Vengeance (Warships of the Spire Book 1)

by Lisa Blackwood

  “With all due respect, sir, at my rank, it’s not necessary to clear a transfer with the AI… only a commanding officer or my guild master.”

  Captain Welner sighed and rubbed a palm over his face. “After your stunt with the pirate, what makes you think any warship is going to be willing to let you onboard?”

  “I’ll take my chances, sir.”

  Welner grunted at her and flipped a different screen on. “Well, there are always warships looking for more skilled personnel. But if no one picks you up, you’ve only yourself to blame.”

  “Understood, sir.”

  He glanced up at her with a curious, suspicious look then pulled up her file—the completely fictitious life she’d created for herself to become Olivia Hawthorne. He’d probably be adding, “Slept with Vengeance then changed her mind about the relationship” to her file under reason for transfer request.

  But he never even asked her for a reason. With a few taps at his screen, he submitted her request and told her she’d be dropped off at the next spaceport to await her new assignment.

  They’d arrive in what was essentially a few days, and her short-lived reunion with Ven would be behind her forever.

  She didn’t think avoiding him until then would be difficult, not after ripping out his heart like that.

  If only he knew she’d broken her own as well.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Ven scowled at his door as Renee tapped at it again. With the Trinity-Nine spaceport looming before them and Liv’s departure imminent, he didn’t want to see anyone—not even his best friend.

  When he’d been notified of Liv’s transfer request, he hadn’t protested. After all, he’d pushed her. He’d kissed her. It was his fault she was leaving. When relationships became too intense, AIs often scared away humans—likely because of the near-obsessive attention AIs focused on loved ones.

  Renee knocked again and called through the door this time. “Ven, open the damn door. You can’t keep hiding from me.”

  He briefly considered reaching out to her via their link to assure her he wasn’t trying to hurt her, but doing so would expose just how deeply his pain ran.

  He couldn’t admit that to her—not yet. He couldn’t admit that another woman he’d loved was leaving him, most likely because he wasn’t human. What else could it be? He’d analyzed every moment he’d ever spent with Liv, and aside from her dislike of chess, she’d continued to display an interest in him, so he didn’t think her abuse at the hands of the rogues was what was driving her away from him. But his own feelings must have clouded his judgment because he’d greatly and disastrously miscalculated the nature of her interest.

  Renee sighed heavily and knocked on the door again. “Vengeance, you old ass, open the door!”

  He smiled despite his broken heart and relented, allowing his door to slide into the slat in the wall and admit his link. She put her hands on her hips and fixed him with a stern expression. “So this is it? You’re just going to let her walk onto Trinity-Nine and out of your life because you’re too stubborn to find out why she’s running?”

  “She’s free to make her own decisions,” Ven countered.

  Renee threw her hands up and exclaimed, “She’s young and scared! You don’t know what she’s survived. You’ve made no effort to talk to her and convince her she’s safe here.”

  “But she isn’t!” he exclaimed back. “She doesn’t want me, and that’s exactly what I did: made her feel like she had to get away from me.”

  “Maybe,” Renee agreed. “But not for the reasons you think.”

  “Why have you been so cryptic lately?” Ven asked. Had Liv confided in Renee? And would Renee even tell him if she had? There had been so many lies lately, someone should tell the truth for a change.

  “Because she has to tell you about her past in her own time. It’s not my place to take that away from her.” Renee waved toward the hallway. “Liv hasn’t left the ship yet. You still have time to work this out with her.”

  So Renee had managed to get Liv to share something about her past. And his link was still encouraging him to go after his engineer. That meant there was still hope. But… what else could he offer Liv to make her want to stay? “She doesn’t want to talk to me,” he complained.

  “Ven, she’s running for a reason. Use your big brain and figure it out.”

  “You could save me the trouble and just tell me,” he said.

  “No, I can’t. I promised Liv it would be her choice.” Renee shot him her best “Now stop being such an idiot” look.

