Zealot

by Cyndi Friberg

Garin discarded his reserve like a cheap costume as hatred shaped his expression. “You have mismanaged this planet to the brink of ruin. I will not stand back and watch as you finish the job.”

  “That’s treason!” Quinton still sounded more confused than infuriated.

  Garin ignored the outburst and presented his next charge. “Your treatment of the battle born will be tolerated no longer. Every Rodyte born of a war bride is now under my protection.”

  A muttered “yes” escaped one of the guards, but Zilor wasn’t sure which one. Tension mounted, crackling in the air just waiting for a spark to ignite the bonfire.

  “You are unworthy of rule,” Garin’s voice grew in strength and volume as he advanced on the weaker man. “I am taking command of the RPDF. From this day forth, they will obey only me.”

  “You’re a dead man,” Quinton snarled, but none of his guards moved. After speaking such slander against a crown stirate, Garin should be on his knees with pulse pistols targeting all of his major organs.

  “Now,” Garin growled the word, setting Zilor and Danvier in motion.

  With a precision acquired through hours of practice, flexblades materialized in Garin’s and Zilor’s hands. Zilor morphed his blade from dagger to long, lethal sword as he moved into position at his brother’s back. Garin’s blade smoothly extended into Zilor’s peripheral vision.

  “Seize them, you fools!” Quinton screamed as he scurried off to one side.

  Four guards responded while the other four remained where they were in silent support of Garin’s coup.

  Zilor swung his flexblade at the nearest guard. The man jumped back with agile grace as his companion lunged. Zilor kicked the second guard in the stomach then slammed his elbow into his jaw as he doubled over. The first guard raised his pulse pistol, the movement slow, reluctant. Zilor lashed out with his left forearm, knocking the weapon from the guard’s hand without causing him any real damage. The guard still had a sword, but he just stood there, waiting for Zilor to knock him out. Happy to oblige, Zilor punched him squarely in the jaw, expelling some of his aggravation.

  “All guards! To me, now!” Quinton’s panicked voice echoed off the domed ceiling.

  The guards were following orders, as they’d been conditioned to do, but it was obvious with every punch, every sluggish advance that their hearts weren’t in it.

  Garin quickly incapacitated one guard and engaged the other. Rather than blast Garin with his pulse pistol, the last guard drew his sword. Their blades clashed and clanked as they fought off each other’s attacks. This guard was putting up the only real fight and Garin was loving every minute of it.

  The thunder of approaching boots drew Zilor’s attention to the entrance. “Garin, enough. We have to go.”

  With obvious reluctance, Garin disabled the final guard and returned to Zilor’s side.

  “Danvier, now.” Zilor shouted as reinforcements threw open the doors.

  Danvier immediately streamed them to the Phantom One, leaving Zilor with the lingering image of Quinton cowering behind his throne.

  * * * * *

  Milanni paced the tiny office in the back corner of Club Norax, debating her next move. First and foremost, she needed to make sure her impulsive solution to the shitstorm surrounding Vinton Tandori had been successful. If any scrap of evidence remained to implicate her, she would need to disappear, buy a new identity and blend in with some backwater outpost perhaps for the rest of her life.

  That wasn’t going to happen. She reinforced the thought with a firm mental shake. She’d covered her tracks completely. The cabin had been engulfed in flames by the time she flew away—and that helpless dog was locked inside.

  A shiver tingled down her spine and she could barely swallow past the lump in her throat. She hadn’t set out to harm the creature. For that matter, she hadn’t meant to kill Vinton. But no one would care about her intentions. She’d done what had to be done and she refused to regret it now.

  A door slammed in another part of the club and then angry voices rumbled through the outer room.

  “I told you…”

  “I don’t give a… Go find her!”

  “That’s not possible. She…”

  Both voices were deep and insistent. One belonged to Enjis, her head of security. She didn’t recognize the other.

  Creeping toward the office door, she eased the barrier open just enough to reveal the outer room. Enjis stood near the main entrance, facing off with a tall, dark-haired man. At first glance the stranger looked enough like Vinton Tandori to get her heart pumping double time. But a familiar whine drew her gaze toward the floor and Milanni’s jaw dropped.

