The Forsaken Empire (The Endervar War Book 2) (7 page)

Red was alone with his thoughts. He breathed slowly, letting the silence envelop him. Then he found it; the past, the memory, the sensation was pulling him away.

The experience sat in his consciousness like an echo. The memory was interlaced with another memory, and then another. The images fluttered through his mind. The flood of telepathy was scattered, but it slowly sank into his psyche and grew dense. For a moment, he felt her Farcia there on the station floor, in his hands. He soon realized, however, that these were not his memories, but those of another.

You he said. What did you want?

It was a glimpse. A fleeting glimpse inside her mind. For Red, it was a crack of light through the doorway, just as it began to shut. He mumbled to himself as his train of thought stopped. The angst and the rush of memories lifted. As he slouched back, Red exhaled a deep breath. His hands fell to his knees.

Before he could dwell on the experience any further, the silence around him dissipated. He was no longer alone. He felt it approaching, a new presence. It was moving and coming closer. Red rose from his bed, no longer feeling so confined. Although the room remained unchanged, he could sense his surroundings shifting. The air was almost coming alive.

It was far, and then it was not. In his mind, he heard footsteps. The visitor had arrived, and she was there, breathing and walking, preparing for something. The door of his cell then opened. It was his interrogator. She stood at the entrance like she had before. Only now, there was no holographic static in the image or any sign of fabrication. This time she was real and in the flesh.

I’m Ensign Justice, the officer said. Now we meet properly.

He came to her, surprised by her height. She was taller than her holographic self, but the black and gold hair was still there, hidden under a formal cap. The ensign took it off. There was no one else behind her.

It’s just you and me, she said.

Although she said the words, Red felt them as well. Already this woman was inside his mind.

You’re not the only telepath. I hope you won’t take offense.

Red tilted his head, at first wary. He knew almost nothing of these humans or what they were capable of. To him, they were an oddity. Physically, he saw some resemblance to his own kind, but whether they could be trusted was another matter.

Already, he could sense the difference in telepathy. The coming embrace was strange and distant. But very quickly he did what was natural. He could feel her mind as well.

No, he replied. Perhaps it’s time we understand each another.

He had been in the dark long enough.

***

Let me touch his mind, the ensign had insisted. It had been her idea. Although she was young twenty-four years old Justice was a capable telepath. Her people, the New Terrans, were experts in such things. She herself had been certified at Level 3, a moderate but respectable grade for someone her age.

I can do this. I’ll be fine.

Arendi had looked at her, feeling the distaste in her mouth. Although the ensign was confident, Arendi’s first instinct was to say no; she had seen the scans.

Cieras Novaire, aka Red. Even though he was confined, he was still an unknown. The medical diagnostics were struggling to understand his anatomy. Whatever telepathic abilities he possessed, the scans were failing to detect them.

His race was apparently an old one, and it was physically far more evolved than humans were. The scans showed the presence of a large brain, one that extended down into the neck and chest. Clearly, it was powerful enough to sense something whether it was to read thoughts, or perhaps more. Still, the man himself maintained his innocence.

I can’t hurt anyone like that, he had said. Not like her Farcia is a mutant, you see. A rarity. There is no one else quite like her.

Arendi wasn’t sure what to believe. That’s why the ensign had insisted. They needed to know the truth and whether the man before them could be trusted. Reluctantly, Arendi had agreed. An hour ago her ship had docked with the ensign’s shuttle. Arendi now watched from another room, quietly observing the interaction from the cell’s surveillance cam. The ensign was there, sitting on the side of his bed. Occasionally she spoke, but largely she was silent as she stared into the man’s black and crimson eyes.

Arendi zoomed in, closely paying attention to their reactions. It didn’t help that Red possessed barely any facial features. To Arendi, he was a blank slate, his people, still a mystery. She carefully monitored the vitals of both the ensign and their captive. If necessary, Arendi could easily intervene. She had control over the collar on the man’s neck. With a simple order, she could shock the man or even kill him. But she had no need to. The ensign was preparing to leave the cell. In fact, the entire encounter had occurred without incident. Arendi was relieved. She quickly left her own quarters and met the ensign outside the cell.

