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

by Tony James Slater

  Squirrels chittered at them as they passed, and larger animals bounded away; Tris recognised the flashing white tail of a deer springing off the trail up ahead. “Hey, you’ve got the same animals we do.”

  “Yup,” Kyra confirmed, keeping her eyes on the road. “My ancestors brought all the best species with them. If you keep your eyes peeled, you might see a unicorn.”

  Tris chuckled, grateful for the distraction.

  “Don’t laugh at me,” she said, suddenly defensive. “I’m telling you, they’re out there.”

  “I’m telling you they’re not,” he countered. “There aren’t any unicorns on Earth, either.”

  “That’s probably because your people are a bunch of savages, and you ate them all.”

  “You’re not serious, are you? There never were any. Science says so.”

  She scoffed at that. “We must have brought them all with us, then.”

  The journey to Kyra’s city took less than twenty minutes. Foliage flew by on all sides, and Tris felt excitement stirring within him. Mythical beasts notwithstanding, this was the kind of thing he’d signed up for — riding at the head of a high-tech army to liberate a city from a band of evil mercenaries. Much better than cataloguing asteroids! Even if I do stand a better chance of being shot. He still wore the Aegis, which gave him a distinct advantage. This fight, particularly if it was against human adversaries, should be easy.

  And by the time Viktor realises that we’ve shut down his robot factories for good, he won’t have anything left to throw at us. We’ve got enough firepower here to fry a ton of those androids. Hell, we might actually win this!

  Tris was amped up. Possibly due to the success of his solo mission — or possibly because he’d given in to temptation and popped the second stim-pill shortly after landing in Laugarren. He could feel its energy coursing through him, spurring him on to this final battle.

  Kyra on the other hand was growing increasingly anxious. He didn’t need to pry into her thoughts; it wafted off her like a scent, tinged with something he’d never thought he’d sense from her…

  Homesickness.

  “Speed up,” she commanded, drumming her fingers on the console. “I want to get ahead of the column.”

  “Bad strategy,” Jen countered. “We let the scouts arrive first. That’s why we call them scouts.”

  “I don’t trust the scouts,” Kyra said. “They hate my people more than they hate Viktor’s. I want to be there when we arrive, in case there’s a misunderstanding.”

  Jen sighed, and the tank drifted skywards.

  “Faster,” Kyra urged her.

  Jen scowled. “Do you want to drive?”

  “Yes!”

  “Well you can’t.”

  They were buzzing along close to the canopy now, leafy branches whipping by.

  “Not long now,” Alek said brightly. He flipped his tablet around so Tris could see a map — basically just a huge blob of green with a single black line running through it, connecting to a large structure which was just coming onto the edge of the display.

  Sure enough he was starting to feel the psychic pressure of all those minds — a huge number of people, the closest portion of an entire city’s population. He squelched his Gift down to nothing, not wanting to risk sensory overload. His control over it was erratic, he found, and he blamed the stim-pills. Hopefully that was their only side-effect.

  A crackle from the comm drew everyone’s attention.

  “Commander, we’ve reached the edge of the forest and can confirm multiple targets in the immediate vicinity. Requesting permission to go weapons-hot.”

  “NO!” Kyra shrieked into the comm. “Stand down! STAND DOWN!”

  “Confirm order to stand down?” the voice came back more terse this time. “Be advised, scanners indicate that targets are armed.”

  “Of course they’re armed, you frikkin’ idiot! That’s my people out there.”

  The tension was too much. Tris wrestled with his Gift, reaching out towards that swirling mass of humanity and trying to separate individuals from the throng. He couldn’t do it — not at this range, not without a visual reference of some kind — but the overall, pervading mood of the crowd was… triumph? Elation!

  “Yes,” he chimed in, “they’re celebrating!”

