Realization slapped Cade in the face with a cold, wet hand.
He’d been tricked by drones.
“Crap,” Cade said, trying to slow his momentum in time to change direction, but it was no use. The sentry fired, and before Cade knew it, he was covered in ionic netting. He tried desperately to pull the netting off him, but the anchors activated before he could get a chance; they worked in unison, pulling Cade to the ground and locking on to the floor. Cade could hardly move.
“Package acquired,” a sentry intoned as it stood above him. It pulled out a small blaster and aimed it down at Cade. “Preparing for transpozzzzzrrkkk.”
A blaster bolt tore through the sentry’s head, creating a blackened hole the size of Cade’s fist. Cade tried to jostle his head around to see who had done him a very nice favor, but he still couldn’t move. From his vantage on the floor, all he could see was the line of remaining sentries; they all dropped their pikes and were reaching for their blasters when, one by one, they were nailed by blaster bolts. Every single bolt was a head shot.
“You look like you could use a hand,” a voice said. Cade could move his eyes just enough to his side to see Ersia standing above him, her golden gamma blaster held up to her face.
“I think I’ve got it, actually,” Cade said. “I was, uh, just about to—”
“Oh, shut up,” Ersia said, stomping her heel on something just above Cade’s head. Whatever it was, it deactivated the net’s hold, and Cade was free. He got to his feet and admired his handiwork; there were drone parts everywhere, most of them showing the scorch marks from where they’d exploded. Cade still didn’t know what the gun he’d wielded was, he’d have to get his hands on one. 4-Qel would love it.
“You almost finished?” she asked, standing with one hand on her blaster and the other resting on her hip.
Cade flinched, then refocused. “Where are all these drones from? What’s happening?”
Ersia cocked an eyebrow. “Do I really need to explain that we’re under attack? I know you’re not the Paragon, but at least try to keep up with the basics.”
“That can’t be possible. No one even knows I’m he—” Cade’s words died in his mouth as a memory flashed in his mind. A memory of what he’d thought was just a vision: Ga Halle’s presence in his thoughts was far more real than he had imagined. She’d been able to see him like she was standing right there, on Monaskis, next to him. Which meant she was here, Cade was certain, and unless the ruined planet had a rear exit, he was going to have to deal with her.
“Listen,” Cade said, turning toward Ersia, “you have to get off this planet and take as many of your people as you can. There’s nothing Ga Halle won’t do to get the Rokura. She’ll kill you all.”
“Wow, thanks for the advice, Cade, but I think I’ll handle the war strategizing for my planet.”
“So, you’re not going to retreat?”
A shadow passed across Ersia’s face, and Cade knew the answer before she even said it. “Never.”
Cade pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t have the blood of the Monaskins on his hands, and he knew there’d be nothing but blood soaking the palace walls if he didn’t do something about it. Ersia couldn’t order her people to run; that wasn’t their way, and it never would be. She’d be deemed unfit to lead if she even tried. But Praxis would make a slaughterhouse of the entire planet if that’s what Ga Halle felt was necessary to get what she’d come here for, and there was no way Ersia and her forces could prevent that from happening. That left Cade with one choice—after all, Ga Halle had come here for him and him alone.
To save Monaskis, he’d have to face Ga Halle. It was a challenge he knew, deep down, he wasn’t prepared for. But maybe Wu-Xia was right, and whatever he needed to control the Rokura was already within himself. Which sounded really inspiring at the time. It was less so now.
“Where is she?” Cade grimly asked as he picked up one of the sentries’ B-18s. “Ga Halle. Where do I find her?”
Ersia paused and then drew in a breath; Cade could tell she was harboring something that either she didn’t want to say or she didn’t want him to know.
“Ersia,” Cade snapped, bringing the queen back into focus. “Where?”
“On the landing pad, right where you came in,” Ersia said after a moment. “But you have to pass through the throne room to get there, and that’s where most of the fighting is taking place. There’s no other way.”
