by Celeste Raye
Talon said, “Now you sound like our father.”
Did he? There were worse things to sound like. Their father had been a fierce warrior and a ship captain who could fly even better than Talon. He had loved his wife and his children with an intensity unmatched by most. He had loved his people, and he had given his life in service to them. If there was any being that he had ever hoped to emulate, it was his father.
He said, “How does Margie know what she knows?”
Talon looked around the deck. He said, “I have my suspicions.”
Jeval drew closer still. “Then why don’t you tell me of them, brother?”
Talon said, “There’s something amiss with her as of late. I don’t know what it is. She’s your mate and your woman; perhaps this is something you should have noticed. I don’t know what it is. But something about her has changed.”
He groaned out, “I understand that. She never before had visions or spoke in that voice. It was…”
He froze. His entire body went stiff. Sweat broke out all along his brow. His mouth went dry and his tongue cleaved to the high arch of his palette. His eyes went wide. His gut first dropped and then clinched so tightly that a spasm rocketed through his abdomen. His fingers balled into fists.
Talon stared at him and then hastily turned his attention back to the swell of space that was threatening to toss them right into the warp-weave. “What is it?”
He couldn’t breathe. There was no way he could breathe. If what he had just thought was true, then…
No.
Impossible.
He said, “Ships.”
It was the only thing he could think of to say, and it was true. Ships, many of them, came toward them. Everyone on the deck jumped into position, ready for war. The ships drew close and the comcaster lit up. Talon hit the button. Blade appeared, his face wearing its usual raffish grin. “I see you survived.”
Talon snorted, “Did you doubt I would?”
Blade said, “You are the best captain I have ever seen. I just had to know how good you really are. This is my army. We are here to stand beside you. Do not think you shall order me, though. I have my own bones to pick with The Federation. I stand with you only as an ally against them. Any other quarrel we have or have ever had will be set aside for the moment. That is the same agreement I have reached with all who are here to begin this war.”
War.
It was official. No more rebellion, no more uprising. No more minor harassment of Federation ships.
This was full-on warfare.
Jeval’s heart sank like a stone. He said, “Take us out of here, Talon.”
Talon said, “I thought you’d never ask.”
The ships formed a line and sped away from the warp, heading east, heading toward the fleet of Federation ships run by a rebel general and the father of their biggest ally and enemy.
But even those things were not enough to take his mind off the truth that had just hit him right between his eyes. It was the truth; he knew it was the truth.
The old Oracle had said that one would come to take her place. That it would be centuries before it happened but that one would come. They had all chosen to believe her because they had no choice. She had refused to leave the surface of their original planet, claiming that she had seen already down to the end of her days and that that was where she would die. She had been gravely wounded, and the odds of her being able to survive her wounds had been low anyway, but leaving her behind had been a terrible blow to the morale of those who had escaped. Not everyone on his original planet had been lucky enough to make it to the ships in time to leave the surface before the planet was eaten by a warp.
An Oracle.
Margie?
Was it possible that Margie was their new Oracle?
He walked into the chamber he shared with her to find her stepping out of the cleansing chamber. His eyes went right to her abdomen; it was swollen, and he knew then that it was not Margie who was the Oracle that his people had long since awaited.
All of his defenses crumbled. “You’re carrying a child.”
Her head moved up and down. “Yes.”
“It was the child who spoke to you.”
She nodded. “How did you know?”
His breath came in a hard and awed gasp. “The Oracle comes.”
She stared at him. “I don’t understand.”
Jeval closed his eyes. “The Oracle brings great war and the possibility of great peace. It’s true then. The Federation will fall. Not should fall. Not must fall. Will.”
The End
Book 5: Blade
By Celeste Raye
Chapter 1
The city, drilled into the dark side of a planet thought to be lifeless, teemed with life. Most of it was life that wouldn’t survive the day-night cycle though.
Blade sidestepped a grinning shambler—a person so strung out on the illicit brew of drugs and contaminated water known as Bleck that they literally shambled—when they could even manage to stand or walk that was—and slid into a dark pocket of shadow. His hand went to his waist in an automatic gesture and his body tensed as his eyes searched the shadows that crawled around the fusty-smelling entrance to the trash-strewn alley he had just stepped into.
Lights lit the stinking streets beyond, and he could hear the pop and sizzle of some idiot’s body as it hit the laser-wired netting that lay above the city, a deterrent to anyone who would try to just jump in. The netting was a brutal killer, and few survived it. Those who did, found themselves slaughtered by the roving gangs of criminals who had laid claim to the territory of the city’s sides.
The dark grew thicker, took on the shape of a body. Blade didn’t breathe. His suit, a specially designed thing that damped down his heat sig and his infrared, clung to every inch of his taut and toned body.
Whoever was out there, they were big and very silent—two things that were the hallmarks of the better killers. But better wasn’t the best.
He was the best.
