by F. T. Lukens
“I did what you wouldn’t.” She crept forward, features twisted in disgust. “The Corps would never leave us alone anyway. And Vos wanted to make us weapons. I broke away when you couldn’t. I took control.
“You killed people.”
“I did what I had to. I escaped Crei. I deceived you. I overthrew Vos. I won.” She laughed. “I won!”
Ren rubbed his brow. “At what cost? You’re alone. You have no crew. You have no family.”
“I am free.”
Ren shrugged. “You’re really not.”
She sniffed. “I have an army.”
“You have zealots who are in awe of you and who ran off the minute you were defeated.”
She cocked her head, gaze flitting between Ren and Liam. “You’ve found your brother. You have your Phoenix. You have what you wanted. Let me go.”
Ren shook his head. “I can’t do that.”
“The Corps is evil. You know that. Let me destroy them. Let me finish what I’ve started! Get out of my way!”
Ren sighed. He couldn’t reason with her. She was dead set in her beliefs, immovable as stone, and nothing he could show or prove or say would sway her. She was dangerous—not just in her power, but in her inability to look beyond her own desires. “No.”
She cursed and stepped forward. Her face was a storm cloud. “Then I’ll move you!” She rushed him, hands outstretched, voice caught in a scream.
The dream winked out.
* * *
Groaning, Ren rolled on the drift floor. His whole body ached. His throat felt like dust, and his fingers were numb. His eyelids fluttered, and he squinted in the dim drift lighting.
“Ash?” He worked moisture into his mouth. “Liam?”
With a tortured sigh, Ren squirmed, and found he couldn’t move his arms. Rope dug into his wrists, and his shoulders were taut from being bound behind him. Using his elbow for leverage, he got to his knees and wobbled.
A barrage of clicks sounded.
“Stay where you are.”
Blinking blearily, the shapes around him sharpened into view. Millicent was to his left, similarly bound, but not moving. Liam sprawled next to him. He had electronic clamps around his wrists and his eyes were slits, but he was awake. A regiment of Phoenix Corps surrounded them. They didn’t hold tech weapons—no pulse guns or electric batons. Instead, Ren stared down the barrels of ancient projectile weapons, like the one Zag had used on Crei.
Fear choked him. His heart beat a rabbit’s rhythm. “What’s going on?”
“You’re under arrest.”
Ren shook his head. “No, that’s not right. My brother and I have an agreement with General VanMeerten.” Ren couldn’t see beyond the corporal’s visor, but his hand holding the weapon shook.
“The general ordered us to detain you and prepare you for processing. She gave the orders to use the rope and the pistols.”
Betrayal was a knife between his ribs, a wound in his side, and, despite the outcome being something Ren expected from someone like VanMeerten, it still burned.
“Where’s my family? What have you done with them?”
“They were ordered back to their ship.”
There was a commotion behind Ren, and he craned his neck. He couldn’t see beyond the circle of Corpsmen surrounding him, but he could hear voices. Asher’s and… was that Darby? And Rowan? They were alive? They were safe?
“Let him go!” Rowan commanded.
Ren watched in dazed awe as the group parted when she approached. Her strides were long and purposeful; her blond braid was swinging behind her. Asher marched at one shoulder and Darby at the other. Ren’s gaze settled on Darby. He was startled to see the explosive device in her gloved hand. She saw him and winked.
“Yeah, you heard her. Out of our way and let our friends go, or I might just use this contraption.” She shook it, and the group took a collective breath. She smiled, cheekily. “Oh, so you do know what this is.”
“Release the brothers,” Rowan commanded, stance wide, hands on her hips. She had a bruise on her cheek and a smear of blood along her jawline, but otherwise she was an avenging angel as beautiful as she had been when Ren first saw her on Nineveh.
“Our orders—”
“Your orders are what I tell you,” Rowan snapped, pointing at the corporal. “Understand? No? Ren, show them.”
Ren wrinkled his brow, confused, until he saw the recording device Asher held in his hand—Lucas’s recording of the conversation with VanMeerten and Councilor Morgan.
