The Awakening (The Hyperscape Project Book 1) (12 page)

As Nick caught
up, Arya reached down and pulled out her scanner. “Frek.” She stopped dead in
her tracks and stood staring at the scanner.

“What now?” Nick
stepped around her and looked at the scanner she held.   

“You have got to
be kidding me,” he groaned.  “Can my life get any better?”

The scanner was
fried. A plasma blast had sliced it open during the firefight. One of the
Dragorans almost got in a lucky shot, after all.

Arya stuffed the
useless device back into its damaged pouch. “That was close,” she
muttered.  Without seeming overly concerned, she started walking toward
the landing site again.

Nick was amazed
by her cavalier attitude.  If the Dragoran had fired a few inches to the
left, she’d be dead. He guessed that’s what made her a soldier and him a
scientist. She was battle hardened, and he was only just beginning his journey
into the madness of war. Still, he doubted he would ever get used to being
fired at, damn near killed, and scared out of his mind every second of every day.

The team
stealthily continued down the path to the transport’s location, until Arya held
up her hand to signal for them to stop. Nick had his head turned, busy looking
into the woods for any sneaky Dragoran soldiers, when he plowed into the back
of Arya. Arya rolled her eyes, ignored Nick, and motioned to a spot on the
ground.

Karg set the
device down on the damp forest floor, just within the tree line.

Without a word
or a sound, Arya waved for the two to follow as she made her way around the
edge of the clearing to an area of dense brush on the other side.

“Okay, now
what?” Karg whispered.

“Fire the
modified rounds at the ground on the other side of the clearing. With luck the
power source will mask our presence and they will think they are being ambushed
from the other side.”

“Not a bad
plan,” Nick commented.

Arya grinned at
him, an impish, cute sort of grin that made her seem more human than
ever.  “I’m learning,” she replied.

The team fired a
burst at the far side of the clearing. Plasma explosions blew dirt and debris
into the air as each round impacted the ground. Several small trees blew in
half, showering the area with splinters of wood. They stopped firing and
waited, but nothing happened. No Dragorans taking cover. No return fire.
Absolutely nothing.  Until….

A twig snapped
behind them as a cold rifle barrel pressed against the back of Nick’s head.

“Don’t move,” a
deep, slurred voice commanded.

Nick moved his
eyes left just far enough to see the rest of the startled team frozen in their
tracks, rifle barrels held to the back of their heads as well. Damn, the
Dragorans had ambushed
them!

“Hey, fellas,”
Nick replied nonchalantly, already starting into a deflective spiel.  

“Drop your
weapons,” the Dragoran commanded, nudging Nick’s head with the barrel of his
rifle.

“Not much on
manners, are they,” Nick quipped. A swift punch to the kidney was his only
answer. Nick twisted in pain and tried desperately to maintain his composure.
His smart mouth might just be the death of him one day. Hopefully, this
wouldn’t be that day.

“I said drop
your weapons!” the Dragoran growled.

The team started
to lower their weapons but paused when they heard a strange roar in the sky.
The sound quickly grew louder.

The Dragorans
peered up at the foggy sky in an attempt to determine where the noise was
coming from.

A silvery craft
appeared in the morning sky, diving down on them through the mist. The
Dragorans raised their weapons toward the approaching craft and prepared to
fire.

While the
Dragorans were fixated on the craft, Nick’s team took the opportunity to turn
on them.  Weapons still in hand, the three of them spun around and began
releasing a barrage of plasma blasts at their captors.  Hot plasma ripped
into hard lizard flesh, burning holes almost clean through the torsos of the
beasts. After quickly emptying their clips into the Dragorans, the three dove
for cover.

Before the dazed
Dragorans could even defend themselves, a second fury of rounds hit the big red
lizards in the chest. The incoming craft had fired a devastating high-power
torrent of plasma, almost cutting the Dragoran soldiers clean in half. They
fell limp and smoldering to the ground, dead as a doornail. The ship roared by
overhead and turned to make its way back to the clearing. Circling around with
its landing gear deployed, it descended in the nearby field. Swirls of thick
fog billowed toward the team as the craft touched down next to the transport.

