Dragon's Revenge

by Natalie Grey

  It was not simply that she had been here before. Aleksandr had taken her to Gemini, and then to B4 for her implants, and then—at last—to this place. Tera had spent a year here, closeted with trainers who had, one by one, disappeared. She stopped in her tracks, wondering if Aleksandr had bothered to do anything more than airlock them, and then shook her head and walked on. It would not surprise her, and that was all she needed to know.

  Without conscious thought, her steps carrier her to her old bedroom. She looked inside at the room and felt herself shake. She had been here; her past self was still here as a ghost in the scuffs under the desk and the faint outline of her body on the old mattress. She remembered the broken bones and the bruises, the tally of her injuries as she looked at herself critically in the mirror at night. Her ribs had disappeared and muscles had shown themselves. She remembered pressing at the new curves of her hips and on her chest, baffled by the changes but accepting them—her body was hers in a way it had never been before, safe in its bed, her belly full, her mind given so much knowledge that her dreams took on a vivid, surreal cast she still remembered.

  It was here that Aleksandr taught her to read. He was absent often, unable to spare the time from his work in the admiralty and Intelligence. But he spent a week here, a whole week, teaching her to read while she struggled to make the shapes into something meaningful. He never snapped. He never lost his temper. He was endlessly patient, smiling at every little victory. And when at last she could use the dictionary to find new words, and she could read sentences to him out loud, he brought her with him to the shuttle bay where he was getting ready to depart, and he gave her a book, a real paper book, and a hug, and told her he would be back when he could.

  It was a book about all the habitable planetary bodies in human space, and she read it until it fell apart, turning the heavy pages with their glossy pictures of forests and cities and lakes. She loved oceans. She looked up videos of storms and was terrified, and she frowned to imagine things like cliffs, that the book swore towered twice and three times as high as the highest buildings on Osiris.

  A series of clangs told her that another ship was docking with the station, and Tera looked over her shoulder at the room one last time. Osiris and shiny shoes and a blue uniform, her own blood on her skin; Gemini with sunlight and Aleksandr letting her run over the manicured lawns; and here, where it had all begun in earnest.

  And Akintola Station, a voice whispered. Seeing Talon for the first time. Or on the shuttle, realizing that she did not know whether the evidence against Aleksandr was warranted. In the hallway of the Ariane, skin on skin…

  This place held nothing but ghosts, and ghosts weren’t real. She turned and left, steps sure. She would wait in the main chambers of this section, and Aleksandr’s emissary would find her there. Amidst the low, endless clang of the circling station, she heard one set of footsteps in the shuttle bay.

  She took a seat on the floor in the main room, arms around her knees. At the table near the kitchen, she and Aleksandr had talked for hours about philosophy and physics, her mathematics lessons, the lessons on infantry movements and naval tactics from old earth. Later, it had been the politics of their present world. Aleksandr was often angry when he spoke of that, his voice tight with hatred at the shortsighted weakness he saw in his colleagues.

  The footsteps came closer and Tera rolled her head on the wall to watch the doorway. Who had Aleksandr sent? Would it be a familiar face? She wondered, her mouth twisting wryly, if this person was aware of her promise to kill everyone Aleksandr sent after her.

  The gun answered that question. It was well worn and beautiful, held like an old friend in the arms of a shockingly pale man. He moved like a Dragon, Tera noticed. Her eyes searched, and then found it: the glint of red on his helmet. So this was one of Talon’s runaway Dragons. She spread her hands out, palms facing him.

  “I’m not running.”

  He seemed amused by that. The barrel of the gun jerked. “Come on, then.”

  There was no way for him to escort her safely through the ship, but she went quietly and he kept her in sight for most of the time. She did not look back at her room. She looked forward, to the coming confrontation; it seemed right, somehow, that Aleksandr had sent one of his pet Dragons. One of the ones Talon said were lesser, content to rest on their inborn talent. It seemed, to Tera, a sign that this was right. She’d seen true Dragons, and this man did not number against them, no matter the red and black he wore.

