by Ben Hale
Her fingers passed over a latch and she fumbled for it. It was a maintenance hatch, designed for repairs by a krey engineer when the ship was out of the water. She didn’t want to flood the ship, so she used her augment on the water itself, forcing the still liquid to bond together. For added measure, she pulled from the twisted gravity funnel, using its power to keep the water in its shape. Then she pulled on the latch and lifted.
The seracrete opened with a hiss, but the water stayed in place. She shoved her head through the water and sucked in a lungful of real air, her vision spinning. Hanging half out of the water, she struggled not to pass out.
“…must be a problem with the starboard propulsion,” a dakorian voice called. “I’ll have to reset it manually.”
Siena dragged herself out of the hatch and flopped on the floor like a fish. Drenched and trembling, she reached up and closed the hatch. She was too weary to stand, so she dragged herself into a corner behind spare lengths of seracrete piping. Heavy footfalls approached and a door opening, revealing the water on the floor and a warning light on a small control panel. A dakorian stepped to it, his foot passing over the trail of water she’d left. Siena held her breath.
“Blasted piece of junk,” the dakorian muttered as he reset the funnel. The holo showed the twisted weave return to its normal shape, and the flow resumed.
Siena reached out to the nearby puddle, and the molecules flowed into droplets that rolled across the floor. The dakorian tapped the control panel, his back to Siena. Then he turned and exited, his foot stepping right where the puddle had been.
“Reset complete,” he called. “Must just be a faulty line of code in the cortex…”
Siena released every augment and huddled in the darkness, trembling from exhaustion and weakness. As the heat that suffused the metal at her back crept into her bones, a grim smile spread on her features. The last time she’d tangled with the Burning Ghosts, they’d taken Reklin. This time, she was taking him back.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
“I don’t know anything,” Ero insisted for the hundredth time.
The Rangers were furious. The judges were furious. Everyone was furious. And the smoke from the explosion in the floor was still drifting across the ruined Tribunal Hall. Ero and Skorn had been interrogated for the last two hours by Rangers. Then Relic Thendigor arrived.
The royal entered the room dressed in his supremacy uniform. Black and tailor-made, it matched his black eyes, while the blue lines and bright silver bars on his shoulders marked his rank. Dozens of officers accompanied him, all clamoring for answers, but he marched right up to Ero and Skorn.
“You two, with me.”
Turning on his heel, the royal drew a short distance away. Ero and Skorn exchanged a look and then followed. Relic barked an order, and his officers began ushering everyone out of the Tribunal Hall.
Ero had been in the same room with a number of royals. All had been beyond arrogant, self-indulgent, garbage. Relic, on the other hand, was widely regarded by the Empire as different. He’d forsaken his royal House at a young age and promptly joined the Rangers. He’d chosen to skip the automatic royalty track and insisted on beginning at the lowest rank. Step by step, he’d risen through the Corps until he’d attained the rank of supremacy, an office that was not appointed, but internally voted on by Ranger officers.
The krey regarded Ero and Skorn and then spoke bluntly. “Did you help your father escape?”
“If we had, we wouldn’t have stuck around,” Skorn said.
Relic smiled faintly. “That much is obvious. From what I understand—both that which is proven, and that which is alleged—you wanted him dead as much as Malikin.”
“At last, someone in the Corps has a measure of intelligence,” Ero said.
“Unfortunately, the Empire wants someone to blame for this debacle,” Relic said. “And since no one else is here, they want your heads. Unfortunately, there is no evidence, so I have refused to launch an investigation.”
Ero and Skorn exchanged a surprised look, and Skorn said, “Why?”
“Because if Dragorn is returned to your House, you have the most to lose. And since I doubt my officers can find him, I’m hoping you can finish his sentence.”
“You want us to kill him?” Skorn asked.
“The law cannot condone such an action,” Relic replied. “But I can confirm that his execution has been ordered. Under the circumstances, the manner of that execution will be more…lenient…than what is considered tradition.”
