And realizing that, he knew exactly what to do.
“There’s nothing special about you,” Ga Halle taunted. “Nothing that you’re willing to do that I can’t do ten times better.”
“Wrong again, Ga Halle,” Cade pronounced. “There’s something I’m willing to do that you’re not. Something that proves my will over yours.”
Ga Halle was close enough for Cade to look into her cold, steely eyes; he was glad to be able to do so as he played his winning move.
“I’m willing to die for this power.”
And with that, the Rokura snapped back into Cade’s grip, and he slammed it down on the orb.
There was a brief sound of a thunderous explosion, unlike anything Cade had ever heard before. Then, following on the heels of the explosion, Cade’s world went completely white.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“Cade? Cade, can you hear me?”
Slowly, and not easily, Cade opened his eyes. He was dead. He didn’t feel dead, but there was no way he was anything but. Kira, Mig, and 4-Qel were all crouching above him, and beyond them, the wonderful, endless, darkness of space seen through the Rubicon’s viewport.
“I was hoping the afterlife was going to be a lot cooler than Kira’s ship,” Cade mumbled.
“First of all, there’s nothing cooler than my ship,” Kira said. “And second, you’re not dead.”
Cade looked at Kira, then Mig, then 4-Qel. They each appeared to corroborate this story. Cade was alive.
He groaned. “Terrific.”
“What happened?” Mig asked. “From where we were, man, that looked like some madness that went down on the War Hammer.”
Cade tried to get up, but his spinning head and his aching body sent him right back to the floor. Slowly, his friends propped him into a sitting position against a wall of the Rubicon.
“I remember…” Cade said, thinking back on what had happened. There was the struggle with the Rokura; there was the moment where he took control of the weapon and jammed it into the orb; then there was an enormous sound and he was swallowed by light. After that point, things became hazy in Cade’s mind. He remembered feeling a warm glow surrounding him; he remembered feeling sheltered by it as he drifted off into space. But after that, nothing.
He conveyed this to his friends, who were skeptical, to say the least.
“Riiiiiight,” Mig said.
“Well, what did you see?” Cade asked. “And how did I end up here?”
“When we escaped the War Hammer, we met with Kira and boarded her ship, leaving yours behind,” 4-Qel said.
“You abandoned my ship?” Cade asked, wounded.
“Cade, it’s garbage. Get over it,” Mig said.
“We left it as a decoy in case Praxis came looking for us. It was something that could buy us time as we waited for you,” 4-Qel said.
“We parked outside the War Hammer,” Kira added. “We thought you might try to get in touch with us in case you needed to get out of there.”
“We couldn’t leave you,” Mig said. “Not when there was still a chance you could get out of there alive.”
Cade looked at his friend, and he knew he meant what he said. Mig would have stayed there—they all would have—until they couldn’t stay anymore.
“I still don’t get how I ended up here,” Cade said.
“Well, the War Hammer was blowing the eff up,” Mig said. “Kind of.”
Kira rolled her eyes. “There was an explosion, this … surge of light that burst through the War Hammer’s hull. It tore right through the ship, and we figured you had to be close. So, against 4-Qel’s wishes, we went looking for you and—”
“I only remarked that the rest of the War Hammer was sure to explode in sequence after this initial blast, taking everything in its proximity along with it,” 4-Qel retorted. “But, a sequence of locks must have been in place, keeping the War Hammer together long enough for those on board to escape.”
“Don’t sweat it, Four-Qel,” Cade said as he patted the drone on his arm. “I wouldn’t have you any other way.”
“Anyway,” Kira continued, “we decided to make a pass. And it’s a good thing we did because just as we were flying by, you came right out of the hole created by the blast. It was like you were floating, but you were guided in the right direction as well. It was … weird.”
“The Rokura,” Cade said. “It—”
Cade sprang up, feeling alarm punch in his chest. “The Rokura,” he repeated. “Tell me it’s here; tell me you have it.”
“It’s right next to you,” Mig nodded.