  But it didn’t matter. She’d just told the truth even if she hadn’t meant to. He should have told Liv he’d already guessed she was a Nuallan telepath anyway. He had only himself to blame for her panic and decision to leave. “I think I’ve already figured out what in all the universe would make you agree to keep a secret from me.”

  Renee gave him a look that assured him she had no intention of confirming whether he was right.

  “Renee,” he groaned. “And you have the nerve to tell me I’m a stubborn old ass.”

  “You are. If you want the truth, go find Liv before she leaves and beg her to stay.”

  Beg? A warship didn’t beg.

  Renee folded her arms over her chest and lifted an eyebrow at him. “You’ve always trusted me in the past. Trust me now when I say your future happiness is on the line. Go. Find. Liv.”

  “Fine!” he agreed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. Clearly, he wasn’t going to get any peace until he found Liv and talked to her anyway… and it would give him a chance to say goodbye.

  But there would be no begging. Surely, he had some dignity left somewhere.

  He walked past Renee, who put a hand on his arm and offered him one last annoyingly cryptic message. “Just be patient with her. Some things are beyond the understanding of even the great and mighty Vengeance.”

  Ven blinked at her then ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m beginning to think all women are beyond the understanding of the great and mighty Vengeance.”

  Renee let her hand fall and retorted, “It took you over three thousand years to figure that out?”

  “So, apparently, I’m not perfect,” he teased.

  “No. And you’re stalling.”

  “You’re the one who stopped me,” he reminded her.

  “Ven,” she warned.

  “I’m going,” he mumbled and walked out into the hall.

  He quickly searched the ship for Liv’s biomarker. He found her standing in line to the space dock, where one of Trinity-Nine’s administrative drones was overseeing and directing new arrivals. It didn’t take his drone long to reach the line snaking through the corridor toward the exit.

  “Liv,” he called softly from the other side of the barrier. He rested his hands on the smooth curved surface, his fingers digging into it, needing to clasp something so he didn’t betray his nervousness.

  Nervous. He hadn’t been nervous about anything since his first assignment.

  Liv looked up at him, and unfortunately, so did half the crew in line. Damn it. This was an astoundingly bad idea. He cleared his throat and asked, “Liv, may I have a word with you? It’s important. Renee wants me to discuss something with you.”

  Liv’s expression shifted from confusion to fearful in seconds. “I—”

  “It won’t take long, and then you can go about your business,” he assured her.

  Her eyes darted back to the crewmembers in line, but she nodded. “Okay.” She glanced around again until her eyes landed on a small recreational bar behind his drone. “I wouldn’t mind a drink.”

  Ven took a deep breath, realizing she’d suggested the bar because it kept them around other people, but agreed. “All right.”

  Liv was still extracting herself from the other crew in the line when Vengeance’s long-range scanners tagged four inbound ships as possible hostiles. His primary core redirected all resources to study the inbound ships. They were running silent with weapons ready.
He targeted other sensors to that area of space, but he didn’t need a visual to verify birth stamps this time. He knew a threat when he saw one.

  “Rogues,” Ven growled then explained the threat to Liv even as he was initiating hive-sync with Trinity-Nine. “Issue evacuation orders to all citizens and crew aboard the station. There are four rogue battleships on approach. I will hold them off for as long as I can.”

  He left unsaid that four against one weren’t good odds, even for a warship with as much battle experience as him.

  Trinity acknowledged his orders. “I will aid you as much as I can.”

  The station’s weapons were for repelling raiders, pirates, and other unruly factions that might be foolish enough to approach an outpost this close to the edge of Spire territory. However, both AIs were well aware that the station’s weapons wouldn’t stop a warship.

  “Trinity, I’ve seen what these rogues will do. Begin preparations to separate your primary core from the station. Once all civilians and crew are evacuated, move your primary core onto one of the escaping ships. I will send one of my telepaths to protect you from sensory deprivation during transport. If I fall before you can separate from the station, do what you can to aid with the evacuation then prepare to self-terminate. Do not allow yourself to be corrupted by the rogues.”

  “Trinity acknowledges. And Vengeance, thank you for your service.”

