The Empress Capsule (Audacity Saga Book 1), page 2
Ellen waved it off. “We did what we could. And we gave these Therokis hell. Let’s go.” They headed to their exit.
“A seventh one?” Nova stepped over another Theroki form that’d been farther from the grenade. Only one armored boot stuck out from behind a half wall.
“Seven in a unit? Odd formation,” Zhia mumbled.
“He’s probably got less time on his clock, further back and with that half wall blocking the punch. I didn’t program for that distance,” Nova said.
Ellen nodded sharply. “Let’s not be here when he wakes up cranky.”
“Right on, Commander.”
Kael gasped for breath and sat straight up, smacking his helmet into a steel laboratory table before collapsing again. He groaned. His lungs might have briefly stopped, with the way he found himself aching to breathe. Growling, he grabbed the edge of the wheeled steel table and sent it careening through the air into the far wall. It crashed satisfyingly into the cell force fields with dull blue buzzes of irritation.
There. That made him feel slightly better.
He wasn’t going to live to be fifty at this rate. Hell, he’d be lucky if he made the two more years till thirty. Another reason he needed out. He wasn’t dying a Theroki, contract be damned. Not if he could help it. He’d had no choice about joining up with these thieves and murderers, just as he’d had no choice about joining the Gray Dragons of his youth.
Just once, he wanted a choice to be something other than a criminal.
He lurched upright, groaning again. Fragging knockout grenades. If their armor weren’t so damn old and crusty, they wouldn’t be in this position. Was that so much to ask? But no, his fool comrades preferred rust and snarled edges and looking tough. Sure, the savagery made some people shit their pants when Theroki showed up, but it couldn’t have much effect if your enemy took you out before they even walked in the room. They might as well have pounded their chests like gorillas. Now they were all on their asses, and whoever had just assaulted the lab was probably long gone and laughing the whole way.
Or they could still be here.
As reality rushed back in, he grabbed for his laser rifle and froze. Gone. Shit.
Listening, only silence met his ears. Maybe some dust settling somewhere from the earlier attacks.
He stood slowly, still struggling to regain his breath. Sweat dripped down his forehead. Fragging armor cooling unit must have broken in the grenade blast too. Great. Damn this infernal rock. Damn this whole mission. Damn all the Theroki while he was at it. And the Enhancers too.
He scanned the scene. The six who’d been in charge of the evac were all laid out. Dead, or just unconscious? Hmm, odd timing. How had anyone known this bunker was even here? The only newcomers for the last half year had been those six.
One of these damned drecks must have led them here. Or sold the information to the highest bidder. He hoped they were dead if they were fragging traitors. Who else could have given away their location?
Kael stilled as he spotted his primary concern. Enhancer High Command Lord Regent Jun Il Li was just as much unconscious. He lay on the lab floor, hands splayed, eyes closed.
Unconscious—or dead? Li was supposed to have knockout-protection gear. Kael swallowed as a spike of adrenaline shot through him. It’d been his charge to protect the lord regent. If he’d failed—
No. He should stop thinking about it and go check before he went supernova and stormed after their attackers in a blind, blood-mad rage. That was about as stupid as not upgrading your armor, but he’d seen plenty a Theroki charge to a gory, preventable death because of their unique upgrades and artificial wiring. He’d prefer not to beckon such a fate. Deep, slow breaths. Calm.
Heart pounding in spite of his attempts, he crept closer, crouching and listening carefully again for anyone in the vicinity. He grabbed the nearest rifle, one so dirty and uncared for that it looked barely functional. Idiots. Then again, why worry about knockout grenades if you treated your rifle so badly it wouldn’t fire? There was a reason—or ten—that Kael’s survival record was among the top fifteen percent.
He listened a moment longer. The hostiles seemed long gone. Who the hell had they been, anyway? One reason Theroki didn’t bother to upgrade their armor—other than the shock and awe, of course—was that knockout grenades were insanely expensive. He hadn’t shopped for one in a long time, but he was fairly sure you could trade one for a small one-man ship. Considering how the grenade had dealt with him and his colleagues, the high price made sense. The price would likely be even higher if nonlethal force were in higher demand, but many military forces had no problem with just killing everyone. Of course, unconscious people were especially easy to kill.
