Page 7 of Sy (Alien Berserkers of Izaea #2)

7

“ W atch your step here.” Ashley steadied Lila as they navigated around a particularly deep tire rut on their way across the work site the next morning. Her daughter barely seemed to notice, her attention focused elsewhere as her head swiveled back and forth, scanning faces in the growing crowd of morning workers.

She’d picked at her dinner last night, disappointment on her face when neither Kal nor Tor had shown up at the mess hall, and Ashley knew she’d tossed and turned all night. Great, a grumpy Lila was never fun to deal with.

A Hell-V rumbled past, kicking up dust that caught the morning light. She pulled out her tablet, pretending to review the day’s schedule while watching Lila from under her lashes. The readouts showed concerning spikes in the resonance patterns from the deep core samples. She’d need to deal with that soon.

“Mom?” Lila’s voice lifted with sudden energy. “Can I go say hi to Kal and Tor? They’re over by the K-wave sensor grid.”

Ashley looked up. The two Izaean teens stood over the other side of the site, Kal already raising a hand in greeting. Tor remained slightly behind his friend, his usual reserved stance in place, though his attention was fixed on Lila. The change in her daughter was immediate, her entire demeanor shifting from forced casualness to barely contained excitement.

“Stay where I can see you,” she said, watching as Kal moved toward them with fluid grace. Unlike many of the Izaean, he seemed completely at ease interacting with humans, his body language open and friendly.

“Good morning, Ms. Jackson,” Kal said, his voice seeming too deep for a sixteen-year-old. “Lila, we were hoping you’d be here early.”

“Early bird catches the worm,” she said with a smile, watching the two boys shift from foot to foot. She knew that body language. They wanted something. “Can we help you boys?” she asked with a smile.

“If it’s okay with you, Ms. Jackson, we’d like to show Lila more about our lives,” Kal said, his dark eyes earnest. “Since she shared her lessons with us yesterday.”

Ashley studied his open expression and then glanced at Tor behind him. Her fingers tightened on her tablet as the resonance warning flashed again. She’d deal with that shortly. “Where exactly? Is it within the safety cordon?”

Tor stepped forward. The voice that emerged was nothing like she’d expected—deep and rough, like gravel being crushed underfoot. “We will not cross the cordon. We will both ensure Lila’s safety.”

She hid her surprise. She’d assumed his silence was shyness or typical teenage reticence. Now, hearing that damaged voice, she realized how many assumptions she’d made about both of these young warriors.

Lila drew herself up to her full height, leaving her barely reaching the middle of Kal’s chest. The morning sun caught her red hair, making it glint and blaze against the dull grays and browns of the construction site. “I can look after myself. I’ve taken all my hostile terrain certifications to qualify for this trip.”

Ashley bit back a smile. Those certifications had involved carefully controlled simulations in climate-regulated chambers—nothing like the raw, unpredictable reality of Parac’Norr. Her tablet chimed again, and she glanced down. Shit, the K-wave readings were showing dangerous fluctuations in sectors four through six, but Thompson had assured her the secondary containment fields would hold. She needed to check those readings personally, but Lila’s determined expression pulled at her.

“I scored in the top percentile for environmental awareness,” Lila continued, ticking points off on her fingers. “And I completed advanced first aid, including xenobiological considerations. Plus, I’m already ahead on my coursework.”

“Go ahead,” Ashley said, surprising herself with how steady her voice sounded. “But stay within sight of the main array. The resonance fields are acting up this morning.”

Lila’s face lit up as she fell into step between Kal and Tor, their boots raising small puffs of dust. Ashley watched them head toward the eastern section, her attention split between her daughter and the increasingly urgent warnings on her tablet.

“Kids, right?” Michelle Trevor’s voice cut through the morning clamor. The senior engineer’s coveralls already showed grease smudges despite the early hour. “One minute they’re clinging to your leg, and the next they’re making friends with alien warriors.”

She laughed, grateful for the distraction. “At least yours only brought home stray cats. I’m dealing with seven-foot-tall teenagers with combat training. But right now, I’m more worried about these readings. Look at this pattern.”

They walked toward the main engineering hub off to one side of the site where holographic displays showed the day’s work plans floating in crisp detail. Michelle pulled up the latest sensor readings, her fingers dancing over the controls.

“The crystalline matrix is destabilizing,” Michelle said, zooming in on a three-dimensional diagram of the site. “We’re getting harmonic feedback at levels way outside normal parameters. The drill bits aren’t just wearing down. They’re molecularly degrading.”

