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Chapter 13

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Jayce’s knees ached with every step as he ran down a passageway, heavy pack on his back. Eabani kept an easy pace behind him.

“Why—why do I have to carry everything?” Jayce asked between pants.

“No quartermaster beyond the Veil, squeaky. You need it, you better have it,” Eabani said.

Jayce focused on the end of the passageway and ran past tall double doors.

“Ack!” Jayce’s feet flew out in front of him when Eabani grabbed him by the pack and jerked him back. The alien held Jayce a few inches over the deck with one hand as the other punched in a code to the door controls.

“Why aren’t you the one carrying all this?” Jayce wiggled amidst the pack straps holding him aloft.

Eabani dropped him and the doors slid open, revealing a hangar. Inside was a small ship slightly bigger than the fishing cutters he crewed back home. The hull was blocky with sharp angles and obvious point-defense turrets and missile ports. A ramp from the dorsal side was down. Maru and Sarai chatted at the base of the ramp. The Paragon turned his helmet to the door, then back to Sarai.

Dastin came clomping down the ramp. His one cyborg hand had been replaced with a crude claw. His bale eye was gone, a dark patch over the socket. A crossbow was slung over his back.

None wore their Governance uniforms and instead wore rougher climate gear like Jayce.

“Preflight checks are done.” Dastin hooked a thumb over his shoulder up the ramp. “Daylight’s burning. Let’s get dirtside before we see anyone in orbit that’s got it out for us.”

“What is this?” Jayce asked as he waddled forward under his heavy pack. He ran a hand down the reentry-scorched hull.

“You like? Inner Core smuggler didn’t pay her license and registration fees for this cutter and she decided to surrender it before she had to pay even more fines.” Dastin winked at Jayce, then went back up the ramp.

“I seized this ship several years ago as part of an operation against smugglers,” Maru said. “The integrated stealth systems are rather useful when we need to hide the Governance’s hand during an operation.”

“We’re not going to do that shunting thing up and down?” Jayce asked.

“Only works on latents and Attuned,” Sarai said. “If the Iron Soul shunts anyone else . . .”

“Can barely lock onto us.” Eabani nudged Jayce aside with his shoulder as he ascended the ramp. “I saw the aftermath of a shunting from some fraud that had a Fulcrum on him and claimed to be some long-lost Attuned. It was messy.” Eabani’s frills shivered.

“Damn fools should know when they’re in over their heads.” Sarai gave Jayce a look and followed Eabani up the ramp.

Jayce bowed slightly and hefted his pack higher onto his shoulders with a quick thrust from his hips.

“Why do I feel like she wasn’t talking about some generic fraud just then?” he asked Maru.

“Every journey into the Veil has its dangers,” Maru said. “But you are in good company, Jayce. I have yet to die during any of my pilgrimages. Only had to break my anchor twice.” He started up the ramp.

“That ‘yet’ word bothers me.” Jayce raised a foot to step onto the ramp. “Where are my manners? Permission to come aboard, sir.”

Maru canted his head slightly at him.

“Permission granted. Welcome aboard the Thorn.”

Jayce took small steps up the ramp. The incline and the weight on him kept his pace slow. Inside the cargo bay of the ship were smaller recesses for containers, all blocked off with thick webbing. The place smelled of old oil and ozone. Dark starbursts on the hull framing and a few too-clean patches on the deck gave Jayce pause.

“I thought you said this ship was seized for taxes or something. Looks like there was a fight,” he said to Sarai.

“There was. Previous owner had some disagreements with her suppliers before we caught up to her. The aggrieved party’s probably the one that tipped us off that this ship was running under a false transponder.” Sarai shrugged. “Criminals. Never trust them.”

A sailor in mufti took Jayce’s pack from him and tossed it into a recess along with four other packs. Another sailor climbed into the upper turret and was sealed inside.

“They’re not coming with us?” Jayce rolled sore shoulders and pointed at the four other sailors moving around the cutter.

“Why do you think that?” Maru asked.

“They’re not carrying all the heavy shit we are,” Jayce said.

“They are not.” Maru sat in a crash seat and buckled himself in. Jayce and Sarai sat on either side of him. “The larger our party, the more attention we’ll garner. With the Tyrant’s agents involved, it’s best to avoid them until we have the strength to deal with a battleship once and for all.”

