Destiny Abounds (Starlight Saga Book 1) (44 page)

Sirrah took a deep breath. There wasn’t much she could argue about that point. It was, after all, her request that these people go into danger on behalf of her mentor. And Branwen knew far more about the risks of combat than Sirrah hoped she ever would. “I understand, Captain. I can’t really argue your points, though there are still difficulties, and I wish it were different. Are you so certain that things may devolve into… bloodshed?” Sirrah had never been comfortable with the thought of violence. Even milder pursuits such as the art of fencing had proven difficult for her to take part in, less enjoy.

The Captain grunted and shook her head, and Sirrah could tell that part of her thoughts were far away, already looking forward at the task ahead. “In my experience, the best laid plans never survive contact with reality. And beside that, I would never risk my crew’s life on chance if I could do otherwise.” Her crystalline eyes refocused on Sirrah. “What else complicates the matter?”

Sirrah frowned. The matter in question, while seemingly deemed necessary by Altair, was ever distasteful to her. “Her collar. The explosive device, I mean.” She met Branwen’s eyes and saw a worrisome lack of similar concern mirrored in them. “It’s programmed to detonate on its own if she gets too far away from me.”

The Captain nodded as if that were somehow perfectly reasonable. “Hmmm. Of course. You should have mentioned that before, Kala.”

“Perhaps, Captain. I do apologize, but the majority of my situation with Prisoner 286 is classified, so I do try to keep my discretion where possible.” Sirrah folded her hands, tucking them into the silken sleeves of her red and gold embroidered robe. “I am still worried about the matter, however.”

“How far, and for how long, can the two of you be separated?”

Sirrah took a moment to consider, and Branwen raised an eyebrow. “There’s not a specific limit, Captain,” she explained. “It depends on signal integrity, interference levels, and things like that. Were 286 to go into a communication-shielded area, for instance, I believe it would initiate its failsafe in short order.” Sirrah already knew what to do to rectify the matter; she would simply deactivate the range-detonation properties of the collar for the duration of the venture.

She would
not
risk 286’s life on the hope that their connection could be clearly maintained in Stone’s compound, but neither did she dare let anyone know to what extent she understood and could manipulate the collar’s abilities. To let that information ever get back to Prisoner 286 would be folly that could spell the doom of both the project, and her hopes for it.

Branwen thoughtfully raised a hand to her face as she considered. “I know little of such things, of course,” she finally replied. “But perhaps you could speak with Mr. Leonard about the matter, let him examine the issue, and see if there are any measures we can take to reduce the risk.”

After a moment of weighing her potential concerns, Sirrah nodded. “I would not subject Mr. Leonard to the stress of examining her collar in person, but I do have some of the technical specifications in my cabin. He can likely extrapolate something useful from that information. If not, I will find another way to make this work, I promise."

The Captain seemed to find that agreeable enough. “In that case, do you believe 286 will be willing to assist us in the matter, should it come to conflict?”

Sirrah startled Branwen a little by breaking into sudden, melodic laughter. It was perhaps a sign of her stress levels that Sirrah didn’t really mean to; but she continued as if she had. “I’m sorry, Captain; it’s just that I think 286 would jump at the opportunity to go down there if there was even the slightest chance of there being a conflict. Her eagerness for violence is one of the things that worries me the most.”

To Sirrah’s further worry, the Captain simply shrugged lightly. “I have dealt with similar individuals before, Kala. I will make do.” She nodded her thanks and began to move off toward the hallway.

But before she could leave, Sirrah caught her arm, stopping her and causing her to turn and look deep into her deadly serious expression as she tried to convey the gravity of her worries. “I’m sorry Captain, but I don’t believe you have.”

16.1
- Branwen

Branwen scanned her crew, assembled in the empty cavern of the cargo bay according to her request. The
Destiny
currently sat parked as close as one could get a spaceship to their target destination, and all that was left now was the departure. The past couple of hours had gone very quickly, while Branwen plotted strategy and memorized floor plans passed along by the good Governess Medlava. Merlo had reduced their travel to record time, pushing her already excellent piloting skills even further with a vital task on the line.

