Alliance ch 6: Insanity Thrives

Puddles left by the recent rain formed scribbles of moonlight across the landing field beside the emperor’s palace. Imino Lake was a glittering blob stretched out behind it as Revel K’alaqk walked down the ramp of a vaguely bird-shaped transport. Its team of pilots bustled about the vehicle as a flurry of officials needing the emperor’s immediate attention descended upon him.

Watching through a tall window, Atok did not comprehend how Revel could stand this. Did he not prefer to fly his own ship, and would he not rather that ship be small, fast, and maneuverable? Atok tolerated hordes he could hide in, but he certainly did not want to be the center of a crowd’s attention. Nor would he stand in front of recorders spreading their data across the media and speak to masses of people he could not see or hear.

Revel was an Aylata Watcher, too, but he was also emperor now, as bespoken by the traditional, intricately wrapped robe he wore. No diadem or headdress yet topped his leaning pikes of black hair, but an official coronation at the end of the month was set to change that.

As the emperor entered his palace, a smile grew. ‘Welcome back, Atok.’

‘Sentiments returned.’ He abandoned the window and ghosted through the third-story hall, overly fancy rooms on his left. To his right, the view of the foyer peeked between gargantuan pillars and a lattice railing, all formed of foggy crystal.

Revel accepted the greeting with a warm mental hum. ‘I trust you know where I have been.’

‘Reiceilako District.’

Revel had been tight-lipped about this project, even more so than for any of the others, but Mind Aylata saw secrets as easily as they saw lies—a twinkle like a lone star in a dark sky. These snippets had been scattered across a great many individuals, leaving Atok to collect and piece them together.

He was Revel’s closest confidant. Why had Revel told him nothing?

He knew, deep down. He had planned a trip to Skaelao. If his father had gotten ahold of him, nothing short of death would have kept his secrets. Yet, it stung.

‘We need not a new Aylata Tower,’ Atok whispered, as he knew Revel knew he would. ‘Especially not one in Reiceilako. That is the middle of nowhere.’

‘Exactly.’

The current Aylata Tower was here in Kobolast, attached to the emperor’s palace by a deep tunnel. The pair of massive buildings sat on the shore of Imino Lake surrounded by an ancient forest, many of the trees wider than most transports. Noble mansions dotted the soft hills.

In contrast, Reiceilako was on the Yakru-Tsira border in the middle of world’s largest desert. Sand poured into its rocky canyons, their gaping maws never satisfied. Caves and mines hid beneath the ever-changing surface. It rarely rained, but when it did, it poured. Reiceilako went through Protectors like Topeca went through shoes—Atok could not recall ever seeing her wear the same pair twice.

Plus, if he remembered correctly…

‘Your mother disappeared in Reiceilako.’

Revel did not respond.

‘You think your mother’s disappearance and your father’s death are in any way connected?’ Atok threw that out there, then waited, crouched in the shadows of the pillars.

After a long hesitation, Revel replied, ‘Could be. I did pick Reiceilako because of my mother, in part.’

‘You grew up in this Tower. Why not let them fix it?’

‘That was not his plan.’

Ah, the stupid plan. No matter how far Atok dug, he never found the end of it, and it made no sense.

‘He planned for the computer to break?’

‘Yes and no.’

‘Either he did or he did not.’ Atok snorted as a third choice materialized in his mind. The Ravida, ruler of the Aylata race in all but name and the mediator between them and the emperor, had planned for their capitol tower to go dark. Its computer would break, but in a different way, at a different time, and by someone else’s hand—someone other than the Tala/Knalcal prisoner named Navaria Twi.

Really, how could he have planned that? He had never met the girl. Ravida Vuet K’alaqk may have been a master strategist, but his plans could only be as good as the information he used to craft them.

Atok’s hallway curved over the main promenade as if a wave aiming to swallow the chandeliers of floating, luminous prisms. He kept low, invisible behind the railing, but Revel aimed a nod at him.

‘You are on the right track.’

The guards and others surrounding him exchanged skeptical looks. None of their questions would have elicited a nod with such a victorious grin.

Atok stopped behind a column, annoyance smoldering. Like his father, Revel could launch someone’s train of thought with nothing more than a word and have it arrive at his predicted destination. Most vexing of all, it worked even on those who knew this, and Atok was not the only one who felt that way.

Seven years ago, he had hidden behind a similar column and heard the Ravida vent his frustration. “I cannot rely on Revel. Sense abandons him.”

