Born of Legend

by Sherrilyn Kenyon

  To this day, Jullien hated himself for it.

  He just wished he could tell his brother how sorry he was for what he'd done. And let Nykyrian know that it was sincere. That he didn't want or expect forgiveness for his actions against him, but that he did owe him an apology.

  At least he's happy now.

  Nyk had the life he deserved. He was beloved by the Triosans and Andarions alike. While they had never accepted Jullien as one of them or respected anything about him, they were more than happy to welcome his brother as their future emperor. Nyk had a wife who adored him. A beautiful daughter and two sons. Their parents respected and listened to Nyk's opinions.

  One day, Nyk would rule both empires.

  Jullien wished him well. He wished him peace. Most of all, he wished his brother love, and a harmonious reign free of the treachery that had plagued their family since the moment their distant ancestor Anatole had first claimed the Andarion throne from the Hauk family thousands of years ago.

  Legends said that the original Dancer Hauk's wife, out of a jealous rage for her husband handing the throne away to Anatole, had cursed Jullien's entire lineage to never have peace within their house until they abdicated their power back to the Hauks.

  A part of him believed it.

  But then, greed, treachery, jealousy, and lust didn't need a curse to propel them. While Andarions wanted to believe those were human traits, he knew better. Being born of both races, he was well aware of just how similar the two species were. And though they wanted to pretend they were nothing alike, humans and Andarions had a lot more in common than either wanted to admit to.

  They both sucked and he hated being a part of either species.

  Next life, he was coming back as an amoeba.

  Maybe a shoelace.

  Returning to the hangar, he paused to see his next project. Stormbringer.

  Hmmm ... interesting. There was no shortage of creativity for The Tavali when it came to naming their ships.

  "Hey, Dagger! Over here! Now!"

  He scowled at Sheila's sharp call.

  Almost six feet tall and well built, she had short red hair and cold blue eyes. Gruff and brusk, she never asked for anything. She barked out orders like she was the headmistress of a kennel and everyone else was her obedient bitch. None of the others could stand her demanding ways, but having been raised by his overbearing grandmother who made Sheila look like a toothless kitten, he didn't mind. Not like she could have someone beheaded or gutted on a whim.

  "You rang for me, mu tara and tormentor?"

  She swept a bemused stare over him. "Um ... yeah, could you lend me a hand for a second? I know you're off the clock. But this just came in and Dumbass went for lunch right before they landed."

  "Well, since I don't know who Dumbass is, I shall be more than happy to stand in for him or her, provided a more suitable moniker is chosen for me. I'm rather fond of Shit-for-Brains, myself. Shithead for short."

  She actually laughed. "Whatever. They need to get back into service. Can you program Caronese code and systems, and do you know anything about M-Class starships?"

  "Yes and yes."

  "Thank the gods! Get them flying and dinner's on me."

  Jullien inclined his head to her then ducked inside the ship. He'd barely taken two steps on board before he recognized the ship for what it was and why it'd been damaged.

  She wasn't a Tavali vessel. This was a Caronese battleship that had been taken in a fight. A brutal one by the looks of the blaster marks scarring the hallways.

  And bloodstains on the floors and walls.

  Jullien winced at the sight, hoping The Tavali had been merciful and killed the crew. If they survived to return to Caron and the loving embrace of Counselor Cruel's hands, Arturo would torture them as examples for the rest of his troops. He was one of the few modern leaders who made Eriadne appear benevolent.

  Poor bastards.

  Pushing the thought away, he went to the belly of the beast to override the security protocols and rewrite code so that The Tavali could fly her untraced.

  Jullien had just started on the programming when he heard the sharp click of a blaster's settings being changed. He froze instantly.

  "Well, well. Fuck me, if it isn't little Julie Anatole. And here I thought this ship was going to be our most valuable take today. Now, be a good little prince. Step back and kneel down so that I can kill you nice and slow, and get all the credits you're worth."

  CHAPTER 7

  Holding his hands up, Jullien turned around slowly to face The Tavali behind him. From the way The Tavali had spoken, he'd expected to recognize the pirate.

