Upon the Threshold
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Loose Id Titles by April Zyon
April Zyon
UPON THE THRESHOLD
April Zyon
www.loose-id.com
Upon the Threshold
Copyright © May 2015 by April Zyon
All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
Image/art disclaimer: Licensed material is being used for illustrative purposes only. Any person depicted in the licensed material is a model.
eISBN 9781623008550
Editor: Kierstin Cherry
Cover Artist: Syneca Featherstone
Published in the United States of America
Loose Id LLC
PO Box 170549
San Francisco CA 94117-0549
www.loose-id.com
This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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* * * *
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Chapter One
2275 AD (old calendar)—145 AED (After Earth Departure)
“Regent, they have landed their ships.”
Hissing out a breath, the regent stood and followed his man out of his office. Stopping near one of the other men as they monitored the many satellites, he leaned in to look at the holographic screens. Most beings in the universe didn’t realize the level of technology the Droushanian people had, and that was the way they wanted it.
Their people, the Droushanian, preferred being thought of and labeled as the outlaws of the galaxy. The way they conducted business and dealt with intruders helped with that image and usually kept others from sneaking in beyond their borders. But not these people, whoever they were.
They would learn soon enough just what he and his fellow Droushanians brought to the party.
“Contact Sect Leader Kraven and have him and his team infiltrate and discover their purpose,” he said to his second.
His order got him a blank stare of confusion from the man. “Sir?”
“Learn your opponent and their weaknesses before you exploit or kill them,” the regent said. “They haven’t yet made any hostile movements and appear to be doing something for us by their actions in terraforming one of our uninhabitable planets. We will allow them to finish that before we rip their spines out, should they have spines of course.”
“Of course, Regent. Apologies for questioning you, sir.” His second bowed his head.
“There will be more questions in regards to these”—the regent waved a hand— “we shall call them ‘people’ for a moment. Send a message to these people. I need to contact the high regent and update her.”
“As you will it, sir.” A salute in the form of a click of boot heels and a fist put to his shoulder midchest and then three fingers to his forehead before the man spun to move to a console.
Putting a hand on the technician’s shoulder, the regent leaned in closer to look at the screen once more. “Send everything to my office,” he ordered. A moment longer and then he returned to his office. He had a communication to initiate that he was not looking forward to.
The high regent was one woman no one, especially any who did or had worked for her, wanted to piss off. She could break a man quite easily, with only a lift of one finger. Pacing his office, he composed himself, getting into the right frame of mind and trying to prepare for any and all questions she would have. That was the real worry, not having an answer she would demand.
* * * *
Stepping off the ship, dressed in full battle gear, respirators in place and weapons in hand, Kraven signaled his crew to fan out. They would get close to the now landed vessels. They were on a fact-finding mission only.
“Sir.” One of the men moved. “The air here is now breathable and the climate is also approaching what ours is. It is cooler and the air slightly off our norm but nothing harmful.”
Nodding Kraven lifted a hand to his helmet and disengaged the breathing system, pulling the helmet off slowly. Sniffing, he wrinkled his nose ever so slightly before tugging the helmet off the rest of the way. “There is an aroma, not wholly unpleasant but different from the air.”
Another breath in and he let it out. Standing still, he sucked in a deeper breath and held it before releasing it. “Once you get past the scent, there really is no issue. Make a note and log that I’m authorizing everyone to remove their helmets. Ensure everyone has their communications on open channels and record everything found. No contact with these beings. We are strictly to watch and log everything.”
“Understood, sir.” After making the notations, the crewman went off to alert the others.
While the other drop ship unloaded, Kraven moved toward the crew and passed on his instructions as the weapons master joined him. Kraven nodded to him. “Lukkis.”
“Just another day, isn’t it?” the six-foot-seven male said. Pale gold hair framed a bronzed face that had strong bones, sharp cheekbones, a defined jaw, and a long, straight nose, which was paired with pale brown-green eyes. He had what the females called a striking face. A smile on full lips kept them from remembering what hid underneath. The broad shoulders and massive muscles, though, did little to hide his true nature.
The ritual tattooing from wrist to shoulder on his right arm was hidden under the gear, as was the thin scarring on his legs from an accident in early childhood. But all that only added to the allure women seemed to find in the very easygoing male.
