Shadow Run

by Michael Miller

  Arjan’s voice came calmly over the comm, even though his brain should have been scrambled from all that spinning. “Brace yourselves.”

  Trust, I thought, then threw our extra stabilizing thrusters on full blast.

  “Engage the mag-field.”

  I hit the button, and the dark space between the net’s cables crackled to glowing, radiant life.

  We all felt it the moment the net caught the ships’ undersides. The Kaitan lurched and shuddered. If the skiff’s arc had been violent before, now Arjan was like a missile on the end of a string as he wrapped the net around our pursuers. The meteor shower of actual missiles cutting the sky behind him could no longer come close to catching up to him. The problem was, with the cables winding around the ships and losing length, Arjan was flinging himself directly into them.

  “Arjan!” I cried.

  “Cut loose in three, two, one…now!”

  I smashed that button. The cables popped free of the Kaitan, rippling outward from the broken tension. It gave him enough slack to close the loop, encircling the bounty hunters’ ships in a golden magnetic field. He even cinched it tighter, crunching them closer together.

  Just before he would have careened into them, Arjan cut the cables loose on his end and shot off into space.

  Two of the ships began firing at each other to get free, and the other was caught between them. Their thrusters burned into each other’s hulls. One of them would probably explode before too long, but I didn’t want to stick around for the show.

  The sleek destroyer, huge and pale as a moon, was rising behind them.

  I turned off the stabilizers and, as much as I didn’t want to, I eased off the throttle too, just for a moment. “Arjan, get back to the ship, now!”

  “Already there,” he said a second later.

  The vibration of the opening bay doors hummed against my feet. I barely waited for them to close before I slammed the forward thrusters into full throttle. My back smashed into the seat, and Nev would have gone rolling if he hadn’t seized onto my chair.

  “Hold on,” I said unnecessarily. “We have thirty seconds before I can engage the drive.”

  Eton, Basra, and Telu all swore simultaneously.

  “What?” But it only took a moment’s glance at my feeds to know.

  A white, crackling ring of energy was rippling out from the destroyer. As it hit the three ships jumbled together, all their lights went dead and the net went haywire, arcing and sparking like a magnetic storm. Because that was exactly what it was.

  It was an electromagnetic pulse, bigger and faster than any I’d ever seen. Not that I’d seen that many. In any case, it was tumbling and crashing toward our ship like a tidal wave on the ocean or an avalanche down a mountain—much, much faster than we were moving.

  “That will disable us,” Nev said, his voice breathless. “We’re out of range of the tractor beam, but this is even worse. I can’t believe they’re using that on us. Go, go!”

  “I’m going as fast as I can!” I practically shouted in his face.

  “Don’t you have a turbo you can engage, or something?”

  “This isn’t a damned racing ship! The only form of blasted turbo we have is called a Belarius Drive, and I’m going to engage it in—”

  Telu shrieked, “Stop-fighting-and-engage-it-then-because-it’s-almost-on-us!”

  She was right. The wave had nearly overtaken the Kaitan, lapping at the glowing jets of our thrusters. This was a safe enough distance. Any safer, and we would be done.

  Undeniably abusing my equipment, I hammered on the button.

  For a moment, everything seemed to freeze. I thought maybe the pulse had caught us, and the Kaitan was dead in the water. But it was only that I wasn’t yet used to activating the drive.

  One second, there were stars, fixed in space, and the next they were bleeding by the viewport like drops of liquid light. After a few more seconds, we might as well have been on the other side of the galaxy from the destroyer, we were so far away. Finding us would have been like trying to pinpoint a twinkle in the night sky.

  I collapsed into my chair. Nev flopped over the back of it. For a little while, I didn’t care that our heads were only inches apart as we breathed.

  “Well,” Nev said, practically in my ear. “That was fun.”

  I couldn’t help it; a laugh tore out of me. We met each other’s eyes in surprise—Great Collapse, the silver-gray was so bright this close—but before I could say anything, Arjan and Eton burst onto the bridge, followed by Telu and Basra. I was barely on my feet before Arjan threw himself at me, almost toppling me with his hug. Before Basra could object, Arjan snatched his coat and dragged him into his arms too, going so far as to plant a kiss on his shocked face.

