The Xarcarik Chronicles: Cralen

Chapter 1

This is an 18+ book from the beginning. You've been warned :)

Birdsong and the rustling of leaves in harmony with soft classical music soothed Kinzie's frayed nerves as she sank lower in the hydrotherapy tub. Living on a large hunk of rock hurtling through space had very few perks, but she made sure to cut out her own little slice of paradise wherever she went. The Federation of Allied Planets assigned her and her team to this post ten long rotations ago, and in that time she'd been able to create her retreat in the small confines of her living quarters. All it took was some soundproof paneling, a great audio system, and a few of the extended-burn flares standard to every mining base.

She sunk lower, blowing bubbles in the warm water lapping around her chin. With her eyes closed, she could imagine herself on M4-U1, one of the most exquisite and expensive pleasure planets she would never be able to afford to visit.

The music grew to a crescendo, cymbals crashing and drums booming, reminding her of a thunderstorm. At the height of the cacophony, as one loud bang resounded through the small room, the floor shook, causing the flares to waver and cast odd shadows across the walls.

Kinzie sat straight in the tub, rivulets of soap and water streaming from the small hairs at the back of her neck as she looked around. "Huh," she spoke to herself, shaking her head. "I'm imagining things. I've been on this hunk of nothing for far too long."

She leaned back into the tub, resuming her position in the warm swirling waters and sighed, rubbing her forehead. Yes, this moon, orbiting a gas giant planet, should contain rich deposits of kryperium ore, but they found little more than dust amongst its craters and even deeper into the crust. The Federation was growing antsy, needing the discovery of another mine to fuel their great ship factories and it fell to her, the head Geological Researcher on their team, to explain to them it just wasn't going to happen. Well, the locations they tested couldn't all be winners. Explain that to a group of politicians and Generals.

Swirling her fingers through the water, she held them in front of her eyes and studied the prune lines running over the pads. "I guess it's time to get out," she mumbled and retrieved her glass of meriberk wine. Toasting her reflection in the mirror over the sink, she grinned and said, "To you. May this be the last rotation we're stuck in this godforsaken place." Kinzie laughed, shaking her head, and threw back the contents in one long swig. She put the glass aside and jumped from the tub, hitting the water release on the side, and grabbed a towel.

After a brisk rubdown, she secured the towel under her armpits, and opened the door into her bedroom, receiving the full blast of the emergency alarms in her unsuspecting ears. Kinzie gasped and ran to her dresser, throwing it open to find clothes.

How long had the alarms been going off for? Was that the shake she felt, the atmospheric generators which made a safe and habitable bubble for the humans to live in, blowing?

"Shit, shit, shit," she kept repeating over and over again, her towel dropping around her ankles, forgotten in her haste to find clothes. No one ever knew how long the backup generators would last. She needed to get to the shipping dock and onto one of the escape cruisers before the impossible cold descended upon her.

Kinzie turned with her hands full and froze. Her heart stopped. The generators didn't fail; they were destroyed. By the creature standing in front of her and its kind. Screaming, she turned, dropping what she held, and ran for the bathroom door. She would bar herself inside and die from the atmosphere on the planet. Anything was preferable to the six-armed bug-eyed monster standing in her doorway staring at her.

The Xarcarik.

A race of highly advanced killers who took no issue with wiping out entire planets of innocent people. They crossed the galaxy like locust, taking what they wanted, destroying helpless colonies, and causing no end of trouble for the Federation.