Rise of Renegades Read online

  “They probably suspect. If they knew for certain, our House would be branded renegades, and the entire military would hunt us down.”

  Skorn activated the holoview attached to his forearm, and the light coalesced into a screen above his arm. He tapped the floating symbols to bring up a list of the currently augmented humans.

  “We have nine humans and eight augments. Some have exhibited abilities with water, fire, light, and enhanced body control—and then there’s your branded slave, who has at least four documented augments. But we need a fixed lab from where we can train the slaves in a control environment.”

  “Find a location, build a city, illegally augment humans.” Ero nodded. “Anything else?”

  “Once we find the site, we can offload the second gravity drive to power a World Gate. When that’s done, we can travel back to the Empire at our leisure.”

  “And others can come here,” Ero countered.

  “I wrote the coding myself,” Skorn said with annoyed frown. “Not even a Bloodblade will be able to figure out how our Gate connects to the Empire’s network.”

  The claim was not a boast, because Skorn never exaggerated. He was one of the best coders in the Empire. At least Ero didn’t have to worry about a contingent of dakorians arriving through the Gate to kill them all.

  “Then what’s next?” Ero asked, watching Quis laugh in delight as he lifted a boulder that weighed four times his body.

  “We need a world engine, a stormdial, a science lab where we can augment many slaves at once, as well as outposts across the continents to monitor the expansion of the augments.”

  “Is that all?” Ero laughed. “How do you expect us to pay for all that?”

  “Allies,” Skorn said.

  “We have none,” Ero scoffed. “And unless we sell an augment, we have nothing to offer.”

  “We don’t need to sell a slave to get glint,” Skorn said with a devious smile. “We just need investors.”

  Ero realized his brother’s intent and smiled in turn. If they could get other Houses to invest in the idea of augmented slaves, it would give them the capital to prepare Lumineia for fifty thousand slaves, the minimum required for a harvest world. Then Ero and Skorn could let them propagate for a few years, and their one little planet would be worth thousands of trillions of glint.

  “There’s one more thing we need to do,” Skorn said. “We need to remove Lumineia from the Imperial Archives.”

  Ero’s smile evaporated. “I thought you did that already.”

  “I said we needed to do it,” Skorn said. “And we need to do it before the Empire discovers us.”

  “And kills us all,” Ero finished.

  Chapter Three

  Distracted by the image of Imperial dreadnaughts showing up in orbit over Lumineia, Ero didn’t notice Skorn turn and leave the holochamber. Ero jumped to follow, sending the tray skittering across the floor. He caught up to his brother in the upper corridor on the way to the bridge.

  “You mean to tell me that we could be discovered at any moment?”

  “It’s not likely,” Skorn replied, striding down the corridor, “but it’s a possibility, yes.”

  Annoyed, Ero followed his brother towards the bridge. Shaped like an insect, the Nova was a beautiful name for a derelict vessel. It was ancient, kept alive by constant replacement parts, a heavy coat of grime to hide the rust, and luck. With two decks, it had a handful of private compartments on the upper deck, as well as the holochamber and the bridge. The lower deck mostly had storage compartments and the cargo bay. At the rear of the vessel, a bulbous compartment held the gravity drive, a sphere of condensed gravitational energy encased in thick seracrete. Power couplings attached to the top of the sphere converted the gravity energy into light, which extended through conduits to power the ship. At least, that’s what it was supposed to do. Many of the power conduits were so old that light leaked through a hundred cracks.

  Ero ducked under one such leaking conduit. “Why didn’t you mention this before?”

  “I tried,” Skorn said. “But you’ve been rather busy playing blades with the ferox and watching the augments explore their abilities.”

  Skorn activated his holoview as they reached the bridge of the Nova, where Skorn claimed the left chair. He manipulated the holo floating above his wrist cortex and tossed the image forward. The sweeping panel across the bridge caught the image and displayed it in a larger form. It showed a sleek red-and-black structure rising a full mile above the surface of Mylttium, the brilliant world near the heart of the Empire.

