Corizen Rising

by Heidi J. Leavitt

  This book is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.

  Copyright © 2011 by Heidi J. Leavitt

  ISBN 978-1461040484

  Cover & interior design by Kristy G. Stewart of Looseleaf Editorial & Production.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations in critical articles and reviews.

  Learn more about the book and the author at

  www.heidijleavitt.blogspot.com

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Prologue

  1. The Ambassador’s Wife

  2. The Steward & the Heir

  3. Lunch with Jerrapo

  4. Tiran and Markus

  5. Miscommunication

  6. Waiting

  7. One Last Meeting

  8. The Inaugural Ball

  9. The Longest Night

  10. Tiran Alone

  11. Embassy Explosion

  12. Women of the Tender Heart

  13. Recovery

  14. The Search Begins

  15. Diplomacy

  16. Two Fugitives

  17. Confidences

  18. The Traitor

  19. Zaq

  20. On the Road to Munsk

  21. Kruunde Manor

  22. Erron Unmasked

  23. Lost

  24. Allies

  25. Rewritten History

  26. Witnesses

  27. Redeeming Shelle

  28. Surrender

  29. Raiding the Den

  30. Erron’s Choice

  31. Trial by Congress

  32. The Oman of the Brotherhood

  33. Mazor Theater

  34. The Judgment

  35. Fury

  36. The Last Piece

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Preview of The Quintan Edge

  For my parents, who have always

  stuck by me no matter what.

  Prologue

  An obsession with vengeance only strengthens with time. It was a truth that Oanni Rin had learned firsthand while suffering through ten long years in the maximum security Bastalt Prison. For long periods he had endured the company of petty criminals and imbeciles, the kind of men who deserved nothing but contempt. His latest cell mate was no different. The worthless lout had wasted his time assaulting lower caste prostitutes and beggars. Oanni had done his best to ignore him for the first five days they had shared a cell, but this night the thug had apparently decided he was going to force Oanni to speak.

  During Oanni’s evening systematic exercising, he had gone so far as to knock Oanni over in the middle of his second long set of pushups. Without even thinking, Oanni had leapt to his feet, grabbed the man by his hair and slammed his face into the concrete floor of their tiny cell. Then he had returned to his next set of exercises, leaving his cellmate to slink back onto his cot while wiping blood from his nose. Oanni might look like a weak old man, easy prey to these thugs, but Oanni knew that it would only take one or two lessons and his cellmate would leave him alone. They always learned at least that much.

  These vermin were despicable. They had had the chance to serve a greater cause than themselves and what had they done with it? Thrown it away trying to satisfy their greed or violent desires. Oanni had learned to channel and focus such emotions long ago and as a result, had become far more powerful in the service of his master than these pathetic excuses for men could even dream about.

  For a moment he remembered fondly the great authority he had wielded as the steward of the King of Urok. No one had dared stand against him in anything. Then without warning everything he had achieved had been destroyed. The great empire he had labored so hard to build for his master had been leveled in one short day. Oanni had inadvertently betrayed his master by bringing an enemy into his presence. The king had been murdered and his army crippled by the actions of a slave, an insignificant girl not even half Oanni’s age. The memory still enraged him, but he cooled his anger reminding himself that eventually his time would come. Someday he would have his chance to redeem his failure.

  He was still imagining his eventual triumph over that cursed girl when a distant roar caught his ear. A commotion was coming from outside this corridor of cells, driving all thoughts of revenge from his mind. He wondered why no guard was rushing down the corridor in response and then realized that he hadn’t actually seen a guard on rounds for several hours. Instantly, he was on his feet with his face pressed to the bars, peering down the row of cells.

  Suddenly the large steel door at the end of the corridor swung open and several men wearing black jumpsuits and masks strode into the corridor. They took up post at the far end of the corridor a few feet apart from each other. Then another tall, black clad man with a swatch of red at his neck entered the room. He was not masked; his dark, appraising eyes swept the cells lining each side of the corridor. Oanni could hear the murmurs from other prisoners at the sight of the strangers.

  “Who in the name of the blue planet are they?” his cellmate whispered. Oanni didn’t bother to respond.

  The red-decked man spoke loudly to the corridor. “Prisoners of Bastalt. I command your silence. The Brotherhood has chosen to take control of this prison for the time being. We will be questioning each of you in turn, and we demand that you answer truthfully.” He said nothing more but instead proceeded to the first cell on the left side. Oanni watched the men silently, calculating how he could turn this to his advantage. A long time ago he had known several members of the Brotherhood. It had once been a smuggling organization, one that Oanni had frequently used to get off-planet luxuries for his master’s household. Now they seemed to be involved more and more in terrorist attacks and assassinations. The rumors of their new brutality had even impressed the prisoners buried in this pit. Obviously the Brotherhood had grown very powerful indeed if it was able to take control of the Bastalt Prison.

  When the man with the red badge reached their cell, his cellmate scrambled quickly back to his feet. The man pointed at him. “You, state your name and the reason for your incarceration.”

