Harbinger, page 1
Harbinger
A Seraph Universe Novel
Published by Jade Fantasy
Copyright © 2020-2021 Sarah Hawke
Cover Art by Tony Tzanoukakis
Edited by Sean L.
This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this novel are either fictitious or used fictitiously.
All rights reserved.
Dedication
I want to offer a special thanks to all my wonderful supporters on Patreon, especially Alan, Aftermluckycharms, Billy, Commissar, David B., David K., Dumblindeaf, Eric, Joe, Michael B., Michael M., Onyx Bars, Timothy, Tom M., Tom W, and Vladek.
Double mega thanks to my super patrons Alcofribas, Lamar, Paul, and Sean. Without your support, none of this would be possible!
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Prologue
Awaken.
The telepathic command roused Vestri from her psionic slumber. Her eyes flicked open only to immediately be stung by the chemical mixture inside her tank. She was still fully submerged inside the cold green liquid, her naked body suspended by a quartet of equally cold robotic arms that gripped her calves and forearms. Her breaths came slowly and deeply as her rebreather fed her oxygen, and she tried to blink away the lethargy clouding her mind.
She had no concept of how long she had been under. A day? A week? A month? The liquid mixture enveloping her had the same color and temperature as before, so perhaps her rest had been shorter than normal.
A vital task lies before you, a calm, collected female voice said into her mind. Succeed in this, and you shall finally prove yourself worthy of ascension.
Bubbles floated up from Vestri’s rebreather as she flexed the muscles in her arms. As usual, she had fallen asleep in agony but awakened numb. The tank had healed the damage her body inevitably wrought upon itself, though the blissful reprieve never lasted long.
There are others we could send, a second voice, male unlike the first, said into her mind. Those with far more grace and subtlety.
The time for subtlety is over, the female replied. The Seventh Shadow knows too much. If we aren’t careful, her interference could compromise everything.
The tank hissed as the drains opened, but even without the green liquid obscuring her vision, Vestri couldn’t discern much of anything in the darkness outside. The lights in the lab were so low that the other tanks—and the faces of her masters—were little more than vague silhouettes.
The metamorph does not know anything, the male insisted. At worst, she has questions she cannot answer.
You taught her to be clever. She will learn the truth eventually, and if she manages to locate Spider Zero—
The other Spiders will neutralize her long before that happens. You overestimate the threat.
No—I recognize the danger. And I appreciate how quickly even the best-laid plans can unravel. We are not ready for the Eclipse. Not just yet.
The last of the green liquid finally drained, and the robotic arms lowered Vestri to the bottom of the tank. They released their grip at the same moment the curved front of the tank began to slide open. Standing under her own power was nearly always awkward for a few moments. Her muscles didn’t atrophy from disuse—the chemical mixture prevented that—but the vertigo was real and often overwhelming.
“Report,” the woman demanded. Her voice was cold and direct whether spoken aloud or projected telepathically.
“The subject’s vitals remain strong,” the medical AI replied from the wall terminal to the left of the row of tanks. “Brainwave activity has returned to normal.”
“Excellent. And what of the latest test results?”
“Long-term cellular degeneration has slowed by two point three percent, though the subject’s pain receptors remain unresponsive to further treatment.”
The male speaker scoffed contemptuously. “I told you from the beginning that this one is a waste. Her body literally wants to destroy itself.”
“But the pain has made her strong,” the woman replied. “And strength is exactly what we will need in the New Dominion.”
The man grunted. “What about the other test?”
“The subject displayed an eight point two percent increase in resistance to hazardous environmental conditions, even while unconscious,” the AI reported.
“Less than we had hoped.”
“But more than we expected,” the woman replied matter-of-factly. “She is ready. I am certain of it.”
Vestri stretched out her arms and balled her hands into fists as the last of the tank’s liquid dripped down her naked flesh. As always, her memories from before this latest hibernation were hazy and indistinct. The details had been flushed from her mind as effortlessly as the chemicals from this tank. Her nameless masters wanted her primed and focused on the present, not mired in the past. She appreciated the clarity.
“Step forward,” the female voice demanded. “Present yourself.”
Vestri stepped out of the now-open tank. The warm air on the other side felt good on her damp skin, and she dropped to a knee the moment she emerged.
“I await your command, mistress,” she said, her voice sounding almost robotic through her rebreather.
“A new asset has been discovered, one with rare and powerful abilities we have not yet been able to cultivate independently. You will bring him back to us.”
Vestri glanced up as a full-size holoprojection of a human male materialized in front of her. He was young and tall, with a sculpted physique and powerful jawline that spoke to tremendous fortune in the genetic lottery—or very deliberate engineering. A dossier scrolled beside the projection, revealing more: he was the only son of a powerful tech magnate in the heart of Convectorate space—here in the Viraxes Belt.
“Normally, we would simply send a Spider to track him,” the female voice went on. “But the asset is being aided by a Velothi wraith. Wittingly or unwittingly, her abilities conceal those near her from psychic webs. The Spiders are not the proper tool for this hunt—I am convinced that you are.”
