Galaxy of Titans: An Epic Space Opera Series (The Augmented Book 3)

by Ben Hale

  Dragorn settled into his seat and pondered the offer. It was good, even Reklin could admit that, and played to Dragorn’s anger, fear, and desperation. Enix had delivered it flawlessly, and Reklin shifted his feet. How could he intervene without risking Mora’s life? Noticing his unease, Gellow shot him a look that warned him to silence.

  “I actually know a suitable location for such an ambush,” Dragorn said.

  “Already?” Enix asked in admiration.

  “What else do you think I do with my time here?” he growled.

  “Give me the message and I’ll return it to Skorn as quickly as possible,” Enix said. “And of course, please feel free to code it so I will not know its contents.”

  “That will not be necessary. I’m satisfied with your answers.”

  Gellow smiled, but Enix demonstrated the perfect amount of gratitude. Reklin held himself in check, his desperation mounting. He could not let Enix get a foothold. Dragorn pulled a cortex crystal from his white cloak and reached between him and Enix. Sensing the crystal, a section of the floor rose, and a holo reached up to embrace the crystal. The room dimmed as a galactic map of the Krey Empire was displayed in glittering points of starlight.

  Dragorn stood. As his seat receded into the floor, he approached a corner of the map and pointed. “This system would be suitable for what my son intends.”

  Enix joined him and squinted. “I’m not familiar with—”

  Dragorn’s seracrete blade plunged into Enix’s back between the shoulder blades. Reklin drew his broken sunderblade, and Gellow drew his hammer as Enix cried out in shock. The sound was cut off as Dragorn wrapped a hand around his mouth and spun to put Enix between himself and Reklin.

  “Reklin,” he said with a dark smile, “return the blade to your back. Your companion as well.”

  Reklin glanced at Gellow, and the dakorian reluctantly nodded. Both slowly returned their weapons while Enix squirmed in Dragorn’s iron grip.

  The blue-eyed krey waited until they were both unarmed before pulling the seracrete blade free and kicking Enix to the floor. The spy collapsed. Gasping for breath, he tried to reach for the wound, but it was just out of reach, so he began to crawl away. Blood darkened his cloak, enough to suggest Dragorn had nicked the krey’s heart.

  “You were very believable,” Dragorn said to the gasping Enix, “and I was almost convinced. Bringing Reklin was a particularly nice touch.”

  “The Condemned are forbidden to carry weapons . . .” he rasped.

  Dragorn lifted the small blade and examined it. “I filed this down out of an eating utensil. It’s proved very useful, don’t you think?”

  Enix fought to breathe, but his life was fading. Dragorn rolled him over with his foot and watched the krey die. His expression was so cold that Reklin shuddered, and when he spoke it conveyed a disturbing calm.

  “Open a beamcast to the Ghost Queen and I’ll let you live.”

  “Why would you think we work for Visika?” Reklin asked.

  Dragorn chuckled with scornful condemnation. “It is the only answer that makes sense. Visika wants the augments, and I’m the apparent weakness. I’m guessing she failed to break you.”

  Reklin remained silent, but Gellow growled, “We’re not connecting you to anyone.”

  “I wasn’t asking you,” Dragorn snapped, his eyes returning to Enix. “I cut one of the valves on your heart. You’ll be dead in four minutes, less if you try to move. It’s your choice. Die, or let me speak to Visika.”

  The krey looked up into the icy blue eyes of a killer and crumpled. With trembling hands, he activated his holoview and opened a link to the ship. The holo resolved and expanded to replace the map of the stars, its light coalescing into Visika.

  She regarded Enix on the floor with a disgusted expression. “You are a disappointment.”

  “Please,” Enix muttered.

  Visika turned her attention to Dragorn. “The Head of House Bright’Lor,” she drawled. “It is a pleasure.”

  “The pleasure is mine,” Dragorn said.

  She noticed the weapon in his hand. “You are resourceful.”

  “My circumstances require it. But I’m curious, how did you get Reklin to agree? From what I understand, he is a titan in his own right.”

