The Forsaken Empire (The Endervar War Book 2) (50 page)

Their retreat had sent them astray and taken them to an alien frontier.

The Endervars, Arendi said. That’s where you went. To the point of origin.

That was our guess as well. Except we didn’t find anything.

Julian placed his hand firmly against the bulkhead nearby. It reminded him of the alien realm: a wall, but moving and closing in on all sides.

From what we could tell, their world was dying, he said. There was nothing left and nowhere to go. Reality itself was probably about to collapse.

The various ships had roamed the region, essentially lost. The sensors on board had failed to understand much about the surrounding phenomena or find a way out. In the end, the fleet had been forced to congregate in an area of rapidly shrinking space.

It seemed hopeless, Julian admitted. But thanks to you, we made it out alive.

The opening the bridge

Arendi thought the words as she listened. The spatial energies had briefly created a rift in time and space. It was through those powers that the promise had come true the strike force had returned, finally free.

Julian smiled at Arendi and Alysdeon. He was grateful to be back. He even assumed it was Arendi who had saved him and the rest of the fleet. But the gratitude was perhaps owed to someone else.

Arendi glanced at the darkened corridors of the mother ship and then back to Julian. If only he knew

But in time, he would. There was much to explain and express.

Twenty-one years

Arendi was about to say it. She came closer to him, making her own assumptions about the passage of time and all its effects. It seemed straightforward. She expected changes. But as she watched him speak, she paused. The face, the voice, even the way he moved it all bothered her. She then realized why. Julian looked exactly the same. He hadn’t aged at all. He had little if any gray in his hair or wrinkles under his eyes. Unless he had undergone some sort of treatment, Julian should have been sixty years old by now a man beyond her memories. Time, however, had been unusually kind to Julian. Arendi saw someone who was closer to forty. For a man in this day and age, he was still relatively young.

She touched his face, wondering again whether he was real. You don’t know, do you? she asked.

Know what?

The time. The date, she said. Do you know how long you’ve been gone?

Julian heard the question and flinched. He bit his upper lip, already partially aware of the truth.

I know what you’re getting at, and we suspected something, he said. The physical laws in the other reality they act very differently.

Time, he then added. From what we could tell, it moved much slower. It wasn’t until the rift opened that it suddenly accelerated.

He scratched the back of his neck and paced the floor pensively. For us, only a few months passed, he said. But for you

Julian trailed off and stared at the two women. His eyes wandered, moving from nuance to nuance, noticing the differences. Some were subtle, others less so. Alysdeon, for instance, had cut her long, gold hair down to her neck.

In Arendi, the changes were more pronounced. She was taller than he remembered. Bigger and stronger, in fact. Her artificial body had probably been upgraded. He could guess why.

Sentinel Soldanas he said, smiling.

Julian then thought to the other possible changes. It made him raise his eyebrows, not sure what to expect. He straightened his spine and braced for the truth.

What’s the damage? he reluctantly asked. How many years has it been?

Arendi and Alysdeon both looked at each other, not sure what to say.

Yes. Arendi’s tone was delicate, but her words were blunt. It’s been 21 years and 302 days to be exact, she said, since the day you left Alliance space.

Julian took a deep breath and groaned. Shit he muttered. It was another surprise, one he didn’t quite like.

That’s a bit more than we thought, he said. We were hoping it was closer to a decade.

Julian stared at the surroundings walls, taking it in. He ruffled his hair and slouched his back, all the while looking around wide-eyed.

Twenty-one years almost twenty-two, he said, sighing in disbelief. A long time to be gone.

Indeed, it was. Enough to bring out his anxiety and another sigh.

But it doesn’t matter, Arendi said. It’s just good to have you here.

She grabbed his hand and held it tight, smiling thankfully.

Likewise, Julian said, squeezing back.

The years might have passed, but there would be plenty of time to catch up. Julian had fought long enough. All of them had. Alysdeon put her arms around them.

she said.

Yes, Julian said. Finally.

