Warlord Conquering (The Great Insurrection Book 3)

by David Beers

  He turned to look at her, seeing the concern on her face. "Oh, I'm just talking, babe. Don't listen to me. I drank too much of that wine."

  Servia turned her head and stared at the planet. She was drunk, yes, but she didn't agree with him. The AllMother was good. The AllMother's choices allowed individuals to once again flourish. In her current state, she could only feel those things. She couldn't put them into words.

  Tears came to her eyes. She'd never thought her parents had sacrificed her for this movement. She didn't want to consider it.

  "Come here," Appius said and pulled her closer to him. She let herself be enveloped in his arms. "I didn't mean to upset you. I'm drunk, and I'm angry at them, I guess. That's all. I wish I was closer to them."

  Servia fell asleep in his arms that night, and when they woke, they had to rush to make it to their dorms without getting caught. She had something she'd only heard about, a hangover, and much of what Appius had told her was forgotten. Getting through the day became the name of the game, and the words they'd exchanged the previous night had nothing to do with that.

  About six months later, she finally remembered what had been said.

  The attack on the moon came two hours before dawn. There was no warning. Later they would know it had been an inside job. Someone in their movement had revealed the base's coordinates because, without them, the Commonwealth wouldn't have been able to find them. The moon was too big and their footprint too small.

  Titans fell like rain. They came with their MechPulses and their Whips. Young or old, they cared not. They killed indiscriminately, and Servia had woken to screams. The Titans were in her building.

  She jumped out of bed as the other girls in her dorm room screamed in fear. Servia had known she was different from the girls she lived with. She quickly hushed them and made it known fear wouldn't be tolerated.

  "If we want to live, we have to keep our wits."

  She'd slowly opened the door to their room. The lights on her side of the hall were off, while those farther down were flickering. She didn't see anything dangerous. She looked back into the dark room. "Come on. We've got to hurry."

  Servia was terrified, but she couldn't let it consume her. She'd known they were at war almost since she'd been able to walk. She had trained her whole life for this, and now it had come. She knew her duty. Get to safety. Help people if she could, but get to safety.

  She and her family were valuable to the AllMother in ways the others here weren't. She didn't know why, only that the AllMother thought so, and she believed it.

  Appius was the same. He was to get to safety.

  Both of them knew where to go if something like this happened. Everyone on the moon did, but not everyone on the moon was prepared to get there. Many of them were like the girls Servia roomed with.

  The group followed her into the corridor. She moved quickly, her bare feet making almost no noise on the floor. She took the far stairs, heading down toward the nearest exit.

  Her mind kept going to Appius as her feet carried her down level after level. Was he okay? Would he make it to an escape pod? She didn't consider that he would come looking for her. They both understood what was expected and what must be done. This was war. They were at war. There were rules and a code to follow.

  Yet when she reached the bottom floor, she understood why she'd made it so far. The Titans wouldn't leave a staircase unattended for the very reason Servia was now demonstrating—someone might escape.

  The Titan lay dead, half inside the building, half out. Appius stood in the corner, the weapon he’d used in his hands. Servia stopped and stared at the Titan. She saw how Appius had done it, and she couldn't imagine the fear he must have felt. How the hell he'd managed, she didn't know.

  Her eyes went to him and the weapon. It was what farmers used to kill the massive cow-like creatures bred on these moons. They put it against the beast's head, and a ten-inch stake shot out and obliterated the animal's brain. Somehow Appius had crept behind this Titan and used the weapon on his neck.

  Appius stepped out of the dark corner. "We've got to hurry. They're everywhere."

  "You're a fool," Servia said. "What in the hell are you doing here?"

  He ignored her and stepped over the Titan into the crisp night. She grabbed his shoulder, honestly pissed at what he'd done. "Why didn't you get to the pods?"

  "Because I fucking love you." She saw that he meant it. He loved her in a way her parents didn’t, and in a way she could probably never love him. At that moment, despite the death all around her, everything was clear: who she was, who she would be. Appius had shown her who she should be.

  He started moving again, heading to the fields, where it would be too dark for the Titans to see them. Hopefully, they wouldn't look that way, and there would be pods left when they arrived.

  The small group moved across the field, though one of the girls was starting to lag. Appius turned to help her, but Servia shook her head. She said nothing else. They both knew the rules. Get to safety. Get to safety. Get to safety.

  That was all that mattered.

  They ran. Eventually, two of the other girls fell behind. Servia never found out what had happened to them.

  "There they are." Servia came to a stop, putting one hand on her knees while pointing about a half-mile in the distance. The launches were stealthed, but from this distance and angle, she could see them. "We're almost there."

  They ran faster than they had before. Faster than Servia thought possible. They ran for their very lives, knowing death could grab them at any moment. They had closed half the distance when it happened, and everything moved in slow motion for Servia.

  She heard the noise first, a high-pitched whistle that suddenly stopped.

  Next, she felt the blood. She didn't know what it was at first, only that something warm and wet hit the side of her face.

  She looked to her right, where the noise and blood had come from. One of her roommates lay on the ground, the back of her head caved in.

