Xeno Reckoning
by
Paul Heingarten
This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, events and situations in this book are purely fictitious. Any similarity to actual persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Copyright ©2020 Paul Heingarten
All Rights Reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Decatur Media
New Orleans, Louisiana
www.decaturmedia.com
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
The Essence Wars Series
About the Author
Other books by Paul Heingarten
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Chapter 1
Selina Ravencraft looked out the window at an arriving transport. It was mid-morning, but even the twin suns of the Zormad system hadn't managed to break through the clouds yet. On the nearby landing pad stood a collection of people waiting to be loaded aboard the arriving ship.
Selina lived with several thousand humans, refugees from Earth living on a colony on Zormad called NewEarth. She watched the groups of ten each, lined up and chained together on the landing pad outside. She wondered how much they second guessed what they did wrong or just what they messed up that had gotten them caught. These offenders were called Lookers because of their specific offense of crossing over dimensions, also known as Dimencrime. Lookers used their unique ability to commit Dimencrime involving theft, vandalism, and in some cases, murder. Selina hadn't any idea how Lookers came to do what they did, but regardless, she was part of the Regulation, an agency tasked with keeping order.
While in the past, 'order' meant a steady hand over the citizens of NewEarth and Zormad in general, more recently the issue of Lookers had become a prominent concern for all interested in upholding the peace, fragile as it was.
Selina hopped in her bio sanitizing unit to get ready for the day. Stepping out a few moments later, she slipped into her uniform and munched on some breakfast rations before she headed down to her Precinct.
Earth had become untenable for some time, and a group of brighter minds had had the foresight and ability to focus energy on an evacuation. The response from many wasn't unlike what a certain Noah had gotten many centuries earlier, but once again, preparation and perception won out over disbelief.
A series of probes had pointed the human exodus mission to Zormad. With a climate close enough to Earth to be livable and a token offering of provisions to a world recovering from a great famine, the last of the human race were given a chance to start again on a system neither made for nor particularly happy with their presence.
Formerly a bustling system of industry, Zormad reeled from its most recent famine that left the choice of survival to those willing to do whatever to hoard the meager resources still left.
NewEarth consisted of a Network of cobbled together buildings, most of them constructed from the remnants of the former Ark Ship that humans traveled in to Zormad. The enormous craft languished in a state of progressive disassembly, its pieces gradually removed and arranged in Spartanesque towns of buildings with a definitive refugee motif in construction. The power reactor from the ship was also repurposed for town energy uses, and an agricultural area designated for crop production.
As awful as Zormad was for being a good or even decent destination for the last of Earth's human race, the original settlers of NewEarth remembered enough of their former home to know that even Zormad was a step ahead of the place they left behind.
Humans’ ability to somehow cultivate rudimentary crops in the Zormad soil gave them the basest of acceptance on a system still in a pandemic of want.
Within twenty years on Zormad, humans’ positions grew a little, and their initial baby steps on their adopted home grew in stride, where basic crop production continued on a small scale.
Chapter 2
Selina headed into the Regulation office but first stopped at the hydration port for a fill up of precious H20. One of the larger issues that remained for NewEarth, the arid land of Zormad left them scraping by for the aquatic sustenance they had in plenty on Earth. Selina was glad for her share from the Regulation office, which she gladly took away from the eyes of other NewEarth residents who still adjusted to the lower amount of water available overall.
Jared, her shift lieutenant, greeted Selina once she arrived. His burly frame slouched as he studied his hand-held digital readout screen of the latest report of Looker sightings. Among the sightings and crimes, a name surfaced over and over again: Malone. There wasn't so much as a face to go with the name, but he hadn't needed even that for the reputation he commanded.
“Morning, sir,” Selina muttered as she leaned in a bit to Jared.
Jared's eyes met hers. “That it is. Care to explain this business from your last shift, Officer Ravencraft?”
There it was. Her breakfast had barely started digesting, and Selina was given her first serving of crap for the day. The good Lieutenant referred to the sighting Selina worked where a Looker appeared with a set of stolen artifacts and vanished, but not before making off with her weapon as well.
Selina felt the back of her neck go cold. She'd been on a routine run about the market in the NewEarth colony. She remembered the hairs on her arm stood on end and a strange sound, like the fluttering of insect wings, and before she realized it, she was knocked to the ground, and her gun was yanked from her grasp. She got a look at the thief, a bluish glowing figure with long hair and a beard. He gave her a smirk before he pummeled her gut and vanished, leaving her with no weapon and even less of an explanation for her shift supervisor. “It's not like I handed it to him, ya know. He snuck me with a tase and laid me out before I could get a handle on 'em.”
Jared's mouth drew in a line. “Excuses, Ravencraft. Losing weaponry is bad enough, but when you're up against a Looker, you gotta be more careful than that. I know you're new here; how long has it been?”
