Destiny Abounds (Starlight Saga Book 1)

by Annathesa Nikola Darksbane

  “Thirty degrees out, about two minutes up.” Merlo quoted the numbers off the top of her head, before even checking the gauges displayed on the NADI in her peripheral vision. Notably, the ship’s hull was hotter than she’d expected from re-entry, but Mr. Leonard would have warned her if it was anything concerning, so it was more likely just something to do with the atmosphere or heat retention of the large, verdant world beneath them.

  “No problems here, and the coordinating Se’char VIs have given us clearance to land. No worries, I’ve got you taken care of on my end, Miss Merlo.” Even though he wasn’t there to see it, Merlo grinned in response. Now she was acting like Branwen, grinning at the empty air when she spoke to him. “Shall I connect you with the rest of the ship to announce our impending landing?”

  “Nah, I want to hold off on it for a moment.” She didn’t want to give Branwen too much time to prepare. The Captain had already stated her intentions to be among those who went out to investigate whatever it was that was going on, and Merlo fully intended to be down in the cargo hold waiting by the door for her. She’d be damned if she was going to let Branwen leave without her going along, too.

  Especially after what happened the last time she’d left her alone. She couldn’t fail to protect her Captain again. She just couldn’t.

  13.1- Branwen

  By the time Branwen had her gear on and made it to the cargo bay door, Merlo was waiting for her. As Mr. Leonard lowered the ramp for them to exit, she nodded to her pilot in approval. “You seem ready to depart.” Merlo nodded in affirmation. “Then come on.”

  The girl seemed slightly surprised. “No argument? I didn’t know if you’d want me coming or not, Captain.”

  Branwen snorted at her and flashed her the teeth of a smile. “Who else would I prefer at my back in case of trouble?” The Captain enjoyed and approved of the brief beaming expression on Merlo’s face before it was replaced with a more militant seriousness.

  As they walked down the Destiny’s ramp and into the squat, rounded stardock, she watched Merlo toss a couple of looks over her shoulder at the ship. “Wait… are they not coming with us?”

  Branwen tossed her head, sending her long braids dancing. “No, not yet. Since there may be trouble, I want Kala Sirrah to stay behind until I can assure her safety, or at least until I need her assistance.”

  “Yeah, but what if we find more trouble than is good for just two of us?” Merlo gave her a long look as they descended to ground level and cast about for transit. Don Mateo’s home was a few span from here by the description, and Branwen didn’t intend to take transit right up to his door. “Wait. It’s that you don’t trust her, isn’t it? 286, I mean.”

  “Well, now that you mention it,” Branwen made an indistinct noise in her throat. “Not so much.”

  “May I ask why?”

  “Of course.” They made their way outside to a crossroads to await the arrival of a transit vehicle. “She is a criminal, and if I understand what I read of her record, mentally unsound. She seems volatile, and is obviously dangerous. I would know. I have known many dangerous people in my lifetime.” She looked squarely over at Merlo. “But first and foremost, I do not know her well enough to offset any of those considerations yet.”

  Merlo stared silently down at her suit-wrapped and armored feet for the couple of minutes until their transit vehicle arrived, a tall, multi-wheeled, multi-tiered metal construct that was nearly vacant of other passengers. They climbed on board, and the automated system navigating them picked up on the destination data ready in Branwen’s datapad and started them on the correct route. Or so Branwen hoped, anyway.

  It was still another long, thoughtful moment after they started moving before Merlo spoke again. “You think I’m being stupid, don’t you?”

  Branwen gave her a quiet laugh in response, prompting Merlo to look up from the floor again. “If you are a fool, then you are in good company, as we are all fools at one time or another.” She gave the young pilot a heartfelt smile. “Especially when it comes to those we care about; something you should trust me on. I have a lot of experience with that particular sort of foolishness.” Branwen shrugged away any lingering memories with good natured humor. “She seems to make you happy. That, at least, is something worth holding onto.”

  “Thanks, Captain.”

