Damn that woman, Kyra thought, for perhaps the millionth time. If it weren’t for Ella…
Tris would be dead.
And she would definitely be dead.
Kreon too, she was reasonably certain…
But not Sharki.
Playing ‘what if’ was quite possibly her least favourite activity in the entire galaxy, so in desperation she went in search of Lukas again.
She found him working out in the cargo bay. Hard to believe — he’d been ‘living’ in her shuttle for less than twenty-four hours, and he’d already set up a home gym. Mostly he was lifting crates of different sizes, hauling them up and down the shiny metal deck, using them to bench-press, doing push-ups on them… the list went on. She watched him for a while, waiting for him to notice so she could deliver a scathing eye-roll. But if there was one thing he didn’t shirk, it was exercise.
Finally, she gave up and strode in. “Want to spar?”
Lukas showed no sign of surprise at her arrival. Maybe he’d just been ignoring her. “Depends. I’m keen on keeping my head where it is for the time being.”
“Aww? Are you scared of little old me? Look at the size of you!”
“I bruise easily.”
The evidence was right before her eyes; both his head and his shoulder sported truly magnificent lumps, which had turned an angry purple over the last few hours. Those were at least partially her fault.
“Okay. I’ll go easy on you.”
An hour later, she felt like she’d worked out at least some of her tension. Lukas proved to be a reasonably competent sparring partner. He wasn’t fast like she was, and unlike Tristan he wasn’t hungry to prove himself. He maintained a solid defence, using his thick forearms to ward off most of her blows, and made the occasional attack with his fists. They were easy for her to avoid, but she had to admit that one of those connecting would feel like being hit by a battering ram.
“Not bad,” she said, stepping back and dropping her guard. “For a lazy tub of lard.”
Lukas grabbed a towel from the nearest crate and wiped the sheen of sweat off his glistening pecs. It came as no surprise that he worked out topless; she wondered idly if he’d even brought a shirt.
“Look, I know what you think of me,” he said. “But I’m an alright guy, I really am. I’m just not in as big a hurry to be a hero as you fine folk. I know the old man’s some kind of local legend, and you’re all on a big crusade to save the galaxy. But where I’m from, most people are just happy to be alive. Living under the Church made you appreciate the small things — like freedom, even if it meant huddling inside a dank asteroid for years at a time. Not all of us have got great destinies mapped out for us. We just want to live our lives, help a few people, and find a bit of happiness. It’s not too much to ask.”
“No,” she said, surprising herself by agreeing with him. “I guess if Kreon plans on saving the galaxy, there’s got to be some regular people in it to save. Otherwise we might as well not bother.”
He flashed her a grin. “You can save me anytime you want.”
Just like that, he had to go and ruin it.
She stomped out, not bothering to towel down, and headed straight for her cabin. Fears for Sharki had come crashing back down, the fear that something more terrible had been happening to him whilst she’d been having fun. She felt guilty for wasting time with Lukas, almost as though she shouldn’t have been seeking a diversion. Like she was cheating on Sharki’s predicament; he was suffering, so she should be too. Ridiculous, but that’s how it was. They’d been together for so long, through so much; she couldn’t imagine him being in pain, and her not being there to shoulder some of it for him. That was the real source of the guilt she was feeling, she realised: she should have been there for him.
I should never have left.
And yet, her time with Kreon had been so vital, so dynamic… she’d felt like she was achieving something. Doing some good. Like she had a purpose. After decades of drifting around the galaxy, splitting the difference between keeping a low profile and finding enough excitement to stay sane… she’d finally found her place. Found a job that she was good at — and that was worth doing. Not just another pay-check, another story, another nod of respect from a peer. Not just another day marked ‘safe’ on the endless calendar of her life. No, working for Kreon — working with Kreon — she had the power to make a difference. To live a life that mattered.
Because one day, perhaps one day very soon, that life would be over.
And what Kyra wanted more than anything was to know that she’d counted.
***
The planet at Evie’s coordinates wasn’t listed in any of the public databases Kyra had access to. She’d half expected to arrive in dead space, only to be surrounded by a fleet of enemy vessels and blown to bits without ever seeing her attackers.
In her heart of hearts, however, she knew that Evie would want to watch her suffer. Would want to fight her, and to end her life personally. It was more than just professional pride; this thing between them had become personal long before Sharki got dragged into the crossfire.
The sad thing was, if it had just been about the money, Kreon could have moved funds from any number of slush accounts to outbid Kyra’s marker. He could even have gone to Oktavius, and had the High Warden request his opposite number in the Priesthood to quash this unsanctioned hit against one of his key operatives.
But Evie had made her feelings clear, during her attack on them in the darkened corridors of the Folly. She blamed Tristan for the loss of her sister’s love, and Kyra for the loss of everything else. From the chosen bodyguard of one of the most powerful figures in the galaxy, she’d become nothing more than a thug’s hired gun. With her boss in hiding, and all his enemies illegal targets (the Wardens had an ancient pact of non-aggression with the Priesthood), she must have had few outlets for her frustration.
It probably didn’t help that Kyra had cut both her arms off, either.
