The Last Narkoy: Gathow: Book 2 Read online

  She swiped another root from Lolum. “She saved my life. The problem is they know she saved my life. The Marisheio don’t take kindly to their own citizens aiding their enemy.”

  “What harm could a child do to them?” Dranium scoffed.

  “You were unconscious when she rescued us. You’d be surprised what she’s capable of. She’s a sadistic warrior,” Zion mentioned.

  Sedom swallowed hard, finding the words harsher when spoken by someone else. “Yes, well, it took time to hone my skills… and I might have a lot of anger issues,” she pointed out. “Beyond my abilities, look around. Child or not, I would consider me a threat too. By helping me, it made her criminally liable and they charged her with treason. Last time I checked, they had only one punishment for treason.”

  “Death. A very slow one at that,” Zion spoke up. He sat back in his seat, his plate now empty.

  “Needless to say I feel guilty,” Sedom admitted.

  “You have emotions?” Zion joked.

  She returned with an icy glare. “The information I received might be a set-up to capture me. The Marisheio still want Gathow. My disappearing has caused quite a...”

  “Circus?” Lolum asked.

  “Circus?” Sedom paused, trying to recall what the word meant. “Um, well, that’s an interesting choice of words. Sure, you could say that. They’re desperate. The news throughout the galaxy talks that the Di-Braum of Carmintor is seeking a new ally. He is upset over the Narkoy incident and is in the process of signing a pact with the Brokt. The Brokt have been itching to go to battle with the Marisheio and with the aid of the Di-Braum’s ships, all hell will break loose. They need Gathow now more than ever.”

  “Fascinating. I think I'll stick to computers.” Dranium smirked

  “Hell, I’m in charge of understanding this and I still haven’t a clue. It’s a bloody game of chess,” Lolum grumbled low.

  “Find me someone else who understands politics and I’d be happy to reassign you. Until then, you’re the closest person I have to a political advisor,” Sedom mentioned to Lolum.

  “Are you going to need some extra muscle?” Zion asked. Sedom nodded. “How many are we going up against?”

  Again Sedom shrugged as she bit a coarse piece of her fingernail off. She never gave much thought to planning. “Maybe twenty or thirty Marisheio… possibly more. It’s hard to tell.” She leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m certain it will be higher security than normal. I have a reputation.”

  “No doubt,” Lolum chuckled. “You know someone on the inside?” he asked amused Sedom knew so much already.

  Sedom shrugged. “Having Garric around was beneficial for this situation.”

  Zion wiped his mouth and stood. “I need to make a call. Is the com available in the tower?” he asked Dranium.

  “It should be unless the system’s fried again. If it is, let me know and I’ll fix it,” Dranium answered.

  “How are you fixing it without parts?” Sedom questioned.

  Dranium motioned to the door. “I found a parts warehouse on level three,” he mentioned.

  “Qilo?” Lolum questioned Zion over Sedom and Dranium’s conversation. Zion grunted uneasily. “Good idea. He's probably still on the planet, I hope.”

  Sedom followed Zion as he continued to the door. “Who's Qilo?”

  “An old friend who wouldn’t have any problems handling twenty or thirty armed Marisheio. He’s kind of a radical. You’d like him. He’s worked for just about everyone, including your AO project. He’s always looking to get a piece of the Marisheio… and a little money,” Zion explained as they walked to the door. “You do have money?”

  Sedom chuckled to herself. Did she have money? Had he not been paying attention? She pulled out a small bag from her pocket, flashing a handful of firestones from the bag. “How much do you need?” she asked. Zion reached for the bag, but she pulled it away before he could grab it. “And mind you, he better be worth it.”

  Zion snatched the bag, removing two stones. He held them to the light without a wrinkle of surprise. “This will do,” he nodded, his mind deep in thought. “I'll see if he has a friend that wants to join us. I'll contact him while you grab some gear. And I want us fully prepared this time. None of this going in with one pistol and your half-cocked sanity, got it?”

  Sedom cocked her head to the left. Her eyes were like two hollow dots behind thick eyelids, staring directly through him. “My so-called half-cocked sanity saved your life and the lives of two of your friends,” she pointed out.

