His uniform was ripped and charred, his body seemed to have suffered burns that had yet to heal also. He raised his head. One of his eyes was swollen shut but the other seemed to look into her soul. "Rachel," her father said. "Is that really you?"
Rachel attempted to dislodge the lump in her throat by coughing. It didn't work. Instead she cleared her throat louder than she wanted. Reynaldo and Maggie were standing there looking back and forth she and her father. "It's me," was all she could get out.
He smiled at her despite a fat lip. "Come give your father a hug." He lifted his arms and grunted in pain.
"I don't want to hurt you," Rachel said. In reality, she didn't want to face her father. Yes, she was concerned for his safety but was she ready to embrace him again?
Her father frowned and lowered his arms. "I understand. Honestly, though, it looks worse than it is."
"In this instance, I think it is worse than it looks. It's likely you have internal bleeding and possibly organ damage," Bridgette said, crossing her arms.
"That would explain why the nanites aren't healing my outside appearance yet." He closed his eyes. "George agrees with your assessment. I see you learned a few things from your husband."
"Anyone who spends enough time with that man will pick up at least something useful," Bridgette replied. Her face softened. "You need to lie down and rest. Then you can tell us what happened."
Her father waved away Bridgette's concerns. "Bah, I don't need to sleep right now." He eyed one of the benches. "But I will have a seat."
Rachel brought him a glass of water. "Would you like something to eat?"
"Is it real food or synthetic?"
She gave him a wry smile. "What do you think?"
He took a large drink of water. "I think I need to eat something to keep up with the nanites. I guess gruel will have to do."
"Sorry we don't have the culinary capacity of the Nightblade."
He didn't say anything, just stared at a wall.
"Can you tell us what the hell happened?" Bridgette asked.
Her father shook his head to clear it and focused on Bridgette and then looked to Rachel. "We were betrayed."
"By who?" Bridgette asked.
"One of the commanders. He rammed his dreadnought into us, but not before giving some sort of veiled code. 'For the glory of Rae,' or something like that."
Bridgette's face went white. "You're sure those were his exact words?"
"Yes." He narrowed his eyes. "Why? What do you know?"
"The Cult of Rae have been around for centuries, in one form or another. Their names have changed but we always found a connection to that cult when we dug deeper."
"Did they advocate the return of the Krai'kesh? Because this cult seems to be in bed with the bastards."
Bridgette shook her head. "I never gave much credence to them. I figured it was another religious cult like the other few dozen that pop up all the time."
"Well, they're apparently ready to die for their cause and, if the fleet is any indication, they have sleepers hidden everywhere. Which I suppose goes with their cult being around for so many years."
"It isn't the first time we've dealt with insurrection," Bridgette said.
Rachel's father rolled his eyes. "No need to remind me. My wrists still hurt from those shackles fourteen hundred years later."
"My point is," Bridgette said, taking on a lecturing tone, "we've gotten through rebellion before and we'll do it again."
"In the past we haven't had the Krai'kesh breaking down the door as we cleaned house."
"I like a good challenge."
Rachel cleared her throat. "I hate to break up this family reunion," she didn’t hate to do it, as the familiarity between her aunt and father reminded her of what she'd given up, "but what are we doing next?"
"Getting revenge," her father said, his gaze fierce as he met her eyes. "We make every single traitor to the Federation wish they'd never been born. And then we take the fight to the Krai'kesh and show them what they're really up against."
"We can start on Tar Ebon," Bridgette said.
"Tar Ebon?" Rachel asked. "Isn't that a bit," she waved a hand vaguely, "straightforward? Going right for the head instead of the lieutenants?"
"We have resources on Tar Ebon. The FIA headquarters is there, Fleet Command, the president."
"We can't trust Fleet Command," Dawyn said. "Not after the insurrection I saw among the admiralty. It is rampant."
"Well, I can guarantee there are no traitors in FIA headquarters waiting to betray me."
"Fine, set course for Tar Ebon, Frank." She looked between Dawyn and Bridgette. "I hope you're right about this. We just painted the Renegade - I don't want it scratched."
