The Complete Void Wraith Saga

by Chris Fox

  The second adept darted in, but another shot from Nuchik forced her back. She began breathing rapidly, eyes blazing as she glared at Hannan’s mech. Then she vaulted into the sky, arcing away from the battle. She looked back, and Nolan recognized her. It was T’kon’s wife.

  “Hannan, any chance you can stop her?” Nolan asked, pivoting to search for other opponents.

  “Negative, sir. She’s moving at eighty-five KPH.” A blue streak shot from Hannan’s cannon, but the adept leapt nimbly over the shot. “She’s slippery. Should I pursue, sir?”

  “Negative. Fall back to Annie’s position. We’ve beaten them, but there are plenty more elites in the spire. We’re not in any shape to take them on right now.” Nolan was acutely aware of how much material they’d just used. They might have a few missiles left between them, but he doubted it. That would make the next fight far more difficult.

  “Sir,” Annie drawled over the comm, “now may not be the time, but can you explain that shit-stunt T’kon pulled?”

  “Yeah, I owe you all an explanation. T’kon came up with the plan, and I backed it. The Azi clan don’t trust us, and T’kon didn’t think we’d be able to deliver the payload.”

  “He stayed behind on purpose, didn’t he? Furry bastard wanted to be caught,” Annie said. “So they can torture it out of him. You know? That’s damned clever.”

  “Something like that,” Nolan admitted. “T’kon gives up the ‘secret’ location of our shipyards, and they send that data to their empress. Then we ride in and rescue T’kon. Problem is, I wasn’t counting on Sissus stealing the ship.”

  19

  Interrogation

  T’kon awakened to fragments of pain exploding through his jaw. Blood flowed from his mashed face, dripping down his chest. His eyes refused to focus, and he labored under a fog. It took several moments to gather his thoughts, sluggish and elusive.

  “You’ve given me wert root, haven’t you?” he slurred. It dulled the mind without dampening the nerves, so he could still feel every bit of pain inflicted.

  “Ah, you’re awake.” Ro’kan said. He seized T’kon by the head, jerking it back so T’kon was forced to peer up at the man who’d once served him so faithfully. “You are no doubt wondering why you’re still alive, T’kon. Don’t worry, we’ll attend to that soon enough. First, we are giving you one more chance to aid your clan. One more chance to die with a shred of honor intact. Isn’t that what you want?”

  “And what is this opportunity?” T’kon managed. He spoke slowly, drawing out the words one at a time through his shattered jaw.

  “The core,” Oako said, moving into the edge of T’kon’s vision. The black robes didn’t belong on his old friend, and part of T’kon still saw the laughing berserker he’d taken a dozen worlds with. Oako leaned closer, and T’kon could see dozens of tiny purple runes tattooed around his eyes. “It was manufactured in this Coalition, upon a specific world. Nolan said this world was the cradle of their technology. Their shipyards. Where is it?”

  T’kon grinned through his ruined mouth, his fur going red-brown. “You are more ambitious than I thought, Ro’kan. First, you grant power to the seekers. Now, you will use them to bring this information to the empress, won’t you? You plan to curry favor, to be included in her fleet when she invades this Coalition.”

  Ro’kan’s eyes blazed, and he shoved Oako out of the way. Ro’kan loomed over T’kon, spittle flying as he roared his words: “You are nothing. Less than nothing. I will devour your heart, and leave your corpse as carrion. Og’ok, disgraced and forgotten.”

  T’kon’s grin vanished. His fur drifted to a washed-out yellow. A genuine ripple of fear passed through him. He didn’t hold with the religious trappings around mummification, but there would be very real consequences if his body were left to rot. Jehanna could protect their lives, but his children would never escape the shame of it.

  “I have offended you. I apologize, Clan Leader.” T’kon flared his lower nostrils, sucking in a painful breath as he closed his eyes. “I do not know the location of this world.”

  “He lies.” Oako’s words came on the heels of T’kon’s.

  “The seekers know such things, T’kon. They can peer into men’s souls, did you know that?” Ro’kan released T’kon’s head, stepping away. T’kon opened his eyes, staring at his former friend. “If Oako says that you lie, then you lie. The question is why? Why keep this knowledge from us? Why deny your clan a chance to regain the greatness you stole from us?”

