Alliance of Serpents (31 page)

Kindel made his disinterest with the Mage
clear. "I have no time to deal with the petty problems of a
Kyrosen," he said. "Had you approached me in a civilized manner
about being reunited with your people, I may have been able to
arrange something. As it stands, however, I'm afraid I have no
choice but to dispose of you." His hands rose before Arus could
even get to his knees, and a thick band of electricity shot from
his palms, sending Muert's huge body sprawling across the floor. A
rapid series of twitches and spasms rolled through his arms and
legs before he stilled, hands going from clenched to limp in an
instant.

Seething, Arus tightened his grip on his
sword as he rose to his feet, ignoring the pain of the gashes on
his side and knee that Scimitar had opened. "It doesn't have to be
this way," he growled. "It's not too late for you to turn away from
this path. Don't allow pride to prevent you from making the
decision you know is right! Stop this mindless violence right
now!"

Kindel sighed heavily, his hands dropping to
either side in apparent resignation. He turned from Arus and
stepped away, glancing toward his motionless assistants as he did.
"You certainly have picked up much from my brother." He sounded
tired as he spoke, and he wiped his forehead before facing Arus
again. "He doesn't understand the universe as I do. I realize
you've been raised with values and morals similar to those I was
taught as a child, but like me, you have been confined within the
boundaries of a planet where you could not see the real danger that
waited amongst the stars. The Zo'rhan knew of interstellar travel,
possessed ships, and even had some trade agreements with a few
neighboring worlds, but we didn't go out of our way to interact
with the galactic community. As a result, we were very sheltered
people. In that way, you and I are the same."

Arguing wouldn't get him anywhere; Arus knew
that. Perhaps a sympathetic ear, an understanding tone, a friendly
voice of reason might prevail where force had failed. "That may be
so," Arus conceded. "But just because there are heartless and
violent people out there doesn't mean that I have to use the same
tactics to battle them."

Kindel's eyebrows rose questioningly. "You
think I am heartless?"

"You want to exploit the implant so that you
can control me. I don't see much compassion in that."

Surprise of surprises, Kindel laughed at
that. "No, that is what Aldoric told you. He is convinced that I am
trying to follow Sartan Truce's footsteps. I assure you, I am not.
My intentions are pure as snow. I simply wish to protect you from
the
real
criminals out there. I want to protect you from
Sartan Truce. From the Kyrosen. From the Alliance. From
yourself."

The last words registered as Arus opened his
mouth to defend the Aeden Alliance. Instead, he furrowed his brow.
"From myself?"

Thorus' smile took on a warm look now, one
that somewhat resembled a father's concern for his son. "My boy,
you are exceedingly young, and you don't know how to properly
handle the power you've been given. I intend to rewrite your
programming so that you'll have better control over how you use
it."

Arus' lips tightened. "I will
not
be
programmed," he said. "I am a living soul! I will not have anyone
telling me how to—"

A rolling sequence of explosions rocked the
ship. Garbled voices came from Damien's communicator, but he made
no move to respond. Kindel's own comm device came to life with a
panicked male voice. "Sir, we are sustaining heavy damage. The
Aeden reinforcements are overwhelming us! We've already lost five
squadrons and four starships! What do you—"

"Take care of it," was all Kindel said. "I
have important matters to tend to. I leave it in your capable
hands."

"But Admiral, we are losing—"

With a click of a button, the voice fell
silent. Kindel returned the communicator to his belt as another
series of blasts rattled the
Black Eagle
. Turning his eyes
back to Arus, he shook his head with a solemn expression. "Arus,
you don't understand. I do not intend to control you. But a living
brain has never existed side-by-side with a machine before.
Imagine! A mechanical device that coexists with a living organism!
Each depending on the other for survival, unable to exist
independently! It is mind baffling, and though I'm sure you
feel
as though the two are functioning properly right now,
I'm willing to bet that certain tweaks could be made to improve
your consciousness, speed, reflexes, and a number of other
characteristics, all which could significantly strengthen you, both
as a fighter and as a man. Arus, you are living a flawed existence,
but once I am through with you, you will be
perfect
. Between
the implant, your natural talent, and this . . ." He pulled a
shining golden amulet from his pouch, followed by a round purple
stone of some kind. "Arus, you could be unstoppable. No amount of
evil will be able to stand up to your power."

