Blackwing: Rise of a New Empire (The Blackwing Trilogy Book 1)

by L. S. Mercer

  Damon rolled his eyes, he knew what Drago was about to ask for. The problem was, he didn’t know what would be worse, selling out the Alliance, or letting them take the Eyres.

  “You want me to rat out Aela.” Muttered Damon.

  Drago snapped his fingers together and pointed at Damon with a stupid grin on his face.

  “That’s exactly what I want!” He shouted.

  “Fine.” Said Damon. “Give them back and I’ll help.”

  Damon knew that Drago wasn’t going to do that, but it was worth a shot. The idea of Copper and Alloy being thrown into a stupid Kharan work camp was already killing him. Another thought popped into his head. He could kill Drago now and then save the Eyres. His fingers tickled the side of his pistol as he entertained the idea, but Drago’s eyes immediately shot to his side. There would be no way to get the drop on the galaxies fastest shooter, so Damon just smiled at him.

  “You know that’s not how this is going to work.” Said Drago, keeping his cool.

  “Promise that you won’t do anything to them.” Demanded Damon.

  Drago remained silent.

  “Promise me, cause if you hurt them, you’re a dead man.”

  The threat caused Drago’s eyes to light up, he seemed amused by Damon’s courage. He’d always like him more than the others for a reason.

  “They’ll stay in the royal quarters until you return, you have my word.” Said Drago with a smile.

  One thing about Drago is when he gave his word on something, you could trust it, no matter how sick and twisted he was as a person. This gave Damon a little peace of mind, so he reached out to shake Drago’s hand.

  “You have a deal then.” He said.

  Drago smiled at him one more time before accepting the handshake.

  “Give me the Alliance battle plans, and you and the little things will be back together before you know it.” He said, sounding like the evil old Drago that Damon knew well.

  “You’ve got it, boss.” Replied Damon.

  With that, Drago turned and left. The moment that Damon heard the door to the ship close, the landing locks opened, allowing the ship to leave.

  “Should’ve known.” Muttered Damon, kicking the side of the box once more.

  With no crew, piloting the duster would be almost an impossible task. Damon slumped into the captain seat and put the ship into launch mode. He let out a sigh as the ship lifted from the ground and moved towards the hangar doors.

  * * *

  As the duster floated alone through space, Damon reclined in the captain’s seat, not sure of what to do. He knew to sell out the Alliance would get them all killed, but at the same time not doing so would get the Eyres killed. Every possible scenario running through his mind just resulted in his death either way.

  The communicator lit up on the desk, but Damon tried to ignore it. He needed more time to think things through, maybe find out a way that everyone can stay alive without much risk. As the beeping continued, it almost started to seem like it was in his head, just beeping endlessly. The sound made him want to blow his brains out.

  Finally, he’d had enough and clicked the accept button.

  “Damon?” Asked Aela.

  “Yep.” He mumbled, picking up the stress ball that he had laying on the desk.

  “How is your mission going?” She asked.

  “Pretty great.” He replied.

  He wasn’t giving her the usual level of sarcasm that she was used to, and unfortunately for him, she picked up on it.

  “What happened?” She asked, now sounding concerned.

  “Nothing, I’m almost to base, let’s just talk there.” He said.

  Damon cut the transmission without allowing her to protest and began squeezing the ball.

  “It isn’t fair.” He kept repeating in his mind. Over and over again.

  The truth was, he’d been risking that situation ever since he decided to recruit the two into his crew. The guilt of putting them in danger had always been on the back burner in his mind, but he could never bring himself to let them go.

  Frustrated, he threw the ball against the window and covered his face with his hands. No matter what he tried to do, it always happened to get someone hurt. It almost seemed like a genetic disorder at this point, with the countless times he’d screwed up in his life.

  * * *

  The outpost finally came into view, Damon slowed the ship to prepare his landing. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Aela was the best suited to figure out how to fix this. If it weren’t the case, he’d probably just leave and become a hermit in the deserts of Ghan or something.

  The ship lowered into the atmosphere at the slowest pace imaginable. He figured that the longer it took to land, the more time he had to come up with a reason for why she needed to help him.

  As the ship entered one of the outpost’s hangars, he realized how little this situation would really matter to the princess. She’d never put her people in harm’s way just to save a couple of scavengers from the Tech Sea. His palms began to sweat. It was definitely a mistake to come back to the outpost, how could he have even thought that she’d help him in the first place?

  “Clear to exit.” Said an officer over the communicator.

  “Yay.” Mumbled Damon.

  As he left the ship, it seemed like everyone in the hangar was watching him for some reason, like they already knew what he was doing. Now his entire body was dripping with sweat. Soon he’d be in front of Aela, trying to convince her to bail him out and failing miserably. His minded shifted from Aela to Striker, who he should have been worrying more about from the start.

  What would he think? He’d probably discharge Damon right then and there, telling him to get the hell out of his ship with a rough smack upside the head to finish it off.

  “Are you alright sir?” Asked the hangar officer.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” Replied Damon, scratching his arm.

  “Yes, sir.” Said the officer. “The Princess was wanting to speak to you.”

