Death Ship 3: Burst Mode by Michael-Scott Earle

Author:Michael-Scott Earle [Earle, Michael-Scott]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: MSE Publishing, LLC.
Published: 2018-06-12T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

Kira chewed on her thumb as she watched the repair drones trundle between the manufactory and the landing pad. Her eyes never strayed from the scene though I knew her thoughts were far away.

She hadn’t reacted well to the revelation that our employer was the last surviving Chotlis goddess.

“I’m not upset, Jay,” she said as she eyeballed an enormous cargo drone loaded down with hull repair plates. “But I am worried.”

Ingrael didn’t approach Kira, but she spoke up loud enough for her words to reach every corner of Seymour’s flight deck. She tempered her regal demeanor with a humble tone, and I hoped that would help ease Kira’s tension.

“You are right to be afraid of what my people did in the past,” she said. “I am ashamed that the Final Light was ever constructed, much less unleashed in anger. If I had my way, such a weapon would never be used again. That is why I will lead you to where the last of the Chotlis have hidden themselves. Together, we will judge their future and ensure the safety of the galaxy.”

“And how do you propose we keep the galaxy safe from this superweapon?” Kira asked.

“We will destroy the Final Light,” Ingrael said.

Myrin turned in her flight chair like a cat in search of a comfortable position. She eventually settled on leaning her head on one of the chair’s arms and dangling her legs over its other side.

“Someone needs to fill me in on this Final Light business,” she said. “I understand it’s a big bad weapon that scares the shit out of everyone, but what’s its deal, exactly?”

Kira half-turned to face her sister, then snorted and pointed a finger at Ingrael.

“Ask her,” she said.

“I just did,” Myrin huffed, and for a moment I thought I was about to see the Alari sisters have their first fight. Then Myrin let out a sigh and gestured toward Ingrael. “Fine. Will you tell me what’s going on with this thing?”

Ingrael folded her legs beneath her as she settled into another flight chair. She crossed her arms over her abdomen and leaned forward to rest her chin on her steepled fingertips. She still wore her ornate, wide-brimmed hat, but had removed the veil so the team could see her face. If that gesture was supposed to put everyone at ease, it didn’t seem to be working on Kira.

“It is important to understand the position of the Chotlis at the time the Final Light was deployed,” she began.

Kira shot Ingrael a sharp look accompanied by a short jerk of her head.

“I know you do not agree with what occurred, Ms. Kira Alari,” Ingrael said, an iron edge beneath her words, “but the Chotlis were cornered by the same foe your Heresy now battles. We were pushed to the brink of extinction and our reaction was that of a people without hope.”

“Your people,” Kira said, her face flushed, and her voice tight with anger, “were murderers. Pirates. Barbarians who laid waste to countless hapless trading vessels and peaceful space stations.

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