Ero grinned at the implication. The Rangers would be under fire for allowing Dragorn to escape, and under the circumstances, Relic was smart enough to know that if Dragorn was killed, the conflict would resolve itself. The krey motioned to one of the nearby krey officers.
“Supremacy?” the officer asked.
Relic motioned to Ero and Skorn. “Escort these krey to a working Gate and get them off planet.”
“As you order.” The officer gave a curt nod and turned to Ero and Skorn. “If you’ll follow me.”
Ero and Skorn joined the krey, who led them to the entrance where Dragorn had been brought. Leaving the public tribunal halls and chaotic shouts of recorders behind, they threaded into the tunnels used by officers to move the accused to their appointed tribunals. Halfway down, the officer pointed them into a small Gate Chamber and activated it with his official code.
“The Fugitive Protocol is in effect, so every Gate on the planet has been shut down.” He pointed to the Gate. “This will take you to an isolated Gate where you can depart to anywhere you wish.”
“Thank you,” Ero said.
The krey nodded. “I suggest you leave quickly, before recorders know you have departed and attempt to follow you.”
“We’re already gone,” Skorn said, striding to the Gate.
It powered up, and Skorn linked it to a Gate on the mainland, an underground chamber with an in-system Gate and a World Gate. Skorn went to the control panel and used a self-erasing code to open a Gate to Lumineia. They arrived on the planet at night, with the moon to illuminate the path to the City of Dawn.
“How did this happen?” Skorn snapped. “Everything was in place, and all he had to do was die.”
“I guess he didn’t like his role,” Ero said.
“You think this is funny?” Skorn rounded on him. “Dragorn legally owns every asset of the House, including Lumineia, the slaves, even this planet. And if we don’t capture him before the ten days expire, he’ll be free.”
“That law is archaic,” Ero said. “If they find him after ten days, surely they will still perform the execution.”
“That law is old,” Skorn said, “but you know the Empire. They’d rather uphold an old law than be seen as overtly corrupt. The Rangers will be out for blood, and the clock is ticking.”
“Then we should find him,” Ero said.
Both brothers’ holos beeped at the same time, indicating a beamcast. Skorn’s features darkened. “I’m guessing he found us.”
Ero activated the beamcast, and the holo expanded into the shape of their father. The krey had discarded the white robes of the Condemned in favor of fitted black pants and a dark blue tunic with black threading. He stood tall and arrogant, his sneer bordering on triumphant. In the background was the curved hull of a ship.
“Father,” Ero said evenly.
“I expected more delight,” Dragorn said. “But I’ll settle for fearful. I do love the expression when an enemy realizes they’ve lost.”
“You should have told us,” Skorn growled. “We could have helped you escape.”
Ero envied his brother’s false anger. It looked real, and Dragorn would believe him—even though a meeting would likely lead to the quick end of their father.
“It couldn’t be helped,” Dragorn said. “The Burning Ghosts planned my escape, but the two of you needed deniability. It would not do to have me escape just to put you both in Condemnation.”
“Then what’s your plan?” Skorn
asked. “We have to keep you alive for ten days.”
“I’m sending you a set of coordinates in deep space. We’ll rendezvous with Visika there.”
“What did an alliance with the Ghosts cost?” Ero asked.
“Exclusive distribution rights for the augments,” Dragorn said. “A small price to pay, don’t you think? Don’t be late. Oh, and come alone.”
The beamcast ended, and Skorn passed a hand over his face. “This is worse than we ever could have imagined. If Dragorn really has the full support of the Burning Ghosts, there’s no way we can kill him.”
“We could just abandon him.” Ero shrugged.
“Would that it could be that easy,” Skorn said. “Don’t forget, Dragorn located Lumineia in the first place, so he knows where it is. Not to mention if we don’t show up, we’ll prove we are not his allies. He can legally have us exiled from House Bright’Lor, and we’ll lose all the privileges of being in a House.”
When Dragorn had escaped, Ero had been disappointed, but he’d assumed that the Rangers or Skorn would kill them. Now he began to understand the full extent of their situation. The Burning Ghosts had realized they couldn’t make a deal with Ero and Skorn, so they’d freed Dragorn, effectively stealing the entire House. It was brilliant. It was also devastating.
