Page 6 of Sy (Alien Berserkers of Izaea #2)
6
T he knot in Ashley’s shoulders pulled tight as she rolled them… a punishment well deserved for passing out fully clothed on her bed last night. The morning sun made her squint through her tinted goggles as she surveyed the construction site spread out before her. The massive HLV-6000, commonly known as a Hell-V, pile drivers thundered across the red earth like very slow mechanical behemoths, their six legs adjusting with fluid precision as they hammered away at the pre-programmed coordinates.
“Status check on sector four,” she called out, watching the closest driver’s hardened titanium shaft stab down into the soil. The vibrations traveled up through her boots, rattling her teeth even though she was well outside the red zone. Anything within it was in danger of being crushed.
“All readings nominal,” Michelle Trevor, her second in command, called out from her monitoring station. “Dead on the depths the scans predicted.”
Thank god for small mercies. The tightness across Ashley’s shoulders eased a little. At least the Hell-Vs were behaving today. They were temperamental at the best of times, but the semiautomated systems took most of the backbreaking labor out of foundation laying. Not like the horror stories from early colonization efforts. She shivered at the thought. The poor bastards back then probably broke their backs—and spirits—trying to build anything substantial.
“Christ, can you imagine trying to build something like this with ancient equipment?” The words slipped out before she could stop them.
“What’s that, boss?” James, one of the junior engineers, looked up, squinting in the bright sunlight.
“The old days.” She shook her head. “No automated drivers, no quantum scanners. Probably lucky if they had a working laser level. Just manual equipment and prayer, hoping they didn’t hit bedrock at the wrong angle and snap their equipment in half.”
The nearest pile driver paused its rhythmic pounding, running through its preprogrammed checks before shifting position. It looked for all the world like a massive beetle stamping the ground before it settled down again to resume its work.
“Ashley?” Michelle’s voice carried a note any project manager had learned to dread. “Getting some unusual density readings from the next coordinate.”
She headed over, picking her way to avoid getting stuck in the thick mud. Leaning in, she looked at the screen. “Show me.”
The scanner display cleared, and she frowned. From these readouts, harder material lay about thirty meters down, just on the edge of their target depth. Nothing their equipment couldn’t handle, but it would require finesse.
“Good catch.” She tapped commands into her datapad, double-checking the calculations. “Adjust impact force twelve percent and recalibrate the resonance dampeners. Let’s not burn out the driver head on whatever’s down there.”
As Michelle made the adjustments, she swept a look across the site. The cool of early morning was beginning to burn off, and by the feel of it, it was going to be a hot one. That’s why she was insisting on early starts. It was easier when they weren’t working in oven conditions.
“Okay, people, let’s keep it moving,” she called out to the team around her. “I want these foundation points completed before midday. The concrete teams are prepping their equipment, and I don’t want them standing around with their thumbs up their asses waiting on us.”
She turned away from Michelle’s monitoring station, carefully stepping down from the raised platform. A smile tugged at her lips as she spotted Lila crossing the construction site, her daughter’s bright red hair a beacon in the morning sun. Pride swelled in her chest as she watched Lila following the marked safety corridors perfectly, staying within the high-visibility tape boundaries they’d discussed at length.
“Morning, Mom.” Lila’s cheeks were flushed from the walk, her tablet clutched to her chest like always. “The view from that watchtower would be amazing for sketching. Could I go up there for a while?”
Ashley raised an eyebrow. “Have you finished your learning modules for today?”
Lila’s gaze slid away, focusing on something in the distance as she wrinkled her nose. “Could I just do them later? The light’s really good right now.”
The excuse was delivered with practiced earnestness, but Ashley knew that look. She’d used the same one on her own mother countless times. She was about to agree on conditions—maybe an hour of drawing if Lila promised to complete two modules afterward—when movement at the tree line caught her attention.
Her heart stuttered as three shapes emerged from the forest. Ferals—the same ones from yesterday. They were unmistakable, even at this distance. Massive, armored, deadly. The word no was already forming on her lips when a shadow fell across them.
“They won’t come any closer.” Sy’s deep voice came from behind her, and she turned. He gestured toward the watch tower where Kal and Tor had already taken up positions, their faces serious as they scanned the area. “Your daughter will be safe.”
She lowered her voice and stepped closer to him. “Are you insane? I won’t put those boys in danger just so Lila can draw.”
A smile ghosted across his face.
“Those ‘boys’ have been training as warriors since they could walk.” His red eyes tracked the ferals’ movements with casual confidence. “And Tor… well, let’s just say he’s one of the most dangerous ferals here. Even Kraath and Banic keep a close eye on him.”
