Evan Currie - Heirs of Empire

“What that monster did—”

“Was enough to get him assigned to one of the worst posts in the empire,” Mira finished for him. “I understand he froze to death less than a year later. Do you have any idea how long it takes a Cadreman to freeze to death?”

Brennan stilled, the Naga shuddering a little as he lost his focus.

“Oh, you didn’t know that bit, did you?” she asked, darkly amused. “Thought he got off, did you?”

Brennan’s silence confirmed her guess.

“Your father and your brother did you no favors, babying you the way they did,” Mira said. “As emperor, your father had a responsibility to protect the reputation of the Cadre. That’s why that scene was covered up. That doesn’t mean he let the guilty escape their justice.”

They flew on in silence for a time before she spoke again.

“You’re not wrong, you know. Corruption is caustic, and it seeps into every crack imaginable. If you don’t clean it out, eventually there’s just nothing left to save,” she said, “and the spirit of the Cadre corps can corrupt just as easily as it can empower. That’s why the empress has one of the hardest positions in the Cadre. She has to act to preserve that spirit, yet also keep it in check.”

Brennan didn’t miss how she’d said “empress” instead of “emperor.”

He didn’t know what to think now, so he remained silent. He needed more information, information he didn’t have access to.

For her part, Mira was happy to sit in silence as they returned to the Andros .

She only hoped that she’d given him enough to think about, because she knew and understood where his distrust of authority came from, and he was both right and wrong. He would need to balance his sense of justice with the needs of the empire if Everett had his way, something that was incredibly hard to do without compromising one or the other.

Hard. Not impossible.

She just hoped that he understood the difference. Too many people didn’t. They saw the hard decisions in front of them and pretended they were impossible, inevitably compromising their moral foundation on the altar of what was easy over what was just .

Do that enough times and justice was just an old joke that had no punch line.

Brennan and Lydia were more concerned with justice than the empire, and she couldn’t disapprove of their priorities. Violating your moral foundation might often seem like a solution, but it was illusory. The benefits it gave, such as they were, were inevitably short-term. What you gave up in exchange was the solid bedrock upon which everything was built.

But Mira suspected that the twins would be able to navigate that treacherous passage. They seemed to be more aware of the risks than most. She only wished that her own problems with her former organization were so simply summed up, even if the corrections would hardly be so simple.

She closed her eyes and again saw the blackened barrels of the armsmen’s carbines pointed at her from all sides.

William watched the mottled fighter as it vanished into the distance, swallowed up by the mist, and for the first time since the night of the coup he felt a sliver of hope.

Without the Scourwind name, even a victory against Corian would be as bad as a defeat.

The political infighting that would result as the Senate and all the various interests started jockeying to take the throne would cause more damage than Corian could do in his worst nightmares. As much as he hated to imagine it, William had come close to throwing in his support and allies behind Corian just to try to keep the empire from tearing itself apart.

Now, however, they had a chance.

It wasn’t the greatest of chances, but at least there was now a viable victory condition that could be achieved.

He turned and walked along the smooth metal of the God Wall, back to where he’d hidden his private skimmer. It wasn’t as imposing as the Fire Naga, he had to admit, but it was Cadre issue and a fair bit more effective in nearly every margin.

“Well?”

The speaker was a young woman, emerging from under the sealed and masking canopy of the Cadre skimmer.

“Brennan was with her,” he said as his gunner rose to her feet as the canopy opened up.

“So we have a chance.”

William nodded to the young knight who’d been helping him since this whole mess began. “Yes, Meridith, we have a chance.”

“Good. I didn’t like the alternative.”

“Nor did I.”

The Andros Pak was waiting for Mira and Brennan at the expected location, cruising in the lowest—and slowest—wind layer. The two approached from above and behind, signaling with their lights.

“Pace her,” Mira said. “We’ll put down and load the Naga manually.”

Brennan was a little disappointed but not surprised. Since his first chance to launch from a ship in motion, he’d found a longing to master the art of operating entirely from a ship. However, landing a skimmer on another skimmer was a tricky proposition. In order to not foul your sails, the smaller ship had to come in on a ballistic run.

One mistake could easily take out both ships, so he hadn’t expected Mira to allow it.

He still itched to try it, though.

The Andros and the Naga slipped down to an isolated stretch of dirt that was empty for a dozen miles in any given direction. Once landed, Brennan let the crew load his Naga and headed straight to his sister to fill her in. Mira let him go. She had her own thoughts to deal with for the moment.

“How was the meet?”

Mira didn’t look back as Gaston approached. She’d heard the engineer before he even stepped on the deck. He was not a stealthy man.

“As expected, Everett is offering a reasonable deal on our cargo.”

“I have no doubt,” Gaston said, amused, “but that’s not what I was asking.”

She sighed, knowing what he was talking about, of course.

“I don’t know, Gas,” she admitted. “They’re going to want us to join the fight.”

Gaston was silent. Mira had changed from the warrior who’d broken him out of the Imperial Redoubt’s detention area. She’d been operating on automatic instincts back then, too focused on survival to think about what had happened to her. Since then, the betrayal she’d suffered had eaten at her. Gaston didn’t know how much of it she was even aware of, but he’d seen her becoming more hostile to authority, and less trusting. Not bad traits, given the situation, perhaps … but potentially troubling. He’d watched her shift after they made it back to the empire, not certain if it was for better or for worse.

“Is that so bad?” he finally asked.

“Once burned, Gas, twice shy … twice burned … ,” Mira said softly. “How much of a fool would I have to be to stick my hand out a third time?”

The big engineer sighed, but he understood. The loyalists trying to claim the bounty on them had brought up barely scabbed-over nightmares again, laying them bare to the air, screaming as they burned.

“Those kids are going to need help,” he said.

“They’ve got help,” Mira countered. “Everett is a Cadre legend. He trained the emperor, their brother, and probably half the remaining corps.”

“I imagine that’s true,” Gaston conceded, “but that’s not what I meant. The Caleb Bar is going to be a problem, Mira. You know what that ship can do.”

Mira grimaced but nodded.

The Caleb Bar was Corian’s ultimate trump card.

It was a floating fortress, capable of breaking armor that should be able to withstand any siege. Armed to the teeth, able to go places no other ship could, it had to be dealt with, or any attempt to retake the palace would be doomed before it began.