Oh, he could kiss Lucas. He really could.
Focusing, Ren drew out a tendril of power, directed it at the recording, and fed it into the flashing signage above them. The image of the general and the councilor appeared, and the conversation played. VanMeerten’s voice was loud and clear.
“An honorable discharge for Asher. Credits for Rowan. And a pardon for the technopath and his brother. Warrants and files deleted.”
Ren rewound it and set it on a loop.
“As you can see,” Rowan said, tenting her fingers, “we had a verbal agreement. I intend to see that honored.” She gestured to Darby. “I’d prefer without bloodshed, but I could go either way at this point.”
Darby’s smile went sharp. “I know which way I’d prefer.”
“This is… unorthodox.” The corporal shifted.
Rowan raised an eyebrow. “I understand. I’d hate to be in your shoes, choosing between releasing a few prisoners or being blown to bits.” She stepped forward. “I’ll sweeten the deal. Let them go. I won’t tell my little friend here to blast us all back to our fundamental elements, and we promise to stick around until your boss gets here. How does that sound?”
“Stand down,” the leader said, raising a hand. “Holster weapons. Release the technopath and the dreamer.”
None too gently, a pair of soldiers jerked Ren to his feet and cut his bonds. Ren released Liam before the soldiers could touch him; the electronic cuffs fell at his feet. Ren rubbed his wrists and unsteadily walked through the crowd of Corpsmen, who eyed him like the danger he was, until he and Liam were quickly enfolded by Asher, Rowan, and Darby and tucked behind them.
“And the girl?” the corporal asked.
Rowan wrinkled her nose. “She’s of no concern to us.” She raised her finger. “But I’d make sure to keep her bound and sedated.”
She turned away and looped her arm through Liam’s while Asher took Ren’s hand. Darby walked backward, hefting the explosive device in her palm until they turned a corner and were out of sight. Then Darby tossed it into a trash receptacle.
“Fake,” she said with a shrug. “All pretty blinking lights and no substance, if you get my drift.”
Ren half-smiled, nodding slowly. Even with Asher’s hand snugly in his, even with Liam at his side, even with Rowan smirking, and with Millicent behind them, captured, and Ren’s freedom bargained for, he didn’t think it was over. It didn’t feel as though he was finished.
“Why the promise to stick around?” Liam asked. “I’d thought we’d teleport out of here as soon as possible.”
Rowan’s expression became more frigid than Ren would have thought possible. “Because I want to look VanMeerten in the eye when I confront her about going back on our bargain.”
Ren shivered.
“Are you okay?” Asher asked.
Ren raised his hand in front of his eyes. “I’m a little disconnected.” And maybe that was what was wrong. He was still in the drift. His power was bleeding out of him with each step he took, emanating from the soles of his feet into the deck plating and into the walls and circuits and systems, stretching out and up and down, repairing his mistakes, rerouting power, fixing, and searching, and—
Asher nudged Ren’s shoulder and tightened his grip on Ren’s hand. “Hey,” he said softly, “come back to me.”
The softness of the touch and the physical response—the blush rising in his cheeks, the stutter of his heart, the warmth in his belly—brought him back to his corporeal form. Yes, yes, this was real. Asher was real, and Ren slotted into his body, his tethers to the drift snapped, and he centered into himself, alive and whole and human.
He smiled. “I’m right here.”
* * *
Back on the ship, there were hugs all around, then medical exams by Penelope. Ollie suffered bruises and a strained back from fighting a squad of troops. Darby had a sprained ankle from when she dove into a trash chute to evade capture. Rowan had a painful graze on her leg, and Lucas showed off a black eye from resisting when Millicent’s force broke into the ship. Otherwise, everyone was fine.
Liam pitched onto the couch in the common room and fell asleep. His snores were an ambient sound when the rest of them gathered around the worn table. Ren traced a scratch with the tip of his finger while he absently ran diagnostics on the ship.
