TRISTIN
Cyborg Warriors Book VII
The Ardak Chronicles
By Immortal Angel
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either a product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Tristin
All rights reserved.
Published by Fallen Press, Ltd.
Copyright © 2019
Editor: AW Editing
Copyeditor: Anne-Marie Rutella
Proofreader: Lisa Howard-Fusco
Cover Designer: Jonathan Melody
ISBN: 978-1-948243-06-3
This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited without the express written permission of the author.
Other works by Immortal Angel
Tovian: A Cyborg Warrior Tale
Tordan: Cyborg Warriors Book I
Roihan: Cyborg Warriors Book II
Simban: Cyborg Warriors Book III
Valdjan: Cyborg Warriors Book IV
Mordjan: Cyborg Warriors Book V
Durstin: Cyborg Warriors Book VI
Tristin: Cyborg Warriors Book VII
Zordan: Cyborg Warriors Book VIII (Conclusion)
For Mongsoon, Sophie, Foxy,
and most recently, Ritz.
You’ve been beside me through the creation of worlds,
through years of heroism and heartbreak,
an endless source of inspiration, comfort, joy and love.
After the pain of losing one of you,
I keep saying I’ll never get another.
But the simple truth is
my life would not be complete
without a dog.
Because of you, I have wings.
Immortal Angel
Chapter One
Tristin
Tristin plunged the throttle forward all the way, sending his hurtling ship into a deep dive.
“Hang on!” he warned the others just before the dive sucked the air out of his lungs. He didn’t try to breathe. Instead, he tried conserving the oxygen left in his lungs, and forced himself to focus despite the speed and pressure threatening to send him into unconsciousness.
Focus.
Time began to lengthen, the seconds becoming the space of two, then three. His sister and his two younger cousins squeaked in the chairs behind him, their screams silenced by terror and lack of air. They could do nothing—he was the one in the pilot’s seat, their only hope for survival now.
No one on his world could equal him as a pilot, his skills honed by nearly five hundred years of scraping the ice cliffs that soared above their domed cities, but unbelievably, beams of light shot by them.
So, the Ardak commander was enraged enough to order them to follow, was he? Tristin was torn between hatred and a distant feeling that was something like respect. The tiny Ardak fighters didn’t take these forces any better than his own.
Tristin pulled hard to the right, sending his ship into a spiral which quickly became a spin that was beyond his control. He hung on, keeping his hand on the throttle, letting the ship direct the motion, but slowly angling toward the wormhole in the distance.
When the squeaks from the back silenced, Tristin knew he was the only one still conscious.
He pushed the ship to keep rolling until it was upside down, but the forward momentum kept him in his seat as it fell into a second roll.
He aimed for the wormhole, praying they wouldn’t die before he could get the ship through.
Several more beams of light passed by, and pissed him off.
Fuck! How do I get rid of these bastards?
They usually didn’t pursue past the edge of their assigned systems, but they’d left the Exteris fifteen minutes ago so these Ardaks were unusually tenacious. Maybe the Ardak Resistance Force’s activities were finally making an impact.
He angled the ship to miss the wormhole hoping to fool them, knowing he would have to pull up at the last second to enter it. His fingers reached for the keyboard to input the length of time to remain in the wormhole, though he didn’t know if the ship would be able to execute the command given their current velocity and direction.
Despite his survival instincts and his common sense, he pushed the throttle forward, increasing speed.
The wormhole was finally approaching.
His chest burned with the need to breathe, his brain tightened with the need to black out. He fought both instincts with the hard-won mental fortitude that defined his people, and most especially the House of Tuorin.
At the last moment, he shoved hard to the left, and the ship shuddered as it angled for the wormhole. He heard several resounding cracks and, just before they entered, a huge shudder as one of the beams of light from the Ardak ship hit them.
Then they were inside the glowing ring of light.
Time slowed as they entered. The pressure lessened and he drew in a deep breath that made the tips of his fingers tingle. He reached for the belt hooking him in place, his hands going horribly slow. The others had been unconscious too long.
He dragged his body up slowly, pushing himself out of the seat, forcing his way around it in the tiny space of the cockpit.
The three heads lolled on their shoulders.
Casin was closest. He took another breath, covering Casin’s mouth and pinching his nose. His cousin came to at the second breath with a strangled shout, his gaze slowly centering on Tristin.
Tristin responded to the question in his eyes. “Wooormhole.”
Casin nodded. “IIII’ll get Cooorin.”
Tristin nodded and went to the seat behind him, where his sister, Andraya, sat. As he reached her, they exited the wormhole and time returned to normal with a rush.
Back to normal speed, he inhaled quickly, covering her mouth and pinching her nose while his other hand unhooked the belt strapping her into the seat. She didn’t respond so he pulled her out, lying her limp body on the floor, giving her another breath. He began compressions against her rib cage as her head rolled to the side.
