Asarlai Wars 1: Warrior Wench (17 page)

Chapter Eighteen

Deven seriously contemplated joining Vas in her ready room and getting brain-killing drunk. He knew what Asarlaís looked like even before Marli’s little peepshow at her home. His people were possibly the only ones left in the galaxy who had accurate images of the true Asarlaís.

As far as he knew, and as far as Marli stated, she was the last Asarlaí left.

Fussing with the image didn’t help any. It was clearly an impossibly tall and skinny man, with long silver hair, and faintly glowing red eyes.

He couldn’t decide which was worse, the fact that there could be another one of them alive, or that Vas was staring at the image like a long-lost lover. If that man who slammed into her hadn’t done so at that moment, he had a nasty feeling she might have tried to approach the hologram.

There was nothing more he could tell about the hologram, at least not now. If he trusted Marli, he’d contact her and ask her.

Since that wasn’t an option, or at least not one he was ready to deal with yet, he turned his focus on the young man with navigational issues. Human or one of the human offshoots. Probably about Mac’s age but shorter. Stocky build, thatch of black hair flying behind him as he ran. He was looking back and forth between something out of range behind him, and a small object in his hand. Unfortunately, neither were clear on the vid.

The flight suit was unique though. Dark blue and skin tight, the badges on the arms were like nothing he’d seen before. The main one was the elongated diamond shape they’d pulled off Marli’s crispy crewman. He pulled out the patch from the dead crewman, and blew up the image on the scanner as far as it could go.

He didn’t need the computer system to tell him the two were a perfect match.

The edges weren’t solid, but marked to look like it had been carved out of glass instead of fabric. The one in his hand, although purified by the ship’s systems, was smoky from whatever had charred the crewman. However, he could still see the image on the stiff fabric.

Focusing in, he managed to capture a clean shot from the man on the vid. The language on the badge wasn’t one he was familiar with, but running a computer search would translate it.

The language wasn’t Asarlaí. Deven let out a breath in relief at that.

The language on the badge belonged to an obscure outer rim world. Mostly kept to themselves. Separatists that wanted to pretend they weren’t part of the Commonwealth, but kept using their services nonetheless.

The home planet was called Rilliania. Population hovering around four million on a planet large enough to handle far more. Deven frowned as more information came up on the screen. Their population had faced a huge boom in the last hundred years. Usually that indicated a major change in tech, but if the Rillianians had such a surge they weren’t telling anyone.

He wasn’t surprised when a scan of the crew database revealed no one from Rilliania. He’d never met anyone from there, and the reports listed them as extremely planet bound. Hard to meet a people if they won’t let anyone on their world nor come off it themselves. He scanned again to see what races or cultures had contact with the Rillianians.

He rocked back in his seat, surprised and hopeful as the screen flashed the only outside race the Rillianians allowed on their world. Wavians. Out of all of the peaceful, calm, helpful races available in the Commonwealth, this neurotically isolated world only made contact with one of the most vicious species in the Commonwealth.

Flarik had been in hibernation since they’d left the Tarantus IV station almost two weeks ago. While he was certain this wasn’t as long of a sleep as the moody lawyer had been hoping for, it should be enough to keep teeth in check when he woke her up. Had they actually fought on Lantaria, she would have been woken long before this anyway.

He loaded the information he had on the badge into a panel and left his room.

He stopped short for an instant when he saw the next shift was already in place. Had he really been in there that long? Gosta should have had a few more hours. He nodded at Nariel sitting in the command chair. “She still in there?” He asked with a nod toward Vas’s shut ready room door.

Nariel bowed her head slowly. The mind doc was a Silante and every movement was languorous and graceful. “Aye, or at leassst according to Gosssta ssshe isss.” Her grin revealed tiny perfect fangs. “I haven’t sseen her come out.”

“Excellent.” Deven made his way across deck to the lift. “I recommend you not let anyone in to disturb her. No calls either.” He tapped the comm clipped to his hip. “If you need me call my private comm.” He turned as the lift doors opened. “Oh and I’d advise everyone to stay clear of her if she does come out.”

Nariel gave a low chuckle. She wasn’t afraid of Vas, one of a few crewmembers who wasn’t. However, she did find her captain’s antics amusing.

“I’ll look forward to it then.” With a wink, she turned back to watching the screen in front of her.

The late shift was sparsely manned, so there was no other crew out and about. Low-level floor lights guided him down the crew quarters into the furthest corner. Flarik must be very happy with the
Warrior Wench
; she’d not been able to get as far away from the rest of the crew as she’d wanted when she’d joined them on the
Victorious Dead
five years ago. However, this ship had far more crew room than their missing one. Deven walked past empty quarters for a good minute before he hit her room. Flarik said that the noise from the regular crew was distracting for her hibernation. Deven knew there was more to it than that. Wavians rarely flew with non-Wavian crewmates for a reason.

The smells of the other races made them think of prey.

There was a popular series of fictional horror vids made of a race not unlike the Wavians who in a half-doze ate the rest of their crew before they even came out of hibernation.

Deven buzzed the external comm once. He figured it might take a while to pull Flarik out of her sleep, but slow and steady awakenings were better than a sudden one. Especially with someone like Flarik.

He almost fell into the room as the door slid back and a confused, but extremely awake, Flarik glared at him. She stuck her head out past him, her long neck extending to clearly see down both ends of the hall. Then she cocked her head and pulled him inside.

Deven tumbled in, his eyes blinking in the dim light.

“Sorry, did not expect a guest,” Flarik muttered as she bustled further into her lair. “Lights up.” The illumination increased to an easy level.

The room before him was a mess. Wavians preferred cozy, nest-like quarters, so the reconstruction of the original furniture and features wasn’t surprising. The condition of the new creation was.