“We’ll send Jakob and Sorcha a message and let them know that Vos plans on returning to Erden to reclaim his fife,” Asher said, sipping a cup of water, one hand firmly clasped in Ren’s. “Maybe we can ask Liam to do it in a dream.”
Darby snacked on an apple. “Who are they?”
“Friends of ours.” Ren smiled softly. “They’ll be able to stop him, I’m sure.”
“Good. He sounds like a cog.”
Ren’s lips twitched into a smile. “He is.”
“And VanMeerten? What are we going to do about her?” Lucas asked. He had his goggles on his head; the skin around his eye was puffed and darkening. “Frankly, I want our credits. We survived all this, and I want to spend some time on a resort drift.”
Liam rolled over. “There are resort drifts?” he asked sleepily. “I wanna go.” Then he snored.
“I’m with him,” Darby jerked her finger over her shoulder.
“Does that mean you’re staying with us?” Rowan asked. “Now that we’re free to drop you off at any drift you’d like.”
Darby tilted her head. “Is that an invitation, Captain?”
“Take it as you will.”
Darby drummed her fingers on the table. “I’ll stay. For now. I don’t know what to say. I like this crew, even the marks and the bunnies.”
“Well, add my vote for resort drift,” Ollie said with a nod. “That’s four.”
Rowan smiled. “As badly as I need a spa day, we still have one last meeting, and I am looking forward to rubbing our success in her smug face.”
“VanMeerten?”
Rowan scoffed. “No, my mother’s.”
“Oh,” Darby said around a bite of apple. “You people still confuse me, but I’m good. There are plenty of places I still need to explore on this drift.”
Penelope raised her finger. “No stealing, please.”
Darby sighed and rolled her eyes. “Fine. No stealing. This time.”
The chatter continued well into the late hours of drift’s time, but as soon as there was a pause, Ren and Asher stole away.
They stumbled into their room, weary with exhaustion. Ren’s hands shook from the adrenaline drop as his body finally was catching up with the day’s events. Asher pushed Ren against the wall and clenched his fingers into Ren’s hips. His breaths hot on Ren’s neck. Ren trembled.
“Are you okay?” Asher asked, voice pitched low.
“I can’t stop shaking.” Ren laughed. “I’m good though. We won. I won and I’m here. What about you?”
Asher huffed, his cheek rasped against Ren’s, and his voice was breathy in Ren’s ear. “All I could think was that we’d be separated again. That you’d break apart in some effort to stop her. Or you’d be taken away or worse and I’d not be able to stop it. I don’t know what we’d have done if Rowan’s ruse hadn’t… if that soldier hadn’t…”
Ren frowned. He patted the back of Asher’s head. “It worked. It worked, and we’re on the ship, and Millicent is captured, and we’re okay.”
“For now. VanMeerten tried to go back on our bargain already. What if she tries again? What if Rowan can’t stop her?” Asher shook in Ren’s arms; his grip on Ren bordered on painful. “The Corps only takes. They take and take with no regard to anyone and—” Asher choked on air.
Asher’s visceral panic pierced Ren to his core, and he clutched Asher closer. He wrapped his arms tight around his shoulders. “Hey, it’s okay, Ash. It’s okay. We’re together and we’re safe. And our family is safe. Breathe with me.”
Several long minutes later, Asher’s ragged breathing evened out, and he sagged into Ren’s embrace.
Ren allowed his head to thunk against the wall.
“I think,” Asher said, his voice breaking the silence, “that some time on a resort drift is a good idea.”
The knot in Ren’s chest slowly eased. “Understatement.” He sighed. “Ash?”
“I’m fine.” Asher sniffled. “Residual adrenaline and, well, unresolved resentment toward the Corps, but I’m good for now.”
Ren raised an eyebrow, but acquiesced. “Later.” He ran his fingers through Asher’s hair. “We’ll talk later and we’ll address it together.”
Asher nodded. “Together.”
“Until then, how about a shower and a nap?”
Asher gave Ren a weary smile, but one that was genuine and bright. “Sounds perfect.”
