Despite the fact that the massive and thick door leading to his cell opened almost silently to the human ear, Koschei still heard it. He sat with his eyes closed in the middle of his cell, meditating and trying to break through the mental blockade surrounding him. So far, without success. But that was no reason to give up.
There was nothing in the brig of the Lantian city to help sense the change of day and night. Counting seconds would be an absolutely foolish endeavor and a useless waste of resources. Therefore, Koschei fell into a state close to suspended animation to slow down his life processes and conserve as much energy as possible. Although he had lost count of the time spent in the cell, he clearly understood that the energy accumulated from thousands of consumed human animals and fellow wraiths would be useful when he was ready to escape.
Perhaps this day had arrived today.
Feeling a barely perceptible gust of wind and the faint click of a lock, he opened his eyes.
Just in time to see people entering the cell. Two men, only one of whom was familiar.
"Ha, pale-face!" Mikhail demonstrated some gesture that Koschei didn't understand. At the same time, he did two things at once.
First, he slammed the other man, who had tried to break free from Mikhail's grip, against the bars of the cell. This man was clearly not wearing the same uniform as Mikhail, nor the members of his team that the wraith had seen.
Middle-aged human, dressed in a worn gray-brown uniform, with an angry face, but thoroughly disoriented (even before hitting the horizontal bars), this second man clearly did not look healthy.
But he was not a Lantian either — his behavior, facial expressions, even his body constitution were nothing like a representative of one of the Ancient peoples. It seemed to be one of the natives, not sufficiently developed. Perhaps even a representative of the enemies Mikhail had promised him.
"Don't struggle," Mikhail, with a kick to the kneecaps, forced his companion to fall to his knees. Holding him by the hair with his fingers, the Lantian performed the second action that attracted the wraith's attention.
He unlocked the entrance to the grate.
Externally indistinguishable from the wall, it glowed with a greenish light of a deactivated energy field as it moved aside, letting both men inside.
"Wraith!" the second man exclaimed, as if he had just seen the prisoner. He tried to slow his forward movement, began to push off with his feet, and strike Mikhail's body and arm. But the personal protective field enveloping him rendered all attempts to harm Mikhail futile.
Koschei mentally thanked the unknown for demonstrating the protection of the man who had captured the commander. Honestly, he himself had planned to attack Mikhail or any other member of his team as soon as they arrived. But now he understood that this would not be the best option.
"My people will take revenge!" the man declared at the moment when Mikhail had already grown tired of dealing with him. With one movement, the Lantian threw the man at the wraith's feet. Koschei, despite the proximity of the victim, was in no hurry to feed. He had not forgotten Mikhail's threat of biological weapons. And he assumed that during his captivity, a prototype might have been developed.
Mikhail had already demonstrated (so far, in words) that he was capable of crossing the moral line that prevented the Lantians from fighting to the last and at any cost. Such a person could, without remorse, unilaterally change the terms of their agreement and decide that cooperation with a wraith would not benefit him. Moreover, he was undoubtedly continuing to scan the wraith, even after demonstrating that he had dismantled the equipment. And he might have found a more compliant representative of his race.
"Commander Cowan will not let this go!" the man assured, cowering in the corner of the cell. "As soon as he finds out, he will take revenge! You will all die! I promise you will answer for everything you have done!"
Koschei, intrigued by what he heard, turned his head towards Mikhail, who stood impassively in the passageway.
"What is this?" the wraith asked, pointing at the pathetic human.
"An advance," the Lantian explained. "You remember the agreement: I feed, you work. It's time to improve your health and get to work."
"You're even cooperating with wraiths?!" the man shouted. "The people of Pegasus will not forgive you such treachery!"
"And why should I believe that the food is not poisoned?" Koschei asked. He looked at the offered prey and grimaced with disgust. How pathetic and weak was this man?
"Why would I poison my assistant now?" Mikhail wondered. "I don't recall you even starting what we agreed upon."
"And you're not in a hurry to bring me frozen Lantians either," the wraith noted.
"Everything in its own time," Mikhail shrugged.
"...Cooperation with wraiths is the gravest sin for all people in the galaxy and... A-A-A-A-A-A!!!"
At the end of his angry tirade, the future food began to shriek in high tones. Not of his own volition, of course. His speeches simply began to irritate Koschei. And with one blow, he broke the man's leg.
"He wouldn't have escaped you even with healthy limbs," Mikhail remarked, ignoring the frantic screams of the man in the worn uniform.
"His speeches annoyed me," Koschei explained. "I hope I have sufficiently demonstrated that I am not distinguished by patience regarding irritating promises?"