Clothing and fabric from the original furniture was flung all over, bits of fibresteel and plastic littered the floor. Flarik vanished further into the room and came back wearing a heavy green robe. She perched on one of the piles and nodded.

“Why are you here?”

“Are you all right?” It wasn’t what he’d intended to ask, nor possibly the best thing to ask a Wavian, even one who’d been his shipmate for five years. But she looked so out of things he was concerned.

Flarik glanced around her quarters with a wince. “Fair question. Very fair question. I believe I am now. But something was wrong, very wrong.” Her eyes were bright. “I had a dream, one that penetrated my hibernation. There was an ancient evil on this ship.”

Deven set himself down on one of the more solid piles. He didn’t think Wavians were telepathic, at least not on a scale he’d ever heard. And when she was in hibernation it took an explosion to wake her. However, something had reached into her mind through that instinctive sleep.

Something at the same time that Marli had been on board.

Carefully making sure no nuances of what was going through his head came out in his words, Deven leaned forward. “Did you see what it was?”

He wasn’t careful enough; the shrewd lawyer bobbed her head. “So something did happen. Something, or someone, was on this ship who shouldn’t have been.”

“A number of things happened while you were asleep.” Maybe he could dodge around this, but he knew that somehow she had felt Marli’s presence.

Flarik rose to her feet, and rocked back and forth, a hunting stance she used when facing a challenge. “Perhaps so. However this was a unique person.” She glared at him as if it was his fault. “I did not dream it.”

Wondering where his ability to keep things hidden from others had vanished to as of late, Deven let out a sigh. “No, I don’t think you did. There was someone on board.” He’d already told Vas, how much worse could it be if Flarik knew? Besides this might be the only way to engage her help on this. “There was a woman on board. An Asarlaí in disguise. Vas knows, but no one else can.”

Flarik’s golden eyes locked on to him so intently he knew why the fictional horror vids had been so popular. She was terrifying.

“An Asarlaí. Alive. Here.”

“It’s a long story, but yes—”

“You let one of them aboard this ship?” Flarik started shaking and rocked back until she hit the pile of fabric behind her. In a very un-Wavian movement she tumbled onto the pile and sat there.

He’d never seen any Wavian, much less Flarik, who was unique even for her species, be so visibly unnerved. If he didn’t know better he would say the lawyer was terrified.

“Is it gone now?” Her voice was low, her feathered chest rising quickly as she took in short tight breaths.

“Yes, she’s left.” He debated calling for help, but that would cause problems for both of them. “Are you going to be all right?”

Flarik rocked for a few moments, her eyes shutting slowly as she nodded. However, whether the nodding was toward him or herself he wasn’t sure. Finally her outer lids opened followed a few moments later by her inner ones. Her golden eyes were their usual predatory self when she stared at him.

“I was taken off balance by the news that not all of the monsters we thought to have destroyed eons ago are dead.” She rose and tightened the robe around her. “I will ask the captain for an extended leave. It is my duty to remove this last beast.”

Deven ran his fingers through his hair. This wasn’t turning out well.

“Flarik, I understand that the Wavians suffered during the time of the Asarlaí. Many races did. But this one is different. She’s working with us.”

“She? Is she your mate?”

Deven fought back his initial choked response. “No. However, I have known her for over one hundred years. She has no ill intentions toward your people, or this ship.” He hoped. Truth was he trusted Marli to be Marli, nothing more.

Tiny feathers that covered Flarik’s head ruffled forward. “Who are you to have known an Asarlaí?” She spit the word out with more venom than a Kjarion pit viper. Clearly the history of the Wavians had not forgotten the Asarlaí.

“That’s really too long and convoluted to go into now.” He fingered the panel in his pocket next to the patch. He pulled the panel out and held it up. Maybe if he could distract her she’d let things lie for now. “Do you recognize this language?”

Flarik switched to lawyer mode and looked like she wouldn’t let the interrogation go, but a chance glance at the image on the panel pulled her attention and she whipped it out of his hand.

“Where did you get this?” If anything, she was more pissed off than she had been about the Asarlaí. “Do you understand what this says? This is blasphemy. Where did it come from?”

Deven pulled out the burnt patch. “From an image of someone wearing a suit with a patch like this.”

She hissed and refused to touch the patch even though it was clearly sealed. “The evil came from that. Was the Asarlaí wearing it?”

He put it back in his pocket for safety. “No. However, someone working for her had been wearing it when he flash froze to death. She claimed he hadn’t been wearing it when she last saw him.” He waited until the feathers on her head settled down. “What does it say?”

She fixed him with a tilted glance, her golden eyes narrowing. “I do not think I like you visiting me, Second.” She arched her shoulder to release the tension she’d been holding, and nodded at the panel. “However, it is as you say, for the good of our ship. That badge states that the Asarlaís are gods that shall rise again out of the ashes and resume their place as the godhead. But more disturbing is the language it is in.”

“Rillianian?”

“Yes. Which I presume is why you brought it to me. The Rillianians and my people have been compatriots for thousands of years.” She nodded slowly. “They stood with us when the Asarlaí atrocities began.”

“How much contact with them have your people had recently?”

She flung the panel at him and stomped back to her bathroom. “Not as much as we should have had, that is clear.” She quickly came back out completely dressed and perfectly groomed. “I will not hibernate again until this is resolved. The Asarlaí may not have been whom I sensed. However, I will address the issue of her, and you, after we have solved the other issues.”

Deven followed her out of her chambers. Middle of the sleep cycle or not, Vas was going to get a wakeup call.

Luckily, it was just Nariel and Divee up on deck when the battle began.