The commander’s grip loosened an iota. He tumbled Tarillion to the floor, his hands still wrapped around his neck.
“My ship?” he murmured.
Tarillion rasped a jagged breath, staring up at him. “You’re not this person,” he got out. “Not this man, Conrad Redeker.”
The commander pinned him with his gaze. “Conrad Redeker?”
“Your name,” he said. “Before all this happened. The admiral doesn’t want you to remember. Open a comm line to the Oro Yurei. It’s your ship.”
“Do not listen,” Karsath hissed. “Execute him now, Southwark.”
Southwark. Redeker.
Which name was real?
“Open a comm line,” Tarillion croaked. “Don’t hurt him—stay away.” It was an order to the bridge crew.
The commander looked up. No weapons were permitted on the bridge of any Imperial starship, but Tarillion’s officers were advancing on him, aware that the life of their captain was at risk.
Still, they obeyed him. He heard the tell-tale click of a comm line opening.
“—much longer,” he heard a woman shout. At the sound of her voice, his hands loosened slightly. “Tarillion—call them off!”
“Jira,” Tarillion gasped, his voice strained. “Her name is Jira Tai. Do you remember her, Redeker?”
“Commander,” the voice in his ear never ceased. “No more delays. Obey. Now.” Karsath’s urging and the questioning and strident commands crowded almost everything else.
“Conrad!” The woman’s voice was sharp and desperate. “Are you there? It’s Jira. Balt’s here too. We’re on the Oro.”
“Maybe not for much longer,” came the voice of a man over the comm line. “On account of the Oro going to bits and pieces.”
“Do you hear them, boy?” Tarillion rasped. “They’ve chased you across the Empire. They’ve been trying to save you.”
“Kill him,” the harsh voice inside his ear whispered.
There’s too many damn voices. He swayed slightly, torn between them all.
“Conrad, it’s me,” the woman pleaded. “Jira. I almost stabbed you in the palace on Albion Prime. Do you remember that?”
The Lusus lurched. He could sense the engines firing. The ship was on the move. The commander braced himself against the floor, slamming Tarillion back down when the captain made a move to rise up.
“There’s no escape from this,” the commander managed to say, focusing on the man gasping beneath him.
“Listen to me, commander,” Karsath growled. “You must obey.”
“No escape for either of us, no,” replied Tarillion.
He saw something. He reached down and grabbed the captain’s wrist. There was a small blade there, glinting.
“Sorry,” Tarillion said, a tired smile splitting his face. “You can kill me with it, if it makes you feel better. It’s only fair.”
He pressed a knee into the captain’s chest. He pulled the blade out, holding it in the palm of his hand. There was only a faint trace of blood on its edge from where it had cut him.
“Southwark—focus on me, and no others. Kill him,” the voice in his head ordered.
He studied the blade.
Lords, but I am tired of all these voices, he thought.
“It’s a fast acting poison, at least,” Tarillion wheezed. “I’m not a monster.”
“But I am,” the commander said.
He gripped the blade tightly. He had only seconds to act.
With a single breath, he plunged the weapon into his ear.
A white-hot agony coupled with a hot gush of blood flooding out of his ear brought him to his knees. He squeezed his eyes closed.
It's not enough. Not enough to kill the monster.
With the final shreds of his self-control he twisted the blade, sending jags of pain spasming through his head. His hands shook, and the warm, slick blade clattered to the ground.
Dimly, he heard hoarse screaming. It took a moment before he realized that it was his own voice.
But there was silence inside his head.
He felt a faint glow of relief even as throbbing waves of pain coursed through his cranium. It was good, he decided. It was a cleansing pain, even if it was deadly. A fire began to build along his nerves, burning brighter with each passing second.
Tarillion was as good as his word. The poison was swiftly taking effect. He wondered how long he had left.
Don’t let it be long. He felt another stream of blood trickling down his neck.