She looked over at the girl who was her friend and, for all Branwen could tell, possibly the best pilot in the cluster. The tone of her sturdy frame was obvious as she stood at military attention, wrapped tightly in her protective Arlesian bodysuit. She tossed the argent sheen of her hair away from her face and met Branwen’s blue eyes with her own silvery ones, excitement and readiness mixed in her youthful face.

Next to her, looking almost out of place with her lack of rigid posture, stood Zimi. The girl’s meager sixteen or seventeen winters shone on her fair face, making the twenty or so years Merlo could potentially claim look abundant by comparison. Green eyes looked up from beneath golden brown hair at Branwen, and while Zimi still smiled up at her sweetly, her eyes gleamed with the highlights of worry. She’d changed her typical simple light tunic and leggings out for a black, tight fitting longsleeve shirt and thick, tightly woven pants, complete with a small, dark backpack and hip pouch.

Going down the line to the end was Mr. Leonard. He, of course, dressed as he normally did in a fine suit of charcoal and blue, as he wouldn’t be accompanying them out, though one wouldn’t have known it from his anxious expression. Worry and consternation flowed freely across his young features in alternating storms of emotion, and he fidgeted constantly with his hands, combing back his wispy, platinum hair needlessly again and again. Branwen was amused, as she’d never really noticed the similarity between him and Zimi before, as Mr. Leonard also boasted a soft face, green eyes of a darker shade, and a gentle manner. Furthermore, they were very close in both size and apparent age.

The line of thought sobered Branwen, eventually robbing her of her humor. She really hoped that she wasn’t about to lead a bunch of young people off on a journey that they wouldn’t return from.
Not again.
Her hands curled into fists despite her willpower to the contrary.
Never again.
She’d seen this story unfold too many times, with allies, with friends, with family, and just because she feared it did not mean it would happen here or now. She was a better leader than that. She had to be.

Boots clanking and thumping down the stairs heralded the approach of her two more temporary companions, and she gladly embraced the present moment, letting it shake her from her doubts. She took the opportunity to look them over once more as well, to really absorb who and what they were.

Prisoner 286 swaggered down the stairs with the confidence of a walking weapon. Branwen could virtually smell the eagerness for the fight boiling off her as she sauntered across the room, and the woman had dressed appropriately. Thick, Urzran military style cargo pants hung down over tall, high-laced combat boots. Metal plates gleamed from the toes to match the ones reflecting light from where they were bolted across the knuckles of her dark, fingerless gloves.

Her whole outfit was black, save the patches of lighter camo on her pants and the white lettering on her shirt which read “You Should Be Running.” The shirt’s sleeves were torn free, and it was cropped short of falling to her waist, a stylistic choice that did little to emphasize her more feminine attributes, like her bust, but did much to accentuate the obvious strength in her lightly scarred and heavily toned body. Hazel eyes gleamed with feverish anticipation beneath freshly dyed, black and purple hair. Branwen imagined the coloring lacked its distinctive whitish sheen to these Sky-folk, whose eyes could only perceive the “normal” spectrum of light.

286 couldn’t be a heavier contrast to her companion, as Kala Sirrah Nazai drifted lightly down the metal steps with nary a sound. A long dress of pure white trimmed in ebony Pireidan lacework dripped down the full length of her, obscuring her feet and making her seem to float effortlessly across the ground. Her silky black hair was piled elegantly atop her head, multiple pins shining like gems from where they lay nestled within. Her perfect, symmetrical features and gold-flecked brown eyes were somber, easily showing the regret she chose to show for the necessity of the task at hand.

As for Branwen herself, she had her ever present Skyblade, her new, belt-mounted energy-shielding device, her heavy Koltani coat, her plated war-boots, and the pack of axes strapped once more to the small of her back. Her golden blond hair was braided back out of her way in a simple manner, and she had forsaken any heavier armor for the consideration of stealth, despite the familiar comfort it might have lended her. After her failures in her previous two fights, she’d been practicing and exercising in her quarters daily, attempting to recover a measure of the honed edge she once had. She didn’t need much else, save luck, planning, and the favor of the Fade.
Not much at all.

