Dark Star Rising

by Bennett R. Coles

  Liam sat back, staring at the swinging lamp. Was there some lovely young lady out there pining for Ava’s return, even knowing that they could never be together? It was a sickening irony that the death of Zara and her odious husband had led to Ava’s family facing financial ruin.

  If the Templegrey fortunes weren’t restored, Ava’s marriage to Silverhawk was only too likely. The foppish lord loved to surround himself with beautiful things, and he’d treat Ava as just another part of his collection, until he grew bored of her and looked for amusement elsewhere.

  Liam’s fingers closed around the broach, squeezing tightly. He may not have had the power to save Zara, but maybe he had the power to save Ava. She didn’t deserve the noose that he knew Riverton was actively considering. The Empire didn’t have to suffer another brilliant noblewoman becoming a casualty of its own rules.

  He put the boxes away in a drawer. Confronting Riverton directly was pointless. But they were still twelve hours from Morassia, and perhaps he could create an opportunity to influence the captain’s decision.

  It was a fool’s errand, he admitted. But he had to try.

  Chapter 11

  The heat clung to her like a wet blanket, and she felt her whole body sag as she stopped to rest in the shade of one of the tall buildings, dropping her bag to the ground. Amelia was used to the wet, but on Passagia it was a cold damp that seeped into the bones. Here on Morassia it was a thick soup that sapped the energy.

  “Are you unwell?” Bella asked, her head lifting up from her walking stance.

  She and Sam paused in the street, setting down their packs. The sunlight gleamed off their scaly skin and new clothes. The trip ashore had finally given them a chance to acquire clothing beyond what they’d fled Windfall in. Amelia had hoped to see what kind of flamboyant fashions her Theropod friends might enjoy, but they’d both chosen drab, practical garb.

  “Not unwell,” she replied, “just so hot. How can you stand there in the sunshine?”

  Sam took a deep breath, his nostrils flaring as he lifted his head toward the sky.

  “This planet is much more like one of our own,” he said. “A good temperature and not bone-dry. It no longer hurts to breathe.”

  “Why do you think there are so many of us here?” Bella added.

  Amelia scanned the broad square. Bordered by permanent building three or four stories tall, the open space was packed with cafés and market stalls, with a heavily laden mule train even now plodding through from the main street toward one of the warehouses. It was bustling with activity, but with a quick survey Amelia noticed that the number of tall, dark heads of Humans was almost matched by the number of shifting, bobbing reptilian heads of Theropods. In their two hours ashore so far she’d certainly seen plenty of them, but she hadn’t realized just how many there were. And how actively they moved compared to the sluggish, irritable Humans.

  “I’ve never seen so many Theropods before,” she mused.

  “We rarely cluster,” Sam replied. “Territorialism is a difficult instinct to overcome.”

  “But I think this planet is the only one we’ve ever really fought Humans for,” Bella added.

  Most of the stories Amelia had heard about brutes were from the Morassian War, she realized. Her knowledge of history was patchy, but she couldn’t think of any other major organized conflicts between the two races. Mostly it seemed to be local skirmishes over homesteads or extraction rights.

  “Well,” she said, plucking her shirt off her neck, “if it had been up to me, I’d have given you this place. Besides, we seem to be sharing just fine.”

  “I think ‘tolerating’ would be a better word,” Sam said. “Which is the most we can expect even from our own people.”

  “You don’t get along with each other?”

  “Beyond our immediately family,” he said, “everyone else is competition.”

  “But family is everything,” Bella added, stepping closer and rubbing her head along his neck. “And worth risking everything to protect.”

  Amelia smiled. “Bonded for life.”

  “For life,” Sam agreed. “You understand, Amelia. You are not like some other Humans.”

  “They seem to put vaguer things before family,” Bella continued. “These strange concepts like ‘empire’ and such.”