  At the stranger’s feet sat a yellow dog identical to the one she’d sacrificed on the altar of escape. It couldn’t be the same dog, and yet it looked the same, even sounded the same.

  What the hell was going on?

  “Stop wasting my time,” the stranger sneered. “Go get your mistress. Now.”

  Enjis drew a tiny pistol so quickly she wasn’t even sure where he’d had it stashed. “Get out. Now.” He perfectly mimicked the other man’s enraged tone. “Come back when you’ve learned some manners.”

  The situation seemed to be resolved and Milanni was about to close the door when the “dog” smoothly shifted forms. Its lean yellow body stretched and curved until a petite humanoid female stood beside the stranger. Milanni couldn’t see the creature’s face, but Enjis’s awestruck reaction said it all. With shapely limbs and hip-length blonde hair, the shifter was even stunning from the back.

  The shifter moved forward, long hair rippling around her like strands of sunlight. Her tiny hands slid up Enjis’s chest and she pushed to the balls of her feet, bringing her face closer to his.

  “Don’t make this unpleasant.” The shifter’s melodious voice flowed over Milanni, relaxing her muscles and dulling her mind. Doubtlessly, Enjis was experiencing the same phenomenon. “I have no desire to hurt you. I have unfinished business with your mistress. Where is she?”

  Fuck! In an instant Milanni’s peril became glaringly obvious. She hadn’t killed a helpless dog. She’d left a witness to her crimes alive and boiling with the need for retribution.

  She moved to the center of her office and pushed the panic button embedded in the center of her palm. As her office blurred and reality dimmed, her mind filled with questions. Where should she go? Most of the inhabitants of Outpost LA were hiding from the law, but few were actually violent. Would anyone risk their own freedom to shelter a murderer?

  She materialized on her ship and slipped onto the piolet’s chair. What now? She had nowhere to go, no one she could turn to for help.

  An image popped into her mind and she cringed.

  Akim Farmon would assist the devil if there was something in it for him. And she would be safe aboard his undetectable ship. She had information he would find valuable. Javin Aidentar was dead and the Integration Guild was going to great lengths to hide the fact. Surely, Akim could broker that tidbit into something worthwhile. But would it be enough? What else would he demand in exchange for his protection?

  There was only one way to find out.

  And the brutal truth was, she had no other option.

  * * * * *

  After a few minutes of celebration, Garin insisted that they get underway. They were protected by the Phantom One’s covert shields. Still, they refused to take unnecessary chances, so they jumped into hyperspace and settled into their seats for the six-hour trip back to Lunar 9.

  Once they were safely away, Garin checked the recording Danvier had concealed with the Phantom One’s covert shields. To everyone’s relief, every minute of the showdown had been captured in living color and sound. “I expected more of a fight,” Garin muttered as he made several copies of the video file.

  Zilor chuckled. “You sound disappointed.”

  “No, just surprised. Most of Quinton’s guards aren’t even battle born. Why didn’t they protect him?”

  “You don’t
need to be battle born to understand that Quinton has to go,” Danvier added.

  Garin shifted in his chair, folding his hands on his flat belly. Clearly, being a passenger was unfamiliar to him. “The challenge has been issued. There’s no taking it back. We’re officially outlaws.”

  They all knew this day was coming, but the yawning significance of what they’d just done felt heavier than Zilor expected. “Where’d you send the Undaunted and what’s our next move?”

  “Sedrik will continue on with our original mission as if he’s completely unaware of my actions. I can’t return to the Undaunted until after Quinton is replaced or I endanger my men. This way everyone has plausible deniability.”

  “That makes sense, but the Undaunted would sure make a statement when we reveal our presence to Earth.”

  Garin shot him an amused glance. “Any of our ships will make enough of a statement to light up their internet. We could call a press conference hinting that something important is about to happen then position the Phantom One over the White House while she’s still shielded. We’d appear out of nowhere with cameras rolling. Would that be dramatic enough?”

