Rise of Renegades, page 26
“They’re very different,” she said. “The coding and controls vary according to which House built the class of starship.”
“Starship classes are proposed by the Houses to the Empire,” he said. “When approved, the House is permitted to manufacture and sell freely. New starships are always in development, so over time old classes are naturally retired. The Gerlon hasn’t been in production for ages.”
“You know quite a bit about the Gerlon class.”
“Most of the criminals I hunted for the Empire favored older ships.” Reklin shrugged. “It was my job to understand their abilities, if not how to build or pilot them.”
Siena studied Reklin as they talked. She’d always been afraid of dakorians, as much for their fearsome bone armor as their brutal natures. But Reklin was not like the dakorians she’d known in House Zeltil’Dor. His eyes were gray, and at times, almost kind. He was patient and intelligent.
“Why are you with House Bright’Lor?” she asked after the conversation veered away from piloting.
He didn’t answer for a moment, and then shrugged. “I was hornless and in the Bone Crucible. They offered to buy my contract, and I thought it better than spilling my blood for the pleasure of krey.”
She winced when a pressure formed in her skull. The pain was brief, and followed with a ringing in her ears. Then it was gone, leaving a strange echo, as if her skull had just grown several sizes and her thoughts had too much room.
…And I had orders to infiltrate House Bright’Lor.
Startled, she asked, “You were ordered to infiltrate Bright’Lor?”
Reklin slowly put down his glass of drey, his expression suddenly much more forbidding. “Why would you ask that?”
“You said it,” she said defensively.
“No,” he said quietly, “I did not.”
“Then why did I hear it?”
Is she manifesting a new augment?
This time Siena understood. The words were in Reklin’s voice, but came from his mind. She swallowed in sudden fear. Had she really gained another augment? How many was she going to get? And what did it mean?
“Did you hear about my fight with the drake queen?” Reklin asked.
Terrified, she simply nodded.
Reklin held her gaze. “She and the other drakes had a form of telepathy, allowing them to reach into our minds to speak. They implied that it was harder to do when someone protected their consciousness.”
“A beast talking to a dakorian through their thoughts?” She forced a laugh. “That sounds absurd.”
“It does,” Reklin agreed. “And yet when I consider that day, there was an odd opening in my brain, like a door had been opened. It seems that door has been opened again, but this time I don’t see any drakes.”
“I’m sorry.” She stood and hurried to the door, dumping her tray into the refuse chute. But as the door opened, Reklin called out to her.
“Siena,” he said, his quiet voice bringing her to a halt, “did you just hear my thoughts?”
He already knew the truth, so she squared her shoulders and faced the dakorian soldier. “I didn’t mean to.”
To Siena’s surprise, Reklin chuckled. “Skorn is right to fear you.”
“Because of the augments?”
Reklin shook his head. “We both know your augments are different than the others. And if I had to guess, I think you’ve unlocked a wider range of powers than you realize. I’ve seen Telik’s data. You had more genetic abnormalities than the rest, and his experiment bombards a variety of energies to genetic abnormalities.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying you have them all.” He rotated in his large chair. “Or that you’re, as Kensen calls you, a supreme augment. An accurate description, I think.”
“How did you know that’s what he calls me?”
“Dakorians have excellent hearing,” he said. “And Kensen is a loud talker.”
He did not seem angry or about to draw his sunderblade, so she took a step back into the room. “How could I have all of them?”
Reklin swept his hand at the Nova. “The krey harness energy with their technology. Augmented humans control the same energy but with biosynthetic control. In short, your very body becomes a conduit for outside energies.”
“But listening to minds?”
“Why not?” he asked. “The brain is just energy. The military has been trying for years to create a bone cortex that will allow soldiers to hear the thoughts of criminals.”
“And you think I can do it?”
Can’t you?
She winced as his thoughts pieced her own. “But why now? It’s been months since the experiment.”
“From what I can tell, your augmentations were unlocked by Telik, but each requires certain circumstances in order for them to initially manifest. But discovering them is only the first step to self-mastery.”
A burst of ideas, thoughts, and images bombarded her mind. The painful torrent battered against her skull, causing her to suck in her breath. She dropped to the floor and put her hands to her ears, but the attack did not come from outside. It seemed to pierce her thoughts and overwhelm her senses, exploding into her vision.
She saw Reklin standing next to a female dakorian—a sister, judging by the similar looks. They were hunting a creature with six legs through a forest of bright orange leaves. Then another image, one of an older dakorian smiling at a young Reklin, who held his first sunderblade.
“Stop,” she blurted. “Whatever you’re doing, just stop.” The mental assault subsided, leaving a throbbing ache.
You are not prepared for what you possess.
The words cut deep into her senses, like a knife inside her skull. He rose and drew his sunderblade, putting the tip on the floor. She scooted backwards until she hit the cold seracrete, but the spark of fear was unnecessary.
“I received my first sunderblade from my father, and he’s the one that taught me to fight. I learned to control my talents through labor and mental discipline.”
“I was raised without my parents and spent my time scrubbing floors and being tortured.”
