Devarian Uprising Read online

  The Guardians, so far, had been content to watch, entertained by the animosity between the two officers. But the second Valda gave the order, they would crush her. Soleyla stared about, desperate, then reeled back as, with a high, almost inaudible shriek, a second bolt of lightning slashed down, stabbing at the thin white spire of the comm tower. It exploded, sending sparks flying, and Soleyla heard the whine of overstressed dynamos, spiraling up to an impossible pitch. For a heartbeat, the whole world went black. The silver sheen of the portals flickered, blazed to white, and went out.

  With a fierce, exultant shout, Soleyla leaped, landing a punishing kick in Trika’s gut. The lieutenant staggered backward, collapsed, and Soleyla’s sword flew from her nerveless hand. Seizing it up, Soleyla spun, driving her sword down at Trika’s prone form -- then froze as an ominous groan filled the air.

  Looking up, she saw the shattered, blackened comm tower listing, its supports screeching as, one by one, they snapped. Guardians dove for cover as it fell, smashing one of the barracks. Thunder crashed overhead, and with a hiss like that of a giant snake, the rain descended, furious and unrelenting.

  Through its heavy veil, Soleyla made out Valda’s short, stocky form, frozen at the wreckage before her. Then, beyond Valda, she saw Kantou, halfway across the compound, racing for the utility portal. But the portal was already out!

  No. Soleyla’s stomach lurched as, with a grinding crunch, the generators churned back to life. The portals, both the massive utility portal and the smaller personnel one, near the command center, came back online, their silver sheen reflecting off the pelting rain. Soleyla’s heart sank as she heard, over the clamor and the roar of flames from the barracks, a Guardian high on the wall, shouting into her headset.

  Jerril had attacked.

  And the portal wasn’t down.

  Soleyla whirled. The Antoreans were pouring in a mass through the gates, heaving them wide, slashing into the dazed, disorganized Guardians. Valda stared, glaring murderously across the compound, then wheeled and ran for the command center. Soleyla pelted after her. If the commander got more troops through that portal…

  Suddenly she was flung, headlong, into the mud. Her sword flew from nerveless fingers as a booted foot smashed down between her shoulder blades, sending a flare of agony down her spine.

  “I asked this before, I’ll ask it again,” Trika panted, bending low over her. “Going somewhere, Captain?”

  * * *

  The slap of cold rain slowly roused Rolen. Retching, he rolled to his knees, a watery weakness trembling along his limbs. Someone was behind him, touching him… Rolen flinched, felt his overstrained muscles give way, and collapsed, flailing helplessly in the soupy mud.

  “Rolen!” A voice, in his ear, shouting above the roar of the rain. A woman’s voice.

  “Soleyla?” The word was a croak. He opened his eyes a slit, made out a pair of clear hazel eyes, soft with concern.

  “I’m Liatra. Remember?”

  He could remember nothing. The past was a blurred, writhing darkness, the present a roaring, screaming chaos that lacerated his nerves. Something exploded, sending sputtering sparks streaking through the darkness, and Rolen cowered in the mud, hiding his eyes.

  * * *

  The portal loomed before Kantou, the air within its frame seeming to quiver with light. It pulsed, building in intensity, and Kantou knew with that instinctive comprehension that it was in use.

  Something was coming through.

  Like a giant picture frame, the portal stretched across the muddy ground, fifteen meters across and five high, a white plasteel bracket without break or join, and no controls that he could see. No, he realized, appalled, of course not. They’re in the command center. Not here. Not…

  His mind raced. The controls might not be accessible, but it still needed a power source, either its own power-pack, or…

  The generator. The portal had gone out when the generator died.

  The swirling, flickering illumination inside the portal increased, building to a flat white glare. The generators were on the far side, behind the command center. So, too, would be the cables. Sprinting, he dashed past the front of the portal, his outline stark against its glowing light. Well, there was no help for it -- if he was seen, he was seen.

  Something seemed to waver inside that glow, a suggestion of shadow, of movement. Lunging, he dove the final four meters, cleared the frame, scrabbled blindly in the thick mud, searching…

  There!

  The cable was thicker than his thigh, coated in heavy rubber. It ran to a plate, bolted securely to the frame, four feet off the ground. Kantou stared at it in dismay. It was hopeless. He had nothing, not a wrench, not even a knife. Electricity hummed through the cable at his feet and he was powerless to stop it.

  A shout rose behind him and Kantou whirled, crouching. He had, indeed, been seen. Two grim-faced Guardians were pounding toward him. Behind them he could see Valda, screaming an order. He didn’t need to hear her words to know they meant his death -- the drawn swords gleaming in the Guardians’ fists told him clearly enough.

  * * *

  The clash of steel on steel surrounded Soleyla, and she knew the Antorean men were attacking the disorganized Guardians. But their advantage was rapidly fading as, by twos and threes, the League soldiers responded to Valda’s stentorian shouts and broke away from the onslaught to fall back and regroup.

