by J. N. Chaney
“N-no,” she muttered, her eyes distant and cold, flicking between invisible, distant things. “You turned on me. I tried to protect you—always tried to protect you—but you were the same as everyone else. Neither of us had a choice with our lives. The orphanage, and then Mulberry. They put us in cages and called it kindness. I—”
We were—we were slaves. You—You didn’t see it, but—but I saw it. I knew.”
“It’s okay now, Clem,” I whispered, the strain in my throat growing too tight, even as I said the words. “Just let go of those things. They don’t matter anymore.”
A tear ran from her eye and down her cheek. Her fingers tensed and relaxed, and I could see a lifetime of pain and fear on her. She’d kept it inside for so long, always pretending to be strong. Always putting on a show. But here in this moment, I saw the same girl from my childhood, the same innocent child I’d called my sister.
She let out a final sigh, her tired eyes finally relaxing into a quiet, still expression.
“I’m so sorry,” I said as the grief overtook me, and all at once, I felt the weight of my whole life bury me. I wanted to die with her. I wanted to be free.
I was alone now, trapped in this world without her, and all at once, I was afraid.
Twenty
A professional killer could never assume that their target was going to be an easy mark. Every mission had an innumerable number of variables that could never be fully accounted for. Sure, plans were put in place and precautions were taken, but once the proverbial shit hit the proverbial fan, the best professionals were the ones who knew how to improvise.
I slipped into the crowd, my eyes on the target. I wasn’t wearing my armor. As inconspicuous as it was, it would be noticed in a crowd like this. With so many people together, one of them was bound to bump into me and feel the armor react to them.
In this case, anonymity was the best defense.
Besides, it wasn’t like I was expecting a fight. If all went well, I’d be in and out before anybody noticed I was there.
I slipped through the crowd, gently pushing forward faster than the others around me. I wasn’t in a rush. I needed to advance through the crush of people while remaining part of it. Step by step, I kept my eyes down but always tracking my target, moving closer and closer, inching forward until I was less than ten meters away.
Five meters.
Two meters. I was still behind. She couldn’t have noticed me. I reached my hand out.
An iron grip on my wrist stopped me dead in my tracks.
“Did you really think you could sneak up on me, Abby?” Mable asked, turning around.
“I’ve got to stay sharp,” I answered, smiling broadly and wrapping my arms around her.
We moved out of the flow of people, who were already looking at us in annoyance, and stepped into a nearby cafe. We found a table. I asked for a coffee and a plate of breakfast, and Mable did the same.
“You look good,” Mable said, her eyes very serious. “I heard what happened with Clementine. I’m sorry.”
I nodded, but said nothing.
I absently ran my fingers over the wound in my shoulder. It had healed, but the memory was still fresh.
“How’re you holding up?” she asked.
“Well, the doc gave me some meds, patched me up, and sent me on my way after a few weeks. I used the time to track you down. Alec helped with that.”
She nodded, and the server returned with our orders. A few moments of silence passed.
“Why are you here, Abby?” she finally asked.
I swallowed a piece of meat, then washed it down with some milk. “Mulberry asked me to give you a message when he died.”
“Did he?” she asked.
“He said—” I paused, surprised at the sudden lump in my throat. “He said to tell you he was sorry. He wanted you to know he loved you more than anything, and he should’ve gone with you, all those years ago. That was it, I think.”
She stared at the table for a few seconds, a familiar, tender smile taking shape across her face. It was the same one I’d seen all those years ago, back in the orphanage. The same simple joy she’d shown to everyone who would see, and then again when she’d brought us to Mulberry. “Did he?” she asked, nostalgia in her voice. “That much, I do believe.”
We ate together for a few minutes before either of us spoke again. We had known each other for so long but had been separated for most of it. Still, we shared so much with one another, between our professions and the people we knew. Mulberry, Clementine, Pearl, and all the others in the guild and the Church. I loved this woman, and I knew that she felt the same about me.
