The Excalibur (Space Lore Book 2) (37 page)

“It’s the only way,” Vere said.

She and Morgan stared at each other. Finally, Morgan reached a hand up and let it rest on Traskk’s shoulder. Understanding what was being asked of him, the Basilisk growled once more. Then, seeing the sadness in Vere’s eyes, he released his grip on Mowbray’s neck.

The Vonnegan ruler did his best to maintain an air of dignity, but he couldn’t help coughing and gasping as he rubbed his neck. Once he was free, three of the Fianna stepped in front of him, ensuring Morgan and Traskk backed away.

“He’s not going to kill me,” Vere said. “He gave me his word.”

Morgan and Traskk looked at Mowbray.

“It’s true,” Mowbray said. “She will not be executed. Instead, she will live out her days working on the Cauldrons of Dagda.”

Traskk roared. A glowing blade of a vibro halberd blocked his path toward Mowbray.

Morgan groaned and closed her eyes for a moment. “Vere,” she said, stepping forward. A pair of halberds kept her from getting any closer. “Just let him kill you. You don’t know how bad it will be.”

Vere was the only one of the three who didn’t seem to mind what the punishment meant. All around the galaxy, people knew the Cauldrons of Dagda as a prison where the inmates killed themselves rather than face another day of the misery there. And that was the place Vere was being taken.

88

Junior Lieutenant Taz San had never seen combat before this. Out of the academy two years earlier, he had trained for this type of battle, but had never actually been a part of vessels firing upon and destroying each other. Now, the Solar Carrier he had been aboard was a twisted wreck and he was floating in space in the middle of the fighting.

A Llyushin fighter soared passed, the pilot too busy evading the four Thunderbolts behind him to notice San. An Athens Destroyer began unloading its cannons on another Solar Carrier. Each time it did, a massive laser beam passed within arm’s reach of where San was floating in his space armor.

Helpless, all he could do was watch.

Only three of the outfitted Excalibur ships remained, and one of those was flying in wide, looping circles. Whichever officer had been in charge of piloting it via a remote control from the deck of a Solar Carrier must have perished aboard his vessel.

Seeing the slowly moving Excalibur ship circle the battle, the Athens Destroyers paid minimal attention to it—enough to ensure the vessel didn’t ram them but not enough to keep out of its blast radius.

Junior Lieutenant San also noticed this. Looking around, he knew he wasn’t going to be saved. There might have been a dozen other survivors from his Solar Carrier, each floating in space somewhere nearby, each hoping to be rescued. But for all practical purposes, the young soldier knew he was on his own. The other CasterLan ships were either in the process of being decimated or else were slowly backing away from the battle. No one was going to come get him—no one from his side, anyway. The Vonnegans would either ignore him and let his oxygen supply run out, or else a Thunderbolt pilot would use him for target practice. His life was in his own hands and no one else’s.

To his right, a group of three Athens Destroyers was unloading on another Solar Carrier, which was engulfed in explosions and internal flames. In the distance, another Excalibur ship exploded, taking out a pair of Destroyers.

The looping and aimless Excalibur Armada ship was making another circle around the battle. As it did, all of the other ships ignored it, even allowing it to pass right by them with the understanding that it was aimless and posed no threat.

“For the CasterLan Kingdom,” San said, then took a deep breath and tapped the button on his sleeve.

A tiny burst of air was expelled from his suit, sending him drifting across space, directly toward the Excalibur ship. As he moved, a Llyushin fighter was caught by a trio of Thunderbolts and destroyed. A Solar Carrier broke into three pieces, one of which exploded while the other two drifted away.

As the battle raged on around him, the young soldier thought about how different his life had been from how he had envisioned it when he was a child. He had dreamt of adventures and quests and had visions of exploring new worlds and meeting every possible type of alien species. He had thought about diving into a portal and reappearing somewhere else in the galaxy and had considered living on colonies and moons. The reality was that he had rarely left Edsall Dark, and had never been through a portal before, even though one floated on the other side of the battlefield. Such was life.

As the uncontrolled Excalibur ship approached, the Junior Lieutenant held his breath. The legendary vessel would either run right into him and kill him, miss him completely, or else his plan would work perfectly. There was no in-between.

