Embers of Esper: A Sci Fi Adventure (Warden's Legacy Book 1)

by Tony James Slater

  Her reply was distorted by static, even at this distance, but he recognised some of the swear-words. “—can’t fi— —down here— —have to— —later.”

  He got the gist. He made his way into the cockpit, to find the girl already working the controls, warming up the drives as she ran through a series of checks. “Strap in,” she told him. “Ah… sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”

  “I’m Tris,” he said, dropping into the co-pilot’s seat.”

  “I’m Elutarria. But you can call me Tarri.”

  Tris scanned the console, looking for external camera feeds. He couldn’t spot any, but the tech on this ship looked very different to the ones he was used to. It was gleaming for starters; a pearlescent white interior, with shiny silver accents, and everything from the seats to the consoles seemed to be one continuous piece of material.

  Tarri lifted off, although the view through the canopy didn’t change; thick brown dust formed an impenetrable cloud, leaving just gravity and inertia to tell Tris they were moving.

  “We’re up,” he said into his comm, hoping the message would get through. The range of his chip was fairly limited; normally the host ship relayed the signal, but he wasn’t connected to Tarri’s systems.

  “—head of you—” came back, and a shadow blanketed the canopy. Tarri brought up sensor data on a screen in front of him, and he recognised enough to figure out it represented Nightshade ascending just above them.

  But another target was showing, too. As Tarri’s ship gained altitude, a third ship lifted off from the same pad and accelerated towards them.

  “We’ve got company,” he said, tapping the display. Tarri glanced over and gave a little gasp of dismay; not exactly the sound Tris was hoping to hear at that moment.

  “What weapons do you have?”

  The stricken look she turned on him answered that question.

  “Great. You’ve got shields though, right?”

  In response, Tarri swiped through a menu on her console and stabbed an icon. It lit up red, with a buzz that didn’t sound good at all. She tapped it again, and again, but the result was the same.

  “No shields?” he hazarded.

  “The storm… I don’t think—”

  “Crap.” He jabbed his comm again. “Kyra? Can you hear me? We’ve got another ship behind us, closing in. Don’t know if they’re armed, but—”

  A beam of crimson light streaked past the canopy, burning a path through the airborne particles.

  “Shit! They’re armed! Kyra, get back here!”

  But a burst of static came from his chip, followed by silence.

  Tarri reacted by pouring power to the drives, and Tris was pushed back into his seat until the dampeners caught up. “If we get above the storm, the shields might work,” she said. She sounded desperate.

  Kyra? Tris reached out through the Gift. It was a long shot — literally, as her ship was kilometres away by now, forging its own path out of the atmosphere.

  Another shot blazed by, missing them by a narrow margin.

  “They’re probably firing blind,” he said, more to comfort the girl than because he believed it. Their pursuers would be used to conditions like this; there was a good chance they’d upgraded their systems to cope with it.

  “We’re nearly out,” Tarri said, leaning over the controls as though that would help them go faster.

  The ship lurched as the next shot struck their back end, and an alarm warbled. Tarri cut it off with a slap, but her eyes were wide with panic. “Kyra!” she shrieked into the ship’s comm. “Help us!”

  They burst out into clear air, which faded quickly into space. Tris could make out the tiny silhouette of Nightshade way ahead of them, the distant sun barely reflecting off her stealth-black coating.

  Too far, he realised straight away. Even with Kyra’s incredible piloting skills, she wouldn’t be able to swing around quickly enough. They had only a few seconds before their pursuer cleared the storm — at which point, they’d have an unobstructed shot.

  Tarri hit the shields icon, but it stayed stubbornly red.

  Tris found the control to give him a view from astern, and held his breath — as the ship behind them burst through the last layer of murk. A decrepit, flat-nosed mining shuttle, it nevertheless carried heavy laser cannons on two stubby pylons…

  And Tarri’s ship was a sitting duck.

  Shit. I knew I should have gone counting asteroids.