He felt the hands of Tarillion’s officers on him now, yanking him away, bracing him, gripping him so he could not collapse against the floor.
I did this, he thought hazily. I chose this. Even if it kills me.
“Please. Say something!” Jira pounded her fists on the bulkheads. “Conrad!” She hadn’t stopped talking the moment the line opened, but no one responded to her. For all she knew, Conrad was already dead.
They were close. So close to the Lusus. The ship was shaking apart under the attack of the fighters but Jira could only focus on the muffled voices coming through from the open comm line.
“Jira,” a man’s voice rasped. It wasn’t Conrad. “He’s hurt himself, Jira.”
“What did you do?” she shouted. “Did you—”
“He did it to himself,” Tarillion said. “He’s on his way out.”
“Let me talk to him,” she said. “Let me try.”
She was already starting to feel numb. They’d gambled everything and lost. His life, and hers, and Balt’s.
There was silence on the comm. She parted her lips and closed her eyes, forcing herself to focus. Imagining that he was listening.
“I’m here,” she said, as if she was standing next to him. “I know you hear me, Con. You have to. Even with everything that’s happening out there.”
She took a breath.
“I guess this is all my fault,” she said. “I always was bad luck for you. Even from the very beginning. I can come clean about that now. I dragged you into all this back in the palace, and then into the Federation.
“You’ve got to take some of the blame, of course. You did jump in without looking. The way you took the Oro into battle at Baro ... the way you took on the Secace, again and again. You could have run a hundred times, and you probably should have. But here we are.
“I’ve got you to thank for introducing me to Hogarth. I had a lot of fun in Sanctuary space. Have to admit that. Slipping through all the Corps’ nets, running contraband ...”
She took another breath.
“And then, of course ... New Crozet. I don’t regret what happened there between us. I regret nothing.” She felt her lip tremble but she steeled herself. “Absolutely nothing.”
The tight knot in her chest eased just slightly.
“Anyway, I took care of your ship—the Steadfast’s safe. So’s Argus. Your crew’s in good hands. Sorry I made such a mess of things.”
Jira looked at the blooms of fire surrounding the Oro on the piloting hologram. They were almost within reach of the Lusus but it didn’t really matter anymore. She continued talking, imagining that he was standing in front of her.
“In the end, I’m glad. I hope you know how I really feel. It kills me to admit it, but that hasn’t changed.”
She put her hand on the comm controls. There was only one more thing she wanted to say, and then it wouldn’t matter anymore.
“I was right about one thing. War and love don’t go together. But if you find your way back to Sanctuary …take the chance anyway. Tell Rose that she’s a lucky woman.”
She closed the comm line. It was almost dead.
There was a strange, exhilarating lightness in her chest.
Chapter 34
He staggered up. The universe seemed to tilt on its axis, but he was up. He grabbed the weapons console in front of him for balance, his hand sticky with blood.
“Jira,” he muttered as the universe straightened. “That was—Jira.”
; He recognized it now. That little spark inside darkspace ... that small burst of knowing. The portal did something to his consciousness. Expanded it—empowered it. He had seen her.
“Are we close enough?” he heard Tarillion shout. “Close to the Oro? And where the hell is the medic?” He heard the voice murkily, through one ear.
He turned his head towards the man. He had clawed his way back to his captain’s chair, the holographic displays around him blinking and shifting. Some of them were blank. Karsath had cut him off from the data feeds—of course.
“Tractor that ship as soon as it’s within reach,” said Tarillion. He shot a glance at the commander.
Not the commander, he told himself. My name is Conrad.
That was the name that Jira used. It felt right.
“The Oro Yurei,” he said slowly. “My ship. Jira’s ship.” There was a flash of relief in Tarillion’s eyes as he said those words.
“I don’t know if we can save it,” said Tarillion. “We don’t have much in the way of options. One small grace—they’re just aiming to cripple us, not to kill. They still want you alive, Conrad Redeker. If we can get to the portal, can you take us somewhere safe?”
