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Exile's Throne

Page 2

by Rhonda Mason


  Il’haars and ro’haars never married. Each twin took lovers to satisfy their physical needs, but they never bonded with anyone romantically. A strong romantic attachment of that kind on either side would draw their focus away from the twin bond. It just wasn’t done. Even when it came to having heirs, the il’haar chose a partner based on their superior genetics and psionic ability to have a child with. That woman might be the heirs’ mother, but she did not rule.

  Yet here she was with Malkor. She had found romance, had found love, which, now tasted, she did not want to give up.

  The two weeks since their escape from the imperial homeworld had been the best two weeks of her life. She hadn’t known happiness like this existed. Contentment, surely; satisfaction with her skills as a bodyguard and the ease of knowing her il’haars were safe, absolutely. But happiness? Now that they were together, truly together, she finally understood.

  While the rest of the octet—which now consisted of five members—took turns flying the ship, Kayla and Malkor took turns exploring each other. Her life had been a nightmare since the empire captured her homeworld, what with living in hiding, protecting her younger brother, fighting in the Blood Pit on the slum side of Altair Tri… not to mention being pulled into Isonde’s schemes. And it was no secret that once they reached their destination, the center of the Mine Field, chaos would claim her life again.

  But here, for two weeks, she didn’t have to hide. She didn’t have to fight, didn’t have to plot or scheme or run. The only thing she wanted to do, the only thing she did, was spend time with her love. These were two weeks out of time, and they meant everything to her.

  Considering she was joining the war to retake her homeworld of Ordoch from the Sakien Empire, they were probably her last two happy weeks, as well.

  Malkor’s lashes lifted. He peered at her with sleepy green eyes whose corners crinkled at the first glimpse of her face.

  “Hi,” he said, his arms tightening around her, bringing their bodies flush.

  “Hi, yourself.”

  “Have you been watching me sleep again?”

  She kissed him in answer, and that kiss led to another, and another. Kayla forced him to his back and stretched her length out atop him, longing to get closer, to feel every centimeter of skin against skin. Malkor wrapped one arm around her waist and threaded his other hand into her long blue hair, cupping the back of her head and holding her there so she couldn’t pull back from their kiss.

  As if she would.

  Kayla moved against him with an almost fatalistic need. She hadn’t known herself to be capable of such hunger, such desire, until Malkor. Malkor responded with a low growl and shifted his grip to her hips, fingertips digging into her flesh.

  Did he taste the desperation in her kiss? The fear of losing him? Did she taste just a hint of desperation in return? Malkor was no fool. Although he had secured a place in her heart despite her protection of Corinth, he must have given some thought to what it would mean to Kayla to have Vayne truly back in her life.

  They had arrived at the edge of the Mine Field the night before. And as soon as Natali contacted them, the cocoon they had wrapped themselves in would be sundered. They would belong to their destinies from then on.

  There might never be another moment like this one.

  Kayla braced herself on Malkor’s shoulders and rose above him, ignoring the complaint in her healing arm. His hands gripped her tighter, urged her faster, and she knew he felt it too, these last precious moments slipping away.

  * * *

  Less than an hour later, while they lay replete in a sweaty tangle of limbs, their holiday ended, Rigger, Malkor’s tech specialist, broke in with a comm:

  “Natali’s called in—it’s time to talk plans.”

  Kayla could practically hear the sigh they both refused to make. Malkor rolled over to touch the comm. “On our way.”

  They scrubbed down quickly, donned fresh clothes, and entered the bridge of the Lorius to be greeted by game faces all around.

  Rigger was at comms and Hekkar, Malkor’s second in command and close friend, sat at the weapon controls—which didn’t surprise Kayla in the least. Of the octet members, he was always the most serious, the most prepared for a negative outcome. He was also the member of the octet who had disapproved of her relationship with Malkor from the start. She’d won him over with her dedication and fervor to free Malkor when he’d been taken prisoner. Now she and Hekkar had a special bond as the two people who cared the most for Malkor’s welfare.