It certainly hadn’t helped Sharki.
Kyra stared at the viewscreen. She was approaching a rich green world beneath a swirling layer of clouds. There was no indication of active technology anywhere on the surface, which was weird. As far as she could tell, she hadn’t been scanned on approach; Nightshade’s counter-surveillance package was state-of-the-art, and her matte black hull featured some kind of high-end anti-sensor coating. According to all her instruments, this planet was perfectly capable of supporting human life; a breathable atmosphere, gravity within sustainable tolerances… Surface temperatures seemed balmy. Electrostatic interference, presumably from the vegetation, widened the potential for sensor errors, but overall the place seemed quite hospitable.
Which meant that whoever lived there had gone to great lengths to keep the place secret.
And they were unlikely to welcome visitors.
Lukas clumped into the cockpit. She wouldn’t even have glanced at him, except the sound of his approach denoted a difference. She turned to find him wearing a full suit of powered armour, the heavy plates increasing his already considerable bulk.
“Can you even move in that stuff?” It was an honest question; higher-end suits like that required a neural hook-up to control properly.
“I’m working on it,” he replied. “I know this is a personal thing, and I know you don’t want my help, but I can’t let you walk off into the middle of a hostile planet on your own. That’s not right.”
“Are you out of your frikkin’ mind? Stealth is the only thing I’ve got on my side. The last thing I need is you blundering along behind me like a giant toy robot.”
“But I—”
“I don’t have time for this!” She turned back to her console. “Get your ass in that seat and strap in, or you’ll have another set of bruises to match.” A thought occurred to her. “And please tell me there’s no more of that green shit lying around loose in your cabin.”
“Nope!” She heard the thunk of him patting his chest. “It’s all in here. No p
oint wasting it.”
She was doing her best to ignore him, but it was damn near impossible. “What, you drank weeks worth of that crap in less than two days? Ugh. If you throw up on me during this landing, we’re back to me cutting your dick off.”
“Don’t worry your delicate little head. Iron constitution over here. What goes in, stays in. Although since you mention it… how do you go to the toilet in this stuff?”
Kyra took her eyes off her instruments long enough to send him a withering glare. “You don’t.”
She guided the shuttle into the upper atmosphere and rechecked the coordinates. She was right on track, which meant Evie was probably watching her arrival on a console somewhere. A few tense minutes passed, with nothing but clouds streaming past the viewscreens. They broke out into clear skies, and an endless expanse of glistening foliage unrolled beneath them. Their destination was up ahead; terrain sensors showed a cluster of clearings in the forest, any of which would be big enough to land in.
Crossing her fingers, Kyra chose the closest.
She eased them in gently, hoping not to disturb the local wildlife too much. Not that it would make much difference; it was hard to miss a ship of this size coming down in your neighbourhood, even without the animals going berserk.
Nightshade settled onto her landing skids with a minimum of fuss.
Easy. Too easy…
She unfastened her restraints and stood up to leave.
And without warning, the whole ship tilted sideways.
Quick reflexes saved Kyra from flying across the cockpit. She grabbed onto her chair, wrestling herself back into it as the angle of the floor increased dramatically. “Shit! The ground’s unstable!” She grabbed the console, bracing herself against it as she stabbed the ignition. Thrusters fired, and she scanned the displays to see what effect it was having. Nightshade had begun to sink, the firm ground seeming to melt underneath her. Kyra dialled up the thrusters, hoping to combat the sucking effect of whatever substance they were trapped in.
An alarm warbled, drawing her attention to the landing gear. Already mired, the left-most skid was now taking structural damage. She swore again. “There’s something down there! It’s pulling us in.”
“More thrust?” Lukas suggested from behind her. He sounded remarkably composed, considering.
“What do you think I’m doing? You want to get out and push?”
The shuttle trembled with the strain, as jet power fought whatever it was that was dragging them down.
“Main thrust?” Lukas offered.
“Ugh! Sydon’s Name,” Kyra cursed. But he was right. They were losing this battle, and they’d lose more with every thruster that went under. Flicking over her controls she fired up the main drive.
And with a screech of tearing metal, they lurched forwards. Kyra hauled hard on the control stem to keep them from slamming into the dirt, but there was nothing she could do about the trees. The hull crunched and boomed as they ploughed through the trunks, tearing a ragged hole in the canopy on their way back into fresh air. Several new alarms now blared, and Kyra cut them off with an angry slap of her console. She killed the main drive, not wanting to leave the area, and slewed the shuttle around for another look.
Apart from a slightly disturbed ripple to the ground, the clearing they’d tried to land in looked completely normal.
As did the others…
“They’re all the same,” she realised, studying the outlines of each clearing.
“Then we probably shouldn’t land in any of them,” Lukas said. “I’ve got a sinking feeling.”
“Funny.” She checked the terrain scanners, but didn’t see anything else suitable in the vicinity. Not that she’d have trusted it if she did. “Great. I guess we do this a little differently.”