“The secondary containment fields should be compensating for that.” Ashley studied the pulsing red zones on the display. “Unless…”

“Unless someone mis-calibrated them.” Michelle’s voice was flat, but her eyes cut sideways as Thompson clattered his way up the metal steps to the platform.

“The secondary containment feeds need recalibrating,” Ashley told him, keeping her voice level and professional, even though all she wanted to do was rip the guy’s head off. He had one job… keep those fields in line.

He sneered dismissively as he shouldered between them. “But that’s impossible since I personally?—”

“Checked them?” she cut him off, pointing to the readouts. “Then explain why we’re seeing phase variance in all six backup generators. Those fields are barely containing the resonance bleed.”

Thompson’s face reddened. “Now listen here?—”

“No, you listen.” She stepped forward, her voice carrying enough authority to draw attention from nearby crew members. “Your incompetence isn’t just burning through equipment anymore. If those fields go down, we’ll have quantum resonance waves tearing through the entire site. Including where my daughter is standing.”

Michelle’s hands flew to her console, her fingers flying across it. “Containment at sixty percent and dropping. We need to shut down the primary arrays now.”

“Like hell,” Thompson snarled. “Do you know how long it’ll take to power back up? We’ll lose days of work!”

“Better than losing lives.” Ashley slammed her hand down on the emergency shutdown. Alarms blared across the site as equipment powered down in a cascading wave. She keyed her comm. “All personnel, clear the eastern quadrant immediately. Repeat: clear the eastern quadrant.”

Her eyes found Lila’s distant figure, already being hurried toward the safe zone by her towering escorts. She allowed herself one moment of relief before turning back to Thompson.

“You’re relieved of duty pending a full investigation. If I find out you falsified those damn safety reports…” She left the threat hanging as she turned to Michelle. “Get me a complete diagnostic on the containment field generators. I want to know exactly what failed and why.”

“On it,” Michelle said with a curt nod, already starting the diagnostics as Thompson snarled and stormed off. “Ashley? Good call. Those fields were about thirty seconds from total collapse.”

Ashley nodded, turning to watch as workers evacuated the danger zone with practiced efficiency. The site hummed with a different kind of energy now—controlled urgency rather than panic. She wasn’t worried about this team. They were well-trained. They knew their jobs.

“Once we’ve confirmed the shutdown, get me a timeline for repairs.” She pulled up the site plans, already plotting contingencies. “And someone find me those drill bit fragments. I want to know exactly what we’re dealing with down there.”

Sy leaned against the rough stone wall of the meeting chamber, his arms crossed over his chest. The ancient granite blocks, hewn from Parac’Norr’s mountains centuries ago, contrasted sharply with the modern holo-projectors and comm units retrofitted into crude holes and gaps. Cables snaked across the ceiling in tangled bundles, their coverings worn from age and exposure.

His claws itched beneath his skin, and he fought the urge to extend them as Kraath’s second-in-command, Vraal, shot him another suspicious glance. The garrison commander himself sat at the head of the long, battered, metal table, his expression unreadable as he studied the latest security reports.

“The human construction teams are proceeding according to the schedule they gave us,” Kraath said, his deep voice echoing off the rough-hewn stone walls. “But we’ve had increased feral activity along the perimeter.”

Sy kept his expression neutral as half the room turned to look at him and shrugged.

“They’re curious about the humans,” he said, his voice rougher than it had been before his transformation. “Nothing more.”

Vraal snorted. “Even if they’re curious enough to tear them apart?”

The beast inside Sy snarled, and he pushed away from the wall. “If a feral wanted to tear anyone apart, you’d be the first to know.”

“Enough,” Kraath growled, but Vraal was already half-rising from his seat.

“We shouldn’t even allow him in these meetings,” Vraal said, glaring at Sy. “He’s compromised. They all are. The fact that he hasn’t been sent into the wilds like the ot?—”

“I’m still more than capable of doing my job,” Sy cut in, feeling the familiar burn of Rage beneath his skin as the black armoring across his chest rippled in response.

“Your job?” Vraal’s laugh was bitter. “Your job is to protect the humans, not turn into one of the monsters we’re supposed to be guarding them from.”

Sy’s claws punched to full length. “You want to find out how much of a monster I am?”

“ Enough! ” a deep bellow filled the chamber as the holo-projector in the center of the table flickered to life, revealing Raalt, leader of the Izaean, with his son Isan standing slightly behind him. Raalt’s expression was thunderous as his piercing gaze swept across the room. “This petty infighting stops now . We face enough challenges without turning on our own.”

