He Who Crosses Death (Star Warrior Quadrilogy Book 3)

by Isaac Hooke

  He squeezed her hand and then darkness enveloped her once more. She felt an incredible sense of loss. Like she had been reborn, and now was gone back to oblivion.

  But then she opened her eyes a moment later. She was lying on some sort of stretcher. No, she was in a pod of some kind, judging from the curved, close walls on either flank. That pod had seen better days—the top edges were jagged as if the entire upper half had been torn off.

  She felt stiff all over and her muscles ached. She suddenly regretted that she could feel again. Oblivion was almost preferable to this.

  But I’m alive.

  And that was something.

  Tane was looking down at her. He smiled weakly. He was wearing a helmet with the faceplate open.

  She was filled with overwhelming joy upon seeing him. Just an incredible, all-encompassing joy. She wanted to leap up and hug him, or kiss him, and she almost did, but something stopped her.

  Yes, something was wrong. His features were very pale, almost waxen, and his eyes were sunken. The blood had drained from his lips. His smile was obviously strained, and she thought she saw pain in his eyes. Those eyes... had they ever been so haunted? What happened to Tane while she was gone?

  Speaking of gone… where had she been?

  What the hell had happened?

  Tane abruptly dropped from view, vanishing behind the curved walls of the pod as if he had collapsed.

  “No!” Sinive said.

  She scrambled upright. Past the edges of the pod, she saw others coming toward her—she recognized Lyra and Jed, Gia and Nebb, but she had eyes only for Tane.

  She slid her legs over the jagged edge of the stasis pod—the metal cut into her calves, as she was wearing only her white dress, but she didn’t care. She leaped down into the swamp, and was vaguely aware of the sting as the murky water bit into her fresh wounds.

  Tane was floating in the marsh on his back, buoyed by his spacesuit. Beyond his open faceplate, blood poured from all of his orifices—eyes, nose, mouth, and ears.

  Those bleeding, hollow eyes of his were barely open.

  “I’m sorry,” Tane said, closing his eyelids.

  “Don’t you leave me!” Sinive said, wrapping her arms underneath his spacesuit and hauling his heavy torso up out of the swamp. “Not now!”

  But Tane had already gone.

  17

  Tane opened his eyes.

  He was in a sickbay, it looked like, given the surgical white colors all around him, and the neatly placed medical instruments next to his bedside. Not to mention the surgical robot that had him under observation. Then there was the smell: the cloying odor of antiseptic that filled the air. He could hear a heart rate monitor beeping away beside him.

  According to his HUD, his chip was connected to the Musenet. That meant he was aboard the Mosaic.

  He glanced at the time in the lower right of his vision. If what he saw was correct, two full days had passed since he’d passed out in the swamp.

  He wanted to sit up, but felt lazy, so he tapped into the remote interface of the bed. He had access to the motor controls, and activated the midsection, lifting the upper portion of the bed underneath him so he was propped up.

  When he had risen a comfortable amount, he deactivated the motor controls. He sensed motion to his left and turned his head to look that way.

  Sinive was sitting in the chair next to his bed and looking right at him.

  “An angel,” Tane breathed.

  A smile flickered across her lips. “It’s good to see you, too. You’re sweet as ever.” She stood and leaned over him to plant a kiss on his temples. Her lips were warm, welcoming.

  “Just the temples?” Tane said.

  “Have to give you something to look forward to,” Sinive said mischievously. “A reason to get out of here.”

  “Oh, I’ve missed you,” Tane said.

  “And I you,” Sinive said. “We thought you were going to die.”

  “Was it that bad?” Tane said.

  “Uh, yeah,” Sinive said.

  Tane stared into her eyes with longing. “As much as I hate to say it, maybe dying would have been for the best. Even if it meant not seeing you ever again.”

  Her face darkened.

  “Don’t talk like that,” Sinive said. “Why would you even say such a thing?”

  “You don’t know what happened after I lost you...” Tane shook his head. “Look up the word ‘monster’ in your internal dictionary. You’ll find my name next to the entry.”

  “You’re not a monster, silly,” Sinive said.

