by AJ Super
Nyx focused back on the woman who stood at the head of the Queensmen. Her mousy brown hair bounced around her shoulders with each giggle, and the scar that played across her face cracked like an offensive firebolt. She was dressed in Queen’s white and gold. No… in Protectorate white and gold.
Nyx looked over at the three standing in the lift and shook her head, motioning them to stay where they were. She needed them to be safe for a few more moments. Let them come out when the next fight started. Let this person say what they wanted to say. Her hand strayed to the knife at her thigh.
Nyx’s eyes went wide. She had seen this black miasma before. On Oglae.
Boucher. Jaymes Boucher. The Queensman from Oglae who had infected herself with Nyx’s blood.
The Queensman covered her mouth, fits of laughter subsiding. “I should have known that salope queen and that android had something up their sleeves still. No matter how prepared I am for you, you always have some miracle to perform. First, it was your brute coming to save you on Oglae. Now, it’s your sisters giving you the tools to wipe out armies. And I wondered why Phoebe didn’t just escape. It was because she knew you could beat whatever I throw at you.”
Anger rose hot in Nyx’s stomach. Beat? Was Boucher just throwing people at her to see if she could beat her? Were they nothing more than cannon foder? Her white tendrils stretched out in a storm of curling smoke that rushed blindly into the black miasma surrounding Boucher.
The scarred woman twitched a smile. “Do you honestly think that you can control me?”
Nyx pushed the white flame under the darkness down.
Boucher’s shoulders sagged.
Nyx pushed the flame down harder, crushing it.
Boucher fell to her knees and coughed. “That hurts. You should stop it now.”
A force pushed Nyx’s tendrils up and away, scattering them into ash. Nyx stepped back. This woman was infected. There was no way Boucher should be able to repel her powers.
The scarred woman stood and straightened her white and gold capelet. She calmly pulled at the fingers of a white glove, peeling it off her hand as she walked towards Nyx. “The only way I could become immortal was to infect myself with you,” Boucher sneered, dropping the glove. She unsheathed a white-handled knife at her waist and gripped the blade with her bare hand. She ran her palm along the gold metal. “We can’t have gods running around the universe at will.” Boucher held up her bloody hand. “It’s time to submit.”
Nyx’s breath came in fits. Was Boucher trying to infect her like a Nyx? What was Boucher? Another Star? Had Coeus told the truth? She didn’t have the tell-tale tattoos that even Nyx was starting to develop.
Boucher stalked closer to Nyx. “You see, my powers are finite compared to yours. My great-grandmother created an AI/human hybrid that was imperfect. But with your power, that changes.”
Nyx stumbled back. “You’re the other Star of Nyx?” she asked, breathless.
“It’s about time you recognize me,” she spat. “But I’m so much more than just that.” A wicked grin engraved itself across Boucher’s face.
Out of the corner of her eye, Nyx saw Yoon and Isabeau sneak out of the lift and creep to the Alpha Centauri door, open it, and slide in. Malcam was nowhere to be seen.
Nyx fixed her attention back on Boucher. The Queensman was steps away. Nyx squared her shoulders and stood straight. “What is that? What are you, other than an imposter?”
Boucher froze, her expression turning to ice. “I am the first line of Nyx. It is you who are the imposter. The usurper. You who doesn’t belong. My mother had the greatest chance to take her place, to destroy your line with Nue… But instead, they were friends. She only wanted to be a scientist and study how the two lines could converge and become one.” The miasma around her stormed. “I found her notes. I found my grandmother’s and my great grandmother’s notes. I know how you were created. How you were all created. And I know how to converge the two lines of Nyx.” She stepped forward with her bloody hand outthrust.
Malcam swept between the two women, and Boucher planted her palm square on his black Thanatos uniform. He looked down in amusement.
Boucher looked up at him, eyes wide with surprise. “You’re already one of hers, aren’t you? I can’t do anything with you.”
She reached for her energy weapon, but Malcam was quick. With a roar, he picked up the scarred woman by the neck and lifted her, walking away from Nyx towards the dozen Queensmen climbing gingerly over the pile of soldiers. Boucher scratched at Malcam’s clothed forearm, feet kicking, her hand already healed.
