The Street Survivors (The Guild Wars Book 12) by Ian Malone (great books of all time TXT) 📕

“What kind of assets?” Taylor asked.

“Information, mostly,” Akoya said. “The kind that informs where people go and when and by what route, if you catch my meaning.”

Taylor gave a slow nod. “You’re a gate master.”

“I was a gate master.” The Sumatozou raised a finger for emphasis. “Alas, that was many years ago in a life that, sadly, now feels like it may have belonged to someone else.”

“Can I ask what happened?”

“Of course you can,” the Sumatozou said. “Why else do you think I paid Captain Genovese the sum I did but to bring you here for this very conversation? It’s high time we got to know each another.”

Taylor glanced to the others, none of whom seemed to have a clue what the Sumatozou was talking about.

“Many years ago, I was what you might call a…” Akoya searched for the right words. “Rising star among the gate master community. After completing my initial training, I received my first assignment, overseeing operations for a backwater stargate near the Staxon system in the Cimarron arm. The entire facility was something of an obsolete mess, but my staff and I made it work. Five years later, I was rewarded for my efforts with a reassignment to the Mauvtok gate here in the Jesc arm. After that came stops in the Piquaw system, the Orthye cluster, and numerous others, until one day the Guild heads saw fit to honor me with one of the most prestigious posts in all the Union—the master post overseeing operations of the Sakall stargate in the Tolo arm.”

“Really?” Taylor feigned enthrallment, although something about the mention of Sakall struck him as odd. “That’s a high priority gig, all right. Your daddy must’ve been proud.”

“My sire was long deceased by this point,” Akoya said, clearly not getting the joke. “Immediately following my arrival at Sakall, I implemented the various policies and protocols that had proven so successful at my previous posts. The results were both instant and undeniable. By the conclusion of my first year in charge, the Sakall stargate was up 33 percent in gate fee profits alone, with more room for growth in year two.”

Taylor whistled. “That’s a lot of credits. I hope the Guild heads gave you a raise for all that.”

“They gave me more than that,” Akoya said. “It was around this time that I learned the Cartography Guild’s Latura Corps had taken an interest in my career.”

Taylor felt another tingle in his mind. Sakall. The Latura Corps. It all felt very familiar.

“The week prior to my second anniversary on Sakall, I was formally presented with an official offer to begin my latura training,” Akoya said. “As you well know, there is no higher calling for a gate master—Sumatozou or otherwise—than to merit a place among the Latura Corps. It is our highest honor, and one I was beyond humbled to receive.”

“What happened?” Taylor asked.

A stream of air surged from the elephant’s nostrils. “The night before my departure from Sakall, I was rousted awake by a station alert. Someone had breached our gate security during a routine data dump and captured a one-time image of the Cartography Guild’s most sacred possession—the interstellar transit atlas.”

Japhara.

“As you can imagine,” Akoya continued, “an exhaustive investigation followed, and while it was eventually determined that multiple factors had contributed to the breach, the fallout was ultimately laid before the master tasked with guarding the Guild’s secrets.” He patted his own chest. “I was discharged from master service and banished from Guild society by my peers, left to wander the stars alone. That was 16 very long years ago.”

Taylor stared at the ground. “I’m sorry, Akoya. I can’t imagine—”

“No, you most certainly cannot,” the elephant snapped. “I lost everything when that atlas was taken. My home. My community. My career. My status. Even the other Sumatozou turned their backs on me, fearing any association with my name would result in a backlash to their own careers from the Council.” He grunted. “You can imagine my surprise, therefore, when the actual party responsible for the breach—a Grand Latura, no less—returned to Union space and a hero’s welcome three years ago, having been rescued from his own exile by the human commander of a long forgotten mercenary company from Earth.”

Taylor chewed his lip. “If you know about Rukoria, then you know Japhara Hylune wasn’t acting of his own volition. The Krulig vowed to kill his family if he didn’t help them steal the atlas. He had no choice.”

“There is always a choice.” Akoya sneered. “Hylune was a Grand Latura. He knew that better than anyone. He should’ve taken the secrets of the atlas to his grave, per the obligations of his oath. The fact that he didn’t makes him a coward—only it was I who paid the price for it. Thus, it is I who deserves recompense.” Akoya motioned to his winged comrades, who shoved Taylor’s team to their knees in the dirt with weapons drawn.

“Wait,” Taylor rushed out. “You said it yourself. I didn’t meet Japhara until three years ago. Neither did anyone else on my team. We had nothing to do with the atlas theft or your banishment.”

“Perhaps,” Akoya said. “Nevertheless, what’s that human expression of yours? Guilty by association?”

Taylor scrambled to collect his thoughts. “If you know Japhara, then you know he doesn’t give a rat’s ass about humans, even me. Our alliance on Rukoria was born out of necessity for survival, not because we liked each other. He won’t come for me, no matter who you kill.”

“We shall see.” Akoya gestured to the line of mercs on their knees. “Choose.”

“Excuse me?” Taylor arched an eyebrow.

“Do you know why I partnered with the KzSha for my mining venture here on Droxis?” Akoya folded his arms. “It wasn’t for their numbers, or