“You missed the point,” he said, and spun the weapon in his grip. “If you want to control your augments, you’re going to have to learn how to control your body. It’s the only way I know for you to learn the mental strength required.”
“Why would you help me?”
“Dakorian clans are divided into large families,” Reklin said. “Mine is the Duveq. If we don’t have a Bloodwall within the next decade, my family will be removed from the clan.”
“Why?”
“There’s no room in the clan for those who don’t contribute,” he said. “My family has several currently serving in the military, but none have the talent I possess. If I do not become a Bloodwall, my family will be scattered among the rest of the clan for our failure to produce warriors of sufficient caliber.”
An image came to her thoughts: A dakorian telling Reklin to cut his horns, to infiltrate House Bright’Lor. It was fleeting, just a glimpse, and Siena sensed he had not shared it intentionally.
“You gave up your horns to be a Bloodwall.”
Reklin ‘s expression was distant, and he didn’t seem to care that she’d plucked it from his mind. “Malikin is a krey who is hunting House Bright’Lor for the Emperor. He promised that after Bright’Lor was destroyed, I would be a Bloodwall. It was a promise I could not refuse. Skorn showed me the truth. Malikin intends to erase the blue-eyed House—and everyone in it.”
He used his sunderblade to point at her. “The only way I can become a Bloodwall now is if you learn to control your augments before it kills you. Then Bright’Lor gains enough glint through selling augmented humans to pay for my rank advancement.”
“That’s how you save your family,” she said.
He lowered the blade and sheathed it on his back. “Are you sure you can land the Nova on Rebor?”
She hesitated, and then nodded. “Yes.”
“Then let’s get to work.”
It seemed odd to Siena that she would be willing to work with Reklin to be a better augment—so she would have more value as a slave, no less. But her augments were already difficult to control, and it seemed a new one appeared around every corner. She needed help. Reklin was a dakorian trained to the pinnacle of discipline. Whatever his reasons, she had no choice but to accept.
Siena thought Reklin would start her in the holochamber, the same location Ero had asked her to begin. Instead, he took her to the cargo bay on deck two. Everything had been offloaded on Lumineia, so the space was mostly empty.
“Combat is all about control,” Reklin said. “Control the body. Control the mind. The environment can be influenced, others make their own choices, but the only thing you can really control is yourself.”
He began to demonstrate a variety of movements, each slow and deliberate. She tried to follow, and did a passable job of mimicking his technique. Most of what she’d learned she’d acquired in the holochamber, or from Ero, who knew how to wield an energy blade, but not much else.
Throughout the rest of the day Siena got the feeling Reklin was hesitant to train her. He felt it was required, but he did not like the idea of teaching a human girl—especially one with powerful augmentations—to be a warrior. But after Siena’s experience fighting Poshikelli’s Bloodwall, she knew she had an enormous amount to improve.
As the days passed, she realized Reklin was just as patient as she’d thought. He was strict and rigid in his requirements, even changing what food she got to eat, but he was not overly critical or cruel. He took the snippets of combat that she’d learned and improved upon them, using her talent as a foundation for true fighting ability.
“Have you ever trained a human to fight?” she asked at one point.
“I never thought a human deserved to learn,” he replied.
The subtle compliment came as a surprise, and more than once Siena marveled at how much her life had changed since the day she’d dumped a bag of roak entrails on Laurik’s head. Reklin, too, seemed to sense the weight to his actions, and was more somber than normal.
Siena rose early, and labored each day to the point of exhaustion. Reklin pushed her with unrelenting force, and more than once Siena had to heal her own wounds just to continue. She regretted throwing Ero’s offered energy blade into the ocean.
Reklin’s voice taught her how to fight, and pain taught her how she’d failed. Combat without weapons dominated their first few days, and Reklin only permitted her to use her body augment. With strength active, she was as strong as he was, and able to block his fist or boot.
“Switch for speed,” he barked.
She dropped strength in favor of speed, the transition gradually coming faster. Midair from a jump, she landed and kicked off the bulkhead, spinning around to Reklin’s flank. Her movement was four times a normal human, Reklin had confirmed it, and even faster than a dakorian.
“Agility.”
Reklin whirled and swung his bony fists in a flurry of strikes that would crush her ribcage if they landed. She dropped speed and switched to agility, her balance heightening in an instant. She ducked and twisted before jumping into a flip that carried her over his swinging arm. Her heart soared with her, and when she landed she switched back to strength and leaned into a blow.
Reklin’s hand landed first. He struck her in the side of the head with his open palm, knocking her skidding across the deck floor. Her sweaty body squeaked to a halt. Dizzy, she managed to sit up.
“Why did I hit you?” he asked.
“You saw where I was going to land?” She rubbed her cheek.
“When you are in the air, you should have dropped agility and heightened your eyesight and hearing. Your back was to me, and you didn’t see me switch direction. It’s essential that you learn to alternate between your body augments so quickly it seems like they are all active simultaneously.”
She tried again, and did better. With each new victory, she felt a renewed sense of purpose. The body augment was not the first she’d manifested, but it was quickly becoming the first she could control.