The rush of
damp, cold morning air filled Nick’s lungs and eased the adrenaline rush that
still had his heart pumping survival into his veins. “Damn, I thought we were
all goners that time,” he huffed as he stared at the strange craft.

As the small
ship came to rest on the ground, a ramp seemed to roll out of nowhere,
providing an opening for exit and entry.  Nick stared, waiting for the
worst, hoping for the best.  He was relieved when Sirok appeared in his
three legged, shiny metal contraption.

“Slimy! Holy
Jesus, am I glad to see you!” Nick crowed. Sirok gave him a glare from all four
eyes, silently reminding Nick that the nickname Slimy irritated him, a fact
which Sirok had reminded him of just hours ago.

Nick’s grin
faded, but only marginally.  He was so damn thankful to be alive he didn’t
care who was mad at him, as long as he had someone on his team. Frankly, the
gooey alien gave Nick the creeps, but he didn’t want
him
to know that.

“It’s not slime,
it’s protective mucous. It has natural antibiotic properties,” Sirok said
defensively.  

Ignoring Nick,
he buzzed over to Arya. “We spotted the Dragoran Raptor on approach to the
planet, and I thought maybe you could use some backup down here. Looks like I
was right. Fortunately, the magnetic storm at the pole was strong enough to
mask the Ashok’s presence as the Dragorans approached.”

Arya walked up
and patted Sirok’s metal rover. “Thanks, Sirok, we owe you for that one.” A
mischievous gleam came over her face. “Ever fly a Dragoran Raptor?”

“Raptor?”
Sirok’s body almost appeared to elongate with sudden enthusiasm, and his voice
held a tone of delight. “No. Never. Could I?” All four of his eyes opened wide
as he waited for Arya’s answer.

“We need someone
to fly it back to the ship.”

“Well, okay, if
you insist.” The words barely left his mouth before he turned and sped toward
the Dragoran ship sitting nearby.

“I knew he’d
like that.” Arya smiled. “Any new toy makes him happy. He loves technology,”
she said as she watched him zoom off.

Nick let out a
single, short laugh. “Yeah, I know. I have to keep going to his quarters to get
back the things he’s ‘
borrowed
’ from me. Just once I wish they weren’t
covered in slime.” Nick leaned toward Arya, speaking softly for her ears only.
“Just curious.  Does he ever get out of that contraption of his?”

“Well, actually
he—”

Arya’s com-badge
squawked with a frustrating interruption from none other than Sirok.  “Uh,
guys…you better come take at look at this.”

“Speak of the
devil,” Nick murmured.

The team dropped
what they were doing and converged on the Raptor class ship, weapons drawn. As
they rounded the vessel, clearly visible through the back hatch, an Arisian sat
chained to a metal bench. The young male had obviously been captured and
beaten. Blood oozed from his nose and mouth, and he had noticeable scrapes and
cuts over his body. His green skin seemed pale for his race, and he was
definitely dehydrated and weak.

“What is your
name?” Arya asked as the team worked to free him.

He mustered an
answer from his dry throat. “I am Arnon. The Dragorans came, slaughtered my
village, and took me prisoner. They were looking for information about some
alien craft and a Resistance ship that was harboring it. We knew nothing, but
they persisted. They killed the women and children one by one. We told them we
didn’t know. We pleaded with them, but they kept on killing and killing….” He
coughed, too weak and dehydrated to continue.

“It’s okay,
you’re safe. Rest now.” Arya turned away, her eyes wet with tears. She walked
out of the ship with Nick following a few steps behind.

