He walked away.
Fitz could imagine the clamor of people vying to possess that single piece of a great hero. The government would find some way to turn the relic to its advantage. Wolf was right. He knew her better than anyone left alive and he believed her spirit would find peace here on this forgotten world.
She turned and followed him, leaving all her dreams in the burned-out room with that single piece of plexisteel.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Fitz stepped out of the destroyed farmhouse and pushed through the abandoned garden, the dried stalks crunching under her feet. The cold and desolation around her echoed the emptiness inside. Wolf waited for her at the rundown bridge, picking pebbles out of the crumbling stonework.
“You expected to find her alive,” she said.
He turned a wistful smile toward her. “Of course. You can’t kill a legend. I might not have thought about her much over the years, but I imagined her out there somewhere kicking ass and bossing people around. I never expected her to die. Maybe there’s hope for me yet.”
He sighed, his smile wry. “Once he located her, Ashcraft couldn’t afford to let Ari live. Her claim to the throne trumped his, plus she’d have the popular support. One of the factions he’d alienated would find a way to turn that against him—someone like you and Kiernan.”
Fitz leaned her head against his arm. “Well, that’s blown out the airlock now. I wonder if this explains the attacks on you.”
He shot her a puzzled glance. “What do you mean?”
“Ashcraft sent Tritico to execute her and then came after you to tidy up the loose ends.”
“If that were the case, they would have tried to kill me years ago, when this happened.” He looked back at the melted building. “No, I suspect the attacks on me were personal for Jan.”
“I thought you were friends.”
“Were.” He stressed the word. “The last time we met, he was a mid-level administrator with DIS and tried to recruit me as an independent operative. He needed someone to watch out for Imperial interests in the Alliance and remove potential difficulties before they blew up into real problems. In other words, an assassin. He got a little miffed when I turned him down, said I owed him because I’d screwed up his last plan.”
Wolf took a deep breath and huffed it out in a cloud of vapor. “I wasn’t Emperor Rantha’s original choice for Triumvir. First Admiral of the Fleet Tarrwyn was front-runner, but two days before his appointment, he put a pistol in his mouth and blew his brains out. The investigators found documents pointing to lucrative deals with a corrupt contractor, substandard equipment and a secret bank account.
“Jan explained to me how he’d set up Tarrwyn, manufactured the note, the data files and the bank account. He didn’t say as much, but I suspected he might have helped with the suicide.”
“He wanted you to be Triumvir,” Fitz said. “Why?”
“In a few months, a few years, Rantha would have become ill. Or have had an accident. Under the circumstances, no one would have questioned my becoming Emperor. And Jan planned to be military Triumvir. Working together, we’d have a two-thirds majority on the Triumvirate, allowing us to do pretty much whatever we wanted.” He tossed a handful of stones into the stream and scrubbed his hands on his pants. “At least, until I had an accident.”
Fitz cursed. “There’s always been speculation on whether Rantha’s death in the crash of the royal yacht was an accident or a well-disguised assassination.”
“Yes, curious, isn’t it? And wasn’t that when Ashcraft came to power?” Wolf thought a moment. “Did you ever hear of Interstellar Campaign?”
“It was an old strategy game, wasn’t it?”
He nodded. “We played it, Jan and I, when we were roommates at the academy, but I hardly ever beat him. He accused me of maneuvering my pieces with the typical field commander’s sentimental regard for his troops. Jan, on the other hand, ruthlessly manipulated his assets, letting them take the fire while he stayed in the shadows pulling their strings—the consummate puppet master. Our matches would end with me capturing all his game pieces, but he always managed to walk away wearing the crown.”
“You think that’s what he’s doing now, setting himself up to seize the throne?”
“Let’s just say, if I were Ashcraft, I wouldn’t sleep well.”
“So I guess in a rather convoluted way, slugging the Emperor saved your life.”
