The Relissarium Wars Omnibus

by Andrew C Broderick

  The wind buffeted him, and made him turn sharply to avoid being dashed against the tower. Almost to the top of the tower, Makram spotted Hojae climbing, very quickly. Another gust of wind threatened to blow the jetpack and its pilot off course. He was barely making any progress. With one determined swallow, Makram killed the engine.

  Seven

  The wind screamed in his ears. Makram clutched at the rungs as his body fell victim to the pull of gravity again. His heart jumped to his throat. Clinging to the rungs, he could feel the metal sway in the breeze. The hinges creaked under the force of the unrelenting gales. It made his stomach churn. Makram made the mistake of looking down. He was about halfway up the tower. Beneath him, waves crashed angrily.

  Makram closed his eyes, and summoned his inner strength. Deep inside of him was a well of calm, like the eye of a storm. Makram clung to it. He opened his eyes, and began his climb once more, with renewed vigor, hand over hand. He was a man spurred on by loss, and vengeance. There would be justice for his men, for the Brotherhood, for everyone the Yasta had brought down in cold blood.

  Makram heard a curse word from up above. One look up showed a laser gun plummeting towards him. Makram deftly caught the falling weapon, and tucked it into the waistband of his pants. Hojae had seen that he was being followed, and would clear the lip of the platform in a matter of seconds. Makram had to go faster. Much faster. He could feel the rungs rubbing blisters into his palm, but he fought through the pain. Overhead, an engine whirled to life. Hojae had made it to the mono-wacs docked above.

  Makram could almost reach the platform. He steadied himself, and lunged upwards and out, on a leap of faith. For a brief moment, he hung there, caught between life and death. He instinctively tuned into his inner calm again.

  Makram’s hand gripped the edge. The pressure blanched his fingers white. Makram heaved himself up, and swung his leg over, until he was able to wriggle onto the platform. Ripping the laser from his waistband, he took aim, and blasted the charging airwheel. The copter dropped back down to the platform. Black smoke billowed angrily from its midsection. Hojae roared with frustration, and pulled out a lasana blade. Makram took aim again. This time, he wasn’t pulling any punches. The laser’s scope lined up a deadly shot on Hojae’s chest. Somehow, the Josti blocked the shots with his blade, as though he already knew where they would land.

  “Is that the best you’ve got, Makram? There isn’t any practice sword here. There’s no helm to hide behind. Do you think you can take me? Even Theo smashed your head in when you tried to show him up in training, and he’s just a puppy!” Hojae tossed the blade back and forth between his top two hands, taunting Makram.

  Makram shoved the laser back into his waistband, and raised his sword. He wasn’t going to let Hojae get inside his head. “Are we going to talk, or are we going to fight?”

  “Do you know why you were chosen to be the next commander? It’s not because you were the best. It’s because you were the easiest to control. That’s why the Council chose you. You’re nothing but their little pawn. They send your team in like fodder for the fire, and you’re so high strung on the moral fictions they feed you that you don’t even bat an eye. You don’t think for yourself. That’s why you’re so perfect for them. I don’t want to kill you, Makram. You’re like a little flea, always jumping for the chance to die for your beliefs. It’s a sad existence really. On second thought, maybe I should put you out of your misery, huh? Just like I did for Yareck.”

  The last sentence was the final straw. Blind fury drove his blade upwards, to counter Hojae’s incoming swipe. The two traded blow after blow. Sparks flew when the lasana blades collided. The tower beneath them roiled and swayed in the wind. Their footwork was a deadly dance. Makram barely dodged an attack aimed at his knees. Hojae swapped hands, making Makram change tactics slightly. It was a move he had seen used before in training, but seeing it and going up against it were two different things. Makram managed to parry, but the move caused him to move closer to the edge than he would have liked. His balance faltered. Makram’s arms flailed over the sides trying to save himself, but it was no use.

  The second before he fell, Makram felt Hojae’s hands wrap around his wrists. He was fully aware that the only thing keeping him from falling was the Josti’s grip. “Why draw it out? Just kill me already!” Makram barked at his former friend.

