MUTINY RISING (THE ALORIAN WARS Book 3)

by Drew Avera

  Lieutenant Vesna pulled his com-unit from his pocket and thumbed across the screen. “Here, just so you won’t die from curiosity.” Vesna handed the com-unit to Ilium. On the screen was an image of Chief Harso hanging by his neck in his quarters. “Just so you know it was fairly easy to convince him to take his own life. It was almost as easy as convincing him to pretend to be part of a secret organization in order to see how you would act. He was surprisingly willing to play along when I told him there was evidence that pointed to your not being who you said you were. I had him convinced that finding the truth and reporting it back to me was in his best interest. I suppose he had a difference in opinion about what those best interests were.” Vesna chuckled under his breath.

  “I have to say, I’m pretty disappointed with how things turned out. The right thing to do and what Ilium Gyl does are two completely different things, I’ve noticed. If you had simply complied with what you were told to do, we wouldn’t be in this situation and Harso wouldn’t be dead. Funny how selfish people bring others to fall, isn’t it?”

  “You’re a real asshole, you know that?”

  Vesna smiled wickedly. “So I’ve been told. And yes, to answer your question, I do think Harso would have been suspicious, but you would be surprised at just how far a bribe can get you on this ship. Of course, the real joy wasn’t in the likelihood of carrying out my threat, but by watching you act and take control of the situation in the way I knew you would. Now Harso’s death is your fault, just like everything else you’ve fucked up.” He leaned closer to Ilium and whispered. “The kid in the passageway has no idea that he will be killed before his feet touch the next port. I’m thinking poison, but maybe I’ll just frame you for the murder to make things a little more interesting for Central Command. What do you say?”

  Ilium’s heart beat hard. His vision blurred as he looked at the man who lured him into a trap. I thought I was the biggest bastard the Greshian Navy had to offer, but I don’t have shit on this guy, he thought, the taste of acid on his tongue as his nervousness caused his reflux to act up. “I say I think I want to kill you and take my time carving your heart from your chest,” he said, but any attempt at sounding threatening was lost when his voice cracked.

  “Oh, that’s a good one; I almost felt the sincerity in your voice over the sound of the bullshit threats escaping your lips. I’m sure you think you’re the toughest guy in the room, but really you’re just the biggest and loudest bitch. Don’t worry, that’ll only be temporary, until I get the kill order, that is.” Vesna laughed. “Harager is going to love it when I tell him I spaced your ass, but instead of doing it and having to cover for it later, I may as well take a page out of your book and use the military system against you. I hope you enjoy having a taste of your own medicine, Captain,” He said the word with enough of a sneer that it made Ilium want to spit in his face. “The look on your face is priceless. I might want to take a picture of it for our mutual friend, something to remember you by. I’m sure Harenger will appreciate that. Lock him up,” Vesna ordered as he turned and left Ilium alone with two security personnel. The one who frisked him before closed the door to his quarters and bolted it shut from the other side. There was no escape.

  “Fuck,” Ilium said under his breath. Everything was going to shit and he wasn’t able to piece any of it together to see where it all fell apart. Something is missing; he thought as he fell into a chair and leaned his head against the cold bulkhead. After several moments of contemplation he was nowhere. None of the events happening seemed to make sense. Except that Vesna did the same thing to Harso as I did to Brendle!

  As he lay down, drifting towards sleep, his mind raced. Thoughts of Harager and Vesna conspiring with one another to teach him a lesson was only part of the thoughts running through his mind. His thoughts also drifted to Chief Harso, a man now dead because of Vesna. And what about Jerot—was he really dead, or was it a lie Vesna told to see how I would react?

  An uncharacteristic pang of regret hit him as his thoughts then drifted to Brendle Quin and how he framed him as a traitor just because he thought the man was a threat to his endgame. Brendle, he knew, was oblivious to what was going on. He was too wrapped up in not wanting to do his job to be focused on what Ilium had been up to. It was a truth that haunted him now, knowing that Brendle might have made a better ally than he did an enemy.

