by Drew Avera
Within a few moments the device was powered on and synced. It was an older, cruder model com-unit, but Ilium only needed it to do one thing, send a message. He knew Vesna would be scanning for off-going messages, but most of the messages being monitored would be video. Audio carried such a small signature, compared to video, that it would be harder to detect, something Ilium doubted Vesna would have thought about. It’s a good thing I have experience with these kinds of messages.
He initiated a new message and typed in the command address for the King Slayer, the flagship of the battle group the Hamæråté would soon rendezvous with. I may as well use Vesna’s plan against him. Ilium brought the com-unit up to his mouth and spoke calmly.
“My name is Lieutenant Commander Ilium Gyl. I am the commanding officer of the Hamæråté. My ship had been taken over by a junior officer named Lieutenant Vesna and I have been locked in my quarters. I have reason to believe Vesna is part of an organization seeking to infiltrate and disrupt the mission of the Greshian Navy and possibly topple our government by taking control of Greshian warships. I received orders shortly before my incarceration for us to rendezvous with the GNS King Slayer. We were in route, but I am unaware of any potential course corrections after Vesna and his followers took control of the Hamæråté. Please send help.”
Ilium uploaded the audio file to his secured server and changed the address for the message to be sent it to every ship in the Greshian Navy. It was a broader net in hopes of catching someone’s attention, he knew the King Slayer was the closest asset, but anyone outside of the Hamæråté would be invaluable if it meant he was released and Vesna got what was coming to him. Ilium knew Haranger would find out, but that didn’t matter. What did matter was stopping Vesna and taking back control of his ship. “Take that you piece of shit,” Ilium said as he dropped the com-unit onto his bed and lay down. He knew if the message was discovered that Vesna would send his men to come and attack him. There’s nothing I can do about that now, but in the meantime I may as well rest and wait for the fireworks to begin.
He sat back on the bed and silently thought about the mess the last few days had become. First, he lost the Replicade, but he’d found the pirate responsible for eliciting the distress beacon. Then he made waves with someone just as spiteful as he was on the ship, not a good first encounter for a Commanding Officer. Now those waves resulted in his potential loss of command, but he wasn’t about to go down without a fight. If it came down to it, he would claw Vesna’s eyes out of his face and shove them down his throat.
“You have no idea who you’re messing with,” he said, hoping Vesna could hear him, but knowing he wasn’t listening in. “By time I’m done with you, I will dismantle the entire Organization and set my own path for power. The Organization and the Greshian Navy be damned. You thought the Organization was going to bring the empire to its knees? No, it was always going to be me.”
He smiled at the thought. Haranger has been a crutch this entire time. I have the power to fulfill my own destiny and I’m not about to let someone take that away from me. Ilium rose and took a seat at the empty desk in the corner of the room. He opened a drawer and pulled out a bottle of MureWa. He ran his thumb along the label. He remembered when Jerot gave him the bottle. It was supposed to be opened to celebrate my victory over Greshia, he remembered. A part of him thought that day would never come. The other part of him was excited that he would get their on his own accord, without the Organization’s influence. Ilium contemplated opening the bottle, but his thoughts drifted to Jerot and the distinct possibility that Vesna may not have been lying about his friend being dead.
“Son of a bitch,” he muttered under his breath. Shaking his head, Ilium placed the bottle back in the desk drawer and closed it. “If they did kill you, then I have no reason to celebrate anything.”
Ilium thought of the last time he’d seen his friend. It was on Greshia, the night before he shipped out on the Telran. The future looked bright and he was excited to finally be allowed to infiltrate a warship of that magnitude. He was naïve then, a loose cannon. Jerot had said as much before they started drinking. After, was anyone’s guess what had been said. Ilium just remembered waking up on the Telran with no recollection of how he had gotten there.
