Evan Currie - Heirs of Empire

Mira looked on the crew fondly, realizing that it was probably the best she’d ever served with. Perhaps not in individual skill, to be sure, but it was her crew—and a damned good one. Together they’d raided the empire with impunity, and now she was going to ask them to do it one more time.

She waited until she got a nod from Gaston, telling her that everyone was there, then Mira looked them over one more time before speaking.

“Not all of you joined with me because you hated Corian. In fact, I think few of you did,” she said. “Most of you don’t know him except by reputation. You joined with me because I promised you a paycheck, an adventure … or just because I asked.”

Mira paused. “Whatever your reason for being here, thank you.”

There was no sound from the deck, so she went on without thinking too hard about what she was saying.

“That part of our adventure is over now,” she said with finality. “Next, I’m going on a mission that has no payoff in cash or loot, and the risk is very high. This is personal for me, and I will not ask you to follow me. If you feel you’re done, just let Gas know and you’ll be paid out here and now. If you and I happen to be going in the same direction, however … then I’ll owe you my thanks again.”

Mira paused to let that sink in before finishing.

“You have an hour to choose,” she said. “The Andros sets sail in two.”

Brennan looked down at the package Mira had handed him, confused.

“Server blades?”

“And instructions,” she confirmed. “Follow them.”

He nodded reflexively before realizing he’d done so, then scowled at her for pushing the buttons his brother had obviously installed in him over the years.

“I’m not some errand boy,” he ground out, knowing that he was being childish about it but not caring.

“You are if the errand is important enough,” Mira countered. “Remember that. None of us are above any job that needs to be done. Start thinking you are, and I’ll end you myself before I let you near the throne.”

He laughed, almost hysterically. “As if I’d want that job.”

“If you did, or if she did,” Mira informed him, “I’d seriously consider putting a lase round through you both and leaving it to Corian. At least he has experience to go with his arrogance.”

Brennan scowled at her again, hating the fact that he couldn’t do anything else and they were both well aware of it. Instead, he looked down at the satchel again. “It’s that important?”

“I said it was.”

“Fine.” Brennan gave up. “I’ll be on my way within the hour.”

“Good. Kennick will be waiting for you at your Naga,” Mira said approvingly. “See your sister before you go.”

He nodded. He’d intended to.

Brennan turned to leave, but Mira’s hand snapped out like lightning and pulled him sharply back.

“Trust the whispers,” she told him seriously, green eyes staring into blue. “Remember that.”

Brennan nodded jerkily, pulling away when she let him go, but said nothing as he walked out.

Mira watched his back as he left, then straightened up. She didn’t turn around as she spoke. “Have they all decided?”

Gaston nodded, though she wasn’t looking at him, and stepped into the room.

“A few of the lower-deck crewmen, cargo workers, that sort left. None of the officers and none of the boarding crew left,” he told her.

Mira closed her eyes and smiled.

That was honestly all she could have wished for.

“Thank you,” she said softly, “and thank them for me.”

“They know,” Gaston answered, “but it wouldn’t hurt to remind them when this is over.”

Mira laughed. “If we live, they’ll drink on me for a week.”

Gas shook his head. “You’d better plan on dying, then, my lady. The emperor himself would cringe at the price this lot would command at the taverns.”

“That’s just perfect”—Mira smiled like a feral beast—“because I fully intend to take the cost out of Emperor Corian’s pocket.”

“Lydia,” Brennan said, tapping on the edge of the lock that led to his sister’s quarters on the Andros .

Lydia looked up, surprised but pleased. “Bren. I wish you were coming with me … I don’t know that I can do this.”

“You can do it,” he said. “You’ve always given a damn about people, more than me at least. I just care about flying.”

“That’s not true, and you know it,” she said gently.

Brennan shrugged. “Maybe. Look, Delsol’s given me a job.”

“You’re not coming with me?”

“I’ll catch up,” he promised, trying to smile as easily as he could to quell the concern in her voice. “It’s just a courier job. You know she wouldn’t give either of us anything directly dangerous, not if she could avoid it.”

“I am leading a fleet into battle,” Lydia told him dryly.

“From the most powerful cruiser in the loyalist fleet,” he reminded her. “You’ll be all right. I should be back before then anyway.”

“Promise?”

“I promise to try,” he said honestly. “Just have to deliver a message or two.”

“What message?” she asked, curious.

Brennan shrugged, pulling a card from the satchel and flipping it open to read.

“It doesn’t make any sense,” he scowled, tilting his head as if reading the words from another angle would reveal their meaning.

“Let me see.” Lydia turned his hand so she could read it, then shook her head. “It’s a cipher. Whatever it means, it’s not for us. Mira gave you this?”

“And said it was vital,” he added with a nod.

“Then it is,” Lydia said. “Go. Fly fast, but stay alive and come back, Bren.”

“Always, sis,” Brennan said with a cocky smile. He saluted sloppily and turned away, heading out the door.

Lydia watched him go, a shadow crossing over her face.

Is this what power means? she wondered. Watching people march into danger for me? In my name? Who in their right mind would want such a thing?

“Ready to fly, kid?”

Brennan nodded as Kennick hopped out of the gunner’s spot and let the bolstered pivot clear. Brennan hooked a foot in the second stirrup and threw himself into place with practiced ease. The second chair now felt natural to him, and he marveled privately that he once felt strange not flying from the front.

Kennick dropped into the gunner’s spot and hit the canopy close latch, bringing the armored shield down around their heads.

“Looks like the fleet is ready to move out,” Kennick said, looking around them.

Brennan nodded, though Kennick couldn’t possibly see him. Somehow, he knew that the other man would know he had anyway.

“A few hours yet,” Kennick went on. “The Andros leaves in less than one. The fleet will probably follow within six. It’s going to be one hell of a fight.”

Brennan finished his preflight checklist. “Disappointed to miss it?”

Kennick just chuckled. “We haven’t missed it yet, unless you really want me to believe that you’re not going to race as fast as this crate will haul to get back to your sister?”

Brennan didn’t say anything, as there wasn’t much point in lying. He’d finish his mission, and then he’d join hers.

The sail projectors blasted away from the Fire Naga, high up into the air where the aquamarine sails blossomed above them. The Naga twisted and dragged, leaving a deep furrow behind it until Brennan thumbed the winches and the stubby fighter was yanked hard up into the skies.

“Let’s break records,” he told his gunner.