White-hot agony shoots into my knuckles and up through my wrist. I ignore the pain and grab the barrel with my other hand, using my attacker's own momentum to propel him closer to me. With pins and needles pricking up and down my arm, I lift my forearm and bring it crashing down on the black clad limb so hard bones crack.
The puny ISC guard dies screaming as I pull my blade from my chest harness and bury it in his throat. Crimson sprays in a wide arc as I yank my knife free of him, letting him free fall to the ground with a wet thump.
Adrenaline floods my veins, urging me to fall into instinct, but I use my years of training and stay firmly in control of my motions. Wiping the filthy blade on my water-resistant suit, I slide it back into its holster and stalk forward.
"Well, if they didn't already know we're here, they do now," Thret rumbles, stepping around me and sending me an angry glance. I roll my shoulders and force my dense fur to settle, knowing Thret thinks of nothing beyond the mission. His thick, bony plates reflect the soft yellow light from the floorboards, causing his silhouette to shift through the shadows.
"I don't hear an alarm, and it's not like he had enough time to sound one."
At my retort, Commander Ru'en snarls and stalks forward. His white pupils narrow in his black irises, relaying his annoyance.
"We can't take chances, Cahress. These ISC bastards are too conniving. Take the rear."
His shoulder grazes mine as he passes, chilling my skin despite our temperature regulated suits. A rare Frigent, Commander Ru'en's blood runs like liquid ice in his veins—even through both of our suits he sucks the heat right out of my flesh.
Usually he doesn't run so cold, but a few weeks ago another Warrior Elite pummeled him into the ground, turning the normally grim alpha into a cruel beast. With the added adrenaline of our mission, he pulls all traces of warmth from the air, creating an almost visible cloud of icicles around him.
Commander Ru'en strides past Thret and leads the way down the darkened hall, his footsteps eerily silent on the backlit floor panels.
Thret follows him on equally quiet feet.
Jokur taps my shoulder. The dark markings around his eyes camouflages well in the dim lighting, but my keen eyesight sees him point at himself then motion toward the rear, letting me know he wants me to go in front. I nod and follow Thret.
We haven't heard anything from Choku, which is a blessing. His special skills make him the perfect candidate for sneaking to the other side of the mountain and securing any potential exits. If he hasn't contacted us via our suits' communication units, then we don't have to worry about ISC reinforcements showing up out of nowhere, like they did when Warrior Elite Team 1 began the first invasion of an ISC facility on this planet, Mai'CuS.
I dart across the first doorway and keep my attention trained further down the hall, waiting for Commander Ru'en and Thret to clear the room. They exit empty-handed with the scent of death clinging to their suits.
The moment they exit the room, I continue to the nearest doorway and check the surrounding wall for hidden cameras or traps and swipe the hacked chip hidden in my wristband across the card reader. I surge forward, entering the room before the door fully opens, and lunge across the space. My knife pierces the beta's temple before he finishes sitting up. He falls back onto the bed and jerks as I slice his throat. Several seconds later, he lies as still as death. A quick perusal of the room shows no other beings within, so I wave Jokur out and follow him into the hall.
Only three other doors remain—one on the left, one on the right, and the reinforced door at the end of the hall.
Commander Ru'en glares at me, relaying his unhappiness over my disobedience—because how dare I not be last in formation—before he unlocks the last door on the right and disappears into the darker room. Thret follows him in, an unnecessary precaution, but we don't take chances.
For over a decade we've fought together in the worst places. We've killed innumerable foes and done unspeakable deeds, yet we've also saved countless innocent souls, including most of my family, in our war against the ISC.
The largest scientific body across the known galaxies, the ISC hides in plain sight. They began long ago as a company intended for good, but over time, they became corrupt. Entire branches do as they wish, mostly without recourse, using the funding and support of the company to conduct vile experiments. We've encountered horrifying scenes and conditions over the years, but every time we questioned personnel, the answer has always been the same.
No one knows who leads the evil branches of the ISC. Cut off one leader's head and two more rise to take their place.
My teammates and I each began our own quests to rid the galaxy of ISC scum on our own terms, but when we one-by-one crossed paths, we knew we'd never find a better team. Commander Ru'en has a mind created for tactics, even with his grumpy façade, and I trust him with my life. I know I'll never find a better leader.
He exits the room and falls in behind Jokur as I approach the last barracks room. A quick sweep of the surroundings, swipe of my wristband, and silent attack later, and my team remains the only living creatures within the narrow hall.