  He didn't. If their paths had ever crossed, Jullien had no recollection of it. From the size and smell of the male and the patches on his battlesuit, he was also a Chiller. One of the larger of that breed who'd been trained to hunt and kill Trisani. They were as lethal as League assassins. Lucky for Jullien, the Chiller, like everyone else, underestimated him.

  But like the rest of Jullien's enemies, he was about to learn that the only beings who kicked Jullien's ass were the ones he allowed to kick it, those who came in a large enough group to overwhelm him by sheer force....

  Or the ones lucky enough to get a blind shot off first.

  "Titana tu, chiran." Jullien grabbed the blaster faster than the Chiller could react. It discharged, proving the Chiller had intended to kill him.

  That effectively quelled his conscience.

  All charity and reservation gone, Jullien wasted no time unbalancing the larger male, slamming him to the ground and snapping his neck.

  Unfortunately, the Chiller screamed out before he died and brought his friends running. Jullien scrambled for the blaster and was on his feet before they came in, with Sheila behind them.

  "Whoa!" she shouted as they held each other at an armed stand-off. "What the hell happened, Dagger?"

  Jullien didn't take his eyes off the others as he toed the carcass at his feet. "He came at me."

  "Bullshit!" the crew's captain snarled. "Larl wouldn't have done that." He started toward Jullien.

  Jullien shot just over his shoulder. "Don't, slag. Next shot won't be a warning."

  Sheila waved her hands at them. "Everyone, calm down. We'll get this squared."

  The captain shook his head. "I want his life for my crewman. He's not even Tavali. You know the Code."

  Jullien frowned. "What's the Code?"

  Sheila sighed as she met Jullien's gaze. "The Tavali who brought you here is responsible for whatever you do. You can admit guilt and submit to the captain's justice, or if you don't, your sponsor has to surrender you or go to Calibrim for you."

  "Calibrim?"

  "Test of arms," Sheila explained. "The admiral will have to fight the captain. Similar to an Andarion Ring fight."

  Jullien cursed under his breath. Oh hell no. It wasn't Ushara's fault he hadn't bothered to read the Tavali rule book before he'd defended himself.

  Whatever. He wasn't about to allow her to risk her life or get hurt because of him. Not when she had a son to raise. He definitely wasn't worth it.

  Jullien loosened his hold on the blaster and spun it in his hand so that he could offer the grip to the captain.

  He grabbed it from Jullien's hand.

  Relegated to his fate, Jullien put his hands behind his head and laced his fingers together, then surrendered to their custody. At least they didn't seem to know his identity. Maybe they'd kill him quickly.

  *

  "Admiral!"

  Ushara let out an irritated groan at the sound of Sheila's voice through her door. She was so tired of dealing with crap today. As she was texting Zellen to tell him to brush Sheila away with an excuse, her door opened.

  "Ma'am, it's Dagger. You have to come fast before they kill him. Please!"

  The color drained from her face. "What?"

  "He killed one of the Razor's crew. Said it was self-defense. When I told him you'd have to fight for him because of it, he surrendere

d to them and they took him on board their ship."

  "Son of a bitch," she breathed. Grabbing her link, she rushed for the door. "Take me to them." She called Trajen to alert him of the situation as they ran for the bay as fast as they could.

  By the time they reached the ship, they were locked out--which was illegal while docked in the bay. As part of Tavali Code, any ship that was granted landing privilege was required to remain open and accessible to any of that base's high command or Hadean Corpsmen.

  Ushara hailed for entrance.

  No one answered her call.

  Panic and fury combined inside her to a dangerous level. And she wasn't the only one. Sheila pulled her blaster out and started to fire it at the hull. Ushara barely caught her arm before she pulled the trigger. "What are you doing?"

  "Kicking their asses! This ain't right. He was doing me a favor by helping them degenerate ass-wipes in the first place. I know he didn't do nothing wrong. Dagger's a decent guy, Admiral. He's the only one what don't get mad or upset at me at the things I say. He understands me, you know what I mean? Everyone else is an effing asshole."

  "Everyone?" Trajen arched his brow at her as he joined them.

  Sheila shrank away without comment.