  Vengeance dropped out of hive-mind with her as he undocked from the station and continued to ready himself for battle. Four against one. This might be his last battle, but he would see his crew safely into life-pods and transports then drag as many of the rogues into death with him as possible.

  “All crew, report to main battle stations. Danger imminent.” A ship-wide alarm sounded, its deep tone raising goose bumps along Liv’s body. She held perfectly still as her mind raced.

  Ven’s voice boomed across the comm system a second time, confirming what she already feared. “Four rogue battleships approaching. Seven minutes out. I repeat. Proceed to battle stations.”

  Liv’s stomach heaved, and her legs became weak. Rogues. No, not again. The rogues would take all telepaths then kill Ven if he wasn’t able to escape. He had to run, not make a stand. It didn’t matter how much artillery he had in his arsenal. It wouldn’t protect him or his crew from the rogues’ attack.

  He’d been unable to defeat them before, and he’d had help then. Now, he was alone.

  Fear threatened to overwhelm her once again, just as it had in that cave when she’d briefly relived experiences she’d been trying to keep buried for years. Ven didn’t need to name the rogue warships. She already knew one of them would be Basilisk, the leader of the rogues, the most powerful among them, and the AI who’d spent months torturing her as he attempted to force a link between them. Ven’s drone still stood beside her, and she gripped his arm to prevent herself from falling. But what could she possibly say to convince him to leave so she could save his life?

  He’d never run away from a fight, especially with rogue AIs who’d destroyed a planet and murdered innocent people.

  After all, as he’d once told her, he’d taken the name Vengeance for a reason.

  The hull under her feet shook with the slight tremor of Ven’s heavy drives coming on line, and she gripped his arm tighter as those feelings of impending doom chipped away at her ability to think calmly and rationally.

  Ven carefully extracted her fingers from his arm and forced her to look at him. “Olivia, go down to deck thirty-seven and prep a life-pod for escape.”

  “No.” Her fingers slowly closed into fists. So far from the engines, she was useless, and worse, she couldn’t even use her telepathy without exposing herself to Ven. Sweat beaded along the back of her neck and the small of her back and prickled under her arms.

  If I were in engineering, where I belong, I could do something. Pull it together, Liv.

  Like bulk heads sliding home, Liv realized Basilisk had found her, somehow following her across the empty vastness of space. Maybe she’d never really lost him at all.

  “Weapon systems and main drives priming,” Vengeance said, his voice cutting through her chaotic thoughts.

  She steeled herself and told him, “I’m staying and fighting.”

  His drone looked down at her again and begged, “Liv, please. Go get in a life-pod. I’m outnumbered.”

  Liv shook her head. “I need to get to engineering. I can override some of the safeties and cut down the time it takes your main weapons to prime. You need to take them out at a distance, or they’ll kill you and the rest of the crew then take your telepaths for themselves.”

  Ven grabbed her wrist and shook his head. “I’ve already seen to the safeties—my main fusion cannon can’t fire in time to take them out before they’re within firing range of the station. There’s nothing you can do in engineering to change that. If you refuse to get in one of the life-pods, at least stay close to Renee. I’ll protect you both in case we’re boarded.”

  “Fine. But I want weapons because they will try to board for the telepaths.”

  “Acknowledged.”

  Ven didn’t let go of her wrist as he pulled her away from the exit toward the interior of the ship. Three sentinels turned a corner, encircling Renee, whose eyes immediately settled on Ven’s drone. They only managed a few more steps before the ground beneath them shivered then the vibrations shook the ship more violently. These tremors weren’t the result of his engines.

  “Rapid-fire pulse cannons. Shields holding,” Ven announced.

  The vibrations became more random and increased in strength.

  “Returning fire.”

  Liv would have fallen if he hadn’t still been holding her wrist. His grip tightened as his drone helped her regain her footing. Tables and chairs rocked and slid as the ship shuddered from the attack, and a sentinel swatted a stool out of Liv’s path before it could hit her.

  “Ven,” she asked, clenching his tunic to keep herself upright, “do you see hull markings? Can you identify what models are attacking you?”

