| Home | The Uprising: Mated Hearts | Events | About Tracy J Farrell |
THE UPRISING: MATED HEARTS
ISBN: 978-0-9828200-8-7
Coming Soon!
The Blessed One...
Liandra never asked to be a leader. Unfortunately, the Mother and Father of All have plans for her--plans that include uniting Liandra with two very different men
who will help her defeat the Destroyer.
The Hunter...
Everything changes for Starke the day he feels the other half of his soul.
When Liandra is kidnapped, nothing will stop the hardheaded warrior from freeing her,
even if it means war.
The Dark One...
Terral has lived as the Dark One for more than four decades, but a vision calls him to a new path.
Determined to right the wrongs of his past, Terral raises an army to bring down the Destroyer--
an army dedicated to serving one woman.
Liandra.
An Excerpt from THE UPRISING: MATED HEARTS
Chapter One
Starke strode into Azrath's office. "Are you planning on releasing this information?"
"If I was, would I have sent it to you on a secure data pad?" Azrath stood behind a waist high table, the room dark save for the flickering glow given off by the small bowl before him. Starke could tell he had an event caught in the scrying vessel by the way light and shadow played over his mentor's face, revealing then hiding his long white hair and the deep creases age had set into his skin.
The simmering anger dimmed. Starke wasn't annoyed by his former teacher's actions. No, rather it was the constant need to clean up after his former trainee now brother-in-law, Herzl, that brought the fury swirling along the edges of his control. "It was my understanding that when Herzl completed his training in the Randali system with me you assigned him to a non-combat position. What was he doing escorting an Andalian politician under war conditions?"
Azrath's gaze connected with him a moment before returning to the scene in the bowl. "I had no choice. Herzl is the strongest time/space portaler we have. I would have sent another with him to take over once he got them on planet but we're shorthanded. With the treaty negotiations near complete our best Dar Balik Hunters are serving high risk ambassadors or are tied up as you were with the Randali."
Starke wondered if Azrath had captured a true vision of where Herzl was. Sect brothers were familiar with one another's spell signature, so finding Herzl should be an easy connection, but that wasn't the question he asked. "Any Iliani youth should be able to time/space portal from one planet to another, why would one of our Sect need aid?"
Azrath's blue gaze slid away from the bowl and up to Starke's face. The skin at the corners of his eyes wrinkled as he smiled. "Forgive an old man's memory. I forget that you are unfamiliar with the planet Andalia's peculiar properties."
Starke doubted his mentor had forgotten anything. "I know more about the social structure than the planet's make up. They've rich cavrite deposits but their isolation makes them difficult to get to. They've been a minor player until recently. Figured I'd have more time now that I'm officially retired to see if Liandra can pull off the Coalition she's forming."
Azrath made a dismissive gesture, when Starke mentioned his departure from active duty. Starke's stomach sank. It had taken decades of maneuvering to get him and his sister back home and settled. Just getting her and Herzl reassigned to their home world, Iliani Prime, had cost him ten more years of service, all of it in the Randali system. Not that he regretted his choice. Keeping his sister safe and alive was worth it.
Now thanks to Herzl he was back in the game. Why couldn't he have just stayed home where he belonged?
Starke tucked away his frustration and focused on Azrath's words. "You know how cavrite interferes with magic and pulse based technology. They have none of the sentient nanite colonies that cluster around the energy deposits."
Interesting, Starke thought, cavrite was vital to the non-portaling races' ability to space travel, but without the micro metallic life forms protection the same properties that make hyperspace travel possible tore apart the ships. Andalia was the first world he'd heard of to not have the small creatures.
"Herzl and this ambassador, Liandra have been missing for weeks. Why didn't you contact me sooner?"
"I'd hoped with the increased Disciple activity on planet that they'd gone to ground. Our informants have been waiting for them to surface. I contacted you as soon as I was positive their capture was real and not something Liandra did on purpose."
Starke rubbed the back of his neck. He felt like his brain was too big for his skull. A headache was working its way from the back of his head to the front. "Goddess save me from politicians and their ideas. What possible reason would Liandra have for wanting to be taken?"
A small smile teased the corners of Azrath's lips. Starke was surprised by the fond almost proud expression on the other man's face and tone of his voice. "You'll find that Liandra is not like the usual pampered royals and government types you work with. The Andalians are a warrior people. I am sure she had good reason to be so near the Disciple stronghold."
