“Please be seated, Commander,” Captain Hodge said politely as she returned to her own seat.
Hesitantly, Yen sat. “Ma’am, if this is about…”
Captain Hodge raised her hand, cutting him off. “I don’t care about Merric right now. There is more to the mission than what I briefed. I didn’t just select you to be the ground forces commander because of your previous experience in the Infantry. If that were my criteria, I would have selected any number of actual Infantry Officers instead of picking a pilot who has been moonlighting as a soldier.”
Yen nodded, taking the backhanded insult in stride.
“I selected you because of your unique talents. I hope I have not been misled about how far your powers have evolved since you first came aboard.”
Closing his eyes, Yen let the power coalesce in his hand. The blue serpent formed in his hand, weaving around his fingers and up his wrist.
“You have become quite talented with your powers, Commander,” Captain Hodge said, smiling. “I also notice that you don’t seem to suffer from the headaches you once had every time you used your abilities.”
Yen’s eyes opened slowly. Captain Hodge was right, though Yen hadn’t noticed in some time. After surviving Purseus II with Adam, Yen had suffered terrible headaches every time he used his psychic powers for anything other than the most mundane uses. Without his realization, the headaches had slowly lessened before disappearing all together. During his shore leave, he had used his powers almost haphazardly without any side effects. And the uses of his powers when with Keryn…
“After you disable the satellite grid and ensure all your teams are dispersed to their correct locations,” Captain Hodge began as she reactivated the hologram of Earth, “I want you to take your team here, to the Empire’s capital.” On the sphere hanging above the table, a large red dot appeared over a major city on the eastern coast of one of the continents.
“And once I get there?” Yen asked, intrigued.
“A team has already been prepared for you, with one of your former Infantry cohorts as your second in command.”
Yen frowned. There were few “former cohorts” of Yen’s still alive. “You mean Buren. I would prefer you sent someone else.”
“I don’t really care what you prefer,” the Captain said coldly. “You and Magistrate Buren will lead your team into their capital. There will be other teams on the ground that will keep their main force occupied. Your objective is to find and capture a Terran scientist, Doctor Solomon.”
“What did this guy do?” Yen asked.
“He was the lead researcher on two projects that you might find interesting. The first was a series of experiments using the newly discovered chemical, Deplitoxide. I think you remember its use during the last Fleet engagement.”
“And the other,” Yen asked, dreading her reply.
“He was also the lead scientist on a genetics project, working specifically with mutated genomes. Apparently, he found that it was possible to mutate a docile load bearing beast into a pathological killing machine.”
Yen could feel his jaw muscles clenching and unclenching. “If this doctor really is to blame for what happened to my team on Purseus, then I’m going to tear him apart.”
“No, you won’t. Your orders are to capture him and bring him back alive. He has too much information in that head of his for you to remove it from his shoulders. Can you handle this mission, or should I give it solely to Magistrate Buren.”
Breathing heavily, Yen looked down at the blue tendril that squirmed in his hand in eager anticipation. Smiling sadistically, he turned to Captain Hodge. “This is my mission. I’ll find your good doctor. Earth doesn’t have an army big enough to stop me.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The room spun as Keryn was lifted from her feet and slammed hard onto the mat. Staring up at the ceiling, she tried to get her bearings, but the room refused to quit turning. Sighing, she covered her eyes with her hands and tried to stop the disorienting sense of vertigo.
“Good,” the rumbling Oterian voice commented from above her, “but you left yourself exposed for a grapple. Next time, strike and withdraw. Give the enemy nothing to grab a hold of.”
Slowly opening her eyes, she stared into the massive face of her Oterian instructor. The Oterian, the latest in a long line of instructors, had been embarrassing Keryn in hand-to-hand combat for the better part of an hour. Having been trained for years in the Wyndgaart fighting styles, she quickly discovered how humiliating it felt to repeatedly find herself staring up at the ceiling.
Groaning, Keryn rolled over onto her side and propped herself up on an elbow. Tonight, she was sure that she would be spending a good portion of the evening with ice packs along her ribs and lower back, easing the pain of bruised muscles and aching joints. Looking through the one eye still not badly swollen, Keryn could see the rest of the team standing on the far edge of the padded mat. Half the group, Adam included, hadn’t been in the ring yet. Adam, smiling as she caught his eye, still held onto his smug confidence. The other half of the team already knew better, as they sat on the side nursing new wounds.
“Did you hear what I said, Keryn?” the instructor asked.
Keryn reached up and took the Oterian’s hand and pulled herself to her feet. “Yes, I did. I’ll go practice for a while on my own. However, I believe Adam is ready for a solid block of instruction.”
Adam’s stunned expression was perfect retribution for his earlier mocking. Keryn smiled as she moved to the side of the room and lay down on the floor. The cool metal floor felt wonderful on her sore back, but she kept enough awareness to be able to watch Adam during his sparing match with the Oterian.
To Adam’s credit, his tall Pilgrim stature didn’t look nearly as daunting against the eight-foot tall Oterian as it had seemed when Keryn had faced their instructor. Removing his shirt, Adam stood ready. Keryn noted the strong muscles across his arms, shoulders and back, coupled with a rainbow of colored bruises covered most of his exposed torso. The older bruises had already faded to a sickly yellow, while the more recent ones were still an ugly purple. Dropping into a fighting crouch, Adam wisely waited for the instructor to approach him as opposed to the other way around. The reach of the Oterian left Adam at a disadvantage should he try to initiate the attack. Smiling, the instructor moved quickly forward in an attempt to smother Adam in his large, fur covered arms. Ducking and slipping agilely to the side, Adam maneuvered himself out of the path of the Oterian and struck out with a quick side kick. His foot landed roughly on the instructor’s ribs, who flinched as he moved away. Smiling to himself, Adam slid back and readjusted his low fighter’s stance.
“That was a good move, Adam,” the Oterian rumbled. “You caught me by surprise, but I can guarantee it won’t happen again.”
“We’ll see about that,” Adam replied confidently.
The instructor moved forward, but with greater caution this time around. Keryn shook her head at Adam’s brashness. She had watched three others before him approach their fights with much the same confidence, only to be decimated by the surprisingly fast Oterian. Watching the instructor’s nostrils flare, Keryn knew that Adam was about to be exposed to the same punishment she had endured.
As the Oterian lashed out with one of his huge fists, Keryn watched Adam dart easily out of the way, shifting his stance as he stopped a few feet to the left of his previous position. From his new position, Adam had a clear view of the instructor’s large ribcage from where the Oterian had overextended on his strike. Keryn frowned. Inadvertently, Adam had moved directly into a trap. The Oterian’s strike had been much too slow for him to have been fully committed to the attack. Adam was in trouble and didn’t even yet realize the world of pain to which he was about to be introduced.