Embers of Esper: A Sci Fi Adventure (Warden's Legacy Book 1)

by Tony James Slater

  It didn’t last for long. The guns quietened, and the eerie silence descended once more. Had Tris and Lukas survived? Gods, she hoped so. And Alek… well, she wasn’t too bothered about him. But his daughters would probably miss him. Her teammates were tough, though. She had a hunch that she’d be hearing from them. And if Viktor did kill any of them, I’m just going to have to make him suffer some more. Not that there’s much wiggle room. He already has a lot to atone for.

  She stalked through the door, and the next two doors that opened in a similar fashion. Her route hadn’t deviated; like Alek said, there weren’t many parts of this barge that were built for humans. Finally, she came to a much wider door on the left hand side. It opened onto a control room of sorts, with banks of monitors lining the walls and the soft hum of computers on stand-by. In keeping with the rest of the ship it was a huge space, with consoles sprouting in concentric circles and a large, round holo-table taking up the centre.

  And next to that table, a mocking smile on his face, stood Viktor.

  Every muscle in Kyra’s body went tense. The sight of him drove all other thoughts from her head; a red haze descended across her vision, and her swords sprang into her hands like they had a will of their own.

  For his part, Viktor didn’t seem remotely perturbed. “Ah, Kyra,” he said, his voice every bit as rich and scorn-filled as she remembered. “So good of you to come. It has been a long time.”

  A pair of his men stood on either side of him, wearing head-to-toe armour in black with red accents. It was much better gear than his mercs had worn in the old days, she remembered — and with that thought, a tidal wave of memories swept over her. Her sisters, growing up. Parties they’d been forced to endure, under the watchful eye of Viktor’s goons. Terrible tales they’d heard, and shared in whispers; the first time she’d seen a person killed, right in front of her. And a scrawny young man with wild brown hair and a cheeky grin. A boy, really… one that Viktor had taken away from her.

  Viktor had taken everything away from her.

  Including, for a while, her sanity.

  Time to make him pay.

  “Give up the girl,” she said, stalking into the room. She was inside the extreme range for her swords, but there were several obstacles between them. Viktor’s armour looked sleek and expensive, and she’d seen him shrug off wounds that would kill a lesser man. She needed to choose her opening. She also needed to glean a few more details about all of this, before she closed the book on him.

  “Straight to business,” he said, shifting his weight slightly.

  Oddly enough, he was also armed with swords. That can’t be right?

  And it got weirder. Try as she might, she couldn’t sense him through the Gift. He was blocking her so convincingly that, had she not been face to face with him, she wouldn’t have known he was there.

  Now where in hell did he get that ability? A Kharash gem, like Kreon had? But no, that only worked because Kreon already had some talent…

  She kept moving, coming further into the room. There was plenty of space to walk between the consoles, which curved to just above waist height like giant white flowers.

  Viktor raised a sword, as though signalling her to stop, and the goons either side of him trained their rifles on her. Both wore sealed helmets, and somehow Viktor was masking their thoughts, too. Unless one of them was the psychic? Both of them, perhaps…

  Is this his trap? Has he hired a pair of priestesses to strike when I make my move? If so, he’s going to regret it. They might get me, but he won’t live to see it.

  “That’s far enough,” he said, his tone still dry. “Unless you’d like to hand over my Master Key? Very clever of you, to let the idiots on this planet believe they still had it, while all the time it was wandering the stars with you.”

  Kyra frowned in spite of herself. Where is he getting his information? Or is he just spouting bullshit conspiracy theories? Then it dawned on her. Vinni! After the empty vault, she had to tell him something. This must have been the most convincing lie she could come up with — and he swallowed it, because he’s been chasing me for decades. Gotta validate his little vendetta somehow.

  “Yeah, I’ve got the Key,” she said, letting boredom creep into her tone. “But I didn’t bring it with me. I thought perhaps you’d like to settle this between us. Like men.” She put just enough derision into that word to make her point. She was superior to him in every way imaginable; it was now down to his arrogance to redress that balance.

