by Kyle, Celia
Something small and dark comes flying into our midst. My eyes widen and I stand up with a shout.
“Grenade.”
Then I swiftly kick the spheroid explosive device, sending it flying back out onto the street. The marines give a shout and dive back into cover just before it goes off. That’s bought us a few seconds—a minute at most. I don’t know whether I should be happy about the sounds of agonized screaming coming from the street or not, even though it means one of the marines won’t be chasing us anymore.
“I don’t think they’ll try that again,” Varia says.
“Take Ilya and get out of here.” Lokyer shoves me hard enough on my rump that I stagger forward a few steps. “Get moving.”
I turn my gaze on Ilya, and our eyes meet. No matter what, I can’t let any harm come to her. Reluctantly, I drag out my spare pistol from my boot and press it into Lokyer’s hand.
“Finally, you’re being smart.” Lokyer laughs, his face contorted in agony. “First time for everything.”
“Lokyer.” I put my hand on his shoulder, but I can’t find the right words. Maybe there are no right words for a time like this.
“I know, I love you too. Like a brother, of course.” He laughs, though his eyes glitter with a hard light. “Make sure to tell everyone how heroic my death was.”
With that, he strains until he lifts himself to his feet, his broken leg barely able to support any weight at all. He glances over his shoulder, smiling one last time.
“Run, dumbass.”
Then he steps out from behind the trash bin, firing both pistols at once. Amazingly, he hits with both of them, dropping two of the marines even as more swarm in to take their place.
“Come forward, humans, and face the wrath of the Kilgari.”
I tear myself away, my cheeks growing wet even as I drag Ilya along behind me. Varia takes point, her legs flashing as she strains to reach the end of the alleyway.
When she reaches the edge, she flattens herself against the dirt-streaked wall and then pops out of cover firing away. Shouts sound in the street, and then she waves for us to keep running.
We flash past her onto the avenue, nearly knocking over an elderly human couple. Varia quickly peels off after us, and we rush toward the slums and our awaiting ship.
“Lokyer.” It’s all I can say, and even I can hear how my voice breaks with anguish.
“I know, honey. I’m so sorry.”
I squeeze Ilya’s hand a bit more tightly, and we continue our headlong flight. No pretense is being given toward blending in now. Not with the marines out for our blood.
As we get about halfway down the avenue, I can hear a rapid profusion of blaster shots from the alleyway where we left Lokyer. The shots are so close together they almost sound like one continuous blast.
Then they stop, and I know my friend is dead.
The best way I can honor his sacrifice is to get Ilya and Varia safely aboard the ship. We run on, swerving down a side street when we encounter another roadblock.
“They’re trying to box us in again.”
“I know.” I look behind us for a moment and find that the alleyway has spilled out ten marines, and all of them are in hot pursuit.
We reach the slums, and Varia slows her pace.
“What are you doing?”
“Starting a revolution.”
She turns to the hustlers, hookers, and vagrants on the street.
“Beware! The IHC is sending secret police to ‘clean up’ this street. Are we just going to take that shit lying down?”
One of the hustlers, wearing a vibrant purple coat and a plumed hat, drags a pistol out of his jacket pocket.
“Hell no.”
The cry is taken up by the rest of the street urchins, except for those who slink off into deeper shadows and cringe in fear. Just about every single sapient on the lane has a gun.
Then we take off running again and whip around the corner of a block. Behind us, we hear the sounds of gunfire erupt once again.
“That won’t keep them at bay for long.”
“It doesn’t have to.” I point at a hover truck being unloaded of its burden of Geigerbrau outside a low-class tavern. We increase our speed and I leap into the driver’s compartment, landing next to the confused pilot.
“Hello. I’m very sorry about this.”
“Sorry about what? Get the hell out of…”
My fist takes him in the temple, and I gently ease him to the street below.
“Sorry about that.”
Varia and Ilya leap into the cargo compartment, and I take off at full throttle as angry shouts pursue us down the lane.
