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Lords of the Dark: A Darkspace Saga Novella

Page 3

by B. C. Kellogg


  The pyramid, Tarillion came to realize, was far larger than he had imagined. Over the centuries the planet’s jungle had climbed up its sides. The pyramid temple extended far down into the thick of the jungle.

  At least it was cool and dark on the inside. He held up a light, Apta standing next to him. They had been walking for hours.

  “A Locc was here once,” she said, running her hand over the runes carved into the temple walls. “I can feel it. We’re getting close, Lees. One, maybe two planets more…”

  He flashed the light down the corridor ahead. “What are we looking for?”

  “An altar,” she said. “Same as the last planet.”

  He moved ahead, Apta now trailing behind him. “This corridor is getting wider,” he said. “We—”

  There was a flash of light at the far end of the corridor. Tarillion’s muscles tensed, ready for action.

  “Heik,” he muttered. Apta looked at him, suddenly worried.

  Tarillion switched off the light and maneuvered them into an alcove. She was pressed against him, and as they waited for the men to pass, he was keenly aware of her body again.

  “Like old times,” she murmured into his ear. He smiled despite himself.

  The light faded and he looked out into the corridor. “Leave the light off,” he said, pressing it into her hand. “They’ll see it. We’ll go the rest of the way by feel.”

  He placed a hand against the damp temple walls and walked in the direction of the altar room. Apta held his other hand, her hand gripping him firmly.

  His hand paused as they passed from the corridor into the altar room. The walls were curved in the altar room.

  “The light,” he said to her.

  The light blinded them for a brief moment. Tarillion looked for the stone tablet that was supposed to be at the center of the room.

  There was nothing there.

  “Lords damn them,” Apta cursed. “This is a false altar room. A decoy. The real room’s got to be on the other side of the temple!”

  Exactly where Heik’s men were headed.

  Apta darted out of the room, running. Tarillion ran after her.

  “Qloe—stop!”

  His heart hammered in his chest as he chased after her. He saw the light tumble to the ground, but could hear her footsteps still. He grabbed the light and switched it off as he ran, trying not to trip on the uneven stone floors.

  Then he heard her cry out.

  Chapter 5

  They got her. He looked around him. There was nowhere to go, left or right.

  Up, he realized. He looked up. There were holes in the ceiling above.

  Tarillion dug his fingers into the wall, finding purchase in the deeply etched runes. He heaved himself up, climbing up despite the slippery walls. He hung for a moment at the top of the wall before slowly pulling himself up into the opening in the ceiling, dropping into a kneeling position.

  His gamble had worked so far. The tunnel above the corridor was small, but he could crawl along it towards Heik’s men and Apta.

  His elbows and knees ached as he moved. There was a glimmer of light twenty feet away—he could see it through the holes in the ceiling next to him.

  There were voices. Men’s voices.

  He reached for the lasgun at his hip. He continued to crawl, the weapon gripped tightly in his right hand.

  The voices grew louder. Ten feet ahead he could see a larger hole in the ceiling, where light from the room below came through.

  “...till the captain gets a hold of you,” a man was saying. “Slippin’ out right from under the squad on Cire. Those men died because of you, sweet thing. And I mean to make sure that you’re punished for it.”

  Tarillion gritted his teeth as he pulled himself towards the opening. He peered down, holding his breath.

  They had Apta in cuffs, on her knees. The men surrounded her, with their lasguns at the ready. Their leader was holding a small stone tablet in his hand.

  Tarillion narrowed his eyes and inhaled slowly, steadying his hands. He set the lasgun to neutralize-stun, before he took aim, targeting the man closest to Apta.

  He exhaled and pulled the trigger.

  The man went down. Before his comrades could react Tarillion fired again, taking out the leader. Then one man. And finally the last one.

  He lowered the lasgun, smelling burnt ozone in the air. Apta looked up immediately, her chest heaving.

  He dropped through the opening, landing in a crouch on the floor. As he stood up and straightened, she stared at him.

