Page 9

RIVERA

D arkness greeted me first, then pain. The fall knocked the wind from my lungs and left me sprawled on cold stone. I blinked, waiting for my vision to adjust to the dim emergency lighting that flickered erratically overhead.

"Varek?" My voice echoed through the chamber, bouncing back at me mockingly. No answer.

I pushed myself up, wincing as my elbow protested. The floor collapse had dropped me at least ten meters down, into what looked like a maintenance sublevel. Above me, the jagged hole I'd fallen through showed nothing but darkness. No sign of Varek.

"Varek!" I tried again, louder this time. Nothing but the groan of failing machinery answered me.

The silence in my head felt wrong. The connection, that strange resonance between my markings and his lifelines – gone. Or at least muffled beyond recognition. The absence left an emptiness that disturbed me more than I wanted to admit.

A shower of sparks erupted from a nearby conduit, briefly illuminating the chamber. Damaged tech surrounded me – ceiling panels hanging by frayed cables, swinging like macabre decorations. A maintenance drone bumped repeatedly into a wall, its navigation systems clearly fried. Another one lay on its side, legs moving uselessly in the air.

I pulled out my scanner, hoping against hope. The cracked display flickered weakly, showing intermittent readings before dying completely.

"Perfect," I muttered, shoving it back into my pocket.

My markings tingled, responding to the chaotic energy signatures all around me. Silver light traced patterns along my forearms, providing better illumination than the emergency lights. But the signals they sent to my brain felt scrambled – danger warnings blending with system readings in a confusing jumble.

I took a deep breath. Panic wouldn't help.

Okay, engineer. Assess. Survive. Solve the problem.

First priority: determine if there was any way back up to where I'd been separated from Varek. I studied the walls, looking for maintenance ladders, access shafts, anything. Nothing. The walls were smooth, and the ceiling too high to reach.

"Damn it, Varek," I hissed, irrationally angry at him for not catching me, for not being here. "Some protector you turned out to be."

The moment the words left my mouth, I regretted them. Not his fault. Not mine either. Just bad luck and ancient, failing tech. And he had tried. He'd lunged for me. He'd gotten us through that energy field. He'd been... reliable. Infuriatingly so.

I missed his presence more than made sense. His silent confidence. His strength. Even his irritating protectiveness.

A distant crash echoed through the ruins, followed by the groan of shifting metal. This place was actively falling apart around me. Standing still wasn't an option.

Two corridors led away from the chamber – one bathed in flickering red emergency light, the other nearly pitch black. My markings pulsed stronger toward the darker path. System noise or genuine reading? No way to tell.

I chose the lighted corridor. At least I could see where I was going.

The corridor curved gradually downward, taking me deeper into the ruins. Condensation dripped from the ceiling, creating small puddles that reflected the stuttering emergency lights. My footsteps echoed too loudly in the silence, accompanied by the occasional skittering sound that I desperately hoped was just more malfunctioning maintenance drones.

After twenty minutes of careful progress, I came upon a junction. The corridor split three ways, with a damaged console set into the wall at the center point. Unlike everything else I'd encountered, this console still had power – its display glowing with faint blue light.

I approached cautiously, wiping dust from the screen. A map flickered to life, showing a schematic of this section of the ruins. Most of it appeared corrupted, but I could make out my approximate location and what looked like a central chamber about half a kilometer ahead.

"Now we're talking," I murmured, studying the possible routes.

The most direct path was blocked by a warning symbol. Some kind of security system still active? The alternative route would take twice as long, looping around through what appeared to be storage areas.

I didn't have time for detours. The direct path it was.

The corridor narrowed as I continued, the ceiling dropping lower. The emergency lights grew more sporadic, leaving stretches of complete darkness between pools of red illumination. My markings provided enough light to navigate by, their silver glow reflecting off the damp walls.

I rounded a corner and froze. Ahead, a laser grid crisscrossed the corridor, red beams cutting through the darkness at unpredictable intervals. As I watched, the pattern shifted, beams deactivating in one spot only to reappear in another.

"Great. Just great."

I studied the grid, looking for a pattern. There wasn't one – the system was damaged, cycling randomly through different configurations. No way to predict when or where the next beam would appear.

Behind the grid, I could see a heavy security door, partially open. If I could get through, it would put me on the direct path to the central chamber.

I knelt beside an access panel near the grid's power source. The cover came off easily, revealing a mess of circuits and power conduits. My markings flared brighter as I reached toward it, responding to the energy flowing through the system.

"Let's see what we're working with here."

The security system drew power from a primary conduit, with a backup system ready to engage if the main one failed. Standard redundancy. But there was a third connection – something feeding diagnostic data back to a central system that probably hadn't functioned in centuries.

If I rerouted the diagnostic feed to create a power loop...

I pulled a thin metal tool from my pocket and carefully separated the diagnostic cable from its connector. The laser grid flickered but remained active. Sweat trickled down my temples as I spliced the cable into the primary power circuit, creating a feedback loop.

