Rise of Renegades, page 38
“What just happened?” Siena asked.
“I think my mother just adopted you,” Reklin said, equally as amused.
They shared a laugh, and then finished the meal together. Mora stayed by Siena’s side the entire time, speaking nonstop about what Siena had missed. By the time she was finally full, Siena came to understand that here on Rebor, she’d finally gotten a taste of home.
The feeling persisted over the next few days as Reklin convinced a number of his family to sign the contract with House Bright’Lor. Skorn had promised to turn Reklin into a Bloodwall, which would effectively end the threat against his family. Recognizing that their family’s survival was linked to the survival of House Bright’Lor, anyone that could had joined their ranks, and beamcast messages were sent to Duveq members currently serving in the military. As soon as Bright’Lor acquired slaves, the members of Reklin’s family would join the House.
Siena relished every moment of her recovery. The dakorians did not understand what she’d done for Reklin, but they obviously assumed she possessed some sort of embedded mech. They had no idea about the augments, and Reklin was not going to tell them until they arrived on Lumineia.
Siena ate and slept a great deal, so by the time she and Reklin were ready to depart, she felt whole again. Many of the family, including hundreds that had come from other villages to witness the Crucible of Sovereignty, joined Reklin and Siena as they returned to the Nova. Mora tried multiple times to sneak aboard, much to Inary’s consternation and Siena’s amusement.
Dozens spoke to Reklin, but Siena earned a few personal farewells from Kevent, Inary, and surprisingly Lavana, who gave her a back-buckling package of roasted meat. Struggling to stay upright, Siena managed to express her gratitude and dropped the crate in the airlock. Mora escaped and raced up to Siena, engulfing her in a hug.
“Seena come back?” she wailed.
“Mora,” Inary growled, “dakorians do not cry.”
“I promise,” Siena whispered.
Mora brightened and finally allowed Inary to drag her back. Siena picked up the crate by activating her augment and they closed the airlock. She nodded to Reklin, who looked much better with only a few bandages left.
“Ready to get us off the ground?” Reklin asked.
“Let’s hope I can remember how to fly,” she said.
“I trust you.”
Siena hefted the food crate and dropped it in a storage compartment before making her way to the ascender to deck two. From there she went to the bridge and claimed the captain’s chair. Reklin entered a moment later and stood behind the copilot’s seat.
After a moment’s hesitation, she began activating the ship by bringing the gravity drive online. A hum went through the ship as the gravity energy was converted to light and seeped through the ship’s extremities.
“You never told me about your augment,” Siena said as she gradually put power into the thrusters, pushing them off the landing pad and into the air. They lifted free of the canyon and she retracted the landing gear.
“You don’t already know?”
“I just know it has to do with memory.” She spared him a glance as she banked them upward and continued their acceleration.
“I can remember every moment of my life,” he said. “Even when I was a child.”
“How clearly?”
“Clear enough to count the stray hairs on my father’s chin—when he held me as an infant.”
She raised an eyebrow. “So how did you use memory to beat Olgor?”
It was the first time they’d been in private since she’d awakened, and she hadn’t wanted to risk the other members of the Duveq family hearing them talk about Reklin’s augmentation, especially since the Heart Oath. Reklin leaned against the chair, the metal creaking under his weight.
“When I grabbed his horn, I was able to connect to his memories.”
“That’s why you hit his leg,” she guessed.
“I saw it was weak from a break earlier in his life. It wasn’t something anyone would know.”
“I knew you had to fight in the dark,” she said. “And although the augment gave you an advantage. I couldn’t discern anything else. The future is dependent on too many choices, and the more choices, the more blurry.”
“The storm saved my life first,” he said. “Your timing was perfect.”
As Siena pushed the Nova out of Rebor’s atmosphere and pointed them back to Lumineia, she couldn’t help but regret the departure. Returning to House Bright’Lor would alter their friendship, and as tenuous as it was, she was uncertain if it could endure.