  Ushara returned Sheila's blaster to her. "They've locked us out."

  "Oh no, Mama, you didn't," Trajen said in the feigned accent of a teenaged girl. "Not on my base, bitches."

  Using his powers, he blew the door completely off their ship. It went flying thirty feet into the air to land with a deafening clatter a full fifty yards away.

  Trajen turned to Sheila who stood gaping. "Damn blast charge. Used too much."

  She didn't say a word as she stepped back and put more distance between her and Trajen.

  "You should probably wait out here for us, Sheila." And with that, he led Ushara on board while Sheila decided that it was best to stay put.

  Wide-eyed as they entered the ship, Ushara was stunned that Trajen had used his powers like that. Trajen never exposed his Trisani origins to anyone, for any reason. But she was glad he'd made an exception as they wended their way through the dark, unfamiliar ship.

  With Trajen's massive psionic tracking abilities, it didn't take long to find them. The crew was in the cargo area with Jullien, on the verge of gutting him. They even had him tied shirtless to a piece of damaged cargo like some kind of animal sacrifice for an angry god.

  When Ushara started forward, they turned and drew weapons.

  Placing his hand on her shoulder to hold her in place, Trajen burst out laughing.

  She, however, wasn't so amused.

  "Well, I'm glad I brought cheer to someone before I died," Jullien said churlishly.

  Trajen continued to laugh. "Yeah, that you did, punkin'." He wiped at his eyes. "Boy, we have got to quit meeting like this. You get yourself into more shit. They have no idea who you are. What you're worth." He started laughing again. "Oh dear gods ... this may be the dumbest group to ever live." He looked at Ushara. "It's tempting to kill them just on those grounds, alone."

  "What the hell is this?" The captain stepped forward. "Get off my ship!"

  That sobered Trajen instantly. He let go of Ushara and straightened as a look of feral death settled in his dark eyes. "You better find another tone, slag. Fast." He passed a pointed stare to the ones closest to Jullien. "Step away from my friend or your fondest body parts are going to start hitting the floor. And you will miss them. Trust me."

  Jullien's ties came loose and his shirt returned to him. That instantly told them who and what Trajen was.

  And it told Ushara a lot about Jullien's own persuasive powers and charisma over others. Trajen didn't lightly expose himself to anyone. Honestly, she hadn't expected him to help her rescue Jullien. She'd only alerted him to this situation as a matter of protocol.

  The fact he was here ...

  That was impressive.

  For him to call Jullien friend was unprecedented. In all the years she'd known Trajen, she'd never heard him laugh. Maybe a slight sarcastic chuckle.

  Never this.

  The captain stiffened. "Do you know who I am?"

  "Yes and my buddy behind you iced a Chiller you brought on board my station. Do you really think I give a flying fuck who you are, who your father is or anything else?" Trajen stepped aside. "Ushara? Take Dagger and leave. Now."

  She didn't hesitate to obey.

  Jullien was another matter. He only went as far as Trajen's shoulder and stopped. "Don't do it."

  Trajen scowled at him. "Excuse me? Boy ... this is not your concern. Not the time or the place."

  Jullien refused to back down or flinch. "And you heard me, old man. Let them go. Don't risk yourself."

  Arching one feral brow, Trajen crossed his arms over his chest. "Rather difficult as their door is currently laying in the center of my bay."

  "They have the Caronese battleship they hauled in. It's fully functional. Let them fly it out."

  Something strange was passing between them. Ushara could feel it with every instinct she possessed. Yet she had no idea what it was.

  After a few seconds, Trajen conceded. "Very well. There you have it, slags. Get off my station and be grateful for my mercy. I never want to see your faces again." He turned toward her. "Shara? Summon the HC to escort them to the edges of our territory and make sure they leave us without harm."

  Jullien kept her shielded with his body until they were clear of the ship.

  Once they were in the bay, she paused to call the Hadean Corpsmen, then turned toward Jullien who was working at a kiosk. "What did I just miss?"

  "Hang on a sec, there's a few things I need to take care of, real quick."

