Renegade
Page 41
He had actually used the words, and Caze had been stunned at the power of them. Somewhere inside him he had made the decision that only success would earn him the right to their acceptance, and more importantly, the right to take that place at Lana’s side. And the night that massive explosion had destroyed the Coalition’s capabilities in this entire quadrant he had at last felt he could believe in their welcome. Ziemites were a very unusual people.
I feel more than welcomed. I am honored.
They were the only words he’d been able to get out the day they had all voted to offer him citizenship. And they’d been true; all the honors he’d received in his career meant nothing compared to this. It had caught him off guard, and he’d known what he was feeling was showing in his face. He did not care, for they had earned his honest feelings. He was still learning, was still at times startled, and sometimes wearied by the onslaught of the emotion Lana had given him, but in their hours alone he knew the heights they found together were worth any price.
And tomorrow he would take his place beside the woman who had not only changed—and saved—his life, but had changed him at a deep, fundamental level. He would pledge to her, and it would be a covenant he would keep unto death, for only through her had he learned what it truly meant to live.
They had stripped the equipment left behind of all Coalition connection. Brander had replaced all comms with their own, and removed any Coalition system that could trace them. And they were all now adorned with the new logo Kye had designed, with the curved, crossed sabers of Ziem. And even as he’d admired the design, Caze had suddenly realized she was now free to do what she had been born to do, create things such as the incredible portrait that he would treasure forever. And he had seen by the gleam in her eyes, so like her cousin’s, that she could not wait to start.
“Oh, speaking of done, here,” that cousin said, reaching into his jacket pocket and holding something out to Caze. He took what the man who had become his fast friend handed him and looked at it. It appeared to be a pair of the wraparound spectacles like those worn on Clarion to shade the eyes from the unforgiving glare. Of what use such would be on a world that saw so little of their sun, he was not sure.
“I . . . thank you?” he said, puzzled.
Brander grinned at him. “It didn’t seem fair that we can see through the mist and you can’t, so I made those.”
Caze’s eyes widened, and he slipped them on. They hugged his face closely, and suddenly even the farthest hangar sprang into focus. He nearly gaped. “This is how you see, all the time, through the mist?”
“Welcome to our world.” Brander’s grin widened.
“In all ways,” Lana said from beside him. He instinctively reached out to her, and she took his hand as he thanked Brander.
“Will they—”
“Come back?”
The twins asked it anxiously, looking at the aircraft that had so recently belonged to the enemy. He pulled off the clever glasses to meet their gaze directly. “Perhaps, someday,” he said honestly. “Although they will, I think, forever doubt the wisdom of using planium from here. But if they do return, by then we will be ready for them.”
The twins immediately relaxed, and scampered off to find some mischief to get into. It forever amazed him that they believed in him so deeply. It made him more determined to never let them down than he’d ever been about anything in his life. Except for holding and loving the woman beside him now.
“With great love comes great responsibility,” Lana said softly.
He only smiled. He no longer asked her if she was reading his mind, for he knew she was not. She simply understood him, better than anyone ever had.
“Are we ready?” she asked of the group, but aiming it at her eldest son.
“I just hope it works,” Brander said with a grimace.
“It will,” Eirlys said. “For has not the Spirit foreseen it?”
“And,” Caze added, “it need only work once.”
“There is that,” Brander said with a steadier expression. “Just that one blast to the satellite, with the code you overwrote to send it on, and who knows, it might just make it.”
“Are you all right that we might never know?” Kye asked her cousin.
Brander shrugged, then grinned. “It’s a lot better than what we almost did, when we’d never have known if it worked or not.”
“Indeed,” Drake said, and it was heartfelt.
And so they went inside to the communications section of the former Coalition compound, where Brander and Caze had spent nearly a month rigging, re-rigging, tuning, focusing, and finally coming up with the code that they hoped, just once, in a single, short burst, would take over the entire string of Coalition satellites across the galaxy.
Once there, they had a final discussion on the content they were about to send. Drake seemed nervous, but they all knew it must be the Raider.
“Speak for your father,” Caze said to him quietly. “Say what he cannot.”
The two men simply looked at each other, the weight of the past a tangible thing in that moment. But Caze held his gaze, and after a moment Drake gave a nod that was as much salute as acknowledgment. Then he turned to step into the spotlight Brander had rigged, and Lana hugged Caze fiercely.
And so the Raider recorded a message to be blasted across the galaxy, in the hope that somehow it would reach those who had sent them precious help, help that had led to the ouster of the Coalition on Ziem.
And anyone else who needed hope as they had needed it.
Epilogue
Trios
THE SUN WAS JUST rising when a clatter outside woke them.
“Sorry!” came the call from the doorway. “But you’re going to want to see this.”