“You were always the one looking out for me, weren’t you?” Frustrated, Ilium pulled the bottle back out and opened it. He took down a glass from the shelf above the desk and poured the MureWa into it. Taking the glass in his hand, he swirled the contents to get air into it and lifted the glass. “Thank you, Jerot, for reminding me I was never truly alone out here.” Ilium brought the glass to his lips and took a sip, the burn of the liquid going down his throat almost brought tears to his eyes. Or it could have just been a memory. Either way, I’m not letting this bottle go to waste.
Time seemed to stand still as he sat in his lonely room, sipping the MureWa every few seconds. He could feel the lightheadedness beginning as his eyelids grew heavy, drooping as he scanned the room. I didn’t meant o get drunk, he thought, but I’m so glad I can. His heart felt heavy the more he thought about what was happening. Vesna had control of everything and it was anyone’s guess if a Greshian ship would hear and respond to Ilium’s message. As the seconds past, he began to think he would just die alone in his cabin, imprisoned by the son of a bitch Vesna, and forgotten by history. As his thoughts drifted to that possibility, he cried, thinking his destiny was lost.
“That’s just the booze talking,” he said out loud. He turned, looking for the voice in his head to appear in the room behind him. No one was there, but he caught movement from the corner of his eye, the the right of where he sat. ilium slowly turned to look and saw himself in the tall, narrow mirror. He stood and sauntered over to it, the glass still half-full clutched in his hand.
“You thought you had it all, but what do you have now? You’ve gone and fucked up, fucked yourself right in the ass, and there’s nothing you can do about it but drink. You should be ashamed of yourself.”
He glared at his reflection. He knew it was himself looking back at him, but part of him remembered the glare his father used to give before he left the family. His father was never impressed with what Ilium did; no matter how much effort Ilium went to go about impressing him. The only thing he ever received from his father was the look of disdain etched in his stoic face, an up-raised eyebrow and flared nostrils.
“You deserve as much,” Ilium said. “You were never good enough. What makes you think the universe owed you a destiny? Even if it did, you would just go and fuck that up too.”
He staggered forward, still clutching the glass in his hand. He looked at it and then back at the mirror. His broken heart was bleeding with self-pity. He knew it, somewhere in the deepest reaches of his mind, he knew exactly what was going on, but he didn’t care. Ilium tightened his grip on the glass and lifted it to take another sip. “You killed them all you piece of shit.”
Ilium hurled the glass at the mirror, shattering it into thousands of tiny fragments. He watched the bits and pieces of the mirror fall like rain onto the deck of his cabin. He stood there for a long time, waiting for the last bits of the mirror to fall, but it was stuck in place by adhesive or something else. It didn’t matter. I got off my chest what I needed to, he thought. That should be good enough for now. I’m sure I’ll be dead tomorrow either way.
He walked over to his bed and stared at the dark gray blanket covering the mattress. It was as welcoming as the Greshian seas in its darkness. He leaned forward, allowing his bodyweight to carry him forward as he crashed onto his bed and fell to sleep, leaving the real world and all of its disappointments behind. At least for now.
19
Deis
Seeing the CERCO ship looming within weapon’s range was a reminder of every time Deis failed in life, or at least the points in time he felt he had failed. The time he was fourteen years old and his sister, Milila was killed because he didn’t accompany her to the Lelawa protests. The time his marriage to Ma
likea almost ended because the strain of the priesthood and the newness of their relationship placed them at odds. The moment their desire to try again on another world resulted in their abduction and torture at the hand of Crase Tuin and his men. The moment he was unable to save Neular after Crase turned him against his people, blaming Malikea and Deis for leaving Neular to die. It didn’t matter if the rest of society would not blame him for those failures, he blamed himself. And now, as the CERCO ship closed in on the Replicade’s position, he felt the anxiety welling up in his chest, thrusting itself against the knot forming in his throat. I won’t cry, he thought, I’m stronger than the demons that haunt me.