Nestled in the caves of a barren mountain range, this facility should only hold a few rooms beyond the reinforced door. We had no clue tiny compounds like this existed until a few weeks ago—right after Commander Ru'en got his ass beat by a fellow Warrior Elite from Team 1.
The concept of tiny pockets of evil tucked anywhere along the surface of the planet is terrifying and daunting, especially since we intend to stay on Mai'CuS for the rest of our lifespans.
Almost a decade ago, we met a convincing and talented omega spy, Commander Minette, and her war bred alpha, Commander Draukir. They pitched their spiel of intentions and won our loyalty by proving their skills.
Our common enemy—the ISC—and the threat to our peoples brought us here. We need a place to live in safety. Mai'CuS will be that place.
We must rid it of pests first, which is why we're infiltrating this compound in the middle of the night, with no backup beyond our own skills.
With every room devoid of life, Commander Ru'en approaches the heavy metal door.
My gut tightens, the familiar sense of dread infecting my chest and sending tingles down my spine. It weighs down the tip of my tapered tail, but I flex my muscles and force it into a ready position.
Nothing good ever hides behind doors locked by the ISC. I can only pray that whatever lies beyond remains healthy enough for medical care or is already dead.
Instinct tells me we won't be that fortunate this time.
Using a fallen guard's key card, Commander Ru'en unlocks the door and cracks it open. He stands, poised to strike, with less than an inch between the door and the frame. Several seconds tick by as we remain on high alert, listening for any alarms or signs of trouble. When none arise, we stalk forward on silent feet, leaving a few yards between each of us for safety's sake.
The fluorescent lighting makes the white walls and floor painfully bright. I shift my knife within my grasp, getting a better hold on the hilt as my heart thuds against my breastbone.
Faint wails leak through the two doors, the sound growing louder as we stalk closer. Commander Ru'en and Thret head to the furthest vestibule, while Jokur and I crouch on either side of the unassuming door over halfway down the long hall.
More than three voices create the endless sounds of agony, and although none of us show it, the pain infects our hearts.
Commander Ru'en taps his own shoulder and crouches low. Three seconds later, Thret and I use key cards we took from the ISC guards we murdered to open the doors and rush in.
Crimson colors my vision.
Strapped to a chair in the middle of the room sits a broken omega. Patches of her skin look blacker than barbecue while thin vertical lines on her torso, face, and limbs seep blood. Though sheared to her scalp in several places, what remains of her hair sports caked blood and other unmentionable substances.
A human alpha, covered head to toe in white, wields a thin surgical instrument as he hovers over her. I fling my arm and watch as my knife somersaults through the space between us. It sinks into his bicep and forces him to drop his weapon. His subsequent shout ends on a wet gurgle as I yank a second knife from my chest harness and lunge across the room, burying my blade between his face shield and chest protection. Dark red liquid spews from his neck in a wide arc as I kick his stomach, keeping my knife tight in my grip.
The wailing doesn't stop. It surrounds me, bombarding me from both sides and sending streaks of pain into my soul.
An emaciated form lies curled on the bed, barely more than sallow flesh wrapped around frail bones. A machine whirs near the head of the threadbare mattress, an ugly brown liquid flowing through the clear tubes and into the human's arm.
She screams in time with the bound omega, their sounds of misery so in sync my own heart quails at the implication.
When I step toward the husk of a human on the bed, Jokur finishes checking the corners of the room before approaching the omega in the chair. I don't hesitate, sensing how little time these individuals have left to live if they don't receive proper medical care.
Reading the dials and switches on the machine leaves me with more questions than answers, so I squat down next to the bed and take off the top half of my mask, keeping the bottom half sealed over my nose and mouth in case of an airborne attack.
"Look at me."
The woman does not stop screaming. I touch the back of her hand, only to yank back in horror when blood bursts from her flesh.
Jokur yells. I turn. The omega's hand bleeds freely. Bile rises in my throat as I realize her new injury sprouts from where I touched the female on the bed.
"Shit! What do we do?" Jokur puts my own thoughts into words. Movement from the corner of my eye makes me surge to my feet, ready for whatever attack may come.
The large, rectangular frame embedded into the far wall morphs to a mirror before becoming opaque, revealing the room beyond.
An alpha stands strapped to a torture device in the center of the room, facing the frame. Three white clad corpses lay in heaps on the floor while Commander Ru'en and Thret stand on either side of the high-tech torture device.
"We get them out of here. That's what we do," Commander Ru'en demands in a tight voice.
A few heavy seconds pass as we gather our mental defenses.
"The female on the bed cannot be touched."
I point to their hands, including the alpha's identical wound in the gesture.
"We'll do what we can. Provide quick first aid and prep them for travel. We can't stay."
