Chapter Seventeen

Tantos System

The false security troops hesitated for a moment at Midaia’s sudden appearance, and then levelled their weapons at her. “Out of the way, lady,” one of them said. “We’re not here for you, but don’t think we won’t shoot you to get at that creep behind you. This is your last warning.”

Though it was hard to tell from where he was standing, Pakorus got the distinct impression that Midaia was rolling her eyes. “Oh, please,” she said. “You’ve just seen what I can do, you must be now have some inkling of who – and what – I am, and you still think you can threaten me? That’s almost cute.”

The leader of the intruders scowled. “That’s it,” he growled. “The boss won’t care if we kill a couple of extras on the way, so long as we get Specter. Shoot her, now!”

Midaia sighed and raised her hands. “You could have avoided this,” she said, and then red light burst from her fingers in crackling waves. It struck the false security troops and then began arcing back and forth between them, their howls of agony echoing through the dim office. Pakorus watched them writhe, their expressions obvious rictuses of pain, and despite himself he found a horrified sympathy rising up within him. These men had come to kill Specter, and probably him too, but was this… this drawn-out torment really what they deserved? At least Specter’s killing had been quick.

Suddenly, his gaze fell to one of the attackers, who’d dropped to his knees and seemed to have avoided the worst of the attack. He pulled himself slowly towards Midaia’s side and raised his beam rifle; the black-clad Adept didn’t seem to have noticed him. His finger moved towards the trigger – and then he fell to the floor, a scorch-mark still smoldering in his back.

Pakorus lowered his beam pistol, hardly able to comprehend that he had been the one to shoot the man. Before he could process it, Midaia lowered her hands and the red light faded; the attackers crumpled, their bodies smoking. She walked over to the corpse of the leader and kicked it experimentally; it didn’t stir.

“Sorry about the mess,” she said. “There are only a few ways to kill directly with an Adept’s skills, unfortunately, and this is actually one of the more pleasant ones – the others are worse.” She paused, frowning at the attacker Pakorus had shot, and then looked up at the corner where he was standing, seeming to notice him for the first time. “And Pakorus ast Orlanes, if I’m not mistaken. It seems I owe you my life.”

“I-I guess so, Princess Midaia,” he managed to say.

Midaia looked down to the body, then back at Pakorus, understanding dawning in her eyes. “Is that the first person you’ve killed?” she asked; he nodded wordlessly. “I’m sorry you had to do that – and I’m sorry you had to see what I did to the others. And for the record, I renounced my claim to the throne a long time ago – it’s just ‘Midaia’, not ‘princess’ anything.”

“In any case, my thanks for dealing with my uninvited guests,” Specter said; Pakorus started to see the informant emerge from behind his screen, flanked by his two guards. As he had suspected, Specter was very tall and thin; he wore a suit similar to the style favored by guildsmen, though his was a dull grey rather than bright silver, and he wore a blank cloth mask of the same color over his face; it gave him a disconcerting resemblance to the Commander’s assassins. “As I said, your timing was impeccable.”

“Don’t thank me quite yet,” Midaia said. “Tantos Station is currently swarming with guild security; some of them are the real thing, but I expect many of them are the same sort of impostors as we just dealt with. Someone really wants you dead, old friend – though it’s entirely possible you’re not their only target.”

“I agree,” Specter said. “And I have a feeling I know why.” He turned to his guards. “How long before my security system is back up?”

One of the guards checked his wrist screen. “Looks like a couple hours, boss,” he said. “Whatever they used on it did its job good.”

“As I suspected,” Specter said, seeming to frown behind his mask. “I think that, perhaps, I should lie low for a while. Unfortunately, I still have business to conclude with Midaia. Though perhaps…” his voice trailed off, and then he walked over to stand by the Adept’s side. Their heads lowered, and they had a rapid, whispered conversation that Pakorus couldn’t overhear; then they both stood up and turned to look straight at him. The effect was disconcerting.

