Kill the Queen! (Chaos of the Covenant Book 4)

by M. R. Forbes

  “My orders were to engage General Kett’s fleet.”

  “And you did. Guess what? You lost.”

  “If I agree to this, how do you know I won’t turn the crew against you?”

  “You’re going to give me your word. I’m going to trust that it’s good. Beyond that? Do you want to try to take over again? You can try.” Gant shrugged. “If you want to get all of your individuals killed. They won’t be re-armed.”

  “Then we’re still prisoners.”

  “Technically, I suppose,” Gant agreed. “But it still beats being confined to the cargo holds. There are no latrines in the cargo holds, Captain. Can you imagine what that would smell like in a couple of days?”

  Davlyn didn’t look happy, but he did look resigned. Gant would take it.

  “Bring me to my crew. Let me make sure they’re being taken care of.”

  “Of course. Cherub, can you bring Captain Davlyn to the hangar?”

  “Yes, Gant.”

  “Take your time,” Gant said. “When you’re ready to play along, let me know. We’re going to Bain regardless, but we’d prefer not to have to babysit you and yours. The galaxy is about to fall apart, Captain. Don’t let it.”

  Davlyn looked away, toward an empty spot between them. Then he pushed himself off the table. “I know how to get to the hangar,” he said. “I don’t need an escort.”

  Jequn glanced over at Gant, who nodded.

  “Help yourself, Captain,” she said, motioning toward the door. He didn’t look back at them as he left.

  “Do you think he’ll go for it?” Bastion asked.

  “Yes,” Gant replied. “If only to begin plotting a mutiny, but I expect the things he’ll see before he has the chance will change his mind.”

  “So what do we do now?” Phlenel asked.

  “Enjoy the ride,” Gant said. “We’ll be back to Azure in twelve hours.”

  “Hey, Cherub,” Bastion said. “You want to go raid the mess? Pik said they have ice cream.”

  “Really?” Jequn said, smiling. “You’re on.”

  “Want some ice cream, Gant?” Bastion asked.

  “I’ll pass.”

  “You don’t like ice cream? We all scream for ice cream.”

  “Gant can’t taste sweet. It’s like sloppy, high-calorie air to us.”

  “That sucks. Well, if we come across anything especially disgusting, I’ll be sure to let you know.”

  “You’re too kind.”

  Bastion and Jequn left. Gant followed behind soon after. Twelve hours. He was sure he could find some system to optimize or update or improve.

  Anything to keep his mind busy.

  Anything to keep him away from his memories or from worrying about Abbey.

  Sometimes it sucked to be a Gant.

  35

  Abbey nearly fell over the roots of the tree beside her. She had pulled the arrow out as quickly as she could, but the effect of the poison seemed stronger this time. Cumulative? Or was it because of where it had hit her, entering her bloodstream more readily? Either way, she was having a hard time staying upright.

  She let herself fall over the next large root, taking cover there. All she needed was time. A few minutes and the Gift would clear the poison out, and she would be good as new. She drew her Uin from her tightpacks, along with a teleporter. She placed the device nearby, covering it with some debris. Just in case she needed a quick escape.

  She sat for a few seconds. She felt hot and cold at the same time. Her breathing was fierce. She could taste the Atmo’s blood in her mouth. She was as angry as she had ever been. As desperate, too. It wasn’t her time to die.

  She gathered herself, getting back to her feet at the same time three soldiers appeared ahead of her, moving quickly through the trees in her direction. They knew exactly where she was. How? She knew how. The poison probably had something in it to make it trackable, too. A radioactive isotope? She tried to gather the Gift, to prepare herself for the fight. It was a challenge. She was losing her strength. Losing the Gift. She had used too much.

  “Lieutenant Cage.”

  The voice came from her left. A woman’s voice. She turned that way. The woman was wearing a black lightsuit, blonde and lean with an amused expression on her freckled face.

  “Who are you?” Abbey said.

  “Venerant Elivee,” the woman replied, bowing slightly. “Gloritant Thraven sends his regards.”

  She threw her hands out. Abbey couldn’t react quickly enough. She was thrown backward, slamming into the tree and falling to her knees.

