She’s mine? He still couldn’t believe his luck.
“Not going all bashful on me, are you sweetie?”
Tris looked down and realised he was still fully clothed. It took him a few seconds to wriggle out of the cheap black jumpsuit, though with considerably more awkwardness and flailing than he’d have liked.
And then she was on him, draping her nakedness atop him with a tiny sigh.
He stared into her eyes, his breath coming in gasps. “I had a dream about you,” he confessed, as she planted kisses on his chest, working her way down his body.
“Oh?” she sounded intrigued. “Go on.”
“It was… while I was in the tower.” He swallowed as her lips found a tender area. “I had a bunch of them, but one was so vivid I swear you were right there with me.”
“Mmmm,” she agreed, biting the skin near his hip. “With you like I am now?”
“Yeah!” He drew in a shuddering breath. “You were floating above me and then you…” He licked his lips. “It kept me going, you know? The thought that I might… see you again.”
“And you did,” she said, sliding her body back up his, bringing them face to face again.
“It… was just a dream, wasn’t it?”
She chuckled, then kissed him long and deep. “Sweetie, the Tower of Justice is one of the most secure facilities in the galaxy. I’d love to have come and visited you, but…?” She shrugged one freckled shoulder. She kissed him again, then set her teeth in his ear lobe, pulling gently. Tris gasped, the pleasure already so intense it was all he could think about.
“But you know,” she whispered, “yellow really is your colour.”
“Eh? Wha—?”
And then she she slid herself onto him, and all questions fled his mind.
* * *
The news of Àurea’s awakening was broadcast throughout the ship.
Tris rushed to get dressed, slightly paranoid that the others would be mad at him for having sex while they were dealing with matters of galactic importance.
Then again, as he watched Ella slide smoothly into her jumpsuit, he couldn’t feel even the tiniest bit bad about it.
As they entered the med-bay, his grin gave him away.
Kyra rolled her eyes; Kreon was mercifully silent.
And Sera stood holding her daughter’s hand, gazing down at her with tears streaming down her cheeks.
Sera’s bulky armour, more pitted and blackened now than ever, was stacked in the corner. She wore an undersuit embellished with mechanical bits and pieces that was also heavily stained with dirt and blood.
Àurea gazed up at her mother, a strange look on her face. Something had already passed between them, Tris could tell, in the time since she’d awakened. But that was good. They needed a bit of privacy even more than he did.
“Why didn’t you come back?” Kreon said softly.
The stricken look he received from Sera told Tris she also wanted to know the answer to that.
Àurea let out a long breath. “Easy,” she said, her voice small and tired. “It was him. Ingumen — the real Ingumen. He took me from that battlefield and nursed me back to health. He had the mask made for me when I— when I couldn’t—” She took another breath, seeming more child-like in her vulnerability. “When they— when those bastards killed him— I promised I would carry it on. I have a duty to these people now. It’s my job to help them.”
Kreon ran a hand over his bald scalp, while Sera massaged her daughter’s hand.
“He trained me,” Àurea continued, “and showed me what it was like to live under the Keepers of the Faith. I swore to him that I would bring it to an end. I swore…” She let out a single sob. “I loved him.”
“Don’t worry,” Sera said brushing a strand of hair back from Àurea’s face. “I’ll help you. We’ll bring them down together.”
Kreon cleared his throat. “Oktavius has requested that we return immediately. Your little disagreement has left him badly in need of Wardens.”
“Wardens!” Sera snapped. “Do I look like I care about Wardens? That idiot can have them, whatever’s left of them. You too, if you must. Or you could come with us, Kreon! We could return to your planet and start a life there!”
Kreon shook his head slowly. “I cannot. Much as I wish it were otherwise.” He turned his head to include Tris and Kyra. “Examining all the data we acquired will take time, but I have already confirmed my primary theory; it is the Portals that are attracting the Black Ships to our worlds.”
Kyra raised an eyebrow. “Because… the Portals were already there before us?”
“Some were,” the Warden nodded. “Some predate our civilisation completely. Some, however, are more recent additions.”
Realisation dawned on Tris. “There’s one on Atalia… and one on Earth.”
“Indeed.”
“Then we have to get back! We have to show Oktavius, make him understand! Maybe it’s not too late. Maybe we can move the Portals to somewhere else, some crappy little moon where nobody goes. We could use the Portal on the Folly to get to Earth, then take the one there to…” he broke off as the implications of what he’d just said sank in. “Shit. The Folly…”
Kreon placed a gloved hand on his shoulder. “The Folly is not in direct danger. Askarra can jump away at the first sign of their arrival, and she will be unaffected by the madness the Black Ships propagate. Even so, we should minimise Portal travel to all but the most essential journeys. I have no idea whether it is their use, or the Portals themselves, which are attracting our enemies.”
“So we need to get back there! In a ship, so we can take the Portal off Earth for good.”
