Chapter 26

Sunlight pierced the billows of black smoke drifting through the air. Far below, the crackles and bangs of battle had died out. Whether the battle had ended, or the sounds of fighting were simply too distant to be heard was an unknown. “Eights, call one of the Pulsars to come pick us up. We are leaving.” Paul adjusted Abel’s body to get a better grip and walked out onto the roof. Moments later, a yellow Pulsar shuttle swooped in. Then, a blue beam ripped right through its hull, igniting the whole shuttle into flaming bits of debris. Paul dropped his rifle and Abel to shield himself from the metal shower.

Another ship, an Amani light transport, zoomed overhead with a deafening roar. It circled around and landed gently on the roof beside the smoldering wreckage. Paul unclipped his full concealment helmet from his belt and put it on. The landing ramp dropped, and a man wearing square lensed glasses walked down, the hilt of a cadami sword peaked beneath the brown duster. He wore brown and white robes, the loose-fitting style common among Amani Progenitors. Roy came battle ready.

Paul cursed under his breath.

“You’ve caused quite a stir today,” Roy shouted over the flames.

Paul could not believe his misfortune. “I’ve got what I came for on this world. Allow me to pass,” he said, his voice modulated, concealed beneath his helmet.

Roy’s eyebrows curved. “Well, I obviously can’t do that.”

“What are you even doing here? You were summoned to the other side of the system!”

“That was a clever bit of deception,” Roy admitted. “After Owlen died, about a dozen of his terrified former associates came forward and warned me of an attack today. Guess I made it just in time.” He looked down, noticing the sword by Paul’s side. “You’re a Progenitor, and...I’m guessing that’s Abel over there, he said, frowning, shaking his head in disappointment. “He didn’t need to die.”

“Reyleonard...” Paul snuck a quick glance at the boy, afraid he might get up again. “...there’s no time to explain, Roy.”

“You know my name, you’ve done your studying-” Roy said, looking more serious than Paul had ever seen him, but somehow, he still donned a smile. He took a few more steps, “-so you must know I’m a man of peace. I’m sure we can work something out.

Roy was proving to be nearly impossible to read, such a mastery of concealment. Paul had underestimated him, but that wasn’t about to stop him. “Think of your wife Ann, and your children too.”

Roy’s calm smile faltered, his eyes narrowed. “You leave my family out of this,” he warned darkly.

“Leave this planet, go to Califax just as you’ve dreamed of.”

Roy drew his sword, its brilliant blue light shined. “I don’t know who you are or what you think you know, but I’m stopping you right here, Knight of the Tuyet Voi.”

There was only one option left, one last effort to prevent a fight. Paul removed his helmet, dropping it at his feet. Roy looked horrified.

“Paul?”

“Stand aside, Roy,” Paul said again. “The galaxy is in danger; this is bigger than either of us.”

Roy shook his head. “I trusted you, welcomed you into my home! My wife cooked for you, my children adored you!”

“I’m sorry,” Paul said, feeling the depths of regret. Though Roy would surely see it as concealment. “But, now’s not the time!”

“Which Knight are you? You’re honor-bound to at least tell me that much,” he growled.

Paul hesitated for a long moment, but Roy was right. “Nefarous,” he said finally.

A bolt of fear shot through Roy, which was quickly consumed and obscured. “Nefarous...you’ve got to be kidding me, this must be another nightmare. You want me to step aside? You know I could never do that.”

“You will not stand in my way, Roy.” Paul drew his sword, violet light emerged. The flat rooftop landing pad offered no tactical advantages, no ways to retreat, and there were certainly no options to get past Roy without a fight.

“Your time is over!” Roy yelled as he charged forth swiftly.

Their swords clashed and hissed. Roy’s strikes were so quick they were nearly imperceptible. Paul could keep up, but he was on the defensive, backpedaling, biding his time until there was an opening. Not only was Roy fast, but he was challenging to read, his motivations well concealed. However, there was fury in the man’s eyes.

Paul thrust his sword forward to create some distance. “I can’t let you stop me, you don’t understand what’s at stake,” Paul said between breaths.

“You’ve killed thousands. What else is there to understand?” Roy said with disgust.

It sounded foolish to say, Paul doubted it would convince Roy, but the truth was worth a shot. “The Cathedral, you want to know what’s inside? It’s a beacon, a communication hub for a creature called Omega. I believe he’s an astrobeing of immense power. He’s a greater threat than the Amani or the Tuyet Voi.”

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“I know you believe that, Paul,” Roy said as if wondering what his point was.

“Allow me to pass Roy; you cannot win. Don’t you want to see Lucy and the others grow up?”

Fury erupted like fire within Roy. He poised his weapon charging in for another attack, only now he was easier to read, but just as blindingly quick. Paul adopted a defensive posture, deflecting each blow, barely keeping up. Adrenaline rushed through his veins, sweat dropped over his eyes, muscles began to strain.

Suddenly Roy changed tactics, transitioning flawlessly from quick strikes to heavy guard-breaking swings. The initial volley of attacks had served only to prod Paul’s defenses; now Roy was gaining the advantage.

Paul changed stances, parried an overhead swing, and followed up with intricate rolling slashes and feints to throw Roy off. It worked. Now Roy back-peddled, falling into a defensive posture. It was only a matter of time now. Paul continued to transition from one fighting style to another to keep his opponent off-balance. Roy was beginning to break.