  Viktor shrugged. “Why not? The girl is dead, anyway. Such fragile things, princesses, don’t you find?” He leered at her, and Kyra felt a knot twist in her stomach. Was he lying? Normally, she’d be able to tell. But with him invisible to her Gift, she had to pray he was full of shit — despite evidence to the contrary.

  Keep it together, she reminded herself. Viktor was a canny opponent; upsetting her was an obvious strategy, aimed at forcing her to make a rash move. I can beat him easily, and he knows it. He has to know it. So why the hell is he playing like this? What does he stand to gain?

  She was in serious danger of psyching herself out. No-one she’d ever faced generated the same mixture of awe and dread inside her. Viktor had survived where enemies a thousand times more powerful had fallen to her blades. How the hell is he even walking, much less conquering Esper? Another mystery she wouldn’t solve by chopping his legs off.

  But it would make her feel a damn sight better.

  “Okay, let’s do this.” She raised her swords, keeping them short and straight. There was still a slight chance that he didn’t fully appreciate their power. “Are your buddies gonna hold off on shooting me, or do I have to disembowel them first?”

  Viktor turned aside, and nodded to his men. Both took a long step back, placing themselves a good ten feet away from him. Of course, there was no guarantee that they wouldn’t just open fire as soon as the fight started; normally, she relied on the Gift to warn her of things like that. Instead, she resolved to keep a weather eye on the men. Arranozapar would cut through their armour like tinfoil; she could take both of them, or perhaps all three, in a single slice.

  But don’t get ahead of yourself. Something is definitely not right here…

  Viktor struck a pose, facing her. His eyes glittered like coal. His swords gave off a slight buzz, suggesting some exotic tech in them; she doubted they’d slice through a ship’s hull, but they didn’t need to. She was only wearing the basic light armour she’d borrowed from Issi; a decent bread knife would go through it given enough motivation.

  Tris? she thought, suddenly. Hope you’re up there, somewhere! And getting shit done. Because I have a feeling this is about to go sideways…

  And for the briefest second, she felt the touch of his mind. With his impressive talent, he would likely have made a proper connection. I’ve found Viktor, and I’m about to chop his dick off, she thought to him, in case he could hear her.

  And then, swords held loosely in both hands, she tried to do just that.

  Her first strike was a feint, designed to draw out any tricks Viktor was hiding. She didn’t usually bother — there weren’t many tricks, hidden or otherwise, that could stop her from decapitating someone. But this wasn’t her average opponent.

  Viktor dodged her blow, moving with impressive speed and agility. He was the product of extensive genetic tinkering, after all, as well as having numerous cybernetic upgrades. He didn’t retaliate; just waited, poised, for her next move.

  Well, shit. I hate to disappoint the man.

  This time, she stuck with both swords. Swirling like ribbons, they came at Viktor in a blur of impossibly-sharp metal. But he did the impossible; he simply raised his hands, and blocked the flashing blades with his forearms. His armour sang in protest, and Kyra instantly knew what was wrong.

  “I picked up a few tips from that bitch assassin,” he said, sounding smug. “A substance that can withstand your little toys? It was worth every penny.”

  Kyra backed up, needin
g to put more space between them. She could see narrow brown bars like stripes on his arms and legs. They’d looked decorative at first, but now revealed a more sinister purpose. She risked a glance at the two men waiting in the wings; their armour looked identical to his, apart from their helmets. Holy crap! Are they all Arranozapar-proof?

  It didn’t matter though. Not really. She had Viktor’s measure now. She’d figured out his secret. If he thought that was going to keep him safe, he was sorely mistaken. “You know what I did to that assassin, right?” she said.

  “I never did find out.” His tone was light, conversational.

  “Something like this,” Kyra said. And she attacked again, aiming for the join just below his shoulders. All armour had articulation points there, and it was always a weak spot.