Ero had spent most of life just expecting things to work in his favor. They usually did. Even when Kelindor had been destroyed and their House had fallen, he’d remained largely unscathed. But this was different. Dragorn’s return to House Bright’Lor could spell the end of everything they’d been building. Knowing Dragorn, he would not be content to wait for a more cautious and measured sale of the augments; he’d want to proceed soon. And such impatience would invite the full Imperial fleet to their doors.
His thoughts turned to Siena. What would Dragorn do with her? He would undeniably view her as a product of enormous value. Would he sell her? Or keep her as a trophy? The thought sent anger spilling into his veins and he clenched his fists.
“I think it’s time we finish the execution,” Ero said.
Skorn gave a grim nod. “Let’s go take our House back.”
“We need a ship.”
“We have one,” Skorn said. “Wylyn was generous enough to give us a vessel while you were in Condemnation. It’s in orbit around Mylttium now.”
“Are we really going alone?”
Skorn considered the question, and then opened a beamcast to Teridon and Worg, who were in a Ranger medical facility with Kensen and Quis. The holo resolved to show Worg’s pained features.
“What?” the dakorian growled as a cell regenerator worked on his face.
“Dragorn has set a meet. As soon as you are able, get the four of you back to Lumineia and await instructions. We might need you to Gate into a fight.”
“We’ll be ready,” Teridon said.
Skorn severed the link. “Let’s go.”
Feeling a kinship with his brother he hadn’t felt in weeks, Ero followed Skorn through the Gate. They arrived on an Eldon-class ship, a new model in the shape of a perfect circle. Compartments lined the primary deck, with the cargo bay off to one side, and the bridge on the opposite.
“The Blue Iris?” Ero raised an eyebrow to his brother as he read the identity tag. “That’s not very subtle.”
“Wylyn named it,” Skorn said, with just a touch of red in his cheeks.
Ero hurried to the bridge and jumped into the pilot’s seat. Skorn claimed the copilot’s chair, and Ero powered up the gravity drive before banking them away from the planet. Hundreds of ships buzzed around the surface, a moving blockade to prevent Dragorn from escaping. Ero had to wait for clearance to depart. He chaffed at the delay. Knowing Dragorn, he was already out of the system, so a blockade was meaningless. The Rangers didn’t care, and it seemed like they’d summoned half their entire corps. A thousand Enex-class ships stopped every departing ship, and only with Relic Thendigor’s release were Ero and Skorn given clearance to depart.
They skipped the large Ship Gates, and Ero put their stern to the sun and set them on course out of the system. Just as they were about to jump to hyperlight, another beamcast signal pinged their comms.
Skorn tapped it and frowned. “Why would Ravel be trying to talk to us?”
“Who cares?” Ero said. “Answer it.”
“Say nothing about where we’re going,” Skorn warned.
Ero rolled his eyes. “I’m not stupid. I know who she is.”
Skorn reluctantly accepted the beamcast, and the head of Ravel resolved in the holo over the bridge controls.
Ero forced a smile. “What do you want?”
“Does your offer on an exclusive interview still stand?”
“You ask that now?” Ero asked.
“News is spreading like wildfire,” the woman said. “There’s requests from even the outer rim planets about what is happening, and half the vid channels are beamcasting his escape. This is the biggest news in the Empire in a generation. And that doesn’t even account for your new product line.”
“We have a lot to deal with,” Ero said. “I don’t have time for an interview.”
“Even if I have information about your father?”
Ero’s eyes flicked to Skorn, who nodded. “What do you know?” Ero asked.
“Do I get my interview?” she pressed.
“If House Bright’Lor is still standing after ten days, you’ll get it.”
The woman’s smile was radiant. “I have a contact who works in a monitoring post on Mylttium-4.”
“The military moon?” Ero asked. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Everything,” Ravel said. “He claims he spotted a tacoda shark outside its normal migratory patterns.”
