She was proud of him, beaming as she wove all but the last scrap of her strength into the net. She tied it off and passed it to Dante. He frowned at her. She’d gone transparent, and no doubt that worried him, but she had to see this through.
“I’ll rest when I see it done,” she said. “Do it.”
“As you wish,” he said.
One moment he was beside her. The next, he was in front of the abstract forms that represented the enemy ships. He made a sweeping motion across his body and an electric blue line appeared in the air. The line became two, separating like the eyelids on an opening eye. Julia could see the material world on the other side of the portal.
Dante threw the net. It went through the hole in the world and opened like a flower right in front of the ships. They had no chance to evade. The lead ship collided with the net as the hole began to close. Then Julia’s eyes shut of their own accord, and she faded.
***
“What was that?” McNuggen shouted.
“Some kind of power surge from behind us,” Tanaka said.
“Source?”
“Unknown. But the enemy ships are slowing down. Either I’m seeing things, or they just got caught in a…net?” Tanaka sounded awed. “One of the enemy ships just experienced a power surge. Its drive is dead.”
Well, that was unexpected. Barbara would have a few Mystics to thank later. They’d given her the space she needed to pull off this maneuver. A few knots of tension untied themselves, and she allowed herself a small smile.
She loved this feeling. She craved it, this sense of winning after a long fight, whether it be a duel of words or combat. She savored becoming certain of victory right as her opponent realized defeat was inevitable. She pitied them, of course. Her cup overflowed with empathy for their loss, but in no way did it diminish the high of victory.
Their trajectory carried them into orbit and put them near the wormhole, hiding Doomslayer in the star’s magnetic field. They’d done it. They were hidden, they could wait out the enemy and, soon, they’d be on their way to Ian’s World.
***
Jack whooped when Dante sent the net through the portal, then vanished from the Astral Plane. Making a hole like that would have drained him completely, just as Julia’s weaving had wiped her out. Jack had given as much as he could while leaving just enough in reserve for his distraction maneuver. He’d succeeded mightily, and now that they’d completed their mission, all they had left was a little mopping up.
The scattered Mystics noticed him. Some ignored Coraolis’s assault to come after him. Jack had used up too much in the illusion, so he retreated, slicing through the ether as a peregrine falcon swoops through the sky.
They’d done it. They were almost free. Coraolis waved to him, signaling he was done, and Jack snapped a salute in his direction. He had enough left to keep the Mystics away from Doomslayer.
Then he saw the other ship. Larger than the others but no less deadly-looking, it swept around the curvature of the star, using its superior speed to slingshot around and catch them flat-footed. Doomslayer still moved forward at top speed, running right into the enemy ship’s arms without knowing. He had to warn them. Jack gave up the chase and dropped into his body.
Julia was curled up on her side, her hands pressed to her temple. He threw himself forward, ignoring the protest of legs that had gone asleep, and grabbed her communicator. He had to warn McNuggen.
The deck shuddered beneath him, and he fell flat on his face. The ship rocked again. The steady hum of its power died, and the lights went out.
***
Barbara McNuggen stood at parade rest on the bridge. The red emergency lights painted everyone bloody, even though no one had been hurt. No, the only one hurt was her, with the severe blow she’d taken to her pride.
She hadn’t been thinking. She’d been so sure of winning that she hadn’t seen the sucker punch coming from in front of them.
Elliott McKinley filled up the whole of the view screen. If he’d been gloating, her loss might have been easier to take. Instead, he was calm and professional. She couldn’t say respectful, because he’d already made it clear he saw her as a traitor, and even clever tactics wouldn’t change his mind.
She regretted that. He’d proven himself an intelligent commander, able to anticipate her plan and find a way to counter. She admired that. Of course, she’d have plenty of time to do that from a prison cell.
“Captain Barbara McNuggen, on behalf of the Earth Fleet and the power vested in me, I hereby strip you of your rank and place you under arrest. Submit and prepare for boarding, and we won’t treat your subordinates harshly.”
“Captain?” Tanaka asked quietly.
She lowered her head. She’d always said that one of the most important things in life was to know when you were beaten. She’d been fond of saying it to opponents over chess or sparring partners. She’d never wanted to have it apply to herself, but for the sake of her crew, she didn’t have much in the way of choices.
“I no longer outrank you, Lieutenant Tanaka. I advise you to follow the captain’s orders, as acting captain.”
Tanaka stared at her silently as Barbara removed her rank insignia and put it on her armrest. She stood and moved to the side, leaving space for her former second-in-command.
Tanaka watched her for three full breaths before he nodded.
“I don’t see that we have a choice. Welcome aboard, Captain McKinley. Doomslayer is yours,” he said.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Coraolis woke up alone in his cell, a square room no more than six feet on a side. The only furniture was his cot. He was wearing dull gray clothing reminiscent of flannel pajamas and a heavy metal cuff around his left ankle. LED lights glowed amber on the outside curve of the cuff above a digital readout.
His eyelids were impossibly heavy. He wanted to close them again and drowse, but there was something at the edge of his consciousness that pulled at him.