Cade’s eyes darted to the floor, and there it was. A sigh of relief vacated his body. Thinking back, he remembered more of what happened after penetrating the orb. There was the flash of light, but instead of being immolated and shredded by the energy that poured out of the orb, he felt warmth. Comforting warmth. It was the Rokura. Protecting him, keeping him safe. A protective cocoon sheathed his entire body, and Cade had in his mind a clear vision of floating off into space as mass destruction unfolded all around him. But there was something else. Ga Halle was there, too. Protected like he was. Apparently, the Rokura wasn’t going to let anything as silly as an exploding star kill its best two candidates to become its wielder.
Cade may have won this encounter, but the Rokura still wasn’t convinced of his, or Ga Halle’s, worthiness.
A victory was still a victory, though. At least Cade had kept the Rokura out of the hands of Ga Halle, who was even more dangerous and demented than he’d imagined. If he hadn’t been convinced she was a stark raving lunatic before meeting her, he certainly was now. While Cade didn’t feel all that thrilled about the onus of possessing the Rokura, he could at least find solace that whatever his shortcomings were, they’d always be better than whatever a psychopath brought to the table.
Cade accepted 4-Qel’s hand and stood up. The disorientation was wearing off, as was the soreness that had been throbbing his body from head to toe. He felt strangely replenished.
“So, wait—what happened to the War Hammer, then?”
Kira, Mig, and 4-Qel shared a look, and then they all smiled.
“See for yourself,” Kira said, directing Cade to the viewport.
For a second, Cade thought he was looking at a small asteroid field. But he realized it wasn’t chunks of rock dotting the space just off the Rubicon’s port side—it was metal. Shards and slabs and wedges of metal, thousands upon thousands of pieces, scattered so far in every direction that Cade couldn’t even see where the floating scrap heap ended. This was the War Hammer, literally blown to bits and soon to be spread throughout the galaxy. Praxis’s prized weapon had been defeated. The kingdom was proven to be vulnerable.
“I can’t believe it,” Cade said, astounded. “We actually did it.”
No one said a word. Cade, Kira, Mig, and 4-Qel stood at the Rubicon’s viewport, simply enjoying the view.
It was Cade, after a long, peaceful, and satisfying moment, who broke the silence.
“Well … what now?” he asked.
Kira shrugged. “That depends on you.”
Cade cocked a curious eyebrow at Kira, then looked to Mig and 4-Qel for answers.
“Hey, don’t look at me,” Kira said. “These blasterheads certainly don’t follow my command.”
When Cade turned, Kira was standing at the control panel, calling up her radar.
“We have fourteen Omega Echoes and Percival’s squad of ten Boxer fighters—relics from the Quarrian War—and pretty cool, I might add.”
“Why are they here?” Cade asked, confused. “Why haven’t they gone into hiding or … wherever it is that Percival goes?”
“They’re waiting for the Paragon’s instructions,” Kira said. “They’re waiting for your command.”
Cade opened his mouth to speak but couldn’t find the words. He knew, after all this, he couldn’t come clean about the presumption he was the Paragon. These people had fought for him; some had even died for him. And whi
le Cade knew he was no Paragon, he was at least closer than anyone else alive to claiming the mantle. Besides, the war was on. There was no turning back now.
But before he could step into the command, the Rubicon’s comms blared. Kira groaned.
“It’s Teeg,” she said. “The Well has been trying to get through for the past hour.”
Kira was about to cut off the transmission, but Cade stopped her.
“No, patch him through, but just voice. Let’s hear what he has to say.”
Kira gave an acquiescent shrug and opened the line to Ticus. After a crackle and some static feedback, Teeg’s voice entered the ship.
“Cade Soora, we have no idea how you did it, but you saved the Well. You saved all of Ticus.”
“You’re welcome,” Cade said, punctuating his response to the gratitude that hadn’t been delivered.
“May I remind you, though, that your actions were unsanctioned by the Well, that you’ve been acting as a renegade. We are still the preeminent peacekeeping body in the galaxy, and we expect you to act—”
“Nope,” Cade interrupted. “No to everything you just said. You want to call yourselves the galaxy’s peacekeeping body? Then start acting like it.”