“I have an escape ship prepared for just such a contingency,” Specter said. “My guards and I will take it. Young Pakorus also needs to be escorted to safety, or I will never hear the end of it. If I may be so bold, Midaia, would you mind walking Master ast Orlanes back to his ship? I trust you’re familiar with my back doors; taking them will likely be safer.”

“Of course, I am,” Midaia said, seeming insulted that Specter felt like he had to ask. “And I would be perfectly willing to take Pakorus; we are going in the same general direction, after all.” Pakorus felt a prickling feeling on the back of his neck at her words; somehow, he got the feeling that the direction she meant wasn’t the way to the docking bays.

“In that case, I will take my leave until such time as things die down,” Specter said. He turned to Pakorus and bowed. “It was a pleasure doing business with you. My sincere apology that things ended in such a… crass manner.”

“Of- of course,” Pakorus stammered, bowing back. Specter gestured to his men to follow him and then vanished into a corridor behind his desk, one that led deeper into the bowels of the station. Pakorus watched him go, and then turned to his companion.

“We had best be off as well,” Midaia said. “I think I hear more of them coming.” She walked over to the office wall and began running her hands long it, murmuring to herself. Finally, she touched something that made her smile and tapped some sort of hidden release; at once a section of the wall slid open, revealing a hidden, dark corridor. “And here we are,” she said. She stood for a moment and then strode forward into the shadows, her dark cloak flapping behind her; Pakorus took a moment to draw a breath and then followed her. The door slid shut behind them.

Inside, the corridor was lit dimly enough that Pakorus could see, though not well. For a long, indeterminate span he followed Midaia in silence, gaze locked on the back of her robes. He’d known of her all his life – after all, his father had been one of the late Queen Aestera’s closest companions, and Midaia was her eldest daughter – but he himself had never known her, hadn’t even seen her in person until she’d shown up out of nowhere to kill one of the assassins on the day of the tournament, and then she hadn’t spoken to him. She’d already gone to live in a convent when he was born and had stopped visiting Carann altogether after her mother was assassinated. If Pakorus had ever met her before, he’d been a very small infant at the time and had no memory of the event.

“Thank you for coming with me,” he finally said, breaking the silence. “Though there’s no need; I’m fully capable of finding my way back to my fighter on my own.”

“If you tried, you’d probably already be dead,” Midaia said. “The attackers know now that you were the last person to consult with Specter, and they probably want to kill you just to tie up the loose end. But it’s no burden to me. Your father was like an uncle to me when I was small – does that make us almost cousins, in some roundabout way? And I hear my sister Artakane is fond of you; I don’t want to upset either of them. And you did, after all, save my life, or at least prevent an inconvenient injury. I honor my debts.”

She paused for a long moment before speaking again. “And also, Specter tells me that you have something I want – information, specifically. It seems you and I came to see him to get answers to the same questions.”

Pakorus felt a sudden chill. “You’re looking for information on the Commander too,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

Midaia’s hooded head nodded. “I am,” she said. “These people killed my mother, Pakorus. They tried to kill my sister, and very likely would have killed me had they been capable of making the attempt. I intend to find out who they are, and then I will make them pay. Specter told me he gave you information on a lead, stored on a drive. He also said that he suspects that the same person or persons behind the Commander is also responsible for the attack today. The technology that disabled his security system was not of a sort he’d seen before – and there’s not a lot that’s true of.”

“So, does that mean you’re going to take the drive from me before you let me go?” Pakorus asked, feeling outraged at the idea – though he was also aware that if Midaia did try to take it, there was very little he could do to stop her.

“Of course not,” she said. “What do you take me for, a common thief? My ship is docked not far from yours. We can stop there, and I can make a copy, and then you’ll be on your way. You can continue your investigation your way, and I’ll continue it mine.”

“Aren’t you worried that your ship might be attacked too?” Pakorus asked.

“There’s nothing on this station that is a threat to me,” Midaia said, and from the tone of her voice, it wasn’t an idle boast.

