The Green Knight (Space Lore Book 1) (26 page)

Vere’s head popped out from behind a stone, saw what remained of some of the other boulders, and sighed. As the bounty hunter’s ship arced into a wide turn for another approach, Vere and Morgan stood side by side, waiting for it to get close enough for a lucky shot. Baldwin remained behind the rocks, either because he didn’t believe standing out in the open could possibly be better than standing behind some form of cover or because he guessed the bounty hunter would take aim at Vere before anyone else.

“Any plan?” Vere said as they watched the ship race toward them, low to the ground, for its second pass.

Morgan shook her head and smiled. “I don’t think there are plans for situations like this.”

The ship zipped toward them across the tree line. Vere and Morgan both had their blasters pointed at it, waiting to see the pilot before they bothered wasting shots. If they got lucky, they might be able to hit a fuselage tube or a weapons system panel.

“And to think you’re going to miss out on getting your head chopped off,” Morgan said.

“I know, right. Hilarious.”

Each part of the ship came into view as it got closer—its cockpit, the various panels that had been repaired after previous shootouts. Vere’s trigger finger twitched. But before she could fire, a group of three dots flew out of the forest and landed directly in front of where the ship was flying. An explosion erupted, large enough to damage the front of the rover, forcing it to swerve upward and gain elevation. From the forest edge, Traskk hissed a cheer and showed them he only had one more ion grenade left.

But before turning back around, the bounty hunter’s ship launched a proton missile. At first, the missile was directed away from them, racing out toward space. As it flew, though, it arced until it was flying in the opposite direction, racing directly for them. At the same time, the bounty hunter’s ship turned in the opposite direction until it was also flying toward them again, ready to clean up anything the missile didn’t destroy.

“This isn’t the way I envisioned dying,” Morgan said.

“How did you?”

“With a sword in my hands. Taking on an entire army by myself.”

“Really?”

Morgan nodded. “That was always my fantasy growing up, anyway.”

Vere shook her head in disbelief. “And you think I have issues.”

Both of them leveled their blasters at the approaching ship. Before they could think about the improbability of trying to shoot the missile out of the sky or hope it somehow missed them, another projectile came racing through the air and destroyed it.

She looked up and saw a second ship approaching. It was round with a pair of wings that raced around it in circles like giant propellers.

“Pistol?” she said, then realized she hadn’t seen where he had gone during the fight.

Looking around, she saw him atop a hill, only a small distance away, standing perfectly upright with his arms by his side as if he wasn’t a part of the battle.

“A Corsecc Type E modified—” he started to say but she waved him off from finishing the sentence.

“I’ve never even heard of that type of ship,” she told Morgan. “Definitely not a friend.”

The two of them were sitting targets. The second bounty hunter raced past them once to verify they were the correct targets. When it did, the force of its spinning wings flung the women off their feet, sending them flying backward. Then the ship began a loop to come back around and face them. Before it could, though, the first ship fired a series of laser blasts at it. The second ship responded by releasing a series of atom mines, which were attracted to the ship and then, upon contact, dissolved small sections of it. A hail of shrapnel and burning metal fell from the sky after a mine dissolved the ship’s engines. Vere and Morgan ran to a part of the field not being littered with molten metal.

A third ship appeared, smaller than the others, painted a matte black and with a tinted cockpit. In space, it would be nearly invisible. The fighter immediately began firing at the other bounty hunter, then at Morgan and Vere. Any time either ship got close enough, the two women used their blasters. Neither did any discernible damage, though.

“We aren’t going to last long like this,” Vere said.

“I can’t argue with that.” But even as she said it, Morgan refused to stop firing at the two ships each time they raced by.

At the edge of the forest, Traskk had the last grenade in hand. With a growl and a big windup, he threw it as hard as he could. The black attack ship swerved slightly downward, causing dust and debris to get kicked up all around them. The grenade sailed over the ship, missing completely and exploding near where Baldwin was hiding.

Explosions and blaster fire were going off all around them. Pistol, for all of his maddening quirks, remained on the hilltop watching the explosions without reaction and would continue to do so until given a command to do something else.

