Annals of the Keepers: War 267 (Book 1 in the Gashnee Saga) by Christiaan Hile, Benjamin Halkett
Authors: Christiaan Hile, Benjamin Halkett
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wasn’t too late already.
“Thank you for your understanding,” he said.
Kason turned and entered the ready room without hesitation. The door closed behind him and locked with a clank .
Data Cell 6
The light in the room shined down upon the Kryth commando. Lintorth raised his hand to block the unyielding intruder as he strained to open his eyes.
The room was blurred for a moment.
Lintorth looked around to get a sense of where he was. He knew he wasn’t captured by the unknown enemy, since neither strap nor cell awaited him.
He spied some coveralls on a chair near the wall, the only real furniture in the room besides the table he was on.
He brought confirmation of what he had already surmised: he was on a cargo ship. The smell and stains that coated the walls were a clear sign to the origins of the vessel. They were most un-official cargo runners, the kind of low-life Kryth Lintorth loathed and exploited within his own intelligence apparatus for the Domain.
A shard of pain shot through Lintorth’s body as he attempted to rise from his prone position. He felt the crude metal brace bite into his left leg.
Lintorth was in no mood to deal with this discomfort or some malpractice medical device the likes of which he would not even place on an injured Aythra .
With one rapid movement, he lifted himself up and off the table and found the clothes on the near chair.
Lintorth clenched his teeth as he stared over the room. “Where is my armor? Where is my cape?”
His mind pictured the degenerates aboard this tub. He could only imagine what they did with the cape as it was no doubt lying around some filthy bunk, used as drapes or as a nice rug somewhere aboard the ship.
Lintorth’s mind was now focused.
His anger obscured the ache in his body as the notion of the future existence of the Domain and the Kryth Mahr race was at hand. He must reach the communication room onboard and send a warning to his intel network regarding the new unknown invaders in the Sol System.
Lintorth exited the room and limped down the hall at the fastest pace allowed by the metal contraption secured to his leg.
He reached up with a hand and pulled off the haphazard bandages placed on his face by who knows-what-unpracticed scum.
Ahead, he spotted two of the crew from this ship; they looked to be guarding the door to the bridge of the vessel.
“Funny,” he said to himself, wondering what they were guarding the bridge entrance of a run-down cargo ship for. Smirking, he knew full well whom they were safeguarding it from.
The two Kryth stepped forward from their positions at the door to intercept the unknown ‘striped face’ approaching.
“Stop right there,” the tall, skinnier one said with some forced bravado.
Lintorth looked over both. “I must be allowed to speak to the captain of this ship. It’s of vital Domain importance that I do.”
He already knew their answer, but had to wait until their response fell from their grimy mouths.
The short stubby guard puffed up at what his skinny partner would say next, as he too was feeling his comrade’s swagger.
The scrawny sentry responded, “Captain does not have time for you. Now go back to your room until you are called.”
“Yeah, go back to your room before you fall down,” the short one snickered.
Lintorth, though wounded, closed the final few feet of the gap from the two with lightning speed, driving his hand against the tall Kryth’s throat and into the door behind.
With his other hand, Lintorth had already un-sheathed the crewman’s knife, thrusting it against the throat of the other so-called bridge guard.
“Like I said, I would like to speak to the captain of this ship. Do I hear any, and I will repeat this only once, do I hear any objections from either of you two?” His eyes blazed with death as he contemplated the sentries’ fate with the question.
The guards began to shake their heads in immediate acknowledgment.
Lintorth heaved the throat-gripped Kryth
“Thank you for your understanding,” he said.
Kason turned and entered the ready room without hesitation. The door closed behind him and locked with a clank .
Data Cell 6
The light in the room shined down upon the Kryth commando. Lintorth raised his hand to block the unyielding intruder as he strained to open his eyes.
The room was blurred for a moment.
Lintorth looked around to get a sense of where he was. He knew he wasn’t captured by the unknown enemy, since neither strap nor cell awaited him.
He spied some coveralls on a chair near the wall, the only real furniture in the room besides the table he was on.
He brought confirmation of what he had already surmised: he was on a cargo ship. The smell and stains that coated the walls were a clear sign to the origins of the vessel. They were most un-official cargo runners, the kind of low-life Kryth Lintorth loathed and exploited within his own intelligence apparatus for the Domain.
A shard of pain shot through Lintorth’s body as he attempted to rise from his prone position. He felt the crude metal brace bite into his left leg.
Lintorth was in no mood to deal with this discomfort or some malpractice medical device the likes of which he would not even place on an injured Aythra .
With one rapid movement, he lifted himself up and off the table and found the clothes on the near chair.
Lintorth clenched his teeth as he stared over the room. “Where is my armor? Where is my cape?”
His mind pictured the degenerates aboard this tub. He could only imagine what they did with the cape as it was no doubt lying around some filthy bunk, used as drapes or as a nice rug somewhere aboard the ship.
Lintorth’s mind was now focused.
His anger obscured the ache in his body as the notion of the future existence of the Domain and the Kryth Mahr race was at hand. He must reach the communication room onboard and send a warning to his intel network regarding the new unknown invaders in the Sol System.
Lintorth exited the room and limped down the hall at the fastest pace allowed by the metal contraption secured to his leg.
He reached up with a hand and pulled off the haphazard bandages placed on his face by who knows-what-unpracticed scum.
Ahead, he spotted two of the crew from this ship; they looked to be guarding the door to the bridge of the vessel.
“Funny,” he said to himself, wondering what they were guarding the bridge entrance of a run-down cargo ship for. Smirking, he knew full well whom they were safeguarding it from.
The two Kryth stepped forward from their positions at the door to intercept the unknown ‘striped face’ approaching.
“Stop right there,” the tall, skinnier one said with some forced bravado.
Lintorth looked over both. “I must be allowed to speak to the captain of this ship. It’s of vital Domain importance that I do.”
He already knew their answer, but had to wait until their response fell from their grimy mouths.
The short stubby guard puffed up at what his skinny partner would say next, as he too was feeling his comrade’s swagger.
The scrawny sentry responded, “Captain does not have time for you. Now go back to your room until you are called.”
“Yeah, go back to your room before you fall down,” the short one snickered.
Lintorth, though wounded, closed the final few feet of the gap from the two with lightning speed, driving his hand against the tall Kryth’s throat and into the door behind.
With his other hand, Lintorth had already un-sheathed the crewman’s knife, thrusting it against the throat of the other so-called bridge guard.
“Like I said, I would like to speak to the captain of this ship. Do I hear any, and I will repeat this only once, do I hear any objections from either of you two?” His eyes blazed with death as he contemplated the sentries’ fate with the question.
The guards began to shake their heads in immediate acknowledgment.
Lintorth heaved the throat-gripped Kryth
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