  She held onto an irrational hope that these ships would be strangers, and this attack had nothing to do with her.

  “Their birth stamps identify them as Basilisk, Warlock, Centurion, and Boudicca,” Ven said. “Trinity-Nine is targeting Centurion, but she’s not equipped to battle warships.”

  “Basilisk,” she whispered.

  Ven shot her another curious look, so she pressed her lips together and vowed not to open them until they got to wherever Ven was leading them. After he took a couple more violent hits, she just concentrated on her lurching steps and trying to stay upright.

  His destination turned out not to be the main bridge, but a secondary command center five levels above. En route, it was easy to feel but hard to picture the space battle outside, but once they were in the satellite command center, the battle became all too real.

  Human officers monitored energy-web interfaces, and Commander Lisk gave orders with his usual calm efficiency even in the heat of battle. “Kilo squad, why are you still in the hangar? Sierra squad, prepare for drop. Tango and Victor will follow them out.”

  “I’ve been unable to reroute power to Kilo squad’s hangar. My drudges are attempting to repair damage,” Ven informed Commander Lisk. “All other fighters, both manned and those under my direct control, have been scrambled.”

  Bright flashes of weapons fire lit up the screens, revealing glimpses of the enemy ships against the darkness of space. Between the retina-searing flashes of light and the resulting hazy momentary blindness, Liv glimpsed what she’d been hoping to spot.

  “Ven!” she exclaimed. “The harpoons—I recognize the design. They’re purely energy converters, non-penetrating. Drop your shield just before the harpoons strike. They’ll continue past and shatter against your hull. They’re not designed to penetrate materials as molecularly dense as your hull skin.”

  Ven nodded and excitedly added, “Thereby allowing me to funnel all resourc
es to my planet killers and cut through an enemy’s shield.”

  “Yes!” She could have kissed him in that moment. Not many AIs or their senior commanders would think to lower shields during an attack. And enemy warships probably wouldn’t be prepared for that development either. “You’ll sustain damage from whatever the other two throw at you, but if you—”

  “Harpoons incoming,” Ven informed his crew, oddly calm despite the battle taking place outside. “Shields down,” he added. Seconds later, two reverberating thuds shook the hull. “Harpoons rendered inoperative.”

  Commander Lisk spun his chair around. “You’re both mad. Raise your shields. There are drillers incoming.”

  “Negative. Journeyman Engineer Hawthorne’s idea is valid.”

  Liv flinched when several pairs of accusing eyes glanced her way before jerking back to the energy-webs. She only knew the commander and one of the other officers, Lieutenant Robin Turner, who shook her head at them then returned her attention to her web.

  However, Commander Lisk’s expression promised a world of trouble for Liv’s future career. She glanced away in time to see a cloud of drillers descending on Ven.

  Maybe Lisk had been right, and he shouldn’t have lowered his shields.

  “Ven?” she said uneasily. The hull shivered under her feet in a continuous wave that couldn’t be weapons fire. Lights dimmed and screens went dark, blanking out one after another until the room was plunged into darkness. Liv’s stomach dropped and her heart raced.

  “Warlock targeted,” Ven said. “Firing main fusion cannons. Continuous ten second burst.”

  Liv exhaled slowly. No wonder he’d blacked out entire sections of the ship. He needed every drop of power he could spare to fire the fusion cannon. It was still the longest ten seconds of her career.

  “Systems normalizing. Fighters intersecting drillers. Shields up. Damage reports incoming,” Ven broadcast.

  As the lights flickered back on, Liv blinked rapidly to clear the gray spots floating in her vision. The energy webs shimmered back to life, weaving lights and colors until the space battle was pictured once more. Basilisk and Boudicca continued to assault Ven’s shields with their laser arrays, cannons, and dark matter bombs, but Warlock—what was left of him—rotated in a slow spin, dead in space as he drifted toward Basilisk’s position. The corpse of the Spire battleship bled energy and fluids from a ragged wound in his belly. Flames fed by dying oxygen reserves leaped and sparked, showing how deep the tear went.