Hero's End (The Black Wing Chronicles Book 2)

by JC Cassels

  Shaking his head to clear it, Blade closed his consciousness. Immediately the colors faded to their normal hue and the energy patterns fizzled and faded from his awareness. Without his divided energy, he easily passed Royce. They didn’t slow until they reached the storage lockers near the one and only commercial transport service. Royce collected his bag. With a nod to Blade, the two headed for the docking arm beyond the main concourse.

  Neither spoke until they’d boarded Sundance. Royce sealed the hatch behind him and ducked into the lounge. He glanced around. His brow furrowed. “Where’s Bo?”

  “Taking a little vacation,” Blade said. “You can take the mate’s quarters.”

  Royce peered at him. “Who’s flyin’ this boat? You?”

  Blade shrugged, not taking offense at his incredulous tone. “So it would seem,” he said. “Sundance, call for clearance and lay in a course for Sonora IV.”

  “Acknowledged.”

  “Pilot’s certification wasn’t in your service record.”

  Blade grinned, enjoying having the upper hand. “It still isn’t.”

  He ducked back out of the hatch and headed for the flight deck.

  Royce’s boots clicked on the floor plating behind him.

  “This I gotta see.”

  Once on the flight deck, Blade settled into the pilot’s seat and snugged down the g-locks. He scanned the panel and brought to life the systems Sundance had held for him. Royce dropped into the co-pilot’s seat and slipped his arms into his safety harness before pulling the webbing tight around his torso.

  “You know you got a light thing flashing there…” Royce pointed at the maneuvering thruster indicator light.

  Blade nodded. “Yeah, I know,” he said. “It’s supposed to do that.”

  Royce didn’t look convinced. “I hope you’re right,” he said. “I’d hate to get sucked out into space because you forgot to close the door.”

  “You’re the one who sealed the hatch, Royce,” Blade said.

  He released the docking clamps and, with a silent prayer, maneuvered clear of the docking arm. He held his silence until they reached the station’s outer markers and slipped into the shipping lane leading to the jump point.

  “I wouldn’t worry about this part of the trip,” Blade said. “This part is easy. It’s landing that I have trouble with.”

  “What kind of trouble?”

  The nav-sys signaled that he’d reached the jump coordinates. Blade reached over and took hold on the lever that would engage the hyperdrive. He smiled at Royce.

  “I’ve only ever landed a ship once.”

  He engaged the hyperdrive engine. The ship lurched and surged as space distorted around them. They slipped across the threshold between realspace and hyperspace with a jolt and a stammer.

  He’d really have to work on that. Bo’s jumps were much smoother.

  ***

  “Really, Royce, I drive much better than I fly,” Blade said.

  “That’s not sayin’ much, kid.” Royce growled and guided the ground cruiser smoothly around the curve.

  Blade folded his arms across his chest and leaned back in the seat.

  Maker, help him. He didn’t want to have to kill Royce Barron. Not only would it prove a difficult and dangerous task, but Blade considered him a friend. He wanted to believe that Royce had nothing to do with poisoning Bo, but he couldn’t let his personal feelings cloud his judgment.

  “Keep your eyes open,” Royce said. “The lady I spoke with said he hadn’t been transferred yet. That means those two hunters are still unaccounted for.”

  “They’re probably waiting on their friends to join them.”

  “Yeah. Either way, I don’t think they’re gonna be too happy when we walk out with my brother.”

  “If he’s your brother,” Blade said. “We’ve followed up leads like this before, Royce.”

  Royce nodded and shifted in his seat. “Yeah, but this is the first one that came with its own welcome party.”

  Slowing the cruiser, Royce pulled into a long drive. A large, black gate blocked the way. Royce brought the cruiser to a stop and waited for a uniformed guard to step out of the gatehouse. The burly reptilioid waddled closer. The light from Sonora’s star glistened off his scales like a walking rainbow. His upturned snout twitched and the ridge of fleshy spikes running from his occipital bone, over his head and down the back of his collar flexed. He huffed and snorted into the window Royce had opened.

  “Can I help you?” he asked. He leaned in, bracing tridactyl foreclaws on the door.