We burst out of the Cadrinda city limits, leaving a plume of dust behind us as we vector at high speed toward the waiting Ancestral Queen. I glance in the rear-view monitor and find no pursuit is imminent.
Safe. But only because of Lokyer’s sacrifice.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Ilya
When we’re still a good distance from the Ancestral Queen, Varia and I hear Swipt calling the ship on his comm unit. My heart breaks at the heaviness and sorrow in his tone. It’s so palpable I feel as if I’ve been punched in the chest.
“Swipt to Ancestral Queen, come in.”
“We read you loud and clear, Swipt. What’s wrong?’
Swipt shakes his head, an agonized expression cascading over his face.
“It’s—I need to speak to the captain, Grantian. But right now can you open the cargo bay doors? We’re being pursued by IHC marines.”
A brief pause and then Grantian’s voice comes over the line, crackling with urgency.
“Bay doors are opening now. What in the hell did you get yourselves into?”
Swipt doesn’t answer, possibly because he’s still a bit in shock over Lokyer’s death. I know the feeling. I just can’t believe he’s gone. I keep expecting to hear one of his wisecracks at any moment.
I know he and Swipt were very close. Once he even referred to the navigator as “my best friend Lokyer.” It seems a cruel twist of fate for the two of us to get together only for his oldest companion to die in such a gruesome manner.
Varia notices my tear-streaked face and grabs me in a tight embrace.
“We—we just left him there. Left him there to die.”
“Shh.” She strokes my hair and rocks me slowly. “I know. He’s beyond suffering now.”
For some reason, that doesn’t make me feel better. In fact, it prompts me to full-on ugly sobbing. I get so bad that Swipt turns to gaze through the rear-view.
“Is she all right?”
He directs his query at Varia, but I reply.
“I’m okay, Swipt.” I wipe tears out of my eyes and smile sadly. “Well, I’m not okay, but there’s nothing for it.”
Swipt’s face contorts into a sad frown, and I notice he keeps blinking his eyes.
We skate up the gangplank and directly into the cargo bay. Swipt parks the hover truck while Vander and Montier look on in puzzlement.
“What in the world is this vehicle doing here?”
“I stole it. If you want, send it back down the ramp, but I have to get to the bridge right away.”
Swipt is putting on a brave face, but I can hear the pain in his tone. The other Kilgari pick up on it as well and exchange glances.
“Where is Lokyer? Wasn’t he with you?”
Swipt looks over at Zander and opens his mouth to speak, but no sound comes out. His eyes are struggling to hold back a flood of tears. Eventually Swipt closes his mouth and shakes his head.
“Oh no.” Montier’s bottom lip quivers. “No. Not Lokyer.”
“Lokyer deserves better than this.” Vander slams his fist into the bulkhead, leaving a hand-sized dent.
We leave them to their grief and make our way up decks toward the bridge. The people we pass in the corridors, both Kilgari and Frontier refugees, all pick up on our somber manner. No one speaks to or challenges us all the way to the bridge.
The doors slide open, and Swipt half walks, half staggers inside. He collapses into his pilot’s chair, breathing hard as if it took every last ounce of effort just to make it here.
“Swipt?” Grantian and Solair both come out of their chairs and go to Swipt’s side. “What’s the matter? Are you injured?”
“No.” he shakes his head, sniffling as a tear dribbles down his golden cheek. “I’m not hurt at all. Physically.”
Varia goes up to Solair and embraces him from behind. He twists about in her grip so he can hug her back, and they speak quietly to each other while Grantian peers down at Swipt.
“Now see here, Swipt. You’re acting quite strangely and haven’t given a direct answer to our queries as of yet. Either you explain what’s going on or…”
Solair’s hand on his first mate’s shoulder quiets Grantian’s tirade.
“Grantian, it’s all right.” Solair’s jaw works silently for a time before me manages to speak. “Lokyer is gone.”
Grantian’s face falls, and he straightens up so he’s no longer looming menacingly over Swipt’s chair.
“No. How?”
“I’m afraid it’s all my fault.”
All of the eyes on the bridge turn toward me, and I feel hot tears running down my face.
