Capture: The Relissarium Wars Space Opera Series, Book 6 Read online

  Grandmother Yasta thought for a moment. “What is the usual nature of your dreams?”

  “Honestly, I don’t really have them. I always assumed it was part of the cyborg directives that were hardwired into my system. The last time I had a dream was when I was fully human.”

  “I see.” The woman paused for a moment, weighing her next words carefully. “I think you may have been blessed with the gift of dreams of prophecy. However, after listening to the nature of your dream, I hate to think what it could mean. I would very much like it if you would come to me in the event that you have more similarly abnormal dreams. Do you think you can do that?”

  “Y-yes, but why would Batumah give a gift like that to someone as unworthy and unnatural as me?” Cherish looked down at her metal arms. They shone brightly in the moonlight. For the first time in a long while, she acknowledged the shame she felt at what she had become. She tried to ignore it most of the time, and do her best, but tonight was not a night for fake smiles and bravery. It was a night for unmasked truth.

  Grandmother Yasta gently lifted Cherish’s chin, until the young woman was looking at her. “Dear one, Batumah cares not what our bodies are made of. He only cares what our hearts are made of.” The older woman placed a gentle hand over Cherish’s heart. “The real sin of the emperor’s reign is not in the heedless corruption of natural bodies, but in the corruption of a heart that can no longer see the natural beauty and sanctity of the vessel, given to it by a benevolent and all-powerful creator. When men begin to try and improve the creator’s work according to human wisdom, that is when the real tragedy occurs. You did not seek this life. If anything, your actions in seeking us here has shown Batumah that you are worthy of his gifts. Now, if only the rest of us mortals could see so clearly, and judge so rightly. Try to forgive those who scorn you, child. It is not their judgement or approval that you should seek. Batumah knows what is in your heart. Their negativity will not feed you, if you do not let it.”

  Cherish felt hot tears stream down her face. An inner peace settled upon her like an impossibly warm, soft blanket. It had been so many years since she had felt truly accepted and seen, not as a cyborg or an augmented human, but as a soul that was capable of being worthy.

  Four

  A soft buzzing on Cierra’s wrist woke her up. The chronometer flashed and vibrated. It would soon be dawn; time for morning exercises. Cierra rolled onto her side, and turned off the alarm. Her eyes settled on Theo, who was still sleeping like a rock, on the floor. His hair was tousled softly around his forehead. He didn’t look half bad.

  Cierra frowned to herself. What was she thinking? She was angry with herself, and needed some sort of outlet. Reaching behind her head, Cierra pulled the pillow across her body. With a violent swing, she chucked the pillow at Theo’s head. Bullseye.

  “Hey! What was that for?!” Theo ripped the pillow off of his face, and propped himself up on his elbows. His eyebrows were pulled into a grumpy frown.

  “Just wanted to make sure you were still alive. I couldn’t tell if you were still breathing or not.” Her voice was short. A sarcastic smile hovered on her lips.

  “Why can’t you just say something like, ‘Oh, good morning, Theo? Did you sleep well?’ You would make a terrible wife.” As soon as he said it, he regretted it.

  It was early, and he wasn’t thinking clearly. From the distraught look on her face, he could tell that she had immediately remembered Remi. How long had it been since they had both lost their better halves in the incineration of Relisse? The image of their home planet being engulfed in flames was seared into his mind. His mind drifted back to his first night with Cierra in the monastery: the awkwardness over their only being one bed, and Cierra’s flood of tears, when she could hold back her grief no more.

  Theo sighed. He felt terrible. “Cierra, I didn’t mean that. I shouldn’t have said that you would make a terrible—”

  “Just stop. Don’t make it worse. I’ll be fine.”

  He opened his mouth again, but no more words would come out. They had only been awake for a few minutes, and he had already put her in a bad mood. It seemed that he had been doing that more and more lately. Maybe Batumah had blessed him with two gifts: the gift of healing, and the gift of pissing off Cierra.