  “It’d be awe inspiring. Until they shot us out of the sky. At close range, even their primitive nucs can damage our smaller ships.”

  “Then we’ll land on the lawn and say, ‘Take me to your leader’.” He said the last few words in a cartoony voice.

  Zilor smiled, pleased that Garin could joke after declaring war on the status quo. No one took this conflict more seriously than Garin. Zilor was glad he wasn’t allowing himself to be completely consumed by it. “And our next step?”

  “Contact Nazerel and Morgan. The task force is in place for situations like ours, though I suspect they’ve never dealt with anything this far-reaching. With Nazerel involved, we have a better chance of being told the truth.”

  Zilor only nodded as his mind spun on ahead. They had come so far, yet they still had so far to go. It was intimidating and yet exhilarating.

  “How far have things progressed with you and Indigo?”

  Garin’s question jarred Zilor out of his contemplation. He studied Garin’s expression, but as usual Garin only revealed what he wanted others to see. “She still wears my mark, but I’ve yet to claim her. As ordered, sir.”

  Garin chuckled. “Raylon confirmed that her list was prioritized. Has she interacted with any of her other matches?”

  The gleam in Garin’s eyes warned Zilor that his brother knew the answer. Thanks to Raylon, Garin knew everything that went on at Lunar 9. “She hadn’t when I left. I think Raylon told Irron to wait until this was over. No need to set a new fire until the existing one was put out.”

  “I want to meet her.”

  The simple statement dried up Zilor’s mouth and paralyzed his chest. This was what he’d feared, what he’d dreaded, ever since he saw Garin’s name on her list. Forcing air into his lungs, he grumbled, “That’s your right.”

  Garin laughed, the sound grating across Zilor’s raw nerves. “I’m curious. Nothing more.”

  Danvier looked at Zilor meaningfully. Tell him. The insistent thought blared inside Zilor’s mind.

  If he talked with Raylon, he already knows, Zilor countered, carefully shielding their connection from Garin.

  He’s waiting for you to tell him. It’s his right to know.

  Pausing long enough to glare at Danvier, Zilor then turned and faced Garin. “Indigo is a direct descendant of the Tandoris.”

  “I know.” Garin grinned. “Raylon told me, but why didn’t you?”

  She’s mine! Though his soul screamed the claim, honor kept him silent. Garin was the one person Zilor couldn’t fight. If Garin’s curiosity led to interest, he could unravel Zilor’s world. He’d be forced to choose between love and honor. And honor was all he had left.

  He swallowed past his emotion tensed throat and whispered, “I should have. I apologize.”

  After a long tense pause, Garin asked, “Do you want her that badly?”

  “I’m in love with her.” He could have said more, but that should have been enough for a compassionate brother.

  Garin’s gaze softened and the barest hint of a smile teased the corners of his mouth. “My original assessment stands, Zilor. I don’t have time for a female.”

  Zilor’s panic melted, leaving a stunned sort of elation. Garin didn’t want her! Wait. Why didn’t Garin want her? Indigo was everything he needed in a mate, smart, beautiful, with a politically beneficial bloodline. “Please don’t be insulted by the question, but what’s wrong with you?”

  “If I were building an empire, bonding with Indigo would be the perfect strategic move. But I’m muscle. I’m a king maker. I have no desire to be king.”

  “Do you have a king in mind?” Danvier asked.

  Zilor had all but forgotten the harbinger was there. “Good question.”

  “I’m considering several candidates, but none have solidified my decision.”

  “And do you still want to meet Indigo?” Zilor grumbled.

  Garin laughed. “Am I not allowed to meet my brother’s future mate?”

  His teasing tone went a long way toward lightening Zilor’s mood. “I’d be more comfortable if you met her after I’d claimed her.”

  “I’m sure you would.” He chuckled again, but Zilor was finally able to smile. “Were you on her prioritized list?”

  “I’m her number one choice according to Sental’s program.”

  “Given your reaction, I’m not surprised.” Garin asked no more questions and Zilor wasn’t about to pester him further.