The Nova rose above the atmosphere, the air turning from blue to black as they reached orbit. Siena made sure to pull them out of the planet’s gravity well before preparing the projection Gate, which would take them to hyperlight.
Nothing happened.
She frowned and tried again to spin up the projection Gate, but the cortex failed to sync with the Gate emitter. She knew enough to pilot the Nova, but not much about making a repair. Suppressing the burgeoning worry, she activated a diagnostic, which brought up a holo that showed the error.
“What’s wrong?” Reklin asked.
“The projection Gate failed to come online,” she said.
He leaned over to read the holo and scowled. “That’s not an accident.”
“How can you tell?”
He was on his feet. “That error says it’s been disabled, not broken. That means someone purposefully disconnected the projection Gate.”
“Who would do that?”
Reklin ‘s brow furrowed and he seemed to stare into the distance. His scowl deepened. “There was a dakorian in the village that wasn’t a member of my family.”
“When?”
“The day after the duel,” he said. “Lavana insisted I go outside, and I caught a glimpse of him beyond the village. Now that I remember, he had brown horns with a spiral of gray.”
“You sound like you know him.” She was pleased he was using his memory augment again. If he recognized it as a weapon, he might not blame Siena for what she’d done.
“I only saw his back,” Reklin said, “but it looks a lot like Gellow, my former captain. But that’s impossible. Last I knew he’d been on Korgith Station.”
The name sounded familiar to Siena until she remembered they had stopped there before going to Lumineia. It was the same station where an old friend of Reklin’s had tried to kill him, and Siena had used her augments to save him.
“I don’t understand,” she said. “Why would it be impossible for him to be here?”
“Because within hours of our leaving the station, it was destroyed. No survivors were reported.”
Siena swiveled in her chair, disliking the sense of foreboding in her gut. “That doesn’t sound like a coincidence.”
“I sent a message to Gellow after we left the station,” Reklin said. “I didn’t like how things ended, and I was worried he might come after us. But there was no response from the station at all. Within an hour the Empire launched an investigation, and the vids described a vicious attack by raiders.”
“But you don’t think it was raiders.”
Reklin scratched one of his new scars. “From what I saw of the Kildor, I think it was Malikin. He was already hunting Ero, and he would have destroyed the station to keep evidence from leaking about augments.”
It took a moment for that to settle in, and then Siena sucked in a breath. “Malikin killed them because of me, because there were vids of me using my augments.”
“I doubt they had any proof,” Reklin said. “Gellow would have erased any evidence of his failure.”
“But how many died because I was just there?” Fear and anger pulled her to her feet. “What about your family? They saw me heal you.”
“And they think you used a mech,” Reklin said. “They won’t come for my family.”
“But you think Gellow came here,” she said, facing him. “Why would he come to Rebor?”
“Gellow isn’t with Malikin,” Reklin said, “but if he came here, he came for a reason. He may be greedy, but he’s very tactical. He doesn’t act without a reason.”
“Then why?” she demanded. “And how did he know you were even here?”
“If it was him,” Reklin wondered, “then he arrived after we did. That means he came because of me.”
“Or me,” she countered.
He held her gaze. “That is a possibility.”
“But why? Why would he come at all?”
“I don’t know,” Reklin said, “but I guarantee he’s a threat. We need to get out of the system before someone shows up.”
The ship beeped and Siena gave the controls enough attention to verify it was just querying why she had not input coordinates. Not knowing what to do, she put the Nova into orbit, and the ship accelerated to curve around the planet. Then she noticed a new warning on the navigation holo.
In the corner of the panel, a small holo showed other ships around the Nova. In deep space there was nothing close enough to track, but in orbit around Rebor there were dozens of ships. Mostly Thevvin- or Beldoria-class ships, the favored ships the clan used for transport. Now there was a new vessel, and the error showed no classification.
“What’s that?” she asked.
Reklin read the error and his features darkened. “Go! Get us back down to the planet.”