  Reklin scowled. “She used a member of my family. A child.”

  “An intelligent tactic,” Dragorn said.

  “A cowardly tactic,” Reklin said.

  Dragorn shrugged. “I assume the request for an ambush was merely a ploy to find Lumineia?”

  “You assume correctly,” Visika said. “We know their value, and the effect they will have on the Empire. We want a piece of it.”

  “Why not come directly to me?” Dragorn said.

  “You would betray your own children?” Reklin asked.

  “Ero and Skorn are allies only as long as they obey my rule,” Dragorn snapped. “And they have been increasingly silent of late. I suspect they intend to let the tribunal become my execution.”

  “They will lose your protection, and House Bright’Lor would be dissolved,” Visika said.

  “Not if Skorn forms a new House,” Dragorn said.

  She chuckled, the sound tinged with admiration. “If that is his plan, it is devious.”

  “Only if I die,” Dragorn said, and then smiled. “I would love to disappoint my treacherous sons.”

  “Your reputation is well deserved.”

  Dragorn swept a hand to Visika. “Skorn would do well to remember his place, but I require an ally. I want to see their faces when they die in shame.”

  Reklin struggled to keep the revulsion in check. Dragorn spoke of revenge against his sons like it was a matter of course, or even pleasure. Reklin had served with many krey such as him, and yet this time it inspired a wellspring of anger.

  “Will you kill them?” Reklin demanded. He advanced on Dragorn, but Gellow stepped between them, his hammer in his hand. Reklin didn’t care. “You would kill your own sons?”

  “Ero is already dead to me,” Dragorn snarled. “And if Skorn thinks he can take my House from me, he must be taught a lesson.”

  Reklin shoved Gellow aside and drew his blade. “You’re as vile as a roak.”

  “Touch him and Mora dies,” Visika said.

  Reklin trembled with the desire to swing his sunderblade, but the image of Mora held him bound. Releasing an explosive snarl, he retreated to the corner of the room.

  Dragorn had the gall to laugh at Reklin’s back. “You see, dakorian? Your love for a whelp is nothing but weakness.”

  Reklin pointed the broken blade at him. “Only to those who have no love.”

  Dragorn smirked and turned to Visika. “Forget my sons. I am the Head of House Bright’Lor, and if I survive my tribunal, I will own the planet and the augments.”

  Visika regarded him with a mixture of calculation and pleasure. She’d obviously planned on taking the planet by force, but if she allied with Dragorn directly, she would own everything. And Reklin’s friends would be sold or killed.

  “How can I trust you?” Visika asked.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Dragorn asked. “When the augments are brought to market, I’ll need a network capable of handling the distribution, and who better than an organization with a proven record of distributing goods without the knowledge of the Krey Empire? You cannot trust me, but you can trust my need of you and your organization.”

  “Exclusive rights?” Visika asked.

  Dragorn nodded. “I retain the formula and the planet. You get the exclusive right to distribute the augments. For a tidy percentage, of course.”

  “Of course,” Visika purred.

  “Then do we have a deal?”

  Visika smiled. “It appears we have an alliance.”

  “You said you would spare me.” Enix’s voice was weak and getting weaker.

  Dragorn knelt at his side, but kept his distance from the blood. “I lied.”

  He stabbed once and left the weapon. Then he
rose and, without a backwards look, went to the door and left. Reklin watched the holo fade as Enix took his last breath, feeling Visika’s eyes on him.

  “Come back to the ship,” she said with a smile. “We have a new ally to appease.”

  With no other option, Reklin followed Gellow from the room. As they exited the Ranger offices, he grappled with the chains that seemed to be forming around his hands. Visika believed he would be submissive because of Mora, but he wasn’t about to let Siena, Ero, or anyone else fall into Visika’s hands. He needed to escape.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Ero gave you access to the World Gate?” Kensen asked.