  “Thanks,” she finally said, as he walked towards her.

  Caught between anger and relief, he picked up the tablet and grabbed the cuffs.

  “Let me go,” she said, squirming.

  “Not until we’re out of here,” he snapped. “I can’t take the risk that you’ll run off again.”

  She stared at him for a moment, as if in shock. “Let go,” she repeated. “I want these cuffs off.”

  “No,” he said simply, and pulled her towards the corridor.

  “I can take care of myself!” she exclaimed as they exited the temple. Tarillion tapped his comms, sending a signal to the Lusus. Their ship was hidden in the jungle miles away from the temple. They would only have to wait; Jeq would send a small shuttle to pick them up.

  “Seems to me that you can’t,” he stated, advancing on her.

  She looked as if she was ready to punch him. He unlocked the cuffs anyway, letting them fall to the ground.

  She lunged at him, but he was ready for her. He caught her and grabbed her wrists. “These’ll need medical attention,” he said, running a finger over the skin where the cuffs had cut.

  She didn’t push away. For a long moment she wavered. Finally, she softened against him.

  He dipped his head. She raised her chin. He kissed her, her lips hot and yielding under his mouth.

  She kissed him back, her hands sliding up over his shoulders.

  Absorbed in her, he barely noticed when the shuttle landed softly next to them.

  “Captain,” he heard Jeq’s voice. He sounded amused. “Glad you found what you were looking for.”

  Apta rolled over onto her stomach on the bed, starlight shining on her smooth skin. She was careless; the sheet barely covered her naked back. Half-dressed, Tarillion stood at the viewport, meaning not to stare but unable to tear his eyes away.

  She held the small stone tablet from 837YQ.4 in her hands, toying with it curiously. He joined her on the bed, sitting down next to her. “We’re closer than ever, you know,” she said, offering it to him.

  Tarillion turned the tablet over in his hands. It bore the same inscription that prior tablets had. But what Apta had taught him was that there were inscriptions within the inscriptions—tiny delicate carvings that human fingers could feel.

  “So we are,” he said, his thoughts a million miles away.

  She rested her head against his thigh. He reached down, running a hand through her silky black hair.

  “Lees,” she said. “Why are you doing this?”

  He looked down at her. “Because I’m not an idiot,” he said. “A woman like you gives me a chance and—”

  She smiled. “Not me,” she said. “This. Serving the Empire. You’re a good captain. Your men respect you—more than that, they like you. But you…” she trailed off for a moment. “You don’t belong in the Empire,” she insisted. “I’ve known Imperials. But you’re not like them.”

  He coiled a lock of her hair around his finger. “I’ve got the same haircut. Same uniform, same boots, same lasgun…”

  “You know that’s not what I mean.” She rested her chin on him and took the tablet out of his hands. “Why are you still in the Imperial navy?”

  Tarillion rubbed a hand over his chin. Stubble was growing there, and he would have shaved it if Apta hadn’t begged him not to. She liked the rough brush of his skin against hers.

  “Well, first of all, they’d probably shoot me for desertion,” he sa
id. “They tend to take a dim view of deserters. I could never quit the service of the Empire until I’m old and gray.” He remembered Karsath’s warning: your mind and skills belong to the Empire.

  “Why did you join in the first place?”

  He considered. “I didn’t have much of a choice,” he said. “I had good marks in school for mathematics and abstract thinking. If I had refused to join, they had the right to punish my parents by proxy. I had my choice of engineering or command track at the Academy. I chose the latter.”

  “You never believed in the Empire?”

  He smiled at her. “Of course I did,” he said. “You don’t grow up in the heart of the Empire, attending Imperial schools and academies your entire childhood without coming to believe in it,” he said. “When I received my commission they sent me to Bespiuhiri.”

  Her eyebrows climbed. “Bespiuhiri?” She seemed to look at him in a new light. “Bespiuhiri was a slaughter,” she said.