The grenade should give him clues about the attacking force—high-tech and well funded, at the very least. And for some reason, not interested in a massacre. Hmm.
As he approached, he could see the lord regent’s eyes twitching beneath his eyelids, as though lost in some dream. Kael swallowed hard. Puritan attackers, maybe? They’d likely infected and killed him with some heinous but perfectly naturally occurring bug. His fingers twitched, tempted to curl into a fist. Puritans and their sick sense of poetic justice. They wouldn’t genetically engineer anything to save their lives—quite literally—but they’d happily murder you with a naturally occurring horror. Brain-melting bacteria from Sali IV had been a favorite as of late, according to Theroki and Enhancer reports. Upon closer inspection, a tiny red puncture marred Lord Regent Li’s neck. Sure sign of injection.
Kael might not have much time. Throwing caution aside, he set down the worn rifle and shook Li’s shoulders, smacked his face once. Then harder.
Li’s eyes flickered open. For a moment, he gazed around, dazed and unfocused, as if searching for a room that was no longer there. Then finally his eyes rested on Kael.
“You.”
“Tridelphi Kael Sidassian, sir.”
“I know you.” Li’s eyes narrowed, and he looked hardly sure of that assertion.
“I’ve been guarding you for the last six months on this station. We were about to evac when we were attacked. Do you remember?”
The lord regent seemed to become aware of his surroundings suddenly, taking in the fallen Theroki around him. Then he raised his hands to gaze at his open palms, staring, mystified. “What’s… wrong with me?”
“I believe they injected you with something, sir. While I was knocked out. My apologies, Lord Regent. Can I get you to a hospital? The evac ship isn’t due to land for six more hours.” Kael bowed as low as he could, perched on one knee, wincing inside the helmet where Li could not see. When he straightened, Li’s eyes were filled with rage, maybe at him, maybe at the attack. Maybe both.
“No time for that. You have failed the task you were commissioned for, Tridelphi. I demand you undertake another to repay this debt.”
“It might not be fatal, sir—”
“I assure you, it is.”
Kael pressed his lips together but didn’t argue. Li was within his contract.
Parting his robes, Li narrowed his eyes, struggling to focus. The cloth slid aside to reveal a thigh. Li pressed just above the knee, and skin slid under other skin, almost soundlessly. Damn—was the whole leg artificial, or was it only partially cybernetic? And here Kael had thought he’d been the lone cyborg on this rock for so long. Well, perhaps one leg didn’t qualify you as anything but having a prosthetic limb. Depended on the functionality.
This was probably not the time to quiz Li on his hardware.
Li’s fingers drew out a smooth silver canister just smaller than three grenades lined up in a row. Tiny green lights winked in and out around its middle. Li checked the side of the cylinder, then held it up to Kael.
“I can feel my memory failing, Theroki. Take this.”
Kael gritted his teeth. Work with a man for months, and you’d think he’d start calling you by your first name. A name he damn well knew. But perhaps he shouldn’t be surprised by condescension from anyone whose title was so overblown. Or perhaps that part of his brain had already melted.
Either way, Kael reached out and took the canister gingerly in his gauntleted hand.
“This canister contains gene documentation and backups on the Empress Project.” Li stopped for a moment, looking like he would pass out, but then gathered himself and continued. “As well as an experimental fetus of the empress herself.”
Kael leaned back on his haunches, staring at the canister with a mixture of horror and awe. A child was in there? How old? Older than his and Asha’s had been once? He shoved the painful thought aside. It didn’t matter. Asha had died and the baby and all his futures with her.
“Take it to Enhancer High Command on Desori. Her mother is there. They wanted to be reunited in the end. Please. As you’ve killed me, I’m sure you can agree our family deserves that much.”
In the end? Kael glared under the cover of the helmet. Technically Li wasn’t even dead yet, but he was sure slathering the guilt on thick.