The man and woman in the bed sat up, smiling at each other, for it had been a glorious night. They each still bore faint marks on their skin, for their passion for each other had never ebbed in all these years.
“Today?” suggested the voice from the doorway.
Laughing, they rose and quickly dressed to follow their son’s command.
In the room where he led them, they found others, including their son’s bonded mate, next to her her father, the man who had once been the most famous skypirate in the galaxy, and his own mate who had once worn the enemy uniform.
And in the large chair sat a man with wisps of gray hair clinging to his skull, his skin weathered and wrinkled, but his eyes clear and bright.
“You all know of Ziem?” asked a man with a patch over one eye, souvenir of his own encounter with the Coalition.
“Where planium comes from,” said Queen Shaylah with a nod.
“Yes.” The man nodded at the son who had fetched his parents from their bed. The old man in the chair watched eagerly as the royal prince of Trios hit a button on the communications array before them.
A holoimage snapped to life before them. A man, tall, strong, with dark hair and clear, blue eyes looked into the holorecorder as if he could see whom he was speaking to. There was the ring of power, of presence in his voice when he began to speak, and it grew as he went on.
I am Drake Davorin of Ziem, the world that is the source of the planium used by the Coalition to build their ships and weapons. I am also the leader of the Sentinels, the force of Ziemites who just weeks ago successfully drove that Coalition off of our world and, for now at least, out of the quadrant. No longer will they use our resource against us, or anyone else. We will see to that.
We send this message for two reasons. One, to thank those who sent us hope, via a hologram and a brilliant plan for a device mimicking a fusion cannon that bought us the time to mount both a defense and an offense. To the people of Trios, in particular the inventor of the device, and a former skypirate and his Coalition officer—one of the best of which is now with us, I might add�
��we send our thanks, for it was your help that changed everything.
The second reason is to say to anyone who might see this while still entrapped by the Coalition evil, there is hope. They are not all powerful; they can be beaten. Fight on, in whatever way you can, for the thinner they are spread, the more vulnerable they become. We began just over four years ago with little more than worn-out hand weapons and ancient blades, and yet the Coalition is gone.
King Darian of Trios, you were right. It was not easy. There were deaths. But we did win. We no longer live under the bootheel of the Coalition, and those who died, died free so that their fellow Ziemites can now live free.
And it was worth it.
The image flickered out.
They all stared, transfixed.
“We picked it up just before dawn,” Dax Silverbrake, skypirate turned Defense Minister for Trios said in an awed whisper. “As far as we can tell, it bounced off every Coalition satellite between here and there.”
“That’s some clever work,” his mate, former Coalition major Califa Claxton said.
“As was yours, my old friend,” the King of Trios said. He turned to face the old man in the chair, who was still watching the air where the image had been, his cheeks suspiciously wet.
“It’s spreading,” whispered Queen Shaylah, crouching down and putting her hands over the old man’s thin ones. “And it’s your doing.”
“And in the end,” said King Darian, forgoing protocol and kneeling before the old man who had earned even a king’s deference, “they will lose, Paraclon. Because such evil cannot stand against good forever. Know that, as I know it. As we know it.” He gestured at the spot where the unexpected holoimage had hovered. “As he knows it, and as others will come to know it. They. Will. Lose.”
And when the King of Trios straightened to his full height to look upon them all, it was with great satisfaction.
“I’d like to meet this one, someday,” Dax said. “He looks like a true fighter.”
“And leader,” Califa added.
“I’d stand with him,” Tark said, his arm around his mate, Rina.
“I would like to meet his inventor,” said Paraclon, his voice stronger than it had been in months.
“Perhaps,” Dare said with a slight smile, “that can be arranged, someday soon.”
They departed to the great hall, to lift a morning toast to the people of Ziem, half a galaxy away. And the man who had once been a collared Coalition slave and was now a king, dared to believe that everything he’d said to his old friend was true.
The End
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About the Author
“Some people call me a writer, some an author, some a novelist. I just say I’m a storyteller.”
—Justine Dare Davis
Author of more than 60 books (she sold her first ten in less than two years), JUSTINE DARE DAVIS is a four-time winner of the coveted Romance Writers of America RITA Award, and has been inducted into the RWA Hall of Fame. Her books have appeared on national bestseller lists, including USA Today. She has been featured on CNN, as well as taught at several national and international conferences and at the UCLA writer’s program.
After years of working in law enforcement, and more years doing both, Justine now writes full-time. She lives near beautiful Puget Sound in Washington State, peacefully coexisting with deer, bears, a tailless raccoon, a pair of bald eagles, and her beloved ‘67 Corvette roadster. When she’s not writing, taking photographs, looking for music to blast in said roadster, or driving said roadster, she tends to her knitting. Literally.