Broken Moon Series Digital Box Set

by F. T. Lukens

  Ren heard a whisper of his name. He knew it was Asher calling for him, and he felt the ghost of Asher’s touch on his physical body. He disconnected, easing back into his corporeal self. Ren opened his eyes and found Asher’s hand clamped around his wrist. He let out a shaky breath and they shared a glance. Ren knew Asher checked his eyes, but Ren didn’t care when Asher gave him a grin and a nod for a job well done.

  When Ren pulled his gaze away, he found the drift dark and soundless.

  Asher took no chances. They stuck to the deeper shadows between the glow of emergency lights. They darted between kiosks full of goods and hid behind overturned benches. Ducking behind a large potted plant, Asher held up his hand as they reached a cross section. He scanned the area and waved them forward into an alcove, where a large map of the drift spread across the wall.

  “What now?” Rowan asked, as they studied the map.

  The drift consisted of stacked levels. Each level was the shape of a wheel in which the hallways that connected to the core were the spokes and the curves were the outermost areas. Each level connected to the one below or above it via a lift. According to the map, Mykonos consisted of twenty-five levels, which in the dark would make for a dangerous game of chutes and ladders.

  “We find the Corps regiment stationed here. It won’t be large, a couple hundred at the most, but they should be around here somewhere.” Asher tapped a spot on the map. “The Corps recruitment office is on the fifteenth level. We’re on the tenth. We need to go up.”

  “Mother’s office is on the sixteenth and her apartment is on the twelfth. We should look there as well.”

  “I can tap into the comms and try to find any radio chatter,” Ren offered. “I can also hook into the cameras and try to locate the Corps.”

  Asher clenched his jaw. It was obvious he didn’t want Ren overexerting his power.

  “I’ll be fine,” Ren assured.

  “You better,” Asher answered. He took a breath. “Go ahead.”

  Ren pressed his fingertips to the wall and closed his eyes. Immediately, the other technopath was there, pressing back as Ren tried to dive in. Irritated at his intrusion, she blocked him with her presence.

  Get out.

  Her voice was an odd sensation of sound and touch.

  No.

  Ren shouldered in, looked for the comm system and realized it was useless. She could hear everything as well as he could, and the Corps wouldn’t be stupid enough to broadcast their whereabouts. He was forced to try the video, which he had sufficiently tangled only a few minutes ago.

  She was waiting, angry and frustrated. She had yet to unravel his mess.

  Fix it, she demanded.

  No.

  Then get out!

  This was pain Ren hadn’t felt before. He knew she couldn’t do anything to him physically, not with Asher, Rowan and Ollie protecting his body. But she did something to him, something that had him gasping and retreating with pain blooming sharp and real. A wave of sickness overtook him. It made him feel weak and nauseated. His star flinched from the onslaught.

  He pulled out with a cry and fell to his knees. Pain spiked in his head, drowning out everything around him. Black dots danced in his vision, and his ears rang with high-pitched sounds. Ren dry-heaved, back arching, his hands and knees planted on the drift floor. Sweat prickled on the back of his neck, and he felt ill in a way he hadn’t since he was a child.

  “Ren. Ren! What is going on?”

  “She did something to me.”

  “What did she do?” Rowan asked. She dropped down beside him and petted his head. Her fingers were a comfort threading through his hair.

  “I don’t know,” he gasped. “But she didn’t want me in there. She was mad.”

  “I thought you were more powerful than her,” Ollie said. “Couldn’t you fight back?”

  Ren should’ve been able to, but he couldn’t. He shook his head, swallowing the bile that wanted to crawl out of his mouth. “No. I didn’t know how.”

  “She’s under Abiathar’s control. Maybe it was something he taught her.”

  Ren took a few deep breaths, which helped to stop the nausea and clear the black dots in his vision. He shivered and ungracefully made it to his feet with Rowan and Ollie’s help.

  “You look pale,” Rowan said. “Maybe you should go back to the ship. You’ve done what you could, but with the other technopath in there, you won’t be able to help us now.”

  “No,” Ren said. “I’m staying.”