  “She’s mine,” a rough voice said.

  Abbey looked up. The mercenary was there, close to Elivee.

  “Finders keepers, Quark,” Elivee replied. “I never promised I would let you kill her.”

  “Don’t you go crossing me, woman. You’ll regret it.”

  Elivee rolled her eyes. “Fine. She’s all yours.”

  The poison was wearing off again. The Gift was beginning to burn along her skin, sensing the desperation of her situation. She could feel a second sensation now, a coldness from the spot on her neck where the Hell brand had been placed and the Light of the Shard had settled. It seemed to be mingling with the Gift.

  The mercenary walked past Elivee. He was holding his bow knocked and ready. She could see the rhodrinium tip of the arrow was glistening with the poison.

  “I thought you would be a little more of a challenge, Cage,” Quark said. “Dom Pallimo of the Crescent Haulers wanted you to know he was the one who sent me. He’s planning to mount your head on a plaque and display it in his office.” He had been smiling, but now his smile started to fade. “I owe you for Griff, too. He wasn’t just my right-hand, he was my friend, and you bit his fragging throat out. Once you can’t move, I’ll make sure it hurts. A lot.”

  He loosed the arrow. It hit Abbey in the chest, pushing her back against the tree.

  Crescent Haulers? He had to be fragging kidding. Damn Sergeant Coli. That fragger. She looked down at the shaft emerging from her body. Her anger was growing. Her body was on fire. She felt the poison only briefly before it seemed to burn away.

  Quark pulled a long knife from his hip, still walking toward her.

  “I didn’t attack the Haulers,” Abbey said. “Your boss has it wrong.”

  “Prove it.”

  “Let me go and I can.”

  “Pathetic,” Elivee said. “Die with some dignity, Cage, not lying to try to save yourself.”

  “No lie,” Abbey said. The Gift was everywhere within her, warming her, feeding her. Let him get a little bit closer. “I can tell you where we left the Devastator. You can see for yourself.”

  Quark shook his head. “Nope. Too late. Maybe if you hadn’t killed Griff.”

  He was only a few meters away.

  “Sir, you might want to be careful,” one of the other soldiers said. “Trackers aren’t reading the isotope.”

  “What?” Quark said, turning his head.

  Abbey exploded.

  The Gift lashed out around her, a wave of energy that flared so bright that it blinded the soldiers before it slammed into them. In an instant, the three mercenaries nearby were sliced in half by the power, cut down before they could scream. Quark was thrown backward, while Elivee screamed and raised a shield of her own. The power continued, slicing into the brush and trees, cutting clean through. The forest collapsed ahead of her, an echoing chaos that reverberated across the landscape.

  Abbey reached down and pulled the arrow from her body. Then she began walking forward. She was on fire, a white flame that sat on top of her form, flickering and beaming.

  “What are you?” Elivee said, her voice fearful.

  Abbey held her hand out, and the fire spewed forth toward the Venerant. She threw herself aside, barely avoiding the attack.

  Quark was on his feet. He had survived. How? He started backing away, as his other men began to appear nearby, opening fire on her. The bullets were lost in the flames. Absorb
ed. She lashed out at them, the Gift twisting them where they stood, breaking their bodies apart.

  “Retreat,” she heard Quark shout. “Cover.”

  She heard the dropship closing in. She could feel her fury beginning to wane. She couldn’t use this much for very long. She lowered her hand. Let them run. She needed them to go. Now.

  The dropship appeared, moving in from the clouds toward the area she had just cleared. Quark and his soldiers were retreating. Where was Elivee?

  The dropship started firing on her, large caliber bullets chewing up the ground ahead of her and racing her way. She put up her hands, raising a white wall of energy ahead of her that the rounds slammed into but didn’t pass beyond. It continued for nearly thirty seconds, each one of them leaving Abbey feeling more and more drained.

  Suddenly, it stopped. The dropship turned and rose, moving away from her, vanishing quickly from sight. Her energy went with it. The flames extinguished from her skin, and she fell forward again, landing on her hands and knees. She was cold. So cold. Her whole body shook. She was nauseous.

