His father promised he’d find his way. He was right, and this was it.
Cade’s thoughts stayed with his father, and in a flash, it all made sense. It was his responsibility to fight evil. To expel it from this world. And that’s exactly what he was going to do.
He stepped toward his friends, the light that poured over them shining brightly in his eyes. He could feel the heat and the power radiating off it.
Behind him, Ga Halle cackled loudly and maniacally. “Eager to join your friends?” she asked.
Cade turned back to Ga Halle, his eyes narrowed on her, his lip upturned to a snarl.
“You’re not going to show any mercy, Ga Halle?” he yelled, throwing his voice over the Rokura’s crackling pulse. Cade looked one last time at his tortured friends, then he turned back to Ga Halle. “Then neither will I.”
His heart pounding, his breath shallow, his body trembling, Cade stuck out his hand and took hold of Kira’s. In an instant, he was swallowed by the Rokura’s destructive, frenzied power.
All Cade could think of was how he was going to die. His flesh itched and burned like every molecule was engulfed in flames. His bones rattled and pulsed, feeling as if they were going to swell and erupt. Soon, all too soon, the Rokura was going to consume him, mind, body, and soul. And then, Cade would be done for. And the galaxy would be lost.
In the precious moments he had, while he could still maintain a train of thought, Cade had to act. Through the agony, Cade fought with all his strength to lift the shido in his right hand; he wanted to scream as he resisted the furious weight that pushed against his arm, but he didn’t want to misallocate one bit of his energy. Everything he had, everything he was, went into raising that shido. And once he had it level with his chest and directed outward, Cade pushed back against the Rokura.
He recalled what he’d done for the gorgan back on Monaskis. In that moment, Cade had followed his own desire and willed the Rokura to act as he’d wanted it to act, not the way he’d thought Tristan or Percival would have willed it. It was all Cade. And his impulse was simple: He wanted to cure the gorgan of the torment it’d suffered. He wanted to drive the evil that’d been instilled into the beast out and let it be free once more. And that changed everything. Cade felt power roaring through the Rokura, but it was different. Up until that moment, the weapon acted on Cade’s behalf only to subtly—or, at times, not so subtly—draw Cade to its side; it wanted to seduce Cade with the magnitude of its power. The darkness was in control, and even when it saved Cade’s life, it only did so to keep him alive until the time it could coax him into submitting to its terrible will. Its lighter half had been there the entire time as well, and Cade felt it, but his action in the Monaskis fighting pit brought it out of dormancy.
And now, as Cade was enveloped in the Rokura’s destructive force, he was also connected to it. He could feel its might circulating through him, but he was also able to reach out, knowing what he was looking for, and link to its source. And there, buried deep below its darkness and the strength it had been given by Ga Halle’s insidious hand, Cade detected the Rokura’s light still burning within it.
Cade called on the light to come to his aid; he screamed for it to help him in his fight to eradicate the darkness.
And the Rokura’s light answered.
Suddenly, the suffering Cade was enduring began to diminish. He began to regain control of his mind and body, and as the light rose within the Rokura, Cade was able to add his own will to the fight. Together, they pushed back against their enemies.
Ga Halle realized what was happening. Cade knew she must have felt the resistance within her, and her reaction to being contested drove her mad. “You will not take this from me!” she screamed as the look on her face turned manic.
Cade felt a surge of energy rush through the Rokura, into his shido, and then riddle his body. It pushed him back, and he felt the pain he’d endured at the apex of the Rokura’s hold on him start to return.
Drawing deep within himself, Cade resisted. He pushed so hard that it increased the pain he was enduring. It was all he could do to hold on. But it wasn’t enough.
Little by little, the Rokura’s darkness began to resume control. Cade felt his entire body radiate pain as his enemy worked to annihilate his very being. He looked down at his arm, the one outstretched as it held forth the shido; the skin of his exposed forearm was beginning to flake away. In moments, he’d be erased from existence, and he wanted to scream out his despair. He’d failed. He’d failed the galaxy, his father, and himself, and in the face of such shame, he almost welcomed the oblivion that was soon to come. He certainly couldn’t live in a world where he shouldered the weight of such disappointment.