  “Oh, did you think I was saving you?” Hojae laughed in his face. His grip on Makram’s sword hand tightened until the lasana blade clattered to the platform they were standing on. “Say hello to Yareck for me.” Hojae shoved Makram backwards with one, powerful thrust.

  Makram felt the world rush past him as he plummeted backwards off of the platform. In one fleetingly brilliant moment, his hand found the control for the jetpack. He dared not to hope, but by some miracle the engine sputtered to life. Guiding himself back toward the rungs on the tower, Makram once more grabbed on and began to climb.

  This time, when he reached the top, he saw Hojae’s puzzled expression as he leaned over the edge, twenty feet away, looking for Makram’s body. The Josti’s cackling laughter stopped as he heard the laser charge. Makram had pulled it from his waistband and once more aimed it at Hojae. The blast landed squarely between his shoulders. There was a sickening sizzle and burst of flame. Then Hojae fell over the edge.

  One slow step after another, Makram made his way to the edge of the tower. He watched as Hojae’s body was devoured by the crashing waves below. Orange blood billowed in swirling clouds, against the azure water.

  Makram’s knees collapsed underneath him. His shoulders shook with rage and relief as he finally allowed all the grief and stress inside of him to emerge in a howl of despair. A light rain dripped down from the sky and melted into the tears on his cheeks. It was done. The traitor was gone.

  Eight

  Theo stirred. Above him, bland lights bathed him in a slightly blue glow. He took a deep breath, and cursed as pain shot through his chest. Broken ribs. With a groan, he lifted his head and looked around. He appeared to be in some sort of bedroom, but the lack of color and the faint smell of antiseptic reminded him of the medical chambers back home.

  His eyes rested on a head of tousled hair resting on the edge of his bed. Cierra had fallen asleep in a chair beside him. Her arms formed a pillow on the side of his bed. Theo smiled softly to himself, and reached over to brush a few locks of hair out of her face. Even though his touch was light, her green eyes fluttered open. It took her a moment to realize where she was and what she was doing.

  “Hey.” She rubbed her eyes with her palms. “How are you feeling?”

  “Like hell.” Theo tried to sit up, but winced and laid back down.

  “Take it easy. You’ve been out for a few days.”

  “Days?!”

  Cierra grabbed a pouch of water and a straw. She punctured the pouch, and handed it over. “Drink this. It has some electrolytes and vitamins in it. It’ll help you feel better faster. Our ship crashed before we even made it to the base. They sent a recovery team to collect us, but most of us were hurt pretty bad. Kurga didn’t make it.”

  “Oh.” Theo appeared stunned, for a long moment. “Is everyone else okay?”

  “For the most part.” Cierra blushed, and scooted her chair away from him a little. She could feel his eyes checking her for any wounds. Her reaction made her feel silly. It was what any concerned teammate would do. It meant nothing. She cleared her throat, and continued filling him in. “They found the spy.”

  “Who was it?”

  “Hojae. Makram managed to beat him in a duel. He killed Hojae. The Council managed to find the body fairly quickly after the incident. Seneca was wanting to try a new technology that might be able to extract memories. From what Hubard told us, the technology is still very controversial, and they aren’t even sure if it will work on a subject that is technically braindead. They were going to let Seneca try with the spy, but since Makram got to him first, the doctor had to try to salvage what he coul
d from the remains. Hubard said it can only show the subject’s impressions of the facts, and should not be viewed as absolute truth. He was also concerned about how the tech would translate the memories of different species. I get the feeling that Seneca was developing it behind Hubard’s back.”

  “What is it? There’s something else, isn’t there?” Theo was getting better at being able to read Cierra’s facial expressions.

  She wasn’t sure if she was flattered or annoyed that he was able to pick up on her underlying hesitation. “Back on Relisse, right before the bomb went off, I thought I saw something. Hubard thinks it was just a trick of my mind, but I’m not so sure.”

