“Contact them, Inspector,” Dunkat said, not turning to look at the man. “Tell them we request permission to board. And, if they refuse,” he added, “then lock them down and gas them.”
The man swallowed hard, and hailed them.
Dunkat waited patiently, letting each of his muscles relax in preparation for action. He had no intention of leaving without his prize, no matter the cost.
i
“This is government inspection team 542, please open your docking bay,” the comm unit hummed.
“This contract is starting to be more trouble than it’s worth,” Cailan said, leaning into his seat.
He pushed two entry numbers on his side-arm panel. “Avienne, Ardin, take care of them and show them what they need to see to get them out of our hair, without hassle.”
A second passed and Avienne’s voice came over the speaker. “I’ll head there now,” her voice was crisp and clear like a fresh winter morning, even with the static. “Ardin’s on his way to the bridge with a guest who insists on seeing you.”
The line went dead and Travan looked at Cailan with what the captain now knew was the engineer’s sceptical look, although anyone else would simply see a blank expression.
“This mission just keeps on getting more interesting,” the engineer offered and Cailan allowed himself a chuckle. Travan was not known for his sense of humour, but Cailan knew the old engineer had more of one than most people. He just chose not to display it.
“Captain,” Ardin said as he stepped on the bridge, but Cailan’s eyes were drawn immediately to the tall man behind him. He was dark, older, and something dangerous sparked in his eyes. Cailan would still have recognized him, had he a hundred more years and a thousand more scars on him.
The old engineer hissed, and Cailan knew he, too, had recognized the newcomer. Ardin looked from one to the other in surprise. He was too young to remember the man who stood behind him, but swift enough to realize he might be dangerous. Ardin stepped to the side.
Cailan stood slowly. Had he been a superstitious man who believed ghosts could return from the dead, he would have played out this scenario a hundred times in his head and been ready for its eventuality. But, he had not believed in ghosts.
“Captain Cailan,” the tall man said, bowing his head slightly with respect. Cailan nodded in return, choosing not to salute. It had been too long since he had been required to do so, and he found himself too rusty to lift his hand to anyone in that manner.
“My condolences for Captain Malavant,” the man continued, nodding to Ardin. The young man’s eyes widened with shock.
“He’d have been happy to see you, Captain Mistolta,” Cailan said. “He never did fully understand the little…mix up.”
Zortan nodded, offering no explanation.
The decisions Cailan had made in his youth, decisions for which he hoped time had forgiven him, kept creeping up on him in his old age. He sighed; he wanted little more than a peaceful existence. Cailan looked toward Ardin, his dead friend’s son, and felt as if the chasm that had always been widening under his feet would swallow all of
Destiny
. He wondered what Layela Delamores looked like. He pictured her like her mother.
He focused on Zortan again. “Captain Malavant believed in you to the end, even if it cost him his life.” Captain Mistolta returned his gaze. His eyes were black coals that ignited the old fires within Cailan.
“What?” Ardin asked, looking to Cailan. The old captain wished the youth wasn’t here. Ardin wasn’t aware that his father had died in the line of duty, or even that he had had a duty. For all Ardin knew, they had always been smugglers, and the ship had always been so worn. He noticed Travan had moved closer to Zortan, a fact he was certain had not escaped the captain of the Royal Guards.
He wanted to throw Zortan in prison. The orders to do so, issued twenty years ago, remained fresh in his mind. Those orders had cost them all so much. But time had passed, and the need to know what secrets Zortan held outweighed the old orders. Cailan’s loyalty to Radin Malavant was still strong, reinforced every day by the strength of his greatest legacy: Avienne and Ardin.
Cailan knew why Zortan had chosen the
Destiny
for this mission and why he chose to be here now. He didn’t understand his sense of timing but, then again, Cailan was old enough to realize that many of the greatest questions of his life would go unanswered. In the meantime, he knew what needed to be done.
“To Mirial?” Cailan asked Zortan, with the informality of a question between friends. The captain looked deep into Cailan’s eyes, but Cailan did not flinch.