  Tarri hauled on her control stems in a clumsy attempt at evasive manoeuvres, as the ugly ship shifted position to compensate…

  And exploded.

  Tris was staring right at the image on his display when it disintegrated, consumed in a brilliant fireball. He blinked in surprise, finding coloured blobs dancing in his vision. A second later the shockwave buffeted their ship, pelting them with fragments of debris. No alarms blared this time, and they seemed to weather the impacts without taking too much damage.

  Tris let out a groan of relief, and draped himself across the console.

  “W— what— what happened?” Tarri was practically hyperventilating at the controls.

  “You did it,” Tris said, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder. “It’s okay, we’re safe.”

  He glanced at his display to make sure that was true. Nightshade was the only contact showing.

  “They’re gone,” he added, giving her another squeeze.

  She nodded, put her head down, and began to cry.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, feeling awkward. “We’ll be fine.”

  “But… what happened?”

  Tris squinted at his display, looking for clues. “I have no idea. Divine intervention?”

  She managed a weak smile at that. “Maybe Kyra sent a missile…?”

  Tris shrugged. He hadn’t seen anything like that on the sensors, but this tech was all new to him. He found he could read the markings on the various icons, but that was about it. Had a missile streaked past them undetected? Nightshade had that capability. “Maybe we just chalk that one down to experience.”

  When Kyra’s voice came over the comm, it startled both of them.

  “You kids okay? What happened back there?”

  “Another ship followed us up from the surface,” Tris replied. “Did you see it?”

  “What? No, all our scopes were down. Comms too — that soup was nasty! But you’re clear now?”

  “Yeah… it was the weirdest thing. The ship, it just kind of… exploded.”

  “You shot it down?”

  “No — it sort of shot itself down. Are there flammable gases and stuff in that atmosphere?”

  “Probably. But nothing that would take down a ship. Were they damaged already?”

  Tris nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe that’s it? That storm screwed our shields. If their ship was sitting out in it long enough, maybe they had a hull breach.”

  “Huh.” Kyra didn’t sound convinced. “Can you make it back to the Folly?”

  “Yeah, we’re fine. I might need a change of underwear though.”

  She chuckled, and cut the signal.

  Tarri had stayed silent during the call, focussed on her flying. Now she gazed at Tris, her eyes gleaming with admiration. “Thank-you so much! You saved my life. Twice actually, though I think that big fellow gets the credit for the first time.”

  Tris raised a shoulder. “Ah, it’s nothing. I’m usually a bit better prepared for stuff like this.”

  “Really? Why’s that?”

  “It happens quite a bit. I think it’s because I hang out with Kyra too much.” He smiled, in case she saw that as an insult, and she smiled back. That’s when it occurred to him; Holy crap! I’ve got her right here, all on her own… I can ask her anything! “So, Tarri,” he said, trying to sound casual. “Kyra’s your aunty, right? What’s that like?”

  She tilted her head. “I’m not sure. I’ve never met her before.”

  “Oh, fair enough. But she is a princess, right? Does that make you a princess, too?”


  Tarri raised her eyes to the roof. “Yeah… it’s such a drag. But my older sister Jennavaria is the Crown Princess.”

  “I knew it!” Tris punched the air, before regaining control of himself. “Sorry, Your Majesty.”

  “Ugh! Please don’t start with that! I’m so sick of all the bowing and scraping. That’s why I volunteered to become a diplomat. This is my shuttle, by the way.”

  She seemed rather proud of that.

  Tris racked his brain for the next question. There were so many things he wanted to ask, but he didn’t want to freak her out by getting too personal. “Your homeworld is called… Lorry-ak? Or something like that?”

  “No, silly! Loreak is my family name. I live on Esper. And what about you? Where do you hail from?”

  “I’m from Earth,” he said, without thinking about it.

  The sharp intake of breath was his first clue that he might have said something he shouldn’t.

  “Earth?” All trace of fear was forgotten now, as she turned in her chair and covered her mouth with her hands. “Oh my stars! Tell me everything!”