Cade eyed Ersia skeptically, and he could tell—in her darting eyes, in her dampened mood—that there was more. She was still hiding something.
“And what else?” Cade prodded. “What aren’t you saying?”
Ersia turned her gaze directly to Cade; she was biting the inside of her cheek. “Well, it’s your friend. Percival. He went after her. I was forced away from the platform when we fell back to inside the palace, but what I saw didn’t look good.”
Cade tried to maintain a steady calm, at least for the sake of outward appearances, but he knew it was no use. He was sweaty, his hands were trembling, and he felt like a vein was going to pop beneath his eyes at any moment.
“I have to get to him. I have to get to her.”
“Like I said, through the throne room,” Ersia said, jamming a fresh charge into her gamma blaster. “We’re holding those Praxian beasts there.”
“Well, okay then. I’ll take it from here,” Cade said, turning to leave. “Thanks for leading me to your sacred chamber. It was useful. I hope.”
“Uh—what?” Ersia said, sidling up to Cade. “Did you just ruffle my hair and tell me to stay put?”
“I didn’t touch your hair, but you are definitely staying put.”
Ersia huffed and threw up her hands. “Why, because I’m a kid?”
“No, not at all. But—”
“Oh, I see. Because I’m a woman.”
“What? No!” Cade protested. “It’s because you’re the queen. And given your planet’s history with the Paragon, it’s probably best that you don’t get killed on my watch.”
Ersia looked at Cade flatly, then she started to laugh. “A drone? Kill me? Okay.”
Cade knew this argument wasn’t going anywhere. “For crying out loud—fine, you can come.”
“Gee, thanks, Grandpa.”
“Grandpa?” Cade questioned, unable to hide the umbrage he took at such an insult. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“‘For crying out loud,’” Ersia said, mimicking Cade’s voice. “My grandpa always used to say that.”
Cade blew out an exasperated breath. “Just … enough. Keep your head down, and follow my lead.”
Ersia smiled playfully at Cade, and together, the two strode down the hallway toward the throne room doors. The smell of blaster fire hung in the air, commingling with the ineffable scent of blood and fear. Warfare raged on the other side of a set of tall and wide double doors—chrome painted blue with the outline of a ligre’s head traced in gold on each door, likely Ersia’s family crest—and the sights and smells of its toll were never pleasant. Cade and Ersia stood side by side, their backs pressed against the doors, mentally preparing themselves to enter the fray.
“I hope you learned something down there with Wu-Xia,” Ersia said.
Cade scoffed. “As well as I learn anything.”
Without warning or even a countdown, Ersia lifted her foot—she was wearing mech boots, something Cade hadn’t noticed until now—and drilled her heel squarely into the middle of the double doors. The doors flew open, splintering under the force of her kick.
Cade was stunned by what he saw. While he hadn’t seen the throne room yet—he was unconscious the first time through—he felt confident in assuming it was, at this moment in time, definitely worse for wear. Monaskins seemed to have a passion for overblown décor and architecture—you had to do something during all those years in isolation—and there was no way that throne room, of all places, would have been any different. But now, hardly even the shadow of the Monaskins’ fine t
aste remained.
For starters, the ceiling had been utterly ruined. A Praxis Elite Thunder Cruiser must have pounded it with its battery of heavy artillery until the fortified stonework buckled under its compromised integrity. All that remained were a few scant bricks that jutted from the ceiling’s remains like fingers pried away from a hand that wouldn’t open. Cade could see the Thunder Cruiser hovering right above the hole; it’d stopped its assault on the palace—Praxis wouldn’t want the entire structure to come down with its own forces still inside—but drones and gunners still rappelled from the ship’s impossibly large passenger hold all the way to the ground. And on their way down, they all kept a steady stream of blaster fire directed at whatever they thought they could hit. Most kept their sights on the Monaskin ground forces, but a few of the gunners directed their fire at the distinct character of not only the room but the heart and soul of Monaskis itself. Cade spotted the remnants of wall paintings that’d been shredded, reliefs that’d been obliterated; at the moment, two gunners were targeting a banner that was embroidered with primitive symbols—a historical artifact, no doubt—that hung from the ceiling to the floor. The tattered remains of two similar banners hung nearby, their lonesome ribbons gently swaying amid the chaos. This is what Praxis did. The evil kingdom wasn’t satisfied killing people or even killing people en masse. They also had to kill entire cultures, wiping out as much history as possible. Praxian invasions only ended in two ways: complete abdication to the kingdom or a scorched and salted planet. After all, you couldn’t create an obedient galactic hegemony without torching the character of the galaxy as is, and that’s what Praxis fully intended to do.
