“What about Lucien?” Addy Gallia asked.
“A good question,” Wheeler replied, tearing her gaze away from Garek to address the other woman. She rubbed her chin as she considered the matter. Lucien had refused to follow orders, but it turned out that he’d been right to do so. If they hadn’t negotiated with the Faros, New Earth wouldn’t be in jeopardy right now. Besides, they only had four officers that they could send looking for the Forge. “I’m going to drop the charges against him,” Wheeler decided.
Garek’s gaze sharpened. “He refused to follow orders, and he would have sacrificed Astralis. You’d be dead right now if we’d left him in command.”
“Perhaps,” Wheeler replied. “But everyone else would be safe. That’s what a good commander does—he minimizes casualties, and that’s exactly what Lucien was doing. You, however, appear to have based your decisions solely on concern for your daughter.”
Garek’s lip twitched at the mention of her, but he said nothing.
“Report to the hangar bay and get ready. Pick one of the Faro shuttles for your mission, and consolidate whatever supplies you can from the others. Remember, you won’t be able to take any non-Faro items with you. Meanwhile, I’ll see that Lucien is released from the brig and sent to join you there.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Garek replied.
“Our fate is in your hands,” Wheeler said, looking to each of them in turn. “Failure is not an option. Dismissed.”
They all nodded and saluted her before turning to march off the bridge. Garek led the way, while Addy and Brak trailed behind him. Wheeler watched them go, wondering if they actually had any chance of success.
Failure might not be an option, but it’s definitely a strong possibility.
Chapter 12
The Lost Etherian Fleet
Lucien watched as Chief Councilor Tyra Ortane strode into his cell. A doctor followed her in, and they explained the situation with his dead clone. He listened politely to what they had to say, but he wasn’t ready to consent to anything yet.
Lucien ran a hand along his hairless scalp, and leaned back against the wall behind his cot as he considered the offer. He began bouncing his knee with restless energy. Being cooped up in the Gideon’s brig was making him stir-crazy.
Another knock sounded at Lucien’s door before he could make a decision.
“Yes?” Tyra answered, half turning to face the solid metal door of the cell. A small window in the top of the door allowed them to see out, but Lucien couldn’t get a good look at whoever was standing there.
“Admiral Wheeler is here to see the prisoner, Madam Councilor.”
Lucien recognized the voice of the Marine Sergeant assigned to guard his cell. The admiral came to see me personally? he wondered. That could either be very good or very bad.
“Let her in...” Tyra replied. Her tone was wary, making Lucien suspect this visit wasn’t a good thing.
The door slid open and Wheeler strode in, followed by a pair of Marine bots.
Tyra and the doctor stepped aside, and Admiral Wheeler moved to stand just a few feet from Lucien’s cot with hands clasped behind her back. Lucien smiled and patted an empty space on the cot beside him. “Make yourself comfortable, Admiral.”
Her eyes narrowed at that. “No thank you, Commander.”
“Commander? I thought I’d been stripped of my rank?”
Wheeler frowned. “Have you heard about our recent contact with Etherus?”
Lucien’s brow furrowed. Contact with Etherus? “Doesn’t contacting him violate your treaty with the Faros?” he asked.
“That treaty was bound to be violated, anyway. I’d like to make this brief, so keep your mouth shut and listen.” Wheeler proceeded to explain everything that Etherus had told them.
Lucien couldn’t believe it. The result of negotiating with the Faros had turned out to be a lot worse than he’d imagined. The visions that the extra-dimensional Polypuses had shared with him of Etheria being conquered by the Faros obviously weren’t accurate. Apparently they couldn’t see the future, after all.
“I was right,” Lucien said when Admiral Wheeler finished speaking. “We never should have agreed to negotiate.”
“Perhaps,” the admiral replied. “Regardless, we can’t change the choices we’ve made. All that’s left is to make better ones from here. Etherus told us that if we destroy the Forge, all of the Abaddons will be killed, and all of his slaves and subjects will finally be free to defy him.”
“If that’s true, then the Forge must be very well-defended.”
