Stars of Charon (Legacy of the Thar'esh Book 1) (21 page)

I pounded
my fists on the blast doors and yelled, but there wasn’t even an echo of sound.
The steel was too thick.

“Can you
find the handle?” Ju-lin asked in the darkness.

“I don’t
know if I can even find the door,” I said as I felt along the sheer sides of
the hold. “It’s too dark.”

There was
a low rumble from somewhere below, the ship’s engines were engaging.

“Where
are they taking us?” Ju-lin’s voice was a whisper.

There was
a click above us and a humming sound as the ceiling began to glow, dimly
illuminating the hold.

As our
eyes adjusted to the light, I saw that we were in a large cargo area. A few
paces away was a staircase that led up to a sealed door, most likely to the
state cabins above. There were several empty alcoves, most likely designed to
hold passenger’s luggage. On the far end of the hold was a row of four empty
jump-seats mounted against the bulkhead.

I turned
back to look at the entrance, it was sealed. The control console next to it was
deactivated and non-responsive.

“Dammit,”
I cursed.

“Eli,”
Ju-lin whispered.

I turned
and saw her staring at something at the far side of the hold, I hadn’t noticed
it at first in the dim light, but above the jump-seats there was a large, four-pointed
silver star.

Chapter
23.

Just weeks before we had been in the lower caste. I had stood
against the side of the bulkhead with lowered eyes as our proven warriors
passed. But today, the untried or unproven stood aside for me.

My strides were long, my steps purposeful. I turned a corner
and climbed up through an access hatch that had once been an airlock, but now
served as a connection between the many ships that my clan had fused together
to create our home. I turned down another passage and approached the Chieftains
door. The two warriors guarding the door: the Chief’s sons. They nodded and let
me pass.

The inside of his cabin was large. It had once been the
command deck for a large Domari cruiser, now it was the Chief’s grand hall. My
bravado faded as I was humbled by the trophies on his wall. There were dozens
of skulls mounted in a line, most were from humans of every shape and size, and
two other creatures I did not know. I saw weapons hung on the walls, broken
swords, and a large plasma rifle that had been hewn in half. There was a large
cage built into the wall on one corner. I heard a low grown and heard the
rustle of chains.

“Lor’ten,” the Chief entered the room from the far side.

I bowed my head and waited quietly for him to speak.

“It was not long ago that you knelt by the bladestones to
receive your honor and give me your pledge. And now you stand before me once
again. You have done well, you have earned honor, and now your clan has need of
you.”

It is
difficult to gauge the passing of time when you are sealed inside the cargo bay
of a traveling starship. Ju-lin and I talked, sat, and waited, as the dull hum
of the engines droned. We were hungry and tired. Though the heat of the engines
staved off the freeze of deep space, the cargo hold was not climate controlled.
The chill in the air grew as the hours passed, and we huddled together for
warmth. We were both exhausted, and lost in our own thoughts. Eventually,
Ju-lin leaned against my shoulder and slept.

The only
thing that marked the passing of time was the vertigo that we felt as we
fluxed. The sensation had made my stomach flip when I was in the cabin of
Tons-o-Fun
,
but it was much worse in the enclosed cavern of the ship’s hold.

When she
awoke, we talked. She told me about her life growing up, and I told her about
my memories and the different lives that I remembered. I had thought she would
be disturbed by the notion that I could recall a full life lived, of the wife
and family that I had had before the terraforming, of the strange faces and
intense feelings that haunt my dreams. But if she was bothered, she didn’t let
it show.

She asked
thoughtful questions about my memories that helped me stitch the patterns of my
past together. She told me about that her mother, who was a pilot herself. She
had died when Ju-lin was young during the Draugari invasion of Alpha Centauri.
Ju-lin talked about how she learned to live with loss. The anger, the fear, the
loneliness.

It was
strange for me, but there, captive in the dim, chilly hold of the Collegiate’s
ship, with the four-pointed star Vasudeva on the wall above us, I felt warmer
and happier than I could remember. I held Ju-lin close for comfort as well as
warmth, and for the first time, I didn’t feel alone.

We had
gone through six fluxes, and countless hours in the dark before there was a
jarring series of metallic clanks against the hull and the engines went silent.

