The Fifth Moon's Assassin (The Fifth Moon's Tales Book 5)

by Monica La Porta

  His good friend Gabriel Martelli had left Celestia when Dragon still planned to marry his betrotheds. Interplanetary traveling took months and didn’t account for changes of heart.

  “I’ll meet him at the spaceport. Do we have any news about Valentine?” he asked.

  Lupine’s High Lord, Valentine Lobo, was on his way to Solaria as well.

  “Master Lobo’s Sea Wolf is just behind Celestial Star,” Lars answered.

  “Good.” Dragon looked forward to meeting the werewolf and the vampire again, even if the circumstances weren’t great. “Anything else?”

  Lars hesitated a moment too long before answering, “Nothing important.”

  “Is there something else?” Dragon repeated, his tone firm.

  “Nothing important enough to change your plans.”

  Dragon knew his friend. “Out with it.”

  “It’s Lauren,” Lars started.

  “What’s she up to now?”

  “She wants to greet the guests.” Lars shrugged. “I told her she had to ask you, but—”

  “It’s her prerogative,” Dragon finished for him.

  After all, they were still officially betrothed. The contract was still in place, and Dragon could afford to be magnanimous and let Lauren keep face. It meant a lot to her and so little to him, after all. As soon as her family arrived, Dragon’s lawyers would present her parents with a generous offer, and they would finally part like civilized people. He could have sent the princesses away already—he was the High Lord after all—but deep inside, he felt guilty and decided to find a more amenable solution.

  “And what about Gilda? Is she of the same opinion?” he asked.

  In the last few days, Gilda had revealed a side of her character that hinted at a more assertive nature than he had given her credit for. Any other time, he would have applauded the woman for standing up to him or anyone else in her path. Now, the load of worries burdened his thoughts with so many unknowns that he would have appreciated some stability.

  “Gilda went for a walk.” Lars canted his head to the side. “But I don’t think she cares one way or another.”

  Again, Dragon heard the unsaid words, but neither he nor Lars would comment further on the subject.

  “Very well, collect Lauren and meet me at the spaceport. If Gilda is found before you leave, bring her as well.” Dragon wouldn’t deny the princesses the respect due to them. His heart would never belong to either Lauren or Gilda, but it wasn’t their fault, and they didn’t have to suffer public shame for his decision.

  “They’ll follow you,” Lars said, pointing his chin over his shoulder to the hovering draglets.

  Dragon nodded. There was no point in arguing. With the assassin still at large, Dragon’s life was in danger. Misplaced pride and heroics weren’t going to keep him alive.

  “Very well. I’m out.” Lars brought two fingers to his temple and pulled at Corinna’s reins. They were a dot in the sky a moment later.

  Dragon mounted Carellian and steered him in the opposite direction from the manor. The five guards followed him at a safe distance.

  Instead of flying directly to the spaceport, Dragon chose to meander through the Rocky Domes, following the path of the Green River. He could have gone back to his quarters for a shower and something to eat. After all, Gabriel would land later in the evening, but Dragon still needed the peace and quiet he would only find amid the rugged nature of his beloved region.

  Breathing in the cool air coming from the north, he wondered what Jade was doing. His gaze followed a pair of singing marteen birds flying above the Cracked Dome. The iridescent purple and green feathers on their double wings rippled in colorful waves until they disappeared inside a low cloud. He wished he could share the beautiful sight with Jade. He had sent a message for her, but she might never receive it. Communication mirrors didn’t work on space vessels because of the cosmic rays. Depending on her final destination, astral bodies and solar storms could scramble his words and make them unreadable. A futile attempt at best, but Dragon would try anything for Jade.

  Carellian’s low, mournful whines suited Dragon’s mood, and he let his draglet lead in a wild race among the domed peaks. They both needed an outlet to their unspent energies. Though his personal guard trained extensively, they could barely keep up with him.

