Jade had closed her eyes and focused her mind. She reached out, imagining long arms drifting through time and space. The Essence was a fickle thing, and Jade was far from completely mastering it…nor would she ever, now that the Sisters were either in hiding or dead.
The Brink.
They had told her to go to the Brink, the edge of the galaxy, and there she would know what to do with the crystal. It meant they were as clueless about it as she was. And the Brink? How many people made it to those mysterious planets and lived to tell the tale?
Next to none.
What would make her any different?
Her father spoke in her mind now. Because you are my Jade, and nothing can stop you.
Imaginary voices.
A hand fell on Jade’s shoulder, squeezing hard. She was startled out of her thoughts.
Wylow’s face looked worried. “Did you hear that, my queen?”
“Hear what?”
“The transmission I just received. The God-King’s army has infiltrated the castle. It’s only a matter of time before their scanners find us down here. We must go.”
Jade nodded.
“They want you dead,” Wylow continued, "and I will not allow that to happen.”
Smiling, Jade stuck out her hand and stroked Wylow’s cheek. She had always been so loyal, so kind, and so brave.
“Thank you, Wylow. What would I do without you?”
“You would be fine,” Wylow answered. She grabbed Jade around the arm and dragged her down the corridor. It was something she would’ve never done, had the circumstances not called for it. “But let’s not find out yet.”
They rushed toward the hangar, where their ship, a small F-class transport, waited for them. The ship once belonged to Jade’s father, but it had been retired many years ago and replaced with a newer, better ship. That one, however, was gone now, destroyed by the cybersoldiers that had stormed the city.
My city, Jade thought, my planet, and touched the crystal again. Something happened then. She felt a jolt of electricity from the artifact, rippling through her fingers and up her arm like a current. But as quick as it came, it was gone, and she wasn’t sure it had happened at all.
“Ain’t gonna be easy,” the pilot said. He stood by the entrance ramp, a man named Duke who had been a pilot in Xovia longer than Jade had been alive. “But I’ll get you out of here, my queen.”
Above them, the ceiling rocked and dust flittered down like a fine snow. Ion cannons rumbled as they ripped the city apart, and the tortured and dying screamed.
“Let’s go! Let’s go!” the pilot said, waving his arms.
Led by Wylow, Jade entered with her. The ramp retracted, closed, and sealed.
From the cockpit, the pilot said, “Strap in! It’s gonna be a bumpy one.”
Jade all but fell into a seat in the main hold. The ship took off before she could fasten her harness, the force of the engines holding her back. Through the windows, the cave flashed by, and soon there was daylight. Jade buckled in but leaned around so she could see through the viewscreen. A waterfall cascaded in front of them, and then the ship blasted through it, and into the wide-open expanse of blue sky.
“That’s the easy part!” Duke shouted. “Hard part's coming up. We’re gonna have to get past their blockade.” He turned and smiled at Jade. “If anyone can do it, your old pal Duke can.”
Jade hadn’t really heard him. She was too distracted by the destruction of her home.
Wylow closed the shutter and reached across to grab Jade’s hand. She squeezed, and Jade squeezed back.
“Almost there, ladies!” Duke hollered from the cockpit. “Just hang on.”
The roar of the engines mostly drowned out his voice.
Though Akyra usually worked alone, she didn’t mind the cybersoldiers that followed her toward the castle. As long as they followed and didn’t get in her way.
Dressed in her own armor, chrome and as strong as any in the galaxy, Akyra led them toward the burning trees. She wore no helmet. Didn’t believe in them. A shot to the head with any blaster, no matter the strength of the material the helmet was made out of, would almost always prove fatal. She had known too many whose visors had been smashed into sharp, jagged pieces—pieces that embedded into the owner’s faces, gouging out eyes and rendering them all but useless on the battlefield.