  He took Sedom by the shoulders, looking sternly into her eyes. His cocoa colored skin glistened in the pale light as beads of sweat gathered on his pronounced forehead. “It’s the only reason why I’d follow you to the ends of the universe. But, let’s try to respond on the side of caution this time. I’m not in the mood to die this week.” He flashed a toothy, unnatural smile in her direction.

  “How about next week?” she half-joked in return.

  Zion nodded several times, trying to decide if she was asking a serious question or joking. “How about we talk about it next week? It gives us something to look forward to. First, let’s see if we can survive this next adventure.”

  Sedom giggled under her breath. “Sounds good.”

  The two separated outside the cafeteria, Zion to call his associate and Sedom to stockpile weapons.

  Inside the weapon's warehouse, Sedom piled four bags with various weapons from small hand phasers, to laser rifles and hand grenades. Anything larger would cause instant alarm and she wanted to get in and out of the city with as little attention as possible.

  “Sedom,” Lolum spoke up, startling her. A hand grenade flew into the air. Without thought, she pushed Lolum to the side and dashed to grab the falling hand grenade.

  Sedom rose, her chest panting from the panic. “Don't ever,” she set the hand grenade on the table with the bags, “scare me like that when I'm in here.”

  Lolum took the hand grenade, examining it. “It’s a sensor pulse grenade. It wouldn't have killed us.”

  “Yes, but it would have caused one heck of a headache.” She snatched it back, setting it in one of the bags. “What do you want?” She took a moment to gather up her long white hair and tied it into a bun-knot to keep it from getting in her way.

  “You wanted me to point out when you're about to make a big mistake. Well, you're about to make a big mistake. Once again, you're going to risk your life, and for what?” he lectured.

  “She saved my life,” Sedom mumbled. “She also is the only one I know that can help cure the symptoms of the Narkoy plague.”

  Lolum forced himself between the table and Sedom, keeping her from packing. “Noral and Evolanc have managed to keep you healthy. I wouldn't worry...”

  She shook her head as she forced Lolum aside. “Matrads,” she began with a deep breath, “Are offspring of Narkoy. My last trip to the city of Crowarl, I noticed many Matrads were ill. I know most people don’t think anything of it since the majority of Matrads are more pets than people, but the problem is if a Matrad can catch the illness, then the plague has altered itself to their DNA. And as you know Crehail are the other halves of Matrads genetics.”

  Lolum leaned back against the table, his face full of worry as he thought. “That means it's only a matter of time before Crehail are affected and infected,” he closed his worried eyes. “Cidele,” he shuddered.

  “Cidele.” Sedom frowned back. “Ratisha has... history. I came to find out she was one of the scientists who helped engineer the sickness. She might not be able to stop it, but at least find some way to… get through without--”

  “Without the same result as what happened to your people,” he surmised. “I understand now. What do you want me to do?” he asked, focused on the task at hand.

  “Do what you do best, govern Gathow, keep your ear to the pulse of the universe and keep managing the patrols,” she said. “I especially need you to keep an eye on the Dormin
s. If they send five ships or more to the Nevet system, tell me.”

  “Why five?” Lolum questioned.

  “It would take five of their ships to transport enough personnel to staff the Oslo,” she explained. He started to ask about the Oslo, only to be silenced with her open hand as Zion approached. “Later.” She pointed to Zion, who was lingering by the door, listening to them.

  “So there's more to this than rescuing some woman?” he asked, feeling the tension in the room and the concern in Lolum. “I should have known there was more to this.”

  “Why a Zalmin?” Lolum joked in regards to Zion's mind-reading abilities.

  Sedom swiveled on her heels, turning her back to the men. “I couldn't leave him behind,” Sedom glanced over to Zion. “Well, I could have, but then I wouldn’t have someone around to complain all the time.”

  “Out with it, Sortec,” Zion hummed.

  “It's complicated.” She tossed him a pistol. “Let's say we need her.”

  Zion caught the weapon. “Complicated?” He motioned to Lolum with a smirk. “What about her isn't complicated?”

