“Woah! How did you find all this stuff? Did you get it made? Or… you’ve found a dealer who sells forbidden Earth relics?”
She smiled demurely, and said nothing.
Then his eyes came to rest on the bedside table. On it was a cheap wooden frame with cracked glass. He recognised it instantly. The photo inside showed him sitting in the snow next to his dad, halfway up some random mountain in Austria. He used to look at that picture every night before going to sleep, wondering where his dad was, and what had happened to him…
“This is from my house! What the— how did you—” His brain skipped from one possibility to the next, liking none of them. There was a Portal aboard the Folly, which linked directly to an identical doorway in the basement of his family home. But as far as he knew, only he could activate it. “Did you go through the Portal? How did you turn it on?”
She giggled at him, shaking her head. “No, you know me. I’m an old-fashioned girl. I borrowed one of the shuttles and nipped down to grab a few things.”
“WHAT?” Tris could hardly believe what he was hearing. “Oh my god! You flew down to Earth? Don’t you know how dangerous that is? Not to mention illegal.”
Ella shrugged one delicate shoulder. “Not for me.”
He refused to let it go that easily. “I’m serious! Kyra’s out there every day with the Defence Force. She could have blasted you out of the sky! Have you any idea how many ships they destroy? They’ve got over a hundred squadrons now, and they kill anyone who even thinks about making a run for Earth.”
Ella’s eyes sparkled with delight. “Ohhh! I do love it when you get all protective! But honestly, don’t worry. If I couldn’t slip past those amateurs, I’d deserve to be shot.”
* * *
It was either early, or late. Tris wasn’t quite sure which. After an enthusiastic reunion with Ella, he’d found himself unable to sleep. Possibly, it was because he’d been spending all his time in the library lately, and hadn’t done much physical exercise since the other apprentices had refused en masse to spar with him. More realistically though, it was the underlying excitement he was feeling about this mission. It seemed like forever since he’d been off in the Folly, with the potential for adventure hiding around every corner. All this time spent amongst the studious apprentices and their stern-faced masters had started to erode his soul.
Now, only a couple of hours away from Atalia, he was already feeling better.
This is how it should be! I’ve got my friends around me, and we’re heading off to help someone in need. Well, unless it’s a trap. But even then, we’ll fight our way out, and probably rid the galaxy of some bad people in the process. How much better is that than counting rocks?
His natural optimism was returning already. He felt like he was able to breathe again. He’d been reunited with Ella and his mother, and he finally had a mission to accomplish.
And accomplish it he would. Because his team was pretty much unstoppable.
He had the most dangerous assassin in the galaxy by his side. She was fast asleep and drooling into her pillow, but it counted for the same thing. He had Kyra of course… and he had Lukas. Who despite a bizarre addiction to cartoons and a habit of doing as little as humanly possible, was still pretty handy to have around. Meh. We’ll find something for him to do.
Most useful of all, he had the Folly — restored to a measure of her original, unbelievably destructive potential. Technically he was in command of the battle station, though he’d tried to give Kyra orders once before and it hadn’t ended well. This time, he was happy to leave her in the driver’s seat and just be along for the ride.
Actually, he was always happiest that way.
All three of the women in his life were brilliant, powerful, and utterly lethal.
It was a bit intimidating, but it sure made life interesting.
SIX
It was a surprisingly short trip.
Tris had only just gotten to sleep when Askarra’s voice — though mercifully not her hologram — woke him up to announce their arrival.
Ella sat up in bed, holding the blankets around her decorously.
“I’ll go see what the deal is,” Tris told her, fishing his underwear off the floor. Ella had very proudly showed him the contents of his wardrobe, most of which she’d rescued from his wardrobe back on Earth. While he still didn’t feel great about her making one of the most dangerous trips in the galaxy just to fetch his clothing, he did appreciate being able to pull on a comfy old pair of jeans. He found his t-shirts clung to him embarrassingly, though; he’d gained a fair amount of muscle since the last time he’d worn any of them.
