“Sim’Ra…”
Sim’Ra flipped a few pages in disinterest. “Ah!” He stopped at a page. “My favorite part,” he pursed his lips in fake sincerity. “I am sorry, brother. But as a follower of human art and history, I believe you would understand my logic. Today, you will be Remus, and I will be your Romulus. And this,” he threw the book aside and raised the spear over Dalant’has, holding it firmly in both hands, “is the dawn of a new age. This is the foundation of a new empire.” He drove the spear with tremendous force right into the chest of Dalant’has, splashing his dark blood into the room, sparks jolting as the Aram ripped his brother’s body, sticking into the floor stones.
Sim’Ra gently pulled the spear from his brother’s motionless body, smiling. “This is the foundation of Rome.”
***
Ray bumped into Sim’Ra in one of the corridors connecting the hangar bay to the main hall. The dark alien looked lively, smiling even, walking at a relaxed pace as he observed the tapestries hanging on the stone walls.
“If you’re done with your sightseeing, we are about to depart.”
“Lohil,” Sim’Ra smiled, sending chills through Ray’s spine. “I was just on my way to the hangar bay. I had to say my farewell to my brother.”
Ray leaned aside, looking at the empty corridor. “Where’s your brother?”
“He is sending his sincerest regards. Dalant’has will not be joining us as I believe he has urgent matters to attend to.” Sim’Ra’s smile widened, light from the brazier fire flickering in his eyes, and he passed by Ray, heading for the hangar bay. “We had better be on our way.”
Ray’s brows wrinkled, but he didn’t push the matter. Sim’Ra was right. They had a long journey before them, and resolution mattered more than anything for him. He shrugged and followed the dark alien.
By the time they entered the hangar bay, the eremite waiting near the ramp was gone, and the cavern was filled with Fox’s engine noise. Sarah waved from the cockpit as they approached the ship. Darty, who had spent this journey inside the gunship, refusing to come out no matter how Sarah coaxed, now sat on a console, yawning.
“So, you found our… companion,” Captain Samir folded his arms. “Where have you been, Sim’Ra?”
The Baeal prince saluted the soldier with a royal bow. “I was saying my farewells to my brother.” He smiled and passed by the captain, boarding the gunship.
“What’s the cheering for?” Samir asked Ray, watching the alien disappear inside the ship.
Ray shook his head. “The boy?”
“He’s on board, and your daughter was more than happy to see him.”
“Good. Let’s head out.” Ray boarded the ship.
Samir followed him, closing the ramp behind Ray. “We’re all set,” he shouted over the engine noise. “You go check the cockpit. I’ll keep an eye on Sim’Ra.”
Ray nodded, heading for the cockpit. He took the pilot’s seat and suddenly felt relaxed. He let his muscles soften, sinking into his chair. The lights of the consoles welcomed him, their soft glow reflecting in his eyes. He reached for Darty and patted the cat, scratching behind her ears. Her response was a welcoming purr.
“She likes it,” Sarah chuckled. “Although, if you push it, that purr turns into a paw coming your way in full force.”
“Well, as long as we have cat food.”
“I’m raw-feeding her now. They helped me stock some meat for her. She seems to like it. We’re out of cat food anyway,” Sarah smirked. “It’s healthier this way.”
“It would be hard to find a veterinary physician around these parts. Anyway,” Ray let go of Darty and took the flight stick. “Now, we go to Tarra.”
“Shouldn’t we let Admiral Conway know?”
Ray pulled the stick gently, and Fox took off smoothly with only the slightest hint of trembling. “We should,” he said, focused on turning the ship slowly to face the cavern’s exit. “Nice and easy,” he mumbled to himself. “Archibald relayed our message to his patrol craft. One of the corvettes should be in the range of Deviator to deliver it.”
“Do they know where she is?”
“I’m not sure,” Ray pushed the thrusters, and the ship moved forward, leaving the Cosmon Brotherhood headquarters behind. “If they didn’t run into trouble, they should be somewhere within twenty jumps range.”
“Twenty jumps is a long distance, Ray. Can’t you just use the stones and locate them?”
