by Jay Allan
Destra snorted. She knew what that really meant. It meant they were being abandoned. Soon the regrouped remnant of the fleet would be all that was left of humanity, and if that remnant kept fighting the inevitable, not even they would survive. Destra wouldn’t have believed her son better off with her uncle aboard the Valiant, but for one small piece of privileged information which her uncle had shared: the fleet rendezvous was in Dark Space. No one officially knew where that was, save that it was a place of exile for criminals, and that there was only one way in or out of the sector. Her uncle had explained that decision to her—the overlord had no intention of coming back to fight the war. The war was over. This was a full-scale retreat, and all of the people who were too rich and powerful to accept defeat had decided they’d rather hide in a den of criminals than die in their beds.
Destra would have chosen the same had she qualified to join them, especially since she’d been planning to go to Dark Space anyway—though hers were more personal reasons. Unlike everyone else, she already knew where Dark Space was. All she needed was a transport to get there, but it didn’t look like the Sythians were going to leave enough scattered pieces in the entire galaxy to assemble a single working ship. That meant she’d never see Ethan again, but at least Atton would survive. He would make it to Dark Space, and Immortals willing, some day he might even find his father there.
Destra’s thoughts were interrupted as the hover transport flew over the fence, rattling the chain links with its passing before sailing over their heads to settle down a few dozen meters to their right. She gave her son’s arm a tug, and he followed her out from under the eaves without complaint, sticking to her like glue. The driving snow began landing in their hair and on their clothes, soaking them in seconds. A frigid wind blew, sending shivers through them, and Atton began to cry.
“I’m cold!”
“Atton!”
“I want to go home!”
Destra stopped walking and bent down to give him a fierce hug. “Atton, listen to me! You can’t go home. You’re going with your uncle on the spaceship, remember?”
She withdrew far enough to see little Atton bob his head, his eyes downcast as he picked snowflakes out of Tibby’s white fur. “I remember,” he sniffed. “You’re coming with us, right?”
Destra winced and smiled. Tears sparkled in her eyes. “Yes, darling, but not yet. You’ll have to wait for me, okay?”
Atton’s lips twisted into a deep frown, and he shook his head. “Tibby needs you to come now!”
Destra’s smile broadened and tears began trembling on her eyelashes. She blinked them away and shook her head. “You tell Tibby I need him, too, okay? But we don’t have a choice. I’ll catch up with you later,” Destra said, standing. She almost choked on the lie, but somehow she managed to smile and tousle the snowflakes out of Atton’s dark hair like nothing was amiss. They crossed the landing platform to the waiting hover transport. Atton was hugging his stuffed diger tighter now.
Just as they reached the transport, the doors swung open, and Captain Reichland stepped out in his gleaming black and white uniform. He crossed to Destra grimly and gave her a fierce hug.
“I wish it didn’t have to be this way,” he whispered in Destra’s ear.
“Me, too,” Destra whispered back, her tears falling to soak the captain’s snow-dusted shoulder.
“I’ll take good care of him.”
“You’d better,” she warned as they broke apart. She shot him a broken smile and shook a finger in his face. “Or I’ll hunt you down and feed you to the Sythians myself.”
“I don’t doubt it for a second,” he said, holding her gaze.
“Hi, uncle,” Atton said softly.
The captain gazed down at him. “Hoi, kid, how do you feel about going for a ride?”
Destra looked at the transport again, a worried frown etched on her brow. It didn’t look like it stood much of a chance.
Destra turned back to her uncle, about to voice her doubt, but a sonic boom split the sky, interrupting her before she could say anything. All of them turned to see a pair of bright streaks sailing down through the dark clouds. Those streaks turned toward the spaceport, and began blinding them with their landing lights.
“That’s our ride,” Reichland said.
“I thought you were going in the transport?” Destra asked.
The captain turned to her. He held her gaze for a long moment, saying nothing, but looking like he wanted to. “Well—” He smiled; his lips curved briefly, but his eyes never crinkled. “—that changed,” he finished.
“But you’re still going to Dark Space?” she insisted.
“Yes, yes, of course—” The captain cast a worried glance behind him, to the waiting hover transport. He saw the doors opening and other officers stepping out and he turned back to her with a grimace.
Destra noted his expression with a frown. “What’s wrong?”
He shook his head and leaned close to whisper, “They’re not going to make it, Des.” He pulled away with a false smile as one of the other officers walked up to them.
“Ready to go, Captain?” the man asked.
Reichland nodded. “Just waiting for our escort to land, and we’ll be off,” he said. “You go ahead and board the transport. I’ll be riding in one of the corvettes.”
The other man hesitated, as if he understood what that meant, but then he nodded and offered a brisk salute. “Yes, sir.”
Once the other officers had left, Destra allowed the look of mortal dread she’d been suppressing to suffuse her features.
“Don’t worry,” Reichland said, stopping her with a shake of his head. “Des, I promise your son and I will make it. I’ll pilot the corvette myself.”
“But aren’t you supposed to escort the transport? Protect them? Fight?”