  She thrashed desperately. Her left leg didn’t seem to be responding. Trika’s boot ground into her back, sending waves of agony down her spine. Was it shattered? She couldn’t tell. A razor-sharp blade touched the side of her neck, and Soleyla ceased her struggles.

  “Kill me, bitch,” she growled, tasting gritty mud on her tongue. “Go ahead and kill me, if you dare.”

  “Oh, I dare, Guardian.” Soleyla felt the blade removed as Trika hefted her sword for the killing blow. She raised her head, hoping for one last glimpse of Kantou, but there was nothing but the blur of rain, the flash of lightning…

  She had failed. And now she, and everyone she loved, would die.

  She screamed, hoping he would hear her, wherever he was, hoping he would know, in his remaining moments, that he had been the final thing in her thoughts.

  “Kantou!”

  Trika grinned, hearing the despair in Soleyla’s voice. At last the haughty bitch knew her place in the world. She and her fancy boy, and that black-haired ox she’d found. Whatever the old tune might say, it appeared money did buy love -- and Trika would have plenty of it, now. Valda would reward her well for this traitor’s death.

  She raised her sword, savoring the moment… and staggered forward as someone shoved her from behind. A furious bellowing filled her ears and she turned, bringing her sword up.

  No. Impossible. He should be dead, dead! No man could survive what had been done to him. They didn’t have the strength, the stamina. She’d seen him, a useless hulk sprawled on the ground, empty and limp as a drained wineskin.

  Snarling, he crouched over Soleyla, glaring up at her -- but Trika noticed the way his arms trembled, the way his legs quivered with strain, and smiled. He wasn’t dead, but he would be. Soon. Men were so weak. He barely had the strength to keep himself from collapsing on top of the woman he shielded.

  At that, a bitter envy flared through Trika. No one had ever shielded her. No one had ever taken her to Porto, bought her a fancy pleasure-slave. No one had used their influence to gain her a commission; she’d had to earn it, every grinding, exhausting, ass-kissing step of the way. No one had ever -- Trika felt bile burn in the pit of her stomach, felt rage race like wildfire along her limbs as Rolen glared up at her, defending the daughter of the woman who’d ordered his enslavement -- loved her.

  Screeching like an enraged cat, she plunged her sword at Rolen, knowing he was too weak to stand, much less fight her. Men, she sneered silently, just don’t have the stamina.

  As Rolen rolled to one side, seizing Soleyla’s sword and thrusting it up through her belly, Tri
ka discovered just how little she knew about men.

  * * *

  “Kantou!”

  At Soleyla’s scream, Kantou’s head jerked up. Looking past the Guardians racing toward him, he saw the League soldiers falling back, regrouping. Rolen, standing over Soleyla with her sword in his hands, staggered and collapsed heavily to one knee. Jerril and the Antoreans swept past them, forming a thick protective line between them and the command center.

  There were some thirty Guardians remaining, grouped in a tight knot before the command center’s main entrance, shielding it against the Antorean men. Valda had disappeared, inside, Kantou assumed.

  Anguish twisted through him as he realized how close they’d come, how heartbreakingly close. Then the two soldiers rushed him and he stumbled back, tripping over the portal’s power cable.

  An almost inaudible whine pierced his skull, and the portal frame seemed to pulse with light. The support troops were coming through.

  It was all over.

  He rolled as a blade sliced down at him, wondering even as he did so why he was bothering. It bit into the thick rubber casing of the cable just where his neck had been not a second before. As the second sword flashed down, even as he dove aside, he saw again in his mind’s eye that first blade arcing down, slashing deep into the cable -- and Kantou knew he had one last, slim, impossible chance.

  * * *

  Crouched beside Soleyla, shaking with exhaustion, Rolen nodded toward the men holding the few remaining soldiers at bay.

  “Damned if we didn’t do it, Guardian.” He gave her a wide, tremulous grin.

  “No.” Soleyla pushed herself up on her arms, dragging her right leg awkwardly behind her. “We didn’t.” Her gaze, black and burning, was turned past him, ignoring the face-off before the control center.

  Rolen turned -- and froze, feeling victory slip like sodden ashes into despair. Between the gleaming posts of the portal, a wall of fresh troops, thirty across, were pushing through what looked like a veil of light, ripping it. Behind them, dimly, he could see more ranks massed, waiting to come through.

  And there was nothing they could do, not any of them, to stop it. Rolen groaned and hid his face in despair.

  * * *

  Kantou lunged again, desperately, just ahead of the two blades. He had to do this right, had to get the angle, the momentum… Pistoning to his feet, he turned to run -- and stumbled in the mud. He threw his arms out hopelessly, but the ground rushed up at him. The cable snapped his head back, smashed brutally against his windpipe as he fell, his neck stretched across the cable, a perfect, irresistible target. Stunned, he lay, hearing the two Guardians pounce, their swords raised for the blow -- and threw himself aside just as their blades whistled down.