“Why?” She yanked on the controls and pushed them into the atmosphere, accelerating to maximum speed.
“There’s only two reasons a ship cannot be identified,” Reklin said. “Either it’s a secret Empire ship—”
“Like the Kildor,” Siena said.
Reklin nodded. “Or it’s a ship built by a criminal organization. They’re usually built in dozens of shapes and sizes. Don’t let it get close to us.”
“I can’t go any faster,” she said, watching helplessly as the nav holo showed their pursuer gaining—fast.
Siena had never been in a space battle, and the fear was sudden and sharp. Would they disable their shields? Vent them into space? The prospect of dying in vacuum sent a shudder through her bones.
“We should use the Gate,” Reklin said, rising to his feet and speaking in a rush. “Send a message to the neighboring vessels. See if they’ll let us—”
The Nova shuddered, and dozens of warning lights appeared. Siena struggled to read them all. They were caught in a gravity leash powerful enough to counteract their systems. It was sapping the gravity drive’s power, and there were warnings about the strain on the hull.
“I don’t understand this last warning,” Siena said.
“That’s a Gate clamp.” Reklin drew his sunderblade and stepped into the hall. “It means they’d severed our network. No beamcasts in or out.”
Siena rose to her feet and joined Reklin as he sprinted to the airlock. She took comfort in the fact they apparently wanted to capture them, and activated her strength augment. She sorely regretted throwing Ero’s offered energy blade into the ocean.
The airlock trembled as it was attached to another ship, and Reklin and Siena skidded to a stop. They exchanged a look and nodded in unison. He spun his sunderblade and bared his teeth in a snarl. The airlock began to open—and came to a jarring halt. A small orb was tossed through, and it bounced towards Reklin and Siena.
She squinted at the orb. “What’s tha—”
Reklin grabbed her by the back of the neck and tossed her down the hallway as the ball detonated, spilling a white gas into the Nova. She sucked in a breath—and everything went dark.
Chapter Forty-One
The numbing gas, commonly called Erkon-6 by the military, passed over Reklin. He’d stopped his breathing the moment the explosive has come through the Gate, but Siena’s surprise had made her suck in a lungful of air. She was already unconscious.
Reklin had trained with Erkon-6 on numerous occasions and knew its effects. He scrambled for a medkit in a nearby emergency panel and fumbled to find a counteragent. His hearts stuttered, his brain clamoring for air. The yearning to breathe mounted by the second, clawing at the back of his throat and grasping at his brain.
Reklin found a needle for synthetic adrenaline. Without hesitation he stabbed Siena in the back and pushed the liquid into her body. Then he replaced the medkit and shut the hatch. The chemical wouldn’t stop Erkon-6, but it would shorten the duration. Hopefully it worked on an augmented human. He then lay on his stomach, feigning unconsciousness. Still holding his breath, he counted every heartbeat, forcing himself to wait until Erkon-6 disintegrated—precisely at three minutes.
After oxygen had thoroughly crumbled the gas, Reklin suck in a lungful of air. Dizziness assailed him and he gasped for breath. He stayed on the deck, his eyes shut. Seconds later numerous dakorians entered the Nova, accompanied by an assortment of krey. Reklin identified them by the sounds of their feet, counting their numbers. If they possessed an Erkon-6 det, they had glint to spare. Such chemical explosives were not cheap. He could have tried to fight, but it probably would have just gotten him and Siena both killed.
“Take his weapons,” a voice barked.
“What if he’s awake?” someone asked, and Reklin recognized the voice as Gellow. So he had been on the planet.
“I’ll make sure,” a third voice said.
He heard the shift in weight and braced himself. The boot struck him in the ribcage, hard enough to crack an outer bone. The pain spiked through him, a dagger to his flesh. Reklin did not respond.
“Get them to the Black Moon.”
“The human too?” a krey voice asked.
“If she’s what Gellow claims, she’s very valuable,” a new speaker said. “Clamp both their hands.”
