Shaa’s lip curled in contempt, and the unnamed Yollin recoiled. Shaa spoke, his voice stronger, more certain, than the Yollin’s. “This is true. But it is also weak. And where has it led you?” he exclaimed, referring to the fact that the Yollins were already absorbed into the Federation.
Shaa turned from the dissenting Yollin, and addressed the others present. “And how long before you need to pledge your allegiance with more than just signing an agreement?” he demanded. “How long before your troops are committed to their cause? Your sons and daughters sent to fight their siblings because the Federation says so? In the same way that our Yollin friend has become subjugated.”
There was some more awkward shifting around the table. Many of the guests dropped their eyes to the table in an attempt to avoid being pulled into responding. One official, looking Noel-ni, readjusted his position, and made a strange barking sound, like a cough. He carefully turned his head from Shaa’s direction to avoid it being misinterpreted as communication.
Shaa’s eyes flicked in his direction, but seemed to become distracted by his own internal dialog. “No, something must be done. And there is a plan already in place.”
Shaa poked at a panel on the wall, and a holo opened in the center of the conference table. “How many times has the Federation thwarted your plans by imposing trade sanctions, or keeping your ships from moving through controlled areas of space?”
Shaa looked from the hologram to a Cubert standing just opposite his current line of sight. His chair was pushed back, allowing him to stand upright at the table, bringing him to the same height as the others. The Cubert twitched uncomfortably, but held Shaa’s gaze.
Shaa continued. “How many times have they intervened in your affairs, preventing you from making profit in your own system?” He looked to the dignified-looking Yaree sitting next to him, who immediately shifted his eyes down, respectfully. Shaa was unperturbed. “Well I say ‘no more’. We have already embarked upon a series of campaigns to take out not their whole armada, but strategic targets.”
Shaa set about pacing again, his voice filling the room and the heads of his compatriots. “To begin with, we will indeed be nothing but a thorn in their enormous side; but eventually, with continued support and persistence across all opposing nations, we can make a stand.” He paused his pacing and turned back to the group. His voice was determined. “We will make a change. We will prevail.”
He moved the holoscreen on through his prepared presentation. “Take this case for consideration. This is the QBS Tornado. Just a run-of-the-mill personnel carrier; but when the Federation heard of the situation with our friends, the Leath, they decided to intervene, and kidnapped the workers who we were negotiating with. As we speak, our fighters are on their way to correct the situation, and redress the balance of power in the negotiations to meet our brothers’ demands.”
The holo ran a simulation of the passenger ship being destroyed by Zhyn fighters; fighters that Shaa controlled.
The room fell deathly silent as the onlookers watched the demonstration of power in horror.
Chapter 7
Ansan Settlement, Northern Province, Teshov
The settlement was quiet. There were hints of life here and there: water catchment devices, covered over with newly disturbed sand; the odd scuffling at a window; a door suddenly closing quietly, just out of the corner of one’s eye.
Giles and Sean made their way through the myriad of makeshift mud huts, keeping their eyes peeled for any signs of danger.
A snake shifted its way across their path, and disappeared behind a building.
Sean looked to Giles. “Suppose that’s an omen?”
Giles shook his head. “You’ve been watching too many Indiana Jones movies. That was just an angoma. Native to this region – and a delicacy, I believe,” he added humorously.
Sean frowned. “Aren’t you the mythology guy, though? The one who sees patterns in coincidences, and spends his time bumming around the galaxy, sampling different religions?”
Giles smiled, still scanning the area carefully. “So you have heard of me, then?”
Sean ignored the comment and kept walking.
Giles seemed to have found his bearings. “This way,” he announced suddenly, starting off in a slightly different direction through the cluster of habitations. Sean took off after him, quickening his pace, and trying not to make so much noise as he pounded across the slightly more solid sand that was underfoot.
Giles slowed when he came across the hut he had been looking for. “This is it,” he mouthed quietly.
There was the bang of a door behind them. Both men jumped and turned. They waited, Sean with his weapon raised. Nothing moved. They turned back to the hut only to see movement behind the fiberglass window. Sean motioned for Giles to go ahead, and indicated that he’d cover him from behind.
Giles edged forward, and then, making up his mind that he just needed to do this, he strode up to the door. He raised his hand and gently rapped on the wooden paneling.
There was movement inside, but no response.
He knocked again. “It’s Giles. Giles Kurns. I’m looking for Robin.”
There was a scuffling behind the door, and Giles took half a step back. The door handle turned, opening the door a crack. Giles tried to peer into the darkness, and, as his eyes adjusted, there was a flicker of recognition. He turned and signaled Sean to come over, and heard Sean traipsing up behind him as he turned back to face the door.
“Greetings, Robin. Long time…” he said carefully, trying to gauge how he was being received.
The door opened a little more to reveal a rather tired looking Estarian. Clearly, he’d seen better days and was unsuited to the climate or the lifestyle here. And yet, he had the air of someone who was fated to live like this; like he was used to it, but had memories of a place, of a life, that was far removed from here.
“Giles!” he exclaimed quietly, almost congenially.
Sean lowered his weapon.