Reichland hesitated. “Des, it’s every man for himself right now. Our orders are to run with all possible speed, not to engage the enemy. That transport doesn’t stand a chance of making it out, and two corvettes aren’t going to change that. There are no heroes among the dead, just more bodies.”
“Keep Atton safe, that’s all I ask.”
Reichland nodded, and they turned to watch the lights of the approaching vessels. Destra identified them from a distance—two seraphim-class corvettes, as expected, but those vessels seemed too small and fragile for her to entrust her son’s life to them. Destra hoped they were small enough to escape the Sythians’ notice.
Reichland was already walking toward the approaching ships, and Destra hurried to keep up, tugging Atton along beside her.
Then there came another sonic boom, this one resounding with multiple echoes, and their attention was drawn skyward once more. Destra drew alongside the captain just as he began speaking urgently into his comm.
“Set down now! Have Two cover your landing. I’ll be aboard before your skids touch pavement.”
“What’s that?” Destra pointed to the approaching quintet of fiery comets’ tails.
The captain shook his head. “Hurry!”
They jogged toward the corvette as it hovered down to the landing platform. Destra’s heart slammed against her sternum, and she felt a dizzy rush of adrenaline which gave her the strength to sweep Atton up into her arms and run faster.
Atton began to squirm, threatening to break free, and Destra tightened her grip. He began crying again.
“Quiet!”
“Tibby!” he cried.
Suddenly, Destra understood, and she shot a quick glance over her shoulder to see the furry diger lying in a dirty puddle of snow behind them. “Krak!” Destra said.
“Des!” the captain roared at her above the sound of the waiting corvette’s grav lifts. “We have to go now!”
Destra heard a loud, pulsating screech start up, and she turned to see a blinding stream of red light shooting out from the other corvette. It was hovering in the near distance to head off the incoming enemy ships. Destra turned and ran for the waiting corvette.
“Tibby!” Atton wailed again.
“Forget Tibby!” Destra snapped. “He’s not important!”
“Yes, he is! No . . . Tibby! We can’t leave him!”
Destra reached the waiting corvette just as a stream of dancing purple stars began swarming toward them from the enemy ships. The enemy blended perfectly into the night. These ships weren’t flying in with their landing lights on.
The defending corvette began weaving an evasive pattern while still firing its lasers. A bright explosion flared against the horizon as the corvette’s lasers struck home, followed by a distant boom. Then the purple stars swarmed the defending corvette, exploding brilliantly and sending nonessential pieces of it flying in all directions. A second later, the corvette flew apart, turning the world to white and numbing her ears with the sound. The shockwave hit them, knocking Destra to the landing platform with a searing blast of heat.
Destra’s ears rang. Her eyes were still dazzled—blind—and her back was wet. She hoped the wetness was a puddle and not a dire injury which she was too adrenaline-pumped to feel. Then strong hands reached for her, tugging her to her feet and lifting a screaming Atton off her chest. She blinked her dazzled eyes to see the hazy outline of her uncle’s face, and then she saw a pair of petty officers rushing off with her son. Atton wailed and reached for her with both hands.
“Mommy!” he screamed.
“I’ll see you soon!” she yelled back.
“Des!” Reichland shook her by her shoulders. “Get to the hover transport! Get out of here!” And then he was gone, tearing up the boarding ramp after her son. The ramp began to rise, and a second later they were out of sight, sealed safely inside the corvette. Destra stood there sniffling and wiping tears from her eyes with flaming chunks of debris still raining down all around her. She watched numbly as the surviving corvette rose quickly into the sky and shot off at full speed. It was a blinding white blur roaring off on a bright orange contrail of engine glow, and then it was gone, taking all that mattered to her in the universe with it.
Behind her a rumbling roar started up, and Destra turned to see the old transport rising slowly. That was when she saw the first purple star hit the converted ore freighter and explode in a blinding flash of light.
AFTERMATH
10 Years Later . . .
Chapter 1
—THE YEAR 10 AE (AFTER EXODUS)—
Alec Brondi appeared hovering over his comm officer’s shoulder as he listened in on the enemy transmissions. They’d just been decrypted using the Valiant’s own encryption codes. Should have wiped the mainframe while you had the chance, Brondi thought, his mouth gaping in a smile.
“Defiant? Please respond!” came an unidentified voice. The commcast was coming from Brondi’s own corvette. His smile faded to see the ship’s ID light up on the comm board. Whoever had stolen the Kavarath was going to pay.
Brondi’s comm officer turned to him. “Looks like we did some serious damage with that last hit. The Defiant’s not responding to their hails.”
“Good!” Brondi replied, rubbing his hands together. “Get our novas to finish the job.”
“They’re almost in range . . .” gravidar replied.
Brondi grinned once more, for the moment able to ignore the fact that someone had stolen his ship. Then, a minute later, gravidar called out: “Our novas just went off the grid!”
“What?” Brondi turned to the man, blinking in annoyance.
In the next instant the Defiant responded to Brondi’s stolen Kavarath, the commcast sounding across the bridge: “You did it, you old frekker!” Brondi recognized the supreme overlord’s voice, and he scowled. Dominic made it out alive! “We’re clear to—” The overlord’s voice dissolved in static and picked up again a minute later. “—mine goes off in five, so be sure you make it in time. See you on the other side, Ethan. Defiant out!”