They walked in silence for some time more, the corridor taking several more twists and turns, before it finally ended in another door; Midaia made a gesture and there was a small flash of red light around her fingers, and the door slid silently open. They stepped out into a side hallway near Tantos Station’s main docking bays.

Pakorus took the lead. “My fighter’s near here,” he said. Midaia nodded and followed him as they made their way down the hall, finally emerging in a wide-open space, starlight gleaming ahead against a black backdrop visible behind a forcefield. A number of ships lay at rest in the bay, including his own fighter.

“Here we are,” he said, and then frowned. “Wait. I don’t like this. Where is everyone? Something’s wrong.”

“I agree,” Midaia said. “I think we should – wait. Get down, now!”

Pakorus’s body hit the floor just as she finished speaking, and suddenly the docking bay lurched and erupted into flames. He barely had time to register the though a bomb before the inferno was upon them. Midaia raised her hands, and suddenly they were enveloped in a hemisphere of red-glowing light. The heat of the fire was blunted; the force of the blast still partially came through. Midaia swayed on her feet but stayed standing. Pakorus was knocked onto his side; his head hit the metal deck, and he knew no more.

///

Latharna and the royal guards stumbled back into the waiting room to find the aftermath of a scene of chaos; the room was in shambles and the walls and furniture were scorched with blast marks. The forms of several guild security officers lay scattered around the edges, unconscious or dead she couldn’t tell, along with several living guildsmen the remaining guards were holding at gunpoint. She didn’t see any dead guards, though some were wounded and being supported by their fellows; their uniforms, flashy as they might seem in bright blue and gold, were designed to soak up a certain amount of blast fire.

She shifted Arta’s weight in her arms and turned to Lieutenant Rehan. “What happened out here?” she asked.

“About what you’d expect,” the lieutenant said, sighing. “We heard sounds of a struggle from inside the meeting room and then the guildsmen seemed to get some sort of order to fire on us; luckily we were ready for them. Guildmaster Madran bolted as soon as things weren’t going his way, the coward. What about in there? How is the queen? Is Her Majesty alright?”

Latharna looked down at Arta, unconscious but still breathing. “I think she was just stunned,” she said. “Duke Respen pulled a gun on her when she tried to make them surrender, and that started the fight. The dukes all got away, though. They probably went to get reinforcements.”

“Agreed,” Rehan said, nodding. “Let’s get out of here. Can you carry her? My people need their hands free in case they need to shoot someone.”

“I think so,” Latharna said; she and the guard lieutenant nodded at each other and then the whole company turned and began to hurry down the far hallway as fast as they could towards the bay where the shuttle was docked. As she ran, Latharna looked down at the unconscious body in her arms, worry rising in her heart. Was Arta alright? Would they be able to get her out of here in time?

Suddenly a soft groan rose from the queen’s lips and her eyes fluttered open, staring blearily up into Latharna’s. “My knight,” she whispered. “What happened?”

“Sateira shot you with a sonic blaster,” Latharna said. “We’re getting you out of here and heading back to the shuttle.”

“Good,” Arta murmured, her eyes closing again. “You know, I’m really starting to hate this planet. Every time I come here, people start shooting at me.” Then she let out a soft sigh and dropped off into unconsciousness once more.

As she did so, Latharna’s ears focused on the sounds coming from behind her, which resolved into the noise of dozens of running feet. Risking a glance over her shoulder, she saw several more security officers following them, accompanied by a larger number of soldiers in red and gold uniforms, and their head a young man and woman who looked remarkably like Darius ast Sakran. Those, she decided, must be his two siblings.

“We’re about to have company!” she shouted, turning back towards Lieutenant Rehan.

“On it,” the lieutenant said and gestured towards two of her guards. They spun on their heels and faced the oncoming enemy, pointing their beam rifles at the ceiling. They fired on what Latharna recognized as a high setting, raking the hallway’s roof and causing it to spill a small avalanche of debris, filling the corridor with rubble and smoke.