She glanced back at the teenager and frowned. “What do you mean?”
“What I mean is that your daughter couldn’t be safer.” His expression dropped serious. “Those three won’t dare come closer with Tor here. He’d tear them apart, and they know it.”
“Okay then.” She nodded to her daughter. “But make sure you stay with them. Okay?”
“Sure, Mom. Love you, bye!”
She smiled as Lila darted away across the safety zone toward the tower before she could change her mind. Lila slowed as she approached Kal and Tor, and both boys straightened, their attention laser-focused on her daughter as she approached them.
“So the ferals… They really won’t come closer?” Ashley kept her voice casual as she turned toward the next Hell-V, datapad in hand. She needed to check whether this pile driver would hit the same dense material they’d come across earlier.
“No.” Sy fell into step beside her, his massive frame casting a shadow that made checking readings easier in the bright sunlight. “The northern continent has always been their territory… well, their prison, if we’re being honest. But they’re not stupid.
Her fingers paused over the control panel. “Prison?”
“Mmhmm.” His attention wasn’t on her, his red eyes scanning the tree line again. “The southern fortress was Izaean-only. Any warrior who showed signs of turning feral was sent north. Contained. Controlled.”
The Hell-V’s diagnostic readings scrolled across her screen, but she barely saw them as she looked up. He had red eyes. The security briefing they’d had when they arrived said that Izaeans had normal eyes, and ferals had red eyes. “But you’re…”
“Feral?” His laugh was empty. “Yes. Things have changed recently about what it means to be feral.” He shook his head. “Let’s just say new information has come to light.”
She adjusted the driver’s trajectory while processing his words. “What kind of information?”
“Still emerging.” His voice hardened. “But what we do know suggests that the division between Izaean and feral isn’t as clear-cut as we were led to believe. The transformation itself…” He flexed his hand, and for a moment, Ashley thought she saw something shift beneath his skin. “It’s not a disease or a defect. It’s more like… something else.”
She glanced at the tree line where the three ferals had been. They’d vanished now, melted back into the forest. “Is that why you’re here instead of in the north? Because of this new information?”
The Hell-V’s warning system pinged, drawing her attention back to it. Her mind raced with questions as she adjusted the impact parameters. Above them, she could hear Lila’s laugh, followed by what sounded like Kal’s voice explaining something about the landscape she was sketching. It was the most she’d heard her daughter speak in years. She generally didn’t open up easily to new people.
“Not just that. After the battle for the fortress in the south.” His deep voice wrapped around her. God, he had a voice just made for holo-sex work. “The decision was made to move everyone up here. This position is more easily defensible.”
She glanced at him, noting the tenseness in his shoulders. The sun caught his skin when he turned his head, highlighting silvery scars she hadn’t noticed before. How many of those had he earned in that fight?
“Defensible against what?” The Hell-V’s warning system pinged again, and she quickly adjusted the impact depth, grateful for the distraction. The dense material they’d detected earlier seemed to be spread across the construction zone at varying depths.
The silence stretched long enough that she thought he wouldn’t answer. When he did, his voice was lower, meant only for her ears. “Some things in this galaxy make ferals look tame by comparison.”
A chill ran down her spine despite the growing heat of the day. The way he said it, without drama or emphasis, somehow made it worse. It was like he was stating an obvious fact… water was wet, space was cold, and the monsters in the dark would make these transformed warriors seem like little bunny rabbits.
The Hell-V’s stabilizers whined as they adjusted to the new parameters she’d put in. She looked up at Sy, her throat suddenly tight. What had she gotten herself into? More importantly, what had she gotten Lila into?
She’d researched before accepting this contract… or thought she had. The official reports had mentioned nothing about ferals, let alone threats that made them look tame. Her gaze drifted to the tree line where those transformed warriors had disappeared and then up to the watch tower where Lila sat sketching before looking back at Sy.
He caught the direction of her gaze, and his expression softened as he moved closer. So close that she could feel the heat of his skin against hers, even through her coveralls.
“Don’t worry,” he rumbled in a low voice. “I won’t let anything happen to you or your daughter. You have my word on that.”
The absolute certainty in his tone made her breath catch. But before she could respond, he turned and stalked away, his long strides eating up the distance across the muddy ground. She watched his broad back retreat, noting how the other aliens automatically moved out of his path.
“Okaaay… good talk,” she muttered, shaking her head. Then the Hell-V’s warning system pinged again, drawing her attention back to the present.
Right.
Work.
She had a job to do… mysterious threats and hellishly handsome alien warriors would just have to wait.
