Defiance (Atlantia Series Book 5)

by Dean Crawford

  ‘Of course I’m not damn sure about it, but what choice do we have? Mikhain’s right, there’s too much at stake for us to screw this up before they’ve even got down to the surface.’

  ‘That’s right,’ C’rairn said. ‘But once he gets down there he’s got every motive for not wanting to come back, and we can’t reveal what he’s done for fear of weakening our case before the council.’

  The general nodded and then a grim little smile curled from the corner of his lips as he confronted Mikhain.

  ‘When Idris sent Kordaz down to the surface of Chiron IV, you betrayed him because you thought that he would be a threat to our safety. I can assure you, captain, that the moment I even suspect that you have any intention of doing anything other than defending the human race even if it means your own sacrifice, I’ll ensure the Galactic Council knows every single thing you’ve done since you joined this fleet. Your betrayals, your lies, and the lives lost because of them. If it’s my last breathing act I will ensure that you spend the rest of your life rotting in a cell and awaiting the arrival of The Word and its Legion.’

  Captain Mikhain held the General’s gaze and nodded once.

  ‘I wouldn’t expect anything less.’

  Bra’hiv scowled and turned away, then gestured for the lieutenant to release the captain. C’rairn stepped forward and moments later Mikhain’s manacles were released and he stepped forward, rubbing his wrists.

  ‘The missions craft are inbound, one Raython escort each from Atlantia,’ Shah reported from her station.’

  ‘Keep our Raythons aboard ship for now,’ Mikhain replied, ‘and ensure all passive sensors remain operational. If this goes badly we may need some kind of advance warning of...’

  ‘You’re no longer the captain!’ Bra’hiv snapped.

  Mikhain glared at the General, as though he were about to retort, but then he fell silent and stepped back. Bra’hiv looked up at Lieutenant Scott.

  ‘You have the bridge and the command of Arcadia,’ he instructed the lieutenant. ‘Keep your shields down and your plasma cannons deactivated, but I want every single person on the ship ready for action at a moment’s notice.’

  Scott nodded, and then he turned and began giving orders to the command crew as the General grabbed Mikhain’s arm.

  ‘Remember, your every effort down there, or I will sink you. I’ll be watching, one way or the other.’

  Bra’hiv shoved Mikhain towards Qayin and the Marines and gestured toward the bridge exits.

  ‘Ensure he gets aboard the diplomatic mission. Don’t take your eyes off of him until he’s gone, understood?’

  Qayin loomed over the former captain and without looking he activated his plasma rifle, the magazine humming into life.

  ‘Don’t worry, he’s not going anywhere but where we want him to.’

  ***

  XVIII

  ‘Reaper one copy, Atlantia?’

  Evelyn heard the call as she banked her Raython over, the sleek fighter descending alongside Atlantia’s hull. She watched as a small convoy of diplomatic vessels lifted off and departed Atlantia’s launch bay.

  ‘Reaper one, pass message.’

  ‘You’re instructed to accompany the diplomatic mission down to the surface, with Reaper Two. Weapons are to remain cold, shields down.’

  ‘Roger that, wilco.’

  Evelyn glanced out to her right to see Teera’s Raython formating alongside her.

  ‘Looks like we’re going for a ride.’

  ‘I don’t like this,’ Teera replied. ‘Sure, I want to still be down there on Oassia and not stuck aboard Atlantia, but I don’t trust the way they’re doing things. We’ve got our arms behind our backs and no way of defending ourselves.’

  ‘They’re nervous,’ Evelyn soothed with a confidence she did not feel. ‘Once we get down there and state our case I’m pretty sure they’ll come round to our way of thinking.’

  ‘I’ll believe that when I see it,’ Teera replied.

  Evelyn eased back on her throttles as she allowed her Raython to drift into close formation alongside the sleek diplomatic vessels as they turned toward Oassia, several planetary diameters away. The diplomatic craft were all painted a glossy white, their slender flanks illuminated by external lighting making them easily visible even in deep space. These were not warships and likely only possessed light armaments, and they all carried a blue triangle emblem that signified diplomatic vessels of the Galactic Council. To fire upon such a vessel was considered a galactic crime that was pursued and punished with the absolute conviction of all concerned.