  "RUN!" Servia shouted. She had no doubt what had caused the girl’s death: a Titan sniper.

  She took off, and while Appius could have run faster than her, he didn't. He stayed with her.

  Servia saw he was slowing down and getting behind her. "FUCKING GO! SPEED UP!" she screamed, but he said nothing, just ran behind her, almost on top of her but not quite.

  She knew what he was doing—trying to stop the next shot from hitting her.

  Servia heard the whistle and did the only thing she could think of: she fell forward, spreading her hands out in front of her. Her face hit the grass, and she felt something lying on her leg. Not something, but someone. She knew who it was and that the projectile had killed him.

  Appius was dead, and if she looked at him, she'd see his head caved in like her roommate's.

  Moving would mean death for her, though. Her only hope for survival was in lying still in this grass, hardly breathing. They had to think the single shot had killed them both.

  Practically in shock, Servia didn't move for hours. Sometimes she heard shrieks from afar, but she didn't flinch. She didn't know if anyone was watching. She didn't know if they were walking across the field now, ready to stab those legendary Whips through her back.

  The sun was rising when someone finally came for her. They weren't dressed in MechGear but ripped clothing, and they had dirt covering their faces and bodies.

  "Hurry," the woman said. "There's one pod left. The directive was we can’t leave until we find you or your body."

  Servia didn't understand what the woman was saying. "Get down," she whispered harshly. "They’ll see you."

  The woman grabbed her hand and ripped her off the ground. Servia desperately turned to look at Appius, and what she saw was forever burned into her brain.

  He was dead, his head caved in and dried blood on the grass around him. She saw bits of bone and stuff that looked like brains. His beautiful dark skin was much paler.

  "COME ON!" the woman shouted
in her ear, breaking Servia out of her trance.

  The two sprinted to the last remaining pod. As they lifted off the rock, Servia stared at her first love. There would be no burial, not even one into space. His body would rot there until some beast came and ate him.

  He'd died for her.

  Chapter Eight

  “Prometheus doesn’t understand what he is to become.”

  —The AllMother

  Servia sat with one leg crossed over the other, almost as calm as she'd been when the story started. Softer, perhaps. Pro was still leaning forward and looking her in the eyes. "If he'd done what he was supposed to, he'd probably still be alive today. Maybe we'd have broken up, or maybe we'd have stayed together, but he'd be alive, and that matters to me because Appius made this universe better."

  Pro was quiet for some moments, then he looked down at his boots. "What about when you came here to rescue me?"

  "You gave us no choice," Servia responded. "It wasn't out of love for you. It was in service of this mission. Her mission. The thing so many people have already given their lives for. If you weren't crucial to this movement, I wouldn't have come."

  He nodded, still staring at his boots. "Do you remember on Pluto when I found you trying to make it to the portal? I had the AllMother over my shoulder. They were about to burn the whole place. Do you remember that?"

  "I do."

  He raised his head and met her cool gaze. "You were helping an injured person walk to the portal. I don't know who that person was, which means they can't be crucial to the movement. Yet, when you were young, you let your friends fall by the wayside as you rushed to the pods. There's a difference you're not accounting for."

  Servia opened her mouth to speak, though she didn't know what she was going to say. She didn't have an answer because she hadn't realized the difference until now. She had seen someone who needed her help and simply picked the person up.

  Pro raised a hand to stop her from talking. "Look, I don't want an explanation. My point is, you've changed since then, even if you didn't want to. What that young man did was one of the most courageous things I've ever heard about. You may not think what he did helped the movement, but here you are, a leader in it. You would have died in that field otherwise."

  Pro stood up and moved over to the wall, his back to her. The drathe watched as he walked, not taking his eyes off his master. "If you came here to ask me if I would sacrifice all of you to see my wife again, the answer is yes. I would. I would burn this whole universe to ash if it meant I could lay with her one more time." He turned, his face set. "Nothing will ever change that, Servia. I would go further than Appius, by a long, long way. What matters is, will that happen? Will I be faced with a choice of seeing her or giving you all up?" He shook his head. "No. I won't. The Ascendant might offer something like that, but he would never mean it. He wants to see me dead, and most likely my wife as well. There will be no truce. No quarter. Even now, he’s trying to make me do something stupid by showing her to me, but I didn't come into this room to think about how I might surrender. I came here to consider how we might still overcome."

  He took a step forward.

  "The only way I see my wife again is by killing him. Do you understand that?"

  Servia's voice was a whisper. "I think I do."

  "Good."

  He looked like he might be about to say something else, but an AI's voice interrupted. "Someone would like to speak to you, sir."

  "Put them through," Pro said.

  Relm's voice came over the comm. "Broth, we've got a fucking problem."

  Thoreaux's ear was bleeding from the assassin's blow. He didn't know if his eardrum had ruptured, but the side of his head hurt like hell. He hadn't mouthed off since she'd clouted him, but his fear was growing despite his silence.

  They were now in the brig's elevator, and Thoreaux was cursing himself for repairing the thing. He should have let Pro beat the hell out of this bitch, because they were heading down to the Primuses.

  The elevator stopped. The man and woman were both lying down, looking at the newcomers.