Instead of a helmet, Akyra wore a hololens over her left eye. No glass there. It tapped into the power pack on her back. This pack filtered energy into her weapons; as long as it was operative, she would never run out of ammunition. Such a modification to one’s armor suit was illegal in nearly every star system past the Galactic Median, but Akyra didn’t care. She did her job, and she did her job well.
Using her eye to control the lens, she brought up her targets. Looking to the right or left allowed her to swipe through the pictures the human war-master had given her on the datachip. She paused on the last target. The name below it said Queen Jade Alanden, and judging by her picture, this little queen would be no problem.
The mercenary shook her head. She would not enjoy killing this girl—did she really enjoy killing anyone, when it came down to it? Had the price on her head not been so high, she wouldn’t have agreed to killing her at all. Unfortunately for Queen Jade Alanden, the price was right. Enough for Akyra to squirrel it away and retire from the killing business. Maybe she’d settle down on Cray, the paradise planet, spending her days sunning on the beaches and reading, a tall glass of chilled juice sweating next to her. No qualms, no quarrels, and no worries. Or perhaps she would start her own business. Doing what? She didn’t know, but she did know there was more to this universe than hunting down people for frags. Much more.
From her hololens, Akyra tapped into the cybersoldier’s communications. She had three accompanying her, and each of them would adhere to her commands. This, too, was also highly illegal. Hacking into the Celestial Dominion’s weapons was punishable by death in all systems. At least the ones the God-King had claimed as his own.
Akyra blinked three times in quick succession. This activated her spectral vision, granting her the ability to see through the dense metal that comprised most of the castle walls. Each room and tunnel was outlined in bright yellow, and each living organism appeared on the screen as an electric red. A quick scan of the castle showed next to no red. Akyra wasn’t surprised. Total annihilation was usually the case when the God-King sent a war-master-led battalion to a planet.
No live bodies, but something else caught her eye.
This made her stop.
There was a secret tunnel below the castle.
Using the cyber language, she called the soldiers back.
“Change of plans. Ready your cannons and focus all fire toward the ground.”
She set a beacon to where she thought a weak spot would be, and the soldiers transformed their arms into huge weapons.
“Fire!” Akyra shouted.
The earth shook with the thunder of a hundred dropped bombs.
They emptied their cannons. All that came from them was smoke, and when the rubble cleared, she saw the hole the weapons had made. Big enough for a CV transport to squeeze through.
She directed the soldiers to follow her. They dropped down and into a stone cavern. It stretched farther than her spectral vision could reach.
Behind her, the soldiers landed with a clank, the force of their steel thunderous when they hit the cavern’s floor.
“C’mon,” Akyra shouted, waving them forward. Her voice carried far. Down here, the sounds of the assault above were muffled.
They rushed down the corridor. Akyra’s Thrathan strength allowed her to keep up with the soldiers—and not many species in the galaxy could do that.
Spectral vision back on. A quick scan.
There—a red outline.
Two.
Three.
The corridor opened onto a hangar. An old starship was parked on a landing platform.
The engines started up with a d
eafening whoosh.
Akyra felt the wind blow back, throwing her dreaded locks of hair away from her sweating brow.
“Focus all your fire on that ship!” she told the cybersoldiers. “Don’t let it escape!”
The soldiers rolled forward, tucking themselves into balls. They moved faster that way, blurs of black steel, and then they opened up at the hangar’s entrance and began firing.
The sounds of blaster fire echoed off the walls.
But it was too late. The ship hovered, its thrusters spraying flame, and it lurched forward with little grace. Still, its escape was effective; only a few of the soldiers’ shots hit the mark before the starcraft disappeared completely.
Anger surged through Akyra. The soldiers were useless. How dare the war-master saddle her with such imperfect machines?
She pulled her blaster up and aimed at the nearest robot—a flick of her finger changed the gun’s spray from burst to nova, perfect for short-range destruction—and she pulled the trigger. The force of the shot knocked her back a foot, but she held steady, and she closed her eyes as the soldier was evaporated into crumpled metal.