  For a second, the three of us froze, even Arjan, but the kiss was lost in the chaos when Telu, as small as she was, somehow wrapped herself around all of us—including Eton, who nearly crushed my ribs with one of his own hugs. And then we were laughing and shouting and jumping up and down.

  At first, Nev stood off to the side, but then Telu seized his wrist and yanked him between the two of us. We both stiffened for a second, but then his silver gaze locked onto mine again, and both of his arms enveloped me, and behind me, Arjan. In the tangle of limbs, Nev’s hip pressed against mine, and one of his hands found the small of my back. I closed my eyes as everyone whooped and jostled, and let their euphoria wash over me. My family. And Nev.

  I’d sworn I’d never touch him again, but, well, that was before we’d all almost been, in his wry words, captured, tortured, and maybe explosively dismembered.

  Another laugh flew out of me, and I tossed an arm around his shoulder, the other still around Arjan.

  This. This was what I would do anything to protect. This was why I was risking everything to go to Dracorva. And if the man standing next to me, a certain Nevarian Dracorte, had something to do with it, in more ways than one…so be it.

  Several days of smooth, faster-than-light flying later, the Belarius Drive deactivated itself at the coordinates Nev had supplied, and I got my first view of Luvos. It took my breath away. Bright greens and blues twined the surface of the planet—sparkling oceans and lush landmasses—and even from here I could see the lines of white and gray, fractaling out like frost in discernible but complex patterns.

  “Cities,” Nev said next to me, his eyes alight with the excitement of being home. Unfathomably massive cities, he meant, but ones that looked incredibly organized and beautiful even from space. He pointed. “There’s Dracorva…”

  And then we saw the line of destroyers. They took my breath away too, if not in the same way. It didn’t help that they were all of Treznor make. The Dracortes couldn’t help it, I supposed, since they were resource barons, not war-machine-manufacturing barons. Treznor made the best, and of course the Dracortes would have the best.

  It still wasn’t a pleasant sight.

  “Quite the welcome wagon,” Telu said, sounding nervous. I couldn’t blame her. “I knew they’d be expecting us, Nev, but what exactly did you tell them?”

  Nev had commed home and let them know he would be arriving with me on the Kaitan, isolating himself for a couple of hours to talk to his father and uncle. I was amazed the ship’s QUIN still functioned—I hadn’t exactly been talking to anyone across the system recently, and I doubted my father ever had. It was eerie to hear the smooth voice of the AI program help direct Nev’s comm, or maybe it was just strange to know a vessel so well and to have never heard it speak. Nev hadn’t used it before because he said he’d needed to keep a low profile—hah—and to do all this on his own because of the Dracorte Flight thing, which sounded absurd…though, as a Shadow fishing captain, I wasn’t one to scoff at crazy family traditions.

  I nonetheless hadn’t been able to resist raising an eyebrow. “So, let me get this straight. I’m like some prize you’re bringing back to your family to prove your manhood?”

  It was my first time seeing Nev blush. Then
he’d lapsed into “formal” speak. “Not at all. Forming diplomatic relations with you as a representative of your planet and hopefully advancing our ability to use Shadow is the accomplishment with which I will present my family and complete my Flight. And it’s not about manhood—I’m already of age, for systems’ sake—but about becoming a functioning member of the family and proving I’m ready to…um, inherit.”

  “Well, whatever,” I’d said, not wanting to interrogate him further if it was an awkward topic. “It still would have been nice to have some of your family’s destroyers helping us out.”

  I hadn’t been sure of that even as I’d said it—how in the systems could I want more destroyers in my life?—and I was definitely reconsidering now. Maybe it would have been better if he hadn’t alerted his family ahead of time…if we had just slipped in instead.

  Because now the destroyers were hovering around us, flanking us in a flight pattern that I couldn’t help but read as threatening rather than protective.

