Evan Currie - Heirs of Empire

“Almost ready,” he promised. “I just need to …”

The door behind him burst open, and he looked back with wide eyes as men started running out across the roof.

“I’ve got to clear the end of the strip or we’ll hook up and crash before we get clear!” he said. “As soon as it’s clear … launch the sails!”

“What? Bren, I can’t fly this thing!”

“Yes, you can, and you know it!” he snapped over his shoulder as he ran. “Don’t worry about me—just do it!”

She nodded shakily, not that he could see her as he bolted across the rooftop to the far end where the catch nets were deployed. The nets were intended to keep someone from overshooting the roof, as he’d come close to doing, and crashing down into the courtyard below.

Of course they did require that you approached your landing on the expected trajectory, which Brennan rarely did. He hit the switch to drop the nets just as the first of the men grabbed him. Brennan hit him with an elbow, then kicked out his knee just like in training. As the man went down, Brennan turned and waved wildly to Lydia.

“Go! Go now!”

Lydia had her hands on the secondary controls, and he could see her face as she stared wide-eyed back at him. He knew she’d been scared of flying ever since he’d pulled that idiot stunt when they were younger, but he was still taken back by the stark terror in her face right then.

The distraction cost Brennan as he was tackled to the ground from behind, still yelling at his sister to take off.

He struggled underneath the weight of the man who’d tackled him, but there was no getting loose, and Brennan’s stomach sank into a deep pit as he saw three more men run up to the flyer.

Damn it, Lyd …

With men holding the flyer down and locking the safeties back, there was no way for it to take off. Brennan flinched as he was hauled to his feet, struggling a little, but it was mostly for form since he was outmassed more than twice over and had his arms pinned behind his back.

“Hold still, brat,” the man holding him ordered. “You’re not going anywhere. The new emperor has requested your presence.”

Brennan twisted around. “New emperor? What new emperor? What happened to my father ?”

The man just laughed, shoving him forward.

“Move it, kid. Cry about your daddy later.”

The men pulled Lydia from the skimmer kicking and screaming, and roughly pushed her toward Brennan and the rest. The two young teens were shoved together as the men regrouped and checked the rest of the roof.

“Clear, sir.”

“Good,” said the man who seemed to be in charge. “Looks like we got them both. The general will be satisfied.”

“You said something about our father,” Brennan growled. “What happened to him?”

The men glanced at one another and smirked, leaving Brennan with a sick feeling in his stomach.

“Worry about yourself, kid,” the leader said, turning to another of his men. “OK, call for a larger escort. Tell them we have the kids and are coming down from the roof.”

“Yes, sir.”

Brennan kicked out at the man holding him, but didn’t accomplish much other than annoying him. The armsman shook him roughly, growling as he did.

“That’s enough out of you! Come on—get moving.”

The two teens were shoved across the rooftop toward the broken open door they’d come through. Neither of them had any ideas about what they should do next, and fighting didn’t seem like a reasonable option, so they went along without further protest. Brennan’s mind was still caught up trying to work out what they meant when they said that there was a new emperor.

That means father is …

He closed his eyes tightly for a moment, only opening them when he was again shoved forward.

Neither of them, nor even their older brother, had been particularly close to their father, but not even Brennan had ever wished the man dead. He was a distant figure in their lives, who spent more time as the emperor than as their father, but they all had memories of his presence.

Brennan had come to resent the man’s absence. He suspected that both his siblings had as well, though they masked their emotions better. The idea that he could be even more absent had never really occurred to Brennan, and now that it had, the prince felt a coldness inside that he’d never experienced before.

His mind was still whirling with those thoughts and feelings as he and his sister were pushed through the door and into the palace again.

A brush of motion raised the hairs on his skin, but Brennan had no time to react before a hot splatter of liquid hit the back of his neck and a blaster lased a round off right behind him. He flinched, twisting out of the suddenly slack grip of the man who’d been holding him, and saw the armsman fall with blood gushing from his throat.

The man holding Lydia had taken a lase round at point-blank range to the head, and without much blood to absorb the energy, it looked like his head had popped like an overripe melon. A glimmering hand dropped over Lydia’s eyes and turned her away from the sight as a second matching hand gripped a blaster, lasing off several more rounds.

It was over in a second. The four men who’d taken them were cooling on the ground as Brennan stared at the glowing Cadre armor standing there, holding his sister.

“Kayle?”

The armor faded, and his brother nodded. “Come on. We have to get you two out of here.”

“Kayle, they said that father …”

“The reports are that father was killed by Corian,” Kayle said. “I know. Come on.”

He got them moving, heading down the stairs, only to stop as the sound of heavy boots came up to them from below.

“They called for an escort when they caught us,” Brennan said.

“Damn,” Kayle swore, turning them around. “OK, back to the roof.”

“There’s no way off the roof!” Lydia protested as they ran back out onto the roof and the private landing platform.

“There’s the skimmer,” Kayle corrected, nodding toward the flyer as it came into sight. “Wasn’t that your plan?”

Brennan nodded. “Yeah, but, Kayle, the skimmer only takes two people.”

“I know,” Kayle said as he ran them over to the skimmer. “That’s why you’re going to get in it and fly your sister out of here.”

“What about you?” Lydia protested, fighting him as Kayle pushed her into the rear seat.

“Don’t worry about me,” Kayle said. “Bren, do it.”

Brennan grimaced but finally shoved the flyer’s seat into position, locking his sister in before he dropped into place and pulled the restraints down over himself.

“Take this,” Kayle said, handing him the compact weapon Brennan recognized as Cadre issue. “My Bene will protect you.”

“Kayle? This is your Armati?” Brennan was confused.

The Armati were deeply secretive weapons of the Cadre, and they were the one type he’d never been tested on. Brennan didn’t know much of anything about them, but he knew that a Cadreman didn’t just hand his over to anyone, not even family.

“I’ve enough weapons to do what I need to do,” Kayle smiled easily, handing his blaster back over the seat to Lydia. “Now do as I said and get your sister out of here. Find William, if you can, or one of your old teachers.”

He stepped back, pulled the shielding cover down over Brennan, and slapped the clear visor twice as he stepped back.

“Go on!” he ordered again, turning around and running back to the door.

Brennan gripped the controls in both hands, thumbs on the launcher studs, but his eyes were glued to where his brother was kneeling near the door and picking up one of the fallen armsmen’s carbines. He started firing down into the hall beyond almost instantly, and ionized traces could be seen flying back in return.