  She waited quietly in the back of the shuttle while he input the coordinates, a pistol trained on her, and she settled back in her chair with her arms crossed and her eyes closed. It was only when he’d made the second set of course corrections, the pistol holstered at his belt, that she opened her eyes.

  “I meant what I told him, you know.”

  “What?” He looked over at her, startled by her speech after an hour of careful silence.

  Her knife took him in the eye, and he died within a moment. She yanked it out and laid his body in the back of the shuttle carefully, gently. “I told him I’d kill anyone who came for me.” Her lips curled. “Especially you.”

  Like hell she was going to let a former Dragon take a shot at Talon.

  35

  A missile streaked past the hull of the Ariane, echoing strangely through the ship, and Jester swerved out of the way of the second shot. Talon bit back a sound. He could not distract his pilot. His muscles were humming with tension but he kept his breaths deep and even. He could not allow poor control to doom them now. He was holding on until their missiles could take out the ships in their way.

  “They’ll be gone before the next volley,” Sphinx said quietly.

  “Good.”

  But as he watched the ship take a hull-breaching hit and shudder with the force of the vacuum ripping through it, it did not feel good. It felt wrong. They had come upon the cluster of mercenary ships seventeen minutes ago, and it took less than a second to understand what was happening. Aleksandr had arrayed all of those who would follow him to take Talon out. It was likely that not a single one of them knew he himself was on the Blad. They were here because Aleksandr knew Talon hated killing innocents. He swallowed and opened the broadcast channel once more.

  “My quarrel is not with any of you. I will not pursue you if you leave now.” He paused. “But I will kill you all if you have to.”

  He had offered before, and none of them had taken him up on the offer. Now that two of their ships were ruined and two crews dead, he wondered if they might take him more seriously. He watched, pleased, as three ships peeled off from the battle and streaked away into the night. He would do what he could to keep Aleksandr’s vengeance from following them.

  Still, three gone and two destroyed left more ships than he could count. And only by flying into the center of the swarm could they hope to keep them from firing at him. Jester guided the Ariane closer and closer, Sphinx in the copilot’s seat. Her shots met missiles head-on and cut off closing formations with a scatter of warning fire, and her eyes flicked between the view out the window and the notifications on her screens.

  Tersi leaned over her shoulder, his fingers tapping at the keys to keep out the barrage of electronic attacks besieging the Ariane. A dozen solid thwunks had let the crew know devices with hacking signals were attached to their hull, and only superior protocols on Tersi’s part kept them from overriding the life support and guidance systems.

  “All of you get your helmets on.” Talon did not look around, and they ran. He knew three of them would be back for the bridge crew. They just had to hold out until then.

  “Shit!” Sphinx’s voice came a half-second before the shot hit them broadside, sending the Ariane tumbling dangerously close to another ship. Talon was jerked sideways and Tersi lost his footing entirely. The ship spun and there was the clatter of unsecured machinery.

  Jester righted them with an effort, ignoring the sudden flare of warning lights by his head. A quick glance showed Tersi scram
bling up and Sphinx with blood pouring from her forehead. She stabbed at the buttons and nodded. No one needed to ask what that meant; the ship that had shot at them was gone. When she looked over, though, her face was screwed up with an unspoken apology.

  “Boss, I’m—”

  “We weren’t going to get through this without taking hits,” he told her flatly. He opened the comms to the ship. “The hull has been weakened to starboard, somewhere around the mess. Patch it. Everyone needs to be suited.”

  Pounding feet told him that their helmets were coming. Esu fitted Talon’s around his head so that he did not need to take the controls away, and Tersi wiped the blood from Sphinx’s head before attaching hers.

  “Where’s the Blad?” Meph asked quietly.

  “Dead ahead.” Talon checked. There were sixteen ships between them. He broadcast his warning again.