Using his mechanical eye, Arus magnified his
vision to get a closer look at the objects. The stone was something
his scanners didn't recognize, a molecular structure unlike
anything on record. The amulet was made of pure gold, embedded with
jewels of varying color and cut. He was almost hesitant to ask what
Kindel had up his sleeve. "What . . . is that?"

Thorus' eyes shifted from him to the stone
and back again before he spoke. He almost seemed to be
reconsidering whether or not he wanted to explain. "I have named
this stone ‘lephadorite,' derived from the Zo'rhan word for power,
Lephad
. Through extensive and exhaustive research, I have
determined that, when fitted in the center socket of this amulet,
this stone will grant the wearer access to a vast array of
supernatural abilities." A dangerous thing. "To a human, this stone
would open up a whole new world of senses and talents that they
might never have experienced before. What's more, I've devised a
way to clone it." He pulled another stone, about as big as a
pebble, from his pocket. "My scientists are hard at work perfecting
the process, and when they are finished, I will be able to give one
to every soldier in the Armada! And you, Arus, are to be the
first!" A dangerous thing, indeed.

Far too dangerous to be left in Kindel's
hands.

"All I must do is surrender to you, and
you'll give me the amulet?" he asked, stepping forward
casually.

Kindel's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Not
quite," he said, clutching the stones in one fist and the amulet in
the other. "Once I have reprogrammed the implant to . . . receive
the new abilities the lephadorite grants, you will have it."

"So . . ." Damien's voice startled Arus. He
had managed to make it to his knees, though he was still holding an
arm against the wounds on his chest. "You intend to make an army of
implant-fitted, magic wielding, battle-programmed cybernetic
soldiers?"

"We will be unstoppable, Aldoric," Kindel
said flatly. "No conquering savages would dare challenge us
then."

With a stifled grunt of pain, Damien forced
himself to his feet. "Then I will do what I have to do." He clasped
his hands together in front of him, and a white glow surrounded his
body.

Kindel recognized the glow immediately; his
eyes grew nearly as large as teacups. "Aldoric, what do you think
you're doing?! You don't possess the strength of body or mind to
perform the teleportation technique!"

Damien grinned as the light grew. "Desperate
times, brother."

Driven by the timing and precision of the
implant, Arus could only watch as everything seemed to move in
slow-motion. The light surrounding Damien began to expand,
encompassing the bodies of the allies he intended to transport back
to the
Refuge
with him. As it did, Arus made a desperate
lunge toward Kindel, slashing the hand that held the two
lephadorite stones with his sword. Kindel recoiled in shock,
instinctively releasing his grip on the rocks in the process. The
light grew brighter and brighter, but the cybernetic eye gave Arus
a clear view of them as they fell. He dropped to the floor
alongside the lephadorite and scooped them up in his free hand,
then shoved his blade through the dangling loop of the amulet's
chain and violently yanked it from Kindel's grasp. Just as it had
when Kindel initially teleported them to the
Black Eagle
,
the world winked out momentarily, and when it came back, he was
sitting on the floor of the bridge onboard the
Refuge
. How
it had all happened, he couldn't explain, but a message blinked
across the sensor report that read "Visual Perceptive Functions
Offline" just before the
Refuge
reappeared. Regardless, he
was safely away from Kindel Thorus for the time being.

And he held the two Lephadorite stones in one
hand while the amulet was looped around the blade of his sword in
the other.

Groans of pain grabbed his attention. His
scanners indicated three life signs, two of which were very faint.
Pushing himself up, he stuffed both rocks and the amulet into his
pouch. What he saw filled him with a mixture of relief and terror.
Kitreena was lying on her stomach beside the sensor array, groaning
softly every time she exhaled. Muert was lying on his back near the
communications terminal, though his chest rose and fell at a
dangerously slow rate. Damien was the worst of all, crumpled on his
side by the lift doors, motionless as a corpse. His signal on the
implant's radar was the weakest, and it was fading with each
second.

