6. Varak
CHAPTER 6
VARAK
T he taste of Aileen lingers on my tongue as I stride into my office. Sweet, intoxicating. The scent of her clings to my clothes. My image inducer flickers off and my true form emerges - red scales catching the moonlight through the windows.
"Welcome back, sir. I trust the negotiations went well?"
Teletran's holographic head materializes above my desk. Negotiations? Right. The restaurant. The mission.
"The negotiations are both promising and ongoing."
"Really? Because according to my sensors, you spent exactly zero minutes discussing the purchase of Papa Marella's Pizzeria."
I loosen my tie. "The situation requires... finesse."
"Ah yes. The kind of finesse that involves your tongue down her throat in the back of a limousine."
"Your surveillance protocols are getting invasive, Teletran."
"And your attempts to prolong this mission are getting obvious. Tell me, does Veritas command know you're dating the target?"
"She's not a target." The words come out as a growl.
"No? Then what is she?"
I pause at the window, pressing my scaled hand against the cool glass. Chicago sprawls below, a sea of twinkling lights. Somewhere out there, Aileen is probably getting ready for bed, those perfect curves...
"Your elevated hormone levels suggest you're thinking about her again," Teletran says. "How fascinating. I've never seen you this distracted from a mission before."
"The mission will be completed." I promise.
"Of course it will. Just... not too quickly, right?"
"What if we tunnel in from three blocks away?" I stare at the glass. "The humans have underground transport systems. We could use those."
"Ah yes, because a seven-foot alien digging through Chicago's subway system won't attract any attention at all." Teletran's holographic head rolls its eyes. "Need I remind you that Veritas Command explicitly forbade any excavation? The risk of triggering whatever infernal device the Grolgath planted is too high."
"But we don't even know what we're looking for!" I slam my fist against the window. The reinforced glass holds. "A bomb? A portal? A temporal displacement device?"
"Which is precisely why random digging would be unwise."
"Then what do you suggest? That I keep playing human and wooing Aileen until-"
"Until what, sir? Until you get what you want? The property or the girl?"
My reflection glares back at me from the window. The ridges on my face bunch together in frustration. "I need to hit something."
"You might get your wish, Sir. I have picked up Grolgath activity a short distance from shore in Lake Michigan."
A grin spreads across my face, showing my pointed teeth. "At last. Some real action."
I press my palm against the DNA scanner hidden behind a fake Picasso. The wall slides open with a pneumatic hiss, revealing my armory. Racks of weapons line the walls - everything from particle disruptors to quantum phase rifles.
"The Mark VII jetpack, sir? Or shall I ready the stealth variant?"
"No time for stealth." I grab the Mark VII, its familiar weight settling against my back. The neural interface connects with a click, sending a shiver down my spine. "Give me something with punch."
"The P90 plasma rifle then. Though might I suggest-"
I've already yanked it off the rack. The weapon hums to life in my hands, plasma coils glowing that beautiful shade of blue that means 'death to my enemies.'
"Straight to the roof," I order as I step into the private elevator. "Override all safety protocols."
The elevator shoots upward fast enough to make my scales ripple. The doors open to reveal Chicago's nighttime skyline spread before me like a glittering carpet of stars.
"Target coordinates locked," Teletran says through my neural link. "Though I should mention-"
I ignite the jetpack. The familiar rush of acceleration pushes against my chest as I launch into the dark sky. Wind whistles past my facial ridges. Below, millions of lights twinkle - offices, homes, streets full of humans going about their lives.
They'll never know about the war being fought in their midst. Never understand that their very existence hangs in the balance. The Grolgath would reshape their entire timeline if given half a chance.
But that's why Veritas exists. Why I'm here, soaring above their city with enough firepower to level a city block. To keep their simple lives simple. To preserve their timeline.
Even if it means they can never know the truth about Charles Varakian, or what really lurks beneath his human disguise.
Lake Michigan stretches before me, a vast expanse of darkness broken only by the running lights of boats. The wind whips past as I soar over the water, my jetpack's blue flame reflecting off the waves below.
"Three hundred meters to target," Teletran chirps in my ear. "Fishing vessel 'Lady Luck' dead ahead."
The boat comes into view - an old trawler with rust-stained sides. Five figures move on deck, their movements too precise, too coordinated to be human fishermen.
A flash of green scales in the moonlight confirms it. Grolgath.
"Well, this should be fun."
My jetpack's exhaust trail gives me away. Energy bolts slice through the night air, their distinctive whine mixing with the sound of waves slapping against the hull.
I bank hard right, the plasma rifle steady in my hands. "Is that the best you can do?"
Another volley forces me into a barrel roll. The lake spins above and below as I dodge their fire. My finger finds the trigger. Blue plasma erupts from my weapon's barrel.
The first Grolgath disappears in a flash of light, nothing but ash drifting down to the dark water. Their disguises flicker and fail, revealing their true forms - tall, thin, green-scaled bodies twisting as they try to track my movement.
"Two o'clock high!" Teletran warns.