  Evelyn had no idea who was aboard the craft, and could only assume that Lieutenant Scott had taken the place of Captain Mikhain aboard Arcadia. As she watched, two of the diplomatic craft moved very slowly together, one rolling inverted and positioning itself beneath the other before closing in.

  ‘They’re docking,’ Teera observed.

  Evelyn could tell that the precision and speed with which the two aircraft docked meant that they were under automatic control, for no pilot could manoeuvre with such accuracy in such a short space of time.

  Evelyn glanced at her instruments and a clock in her cockpit estimated their time of arrival at Oassia’s atmosphere as just over one Etherean hour.

  ‘We’d best settle in,’ she said as she checked her fuel gauges. ‘Switch over to autopilot and slave our guidance systems to the lead diplomatic craft. We may as well let them do the navigating once they accelerate to cruise velocity.’

  ‘Roger that,’ Teera replied.

  Evelyn switched over her navigation computer, locking it in to the diplomatic craft, and then stretched her legs out as she folded her hands in her lap and tried to relax. Whatever the Galactic Council had in mind, they were going to have to face it one way or the other.

  *

  Captain Idris Sansin sat in a luxury leather recliner, a polished glass table before him that contained a variety of fruits, drinks and other refreshments probably laid on for high–level diplomatics rather than the captains of former prison vessels. The other eight recliners around him were vacant, the Board of Governors instructed to occupy another section of the craft for reasons that Idris could not fathom. Despite his suspicion about the way they were being treated he found himself rather enjoying the solitude of the cabin, a rare moment of peace in what felt like a lifetime of war.

  The craft’s gravity, like that of Atlantia, was created using magnetically charged panels beneath the decks. This worked well for walking about, but Sansin like all experienced space travellers had to take care as he plucked fruit from the bowl and popped it into his mouth. Tiny globules of liquid water drifted up through the air from the bowl and he was careful to mop them up with a napkin as he ate.

  The fruits tasted like nothing he could recall, perhaps because they were native to a planet he had never before visited, or perhaps because they had gone so long without adequate fresh food and vegetables that his body craved them more than usual. He was almost relaxed when he felt the pressure change in the cabin as an entrance door hissed open somewhere behind him. Idris turned and saw Mikhain stride into the cabin.

  Idris hid his disappointment at the intrusion as he stood from his seat but said nothing as Mikhain walked towards him and gestured to one of the seats opposite.

  ‘Mind if I take one?’

  Idris regarded his fellow officer for a long moment before he replied. ‘Be my guest.’

  Mikhain took a seat and reached out for some of the fruits in the bowl opposite. Idris sat back down and looked out of the craft’s viewing ports at the dense starfields and Evelyn’s escorting Raython as he waited for Mikhain to say something.

  ‘General Bra’hiv’s Marines completed their mission,’ Mikhain said finally.

  ‘I wouldn’t have expected anything less.’

  Mikhain sighed heavily and took a deep breath. ‘Why did you do it, Idris?’

  ‘I think that’s the question we should all be asking you.’


  Mikhain shook his head and rubbed his temples with one hand. ‘You know damned well why I did it, why I disagreed with you entrusting such a valuable mission with Kordaz, why I thought the whole crusade was a step too far and could have cost us everything.’

  ‘Every step now is a step too far that could cost us everything,’ Idris replied. ‘We’re stronger together and infinitely weakened by any hint of betrayal or discord.’

  ‘That’s how you’ve always seen it,’ Mikhain said. ‘It’s your way or the highway. Any discord is some kind of betrayal, any disagreement evidence of enmity. Yours is a dictatorship, Idris, and it always has been.’

  ‘That’s why it’s called the military.’

  ‘Well it’s not the military any more.’

  ‘Don’t give me the soft–touch approach,’ Idris shot back. ‘We’ve been over this before too many times, especially with the Board of Governors. They’re aboard, you know?’

  ‘How did Gredan get himself a ride?’

  ‘I had to cut a deal,’ Idris replied. ‘If Kordaz could be used to hunt down the infection aboard Arcadia…’

  ‘… then Gredan and the governors got me?’ Mikhain finished the sentence for Idris.

  ‘And Kordaz walked free,’ Idris added.