  The conversation moved on to lighter subjects and Zilor tried to relax.

  Mere seconds after they emerged from hyperspace, the Phantom One’s com system picked up a priority message being transmitted on a repeating loop. “I, Quinton Keire, Crown Stirate of Rodymia declare Garin, Bandar and Zilor Nox traitors to the crown and fugitives from the law. Anyone providing information resulting in their capture will receive one million standard credits. If they are apprehended and returned to Rodymia, dead or alive, the responsible party will receive five million credits. I also emphasize that the battle born rebellion is high treason. Anyone participating in this insurrection shall be penalized to the full extent of the law.”

  “That didn’t take long,” Garin muttered.

  “Bandar wasn’t even there,” Zilor objected. “This is ridiculous.”

  “Ridiculous is Quinton’s specialty. This isn’t even surprising. I knew he’d react. I just figured it wouldn’t happen until after we posted the recording of his humiliation.”

  They arrived at Lunar 9 half an hour later and docked across from the Crusader. The hatch opened and Zilor tensed. Raylon and Indigo were on the concourse waiting for them.

  Danvier descended first, obviously in a hurry to check on his sister.

  Garin flashed a knowing smile as he brushed past Zilor and climbed down the steep stairs leading to the walkway.

  “Did everything go as planned?” Raylon asked in a bright, cheerful tone.

  “Smooth as glass,” Garin assured him.

  Zilor descended just in time to see Raylon’s disgruntled face. “I hate being left behind.”

  “There will be plenty of action to come, my friend. This is just getting started.” Garin kept glancing at Indigo though he continued to speak with Raylon. “We need to set up a meeting with Nazerel and Morgan ASAP.”

  “Already done,” Raylon told him. “They’re expecting us tomorrow morning.”

  “Very good. Are the station’s com-systems online yet?”

  “Communications was one of the systems requiring extensive upgrades, so they’re still a few days out. If you’re asking about Quinton’s message, however, the ships picked it up loud and clear.” He indicated the Crusader and the Intrepid.

  “How does it feel to be a criminal?” Garin smiled and slapped Raylon on the back.

  “You tell me. You’re the one with a price on your head.”


  “How can you laugh about this?” Indigo asked. “Quinton was certainly not joking.”

  Garin turned and met her gaze. Zilor’s breath lodged in his throat.

  “Quinton is an incompetent child who was never fit to rule. He is the perfect example of why hereditary rulers need to be abolished.” His expression was stern, his tone authoritative and still she held her ground.

  “I understand that, but a bounty that large will attract people from God knows where. Quinton is now the least of your problems.”

  “It’s sweet for you to be so worried about me. We’ve yet to officially meet.”

  Would she realize he was joking? Garin’s expressions could be hard to read.

  Without missing a beat, she fired back. “I wasn’t worried about you, sir. I was concerned about Zilor. Also my best friend has mated with Bandar. I don’t want to see Raina upset.”

  Garin laughed and looked at Zilor. “She’s adorable. I approve.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” Raylon said before Zilor could react. “There was quite a situation yesterday. She needs to be claimed as soon as possible.”

  “Explain.” Garin motioned toward the Crusader. “As we walk.”

  Zilor waited until the other two were out of earshot before he pulled Indigo into his arms and kissed her deeply. “I told you I’d be back.”

  “I’m thrilled.” She kissed him briefly then took his hand and led him toward the outpost’s main entrance.

  “Garin found an address for Vox. I’ll check it out in the morning.”

  “Wonderful. I’m dying to know who he is and why Mimi recommended him. You know it’s weird. Chandar said the name seemed familiar, but she wasn’t able to remember why.”

  “I’ll find him. I promise.”

  She squeezed his hand and offered him a smile before she said, “Things have been interesting since you’ve been gone.”

  “What was Raylon talking about? Why do you need to be claimed?”

  “One of the medics notified all of the men on my list. A bunch of them rushed the Pavilion determined to…I don’t honestly know what they were hoping to do.”

  “Was Raylon there?”

  “Not until after things turned ugly.”