  NINE

  Tris never got to ask the rest of the questions he’d cued up in his mind. Instead, Princess Elutarria pelted him with questions of her own, barely giving him time to breathe in between answers.

  He spent the next twenty minutes regaling her with tales of his home planet, most of which were met with squeals of delight. When they arrived at the Folly she performed the docking manoeuvres without much interest, keeping most of her attention on him. It was quite flattering — she was exceptionally pretty, with wavy purple hair that fell to the middle of her back, creamy skin and wide, dark eyes in a heart-shaped face.

  Then he remembered that Ella was waiting for him, and that she might not take too kindly to him flirting. With a princess… and Kyra’s niece, too! Ouch. Talk about a recipe for disaster. Two of the most dangerous women in the galaxy… pissing them both off at the same time was a really bad idea.

  Tarri set her shuttle down in one of the Folly’s cavernous docking bays, and Tris wasted no time in making for the exit. She followed him out, gawping around her at the scale of the place.

  Kyra met them on the way to the docking bay door, and took charge of her niece in no uncertain terms. Tris bemoaned his failed interrogation, as he watched them walk off together. Still, his curiosity could wait, and the two women probably had a lot to discuss. He’d find out what all this was about soon enough, at which point he’d have a decision to make; carry on with Kyra, to solve whatever problem was happening on Esper — or return to Atalia, and explain his actions to Oktavius.

  He really wasn’t looking forward to that one.

  Thankfully, there was someone on board who could help to take his mind off such matters. He took the elevator up, getting off one floor earlier than he usually did, and made his way to the suite Ella had set up for him. Her artful recreation of his bedroom back in Bristol was an incredibly thoughtful gift, even though it made a mockery of the very laws he was meant to be upholding.

  He knocked softly on the door, then let himself in. The bed was rumpled, but empty. A cleaning bot was mooching around, though the room was already spotless. He heard running water, and tip-toed towards the bathroom.

  Ella was in the shower, but he should have known better than to think he could sneak up on her. She turned towards him, hair full of lather, as he poked his head around the door. “Hey sweetie! I got your message. How was the mission?”

  “Oh, you know, the usual. Bit of a punch-up. Bit of a space battle. Ooh, but we rescued a girl who turned out to be Kyra’s niece.”

  “Really?”

  Ella was rinsing her hair out, and Tris couldn’t help admiring the shape of her as she did it. “Are you done in there? Or do you want some company?”

  “I’m done,” she said, dashing his hopes. “But you stink! Hurry up and shower, so we can go get some breakfast.”

  He stood back to let her get out, handing her a towel as she passed. Then he shed his sand-blasted jeans and jacket, grimacing at the smell of rotten eggs that he’d somehow gotten used to. He stripped off completely and stepped into the shower. A tangle of Ella’s hair was caught in the drain, as always… along with several small flecks of bright orange grit.

  * * *

  Side by side, Tris and Ella made their way down to one of the Folly’s many crew lounges. Kyra had arranged to meet them there, favouring comfort over the convenience of the bridge. The smell of frying meat wafted out of the door as Tris approached, and he exchanged glances with Ella.

  “Mmm! I’m hungry,” she said.

  “Worked up an appetite this morning, did you?” He kept his voice light and teasing, but suspicion was starting to gnaw away at him.

  “Last night was pretty intense,” she purred, slipping a hand down to caress his backside. “I need to refuel before we go another round.”

  His traitorous body responded to that promise; his breath quickened, and he felt a stirring down below. My god! How can it be this easy to manipulate me? Am I really that much of a slave to my libido?

  The answer, of course, was yes. He paused in the corridor, pulling her against him and planting his lips on hers. She kissed back passionately, and the pleasure drove all other thoughts from his mind.

  “I really do have to eat,” she said, disengaging. “And we should probably hear what the story is.”

  He nodded reluctantly, and took a few seconds to compose himself before following her into the lounge.

