by Drew Avera
“Thank you for saving my brother,” Brendle said as he stepped forward, rubbing at his wrists from where his restraints had dug into his skin.
She looked up at him, lifting her weapon defensively, causing him to stop dead in his tracks.
“If you want to show your appreciation, you will surrender this ship to my people,” she said, all of her senses seeming to return to her at once.
Brendle took a step back, hands raised as the Lechun men fell in behind him. Her people surrounded them, guns drawn towards their new targets. “I don’t understand, I thought you wanted us to work together,” Brendle said, panic in his voice.
“You had your opportunity to help us. Now, we’re helping ourselves. Disembark the ship and I won’t shoot you where you stand,” she said.
“I—” Brendle began.
“I said do it now,” she replied, her eyes wide and severe.
“You heard her, get off the ship,” Beva said, reinforcing her order. “And drag these bodies off with you. We don’t want the smell of rotting corpses on our ship.”
She watched as Brendle looked at his men. They had nowhere to go and were outnumbered. As far as she was concerned, they should be thankful to be alive.
But would they see it the same way?
That was the question that made her tighten her grip on her weapon as her finger slipped into the trigger guard, ready to fire.
Thirty-Seven
Brendle
There was no gentle way to put it; the ship was lost.
As he looked at the dead bodies sprawled on the deck of his ship, he knew he was outnumbered and outgunned. Despite everything he and his crew had gone through, it all came down to one hellacious day and the worst round of bad luck he’d encountered in his life. “So, just because we declined the original offer, you’re going to steal our ship? That doesn’t strike me as the right way to conduct business if you want to be taken seriously.” Brendle said.
Silhouetted by the glowing lights of the cargo bay ramp, Gen stepped forward, her eyes blazing with a fierceness he did not recognize before. “Be happy we took your ability to make stupid decisions away from you. Otherwise, you would be dead.”
“I don’t understand, Gen,” Malikea interjected. “I thought you wanted an alliance with us. We know how to pilot this ship. With a fully equipped weapons system, this is a formidable craft.”
“That’s just the point,” Brendle said. “They decided to take the ship now that it’s stocked. I don’t think they ever wanted to ally with us. They wanted to use us.”
Gen dropped her weapon and holstered it, but Beva and his men kept their weapons trained on them. “You’re so arrogant, Mr. Quinn. Do you know that? When Malikea made the offer to us, I wanted to accept, to prevent the spilled blood that a true revolution would cause. But your decision to say no caused this. Look at your people, face-down in their blood, their lives slain for a lost cause. Pilatians will rule ourselves.”
Gen’s words stung as they fell on him. “I’m sorry, but I thought I could handle the situation without making it appear I was taking sides.”
Gen scoffed. “Everyone on this ship knows what side you chose, Mr. Quinn. Now, leave my ship, or face the same fate as Princess Herma’s men.”
Brendle looked to his crew, downtrodden and defeated by two enemies in a single day. She’s right, he thought, I brought this on us. “You win,” he said, “The ship is yours.”
His response mustered a cold glare from Deis and Malikea, but they stayed silent.
Gen nodded and stepped out of the way of the ramp for them to depart.
“You can remove the bodies yourself,” Brendle said as he walked past, shoving his hands into his pockets and not looking back. He heard the sound of footsteps fall in behind him, but he didn’t have to look back to know it was his crew.
“How could you give up so easily?” Deis asked as they continued to tread away from the Replicade.
Brendle stopped at one of the vehicles and opened the door. “Pedero will think we’re dead, we need to find another ship and get off this station. Hop in.” He slammed the door closed and waited for the Lechun men to climb in.
“That still doesn’t explain why you gave up the ship,” Deis continued as he strapped into his seat.
“It wasn’t easy, but I doubt they will be able to get Pilot to release custody to them. They won’t be able to take off so the Replicade is nothing more than a static display of a warship without us on it. I’d say we’re in a good position to collect Anki and get out of here before people start shooting.”
“Your plan is to abandon the ship?” Malikea asked.
“In a manner of speaking? Yes. Hopefully it isn’t lost to us forever, but I don’t have the passion to try and wrench it from someone’s hands who could just as easily shoot us to keep it.”
He thought about what he was saying and how hopeless the situation sounded. It made him sick to know the home he shared with Anki for over a year was now gone, but he had to have faith that they could find another way.
He pressed the accelerator and the vehicle darted off, the back end of it shifting from side to side as it fought to maintain traction. Having not driven a vehicle in years, it was difficult to rely on muscle memory.
“What do you think Anki will say?” Deis asked, breaking the silence as they vehicle sped towards the city.
“That’s what I keep asking myself, but I don’t think she will be happy.”
“That’s not an answer,” Deis replied.