Sy forced his claws to retract, each breath measured as he stepped back against the wall. He felt his Rage rise, drawn by the presence of power, and few were more powerful than Raalt and his son.

Vraal slowly sank back into his chair, though the hatred in his eyes hadn’t diminished. The acrid scent of his fear-tinged sweat filled the chamber, making Sy’s nose twitch.

“Now,” Raalt’s holographic form leaned forward, his white hair catching the blue light of the projection. “Report.”

Kraath cleared his throat. “Construction proceeds as planned. We’ve increased patrols along the western ridge after detecting increased feral activity. So far, most have maintained their distance. Those that haven’t have behaved themselves.”

“The humans?” Isan asked.

“Adapting well,” Sy answered before anyone else could speak. “Their lead engineer is competent. Professional.” He paused, considering his next words carefully. “She brought her daughter.”

Raalt’s eyebrow winged up. “A child? Here?”

“The girl is well-protected,” Kraath interjected. “We’ve assigned our youngest warriors to watch over her. It gives them purpose, keeps them focused.”

Isan nodded approvingly. “Sometimes the best way to protect is to give others something to protect.”

“How long will you be gone?” Kraath asked Raalt. Sy didn’t blame him. Since the loss of the southern fortress, they only had the northern garrison and smaller sub-garrisons--- certainly nothing large enough to hold the entire Izaean forces. Hence the need to bring in human specialists. The Izaean were warriors, not builders.

“As long as necessary.” Raalt’s voice carried an edge of frustration as he leaned back in his chair. “The empire grows increasingly… concerned about matters that don’t concern them. Particularly certain factions within the Purist movement. The last thing we need is for them to discover the existence of the ferals.”

His gaze swept over the room to Sy. The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on him. Here was their leader, discussing the containment of information about ferals while being one himself.

“They don’t need to know what happens here,” Raalt continued, his pale hair catching the blue light of the hologram. “They’re already creating enough problems over our alliance with humanity.”

“Younglings and children who display the mutation have become their latest target,” Isan added, his healer’s voice carrying a note of controlled anger. “They speak of racial purity as if we have any choice in the matter.”

A bitter laugh escaped Sy before he could stop it. “Racial purity?” He shook his head. “Did they forget we have no viable females thanks to the plague?”

Raalt’s holographic gaze fixed on him. “Exactly. Logic has never been the strong suit of fanatics.”

“They would rather see our species die out than adapt,” Kraath said, his fingers drumming against the table. “This is unacceptable.”

“I’m meeting with the emperor later,” Raalt said. “He may not always see eye to eye with me, but he understands the necessity of our choices. However, the Purists’ influence in his court grows stronger by the day.”

Sy noticed how Isan’s jaw tightened at the mention of his uncle, the emperor. There was history there, but it wasn’t his place to mention it. Everyone knew the story… how Raalt had been Daaynal’s closest friend and mated to the emperor’s sister, only to be cast aside when he’d shown the signs of Blood Rage.

What no one had realized until years later was that Isan had already been conceived. Technically the oldest male after Daaynal in the K’Saan line, he’d not only refused the title of prince but also his place in the line of succession.

They all still called him prince. He was their prince. The first Izaean prince.

“And if they discovered the truth about the ferals?” Vraal demanded.

Raalt’s expression darkened further. “They would demand our immediate containment or elimination. They already view our berserker tendencies as a dangerous mutation. They would never allow us to live if they knew about the full extent of our mutations. Need I remind you that several Purist-aligned clans control the automated weapons platforms installed around problematic planets, like those of the Vorr…”

“We continue as we always have,” Isan replied, taking over for his father. “Contain those who cannot control their Rage. And make sure to protect the humans at all costs. We can’t afford another incident, not with the empire’s attention already on us.”

“Understood.” Kraath nodded, his expression pinched. “We’ll maintain current protocols and keep you informed of any changes.”

Isan cleared his throat. “Moving on. Dr. Godwin has completed her full analysis of the remains. The attacking force at the southern fortress were krynassis, but altered. Changed.”

“Changed how?” Kraath’s deep voice cut through Sy’s thoughts.

“They have an unknown genetic element,” Isan replied, a frown on his face as he rubbed absently at one of the scars on his chest. “Something we’ve never seen before, and it doesn’t match anything in either our database or that of the humans. Dr. Godwin believes we were right, and that it could be Tanel in origin.”