  The blow stung far worse than the one to his jaw had. T’kon knew Ro’kan was right; his own actions had led the Azi to this point. In a way, he was responsible for what had befallen Oako.

  “I’ve given you a core, Ro’kan. You can restore our planetstrider, or perhaps capture a wild one. You don’t need this human world to regain what the Azi have lost.” T’kon suppressed a cough, triggering a fresh wave of pain.

  “The technology you’ve brought is forbidden,” Oako snapped. He backhanded T’kon, sending a fresh wave of pain through his jaw. “Even you should have known better. It is our obligation to return this core to Imperalis, where my order will humbly accept possession of it.”

  “Ro’kan, you can’t honestly tell me that you are placing your faith in the seekers. Oako is mad. He is no longer the warrior we knew. He counsels you to throw away the power I have dropped into your lap. You can have a full planetstrider at your disposal. Surely that eclipses anything you think this…this mouthpiece can offer.” T’kon spat a gob of blood into Oako’s face.

  Oako responded predictably, slamming his fist into T’kon’s already fractured jaw. T’kon blacked out for a moment, and when he blinked himself back to the present, there was a dark corona around the edges of his vision. His ears rang, and though he felt as if he were falling, his body somehow remained still.

  “I tire of his blasphemy. I will seek counsel with my brethren. When I return, it will be with a pain bringer. If T’kon hasn’t revealed the secret before then, I will burn it out of him.” Oako spoke the words emotionlessly, then whirled and strode from the chamber.

  “Oako clearly does not remember your legendary stubbornness as well as I. You and I both know you will die before breaking to pain.” Ro’kan folded his arms, staring down at T’kon. Ro’kan’s expression was unreadable, but his fur softened to a melancholy blue. “I do not hate you, T’kon. But neither do I pity you. You gambled for greatness, and lost. I was left to rebuild, beset by the twin titans. The Yog and the Vkash both eye our remaining worlds hungrily, yet we lack the strength to defend them. So I implore you one more time: Give me the name of these human shipyards.”

  T’kon turned away from Ro’kan. It was more difficult than he’d feared, and he battled a wave of guilt. This was proving more difficult than he’d expected.

  “You disappoint me. Very well. Just remember that you left me no other choice.” Ro’kan raised his voice. “Jehanna, if you please.”

  T’kon’s breathing quickened. He’d planned to divulge the name before they involved her, but it was too late now. He closed his eyes, resisting the urge to look at her as her robes swished closer. The sound was for his benefit, as he knew she could be utterly silent when she wished.

  “Hello, T’kon,” Jehanna said, her words a balm draining the fire from his wounds. “Look at me, ri’koh.”

  T’kon’s eyes opened of their own accord. Jehanna stood there, her fur a lustrous, pearled white. “Hello, Jehanna, wife of Ro’kan. I see that you’ve earned your fourth band.” T’kon nodded at the newest stripe on her wrist.

  “I’ve grown stronger in your absence.” Jehanna smiled warmly, her fur going to soft red-pink. “Ri’koh, you will always have a piece of my heart—you know that. Please, give me the location of this world. Allow our clan to reclaim greatness. If you do, Ro’kan will let me speak the rites. He will see you buried with honor. Allow our children to remember their father’s greatness. Please, T’kon.”

  She eyed him searchingly, and T’ko
n could not escape that gaze. His fur was a riot of conflicting colors, his emotions a maelstrom.

  “Atreas.” T’kon heaved a heavy sigh, closing his eyes again. “The name of the world is Atreas. I can provide you star charts.”

  “I believe you.” Ro’kan’s hand rested gently on his shoulder. “I will have a sedative brought. Show me this world, and then you may rest. Tomorrow, we will allow you to seek the void. I myself will stand as second.”

  T’kon bit down on his rear molar. The payload had been delivered. Now all he could do was wait for Nolan to rescue him.