  Royce held up his IC ident card. “Yeah, I’m Second Sector Inner Circle Agent Royce Barron.” He gestured absently towards Blade. “My associate and I are here investigating reports that you have a man claiming to be Bhruic Barron. I’ve already spoken with someone in admin. They should be expecting me.”

  “Just a minute.”

  The guard pushed away from the cruiser and lumbered back into the gatehouse. He returned a few minutes later with a large white sheet of paper with markings on it. He handed it to Royce. With one thick talon, he traced a line on the map.

  “This is the main road. Follow it around until you get to the cluster of buildings. Admin is the big red one with the circular drive. Ask for Dr. Flipz.”

  “Thanks,” Royce called, but the guard was already moving away. Royce handed the map to Blade. “Paper. Gotta love the Outer Commonwealth.”

  Blade turned the map over in his hands. “Pulp’s a big industry here,” he said. “Paper’s cheaper than flimsies.”

  “Paper’s harder to destroy.” The gate rattled and jerked before creaking open with painful slowness. The mechanism responsible rang and clattered like a thousand tiny bells. Royce glanced at Blade, took a deep breath, and blew it out slowly. The gate finally ground to a halt with one last cymbal crash. He eased the cruiser through, following the guard’s directions.

  Neither of them spoke.

  Blade studied the well-manicured park surrounding the facility, looking for possible ambush points. Trees lined the edge of a wide expanse of lawn. As the drive wound down the rolling hillside, the woodlands encroached deeper into the lawn. The shorter the distance between trees and drive, the more the gaily-planted flowerbeds carpeted the landscape. Serene and pleasant, there was a restful quality to it.

  “For now, we’ll go by your real name, kid,” Royce said. “You walk into a place like this telling people you’re Blade Devon, they’re likely to keep you.”

  Blade’s lips quirked. “But I am Blade Devon,” he said. “I’ve got the ID to prove it.”

  “You want to stay?”

  “My publicist would have a stroke if I did.”

  They easily found the admin building and Royce parked the cruiser in the clearly marked visitor’s parking area. Following Royce, Blade noted the security cams, catalogued the locking mechanisms and the reinforced windows. He couldn’t help it. Whenever he entered any kind of secure facility, he went in devising an escape plan as he went. It was one reason he seldom ever remained locked up anywhere for long. He knew every hole in the security of the Sovran Palace on Trisdos – and he kept that information to himself.

  Inside, Royce stopped at a reception desk and introduced himself. They only had to wait a few moments before a white-coated humanoid doctor stepped through the double doors.

  “I’m Dr. Flipz,” he said. “Agent Barron?”

  Royce stepped forward and offered his hand. “Royce Barron,” he said. “This is my associate, Dev Fossey.”

  Blade shook hands with the man, noting the odd pink and blue swirls on his smooth flesh. His was an unfamiliar race. That was a novelty for Blade.

  “Come with me,” he said. “I’m sure you’re eager to judge for yourselves the veracity of the man’s claims.”

  Royce fell into step beside Dr. Flipz and Blade trailed along behind. The doctor led them down a long, wide corridor, lit by overhead glow panels. The plaster walls had been painted a putrid color, somewhere between g
reen and yellow. Bo would probably have some asinine name for the shade, but it reminded Blade of pus. His lips twitched. Where did pus appear on the color wheel in relation to buttercream?

  “They picked him up a couple of weeks ago,” Dr. Flipz said. “We had him in isolation. He’s obviously suffering from a neurological imbalance in his brain chemistry, but without knowing for certain what passes for normal with him, we have no way of being sure how to treat him.”

  “What symptoms has he displayed?” Blade asked.

  “Claiming to be Bhruic Barron, primarily,” Dr. Flipz said. “There is no way he could be Bhruic Barron. The man simply isn’t old enough. According to records, The Barron would be in his late fifties. This man is in his late thirties or early forties.”

  Royce exchanged a look with Blade. “That fits,” he said.

  Blade nodded.

  Dr. Flipz nodded to a large, white-clad reptilioid orderly, who looked to be a close cousin to the guard at the gate. The orderly touched the control panel beside the door and it swung invitingly open. The doctor strode ahead into the room. Royce and Blade exchanged a look.