Someone was on the other side of the door, talking in words too muffled to understand. Coraolis pushed himself into a sitting position and waited, listening to the sound of the voices. He shook his head, trying to shake off its fog, but his thoughts were no clearer by the time the door opened.
Two soldiers with assault weapons walked in, followed by a young man with a tray. Coraolis watched him put the tray down in front of the mattress, then grab Coraolis’s leg so he could look at the cuff. His nametag labeled him as Ensign Curie.
“We’re late,” Curie muttered. “Hurry up and eat, prisoner.”
“I’m in prison?” His head cleared a little more, and he attempted adding up the variables. The armed guards, the meal on a tray, being called prisoner; the sum of those things spelled prison. As soon as the words were out, though, he knew he was wrong.
His thoughts were far too unwieldy, as if they had to swim through jelly to reach the surface of his mind. Maybe he’d burned himself out by relying too much on the dragon’s power. That seemed plausible. He reached out for the dragon, but there was a barrier that kept him from connecting. He was sure the dragon was there, out of reach. He wished he knew how to breach that wall.
Curie put a dense, sweet-smelling slab in his hand. It resembled gelatin, but it was too dense to jiggle properly.
“You’re on E.F.S. Nessie. You are on your way to face trial. Just eat so I can go.”
Coraolis looked at the foodstuff doubtfully. He had no appetite, and he wasn’t interested in eating. “Can I see Julia? Or any of the others?”
“Eventually, but only if you eat your dinner. Hurry up.” There was a little strain in Curie’s voice. He appeared stressed Coraolis hadn’t eaten yet.
He wanted to pursue that thought to where it led. He could sense there were enough pieces to string together, though they were too far away to grasp. Maybe later, after these three had left him alone to think.
“Fine then,” he said.
He ate the bar quickly, then chased it with the cup of water. Curie watched, lean
ing in too close for Coraolis’ comfort. He pulled back but didn’t say anything. He wasn’t the one with the guns.
“How about now? I think my calendar is…”
He frowned. He’d been saying something, but now it was gone. It was something about his friends, maybe? The thought dangled just out of reach, like trying to grasp the thread of a dream just after waking up. In fact, this all was starting to feel like a dream.
“What was I saying?” he asked.
Curie looked at the cuff. The lights were green. Curie smiled, and Coraolis put the pieces together with some effort.
“You drugged me,” he accused the ensign, then looked up at the guards. “Hey. He’s…you don’t care, do you?”
“Captain’s orders. You four are to stay under sedation until we can get you back to Earth.” Ensign Curie picked up the tray. The guards backed out one at a time, keeping their weapons trained on Coraolis until they could put a closed door between them.
Coraolis laid back on his mattress. He’d just stay there until the room stopped spinning and try to dissect that conversation. You four. That meant Julia, Dante, and Jack, plus him. That meant they were lively enough to need sedation. They were on their way to the same place.
That was something, at least. He tried to hold onto the realization as he dozed in a drug-induced haze. It couldn’t be long before they got to Earth and he could see them for himself.
***
The interrogation chamber was nothing like the stark rooms in Dante’s favorite police dramas. The only decorations were the plush blue carpet and cream-colored wallpaper. A heavy wooden table dominated the room, with two heavy carved chairs facing each other across the surface. If he were to guess, he’d say that the room had been stripped bare for the purpose of this interrogation.
He sat quietly in his chair as ordered, his cuffed hands in his lap. His head was surprisingly clear. They’d stopped forcing drugged food on him when they reached Earth’s orbit, and he’d come back to himself without so much as a hangover. Instead of the drugs, he was wearing a collar that cut him off from his Mystic abilities.
He understood what the device did as soon as they turned it on. It generated an electric field that kept him in his own body. If he tried to travel to the Astral Plane, his spirit would bounce off the field and land back home, a little singed for its efforts. He couldn’t even sense his dragon properly. For the first time in a long time, he was alone with only his thoughts for company.
Once, he’d fought to have this silence; now, it felt lonely. He’d always been a solitary person. He had friends, but none were close enough to truly know his mind. He’d never leaned on anyone. He’d been fine on his own. Yet, in the last year, he’d gotten used to having a constant companion as well as friends he could trust with everything.
He missed them. He hoped they were all right.
A pair of Mystics in full regalia entered. They had fine robes, medals, gray hair, and stately beards—all the trappings of senior Mystics. He recognized the one in the lead and smiled. Andrus gave him a sour look in response. The other was taller, leaner, and only vaguely familiar. He stood by the door while Andrus claimed the empty chair.
“We meet again,” Dante said.
Andrus raised a gray eyebrow that resembled nothing more than a wooly caterpillar. Dante was no mind reader, but he observed no humor in Andrus’s expression. He decided to keep his mouth shut and his hands where they could be seen.
“You must think this is funny,” Andrus said.
“Not at all,” Dante said.
“Really? Then how is it that you betrayed us not once, but twice?” Andrus said. “It’s a shame. You had so much promise. If only we had perceived then how you are loyal to none but yourself. Traitor.”
“I wasn’t given a choice the first time around. Once I was free, I helped you.”
“Yes, after you assaulted me and Mystic First Class Coraolis. That is, according to the timeline you provided,” Andrus clarified. “That was your testimony under oath, if I recall correctly.”
