The Seryys Chronicles: Death Wish Page 23

  When the Vyysarri finally died, Khai looked up at his troops. “Fan out! Kill anything pale!”

  Khai went back into the hut where the Furrans were being held hostage. There was one female Furran dead on the floor, a small pool of pink blood gathered under her. He took a step closer to the family of Furrans and they recoiled, crying a high-pitched squeal and clicking like mad. They threw household objects at him to fend him off. The translator wasn’t doing its job, so Khai figured they weren’t saying anything intelligible, just scared gibberish.

  “It’s okay,” Khai said, dropping his gun, wiping the blood of his face and dropping to his knees. “We’re here to help. We’re here to stop those monsters.”

  They listened to the translator click and whistle and they calmed a bit. One got up, he was older than any Furran Khai had ever encountered. He started clicking away.

  “My name Brubee, I chieftain of village,” the male voice of the translator said. It determined the sex of the speaker by the tone of its voice.

  “I am Lieutenant Khai’Xander Khail. You’re safe now.”

  Brubee shook his head and clicked and whistled.

  “No. Monsters hiding in woods. Watched go.”

  “They’re still here?”

  “Yes.”

  “Sergeant,” Khai called into his mic.

  “Sir?” Baccar’s voice came in on his ear piece.

  “Stay alert, my Furran friend here says that they’re hiding in the forests. Proceed with caution.”

  “You got it, sir.”

  “Okay, Brubee. I want you to gather all of your wounded and bring them to the village square. I have two very skilled medics who can tend to them. Understood?”

  “Yes, Lieutenant Khai’Xander Khail. We bring them as we find them. Thank you for helping.”

  “You’re welcome, Brubee. I’ll be back in a few hours.”

  Khai went into the forest and found Baccar.

  “Report.”

  “Well, sir. The Furrans were right. They did flee into the woods, but we don’t think they’re hiding.”

  “Why not?” Khai asked his friend and folded his arms.

  “We found very distinct markings in the ground in a clearing about two hundred yards off in that direction. I’m confident that they landed there and left from there.”

  “So they have left.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Lieutenant!” a faint voice yelled out.

  Baccar and Khai looked at each other and ran.

  They came upon another injured Vyysarri. This one had fewer injuries than the last, but a spear had been lodged into his back diagonally and severed his spinal cord at the tailbone. Even without the use of his legs, he was doing a fine job of warding off the Seryysan soldiers.

  “Enough!” Khai shouted. “Leave him alone.”

  “What?” Ralm asked.

  “It has come to my attention that a crippling wound is a fate worse than death. Let him crawl about the forest.”

  “You are a coward!” the Vyysarri hissed. “Give me a warrior’s death!”

  “No!” Khai snapped. “You are the coward. You attacked a defenseless race of peaceful inhabitants. For that…” Khai left his actions to finish the sentence. He reared and stomped on the Vyysarri’s arm, snapping it in half. The Vyysarri grunted and the others cheered. Next, he broke the other arm. More cheering ensued. As a final insult, he spat on the Vyysarri and left him for dead.

  “Come back!” the Vyysarri actually cried. “Finish what you have started!”

  Khai turned his cheek and left. His troops followed, letting the screaming Vyysarri lie where he was.

  They returned to the village to find thousands of injured Furrans lying about. Most of them with bite marks. Their primitive healers were doing whatever they could, but most of their healing efforts were herbal and only served to ease their passing. As the last of Khai’s unit emerged from the trees, Brubee approached, clicking and whistling.

  “You find them?”

  “No,” Khai said coldly. “They left on ships that were hiding in the woods. They are all gone.”

  “Good. Have you healers?”

  “Yes, they’re here. I’ve ordered them to tend to your wounded.”

  “You have thanks.”

  “No problem,” Khai looked around at the hopeless numbers. “Where did they all come from?”

  “We have hideaway. Very secret.”

  “Good. Don’t tell anyone, not even me, where that is. You understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.”