It was terrifying to see just how large the vessel was as it approached. One moment San was sure the Excalibur ship would hit him and that no trace of him would be left behind. Another moment he was sure he wouldn’t get there in time and the vessel would continue in its slow loops. Then his hand reached out and grabbed the rear edge of the ship as it passed.

Holding onto the vessel, Taz San pulled himself toward the engines that had been tightened onto the back of the craft. There, he found the remote drill that had also been attached to the ship.

He talked to himself while he waited for the next Athens Destroyer to come into sight. He said something for each member of his family, hoping they might somehow hear his wishes. He laughed at the silly fears he had allowed to hold him back when he was younger.

Then the sun was blotted out and San knew another Vonnegan flagship was near the roaming Excalibur ship. It was time. Manually turning the drill so that it pressed into the Excalibur’s metal, the young soldier closed his eyes and pictured being back home with his family.

It was the last thing he thought of. The Excalibur ship’s self-destruct was triggered and the Athens Destroyer next to it was completely obliterated.

89

“One last thing,” Mowbray said. “Which one of you destroyed the portal above Edsall Dark six years ago?”

Vere knew why he was asking; whoever had pressed the button had killed Mowbray’s son.

Morgan and Vere looked at each other, neither of them blinking.

Before Morgan could reply, Vere said, “Me. I did it.”

Mowbray looked over at Morgan. Morgan, not caring how many Fianna stood between herself and the Vonnegan ruler, stared back at him in defiance.

Mowbray asked if she was sure.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Vere said.

Mowbray still didn’t take his eyes off Morgan when he said, “Then I guess we’ll have to find something appropriate for you at the Cauldrons.”

Traskk growled again, saliva hanging from his fangs.

Although most of the Athens Destroyers had stopped firing, the war was still raging. Ballona’s space-to-space missile batteries hit another Solar Carrier, which broke into two large pieces and drifted away. A squadron of Thunderbolts raced through every part of the fighting, taking shots at every CasterLan ship in their paths. Arc-Mi-Die’s forces had moved into position at the side of another Solar Carrier and were unloading their cannons on it.

“Pistol,” Vere said. “Send the command up to the ships. Get them out of here.”

The android’s eyes glowed as the transmission was sent up into space. As they watched, the Solar Carriers had refused to flee the battle began to file away from Dela Turkomann.

The Fianna nudged Vere forward again. She was a few steps closer to Mowbray’s shuttle when the Vonnegan ruler said, “There is one last thing. Put this on your reptilian friend here.”

He signaled for one of the Fianna to hand him something. Without looking to see what it was, he walked to Vere and gave it to her.

“A Kessy Cube?” she asked.

“Put it on your friend there,” Mowbray said, pointing to Traskk.

“I’m going with you,” Vere said. “That was the deal. Isn’t that enough?”

Mowbray rubbed his neck. The skin there, which normally had a purplish tint, was the deep color of his guard’s uniforms.

“No,” he said. “I cannot let anyone get away with what he did to me.” When Vere hesitated, he added, “I will not kill him. You have my word.”

She left the guards and walked up to Traskk. As soon as she was close enough, he wrapped his arms around her and wouldn’t let go. A series of soft coos escaped from his throat as he held onto her.

“Please,” she whispered in his ear. “Please, for me.”

He held her for a while, soft pleading sounds coming from deep inside his throat. Then he let her go and closed his eyes. She pressed the Kessy Cube against his hip. Instantly, a spark of light ignited, then, before anyone could blink, traced his entire frame like a lightning flash.

The Basilisk let out a groan but didn’t move.

“He is immobilized,” Mowbray said to everyone. Then, turning to Scrope, he said, “I gave my word I wouldn’t kill him.
You
will be the one to do it.”

Scrope’s face turned white and he gulped. He looked sick to his stomach. He didn’t move from where he stood.

Shaking her head, Vere said, “Morgan, go to the ship. Take Pistol with you.” Morgan didn’t move. “Morgan, please.”

Morgan’s Meursault blade cut tiny circles of air in front of her as every muscle in her shoulders and arms flexed. “I’m not going to let them kill Traskk.”

“Morgan, please. There’s been enough death today.”