  He got his arm up again, deflecting the strike, but her other sword was following a different route. It swung up from below, a split second behind the first. Another common weak spot on armour was the groin — and this time he was too slow to block. The sword went in and out in a flash, slicing cleanly through his hip. No cry of pain came, and no blood sprayed as the limb fell away. Viktor toppled sideways — but as he did so, he threw one of his swords. It arced through the air towards her head, and would have skewered her if she hadn’t managed to twist aside at the last moment. As it was, the scything blade opened a gash across her shoulder, parting armour and flesh like butter. Blood did run from her wound, soaking her arm as she recovered to a defensive pose.

  And amazingly, Viktor did the same. He levered himself upright, balancing on one leg like it was a disturbing party-trick. He only had one sword left. Despite the pain throbbing from her wound, Kyra knew she had him. Which meant that, at any second the other two men would unleash a storm of laser fire. She was more focused on throwing herself into cover than she was on her next attack.

  But Viktor waited patiently for it to come. “You’ve improved,” he said, and there was no sign of discomfort on his face.

  “I’ll give you one chance,” Kyra said, not daring to look at her own injury. “Leave now. Surrender the girl, and get the hell off my planet. You’ve got three more limbs to lose; maybe you care about one of them.”

  He cracked a grin, one side of his mouth twisted by the scar she’d given him all those years ago. “Not just yet. There’s a certain look on your face, and I’ve waited so long to see it.”

  “Really?” she raised an eyebrow at him. “I hope it’s glee. Because I’m loving every single minute of this.” And keeping one sword in reserve, she swung the other. The blade whipped towards his head, curving in front of him at the last moment to shift targets. It circled his torso and came up by his severed leg, plunging deep into his body. Kyra willed the blade to slice upwards, and it obeyed her command — carving clear through Viktor from navel to crown. It returned, as it did after every strike, becoming rigid again — as the two halves of Viktor’s body fell apart. They crashed to the deck in opposite directions, trailing a shower of sparks, and lay still…

  And Kyra stared in horror at what she’d just destroyed.

  Because it wasn’t a man at all. It was a robot; a talos, an artificial person.

  Her jaw went slack. Viktor was… Viktor was a…?

  It didn’t make any sense.

  Then one of the armoured henchmen began to move, striding over to where the two halves of wreckage lay fizzing and popping. He turned to face Kyra and reached up, removing his helmet… revealing an all-too familiar face. Military buzz-cut. Eyes like flint. A long scar running up the left side.

  “Ahhh!” said the new Viktor, his voice rich with satisfaction. “That’s the look I wanted to see.”

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Tris landed harder than he’d anticipated on the steel deck, but managed to absorb the impact with his knees. They’d be sore later… but only if he survived. He stowed his staff, shrinking the handle but leaving the blade attached, and used the light on his rifle to scan the area.

  Enormous containers were stacked three high along the far wall, presumably filled with spare parts for the barge, or ammo for those giant guns. Rails on the roof suggested a method of transportation, and he quickly realised that this place would be lethal in operation. Getting squished under a hundred ton shipping container wasn’t his idea of a glorious end, so as soon as he spotted an exit he tapped the others and led them over to it.

  “We’re not far from the crew quarters,” Alek said, waving his tablet. It was backlit, and glowing so brightly that it outlined the wide doorway. “Jenna’s ID chip is coming from there.”

  Tris reached out with the Gift, exploring the darkened holds and corridors around them. At least, that’s what he imagined he was exploring; without a single living soul nearby to give him a glimpse of their surroundings, he was in the dark both literally and figuratively.

  “It’s that way,” Alek said, pointing directly at the door. “See?”

  Tris didn’t bother looking at the offered floor-plan. Instead, he re-doubled his efforts… and caught something. The tiniest, faintest sense of a living mind — one deeply unconscious, to the point where he could barely sense it.

  “Not good,” he told the others. “The princess… I think she’s been hurt pretty bad. She might be in a coma.”

  Alek’s face, already pale, went whiter still. His lips trembled, then compressed, as he fought to keep his emotions in check. From what little Tris knew of the guy, he wasn’t particularly suited to this kind of stress. I had to tell him, though. At least now he knows what to expect. Can’t have him going ballistic when we find her — we might be knee-deep in bad guys by then.