  Nev seemed to agree, because he pushed the inter-ship comm button without asking my permission. “This is Prince Nevarian Thelarus Axandar Rubion Dracorte.” I blinked at his full name, at the raw power in his voice. I imagined we all did, even though I couldn’t see everyone, especially not over in the destroyers. “That isn’t an offensive formation I’m detecting, is it? Because I find offensive formations rather…offensive.”

  A cool but slightly strained female voice came back. “No, my prince. This is on my king’s orders. We were to first confirm your biometric signal, which we have, and now we’re to escort the Kaitan Heritage directly to a holding bay in Containment Block Three—”

  Nev’s eyes narrowed. “Did my father say I couldn’t countermand his order with a direct one of my own?”

  “No, my prince.”

  “Then take us directly to my family’s private docking bay in the citadel. Immediately.” His tone left no room for argument whatsoever.

  The woman didn’t argue.

  The destroyers still escorted us through Luvos’s atmosphere as if we had no choice in the matter. Not even a closer view of the planet’s intriguing surface could shake my uneasiness. In fact, it increased it. My hand clenched the controls in a fist. What were we doing here? Nev belonged here, of course, but not me.

  Nev touched my shoulder, and I almost jumped. “It will be all right, I promise. Nothing bad is going to happen to you here. You’re safe.”

  His voice was reassuring, but even his words put me less at ease. It was for an absurd reason, but part of me still thought he shouldn’t have had to repeat himself so much. I swallowed and refocused on flying, tailing a lead starfighter to our destination.

  Dracorva itself, though, rising out of a green, forested plain, did take my mind off just about everything else for a moment. I’d never seen a city so beautiful.

  White spires stretched into the blue beyond like a forest of pale winter trees, or endless inverted icicles. And then I got closer and realized I didn’t really have the means to describe them. The towers weren’t natural or haphazard. Intricate patterns carved and decorated their entire lengths, and elegant skyways arched between them. Like lace, came the thought, though I’d seen the material only a few times outside of an infopad. Even the glittering river that ran through the towers was too symmetrical, with bridges cascading over its width. Or maybe there was something in nature so beautiful: a snowflake perched on the tip of my finger before it melted, standing like a miniature palace of ice. But this city wasn’t nearly so impermanent or, of course, miniature. From this altitude, the white swept as far as my eye could see, and it looked as if it had stood, and would stand, forever.

  So this was the capital city of the people who had hollowed out my planet? For a split second, I wouldn’t have minded watching it all burn.

  “Home.” Nev breathed the word next to me, his hands on the dash as he stared out the viewport. I joltingly remembered that this was his city too. I couldn’t imagine calling such a place a home, but he turned to me and said, “You’re going to love it.”

  “Tell me some of your favorite things about it,” I said in a choked voice. Maybe if I saw it through his eyes, it would look less intimidating, less outrageous. He could be my bridge to this place. Preferable a bridge less frilly and impractical than the one I’d just flown over.

  He smiled almost wistfully. “The architecture. It expresses the traditions and values that have likewise stood for centuries, especially in our palaces, temples, academies…our bridges.”

  My grip on the controls only tightened.

  He glanced at me, as if realizing that I certainly didn’t see any of our “architecture,” such that it was on Alaxak, that way. “We also value nature for its inherent value to society, unlike others who might only see it for how they can profit from it. Parts of Luvos are protected, untouched. Those are some of my favorite places on the planet.”

  Funny, coming from the family that owned the mining drones. And our nature on Alaxak usually tried to kill us while we tried to scrape a living from it. Not that I didn’t value it for its sort of savage beauty, but still, my hands squeezed the throttle as if they wanted to strangle something.

  His eyes grew distant. “Most of all, I love the joy, the laughter. People here have hope, express it, and work toward it for others.”

  Having hope was probably pretty easy when you were filthy rich. The sight of Dracorva made it even harder to cling to my hope that these people could somehow save the ragged remains of both my family and my planet. Nevertheless, that hope was the only thing that kept me flying forward.

  My doubts weren’t alleviated in the slightest by the time we approached a denser cluster of spires that stood taller and grander than any other. They rose from the side of a mountain at the far edge of the city, the first in a range that stretched into the distance. I didn’t need to be a genius to guess that this was the Dracorte citadel.

