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

by Ben Hale

  He reached to a red crystal at the center of the panel and tapped the symbol. The door to the bridge slammed shut, and light flowed up from the panel, wrapping around Brand’s arms, turning into circles about her wrists. More light filled her hands.

  “What just happened?” she asked.

  Startled, she leaned back, pulling on the light in her hands. The ship banked upward, so sharply the gravity drive struggled to balance the shift, and both were pushed into their seats.

  “You should lean forward,” Ero said as they flipped backward three times and spun sideways.

  She leaned forward, and their back flips turned into front flips, the ship spinning tail over nose four times in the span of seconds. Ero caught a glimpse of the approaching space station.

  “We’re going to crash if you don’t level off,” he said.

  “How am I supposed to do that?” she demanded.

  “Just hold the axis at the center. You should be able to feel a balance point.”

  The space station got closer each time they spun, gradually filling their view. Sweat beaded her forehead as she put pressure on the axis points, leaning them backward. The ship’s spin slowed, the space station appearing for longer and longer each time they rotated a full circle. Just as the girl stopped their spin, a disembodied female voice filled the bridge.

  “Impact in twelve seconds.”

  “That’s just the cortex,” Ero said, waving dismissively. “You don’t need to listen to her.”

  “Has your brain turned gray? We’re going to hit the station!”

  She tried to point at the approaching space station, but the vertical axis still attached to her hand followed the motion, and they hurtled downward, the ship spinning sideways fast enough that Ero clenched the front of the panel to keep from being thrown from his seat. Dedliss again filled their view, rapidly growing larger.

  “Do you want us to die?” she shouted.

  “You’re doing great!” he said brightly.

  They rotated toward a different ship, and the vessel loomed large in the window. Ero gripped the sides of his seat as the ship groaned again, and another warning came from the cortex.

  “Impact in sixteen seconds. Suggested heading, 6.8.2.”

  “I don’t even know what that means!” Brand shouted.

  “You’re doing better.” Ero held on as she corrected the other way, the ship now spinning in impossible turns, the seracrete bulkheads groaning, the gravity drive whining.

  “I don’t think the ship agrees with you,” she said.

  “Just be gentle with the axis points.”

  “Impact in seven—impact in ele—impact in four se—impact in eighteen seconds.”

  The planet, a large Beldoria-class cruiser from House Jek’Orus, and the space station all rotated through the view screen, so quickly the cortex couldn’t keep up. Ero began to laugh even as he gripped the panel so tightly his fingers turned white. He fought to keep his seat.

  Brand cursed as she eased the axis points back into a stable center, the holo wrapped around her arms responding to the slightest motion, and ever so slowly, she brought them into a stable flight. They skimmed the atmosphere, drawing heat onto the seracrete plating until she brought them back into orbit.

  “Well done,” he praised.

  “I’m beginning to question your teaching methods.”

  An orange rune began to flicker like an angry pulse, and he groaned. He knew who the beamcast would be from and considered ignoring it. Then he touched the floating rune, and a voice came through the beamcast, clipped and angry.

  “Warning to vessel Bright’Lor 7,” it said. “Correct your flight pattern, or we will be forced to fire.”

  “Thanks for the warning,” he replied.

  Ero’s light tone elicited an angry outburst, but before the fleet officer could shout, Ero tapped the rune again, ending the beamcast. He settled back into his seat and pointed away from the planet.

  “Perhaps we should vacate the system,” he said.

  “Would they really fire on us?” she asked.

  “If you get within ten seconds of crashing into a space station or other vessel, they have the legal right to destroy the threat.”

  “But we did get within ten seconds.”

  He shrugged. “They were probably too shocked to react. Like I said, you can’t anticipate creativity.”

  She eased the axis points, turning them away from Dedliss. As she did, the beamcast crystal began to flicker again, the pattern much more casual, the light blue rather than orange. He reached for it, expecting another message from the space station. Instead, it was a recorded message from Telik.

  “Ero,” it began tersely. “I expected a report on your slave yesterday. Also, the other slaves are still showing no signs of increased strength or stamina. As you requested, I’m keeping them alive, but the experiment appears to be a failure.”

  “You asked for them to be kept alive?” Brand asked.

  He motioned her to silence and continued to listen.

  “Also, I found that slave you wanted to find,” Telik’s voice went on. “He was sold to House Kel’Ray. He was taken to the seracrete mines on Ironden. Don’t expect any more help on this matter.”

  The beamcast ended, and Ero tapped his chin in thought. Brand looked his way but wisely kept her hands rigidly in control, keeping their ship on a teetering course away from Dedliss.

  “What was that about?” she asked.

  “I asked him to find a slave.”

  She shook her head in confusion, and then her eyes shot open. “Kensen? You found him?”

  “It appears I did.” He grinned slyly as a thought crossed his mind. “Are you up for an excursion?”

  He expected her to spin the ship again and grabbed the front of the control panel in case she did. The ship trembled left and right but did not turn again. The look on her face was positively forceful, and when she spoke, her voice was more determined than any Ero had heard from a human, krey, or dakorian.