The trainings consumed their time, and Reklin occasionally had her test her other augments. They varied wildly. Some, like gravity manipulation, came naturally. Others, such as heat, were much more difficult. She began to realize that mastering all the augments would require a lifetime.
At one point Reklin winced and retreated to examine his hand, where she’d landed a blow. “You’re stronger than the first time I tested you,” he said.
“You mean when you thought I was just a normal slave?” she asked with a grin.
“You aren’t just gaining control over your body augment. It’s also increasing the impact on your bones, muscles, and tendons. Your body is adapting.”
“How can you tell?”
“Because that’s the first time you hurt me,” Reklin said.
“Really?”
He frowned. “Don’t sound so excited.”
She flushed. “Sorry. I guess I never thought I would be as strong as a dakorian.”
“I never thought I would be as weak as a human.”
She laughed, and recognized the tentative bond being formed. Was it possible for her to be friends with a dakorian? She wanted to dismiss the prospect as absurd, but was it that different from being friends with Ero?
The combat training quickly evolved, and he pushed her to use multiple augmentations in each fight. She rotated between gravity, body, fire, light, and water, using each in rapid succession.
Her efforts were raw and unfocused, and as much as she felt she improved, she doubted she was ever truly a threat to the soldier. It wasn’t until one day, as she was laying on the floor for the hundredth time, that she realized the truth. She groaned as she sat up.
“You’re learning how to fight an augment, aren’t you?”
Amusement flitted across his features. “You’re just figuring that out now?”
She pulled herself to her feet. “You’re using me.”
“Teaching always goes both ways,” he said. “Just look at you and Ero. He taught you to fly and fight. But you taught him how to make a friend.”
Siena didn’t like the idea that she was helping Reklin learn how to fight—and beat—an augment. He would use the information to train the other soldiers, making them much more efficient at keeping the slaves under control.
“It’s easy to forget who we are in deep space,” Reklin said, motioning to the cargo bay window, where stars streaked by. “But you are still a slave, and I am still a soldier. Do not make the mistake of thinking we are friends. I am not Ero. Now gather yourself and attack again.”
Siena did, but from then on she held back. Reklin gave no indication that he noticed the change, but she doubted she had him fooled. Reklin had proven himself to be both intelligent and talented. And after the first day, she never again heard his thoughts unless he allowed it.
Despite his words, she still felt a kinship. He did not inflict pain for the sake of pain, or to punish. Instead he consistently offered encouragement and gave her time to heal when she was wounded. She decided she could not trust him. She would never mention her future augments.
Three weeks after departing Lumineia, the Nova entered the Selena system, and the autopilot opened a single projection Gate just ahead of their bow. The portal opened and they dropped from hyperlight, entering normal space.
Siena drew in a calming breath and then disengaged the autopilot before banking them towards the second planet from the sun. Feeling more confident than ever, Siena leaned forward in the pilot’s chair and reached for the controls.
“Ready?” she asked.
“Why ask me?” Reklin stood behind her, a faint smile on his face. “You’re in that chair, you’re the captain.”
She shuddered at that idea, and fleetingly wondered if this had been Ero’s intent when he’d sent her with Reklin. If he’d hoped she would forgive him, how could she not? He might be krey, but he’d given her what no one ever had.
Freedom.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Reklin gripped the bulkhead as Siena took control of the Nova and bank the vessel towards the surface of the planet. As he watched their descent, he wondered when his life had turned from being a venerated captain to an outcast trusting a slave to pilot a ship.
“Rebor maintains strict approaches,” Reklin said. “Follow the orbital buoys to the islands on the southern hemisphere. And be careful.”
“Are you nervous?” she asked.
“Wouldn’t you be?”
She grunted in irritation. “Taking us in.”
The planet was more land mass than water, the ground covered with jungles and forests. Giant mountains climbed so high the air would not support a life form, and the two oceans ran just as deep. On the southern ocean was a series of islands called the Rodendum—his home. He directed her to it. Aside from a few bumps and too-tight turns, where the gravity dampeners could not quite compensate, Siena flew as well as any krey pilot.
His eyes were on the forward window, but his thoughts remained on Siena. He had not been entirely truthful when he’d offered to train the girl. And as he’d trained her, he’d also subtly tested her mind.
He’d learned that her ability to hear his mind could be blocked. A disciplined mind was enough to prevent Siena from hearing his thoughts, and she could not breach his consciousness unless he allowed it. A small comfort.
Skorn would probably not approve of Reklin teaching the defiant girl even more about combat, but it was the only way Reklin knew to both teach her control, and ensure he could maintain superiority. His worst fear was that the girl would be able to surprise him or his soldiers before they could create security measures to prevent a rebellion.
What Reklin had not been prepared for was how much he enjoyed sparring with Siena. The girl was clever, inventive, and highly disciplined. She’d absorbed months of dakorian training in just a couple of weeks, demonstrating a keen ability for combat. At the same time, she was not inclined towards cruelty or arrogance. She wanted to fight, yes, but not to destroy the krey. She just wanted her freedom. He would have to keep a firmer control on his behavior to prevent Siena from thinking him an ally. The distance would help if it fell upon him to terminate her life, a distinct possibility.