  “Ren, maybe it would be safer,” Asher said, offering a fleeting touch on Ren’s hand. “Abiathar’s here and I don’t want to risk—”

  “Yes, he’s here. And he has a lot to answer for, and I’m going to be there when he does.”

  Asher’s lips pressed into a grim line, but he acquiesced. “Fine. We should keep moving. She probably knows where we are now, and she might alert some of Abiathar’s soldiers.”

  “I don’t think that’s a probably,” Ollie said, softly, hefting his gun to his shoulder. “Listen.”

  They crouched in the dark of the alcove, pressed to the wall for cover, and, sure enough, they heard voices and the rhythmic tread of boots.

  Asher pushed Ren behind him and he, Rowan and Ollie readied their weapons. The moment was long and tense, but then the soldiers walked into view. They wore helmets and the same mismatched body armor Ren was familiar with from his time in the citadel. Stunners and prods in their hands, they swept their lights across the floor and, by some miracle, they missed the group on the first pass.

  One didn’t miss them on the second.

  The light shone right into Ren’s eyes, and he flinched, raising his hand to shield them. The soldier raised his weapon, but didn’t shout, as Ren expected. He didn’t move, not even in the face of Ollie standing to loom above him, or Asher moving into his offensive crouch; either action would have had Ren running.

  The soldier didn’t run. Instead, he raised a finger to his lips, gesturing for silence. Then he turned and yelled. “Hey,” he shouted, the sound ringing out through the empty hallways. “I think I saw someone run into the cross section over there.” He pointed toward an unoccupied stretch of the drift.

  In a flurry of movement, the sounds of boots and yells filled the small space. Asher stiffened, pressing closer to Ren’s side, and they both held their breath, though for different reasons. The sounds and soldiers retreated as the group marched away, chasing phantoms.

  Ren didn’t register any of the commotion, because he knew that voice. He had heard it all his life growing up in his small village. He had thought the last echo of it would forever haunt him—a cry of pain followed by bleak silence. But that was no longer true. The joy of it pinged around inside of him.

  Ren stood. Asher caught his sleeve, but Ren ignored him and his furious whispers of “Get down, Ren. Stars, what are you doing?”

  “Don’t come any closer,” the soldier said, raising his stunner and pointing it right at Ren. He sounded fearful. He shouldn’t have been. Ren wasn’t going to hurt him. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You won’t.” Ren walked closer, confident and certain. “Don’t be afraid of me.”

  The stunner charged, humming to life; the spark glowed in the core of the weapon.

  “I’m serious.” The soldier’s voice came out choked. “You don’t understand.”

  “Ren! Get out of the way!” Rowan’s harsh whisper added to the growing tension.

  Ren felt it, gathering in the atmosphere like a storm, resting along his shoulders. He could feel Ollie’s presence at his back, and Asher’s worried gaze, but he didn’t stop. He kept walking, until the muzzle of the stunner rested against the center of his chest. He reached up, wrapped his fingers around the weapon and pushed it aside.

  “You left me,” the soldier said, voice breaking on a sob.

&
nbsp; Ren felt shattered. “I thought you were dead.”

  “I thought you were too.”

  Overcome, Ren lunged and wrapped his arms around Jakob’s shoulders and clutched him close. Jakob dropped the stunner. It thudded to the floor, harmless. He pushed off his helmet and then grabbed Ren fiercely, his hands clutching the back of Ren’s shirt. Jakob buried his head in the crook of Ren’s neck and heaved a sob.

  “They bragged,” Jakob said between harsh breaths, “about how they blew the ship you were on out of the sky.”

  Ren tightened his grip. “They didn’t.” He shook in Jakob’s embrace. “I thought you died, right there in front of me.”

  Jakob pulled back, but stayed in the circle of Ren’s embrace. “I thought I did too, but I didn’t. When I recovered, I found out you’d gone.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  Jakob’s expression was solemn. “I was angry with you for a long time. I still am, to be honest, but you saved Sorcha, and I’m grateful for that.” He looked over Ren’s shoulder, his gaze searching. “Is she with you?”