“Your son shares your incredible talent.” Fear had dripped from High Defender Bril Dekkom. What got in the Ravida’s way was wiped out of existence, and, as Atok would come to learn, the same fate awaited whatever did not fit in his plans.

“It is worse,” the Ravida had fumed. “He is not a wildcard I can set aside and ignore. He affects the reactions of others, like how you worry more about protecting him than the danger I tell you he is.”

Once they had gone, seventeen-year-old Atok had resumed his mission with doubled zeal. His entire life, Revel K’alaqk had been painted as his rival, and this overheard conversation only confirmed the monstrous picture in his mind.

Yet, Revel was nothing like he had thought. Yes, he was two years older and taller, but he was not a laughing maniac. He did not draw his Ier or throw laser-bladed kanabers as soon as Atok entered the room. He did not even acknowledge his presence, just continued to read.

Atok had not known what to do. Surely, Revel knew he was there. It had to be a trap.

Finally, Revel lowered the datapad and stared at the spot where Atok indecisively hid. “You are from Skealao?”

Atok started at the unexpected words, then jumped up. “You say that because I’m short?” He tried to affect a blurry Yakru accent, but offense muddled it.

Doubt shoved at Revel’s eyebrows, one arching higher, the other lowering. “Atetu are known for their lack of height, not Skaelao.” His gaze rested on Atok’s collar.

Feeling stupid, Atok raised his hand to cover the Skaelao insignia there. As all Aylata emblems were, it was of polished srassamene, more luminous than the finest silver. Its simple curves representing an abstract weeping eye had likely caught the light.

“In this tradition-bound society of ours, I can tell a lot about you by your attire,” Revel continued. “You are a Watcher, for instance, and you are a Quanko. You are too young to be the Refraction Leader, however, or either of his two oldest sons, but they are Protectors anyway. You must be Atok. I am Revel.”

After that odd introduction, Revel had been able to tell this would-be assassin how he had gotten in and how he planned to leave once the deed was done. He even rattled off Atok’s backup escape plan and claimed he had already told Messenger Pozan all this, so Atok had better come up with a new plan.

“Insanity thrives in you!” Atok had shouted.

Revel had shrugged. “Perhaps. Do you still plan to kill me?”

No. Instead, he had saved Topeca that day from other Skaelao agents, though he still did not know why she had been dressed as her brother and wandering the halls of Aylata Tower. Topeca, it seemed, was always getting into trouble.

‘There are too many memories of this place,’ Revel whispered now.

Atok ran to catch up. ‘You mean the fact that I was able to sneak in so many times?’

‘With as young as we are, consider how much we know, then compare that with how much someone like your father has been able to learn in his lifetime.’

‘But the Raveshna—your mother—vanished in Reiceilako. That makes not the best of recommendations,’ Atok argued.

‘Reiceilako has secrets of its own. I plan to use them.’

‘Do you know what those secrets are?’

Revel had been there when his mother went missing. The empress had found him, and he had remained unconscious for weeks, unable to remember any of his ordeal even after waking. Yet, perhaps his amnesia was not as deep as implied.

‘My father himself searched for answers within me.’ A speck of anger slipped through Revel’s eternally calm façade. ‘If answers were there, he would have found them. No, I do not know what the secrets are. Not yet.’

Curiosity stirred within Atok, eager to find these secrets. They must have been amazing if not even the Ravida could figure out what had befallen his wife. Now he was dead, and it might all be connected. Atok longed to figuratively dig into Reiceilako’s sands and…

He shook his head. He would not let Revel win him that easily.

Too late, he had to admit.

‘I still think it is a bad idea,’ he whispered, but his tone lacked true heart.

‘Noted. Enough about my trip. What did you find in Skaelao?’

‘My cousin.’

Revel stiffened, alarmed gaze scanning the upper levels, but Atok was well hidden. The guards raised their weapons, methodically scouring the scene above, but they found no target.

Atok grinned. He deliberately used the most general word for cousin, not specifying relative age or relation through paternal or maternal lines. Inevitably, the first of his cousins to come to Revel’s mind would be Xlack Ekymé.

‘My mother’s nephew. Not my father’s,’ he corrected.

‘Farav or Vyvio Kwask, then.’

‘Vyvio has agreed to work with us. He will keep tabs on my father and report to me when he can.’

‘To spy on Refraction Leader Quanko is hardly safe, even for a relative of his.’

