Good Intentions (Chaos of the Covenant Book 6)

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Good Intentions (Chaos of the Covenant Book 6) Page 21

by M. R. Forbes


  “I can’t apologize for actions that occurred long before we had ever taken to the stars,” Sylvan said. “All I can do is try to help make it right, for Charlie’s sake.”

  “Who’s Charlie, again?” Quark asked.

  “My wife,” Sylvan replied.

  “A formerly high-ranking Seraphim,” Olus added. “But he’s right, that isn’t important now. So, you’re saying it’s possible that Abigail is dead?”

  “No. I’m certain she isn’t.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Did you notice the ships out there, the ones with the blue veins?”

  “I did,” Quark said.

  “Those are Seedships. They came through the Elysium Gate with the Shardship a quarter-million years ago. Each contains a Node, an access point to the Focus on the Shardship. The technology behind it isn’t important, but what is important is that about a week ago, they lost access to the Focus.”

  “Meaning something, or someone shut the Focus down?” Olus asked.

  “Or disconnected the link between it and the Nodes. There’s only one person who could have done it.”

  “So you have heard from Abbey?”

  “Not in the traditional sense, but yes. If I had to guess, I would say she’s in the Extant by now.”

  “The Extant?”

  “This galaxy is only a fraction of the greater universe, and this universe is only a fraction of the entire multiverse that the One created. The Extant lies beyond the range of our disterium-based FTL technology, but not beyond the range of the Shardship’s wormhole generators.”

  “Why would she have gone there?” Olus asked.

  “Because that’s where the Shard told her to go.”

  “I’m confused,” Quark said.

  “What’s her play, then?” Olus said, ignoring him.

  “Show the Nephilim the truth of the One, and soften the hardness of their hearts.”

  Quark laughed. “If that isn’t the biggest mamby-pamby statement I’ve ever heard. You’re telling me Cage would buy into that bullshit?”

  “You’re telling me you believe that bullshit?” Olus said to Sylvan.

  “The Light of the Shard has the ability to remove the corruption of the altered naniates. It isn’t as mystical as all of that, but yes, I believe it is possible.”

  “Kumbaya,” Quark said.

  “In any case, she’ll return if she survives. I’ve been working to build the fleet in the meantime.”

  “Even if she survives, even if she returns, she might not be of any use to us,” Olus said. “I hate to put it that way, but with Hayley under Thraven’s control? We can’t count on her.”

  “Not to mention, General,” Quark said. “The Republic is falling apart. Thraven is seizing planets while we’re standing here shooting the shit.”

  “How do you know?” Sylvan asked.

  “Haulers have their own back channels,” Quark said. “And the Quasar is keyed into Outworlds networks. We’ve been listening to the chatter.”

  “He’ll start sending prisoners to the Gate any day now,” Olus said. “We don’t have any more time.”

  General Kett was silent again, except for the rhythmic tapping of his fingers on the desk. “We have to slow them down. If we take the Galnet offline, do you think that will help?”

  “Yes, General,” Olus said without hesitation.

  “You said you would need my help. What kind of help?”

  Olus glanced over at Quark. Then he smiled. “You aren’t going to like it.”

  “I don’t like any of this. What do you need?”

  “The Brimstone.”

  37

  “Have you found them?” Gloritant Thraven asked, looking at the projection of Captain Vishek, the Terran commander of the Valkyrie battle group.

  “No, sir,” Vishek replied. “We’ve been running sniffers across this whole quadrant. If they’re here, they’re avoiding detection somehow.”

  “An entire fleet doesn’t simply avoid detection,” Thraven said. “Didn’t you go to officer’s training? Do you have any competence at all?”

  The Captain’s face flushed. “Aye, sir. What are your orders, sir?”

  “Leave a small task force behind to monitor the area and move on to the next zone,” Thraven said. “I want General Kett and his rebels found, and I want them found now.”

  He had to restrain himself to keep from trying to choke the Republic Captain. Not that he could harm the man from here. He didn’t have the Gift and had never drunk of the Font.