Brendle sighed, not looking at his friend and brother. “I think her anger towards me will drive a wedge between us. This will make twice that I made a decision without her and one that she will not like. I think she will tell me it’s over.”
Deis reclined back in his seat, his face ashen. “I hate to say it, Captain. But I think you’re right.”
Silence fell once again, leaving Brendle to the treacherous reaches of his own mind. There was no way to come back from the situation without causing more harm. That was the damnable thing about it. Still, Deis’s words echoes between his ears, massaging their way into his heart.
Me too, Brendle thought.
Me too.
Thirty-Eight
Crase
Pila looked larger as they orbited the station. If not for the circumstances surrounding his crews’ involvement centering around blackmailing him with Tesera’s life in the balance, he could not have imagined a more fitting climax to his journey towards reclaiming the Replicade. For Crase, as harsh as it sounded, things were shaping up to be worth it all.
“This is the PNN Eruga requesting permission to enter atmosphere and land,” Esma said into the radio next to Crase. The man did a good job of disguising his voice, taking on an accent that hid his distinctly Greshian accent. Of course, once they got a look of his pale skin, they would know who they were dealing with. At that point, it would be too late.
“Eruga, our records say you were destroyed during the attack. How is it you’re returning to Pila if you were turned into space dust?” The voice on the other side of the com sounded surprised—and nervous.
“Ground support, I don’t know where you received your information, but this ship has been in overhaul on Farax for the better part of two cycles. We haven’t been home since before the attack; gods rest their souls.” Esma made a smirk that almost made Crase chortle as he drove the ship nearer the Pilatian station.
“Standby, Eruga. I’ll ask for clearance,” the voice said.
Esma cut off the hot-mic and turned to Crase. “Do you think they’re buying it?”
Crase shrugged. “The transponder was untampered with. They have no reason to believe we are not who we say we are. For all they know, we are a lost asset returning home. If I was in charge, I would be elated to have a ship for defensive posture. Denying our access would be a step backwards from a military standpoint.”
Esma nodded, but said nothing, holding the mic in his hand as he waited for the ground support to r
eturn. He didn’t have to wait long.
“Eruga, you have permission to land. You can set your ship on the southern most landing zone. There’s a spot large enough to accommodate you. We shall send a vehicle to collect your crew.”
“Affirmative, Eruga will land in the southern most zone and standby for a vehicle.”
“Welcome home, Eruga.”
“Thank you, ground support, it’s good to be back.” Esma smiled as he set the mic down, glaring at Crase wickedly. “How about that?”
“The vehicle may come with armed guards if they don’t believe we are who we say we are. We need to be prepared for that,” Crase said.
“We have weapons; it shouldn’t be an issue. Besides, how many troops do you think they have with most of their population destroyed with their home world?”
“I don’t want to be caught off guard is all,” Crase replied as he approached the station, the Eruga close to entering atmosphere. He keyed up the ship’s communication system and spoke. “We’re less than a minute from entering atmosphere. If you’re not strapped in, then it was nice knowing you.” He was lying about the last part, but it felt right to say it.
“Where do you think the Replicade is located?” Esma asked as he tightened his restraints.
Crase kept his focus on the monitors as the ship hit turbulence. “In a perfect world we’ll set down right next to her.”
“And in an imperfect world?”
Crase enlarged the monitor displaying the landing area and pointed at a large vessel four times the size of anything else on the screen. “That won’t be the case today, Esma. Meet the Replicade.”
With his word, a smile stretched across his face as the thought of revenge caused his heart to race. The best part was the crew had no idea he was coming.
It will only make their death more satisfying with the surprised look on their stupid faces, he thought. Finally, I’ll have what’s mine.
Epilogue
Emperor Direla
The sunrises on Greshia always made him smile. This day would be no different. For more than four decades, his power stretched across the galaxy. Pockets of rebellious forces proved no match for his fleet and planet killing ships, and with children spread across the expanse, it was only a matter of time before he owned the known universe.
Still, there was cause for concern. Namely, his daughter Herma exiling herself on a station in the Pilatian sector. Her bleeding heart seeking to rectify the means by which his power grew. She knew, as he did, that he would not lift a finger that could bring harm to her. But that did not mean he would not find a way to make the survivors of that world remember to whom they would serve.
Or die.
“Emperor, I have news to report,” Calias said as he entered. The man was short, balding in a way that made him seem older than his age, but his loyalty to the crown went unmatched. The man held a tablet in his hands in front of him like a shield.
“What is it, Calias? I was watching the horizon as a new day dawned on my kingdom.”
“There’s news from your daughter,” the man said meekly.
“What of Herma? Is she in danger?” Direla turned to his most trusted advisor.
“No, Emperor. It’s Arterius.”
“I’m surprised to hear from her. Isn’t she deployed on one of my ships?”
