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

by Ben Hale

  His face turned white. “Malikin’s ship? The same ship that almost destroyed us at the Trithorn System?”

  “The same,” Siena said. “I followed Reklin here, and if I’m not mistaken, it seems the Burning Ghosts turned everyone over to Malikin. I think he now has Ero and Skorn too.”

  Kensen stared at Siena, and then surprisingly smiled. “So every leader of House Bright’Lor is captured?”

  “This doesn’t mean we’re free,” she said. “Malikin is going to get the location of Lumineia eventually, and from what I heard, he’s giving it to the Burning Ghosts.”

  “We’re going to be owned by criminals?” Kensen’s voice rose an octave.

  “Not if I can stop them.”

  The view changed as Worg pushed Kensen aside. “You’re going after Reklin? How can we help?”

  Kensen was visibly shocked. “You’d help him after what he did to you?”

  “He’s our captain,” Teridon snapped. “Of course we’re going after him.”

  “There’s nothing you can do from Lumineia,” she said. “I’ll find them and get them out.”

  Worg reappeared. “You think you can take on the crew of the Kildor on your own?”

  “That’s madness,” Kensen said. “There’s no way you can do this. You’re just one human.”

  “I’m an augment, remember?” she said. “I’ll figure it out.”

  Another person joined Kensen, and the holo expanded to include Lyn. The woman’s face lit up with delight. “Siena! Are you okay? Where are you?”

  “Is that Siena?” a voice called, and suddenly several others joined the holo, crowding the sensors. On Siena’s end, they all but surrounded her. Quis, Lyn, Inary, Rahnora, and even Begle and Bort. Teridon was visibly annoyed.

  “I’m alive,” Siena said, smiling at their excitement.

  “She’s on the Kildor,” Kensen said. “Malikin has all three Bright’Lors and Reklin. She’s going after them.”

  “If I don’t, the Burning Ghosts will own us all,” she said.

  “Maybe that would be better,” Quis said.

  “No,” Worg said flatly. “The Ghosts are brutal.”

  Siena heard a set of footfalls and muted the sound, but they passed the cargo bay and continued on. Her heart hammering, she unmuted her friends. “I don’t know how long I can keep this beamcast open,” she said. “Kensen, can you put the full ship’s schematics into my holoview?”

  “Since when did you get a holoview?” Kensen asked.

  Siena thought of Ravel and shook her head. There wasn’t enough time to even begin to describe the shapeshifter. “I just do. Can you do it?”

  “Hold it up to the panel,” he said. “I’ll use the beamcast to hack the cortex.”

  She did as he requested, and the holographic controls flickered and lines of code appeared, blurring in quick sequence. The rest of the panel unlocked, and then the holoview embedded in her wrist warmed a degree.

  “Wherever you got your holoview, it’s a thing of beauty,” Kensen said. “I’ve never seen coding so dense.”

  “Did you get in?” Siena asked.

  “Woah.” Kensen’s eyes were unfocused.

  “What?” Quis demanded.

  “The Kildor is epic,” Kensen said. “There’s enough firepower on the ship to stand against a capital dreadnaught.”

  “What’s the crew complement?” Inary asked.

  “Why?”

  Worg flicked him on the back of the head. “Because that’s what matters to her, stupid.”

  Rubbing his head, Kensen nodded. “Right. Let’s see. It’s…two hundred and forty-six. A hundred dakorians, and the rest are krey engineers, fighter pilots, and officers.”

  “Any elite teams?” Siena asked.

  “Two,” Kensen said. “Both Shards like Reklin.”

  “How many slaves?” Lyn asked.

  Kensen squinted and muttered to himself for a moment. “Looks like another hundred. The ship can handle more, but I don’t think it’s full.”

  An idea formed in Siena’s mind, and she toyed with the prospect. She understood the risks, but under the circumstances, it was far better than her original plan of waiting until Ero and the others were alone. The longer she stayed on the ship, the more likely she would be discovered, and if she was noticed she would be as good as dead.

  “Can you open a beamcast to Lavana?” Siena asked.

  “Of course,” he said. “But why?”

