The Prillon warrior sitting before me bled from multiple wounds, none fatal, each strategically placed to inflict maximum pain. Lieutenant Oberon Arcas of Prillon Prime was one stubborn fucking warrior.
I have to break him.
I’d tracked him down, taken his ship, and captured him for one reason: information. I needed to know where this traitor intended to go inside Hive controlled space. Who he had made arrangements with to help him get there. More important than either of those things, how he’d acquired the detailed map and technical schematics of a Hive stronghold that wasn’t on any of our star charts. Why it was printed, ink on paper, of all fucking things?
The Interstellar Coalition of Planets hadn’t used paper to store data in… how long? I wasn’t sure. A millennia?
Either he was working directly with the enemy, or he’d paid for them, bought them from someone with contactsinsidethe Hive. Someone behind enemy lines.
“Who gave you the plans?” He was going to tell me exactlywhere that Hive base was located, andhowhe knew the facility existed at all.
Information even I, leader of all Coalition’s intelligence operations, did not have….
“Fuck you, Helion. We’ve already had this conversation.”
“Who gave them to you? How much did you pay to acquire them?”
“Give me a ReCon team.”
“There is no one to rescue. Where is the Hive base?”
“I’ll tell you that after the prisoners have been freed.”
“The Hive do not take prisoners, they integrate us into their Hive mind and send us out to kill our own families, our own people. You know this, Arcas. Whatever prisoners were taken are already dead.” Apparently, some warriors had trouble listening, or accepting the truth. “I know you want to believe she’s still alive, but I assure you, she is gone from this life. I’m sorry, but you must accept the truth.”
“I don’t trust you, or your Hunters.”
“My best Hunter searched for over a month. She’s dead, Oberon.”
“Give me a ReCon team. When I’ve seen for myself, I’ll give you exact coordinates and you can blast the place out of existence. That’s what you want, isn’t it? To turn the Hive into ash and dust?”
I did want that. If I’d missed a threat of this magnitude, another hidden base, what else did I not know about? How many bases did the Hive had scattered throughout Coalition space? A Hive installation like this one could wipe out an entire star system in a matter of weeks. Millions, perhaps billions of civilian lives were at risk, and it wasmyjob to protect them.
Fuck this asshole and his refusal to cooperate. He thought he knew what I wanted. He had no fucking clue. I was a warrior who learned from his mistakes. A Prillon male who would do anything to protect his people, no matter how vile the task.Anything.
I nodded to Doctor Mersan where he stood next to our prisoner’s shoulder. A Prillon warrior, like me, he served the I.C. now. Like Mersan, I, too, trained as a doctor first. I had long since given up using my skills for anything other than hunting and killing as many Coalition enemies as possible. Threats from within or without, I hunted them down. My entire being focused on one task, one goal: ending this fucking war.
Mersan stepped close to Oberon and raised the RGR device he held to the prisoner’s chest. He activated the small wand. Normally used to heal, my team had made very deliberate, specific modifications to the programming of the standard ReGen wand.
I watched, impatient, as Oberon’s skin dissolved, the cells separating from the traitor’s muscles laying beneath. The resulting bloody ooze slid down over his abdomen like melted wax, leaving a raw wound the size of my palm.
I preferred not to take things this far, but we’d been interrogating the warrior for weeks. Sleep deprivation. Beatings. Nothing to eat and just enough water to keep him alive. We injected him with medications specifically designed to break his mind. Loosen his tongue. Still, he gave us nothing. Not one fucking bit of useful information.
I supposed his fortitude could be attributed to the Arcas bloodline. This traitor’s cousin—Thomar—had not only survived Hive integration but broken free of Hive mind control.On his own.Something previously believed impossible. No one resisted the Hive, other than Atlan warlords. Most Atlans died before the Hive could gain control of the massive fighter that dwelled within their males.
Thank the gods. Atlan beasts were feared on the battlefieldwithoutthe added strength and speed Hive implanted technology would give them.
My prisoner was no Atlan. He was a Prillon warrior, through and through. The Arcas bloodline had been restored to its rightful place on our home planet. His family was one of the oldest in our records. Noble. Fierce. Before the system of Prime rule, this traitor’s ancestors had been kings.
I stood quietly, waiting for Oberon to respond to the loss of his flesh. It would heal quickly. But this fucker needed to suffer for a few minutes.Somehow, this Prillon had access to information I did not. Vital information about our enemies. Information I would kill to acquire. If Oberon did not break soon, there were other, more aggressive measures to be taken.
Just two months ago, Oberon had been a loyal warrior, a vital part of the Coalition Fleet. According to his military record, he was an excellent pilot and calm under fire. His battle statistics were impressive. He’d received multiple commendations. If I’d seen his record before, I would have considered recruiting him to serve in the I.C. He’d been the perfect soldier.
What fucking changed?
Sentiment. Emotion overruling reason. Love made him weak.
I glanced at Mersan, who nodded in response to my unspoken question. The wound had been open long enough. We didn’t want our prisoner to go into shock. Nor did we want to give him enough time to adapt to the pain. His agony needed to be fresh. I gave a nearly imperceptible dip of my chin. The doctor reversed the energy field of the RGR—turning it back to its original purpose—healing wounds, not causing them.