“The portal?” he mumbled. He pulled himself up straight. “We have to get the Oro first.”
“We’re trying. Karsath figured that out pretty quick. They’re trying to herd the Oro away from us and back towards the Arbiter.”
Conrad swayed. He stumbled towards the cage. “Get the Oro,” he said. “And then get to the portal.”
Tarillion gave him a stiff nod and turned to the battle at hand.
Before he could reach the cage, he felt the hand of the medic. “It’s Asifa,” he heard the woman say. “Remember me, Balt Garrity? I see you haven’t given up on getting my ship blown up.”
He tried to smile but his face felt as if it was sagging. “I remember you,” he whispered.
“I need to sedate you before I flush—”
“Just stims,” he croaked. “No sedation. You need me conscious to get through the portal. Stims, doctor.”
She hesitated for only a moment before he felt the needle pierce his throat. A rush of unnatural energy pushed him forward into the cage. Before she could do anything else it began to close.
“You haven’t got long,” she warned.
“I know,” he said. He gazed at the hologram that floated inside the cage. The Arbiter led the charge, with the damaged Tachi not far behind them. A swarm of small fighters from the Tachi flew erratically between the ships. Not far off were the deadly shapes of a frigate and two destroyers, turning from the annexation and towards the drama unfolding around the Lusus. Karsath was calling in other ships from the battle to secure the Lusus.
There was a small flicker as a fighter caught in the crosshairs of the Lusus’s guns exploded near the Oro, sending the broken ship spinning. Its systems were failing—anyone could see that.
“The Oro,” he repeated.
“I see her,” Tarillion said tensely.
“Do something unexpected,” said Conrad. “If they want me alive—then they want the Lusus intact. Do something stupid.”
The Lusus abruptly changed tactics, flying directly into the fray. Surprised, the small fighters scattered around the Lusus. It was exactly as Conrad anticipated. They’d been given strict orders not to damage Tarillion’s ship—at least, not too much.
They swept up alongside the floating Oro.
As Conrad held his breath, his head buzzing, he saw the small ship’s shape lock into position.
“We’ve got her,” said Tarillion.
Conrad clutched the cage and closed his eyes with relief. It was only for a moment. Now, he had to stay conscious long enough for the Lusus to reach the portal.
“Jira. I want to talk with her,” he slurred unsteadily. His balance and focus were starting to disappear again. The stims were wearing off.
Hang on, hang on, hang on. This is just like a bad bender from the Academy days. His lip twisted in a weak smile. Or our first night on New Crozet. I remember that.
“The comm line’s open on our end,” said Armas. “No guarantee that her system’s working.”
The Lusus was making its final flight towards the portal. The Oro Yurei continued to leak plasma but its physical body was fixed in a tractor beam, being dragged alongside the Lusus. The fighters hovered nearby, daring occasionally to swoop at the Oro but never daring to fire directly at the Lusus.
He could hear Tarillion talking quickly and steadily, giving orders to his crew.
They were almost there.
Suddenly a loud crack sounded, and the Lusus shook around them.
“They’re serious now,” Tarillion said. “The Arbiter’s took a shot at us. The admiral’s feeling angry, I expect.”
Not long now. He could almost sense it drawing closer—the reassuring dark of the portal.
Conrad looked at the holographic display. The Arbiter was gaining on them, as were the frigate and two destroyers. The battle-ready warships were edging out ahead of the Arbiter, their fighters swarming around them. There was no way that they could catch up to the Lusus, he assured himself. Patrol ships like the Lusus were the fastest ship in the fleet—
The frigate jumped forward in an abrupt burst of speed. Conrad stiffened as much as his pain-wracked body would allow. It didn’t jump far enough to ensnare the Lusus in a tractor beam, but they were now within range of the frigate’s guns.
What was Karsath—
A series of bright flashes overtook the hologram for a split second.
The Lusus rocked again. Conrad stared in shock. The frigate had fired directly on the Lusus—
“No,” he said, the word going sour in his mouth.