“I understand, mistress,” Vestri replied as the hologram shifted to display a young Velothi female.
“No, you don’t,” the male voice said sourly. “There is more to this mission than asset recovery. One of your fellow Shadows has betrayed us—another failure who never lived up to her full potential.”
The image shifted again, this time revealing a human female in her mid-twenties. Other than the blue hair, Vestri could have been staring at her own reflection.
“What are my orders?” she asked.
“Your first task is to clean up their mess,” the female voice said. “Your ship has already been prepared. Travel to Talinus Station and contact me the moment you arrive.”
“We are giving you a chance—one chance—to prove yourself,” the male put in. “The situation is delicate. We must secure the asset before the Intelligence Ministry has time to investigate. If Minister Drathir discovers our plans, the Eclipse may be delayed or even compromised.”
Vestri nodded. “I will not fail you, master.”
She could almost hear his lip curl. “We shall see,” he said. “Never forget that you are a thug. A tool. A mere shadow of the Seraph, easily forgotten and instantly replaced.”
Vestri’s eyes remained locked on the projection of the face she had spent a lifetime learning to hate. She would gladly bring the male shaper back to the Nest if that was what her masters required, but as for the metamorph…
Kaya was going to die. Vestri would make certain of that.
“I know what I am,” she whispered. “I understand my purpose.”
“Good,” the female voice said. “Glory to the Dominion.”
Vestri bowed her head as she slowly rose to her feet. “Honor to the Seraph.”
1
A Taste of Freedom
“Ah!”
“Sorry!” Mysha winced in apology as her delicate blue fingers smeared more of the clear medical gel across Dorian’s bruised ribcage. “I know it’s cold, but the numbing agent should kick in any second. Just try to stay as still as you can, all right?”
He grimaced and focused on taking small breaths while he watched her work. She was being extremely gentle—too gentle, actually, which was the root of the problem. “I’m trying.”
The Velothi’s luminescent white-blue eyes flicked up to meet his gaze, and the corners of her purple lips curled into a faint but decidedly wry smile. “I always knew rich kids were spoiled, but I had no idea they were such babies about pain.”
“It’s not that,” he said. “It’s just…well…”
“Well, what?”
Dorian swallowed. “I’m really ticklish right there.”
Mysha arched a white eyebrow. “Really?” she asked, her smile widening. She lifted her hand until just her fingernails traced along his side. A trail of goosebumps instantly rose in their wake. “I’ll have to remember that…”
He groaned and forced himself to remain still even when she started giggling playfully. There was no hope of escaping her torment, so he might as well suck it up.
He was lying on his back on the only medical bed in the Prowler’s tiny infirmary, where Mysha had been doing her best to administer some basic first aid to his smashed ribs for the past ten minutes or so. Their escape from Talinus Station had been so hurried and frantic that his adrenaline had suppressed the pain for a while, but the reality of his condition had set in not long after they made the jump to hyperspace. He was damn fortunate that Kaya had drawn some of his wounds into herself, restoring his body at the cost of her own health. Otherwise, he might not have been able to breathe at all.
“How did you get your hands on Convectorate koboro gel, anyway?” Dorian asked. “This stuff is almost impossible to find outside major hospitals.”
“We’re professional thieves,” Mysha said dryly. “How do you think?”
Dorian smiled ruefully. “Good point.”
She finished applying the gel, then turned to the small sink to rinse her hands even while her eyes remained glued to the status monitor above the bed. The four sleek, twenty-centimeter-long cranial tendrils that extended from within her white hair to drape across her shoulders furled and twitched in thought.
Dorian had no idea if she possessed any medical training, but that was one of the biggest virtues of koboro—all you needed to do was slather it on and let it work. Its restorative properties almost seemed magical at times…assuming you belonged to one of the lucky species it worked on and you had the credits to afford it.
[The medical scanners confirm what I already told you: the metamorph healed your punctured lung and stopped your internal bleeding,] Ghost’s cool, monotone voice said inside Dorian’s head. [Nevertheless, I would still recommend additional care from a licensed medical professional. Failing that, I could instruct you on the proper procedures once the Velothi female is gone. This infirmary appears remarkably well equipped for its size.]
“I think I’ll be fine,” Dorian said to both of them, suppressing a flash of resentment at the AI that shared his body. He needed to have words with his creation—soon—but that couldn’t happen while Mysha didn’t even know he existed…or the potential threat he posed.
“The koboro will repair most of the damage,” Mysha agreed. “But we should probably have an actual doctor look at this when we get to a port.”
[Interesting. As I surmised, this female appears to possess superior reasoning capabilities to you and the metamorph.]
Dorian bit back a scathing retort. Ghost was fortunate he hadn’t been memory wiped—or purged outright. The sting of his betrayal back on the station hadn’t faded; it had only been pushed into the background by their escape, during which Ghost had been instrumental in helping him save Mysha’s life. But the fact remained that Ghost’s little stunt had gotten Dorian captured and others killed. If the AI hadn’t sent a message to the Convectorate, Dorian might have been on a Seraphim Union ship surrounded by other psychics by now.