A glance told him Casin had successfully woken Corin.
“Get me the resuscitator,” he ordered, and Casin ran for the back to get it.
He pushed in another breath, harder this time. “Breathe, dammit!”
Corin knelt beside them, tearing open her flight suit as Casin returned. They placed the electrodes on the points of her chest, the mask over her mouth and nose, and Casin hit the green button.
It took only moments, but Andraya’s eyes flew open and she screamed into the mask, clawing at it. Tristin whipped it off her and she screamed again, then turned her head to the right and vomited.
“Well, I guess she’s okay,” Casin said with a laugh.
“Fuck you,” she shot back breathlessly, starting to hyperventilate.
“Breathe slowly, dammit,” Tristin ordered, shooting Casin a hard look. The last thing they needed was for her to aspirate the vomit and begin choking. “Figure out what that Ardak beam did to this ship, Casin.”
Andraya visibly pulled her energy in and focused her mind, the pupils of her eyes dilating then narrowing once more. Her breathing slowed.
Tristin gave her another minute, then demanded, “Where is the device?”
Andraya reached into her pocket and pulled out the tiny matte black device they’d all almost died for.
Casin whooped. “I told you we could do it! I told you!”
Tristin frowned. “Didn’t I tell you to check the ship?”
Casin shrugged. “I checked the console—no blinking lights, everything operational.”
“How many times do I have to tell you that the indicators don’t tell you everything?” Tristin glanced up. “Look at that.” He pointed to the hairline cracks running along the ceiling.
“Damn,” Corin said softly, meeting Tristin’s gaze.
All three of them turned to Casin, who for once looked abashed. “All right, I get it.”
“Don’t forget, dammit. I’m not always going to be here to remind you.” Tristin held his hand out for the device, wishing he felt a bigger sense of satisfaction. But that device was only the first stop on their mission. The bigger task was yet to come, and whether or not the console showed it, their ship was already damaged. He twirled it in his fingers, then handed it back to her.
Her eyebrows shot up, an expression much like his own.
“You hang on to it, you’ve earned it,” he said.
“How far is the Flouriant?” Corin asked.
Tristin got to his feet and went back to the front of the cockpit, checking the distance. “The computer actually managed to do what I asked. We’re less than an hour away.”
“That’s good,” Casin said. “The sooner we can get this done the better.”
“Really?” Tristin’s lips thinned. “We’ll be limping into port at the Flouriant station. Another quick getaway will be out of the question. The only thing on our side is that the Ardaks won’t expect the sheer stupidity of us going into the space station where the king’s ship is docked an hour after we barely escaped with our lives.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Corin said, his face pale.
“If I had the choice, I’d send you all home right now.” His glare went between the three of them. Casin’s and Corin’s long blond hair signified them as the Sorala branch of the house of Tuorin, while Andraya’s long black hair matched his own. They weren’t children, the twins about three hundred years old, and Andraya two hundred and fifty, but at five hundred, the two-centuries he had on them all sometimes felt like a millennium. “This mission is extremely dangerous and ill-advised.”
Andraya’s glowing purple eyes, which matched his own, gazed back at him, determination in their depths. “It’s not going to be like last time. Have courage, big brother.”
He snorted again. “You mean last time ten minutes ago?”
“No—I mean the last mission.” She had the good grace to look away when she mentioned the fateful day less than three weeks ago when he, Casin, and Corin had been captured by the Ardaks and spent a week imprisoned on one of their ships. They’d been saved only because some rogue cyborgs from another system had freed them, and even still, Casin had almost died.
He grimaced. “You only say that because you escaped.”
“I wouldn’t have cared if they’d captured me, too,” she said passionately. “We need to fight against them—take risks.” Her eyes were bright with fervent hope. “We’re gaining power. I can feel it.”
“Be serious, Andraya. We’re not going to defeat them anytime soon. Hell, we can’t even protect our own star system.”
She jumped up, ignoring the vomit, and put her hands on her hips. “If you don’t believe in the ARF then why are you here?”
He drew himself up to his full height. “I do believe in the ARF—I’m just more realistic about our chances. And I’m here to stop you three from doing anything stupid.”
“Bullshit,” Corin countered. “You’re just as angry as we are. And you know we have to do something.”
He stood to his full height in the small space, his head a hairbreadth from the ceiling. “Doing something doesn’t mean limping into enemy territory an hour after a narrow escape. Not to mention that docking with the space station while the king’s ship is also docked will expose us all to heightened security measures and Ardaks in close quarters.” He paused. “And I don’t want to face your mother a second time if something happens to the two of you.”
“Then it’s a good thing we don’t have parents,” Andraya said.