The dozen Queensmen climbed clear of the armored bodies and pulled their weapons from their belts.
Nyx gathered herself, pulled her knife from the sheath at her thigh, and cut her palm. She pushed off the floor and sprinted up behind Malcam and around him as the first Queensman leveled his weapon at the monstrous man holding their leader high. She slapped his gun hand and then the face of the woman next to him and extinguished their flames before they even burst brightly. The two crumpled to the ground.
Malcam bent his elbow and tossed Boucher into a cluster of five Queensmen fumbling over their armored compatriots and trying to pull their weapons at the same time. Then he grabbed the nearest Queensman, kicked his feet from under him, and plowed a knee into his mouth and nose. The Queensman fell back, Nyx assumed dead. Her face was stone. C’est bon. If this was how it was going to be, they should all die. They chose a side, and it was the wrong one.
The Queensman in front of Nyx stumbled away from her. Nyx grabbed her hand and pulled the white light through a beautiful sunset orange haze. The Queensman’s eyes rolled back, and her head lolled; she went limp and fell.
Nyx’s hand was healing. She pulled her knife and cut it again as a Queensman rushed her with a growl, stumbling over armored bodies, fumbling with his weapon. Nyx side-stepped the man as his momentum carried him tumbling over the woman she just killed, and she plunged the knife into his kidney as he passed. The Queensman howled, spinning and yanking the knife from Nyx’s slippery grip. He leveled his weapon at her and tightened his trigger finger.
A sharp blast came from the doorway to the Alpha Centauri room, and the Queensman doubled over, blood blossoming on the chest of his white and gold uniform. The doors to the Alpha Centauri room were flung wide open, and Yoon lifted his projectile weapon and grinned at Nyx. Isabeau stood behind him with Phoebe and Erebus next to her. Erebus was still in the red dress which she had been damaged in, black coolant staining the back where Coeus had shot her. Phoebe wore a white tunic and pants. Why was she dressed like an Engineer?
Nyx started forward. Isabeau’s eyes widened, and Nyx spun to see a Queensman sighting down on her. Nyx ducked and sped towards the woman aiming at her. The Queensman shot wide and over the top of her head. Nyx struck out with her leg, sweeping the Queensman’s feet from under her. Nyx hopped on top of the tightly coifed woman and grabbed her face with a bloody hand. She stood, white smoke smothering the growing flame in the welcoming teal blanket surrounding the Queensman. The Queensman relaxed with a sigh. And didn’t move again.
Nyx only wanted to go to her sisters. She looked over her shoulder at Malcam. He had beaten three other Queensmen beyond recognition, and likely to death. Boucher was struggling to untangle herself with a small cluster of Queensmen and dead soldiers, and three had frozen in their slow crawl over the soldiers and were raising their weapons.
Yoon and Isabeau opened fire.
Malcam covered his head and darted towards Nyx. He grabbed her and wrapped an arm around her head in a ducking run towards the lift.
The Queensmen used the bodies for cover, spraying energy blasts blindly towards the fleeing group. Yoon and Isabeau covered the rear as Erebus and Phoebe caught up to Malcam and Nyx.
Nyx glanced around, and her stomach dropped. She was missing. That horrid black aura. The other Star of Nyx. Boucher. She was gone.
Nyx glanced at the lift. The doors had closed. She ran ahead, Ma
lcam trailing behind her. Nyx slapped the pad. The doors slid open.
Boucher stood with her energy pistol pointed between Nyx’s eyes. Nyx flicked a glance at the scarred woman’s trigger finger as it tightened.
“If we can’t merge the lines, then there must only be one,” Boucher growled.
Malcam stepped in between Nyx and Boucher, facing Nyx with a small smile. Je t’aime, he whispered to Nyx as he pushed her back, hands on her shoulders.
Boucher ticked her aim slightly higher, and a blast of blue energy emitted from the barrel of the weapon.
Malcam’s head snapped forward. He stumbled into Nyx, leaning his weight on her. Nyx put her arms around him, holding him up. “No, no, no, no, no,” she repeated under her breath as his weight pulled her to the floor. Boucher slipped out of the lift and ran down the silent Hall of Stars. Nyx knelt with Malcam leaning on her shoulder. “No, no, no, no, no.” Her mind was blank, concentrating on the limp body in her arms.