  As he spoke, Jen gunned the engine and they burst out through the last fringe of trees. A vast stone wall greeted them, stretching across the open ground less than a mile from their position. Hundreds of people milled around in front of it, dressed in every conceivable manner. Men, and women, young and old… every demographic was represented, and most of them were dancing with sheer glee. Great wooden gates stood open, with more people spilling out from the city beyond. Many of them carried rifles, though some seemed to be armed with tools and household utensils. It was immediately obvious that they weren’t mercenaries; that scout with his finger on the trigger needed an eye test. Or an attitude adjustment.

  “You’re right,” Jen breathed, her hands going lax on the controls.

  “Of course I’m right! Now get this thing on the ground.” Kyra jabbed a finger at the main display. “See outside that tent? The old lady with the swords? That’s my mother.”

  Jen set their tank down at a respectful distance from the tent. She’d been busy on the comms, convincing most of her forces to hang back until further notice. The rejoicing people had offered mixed reactions, some scurrying back into the city in terror, whilst others gazed in confusion at the line of vehicles emerging from the forest. So far, no-one had opened fire, and Jen was working to keep it that way.

  Kyra had something else on her mind, however. The instant they touched down she sprang the hatch, unbuckling her harness and moving towards the exit like a woman in a dream. She climbed out and headed for the tent — a makeshift thing, Tris noticed, thrown together from blankets over a frame made of sticks.

  Outside the tent stood a slender woman clad in a loose black tunic and trousers. Her grey hair was tied up in a bun, and she clutched a pair of ornate-looking swords. Blood coated both blades, and the confidence in her stance told him that she knew how to use them. He quickly caught up with Kyra, walking alongside her towards what could only be her mother. A thrill of anticipation ran through him; after all the ludicrous stories Kyra had told him about her upbringing, he was finally going to learn the truth.

  The woman’s face, when she realised what was happening, was a kaleidoscope of emotions. She went from stern arrogance to shock, then hope and disbelief flickered across her features before she made an effort to regain her composure. She gave her swords a stylish twirl, flicking the worst of the blood off them in a spray of crimson drops before coiling them around her waist. Tris’ heart beat faster; it was the same move he’d seen Kyra do a thousand times. That must be where she got it from! Why on earth would she lie about learning something from her mother?

  The old queen of Esper — the queen mother, he decided — spread her arms as her daughter approached. “Nessie? Gods and stars, is that really you?”

  Kyra made a face at her. “Please, mother! Don’t call me that.”

  “And what else am I supposed to call you?” she stepped closer and gathered Kyra into a hug. “You look fabulous, darling! Wandering the stars must agree with you.” She released her daughter, stepping back with tears in her eyes. Then she turned to Tris. “And this must be the boy from Earth. Tristan, isn’t it? I’ve heard so much about you.”

  Tris felt his jaw sag. It was the last thing he’d expected, and he was utterly lost for words. “I… um…”

  She frowned at him. “Hm. A little slow on the uptake, isn’t he?”

  Kyra was hiding her own surprise more effectively. “He gets there in the end,” she said. “So tell me… how did all this happen? We were expecting to start a firefight, or at least to join in with one.”

  Her mother’s eyes twinkled. “We’ve been preparing for a while. The Zortzigarrens have opened up a whole network of tunnels beneath the city,
and they’ve been helping us to move around undetected. All we really lacked was weapons.” Her voice took on a conspiratorial tone. “And then, just last night, a young lady showed up. She brought everything we needed to chase those miserable ruffians out of the city. Now the only ones left are holed up in the palace.”

  “And Vinni?” Kyra asked. “Do they still have her?”

  The old queen’s smile deepened. “No, we’ve got her tucked away nice and safe. That was the hardest part. They kicked everyone else out when they first took over, but they kept poor Vinni under constant guard. If it hadn’t been for your friend, we might never have been able to free her.”

  It was Kyra’s turn for confusion. “My friend?” She glanced at Tris and Lukas. “Mum, I don’t have any other friends.”

  “Oh, nonsense dear! The young lady who brought the guns. She says she knows you very well.”

  A certain suspicion was growing in Tris’ mind, and he sensed the moment that Kyra cottoned on to it. She arched an eyebrow at him. “Is that your girlfriend? She really can’t help herself, can she?”