Chapter 7- Abandon Hope
The door to the bridge of the Goldstar slid open and Selene, Emma, and the remaining four pilots of Victory Squadron were led, in stun-cuffs, inside. Emma also wore a collar around her neck to suppress her magic. Selene's brother, Frederick, stood with his hands clasped behind his back as in the distance more Krai'kesh vessels appeared, firing at unseen targets she knew were the surviving House Vivendi employees she'd assured would be given safe passage out of the system. Men, women, children, all trusting her. All dead or dying.
Frederick turned to her and smiled. "Ah, there's my little sister."
Selene spat on the floor to show just how much his false familiarity mattered to her. "You gave me your word," she said point blank.
His frown faded a little before he renewed it and smiled even more. "Come on, you can't be mad at me. It's just business. You know how it goes."
"Monster."
"You don't mean that," Frederick said. "Take it back." He had always been sensitive to the opinions of others. He desired to be liked by everyone.
"You're a despicable, detestable, deplorable monster with no compassion and I am horrified we're related."
"You shouldn't have said that, little sister." He snapped his fingers and Emma and Selene were dragged to the side by the guards. The other four pilots remained where they were.
Frederick drew his pistol, a gold-plated coilgun, and came to stand a couple of meters in front of the four pilots. He raised his pistol. "This is the punishment for your disrespect."
"No!" Selene shouted.
Frederick pulled the trigger. The bullet exploded through the head of the first pilot, blood splattering everywhere. He did not pause and shot the second pilot, then the third. He looked at Selene as he aimed at the fourth pilot. "You did this, sister." He pulled the trigger and the fourth pilot died. Blood and brain matter seeped out onto the deck of the bridge. "Clean this up," he snapped and a guard exited the bridge, presumably to get the cleaning crew. "What a pity," he said, no remorse in his voice.
Selene glared at him, wishing she could shoot lasers from her eyes. She clenched her fists. "Am I going to be next?"
Frederick's eyes widened in surprise. "No! Of course not. You're family, I wouldn't hurt family."
I would, Selene thought. I will kill you given the chance. Would she really, though? She thought back to her youth when she and her brother would play together during the carefree days before he went off to mentor with Father. That changed him. He went from a caring, if vain, young boy to a cold-hearted ruthless man. "For now," was what she said.
Frederick didn't seem to hear her comment. "Ah, our guest of honor has arrived. Let us go down to the docking bay and greet him."
Guest of honor? Who is he talking about?
The guards ushered them down to the docking bay, Frederick leading the way. Fighters were nowhere to be seen. Instead an organic-looking vessel sat there. No docking clamps touched it. The Krai'kesh were aboard the ship. A hole opened in the side of the ship, like an airlock but with no visible doorway before it spiraled open. The same material that covered the ship flowed down to form a ramp. A tall bi-pedal Krai'kesh, larger than the commanders she'd seen before, exited the ship. Four tentacle-like appendages waved from the rear of its h
ead. It carried a staff and used it like a walking stick. Behind it followed four of the smaller commanders Selene was accustomed to seeing. The large Krai'kesh stopped in front of Frederick.
"Honored Overseer Harkesh, welcome to the Goldstar." He bowed and extended a hand.
"Is this the Eternal?" he asked in fluent Common. He raised a hand and pointed a claw at Emma, ignoring Frederick's word and hand.
Frederick cleared his throat, a sign Selene knew meant he was either nervous or annoyed. She hoped he was annoyed and showed it so the Krai'kesh overseer would skewer him with his staff. "Yes, Overseer. Our trap worked just as you said it would. They suspected nothing."
"She is punier than I expected," the overseer said. He grabbed Emma's face with a claw. She grit her teeth and glared at him but did not speak. "It will not be a challenge to break her."
"I'll never break," Emma declared. "Do your worst."