“I never wanted that life for you, you know?” asked Mable. “You needed to leave the orphanage, and his was the first name that came to mind. You were only supposed to work there until he found you a better place. One thing led to another and—”
“I know,” I said, feeling my voice cracking as I stared into the coffee cup. “He saw something dark in Clem. I was just there for the ride. If I’d never joined her, I never would’ve been there at the end. Maybe things would have been—”
“Don’t do that, Abby,” she said, placing her hand on my arm again. “What happened that night was Clem’s fault and nobody else’s. She broke a long time ago. Maybe Mackavoy did it to her. Maybe it happened before we ever knew her. Only the gods know for certain, and I suspect they’ll never tell.”
“That’s what Pearl kept telling me,” I said, keeping my voice low. “Someday, maybe I’ll believe it.”
Mable smiled and leaned over to stroke my hair. “So, where are you going now?”
“Mulberry’s last wish was for me to leave this whole life behind. Honestly, I’d been toying with the idea myself. After everything, I don’t think I can just go back to it. Too many memories.” I let out a sigh. “Maybe I’ll travel around, find something that I love, and do that. The universe is a big place, right? There has to be something out there for me.”
Mable chuckled. “I’m glad you’re leaving that place behind you. Finding something that you love is always more fulfilling.”
I tilted my head. “Is that why you became a nun?”
She shrugged. “There were other elements to my choice at the time. Penance mostly, but over the years, I found myself caring for the children more than worrying about paying for my past sins. I didn’t know it, but finding you and the other girls were the greatest joy in my life.” She blinked, her eyes suddenly distant. “That, and being with that man.”
We finished our meal, then stood from the table, and I wrapped my arms around her, holding on to the moment for as long as she’d let me.
“I’m going to miss you,” I whispered, leaning back to look at her. “Where are you going from here?”
“I think it’s best if you don’t know,” Mable said softly. “I’m going to disappear. Even with Clementine gone, there are plenty of people in this universe that want me dead. I can’t afford to stay in one place for very long.”
I nodded, but it still broke my heart.
“In that case, I hope to run into you sometime in the future, Sister Mable,” I said.
“Me too, dear.” She stroked my cheek. “Goodbye for now.”
She turned around and walked out of the café. I considered leaving, too, but brushed a tear from my cheek and took a seat instead.
I sipped at my coffee. “You didn’t have to sit all the way over there, you know.”
Pearl looked over from the table in front of me. “I didn’t want to ruin the moment.”
I shrugged. “It’s okay. I’m pretty sure she knew you were there anyway.”
“Probably.” She stood up from her table and joined me at mine.
“So,” I began.
“So,” she said.
“Babysitting me?” I asked.
“More or less,” she said, tilting her head. “You left without saying a word to anyone. I had to find out where you were by interrogating Alec.”
“Poor guy,” I said.
“Trust me, he’s fine,” she assured me. “I mostly just wanted to let you know we’re dissolving the guild.”
“Oh?” I asked, only partially surprised by the idea. With Mulberry dead, it certainly made sense. He was the backbone of that entire operation.
Pearl shrugged. “I’m retiring. Without Mulberry around, it’ll be too hard to start it up again. I’ve saved up enough for me to find a nice quiet place in the Deadlands, far from anyone who might have a problem with someone in my line of work. Maybe take up some ridiculous hobby that old women do. Knitting. Gambling. Maybe I’ll buy a ship and fly to the edge of the galaxy. Hell, who am I kidding? I’ll probably wind up as a Renegade info broker. We both know I can’t help myself.” She shrugged. “Or maybe I’ll just take up fly fishing.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You should get a cat. You don’t know the first thing about fly fishing.”
“I could learn,” Pearl said, rather insistently. “How hard can it be?”
We both laughed.
“Well, I guess this is it, then,” I said, after a bit of silence. “For both of us.”