  He watched as Sphinx took out another ship, its guns trained on the Ariane. They had good shielding and better targeting systems. The fight, stacked as it was, was far from sure.

  But they only needed one more good hit before the Ariane vented itself into space, and there was no way to get through the remaining gauntlet of ships without being hit. Talon knew it instinctively. He looked over at the rest of them and came to a decision.

  “Get people in place at the airlock. Stop worrying about patching the hole. And tell them to move securely.”

  “Yes, sir.” Esu and Meph pounded away.

  “I need you two to stay as long as you can,” Talon said to Sphinx and Tersi.

  “We weren’t planning on doing anything else,” Tersi assured him. He lashed himself into place on Sphinx’s chair.

  “They’re all charging missiles,” she murmured. “I can take out about three quarters of them.” Her fingers were already moving, crippling the ships that were still aiming. He could see her face twisting with sympathy.

  Talon reached out to lay a hand on hers. Just for a moment, their eyes met.

  It was enough to make him want to punch his way out the front of the ship and go for Aleksandr then and there. The long minutes between now and their confrontation seemed like an eternity. Aleksandr was putting blood on their hands, knowingly. Hatefully.

  It would be over soon. Very soon. He watched as Jester guided the ship with all his skill, trying to avoid the shots that might end this here and now. There was a reason Aleksandr didn’t want them approaching the ship like this.

  He took a chance. “The Blad is my target. Any of you who stand between me and it will be shot. Any who leave, will be allowed to go.”

  They peeled off, all of them. No one wanted to die for this, and they knew now which direction to go, to get out of the way. As the Ariane streaked toward the Blad, it, too, turned to flee.

  “Oh, no, you don’t, you bastard.” Talon closed his fingers around the controls and accelerated to near-hyperspeed. Aleksandr was not getting away from him this easily. They banked together, smoothly, and Talon looked over at Tersi in a wordless question. The man smiled.

  “I’m going to assume you wanted a lock on their guidance systems and an automatic docking procedure? It’s done.”

  “Remind me to put you in for a promotion.”

  “In the renegade Dragon Corps, you mean? I’m honored.”

  Talon grinned, reckless humor mixing with desperate sadness he could not bear to show. He gestured to the airlock. “Let’s go.”

  They sprinted down the corridors with one arm outstretched; their suits could adhere to the walls in the event of a hull breach, keeping them inside the ship as the air vented, but they needed to be close to activate the protocols. When they arrived in the airlock, they knelt with the rest of the team and accepted their weapons and armor. Everyone else was already ready, bouncing on the balls of their feet, exchanging the good-natured insults and bad jokes that came before missions like this.

  “What’s the plan?” Nyx’s voice cut above it all, and everyone quieted.

  “Cut your way through anyone you have to. We don’t have time to ask them to get out of the way, and they’ll know they’re on his ship. If you see any Dragons…” His voice trailed off at that.

  “The way I see it…” Aegis smiled around at all of them, lazily. His smiles were rare enough that they all sat up and took notice. “The only Dragons in this fight are here on this ship.”

  Talon nodded at him. It was a good reminder. They had chosen their path, those on this crew, knowing what was coming.

  “Well, then. Get ready. And, everyone.”

  They paused expectantly.

  “I want to get that shot in on him myself, but that’s not important. You see him, you take him down.”

  They nodded, and he felt a rush of relief. He was not going to have a poignant moment with Aleksandr where the man realized the depth of his mistakes. Talon accepted that. They was going to take Aleksandr down. That was all that mattered.

  “What if she’s there?” Nyx asked quietly.

  “You know what to do.” But the words came out in a whisper.

  He could only pray that she was not here—and if she was, that he was not the one who found her.

  36

  They strung her up in the center of the room, wrists lashed together over her head, and the chain short enough that she needed to balance on the balls of her feet to keep her hands from going numb. They weren’t gentle—they were former Dragons, the lot of them, and they could see their comrade’s body—but they were wary enough of Aleksandr not to hurt her as much as she knew they could. It was something.

