Destiny's Blood Marie Bilodeau (best self help books to read .txt) 📖

be there now, warmed by her sun, laughing with his wife and children on the great sandy shores of Glass Lake. To be warm again.

“Captain,” Loran’s voice was a welcome distraction. “We’re being contacted. Channel 000.” Gobran sucked in his breath. Channel 000 was the capital’s military frequency. For the first time in almost twenty years, he would be in contact with Mirial.

He took a deep breath and held out his chest just a bit. Not caring that they could not see him, he straightened his jacket.

“Open a channel,” he replied, and Loran nodded. He felt a collective breath being held by all the crew members — the older ones who were still haunted by memories of Mirial, and the younger ones who were spurred on by their hopes and their longing for a true home.

“This is Captain Gobran Kipso of the Victory.” His voice was clear, strong, and proud. He flushed. “We are approaching the planet, E.T.A. 47 minutes.” He hesitated, and decided not to mention the heir. There would be time for that yet. “Request permission to land at the capital.”

The pause on the other end lingered just a bit too long. Gobran’s heart skipped a few beats, and then gained a few more as the answer came. “This is Alecya Kipso,” the voice rang high with laughter and relief. “Welcome home, Father.”

Gobran laughed until his sides hurt and his eyes filled with years of unshed tears.

i

“You might want to straighten us out,” Avienne said from her seat, leaning back as she closed and opened her left fist, testing her returning strength. Zortan grunted and the shuttle jostled in the general direction of the Victory’s bay. “I meant straighten us towards the bay,” Avienne clarified.

“This is not my area of expertise,” Zortan said through clenched teeth, his tall, strong frame awkward in the small shuttle.

“I would have never guessed,” Avienne said, pleased her words were no longer slurred. “Let me have a try at her.” She pushed herself up, feeling a bit dizzy but stronger by the minute.

“Are you sure you can handle her?” Zortan asked. She grasped the controls before her and switched main flight to her console.

“No.” She shot him a grin. “But I am sure that we’ll wind up with our noses flat against the Victory if you try.”

The controls jostled in her hands, and it felt good to hold them steady and urge the shuttle towards the Victory’s open mouth. The numbness still cast a thin veil between her and reality, but she suspected it no longer had much to do with the drugs.

Victory was an impressive ship, a model Avienne guessed was just a bit younger than the Destiny. Her hull was smaller and sleeker, but less care had been taken with her design. Gun towers were pulling back into the hull as they approached, so the more delicate equipment would not detach during atmospheric entry.

Her viewing ports were sparse, but they were all lit, meaning this ship was still at full power. She guessed they had stashed her away and maintained her upkeep — unlike the Destiny, which had flown steadily and without pause.

“She’s a beauty,” Avienne said as they entered the shuttle bay, unlocked the wheels and gently landed.

“She was actually considered quite ugly when she was built,” Zortan voiced as the bay pressurized around them. Avienne urged the shuttle forward on its wheels. When it came to a stop, they waited for the doors to open. “But, then again, she was sister to a much greater ship.”

Avienne gave him a slight grin. “She was a great ship, wasn’t she?”

Zortan smiled, his features softening. Avienne suddenly wondered if perhaps he was a father. Another mystery with no answer. “She was the best.”

The doors opened before them and several of the Victory’s crew lingered about, weapons strapped to their belts.

“The captain will expect me on the bridge,” Zortan said. “We have…unfinished business. You might be safer here.”

Avienne opened the door of the shuttle and hopped out before Zortan, pleased to find the ground fairly stable. She turned back to face him as he exited, sword in hand. “No way I’m staying out of this one.”

Zortan studied her for a moment and simply nodded, strapping the great sword to his back above the cloak he seemed to favour over a coat. He didn’t seem to mind the tensing of the crew around them as he carefully secured his weapon. Avienne suspected he enjoyed it.

“This should be fun,” she mumbled as she followed his long strides towards the functional elevator, escorted by two nervous crewmembers.

She swore she heard Zortan respond, “Quite.”

i

Flames erupted around them, the blast hurtling the shuttle off the pad seconds before Ardin had fully landed. The shuttle shook in response to the Destiny’s final screams.

Cailan! No time. Ardin knew he couldn’t save the captain and he swallowed hard.

“Hang on!” The shuttle complained as he urged her forward. The bay door was already closed and Destiny’s metal was collapsing on itself as the fire sucked out the ship’s remaining oxygen. He pushed on the controls and hurtled forward, toward the second exit, when a second explosion rocked the ship. This time the Destiny moaned so deeply it resonated in his chest.

The ship buckled sideways and the shuttle’s top scraped Destiny’s hull. Metal separated all around her but no sparks flew; the oxygen had already been eaten by the first fiery explosion.

Behind Ardin, Josmere’s moans echoed Destiny’s and Layela reached back from her seat to grab her friend’s hand.

Ardin slowed the shuttle, trying to mimic the movements of the ship, but still they were knocked around. The Berganda’s moans ended.

“She’s just knocked out,” Layela whispered, as though trying to convince herself. Ardin cast her a quick look, and saw features pale and drawn but determined. She didn’t intend to die here and, quite frankly, neither did he.

He brought the shuttle to the last bay, long ago closed and without oxygen or power. The Destiny had been badly wounded during her last battle and her starboard engine had