“I guess so, kid,” she agreed, taking a sip of Mable’s coffee. “You told the nun you were planning on leaving, is that right?”
I nodded.
“Getting away from everything is good,” she told me.
“Helps you figure out your priorities. Wait, how much do you have saved up?”
I made a face. “Enough for at least a couple years of frugal spending. And when that runs out, I’m not exactly helpless. Worst case scenario, I can always become a nun like Mable did.”
Pearl shook her head. “Are you kidding me?” she asked, almost disgusted. “Figures, you’ve always been soft like that.”
“Look who’s talking,” I said, narrowing my eyes.
“I never asked to take care of a couple of kids,” she said with a scoff.
“No, but you did a fine job, anyway.” I smiled at her.
Pearl beamed, not hiding her satisfaction. She leaned over, placing a small pad on the table in front of me. On the screen, I spotted my picture on a passport file, along with a ticket for a shuttle that would be leaving the planet in a couple of hours.
I picked it up, examining my new identity.
My eyes fell on the name: Abigail Pryar.
I smiled.
“I’m still a little surprised you picked that name,” Pearl said, leaning back into her seat. “What? Are you surprised Alec gave it up? You should have known I’d find out.”
“The name felt right,” I said, ignoring the question about Alec.
Pearl chuckled. “I don’t think Mulberry ever had any kids. None that he ever told me about, which doesn’t actually say much. But I think he’d be happy to know that you’re the one that’s going to be carrying his name forward. A part of his legacy. One of the best parts.”
“Shut up,” I grumbled, trying to roll my eyes as the smile remained on my face. “I don’t want to start crying here.”
“Then you might want to—” Pearl made a brushing motion on her cheek. I rushed my hand over my face. A tear had fallen without me even noticing. I cursed softly, pushing it away.
“It’s fine, kid,” Pearl said. “Sometimes it takes a long time to let it all out, and even then, maybe it doesn’t really leave. That’s the way it goes with loss, and now you know.”
I placed the pad in my satchel and stood up. Pearl followed my lead, and we both went out into the street. As soon as the doors closed, I pulled her to me and hugged her close, the same way I had with Mable.
“Drop me a line when you’re set up,” I told her. “We can go fly fishing together.”
“I’m rethinking that actually,” Pearl said. “Sounds super boring. Probably just going to get a cabin in the woods. Hunt my dinner. Grow a beard. Start complaining about politicians. You know, that’s the real life.”
“Well,” I said, pulling away with a laugh. “Whatever you end up doing, you just let me know. We can complain together.”
Pearl grinned and leaned close to place a kiss on my cheek. “Will do, kid. In the meantime, you have yourself a good life. Make it better than the last one. Find your purpose, the way you always meant to.”
“Thanks, Miss Pearl. You too,” I said.
She smiled. “See you in the world, kid.”
Epilogue
A soft feminine voice announced that boarding for the shuttle to Crescent had begun at gate eighteen. I picked my bag up from the floor and slung it over my shoulder. There weren’t that many people headed to Crescent, so only a handful of others followed me as I approached the loading dock.
A pretty young woman with red hair greeted me with a smile and asked for my boarding pass. I handed it to her. She scanned it with a machine and handed it back with another smile.
“Enjoy your flight!” she said in an obviously forced, chirpy voice.
“Thanks,” I replied with an equally forced smile as I stepped past her. I walked through the tunnel that led into the shuttle. It wasn’t a big thing. Basically, a room with the passenger seats, complete with buckles and oxygen masks in case of emergency, and a lounge area with dispensers for drinks and food to be enjoyed on the way.
The cockpit and baggage areas were sealed off, only accessible by members of the crew which consisted of two pilots and three attendants. The three were directing passengers to take their seats and preparing for takeoff. Slipspace travel could be a bumpy ride.
