Stained Gold, Red Rising Fan Fiction

Red Rise Part 2

"Good." Mother points to a nearby sewage drain. "See that?"

I nod again. The drain is about six feet to our right, carved into the duracrete curb, with a hover truck parked above it.

"I'm gonna give you cover. When I do, I want you to go for it. Our hunters are all fully armored Golds and Obsidians in ghostCloaks and gravBoots. They won't be able to follow."

"But--?"

"No buts. This is our only hope." She kisses me on the lips. "Tell Julius I love him, and never forgot him for one minute. And remember Lil Reaper. You've twenty-seven generations of Reaper blood coursing through your veins."

"Momma--"

She offers me one last, loving look, then leaps up and fires her pulseRifle on full auto, bellowing: "Hail Reaper, Motherfuckers!"

I ditch the backpack and dive for the drain. It's a tight fit, even for me, but I squirm inside and tumble several feet through open darkness to crash on my side in a mildew- and muck-scented stream of water.

I've possibly cracked a rib or two, and it hurts like Hades to breathe, but I force myself to suck in several deep lungfuls of fetid air to awaken my senses.

Back up top, several explosions roar, and Mother's rifle goes silent. I stifle a whimper and trudge off down the sewer pipe, aimed towards a faint pinprick of light floating in the murky distance.

                                                             * * *

"Lord Lykos, Warlord Seven-Worlds sends word. He's in position and says we can let fall the Rain when ready," says Astrid, my Blue Fleet Admiral, standing next to me on the bridge of Ragnar's Tears; the largest Super Dreadnaught ever constructed by the Ares Imperial Ship Yards orbiting Athena's Breath in the Varies System--an Imperial Red Rising World.

I nod. It's about time. This has been the most convoluted, multi-sided war I've ever taken part in. And I'm way past the point of bloodydamn regret. Warlord Seven-Worlds is a douchebag of a leader, and his subject planets loathe him, which means nothing ever gets done when it's supposed to. If it did, the man wouldn't require my services. Already we're thirty days beyond our agreed upon contract length. And if I didn't need the remainder of the money he promised to feed my men and fuel my war machine, I'd already have pulled my ships from his battleline and sought out greener pastures.

"Pass, the word. Rain in ten," I say reluctantly. I hate the idea of using my people as mercenaries, but without an Empress to rally behind, a war against the Rising Empire would be useless. No, worse than useless. Suicidal.

I frown as the bridge's blast door cycles open and in walks my son Markus, fully armored and armed. "Why aren't you meched-up and in a spitTube?" I say. "We Rain in ten."

Markus's bearhead-shaped helmet retracts, revealing his classical, chiseled Golden face drilled with blue-black Stained ink. The same Stained ink decorating my own face. The Stained tats of The Empress's Own.

A cat-like grin cuts his cheeks. "No we don't, father."

"What?"

My son's grin widens. "Pavlova was out running pickets in that new corvette of hers--just like you instructed--when she detected a deep gravWave..." A single tear leaks from his eye and slides down into his beard. "...We found her, Papa. It was the heirBeacon. We found Aunt Pandora."

"The heirBeacon?" An imaginary set of arms chokes the breath from me. I momentarily swoon. It takes a heartbeat or two, but I battle back my baseless hope and reason wins out.

I shake my head. "No, Son. Pandora has surely been dead these past seventeen years. This has to be one of the Weasel King's traps. Your sister means well, but she's always been too sentimental where your aunt is concerned."

"You're wrong, Papa," Markus says, voice soft, so the rest of the bridge does not hear him disagree with his commanding officer. "She jumped to the beacon's location. It's way out on the other side of known space on the edge of Sector Sixteen. And guess what? It's under attack by the Gorgons."

I stare at my son for several long ticks as I consider his words. I then ask myself what Pandora would do if the roles were reversed? The answer comes almost immediately, but my heart wrestles with the hurt and pain and hope I'd buried so long ago.

I turn to Astrid, her Stained face radiates hope. "Hail my daughter," I say to her.

The Blue Admiral grins and turns to the Red girl running the coms dock. "Lily, you heard the man, hail Dirty Rat and tell them Lord Lykos wishes to speak with Lady Pavlova."

Twenty seconds later, a 3D image of my daughter, suited and booted for battle in her golden Imperial armor, appears before me. "Yes, Papa?" she says sweetly, in the same tone of voice she's always used when in trouble with me.

"We'll talk of your unsanctioned jump later," I say, "right now I want your assessment of the situation."

"It's her, Papa. The Gorgons are swarming like hyenas on a carcus. We both know they've been hunting her for at least a decade. Something she did on one of their planets."

"Rumor and speculation. Give me more."

Pavlova's brow draws down in thought. "Let me see... The beacon is emanating from the planet's largest city. And it's mobile. It was on the move the entire time I sat there cloaked and monitored it. And for a simple smash and grab on a shit-hole planet, the Gorgons have arrived awfully deep. They brought along at least 20 Gorgon Class II dreadnaughts, with full support and all the whistles. And only half the planet's shields are up, which means they've inside help. Plus, what the fuck are the Gorgon's doing all the way out there, to begin with? The logistics for such an incursion have to be a nightmare. Even if they had tunnelDrives"--She flashes her gold-capped teeth--"Which of course they do not, thanks to Aunt Pandora."