Seeing this helped assuage some of her anger. Not all, but some.
She told the other cybersoldiers they could be next if they fail again. Of course, the soldiers showed no reaction; they weren’t sentient. They were machines, killing machines.
Akyra jumped out of the blasted-open roof and back onto the battlefield. The soldiers followed. Once on the surface, she tapped into her holoport, bringing up a communication with the massive Battler hanging over the city and blocking out the sun.
She typed in the clearance code given to her by the war-master. With a crackle, the channel went live.
“Yes?” someone said.
“A ship got away. It’s heading south, an old F-Class. Shoot it down for me.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Akyra raised her head and shielded her eyes. She could just make out the distant vehicle as it headed for the clouds.
Then—louder than anything else amongst the battlefield—two bolts of blue lightning cut through the sky, leaving contrails in their wake. The F-Class maneuvered deftly, avoiding the first bolt, but the second hit home, and a small spray of fireworks sparked from its right wing.
Hit.
Akyra smiled.
Another two bolts exploded from the Battler.
This was going to be the easiest job she ever worked.
Wylow was saying: “We’re going to be okay—”
Then the ship rocked violently to the left. A thousand instruments beeped in the cockpit, and red warning lights blinked above. Inky, black smoke streamed around them, staining the blue sky. It came from the ship. They’d been hit. Their stealthy escape had failed.
“Hang on! We’re—” Duke yelled as another shot pummeled the craft, this time hitting it head on. Glass shattered, the console exploded, and Duke, sitting in front of it, was nearly evaporated. A great rush of wind tore through the cabin. Jade could hardly keep her eyes open.
The ship was going down, and all she could do was scream.
She looked across from her. Wylow hung out of her chair, barely strapped in by the seat belt. She was unconscious, eyes closed, lips parted, her curly hair blowing in every direction.
I’m going to die, Jade thought. This is the end.
As she prepared to accept her fate, a voice spoke in her head. It was so loud and clear, who it belonged to could’ve been there next to her, talking right into her ear.
Scarleth. But from where? Was it her brain’s last-ditch effort at making sense of all of this?
“I’ve taught you better than this, Jade,” Scarleth said. “You never give up. A true Sister never surrenders, because it is not over. It’s only over when you say it is.”
She was right—apparition or not, she was right.
Jade unbuckled her seat belt and stood, her eyes closed, her mind searching for something to hook into. The Essence often gave her insight and wisdom, and sometimes, when used correctly, filled her body with strength.
She gritted her teeth as she reached for a handrail and pulled herself along the wall. Wind whipped at her face. The inside of the ship was a tornado. She could hardly breathe, let alone think. Her mind was slipping, and with it, her grasp on the Essence.
“No,” she said. “No!”
And with one great burst she launched herself forward, against the force of gravity, against all odds, against everything. She gripped Duke’s seat, seeing him out of the corner of her eyes. He was dead. Harping on this would do no good. She had to get control of the ship, or she would be dead, too.
The last of the lights in the cockpit blinked off, and the engine died with a loud whir. Jade thudded into the seat next to Duke. She didn’t fasten her seat belt, using the power of the planet’s core to keep herself in place. Through the cracked viewscreen, the forest was coming up fast to meet them. Tall trees that would turn the ship into dust upon impact.
Think, think, think! Jade thought.
Her past, her time spent with her father on this very ship, him telling her what each button and instrument did. How it flew.
The images came to her crystal clear. Her father pointing and—
Jade grabbed the steering column. It was mostly intact. With her other hand, she pulled a lever free. This flared the rudders, and the ship righted itself almost instantly. With no engine support, she would have to hope to glide into safety.
The steering column fought back, and Jade almost couldn’t hold on any longer. “Come on, come on!” she shouted over the rush of the wind, gritting her teeth, squeezing the handles so hard that her knuckles popped.
