Defiance (Atlantia Series Book 5)

by Dean Crawford

  Idris, his shoulders sagging, stood for a moment in deep contemplation, the silence drawing out around him. Then, slowly, he looked up at Rh’yll.

  ‘I’m sorry councillor but I cannot do that,’ he said slowly. ‘If you take the stance that our refusal to cooperate will result in our destruction, then we have gained nothing by coming here. We seek allies, not enemies; assistance, not ultimatums. If you cannot help us, then we shall go on our way.’

  Rh’yll’s gelatinous form reared up once more, but before he could reply Governor Gredan strode to the platform and one flabby arm pointed at Idris.

  ‘That’s no longer your call to make!’ he roared.

  ***

  XXII

  ‘It’s too damned risky!’

  Governor Ishira Morle walked alongside Andaim as he marched down to the storage depot and the Marines guarding the entrance made way for him to pass. The doors hissed open and Andaim walked inside.

  ‘We don’t have any other way of getting a good look at that fleet and what they’re hiding,’ Andaim replied. ‘We’re sitting here at the mercy of a Council that claims to be absolutely transparent and yet is anything but. If they permit us to ship the civilians down to the surface, I want you to do it.’

  ‘Deception isn’t their game,’ Ishira insisted.

  ‘And the Icari Line?’ Andaim shot back. ‘Was that not a deception?’

  ‘They feared what The Word might become,’ Ishira pointed out. ‘Rightly so, as it turned out. You can hardly blame them.’

  It was Lazarus who replied as they moved to stand before him.

  ‘Ishira is right. The council indeed fears The Word and likely enforced the Icari Line barrier due to that fear. They knew what might happen, and in truth I wish they had been more vigorous in sharing their fears with us, with humanity. It might have spared us the losses for which we now grieve so deeply.’

  Andaim walked up to Lazarus. ‘Have you established contact with Emma?’

  ‘I can sense her,’ Lazarus replied, ‘but I cannot communicate with her. The Morla’syn are using a complex frequency modulation algorithm that I cannot break, possibly due to quantum programming. I do not believe that I will be able to pass any form of message to Emma from here.’

  Andaim turned away from Lazarus. ‘Then there is no way to warn the captain unless somebody goes down there.’

  ‘Which would be a suicide mission,’ Ishira pointed out. ‘Any attempt to get one of our ships around the far side of the planet would be a one way trip ending in a bright flash and families sending flowers. It’s just not possible.’

  Andaim turned to Lazarus. ‘Would you be able to shield a craft from their scanners?’

  Lazarus shook his head, and Andaim wondered briefly whether the scientist could actually feel his body or whether the movement was some kind of deeply programmed habit, a remnant of the human being that Lazarus had once been.

  ‘No craft can leave either Atlantia or Arcadia without being detected,’ he replied, ‘and besides the Morla’syn would never… allow… anything…’

  Lazarus’s voice trailed off and his gaze became vacant, in as much as a hologram’s gaze could, as he stared at the opposite wall. Andaim frowned as Ishira stepped forward.

  ‘What is it?’

  Lazarus did not reply but Andaim could hear the processors in his terminal humming with activity, and the scientist’s holographic lips were trembling with barely whispered words as he seemed to vocalize the new information streaming in toward him.

  Suddenly, his eyes flared wide and he looked directly at Andaim.

  ‘Time has run out,’ he said sharply.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Lazarus turned, looking through the walls of the depot as though peering through Atlantia’s hull and out toward the distant stars beyond.

  ‘The Legion,’ he replied finally, ‘it is here.’

  Andaim felt a tremor of consternation pulse through his abdomen as he paced closer to the scientist’s hologram.

  ‘Where away?’

  Lazarus frowned in concentration, his aged brow creasing and his eyes squinted tightly shut as he focused on some unheard data stream.

  ‘It’s not coming directly from the Legion,’ he whispered as he replied. ‘It’s being relayed somehow, from farther afield. There’s a distress signal going out, very faint, and a reply coming back much stronger. Something here is communicating with the Legion.’

  Andaim’s eyes widened and then he whirled and dashed from the depot with Ishira in hot pursuit. Andaim hit a button on his wrist–com and yelled into it.

