Shadows Bear No Names (The Blackened Prophecy Book 1)

by Oganalp Canatan

  “Your incompetence has cost us the planet!” someone shouted from the other side of the bridge. “Instead of facing the enemy, you acted like a coward!” The owner of the voice pushed his way through the officers. It was Commander Matthews and he wasn’t alone; a squad of marines accompanied him. “Admiral Conway, you have put faith in some strangers and a fairytale.” He pointed accusingly. “Your actions led to the death of over two hundred million people.”

  “Matthews?” Rebecca folded her arms, patiently awaiting the man to finish his words but her temper was rising and the corners of her lips contracted with every word from Matthew’s mouth.

  “You lack the will to command a fleet against an enemy of this magnitude.”

  “Commander Matthews, what has gotten into you! I really do not have time for this charade. I will tell you nicely. Get the hell off my bridge!”

  “Admiral Rebecca Conway, under article two, section two, cause five, I hereby relieve you of duty. Captain Samir, please escort the admiral and these frauds to the brig.”

  Everyone watched the exchange in confusion, not daring to say a word.

  “Captain?” Matthews turned to face the seasoned marine when he saw the man did not move. “I believe I gave you an order.”

  “Sir, kindly, leave me out of it,” Captain Samir took a few steps back, his hands in the air.

  Rebecca stepped forward, moving close to Matthews, “Son,” she growled, “I have been winning wars before your father decided to buy you toys!” She grabbed the commander by the neck, “I suggest you leave this room while you can still walk.”

  “No!” Matthews pushed her back and pointed his gun. “You are relieved of duty.”

  A blast exploded Matthews’ head, scattering his brains all over the tactical console.

  “What the—” The squad leader leveled his weapon at Ga’an but hesitated when the dead man flickered, much like the Baeal ships had, and morphed into a dark-bluish-skinned, bald man. He was Baeal but his appearance was different than the ones they saw on Pendar—albeit with half his head splattered all over the marine squad. Its eyes were white with slightly bluish pupils, all covered with some sort of semi-transparent cornea and he was somewhat smaller.

  Rebecca stared at the dead man for a minute, then turned. “Mr. Ga’an?”

  “Insubordination is punishable by death,” the tall Ancient said. He was the only one who seemed unsurprised. He gave the gun back to the guard standing beside him, who looked ashamed at having let Ga’an take his weapon without noticing.

  “That’s more like it,” Sarah said, wiping tears but smiling at Ga’an.

  “So, this is what happened on your ship, son?” Brother Cavil asked, looking at the dead Baeal in disgust. “You said your doctor attacked you.”

  “Ours looked different, deformed. Incomplete. This man”—Ray nodded at the dead alien—“he looked like the real deal to me.”

  “Except for his sudden change in character. I should have seen it earlier,” Rebecca allowed herself to smile, waving one of the ensigns to handle the cleaning. “You are an interesting man, Mr. Ga’an.” Her face hardened immediately after the small crack she had shown. “Mr. Ga’an, I have to ask you to help Captain Samir locate any other intruders. Start with key locations like the engine room and the armory.” She gave another look at the dead alien on the floor. “I believe we will find our own Matthews’s body somewhere in the ship as well.”

  Ga’an nodded respectfully and accompanied the marines from the bridge.

  She turned to face Raymond Harris. “Mr. Harris, what happened on that planet exactly?”

  “As I said, they were already there when we landed,” the man said. “We tried to save the statuette, but some hologram appeared and the Arinar melted after I touched it.”

  “Hologram?” Rebecca raised an eyebrow.

  “More like a transmission,” Ray explained. “It was a Baeal but he was disguised as a human, just like Commander Matthews. He said his name is Goehring.”

  “Goehring?” Rebecca asked, narrowing her eyes. “Theobald Goehring?”

  “Yes.”

  “By the gods!” Rebecca turned and ran to the communications terminal, pushing aside the liaison officer. She pressed a few buttons and entered her command code. “This is Admiral Rebecca Conway, patch me to Eberhardt!”