  “As you know, Lumineia was discovered by a now extinct House.” Skorn settled back into his seat as he motioned to the image. “When the assets of the House were acquired by Zeltil’Dor, an error removed it from the record, so House Zeltil’Dor don’t know they own this planet, while the Empire thinks they do.”

  “What does this have to do with the Imperial Archives?” Ero motioned to the building on Mylttium. “And why does it look like the one on Elttium?”

  “All the Imperial Archives are connected on an isolated network, and are exact copies of each other. That way, if one is destroyed, the records are not lost.”

  “So we need to get inside and alter the record,” Ero said.

  “Exactly.”

  “Sounds exciting.” Ero grinned at the prospect.

  “Sounds dangerous,” Skorn corrected. He zoomed in to highlight the structure. “The building sits inside a big hole, with hundreds of levels below the surface, and another thousand above. There’s a hundred-foot gap between the building and the walls of the pit, and if you fall, you get to enjoy a long fall into a pit of lava.”

  “Sounds delightful,” Ero said. “But how do we get in?”

  “Through the section of the tower reserved for House Bright’Lor.” Skorn twisted the holo and zoomed to an upper floor, where a series of windows were blinking. “Last time we were there, we were on the two-hundredth floor. Our series of rooms connected to a private Gate. I’ve written some coding that will modify that specific Gate. It will then connect to the Imperial floors, located at the very base of the structure.”

  “You mean the ones sitting in a pool of lava.”

  “I thought you said it sounded exciting,” Skorn said, leaning back in the pilot’s chair.

  “It was, until I knew there was lava,” Ero said. “Is this actual lava or artificially melted?”

  “Natural,” he said. “The lava is heated from an underground volcano and connects to a tectonic vent a few miles away. It releases pressure from the plates to prevent earthquakes.”

  “As much as I enjoy a nice lava bath, this seems like a mission for you,” Ero said. “If anything goes wrong, I’ll have to write cortex coding, and my skills with substrate coding are—”

  “Horrendous?” Skorn supplied.

  “I think you’re being generous.”

  Ero recalled the last time he’d tried to write a code to bypass a simple door. Olana Kel’Ray had trapped him in a room, thinking to use him for some amusement. He’d not only failed to breach the locking mechanism, but also broken it so the door had to be broken down by dakorians upon Olana’s return. It was not one of Ero’s proudest moments.

  “This mission should be rather straightforward,” Skorn said. “And the best time for the intrusion is when a weekly coding update is being transmitted from the primary installation on Valana. Unfortunately, that’s the exact time I am to meet three potential allies.”

  “We have three potential allies?” Ero scoffed. “I thought we’d be lucky to have one.”

  “I quietly reached out to a few nobles I thought would be interested in slaves of a higher caliber. Three expressed interest.”

  “You implied we have augments,” Ero said.

  Skorn’s smile was sly. “How else was I supposed to get anyone to invest in our House?”

  “It’s risky,” Ero said. “If word gets to the Empire that we have augments, we’re as good as dead.”

&nb
sp; “It’s not the Empire we have to worry about. It’s Malikin. We both know he’s been sent by the Emperor to destroy House Bright’Lor, and it isn’t because we have augmented slaves.”

  Ero thought back to his meeting with his mother, when she’d claimed that blue-eyed krey had once been emperors on the throne of the Empire. She’d wanted Ero to claim to be the rightful Emperor so other Houses could have a figurehead to support. He’d rejected the invitation outright—partly because he thought the lie absurd, but mostly because he hated the woman.

  “You still think Malikin is coming after us because of the color of our eyes?”

  “There’s no way our House used to be the Imperial line,” Skorn said flatly. “I think it’s more likely the Emperor believes we are a threat because of what caused our House to fall. When the Dark was released, it destroyed everything on that planet. If someone managed to gain control of such a weapon, the Empire would be helpless.”

  Ero shrugged. “We’ve dealt with threats like Malikin before.”