Destiny
was Cailan’s legacy and he had no intention of letting her go. Not without a fight.
He knew very little of Zortan, only that Radin and he had been like family once. That would have to do.
“Yes, but first we have to pick up someone else,” Zortan replied politely.
“Oh?” Cailan asked. At this point, he was sure, nothing else could surprise him.
“Yoma, Layela Delamores’ twin.”
Cailan was wrong; he was surprised.
Travan chuckled and Cailan wondered what was going through the old engineer’s mind. Maybe it was just joy of knowing that, after almost twenty years of exile, they were finally headed home.
C
HAPTER
18
J
osmere’s eyes shone
in the half-light, the Berganda slowly uncovering her hands as she looked intently at Layela. The flower girl saw the flutter of unspoken words in those eyes, a jumbled mixture of apology and question. But Josmere voiced nothing, and Layela did not inquire.
Determination glowed in Josmere’s deep eyes and in her every graceful movement, the same determination that always empowered the Berganda before a dangerous caper. Layela was the one to break the silence.
“What changed your mind?” her whisper fell into the whirlpools of Josmere’s eyes, their depth amplified by the lack of the characteristic shrug.
“I guess being home confirmed one thing,” her own voice was also a whisper, soothing Layela’s nervous senses. “You and Yoma are the only family I have left. And I don’t intend to lose either one of you.”
“I’m sorry I doubted you,” Layela said as she lifted her hands, breathing deeply to open up her mind.
“I’m sorry I doubted you, too,” Josmere whispered, words long awaited. As the green arms extended to reach her own, Layela stared at her fragile-looking limbs and knew with certainty:
I saw your death too, Josmere. The death of all Berganda.
She took a deep breath. Josmere paused and waited, their fingers barely an inch apart. Layela took another deep breath, closing her eyes and pushing those visions of death far away, as she had done for a long time. They were the only visions she never wished to see again, and the only ones that, amplified by a Kilita’s powers, still revisited her in little taunting pieces. It was enough to keep her from ever forgetting the feeling of her own mortality, stripped away from her a million times in what felt like a million years. Burning, flesh ripping, limbs breaking, drowning, falling...she had died every way, a million different lives becoming her own and then being torn away.
Instead, she focused on the darkness that had haunted her dreams for over a week; the darkness that had sent Yoma running. She held it in her mind, calling forth the only thing she knew of it, the only power she knew the vision possessed. Cold sweat trickled down her back as she invoked the terror again.
She opened her eyes. Even Josmere’s impossibly green gaze wasn’t enough to push back the darkness that waited impatiently at the edge of her mind.
Waited to consume her.
Layela reached out and grabbed Josmere’s hands. The green eyes widened and reflected her horror as the darkness washed over them both.
i
Avienne watched the small government team make its way into the tall bay of the
Destiny
. She smiled and approached them, her hair loose around her shoulders. In her hand, she firmly grasped a bottle from Lang’s supply, which she had recently found in the bay.
Her other hand held two narrow glasses. She remembered drinking from them, back when the crew of the
Destiny
had still believed in gatherings.
At the head of the party was a short man with white hair, followed by a tall, lanky youth with freckles. How young did they commission in their armies? The third man was further behind, so she concentrated on her immediate targets.
“Welcome!” Avienne smiled widely. “Can I offer you some fine Solarian wine? I purchased it two years ago and I’ve been waiting for the right occasion to open it. We so infrequently get visitors here!”
The inspector hesitated for a moment, taken aback by the reception. She was certain most smuggling ships did not look as clean and empty, and didn’t have a cute, peppy receptionist.
“We believe you have illegal passengers aboard, a human woman by the name of Layela Delamores and a Berganda known as Josmere.” Avienne let her arms and smile drop just a little bit. “Ah, no thank you, but kind of you to offer,” the inspector added, seeing her confused disappointment.
Why are all men so quick to assume that a cute girl can’t be smart, too? And why do I keep taking advantage of that?
