Chapter 3 #2
Forgetting about the wrong cannon in my arms, I slid it to my back on its strap and helped Brace load the last of the weapons.
Then I was one of many strapping ourselves into a jumpseat, and I was forced to take the damn cannon back in my lap.
It was harder to push away the distaste, the pain the sight of it brought me.
Thankfully, the Sineater boarded the ship and ordered our party to launch, with a smirk that said he took great pleasure in being allowed to cause some destruction shortly.
His armor was a muted black, with sharp spikes along his shoulders and a helmet already partially in place.
His freaky companion, a symbiont he called Val, was at his side, shaped like a beast with a narrow snout and sharply pointed ears.
As the shuttle hummed and Aramon lined us up to exit the hangar bay, the Sineater did not sit down in a seat but remained standing at the center of the narrow aisle, at the head of the packed crates of weapons and supplies.
“Listen up!” he called out. “We’re heading down to Radin to do two things.
” He held up one hand and raised a finger as he went down the list. “First off, we’re going to scout that research post and verify whether anyone is still alive, since Aderia lost contact three weeks ago.
” I’d already heard all the details before, but it helped to keep us all focused to repeat them.
I was keeping my eye on a few of the crew I knew had a hard time obeying orders, to make sure they were listening.
I kicked A’varon in the knee when I saw the Kertinal wasn’t watching Sin like the rest were.
“Second, and this is even more important, rescue the scientists if they’re still alive.
Mission priority: Danitalin Hiraza. We need to secure her at all costs, understood?
” If she was alive. But it was very unlikely—the post had gone out of contact, which rarely happened unless it had been attacked or overrun for some other reason.
Our Aderian mission contact had assured us that an outbreak of something deadly was unlikely, but they hadn’t ruled it out, either.
I was pretty certain this was going to be a retrieval, not a rescue. Either way, we’d get paid.
“This planet is officially part of the Kertinellian Empire, and we’ve been allowed to retrieve the scientists because they’re too busy dealing with an uprising of the locals.
So no pissing off the Kertinals, and watch for Radin’s giants.
Got that?” The Sineater eyed everyone as if waiting for a reply, and when nobody said anything, I kicked A’varon again.
He jerked his head up and yelled, “Aye aye,” on cue, and the rest chimed in.
When silence fell again, we were spiraling down toward the planet in a tight curve.
I could see the green that covered large sections of it, but this was also a world with lots of water—oceans of it.
Sin blocked my view of Aramon at the helm by stepping into my line of sight, his mouth set in a grin that—even numb—I could tell wasn’t nice.
“I know Dravion said you could come, but I wasn’t informed about that cannon. I thought Bex couldn’t be repaired?”
Leave it to Sin to pull a wound wide open; his question, sharp, precise, was like a laser scalpel.
Numbness vanished from one breath to the next, and pain cut through my chest, not real, but intense all the same.
This wasn’t really Bex. I glanced at the cannon I cradled and wanted to throw up; I wanted to hurl it away.
With the Sineater watching me as if he knew exactly what I was feeling, I could not do that.
Hauling air into my lungs, I forced myself to focus on the second-in-command and pretend that pain didn’t exist. Even if it did, it felt like I was losing my sister all over again.
“Ysa gave it to me this morning,” I said through a jaw so tight my gums ached.
“A little extra firepower can’t hurt, can it?
” I said nothing about whether this was Bex or not, I couldn’t.
This was Bex’s barrel, but it wasn’t her, was it?
How could her soul have survived after that much damage?
Perhaps what I really struggled with was: how could mine?
Had I not been torn to pieces just like she had been?
Sin’s expression appeared neutral, his eyes flicking from my face to the barrel of the cannon.
“We can use all the firepower; these Radin giants aren’t nothing.
” Then to the rest, he said, “Prepare for the worst.” Yeah, prepare for a lot of death and destruction, because those giants had likely torn the research facility apart with their bare hands and used the scientists to pick their teeth with.
I focused on that image and channeled rage when I couldn’t manage numbness again.
Dead Aderians, helpless empaths and pacifists, healers with soft hands.
Some Aderians chose a path of protection, of military service and strength.
By far, most were intellectuals and healers.
Their empathic gifts were legendary, which made it all the more bizarre that they’d risk such a valuable asset on a planet this dangerous.
Anger worked. I hated seeing the weak in pain, the weak in danger. Protection was the core of my nature. I’d use this not-Bex, and I’d rescue those little scientists—if they’d survived the giants. If not, I’d damn well avenge them.
My rage was cooling into something sharp and cold, and I had discovered I’d found another famous path toward the Rummicaron, level-headed, emotionless state.
Rage, tempered and forged into a cold blade.
When the shuttle landed at our chosen landing site, I felt like a well-oiled machine: strong, confident, powerful.
We secured the site, set up our protective artillery to cover our retreat, and Mitnick launched his drones to scout. All of it was familiar, all of it came easily, and for a while, I forgot I wasn’t entirely whole.