In a desperate attempt, Roy dropped low to cut Paul’s feet, but Paul was quick and jumped up to avoid the attack. And there it was, an opening in Roy’s defense, a fatal flaw. Paul simply needed to bring his sword down to cleave through his opponent as he had done to countless others. A split second later the edge of the violet blade hovered a sliver over Roy, who winced away knowing he surely must be dead. His eyes opened; he was alive and could hardly believe it by the looks of it.

Roy couldn’t help but chuckle, violet and blue light reflected in his glasses. “Mercy from the mighty Lord Nefarous?”

Paul withdrew his blade. “Go to your family Roy, run as far away from this conflict as possible.”

Still out of breath and chuckling, Roy shook his head. “That’s the thing Paul, I have a family, and I will do anything to protect them,” he said as he picked up his sword.

Paul had just a fraction of a second to react, lunging away, but the blue blade sliced up from his belly to his collarbone, melting clean through the limited armor plating of the flight suit. It was a glancing blow, but the pain was searing like a molten metal pole and been laid across his chest. He fell to the ground, grunting and gnashing his teeth. The pain drowned out all thought; all he knew was that Roy stood over him, his sword drawn, ready for the killing blow.

Roy shook his head. “You’ve caused untold destruction to this galaxy Nefarous, Paul. You fought admirably. Your mercy on me will not be in vain.” He raised his sword.

The pain running up Paul’s chest faded, he felt oddly at peace. He shut his eyes. So, this is what it’s like to be defeated, to die. In his final moments, he thought only of Martha and Ramona. Maybe he could have had a family of his own, just like Roy’s. Perhaps he didn’t deserve such things, for all the death he was responsible for in the name of a war he no longer believed in. They would be avenged.

Wind blew, the fires of the crashed shuttle had died down, but no swish of a blade. Nothing happened. Paul opened his eyes to see Roy still standing over him with his sword in the air, frozen.

“Get up!” A familiar voice shouted from behind. But, it couldn't be. The agonizing pain came flooding back in, Paul sat up with great effort to look around. Ramona was at the elevator door, her one good hand held out. She looked like she was barely alive.

“Ramona!” Paul shouted, which caused his cut to burn even more.

“Take his sword!” She shouted, though her voice was wavering.

Paul heaved himself up and disarmed Roy, sheathing the blade and clipping it to his belt next to his own. Roy stumbled back as Ramona’s hold over him was released. Utter shock crossed his face.

“Roy…” Paul began, but an instinctive urge grabbed his muscles and thrust him to the side, narrowly avoiding a bolt of plasma. On the ground again, the cut burning like white fire, Paul looked up to see a sizzling hole burned straight through Roy’s chest. He collapsed to the ground not a moment later, dead.

“NO!” Paul shouted, turning around to see that the shooter was Abel Reyleonard, prone on the floor, struggling to hold up the rifle. His right eye still glowed orange, they fizzeled out, and the boy drooped to the ground, lifeless. Not far behind, Ramona was also on the floor.

Sirens began to wail across the city, the universal signal for an orbital bombardment. Fighting through the pain, Paul hiked himself up, hurrying to Ramona as quickly as possible. He cradled her small limp body; she was still alive. Stepping over Abel’s body, Paul made a dash for Roy’s ship at the other end of the roof; all that mattered was getting her off Kanchi alive. He took one last glance at Roy; his blue eyes stared blankly, black smoke and sunlight reflected off his cracked square lensed glasses. I’m sorry, my friend.

Eights was already on board; it squealed and sputtered when it saw Ramona. “She’ll be okay, but we need to leave immediately. Activate the drive core, have the ship ready to fly.” Paul strapped Ramona to a fold-out cot in the back of the cockpit. He took another look at her; he had never seen her eyes shut for so long, and a deep tremor shook Paul’s heart. He had never known such fear in his life.

The ship hummed to life; Paul hurried to the controls flipping a series of switches and yanked the yolk back. They soared high above the Cathedral, the blue sky slowly gave way to the star-speckled darkness of space.

“We can’t use established warp coordinates. Amani sentries will be everywhere,” Paul said quickly, trying to devise an alternate solution. They couldn't stay over Kanchi long; the Amani would quickly catch wind that they were in a stolen ship.

Eights beeped rapidly.

“Jump coordinates downloaded from the Cathedral? Do you have any idea what’s on the other side?” Paul asked urgently.

Eights replied negatively.

There was no other option. “Activate the warp drive, make the jump.”

Eights went to work at once.

Out of the port window were flashes of red and white, the distinct signs of a battle. Paul wondered who the Amani could possibly be fighting. The ship Rex mentioned? A blinding light erupted from one of the ships —a reactor meltdown.

Instinctively, Paul strapped himself in and braced. The light grew larger and larger, and a moment later a terrible shock wave hit the ship, cracking the bridge windows and sending the vessel into a rapid spin. Paul held onto his restraints for dear life, but they failed, coming unbuckled. He was flung from the chair free falling to the back of the bridge.

Blurry-eyed, Paul didn’t know which was way up. High above him were the ship’s controls, but that wasn’t right. The ship’s gravity had been inverted. A gaping hole was gashed along the side of the hull, emergency shields prevented further decompression, but Ramona was gone. “Stop the launch sequence!” Paul shouted desperately. “Eights!” he pleaded, but there was no reply. “Eights!” He repeated, still nothing.

Getting back to the controls would be like climbing up a tower. Paul reached up trying to get a foothold, his muscles ached, and his cut seared as if it had been freshly opened. “STOP THE SEQUENCE! But it was too late. The ship lurched, its engines wound up. “NO, RAMONA!”

The ship, with Paul and Eights in it, warped off into unknown space.