Wings of Redemption (The Terra Nova Chronicles Book 3) Read online

  Chapter 17

  The Ultari captain crossed the audience chamber, his reluctance to approach the throne obvious, like a child presenting himself to a parent for discipline after breaking a family heirloom. He kept his head down, his eyes flicking to the sides of the room, looking for reassurance from the other Ultari gathered between the columns.

  You’ll find nothing there, my friend, Jared thought as the captain took a knee at the base of the dais. Those spineless bastards barely have enough reassurance for themselves, much less an outcast like you.

  Standing to one side of the Emperor’s throne, Jared watched as Captain Tral pressed his forehead to the floor and held it there, waiting. This was the first time that Kailani’s replacement as Fleet Commander had presented himself to Kyrios since the Triumvirate had arrived in orbit. Ever since then, he’d been working to establish the Emperor’s fleet in orbit. His presence here today suggested he was nearing completion.

  I’m running out of time, Jared thought. What he really needed was an ally, but trusting any of the Ultari he’d met so far was out of the question. He’d briefly considered making contact with the resistance, but there was no way of knowing if there were any double agents in their midst, waiting for any opportunity to gain favor with the Emperor. Despite how badly he needed help, he couldn’t risk reaching out, couldn’t risk exposing himself and his family.

  Not until he knew they were safe.

  He’d all but given up trying to find Kailani. The former leader of the Exiled Captains hadn’t been seen since just after they arrived on Ultar, and despite his best efforts, Jared hadn’t been able to locate her. The longer she remained in the wings, the more convinced he became that if he found her, he’d find his family. But even with his access to the Ultari Network—access he knew full well was not unrestricted access and was by no means unmonitored—there was only so much Jared could do without alerting the Triumvirate to what he was doing.

  For now, he’d play his part. He’d bide his time. And in the meantime, perhaps he’d make a few Ultari squirm.

  Showtime, Jared thought, stepping forward.

  The Elite Netherguard snapped to attention, striking the butts of their halberds on the floor, making a resounding clang. The kneeling Ultari flinched.

  “State your business, Captain,” Jared said, projecting his voice slightly louder than necessary.

  “Long live the Emperor,” Tral said without looking up. “Thank you, Master, for accepting your humble servant into your presence. I am not worthy.”

  Behind his visor, Jared rolled his eyes but continued on script. “Speak, servant. Our glorious Emperor’s time is valuable.”

  “My apologies, Master!”

  “You have an update on fleet preparations?” Jared asked.

  “Y-yes, Master. If it pleases the Emperor.”

  “Rise then and proceed.”

  The Ultari captain looked up, nervously watching the Elite Netherguard as he rose to his feet. Like all who entered the presence of the Emperor, he understood any misstep would result in his obliteration. His gaze flicked briefly to Kyrios then immediately dropped back to the floor. “My Emperor, our warships have completed their refit and have been outfitted with the upgraded energy weapons you designed. Our available fleet now stands at thirty ships, not counting support vessels.

  “Seventy percent of the commandeered transports have been upgraded and retrofitted as troop carriers for your glorious armies.”

  Jared suppressed a chuckle. Most of the warships Captain Tral spoke of were nothing more than cargo haulers fitted with several inches of armor plating and energy turrets mounted to the hull. Some didn’t even rate receiving the additional armor and were literally unarmored, mobile weapon platforms. They wouldn’t last long under fire, but while they were operational, they’d be capable of producing an impressive amount of firepower.

  Captain Tral continued, “At your command, we can begin loading your forces, Master. Your victory over the Regulos is assured.”

  Cigyd stepped up beside the throne, clearing his throat. “My Emperor, it might not be prudent to withdraw our forces from the planet until the insurgents have been brought to heel.”

  “Indeed,” Kyrios growled, turning his fiery eyes to Pantos, who was already cowering. “I thought your Prefects were going to solve our issues with these traitorous zealots, servant.”

  Pantos bowed. “Forgive me, Master. The rebels are well entrenched within the city.”