“Ironic, since that argument was about Ari.” He gave her a sheepish smile before explaining. “Emperor Rantha and I didn’t like each other. Ari was having an affair with him when she and I first met, so there was always this struggle for dominance, like two tomcats fighting over a calico in heat. During my first council meeting as Triumvir, he made a scathing remark about Ari’s moral judgment.”
Fitz smiled. “And then you decked him. You threw away your career defending the honor of a woman who’d dumped you years before.”
“Yes. Childish, wasn’t it?”
“No, I think that’s kind of sweet.”
An eerie undulation echoed from the forest. Wolf’s head jerked up, scanning the darkening sky. “What was that?”
“Probably just some animal.”
“Let’s get back to the ship. Until we find out what kind of predators come out at night, we need to be inside after dark.”
They washed the ash from their faces in the stream, the icy water stinging Fitz’s skin like needles and setting her teeth to chattering. Predators wouldn’t be the only danger they’d face outside tonight. It was damn cold and getting colder.
As they strode through the village, they shared the last of the coffee, passing the thermal bottle back and forth. The gloom deepened as the abandoned road entered the forest. They began to jog, then run. The sun dropped behind the mountain, the cold and darkness deepening, and Fitz’s night vision adjusted to its highest setting.
She followed Wolf, keeping her eyes on the pale flash of his braid ahead of her. He must be running flat out because she had to push into the beginning stages of HK to keep up with him. He dodged around rocks and seedlings in the road. When they reached the fallen tree, he cleared it without breaking stride. Fitz stumbled, her foot catching on the trunk, and she fought to keep her balance. What she’d just seen was impossible. For a Normal.
She dragged him to a stop and pulled his face down to stare into his eyes. The pupils were huge, engulfing the iris, dilated to let in every bit of light. Like hers. It made sense now. His uncanny strength and almost superhuman quickness.
“You’re augmented.”
“FitzWarren, can’t this wait? We need to get back to the ship.”
“You’ve been lying to me. I want the truth.” She shook him.
“I’ve had some…modifications.”
“How could you have survived this long with the augmentations?”
“I was a prototype.”
“A prototype? Like some new version of a speeder or shuttle?”
He nodded. “Nothing as extensive as your augs. A little quicker, stronger, with some visual enhancements. Not so much that my body couldn’t tolerate it.”
She slid her hand up the back of his neck, searching for the bulge of the spike’s housing, but found only a flat metal disc inside a low knurled ring. Small and easy to miss, which she had during their lovemaking.
“I haven’t actually been lying,” he protested. “Just not sharing the entire truth.”
“Same difference. A lie by omission is still a lie. You didn’t trust me.”
His eyes darted to either side, searching. “I didn’t, not at first, but I do now. It’s just… I told you the dangers for an augie in the Midworlds. I’ve spent years hiding what I am, always careful of who I allowed close. I promise, I’ll explain it all to you, but back at the ship. We need to get out of these woods. Something’s not bloody right here. I jus
t don’t know…” He scanned their surrounding again. Fitz felt the hair on her arms stand erect at his nervousness.
She pulled his face back to hers. “You’re not putting me off, are you? It’s just the two of us now. We have to depend on each other. I have to know I can trust you and that you trust me.”
“I’ll explain. At the ship. Can we go now, please?”
“You promise?”
“Yes.”
“Everything?”
He squeezed his eyes shut, hesitating for a few seconds, then nodded. “Everything.”
Without the need to hide his abilities, Wolf set a rapid pace, far beyond the capabilities of a normal human. If he was running flat out—and Fitz suspected he was—she was quicker but she fell behind and let him take the lead. When they reached the edge of the abandoned vineyard, he stumbled to a stop, breathing hard, apparently lacking her cardiopulmonary modifications.
Without light pollution, the galactic arm bridged the sky in a cold river of stars. The sharp air carried a metallic clatter from further down the field. Lights flickered at Lizzy’s location, probably the ship’s maintenance-bots repairing the external sensors and communication equipment.