“We’re
docked,” Ju-lin said, raising her head. I had thought she was asleep.

“With a
ship?” I asked.

“More
likely a station,” she answered. “Those sounds were magnetic clamps holding the
ship in place.”

“Right,”
I shivered involuntarily.

“Eli,”
she said. “Do you think they know what you are?”

“I don’t
know. I don’t think so,” I answered.

“What do
they want from us?”

It wasn’t
the first time on the flight we had asked ourselves that question. Her tone
wasn’t fearful or nervous. It was calculating.

“It must
be just about the colony then,” she said. “Something about the symbols.”

“How do
they even know we saw them?” I asked.

“Maybe
Loid told them?”

“Loid
didn’t know much.”

“He knew
enough,” she answered. “And now he’s going to be rich enough, I’m sure they
paid him well for the information.”

I didn’t
reply. My mind raced through everything that the Matron had told us about the
Collegiate. They were a group of historians. Historians who abduct. I thought
of Joof. Historians who kill. None of it added up.

Another
series of popping sounds reverberated through the ship. The control panel by
the door we had entered through came to life, and as we scrambled to our feet,
the door swung open and flooded the hold with light.

We
squinted our eyes and tried to adjust to the brightness, six shadows separated
themselves and entered the hold. All were Celestrial. All were armed. Though
the six were not wearing any p uniform, I saw small silver stars pinned to
their lapels. The Collegiate

“What do you want from us?” Ju-lin was
on her feet, walking toward the nearest guard.

The guards all stood motionless and
silent.

“What?”
Ju-lin stopped a few paces away from the guards. “Oh I get it, you’re all just
grunts right? No authority? Well then, who’s in charge? Hm? How far into Skins
space did you take us? Further than any other Earthborn has ever been I’d bet.
What are you going to do? Torture us? Do you even know what you are doing?”

One of
the guards stepped forward, whipping Ju-lin across the face with his pistol and
sending her tumbling backwards. I took a few steps to catch her, three of the
other guards stepped forward with rifles aimed squarely at my chest.

“The
Collegiate is not a gang,” a tall Celestrial with white swirls in his grey eyes
spoke in thickly accented common. “We are not a crime syndicate. We are not
thugs.”

“Could
have fooled me,” Ju-lin spat back as she held her cheek, I could already see
bruising along her jaw-line.

The
Celestrial regarded her silently. He raised his hand and made a quick gesture.
Four of his compatriots came forward, two held Ju-lin by the shoulders and cuffed
her wrists behind her back. The other two did the same to me.

“You will
answer our questions,” it was not a question. “Then we will decide what we can
do with you. Perhaps your existences will prove useful. But I think not.”

The
guards shoved Ju-lin forward toward the door as she strained against them,
fighting to get free.

“Ju-lin,
no!” I called as I lunged towards her.

My words
were muffled as the guard behind me shoved the barrel of his weapon deep into
my side. I doubled over in pain.

I gasped and
looked up, Ju-lin turned briefly as they led her through the door, our eyes met
for a breath. I think she was trying to tell me something, maybe it was an
apology, or maybe it was an encouragement. I wasn’t sure. But then she was
gone.

One of my
captors pulled a thick black hood over my head, and everything went dark.

At first
I tried to keep track of the twists and turns. Twenty paces and turn left. Ten
more paces and turn right. But as the guards led me through turn after turn I
lost track. I did know that the air was getting more stale, the smells of fuel
and grease that I had grown accustomed to in the hold of the ship was being
replaced by the sharp stink of burnt sulfur. The further we walked, the dull
drone of engines was replaced by the distant clattering of machines.

Eventually,
we came to a stop. One of them removed the bindings from my hands, and pulled
the hood off of my head. I was just beginning to get my bearings when I was
shoved from behind. By the time my eyes had readjusted to the light they were
gone and the door behind me was shut. I was in a small, square room that was
barely wide enough for me to lie down. The floor and walls were grey steel with
black scuff marks on the wall. The only piece of furniture was a short stool
with a plate of food on top. I couldn’t remember the last time I ate. My
stomach gnawed, growling as soon as I got sight of the food.

