by Clay Kronke
"That was close," Bran said, kneeling next to Petra, who was crouched down against a wall, catching her breath. "Thanks."
Petra waved dismissively, not really looking at him, but staring out into the street as the cacophony of noise grew ever louder.
"Hey," he said, putting his hands on her shoulders. "You okay?"
Petra blinked, then turned to look up at him. Her eyes were wide, and there was a look of barely concealed panic in her expression. Her breathing was fast and shallow, and she was working hard to keep her composure. He shifted closer, brushing loose strands of hair out of her face and cupping her chin in his hands. "Hey," he said again, trying to keep his own voice calm. "We can do this. We're almost there." He pointed. "Two blocks in that direction is an Underground access. Fire hasn't gotten there yet, and everything we're seeing here is just debris being blown over by the wind. We can make it. Just stay with me, okay?"
Her breathing steadied, and after a moment, she nodded. Bran smiled, helped her back to her feet, then gestured toward the blaze. Petra took a couple of preparatory breaths, then the two of them set off at as quick a pace as they could manage, the air searing around them as they ran.
A block on, Bran pointed ahead and Petra could see a large protrusion rising up out of the pavement at the corner of two large avenues. It was all diagonal lines and shining steel but was not much more than a complex overhang sheltering a wide set of stairs leading down into the ground. She nodded, coughing, and the two of them veered right, crossed the street, and made their way up to the entrance. Petra stumbled to a halt, however, as they reached the top of the long stairway.
"What is it?" Bran asked, following her gaze. The stairs led down into darkness, and it was impossible to tell how deep it went. "Looks like the power might be out in this section," Bran offered, but Petra wasn't listening. All she could see was a dark cave winding down into the unknown, and her legs would not carry her any farther.
"Come on," Bran urged. "Even if it takes us a bit to get to a working platform, we'll be safer underground." Petra shook her head. She thought she saw a flicker of orange light down in the darkness, but it might have been her imagination.
The intense blast of hot air from underground, on the other hand, was decidedly not. "Nope," Petra said, grabbing Bran's arm and dragging him out of the way of the sudden exhaust of heat from the Underground that brought up with it a cloud of ash and smoke.
"Yeah, bad idea," Bran said as the ground shook. "Now we run." They got up and sprinted back the way they came, away from the encroaching wall of fire. Petra looked back to see a plume of flame rising out of the Underground entry, followed by more falling debris from two buildings back. The shadows of the front pair of dragons were now crossing over the buildings in front of them, and Petra was starting to feel suffocated by the heated air around them.
They paused to take momentary shelter in the entryway of a larger building as another dragon flew overhead and stone chunks rained down around them. They were nearly alone, as it seemed most people who had made it to the streets had fled outward, leaving only a few spare stragglers. As they waited for falling debris to abate, another two men ran up from the street, joining them under the overhang, panting heavily. One was an elf with short hair wearing a uniform of some kind. The other was human, with shoulder-length hair and a braided beard, wearing a long, intricately patterned robe in dark shades of blue. He looked harried and disheveled, and the robe had scorch marks along its lower folds, but both men seemed uninjured, though the elf looked rather more rattled.
"Hurry," the man in the robe urged the elf. "We're almost there, just another block." The elf shook his head, refusing to move.
"Are you headed for the Underground?" Bran asked. "Because this platform's not safe."
The robed man turned to face Bran, seeming to notice him for the first time. "No," he replied. "There's shelter under my parish, it should keep us safe." He put a hand over a golden icon hanging around his neck as he spoke, and Petra realized he must be a member of some kind of clergy.
He turned back to his elven friend. "There's not much time, we must be quick. Are you with me?"
The elf turned his wide eyes from the robed man to Bran and Petra, who had also stood, readying themselves to run. Bran stepped closer and offered his own hand. "We'll go together," he said, then looked back to Petra, who nodded. They both had heard the word shelter, and figured it was as good a place as any to head. The robed man took a second to appraise the two of them, then quickly agreed. "Yes," he said, putting his arm around the elf's shoulder. "We'll go together. Come."
He and Bran helped the elf to his feet and the four of them stepped to the edge of the overhang. Looking out and up first, they ran into the street, the robed man taking the lead. They crossed over another block, then emptied out into a large open area filled with greenery surrounding a low, dramatic building of dark wood with arched doors and a sweeping roof covered in small, black metallic tiles. They could see two other people standing in the doorway, ushering in others who had run across from other areas of the city.
As they sprinted, shadows passed over the courtyard, and the wall of flame was now visible between the buildings a block to the south. They rushed up the steps into the main entrance, the heavy door closing behind them, plunging them into darkness.
• • •
Mira made her way down the outer stair, taking two or three at a time, and while it wasn't nearly as quick as taking a lift, it did afford her an unimpeded view of everything that was happening out in the city beyond, though she was still having trouble believing the enormity of what she was seeing. The last two weeks of dragon attacks had started small and escalated, but even the greatest destruction she had seen had been on a relatively small scale.