But then, just as the pain was about to overwhelm him so thoroughly that he’d no longer be able to hold a thought in his head, he felt a gentle squeeze on his hand. He looked down, and he saw Kira’s fingers interlaced in his own. Fighting against the force trying to keep him down, Cade lifted his gaze so he met Kira’s. To his disbelief, Kira looked at him with love. She looked at him with what might have even been pride. And behind her, Mig, 4-Qel, Kobe, and Kay all shared that look, like they were grateful to Cade for fighting for them. For trying.
That’s when it hit him.
Learning, as Wu-Xia has said, “to be” had opened the Rokura’s light to him. Understanding his responsibility to fight against evil had given him purpose. But power? That came from his friends. If there was one true thing that Cade could rely on in this entire galaxy, it was that he was better when Kira, Mig, 4-Qel, Kobe, and now even Kay were by his side. All of them were better together.
In a flash, Cade felt his power—their power—surge.
A blast fired against Ga Halle, so strong that it caused her to stumble backward. Cade felt her trying to push back, but she was overwhelmed. She howled and fought with more than she had to give, but it was no use. Together, Cade and his friends were too strong for her.
“How?” Ga Halle screamed. “How is this even possible?!”
Feeling the Rokura’s light circulating through him, warm and bright, Cade squeezed Kira’s hand, and he unleashed a surge of energy that burst throughout the entire chamber. The remaining glass was shattered, the command stations were torn from the floor, and Ga Halle, howling her futile resistance, was blasted out of the chamber.
In the blink of an eye, the power that’d been thundering throughout the entire space was extinguished. The Rokura, lying on the ground where it’d been torn from Ga Halle’s grip, was at rest once more.
But it was different.
Cade picked the weapon off the ground; at once, it felt lighter in his grip. But not only that, the Rokura was no longer gray. It had taken on a dull white sheen from its hilt to its head. Cade closed his eyes and reached out into the weapon. He felt the light bounding throughout, buoyant. It was free of the darkness that’d encumbered it since its inception, and Cade felt harmony between himself and the weapon.
“Well,” he heard Kobe say over his shoulder, “that was intense.”
Cade turned around. His friends were all there, alive and well. He might have never seen a better sight in all his life.
“Whoa, man,” Mig said, pointing at Cade, “your hair’s all white!”
“Are you serious?!” Cade groaned.
Mig couldn’t contain his smile. “Nah, I’m messing with you. Just your weapon.”
Cade rolled his eyes, though he was glad that some things would never change.
“All right, all right,” Kira said, waving everyone ahead, “party’s over. For real this time, let’s get off this rock. I don’t ever want to see this moon again.”
Everyone was more than happy to follow Kira’s order, and they shuffled their weary bodies toward the Rubicon, which was still hovering just outside the chamber.
“This turn of events begs a particular question,” 4-Qel said as he approached Cade. “Whatever you just did, does this mean you’re now the Chosen One? Are you, Cade Sura, t
he true Paragon?”
Cade could only smile as he looked up at his drone friend. “There is no Chosen One,” he said. “I’m just someone who’s guided by the galaxy, and I’m lucky to have good people around me to help me along the way.”
“Hmmph,” 4-Qel said as he continued on his way. “‘Guided by the galaxy.’ That’s a nice thought. Ridiculous, but nice.”
Everyone filed onto the Rubicon. Cade was the last to board, and he found Kira waiting for him at the top of the ramp.
“I got your ship back,” he said as he strode next to Kira.
She didn’t say a word. She simply grabbed him by his shirt, pulled him close, and kissed him, long and deep.
When it was over, Cade was numb. He blinked fast and hard, and his brain refused to let him say a word, knowing he’d say the absolute wrong thing. Kira wasn’t sticking around for it anyway.
“Not so bad, Cade Sura,” she said, leaving him to stare out into space as the ship closed. “Not so bad.”
