“It’s a rough galaxy,” Brodin said as he printed out a slip of paper with the coordinates and offered it to her. Mika held out the half of the broach she had along with her own slip of paper, and they made the trade.
Mika immediately stood to leave. Brodin sat back and said, “Jondering off so fast? You afeared what we might do to you?”
“I’m more afraid what my friend will do to you if I don’t get out there,” Mika said, and she marched out the door.
Chapter
Two
Two Paths
Miniature holographic ruins sprawled out across the table before Lancaster. Remains of buildings squatted in pools of gathered liquid surrounded by walls of small sandstone cliffs. He leaned over, peering closely into the light illusion, studying entryways and other details, committing them to memory while Mika described it all.
“The wilderness of Issur upon Haedus-Sadatoni. Badlands that were once underwater, but over the eons dried up. The land masses altered, but the ever-sturdy alien building structures remained. The planet is owned by Bitterpub Corp within the Koneraad Conglomeration, and they have settlements on the world, so this isn't Teo's final desto or he would have found his way to them. Whatever he uncovered here caused him to jonder on to another planet. The ruins you see are that of the Milak Shivar, so it's the most likely location that he went.”
“To look for the Idol of Haniz,” Lancaster said in contemplation.
Mika bit her lip. The obsession with locating this artifact had cost her husband Teo his freedom, and possibly his life. He had gone out searching for the ancient alien idol and had disappeared. He was presumed dead until an acquaintance named Nikos Kazakis had shown evidence that he was stranded on a wooded world. However, Nikos had wanted payment for this information that would cost far more people their lives; a price Mika would not pay.
More than a year since this revelation, and more than three years since Teo’s disappearance, Mika was on the trail that may find him. The information she had gathered from the underworld had led her to her last hope, Haedus-Sadatoni. The ruins on this planet would either point her to where Teo had gone, or end the search altogether.
She had done as much as she could on her own, but now she would need the help of the one person she wanted to keep furthest from this, Lancaster James, her ex-husband. They had been married before Teo, a union that had ended because of his wanderlust spirit. She had thought she’d moved on to a more steady life with a partner who had interest in settling down, only to learn that she’d made the same mistake again. The only difference was that Teo had initially done it behind her back.
Looking at Lancaster do his work now, Mika realized why he made it out of so many tight situations. Despite appearing to jump into things, he studied what he was getting himself into as thoroughly as possible before landing. It was probably why his own search for the Idol of Haniz had been a success after Teo had disappeared.
“Yes,” Mika said an awkwardly long time after Lancaster had spoken. “It's claro, though, the clues he found didn't lead him to the idol, otherwise you would have found him... or his remains, on Alkis 4.”
Lancaster turned to her and almost responded that Teo still could have died there and Lancaster just did not see him. The holovid she had seen of her husband showed him in a jungle, the same environment surrounding the ruins on Alkis 4. There had also been a local tribe who had nearly killed and eaten Lancaster, a fate that still could have befallen Teo. But seeing the almost desperate look of hope on Mika's face, Lancaster decided not to mention any of this. Instead he observed something else about the ruins before him. “Some of the lower structures near the center look like they might be intact.”
“I considered them, but they view too small to house Milak Shivar,” Mika said.
Lancaster lowered his head and looked up at the hologram as if he could peer inside from below. “Yeah, but it views like the top and the roof. The rest might be buried underneath. We might be able to get in through this waterway if it's not too solidified. Won't be comfortable, but...”
Mika faced him and said, “You don't have to do this if you don't want to. Your debt to the museum is paid off, so you don't owe me anything.”
“Yeah, but...” Lancaster started. He stopped himself from saying it was for her and said, “Ruins are always filled with artifacts. This could turn out to be quite a valuable run.”
Mika nodded, as if expecting the answer. “How very mercenarial.”
Lancaster shifted his attention back to the model. He flipped through some older files of other Milak Shivar sites. This species varied its architecture wildly, so it was difficult to make predictions based on previous discoveries. However, the similarities that did exist generated valuable clues.
Mika switched on a recording, one that was fuzzy and full of interference; the last transmission Teo had sent: “This… for Mika… to meet her… from the heart… below… you are… always with me.”
Lancaster had heard the message before, but had not focused as closely on each word. “Did he call you Micah?” he asked.
“What?” Mika asked annoyed.
“It sounds like he says Micah instead of Mika. Was that a thing between you two…”
“Stop,” Mika said.
“I’m just… Listen to it…”
“I have, many times. He’s not calling me Micah…”
“And who is her?” Lancaster mused.
“What do you mean?”
“He says to meet her. Do you credit…”
“No.”
“Mika, I never met this guy, but are you completely abso he wasn’t…”
“I know, Lancaster. That’s not something you should dwell on.”
“I wonder if Micah is supposed to go meet her…”
“You want to focus on the ruins?” Mika demanded.
