Destiny Abounds (Starlight Saga Book 1) (46 page)

Branwen nodded in return. That fit with the floor plans she’d looked over and memorized a few hours ago. Just as she started to turn and head that way, however, a deep
boom
of sound rumbled its way through the house from the back, reverberating through the walls and foundation and settling into Branwen’s stomach. She glanced back that way, her worry an internal mirror of Zimi’s, but Merlo would have to fend for herself for a little while longer. She turned resolutely and headed deeper and higher into the manor in search of clues.

16.4
- Merlo

The first guards came at them in pairs and trios, brandishing riot shields, in the sleek black of moderate to heavy body armor, with what passed in this cluster for military grade energy shielding. But with casual gestures and rippling shockwaves of force, 286 swept most of them aside. In the rare case that one managed to keep their footing, she suspended them helplessly in the air, then threw them violently against the wall while they futilely struggled. Bullets from shotguns and pistols, silly primitive projectile weapons that they were, hit 286’s Kinetic barrier, but she didn’t let anyone get close enough for those weapons to pack enough punch to be a threat. Instead, bullets and tight packed shot deflected harmlessly aside, or even stopped completely, suspended in the air for an instant, then fell impotently to the ground as they were suddenly robbed of their force and potential.

Merlo was impressed, but she was a bit too busy to spend much time admiring her girlfriend’s skills. These mercs weren’t nearly as well trained as an Arlesian soldier, much less a Starlance Lancer, but they were still skilled enough to be a threat. Fortunately, Prisoner 286 was far too powerful of a threat herself for them to focus on Merlo and close in on her in the numbers required to give her trouble. Man, she felt jealous of those Kinetics, watching the woman just stand there and dish out punishment, not even bothering to try and utilize cover or evade attacks.

She smacked shoulder first into a clear riot shield, pushing a surprised Urzran back a step before grabbing the edges of the shield and flipping over it, putting her full, substantial weight and strength into a falling axe kick. The heel of her suit hardened on impact, distributing and denying much of the force, and she was in too close for the enemy’s shielding to do anything protective. The terrific impact, executed perfectly, split the hardened shell of the Urzran merc’s helmet in two, leaving the woman staggering and stunned.

As her opponent dropped her shield and tried to steady herself, Merlo willed the port in the palm of her hand open, the pad underneath already shimmering with electric blue, high voltage static. She stuffed that charged palm directly into the woman’s rugged face, the impact of the open-palm blow enough by itself to break her jaw. When the electrical arc also discharged into her, she spasmed and went down, not dead but unlikely to rise again anytime soon.

The next attacker came in quickly for such a broad figure, swinging an electrified weapon of his own in both hands, making a wide arc with the intention to impact Merlo’s upper body. He didn’t have a shield for protection, though, and he was far too slow by Merlo’s standards. She grabbed his arms as he swung and turned his momentum against him, smashing a forceful knee into his side as she moved, and cracking the reinforced plating there, the force driving the fragmented pieces of it into his ribs. He whooshed out a heavy breath and tried to bring the hammer-like object to bear again, but Merlo shifted her grip to his shoulder plates and flipped over him, spinning her weight as she did so and slinging him down and across the ground in a rolling impact that dazed him and lost him his weapon.

Merlo looked over at Prisoner 286, who happened to check on how she was doing at about the same time. They shared a grin across the battlefield, though 286’s was more like a fracture crawling up the side of her face that let the crazy show through. It wasn’t
so
different from the expression Merlo felt on her own face, though. They weren’t so different after all, and she was
really
enjoying the thrill of letting loose after what felt like forever. She was
finally
putting her skills to the test, and it felt
good
.

She broke visual contact with the Prisoner for a moment to slide across the weird grass-stuff, underneath the shield and between the legs of a merc she’d identified as male. She punched up powerfully between them as she passed, then flipped her legs up and, with the support of her arms on the ground, kicked him squarely in the small of his back. She wasn’t sure how much damage the two blows had done, but he seemed content to lie there for now instead of continuing to brandish a pistol at her.