His fingers curled around the beads dangling from his neck, under the crimson robe he often wore. The silk material felt light on his skin, cool to the touch, but now it only felt like a decoration as sweat caused the material to stick to his tight back muscles.
“They haven’t made any moves to shoot at us, maybe that’s a good sign,” Malikea said. Deis could tell his husband was only trying to put his mind at ease, but it wasn’t working. It only made him wonder at what moment that would change and they would be destroyed.
“It’s only a matter of time,” he muttered through his clenched teeth. It was barely more than a whisper.
“I’m sorry, but I didn’t understand you.”
Deis turned to his husband and flashed a forced smile. “I said; let’s hope it stays that way.”
Malikea nodded his head as if he agreed, but the skeptical look on his face said he knew Deis was lying. “I‒”
“How is Brendle doing?” Deis interrupted.
Malikea stopped speaking, biting back the retort that lingered on the edge of his tongue. Deis watched his reflection and could see the scowl on Malikea’s face, but he was in charge of the ship while Anki was seeing to Brendle. He needed to be informed of all things related to the ship and its crew. He needed to occupy his mind with something other than whether or not the CERCO ship called Yeopa would fire on them.
“Anki is with him,” Malikea answered.
“Could you please follow up and see if there is any change in his condition,” Desi snapped. He didn’t mean to, but his words were formed at the same time as lingering doubt convinced him he was responsible for all of the lives that would be lost if the Yeopa fired.
Malikea sighed loudly behind him, apparently tired of taking Deis’ negative attitude in stride. Deis couldn’t blame him, he hated himself for it, but felt as if his attitude was beyond his control, like the rest of the things going wrong in his life. “Fine,” he said, turning to leave.
The communications panel illuminated with an alert, startling both men. It was an incoming call from the Yeopa.
“What is it?”
“It’s them,” Deis said, his hand hovering nervously over the switch that would feed the video to the monitor in front of him.
“Are you going to answer it?
I don’t want to.
“I don’t know.”
“You kind of have to.”
He’s right.
The weight of his hand felt too heavy to hold up any longer and it found itself resting on the communications switch, ushering the video feed to an open call to the person on the other side. Deis took a deep breath before lifting his eyes to the bulkhead monitor and seeing the stern face looking back at him.
“Can…can I help you?” Deis asked.
The man, dressed in a navy blue suit smirked. His gray hair was cropped close to his head, the lines of old age etched deep in the skin of his face, but his eyes were afire with life as if he was immortal. “Replicade, my name is Hemara Kich. I am the captain of the Yeopa, and I speak on behalf of an organization called CERCO. Your ship contains property that belongs to CERCO and I am here to reclaim it.”
Deis’ eyes were wide. He’d never been on this side of a negotiation before, much less one with such high stakes. He wondered what Brendle would do.
“I’m unaware of any stolen property, sir.”
The man’s jowls sagged as his expression changed. “I don’t tolerate liars. Let me rephrase it so I make myself clear. You have a girl on board your ship. I want her back. Do you understand?”
“Uh.” It was all he had; a pause word that said just as much about his guilt as any intelligent word could have said. He saw it in the man’s eyes that he was onto Deis, but he had no choice but to follow through with his plan. If he could even call what he had a plan. “There’s no girl on this ship, just a woman who has been part of our crew for several months.”
Kich looked to his left and said something too soft for Deis to hear. The effect of whatever he said was not lost on Deis, however. A blast took place right above the bow of the Replicade, causing the ship to roll port before readjusting itself because of the autopilot sequence. Malikea shrieked, as did Deis, to the delight of the man on the monitor. “What the‒. Malikea, go see about the others.”
Malikea ran off the bridge, leaving Deis to speak to the man on the monitor alone.
“As you can see, I take my job serious enough to potentially destroy what I am after to prevent it from falling into the wrong hands. If you value your lives you will give the girl over to me.”
Deis stood back up after hunching over one of the chairs on the bridge, bracing himself for another shot. “I told you we don’t have a girl on board,” he hissed.
