by Ben Hale
“Wait,” he said, and Siena raised her hand.
“You have a request?” she asked.
“I know you are human,” Zelor said. “So how do you fight like one of my race?”
“We should,” she replied. “We were trained by one.”
His features darkened. “Who would train slaves to fight?”
“If you don’t resist,” she said, “you’ll find out when we get there.”
She motioned to Onis, and he silenced the captain. She hoped he retained his willingness to listen. Most dakorians were too hardened to be teachable, and the soldier’s demeanor reminded her of Reklin. She resisted the urge to ask Kensen if they’d found him. It had been six months since Reklin had saved her life on the bridge of the criminal ship. The guilt had only grown with time.
“You can’t do this,” a voice called.
Siena turned and spotted the overseer, the scrawny man that had tried to warn the dakorians. She approached him and regarded him through the bars. Two of those in his cage recoiled in terror, while the man that had held the overseer back remained at his side, a hand on his elbow.
“What do you think we’re doing?” Siena asked.
“You’re turning us into traitors to the Empire,” he said with a shrill voice. “But not me. I refuse to follow you to the grave.”
Siena looked at him with pity. “You would stay loyal to the Empire? To the ones who have torn our families apart, killed and tortured us, and enslaved our entire race?” The man flushed at her mocking tone, and she leaned in. “Don’t worry, overseer. I won’t tell the others you’re a traitor.”
“We already know,” the man holding him said.
Siena gave him an approving nod and called to Onis. “Silence the overseer. We can’t risk him warning the next group of guards.”
The man blustered and spat, but just like the dakorian soldiers, his voice was extinguished. Onis nodded and slipped into his cell, while Siena activated her strength augment and jumped. She soared thirty feet and landed on top of the aisle of cells. Cries of surprise came from the slaves that witnessed the feat, and she finally turned her attention to the thousands of faces pressed against the bars.
Their terror had kept them silent, but she saw many with expressions of hope. They recognized Siena as a beacon of freedom, and she hated that she was about to disappoint them. From inside his cell, Onis pointed a finger, and she felt a tingle in her throat as he amplified her voice. When she spoke, her voice filled the entire cargo bay.
“I apologize for the brutal introduction,” she said, her voice reverberating off the seracrete walls, “but in a few minutes this ship will change course. Instead of heading to House Jek’Orus, you will be taken to a hidden world owned by House Bright’Lor.”
There were audible groans, and for many, their hope turned to anger. She couldn’t blame them. For a few precious moments they had thought Siena would grant them freedom. But for all Siena’s augments, she did not have the power to grant such a gift. At least, not yet.
“What you have seen us do has undoubtedly made you marvel,” she said. “And I promise your questions will be answered.”
She doubted they would all be quiet. They had been shocked to see Siena fighting a dakorian—they’d probably never seen a slave defy a soldier, let alone kill one. But the slaves like the overseer would likely call out warnings the moment they dropped into view. It wouldn’t matter. Onis would warp their voices into a cacophony of indistinguishable shouts. And the louder they got, the more the noise would be a distraction.
Standing on top of the cages and gazing out the wide window at the end of the bay, she activated her mind augment. Then she reached for Ero and Kensen, who were hidden onboard another ship secretly attached to the Light of Everden’s hull.
Siena, Kensen said, amused, I take it the first cargo bay is clear?
Ero’s voice was distinctly annoyed. You even sound in love through here. It’s disgusting.
Siena grinned. First bay is clear. If Kensen can fake a warning to bring the other dakorians to deck one, I can sneak past them and get to the bridge.
I can do it, Kensen said. Give me a minute.
Siena watched the ascender, a wide circle of glass bound within a gravity generator. It was stronger than the average ascender, with enough force to lift weight between the cargo bays. Siena smiled when an alarm sounded in the cargo bay; its high-pitched whine was sure to draw the dakorians from above. Siena waited for them to drop into view and begin their search before jumping to the ascender and taking it upward.
She had a ship to steal.
