“You may ask anything you wish, master, of course. He threatened me.”
“Threatened you?”
“Yes. He said he would hunt me down if I gave the mwadim the microdrive with my research.”
“No one likes their secrets used against them,” So-Elku said. “Best never to keep any.”
“As you’ve said.” Awen yawned, excused herself, and covered her mouth with her sleeve. Am I really this tired, or is there something in the air? Her body yearned for a bed. Any bed. “Master So-Elku, is there anything further you need from me? I don’t mean to be rude, but I would like to get checked out, and then I just want to sleep for a while. May we reconvene tomorrow? Perhaps even later today?”
“Of course, my child.” He turned, took her other arm, and began walking with her back toward the entrance.
“Thank you, master,” Awen said, hoping she didn’t sound too enthusiastic about the reprieve.
“Awen, I nearly forgot.” So-Elku paused to face her in the middle of the hall. “Would you mind telling me what happened to the stardrive?”
Awen looked at him, curious. “The stardrive?” She had nearly forgotten herself. Of course! How could I have been so inept? But the fatigue was dulling her senses, and she could hardly blame herself because of how sleepy she felt.
“Yes, the stardrive from Oorajee,” So-Elku clarified. “Where is it?”
Awen was about to reach into the satchel when something odd occurred to her. “I never mentioned any stardrive, master.” She looked into his eyes and noticed the smallest tic in the corner of his mouth.
“Of course, you didn’t, child. We saw the mwadim hand it to you.”
“Ah, forgive me, master.” She reached down to the satchel, opened the flap, and removed the cylinder. So-Elku’s eyes darted to the device as Awen offered it to him.
“We both know it’s no good to me,” he said, palms raised.
Despite his words, Awen felt that he desperately wanted to take it. But it was hard to think, and she yawned a second time. “Should I open it now or wait for the others?”
“You may open it now,” he replied.
“Very well.” Awen closed her hand around the cylinder and prepared to press the activation button. It contained a small needle that would extract a droplet of blood from under her skin. The device would become inert if it determined a mismatch between her brainwaves and its record of encoding, so she let her thoughts drift back to Oorajee, to Oosafar, and then to the mwadim’s palace.
Awen winced as the memory of the explosion sent her sprawling into the mwadim. Her ears rang, and she tasted blood in her mouth. Fire lit up the room like the inside of the sun. She saw the mwadim’s face, or what was left of it, and felt the prick in her hand. Then Awen placed her thumb on the stardrive’s button, and—
Something was wrong. Not wrong with her memories, but wrong with this moment, here with So-Elku.
“What is it, my child?” the master said.
“I’m… I’m having trouble remembering.” Awen opened her eyes and saw a trail of sweat on So-Elku’s temple.
“Keep going,” he replied. “You’ll find it. I know it’s difficult.”
Awen closed her eyes again as she fought against the mounting fatigue. It was impairing her ability to think. Suddenly, she realized her mind wasn’t drawing her attention to the events in the mwadim’s palace but to something far more recent. Think, Awen. Think!
She remembered what the master had said—that it was “hard to make everything out in the holo-feed.”
No, that wasn’t it. Something else. Why is it so hard to think? She was getting tired of feeling like this. “I feel strange,” she said, placing a hand to her head.
“You’re just tired, my child. You can rest in a moment once you’ve opened the drive.”
“No,” she said. “I’m not tired. I’m… I’m…” She looked at him in surprise. “You’re manipulating me!”
“Awen, I think you just need some rest. Finish accessing the—”
“You said that the holo-feed cut out when the bomb detonated. But the mwadim didn’t give me the stardrive until after the explosion.”
“What I meant was—”
“No. You said what you meant to say.” Awen was furious, and she let the emotion rise from within her. She withdrew to her center and used the fury to push against the walls that seemed to be constricting her soul. Someone had put them there without her permission.