“Six weeks.” Selina was amazed when she realized she’d already been with the Regulation that long. It seemed like she had joined the ranks yesterday. A lot of people had encouraged it, especially her mother. Even though her father Erick wasn't around, Selina knew he would've been for it as well, as much as he'd done for NewEarth. Erick had a lot to do with setting up NewEarth's initial structure and government. He was in the first group of humans to set foot on Zormad. While they were the legacy bearers of that blue-green ball of life humans had called home for centuries, Earth soon became the talk of stories on its journey into becoming more of a fairy tale than a physical world. For the subsequent generations of humans on Zormad, Earth became little more than a series of legends, lessons carried over from a world forgotten by necessity, abandoned by requirement. The early colony of NewEarth took a lot of effort and diplomacy, first in managing to secure a location in the Zormad wilderness and to make contact with the locals and establish a presence. Through a combination of a little effort and much more persistence and stubbornness, humans forged a fragile but establishing presence on their new home.
Erick helped establish the Regulation, and even helped humans make inroads with their neighbors on Zormad
. Selina figured it was her turn to chip in and make sure she did what her father would've wanted her to do. However, being daughter to someone like Erick also involved an eternal stay within a shadow of accomplishment, and Selina dreaded the day she was measured up to what dear old dad pulled off in his life, even though his was cut short when he was killed in a raid of NewEarth by Railen.
Jared offered a smile and patted her shoulder. He didn't have to be a clairvoyant to know Selina's history, and he always admired her resolve. “OK, Selina. Six weeks is still kinda green. But you've gotta understand, losing a weapon is serious. We have enough problems now without more tech getting into the hands of Lookers.”
“I know, I know. There's just so much to keep track of, with the Railen and the Omegans milling around.” Selina shrugged.
Jared's nodded. “Yeah, the Railen and Omegan fight has gone on way longer than our being here, but there's a good chance we'll catch some of that action too.” He smiled. “I thought you had a lot of promise, giving who your dad was and all, and you were one of the best out of Training we'd seen in a while. Maybe, though, we rushed getting you out there solo.”
“I made the cut, Jared, top level on marksmanship and tactics, and even your best boys couldn't dust me on the track.” Even saying the word, Selina thought about how silly it was. The 'track' for NewEarth was essentially the perimeter of the colony, a decent 10 miles in distance, but long enough that all of the Regulation got more than a healthy workout running it.
“Selina, you got the fundamentals down, no doubt. But this job's about more than checking off a PT list. Our work's 98% instinct, and that doesn't come with a quick course time. There's plenty to throw down on out there. You need to have a solid grasp of the world we're in now. Trust me, there's any number of people, especially the Mardak, who'd love to blame any old problem they have on us. Remember, we're the outsiders. Any problem that gets pinned on us is way harder to disprove.” Jared chewed his lip. His eyes spun off in thought for a moment before a glimmer popped and he gave Selina a smile. “I know what.”
As new as Selina was, she already knew when Jared or any of her superiors flashed the look like Jared's face showed right then, it was from an idea, and any of these were things she never enjoyed much, if at all.
“You're getting a partner. I'm setting you up with Wexan.”
Selina felt her gut tighten and the roots of indigestion taking hold. “Really. You're gonna put me with one of them... now?”
Jared squared his shoulders. “Wexan's a decorated vet with over fifteen years steady service.”
“He's also a Mardak.” Selina folded her arms.
The Mardak were the primary race of Zormad when humans established NewEarth on the system two decades earlier. In that time humans managed a more or less fragile peace with the Mardak and other visiting beings. However, with the issue of the Lookers on the rise, and Railen and Omegan posturing nearing lethal levels, tensions flared more each passing day.
The sentient races on Zormad like the Mardaks had, through decades of a lifestyle of plenty, grown more accustomed to an existence of receiving than of creating and giving when it came to the basics for survival. The famine left the more adaptable with the choice of what they were willing to do to live until the next week and beyond.
“Selina, I don't care what you think or believe about Mardaks. We've got way bigger problems to worry about.”
Selina swallowed hard. She knew what Jared meant. In addition to the Lookers, and the turf war the Railen and Omegans seemed hellbent on, there was also a strange virus that had been rampant in the Galaxy. The contacts NewEarth made with the Mardaks on Zormad referred to it as “Veculus”. They weren't exactly sure how it was transmitted, but humans were given plenty of warning and threats by the Mardaks, enough that gave humans the idea Mardaks considered them to blame for the strange illness.
Jared glanced up at a screen on the wall that displayed counts of NewEarth residents. It was both a status update and a goal, the silent hope of all in the Regulation that the number of NewEarth only increased over time. “It's not the time to be relaxed. The Mardaks aren't exactly thrilled we're here to begin with.”
“What's that word they use for us?”