The overseer laughed, a horrifying evil laugh. "Perhaps I was mistaken. She has a fire in her. But all fires must go out eventually, when starved enough for fuel or air. I think I shall enjoy breaking her." His gaze swept to Selene. She felt terror as their eyes met. An evil seemed to emanate from the overseer and it sent a chill up her spine. "And this one? Is she an Eternal also?"
"No, honored Overseer, she is of no consequence."
The overseer turned back to Frederick. "I will be the judge of who is of consequence or not. She is alive and standing before me for a reason. Explain or I will cut her down."
Selene swallowed hard.
"She is my sister," Frederick said quickly. Why was he so reluctant to reveal their family ties?
"You hold your own sister captive?" the overseer asked, his tone neutral.
"She...betrayed our house. She is being punished for her indiscretion and actions against House Artois."
The overseer turned back to Selene and lifted his staff. He thrust it up beneath Selene's chin. She could feel the sharp tip of it almost breaking the skin. "My people execute traitors."
"Of course, sir, but we are trying to rehabilitate her. To change her mind and return her to the fold."
"A waste of time," the overseer said, but he lowered his staff. "But she is no concern to me. I will take the Eternal." He barked something in his own language and two commanders stepped forward. They each took one of Emma’s arms and lifted her up.
"Of course, my lord," Frederick bowed again. “My life for Rae."
"The god-emperor is pleased," Overseer Harkesh said. "Continue to please him and his favor will be upon you. Fail him and you will wish for death."
"I understand, my lord," Frederick said, his voice shaky and sounding uncertain. How committed was he, really?
Selene locked eyes with Emma. Emma gave her an infinitesimal nod, as if to say everything would be fine. She claimed she would resist the efforts of the overseer to break her, but was that bravado? Or would she truly resist? I will rescue you, she thought, despite her implant being blocked from accessing the network aboard the Goldstar.
Overseer Harkesh turned and stalked back to his ship and ascended the ramp. The other four commanders followed, two dragging Emma along as she kicked and squirmed. The ramp retracted when all were aboard and the side of the ship closed back up. It rose from the deck, turning and left.
Frederick shivered. "He gives me the creeps."
"Why did you get into bed with the Krai'kesh, Frederick? What did they offer you?"
Frederick blinked. "Why, eternal life. The god-emperor showed us his power and told us of His coming. He said to follow him or perish. Father, being a smart man, decided to side with the Krai'kesh."
"The Krai'kesh have only been in our galaxy for a few weeks," Selene said, confused.
He made a tutting noise. "Oh, dear sister, how naive you are. The Krai'kesh have been in our galaxy for more years than you know." He smiled like he used to when he knew something she didn't.
That was the first she had heard of such a thing. "How long?"
Frederick shrugged. "Long enough to plant followers and agents throughout the galaxy. Even now a Federation-wide coup is being executed by people from all walks of life. Finally a use for the poor. The Federation is dead, it just doesn't know it yet."
"You really think the Krai'kesh will give you, a traitor, eternal life? Don't you see they're just using you?" She waved her hands around for emphasis. "They're trying to divide us," she made a chopping motion, "so they have an easier time exterminating us."
"Save your breath, sister. I will not hear more lies from you." He paused to make sure she wouldn't continue speaking. "Now, I have accommodations prepared for you so you may rest in comfort."
Selene laughed. "Rest in comfort? As a prisoner?"
"You will be restricted in your movements outside of your room for your own safety. We wouldn't want you to hurt yourself or anyone else of course." He turned to exit the docking bay. The guards prodded Selene to follow.
Like you, she thought. "So a gilded cage."
"If you would prefer a... less accommodating room that can certainly be arranged."
She thought perhaps she should take an ordinary prison cell as a way of protesting the capture of Emma and as a symbol of solidarity. But no, she needed to keep her strength up if she was to escape when the time was right. Only by playing along and remaining some place where she could get plenty of food, water, and rest could she hope to do so. She took a deep breath. Time to eat crow. "No, you're correct, brother. I am grateful for the room you have prepared for me. Please forgive me for my outburst."