“You alright?”
Nick asked softly. He was well aware the Dragorans had been looking for him and
his module when they tortured and murdered the Arisians, and the knowledge
didn’t sit well with him. He felt responsible for Arnon’s pain and loss.
 And he now worried that Arya would blame him, that they would all blame
him for this horrible mistake, this accident he could never hope to control.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

If it wasn’t for
the Mok’tu’s potential ability to recreate his hyperspace technology, Nick
would just fly the module into a sun and end all of this. It would be so easy.
But he had no choice. The Mok’tu already knew too much. He had to do everything
he could to stop those bastards. He had promised Argos he would help, and he
was a man of his word. But he hadn’t expected the Dragorans to slaughter
innocent people to find him. He had been so naïve. He should have seen it
coming. As much as he wanted to end it right now, there was too much at stake.
He had to press on.

Arya turned
away. “Please, I just need to be alone right now.” She walked away, her head
down and shoulders slumped.

Nick paused and
stared after her.  He didn’t have the right words to console her. 
There was probably nothing he could say that would make her feel better anyway.
Like it or not, this mess was his fault.

Feeling out of
place in this insane world he had stumbled into, Nick turned and wandered back
to the transport. The thought of all those innocent people being murdered
because of him stuck like a thorn in his mind.

Back at the
ship, Karg was unusually quiet while he prepped the transport for liftoff. Nick
sat on a log, keeping to himself. It would be nice to get off this dreary hunk
of rock and back to the Ashok while he was still alive.

Nick was still
lost in self-criticism when Arya stepped around the corner of the transport. He
tried not to notice that her eyes were still wet from sobbing, but his attempt
failed. Her eyes were so full of pain.

“Karg, you and
Nick take the transport back. I’ll fly Sirok’s Saber,” Arya said.

Since the Saber
was a one-man fighter, Nick didn’t feel shunned by the arrangement. He hopped
up from the log to board the transport behind Karg. It was a relief to finally
get underway.

“It’s not your
fault,” Arya announced.

Nick turned to
look back at her. It was a kind gesture, but he knew the truth. If he hadn’t
shown up in their neck of the woods, those people—
her
people would still
be alive. “Thanks, I appreciate the sentiment, but we both know the truth.
Those people are dead because of me.” He paused for a moment and stared intently
into her pain-filled eyes.  “You may see me as a bumbling idiot alien.
But…I promise you that I will not let their deaths be in vain.” With that, Nick
dropped his head and stepped into the transport.

Arya smiled
through her tears as she watched him board. How could she tell him that she
didn’t see him as a bumbling alien? He had to be the one in the prophecy. Brave
and
humble.
He had to be, she could feel it. She walked around
the transport and headed for the Saber perched nearby, happy that Sirok had
agreed to take the Raptor back to the ship for her. She wasn’t in the mood to
deal with the stink of the Dragorans. The disgusting creatures didn’t seem to
believe in bathing. She’d love to get a look at the Raptor’s systems, but her
sensitive nose would just have to wait until the maintenance bots gave it a
good cleaning.

Her mind drifted
back to the prophecy. She prayed she was right about Nick. The situation had
grown even more dire for her people. As much as the Resistance tried to fight
the enemy invaders, they were losing ground daily. The fact was, without some
divine help, this sector of space was doomed to suffer at the hands of the
monstrous beings, possibly forever. Nick had to be the one.

“Has to be,” she
murmured as she took her seat in the Saber.

Nick watched out
of the transport window as they lifted off the ground. He was happy to be
leaving the freakish planet. Still, even more than ever now, he felt as if his
fate were hanging in the balance. Captain Argos would not be happy to hear of the
Dragoran’s latest slaughtering, and would surely be even less delighted to know
Nick was the cause.

The roar of a
transport pod leaving the hangar bay echoed through the corridors of the ship.
Nick raised his head out of his notebook to listen, his brow lowered.
Who
the heck is leaving in a transport? We’re not even close to any systems.
Perhaps there’s another ship nearby?
He closed his notebook, dropped it on
the table and headed to find Karg.

As Nick stepped
through the doorway of the hangar bay, he found Karg staring at the stars
through the open bay door. One of the transport pods was missing. “Karg, who
just left?”

