Page 38 of Wrath

We then moved on to the final test, taking the two parts of the last Jadozor we had captured out of their containment chambers. We placed the head and body next to each other in a similar atmospheric environment as in the base. Despite the absence of oxygen, the severed head immediately reattached to its body. However, the creature remained unconscious in the absence of the proper conditions to sustain life. Wrath released the virus canister.

To our shock, Wrath didn’t even need to fish out the gland. The enhanced nanobots did quite a number on the creature. They didn’t just eat away the hard shell of the pituitary gland, but the creature’s skeleton and teeth as well since the second antigen targeted was present in all three. Once we were convinced the creature was beyond representing a threat, Nathalie had fun fishing through the boneless mass for the crumpled remains of the gland to confirm our total success. I felt sorry for our poor medical officer.

With this victory under our belts, we discussed our next course of action over lunch. The team was in high spirits. Depending on how long it took us to pierce through the reinforced doors, we could potentially be on our way back home this very night or tomorrow at the latest. I couldn’t wait to see the back of this planet, of this wretched base, and of the foul creatures it contained.

“Did we ever find out why the General gave up on this project?” I asked.

“They couldn’t control the creatures,” Nathalie answered, while indulging in a piece of strawberry shortcake bigger than her head. “They tried a number of mind-control implants, but the Jadozors are too feral.”

“The irony is that the original creatures were easy to control with the chips, but too peaceful to become weapons of war,” Myriam said with disgust. “So, they spliced them with predatory creatures whose instincts took over.”

“They are mindless creatures now,” Varnog said. “I might have been able to mind-control the original Jadozors. These ones are too savage to obey a compulsion, be it of psychic nature or cybernetic. Therefore, they were turning on their masters.”

“It’s a damn good thing, too,” Nathalie said with a grim expression. “From everything we’ve read, the Jadozors were indeed designed to act like liveships. The Kryptids couldn’t control them even to test that part of their evolution. The hardness of their scales further confirms it, but none of them are fully mature.”

“What?” Wrath asked, his stunned expression echoing mine.

“At full maturity, the Jadozors are expected to be almost twice the size of the ones we believed to be adults,” our medical officer explained. “They stopped the research before then.”

“But not before they were spliced with some Swarm Drone DNA as well,” Myriam interjected.

I recoiled. “Why would they do that?”

“So that they can reproduce in large numbers at a very fast pace,” Dread responded grimly. “As we presumed, Khutu was designing them to attack as a swarm, but an immortal one. They would have been a military grade swarm of locusts.”

My blood turned to ice. I’d never seen the Drones in the flesh, only in holographic simulations. The nightmarish creatures looked like a giant spider mounted by the torso of a praying mantis. Once mature, they were also two meters high. Their only goal in life was to kill, feed, and reproduce. Individually, they were lethal to a human. As a swarm, they were nearly unstoppable, even for the Xians.

“That’s why we need to find and destroy those damn eggs the Coalition chaser absconded with before we arrived,” Nathalie said grimly. “God only knows what carnage they will cause otherwise.”

“Do we have any lead on that?” I asked.

“The tracker Myriam put inside their vessel is still on the move,” Wrath said. “Chaos will hunt them down as soon as Doom returns from his current mission.”

“As in Doom will handle the leadership of the Vanguard while you’re all gone?” Linette asked with an incredulous expression.

Everyone around the table chuckled, and a shit-eating grin blossomed on Wrath’s face while he nodded.

“What am I missing?” I asked, confused by their reaction.

“Doom haaaaaaaaaates administrative stuff or shouldering any type of role that involves general management and diplomatic discussions,” Wrath said without the slightest sympathy. “He just loves killing shit and bragging about how freaking unkillable he is.”

“Is he?” I asked.

The way Wrath and Dread scrunched their faces was all the answer I needed. I laughed.

“Being a pencil-pusher for a while will do him some good,” Dread said with malicious glee.

“He was supposed to cut down on his missions, anyway,” Myriam said in a gentle tone. “Doom and Victoria have a new infant son. He promised that he wouldn’t miss out on him growing as much as he had missed Raven’s youth. And now that the Xian Warriors’ fertility issues have been resolved, I suspect Victoria will want to expand their family by another brat or two.”

“Really?” I asked, my eyes widening.

Victoria was now 64 years old, although she still had her 29-year-old body, the age at which she bonded with Doom. She would remain this young and fresh for at least another 80-90 years, at which point she would start aging normally. In her shoes, would I still want to be popping out babies at that age? Then again, the Warriors struggled to conceive for decades. It wasn’t surprising that Victoria would want to make up for lost time now.

“Yes, really,” Wrath said matter-of-factly. However, the intensity of his gaze as it locked with mine hinted at far more. “Our numbers were decimated during the Battle for Earth, and we lost a few more Xians over the decades that followed before the Dragons fixed our reproductive issues. Now that the Kryptid War is over, all mated Warriors are expected to put their best foot forward to help replenish our ranks.”

I swallowed hard, his meaning crystal clear. I silenced the sense of unease that wanted to creep back to the surface. Wrath knew that the car accident had made me barren. He believed it was a non-issue. I had no reason to doubt him, and yet… God knew I wanted children. Loads of them. I loved my adoptive parents dearly, but growing up a single child had been lonely. I didn’t want that for my own kids.

“Dear team leader, I can assure you that your ‘best foot’ isnotwhat you’re expected to put forward to perform your duty,” Varnog said with that insufferable taunting expression that always made you both want to strangle and hug him. “I can explain the mechanics of it all if needed.”

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