“We’re here to help you.” Eden motioned to the armored slat over the window, remembering what Skye had seen while piloting an Aven, a Space Templar starfighter, on a trip toward the east. “Not far off is a weapon, and it appears large enough to heavily damage this ship. It’s heading your way. The traitor probably knows about the weapon already, so be aware of any tricks that may arise. Once we rest, we’ll stop the weapon at the pass.” She stared deeply into Diana’s eyes, wanting to call her out as the traitor here and now. “I’m sure the traitor wouldn’t want that weapon stopped, but we do, and we will stop it.”
Diana sat up, her eyes widening. “A weapon?”
“You don’t know?”
Diana bolted out of her chair, her brows v’d. “Of course not. If I did, I’d have my starfighters scrambling now.”
“Well, scramble them,” said Eden.
Diana turned in her chair, eyeing the window. “How far away?”
“Roughly two days, maybe longer. I haven’t seen it, but our sensors indicate it’s moving slowly.”
Diana went rigid, her lower lip twitching. “That bastard.”
“Who?”
Diana pushed her chair out of the way and walked toward the open door. “We have to get this ship off the ground and starfighters scrambled. I have no time to talk.” She pointed a finger through the doorway. “Out.”
Eden dipped her head. “Yes, Captain.”
She marched down the hallway, moving quickly to catch up with Skye. She turned a corner, and saw him leaning against a wall, smoldering and waiting for her. His face flushed red, his eyes nearly shooting lasers, something she’d never seen from him before.
He calmed the closer she approached. “I’m sorry, Eden, but we need to strip you of your rank. Nyx will hold your position from this point forward.”
7
Zim
Starbase Matrona
Prime Director Zim Noki rested his behind on a chair in an empty Sphere Eight Prime Overseer office, staring at a holoscreen. The office sat in a nearby skyscraper, his capital building close-by. Sabra informed him that his capital building office crawled with potential danger, ending her sentence, saying, “It’s the last place I want you.”
Right now, he wanted nothing more than to send Enlil a message. But what exactly would he say?
He grumbled and wrung his hands together. Changing his fate riddled his mind. He wanted to live, to let Enlil know Sabra forced him to out Enlil and coerced him to state the truth about Fleet Admiral Shae Lutz’s innocence.
A traitor was a traitor, though.
Maybe Enlil would have mercy on him, knowing Enlil’s sister, Sabra, betrayed him as well.
He put his fingertips on the holokeypad, typing with ferocity and purpose, his eyes glued to the words. He had to expose Sabra, and let Enlil know about her plans. If he found his way back to Enlil’s good grace, he could live.
A knock on the door and Zim jerked back. His pulse rose, and he pressed transmit, sending the unfinished communication to Enlil. He shut off the HDC and spun around, moving out of his seat. He plopped his butt on top of the desk and placed his foot on the chair’s seat. “Come in, Sabra.”
The door opened and the ten-foot-tall woman walked in, her beauty on full display. She held herself strong, her long strides athletically graceful. He marveled at her incredible looks, her red, flowing hair, yet wanted to spit on her face for what she’d done to him.
He’d changed, yes, and become sympathetic to the little Earthlings for a short time. He understood their plight, and that slavery clamped hard on their souls, a cruelty like none other. However, he wouldn’t have felt that way if she hadn’t placed a gold, sparkling helmet over his head—the Crown of Accountability. It made him sympathize with the little nitwits, the dumbed-down humans.
The Crown of Accountability’s effect had worn off. Snapping out of a compassionate, understanding state proved easy, especially when he realized that he’d sealed his fate by taking orders from this woman.
Sabra touched the HDC. “It's warm.”
Zim nodded. “It sure is.” He grinned, then walked to the office bar, a place he regularly visited in his own office. “Want some mead?”
“You know I don't touch that stuff.” She sighed, sliding her hand across the top of his desk. “And here I thought you'd changed.”
He opened a bottle. “I did for a moment. You signed my death sentence, Sabra. I am trying to unsign it if you catch my drift.”