Karg answered
without breaking his stare. “Arya. She went to negotiate for supplies on that
commerce planet we passed yesterday.”

Nick stood next
to Karg and stared out of the bay through the haze of the force-field. “Who
went with her? I mean, I thought the three of us were sort of a team.”

Karg turned his
head toward Nick as much as his short muscular neck would allow and looked at
him with a forlorn expression in his big, red monster eyes.  

“No one,” the
big guy said. “She went alone.”

Nick’s voice
raised an octave. “Alone? Why the hell did you let her go alone?” He was
surprised that she would have gone by herself, and equally surprised that
anyone would let her.

“Captain’s
orders,” Karg replied dutifully.

Nick’s face
scrunched in confusion as he gazed up at Karg. “Didn’t Argos say it was too
dangerous for us to risk going there?”

“Yup. That’s why
we
aren’t.  The three of us would be too conspicuous. But—”

“She could blend
in better alone,” Nick interrupted. “I still don’t like it. It’s too risky.
What if she gets into trouble?”

Karg looked at
Nick. It was easy to see the concern on his face. “Nothin’ we can do about it. Orders
are orders. She’ll be alright. She can take care of herself.”

A sense of gloom
seemed to fill the room as the two stood in silence. Nick was uncomfortable
with the situation, and he could see Karg wasn’t dealing with it very well
either, so he offered the only solution he could come up with in the moment.
“Hey, how about I show you how to play Chess. I finally finished making the
pieces. Okay, so it’s not a first rate job, the pieces don’t look exactly like
the real thing, but it will still be fun. What do ya say, buddy?” Nick gave
Karg a smack on the shoulder, or as high as he could reach, then pulled his
hand away and stared at his buzzing fingers. Karg’s muscle bound body was like
hitting concrete.  No give to it at all.

Karg turned
toward the doorway. “No thanks. I think I’ll just go back to my quarters and
turn in.”

Nick was itching
to play a game of Chess.  It would take his mind off Arya being alone down
there on that planet, and it would probably cheer Karg too. “Come on, you’ve
been pestering me all week, asking when I would teach you. It’ll be fun.”

“Alright, but I
hope you lose more gracefully than Sirok does.” Karg grinned, showing a row of
wide, blunt, and very large teeth.  The grin made him look like an ogre
and came off more like a grimace than anything else, but Nick was getting used
to it.

“That’s
right.  A little game of chess between the boys,” Nick said as they made
their way to his quarters.  “Take our mind off our problems for
awhile.  That’s the way the boys do it back home.  Put our heads in
the sand and hope no one shoots us in the ass.”

Despite his
cavalier words, Nick’s mind was still on Arya and the hope that she would come
back in one piece. He may have landed in this sector of the universe by
accident and mucked up their world even more than it was already mucked up, but
these three were friends now. They had a connection. Part of that connection
was based on a similar need for survival, but part was also…well, the normal
trajectory of friendship. Get your ass nearly blown off and you tend to bond
with the rest of the team who were also worried about getting their asses blown
off. Watch each other’s backsides enough and friendship would develop. Nick had
a right to be worried. The dangers on that planet were obvious, and Arya was a
damn fool for going there alone.

Meanwhile,
several sectors away, aboard the Dragoran Dreadnought Grok….

The Grok’s First
Officer turned from his position at the communications console. “Captain,
Commodore Tawyk on priority-one channel.”

Captain D’rog
released a low, raspy groan. “I’ll take it in my quarters, Lieutenant.”

The centrally
located chair swiveled and rocked as D’rog stood and headed for the door at the
rear of the bridge. As he approached, the pneumatic door swished open,
revealing the Captain’s quarters. Its strategic location directly off the
bridge was a design common to all Dragoran vessels. The feature gave the
Captain quick access to command in case of an emergency.

D’rog made his
way through the hot and humid room to his desk, where he sat down and activated
his vid-link. The reddish glow of an overhead infrared light bathed him in
warmth as he sat in his extravagantly decorated chair.