  20

  Master

  Waiting for the clan leader to seek him out was the single greatest test Oako had undergone since becoming a seeker. He longed to go to Ro’kan, to whisper the right things into his increasingly receptive ear.

  Yet now was not the time for bold action. Oako moved to the chamber’s edge, staring out into the roiling storm obscuring the horizon. If he approached now, Ro’kan would be suspicious. He was growing accustomed to the seekers, and the idea of seeking the Nameless Ones. Yet his old faith still lingered, and until its embers faded, Oako must tread carefully.

  “Oako.” Ro’kan’s strong voice came from the chamber’s doorway. “I am troubled. Share a horn with me, and help untangle this problem.”

  “Of course, old friend.” Oako moved to his cabinet, withdrawing his two longest horns. He filled them from the crystal flask, using last year’s fermentation. He handed a horn to Ro’kan, taking a sip from his own. “Share the burden of this trouble. I am happy to bear the weight, as always.”

  Ro’kan drank deeply of the horn, belching loudly. “I have a dilemma. The news of this Coalition world is of great value. The empress could profit greatly from it, and I want to share it with her. Yet our lingering shame prevents me from approaching her directly.”

  “Could we use one of the other clans as an intermediary?” Oako asked, though he already knew the answer.

  “I doubt they’d even receive our emissary. They’ll stand back and wait for us to fall, never lifting a finger to help. Even if they did receive us, they’d take the credit for delivering this news.” Ro’kan snarled. “It is maddening. Perhaps what is needed here is boldness. I could approach the empress directly. She would forgive the breach, given the power we bring.”

  “Perhaps, Clan Leader. I have heard that she is temperamental, and takes offense easily,” Oako cautioned. He had heard that she was temperamental, though he seriously doubted that would prevent her from leaping on the technology Ro’kan offered.

  “Hmm, then what do you suggest? You can see my dilemma.” Ro’kan upended his horn, so Oako refilled it.

  “There may be a way,” Oako mused. He refilled his own horn, clinking it against Ro’kan’s. “If you wish, I can approach Utfa. He is a seeker who attends the empress, and speaks for my order on Imperalis.”

  Ro’kan swirled his horn, considering. Oako resisted the urge to add to his argument, instead refilling Ro’kan’s drink.

  “Very well. Speak to this Utfa. Ask him to broach the subject with the empress, and see if he can arrange an audience. So long as we keep the world’s name a secret, Utfa will not be able to steal the news, so I see little risk.” Ro’kan’s fur became a warm orange. “Thank you, Oako. You have eased my mind. I will depart immediately so that you may have privacy to speak to Utfa.”

  “Thank you, friend.” Oako clapped Ro’kan on the shoulder. He smiled, waiting for Ro’kan to depart from the chamber before approaching the ancient communicator.

  The crystal screen had been cracked centuries past, but it still functioned well enough. Oako opened his arcanotome, sketching several symbols on the appropriate page. The communicator’s screen flickered reluctantly to life, connecting to a similar console thousands of light years away.

  “Have you acquired the core?” Utfa’s face filled the screen. His eyes had taken on a milky sheen, but shone with a feverish intensity.

  “I have, Emissary. I have and more.” Oako bowed low, holding it for several seconds. Utfa had been the one who had shown him the path, and given him his arcanotome. He owed Utfa everything. Oako finally straightened. “T’kon has returned, and he brings allies from the Coalition. One of those allies let slip that they have a massive shipyard, the cradle of their technology. We have acquired the location of this world. It is called Atreas, and I’m sending the relevant star charts.”

  “You were wise to bring this to me. I will present it to the empress, so that our order might claim credit.” Utfa’s fur became the soft green of satisfaction. “What of Ro’kan, and the Azi? How fare your plans?”

  “Fully a third of the warriors are mine. Not all have donned the robes, but more join daily. Ro’kan has a weak hold, and T’kon’s return has further weakened his position.”

  “Wonderful. I have another task for you. Tell Ro’kan that the empress has summoned him, and ensure that he brings those warriors who will not don the robes. Tell them there will be glorious battle, that he will be in the vanguard to raid the world he has discovered.”

