by Mick Fraser
“No.”
Gaelan laughed. “At least show them to Guin when the chance arises. I don’t want you arcing away when we’re... in the middle of something.”
The light went out. Angela looked into Gaelan’s bright eyes, wondering how she’d gone from punching guys out in pubs and waiting tables to crossing the galaxy, overthrowing a tyrant, and lying in the arms of another woman. What was even stranger, though, was that this life out here, with Gaelan and the Firebrands felt far more real, far more substantial than the one she had left behind. The only thing about Earth that she could not, would not, forget, was Frank Strange. She hoped her granddad was ok. She suspected he was – if nothing else, he had always been as tough as leather. She chewed her lip wistfully, and Gaelan nudged her.
“Where are you?” the Avellian asked her.
Angela smiled, planting a kiss on Gaelan’s lips. “I’m right here.”
“Golden, because I have something for you.” The Avellian suddenly rolled away, her skin rippling through various shades of orange and pink. Angela watched her cross the room, her eyes drawn uncontrollably to the curve of her buttocks, the smoothness of her flanks. In a galaxy of unknown terrors, unquantifiable wonders and ancient, colossal mysteries, she knew in that moment one undeniable truth: this was right. This was meant to be.
Gaelan skipped back to the bed with a small black box. Angela took it, sitting up and covering herself with the sheet. She examined the box, but its plain exterior gave no clue as to its contents. She looked at Gaelan, who was staring at her expectantly. She still had the white, star-shaped scar on her shoulder where she had been shot; she refused to have the regenerator remove it completely, because she said scars were important. Angela agreed.
She opened the box and peered inside. It was a databand, brand new and gleaming. She lifted it clear. “You got me a new one?”
Gaelan nodded excitedly. “That’s not all. Turn it on. You can calibrate it later. For now, just turn it on.”
Angela pressed the screen on the reader for a moment, and it lit up. Gaelan leaned over, tapping the display. “When Do’vah and Dizzy picked you up on Earth, the Shadowstar’s mind performed an automatic data-grab, snatched up a bunch of random digital files from whatever waves were in range. Look.” She tapped the screen and a list appeared in Orrenian. Angela could recognise most of the words.
Long Tall Sally. Relight my Fire. Single Ladies.
“These are songs,” she said, and then when it sank in she shouted, “These are songs!”
“Some, a handful of random stuff, I guess. Some of it’s… weird.”
Angela scrolled excitedly, finally finding the one she hoped was there. “This was… is... my granddad’s favourite song,” she said, as tears left glistening trails on her cheeks.
We Could Be Heroes began to play, and she sat back, hugged Gaelan close, and thanked the galaxy in general for David Bowie.
She closed her eyes, picturing her kitchen back in Templeton, drinking hot tea on a cold morning with her granddad, reading the paper, listening to the kids playing football in Benjamin Park. Home.
Home?
No.
Not any more…
She was so engrossed in her reverie that she barely heard the door knock, though she did feel Gaelan scramble under the sheets. Angela stopped the music. “Who is it?”
“It is Shimmer. The Captain needs to see you in the briefing room as soon as you are able. Gaelan, too. If you see her.”
“Right. Okay. Thanks!”
Gaelan re-emerged from the duvet. “You think she knows?”
“If anyone does, she does. We’ll have to tell them eventually.”
Gaelan stood and began to dress. “Yes, maybe. Eventually.” She leaned down and kissed Angela. “For now, I like that this is ours and ours alone. A girl needs secrets, Earthborn.”
“I hate when you call me that.”
“No you don’t. You love it. It makes you feel special.”
They dressed and hurried to the briefing room where the rest of the crew waited for them. The main screen was on, and the Orrenian news was playing. The image was of a huge amphitheatre wherein sat hundreds of delegates of all races.
“What’s this?” Angela asked.
“Succession,” Shimmer replied.
“This,” Drenno elaborated, “is where we find out who’s taking over, and find out if our pardons are going to be honoured. We’ve still got some friends in the Accordance. If we get lucky, hell, we can retire today.”
“They’ve decided this already?”
“It’s been seven days. Any longer without a figurehead and there’ll be anarchy.”
“And what if it’s not someone who likes us?”
“I don’t know. Guin offered us sanctuary.”
Gage entered the room. Her chest was still bandaged, as was Six-Tails’ shoulder and neck. Only Shimmer and Illith had emerged from the Uncommon Hero unscathed. “What’s the hubbub, Chief?” asked the Auton. “I was busy.”
“Succession.”
“And?”
He looked around at her. “Don’t you care about anything?”
“Not about you corporeals and your politics, no. I care about Rathe’s promise. Which is yours now, remember?”
“I remember. Let’s see if we’re all still marked for death first, though, okay? The pardon was real, but they don’t have to honour it now Evayne’s dead.”
Dizzy chuffed. “I can’t believe she’s gone. I read that it’s going to take almost a year to rebuild the Hero. They evacuated the civilians to Amman Math. It’s a wonder we didn’t kill anyone.”
“We could have,” Illith interjected. “We can’t afford to be so reckless again.”
“Don’t you ever smile, Fangs?” Gage asked the Silsir, playfully slapping her on the backside. “Always so bloody maudlin. We’re alive, aren’t we?”
