Nova (51 page)

She knew! Avara knew exactly how she and her expressions are
affecting me.

The thought struck K’llan with the suddenness of a fighter–launch,
though surprise quickly faded away with recognition. By means of a rather
loudly broadcasted sense of playfulness, the Human woman was deliberately psychically
communicating her sincere approbation, all the while reading K’llan’s emotional
responses.

Nyeria, indeed.

Pausing a moment to meet Serros’s gaze, K’llan could not
help but quirk her brow and shoot her own response towards Avara.

“Yes?” The Shield Operative asked with an exaggerated pose
of innocence.

K’llan offered only a mysterious smile as an answer. “Later,
Captain Avara Serros; later.”

“You’re on.” The Captain responded, switching her attention
back to maintaining vigilance against discovery and the task at hand. “My guess
is that our best option to shut clone production down would be to disrupt or
overload the power directly supplying the tanks.”

While K’llan worked to negate all traces and electronic
signatures of their data mining and tampering, Avara, K’llan noted, was alternating
her attention between memorizing the facility’s schematics and maintaining
watch.

“I believe you are correct, and so to ensure that the
Karukai cannot simply repair the tanks and begin anew, the better option would
be an overload.”

“Agreed.”

“Okay, we have finished here.” K’llan communicated a triplet
of minutes later, quickly stretching her arms and back as she rose from the
seat. She then carefully replaced every item back to its original placement at
the work–station.

“Very good.” Keying her armor’s helmet activation toggle, Serros’s
head was enclosed and features entirely hidden behind a tinted pane within the span
of a few heartbeats. “We’ll make for the Communication’s Hub first, then the
Cloning Tanks.”

“Understood.” K’llan rejoined, activating her own helmet.

After peering through the glass door for several seconds,
Avara holstered her weapon, assumed a casual pose, and then whispered, “Here we
go” before opening the portal and exiting the small office they had been
working in.The two moved cautiously though the central building’s wide hallways.
At times, soft evening light felt more revealing than Dantis’s three suns
combined, especially against the almost glaringly white walls. Relying heavily
on their SP and DSA Enhancements to pick up sounds of the night–watch moving
about the interior, and then using speed to quickly avoid or make cover, K’llan
and Avara ever so gradually closed distance to the Comm and Systems Hub.

Having to maintain a constant awareness and a high level of
calm while moving through a building filled with hostiles that if alerted, would
not hesitate to painfully torture, enslave, or murder interlopers, was
emotionally demanding, to say the least. K’llan was grateful for the extensive
infiltration, stealth operation, and sabotage training she had received as a
STF Agent, for it served her well now. Watching the easy skill and knowledge
that Avara had employed throughout this whole trying mission, K’llan knew with
certainty that the Human Captain had received the exact same flavor of
training.

Her skillset undoubtedly stemmed from her status as both a Vigil
Star Program pick, the VSs’ being the Human equivalent to the Vosaia Strategic
Task Forces Agents, and of course, her Shield Operative ranking.

K’llan almost had to stifle a laugh as she considered how at
odds Avara’s training must be at times with her instinctual, front–forward,
almost aggressive approach to most hostile obstacles.

As they deliberately made their way through lower–traffic,
smaller side–hallways rather than one of the Outpost’s major arteries, K’llan
and Avara passed several large, long–table lab rooms and numerous smaller offices
identical to the one they had occupied earlier. While in–system, K’llan had
discovered that Outpost J2 was home to some one–hundred and twenty free souls,
including soldiers, techs, administrative and maintenance personal, and a large
research team comprised of an impressive forty senior and junior level
scientists.

The number of offices and work stations clearly provided
physical evidence of the retrieved data, and the brain–trust invested in this
secret facility was truly astounding.

K’llan could not help but to agree with Captain Serros’s
assessment that the Outpost represented one of the most significant threats to
the security and autonomy of the entire Quorum Systems since the Karukai
initiated, Dark Reach Wars. Those horrific years had resulted in the Gorath
loss of their homeworld Ranoth, the conquest of the Irdoi world of Satnar, and the
forfeiture of one of the earliest efforts at Vosaia colonization from before
the Blood Schism, the planet Firrel.

