“What is that?” Wren shouted as they all covered their ears. “Who’s on the communications relay?”
“People of the Starways, I am Urusous Li, your loyal son, and I have returned.”
“How is he doing this?” Wren said, running over to the communication relay.
Jetta took in her old enemy. Standing in front of a red and black flag bearing the symbol of a bird and prey, Li sported the same brazen smile and air of self-righteousness she remembered from their first encounter,
Something’s different, she thought, trying understand her gut reaction.
Did he always have those scars? Jaeia responded, tapping into her sights.
Jetta zoned in on her sister’s observation. Faint scars criss-crossed the skin around Li’s right eye, and a new deformation partially closed his ear on the same side.
No, those are new.
“I think I’ve seen those kind of scars before, and that symbol,” Jaeia whispered, forehead knitting.
Jetta tuned into her sister’s thoughts, helping Jaeia search their collective memories for a connection to the red and black flag.
Fiorah—no. The Dominion Core? A borrowed memory—no. The Alliance? The old USC? A Contact mission—an SMT operation? Where have I seen it?
Heart thumping in her chest, Jetta felt a sense of dread looming over her as Li continued his speech.
Oh Gods—
Jetta saw it first as Jaeia replayed the memory: the flash of his ring as he saluted with his martini glass, his diamond-toothed smile making her heart stop in her chest.
The same symbol etched in black gold.
Victor.
“He’s on every channel, Sir,” a crewman said. “He’s jammed the entire wave network. I don’t know how he’s doing it, but he’s everywhere.”
“I come to you with a promise,” Li said. “The Alliance has failed to protect you from the threat of the Deadwalkers, and it has failed to secure the homelands. Under my banner, I promise peace—”
“What the hell?” Jetta exclaimed as her sleeve vibrated.
“I have it, too,” Jaeia whispered.
Side by side, they accepted the alert.
Not much time, the message read. Input this sequence or you all will perish at the right hand of the devil.
A numerical sequence followed, as did a subroutine for a security lockout.
“What is this?” Jetta said.
“I don’t know,” Jaeia said, looking more closely. “But it looks like a defense patch for our systems.”
“...pledge your allegiance to the Galactic Republic and be promised life, liberty, and the pursuit of wealth—” Li proclaimed in the background.
“Can you turn that thing off?” Wren shouted to his crew.
“Right hand of the devil...” Jaeia muttered.
“Can we trust the source of this message? What if it is Victor—what if it’s a trick?” Jetta said as Jaeia ran over to an open terminal.
After wiping the debris off the screen, her sister downloaded the patch from her sleeve. “I think it’s her again,” Jaeia said, concentration trained on the data transfer.
“You mean... our mother?”
“Yes.”
“How can you be sure?” Jetta asked.
“I can’t,” Jaeia said, fingers racing across the keyboard. “It’s just a feeling.”
Li’s voice boomed over the airwaves. “...and to prove to you the corruption and conspiracy that saturates our current governing body, I give you the Alliance’s answer to their enemies: the Sleeper Program.”
Jetta’s attention snapped to the viewscreen as the gruesome footage of the surgical procedures used to make a Sleeper Agent played out. Awake but paralyzed, the subjects, children and adult alike, lay helplessly as drills bored into their skulls.
“Gods have mercy,” Wren whispered.
Unable to look away, Jetta watched as tears streamed from the victims’ eyes and pooled into the blood collecting around their heads. Next, robotic-assisted arms fed guidewires through the cranial hole, burrowing deep into the exposed gray matter. Smoke curled up to the lights as an overhead locking system unleashed an electrical current.
So many people, Jaeia said across their bond.
Faces of all the victims cycled through. Jetta didn’t recognize any except for one.
Agracia—
“That last victim you saw was Admiral Unipoesa’s own daughter, his own flesh and blood, whom he turned into a Sleeper because she failed to measure up to his standards,” Li said. “Tell me, if your leaders can abandon and dispose of their own children, then what do you think will happen to the rest of you?”