“I let you in here, in this Prime Overseer's office to test you. You didn’t pass the test.” She looked off and out a window. “My other brother, the one who seeks the light in all things, Enki, has plans for you. He sees something in you that could benefit all intelligent life in the galaxy. You have a way with people and convince others to see your truth. Once you see the real truth—that life encompasses all of us and that we are all truly one—I think the Space Templars will embrace you with open arms.”
Zim chugged down a few gulps and waved his hand in the air, dismissing her reply. He burped, then took another gulp. “The truth of the matter is that you killed me. Enlil will do anything in his power to knock me down so I never get up again. I wish to rectify that and change his mind.”
“What else were you doing on the HDC, Zim?” She cocked an eyebrow.
“I searched the vid channels, and yes, watched myself spill my guts to the population.” He wanted to gut himself. He looked like a pansy.
She studied him. “Was I right?”
He took another chug of mead. “Right about what?” He wiped his mouth.
“I told you the humans would applaud you for telling the truth.”
He shrugged. They applauded him, which felt well and great, but none of that mattered. Getting things right with Enlil mattered.
After Zim won the Prime Director election over twenty-years ago, Enlil promised Zim treasures beyond anything he could imagine once this human cycle ended, and here Sabra stood, delaying the human’s destiny and the inevitable kill-off.
He folded his arms over his chest, his hand grasped around the bottle of mead. “Now, Sabra, tell me this one thing. How long do you think it will take for these humans to change their minds and turn on me? I give it a week, maybe two.”
“They won’t. They celebrate you. Are you paying attention or asleep at the helm, Prime Director?”
“How in the Guild would I know? You've kept me under wraps and away from them—”
“To keep you safe from Enlil.”
He slammed the bottle on the bar, shattering it, the broken neck of the bottle in his hand as mead splattered on the floor, his shirt, and pants. “That's what I'm saying. You've killed me. He’ll have my head any day now.”
Sabra shifted her eyes from Zim to the mead dripping off the bar. “Have a little faith. You're not dead right now, are you? And I won’t allow it.” She brought her gorgeous eyes down on him. “If you weren't with me, then you’re right, Enlil would already have your head.”
Zim went to the desk and sat in the chair, his fingers forming a steeple. “Not anymore.” He grinned. “I sent him a message and told him everything.”
She smiled back, dipping her head. “I told my techs to intercept anything you attempted to send to Enlil. Once you sent your message, I imagine they received it immediately and deleted it from the holonet. Enlil won’t ever see the beautiful words you wrote.”
Zim’s lips dropped, and he slumped, his excitement snuffed out. He wanted to show her up.
Sabra walked backward, butting up against a wall, keeping eye contact. “Plus, Enlil already has hit men looking for you. Or, I should say, your hitmen.”
Zim straightened in his posture and tapped his chest with his index finger. “My hitmen?”
She nodded. “Yes, Payson and his crew. They posed as your secret guard, but they’d always been Enlil’s guard. He brainwashed those poor souls, and when, or if, he needed them, he’d make them strike and strike quickly. He had them under his contro
l, whether those elite soldiers knew it or not.” She tapped her finger on her elbow. “He programmed their DNA if you remember. He owns their minds.”
Zim shook his head. “No, those are my guys. I control them.” He dropped his shoulders, realizing his folly, and his naïveté. He didn’t control them in the slightest.
“So, you're dead if you leave my protection,” said Sabra. “I’m the only chance you have. Enlil has played this game many times and has more Plan B’s than you could shake your finger at.”
Zim looked away, breathing heavily through his nose. “Now what? If Enlil sent Payson after me,” he stood, anger rising from his belly, “that means I have little time. I’m a dead man walking.”
“Your chance of staying alive is minimal, yes, but that’s if you’re not with me like I keep telling you. But if you die, it’s no big deal. It’s an easy transition. It’s not something you need to fear.”
“Okay, Miss Righteous One. Take me to your leader.”