  Khai patrolled the square, watching his men do what they could. His two medics were overwhelmed. Khai clicked on his com unit.

  “Khail to Admiral Takkir.”

  “Takkir here, go ahead, Lieutenant.”

  “We have thousands of injured down here, sir. Requesting full medical teams to be dropped in.”

  There was a long pause. “Granted, Lieutenant. Medical teams will be dispatched in a few moments. In the meantime, do what you can.”

  “Will do, sir. Khail out.”

  Khai moved about again, almost pacing, waiting for the medical relief to arrive. In his pacing, he came across a young adolescent Furran. He was whimpering as he spoke, pink blood gushing from a gaping wound on his neck and matting his brown fur.

  As he approached, Khai’s translator began working to decipher what he said.

  “I not want death. I frightened, father.”

  The father responded, cradling the youth.

  “Be brave, little one. It over soon.”

  The translator stopped and the frantic clicks and squeaking picked up. Though Khai couldn’t understand what the boy was saying, he could certainly see the fear in his eyes. His end was near. The look his father had was one of hoping the boy would die to be out of his misery, but also filled with anguish, hate and rage.

  “Can I get a medic over here?” Khai cried out.

  No help came. They were so overwhelmed, they couldn’t get away. The drop ship carrying medical backup was still en route. He knelt beside the boy and his big brown eyes looked up at Khai. Khai grabbed his hand and held it tight. The boy jerked and gasped. Gasped. Gasped… gasped… His eyelids grew heavy. It’s almost over, little one, Khai said inwardly. Be strong. He gasped again at length. Gasped… then nothing…

  The father squealed, clicked and whistled an anguished lament that came out so quickly, the translator couldn’t even begin to keep up. The boy’s hand loosened its grip on both Khai’s and his father’s hands and he was gone. That sent Khai over edge. His young and foolish mind raced with rage and loathing of these monsters. He stood and let out a bellowing roar that seemed to echo off trees and mountains miles away. He picked up a small cart and threw it into the woods. He stormed off back into the forest to find that worthless cripple. And he found the Vyysarri right where he left him, he pulled his trusted pistol and put two bullets in each leg. Khai knew he wouldn’t feel a thing, but he didn’t care.

  Khai picked the Vyysarri up under the arms and started dragging him deeper into the forest, leaving a trail of blood from the shot-up legs. Fueled by rage, he dragged the Vyysarri tirelessly until they reached the clearing where the Vyysarri ships had landed earlier. He dragged the monster to the center of the clearing and dropped him.

  “What are you doing, Seryysan,” he demanded.

  “Lining you up to be a hot meal,” Khai grumbled, striking the Vyysarri in the face. “The way I see it, that blood trail should attract some rather hungry predators…”

  Without saying another word, Khai once again turned his back on the Vyysarri and walked back into the village. Upon his return, the drop ship with emergency medical personnel had shown up and they were tending to the wounded. Things had calmed considerably since his storming off. It was only a matter of time before the medical staff had every one they could save on the road to recovery.

  Khai looked up at P-276’s hypnotic, swirling gases and wondered when this war would be over�
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  Trall stalked up to the boy with no hand and backhanded him across the face.

  “Your failure disgusts me!” he roared. “Your failure, all of your failures will not go unpunished. Since you failed at killing Agent Thirteen’s family, I have no other choice than to kill yours.”

  The only Agents not present were the three killed by Dah and Kay. They all looked at each other with real fear in their eyes, for their families were the only thing that really mattered to them. This was true for all of them because several questions in that test rated their loyalty to their families. The higher the score, the more easily they could be manipulated.

  “Furthermore, your visual desensitization will quadruple for the next six months. Now leave my sight before I kill you myself.”

  They all left and went straight to their homes. And they all at once called Kay for help.

  Dah woke to the sound of a com unit beeping in his left ear. A voice answered it and Dah immediately knew to whom the voice belonged. He sprung from his bed and looked about frantically for a weapon.