  Sedom handed Zion two bags. “Is your friend coming?”

  “He'll be here tonight. He's bringing another friend, didn't say who. I can't vouch for him yet, but I'm sure if Qilo trusts him, he's good. I'm also going to need clearance for him to land.”

  “Fine, I’ll make the arrangements,” Sedom said as she gathered up her bag. “We leave in the morning. Let me know when your friends arrive. I want to know what kind of team I’m leading.” With those words spoken, she left.

  “She’s leading?” Lolum questioned.

  Zion shook his head “I'm going to regret this, aren't I?” he asked Lolum seriously.

  “Yep. You’re young. One day you’ll learn,” Lolum returned.

  “If she lets me live, that is,” he huffed.

  Lolum patted Zion’s shoulder and then walked out the door. All along he kept his chuckles deep within his chest.

  THREE

  In her quarters, Sedom was fast at work sorting through her clothing for something to wear. When she had only one set of clothing, it was far simpler to decide. Now, she had an entire closet to choose from, yet she couldn’t find anything to wear.

  Garric sat at her table watching with an amused smirk. “You'd have an easier time if you'd allow me to organize your closet,” he mentioned.

  Sedom grumbled as she tossed her shoes on her bed along with an armful of clothing. “Trust me, you organize my closet it will be a mess two days later. It's the only part of my life I can't keep straight. My mother used to yell at me all the time about cleaning my closet. No, what I need is a uniform. Something like the Tasgool used to wear,” she mentioned.

  “Tasgool?” Garric questioned.

  She tossed a shirt onto the bed. She paused, her hands on her hips as she stared down at the pile of clothes on her bed. “Yeah, Tasgool. It was what the Narkoy called our military.” She took up a flexible pair of black pants. “That is when we had a military.”

  “It’s been a while,” Garric mentioned. He stood with a stretch, his lime-skin glistening in the low light. “Sortec, I'm your servant. I'm supposed to do these things for you,” he mentioned. “Besides, with your bed covered, where will you sleep?”

  Sedom glanced over to her bed. “On the sofa, as I usually do. That is if I manage to sleep tonight. I always get pumped up before battle. The bed’s here for more of a decoration than anything else.”

  He wandered into her bedroom and leaned against the wall, near the open window. “For the sake of all… why would you want to sleep on the sofa?”

  She grabbed a black top and a pair of pants from the pile on her bed. “Remember that night when your people destroyed my city?” she asked as she took her clothing into the restroom to change.

  Her question instantly aroused old uncertainties in Garric. He uneasily shifted from his right foot to his left. “Yes, yes, I was there,” he spoke with a hoarse voice.

  Sedom's shadow danced on her bedroom wall as she changed. “Were you in my parent's house that night?” she asked forthrightly.

  Garric's throat tightened. “Unfortunately, it was my responsibility to find you. It was only logical that you would be at your own home. When we didn't find you there it surprised me. I almost staked my life on it.”

  Sedom poked her head out of the restroom. “I was there,” she grimaced back. “I saw everything beneath the floorboards of my parents’ bedroom. I heard everything, including my mother's screams while your men raped her, using the mattress to muffle her screams. Then they set the mattress on fire while she lay dying.” She disappeared back into the bathroom. “Since that night I have a fear of mattresses. Well, not so much a fear rather than a loathing. I don’t care much for Marisheio or fire either.”

  She returned, now fully dressed in black. The panicked expression on Garric's said everything. She disregarded his fear and handed him a brush and band.

  “Do you mind? I'm horrible at tying my hair,” she asked. “I probably should cut it short, but I like it long. It makes me feel like I'm still female.”

  Garric happily took the brush and proceeded to tie-up Sedom's hair into a high ponytail. He then twisted the hair around into a braid-bun.

  “I should tell you,” he gasped a deep breath to calm his nerves. “I killed no one that night. Nor did I rape your mother. I was with Talenvanc the entire night, attempting to locate you.”

  Sedom's eyes grew distant, remembering the horrible night. In her mind, she searched through the horrific memory, her eyes peering up through the floor cracks under her parent's house. It had only been two years ago, though it seemed like an eternity, yet still only yesterday. No, she couldn’t recall seeing Garric near her mother. But she did remember him.

