familiar. She jolted, thinking she might suffocate under the weight. But this was different. The sensation wrapped around and sank its teeth into her brain. The sting was as cold as metal, the bite calculated and exact. Then the artificial sensation spoke. The tone was harsh and robotic. It droned, blaring out all other nonessential thoughts.

Farcia opened her eyes, hearing the Enforcer.

Do it! Kill them! Unleash your destruction!

The voice bellowed. She heard it everywhere. The frigid chill besieged her mind, striving to oppress and compel.

Our enemies are near. We must destroy them!

Farcia tried to move, but all she felt was steel in her back. It restrained and pulled her, like a chain, but tied to her spine. She placed her hands out, only to find herself contained. The embrace was real. She was encased in a sleeve of metal. Her hands slapped against the surface, and all she saw was darkness and gas.

Farcia was about to panic. She felt trapped and abused. But the Enforcer told her to submit. He demanded absolute consent.

I promise. Your people will return. I will rebuild them. I will replicate their world. But first, you must act.

The cold words shook in her psyche. The icy whispers repeated, endless. The Enforcer refused to stop, stirring up a breath of emotion. He murmured over and over again, trying to conjure up enough friction. Farcia knew what he wanted. The Enforcer was trying spark a fire.

The machine and his sharpened tendrils had already begun accessing her telepathy. He sought to harness the power of her mind. The Enforcer was close to understanding the various subtleties surrounding her mental abilities. He tugged and yanked, forcing it all to flicker and burn.

If you won’t do it, then I will.

Farcia winced. She realized the Enforcer had done this before. Maybe days or hours ago. The machine had prodded her body as though it were an experiment, analyzing and recording every tick and reflex. Now he stabbed, seeking to get an exact result.

The sensation drew forth the pain. Farcia cried out. The Enforcer wanted control. He manipulated and coerced, forcing her power to ignite. The agony spread. For miles her telepathy extended, scorching anything that could think or feel.

Summon your kin. Demand that they end your pain.

It was the true power the Enforcer sought to exploit. He wanted control over the Endervar ships in the area. His teeth delivered venom and bit into her brain. She screamed; the suffering replicated and mimicked her orders. Farcia could feel her kin begin to act.

No, she said, trying to resist. Please, stop.

But it was useless. Farcia whimpered. She was a slave, a puppet of this machine. The metallic rods in her back and neck went stiff. The Enforcer tightened again, wanting to wring out all the mental energy that he could.

Soon it will be over. The pain will end, and your people will return.

She heard this, knowing it was all probably a lie. Farcia had walked into the Enforcer’s stronghold believing that she still had some semblance of control. How wrong she had been.

The machine continued to make promises. Your people will live. A new beginning is near.

But Farcia couldn’t see it. The pain was too much. The shadows crept into her eyes as she wept. It all suddenly felt like a haze. Raw emotion ground against her. She had lost control over her feelings. Her mental state simply exploded. Hating. The fire in her mind soared, blind to everything else.

Your revenge. It’s all that matters.

Farcia lay there, helpless. The tears drenched her eyes and fell to her lips. Maybe he’s right, she thought. For a time, anger was all that she knew. She had even embraced it. The Enforcer was there, to remind her.

Your enemies need to pay. This galaxy and its people. Let them all know your pain.

The machine lay out the kindling and then the fuel. Burn them, he demanded. Let them die!

Farcia had once thought the same. It came like instinct. This need to blame and then to despise. It had consumed her and pushed her to do the unthinkable.

It’s time we finished what we started. There’s no turning back.

Farcia heard this and slowly nodded. Yes. She knew it to be true. She was a murderer. A killer. The innocent had died in her quest to achieve this. So why balk now?

I know, she said, broken but reluctant. I know.

The Enforcer had nearly convinced her. The power is yours, he said, deluding her. This is what you want, isn’t it?

His tendrils seeped into her mind, scouring for any sign of doubt. The flames in her thoughts burned away the hesitation. Farcia sobbed in misery, almost numb and indifferent.

Her misgivings could only converge in one remaining place. Her hands clutched her belly, trying to feel and cradle the change within. It was still there, but dying. The life crawled, but barely. Farcia didn’t know what to do. If only the pain would stop, she thought.

The Enforcer, however, continued to whisper. Her mind burned with his every request. The rods in her back did only one thing, pressing and pushing her to the edge. She might have fallen off and died, facing the abyss, if it had continued any longer. But then she heard it.

Our enemies are here

The whispers receded against the sudden clank. A force was pounding away at the metal holding her. The trap broke with another impact. With a heavy thud, the covering to the container fell off. Something, or someone, had removed it.

Farcia opened her eyes and began to see. The open air blew over her face. The weapons fire shot out, ringing near her ears.

She then realized that the noise was real and not just a figment of her imagination. The physical shrieks were fast, loud, and brutal. Not even the Enforcer could speak over it. Objects were crashing against each other. More metal clanged and screeched. She heard it tear and twist, as though bare hands were pulling the pieces apart. Then suddenly, a light began to flash. The beam blasts were flaring, dousing her field of view in neon red.