“I thought I could fix everything and you’d just make it worse. I stand by my premise, too, by the way. You did make it worse.”
“The events on Cavey aren’t up for debate,” Andrus said with a glowering stare. “They are simply a record of your first betrayal of the Mystic Council and the people of Earth. Your story of being coerced has less credibility now, I hope you realize that.”
Dante observed the other Mystic wasn’t enjoying the verbal jousting. This wasn’t a power trip or a chance for revenge. He seemed angry, all right, but it wasn’t personal.
Dante started to feel worried. “I think I do,” he said.
“I certainly hope so. I’ve got some questions for you. For your own sake, answer them honestly and completely. The Mystic Council has the right to render judgment, but if you don’t cooperate, you will be turned over to Earth Fleet for trial instead.” Andrus pulled out a datapad and set it on the table. “You may think that is preferable. I assure you, it is not.”
“Got it,” Dante replied. “Fire away.”
“How long were you planning the betrayal of humanity in favor of the denizens of the Astral Plane?” Andrus looked like he didn’t care about the answer. The question defined his pre-conceived conclusion.
“I didn’t betray humanity.” There was no answer that Dante could give.
Andrus made a note. “You disobeyed orders, stole three Earth Fleet vessels, and left a star system under the shadow of our enemies. Your actions cost Earth billions of dollars and robbed your countrymen of needed resources. Yet, you say you didn’t betray us?”
“We were ordered to do something unethical. As a member of the Secret Council, I was within my rights to call off the mission,” Dante said. “We did what we had to do to prevent a great crime.”
“I see. You disobeyed the orders of Earth Fleet, which was given authority over all Mystics for the duration of the mission. You assaulted E.F. personnel and stole valuable property because you believe it was the right thing to do?”
“I don’t believe it. I know it was the right thing to do.”
“Noted.” Andrus scrolled through his datapad. “Now then, let’s talk about the weapon.”
***
“I don’t know anything about a weapon,” Julia replied.
Andrus scowled. The shadows under his eyes darkened, and he looked ready to throw her in prison to be done with her. She sympathized. Her mind was clear, but she felt as if she could sleep another week.
“Your people were building a device in the orbit of GS-271-Beta,” he said.
“Geneva,” she said.
“Excuse me?”
“We named the planet Geneva,” she said helpfully. It did seem easier to use the planet’s name than that string of letters and numbers. “It seemed appropriate.”
“Did it?” Andrus typed a note, smirking the whole time. “Tell me about the device.”
“I’m not sure how much I can say. I wasn’t part of building it,” Julia said.
“What is its purpose?” he snapped.
Andrus was angry. That meant the others had refused to answer that question. Good. If the authorities knew what it was for, they’d find a way to subvert it, or they’d fling it into to the nearest star. Her people had put far too much work and time into the satellite to let that happen. She certainly wouldn’t be a part of misusing it.
“I’ve found that meditation does wonders for managing stress,” she said.
She knew that wasn’t helpful, but maybe if she made him angry enough, he’d go away. She wanted time alone to investigate this thing they’d put around her neck. It interfered with her abilities and her implants. Her left eye was useless without the implants to power it, leaving her off balance.
“How pleasant for you,” he said. It was obvious he didn’t mean it.
She shrugged.
“Let me get this straight. You committed treason for the sake of humanity’s predators, and you did it fo
r our own good. You stole from us, lied to us, and now you think you’ll get out of this by pushing my buttons?”
“No, sir.” She kept the emotion from her voice. “Not at all.”
“No to what?” he asked.
“Dragons don’t prey on humanity,” she said. “You’ve got it all backward.”
She knew she was truly in trouble when Andrus glared at her as if she’d turned into a dung beetle before his very eyes. He stood with shaky dignity and walked out of the room, his companion close behind.
“If she thinks she can plead insanity…” was the last thing she heard before the door shut behind them.
***
Jack stood, hands clasped behind his back, in unconscious imitation of Julia. Every eye in the room was on him, from the judges’ tribunal sitting above, to the Secret Council watching from behind. He stood in the only well-lit area. He supposed that was an intimidation tactic.
He’d felt their scrutiny from the moment he was marched in. There were gasps at his inhuman appearance. He knew how he looked; he’d built a strong connection with his dragon, and it showed in his face. Maybe they’d seen his picture, but there was a mile of difference between seeing an image of a dragon-man and seeing him in person.
He tried to make it better by looking serene and remaining quiet until the proceedings began. He practiced smiling earlier, but his smile was just too reptilian. Showing his teeth made him look like a predator.
His best bet was to keep his mouth shut and stand still, at least until the judges arrived. In the meantime, he tried to project calm. There was no need to accept a loss before it happened. They still had a chance to defend themselves.
After what felt like hours, the five judges filed into the room. Jack knew them on sight. They were high ranking Mystics, Administrators who had been pulled from other areas to sit in judgement. None of them looked happy about it, either.
Administrator Yul claimed the center seat and rapped his gavel on the desk, calling for silence. A hush fell over the courtroom, and he turned his attention on Jack.
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