Viola Grace

Jarrod dug with the others, seeking the Destroyer of Ichadra. They had only the most vague of location descriptions, but they did seem to be in the correct area.

Jarrod had been a student of the Citadel for years before joining the Sector Guard. As Hidden, he was not on any public rosters, he went in undercover and got the job done.

A cry rang out from the far end of the site, and the diggers all moved to excavate the find. Jarrod kept his mind on his task and his hands busy until the silvery metal and onyx stone was exposed to all of them. The Seeker, running the dig, moved them all back as he tried to read the code to the lock.

Jarrod watched with the others as the Seeker entered code after code, moving his fingers over the glyphs around the opening.

Jarrod and the others sat around, watching as the Seeker worked into the night. For Jarrod, the means of entry was simple, and yet, he could not move. Not yet.

It was near dawn when the Seeker keeled over and had to be taken to his tent to rest. Only two men remained near the doorway, and they were both listing over with fatigue. It was time to see if he could take possession of the Destroyer before the Raiders captured one of the greatest weapons in history.

He hid himself and walked to the door in the ground, standing centrally. He knocked with his heel and the door disappeared beneath him.

Jarrod dropped fifteen feet before sliding to a halt. He looked up and the door solidified once again. If they could wake the Seeker, they would figure it out in a few moments, but with the drug he had slipped into the Seeker’s meal, he should have a few hours.

The halls didn’t light as he entered, so he flicked his secondary lids over his eyes to improve his night vision. The tiny bit of light from the end of the passageway was enough to lead him directly to his quarry.

He had no idea what he was seeking. The people of Ichadra were lost to history. No images of them remained. They had been a race who didn’t like strangers. Their Destroyer was designed to keep all invaders at bay. It had been so successful that once the Destroyer had been engaged, no one had seen an Ichadra for six centuries. That had been before the quarantine went up.

He rounded the corner and entered the lightly lit area. Tables and computers covered in thin plexi sheets sparsely occupied it. A taller structure stood against the wall, a sheet draped over it as well. Jarrod shook his head, as it seemed that the Destroyer was a creature of myth and legend, not fact.

He pulled the plexi sheets off one by one, removing the tall covering last.

To say he was shocked by the woman sleeping in full armour and a standing position was to minimize his feelings at the moment. He was stunned to the toes of his boots.

Dark hair was braided away from her face, fine tattoos in the palest gold across her cheeks and dark lining around her eyes that was more pigment than makeup. Her body was clothed in black armour etched with the same gold colouration as her face.

Jarrod reached out to touch her skin, and to his amazement, it was warm. There was a small bell near her head, and he took the hint. He lifted the small hammer and struck the bell.

Her eyes opened wide, and she looked at him in shock but then continued past him. “Who woke me?”

Jarrod reverted to being seen, and he bowed low. “My name is Jarrod, Destroyer. There are those above who wish to capture you to use for their own gain. I am here to tell you that working for the Raiders would cost countless lives.”

Her gold eyes blinked slowly. “You are not one of my people.”

He could literally feel power swirling in the room. “Your people have been dead for nine hundred and fifty-seven years. They were destroyed by a pestilence and none survived.”

She stepped from her platform and the power simmered but remained in the vicinity. All of the hair on Jarrod’s body stood on end.

“Why did you come for me?”

“Because I wanted you free and alert before they came for you. It should be your choice whether you are used or not. I merely came to wake you before they did and offer you a position in the Sector Guard if you want it.”

She took a few steps, the chainmail dags covering her abdomen swinging. “You have come to offer me employment?”

“I have. In the Guard, your free time is your own, and your only duty is to those who are desperate for your help. You will have companionship of others with similar powers, and you are free to come and go as you please.” He inclined his head.

The Destroyer tilted her head as if she heard something in the distance. “You are offering me freedom?”

“I am offering you nothing but the opportunity to choose. You served your people well, but they are gone. You can return to your sleep, but now that your tomb has been unearthed, others will come and try to take by force what you can offer freely.”