  Kyra was already in there. The expression on her face said his little tryst hadn’t been quite as sneaky as he’d thought. Lukas was reclining on a couch, his feet propped up on a stool. They were bare, but thankfully the rest of him wasn’t. Tarri was wearing Kyra’s work-out gear — trusting her with precious clothes from Earth must have been a step too far. She was taking full advantage of the food preparation facilities, with several different appliances on the go. From the look on her face, Tris could guess that she hadn’t had much to eat lately.

  “So,” he said, plonking himself down opposite Lukas. “What’s the deal?”

  Kyra stayed standing, arms crossed. “The deal is, I’ve got to go home for a bit. Family business. Tris, you might as well head back to Atalia and take your ass-kicking from Oktavius. Lukas, you can do whatever the hell you want. Just don’t get in my way. We’ll take Nightshade, and—”

  “And my ship,” Tarri put in.

  “Really?” Kyra rounded on her. “Have you seen the damage you took? I can’t believe you flew all this way in a ship with no weapons at all.”

  Tarri returned the stare. She was definitely more spirited when her life wasn’t in danger. “My shuttle is the only way back to Esper. We’ve got defence barges now, and they destroy any ship that isn’t registered.”

  Kyra’s brow furrowed. “Instead of the ID chips?”

  “No, that’s still a thing. Normally, anyone going off-world gets theirs deactivated until they get back. It means they need an escort past the Ring, but that’s the only way to do it safely. The barges came online maybe thirty years ago? They’re an extra line of defence, now that we’re venturing out into the galaxy.”

  Tris was watching the emotions flicker across Kyra’s face. This was all new to her, that much was certain. He didn’t know why such mundane stuff was so important, but her expression said it was. “You alright?” he asked her.

  “Fine,” she snapped. “So it looks like we’re taking two ships.” She was quiet for a bit, clearly wrestling with another decision. Tris knew better than to prompt her a second time. “Ah, screw it,” she said at last. “Tris, you up for a road trip? I can’t let Little Miss Sunshine over here fly back on her own in that crappy tub, and there’s no way in hell I’m letting her fly Nightshade. If we could take the Folly, it would make things a whole lot easier.”

  Tris mugged a thoughtful expression, steepling his fingers and drumming them together. “Well, I did have a lot of things planned,”
he said. “But I don’t mind helping out. Seeing as you asked so nicely. There’s just one problem.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

  “You can’t afford me.”

  Kyra snorted, and Lukas chuckled.

  “I can,” Tarri said, coming out of the food prep area. “What’s your fee? We don’t use galactic credits on Esper, but I’m one of the richest people on—”

  Kyra grabbed her and put a hand over her mouth before she could finish the sentence. “Sydon’s Name, kid! Don’t you have any idea when to shut up? I thought you were a diplomat?”

  Tarri, when released, glared daggers in reply. “I’m in training.”

  Tris couldn’t keep the glee off his face. “I knew it!” He held a hand up towards Kyra and ticked the fingers off. “You are royalty, and you are fabulously rich. Let me guess — all this time, you’ve been running away from a life of stifling boredom and elegant garden parties? That’s why you made up all that crap! I bet you know which forks to use at posh dinners, too. I bet you can dance.”

  Kyra crossed her arms again, and let him finish. “Got all the answers now, have you? Okay then — here’s the truth. I left home when I was eighteen. I killed my oldest sister and my father. I slaughtered hundreds of our people, and was personally responsible for the deaths of thousands more. And the reason I did all that? Because one genocidal prick tried to take over our planet, and he brought an entire army with him to do it. That guy’s name was Viktor. Ring any bells?”

  Tris’ jaw sagged open. He’d always known there was more to Kyra’s story than a simple lie about her family. He’d seen glimpses of the darkness in her soul — usually when he was suffering from a similar affliction, and she’d shared some of her pain to lighten his. But to hear it all laid out like this, so coldly… there was no doubt in his mind that this was the truth he’d been seeking for so long.

  And now I know… I’d probably have been better off not knowing.