  Mikhain sighed, overwhelmed by the scale of his downfall. ‘So you placed a Veng’en murderer’s welfare above my own? Charmed, I’m sure.’

  ‘Losing Kordaz and arresting you served the same purpose,’ Idris replied.

  ‘So it would seem, but Gredan’s only service is to himself. This is about his power, nothing more. He doesn’t speak for the people.’

  ‘The governors as a whole do,’ Idris replied. ‘This ship is automated, but the council’s drone insisted we board in separate sections which are isolated from each other. I’m assuming that the Galactic Council wants to keep us separated before meeting us on the surface, which means that they intend already to split us along military and civilian lines.’

  ‘And yet they let our ships dock, and us to talk?’

  ‘I don’t pretend to understand everything that they’re doing, but they’re obviously nervous of us and our intentions. They may suspect that we are infected, or that we’re agents of The Word, or that we’re as dangerous as any other species that they may have distanced themselves from during their long history. Who the hell knows?’

  Mikhain glanced out of the window beside his seat and saw a Raython formating close by.

  ‘They’re letting us travel to the planet despite suspection an infection?’ Mikhain asked rhetorically. ‘That doesn’t make any sense at all.’

  ‘It surprises me,’ Idris replied. ‘They may intend just to vaporise us, and there’s nothing that we can do about it.’

  Mikhain shook his head. ‘If they were going to do that they would have done it by now. This isn’t about destroying us. Whatever they want, they’re pretty much going to get. We have no way out of this now.’

  ‘And nor do you,’ Idris pointed out. ‘By now half of Atlantia will know what you did. You do realize that, don’t you?’

  Mikhain nodded, staring straight ahead, but he said nothing.

  ‘There have to be consequences. The Board of Governors will not let it pass, and the Galactic Council will certainly want to know everything that’s happened aboard our ships. We have to tell them everything in order to gain their trust, and that’s what Gredan’s angling for, complete transparency.’

  ‘I understand.’

  Idris looked at Mikhain for a long beat and then he leaned back in his seat. Ahead, through the viewing port to his left, he could just about see the shoulder of the planet Oassia appearing, looming large before them. The horizon glowed a soft blue against the deeply shadowed surface, the light from the red dwarf star yet to reach that section of the planet, but already he could see the glowing lights of cities far below, and closer still small specks of light moving slowly this way and that as civilian and military vessels moved between the massive orbiting stations and military bases high above the planet’s surface.

  Mikhain fell silent, and Idris decided to leave him be as he watched with fascination as the diplomatic craft descended toward Oassia. From his vantage point he got his first glimpse of true civilization for the first since leaving Ethera’s orbiting prisons so many years before.

  The space traffic increased as they closed in on the planet, large mining vessels departing orbit and vanishing in bright flares of light as they leaped into super luminal cruise. Further down, smaller shuttles moved between gigantic orbiting stations shaped like large eggs of steel, rotating on their axes. Although the egg–shaped stations appeared upright, Idris knew that the interiors were on their sides, the rotation providing natural gravity for the countless thousands of species that lived aboard them. Streams of space traffic entered and exited landing bays in a busy but orderly flow, the station catching the light of the star in a deep orange glow.

  The entire scene seemed full of peace, as though life were continuing as normal throughout the galaxy, but Idris knew that conflict was only as far away as the nearest of The Word’s Legion and that the inhabitants of this world must know it too.

  The diplomatic craft descended past the orbiting stations and began automatically changing their attitude as they decelerated. Moments later Idris felt a faint vibration through the craft’s hull beneath him as it entered the atmosphere of Oassia, and he looked out to his left to see Evelyn’s Raython in the distance, its nose high and bright red flames flaring from its hull as it deflected the enormous energy of orbital re–entry.

  The re–entry process lasted only a few minutes, and Idris marvelled at the sight of a bright blue ocean world below, vast ranks and valleys of cloud casting deep shadows over broad oceans as the sun rose over the horizon, the entire scene lit with vivid brushstrokes of copper and gold, vast towering clouds spread like angels wings across the horizon.