Chapter Three
Ero eyed the hull of the Light of Everden, pleased with how the plan had come together. They were stuck on the underside of the large cargo ship, like a roak hiding under a bed. The gravity clamp Siena and Tana had created was strong enough to keep them bound to the bottom hull even in hyperlight, and only a slight tremble shuddered through the Rising Dawn.
“She’s on her way to the bridge,” Kensen reported.
“We’re approaching the rendezvous point,” Ero replied. “Are you ready to drop us out of hyperlight?”
“I’ve hacked into their primary cortex.” Kensen fidgeted with his fingers like he was controlling an invisible holo, his eyes unfocused. “A few more minutes and I’ll have control of the navigational array.”
“Excellent.”
Ero leaned back in his chair and sipped his bottle of drey. After ten years of struggling as a fallen House, they were finally on their way back to their previous wealth. One look at their current ship proved that.
The Rising Dawn was smaller than the Nova, Ero’s previous ship, but an order of magnitude better. It was a Feltia class, designed to be a pleasure cruiser for noble krey, and a gift from Wylyn Mor’Val to Skorn. Ero wasn’t about to refuse the gift, even if he disliked the giver.
“How can you be so calm?” Kensen asked. “If anything goes wrong, the others are going to get killed. Or worse, discovered.”
“It’s Siena.” Ero said it like she was a titan of will. Which she was. “I’d bet on her against my own mother.”
Kensen continued to fidget. “But what if—”
“Stop worrying,” Ero said.
“Why?”
“Because it’s irritating.”
He paused in his pacing. “You’re terrible at offering comfort, you know that?”
Ero shrugged and drained the last of the bottle. “It’s not my job to comfort my slaves. I’m going to get another bottle.”
He stood and departed the bridge. The Rising Dawn was shaped like a teardrop, with the bridge at the point, and the gravity drive beneath the bridge. Two decks high, the rounded portion was open to the bottom deck. Ero turned towards the starboard balcony and followed it to the upper storage compartment.
The rear of the ship opened upward, turning the open interior into a cargo bay. Or a large pleasure room. Skorn had ordered the previous elements removed to make room for equipment. Now there were crates stacked three high, most containing supplies. They’d been shadowing the Light of Everden for three weeks, waiting for the time where Siena could infiltrate a group of legitimate slaves to get aboard. No one ever suspected a slave.
As Ero was selecting a bottle from the many inside a crate, his holo beeped. He absently answered, and a holo of his brother appeared at his side. Skorn and Ero looked much alike, right down to their blue eyes, the primary characteristic of their House. But while Ero had white hair, Skorn had black, matching the darker tint to his expression.
“Are you drinking?” Skorn demanded.
“Of course.” Ero examined the label and shook his head. He didn’t like the harder flavors. “What pairs well with stealing a ship? Maybe something fruity?”
Skorn ground his teeth together. “You should be on the bridge.”
“If they fail, they’re dead.” Ero found a bright blue bottle and smiled. He lifted it free. “You didn’t tell me we had a bottle of Korvellian brandy.”
“I didn’t know. It must have been onboard when Wylyn gave it to us. Now get back to the bridge.”
“Relax,” Ero said. “This is the third time Siena has taken a group of slaves to infiltrate a slave ship. And every time she gets better.” He pulled the stopper and sipped directly from the top of the bottle. He smiled in pleasure.
“This is also the biggest ship she’s ever tried to steal,” Skorn said. “I’m not sure if she’s up for it.”
“You’re the one that argued for us to take this ship,” Ero said, shutting the crate and exiting the compartment. “And if you thought Siena could not do it, we could have sent a few dakorians to help.”
“You know we couldn’t,” Skorn said. “We only have a few dozen dakorians, and we still don’t know if we can trust them.”
“They’re Reklin’s family,” Ero said, finally addressing the holo. “They won’t betray him.”
“But Reklin isn’t here. He gave himself to the Burning Ghosts so Siena could survive.”
“A noble sacrifice,” Ero said.