“Danger. Don’t come back here.” Fitz tried to hold on to that thought, but Wolf interrupted.
“What is that smell?” He turned in a slow circle, head up, nostrils flaring as he tested the air.
Fitz sampled and categorized the scents. The dark earth fragrance of the land, the resinous tang of tree sap and an odor that sent her mind reeling back to childhood. She was once again in the Warren surrounded by the tiny room she’d shared with her druggie mother. It was filthy, hot as hell, and infested with roaches, rats and gerbats. She could remember jolting out of sleep screaming as they crawled on her face.
“It reminds me of cockroaches,” she said.
Wolf’s eyes widened. “Oh, merciful Gods, no.”
Ice filled Fitz’s stomach at the horror on his features.
“Tzrakas,” he hissed. “I’d hoped to never smell that stench again.”
“But how? Why here?”
He ignored her questions, pulling her diagonally across the vineyard, ducking under vines and dashing through breaks in the rows. “They’ll come at us from the trees. We need to get to the middle of the field to give us time to see them coming.”
Fitz scanned around. “I don’t see anything in infrared.”
“They don’t show up on IR. They’re not warm-blooded, and their chitin masks what little body heat they generate. They don’t like cold temperatures though, so they’ll be sluggish. At least that’s in our favor. When I tell you to run, head for the ship and don’t hold anything back. Run like all Hell’s after you, because it will be. Seal her up and don’t let anything or anyone inside.”
“But what about you?”
“Don’t worry about me. They’ll only kill me. It’s you they’re after.”
“Don’t come back to the ship. It’s a trap.”
“Wait, did you hear…?” She saw movement at the edge of the trees, and her tongue froze.
Chitinous legs scuttled at impossible angles in the darkness and a long whip-like tail thrashed. Starlight glinted from the edge of bladed arms held aloft. Poles snapped and vines tore from the ground as the monstrosity careened through the vegetation, bearing down on them with the inevitability of a meteor strike.
This was sluggish?
“Run.” He shoved her ahead of him.
Her systems kicked into combat mode as she raced between the rows of vines. She listened for his footsteps behind her. They weren’t there. She slid to a stop, whirled.
He hadn’t moved, but stood, waiting as that terror bore down on him. Fitz screamed, starting back for him. He held up an open hand, signaling her to halt. His thumb pinned two slender thermite grenades against his palm. He was going to kill himself and take that thing with him so she could escape. She couldn’t let him do that.
He blurred into movement, arm coming up and around, releasing the grenades at the top of the arc. They spun into the darkness. Twin geysers of flame erupted on either side of the Tzraka, bracketing it. Bright pain spiked Fitz’s eyes as her night vision overloaded.
Blinking away the afterimages, she saw the creature writhing in the flames. It screeched and fluted like an insane composer’s nightmare, thrashing and tearing vines out of the ground, beating the earth until only the crackle of flames remained.
“Next time I order you to run, you chufting do it. Do you understand?” Wolf pushed her into a sprint. There was brightness around their ship. The maintenance-bots wouldn’t need so many lights to repair the hull.
A Tzraka erupted out of the ground in front of her, the black blade slashing down. She dodged back, grateful for all of Wolf’s incessant weapon drills. She needed a sword, but the only thing at hand was length of wood. She grabbed it and parried the blade, but the Tzraka sliced through the pole easily, nearly taking her hand off.
Wolf’s slug thrower thundered, followed by the pop of the round piercing chitin. The creature whirled to face its new tormenter. Fitz drew her pistol and fired. Even at its highest setting, the Acton had little effect on its tough carapace.
Wolf danced out of range of the blades, his weapon roared again and again, having no more effect than hers. The brain case was behind the second set of legs, so she had to force the Tzraka to rear so he could make the shot. If she couldn’t get through the thing’s tough shell, perhaps its eyes were vulnerable. She held her weapon’s beam on one of the faceted ocular organs. The creature’s whistle of agony rose beyond the level of human hearing until it was only a jagged pain in her head.