She walked to the door. “My leader, Enki, is on planet Aurora. It’s packed with Space Templars, so don’t let them get on your nerves when you get there. They are good people here to help and serve the galaxy.”
Her wrist band beeped, and a voice blared through. “Payson and his men are on their way. Leave the facility now.”
Zim threw his hands in the air, his eyebrows rising. “Great.”
She extended her hand. “Follow me and I’ll get you off this starbase, but we have to go now.”
8
Shae
Eos
Shae and Ali stood outside Bilrak’s palace, the door closed, the grumpy King still inside, most likely drinking the root tea Shae never finished.
“I don’t like saying it, but I have to go, Ali.” Shae pursed his lips, hating the taste of the words coming out of his mouth.
Ali nodded. “Then you need to go.” She looked away, shaking her head. “How will I see you again? How can we reunite?”
Shae eyed Chan, who approached with several Bawns by his side, including the blond, Thun.
Chan bowed. “News travels fast in a small city like this one.” He folded his hands in his sleeves. “I apologize your visit was a short one, but before you leave, we need to deactivate your tracking chips. Once outside the mountain, you’ll be easily trackable again.”
“I need a holopad or something. Once you save Sirona,” Shae looked at Ali, “you need to rendezvous with Starbase Matrona, and I need to give you the new coordinates.”
Chan tapped his head. “I have an incredible memory.” He turned toward a large mushroom topped building, the walls made of stone, the roof bronze colored. “Follow me.”
They did, and reaching the mushroom-shaped structure, Thun pushed open the door. Ali ducked inside under the archway, Sol in hand. Shae came next, followed by Chan and several Bawns.
Shae’s jaw dropped, and he slowly spun around the room. “Holy Guild.”
Rock-like holocomps, holographic monitors, and holokeypads lined the walls. Data streamed across the screens.
“They will deactivate your chips now,” said Chan.
Ali eyed one of the holocomps. “I can’t believe this has been under our noses the entire time I’ve mined on this planet.”
“Put your arms to your side.”
Shae and Ali did as instructed. A small man holding a flashing wand connected by a long cord to a holocomp held a scowl on his wrinkled, beard-covered face. He waved the wand up and down Shae. A flash of light came from the wand and lit up the room. “Done,” said the Bawn. “Next.” He walked to Ali, waving the wand up and down her body until another bright flash engulfed the room. “Okay, you’re done. Get out.”
Shae frowned as the man shuffled everyone out of the small building like he was brushing out unwanted dirt.
“It can’t be that easy,” said Shae.
The door slammed, and they stood outside. Ali stared at the door, expressionless. “That’s it? We’re not bugged anymore?”
Chan bowed. “You’re now free to travel without risk or care of being tracked.” He turned to Shae, again tapping on his own noggin. “I’ll take the coordinates, please.”
Shae walked up the mountain’s long inner spiral pathway toward the tunnel’s exit, loneliness coming over him as the wholeness he felt while in Ali’s presence slowly diminished. She had watched him leave until the shadows darkened Shae as he walked up the curving trail. Before leaving, he mentioned to her why Harak disliked the one who wielded Sol, hence Ali, and any outsider. Harak believed someone in his family would soon die after the Chosen One arrived.
She shrugged it off. “It’s just a belief.”
“Be careful.”
“Don’t worry about me.”
Easy for her to say.
“Bye, Dad,” he heard her shout shortly after he walked away from her. “I love you.”
He waved. “I love you, too.”
Ten minutes later, the crunching pebbles underfoot pounded his ears. He slapped his hands together, talking out loud to himself. “Don’t start feeling sorry for yourself. She’s alive and well, and you’ll see her shortly.”
He made his way through the tunnel and eventually stepped outside. He eyed his Starjumper, thankfully untouched. He took a deep whiff of air, filling his lungs with fresh oxygen. They could have lived on this planet the entire time Matrona orbited Eos.