  “Review the footage from Xalantas on the Galnet, once we get our connection back,” Tane said. “Then tell me to my face I’m not a monster.”

  She leaned close to peer directly into his eyes. “You’re not a monster.”

  She sat in the chair once more, and sighed. She stared at her crossed palms in her lap.

  “Lyra told me everything,” Sinive said. “I died. Died. As in, the never coming back sort of thing. But you brought me back, somehow. Despite all odds. You brought me back.” She lowered her voice. “I have no memory of dying. None at all. Probably a good thing.” She was quiet a moment. “And yes, I already viewed the archives the residents of Xalantas live-streamed during the attack. Gia had Muse cache some of it from the Galnet before leaving the last system, and she showed me. I was shocked at first, I admit. No one is supposed to be that powerful. But there you were, at the center of the carnage, dealing death like you were born to it. I didn’t recognize you, to be honest. Your face was twisted into an expression of… I don’t know, I guess the best description is: pure hatred.”

  Tane sighed. “Like I said, monster.”

  “No,” Sinive said. “You shouldn’t feel guilty. All of those people deserved to die. They were trying to enslave you and the rest of us. They nearly succeeded. I don’t feel a shred of pity for them.”

  “They were just following orders,” Tane said. “You served in the TSN, you know what it’s like. I’m sure none of those men and women truly wanted to be there. And what about the civilians? In the archives, didn’t you see me destroying the buildings around the terminal? I’m sure there were innocent men and women hiding inside each.” He shook his head. “It’s just not safe for me to be among the ordinary population. Now that I have you back, we need to get as far away from civilization as we can.”

  “What if I don’t want to leave civilization?” Sinive asked.

  Tane regarded her uncertainly. “Then I guess I’ll go alone. Or with whoever else wants to join me. I haven’t told the others my plans yet. I’ve hinted at it, but never laid out anything solid. But I suppose now’s the time.”

  “Oh, they’ll know now,” Sinive said. She glanced toward the ceiling. “The walls have ears.”

  “Greetings,” Muse said on cue.

  “Ah,” Tane said.

  “I’ve already informed Gia that you are awake,” the Mosaic’s AI said. “Lyra and Jed will arrive shortly.”

  “But I want some time alone with my—”

  The sickbay hatch opened: Lyra and Jed stood in the outer passageway. Lyra had reduced her armored dress to a thin body-clinging fabric, while Jed’s body armor was similarly diminished—all the better to traverse the cramped ship.

  “I suppose I’ll leave you for a while,” Sinive said. “I’m sure you have a lot to talk about with our Volur friends.”

  “But we have a lot to talk about ourselves,” Tane pleaded.

  She reached out, grabbed his hand. “We’ll talk later.” She squeezed slightly.

  “I look forward to it,” Tane said, pressing back harder.

  She smiled sadly, then stepped past the two Volurs and into the passageway. The hatch closed behind her, leaving Jed and Lyra inside.

  Tane stared at Lyra. The woman’s expression was unreadable. As was Jed’s. “So?”

  “I don’t even know where to begin,” Lyra said. “If you were anyone else, I’d slap you in the face and call you a selfish
son of a bitch.”

  Tane frowned. “I don’t know how I can be selfish, considering what I did for Sinive out there…”

  “Yes, what you did…” Lyra said. “Almost killed yourself. For what? One person.”

  “I almost died the same way for you,” Tane said. “In fact, we lost Sinive during your rescue, in case you forgot. Which is why we had to come here in the first place.”

  “You’re too hard on him,” Jed told Lyra.

  She sighed, shook her head. “Maybe you’re right. I told myself I wouldn’t say anything, but I couldn’t hold back.” She returned her attention to Tane. “So what happened to you anyway? Did one of the rock creatures get you?”

  “No, none of that,” Tane said. “Sadly, I overextended myself. Summoning that grazer put me over the edge.”

  “Is that what that was?” Jed said. “I’ve never seen anything like it. Though I’m sure if I delved deep enough into the Volur histories, I could find something.”

