The ceda raised a scaled eyebrow. “By the council’s decree, sir?”
“Indeed,” Kai-Ool said. “I contacted them immediately after we had this discussion. That was their answer.”
The ceda gave a slow nod. “Understood. And the three dozen squadrons of C-100 Phantoms docked in our flight bay? What did the council say about those?”
Kai-Ool grinned. “Officially, the council believes they need more testing. For the Alystierians’ own safety, you see.”
The ceda thinned his lips. “And unofficially?”
“You were right about one thing, Jahara. The chancellor’s forces have been advancing at quite the impressive pace of late, perhaps too impressive. I want the Aurans defeated, yes, but I want both sides to beat on each other for a while longer before that happens. Then I’ll consider giving Masterson the tools he needs for a killing stroke.” Kai-Ool folded his arms. “Tell Pralah Rezlan that the Alystierians are not to lose this battle. With that established, I’m not above letting them sweat for the victory, either.”
The ceda hesitated for a moment as if weighing another question. “At the risk of overstepping my bounds, sir…why continue this charade? If the Aurans are our true enemies, and the Kendaran mine our true objective, why do we need the Alystierians at all? Why not invade Auran space ourselves, wipe them out, and seize what we want? They’d be powerless to stop us.”
Kai-Ool shook his head. “My dear Jahara, how easily you dismiss your history. Lest we forget, the Aurans were supposedly powerless to stop us a hundred cycles ago, and yet it was our world that inevitably burned, not theirs. The Aurans are a primitive race—they were then, and they are now—but they’re also resourceful, resilient. Thus, for now, let us bide our time and let the imperials fight for us while we sit back and watch.”
“Watch for what, sir?”
“Anything and everything. A wise man told me once, ‘Always recognize the grander picture.’ Those are wise words, Jahara, and they’ve served me far too well in the past to abandon them here. No. For now, let us be content to watch the Aurans, see how they respond when pressed with our technology, see how they defend themselves, how they adapt. Once Masterson has either broken their defenses or weakened them to a point of my satisfaction, then—and only then—will we go on the offensive.”
The ceda bowed again. “A brilliant strategy, sir, to be sure. And what of the Alystierians at that time? Will they have earned the right to be counted among our allies?”
“Please.” Kai-Ool’s expression wrenched with disgust. “Let me be very clear on this, Jahara. As long as there is breath in me, those mindless apes will never, ever be our allies. Not even one of them. They may go by a different name today, but in their bones, the people of Alystier are still Auran, and it was their general who left our people to rot on a poisonous homeworld. That is not a blood debt I intend to forgive, Jahara—not today, tomorrow, or even when the planet Aura itself stands in ash.” The Kurgorian pralah rose to his feet, his long, midnight-black cloak brushing the backs of his ankles. “Have no illusions: I mean to kill every one of these people before our time here is done. Auran, Alystierian, it makes no difference. I swore an oath to that end long ago. For now, however, we will extend the hand of friendship to Alystier because it suits our purposes.”
The ceda gave a slow nod of understanding. “All things being equal, I look forward to the day when it no longer does.”
“Patience, my friend. Such a day will come.” Kai-Ool’s golden eyes flicked to the stars beyond the CIC’s forward viewport. “History is a peculiar thing, Jahara. It’s like a scorpion—once you turn your back on it, it will sting you. It’s only a matter of time.”
The ceda eyed his commander. “Level twenty-six.”
Kai-Ool flashed a razor smile. “You always were a perceptive one, Jahara. You’ll make a fine pralah someday.”
* * * * *
Chapter 14: Fireworks
ASC First Lieutenant Ashlyn Suh peered out through the crow’s-nest window at the desolate brown wasteland before her and frowned. Just another glorious day in the sweatbox. Excuse me, everyone, while I temper my excitement.
Suh despised being stationed out this far. Nothing ever happened save for researcher-babysitting duty in the badlands or the occasional supply run to Telken Station a sector over. Boredom didn’t begin to describe this assignment. Did that mean Suh longed for combat? No, of course not. But something, anything, would’ve been preferable to the monotony she faced here each day—a wayward ship straying off course, maybe, or a distress call from one of the native villages.