  “I know,” he said. “I was there.”

  She drew herself up.

  He paused, drawing on memories that he’d long since suppressed. Memories that only haunted him in his sleep. “I was young,” he said. “Fresh from the Academy. I was the first officer of the Pyre. I shouldn’t have been assigned there, with that kind of a rank...but in those days, annexations were constant. They gave the first officer of the Pyre his own ship and his own assignment on the other side of the Empire. The captain of the Pyre taught me everything I needed to know about annexations. I was young, eager to prove myself, and he put me in charge of assault troops on the ground. I had my orders, and I executed them. I killed thousands. Maybe more.”

  He got up, reaching for the bottle of Tynesian whiskey. “Warfare is always different on the ground than in space,” he said, pouring a glass and handing it to her. “And combat of any kind is different when you experience it live, versus what they teach you in the books.”

  She tasted the whiskey and handed the glass back to him. “You had orders,” she said, as if she was trying to convince herself. “Your superiors would have killed you if you didn’t follow them.”

  He smiled without humor. “I should have let them,” he said, and downed the rest of the glass.

  “It’s all or nothing, you know,” she said. “No halfway, no in-between.”

  He put the whiskey glass away. “You’re not the first person to tell me that.”

  “You don’t have to stay in the Empire,” she said, her voice low and soft. “You don’t even have to finish this mission. I know better than anyone how to stay out of the Empire’s eye.”

  He kissed her. “You are either very clever or very stupid,” he said.

  She pushed him down on the bed and climbed on top of him. “I’ll let you decide,” she said, and kissed him back.

  Chapter 6

  “What do the locals call it?” he asked, gazing at the green-gray planet before them. Apta stood next to him, dressed in navy fatigues.

  “Ipsring,” she said, absorbed by the tablet.

  Tarillion checked the lasgun at his side. It was fully charged. After their exploit at 837YQ.4 he was more wary than ever. The Secace was close, and Heik was no doubt eager to take revenge on him for surprising his men and rescuing Apta from him—for the second time.

  They ducked into the shuttle. Ipsring looked as innocuous as any planet Tarillion had ever seen from orbit, but there was no telling what it was like on the surface, except that snowstorms were common.

  Tarillion piloted the shuttle himself, Apta close at his side. She prepared their equipment—a light, a comms device, and a small lasgun for herself. She watched as he guided the shuttle through the clouds.

  “We make a good team, you and I,” she said, her meaning clear.

  He smiled. She hadn’t stopped trying to convince him to leave the Empire since they returned from 837YQ.4. Although he never revealed his thoughts to her, he found himself wondering what life would be like away from the Empire—away from the Lusus.

  It was always thoughts of the Lusus that ended his consideration. If he left, without completing his mission, there was no doubt that Karsath would make good on his threat to punish his crew and dismantle his ship.

  And the Lusus was his. He could no more let the Lusus and her crew come to harm than he could allow harm to come to Apta.

  He watched her. She was gazing out from the cockpit window at the planet below. Even dressed in drab Imperial fatigues she was beautiful. She turned, aware that she had caught his eye.

  “We’re close to the end,” she said. “I promise.”

  The wind tore at their clothes and chapped their skin.

  They were far from any civilized settlements, and as far as Tarillion could tell, there were no pyramids in sight that were similar to what they had seen on prior planets. Still, Apta forged ahead, winding a path through the low-lying, brittle plants that spread across Ipsring’s surface.

  “Where are we going?” he shouted to her.

  “Down here,” she called back. She ducked and suddenly disappeared.

  Tarillion looked closer. There was a pathway camouflaged by rocks and foliage. It led into the earth.

  He followed her, reaching out by instinct to touch the walls of the tunnel. They were covered by runes, as the temple on 837YQ.4 had been. It was reassuring. They were on the right path.

  Apta raised a light in the darkness. The light threw light on the runes. He wondered what it meant—what it all meant.