  “Come on. We’re already running late for warm-ups.” Cierra opened the door, and waited for him to follow her.

  They walked in silence towards the courtyard, where everyone would be stretching and getting ready for the day. Overhead, floating lanterns cast purples, pinks, and greens on the world. The Dargani festival lights were already in place, for the upcoming holiday. The pre-dawn sky was hazy with mist and wispy clouds, clinging to the mountainside like cotton wool. It made the monastery almost seem like something out of a fairytale.

  Cierra and Theo walked side by side. Both of them were looking up at the sky, and not paying attention to where they were going. Their hands brushed against each other. Instantly, both of them jerked apart. Theo’s attention immediately snapped to the front, to watch where he was going. Looking for an escape, Cierra spotted Makram and Cherish doing stretches on the far side of the courtyard. She took off at a brisk pace, quickly leaving Theo behind. Not wanting to follow her, he scanned the area for anyone else that he might be able to join. As luck would have it, Irane and Jaedo were in the middle of a group that was wrestling. Theo let out a sigh of relief, and jogged over to them.

  “He’s a child! You can take him!” An Aphaian that Theo didn’t recognize was yelling at a Josti, who was taking a chance on wrestling Irane. The feathers along the Aphaian’s neck were ruffled up in excited agitation.

  Jaedo wheezed out a laugh as the other Josti struggled to get all four arms around Irane. “Batumah does not care about age, only worthiness! The boy can hold his own.”

  Irane lifted the pale green Josti over his head. Half the crowd cheered loudly at the display. The boy began to spin his opponent around over his head like a baton. The Josti threw up his top two arms and crossed them at the wrist. It was the sign they had been taught to use if they wanted to forfeit the match, in case of a sparring emergency or accident. The Josti knew he had been defeated. Irane carefully lowered him to the ground. Anger filled his opponent’s eyes.

  Realizing that he may have gone too far, and humiliated the Josti, Irane extended a hand and spoke loudly so that the gathering crowd could hear him. “I was not the one that won this match. The strength I used was not my own, but Batumah’s. Had I not been granted the gift of strength, Bokka would have dispatched me in under a second. He is a formidable opponent, and I am honored that he would spar with me.”

  Bokka thought over what Irane had just said, and reached out one of his hands in turn. The two of them grasped forearms, and bowed their heads slightly as a sign of mutual respect. Theo watched the spectacle. Irane may have been young, but it was impressive how he handled himself in situations. The boy knew how to read a room, and could placate those who he may have offended. Theo silently wondered if Irane could teach him how to do that. It could come in handy with Cierra. Without paying attention, his eyes casually skimmed the courtyard to see where she was now. He spotted her sitting with Cherish near the wall. Cierra noticed him looking at them, and glared at him. Theo’s face burned, and he scorned himself for looking at her in the first place. He began to busy himself by focusing on the next wrestling match, which was about to begin.

  Cherish noticed Cierra roll her eyes and scoff. While stretching out her legs in front of her, Cherish raised one eyebrow. “Trouble in paradise?”

  “He just keeps getting on my nerves. I don’t know how you and Makram do it.” Cierra made sure to keep her voice low so that no one else could hear them.

  Shrugging, Cherish stretched her arms out. “I never really thought about it. We just don’t seem to have the same…tension…that you two do. It just comes naturally.”

  “Tension? What’s that supposed to mean?” Her voice snapped a little more than she had meant it to, bu
t her aggravation with Theo was magnified by Cherish’s comment. “If the situation was reversed, I guarantee that you would have just as much of a problem with Theo as I do.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “And why is that?” Cierra spat the words at her friend. Her muscles were stiff with anger. It made stretching difficult.

  Instead of answering, Cherish simply gave her a pointed look and then changed the subject. It was clear that talking about Theo was only going to aggravate Cierra more. Besides, Cherish had news of her own to share. “You’ll never guess what happened last night. I had a dream.”

