End Game

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Foreword

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  End Game

  (Fallen Empire, Book 8)

  by Lindsay Buroker

  Copyright © 2016 Lindsay Buroker

  Illustration Copyright © 2016 Tom Edwards

  TomEdwardsDesign.com

  Foreword

  This is the final novel in the Fallen Empire series, and I would like to thank you for sticking around and spending so much time with my characters. I hope you enjoy this last installment (it’s the longest of the books by quite a bit!). I do have some ideas for spinoff series, so look for more adventures in 2017, but in the meantime, please enjoy this last ride with Alisa, Leonidas, and the gang.

  Before you start in, please let me thank some more folks for sticking with me through all these books: my editor, Shelley Holloway, and my beta readers, Sarah Engelke, Rue Silver, Cindy Wilkinson, and Walt Scrivens. Also, my thanks to Tom Edwards for the cover design for all the novels in the series.

  Now, please jump into the story…

  Chapter 1

  The stars stretched across the view screen, bright, majestic, and beautiful. Neither Alisa nor Jelena were looking at them as they munched their dinners. Instead, they watched the holodisplay on Alisa’s netdisc, as Andromeda Android hurled evildoers out of her path while rescuing Delgottan cheetah kits from a mafia lord intent on skinning them for their luxurious furs.

  “I think I’ve been in those sewers,” Alisa said, pointing at the display. “These take place in Perun Central, don’t they? Andromeda better watch out. There are massive sewer cleaning automatons that can squish you if you’re not careful.”

  “Mom,” Jelena said, throwing her an aggrieved look. “I haven’t seen this one before.”

  “So I should be quiet?” Alisa popped one of Beck’s grilled zucchini slices into her mouth.

  “Dad says you’re not supposed to talk during vids. Especially when the hero is pulverizing the bad guys.”

  Dad.

  Alisa suddenly struggled to get the zucchini down. She had been enjoying her daughter’s presence in NavCom, even if Jelena was uninterested in hearing about her mother’s exploits, but having her mention Jonah filled her with sorrow. And guilt. She had not been thinking about her late husband often enough, especially these last couple of months. Even though she had been understandably busy, she wondered if forgetting to think about him was a betrayal. Had Alisa moved on too quickly? Had she fallen in love again too quickly? If Leonidas had not come into her life, she never would have gone looking for anyone else so soon. She still hadn’t figured out a way to explain her feelings about him to Jelena. Of course, it had been less than a week since she had been reunited with her daughter. Alisa’s body still ached from having all those rocks dropped on her, despite the painkillers she was on, and despite the nanobots that had swum around her system for days, repairing bones and tissue.

  “Dad was particularly aggrieved when you talked while he watched documentaries of the original colonists collecting plant samples and building survival huts,” Alisa added, trying to encourage the conversation. Even if it roused feelings of guilt within her, they should talk about Jonah. They both needed to.

  Jelena rolled her eyes. “I know. His vids were so boring. He watched that one all the time when you were gone.”

  While Alisa tried to decide if there was condemnation in that statement, an implication that she’d been gone far too long and Jelena had been forced to endure far too many documentaries, the end credits rolled on the cartoon. Jelena stood up, her mostly empty plate in hand.

  “I’m done. Can I go back with the Starseers?”

  Jelena still wore the black robe she had been wearing the day she arrived. Alisa vowed to shop for her as soon as they had a chance. She admonished herself for not having thought to do it ahead of time, though she worried Jelena might prefer that robe to normal children’s attire. Alisa had returned the jacket she’d found in Jelena’s room on Cleon Moon, but if her daughter ever wore it, it was under the robe.

  “Again?” Alisa asked, careful to keep any disapproval out of her voice, even if she couldn’t help but be hurt that Jelena was spending more time with the Starseer refugees than with the mother she hadn’t seen in a year. “I thought I could show you how to pilot the Nomad, now that we’re out of the asteroid belt.”

  Jelena wrinkled her nose toward the control panel. “I have to learn more things. Useful things. So I can help get Thorian back.”

  Alisa wanted to point out that being able to pilot a ship was useful, but she wiggled her fingers toward the hatchway. “Go ahead, but wash your plate on the way through the mess hall. Don’t just leave it on the table again.”

  That earned another nose wrinkle, but also an, “All right,” before Jelena sprinted out of NavCom.

  Alisa watched her go, the robe flapping around her ankles, her ponytail swaying on her back. She told herself not to feel rejected. This was what kids did. They fled their parents to do fun things. She just found it unnerving that Jelena’s “fun thing” was spending time with people in black robes with creepy mental powers.

  No, she had better not think like that, she told herself firmly as she turned to check the sensor station. Jelena was reading minds these days. Alisa did not want her to find anything but love and acceptance in her thoughts. Jelena wasn’t creepy. And neither were most of the Starseers. Just the ones who kidnapped children. And brewed beer.

  I heard that, Abelardus thought into her mind from wherever he was on the ship.