“What do you mean, your fault?” Varia shakes her head. “Don’t blame yourself, Ilya.”
“How can I not blame myself?” I shake with barely contained rage, frustration, and agony. My tone creeps up a few octaves and is more aggressive than I’ve ever heard coming out of my mouth. “How can I not? I got Lokyer killed because I ran off without thinking.”
“It’s not your fault, my love.” Swipt crosses the bridge and takes me in his arms as I sob into his chest.
“But it is my fault.” My voice is fraught with misery and distorted by my crying fit. “It is my fault. It is. If I’d listened to you, Lokyer would be here, sitting right in that seat.”
I point a trembling finger at the empty navigation chair, and I think if breaking hearts made a sound the noise level on the bridge would be deafening.
“You don’t know that.” Swipt strokes my hair, trying to soothe my agony. “You can’t know that. Lokyer knew the risks when he signed up as part of the Ancestral Queen’s crew. Not everyone walks away every time.”
“But why him?” I shake my head, blubbering like a baby. “Why did it have to be Lokyer? Why are so many horrible people still alive and so many good ones dead? Why don’t you ask your precious Precursors about that, huh?”
Inwardly, I cringe at the harshness of my words, but Swipt is great about it. He just continues to comfort me as Varia launches into an explanation of what happened at the settlement.
“We found Commander Davenport’s listed address, and it turned out to be an office above a tavern.”
“A tavern?”
“Yes, one favored by the IHC marines. We didn’t think that was suspicious.” Varia looks at the floor and clenches her fists in anger. “I don’t know why we didn’t just turn around and walk right back out.”
“It sounds like you acted upon your best judgment at the time, given the available data.” Solair frowns and rests his hand on her shoulder. “It’s not your fault.”
Varia puts her hand on top of his, seeming to gather strength from his touch.
“We asked around discreetly, and found out about the office. Then we sent Ilya upstairs to investigate…
“No, Varia.” I pull slightly away from Swipt, though I keep my hand around his waist for support. “Don’t try to exonerate or excuse me. I ran off on my own, despite everyone telling me to wait.”
Solair nods, but I don’t detect judgment from his eyes, just sympathy.
“Well…” Varia clears her throat. “I joined Ilya upstairs and kept watch while she picked about a hundred locks on his office door. Then we—she, really—hacked into his terminal and downloaded all the files we found of slightest interest. Unfortunately, we attracted the wrong kind of attention.”
“An IHC marine went to arrest them.” Swipt’s tone is filled with weariness. “Lokyer and I stopped him and then fought with the others who followed in his wake.”
“We were able to get away, but the streets were swarming with marines. They started setting up check points, choking us off from any retreat.” Varia covers her face with her hand before continuing. “Lokyer, he, he fell…broke his leg badly.”
“We just left him there.” I start crying again, and Swipt comes to console me.
“Lokyer died to give us the time to escape,” Varia finishes sadly. “He was a hero.”
“Yes. He was.” Solair sighs and puts his hand on the back of Lokyer’s seat. “Rest easy in the Golden Halls, friend.”
I sniffle and dig out my datapad.
“At least he didn’t die in vain. These files have something worthwhile. I just know it.”
Or I hope they do, at any rate.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Swipt
“Swipt, get us out of here.”
Solair’s voice seems to come from a long distance away, as unimportant as the ever-present hum of the engines or my own heartbeat. Still, some part of my grief-stricken brain realizes I’m on duty. My hands seem to move of their own accord, engaging our maximum sub light drive and setting a vector for a good spot to jump from.
I stop myself from calling out to Lokyer to make the superluminal jump calculations. Lokyer is no more. Now it’s Fiona’s job.
Perhaps Solair realizes my dilemma, and he steps in to take my place.
“Fiona, please make a superluminal calculation that takes us out of this system.”
“I’m on it, Solair.”
Once the calculations are complete, I mechanically, numbly punch in the course and engage the superluminal drive. Part of my mind notes a slight buildup in pre-vented plasma, so I adjust it almost without thinking.
