15. Roxanne

Chapter 15

Roxanne

Wounds

A s I sit in the familiar lab aboard the ship alongside Astraxius, my senses are on high alert. The incessant ring of repairs being carried out on the damaged hull echoes throughout the ship, causing it to vibrate with each strike.

"Seems like those little buggers are keeping up their end of the bargain," Astraxius remarks, analyzing the console on his desk, which projects a holographic view of the corridor. As I glance over, I see hordes of Glaseroids scurrying around frantically, their spindly legs moving like clockwork as they haul and maneuver plates of arcweave to mend the breaches in the hull.

Their speed is nothing short of amazing. Despite Astraxius' reassurances, an uneasy feeling grips me, one that I can't shake off. The same spine-tingling sensation I experienced when Yaksai first noticed me resurface, and it makes the hairs on my neck stand on end. Yaksai's bug-like eyes had roamed over me and the ship, filled with an insatiable hunger like a child on Christmas morning eager to open their presents.

Astraxius' concerned tone snaps me out of my thoughts. "They will finish soon at this rate. Gods know what Krogoth promised them," he says, worry etched on his face.

My eyes remain fixed on the holographic view, scanning for any hint of hostility. "I just hope he returns soon. They make me nervous," I confess, biting my nails.

Astraxius nods in agreement, his expression mirroring my own unease.

Seeking a distraction from the tense situation, I turn to Astraxius and ask, "What are you working on?"

A wide smile spreads across his face as he responds eagerly, "Oh, I'm glad you asked." He taps his console, and the holographic display changes to show the outline of a Klendathian body with strange symbols adorning it. "These are the scan results of a young warrior who underwent genetic modification by the Scythians," he explains. The hologram zooms in on the brain, highlighting specific areas in red and green. "This shows which parts of the brain have been affected by the tampering."

The Klendathian people are facing a bleak future, with no women and their young genetically modified into ruthless killers. Their situation seems hopeless, and even Krogoth's sweet attempt to bond with me feels like a last resort. However, Astraxius' latest efforts give me a glimmer of hope.

"Do you think you can reverse the damage?" I remark, my voice heavy with concern.

Astraxius pauses for a moment, a pensive look crossing his face. "It won't be easy," he admits. "The genetic tampering is extensive, and the procedure is beyond me for now. But I believe in time I can find a way to reverse it."

"What about other aliens out in the universe? Maybe some of them have more knowledge of genetics or even Scythian technology," I suggest, trying to be helpful.

Astraxius furrows his brow in deep thought. "Yes. The Nebians have some of the greatest minds in the universe, but they'd more likely sabotage us rather than help," he says finally. "The Nu'warians could be an option, but they're notoriously reclusive. It'd be a miracle to arrange a meeting with them," he says, letting out a weary sigh. "Sadly, we Klendathians haven't earned many friendships working under the Scythian war machine."

I shake my head in doubt. "They can't hold you responsible for that. They've basically enslaved your entire species!"

Astraxius offers me a small smile. "You're kind to say so, Rocks. But rightly or wrongly, we have a fearsome reputation. Many would celebrate if we were to disappear from the stage of history."

As I listen to Astraxius' words, a sense of despair hits me. The thought of any species or people being wiped out from existence, the finality of it, seems too unfair, too brutal, but this is the fate Krogoth and Astraxius battle against daily. It seems so overwhelming.

An urgent beep on our wrist consoles shatters the peaceful atmosphere. My heart races as I wonder what kind of trouble we're in. I glance at my console and it confirms my worst fears - the young warriors tasked with monitoring the Glaseroids have sent a distress signal.

I tap on the visual display, and my blood runs cold. The scene that unfolds before me is mayhem. The Glaseroids are swarming the two warriors, attacking them relentlessly with blue bolt weapons. Desperately trying to cut their way free, the warriors are overwhelmed and eventually succumb to the horde.

I instinctively close the corridor doors down using the ship controls Carndor had taught me earlier. The doors slide shut with a deafening bang, sealing off the swarm of twitching, murderous insectoids. As I catch my breath, I realize the gravity of the situation. We're trapped inside the ship, with those deadly creatures desperate to find us. Panic threatens to overwhelm me.

Astraxius curses under his breath, his face twisted in anger and fear. "Gods be good!" he exclaims, his voice shaking with emotion. "We'll hole up at the Command Bridge." He grabs my arm and pulls me along as we sprint down the hallway, the sounds of battle ringing in our ears. "I've relayed orders to the warriors to perform a fighting retreat. The treacherous Glaseroids will pay in blood for every step," he tells me, his eyes flashing with determination.