  “Sterkte,” Royce said softly.

  Strength in Gallic.

  Blade placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and nodded.

  Lowering his head slightly, Royce followed the doctor.

  Both men hesitated as Dr. Flipz wended his way through the patients in their loose, white gowns. Blade had expected to be taken to a private cell of some sort, not a communal rec room. He glanced around the bright, cheerful room. Large windows filled the wall, letting in sunlight and offering a charming view of the gardens. Patients huddled around round tables, congregated on sofas or watched the holovid.

  Dr. Flipz stopped beside a round table. The lone occupant sat with his back to the wall. His brown hair was short and tousled. His thin, white garments stretched tightly over his shoulders and arms, revealing a muscular build. He looked up at the doctor, but made no move to rise. Even from across the room, there was no mistaking the authority in his comportment. Dr. Flipz spoke quietly and gestured towards Royce and Blade. The man bowed his head. He lightly ran one finger upwards from the bridge of his nose across the deep furrows in his forehead. He said something to Dr. Flipz, then turned his head slightly and peered up at them from deepset eyes. A close-trimmed beard covered his face. His wide nose looked like it might have been broken a time or two. He lowered his hand and lifted his chin.

  “Holy shit…” Royce took two faltering steps before striding quickly to him. Smiling to himself, Blade followed.

  “Bhruic!”

  The Barron’s face split in a wide grin and he unfolded from his chair. “Took you long enough to find me.”

  Bhruic’s voice sounded somewhere between a throaty croak and a deep-chested growl.

  The two brothers embraced, with much back-slapping and bone-crushing. Royce towered over him by half a head.

  Blade sidled up to Dr. Flipz.

  “I think it’s safe to say that he really is Bhruic Barron, don’t you?” Blade said. At the doctor’s nod, he went on. “So let’s get the discharge formalities taken care of so we can be on our way.”

  The doctor nodded and led Blade to the office to file the proper forms. While he sorted out Bhruic’s discharge, Royce helped Bhruic gather his meager belongings. By the time Blade had finished the formalities, Bhruic had changed into a serviceable spacer’s jumpsuit and he and Royce waited for him at Reception.

  Blade caught Royce’s eye. “I’m driving,” he said. His tone left no room for negotiation.

  Royce nodded and tossed him the keycard for the cruiser.

  Bhruic’s smile tightened. “Are we expecting trouble?”

  “We are,” Royce said. He held open the rear door of the cruiser. He scanned the tree line. “After you, Barron.”

  Blade slid behind the controls and started the engine. Bhruic ducked into the rear seat, followed by Royce. As soon as the doors clicked shut, Blade set the cruiser into gear.

  “How long have you been out of stasis?” Royce asked. “You look better now than when you went in.”

  “About a year,” Bhruic said. “Long enough to find out my daughter’s a convicted traitor. What the hell, Royce? You were supposed to look after her.”

  “I did,” Royce said. “I am. She’s fine.”

  “Where is she?”

  “I dunno. Ask loverboy.”

  Blade caught Royce’s nod in the mirror.

  Great.

  “Him?” Bhruic sounded dubious. “Bo’s seeing him? He looks like that guy in the holofeatures that all the women are going crazy over.”

  “I am that guy in the holofeatures that all the women are going crazy over,” Blade said.

  “Oh…, well that explains that.”

  “Long story short,” Royce said. “His name’s Blade Devon. He’s First Sector IC on detached duty. I can’t get any straight answers out of him, but I gather the holofeature thing is a part of his cover. He answers only to Lord Marin. I got a lead on your stasis pod. Bo found it. He downloaded the data records from it and used his connections to find you. I’m just along for the ride. This is the kid’s show.”

  Bhruic nodded, processing the information. After a moment, he looked up and met Blade’s stare in the mirror. “Why? What’s your interest in this?”

  “Officially, Lord Marin wanted you found. Unofficially, I’m in love with your daughter.”

  “That’s good to know,” Bhruic said. “Why does the First Sector Overlord want me found and not the Second?”