Toggling for weapons, she selected a short-range missile and targeted a particularly dense stand of trees. The missile streaked out, clearing the distance to its target in less than a second. The detonation was spectacular — something she rarely got to witness in atmosphere. Instead of a brief flare followed by an expanding cloud of debris, the explosion bloomed like a brilliant flower, instantly vaporising a hundred square metres of jungle and turning the next fifty surrounding it into an inferno.
A column of thick black smoke guided them down, as well as announcing their arrival in the most dramatic way imaginable.
Oops.
Lukas gazed at the viewscreens, admiring the destruction from all angles. “Wow,” he said. “Your version of stealth looks very different to mine.”
6
Kyra was determined to save at least one life that day.
So, following a cautious and tentative second landing on the mysterious planet, she followed Lukas into his cabin and rapped him on the temple with the hilt of her sword. He collapsed in a heap, half in and half out of the room. Moving him in his armour was a hell of a job, but she figured it would count as a warm-up. Eventually she got him all the way inside his cabin, and disabled the locking mechanism from the outside. Physically impressive as he was, this was no place for amateurs.
Her own gear was far more appropriate; a size-adjustable environment suit built for space combat. She’d overlooked the suit’s dubious origins in favour of its perfect balance of strength and flexibility. Then again, perhaps ‘appropriate’ wasn’t the right word. She eyed it critically. Before Evie’s message had come in, she’d spent hours turning her armour into a work of art. Every solid plate had been carefully coated in hot pink glitter.
Lukas had been kind enough not to mention it, but the gaudy paint job now felt horribly out of place. To say nothing of its less-than-ideal camouflage potential on what appeared to be a jungle world.
Still. This was kill-or-be-killed. Might as well look good while she was doing it. And she had the gear to back it up; a powerful rifle, a brace of pistols, spare powerpacks clipped to her armour in several locations. Grenades, knives, throwing spikes, and eyeliner that verged on war-paint.
Plus the Gift, her swords… and herself.
I am a weapon, she reminded herself. And I will break that bitch apart.
She left the ship by the main ramp, as that placed her directly beneath the hull. Keeping an eye out for snipers was going to be all but impossible in the dense terrain, but by incinerating most of the surrounding area she’d inadvertently done herself a favour.
She briefly entertained the hope that Evie had been down here waiting to strike, and had been burned to a crisp in the missile strike; it didn’t seem likely, though.
Fate was never that kind.
She had the coordinates on a portable console strapped to her wrist, so the first step was simple.
She set off, stepping gingerly through a blasted world of fire-blackened trunks and smouldering undergrowth. Heat radiated back from the charred trees, making the air around them shimmer. Great plumes of smoke rolled skyward, as flecks of ash and the odd burning ember drifted down.
Not a great day to be having a picnic.
With most of the foliage cleared away by the blast, it only took her a few minutes to reach virgin territory. Beyond the missile’s blast radius the fires had mostly burned out, and she was soon forced to slice a path through tangling vines and branches.
Nearly there… she was right on top of Evie’s coordinates.
She stepped up to the edge of another clearing. Although far too small to land a ship in, something about the shape of it made her wary. She reached out with the Gift, looking for surprises. There was no-one in the vicinity as far as she could tell, but Evie had fooled her before. The Priesthood taught its agents to hide themselves from psychics as a matter of course. Scanning the higher branches around her, she saw nothing out of the ordinary… Except for the one thing she was supposed to see.
Dangling high above the clearing on a long steel cable was a small, curved device. It took her a few seconds to place it — a wrist-console, not much different to the one she was using. Smaller though, and a bit battered… the blood
drained from her face as she connected the dots. This was part of Sharki’s gear, dangled here like a lure. Was that Evie’s plan? Was she following a trail of breadcrumbs? Were there pieces of Sharki’s stuff dangling all over the jungle? Or worse… her stomach twisted. Would there be pieces of Sharki?
She had to get it down. But the ground looked suspicious. After her first encounter on the planet, she wasn’t going anywhere near that clearing. Fortunately, she was better equipped than most for such a puzzle. Clearing her mind, she focussed on the tip of her Arranozapar. The blade stretched out, guided by the Gift, doubling and then tripling in length. Even so, the sword wasn’t infinite; long and thin as a ribbon, at its maximum extension it was just a fraction too short. She took a step forward to increase her reach, only to find her foot sinking into the loose soil on the edge of the clearing. She leapt back, the sword flashing as it resumed its original length — just in time. Something moved beneath the surface of the clearing, a long ripple sweeping through the area she’d just vacated.
Shit! Her heart pounded at the near-miss. Good job Lukas wasn’t here to see that. I really put my foot in it.
And still the device hung there, taunting her.
With frustration mounting — and unable to climb a tree in her armoured suit — she pulled the pistol from her hip and shot it.
The cable was easy to hit at this range, and gave way to the white-hot laser beam. Letting the pistol drop the instant the shot was fired, she swung the sword in her other hand like a bat. Her skill with the Arranozapar was such that she hit the device mid-air with the flat of the blade. It wasn’t enough that she could catch the thing though, and it went spinning off into the foliage behind her.
But at least it hadn’t landed in the clearing and been munched on by whatever lived below the surface… She was going to have to keep a watch out for those things.
Warden's Fate Page 7