  Which meant it was even more Nev’s home than the city, as if it were a blasted house like any other.

  “And we even made it in time for the conference tomorrow.” He sighed in evident relief.

  The conference, with many people in attendance. So many, so rich, and so important…so many people who would want to use me.

  “What am I doing here?” I asked before I could stop myself. “This isn’t…” I realized I was breathing faster and faster. “This isn’t me.”

  He looked at me in mild alarm, which vanished under a confident expression that unrolled across his face like a royal carpet. “You’ll be treated like family, I promise.”

  “But…” I wasn’t sure I wanted to be, if it meant a place like this would be my home too, if only temporarily. I didn’t say that, because I didn’t want to spit at his offer.

  Not saying it didn’t change the fact that people weren’t—or at least, I wasn’t—supposed to live like this. Not when most of the people on other planets in the systems lived the way they did, in the dust and ice and mud.

  But there was no going back now. I highly doubted the destroyers would let me turn around, especially not with their prince still on board. And maybe not even without him.

  Do it for Arjan, for Telu, for Alaxak…

  We docked alongside one of the towers, in a bay that was more of a warren of bays on different levels. It sheltered more jets and ships than I’d ever seen together in one place, and in every sleek shape, size, and color. And this was just his family’s private collection. I distantly, half deliriously, wondered how many of them were Nev’s.

  Inhaling deeply, I tried to get my breathing under control while I set us down. I was beginning to feel light-headed.

  “Qole?” Nev asked, lowering his voice to the gentle tone someone would use to coax an animal out of its burrow. I realized I’d squeezed my eyes shut as soon as we’d landed. I kept them closed as he continued. “Can you drop the ramp? There’s a contingent waiting, and I—we—need to go meet them.”

  A contingent? “Can I just stay
here a second?” I asked through a clenched jaw.

  He half laughed, cutting off when he realized I was serious.

  Someone took my hand, sliding it away from the controls and placing it firmly in their own. My eyes snapped open, and I stared at Nev’s hand in mine.

  He was holding my hand. And he wasn’t letting it go. It made me no less light-headed—if anything, my heart pounded even faster—but at least I was less scared of a stupid citadel and any contingents it might throw at me. Nev had fought for me before, and he wasn’t abandoning me now, even though I didn’t feel good enough to set foot in his home—either worthy enough or like it was right.

  “Come on,” he said, and gave me a gentle tug.

  I let him pull me out of my chair. His hand stayed around mine as we wound down the stairs from the bridge. When I passed by the others, I tried to pull away, but Nev held on tighter. Maybe he was trying to say he was sorry for dropping my hand before. Or maybe he thought I would try to run. In any case, Eton looked like he’d swallowed a sour rock, but Arjan smiled faintly at me as he stood next to Basra, who was as expressionless as usual. It occurred to me that I’d hardly seen or heard from Basra since leaving Nirmana. He’d said he’d been “buying things,” and I wondered if that was his way of alleviating stress about what was coming.

  Telu was flat-out grinning. “Did you see that view? Can we come with you?” she asked excitedly.

  Dazed, it took me longer than it should have to gather myself enough to say, “Maybe you should stay on the ship. Eton, stand guard. Basra, monitor any comms, and Telu—”

  “Arjan and Telu should join us, at least, as fellow representatives of Alaxak,” Nev said. It was more a declaration than a suggestion, and a brief flash of anger cleared my head even more.

  “Telu stays.” I rode over them when both he and she opened their mouths to object. “No, I trust you, Nev, but no. Tell no one that Telu is a native of Alaxak until we know more about the kind of attention we’ll receive.” It was too late for me and Arjan, since Nev had already told his family about us—and especially since I had a bounty on my head—but at least I could protect Telu’s privacy a little longer. “Can you give a command, or whatever, that my crew can stay on the ship and should be left alone?” I waited until he nodded before turning to Telu. “I want you to keep out of sight as much as possible. Only Arjan and I will go until we know more about what we’re getting into.”