TrainedtoDestroy
Table of Contents
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Author’s note
About the Author
A Guardsman wakes a deadly weapon of mythic proportions, Rathi, and she must choose sides with only his earnest gaze to go on.
Hidden does his work in secret and silence. Searching for the deadly weapon known as the Destroyer of Ichadra, he insinuates himself into an archaeological team looking for the ancient power. The woman he finds is young, strong and can rip him apart at the molecular level with the wave of her hand.
Rathi can remember over sixteen hundred years, but she has slept for the last thousand. The handsome male who wakes her entreats her to do what is right and that alone wins her agreement. When she sees that her world is dead, she must choose to align herself with a current power, and nothing will convince her like a kind word and an offer to help discover what happened to those who came before.
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Trained to Destroy
Copyright © 2013 Viola Grace
ISBN: 978-1-77111-494-3
Cover art by Martine Jardin
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
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Trained to Destroy
Tales of the Citadel 20
By
Viola Grace
Chapter One
The assessment council of the Citadel gathered in conference with Relay of the Sector Guard.
Arcalithic, Master of the Citadel Niffu, addressed the union. “We have been notified that the Raiders have been digging on Ichadra.”
Relay asked, “The same Ichadra known in myth and legend as home of the Destroyer?”
Arcalithic nodded. “We have had several of our archivists looking into the weapon, and it seems that it has shared characteristics with Star Breaker.”
Relay asked, “How so?”
“They were both organic weapons brought out to perform one task alone. The last time the Destroyer was seen was nine hundred fifty-seven years ago.”
“What happened?”
“The Ichadra were wiped out by disease and the Destroyer faded into history. The Raiders have been sifting through history and locating living weapons. We really need to get the same sort of program enacted. We can’t let them get the upper hand.”
Relay smiled on the screen. “That is what this meeting is for, ladies and gentlemen. We are looking for tidbits of information just like this.”
Arcalithic cocked his head. “So, what is your plan?”
Relay smiled. “The Sector Guard is on its way. They will assess the validity of the danger and put a plan into action to obtain the Destroyer, whatever it is.”
“Make sure that they use due care.”
The coordinator of enhanced beings across three sectors smiled. “We always do.”
* * * *
Jarrod dug with the others, seeking the Destroyer of Ichadra. They had only the most vague of location descriptions, but they did seem to be in the correct area.
Jarrod had been a student of the Citadel for years before joining the Sector Guard. As Hidden, he was not on any public rosters, he went in undercover and got the job done.
A cry rang out from the far end of the site, and the diggers all moved to excavate the find. Jarrod kept his mind on his task and his hands busy until the silvery metal and onyx stone was exposed to all of them. The Seeker, running the dig, moved them all back as he tried to read the code to the lock.
Jarrod watched with the others as the Seeker entered code after code, moving his fingers over the glyphs around the opening.
Jarrod and the others sat around, watching as the Seeker worked into the night. For Jarrod, the means of entry was simple, and yet, he could not move. Not yet.
It was near dawn when the Seeker keeled over and had to be taken to his tent to rest. Only two men remained near the doorway, and they were both listing over with fatigue. It was time to see if he could take possession of the Destroyer before the Raiders captured one of the greatest weapons in history.
He hid himself and walked to the door in the ground, standing centrally. He knocked with his heel and the door disappeared beneath him.
Jarrod dropped fifteen feet before sliding to a halt. He looked up and the door solidified once again. If they could wake the Seeker, they would figure it out in a few moments, but with the drug he had slipped into the Seeker’s meal, he should have a few hours.
The halls didn’t light as he entered, so he flicked his secondary lids over his eyes to improve his night vision. The tiny bit of light from the end of the passageway was enough to lead him directly to his quarry.
He had no idea what he was seeking. The people of Ichadra were lost to history. No images of them remained. They had been a race who didn’t like strangers. Their Destroyer was designed to keep all invaders at bay. It had been so successful that once the Destroyer had been engaged, no one had seen an Ichadra for six centuries. That had been before the quarantine went up.
He rounded the corner and entered the lightly lit area. Tables and computers covered in thin plexi sheets sparsely occupied it. A taller structure stood against the wall, a sheet draped over it as well. Jarrod shook his head, as it seemed that the Destroyer was a creature of myth and legend, not fact.
He pulled the plexi sheets off one by one, removing the tall covering last.