  “Someone’s been trying to kill you for a very long time,” Blade said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his data reader. With one hand on the steering controls, he called up the data from Bhruic’s stasis pod and handed it back. “According to the recorder on the stasis pod, you weren’t sick. You were being poisoned.”

  “Poisoned?” Bhruic studied the data reader. “How archaic.”

  “Are you sure?” Royce peered over his shoulder.

  “Quite sure,” Blade said. “The way Bo was framed for Frostfire leads me to believe that if Lord Scull wasn’t actively participating in the attempts on your life, they were committed with his tacit approval.”

  “Someone’s making a bid for the Black Wing?”

  “Or trying to destabilize the Inner Commonwealth,” Royce said.

  Blade nodded. “Either way, Lord Marin wants answers. Since you’re the key player in this scenario, Lord Marin wanted you back on the board.”

  “How kind of him.”

  “I think he’s hoping they’ll make another attempt on your life. If he can get Scull to make a mistake…”

  “He can appeal to the Sovran Council for sanctions against the Second Sector and clip Scull’s wings.” Bhruic passed the data reader back to Blade.

  Blade’s lips quirked. “I see where Bo gets her mind for strategy,” he said, tucking the device back into his jacket.

  “Well, she sure as hell doesn’t get it from him.” Bhruic nodded towards Royce. “He tends to take the direct approach.”

  “She’s been known to do that, too,” Blade said.

  “So where do you come in? Are you my bodyguard?”

  Blade shook his head. “Lord Marin’s involvement is, uh, unofficial. I’ll do the best I can, but I can’t guarantee your safety if you return to Mondhuoun. Bo can’t return home. Lord Scull has made it clear that if she does, he’ll consider it an act of rebellion and deploy troops. Her safety is my primary concern. Unless you and Bo stay together, you’re on your own.”

  “Good to know.”

  Royce shrugged and canted his head at his brother. “You’ve still got me.”

  “You gonna be my food taster?”

  “I’ve got a better idea,” Royce said. “Let Galen do that.”

  The energy around them shuddered and rippled through the air like the sound waves from a huge bell. The hair on Blade’s neck snapped to attention and a warning chill rocketed down his arms.


  “Royce,” he called.

  Responding to his tone, Royce drew his sidearm with his left hand and shoved Bhruic onto the floor with his other.

  “I don’t see anything, kid,” he said.

  “Something is coming.”

  “What? Where?”

  In reply, a sniper opened fire from the tree line. Blasts struck the front grill of the cruiser. Blade jerked the steering mechanism. The cruiser veered off the road onto the wide lawn. Energy blasts thudded against the outer plating of the cruiser. More blasts struck the cruiser’s tail.

  Blade cursed himself for not seeing it sooner.

  “Cross-fire,” Royce called. “Why aren’t they trying to pin us down?”

  “Aerial assault,” Bhruic shouted. “They’re pushing us toward an LZ. Keep your eye on the sky.”

  “They cut off our only way out!” Blade wrestled with the cruiser as it skimmed over the rolling lawn.

  “Now what?” Royce leaned out the window and snapped a few bursts in the direction of one of the snipers.

  Blade pulled his com-set from his pocket and hit the connect code for Sundance.

  “How may I direct your call?”

  “We’re taking fire and looking for an aerial assault. We need an extraction.”

  “Understood. Maintain your present coordinates.”

  Blade hit the brakes and the cruiser skidded sideways to a halt. “We have to hold position here,” he said. He knocked the cruiser out of gear, but kept the engines running.

  Royce looked around. “Are you insane? There’s no cover!”

  Reaching under the seat, Blade pulled out his service blaster and passed it back to Bhruic. “Cover or not,” he said, “we have to hold position here.”

  “You trust your IC buddies to swoop in here and…”

  “I trust Sundance!” Blade snapped. He drew his blaster from his shoulder holster and scooted across the seat.

  Royce bit back whatever else he’d been about to say.

  Blade scanned the tree line in both directions and pushed the door open. Staying low, he edged out onto the ground. Using the door and the front fender of the cruiser for cover, he raised his weapon.

  “Do you see anything?”