  “Well, what do you think you saw?”

  “I…I think I saw the Yasta use the Relissarium as some sort of cloaking device. I know it sounds odd, but the more I think about it, the more I think that there is more to this new mineral than we know. It was like they were there one moment and gone the next. What if the Yasta have already found new applications that we haven’t discovered yet? What could we possibly be going up against now? I just…I don’t want to lose anyone else.”

  Her voice broke. Theo grabbed her arm and pulled her close to him. He wrapped one arm around her head and buried her face into his chest. The closeness made her feel safe, but she soon became aware of her heartbeat. It was racing. She told herself it was because she couldn’t breathe with her nose and mouth covered up like that. Cierra pushed away from him. At first, he resisted and held her even tighter. Theo realized that he may have taken too much of a liberty with his sister-in-law, and suddenly loosened his grip. The two avoided eye contact for a moment as Cierra sat back down in her seat. She was careful not to even touch his bed again. The room filled with a palpable silence.

  Trying to think of a new topic, Cierra’s mind flitted around for something—anything—to break the silence. “There was a survivor from the shelter on Sirsette.”

  Theo’s heart leapt into his throat. A survivor? “Who was—”

  She cut him off before he could even form the question. “It wasn’t Naia. Gyrra the pilot was the one that managed to escape.” Her chest ached as she saw his face fall.

  One of his hands reached up to touch the marriage medallion around his neck. A quick jerk snapped the cord that it hung on. The necklace hung limply in his closed fist. He couldn’t very well continue wearing his medallion when his body was filled with mourning for another woman. It wasn’t fair to Mari, and it wasn’t fair to Naia.

  “It seems like a lifetime ago, doesn’t it? Relisse…my life before the Brotherhood…It’s getting harder for me to remember what it was like to just be a farmer.” Theo shook his head as if to clear the cobwebs off of the memories of his old way of life.

  “Theo…”

  He chuckled dryly and put on a small smile. “I’m okay, really. It just struck me as an odd thought, that’s all. Why don’t you go ahead and get some real sleep? You don’t have to babysit me.”

  “I don’t mind. I really don’t want to leave you alone after everything that happened.”

  “No, really. Go get some sleep. You have to remember to take care of yourself, too, not just everyone else.”

  “Alright.” Cierra stood up and leaned over to give him a goodbye hug.

  Their cheeks rested against one another. Her breathing was short and shallow. She pulled away slowly until their noses brushed. For one tantalizing moment, their lips hovered only a breath apart. Cierra gave in and pressed her lips to his passionately. The kiss sent goosebumps along her skin.

  Suddenly, her eyes flew open. Cierra pulled back and clamped her hands over her mouth as if she couldn’t believe what she had just done. She backed quickly away from his bed. Turning on her heels, she fled the room without a word. Theo watched her go, stunned at what had just happened. His stomach was in knots. Two of his fingers reached up to touch his bottom lip. It was still slightly wet from her kiss. She had left him breathless. Theo let out a long, slow breath, as he tried to process what had just happened.

  A rap of knuckles on his door interrupted his thoughts. Maybe Cierra had come back to talk about what had just happened. He prepared himself to apologize for the kiss, but stopped short when he saw a man enter the room. Senator Philo closed the door after him, sealing them both inside.

  “Good. You’re awake. I was hoping you would be.”

  “Do I know you?” The man looked familiar, but Theo couldn’t quite place where he had seen him before.

  “I’m Senator Philo.”

  “Oh!” No wonder he had looked familiar. Theo had seen him a few times on broadcasts when he was enlisted with the Carristoux Regional Militia. It was odd seeing a government man outside of the typical robes that separated them from the general public. The Senator was clad in the plain jumpsuit that Theo had learned to associate with the Brotherhood.

  “Can you stand? You’ve been bedridden for quite some time. It may do your muscles good if you stand up and stretch some.”