  “Just do it.”

  She opened the newly installed schematics of the ship and a holo appeared above her arm. Twisting the signals, she marked the Gate Chambers, then the one closest to the cargo bay. That chamber was just one deck down and a short distance towards the stern. Lavana’s figure appeared, her large frame taxing the holo emitters and making the others flicker.

  “Siena,” she drawled, “I see you managed to survive. Again.”

  The woman looked amused, and Siena hoped that was a good sign. She briefly described her position on the Kildor, and that Ero, Skorn, Dragorn, Reklin, and Mora were all captive on the bridge. By the time she was finished, the woman’s features had hardened.

  “The Burning Ghosts handed my son to Malikin?”

  “For control of the augments.” Siena nodded.

  “If I get my hands on Visika, I will kill her with her own horns,” she spat.

  “She’s already gone,” Siena said. “But I think we can get Reklin back.”

  “How?” she demanded.

  “Kensen, could you open a Gate here without it being discovered on this end?” Siena asked.

  Her friends, several of which were arguing, all went quiet. A slow smile spread on Kensen’s face. “How many do you want to bring?”

  Siena’s smile was grim. “An army.”

  Quis and Tana crowed, and Begle and Bort were nodding. Lavana’s expression had turned to a frightening hunger. She called to someone out of view, and a moment later Kevent pressed into the already crowded holo.

  “Get every dakorian old enough to carry a weapon,” Lavana said. “They have five minutes to assemble.”

  “Where are we going?” Kevent asked.

  Lavana drew her own gravity hammer. “To war.”

  Kevent began to laugh as he sprinted out of view. Lavana returned her attention to Siena. “Give us a Gate. We’ll be there.”

  “Us too,” Begle said. “There’s no way I’m missing this fight.”

  In a testament to how much Lavana had come to respect the human augments, Lavana did not refuse the presence of humans. Instead she tapped the hammer on the floor, brightening its kinetic storage. “Don’t be late, human.”

  As Lavana ended the beamcast, Lyn turned away. “I’ll get those with combat training together.”

  “I’ll open the Gates,” Kensen said.

  “I’ll get a weapon,” Tana said.

  Their eagerness surprised Siena, but then realized she should expect nothing less. She’d trained alongside them, bled alongside them. If Malikin and the Burning Ghosts controlled their world, none of them would be safe. Deep down she knew they would rather see Dragorn, and probably Skorn, dead, but Ero they could not sacrifice. Nor would they leave Reklin and Mora behind.

  “I’m hacking into the interior security feeds now,” Kensen said. “No one is nearby.” He then frowned. “It seems there’s an emergency Gate in the cargo bay. It’s not linked to the regular monitoring cortex because it’s connected to a different protocol. Bringing it online now.”

  A whisper of metal on metal came from the center of the cargo bay, and Siena spun to see an arch rising from the floor. The pieces were disjointed at first, but gravity leashes pulled them into place, assembling the arch. Then the Gate brightened, and the holo of Siena’s friends disintegrated. Siena hurried to the Gate as Kensen himself walked through. She engulfed him in an embrace.

  “In case I don’t get another chance to say it,” he murmured, “I love you.”

  Siena nodded. “I love you, too. But let�
��s come out of this alive, shall we?”

  He grinned. “Of course.”

  Tana came through the Gate, a flak scattershot in her hands. Begle and Bort came through and immediately drew heat from the air, the energy coursing through their flesh and into the fingers to form stubby hammers of fire. Then Lyn, Rahnora, and the dakorians arrived. The soldiers marched through the portal armed to the horns. Lavana came herself, with armor across her body and her charged hammer on her back. She carried an energy shield, the rim burning bright red as she crossed the floor to Siena.

  “How many did you bring?” Siena asked as dakorians poured through the Gate.

  “Anyone I could gather quickly.” Lavana slung the hammer over her shoulders, her smile sending a chill through Siena’s blood. “Give us a direction and we’ll do the rest.”

  Siena surveyed the group of augments and dakorians, shoulder to shoulder, ready to fight the Empire. For Reklin. For her. A chill swept across her skin. Malikin might own the most powerful ship in the fleet, but it would not be enough.