Avienne let a kinder smile grace her lips. “Of course, you’re on duty. You’ll have to forgive me, my enthusiasm gets the better of me at times. Now, who did you say you were looking for?”
“Two escaped refugees, a human and a Berganda, as you know full well.” The third man joined them, his voice smooth but laced with poison. She turned to him and her smile vanished.
A colonel. A colonel of the Solarian army was onboard the
Destiny
.
“We’ll begin this way,” he said, brushing past her. The inspector and youth smiled apologetically as they followed. The colonel headed straight for the elevator, and Avienne sighed in relief.
“I’m afraid our elevators are offline,” she said to the colonel’s back. “With few legal contracts around, we’ve had to cut back our power while we wait for our next job,” she finished sweetly.
The colonel turned, his eyes narrowing. “You don’t fool me, girl.” Although he stood a few meters away, she could feel his warm breath on her. “Your ship is a smuggling ship with an incompetent crew, and you’re smuggling very wanted fugitives. You will cooperate or I will gas you.” He took a step closer. “And every sorry soul on board this ship.”
He stood right in front of her, tall and imposing, and her hand itched to feel the hilt of her knife. She kept her features as neutral as she could, but she doubted they hid her hatred.
“Now, where are the stairs?”
She forced a smile. “That way.” She pointed to the access panel, seeing little choice. He nodded and took the rungs easily, without hesitation or pause. He got off at the second floor.
Avienne swallowed hard and followed, just in time to see him turning down the hallway towards the girls’ room. The only lit hallway.
Not hard to pick up that trail!
She cursed herself for making it so easy.
The colonel methodically opened each door and flashed his light inside, analyzing every shadow before moving on. She frantically searched for ways to distract or stop him. If she attacked him, Solari would come down on them. He was too focused to be distracted, every movement calculated to maximize his search. And if she handed Layela and Josmere over, which she was considering, she had little doubt that the
Destiny
and all those onboard would forfeit their lives. That, and her brother would never forgive her.
Think!
Two more doors and he would be at the girls’ room.
Two more doors and there was nothing she could do.
She took a deep breath and debated breaking the bottle of champagne on his head, or just drinking it. The first option would prove painful, the second painless. And yet, she’d still probably choose the first option.
Better to go down fighting than drinking.
She clenched her teeth and prepared to attack.
i
Layela’s mind exploded with light over and over again, without pause. She gripped Josmere’s hands tighter and wished she could close her eyes against the light. The world spun and hurled her forward, her queasy stomach trying to break away. She crossed a thousand galaxies, round and round, colliding into stars, being absorbed by black holes, losing herself in the thick, inky darkness.
She flew for an eternity, until the circles lessened and she realized she had come to the centre of the worlds she had been shown. It was a star, old and worn, its light and energies cold and almost spent. As if seeing her, it sighed, and in its exhaled breath it unleashed a terrible darkness that ripped through the world around her. Even in the vast vacuum of space, the screams still echoed.
The star was old and broken and it now climbed the horizon before her, its light too weak to warm her skin. Layela smiled as she felt a familiar presence by her side.
Yoma,
she thought. Her sister smiled back at her, her eyes not the deep greens of Josmere’s, but the light green of daylight striking the ocean. Layela felt safe and filled with confidence.
The two walked in unison. She looked down and saw that they were on a bridge, a high sturdy bridge, and before her spread a temple, its old stones gleaming as if bleached by sunlight. The symbol above the temple caught her eyes, an intricate flower hugging a sun. Her awakened mind tugged at her.
You know this
.
i
Dunkat was not fooled by the redheaded girl. Layela dwelt somewhere on this ship, or it held other secrets, and he was willing to bet he was near them. The girl’s posture was becoming tenser with each door he opened and, although he made a good show of exploring each shadow, he was really watching her.
She still held that bottle in her hands, had a gun strapped to her waist, and he had caught sight of a few knives littered about her body. Enough to show him she was dangerous and to suggest that she intended to deal with him before he found her ship’s secrets. He fought the urge to smile. He was growing impatient with the girl’s lack of speed.