Awen summoned her strength and felt the Unity swirl within her like a waterspout. Then she pressed her inner world away, causing a blast of energy to surge from her spirit, through her body, and into the room. Her eyes flew open. The wave of power blew against So-Elku’s robes and made him step back.
Now Awen was alert—still tired, but alert. She could see again, and she knew that So-Elku was not safe.
16
“Why?” Awen asked, her face twisted in disbelief.
So-Elku straightened his arms with a quick snap then stiffened his neck. “These are things beyond your control, Awen. That stardrive is the property of the Luma. Do you think you really could keep it a secret from me?”
“A secret? I wasn’t keeping a secret from you. You were dimming my senses! I could feel your mind at work.”
“I was assisting you.”
“Assisting me?” A wave of self-doubt washed over her. This was, after all, Master So-Elku. And she was standing face to face with him, in private, accusing him of lying to her and actively manipulating her mind. Maybe she was out of line.
“No.” She shook her head, deciding on her course. “If you came to know about the stardrive through honest means, and it was that important to you, all you would have needed to do was ask.”
“My child, I wanted to make sure you were all right first,” he pleaded.
Awen locked eyes with him. “Who told you about it?”
So-Elku took a step toward her and held out his hand. “Give it to me.”
“Who told you about it?”
“Awen, I need you to hand me the stardrive now.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“Then I hold you in contempt of the Order.”
“You do that,” she said, turning away from him. She’d only taken a step toward the doors when her movement was arrested. She couldn’t move her legs or arms. It was as if someone had placed her in a pool of water and flash frozen it around her limbs.
Awen watched So-Elku out of the corner of her eye as he walked around her. “I’m sorry your career has to end with imprisonment,” he said with a sudden air of superiority that seemed unlike what she knew of him. “You always were our most promising and inquisitive student, Awen. There’s no doubt that you would have become a great elder in your time, perhaps even our greatest.”
Was it really ending like this? Did she really just brave all the hostilities of Oorajee only to be imprisoned back on Worru at the hands of a traitor to the Order? No, this can’t be the end. But she was no match for the master—she knew that. She tried to break his grip on her, but So-Elku’s powers were too strong.
“You still have one problem,” Awen said.
“Do I?”
“You and I both know you can’t coerce me to open the stardrive.”
So-Elku coughed out a laugh, shaking his head. “My child, my child. When I’m done with you, neither you nor the drive will have any idea that you didn’t open it on your own account.” He walked over and removed the device from her satchel.
“No! Don’t you touch that!” Awen struggled against his invisible grip but still couldn’t move. “That’s not yours!”
“It became Luma property the moment the mwadim passed it to you.”
How does he know the mwadim handed it to me? The whole thing didn’t make sense. No one knew of the drive except a handful of off-world vagabonds. And the only person who knew that the mwadim passed it to her personally was Magnus. Even though she disdained Magnus’s choice of occupation, she couldn’t pic
ture him being a snitch. Plus, he lacked motive, nor did he have access to the order’s grand master. None of it made any sense to her.
“You’re no Luma,” Awen spat.
“Easy, my child.”
“Stop calling me that!”
“Now, now. You need to rest.” So-Elku lowered his head. “After all, you’ve had a long trip.” Awen suddenly felt dizzy, a wave of vertigo disorienting her senses.
“No,” she mumbled, squinting against a sudden urge to vomit. “Stop this.” She felt something press against her hand—the stardrive—and her thumb moving atop the button. This can’t be happening. Awen wished Willowood would rush through the door and rescue her. She tried to center herself, to gather her strength to reach the elder. But it was no use. She was too tired.
“There you are,” So-Elku said, “lying beside the mwadim at the back of the dais. The second explosion detonates, and his body slides closer to you. You’re barely conscious. Then he places something in your hand…”
The images flashed in front of Awen’s eyes as if she were experiencing the episode all over again, only this time, she wasn’t lying on the ground but hovering a few meters above the scene. A true out-of-body experience. She didn’t want to relive this, yet the images were being forced upon her. Then she noticed that something about the memories didn’t feel right. This wasn’t her spirit watching her body. It was too sterile. Too clinical. Too…
Too robotic, like a hover-bot with a holo-cam. Awen realized she was watching a feed of the events in the mwadim’s palace from a drone. These were not her memories of the encounter; these were what So-Elku had seen. But who would have been recording her? And why would So-Elku and the Order send a hover-bot? It meant that they expected this.