* * *
True to Rowan’s prediction, General VanMeerten and Councilor Morgan arrived two days later looking harried and uncomfortable. Called into VanMeerten’s office, the entire crew faced her as she stood behind her desk. Asher’s and Rowan’s mother stood at her side.
She eyed them as if eyeing bugs under glass. Her lip was curled into a sneer; her gray was hair pulled back. She seemed to have aged since the last time Ren saw her; wrinkles were deeper around her eyes and mouth, and her scar was etched down the side of her face. Councilor Morgan was her opposite: impeccably put together, blond-gray hair in an elaborate twist, wearing flowing dove-gray robes.
Rowan stood across from her, decked out in drifter gear with a weapon strapped to her side and at her shoulder and her hair in one long glorious braid.
“You reneged.” Rowan crossed her arms. “At least, you tried to. It didn’t go so well for you.”
VanMeerten’s gaze cut sharply to Ren. He waved, a wiggle of his fingers, and the taut line of her mouth turned down.
“Reports were that my soldiers neutralized the threat, not you, and therefore the deal was off.”
“Your reports were wrong. We,” Rowan said, gesturing to the crew, “neutralized her. Your soldiers swooped in once Millicent was passed out on the deck from our efforts.”
“Sadly, there is no video evidence supporting your claims. All of it was disrupted in some way.” She narrowed her eyes at Ren. “I had to go by my trusted soldiers’ reports.”
“They lied,” Asher said.
“Were they lying when they said the drift went into shutdown and the entire populace almost died. That you yourselves almost died.”
“I fixed it,” Ren said. “And as you can see, the drift is still intact and running without a single hitch.”
“See? We’ve performed more than one service here.” Rowan smirked. “Give us what you owe us.”
Councilor Morgan sighed; her shoulders drooped. “Rowan, Asher, we can work something out, I’m sure. We’ll compromise. Credits are doable, beyond that—”
“No.” Rowan’s glare turned icy. “We want an honorable discharge for Asher and we want Ren and Liam’s files expunged with a promise that the Corps will leave them alone. Those are nonnegotiable.”
“And credits,” Darby coughed into her fist. “Don’t forget the credits.”
“You’ll get credits!” VanMeerten’s chest heaved.
Rowan stalke
d forward and braced her hands on the edge of the large desk, bending until her face was mere inches from VanMeerten’s.
“Now you listen to me, you hag,” she said, tone full of venom. “I know what you did to my brother. I know the things you put him through as one of your soldiers, leaving him behind, and then sentencing him to a dirt existence when he didn’t fit your mold. And then, you killed our friend, murdered him because you didn’t want to deal with the fact that there are people the Corps cannot control. You couldn’t stop Millicent, despite your assertions, and you couldn’t stop Vos, a measly planetary baron. You’re weak. We know it. And it’s only a matter of time before everyone knows it, unless you give us what we want, which isn’t much in comparison to what you’ve done.”
“Are you blackmailing me, Morgan?” She looked at the councilor. “Are you going to allow your daughter to do this?”
The councilor shrugged. “I have no control over Rowan or Asher. I never did.”
“Ren can tell the cluster, you know. One transmission to every drift and every planet. I don’t need to remind you that we’re trusted in several different locales. One word from us and you’ll have trouble all over.”
That was a lie, but there weren’t enough credits in the world for Ren to point it out. Rowan was fury incarnate, barely contained, and a sight to behold as her glare flayed the recipients to the bone.
“Credits,” VanMeerten ground out. “Honorable discharge. The brothers freed. Records deleted. And we’ll stay off the planets unless called.” She pulled away from Rowan and raised a finger. “But don’t test me, understand? You better fly clean and clear from this point forward.”
Rowan smiled. “You won’t need to worry about us, General. But, just in case,” she pointed to Ren.
On cue, Ren’s eyes glowed blue then darkened to purple. “I’ll be watching.”
“We’ll be watching,” Rowan amended, gesturing to the group of them. “As will the friends we’ve made planet-side and on the other drifts. And don’t think for a second we’ll allow the Corps any leeway whatsoever.”