Lila traced another line in her sketchbook, glancing up at the alien landscape spread out before the watchtower. The morning sun cast long shadows across the construction site below, where her mom directed workers with her usual focused intensity. A warm breeze ruffled the pages, carrying unfamiliar scents from the dense forest beyond.
Movement at the corner of her eye made her pause. Two Izaean teenagers hovered near the base of the tower, trying to look like no-nonsense guards as well as seeming casual whenever they thought she was looking. They were failing at both. Her heart skipped. She’d seen them in the mess hall yesterday, but up close they were… kind of intimidating.
The shorter one, Kal, had spoken to her mom at dinner last night. He had broad shoulders that made him look like he spent all day working out. His dark blond hair kept falling forward into his eyes.
They weren’t human. She knew that. Even though her mom didn’t think she had, she’d pored over all the documents they’d been given about the planet they were going to. Who wouldn’t with alien berserker warriors around? It was so cool, like something out of a holo-movie.
She fidgeted with her pencil, sneaking another glance at the two Izaean boys. Her heart fluttered as they started climbing the metal stairs to her perch. The clanging of their boots on the steps seemed impossibly loud.
Hunching over her sketchbook, she pretended to be absorbed in her drawing. What was she supposed to say to alien boys? Regular boys were hard enough to talk to, but these two were built like athletes, all carved muscles and impossible height. Not the kind of boys who would be interested in a science nerd like her.
Kal reached the landing first, hovering at the edge like he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. Up close, his shoulders seemed even broader, stretching the fabric of his top. That nervous habit of pushing back his dark blond quiff made him seem more… normal somehow. Less intimidating than the adults.
“Hey,” she managed, her voice coming out croakier than she meant it to. Great, she sounded like a frog.
“Hey.” Kal’s voice cracked slightly on the word, and a flush crept up his neck as he leaned on the support strut opposite. He stared at his hands for a moment as if he wasn’t sure what to do with them and then shoved them in his pockets. Her eyes widened a bit as she focused on the page in front of her. Was he nervous as well?
His friend stayed silent, prowling the edge of the platform with a fluid grace that reminded her of the big cats in the nature documentaries she’d seen. Something about how he moved made the hair on the back of her neck stand up…
She forced herself to look back at her sketchbook, adding random lines that probably didn’t match what she’d already drawn. The silence stretched awkwardly.
“What are you drawing?” Kal finally asked, taking a hesitant step closer.
“Oh, um, just the view.” She angled the book slightly so he could see. “The way the sun hits the trees is really different from Earth.”
Tor drifted closer too, still moving with liquid grace. He didn’t speak, but his head tilted as he studied her sketch, his red eyes intent. This close, she could see how the black coating on his skin shifted and rippled, catching the light like oil on water.
Her fingers itched to capture the effect on paper, but she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by staring. Instead, she focused on adding detail to the tree line, hyperaware of their presence. The platform wasn’t huge, and they were so much bigger than her, but she didn’t feel crowded or scared. Just… nervous in that flutter-stomach way that came with trying to talk to cute boys.
Even if these particular cute boys were alien berserkers-in-training who could bench press a flyer.
“That’s really good,” Kal said, leaning closer to look at her sketch. “The way you captured the light through the trees…”
Heat crept up her neck at the compliment. “Thanks. I like to draw. It helps me think sometimes, you know?” She traced her finger along the edge of the page, not meeting his eyes.
The silence stretched between them again, broken only by the distant sounds of construction below. She looked at the view and then bit her lip as she started packing away her sketchbook and pencils.
“Why are you stopping?” Kal asked, a note of disappointment in his voice. “The drawing isn’t finished.”
She sighed, pulling out her tablet computer from her bag. “My mom’s a slave driver about schoolwork. If I don’t do at least one lesson today, she won’t let me come up here to draw tomorrow.” She glanced at the lengthening shadows. “Besides, the best light for drawing is going away now anyway. Might as well get some studying done.”
She pulled up the lesson on her tablet, the holographic display flickering to life with an image of massive ships against a starfield. To her surprise, Kal settled down next to her, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from his body. Even Tor drifted closer, curiosity flickering across his features.
“What’s that?” Kal asked, pointing to the ships on the screen.
“These were the arc ships that left Earth centuries ago,” she explained, pausing the video and turning the screen so they could see. “Back before we had the kind of faster-than-light travel we use now, humanity sent out these huge ships to colonize other worlds. The crews went into hypersleep… like a really deep frozen sleep because it took them hundreds of years to get to their planets.”
Kal’s eyes widened. “Hundreds of years? Just floating through space?”