She turned and faced him. “They are coming. Are you honest in what you offer? I may have my freedom?”

Jarrod nodded and turned to face the doorway.

The Destroyer wrapped her arms around him from behind and whispered. “I really hope you are telling the truth. Death at my hands would not be pleasant.”

Wiyra Kwinto settled into her pod. “Do we have the sites that you want me to check out?”

Her cousin Stennar nodded and grinned. “They are loaded. Feel free to check on them, cuz.”

“I will. I hate it when you use me to surprise other folks on the mining colony.”

He chortled and put her drips into her arms and thighs. “You spoil all my fun.”

“And you like to use me to give people heart attacks. We all have our burdens to bear.” She exhaled and let the gel lining of the pod take her weight. It would keep her hydrated, fed and breathing while her mind went for a walk without her body attached.

She carefully gave Stennar a thumbs up as she used the keys under her left hand to get her locations. Her mind automatically corrected for drift and propulsion, and the next moment, she was out of her body and standing on a slowly rotating asteroid.

She did her standard mineral check. Several hours of walking through the rock layers later, she was confident that it was a viable site. She moved onto the next rock and the one after that.

Six hours out of her body was enough for one day, she returned her astral form to the drifted locale where it should be and ran into a slight problem. The mother-platform was gone. All the surrounding asteroids were in the proper alignment, but the platform where her family and her body were was gone.

Son-of-a-bitch.

“Wake up, Master Tracker Burin, I need your help.” She carried on the conversation with her hand inside his skull. It was the only way she could transmit her thoughts into something he would understand.

It had been hard to force her way into Citadel Reevish. The tower and the Masters’ quarters were fully lined against psychic spillage. Apparently, she qualified, but she was also very determined.

He opened his blue-green eyes and jolted in surprise. “I have had this dream, but you were in your body at the time.”

“That is my problem. Someone has stolen my body and my family platform.” She really didn’t want to be here. The last time she had spoken to Burin, he had offered her an amazing amount of money to join Citadel Reevish. She had rudely turned him down and told him where to stuff his offer. Now, she was sitting in his bedroom with her hand inside his skull. Life was unpredictable.

He chuckled. “You are joking.”

He sat up and she moved with him, trying to ignore the muscular nudity of his form. “Could you put some clothes on?”

Neva shooed her charges down into the emergency hatch. With a string tied to the door, she tugged it open as she lowered the hatch door and moved the rug to cover it. Peeking through the one-inch opening, she charged the strand with the brittleness of ice and jerked hard.

As it shattered, she lowered herself down into the underground tunnel and looked at the best and brightest that the Citadel had to offer. "Okay, ladies, we are going out that door and into the forest. Keep silent and calm and we will be fine."

Sterla tugged at the door and scowled. "Winder Neva, this door is sealed shut."

A cold chill ran through her, but Neva moved toward the door. Sure enough, a synthetic welding substance was trailed around the doorframe and firmly held the door in place. "Stand back. This will take some practicing."

She took a thread from the reels at her waist and tied a knot in one end. Focussing the sputtering talent that had cursed her her entire life, she started to spin the thread faster and faster, imbuing it with an acidic temperament and stepping forward. The whirling thread ate into the door, creating a hole that was large enough for them to crawl through.

She discharged the characteristics she had imbued into the thread, snapped the used area off and dropped it to the floor.

"Please come this way. I will seal the door behind us. Get to the other end of the tunnel and wait for me. I will be right behind you."

Geli looked up at her with solid black eyes. "Are you certain?"

"I am certain. I will be right there." She watched as the Citadel apprentices crawled through the hole, one by one. Her hands were busy while they escaped the noises of the Raider attack. Neva wove a web of threads rapidly, using the hooks she had had implanted in her nail beds. With the loose fabric bunched in one hand, she crawled through the hole she had made. She turned and fastened the web to the interior of the hole and charged it with an electric shock strong enough to stun any of the races who were known the frequent the Raider clans.