Kreon looked back at Sera. “We must also appraise Oktavius of the threat. The secret we need to fight the Black Ships is here, I am sure of it — either in the information we obtained, or in that we left behind.”
Àurea pushed herself up in the bed, some of her strength flooding back to colour her cheeks. “Then come with me, father! All three of us. What can we not achieve together? Help me to rid these people of their corrupt overlords, and we will be able to visit Oracle with impunity. You can take all the data you need.”
“No! It is imperative that we return to Atalia, and press on to Earth. The Black Ships could strike at any time. We cannot afford to be distracted by petty disputes.”
“Petty?” Sera snarled. “Didn’t you see what they did to our daughter? Weren’t you there when they beat her to her knees in front of me? Look at her, Kreon! Look at what they’ve done to our baby! I will tear this civilisation apart for this! I will kill every last one of them.”
“Earth is in danger!” Kreon declared. “Atalia is in danger!”
“Atalia is rubble already, if Demios has any backbone.”
“Sydon’s Name!” Àurea yelled. “It’s like being twelve again. Can’t you two agree on anything?”
Sera looked down at her, her expression softening. “We both love you,” she said. “It’s just your father. You know how he is.”
“I am not the villain here,” Kreon protested. He looked to Kyra. “We still have a mission. We have to save Atalia.” He looked at Tris. “And we have to save Earth.”
Kyra looked back and forth between Kreon and Sera. “I’m easy,” she said.
Tris decided it was time to make his opinion known. “Gerian never showed at the trial. I still want to kill him. I can’t leave him running around out here, doing evil shit, with my dad’s face. It’s just not… it’s not happening. Plus, if we stay here we have a chance at rescuing Loader. I know, he could be buried forever, but he’s been that way before. Kreon, we have to try.”
“I’m sorry Tristan,” the Warden said, his hand moving back to Tris’ shoulder and squeezing. “Loader is more important to me than you know. But we have to press on. Our mission is not to help these people, much as it pains me to admit it. And we cannot help Loader, not right now. We must make best possible speed for Earth.”
“I’m not going,�
� Àurea said.
Kreon rounded on her. “You may have been dead for the past eighteen years but you are alive now, and that puts you under my command. Your mother can do what she likes, but I am taking you back to Earth.”
Sera glared at him with such intensity Tris thought she was going to pull a weapon from somewhere and attack.
“Enough!” Àurea yelled, pulling herself up to a sitting position. “I’m not going anywhere.” She looked at Sera. “Thank-you for your support, mother.” Then she looked at Kreon. “But you don’t understand, either of you.” She took a deep breath, then reached for his hand. “Your home is under threat just like mine. But I can’t leave here, no matter what is wrong with the rest of the galaxy.” She took another deep breath, and a slow smile spread across her face. She directed it first at Sera, and then at Kreon. “I don’t care what’s happening anywhere else. My life is here. I’m not leaving my daughter.”
Epilogue
The hooded woman stood in front of the throne, her face shrouded in darkness.
King Viktor stared down at her, pondering what she had just said. The news she’d brought was the most welcome he’d had in a long time; news he’d been waiting decades to hear. His only concern was that this slender woman, so frail in her appearance, was lying to him.
But appearances could be deceptive. Viktor had learned this the hard way, in his youth. He’d paid the price; a long scar traced down the centre of his face, puckering the flesh around it into mottled ridges. A matching one sliced diagonally across his chest, now seen only by his bevy of concubines. He smirked. The woman below, though a bit on the skinny side for his tastes, would make an intriguing addition to his harem. She was a foreigner, come from far away to pedal her tale — perhaps she’d known how eager he would be to hear it.
Perhaps she was trying to play him.
Viktor chuckled at the thought. If so, she really was a foreigner. No-one for a hundred light years in any direction would dare to play him.
A test was required. The stranger could prove her prowess. It wouldn’t be proof that her information was accurate, but it would satisfy his curiosity about her.
And he’d always liked to watch woman fight.
“Munzer!” he called. “I don’t trust her. Make her honest.”
A burly man stepped forward. Munzer was a giant; powerfully built, with arms the size of most mens’ legs. He gave an ugly laugh, stomping towards the stranger. “I’ll sort ‘er out, boss.”
Viktor cleared his throat. “Your majesty, please. I know this situation is a new one, but you have to adjust, man.”
“Huh, Sorry, your majesty.” It sounded so ridiculous coming from him that the whole court laughed at it. Viktor too; it was all a big joke, as far as he was concerned. He shifted on the throne’s thick cushioning, conscious of the patches still wet with the blood of its previous occupant.
“Alright Munzer, get on with it.”