  Thoreaux watched their eyes widen as they saw him with the Whip to his back and the bitch standing behind him.

  She reached to the non-broken side of the elevator and opened both cells. "Let's hurry, darlings. I don't know how much time we have, but I don't think the modified one is going to be as friendly with his accommodations if we're caught."

  Both Primuses got to their feet. The man, Ares, hopped across the space first. The woman—Thoreaux thought her name was Veena—waited until they were situated before bounding across.

  Hel handed Ares the second Whip she'd forced Thoreaux to get. The crimson one. Ares took it, his eyes unreadable.

  "Thank you."

  "That's all you have to say, darling?" Hel asked. "Never mind. There may be time for a celebration later if we hurry."

  The woman’s pockets were full of stimpacks and morphoids. She'd be keeping herself moving and the pain at bay for days with those.

  The elevator started up, taking only seconds to reach the top level. Hel forced Thoreaux off first, then stepped off quickly. The Titan unfurled his Whip, letting the three strands drop almost to the ground. "Where are we going?" he asked.

  Veena answered. "The one pod they can't catch up to. It's the only way." She turned her gaze on Thoreaux. "Do they know where it is?"

  Thoreaux might have learned to keep from mouthing off after the blow to his head, but it hadn't scared him enough to tell them a godsdamn thing.

  Hel slapped him across the face, drawing blood from his lips. "Answer."

  Thoreaux spat the blood on the deck, then met the bitch's eyes. He kept silent.

  "There will be time for torture later, dear," Hel said. She turned her attention to Veena. "It doesn't matter. It's the only chance. Let's go."

  Alistair stood in the brig with Servia, Faitrin, and Relm. They had their weapons drawn, but no one to aim them at.

  "Faitrin, are they still on the ship?" Alistair asked.

  The pilot's eyes were grayed over as she harmonized with the AI. "I believe so. I'm trying to trace Thoreaux's movements. It was easy enough to follow him in the beginning, but they may have a pilot with them now. I can't tell. Someone is masking it."

  Alistair turned his attention to Servia. "Can the AllMother help us?"

  Faitrin interrupted. "No. They've got the blocks up again. That's another reason I think they have a pilot with them, someone who can control a lot of the ship."

  "Can you shut them down?" Alistair's voice was tense—not quite a yell, but close.

  "No. They're reprogramming the AI right now. With the Primus back, they're gaining control."

  Alistair paused for a second, shoving his temper down. "This is the most important question I am going to ask you, Faitrin. I need a straight answer. Are they trying to take command of the ship again?"

  The pilot was quiet for much longer than Alistair wanted. He kept his mouth closed, though, knowing she was doing everything she could to get the correct answer.

  She finally responded, "No. They're not."

  "There's only one place they're going, then."

  Alistair took off toward the pod bay. He didn't look behind, didn't care if they could catch up with him. His only thought was of Thoreaux, his second-in-command, the man he needed above all others.

  The others fell behind, unable to keep up.

  Alistair rounded the last corner.

  The pod bay door was open.

  He unleashed his Whip as he rushed to the opening.

  The pod was gone and with it Thoreaux.

  The AllMother, Alex, looked at her protégé. He was the first she'd ever considered calling a protégé. All the others who had served her, some dying of old age, most from unnatural causes, were only the means to an end, the end being him.

  As she watched him pacing in front of her, she felt pride. She couldn't tell him, of course. Not now. Maybe not ever. He would think her insane
with everything collapsing around him.

  He'd even adopted Thoreaux's mannerism, pacing across the room instead of sitting as usual.

  Pro didn't stop as he spoke. "What do we do? Don't tell me you don't know. Right now, I need your guidance because our only bargaining chips with the Commonwealth just left us, and they took one of this movement's most important people with them."

  The AllMother was quiet, not letting his frustration and anger disturb her. She didn't glance at Servia. She didn't need to. Her modifications were coming back now, her health returning. She didn't know if it'd been the contact with her brother or simply the time she’d been awake.

  Either way, Servia was distraught. Relm was fearful. Faitrin, the new pilot, was putting all her faith in Prometheus.

  "I'm not being flippant," the AllMother said, "but I don't know what to do. I'm not omnipotent. If I'm not actively using my abilities, I don't see things, just like I missed what was happening with Thoreaux. The decision is yours to make. I honestly don't even know where to start."

  Pro stopped walking at that statement and turned to her with his hands on his waist. He stared at the old woman with an expression near disdain. The AllMother shrugged.

  She knew the truth. This was a difficult choice, but there would be many more to come, some harder than this. If they were to do what she'd set out to do, this was only the beginning of his choices.

  Thoreaux might have to die. The AllMother never guaranteed anyone life, only the chance to change the universe.

  Pro turned from the AllMother and looked at the other three in the room. "Faitrin, do we have any idea where they're going?"

  The pilot shook her head.

  Pro walked over to the nearest seat and collapsed into it, then leaned back and put his hand to his brow. "If that psycho is in charge, which I bet she is, I need to figure out what she would do. I don't have any damn time to think."

  Alex could feel his frustration almost baking off him.