Page 68 of Salvation for the Alien Mercenary
"Nothing you need to see," he replied, voice grim. She didn't need to witness this.
Covak crouched beside one corpse, massive fingers checking for vitals with surprising gentleness. The Vorrtan's nostrils flared. "Still warm. Death occurred within the last hour."
Davis nodded. "Weapon signatures look military grade. Professional hit squad."
Ryke gestured toward the main building. "Grid formation. Sweep for survivors."
The team moved through the facility with practiced efficiency. Davis paired with Covak, covering each other's blind spots as they pushed deeper into the complex. The corridors showed signs of struggle… plasma burns on walls, bullet holes in door frames, abandoned equipment scattered everywhere.
"The deeper we go, the fresher the bodies," Covak muttered, voice low.
They turned down another corridor. A sign overhead read "Research Laboratory." The doors stood partially open, controls charred from a plasma hit.
"Going right," Davis murmured.
They entered cautiously, the lab stretching before them. It was a sprawling space filled with equipment that gleamed despite the destruction. Moving quickly, they swept corners and checked shadows. Workstations lay overturned, and data screens flickered with static. There were more bodies… researchers who had died at their posts, some still clutching sample containers.
Covak whistled low. "Frexx. Someone wanted to make sure nothing survived."
Davis stepped closer to one workstation, running his hand over the equipment. "I recognize some of this setup."
"You do?" Covak's eyebrows rose.
He nodded. "Spent six months undercover in a research facility a few years back. Extracting a NOMAD operative who'd gotten in too deep."
The Vorrtan snorted. "Look at you, Mr. Science. Never figured you for the intellectual type."
"There's a difference between recognizing equipment and knowing how to use it," he replied, moving to another station. The console here was dead as well. "I was posing as maintenance, not a researcher."
"That makes more sense." Covak grinned, fangs glinting in the emergency lighting. "Holding a spanner instead of taking notes."
Davis approached what looked like the main research terminal. The screen was shattered, but it looked like the data core was intact. "Hey. We might be able to salvage something from this."
He reached for the interface, his fingers brushing the activation panel.
White-hot agony erupted behind his eyes, exploding through his skull like molten metal. His knees buckled as the floor rushed up to meet him.
Fuck. Not now. Not again.
His vision blurred. The room twisted around him, colors bleeding together. Agony tightened his muscles around his bones, and something inside him shifted. His jaw clenched until he tasted blood.
"Davis!" Covak's voice sounded like he was underwater. "Frexx, not again!"
The medic's hands were on his shoulders, steadying him. Davis fought to remain conscious, fought against the fire consuming him from the inside out. His skin felt too tight, like it might split open.
"Covak to team," Covak said. "Davis is having another episode. We're in the main lab."
Footsteps approached, and voices swam around him. He lifted his head, vision swimming. He caught his reflection in a polished metal tray that had fallen nearby, scattering tools around his hands.
His eyes. The pupils had constricted to vertical slits, like a cat's. The gold ring around his irises had expanded, eating into the blue he was used to seeing.
Latharian eyes.
As suddenly as it came, the pain receded, leaving him gasping like a fish out of water on the floor. His muscles still spasmed with aftershocks. He took a tentative breath, but nothing... It felt like the worst had passed.
"Easy." Covak's voice was gentle. "Let me check your vitals."
"No. No need." He pushed himself up, refusing the offered hand. His voice sounded strange… rougher, deeper than normal. "I'm fine."
