TENEBREA RISING

Informationen zum Autor Roxann Dawson and Daniel Graham Klappentext On the planet Klamdara, several members of the elite fighting force of the Alliance known as the Tenebrea -- including their leader, Hal K'Rin -- are imprisoned, dying, and hoping for rescue. On the planet Cor, that hope resides in Andrea Flores, one of the Tenebrea's best operatives, and her ragtag group of wilderness clones. But Andrea has never lost sight of her true reason for joining the Tenebrea: to take revenge upon the murderers of her husband and daughter. However, the rescue of K'Rin leads Andrea to an awful truth that he is hiding about Andrea's past, one that will throw her quest for revenge into chaos! Andrea Flores's long, difficult road to avenge the deaths of her loved ones comes to a head in the shocking conclusion to the Tenebrea trilogy! Chapter One Hal K'Rin -- headman of the Rin Clan, leader of the Tenebrea -- stepped from his dusty concrete shed into the prison yard. His bones and joints ached, having absorbed the cold from the concrete floor where he'd slept. He squinted at the Klamdara sun that would soon heat this desolate repository of traitors. The yellow orb peered over the stone walls, casting long shadows. K'Rin shielded his sore eyes, pressing his thick hand to his forehead. At the base of the wall, Feld Jo'Orom's ossified body lay on a pallet, his eye sockets staring up, the once bright rings beneath his eyes turned slate gray. A thin shroud of red dust covered the black and gray uniform of the Tenebrea. Jo'Orom's jaw was agape, his dried lips peeled back, showing yellow teeth. The prison commandant, D'Cru, had ordered the body prominently displayed to intimidate the prisoners. K'Rin closed his eyes and remembered Jo'Orom alive, training the young Tenebrea to serve the Rin Clan, to fight and survive. He missed Jo'Orom's good counsel as much as his companionship. In his mind, K'Rin addressed the image of Jo'Orom: How did I get us into this awful situation? K'Rin's memories stirred Jo'Orom's voice that answered predictably, with the same admonition: Hal K'Rin, you may look into your past, but don't stare. I can't help but stare, K'Rin thought. I started us down this path. My father warned the council about clone manufacturing in the Cor Ordinate system, and the council ruined him. I formed the Tenebrea with your help to monitor the Ordinate -- and to vindicate my father. I infected you, old friend, with the Quazel Protein that killed you. I infected all of us, and I can't undo what I've done. Instead of vindicating my father and saving Jod, I have managed only to lead us all to this prison. K'Rin gazed upon Jo'Orom's body. K'Rin had infected himself and his Tenebrea with the protein to ensure discipline, assuming that he'd always have the Quazel enzyme to administer or withhold -- the ultimate guarantor of loyalty. Now, he was ashamed of his cynicism. The Tenebrea were as loyal as ever -- perhaps more so, since their brotherhood was now nailed to mutual suffering, a suffering he'd caused. He regretted his arrogance, his vain assumption that he'd always have the enzyme -- that he needed it at all. And K'Rin was embarrassed for misreading his enemies on the Jod Council. I believed Pl'Don and the council would look at the physical evidence and see the dangers inherent in the Cor Ordinate's cloning program. K'Rin glanced down to observe a sightless notsig beetle trying to climb over his frayed boot: stymied yet stubborn. It clawed at the dust with its hind feet, reaching the sole of his boot with forelegs. Feathery antennae tried to make sense of the obstacle, too close to the problem to have perspective. My boot might as well be a mountain. The council and the Fleet are as blind as this notsig beetle. K'Rin lifted his boot and let the beetle shuffle ahead in the dust, resuming its straight path apparently to...

Autorentext

Roxann Dawson and Daniel Graham

Klappentext

On the planet Klamdara, several members of the elite fighting force of the Alliance known as the Tenebrea -- including their leader, Hal K'Rin -- are imprisoned, dying, and hoping for rescue. On the planet Cor, that hope resides in Andrea Flores, one of the Tenebrea's best operatives, and her ragtag group of wilderness clones. But Andrea has never lost sight of her true reason for joining the Tenebrea: to take revenge upon the murderers of her husband and daughter.
However, the rescue of K'Rin leads Andrea to an awful truth that he is hiding about Andrea's past, one that will throw her quest for revenge into chaos!
Andrea Flores's long, difficult road to avenge the deaths of her loved ones comes to a head in the shocking conclusion to the Tenebrea trilogy!

Leseprobe
Chapter One

Hal K'Rin -- headman of the Rin Clan, leader of the Tenebrea -- stepped from his dusty concrete shed into the prison yard. His bones and joints ached, having absorbed the cold from the concrete floor where he'd slept. He squinted at the Klamdara sun that would soon heat this desolate repository of traitors. The yellow orb peered over the stone walls, casting long shadows. K'Rin shielded his sore eyes, pressing his thick hand to his forehead.

At the base of the wall, Feld Jo'Orom's ossified body lay on a pallet, his eye sockets staring up, the once bright rings beneath his eyes turned slate gray. A thin shroud of red dust covered the black and gray uniform of the Tenebrea. Jo'Orom's jaw was agape, his dried lips peeled back, showing yellow teeth. The prison commandant, D'Cru, had ordered the body prominently displayed to intimidate the prisoners.

K'Rin closed his eyes and remembered Jo'Orom alive, training the young Tenebrea to serve the Rin Clan, to fight and survive. He missed Jo'Orom's good counsel as much as his companionship. In his mind, K'Rin addressed the image of Jo'Orom: How did I get us into this awful situation?

K'Rin's memories stirred Jo'Orom's voice that answered predictably, with the same admonition: Hal K'Rin, you may look into your past, but don't stare.

I can't help but stare, K'Rin thought. I started us down this path. My father warned the council about clone manufacturing in the Cor Ordinate system, and the council ruined him. I formed the Tenebrea with your help to monitor the Ordinate -- and to vindicate my father. I infected you, old friend, with the Quazel Protein that killed you. I infected all of us, and I can't undo what I've done. Instead of vindicating my father and saving Jod, I have managed only to lead us all to this prison.

K'Rin gazed upon Jo'Orom's body. K'Rin had infected himself and his Tenebrea with the protein to ensure discipline, assuming that he'd always have the Quazel enzyme to administer or withhold -- the ultimate guarantor of loyalty. Now, he was ashamed of his cynicism. The Tenebrea were as loyal as ever -- perhaps more so, since their brotherhood was now nailed to mutual suffering, a suffering he'd caused. He regretted his arrogance, his vain assumption that he'd always have the enzyme -- that he needed it at all.

And K'Rin was embarrassed for misreading his enemies on the Jod Council. I believed Pl'Don and the council would look at the physical evidence and see the dangers inherent in the Cor Ordinate's cloning program.

K'Rin glanced down to observe a sightless notsig beetle trying to climb over his frayed boot: stymied yet stubborn. It clawed at the dust with its hind feet, reaching the sole of his boot with forelegs. Feathery antennae tried to make sense of the obstacle, too close to the problem to have perspective. My boot might as well be a mountain. The council and the Fleet are as blind as this notsig beetle. K'Rin lifted his boot and let the beetle shuffle ahead in the dust, resuming its straight path apparently to nowhere. He raised the heel of his boot to crush the beetle, but a thought prevented him: *This beetle's blindness is natural; the council's blin…