  Trajen didn't join them until after the crew was on board the Caronese ship, under heavy armed escort, and they were going through the launch clearance. "What exactly did you do to that ship?" he asked Jullien.

  Jullien shrugged. "Deactivated their HD and LD. Reactivated the homing beacons. Sent out a hidden distress call on the Caronese EDB. By the time they hit the outer edge of Gorturnum space, the Caronese should have a full welcoming party for them. Since Senator Nylan's son was the ship's commander and they killed him while capturing it, he'll be hellbent on revenge. They won't make it back to Caron alive. And you won't have their blood on your hands, and will not have broken any Tavalian Code or law that you have to answer for with the UTC."

  "You are one devious little bastard." Trajen shook his head. "Don't know if I should be impressed or afraid."

  "Bit of both."

  "Yeah..." Trajen glanced over to the door he'd ripped off their ship. "Guess we both have unresolved childhood anger issues."

  "Yeah and I don't believe in burning bridges. Rather I bomb those mothers to the ground and toast marshmallows over their smouldering remains."

  "I'm going to remember that."

  They fell silent as the Caronese ship launched.

  Sheila came out of her office completely distressed ... until she saw Jullien standing at the kiosk. Then she ran at him, and to Ushara's complete shock, she threw herself into his arms. "Oh thank God! You're all right."

  He looked as baffled as Ushara felt. "Um, yeah."

  Sheila patted him on the back. "Well don't be so stupid next time, shithead."

  "Honestly, I was trying not to be so stupid this time. You see how it turned out. Perhaps next time I should try for an all-out moron. That might actually work for me."

  Laughing, she sighed. "No one else understands me like you do, boy. So stop being an idiot. If you're late for work tomorrow, I'm going to kick your ass."

  He checked his watch. "Well, it's been a good fifteen minutes since my last ass-kicking. I should be due a new one by morning. I shall look forward to it, mu tara."

  With one last growl at Jullien, Sheila chucked him on the arm and left.

  Ushara grimaced at him as Sheila crossed the bay and returned to her office. "How can you stand the way she talks to you?"

  "What that? I think she's hilarious."

  "You're not serious?"

  Yet he was. She could see the sincerity in his brownish-green eyes. "Trust me, I know the difference between someone who's churlish by nature because they're trying to protect themselves from being harmed by others, and someone whose barbs are meant to let blood. Sadly for her, others can't distinguish it. And so she does more harm to herself by trying to form a protective barrier from strangers than she would if she'd just be nice. But I understand the need to strike the first blow before they do. I certainly don't hold it against her, and I know she doesn't mean it. Besides my ego isn't that fragile. It would require that I actually possess one."

  Trajen snorted. "Anyway..." He jerked his chin toward the abandoned ship. "It appears we have a spare vessel. Would you like it, Lord Jullien? Seems only fair since they were planning to gut you on it?"

  "Don't need that piece of shit. Can't fly it after some thoughtless bastard ripped the door off its hinges." He passed an amused stare toward Trajen. "I'm thinking it should go to Sheila since she didn't get her payment for the work they'd commissioned from her. Besides, her daughter's treatments run high. I don't have any dependents. I drink rather cheap, as in free, tap water these days."

  "Yeah, but you could replace those shitty boots." Trajen raked a sneer over them.

  Jullien arched a brow. "Why? I like these boots. They're broken in. And they come with free air-conditioning. I hear they're even trying to patent this idea in the Oksana desert region, only there, they're called sandals. It's true. Look it up, if you don't believe me. It's the latest fashion craze."

  Laughing again, Trajen shoved at him. "Shut the hell up." With an irritated growl, he started away from them, then stopped to look back with a fierce frown. "Why do I like you, again?"

  "It's the fangs. It makes us look all cute and cuddly."

  "Yeah. That must be it." And with that, Trajen wandered off.

  Ushara cocked her head as she looked down at Jullien's ragged boots. "Why don't you replace those?"

  He shrugged. "Don't know. Guess I'm too busy wasting creds on frivolous things like food, power, and rent."

  "And my sister's ship?"

  "Your sister has four daughters to feed."

  "Then why don't you let me replace your boots?"

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