  “A dream? I thought you couldn’t have those.”

  “That’s what I thought, too. Apparently, I was wrong.” Cherish leaned in closer, under the guise of stretching more.

  “How is that even possible?”

  “According to Grandmother Yasta, it may be my gift.”

  “Your gift is dreaming?” Cierra fought the urge to roll her eyes.

  “Not just dreaming. She thinks I may have had a dream of prophecy.” Cherish waited for some sort of excited recognition from her friend, but instead Cierra’s mood only seemed to darken more. Cherish’s excitement at being chosen as worthy of Batumah’s gift diminished slightly. She had thought that Cierra, of all people, would be happy for her. She remembered what Grandmother Yasta had said. If she didn’t let someone else’s negativity feed her, then it couldn’t affect her.

  Cierra’s lips were tight. Why was everyone else being given a gift except for her? “What was your prophecy?”

  Cherish explained about the clouds, and the insects. She watched Cierra’s face, as she recounted the dream. It was hard to guess at her thoughts. “I’m not sure what it all means,” Cherish continued. “Maybe the clouds represent the main monasteries on Mithuna, and the one that I’m at—we’re at—is in trouble. Maybe we aren’t supposed to go through with the mission. What do you think?”

  Grinding her teeth together, Cierra threw all of her anger at Cherish. “I think your circuits are fried. Remember why you’re here. Don’t let them brainwash you. I thought you were too smart to get too deep under cover. That’s usually a rookie mistake. Get your head in the game.”

  “Look, Theo might let you get away with talking to him like that, but I’m not him. You’re not understanding me at all. I’m not brainwashed. Do you remember why I joined the Carbonari? The Yasta rejected me as an acolyte back on Carristoux. They said I was unnatural. That was the day I turned my back on them. You know how hard it is for me to be accepted. You’ve seen the prejudice I have to put up with. These people are more accepting; they seem genuinely good and, on top of that, they have made me feel like I am actually worth something.” Cherish was mostly talking about Grandmother Yasta, but somehow that didn’t matter. What she said was true. Overall, the monks at the Kinyah monastery had been nothing but kind and informative.

  “Did it ever occur to you that that was how they brainwashed people? Make someone feel special enough, and maybe they’ll burn a whole planet alive.” The venom in Cierra’s voice stung.

  “Why can’t you just listen to me? In my dream, or prophecy, or whatever, it was the black button wasps that were destroying the little glowing insects. It was evil destroying good. What if we are the evil ones about to destroy the good? Maybe Theo is right. Maybe not all of the Yasta are bad. Maybe there is just a small cell of corrupt Yasta that are doing rogue operations.”

  Bringing up Theo only bolstered the anger Cierra was feeling. “You’re mixing it all up. You were on one of five clouds, right? How many of us are left? Me, you, Makram, Irane, and Theo. The clouds represent us. We are each one of the five remaining beacons of hope for the Carbonari, and the universe. We are under threat of being overrun and destroyed by the Yasta. If we fall, the mission will fail. The others are counting on us. It was a warning to keep our wits about us. Maybe your cloud was the first to be attacked because you’re becoming a Yasta sympathizer. You’re the one most at risk of being taken down, all because an old woman held your hand, and told you that you were special. Give me a break. We aren’t little kids anymore, Cherish. Grow up.”

  Cherish felt shame burning inside her. Almost all of the kind warmth she had been feeling was fading. “What proof do we have that the higher ups in the Yasta even know what is going on? What if Garth or Karl or whatever his name is was just an impersonator? For all we know, he could be some rogue with a set of Yasta robes, who just runs around, doing whatever he pleases.”

  Shaking her head, Cierra shot that theory down. “If that were true, he wouldn’t have been on Relisse, when we went to destroy the mines. A non-Yasta wouldn’t have been allowed to be there. How in the world could the Yasta not know about everything that has been going on?”

  “How could we not know that Hojae was a traitor for so long?”