Giles turned to introduce Sean. “This is my associate, Sean Roya-”
Giles glanced back at the Estarian, to see him holding a pistol trained on Sean. “Robin, it’s okay! He’s with me.”
A ferocity gathered on his face like a storm. “The hell he is. He and his little team are the reason I’m back in this fucking hellhole.”
Giles looked confused. And terrified.
Sean remained motionless, but pointing his blaster at the Estarian in the doorway.
“Guys!” Giles interrupted, his hands out, shaking and palms down. “We don’t need to do this. Let’s just go inside and talk.”
The Estarian twitched. Sean didn’t hesitate.
BAM.
Sean shot him.
The blaster propelled the Estarian back inside the hut, the sound ringing out through the settlement. There was a scurry of unseen activity in the neighboring huts, and hushed, panicked whispers.
Giles shook his head at Sean, mortified. “Shit, Royale.”
Giles pushed his way through the doorway to find his friend on the floor. He squatted down to help him, realizing with some relief that he was still alive. He reached for the wound on the Estarian’s left shoulder, trying to stop the bleeding. He was so preoccupied, he didn’t see Robin raise his other hand with the pistol in it.
There was another shot from the blaster, and the Estarian’s entire left arm disappeared in a bloody mess.
Giles jumped back, shocked and splattered with blood. It took several moments for the ripple of horror to leave his body, allowing him to process what had just happened.
Gathering his wits, he turned to see Sean inside the doorway, holding his blaster. “The fuck?!” Giles shouted back at Royale.
Sean shrugged. “He was going to shoot me. I had to stop him. Plus,” he flicked a switch on the weapon and put the safety on, “he’s a wanted criminal in the Inner System. He goes by several names; one of which is ‘Mac Kerr’. His crimes
were horrendous.”
Giles felt sick to his stomach and was still in shock, trying to absorb what had just happened. He had blood on his hands, and though he had been intent on stopping the bleeding, it was now a null task.
He scrambled up from his spot next to the dismembered body. “You’re an asshole,” he growled as he got to his feet. “That was my friend,” he said, pointing, stepping around the body to move further into the hut.
Sean rolled his eyes. “You mean, your ‘frenemy’?” he corrected, watching Giles disappear into another section of the hut.
Giles now moved quickly and with purpose. He first went to the kitchen and started washing the blood from his hands and face. Then he wiped down his atmosuit jacket and tidied himself up.
Next, he started searching through the rest of the hut, intent on finding the prize they had come for. “You gonna help me look or just stand there?” he shot across to Sean, who had pulled the body further into the hut, and closed the door. Sean looked out of the window, checking for any signs of life.
“Sure,” he responded. “But we don’t have long. That was two shots fired. I’m pretty sure it’s only a matter of time before the locals or the heavies get wind of the news, and come to even the score.”
Giles pulled his head out of a cubbyhole in the wall. “I’ll say,” he agreed, putting his hand inside and feeling around for a switch or a trap door, anything that might give away where the amulet was being held.
“Shit,” he exclaimed, sitting back on his haunches. “Robin was the only one who knew where the damn talisman is.”
Sean shook his head as he searched the surfaces and cubbyholes built into the mud hut. “You’re delusional if you honestly think that someone who tried to have you killed was going to just hand over something that you traveled across the galaxy to retrieve.”
Sean kept his eyes scanning and his hands moving, checking deftly and professionally, just as Giles had been doing. His blaster tapped against the back of his legs every now and again as it lay strung over his back, ready for action at the slightest sound of a threat.
Giles scowled in Sean’s direction. “You don’t know that. And now we’ll never know,” he added poignantly. He slumped back against the cubby he had just been searching, his legs outstretched in front of him. “We’re fucked. That was our only fucking lead.”
Sean ignored the sentiment and kept searching.
Gaitune-67, Hangar Deck
The Empress was ready to leave the hangar deck, locked and loaded. The normal air of camaraderie and excitement had been replaced with a general anxiety about the impending mission.
Maya had sat next to Jack upon boarding, feeling that she needed something to take her mind off what she was about to do.
Jack had appreciated the company, but wasn’t about to get into a girly heart-to-heart about life regrets and shit. That just wasn’t how she executed missions. Eyes on the prize, she told herself as the engines fired up and the remaining team members scuffled to take their seats and buckle up.
“You ready for this?” Maya asked sympathetically.
Jack frowned and nodded once. “Of course. This is what I’ve been trained for. This is what we do.”
Maya trained her eyes straight ahead of her, conscious not to push it. Jack was strong. And proud.
And the last person she wanted to piss off.
Paige glanced over to her from the other side of the cabin where she sat with Pieter. She smiled weakly, understanding what Maya was trying to do.
Crash’s voice came over the intercom. “A warm welcome back to our frequent flyers. Today, you have qualified for platinum status; the prize for which is an all-expenses-paid trip to the ass-end of nowhere, where you will be invited to bomb the fuck out of a rogue space terrorist. If you would like to decline this option, please talk to your flight attendant now. Otherwise, sit back, relax, and enjoy the rest of the trip. Your planet thanks you for your service.”
