Black Star Renegades

by Michael Moreci

  “Well, I, for one, find it interesting,” 4-Qel said, and while Cade knew the drone couldn’t be anything but genuine, he couldn’t help but feel he was being condescended to. “The magical weapon communicates with you. If I may ask, why does it believe this is the place we should travel to?”

  Cade shrugged. “Beats me. All I know is that when the Rokura feels like it, which isn’t often, it kinda … helps me out. And right now, for whatever reason, it wants me to go there.”

  Mig held out his hand, letting everyone know he was going to talk, but he tripped over his words every time he tried to do so. His brain wasn’t made to handle amorphous things like the Rokura; it functioned on quantifiable data, things he could predict, prove, and process.

  “So, this thing … it talks to you?” Mig finally asked.

  “More or less.”

  Mig stared at Cade and nodded, almost like he was understanding or, at least, accepting Cade’s version of reality. But then he said, “Can we go over the first plan again?”

  * * *

  There wasn’t much to discuss. Sneaking by the blockade and into an uncertain—and likely volatile—situation on the ground was an option for when they had no other options. Technically, Cade’s play to follow the Rokura was an option. It wasn’t a good one, but at least the odds of them getting killed, or captured and delivered to Ga Halle, weren’t as great. Or, at least that’s what Cade thought. On one hand, the Rokura had saved his life, so maybe it was on Cade’s side. But on the other hand—well, Cade’s other hand was fake, because the Rokura had incinerated his real one. So, there was that.

  4-Qel set a course that brought the Rubicon around Mithlador on a low enough trajectory to keep them below Praxis’s radar capabilities. As expected, when Kira brought the ship out of orbit and toward the surface, they caught nothing but an eyeful of trees on the surface below. Trees, trees, and more trees.

  “Well?” Kira asked. “Should we take a page from your playbook and just smash into the surface?”

  “Funny,” Cade replied, though he really didn’t find it that funny. There was a real possibility it might come down to that. He was hanging over the back of her chair, scanning the area for anything—a break in the trees, a sign of habitation, anything. But the land below, stretching all the way to the horizon line, was pretty much one giant tree.

  “I may have something,” 4-Qel said as he worked the Rubicon’s control panel. “Starboard side—the scanners read what appears to be a point where the terrain changes character. There is no telling what it is with this instrumentation alone. A visual is required.”

  Kira turned the stick to the right, following the scan’s directions.

  “I’ve mentioned how I think we’re heading into a trap, right?” Kira asked. She kept the Rubicon moving ahead at a slow, steady clip, flying just above the tree line to avoid detection as much as that was possible. It didn’t matter how good Kira, or any pilot, was; they were flying a giant, loud object through space, and anyone could easily notice it with their eyeballs alone.

  “The opening is just ahead,” 4-Qel announced. “Right up … there.”

  All eyes were glued on the terrain. As quickly as the area 4-Qel led them to revealed a break in the trees, it become clear that what was approaching below them wasn’t an opening—it was the beginning of a chasm, a massive canyon that stretched so wide Cade couldn’t even see where the trees regrouped on either side. It had to have been thousands of feet across. And there was no telling where it ended.

  “What happened here?” Cade said, drawing closer to the front of the cockpit to get a clearer look.

  Kira brought the Rubicon to a steady cruising speed and took them over land that was devoured by a graveyard of trees. Cade could hardly see the ground beneath the felled trees, all of them shattered and decimated. And they weren’t chopped down, no. These things had been torn from the surface, and that required tremendous force; the roots were ripped from the ground, upsetting mounds of dirt at the same time. With the trees creating a blanket over the ground, the grass, blocked from its star’s nurturing light, had withered and turned brown. Whatever caused this break in the trees left a path of mass destruction in its wake. Enormous and incomprehensible.

  “Man, somebody knows how to cause some damage,” Mig commented. “What could have done this?”

  “I have no clue,” Cade said. “And I’m a little worried about finding out.”

  Kira continued their trajectory until, in the distance, a long, oblong black shape came into view. Beyond it, the tree line resumed. They inched closer and closer, and the object continued to grow bigger and take definitive shape. Cade stepped forward, to the very front of the cockpit. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

  “That can’t be,” he said, though he knew it was.