  Tris held his palms up. “I don’t know what to tell you. I can’t sense her here, but I never can.” He looked at Kyra’s mother. “Excuse me your Highness, but where is this ‘young lady?’”

  “Why, she’s inside dear, tending the wounded.”

  But just then, the front of the tent flapped open and Ella strolled out. She moved with casual ease, and as with every time he saw her, Tris felt his breath catch. Her red hair hung loose, gleaming copper where the sun kissed it. The tight black one-piece she wore left little to the imagination, though for once she’d accessorised it with more obvious weapons. A pair of pistols rode her hips, and the hilts of two swords peeked out above her shoulders.

  “There you are, my dear,” said Kyra’s mother. She turned back to Tris. “Such a delicate little thing. You really should be feeding her more.”

  “Hi sweetie,” Ella said, approaching Tris with a coy smile. “You miss me?”

  It took him a few seconds to regain the power of speech. “But you… how did…? I don’t…”

  Kyra came to his rescue. “What he’s trying to say is, how in Sydon’s Name did you get past the Ring?”

  Ella gave a dainty shrug. “I’m sorry your Highness, but you do realise how old that technology is? The Priesthood keeps records of every sect that left Earth, and where they ended up. If we go back far enough, your ancestors are really my ancestors, too. And as for the ID system on your Ring… we invented it.”

  Kyra’s mother clapped her hands delightedly — before noticing that there was blood on them, and trying to wipe it off on her trousers. “This is lovely,” she said. “We should have some tea brought out to us.” She pitched her voice to carry. “Eva? Would you come out here my dear?”

  The tent flap opened again, and a raven-haired beauty strode out. She was dressed for combat in black tunic and pants, and every part of her bristled with weapons. Belts of ammo criss-crossed her torso, knives were strapped to her thighs and shins, and a long, two-handed sword rode her back. “My queen,” she said, bowing her head.

  Kyra’s mother gave a small gasp of dismay. “Please dear, not in public! Now be a good girl and run back to the city, would you? Fetch us all something to drink.”

  “Yes, my queen.” Eva’s dark eyes glittered as she looked at Kyra, and her lips quirked with a barely-suppressed smile. Tris realised the two women knew each other. It was hardly surprising; Eva looked every bit as dangerous as Kyra, and her outfit was liberally splattered with blood. Ella snaked an arm around Tris’ waist, startling him as he’d almost forgotten she was there.

  Holy crap, I’m surrounded by chicks with swords!

  Jen and Alek had stayed in the tank, presumably issuing orders to the long line of Laugarren transports which were slowly emerging from the forest. As they reached the stretch of open ground, the vehicles divided into groups, setting down in an orderly pattern. The first bunch of soldiers had already dismounted, and with their rifles on their backs they were approaching the citizens of Lehen.

  Knowing there was no love lost between the two groups, Tris was keeping a weather eye on the situation. It was difficult, though — not only were there far too many minds and too many roiling knots of emotion to keep track of, he was also struggling to take on board a whole boatload of new information. Like the fact that his girlfriend was right here on the surface, rather than up in space fighting Viktor’s fleet. That the battle he’d come to participate in was already over, at least for now, and that the good guys seemed to have won. And that the strange, pale-skinned people Kyra called the Ring-dwellers were here on Esper, as well. A small gathering of them had emerged from the tent, shading their eyes against the sun, and were cautiously making their way over to Kyra’s mother. Just in case things weren’t weird enough, the pasty-faced Ring-dwellers wore long, rainbow-striped wigs to compliment their togas.

  Looks like we’ll need a lot of tea, he mused, as Jen and Alek chose that moment to climb out of the hover tank and join their little gathering.

  The queen mother nearly broke down when she saw Alek loping towards her with a goofy grin on his face. She sobbed as she waved at him — an odd reaction, though probably not the oddest he’d caused. Then Tris tuned into the psychic din around him and realised that the queen mother was shamelessly raiding her son-in-law’s memory. She had the Gift too, and a prodigious talent for it; he’d barely caught a glimmer of her mood before this, and it was only the discovery that her grand-daughters were alive that had broken down her barriers.