Kraven was nearly a polar opposite of his friend. With his black hair, bright blue eyes that many said glowed with inner light, and darker skin tone, he was as different in looks as in temperament. Even with the dimple in his left cheek, women tended to avoid him once they saw his eyes and likely the slightly off-center nose from a really badly landed punch. Or perhaps a really well-landed punch depending on the point of view.
Standing at only an inch taller than Lukkis but stockier of build than
his friend, Kraven was eye to eye with Lukkis as they looked at one another. Scratching his jaw, he let out a breath. He had a feeling it was going to be a long mission.
“Do I have something on my face?” Lukkis asked. When Kraven just stared at him, Lukkis grinned. “Oh, come on, you’re looking at me so intently that has to be it.”
Turning his eyes to the heavens, Kraven groaned. “No, you do not have anything on your face,” he said. “I was just lost in thought, and your sad and pitiful countenance was in the line of sight.”
“Oh, how you wound me.” Lukkis clutched his chest and stumbled back a foot, the teasing clear in his voice. “Are you telling me that all the women who declare that I’m stunningly handsome are wrong?”
“Just blind, old friend,” Kraven said and allowed a small grin to curl his lips to show he was joking and meant no harm.
Snorting out a laugh at that, Lukkis shook his head and pushed a hand through his pale locks, lifting the hair out of place slightly. “Well, now that we’ve established what a mean brute you are, shall we get on with this mission?”
“We’d better. Otherwise, the males will believe you are flirting with me. Talk about ruining your reputation for good,” Kraven pointed out.
“Harsh, old friend. Indeed cruel.” But Lukkis was grinning even as he began to walk to Kraven’s side. They were on a mission, after all. Moving to their chosen spot, they adjusted in behind cover and pulled out long-range lenses. Settling them over their eyes, they sat back and watched the beings as they scurried about.
These people appeared much like their own Droushanian people—smaller, to be honest, and frailer in appearance. But they did come in a variety of sizes too, some smaller than others, and yet not a one as large as the average Droushanian. The females all seemed quite petite in height even if they were of more shapes than the Droushanian females.
Droushanian females were much like their male counterparts, tall and muscular but in a slimmer, more pleasing manner than the males. Males were built for strength, and to house what they did under their flesh, it was necessary.
These females, though, were all shapes, from slender to very curvy. If nothing else came of the mission, Kraven and Lukkis could always recommend grabbing the females and taking them home. It would likely please the Droushanian females to have a little less attention bearing on them to take mates and produce heirs. Besides, in war, there were prizes to be won, and these females would be fine prizes.
* * * *
For eighteen moon risings, Kraven and Lukkis watched from their outpost as the people—humans, as they called themselves—labored to set up housing and other essentials. They had created a town quite quickly, their buildings popping up and snapping together with seemingly great ease.
“They appear very organized,” Kraven commented to Lukkis.
It was after the dawning of their nineteenth day on the planet. Lukkis had to agree. The humans were organized. They appeared to be quite intelligent. They had keepers patrolling the perimeter, with a very clear sect leader whom they all reported to. While their weaponry was strange, it was what it was.
The planet was newly reformed, and yet they were smart enough to think to protect themselves during the day while the general populace worked and then through the night while all others slept. They’d established a pattern with those defending the perimeter. They were only on shift for six hours before cycling off duty, replacements stepping in for their six-hour shift. Yet it wasn’t a full shift change. They had the numbers staggered in a manner that he approved of and one that he would himself have employed.
During the day the workers were planting and tending to their foodstuffs as well as caring for small creatures. He wasn’t sure what they were for, pets or food. If they were for food, they were not large enough to feed the human populace residing there. And if the animals were pets, it seemed rather pointless to have them around and spend so much time on them when other things needed to be done.
Both he and Kraven had been shocked that the humans spoke a language very similar to the Droushanian tongue. While it was not exactly the same, there were many words they had no need of translation for. It was close enough, that, should an Intercessor be required, there would be little trouble communicating.
Lukkis’s attention shifted when Kraven put a hand to his ear and frowned. Lukkis lifted a brow. After a few grunts and single words from his friend, what he considered a long enough period, Lukkis started to make faces to gain some attention. During one particularly bad one, Kraven finally looked Lukkis’s way. Quickly turning his look into a grin, Lukkis waited.
His friend wasn’t amused, if the look Lukkis got was any indication. “Command from our homeworld are saying that they will be sending in an Intercessor to make contact. From all the scans and images we have sent back with our reports, they view them as low-risk contact.”