“We can’t stop,” said Tarillion. “Almost there—”
As he watched, the Oro Yurei slipped away from the Lusus, sliding back as if it was caught in an invisible river. Its rear nacelle sparked and exploded.
The Oro fell apart before his eyes.
Numb shock faded quickly into blind anger.
As the Lusus entered the portal, he howled. Darkspace swirled around him. There was no calm, no center.
The portal channeled his pain and fury. It was nothing now but a tool to amplify his frenzy.
The dark mouth portal changed. It exploded outwards.
Conrad saw none of it. There was no more reason or logic or control, only blind feeling. The portal metastasized violently.
Caught in the wake of his rage, the Imperial ships in pursuit splintered into nothingness.
Tarillion exhaled as the portal swallowed them up, praying to the Lords of the Dark to take them. Qloe, he thought wistfully. If by chance you have any pull with the Lords ... put in a kind word for us ...
Their momentum propelled them across the portal’s boundary.
The prayer was still on his lips when he realized that something was wrong. He opened his eyes.
No, they were already open. Where am I?
He was on the bridge of the Lusus. But it was dark, a world of shadows, as if color and depth had disappeared from reality. It rippled, as if to confirm his sense that nothing here was right.
Everything seemed to be floating. He felt trapped. His crewmen didn’t move; they were frozen, their eyes unseeing. Tarillion’s gaze came to rest on the silver cage before him. Conrad stood there, his body tense with rage. Around him the darkness seemed to pulse with energy, swirling around the boy within the cage.
Conrad was unstable.
Tarillion sensed it by instinct. The fury that poured off him was almost tangible, something that he could feel, like a burning fire. There was physical pain and then something deeper—something worse.
This isn’t good.
Around them the universe seemed to expand and collapse in on itself, its movement irregular and violent.
It’s him, Tarillion realized. We’re trapped here. Lords—we’re all going to die because of him.
He lunged forward, unstea
dy. No one else on the bridge seemed to be conscious or free.
The gift of the Locc, he thought dimly. I always wondered what it was. This must be it. I can see. I can move in whatever this place is.
He moved towards the cage, through the roiling waves of the boy’s emotions. Conrad’s back was turned to him. Tarillion reached out, pushing through, a hand extended.
Is here even here? He was vaguely aware that he was thinking in nonsense and riddles.
A shock bolted through his body as his fingers grazed Conrad’s temple.
Oh, he gasped, fighting the urge to yank his hand away.
Tarillion sensed the boy’s power. It was as if he’d submerged his body into pure electricity.
This is what Karsath was after. All this. Even if he didn't know the extent of it, he knew it was there.
Conrad twisted his head. He was suddenly aware of Tarillion’s presence. There was a flash of surprise on his face. The turbulence around them lessened for a moment, then surged again as his eyes narrowed.
The space around the cage warped. Tarillion felt his body bending with it, in a way that shouldn’t have been possible.
This is his mind, he realized. Conrad’s mind and the strange reality within the portal were intertwined. Tarillion could feel the boy’s chaotic emotions. He could almost think what Conrad was thinking.
But he’d guessed right—Conrad had no restraint or mastery. The fury burned, out of control. Suddenly, the universe contracted and expanded again, centering on Conrad.
Tarillion flinched. He caught himself. All his life he’d resented the idea that fate or the Lords or anything but pure entropy controlled his existence. Up until he met the Nu, the universe seemed to prove him right. But now ...
Maybe this is why the Locc put me in his path. To save him with this gift.
He tried to swallow, but his body seemed less and less real. Now: what would stop the boy from destroying everything?
Tarillion thought of Qloe, and what she would tell him. What saves anybody? Whatever that person loves ...
Abruptly, Conrad’s hand darted towards him. He grabbed Tarillion’s wrist.
Sanctuary's Gambit: The Darkspace Saga Book 2 Page 23