  League-forged steel, tempered to a scalpel-like sharpness, sheared through the thick rubber as if it were cloth. Sparks flew as metal bit into wire, and Kantou, panting, one cheek pressed to the ground, watched as the Guardians arched, their skin and hair and nostrils smoking, as raw electricity flowed through their swords and into their bodies.

  Behind him, the portal’s field flickered spastically, and he heard a brief, truncated shriek as the shock wave seared the support troops, cleaving them as neatly as a laser. The whine of the generators spiraled to an impossibly high pitch, throbbed once, and dropped back down as an emergency switch tripped, cutting power to the cable. The dead Guardians fell, their bodies burnt and twisted. Sickened, Kantou gagged, then staggered to his feet. Ahead, he could see the field of the smaller portal glowing. The thick air smelled of ozone, and charred flesh. It scraped at his throat as he ran, pausing only to bend and snatch a sword from the hand of a fallen Antorean.

  There was a metallic thud behind him, and a shriek of rage. Kantou caught a glimpse of Valda, her face contorted in fury, slamming through the side door of the command center and pounding after him.

  * * *

  “Kantou!”

  Soleyla heaved herself up, fell back as her right leg collapsed under her. The tendons in her neck stood out as she dragged herself back to her feet, lurched into a run, overriding the agony that stabbed up her leg at every stride. “Kantou!” she screamed again.

  Behind her, she could hear Rolen staggering, trying to follow. He shouted instead, and from the corner of her eye Soleyla saw a handful of men peel away from the group surrounding the defeated Guardians. They dashed after her through the pelting rain, but it was too far, the gap was too wide… Reaching for every last, desperate ounce of her formidable will, Soleyla sprinted, overriding crushed nerves and screaming tendons, and gained a yard on Valda, two…

  Kantou was hacking desperately at the power cable. Valda threw herself at him. Behind them, the portal blazed, and Soleyla lunged forward, shrieking like an enraged hawk. Valda didn’t even glance at her as she seized Kantou, yanking him away from the cable. Grabbing his hair, she spun him to face Soleyla, drew his head back and laid her sword across his throat.

  Soleyla staggered to a stop, gasping, pleading mutely with the gray-haired woman. Behind her, she heard the men rushing up, and frantically waved them back. Time seemed to stop, freezing them in an eternal tableau. In it, Soleyla could note every treasured, familiar curve of Kantou’s face; the scared, yearning gaze of his clear gray eyes; the way his beautiful, ash brown hair fell, gleaming, over his shoulders; the throb of the artery in his long graceful neck, just underneath the cruelly keen edge of Valda’s blade.

  Contemptuously, Valda watched Soleyla’s face go deathly pale, and sneered with disdain. “Is this what you did it for? A slave?” Her voice was incredulous. Soleyla panted, unable to answer.

  Valda curved her lips into a smile as sharp as a knife. “Congratulations, Soleyla. You’ve succeeded. Antoros is yours… for what it’s worth.” Her eyes raked the bloody, mud-spattered men holding the remaining Guardians at sword point. “I hope you enjoy the taste of your victory.”

  She moved suddenly, and Soleyla watched in horror as, with a contemptuous shove, Valda propelled Kantou into the blazing field of the portal. Whirling, the commander raised her sword, and with one murderous sweep severed the cable. Her body jerked, seared by the power pulsing through her sword, and immediately the portal went black.

  “No!”

  Soleyla lunged forward as Valda fell. Rain poured down, thudding around her as the generators whined once and died. Screaming, Soleyla drove her sword, uselessly, through Valda’s lifeless chest, again and again and again. But it was too late.

  Kantou was gone.

  Don’t miss the exciting conclusion in

  The Devarian Trilogy:

  Devarian Revolution

  Driven by her grief and fury at the loss of Kantou, Soleyla Devarian leads her forces to victory against the Nine-Star League. Planet after planet falls to Soleyla’s revolution, aided by the slaves who rally to her cause. Now the only hurdle remaining is the conquest of Argulus, the capitol planet of the Nine-Star League, ruled by Soleyla’s mother.

  In a deadly face-off between mother and daughter, Soleyla finally learns the shocking fate of Danel, her first pleasure-slave -- and discovers that Rachel Devarian holds Kantou’s fate in her cold grasp as well. Can Soleyla find a way to save her beloved Kantou, or must she sacrifice the man she loves to save the galaxy from her mother’s tyranny?

  Sierra Dafoe

  Sierra Dafoe imprinted early on the one, the real, the only Robin Hood (and we all know who that is!) and has been in love with the heroic adventure story ever since. She branched out from there into fantasy and science fiction and even a few forays into horror, but still has a deep-seated weakness for those cocky, handsome rebels.

  Rather unsurprisingly, Sierra lives in northern New Hampshire’s White Mountains -- which is good, because nothing short of their beauty would likely ever drag her away from her keyboard! After years of publishing short stories, she’s thrilled to be making her novella debut with Changeling Press and would love to hear your feedback. Visit her at her website, www.darkerdesires.com, for
excerpts, contests, freebies, and more!