The grid flickered more rapidly, the pattern of beams becoming even more chaotic.

"Come on," I muttered. "Overload already."

A spark jumped from the circuit board, singeing my fingertips. I jerked back as more sparks followed, the system protesting the impossible power configuration I'd created.

With a loud pop and the smell of burning insulation, the grid failed completely. The lasers disappeared.

I didn't waste time celebrating. The bypass wouldn't last long – the backup system would kick in soon. I sprinted through the deactivated grid toward the partially open door.

Just as I reached it, a warning alarm sounded. Red lights flashed along the corridor walls. The door began to close automatically.

I dove through the narrowing gap, my jacket catching on the edge. A sharp tug freed me just as the door slammed shut behind me, cutting off a piece of my sleeve.

"That was too close," I gasped, heart pounding.

Behind the door, I heard the laser grid reactivate, followed by a series of electrical pops and a small explosion. My bypass had caused more damage than intended. Hopefully it wouldn't trigger a cascade failure through other systems.

I allowed myself a moment of pride. Problem solved, no alien warrior required. I'd navigated the hazard using my brain instead of brute force.

"See? Don't need a giant alien babysitter after all," I said aloud, as if Varek could hear me.

The momentary satisfaction faded quickly. I was still alone in a failing ancient facility, with no clear way out and no backup. The corridor ahead stretched into darkness, silent except for the distant sound of machinery grinding to a halt.

After navigating two more junctions and a partially collapsed section of corridor, I found myself in a small alcove that might have once been a monitoring station. The space offered a temporary reprieve – no obvious hazards, and the structure seemed more stable than the areas I'd passed through.

I sank down against the wall, stretching my legs out in front of me. My knee throbbed where I'd banged it crawling through the collapsed section, and a scrape on my palm stung when I flexed my hand.

The relative quiet pressed in around me – just the soft drip of water and the occasional distant groan of shifting metal. My own breathing sounded too loud in the stillness.

I closed my eyes, trying to sense any trace of the connection with Varek. Nothing. Just the usual chatter of my markings responding to the ambient energy in the ruins. The emptiness left me unsettled, like missing a limb I hadn't known I had until it was gone.

The memory of Varek tackling me away from falling rocks played through my mind. His body covering mine, shielding me without hesitation. The way he'd caught me when I jumped across that chasm, his hands strong and sure. How he'd positioned himself between me and the energy storm, taking the brunt of it himself.

"Damn it," I muttered, annoyed at the direction of my thoughts.

I didn't want to need him. Didn't want to miss his presence. But I did.

The bond flare when we'd touched – that moment of connection when his lifelines and my markings had synchronized – still confused me. The heat that had rushed through my body hadn't felt like simple proximity or danger response. It had felt like... recognition. Like something clicking into place.

Is the bond influencing how I feel? Or is it just... him?

I shook my head, trying to clear it. These thoughts weren't helping my situation.

A faint glimmer caught my eye, drawing me back to the present. Something embedded in the wall across from me reflected the silver light of my markings. I pushed myself up and crossed the small space to investigate.

A data crystal, partially exposed where the wall panel had cracked open. It emitted a weak energy signature that my markings responded to, pulsing brighter as I reached toward it.

I carefully extracted the crystal from its housing. Unlike most of the technology I'd encountered in the ruins, this seemed relatively intact. The crystal was warm to the touch, its interior swirling with faint patterns of light.

I turned it in my hand, studying it from different angles. A schematic flickered to life within the crystal – complex energy flow patterns unlike standard Nyxari design. The diagram showed what looked like environmental control systems, with a recurring symbol marking key junction points.

The symbol tugged at my memory. I'd seen it before, on my scanner readings just before the device overloaded. Something to do with atmospheric regulation?

Without context, I couldn't determine its exact significance. But the crystal clearly contained valuable information – possibly about the facility's systems, maybe even clues about what caused the instability in the first place.

I carefully tucked the crystal into my pocket. If – when – I found Varek, this might help us understand what we were dealing with.

"Okay, Varek, wherever you are," I said to the empty room, "let's see if your rock-sniffing found anything this useful."

The thought of him methodically tracking through the ruins, following his instincts and senses, brought an unexpected smile to my face. For all his frustrating adherence to rules and tradition, the Nyxari warrior had proven himself capable and adaptable.

I pushed myself to my feet, renewed determination flowing through me. Find Varek. Combine our knowledge. Get out of here alive.

I studied the exits from the alcove, looking for any sign of recent passage – disturbed dust, shifted debris, anything that might indicate Varek had come this way.

Nothing obvious, but my markings pulsed stronger toward the rightmost corridor. This time, the signal felt clearer, more focused than the chaotic readings I'd gotten earlier.

"Worth a shot," I muttered, heading into the corridor, the silver light of my markings leading the way.