  “Incompetent.” Cigyd moved down the steps to the chamber floor, his eyes locked on the Founder.

  “It is no easy task to root them out. Even with their knowledge, my men are having difficulty,” said Pantos.

  Cigyd stopped several paces from Pantos, cocking his head to one side. “They aren’t properly motivated, my Emperor.”

  “Please, Master, my Prefects are the—”

  “Your Prefects?” Cigyd roared, throwing his arms out. Pantos fell to his knees and Jared winced at the thud as the Ultari’s head smacked against the floor.

  “Yours!” Pantos wailed. “Forgive me, Master!”

  “Your pride will be your undoing, servant,” Cigyd said.

  “Yes, Master.”

  “Motivation,” Kyrios mused from his throne, his thin fingers drumming on the armrests. “Yes, proper motivation is key.” He turned to Jared. “Don’t you agree?”

  Behind his visor, Jared ground his teeth. “Yes, Master.”

  “Yes,” Kyrios repeated. “Yes. Motivation to serve.”

  “They’ve been given every opportunity to serve,” Cigyd growled. “We do not have time to wait for them to see the light. We cannot wait to move against the Regulos, my Emperor. Every moment we wait gives the enemies more time to prepare their defenses.”

  Kyrios turned to Jared. “What is the status on your hunt, servant?”

  “I’m making progress, Master. My limited access slows my search considerably. If I could—”

  “Your access to the networks is sufficient,” Prince Zviera said, cutting Jared off. “Perhaps your lack of results is simply a result of your incompetence.”

  The words left Jared’s mouth before he could stop them. “I believe someone inside the Central Control Network is feeding information to the resistance.”

  A tense silence fell over the throne room as everyone present considered the implications of what Jared had said. He’d thought of the idea several days ago but hadn’t wanted to just come right out and say it. This kind of con needed a precise amount of subtly and finesse.

  “I-impossible!” Pantos barked, looking up. “My people are loy—”

  “SILENCE, SERVANT!” Kyrios roared. He leaned forward on the edge of his throne, glaring down at Jared. “What proof do you have?”

  Jared held his hands out. “It’s the only explanation for the ease with which they have slipped through my fingers. Once or twice maybe, but not consistently like they have been.”

  Cigyd clasped his hands behind his back. “And what makes you think it’s not simply a result of your incompetence?”

  Jared glared at the Archduke from behind his visor. “I strive for perfection, Master.”

  After a few long moments, the Emperor sat back. “A troubling development. Our descendants are weak.”

  “They lack competent leadership,” Cigyd growled.

  Pantos bowed again. “Please, Master, I—”

  “Enough,” Kyrios said, waving a hand. “It seems we have been too lenient with our children. Obviously, they require a firmer hand.”

  “We should obliterate them all,” Cigyd said. “We don’t have time for these games. End the resistance completely and begin anew. A unified Ultari Empire,” he glared at Pantos, “with servants who are completely loyal and competent. Instead of chasing them all over the planet, we simply wipe them out and end this wasteful and prolonged conflict.”

  “Ah, Cigyd, but we don’t need to obliterate them all,” Zviera said. “And we don’t need to chase them either. We simply
let their own people bring them to heel.”

  “That tactic has failed,” Cigyd said. “Or have you not been paying attention?”

  “Oh, I’ve been listening. And you’re right. We can’t afford to waste time rooting these dissidents out. They are an infestation, nothing more. Once you’ve located the nest, you eradicate it.”

  Cigyd laughed. “But that’s the issue, isn’t it? Finding the nest.”

  “As you said, our servants require motivation. Fortunately for us, we have such a motivator at our fingertips.”

  Jared’s mind raced, trying to make the connection before anyone else did. The Prince was probably the most ruthless of the three, relatively speaking. He had no doubt that if victory required the sacrifice of the entire galaxy, Zviera would burn it all down and rule over the ashes.

  “Explain,” Kyrios said.