People from all over the galaxy would be hunting this—a copy of the Enhancer empress’s genes? This was bad. Very, very bad.
If anyone knew such a thing existed and was in his hands, he’d have the biggest target in the galaxy on his back. Rumor was the genes had been lost, though. How many knew the truth?
Enough to pay off some Theroki and organize a strike on this lab?
He could stall. He could insist on getting Li to medical care or simply hang around to make sure the man was dying at all. On the other hand, Enhancer monarch or no, Li claimed there was a woman out there who would like her daughter back, at least the embryo of her. That seemed a noble goal, the kind he’d hoped he’d get more of when he’d been forced into the Theroki ranks. He’d been optimistic, naive about the real nature of his situation then. Assignments with any virtue had been few and far between.
Beyond that, transporting the canister would justify him running off on his own. It could buy him time while he figured out what he wanted to do about his current predicament, his secretly damaged chip. The evac team had not yet noticed. No one knew but him. And Vala, of course. He ought to be back on the Genokai mothership by the end of the week, explaining himself. There would be no keeping his damaged chip a secret then; all repairs would be made with brutal and painful efficiency.
If they believed him that it was a random glitch. A maintenance slip. If they didn’t, well…
This capsule, however, was a way out. A delay. A covert mission directly from the lord regent meant he wouldn’t need to report back at all. Not until the mission was complete.
“Of course, Lord Regent,” he said. He smiled.
“It must reach there within six weeks or the fetus will grow too large for the capsule. Now give me your oath,” Li demanded.
Kael sighed and hoped it didn’t come across the mic. “Sir, it’s not necessary—”
“Yes. It is. You’ve already failed me once, Theroki.”
Twice, maybe, but Kael wasn’t going to point that out. The damage he’d allowed to come to his Theroki controller chip should be considered a failure, although it probably hadn’t contributed to this attack. Probably. Vala might have turned out to be a Puritan operative when she’d betrayed him, but he’d told her nothing of those he protected in the end. Nothing more than what she’d already known by getting hired. He’d managed that much.
He sighed. “Fine. Engaging.” He raised his gauntlet, flipped up the first and second panels to find the commission-oath control, and pressed it. “I will do all in my power to deliver this canister to EHC and the empress’s mother within six weeks, starting now.” He released the control. An uncomfortable switch shifted in his back where his unit rested near his shoulder blades, neatly attached to his spine and, through it, his brain.
He was signed on now. He’d get that capsule to Desori X or die trying. He just hoped he wouldn’t have to kill too many who got in the way. He had enough innocent blood on his hands for one lifetime.
Li relaxed and slumped back to the ground. “Don’t fail me again, Theroki.”
“I won’t, sir.” Kael straightened, but hesitated. He hated to leave anyone to die alone. Although Li’s experiments did have a brutal streak, and that was saying something, coming from a Theroki.
A groan from his left made Kael start and grab for his rifle, but it was just one of the evac team stirring. Good, they weren’t dead. They could deal with Li shortly.
Strange, though. Puritans would have killed them. Puritans would also have been hard-pressed to afford knockout grenades. Who had attacked then, if not the Enhancer’s primary enemy? The Union? Some corporation? Mercs?
“Should I guard you or be on my way, sir?”
Li waved him off, like shooing a fly. “Get on your mission. Be gone, Theroki, and leave me to Chaos.”
“I’m sure you won’t—” he started.
Li made a noise of disgust. “I did not hire you for spiritual advisement. Leave me to my misery.”
Kael pressed his lips together behind the mask of the helmet. Some people just didn’t want to be helped. He slid the capsule in his armor pack and jogged out, heading for the space port.
None of the station mechanics in their graying jumpsuits paid Kael any mind, striding in both directions past him where he stood at the lightboard. A hot, wavering wind harassed the breezeway between the ship docks and the terminal, drawing far more attention than he did. Truth be told, the mechanics were probably deliberately pretending not to notice him. No one wanted to get tangled up with his type, especially not on a base as morally flexible as this one.
