Empire of Ashes: An Epic Space Opera Series (The Augmented Book 1)

by Ben Hale

  “Quis looks at the Empire with hope,” Begle said. “But after he’s been burned to the brink of death—repeatedly—that innocence will die.”

  “Better to never have hope than to lose it,” Bort agreed.

  Siena resisted the urge to strike him. The two brothers were burly and short. Although not much older than her, their irascible nature and belligerence made it clear why they had been cheap enough for Ero to purchase. Both had hair like rusted copper. It had grown to their shoulders and become an unruly mass.

  “What House did you come from?” a girl, Rahnora, asked the brothers as she joined them.

  She was the only other youth among the eleven slaves, her bright blond hair striking. Rahnora would probably have been an extremely valuable slave, except for the slight point to her ears. Krey and humans were not supposed to have children together, and offspring from such unions were scorned by slaves and krey alike. The girl’s skin was fairer than normal, and her eyes a brighter blue.

  “We came from Jek’Orus.” Bort raised his chin, his chest swelling as if his claim would be challenged.

  “First-ranked House,” Rahnora said. “I hear their slaves are forced to fight for their amusement. Those who lose are sold, are they not?”

  The question was asked with a touch of mockery, drawing a flush from the two brothers. Siena smothered a laugh. The brothers rounded on Rahnora as Begle leveled a finger at the girl.

  “At least our blood hasn’t been defiled.”

  The other slaves exiting the cargo bay froze. Siena and Lyn were equally as shocked. Rahnora turned to face him, her blue eyes flashing. Quis appeared in the hall and came to an abrupt halt, the cleaning mech in his hand.

  “What did you say?” Rahnora asked.

  Begle leaned in. “That your blood is defiled.”

  In a burst of movement, Rahnora grabbed Begle’s wrist and twisted. She drove him into the bulkhead, smashing his head against the seracrete. She put her forearm along the back of his throat.

  “If you wish to breathe again, you will not call me such names,” she said.

  Bort slunk around Rahnora and aimed a blow at her back. Anger gripped Siena, and she caught his wrist. He was bigger than her but off balance, so Siena pushed him into the bulkhead. He stumbled and struck his head on the seracrete. Blood trickled from a wound, and he glared at Siena.

  “You would defend Rahnora?” Bort growled. “She’s part krey.”

  “The krey call us animals,” Siena said, “but I’ve never seen a human behave like one.”

  The other slaves pushed past Rahnora and Siena and helped Bort to his feet. Rahnora released Begle, and the boy stumbled to join the others. Glaring at Siena, the entire group departed to clean a different corridor. The way their eyes slid off Siena, as if she were a criminal, made her flush.

  “A ferox should never be an overseer,” a woman sneered.

  “I didn’t choose it!”

  Siena hurled the words, but the resentful woman sniffed and left. Standing rigid in the center of the corridor, Siena glared at their departing backs and imagined the worst sort of assignments. Did they think she had convinced a krey to make her overseer? Did they blame her for being branded a ferox?

  Rahnora spit on the deck. “Animals,” she muttered.

  “Don’t call them that,” Lyn said, still cleaning the wall as if she did not feel the tension. “They are the dregs of slaves, those beaten and angered. It’s not their fault they’re resentful.”

  Siena pointed down the empty corridor. “They are responsible for calling Rahnora a . . .”

  Siena flushed and managed to stop before she spoke the word. Defiled. It was the highest curse one could speak to a slave, and Siena would not voice it, even if it was true.

  Rahnora sighed and turned her too-beautiful gaze on her. “You did not have to defend me.”

  Siena regarded the young woman. The touch of krey blood would make her live much longer than a normal human, perhaps even a thousand years, and her beauty only made that time seem like a curse. Siena found no reason to hate the girl, especially when she herself would probably suffer the same ridicule.

  Siena shrugged. “You should not be defined by your parents’ choices.”

  “Wise words,” Lyn said. “But it will take more than wisdom to lead that rabble.” She used her chin to point where the others had departed.