There were a few giggles and chuckles at the announcement, and The Empress lifted up off the deck.
In the cockpit, Brock was concentrating hard, listening to the ship as she took off. “You can feel the extra weight, can’t you?” he said to Crash, his eyes darting over to gauge Crash’s reaction.
Crash nodded.
Emma’s voice filled the cockpit. “I can indeed. Though I understand that gentlemen should not comment on a lady’s weight. Ever.”
Brock chuckled. “When did you get a sense of humor?” he asked her.
“Boy, I’ve had a sense of humor since before you were born!” she retorted.
Brock shook his head gently as he pulled at his harness, checking it was secure. “But seriously,” he persisted, concern playing around his eyes. “Is this extra weight going to be an issue?”
Emma flicked on her video feed on his console. She shook her computer-generated head. “Nope. It’s an extra strain on take off, but once we’re moving, we’ll be fine. We just need to take it into account when we come out of warp, as we’ll have a little extra momentum.”
Crash was intently focused on his console and taking The Empress out of the hanger. He didn’t show any signs of even hearing the conversation.
Brock needed to make sure it was handled, though. He frowned and leaned forward, toward her video image. “So, you’re doing all those calcs and stuff, so that he doesn’t have to, right?” He thumbed over in Crash’s direction.
Emma nodded. “You bet your sweet ass I am!” she told him.
Brock’s shoulders dropped as he relaxed and sat back in his seat. “Well, okay, then,” he surrendered.
Aboard The Empress, Near Chom-X9
Within half an hour, they were pulling out of warp, the teams each in position.
Joel looked over at Jack. “You sure you want to do this?” he checked with her.
She glanced back at him. “Bit late for second thoughts now,” she smiled nervously underneath the bravado.
Joel adjusted his seating position awkwardly. “Well, that’s probably true,” he agreed.
Emma came on over The Little Empress’s intercom. “Okay, boys and girls, we’re out of warp. Dock doors opening. Please start your engines, and be ready to reverse out slowly. And I mean slowly. No showing off.”
Joel and Jack flicked immediately into ops mode. Jack set a bunch of switches, and Joel checked his instruments before starting the engine of The Little Empress. Both their faces were expressionless.
Joel’s hand hesitated over a holocontrol.“Do we have permission to fire as soon as we get a clear shot?” he checked with Emma.
“Affirmative,” she responded. “You’re cleared to engage at will. This is your op until we collect you. Leave the comms open; I’ll be on the link for both ships to coordinate.”
A moment later, The Little Empress reversed out of the dock of The Empress, a baby spaceship being birthed from its mother.
Jack’s expression turned stern. “Weapons online and locked on target,” she confirmed. “Approximate distance from target, 8300km.”
Joel checked a couple of dials, and straightened up as he watched The Empress pull away and then disappear into thin air. “We’re on our own now,” he said, the feeling of dread behind his words hanging suspended in the air.
“Let’s do this,” he added, trying to disperse the spell he had just cast with his idle comment.
Chom-X9, War Room
Former-Lord High Marshall Shaa had taken a seat at the head of the table in the only console chair in the room. He sat back, arrogant about the power he held, almost daring someone in the room to challenge him.
It was true. This was a recruiting mission; a drive to bring investors and allies on board. But to show weakness or any hint of it being an equal partnership right now, in these early stages, was to set the stage for discontent later.
No. Better to show them who’s pulling the strings upfront. Then they’ll be under no illusions as to how this will to play ou
t.
“Allow me to share something else,” Shaa said, changing the direction of his discourse. “As you are probably aware, I have long been an advocate of staying ahead of the technology curve. When I ruled the Zhyn Empire, I had the foresight to develop a new computing language that would remain a secret from the Federation. It allowed us to conduct our business in private, as well as fortified us against their cyber intrusions.”
He pulled up another screen for them. All eyes in the room moved from Shaa to the new hologram appearing in the center of the table.
“Today, you are witnessing an extension of the commitment we made to stay ahead of the curve. The base has just been alerted, through traditional radar means, of a ship that has entered into our space. However, we were aware many minutes ago that this ship was on its way, via our advanced early warning system. Now we have confirmation of its presence, we are adequately prepared to defend ourselves.”
Silence fell on the room as Shaa shifted forward to perch in his seat. He drew a deep breath, admiring the image onscreen of the ship that had just made it into their firing range.
The voice of the Yaree off to his right interrupted his thoughts. “But how do they even know you’re here? We thought this place was off-grid?”
Shaa didn’t answer the inquiry. He didn’t even glance up to acknowledge the questioner. Instead, he connected his holo with the control room. “Lock on!” he instructed.
The control room came on over the conference room audio feed. “Locked on, sir.”
“Fire!” came the order from Shaa.
The guests watched intently, acutely aware that they were no longer watching a simulation, but a real feed of anti-spacecraft guns firing upward into the orbit of the planet, at the ship that had just appeared.
Shaa looked very satisfied with himself. “This literally is the case of ‘forearmed is forewarned’.” He chuckled at his own joke, oblivious to the horror in the eyes of those watching from around the table.
The Ascension Myth Box Set Page 117
