Destiny's Blood (23 page)

Everyone ignored the last statement. Lang muttered something under his breath about not being paid enough for this.

“It’s beautiful,” the Berganda whispered, staring straight at the tunnel. The blue lights stroked and highlighted her green skin.

“Seizures,” Avienne said, keeping her own eyes to her console.

“Not human,” Josmere replied. Avienne saw that Layela was also staring at the tunnel, the blue in her unblinking eyes lit with the reflection of the tachyons. It was a disturbing dance of colour. Avienne forced herself to look back at her controls.

“We’re already gaining on the
Meltor
. Must be an older model,” Avienne added. She searched the data banks for specs to determine how best to disable her without knocking her on the walls of the tunnel or taking down her tachyonic shields. The best way to stop her, of course, would be to negotiate, but that was hardly her area of expertise. She’d let Cailan handle that, and keep searching for alternatives, just in case.

“We’ve got company!” Avienne cried. Shots ripped through the back of the
Destiny
. The tachyon shields held.

“Are they mad?” Lang screamed.

The comm unit flared to life, and a sharp, crisp voice intoned, “This is the civilian freighter
Meltor
. We are unarmed and carry only civilians. Please cease fire!”

“Mirial ships are engaging them behind us,” Avienne reported, glad for the smaller ships to keep the enemy busy. They had to concentrate on the large vessel before them.

“Contact the
Meltor
,” Cailan said calmly. Avienne hit a command in her console and frowned when nothing happened. Quickly, her slender hands gliding over the console, she punched in several commands, shaking her head and cursing.

“We are a freighter, with over two hundred souls on board,” the voice intoned again with the slightest edge of panic.

“Avienne?” Cailan asked. Ardin looked back at his sister.

“No good,” she reported. Her fingers moved more frantically, as if repetition could make the commands work. “Our outgoing communications are down.”

Cailan sat back down at the engineering console. Behind them, the war raged on.
Destiny
acted as a shield
 
—
 
the only thing protecting the unarmed civilian ship. Still, several volleys flew by the larger ship and barely missed the
Meltor
.

 “Please take your confrontation outside the tunnel,” the voice was growing shriller with each new communication.

Avienne wished she could contact them, if only to tell them to shut up and let her concentrate.

“Captain!” Ardin screamed from the controls, and Avienne looked up just in time to see an explosion of blue light.
Destiny’s
starboard engine started its collapse, sending them into the side of the tunnel.
Destiny
groaned and buckled right, the port engine still firing full. Blue sparks surrounded them as the tachyon particles went flying, breaking free of their carefully created artificial route.

“Pull her back, Ardin,” Cailan said, madly fighting with the engineering controls. Ardin managed to pull her off the wall for a few moments, but a shot to
Destiny’s
side sent her flying back. Avienne kept a close eye on the tachyonic shields.

Meltor’s
emergency signals continued, the ship’s course affected by flying particles, the freighter obviously fighting to keep control.

“I’ve almost got the secondary manual controls up, Ardin,” Cailan calmly called out. Seconds later, the engine kicked back in and the
Destiny
regained the safer middle of the tunnel.

“We’ve lost contact with most of the ship,” Avienne said. She wondered how many of her crewmates, her family, were dead or dying in
Destiny’s
catacombs.

i

Dunkat was growing impatient. It was bad enough that Noro had provided him, Colonel of Solarian Defence, with only 210 ships, but to man them only with new recruits added insult to injury.

“A simple training exercise, isn’t that what this pet project of yours is, Dunkat?”

Arrogant. They were all too arrogant, he thought as the
Destiny
regained its composure before him, no longer bouncing like a fish out of water on the wall of the tunnel. She was a tough old ship, but he had had enough. If he could not have her, he needed to stop her.

A pity. More analysis of the ship’s technology could have lead to interesting discoveries, but stopping the rebirth of the First Star was more important than anything else.

“Prepare to fire plasma cannons.” Dunkat gave the order, and the young soldier eagerly punched in the command.

There was one advantage to the young recruits: they didn’t know when to question his dangerous moves.

