Forbidden World by Jeremy Michelson

Author:Jeremy Michelson [Michelson, Jeremy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-01-17T22:00:00+00:00

Forty-Nine

Zek

He hadn’t made up his mind whether or not to kill Captain Tejoh when they finally caught up with the idiot.

Zek kept a wary on on the battle display in his suit. The hum of the powered up plasma blasters on his arms sent annoying vibrations through the suit. He was awash in the stink of his own body and the oily and ozone tinged scent of the suit itself.

He should have been grateful he had maker armor. Unlike the dumb suits the security crew wore. They had to clamber into those suits like apes, unlike him. He just had to strip and touch the stunted, black triangle where his neck joined his body.

He’d been very careful to hide his armor unit from the Captain. Kawl Tejoh would have been highly jealous if he’d found out his first officer had a better class of armor than him.

Such were the perks of being an Intelligence Officer.

And, being here on this dust ridden, dead planet was one of the drawbacks of being an IO.

So much for cushy assignments.

The three armored soldiers in front of him panned their plasma rifles back and forth. Powerful spotlights attached to the rifles barely cut through the reddish, dusty murk. The wind howled and buffeted at them. The dust and sand rustled over his armor with a hiss that sent chills up his spine.

He could almost–almost–hear words in those gusts of wind.

But that was just his imagination getting the better of him.

The communicator in his helmet chimed. A display blinked at his peripheral vision, telling him a call from The Hojan’s Murder was incoming. He told his suit computer to put it through. A window popped up just below his main field of view. Tak’s weak, worried face filled the window.

“Report,” Tek said.

Tak rubbed a hand over his face. Another gesture of weakness.

If they ever returned back to port, there were going to be reports and recommendations made. The empire had certainly scraped the bottom of the barrel for the crew of The Hojan’s Murder.

“Sir,” Tak said, “I believe I’ve located an entrance to the underground transport system. There was a pattern of recently disturbed soil that–”

"Where is it?" Zek said. Sharply. He wasn't interested in the weakling's details. What he needed were results. So they could get off this strangely unsettling world.

Everything about this planet got his hackles up. The blowing wind. The reddish dust. The tall, silent towers–still standing and unblemished thousands of years after their owners and residents had perished.

Back in its primitive history, the Don had believed in spirits. That the life energy lingered after a body died.

Ghosts.

If he allowed himself to believe in ghosts, then this city, this world, would be filled with the tormented ghosts of all the murdered Dendon.

But, he was no primitive. He would not believe in spirits.

According to Don lore, Emperor HeJov himself had engineered the plan that finally put an end to a troublesome rival. The Dendon had constantly blocked the Don from expanding their influence in the galaxy.

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