“So?” Ero asked.
But Skorn was nodding. “So that’s how he got out of the area so fast.”
Bewildered, Ero shook his head. “What are you talking about?”
“The military developed an underwater stealth vessel that looks like a tacoda shark,” Skorn said. “It even mimics their movements. I’d bet anything the Ghosts have a stolen one and used it to get Dragorn out to sea. From there, they can just wait until the Gate lockdown is lifted to get off planet.”
“If it’s a stealth ship, how did your contact spot it?” Ero asked.
“That’s what’s odd,” Ravel said. “The shark lurched to the side, a movement that caught the attention of the underwater sensors. It recovered in less than a minute and continued, but he could have sworn that in that moment, a small object merged with the shark and disappeared.”
Ero’s frown deepened, and then a grin spread on his face. “Siena got onboard.”
Skorn was dubious. “You think she boarded a stealth ship hundreds of feet underwater? That’s impossible, even for her.”
“I think nothing is beyond that girl,” Ravel said.
The realization that Ravel knew Siena—and knew her abilities—settled on both Skorn and Ero. Skorn’s expression was inscrutable, as always, while Ravel simply seemed amused.
“You don’t think I have my own sources?” she asked, her lips twitching. “Good luck. And reach out when you get back. I look forward to that interview.”
The beamcast ended, and Skorn shot Ero a hard look. “That woman is dangerous.”
“I think I’m in love,” Ero responded.
Skorn snorted in disbelief. “Let’s just get out of here before things get any worse.”
Ero activated the projection Gate and they jumped to hyperlight. The moment they were at cruising speed, Skorn went to the comms relay at the rear of the ship. Their three allies had been poised to ratify Skorn’s new House, and now they had suffered a tremendous blow. Ero hoped his brother could convince them that they’d had nothing to do with Dragorn’s escape—a hard idea to sell, seeing as House Bright’Lor appeared to gain a great deal with his release.
As Ero flew them towards the delta quadrant, he brought up the vid channels. The holos washed acros
s the bridge, a never-ending stream covering Dragorn’s escape and the tactical failure by Supremacy Relic. Some were even calling for his resignation, although that was highly unlikely.
The Empire was in an uproar, as much because of Mylttium’s shutdown as the actual escape. Transport had been halted, Gates shut down, and hundreds of ships detained. Many royals were demanding the lockdown be ended, claiming that Dragorn’s House was worth less than nothing, so the reaction was excessive. In contrast, others were incensed that the Rangers had failed and demanded the law be changed so the ten-day deadline would be abolished.
It likely would be. It dated back to when the Krey Empire had been religious, and the creators of the law had thought that if a krey survived for ten days, the people were morally obligated to believe he was innocent because he was god-blessed. No one had bothered to change the law, and Ero would have found it funny, had it been anyone else.
“Skorn,” he called, “we’re approaching the rendezvous point.”
“On my way.”
Ero dropped them from hyperlight far enough away to scan the region. They were in deep space, outside general shipping lanes but close enough to Mylttium to make it a short flight. A single ship waited for them, a small vessel just larger than the Blue Iris. Skorn returned and took his seat.
“How are our allies?” Ero asked.
“They think we betrayed them,” Skorn said.
“Wouldn’t you?”
Skorn tapped the sensors and scanned again. “Probably. The ship doesn’t have any House identification, so it’s probably Dragorn’s.”
“Where’s Visika?”
“We’re early,” Skorn said. “There are a few pings on long-range sensors. She’s probably doing what we’re doing and seeing who shows up.”
“You want to wait?” Ero gave his brother a sideways look.
“No,” Skorn said. “If we can get there first, we can kill him or destroy the ship so there is no evidence.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Ero accelerated towards the small ship, which didn’t move as they approached. A tactical scan revealed heavy shielding, making an attack in space unlikely to be successful. As they slowed along an intersecting vector, Skorn opened a compartment and withdrew a plasma pistol, which he then strapped to his thigh. Ero checked his energy blade and stood.