“We can’t fight that many, but that should at least delay them,” Rehan said. “We’re almost there – come on!”

They rounded another corner and emerged into the landing bay where their shuttle waited. A handful of guild security guards surrounded the boarding ramp, but Rehan gestured to her troops and they raised their beam rifles and fired, sending the guildsmen running and leaving a burning barrier scorched onto the floor. Rehan hurried aboard first, to alert the pilot to the situation and prepare the shuttle for takeoff; Latharna prepared to follow her when she suddenly heard the sound of many booted feet. Turning, she saw that the ast Sakran siblings had found another route – they rushed into the hangar, their troops fanning out behind them and levelling their beam rifles at the shuttle.

“You’re outnumbered and outgunned,” the girl – Tariti, if Latharna remembered right – said. “We don’t want to commit regicide today, but we will if we have to. Stand down, all of you, or we will open fire.”

Latharna handed Arta’s prone form to one of the other guards and then turned to face the attackers, standing at the end of the boarding ramp and drawing her dueling sword, which hissed with energy as she activated it. “If you want to get to Arta, you have to go through me first,” she said.

The young man, Galen, only laughed. “Oh really?” he asked. “And who are you, some jumped up landowner’s daughter who thinks she can be a knight?”

“She’s not even from the Dozen Stars,” Tariti said, frowning. “Listen to the accent – she’s Realtran, I’d bet anything on it. What’s she doing here? Couldn’t find work at home so she had to sell her sword in another kingdom? Tragic.”

“I’m the one who nearly beat your brother,” Latharna said, stalling for time. “And what will be tragic is what will happen to you if you don’t take a hint and let us go.”

“You fought Darius?” Tariti asked, incredulous.

“Ask him next time you see him,” Latharna said. “He gave me this cut, and I gave him one too, to remember me by.”

“I don’t believe her,” Galen snapped. “She’s trying to keep us talking. Soldiers, if she doesn’t stand down, shoot to kill.”

“Not so fast, Galen,” a weak voice said over Latharna’s shoulder; Arta stepped up beside her, unarmed but with her hands raised. Was it Latharna’s imagination, or were her palms glowing faintly blue? “Remember me?”

“You,” Galen snarled. “Like I’d ever forget how you humiliated me in front of half the kingdom. Well you’re not getting out of here this time. I promise you that!”

“Still like to gloat,” Arta said. “You’d have done better just to shoot me.” Her palms were definitely glowing now, and Latharna realized what was about to happen just before it did. The queen had been stalling the ast Sakrans too, just as she had been, but for a different reason.

Arta’s eyes suddenly burst into brilliant light, like a pair of cold blue stars; a wave of energy shot from her palms, striking the ast Sakrans and their troops and slamming them back into the hangar walls. Arta gave a great cry and collapsed; Latharna caught her once again, and then she and the remaining guards hurried up the boarding ramp before any of the enemy could recover; the ramp retracted, and the door shut behind her. As it did, she thought she could hear Galen ast Sakran bellowing curses and declaring that Katanes would burn for this.

“We’d better be ready to go, now!” Latharna shouted, sticking her head into the pilot’s cabin.

Lieutenant Rehan, seated in the copilot’s chair, looked over her shoulder and nodded. “Here we go!” she said. Beside her, the pilot flipped a few switches and the shuttle lifted into the air and turned towards the exit, which was blocked by a thick metal door. A few more switches and the shuttles beam cannons lowered from under its belly and opened fire, blasting a hole clear through the door; then the shuttle was out, flying free through Tantos III’s foggy sky.

“Strap in, people” the pilot said. “Next stop, Lion of Carann.”

“And we’d better get there fast,” Rehan said, looking over her instruments. “It looks like we’ve got guild fighters getting ready to launch from a nearby tower. This could be a bumpy ride.”