Ella batted her eyelashes at him from the safety of the bed. “Oooh! You look lovely!”
“Argh. If Kyra sees me like this, I’ll never live it down. My nipples are casting shadows for chrissakes!”
Ella giggled, and he threw an abandoned shirt at her. In another section of the closet he found more typical garments; the jacket of a flight suit, which he threw on for the sake of decency, as well as some scraps of smart fabric which had to belong to Ella. He splashed some water on his face, pulled on his boots, and decided he was ready.
“I’ll keep the bed warm,” the assassin said, snuggling back down into it. “I think it’s really nice, what you’re doing for Kyra. She’s vexed by whatever this is, and having you here will help her to stay rational.”
Tris blew out a breath. “I wish I could say it was selfless, but it’s not. I was so desperate to get off Atalia, I think I’d have volunteered to help her shovel shit.” He leaned in for one last kiss, before opening the door.
“Be careful,” Ella said, as he was on the threshold. “Kyra has been on the run for a long time. If her past is catching up with her, then it’s something dangerous enough to scare her. And she’s not someone who is easily scared.”
He turned back to look at her. “Does it scare you?”
She batted her eyelids again. “Of course not, sweetie! I’ve got you to look after me.”
Tris found Kyra on the Folly’s bridge. She looked like she’d had time to think things through a little, and was visibly more relaxed. Her hair was a brilliant rainbow again, which was always a good sign. She was also wearing jeans — hot pink ones, which Tris eyed suspiciously. Like him, she’d complemented her Earth-attire with a jacket that was more in keeping with a space-faring civilisation.
“Morning,” he greeted her. “Nice threads.”
“Yeah.” She looked up from the display she was studying. “Thank your girlfriend for me, would you? Also, tell her that if my squadron catches her sneaking down to Earth, they will blow her to pieces.”
“She doesn’t seem all that bothered.”
Kyra didn’t look surprised. “That’s Priestesses for you. They’ve got backdoors to their backdoors.”
The main viewscreen featured the brownish orb of a planet, overlaid with various marks and digits. Tris had been delighted the first time he’d realised that he could read all that — and not only read it, but understand it too.
“So it’s not really a developed world,” he said, studying the image. “Is this really the right place?”
Askarra’s hologram appeared in the centre of the room, next to the command chair. “This is the location provided to me,” she confirmed. “The co-ordinates are located on the planet Edur, in a small settlement that exists to support the local mining efforts. Edur is a mineral-rich telluric world. It previously held a substantial population, but was reduced to its present state following a man-made climate catastrophe over a thousand years ago.”
“It’s a shit-storm down there,” Kyra added. “You should stick around up here. I’ll call if I need anything.”
“Like hell! You’ve got no idea what you’re walking into. There’s a price on your head, right? Isn’t that why assassins keep popping up all over the place? What if whoever sent you the message is waiting to ambush you?”
She touched the flexible swords wrapped around her w
aist. “Then I’ll teach them the error of their ways.”
She turned and strode off the bridge without another word. Tris followed her, choosing not to challenge her assessment. He was fine with her refusing to admit that she needed help; he’d rather be there and do nothing, than spend the rest of his life wishing he’d been there to do something.
Kyra didn’t stop him following her. She let him join her in the elevator, riding down to a docking bay two floors below the one they’d landed in. This one held her pride and joy; Nightshade, a sleek black shuttle bristling with weapon systems. Nightshade was stolen, too; Kyra had a bad habit of acquiring spacecraft. He suddenly wondered if that would become a problem, now that Kreon wasn’t around to legitimise her actions.
