"What if Aglat equips a projectile weapon?”
"That is highly unlikely. The more weapons one bears, the less honor he can expect. But that won’t matter much in your case. Most Kragak would not consider your weapons as weapons anyway.”
"That’s reassuring."
"I might be able to find something you can use over here." Kaliff crossed the narrow chamber and sifted through the contents of a large crate.
Grimshaw squinted at the Kragak. "Why are you telling me all of this? Why do you want to help me?"
"Because we want you to win," he said over his shoulder.
"We?" Aside from Haraus, Grimshaw wondered who else could possibly be on his side. Every other Kragak he’d met since arriving on board the Foundry seemed set against him. He’d been expecting more support given Administrator Li’s claims.
"The Line of Elders and the Circle of Shaman believe you hold the key to returning our reproductive capabilities. It is true that a few have given birth naturally, but most of us remain barren. That is another reason Aglat fears death. Without offspring, his line will be broken. If his line is broken, all the honor he gathered will be for nothing."
"Yet he doesn’t want me to fix your rebirth chambers?"
"Tradition blinds Aglat." Metal clanged as Kaliff threw plated armor down next to the crate. "He believes you seek to destroy the chambers entirely. His followers are of the same mind."
"And you?"
"The gods have selected you. They have marked you with the sign of Hadarr. That is enough for me. Once you fix the rebirth chambers, the other groups that have broken from the homeworld will have no choice but to recognize you as Hadarr. Then we will have the power to take our Kragaknar back from the traitors who sold us to Chimera."
"The rest of your elders have a strange way of showing they wish for me to succeed."
"Their hands chained. They must appear to uphold tradition before the masses if they are to maintain leadership. They may oppose you in the open, but behind closed doors, they cheer for you."
"I’ll need more than their cheers to defeat Aglat. I’ve not fought a Kragak in decades, and even during the war the only battles we fought were the ones where heavy firepower and numbers were on our side…not to mention luck."
Having emptied most of the crate on the floor and finding nothing useful, Kaliff moved to the next one.
"Cheering might not be enough to defeat Aglat, but do not underestimate it either. Aglat knows that the Elders do not support him or his love of the old ways. In spite of his bravado, this will undermine his confidence. Also, remember his weakness."
"Nice pep talk, but I still don’t like the odds."
"Then perhaps this will even things a little." He handed Grimshaw a short metal tube. "Attach it to your strong arm."
Grimshaw almost dropped the device. "It’s too heavy. I’ll have to divert too much power to my right arm. My battery won’t last long, and if that goes I’m dead."
Even with the battery, my chances of walking away from this alive are next to zero. What the hell was I thinking?
He still couldn’t figure out why he had blurted out the challenge, but it seemed right, even standing there in the Kragak pit, staring down the tunnel that led to certain death.
"That device is a shield. You’ll need it. You might want to remain at a distance, but your only hope of winning is getting close enough to strike at Aglat. A shield will help you accomplish that."
Grimshaw held the cumbersome hunk of metal against his chest as he slid his arm inside. Though simple in appearance, it seemed to detect it had been equipped and unraveled into a series of coils. It whined as it tightened onto his arm and hissed as it returned to its original shape only smaller. A line of five green lights activated.
"I take it the lights represent the shield’s power levels?”
Aglat tipped his head. "The shield will sustain five blows before deactivating. You may activate it using the button on the cuff. You should be able to push it with a flick of your wrist."
Grimshaw tested that theory and was surprised to find Kaliff was right. The button clicked and a translucent green panel materialized several inches from his forearm. It was three feet wide and almost twice as tall.
"Not bad," he said, deactivating it with another flick.
"You might win this fight yet." Kaliff flashed a smile that Grimshaw found anything but reassuring.
He adjusted his TEK’s power settings to compensate for the uneven weight distribution. His right arm whined in objection as it moved more smoothly, and no warning lights registered.
"Looks like it’ll work."