“I am! This might have been a message with clues in it. All this time we’ve been assuming that was a message of affection, but maybe he was trying to say something in it. Play it again.”
“This… for Micah…”
“See?”
“Shhh!”
“…to meet her… from the heart…”
“That really sounds like…”
“I know what it sounds like…”
“…below… you are… always with me.”
“I know this is dagni for you, Lan. And if you can’t do it, I comprend.”
“The question is, can you do it?” Lancaster said. “Can you ruko this if the truth turns out to be something other than what you want it to be?”
“I’ll be okay,” Mika said determined. “Will you be okay if the truth isn’t what you want it to be?”
“What’s that?”
Mika rolled her eyes. “You’re going to make me say it. You want him to not be in love with me the way you were. You’re scrying for ways to prove he was cheating on me, or leaving me, or not interested anymore, or, or…”
“Or doing what I did to drive you away,” Lancaster said mournfully.
Mika was silent for a moment. Lancaster’s suggestion was the most likely answer, and it was strangely the one that made her most angry, because it reflected more on her choices than anything else. She allowed only a slight nod as she turned her head away. Then she left the room saying, “Don’t let your feelings interfere with the job.”
Lancaster wanted to say that she needed to take the same advice, but he thought better of it and instead turned his focus back onto the ruins where they would be going, and comparing them to past sites where he had been.
The clacking of Mika’s shoes across the museum floor always denoted her mood. Whenever students heard steps this sharp, they knew to stay out of the way. Mika never noticed this. But today she spotted one figure, Little Jack; Lancaster’s partner. His diminutive form stood by the doorway, hands in his leather jacket pockets, his large, frosty glasses peering up at her like a stoic statue. One had to look closely to even see he was breathing.
“He’s downst
airs” Mika said.
“I know,” Little Jack said, moving only his mouth.
His sudden appearances always unnerved Mika. She never knew what to make of the ex-con Lancaster always relied on, so she continued out the door.
The fresh air of St. Marguerite was always refreshing; more so than most worlds due to the ever-present ocean breeze. With just under 90% of the planet made up of water, and none of the land being particularly large, wind and moisture were every day aspects of life. Above, gathering clouds denoted an upcoming downpour; a wildly unpredictable part of life on this world. Days ranged from mild and breezy to major storms whose electrical discharges could destroy unprotected structures.
As such, communities such as Saberaux University huddled together under protective framework that captured lightning and tempered heavy winds. But even with this assistance, moving about during bad weather was difficult, and most people hunkered down.
The stone buildings being sheltered were of a distinct architecture once known as French. The planet had been founded by a corporate baroness from that part of Earth before it was abandoned; and she had named it after an island she had enjoyed visiting off the southern coast of France before it was swallowed up by the sea. The school had been set up for and partially named after the baroness's daughter, Sabine, for whom there were statues in pious poses across campus. It was because of this that Mika always thought the names should have been reversed: the world of Marguerite and the school of St. Sabine.
The fact that the word “saint” was associated with the school at all was an irony as it was one of the most prestigious locations for learning in all of the settled stars. The world did have a religious side though, as the name had attracted some of the few remaining theological organizations to islands on other parts of the world. And so it was a world of faith and knowledge all embroiled together under a tempest sky.
Mika could see one of the monasteries in the distance as she leaned over the railing and stared out into the now roiling ocean. A storm was building, and this was going to be a big one.
Chapter
Three
Mommy Dearest
Captain Bistan stood at the front of the bridge watching the swirling mass of the wormhole tube. He was grateful to be on a ship with a broad window across the front rather than a view screen. He always felt claustrophobic with those. Even though they provided more perspectives of any part of the ship, he could never stop remembering that the view was artificial, through a lens; not transparent for him to see with his own eyes.
The panorama outside at the moment was harder to see. The shades of dark and the types of matter within the wormhole were not intended for human receptacles. On a view screen he could alter the settings to translate various types of radiation and electromagnetism to colors and shapes, but Bistan liked stretching his eyesight to its limits in order to make out the subtle differences in the shades of black.
“Coming up on Fleurbis Relay Point,” reported the navigator. She always gave this warning exactly one minute before arrival.
“All hands prepare for arrival,” Captain Bistan said, remaining at the front. “Any delay on our escorts?” he asked.
“Negative,” the resource manager responded. “All twelve transports and both escort frigates are registering stable tunnels and are expected to emerge within a five minute window.”
Bistan did not like having to wait several minutes for all of his ships, but it was the price one paid for the faster travel of Wormdrives. Spectrum drives had had to deal with gravitational fluctuations within the trans-dimensional highway of the brane, but ships within them could coordinate a little better upon emerging. Wormdrives placed each ship into its own space-time tunnel, which transported them to their destination faster, but by varying degrees; and so at each destination fleets had to wait to regroup.