“For us, maybe,” Ray said, pulling the flight stick and raising the nose of the ship as they left the small planet’s atmosphere. “Deviator is a superdreadnought. Its jump capability is nowhere near the same league as a gunship.”
“That’s if the thing actually works.”
“Well, if not, they were left on New Eden and are all dead. And, no, I prefer not using the stones unless it’s an emergency. We may attract the Devourer.”
Sarah didn’t bother to hide her anger. “You don’t mean it.”
“Sarah, every step I take kills people. It started with Canaar, and that was a hundred thousand on my account.” Ray reached for the navigation panel and brought up the holographic autopilot display. “I fought an alien race and probably committed genocide.” He entered the first set of coordinates the hangar chief had given them, setting course for a jump hole hidden deep inside a nearby cloud formation. “I don’t know how many died on New Eden, but that was on me as well. After a while, no matter how hard I try, they become numbers.”
“You didn’t kill those people.”
“You know what I meant.” Ray set the coordinates and started the jump drive countdown. “I will break this cycle; that I promise. But I can’t let feelings distract me. Too much at stake.”
Sarah took a deep, long breath and sighed. “So, this jump hole, where will it take us?”
“It’s one of the back doors the Brotherhood uses to infiltrate the core systems. Archibald said there are over ten such jump points not shown on commercial maps. It’s how they come and go as they please.”
“Consortium knew about them?”
“I don’t know. What I know is, it would take us at least a hundred jumps to make it to core systems, and that’s if we had our cartography updated according to our position.” Ray checked one of the screens for their position and narrowed his eyes, calibrating the coordinates. “This hole will bring us close to another one, then we’ll be a day’s distance from Bunari.”
“Back to where it all began, eh?”
“It would be fitting. I’ll finish this where it all started.” Ray smiled and punched the jump drive.
YOU HAVE KILLED ME, YOU HAVE KILLED ME
No matter how many times Rebecca had seen the scene, she couldn’t get her head around the concept of what she saw on the holographic display. By now, she should be used to seeing grotesque forms of aliens before her, but she was not—far from it.
The old Deviator husk was before them, hanging still just outside the junk field, looking as if its pieces had been glued back together. Rebecca found herself silently praying for the wreckage barrier between her new ship and the infested superdreadnought hull. Organic tissue had spread through the upper decks, all the way to the engine section, covering the metal surface beneath it as if to connect the debris the explosion had caused. Rebecca saw or at least imagined that the big, dark brown veins wrapped around the bow throbbed. Countless small objects flew around the infested husk, like flies feasting over a dead animal.
Stefanu’s voice startled her. “It looks disgusting. Never seen anything like this in my life.”
“None of us had.” Rebecca felt the cold of her sweat under her uniform. “They supposedly prepare you for first contact scenarios at the flight academy.”
“That’s pure hogwash, eh?”
Rebecca took a deep breath, “Mr. Jong?”
“Two minutes, ma’am. We are almost done with the calibrations.”
“These calibrations are sure taking their sweet time.” Stefanu didn’t show any sign of dis
tress on his face, but Rebecca was sure the man was afraid. Like the rest of us in this room.
“This is a superdreadnought, Mr. Stefanu. It is not a canoe. The cartography has to make stellar calculations to make sure we do not end up inside an asteroid field or a planet, and Mr. Jong has to make it sure he compensates for the margin of error.”
Stefanu winced. “Still,” he nodded at the display, “ending up inside a rock might be a better resolution than that.”
Rebecca couldn’t argue. She would rather be de-atomized in milliseconds than turned into a beehive. She straightened her uniform. “Our first order of business is to survive. If it comes to being eaten alive or worse, believe me, I would be the first to pick the alternative end.”
“Fair enough.”
“We are ready, ma’am.” Lieutenant Commander Jong rubbed his blinded eye under his eye patch. “We have to clear the debris field. There are still engine cores active in some of these ships, and we would risk damaging the ship with a premature reaction.”