He took on an even grander tone. “If you choose to remain with the Alliance, you align yourself with an impotent Fleet and sadistic, incompetent leadership. But if you choose life and liberty, the Galactic Republic welcomes you under her flag.”
Stunned and horrified, Jetta could barely form the thoughts to share with her sister. This is so much worse than I could have ever imagined.
I know, Jaeia replied, steering all her efforts into the transfer on the terminal interface.
“Sir—we’re being hailed,” one of the crewman announced.
“Put it in,” Wren said.
“Gaeshin Wren,” Li said, sneering. “Another pathetic CCO. Oh—and look—the diabolical twins of the apocalypse. I’m not impressed.”
Jetta peeked over at her sister. Faster, Jaeia.
Then stop pestering me, she said. At least buy me some time.
“Urusous Li, you’re under arrest,” Wren said. Jetta admired him for maintaining his composure. “Lay down your arms and—”.
“Chief, I just saved your hides and this is the thanks I get?” Li said, acting hurt. “The Deadwalkers are retreating. You’re safe—for now.”
Just as she moved to position herself in front of the viewscreen to address Li, Jetta’s breath hitched in her chest. A distant light in the back of her mind raced toward her, spearing into her with a thousand voices concentrated into just one. Her arms and legs exploded with electric current, invigorating her senses. I know what we have to do.
“Can you network that defense patch?” Jetta said, stumbling over to her sister, arms and legs tingling as the effect died down.
“I’m trying, but it’s going to take some time,” Jaeia said. “Whatever Li did to tap into the wave network and our communications systems has jammed our ship-to-ship transmission.”
“I’m only going to say this one more time. Lay down your arms and prepare to be boarded,” Wren asserted.
“Your warships are no match for my Fleet,” Li said, goading the CCO.
What? Jetta thought, trying to understand Li’s angle. He’s got nothing more than a handful of fighters and a few refurbished frigates from the pre-Dominion era.
Stupefied, Wren pointed out what seemed obvious: “One of my warliners could easily take down your ‘Fleet,’ Li, let alone my entire legion of warships.”
A look of satisfaction crossed Li’s face. “I have been waiting for this moment for a long time,” he hissed just before his image winked out.
“I want him in the brig in less than an hour,” Wren said calmly, taking a seat in the command chair. “Ready arms and target the lead frigate.”
“Just one more second—” Jaeia said, hunching over the terminal.
But as the tactician targeted their armament, the lights dimmed, and Jaeia’s console went dead.
“Status?” Wren said.
“All systems offline,” the helmsmen announced. “We’re running on backup life-support.”
Jumping terminal to terminal, Jetta tried to reboot the interface. “What happened?”
Jaeia cursed under her breath, hands in her hair. “I thought I downloaded it in time.”
A split second later, the power came back on, and the ship rumbled as the turrets fired.
“Systems back online, but shields are down to 20 percent,” the helmsman said. “Recharging. Sir, the en
emy has opened fire.”
“The other warships—” Jaeia whispered.
Li’s ships fired, targeting the main drives of the Alliance warships. With shields rendered inoperative and power down, most were destroyed with a single volley. More explosions rocked nearby battleships and destroyers, setting off a chain reaction.
“Why aren’t their shields up? Why aren’t they returning fire?” Wren shouted above the din.
“They’ve infiltrated our defense systems,” Jaeia said.
“Why aren’t we down?”
“Because I downloaded a patch. I don’t know if anybody else in our network is protected.”
“Concentrate all fire on their frigates,” Wren said.
“Sir, my guidance system is offline,” the tactical officer said.
Jetta pushed him aside and manually entered the coordinates to the frigate, relaying on her intuition for the numbers. “Firing.”
No match for the weapons of the Alliance flagship, the lead frigate went down on the first hit. The rest of the rogue fleet retreated behind Tellemikas, charging up their drives.
“Sir, the enemy ships have engaged their jump cycle,” one of the crewman reported.
