Home > Varnog (Xian Warriors #6)(8)

Varnog (Xian Warriors #6)(8)
Author: Regine Abel

The throatiness and breathiness of his voice had always been somewhat mesmerizing. But enhanced by the microphone, it had something almost mythical to it, dangerous and oddly sexy. He had spoken those words in a polite, matter-of-fact fashion that still managed to sound as if he had just said ‘I’m going to slowly skin you alive, but please have a coffee and an amuse-bouche while I sharpen my knives.’

“Those who choose that option will be happy to hear that after a couple of sessions, it will become delightfully predictable and repetitive,” Varnog said, his dark gaze boring into the foolish man. “But then, that should put all you pussies at ease.”

A collective gasp rose from the room while Legion and Chaos visibly cringed. Bane couldn’t seem to decide if he wanted to burst out laughing or frown reproachfully at the Scelk and settled for a somewhat stunned expression. Sabra, Tyonna, and I snorted, while Ayana chuckled. Myriam covered her mouth in disbelief and slowly shook her head.

“Ah! Eat that, bitches,” Tabitha said.

“Tabitha!” Myriam whispered disapprovingly, although she was clearly fighting her own urge to laugh.

“He kinda deserved it,” I said, chuckling as well.

“Apologies,” Varnog said, glancing sideways at Legion and Chaos, not sounding the least bit sorry. “Unlike you fine Warriors, I am diplomatically challenged and have no time for fools.”

He turned back to look at the masses and removed his hood, revealing his face in all its frightening glory. I had seen him often, although I never truly paid attention to his features. Under the lighting of the stage, his face enlarged on the giant screen, every line, every curve, and every shade of his alien face came to life.

“A beautiful monster, isn’t he?” Sabra said as if thinking out loud.

“Indeed,” Tyonna said in a way that made me look at her questioningly. “If he had been interested, I definitely would have been,” the Portal said to me in response to my unspoken question.

That took me aback and made me give the Scelk leader a second look. I could see the attraction. His host had been a very handsome young Janaurian. The mutations caused by the Scelk fusing with the host had given him a tough, badass edge that was appealingly intimidating.

“Understand that I, personally, do not give a shit about most of you,” Varnog continued, to the obvious unease of the two faces of the Vanguard. They appeared to want to intervene, but a discreet glance from Bane kept them from acting. “I am here because my brothers and I have pledged our allegiance first to the Dragons who allowed us to become more than the monsters we have been created to be, and then to the Vanguard who have further supported us on our path towards enlightenment. Beyond that, they also share a common goal with us: destroying the General. So, whatever it takes, we will stand and do our share to ensure that vermin gets obliterated.”

He let his gaze roam over the attendance, hard and unyielding. Many squirmed in their seats, most with still outraged expressions but none daring to voice it.

“We’re not here to make friends or get your approval,” Varnog continued. “Whether you like it or not, we are Scelks. Deal with it. If we intended to mess with your feeble minds, we would have gone rogue a long time ago. It is quite presumptuous of you to think we have nothing better to do. We are here to provide you with the training that will allow the success of our mission and, above all, the survival of those we care about.”

He added those last words casting meaningful glances at the Vanguard leaders, The Dragons, the few Warriors present, and all of us psychic females. For some strange reason, I could have sworn his gaze lingered on me. But that was silly. It had probably been on either Tabitha or Sabra with whom he entertained a close friendship.

We all smiled or acknowledged the kind words with a nod or some other discreet gesture. Even though very few of us had a relationship with the Scelks, we all greatly valued them and owed them. It once more struck me that the Vanguard, as a whole, had done very little to acknowledge their contribution beyond mentioning it in their reports—a failure we needed to address.

“Training you will heavily tax us,” Varnog said. “Doing so with multiple groups for days on end will drain us. But we will do it gladly for those worthy of our time. When the war comes, my brothers and I will be on the ground alongside the Warriors and the Dragons on Kryptor. As we have done for well over two years now, we will fight with them and, if it comes to that, we will die alongside them. So, if you’re too afraid to train with us, leave. Instructions will be sent to your squad leaders as to how to sign up for the holographic scenarios. You have five minutes to exit the room before we go into details with those who remain.”

An uneasy silence settled over the room while many exchanged nervous glances, waiting to see who would be the first one with enough balls to take him at his word. Finally, someone stood up, shortly followed by a larger number, every single one of them coming from the outposts. Although Varnog’s expression remained neutral, almost bored, deep within I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that it had to hurt him.

By the time the doors closed behind the last person to exit, close to a third of the attendance had left. The seething anger burning in my guts took me by surprise, as well as the irrational need to get on stage and hug both Scelks, especially Varnog. And yet, the Scelk leader didn’t allow this to faze him. In fact, I got the disturbing impression that he was actually pleased with the number of people still present, having probably expected an even greater number of defections. That he should have deliberately put himself in a situation to be thus rejected for our greater good only increased my admiration and curiosity about him.

“Now, we can dive into the meat of things,” Legion said in a neutral voice, although I knew him enough to sense his seething anger beneath. Those who had walked out would hear from him after this was over. “We will let Varnog and Tremak walk you through the plan. A Q&A session will follow. Once again, if any of you have scheduling issues or special requests, feel free to reach out to Chaos or me.”

The co-leaders of the Vanguard both nodded at the Scelks and left the stage accompanied by Bane, although the latter remained on the side of the stage.

“Well then,” Varnog said with that disturbing—but oddly sexy—smirk that always seemed to stretch his lips, as if he knew some secret that was going to mess us up and that he couldn’t wait for us to realize it. “To all of you who have remained, get ready. The training will be intense and will simulate real world situations. Feedback will be welcomed after each session if you have specific issues.”

The image of the giant screen behind him shifted from a zoom in on his face to a fly by view of a holographic simulation of Kryptor.

“This is where we will battle,” Varnog continued. “Our simulations will be centered on the combatants that will go on the ground and especially pilots. Kryptor heavily uses psychic disruptors and dampeners. It is a way for the General to better control the population by forcing them to communicate electronically, which can be tracked and intercepted, unlike telepathy. This means our psychic females will have to fly in shuttles and smaller stealth vessels near the surface. But as you will see in the simulations, the landscape is not made flight friendly.”

My jaw dropped at the sight of the organic, oddly shaped buildings towering on the dry surface of the planet. They looked as if giant ant hills had been twisted in various directions, some of them connecting in weird places, almost looking like a fishing net in a 3D axis.

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