She walked down the tunnel and found her students waiting for her. "Thank you for following instructions. The Raider warning came out nine minutes ago. If they land and come for the weaving house, they will find the door open and no one in it. Whoever sealed the door will lead them to the trapdoor and from there, they will find that we have escaped. Now, we have to remain at liberty long enough for help to come."

Geli swallowed and her tongue flicked out rapidly. "Do you think they will come in time to keep us from being taken?"

"I have no idea, but I do know that we have to fight." She looked over her six students and smiled grimly. "Now, stand aside so I can blow the door. If they are waiting for us on the other side, this is going to hurt."

 

 “Kiiki Waythorp, please report to the entryway.” It was more polite than most summons.

Kiiki looked to all her friends, the only family she had had on a daily basis for ten years. “I suppose that this means goodbye for now.”

Togger was shocked. “You are a Waythorp, and they still locked you up?”

Kiiki lit her body with the glow that the stars gave her. “Do you think that this could be covered up for long? Even with their influence, my parents could only arrange a second visit every year under the guise of an assessment.”

Her suit chirped a reminder. “Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, but I have an appointment to keep. I will return when I can.”

Urik cocked his head, “You want to return?”

Kiiki nodded, “For better or worse, this is my home. I just want to feel the light on my skin once again.”

She left the council hall without a backward glance. Her goodbyes had already been said, tears shed. There was nothing left but the future and a brighter possibility.

The path to the only entry into the Dome was well worn by folks pacing back and forth in an effort to calm them with the only contact with the rest of Resicor.

Kiiki heard her suit chirp again and pressed the button for the door. It scanned her hand and opened to allow her in.

The airlock was just as she remembered it—snug, hostile and filled with armed men. Even her visits with family were done under the fully armed escort that kept her in their sights.

Three new figures were waiting next to her parents.

“Mama, Papa. How are you this fine evening?”

Her parents rushed forward, ignoring the audible clicks of weapons.

Kiiki let tears fall as she stood in her family’s embrace.

Her mother whispered frantically. “They suspect that you have broken free of the suit, so we pulled every string we could to get you off Resicor. Go with these folk from the Citadel and live a good and happy life.”

Kiiki stood straight and brushed at her cheeks. “I will make you proud.”

Her mother caressed her cheek, and her father held her shoulder. As one, they spoke, “You already have.”

Kiiki smiled at their touch and the touch in her mind that mimicked the physical. There were downsides to having two telepaths as parents, but there was a freedom in always living an honest life. If you didn’t have to hide anything, you were fine. Concealing information was like sending up a flare.

Their position in local government and as a respectable family had been called into question with a daughter who flew, but a few well-placed bribes and she had been sent to the Dome with little fanfare. Her parents were upstanding citizens, and ten years ago, there had been no off-world option. Now, things were different.

The information flooded into Kiiki’s mind as well as the location to nine different credit accounts she could access if she needed to. It was the only gift they could give her as they sent her on her way. They might never see her again, but if she touched those accounts, they would know she was well and living on her own.

One of the Citadel personnel stepped forward. His voice boomed in the quiet room. “Kiiki, please come with us. We have a launch window.”

She nodded, gripped each of her parents in turn and followed the folk with the swaying robes out into the moonlight. She didn’t need to say goodbye—she would be back as soon as she could arrange it.

Baengar Lekkal was exhausted. Two weeks working with Sector Guard extraction teams had worked on his nerves and his body with equal measure.

As he walked up the pathway to the Morganti Citadel, Apprentice Kalo came to him and took his bags.

“What is it, Kalo?”

“Turnari needs to speak with you about a new recruit.”

The exaggerated calm of Kalo’s tone was not lost on Baengar. “What is up, Kalo?”

The younger man grinned. “You have got to hear it to believe it.”

His curiosity overrode his exhaustion. “Turnari had better be more forthcoming than you are.”

Kalo chuckled. “I will drop your bags in your rooms. Shall I dump them for a cleaning cycle?”