Oh, that’s right. Suh huffed to no one. There are no natives on this godforsaken skillet. Just sand, rock, heat, and more sand.
Suh stared at her reflection in the terminal glass. Can’t hide those gray hairs forever, girl. She was too far in her career for this and had achieved too much. She deserved better.
A lone blip pinged from the deep-space buoy display at Suh’s fingers. She glanced down and saw one blip become two, then three, then four. Then the entire panel lit up, like fireworks over Retaun on Remembrance Day.
Oh, dear god. Suh’s hands rocketed to her mouth. What do I do? What do I do? What do I do? She slapped her station’s comm button. “Thawnose Operations to Sergeant Major Noll. Sir, you’re needed in the crow’s nest right now!”
* * * * *
Part Two
Chapter 15: Refuge
Fresh out of a shower and into clean clothes, Danny collapsed into his bunk on Overlook and blew out a happy sigh. That may well have been the best damn hour I’ve had in months. It always felt good to get clean after spending time in the suit. Between the sweat, grime, and excess juice chemicals that tended to saturate his skin during usage, there was never any shortage of body-odor funk afterward, climate system or not. Factor in the day’s twelve-hour marathon of eight different training sessions, and Danny could hardly remember a time when he’d looked so forward to a little soap and water.
The door alarm to his quarters chimed.
You have got to be kidding me. Danny covered his face with a pillow and hoped whoever it was would go away.
Another chime.
“Yeah, yeah, just a minute.” Danny got to his feet and shuffled across the cold metal floor to the entrance. “Lee, I swear if that’s you I—”
The door slid open to reveal Auran President Rick Wylon in the hall outside.
Danny’s eyes went wide.
“Sergeant Tucker.” Wylon was casually dressed in slacks and his old ASC fighter-jock jacket.
Danny studied the man with a mixture of surprise and worry and was struck by Wylon’s appearance. The president’s eyes, once bright blue and so full of promise, now carried the weight of a world not to mention having circles that could’ve passed for bruises. His face looked equally haggard as did his hair, which had gone from a youthful walnut brown to almost full silver. He looked old.
“This a bad time?” Wylon asked.
Danny blinked, clueless about how to respond. The soldier in him wanted to salute while the smuggler in him wanted to bolt. Then there was the would-have-been son-in-law…he just wanted to crawl into a hole and hide.
“Danny?” Wylon repeated. “You with me?”
Danny cleared his throat. “Uh, yes sir, Mr. President.”
“Mind if I join you for a chat?”
“A what?”
“Can we talk?” Wylon pointed to the room inside. “Alone.”
“Oh, uh.” Danny stepped aside. “Yeah, sure. Come on in.”
Wylon entered Danny’s quarters and surveyed the wall-to-wall trash. “Nice to see you’ve been taking care of yourself.”
“Yeah, well.” Danny fumbled for something else to say. “I manage well enough, I guess. You?”
“About the same.”
Neither man said anything for an awkward moment.
“Here, let me, um…” Danny stepped to the nearest chair and brushed it to some semblance of clean. He offered it to the pr
esident.
Wylon nodded his gratitude and took it.
“Can I get you something?” Danny asked. “A drink, something to eat?”
“No, thank you. I’m fine.” Wylon craned his neck for a glance past Danny’s shoulder. “I see you’ve been keeping busy.”
Danny winced. You forgot to close the door to your Masterson Room, dumbass. “Yes, sir. A little bit.”
“How’s that working out for you?”
“It comes and goes,” Danny said. “Some days, I catch a lead and get to do some damage. Others, not so much.”
Wylon reclined in his seat. “Yes, I’ve heard about your exploits—the infamous Rogue, a do-gooding centurion as it were. Part of me wondered if that was you. You know, Danny, you could’ve come to us for help. You didn’t have to run off on your own.”
Danny’s stomach sank. “Maybe, but you kinda had your hands full at the time what with the pasting the Kurgorians gave you at Kyma and all. I didn’t want to pile on.”