The ramp was down, so they went aboard and strapped themselves into the cockpit. Nightshade could comfortably accommodate four, though Kyra was obviously keen on keeping their crew small for this trip. Tris tapped the comm-chip he’d pinned to his jacket. One benefit of living aboard a sentient battle station was that he didn’t need to give Ella a full report of what he was up to; he just left her a simple message, in case she was still asleep. By the time he’d done that, Kyra had the shuttle’s engines warmed up, and was easing them off the deck. She swung the ship’s nose around to face the opening doors, and casually slotted them through the expanding gap.
The darkness of space enveloped them. The planet below — Edur, apparently — looked dull and uninviting. A uniform brown from this distance, its atmosphere was oddly wispy, as though it was bleeding off into space.
“Is this place dying?” he asked.
Kyra tapped her console, and made a few adjustments to their course while she studied her display. “Slowly,” she confirmed. “But the atmosphere is still breathable. We won’t need any special gear.” She looked over at him. “You wearing your forcefield?”
Tris cursed inwardly. The Aegis gem, an alien artefact which rendered its wearer invulnerable to laser weapons, was still in his father’s suite on the Folly. He’d left it there for safekeeping, not wanting to risk it being discovered and confiscated on Atalia. Ella had worked her nostalgia-inspiring magic one level down from there, and he hadn’t gotten around to transferring the rest of his things.
“Nope,” he admitted. “But I never leave home without my glaive.”
She sighed. “Okay, but our rules of engagement haven’t changed.” She wagged a finger at him. “You are not allowed to get shot.”
There was a clunk from behind them, and a muttered oath. Tris startled, and turned towards the sound — as Lukas emerged from the crew compartment, rubbing his head. He was wearing the same training pants as last night, and nothing else; his bare torso rippled needlessly. “We going somewhere?” he asked.
Kyra swivelled her chair to face him. “Why do you pop up everywhere I go?”
He rolled his tanned shoulders, making his joints pop. “Same answer as the last time you asked me that.”
“You’re living on my shuttle?”
“You never said I couldn’t.”
She glared daggers at him. “I seem to recall us establishing some conditions,” she said.
Lukas looked down at his semi-naked body. “Yeah, but I was in bed.”
“When you sleep on my ship, you sleep wearing clothes,” Kyra hissed. “I don’t need all that—” she waved at his torso, “—stuff all over my nice clean bedding! When we’re done here, I am buying you some pyjamas.”
Lukas gave her a thumbs-up. “Thanks babe.”
Her reply was icy. “If you call me ‘babe’ one more time, you won’t need the bottom half because you won’t have any legs to put in them.”
Lukas gave her another thumbs-up. “Thanks babe.”
* * *
The trip down through Edur’s atmosphere was as rough as any Tris had ever experienced. Abrupt changes in pressure threw Nightshade all over the place, as clouds of dust engulfed the cockpit, reducing the visibility to zero. Forced to fly by instruments, Kyra nevertheless executed a perfect landing, bringing them down on an airfield that had shown up less than a kilometre away from their destination.
The flat square of permacrete was half-covered in sand; the storm which had followed them down refused to abate, filling all their external viewscreens with swirling grit.
“There’s two more shuttles out there,” Kyra said, tapping her display for emphasis. “Doesn’t look like anyone’s inside either of them.”
Lukas re-emerged — dressed, thankfully, but in jeans and a leather jacket that had Tris’ mind whirling with questions. Did Ella go shopping for everyone on Earth? How did she find stuff in his size? And how many trips did she make? Clearly, he was going to have to talk to her about this new hobby. For now though, he just gazed out of the canopy and mentally braced himself for the trip. From what the sensors had told him on the way down, he knew that this planet was sparsely inhabited, parched, arid, and hotter than hell. “If you’re a princess of this,” he said to Kyra, “no wonder you’re not keen on telling anyone.”
She ignored him, unfastening her restraints and heading for the exit. “The location is a bar in the nearest settlement. You boys are free to wait here if the weather bothers you.”
“Bar?” Lukas took off after her.
Tris followed him less enthusiastically. “There’s plenty of booze back on the Folly,” he pointed out.