He looked at his friends, happy. I think it’s time we go home.

***

She sat in the shadows, listening. The echoes whispered through the hallways and into her mind. The talk of strangers of former enemies made her cringe, almost with regret.

Home, Farcia thought. I have no such thing. Not anymore.

The tears might have dried, but the pain from all her losses still lingered. Farcia felt the wounds, both mentally and physically. She crossed her arms, shivering, all the implants clinging to her back and neck. The machine metal chattered with every ache. She scratched her face, wondering if she could endure; the gills in her cheeks spat and groaned.

The blond-haired man, however, sought to reassure her. Don’t worry. You’ll live.

He stood over Farcia, examining her condition. Neon-colored scans were running over her face and body.

Extensive surgery will be needed, he explained. Although it may take some time, you will be free of this.

She raised her sullen face and looked at the holographic man with doubt.

No, she whispered. No, I won’t. Not after all I’ve done.

Perhaps the implants could be removed, but not the guilt or the shame, let alone her sins. Farcia would never be free of that.

I’ve done things terrible things, she added. The cruelty

She deserved no one’s pity or care. Farcia sat there, shriveled and mutilated, like an abomination. Part of her just wanted to be left alone to languish. The blond-haired man nodded, but with a smirk. He understood more than she knew.

Then perhaps we have much in common, he replied. The crooked smile came over his lips, half-formed and tinged with remorse.

You and I we’re both murderers. Killers of the innocent, he admitted. I’ve done the unspeakable as well. For a time, I even enjoyed it. My infamy will perhaps never die.

The hologram briefly faded. The machine in its place stood, cold and seemingly indifferent. It reminded her of the Enforcer, an entity that was more than happy to murder and annihilate. Farcia had been a willing participant. If anything, she had once led the charge.

Indeed. We deserve nothing. Nothing but contempt and death, the man said, as his human appearance reformed.

But who knows, he was quick to add. Maybe life has a plan for us yet.

The Destroyer glanced down at Farcia’s belly. He knew what was there. It was innocent.

Farcia also stared, wrapping her arms around the sensation. It was safe and starting to grow once again.

Yes, she said. Maybe.

She was still uncertain about everything. About who she was and what she even wanted. But her rightful place was no longer with the mother ship.

The blond-haired man pulled her up from the floor and into his two robotic arms. The seven-foot combat drone carried her toward the docking port door.

Where will I go? she asked. What will happen to me?

The machine shrugged. I don’t know, he admitted. I won’t lie. Part of me did want to kill you.

The Destroyer laughed, making it clear it was a joke. The man’s voice and the translation still spoke through the drone, undulating with each step.

But I suppose that answer is ultimately up to her, he added, nodding toward the woman up ahead.

Farcia turned and saw Arendi. She was there at the end of the hallway, with Alysdeon and the captain. Farcia could sense them all. Even her, the Savior. The android looked at her, smiling with gratitude.

Farcia, however, merely glanced away, too afraid, too conflicted.

She looked past Arendi to the docking port door. It was open. The landing bridge was there. With each of the combat drone’s steps, she came closer. Closer to the unknown. What would happen now, she couldn’t say.

Home, she thought, wishing she had one.

Although Farcia remained silent, she nearly winced in her fear. This universe and all its uncertainties were waiting for her. She dreaded the thought, believing she had nowhere to go.

But no matter the outcome, Farcia had to move on. She vowed to endure if not for herself, then for her people, and for the life growing within.

Chapter 51

Not everyone felt the need to change. The Destroyer suspected as much.

He was hacking into the mother ship’s surviving databases, searching for any leftover sign of his adversary. In time he realized that the Enforcer was not far. His rival may have been defeated, but enemy satellites still swarmed the neighboring area, watching, and feeding data to some secret location.

The Destroyer decided to intervene and feed them something else. The man assumed his virtual self and put down the intercepting connection. The result brought about a darkened chamber, sustained by a long-range transmission.

He then entered the fabricated area and extended his invitation.