The Tzraka reared, spun back to face her and the whip of its tail snapped around. She dived for the ground and hit hard. The pistol flew from her hand, but she’d given Wolf the opening he needed. Two slugs ripped through the creature’s brain. It rolled onto its back, emitting the same fluting death rattle as the other one, its legs contracting like a crushed spider. It twitched once and stilled.
Fitz scrabbled up and dashed for the ship with Wolf behind her. She half expected another of the monstrosities to rise up and block her path. Lights flashed on ahead of her, illuminating two ships parked beside Lizzy. One was a large transport, the other a Vimana class gunship. Human forms moved around them, misshaped by combat armor.
The Gold Dragons. Major Donkenny had made it out and come after them.
“No, no, NO, Boss Lady.”
She skidded to a stop as the panicked words exploded inside her head. “Jumper?”
The dull green uniforms and distinctive peaked helmets identified the soldiers as Imperial Special Forces. One man stepped forward wearing a black SpecOp uniform, a pulse-rifle slung in the crook of his arm.
“Tritico’s going to be royally pissed that you killed his Tzraka, Kimmie.” The light struck the side of his face, revealing a tracery of tattoos.
“I’m getting kind of tired of you following me around, particularly with that piece of shit merc buddy of yours. I think it’s long past time to end this.” Jeferi Hiruko raised his weapon and fired just as Wolf stepped in front of her.
Chapter Twenty-Five
A spray of hot blood splattered across Fitz’s face as Wolf’s body crashed into her, taking them both down. She scrambled to his side, trying not to look at his chest. Pulse-rifles were designed to punch through body armor; their effect on unprotected flesh was devastating. His eyes were wide, staring beyond her.
“Why did you do that?” she shouted, seizing his face in her hands. “I told you… I told you not to do that. I never wanted you to die for me.” Guilt and pain and anger consumed her, fired by Jumper’s savage wail of anguish ripping through her mind.
“This is my fault, all my fault. I should never have asked you to come with me.”
“Fitz…” Wolf sucked in a breath a
nd sunk his teeth into his lower lip. “Fitz. Warren.” He found the strength to add a snap to the name, but it took all he had and she had to lean close to hear his hoarse mutter. “Behind you.”
The hot barrel of a rifle brushed the back of her neck. She surged to her feet in a blur, batting it aside, ripping the weapon from Hiruko’s hands and smashing the stock into his jaw.
One of the Imperials grabbed her from behind, pinning her arms with the force only another augie could possess. A second man twisted the rifle out of her grip, punching her in the stomach, then the jaw. He was unaugmented and, with the wild surge of adrenaline rushing through her blood, she hardly felt it. She lashed out, her boot crushing her attacker’s armored crotch protector, mangling the vulnerable tissue underneath. She pitched the augie over her shoulder, slamming him to the ground. A laser bolt sizzled past her face, and she reached inside her jacket as she spun toward her attacker. The holster was empty. The Acton had been lost when the Tzraka turned on her. Fitz charged the rifleman, and like any Normal who sees an augie bearing down on him, the soldier froze—only a fraction of a second—but that was all she needed. She plowed into him, driving the heel of her hand into his nose.
Dazed in the wake of her wild path of destruction through them, the remaining troopers reacted sluggishly, but within seconds their training would kick in, jolting them back into the conflict. Her combat system evaluated each opponent, their threat and location, plotted actions and fed her probable scenarios. They all ended one way—with her destruction. Only one question remained. Who would pay for Wolf’s death? She had time for a single action, so it had to be the most important. Jeferi Hiruko would not escape her vengeance a second time.
Her target hobbled for the safety of the gunship. As he reached it, two men stepped from the crew compartment. The larger of the pair seemed to blink out of existence then flickered back into sight, barely a meter in front of her. She back peddled, opening the distance between them, but for the moment, he only watched, waiting with a predator’s patience.
A Hero for the Empire: The Dragon's Bidding, Book 1 Page 20