"It’ll have to."
He looked at the crates lining the walls. "I don’t suppose there is anything else I can use."
Kaliff joined his hands. "You will also have my prayers."
It wasn’t the answer he was hoping for, but he was willing to take anything he could get. “Kaliff, thank you for assisting me when others preferred to save face."
"It is my honor to serve the Hadarr."
Grimshaw looked at the raised portcullis gate at the other end of the room. The arena awaited beyond. "I guess I better go now."
"Yes, delaying further will look bad."
"I’ll see you soon." Without another word, Grimshaw walked under the portcullis and proceeded down the long tunnel, ill equipped and ill prepared to face his doom.
What the hell was I thinking?
31
Revelations
Taza opened the crate, the sound of clacking latches bouncing off the walls despite efforts to insulate the cave.
The rebels had turned the area into an armory. The single entrance was easy to conceal and being at the top of a steep tunnel was a good defensible position. The dead-end at the other end, however, made it a death trap for any would-be defenders. The back wall acted as a makeshift firing range. Bullet holes and plasma burns peppered the wooden boards hanging from the ceiling. Before the range, crude shelves and benches ran the length of the rough walls. Weapons crates and other paraphernalia were stacked haphazardly throughout.
At first Taza thought the place was a bit of a mess. While checking his repaired gear, he realized there was an organized chaos to it all. The crates had been well labelled, and the guards in charge of the armory ran a tight shift, keeping the place as clean and well stocked as they could. All in all, they weren’t bad for a bunch of untrained fighters, and Taza started to suspect the Chan rebels ran a bigger operation than Leeroy indicated.
To his relief, his black TEK powered up without trouble. He stepped into the exoframe and armored panels hissed as they fixed into place.
He flicked a button on his serial interface gate and helmet panels wrapped around his head, joining with quiet clicks before his visor slid across the final opening. His SIG pinged, confirming a complete seal. The armor had been pretty banged up in the fall, but whoever had fixed the unit had paid particular attention to the damaged leg panels. The welded seams were barely noticeable, though different metals had been used for the repair. Still, it was one hell of a job.
He ran a weapon’s check to make sure everything was in order on that front.
He looked at the painted targets at the other end of the narrow armory, beyond a low chicken-wire rail.
"Mind if I take a few pops on the range? Get a feel for the gear."
Leeroy looked up from the rifle he was oiling with a rag. "Go ahead, but don’t use up too much ammo. We don’t exactly have an infinite supply of ballistics, and there’s no telling when we’ll be able to steal more with the Ushtarans having increased security."
"Of course."
Taza pulled the Chan rifle from his shoulder’s maglock and looked the weapon over. The paint peeled in places and spots of rust had eaten through parts of the casing. He walked to the range barrier and took aim. He pulled the trigger, the thunder of gunfire dulled by his helmet’s audio filters.
He zoomed his visor in for a look at the results. Being a ballistics rifle, it had les
s stopping power than he would have liked, but it was light and a lot more accurate than expected. His plasma blaster had been fully recharged. He swapped it out and took three shots, happy to find it hadn’t been affected.
Leeroy approached. "Looking good."
"Your people did a nice job with the armor."
"We work with what we’ve got. I just received an update on the plans. Skallig and three Chan gunners will join you and Ria."
Taza shook his head. "I don’t like the idea of a Quamat watching my back."
"Your team is too small for an open fight and I can’t spare anyone else. My team should be able to get in and out of Priodome Five without being detected, but we need reinforcement to be on stand-by. Our priority is taking out that weapon. You’ll need someone who can slip by the enemy without being detected. Your suit is impressive, but it doesn’t have enough juice to keep you invisible in the open for long."
Leeroy was right and Taza knew he couldn’t talk his way out of that one. "I get the feeling he’d rather take me out than take me to my ship."
"Skallig blames Chimera for the death of his people. He wants revenge. It isn’t the best of motive, but he’s on our side. But vengeance does funny things to people. Keep an eye on him."