Atok’s stare was unfocused, a sadness there he would never have let show had anyone been able to see him. ‘It was odd, going unseen in my own home. I let not my mother know I was there, and not even…’ He folded his emotions in once again, veneer back in place. ‘No one unnecessarily saw me, I am certain.’

‘You are skilled at sneaking,’ Revel teased.

‘As any Watcher would be. Which reminds me…’

He sent a memory flash of his encounter with Topeca’s security. Revel continued the conversations around him as he watched, and two flavors of envy simmered in Atok’s chest. One wanted that level of skill for himself. The other wanted Revel’s undivided attention on this matter.

He finished with, ‘They are pathetic.’

‘You should not pick like so on the guards,’ Revel warned.

‘She will get kidnapped or worse right under those guards’ noses.’

‘If you were the one that meant her harm.’

Atok vaulted over the rail and landed in the middle of their gathering. To the guards, he appeared out of nowhere, and their unease urged them to shoot first and ask questions later.

“Stop!” Revel shouted, voice unnaturally loud and commanding. Its authority froze everyone in place.

The shout suggestion hit Atok like a wall, but he shook it aside. “Who, think you, would they send? A Skaelao Watcher? That is what I am!”

Anxiety swirled around the guards, grips tightening on their shooters.

“Leave us,” Revel ordered.

As non-combatants slinked away, the guards’ questioning eyes shifted between their emperor and the Watcher standing before them. Surely, he did not mean for them to abandon him.

Atok caught one’s gaze, snatched up a handful of their wild emotions, and hurled it in the man’s face. “Leave.”

His target fled. Another triggered a shooter. Revel pushed its barrel down, and the darter scarred the floor.

“Leave,” Revel commanded again, and this time the guards discreetly departed.

Though his gaze did not follow them, Revel waited until the last one disappeared into a far-flung side room. “Did you learn of this plan while in Skaelao?”

Atok’s hair slapped his cheeks as he shook his head. Perhaps it was time for a haircut. “No, but it is logic’s conclusion. You set her up as a symbol against them, then leave her virtually unprotected. I could almost guess you use her as bait.”

“Topeca has proven to be good bait in times past.” That grin again. Too calm. Too confident.

“Do you view her as a person or as just another tool?”

The grin morphed in a frowned. “I love Topeca. I would not trade her for anyone or anything.”

“How about everything?” Atok met his gaze, and defiance stalked around them. “Would you trade her for everything?”

Revel let the question hang far too long as his scrutiny slithered across Atok’s skin, cold and sticky like a reptile’s feet.

“I thought I heard your voice, Revel!” Topeca raced around the corner, silken locks flying behind her. Seeing Atok, she stopped short and drew her sheer robe further closed, though her lacy nightdress was just as decent as anything she wore during the day. “Why the tight faces? What have you been talking about?”

Revel smiled warmly at her and spread his arms in an invitation for a hug. “Everything.”

She flew into his embrace.

Atok continued to glare. ‘Always with these evasive answers. By “everything” I mean your father’s plan. What if it gets her killed like it did him? Which would you choose, the plan or her?’

Revel peeked at him, arms still tight around Topeca, and the longing that had plagued Atok as he snuck through her room renewed. He had no one to hold. Much as he did not want to admit it, he was alone here.

‘Answer me.’

‘I ask for trust.’ With a sigh, Revel released his wife, though she continued to cling to him. ‘That is my price.’

***

Xlack wondered if someone—Mystis maybe—had bribed the official. Despite his seeming abundance of dislike for them, his report on Hrausq Seven-One-Nine’s performance gushed with praise. That combined with their impressive time completing the relay, and they passed the first phase of the reorder.

“Par-oh-shee tournament,” Xlack read from a screen above the door as they walked into the arena where phase two would be held. “Sounds like fun, whatever it is.”

“I have no particular fondness for parooshee,” Rifo grumbled.

“Is that because you’re not very good at it?”

Rifo shot him a dubious look.

“How does it work? Not more racing and babysitting, I hope.”

“Parooshee is played in the dark,” Lanox cut in, boundless energy transforming her ankles into springs as she skipped alongside the rest of the group. “Oh, sorry, Rifo. Did ya want to tell him?”

“Go ahead.” Rifo waved her on.