  “It’s because we have to,” Amelia said, hefting her bag wearily. “If we don’t obey the laws, no one will protect us from the pirates and other criminals who always want to steal and destroy. We’re stronger together . . . although many of us wish we could live another way.”

  “How would you live? In family groups like us?”

  “No, bigger than that.” She shrugged. “Just sharing things more equally, instead of the lords owning everything and controlling our lives.”

  “Barbaric,” Sam said.

  “But there are bright sides to it,” she said. “Sailing in our ship, for example. A good crew can feel like family, and as we endure together the bonds can draw us close. My real family might be systems away from here, but my fellow crewmembers are always with me.”

  “Yes,” Bella said, moving to walk alongside her. “We have enjoyed sensing the companionship of your Human crew. It’s so strange to see nonfamily members surviving for so long together.”

  “But Theropods crew ships, too.”

  “Only in family units,” Sam said, moving to flank her other side. “Nonfamily crews can’t last more than a few months before fighting breaks out. We learned that many generations ago.”

  “I wonder how the Theropod pirates survive?”

  “Treachery and constant movement, I suspect.”

  Amelia glanced at the pair of reptiles lowered in their walking stances on either side of her. Their powerful legs moved with feline grace, their long tails out to balance their bodies leaning forward. Both had raised their heads to see better through the crowds. Every movement was quick and precise, almost birdlike.

  “Our two peoples appear very different,” she said finally, “but in our hearts I think we are much the same. We love, we fear, we fight for what’s important. And mostly, we just want to be left in peace.”

  Sam barked in appreciation. “We have enjoyed sailing with you, and your crew family.”

  “Really?” Amelia was genuinely pleased to hear that.

  “So long as we’re together,” Bella said, “any adventure is a good adventure.”

  “I wish you could stay,” Amelia admitted. “Any idea what your next move is?”

  “We will look for opportunities here on Morassia—another restaurant or café that caters to Humans.”

  “If there’s a good location available we’ll start our own,” Sam added, “but there’s usually somebody looking to sell. We’ve turned around a failing café more than once.”

  “I believe it,” Amelia said. “The crew certainly love your cooking. And I still feel I owe you everything, for how you helped me rescue Liam.”

  “The protection of a mate is the highest service,” Sam said. “We were honored to do so.”

  “And look,” Bella said, nosing her head forward to indicate a familiar group of Humans moving slowly through the crowds ahead of them, “there is your mate now.”

  Amelia grinned as she saw Liam, his tall, lean form slipping through the crowds as he followed Commander Riverton. Swift and Sky were close behind. All of them were in nondescript civilian clothing, and at a glance would have completely blended into the crowd, but Amelia could always recognize Liam’s gait, his stance, his handsome features.

  “I think they’re moving toward our quarry,” she said, suddenly even more interested as she pressed forward to close the distance. “Let’s watch.”

  Liam kept his hands close as they moved through the bustling crowd of Humans and Theropods. He’d never seen so many brutes in one place, but they were scattered and self-absorbed. Instinct made him immediately wary of their alien, predatory bodies, but experience told him that there was nothing to worry about. Theropods n
ever acted in groups larger than half a dozen and were more likely to turn on each other in such close confines than on a Human.

  He knew he should be more worried about the Humans around him, but the heat robbed everyone of their vigor, and the fellow members of his species either slouched along or hunkered at their tables, their eyes down. Everyone was just enduring until the relative cool of winter reached this side of the planet in another month or more.

  A familiar form caught his eye, and for a moment he fixed on Amelia, no doubt returning from her stores run. The two Theropods were still with her, hard to recognize in their new clothes. She glanced at him with a little smile. He gave her a wink before turning to follow Riverton through the crowd.

  Swift and Sky were close behind him, in case bodyguards suddenly became necessary. Butcher and Brown were on duty in the ship. With all the unregistered vessels in orbit Liam would have felt more comfortable if Templegrey was free to join them, but Riverton was still insistent that she remain under house arrest. His urgent, quiet words that morning had seemingly fallen on deaf ears.

