Defender of the Empire
Book 3
Chaos
By Catherine Beery
Cover by Andrew Beery
Copyright Febuary 2015
Three cycles … Three cycles is both a short length of time and a long one. Longer when the jackals howl and the storm batters against your flimsy shelter …
The enemies of the Spectral Empire have arrived and traitors have shown themselves. But so, too, has an ancient enemy most have forgotten. Besieged by three distinct attackers, the Spectral Empire finds itself clinging to existence. As tough as two of the enemies are to fight, the third is impossible — the one who you can’t see, yet who devours you and any other living being before it. To have a chance against the traitors and Zar’dakens, the Soul Shadows must go.
But how does one fight a Shadow?
My name is Rylynn Sinclair and I don’t know the answer to that … at least, not yet.
Chapter 1 I thought you knew…
Cycle 2865
Prime World Forestrium
Imperial System
Spectral Empire
Commander Race Quinn didn’t know quite what to do with himself. Needing activity, he decided to stretch his legs. Normally, this would see him walking the corridors of the Hail Mary, where he would see to his duties. And they were usually the ones away from his desk. File perusing was only good just before the caffeine kicked in. Race was well aware of how atypical that was, as most people fell asleep staring at reports and figures. For whatever reason, though, it gently eased his brain into wakefulness. The caffeine saw to it that it didn’t take too long. Then he had to do something more tangible.
Problem was, orders and duties had seen fit to leave him in an inactive limbo.
The Hail Mary was once again undergoing repairs. Race had heard some of the dock hands murmur that the Hail Mary must be cursed, since it was always returning just on this side of disaster. Knowing full well how superstitious some sailors were, even in these modern times, Race made to stamp the insidious rumors out when one of the crew took care of it. Race had stopped before anyone noticed him and watched as the older crewman shook his head at the dock hands. Because the man had been quiet till now, those around him had paid him heed.
“I would say the old girl is blessed, not cursed. Yes, we have come back with her beaten almost beyond recognition, but we came back. All those aboard the Hail Mary have returned alive, if a little worse for ware.”
“Not all,” A dock hand had protested. “I’ve heard the reports. Your lot has had casualties.”
The crewman nodded sadly. “Aye.” He raised his head and met the dock hand’s gaze. “Aye, but those poor men and women weren’t on the blessed ship. They were LFG pilots.” Race winced again at the memory of that observation. It was true. Even though the ship had suffered massive damage, the crew had been miraculously fortunate. True, there had been some wounded, but none had died, other than the pilots who had given their all in the fight against the traitors and the Zar’dakens.
The families had been informed and presented with the Imperial flag and the Legion Fleet’s crest. Neither token of appreciation brought the dead back, nor could the survivors’ pensions be paid to the families, but it was all that could be done. Usually, Race took it upon himself to be present at the presentation. He didn’t like it, but felt that he owed it to those who had served under him to be there. They had given everything, so informing and then trying to comfort their grieving families was nothing in comparison. Race knew Braeden felt the same way. But this time neither Braeden nor he had gone. This fact ate him alive, but orders and duty had left him no choice.
Ever since Race had seen Braeden depart from the Telmick vessel with Rylynn barely alive in a stasis bubble in his arms, Race had known that his friend and commanding officer was living in a hell he couldn’t even fathom. Braeden had become single-minded in getting Rylynn to the best medical house on Prima Imperium and had been irritable if anyone sought to distract him from his task. Race was Braeden’s friend and as such, could not let the man go alone in his grieving/reckless state.
Falling into step behind Braeden, Race had followed the man from where the Hail Mary had docked for repairs to an emergency transport to the medical house to the waiting room as the Masailen healers saw to Rylynn. Admiral L’Seral had joined them soon after. Race and the Admiral had sat in that horribly cramped room (although at first Race had thought it quite roomy and comfortable) and watched Braeden pace a trench into the flooring. Every time they tried to talk to him, Braeden would shut them up with a terse shake of his head.
Since Admiral L’Seral had come as a friend and was Braeden’s equal in rank anyway, she hadn’t taken exception. But Race could tell she was helplessly frustrated. He had known exactly how she felt, since that was the emotional quagmire he was in, as well. While they were also worried for Rylynn, neither had ever seen Braeden in the state he was in before. It was like looking at a completely different person. One who was desperate and willing to do anything, pay any price, to see the ones he cared about safe. The determination was what made Braeden the leader he was and something both his friends had seen before. It was the desperation that fueled it now that was new.
And terrifying.
Only hours later, after the nurse had come in to tell them that Rylynn was out of danger, but trapped in a coma, were L’Seral and Race able to get Braeden to stand still for a moment and tell them what had happened on Colony Lenti in clipped sentences. Good news: ex. Admiral Knight was dead. Bad news: in the process of killing him, Rylynn had almost joined Knight in death. Race didn’t doubt that the girl had almost bled out, not after seeing the forbidding, dark stains running down the front of Braeden’s blue uniform.