  “Maybe,” Skorn said, “but not when our House is bankrupt and fallen. That’s why we need allies. While I meet with the nobles, I want you to take a slave to the Imperial Archives. The slave’s presence will provide legitimacy to your visit, and if a theft is discovered later, they will not be looking for a noble that could afford a slave.”

  “I’ll take Siena.”

  “Not the ferox.” Skorn shook his head. “I need her to show the other Houses what she can do. It’s the only way I can get them to invest in our House.”

  Ero didn’t like the option, but could not figure out any way to refute the plan. His brother knew he’d grown attached to Siena, and probably chose her out of spite. But Siena was the only slave that had gained even basic control over their augments, and investors wouldn’t give much if a little boy picked up a rock.

  “As long as you bring back a case of Telgorian Draught,” Ero said.

  “There’s no way we can afford that,” Skorn said.

  “Not even a bottle?”

  “No,” Skorn said flatly.

  Ero sighed. “I miss being rich.”

  Skorn smiled faintly. “You and me both.”

  Ero leaned back into the copilot’s chair and activated his holoview. His brother sent him the schematics of the Imperial Archive, and upon being activated, they turned into a three-dimensional image appearing above his arm. He reached to the light and caught a thread, turning it to the side before breaking a piece off and setting it aside so he could see the interior.

  “Any Bloodwalls in the structure?” Ero asked.

  “One,” Skorn said. “He’s the captain tasked with protecting the entire building.”

  Bloodwalls. Dakorians that had proven their loyalty and received a genesis chamber, where every flaw in their genome was corrected, allowing them the same long life as the krey. They could live forever unless killed by accident or adversary. They were also expensive to create, and rare.

  “Remember Zekara?” Ero asked.

  “Father’s Bloodwall before the fall of our House?” Skorn asked absently, his attention on the archive. “What about her?”

  “Whatever happened to her?”

  “Why?” Skorn asked.

  “Because I wonder if she would join us.”

  Skorn jerked his head. “We wouldn’t want her back.”

  “So she’s still alive?”

  It was a logical question. Even with a perfected body, Bloodwalls did not usually survive for more than a few thousand years. It was a dangerous occupation, even if it was lucrative. The number of Bloodwalls was a source of great pride for each of the dakorian clans. It was also how they funded their clan homeworlds.

  “Last I heard she went back to Rebor, clan Hammerdin’s homeworld,” Skorn said. “I believe she’s training relatives.”

  Ero wondered if the forceful dakorian would join him. Skorn was right, they didn’t have the glint, but perhaps Ero could offer something more valuable. A slight smile spread on his features as he considered the prospect.

  Skorn frowned when he saw his expression and rotated in his seat. “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s a bad idea.”

  “What? I wasn’t thinking anything.”

  “I know that look.” Skorn pointed to Ero’s face. “That’s the same expression you had before you contacted Telik and agreed to create augmented humans.”

  “It worked out, didn’t it?” Ero swept a hand to the laboring slaves, visible through the curving bridge window.

  “And we’ll probably be dropped into a sun for it,” Skorn said. “Whenever you get that look, we do something illegal.”

  Ero grinned broadly. “Not every time.”

  Skorn leaned back and regarded him with a mix of amusement and irritation. “Do I need to enumerate all the times you’ve nearly gotten us killed?”

  “I don’t think that’s necessary,” Ero said. “Besides, this idea is even better—”

  “Are you certain?” Skorn asked. “Because there’s quite a long list. We’ve lived for almost twenty thousand years. Remember when we ended up floating in space in a pair of exo-suits? Or what about the time you thought we could sneak into a secret starport in the Kinoro Nebula because you claimed they had the most beautiful krey women?”

  “In my defense, that was true.”

  Skorn released a bark of laughter. “What you didn’t say was that the Kinoro Nebula was controlled by the Burning Ghosts, the most secretive, ruthless, and brutal criminal organization in the quadrant.”

  Ero chuckled at the memory. “I still hear from Rexa every few years.”