  For hours, they rode the thermals as Carellian engaged the rest of the squad in a fast-paced game of hide and seek, using the thick blanket of purple clouds and the rocky geography of the region to his advantage. The steed liked to show off his agility and speed, and he would have gone to more extreme extents had Contessa been present. Only recently, Valerian’s draglet had finally succumbed to Carellian’s relentless courtship, and as a lovesick fool, the draglet attempted the most dangerous aerial acrobatics to impress his mate.

  Just as they left the Green River, coming out from the canyon, the object of Carellian’s desire appeared in the sky, flying from the spaceport’s direction. Dragon’s stallion rose high above the clouds, only to spiral down in a choreographed freefall that left his rider breathless and dizzy. When Carellian finally stopped his descent with a practiced flip of his diaphanous wings, Contessa lowered her long neck ever so slowly in acceptance of his show. Dragon couldn’t help but laugh. His draglet knew how to make an entrance.

  “What are you doing here?” Dragon eyed Valerian with suspicion.

  His lieutenant’s wardrobe fell askew on his large frame, buttons misaligned and wrinkled jacket. His expression darkened as his chest rose and fell, and he took a moment before answering. Contessa too breathed long gulps of air. They left the palace hastily and had been flying hard.

  “What’s wrong?” Dragon asked.

  “It’s Celestial Star,” Valerian answered as he handed Dragon a pair of magnifying glasses.

  Dragon wore the clockwork device and waited for the lenses to stop whirring. When the sky came into focus, he saw two dots instead of one and swore. “Gabriel’s ship is under attack,” he said under his breath. “Let’s take Ferocity and hope we are not already late.”

  3

  Standing at Ferocity’s crowded deck, Dragon looked at the black brigantine. The enemy ship floated between Dragon’s slender schooner and Celestial Star, maintaining both under their sight.

  The lack of action could mean several things. The most farfetched scenario would entail the brigantine experiencing a technical malfunction and needing rescue. The more probable explanation was that the ship was reloading their weapons and biding their time as it kept both of them under the aim of its hidden cannons.

  “Repeat the signal,” Dragon commanded, tired of the standstill.

  In space, short range communication between ships relied on a complex system of flags and lights to send messages. Dragon inwardly cursed the interstellar rules. They had already made an attempt less than a minute ago when they reached the minimum distance required to read the signals.

  Captain Poe, Ferocity’s skipper, nodded at the first mate who dutifully activated the sequenced message requesting the brigantine to identify its ownership.

  “If they were pirates, they would’ve displayed their colors by now,” Valerian said when the vessel refused to identify itself.

  “They are mercenaries,” Captain Poe said. “I’d rather face pirates than those scumbags for hire. Pirates follow their code of law at least, which makes them predictable, but mercenaries—”

  Mercenary vessels sold their allegiance for a pretty coin, but the crew didn’t normally survive failure. Manned by a skeleton team, such ships had a reputation for being ruthless because their teams wore dead-rings. Their employers paid ten or twenty times for a job well done but also demanded all human personnel wear bombs at their throats. Crude metal bands containing remotely activated explosive devices shackled the crew, and only when they reported back with news of their victory would their employer free them. Any attempt to break the bands would activate the bombs. Usually, cocky lowlifes would try their luck, lured by the pr
omise of instant riches. But sometimes, desperate merchants about to lose their livelihood would fall prey to unscrupulous entities who wanted to remain in the shadows.

  Dragon pointed at the large black body outside the porthole, “Whoever is at the helm of that ship knew exactly when to intercept Celestial Star. Right before they reached communication range.”

  Not only had the mercenaries blocked communication between the cruiser and Solaria, the brigantine’s position also made it impossible for Gabriel’s ship and Ferocity to exchange messages. Dragon was left to wonder what was happening on Celestial Star but hoped his friend was fine. From the little he had gathered at the scene, the Celestian vessel remained in the same spot, which meant its engines worked. Otherwise, it would’ve been floating away, attracted by Solaria’s pull.