  Beside Hekkar stood Trinan and Vid, the main muscle of the octet and holders of a special place in Kayla’s heart. They had taken her younger brother Corinth under their wing as if he were their own son, while Kayla had been busy with the many intrigues of the Empress Game. Indeed, Vid had almost given his life to save Corinth. Kayla wouldn’t hesitate to do the same for either of them.

  The last person in the room was the medic Toble, not actually a member of the octet. Toble was a long-standing friend of theirs, probably to his regret. He had been dragged into every clandestine mission the octet ran, whenever they needed unreported medical attention. That included treating Kayla when she’d taken Isonde’s identity during the Empress Game, saving Isonde from her deathly coma (with Prince Ardin’s help), and operating on Kayla’s right arm when Siño had nearly destroyed it. The wound was still tender, but thanks to Toble’s expertise Kayla had had a chance to recover full use of the limb. Without that she might as well be dead, for all the good she’d be as a ro’haar to her brothers.

  Missing from the octet were Janeen, who had betrayed them, Aronse, who couldn’t afford to run rogue because she had an extended family to support, and Gio, whose gambling addiction had forced him to become a puppet to the octet’s enemies. Janeen had been killed, and Gio and Aronse had stayed on Falanar and denounced Malkor to save themselves.

  Malkor reached to take her hand, but Kayla sidled away, pretending not to notice his gesture as she stepped toward the massive vidscreen the bridge boasted. Their blissful time as a couple—and her reprieve from her many duties—had ended. She felt a heavy weight as the mantle of ro’haar, Wyrd rebel, and Ordochian princess settled on her once more.

  If Malkor was surprised by her sudden distance, she had no idea, for she didn’t look back to acknowledge it.

  The communications console beeped and Rigger checked the input. “Natali and the others are waiting to speak to us.”

  Malkor nodded, and everyone on the bridge activated their aural translator implants and turned to face the vidscreen as it lit up. Though she’d seen it a few times before, Kayla still couldn’t believe she was looking at the actual control room from the actual Yari.

  Instead, she focused on what she could believe: the people in the room. Her older sister Natali—who had been ro’haar to her own twin Erebus before he died under Dolan’s years of torture—stood front and center. Everyone aboard the Yari looked to Natali, and seemed to be waiting for her to speak.

  Kayla and Natali had trained together growing up, but they’d never been close. Natali and Erebus were Ordoch’s heirs, destined to rule, and that had set them apart from their siblings. Beyond that, Natali had a natural coldness and superiority about her. She never asked for help, she never asked for quarter, and she never asked for comfort. All the Ordochian ro’haars, twinned and untwinned alike, knew that Natali was the best. Kayla had lived with a mix of awe and fear of her older sister as a child.

  There was something immovable in Natali’s gaze now, as she stood in command of the ancient battleship, that put Kayla on alert.

  “Sister. You look well,” Natali said crisply in Ordochian.

  Kayla stood just a little taller. It took an effort not to drop her gaze under Natali’s intense aquamarine stare. “You seem improved,” Kayla said. But not by much. The last time Kayla had seen her sister, Natali had been free from Dolan’s prison for mere hours. Now she had more meat on her and a less vacant stare, but her pale blue ponytail looked ti
ght enough to rip hair out at the roots and her features were practically immobile. She seemed more… herself. More solid, more fierce. But also more brittle, like a breath of solar wind might crumble all that ferocity in pieces.

  Kayla had never seen her sister’s strength so mixed with vulnerability, though she doubted anyone else in the room noticed anything other than the perfect confidence she projected. Only Kayla, who had known Natali before the Dolan years, recognized what was underneath, and somehow, that made her sister seem all the stronger, because for Natali to command them as she did now spoke to her steadfastness to do what must be done.

  “No time to waste recouping.” She glanced at Kayla’s damaged arm. Kayla unconsciously shifted her stance to hide the weakness from sight.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “Good. The Reinumons can show no weakness. You’ve always been exceptionally strong, we’ll need your strength in the months ahead.”