“I…” Teeg stumbled. “Excuse me?”
“We might have hit Praxis where it hurts, but they’re going to regroup. I suggest you use that time wisely. Use it to get better, get focused on what’s important, and prove to me that you’re willing to fight a war. Because that’s what this is, Teeg. War.”
There was a pause, though Cade could hear the murmurs as Teeg and whatever other Masters surrounded him conferred over what to do. For the first time in a long time, they had no choice but to feel powerless. Which was good, Cade decided. It would help them want to feel strong again.
“And I take it you’re going to leave? You and this band of renegades?”
“I’ll have my eye on you, Teeg. Because we need you. We all need each other. Paragon out.”
Kira shook her head at Cade.
What? Cade mouthed as she cut off the comms connection.
“‘Paragon out’?”
Cade smiled. He knew it was a ridiculous thing to say.
“Well, you heard Teeg,” Cade said, turning to face his team. His friends. “We’re renegades. So let’s make like renegades and upend the ruling order.”
Mig grinned, ear to ear. “Yes, yes, yes.”
“I think I’m going to find many things to enjoy on the road ahead,” 4-Qel added.
Cade looked at Kira, who shrugged noncommittally. “Yeah, I guess it could be all right.” Her nonchalance didn’t last long. It couldn’t. She smiled and hopped into the pilot’s seat while everyone else strapped themselves in.
“But where do we go?” Kira asked.
Cade breathed deeply. He wasn’t certain about his idea, but he was smart enough to realize that it was the only idea he had.
“Let’s get Percival on the line,” Cade said.
Kira reached for the control panel, then hesitated. “You’re not going to tell him to get lost, are you?”
“Not yet,” Cade replied.
Percival’s voice came through the ship, gruff as ever. When he left Mithlador, Cade knew he’d hear it again at some point. He just didn’t think it would be this soon.
“Not bad of a job you did there, Cade. As our terrorist ally, I approve.”
“Don’t make it harder to like you than it already is,” Cade said. “Look, you remember that training-to-become-the-Paragon stuff you were telling me about, right?”
Cade could almost hear him smiling through the comms. “What about it?”
“I think we should get started.”
There was a pause, then Percival’s ship pulled right alongside the Rubicon. Cade rolled his eyes; Percival was indeed smiling. “I know exactly where we need to go,” he said. “Follow me.”
With that, Percival soared ahead until his ship darted into space, disappearing in a streak of light. Coordinates came through the Rubicon’s comms, and Kira punched them into her mass jump drive.
“Well?” Kira asked, looking at Cade for confirmation.
Cade smiled and nodded. “Let’s do it.”
Kira activated the jump drive and, in a flash, they were gone.
TO BE CONTINUED
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Writing a novel is a hell of a thing. As a father of two, I consider the maxim “It takes a village” to be one of the truest things ever said. The same goes for writing a novel. There’s no way this book would exist without the support of a whole bunch of amazing, talented, and patient—and I stress “patient”—people.
First, my editor, Marc Resnick. This whole thing started with Marc calling me up and saying, “You love Star Wars. Write me a love letter to Star Wars.” Granted, I’d been throwing pitches through Marc’s window for years, but it was his simple insight that recognized how much I adored a certain thing and, because of it, that I should harness that adoration into something all my own. That’s exactly how Black Star Renegades began. Marc was with me every step of the way, helping me write a book we both wanted to read. And it gave us an excuse to talk about comics and movies and whatever other nerd junk was on our minds that day.
Jason Yarn—my terrific agent who, more than once, rapped my knuckles with a ruler and pushed me to write better. When I was stuck, Jason illuminated the way with awesome insight and sharp ideas that brought heart and soul to this universe. Jason’s a tenacious agent, and he’s a friend. You’re stuck with me, buddy.