Arus grabbed his communicator and pushed the
intercom button. "Help! I need help on the bridge! Damien and
Kitreena have been seriously injured, and we have another wounded
man up here! Please, whoever can hear me, send help right away!"
The plea was not exactly the embodiment of protocol, but that was
the last thing on Arus' mind.

"Ugh . . ." Kitreena's moan grabbed his
attention. "It . . . hurts . . ."

Arus sheathed his sword as he rushed to her
side, ignoring the pain from the bloody gash in his knee as he
knelt beside her. "I'm here, Kitreena," he told her. "Help his on
the way. Please, just hang in there." He lifted her into his arms
as best as he could, trying not to jostle her wrist too much. "You
did well out there today," he said in soothing tones, trying to
keep her calm. He ran his fingers through her hair as he talked to
her, eyeing the sensor readings of Damien's life signal.
Come
on, come on! Why doesn't someone—

The lift doors slid open to admit Doc Nori
and at least five other medical technicians, four of whom
immediately dropped at Damien's side. The other headed for Muert.
Nori himself took a look at Damien before coming to Arus. Despite
the carnage scattered across the bridge, the old man was his usual
jovial self. "You all look like you tried to jumpstart the engines
with your teeth while standing in a pool during a lightning storm!"
he said, bursting into laughter. When Arus gave him a wry smile, he
waved his hands and flashed an assuring grin. "Don't worry, Son.
We've been handling this stuff all day long. Seen much worse, to
tell you the truth. They will be fine."

Kitreena moaned again, squirming weakly in
Arus' arms before collapsing against his chest. "Feel . . . sick,"
she murmured before promptly emptying her stomach all over his
shirt.

Arus couldn't help but chuckle. "Well, this
tops off a perfectly wonderful day."

For a man who'd focused his studies on
planetary ecosystems and indigenous species, rescue and repair
operations may as well have been a different language. Lieutenant
Petreit looked over the damage reports again and again, trying to
decide where to begin. His training in tactical operations had been
limited, but with the fleet facing as much devastation as they
were, every available body was called upon to assist with the
recovery efforts. It wasn't that Petreit objected to helping; he
simply didn't know where to begin. One of the battle commanders had
dropped a packet of papers detailing a portion of the damages in
his lap and told him to calculate the resources needed to complete
those repairs. Following that, he was to gather the manpower
necessary using as few men as possible. What kind of equipment
would be needed to do repairs in space? What would have to be done
first? Where would the supplies come from? Petreit couldn't help
but feel a bit overwhelmed.

Outside, the battle wore on. Starfighters
wove through jagged debris, looping up and down in pursuit of their
prey, most of which was Vezulian. The flaming wreckage of several
starcruisers created a ring of destruction inside a perimeter of
Aeden battleships and carriers. Blasts shook the
Black Eagle
on a near-constant basis while Treage Nardale rattled off damage
reports from the sensor terminal. Sixty-two percent of the Vezulian
forces had been lost, and that number rose with each of Nardale's
reports. Damage to the hull of the
Black Eagle
had sealed
off at least twenty decks and destroyed nearly twenty-five of her
forty laser turrets. It was not going well at all.

"How long is this going to go on, Captain?"
young Aarn Goldsyn asked. He had made less and less of an effort to
hide his unease as the battle wore on.

"Until Admiral Thorus says otherwise," Tiras
responded flatly. "He knows the situation better than us. We must
trust his judgment."

That was an idea that didn't sit too well
with Petreit. Although the Vezulian Armada had gained the upper
hand almost immediately, the advantage had all but vanished once
the Aeden Alliance reinforcements arrived. The tide of the battle
had turned as quickly as a page of a storybook, and the Vezulian
forces had been on the defensive ever since. Complicating matters
was the admiral's sudden silence, leaving the entire fleet to fend
for themselves. Most men were smart enough to recognize a lost
battle when they saw one, but without Kindel's order to retreat,
they had no choice but to press on with the fight and pray for the
best.