That was something. “When?” Lukkis asked.
“They are pulling in an Intercessor, a female, now. She should join us with more Keepers by tomorrow’s dawning if everything goes according to plan.”
“The sooner, the better. I’m more than a little tired of sitting around doing nothing. Had I known that there would be no shooting involved, I would never have answered the call to join you. I would have remained abed, preferably with female companionship, but either way I would not be here.”
“Right, like the last time we had a likely nondeadly encounter. You never leave me to my own devices for long.”
“True enough. You tend to get into trouble if I’m not around.”
“I tend to get into trouble when you are around.” Kraven snorted in return.
“Again, wounded here,” Lukkis said, shaking his head. “Really, must you be so harsh in your phrasing when you speak of me?”
“If the words befit the person they are aimed at, yes.”
“I’m beginning to believe you don’t like having me as a friend, Kraven. Say this is not the truth and relieve my mind of these dark thoughts.”
Kraven paused for a long time…much too long, in Lukkis’s opinion, for the question. “It is not the truth, so let your mind feel relief from the dark thoughts overshadowing it. You are my friend, and I value your friendship. If I did not, I would have left you to the Crastouols those many moons past.”
A shudder rippled through Lukkis at the mention of the Crastouols. Vile beings that they were, they’d wanted to make him—him—a pet to be used in many disgusting and offensive ways. “That is too cruel to even bring up in polite conversation, old friend.”
The nearly eight-feet-tall, red-skinned, horned beings of a planet rotating near the sun of the Droushanian system were not to be messed with. The males and females were impossible to distinguish except for stripes on their backs. Unfortunately, you had to be behind them to see the stripes to know if it was a male or female you spoke with, and they never let any being at their backs. Rather difficult to know how to refer to a being when you didn’t know its sex.
“Merely stating a point, old friend,” Kraven said with a low chuckle. Then he let out a sigh and laid his head back against the large stone they currently both leaned against. “I will catch a bit of sleep. Wake me before the suns get too high in the sky and we shall move locations so you may rest.”
“Acknowledged,” Lukkis said before falling silent.
Chapter Two
The following dawning brought their Intercessor to the scene. A female, as Kraven had told Lukkis the moon before.
After exchanging greetings and giving the female more information she might or might not require, they spread out to control the scene if needed. Kraven, along with Lukkis and two other Keepers, moved with the Intercessor down the hill toward the human’s village.
They were spotted quickly, the Keepers standing watch calling out warnings to the others of the populace. There was some panic before a small group, with Keepers surrounding them, came to meet Kraven’s group just outside the previously established borders.
Kraven’s group stopped as well, a fair distance back, close enough to easily hear with their superior senses, but far enough away to present less of a threat. And while their hands were on their weapons, all weaponry within sight of the humans was kept down in a nonthreatening manner. As the Intercessor had requested.
“Greetings on this fine dawning. I am Intercessor Phalea,” she began. Heels together, she gave a slight bow, pressing three fingers to her forehead before extending them in a downward sweep. An informal greeting to the humans. Not that they would know that.
The humans seemed stunned. Kraven had warned the Intercessor that they likely would be. The revelation about their language similarities had been a bit of a shock to her, but she’d appeared pleased at the idea.
The humans in the middle of the circle of Keepers leaned into one another to whisper. Not that it did much good with Droushanian hearing, of course.
“They speak English,” one male whispered.
“Who are they? Where did they come from?” another male whispered.
“They appeared well armed, but it’s a small contingent. We shouldn’t have any trouble if the need arises to kill them,” yet another male said, his voice more a whiny hiss than whisper.
Lukkis looked Kraven’s way and sent his gaze toward the sky as if praying for patience. His friend obviously had the same thought Lukkis did. The humans had no idea just how many weapons were actually trained on them. Nor would they if they behaved themselves.
Apparently the humans had come to some decision, and one of the males, an elder Lukkis was guessing from the white hair and heavily lined face, stepped forward. “I am called Marcus. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Intercessor Failah,” he said, his pronunciation of her name slightly off.
The Intercessor didn’t even flinch. Then again, she was likely used to non-Droushanians messing it up, Lukkis realized.
“A pleasure to meet you as well, Marcus.” She did better with his name than the male had done with hers. At least the way she’d pronounced his name made it sound more lyrical than it had from his own lips.