A strong, deep,
computer-synthesized voice requested his security clearance. “Priority authorization
required,” the voice prompted.

D’rog answered
without hesitation. He was well accustomed to the routine precautions. “Hektura
tok neth.” He stared at the monitor while the system scanned his large, scaly
reptilian head.

“Voice print and
facial identification recognized.”

The monitor
displayed the image of an impatient Commodore Tawyk. “Why haven’t you secured
my prize, Captain?” The Commodore’s sharp teeth showed through his sneer.

“Sir, they have
eluded capture. They are—”

Commodore Tawyk
interrupted with a guttural roar. “You mean they’ve eluded
you!
I’m not
interested in
excuses,
Captain! I chose you because your records
indicated you were the perfect choice for this mission. Was I
wrong?
”

“No, Sir. I will
capture that ship. You have my word.” D’rog’s posture straightened.

The Commodore’s
lip rose on one side as he leaned into the vid-screen. A stream of saliva
slipped from his upper teeth, falling onto his lower jaw as his lip quivered in
anger. “You better, Captain. Your life depends on it, as well as the lives of
your family. And you have my word on that!” The screen went blank, leaving the
Commodore’s final angry words reverberating off the walls of the room. The
remarks circled around in D’rog’s head as he sat staring at the blank screen.
Anger and fear welled up from inside him until he was bursting at the seams
with rage.

D’rog jumped up
from his chair and swung his powerful reptilian arm. The objects on his desk
went flying across the room, shattering into small pieces as they impacted the
wall with intense force. “This small Resistance cell is cunning, but they will
not embarrass me again!” he snarled.

A few days
later, on the Ashok….

Nick had a
tendency to get wrapped up in his thoughts and forget to eat, but a loud growl
from his stomach and a gnawing sensation of hunger reminded him that food was
accessible and he should get a bite while the getting was good.  Maybe he
could swing by and get Karg on the way to the mess hall. 

Sirok’s voice
was clearly audible in the hallway as he approached Karg’s quarters. “Sorry,
Karg. No word from Arya yet. She was probably just delayed. You know her. She
wouldn’t contact us if she was afraid it would give away her position, or ours.
Probably just lying low. We’ll hear from her soon.”

“Let me know if
you hear anything,” Karg replied. 

Nick listened
intently. The big guy sounded a little down, still worried about his friend.

Nick stepped
into the open doorway of Karg’s berth and knocked on the wall. Karg always
seemed to leave his door open. Kind of reminded Nick of his sister. Her door
was always open. Personally, he preferred to keep his closed, probably just out
of habit. As a kid, if he left his door open, his sister would always interrupt
him and mess with his stuff. Back then he wished she would leave him alone. Now
he longed for one of her silly interruptions.

Karg turned to
see Nick standing there in his usual thoughtful daze. “Nick, come in.”

Nick snapped out
of his nostalgic trip. “I was headed to eat. Thought I’d see what you were
doing.”

“I’m not doing
anything really, just taking advantage of the downtime to clean my rifle. I
like to be prepared. I can always eat, though.”  Karg set his plasma rifle
down on the table in front of him and tossed the rag he’d been using on top of
it.

Nick noticed a
picture of Arya lying next to the gun on the table. “Still nothing from Arya,
huh?”

“No.” Karg
replied without looking at Nick. “The wondering is starting to get to me. I’m
sure she’s okay, though. She’s real good at taking care of herself.”

“Yeah, I’m
sure.” Nick could tell Karg was worried about her. So was he. He just wasn’t
about to admit it. Not even to himself. He had to
try
to believe she was
alright.

“Come on, let’s
grab some grub,” Nick said.

Karg gave Nick a
strange look. “You don’t even want to know how that translated.” He visibly
cringed, which was an unusual thing to watch.

“Food. Grub is
food. I’m starving. Let’s eat.” Nick’s stomach twisted and gurgled at the
thought. “You coming?”

Karg jumped up
and followed Nick out the door.

“She’ll be
okay,” Nick muttered.  “She has to be okay.”