Then his head turned, saw yet another ship racing across the open field, and in a booming monotone, said, “M-model Llyushin fighter approaching.”

Vere and Morgan both whooped a cheer, knowing any model of Llyushin was most likely someone sent by the king.

The heavy, armor-plated fighter came in low over the field. The two remaining bounty hunters were still busy firing at each other and at Vere when it appeared over the closest hilltop. Before anyone could respond, the M-model let loose a pair of ion rockets. A trail of energy vapors zipped past the two women, then arced up toward the first bounty hunter’s ship. It exploded so ferociously that there was almost no debris left to fall down from the sky, not even one of its spinning wings.

The remaining ship gave a loud whine as it curved in a semicircle to face the Llyushin fighter. It was only able to fire three cannon shots, all of which were absorbed by the Llyushin’s armor, before it too exploded into a ball of flames. Instead of disintegrating, this ship broke into three large pieces that each sailed off into the distance before causing minor explosions in the Forest of Tears.

The Llyushin fighter came to a stop near Vere and Morgan. The noise from its engine was deafening and made the ground shake. With the ship remaining five feet off the ground, the ship’s ramp immediately descended to the ground. Traskk and Fastolf came running out of the forest. Baldwin finally climbed out from behind the rock he had been hiding behind. Pistol, with no sense of urgency, followed only because it was where Vere had gone.

Inside the ship, Vere and Morgan found a dark corridor and no one to greet them. They followed the passage to the cockpit.

A lone man was there, hovering two feet above the floor. Both of his legs were gone. His hips rested on top of a disc of energy that was fastened around his waist with a harness. The man’s shoulder’s were twice as broad as Fastolf’s belly. His arms were as thick as the base of Traskk’s tail. When he heard them behind him, the disc of energy revolved slightly, causing the man to spin and face them.

“Hector,” Vere said. “Thank you.”

“Sir,” Morgan said, looking downward in deference.

“Looked like you could use some help,” the man said.

A beeping started on the controls next to him. When he leaned forward, the disc of energy underneath his hips moved him toward the displays.

“Two more ships incoming,” he said. “More bounty hunters.”

After a quick check to make sure everyone was aboard, he pressed a button and the ship’s ramp slammed shut. As soon as it was up, he pushed forward on the throttle and the Llyushin fighter began zooming across the open field.

“Thank you,” Vere said again. “We never would have gotten back to my father in time if it hadn’t been for you.”

“You haven’t heard?” Hector said, not looking behind him. When he didn’t receive an answer he added, “I’m sorry, Vere. Your father died last night.”

55

 
“How much longer does he have to be here?” Modred said.

Behind him, the king’s body lay in the same position it had been in for the weeks leading up to his death. Only now, in addition to the finely adorned sheet that covered his body, covering everything up to his neck, an abundance of flowers was also spread around him.

The king’s skin had turned a grayish blue, which made him look more like an android than the former ruler of the CasterLan Kingdom. It didn’t help that the surrounding flowers were every possible shade of reds and oranges and purples and every other color—all of which contrasted with king’s lifeless, ashen skin.

“It’s their custom,” his mother said. “They leave deceased rulers unburied for a week as a sign of respect.” She paused. “Usually, the people are free to come and pay their respects. Thousands of them line up to pay tribute to their king.”

Modred gave a snide laugh. “Can’t someone at least move him out of here?”

“Out of his own chamber?”

“They aren’t his chambers! He’s dead!”

“Modred,” Lady Percy said, walking toward him. But when her hand came within inches of caressing his cheek, he growled and moved away from her. “Modred,” she said, “what has become of you?”

“The people need a stronger ruler. Look at what their king has gotten them into. They are about to be invaded. The Vonnegan fleet can destroy this entire planet if they want to. This is not the time to mourn a dead king.”

“Son,” she said softly.

He turned and looked at her, locks of blond hair moving away from his eyes to reveal how much anger they contained. “The king is dead. You were married to him. And I’m your son, so I should be—”

“Modred…”

“I should be leading Edsall Dark.”