“He protected the product,” Skorn said. “But now he’s not here to ensure his family is loyal. The rest of his family back on Rebor are reluctant to sign their contracts.”
“Give it time. We’ll find Reklin and everything will be fine.”
I’m passing the second cargo bay. Siena’s voice sounded muffled, even in his head. Moving to the first deck.
Ero grimaced. Can’t you warn me when you’re about to speak into my thoughts?
Like this? I’m going to talk into your thoughts, now.
Ero could hear the girl’s laughter. I should get you a personal cortex. At least then you can talk like a normal person.
“She’s talking to you,” Skorn said, annoyed, “isn’t she?”
“I’ll never get used to a human with telepathy,” Ero said. “But it is rather useful. She’s almost to the bridge.”
“Good. I’m at the rendezvous coordinates now. You sure she can handle the bridge crew herself?”
“You’re not?”
Skorn glared at him but did not refute the statement. “Just make sure to reengage her auto-burn when it’s done.”
Ero rolled his eyes at the order. “If I must.”
Skorn disconnected the beamcast and Ero’s smile faded. Although it had been months since Ero had seen the vid of his brother destroying Kelindor, he had yet to confront him. The truth would shatter their alliance, which is why Ero refused to believe it. But as hard as he’d tried to dismiss what he’d seen, the doubt kept worming its way back into his skull. Was Skorn the reason their House had fallen?
Ero shook himself and forced the thought aside. Skorn was his brother and his most trusted ally. He would not have betrayed Ero. Drinking deep of the bottle of drey, he turned his thoughts to the mission.
Siena? he mentally called.
I’m kind of busy, she replied through the same medium.
Do friends ever turn on each other?
You ask that now?
She sounded annoyed, and he caught a mental image of her driving her energy blade into the belly of a dakorian. His hammer missed her by a finger width and thudded into the floor. He stumbled back, but another dakorian took his place, forcing her to retreat upward into the bridge.
Ero took another drink and tried not to think about Skorn. I’m just curious if you would ever betray a friend.
I would if they distract me during a fight, she snapped.
He chuckled. It had been almost a year since he’d bought Siena at the Cages of Thendigor, an illegal slave market in the beta quadrant of the Krey Empire. He’d liked her fire, but never imagined how turning the girl into an augment would fuel her courage. Within the Krey Empire, there were only allies and enemies. In his seventeen thousand years of life, Ero had never had a friend. Until now.
Skorn and the other krey that had joined House Bright’Lor over the last six months thought him foolish, but he relished the sense of trust he shared with Siena. The girl had saved his life on several occasions, and he could always count on her honesty, a rarity in the Empire, where every krey used deception, manipulation, and deceit for gain. Siena’s bluntness was refreshing, and whatever happened with Skorn, at least he would have Siena.
I have control of the bridge, Siena said.
Ero smiled. The girl was turning into a titan. He made his way to the bridge and sank into the captain’s seat. He put his new bottle of drey into the slot reserved for it, pleased that the creator of the starcraft had thought of such things.
Kensen was already on the controls in the copilot’s seat. He’d learned a tremendous amount about krey coding and crystal substrates, adding to his augment, which had altered his brain chemistry to interface directly with the cortex. His hands now flew through the holographic controls.
“Bringing up the bridge of the Light of Everden now,” he said.
The forward window of the bridge, which featured an underside view of the cargo ship’s belly, was replaced by a beamcast from the ship’s bridge. Siena stood at the controls, a trio of dead dakorians arrayed behind her. One krey was also dead, while a second was bound and gagged with a wad of cloth. He looked furious.
“You are as efficient as ever,” Ero said.
“Not efficient enough,” Siena said. She winced as she examined an ion burn across her waist. It had scorched her shirt and blackened her skin. She had a healing augment, but it still looked painful.
“Are you okay?” Kensen asked.
“You can kiss it better later,” Ero said. “Is the cargo secure?”
“Tana says they are.”