This, however, was no out of the way colony on an undeveloped world. This was Aelden's capital, the crown jewel of one of the oldest and most advanced civilizations in the sector, and Mira couldn't fathom the audacity of whoever was behind this. An attack on the elven homeworld didn't make strategic sense. Her people hadn't been involved in conflict on any scale in generations, and she couldn't think of anything elves had been responsible for lately that would provoke this level of retaliation, if that was even what this was about. Similarly, provoking what was largely a peaceful culture wouldn't bring the elven people into any new conflict. All it would really accomplish would be wholesale destruction, the kind of senseless violence she had a hard time comprehending. It was an overwhelming waste, and each stairwell she took, each time she passed in front of a window, she was forced to watch as more of her childhood went up in flames.
Another tremor shook through her, and this time she honestly couldn't tell if she was shaking from rage or another seismic tremor. She shook her head, swallowed that feeling, and forced herself to continue.
She made it down to the ground level and stepped out into the main rotunda, sprinting around the inner circle toward the main entryway, the seismic vibrations now an almost uninterrupted rumble. She passed through the archway into the lobby but slid to a halt as she stepped into a strong current of searing air. Much of the glass across the expansive front entryway had shattered out, leaving a bay of open framework through which the heated air from outside was being pushed in. And she could see the roiling wave of fire was now consuming the buildings on the opposite side from the front courtyard.
She mentally calculated the distance to the front doors and considered her options. Since this was likely a controlled burn, it would undoubtedly end at the edge of the city, so if she could get out and across the river, she shouldn't have to go far into the forest to be out of the blast radius.
However, once she was outside, she would still have to make it away from the wall of dragonfire that was almost certainly engulfing everything immediately surrounding the council complex and still make it all the way around to the rear of the structure. But going through the building woul
d also be problematic, as the power loss would have locked down certain sections, and she had no idea if she'd be able to make it through to one of the other exits.
Either way she looked at it, she wouldn't have enough time.
There was a crack like thunder, and Mira looked up to see the building directly across the courtyard rupture outward in a shattering explosion of glass, metal and flame. A rush of dragonfire flooded outward with the blast, the shockwave crossing the courtyard and hurling debris up against the outer walls of the council complex. The building shook with the impact and flame was forced through the entryway into the front chamber.
Mira, realizing there was only one place left for her to go, spun on her heel and dashed back into the main rotunda away from the lobby archway as a roiling flood of dragonfire flowed toward her, washing over every open surface. Impact tremors shook the entirety of the building, and she could hear a cacophony of breaking glass as windows on every level shattered outward, raining glass down into the atrium.
Mira reached the airshaft at the center of the rotunda, ducking her head against the falling glass, and leapt up to the railing, planting both feet as she hurled herself as far out into the center space as possible. She brought her arms and legs together, bent at the waist and dove down into the mist of the waterfall, disappearing into the darkness of the underground chasm.
leap of faith
Voss sat alone at a small table, a bank of harsh lights overhead casting deep shadows in the otherwise empty room. Her wrists were bound in front of her, latched to a brace in the center of the table. She was beginning to wonder how much longer she would have to wait alone in the room, when the door across from her opened and Frakes walked in. Voss caught a glimpse of a pair of guards flanking the doorway before it closed again. Frakes sat down opposite, putting a data tablet down on the table in front of her, turning it on and scrolling to the end of a document. She then pulled out her handheld and put it on the table next to the tablet, all without so much as looking at Voss.
The dwarf smiled. "Any new leads?" she asked, only half sarcastic.
Frakes looked up from her tablet. "Cute."
"Come on blondie," Voss said. "You've made sure I'm a captive audience, least you can do is loop me in on what's going on."
Frakes leaned forward a bit. "It's Commander," she said. "And I don't share information."
"But you expect me to?" Voss bit. "I know we're not exactly on equal footing here," she rattled her wrist binders to punctuate, "but you gotta give me something. I don't really know how much help I can be otherwise," she finished with a shrug.
Frakes didn't look perturbed. "Don't worry," she said, "I'm well versed in your people's annoying habit of hanging onto information despite your best interests." She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I know I can't make you tell me anything. But I would hope you'd want to cooperate willingly, if not for your own sake, then for your uncle's."
Voss laughed. "You don't care even a tiny bit about Kale's well-being," she said. "You were ready to roast us all yesterday, Verstohl Treaty be damned."
Frakes looked surprised.
"What, you didn't think I knew about that?" Voss said.
"Did you also know that it's a non-binding agreement between seven worlds, of which mine isn't a part?" Frakes returned, recovering quickly. "Not that it matters, I somehow doubt you're trying to turn this into a discussion on interplanetary diplomacy."
"Your loss," Voss shrugged. "But I still don't know what you think I can give you on Kale. Until yesterday I hadn't been back on Vorsk in six years. And I hadn't even spoken to Kale in almost ten."
"And why should I believe you?"
"You don't have to," Voss said, smiling again. She was actually enjoying this. "You can ask Kale, he'll tell you the same thing. I have no particular loyalty to him."
"Really." Frakes raised an eyebrow. "The entire history of the Dwarven people would suggest otherwise."
"Fair enough," Voss admitted. "And normally you'd be right, but … no. Kale may technically be family, but he's an ass."
