Nascent Decay (The Goddess of Decay Book 1) (28 page)

Most of the slaves were already broken mentally and emotionally, and they were ignorant and uneducated as well. Most still practiced primitive and naive superstitions, such as believing in magic and sorcery. Many were infirm and sick. She didn’t know what kind of rebellion they would make, but that was Quasar’s problem.

“So the last target is an area of massive population that’s more heavily guarded than the rest,” Mersi said over the com channel. “Shouldn’t be a problem for you guys, but be careful anyway.”

“Revolt is really beginning to spread across the planet now,” Isaar’s voice followed. “Knocking out the main shipping ports has allowed the freed slaves to basically run the show. This is actually going better than I had thought it would.” Isaar almost sounded like himself again.
Maybe things are turning around
, Rhylie thought as she landed in front of the gates to the city.

Artillery fire rained down upon her as she sauntered up to the gates. Vorle and Konii alighted behind her. All three were covered from head to toe in their atomorphic skin, dull gray harbingers of revolution. They could have just landed inside the city walls, but she’d always had a flair for the dramatic, ever since she was a little girl. It was time to make an entrance. She reached out to touch one of the massive gates. They would have to open them from the inside anyway to allow the slaves to flood the city.

Her hand began to pool on the door, sending out slender tendrils that wriggled and pulsed as they grew and spread, spanning the immense gates with an organic fractal of dull gray. She fanned them out into a large semicircle as Vorle and Konii stood back, watching her. The arched web covering the doors began to glow with white hot intensity, sinking into the crude metal of the gates.

The entire area beneath the tendrils began to melt, flowing to the ground in molten streams and pooling around their feet. She pushed the tendrils deeper, cutting through to the other side with them.

The entire mass slopped to the ground in a pile of glowing slag. She withdrew her hand and stepped through the massive hole, the molten metal sliding from her skin harmlessly. She lifted herself up off the ground with her gravity well and began to hover down the street silently as suppressive fire continued to rain down upon her.

Wherever she saw flashes from artillery, she darted to them, skewering and eviscerating them with her finger-blades. If there was just one of them, she would send out a tendril and drag them out into the streets to be gunned down mercilessly by their fellow guards. Sometimes it was easier to just let the work do itself. She cackled wildly at the thought, but it was drowned out by the overpowering sounds of conflict around her.

They proceeded clearing the streets as slaves began rushing in through the gates behind them. The slaves would take care of anyone that they left behind. Rhylie knew they would eat well tonight. The thought disgusted her, but it was far from the worst thing she had contemplated recently. She wondered what Siirocian tasted like. Maybe one day she would find out. She cackled again, madly this time.

The slaves flooded the city, spreading through the streets and dragging people from their homes as the three of them continued on. Her, Konii, and Vorle were hit with explosives, fire, anything the people of the city could throw at her. Someone even threw a bottle at her. As they drew close to the palace at the center of the city, a single ship launched from it, streaking into the sky. She could just let Quasar handle it, but they were busy hijacking the dockyards across the planet and loading slaves onto waiting transport shops. Quasar was in charge of making sure no spacecraft left the planet, but Rhylie had a feeling this one was special.

“Vorle? Would you take care of that?” she asked over the com device. The sound of gunfire was too loud to communicate otherwise.

Vorle nodded his head once in response and launched into the sky, giving chase to the fleeing ship. Rhylie had a pretty good idea who was on it. Vorle was actually the best out of the three of them at controlling his flight; he seemed to have a natural affinity for it. One of the benefits of being born with wings, she supposed.

She and Konii continued working their way up to the Palace. Once they were inside, however, it was strangely empty. Either all of the guards had already been deployed to stop her or the palace had been completely evacuated. It had an uncanny sort of peacefulness to it, compared to the violence raging outside, like the eye of a hurricane.

Through the grand foyer and between the two double staircases she walked quietly. The further she went, the more cautious she became. Konii hovered silently on her left side; her lower half was now tentacles. It was a frightening and unnerving site that had sent many people running from them.

“Rhylie?” Isaar asked over the com channel.

“I’m just doing some sight seeing,” she replied.

“Okay. We are officially done here,” said Isaar. “There is no way they can recapture the planet before we load up the ships and vacate it.”