Kael needed a way off Helikai and not with anyone from that evac team. The evac ship hadn’t yet arrived, thankfully, but it would touch down in just over five hours now. That meant he needed passage on any ship lifting off before then—any ship that would take him. A freighter or other civilian ship would be ideal, recommended protocol when one needed to lay low. And who else would need a hired gun? ’Cause he certainly didn’t have coin to pay for passage all the way to Desori. The damn rust bucket weapon he’d nicked from the evac team wouldn’t be doing him any favors.
Kael flicked irritably through the lightboard menus, the ancient interface struggling to detect his gaze through his helmet’s visor. Apparently this lightboard was even older than his armor. Hard to believe, but true. Then again, private, small-time bases like this one didn’t have the resources of the big Union or Puritan planets to update their infrastructure in a timely fashion.
His gaze jumped from list to list until the lightboard failed and he had to grab at it like some kind of caveman. These damn menus were deeper than the Zorak Trench. He checked the air quality readout; his armor had found nothing contagious or particularly poisonous, aside from ordinary ship byproducts. He slammed the button to raise his helmet visor—no, retract the whole damn helmet—determined to get through the lists faster. Gauntleted hands were as dexterous as boxing gloves for this sort of thing.
There—the list of ships docked and the announcements they’d posted. He scratched his stubbled jaw and pushed a handful of hair out of his face now that the helmet was gone. Dirt-colored, tangled, sweaty, and nearly reaching his ears, his wild mane had grown unruly even for a Theroki. He needed a shave on more than just his chin.
He stopped searching, his gaze resting on the only option he’d found. None of the ships were hiring. A few were seeking cargo or local service jobs, but that wouldn’t get him off world.
Only one vessel was accepting passengers and leaving in the next five hours. He took a deep breath. He was going to have to get lucky, or he’d be stuck on that evac ship and trying to grow eyes on the back of his head like some kind of Enhancer assassin. Of all the stupid ways to die as a Theroki, he definitely didn’t want to go down to a knife in the back. Especially not in the hand of a traitor.
A blast of the burning, metallic wind hit him, the scent of vomit mixed with ship exhaust and fuel fumes. He slammed the helmet button again. It snapped closed around his face, the sound always jolting him like a just-missed smack in the face. The smell of this place was one of the many things he would not miss.
He squinted at the lightboard, hesitating a moment longer. Luck was never something on his side. If he needed it now, he was likely walking into a shitshow.
Well, he had no choice yet again. He’d have to try this… what was the name?
Was that right? No, that couldn’t be the ship name.
Greenish letters glowed in the air inches from his face, floating defiantly over the blur of a redik bar and a heavy-weapons shop beyond.
Audacity. Dock C5. Passage available to Elpi VI. 7 days, 500 c.
Great. Just great. Audacity? Really?
With a name like that, he was doomed to die on this shit hole of a rock. Probably some trigger-happy cowboy that’d get him killed.
Grunting to himself, he headed toward the ship at a jog. The black volcanic stone beneath his armored boots shook from the touchdown of a new ship. Thankfully, it didn’t look like any Theroki vessel for evac. Most likely a Union ship, from the shouts and screeching of metal on metal coming from the east. How convenient. Unionies always needed to stick their nose in every little thing. An Enhancer canister would make a fine prize for some snotty Union lieutenant.
Over Kael’s literally dead body, of course.
Dock C5 wasn’t far, across the breezeway, onto the docks, and toward the small ship that hunkered down there. The “docks” were only lines of white paint on the black rock marking off a vaguely ship-sized area. From this short distance, the Audacity looked well cared for, if a bit virginal. No insignia or emblems adorned her sides or marked her affiliation, but she had the gleam of raw, bleeding edge tech. A new ship or something? She was probably 100 to 150 meters long and could carry maybe fifty. A good transport, or a hauler, although it did have a few tells that it might be something more: bristling weaponry and at least two gun turrets, one fore and one aft. Not a large ship, but not tiny either. And not one of the standard builds you saw everywhere. She didn’t have the rough, unkempt look of a pirate’s ship—not that he was one to criticize—or the rusty, aching hull of a death trap, so he continued on toward the open cargo hatch and its yawning ramp.