  “So close,” Elivee said. “You almost escaped.”

  Abbey saw the woman’s foot appear in front of her face. She lifted her head one more time. Elivee bent down and picked up one of the Uin.

  “The flames,” Elivee continued. “They remind me of legends. Stories of the past. Elysium. The One. The Shard. But you’re no Shard. You’re just a woman. A human woman. A Lesser. And this is where your legend ends.”

  She raised the Uin.

  Something hit her from the side. Something so fast it was only a blur to Abbey.

  She turned her head, tracking the attack. Elivee had vanished behind another large trunk, but Abbey could hear her grunting and shouting and then crying out in pain. What the hell had assaulted the Venerant with such ferocity and speed that it took her completely off guard?

  She struggled to get to her feet. Whatever it was, it would probably come for her next. She didn’t want to be here when it did. She couldn’t move very well. Instead, she reached into her tightpack and withdrew another teleporter. She threw it like a disc, tossing it into the distance. Its pair was only a few steps away. It was the best she could do.

  She shrank back as a wave of flame launched away from where the Venerant had vanished, setting fire to some of the trees. Then she forced herself upright to make the steps forward, entering the teleporter and coming out fifty meters away. She collapsed as she fell through.

  Too weak. She was too damn weak. She needed food. She needed time.

  She pushed herself up on her arms, looking back over her shoulder. She didn’t see any sign of Elivee or the thing that had attacked her. Maybe it had taken the Venerant and left? Could she have that much dumb luck?

  She lowered herself onto her back, looking up at the trees. The canopy was so dense she could barely see through it. The clouds had gone away, leaving a small bit of pale purple sky. She breathed heavily, trying to catch up. Her whole body hurt.

  She heard a branch snap to her left. Then another. Footsteps. Smooth. Even. Someone was coming.

  She turned her head slowly, a sense of fear and confusion pouring through her when she saw what was approaching.

  It was like a mech or a bot. A humanoid armor composed of hundreds of overlapping greaves that covered it from toe to head. It had no mouth. It had no visible eyes, though the space between the bands was larger in that area.

  It was carrying Venerant Elivee. The woman’s neck hung awkwardly from her body, her spine broken and detached and remaining connected only by the flesh of the neck.

  Abbey fought to get to her feet. To back away. What was this thing? And why had it brought Elivee to her?

  The bot dropped the Venerant in front of Abbey.

  “Feed,” it said. Its voice was heavily synthesized, but also vaguely familiar. Abbey felt like she had heard it before.

  Obviously, it knew what the Gift was. It knew she was weak. It wanted her to be strong. Was this thing an ally? It had saved her life. It certainly seemed like one.

  She looked down at the Venerant. She didn’t want to do that again, especially when she would be absorbing more of the Gift. It would accelerate her change. It would destroy her faster.

  “No,” she said.

  “Feed,” it said again.

  Abbey shook her head. “No.”

  It jumped over the body, grabbing her arm and throwing her toward it. “Feed,” it said again, more insistent.

  Abbey leaned over Elivee.

  “I don’t want to gut you while you’re in this state,” it said. “I want a fair fight, Cage, and I will have it. Drink this bitch’s blood. Get your strength back. Then I will kill you for killing me.”

  Abbey’s heart froze as she finally recognized the voice. It seemed impossible, but based on what it had just said, she knew it was true. She knew who this thing was, or at least who it thought it was.

  “Trinity Gall?” she said.

  36

  “What’s left of Trinity Gall,” it replied. “A machine. A thing. A ghost in a shell.”

  “Ursan saved your head after I removed it,” Abbey said.

  “My head didn’t survive. The brain. Only the brain. That was all the Lrug could use. He told me everything he knew. How Ursan hired the Plixian to put me back together and bring me back to life. How he was captured by Thraven, and how Thraven kept him on the task, eager to return me to the fold. How the Fire crashed on this planet, and when Thraven returned he didn’t even come to see if I was intact. He took his Font and left, and I was forgotten.”

  “But it worked. You were brought back.”