  Interstellar code of conduct followed, there was no time left to waste. Dragon shouted, “Fire!” at the same time the brigantine shot at them, confirming his suspicions.

  Ferocity’s captain had seen many a battle and skirted the blast by veering out of the way at the last second. “They have bidirectional plasma cannons.” He swore. “There’s only one company in the entire Fifth Moon System that produces those kinds of cannons that can shoot in two directions at once. They are made of an expensive alloy, and their aim is always accurate and can reach further than any other weapon mounted on a warship. Celestial Star’s shield won’t stand a continuous attack.”

  “This has the Front Pro Humanity written all over its shiny, mercenary hulk,” Valerian said between volleys. His hands grabbed the deck rail as he stabilized his stance before the next wave.

  “No doubt about it.” Dragon calculated their course to intercept the brigantine before it fired against Gabriel’s vessel again.

  The mercenaries purposefully kept shadowing the smaller ship to keep Celestial Star in the blind spot. The enemy captain knew what he was doing.

  “What’s the net’s range?” Dragon asked Captain Poe.

  The man opened his mouth, but an explosion cut him off before he could reply.

  The deck rocked under a direct hit, and the lights dimmed for a moment before shining red as a warning siren set off loud and persistent.

  “Damages?” Captain Poe shouted to be heard above the din.

  “Shields down to forty percent,” the first mate mouthed.

  “Pressure’s out in the payload bay.” The bosun checked his monitor. “Compartments locked. The crew is on its way.”

  “Engines at eighty percent,” the engineer yelled back.

  “Hull secured,” the bosun said.

  The first mate raised his hand and gave the thumbs up. “Shields up to seventy.”

  “Eighty-five…” the engineer said. “Ninety.”

  The lights turned yellow before becoming white again, and the siren stopped, signaling that the situation was stable.

  Leaning back against his chair, the engineer wiped his forehead. “One hundred percent.”

  “What’s the net’s range?” Dragon repeated his question.

  Captain Poe scratched his chin as he kept himself anchored to the railing. “Twenty kilometers—”

  Dragon turned toward the first mate. “How far are we from the brigantine?”

  “Three hundred eighty-four kilometers,” the man answered.

  “What do you have in mind?” Captain Poe asked.

  “Charge,” Dragon said.

  Several sets of eyes swung his way.

  Dragon pointed at the porthole occupying the entire front wall. “When we are close enough to the brigantine, we’ll launch the net and yank them behind us as we veer to the right—”

  “Once the mercenaries are removed, for all we know we might end up barreling against Celestial Star,” Valerian said. “They have blinded us. We’ll know Gabriel’s position only when it’s too late.”

  The captain nodded. “He’s right. I can’t change our course fast enough to avoid collision with Master Martelli’s ship if they are in our path.”

  One after the other, two explosions rocked the schooner, throwing people to the deck floor.

  Red light and a louder siren filled the space, competing with the officers’ shouts.

  “Auxiliary engine, twenty percent—”

  “Shields down—”

  “Multiple breaches in the hull—”

  “Locking the bridge—”

  This time, it took several seconds before the lights dimmed to yellow, but they didn’t go back to white. The siren too stayed in the background.

  Standing at the wheel alongside the captain, Dragon said, “We need to charge before they reload their cannons.”

  The captain looked at the engineer. After a moment, the man raised his eyes from the monitor. “We have enough juice for one try.”

  “Can you alter our trajectory to remain true to our course but enough so that we can signal Celestial Star to change their route?” Dragon asked the first mate.

  The first mate calculated the required equation before answering. “Between the angle needed to charge at the brigantine at full force and still be able to yank them away, it’s going to be tight.”

  “Is it possible?” Dragon asked.

  “Highly dangerous and possibly catastrophic, but yes, it’s possible,” the man said, his eyes bright with excitement.

  “Good enough.” Dragon nodded at the captain. “Full speed.”