Wylon cocked his head, blue eyes narrowing. “How wonderfully…considerate of you.”
Danny looked away.
“You are right, though, about the Kurgorians,” Wylon went on. “Their subsequent alliance with Alystier in the days since Kyma has changed things. Dr. Reiser and his team have worked around the clock to augment our defenses, but so far with only mixed success.”
“So I’ve heard.” Danny frowned. “Here’s hoping he, Katie, and Doc can glean something from Mr. Black to advance the cause.”
“‘Here’s hoping’ is right. Let’s just pray it happens sooner rather than later. The empire is pushing deeper into our territory every day, and while we’re not to the brink yet, we could be if the right forces come into play.”
Danny inspected a wrapper on the tabletop beside him. “For what it’s worth, not everyone in the empire is thrilled with Masterson’s new policies, especially in parliament.”
“Yes, Lucius and I are aware,” Wylon said.
“He’s a good man, sir.” Danny sat up. “The ex-chancellor. So is Captain Briggs, for that matter. They covered my ass on the Axius. There’s no reason to treat them like criminals.”
Wylon raised a finger. “Those of us who know them understand that. To those on the outside, however, Lucius Zier is still the man who led Alystier to war with our people. It’s the same with Captain Briggs. He was last seen as Masterson’s XO, so you can imagine how he’d be received if let out into the open. We keep them confined for their own safety. Perhaps one day that’ll change, but for now, it’s just the reality of the situation.”
Grudgingly, Danny took the man’s point. “You said you and Zier have been keeping tabs on the chatter out of Eurial. Can I ask what you’re hearing?”
“Pretty much the same as you—that not everyone in parliament is as enthused with the new chancellor as the media lets on. And who can blame them? He’s essentially usurped their ability to govern.”
Danny snorted. “Fat lot of good it did them when they had it. All I ever saw out of them was squabbling and greed.”
“Yes, well.” Wylon’s look flattened. “That tends to happen when politicians are allowed to dig in their heels for five, six, and seven terms at a time. They become targets for the influence of those who would manipulate the system for personal gain. Throw in the kinds of perks, monetary and otherwise, that such parties offer, and corruption is inevitable with an apparatus as sprawling as parliament. Masterson knew that, and he played it perfectly to have Zier ousted from office. Then, once he’d seized the chancellery, he turned the spotlight on his own ministers and destroyed their credibility with the Alystierian people.”
Danny slumped down in his chair. “Whatever. I still say they had it coming.”
“Perhaps. Nevertheless, there are still those in parliament who have their people’s best interests at heart. People like Roan Tully of Ledington Province. He’s a decent man with noble intentions. To the public at large, however, he’s just another crook standing in the way of their champion’s progress.”
“Their champion’s progress.” Danny scoffed and kicked an empty cup across the floor. “Honestly, how stupid are these people? Masterson is working with the damn Beyonders. That’s got to account for something.”
“Sure, it should.” Wylon crossed his legs. “But no one on Alystier knows that, not for certain at least. Masterson controls the press, which means he controls the narrative. The only people who know the Kurgorians’ true identity are Masterson, Briggs, and the Kamuir’s former XO—a man named Langella—and Masterson killed him to protect the lie. Without proof, there’s no story, and without a story there’s no public awareness. There’s only Masterson’s fabricated truth, spread far and wide by his friends at the Eurial Sun.” Wylon sighed. “Like I said, the chancellor has played this perfectly.”
Just then, something dawned on Danny. “How’d he even know where to find them?”
Wylon glanced up. “Pardon?”
“Masterson. Forget how he conned these guys into joining his cause. How’d he know where to find them to begin with?” Danny sat up. “Think about it. The Beyonders had been gone for—what, a hundred and ten, a hundred and twenty years? Then all of a sudden, whoosh! Here they are, live and in living color and ready to make a deal. How is that not epically fishy to anyone but me?”
Wylon stared at the ceiling. “It has been a subject of discussion. Briggs says that Masterson was operating off some sort of intel when their shuttle touched down on Kurgoria. Where the chancellor acquired it, though, Briggs has no idea.”