Her submissive comment seemed to satisfy her brother, for his dangerous frown morphed into a large smile. He clapped. "Excellent!" He looked to the guards. "Please show my sister to her quarters." He waved at the stun-cuffs. "And get rid of those abysmal things. She has nowhere to run."
Be careful cornering a caged animal, Selene thought. "Where are you going next?" she asked.
"Home. Our mission here is complete and Father wishes to stay out of things for a bit longer before we directly intervene in the war. He will be...surprised...to see you."
Surprised was an understatement. She would be lucky to leave his presence alive.
The guards escorted her to her "quarters," removed her stun-cuffs, and shoved her inside. A lavish cabin with a canopy bed, full sani-room with a hot tub, and gilded mirror met her. The click of a lock being engaged broke the illusion that she was on a luxury cruise liner. She pulled back a pair of drapes, revealing a large rectangular duraglass viewport. Outside she could see House Artois ships congregating near the Goldstar and Krai'kesh ships beyond. She shut the shades in disgust and flopped down on the canopy bed.
Her thoughts drifted to Derek and the rest of the fleet. Her brother had mentioned betrayal - had the fleet been ambushed like her squadron had? If so, were they even still alive? She couldn't imagine the Independence being destroyed, but judging by how many Krai'kesh vessels were in one system it seemed likely they could overpower the Independence if she were beset with traitors and Krai'kesh ships.
Home, she thought. How would she face her father? Was her brother right - did he want her dead? What about her mother? Would she fall in line with her father in disowning her or would she embrace her long-lost daughter? She had a week until she found out.
***
Selene entered the dining chamber, feeling uncomfortable in the dress her brother insisted she wear. It still smelled of plastic from being manufactured by nanites. They need to clean their nozzles, she thought. Her tutor in school had stressed that when they discussed nanite engineering. He said "Nanite manufacturing is only as good as the raw materials. If you have poor components no number of nanites and no amount of processing time can make a good product. Nanites speed up the manufacturing process drastically but they can still suffer from the same flaws of older processes." That was one of the few lectures she remembered on that topic - she'd daydreamed during most of the others.
His brother's face lit up when he saw her, partially
because he was happy to see her but also because the light reflected off his face due to how much make-up he was wearing. When had her brother become so effeminate? He stood and extended his arms out in front of him. "You look marvelous, little sister."
Selene rolled her eyes and tugged at the portion of her dress that draped her legs. Must he always remind her she was his younger sister? And what compelled him to think she liked dresses. "You know I don't like dresses." In fact, she had worn dresses as a girl only under extreme duress, preferring to wear trousers or shorts, much to her mother's chagrin.
Her words did not seem to faze him. "Please, sit, I've had your favorite dish prepared." He ushered and servants emerged from a hidden door carrying trays of food. They set three trays in front of Selene and opened them one-by-one. Inside the first was a roast beef, sliced. The second tray contained a bowl with macaroni and cheese, while the third contained a strawberry hash she used to love.
Despite her hatred for her brother, and her situation, she felt a moment of joy seeing the food she loved as a child placed before her. "This must have cost a fortune," she said. "The beef, the strawberries."
Her brother waved away her observation. "Only the best for the flagship of House Artois. We've improved our supply chain since you left, sister. Beef supply has been up five percent and strawberry production up three percent year-over-year for ten years. Business is booming."
Selene felt the urge to talk shop - to ask her brother about the business, the finances, how things were going. After all, that was what they discussed when they were children and later teenagers - it had all been about the business. But she stopped herself. Don't succumb to Stockholm Syndrome, she thought. She didn't know where Stockholm was or the origin of the phrase, but she knew what it meant; if she weren't careful she would fall into the trap of sympathizing with her captors and perhaps even wanting to remain there. The thought horrified her, so instead she took a bite of pasta smothered in cheese, chewed and said, "Business built on the backs of the working poor." A true statement, though one overlooked for most of her life. She had been blind.
Ruin: A Seven Stars Novel (Dark Tide Trilogy Book 3) Page 8