  “Incar—what?” Oanni’s ignorant cellmate stuttered, his eyes darting around like a terrified rodent.

  “Why are you here?” the man clarified shortly.

  “Oh, uh, Praul Vik. I’m in for assault.”

  “Sit,” the man commanded peremptorily. “You?” he asked, pointing at Oanni.

  “Oanni Rin,” he croaked, his voice hoarse from disuse. There was no sign of recognition from the man. How far Oanni had come down in the world! Once any smuggler with any clout would have known his name.

  “And your crime was?”

  Instead of answering Oanni chuckled hoarsely. “Do you want a list?”

  The man stared icily at him. Praul flinched, but Oanni didn’t as much as blink. What did this man think he could threaten Oanni with? He had nothing left to lose. He left the man waiting for a moment while choosing his answer. Finally he spoke, his eyes intently studying the face of his interrogator for his reaction.

  “I think the official conviction was for kidnapping and treason against the people of Corizen. But I think it was really for serving my master too well.” The man’s eyes narrowed, and he seemed to be considering Oanni thoughtfully.

  “Who was your master?”

  “Jaory Kruunde.” Oanni watched the comprehension dawn in the man’s eyes. Of c
ourse he knew who Jaory Kruunde was. Everyone knew the name of the last Denicorizen king.

  “Indeed.” He crooked a finger at the man standing guard to his right. The guard pulled out a key ring and unlocked the door. “Please step out, Rin. We would like to discuss this further with you.”

  Oanni followed the smugglers out of his prison cell eagerly. It hardly mattered to him what the Brotherhood would want from him in return. At last he would be free to retaliate against the woman who had stolen everything from him.

  1. The Ambassador’s Wife

  Andrea Morten sprawled on her bed with an abandon that she didn’t often feel anymore. Sometimes living such a public life took its toll. She had made yet another appearance at a big charity event. Roma, as the capital city of Corizen, was filled with such things, and most of them nowadays wanted someone connected to the Planetary Union to be there. Her husband Casey was the ambassador to the planet from the Union but he just didn’t have time to attend all of these functions. So instead, she often made appearances and speeches about goodwill between Citizens of the Planetary Union and Denicorizens, the people of Corizen. It wasn’t boring exactly, but it was tiring.

  “Mom, there’s something on the terminal you might want to see.”

  She looked up to see her daughter Tiran standing in the doorway. “Come on in, Tiran. I was just crashing for a few minutes.”

  Tiran came in and flopped on the bed next to her mother. “It’s from that history site—the ‘Modern Myths’ show.”

  Andie sighed and flicked the remote at her terminal. A holographic image sprung to life in front of the screen.

  “And so we return to today’s modern myth question: Is Sirra Bruche real or just a legend?” queried the show’s host, a willowy brunette with her trademark look of disbelief. Tiran giggled at her side. Andie was faintly amused herself. The view switched to old videos of public demonstrations and fighting in the streets of Roma.

  “Ten years ago, revolution swept our beloved Corizen,” explained the narrator dramatically. “The staunch seeker for justice, Morek-Li Damato, had ignited a wildfire which raged through Roma. The King had exerted his terrifying power to strike out and kill even the most heroic members of Damato’s Resistance Movement, like Laeren Bruche and Forsyth Rane. Yet the Revolution furor continued unabated, finally toppling the tyrant from his throne. However, just when Corizen seemed to have achieved freedom at last, a new tyrant arose. Jaory Kruunde from the Blue Plains declared himself king over the continent of Urok.”

  The pictures switched to scenes of devastation from Kruundin City. Andie shuddered. The pictures must have been taken in the last days before the siege on the city ended. All the people looked emaciated and haunted.

  “At this time, the widow of Laeren Bruche, who was supposedly a Union Citizen, just happened to be in Kruundin City.” Andie could hear the heavy skepticism in the woman’s tone. “We are told she alone was resourceful and brave enough to sneak a homing device into the command center of Kruunde’s own fortress. This beacon allowed the Union military might, the dreaded Armada, to send a shock blast directed exactly at Kruunde’s location, killing him and all around him. So the last threat to freedom was destroyed.”

  “But did it really happen?”

  Andie watched in amusement as the program went on to explore the theory that “Sirra Bruche” was really a code name for a secret espionage program of the Armada.

  They explained that after the revolution, the woman they were told was Sirra Bruche disappeared and was never heard from again.

  “And what of the former Resistance members who supposedly worked directly with Sirra Bruche?” the host posed. “Modern Myths has tried repeatedly to confirm the existence of Sirra Bruche with Planetary Congress members Bret Ka and Thane Navaro. Both Representatives were high-ranking members of Damato’s Resistance and supposedly had personal interaction with Sirra Bruche. Representative Navaro simply insisted that Sirra Bruche had indeed left the planet after the revolution and that he knows nothing further. Representative Ka refused to speak with us at all.”

  Andie shook her head. “Good old Bret,” she laughed. “He was never one to put up with this kind of stuff.”