“Yeah.” The huge man faced off against the skinny foreign woman, sizing her up. A vicious grin spread across his face and he rolled his shoulders with a crackle. On his hands were heavy steel gauntlets, studded with sharpened points. He’d ripped them off a mechanoid a few years back, during the conquest of Ardanza. It had been a spectacular fight; Viktor had never seen a man best a machine with his bare hands, but Munzer had done it, tearing the old talos limb from limb.
“Hey! You ready?” Viktor called down at the stranger.
For an answer, she turned to face Munzer and doffed her hood.
Revealed beneath it was a pale face scattered with freckles, and straggly red hair fastened back in a bun. She was pretty, in an intense kind of way, but her eyes were cold as all hell.
Viktor chuckled again. Perhaps some vigorous exercise would warm them up.
“Fight!” he yelled.
Munzer charged. The huge gauntlets came up, one punch from them surely enough to obliterate the girl’s face. It would be a shame, Victor thought, but not a total loss. If she survived, he could always put a bag over her head.
The skinny girl didn’t flinch. She didn’t even move, as the mountain of iron-clad muscle bore down on her. Munzer swung hard — and at the last possible second, the girl ducked, slipping beneath the blow with sinuous grace. Then she made her mistake; she punched towards the big man’s chest, which Viktor knew was armoured with a thick sheet of metal beneath his shirt.
Only, the armour didn’t stop her. Her punch drove in, right through it — and through the body it had been protecting.
Munzer yowled in pain, then made an odd gurgling sound as the girl’s fist withdrew from his chest. Her arm came out bright red, blood pulsing from the wound to soak her overcoat. She stepped back and gave her hand a disdainful flick, showering the floor with crimson droplets.
She didn’t even watch as Munzer collapsed to the floor, his last breath rasping in his ruined chest.
A puddle of blood began to spread slowly from his body, and the girl took just enough notice of it to step aside from the flow.
There was a stunned silence in the throne room.
Viktor nodded at two of his men, and they came forward to drag the corpse away.
Damn it! Munzer was an idiot, but he’d been a good fighter. He’d be missed in the next conquest.
“So,” he addressed the girl, not bothering to hide his irritation. “You shown me you got the stuff. So what if I believe you?”
Her voice was odd, a lilting rhythm to it. “You award me the exclusive contract.” She paused. “And I want double what you’re currently offering.”
“Double?” he leaned forward, studying the girl. “What makes you think you’re worth double?”
She shrugged one slender shoulder. “You get what you pay for, darling. And your target in’t an easy one.”
“And you think you’re up to the job?”
“I’m the only one who is.”
Viktor sat back, regarding her. “And you came all the way out here, just for this. Why?”
“I’ve got a score to settle,” the girl said. “Stands to reason I’d want to make a little money off it.”
He though on that for a few moments. There was no reason for her to lie, as far as he could figure. She’d only get the credits when the job was done, so he was in no danger of losing anything. And he’d only ever met one person who could have beaten Munzer so easily; she was the one who’d given him the scars. Maybe this chick had a chance? She seemed keen enough.
“Alright then.” He looked over at the gadget-laden man he considered his majordomo. “Make a note. This girl has the exclusive contract — either till she does the job, or till she shows up dead.” He looked back at the stranger. “That alright with you?”
“Fine.”
“So you know where she is, eh? How good’s your source?”
The stranger smirked. “You could say I have a family connection.”
That piqued Viktor’s interest, but he didn’t bother digging. Either this scrawny slip of a girl would solve his biggest problem for him, or she wouldn’t. In all honesty, he didn’t fancy her chances. But it sure would be something to watch.
“How you gonna do her, then?” he asked, arousal stirring at the thought.
The girl held up her hands, one of them still dripping with Munzer’s blood. She smiled cruelly, and pushed back the sleeves of her overcoat. Now held up to the light, both her forearms were robotic, made of a dull metal alloy he didn’t recognise. Her smile widened as her hands split open, lethal blades springing out and locking into place. Both arms now ended in foot-long knives, which began to glow red. The girl kneeled, sliding one of the blades effortlessly into the thick stone floor. When she withdrew it, the narrow slot she’d carved was white hot and molten.
Every man in the court had watched the demonstration. Not one of them spoke. That they were not jeering and hollering at the stranger was a marvel in itself. Viktor was no stranger to respect; he commanded it from all his men, had earned it over many years of constant fighting.
This girl seemed to have earned a measure of it in a few short minutes.
Maybe she had a chance after all.
The majordomo cleared his throat. “I’m afraid I’m going to need a name for the contract.”
The stranger appraised him, as though deciding which bit to cut off first. “My name is Evelyn Fitzgerald,” she said at last.
“Alright then, Ms Fitzgerald, Viktor said, drumming his fingertips together. “Exclusive contract. Two million credits for Kylimnestra Loreak of Esper. Dead or alive.” He considered that for a few seconds. “Dead would be far more convenient.”
THE END
To Be Continued in ‘Warden’s Fate,’
Coming in late 2019!
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