"Quite," Mikhail said. "So, are you done yet?"
"As long as it takes," Koschei barked, casting a predatory glance at the injured man. Seeing the wraith anticipating a meal, he stopped screaming. He just whimpered, curled up in a ball in the corner of the cell. "I am savoring his fear and panic, enjoying it."
"And my mother taught me not to play with my food," Mikhail said. "Apparently, yours had a different opinion on table manners."
Ignoring the man's (quite exquisite) joke, Koschei approached his food, raising his right hand to attach himself to his chest. The man shriveled up, and it was impossible to do it so easily. And without mental powers, the wraith could not suppress the victim's will to resist.
But he was experienced enough in feeding matters not to understand what was about to happen. Koschei leaned over the victim, performing the most terrifying actions of inevitable death. This was quite enough for the food to react.
The man threw his right hand forward, clenched into a fist. He hoped to hit the wraith directly in the jaw. He wouldn't be able to win anyway, it would only delay the inevitable. But at the same time, people who were worth something tried to fight to the end.
Their attempts were laughable, but they served as excellent entertainment.
Koschei caught the man's fist with his left hand, squeezed it so hard that the finger bones crunched. The prisoner screamed in pain as the wraith twisted his limb at the shoulder joint, forcing his body to arch to minimize the pain. The man's chest opened against his will.
And a pale-green hand with a feeding suction cup, bony growths on the fingers, and long nails dug into the man's scrawny chest.
The prisoner screamed as the suction cup dug into his chest. His cry of pain changed its intonation somewhat as the life-giving enzyme flowed into his body, preventing him from dying too quickly.
Koschei's vertical pupils dilated as he saw the man's eyes roll back from the euphoria that washed over him. He was now in an altered state of consciousness, unable to resist the wraith's biochemistry.
And in the next moment, Koschei pulled in everything he had given to the man. And everything that now belonged to him.
He felt his body fill with the man's strength and life, flowing through the wraith's organism. Koschei's body, already saturated with energy from the number of people and wraiths who had become food, barely noticed the energy of this frail human animal flowing through it.
The wraith had barely gotten into the taste when he felt the life-giving flow from the man to him dwindle. Looking at the victim, he saw only a shriveled body. A head crowned with gray hair; flabby, dried skin stretched over a skeleton practically devoid of muscle.
His fingers could easily have ripped the sternum from these remains and used it as a weapon. But it would not have helped — Mikhail continued to be protected by his personal energy shield.
Shaking his hand, Koschei threw the body aside, straightened up, and hissed at Mikhail.
"Satisfied with what you've seen?"
The fact that the Lantian had not left demonstrated what he had assumed. Mikhail wanted to see firsthand how the feeding process took place.
"Quite," the latter replied concisely, tossing something resembling two metal bracelets connected by a chain into the cell. One glance was enough for Koschei to understand that the metal used in these handcuffs was similar to that used in the hull of small Lantian ships.
These chains could not be broken by physical strength alone.
"What is this?" he asked.
"Put them on your wrists," Mikhail ordered. "It's time for a walk, my pale-faced friend. Work awaits you."
"Finally, we're going to revive Lantians?" Koschei asked, clicking the locks and voluntarily shackling his hands with chains. Another chain with bracelets fell to the floor. It was not much different from the previous one.
"And now fasten them on your legs, just above your feet," Mikhail ordered.
Koschei obeyed. Now he was shackled by hands and feet, but they were two different chains. If desired, this did not prevent him from using his hands or feet for attack.
"What else do I need to shackle?" Koschei asked irritably, seeing Mikhail take out another pair of handcuffs as he approached him.
"I'll do this myself," the Lantian grinned.
A couple of movements, two clicks, and the third handcuffs bound the chains of the previous two. At the same time, Mikhail checked the tightness of the handcuffs on his arms and legs. Not without a smile, he clicked the shackles on his arms two more notches, no longer allowing his hands to be removed from the restraints.
"Have you been told the parable of the cunning nut and the bolt with a special thread?" the Lantian asked, nodding towards the exit.
"No," the wraith grumbled irritably. "But I'm sure you'll enlighten me on this folklore now…"
"You're a Jedi too, however!" Mikhail exclaimed. "Koschei, you have so many hidden talents! You understand Lantian technology, you revive the dead, you make the living dead, and you even see the future! I'm impressed. But our journey will be short, so you'll hear the story of the nut and the bolt another time. But, on the other hand, I will show you how to intrigue a wraith."
