Chapter 38

THIRTY-EIGHT

Dragek waited on the outside of the ship, holding onto a pair of hand grips that he'd attached to the Callidum hull. He was perfectly still, allowing the cold, silent vacuum of space to flow around him.

Across from him was Ashrael, a sleek, dark atmospheric suit covering the saladin skinsuit he wore underneath. Dragek was similarly dressed. The Callidum-reinforced outer suit was impenetrable to most things whilst remaining lightweight and flexible, allowing them to move with ease. The suit itself regulated pressure and temperature. Oxygen was supplied through a respirator attached to a small molecular generator.

They could hang in space for a long time if they wanted, but this wouldn't take long at all.

Soon, they would infiltrate the enemy ship.

Just as soon as this Enki—yet another First Division warrior, making six of them in total—opened the ship's infernal airlock.

Apparently, they'd devised a way of doing it without triggering any alarms.

When that happened, they would shed their suits, don their masks, and slip inside, utilizing the ka'qui to enter the state of qim.

They would become undetectable.

Tarak and Kail were there too, armed to the teeth and clad in the unique symbiotic Callidum exo-armor that made the First Division so impossible to kill.

They were closer to the airlock than Dragek and Ashrael—a pair of menacing figures waiting in the cold silence. They would enter first, diverting attention from him and Ashrael.

They were the muscle and the firepower. The intimidation and the brutal force.

He and Ashrael were the stealth, the quiet precision, silent death delivered swiftly.

Actually, they complemented each other well.

Ashrael turned to look at him, his features obscured by the gleaming visor of the respirator.

Don't expect this to go to plan.

Dragek no longer objected to the mindspeech. Suspicion and hostility had turned into mutual understanding. The notorious Ashrael didn't have any ulterior motives against him. Dragek now understood that he'd been tested—to see if he was redeemable. Whatever they wanted in him, they'd found it.

The kill-switch was still inside his body, though. He resented it, but he could understand why Tarak hadn't removed it.

Kordolians were a naturally distrusting people—with good reason.

Why are you saying this right now?

It's a simple reminder. You should know from experience that things can deviate from the expected very quickly. At first glance, Amun Kazharan's behavior appears illogical. Something is off. And although Tarak has requested that you retrieve him alive, if you find yourself in a situation where his death is unavoidable, then you must kill him. The humans must be kept safe at all costs, and you aren't expendable either.

Good to know , Dragek responded dryly. But who am I to decide if killing him is unavoidable?

If you find yourself in such a situation, you'll know.

Hm. Ashrael's cryptic answer left him both reassured and uneasy. In the past, his orders had been absolute, with no room for deviation or error. It was the first time he would have to exercise his own judgment. So be it.

A soft glimmer of light danced across the periphery of his ka'qui , radiant particles streaming out from a small opening in the ship's roof.

That's it. The airlock's open. Wait.

He watched as Tarak and Kail gracefully moved across the ship's surface, reaching the airlock in a heartbeat. For such big guys, they moved so effortlessly. Like shadows, like liquid, they disappeared inside.

Let's go.

Then, he followed Ashrael, pulling himself across the surface with the help of the grips, which attached and detached at will. The airlock was typical for this sort of vessel, an imperfectly rectangular opening through which blue light spilled into the darkness.

It was open just wide enough for them to slip through.

After you.

Dragek nodded at Ashrael and moved forward, pulling himself across until he reached the opening.

He went inside. Tarak and Kail were already there, waiting patiently.

Ashrael soon joined them.

The Silent Ones quickly shed their atmospheric suits and tossed them through the open airlock, where they drifted lazily into the void of space. They didn't want to leave any trace that might alert the ship's crew to their presence.

The airlock closed.

The chamber repressurized.

They dropped to their feet soundlessly.

" We'll go," Tarak said through the comm. "Hang back until you hear us make noise."

"Noise?" Dragek had no idea what the general meant.

Kail chuckled softly, surprising him. It hadn't occurred to him that the stone-faced warrior might be capable of amusement, however dark.

A door on the other side of the airlock opened. Dragek caught a glimpse of an armor-gloved hand.

Tarak nodded at them, then disappeared, Kail close behind.

Noise? he asked Ashrael.

A diversion, as promised. Let's prepare. Ashrael slipped the death-mask over his head, completely concealing his features. In an instant, he transformed from a real person into a faceless killer. Perhaps the garb made it easier to do what they did. They became faceless, invisible, the living embodiment of their infamous legacy.

Dragek followed suit, channeling the fury of his Mating-Fever into his ka'qui. He held it there, in the center of his chest, feeling the pressure build and build until he could barely tolerate it.

He thought of Jade.

What would she make of him right now?

She would understand, of course. That was what he admired about her. For a human, she'd adapted impressively quickly. She'd seen his past and understood.

How did she do that?

Sweet, selfless Jade.

He knew her. She would want him to do what was right.

Therefore, he was at peace with it all.

He just had to ensure that he returned to her. She would be furious if he didn't.

The roar of plasma fire reached his ears.

Let's go. Ashrael pulled himself into qim , disappearing into thin air. He was there, but he wasn't, existing between two planes at once. His concealment was almost perfect. Dragek could only sense Ashrael because he knew he was there. Otherwise, he wouldn't have known a thing.

He did the same, focusing his ka'qui , allowing it to ripple across the conductive saladin fibers of his suit. It was even easier than last time. Usually, he would be feeling the strain already, but now the qim stayed in place without much effort at all.

Impressive, Ashrael mused. I'll do a circuit of the ship. You head straight for the bridge. Amun is likely to be there.

Agreed. Dragek had memorized a map of the Caelix III . He knew exactly where to go. Once he had Amun, he was to notify Tarak by comm.

It seemed easy enough. All he had to do was get close enough to put a blade to the bastard's neck and give him the choice between life and death. Sure, this Kordolian had a modification—a cybernetic tail-like apparatus with a Callidum outer skin—but that's where Dragek's other dagger would come in handy.

They didn't say anything about not immobilizing him.

All he had to do was stick his blade in his spine, severing the vital cords that linked the nerves in the lower body.

It seemed easy enough, but Ashrael's warning rang in his mind.

See you on the other side, Dragek.

And with that, Ashrael disappeared completely, in pursuit of another ghost.

Leaving him to figure out how to capture a monster without shedding a single drop of innocent blood.

What was the catch?

This was going to be… interesting.