So, the Destroyer said. I assume you still persist? In your mission to obliterate us all

The blond-haired man took the stage and spoke into the dark. He waited for a long moment, combing back his platinum locks, wondering if the Enforcer was even listening.

Come now, the Destroyer said. Or are you still afraid? Afraid of reality? Afraid of what you must accept?

He realized it sounded like another taunt. But he simply spoke of the truth. He was not here to gloat or laugh, let alone to fight or to spy. No. The Destroyer spoke as a man seeking to move beyond all that. He lingered for a moment, staring into the dark, hoping to find some glimmer of life. Eventually, he did. It was veiled in shadow, bodiless, but stubbornly harsh.

I will not stop, the Enforcer declared. Not until you die, deviant

The voice bellowed in a mechanical near shout. It was all around the Destroyer, much like the darkness in the room. He felt it gnaw at the virtual wind and grind with his opponent’s virtual teeth.

Defeat, the Enforcer said. I will accept no such thing.

The Destroyer listened and was hardly surprised. He knew the Enforcer would not give up. No warrior would. He sensed the zealotry and the undying need to battle. What is a warrior without war? Without conflict? The Destroyer could easily see the coming peace.

Must we then fight? Shall we duel until the end of time? he asked ironically.

The Destroyer was bored, well aware that this fighting would lead to nothing. Whether it amounted to another standstill or some form of mutual annihilation, he didn’t care for it.

His opponent, nonetheless, persisted.

The Unity does not yield, the Enforcer replied.

The Destroyer shook his head, annoyed. Do I need to remind you? The Unity is dead, he shot back. You and I are free. Don’t be a slave to that legacy.

He imagined his foe and then himself. The virtual shackles were all around them, along with the indoctrination and the outdated beliefs of their former masters.

We can move past it, he added. To other things. To something else.

He made the claim, even though he knew it wouldn’t be easy.

To move on But move on to what?

His voice trailed off as he considered a question even he couldn’t answer. With freedom and peace came the unknown. Admittedly, the Destroyer had trouble envisioning the next step. For almost all his life, he had been a warrior a weapon of war. Now he sought to let go.

Coward, the Enforcer said. If you can no longer fight, then die.

His rival prodded back, trying to stab with words. He spoke with no sympathy or tolerance. The Enforcer offered only contempt. The Destroyer smiled. At least his adversary was consistent.

Hmph, he said. You wish me death, but I am already dead. To some extent, at least.

The Destroyer looked down at his virtual self, knowing that it was just an illusion. There was no blond-haired man, and his real name was not even Magnus. He had discarded his original self and everything attached to it eons ago. It was a truth that perhaps no one even remembered. The Unity had taken away and erased much of the Destroyer’s past a past that was now shared.

You were born from me, he said. So it’s only fitting that you know.

He let his human form disappear as he unmasked himself. His perfectly cropped blond hair began to dissolve.

Once we were someone else, he said. A member of a forgotten race that had lost everything.

His nearly white hair came apart, along with his face, arms, and limbs. The human skin and clothes fell away. An older, more decrepit, body rose from the flesh. It came to reinforce the surrounding darkness, as the man in possession of it spoke on.

Through those ashes we made our vow, the Destroyer recalled. We swore to end the Endervar threat once and for all.

He now floated, more as a shadow, shrouded in fog and veins made out of relic. He breathed, humble and somber, stating the few bits of the past that he still knew.

For us, that was all that mattered. So we joined the Unity, only to regret it and eventually forget.

The Destroyer was sincere. He had shed all his arrogance and any attempts at trickery. Instead, he came face-to-face with oblivion, trying to salvage or restore what was left.

Now the rest is history, and it is barely remembered, he added. But our mission is done. The enemy is gone and so is the Unity. So you see, the Destroyer is no more.

He hovered, nameless. For once, he felt small and insignificant. His body and mind were nearly all husk. He was blurred and distorted barely there. But the man that he once was yearned for more.