"You know her? I thought Andalians didn't travel off world. Has the Iliani stance on the Coalition changed? Are we to be more than advisors?"
Azrath waved Starke's questions off with a small brushing motion of his right hand. The Iliani hand language was subtle in its movements but the meaning shouted clear. Starke's questions would go unanswered. "Will you go?"
Starke had no choice; Sect and family honor were sacrosanct in Iliani society. Herzl's failure would reflect not just on him but on all Dar Balik Hunters. As his nearest kin Starke's responsibility was to restore their honor. Which was why Starke had come straight to his mentor's study after landing on Iliani Prime. Duty was also the reason Azrath had sent him the missive. They were both Dar Balik Hunters, and Sect brothers protected each other.
Starke strode across the room and flung himself into one of the two high backed chairs set along the far wall. "I'll go. I'll need all the information you can get me."
As the head of all the Iliani Sects, Azrath's duty was to their people and the new alliance not to amend Herzl's mess up.
Times like this Starke wished he could kill Herzl and be done with it. No that wasn't the truth. Starke didn't hate his brother-in-law. Herzl was a good man, kind, honest, the type of man who'd be a good father and husband, and the best time/space portaler he'd ever encountered. Problem was his tactical skills were horrid. If there was a way to misjudge a situation he did it. Fortunately for him he could fight.
"Why don't you come here and look at this?" Azrath's face was grim.
A small light globe formed and floated up from Starke's hand. It shed scant illumination on the dim area above the scrying bowl. A black image filled the bowl, drawing Starke's gaze. The image cleared, a round chamber took shape with bright white light centered over a naked figure. Slender pulsing filaments attached along her spinal column and connected to what he assumed was the main unit hidden overhead. The line had enough slack in it to allow her to rest on the circular pad set into the floor.
Starke hunched closer to the image, not sure what drew him. He could feel his hunter senses kicking in, as his eyes dilated and his breathing grew shallow. A gruff half whisper left his lips. "That's Liandra."
His breath sent ripples through the viscous silver fluid, distorting the small figure. Azrath touched two fingers to his arm. Starke shifted back, and the image settled.
"Yes."
He studied the crumpled form. So this was Liandra Cho Hi of Andalia, the reason that he'd spent the last six months helping assemble and coordinate the Randali fleet. More used to trading information and technologies, the Randali had no grasp of the concept of discipline and cooperation. Starke had been too busy trying to reeducate their leaders to look up any information on her. As far as he'd been concerned, she was just another useless politician, even if she'd managed to do what no one else had accomplished.
Now seeing Liandra's tiny, fragile looking body, Starke found it hard to believe that she'd been the one to unite the scattered races and bring them into the Coalition. Even more difficult to fathom, if the reports read true, Liandra had been able to give the Coalition the teeth it needed to break the Destroyer and his Disciple's strong hold on the galaxy.
A shiver of revulsion pebbled along Starke's skin at the thought of the eighteenth century human industrialist Fredrick Jonas Windham III. Windham was an abomination to the order of the universe, one that should have been put down long ago. How humanity had allowed itself to be taken in and warped by him, Starke couldn't comprehend. But they had, following a path of consumerism and consumption without care.
And now five thousand years later the majority of humans had become as twisted in mind and spirit as their leader, now known as the Destroyer.
As if she could sense them spying on her, she turned, drawing Stark's thoughts back. The gentle pulse of the pain inducers became solid, and her body arched from the too sudden movement and the punishment that followed. Her magnificent face distorted in agony.
"The inducers cause too much nerve damage. She won't survive, not after weeks." Starke's frustration and rage bled out of his pores. The air stank of bad yeast and stale bread.
His goddess damned brother-in-law had taken it to a new level this time. Starke had been against his sister's union with the tenth level Dar Balik Hunter, but that hadn't mattered much. The same laws that ruled Iliani society and kept order among the clans demanded that once a mate match was discovered a marriage had to be made. While he didn't always like them, Starke believed in the necessity of the strict laws that governed Iliani society.
"But as honor demands, I'll retrieve Liandra's body and return it to her kin." Starke glanced at Azrath. The older man's face was neutral. "Can you hold the report until I bring her home?"