  “What?” Mig asked, curious like a little kid. “What is it?”

  Cade turned to face his team. “It’s a Praxis warship.”

  Cade stepped back to join everyone else, but he kept his eyes on the massive ship the entire time. Everyone’s eyes, in fact, were glued ahead.

  “Trap,” Kira said as the Rubicon got close enough to encompass nearly the entirety of her ship’s exterior. “Trap. Trap. Trap.”

  “No, look at that thing,” Cade said, studying the warship. “It isn’t parked. It’s downed.”

  Though there was no billowing smoke or raging fire coming from the warship, Cade could see that serious damage had been inflicted. Gaping holes—most definitely from explosions, possibly from the inside out—riddled the exterior, at least as much of it as Cade could see. And yet, despite the physical evidence staring him in the face, Cade couldn’t imagine how anyone could bring down a warship. It would take a large group of people—a large group of people with a death wish, that is—who would need to infiltrate the ship and execute a coordinated attack that pinpointed essential functions, including the engine. Which—and Cade was just guessing here—was probably heavily guarded. If someone would have told Cade that this is what he’d find on Mithlador, he would have laughed in their face; the idea of pulling off such an operation was inconceivable, but there the warship was, beaten, blown up, and smashed into the ground.

  “That is amazing,” Mig said, stealing the words right out of Cade’s mouth.

  Kira brought the Rubicon down near the warship’s centrally located command deck. As the ship came to rest just a few feet from the warship, it seemed like a grain of sand set against an ocean. And just like an ocean’s temperamental tide, the fury of the Praxis kingdom could swallow Cade and his band of misfits at any point. The physical presence of Praxis, on such a grand scale, reminded Cade of the enormity he was up against—a galaxy-spanning kingdom with limitless resources and a penchant for enforcing their will through the cruelest means possible. Still, despite the fear, despite the odds, someone had taken down this Praxis ship. When Cade departed the Rubicon, he was looking at the warship’s underside, which had taken a beating during its crash landing. This, Cade started to think, was how a resistance was started.

  “So,” Kira said, breaking everyone’s awed silence at the sight of the warship, “where we heading?”

  Cade looked around. Besides the warship parked in front of them, and the improvised landing strip that led to it, they were still surrounded by nothing but forest. Where to head seemed almost like a banality, unless Kira had it in mind to—

  “The Rokura led us here, to this warship. I’m assuming it only makes sense that we go in and explore. Right?” she asked.

  “Ummm … what?” Mig said with a shiver in his voice.

  “Oh, come on,” Kira replied. “The ship’s dead. It’s done. I mean, what else are we going to do here?”

  “Sure, sure, it’s downed,” Mig said. “But it could still be stocked with sentry drones ready to defend it. Or it could be rigged with security explosives. Or poison gas. There’s any number of creative and horrifying ways going into that ship can kill us all.”

  As Mig and Kira
argued, Cade drifted off to the warship’s starboard side, to the line of trees that resumed the seemingly endless forest. He closed his eyes and drifted into a meditative state. The world around him became sharper, and through this clarity he could feel his surroundings. The Rokura had compelled him to the place, but it was more than that. Cade heard something. Whispers. Murmurs. It was like voices on the wind, just soft and muffled enough to be unintelligible. But they were there, and they were coming from the forest.

  “Cade.”

  He felt the pull of the Rokura again, identical to the experience he had on the Rubicon. It wanted Cade to show strength, to act with power. Sinister tidings, Cade sensed, laced the weapon’s urgings, and he feared what he would become if he molded himself to the Rokura’s designs. Although maybe that was already happening. Maybe the Rokura led him to this place to satisfy its own plans, not Cade’s. Maybe Cade was its pawn, and whatever waited for him in the forest—the whispers that carried his name—was a test to see how far Cade would go.

  “Cade.”

  An alloy grasped Cade’s shoulder, cold enough to feel through his shawl, and he leapt at the touch.

  “What!” Cade barked.

  “We’ve been calling you, Cade,” 4-Qel replied as he slowly and cautiously removed his hand from Cade’s shoulder. “You weren’t responding.”