How do you feel? Did anything happen? Arendi asked.

The ensign had pulled the sleeves of her uniform back. She blew the air out of her cheeks, also relieved.

I’m fine, she said. We have nothing to worry about. At least not from him.

So he was telling the truth?

Yes, that’s what I felt. I sensed no hostile intention at all. He really is just a man, looking for his long-lost wife. He’s just desperate.

How desperate?

The ensign stood there, thinking. She held her officer’s cap in her left hand, while she scratched the back of her neck with the other.

Although Arendi possessed no such telepathy, she had known the ensign for a long time. In fact, almost all her life. So she could tell when Justice was conflicted.

Red, Justice replied, shaking her head, almost embarrassed. He’s advanced. A far better telepath than I. Better than most, actually. When I spoke with him, I felt like a child again. A child speaking to an adult. His control is so focused. He could read my every thought clearly. It was astonishing, almost.

He didn’t delve too deep, did he?

No. Not at all. He was exact, and within boundaries. I could tell he would never hurt me. He wants to understand us. Our intentions.

What for? Arendi asked. I thought it was clear.

The ensign nodded. Their job was to find the target and capture or kill, if necessary.

Yes, but you see, Red he wants to save her. He’s convinced she’s innocent. That the Endervars control her even now.

It was a repetition of what Red had said before. Only now there was sympathy. Arendi could hear it from the ensign, even as Justice wished to remain objective.

Whatever the case is, we have no confirmed lead, Arendi said. The next time Farcia strikes, she could appear anywhere. We’re still in the dark.

All they had was the general analysis and a detailed map outlining potential targets. It was based on the previous attacks, four of them on science facilities, another targeting an Alliance military base. But even with the analysis, the potential targets were many and spread out across the sector.

The ensign placed her hand under her chin. I may have something. Actually, he may have something, she said.

The ensign explained. It was the one thought that, while not hostile, she felt he had willfully suppressed during the exchange.

Red was reluctant. But he agrees: these attacks must stop.

What do you mean?

The ensign pointed back to the cell.

As you know, for a moment, Red came in contact with Farcia. Not only that, he actually glimpsed inside Farcia’s mind. So he know she knows where she might strike next.

Chapter 8

He didn’t have much to go on. Only the scattered memories in his mind, along with an impending sense of doom. But perhaps it would be enough. Escorted by the ensign, Red left his cell and walked down the brightly lit hallway. He then entered the new room, hearing the white door open to his presence.

This was different. This was the bridge. It was a circular area, one that was more open. He felt the light on him and then looked at the center. Next to the command console was the Sentinel. She stood by the controls, clad in her soft metal jacket, waiting. Behind her was a mirrored panel that curved along the steel wall. The ensign was beside him.

A green world, Red said, hurriedly trying to describe it. Highly populated. Definitely in Alliance space. Maybe a ring. Or something else in orbit.

He gestured with his hands, creating the circular motion with his fingers. Arendi listened.

Understood, she said, turning to the panel. Red noticed it flicker on, the screen becoming black as night.

The ship’s computer, Justice explained. It will process the request.

Out in front, at the main screen, the pool of black rippled; very soon the shadow was filled with a grid. He realized that it was a map of the stars. The detailed pictures were materializing into the light.

Then they heard a new voice.

Accessing query Naifei III. Distance: thirty-two light-years.

Red heard the computer drone on in its synthesized tone. He watched as the requested green world emerged.

Total population: approximately five billion. Home of the Varidacht race, and aligned with the Alliance. Also known as Nalfei Prime, the A-class planet is orbited by a pair of moons. Following the Endervar War, the system

Red raised his arm and opened his four-fingered hand, shaking it. No, he said. No

Something was off. Perhaps the moons were too large or the planetary ring, too soft. He wasn’t sure, but he didn’t find it familiar.

