Page 93 of Alien Soldier
“We won’t be there for long,” Va’lora replies. “Because your crew is going to infiltrate the weapons facility and control—with the help of some of our best operatives.”
Zandro rolls his shoulders. “We can’t set down safely,” he says. “I won’t put myself or my mate at risk; it would be too great a loss to the resistance—”
“She’s talking about us,” Mai pipes up.
Reza clears his throat. “I was once the commander of the Hallan Brigade.”
“Uh…” I raise my hand. “I’ll go too.”
Zandro shakes his head. “We just got a communication from Agent Morales; she told us the force in the base was too great and that she needed reinforcements.”
“In that case, we will send a ship with Lyran stealth agents,” Va’lora says. “They are some of my best—and they will be honored not only to serve under Nguyen and K’lyr, but eager to retrieve their comrade from enemy detention.”
“There is no guarantee we will succeed,” Zandro says.
“Captain…” Va’lora sighs. “The way I see it, we are all lost if Dalphox has command of such a powerful weapon. If we can get our hands on it, the tables will be turned, and we will rally our forces against him. One of our moons has already been decimated; it is only a matter of time before he brings the full power of the Second House coalition against us.”
Zandro tilts his chin. “I will do it…if we have support on Liatra. Has Nixeris spoken with Jokahn?”
“They have,” Va’lora says, “and Jokahn has agreed to assist in the evacuation if we can take the weapons facility. Do you think you can achieve this task?”
Mai steps forward. “I know we can.”
Zandro exhales deeply, then meets Bekah’s eyes. “For all our people,” he says, “we will do this.”
“Then I’ll see you in one Skoropi cycle,” Va’lora says.
“You’re coming?”
“Just because I’m old does not mean I’m no longer a warrior,” Va’lora says. “And my nephew is a prisoner; I should be there to assist.”
“I appreciate your bravery, Counselor,” Zandro says. “I will see you soon.”
“Prepare yourselves,” Va’lora says. “We’re going to have quite the fight on our hands.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
??
MALIX
I had an acquaintance at the Academy who loved humanmoo-vees.
He obsessed over them, imported them against the laws of our people. I frequently chastised him for it as I found the riskiness of his behavior unacceptable…and yet, I still found myself indulging in a few of these human cultural artifacts. He liked the silly ones withdan-zing, but I always enjoyed the ones that were frightening. I particularly enjoyed films about haunted places, where the ancient spirits of humans roamed the halls and crept into one’s nightmares, sometimes going so far as to raise the sheets and creep into bed with them.
I think about this often as I’m taken to a holding cell…because this place is haunted.
The sentience in the walls speaks to me when I’m thrust into the cell, when I crumple against it. After the invasion of my mind, I feel like my life force itself has been extracted, and I am horribly exhausted. I grip at the vines on the wall and they spark at my fingertips, telling me in some strange way that I am not alone.
I see Frankie—for a heartbeat. Then Taraven for another. Frankie is concealed somewhere in these walls, Taraven is having a drink on Jaya. I reach out for him, touch his cheek.
I cannot tell if this place is haunted…or if I am the one haunting Jaya.
Survive, the voice hums. It resonates in my chest, in my mind, at the core of my being.The biological imperative is survival. Cross-breeding to obtain the best possible result. Where we have failed, our children will succeed.
I do not know what this place is trying to tell me, but its singular message repeats on a loop.
SURVIVE SURVIVE SURVIVE.