  They took the transit for several minutes of the journey there, then disembarked to walk the last mile or so. As Branwen explained to Merlo on the way, she’d rather be on her feet and take a bit longer than to give their presence away by being driven right up to their destination.

  “So you’re expecting trouble, then, Captain?” Merlo asked the question as soon as their feet touched the tended, packed earth of the pathway that wound and rose lazily up toward the crown of a soft green rise, and the manor and grounds that rested upon it. The ground beneath them spoke to Branwen of frequent travel, but not so much that it overly deformed the ground. A few feet from them, the pathway rose on both sides of the road, a twinned rolling wave of green grass and fragrant, blooming flowers.

  “It is better to expect it and be wrong than to be caught by surprise.” It felt wonderful to have her boots treading the earth once again, even if it wasn’t the familiar ground of Fade. She’d missed that feeling. “But yes, I do have a sense that something is amiss. Since hearing the whole story from Sirrah, my instinct has been telling me that danger awaits along this path.” Barely aware of it, her hand travelled down and instinctively checked her Skyblade, secure in its alloy holster.

  “Then why are we doing this, Captain? I mean, I’m not saying we shouldn’t, or that I don’t want to, but it’s also not our business.”

  Branwen had to fall silent a moment and consider the question. It was a good question, after all. “Perhaps because it is an old habit of mine, one which I am far too old to rid myself of now.” Merlo didn’t question her further on the matter, which was just as well. It wasn’t a complete answer, but it was the best she could conjure at the moment.

  After walking in silence for a few more minutes, Merlo finally spoke again, broaching a different subject. “It’s so pretty here.” Branwen nodded her agreement, though she still prefered the landscapes of her homeworld, of course. “I can never get over how… breathtaking planetside can be, sometimes.”

  “Do you still prefer living aboard the ships, though?”

  “Oh, definitely. I mean, I can’t exactly fly a planet, now can I, Captain?” She grinned over at Branwen. “At least, not yet. They need to come out with some good guidance software for them first. Maybe Mr. Leonard could help me with that.” After eliciting a good chuckle from Branwen, she continued with a somewhat more subdued, wistful tone to her voice. “Sometimes I see all these planetscapes, and wonder what Arlesha was like. Before and after all the refugees, even.”

  Branwen was surprised enough she missed a step, Merlo glancing over at her curiously. “Wait… So you are saying that you never saw Arlesha from the ground?”

  “Nope. I mean, they told us about her, but I lived my life on the Starlance station.” She eyed Branwen as they continued walking and talking quietly. Branwen kept one hand on her sword and eyes ahead, scanning for danger as they went. “You seem surprised.”

  Branwen nodded. “I would think that you would fight all the more boldly for your home if you knew it better.” She considered for a moment. “What was she like then, your Arlesha?”

  Merlo just shrugged. “I dunno, Captain. Like I said, we never saw it.”

  “But surely you saw it from your station in space?” Merlo just looked at her blankly. “Well, what about descriptions? Surely they explained what it used to be like.”

  Merlo nodded. “Well, sure. It used to be all green and open with normal sized cities, I guess probably not so different from Altair or something. But then it got crowded and over-developed by all of the primitives—I mean refugees. Sorry Captain.”

  Branwen nodded, casually conveying her lack of taken offense. “Hmm. But what
was it like? Before or after. Surely there were better descriptions than that. And what about video feeds or pictures?”

  Now it was Merlo’s turn to miss a step, and Branwen almost reached out a hand to catch her, thinking she stumbled. “Umm… Well, not so much. Not that I remember.” Branwen gave her a long, incredulous look, and she shrugged, looking slightly uncomfortable. “Honestly, we didn’t… Well, we didn’t study much stuff like history, or even current events. Things weren’t like they are here. We didn’t have a lot of free time, or anything. All of our studies, everything we did, was directed toward making us better at whichever role we had.” Her voice fell, but not so much Branwen couldn’t hear it. “For all the good it did us.”

  Branwen shook her head, still incredulous. “It is not how I would have done it.”

  “What do you mean, Captain?”