  Now I know what a real threat feels like, but I can’t take it back. If Brendle wasn’t an enemy then, he surely is now. I’ve gone far, but I have also done this too much and it’s about time it stops. I just have one thing to do before I can put this life behind me. But doing so might bring my whole world crashing down. Ilium thought about what Lieutenant Vesna was getting away with and realized it would be worth it to bring the son of a bitch down.

  “Fuck it; I may as well end it on my terms.”

  Chapter Fifteen: Carista

  They came in waves. First in twos and then in groups of three. She ran from them, her heart pounding so hard she could hear nothing more than the beating of her heart like a drum of war. Her lungs ached as she ran, the cold air scorching the soft tissue.

  “Monster!” they screamed in unison. Their voices carried through the high corridors of the cityscape. The near-empty streets were the only thing keeping her from feeling truly confined, but the claustrophobia was still creeping in. She knew it was because she was bound by her own skin, her own mind, held captive by who she was, and she would never be free. There was a ceiling to the city, not a moon-filled sky like she saw the last time she escaped, but as she ran in slow motion she knew something wasn’t right. She tried to scream, her voice deadlocked, captive by imprisoned vocal cords. She scrambled, searching for a way out of the madness, but there was nowhere to go other than away from the sound of the growing crowd.

  “Monster!” The word burned her ears as it fell like an anvil onto her body, crushing her with its bitter hatred, its contempt. It felt personal, as if the word gripped her soul and wanted to tear it out of her.

  “You don’t know me,” she whispered through tears. “You don’t own me,” a voice in her mind spoke in a disembodied voice. It did not sound like her, but it inspired her nonetheless. She ran harder. But the waves of men and women, dressed in dark clothing, their faces semi-obscured, closed in on her. She turned, her feet skidding against the pavement, which tore at the bare flesh of her soles. The pain was enough to make her want to stop, but the mantra shouted by her would-be captors urged her to keep going, to run through the pain, to escape. But it was too late. They were on her heels, reaching and grabbing to tear her apart.

  “Monster! Monster! Monster!”

  Carista turned to see them walking close to her like a group of predatory animals stalking their prey. She was trapped, cut off by the high walls that seemed to close together into a dome above her. Their mouths opened in sinister grins, their teeth like steely daggers, hungry to tear flesh from bone. She could feel their thoughts radiating through her body. They wanted to take her, to use her, and then kill her. She was a tool for them and nothing else.

  “Monster!” they lurched forward, their shadows cast over her, eclipsing what little light there was, making her feel colder.

  “Monster!” Their hands rose over their heads, weapons appearing from thin air. Her perspective shifted as light shone around her, revealing a world that felt more real. Each silvery blade and shiny thing reflecting the light of the three moons hovering over the planet Karanta, but it wasn’t that planet at all. It was hell. Carista saw her reflection in their eyes as they fell on her, stabbing, tearing, and gnarling over her. And she screamed in chorus with their mantra, their chant of hatred.

  “Monster!”

  Perhaps I am, she thought as the world slipped away.

  Her eyes opened to the bright, shining lights of the Replicade’s medical bay, but all she saw were the shimmering surfaces through her blurred, teary-eyed vision.

  Carista’s voice let loose and she howled a scream that she fel
t had been contained for her whole life. It was fear; it was dread; it murderous and primal. She shrank back into the medical cart, feeling the cushion encapsulate her, trapping her in its grip. It was a welcoming prison and she didn’t have the strength to try to escape it. She just lay there, her breathing heavy, hoping the visions she saw were not the future as she feared it would be. Carista wiped a tear from her cheek and closed her eyes from the bright lights.

  “Hey!” A voice said from the other side of the room. It was a man in dark clothing, his face pale, his hair wild. She felt her trepidation pulse through her veins with each heartbeat. He was coming for her, his hands out to grab her, to bring her back to them. To CERCO.”

  “No!” she screamed, lashing out with her hands and feet as his hands touched her skin, pushing her back onto the cart.

  “It’s all right,” the man pleaded.