She smiled bright as a daystar. “All the important pieces glow, like the stripes on our jumpsuits, the staves we swing, the jewels we guard, and the eight spheres we hit at each other. A net that goes all the way to the ceiling separates two teams of eight, and it doesn’t glow, surprisingly, nor do its roving holes. Only the team members with the title Recovery can touch a sphere with their hands. Everyone else has to use their staves.”

“To do what, exactly?” Xlack surveyed the stadium. Stretching into shadowed heights, tiered rows of seats surrounded a circular floor cluttered with hard, rectangular mats. A line bisected each court, gems of different sheens stacked along the edges of either side. “How do you win?”

“Ya have to hit the spheres through the holes and knock down the jewels lining the opposing team’s court.”

While that sounded simple, after changing into an appropriate jumpsuit, picking up a staff, and trying his own hand at this game, Xlack concluded that the net’s migrating holes were annoying. Most of the occasions when a ball finally made it past the net, the opposing team just volleyed it back anyway.

At least the crowd seemed mildly entertained, even oohing at times. With fifty-six matches played simultaneously, there was plenty for them to watch. He spotted several familiar faces in the audience—members of other low-ranker teams living in the same base who evidently hadn’t qualified to compete in this phase. They hollered encouragement and advice at their favorites.

When their opponents’ last gem toppled, several cheered for Hrausq Seven-One-Nine. As the team walked to an adjacent court to face their next rivals, Xlack waved to their supporters.

‘Look at ya, acting like a celebrity,’ Rifo chided. Nervousness rolled off him, heavy and thick as mud.

‘I was a celebrity back on Napix, you know,’ Xlack replied. ‘Ravi are to succeed the Ravida as the highest-ranked Aylata. We’re always in the spotlight, everything we do watched and judged.’

He understood Rifo’s unease, though, after six months of dodging the public’s eye as an Adjuvant and the never-ending lectures if he failed to do so. The same discomfort radiated off their competitors.

Xlack didn’t care about the attention of other hrausqs, and as the second matches started—twenty-eight simultaneous games this time—he easily tuned them out. The ones who kept calling his attention were the quietest, the ones that didn’t belong. Knalcals, Tala, Lettaplexals, none of them with a drop of Magni blood according to their life-signatures, sitting in packs segregated from the rest by imaginary fences.

“Why are they here?” he asked as they waited for the third team to face them to get in position.

“Good question.” Rifo shifted his gaze around the arena.

As Xlack did the same, his eyes caught on a group of stiff Knalcal Military Officials uniformed in long, wide pants and high-collared jackets. Rows of diagonal sashes flowed from their left shoulders, and self-importance hung over them like a cloud, thick enough he could smell it. His nose crinkled.

“The queen invited them,” Twi answered, “but she will not see what she hopes.”

The lights dimmed, signaling the start of the third matches, but while Xlack could block out the crowd, his own racing thoughts were not so quickly quelled. What did the queen hope to see? If Adjuvants and all Magni were believed to be myths and such views were encouraged for good reasons, why would these outsiders be allowed here?

Something to do with the Knalcal queen?

He didn’t know much about the woman or her relationship with Adjuvants. Was it similar to the Napix emperor and Aylata?

Speaking of which, what were those Napix troopers up to? Why had they killed an Aberrant teacher in Mumir Complex and stolen most of his students?

Adjuvants and Aberrant aren’t friends.

They were more like felere and giela—the former were Magni, the latter Napix, both fierce predators respected and avoided by creatures of their own worlds. Put them in the same room, and the fight would be bloody. One or both animals would die.

But the Adjuvants took in those two Aberrant kids I rescued.

He had been assured they were now in the care of capable Adjuvant teachers, but ultimately, they were Aberrant. How were they being treated? Did they feel as conflicted and confused as he did?

It was mightily hard to turn on one’s own people.

He recalled scrambling for the shooter, hands moving on instinct, then stopping before he could fire. Aylata did not shoot troopers. It was beneath them.

Troopers did not fire at Aylata either. They took orders from Messengers and Defenders and warily avoided Protectors and Watchers.

They had fired at him.

Maybe they didn’t recognize me as an Aylata.

His attire didn’t mark him as such—no family sigil on his pant leg, no territory insignia at his collar—and his eyes’ green-gold chrysolite overlay only heralded his Magni heritage.

It still hurts.

He had left Napix six months ago and had said himself he could never go home, but the true meaning of those words sunk in now like a knife, hilt disappearing in his gut.