Even though he didn’t doubt that Rylynn had barely dodged Death’s scythe, Race still couldn’t understand how a single knife wound had done it. Even now it confused him. After all, the girl had walked away unscathed from a white blast hitting her in the back. From the stories he had heard, Rylynn had survived a lot of situations that should have killed her. Not only had she survived, but she had done so with tattered clothing being the only testament to her ordeals.
But now a single knife had nearly done her in.
Another thing that Race didn’t get was how a single knife wound could overwhelm a Medi-Comp to the point that it was no longer functional. Completely and utterly fired in a brain that was broken but still alive. There was something about the girl that had to be able to explain the incongruities. The problem, another problem, was Race couldn’t even begin to guess what it was.
After a few days of stably existing but not waking, Braeden had decided that it was time to move Rylynn from the capital. When the Masailen healers had acknowledged it would be safe enough for Rylynn to be moved, Braeden had been quick to see her onto a medical transport and had taken her to a place that he was convinced would be safe. Once again, Race followed his friend, though this time he was also told to come by both Admiral L’Seral and Braeden himself. Race had the feeling that L’Seral was afraid of Braeden going anywhere alone in his state of mind. The single mindedness had them both concerned and watchful. Why Braeden had wanted Race to come, Race didn’t really know. He assumed that Braeden was distantly aware of his own state and wanted the support. Race traveled with Braeden and wondered if his friend would tell him what was going through his mind. It was a good thing that he hadn’t held his breath while waiting for an answer. He would have died of asphyxiation and disappointment.
Race had been shocked when he discovered the coordinates that Braeden had entered into the navigation computer were for Forestrium, the ancestral birthplace, now protected wilds, of the human race. Once the h
ome of billions, it now served as a memorial tended by the loving care of the Foréss branch of the Imperial family. It was the last place Race imagined Braeden would bring Rylynn.
What right did Braeden think he had to bring a girl he hardly knew to a world that only the Imperial family called home? Others could visit, yes. But this wasn’t visiting. This was expecting to be treated like family.
Braeden wasn’t part of the Imperial family. Race had been Braeden’s friend for the past twelve years and ought to know important stuff like that.
But despite all reason, Braeden hadn’t been shown the door when he had come to the castle home of the. Instead, he had been ushered in with all haste and Rylynn was settled in her own room, attended by the family’s own doctors and nurses. They had been here for a couple days and Race still couldn’t understand it. Everything was surreal. And even stranger than everything else, the family knew Braeden. Not just a ‘knew of’ or ‘had met at that soiree the other night.’ No. They knew him. Though they acted like it had been some time since they had seen him last.
And since they knew Braeden, they treated Race as an honored guest. Which was nice, he thought coming back to the present, looking about the garden he found himself in. The Foréss lived in a castle, but it was humble and much cozier than the Spectral Palace. The garden courtyard he was in was lush with plants only found on Forestrium. While some of the shrubs were rather dull looking, he figured it wasn’t their looks that had earned them a spot in the garden. Signs before each shrub announced its name in three languages; the original culture’s, Latin, and Imperial. Beneath the names were uses and historical facts about the plant and where it naturally grew. It was an educational garden, but it was too well tended to be thought of in just that way. This was the brain child of someone who loved both horticulture and history.
“Are you enjoying the gardens, Commander?” Race startled and whirled around, searching for the cultured voice. He frowned, not able to find the lady who had spoken. Obviously at the advantage of being able to see him, the woman chuckled wryly. “Here, Commander,” she said, and Race watched in surprise as a woman wearing a simple work dress stepped away from a bush she had been pruning not ten feet from him. Her thick auburn hair streaked with a few threads of silver was tied back in a ponytail that trailed down to the small of her back. A straw hat shielded her milk-and-honey complexion from the sun’s rays. Dancing green eyes framed by laugh lines glittered as she smiled at him. Her cream colored dress was stained with dirt.
Race blinked in surprise. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.”
She laughed. “I did figure as much. So are you? Enjoying the gardens?” She added when he just stared at her with a frown.
He was not usually one to lose his tongue, it was just … she was a beautiful woman who reminded him a little of the faefolk from ancient earth/Forestrium myth. Especially since she had appeared out of nowhere in a lush garden. Maybe a dryad? he wondered, though less twiggy. It took him a moment to find his tongue. “Yes. Yes, they are beautiful.”
“It pleases me to hear you say that. It has been years since anyone other than family has cared enough to come here and walk its paths.”
“I thought Forestrium was visited by many interested in old earth history or those who just wanted to enjoy a walk through untainted forests?”
The gardener laughed. “True, but they visit the planet. It has been awhile since anyone has had the boldness to visit us.” It was then that Race realized that he vaguely recognized the woman. Though, in his defense he had only seen the lady of the house in passing.
Still … “Forgive me, your Grace. I …” How did you tell someone so far above you in social standing that you hadn’t recognized them without offending them?
Lady Ivy Foréss chuckled and leaned her sheers against the bush she had been working on. She then gestured for Race to escort her along the path. Being an officer in the military, Race had been conditioned to obey. He also liked to believe he was a gentleman. He stepped forward and offered her his arm. She hooked her arm around his, her fingers grazing his forearm. She set the pace and he followed as they walked along the path. “You have nothing to apologize for, Commander. We have not long been in each other’s acquaintance, and I don’t care for people constantly recognizing who I am by my station. A blessing of Forestrium,” she said with a graceful gesture at the flora around them. “Besides, you are a friend of the family and we should not have stilted words between us.”