"And how?" Koschei became interested at the moment they left the brig.
"I'll tell you tomorrow," Mikhail promised.
Despite the abundance of work that needed to be done, a short rest was essential for the entire repair team.
Chaya understood this better than anyone. Honestly, over the past two weeks dedicated to repairing the battleship, she had felt the effects of fatigue more than others. But, at least, she had managed to put the ship's main engines in order.
Consequently, even in this condition, the "Hippaphoralkus" could lift off from the surface and go into space. However, the fact that in space it would take a huge amount of time and effort to eliminate damage to the ship's hull, replace damaged circuits outside the ship, and so on and so forth, was the reason why the starship still rested in the hangar.
"You said that wraiths don't need windows on their ships," Kirik suddenly said. The former fugitive sat in the corner of the bridge, lazily poking at his porridge with a spoon.
"That's right," Chaya confirmed.
"Then why did the Ancients make bridges with such a huge panorama?" the man asked, pointing to the front of the compartment they were in.
The bridge of the "Hippaphoralkus."
"I agree," Jensen, who was busy consuming food in another part of the bridge, joined the question.
Chaya glanced at Norana Pyro, who had also been enlisted for work on the battleship. Tayla and a dozen of the most intelligent Athosians also stopped eating and looked at her. As did a couple of Taranian scientists. The smartest and most competent in dealing with the technologies of the Ancients. Chaya had conducted some interviews with the Taranian scientific group. And she had expelled almost ninety percent of them from the outpost, forbidding them to come closer than the established zone.
It would be better for them to engage in farming than to prove to her that combining positively and negatively charged ends of power supply buses is quite safe.
Are they all so interested? Most likely, yes.
For all the people she had selected for the team, without exception, the Ancients represented an object of admiration. To be honest, Sar was surprised by the precision and even slight religious admiration with which the Athosians approached their task. And they were just opening panels and changing crystals, transferring deformed and burnt-out parts to workshops where they were remelted into more useful property.
However, before she could clarify, a hoarse chuckle was heard from behind. The girl sitting in the captain's chair spun around and locked eyes with…
"Wraith!" Throwing aside the cup with the remnants of porridge, Kirik was already on his feet, holding a pistol forward. Jensen, Tayla, and the Athosians did the same. Although Chaya was sure that she had fixed the outpost's systems and it was completely sealed, and all unnecessary entrances and exits were blocked, it was better to be safe than sorry.
The pale-green sentient being with long hair braided into thick ropes looked at the humans with contempt. He probably thought it would have been worth attacking them when no one noticed him entering through the open bridge doors.
But instead, with complete indifference to what was happening, he opened his hands, and two massive black bags fell to the floor. The characteristic sound of clinking glass was heard.
Then a third bag also fell to the floor. The sound repeated. But this time, it became clear that something had indeed broken inside.
"When I open it, I'll knock out as many teeth from you as you've broken crystals," Mikhail promised, entering behind him. The man carried two bags in his hands, similar to those already seen. But he placed them on the floor carefully. "Alright, boys and girls, calm down, exhale, and lower your weapons. Koschei is not here to kill you."
"Are you sure?" the wraith asked, not taking his eyes off Chaya.
The proculucian, frozen, couldn't take her eyes off the commander, clenching her fists so hard that her knuckles turned white.
"Koschei, have you gotten over yourself?" Mikhail asked, approaching the wraith. "Then you clearly won't gain my trust."
"You shouldn't trust a wraith," Tayla said. At her signal, the Athosians lowered their weapons. But they didn't take their suspicious glances off the wraith. "Mikhail, why is he here?"
"For the same reason I kept him alive," the young man explained. "He will help us solve problems."
"And how?" Jensen inquired.
"It's already good that he's in chains," Kirik said.
Chaya blinked and looked closer. Indeed, the wraith had metal bracelets on his hands and feet, connected by a simple system of strong chains.
"He understands Ancient technology," Mikhail explained. "On Lantea-2, he tried to use an activated 'jumper'. So he knows a thing or two."
"About how to suck the life out of people," Tayla said. "Wraiths don't use Ancient technology."
"Because you are incapable of understanding it due to your limitations, human female," he scoffed, the one Mikhail called Koschei. "I am almost eleven thousand years old. I have drunk the life from the Ancients, I have studied their ships and technologies. And I, unlike your frightened Ancient, can give an answer about the reasons why we place command sections inside the ship. And why we don't need viewports."
"Well, enlighten us," Mikhail asked, moving the wraith's bags aside and beginning to examine their contents. "Because you've already put at least five teeth in your jaws in doubt."