“Captain.” Sirrah alighted softly on the cargo bay floor, drifting across the metal toward her. She didn’t look nervous, but Branwen would have sworn she felt it, despite the utter lack of evidence. “Are we prepared, then?”

“Well, I don’t care about you guys, but
I’m
prepared.” Prisoner 286 cut across the Kala’s words, earning an unheeded glance from the elegant woman. “Let’s
do
this.” 286 walked over and shoved Merlo playfully from behind, rocking the small woman forward and nearly breaking her position and posture. “You ready, Merlo?” She drawled out Merlo’s name with what might have been fondness.

“Damnit, Six!” The girl grumbled back under her breath. She struggled stoically to hold onto her military discipline, which only encouraged the Prisoner to keep pushing her. 286 then suddenly broke off the action and walked briskly to the still-sealed cargo bay door leading outside, cracking her knuckles in an energetic cascade of noise as she did so. “So when do we do this?” Her voice seethed with the edge of barely restrained violence.

Branwen knew right then and there that it was highly unlikely this venture would go through without ending in bloodshed. She didn’t imagine Prisoner 286 would allow it. The worried glance directed at her from Kala Sirrah lended even further weight to her concerns.

The Captain cleared her throat, distracting the more timid members of her crew from focusing too much on the naked, violent intent in the Prisoner’s tone. “I will keep this simple, as haste is of the essence.” Branwen surveyed her crew, lined up with Merlo once again resuming her stiff, military attention. “Zimi, Merlo, and Prisoner 286 are accompanying me to investigate Stone’s home compound for clues as to Kala Tiala’s whereabouts. We shall attempt to be stealthy, but if Tiala is there, we are going to attempt a rescue, assuming it is feasible. Mr. Leonard and Kala Sirrah will stay behind with the
Destiny
.”

Everyone just nodded. Zimi was obviously nervous yet resolute, while Sirrah glided smoothly over to Branwen’s side, as serene as ever. 286 didn’t appear to be listening, instead thumping her fist arrhythmically and energetically against the still-raised cargo bay door on the other side of the room. Merlo, however, looked bothered. “Captain, may I ask a question?”

Branwen nodded lightly to her. “Of course.”

“Why is Zimi going?” The young girl leaned forward, looking at her even younger crewmate with a pragmatic, but not unfriendly eye. “She’s not exactly a fighter or anything, and if things go backward on us, we’ll just have to watch out for her safety.” Merlo frowned. “No offense.”

Zimi smiled back at the pilot, as if to show her that she held no hard feelings, while Branwen replied. “Zimi has offered to come along to help us with possible issues that may arise with physical security systems. Otherwise she will be another pair of eyes and hands to help search, but will stay away from any combat that might arise.”

Merlo blinked, but nodded. Branwen had expected a follow up query, but none emerged; it seemed Merlo had fallen into her more militant mindset, and was only willing to question Branwen so far. So Branwen continued, figuring that more of Zimi’s background would be revealed when the girl felt it appropriate. “Merlo, 286, and myself are there in case of conflict, while Zimi will help with the material barriers to entry. Mr. Leonard has offered to seize control of the compound’s wireless security grid, so we should have our bases covered.”

She knew as soon as the others reacted to her last statement that she’d perhaps said too much. Zimi and Merlo both blinked in surprise, their eyes going similarly wide, though it was again Merlo who failed to hold her tongue. “Captain, um, that’s not possible.” This time she glanced past Zimi, leaning forward to see Mr. Leonard in line past her. “Maybe you don’t understand how difficult a grid like that is? At least the kind I’m familiar with.”

The young man had his hands folded neatly behind his back, dropping his head and looking extremely embarrassed at the sudden attention; Branwen felt the need to step in to defend him. “I understand that it is indeed possible.”