Horizon Storms - Kevin J. Anderson [228]
In the cockpit, Jhy Okiah turned to Cesca with a wry smile. “There’s something romantic about being an outlaw, don’t you think?” Her oddly timed humor was born of desperation.
Behind them, at the precise moment when the deadline ran out, Admiral Stromo transmitted on all frequencies, “No more sand left in the hourglass. Scouring crews, proceed with full-scale intelligence-gathering operations. Demolitions crews, wait for my signal.”
In less than an hour, the Eddy ships had rounded up groups of fleeing or surrendering Roamers, while the ransacking investigators and demolitions crews had determined that there was nothing of value left in the asteroid cluster. Admiral Stromo had clear orders about what he was supposed to accomplish, and he seemed to take great pleasure in utterly shocking all of his Roamer prisoners of war as well as the clan members who had managed to escape yet remained within viewing range.
“By the authority of the Chairman of the Terran Hanseatic League and the King, I hereby order the destruction of this facility.” Then in a lower voice, as if grumbling to himself, he said, “What a rat’s nest!”
In a sudden, coordinated action, chained explosives implanted by the demolitions crews detonated and blasted apart key junctures. From high above, the Mantas bombarded the asteroid cluster with a dazzling display of jazers and high-energy kinetic projectiles. The beams and explosives targeted the connective structures that held the drifting rocks together.
Cesca watched as the battleships pounded Rendezvous. Beside her, Jhy Okiah squeezed her eyes shut until tears trickled out, traveling the random paths of wrinkles on her face. The onslaught broke apart the asteroids and scattered the facilities, homes, storehouses, training centers…everything that had been important to Roamer culture and history.
Around them, the escaping clan ships flew in widely dispersed trajectories, spreading out to find any sanctuary in the vastness of the Spiral Arm. The Roamers knew hundreds of different hidden settlements, bases, facilities. They would fly to safe places, and eventually they would come together again.
Warm tears streamed down Cesca’s cheeks as well. She blamed herself for underestimating the ruthlessness of Chairman Wenceslas. How had he found Rendezvous in the first place? As if any Roamer needed more reasons not to trust the Big Goose…
“Let’s get the hell out of here, Cesca,” Jhy Okiah said, her voice hoarse.
Cesca nodded, not trusting her own voice yet. She programmed a course into the navigational computer and launched their ship far from the rubble that had been Rendezvous. “We’ll survive. When the sky is dark, our Guiding Stars shine brightest.”
The Roamers flew off, scattering to the four corners of the Galaxy.
Chapter 117 — MAGE-IMPERATOR JORA’H
The new spate of hydrogue attacks and the Hyrillka Designate’s open rebellion needed to be addressed without delay. Not even the Mage-Imperator could respond to everything at once. Most of all, he reeled from the assassination of Pery’h, and the nearly simultaneous attempt on his own life.
Through his frayed thism, Jora’h detected another emergency brewing on Maratha, but too few people were there for him to get a clear sense of what was happening, and his connection to his brother Avi’h had never been strong.
Yazra’h stood at his side, grimmer and more determined than ever before. Jora’h believed in her completely now after seeing how single-mindedly she had defended him, without thought for her own life. Where the Hyrillkan attacker had slashed her arm, the finest medical kithmen had tended her wound and covered it with a photoactive healing plaster. Her Isix cats sat with shining, slitted eyes, as if eager for another taste of a traitor’s blood.
Now Adar Zan’nh and his repaired warliners raced back to Ildira bearing the survivors