“Pursue and destroy!” Wren commanded.
“They’re outside targetable range, and engines are still offline,” the navigations officer replied.
“Send the fighters,” Wren tried.
“Communications aren’t up yet,” Jetta said, working the console next to her sister.
The bridge crew watched helplessly as the rogue fleet jumped away in a flash of light.
“Godich,” Wren said under his breath. Neither twin had ever seen him so emotional.
Jetta left her station to speak privately with the chief commanding officer. “Sir, the engines are offline, but the jump drive is still operational. Jaeia and I could take a fighter and manually upload the defense patch to the other remaining starcraft while the Star Runner returns to the Central Starbase and uploads it to the rest of the interior Fleet.”
Wren pursed his lips. “Make it happen, Commander.”
“How did things turn out like this?” Jetta asked, heading towards the lift shaft as Jaeia trailed behind.
Jaeia waited to answer until after they’d reached the docking bay. “I don’t know.”
The only ship undamaged by the initial impact was a two-man stealth fighter. As Jetta loaded up, Jaeia stopped her. “I’m afraid, Jetta. This doesn’t feel right.”
“I know, but we don’t have any other choice. Come on, Jae,” Jetta said, popping on her helmet. “Time is against us.”
Jaeia zipped into a pilot’s suit and jumped into the cockpit next to her sister, downloading the defense patch as Jetta ran through checks.
“You’re not driving. You’re a terrible driver,” Jaeia said, trying to take over the controls as Jetta hit the ignition.
“Like hell you are,” Jetta said, wrenching free and clipping the edge of the bay door. Sensing her sister holding back a chuckle, Jetta grumbled. “Don’t you say a word.”
Instead of responding with a jibe, Jaeia’s face blanched.
“Hey, are you okay?” Jetta asked.
Her twin coughed violently, clutching her chest. “We’re not doing so well, are we?” she wheezed.
“No, we aren’t. Just like old times, though, right?” Jetta said, thinking of their last few months on Fiorah.
“Jetta,” Jaeia started. She paused while she contacted the damaged warship stuck in the orbit around Tellemikas. “I don’t want to give up. Not now. Not when there’s a chance.”
Jetta looked at her sister, and though she couldn’t see her sister’s eyes through her visor, she felt the longing in her heart. “I know.”
The com screeched and whined. Jetta tapped the signature waiting approval, noting its foreign source.
“Track it?”
“On it,” Jaeia said.
Jetta accepted the call, and the top right subscreen flickered to life.
“Warchild.”
“Victor,” Jaeia said.
His seamless pink face and unusual glass lenses took Jetta aback, though she wasn’t sure why. As she tried to rein in her own fears, her sister’s conflicted emotions boiled in the back of her mind, adding to her own growing discomfort.
“You’ve met the new commander of my military, yes?” he said.
“Urusous Li is commanding your military?”
“Well, of course. The balance of power in the Starways is changing. This is a time for real leadership.”
“Who are you?” Jetta interrupted.
“No,” Victor said, tilting his head, “The question is, who are you?”
Jetta looked at her twin. “What the hell do you want, Victor? Because once we’re done with Li I’m coming after you.”
Victor clicked his tongue and wagged his finger. “Another sowed you, your mother birthed you, but I gave you your soul.”
Suddenly furious, Jetta extended herself, reaching out and into Victor, ready to devour him with her talent. Jaeia screamed, but it was too late.
Caught up in the black tide of his mind, Jetta was swept down and away, further and further from herself as reality splintered. Her mind crossed boundaries she didn’t know existed, physical, psionic, and beyond any known realm, until she came to a place without time. The past fused with the present and future while voices in the background narrated the doom of the human race in a language she had never heard before, but implicitly understood.
Scenes from ancient times threaded together. Long spears and arrows flew through the air as swords clashed and axes cut into bone. Hollow eyes and a serpentine smile looked down upon the never-ending battle as the blood of forgotten men painted battlefields red. Weapons changed from stones to blades to guns and armored cars, winged fighters, and suborbital ships, but the dark force behind it did not, poisoning malleable minds with hatred.