  Zviera bowed his head slightly. “My Emperor. A few well-placed strikes from the orbital bombardment platforms on certain areas of the city, I believe, would provide significant encouragement for our children to turn away from their evil ways and turn over those who fail to submit. Family and friends are great motivators, wouldn’t you say, Herald?”

  Jared’s blood boiled. It was everything he could do to keep himself from raising his hand and reducing the smug bastard down to his base atoms. He held his breath, knowing if he breathed, he was liable to say something he’d regret. With much effort, he managed a nod, acknowledging the Prince.

  A look of understanding came over Cigyd’s face. “You’re a devious one, Zviera.”

  The look on Pantos’s face, still kneeling before the throne, was one of pure terror, as if he couldn’t believe what was being contemplated.

  That’s right, Jared thought. These are your new Gods. How does it feel to know they’re willing to crush your entire world without a second thought if it doesn’t suit their purposes?

  Despite his enjoyment of tormenting the Ultari who addressed the Triumvirate, Jared’s stomach turned at the thought of randomly killing so many. Summary executions had always been part of invasions and wars dating back all the way to the Stone Age, but this…

  “I can find them,” Jared said before he could stop himself.

  Cigyd turned, his arms still clasped behind him. “We’re past that, servant.”

  “Give me unlimited access to the system, Master,” Jared said, already fearing the response. “Give me two days. I will track them down.”

  Stupid, Jared told himself. What would happen when he couldn’t deliver?

  “Your arrogance is as bad as this one’s,” Cigyd said, nodding to Pantos.

  “And what makes you think you can track these traitors down, servant?” Kyrios asked.

  “I’m close,” Jared lied. “Even with the limited access, I’m close.”

  The Emperor considered Jared for a long moment. “You understand the price of failure, servant?”

  Jared swallowed the bile rising in his throat. Thoughts of Sarah or Mary crying out for him to save them flashed in his mind. Images of Netherguard ripping them from their stasis pods and ramming the blade tip of their halberds through their chests almost brought him to his knees. He would not let that happen.

  Jared gritted his teeth. “Yes, Master.”

  “Very well,” Kyrios said. “The clock is ticking.”

  ****

  “Release Drone Six.”

  A panel on MAC’s back opened and one of the new Mark-II drones zipped clear of its housing. As soon as the unit was clear, the panel closed again with a small clink. The drone shot away, disappearing into the darkness of the underground sewage tunnel. MAC’s enhanced thermal and infrared optical sensors tracked it for an additional .25 microcycles, then he was forced to rely on the remote display sent back from the drone’s sensors.

  The drone will…zzzzt…reach the junction-junction in…zzzzt…another two microcycles.

  “We’ll wait here,” MAC said. “Have Drones Seven through Ten on standby, just in case.” He scrolled through the feeds from the other five drones already in position. Four and Five were orbiting high above the target building, watching for any sign of Netherguard or Prefects. The Triumvirate’s forces had been sweeping through the city with increasing ferocity, detaining suspected resistance fighters or sympathizers, which seemed to be almost everyone they located.

  MAC had managed to evade the patrols and, with his new drones, was able to keep track of at least one resistance leader at the same time. Today, however, most of the resistance leaders had congregated in one location, something they hadn’t done in several days. It was a meeting MAC couldn’t afford to miss.

  Drone One is in position-position and transmitting, CID said as a panel appeared on MAC’s optical display.

  The feed showed the interior of a massive warehouse filled with rows of trucks, large shipping containers, and several counter-grav tanks. Boxes of supplies and racks of weapons covered the floors, and several Ultari were carrying the crates out, taking them to waiting vehicles outside. At the far end of the building, several squads of Ultari were practicing disembarking from the flatbed trucks.

  Directly below the drone, several Ultari stood around a rectangular table examining a holographic wireframe building that rotated just above the surface. A second hologram depicted the head and shoulders of one of the Exiled Captains, Tral.

  “Now that’s interesting,” MAC said.

  Troubling, CID said.

  “Explain.”