  “Aye, sir,” Vishek replied. “For the Glory of the Great Return.”

  Thraven disconnected the link and looked over at Honorant Bane. “These Lessers are barely able to speak, let alone think,” he said, forgetting that Bane was like them, only from the Outworlds instead of the Republic. A Lesser all the same.

  “Yes, Gloritant,” Bane replied dutifully.

  It was the reason he hadn’t been completely surprised when the Asmodeus had arrived damaged and without Captain Mann on board. The Captain had escaped with the help of the mercenary Colonel Quark after the Colonel had killed one of Don Pallimo’s synths and stolen the cane the synth used to control his robotic helpers. Apparently, Mann had hacked the cane to gain access to the drones Honorant Freich had been gathering and used them to create a diversion while he got away. It was clever and impressive, two traits that Thraven often associated with the former head of the OSI.

  It was also of little importance. He had Hayley Cage. Captain Mann’s value was limited, as was his potential to cause further disruption to his plans. Besides, it was safe to guess that Mann would be on his way to Kett, and now that everything else was back under control finding the wayward General and the Brimstone was at the top of his agenda.

  Find Kett, find Mann, kill them both. He liked that idea.

  Then again, locating Kett had been harder than he expected. He had every available ship under his control, both Republic and Outworld, scouring the Fringe for signs of the rogue fleet, with few results so far. He wasn’t sure how the General was managing to stay hidden from him, but it did frustrate him that Kett was outmaneuvering him. There was no way he was managing that on his own. While he had killed Charmeine back on Azure, perhaps there was another Seraphim Archchancellor whispering in his ear?

  “Honorant Bane, you have the bridge,” Thraven said, rising from the command station.

  As before, Bane announced his departure and the rest of the crew stood and saluted.

  As before, he ignored them on his way off the bridge.

  His Immolent trailed him as he made his way down to the medical bay to check on Hayley. It had been nearly two days since he had bestowed the Gift on her. Long enough that he was beginning to become concerned.

  Emerant Loque fell to his knee and bowed his head as Thraven swept into the area. Even the medical bots paused at his appearance, offering the respect they were capable of.

  “Rise,” he said to Loque, freeing his servant and his servant’s servants to continue their activities.

  “Your Eminence,” Loque said. “I assume you’ve come to review Hayley Cage’s situation personally?”

  “I have. Take me to her.”

  Loque bowed slightly and led Thraven the short distance from the lobby of the medical bay to one of the isolation rooms at the back.

  “I’ve never seen anything like this, Gloritant,” Loque said on the way. “Normally by this time the subject is either in recovery or completely subverted by the Gift. Two days, and Cage remains in the intermediary state.”

  He motioned to a medical bot, which inserted a key into the door and opened it for them. Thraven entered the room ahead of Loque. Hayley was on a platform bed in the back of the room, a light blanket covering her. Her eyes were open but unmoving, her body still and pale. She looked as though she were dead, but he knew better than that.

  He approached her, leaning over her and putting his hand on her neck where he had bitten her. He reached out with his G
ift, feeling for the naniates within her. They were still there, and they were trying to attack her system.

  Two days, and she was still fighting them, refusing to seize control and at the same time refusing to relinquish it. He had never seen anything like it, either. He could only imagine what she saw behind those flat eyes.

  “What is your opinion of this, Emolent?” he asked, taking his hand away and looked back at Loque.

  “Her mind is strong enough to keep the Gift at bay, though she also has little natural affinity for it, unlike her mother. I know you wanted her to be your next Noviant, and potentially an Immolent, your Eminence. I don’t believe the Father has that fate in store for her.”

  “He continues to challenge me at every turn,” Thraven agreed. “As is his way. The question is: what does the Father intend?”

  “She is dying, your Eminence, that much is clear. Her mind will break, and she will be nothing but a corpse. I can save her, but are you willing to do what must be done?”