  “Telling you they will kill you if you come back.”

  “And other things.”

  Skorn sighed and passed a hand over the holo. “Ero, we’ve had our fun, but what we’re building here is an end to that. If we do this right, we’ll have the strongest House in the Empire. You can’t rule a planet and spend your time playing. You have to make a choice.”

  Ero’s smile faded. As usual, his brother was right, and the reference to Kelindor was obvious. Just ten years ago Ero had been Primus over the strongest planet in House Bright’Lor, until the mysterious cloud had been released and swallowed the globe, killing billions. The destruction had brought the downfall of their entire House. They’d been shedding members of the family and assets for a decade, the fall finally landing their father under Condemnation. Not that Ero cared about his father. His cruelty was legendary even among krey.

  “I’ll try to enjoy it while it lasts,” Ero said, and turned his attention to the holo of the archive.

  They lapsed into silence and Ero made a real effort to study the building. He’d infiltrated his fair share of enemy-controlled structures, most owned by rival Houses, but never one owned by the Empire. Capture would mean immediate Condemnation with at least three Voices on the judging tribunal. Skorn would not be able to bribe enough to gain his release, so if Ero failed, the next sun he would see would be the one he jettisoned into.

  “Out of curiosity,” Skorn finally said with a sigh, “what was your idea?”

  “Oh, so now you want to know?”

  “No,” Skorn said. “But we both know that if you don’t tell me, you’re going to try it on your own and I’ll have to deal with the fallout.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “It’s happened hundreds of times,” Skorn said sourly. “I honestly don’t know how you have been so lucky.”

  “It’s part of my charm.”

  Skorn grunted dubiously. “Are you going to tell me or not?”

  A sly smile spread on Ero’s features. “We augmented humans, right?”

  “So?” Skorn’s voice was cautious.

  “So dakorians also don’t have a perfected body.”

  Skorn’s eyebrows shot up. “You want to augment dakorians?”

  It was not often Ero managed to truly shock his brother, so Ero relished the moment. Skorn was a manipulative, cruel krey with a strategically brilliant mi
nd. He was always plotting, and usually planned years in advance. It’s why they were both still alive. But every once in a while Ero came up with an idea his brother would never consider.

  “Think of it,” Ero said, dismissing the holo of the Imperial Archives and leaning forward. “Right now, dakorians grow up on their clan worlds, and enter the military at the age of thirty. Except for those chosen to be Bloodwalls, the rest serve the krey Empire for sixty years. Then they go back to their clan world to have children or they stay in the Empire. Either way, they don’t often live beyond two hundred years.”

  “So?” Skorn was unconvinced. “There’s no way you’ll get a dakorian soldier to undergo a krey experiment. They’re way too proud.”

  Ero managed to keep the triumph from his voice. His brother was listening. “Maybe, but they all want to be Bloodwalls.”

  “We can’t perfect their bodies,” Skorn said. “Not even Telik can do that.”

  “I know,” Ero said. “But what if we provided an alternative to being a Bloodwall, a way for a dakorian to gain power without having to be chosen by the Empire?”

  Skorn regarded him with his usual cold expression, but this time there was a touch of curiosity in his blue eyes. Enough that Ero knew he’d piqued his brother’s interest. Ero might have the ideas, but his brother made them happen.

  “We’d be in competition with the Empire,” Skorn said. “They create the bulk of Bloodwalls, and they wouldn’t like it if a House provided an alternative route to power.”

  “But it would bring a fortune in glint.”

  “Plus, if dakorians had similar augments, it would help dakorians control the human augments,” Skorn said.

  Ero had not considered that prospect, but he grinned as if he had. “Exactly.”

  Skorn grimaced and shook his head. “One day, you’re going to get me killed.”

  “Only a thief could kill you,” Ero said with a laugh. “Anyone else and you’d see your death coming years in advance.”

  Skorn released a sigh. “No promises. But once we have perfected augmenting humans, I’ll talk to Telik and see if it’s even possible.”