Acquiring this technology would be a major boon to her house especially in the face of the rising discord on the home front and the rate of defection to the rebel lines. Still, she’d rather be out among the people, doing what she could to leave this world a better place than she found it.
“So, if you would be so kind as to follow me,” the agent said, gesturing for them to stand, “I will escort you to our transport, which will take us to our facility.”
“Consider it from this perspective, Your Highness,” said Captain Laney to Vaush. “You may never sit upon the throne of Ti-Laros, but close this deal and your father will view you as infinitely more valuable to him than your insufferable sister.”
Vaush gave her a half smile. “Careful, Laney, she is still an Honored Lady of Ti-Laros and well ahead of me in the line of accession. Nothing will change that.”
“More’s the pity. Of all your siblings, you’d make the finest ruler.” Laney’s eyes scanned the room, noting all the exits and any suspicious behavior. She motioned to the other guard to walk ahead to scout the area.
“They were born and bred for that purpose, and I welcome them to it,” Vaush said.
“So that you’re free to trudge off to the next god-forsaken hellhole to save the village. Yes, you’re right,” Laney said wryly. “You’d make a dreadful ruler. Who needs a selfless, compassionate monarch lording it over them? You are the best of House Bastionli. Truly.”
“You know I harbor no aspirations for the throne. In fact,” she looked down at her common business attire, a three quarter linen cape over matching blue slacks, waistcoat, and fitted sleeveless blouse. A smart pair of boots completed the ensemble. “I feel quite at home dressed this way.”
As they followed the agent down the corridor, Vaush caught sight of a tall Tellurian investor. There was something about his gait that set him apart from the others—the long, steady strides, squared shoulders and head lifted as if nothing below his line of sight was worthy of his consideration. As he moved through the group, the others gave way without him having to utter a word.
Vaush discreetly pointed him out to Laney.
“A member of one of the Great Houses, I suspect,” Laney observed.
“House Nostrom?” Vaush said. “Then again, the haughty air suggests Warbrenger.”
“Good choice of disguise,” Laney commented. “Unless he removes the helmet or speaks at length, we may never know. No matter, it needn’t affect your purpose.”
“True.” Vaush craned her neck to have a better look. “But how bright can he be? Marching around here virtually broadcasting his standing, he’s compromised his ability to negotiate a good deal.”
Outdoors, the roar of the transport engines made it impossible to converse any further. They followed the others across the lawn and into the mid-sized vessel. Within the cabin, the smell of new leather and carpeting suggested that the transport had been recently renovated. A kindly attendant directed them to their seats and Laney indicated that Vaush should sit between her and the other guard.
They were halfway to their destination when an attendant approached again, asking if she could refresh their beverages.
“I’m fine, thank you,” Vaush replied.
The cabin attendant smiled and moved on to the next row.
Vaush adjusted her seat to a more relaxing angle and stretched out her legs, reflecting on what her father referred to as the finesse of negotiations. Never let your—
Suddenly, the transport dropped sharply, jostling the passengers and spilling drinks. The startled cries finally died down though the anxious look in their eyes begged an explanation. The attendants scurried about calming the passengers and sopping up the spills.
“Look at them,” Laney said, eyeing the attendants. “They’re just as scared as the rest of us.”
“What was that?” Vaush turned in her chair. “Even the most basic nav-systems should’ve been able to handle turbulence.”
“That wasn’t any turbulence,” Laney replied as she leaned out into the wide aisle. “I don’t like this one bit.”
The Mobias agent pushed past one of the attendants and hurried down the corridor into the cockpit.
“That’s definitely not a good sign,” Laney said. She spoke into the communicator at her wrist, notifying House Bastionli of the situation.
“A bit much don’t you think?” Vaush said, trying not to sound nervous.
“Probably,” Laney said unconvincingly. “But your father would have my hide if I failed to follow protocol.”
The agent quickly emerged from the cockpit with a broad smile, but his shifting eyes betrayed him.
“Esteemed guests, I do apologize for the bit of roughness, but please everyone sit back and relax. We will be landing shortly.”
Vaush nudged Laney. “See, you heard him. We’ll be landing soon.” Vaush sat back with a light smile on her lips. “You’ve gone and alarmed my father over nothing.”
But Laney wasn’t convinced. “Is your restraint secure?” she asked, jiggling Vaush’s seat belt. “Use the shoulder harness as well.”
“Really, Laney.” Vaush looked around. “I’ll feel like a fool in the shoulder restraints when no one else is wearing them.”
Laney gave her a hard look and lowered her voice. “At least you will be a living fool. Shoulder restraints on now.” She pressed the button on the armrest and the shoulder harness extended down over Vaush, securing her to the seat. Laney would not lose a member of the royal house on her watch.
No sooner had the restraint clicked into place when the sound of a hundred thunderclaps erupted all around, plunging the cabin into darkness. Terrified screams filled the air as the vessel dove downward through the atmosphere. A cacophony of crunching metal rocketed through the cabin as part of the cockpit tore away from the transport.
Vaush screamed as the wind roared through the cabin and sucked the attendants through the gaping hole.