  Kayla nodded, unwilling to let her sister see how greatly the compliment affected her. Natali’s expression was unreadable as she took a step backward. “Our brother is eager to see you.” Kayla’s pulse quickened. She looked beyond her sister and saw the Yari’s master, Captain Janus, who now went by her informal first name, Ida. Beside her were Abenifluis Strokar— Benny—the Yari’s main gunner and now Ida’s second in command, Navigations First Officer Navriel Entar—Ariel— and the ship’s physicist, Tanet. The collection of greenish-blue hair proclaimed their age. Over generations, the natural hair color of modern Ordochians had shifted from the ancient green-blue to the fully blue spectrum.

  Noar stood on the other side of the room. His lilac hair color proclaimed him a citizen of the Wyrd World Ilmena. He had come with Tia’tan and a group of Ilmenans to free Kayla’s family from Dolan’s clutches, and she would be forever grateful. Then the doors on screen opened, and everyone turned to look.

  Tia’tan entered first and took up position beside Noar, apparently unfazed by the attention, and then, finally, behind Tia’tan came Vayne, who hesitated in the doorway when he saw everyone staring at him. He had a hunted look, and Kayla’s heart went out to him. As much as she was thrilled to see him alive and safe, it hurt to see him in any distress.

  “Vayne,” Kayla called out. “I’m here.”

  Vayne met her gaze through the vidscreen and seemed to draw strength from their connection. His shoulders relaxed the tiniest bit. “Good to see you,” he said, giving her a ghost of a smile.

  Vayne stepped forward and positioned himself halfway between Tia’tan and Natali as if trying to keep equal distance from both.

  Odd. Kayla knew he and Natali disagreed on using the Yari’s massive weapons systems in the Ordochian War, but surely he felt more comfortable with their sister than an Ilmenan. She wanted to ask. She wanted to speak, but they stood on opposite bridges surrounded by too many people who weren’t each other. Twin conversation would have to wait.

  “Where’s Corinth?” she asked.

  “Same place he’s been since we arrived—the engine room, working on the hyperstream drive. He’d sleep there if I let him,” Vayne said with humor.

  “Are you making sure he’s getting enough to eat?” Vid asked.

  Noar nodded. “I’m keeping an eye on him.”

  The Ilmenan was? Not Vayne? Kayla looked a question at her brother but he broke eye contact.

  “Greetings to the agents as well,” Natali said, glancing at the members of the octet for the first time. “Senior Agent Rua, you have my thanks and the thanks of my family for the part your octet played in our rescue from captivity.” She inclined her head to Malkor.

  “It is our honor,” he replied.

  “Thank you also for aiding Kayla in her journey to this point. We will always be grateful.”

  Most people might say they were in Malkor’s debt, but for Natali, who knew the role IDC had played in the Ordochian coup, the scales would never tip in that direction.

  “Good luck in your travels back to the empire.”

  “Back?” Malkor asked. The one-word question seemed to increase the tension on both ships.

  Natali paused before answering. “I assume you have a rendezvous with a ship to take you and your octet back to your homeworld. Kayla is more than capable of flying an imperial ship alone.” She made the Lorius sound as complex as a bathtub toy.

  “There is no way—” Malkor started, but Kayla cut him off with a hand on his arm.

  She widened her stance, squaring off against Natali. “The octet is coming with me.” Their blue gazes locked. On the periphery, Vayne frowned at her words.

  “I appreciate what’ve they done, but imperials have no place on this ship.”

  “We’re here to help,” Rigger said. The look Natali shot her prevented Rigger from elaborating. Trinan and Vid straightened and Kayla recognized the prelude to their battle stances.

  Over on the Yari, Captain Janus looked like she might say something, but Natali didn’t give her a chance. Her eyes narrowed. “Your place is with your family and your people now, sister. There is no room in your future for distractions.”

  Kayla didn’t even have to think about her response, though she was loath to oppose her sister. “You’re wrong.”