  All the available evidence-evidence we’ve uncovered so far suggests…zzzzt…the traitor is someone in-in-in Kyrios’s inner court. By all accounts, Tral has been in orbit-orbit, overseeing the construction…zzzzt…of the fleet. It is-is-is highly unlikely that he’d have the inside knowledge displayed by the communications to date.

  “But he is present all the same. Along with several others we’ve not previously identified as resistance fighters.”

  The presence-presence of so many additional targets suggests…zzzzt…that they are preparing to launch their counteroffensive, CID announced.

  “Agreed. Launch three more drones. Extend our detection perimeter another five blocks.”

  Working.

  General Mortas stood at the head of the table, running the meeting despite the presence of several Collective leaders and Septemus, who’d become the de facto leader of the resistance. CID’s facial recognition routines identified several new Collective leaders and their executives. It seemed that the resistance had grown significantly in the past several days.

  “Our hit-and-run tactics are doing nothing!” Gruldal said, leaning forward, his fists on the table. “The time for these games is over. We need to attack now.”

  “Agreed,” Alcorg said.

  “Most of our cells are prepared,” Septemus said. “Our larger units need another day to be ready.”

  “Agreed,” Mortas said.

  Gruldal growled but said nothing.

  “We should have initiated Phase Two already,” Alcorg said, crossing his arms. “We need to put the Triumvirate on guard.”

  “More than they already are?” Welsi said. The weapons dealer shook his head. “The number of Netherguard has tripled over the last few days—not to mention the Prefects.”

  Gruldal spat. “I will put my dagger through each of their hearts.”

  “The Prefects I’m not worried about,” Mortas said. “It’s the Netherguard. They fight hard and fast and fearless. It’s extremely difficult to separate and conquer. They’re able to link and coordinate their attacks.”

  Alcorg shook his head. “What is it, telepathy?”

  Before Mortas could answer, Welsi spoke up. “They’re Regulos droid fighters, nothing more. It’s the same technology that destroyed our world during the Uprising. They’re an abomination, and despite what that damned Herald preaches, the Triumvirate are not our true leaders.”

  Mortas nodded. “It’s not telepathy, but I don’t think they rise to the level of Regulos precision. They’re individuals,
following orders without hesitation.”

  “Our leaders could take a lesson,” Gruldal muttered.

  Mortas and Septemus glared at him but said nothing.

  “What about Phase Two?” Alcorg asked.

  Mortas turned to Captain Tral’s flickering image.

  “The elements are almost in place,” Tral said. “Our best estimates indicate everything should be in place in two days—sooner if we can disrupt the Netherguard’s progression up from the surface. The more troops we have to deal with onboard the ship, the harder it will be.”

  “So we need a distraction?” Septemus asked.

  “It’d have to be a big one,” Mortas said. “We’ll need to bring in some of the heavy weapons. We can spare a few of the tanks.”

  Septemus shook his head. “Don’t like the idea of exposing our capabilities.”

  Gruldal slammed a fist on the table, shaking the holo projector. Captain Tral’s image teetered slightly before settling. “Blast our capabilities! We need to destroy them. Move right into Phase Two.”

  “We aren’t prepared yet,” Mortas said. “And revealing we have the tanks may force the Emperor to rethink his strategies. The question is where to attack.”

  “Central Control?” Alcorg suggested.

  Septemus shook his head. “Too obvious.”

  “Not to mention, it’s heavily fortified and guarded by a thousand Netherguard,” Mortas added.

  “Any target we choose needs to have an impact on their operations,” Septemus said. “Distraction or no.”

  “What about their new droid-processing facility?” Welsi said. “They’ve been moving a fair number of Prefect prisoners through there as well.”

  Gruldal spat at the mention of the Prefects. “Traitors.”

  “How big of an operation are we talking about here?” Alcorg asked.

  “Big enough to knock them back a few steps,” Mortas said. “If we can put them off-balance, it’ll make for a larger impact once we do begin Phase Two.”