Adrik (Titans #1)

Chapter 19

Ember crept along the bright corridor of the ship. Tyrate had indicated she was going in the right direction. The AI was supposedly leading her to Adrik, but she was trepidatious. The long halls were made of a gleaming type of steel. The ceilings, the floors, and the walls were all uniform and sterile. Thin lighting strips ran along the ceilings where they met the tops of the walls. There were no visible cameras or anything else. Just plain steel. The ship was cold and intimidating.

“Why,” the word came out as a whisper, so she cleared her throat and spoke more clearly. “Tyrate, why was I released from my cell?” She wasn’t sure if Tyrate would respond.

“Chief Commander Adrik ordered your release. His motives are unknown.”

She was shocked at how freely Tyrate answered her questions, so she pushed on. “Where are my sisters?”

“You are not a genetic relation to any being on this vessel.”

“The other women,” she clarified as she continued her cautious advance. “Where are the other women I was rescued with?”

“Kyan is in the Med Bay. Vashti is on this Level in Kaze’s quarters. Nova is on Level Dread.”

That had Ember slamming to a halt as her belly dropped. “Level Dread?”

“Yes.Level Dread.”

“What’s on Level Dread?”

“Level Dread houses the equipment bay, power subsystems, the docking bay, and Titan Pitch’s personal quarters.”

“Titan Pitch? Who is Titan Pitch? Can you tell me about him?”

“Negative.”

“Is Nova okay? Is she safe?”

“She is sequestered in Pitch’s personal quarters. Pitch is on guard outside. She is safe.”

“Wh-why is it called Level Dread?”

“It was previously known as Level Bay, but when Pitch joined the crew and stationed his quarters there, the name was changed to Level Dread.”

“Why?”

Silence reigned before Tyrate offered, “Perhaps because Pitch is feared by many.”

Now Ember got it because dread filled her with each second she thought of young Nova trapped on the lower levels with this fearsome Titan named Pitch.

Quickening her pace, Ember finally reached the lift Tyrate had been guiding her to. When the doors whooshed open, and she stepped inside, she changed her directive to Tyrate.

“Take me to Level Dread.”

“Sorry, Level Dread is off…” Tyrate made a weird buzzing noise as he cut himself off before beginning again. “Level Dread confirmed.”

As the lift dropped, so did Ember’s belly. This felt like a bad idea, but there was no way she was leaving young Nova in peril.

It felt like just a blink before the lift stilled and the doors swooshed open. Ember stepped out of the lift and stilled.

“Wow!” she muttered quietly. “This is unnecessarily creepy.”

Unlike the other floors she’d been on, where the lights were so bright they were almost glaring, Level Dread was dark. Well, almost dark. There was one lone light somewhere down the long dark corridor that was blinking haphazardly. Swallowing hard, she took one tentative step and called, “H-Hello?”

The darkness swallowed her greeting, making even that one word feel intrusive. Part of her wanted to turn around and take the lift back up to seek out Adrik and demand he bring her back to Level Dread to search for Nova, but that wasn’t fair to Nova. If Ember was this afraid, she could only imagine what Nova was going through.

Shoulders jerking back and chin lifting, Ember stalked determinedly forward, silently praying she didn’t die.

***

Adrik struggled to keep from pacing. He was both eager and anxious to see Ember. It annoyed him. He’d never been eager and anxious simultaneously, and the combined emotions were unpleasant. Glancing at the door again, he felt his gut twist with disappointment at not finding Ember there. Anger flared as he struggled with the newly acquired plethora of emotions that had been inundating him since the women had arrived. No, not the women. Ember. She was the sole cause of his sudden inner turmoil. And it was turmoil. He rather enjoyed being unemotional. To him, it was rational. Emotion rarely aligned with any positive outcome. Obaida was a testament to that. The Medicus often became emotionally attached to his patients, and it had ended badly for the caring Medicus on too many occasions. Even now, Obaida’s current attachment to Kyan was typical Obada behavior and hadn’t gone unnoticed. But what wasn’t typical was Kaze being uncharacteristically emotional where the dragoness, Vashti, was concerned.

With a frown marring his brow, Adrik had to remind himself to remain objective regarding the females. If his Titans were going to lose their heads with the females aboard, then it was on him to remain steadfast.

Glancing at the door again, Adrik straightened and forced himself to remain indifferent. It lasted a mere nano fract before he barked, “Tyrate! Where is Ember?”

“Ember is on Level Dread.”

The words had both Adrik’s hearts stuttering to a halt. His stomach dropped so rapidly that it felt like the ship disappeared from beneath him. Ears flooded with white noise, it took him a moment to register what Tyrate relayed before he could properly process the intel and then get his body to listen to his mind’s commands.

Barreling out of Command, Adrik raced down the corridor, roaring, “I blocked Level Dread from her access!” When Tyrate didn’t respond, he raged, “Tyrate! Why is Ember on Level Dread? You were to prevent this!”

“She inquired about the other females. Her vitals spiked on hearing of Nova’s location. The data indicates she was in fear for the youngest of the females.”

That shouldn’t matter.

A massive roar escaped Adrik as he slid to a halt in front of the lift, his claws catching and creasing the steel entryway as he caught the frame and hauled himself through the lift doors.

“You went against your Commander’s directive because of Ember’s emotions?” He snarled as he began pacing furiously.

“Negative, Commander. There is no record of you barring Ember from Level Dread.”

Tyrate’s admission had Adrik stilling, his belly dropping again. “What? Do you not recall my directive after I released her from her cell?”

Tyrate remained quiet.

“Tyrate,” Adrik barked. “Connect me to Pitch’s comms and then shut down for a full self-diagnostic.”

Tyrate’s response was immediate. “Per his typical protocol, Pitch’s comms are disengaged.”

Impatience and agitation had Adrik pacing the small confines of the lift again as it descended the ship. His mind was racing. Was Tyrate defective? Or worse, breached? Adrik snarled, then roared, “Tyrate, connect me to Level Dread comms!”

“Connecting to…” Tyrate paused and then quipped, “Oddly, Level Dreads comms have also been disengaged.”

Another roar was ripped from Adrik as he turned and punched the back wall of the lift, denting the steel panel. Before he could formulate a plan to contact Pitch, the lift doors swiftly parted. Adrik spun and then tensed at the sight that met him. Down the dim corridor lit by the one remaining light source that Pitch hadn’t ripped from the wall, stood Pitch. He was towering over where he had Ember pressed up against the wall, his hand circling her throat as she stared up at him with an angry expression marring her delicate features, her small hands clawing at Pitch’s arm.