Ethan! Brondi thought. He was gaping more noticeably now, but definitely not smiling. Ethan had stolen his corvette! It wasn’t enough for the man to have cheated him out of 10,000 sols, but now the ungrateful grub was stealing Brondi’s own ship! “Don’t let them escape!” Brondi screeched. “I want that ship stopped!” He slammed his fist down on the comm board and the screen grew momentarily fuzzy with the impact.
“Which one?” the gunnery officer asked.
“Both of them!”
“We’ve just lost the Defiant!” gravidar exclaimed.
Brondi whirled around once more. “What do you mean lost? How? They made a blind jump?”
“They flew through the gate.”
Brondi blinked. The fact that the Dark Space gate was working was a big surprise. That explained why the overlord had been running toward it, but it didn’t explain the cover-up. The Imperium had assured the people for ten long years that the gate was deactivated.
“Well, follow them!” Brondi snapped.
“With the Valiant?” the nav officer asked.
“No, with a flying squirrel! Of course with the Valiant!”
“What about the Sythians?” someone asked. “I don’t think it’s wise to—”
“Verlin, remove that man from his post!” Brondi said, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the dissenter’s voice.
Verlin stalked up to the officer even as the man began rising out of his chair and waving his hands frantically. “Hoi, call off your pet rictan, Brainy!” the nav officer screeched. Verlin didn’t back off, and Brondi just looked on as the officer backed away from Verlin and fetched up against the bridge viewports. “Hoi, this isn’t funny, Brondi! I’ve learned my lesson. . . .”
Verlin suddenly leapt forward, his speed augmented by the armor he was wearing. While he was in the air, he brought up his forearm gauntlet to smash the officer’s nose. The man’s scream was cut short as his head bounced off the transpiranium viewport with a bang! and he crumpled to the deck. A deadly calm fell over the bridge.
“Now follow that ship!” Brondi pointed out the viewports to the distant speck which was the Dark Space gate.
“We’re about to lose the Kavarath,” gravidar added quietly.
“Shoot them!”
A bright red beam shot out from the bow of the Valiant. The carrier’s main beam cannon—a corona XL. Brondi waited a second, then asked. “Well?”
“We missed . . .” a small voice replied.
Brondi shook his head, disbelieving, and he watched as the distant speck which was his corvette flew through the Dark Space gate with a flash of light, leaving a fading blue ripple shimmering across the surface of the gate.
Alec Brondi let out a roar. “Have you all gone skriffy? I’m surrounded by imbeciles! How could you miss them?”
Brondi stared out the broad forward viewports of his newly-captured gladiator-class carrier, his chest rising and falling quickly with barely-contained fury. No one dared to answer, afraid to be the next target for his ire. Then came a brilliant flash of light, and everyone on the bridge flinched away from the blinding glare. The viewports darkened almost instantly, but not fast enough to keep their eyes from being dazzled by the light. When Brondi looked once more, blinking to see through the dancing white spots, he saw that the distant speck of the Dark Space gate was no more, and in its place was a large, expanding fireball, quickly dissipating into the void.
Brondi couldn’t believe it. Everything had been going so well! His plan to steal the Valiant had worked, and the largest surviving ship in the Imperial Star Systems Fleet was his to do with as he pleased! But now his victory tasted bittersweet. He’d just watched first the Supreme Overlord and then Ethan—piloting none other than Brondi’s own corvette—escape through a space gate which wasn’t even supposed to function anymore!
And with his corvette, Brondi had even lost the latest addition to his bevy of pleasure palace play girls—Alara, Ethan’s copilot. He’d been planning to have a bit of fun with her himself before passing her off to the wolves. That would have been the perfect revenge on Ethan, but now . . . now he’d be lucky to catch
up with his ship before it was destroyed by the Sythians!
If there even were Sythians out there. Maybe there had never been any invasion. How was he to know? How were any of them to know? They’d been locked up in Dark Space when the invasion had begun and they’d been fed all the details via the dubious information channels of corporate media.
Brondi’s eyes narrowed. He was beginning to suspect some sort of overarching conspiracy. The Imperium had lied about the gate being disabled, so what else had they lied about?
“Sir?” the nav officer turned to him. “The gate is destroyed. We can’t follow them. What are your orders?”
Brondi scowled. “Well reposition the in-system gate! Then follow them.”
The nav officer hesitated, looking like he wanted to object, but his eyes darted to the body of the last man who’d voiced his dissent, and he just said, “Yes, sir.”
Brondi whirled around and began stalking between the control stations on his way up to the gangway. “I’m going for a walk. Someone put that man in the brig—” Brondi pointed to the officer who’d contradicted his orders earlier, who was now lying unconscious in a pool of blood from his broken nose. “—and notify me when we’re ready to leave!”
“Yes, sir.”
“Verlin, come with me.”
The bounty hunter appeared beside him a moment later, and Brondi caught his eye as they climbed the short set of stairs to the gangway. “I want you to gather a team to search the ship. The overlord was hiding something. Maybe a lot of somethings. I want to know what they are.”