  Siena had selected six members of her team the moment Ero had given her access through her personal holoview. Tana was essential in space, and Begle and Bort were the best fighters. Quis had a knack for being invisible and his body augment was incredibly useful. Rahnora, with her light and plant augments, had saved Siena’s life more times than she could count, and her ability to craft light photons into a solid state had proven essential more than once. Kensen completed the team, and she wasn’t about to leave Lumineia on such a dangerous mission without him. The small group had met at the Gate in Ilumidora, where she’d asked Kensen to connect them to the City of Dawn. With her new access code, he was able to open the Gate.

  “I can’t believe he gave it to you,” Tana said with a shake of her head. “Is there anything Ero won’t do?”

  “Give me freedom,” Siena replied.

  Quis was using his augmented eyesight to watch the streets of Ilumidora. “He’s given us more than any other krey.”

  “He’s let us fight,” Begle grunted. “That’s all I care about.”

  His brother sparked fire in his palm and then extinguished it. “So where are we going?”

  “To Rebor,” Siena said, spotting Kevent approaching from a side street.

  “A dakorian homeworld?” Kensen paused in accessing the Gate crystal.

  “Keep working,” she said, and jumped off the platform to join Kevent.

  Siena had spent more time with Kevent than any of the other dakorians, and as she closed the gap, she saw the tension on his features. Since there were krey scientists in the street nearby, she opened her mind augment to speak telepathically.

  What’s wrong?

  The dakorians did not like when she used that particular augment, but Kevent hardly noticed this time. He spoke in the same manner. Skorn gave me orders to start training a second team of humans. He told me to start today.

  Siena was so surprised that she blurted, “A second team? Why?”

  Kevent’s eyes flicked to one of the vid monitors on the top of a pole. Kensen had obscured them at Siena’s request, but Kevent was obviously still disconcerted.

  He lowered his voice. “I believe he’s planning on you not making it back alive. Maybe we should wait a few days and convince Ero to let a few dakorians go with you. I know Teridon and Worg would be willing.”

  She clenched a fist. “If Mora is in trouble, I’m not going to sit idle.”

  “You don’t understand,” Kevent said. “Skorn didn’t just order me to stay, he ordered every dakorian to sever communications with you. He’s cutting you off, so if you go, you won’t even have communication support from Lumineia. If you get into trouble, you’ll be on your own.”

  A tremor fluttered through Siena’s chest. She’d known she would be alone, but this seemed extreme—unless that was the point. It was no secret that Skorn hated Ero’s friendship with her, and her dying on a mission for Ero would keep the brothers’ alliance intact, while eliminating Siena as a threat.

  “I don’t care,” she said. “I’m going.”

  “You’d risk that much for Mora?” Kevent asked.

  “Don’t look so surprised.” She smiled wryly. “When have you known me to ever skip a fight?”

  “Never,” Quis called.

  “Stop listening to every conversation, Quis,” she shot back.

  “Sorry!”

  Kevent grinned. “This isn’t like your other missions where you had support just minutes away. And don’t forget, Malikin isn’t the only one hunting augments.”

  “Then we’ll have to be careful.”

  She spoke with more confidence than she felt. The prospect of going to the Empire with just her team was terrifying. Capture meant further experimentation or death, for both her and her friends, and it would be only too easy to figure out that they were not normal slaves.

  “Are you sure?” Kevent gave her a searching look.

  “It’s Mora,” Siena said. “And besides, this might be the lead we’ve been looking for to find Reklin. I’ll have Kensen figure out a way around Skorn’s communication wall.”

  In a testament to how much the dakorians had come to trust her, Kevent nodded and reached up to tap his right horn, a mark of respect given between soldiers. Humbled, she gave a solemn nod to Kevent.

  “If you do find my brother, tell him he’s a hornless roak.”

  “I will.”

  “Gate’s open,” Kensen called.

  “Time to go,” she said.

  Siena returned to her team and stepped through the Gate, exiting into the City of Dawn. They were dressed in the muted gray uniform common to all slaves, instead of the more colorful garb of an augment. In the City of Dawn, dozens of krey were in the street. Siena only knew a few by name, but understood their purpose. They were assigned to Erlanex, who was building a Stormdial at the center of the sea north of Ilumidora, as well as constructing other locations on the planet. Others were assigned to Skorn, and worked on augment monitoring. When they weren’t working, they enjoyed the rapidly expanding entertainments in the City of Dawn.