  “Whoa!” another familiar voice called out. “It’s okay!”

  Bria stepped in front of him.

  “Bria? Kay?”

  “Don’t forget me. I mean, after all, I only saved your life. That knife went in pretty deep. An inch to the left we’d all be glimmering in sparkling silks of the Founders,” Medic said.

  “Why is she here?”

  “She also saved your life,” Bria pointed out. “She brought you here before you bled to death.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah,” Medic said. “She even removed the knife and field-dressed the wound.”

  “Wow. I guess I owe her an apology.” She pocketed her com unit and approached Dah with an even more grim expression than the first time she approached him. “I don’t like that look, Kay.”

  “The surviving Agents collectively called me. They need our help.”

  Dah sighed. “Let me guess?”

  “Trall is coming after their families now.”

  “Damn it!” Dah snapped. “He doesn’t know when to quit!”

  “I agree. They need our help, though.”

  “We’re just two people, Kay! How the hell are we supposed to protect that many targets?”

  “We need help!” she cried. “Or innocent people are going to die.”

  Dah sat there for a long moment, mulling it over in his mind.

  “Dack,” Bria said, touching his shoulder gently and looking at him with those beautiful, marble-like green eyes. “She needs help.”

  “Fine,” Dah said, pulling out his com unit. “I’ll make some calls and see what I can brew up.”

  “Really? That’s great! Thank you so much!”

  “Don’t mention it,” Dah said wryly.

  After a call to Captain Byyner and a few hours of negotiating, Dah was able to get the Agents to agree on a couple of things as a bargaining chip if Captain Byyner wasn’t going for it. When Dah heard what the Agents had to offer, he had to fight a strong urge to storm off on his own and protect the families single-handedly. The information they possessed was enough to bury the present administration and complete Khai’s mission.

  “You know I can’t do that, Dack!” Byyner said, folding his arms and turning to look out the window of his office.

  “Come on, Captain. These people need our help. I can’t do it alone.”

  “That’s just not possible, Dack. You’re asking me to interfere with a government operation.”

  “You’re right, I am. And I am interfering, because it’s the right decision,” Dah argued, driving his index finger in Byyner’s desk.

  “I can’t, Dack.”

  Dah held his wildcard for last. “What if I told you that the Agents whose families you save will offer their services starting with the location of Prime Minister Puar?” That stopped Byyner dead in his tracks. “That’s right. They’ll turn their backs on Trall and help us. They’ll help us get him back.”

  “Where?” Byyner asked.

  “They won’t tell me until we agree to help them and carry it out.”

  “And what about Colonel Khail? Where is he in all of this?”

  “I don’t know,” Dah said sadly. “I haven’t seen or heard from him in several days, not since our encounter with Agent Thirteen.”

  “You think he’s dead?”

  “No,” Dah said more hopefully than definitively. “He doesn’t know how to die.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Byyner said. “Seryys needs heroes like him.”

  “I couldn’t agree more, sir. So what do you say?”

  Byyner turned to face Dah and said, “I don’t think we have a choice. If they can track down Puar, then we have go along. I’ll give you six men per family. I don’t have any more men than that.”

  “That’ll be enough, sir.” Dah gave his commanding officers a crisp salute, spun on his heel and made his way for the door.

  “Captain Dah!” Dah stopped and twisted to look at Byyner. “Good luck, you’re gonna need it.”

  “Thank you, sir!”

  Khai stirred, groaning, his brow furrowing.

  “Rest, child,” a gravelly voice rumbled. “Your injuries were grave, but you will mend in time.”

  “Where am I?” Khai murmured.

  “You are safe for now. That is all that matters. Now, rest.”

  Khai did not like the dark places sleep took him recently. He was back in his house, his old house when he was a child. His father sat in a reclining chair that faced the front door to the apartment, a gun lay across his lap. Khai was supposed to be in bed, but he was sneaking up on his father.

  “Dad?” Khai’s little voice called out.