I didn’t really have much in the way of luggage other than some clothes, my pad, a few electronics, and the other bare essentials. Pearl had given me the contact information of a guy that could get me some weapons or armor on Crescent, should I need them, but I wasn’t sure I would. Not for a time, anyway.
The artificial gravity locked in as the ship’s engines started. The whole room shuddered as they started powering up, and after about a minute, we lifted off the ground. A brief second before the dampeners kicked in, I felt myself press back into my seat as we started gaining speed and altitude.
I looked out the window, watching Osiris fade with every passing second. This would be the last time I’d ever see this planet, and I had to say, I didn’t’ mind.
It only took us a few minutes to enter the stratosphere, and soon, we were in orbit. I leaned into my window, scanning the open space around us, watching the planet grow smaller in the distance. Even though I couldn’t feel it anymore, I knew we were still accelerating.
The slip tunnel opening was halfway between this planet and the fifth, a barren world named Axti.
Fifteen minutes. That was how long it took before the pilot opened the rift. An anomaly in space that so few people understood and even the wisest of them only had fragments of knowledge. Slipspace, in all its emerald glory, lay before us.
I’d seen this sight before, but never had it looked so beautiful. Never had it been so freeing. It wasn’t the way I’d wanted to do it, of course, but orphans couldn’t be choosers.
The possibilities of my future were all before me. I could do anything. I could be anything.
I could be a nun, an assassin, a dancer, or an analyst. I could be a wife or a doctor, an actress or a vagabond. I could do them all or none, because finally, after all these years, I had a choice in how my life would unfold. I would be the master of myself, and I would never let anyone tell me otherwise.
As the tunnel tore open, and I saw the beautiful lightning crack across the inner green walls. I slipped my hand into my pack, pulling out my childhood pad, and I found a book.
Tales of the Earth: Mankind’s Lost Homeworld.
I ran my fingers over the screen, staring at the title page.
I took a deep breath. I wasn’t going to cry. Despite all the goodbyes, today was a joyful one. The first day of my life.
I smiled as the slip tunnel tugged at the shuttle, dragging us in. It started shaking the hull, and I could feel the now-familiar vibration as the tunnel started speeding u
s off toward Crescent. Green lights flashed across the windows. Emeralds made of light filled my view as I leaned back in my seat.
Once we were inside, the rest of the passengers unbuckled and started moving toward the lounge. I unbuckled too, but I stayed in my chair, tucking my knees up to my chest while putting the pad down on the table in front of me and flipping to the very first page.
It began with a small note:
Long ago, Mankind knew only one home. One world in all the universe to call its own. All races and creeds lived upon this rock, all vying for the same mound of dirt, knowing nothing of all the distant worlds still waiting to be found.
They called their lonely planet “Earth,” and it was a place of true wonder. It was a realm of unimaginable history and human progress. Many say this is a myth. They claim it to be a legend, written by madmen and rehearsed by grandmothers in the late hours of the night.
But if you would listen, I would show you stories that would leave you in awe. Stories of plains as vast as oceans, cities that stretch across continents, and ships as big as moons. Stories of ancient history, of which we only have fragments, but which speak of great and wonderful things.
The Earth is out there, waiting for its children to return.
It waits for you and I both, dear Reader.
We need only reach out and believe.
-Dr. Darius Clare
Author Notes
Nameless was a story I’ve wanted to write for some time, ever since Renegade Lost was released. Fans have been asking what Abigail Pryar’s backstory was, and I wanted to tell them, but I wanted to do it justice with its own book. Nameless is the result of that.
Abigail’s journey is one riddled with hardship and loss, but she chooses to move forward, no matter the situation. That is what makes her so compelling to me. It takes one hell of a woman to break into a government-controlled facility and rescue a little girl, as we see in Renegade Star, and now we know why.
I hope this story resonated with you, whether you’re new to the Renegade universe or a seasoned reader. Either way, this story is meant to stand alone, adding to the overall mythology while also telling something entirely new.
