Shadows Bear No Names (The Blackened Prophecy Book 1) by Oganalp Canatan Page B

against our competitors.”
    Evans noticed a change in the old man’s voice. Eberhardt clearly saw the gate as a prize worth risking for, if it meant overwhelming others over sector dominance. “But what makes you think the fate of that ship was an isolated incident? What if an event like the Titan discovery is unavoidable?”
    “We are taking the necessary precautions,” Vice President Otto answered, “The First Banner is being repositioned near the gate as we speak.”
    “Admiral Rebecca Conway?” Evans asked.
    “One of our best tacticians,” Vice President Otto nodded.
    “Let us see for ourselves,” Eberhardt added and reached for a button on the left-hand side of the table. A holographic screen appeared before him, showing the face of his secretary. “Darling, please be kind and patch me to the First Banner actual.”
    “Yes, Mr. Eberhardt.”
    A few seconds later, a woman with a graying black hair and a stern look was on display. “Conway.”
    “Rebecca, good to hear your voice,” Eberhardt gave a sly smile. “How is everything?”
    “Thank you, sir. We will be in position, near the coordinates the Novosibirsk broadcasted within five hours. All ships are battle ready. The reserve dreadnoughts have been pulled from Mars. They will be here in five days. We will be watching the artifact.”
    “Good. You have full authority to handle things as you see fit. Keep me informed. Eberhardt out.” The chairman of the Consortium leaned back and smiled. “I believe two dozen dreadnoughts and a flagship will be more than enough to handle anything we may bump into, Evans.”
    Evans saw everything was already in motion. This discussion was simply to decide whether he would come down peacefully or by force. His shoulders dropped. “I will do as you ask.”
    Eberhardt smiled and lit a Henian cigar, puffing the dense, aromatic smoke into the balding man’s face. “Of course you will, Evans. Of course you will.”

Chapter SEVEN
    AT THE END OF THE LIGHT
    Ray opened his eyes. It took him a moment to focus. He looked around but couldn’t remember the place, wherever this place was. He tried to move his body but it didn’t and he gave up the idea. Instead, he observed his surroundings.
    He was lying on a camp bed under a blanket, inside a tent. His mind searched for answers but he only remembered flashing images that didn’t make any sense and none of them had anything to do with a tent. He gently removed the blanket and felt the chill on his naked skin. Ray groaned and could only raise himself a few centimeters. He saw his chest had been carefully wrapped in clean bandages
    He didn’t remember where he’d gotten injured, or how bad it was, but when his hand touched his groin a sharp pain stopped his search for answers. The moist sense of soaked textile turned into faint red marks on his fingers.
    After a few agonizing attempts, he turned his head to the left. There wasn’t much going on. Another small bed stood opposite. A tiny portable table stood beside his bedside with a water flask and a glass, near a pot with a sharp smell, possibly herbal in origin.
    He recognized the clothes on the stool by the tent’s exit. His worn-out shirt and pants were covered in brown. Blood , Ray guessed but couldn’t remember how it had gotten there.
    The effort tired him. Ray felt himself sweating under the sheet and closed his eyes. He saw Rahul, Halle and Alec lying dead on Canaar’s bridge. He felt the ashen taste of fire and smoke in his mouth and more flashes came into his mind, of his ship burning. The Canaar probably crashed.
    Perhaps whoever had patched his wounds knew how Ray had ended up here but his body wasn’t ready to face the reality yet. Ray was tired. He was very tired. His eyes closed and sleep overtook him.
    ***
    Ray opened his eyes slowly, again trying to adjust to the light in the tent. He had no idea how long he’d slept, but he felt a lot better. He turned his head slowly to the table, hoping to find