  ‘Bridge, battle stations, shields up! Warn the Morla’syn that the Legion is coming!’

  *

  Emma stood in silence on Arcadia’s bridge, Lieutenant Scott sitting in the captain’s chair and looking as though he would rather be anywhere else. Military officers like him were not used to sitting about and doing nothing, especially not after the last three years of being in a constant state of battle–readiness, and now he fidgeted as he scanned the tactical displays for some signal from Captain Sansin.

  ‘It won’t be long now,’ she said to him.

  ‘That’s what I was thinking an hour ago,’ Scott replied with a nervous smile and turned to Lael. ‘Anything?’

  ‘Total comms silence,’ she replied. ‘We’re still being aggressively scanned, but no word from the Morla’syn. Either they haven’t found anything or they’re keeping it to themselves.’

  Lieutenant Scott exhaled noisily and thumped one fist down on the armrest of his chair.

  ‘Damn, I hate all of this sitting about.’

  ‘Hurry up and wait, I think our captain used to say to us,’ Emma said. ‘My father used to say the same things when he…’

  Emma’s lips turned numb suddenly and she reached out for the grab rail as she lost her balance and swayed from one side to another. He eyes lost focus and she felt her breathing constrict in her chest as a wave of bitter cold swept over her. She saw Arcadia’s bridge turn on its side and then felt a distant thump as she landed on the deck.

  ‘Emma?!’

  The voices sounded distant, muted. She could see, but at the same time as the blinking lights of the bridge she could see an immense, brutally cold darkness, and the wailing of countless tiny voices warbling in her ears.

  ‘Emma?’

  The cold and the voices vanished and she sucked in a deep breath as though awakening from a terrible nightmare. Lieutenant Scott looked down at her, his features pinched with concern as he helped her up into a sitting position.

  ‘What happened? Are you okay?’

  Emma nodded, rubbed her head with one hand as the memory of the brutal cold and the voices crying for surcease faded away in her mind.

  ‘I don’t know what happened,’ she whispered as her eyes focused once again on the surrounding bridge. ‘I heard voices and saw something…’

  The voices echoed in Emma’s head, a dialect that she could not identify, not human and definitely not Morla’syn, but both guttural and precise, almost like the sound of…

  ‘Kordaz’s translator,’ she gasped.

  Emma shot to her feet as a realization bolted like lightning through the field of her awareness.

  ‘Kordaz!’ she almost shouted.

  Lieutenant Scott took her shoulders in his grasp and looked into her eyes. ‘You’re on the bridge, Emma, you’re okay. Kordaz isn’t here, he’s dead. We ejected him out into…’

  ‘Into space,’ Emma cut the lieutenant off, ‘surrounded by Hunters. But they can survive in space for a limited amount of time. I heard them. I could see through Kordaz’s eyes, could feel his pain and the cold. They’re keeping him alive and they’re calling for help!’

  ‘They’re what?’ Scott echoed in disbelief.

  Emma’s features collapsed as she replied. ‘I heard a reply,’ she whispered. ‘The Legion is coming. They know where we are.’

  Suddenly, the tactical officer called out.

  ‘Atlanti
a’s raised her shields!’ he cried. ‘She’s engaging her ion engines!’

  Lieutenant Scott whirled for the command platform as a sudden blaze of activity filled the previously silent bridge.

  ‘Atlantia’s signalling battle stations, full alert and we’ve got incoming signals from the Morla’syn!’ Lael yelled, her voice almost shrill with anxiety.

  ‘On screen!’ Lieutenant Scott snapped.

  The screen flickered into life and a Morla’syn commander leaned close to the lens, his features twisted with indignation.

  ‘Stand down, Arcadia, or we will be forced to fire!’

  ‘We have evidence that the Legion is close by!’ Lieutenant Scott roared back, the bridge bathed in dull red light and the faces of the command crew glowing in the light from their screens as though they were aflame.

  ‘What evidence?!’ the Morla’syn commander snapped. ‘We have detected no signals either incoming or transmitted from this system, and no sign of the Legion or…’

  ‘I’ve got a fix on it!’ Lael called across the bridge, cutting the Morla’syn off, ‘bearing eight six one, elevation two five.’