  Raymond Harris and the others followed her with questioning eyes. Rebecca raised her head and this time, had no strength left to hide her fear.

  “Theobald Goehring is one of the four Sky Marshals of Consortium fleet…”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  ROTTEN TO THE CORE

  “That man’s a Sky Marshal of the fleets?” Ray’s jaw dropped.

  “Yes,” Rebecca said. She was still trying to reach Eberhardt and the board of directors but the relay station on Mars was unable to forward the signal to Earth. “Something is wrong.” She leaned back, giving up.

  “What do you mean?” Sarah stood looking at the monitor with her.

  “Look,” Rebecca explained patiently, “the man has access to everything about the fleet. Codes, task force movements, personnel files, defense grid codes. He probably knows about the rendezvous as well.”

  “The rendezvous?”

  “The cargo ship bringing the other stone. We are to meet with CTC Birdie for the transfer. We did not want to attract attention. A small armored transport is carrying the Arinar.” She left the communications station and went to check in with Reverend Marcus and his son. It was too late to prevent the damage done by this Baeal posing as Goehring—she had to focus on stopping him from inflicting more.

  “Any ideas, Reverend?” she asked. The elder was working on the data he and Brother Cavil had gathered through the net while Ray and the others were trying to save Mara’tthane.

  “Well”—the elderly man scratched his hair thoughtfully—“there is no doubt Mr. Harris here is the only one who can activate the stones.” Reverend Marcus brought out an image of ancient scriptures taken from one of the temples on Bunari. “Here,” he marked a particular spot, circling some of the symbols. “These symbols here say the Lohil, and only the Lohil can interact with the Arinar. I am now certain that the Lohil acts as the sixth stone, a hub for all the Arinar.”

  “It also seems the stones are somewhat connected to one another,” his son added. “We believe it is also possible to link them and use against the Baeal as one. Like six stones acting as one, big Arinar.”

  “How are we supposed to link them?” Ray looked at the two stones on the projection table before them.

  “That is not clear,” Reverend Marcus admitted. “I wish Ga’an knew more. The scriptures are ambiguous, telling about the Lohil tying the five Arinar to his soul to prevent the Nightfall.”

  “Great.” Ray frowned.

  “Any more information about this Nightfall?” Rebecca asked.

  “Not exactly.” Reverend Marcus scratched his nose this time. “However, I am fairly certain now these scriptures predate the Nucteel. Ga’an’s people simply translated the passages and adapted the teachings into their own belief system in time. Perhaps after the Baeal invasion Ga’an talked about.”

  “Ga’an said it was their final hour. His people’s last defense,” Ray said.

  Reverend Marcus pursed his lips. “It is what Ga’an says but it does not explain the ruins and other things we had discovered about the Nucteel. Perhaps something happened after Ga’an found himself near that Baeal gate.”

  “We’re lost in translation then?” Ray frowned.

  “It is possible,” Reverend Marcus nodded. “But if they translated it right and if I am correct with my own, then I would say this Nightfall was something so horrifying, Baeal themselves were terrified by it.”

  “Something terrifies those things gives me the chills, old man.”

  “It may very well be a weapon to use against the Baeal,” Rebecca reasoned but Reverend Marcus stopped her short.

  “No. It is described as the end of all li
fe. Like a destroyer of worlds. I do not think something of that magnitude would be a power to be toyed with.”

  “The apparition, he told me I’m the harbinger of doom and I’m to be dealt with before things get worse. So,” Ray shrugged, “if anyone wants to finish the job and be done with it…” He raised his arms and smiled. Next, he was clawing the air for…air.

  Sarah folded her arms. “You babble stupid things again, I’ll punch you twice. In the face, Skipper.”

  Brother Cavil coughed, “Well, son, it is brave of you to sacrifice yourself but even if a bit of these writings are true, we need you to be around for the sake of using the Arinar. However, we do not know what will happen without the Mara’tthane, the lock stone.” The old priest tried not to sound ominous but Rebecca saw Brother Cavil’s hands shake. His voice trembled.