Lokyer is gone. It just doesn’t seem right. He’s supposed to be right here, sitting at the Nav console and making one of his silly jibes or moaning about not having found his fated mate. Before Ilya came along, Lokyer was the crewmate with whom I’d spent the most time. I would even go so far as to say he’s my best friend.
Was. Was my best friend. Until the IHC marines took him away from me…
I suddenly realize we left his body behind. What are they going to do with it? Drag him through the streets? Behead the corpse and set it on a pike as an object lesson? An honorable burial seems most unlikely.
Fucking IHC. Fucking marines. Fucking Project Blue Dawn and fucking Davenport. We’re supposed to be freebooters, living a life of adventure and profit on the sea of stars. I never signed up to be a fighter. I pilot ships. I don’t get shot at personally.
Once we’re in the midst of our jump, I set the controls to automatic and spin around in my seat.
“Solair, we have to go back.”
“What?” Solair blinks several times, his lips twisting into a frown. “Go back where?”
“To Cadrinda. We can’t just leave Lokyer there. He deserves a decent burial.”
Solair seems to deflate, sagging in his eat and sighing deeply.
“I know he does, Swipt. And if there were any way at all we could pull it off, you know I’d be one hundred percent behind the idea.”
My mouth gapes open in shock. I can’t believe what I’m hearing.
“So we’re just going to leave him to rot? Or maybe the humans will stuff and mount him on a wall like a trophy. Or cut off his horns and make a necklace out of them.”
“It’s a hard reality, Swipt.” Grantian comes over next to me and puts a hand on my shoulder. “I think Lokyer would understand.”
“Bullshit.” I smack his hand away and stand up, getting right in Grantian’s face. “How in the hell would you know what Lokyer would or wouldn’t understand? None of you knew him like I did. There wasn’t an aggressive or malicious bone in his body, but he’s the one who died. Why? Where’s the cosmic logic in that?”
> Grantian is an ex Hael Hound and has about thirty pounds on me. Were I thinking rationally, I would never consider the possibility that I might thrash him, but at the moment I’m about two heartbeats away from trying my damnedest.
“Swipt, you need to settle down. Take your seat or I’ll relieve you of duty.”
I turn toward Solair, my eyes narrowing to slits.
“So now you’re going to play the big, bad captain? If you’re so big and bad, why weren’t you down in the colony? Why didn’t you get shot? Lokyer died trying to protect your mate, and you’re not even going to try and recover his body? Because you’re scared? You don’t deserve the mantle of captain.”
I expect Solair to explode into anger, but instead he surprises me. He grows quite calm, and his face is etched with sadness.
“Swipt, go take a walk and get ahold of yourself.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Suddenly Ilya is at my side, her hands soothing as they caress my back. She takes my hand and tugs me toward the exit. I allow myself to be led along as everyone on the bridge stares with a mix of pity and anxiety.
As soon as the bridge doors close, I sink down to the floor and sob. Ilya is right there, embracing me, saying soothing words in my ear. I clutch at her, giving vent to my grief.
After a time she helps me rise to my feet and leads me by the hand to my quarters. She sits me down on the padded bench at the end of my bed and leans her head on my shoulder. My tears stop falling, and the numb, hollow feeling in my chest is somewhat alleviated by Ilya’s presence.
Not filled. No one but Lokyer could ever occupy that place in our hearts. But alleviation will be enough.
“I’m so sorry, honey.” Her soft lips press against my cheek. “But Lokyer wouldn’t want you to be sad.”
“Are you kidding?” I chuckle, feeling some relief in my chest. “That guy would go out of his way to bitch that we weren’t crying enough.”
We share a laugh, and then she kisses me again. Our eyes meet with a sudden intensity, and then we mash lips together once more.
My hands tug at her garments, pulling them away from her soft, pliant skin as I smother her with deep kisses. Ilya gasps as I tear her shirt right off, leaving the shredded garment on the floor. Then I dive face first into the enticing cradle of her generous bosom. My lips and tongue ply themselves all over her chest, moving inward toward the pink circle of her areola.