  Damon nodded and continued walking towards the palace.

  * * *

  As he walked inside, Aela and Striker were both in their usual positions, waiting for him to arrive. He quickly made his way over, eager to get it all out of the way.

  “Can we have the room?” Asked Damon.

  Striker nodded at a couple of recruits that were using the terminals.

  “Sorry.” Said Damon, as they quickly walked passed him.

  The recruits continued out without a word, making Damon very uncomfortable.

  “So?” Asked Aela.

  Striker put up a hand to keep Damon from speaking.

  “Before you say anything.” He said. “I want you to know that your ship was, let’s say, bugged.”

  “What?” Exclaimed Damon.

  “We know about your little meeting with Val’Drago.” Said Aela.

  She had a concerned look on her face, which Damon figured that meant they’d still trust him, maybe.

  “Well.” Said Damon.

  He couldn’t think of what to say at the time.

  “Well, we have been devising a plan.” Said Striker. “But we don’t know if it will work, to be truly honest with you.”

  Damon felt a ray of hope shine down on him, quickly becoming excited to hear what they had in mind.

  “I’m all ears.” He said.

  “We want you to deliver false troop orders to Val’Drago.” Said Aela.

  “Yes, exactly.” Chimed Striker. “We also want you to plant a bug in their radar systems.”

  Damon’s heart sank.

  “If they catch me, Copper and Alloy are dead!” He protested.

  Aela gave him a look of regret.

  “We know that.” She said, her voice cracking slightly.

  “It’s the best way for us all to benefit from this.” Said Striker.

  Damon shot Striker a soft glare.

  “I only care about the Eyres.” He said. “If they die I’ll-”
<
br />   “You’ll what?” Interjected Striker, returning his glare with a much harder one.

  “Damon.” Said Aela, her voice much softer than usual. “I care about them too. This will work.”

  “Just take the plans and go over them.” Ordered Striker. “We’ll make our decision in the morning.”

  Damon nodded slowly as he stared at Aela.

  “I’m counting on you.” He said.

  Aela smiled at him and placed her hand on his shoulder.

  “And I won’t let you down, Damon.” She replied.

  Damon grabbed the battle plans from Striker’s hands and turned to leave. He needed to be alone, plus there was no better place to go over the plans than in the comfort of his own ship.

  Chapter 11

  Adrian took a step into the Eradicator. The ship was quite possibly the nicest one he’d ever been in. He took a moment to admire the black steel plating, and the red, tiled floor, not to mention the size of the ship, which was humongous. He couldn’t help but make a mental remark about how much the ship must’ve cost Helen to get, probably a fortune and a half.

  “You like it?” Asked Helen.

  Adrian snapped back to attention and turned his head to look at her.

  “I love it.” He replied. “It will suit us perfectly.”

  Helen smiled and gestured for everyone to follow her.

  They all walked through what seemed like an endless amount of tunnels until they came to a large lounge. Very decorated much like the rest of the ship, but outfitted with everything that a person could need such as drink dispensers, food storage, and endless ways to provide comfort.

  “This is where most of you will stay.” She said. “It can easily hold however many of you there are.”

  “Hundreds.” Commented Adrian.

  Helen nodded at him with a flirtatious grin.

  “And where will we be?” He asked.

  Helen raised an eyebrow and smirked like she was having an interesting thought.

  “Follow me.” She replied.

  Adrian nodded and followed her lead. They walked past a long row of corridors labeled for the crew’s quarters until they finally reached the bridge of the ship, where all things from navigation to orders for the crew were handled. Although he shouldn’t have been, Adrian was surprised to see the bridge bustling with activity. He hadn’t originally expected Helen to have a crew but at the same time how could she not with a ship like the Eradicator.

  One of Helen’s crewmates came running up to her as she walked along the bridge. He remained silent as he came to a halt, awaiting her orders.

  “Prepare for launch.” She demanded, a tone of aggression suddenly spilling out.

  “Where to sir?” Asked the man.

  Helen turned to Adrian, waiting for him to fill them both in.

  “Ostillion.” He said, his voice low and unsure.

  The man gave Helen a strange, uncomfortable look before bowing and running back down to give orders.

  “Ostillion?” She asked.

  Adrian began walking to the main control at the front of the ship.

  “Yes, I have some business to attend to there.” He whispered. “And an empire to form.”

  “Ostillion is a wasteland.” She replied, still looking at him with confusion.

  Adrian stopped in his tracks, surprised by what she’d said.

  “Are there no survivors left on the planet?” He asked.

  “Well, there are, but-”

  “Then we must have them.” He interrupted.

  Helen gave him a nod, seeing that he was determined to go regardless.

  The ship made a sinister hissing sound as it rose from the ground, causing a sense of excitement to stir within Adrian as they continued to rise higher and higher.

  “We will return.” He growled. “I will burn the Kharan Dynasty to the ground.”

  “And we will help you.” Said Helen, smiling at him once again.

  * * *

  Helen had shown Adrian to his quarters and left him to get comfortable. He walked around the room, pleased with his surroundings. It had a bed, which he wouldn’t need, and a very large space in the center that was perfect for him to practice his meditation.

