Page 114 of The Edge of Dawn

Dragek waited on the outside of the ship, holding onto a pair of hand grips that he’d attached to the Callidum hull. He was perfectly still, allowing the cold, silent vacuum of space to flow around him.

Across from him was Ashrael, a sleek, dark atmospheric suit covering the saladin skinsuit he wore underneath. Dragek was similarly dressed. The Callidum-reinforced outer suit was impenetrable to most things whilst remaining lightweight and flexible, allowing them to move with ease. The suit itself regulated pressure and temperature. Oxygen was supplied through a respirator attached to a small molecular generator.

They could hang in space for a long time if they wanted, but this wouldn’t take long at all.

Soon, they would infiltrate the enemy ship.

Just as soon as this Enki—yet another First Division warrior, making six of them in total—opened the ship’s infernal airlock.

Apparently, they’d devised a way of doing it without triggering any alarms.

When that happened, they would shed their suits, don their masks, and slip inside, utilizing the ka’qui to enter the state of qim.

They would become undetectable.

Tarak and Kail were there too, armed to the teeth and clad in the unique symbiotic Callidum exo-armor that made the First Division so impossible to kill.

They were closer to the airlock than Dragek and Ashrael—a pair of menacing figures waiting in the cold silence. They would enter first, diverting attention from him and Ashrael.

They were the muscle and the firepower. The intimidation and the brutal force.

He and Ashrael were the stealth, the quiet precision, silent death delivered swiftly.

Actually, they complemented each other well.

Ashrael turned to look at him, his features obscured by the gleaming visor of the respirator.

Don’t expect this to go to plan.

Dragek no longer objected to the mindspeech. Suspicion and hostility had turned into mutual understanding. The notorious Ashrael didn’t have any ulterior motives against him. Dragek now understood that he’d been tested—to see if he was redeemable. Whatever they wanted in him, they’d found it.

The kill-switch was still inside his body, though. He resented it, but he could understand why Tarak hadn’t removed it.

Kordolians were a naturally distrusting people—with good reason.

Why are you saying this right now?

It’s a simple reminder. You should know from experience that things can deviate from the expected very quickly. At first glance, Amun Kazharan’s behavior appears illogical. Something is off. And although Tarak has requested that you retrieve him alive, if you find yourself in a situation where his death is unavoidable, then you must kill him. The humans must be kept safe at all costs, and you aren’t expendable either.

Good to know, Dragek responded dryly. But who am I to decide if killing him is unavoidable?

If you find yourself in such a situation, you’ll know.

Hm. Ashrael’s cryptic answer left him both reassured and uneasy. In the past, his orders had been absolute, with no room for deviation or error. It was the first time he would have to exercise his own judgment. So be it.

A soft glimmer of light danced across the periphery of his ka’qui, radiant particles streaming out from a small opening in the ship’s roof.

That’s it. The airlock’s open. Wait.

He watched as Tarak and Kail gracefully moved across the ship’s surface, reaching the airlock in a heartbeat. For such big guys, they moved so effortlessly. Like shadows, like liquid, they disappeared inside.

Let’s go.

Then, he followed Ashrael, pulling himself across the surface with the help of the grips, which attached and detached at will. The airlock was typical for this sort of vessel, an imperfectly rectangular opening through which blue light spilled into the darkness.

It was open just wide enough for them to slip through.

After you.

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