Jokur curses and squats down in front of the chair as Thret pivots to stand in front of the unknown alpha, their movements quick and efficient as they take off the top of their helmets and pull out their first aid kits.
I follow suit, returning my attention to the woman on the bed. She resembles a skeleton more than a human, so sick I can't tell if she's omega or beta.
Glancing over my shoulder as I grab my first aid kit, I grit my teeth as silence sits heavy in the terror-filled air. Knowing Commander Ru'en won't approve, I ease a comforting rumble through my chest.
"Hi, little female. You don't know me, but I'm here to take you away from here."
Cloudy eyes meet mine and her mouth opens, but no sound comes out. With steady hands despite the fury and fear swirling through my chest, I turn off the machine and crimp the line a few inches above her port before cutting the tube with the tiny, sterile pair of scissors in my kit. Keeping my gloves away from her flesh, I secure the end of the line to her forearm with a loose bandage. As I slide my attention to her bleeding hand, all chaos breaks loose.
One moment limp, the next seizing, she jerks and writhes so hard the bed shakes despite being bolted to the floor. Thick brownish blood pours from her hand, mouth, and eyes, the gory scene made worse as her flesh tears open with each movement. I press her into the mattress with a forearm across her shoulders and thighs, trying to protect her from herself, but she's lost to the world.
She stops moving. Stops breathing. Stops bleeding.
With my emotions in turmoil but my body locked tight within my cold control, I rise and discover the other two victims in the same state—dead.
There's too much blood soaked into the mattress for any hope of resuscitation.
"Drag or burn?" Thret asks without emotion.
I grit my teeth and ignore the memories flashing through my mind's eye. Time and time again I find myself in similar horror and time and time again I make it through by the tip of my tail.
"Burn."
Commander Ru'en's decision fills me with both relief and horror. Dragging bloody corpses through the mountains holds zero appeal but setting the bodies on fire always sends the weight of finality through my soul.
Needing no other instruction since we've spent years completing missions together, we move in unison, pulling little oblong discs from our belts and placing them in opposite corners of the room. I toss my detonator to Jokur and stalk into the hall, keeping my gait even and senses alert despite the sludge roiling in my stomach.
Such evil leaves a stain on the soul, even after a decade of exposure.
I slide the top half of my mask back into place and set my sights on the outer door. Wanting nothing more than to feel the cool, fresh air shifting through my thick, tan undercoat, I squash the desire and continue forward, pushing through the reinforced door and entering the first room on the right. After placing a disk in the far corner, I exit into the hall and follow Thret as he heads toward the outer door, his second explosive already placed in the second room on the right.
Jokur joins our procession after placing his disc in the room on the opposite side of the hall. Commander Ru'en brings up the rear, catching Jokur's detonator after he tosses it over his shoulder.
The outer door swings open at Thret's vicious shove, slamming against the jagged wall of the cave so hard the metal warps. He sprints the last three steps before lunging into the darkness.
I follow him, throwing my body over the lip of the cave and free falling for a few glorious moments. I wish I could enjoy the wind ruffling my dense pelt, whistling through my whiskers, and streaming over the broad base of my tail, but my suit provides a necessary barricade between myself and the world. I reach out and grab a shallow outcropping. Swinging my momentum sideways into a wide arc, I release the handhold and jump from jagged rock to jagged rock until the mountains rise to cover the lightening sky.
As the first light of dawn teases the horizon, I leap one last time, propelling my body over the maze of deadly boulders along the outer rim of the mountain range and fall for long moments until my boots thud against hard-packed clay. Sprinting forward, I move out of Jokur's landing spot but stay close to the base of the large stone boulder.
Behind us lies death and misery, hidden within cold stone.
Ahead of us lies the vast emptiness of sand and sky, and a future littered with more pain.
As Commander Ru'en lands on the baked clay, a flash of light erupts on the horizon. We turn as one, homing in on the abnormality. Just north of where the sun should rise from the desert, flames eat at what can only be a space craft.
Our boots pound against the dry, cracked land as we head toward the wreckage. Despite our suits regulating the air within, the moment the sun crests the dunes, sweat trickles down my back. My heart hammers so hard against my breastbone I almost miss Commander Ru'en's discussion with base camp through our communicators.
Even though my life consists of nothing except darkness, a thicker sense of dread pulls me toward the crash. My heart demands I move faster, the miles between my body and the explosions too many. For what, I don't know, but the draw yanks me onward until my thighs ache and my pulse pounds in my ears.
I can't fail again today.
My instincts tell me too much is at stake, even if my mind has no idea why.