  Ren’s heart sank. “She didn’t come with me.”

  Jakob’s gaze snapped back to Ren’s face. He stepped away from Ren and picked up the stunner. “What?” he asked softly.

  Swallowing, Ren pressed on. “She went back to the village. She went home.”

  “Why?” Jakob breathed. “Why would you let her do that? Why didn’t you make sure she was safe?” Jakob pushed hard at Ren’s shoulder. Ren took a faltering step back, right into Ollie.

  “She needed to go home. To warn everyone about what was going on.”

  Jakob moved closer and pushed Ren hard again. “Stars, Ren! Did you even think about what would happen when you escaped? Did you even think about the villages?”

  Ren froze, and for the second time in a few minutes, his stomach dropped. “What do you mean?” he asked, filling with dread.

  “They raided everywhere looking for you. Abiathar may have followed you to space, but the Baron and his other puppets looked all over Erden for the escaped prisoners, especially the powerful technopath who shorted out all the weapons in the courtyard while his friend was beaten.”

  “I didn’t know. I didn’t think—”

  “Of course you didn’t think,” Jakob snapped. “Ren, our village is gone. Do you understand? It’s gone.”

  Ren’s knees went weak, and only Ollie’s quick reflexes kept him standing.

  “How?” he rasped. “When? Why?”

  Jakob expression went dark and Ren could see the fatigue in his eyes, the defeat in his shoulders. “He made sure no one had a home to run to. You and I are the last of our village.”

  Ren gasped and this time he did sink to his knees. He wrapped his arms around his stomach and doubled over. His mother was gone. Liam was gone. Sorcha was gone. He was going to be sick.

  Asher shouldered in between them. He forced Jakob back.

  “Now is not the time for this,” Asher said. “If you haven’t noticed, we’re fugitives on a captured drift, and you’re aligned with the enemy.”

  “Do you think I want to be here? I had nowhere else to go. My father is dead. My village is destroyed. The only option was obey or be prodded to near death… again.”

  “But we’re here now,” Rowan said, stepping in smoothly. “I’m Rowan Morgan, captain of the Star Stream. This is my brother, Asher. And my crewman, Ollie. Our mother, Councilor Morgan of the Drift Alliance, has been taken hostage by Abiathar. We’re here to save her. If you help us, I promise to get you back home, or wherever you want to be.”

  Jakob’s eyebrows ticked up. “You’ll take me wherever I want to go?”

  “They’re people of their word,” Ren said, from his spot on the ground. “They’ve never gone back on their promises.” Ren gave Asher a significant glance.

  Jakob licked his lips and hefted his stunner. “There’s a control room on the twentieth level, right in the middle. Abiathar is there with the technopath. Despite the power failure, the internal defenses are active and ready to cut down anyone who looks like a threat. The entire populace is spread out on levels three and four. He’s threatened to vent those levels if he’s challenged. He sent us out to round up any stragglers and to track down the crew from the ship that docked. I’m assuming that’s you.”

  “Yeah, that’s us,” Ren said. He closed his eyes, pulled himself together, and stood. He’d mourn later. Now, he needed to do what he could to end this.

  “Twentieth level? So we need to go up,” Ollie said. “I thought we established this.”

  “How are we going to get up there?”

  “Have you seen any Corps members?”

  “What about the other technopath?”

  “What about our mother?”

  The barrage of questions came quickly, and Jakob took a step back, blue eyes wide. He raised a hand and checked over his shoulder. “I haven’t seen your mother or any Corps, though I heard some of them escaped. And you won’t be able to get close to Abiathar because of the internal defenses. He’ll need to think you’re not a threat.”

  “We can’t risk him venting the levels with the captives,” Ren said. “And I can’t do anything about it.”

  Asher crossed his arms. He leveled Jakob with a harsh gaze. “How many of your compatriots are like you? Willing to switch sides?”

  Jakob shrugged. “A few. They’re like me, only here because they don’t have anywhere else to go.”

  Rowan raised an eyebrow. “Ash, what are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking I have a plan.”

