[05] Elite: Reclamation

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Authors: Drew Wagar
Tags: Fiction, General, Science-Fiction, Space Opera, Hard Science Fiction, books, dangerous, drew, elite, Wagar, Fantastic
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‘You’ve committed no crime other than knowing your own mind. You deserve more than your station allows.’
    ‘Could you torture me, should you wish to?’
    Dalk fixed her with a stare. ‘Why do you think your father chose me?’
    ‘I imagine you’ve done worse in your time,’ Kahina said, shrewdly.
    ‘You imagine correctly.’
    ‘You fought for the independent worlds, so it’s told. Your prowess speaks for itself …’
    ‘I’ve fought for them all, but that was a long time ago,’ Dalk interrupted. ‘My place is here, serving the Loren family.’
    ‘You serve my father, no?’ Kahina teased.
    ‘Indeed. But we must all look to the future. Your father will not be Senator forever.’
    ‘Some might say those are the words of a traitor, Patron Dalk.’ Kahina’s eyes flashed with amusement.
    ‘Mere fact, nothing else,’ Dalk dismissed her with a wave of his hand. ‘Age takes us all in time. Nothing remains constant.’
    Kahina laughed. ‘I will puncture your composure one day, trust me.’
    Dalk grew more serious. ‘Perhaps the Reclamists will succeed in their aims. Perhaps the slaves will revolt and overrun the administration. Perhaps the Empire will intervene.’
    ‘A catalogue of possible woes.’
    Dalk looked at her carefully. ‘Or perhaps another Senator may emerge from the esteemed Loren Lineage. Whosoever they might be, they must be prepared for the task ahead. Strong, sound of mind and purpose; would you not agree?’
    Kahina made a dismissive sound. ‘I have not the tact for politics.’
    ‘You did well in diverting that Rebian wastrel, but take care not to antagonise others unless unavoidable. Cultivate allies as well as enemies and perhaps you may find yourself in a position of opportunity.’
    ‘I’m in debt to your guidance, wise old man,’ Kahina said, raising an eyebrow. ‘Will you always guide me?’
    Dalk looked at her appraisingly and then picked up her sword, tossing it towards her. Kahina caught it expertly by the hilt and spun her wrist around with a quick circular movement, before dropping into a ready stance.
    ‘More bruises?’ she enquired.
     ‘Your treatment must look compelling,’ Dalk replied. ‘I have a reputation to maintain.’
    ‘Come and get me, old man.’
    Their swords clashed again, sparks flew.
     

Chapter Two
     
    Sushil jumped the gate and then leant back on it, admiring the view of the family agri-site from the summit of the low hill. Below, rolling green planes dotted with deciduous woods divided by the sinuous run of a river. The water flickered and sparkled in the bright light of twin stars. Nicknamed ‘niece’ and ‘nephew’ for reasons long forgotten, each added a different hue to the vista; one a warm red, the other an actinic blue. Sushil loved the overlapping shadows cast by everything he could see.
    Before him, looking incongruous parked adjacent to the tilled soil and neat rows of growing vegetation, sat a spacecraft. It was an old design, its hull a patchwork of tarnished duralium, with the occasional bright shiny repair panel secured in place. The ship was squat, short, but wide, reminiscent of an old atmospheric ship. Twin wing pods extended port and starboard, giving it a rakish profile. A single-man vessel based on the size of the cockpit, though Sushil knew it had been retrofitted with a second seat aboard.
    Faint sounds of whirring could be heard, accompanied by brief flickers of light from the underside. Sushil grinned.
    He’d found his brother.
    He hurried down the hill, feeling the heat of the suns on his dark face. It was a relief to be in the shadows of the ship. Sushil found his brother working away with a welder, his face hidden behind a dark protective mask.
    ‘Don’t tell me, the undercarriage is stuck again. I thought you’d fixed that, bro.’
    The welder fizzed and died. His brother sat back wearily and pulled the mask off his head. His face was drenched with sweat, his long black hair bedraggled and damp. Sushil saw

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