"Liandra will live if you get to her fast enough."
As a fifteenth level Dar Balik Hunter, a warrior of the Iliani people, Starke's senses were keen enough to pick up the subtlest clues. His mentor was tense, more so than the situation warranted.
"There's more to this than just a captured diplomat, isn't there?"
"You are correct. Liandra is not just a politician. Do you know who and what the Juntagalon is?" Azrath shifted, and an expression Starke couldn't read passed over his face.
"Some type of honorary title that translates into blessed one. From what I gleaned, the Andalians don't have elected or hereditary leaders. Each time one is needed, the best person for the position acts as the representative for that situation. She's their representative in the Coalition."
"Yes and no. As far as military, diplomatic and day to day governing you are correct. I can't explain it all--it's not my place--but she is the leader of both her people, and if my guess is correct, soon to be elected as the new head of the Coalition."
Azrath's words surprised Starke. He accepted his mentor's statement about not being able to explain it. Such was the way when you played politics. Starke hated the game but he was good at it.
"That's quite a turnaround from the normal Andalian isolationist view. I know they've had to make some changes since Drakar set up shop on Andalia and that they've been in near constant battle with him and the rest of the Destroyer's troops on planet. But I hadn't been aware things had altered their society that much."
That he was out of date didn't surprise him. Starke had been working at what felt like a flat out run since his induction as a Dar Balik Hunter.
Azrath ran a finger through the silvery liquid in the scrying bowl. The image dissolved and Starke wished his teacher hadn't done that. He wanted to watch her more. He shook his head, disturbed by the odd thought.
His mentor half turned toward him. "I expect lots of races have had to make adjustments to their beliefs, with the Destroyer stepping up his efforts to take control of all known sectors of the universe. Your decades working with the Randali and Tagian must have shown you that."
"Quite the contrary in fact. The Randali are as out for themselves as ever." Starke laughed. "I find it hard to believe that a race as planet bound as the Andalians would be more flexible than the Randali or Tagians."
"Liandra is different. Since becoming the Juntagalon, she and her brothers have built three additional trading ports. She's encouraged the prisoners her warriors managed to liberate to stay on planet and set up shop in the new ports, each with their own democratically elected officials. They've even allowed some limited mining of carite. Her initiatives gave her people tremendous leverage when she began to form the Coalition. Andalia is fast becoming a force to be reckoned with."
Starke was impressed by the changes she'd made in such a short amount of time and he said as much. His society wasn't as flexible. Cold and harsh, the ice planet that was Iliani Prime had shaped its people both physically and mentally. They needed to be able to rely on each other to survive in their brutal environment, and if anything, the strict rules and codes of conduct that dictated their behavior had become more binding, not less, since they'd begun to travel the universe.
Starke sighed. This new information made Herzl's botched mission all the worse. "Where is she?"
"She's in Drakar's dungeon."
"The one situated over the largest cavrite deposit in the known universe?"
"That's the one." Azrath handed Starke a data disk. "This has all the information you need. Bring your stav sword."
"Always do." Starke took the disk and left, wondering how in the hells he was going to get in. He wasn't concerned with getting past the guards and through the keep. He was a trained warrior of his people. No, what concerned him most was if he'd be able to portal in at all.
Cavrite didn't just shield ships engines and make space travel possible. Its unusual properties messed with anything pulse energy based and did strange things to the time/space portals his people used instead of space ships.
###
Azrath crossed the room and sat in one of the emerald velvet covered chairs. He pondered the strain Starke's near constant missions had placed on the warrior. It showed in the slope of the younger man's shoulders and the new lines of exhaustion around his eyes and mouth.
He liked his old student, admired Starke's strength and sense of honor, and had been pleased that he reacted to Herzl's failure as predicted.
Azrath's long laid plan was coming to fruition. A fluttering caught his attention. Enyat, his familiar, a large bird of prey, settled on the perch by the open window. Azrath noted his feathers were changing from white to brown with the coming spring.
Enyat's thoughts intruded. "Did you doubt he was the one?"
Azrath allowed his thoughts to skim into his familiar's mind. "I suspect everything. But watching Starke's reaction has satisfied my doubts. He'll do what we need him too."
Enyat cocked his head and dipped his beak up and down in a bird's equivalent of a nod.