Baengar gave him a dark look and the younger man moved down one of the corridors. Stomping down the halls, he reached the coordinator’s office and knocked on the door.

“Come in, Baengar.”

Turnari raised his head and rubbed at his forehead, his horns gleaming in the light of his lamps.

“What is up, Turnari?”

“We have a situation. Have a seat. The tea is fresh.”

Baengar took a seat at the table set with two places and poured himself a cup of tea and a glass of water. Munching on a sandwich, he waited for the facility manager to finish his notes. Turnari got to his feet and joined Baengar at the table, his frame taxing the small chair.

“Now, Baengar, let me preface this by saying that I know you have sworn off taking personal apprentices, but we have a situation.”

He sipped at his tea and waited for the Dhemon to continue.

“We have a recruit and she has a peculiar and amazing talent. She needs hand-to-hand and weapons training.”

Baengar sipped at his tea and leaned forward. “How long has she been here?”

“Ten days.”

“And you haven’t started her training?” That was a bit of a surprise. Normally, an asset would begin immediately training to master their talents and whatever skills they needed to go with it.

Turnari rubbed his forehead again. “I didn’t say that. She has gone through three instructors. They all refused to work with her again.”

Effin Nywyn looked up as the sonic boom shook the air. He had been hoping for a quiet time on the planetoid for hunting and meditation. It was just his luck to have company.

He looked up to see the ship wobble badly and head deep into the forest. "Hells."

His oath as a physician kicked in and he hopped on his short-range skimmer. The smoke cloud was mercifully short, meaning that either the ship was out of fuel to burn or it had immolated anyone onboard. Either way, his work would be short. The speed of the crash was bound to have killed the inhabitant, but he had to satisfy his own urge to make sure there were no survivors.

The heavy warmth of the forest engulfed him as he followed the trail of the beacon in the ship. That it was working was good if the odds were twisted and there was indeed a survivor. Someone else would come to claim the body. He needn't worry about burial.

The column of metal had shredded on contact with the ground, peeling open like ripe fruit. He landed his skimmer outside of the debris zone and walked in.

He could feel something in the wreckage, something alive. Sighing, he opened his mind and connected to the living being with a jump of surprise. She was alive and whole, but trapped in some way.

Moving faster than he ever had in his life, Effin crossed through the debris and entered the shadowed expanse of the interior. The flare of a bright mind called to him from a dark corner. When he saw why she was trapped, he laughed in relief. "A gel bed. Just wait, lady. I will have you out of there in a few moments."

She didn't respond, but dark blue eyes stared out of a face framed by rich brown hair. The breathing mask on her face framed full lips and a tilted little nose. She was cute and he recognized her species.

It would have been hard not to recognize a Terran when he saw one. His cousin, Altius, had married one a few years earlier and Thea was a lovely addition to the family.

Her eyes seemed a little dazed, but with the shock of the crash, he would be surprised if she had survived unscathed.

His fingers moved over the switches and toggles, rerouting and overriding the commands until the gel dissolved and its contents were free if moving somewhat sluggishly.

"Come on, Beauty. Time to get away from the wreckage." Lifting her was easy. Her body indicated she would be quite tall, but there was nothing to her. No real muscle mass and barely any curves.

* * * *

A touch on her mind stiffened her spine until she saw the owner of the thoughts that she linked to. A Wyoran. No wonder her mind attached to his so easily. His was trained for this type of thing.

He was dressed like a wild man--leather leggings, black boots, no shirt to cover his auburn skin and his red-black hair fell heavily to his waist in a silky cloud. His eyes were dark amber, slitted and smiling into the tube where she lay. His mouth wide with a grin and his nose flat and vaguely feline with a jaw that made her want to stroke it.

That one instinct froze her in her tracks. She was on an assignment to a new world, not flying around to get her rocks off.

He seemed to know his way around a gel bed though and soon had the goo dissolving back to whence it came. He lifted her in arms that supported her easily and carried her out of the wreck. One thing stuck in her mind as he murmured to her in the skimmer as he piloted them away from the crash. He called her Beauty.