To say he was shocked by the woman sleeping in full armour and a standing position was to minimize his feelings at the moment. He was stunned to the toes of his boots.
Dark hair was braided away from her face, fine tattoos in the palest gold across her cheeks and dark lining around her eyes that was more pigment than makeup. Her body was clothed in black armour etched with the same gold colouration as her face.
Jarrod reached out to touch her skin, and to his amazement, it was warm. There was a small bell near her head, and he took the hint. He lifted the small hammer and struck the bell.
Her eyes opened wide, and she looked at him in shock but then continued past him. “Who woke me?”
Jarrod reverted to being seen, and he bowed low. “My name is Jarrod, Destroyer. There are those above who wish to capture you to use for their own gain. I am here to tell you that working for the Raiders would cost countless lives.”
Her gold eyes blinked slowly. “You are not one of my people.”
He could literally feel power swirling in the room. “Your people have been dead for nine hundred and fifty-seven years. They were destroyed by a pestilence and none survived.”
She stepped from her platform and the power simmered but remained in the vicinity. All of the hair on Jarrod’s body stood on end.
“Why did you come for me?”
“Because I wanted you free and alert before they came for you. It should be your choice whether you are used or not. I merely came to wake you before they did and offer you a position in the Sector Guard if you want it.”
She took a few steps, the chainmail dags covering her abdomen swinging. “You have come to offer me employment?”
“I have. In the Guard, your free time is your own, and your only duty is to those who are desperate for your help. You will have companionship of others with similar powers, and you are free to come and go as you please.” He inclined his head.
The Destroyer tilted her head as if she heard something in the distance. “You are offering me freedom?”
“I am offering you nothing but the opportunity to choose. You served your people well, but they are gone. You can return to your sleep, but now that your tomb has been unearthed, others will come and try to take by force what you can offer freely.”
She turned and faced him. “They are coming. Are you honest in what you offer? I may have my freedom?”
Jarrod nodded and turned to face the doorway.
The Destroyer wrapped her arms around him from behind and whispered. “I really hope you are telling the truth. Death at my hands would not be pleasant.”
She moved one hand and held it out in front of him, palm up. The ceiling turned to dust, and they lifted off the ground.
Jarrod swallowed as she levitated them out of the hole, and he pointed to the area where he had a small shuttle secreted.
Shouts from the Raider camp began as they were noticed, and Jarrod had to admit that being carried by a woman a head and a half shorter than he was was slightly unnerving.
The Destroyer landed them next to the shuttle, and he removed the camouflage draped over his vehicle quickly, opening the door to allow her to settle in.
They were on their way off her world in a few minutes, and he noted the tear that tracked down her cheek.
He knew she was seeing the ruins of her civilization for the first time, and his heart went out to her. He didn’t waste his breath on platitudes, there would be time for her to grieve later. For now, he had to get them out alive. Though, if she were over sixteen hundred years old, life may not be the problem for her that it was for the rest of the universe.
Chapter Two
Wacorathi Quen watched the ships moving into attack position. She reached out and dropped the ships out of the sky, grounding them on her beloved world. Her companion asked her, “Are you doing that?”
She looked at his serious features and his lovely icy green eyes. “Of course. I am trying to minimize the death, but it is difficult at these heights and speeds.”
He paused. “That is thoughtful of you.”
She shrugged.
“I am amazed that you came out of your sleep so easily. I thought that stasis would have affected you.”
“Oh, I wasn’t in stasis. I was simply dormant.”
“You don’t age?”
“Not that I have noticed. I have molecular control over anything within my field of vision. Well, not control precisely, I can engage in disintegration of the molecular bonds in just about anything.” She propped her chin on her fist and watched the last of her world disappear beneath her. She wiped another tear off her cheek.
“That is handy.”
“Not particularly. How do you enjoy disappearing?”
He shrugged. “It is a very useful skill at times and a pain in the ass at others.”
His frankness startled her into a small laugh. “Excellent description.”
She settled into silence as they left her home, and she decided that she would find out if the men on the ground were any worse than the man she was sitting next to.
He shivered next to her, and she asked, “What was that?”
“I hid us from view. I can hold it for a few minutes and, hopefully, that is enough time to pass the ships.”
She wanted to ask what ships, but the hulking warships from a dozen different species were cruising around like enormous predators. The ships bore the marks of battles and a few had been renamed. It was bad luck to rename a ship. To do it, you had to kill every member of the previous crew.