Images shifted and reformed. Jetta saw a man tied to a post, tortured by gray, faceless assailants, pleading for death. Different people—men, women and children—suffered the same fate as centuries passed, the same atrocity committed over and over again until she lost count.
Jetta tried to turn away, but everywhere she looked were their pleading eyes, faces upturned as their tormentors cut away their flesh bit by bit.
Unable to catch her breath or slow the hammering of her heart, Jetta sank to her knees and covered her face, trying to separate herself from the serpentine smile that pervaded the dark realm. Even with her eyes closed, Jetta saw the dead eyes that masked its true identity and heard its silver tongue whispering untruths to the weak and wounded.
—kill or be killed—
—strip down your enemy—
—condemn them to Hell—
Why don’t they see? she wondered.
Droves of ill-gotten memories pushed through her mind. Jetta witnessed men and women, blind and hobbled, submitting themselves to false Gods. Screaming and chanting on their knees, they called out to different deities over the ages, but the lord they sought had only one name.
(My name.)
Did she think that—or did someone whisper it to her? Jetta tried to pull back, but found herself stuck fast, unable to turn around or see her way out.
(With eyes open, they burn,) rang out over and over again in her mind as she fought to right her senses.
The final moments of Earth scorched her eyes, mushroom clouds and explosions marring the horizon. Panicked screams erupted as the sky turned black and the day to night, and the world ended in a blaze of fire.
Confused and disoriented, Jetta no longer understood her own feelings. Even though she felt repulsed and frightened by the breadth of death and destruction she had witnessed over the course of human existence, a poisonous undertow capsized her conscience.
There is such power here, she realized, unable to surface from the timeless, inhuman well of Victor’s mind. The nightmarish memory of the Deadwalker collective grazed her awareness, only
to be dismissed. (This is a thousand fold of what they offered me.)
Ambivalence wormed its way into her heart, awakening unpalatable needs as she kneeled upon the charred remains of Earth. (I want his power.)
Did she think that? Or was it some terrible thing inside her wanting to connect with the dark tethers of Victor’s mind?
No, it isn’t like that, Jetta told herself. I can take him. All of him. I am strong enough to bear his wickedness.
With Victor’s knowledge and her talent, she could right the Sentient races of the Starways. The citizens of the Starways are weak, driven by vanity and desires of the flesh, she decided. I have the wisdom of a thousand ages. With me in control, there would be no more senseless violence; there would be strict order and peace.
Jetta dug her hands into the ashes of the Earth, squeezing until blood ran between her fingers. After all, it’s always the same—one warring faction against the other, brutality ruling over the weak. But that will end with me.
She would take charge, and she alone would cast judgment. Needless death and destruction would cease. Punishment and fairness would be hers to decide. And should enemies arise, she would devour them, even if it meant hurting someone she loved.
(Jaeia. Jahx.) Unable to remember anything but the pain of Victor’s world, Jetta closed off her heart. (They are ignorant, and if they can’t see my way, then I will terrorize their minds with the bleak truth. The Starways needs a ruler, and I will be the one to rule.)
The ashes shifted and the ground rumbled. Knocked backwards by the jolt, Jetta tumbled down the heap of debris. Before she could right herself, shafts of light exploded from the ground.
Jetta covered her eyes, afraid of the light, but, sensing the warmth and radiance emanating from the source, dared a glance. From the ashes emerged an angel, a man with an immeasurable second shadow and an aura so bright that her heart sang. His eyes, kind and gentle, connected to a forgotten place within as the dark pull inside her yielded to his purifying light.
As he approached, he reached for her, luminescent skin shining in the dark of Victor’s world. Jetta reached back, only to bear the horror of what she had become. Black, scaled and hideous, she didn’t recognize her own skin. Terrified, she tried to stop herself as she sunk her claws into the man. His light faded and his skin eroded, transforming him into something inhuman.
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