  “You should be the overseer,” Siena said. “They would listen to you.”

  “Probably.” Lyn picked up the sanitizer, and the curving mech activated with a touch. “But it wasn’t my choice.” She waved the light over the wall, eradicating the bacteria and completing the cleaning. Then she stood and stepped to the next bulkhead with a smile. “Another one clean. Only a few hundred to go. Who knew such a small ship could get so filthy?”

  Siena exchanged an amused look with Rahnora, who said, “I’ve never met a slave so cheerful about their labors.”

  “You do not choose your life,” Lyn said. “But you can choose your response. I choose to be happy.”

  “A happy slave?” Thren snorted as he joined Quis in the hall. “They do not exist.”

  Lyn merely smiled and pointed to the mech. “Did you get it working?”

  “I think so?” Quis sounded cautiously excited, but his eyes flicked down the hall to where the other slaves had left.

  Thren motioned the boy to set the mech down. “Let’s see how you did.”

  The boy, obviously brimming with excitement, stooped and turned the crystal in the back of the spiderlike mech. It flickered and then glowed, the legs lifting the mech off the deck. Long and slim, the ten legs of the mech culminated in tiny gravity generators, allowing it to stick to any surface. It skittered to a wall and climbed. It paused, and light glowed from inside its belly. The light burned the dirt on the wall, scorching it to ash.

  Siena had never thought she’d be happy to see a cleaning mech, but the bulkheads of the ship were so dirty, it would be a relief to have help, even if it was only one.

  “At least we won’t have to clean everything by hand,” Rahnora said with a smile.

  The mech crackled, and sparks burst from its back. Then it collapsed in a heap, the light from the cortex fading. Thren cursed, but Quis darted forward and picked it up.

  He returned and held it up to Thren. “Can you fix it?”

  “I . . .” The man’s anger dissipated. “I’ll try.”

  “I’ve never seen the Nova so clean,” said a new voice.

  All four turned to find Ero approaching from the end of the corridor. He paused to admire a section of clean decking, nodding in appreciation. He seemed not to notice that all the slaves except Siena were now looking to their feet, although Quis gave the krey furtive looks.

  Siena fleetingly wondered why she was not afraid of Ero. In Laurik’s house, she never would have looked her in the eye. But with Ero, she just didn’t have the same fear.

  “You did tell us to clean the ship,” Siena remarked.

  “You’re just doing it faster than expected,” Ero said.

  “You need not concern yourself,” Lyn said, a ghost of a smile appearing and disappearing on her face. “The ship will take many years to fully clean.”

  “Excellent.” Ero grinned and motioned to Siena. “Come.”

  “Are we leaving again?”

  “Nothing so exciting,” Ero lamented.

  She cast an uncertain look to Lyn, who shrugged, but Ero was already departing. Siena hurried to catch up. When they reached the riser, Ero pointed to a long, pointed object resting at the side of the circle of glass.

  “Have you ever installed a power converter?”

  “No.” Siena pointed back the way they had come. “Thren is much better with mechs.”

  Ero waved in dismissal. “It’s easy enough. Let’s go.”

  He stepped on the riser, and she realized Ero expected her to pick up the power converter. She glanced down the hall, but Lyn just shrugged and picked up the sanitizer. Rahnora picke
d up her own, and Siena reluctantly reached for the converter. She hoped she wouldn’t cause the ship to explode.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  She tipped the long, cylindrical converter and put her fingers beneath the edge. With a grunt, she managed to get it off the floor, but her legs buckled beneath her. It was heavier than she thought. She tried again and just managed to keep her footing by leaning against a bulkhead.

  “Are you sure you don’t want another slave?” Her voice was strained, and even annoyed.

  “Don’t worry.” Ero swept a hand in dismissal. “Replacing a power converter is as easy as they come.”

  Siena wanted to ask more, but Ero seemed distracted. They entered the riser, and the circle of white light carried them to the level above. Ero had been talkative before, but this time the silence hung between them while he guided her to a compartment near the rear of the ship.