  “What do the runes say?” he asked. They’d been so hurried on prior planets that he’d never bothered to ask.

  “They record the history of the Locc,” she said. “But no one knows how to read them anymore. They were created by a race that worshipped the Locc as gods.”

  “Not humans?” he asked.

  “Humans think they are gods,” she said.

  They lapsed into silence as they went deeper into the tunnels. The dim light from the surface of the planet faded.

  “The altar room,” he said. “Is that where the Locc would be?”

  “We’ll find out,” she said.

  Apta cursed as their light snuffed out. “We should have brought an extra charge,” she whispered. She grabbed his wrist and pulled him along. The path was dipping lower and lower. Tarillion touched his hand to his lasgun. Its weight on his hip was reassuring.

  “Almost,” she said to him. “I can feel the corridor widening. We’re almost there.”

  She was right. He could sense the claustrophobic tunnel beginning to expand.

  He reached out and touched the wall, feeling it suddenly disappear as they stepped into what had to be the altar room.

  It was impossible to see anything in the darkness, much less a small stone tablet.

  He reached for his lasgun and activated it; the small status light blinked on. Lifting it up, he shined the tiny light around them.

  His hand tightened on the trigger.

  It’s a trap.

  “Captain,” Heik said, his voice oily with satisfaction. “What a surprise to see you here.”

  He was surrounded by Heik’s men, and Apta stood next to Heik. One of Heik’s soldiers flicked on a light, illuminating the empty room.

  “You can drop the lasgun,” Heik said. “It’s one thing to stun my men but another to assault a captain. And you must admit, Lees, that in this instance you have been outmaneuvered. It would be ungentlemanly to continue to resist.”

  Tarillion looked to Apta. Her face was unreadable.

  “Ah,” said Heik, smiling as he looked at her. “I see that you were...close. What a pity that your association must end now.”

  “Qloe,” said Tarillion, refusing to address Heik. She looked back at Tarillion with eyes that burned. There was no trace of regret or shame on her face.

  “I confess that I was surprised when she contacted me,” said Heik. “After searching for her for so long, she came to me freely. But you must remember what she is, and who she is, Lees,” he said. “A bounty
hunter. A creature who will always choose the highest bidder—the man with the most to offer. And that, my friend, is not you.”

  “Go, Captain Tarillion,” said Apta. “Adon won’t hurt you if you go now.”

  Adon? His gaze hardened. Had she been Heik’s agent all along?

  “You planned this,” he said to her.

  She didn’t flinch. “Lees,” she said. “Please listen to me.”

  “How touching,” said Heik flatly. He raised his lasgun at Tarillion’s chest. “But this is taking far too long, and I’ve got a mission to complete.”

  The neutralizer stun hit Tarillion like a punch to his chest.

  When Tarillion woke up he was flat on his back, sprawled next to the gangplank of his shuttle. The neutralizer stun had left him with a low grade headache that throbbed insistently at the base of his skull.

  He sat up. Aside from the headache he was unbroken, and the cold hadn’t affected him due to the environmental safeguards built into his uniform.

  Heik knew better than to kill him. Admiral Karsath would have been displeased. Besides, the punishments that Karsath had threatened were far worse than a simple, clean death by lasgun.

  Instead, Heik delivered him to his shuttle. He had already moved on with the intention of finding the Locc and completing the mission. No doubt he relished the thought of watching Karsath punish Tarillion in due course.

  As he climbed back onto his feet, he felt anger beginning to burn in his gut.

  To hell with him, he thought. To hell with all of it.

  The anger drove him forward as he staggered into the shuttle. Karsath had been right—and so had Apta, despite her treachery. There were no shades of gray with the Empire. It was all or nothing.

  He had to get back to the Lusus.

  Chapter 7

  Tarillion stared out at the nothingness through the viewport on board the Lusus. They remained in orbit around Ipsring. The table was covered with datapieces and stone tablets, but the room was empty in the dead hours of the ship’s artificial day-night cycle.

 

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