  As he followed the captain past a line of potted, broad-leaved plants and into the welcoming cool of a covered stone portico, however, he remembered that Riverton had much more pressing matters on her mind.

  The patio was popular, but the tables were widely spread to offer ease of movement for Theropods and provide a modicum of privacy for each group. The relief from the heat was welcome but did nothing to ease his mood as he spotted the table toward which Riverton approached. Lounging in a chair with a water pipe in hand, Captain Lord Silverhawk lifted his drink to his lips before gesturing languidly.

  “Sophia,” he called, “what a pleasant surprise.”

  He was dressed in a white shirt and trousers, his black boots gleaming with polish as he crossed one leg over the other. His gold coat was unbuttoned and the rapier on his belt hung loosely. His eyes rested on Riverton for a long moment, shifting to Liam and then to Swift and Sky behind him. He made no effort to rise but indicated the two empty chairs at his table.

  The table beyond him was occupied by what could only be bodyguards, Liam assessed. A pair of grim-faced, clean-cut Humans who decidedly ignored their drinks as their eyes scanned Liam and his group. Liam gestured behind his back for Swift and Sky to take the empty table on the near side of Silverhawk, then he sat down next to Riverton. His back brushed up against the potted plants, giving him an easy line of sight to anywhere within the patio.

  A Theropod waiter appeared immediately, providing fresh glasses and another jug of iced water. He paused for a moment, waiting, but when neither Riverton nor Liam spoke he took the hint and retreated.

  “I confess I didn’t expect you to show your face in person,” Silverhawk mused.

  “I was surprised indeed when I saw Arrow in port,” Riverton replied smoothly. “Thank you for meeting with me.”

  “It’s always a pleasure to meet with another civilized person,” he said, offering a derisive gesture at their surroundings. “But what are the chances of us both being here on Morassia at the same time?”

  “We seem to be meeting by chance quite a lot lately,” Riverton replied. “One has to wonder.”

  “I suppose we’re both drawing on the same information. I’m just able to act more swiftly and more effectively.” He took a long puff on his water pipe. “It would explain why His Imperial Majesty granted me a letter to complete the work that you can’t.”

  Riverton folded her hands on the table, offering a courtly smile. “Let us speak plainly.”

  He returned the smile, gesturing indulgently. “As you wish.”

  “My ship is doing real work for His Majesty, which takes time and effort. Your attacks on our targets are making my job more difficult.”

  “Why would I care about that?” His eyebrows furrowed. “Your difficulties are not my problem.”

  “They are when they become the Emperor’s problem.”

  “And how in the stars could that be the case?”

  “We have a mission to accomplish, for the safety of the Empire.”

  “Oh, Sophia, don’t overdramatize.” Silverhawk placed his hand over hers, leaning in like he was sharing a secret. “Hunting down a band of brigands is hardly about ‘the safety of the Empire.’ You and I both have free rein to circumvent the tiresome rules of engagement the Navy suffers under, to send a message to random criminals, and to each take home a hoard of gold. It’s great fun. Or at least, it is for me. Perhaps not so much for you now that you have real competition.”

  To her extreme credit, Liam thought, Riverton left her hands folded under Silverhawk’s. Her luminous eyes were afire, but her voice remained calm.

  “Hunting pirates is a means to an end,” she said. “We need to find information on the larger threat—”

  “Let me explain something to you,” Silverhawk interrupted. “There are always threats to the Empire, be it pirates, or bugs, or these filthy savages we let into our borders.” He gestured toward a pair of Theropods who were just sitting down on stools over his shoulder. “None of them really threaten us—they’re just nuisances. But they give us convenient excuses to go to war, to conquer new worlds, and”—he squeezed her hands—“to profit handsomely while doing it.”

  The two brutes beyond Silverhawk, Liam realized, were Bella and Sam. He scanned the patio and saw Amelia grabbing a tray of waters from the bar. She came over and sat down with them, her back to Liam’s table but clearly aware of her surroundings. Silverhawk’s two bodyguards seemed unconcerned, their gazes moving between their employer and Swift and Sky at the table beyond.

