Twist of Fate (Veredian Chronicles Book 4)

by Regine Abel

  “Be ready to power up weapons and for evasive maneuvers,” I said.

  Winking at Ghan, I took my seat back. He snorted, and I fought the urge to take his hand and kiss him. I’d fallen apart before him in the most humiliating fashion, but he hadn’t shunned me. Instead, he had given me exactly what I needed and advised me while letting me come to my own decision, as their leader.

  Goddess, how I love him.

  And I would show him in a million different ways, later, once this craziness was handled.

  “Bring us within their firing range.”

  Genovia, our navigator, nodded and set the ship in motion. As soon as we began our approach, the four other Guldan ships decloaked. Genovia looked at me, but I gestured with my chin for her to keep going.

  “The escort ships are powering their weapons,” Ashara said with us only seconds from our destination.

  “Acknowledged,” I said. “What of the command ship?”

  “Still the same, shielded but weapons down.”

  “Good. Keep going, Gen.”

  The ship advanced for a few more seconds before coming to a full stop. The Guldans ships didn’t stir.

  “Should I hail them again?” Ashara asked.

  I shook my head. “No. This isn’t enough yet to prove a change of heart. Open the channel, but don’t hail. Then drop our shield.”

  Ghan and Kamala snorted.

  “What?” Sohr exclaimed. “Their weapons are powered up!”

  “She won’t shoot us,” I said, confident in my statement. “Even if she did, it takes less than a second to raise our shields back up.”

  “What makes you so certain?” Sohr asked. “Guldans are pretty hardcore with their beliefs about perceived weakness.”

  “But she’s not Guldan, is she?” I asked. “She’s a hybrid Veredian-Guldan. Before Lenora, I didn’t even know such a match was possible. That means she’s worth an obscene amount of credits on the slave and collectors markets. Guldans are all about business. They would sell her without blinking. I think she needs us to be safe, and I also believe she might know what happened with the Xamora captives.”

  “Sound assessment,” Ghan said, pride shining in his eyes.

  I puffed my chest, reveling in his praise. With the fog of my season lifted—that I hadn’t even realized was there in the first place—my thoughts were once more organized, compartmentalized in a way that eased putting the puzzle pieces together. Who cares if that made me appear stiff to some?

  I loved rational me.

  “Also, remember what the Oracle said on Jeruna,” I added as an afterthought. ‘Unconditional love and devotion between sisters’ because she knew this would happen.”

  Sohr nodded, pondering my words.

  Turning back to Ashara, I gestured with my head for her to confirm my order. She raised her eyebrow, amused, then lowered our shields.

  To my surprise, and somewhat, disappointment, the Guldan ships didn’t respond. SHE didn’t respond.

  “Gen, move us forward, fifty paces.”

  “Acknowledged.”

  The battlecruiser advanced the short distance before coming to a full stop.

  “The command ship is powering up weapons,” Ashara said.

  “Really, big sis?” I whispered.

  I looked in turn at Kamala and Ashara, my two military advisors. While Ghan’s input often proved valuable, in this instance, he didn’t yet know the full capabilities of my battlecruiser. My First Officer and Weapons Specialist were better equipped to tell me how far I could call her bluff.

  Kamala pursed her lips then nodded. Ashara grinned and nodded. She was trouble, that one, and quite the adrenaline junky. Thankfully, her sense of responsibility by far outweighed her need for emotional rushes.

  The Tempest surged forward again before stopping once more at the agreed upon distance.

  The screen lit up again with my half-sister appearing on screen. Still sitting in her chair, legs crossed, neutral expression on her face, she took in my appearance, lingering on my features.

  “Lost your armor?” she asked.

  I shrugged. “It was getting hot.”

  She snorted. I smiled, a barely there smirk like my mate loved doing.

  “What am I supposed to make of that move?” she asked. “I can’t decide if it’s daring, reckless, or flat-out stupid.”

  I crossed my legs in a fashion similar to hers and clasped my hands nonchalantly in front of me.

  “How about calculated?” I offered.