Other psychics…but not Kaya and Mysha. The quiet, guilty thought arose from the small part of Dorian that couldn’t help but feel glad for how things had turned out. The girls would probably still be back on Talinus Station doing the Echo’s bidding, and Mysha would still have an active bomb in her brain. Would that really be better…or is this exactly where I was always meant to be?
“Try sitting up and see how it feels,” Mysha said.
Dorian took a slow, centering breath as he leaned up. He dabbed gingerly at the patches of gel around his ribs. His skin would absorb it soon, but it was still cold as hell.
“Don’t pick it at,” Mysha scolded. Turning away, she stepped over the discarded upper half of his dark jumpsuit, then crouched and retrieved a roll of bandages from a burnished storage case before returning to his side. “I bet you’ve never even been shot before, have you?”
“I’d like to think that’s true of most people.”
“You’ve clearly never lived on Cira Narn or any of the Maw Colonies.”
He braced himself as she began to bind his wound. Her skin was so soft that her fingertips felt like feathers on his chest. “True, but this is from getting smacked by a Baalir’s tail. It’s a new experience for me.”
“Well, I doubt he’d ever been sucked into space before, either, so at least you got even.”
Dorian chuckled, then immediately hissed in pain. “Would you believe me if I told you that I’ve never been inside a medical clinic?”
“I suppose I should,” Mysha said. “If you’re rich enough, the doctors come to you.”
Dorian shook his head. “Even when my dad and I were scraping by, he didn’t want me getting a check-up from any doctor at the ports we frequented. He was worried about how people would react to my genetic enhancements.”
“Ah, well, that makes sense. A human with genetic modifications just screams ‘Dominion citizen.’ I doubt there’s a faster way to get yourself shot out here in the Belt.”
“Probably not.”
Dorian watched her as she continued binding his ribs, thoroughly enraptured by her graceful movements. They seemed tailored to draw attention to the subtle curves of her flawless blue body. His lips tingled when he remembered how good it had felt when she’d spontaneously kissed him in the cockpit an hour ago. Seeing Velothi work their sexual wiles in holo-vids was one thing, but experiencing it himself…
Well, “captivating” hardly did them justice.
Mysha had changed out of her form-fitting bodysuit a little while ago, though her “casual wear” was every bit as enticing. Her sleeveless top left her slender but athletic arms bare, and it was cropped just high enough to show off a choice three-centimeter sliver of her blue midriff. Every time she stretched up to reach a cabinet, Dorian received a teasing glimpse of her toned yet soft belly. Her gray pants were just tight enough to show off her shapely legs, and she wore simple non-conductive boots common to spacers everywhere—yet they somehow looked fashionable on her.
What surprised him the most was just how cute he found her tail. Everything he’d read about Velothi body language suggested that it was the key to gauging her mood. Right now, it was swishing contentedly, its tip tracing graceful, looping patterns like an artist’s paintbrush, a sign of happiness and ease.
And quite possibly arousal.
“We still need to figure out where we’re actually going,” Mysha said once she finished with the last dressing. “We might have to hide out somewhere they don’t even have clinics.”
Dorian thoughts snapped back to reality. “Well, hopefully Kaya has some ideas where she can start looking for some answers.”
Mysha paused. Her eyes went distant, though her fingers began slowly stroking the muscles on his arm and stomach. He doubted she even realized she was doing it.
“I’ve never seen her this shaken,” she whispered. “Not that I can blame her. None of it makes any sense.”
Dorian nodded gravely. He couldn’t even begin to fathom what Kaya must have felt when she had looked down at a corpse bearing her own face. Hearing about it had been bad enough. What should have been their moment of triumph had quickly turned to confusion and horror.
“It’s definitely unsettling,” he agreed. “If I saw a vid of myself as a child with a different name…I wouldn’t know what to think. Maybe it’s all just one big coincidence.”
“I don’t believe that for a second,” Mysha said. “She must have told you that she escaped from the Spiders before she found me. Her memories of that time…well, they’re imperfect, to say the least. I always figured she’d repressed them, but anything is possible when the Spiders are involved. She still has nightmares about what they did to her.”
“I can hardly imagine,” Dorian said. “But I know that’s why she’s so adamant about protecting you.”
“And why she betrayed the Echo to come back for you. She acts like a hardcore bitch sometimes, but it’s all a show. You’ve probably figured that out by now.”
He smiled thinly. “More or less.”
Mysha leaned away a few centimeters. One hand remained on his bicep, but the other finally left his chiseled stomach and reached up through her white hair to touch the back of her neck. “A part of me still can’t believe it’s gone,” she whispered. “I’ve spent the last few years believing it would be the death of me. There were times I almost wanted to try to claw it out. Even if it went off, I told myself that at least Kaya would finally be free. The Echo used me to control her, to make her do…things. It always made me sick.”
“Hey, it’s over,” Dorian soothed. “You don’t have to worry about it anymore. I still wouldn’t mind examining it someday, but I guarantee you the Echo won’t be able to reactivate it.”