A younger, less responsible Cade would have thrown himself right into the fray, driven by his righteous anger. But Cade knew better. He knew what was at stake. His objective wasn’t to win the battle; it was to navigate it. He had to find Ga Halle and face her. And once he did, one way or another, the assault on Monaskis would be over. She’d either kill him and claim the Rokura, or he’d do the same to her and put an end to the Praxian scourge right there and then. He was really hoping for the latter.
Ersia, who was crouched behind a golden pillar adjacent to Cade, yelled something he couldn’t make out. A series of blaster bolts chipped away at the pillar he was positioned behind, and the penetrating sound, combined with the crumbling marble, seemed to be as much as Cade’s ears could take.
“WHAT?” Cade yelled over the ruckus.
Ersia grimaced hard at Cade, then she twisted her body around her pillar and fired off two shots. The deafening noise that’d been thrumming in Cade’s ear stopped; he turned to see the gunner who’d been relentlessly firing in his direction on his back. He wasn’t moving.
“Nice work,” Cade told Ersia.
“Shots to the face usually do the trick, especially when they’re not looking; their armor can’t respond quickly enough to cover up. Plus, head shots are a lot of fun.”
“Uh-huh,” Cade said. “Good to know.”
“Look, I was saying—”
“Down!” Cade yelled, and Ersia dropped. Right as she did, Cade fired off two bolts, scoring almost two identical head shots on a pair of creeping sentry drones.
Ersia looked behind her and spotted the downed drones. She then huffed in an agitated breath and continued. “I was saying that the Praxian forces are trying to bottleneck my troops to the center of the hall. That’s good. They haven’t plugged the area yet, and that gives us an opening. We need to join one of my squads; they can create a shield around you, punch their way to the front doors, and get you out.”
Cade’s eyes wandered to the heart of the battle being waged at the center of the room. Drones, gunners, and Monaskin soldiers all fell, one after another after another. Cade envisioned the human shield surrounding him, guiding him to the palace’s doors, which was not a short distance. The Monaskins had to love their pomp and circumstance, because the runway leading from the entrance to the throne itself was about a thousand miles long. That was a lot of time for Cade’s shield to rack up casualties—soldiers dying because of him. He couldn’t stand the thought of that.
“I have a bull’s-eye on my back,” he said as the gears in his mind assembled an idea.
“Yeah,” Ersia replied, “that’s the problem. Can’t you just use the Rokura to completely wipe out Praxis? That would really be helpful.”
Cade grimaced. “It’s … complicated. And if I tried, I’d probably kill just as many Monaskin soldiers as I did Praxian.”
“So the weapon is good for slapping a target on you but not helping you fight back. Great.”
“Well, a bull’s-eye—or a benefit.”
Ersia huffed in another agitated breath, and Cade took it as his cue to get to the point.
“I’m a distraction. But we can use that. See, if I break for it along this far wall, all those Praxian morons will see me. Once they do, they’ll turn the attention over here, giving your troops the chance to pick them off and cover my exit.”
Ersia looked sternly at Cade. “That’s actually not a bad idea,” she admitted.
Cade surveyed the scene. It was as good a time as any to get moving.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Always,” Ersia replied with a smile.
Cade nodded, absolutely believing that Ersia was ready to blast whatever opposition standing in her way at any given moment, and took off.
Praxis had been waiting for them to do just that.