  She tilted her head to the side, the bright lights on her deck gleaming on her lustrous horns.

  “Calculated how?”

  “Veredians don’t harm Veredians,” I deadpanned.

  She blinked, the movement barely noticeable, but enough to give away I’d hit a nerve. Sohr had a valid concern about Guldans despising weakness. I hoped this acknowledgement sufficed as an apology without losing points for acting too servile.

  “So I hear,” she huffed after a beat.

  With a subtle signal, Ashara indicated that all five ships had powered down their weapons. I didn’t let any sign of triumph appear on my face.

  “I don’t believe I caught your name?” I said, my tone halfway between taunting and casual.

  “Mercy. Mercy Vrok,” she said.

  “Mercy?” I repeated, surprised. “That’s not very Veredian, or Guldan for that matter.”

  “No, indeed. Actually, my first name is Ravena. My father wanted something close to my mother’s name and ‘raven’ matched my hair color. Mercy is my middle name. My father wouldn’t explain why, but I chose to go by that name.”

  My hatred of Gruuk must have shown because her face tensed slightly.

  “I understand your feelings toward my father and don’t begrudge them. But things aren’t always what they seem, Aleina Fein. For all his faults, and they were many, I loved my father. He sacrificed much to keep Mother and me safe.”

  “Mother?” I asked, dubious.

  “Do you have any idea how much I’m worth on the market?”

  “Probably more than the cost of this ship,” I conceded.

  “Much more. Until Mother, no Veredian had succeeded in birthing a living Guldan hybrid. Had my existence been public knowledge, they would have expected father to have Mother reproduce with as many different Guldans as possible to see if once the offspring came of age, they would have different powers like with Korletheans.”

  My stomach roiled at the thought of my mother being used that way.

  “I’ve been the only one of my kind for decades, until the birth of another about five years ago,” Mercy concluded.

  My heart seized, and I couldn’t help the furtive glance at Ghan. While his jaw had slightly tightened, he succeeded in keeping a stoic expression. I cursed myself again for forgetting my face was exposed. Mercy’s eyes narrowing hinted that she had noticed.

  “Another?” I asked with feigned innocence.

  “A request for bids appeared on underground collector channels, then was put on hold when a potential buyer asked if Guldan hybrids also had powers. Apparently, the seller didn’t have that answer yet.”

  “Do they?” I asked.

  She stared at me for a while. I understood her hesitation, but I had done my share. It was now her turn to do a bit of a leap of faith.

  “Yes,” she admitted, reluctantly.

  I raised an inquisitive eyebrow, waiting for her to expand. The look she gave me back expressed clearly this was as far as she would go.

  I’ll let you have this one for now.

  “Do you know what has happened to the Sisters who were held here?” I asked, changing the subject.

  A smile returned to her face. Smug. Taunting. I couldn’t tell if I wanted to laugh or punch her. She had an attitude that reminded me of Lee’s. Hard to hate yourself even when disliking being on the receiving end.

  “As a matter of fact, I do. We should talk face-to-face. Come on board my ship.”

  Everyone tensed a
nd a low growl rumbled from Ghan’s chest. Mercy burst out laughing. I realized then that I couldn’t see anyone else on the deck with her, the view too narrowed around her chair.

  “Relax, big boy,” she said, giving Ghan a far too appreciative once-over.

  It was my turn to growl.

  “He’s claimed,” I snarled.

  “Way to go, baby sis. Nice catch,” she said, smirking. It faded suddenly as she sobered. “Like you said, a Veredian doesn’t harm another Veredian, so you have nothing to fear.”

  “My ship is bigger, we’d be more comfortable here,” I replied.

  She laughed. “Bigger isn’t always better. Well…” she added, her eyes flicking toward Ghan meaningfully, setting my teeth on edge. “Okay, sometimes it is. But mine has what you want.”

  That piqued my curiosity.

  “Hang on.” Mercy tapped something on the console integrated into her chair’s armrest.

  Kamala and I exchanged a look. We had both grown up on Xamora so finding out what had happened to the Sisters was especially dear to us. What, or rather who, was she going to show us? Could it be Elder Omira?