  “I think your assessment of the situation may be inaccurate,” Riverton said slowly. “There is more to this threat than usual.”

  “You mean Dark Star?” Silverhawk scoffed. “A convenient bogeyman to frighten children with? Trust me, Sophia, there is no such man.”

  “I would like to believe you. I’m just not sure I can trust you.”

  “Trust is for fools,” he said, rolling his eyes. “But if there was really a person called Dark Star—an actual, flesh and blood person—I would know about it.”

  “And why is that?” she asked carefully.

  “Because I know things you don’t.” He gave her hands a final squeeze and sat back. “You’re wasting your time.”

  “Then let me carry on with my fool’s errand,” Riverton said. “You can prey on whatever criminals you like—as you say, there’s a galaxy full—but leave me to hunt those few ships that interest me. What is it to you if I waste my time chasing ghosts?”

  Silverhawk took another puff from his water pipe.

  “A clever attempt, but no. You see, I’ve figured out that you have a knack for finding the best targets—except for that last one, don’t waste my time again—and I can’t have you winding up wealthier than me.”

  “Why did you destroy that last one?” Riverton asked suddenly. “If it was of no value, why not just leave it be?”

  “Because it might have had some value to you,” he sighed. “And I can’t allow you to have any advantage.”

  She sat back, folding her arms as she stared at him with narrowed eyes.

  “This is all just a game to you, isn’t it?”

  “That’s your problem, Sophia,” he sighed. “You don’t realize that everything is a game. It doesn’t matter where we get our orders from, or who happens to be pulling the strings. Everyone is playing the game. And I intend to win.”

  He nodded to one of his bodyguards, who promptly rose and strode out of the café. Silverhawk sipped at his drink, then seemed to notice Liam for the first time.

  “You really did choose poorly, Blackwood.”

  “How’s that, sir?”

  “Had you stuck with me, you’d be on your way to riches and a reputation in the Imperial court.”

  The idea of spending even one more day in this man’s service made Liam’s fists tighten. But taking his cue from Riverton’s unshakable serenity, he kept his voice
calm.

  “I go where I’m ordered, sir.”

  “You should have tried harder to ‘arrange’ your orders, then.” He rested his chin on his fist. “You’re actually quite useful. Why don’t you join my ship now, while you have the chance?”

  The question, posed so casually, caught Liam short. He couldn’t help but glance at Riverton, whose expression had darkened.

  “My executive officer is not available,” she said.

  “I think I’d rather let him choose. What say you, Blackwood? I could use a competent second to keep that rabble of sailors in line.”

  “Why in the Abyss would I do that, sir?”

  “Because the game is over, and Sophia has lost. That man I just sent out”—he gestured airily—“is going to report to a local merchant whom we all know works with the pirates. He’s going to tell them that the ship in port known as Soaring Swan—yes, Sophia, I figured out your little ruse—is in fact the Navy ship Daring, also known as the merchant ship Sophia’s Fancy. I suspect you have about an hour until the local hooligans attack your tub of a ship. With your command team ashore, and no doubt some of your crew on liberty, I think they’ll make short work of her.”

  Liam was on his feet with Riverton. Around him he heard the chairs push back for Swift, Sky, and Silverhawk’s remaining bodyguard.

  Silverhawk, still seated, reached for his water pipe again. “That ship will be destroyed, and you two, and your two goons at the next table, will be stranded—and marked. If you want to get off this planet alive, I suggest you reconsider my offer.”

  A stunned silence hung over the table, but no one moved. Liam’s mind raced to think of a way to get a message to Brown aboard Daring, but he waited for Riverton to act.

  “You can’t do this,” Riverton stated firmly. “If one of His Majesty’s sailing ships is destroyed because of your treachery, you’ll hang for treason.”