“Yeah.” She zoomed in on one of the ships, expanding the hologram. “Each ship was like a small city, with thousands of people sleeping while a small crew and the automated systems kept everything running. Some of them are still out there, actually. They never reached their planets, so no one knows what happened to them.”
“So some of your ancestors might have been on these ships?” Kal asked, reaching out to rotate the hologram with careful movements of his blunt-ended fingers. She risked a glance. He didn’t have claws like Tor.
“People who my ancestors knew, yeah. A lot of the records from back then were lost, but…” She trailed off as she noticed how close they were sitting, their shoulders nearly touching as they both leaned over the display. That cedar-metal scent was stronger now, making her pulse quicken slightly.
She focused on pulling up another image, showing the interior layouts of the arc ships. Better to think about history than how nice Kal’s arm felt pressed against hers or the way his hair fell across his forehead when he leaned forward to study the details.
“Each level had different functions,” she continued, grateful her voice remained steady. “The sleep chambers were in the core, protected by layers of shielding. Then you had hydroponics, life support systems…” She pointed to each section as she named them, hyperaware of Kal’s presence beside her.
“Power generation,” he picked up reading from the screen. “Secondary support systems.”
She blinked, her brain catching up with what just happened. “Wait, you can read Terran? I thought the translation matrices only worked for spoken language.”
“I don’t have a translation matrix.” Kal shrugged, his shoulder brushing against hers with the movement. “I was too young when I came here to have one implanted.”
“You’re not missing much. I had the worst headache for days after they put mine in.” She rubbed the spot behind her ear where the tiny device sat. “Is Tor the same?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t he be?” Kal’s brow furrowed in confusion.
Heat crept up her neck as she gestured vaguely toward Tor, who stood at the railing watching them with those unsettling red eyes. The black armor-like coating on his skin caught the sunlight, making it shimmer. “I just… I wasn’t sure if you were both the same kind of Izaean.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, she wanted to snatch them back.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean… that was probably really offensive.” Her stomach twisted. Way to go, insulting the first aliens who actually wanted to talk to her.
Kal chuckled, the sound warm. “We’re not offended.” He shifted, angling his body toward her. “We’re both Izaean—Lathar with the Blood Rage genetic mutation. But Tor’s mutation is further along than mine.”
She looked between them, noting the differences. Where Kal looked almost human except for his size—way bigger than any human guy she’d seen but nowhere near the size of Sy, who kept hovering around her mom—Tor looked different. “What do you mean, further along?”
“He was nearly killed in a battle not long ago,” Kal explained. “Sometimes that can trigger the changes faster.”
Her gaze snapped back to Tor. He couldn’t be much older than her, but he’d already been in battles.
She looked back at Kal. “Were you in the same battle?”
He nodded. Shit. They’d both been in battles. Like the adults. What the hell were they doing talking to her?
She cleared her throat and clicked the tablet off.
“This must seem really dumb to you then. Like kid’s stuff.”
She moved to slide the tablet into her bag. Her fingers fumbled with the zipper, heat crawling up her neck. She felt stupid, showing them basic history lessons when they’d already seen real combat.
Kal’s hand covered hers, stopping her movements. His palm dwarfed her entire hand, rough with calluses but gentle. Her gaze lifted to his face, and her breath caught.
“Please, we’d like to learn more,” he said, his voice rough. Something in his expression made her heart skip. “We don’t… the only thing we really learn is how to fight. We don’t get lessons like this. It’s interesting. Please?”
The last word came out almost shy, and that, more than anything, made her pause. She glanced at Tor, who had drifted closer, his red eyes fixed on her and the tablet with curiosity. The black coating on his skin rippled as he shifted his weight, but his expression was open and interested.
She offered a small smile, carefully pulling the tablet back onto her knees. “Okay. But you have to tell me if it gets boring.”
“We will. But it’s not.”
Kal settled back beside her, close enough that his arm pressed warmly against hers. Tor lowered himself to sit cross-legged on her other side, moving with that fluid grace that made her jumpy.
She started the holo-vid again, the narrator’s voice filling the comfortable silence that settled between them. The display showed the massive arc ships in greater detail—their construction, the complex life support systems, the sleeping chambers where thousands of people had dreamed away the centuries.
As interested as she was in the lessons—she wanted to be a starship designer one day—she focused on their reactions instead. The way Kal leaned forward when something caught his interest and how Tor’s head would tilt slightly at new information.
Maybe they were real soldiers, warriors who’d seen real battle. But right now, they were just teens like her, eager to learn about something new. She smiled and relaxed as the vid continued.
It was nice to have friends here, even if they were aliens.