  My heart seized again at the thought of the Elder Sister who had consoled me for countless nights as I cried my little heart out in the days and weeks that followed Gruuk taking me away from my mother. But it wasn’t Omira’s wizened face that entered the screen to stand next to Mercy’s chair.

  The long, curly, midnight-blue hair, the light-grey eyes, and tattooed forehead I hadn’t seen in twelve years forced me out of my chair.

  “Eryon,” I whispered in shock.

  “Oh Goddess…” Kamala breathed out.

  “Hello, Aleina,” Eryon said. “How is my daughter?”

  * * *

  My discomfort entering the Guldan ship faded the moment I stood face-to-face with my sister. Veredians were naturally drawn to each other but blood pulled the loudest. Even though our features were a dead giveaway of our lineage, the Blood Bond tugged at my heart the minute the shuttle door opened, and I saw Mercy standing with the greeting party.

  Like me, I believed she had intended to keep a polite distance, but our limbs had a mind of their own. Within seconds, we had closed the distance between us and were clinging to each other like two drowning kids. However she came to be conceived didn’t matter. This was my blood kin, my only remaining sibling from my Mother.

  We released each other with a certain degree of embarrassment over our emotional display. Eryon saved me from further awkwardness by stepping in front of me. Hands crossed over his heart, he inclined his head in the formal Korlethean greeting. I responded with the Veredian salutation for relatives and loved ones by placing my hand on my heart then touching his heart with it.

  “From my heart to yours, brother.”

  He placed his hand over mine, still on his chest, and gave it a gentle squeeze before letting go. I could still see the sorrow lingering in his eyes since the death of my sister, his soulmate. Nothing could ever replace her loss, but I hoped reuniting at last with their child would soothe some of his pain.

  “This is Ghan Delphin, my mate, and Amalia’s adopted big brother.”

  The two males exchanged polite greetings. Eryon visibly repressed the urge to question him about Amalia.

  “There’s someone else who’s eager to see you,” Mercy said. “This way.”

  She gestured with her head for us to follow. I bit my tongue to keep from asking about the rest of her crew, who I had yet to see. Despite the unease of being aboard a Guldan ship far too reminiscent of The Revenant—Gruuk’s ship—its familiarity, or at least illusion thereof, also relieved some tension.

  We walked down the quiet corridors, our boots resonating loudly on the dark metal floor-plating. The ship was in excellent condition, the light grey walls, also made of some kind of alloy, almost shone under the bright lights recessed in the ceiling. We passed a number of doors, including the command deck, before reaching the end of the hallway which led to what used to be the training room on The Revenant. The doors slid silently open to reveal a huge mess hall.

  My heart leapt at the sight of dozens of familiar faces. But one held my attention.

  “Elder Omira,” I whispered.

  “Hello, child,” she said.

  I ran up to her, and she braced for impact as I pulled her into my embrace more roughly than intended.

  “Don’t break her, silly girl,” Mercy said teasingly.

  Ghan, Eryon, and Mercy indulged my making the rounds, reconnecting with the Sisters I had missed so dearly. As I completed the tour, it struck me that they were all older females, mostly beyond their fifties and sixties. Where were the younger ones? Where were the children?

  I cast a furtive glance at Ghan. His expression told me the same question already troubled him. Of course, while I had lost myself in the moment, professional as always, he’d been assessing our situation and any potential threat. I wanted to believe my carelessness stemmed more from trusting that he had my back rather than any real negligence on my part. Sadly, I couldn’t swear to it, and it shamed me.

  Again.

  Mercy was my blood kin, Eryon was also family through Sevina and Amalia, but the Goddess only knew how life under Gruuk’s influence might have affected them. What if he, too, had been brainwashed?

  My sister noticed my change in mood. Once more, I needed to remind myself to control my expression without my helmet.

  “You’re wondering about the others, I’m guessing,” Mercy said, taking a more somber tone.

  I frowned and nodded.