  As the group geared up to fight, Siena turned to Kensen. “Show me the ship.”

  “You have a plan?” he asked.

  “I think so.”

  Kensen opened the holo, and the ship schematics expanded until it was large enough she could walk through the hull. Four kilometers long, the ship had a class-fourteen ion cannon threaded down the center of the ship, the same size used on Heltorgreathian-class dreadnaughts. Two class-eight plasma launchers lay alongside the primary ion, the giant heating rods extending from the bow. Behind the two plasma cannons were two hangar bays with Ro fighters, while the belly of the ship contained the cargo bay, where Siena’s boarding party was arriving.

  “Where is Malikin holding them?” Siena asked.

  Kensen flicked his fingers and frowned. “They’re all on the bridge.”

  The bridge sat atop the ship, directly above the primary weapon on deck sixteen. Siena searched the schematics until she located what she wanted, then pointed to a series of quarters located under the starboard plasma cannon housing.

  “How many are in the barracks?” she asked.

  Kensen zoomed in, and the holo expanded to show the line of chambers, including a training holochamber, a recreation room, and a dedicated mess hall. He muttered to himself as he flicked his fingers through the air. Then he nodded.

  “The Kildor operates a rotating duty roster, with thirty dakorians scattered throughout the ship at any one time, operating in teams of three. A second group is in the barracks on a sleep cycle, and the third is on a training rotation. The last few are command officers. All can be called up in case of combat.”

  Kensen rotated the holo to the opposite side of the ship, focusing on the krey barracks located beneath the port plasma cannon housing. “The krey operate a matching duty roster, with the bulk working and living here, while a third of the crew is on duty.”

  Alina frowned and pointed to the holo. “When Reklin and I infiltrated this ship, it only had a skeleton crew. Probably to maintain secrecy. Now the barracks are packed.”

  “It’s a strike force,” Worg said. “Malikin must be planning on going straight to Lumineia after he breaks Ero and Skorn.”

  “So sixty dakorians are in the barracks now?” Siena glanced at the dakorians Lavana had brought. There were not enough. Not even with the augments.

  “Probably,” he said. “The Kildor seems to be on medium alert, so they’re waiting for something.”

  “Can you close the doors that access the barracks?”

  “I can, but it won’t last long.”

  “We don’t need it to.” Siena pulled the holoview wider and focused on the six onboard gravity drives, each located in a central ring, like an elliptical belt around the starship. They connected to each other through large power conduits, and from the little Siena had studied, they operated as a single, collective power source. “Tana?”

  The girl joined Siena. She was dressed for combat in a black shirt and pants, her scattershot slung over her shoulder. The explosive rounds would be deadly in the corridors of a starship.

  “If you can get here”—she pointed to a location on the ship—“can you funnel power through this connection beneath the bridge?”

  “Of course. But why?”

  Before she could answer, Kensen cursed. The fear and shock were so sudden that everyone in the room turned and looked at him. The color had drained from his face when he looked up at Siena.

  “We have a problem.”

  “What?” she asked.

  In answer, Kensen pointed to the broad cargo bay window. A projection Gate was appearing in space, its sheer size drawing gasps from the augments. The next moment a massive ship glided through the opening—and continued to come. Giant, silver, and shaped like a ten-kilometer sunderblade, it passed into regular space and revealed the ship’s name on the hull.

  “Magnifying the name,” Kensen said.

  “No need,” Inary said, her hands tightening on her hammer lance. “That’s God’s Hammer, the flagship of the Imperial fleet. That’s the Emperor’s ship.”

  More curses swept the room, and the expressions on the dakorians turned grim. Siena experienced a blinding moment of fear. The Emperor? Here? And she was stupid enough to try and fight him. But then she thought of Reklin, Ero, and Mora, and she clenched her jaw.

  “This changes nothing,” she said.

  “Are you mad?” a dakorian said. “This is the Emperor we’re talking about.”

  “And I’m the only one he’s going to see.” Siena raised her chin, daring them to respond. “Lavana, split your soldiers up into teams of hunters. An augment will join each team, and you’ll take down the soldiers on patrol. Kensen will keep anyone in the barracks locked up.”

