Chapter 7: Someone Wants a Word

The troops were gentle enough, even polite, until they reached the shuttle pad.

Etzli knew she was in for a real hellride the moment she clapped eyes on the cutting-edge fast transport looming over the rock-hoppers, like a raptor amongst prey.

She recognized the sleek lines, the chrome hull, the oversized double-barrel engines. It was the latest military wonder in His Majesty's Royal Navy. A Silver Bullet.

At short range, the Silver Bullet could outrun anything. It was the single best way to make a high-priority delivery without fear of interception by enemies, pirates, and the like. Wherever they were taking Etzli, they were gonna get there fast.

As Etzli gaped at the ship, the troops grabbed her by the arms. They shackled her wrists behind her.

"Hey!" she shouted. "What are--"

They zip-tied a gag over her mouth. She thrashed. They held on tight as they frog-walked her up the ramp and into the Silver Bullet.

Etzli stumbled while being shoved along the ship's shining interior. Two rows of empty seats lined the cabin. It looked like the ship could comfortably hold 40 people, but Etzli was going to be the only passenger today.

She was brought before a cold-eyed man in ornate armor the color of freshly spilled blood. She recognized the tilted castle logo engraved in his chest plate. He was a member of the King's elite Royal Guard.

What the hell was a Royal Guard doing way out here in the galactic boondocks?

Glaring at Etzli with teeth-gnashing hostility, the Royal Guard said, "Here's what's gonna happen. We're gonna strap you down to a chair and get you where you're going. And you're gonna sit quietly while we do it."

Struggling against her captors, Etzli made choked vowel noises against her gag.

The Royal Guard shook his head as if he understood her perfectly. "The gag stays on. Don't want you singing any nasty little songs, do we?"

Etzli frowned, not sure what he meant by that.

"If you're quiet and well-behaved, then this trip will go by in a flash," said the Royal Guard. "But if you give me or my men any trouble, then I've been given permission to anesthetize you for the trip. Problem is, we don't have a doctor aboard. So if it comes to that, we're gonna have to get creative with what we’ve got."

The Royal Guard held up a truncheon. It looked like an antique design, no high-tech components. Just a dense dark wood called Lignum Vitae, which Etzli knew because it grew all over Pake, and bloomed with the most beautiful blue flowers. Tough wood. Heavy. Perfect for busting heads.

Staring at the truncheon, Etzli noted some unknown artisan had decorated the fluted handle with His Majesty's coat of arms, which seemed like an unnecessarily tyrannical flex from a supposedly kind and gentle monarch.

"Do we understand each other?" the Royal Guard asked.

Champing down on her gag, Etzli helplessly drooled down her front. She felt like a wild beast brought low. Staring down at her boots, she nodded.

"Good," said the Royal Guard. "Now, do you want a window seat?"

Etzli nodded again.

Surprisingly, the troops complied with her wishes. They plopped her down by one of the windows over the starboard wing. They chained her wrists to the arm rests.

A ceiling vent blew too much cold air at Etzli's face, making her eyes water, but she didn't bother trying to complain about it. She just closed her eyes. After all, what was she, if not a deadly creature destined to be chained up and caged until it was too old and weak to pose a threat?

When the troops came, she knew right away why they'd taken her. It was the trial. Had to be.

Paras died horribly at the claws of Etzli's unleashed evil, and the Temple Elders had turned over all the evidence to the local military outpost.

Benja tried to warn her, but she'd been so certain she could control it. If her intentions were pure, then Etzli could become one of the heroic Outrangers. She could change her fate. She planned to use her monstrous nature for good, protecting the innocent. That had to count for something, right?

The Silver Bullet roared up into the sky and out of Pake's atmosphere.

Etzli peered out the window. Countless stars were scattered across an infinite night by an uncaring creator. At least she didn't have to stare into the nightmarish face of Ithilia, which lay somewhere behind.

One thing still nagged at her. Why would a Royal Guard want to bring her in? Didn't he have more important duties, like protecting the King, defending the Realm, all that stuff?

Etzli pressed her cheek to the window, straining to see where they were going.

The stormy moon of Krysta lay ahead. But the approach felt too fast, too shallow. They were going to scream right past Krysta, not land on it.

Ithilia's raging light glinted off something just beyond the moon: a cluster of tactical spires like a small city, communications blades jutting out from the prow, banks of massive cannons.

A battleship.

A ship that size was capable of folding space, traveling immense distances in the fraction of a moment.

Etzli realized with horror they were leaving the solar system.

She'd never been out of the system before. Her whole life was spent on Pake, an insignificant forest moon with cottages and villages, and winter dances, and spring fetes, and a farmer's market every weekend.

Growing up, she'd thrilled to the idea of heading out into the greater galaxy as a newly minted Outranger. But now, she was being dragged away from everything she knew in chains.

Etzli assumed they were headed for the nearest penal colony. And, if that was the case, this felt like the perfect time to start freaking out--really get some good screaming in before they dumped her off forever.

Gasping breaths, she looked around the cabin, wild-eyed. She locked eyes with the Royal Guard.

Once again, he seemed to read her thoughts perfectly. Or, she began to understand, he'd escorted so many prisoners, he'd heard it all before.

"No," he said. "Not a penal colony. Not a prison. Not even a work camp. Not yet, anyway. Someone wants a word with you. Someone high up. We're taking you to the Royal Homeworld."

Etzli gasped. The Royal Homeworld. The Galactic Throne. The beating heart of the Kingdom. There was no more important place in all the galaxy.

With equal parts fear and amazement, she thought, "I've always wanted to go there."