“Lord Jascon has been captured,” Vorle’s voice came over the com. “I have him in my custody. What do you want me to do with him?”

“Execute him,” said Rhylie coldly as she continued through the palace. It was really nice, if crude. It was obviously built by hand, probably by slaves. It reminded her of some of the stately old buildings she had seen in London. She wished now that she had paid more attention on those school field trips. The contrast between the luxury around her and the slum fields the slaves lived in made her even more angry.

“No, hand him over to Quasar,” said Isaar.

“Fine. Take him to Quasar,” said Rhylie. “I don’t care.”

“Um, Rhylie,” Mersi said over the com. “Maybe you two should get out of there.”

“Why?” asked Rhylie.

“Because there’s a direct feed from a Siirocian channel connected to the throne room,” she replied. Rhylie stopped just in front of the two large double doors in front of her.

“I thought there was no way to get a feed out?” Rhylie asked.

“They must have a shielded feed for emergencies that we didn’t know about,” Mersi said. “Something completely separate from the entire planet’s network.”

“Fuck.” Rhyile said. Her face flushed with heat as she stood there for a long moment. Finally she raised her hand and pushed the door open.

In the center of the throne room stood a hologram of Vorcia. She looked different now. Rhylie realized she had breasts, which made her angrier for some reason.

“I’ve been expecting you,” she said warmly, smiling. Rhylie took a few steps towards her. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you,” Vorcia cooed. “Look at you, all grown up. I love your outfit.”

“Fuck you, cunt,” Rhylie spat out at her in frustration. She wanted to throw herself at the hologram and claw its eyes out.

“Oh my sweet little Gota, is that anyway to treat one of your closest and dearest friends?” Vorcia asked sweetly. “I know all of your secrets, all of your fears. All of your dreams and hopes and your darkest nightmares. You could even say that I have lived some of them with you.” She smiled at Rhylie, showing her mouthful of teeth. “I know what it takes to really push you over the edge. And when I do, you’ll take all of your little friends down with you. I have an offer for you.”

“What do you want, Vorcia?” Rhylie asked as she stared daggers at her.

“I want to open up negotiations. You have put me in a precarious position, Gota,” said Vorcia.

“That’s not my fucking name and you know it,” said Rhylie. Vorcia smiled.

“It will always be your name,” said Vorcia. “I will have it emblazoned upon your grave.” Rhylie clenched her jaw.

“Is this how you negotiate? With threats? Because I have a few of my own,” she said coldly.

“I’m sure you do,” said Vorcia. “But mine are not empty. I have the power and authority of the entire Siirocian Empire behind me, the most powerful military in the galaxy. You have a slave whore, a traitor, and misguided fool. And whatever that thing is over there,” she said, motioning to Konii disdainfully.

“All the fodder in the galaxy won’t save you from me, Vorcia,” Rhylie said coldly. “I
will
hold you accountable for all you’ve done to me and everyone else.” Vorcia snorted derisively.

“It will take more than idle threats to scare me, child,” Vorcia said. “Especially coming from someone as naive and trusting as you are. One day you will open your eyes and see the truth around you.”

“What do you mean?” Rhylie asked.

“I’m sure Isaar hasn’t told you all of his dirty little secrets,” said Vorcia. “How he’s a tech pirate that got his lover killed stealing the very atomorphic tech you’re wearing. Or at least, the mother tech. He has had someone make some interesting modifications to it, I have to admit. I am truly impressed…but, you should ask him where it came from sometime.” There was something queasy about Vorcia’s half-smile that Rhylie did not like.

“I’m sure he’s not half the lying piece of shit you are,” Rhylie said. “If I ask him, he will tell me.” Vorcia laughed condescendingly. That was the question that she’d forgotten to ask. Part of her did not want to know. Part of her knew now for sure. She pushed it aside. She didn’t need another internal conflict right now. She could worry about all of that later.

“Oh dear, sweet, child, I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” she said. “You’re still so naive, even after all you’ve been through.”

“I think you’re going to be surprised at how much I’ve grown,” Rhylie replied menacingly.

“Surrender yourself, and your motley band of misfits, and no one else has to die,” Vorcia said. “I will even allow the lot of you to live out the rest of your lives in isolation in separate Chambers.” Rhylie narrowed her eyes.