  Although… that tiny spark of consciousness was the only human presence he could find. No horde of soldiers waited to greet them; no mercenaries were lying in ambush around the next corner. It was quite a refreshing change; they’d been on the run from the moment they entered Esper’s atmosphere. So far, Kyra’s homeworld hadn’t been too kind to them.

  Huh! I don’t know why that would surprise me.

  Lukas tapped the metal door. It was big, designed for loaders hauling containers rather than pedestrians. “Alek, can you hack in and open this?”

  Alek sucked his teeth. “Of course. But then they’ll know we’re in here.”

  He didn’t need to be specific; the memory of being shot at by cannons the size of train carriages was still fresh in Tris’ memory. Someone was in charge here, and they didn’t take too kindly to Alek’s intrusions. “Yeah, let’s save the hacking for when we need it. I got this.”

  He freed his staff and went to work.

  It was fairly simple to cut a hole for them through the big door, but he lacked the effortless grace Kyra managed. She had the benefit of range, whereas Tris had to have his nose up against any wall he wanted to cut through. I hope I don’t have to do this with people chasing us. Yet another reason to be glad this place was so empty. Even if it did seem a little odd.

  He didn’t cut the piece free completely; his own method, which he considered a refinement of Kyra’s technique, involved leaving enough metal to form a hinge, thereby solving the issue of a heavy slab of wall crashing noisily to the deck. He levered the new door open, and Lukas lent his strength to bend it inwards.

  Tris stepped cautiously though, into another vast, darkened chamber identical to the last.

  Damn, this place is massive! More huge crates were stacked to the ceiling, though fortunately most of the space was empty. The others came through after him and set off across the chamber, aiming for a spot roughly opposite.

  “Deliveries from the Ring,” Alek noted, pointing to indecipherable markings on every container.

  Tris couldn’t help wondering if there was something inside them that they could use; the munitions in this place had to be more powerful than the bag of bombs slung over Lukas’ shoulder. Sadly, time was not on their side. He shook his head. Is it ever?

  His musing was interrupted by an ominous screech from the chamber they’d just left.
r />   All three of them froze mid-stride, and turned to look behind them.

  “That didn’t sound good,” said Lukas.

  “Yeah…” Tris glanced across the wide space to their destination. They were over halfway there. “Let’s go!”

  But as they pelted towards the far side of the chamber, another noise drowned out the rushing of blood in Tris’ ears. A staccato thudding, like many objects striking a surface in rhythmic succession…

  Boots on the deck. Lots of them. Coming closer.

  “We’ve got company,” Lukas said, skidding to a halt. He raised his rifle, the narrow beam of light picking out the hole Tris had cut. “Get out of here! I’ll take ‘em as they come through.”

  “No way,” Tris said, bringing his own rifle to bear. “There’s no cover out here, you won’t last ten seconds! Get behind me.”

  Lukas snorted. “Have you seen the size of you?”

  Tris ignored that, his brain working frantically. “Can we block the hole? Buy ourselves some time?” The idea of an army chasing them through the whole damn ship didn’t really appeal.

  “How?” Lukas cast a quick glance around, but they were already too far from the hole, and the drumming of footsteps was getting louder.

  “Alek!” Tris waved at the coder, then pointed up at the ceiling. “Can you hack that?”

  Alek’s eyes widened for a second — then he went to work. His fingers flew over the tablet, and a second later a clank from high above announced his success.

  “Grab a container! Bring it over.”

  Alek was already doing just that. The crane whirred and whined, but Tris couldn’t watch its progress. He focused his mind on the group that was even now massing to enter this chamber…

  And felt nothing.

  Not a thing.

  There’s no-one there!

  But his ears told him different.

  Lukas had dropped to one knee, and Tris edged in front of him to lend him some protection from the Aegis. Something gleamed in the torchlight; an armoured form, black all over, came into focus.