Taza knew what Leeroy was getting at. "I’ll use both eyes. One wrong move and I won’t hesitate to kill him."
"Do whatever needs to be done. As long as you get Ria and the others to the gate. Are you sure I can’t convince you to take Ria through the gate?"
"I’ve made promises."
He dared not mention Clio. The old redhead had dished out a story about being her father and why he had to abandon her. Taza believed most of it. Now that he knew, the resemblance was so uncanny he wondered how he hadn’t figured it out for himself. He suspected that Leeroy wasn’t telling him the whole story, though. When Taza had pressed, the warrior grew angry and warned him never to ask about his past.
"Do you believe in fate, Taza?"
"The longer I live, the more I think belief is overrated."
"That we can agree on, but I don’t think we met like this by accident. The older I get, the more I realize that choice is an illusion."
"I don’t know a whole lot, but fate is bullshit. We carve our own paths. If we didn’t what would be the point to anything?”
Leeroy cocked an eyebrow. "You think that even after seeing Zora and the Omnion peering into the future."
"Those machines use calculations and projections. Zora told me so herself."
"Perhaps even Zora and the Omnion don’t understand those machines as much as they’d like us to think."
"You make it sound like you know something they don’t."
Leeroy paused for a second, blinking. "Merely an observation. Oh, I almost forgot."
He dug in his utility belt and produced a necklace with a familiar red rock.
Taza reached for his own belt and found Clio’s necklace missing. "I picked that up on Loth."
Leeroy passed the necklace over and maintained eye contact with Taza as if expecting him to say more.
Taza cleared his throat. "It was a gift for Clio."
"I figured as much. Ria said you cried out for her while you recovered in Queen Charr’s nest."
"When I brought it to her, she asked me to hold onto it as a promise that I would give it to her when I got back from Ushtar."
Leeroy looked off into the shadows beyond Taza. "She sounds just like her mother."
"She’s a good kid."
Leeroy locked eyes with Taza. "You care a lot about her, don’t you?"
Taza looked Leeroy dead in the eye. "Like she was my own daughter. Zora and I treated her like one of our own back on the Sentinel."
"Zora told me a bit about Clio. She sounds bright and full of mischief like her old man."
Taza chuckled. "She’s fiery for sure. The smartest kid I’ve ever met. Stubborn as hell and a real pain in the ass sometimes. And she packs a mean punch." He touched the side of his face where she’d struck him. "But she’s got a good heart, and I’d do anything for her."
Their laughter died away, swallowed by the dark silence.
"Listen, Taza. Clio probably hates me, and I can’t blame her after everything I’ve done. Or haven’t done as the case may be. I tried protecting her by not being there and failed. I’d like to think you can protect her by being there for her…and succeed…but I think fate will decide."
"Fate is an excuse for those not willing to take responsibility," Taza said gently. "I intend on succeeding."
Leeroy clapped Taza on the shoulder, startling him, as his unbridled laughter bounced off the walls. "You may not realize this, former archagent, but we met once before."
The old man must be losing his marbles. "I’d recall such a meeting."
"I looked very different back then." Leeroy wiped his eyes and smiled. "My head was shaved, and I had this wild beard thing going on. Plus, I was in a prison guard TEK."
Taza thought for a second. "I’m not getting it."
"The exoframe was blue…and stolen.”
Taza’s eyes couldn’t have gone wider. "You’re the prisoner who helped Wu and I on the Brink?"
"The very same."
"How? What…Wu and I wouldn’t have made it off without your help. We thought you died in the explosion."
"The high-warden overrode the Brink’s security lockdown protocols in an attempt to stop the core overload. With the locks open, I rode an escape pod to Sathrose. They ejected the core, but the blast wave destroyed half the station and caused the other half to crash not far from where I landed. A beautiful planet for a penal colony, but it took me a damn long time to get off."
