Page 47 of Shattered Silence

Reluctantly, Enki released her. “Don’t say anything. Just walk in front of me,” he whispered, keeping a wary eye on the mech. “We’re going to get out of here. That is a promise.”

Thank the Goddess she trusted him.

They walked up the boarding ramp, following Kyral.

“Traitor! Get off my fucking stealth flyer immediately!” A deep voice boomed down from above, making Enki turn. There was General Daegan himself, standing on a high bridge that overlooked the entire docking bay. An entire Division of soldiers surrounded him, their plasma guns raised. “It’s about time I actually killed one of you hell-spawned bastards.”

Seeing Daegan in the flesh had a strange effect on Enki. The bastard didn’t appear to recognize him at all.

The anger welling up inside him turned cold, and as Enki stared back at haughty features that were so similar to his own, he knew without a doubt that he would kill this man.

Righal Daegan the Third, of House Daegan, was the piece-of-shit who had given his son to the secret experimental program on Xar, knowing very well that the boy—barely into adolescence—probably wouldn’t survive.

Out of thousands, only ten had survived.

Enki was one of those survivors. The bastard-born son of a noble, turned into a demon-made-flesh.

Oh, he’d read the file in the datacube Zharek al Sirian had conveniently slipped into his hand. He knew he and Daegan shared blood, and he wanted to wipe out that side of his existence forever.

Highborn Kordolian scum.

In that instant, the Tharian’s thoughts became Enki’s own as their consciousnesses merged, and suddenly, they were united by their deep, deep hatred of the noble class, of Daegan, and of the fractured Kordolian Empire. Even in death, the cursed Empire’s destructive influence pervaded every corner of the Nine Galaxies.

Hatred consumed him like a windstorm in the Vaal, and bit by bit, his control slipped. This was not how a First Division warrior should react, but Enki was too far gone to care. He felt the familiar ripple of the Tharian’s influence as it tried to break free of his mental bonds, as it sang to him of vengeance.

“Enki…” But Layla was there too, gentle yet insistent, the perfect counterpoint to his cold rage.

He remembered his duty. His orders. His training.

And still, he wanted everything at once.

“Layla, get inside the ship and take cover, now.”

She didn’t waste time.

Enki pointed his gun at Daegan and fired, summoning his exo-helm in an instant. The bridge above exploded in a shower of blue plasma fire and sparks.

Did we get him?

I never miss.

Chaos. Shouting. Daegan’s guards—what was left of them—simultaneously raising their guns and firing a volley of plasma back at him.

Daegan was falling.

The roar of their guns was deafening. A stream of plasma hit Enki in the chest, and he was thrown back against the boarding ramp. Pain ripped through his body and turned his vision black, but his impenetrable exo-armor had protected him from serious injury.

Ignoring the pain, he looked up as his vision cleared. He saw perhaps the slightest glimmer of recognition on the Daegan’s face as he fell, but Enki couldn’t be sure, and suddenly there was…

Chaos. You need to protect her. Move, soldier! Forget him. He is nothing to you.

Pushing through a haze of agony, he leapt to his feet and darted up the ramp, diving inside to take cover. The sheer intensity of his pain made him drop to his knees. One plasma blast was bad enough, but multiple…

He was stuck in his own personal hell.

Inside the ship, Layla stared at him in shock. She ran to him, dropping to her knees. “Shit, Enki. Are you all right?”

“Fine,” he grunted, looking across at the navigator. The blue glow of the ship’s sylth washed over him as it registered his presence.

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