The sound of a fight broke out and diffused any other sounds his would-be assassin made as he crept closer to the mouth of the alley. Small blanket snakes, deadly poisonous things with ruby bodies and four eyes, slithered across the toes of Blade’s boots. He ignored them. He still didn’t breathe.
His body moved, all silence and intention. His knife was unerring, and it went right to the neck. The scent of Bleck and human odor filled Blade’s nostrils, making them flare. His lip curled in disgust. His voice was a hiss. “When did you start hitting the garbage?
The back pressed against Blade’s strong body stiffened. The voice was one Blade knew. “I didn’t come to kill you.”
“Good thing too,” he returned. “You’re not cut out for it anymore, Hacksaw. If I hadn’t heard you, I damn sure would have smelled you.”
Hacksaw grunted. “I came to warn you, so if you wouldn’t mind not cutting my throat, I’d appreciate it.”
Blade didn’t lower the knife. Nobody did anything for free, not there. “Name your price, and I’ll decide if your warning is worth it.”
Hacksaw said, “I should have recalled you give no fucks about living.”
“You’re right. I don’t.” He didn’t. His life had ended a long time ago. Now he only lived to spite the Federation, to make them pay for what they had stolen from him.
That thought made his gut tighten, but he kept his voice steady. “I guess you want more of the poison and are out of coin and credits.”
Hacksaw said, “Yeah I am.”
“All right.”
Hacksaw said, “I just need a little something, you know, to get me out of the agony.”
Blade sighed inwardly. Once a fool started on that shit, there was no way off. It ate into every system in every species’ bodies and took control, addicting them from the first swallow. Some fought it off and never tried it again.
Most didn’t.
Stopping, even after a single swallow, was hard. It was so highly addictive that the pa
in that came from not having it was terrible. Blade had seen people throw themselves into the netting just to escape that pain, or kill themselves in other and equally horrific ways to stop that withdrawal. “I can give you that, for the intel. Spill.”
Hacksaw said, “Coin or credit first.”
Blade only moved one hand. It slid down to his belt. He tapped out five heavy credits and held them before Hacksaw’s eyes. “Speak.”
“They come for you. The Wallens Clan. They say you took some shipment they meant to take and they intend to see a piece of the profit, over your dead body if necessary—and even if not.”
Terrific. Just what he needed. The Wallens were human, but just barely. They’d come from Old Earth, and they’d interbred to the point of madness and deformity. They believed only humans were a race worth being, and so their ideology was as screwed up as their genealogy.
They were violent and foul, and they’d kill each other in the blink of an eye for no reason at all but cross one of them, and the whole massive clan would be on you like stink on feces.
Hacksaw held his fingers out. “You vowed the payment.”
“I did. I said I’d give you something to get you out of the misery.” His blade pressed deep, separated skin from veins and bone. Hacksaw let out a startled groan, and then the sound of his blood gurgling sounded out. The little snakes crawled across his burly body as it dropped to the filthy ground of the alley.
Blade said, “Best way to save you from it, you know.”
He cleaned his knife and slid toward the mouth of the alley, tucking the credits back into his belt. His eyes scanned the streets. The pleasure slaves stood about, most of them blank-faced and tired. The wind never blew there but the sluggish currents of damp and foul air that wafted up from the bowels of the planet and the flat air that got sucked in from the planet’s surface via extractor fans did.
He took a deep breath and moved, his legs carrying him fast toward his dwelling, which was made of a combination of the dripping stone so plentiful there and bits and pieces of wrecked air crafts.
He stepped inside, his eyes missing nothing as he checked each and every corner and trap to make certain nobody had been there or was there now.
He was unsettled and anxious, no matter how much he would have liked not to be. He paused, all of his senses on full alert. His hands dropped to his weapons again, and he slid into pleats of shadows that put him behind the ones he had just spotted.
“Hello, Blade.”
Talon. The best flight captain in the universe. A Revant who had been battling the Federation for centuries. His mate, Jessica—a former Capo for the Federation and a warrior whose name had spread across the universe—Jeval—Talon’s brother—and a young and beautiful woman whose name Blade didn’t know, stood there next to Marik—another of Talon’s three brothers—and yet another woman.
Blade said, “I guess I should kill you for trying to sneak up on me,” but there was amusement in his words even as curiosity and suspicion filled him.
Talon said, “We need to talk.”
Blade said, “You know the way to my abode.”
They did, and soon they were all crowded within it. Blade offered water and food, the universal sign of trust even if he didn’t really trust that group.
He knew Talon well enough to know that Talon had his own agenda, as did every being on this side of life. He asked, “What brings you here?”
Talon said, “War against the Federation.”
Had he heard him right? Blade tapped his fingers along the hilt of his dagger. “What?”
Talon said, “Aren’t you tired of dealing indirect blows? You know all you are doing is inflicting wounds that heal far too fast. We have to take the Federation down and the time for outright war against them has come. We need you and your crews.”