I feel a small sense of relief when we reach the Command Bridge, but unless we can halt them, it will only be a temporary reprieve at best. As I rush to the console, my hands shaking with fear and adrenaline, I activate the defense turrets in the sealed off corridor. The visual display springs to life, showing two oval-shaped objects extending from the walls and firing volleys of blue bolts into the seething mass of Glaseroids. Some aliens are hit, their bodies disintegrating into steaming piles of blue viscera. They recover quickly, shooting back into the turrets, destroying them.

"Great job, Rocks," Astraxius praises, his eyes fixed on the visual display. "We need to thin out their numbers as much as possible if we are to survive this."

"They're trying to steal the ship?" I ask, my voice laced with concern.

Astraxius' grim expression deepens. "Yes, and everything else of value, no doubt," he replies. "If they didn't have those arc pistols, we could have handled them despite their numbers. Gangs like these rarely have access to such advanced weaponry, let alone in such quantities," he muses. His eyes narrow in suspicion.

Terror grips me as I feel trapped again. Memories of the Seeker Swarm come flooding back. Not again! I'm brought back to reality as the Glaseroids cut through the corridor door with their welding tools. They are met by the blue arc bolts fired by the four remaining Klendathian warriors crouched behind their shields in the next corridor section. The Glaseroids take many casualties in the process but still surge forward, firing their arc pistols wildly.

Four remaining Klendathian warriors move with precision, stepping backwards slowly as they relentlessly fire at the oncoming Glaseroids. The insectoid aliens surge forward, their arc pistols spitting blue bolts of energy hitting the Klendathians' shields.

As the last of the Klendathian retreat through the door, I seal it shut and activate the ship's defense turrets. The turrets come to life with a menacing hum, unleashing a torrent of blue plasma delivering molten death onto the writhing mass of Glaseroids.

Astraxius praises the Klendathian warriors for their discipline. "Excellent," he muses, "I was worried they'd give in to murderous rage and charge blindly into the swarm." A glimmer of hope shines in his eyes as he turns to me. "We might make it through this after all."

I cling to his words, desperately hoping that we might survive this nightmare. Scanning the visuals of the ship, I see the two corridors littered with bodies from the treacherous Glaseroids. I'm almost overcome by the gruesome sight. But there are still many of them left busily cutting through into the ship's final corridor, inching ever closer to our command center.

I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. The sound of the corridor door being cut open sends waves of nausea through me, and I brace myself for the worst. But the four warriors are brave, shooting into the swarming mass of Glaseroids while backing away slowly and maintaining their discipline amidst the flurry of blue bolts. As the Glaseroids close in, I hear the Command Bridge door whir open, and the warriors step inside. I seal the door behind them. My fear is palpable, knowing the danger is now in the room next to me. Once again, I activate the defense turret, hearing the screams and blasts from the next corridor. Too close now.

Astraxius curses under his breath. "If only we were in space," he growls, "We could jettison these vermin into the void where they belong." His eyes flash with anger.

He turns to the four young warriors. "You brothers have fought like heroes of old this day," he says, his voice ringing with admiration. The warriors salute in appreciation.

"Rocks, I want you to come sit over here." Astraxius pulls me towards a console, which is the furthest distance from the door. "Krogoth was right. I'm sorry we dragged you into this mess," he says with a heavy heart. "Whatever happens, whatever you hear, don't come out of there." His voice is firm.

Terror, its icy grip tightening with each passing moment, seizes my heart. I feel trapped, like a helpless prey in a predator's den. Fear consumes my mind, making it impossible for me to think rationally as I desperately search for a way out of this death trap. Hurry, Krogoth! If he was here, I know he'd do everything to protect me.

The sound of the welding tool cutting through the Command Bridge is deafening, its screeching and burning echo in my ears. The Glaseroids outside are like a symphony of death, twitching with anticipation. Suddenly, a panel of the door falls to the ground with a loud thud. The room lights up with blue flashes as the warriors and the Glaseroids exchange shots. Astraxius himself is crouched behind his energy shield, firing relentlessly into the charging crowd. The air is thick with the stench of burning flesh, and the screams of the dying grow louder and louder, creating a chaotic crescendo of madness.

Abruptly, the sounds of battle cease, leaving a deafening silence that makes my heart thud. Is it over? My anxiety skyrockets as I wonder who emerges victorious from the vicious fight. With bated breath, I cautiously raise my head over the console and am met with a scene of utter carnage. The floor is littered with the lifeless bodies of countless Glaseroids, their twisted limbs and mangled forms strewn around the shattered door panel like it is from a grotesque film.