  Although she was the most recognizable of any of the augments, Siena kept her head down and shuffled through the pristine streets of the krey city. The others followed behind, and in silence they turned several corners and approached the World Gate set between the six towering pillars at the heart of the city. A dakorian watched them approach.

  “Devroc,” Siena greeted.

  “Siena,” he replied. “Kevent let me know what you’re up to.”

  “Will you let us pass?”

  He grunted in amusement. “If I didn’t, Lavana would have my horns.”

  Stepping aside, he motioned to a gap between the pillars. Siena, grateful for the dakorian matriarch, thanked the hulking soldier and hurried through. She motioned Kensen to the side as she activated her holoview and passed the code.

  “One moment,” Kensen said.

  He reached out and opened the cortex, expanding the holo. He spun and manipulated the symbols before grabbing the code Siena had supplied and putting it into the center. Ero’s code was a self-replicating model, which generated a one-time access each time it was used. Kensen had lamented before that it was unhackable.

  “I’m in,” he said, looking upward. “Gate’s connected.”

  “I’m first through,” Siena said. “We don’t know what’s on the other side, so just act like we’re a group of slaves on specific assignment.”

  “So pretend to be timid,” Rahnora said, shooting Begle and Bort a sharp look.

  “Hey,” Bort said, “what did I do?”

  “You two are in the back,” Siena said, cutting off Rahnora’s reply. “With any luck, the krey we encounter will just assume we are together. Stay close and follow my lead.”

  She turned towards the Gate, but Kensen asked, “Our leashes?”

  She grimaced. She’d already made her first mistake. At this rate she would get them all killed. But she couldn’t afford to succumb to doubt, so she pretended to have planned it all along. They believed her to be invulnerable, and she needed them to believe she could do this. There was already doubt in several of their faces.

  “I don’t want to risk anyone on this side seeing our House ownership,” she said. “Change them as we depart.”

  “What House?” Kensen asked.

  “Kel’Ray,” sh
e said after a moment’s thought. “They’re third-ranked and we’re unlikely to be questioned.”

  Kensen nodded and pointed to Siena as she passed him. He’d learned how to use his augment to alter the color of the leashes a few weeks ago, and Siena privately hoped he would figure out a way to disconnect them entirely. His few efforts at such an attempt had proven very painful. For now, Skorn could code better than Kensen could augment.

  Siena exited onto a space station. It was massive and resembled an inverted spider, with the body housing a series of shield domes containing gardens and brilliant fountains. The legs trailed out and up, providing berths for the various new ships. The gleaming ships were visible from anywhere in the dome. Great Ovgelin- and Belorida-class cruisers, cargo ships, and smaller Roque-class pleasure ships. Lights bathed the vessels in illumination, showing every gleaming contour.

  “Woah,” Quis breathed, his brown eyes bright with wonder.

  “Heads down,” Tana admonished as she joined them. “And start walking before we attract attention.”

  Siena ducked her head and set out across the wide seracrete platform, which supported a dozen other World Gates. Krey nobles appeared through one of them with an entourage of dakorians, humans, and lower krey. The atmosphere was boisterous, and laughter tinkled from the gardens that dominated the center of the main dome.

  Siena walked off the platform and chose a less crowded path into the forest of great leafy trees. The air was warm and humid, and music wafted from a group of krey artisans. She glanced at Kensen, who was stealing looks at their surroundings.

  Kensen? she mentally prodded him.

  What?

  Do you want to tell me where we’re going?

  He blinked. Right.

  Although she could probably have identified their destination by sifting through the minds of nearby krey, Kensen could do it by linking directly to the station’s network, reducing the risk of exposure unless someone noticed him twitching and muttering to himself. Fortunately, no one spared them a second look. Being a slave had a certain sense of anonymity that Siena had grown to appreciate.