  A man with long, braided white hair stood, his back to Khai. Khai’s heart fluttered and butterflies flurried up as the man turned. He was Vyysarri, elderly and but still muscular. He had deep crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes and his fangs gleamed white. He towered over the young boy. Khai stumbled back over some toys and landed on his back.

  The Vyysarri man stood over Khai.

  “Easy, child. I won’t hurt you. Be still.”

  Petrified with fear, Khai couldn’t even scream for help. The large Vyysarri man reached down and Khai blacked out. When he woke, he was in an infirmary on a Seryys ship. The bright lights hurt his eyes and he squinted against them. Due to his frequent visits to the infirmary, he knew exactly where he was. He was laying in bed on a Dagger-Class Dreadnaught.

  “Doc?” Khai asked, his head pounding. “Can I get something for the pain, here?”

  “Of course,” an eerily familiar voice rumbled. The doctor turned around and it was that same Vyysarri. He had a small, white cup with some pills in it. “You realize that you don’t actually need these pills right?”

  Khai scrambled from the bed and stumbled over several trays on his way to his back. When he hit the floor, there were two other Vyysarri there to pick him up.

  When he was on his feet, the dream was over. He was being held by two Vyysarri and that same old Vyysarri. He struggled against them, but he was still in a lot of pain.

  “Here,” the gravelly-voiced man said, handing him a metal cup with two pills in it. “You don’t need it, though. You are addicted to them. You have been suffering from withdrawal the last two days.”

  “Let me go!” Khai growled.

  “I can’t,” the man said. “Not until you are healed.”

  “Thanks, but I’ll take my chances out there,” Khai hissed. “Now, let me the hell out of here. You can’t keep me here forever.”

  “I know. That’s why, when your wounds are healed, you are free to leave.”

  “What did I just say?” Khai snapped then, that question was completely irrelevant the instant it left his mouth “Wait, what did you just say?”

  “When you have mended, you can leave at your leisure. You are among friends here.”

  “But… you’re Vyysarri…”

  “Not all Vy
ysarri are warriors bent on your destruction,” he said.

  “Who the hell are you?” Khai growled, wincing in pain.

  “My soldier name is Sibrex.”

  “Soldier name?” Khai asked.

  “We do not give our real names to outsiders.”

  “Fair enough,” Khai said, shrugging off the two holding him down.

  “And what is your name, stranger. We do not see many Seryysans this far out.”

  “What do you mean by ‘this far out’?” Khai asked. “Where am I?”

  “You are in one of the last remaining, drifting free colonies of the Vyysarri,” Sibrex answered, “in the outer sector of the galaxy. But you still have not answered my question.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Khai said, slowly reaching for his weapon. It was gone.

  “Now you are being rude. You must think we are stupid, if you thought that we would let you keep your weapons, stranger. Now, how about your name.”

  “Colonel Khai’Xander Khail.”

  “Ah, the ‘savior’ of Seryys Four. Your reputation precedes you.”

  “Apparently,” Khai said, dryly. “So where am I, exactly?”

  “I honestly do not know our exact location. Hence, drifting colony.”

  “How’d I get here?” Khai asked.

  “We found your ship adrift in space. Your life-support was failing and your ship was without power. We used a hauling beam to bring your ship into one of our hangers. How did you come to be out here on the outer edge?”

  “I was on the run,” Khai explained. “My ship was damaged and I was about to be captured. My only option was to make a blind jump and pray I didn’t die.”

  “Well, you have accomplished at least that, my friend. Now, come and sit so that I may tend to your wounds.”

  Khai sat back down on the bed and let the elderly man examine him further.

  “So what exactly is a drifting colony? Why aren’t you on Vyysar?”

  “Do you not know, boy?”

  “Know what?” Khai answered with another question.

  “The entire Vyysarri race lives in colonies of one sort or another. Some are not drifters, but ours is. We have no propulsion; we go where the solar winds take us. Though, we do exercise a degree of anonymity.”