“Indeed. She sends word that the King Slayer was breeched by one of Haranger’s men. They narrowly escaped with their lives.”
“So, the miserable bastard is going after my daughter, is he?” Direla tightened his grip on the railing of the balcony and bit his tongue. The problem with being royalty is that an open mouth revealed too much of the person speaking. He did not want to show his weakness, the love of his children, even if the only witness was the closest thing to a friend he had.
“I wish it was as simple as that,” Calias replied, swallowing hard as Direla’s eyes darted towards him. “It appears the captain of that ship was once one of Haranger’s men as well. Ilium Gyl defected and Arterius says he is loyal to the crown; not a threat.”
Direla sighed. “She is too willing to accept a lie if it gives her what she wants. She’s just like her mother. This Ilium Gyl, what history does he have within my Navy?”
“He was commissioned and served the last several years on the Telran as the security officer. He served a brief stint on a scout ship before finding his way onboard the King Slayer. The death of the captain resulted in his promotion.”
Direla turned to Calias and folded his arms over his chest as the morning light glistened over the dewy ground below. “Arte believes he is not a threat. Should we take her word, or should we remove him before he turns?” He knew what answer he wanted to hear, but he trusted Calias enough to consider a different opinion. Fortunately, his servant did not disappoint.
“It is my opinion that anyone who has shown loyalty to the traitor Haranger is an enemy to the crown. He may have turned his back on his former employer, but that does not negate the fact he sent a portion of his life in defiance to your rule, Emperor.”
Direla smiled. “Do you believe that my daughter feels this way about him because of a professional or personal relationship?”
Calias frowned, his face reddening before he spoke. “She says she loves him, sir.”
Like a kick to the gut, Direla’s composure weakened. He hesitated to speak but could not contain himself. “Yet again, Arte proves she is more like her mother than I. Making decisions of the heart is not the best way to decide the future of our empire. Keep tabs on the situation. I will give her her heart’s desire, but if Gyl proves to be someone we cannot trust, I want his head.”
“Very well, Emperor. It shall be done.”
“And send her a message that I’m onto her. I don’t want her thinking she is pulling anything over on me. Perhaps knowing his life is on the line will convince her to end her infatuation or ensure he does not step out of bounds.”
“Yes, Emperor.” Calias turned and walked away, leaving Emperor Direla alone once again. The light of the sun already beamed higher in the horizon, the purplish hue fading to a muted pink.
“I missed it,” he whispered under his breath. “For the first time in years, I missed the sunrise.”
Direla stepped away from the balcony and entered his room. On the far wall, a portrait of his family covered from corner to corner. All thirty of his children smiling, each born of a different mother. Of all his children, the sons were the only ones who obeyed him without question. His daughters, each seemed to take his patience for granted.
But it was an opportunity to learn. His own father taught him that. Each generation has something more to offer than the previous one. Herma had unapologetic compassion. Arterius had unbridled passion and the desire to strike out on her own. Both would be the death of him, but that was the burden of being a father.
Direla fell into a chair and gazed at the image of Arte, her dark hair cropped above her shoulders. She picked her own destiny, to go undercover on a planet killer to see firsthand what her father’s destiny required.
“So what if she’s not just like me,” he said to himself. “She is the maker of her own destiny. I just hope she seizes it before letting it slip through her fingers. If anything, the loss of her mother should have taught her that. If not, the loss of her newfound love will.”
With that thought, his smile returned.
From the Author
Thank you for taking the time to read Regime Change. I hope you enjoyed it and will post a favorable review. If you’re not primed for some action going into the next book, then you best prepare yourself now. With the Replicade in the hands of someone else, and the pending threat of Crase Tuin coming to reclaim what is his, there’s a lot at stake. Will the price of freedom prove to be too much when the resistance learns they must pay with their lives? Hopefully you’re as surprised as to the identity of Lieutenant Stavis as I was when I wrote it. I was looking for a way to make the stakes higher. What will happen if Ilium learns the
truth?
There’s much more to discover as the story gets bigger. How much bigger?
Find out in Darker Waters, coming soon!
Keep up with me at www.drewavera.com and join my newsletter for information regarding new releases and deals.
Also by Drew Avera
The Alorian Wars
Broken Worlds
Deadly Refuge
Mutiny Rising
Shadow Empire
Regime Change
Darker Waters (2018)
Orbital Decay (Prequel)
The Dead Planet Series
Exodus
Verity
Endgame
The Prospect (Prequel)
Chancerian
Darkest Beyond
Standalones and Box Sets
Scavengers
Nation Divided
Mississippi Burning
Darker Tomorrow (5 Book Box Set)
The Alorian Wars (Vol 1)
The Complete Dead Planet Series
Glitch