The mouth of the wormhole opened before them, creating a sudden whirlpool of light whose center faded into the familiar black canvas with pearly dots and a translucent, creamy belt across its axis. Directly before them sat a space station surrounded by three small fleets of the Navarus Corporate Barony. Each had one escort frigate and a half-dozen transports under their care.
Bistan’s small fleet was to break up into these convoys and go their own ways toward their destinations. This was the most efficient and safest way to do it with wormhole travel and with the Relic Wars currently raging. Bistan’s ships had items recovered from a site identified as having once been occupied by an alien civilization, and they were on their way to either R&D centers, augmentation departments, or construction facilities, depending on how well they were understood.
Transports with goods like these used to travel on their own, but now they had to be guarded from attack by other corporate entities. Navarus was ahead in this ancient technology race, but others coveted their position, and raids were not uncommon.
As such, Captain Bistan held back his ships as they emerged from their wormholes until they were all united and ready to push on to the relay station together.
While waiting, the captain noticed something strange beyond the station. A deep darkness, blacker than the void of space, seemed to expand, warping the view of the stars beyond like a black hole.
Just over a second after Bistan began to notice it, the sensors operator reported an anomaly emerging from the same spot. “Activate the power shell. Reinforce the front. That’s an order for the fleet. Comms, tell the relay station…”
“Something’s emerging, sir!” came the heightened voice of the sensors operator. Everyone on the bridge looked out the front to witness the bubble become a burst of light and energy. Emerging from it was a small fleet of very large war vessels. One was a dreadnaught; the Authoritor, large enough to swallow almost all three of Bistan’s frigates in its belly. The other three were only half as big.
The sensors operator scanned their origin, but Bistan already recognized them; they were from the Poltox Corporate Barony. They were not likely to show much mercy. Nor were they likely to back down, though the relay station still ordered them to do so. Bistan knew they would not come this far only to turn away; not with what his side had.
The relay station and other ships were now reacting, scrambling to ready their weapons and defense systems. Fleurbis Station had a solid rack of missiles and some good guns, but the attackers knew that, and no doubt had come prepared to counter all of their ordinance.
“Fleurbis Station is calling all ships to them,” said the communications officer.
“Setting course,” said the navigator, trying to save time.
“Negative,” Captain Bistan said. “Our charge is our convoy. All ships in our fleet are to remain in this zone until the rest of the transports arrive.”
The relay station covered the three convoys as they pulled away from the station. A flurry of missiles shot out of the station like wild, growing hair and curved toward the enemy. The frigates fired their long-range beam weapons. Clouds of chafe engulfed all four enemy ships, then a second puff emerged from the smaller ones: massive squadrons of drones.
The frigates and the station launched their own drones to intercept. It took all they had just to equal what was coming at them.
“How many transports do we have?” Bistan demanded, wanting to get into the fight.
“Six, sir. Now seven.”
Five to go, and they could take another four minutes. He spotted a new mass of drones emerging from the enemy capitol ship; and with all the station’s fleets’ drones engaged, they would have to resort to manned fighters.
“Our fleet is going in,” Bistan ordered. “Transports follow the frigates. Frigates, ready our drones.”
The three Navarus war ships moved in to engage. Fleurbis Station was swarmed by the time they arrived, and they had launched their fighters. Bistan launched his drones, and ordered his other ships to launch theirs at one of the enemy’s smaller vessels.
The station’s transports were making their way out of the battle zone, prepar
ing to deploy their wormholes.
“Tell our transports to go with theirs. Full speed!” Bistan said. The message was relayed, and the transports headed toward their allies.
Three wormholes opened up. One of the transports slipped inside, but the second got only halfway when a beam from the Poltox ship hit the cosmic hole and closed it up, cutting the vessel in half. The third was closed before the ship got to it.
“What is that thing?” Bistan asked, pointing at a small device tumbling onto the battle area. He would think it was debris, but nothing nearby had been destroyed. He would think it was a drone, but no squadrons were close enough. It was drifting among the transports.
“Unknown, sir. It…”
The device stopped, and a moment later, all the transports that had started near the station were sucked toward it. They smashed together, their hulls twisting over one another into a giant ball.
“Message all our transports: strass out of here, any direction you can,” Captain Bistan ordered. “Open wormholes to any destination.”
“Our heading, captain?” the navigator asked.
“Get between us and the transports. Don’t let the invaders get them…”
“Important message, Captain,” the comm officer said, and he put it on speaker.
It was the captain of the lead Poltox ship. She was calling Fleurbis Station, offering amnesty. However, it was not a demand for surrender, it was a bid. The Poltox Barony would pay them to join their side. Silence followed, during which the opposing front-line ships came within range of their beam weapons, but no one fired, awaiting the response.
The commander of the station took the buyoff; so did two of their ships. One of them refused, and turned to flee. Fleurbis station fired into it to show their loyalty to their new commanders.
“How many of our transports are here?” Bistan asked.
Relic Worlds - Lancaster James & the Salient Seed of the Galaxy, Part 1 Page 2