“Are they going to be down there?” Jayce asked. His heart beat faster as the memory of his dream came back.

“Possibly.” Maru signaled to a crewman and the ramp rose with a hydraulic hiss. “Uusanar didn’t detect them when we came out of FTL. But that doesn’t mean they didn’t beat us here and are elsewhere in-system keeping a low profile.”

“How could something that big beat the Iron Soul?” Jayce asked as he buckled himself in.

“Mass does not matter in FTL space,” Maru said. “If the stone master has the skill to guide his ship through the fasted paths, he can take them—though there is much more risk maneuvering a ship like that. I don’t suggest you ask Uusanar about it, he will not shut up about the topic.”

“Unless you want to be a stone master.” Sarai leaned forward to look at Jayce. “But you probably should’ve done that before you got aboard, hmm?” She leaned back.

“And what if we see the Tyrant’s own again?” Jayce asked. “What’s Dastin going to do to them with a crossbow?”

“No projectile weapons allowed in a Belmont town,” Maru said. “No open violence either. We come across the Tyrant’s own and the smart thing to do is keep your distance from them. Outside the town is a different matter.”

“Why would they do ‘the smart thing’?” Sarai asked.

“I have dealt with the Tyrant’s agents and soldiers for many years, Sarai. They’re not stupid. We’re far from the few systems they control on the edge of the Deep, just as we are far from Governance space. Belmont towns earned their reputations for neutrality and swift justice. Let’s not be the stupid ones down there, agreed?”

“Yes, Adept.” Sarai glared at Jayce.

“What? I haven’t done anything down there yet!” Jayce tossed his hands up.

“Don’t worry. There’s a big difference between ignorance and stupidity. I’m sure if you make any mistakes, it’ll be from one and not the other,” Maru said.

“Thank you, Adept . . . Wait a minute. Which one do you think I’ll do?” Jayce furrowed his brow.

Thorn ready to depart,” Uusanar’s voice boomed through the ship. “I want all of you to come back whole. We would be less without you. Iron Soul, out.”

“Hold on.” Maru nestled back into his seat.

There was a clank and the cutter fell out of the larger ship and nosedived toward a brown, cloudy planet. The Thorn rattled as turbulence shook the small vessel. Licks of flame cast red light through the portholes and into the cargo bay.

Jayce held onto his shoulder straps and squeezed his eyes shut as his last meal threatened to jump out of his mouth with each jolt to the ship.

Dastin let out a long hoot.

“Ha-ha! Who doesn’t love a good old-fashioned death drop?” the gunnery sergeant shouted from his crash seat on the other side of the cargo bay. Eabani thumped a fist into Dastin’s chest to quell his enthusiasm, but the Marine only laughed harder.

Jayce looked to Maru for any kind of reassurance, but the Adept’s helm hid his emotions. The Thorn leveled out and blood rushed out of his head. He fought to breathe and his face suddenly went cold.

“Tighten your thigh and stomach muscles,” Maru said. “It will help.”

Jayce grunted and squirmed in his seat.

A few moments later, the awful sensation of too much gravity pulling in strange directions faded away.

“Contact with port authority established. You’re not going to like the parking fees, Adept,” came from the ceiling.

“This is good news.” Maru unbuckled his harness and went to the cockpit.

“How are high mooring fees ‘good news’?” Jayce wondered out loud.

“It means there are a lot of . . . pilgrims here.” Sarai touched her buckle, but a sudden bout of turbulence sent her hand to grip a strap. “If there’s that many, then we didn’t miss the Aperture and our only chance to become Adepts and claim a stone. If we were too late, they’d all be gone and parking would be cheap. This isn’t hard to figure out.”

“He’s not going to spew.” Eabani held a palm out to Dastin. “Pay up.”

“Kid keeps letting me down.” Dastin slapped a pair of coins in the alien’s hand.

“We shouldn’t have to pay anything.” Sarai unlocked her hilt and twisted it in her hand. “The Governance—or even the Sodality—needs to control these Aperture worlds. We just leave it to the Syndicate and the freaks.”

“Governance doesn’t have the manpower to put outposts on the tens of thousands of potential Aperture systems,” Dastin said. “Then there’s the logistics chain to hard-bore worlds. Something comes out of the Deep for the outpost and there’s no way we could get to them in time, ma’am.”

“We had the strength before the Tyrant’s coup,” she muttered.