The moment Cade sprang out from behind the pillar, he was met with a barrage of countless blaster bolts screaming all around him. Thankfully, the distance to the next pillar was short, and while Praxis had been waiting for him, they hadn’t accounted for Ersia. With their attention drawn to Cade, the queen picked off no fewer than six targets. While it was an impressive display of marksmanship, Cade knew those were the only clean shots Ersia was going to get; now Praxis would be targeting her as well. Not only that, but there was no telling how many more drones and gunners would join the effort to kill Cade; there were already more involved than he’d anticipated. A lot more.
“We’ve got a long way to go!” Cade yelled to Ersia as he took count of the eight columns that separated himself from the front doors. Behind him, the Monaskin infantry was making the most of the attention drawn toward Cade and was launching an offensive to push back against the Praxian forces. The sizzling of blaster bolts streaking back and forth intensified, and Cade knew it would only get worse.
Ersia took stock of the distance as well, then a shimmer sparked in her eye. A sly look appeared on her face. Cade didn’t like it.
“Why are you making that face?” he asked. “What are you thinking?”
“You feeling lucky?” Ersia asked.
Cade drew in his lips and shook his head. He exhaled. “Not particularly.”
Ersia shrugged at Cade in a way that told him “too bad” and got on her comms. “Xeric! Xeric, do you read?” she yelled into her wrist unit.
Xeric answered quickly, but Cade couldn’t make out what he was saying.
“We need coverage—a lot of coverage. Order an unmanned pod car to ground in the throne room and then pull back. Get everyone away immediately. Do you copy?”
A crackling came through the comms, and then Ersia turned to Cade.
“Get ready to run.”
For a moment, it was quiet. Relatively. The battle still waged, but the enemies gunning specifically for Cade and Ersia took a break from their assault. Cade figured they were waiting on him to poke his head out. But then, the Monaskin troops began to fall back. They laid down suppressive fire, and Cade had to assume that it looked to Praxis like they were retreating. It certainly looked like it to him until there was a screaming across the sky, and then Cade knew the soldiers weren’t retreating; they were just getting out of the way.
Offensive fire erupted out of the Thunder Cruiser, directed at the pod that was coming in hot. The pod spun and weaved, deftly dodging the attacks as it accelerated toward
the palace—right at the hole in the ceiling.
“Let’s go!” Ersia said as she took hold of Cade’s hand and dragged him forward. Blaster bolts came at them fast and furious, but blaster bolts were the least of Cade’s problems. A transport vessel was about to crash-land on his head.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?!” Cade hollered as he kept pace with Ersia.
“No!” Ersia yelled back. “But it’s all we’ve got!”
The screaming in the sky grew louder and louder until it was interrupted by what sounded like an explosion. Though he really didn’t want to look up, Cade’s eyes instinctively shot to the ceiling. The pod’s rear engine was pouring out black smoke from where it’d been hit. But the Thunder Cruiser’s strike didn’t matter; the pod was barreling toward its objective, so enormous in the sky that Cade thought he could pick out even the tiniest detail of its protective shell as it rocketed through the hole in the palace’s ceiling.
The impact was tremendous. Sure, Cade had crashed a ship before. But it was a profoundly different thing to be inside a ship during a crash, safely strapped in, rather than outside. Upon the ship hitting land, a shock wave erupted in every direction; the power of it blasted Cade clean off his feet and propelled him back with unbelievable force. He smashed against a wall, crushing both his back and the plaster in the process. Though Cade’s body hurt so much he couldn’t even bring himself to breathe, he raised his head just enough to see the pod gliding across the floor, leaving a trail of rubble and obliterated drones in its wake. Its momentum began to waver as it reached the stairs that led to the throne’s platform, which is where the Monaskin forces had congregated. As the pod came to a halt, screeching and howling like a dying wild animal all the way, Cade acknowledged how fortunate it was that one of the engines had been knocked out before the ship hit the ground. That little bit of lost power probably saved every Monaskin life.
We Are Mayhem--A Black Star Renegades Novel Page 24