  “Strap yourself in,” the captain spoke into the communication gramophone, warning the rest of the crew.

  Dragon sat in his chair and buckled the large straps against his chest.

  The captain gave him a nod.

  Dragon shouted, “Charge!”

  After the first moment when it seemed like Ferocity fought against the thrust, the ship sprang ahead, flattening everybody against their seats.

  In a matter of seconds, the schooner gained velocity with a speed that left Dragon out of breath. With tears flying out of his eyes, he kept his gaze on the porthole where the brigantine grew larger and larger. The black ship’s bulky form soon occupied the entire window, casting a shadow inside Ferocity’s deck.

  Hundreds of kilometers became dozens.

  The dim lights and siren seemed all too loud and bright in the silence of the deck. Nobody moved. Only a portion of the brigantine was now visible through the porthole. Still, Ferocity charged ahead, devouring the distance left between them, gaining speed like an avalanche.

  When it looked like the brigantine was about to swallow them all, Ferocity veered ever so slightly left.

  “Signal Celestial Star. They must move at once,” the captain ordered the first mate as he gave the engineer a nod.

  Lights and flags went out at the same time the net was launched, and Ferocity kept veering to the side. The brigantine disappeared from the porthole. For a moment, nothing happened. Then Ferocity tilted on its axis as the mercenary ship was thrown out of its orbit, but pulled at them through their conjoining tether.

  Captain Poe yelled, “What’s happening?”

  “The brigantine is heavier than it should be,” the first officer shouted.

  A moment later, the mercenary ship reappeared in front of them. Only it wasn’t the same vessel. It was a huge man-of-war.

  “Those bastards,” Valerian said as they watched the war machine raise its mast. “They used a masking shield—”

  “The good news is that they threw us off Celestian Star and we aren’t going to smash against them,” the captain said.

  “And the bad news?” Dragon asked.

  “We don’t have enough power to escape the mercenaries,” the captain answered.

  The gargantuan spaceship sailed fast toward them, discarding the remains of the tattered net as if they were nothing more than cobwebs. Twelve additional cannons emerged from the quarterdeck. Their ringed mouths glowed as the weapons readied to fire their plasma ammunition.

  Ferocity’s deck was bathed in red once again.

  Staring at the impossible sight of their enem
y ready to obliterate them, Dragon brought his hand to his heart as his thoughts went to Jade.

  He would never see her again.

  4

  Blinding white light illuminated the space surrounding Ferocity as the man-of-war’s cannons fired. Celestial Star probably received a similar treatment, but it was impossible to determine without visual confirmation.

  Commands and reports crossed as Ferocity’s captain and crew shouted at the same time.

  “High Lord,” the captain called.

  The unasked question resonated loud in Dragon’s mind.

  What are your final orders?

  “Change course and charge,” he answered. “We’ll detonate our cannons at impact and try to save Gabriel.”

  If the plasma bolts hadn’t destroyed Celestial Star already.

  “It was an honor serving you, High Lord.” Captain Poe brought his right fist to his heart. The rest of the crew on the deck followed his example.

  Dragon mirrored them before turning to Valerian. “I wished for you only happiness,” he said.

  His friend’s eyes widened in surprise. “Dragon—”

  So many things would be left unsaid, but that was life. Fair or unfair didn’t enter the equation when life and death were at stake.

  “Brother—” Dragon pumped his fist against his chest.

  “Brother.” Valerian brought index and middle fingers to his lips before placing them against his chest as well.

  “Let’s save Gabriel’s sorry ass,” Dragon said.

  The captain gave the commands that would initiate their kamikaze maneuver.

  Everyone buckled up, needing to remain conscious long enough to carry out the orders.

  A sense of pride swelled in Dragon’s heart at the sight of his loyal crew. A moment later, Ferocity’s increasing acceleration jerked him against his seat, and all conscious thoughts deserted him.

  Someone listed kilometers to impact, the numbers decreasing as their deaths neared.