“I’ve seen how your negotiations work first hand,” Rhylie said coldly. “It’s a shame you didn’t wait another hour before destroying the earth. I would have been on it.” Vorcia flinched as though Rhylie had slapped her.

“A minor oversight. My overall point was made, I believe,” Vorcia said, recovering quickly. “Make no mistake, Gota. My people will find you. And when they do, you will wish you had turned yourselves in. I will force you to watch your friends die if you make me hunt you down.”

“If you harm a single one of them, I’ll fucking gut you like a fish,” Rhylie hissed angrily. “I’ll fucking drag your body through the galaxy and put it on display as a warning to anyone that would dare-” The feed cut and Vorcia’s fabrication vanished before her eyes, melting into the floor.

“Fucking cunt! Fucking CUNT!! FUCKING CUNT!!!” Rhylie screamed in rage. “Tell me where she’s at, Mersi, I need coordinates now.”

“I couldn’t trace the feed, Rhylie, sorry,” said Mersi over the com. “It was piggybacked through multiple networks. She could be anywhere in the galaxy.”

“Just come back to the ship, Rhylie,” said Isaar. “We will figure something out.”

“Fine,” said Rhylie. She launched herself through the ceiling, and into space, leaving a massive hole in the roof.
Whoever lives there next can fix that shit,
she thought.

When she arrived back at the ship with Konii, Mersi and Isaar were waiting for them in the main compartment.

“We need to act fast,” Isaar said. “Before they can put some contingency plans in place.” Rhylie sat down at the table.

“So what’s up next?” she asked.

“We have another enslaved world in a different quadrant that we are scouting right now, but Quasar will not be finished on Dargh for another ten nanos,” Mersi said.

“Just enough time for you two and Vorle to get some rest,” said Isaar. “The three of you have had a long day.” Rhylie nodded her head in agreement. She wasn’t physically tired, but mentally she was exhausted.

“I could probably use some sleep,” she admitted reluctantly.

“Let us head back to see if Sora and Reskle are doing alright,” said Isaar. “And we will all get some rest while we wait for Quasar to prepare for the next liberation.”

“Is everyone ready?” Isaar asked as he looked around the group. They were all present: Vorle, Konii, Reskle, Sora, and Mersi as well. “Our next target is going to be Tunus, and I do not expect this one will be undefended.”

“I wish you would put a stop to this nonsense,” Sora said bitterly. “Before more lives are lost. You are meddling in an ancient balance that is beyond the scope of your comprehension. The peace we have in the galaxy is precarious, and has grown over time. It cannot be pruned back to begin again without great loss of life, Isaar.”

“You know I respect your counsel, Sora,” Isaar replied. “But people will die even if we do nothing.” Sora frowned.

“The rule of the Masters is harsh, but controlled. What you bring is chaos, uncertainty,” she said. “What you do could throw entire civilizations out of balance for generations upon generations. War is not an endeavor to be taken lightly when peace is already in hand.”

“War is the cost of liberation,” said Isaar sternly. “None of us are free unless we are all free.” Sora shrugged her stooped shoulders in response.

“Some would argue that a caged animal has more freedom than a dead one,” she said. “The life of a slave is better than no life at all, and I speak from experience.”

“I would disagree,” said Rhylie. The thought made her angry. “And I speak from experience as well.” Sora frowned darkly and wrinkled her nose at Rhylie.

“You are simply not being rational, child. When you’re old and brittle like I, you will understand how precious life truly is,” she said. Rhylie smirked at her.

“I may end up old one day, but my bones will never be brittle,” she said. “My bones are buried somewhere inside of a singularity.” Sora waved her hand dismissively.

“Semantics,” she said. “We only have one life to live, or one life to give, depending on how you look at it. After that, who knows. Nothing perhaps. Perhaps we’re born again to do it all over. I know a lot of things, but even I don’t know this. Why risk it? Why risk the lives of trillions and trillions of people when you could just enjoy the life that you have now?”

“Because I can’t enjoy it,” Rhylie said. “Not as long as Vorcia lives.” Sora narrowed her eyes and licked her bottom lip in a vain attempt to wet her mouth.