  “What about the fifth stone? This…” Rebecca tried to recall the name.

  “Yrrha, the shield stone,” Reverend Marcus answered. “It is located on Earth, somewhere in South America.”

  “How do you know that?” Ray asked. “We couldn’t use the Ijjok to find it. I was blocked somehow.”

  “From these.” Reverend Marcus pulled another image from the data pad he had, showing a pyramid structure with a mural detailing a war against what looked like winged demons.

  “I know that mural!” Brother Cavil said.

  “Yes, my son. It is the same image as in the temple on Bunari. From what I learned, these murals are only found on the temples with an Arinar in them. I was not certain until I saw your mission footage of Pendar, because the site I worked on my Arinar was long desecrated by imbeciles by the time I arrived at the excavation site.”

  “So, Earth has a temple like this one as well? Why the Ijjok could not locate it?” Rebecca asked.

  “Yes. Yrrha is a shield stone and we do not know what that means. It may very well be shielding itself from such endeavors. Or something else might have happened to the stone.”

  “Then we’ve to presume it’s compromised as well,” Ray frowned. “We don’t know how deep Goehring’s treachery goes.”

  “True,” Rebecca agreed. “A strike team will try to locate the stone. In any case, we will head for Earth after we receive Serhmana. Reports are all fuzzy,” she paused, pursing her lips, “but it seems another gate has appeared near Saturn, similar to the one we had encountered in Samara’s Star.”

  “Great Light,” Brother Cavil murmured, voicing everyone’s thoughts.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  SYSTEM FAILURE

  Lieutenant Fawkes checked the big holographic screen one more time, as he did every other minute. Nothing out of the ordinary; the thirty-two cameras were all silent, showing empty hallways of the sleeping base.

  Fawkes always liked the serene night shift, also referred as the ‘zombie shift’ by guards. His work started at eight o’clock in the evening, standard Earth time, and continued until dawn. By then, most of the personnel would be out of the base premises, at their homes. He didn’t need to be anywhere, not after his girlfriend had kicked him out of the house. The nightshift gave him the time to relax and plan his future. It also helped keeping unwanted questions at bay. If there was no one to ask, he wouldn’t have to face stupid interrogations about his wrecked relationship.

  He turned to his read—the latest issue of Galactic Heroes—hoping he’d be able to land a post on board one of those Consortium dreadnoughts they introduced every other week. Since Helen was out of his life, there was nothing restricting him from travelling space.

  ***

  A shadow passed through the main corridor, right under the security. The cameras had the ability to switch between modes to catch active cloaks but whoever set the grid hadn’t even thought of actually being under attack, let alone by an invisible enemy. After all, they were deep within the core systems; the seat of the Consortium.

  Once clear of the camera’s range, the shadow flickered and the silhouette morphed into a man in black clothing. Eremite Shevchenko looked around with calculating eyes and found the grate his mission plan mentioned, connected to the main airshaft.

  “I am in,” he whispered.

  “Good, Eremite. Continue to the server room,” a layered, deep voice echoed in his ears.

  Shevchenko went toward the wall and put his hands on the cold surface, scanning for something. He found what he was looking for within seconds and pulled a metal marble out of his coat-pocket. He placed the small, round object on a spot on the wall and stepped back. One…two…three…The marble made a cracking sound and sent sparks throughout the surface of the wall, melting the joints of the grate the moment he finished counting.

  Eremite Shevchenko removed the mine from the wall and opened the grate, crawling inside the ventilation tunnel. He checked the control box placed inside the tunnel and nodded in satisfaction—the motion sensors were offline. Someone had the solid idea of placing a security control box somewhere no one would guess. But Shevchenko wasn’t an ordinary intruder.

  He followed the tunnel, making very little sound and climbed to the second floor. He heard footsteps near another grate on the second floor but decided not to incapacitate the two guards patrolling. His orders were to remain a ghost unless conflict was unavoidable.