  * * *

  Ren flinched when Jakob snapped the cuffs around his wrists. Asher placed a reassuring hand on Ren’s shoulder, but the comforting touch did little to allay Ren’s fears about being captured again.

  “It’s for show,” Asher said.

  “It feels a little too real,” Ren replied, flexing his fingers. “I don’t like it.”

  He knew he could take the electronic cuffs off. He’d done it before, but the thought didn’t keep Ren from remembering the iron shackles that had been his constant companions during his time at the citadel. Being bound made him anxious and afraid, even if it was Jakob who had secured the cuffs.

  Ollie slid a helmet over his head, borrowed from one of the other soldiers. “Don’t worry, Ren. We’ll be there.”

  “I know,” he said, squirming. “I trust you. I just…”

  “We understand.” Rowan held her wrists out and didn’t blink when Jakob cuffed her. “But it’s merely to get us past the internal defenses. Once we’re inside the control center, the ruse drops.”

  Jakob radioed a few of his buddies who were less than sold on the Baron’s ideas of glory and domination. And while they were reluctant to take up arms, they were fine with standing aside and allowing Rowan’s group to do what was needed. They even loaned their armor so Ollie and Asher would be in disguise. The three of them would march Ren and Rowan to the control room. Once there, they’d capture Abiathar, take out the other technopath, save the captives and free the drift.

  Ren had his doubts.

  Not that he doubted Asher, but nothing had run smoothly since he had been captured. This wouldn’t be any different.

  He was right.

  Walking down the hallway toward the pneumatic lift that would take them to level twenty, Ren and Rowan marched side by side, with Jakob, Asher and Ollie, weapons drawn and ready, behind them.

  The first shot was a surprise for everyone.

  Smoke drifted upward from the scorch mark next to Asher’s foot.

  The second shot caught Jakob in the side. It glanced off his body armor, but it was enough to knock him down.

  Suddenly, they were surrounded by ten guards carrying weapons, dressed in smart uniforms. Ollie assisted Jakob to his feet, and they both raised their hands in surren
der.

  Asher burst out laughing.

  At first, Ren thought Asher had finally lost it, which he could understand. It seemed fortune was never on their side. Then Ren noticed the stylized Phoenix rising from flames on a patch on the shoulders of the guards.

  “Stars almighty,” Rowan breathed.

  Asher took off his helmet and wiped his eyes. “This could not be funnier.”

  “Hands up! Release the hostages.”

  “We’re not hostages. Really,” Ren said. He tapped into his star, and the cuffs released, clanging to the floor. He reached over and did the same to Rowan’s. “And they’re not soldiers.”

  Ren found the guns trained on him and realized his mistake a little too late.

  “He’s a star host. Watch him.”

  “Cogs,” Rowan cursed. “Save me from duster idiots and superstitious fools. Ash, please do something about this.”

  Asher chuckled before holding out a hand. “Okay. So we’ve found the Corps regiment. Good to know.” He set down his helmet and stunner, and the pulsers all shifted to point at him.

  Ren’s throat clogged with anxiety. “Ash,” he said. Nadie’s warning rang in his memory.

  “Relax,” Asher said, addressing both the Corps and Ren. “My name is Corporal Asher Morgan. I’m going to reach into my shirt and pull out my tags. You can scan them and my thumbprint to confirm my identity. And then you can put your weapons down.”

  The Phoenix members looked to their leader, and she nodded. One pulled out a scanner and approached warily, but Asher remained still. His tags were scanned and his thumbprint read, and the guard hastily went back to join his ranks. He showed the results to his superior.

  She pulled off her own helmet. Her black hair was unkempt; she had dark circles under her eyes. Eyebrow arched, she surveyed the screen and then swept her gaze over their ragtag group.

  “Corporal,” she said. “I’m Lieutenant Colonel Daly, acting officer of this Corps regiment. Welcome to Mykonos Drift.”

  “Yeah, thanks. Where’s your CO?”

  “Dead. At the hands of the technopath. She vented the Corps barracks and killed everyone inside. We few are what’s left of the regiment.”