Rebecca nodded. “Do it. Communications,” she shouted without turning her attention away from the display. She was afraid if she diverted her attention even for a second from the infested ship, it would close the gap between them and surprise her. “Patch me to the Junker base.”
“Line is open, ma’am,” one of the officers confirmed.
“Mr. Lero?”
“What in hell’s name have you brought to my doorstep, you wench!”
Rebecca’s right hand twitched, but she suppressed it before it turned into a trembling.
“Watch your tone, you excuse for a life,” Ga’an stepped in from the other end of the table but fell silent with Rebecca’s left hand's firm move.
“Mr. Lero, you are a man of opportunity and a pragmatist. You can curse and yell all you want. I am giving you a chance to save your skin, and I will let your treachery slide, this time. Mr. Jong?” she leaned her head toward the tactical console.
“Five minutes before she is in range, Admiral.”
“You have less than five minutes before that thing comes close enough to make contact. After that, believe me when I say your odds of surviving would be zero.”
“You killed my son,” Borjan Lero spat as he spoke. He was still playing the tough guy, but Rebecca saw the activity behind him, his base personnel hastily readying for departure.
“That was the price of me forgiving your treachery. As you can see, the price is rather steep. We will leave this system now. I suggest you do the same.”
“Ma’am,” Lieutenant Commander Jong’s voice put a halt to the exchange. “We should really go. Now.”
Rebecca made a cutthroat gesture to end the communication. “What is it? Mr. Ga’an?”
Ga’an was near the tactical terminal already, both his and Lieutenant Commander Jong’s faces stern. “Projectiles. Those veins are firing at us.”
“Projectiles? Weapons fire?”
“I do not know, Admiral Conway. But if they are pods, I am not eager to take on another boarding party. We do not know the armament available on this new husk. We may very well be left with our rifles and no mechs or explosives.”
“And I am not ready to blow up my second ship in less than a day.” She nodded. “Make the jump, Mr. Jong.”
“Ma’am, there is a Junker ship taking off from the base, right before us, blocking our path.”
Rebecca wasn’t sure if she had cursed out loud, but from the looks of her bridge personnel’s faces, she had. “Communications. Now!”
“Open, ma’am.”
“Borjan, what do you think you are doing?”
The plump man laughed, more like a hissing because of all the smokes he had throughout his life, revealing his yellowed teeth. “As you’ve mildly put, Admiral, I’m an opportunist. That thing’s probably here for you, and your new, beautiful ship creates the perfect curtain for me while I make my way as far away as possible from this piss hole.”
This time, Rebecca did nothing to keep her hand from shaking. “Mr. Jong,” she ignored the two-faced Junker. “Do we have weapon systems online?”
“Do we have any weapons?” Stefanu asked, raising a brow.
Lieutenant Commander Jong madly pressed buttons and swiped screens before him.
“Mr. Jong!”
“Yes,” he confirmed. “I have control over automated flak cannons five through twenty-one, starboard side.”
“Engine kill. Rotate the ship toward starboard side, shields at maximum, all cannons fire at will and mark anything that moves.” She waved at Ga’an. “Mr. Ga’an, take a team with you and get ready to move in at any puncture point we may have. Mr. Stefanu, the same goes for you. Find the task force leaders and get ready to defend the ship if one of those things touches this hull. Go!”
Both men saluted and dashed from the bridge, raining orders on the nearby task force leaders standing by at the bridge's far end. Even if they were unhappy about the newly-turned mercenary giving the orders, no one questioned the ex-Delta’s tactical field expertise.
Rebecca was about to bellow a new set of orders, but she felt the ground shifting under her feet and had to hold on to the main display console. “Mr. Jong?”
“It is the debris, ma’am,” Lieutenant Commander Jong let his seat’s emergency belt strap on. “I suggest you take your seat, Admiral. This will be very bumpy. The flak cannons are hitting at anything moving within two-clicks distance.”
“Anything?” Rebecca’s eyes bulged. “Engine cores!”
Lieutenant Commander Jong didn’t reply, and Rebecca didn’t need him to anyway.