He cringed at the lies drilled into his and everyone’s mind. The overly intense gravity. A lie. No oxygen. Another lie. The unbearable heat, and no mention of gold and crystals in the ebb terrain, and humans the only Beings in the galaxy. Lie. Lie. Lie. The list could go on for kilometers.
A triangular-shaped starfighter rumbled across the sky, interrupting his steaming thoughts. The craft dipped a wing, and quickly faded into a small dot in the distance.
Shae gulped and ran for his craft. He didn’t know if the dipped wing meant the pilot saw his Starjumper, or he noticed Shae and was giving him a heads-up that a strafing run would come in Shae’s direction soon. He doubted the latter.
He raced across the ebb field, jumping over small jutted rocks, and rounding large boulders. He eyed the sky, noting the ship didn’t turn around. He blew out his cheeks. Either the son of a bitch enjoyed playing with Shae’s nerves, or Shae stood a lucky man. Again, he doubted the latter.
He placed his hand on the cabin’s exterior control panel. A beep and the side door flipped upward. He hurried inside, hearing a rumbling sound fill the sky and shaking the earth. The starfighter indeed turned and was coming in for another pass. He rushed into the cockpit and glared at the sky through the window. A dot in the sky grew in size with another dot accompanying it. They moved fast, turning from dots to miniature starfighters, soon to be larger and sending cannon fire.
He slapped a button on the flight console to close the cabin door. It clicked and hissed. Airtight. He plopped onto the pilot’s seat and activated engines. The Starjumper purred, and Shae flicked on belly thrusters, lifting the craft off the ground. He pulled up radar, now noting three starfighters in the vicinity.
Crap.
He tilted his Starjumper toward the heavens and the long wispy clouds in patches across the early blue sky. He moved the throttle forward, engaging aft boosters. He sank back into his chair as the gravity pressed against him.
The Starjumper blasted like a rocket, moving at incredible speed toward the upper atmosphere. A beep sounded. The radar showed the starfighters headed his way. He stiffened, readying himself for some fast, quick maneuvering.
He gulped hard and patted his flight console. The ship was shaking the higher he flew. “Just get me into space, baby. I’ll take care of the rest.”
Another loud warning reverberated off the walls. A moment later, several alarms filled the cockpit. He eyed the radar. Missiles had launched heading his way.
He blasted through the upper atmosphere and banked hard as he broke through the exosphere, his heart pumping quickly.
The alarms stopped, the m
issiles having reached their measured limits.
He thought of his daughter as he punched in Starbase Matrona’s coordinates on his nav panel. Another beep sounded in the cockpit, and then another blared on the holomonitor’s radar read. Four starfighters inbound, and probably more on the way. They closed in on Shae’s small Starjumper.
Tracer fire let loose, red, fiery streaks gaining on him. He pulled the control stick to his right, easily avoiding the slugs. More warnings echoed in the cockpit. He glanced at his radar, counting eight missiles inbound.
Shae pressed on the Negative Matter Jump Drives, NMJ Drives for short. “See you later,” he called out, wiping the sweat off his brow.
Everything in front of him stretched long and wide, and silence filled the cockpit, a popping sound accompanying static erupted in his ears. The stars changed into streaks of lights, and his eyes blurred before everything stopped as if time stood still. Another pop and the streaks disappeared. He sat staring at Starbase Matrona, her silver shine catching his eyes.
He pressed on the commlink. “Starbase Matrona, this is Fleet Admiral Shae Lutz. Open bay doors, I’m heading in for a landing.”
“Affirmative Fleet Admiral. Sphere One bay doors opening. You’re clear for landing.”
Shae smiled, thinking about his daughter, happy they’d be together soon. First, according to Bilrak’s prophecies, he had a starbase and her people to save. “See you soon, Ali.”
He steered his craft toward Sphere One, his thoughts turning to Payson. If that bastard still lived, he’d soon be Shae’s number one target.
9
Ali
Dirn Garum, Eos
A loud horn blasted, and Ali jumped to a standing position, her eyes blurry from tears, and her stomach sick from watching her dad leave.
Backlash Rising Page 6