Laney yelled into her communicator and kept a death grip on Vaush. One by one, seats were ripped from the floor and flung from the cabin with the passengers still strapped in them. The row of seats in front of them held, but the force was too much and the occupants were quickly torn away to follow the others.
Laney and the other guard tried to activate their shoulder harnesses to no avail. Realizing that the system was malfunctioning, Vaush tried to help them pull their restraints down manually. The harness wouldn’t budge.
The guard on Vaush’s left was snatched from her seat and hurled through the whole. “Gena!” Vaush screamed as her hair whipped around her face. She turned to Laney who had her harness halfway down even as she was jostled in her seat. The powerful suction pulled at Vaush, but the shoulder harness held fast. She reached over to press Laney’s harness all the way down, but before she ever heard a reassuring click, Laney was wrenched from her seat and sucked through the hole.
“Laney! Laney!” Vaush cried, as the pressure pulled at her. “Gods, no!” A foot struck Vaush in the head as two more passengers from behind went hurling out of the transport. The serving cart shot out and struck Laney’s empty seat sending both zipping through the hole.
Vaush screamed as blinding pain rendered her world into darkness.
CHAPTER 3
In the midst of the Privy Council meeting, Duke Crausin Van Laven’s personal communicator unfurled at his ear. He recognized his son’s voice immediately in the garbled, truncated distress call—
“… transport … down … coordinates … ”
Ashen faced, Crausin leapt from his chair and left the council members without so much as a word.
The duke raced down the corridor toward his private chambers and burst through the doors. “Get me the Patheisan government on the line immediately!” he barked at his chief administrator.
“Yes, Sire,” said the gray-haired rotund man as he hurried to comply.
Crausin tried incessantly to raise Comron on his personal com-link but there was no signal. His line was dead. With growi
ng agitation, he tried to raise the Mobias Technologies executives.
“Sire,” the administrator’s voice came over the intercom. “I have the Patheisan chief liaison on the line. Is there someone specific with whom you wish to speak?”
“I want the prefect of the eastern district!” the duke snapped.
“Yes, Sire.”
Crausin paced the floor with hands trembling as he waited to hear from the Mobias EIC. What in the hell had happened? His heart pounded and his palms grew sweaty. The call coincided with the time Comron would have been aboard the transport to visit the Mobias production site. But the cryptic message left much unsaid. What happened to the transport? Why couldn’t he raise Comron? He shoved his hands deep into his pockets to keep them from shaking.
“Duke Van Laven,” said the Mobias assistant.
“Yes!”
“I’m putting through our EIC.”
Just then the holographic image of the EIC appeared.
The EIC forced a smile. “Duke Van Laven, this is an honor—”
“What happened to the transport carrying the investors to the site?” Crausin interrupted.
Before the EIC could ask how Crausin knew about the matter, he added, “My son was aboard that transport; he was one of the investors!”
The EIC’s face drained of color. “W-we are trying to locate it now.”
“Trying to locate it? How is it that you lost it?”
Wringing his hands, the EIC replied. “To avoid the local authorities, we flew below the radar, which meant even we could not detect them. They are overdue for landing, so we are back-tracking from the facility to the place of origin.”
Glaring at him, Crausin said, “Comron called from the transport to say it was going down.”
The EIC lowered his head as he leaned upon his desk. “We received a message from the pilot saying the navigation systems had been tampered with. That was the last thing we heard from them.”
Crausin raked his fingers through his hair, grabbing fistfuls, forcing himself to think clearly. “Is the search party underway?”
“Oh, we’re trying to, uh ….”
“Listen, you blithering idiot. If I don’t find my son alive, I will rain down havoc upon your mortal ass!”
The EIC snapped to attention. “We’ll have the search party formed directly.”
“You make damned sure of it. Spare no expense. I will cover the cost for anything you need. Call in the local authorities and put every man that you have on it. I want a status report every half hour!”
“Yes, my lord Duke.”
“I am on my way as well. I will contact you the moment I arrive.”
The EIC’s eyes widened and he clenched the edge of his desk. “Very good, Your Grace.”
Crausin switched off the link and the hologram vanished.
“Sire, would you have me contact anyone else?” the chief administrator inquired.
“Get General Stland on the line,” Crausin replied, pinning his hands beneath his arms.
“Yes, Sire.” He started to leave, then said, “Several of your privy council are here inquiring into the matter.”
Crausin shook his head sharply, cursing himself for having sent Comron on that damnable trip in the first place.
“You said nothing of it?” the duke asked his administrator.
“Of course not, Sire!”
“Inform them that I’ve been called away on personal business, and that I will return in time for the banking conference. Say nothing of the prince. Now go.” Crausin knew he should have disclosed more but could not bear the thought of them spreading rumors of the crown prince’s demise making it all the more a reality. The very thought of it set off another fit of trembling. He gritted his teeth and fought to drive the grisly images from his mind.
CHAPTER 4
Vaush regained consciousness with a dull ache in her head, and every muscle in her body protested against movement. Slowly, sounds of her surroundings filtered through her awareness—the buzzing of insects and the whooping calls of a bird. She breathed in outdoor scents of lush greenery and heavy moisture.