  Cherish’s counter point made Cierra falter, for the first time. It was true. They hadn’t known that Hojae had betrayed them, until they had already lost several members, and important missions had been compromised. She looked around, to gather her thoughts. Movement from her peripheral vision caught her attention.

  A large man with a familiar gait strode arrogantly through the front entrance. Cierra’s anger found a new target. Her hands balled into fists, at her sides. She would have recognized him anywhere. Karl had just entered the monastery.

  Five

  Theo was struggling to gain the upper hand. He was wrestling against some sort of being whose skin reminded him of stone. The man was a head smaller than Theo, but he was stouter than a water buffalo. The crowd that was gathered around them to watch the match was yelling out suggestions. It just sounded like a wordless roar in the heat of the moment. He spotted an opening and went for it.

  Right as he was about to get his opponent in a headlock, he saw a large figure walk through the entrance. Theo’s concentration failed. In a split second, he felt himself get knocked off of his feet. A boulder of a fist slammed him into the ground. With one punch, Theo’s skull fractured. The crowd groaned and backed away. Blood trickled out of Theo’s ear.

  In a few moments, his body mended itself. After seeing what had happened to him, no one was particularly excited about going next against him. Theo’s opponent tried to apologize, and mumbled something about forgetting his own strength and getting carried away. Theo clapped the man on the shoulder, as a rushed sign of forgiveness. His feet were already making a beeline for Cherish and Cierra.

  Makram had been stretching with another part of the group a few seconds ago, but he was already beside the two women. “Cherish, what is it?” He could tell from her face that something was wrong.

  Theo burst into the conversation. “Did you see him?”

  “See who?” Makram had missed their enemy’s entrance.

  “Karl.” Theo wiped the dried blood from his cheeks.

  “How is that possible? Didn’t we see him die?”

  Cierra folded her arms over her chest “Obviously, he didn’t. What kind of evil could survive that blast? The Yasta are evil. You have to see that. This is just all the more reason we need to act quickly.”

  “Just because he survived, doesn’t mean they’re all evil.” Cherish was still desperately trying to hold on to her fading feeling of wellbeing.

  Footsteps made them look up. Irane had noticed them, and had come over to discuss the new development. Like always, he was very logical in his approach to the situation. For someone so young, he had a good head on his shoulders. It was one of the reasons the team liked having him around. “I’m not so sure acting quickly is a good idea. Karl is most likely here for the Dargani festival. The smart thing to do would be to wait and stick to the plan. Acting early could tip them off about the other Carbonari squads that were sent to infiltrate the other monasteries. Don’t let your personal emotions get in the way of the main picture.”

  “Maybe Cierra is right.” Theo’s voice was thick with anger.

  She blinked at him in surprise. What just h
appened? Was Theo actually agreeing with her? “You’re back on board with the plan?”

  “If Karl is here, there is nothing I won’t do to make sure he dies. The sooner, the better.”

  “We could do it tonight.” Cierra looked around hopefully. “We could take him—them—out before they even realized what was happening. It might even be easier now since not all of the traveling warriors are here yet. There would be less chance of us being overthrown. We’d have a higher chance of survival if things did try to go south.”

  Makram held up a hand, to stop her from rushing into planning a full-on attack. He knew Cierra well enough to know that she often leapt into things feet first when she got excited. He needed to nip her planning in the bud while he still could. “Wait just a minute. I’m the commander now, since Philo isn’t with us anymore. I think Irane had a point about going along with the original plan. It’s not worth it to take out one monastery if it tips them off about the other ones. We might be able to take ours down, but that would leave four more on high alert. We can’t put our other operatives at risk like that. The success of the mission is the most important thing. Since we don’t have a way to contact Hubard or anyone else, there’s no way we could warn them about speeding up the timeline. There’s more at stake here than just our lives. We need to consider what plan of action will do the most good for our cause, not just what is the most beneficial or the easiest for us.”