He wanted to chastise her for talking that way, but he couldn’t. Their parents had died fifty years ago in a spaceship explosion, leaving him the king of their world, Tuorin Andala. It was a long time ago, and since the Ardak invasion, he’d often been glad that his parents hadn’t lived to see the destruction of their world. So instead of a rebuke, Tristin pushed his long black hair back over his shoulder, focusing on Andraya. “You do have a parent—me. And you should thank the gods every day that you’re not the oldest.”
“I already do,” she replied quietly. “But although you think you are responsible for us, you’re not. Every individual is responsible for his or her own life. You might think we’re young, but we’re not. We know what we’re doing. We know we could die. It’s the risk we have to take.”
He sighed and looked at the ceiling just above his nose. They didn’t understand the value of their own lives, so willing to throw them away for a cause that may not be won. But reasoning with her wouldn’t get him anywhere. “Well, we’re not getting any younger standing around talking about it,” he sighed. “Let me set course for the Flouriant.”
As he turned toward the pilot’s seat, Andraya put her hand on his shoulder. “It’s going to be okay, big brother. I love you, Tristin.”
He turned and hugged her back, holding on a second too long. “I love you, too, Andraya. Now clean up that damn mess you made.”
Calling himself a fool in every language he knew, he slid into the pilot’s seat and set their new course.
Less than an hour later, Tristin breathed a sigh of relief as his clearance codes worked with the heightened Ardak security, allowing his ship access to the enormous space station. The Flouriant was one of five stations that operated on the edges on civilized space. This one was in the Cetus galaxy and run by a friend of his, Rillian. But even Rillian didn’t have control when the Ardak king’s ship stopped to dock.
Lights on the side of the station guided him toward a tiny docking bay made for smaller vessels. He guided the small cruiser into it with a calm, experienced hand. Surprising, considering what he was about to do.
He went to one of the compartments in the wall and pulled out several sets of ocular lenses that would disguise their glowing purple eyes. Tristin looked sternly at his sister and the two young blond men as he handed them each a set of lenses. “You three are to stick with me at all times. Let me make contact with the target. You may survey for more potential future targets, but this is surveillance only. Do NOT make contact.”
Casin managed to roll his eyes even as he put in the lenses. “Yes, Father. We know.”
“I’m not your father,” Tristin emphasized. “I’m much, much more of an asshole than he is.”
“We know,” Casin agreed heartily, then cringed as Tristin threw him a sharp look.
“We’ll behave. We promise,” Corin said earnestly, and Casin nodded in agreement.
Tristin shared a glance with Andraya. “You heard them. And me. Any screwing around and it’s the brig. I think I still have some leeches from our last trip to Xion 5 in storage.”
The twins had been sheltered by virtue of their station and their youth, but they weren’t that young anymore. By three hundred he was already the king of his planet, two million souls dependent upon his leadership.
But the twins had an older brother, Tavin, destined for the throne, so they’d been free of the responsibility of leadership. Their rebellious natures had gotten them into trouble far too often for his liking, and shortly, they had the power to get everyone on this mission killed. Including him and his sister. But he had the feeling that if he left them here without throwing them in the brig, they might try to follow him anyway.
He brushed his long hair back over his shoulder as he led them back to the cargo bay where they would disembark from the small craft. He opened the door, but for some reason, he suddenly didn’t want to leave the ship. He hovered for a moment just inside the entrance.
“What is it, cousin?” Corin asked.
“I don’
t know.” Tristin shook his head. “Just a very bad feeling.”
Casin checked his weapons. “The last time you had a bad feeling, we ended up in an Ardak prison. Shall we abort?”
“We can’t,” Andraya protested in a whisper. “We have no idea when the king’s ship is going to dock in a port again.”
Tristan knew she was correct. He summoned his anger, pushing his misgivings aside. “All right. Remember what these assholes did to our people. For the ARF!”
Chapter Two
Kirelle
Kirelle took a sip of her virgin Galactic Sunrise, trying to fade into the background of the seedy space station bar. She didn’t know why Head Scientist X-Blade had invited her onto the Flouriant station for drinks, but it was an invitation she couldn’t decline. Even though she had really wanted to.
Despite the Ardaks’ destruction of her planet and the collar around her neck, she felt a hell of a lot safer on the king’s ship than on this backwater space station. Though her life depended on her performance, she felt safest in her lab, where she was at least in control of her environment.
After several minutes, X-Blade had left to use the restroom. He’d been gone for a few minutes, so she hoped he was still okay. He’d already had several drinks, and with the strength of the Volcano’s Breath, even the Ardaks had to watch how much they imbibed. She had no idea why the Ardaks drank elven liquor anyway. They hated elves.
She took in the other bar patrons, eyeing them dispassionately. They were all shapes and sizes, but the common denominator was sleazy. Every one of them was trying to get a piece of the Ardak Empire for themselves, selling weapons, making deals. Back on her homeworld, her father wouldn’t even have allowed beings such as these onto their island, much less engaged them for trade. And she never would have entered a place like this.
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