  Oh? Are you monitoring my thoughts constantly, or were you simply bored and needed entertainment?

  I saw your offspring sprinting through the corridors and thought I would check on you.

  Because you were worried about me or her?

  I worried you might be having lurid thoughts about your cyborg, and I was going to remind you that Jelena has developed rudimentary telepathy.

  I already figured that out, but thanks for the tip. Alisa did not comment on cyborgs or luridness. She had barely seen Leonidas since Alejandro had pronounced her well enough to return to work—and pilot the Nomad someplace where they could find a regeneration tank for the more seriously injured Ostberg, who was still in sickbay. Leonidas had been staying in his cabin, much as he had when Alisa first met him and he’d wanted nothing to do with her because he was a loyal imperial soldier and she wasn’t.

  She wondered what he would say if she visited him and asked if he wanted to watch a vid.

  Better knock first, Abelardus said. Your horny cyborg is making up for lost time.

  Are you watching?

  Trying not to, but he can be noisy when he’s thumping against the walls. My cabin is next to his, you know.

  Alisa grimaced, less at the comments and more at the thought that Leonidas was alone with his dreams and lust instead of with her. But with a telepathic daughter, Alisa didn’t feel comfortable engaging in a relationship with him, not until there had been more time to acquaint Jelena with the idea
of her mother having a love life with someone who wasn’t her father. Hells, Alisa would have been hesitant to have perfectly acceptable marital sex with Jonah now that Jelena could read minds. How awkward.

  Starseer children tend to learn about the birds and the bees at a young age, Abelardus informed her dryly.

  I bet. After confirming that there weren’t any ships within sensor range, Alisa reached for the comm. She wanted company, but not his. “Leonidas?”

  A moment passed without a response. Maybe he wasn’t in his cabin, after all.

  “Yes?” he replied.

  “There’s not much going on right now, so I can break away from NavCom. Do you want to do some sparring? I believe my armor has been in its case long enough to mostly repair itself.” The day before, she’d had Mica work on the dents too large for the case’s facilities to handle. She did not yet know how they would find Tymoteusz, asshole kidnapper of Prince Thorian—among other crimes—but she wanted to be ready when they did.

  Leonidas hesitated again before answering. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

  “You don’t? I thought you agreed that I needed practice in the armor.”

  “You do. I’ll program a few training scenarios into the hover pads, and you can practice on them.”

  Alisa scowled at the comm panel. She didn’t want to spend time with pads. She wanted to spend time with him. Even if they weren’t going to be lovers for a while, did that mean they couldn’t be together at all?

  “It’ll be easier that way,” he said quietly.

  “Are you thinking of Jelena?”

  Maybe he was worried about telepathic eight-year-olds too.

  “I’ll let you know when the routines are programmed in,” Leonidas said and closed the channel.

  Alisa scowled again, feeling lonely despite all the people on her ship right now. All of the cabins were being used—she had cleaned out her mother’s old cabin to loan to Admiral Tiang, and Jelena now, of course, occupied the one Alisa had reserved for her since the beginning—and the Starseers they had picked up on the station, along with the ones that had been aboard since Arkadius, were still camping out in the cargo hold.

  She grabbed her plate and headed to the mess hall, hoping she would find Beck or Mica or Yumi to chat with, and also hoping she wouldn’t find anyone unappealing, such as Alejandro or—even worse—Durant. She had caught Durant sitting in with Yumi’s sister and several other Starseer women, the children’s tutors. Durant was the last person Alisa wanted involved in Jelena’s education. She wasn’t even sure she approved of the other people—that Lady Westfall was definitely snooty. As Jelena’s mother, shouldn’t Alisa decide who could teach her daughter what? But she felt so out of her element when it came to Starseer things that she had no idea how to gauge the effectiveness of one tutor over another, and the Starseers had a tendency to stop talking whenever Alisa walked past. Either that, or they started exchanging looks in a way that made her believe they had switched to telepathy.

  “Evening, Captain,” Beck said when she walked into the mess hall.

  Alisa faltered one step in. There were boxes everywhere. She could barely see Beck.

  “Uhm, Beck?” she asked.

  “Just preparing an order, Captain. I tried to pack everything in the cargo hold, but the Starseer kids kept accidentally knocking my boxes over with their boisterous minds. I think it was accidental, but the mess hall seemed safer.”

  “Er, yes.” Alisa picked her way down an aisle between segmented boxes filled with bottles of a brownish red sauce. “For whom are you preparing an order?”

  For the last few weeks, they had been fleeing the Alliance, the empire, android treasure hunters, and rogue Starseers. When had he had the time to receive an order?

  “Chef Terra, a caterer out of Sherran Moon.” Beck turned and poked his head over a stack of boxes, his bleached blond hair swaying with the movement. It was in need of cutting and a reapplication of dye—his dark roots were showing. “You said we’re heading to Aldrin, right? To drop off Ostberg on one of the moons?”