Drenno shushed them. “Here it is.”
A To’ecc official was addressing the amphitheatre, his bronze skin and regal attire giving him the air of an incredibly rich toad. “That’s Bay Elen’bay, the To’ecc High Chancellor,” Drenno explained to Angela. “Which means he didn’t get the job. Dammit. He’s Dizzy’s cousin.”
Gaelan leaned in, whispering. “Doesn’t mean anything. So was Varo.”
Angela looked shocked, but Gaelan smiled. “To’eccs breed a lot. And they interbreed a lot more. They’re almost all related one way or another.”
The To’ecc’s voice boomed out across the amphitheatre: “…May I present, her Great and Sceptred Highness...”
A figure emerged from the wings, taking carefully measured steps towards the dais, bowing her hooded head to Elen’bay, who bowed respectfully in return and backed away, leaning in to the plinth to continue his sentence: “…Wielder of the Sceptre of Dao, Executor of the Founders’ Will, Protector of the Melrasi Reach, and Heiress to the Galaxy…”
Drenno leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as Elen’bay threw up his arms. “…Tesselen Irillia Evayne!”
Angela felt sick as the figure removed its hood to rapturous applause from the entire auditorium. Gaelan gripped her arm, pulling her close.
“No fucking way!” Gage spat. “We killed her.”
Drenno cursed. “There were no signs of life! You said no signs of life, Diz!”
Dizzy bridled. “She was standing on fifty crates of burning alkidium. No way she walked away from that. We blew out every damned hangar on the Hero!”
Illith hushed them, stepping forward.
Evayne opened her arms. “My people of the Reach!” she said, her face stern. “What you see before you is no illusion. I survived the heinous attack on my home by cowardly terrorists. The traitorous rebels once known as the Firebrands have returned, and they have come in vengeance and spite, to tear down everything we have built with our own honest hands!
“They attacked my ship. Slaughtered my soldiers. Terrorised your people. They have declared war on the Reach, and together we will hunt them down!
“I hereby declare the acting crew of the Starfighter Shadowstar and all of their allies and affiliates traitors against the Sceptery, enemies of the Reach, and fugitives from the law. And I offer a reward of one-million cubits in pure khorium to any freelancer, mercenary, soldier or citizen who brings me information that leads to their capture and execution. The Reach does not, cannot, negotiate with terrorists!”
Drenno flicked the monitor off and sat back, stunned. “Shit,” he breathed.
“I’m pretty sure ‘shit’ means ‘bad’ this time,” Dizzy quipped to Angela, though his heart wasn’t in it.
“How is this possible?” asked Shimmer.
“I think I know,” said Angela. She looked at Drenno. “We need to see Guin. Right now. I need a lot of answers.”
Drenno shook his head, standing. “Too dangerous. Evayne knows about our friendship with the Seraph. Dizzy, plot a course for the Rim. Take the back roads – keep us off the map. We’ll see Guin as soon as it’s safe. Okay?”
Angela nodded shakily. The room emptied, leaving her alone with Gaelan. The Avellian took her hand. “Are you alright?”
“No.” She flicked the monitor back on to see the crowd of delegates still in thunderous applause. The camera focused on Tess Evayne, zooming in on her face, as beautiful as ever but different, changed. There was something in her emerald eyes, something dark. When next she spoke it was right to the camera, right to Angela.
“You are mine, Earthborn. You belong to me.”
Angela froze and the monitor went black.
“Illumiel...” she whispered to an uncomprehending Gaelan. “The Unavenged is coming for me.”
TO BE CONTINUED IN
ANGELA STRANGE VOLUME II:
RISE OF THE UNAVENGED
~COMING SOON~
ANGELA STRANGE
RISE OF THE UNAVENGED
MICK FRASER
THE REACH IS CHANGING.
THE ACTIONS OF ANGELA STRANGE, CAPTAIN DRENNO, AND THE CREW OF THE SHADOWSTAR HAVE IRREVOCABLY SHAPED THE FUTURE OF OUR GALAXY. THE WEAVE IS FRAYING, AND NEW HORRORS ARE EMERGING FROM THE DEEP SHADOWS BETWEEN REALITIES.
AS OPPOSING FACTIONS FORM AND BATTLE LINES ARE DRAWN, ANGELA MUST FACE A SEEMINGLY INSURMOUNTABLE CHALLENGE: UNITE THE PEOPLES OF THE REACH IN PREPARATION FOR A WAR NONE OF THEM BELIEVE IS COMING.
IN RISE OF THE UNAVENGED, THE SECOND VOLUME OF THE ANGELA STRANGE SERIES, LOYALTY, COURAGE, AND FAITH WILL BE TESTED TO BREAKING POINT AS ANGELA AND THE CREW PLACE THEMSELVES IN HARM’S WAY FOR THE GOOD OF THE GALAXY, AND THE SURVIVAL OF ALL SENTIENT LIFE...
Table of Contents
PROLOGUE
PART ONE: ANGELA
PART TWO: THE SHADOWSTAR
PART THREE: A HAND-MADE SKY
PART FOUR: THE RELIQUARIES
PART FIVE: THE RESONANCE ENGINE
EPILOGUE