  As he lowered himself onto his knees, he felt comfortable for the first time since his resurrection. He remained there for a moment, not trying to meditate but just sitting there, basking in his comfort.

  “Yes.” Whispered the voice from his visions.

  Adrian wasn’t startled this time by the suddenness of the intrusion.

  “You are on the right path.” Said the voice.

  “Who are you?” Asked Adrian.

  “Soon.” He replied.

  Adrian felt a tiny rush of irritation as it avoided his question.

  “Ostillion will be your stage, war will be your play.” Said the voice.

  The voice exploded with a sinister laughter.

  “I want to crush them all.” Muttered Adrian.

  His metal hand screeched as he clenched it.

  “And you will my child, soon.” Whispered the voice, as if to comfort him.

  Adrian remained silent, feeling delighted by his creator’s promises.

  “Inside the sword, you will find power.” Hissed the voice.

  A vision of a mountain that somewhat resembled the hilt of a sword briefly entered his mind and vanished.

  “Soon.” Repeated the voice.

  A faint tingle rushed through Adrian’s mind as he felt the spirit of the being leave him, and once again the room became silent. He closed his mind and tried to force more visions, he wanted so much more. He desperately continued to meditate, almost begging within him mind to allow more information or visions, or something. But nothing happened.

  In a fit of pure rage, Adrian roared at the top of his lungs, creating a loud, terrifying rumble throughout the ship. He threw his fists into the floor, denting it and causing a wave of energy to shoot throughout the room. Every piece of furniture within the room flew against the walls and the floor became charred from the heat.

  His breathing had become heavy, almost turning into a rasp. As he calmed down, he looked around the room, realizing how destructive he could be. For the first time, it occurred to him that he was nothing like the Adrian Blackwing that was back on Voore, stuck in a prison cell. Adrian Blackwing was dead, and he was a completely different person. This new person wasn’t Adrian, but Draxis. He was death.

  After receiving a report of loud, violent activity coming from Adrian’s quarters, Helen entered the room to find bits and pieces of the furniture scattered around the room. Analyzing the situation, she was overcome with a mix of fear and admiration for Adrian’s power, kneeling down to slide her finger through the char marks on the floor.

  Helen turned to look at Adrian, who was sitting in the center of the room as if stuck in a trance, just staring at the wall.

  “What happened?” She asked.

  Adrian let out a low, anger riddled sigh.

  “I’m sorry for destroying your room.” He whispered.

  His quiet voice was making Helen uncomfortable, so she moved toward him as slowly and silently as possible. Although very trusting of Adrian, she didn’t know what kind of power he possessed, and what it might do to obscure his judgment.

  “I won’t hurt you Helen.” He said, sounding amused.

  “I know.” She replied.

  She relaxed herself a tiny bit and continued over to him.

  “So what happened?” She asked again.

  “Frustration.” He whispered. “Lack of humanity.”

  Helen moved to sit down in front of Adrian.

  “You have the right to be frustrated.” She Said.

  Her soft voice was comforting to Adrian, though he didn’t expect her to have such softness within her.

  “I am consumed by my rage.” He replied. “Nothing would please me more than annihilating the Voore and the Kharan.”

  “We might be able to help each other with th
at one.” She said, giving him a bright smile.

  Adrian stared at Helen for the longest time. He wasn’t sure if she was serious or just trying to keep him from flying off the handle again. After their long awkward silence, he finally decided to trust her on it.

  “If we do not find what we’re looking for on Ostillion, where will we go?” He asked.

  Helen smiled with a tint of sadness as if considering his visons failure.

  “We can go to Ghan, my home planet.” She whispered, stroking his metal hand in a failed attempt to comfort.

  Adrian, though he could not feel it, pulled his hand away with moderate speed. With nothing left to inquire about, he returned to his feet and walked over to the window to look toward the stars.

  “Adrian.” Said Helen.

  He put his hand up to silence her.

  “I no longer wish to hear that name.” He whispered. “I am Draxis now. Adrian is dead.”

  Helen didn’t respond, instead, letting the name sink it.

  “On Ostillion, I will learn the ways of my power, to control it with better precision.” He said, more to himself but loud enough for her to hear him clearly.

  As Helen was about to speak, an officer from the bridge came stumbling into the room, dripping with sweat and a look of confusion dominating his face.

  “What is it?” She asked.

  “I was in the communications room, fixing the air coolant.” He panted.

  Draxis turned to look at the officer, who immediately kneel down before him. It took everything he had not to burst into laughter at the visible fear within the officer’s eyes.

  “Spit it out.” Demanded Draxis.

  The officer nodded and clasped his hand over his stomach.

  “A strange transmission came through my radio, and you should both listen to it.” He finally said.

  Helen raised her eyebrow and glanced at Draxis, who was now also looking at her.

  “Send it to the bridge, where we can analyze the sound.” She ordered.

  The officer nodded and took off toward the bridge with no further words.

  “This ought to be interesting.” Muttered Draxis.

  The two exited the room and went straight for the bridge, both intrigued and a little worried to hear the transmission. They engaged in a bit of idle chatter as they walked, but neither were very focused on the subject.