Tracy Flynn and Rone Shavers, my very first readers, told me the things I needed to hear at the right times. Tim Daniel talked me down from the ledge of panic as I tried to figure out how the heck to actually write a novel. My brother, heavens bless him, gave me a quiet place to work. Phil Sevy’s great art helped cement the visuals of these characters in my head. Since we were kids, Sam Kanan has believed in my abilities as a writer—we’ll always have Monster, my man! Duane Swierczynski is the man who brought Marc and I together (and he’s a helluva fine writer, I might add): This book literally wouldn’t exist without you.
All my life, I underachieved at just about everything. All I wanted to do was create. Books, movies, comics—my nose was always buried. And my parents could have whooped my butt into shape, justifiably, at any point, and pushed me into … I don’t know—one of those careers where they do the thing with numbers. But they didn’t. They’ve fostered my passion for as far back as I can remember, and there’s no way I’d be doing this without their understanding and support.
My wife, Alissa, listened to a lot of story ideas. A lot. Many of them weren’t any good. Many of them she made good. She’s been with me through all the frustrations and heartbreak that come with being a writer, and it has not been easy. Her love, faith, and humor have kept me sane, happy, and able to push forward.
My two crazy boys: There’s no one on Earth I’d rather create worlds with. Their imaginations and joy have brought me more exuberance and inspiration that I can even quantify. They’ve made life fun.
Star Wars. I thank George Lucas, Ralph McQuarrie, Lawrence Kasdan, Kathleen Kennedy, John Williams, and all the other people who have created and have had a hand in furthering the stories told in a galaxy far, far away. You’ve read the book; it’s probably pretty evident why I’m paying my respects.
Also, comics! I wouldn’t have caught Marc’s eye if it wasn’t for the comics I made, and I would never have created a single sequential story without Tim Seeley, Steve Seeley, Eric Stephenson, Ross Richie, Bryce Carlson, Harry Markos, Jeff Krelitz, Keith Burns, Cullen Bunn, Jim Campbell, and so many other excellent people.
And, last but not even close to least, thank YOU for reading!
GLOSSARY
CHARACTERS
Cade Sura—Former resident of Kyysring, who, along with his brother, Tristan, was drafted to train at the Well to become a Rai, a defender of peace and justice throughout the galaxy.
Tristan Sur
a—Cade’s older brother and a leader at the Well. Many believe that Tristan is destined to wield the Rokura and bring peace to the galaxy.
Ga Halle—The self-appointed queen of the Praxis kingdom. Although the power of the empire technically resides with the Barons, Ga Halle controls its real might.
Kira Sen—The leader of Omega Squadron, a rogue outfit of Echo pilots within the Well. She’s determined to use her audacious and loyal pilots to fight back against the Praxis kingdom.
Ser Jorken—A Master Rai at the Well, Ser Jorken is not only the man who recruited Cade and Tristan, he’s also Cade’s mentor and father figure.
Mig—Cade and Tristan’s best friend; an engineering genius, con artist, and scoundrel, Mig travels the galaxy running various schemes, gambling, and causing mischief wherever he and his pal 4-Qel go.
4-Qel—Hailing from Eris, 4-Qel is a drone built specifically to protect the royal family. But every line of Qel is decommissioned—i.e., murdered—upon the creation of the subsequent model. Since the Qels are up to model 6-Qel, 4-Qel should have been disposed of, but somehow he escaped.
Percival White—A former Rai who abandoned the Well and is now the leader of the Rising Suns, a group that wages guerrilla warfare against Praxis.
Ortzo—Ga Halle’s lead Fatebreaker, one of the highly trained warriors who serve Ga Halle’s every command, whether it be political assassination, squashing a resistance, or other similar deeds.
Wu-Xia—The fabled warrior who forged the Rokura and used it to bring peace to the galaxy.
PLACES
Aria—One of Ticus’s three moons, Aria is known as an agricultural nexus. It is the only place where kerbis—a valuable herb—grows, and an entire horticulture industry has risen around it.
Boxton—Located far from most mass-jump routes, Boxton is a planetoid covered mainly in swamps and marshes. Natives rarely leave the planet, except for trading at galactic outposts.
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