“Xeno. And you best get used to that, 'cause that's what everyone thinks of us. Dirty, stinky Xeno, who infected Ling Galaxy. Even with the regular shipments of crops we're sending to Tas Ralong and other towns, Mardak are dying to use any reason to remove us, up to and including blaming crimes and Veculus on us. We've gotta make a show of good faith to them that we're on their side working these problems in earnest.”
Selina shrugged. “Yes, sir.”
Chapter 3
Tas Ralong jut out of the powdery dry land just to the east of NewEarth. Its wide array of streets snaked around large collections of buildings that thrust from the sandy floor like appendages of someone buried alive. While some structures soared several hundred feet into the air, others were humbler in appearance.
Once a prominent center of industry, Tas Ralong and its wide collection of denizens had since been well on a collective journey down the path toward oblivion. That trip lingered along enough so the devious had plenty of chances for swindles and cons before all life was truly sucked from the land. Tas Ralong was also a good place to go if you wanted to hide, provided you weren't out for trouble you weren't able to handle. A large number of smugglers and soldiers for hire found its somewhat loose concern for the law a nice amenity, similar to several other outlying systems in Ling Galaxy. Syndicates, groups of smugglers organized into even more disreputable fronts of villainy, hung their banners freely, especially on the Trading Markets that provided the closest thing to a sustainable economy Zormad had seen in many years. To the outsider, Tas Ralong had a feel of a great metropolis that had missed the memo about its obsolescence long ago.
The towering buildings still offered a good amount of occupancy, but the industry that once powered the town had mostly gone away, leaving a once proud but now crumbled infrastructure, where the economy of greed and the industry of the quick and questionable trading markets ruled supreme.
The Regulation of NewEarth had begun a cooperation with the Mardak Sentries. The Regulation assisted the Mardak patrols of Tas Ralong in exchange for a slightly better attitude by the Mardaks about several thousand putrid earthlings chewing up miles of real estate on Zormad. Together with the crop sharing gesture, it moved the needle on the Mardak attitude about humans a hair more toward the tolerance side, for some Mardaks anyway. As a slight gesture in response, the Mardaks forced the Sentries who were paired with officers of the Regulation to learn basic English, which did two things: it created a group of Mardaks who spoke choppy and broken English, and it gave certain Mardaks even more reason to hate humans.
Selina and Wexan's introduction was handled without much pomp at all. She hated the quickness she was handed off to this assignment, and from Wexan's surly glance, she figured the feeling was mutual. They faced each other outside the Mardak Sentry post near a line of street patrol craft.
Wexan took his time notating things on his personal tablet device, then looked back at Selina. “What are you, ten years old?”
“I'm 25, dude. Nice shape you're in. Guess you don't miss many meals, including other people’s?”
Wexan grunted with a glare. “Listen, Xeno. In NewEarth you do anything your little Xeno mind wants. Here in Tas Ralong, you do what I say. I got enough to worry about without a Xeno messing things up.”
Selina swallowed and shook her head slightly. The sooner her shift ended, the better.
Wexan nodded toward a hover patrol vehicle. “Let's go.”
The next fifteen minutes of their shift went down mostly in silence. Neither was crazy about breaking the void with conversation, when the only starters that came to mind were things like “How soon can your kind get the hell off my system?” or “Why do Mardaks smell that bad; is it genetic or do you have to work at it?”
As a distrac
tion from chatting, Selina checked the HUD in her helmet. The Regulation wore special digivisors that provided real time info on all creatures that came into view. Another aspect of the agreement with the Mardak allowed the HUD in Regulation gear to be loaded with the latest Mardak data on criminal activity.
Passersby on the paths near the street were identified on sight, and if the individual had any warrants, a reddish block appeared next to them along with an alert message to the wearer of the Digivisor. It was then up to them to figure out the best way to apprehend the person, how much force was necessary, and how much of a risk was involved.
Once she'd exhausted all reasonable excuses for ignoring her new partner, Selina decided work was the best topic. She looked at the Mardaks and other beings who walked on the street while her HUD cascaded updates on each that passed across her viewpane. “So, heard about any criminals here these days?”
Wexan snorted and coughed. For a second Selina, wondered if that was going to be his only contribution, but he soon found his gravelly voice. “Utility theft's the big problem. Stealing converters, energy supplies. Really putting a strain on what's left here.”
“Any idea who's involved?” Selina asked. “What about the Syndicates?”
“No, that's too small for them. They're into Essence and bigger prizes like bulk vehicle hauls, UA Credit theft.”
Selina nodded. The most widely accepted currency in Ling Galaxy, UA Credits were guaranteed on all worlds within the Universal Alliance and therefore were one of the preferred currencies of the criminal minded. This was especially the case on Zormad, where basic citizens were only concerned with their own survival. Groups like the Syndicates dealt in UA Credits at the trading markets that held space in every major town on the system.
“What about Dimencrime; seen any in Tas Ralong lately?”
Xeno Reckoning: An Interstellar War Story (The Essence Wars Book 1) Page 1