Awen’s head ached, and the pain was growing more intense by the second. She wished Willowood was here now more than ever, and her heart began to despair as she realized the master’s power was too strong for hers. Awen tried to reassert her will against So-Elku’s, but doing so only made her head hurt worse. Still, she had to resist. She would rather die than lose like this.
“Don’t fight it,” So-Elku coaxed her. “You see yourself, don’t you? Remember. Remember.”
“I… won’t… yield.”
“Remember!” he yelled at her.
“I won’t… yield!”
“Remember!”
“I WON’T YIELD!”
From across the room came an elderly woman’s voice. “Awen? Master So-Elku, what’s going on?”
Awen instantly felt the shackles on her body fall away, and the images vanished. She fell to the ground in a heap, gasping for breath. Willowood had sensed her need after all!
“Leave us!” So-Elku yelled at the woman.
Awen blinked, regaining a sense of her surroundings. The cold marble floor felt good on her palm. Her other hand held the stardrive. She swallowed, suddenly aware of blood dripping from her nose, and looked up to see Elder Willowood standing at the open doors. If Awen was going to have a chance of survival, this was it. “Help me,” she mouthed to Willowood.
That was all it took for the elderly woman to spring into action. Defying her aged appearance, Willowood raced forward, dipping her head toward So-Elku in concentration. A wave of power rippled through the air and slammed into the man. It hit him hard enough to make him stumble backward. Willowood kept running and reached a hand toward Awen, who grabbed it and tried to stand, but her legs were too weak.
“Come on, dear. You’ve got to move.”
“I don’t—”
Awen and Willowood were sent sprawling, sliding across the smooth floor. Awen felt herself slam into the wooden doors, and a shock of pain wracked her body.
“What do you think you’re doing, Willowood?” So-Elku said.
“I’m stopping you from whatever you’re doing.” The woman climbed to her feet. Blood trickled from her forehead.
Willowood looked skyward and tore away a section of the domed ceiling. It fell toward So-Elku, who glanced up, sending the sandstone to one side. That was all the time the old woman needed. Awen watched as So-Elku became constricted as if an invisible vise had pinned his arms to his sides.
“You’ve got to move,” Willowood said to Awen. “That won’t hold him for long. Come on.”
Willowood helped Awen through the massive doors while So-Elku seethed behind them. The man spewed profanity that stung Awen’s ears as if some demon had replaced the spirit of the legendary master’s soul. Willowood drew the doors shut and waved her hand to seal them.
“Are you okay?” Willowood asked as she tried to get Awen to run down the main hall.
“I think so. He was, he was—”
“He was hurting you. That’s all I need to know.”
Awen struggled to keep up with the woman, but each step brought renewed strength. Willowood held her hand as they gained speed, heading back toward the Arielina’s entrance. Several passing elders tried to inquire of Willowood, but she ignored them.
“I don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself involved with, dear, but we’d better get you out of here,” Willowood said.
“It has to do with—”
“Not now. Listen, whatever So-Elku wants, he’s probably not working alone. Do you trust that pilot who brought you here?”
“Captain Ezo? I don’t really think—”
“Enough to get you someplace safe?”
“I—suppose.” Awen felt Willowood tug her down the steps and into the afternoon sun.
“Good. We’re getting you back on that ship.”
* * *
“So, we have a deal, then?” Ezo asked, his boots crossed atop the cantina table.
“You make a delivery of our shipment to Sorrelle, three days, no questions,” confirmed the Faddamo trader, the large gills on his neck rhythmically slurping air. “Two thousand now, three thousand upon completion.”