  The room was tiny, barely large enough for a single stack of crates. Ero stepped between the crates and reached up to the ceiling to press a hidden crystal. The rear of the small chamber swished upward, revealing a hidden compartment.

  Siena stepped into the room, and her eyes lifted to the hovering gravity sphere. She’d seen them before, but this was small, the black seracrete sphere glowing purple. Ten power converters extended from the top of the drive, and the light inside turned from purple to white as the compressed gravity was converted into white light. The power converters connected to crystalline conduits that threaded into the superstructure of the ship and passed out of view in the bulkheads.

  “What is this?” she asked.

  “A secrete gravity drive,” Ero said. “I’m sure you noticed the primary drive was missing.”

  “You’d be surprised at how little I know about krey starships.” She thought he’d be annoyed with her touch of sarcasm, but he merely chuckled.

  “Gravity is produced from anything with mass, a planet or a sun. It excites a certain particle, which is gathered and compressed into a reinforced ball of seracrete. That’s about it.”

  One of the power converters flickered, its purple light spurting out through a crack in the side. The energy glowed red in the crystal and seracrete. Ero pointed to the sputtering converter.

  “I’m sure you can handle it,” he said.

  “I’ve never even touched a power converter, and now you’re going to let me replace one?”

  “It’s not as hard as it sounds.”

  Ero was at the edge of the compartment, running his hand along the seracrete edge as if searching for something. The secret gravity drive chamber had been built in between other compartments, so the outer wall had curving supports and uneven ridges.

  “And if I blow up the ship?” she asked.

  He laughed but kept searching. “Then consider that your punishment for failure.”

  She eyed the gravity drive, the bottom of which was higher than an adult dakorian’s head. “How do I even get up there?”

  “You jump.”

  Ero’s voice was muffled as he stuck his head under the seracrete plating adjacent to a support. Realizing Ero would not be of any help, she squared her shoulders and jumped, the effort defiant, as if to prove it would be futile. Instead, her feet floated off the deck—and fell upward.

  She squeaked in surprise and instinctively twisted. Her back slammed into the gravity sphere, the warm seracrete drawing a pained gasp. The power converter fell from her grip and rolled up the sphere and out of sight, before bouncing off another converter.

  “You could have warned me,” she said.

  “Where would be the fun in that?”

  Ero poked his head out from behind a jutting section of wall, a mischievous smile on his face. Siena’s retort died on her lips as she realized how she’d criticized her krey owner. The same statement made to Laurik would have merited a severe burn from the inflictor. Inexplicably, Ero didn’t seem to care and talked to her like she was an equal. She decided Ero must be the most cruel of all krey and wanted to gain her trust before brutally inflicting the most pain.

  She carefully stood, her feet on the bottom of the sphere, her head pointed at the deck. An exuberant laugh escaped her lips, and she raised her hands toward the floor. When she noticed Ero watching, an amused smile on his face, she hardened her heart. She refused to the source of his entertainment.

  “I remember my first gravity sphere walk,” he said. “It was during my century training as an engineer.”

  A century, the entire life of a human, but a brief period in krey existence. He’d spent a hundred years just working on krey engineering, the equivalent of a few months for a human. She wondered what it would be like to speak of a hundred years with such casual disregard.

  “Our instructor had us repair a gravity sphere, and then build one,” he went on. “I must say it was rather enlightening, much more than the decade of seracrete metallurgy.”

  She slid her foot along the sphere, unwilling to let her feet detach from the smooth material. She looked upward at the floor, gauging the distance, wondering if a fall would break her neck. Swallowing her fear, she continued to advance along the sphere until she was sideways and gratefully wrapped her hand around a crystal power conduit. She stooped and caught the edge of the replacement part, dragging it through the conduits to reach the broken converter.

  Uncertain how to proceed, she looked to Ero for instruction. The krey withdrew a tiny, slim container from a hidden cavity in the wall. He opened it by sliding his hand around the edge, and the top swung open in a hiss of air. Inside were two T-shaped handles nestled in soft material. He withdrew one and held it aloft.