  “Hey Miss Loreak,” Alek said, when he got close enough. “Guess what? We rescued Tarri and Jenna. They’re both hurt, but they’re safe.”

  She smiled through her tears, transforming before Tris’ eyes from a warrior queen to a traumatised grandmother. “Yes dear, that’s wonderful news.” Her hands shook as she dug a silk handkerchief from her pocket and used it to dab her eyes.

  “Your Majesty,” Jen greeted her, bowing her head. “Laugarren congratulates you on your victory. We came to stand with you, but it seems like you didn’t need us after all.”

  The queen mother sniffed, fresh tears staining her cheeks, and managed to compose herself. “The people of Laugarren are always welcome amongst us,” she said, adopting a more formal tone. Then she dropped the act and waded in to wrap Jen in a hug. It was some time before they separated.

  Both women looked ancient, though Kyra’s mother still had the proud bearing of royalty. “We’ve seen a lot, you and I,” she said, as they locked eyes.

  “That we have,” Jen agreed. “But I’m hoping that the excitement is over for a while. I’ve had enough to last a lifetime.”

  Their reunion was interrupted by a screech from the comm-chip on Alek’s belt. Puzzled, he snatched it up — as a burst of static transformed into words.

  “Zzzzzs… —fence barge— Ccrrrrfff... —amming comms— shhhhrrrr... —taking fire!”

  And the distant sound of explosions reached them.

  Tris glanced up, to see an ominous black smear in the sky, growing rapidly.

  There was only one logical explanation for that. His stomach lurched.

  Viktor had decided to crash the party.

  FORTY-THREE

  High above the forest, the stolen defence barge cruised into view. Laugarren strike ships swarmed around it like gnats, the flashes from their lasers barely visible against the brightness of the sky. The thunderclaps of their destruction were impossible to miss though, as were the flaming streaks of their wreckage plummeting to earth.

  It took Tris a second to realise that the massive barge was flying upside down. Cannons the size of semi-trailers, that he’d encountered on the upper surface of the other barge, protruded from what was now the underside, their enormous muzzles pointing at the ground.

  And at the city.

  When the first blasts strobed out — giant pillars of energy that stabbed the ground with a roar like a waterfall — the whole
atmosphere crackled and spat with excess power.

  And in an instant, there was chaos.

  Fire blossomed from the point of impact, incinerating a whole squadron of Laugarren tanks. Burning chunks of metal rained down, as people ran screaming in all directions. Vehicles shuddered to life all over the battlefield, their weapons rising to target the barge — and the giant guns spoke out again.

  “Run!” Kyra’s mother bawled. “Get to the forest!” She was waving frantically to her citizens, and those that saw her scrambled in the direction she indicated.

  More blasts struck the earth, gouging craters and flinging soil and rocks into the panicked crowd. Another shot hit a pair of transports, vaporising armoured hulls along with the men trapped inside them. Smoke billowed up, black and acrid, as the last of Laugarren’s aircraft streaked through it, guns blazing.

  It wouldn’t be enough. Not a chance.

  The barge was immense, designed to take more punishment than anything Laugarren could throw at it. Designed to dish it out, too; more of those immense cannons flared to life, pounding Kyra’s city like a meteorite shower. The ground shook, and great gouts of flame gushed up into the sky. Pain flared from countless victims, washing up against Tris so suddenly that he staggered. Death and destruction ruled the land and the sky, and he gaped at all of it, powerless to intervene.

  “We’ve got to get up there!” Kyra yelled.

  The noise was unending, the guns’ staccato boom blending with the screech of jet engines.

  Tris shook himself, recognising the truth in her words. Down here, they were sitting ducks. There was only one way to end this, and that was by finding Viktor and tearing him apart. He glanced around, but all the vehicles that had been parked nearby had taken flight. Some had been swiftly brought down again, their smouldering carcasses strewn across the landscape; others had swung into action around the edge of the city, collecting civilians and racing with them towards the safety of the forest.