  Branwen grunted and gestured widely, trying to evoke just how absurd she thought the idea was. “How can one fight the best for something they do not know? That they have not come to love as their own?”

  “I think our instructors considered all of that stuff to be distractions.”

  Branwen shook her head and grumbled lightly deep in her throat. “Well, they were wrong. That is not how one best motivates neither soldiers nor heroes.”

  Merlo folded her arms tightly behind her back with what Branwen sensed was a lingering feeling of discomfort, or perhaps something deeper-seated. “I dunno, Captain. Maybe you’re right. It just was what it was, you know?”

  Branwen nodded, quietly swallowing a bit of ire at unknown, distant figures as she considered the situation. “What did they teach you, other than piloting, then?”

  Merlo seemed to consider briefly. “Uh, not much. I mean, basic solar dynamics and math and stuff, but all of those things were just necessary for me to have a good enough grounding to be a pilot.” The girl seemed to get a bit embarrassed. “I… don’t think they went into anything that wasn’t directly related to flying or combat in some way.”

  Branwen slapped a comforting hand down onto the girl’s shoulder. “Well, you still know more about many important things than I do, so do not feel bad.”

  “Heh, saying I know more technology than the person who was raised without technology… it’s not saying much, Captain.” She cracked a hint of a good natured smile in Branwen’s direction.

  “It says one thing, that all of us are uneducated in the many things we never had the opportunity to learn. There is no need for shame.”

  Her pilot grinned broader at her. “Well, thanks, Captain. Glad you understand.”

  Branwen nodded. “Of course.” There was something, or maybe even several somethings, about Merlo’s story that didn’t add up, and she didn’t think it was through any concealment on her pilot’s part, either. But those considerations would have to wait; there were other tasks at hand.

  As they crested the hill, Branwen stopped and assessed their surroundings. Don Mateo’s manor was what she figured was palatial by most sky-people’s considerations, though it was by no means the most extravagant of the homes they had passed since departing the port at Se’char. Seated on a short cliff overlooking the bright green-blue of a vast Kepa’ohalei ocean, the manor lacked a lot of the extraneous embellishments on its decor that she had seen in wealthy domains elsewhere, instead displaying a simple, elegant, stylized dignity that spoke of status and wealth without screaming it at the top of its lungs. In that sense, the home spoke well to her of its owner.

  Kala Sirrah had spoken of Don Mateo to her before they departed, giving her a brief physical description along with a professional assessment of his personality. She described him as being friendly, if proper, a gentleman who was generous with his wealth and considerations, having built up his fortune primarily from shipping claims on his homeworld of Zelturi. The structure ahead of them indeed seemed like the sort of home that would fit a savvy, ethical businessman with a strong inclination to support the arts, solid and tastefully artistic without feeling wasteful.

  It allowed Branwen to build a picture of the man, and, in turn, how to deal with him or those he hired, assuming he was here. She started toward the front gate, a thick, bronze-coated metal filigree shaped to resemble some animal or other she was unfamiliar with. Fixed into a low brickwork wall that ran the perimeter of the property yet was hardly as tall as Branwen. She figured the setup was more for proprietary and privacy than functionality; she knew that she wouldn’t consider such a paltry barrier much of an assistance in repelling a serious invading force. A wind whipped past them, tugging mischievously at their hair and Branwen’s thick coat, and she breathed in deep the fresh, foreign, oceanborne scents of the vibrant Kepo world.

  “I think you have to call someone,” Merlo commented, laying a hand on the polished metal of the gate in their way. “I don’t see a com system, though.”

  “Perhaps we just do not recognize it.” She didn’t see any buttons either, but Merlo was used to advanced technology, and she to the lack thereof. “What is yon building?” Branwen pointed over to the side, where a small structure, not immediately obvious from outside, adjoined the structure of the wall, in clear sight of the gate from the opposite side.

  “I dunno, Captain.” Merlo stuck her face near the gate, peering through it. Branwen half wondered if the small girl could just stick her head through the gaps in the filigree to get a better look. In less serious circumstances, she would have given her a playful shove to test the theory, not that shoving would do much to her sturdy pilot. “Maybe a little guard house of some sort?”