  “Let’s go get him.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  “What’s going on between you and this slave?” Ero asked Brand.

  They’d disengaged the combat axis, but she was still flying the ship. Ero was pleased with her quick learning of how to fly. She clearly had a talent for flying, and he idly considered the consequences of expanding her training.

  “He’s my friend,” she said.

  “You sure you don’t want to breed with him?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Do you even know what a friend is?”

  “The krey do not have friends, only—”

  “—allies or enemies, I know.” She seemed disappointed, but he could not explain why. “A friend is someone you trust, because they’ve earned your trust.”

  “Like an ally.”

  She grimaced at his answer. “A friend is someone you believe in, not because they can be of help to you, but because you want to help them. Because you like them.”

  “Sounds like a human thing.”

  He said it with a dismissive tone but could not deny that there were two people in his life that fit the description. His brother Skorn and, surprisingly, Brand. He chuckled at the absurd idea of a human and a krey being friends.

  “Have you ever had someone you were truly close to?” she asked. “Like family?”

  “Skorn,” he said with a shrug. “We’ve been close since we were young.”

  “No one else?” she pressed.

  “Why do you ask?”

  “I just wonder if the krey ever care about more than glint and power.”

  “I care about fun,” Ero said.

  “You know what I’m asking,” she said. “Do you ever have families that stay together out of love?”

  “Maybe,” Ero said. “But I don’t think we have the luxury of that much trust,” Ero said, thinking of his father and mother. “You never really know when an ally will turn and kill you.”

  “That actually explains a lot.”
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  He frowned at her tone. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I thought krey didn’t form bonds because they couldn’t,” she said. “But now I think it’s because you live for so long that survival becomes everything. Glint and power ensure survival, while love and friendship are considered a risk. I guess all krey are just afraid of dying.”

  Stung, he swept a hand to her. “What makes you think you understand my race?”

  “Nothing,” she said. “I just wonder if you’ve ever had a moment of real happiness.”

  Ero wanted to make a sharp retort, but the truth to her observation was too accurate. He watched the stars glide by through the forward window, wondering how a young human girl had gained such wisdom.

  He looked back on his life, to all the machinations and intrigue between Houses, the earning and spending of glint. He could recall plenty of enjoyment, like the time he’d stolen Belgin’s ship and gone asteroid skipping, but as hard as he tried, he could not recall any real happiness. It made him wonder if the girl was right.

  He brooded on her observations while they flew through deep space. He was not used to hearing such ideas from a slave. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized Brand was correct.

  “What are we going to do when we get to the planet?” she asked.

  “I suppose I’ll try to buy him,” he said, grateful for the change in topic. “But House Bright’Lor is not exactly flush with glint at the moment.”

  “How much can you afford?”

  “Maybe five or ten thousand glint.”

  Her expression turned dismayed. “That’s not enough. A standard slave is fifty thousand, more for a healthy male.”

  “That does put us in a difficult spot,” he admitted. “But it’s possible I’ll have something else of value for which I can offer trade.”

  “Like what? There’s not much of value on Nova.”

  “True, but sometimes favors can be a type of currency.”

  His thoughts shifted to Olana, current Tertious of Ironden. He didn’t like the idea of reconnecting with the woman, not after what she’d done, but she was likely the only way he could retrieve the slave.

  “Could we steal him?” she asked.

  Ero chuckled at the suggestion. “You really are a bad influence.”

  “Is that a no?”

  He considered the prospect, not because it was a bad one, but because it would be fun. He’d never liked House Kel’Ray. They were known for their cruelty and liked leaving their slaves with scars. They were one of the Houses that had purchased worlds owned by House Bright’Lor in their fall, and they used their influence on other Houses to keep offers from being extended, forcing Bright’Lor to sell at a fraction of the world’s worth.

  “Let’s just meet with them and see what happens,” Ero said.

  “That’s not a plan.”

  “My brother is the one that likes to plan.” Ero leaned forward and inserted the coordinates into the cortex to prep the Gate. Dedliss and Ironden weren’t far from each other.

  “How long until we get there?” she asked.

  “Has anyone told you that you ask a lot of questions?” Ero asked.

  She shrugged and casually activated autopilot. The ship slipped into the flight plan with ease, and she rotated in her chair. She jerked a thumb toward the rear of the ship.

  “We could train while we wait,” she said.

  He rolled his eyes and groaned. “It’s never enough for you, is it?”

  “Stop complaining. You’re the one that wanted to train, remember?”

  Her brazen words should have earned a quick burning, but Ero laughed sourly. She was right, and he reluctantly departed the bridge. Both now carried the hilts of the energy blades regularly, and the girl had even fashioned a pouch to hold the triangular hilt hidden in the small of her back.

  Since they were alone, they elected to use the cargo bay, where their energy blades came together in a clash. Ero was pleased to discover that she had improved significantly. He also found it mildly disturbing how quickly Brand seemed to acquire talents. Was such a capacity to learn racial, or individual?

  “Tell me about Ironden,” she said.

  “Ironden is not a pleasant world, especially since it’s currently owned by House Kel’Ray.”