  He felt the craft slow as ahead he saw an enormous city standing above the ocean waves, immensely strong legs and braces supporting its unimaginable weight and vanishing into the ocean’s depths far below. Clouds drifted alongside its flanks, atmospheric turbulence buffeting the wings of the craft as it descended towards a landing pad, one of hundreds encircling the enormous city. Idris could see spires, tower blocks, flying vehicles and even pedestrians as the diplomatic craft slowed to landing speed and lined up with the landing pad ahead. Moments later, the craft shuddered as it touched down perfectly on the pad, Evelyn’s Raython settling nearby.

  Idris let his eyes drink in the spectacular city, virtually every single building and walkway transparent, the sunlight bathing the entire metropolis in orange light that glinted as though the city were built from burnished gold.

  Idris unstrapped and stood up from his seat as beside him Mikhain did likewise, and they stared at each other for a brief moment.

  ‘A unified front,’ Idris said, ‘no matter what the consequences.’

  ‘Agreed,’ Mikhain nodded.

  ***

  XIX

  Evelyn unclipped her harnesses and flipped a switch on one of the panels beside her in the Raython’s cockpit. The canopy opened and a brisk breeze of wonderfully fresh air gusted around her as she removed her flight helmet and clambered out of the cockpit.

  The landing pad was large enough to accommodate both the diplomatic vessels and the Raythons with room to spare, and as Evelyn climbed down from her fighter’s cockpit she saw the boarding ramp of the diplomatic craft lower to the sound of escaping pressurised air and a brief cloud of vapour.

  From within she saw the Board of Governors stride down onto the landing pad, and then moments later she saw Captains Sansin and Mikhain following them out of the craft. Evelyn managed to cover her surprise at seeing Mikhain and instead approached Idris directly.

  ‘Evelyn, notice anything odd?’ Idris asked her.

  ‘You mean apart from us coming down here weapons cold, leaving the frigates at the hands of the Morla’syn, and with no ide
a what the Galactic Council will do with us? No, nothing out of the ordinary. I only detected a single scan using passive sensors, which identified us as human occupants, that’s it. What about you, Teera?’

  ‘Same for me,’ Teera said as she approached, her skin not a dissimilar blue to Oassia’s vivid sky.

  ‘Never mind the scans,’ Councillor Vaughan growled. ‘What’s he doing here?’

  Vaughan pointed at Mikhain, who was standing with his hands behind his back observing the governors with guarded interest.

  ‘No alternative,’ Idris replied. ‘The Galactic Council recognises him as a captain and would accept nobody else in his stead.’

  Governor Ayek glanced at the bay exit, which remain sealed.

  ‘Nobody to greet us,’ she observed. ‘This isn’t the reception I was hoping for.’

  The whine of ion engines caught Evelyn’s attention and she looked over her shoulder to see two of the Galactic Fleet’s Skyhawk fighters flash by in close formation, low enough and close enough to the landing pad for her to see the pilots looking down at them as they passed by.

  ‘They’re checking us out,’ she said. ‘It shouldn’t be too long now.’

  As if in answer, the landing pad exit opened with a hiss and a double line of armed troopers jogged out. Morla’syn infantry, their pallid skin stark against dark navy blue combat suits and heavy long–barrelled plasma rifles, jogged in pairs and split up to surround the landing pad. Every one of them was at least eight feet tall, and despite slim physiques they moved with extraordinary grace and speed.

  As soon as the troops were in position, their rifles activated, new figures emerged from the bay entrance. Evelyn watched in amazement as the various species walked, crawled and in one case fluttered into view.

  She glanced at Idris and saw the same look of amazement on his face despite his efforts to cover it up. It had been many decades since the Icari had brokered first contact between humans and other species, an event that had heralded the beginning of mankind’s journey into deep space. Many species had been encountered, but it was already becoming obvious that the degree to which humanity had been exposed to them was limited, for Evelyn did not recognise any of the species confronting them now. The last of them, an amorphous blob of gelatinous transparent liquid encased in a thin membrane, travelled out to meet them on a motorised platform. The blob pulsed and glowed with bioluminescent light not dissimilar to Qayin’s luminous tattoos, and although Evelyn could see no evidence of true eyes, ears or mouth, there was bizarre intelligence to the way in which the light glowed within its body, as though she recognised emotions there in the same way as she would recognise muscle movements in the face of another human.