He hoped they at least knew how to aim.

i

“
Destiny
,” Kipso’s voice boomed over the
Meltor’s
panicked shrieks. “Destroy the freighter now, while it’s in sight.”

Layela’s eyes met Josmere’s surprised look. “What are they talking about?”

Cailan turned to her for an instant, frowning and looking just as puzzled, when Avienne’s toneless voice ripped through the bridge. “Their lead ship is charging its plasma weapons.”

Layela looked speculatively at Avienne. Avienne shrugged and said, “If they fire in here and hit the wall, the whole tunnel will collapse.”

“Oh.”

“Avienne, do we have enough shields to take the hit?”

The redhead was already shaking her head before the captain finished speaking. “Our tachyonic shields will fail if I draw any more power to tactical.”

Cailan nodded. “Ardin, avoid that blast. We’ll have to take our chances where best they lie. Everyone, strap in!”

“Firing! Twenty-four degrees on our starboard side!”

“Moving!” Ardin pulled at levers and hit buttons. The slow-loading plasma cannon took a few seconds to fire, giving
Destiny
almost enough time to get out of the way.  Almost.

“Compensating!” Avienne screamed, diverting whatever was left of tactical shields to the starboard engines. The shot ricocheted off the energy shield, right into the wall of the tunnel. For a second, nothing happened. The tunnel appeared to have swallowed the blast.

Then, the whole tunnel shuddered around them as freed tachyons smashed into the failing shields. All of them covered their ears in pain as the tachyon wails broke through
 
—
 
all but the Berganda, who could hear much deeper and finer songs.

Even the
Meltor’s
pleas grew silent. Every soul in the tunnel quickly came to the same realization.

The tunnel was collapsing fast, and precious little time remained to escape a slow and cruel death.

C
HAPTER
22

D
estiny’s remaining engine fired wildly as her crew urged every bit of power into it. Every single inch of the ship shook with the strain, including her crew. The end of the tunnel proved too far, but the second-to-last exit could be their salvation. It was near, but possibly still too far down the collapsing tunnel.

Layela clutched her seat, looking down. The lights were out and only the frenzied electric blue light of the tunnel illuminated the bridge, giving her the sensation of being under water. She chanced a look at the tunnel. The blue lights were no longer controlled, but flying wildly, with just enough particles travelling in the right direction for
Destiny
to ride. The silence was intense on the bridge. Everyone concentrated on their stations and only an odd, occasional shrieking sound penetrated from outside when too many particles struck the tachyonic shields that protected the hull. She wondered what the song of tachyons would sound like were they not in the vast, still emptiness of space.

Avienne’s tense voice suddenly cut through the thick silence. “A Mirial ship is passing us.”

“Probably trying to get out of here,” Lang muttered from his station, watching the countdown to the exit on his panel.

“They’re firing at the freighter!”

“Please stop firing! We are a civilian ship!” the
Meltor
captain’s voice shrieked back to life.

“What are they doing?” Layela went to jump up, but the seat harness kept her secure. She undid it and stood. Her legs felt like jelly on the shaking deck.

“Our communications are still down, but I have weapons,” Avienne told Cailan, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow. Layela stood by Avienne, watching the small ship firing on the large freighter, its tachyon shields reflecting blue and purple as each shot weakened them dangerously.

“Almost at the exit,” Lang said in hushed tones.

Cailan shook his head slowly, looking at the small ship as he gave the order. “Take them out, Avienne.” Then he added quietly, “Make it a clean shot. It’ll be a nicer death than collapsing with this tunnel.”

“Aye,” Avienne softly replied as she targeted the ship. Layela looked up at the ship, the
Meltor’s
pleas suddenly seeming far away. She tried to envision Yoma on the ship, in the same danger she was in, but still her mind could not connect with her sister’s, even as tears of despair spilled down her face.

i

Yoma stared at the shuttered window, desperately focusing on Layela as the ship jerked again. She gritted her teeth and held tightly to her seat, wishing she could do something; wishing she wasn’t so helpless.