  Natali’s chin lowered a fraction. A defensive move, one declaring she was ready to fight. “As heir to the Ordoch throne, I order—”

  “I said no. The octet stays with me.”

  The moment dragged on as Natali, backed into a corner she hadn’t seen coming, debated her response. Her final verdict was harsh. “Imperials are not welcome on this ship, and if you will not part with them, it follows that you cannot board either.”

  Captain Janus definitely looked disturbed now, but she held her peace.

  Kayla took a step closer to the vidscreen, ignoring the flash of guilt at her betrayal. “I recognize that you are Ordoch’s sovereign now, but your title can’t stop me from seeing my il’haars.” Kayla looked to Vayne, letting him know that she meant the words. She would not abandon him again. “My whole purpose is to free the people of Ordoch, and everyone on this ship shares that goal. The octet and I will execute Noar and Corinth’s crazy plan of flying straight into the Mine Field, and if we survive, we will all be joining you.”

  She switched her attention to the captain. “Captain Janus, the docking mechanisms on the Lorius are significantly different than Ordochian design. I doubt we’ll be able to form a seal.”

  “Is no problem! Dockings have umbilical, many many, will shunt you through the space.” She smiled. “Eager we have been for arrival of yours.”

  Natali remained silent and everyone held their breath. If glacial ice could smolder, her gaze would burn, despite the control she had over her expression. “We’ll speak soon, sister.” She left the room without another word, taking the tension with her.

  It seemed as if everyone on both sides of the vidscreen relaxed once she had gone.

  “Okay, Noar, Tanet. Let’s talk about this hyperstream vector you propose.” Kayla forced a smile. “Promise it won’t land us in the middle of the field and kill us all?”

  Noar returned the smile and made a wobbly motion with his hand.

  Vid chuckled. “That’s about how our luck runs, huh, boss?”

  “Sure seems that way these days,” Malkor answered.

  2

  FALANAR CITY, FALANAR, IMPERIAL SPACE

  After a decade of intricate political schemes and maneuvers, Isonde Veriley—princess of the Sovereign Planet Piran, empress-apparent of the Sakien Empire—had earned her seat on the Council of Seven. And they’ll have to pry my dead body out of it if they want it back. The prestigious chambers of the Council of Seven claimed a place of pride within Falanar’s imperial palace. Few had ever entered, despite the centuries passing. Fewer still had sat at the great oblong table in the center, claiming one of the precious seven votes that decided the ultimate fate of the Sakien Empire.

  Seated at the table now, Isonde glanced at the chronometer embedded i
n the wall. How could it be late afternoon already? There was so much more to do. Always more. Already today, she’d held meetings with two members of the Sovereign Council and several members of the Protectorate Council, trying to further her agenda of helping all planets in the empire infected with the Tetratock nanovirus.

  Precious moments passed as Sovereign Council member Elivar Bellst argued—again—in favor of a plan to pull humanitarian support from some of the Protectorate Planets—where it was needed most—to focus on Sovereign Planet Wei-lu-Wei. The first outbreak of the Tetratock nanovirus on a Sovereign Planet had rocked the empire, and priorities were shifting once again. Apparently, the Sovereign Council was ready to let the Protectorate Planets be eaten alive in order to save one of their own. Knowing Bellst would formally make this proposal today, Isonde had come with arguments prepared against him, but with the chronometer counting down, it seemed she’d be forced to wait until tomorrow’s session. The last thing she wanted was for the other council members to have a night to ponder the merits of a plan that would let thousands, if not millions, of people die.

  Another few minutes of this and I’m going to cut him off, etiquette rules or not. If the Protectorate Council member, who looked to be at a fine boil, didn’t beat her to it.

  In truth, Isonde was well aware that delaying an abandonment of the Protectorate Planets to focus resources on Sovereign Planets would make no difference. The TNV was spreading exponentially now. The nanotech had been designed as a weapon, supposedly one with containment protocols, but once unleashed the TNV quickly mutated, evolving past those protocols and learning to replicate itself biologically. The virus ate a person from the inside out, consuming the body to make more of itself.

 

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