Rainforest? Seneyla Island?
Her eyes fluttered open and adjusted to the light. Above her, a green canopy of trees spread out filtering the sun and providing some coolness in the tropical heat.
What am I doing here?
Despite the aches, she attempted to sit up, but something restrained her. She realized then that she was still strapped to her seat. Memories of the exploding transport came rushing back, overwhelming her.
“My God!” she gasped as she worked the buckles to release the harness. Her eyes darted about, searching for other survivors. “Laney? Gena?”
She tapped at the personal communicator on her wrist. It was dead.
“Damn it!”
The piercing screech of a bird jolted her to her feet. She glimpsed it flying out from the treetops. “Is anybody there?” She turned in a circle, taking in her surroundings: the tall trees and hanging vines, ferns stretching high, and all manner of fragrant vegetation.
If she survived, surely there had to be others. She set off in search of them.
She ran along, leaping through the foliage and swatting vines as she made her way through the trees. At such a pace, the forest soon felt like a sauna. Great beads of sweat rolled down and stung her eyes. As she wiped at them, she stumbled over something lying across her path. It was too soft to be a rock or a fallen branch. She turned.
“No!” She backed away, recognizing the Mobias sales agent. He stared out, eyes dull and unmoving. From the odd angle of his neck, she knew it was broken.
A stiff breeze wafted through the trees, cooling her skin. In the distance, something white was billowing in the wind. Curious, Vaush made her way over to investigate and discovered some type of large parachute attached to what was left of the ravaged transport. Her heart pounded wildly and her hands trembled. What sort of carnage would she find inside?
When she finally looked in, it seemed as if she were staring into the gaping mouth of a great metallic shark. Razor sharp, jagged metal surrounded the opening; debris and insulation hung from the metal shards like rotting flesh. In the belly of the cabin, lay the shredded remains of the transport seats and bin contents. But there was no sign of any of the other investors—dead or alive.
In the midst of her turmoil, Vaush heard a moan from the aft section of the cabin.
“Laney!” Maybe she survived the fall and crawled here for shelter. With her heart soaring, Vaush ran toward the back of the cabin, shoving aside the fallen chairs and debris until she found the injured passenger.
“You!” She sighed heavily and dropped down next to the tall Tellurian investor lying on his side. Carefully, she turned him over onto his back. At once, she saw the large metal shard protruding from his abdomen just beneath his ribs. Blood soaked through his shirt and doublet, pooling on the floor beneath him. He moaned again before slipping into unconsciousness. She had only seconds to act before life ebbed away completely.
Keeping her wits about her, Vaush quickly searched the overhead compartments for an emergency medical box. She shoved aside blankets and pillows until she found what she was looking for. She dropped down next to him with the medical supplies.
“The first thing we need to do is remove your helmet so you can breathe a little better.” Lifting his head slightly, she unfastened the helmet and slipped it off. His dark, sweat-soaked hair clung to his head, slightly obscuring his deathly pale face. She wiped the hair away gently. Despite its pallor, it was a decidedly handsome face with fine features. But it was also frighteningly familiar.
Vaush froze as recognition dawned. She scrambled away from him, her face twisting in contempt. “Comron Van Laven.”
She cursed the irony of the situation. House Van Laven had been the bane of her family’s existence for centuries. Nothing but bitter animosity existed between their worlds, and though Vaush was not prone to blind hatred, she was not immune to the dar
k history between their families.
But there was more to consider than their age-old feud. Comron Van Laven had proven himself to be a barbaric man in his own right. One should not be fooled by his angelic countenance or outward guise of gentility. He was a deadly foe. She recalled the most recent media images of him gleefully decapitating a liberation fighter and tossing the head into the crowd as if it were a sports ball.
What would such a vulgar and cruel man do to the daughter of his nemesis? They were all alone with no one but the heavens to witness any violence he did to her.
“You should’ve had the good sense to die in the crash.” She steadied herself against the bulkhead and climbed to her feet.
I must signal for a rescue, she told her herself. After locating a homing beacon in the debris, Vaush silently thanked Laney for alerting the duke of their situation. Surely, her father would have a search party underway shortly. She glanced back at Comron. She was equally certain that the Duke of Nethic would be just as eager to find his precious heir.
Having no desire to run into a foul band of Nethicaens, she decided to put some distance between her and the wreckage. She gathered some food rations, a water canister, the medical kit, and a blanket into a knapsack and then headed out of the cabin.
“Farewell Prince of Nethic,” she said with a flippancy she did not feel. Absently, she felt for the chain around her neck where she temporarily kept the ring with her family crest hidden. At that moment, she had a flash of inspiration. All members of the royal houses wore crest rings. What better trophy and proof of Comron’s death? For, short of death, the prince would never part with it. The Duke of Ti-Laros would probably have the crest ring gift-wrapped and sent to Crausin Van Laven with his sincere condolences.
Vaush returned to Comron’s side and took his gloved hand into hers. “Sorry, love, but I don’t think you’ll be needing this where you’re going.”