  But it isn’t all right, she thought as she struggled to break free from his grip. “No, no, no,” she hissed as her legs flailed and her fingertips gripped onto the man’s sleeve.

  “Just stop fighting me,” he said. It was what they always said before they brought the pain with them. He was one of them; she knew that now.

  “No!” she screamed, the word coming from beyond her vocal chords. Primordial energy escaped her body and shot towards the man with enough weight to lift him from his feet and send him crashing into the bulkhead of the ship. She watched him fly through the air, his hands and feet moving as if they were trying to find something to land on, but his body took the brunt of his stop before he fell unconscious to the deck on the other side of the room.

  She looked at him, his skin pale and light brown hair falling over his face. He was still breathing, but he was no longer a threat. She stared at him for a moment, feeling something familiar when she looked into his eyes before he “attacked” her. She was confused, afraid, but there was something there and her heart sank as she realized he was one of the ones she used on Karanta to escape from CERCO.

  Carista shoved herself towards the edge of the medical cart, her legs dangling over the deck before her feet finally settled and she could support her own weight. She took slow steps towards him, watching for him to move, but he did not. “Brendle?” She said his name, but she was unsure if it was even him or not. She thought it might be, and she hoped against hope that he would not blame her for what she did.

  She stood over him and knelt to touch him, to shake him awake. His body was still warm to the touch, but he was unresponsive. “Brendle?” She shook him again, but there was no change.

  Her fear from waking up from her nightmare was replaced by the fear that she may have seriously injured someone she knew could help her. The word “monster” still haunted her thoughts, but it felt justified as she watched over the man, knowing she did this to him.

  “Brendle,” a voice said, filling the room. It was another male, but his accent was different from the one she heard Brendle speak with. “We have a problem. A large energy source escaped our ship and caught the attention of a very large and heavily armed vessel that is headed our way. I hate to say it, but hiding in the asteroid belt did little to mask us from them. What do you want me to do?”

  The voice disappeared for a moment before returning. “Brendle? Are you there?”

  Carista’s eyes fell onto the man they were calling for. He hadn’t moved an inch since she threw him across the room and slammed him into the bulkhead.

  “Anki?” the voice said.

  “I left him in the medical bay. Maybe he’s sleeping. I’ll go check on him,” the female voice said. Carista knew her just as much as she knew Brendle. Carista knew Anki cared deeply for him and she would be angry finding him like this. She knew Anki would blame her despite the fact she seemed to be the one with the most compassion. Anki was the one who suffered the greatest loss between the two of them. Carista knew all of this, and now Anki would discover her standing over Brendle after having hurt him.

  I have to go, she thought, but where can I go? She turned in circles looking for a way out, but the only openings led into the passageway where she would most likely be found. She looked up and saw a large ventilation shaft like the one back at the facility where she escaped. If it worked once, maybe it will work again, she thought.

  She moved over towards it, climbing on top of an empty counter, pulling out the drawers to help her get to the top of it. The screened section was full of one-inch squares where she could slid her fingers into the grating and pull it away from the bulkhead. It took her a moment to get it to break free from its mount, straining the muscles in her arms and back as she pulled as hard as she could. She felt it beginning to tear away, but it was as if it was holding on by one powerful thread. Carista readjusted her grip and yanked hard one last time, the cover coming off and immediately dropping heavily to the deck with a clatter. she looked up at the doorway leading into the medical bay, and to Brendle’s unconscious body.

  No one is here, yet, she thought as she clamored towards the ventilation shaft, pulling on the wires mounted to the bulkhead to help pull herself up and outward. The ducting leading through the ventilation was cold and smooth, almost slippery, as with her full bodyweight she edged forward. The farther away from the medical bay she got, the darker the shafts were. Carista could barely see a few feet in front of her, but a faint light up ahead beaconed to her, welcoming her with a pale glow cascading downward onto the cold metallic surface. She stopped and looked back at where she’d come from. She could hear sounds now, faintly spoken words, a feminine voice. It was Anki, Brendle’s loved one. Shame and guilt flooded Carista’s heart. She knew Anki would be upset for what she had done. She was upset herself, but she didn’t mean to hurt the man; she was just afraid.