  Lyra shot Jed an appraising look: it was the closest to a scowl Tane had ever seen her give the man. She obviously didn’t want him changing the subject.

  If Jed noticed her gaze, he gave no indication of it, his expression remaining nonchalant. However, he didn’t say anything more.

  Lyra returned her attention to Tane. “Overextended yourself. So you did this to yourself… unbelievable.”

  Tane forced a grin. “Guess I’m a glutton for punishment.”

  “You smile now, but it wasn’t funny at the time,” Lyra said grimly. “Not at all. You were bleeding from all orifices. Your nervous system was fried. I stole stamina from Gia, Chase, Jed, and even Nebb. It wasn’t enough. I could only partially heal you. And barely stabilized your condition. We had to rush you back to the ship, and the medical robots finished the job.”

  “Well, thank you,” Tane said. “From the bottom of my heart.” He pursed his lips. “What about infection? We were worried about microcrillia equivalents?”

  “So far, the medical robots say you’re clear,” Lyra said. “They’ll let us know if that changes.” She shook her head. “You have to stop doing this. You can’t put yourself needlessly in danger going forward. You’re the Bender of Worlds. The galaxy needs you.”

  “Yeah, about that,” Tane said. “I’ve decided to head to a backwater planet somewhere. A quiet place to live out the rest of my days. I’m done. Saving Sinive was the last mission for the Bender of Worlds. I’m going to take off my World Bending hat and retire. You know how it is. Oh, but I do want that skeleton packed up. The grazer’s. We need to fit it into the cargo bays, in case anyone needs reviving at a future date.”

  “I’m not sure how you could ever actually want to revive someone again after all that,” Muse said.

  Lyra actually scowled this time, her gaze on the ceiling.

  “Sorry,” the Mosaic’s AI said. “Gia uploaded the recordings her helmet made shortly after coming aboard. It looked like quite the fight.”

  Lyra waved a dismissive hand, and for a moment Tane thought she was going to raise a Silence Cage or something to keep the AI from listening in. But she merely ignored the comment and returned her attention to Tane.

  “We already dismantled most of the skeleton,” Lyra said. “And stowed as much as would fit in the cargo bays of both the Mosaic and the Red Grizzly.”

  “Nice, thank you,” Tane said. “And what about the dwellers? Do we have any news on them? S’Wraathar?”

  “While waiting for repairs to complete, we watched the approaches to the alien ships as you suggested, but the dwellers never returned. We weren’t able to destroy the vessels from orbit either—the automated defenses fired at us from the surface, and it was too much. We were forced to retreat.”

  “Too bad,” Tane said. “I’d rest better at night knowing those dwellers were stranded on Aegean Tetragon.”

  “So would I,” Lyra said.

  “By the way, any idea what that thing down there was?” Tane asked.

  “The giant insect?” Lyra answered.

  “No,” Tane said. “The other one. Looked like a rock jammed into a tank.”

  “Ah,” Lyra said. “My guess is that was a creodenti. Though why it would interfere with your Revive ritual, I can’t say. It seems obvious it wanted to kill you, though.”

  “Creodenti,” Tane said. “I have a vague memory about them from the man whose imprint taught me to Siphon. During a conversation with his teacher, the creodenti were mentioned in passing as having evolved beyond this universe.”

  “That is correct,” Lyra said. “They originally developed in our universe, but when they discovered how to Siphon their particular Essence, they eventually traveled to the universe that sourced it, leaving this one behind. Their path is similar to the one the archaeoceti followed.”

  “Makes you wonder if humanity will ever permanently move to the Lumina,” Tane said.

  “Unlikely,” Lyra said. “But if we do, it won’t be all of us. Only those who can wield the White.”

  “Hardly seems fair,” Tane said.

  “The universe isn’t fair,” Lyra said. “You know that by now. You exist, after all.”

  “Good point,” Tane said. “Was that a note of jealousy I detected in your voice?”

  “No,” Lyra said. “Only pity.”

  “By the way, Positron made something for you,” Jed said into the uncomfortable silence that followed.

  Tane glanced uncertainly at the Volur, and watched as Jed reached into his storage pouch and produced a small, gray item.