  “Emissary, is that not premature? What if the empress does not launch an invasion?” Oako didn’t like contradicting Utfa, but the pulses of data from his tome were clear.

  “I will handle the empress. She will invade, and the Azi will be in the vanguard. Tell him this, and bring the core to Imperalis immediately.”

  “Of course.” Oako held his bow, even after the connection had been severed.

  21

  Outmaneuvered

  Empress Zakanna observed the training islands below her, with dozens of adepts divided into sparring pairs. Those with the greatest skill were on the highest islands, while initiates filled the lower. There were only seventy initiates—one-third the amount she had boasted at the beginning of her reign, just four years ago.

  There were so many gaps, and the initiates were too green to fill them. Yet, they worked hard to cure that. In time, they would rise to the challenge.

  Time. That was the thing she most needed, and the thing she suspected she had the least of. Her enemies were gathering, readying their strike. She didn’t know where the blow would fall, or even who might hold the blade. But the blow would come, and it would be Utfa’s hand that guided it.

  “Empress, you sent for me?” a low voice called from behind.

  She turned slowly, impressed that the adept had approached without her detecting his heartbeat. He was older than her by several years, and walked with a slight limp. He wore an easy smile, and his fur shifted from tan to grey and back again.

  “I did. You showed admirable bravery in your battle with Kokar, despite your lack of training.” She clasped her hands behind her back. “To honor you, I would offer a heart gift. What would you have, Meb?”

  She loved this part of her duties. It was by far the most enjoyable part of being empress. She gave heart gifts too often, if Utfa were any judge. She didn’t care.

  “Empress?” Meb’s fur tinged blue, just for a moment. The lack of control would never have occurred in a full initiate, much less a full monk. Meb licked his lips. “Empress, if this does not show too much temerity, my heart longs to be a part of your house. Teach me, and I will devote my life to mastery.”

  “Granted.” Zakanna smiled. “I formally adopt you into the clan of Yog. Descend to the lowest level and find Ashira. Tell her to find you a place to sleep, and to begin your training.”

  “Thank you, Empress,” Meb’s voice cracked under the weight of his emotions. In time, he’d learn to control that. He bowed deeply, holding it for many seconds. He straightened, and stepped back atop his disk. It carried him away from her island, descending from sight.

  Another disk zoomed into view, blocking the light of the sun that filtered through the spire’s crystalline walls. She frowned, immediately regretting the lapse. Zakanna schooled her features into a slightly condescending smile, donning the mask with long-practiced ease.

  The disk descended, and she was unsu
rprised to see Utfa step off. Of all her attendants, only he would dare risk elevating himself so high above her, or approaching without permission. Each day his temerity grew, but unfortunately his power grew with it. How long before it eclipsed her own? Had it already?

  “Ah. Welcome, seeker,” Zakanna said cheerfully. “I was just observing the training. It calms me, you see.”

  She knew that he thought her a simple child, focused on nothing but martial training and tea ceremonies. Zakanna did everything in her power to reinforce that view.

  “I have brought news, Empress. Vital news.” He gave only the most perfunctory of bows, little more than a nod, really. Nor did he ask her leave before plunging ahead with whatever he wanted to tell her. “My seekers are ever vigilant, and they seek more than the gaze of the Nameless Ones. We find many secrets, and this day we have uncovered one that will return your house to greatness.”

  “Tell me,” she demanded, adding a bit of petulance. Not too much, just a hint. Utfa was canny enough to detect an overt subterfuge.

  “We have discovered the location of the Coalition’s war fleet. It is here that their ships are born, their weapons made. The world is ripe for the plucking, naked before your wrath. If you marshall your fleets, and include Takkar’s, they will not be able to stop you.”

  “Interesting. I’d very much like to seize their technology. The idea that they can manufacture cores is intriguing, don’t you think?”

  Utfa’s eyes narrowed. “It is heresy, and must be stamped out, Empress.”

  “I’m sure you’re right. I’d like to invade, but Takkar’s fleet is in shambles. He will be useless. I must have his ships repaired before we can begin. That process will take weeks.”

  “I have taken the liberty of speeding the repairs, Empress. They will be complete in two standard days,” Utfa explained.