Morgan turned and looked at everyone before her. Vere was going to die in the galaxy’s worst prison. Traskk had become another prisoner. And now she was being asked to just walk away.

“I won’t forgive you for this,” she said to Vere.

Vere opened her mouth to say something, then closed it and nodded.

“Let’s go,” Pistol said, a hand resting on Morgan’s arm.

The two of them began walking across the desert. Halfway to Morgan’s ship, they separated. Pistol began walking toward the Griffin Fire, and Morgan continued ahead toward the Pendragon.

Mowbray took Vere’s sword from the Fianna who had confiscated it, then walked to Scrope. With one hand, he handed the sword to the conniving diplomat. With the other hand, he gripped Scrope’s shoulder and pulled him over to where Traskk was standing.

“His tail,” Mowbray said.

Scrope was squinting in the sun. He looked at everyone around him but the people he looked at either didn’t acknowledge him, detested him, or wanted him dead.

“His tail,” Mowbray hissed. “Don’t make me ask again.”

Scrope let the sword’s tip drag through the sand as he stepped forward. Completely immobilized, the Basilisk couldn’t even let out a menacing growl.

Scrope took one last look at Mowbray, saw that his new ruler was losing patience with him, then brought the sword down. Traskk’s tail came away from his body. Free of the Kessy Cube, the tail’s muscles contracted, causing it to slither on its own accord for a moment before falling still.

In the distance, Morgan saw what had happened and started back. Vere shook her head, pleading for her friend to stay where she was.

“There, I did it,” Scrope said, holding the sword back out for Mowbray.

Vere took a step forward and said, “Now let him go.”

One of the Fianna pressed the blade of his halberd against her face to keep her from moving forward any further.

The Vonnegan ruler shook his head. “His arms.”

“No,” Vere said, but another Fianna tapped her on the back with his halberd to keep her from saying anything else.

Scrope groaned. “Please, I—”

Mowbray said, “Every new leader needs to get their hands a little bloody. Right, Vere CasterLan?”

Vere only looked up at the sky, happy to see her ships and the people who were still alive able to live another day.

When Scrope didn’t move, Mowbray said, “His arms. And this is the last time I repeat myself.”

One of the Fianna stepped forward, and Scrope knew that if he didn’t do as he was told, a halberd would slice him apart and everything he had done up to this point would be for nothing.

“Mowbray, please don’t,” Vere begged.

Mowbray stared at Scrope and gave a slight nod.

The sword came down. Traskk’s right arm was the first to go. It thudded on the desert sand, the palm and claws facing up. The sword came down again. Traskk’s left arm joined the right one on the sand. And still, the Basilisk stood motionless under the Kessy Cube’s power, a pitiful look on his face because he knew what was happening but couldn’t do anything about it.

Turning her head, Vere saw that Morgan was watching all of this from the cockpit of the Pendragon.

“His legs,” Mowbray said.

Vere tried to step forward. “Mowbray, please.”

One of the Fianna brought handle of his weapon down on the back of her neck. Her knees buckled and she fell to the sand.

The Vonnegan ruler didn’t take his eyes off Scrope. And this time, the politician didn’t need to be told twice. With one stroke, both legs were cut off and Traskk’s torso went crashing down into the sand. His leathery face hit first, his snout becoming buried an inch deep in the sand. Every other part of him—his tail, his legs, his arms—were scattered in the sand around him.

“No!” Vere yelled, trying to drag herself across the sand toward her friend. She didn’t make it two steps before one of the Fianna put a boot down on the back of her neck and drove her into the hot desert floor.

With the Kessy Cube attached to Traskk’s leg, he could begin moving his face and mouth again. A string of roars was followed by a succession of curses and threats in Basilisk. Each roar was muffled, though, as the reptile faced downward and couldn’t do anything to turn himself over. Without Vere or Pistol to translate, no one could understand what he was saying, and Mowbray only chuckled at the ferocious sounds.

“Edsall Dark is yours,” Mowbray said to Scrope. “Tell the warlord and the gangster that they have immunity from my forces as long as they stay in their sectors.”

Scrope bowed. “Thank you, My Lord.”

With Pistol at the controls of the Griffin Fire and Morgan in the cockpit of the Pendragon, both ships launched into space and began to fade into the distance.