The Rubicon rocketed through the atmosphere, and Cade was still standing exactly where Kira had left him.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
They remained in the Rubicon for days. Licking their wounds, attending to their grief, recovering from everything they’d endured on Praxis, Monaskis, and Olanus. Each of them had been pushed to their limits in so many ways, yet they’d managed to accomplish more than they had dreamed possible. And they’d done it together.
Cade had passed the time sleeping; the Rokura’s drain on him was profound, and he felt like he hadn’t rested in years. Kay couldn’t put his work on hold for a moment; he stayed in communication with Gunk and the other Praxian forces as they overran the scattered strongholds that refused to surrender. Kira mainly kept to herself, dealing with her grief in her own way. Mig and 4-Qel pretty much played tatow the entire time. They’d even coaxed Kobe into joining their game, and Cade had been watching them for a few hands now, silently so as not to be noticed, from the ramp overlooking the cargo hold. He enjoyed seeing them let loose; he liked listening to them laugh and horse around.
He was about to turn back to the cockpit when he spotted Mig being, well, Mig. Even in a game among friends, Mig couldn’t help but cheat.
“Are you supposed to deal from the bottom of the deck?” Cade asked.
Mig jumped, startled, and the deck of cards he’d been dealing flew out of his hands.
“What? Who, me?” he asked, trying to sound innocent.
“Cheater,” 4-Qel reprimanded.
Mig chuckled uncomfortably and began to back away. “Look, wait, I can explain.”
“You owe us coin,” Kobe said, closing in on Mig with 4-Qel at his side.
“Well, yes and no. I mean, some of those hands I won fair and square. And I might have already spent some when we stopped for supplies, so—”
“What will the punishment be?” 4-Qel asked Kobe.
Kobe shrugged. “I’m sure we can get creative.”
Mig backed into a stack of boxes, knocking them over. There was nowhere else for him to go. “Hey, Cade! Cade, help me out here! Tell these guys to be reasonable; it’s just a game. It’s just—”
Cade shot Mig a salute, then turned and walked away. “I’m sure you can handle it, Mig. You wouldn’t have made it this far in life if you couldn’t.”
As he approached the cockpit, Cade heard Kira’s and Kay’s voices ahead; they reminded him that Kay had made plans to leave the Rubicon. Gunk was sending a transport vessel to retrieve him and take him back to Praxis. Though Cade didn’t know Kay all that well, he was sad to see him go. He was a dedicated soldier, and a tenacious one at that; both reminded him of Percival, and Cade wished the former Paragon were there to see everything that’d happened. He wished Percival had known that his belief in Cade had been warranted.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Kay was saying as Cade entered the cockpit.
“Come on,” Kira said, “look at me. I’m not exactly Baron material. I mean, if it makes you feel better, just think of this position as temporary. I’m appointing you just until I come back to claim my title.”
“Are you going to come back?” Kay asked uneasily.
“Absolutely not.”
Kay laughed and stuck out his hand for Kira to take. “I’m damn glad to have known you, Kira Sen. And I want you to know one thing before I leave, and you’d better never forget it. Your mother was proud of you. I spent my share of time with her, and I can’t remember one time she didn’t mention you. She was the best I’ve ever known, though let me tell you—the apple hasn’t fallen far from the tree.”
Kira looked at Kay’s hand, then looked back at him. She pushed Kay’s gesture away and wrapped him in a hug.
“Thank you,” Kira whispered.
When Kay pulled out of the embrace, his eyes were getting moist. “Now look what you made me do,” he said, wiping away a tear that threatened to roll down his cheek. “I can’t lead a planetary coup like this.”
Kira smiled. “You’ll do just fine.”
Kay nodded to Kira, shook Cade’s hand, then he was off.
“So, he’s going to lead Praxis?” Cade asked.
“Better him than me,” Kira replied, her voice conveying how much of a blaster bolt she was dodging by squirming out of the possibility of having to get involved in politics.