The captain’s plea sounded over and over again. “Please cease fire, we are a civilian ship.”

Just shut up and bear it,
Yoma thought, knowing his pleas to be in vain.

The ship jerked again and her muscles ached from clutching her seat. As the tachyons broke free and their wails forced everyone around her to cover their ears, Yoma’s heart grew quiet. Sacrificing the
Meltor
and all on board was the only way to save her sister.

Let me go, Layela,
Yoma pleaded, hoping her sister would know her heart and choose to stand without her twin.
Only one of us can live, and I want it to be you.

 She sat back and felt her muscles relax, waiting for the death she knew to be necessary. She mused over how many she would be willing to sacrifice, including herself, to see her sister safe.

i

“Firing!” Avienne screamed. The word sliced through Layela, mists blinding her sight so effectively she couldn’t see what her vision had foretold. Still, she knew she had to do something to stop it. Her instincts begged and screamed her to, and energized her limbs.  Without thought, she threw herself on the redhead. The weapons remained unfired and cuss words flew freely as Layela’s impact brought Avienne to the floor.

“What the…” Avienne started, angrily pushing Layela aside, when a flash stopped her short.

“Exiting the tunnel,” Ardin whispered as the blue faded, but not before Layela could see the outcome of her actions. Without Avienne’s shot to stop the Mirial ship, the
Meltor
had been destroyed, two hundred civilians killed.

“I…” Layela tried to say something, stunned by her own actions. Her tongue felt thick and awkward.

Avienne quickly got up, shrugging as she offered her hand to Layela. “What’s done is done.”

Layela took the offered hand and was pulled to her feet. Cailan shouted, “Evasive manoeuvres! Avienne, shields, now!”

Layela was jerked off of her feet again and onto Josmere, who caught her and held her tight as the ship jostled. She looked out the view port but didn’t understand what she was seeing. The space around them was purple, a deep purple, with darker wisps stroking their ship as it desperately tried to turn. The groaning metal seemed to be pulled in various directions.

She saw a few of the smaller ships emerge from the tunnel into the purple mass, some of them quickly torn apart by the vicious matter. She might have thought the deep purple was the tunnel itself, but she could see the tunnel shuddering beside it, a blue, frenzied snake writhing in the vast cosmos as it lay down its final breath. The tunnel turned bright for an instant, blinding her, and when she could see again, all that remained of it was a faint shimmer of blue. In a moment, that too vanished, leaving only the purple beast behind.

Destiny’s
engines spat one more time, breaking free. The sky was once again littered with stars, but the ship’s bold efforts had cost her the rest of her shields and most of her engine power.

“What is that?” Avienne asked as she looked at the great purple mass that had almost swallowed them, too much in awe to even muster a swear.

“A dense nebula?” Ardin guessed, although he didn’t believe his own words. Before them the sky stood purple and empty. Any light that had dared to venture this far had been swallowed in the swirling, thick gases.

“Where are we?” Avienne asked, but Lang only mumbled under his breath, shaking his head. His gaze was deep in his star charts.

A few ships floated around them, some in a straight line, others tumbling over themselves.

“Captain Cailan,” Kipso’s voice came crisply over the communications system. “Please follow the escort.” There was a pause. “If you resist, we will destroy you.”

Ardin looked questioningly at Cailan, his features tense with worry and confusion.

Cailan wearily nodded. “Do as he says, Ardin.” The captain rose from his seat. “If you need me, I’ll be in engineering,” he whispered as he lowered himself over the first rung. The siblings exchanged a long look, and Avienne’s shoulders dropped.

Layela paid little heed to them. She felt Josmere hug her tightly, the Berganda’s body shaking as tears ran down her face and onto Layela’s shoulder. Layela wanted to comfort her, but before any words could escape, she too began to cry, at first quietly, but then with an emptiness and deep sorrow that ripped her soul apart.

Somewhere along the length of the collapsed tunnel, or in the purple beast that had swallowed it, were the
Meltor’s
broken remains.

Which meant her sister was dead. Layela moaned.

Yoma was dead, and it had been her doing.