  Lavana was nodding. “That leaves just the bridge.”

  Siena nodded to Tana. “Leave that to me.”

  “I’m not leaving my daughter to them,” Inary said. “I’m going with you.”

  “And me,” Kevent said.

  Lavana hefted her hammer. “The three of us are going after Reklin and Mora. Whether you like it or not.”

  Siena was about to argue, but the glint in her eyes made it clear she had no choice. “Then we assault the bridge together,” she said. As she scanned the room and found every eye on her, she felt the weight of their lives. But this was not the time to retreat.

  “Lumineia didn’t start as our home,” she said slowly, “but that is what it has become. House Bright’Lor is the shield that protects us from the Empire. If we do not save our friends, the Emperor will be our new owner. And they will grind us all into the ground. Dakorian and human, we are just objects to be used and discarded. But today we tell them we are more than just slaves, and why they should fear what we have become.”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Ero instinctively pressed himself against the T-Straint, as if an extra inch would allow his eyes to behold the entirety of the tremendous starship exiting hyperlight. God’s Hammer made the Kildor look like an escape pod.

  “Incoming beamcast,” the communications officer called. “Requesting to board.”

  “Granted,” Malikin said. “Open the bridge Gate.”

  An arch embedded into the floor twisted and lifted free. Rising and rotating, the Gate glowed to life as it made the connection. Every officer in the room straightened, including Reklin. Ero guessed that after a lifetime in the military, it was an ingrained reaction.

  The first through the Gate were two Bloodwalls, both dressed in ceremonial gold armor. Imperial guards. Two more followed, and then a trio of human slaves. Women with bowed heads. They wore fine silk garments threaded with gold filament that spilled light across the floor. Then a single krey exited the portal.

  Tall and broad-shouldered, the krey was dressed in black and silver, and wore a cloak that shimmered gold. He had a pious air, and his black eyes seemed to perceive and instantly dismiss everyone in the room. The four Bloodwalls flanked a path,
two looking out, two looking in, and he advanced through them until he reached Malikin.

  “Voice Malikin,” he said in a deep, disturbing voice, “I am pleased.”

  “Your Excellency,” Malikin said, and swept a grand arm to the five T-Straints. “I present to you the last members of House Bright’Lor.”

  The Emperor smiled faintly as he looked from Skorn and Ero to Dragorn. “Dragorn,” he said, “I have waited a long time for this moment. I will relish it for many years to come.”

  Ero had never met the Emperor in person, but the krey lived up to the expectation. He was every bit as imposing as he appeared in the vids. While most krey nobles took great pains to try and intimidate rivals, Dralik’s black eyes carried a legacy of blood, inspiring fear with a single glance. At a word, he could have his soldiers kill everyone in the room, including Malikin. The best part of his appearance was Malikin turning into a sniveling coward—a sight Ero would savor, if he lived beyond the day.

  “Three criminal krey, a hornless, and a whelp.” The Emperor regarded the captives and chuckled. “You are a sorry group to have eluded me for so long.”

  “We live to disappoint,” Ero said.

  “Indeed.” The Emperor paused at Reklin. “From the others I expected such behavior, but you are the biggest disappointment. A Shard captain. How far you have fallen.”

  Reklin remained silent, his expression cold.

  The Emperor chuckled again, the sound like seracrete grating over seracrete. He drifted to the small T-Straint, where Mora lay unconscious. He glanced to Malikin, who darted forward and kicked the girl in the leg. She roused with a jerk, her eyes passing over Malikin, the bridge, and the Emperor. Fear, and then anger, flashed across her features.

  “Touch me, my uncle gut you.”

  “Such defiance,” the Emperor scolded before moving on to Skorn. “Intelligent and skilled,” he drawled, as if Skorn was little more than a decoration in a shop. “But ultimately flawed.” Skorn sneered, but the Emperor was already passing Ero. “The lucky one with little value.” He then stopped in front of Dragorn. “And the ambitious father who never learned how to accept defeat.”