14
They finally reached the top of the hill. Probably had to do with Veta almost running, because she wanted to get away from the scene below.
She wanted to leave the blade behind.
But Wrathin was right. If she did, then the Emperor would know she was on to his present. And if she were on to the present, then he would accelerate whatever plan he had in mind. While the transmitter was dormant—likely due to the eclipse—it was still recording everything. And it would likely transmit files as soon as the signal was available.
Which, according to Wrathin, would be in about three days.
She just wanted to get off this planet, get to the princesses, and find out what was going on. Were they in as much danger as she had been? She hoped not.
She started to work her way down toward the ramshackle buildings below.
“Wait.” Wrathin grabbed her arm and pulled her back.
Her gut reaction was to jerk away—her pride didn’t like being handled by anyone. However, this was Wrathin. Tension and apprehension sizzled in him—it poured out of his pores.
She trusted him.
Something wasn’t right.She looked at the village. Like really looked at it. He had talked like it would have been a nice, tidy, little settlement.
This, instead, looked like a make-shift site after a battle. Barely standing buildings. Temporary structures were thrown together at the last second. Nothing that showed the signs of a planned, secure settlement.
Surely this wasn’t what he was looking for.
“What do you see?” she whispered.
“Death.”
Veta pulled out a small set of binoculars from her suit pocket and took in the scene. The nocs enhanced details, and she could see just how bad it really was.
Lines were broken and irregular. Shadows that shouldn’t be in certain places were. When she studied what was before her, she saw the destruction, rather than the ill-repair she’d thought it was initially.
They had been attacked.
Plain and simple.
The sick feeling she’d gotten before about her blade had just quadrupled.
“Was there a battle here, before?” she asked. Hoped was more like it.
Because if it wasn’t old damage, then it was new.
One of the Rhimodian’s strong fortifications in the war was their defensive shielding around their planets, and it created a lot of the stalemate. Terrans couldn’t break it.
Some said because the Rhimodians reprogrammed it constantly. Others thought the cyborg tech adapted, and every time the Terrans attacked it, it learned how to defend itself, so in essence, the Terrans were making it stronger.
No one really knew.
But had some Terrans managed to get through and attack the surface of a Rhimodian world? Some secret, covert mission?
Her stomach roiled because she knew the answer.
“No,” Wrathin said, confirming her suspicions.
A breeze blew, slapping at her from the valley below.
It brought a scent that she knew very well.