“There was,” Lukas corrected him. “You’ve been gone for two months.”
The ramp descended on a howling gale. Sand whipped past in a shifting brown blur, obscuring everything more than a few metres away. Bright orange particles swept in through the open hatch, forming little piles on the deck. The noise was intense, like a starship’s manoeuvring jets at point-blank range.
Kyra strode straight down into the middle of it.
Tris watched the storm swallow her up. He could follow her mind with the Gift easily enough, but he wasn’t looking forward to his turn.
“She’s determined, I’ll give her that,” said Lukas.
Tris shrugged. “It’s a family thing. That’s why she’s doing this.”
The big man clapped him on the back, nearly hard enough to send him tumbling down the ramp. “And you’re doing it for her. Good on you, mate. Me, I’m doing it for a nice cold beer.”
And he clomped down after her.
Then the ramp started to rise, so Tris legged it down and jumped off the end.
The wind slammed into him, knocking him sideways. Particles of grit stung his exposed skin, making him wish he’d worn a helmet. A sulphurous stink assailed his nostrils, but he didn’t dare open his mouth to breathe. He lowered his head, using his arms to protect his face, and stumbled off in the direction of Kyra. Lukas was doing the same, a few steps ahead of him, and when he caught up he found a measure of respite in that outsized shadow. One heavy arm reached out to wrap around Tris’ shoulders, and they fought on in a huddle.
“Nice day for it,” Lukas bellowed, the wind tearing at his words.
“I can’t hear you, my ears are full of sand,” Tris shot back.
“You know the first rule of desert warfare? Never go out in a sandstorm.”
Heads down, they forged on for what seemed like an age. Tris kept a mental bead on Kyra; how she was coping with this on her own he didn’t know.
Then, like someone had flipped a switch, the storm vanished. Tris staggered and nearly fell; he’d been bent almost double against the force of the wind. Lukas kept him upright, and he straightened, wiping the grit off his face with his free hand.
They were on the outskirts of a settlement. Squat brown buildings lined a dusty street, which seemed to emerge from the desert right beneath his feet. Beside him, a high-tech fence post glowed blue with another beyond it. They must be creating some kind of barrier to keep the storm at bay.
Kyra stood facing him, a bright pink scarf around her neck and one hand on her hip. “Did I miss something?”
Tris’ brow furrowed. Then he exchanged a s
heepish glance with Lukas, and they stopped clinging to each other. He took a long step away, and busied himself dusting the sand from his hair.
Kyra quirked an eyebrow at them. “We’re done with the group hug, then? Okay. We’re looking for a girl about my height, with long blonde hair. She looks a bit like me… actually, she looks a lot like me. Her name is Lavinnia, and she’s my sister.”
SEVEN
There wasn’t a whole lot going on in town. All the buildings along the main street showed heavy signs of wear; most of them were identical prefabricated modules, customised with signage and the odd splash of peeling paint.
Tris walked next to Kyra, scouring their surroundings with the Gift. The handful of people they passed were shuffling along with their heads down. All shared the bleak, world-weary attitude he’d expect from living in a place like this. “What’s your sister doing here?” he asked, keeping his eyes moving across his side of the street.
“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be here,” Kyra pointed out.
“I recognise the set-up,” Lukas said from behind them. “A big mining corp probably bought out the whole planet after it became uninhabitable. They bring in these shacks, and offer them in exchange for labour. Basically indentured servitude, ‘cause the only people who stick around are the ones that are too poor to leave.”
Tris didn’t like the sound of that one bit. But he was slowly becoming inured to the small-scale injustices of the galaxy. One day he’d be a Warden, and he’d dedicate himself to fixing these things one at a time. Liberating people from oppression was far more satisfying than what Oktavius had planned for him… but not now. This wasn’t about him; this was about Kyra.
Embers of Esper: A Sci Fi Adventure (Warden's Legacy Book 1) Page 5