"It's not my fault that you brought defective crystals," the wraith said irritably. "Ancient crystals have high density, and they can't be broken by falling from such a height."
"Don't get distracted," Jensen advised him, approaching the wraith. They were about the same height, so the Ermen looked Koschei straight in the eye. "You are cooperating with us. But give me just one reason to..."
"In many areas, wraith technology uses the same principles as the Ancients," Koschei ignored the man. "We studied their technologies as the most advanced. And where it was possible for our organic methods, we applied the Ancients' developments. Some hive ships even used partially mechanical compartments that were integrated into the overall structure of the ships. These are wreckage from Ancient starships. But what we couldn't solve for our technologies was energy generation. Organic reactors cannot produce as much power as the mechanical ones of the Ancients. We couldn't integrate the technology of ship shields, and all attempts led to the creation of an energy bubble that did not protect the starships at a sufficient level. And it absorbed energy on a massive scale. Because of this, we couldn't rely on the strength of ships with viewports. These are vulnerabilities that we couldn't afford. Just as we couldn't violate the laws of aerodynamics."
"So you chose organic hull structures as ship protection?" Mikhail clarified.
"Including this one," the wraith confirmed. "The Ancients could afford to build spacecraft of any shape and size—their shields reduced any physical resistance. The powerful shields of ships of this subtype allowed for a large number of viewports. Besides, humans feel uncomfortable in sealed ships, not having the opportunity to at least look at space and stars. And moreover, all the combat starships of the Ancients originated from research ships, which had many viewports."
"Informative," Mikhail said. "And what did you mean by subtypes of such ships?"
"The Ancients developed several versions of starships of this type," the wraith said. "We captured several of them at different times and were able to see that the Ancients changed the ships. From simple ones armed only with homing missiles, former research starships filled with various laboratories, to exclusively combat ships. The latter, in addition to missiles, also had energy turrets. Or force fields that blocked compartments that had undergone decompression. And much more. Not to mention more advanced hyperdrives. This ship. — the wraith looked around, — is very similar to the second generation of ancient battleships."
"And how did you determine that?" Mikhail asked, interested.
"The shape of the hull, the location of the hangar relative to the hull, and the bridge are very familiar," Koschei explained.
"He knows too much about all this," Kirik said. "What's the guarantee that, by helping us, he won't do something to put us in the hands of the wraiths?"
Koschei burst out laughing.
"Not bad, human, not bad," he said. "But I made a deal with Mikhail. For now, I'm satisfied with its terms. I'll help you with the ship's repair. At least with what I know about these systems."
"And he'll get information about the condition of our only combat ship," Chaya thought, stepping back from the wraith's sudden appearance. Yes, she knew about the prisoner. But she thought he would be used solely to revive the people stuck on the Aurora.
He must not be allowed near the main systems.
"I'll keep an eye on you," Jensen declared.
"As will I," Kirik added.
"My people won't take their eyes off him either," Teila assured.
"Well, and I," the wraith squinted, looking at the Athosian, "will keep an eye on you, girl."
"Why?" one of the Athosians blurted out.
"Because I have eyes," the wraith laughed, looking at Mikhail. "So what are we waiting for? Are we working, or, since we've decided to have a bite, will I be fed too?"
"When you're done, we'll talk about it," Mikhail promised. "Chaya, we've dug up the required amount of sand and created the crystals you asked for. We need to distribute them among the ship's systems..."
"Of course," Sar replied. "I'll take care of it..."
"It would be better if you and Koschei handled the repair of more important systems," Mikhail said. "Our repair is already not fast. So... All right," the man sighed, seeing that the others were not taking their eyes off the wraith. "Koschei, promise you won't attack anyone and won't try to eat them."
"It would be foolish for a predator to assure its prey of good intentions," the wraith grinned. "Keep your word, human, and then I'll leave them alive. If you deceive me..."
"Stop whining, Koschei," Mikhail asked. "Grab a bag and... Chaya, do we have problems with the hyperdrive?"
"I'll take care of that myself," the girl said. "You'd better go to the living quarters and fix the life support system there. We'll need cabins for long journeys."
"As you say," Mikhail agreed. "Koschei, grab one bag of crystals and let's go to work."
"Are these two going with us?" the wraith asked, seeing that both former fugitives were moving towards him.
"Of course," Mikhail confirmed. "Chaya, send us the malfunction schematic, we'll fix it as best we can..."
"Excuse me," Norana Piro broke the silence. "Is... Is that green one the wraith, right?"