Another stray shot deflected off of her shielding, momentarily blurring her visibility. As it cleared, she noticed two enemies heading her way, both heavier armed and more cautious than the last ones. And past those, she almost chuckled as she watched 286 lift three more in a tight group, heedless of their gunfire. Merlo even found enough sympathy for them to spare a brief, mental wince as she heard the trio’s armor begin to crunch painfully under the force of the tiny singularity they were suspended in.

And then, to her shock, 286 let them go. They fell to the ground in a pile, and without looking back, the woman just strode away. The remaining mercenaries, and those rushing onto the scene simply parted to let her pass as the Prisoner strode toward the dark jaws of the tunnel leading further into the cavern.

Utterly stunned, Merlo had only time to shout at her a couple of times, “Six! What are you doing? Six!” Before the ring of mercenaries began to tighten slowly around her, weapons bared.

16.5
- Branwen

The repeated sounds of gunfire hastened them though the house and lended obscurity to their infiltration. Still, though, they had to stop several times to dodge patrols, guardsmen rushing toward the sounds of Kinetic violence behind the secured estate. Branwen considered striking several times and cutting off some of the reinforcement going for Merlo and 286, but she had to trust in her friend and in their impromptu “plan,” instead of drawing attention to herself. Besides, she’d seen some of the videos of what Prisoner 286 was capable of, and didn’t doubt that both women could hold her own against unprepared forces long enough for Branwen and Zimi to get their part of the job done.

“Here we are, Cap’n.” Zimi, after a moment’s extended fiddling with a pair of thin tools, popped open the locked door to what they understood to be Jori Stone’s private rooms. The girl hadn’t quite been a wraith as they journeyed through the manor’s halls and stairways, but she had come close enough for their needs here. She seemed confident enough in her abilities, yet constantly apprehensive. Though perhaps she was simply nervous about Merlo, just as Branwen was.

Once inside, Zimi closed the door behind them, leaving the illusion that nothing was amiss. Stone’s room was well-appointed, and Branwen was sure that there were many intriguing cultural artifacts on display, but she didn’t have time for them right now. Their first stop was Stone’s desk, and more importantly, the computer sitting atop it. After rushing over, however, Branwen could only stop and stare at it helplessly for a moment.

She didn’t know how to turn it on.

“Zimi, can you take care of the computer? I will search elsewhere.” She began to act even as she spoke; every moment wasted could be a moment too long, even as the rolling thunder of Kinetic impacts from outside served to remind her of her need for haste. To her relief, Zimi activated the machine without any problem, rapidly entering commands into its glowing, projected interface.

A hasty search of the tastefully expensive surroundings turned up little of import to Branwen. Stone didn’t seem to have the same penchant for archaic notation and clever riddles that Don Mateo had indulged in, leaving her own skills mostly useless. “Cap’n,” Zimi called softly to get her attention. “I got it up an’ runnin’. I can’t get in myself, but Mr. Leonard gave me somethin’ that might can crack it.” She produced a long, thin metallic strip from her inner pockets, something Branwen could only vaguely identify as some type of data drive. She thought.

Moments after inserting the object into a port on the computer, Zimi smiled merrily. “You’re amazing, Mr. Leonard.” She glanced back at the Captain. “We’re in, Cap’n.” The girl’s fingers flickered across the keys once more as she searched the computer. Branwen cast about, internalizing the discomfort of being temporarily useless during an important moment. She’d just fully accepted the fact that her investigation was more or less useless here when Zimi got her attention once more with a low whistle. “Cap’n, you’re gonna wanna see this. It ain’t pretty.”

16.6
- Prisoner 286

Gritting her teeth, 286 took one slow stride after another away from Merlo and the fight. Of course, her strides were actually normal speed, and her teeth weren’t really gritted, because she couldn’t.