  The voices! Yes, that was it! There were voices of Marisheio officers outside the crawl way she hid within. She had to wait for them to pass in order to crawl out from under the house and escape. Garric was the man who reported she left Juvin-que to his superior, Talenvanc.

  “You were outside,” she remembered. “Though if you didn't wear that collar I wouldn't believe you,” she admitted.

  He pulled at the collar slightly. “I'm glad it's good for something other than giving me a headache,” he smirked.

  “A headache?” Sedom turned to Garric, resting her hand on his cheek. “Why didn't you tell me the collar was causing discomfort?”

  “What good would it do? They don't make these for the slave's comfort in mind,” he joked back. “I'm fine, Sortec. You need not show me so much compassion.”

  “It's in the Narkoy’s nature.” Sedom grinned back. “Go see Noral in the morning. Maybe he can find a solution. If not, I'll have to find a way to reprogram another collar.”

  A knock at the door shook both from the horrible memory of that night. “Come in,” Sedom called to the door. Her eyes turned back to her bed, now finding her mess a bit embarrassing. “Maybe you could organize this mess while I'm gone.”

  “Speaking of leaving,” Cidele called out as she entered. In her hands, she carried a large crock of soup. “How long are you going for?” she asked, setting the crock down on the table. She glanced over to Garric and gave him a quick smile. “Garric.”

  “Cidele,” he nodded back complacently.

  Sedom lifted the lid to the crock, inhaling deeply. “Holinbroth?” she asked. As Cidele nodded, her eyes were tense on Sedom as she waited for an answer. “For as long as it takes. I don't know what to expect yet.” Sedom answered as she dipped her finger into the broth to taste it.

  Cidele slapped her hand away. “Bowls,” she scolded.

  Garric proceeded into the kitchen and returned with bowls and spoons for the three of them. Cidele took two bowls, filling one for Sedom, then one for herself, but not for Garric. She received a glaring, fiery glance from Sedom as she handed Garric her bowl.

  “He is my servant and my friend. You will show him the same respect as you would an
yone else,” she warned Cidele.

  When Cidele tried to speak, her voice wavered. “It’s hard to show a monster like him any respect. Remember, he did kill Asa,” she stated with icy words.

  Sedom took the empty bowl, filling it. “What I hear she had a mouth on her. If she would have remained silent, then she'd still be alive,” Sedom grumbled back, then turned to Garric. “Am I correct in assuming that?”

  Garric's eyes turned to his soup. Awkwardly, he cleared his throat. “Like I said, we needed her. She was the sister of the Braum. If nothing else the bounty from her would have been worthwhile keeping her alive. It wasn't my fault-”

  “That her skull was bashed in?” Cidele yelled. She set down her bowl to brace herself against the table. “That woman died because of you, not someone else, but you personally strung her upside-down and… and drove her over horrible terrain allowing her to smash her head into the transport walls over and over and--”

  Sedom grabbed Cidele's arm, pushing her away from the table, positioning herself between the two.

  “Look, he's serving out a life sentence here with us now. The Braum has forgiven him for the acts against his sister. Even Zion manages to get along with him and he was Garric's prisoner. I suggest you put it behind you as well,” she warned.

  Cidele looked over Sedom's shoulder to Garric, who was now sitting at the table staring down at his soup.

  “Fine, only because you ask me to,” she grumbled back. “Know he will always be the enemy in my eyes.”

  Sedom squeezed Cidele's shoulder. “It's not easy for me either, but I believe he's good for a second chance.”

  The com on Sedom's desk beeped. Sedom rushed into her office, stumbling over boxes of supplies to reach the com by the door. “Sortec,” she called out.

  “Sortec, our guests are here,” Zion called back.

  “I'll be right there.” She returned to the dining room to find Cidele still glaring at Garric. He sat nervously at the table, attempting to ignore her.

  “Garric you're with me,” she ordered with a snap of her fingers. “Cidele...” She paused, shaking her head in frustration. “Good soup.”