Three of the Klendathian warriors are among the dead. They finally succumbed to the overwhelming numbers of the enemy and their arc pistol blasts.

Suddenly, the silence is broken by a familiar voice, that of the treacherous Psykes leader Yaksai. "Just give us the ship and the female. And you are free to go, yes?" he says, his tone oily.

"Your terms are unacceptable," Astraxius barks back. "Wise to not trust,' isn't that what you said before?"

"Yes, and you trusted anyway, foolish old Klendathian," Yaksai sneers in response, his contempt for Astraxius clear in his voice.

The air crackles with tension as Astraxius and the lone warrior scan the room for any signs of movement. Just when I think we're safe, a figure in gleaming golden armor strides through the door. Without hesitation, both Klendathians unleash a barrage of blue blasts from their wrist blasters, but the stranger deflects them all with a swift spin of his blood-red spear as he moves in a blur.

My heart races as he appears before the Klendathian warrior moving almost impossibly fast. "I challenge you, Klendathian." Astraxius steps back in shock, clearly recognizing the danger this strange newcomer presents.

"How is this possible?" Astraxius exclaims in disbelief. "Carndor, be careful! He wears Nu'warian Exoenhancer armor, and that's a Nebian laser spear."

The newcomer turns to face Astraxius. "Stay out of this, old man," he says, his voice calm and measured.

"I'll rip you apart and feast on your guts," Carndor snarls, his eyes locked onto the Golden Warrior as they circle each other, both assessing the other's movements. The Klendathian towers over his opponent, his energy shield and arc claws at the ready, exuding a primal aura. Meanwhile, the Golden Warrior is lithe and agile, a far cry from the brutish strength of Carndor. Their differences in appearance only intensify the tension between the two as they inch closer, both waiting for the other to make a move.

Carndor launches himself forward, blue power claws extended, aiming for the Golden Warrior's chest. But the lithe figure is a blur of movement, sidestepping Carndor's attack with ease. In a fluid motion, the warrior thrusts his red spear forward in retaliation. Carndor barely catches the red blazing spear with his energy shield. Purple sparks explode from the impact. His energy shield flashes out of existence, no match for the Nebian spear. The Golden Warrior leaps back, creating distance. His eye slits on his helmet gleam a menacing red color.

He circles quickly around Carndor, thrusting his spear with lightning-fast jabs towards him, who can only avoid some of them. It's not long before his armor spurts bloody slashes in numerous places. In desperation, Carndor performs another leaping attack, his arc claw aimed directly towards his opponent's chest. The Golden Warrior expects Carndor's attack and swiftly maneuvers with blinding speed, stepping forward and leveraging Carndor's momentum to impale him along the length of his strange-looking spear.

Despair washes over me as I watch Carndor's sacrifice. Despite his terrifying killer instinct, he was fighting to protect us in this final, desperate hour. I slump to the ground, awaiting my fate.

The Golden Warrior heaves Carndor's lifeless body aside and dashes towards me. I stand there, petrified, uncertain of his intentions. But Astraxius comes charging in, his energy claw blazing with power, and somehow lands a glancing hit on the Golden Warrior's shoulder, slicing off a chunk of armor. The warrior's reflexes save him from losing his head as he pivots away at the last possible moment.

His roar echoes through the room, a guttural sound that betrays his fury at being surprised.

I watch in horror as the Golden Warrior attacks Astraxius with lightning speed. The whoosh of his spear echoes as it comes down, raking across Astraxius' midsection, leaving a deep, searing wound. Astraxius collapses in a heap, barely breathing. I let out a blood-curdling scream that reverberates throughout the room, my heart breaking at the sight of the kind old Klendathian crumpled in a heap, hopefully still alive. His once-pristine white robes are now stained with his own strange green blood. I had only known him for a few days, but he had become an anchor of comfort in this strange new world. Now he is dying. Krogoth didn't come after all. I guess he's dead, too.

A feeling of utter desolation consumes me as I try to comprehend what plausible reasons these vicious aliens could have for keeping me alive. I can feel the weight of the situation crushing down on me, suffocating me. I don't care what happens anymore. This existence is too cruel, too brutal . There is no hope, only pain and suffering . The room spins around me as I struggle to keep myself upright, my legs feeling weak beneath me.

But before I can react any further, the Golden Warrior turns towards me with sinister intent. He then unleashes some kind of weapon at me, and the next thing I know, my consciousness is slipping away. As everything fades to black, I hear him say, "You've caused my master a lot of trouble."