  Branwen gestured at it, agreeing with the assessment. “That is what I thought. But it seems deserted.” A tingle ran up her spine. Something here was amiss. The next breeze that blew past somehow carried with it the feeling of vacancy, and she knew better than to doubt. She loosed her sabre in its sheath, shading her eyes with her other hand and peering at the windows in the distance. Fade-born eyes saw better than those from other lands, or so she was told, and whether that was true or not, she pressed the dark recesses of the building atop the cliff hard for any secrets they might conceal.

  “We okay, Captain?” Merlo noted her hand on her blade and seemed to tense as well, whether it was from Branwen’s lead or picking up similar feelings of her own.

  “No.” The numerous windows ahead of her stared blankly back at her, their vacant gaze silently foreboding. “This place feels abandoned.”

  Merlo cracked her knuckles, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet. “Should it be? Maybe he’s just not here, and everybody went home.”

  There was no logical proof Branwen had to back up her feelings, but her instinct said that this was a place that should be inhabited, but for some reason was not. “Message Sirrah and ask her.”

  “Sure thing, Captain.” Merlo took a step to the side, away from the gate, and pulled out her datapad. As she tapped out a silent message, Branwen studied the gate barring her way. Her blade was halfway from its sheath, and she well intended to simply use its plasma-laced edge to neatly sever the latch holding the gate together, when she realized how stupid she was being. Dropping the blade back into its sheath, she raised her arms the half foot it took to reach the top of the wall beside the gate and hauled herself up with relative ease, scraping her bust uncomfortably on the brickwork as she went and reflecting on a possible need to get in more frequent exercise.

  She crouched there, extending a hand to the shorter girl, but Merlo finished her messaging and tucked the pad away with an amused look. Taking a couple of steps back for room to gather momentum, the girl leapt and grabbed the edge of the brickwork wall, holding onto it as she arched acrobatically over it, even managing to keep a dynamically low profile as she did so. She thumped down onto the other side, denting the dirt and fluffy grass with her impact, while immediately looking up so Branwen could clearly see her self-satisfied grin. The girl even had the temerity to offer her a hand down.

  “Uppity girl.” Branwen grumbled to herself, eschewing the
offered hand and dropping off the wall into a crouch. She gave Merlo a thin smile as she rose, and then nodded with more gravity towards the building in front of them. Similarly, the broad smile faded from her pilot’s face as she too seemed to feel the seriousness of their endeavor take hold once again.

  They moved carefully up to the building. Branwen felt somewhat exposed, with all of those barren windows staring down at her, any one of which could easily obscure a canny foe. They reached the wall nearest to them, and Branwen paused as Merlo held up a hand to signal her to pause. Branwen cast about, keeping lookout for a moment while Merlo consulted her datapad again.

  “Sirrah says this is where he lives,” Merlo said quietly, frequently glancing up to keep tabs on their surroundings. “She says he leaves and travels and stuff, but that there should be servants and someone here year round to upkeep his home. At least as far as she knows.” She glanced at Branwen significantly as the pad vibrated lightly in her hands again. “She says she’s worried.”

  Branwen nodded. “And I do not blame her. Do you feel it?” Merlo tucked the pad away and gave a look around them, seeming to study the area in the lessening twilight sun. “Something is not right here.”

  After a moment, Merlo nodded. “Yeah, Captain, I think you’re right.”

  “I think if this place is inhabited at all, then it is not by the intended inhabitants.” Merlo nodded and she gestured for the girl to follow and keep alert, which she did. “Let us find entry, and answers.” She smiled grimly as she went.

  The door, at least, was fast secured. While Branwen could have gained entry through it much as she had considered doing with the gate, Merlo warned her that it could well set off some sort of alarm if she did so. So they resolved to look around before breaking and entering, and, to Branwen’s waning surprise, they found entry via an open ground floor window on the backside of the manor, along one of the wings. They slipped quietly inside, and Branwen paused a moment for both their eyes to adjust to the dark awaiting them.