Blade laughed. It was insane, that. His eyes lay on Talon’s face then moved across the faces of the others gathered there. His eyes narrowed as he asked, “Why now?”
“Because we have something we never had before. Aid from the very top of the Federation’s echelon. Aid that knows secret supply places and lines. Aid that can give us maps that Federation has never published and routes that have long since been marked as dead but are, in fact, secret trade routes and passageways for the Federation’s highest officials to travel without fear of being assassinated.”
Was he serious? If he was, that was exactly what they had been lacking all that time and having that would be exactly what was needed to assure that a real war against the tyrannical Federation could succeed.”
But how had they gotten that aid? He said, “Really? And in what form does this aid come?”
Talon said, “In the form of your father. He has turned his back on the Federation and joined our ranks.”
Blade had never expected to hear those words. He shook his head. “He is playing you for a fool. He intends to turn you all in. Die as a fool if you’d like, but count me out.”
Jeval stepped forward. “I can see past mind wipes and implants. You know that. There has never been any made that can keep my gift from finding them. He has none, and there is no treachery in him. Well, there is, but it is all directed toward the Federation. He wants it dead, and his reasons are valid and real.”
Blade’s heart tumbled within his chest.
Could that be true?
His father, General Bates, was one of the top ranking Generals in the entire universe. He was privy to secrets so huge that the Federation would probably hand him death before retirement and call it a heart failure or some other thing. It was their way, and everyone pretended to believe their lies on the matter.
Maybe that was what had motivated his father to toss his hat into the realm of rebellion.
He asked, “You do know that if we do this, there is no going back?”
Talon said, “Yes. But we could not go back even now. None of us.”
Blade considered that.
War.
Real war.
Bloody retribution for all the wrongs that the Federation had committed.
Freedom from them.
How could he say no to that?
He nodded. “I’m in, but I would suggest you clear out fast. I will meet you on Revant Two. I have to gather my crews and so on. It will take me a little time.”
Talon nodded. “Yes.”
Blade said, “Be careful not to be seen leaving my abode. I seem to have a few enemies.”
The men all looked at each other and laughed. They went back a long way. Once upon a time Blade had saved Jeval’s life after Jeval had picked a fight he could not possibly win, and Talon had saved Blade’s life on a night when a pretty young human slave had drugged his drink and tried to run a stake through his heart in order to please her master.
They left. Blade stood there, his mind swinging wildly from one thing to another. Had he just agreed to engage in open warfare?
He had, and he was looking forward to it, but before he could do that, he had to survive the moment.
Blade gathered his things fast; his stashes were mostly on other planets, and he had a loyal crew, but they rarely stepped onto the world he was on at that moment. He stayed far from them in order to protect them for the most part, but he also preferred the half-life he had there in that dim and dismal place. Hacksaw had been right about him giving no fucks about his life.
His life had ended when the Federation had killed Lauren, the woman that he had loved—still loved—so intently, despite all the years between that day and the one he now stood in.
“I know they think him trustworthy, but my father is a liar and a Federation pawn. He’s probably going to betray me at the first chance. I’ll get myself killed and ruin whatever is left of the rebel network and my own crew as well. This is stupid as hell, so why am I still packing up and getting ready to go to war, actual fucking war, with the Federation?”
Because that was what he had always wanted. War was just what he craved. Not just the sly and conniving rui
nation of the Federation’s powerful base and supply lines either.
War.
Outright, full on, and undeniable war.
“I want to take them down. I want to break the back of the Federation and then cut its head off. Then I want to make sure to salt the earth so that the next head of that particular Hydra can’t grow back.”
He gathered his things and cast one last look about. One thing was certain: he would never be able to come back there. He was either going to die, or he was going to be free.
But either of those things would keep him away from that planet forever, and the truth was, at that moment he was glad for that.
He stepped out and tensed immediately. The wind had shifted, making his nose curl. The wind said murder was in the air. It was always that way, but there was a low sound that meant many feet walking and the rattle and clatter of lasers held in tight fists was a sound he knew way too well.
Those goddamn Wallens!
He turned, heading down the alley and toward the docks—moving fast and using the shadows from the crumbling, damp-coated buildings and the shadows gathered thickly around the light cast by the gutter sconces to veil himself as much as possible.
He could hear the shouts rising on the street over, the street his place was on, and he knew that they had already gone in and seen he was gone. They would fan out, searching the hidden city for any and all clues to find him and do it as fast as possible since they had already decided to kill him.
That was the other thing about the Wallens: once they made up their minds, they were either too stupid to change those minds, or they just weren’t wired to do so. It was a big flaw, and it could be fatal for anyone they decided to kill because they would not stop until that goal was achieved.
That was something that could work to his advantage if he needed it to. His hands found the gables of a low roof, and he went upward, his body flattening to the surface of the roof. The Wallens were animal-like in many ways, and they could scent prey to a short distance. He needed to know where they were and he needed to throw them off his scent.