  “They are split among the five ships,” she said. “This is the command ship, with the most fire power, and best defenses. It’s also where I’ve kept the most dangerous of the Sisters.”

  “Dangerous?” Ghan asked.

  “It appears the Xamora compound was most heavily used as part of my brother’s assassin program.”

  My back stiffened. We hadn’t brought up Varrek in her presence yet, wondering how much she knew of his whereabouts and actions. The casual way she mentioned him left me wondering. I resisted the urge to look at Ghan. He was far too good at hiding his emotions and handling such situations. He wouldn’t be looking at me but would keep the same impassive expression while studying every single tell from his target.

  “That was Varrek’s program? Not Gruuk’s?” Ghan asked.

  “No. My father wouldn’t have used us that way.”

  Ghan raised a dubious eyebrow, echoing my own thoughts.

  “He wouldn’t have,” Mercy bit out. “Again, I won’t defend my father to you, but there is much you don’t know about him, so don’t make assumptions. If you want to know the facts about what’s going on, I’ll be happy to share them with you. But if you’re just going to wipe your asses with it, then spare me the trouble.”

  Ghan snorted.

  “It appears Maheva’s daughters all have the same attitude issues. No offense meant, Seha Vrok.”

  “Don’t Seha me. The name is Mercy. And it’s not attitude, it’s sass.” She flicked her dark hair over a shoulder in a gesture that screamed attitude. “As I was saying, Varrek started this whole mess after father died.”

  Omira nodded in confirmation.

  “He had drones in multiple compounds, though not all of them. Father had forbidden me from messing with the fortresses until after his death.”

  “Gruuk knew when he would die?” Ghan asked.

  She shrugged. “Yes, of course.”

  “Why couldn’t you mess with them before?” I asked, biting my tongue not to make some snarky comment about leaving his business alone.

  “Because three different Oracles confirmed I’d be captured and sold.”

  Okay, fair enough.

  “I started raiding a little after his death. It took me a while to find the first fortress. He kept everything secret from me for my own safety. The most common drones I’ve found have been conditioned to kill Tuureans.”

  I nodded. “Yes, we’ve met a num
ber of those. One almost got me, too.”

  Mercy paled. “What?”

  “I was freeing them, or so I thought, and she stabbed me in the heart. My sister, Kamala, stabilized me enough to be rushed to the ship.”

  “Kamala!” Omira exclaimed, clutching at her heart with emotion.

  “Yes,” I said, smiling affectionately at the Elder. “She’s been with me for the past ten years. She is an amazing Warrior.”

  “She was always in such awe of you,” Omira reminisced fondly.

  My face heated, and I thanked the Goddess Kamala wasn’t here. She would have hidden her own embarrassment behind some smart-ass remark to rile me up.

  “Most common drones?” Ghan asked, refocusing us all on the topic at hand. “You’ve met other types?”

  “Yes,” Mercy said, her expression turning somber.

  Omira shuddered and hugged herself while the other Sisters seemed just as uncomfortable.

  “We call them Moles. They’re truly time bombs,” Mercy said. “They don’t even know they are conditioned. A specific event, word, person, or the Goddess knows what else will trigger them into action.”

  “Killing?” I asked.

  Mercy shook her head. “Not necessarily. Anything from sabotaging the ship, setting us off course, sending a distress signal on a Guldan frequency, drugging everyone on board, you name it. And yes, all of the above have happened. We only avoided disaster because of a number of safety measures instated on all of my ships.”

  Ghan whistled through his teeth. That was indeed a messed-up situation.

  “But that’s not the worst part,” Eryon interjected.

  Really? How can it get any worse?

  “We have sorted all the Sisters based on who we knew for a fact were clean, who were definitely brainwashed, and then those we were unsure of.” He hesitated for a second, casting an uncertain look at Mercy, who nodded for him to proceed. “The truth is, we can’t be a hundred percent sure who is and who isn’t. As you recall, they could put everyone to sleep through the ventilation system. So, while I’m pretty damn sure I haven’t been conditioned, I can’t swear to it.”

  “Goddess,” I whispered, horrified.