She pulled back with all her might, fought—
The ship rocked and shook, trees battered the hull, and laid out before her was a vast sea of green. She lost her grip on the steering column. The ship was no longer in her control, but the worst of it was over. The trees had broken their fall. Whether her and Wylow lived was now in the Gods’ hands.
Less than five seconds later, the trees parted and the ship dropped, but this drop was nothing compared to where they started from.
They crashed in a clearing, not far from a running river. Jade was thrown forward into the console, the pain immediate and intense. She fought the feeling, pushed it away, and focused her mind. It was easy when her survival depended on it. The downed ship would be a beacon to the Dominion’s fleet no matter where they landed, and if Jade had to guess, they'd crashed somewhere in the Kerak Forest. Far enough to buy them some time, but not far enough for them to be completely in the clear.
Jade crawled along the cockpit access corridor toward the main hold, over twisted metal and broken glass. The smell of smoke and fire pummeled her nostrils, filled her throat. She tasted ash on her tongue.
The heat was turning the remains of the ship into an oven, and if Jade didn’t get Wylow out of here, all of them would be cooked.
Using the Essence, she blocked the pain from completely registering, dulling it, though she knew it would hit her as soon as she stopped. Tapping into the power had already made her weak and groggy.
“Wylow!” she shouted, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking.
There was no response.
Jade thought the worst: Wylow had died, and Jade was—for the first time in her life—totally alone.
How could she go on after such a defeat? Wylow was all she had, her anchor to the world she left behind. Jade rested her head on her friend, and tears slowly rolled down her cheeks, cutting tracks in the soot.
As the air grew hotter around her, Wylow moved.
Jade’s head shot up.
“Wylow?” She shook her again, this time with as much force as she could muster. Not much. The power she had drawn upon was almost gone.
Wylow was alive! Her breathing was ragged, but her chest was undoubtedly rising and falling.
“W-what happened?” she asked, her voice thick with pain. “Did w-we die?” She looked
at her queen with glazed-over eyes. “I am sorry I could not protect you, Queen J-Jade…”
Jade didn’t answer. Her hands were too busy trying to unfasten the harness. When her fingers touched, she heard a slight sizzle and felt her skin burn. Under normal circumstances the pain would’ve caused her to snap her hand away and cry out, but these were far from normal circumstances. She could feel the ship getting closer and closer to destruction. There was a solid chance the engine would blow, and if that happened, the two of them would be evaporated.
The buckle clicked, and Wylow fell forward. Her forehead was bleeding and her eyes looked dazed. Soot and ash stained her clothes. Jade wrapped her arms around Wylow’s middle and guided her out of the seat, and down the main hold toward the exit.
“Almost there,” she said. “Hold on to me, Wylow.”
The ship had canted, causing the ramp to crumple back into itself. When Jade hit the button, there was no response. She should’ve guessed. All the power had been rerouted to the front controls, as was common in the event of a catastrophe. They would have to find another exit. Jade, struggling with Wylow’s weight (the woman was nothing but solid muscle), pivoted and headed toward the cargo hold. Three steps in the hold’s direction and a wire from overhead burst from the wall, spraying fire and lightning. Jade and Wylow stumbled backward, their arms up and shielding their faces. In a blink of an eye, the walls ignited.
Well, can’t go that way, Jade thought. She wished she was as powerful as a true Sister, like Scarleth or Reinya, possessing the ability to bend the Essence into a storm that would punch a hole through the ship’s hold like a finger through paper.
But she didn’t, and there was no deceiving herself.
As the flames encroached, another idea popped into Jade’s mind. “Wylow,” she said, “your gun.”
Wylow didn’t respond. She was grimacing in pain, her mind focused only on that.
With her free hand, Jade reached around and grabbed the weapon from Wylow’s holster. She aimed at the door and pulled the trigger five times in quick succession. The crash had already weakened the integrity of the structure. The ship was no match for a beam at such close range, and five holes as round as plates punched through the hull. The bright light of the outside world filtered in. It was as beautiful as seeing the sunrise for the first time.
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