  “I—” Cade said, but he couldn’t break his reverie, induced by the Rokura, enough to respond. Cade shook his head, breaking away shadows that were obscuring his mind, and drew his focus back to the here and now. “I didn’t hear you, I was … thinking about something else.”

  Everyone stared at Cade, mixtures of expectancy and uneasy curiosity painted on their faces. They wanted to know either what was happening with Cade or what they should do next. Having no idea how to explain the former, Cade addressed the latter.

  “We need to go into the forest, this way,” Cade said, gesturing to the direction of the whispers. “There’s something out there, and that’s where the Rokura is leading us.”

  “Something like what?” Mig asked, sticking close to 4-Qel’s side.

  “I don’t know, and I have no clue why this is where we’re supposed to go. But the Rokura has led us this far, so I don’t see how we have any choice other than to see this through to the end.”

  The group was silent. There was an obvious lack of enthusiasm about trudging into unknown woods—and with dusk settling on this sliver of the planet, no less. Cade feared that they’d overrule him, forcing him to pursue the Rokura’s path on his own.

  But then Kira reminded him of the pact they’d made on Kyysring: The lives they knew at the Well were over, and that meant no one got left behind.

  “You heard him, Mig. Same goes for you, Four-Qel,” Kira said, deploying her easy commander tone. “Enough wasting time. Let’s get supplies from my ship and start moving.”

  Mig and 4-Qel, who probably never heard an order in their lives that they actually liked—especially Mig—got right in line and marched ahead of Kira’s commands. Cade smiled as she trotted by, and she stopped in front of him and smiled back—right before she grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him close, knocking the goofy grin right off his face.

  “I’m entertaining this journey for the time being, but you know what I came to this planet for,” she said. “I’m not leaving without it.”

  Cade nodded. For once, he didn’t have an argument. He knew what this meant for Kira and what she’d sacrificed to get this far. “I know. And we won’t,” Cade said. “I promise.”

  “Good,” Kira said. Her smile returned as she smoothed out the swath of Cade’s clothes that she’d wrinkled in her grasp. “Then we have no problem.”

  Cade watched Kira walk toward her ship, then he turned his attention toward the forest. He gazed into it, and he couldn’t stop himself from anxiously wondering what in the galaxy the Rokura was getting him into.

  * * *

  Cade led Kira, Mig, and 4-Qel through the Mithlador forest, allowing his instincts, informed by the Rokura, to guide him. Fading dusk light fractured through the trees, and Cade was reminded of the rot and decay of Quarry. Here on Mithlador, the ground was alive, crowded with thick grass and plants more colorful and varied than Cade could have ever imagined. The forest’s peace lulled him into tranquility, and for a moment, Cade felt like he was passing through Mithlador as if in a dream. He looked up and reveled at the vertiginous swirl of leaves cascading to the ground as a burst of wind passed through; he caught a tumbling leaf in his hand and studied its indigo blade and the golden veins that coursed all the way to its triangular tip. More wind swirled, and the leaf fluttered from his hand, slowly making its descent to the ground. Cade felt a sudden rush of sadness as he was struck by the impermanence of things; the emotional wave took him by surprise, and he had to fight back the invasive thoughts that were creeping into his mind, thoughts about his mom, thoughts about his dad, and thoughts, most particularly, about Tristan. They too had tumbled out of his grasp without notice or warning, and Cade made a silent vow committing himself to the safety of his friends. There was no risk he wouldn’t take, no cost he wouldn’t pay, to keep them safe.

  As he walked, Cade sensed footsteps approaching behind him; he looked over his shoulder, and there was Mig, striding up to his side.

  “Hey,” Mig said as he and Cade walked shoulder to shoulder. Cade nodded his head in response.

  “I just wanted to see, you know … how you’re doing,” Mig said after a brief silence. “I was wondering if you’re hanging in there, considering.”

  “Well,” Cade said, drawing a deep breath, “I generally feel overwhelmed with grief when I think about Tristan, or I’m overwhelmed with fear when I think about the Rokura. So, yeah. It’s a real win-win for me right now.”

  “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry, Cade,” Mig said as he shoved his hands into his pockets and kicked a rock out of his path.