“Malcam.” She shook him. “Don’t play. We have to go. Malcam.”
Gently, she rolled him off her shoulder and onto the shining floor.
Nyx sat, staring. Malcam lay still, his face a bruised mess from the punch of the energy weapon at close range. She sent her tendrils across his body, searching for blue crests of energy, for the white flame that connected the two of them. She shuddered.
His blue waves. Gone.
The little white flame. Gone.
Nyx sucked in her breath. He couldn’t be.
He couldn’t be. Dead.
She started to shake. Tears gathered, warm crystals burning her eyes. She blinked, reaching to touch his warm shoulder. “Malcam,” she whispered. “Malcam.”
“Malcam!” she whispered. She leaned into his broad chest. “I won’t be a Star. I’ll just be Nyx. I’ll do that. We’ll be together. I’ll give you what you wanted. Just—don’t go, Malcam. Please come back to me. Please come back. Malcam, come back! Heal! Live! That’s an order!” She pounded the ground, tears streaming down her face. “Don’t leave me!”
She lowered her head and a wail formed in the center of her chest. She swallowed. He said he’d be by her side. He said he’d support her. He would keep her safe. And now…
She glanced up to where Boucher had fled. There was time. She could go after her. Kill her. But Nyx’s was rooted to the spot next to Malcam. She couldn’t catch her breath. Boucher had been aiming for her. Why did Malcam step in between them? Why did he save her? He was supposed to keep his promise. He couldn’t do that if he was laying there…
She leaned over him and touched his purpled face, flinching. The energy weapon blast had mangled his broad jawline and bruised his white skin. Boucher had ruined him. Had stolen him.
She stood up. Boucher. She should go after Boucher. She started down the hall after the Queensman.
Yoon grabbed her shoulder, and she jumped. “We need to go.”
Nyx’s eyes flashed. “She dies first.”
“There’s no time. Can’t you hear the soldiers coming?”
Nyx shook her head. The blood raging in her ears quieted the silent echo of marching feet coming their direction.
“They’re coming, Nyx. We’ve got to leave,” Phoebe said quietly.
Nyx looked at the expectant faces of the others in her party. They all agreed, clearly. They wanted to leave. She nodded slowly and bent down to lift Malcam’s body.
“There’s no time.” Yoon lifted her by an elbow, straightening her. “We have to go.”
“Not without him.” Nyx shook her head.
Isabeau stepped forward and wrapped an arm around Nyx. “Nothing will bring him back from that, ma chérie. Mon petit papillon.”
“Princess. He called me princess.”
Isabeau nodded. “I know, sweet thing. But we’re here to save your sisters. And he knew what he was doing.”
He knew what he was doing? He left her. He couldn’t even stay alive for her. He promised her father that he would take care of her. He even went so far as to develop feelings for her. The evil, monstrous Malcam had feelings for her. Real feelings. And—she sucked in her tear-stained cheeks—she had feelings for him. The memory of him blushing after Berto teased him earlier that day crushed her heart. The rough-and-tumble Malcam had blushed… about her.
And she was ready to give him what he wanted. She would have given up being the God of Gods. She would have given up being the Star. She would just be plain old pirate Nyx again. She would be less than what she was now. All for him…
But that salope Boucher took that from her. Nyx clenched her fists, her tendrils amassing and spreading down the corridor in a white storm.
Malcam was dead. He was gone. And that salope was to blame.
Nyx stood shakily, pushing Isabeau off, a scream rising in her throat.
The sound of armored footsteps echoed louder down the hall. Isabeau grabbed Nyx’s hand and pulled. Nyx drew in a deep breath and let Isabeau drag her into the lift. Erebus and Phoebe were silent.
Yoon hit the door pad and the lift whooshed to the docking level, where their shuttle waited.
Erebus broke the silence, eyes wide, whispering. “Nyx’s tattoo. Look at it.”
Nyx closed her eyes and bowed her head. Out of the corner of her eye, in the shining wall of the lift, she had caught the distorted reflection of a black pattern that had emerged on the side of her face. So, she wasn’t human anymore. She finally had become one of the Stars in totality. And all she had to sacrifice was Malcam.