In addition to lost planets, a score of space stations and asteroid
colonies had also been taken or utterly destroyed by Karukai expansion efforts.
The dreadful reality of the conflict produced by the Eternal Imperium’s
aggression during the twenty–two year war had resulted in billions of enslaved
and slain people throughout known space.

Having caught sound of yet another patrolling guard, Z’arr
and Serros noiselessly stole into a small side office. Avoiding detection, both
women crouched low to the ground behind the work–station. As they silently
waited for the immediate danger of discovery to pass, K’llan’s mind again
restlessly turned towards the meaning behind the creation of a Karukai clone
army so close to border space. The preparation for conflict comparable to the
magnitude of the Dark Reach Wars was a horrifying vision to consider, and yet,
given the evidence she and Avara had accrued, the intent appeared to be
irrefutable. Yes, K’llan Z’arr understood the significance of Outpost J2 only
too well.

The sobering thought lodged in K’llan’s core with painful
weight and on a selfish level, it took on added meaning. Even now, K’llan could
feel the ever present hum of the Human’s
nya
in the background of her
consciousness, as inextricable and as steady as her own heartbeat.

The arduous journey across Dantis had pushed their connection
and relationship to levels that K’llan had never thought she would personally
experience. As the miles had been eaten away step by step and the two had met each
and every demanding challenge before them, uncertainty had dissolved along with
once extant psychic and cognitive barriers. What had been discovered behind
those barriers was precious beyond all measure.

And now we are on a mission that poses a very realistic
threat to surviving the day, let alone the dangers galaxy–wide war with the
Karukai would bring.

Sensing the dark flavor of her emotions, Avara placed one
gauntleted hand on her forearm. Though she could not see Serros’s familiar
features beyond the tinted visor, she
could
feel and see Avara’s
thoughts woven before her, like a brilliant tapestry comprised of jewel–toned
threads set into astoundingly intricate patterns. Avara was deliberately
sending an expression of understanding, immense affection, and unarguable
resolve to see the mission through. The effect was reinvigoration of heart and
purpose alike. K’llan answered in kind, and with a slight nod, the two left the
shadows and the patrolling guard behind to slip out of the research office and continue
their path to the Hub.

After what seemed like years but was in reality closer to two
or so hours, at the end–point of one of the major central hallways of the
structure, K’llan and Avara reached the outer–area of their destination. A
carefully captured glance at the Communication Hub and Systems Core’s wide
entryway from around a corner unsurprisingly, yet no less problematically,
revealed two guards standing at attention to either side of the sealed doorway.
Neither sported the lighting chevrons on their standard issue crimson armor
that would mark them as Varda, yet their presence still represented a
significant obstacle.

K’llan found herself wishing once more that they still had
all of their personal and standard issue Nova Squad gear, rather than their
borrowed Karukai equipment and weapons. A fully adaptable Zadex assault to
sniper rifle would prove more than adequate to noiselessly take the Karukai
guards out of the equation. As it stood, they would have to find another
solution.

Dispelling the tint to her visor with a quick toggle, Avara
made several motions with her hands and silently mouthed a few words.

Nodding her understanding of the plan, K’llan confirmed her
go–ahead and, after straightening their posture, the two casually walked
towards the Karukai guards as if they had every right to be strolling down the
Outpost’s corridors at approximately four in the morning. The sentries did not
immediately react, buying K’llan and Avara precious seconds to close the
distance. But then, as monotony and sleep induced mental lethargy were shaken
off, the Karukai recognized that they were wearing helmets and more, that their
visors were unnecessarily tinted in the fabricated light of the facility’s
interior.

“What are you doing here at this time in the morning?” The
lead guard on the left asked in the Karukai tongue of K’avenas. K’llan could feel
boredom give way to subtle suspicion as the guard’s rose colored eyes narrowed
and her left hand twitched towards the mag–clipped sidearm at her waist.