  Emma turned and saw Lieutenant Scott staring at the tactical display as Arcadia’s optical sensors zoomed in with immense magnification on a tiny target several tens of thousands of cubits away from their position.

  Emma felt her heart leap in shock as she saw a small, revolving ball of black material that looked innocuous enough, like a distant chunk of space rock, but for the metallic glint that caught the light of the red dwarf star.

  ‘I’ll be damned,’ Lieutenant Scott uttered in amazement.

  ‘It’s got a heat signature,’ Lael informed him. ‘It looks like the Hunters are revolving around in a small ball, generating heat in the interior.’

  ‘And keeping Kordaz alive,’ Lieutenant Scott uttered in fascination, and then looked at Emma. ‘You were right.’

  ‘Who is Kordaz?’ the Morla’syn demanded. ‘What is going on here?!’

  Lieutenant Scott glanced at the bridge crew around him and he realized that now there was no option but to admit the truth.

  ‘Kordaz is a Veng’en warrior who was infected with the Legion,’ he explained. ‘It’s a long story but he fought off the infection and has been helping us ever since. Arcadia carried a small number of Infectors aboard, which Kordaz fooled into assisting him, sacrificing himself and allowing us to eject the Hunters out into space. Unfortunately, it seems that they have survived their marooning.’

  The Morla’syn stared at Lieutenant Scott in disbelief. ‘The Legion, it is here. You brought it here?’

  ‘We didn’t bring anything here,’ Lieutenant Scott snapped in reply. ‘The Legion would have followed us anyway, but we’ve detected their signals.’

  ‘How?’ the Morla’syn almost shouted, and Emma saw the destroyer’s bridge also dim its lights to a deep red as they prepared for battle. ‘How can you be communicating with The Word?!’

  ‘We’re not!’ Lieutenant Scott shouted back. ‘We have somebody aboard who can hear them when they’re close. Two people in fact. One of them is on the bridge with me now, and the other is…’ Scott broke off as he realized just how impossible it would be for the Morla’syn to understand their position, to believe that humanity really only wanted to fight back and atone for its mistakes.

  ‘Is what?’

  Lieutenant Scott sighed. ‘Is a hologram, a resurrected scientist. He was responsible for creating The Word, and is now helping us to destroy it.’

  The Morla’syn commander glared at Lieutenant Scott for a moment longer, and then the communications screen went blank.

  ‘They’re charging weapons, captain,’ the tactical officer warned. ‘What should we do?’

  Lieutenant Scott looked desperately at the tactical displays and felt the burden of command weigh down upon him with incredible force.

  ‘Battle stations!’ he yelled. ‘Follow Atlantia’s lead!’

  ***

  XXIII

  The immense crowd in the amphitheatre turned their heads, antennae and light–sensitive receptors toward Gredan as Idris whirled to see the governor pointing at the captain with anger distorting his features.

  ‘That man is a liar, and Captain Mikhain a murderer who was recently arrested and should by now have been put on trial by his peers!’

  A rush of gasps and clicks of astonishment rippled through the watching crowd as Gredan stepped up onto the platform, Vaughn and Ayek following him with Meyanna Sansin and attempting not to be intimidated by the vast auditorium around them.

  ‘And who are you?’ Rh’yll demanded.

  The governor introduced himself and his colleagues as Idris hissed at him.

  ‘Do you have any idea what the hell you’re doing?’

  ‘Telling the damned truth!’ Gredan snapped out loud, buoyed by his own self–importance. ‘It makes things happen, captain. You should try it some time.’

  ‘You gave your word that you would allow me to do the talking. You’re playing with thousands of human lives, the last survivors of our world!’ Idris growled.

  ‘As are you,’ Gredan shot back, ‘but at least I am not deceiving the council while I’m doing it!’

  Rh’yll’s amplified voice overpowered both of them.

  ‘Look at you,’ he rumbled. ‘Even on the eve of your own destruction, in the wake of the annihilation of your world, you cannot form a stable alliance and speak as one spirit, one species.’

  Before Idris could respond, Gredan faced Rh’yll.