Next one, the ensign said.

Accessing Sobal Anu. Distance 128 light-years. Total population: approximately 9.2 billion. Home of the Nori-Falken, and aligned with the Alliance. The central capital, Kiten, is a

No, he said. Not this one, either.

Seconds later, another world appeared and then another. Red shook his hand again and again. He looked at all the images and felt neither a match nor anything resembling the memory in his mind.

How many more are there? he asked.

Two hundred twenty-three, the ensign replied. Green world and highly populated are both very broad search terms.

Red stood there and sighed; he felt almost like a fool. He needed more information, beyond the generic. Rather than continue, he closed his eyes, trying to recall the alien memory. It was what he had learned from Farcia, the moment she had opened her mind. He was still laboring to piece it together. All of it was foreign, spanning histories and places of which he knew almost nothing. So much of it revolving around pain; he could barely think through it. He clenched his jaw, and held the side of his face. This isn’t working, he thought.

Unbeknownst to him, the Sentinel had a solution.

Isolate, she said. Same search parameters, but only in Arcenian space. Display most populated.

The computer complied.

Accessing the Arcenian home world: Vellanar. Distance 707 light-years. Total population: approximately eleven billion. Home of the Arcenians, and aligned with the Alliance. Vellanar is a

Wait, he said. Yes. Vellanar.

He looked up at the image. What came to him did seem familiar. A green world, orbited by three moons. Half the planet was in the sun, the other half in shadow. There, the cities were etched in fields of light. Then he saw the ring around the periphery. It was colossal, entirely man-made, and circling the planet in a barbed belt of machinery.

Red thought back to the memory. It was now less about the image and more about the sensation. The sensation that this was crucial.

Yes! he exclaimed. Vellanar. Farcia was thinking of this planet I’m not sure why. But it must be connected.

He glanced at the Sentinel woman and saw her slowly nod. She was also looking at the screen, and her eyes were just as intense.

But how did you know? Red asked.

Of the hundreds of worlds he could have examined, the Sentinel knew specifically where he should look. Arcenian space, she had said, almost certain it was important.

The two women looked at each other, silent. To them, Red was still a security risk.

Naturally, he was curious. His first instinct was to move beyond words and into the mind. But this time, Red refrained. It wouldn’t be polite to read the thoughts of the ensign. Nor was it right; he didn’t want to violate any trust.

In the end, the Sentinel spoke; the risk was worth taking. He was their best lead.

This is from our general analysis, she revealed. We’ve been examining Farcia’s past attacks, looking for the motive. Our latest analysis suggests that the Arcenian Empire may be the true target, although it’s still conjecture.

Before him, the map changed. It faded as the black pool rippled again to form a new image. Red saw what he thought was a face. It looked like stone. The skin, and even the eyes, were gray and hard, while the chin and snout were long and protruding. At the back of the head there seemed to be long whiskers, the hairs curled but unkempt. To Red, the alien seemed old.

Do you recognize this man? the Sentinel asked.

No, not at all.

This is G. Kozanis, from the Arcenian race, she said. Our best guess is that Farcia’s attacks may revolve around his work.

Who is he? Red asked.

A brilliant scientist, within the Alliance. During his three-hundred-year career, he was known for refining hyperspace technology and his breakthroughs in N-Wave tech.

Kozanis, however, is dead, the ensign added. He died over fifty years ago. But his work lived on through his colleagues.

Other images then appeared. More faces a few from the same race, but many more, not.

Eleven of his associates are now presumed dead, the Sentinel said. Killed off in explosions during the first four attacks. Do you recognize any of these people?

He walked up to the screen, carefully examining each face.

So far, it’s just conjecture, the Sentinel explained. But we think Farcia may be looking for something. Perhaps she’s trying to acquire technology.

Red then stood back, taking one last glance. Finally he shook his head. Ultimately, the faces were all foreign to him, though Farcia’s intent was not.