  Theo swung his legs over the edge of the bed. It had only been a few days, but his limbs were already shaky. He walked over to the far wall where Philo stood. Fantastical sea beasts swam past the thick window. Some of them were creatures Theo had only heard about in stories. They were so far beneath the surface that some of them glowed dimly in the depths of the ocean. The swirling patterns of their bodies was similar to a dance or the way Theo’s wheat fields had once swayed in the breeze on Relisse.

  “I have no reservations now of telling you that I initially thought you were the spy.” Philo’s voice was matter of fact. “You were with Makram’s group when Yareck was killed, and you were with them on the last two ground missions that were sabotaged. Not only that, but from what I heard, you were perhaps a little too friendly with Naia. After you left Sirsette, that shelter was also destroyed. If you had been awake when you arrived here, you would have been—skillfully—interrogated. Needless to say, things were not looking well for you, Theo Jaiteoux.”

  “Well, then I’m glad you had a change of heart.”

  “Change of heart had nothing to do with it. If the Josti had not been exposed, things would have gone quite differently.” Philo paused momentarily. “Tell me, what exactly did you and Naia talk about?”

  “I don’t see how that is relevant anymore.”

  Philo didn’t turn to face him, but Theo could see a cloud of anger pass over his face in the reflection of the window. “I will decide what is relevant.”

  Theo chose his next words carefully. He didn’t want to sully Naia’s memory, and he didn’t want to give the senator any more reason to hold a grudge against him. “We mostly just talked about how she could communicate with the trees. Our conversations didn’t have much to do with the mission.”

  “I find it odd that a new recruit would choose to talk to a shelter leader about conversations with trees.”

  “Maybe that’s the problem.” Theo felt bitterness building up inside. “You only see recruits and members, instead of people. Whatever Hojae may have been, Naia was loyal to the cause and the Brotherhood until the end.”

  The senator grunted in discontent. “You speak so highly of a woman you barely knew, when Cierra was the one who never left your bedside. Perhaps you should examine your own perceptions of people before you call out others on theirs.”

  Theo paused for a moment to consider this. He had noticed that she was attractive before, but Cierra had always been…off limits. To distract himself, Theo asked some of the questions that had been burning at the back of his mind. “Now that we know the traitor was Hojae, what is the Brotherhood doing to take actions against possible threats? Surely none of the bases are safe now. Hojae would have been able to tell the Yasta all of the Brotherhood’s current plans and locations. Whatever you had in the works, you might as well scrap it all now.”

  Philo sighed. “Unfortunately, that does appear to be the case.”

  “Well? What are you going to do about it?”

  “What would you sugges
t? If you’re so gung-ho to trash all of our efforts—years of work put together by hundreds of agents, mind you—then what do you suggest we do once all of our networks are destroyed?”

  “I say we do something they won’t expect. We need to infiltrate the Yasta.”

  Nine

  “Ha!” Philo chuckled at the outrageousness of the idea. Then, his smile fell as he caught Theo’s expression. “Oh, you were being serious.”

  “Yes, I was being serious.”

  “Do you know how much risk that would put our members at?”

  Theo turned away from the window, where the sea life was still swimming past. “Members are already dying every day. Yareck, Naia, the recruits at Sirsette, and Kurga are all proof of that. The people in the Brotherhood are prepared to die for the cause. Why not at least put them in a position where if they do die, they can make a bigger impact?”

  “You’re proposing that we gamble with people’s lives.”

  “No.” Theo was unbudgingly firm. “You’re already gambling with people’s lives. I’m suggesting that you make their gamble worthwhile. Think about it. How long will it take you to set up new shelters and bases on every planet, every moon? Months? Years? By the time you get back to even a fraction of your current operating power, the Yasta will be so far ahead of us in technological advances that we won’t stand a chance. If we are going strike, we need to strike hard and fast.”

  “So, you want us to delay rebuilding in order to place people inside the monasteries?”

  “Why not? It worked for them. Look at all the damage one spy did to the Brotherhood? Even if we only had a few people on the inside, it could give us an edge. We could synchronize an attack and take out their leaders. If you cut off the head of the solar snake, its body stops working.”