The room temperature dropped. Sy folded his arms again. He’d grown up on tales of the Tanel, as far back as the nursery. Don’t slack in your training, or the Tanel will take you. Excel in combat, or the Tanel will find you. Ancient warriors used as stories to scare younglings into behaving. But then he’d tested positive for the Blood Rage at sixteen, watched his cousin Tor test positive at just two years old, and realized there were worse things than childhood monsters.

“But we can’t be certain without a sample of Tanel DNA to compare it to,” Isan continued.

“That’s not entirely accurate.”

Every head in the room turned toward Kraath.

“The Vorrtan,” Kraath said, looking around the room. “They were created using Latharian and Tanel DNA.”

Sy grunted softly. That was how the stories went.

“That’s just a myth.” Vraal’s expression creased skeptically. “And besides, how are we going to get Vorrtan DNA? They died out centuries ago. The only remnants are the Vorr, and they’ve been watched for generations to ensure no aberrations.”

Sy raised an eyebrow. “You haven’t been keeping up with the newsfeeds. Have you? Seems, like us, the Vorr have their secrets. There’s a full Vorrtan ambassador to the humans now.”

“Two,” Isan broke in. “Cade Vorr was the first, but a warlady recently arrived on earth.”

The room was startled into silence, all eyes on Isan.

“There is a living female Vorrtan?” Kraath asked sharply.

Sy watched the garrison commander carefully. Something was off about his reaction that made the symbiont stir uneasily in the back of his mind.

Isan inclined his head. “More than one. Apparently there are a few Vorrtan planets out there no one knew about. Somehow, the Vorrtan found ways to conceal themselves from the empire.”

“Well… draanth ,” Sy murmured. Whole planets of ancient super-warriors… That almost put their own secret to shame.

Zeke cleared his throat. “Something else doesn’t make sense. The krynassis DNA… how was it used? Their reproduction requires a queen to lay eggs, or at minimum, a queen’s halo.”

Isan frowned. “That’s one of many questions we don’t have answers for yet. Dr. Godwin is continuing her analysis, but without more samples?—”

“So we have nothing concrete,” Vraal cut him off, his tone bitter. “Just more questions and ancient legends that may or may not be true.”

Sy caught Kraath’s minute flinch at those words but only because he was looking directly at him rather than at Isan. And the expression was quick—there one moment and gone the next. He filed the knowledge away to think about later. Kraath knew or suspected something that he wasn’t sharing.

The question was what and, more importantly, why.

“What security protocols are in place for the humans?” Raalt asked.

“The humans’ communications are being monitored closely,” Zeke reported, his yellow eyes steady. “Everything goes through our systems first and then through the relay stations. Nothing concerning has come through so far.”

“Good,” Raalt’s hologram flickered. “Keep it that way. We can’t afford any… complications.”

“The construction crews seem focused on their work,” Sy added. “The project manager is keeping them in line.”

Raalt nodded. “Excellent. Continue as you have been. Keep me informed of any changes.”

The holo-link flickered out, leaving the room in relative darkness until the overhead lights compensated. Chairs scraped against the floor as warriors rose to leave. Sy watched as they filed out. Vraal shot him one last venomous look before disappearing through the doorway. Kraath was the last to rise, gathering his datapads with deliberate slowness. Sy’s Rage stirred uneasily as the garrison commander passed him without a word.

When the room was empty, Sy finally pushed away from the wall. His boots made no sound on the stone floor as he moved toward the door. The corridor beyond was dimly lit, the ancient lighting casting everything in a dull amber glow.

He was halfway through the doorway when he saw Zeke leaning against the wall with his hands shoved in his pockets.

“Something I can do for you, Zeke?”

Zeke’s usual calm manner was gone, replaced by an unusual tension in his shoulders. The yellow-eyed warrior glanced up and down the corridor before speaking in a low voice.

“Someone snuck out of the garrison last night,” Zeke said in a low voice, one pitched not to carry. “ Without authorization.”

Sy shrugged. “So? If they want to be stupid and go out there when we’ve told them how dangerous it can be without one of us, why should we care?”

It was probably that idiot, Thompson. And after the tense meeting, one human being an idiot was a minor concern. His Rage had settled back into its usual quiet hum at the base of his skull, no longer setting off warning signals. It really only seemed to do that when Kraath was around. What he hadn’t figured out was if the male was dangerous or if the Rage just didn’t like him.

“No, you don’t get it.” Zeke pushed away from the wall, frustration twisting his expression. “I can only monitor communications that originate from the garrison. If they’re out there and using a different system…”

Sy’s blood ran cold as he finished Zeke’s sentence, “Then we have a security leak on our hands.”