She patted Isabeau’s hand wrapped on her shoulder and peeled off the woman’s fingers. Nyx shifted forward and straightened her back, head still hanging low, eyes burning. “I want that truc de merde. That putain de salope, she’s going to pay,” she whispered hoarsely. The white tendrils boiled off of Nyx, reaching to the flames of the four behind her, making them burn fiercely. “Her life for his.”
The others in the lift were silent. The doors opened, and Nyx stormed out to the shuttle where she waited, watching.
Yoon glanced at Isabeau and his sisters, then followed Nyx.
Phoebe put a hand on Erebus as she started forward, “Nyx is going to get us all killed if she does this too soon. She’s going to need us with her to survive.”
Erebus nodded tiredly. “She’s family. I always stay with family.”
“So be it,” Phoebe whispered, and they both walked to Nyx.
Isabeau hung back, shaking her head, then hesitated forward.
Nyx smiled broadly as her family stepped towards her. They would all be in this together.
30
Nyx sat on the cold seat of the shuttle, knees to her chest and an elbow wrapped around her bowed head. Malcam had just been here holding her hand. She buried her face into the darkness of her lap and inhaled a stuttering breath, willing herself not to cry. They had left him behind. Her chest screamed. They could have at least brought his body with them. But they had just left him behind.
Yoon whispered, “Who was that other woman?”
White hot rage rolled over Nyx. “Dead,” she growled, mouth sticky with unshed tears. “Jaymes Boucher, whoever she claims to be, is nothing more than dead.” She glared at Yoon.
Isabeau sat next to Nyx and rubbed her shoulders lightly. “We know. But who is she? What is she? What is she claiming to be?”
“It’s not a claim. It’s the truth. She’s from the original line of Nyx,” Phoebe said softly.
“There’s only one Star of Nyx,” Nyx spat. “I am the God of Gods. No one else is the head of this family.” She peered over her knees at Phoebe, jaw tight. She wouldn’t let Jaymes Boucher have her family. She’d already taken someone precious from Nyx. Boucher wouldn’t get the rest of her family too. Nyx would forever and always be the head of the pantheon. The head of the family. Even if Crius protested. Even if Phoebe saw a different path. Nyx would make it so.
Phoebe shook her head. “The Progenitor had experiments before all of us. Most were destroyed so that there was no redunda
ncy, but when she first experimented with a line that could contain the Stars, she wanted a human element and used herself.”
“What does that mean?” Yoon furrowed his brow.
“Boucher’s a descendant of the Progenitor, a hybrid. Born, just like our Nyx. But she has much more limited powers.” Phoebe and Nyx stared at each other.
Nyx turned towards Erebus and glared accusingly. “All the time you were still on the Thanatos, you could have said something. You could have given us intel on Boucher and her claims.”
Erebus shifted in her harness and lowered her head, eyes steady on her feet.
Phoebe sighed. “No, she couldn’t have. They put her in a dark room and quarantined the systems around it. I had no contact with her until just a few days ago. By then, her central consciousness had been pulled from the Thanatos, and she was being blocked from connecting with any of the other technologies she had infected. Boucher has all the original Progenitor’s research. She knows everything about the Stars. Things we’ve lost over the many years we’ve lived. She knows our weaknesses and how to exploit them. She knows how to cut Erebus’ brain from her body.”
“If she’s a Star of Nyx and the Progenitor, what does that make our Nyx?” Yoon muttered.
Phoebe was quiet for a moment. “The original Progenitor had an assistant. When the tech was found to be flawed, the Progenitor convinced her assistant to partake in the second experiment. That is our line of Nyx.”
Nyx buried her head in her arms again. She was second, and the Star of Nyx wasn’t truly her legacy. It was stolen from the Progenitor’s line. Nyx chilled. She was stealing someone else’s destiny. The anger spread to her fingertips. She clenched her hands tight. So what. She was a damn pirate. She could steal whatever she wanted. And by all regards, she was a better Nyx than Boucher could ever be. After all, Boucher wanted to blend the lines so she could be the ultimate Nyx. Obviously, Nyx had qualities that Boucher didn’t. She was the God of Gods.
Isabeau whispered next to her as she continued to gently rub her back. “Who exactly was this assistant? A great-great-grandmother?”