It just felt like that beneath whatever was dominating her.

Ahead of her, a man in dark, close-fitting body armor reminiscent of Urzran spec-ops took one careful step backward after another. His left arm was bulked out somewhat from all of the armored tech built into it, and his fingers danced back and forth rapidly as they constantly tweaked the data scrolling by on the pad installed into his left forearm.

All the while, the collar embedded into the side of her neck tingled, a constant static that burned along her nervous system with a mild yet fiery intensity. It was incredibly uncomfortable, whatever was controlling her. She’d long suspected that the collar could be set to react to certain actions in a manner likely configurable by Sirrah, such as possessing settings to “disable” her should she get too aggressive, too far away, and other things like that. Whoever this guy was, he seemed to have taken control of it, and then had taken that control even further.

And now he was a dead man walking.

She had known her collar was based on the cruder tech used on some worlds, Urzra included, to control slaves. But if she’d known it was possible for its interface to actually direct feedback impulses into her nervous system like this, the Altairans would have had a much harder time getting it into her. As it was, she raved and railed internally, no more than a twitch of it making its clumsy way to her features. For a long few moments, maybe minutes, she forgot about Merlo, about why she was even here, as she went mentally blind with an all-consuming, murderous rage.

But then it suddenly changed. The anger, the sheer savage animosity, didn’t abate. Nowhere near it, in fact. But since blind fury obviously wasn’t getting her anywhere, it instead crystallized into something else, something even more dangerous. Even as her body walked forward, and that Hel-damned man in front of her chuckled enragingly to himself, she worked along with the rage, instead of letting it control her; letting it consume her completely could and would come later.

So, you think you’re hot shit, huh?
Shutting out all of the outside stimuli and letting the fury and pain push her onward, she concentrated and directed her Kinetics inward, and step by step, began to shut off and redirect parts of her neural pathways with the discipline only she knew, letting a violent current carry her surging down the hidden river of her own body’s impulses.

She’d see who was laughing in a few minutes.
No one
controls my actions but me. Everyone who tries, dies.
He had just skipped way up on her list as the next in line.

16.7
- Branwen

“Jori Stone is a slaver?”

Zimi nodded, a bit grimly. “All that an’ more, Cap’n. Looks like he makes his creds runnin’ military grade weapons an’ stuff both on an’ off the black market, but he’s got a good side job workin’ in human traffickin,’ too.” It wasn’t exactly difficult to hear the tones of disgust and even anger threading their way through Zimi’s words, a sentiment the Captain could echo. Violently, if the chance arose. The girl shook her head. “Mr. Leonard’s cracked the system now, an’ he keeps fetchin’ me more info… I’m afraid it ain’t gettin’ any prettier as we go, Cap’n.”

Branwen slowly became aware of her sword arm’s fist clenching painfully at her side. Trading humans, using them for such purposes,
was not allowed
on Fade. It happened occasionally, of course, but was highly discouraged by order of the Queens of the Realms themselves. Usually this discouragement took the form of a long, slow execution, time permitting, and was mostly enough to dissuade those few who did not inherently find it deeply, morally wrong.

Maybe Stone would happen to come home early.

“Cap’n?” Branwen shook herself back into the moment.

“Sorry, Zimi. What did you find?”

“She’s here, Cap’n.” Branwen leaned over, looking into the screen past Zimi’s shoulder. She wasn’t used to reading text that moved so quickly, and the color of the projected screen held hues that probably didn’t exist for most people, all of which made it hard for her to keep up. After a moment, though, Zimi reached out and stopped the scroll, pointing out and highlighting a certain area. Branwen felt for a moment as if she needed spectacles again, but it all slowly came into focus as she persisted in staring.

A section of highlighted dates and times indicated when exactly, just under a month ago, Jori Stone had come into possession of Kala Tiala. It also showed her auction date, only two days hence.