  “The way I told you about what happened—that was a really cold way to do it,” Cade said. “What happened to Tristan is just as tough on you as it is on me, and you should have been told more delicately. I messed up, and I’m sorry.”

  Mig shrugged it off but didn’t say anything in response. Cade knew his friend, and his silence said everything that Mig couldn’t articulate. He was hurt, but, like Cade, being emotionally candid wasn’t his greatest strength. In fact, they were both stunted adolescents and would sooner toss themselves into a jaka-beast pit rather than discuss their feelings.

  “Hey, did you ever know about the time Tristan stole your dad’s dasher bike?” Mig asked.

  Cade scoffed. “Tristan? Stole something? No, you never told me that, because it never happened.”

  “I swear,” Mig said with a laugh, “it totally happened. I mean, it was at my urging, but he still did it.”

  “Where was I?”

  “Gone, with your folks on one of their missions, and Tristan stayed behind because he was sick. While you guys were away, the Galactic Alliance stopped over on Kyysring because they were having some engine problems with their new Aquarius-class naval cruiser. I was, like, enamored with that ship. It had dual-accelerator thrusters and an acceleration gyroscope that—”

  “Yeah, those gyroscopes are badass,” Cade said with a sardonic grin.

  “I’m into engineering, okay?” Mig said. “Anyway, I heard the ship was about to leave, and I had to see it take off, so I begged and begged Tristan to get me there. And even though he was sick, even though stealing something caused him physical pain, he did it. He took me to see that ship blast off, and I’ll never forget it. To me, that’s, like, quintessential Tristan.”

  “He’d do anything for the people he loved,” Cade said, trying to stay as even as possible. “I mean, he’d do anything for just about anyone.”

  Mig nodded and exhaled sharply. “Look, everything I said and did earlier—that was wrong, and I don’t know, I just wish I hadn’t.…”

  Cade patted his friend on the shoulder, relieving h
im of his agony.

  “We’re cool, man,” Cade said. “We’re cool.”

  “Geez,” Kira said, closing in on them from behind. “Why don’t you two write each other a poem and just get it over with.”

  “That is humorous,” 4-Qel said, his tone implying he was surprised to have caught Kira’s wit. “Writing poetry indicates you are sensitive, and sensitivity is often associated with weakness. Although…” 4-Qel paused, contemplating. “I already know you’re weak humans, as I can crush either one of you in an instant.”

  “Thanks for the reminder, Four-Qel,” Mig said as he, Kira, and 4-Qel fell back in line a few paces behind Cade.

  “I suppose the remark wasn’t as funny as I initially thought,” 4-Qel said.

  Apart once again, Cade’s focus returned to his surroundings. As he pressed forward, he started to detect a shift in the atmosphere, though he struggled to decipher what it meant. The feeling grew stronger with each step he took until he stopped dead in his tracks. He grabbed the Rokura and held it close, compelled to guard it. Cade scanned the area around him; he didn’t see or hear anything. But, still, he knew.

  Someone was coming.

  Cade moved carefully, tightening his grip on the Rokura. From behind, Mig started to say something, but Cade silenced him with a quick flash of his hand, signaling Mig to be quiet and stay where he was. Whoever was out there was drawing near, but Cade couldn’t pinpoint where he was sensing a presence from. The trees were clustered everywhere, and that made it impossible to single out a strategic place for someone to lay and wait, and it also made it impossible for Cade to pinpoint an expedient path for a retreat, should it come to that. They were all stuck exactly where they were.

  Still, Cade assumed he’d hear something—the rustle of leaves, a whisper on the wind. But the Mithlador forest proved to be as silent as the grave.

  Until it wasn’t.

  First came the bone-smashing sound of a blunt object hammering Cade’s back. Pain burst from the point of impact, shooting out from Cade’s spine to every part of his body. Someone struck him with such force—and precision—that his body tumbled uncontrollably forward and, after a few clumsy steps, Cade fell facedown in a pile of dirt and leaves. Cade rolled off the ground, scooping the dirt out of his eyes as he went, and by the time he was back on his feet and ready to fight, there was no one around except for Kira, Mig, and 4-Qel. They’d drawn their weapons and were searching for Cade’s attacker, but Cade knew that this moment was about him and the Rokura.