  He patiently waited for the guards to disappear past the far end corner and pushed the grate off, dropping into the air duct. He pulled his left sleeve up to reveal a bracelet on his wrist. Touching the thing brought up a holographic schematic of the building. The marker he’d put earlier blinked, showing him the path to his objective. Shevchenko turned the map off and replaced the grate. He ran for the second room to the right, leaving no trace behind.

  ***

  The blast door was a ten-inch thick titanium block, designed to keep away intruders. The room had huge air tunnels connecting to the surface but it had several layers of security measures, and it would be hard to pass through a five-meter long fan without turning it off. That would alert the guards and he didn’t want it. The intel said two armed guards stood inside the corridor behind the door and four more in the matrix chamber. He could easily take down the six guards, but the risk of setting off an alarm would ruin the whole operation. The man knew better; his boss wouldn’t let him do that, or any other future errors for that matter. He gulped and turned his attention back on his job.

  He pulled out a tiny disc from his gadget arsenal and held it on the keypad near the huge door. After a touch of few buttons on his wrist band, the disc beeped twice and the keypad lit green, swinging the impenetrable door wide open. The Creator is with me on this beautiful day.

  The guards inside jumped from their spots, not expecting visitors. One of the guards reached for his communicator badge but stopped when the huge door opened wide.

  The corridor was empty. The taller guard signaled his colleague to check it out and the chunky man carefully made his way to the corridor, waiting to be attacked with every step.

  To his surprise, the place was empty and everything seemed to be in order.

  “Fawkes,” he touched his communicator and hailed the control room.

  “What’s up Morgan?”

  “You saw anything weird?”

  “Negative, all is quiet up here,” Fawkes’ voice echoed from the communicator and into the empty hallway. “Is something wrong?”

  “A glitch probably,” Morgan replied. “Better send a tech team in the morning.” He went back inside, putting away his gun and stretching his sleepy, numb arms. The huge door closed behind him and the keypad beeped once, confirming the lock. Neither of the guards noticed the blurry shadow passing right by them.

  Shevchenko de-cloaked once inside the matrix chamber. Four guards were patrolling the room, as per the mission notes. Two were on the platforms nearby, hovering over the huge farm of computers centered in the room. The other two guards walked the room on a random path.

  “I am inside the matrix chamber.”

  “Good. You will upload the virus to the sixth tower,
Eremite Shevchenko.”

  “If the Creator wills.”

  He had to be precise and cunning if he was to succeed. If he harmed the guards in any way, sooner or later his presence would be known and people would start searching for signs of tampering with the servers. Even these over-confident idiots would be able to figure that out. He was expendable but he couldn’t afford jeopardizing the mission.

  Shevchenko activated his cloak again, becoming invisible to the naked eye. He tried not to make any sound, slowly moving through the computer towers.

  Number six; he came in front of the tower in the middle. The next part was tricky; he had to remove the casing of the rack and attach the data drive to the core. His cloak still had minutes to go before drying his charge but removing the casing meant noise and movement outside his cloak field.

  He observed the guard movements for a while and decided to risk activating his hearing augmentation, draining more of his power. The moment the dark figure activated his nano-enhanced hearing, the previously inaudible noises in the room intensified to a level like the crescendo of an orchestra. The breathing of the guards was like winds of autumn and their footsteps sounded like drum rolls. If he wanted, he could have heard the beating of their hearts. He shook his head, clearing his mind. He was new to the world of augmentation and it was fairly easy to lose oneself in zeal. When Archibald sent him to do the work of the Creator, he’d thought it was penance for his sins. Instead, he’d become a tool to spread the message. Shevchenko had no idea how Archibald Cosmon and this mysterious figure were connected but the Prophet had spoken and his wishes were law. Shevchenko now belonged to this man. Any eremite would die to be in his place.

  When the guards were clear, he pulled the rack with one firm move and opened the casing. He connected the small chip to one of the data hubs on the core and activated it.

  A cough boomed right behind Shevchenko, almost stopping his heart but the intruder relaxed when he realized his augmented hearing had enhanced the sound from behind the towers.