“Navigation?” she growled, reaching for her seat in all the rattling. She let the automatic straps fasten up. “How soon can we jump?”
“A few more seconds, ma’am. We still need to have the Junker ship clear.”
Rebecca pressed a few buttons and copied the main holographic display to her command chair’s personal screen. She immediately shook her head. “Not enough time. That Junker ship is heading to the navigation buoy. It still needs minutes to reach there.”
“Admiral, Commander Ga’an’s team intercepted one of the projectiles reaching us at juncture twenty-one.”
She touched her communicator insignia. “Mr. Ga’an, report.”
“We have stopped the pod, Admiral Conway. It appears the pod is carrying some type of a bug inside an egg-shaped organic cocoon.”
“Keep at it.” Rebecca ended the call. “Mr. Jong, how many impacts?”
“Seven so far. The security teams intercepted them all. If we—”
“Admiral!” the radar technician hastily switched the main display to zoom mode. “They have switched projectiles.”
“Mr. Jong?” Rebecca changed the display before her.
Lieutenant Commander Jong cursed. “Plasma, ma’am. Trajectories suggest the flak cannons. They are targeting our defenses. If we lose any more than three cannons—”
“I know the odds, Mr. Jong. Navigation,” Rebecca turned to her left, her stare melting anywhere she looked.
“Still a no-go, ma’am.”
“Plasma hits on cannon eleven.”
“Keep at it, Mr. Jong.”
“Ma’am,” Lieutenant Commander Jong’s voice was begging now. “We lost gun seven. One more, and we will have an opening in our curtain.”
Rebecca’s communicator beeped. “Stefanu to bridge. More pods are landing, Admiral. I suggest you do whatever you have to do now.”
Rebecca closed her eyes and sighed. She felt her right hand trembling. When she opened her eyes again, her stare was cold. Dead, even. She hated herself. She hated this war and the aliens. Rebecca wished she were back on Earth. She and Francis—she realized she had long forgotten his death in all the madness going on around her, and she hated herself for that as well—they would be enjoying a quiet, calm life at an ocean house in the Cook Islands with their Labrador.
She was not on Earth, and Francis was long dead.
“Tactical, do we have any po
rt weapons online?”
“Yes,” Lieutenant Commander Jong stuttered. She wasn’t sure if it was panic or his reaction to her voice. “We have the bow mortar available, two hundred and twenty degrees rotation.”
“Target the Junker ship and fire when ready.”
“Ma’am?”
She sighed. “Do not make me repeat myself, Lieutenant.”
“Aye, ma’am.”
Rebecca watched the small display before her, little dots representing projectiles. They disappeared one by one on the map, but not fast enough and definitely not far enough from her ship. It was a matter of time before more pods would penetrate the hull than her marine team can handle. On the map, a single, blue dot appeared on Deviator's other side, heading toward a small, green dot away from the chaos.
“Admiral, we are being hailed by the Junker ship.”
She pressed a button on her chair, and the display changed into Borjan Lero’s face. It was not smiling. It was terrified.
“You wench. You killed us all!”
“I did.” Rebecca ended the call, and the map display flashed onto the screen again. A moment later, the green dot disappeared.
“Ma’am, we have a clearing.”
She nodded. “Punch it.”
Deviator’s new engines glowed a sudden bright blue, forming rings of light behind them. The air around the ship flickered, and the superdreadnought disappeared inside a bright light. With the jump window’s force the superdreadnought created, dead ships and metal junk around the scrap yard exploded one by one, shrapnel flying in every direction. The flames jumped to the station hanging over the newly formed sea of fire, swallowing the metal base in one big whoosh. The conflagration ended as fast as it had ignited, and soon space returned to cold, dead emptiness, burning debris and chunks of white-hot metal settling.
It was empty, but for the husk of old Deviator at a safe distance, as if observing the aftermath.
HARVESTER OF SORROWS
“How many years have I served your purpose without ever asking the reason why?”
“Irrelevant. You were never meant to ask the reason why. It is beyond your purpose, beyond your reason for existence.”
Balance of Power: The Blackened Prophecy Book 2 Page 20