  She did not expect the wave of revulsion she felt when Aleksandr walked into the room. He was wearing his naval uniform, a reminder to everyone of just why he wasn’t going to be convicted, and the sight of the medals on his chest made her want to spit at him. She was trembling, unable to stem her anger. If she could reach her guns, would she be able to shoot him?

  “Why did you come back?” He stopped two paces inside the door, unwilling to get close to her. He knew what she could do; perhaps he knew more, now that he had sent a cyborg after her and Tera had escaped.

  “Because I couldn’t leave it like that.” Tera watched him as he began to circle. The back of her neck prickled when she lost sight of him. She didn’t know this man, not really. She couldn’t be sure that he wouldn’t shoot her in the back. “Let me down.”

  “I’m not stupid.”

  His voice brought to mind that day on Osiris, him crouching in the muck and the puddles and his lackeys fretting at him.

  “The day you found me.” Her voice was quiet. “I remember one of your soldiers arguing with you. Saying I was a bad choice for … what? What did he think you were going to do to me? Why did Talon ask me if you’d hurt me when I told him you adopted me?”

  Mentioning Talon had been a mistake. His face closed off abruptly.

  “I don’t think we need to air everyone’s dirty laundry.” His voice, while still the elegant drawl she had heard her whole life, now sounded cold and hard.

  She looked away. He continued to pace.

  “You sent someone after me again,” she observed.

  “Which clearly worked,” he shot back. He moved out of sight behind her once more. “So, tell me. Are you here as Talon’s emissary?”

  The surge of rage surprised her. “I’m here as my own person.” When he said something, she knew he had not believed it. “I’m not here as his emissary. And I’m not your toy anymore.”

  The sound of his pacing stopped. “My toy?” He spat the words. “You were never a toy.”

  “I was a tool.” And then surprised by the pain in her voice: “I was a pet.”

  “Tera, I swear to you that you were my daughter, more so than if you had been my blood. You are the daughter of my soul.” She could hear truth there. “I loved you. I still do.”

  “If I was the daughter of your soul … why didn’t you tell me the truth?” She turned her head to look at him, twisting awkwardly from the chains.

  To her
surprise, he flinched away from her gaze and resumed his pacing. “Do you know why I took you away from Osiris that day?”

  “Because we were alike.” He’d told her nearly every time he saw her. It wasn’t a secret.

  “More than that. I took you because you were a thing of beauty. You had the fire the world both craves and destroys. Osiris would have snuffed you out. You were meant for more.” He paused, and to her surprise. “I suppose that’s why I let Pallas take his resistance girl,” he said, to no one in particular. “He said the same thing about her: that he could not let Ymir destroy her.” At last, he looked back at her. “I could not let Osiris destroy you. You were worth more than that.”

  “And the rest of them weren’t?” The words came out of her in a rush, without thought. “What about my friends there? What about the other children? Weren’t they meant for more?”

  “You used to agree with me.” His voice was ugly. “Not everyone can be saved.”

  “You used to agree with that,” she corrected. “I still do, but you now think that means you can sacrifice anyone you want.”

  “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Try me,” Tera shot back. “Since you keep telling me I used to share your ideals, tell me what they are now. Because I honestly don’t know.”

  He did not answer the question. He came to stare at her, his eyes searching hers.

  “I rescued you,” he said quietly.

  “And you thought I would be too grateful ever to disagree with you?” she asked him. She saw him jerk back and she smiled. “No. You knew. You never told me about Ymir—you knew what I would think.”

  He turned away sharply. His footsteps rapped against the metal floor quickly. “Why did you come here? The ship is swarming with soldiers. There’s no way you can win this.”

  She could. She could do it now. In the few minutes she’d been alone, she had worked her boots off and kicked them across the room. The charge she had left in her implants could fry the floor if she wanted, and take him with it; he did not have rubber in the soles of his shoes.