  ‘My apologies, councillor,’ he soothed, ‘but these are testing times for all of us and a conflict of purpose has erupted since our arrival here at Oassia. I wish that I could stand here and speak to all of you while united with my fellow human beings, but I and my fellow governors have been repeatedly side–lined by the captain and his military staff. I speak for the people, the ordinary men and women still trapped aboard Atlantia and Arcadia, whose voices are rarely heard and never listened to.’

  ‘That’s a lie,’ Mikhain snapped.

  ‘You would know a lie when you hear one, captain,’ Gredan pointed out with a fearsome grin of righteousness. ‘You’ve become something of an expert at deception.’

  ‘We’re not here to discuss the finer points of military command aboard…’

  ‘We’re here to barter for our lives!’ Gredan shouted. ‘And you’re acting out up here without any regard for the people you purport to protect, in the company of a man who has already killed to save his own skin and a woman who is as much a part of The Word as the damned Legion!’

  Gredan’s flabby arm shot out to point at Evelyn, and a rush of horrified gasps went up from the surrounding crowds of dignitaries as around the rim of the amphitheatre the Morla’syn guards lifted their weapons from port–arms and aimed them at her.

  ‘You’ll kill us all,’ Idris snapped at Gredan, ‘and all for your perceived few moments of fame, your last chance at glory.’

  ‘Better to die an honest man,’ Gredan shot back, ‘than a deceitful one.’

  ‘What is going on here?’ Rh’yll demanded, glowering down at them both. ‘How can this woman be a part of The Word? Is this auditorium now infected?!’

  The watching dignitaries recoiled in their seats, those closest to Evelyn covering their mouths and other proboscis with hands and appendages of all kinds.

  ‘Evelyn is a patriot and a skilled fighter pilot,’ Idris said defensively. ‘She is not a part of The Word. This man’s oratory is designed only to obtain power and influence in your eyes.’

  Gredan smiled grimly. ‘Did the good captains’ mention that Evelyn is also a former murderer, and one of many hundreds of convicts aboard Atlantia and Arcadia?’

  More horrified exclamations from the watching crowds and Rh’yll shook his head.

  ‘No, they did not.’

  Gredan’s florid features positively glowed with satisfaction as he turned and looked at Idris. ‘They have also declined to inform you of the
presence of The Legion aboard both vessels along with the very creator of The Word himself aboard Atlantia.’

  Now the effect on the crowd was undeniable. A roar of outrage soared through the auditorium and Rh’yll almost levitated out of his seat as he sought to control both the dignitaries within the amphitheatre and the immense crowds watching from outside and across the planet.

  ‘The Legion is not here,’ Evelyn assured the crowd. ‘Lazarus is slaved to the commands of myself and my sister and cannot act without our acquiescence, a safety measure to prevent Lazarus from the same fate as The Word. Lazarus is in effect a reincarnation, digital but still human.’

  Rh’yll appealed for calm from the delegates surrounding them.

  ‘Both of the human frigates are under constant surveillance and are at least ten planetary diameters away from Oassia,’ he called soothingly, his appendages waving up and down to calm the crowd. ‘At any sign of hostility, the Morla’syn destroyers guarding them will not hesitate the blast them into oblivion.’

  ‘If they get chance!’ a voice shouted from what looked like some kind of insectoid creature, its bulbous tail shimmering as it vibrated in a symphony of communication that was translated into a digital–sounding oratory ‘We all know how fast the Legion can strike!’.

  ‘What if the destroyers themselves become infected?!’ shouted another, a squat, bear–like creature with ageing fangs. ‘They too could turn against us!’

  ‘The destroyers are fully microwave–shielded,’ Rh’yll assured them. ‘None of the Legion can pass through their hulls even if they were attacked.’

  Amid the raucous from the crowd Captain Sansin’s train of thought slammed to a halt as he heard Rhy’ll’s words echoing back and forth through his mind. He froze in motion as he looked up at Rh’yll.

  ‘How would you have known that microwave shielding affects the Legion?’ he asked.

  The noise from the crowd almost drowned Idris’s voice out, but enough of the dignitaries heard it to quieten down. Rh’yll’s bulbous form shuddered as he went on.