“Sounds like a standard contract. And a pretty good one at that.” Ezo stuck his hand out to shake and noticed someone across the cantina looking at him with recognition. Ezo knew he had to wrap things up fast. He also wished he’d not told TO-96 to stay with the ship. “I’ll receive your cargo, platform thirty-nine. But can we move the time line up? Ezo just realized that—”
“Idris splicking Ezo,” came a gruff voice from the bar. “Why, if it isn’t the bounty hunter who swindled me out of fifty thousand credits over Fiad Six.”
“Gormar, how nice to see you.” Ezo kept his right hand extended toward his nearly closed client and placed his other on his blaster for insurance. The gray-skinned gargantuan Diim rose from his seat at the bar—his two seats at the bar—and lumbered toward Ezo’s table.
“Wait, fifty thousand credits?” the Faddamo asked.
“Thought he was dead,” Ezo replied then turned to Gormar. “Thought you were dead.”
“I almost was, thanks to you alerting those Republican troopers.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Ezo said to the Faddamo, waving his hand and removing his feet from the table. “It was resolved months ago. This fellow has just had one too many whiskeys.”
“I haven’t even started drinking,” Gormar insisted, getting closer.
Ezo looked back to the Faddamo, desperate for the trader to shake his hand. “So, we have a deal?”
The Faddamo looked between the Diim and Ezo then back again. “I think we’ll take our business—”
“Perfect!” Ezo said, slapping the aquatic humanoid’s hand. The next instant, Gormar drew his weapon and fired a bolt. Ezo jumped back, knocking his chair over as the blast of energy shredded the table.
Wood fragments peppered Ezo’s pants, and the astringent smell of ionized air made his heart race. He always loved a good firefight, and it had been a while since his last one. Too long, he mused. Ezo’s SUPRA 945 was up and aimed faster than most humanoids could think. He squeezed the trigger, and a white bolt grazed the Diim’s shoulder. Ezo didn’t want to kill the beastie, after all; there was no need for unnec
essary violence. Plus, he never knew when an older client, even a vengefully malicious one hell-bent on tearing his arms off, might be a repeat customer if the circumstances were right. He just wanted to make sure the giant thought twice before interrupting negotiations with a client—should there ever be a next time.
“What’d you do that for?” Gormar shouted, dropping his blaster and grabbing the wound. Patrons screamed as they rushed for the exits, glasses and furniture toppling over. Ezo ignored the Diim and looked to the fish-man.
“Platform thirty-nine! Don’t forget!” Ezo yelled.
Gormar grabbed his blaster off the ground and leveled it at him. Another blast tore through Ezo’s toppled chair, splinters spraying the floor.
“Thirty-nine!” Ezo exited the cantina and squinted against the sunlight.
“Sir,” a voice said in his earpiece, “are you enjoying your jaunt to rustle up some new business?”
“Fire up Geronimo, Ninety-Six! I’m coming in hot. Three minutes.”
“Marvelous, sir. Hold on, sir.” There was some commotion in the background. “I say, we have quite enough fuel already. And don’t touch that!”
“Ninety-Six! What’s going on?”
“I’m sorry, sir. Bawee technicians are putting their filthy hands all over the ship during refueling. Though I hesitate to classify them as technicians. They’re more like—”
“Confirm my last transmission!” A blaster bolt zipped over Ezo’s shoulder and smacked into a glass storefront across the street. People shrieked and dove to the ground. While there was no such thing as a seedy part of town in Plumeria, Ezo always managed to find the watering holes where the most disreputable residents congregated. He thought it ironic that the street looked like any upscale thoroughfare in the galaxy even though the cantina was rife with riffraff. Even the fastest skiff still finds flies, he mused. “Get the ship ready. We’re leaving hot.”
“I was just going to suggest the same thing, sir.”
Ezo hesitated and fired a shot over his shoulder. “Wait—why?”
“Do you remember the very attractive Luma emissary?”
Ruins of the Galaxy Box Set: Books 1-6 Page 13