  “Fashioned from one of the grazer’s finger bones, with help from a few cutting lasers,” Jed said.

  It was a small bone crown. He remembered Tepethalean’s words:

  Wearer of the Bone Crown.

  Tane hadn’t told anyone in his party of the title the archaeoceti woman had bestowed upon him. Nor had any of them heard her speak the words, as far as he knew. And yet they had gone and made him a crown.

  “Perhaps now isn’t a good time…” Lyra said.

  “Why not?” Jed said. “The Emerald is part of who he is now. And he’ll need this to Siphon it on demand.”

  Jed offered the crown to Tane, who ran an ID on the item.

  Item: Bone Crown.

  Item type: Legendary.

  Weight: 125 g.

  Effects: Unknown.

  This crown was fashioned from the bones of a dead alien known as a grazer.

  Tane regarded the item hesitantly, and then took it. The instant he touched it, he could feel the pleasure of the Emerald lurking inside, waiting for him to part the veil so that it could spark across his nerve cells.

  He could also feel the personality of the grazer associated with that bone trying to get out, attempting to assert its influence over him. It fought and strove against him, and he had the impression of a wild animal trying to break free of its leash.

  All of a sudden an image flashed into his mind of two big jaws chomping down.

  Tane immediately set down the crown on the bedside table. “Thanks. I’ll put it to good use, I’m sure.” He hoped the Volurs didn’t notice the slight tremor of apprehension in his voice.

  “There’s something else we need to discuss,” Lyra said. Her face had become very serious.

  Tane raised an eyebrow. “Go ahead.” But he looked away to stare idly at the white bulkhead just across from him.

  What does she want from me now?

  “My sister…” Lyra said.

  Tane turned toward her. From the anguish on her face, mixed with hope, he knew immediately what she wanted. “It’s not possible.”

  “You have to create the Revive Essencework again,” Lyra said. “You have to bring back my sister. We owe her everything. Without her, you’d be in the hands of the dwellers right now, doing their bidding.”

  “I thought I told you,” Tane said. “To Revive someone, I need a body. It says it right here in the Essencework description: ‘A complete body is required: the corpse can be in any state
, as long as the requisite pieces are relatively intact.’”

  “Then we’ll get you a body,” Lyra said.

  “She’s been dead too long,” Tane said. “It won’t work, even if you desecrate her grave.”

  “You don’t know that,” Lyra said. “Tell me where it says the dead body must be under a certain age. Or if the archaeoceti specifically mentioned that. Because I quote from what you just told me: the corpse can be in any state.”

  “Okay fine, it doesn’t actually mention an age, and the archaeoceti never did, either,” Tane admitted. “But somehow, I have a feeling that reviving someone who has been dead for so long is beyond my first level abilities. And even if I could, the price would be very high. You thought the creatures we fought to save Sinive were difficult? I can only imagine what someone dead as long as your sister would bring. And we’d probably have to fend them off for a long time—maybe an hour. I doubt your sister would return to the living as fast as Sinive did.”

  “You doubt this, yes, but you really have no idea do you?” Lyra said.

  “No,” Tane admitted. “But I can tell you that at the Revive ritual I was present for, the archaeoceti who did the raising had an extremely high level in the Essencework.”

  “There you go,” Lyra said. “The archaeoceti can bring my sister back, then, if you can’t. I know they can. There has to be a way. I refuse to believe that you can bring back Sinive, and I can’t restore my Gwenyth. I refuse to allow the universe to behave so unfairly in this manner.”

  “And yet as you just told me, the universe isn’t fair,” Tane said.

  Lyra didn’t answer.

  Tane glanced at Jed. “You’re not going to back her up on this, are you?”

  Jed held Tane’s gaze, keeping silent. Tane suspected the Volur had already argued with Lyra about this, and had lost spectacularly.

  “The archaeoceti woman gave you a pyramid,” Lyra said. “You never mentioned it to any of us, but I saw. You can use this to open another portal to the Khaeota. Am I right?”

  Tane hesitated. Then: “I can.”

  “So you can open the way for me,” Lyra pressed.