Her companion’s words were beginning to hold weight. A great deal of time had indeed passed, and these ships were no casual archaeological group. They wanted the Destroyer, and she wasn’t going to play with them.
She was free of her home and her prison, nothing and no one was going to put her back in the position of being summoned only when needed and sleeping the rest of her life away.
They streaked silently through space toward a place called Balen Base. Wacorathi was flicking through the last thousand years of Alliance history, choosing planets at random and seeing how politics and treaties had interlocked them. It made for interesting reading, and once they had linked with an Alliance warship to transport them to Balen, she had to admit that the treaties seemed to have done the participants a lot of good.
Wacorathi thought back to the conservative governments that she had served. A few strategic treaties would have given them access to help when the plague struck. As it was, having destroyed every ship and crew that had ever tried to land on Ichadra, there was no one to call for help when trouble loomed. Stupid.
She asked her companion, “What is your name?”
“Hidden.”
She was disappointed that it wasn’t his given name.
“We have to withhold our names until we are safe at a base.”
The ship shuddered as they were transported from location to location. “What was that?”
“That was a jump. Two points in space can be connected for an instant, and the move between them is facilitated by a special engine designed to utilize that connection.” He grinned. “We will be making two more of them.”
She frowned. “Why not make a direct jump from place to place?”
“If care is not taken, the jump can rupture the space near an inhabited world. We jump where it won’t do damage and then fly a few hours to get us where we are going.”
She absorbed the information and looked up jumps on the data pad he had given her. She had a lot to catch up on, and she wanted to make choices with knowledge and not desperation. Guessing had never been a favourite occupation of hers.
There were two more jumps, and before she knew it, Hidden was requesting clearance to land on Balen Base.
The world beneath them was bright and new. Everything around had the energy of new life.
“How old is this world?”
He shrugged, “Hundreds of millions of years. Balen recently renovated his surface in celebration that his child was able to be his Avatar.”
“What?”
He chuckled and nodded to the data pad. “Look up planetary and stellar avatars.”
She did, and after she read the pages, she looked up. “You have to be kidding.”
“No. Not kidding. Avatars carry a portion of the mind of the world inside them. It allows the world to choose for itself what will and will not be done to it. The Avatar also allows them to engage in self-defence.”
She nodded. “Out of all the bases, why choose Balen?”
He winced. “It is one of the only bases where your talent will not result in massive death if you slip and dissolve a wall. Station 13 is an orbital station, Udell is on a gas world, Teklan is aimed at investigation and Morganti at environmental disasters. Balen is still getting its full complement, so it will be easier for you to find a place here.”
“What is that building with the tower sticking out?”
“The Citadel. It is a teaching academy and a boarding school for those with talents outside the norm.” He chuckled as he set the shuttle down. “They have recently introduced a new species to Balen. If you see anything fluffy and knee high, they are called Ya
luthu or Fixits. They offer healing for the price of a cuddle.”
“They are pets?”
He shook his head and unclasped his harness. “Not in the strictest sense. They are the infantile phase of their species and remain in it for a decade. Their adult form is far less fluffy, but they are intelligent and choose their companions carefully.”
She unbuckled and held tight to her data pad. It was her link to learning the modern world, and she didn’t want to lose it.
A man with dark skin and pale hair came out to greet them. Hidden did the introductions. “Olaris, this is Destroyer of Ichadra. Destroyer, this is Olaris, ex-Avatar of Saru the star in the sky above us.”
She inclined her head. “Thank you for the introduction, Hidden. I am happy to be here.”
Olaris extended his arm. “May I show you your quarters and then get you something to eat?”
She nodded. “That would be pleasant. I don’t remember the last time that I had a good meal.”
He inclined his head. “I too have lived beyond what my species expects. I will help you catch up to the present day.”
“Thank you. Where is Hidden going?”
He walked into the base and disappeared from view.
“Relay wishes him to break down the situation on Ichadra. He is engaged in the standard debriefing that follows every mission.”
He walked with her into the base. “I see. Will I be interviewed?”
“Of course. After you have rested and eaten.”
“I believe I would prefer the food first. I have slept quiet enough.”
Olaris smiled and there was knowledge in his eyes. “I understand completely. A meal it shall be.”
Cheerfully, he escorted her into the dining area where the staff was manning a fairly extensive buffet. The smells assaulted her, and she wished that she had recipes from her old world.