“There is some sort of system’s fluctuation that seems to be
originating from the Core. We were sent to run a quick diagnostic before
calling in the techs.” K’llan answered easily, keeping her voice level and the
nervous spike of her emotions well–contained in case the Karukai, just as
gifted and skilled in empathic ability as Vosaia, were able to read her
anxiety.

“We did not receive any notification.” The second guard
answered, her delicate features narrowed in confusion as pace by pace, the two
disguised Squadmates continued their unhurried advance.

Just a few more feet…

“Hmm. Surprising. I wonder if the fluctuation is interfering
with communications?” K’llan answered, projecting professional curiosity and
mild concern.

And…

“I better call…”

Now!

As one, K’llan and Avara sped forward into action.
Leveraging her momentum, K’llan used her right forearm and elbow to slam into
the starboard Karukai’s unprotected head with bone–shattering force. At the
same time, her left reflexively shot out to push the woman’s pistol gripping opposite
hand to the side. K’llan found the pop signifying the Karukai’s neck was
successfully snapped to be satisfying for all of a single heartbeat.

 Until the
crack
of a stray bullet cut through the quiet
corridors.

“Damn!” Captain Serros muttered, having also dispatched her
target.

Unfortunately, K’llan’s guard had, though dead, reflexively
squeezed the trigger of her drawn Nadir–make pistol; fired neurons had not
quite registered the morbid finality of death. K’llan was able to track a
single frayed hole marking the bullet’s entry into the left–most wall which was
thankfully, not constructed of glass but rather molded durexium.

“Let’s get them inside on the double.” The Captain commanded,
taking up a guard position while K’llan quickly entered the security key she
had fabricated earlier.

Without protest the doors
hissed
open, revealing a
large, tech smelling room replete with blinking lights and sensors housing
multiple control panels and boards, as well as power distribution conduits. K’llan
easily spotted the room’s two main control stations, Systems and
Communications. As was semi–standard design, each control station was fairly
large, with six straight and distinct outer sides that almost perfectly
resembled a dodecagon sliced in half.

Rapidly lifting the two dead guards over their shoulders, K’llan
was momentarily struck by the humorous, yet somehow totally inappropriate
thought, that she had been spending significantly too much time slinging corpses
lately.

While K’llan set to splicing into the Communications Control
Station some twelve feet into the room’s interior, Avara quickly locked the
door from the inside and then proceeded to hack into the portal’s software as
well as manual control panel to render the lock inoperable from the other side.

 When Avara finished her task and, just as K’llan had done,
toggled the helmet retraction button, K’llan very briefly looked up to meet the
Captain’s eyes. “I am sorry.”

“No need for an apology. Could have happened to either one of
us.” The Human responded, tone conveying her sincerity.

Z’arr knew the assertion to be true, yet still…

“Maybe they won’t notice. Besides, look at it this way,”
Avara began, offering her infectious, crooked half–grin that the Vosaia had
grown so very fond of. “If it had been me, there’s no doubt that the entire
Outpost would be awake and armed because glass would’ve been sprayed everywhere,
rather than just a nicked wall.”

Despite her apprehension, K’llan could not help but to laugh
at Avara’s reference to their on–going, personal joke. “Well, I suppose we must
be thankful then.”

“Exactly.” Serros responded, moving to explore the room
while they had a chance to do so.

The Lieutenant was only a few minutes into the
Communications System when a syncopated
bring–bring
sound of what could
only represent a facility alert suddenly blared through the building’s walls.

“Well, I guess they noticed after all.” Avara quipped,
taking up a readied position next to the Vosaia, rifle in hand. Though not an
ideal place for battle, the Central Control Station offered the most dedicated
protection of any barrier within the room, designed with triple–paned durexium
sheets to ensure control safety. K’llan knew Avara intended that they
capitalize on that advantage if cornered; they would have few others.