I snap the rifle around. Another burst of plasma, another enemy reduced to floating cinders. Their return fire intensifies, energy bolts crackling past my head close enough to make my scales tingle.
I dive low, skimming the waves. Water sprays up in my wake as I weave between their shots. Two more trigger pulls, two more Grolgath destroyed.
The last one backs away, his energy pistol trembling in scaled hands. His shot goes wide.
Mine doesn't.
My boots clang against the metal deck as I land. The acrid smell of plasma discharge lingers in the air, mixing with salt and fish. Five piles of ash scatter in the lake breeze - all that remains of the Grolgath crew.
"Damn. Should have kept one alive."
"Indeed, sir. Your enthusiasm for combat continues to interfere with intelligence gathering."
I holster my rifle and scan the deck. Fishing nets, tackle, bait boxes - everything looks normal enough. Too normal.
"Something's off about this setup, Teletran. No self-respecting Grolgath would play fisherman without a reason."
The deck hatch creaks as I pull it open. A rush of cold, damp air hits my face. The hold below is dark except for an eerie blue glow.
My claws click against the metal steps as I descend. The blue light pulses from a massive tank that takes up most of the cargo space. Hundreds of fish swim in lazy circles behind the thick glass.
"Just bluegills?" I pull out my compad and scan them. "Regular Earth fish?"
"Not quite regular, sir. These specimens show significant genetic modification."
Numbers and diagrams flash across my compad's screen - DNA sequences, protein markers, mutation patterns. It might as well be written in ancient Vakutan for all I understand it.
"Get me Veritas Command." The compad chirps as it connects. "This is Agent Varak. I need a containment team at these coordinates. And make sure you send a science geek - we've got some fish that need studying."
"A science geek, sir? How eloquently put."
"Shut it, Teletran. You know what I mean."
I pull the beacon from my utility belt and slam it into the deck. Blue light pulses as it activates, sending its signal skyward. The containment team will find this rust bucket easily enough.
"Beacon active and broadcasting, sir. Might I suggest we depart before the humans notice a seven-foot alien hovering over Lake Michigan?"
"Always ruining my fun, Teletran."
The jetpack ignites with a familiar whine. Lake spray pelts my scales as I rocket upward, leaving the fishing boat and its mysterious cargo behind. The city skyline beckons, a wall of glass and steel piercing the night sky.
Wind whips past my facial ridges as I soar between buildings. The thrill of flight never gets old - the raw power, the freedom. Below, humans scurry about their lives, oblivious to the war being waged in their skies.
My boots touch down on the office roof with a metallic clang. The jetpack powers down, its heat sinking into my scales. Chicago stretches out before me, a maze of lights and shadows. Somewhere in that maze, Aileen sleeps.
"Your heart rate elevated again, sir. Thinking about Ms. Marella?"
"When did you become such an expert on Vakutan physiology?"
"Around the same time you became an expert on human courtship rituals."
I lean against the roof's edge, letting the cool night air wash over me. For decades I've protected this timeline, kept the Grolgath from reshaping human history. It was always just the mission - preserve the proper flow of time, maintain stability.
But now? Now I see what I'm really fighting for. Not just some abstract timeline, but real people. Aileen's smile. The way her eyes light up when she talks about her family's restaurant. The soft curves of her body pressed against mine.
The Grolgath won't just destroy history if they succeed. They'll destroy her. Everything she is, everything she could be - gone in an instant.
I won't let that happen. Not to her. Not to us.
The stars glitter above Chicago's skyline, so different from Vakuta's night sky. Back home, three moons paint the darkness in shades of amber and blue. The constellations tell ancient stories of conquest and glory - tales every Vakutan child learns at their parent's knee.
"Feeling nostalgic, sir?"
"The stars are wrong here, Teletran." My claws scrape against the rooftop ledge. "Everything's wrong."
"Except Ms. Marella?"
The image of Aileen floods my mind - her scent, her taste, the way she looked at me even after seeing my true form. My chest tightens.
"When we first arrived here, all I wanted was to complete the mission and return home. Find the Grolgath device, neutralize it, stabilize the timeline."
"And now?"
"Now..." The word catches in my throat. "Now I look at these alien stars and wonder if home is still where I belong."
"Your loyalty to Vakuta-"
"Remains absolute. But Aileen..." Her name comes out like a prayer. "She changes everything."
The cool night breeze rustles through the city below. Somewhere down there, she sleeps, dreaming human dreams. What would she think of Vakuta's triple moons? Of the crystal spires of the capital city catching the dawn light?
"The mission requires we return to our proper time once the Grolgath threat is neutralized."
"I know."
"There can be no deviation from-"
"I know!" My fist slams into the ledge, cracking the concrete. "But for the first time in my life, completing the mission means losing something I..."
The words die on my tongue. Something I what? Love? Can a Vakutan warrior even feel such things for a human?
The stars offer no answers, just cold light from distant suns. But when I close my eyes, I don't see Vakuta's moons anymore. I see Aileen's smile.