The authority in her voice identified her as the leader, and Reklin risked peeking an eyelid as thick seracrete clamps were fastened to his wrists. He was on his side, so he caught a glimpse of the group before sets of rough hands grabbed his wrists and dragged him down the corridor and through the airlock. Another dakorian tossed Siena over her shoulder and followed.
He risked another look. Several had glowing red-and-orange tattoos on their left shoulders, the pattern marking them as the Burning Ghosts, the most feared criminal organization in the Empire. But he was shocked to recognize the one at the head of the group. It was the Butcher of Gorvan, the Destroyer of Junilia-4, the head of the Burning Ghosts herself. Visika Dregknot.
A former Bloodblade, the dakorian was infamous for killing two members of the Bone Council and disappearing with a group of soldiers from her clan. The Empire had been hunting her for ages, but the crafty woman had evaded every attempt at assassination. She now controlled an organization that rivaled some of the larger Houses.
Reklin had thought she would be taller. At just eight feet, Visika was short for a dakorian. As a Bloodblade, her flesh healed to perfection, so she used tattoos to mark her wounds. The black twisting lines showed where ion bolts had struck her chest and burned her legs, shoulders, even her head. Thick lines marked where sunderblades had cut through her armor, one directly over her upper heart. Another sliced across one eye and down her nose, curving across her cheek.
They dragged him down the corridor. He peeked again, enough to see the ship they’d boarded. He’d expected a misshapen collection of seracrete plating, cobbled together from scrap. But the deck was clean and orderly. The walls were white and curving, and the doors they passed were a distinct oval—a type he’d only ever seen on a Delvinoriq-class starship.
Military grade, the Delvinoriq was half the size of a Heltorgreathian capital ship, but near its equal in firepower. Thirty-six had been built, and all possessed spines across the upper hull, making it look like a predator. Half had been destroyed over the years, but there were still plenty in service.
Unique to the Delvinoriq was a disjointed hull. The spine across the top was attached to the barrel of a large plasma cannon. To either side, two narrow hulls resembled giant wings, each with forty-seven decks. A gravity clamp bound them to the upper cannon and the belly of the ship, which was one giant hangar with a capacity for three hundred Ro fighters and forty-two Grun bombers.
The final section of the ship was nestled beneath the giant plasma cannon and above the hangar bay. The slender command sphere connected to the four outer sections by thick gravity clamps, powered by an independent gravity sphere inside the command deck. If necessary, the ship could detach damaged sections of the ship and continue to fight. Both of the side hulls had a complement of sixty-seven lance turrets.
Reklin was shocked the Burning Ghosts had such a ship. As he was dragged across the floor, Reklin sneaked another peek at Visika. Her head was shaven, showing her five impressive horns. All curved upward away from her head like a crown. Reklin had heard she filed them down every month—a painful process, but one that made her look both intimidating and regal.
“You can stop pretending to be unconscious,” Visika said. “I know you’re awake.”
Reklin, his back scraping on the cold seracrete deck, considered continuing his ruse. But since it was obvious she knew, he opened his eyes to find her looking down on him. Dressed in dark blue pants, a vest that showed her shoulders, and a black cloak, she was more beautiful than Reklin had expected. She smiled faintly.
“Reklin of clan Hammerdin,” she said. “You look broken.”
“You should see Olgor,” he replied.
She chuckled and motioned to the ones dragging him. “On his feet,” she ordered.
The two pulled on the clamp, yanking the tender wounds on Reklin’s chest. He grimaced and stumbled to his feet. Visika walked at his side, apparently unconcerned that he could strike at her flank. Behind her, Gellow smirked.
“Captain Reklin,” he said. “How does it feel to fall as far as me?”
“I’ll let you know when I hit bottom.”
Gellow growled and reached for his hammer lance, but Visika waved in dismissal. “Leave Reklin be. A Shard captain capable of staying conscious from an Erkon-6 detonator deserves respect, even if he is hornless.”