"I can’t believe that was you. I’m glad you made it off, and thanks again for helping Wu and I."
"I knew your friend Jason Grimshaw in another lifetime too. We went through the same CSD Fury Program and fought side-by-side on Gorthore."
Taza could hardly believe his ears. It was like someone had written him into some messed up story. "I thought Grimshaw was the only person to make it off that planet.”
"He was at the time. The rest of our team didn’t make it, and the Kragak took me prisoner for a few years. I learned that they weren’t the monsters we were led to believe they were, and they eventually let me go. Another story for another day, perhaps. As soon as I returned to Confederation space, I paid a data collector to hack the CSD and change my ID. Then I found a beautiful woman and settled down…at least until the CSD learned I was still around. The rest, as they say, is history."
Taza shook his head slowly. "Wait a minute. You were Grimshaw’s commander?"
"I was Zeta Team’s squad leader. Went by Sergeant Richards back then, though the guys in Zeta kept calling me the North Star." He ran a hand through his hair as he laughed at the memory. "They thought I was some hot shot. But I was just like them. A guy following orders. Doing what I had to, to get by in the world. And look at where that got me."
"Wait until Grimshaw hears about this."
"He was a bit young but a good Marine all the same. Never thought he’d be the one to end the war. Funny how quickly mankind forgot about their hero. I heard the Confederation assigned him to some Fleet base tucked away on the Fringe. Makes sense. They tried to bury everything and anything related to the CSD after the war."
"I think Grimshaw named the SS North Star after you."
"Do you still think fate is bullshit?" Leeroy grinned.
Taza scratched his head. "Why bring all this up now?"
"Call it the murmuring of an old fool." Leeroy rubbed the back of his neck. "Or maybe I’m telling you so you can let Clio know who her father really was. I don’t know."
"When all this blows over, you could tell her all this yourself."
Leeroy shook his head. "No."
By the way he said the word Leeroy made it clear that was as far as he was going to entertain that notion. "I understand."
Leeroy’s eyes thanked him for not pressing the ma
tter. "But perhaps you can give her this message."
He offered a data crystal and Taza tucked it into his belt. "I’ll make sure she gets it."
"Thank you."
"Next time we meet, we’ll swap stories over a beer."
"Sure," Leeroy said with a glint in his eye that said he had no intentions of doing any such thing. His SIG pinged. "We need to get moving. The Priodome control teams are almost ready."
Taza clutched the necklace tight. He would get Ria and her team to Priodome Five then he would get back to the Orinmore. Taza had broken many promises in his life, but getting back to Clio was one he intended on keeping. He lifted his eyes to the cave ceiling as though he looked in her direction. He hoped everything was going okay with the Kragak.
32
Arena Battle
Grimshaw emerged from the pits, the harsh arena lights above almost blinding him. A chorus of boos and hisses arose. He thought he detected a few cheers but wasn’t sure.
The noise died away only to explode into a cacophony of cheers as Aglat ambled into the Arena. Flood lighting glinted on the Kragak’s golden armor as he lifted the giant axe into the air using both hands. He opened his jaws and released a monstrous roar, eliciting another wave of rapture from the audience.
At least he’s not wearing a helmet. It wasn’t much consolation given the Kragak’s head was still covered in its natural black armor and Grimshaw had nothing with which to penetrate it from a safe distance.
"May the gods guide your weapons," a booming voice called out from above.
Aglat slammed the butt of the halberd into the ground with a thundering snap, fixing it in place. He drew a heavy plasma blaster from over his shoulder.
Grimshaw gasped. His eyes darted across the arena, searching for cover. He bolted for the nearest boulder.
Plasma lit up the ground around him. Loosened stone pelted his TEK. He blindly opened fire in Aglat’s direction. Flashes erupted ahead as several rounds struck the arena shield.
He slid behind the rock as another bolt of plasma sailed overhead. He checked the lights on the Kragak shield. Only three out of five remained.
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