  The program went on to note the suspicious lack of any photographic evidence that Sirra Bruche was a real person, and the questionable nature of any witnesses who stated they knew her. It wrapped up with a sinister insinuation that the Armada had continued the secret espionage and was even now perhaps preparing to take over Corizen.

  “Well, that wasn’t propaganda against the Armada was it?” Andie asked sarcastically as she switched off the terminal.

  “I think it’s just too funny, Mom,” laughed Tiran. “You’re not even dead yet and you’re a myth. What does that make me?”

  “Well, at least they didn’t go the route of finding out who Sirra Bruche really is. Those are the ones that make me nervous. They can pretend I don’t exist all they want.” Andie rolled onto her back and closed her eyes. The pictures of Kruundin City were etched in her mind. She could almost feel her stomach cramping in response, just as if she were starving once again in the days during the siege. She had spent months sick with fear and hunger in the war zone of Kruundin City. Ten years, she told herself, It’s been ten years. Let it go.

  “It would be fun to see that lady’s face if she knew that Sirra Bruche has been in front of her the whole time,” Tiran commented with relish. “After all you did, Mom, they pretend it didn’t even happen. You saved all those lives.” She sounded a little bitter.

  Andie sat up. “Oh, honey, you know I don’t care about that stuff. It’s far more important to me that we stay anonymous. Your father has enough pressure on him as it is.” She put her arm around Tiran’s shoulder.

  The terminal chimed a priority code with a special tone.

  “Speaking of your father . . .” Andie picked up the remote and answered the terminal from the bed. “Hi, sweetheart. How are you?” Her husband Casey’s face appeared in the terminal.

  “Hi, Tiran,” he greeted quickly. “Andie, the Bastalt Prison has been taken over by the Brotherhood. I want you and Tiran to stay at home until the security troops get the situation under control. I have a feeling it’s going to be a long night for me. Don’t wait up,” he directed.

  “Sure, honey. I love you.”

  “Love you both. Tiran, go to bed!” He smiled and switched off.

  Tiran turned to Andie with a pout. “Mom, you can’t possibly expect me to go to bed right now!” Andie was lost in thought. The Brotherhood had taken over the Bastalt Prison! What could they possibly want with the prison? Was their latest terrorist act going to be involving the criminals? It would hardly have the effect they were looking for. Most people weren’t likely to worry about the safety of maximum security felons.

  “Mom!” Tiran’s voice recalled her to the present.

  “No, climb up on the bed with me. We’ll see if we can find a news report.”

  They spent the next couple of hours sifting through news sites, trying to find out something new. The news crews were all stationed around the prison but the security forces didn’t let them get too close. They only had video footage of the outside of the fortress, and there simply wasn’t much to see. Tiran was already asleep when Andie finally drifted off.

  She woke to sunlight peeking in through the slats in the window blinds. Tiran was snoring softly, one arm hanging off the bed. Andie blinked to clear her bleary eyes and looked at the terminal, which was still on. A reporter was speaking in front of the gray hulking mass of the prison.

  “Fourteen casualties have been reported so far from last night’s prison takeover by an unknown group. The mass majority are believed to be prison security officers but at least two were inmates.” Andie turned up the volume a bit. Tiran stirred in her sleep.

  “The Brotherhood has not officially claimed responsibility for the prison takeov
er, and we have no idea what was the motive. However, we repeat, the Roma riot troops were dispatched and now have full control of the prison. We will keep you updated as more information becomes available.”

  Andie lowered the volume again and pulled herself out of bed and stretched. No point in trying to find out more from the news. At some point Casey would return and he was likely to have the most accurate information.

  She had showered and was sitting down to breakfast when Casey finally came in. His hair was tousled, and his eyes were red. He kissed the top of her head and slumped into a chair.

  “Want something to eat?” she asked, getting up from the table.

  Casey shook his head. “No, I just need to get some rest. Give me six hours at least. Then I’ll tell you all about it. What we know anyway.”

  ♦

  Eight hours later, Casey and Andie sat at the kitchen table together. The kitchen table was where they always had their serious discussions. It worried her that he wanted to discuss this here at the table without Tiran present. Usually Casey wasn’t much involved in security issues on Corizen. Yet when Casey had given her all the details he knew from the prison attack last night, Andie could find nothing in the news that was so important the Ambassador needed to be involved. It seemed to be just another incomprehensible move by the Brotherhood. Andie traced her finger on the wood grain of the table and thought of what Casey had just told her.

  “So, the Brotherhood broke into the prison to recruit members, most likely. Why the prison? Can’t they just get people off the street?”

  Casey ran his fingers through his hair. It was a nervous habit of his, and obviously he had been doing it a lot lately. His hair practically stood straight up. “I know, it sounds crazy. We can’t even be sure which prisoners are missing or how many. They destroyed the prison’s paperwork on the inmates. Not like it was up-to-date anyway. Why can’t these people just go digital?”

  Andie sighed. “You know there’s no money for that sort of thing on Corizen, Casey. Nobody cares about the prisons when they are trying to feed their families.”