What would they have done if they knew they found Xlack Ekymé, First Ravi and ultimate deserter?

He stopped, glowing staff lowered. It was now the fourth and final match of the tournament, and he panted from the constant motion the sport demanded. Six other matches played around them, visible as motion-blurred light beyond the glass-like forcefields.

The crowd’s roar was unbearably loud. Most of its Adjuvant members were on their feet, hiding others from his view.

“Ekymé!” Frustration and anger coated Rifo’s call as he deflected a glo-sphere from the back of the court. “Lend Entrycii some maturity, will ya?”

Entrycii hit the glo-sphere back toward Rifo. It evaded his defending staff, careened around him, and slammed into his backside.

“Sorry. I’m such a klutz,” Entrycii excused with a shrug.

“Ya are doing it on purpose! If ya can hit a target so well, hit their jewels.”

“Their jewels don’t get so satisfyingly worked up about it.”

“Enough, Entrycii,” Xlack warned.

“As if you have any right to tell me what to do.” The teen scoffed. “I mean, obviously everybody’s watching me, and not just because the pale azure assigned to our uniforms’ stripes goes so well with my hair.”

“Ya aren’t trying because ya are afraid to mess up in front of everyone?” Rifo guessed.

“The stage fright pouring off you reeks,” Xlack added. “Rifo’s right. You think it’s better to lose on purpose than try and fail. And I think that’s annoying.” Xlack batted a sphere at him.

Entrycii conjured a forcefield. The sphere scraped across its uneven surface, cool glow highlighting the ethereal waves.

Unwilling to let the sphere bounce back, Xlack jerked on Kinetic strings. The ball curved, aimed to circumvent its target and catch him from behind. Entrycii fought to steal influence over it.

Neither paid attention to the game anymore.

Twi skidded to a stop just in front of Xlack and gained influence over a sphere about to smack into him. As Recovery, she had no staff, just a pair of luminous gloves. Having come to a standstill, the sphere Entrycii and Xlack argued over ceased glowing, no longer in valid play. She would have to touch it before it could be thrown back in.

“Pay attention, you two.”

Xlack dropped the sphere, face burning, and Entrycii tossed her the dead ball.

“Heads up!” She lobbed the pair of glowing spheres at Stevalok.

One-two, he sent them racing toward the net. Both missed the migrating hole he had aimed for and ricocheted with the sound of a box of dishes crashing to the floor.

Determined to make it up to Twi, Xlack dove and caught one of the rebounding spheres between the strands of his staff—a mock Aqkashi, yet another common object reflecting Magni design.

And still people believed Magni were myths.

What would they think if he pulled Azin’s real Aqkashi from his pocket and chopped at the annoyingly elusive holes? Considering officials had taken everyone’s weapons and stressed such were not allowed in the competition, he guessed they would not respond favorably.

As he neared the net, he swung the staff and its captured sphere in a wide arc. A cavity appeared in front of him, and he hurled the ball through.

An opposing team member leapt to the defense of their last jewel stack and barely deflected the ball. The power behind it knocked him down, and his teammate paddled the sphere back toward the net.

‘They only have one stack left to guard,’ Twi advised. ‘You have to try something they’re not expecting.’

To his left, Stevalok slammed into Lanox. Pale curls and dark dreadlocks flew as he shoved her out of the way of a hurtling sphere.

“What are you doing wandering around with your eyes closed and swinging aimlessly?” Excitement and exertion flushed Stevalok’s cheeks. His sharp teeth and large irises ominously reflected all the glowing objects.

Lanox peeked out of one eye as she got to her feet. “I don’t want to get hit!”

“Then try not closing your eyes.” Stevalok smacked away a second sphere, and it crashed into yet another ball, one Zeln had hit.

If not for this interference, Zeln’s sphere would have made it through the net. Instead, both globes bounced in harmless directions.

Zeln threw Stevalok a furious glare.

An idea formed in Xlack’s head.

He caught a sphere as another hit by Entrycii made it into the opposing team’s territory. Entrycii’s sphere headed for their opponent’s last jewel stack, obvious and lacking the power to topple it.

As the sphere was deflected, Xlack sent his through. The globes collided, and Entrycii’s reversed, racing toward the jewels. Caught off-guard by its quick return, the team failed to stop it, and the ball crashed into the base gem.

The fragile construction rocked.

The stack did not fall. Though some of the small, top jewels tumbled off, the main structure only swayed, then stabilized.