Race frowned. For the life of him, he couldn’t recall ever meeting one of the Foréss before. He was certainly not on close speaking terms with the ruling branch of the Imperial family or any of its other branches. He wasn’t from noble stock. “I don’t know anyone of the Imperial family well enough to be called friends, Your Grace,” he admitted to her.
The Lady titled her head to look up at him. “Don’t be silly, Commander, or can I call you Race?”
“If you wish to, Your Grace. But—““Ivy.” Race gawked at her for a moment. “Race, you look like a fish out of water,” she teased gently, patting his arm.
Race’s teeth clicked when he snapped his mouth shut. Deciding to be bluntly honest, he said, “Your Grace, I don’t feel comfortable calling you by your first name. It’s nothing against you, I just don’t feel I have earned the right, regardless of what you say about being a family friend. Which I am not because I know no one of the Imperial family that well.”
The lady sighed, as if she tired of his game … a game he wasn’t playing. “Of course you do, Race.”
“Who?”
“Joseph,” she replied simply. Like it made sense. But it didn’t. Not to him.
“I’m sorry, Your Grace. But I don’t know who that is,” Race said, stopping their walk. He felt like he had accidently misled this woman and her family if they all thought that he knew some Joseph character. Am I about to get kicked to the curb? he wondered.
“Oh,” she breathed, looking up at him with wide eyes. But it wasn’t horror or a feeling of betrayal that shaped her expression. It was surprise and a little concern, if the few wrinkles in her forehead were to be believed. “I’m sorry, I thought you knew. I mean, after all, you two had known each other for a dozen years or so. I wonder why he didn’t …” she pondered, looking away from him. Then, in a very unladylike fashion, smacked herself in the forehead “Of course! No wonder he’s been away for so long!” She caught Race’s confused expression and shook her head slightly. “Never mind.”
And while that would keep him silent normally, considering their differences in social standing, Race was far too curious. And she had said that she didn’t want their conversations to be stilted. Okay, so maybe he might be bending her words and meanings just a little bit, but he was curious and frustrated that she obviously knew something he didn’t. “Your Grace, I’m a simple man, I know, but even simple men get curious when everybody about them seems to know something they don’t.”
“Is that your ‘simple’ way of asking for an explanation?” Lady Foréss asked with a gentle tease.
“You could say that.” Race punctuated his words with a nod.
The lady sighed and started to walk again. She gently tugged him along, since she was still holding his arm. “I have discovered with my son-in-law that he never does anything without a reason. There must be one for his not telling you and I think that, before now, it would have been dangerous for you if you knew. He respects you greatly, I can see that, even though he is worried sick. But because that is my conjecture, I cannot explain my earlier comment to you.”
“Why?”
“Because it is not my story to tell or my secret to share.”
The lady left him at the door to the castle. Race stared after her a moment before grinding the heel of his hand into his forehead. His head ached. They may have only chatted for a short time and yet he felt like they could have talked for hours and it would have made little difference in the amount of sense she had made. Each individual word he had underst
ood. But all together as they floated on her breath, they didn’t make any sense at all.
Deciding to go where things were somewhat more understandable, Race headed toward Rylynn’s room. He was not surprised at all to see Braeden sitting in the chair near the girl’s bed. Race paused in the doorway of the bedroom-turned-hospital room. It still had all the comforts of a castle’s guest room and yet it had medical equipment necessary to keep Rylynn’s body functioning, even though her mind was elsewhere. Race noticed nothing different about Rylynn. She was still too young to be in a hospital bed. She was still beyond their reach. Braeden looked worse than she did.
“Worrying is not good for the body or soul.” Race quoted something his grandmother had often muttered.
Braeden blinked and turned a sleep-deprived dim gaze at him, “huh?”
Race shook his head and walked into the room. “How is she?”
Braeden sighed and sat back in his chair. He scrubbed at his face as if trying to work wakefulness into his tired body. “Physically, she still needs a couple of days to heal fully. Mentally? Still don’t know.” Braeden sagged in the chair, worried gray eyes locked on the little form in the bed. “She dreams,” he continued softly, “I see her twitch sometimes. Other times it looks like she is talking, but she doesn’t seem to hear me.”
“At least she is still there,” Race said gently.
“Agreed,” Braeden said on a sigh.
After a brief moment, Race decided to talk about his earlier episode with Lady Foréss. “I ran into the lady of the house in the garden today. It was the darndest thing. She seemed to think that I was friends with someone named Joseph.” Race didn’t miss Braeden’s slight flinch at the name. “Do you know who that is?” Race waited for his friend’s response, already thinking he knew the answer.
“I used to,” Braeden replied, leaning forward to adjust the blankets around Rylynn. He leaned back in the chair before looking at Race. “It has been thirteen years since life happened and Joseph died,” he added.
Defender of the Empire: Chaos Page 1