"Then why cover for him?"
"I'm not," Voss said. "I'm telling you that I don't know anything to cover for."
Frakes looked down at the document on her tablet. "You don't know why his ships have been seen prior to or during every dragon attack so far?"
Voss laughed. "That's what we were trying to find out."
"You don't know why Kale, a Dwarf Lord known for his reclusiveness," Frakes continued, "has been seen on three different Republic worlds in the last two months?"
Voss's bemusement slipped.
Frakes noticed. "Ah, you didn't know that one. You may be telling the truth," she smiled, gesturing dismissively, before her face hardened again. "But I need Kale," she finished, her voice several shades cooler.
Voss nodded, her mouth tight. "And I'm your leverage."
Frakes sat back in her chair, her smug smile back in place. "Good, you were paying attention," she said. "Don't worry, this will all be over soon."
She was interrupted by a buzz from her handheld. She picked it up, reading a message that Voss couldn't see, but she did watch as Frakes' expression flashed from confusion to shock to anger in quick succession.
"Problem?" Voss asked as casually as she could.
Frakes' face was tight. "No," she answered. "We're done for now." Without another word, she got up from the table and left Voss in the room as she walked back out into the hall. She left instructions for the guards then started down the corridor, making her way back to the command deck. There was another buzz from her handheld as she walked, and she tapped the communicator in her ear, listening for a second.
"I saw," she said, answering the voice on the other end. "How many casualties?"
Her mouth drew up in a tight line as she listened. "And it was confirmed?" she prompted. "Actual dragons? Under working shields?"
Her pace quickened as she listened. She had counted the reliability of a proven technology as a significant factor in her running theory. This would change things. "What does this do to our case?" she asked as she stepped onto a lift, heading up to the control tower.
She didn't like what she heard. "I disagree," she frowned. "It shifts our focus, but they're still at the top of our list…" She rolled her eyes. "Fine, you do that," she continued. "I'll put more pressure on the dwarves. Even if they're a tool, they're still my only way in right now." The lift stopped, and she got off on the command level, passing through the security foyer before stepping onto the bridge itself.
A large semicircular space surrounded by wide angling viewports that looked out onto the front bulkheads of Kriton's forward superstructure, the bridge was the central command station for all the Republic's interplanetary fleet operations. Lining the front under the viewports were various tactical stations overseeing ship's functions, defense, weapons, communications, and interfleet coordination. On a raised platform overlooking the space was the command deck, where helm and navigation for the Kriton itself were stationed, behind which sat the captain of the ship, a heavyset man named Groff.
"Status report, Captain," Frakes said as she stepped up beside.
Groff was watching out the front viewport, where the upper hemisphere of a ruddy brown world could be seen, wreathed in clouds and dotted with patches of green. "We've entered orbit above Vorsk, Commander," Groff said. "Communications standing by."
"Thank you, Captain," Frakes said. "Open a channel."
The comm tech activated a line and the image of Kale came up on one of the side monitors. He looked annoyed.
"Commander," he said. "I appreciate you not making me wait nearly as long this time."
"Lord Kale, I'll get right to the point," Frakes said. "We need to have a conversation, and it would be better if we did so in person."
"You'll forgive me, I'm sure," Kale said, and his voice sounded
strained, "if I decline your invitation. I don't have anything particular to say that I haven't already, and I'm quite busy at the moment."
Frakes waved the comment away. "Yes, yes, I'm sure your gambling addiction must be terribly pressing, but I'm afraid I must insist. You see, one of my current guests requires the presence of your company, and I simply can't let her go until we've all had a chance to sit down and talk." She let that hang in the air as the implication sunk in.
Kale leaned in, his brow creasing. "Her?" he repeated, drawing out the pronunciation of the word.
Frakes smiled. "You didn't tell me you had a niece. She really is a charming young woman."
• • •
The proximity alert sounded, rousing Aris from a light doze. He blinked his eyes, glanced over his monitors, yawned, then reached over to pull back a lever, cutting the slipstream drive and bringing his ship back into normal space. Half visible through the front viewport, a silver and blue planet hung quietly in space.
"We land in fifteen minutes," he said, turning to Gareth, who was still asleep in his chair. Aris shook his head. When he had gotten back to Vermithrax, he had found Gareth siting on the floor of the hangar leaning against the landing skid and had to help him up into the ship. After digging around in the medic bay, the wizard had settled down in the copilot chair and slept most of the rest of the trip.
Aris reached over and poked his shoulder. "Hey, we're here," he said. "Look alive."
Gareth frowned, but didn't open his eyes. "Rather stay dead a few more hours, if it's all the same to you," he said.
"Not feeling much better?" Aris asked.
Gareth shrugged, blinking as he straightened up in his chair. "Nausea seems to be gone, but I'm still dizzy," he said. "I'm not sure what nerve of theirs I hit, but it short-circuited all of mine."
"Well, we've got a little time," Aris said.
"Fifteen minutes," Gareth nodded, closing his eyes again. "I heard."
Aris turned back to his comm console and keyed it active. "Veil, what's your status?" he said. After a few seconds of no response, he repeated, then checked the comm line.