  Thraven wasn’t sure. “She becomes a token against Abigail Cage. I wanted her to be so much more than that. If she dies? Her mother’s rage may be the end of her.” He looked back at Hayley. “How much longer can she remain like this?”

  “Hours at best, Gloritant.”

  Thraven nodded. “I will make my decision soon.”

  “Your Eminence, you should know. Even if she wakes, her mind may already be damaged. There’s no way to know what the effect of this will be on her.”

  Thraven was about to answer when he felt a warm tickle at the base of his spine that grew in intensity over the next few seconds.

  “Gloritant?” Loque said.

  “Keep her as she is for now. I have an urgent matter to attend to.”

  He retreated from the medical bay immediately, crossing the Promise until he reached the Font. He drew up to it but did not enter, reaching out to it with the Gift.

  The blood bubbled and churned, and then rose from the Font, forming into the shape of another Nephilim.

  “Your Eminence,” the form said, saluting him.

  “Azul,” Thraven replied. “I expect you have good reason to contact me through the Bloodline.”

  “I do. One of my trade markets has been attacked, the slaves taken.”

  “I don’t have time to deal with transgressions on my writ right now. You are one of my Disciples; it is on you to handle the offending Prophet.”

  “My Lord Thraven, wait,” Azul said. “This was not the typical raid from a competing Prophet. My Apostants who were at the scene claim that Gehenna is risen.”

  Thraven froze. That was impossible.

  “Your Apostants are mistaken. The Shardship is lost and unrecoverable.” There was no chance that Kett would ever reveal its location. Was there?

  “My apologies, Eminence, but one does not mistakenly sight the return of the Dark One’s vessel. Gehenna has entered the Nephiliat.”

  Thraven felt his anger spike, the fury causing his entire body to become tense. “Do you have any word from the market itself? Was a woman spotted there? Was she cloaked in light?

  “There were no survivors in the market, your Eminence. The slaves were all taken. Everyone else was killed. I do not know.”

  It was Cage. It had to be. Kett had decided to reveal the location of the Focus to her after all. He had entrusted her with the Seraphim’s greatest secret and most powerful weapon. She had brought it to the Extant. Why?

  “Where is it now?” Thraven asked.

  “I don’t know, my Lord.”

  Why the Extant? Why now? She could use the Focus to challenge him. She could end everything with the Blood of the Shard. Why had she abandoned her galaxy? Why had she abandoned her child?

  “Her name is Abigail Cage. She has accepted the Light of the Shard. She will be interested in destabilizing the Nephiliat, as I destabilized her government. Only she doesn’t have much time. This is not a threat to take lightly.”

  “A woman from Shardspace? And you say I shouldn’t take it lightly? Is being away from the Nephiliat making you soft?”

  Thraven knew he was joking. Even so, there wasn’t another Prophet in the universe he would have allowed to speak to him that way. “You were a Lesser once, too, Azul. I told you, she bears the Light of the Shard.”

  “How did she come by it?”

  He wasn’t about to tell his Disciple how Abigail Cage had come into her power. “It is the Father testing my resolve,” he said instead. “And perhaps yours as well. If you can find her, stop her. Use whatever means necessary.” He paused, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “But first, tell her that Hayley isn’t well, and needs her mother.”

  “I don’t understand, my Lord?”

  “You don’t need to understand. Simply obey.”

  “Yes, your Eminence. I have one other matter I need to take care of before I can hunt down the Host and confront Gehenna. I have been planning it for some time.”

  Thraven understood what Azul was suggesting. While he had ordered a ceasefire between the Prophets of the Nephiliat, there was one other thorn in his side he was willing to make exceptions for.

  “Deal with it swiftly. She will seek to undermine my writ, and if any Lesser in the universe can throw the Nephiliat into turmoil, it’s her. If she’s raided a slave market, then she’s already begun. I was once a slave, and even I understand their value, while the Sharders do not.”

  “As you command, my Lord.”

  Thraven held out his hand, and the Blood splashed back into the Font and grew still.