The meal
wasn’t much, simple bread, water, and some sort of raw green vegetable with an
excellent crispness, but I couldn't think of ever having tasted anything
better. After devouring every crumb, I sat down on the stool to examine my
surroundings and gather my thoughts.

Ju-lin’s
greatest fear was that they had taken us into the Celestrial core worlds, a
series of systems that are unknown to either the Protectorate or the
Collective. Only full blooded Celestrials were allowed into the interior
systems that are home to countless billion Celestrials and their core
shipyards, Ju-lin said it was a good bet if we were taken to the interior that
there would be no hope of escape or release. However, from what little I knew
about where we were being held, that seemed less and less likely.

To begin,
I was held in a small storage locker rather than a formal prison. The scuff
marks on the walls and dirt outlines on the floor were clear indications that I
was put in a makeshift cell that was typically used for storage. Also, as I
looked up, I noticed that the room was lit by a low-hanging bulb mounted from
the center of the ceiling. All of the Celestrial construction that I had
witnessed on Shindar and aboard the ship that had carried us involved the use
of luminous surfaces rather than the lamps and bulbs.

Perhaps
they didn’t take us to the interior after all. Though I doubted they had taken
us to an Earthborn installation, maybe it was a Collective facility? Or a
captured human ship or station that they had turned into a secret prison? Or
maybe the Celestrials only used luminous surfaces to light their cities and
newer ships and this was merely an older model. Was I overthinking everything?

My mind
whirled through the possibilities, but every thought brought me back around to
the realization that I didn’t really know anything at all. And even what I did
know, was secondary in my mind to my concern over what was happening to Ju-lin.
I had gotten used to the feeling of her next to me, and I missed it.

As the
hours went on I paced, stretched, and eventually lay down on my back. The floor
was cold, but I was tired, and somehow I slept.

I was
jolted awake when the door swung open and slammed against its mountings. By the
time I had scrambled to my feet the guards were next to me. One held and bound
my hands while the other slipped the hood over my head, plunging me back into
darkness. Once again, my silent captors led me through a series of turns, after
a few moments we came to a stop in a lift. We traveled upwards for several moments
before it came to a stop.

When we
exited the lift the sounds and smells changed. I had grown accustomed to stale
air and the drone of distant machining echoing through the halls. Here there
was the soft, dampening quiet of insulated walls. The air held a light floral
scent and seemed fresher, cleaner. I inhaled the clean air deeply as we walked.

After
another dozen paces, a deep voice spoke melodiously, and I was led forward and
pushed roughly into a softly padded chair. My hands were left bound in front of
me as they pulled the hood off from over my head.

I was
seated in the middle of a large room, sitting opposite an L-shaped desk with an
antique lamp on the corner. An older Celestrial with greying skin sat at the
desk, not looking up, his eyes focused on the tablet in front of him. I decided
it would be best to wait for him to speak first, and began looking around the room.

Three of
the walls were interior to the station, and decorated with all kinds of
objects. Most were foreign to me, but I recognized a display with at least a
dozen Draugari blades in cases on the wall. I remembered my own, still stashed
back on
Tons-o-Fun
where I had left it. Elsewhere there were scale
models of ships, including one that looked like the Protectorate Dreadnaught
that we had seen while traveling through Alecto. There were colorful masks,
sculptures that fluidly shifted their shape, flags, helmets and armor. The
place reminded me of the Draugari trophy rooms that I had seen in my memories.
Though notably less gruesome, I was pretty sure that it seemed to serve the
same purpose. This was a memorial to enemies and triumphs.

When I
finally got around to the fourth wall my mouth dropped open. Though I was sure
that there was glass, it looked as if it were open into space. In the distance
I saw a swirling hazel world surrounded by a translucent white ring. Looking
downward I saw a ridge of blue-grey rugged stone outcroppings beneath us. So we
were on an orbital asteroid station, maybe a mine.

 “Beautiful,
isn’t it?” the Celestrial’s voice was low and his Common crisp and clear. “The
world is called Kalaedia, the only planet in the system. The rings are a
wonder, they contain flecks of a rare crystalline composite that some in the
primitives within Domari Collective prize for its beauty and clarity, but
serves no technological or industrial purpose.”