Cade turned toward the viewport. A dwarf star shone in the distance, and numerous points of light swirled around it. Planets and dust reflected its glow, filling the spaces between with shimmering light. Together, hand in hand, Cade and Kira walked closer to the viewport for a better look.
“Look at us,” Cade said after a moment of comfortable silence. “We sacked the tyrannical kingdom’s home planet and bested the galaxy’s most powerful weapon. Who would’ve thought?”
“Me,” Kira said flatly. “I never had a doubt in my mind.”
“No,” Cade said, turning toward her. “I bet you never did.”
He leaned over and they kissed; Cade reached out and felt the smoothness of Kira’s cheek. He felt her hand on his arm, soft but strong. There was no more Rokura pushing inside his head, no more agony over trying to be something he wasn’t and failing. Cade’s world was quiet; it was peaceful. It was a moment he wanted to stay in forever.
And then the comms crackled. Captain Temple’s gruff voice came through, cagey as ever. There was no better person to utterly shatter the harmony of the moment. Kira and Cade pulled away from each other, both of them smiling.
“I’d better—” Kira began.
Cade groaned. “Yeah, yeah.”
Kira cleared her throat and picked up the comms. “This is Kira. Good to hear from you, Captain.”
“Well, it’s about time!” Temple scolded. “You think overtaking Praxis gives you license to take a holiday?”
“Yes,” Kira said.
“Well, erm…,” Temple faltered. “You’re right. Just let me know next time.”
“What’s the latest?” Kira asked, getting to it. As she did, the cockpit door slid open; Mig, 4-Qel, and Kobe strolled inside.
“We’re hearing chatter from one end of the galaxy to the next. People are talking, Kira,” Temple said, his voice sounding as upbeat as it got. “If a Praxian rebellion can take the planet back from right under the kingdom’s noses, then there’s real hope for us all. We’re gaining support. We’re gaining numbers. In short, we might just win this thing.”
Kira turned and looked toward her squad—her friends, her family. They’d joined Cade at the viewport, and they were all looking to her. She knew exactly what their expressions meant.
“We’re on our way back, Captain,” she said. “We’ll see you at the rendezvous point.”
Kira joined her friends at the viewport, and together they took a moment to stare out to the galaxy, vast, wide, and bright. It was something worth fighting for, and it always would be.
“So, what do we do now?” Mig asked.
“Now comes the fun part,” Kira said. “
Now we go free the galaxy.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
As I sit down to write these acknowledgments, I can’t help but be a bit overwhelmed by all the amazing people I’m so lucky to have in my life and can thank.
Writing these books—and I say this without an ounce of hyperbole—has been the time of my life. Creatively and personally, being able to sit down for the past two years and craft stories about a group of misfits fighting a war in space has been more fun, and more fulfilling, than anything I could possibly hope for. And for that, I thank everyone who has joined me on this adventure. If you’ve read the first book, if you’re holding this one in your hands, please know that I am grateful—so very grateful—that you picked my story among so many stories. It means the world to me.
Yet not a word would have been written without my family. My wife, Alissa, is so patient with the many demands that writing a book requires, and she reminds me to step outside myself. She makes life fun, and I know she always will. My two boys and their imaginations, hearts, and joy inspire me to tell stories more than anything in the world.
I’m also fortunate to have an agent who I can call a friend. Jason Yarn works so hard on my behalf; he’s honest when I know it’s not easy to be honest, and his always-sharp insight continues to make me a better writer.
And, of course, there’s my editor, Marc Resnick. None of this would exist without him. He is the alpha of the Black Star Renegades universe and one of the best guys I know. Marc, I will always, always be thankful for the once-in-a-lifetime chance you’ve given me.
To everyone at St. Martin’s Press, from the designers to marketing to publicity and everyone in between, thank you for your talents and dedication.
I owe a great deal of thanks to Tim Daniel, my good friend who has helped me in more ways than I can count. And my aunt, Tracy, who is a better beta reader than I deserve. She, Chad McGavok, and Dirk Vanover were a tremendous help in shaping this book when I needed it most.
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