  “I knew I put them here,” he said.

  “What are those?” she asked.

  He pressed the rune at the center of the object, and white light flowed from inside, extending outward and hardening into a flat shape. The end became pointed, and the entire weapon turned translucent.

  “An energy blade,” she exclaimed in surprise.

  “An old krey weapon.” He swung it to the side and back. “Krey used these during the dakorian wars in the seventh age. Now they are considered ancient. I bought these back when I was Primus, when I wanted to learn how to fight.”

  “Why? Don’t dakorians do all the fighting?”

  She remembered her purpose and stooped to the power converter. A symbol at the side indicated unlock, and she hesitantly pressed it. The converter uncoupled and lifted off the sphere, spilling purple light around her arm. It tried to pull her in, so she leaned back, straining as if a rope was fastened around her wrist.

  “I admired dakorian battle techniques.” He ignored her struggles as he swung the weapon. “And thought it prudent to prepare in case there was a time I didn’t have a Bloodwall to protect me.”

  “That’s a cautious approach.”

  “It was.” Ero chuckled ruefully. “Until I grew bored and stashed them here.” He brushed the dust off the box and pulled out the second hilt. He discarded the case and activated the second energy blade. “I saw a vid of a krey wielding two energy blades in the Bone Crucible. He dominated for years before he was killed by a dakorian. I sought to emulate his skill, but there are not many in the Empire willing to teach such archaic combat techniques.”

  Siena found the rune at the top of the converter and pressed it, allowing the converter to fall free. It tumbled past her leg and rolled around the sphere, spilling white light from the crystal conduit. An embedded safety measure closed off the light before it could cause harm, allowing her to muscle the new one in place.

  “It’s not unlike a roak striker,” she said.

  “A what?” Ero asked.

  She groaned as she wrestled the new converter into place and pressed the bottom rune, locking it into place. Then she grabbed the crystal conduit and twisted it down onto the top of the converter. When the two were close, she pressed the top rune, and tiny threads extended to latch onto the conduit, pulling it into place. As the converter glowed and pulsed, she stood and wiped sw
eat from her brow.

  “A roak is a large insect on my previous world,” she said. “I used to hunt them in the House.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I know what a roak is. The insect is common throughout the Empire. What do you mean a roak striker?”

  She hadn’t known that roaks were so common, but she hid her confusion in a shrug. “It’s a tool we used to kill the roaks on Verdigris. It looks a lot like a blade.”

  “Show me.”

  The command was more curious than angry, so she retreated to the base of the gravity sphere and looked up to the floor. Ero waited, and she realized he was going to watch her jump the twelve feet to the floor. Gathering her courage, she jumped and twisted into a flip.

  Her body lifted off the sphere, and the gravity on the decking caught her weight, pulling her down. She rotated in the air, her body falling and swinging to put her feet on the deck. She stumbled but kept her feet before straightening, drawing a nod of approval from Ero.

  “Very agile,” he said.

  “Roaks were fast.” She tried to keep the pride from her voice and failed. “I had to be faster.”

  He extended the handle of the second energy blade to her. A real weapon. Being offered to a slave. Human fighters in the Bone Crucible were permitted weapons, and even trained to use them, but combat slaves required a special permit, and registration with the Empire. Regular slaves were forbidden to even touch the energy blade, and she shuddered at the illegal act. Just holding it could bring death. Ero grinned at her hesitation.

  “I won’t tell if you won’t,” he said.

  She glared at him. “If you want to inflict pain, just do it. I’m not going to let you trick me into getting killed.”

  It was the harshest she’d ever spoken to a krey outside of when she’d dumped the roak bag on Laurik, and she braced herself for Ero’s eyes to narrow with anger, for him to reach for the inflicting rune on his holoview. He lowered the hilt, his eyes darkening. Fear flooded Siena’s veins as she realized he was going to kill her. She backed into the door, but he remained in place, and when he spoke, his voice was amused.