  She looked forward again and nudged herself towards the light. Inch by inch, she crawled her way towards the end where the pale illumination dripped down onto the shaft. She saw three directions to travel—left, right, and upward. She thought for a moment which way would be best, looking in each direction before canting her head upward into the light. She liked the light, marveled at its beauty. I wonder where it comes from? Carista reached up and grabbed a ledge on the shaft and pulled herself to a standing position. Placing one foot on a ledge, she crawled up the ventilation shaft, disappearing into the cocoon of light and hoping to find a place to hide from what she had done.

  Chapter Sixteen: Deis

  The bridge hummed the comforting song of air recyclers as the blue light cascaded against white bulkheads. The overhaul crew that repaired the Replicade were expedited in a short duration, but it came at a large financial strain. That was the cost of not being caught off guard: a wiped-out savings account and a ship that may or may not be flight worthy. Deis listened intently for any sounds of the ship that might alert him to a problem, but everything sounded as it should. That assurance felt like laziness to him because he expected something to go wrong. He didn’t know what exactly, but the expectation was there. It was like the haunting memory of Crase and Neular when they came to take the ship. If anything, Deis felt he was learning to trust his gut, or to not trust himself at all. He wasn’t sure which. All he knew was that he flew the ship where Brendle instructed, and they were to wait.

  With the Replicade set quietly adrift beyond the asteroid belt, Deis thought they should be in a position of relative safety. Brendle was the navy veteran; he had used the same tactics dozens of times, but of course he was in the most feared naval fleet in the galaxy. Still, in a perfect world, the Replicade was camouflaged by the rocky monoliths orbiting Karanta, but just as his fears suspected, like a damning self-fulfilling prophesy, the sensor array sprang to life, the monitor illuminating red as the alarm buzzed in the air around them. It was a tragic, heart-stopping reminder that they were never truly safe.

  “What the—” he said as he leapt to his feet and ran to the monitor. He scrolled his hands along the console, manipulating the controls and trying to find as much information about what was wrong with the s
hip as he could find. The good news was that it wasn’t a catastrophic engine failure. The bad news was that it just might be worse.

  The alarm woke Malikea from his nap where he slept with his feet kicked up on the unused navigation console. “What’s wrong?” He rose and rubbed his eyes as he yawned.

  “We’re being pinged,” Deis said as his fingers scrawled across the screen. “I have no idea where they came from and no one should know we’re here.”

  Malikea stepped over to Deis and looked over his shoulder, his crimson robe swaying around his ankles. “What about that, is there something wrong with the ship?”

  “What? What are you talking about?”

  Malikea pointed at one of the energy output readings on the screen. “Shouldn’t that parameter be red-lined?” The drive display showed an output of energy coming from the ship that was nine-hundred percent above the normal operating parameters. But it wasn’t an indication highlighted in red as is should have been if there was something wrong with ship.

  Why didn’t I notice that before?

  “That’s odd,” Deis said. “I’ve never seen it surpass one-hundred and fifteen present, and that was only during a short burst at a high-g maneuver.”

  “Perhaps there is something wrong with the drive that happened during the overhaul,” Malikea suggested.

  Deis shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not sure. Brendle has taught me a lot about the ship, but this isn’t anything we’ve ever discussed. Besides, the overhaul didn’t include any drive repairs because it was fully operational. We just had repairs to the hull and some of the non-critical electrical systems to cut down on fire hazards. Anything related to the drive should have been omitted.”

  Malikea cleared his throat. “What if someone sabotaged the ship?” he asked. The thought hadn’t crossed Deis’ mind, but with their recent run of bad luck, he would hate to think they were foolish enough to allow such a thing to happen. That was part of the reason that they took shifts living on the ship during the overhaul, so they could ensure something like that didn’t occur. “Or maybe the ship is pinging us because they think we’re in danger,” he added.