  “For what purpose? To what end? I left the Fire behind after picking up activity on its sensors. I’ve been wandering out here for days, looking for the source.” She paused. There was no expression on her shell. No way of guessing at her thoughts or emotions. “Instead, I found you.” She leaned forward, grabbing Abbey’s shoulder and pushing her closer to Elivee. “I want you to drink, Abigail Cage. I want you strong.”

  “Or what?” Abbey asked. “You’ll kill me?”

  “I’ll do worse than that.”

  “I’m not your enemy,” Abbey said. “I never was.”

  Trin laughed. “You killed Ursan.”

  “You know?”

  “Villaueve told me what happened on Anvil.”

  “How could he? He wasn’t there.”

  “He told me, and I believed it. Are you saying you didn’t kill him?”

  Abbey hesitated. “No, I’m not saying that. I did kill him. But I didn’t want to. I-”

  Trin grabbed the back of her head, kneeling as she shoved her face down and forward, at the same time using her other hand to cut open Elivee’s neck. A line of blood formed around it and Abbey found her mouth shoved against it. She tried to move her head, but Trin’s grip was inhumanly strong, and she was too weak.

  “Take it,” Trinity said. “You know you want to, Cage. I know how the Gift works. I know the temptation. You can’t deny it forever.”

  Abbey could feel the urge stirring within her. She had done it already in the Seraphim complex. She had promised herself she wouldn’t do it again. But she could feel the thick blood on her lips, spread there by Trinity’s pressure. It was gritty. Thick with naniates. She could smell it, too. How much strength could she gain by taking in the Venerant’s blood? How much faster would she devolve into madness?

  “Take it,” Trin repeated.

  Abbey couldn’t breathe, her face was shoved so tightly against Elivee’s neck.

  She felt a sudden coldness against her back. Trinity was cutting open her demonsuit from behind. A moment later, she sliced into her flesh. Once. Twice. Three times. Each one going deeper and causing more pain. The Gift healed it, and then she cut her again.

  “How much of this can you take, Abigail?” Trinity asked. “How much pain? How much torture? I want to make you strong. I want to give you a chance to survive. I want a fair fight. A fair attempt
at revenge and redemption. Why do you resist that?”

  She lifted Abbey’s head away to allow her to respond.

  “You don’t need to do this,” Abbey said. “I killed Ursan, but I didn’t want to. I tried to warn him about Thraven. I tried to bring him to my side. He wouldn’t listen. He would have killed me.”

  Trinity shoved her head back into Elivee’s neck. “He should have killed you. This is your fault, Cage. All your fault.”

  The blood was spilling out of the Venerant, enough of it spreading that it slipped under Abbey’s lips against her will. The faintest taste on her tongue. Perhaps a few thousand naniates. Her heart began to race, her body warming from within. She wanted it. Right now, she needed it. She couldn’t expect Trinity to listen to reason. Not when it came to Thraven and her husband. If she wanted to survive, she had to drink.

  Trin stabbed her in the back again, this time severing part of her spine. Her legs went limp and numb, and she would have fallen if the other woman wasn’t holding her. How much of this was she willing to endure, and for what purpose? Trin was right. She was giving her a chance that she didn’t have to give.

  Why was she resisting?

  She opened her mouth, feeling her teeth elongate on their own. She closed it, biting down, opening the wound Trin had created even further. The blood began to run into her mouth, and she sucked on it eagerly, taking it in and swallowing. It was thicker than the soldier’s had been, much thicker. It was filled with naniates, maybe even more than Emily Eagan had possessed.

  “Yes,” Trinity said. “That’s it. Drink up, Cage.”

  She could feel Trinity release her and sense the cyborg stepping back. She remained in place, pulling in the Venerant’s blood and swallowing, feeling her strength not only returning but blossoming as the naniates integrated and came back to life.

  She was there for nearly half an hour. By the time she was done, the Venerant was nearly dry. She had taken all of it, unable to stop herself, unable to even consider it. Every part of her was tingling. Every part of her felt alive. But how long could she remain this way? Already, she felt as though her mind was becoming clouded. She felt a sense of frustrated anger lingering beneath her surface, stirring the motion beneath her skin. She wanted to kill. To hurt. To destroy. She struggled to focus. What was she doing here, again?