Siena took the captain’s seat and brought up the navigational holo. The bound krey writhed in his chair, obviously furious that a human had been taught to pilot a ship. As if Siena hadn’t already broken countless laws.
“Dropping us out of hyperlight . . . now.”
Ero grabbed the holo showing Siena and pushed it aside. Through the forward window, he could see the projection Gate forming ahead of the cargo ship. The Light of Everden passed through it, and the reverse Gate killed their momentum, decelerating them to normal propulsion. The stars slowed to stationary.
“Where are we?” Ero asked.
“We’re outside the Javelin system, half a lightyear from the rendezvous coordinates,” Kensen said. “Siena, I’m going to slave your drive to our navigation.”
“What do you need me to do?” she asked.
“You did the hard part,” Kensen said with a smile. “I’ll get us to Skorn.”
The Light of Everden banked away, the stars swirling as he corrected its course. Kensen locked in the new destination and the four gravity drives on the cargo ship powered up, funneling power into the new ion propulsion. The two cone-shaped nozzles at the back of the ship brightened.
“I don’t like the new drives,” Ero said.
“They’re much more efficient than just using the standard gravity manipulation to move a ship,” Kensen said. “With more power and a faster acceleration.”
“Then you can pilot us there. I’m going to have a talk with our new friend.”
Kensen blanched. “I’ve never piloted alone.”
“You can manipulate the cortex coding with your mind,” Ero scoffed. “You could pilot with your eyes closed.”
He smiled. “Really?”
“Of course,” he said, turning to the door. “But Siena would still be better.”
Kensen’s smile faltered, and Ero grinned as he left. It was good for the boy to learn some humility. Siena wasn’t the type to gloat over her achievements, but Kensen occasionally showed arrogance about what he could do, and Siena didn’t like it when he did. Pride was never attractive, even if it was deserved.
Ero picked up the bottle of drey and sipped it as he exited the bridge and turned left. There was a spring in his step as he followed the balcony to the Gate compartment and activated the controls with his personal holoview. It powered up and linked to the Gate adjace
nt to the bridge on his new cargo ship. A moment later he was stepping out of the portal on the cargo ship.
The bridge of the Light of Everden was spacious, with a second door leading to the captain’s quarters. Ero picked his way through the bodies of the dead dakorians.
Siena was leaning against the bridge controls, wincing as she examined her slowly healing wound. She sucked in a breath upon touching the scorched skin.
“Stop complaining,” Ero said. “You’ve survived much worse.”
She pointed to the orange-eyed krey. “He seems rather upset.”
Ero pulled the gag from the krey’s mouth, and was rewarded with a blast of expletives and the spitting fury of the captive. Ero stuffed the gag back into his mouth until he was quiet, then pulled it free again.
“You either talk to me like a respectable krey,” Ero said, “or I give you to her.”
He jerked a thumb at Siena. Blood-spattered and with her energy blade resting on the control panel, Siena met the gaze of the Light of Everden’s captain. The krey flinched and looked away. It was probably the first time in the krey’s life that he’d been afraid of a human, and Ero enjoyed his fear.
“I can see you have questions about the girl,” he said. “But don’t worry. I’m not planning on giving any answers.”
“That’s all you’re going to say?” the krey demanded. “That girl cut through three dakorians and my first officer like she was a Bloodwall.”
“I know,” Ero said, delighted.
The krey glared in accusation. “How could you train a human to fight? Does she even have a permit for that weapon?”
Siena issued a bark of laughter, drawing their attention. “Sorry,” she said, and went back to healing her wound. The black was gradually turning pink.
“And how is she doing that?” the krey captain growled. “Some sort of subdermal healing mech?”
“I told you I wasn’t going to give you answers,” Ero said.
The krey turned back to face him. “I am Prelith Jek’Orus, captain of the Light of Everden and second cousin to—”
“I know who you are,” Ero said. “We’ve been following your ship for three weeks, looking for the right moment to sneak my team onboard. I don’t care that your uncle is Head of House Jek’Orus. I only care about the release codes for the cargo.”