“What kind of coin do they use down there?” Jayce rubbed his thighs. “This place a trade lash-up or a service flotilla?”

“Your feet ever touch grass before?” Dastin narrowed his eyes at him.

“I walked around the Dry Caldera a couple of times. It’s the top of a dead volcano,” Jayce said.

Eabani laughed, short keek-keek-keek hisses at Jayce. “Best stay close to us, kid. Young Miss is about to graduate from ever needing us again, but that doesn’t mean our priorities will get confused if you get into trouble.”

“I do not need you two.” Sarai rolled her eyes. “When am I ever out of Adept Maru’s gaze?”

“That time on Borshalt Station. That dock arm was obviously damaged, but you went in there anyway. Or the tectonic resonance facility on that dead Aperture world.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that wasn’t my fault?”

“The safety overrides said, ‘Don’t Touch,’ in thirty-seven different human and alien languages.” Eabani worked his lower jaw from side to side. “We saw what you did.”

“I didn’t—”

“Got the video right here.” Dastin unsnapped a ruggedized data slate off his thigh armor.

“You said you deleted that! Don’t make me—don’t make me tell my mom you lied to me,” she said.

“But then she’d see this.” Dastin waggled his one eyebrow at her.

“Ugh! You two can go be ‘real Marines’ again after this,” she said. “I won’t need you at all.”

“My people demand a hatchling draw blood from their brood tenders in ritual combat to prove they can survive beyond the nest,” Eabani said. “What is the human equivalent?”

“Defiance of authority followed by minimal communication and a whole bunch of avoidable mistakes. You’re seeing it happen right in front of you,” Dastin said. “Honestly, your way sounds a bit cleaner for all involved.”

The shuttle rolled slightly from side to side.

“Landing zone ID’d.” Dastin pointed at Sarai and Jayce. “Keep your hilts hidden. Don’t need to flag what you are. Assume everyone we see’s smart enough to figure out what you are if you act stupid, so act as knob as possible. Get me?”

Jayce unbuckled and moved his hilt to a back pocket on his belt that must have been purpose built to conceal the weapon.

“Here.” Dastin tossed Sarai and Jayce small sacks of coins.

Jayce felt a tiny shock when he squeezed the bag. He opened the purse and shook up a bunch of glittering coins. They were all the same size, but each was designed differently: simple stamps of runes on one, an intricate depiction of an ancient battle on another, reliefs of humans and aliens. He plucked one up and held it to the light.

“Is that Adept Maru?” he asked.

“Yes, from when he returned from his Adept pilgrimage,” Sarai said. “That was over a century ago. You feel that twinge? Means there’s Veil-stone fragments imbued in the coins. It’s the only currency accepted on Aperture worlds. Each are worth a couple hundred quanta, so don’t waste them.”

“Wow.” Jayce tested the weight again. “I’ve never had this much money in my hand before. How can things be so expensive down there?”

“Boomtown, kid,” Dastin said. “The guys selling shovels and wheelbarrows are going to make plenty of money while the ones who take all the risk in the Veil may or may not come out with enough stones and flecks to cover their expenses. Couple will end up wealthy. If they’re lucky.”

“Another reason for the Governance to take over Aperture worlds,” Sarai said. “Too much opportunity for abuse.”

“Governance tries to muscle out the players out in the Deep and all of a sudden the prices for Veil stones are going to get really high, really quick . . . assuming we could even find another seller,” Dastin said. “The Tyrant never even tried to do that.”

“The Tyrant took three fleets into the Deep two seasons into his reign,” Sarai said. “No one knows what he found, and the crooks running Aperture worlds never tried to squeeze him on prices.”

“He must have gone to an Aperture world they didn’t control,” Jayce said. “No harm, no foul. How far into the Deep are there gates into the Veil?”

“The farthest one goes from the center of the galaxy.” Maru came down the ladder leading to the cockpit and jumped off halfway. “The farther into the Veil you can enter, the deeper into the Veil you travel, the more pure and larger stones can be found. It is a curious relationship.”

“The Tyrant came back from that expedition with only one ship,” Sarai said. “He never went into the Deep again.”

“Mysteries persist but we’re not here for that.” Maru adjusted lines that ran from the underside of his helmet and underneath his tunic. Mist sprayed out as he snapped one into place. “Remember, discretion is paramount in the camp. We have no friends here.”

The Thorn set down with a rumble.


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