  Only for a moment. He lifted his other hand, pushing the Gift to the Font and linking their power. Then he closed his eyes, imagining the dim place of stone and steel where the Caretaker of the Covenant resided.

  A new figure formed in the blood. He was larger than Azul but slightly stooped. Thraven knew the Caretaker was old. He had been alive when the Seraphim had arrived in this galaxy. He had helped Lucifer start his war.

  “Belial,” Thraven said.

  “The Prophet Selvig Thraven,” Belial replied. His voice was crisp and stiff. “How goes your war?”

  “The Elysium Gate is complete. Shardspace is fallen to chaos.”

  “Then what can an old Seraphim traitor do for you, Great Uniter?”

  Belial was patronizing him. He made a fist the Caretaker couldn’t see, channeling his anger to it. “There is a complication.”

  The Caretaker laughed. Of course, he did. Thraven was expecting it.

  “There is always a complication,” Belial said at last.

  “You told me if the need was great, you could offer some assistance.”

  “Is the need that great, Gloritant? Is your failure imminent?”

  “No, but-”

  “Be careful what you ask for from me, Selvig,” Belial said. “You may not like the outcome.”

  “The Light of the Shard is in the Nephiliat aboard the Shardship,” Thraven said. “She is a threat to the Extant.”

  There was no way to discern expressions through the Bloodline, but Belial’s pause indicated he understood the magnitude of the situation. It was no secret to any of them that their technology was outdated and inferior to the Sharders. The Gift gave them an advantage normal Terran ships had no chance of matching. A Gifted, on the other hand?

  Abigail was especially dangerous in their territory, even if she were vastly outnumbered.

  “I will consider your words,” Belial said. “And act accordingly.”

  “How will I know if the time has come?” Thraven asked.

  “You will know,” Belial replied. “Believe me. You will know.”

  The Bloodline dropped, the Blood spilling back into the Font. He had been dismissed.

  He shouted and pawed at the air with sudden claws, hissing with elongated teeth and cursing the Caretaker until his fury began to recede. Then he straightened his uniform and ran a hand through his hair, making sure it was contained. He returned to the medical bay.

  “Your Emine
nce,” Emerant Loque said, dropping to his knees as he entered.

  “Stand up,” Thraven said. “I want Cage alive. Do what you must to heal her.”

  “As you wish, Gloritant. There is a chance she might die anyway.”

  “Then as I promised, so will you.”

  Emerant Loque blanched, nodding and backing away.

  “Keep me updated,” Thraven said, turning and storming from the room.

  It always infuriated him how things could flip from calm to chaos so quickly.

  38

  “There’s no way in hell that this is a good idea, Queenie,” Gant said, looking at the terminal for the teleporter.

  “I’ve heard that a lot lately,” Abbey replied. “Too much. We’re not exactly on the winning edge of this thing. We need to be creative.”

  “There’s creative, and then there’s crazy. This is crazy.”

  “You said you took care of it.”

  “I said I did my best. It’s the same situation as before. I could wind up killing you.”

  “Us. You’re coming with me, remember?”

  “How could I forget? This wasn’t how I ever envisioned my life going, even after I woke up in Hell.”

  “Then you should be excited by the opportunity. Do you need to do anything else here?”

  “No. Keeper said he would take care of it.”

  “He’s been much more amicable the last few hours.”

  “I think he’s eager to get the rats off the ship.”

  “Us or the Asura?”

  Gant chittered. “Both.”

  “Come on.” Abbey headed away from the teleporter, with Gant beside her.

  “Are you sure you can manage this, Queenie?” Gant said. “You said you need to link with the naniates from the Focus to make the jump.”

  “I feel good. Strong. Ready.”

  “Are you nervous about Lucifer?”

  “No. Pudding hasn’t finished her study yet, but the early results were promising. No obvious signs of contamination and I only need to use it for a few seconds.”

  “Obvious signs,” Gant said. “What if I fragged something up again? If I did, this is going to be the shortest battle that’s never been fought.”

 

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