///

The skies above Tantos III blazed with light as the council’s fleet and the rebel fleet pounded at each other with heavy blast cannons. Mardoban could feel the Lion shake beneath him with each impact, but so far the great ship’s shields held, as did those of the Equestrian warships on both sides of the battle; such a combat was often one of attrition, each side trying to batter down the other’s defenses before the same happened to them. The smaller fighters and support craft weren’t so lucky; several on both sides now drifted dead through space, torn to pieces by enemy fire. Mardoban whispered a quiet prayer for the Lord to deliver their souls.

Increasingly, the council’s forces were at a disadvantage. Though they’d had superior numbers once their allies had been called in from the edge of the system, they had no more reinforcements in easy distance – though that was liable to change once the transmission confirming Respen and the other’s treachery had a chance to circulate more broadly. The rebels, on the other hand, were bringing up more forces from the planet and elsewhere in orbit, including guild security forces and a number of heavy warships from Aurann. Whatever Respen’s other faults as a leader, his reputation for funding a powerful military was well-earned; before long, the loyalists were going to be outnumbered and outgunned.

“We can’t take much more of this, Mardoban!” Duchess Vashata’s holoimage declared. “My shields are failing and are going to collapse completely if I take much more of a pounding. We need to call a retreat and wait for more reinforcements before we can break the occupation here.”

“I concur!” said Dion. “This is madness! How much longer are we to endure this?”

“Artakane is still down there, my friends,” Mardoban said. “We can’t just abandon our queen to her enemies’ mercy.”

Vashata and Dion traded dark looks, and then Mardoban felt a trembling hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Karani, her bravado gone and a frightened look on her face. “Are they really going to leave Arta down there, with Respen and Naudar and the others?” she asked; her voice was small, but there was determination under it. The duke had no doubt that if the others pulled out, Karani would try to hop into a fighter herself and go down to Tantos III to find her sister, alone if need be.

“Not if I can help it, Karani,” he said, patting her arm.

“That’s a lovely sentiment,” Vashata said, “but Mardoban, my sensors are detecting more Aurannian warships approaching. We’re running out of time!”

“Sir!” one of the bridge officers called. “We’ve got a shuttle coming up from the planet, arcing around the battle. They’re hailing us.”

“Put them through!” Mardoban said, hope rising in his heart.

“This is Lieutenant Rehan of the Royal Guard,” a staticky woman’s voice suddenly said; Mardoban recognized it as the officer who’d been in charge of Arta’s escort. “We’re heading your way; the queen is out cold, but alive. Repeat, Her Majesty is alive. We’ve got enemy fighters on our tail and they’re closing fast. We need all the help we can get.”

“Copy, shuttle, this is Duke Mardoban on the Lion of Carann.” He turned to one of the bridge’s tactical officers. “Can we spot the fighters she’s talking about?”

“We’ve got them on our scopes, sir,” the officer said. “They’ll be in range shortly.”

Mardoban smiled coolly. “Good,” he said. “Let them get in range, and then show them exactly what sort of folly trying to kill the Queen of the Dozen Stars is, shall we?”

“With pleasure, sir,” the officer said. Mardoban turned to look up at Karani, whose expression showed palpable relief.

“Arta’s alive,” she said. “She made it out.”

“She did,” Mardoban said. “Now, let’s keep her that way.”

A few minutes later, the royal shuttle rounded the battle and came hurtling towards the Lion, a squadron of guild fighters in hot pursuit. No sooner had it entered the great warship’s range than the beam cannon batteries opened fire, the powerful guns picking off the fighters one by one until the last survivors of the squadron turned and fled back to the planet’s surface. The shuttle docked safely in the Lion’s landing bay, and Karani threw her hands in the air and whooped in triumph at her sister’s safe return.

No sooner had the shuttle docked than Mardoban gave the order, and the council’s battered fleet jumped away from Tantos III to an arranged rendezvous point at the edge of the system, to make repairs, await reinforcements and plan their next move.