“Give me two spheres!” He barely heard himself over the crowd, but Twi complied, and he sent both orbs through the net.

The first would have missed the stack completely, but an opponent dove for it anyway. The second sphere slipped through a moment later, aimed at its companion. Yet, since the first had been deflected and was not where Xlack expected it to be, the second smashed through empty space and soared over the still-diving opponent’s back. By the time his teammates behind him saw what was happening, it was too late.

Xlack’s second sphere rammed the chest of one who hadn’t seen it coming. He fell back, shoulders crashing into the base jewel. The gem’s long, flat side hit the floor with a resounding thud.

End of match.

Xlack dropped to his knees. He didn’t think it was possible, but the crowd grew louder—in praise of him or something that happened in one of the other six matches, he couldn’t tell.

Jumping, Lanox threw her arms around both Xlack and Stevalok, then headed for Entrycii. Before she reached him, her glowing boots fled from beneath her, and she dropped full-length on the ground.

“Brat!” She picked herself up and launched into a rapid-fire barrage. Xlack couldn’t discern where one word ended and the next began, sentences either for that matter, and he didn’t feel like trying to figure it out. After the race across Mumir’s chilly walkways, the fight with the Napix visitors, and now four matches of fast-moving parooshee, just sitting here on the cold floor was fine with him.

Stevalok had the same idea, though he lay facedown.

To his left, Zeln, his inborn fire bright and flickering beneath his glassy, charcoal-shaded skin, stood back to back with Aarex. Her overlarge, Lettaplexal eyes and sharp smile were just as disconcerting as Stevalok’s but somehow cuter. Both panted, staring in wonder at the boisterous crowd.

Rifo threw himself in the middle of Entrycii’s and Lanox’s disagreement.

With the end of the match, the net disappeared, and Twi limped toward where it had been. In watching her, Xlack’s gaze fell on the other team, in particular, the lanky Tala he had knocked over for the win. He seemed reluctant to rise, and Xlack hoped he hadn’t seriously hurt him. Maybe Twi headed over there to check.

Xlack started to get up. He should go, too. Technically, Lanox should have walked with Twi, but Lanox was...Lanox. Though Twi wasn’t going far and the other team were Adjuvants as well, he had a suspicious feeling about this whole situation. He would feel a lot safer with himself at Twi’s side.

Officials rushed in. Some surrounded Twi. Others hurried toward the rest of Hrausq Seven-One-Nine. Instantly on his feet, Xlack slipped past the latter administrators and raced toward his hrausq leader.

A Lettaplexal twice his size stepped in his way. “Go back with the rest.”

Xlack walked on. The official’s burly forearm swung at him, but he parried it. The foot wasn’t so easily dodged. As it swept his knees out from under him, he flipped backward, landed on all fours, and charged. A huge hand grabbed the back of his neck but immediately released him, fingers and palm coated in a dark, frozen sheen.

The man flexed his hand, staring in bewilderment.

Twi’s icy glare halted Xlack. A moment later, he sensed Rifo approach from behind and adjusted his temperature so as not to hurt the hand that clasped his shoulder.

“Only hrausq leaders compete in round one of phase three,” Rifo explained, but Xlack's eyes remained glued to Twi as she followed a pair of officials. “We’ll meet up with her at the end of it.”

He didn’t like this idea, not with outsiders speckling the crowd and Napix showing up. If anybody would be a target for those troopers, it would be Twi. He had an awful feeling that if she walked through those doors at the far end of the court, he would never see her again.

“Ya hurt an official,” Rifo said quietly. “Sure, no one expects us to win, but ya aren’t helping our case.”

“What do you want me to do, heal him?” He couldn’t, even if he wanted to. Healing others wasn’t a Talent with which Menageries were endowed. Not that Rifo was well informed about the specifics of his or any Aylata’s Talents.

‘Why are ya so worried about her?’

Xlack flinched as doors closed behind Twi, blocking her from sight.‘The Aberrant sutae was killed by an Aylata and Napix troopers.’

Rifo squashed his own surprise, a worse realization dawning. ‘Ya think they’re after Twi?’

‘Spycykle had her once. K’alaqk did, too.’

Rifo shook his head. ‘This is the main Adjuvant base with insane amounts of security overflowing from its figurative ears. Any Napix intruders would be dead before they reached the front door.’

That fact also bothered Xlack.

Continued in Chapter 7: Unwanted

Thank you for reading!