Kich looked down his nose at Deis, his nostrils flaring with anger. “You expect me to believe the energy output registered on your ship was the merely your drive? The readings were dozens of times higher than any parameter your ship should be capable of emitting. In fact, if it was your drive then I suspect you all would be susceptible to radiation poisoning and will soon die. Instead, you and your friend look to be in perfect health.”
“I‒”
“I don’t want to hear your excuses. You have two hours to make your choice. Turn the girl over to me or you and your crew will be obliterated. Kich out.”
The screen went blank and Deis was left alone. His heart was pounding out of fear and he knew there was no way out of the situation except to comply with the demand. Or we could fight and die, he thought. A sound behind him caught his attention.
“How is Brendle?” Deis asked as he turned around. Standing before him was the girl, Carista. If I wasn’t already afraid, then I definitely would be now, he thought as he forced himself not to back away. Logic said this was just a child, that there was no reason to be afraid. Reality screamed in logics face because of all the things she had done in the span of less than a day. This is the girl who transported Anki and Brendle onto the ship out of thin air. This is the girl who threw Brendle into the bulkhead and knocked him out. This is the girl who now had one of the largest ships Deis had ever seen ready to blow the Replicade into dust.
“I think I hurt him,” she answered. There was fear and regret in her eyes. Deis could see that clearly, but there was anger there too.
“I know, but I think he will be all right. Anki said he is just sleeping,” Deis said, hoping that wouldn’t prompt her to act out again.
“I didn’t mean to do it. I was just scared.”
“Because of the man on the screen just now?” Carista nodded, but didn’t speak. “I understand. I’m afraid too.”
“They want to take me back there, don’t they?”
“Yes, but I think Anki is coming up with a plan to not do that,” Deis answered. What that plan could be, I have absolutely no idea.
Carista stepped forward, her hands folded in front of her. “You have to give me back,” she said meekly.
“But‒”
“If you don’t, you will all die.”
Deis stared at her, his heart in his throat. That’s not what I wanted to hear. The girl made no move towards him, but he felt like she was closing in on him with her stare. Her eyes shifted in color, from a light blue to a yellowish, hazy hue. They were locked into each other’s gaze for several moments before Anki’s voice came through
the intercom, scaring the life out of Deis.
“Deis, are you all right?”
Startled, he took a moment to collect himself. “Anki? Yes. What? Why do you ask?”
There was a moment of silence echoing over the open space between Deis and Carista. Her eyes appeared normal again and Deis felt slightly more relieved.
“It’s Brendle,” she said.
Oh, no, Deis thought, dread filling his heart. “What about him?” He asked, his voice sounded like a squeak to his ears.
“He’s finally waking up,” Anki answered.
Deis exhaled a long breath, relieved that it wasn’t more devastating news. Their situation was already horrendous, they didn’t need it to get worse.
“That’s excellent news, Anki. I’ll be down shortly.” Carista stared at him, her eyes wide. She gave a single, slow nod. “And I’ll be bringing company,” he said.
20
Brendle
Brendle had wakened with a headache before, but never had he awoken with his whole body aching from head to toe. At first it just hurt to breathe, and then it hurt to exist. He didn’t know if that was progress or not, but at least he wasn’t dead. His bleary eyes opened, the light of the medical bay blinding him for a moment before they adjusted. “What the hell happened?” He asked. There’s never been a time when I’ve woken up in one of these carts where it was a good thing, he thought as he struggled to sit up. Sitting up seemed to be the wrong thing to do, so he laid back into the medical cart.
“There was an accident,” Anki said as she stood next to the rest of the crew and the young girl.
Carista, he thought, the last thing I remember is Carista waking up from a nightmare and I tried to help her. “Let me guess, I was thrown across the room and slammed into the bulkhead?”
“That’s about right,” Anki said.
The young girl stepped forward, her eyes teary. “I’m sorry that I hurt you.”