“Modred,” she said again, but her son turned his back and walked away.

56

“The king was sick for quite a while,” Hector said as his ship raced across the fields of Aromath the Solemn.

“It took longer than I thought it would for me to get back here,” Vere mumbled.

Morgan couldn’t be certain whether Vere was referring to the bounty hunters and the Griffin Fire crashing beyond the mountains, or if she was talking about losing six years of her life in the slums of Folliet-Bright. Rather than make a snide comment in front of Hector, she remained silent.

The man piloting the ship was the only person in Morgan’s life whom she considered to be a real life hero. He was also the only person Hotspur regarded as not only an equal, but—and he would never admit this—his superior in every way.

All of their lives, Hector and Hotspur had been friendly rivals, each driving the other to greater heights of military achievement. In every contest, Hotspur did well; Hector did better. At their time in the academy together, Hector had broken every physical fitness record without even attempting to do so. He was promoted to officer sooner than Hotspur. He was given command of a Solar Carrier earlier, too. After Hotspur took a Solar Carrier through the Eiji-77 Portal to defeat a group of rogue traders, Hector commanded six Solar Carriers to quash the Sai-Hoku rebellion, suffering only minor losses.

Eight years ago, however, Hector had lost both of his legs when the Solar Carrier he was commanding had come under attack at the outskirts of the Alchemite Rim—a group of three colonies rebelling against the king. It was only by luck that he had managed to live; most of his crew hadn’t. When he got home, rather than be fitted with bionic legs which would have been stronger and faster than even the record-setting pair he had lost, he chose to remain legless as a reminder of what war could do. Not even Hotspur, his best friend, could convince him to return to duty after that.

Instead of android legs, Hector had chosen to sit atop a gravity pod, a disc of energy that allowed him to move where he wanted. Instead of remaining in the CasterLan military, he had quit his post and refused even to take a position teaching cadets at the academy. Rather than instruct the next generation of pilots and commanders, he made it a point to tell anyone who would listen that war was never necessary. To make his point, he challenged them to look at him hovering a few feet off the ground and remember all of the men and women whose corpses were floating aimlessly in space.

At the same time Hector had turned his back on war, Hotspur had become addicted to it. For the first time in his life, he had seen what he interpreted as weakness in Hector. The man who had been better at everything had witnessed the horrors of space battle and had not only flinched, he had surrendered. The thought drove Hotspur to seek greater glory, and greater glory meant more battles, more victories, more ruthlessness.

Before Hector had nearly been killed and ultimately quit the CasterLan military, Hotspur had been driven, yet subdued. After Hector was gone, however, a change came over Hotspur. He became impatient. Vicious. He had less and less concern for the lives and safety of those around him, and even himself. The only thing that mattered was finally being the best at something.

Over time, he had become a monster. The last time Hector had seen his old friend, he recognized his face, but everything else about him had changed. Morgan had experienced the same thing. Hotspur had gone from being her mentor to a bloodthirsty killer. Day after day, she saw his brutality increase, mostly to the enemy, but also to his own men. It had been one of the reasons she got to Folliet-Bright so quickly after the Ornewllian Compact had been attacked. There was no longer any guessing what Hotspur was capable of. If his king ordered Hotspur to lay waste to CamaLon, Morgan didn’t doubt he would do it.

“Do you have a plan?” Hector asked Vere.

“What do you mean?” she said, ignoring the smug I-told-you-we-needed-a-plan look that Morgan was giving her.

“For all of these bounty hunters to be coming after you, someone must have put a significant bounty on your head. Not many people have that much money, and most who do wouldn’t have an interest one way or the other if you return to Edsall Dark. Combine that with the fact that there was an order for no one to leave the protected sectors of the planet until the curfew was lifted.”

“That was why no one came to rescue us?”

Hector nodded.

Morgan said, “But you did.”

He turned and looked at her. When he did, he squinted ever so slightly, looking at each feature of her face. Probably, he recognized her from years earlier as one of Hotspur’s former lieutenants and wondered whose side she was on now.