“Theories?” Danny asked.
“None to speak of. To this day, even we don’t know Kurgoria’s exact location. The only person who did was Tomys Rayner, and we can only speculate on that.”
The name rang a bell, but Danny couldn’t place it. “Who?”
“Tomys Rayner,” Wylon said. “He was a scientist during the first Beyonder War. He’s also widely credited as the grandfather of modern-day Auran tech. Everything we have now—ships, defenses, even everyday things like our global info-net—it’s all derived from his early work.”
Intrigued, Danny leaned forward as Wylon continued.
“During the latter half of the war, Rayner was the one who cracked the enemy’s technical code, thereby allowing our people their first real look into the Beyonders’ defenses. Rayner and his team then used that knowledge to develop weapons and, in time, to commandeer a Beyonder shuttle for Auran use.”
The Auran president looked away as the dots connected in Danny’s mind. He’d heard talk of this man before, six years ago during the Renegades’ maiden voyage to Aura. Jon Reiser and Sergeant Major Noll had spoken of those events at dinner one night, each of them wearing the same look of shame that Wylon wore now.
“The kill mission,” Danny concluded. “That’s what Rayner used the shuttle for: to fly to Kurgoria and nuke it with that doomsday weapon of yours.”
Wylon gave a somber nod. “That was the goal, yes. We can only guess, however, that Rayner achieved his mission. Following his launch, he was never heard from again—nor for that matter were the Beyonders. Several days after Rayner left, they packed up their ships and retreated from our space, never to be heard from again.”
“Until Masterson,” Danny added.
“Yes.” Wylon laced his fingers. “Until Masterson.”
Danny muttered a curse as his blood began to rise again. “Let the chancellor revel in his successes while he can. Once my business is up here, I’ll have some words on that. Then we’ll see where things stand with Alystier’s so-called champion.”
“Planning to go AWOL again, are we?”
Danny snapped alert.
“Relax.” Wylon raised a palm. “That’s all still in the process of being worked out. For now, just stay here on Overlook, and you’ll be fine.”
Danny felt his nerves loosen, though only slightly.
Wylon paused as if weighing whether or not to say something. “You do realize, Danny, that no
thing that happened last year was your fault, right? None of it.”
Danny cringed and looked away. He knew exactly where Wylon’s head was at, and he wanted no part of it. He was too angry for that. “I’m so close, sir. I swear to you, that son of a bitch will pay for what he did to her. On my life, he will.”
“I don’t want it on your life,” Wylon snapped. He withdrew, catching himself, and exhaled through his nostrils. “Damn it, Danny, don’t you think I want Masterson dead as much as you do? Believe me when I say, son, that no parent should ever in their darkest of nightmares have to witness what I…” He broke off, eyes glistening. “But as much as that hurt, as much as it cut me to the core to see such a horrific act committed against my daughter, don’t think for an instant that it didn’t hurt me to lose you, too.”
Danny’s gaze plummeted, his mind working inexorably back to that one place that, to this day, still gutted him inside. “You don’t understand, sir. What happened to Madisyn, the crew of the Larrin? It was my fault, all of it. Masterson told me so himself.”
Wylon started to speak, but Danny kept on. “It happened when he had us in custody on Alystier. Masterson told me that I was the target when he sent his people after the Larrin. He wanted to use me to get Lee and the others for what we did to his kid on Myrick 4. Madisyn was just an innocent bystander, in the wrong place at the wrong time. Had she not…” He shuddered. “Had she not been there with me, odds are good your daughter would still be with you today.”
Danny got up from his chair and turned away, eyes welling. This was precisely why he hadn’t wanted to come back, why he’d avoided Aura like the plague since leaving it behind after Coralin 3. He just couldn’t do this.
Danny jumped when Wylon’s hand caught his shoulder.
“I know about the Larrin. Briggs told me. Listen to me, Danny, and listen well. You cannot put that on yourself no matter how badly you want to. You and Madisyn were leaving on that ship to take a vacation. It could’ve just as easily been me with her.”
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