  “Yes, it’s the closest planet to the asteroid belt that isn’t Alliance-controlled, and the moons offer several medical options, even if we avoid Cleon Moon, which I plan to do. Alejandro approved.”

  “Good. Might I suggest Sherran Moon?”

  “Because you have cargo to drop off there?”

  “It just so happens that I do. And they have medical facilities, if you don’t mind paying by the hour as well as the service. Isn’t that convenient?”

  “Terribly convenient. If Alejandro says Sherran Moon works, that’s fine with me.” While she was looking for a clear path to the sink for her dish, Alisa noticed a plate of sandwiches and cookies on the table. Jelena’s empty plate was also there, though Alisa couldn’t blame her much for not having maneuvered through the box maze to find the sink.

  “That’s for Admiral Tiang.” Beck nodded toward the sandwich plate while loading more bottles of sauce. How had he had time to make all those? And where had he been storing all these boxes and bottles? And the ingredients for filling them? “Do you want to deliver it to him, Captain?”

  “Deliver it? I don’t remember room service being mentioned on the Nomad’s passenger transport flier.”

  “I thought you promised Tiang a luxury experience when you were negotiating his fare.”

  “Even if I did, I’m fairly certain captains and pilots aren’t supposed to deliver food.”

  “I can do it, but I thought you might want a chance to spy on him.”

  Alisa flushed. Did the entire ship know that she had eavesdropping tendencies?

  “Have you been by his cabin lately?” Beck continued.

  “Not for a few days.” Alisa recalled that Tiang had been borrowing some of Alejandro’s medical equipment and setting up a lab of sorts. He hadn’t explained what he was working on.

  “You might want to.”

  “Do you know what he’s up to?”

  “No idea. But it’s involved.”

  “Hm.” Alisa picked up the plate of sandwiches. “Should there be any vegetables on here? I’m not sure sandwiches and cookies are a balanced meal for a brain surgeon.” Or anyone, she amended silently.

  “There are pickles on the sandwiches. That’s all he’ll eat. Trust me, I’ve tried more nutritious fare. Everyone wants sweets. Did you like the maple-cinnamon grilled sweet potato chips? They were wonderful, weren’t they?”

  “They were.” Alisa headed back to the passenger cabins with the plate. Even if her thoughts had been geared more toward Jelena these last few days—and how she could get rid of the majority of her passengers and return her life to normal—she was curious what Tiang was up to in his cabin. So, delivery it was.

  As she passed Leonidas’s hatch, she thought about knocking and dropping off a sandwich. Tiang was a skinny sixty-year-old man—did he truly need three sandwiches? But she wanted to respect Leonidas’s privacy. If he wanted company, he could come find her.

  “Yes?” came Tiang’s muffled voice when she knocked at the hatch.

  “Delivery,” Alisa said.

  The hatch opened, and steam—or was that smoke?—flowed out.

  Startled, Alisa stepped back. “Admiral?”

  Tiang appeared in the hatchway wearing a red suit and a helmet. He peered blearily at her through the faceplate, looked down at the plate, and after a glance back into the cabin, where a ventilation fan had just started to whir, he stepped into the corridor. He closed the hatch behind him.

  “Good evening, Captain.”

  “Is that one of the hazardous-material suits from sickbay?” she asked, gaping at him.

  “It is, yes.”

  “Are you wearing it for any particular reason?” Alisa eyed the closed hatch. He wasn’t doing something dangerous in there, was he? Something that might leak out and affect the rest of the ship?

  “It’s comfortable and stylish?”

  “If that was a question, I think the
answer is no.”

  “Ah.” Tiang reached for the plate. “Is that for me?”

  Alisa stepped back, taking it with her. “Yes, it is, and you can have it if you tell me what you’re doing in there.”

  “Research.”

  “Research that could endanger the entire ship?”

  “Hm, only those with Starseer blood most likely, and only if there’s a breach, which there shouldn’t be. I’m taking suitable precautions.”

  “Half the people on this ship have Starseer blood,” Alisa said. Including her. Even if it hadn’t manifested into any Starseer talents.

  “Yes, and I am taking precautions, as I said.” Tiang’s fingers twitched toward the sandwiches, or maybe toward the stack of cookies. “Captain, I’m quite famished. May I have that plate?”

  “Does Alejandro know what you’re up to in there?”

  “He does. We brainstormed this together a couple of weeks ago. After our first encounter with the rogue Starseers, which did not go overly well.”

  “You’re doing something that could help a future encounter go more well?” Alisa wished there wouldn’t be any more encounters, but she had promised Jelena and Leonidas that she would help them find Thorian. She never would have thought she’d see the day when she was risking herself and her ship to search for the only heir to the Sarellian Empire, an empire she absolutely did not want to see reestablish itself.

  “I hope that will be the end result, yes.”

  She waited to see if Tiang would elaborate. He did not. He merely gazed forlornly at the plate.

  Alisa sighed and handed it to him. “Carry on then. Just be careful. We don’t want anything contagious or hazardous escaping your cabin.” Especially not now that her daughter was on board.