  “I take it you have a history.”

  He darted in and flicked his blade to strike her shoulder, but she managed to deflect it in time. The blades could be altered so the energy would not pierce skin, but bruises were common, usually on Brand. Occasionally she slipped through and managed to land a blow.

  “They manipulated the market to purchase most of my House assets at a fraction of their value,” he explained. “At the time, we were fourth in ranking and they were fifth, so we were an obstacle to their ambitions. Of course, they’ve since fallen prey to other Houses and were ranked eleventh shortly after, but now they have risen to third.”

  “And Ironden?”

  She whirled to the side and jumped a crate, swinging her blade backward to keep him from following. He sidestepped, using his greater speed to circle another crate.

  “It’s a mining world and supplies a great deal of raw materials for seracrete,” he said. “Its forges span most of the globe, and House Kel’Ray employs several billion slaves in the mines.”

  She came to a stop and lowered her blade. “How are we supposed to find Kensen among so many?”

  “Every House keeps a registry of their slaves. Finding him won’t be a problem. It’s getting them to sell him to us. Hating my House is almost an occupation in and of itself.”

  He stepped on a crate and jumped to another, using them to reach Brand. To his surprise, the lid of the fourth buckled beneath him, and he tumbled to the floor, smacking his chin on one of the slave beds.

  He groaned as he sat up. “What just happened?”

  She opened the crate to reveal its contents were crushed. “What did you do?”

  He snorted and stood. “That crate is the closest to your bed.”

  Incredulous, she pointed to herself. “You’re saying I damaged a crate built to withstand the pressures of space?”

  “You’re right,” he allowed. “That’s giving you too much credit.”

  She laughed, but before she could respond, the ship lurched, slowing as it dropped from hyperlight. They exchanged a look and then extinguished the blades. When Brand stooped to place it next to her bed, Ero shook his head.

  “Keep it,” he said. “We might need them on Ironden.”

  She hesitated. “If I’m caught with an energy blade and no permit, it means execution.”

  “Then don’t get caught.”

  She hid the sheath in the folds of her tunic. “For how long you’ve lived, you’re incredibly reckless.”

  He smirked as he exited the cargo bay. “It’s one of my better qualities.”

  They made their way to the Gate chamber and Ero activated the controls. A quick search brought up the possible destinations on Ironden. He located the one closest to Olana’s private office.

  “Don’t forget to keep your eyes on the floor,” he said as the Gate activated.

  “I haven’t forgotten what I am.”

  The trace of bitterness in her tone made him realize that she would never forget her identity, even if she fought against it. He stepped to the Gate and motioned her to stand behind him.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  She shifted the small hilt of the energy blade so it was deeper in the folds of her tunic and then squared her jaw. “Ready.”

  A trace of excitement crept into his voice. “Then let’s go.”

  The Gate tugged on his body, and he exited into a small, squat structure on top of a mountain. A dome of glass allowed a view of the valleys and hills stretching in every direction.

  Night had fallen, and in the darkness the mines were clearly visible. Seracrete came from a variety of metals and other synthetic compounds. The metals were mined from asteroids and mineral
-rich worlds. Rather than purchasing thousands of gravity spheres to power the smelters, House Kel’Ray drew heat directly from the planet’s core. The method was cheaper but filled the atmosphere with a dark, omnipresent haze. Fire and smoke belched from the metal works, huge structures of seracrete and rusted iron that pulled minerals from the earth and then melted them into large plates. A cargo ship lifted from the surface, its engines groaning as it passed through the acidic rain to reach orbit.

  “What have they done to the planet?” Brand asked.

  Her dismay drew the attention of the Gate operator, whose head snapped up. His yellow eyes focused on Brand, brimming with hatred and anger. He stepped around the control panel and stomped toward Ero.

  “Control your slave, or she will be punished . . .” He noticed the brand on her throat, and his eyes widened. “You brought a ferox?”

  Ero rolled his eyes. “She’s harmless.” He smiled as he imagined the operator’s reaction to the girl drawing her energy blade. “We come on business. Can we speak to Tertious Olana?”

  The krey focused on him, his anger at Brand shifting to a sneer. “Ero Bright’Lor? I thought your House was destroyed ages ago.”

  “We live to disappoint.” Ero pointed to the sprawling mine attached to the Gate chamber. “Olana?”

  His hands flew across the Gate cortex, and a moment later a crystal blinked in response. “I’ll have the two of you brought to her.”

  Ero steeled himself for the coming encounter. Her tongue was as sharp as her mind, and he wished he had more time to prepare. But as much as he hated the House, Olana was still captivating, and he looked forward to another encounter.

  “Excellent,” Ero said.

  The operator motioned to the single dakorian at the entrance to the Gate chamber, and he led the way out the main doors in the dome. The dakorian, a muscled, tattooed member of clan Bermouth, a clan renowned for their brutal natures and stark white horns, looked back at Ero.

  “Never thought I’d see you again,” they said.

  “You know me?” Ero replied.

  “I used to be one of Tertious Olana’s guards, back when the two of you were involved.”

  “You were lovers?” Brand hissed.