“Or well-hidden,” Wheeler replied. “The first step is to find it. We won’t be able to plan an attack until we know where it is. That’s where you and your crew mates come in. Thanks to Abaddon, you’ve been disguised to look and sound like Faros. You can use those disguises to infiltrate the enemy and find the Forge. What do you say, Commander?”
“What did the others say?” Lucien replied.
“They’re already preparing to leave.”
Lucien turned and nodded to Councilor Tyra. “What about her request that I integrate with my clone?”
Wheeler regarded the councilor with eyebrows raised. “If he integrates, he won’t be able to stay with you, Councilor. It would be better for you to keep your husband by your side while we wait for his clone to return.”
Tyra’s expression twisted with grief, and she shook her head. “He won’t be able to stay with me. He’s dead, killed in the riots. The doctor who attended him managed to extract his data, but we still need a body to put it in.”
“I see,” Wheeler replied. “I’m sorry to hear that. If that’s the case, you might still be better off waiting for a new clone to be grown for him on New Earth.”
Tyra frowned. “By then we may already be overrun, and there’s no guarantee that we’ll win. Lucien will stand a better chance of success if he has something to lose. This Lucien doesn’t know he has a family. Mine does. Integrate them and he’ll have more to live for and more reason to fight.”
“Good point,” Wheeler replied. She regarded him once more. “Well? What do you say?”
Lucien’s head was spinning. “In exchange for my help finding the Forge, all of the charges against me will be dropped.”
“Done,” Wheeler said, nodding.
“And as for integrating...” Lucien couldn’t explain it, but he felt strangely compelled to do so. Maybe it was because the thought of his clone being dead and languishing in limbo as static data made his skin crawl. Or maybe it was because Tyra’s arguments had swayed him. He had to admit he would be more motivated to find the Forge if he had a family to think about... two little girls. The family he’d always wanted but never had. “I’ll do it,” Lucien decided. He nodded to the doctor Tyra had brought with her. “I’m ready when you are, Doc.”
“I’ll go get my equipment,” the doctor replied, nodding back.
* * *
The Lost Etherian Fleet
Lucien woke up screaming: “Atara!” He sat up quickly, his eyes wide and his breathing shallow. He could feel his entire body buzzing with adrenaline, and overwhelming concern for his children. “What... what happened to Atara? Is she okay? What about Theola? Where—”
“Shh...” Tyra whispered and squeezed his hand. “She’s okay. They’re both okay. Take your time. Deep breaths.”
Lucien looked around, shaking his head. This wasn’t the corridor where he’d been knocked out. It wasn’t even a med center. And why is my head so cold? He reached up to find all of his hair mysteriously missing.
Then more memories came rushing in to fill the gaps, and he understood. He was in the brig. He’d been arrested for defying orders from Admiral Wheeler.
He looked around quickly. Tyra and his doctor were the only ones present. “Where is Atara? And Theola?” Lucien asked, his gaze returning to his wife.
Tyra bit her lower lip and tears welled in her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” he demanded, his heart suddenly pounding again.<
br />
Tyra released his hand so she could wipe her eyes. “Abaddon didn’t release Atara. She’s back to the way she was. Infected with his consciousness.”
“What?” Lucien blinked rapidly as he tried to process that.
“Etherus told me she’s still infected, and I think he’s right. She’s not acting normal, even though all the others former agents seem to be fine. Abaddon singled Atara out because of me, because of the way I spoke to him during the negotiations.”
Conflicting thoughts raced through Lucien’s head. He felt a flash of anger toward his wife, but it quickly faded at the sight of the tears slipping down her cheeks.
“I never should have provoked him...” she said.
Lucien reached for Tyra’s hands and pulled her down into his lap. “Listen to me. Abaddon is the one who shouldn’t have provoked us. I’m going to find the Forge, and when I do, we’re going to kill him.”
“Etherus said we’ll see Atara again, but...”
“Then we will,” Lucien said.
Tyra nodded slowly, uncertainly. “Admiral Wheeler suggested we use her to feed misinformation to the Faros.”
“What?” Lucien shook his head. “She’s a five-year-old for frek’s sake! Not a weapon! Don’t let that happen, Tyra.”
“I won’t,” she replied, shaking her head.
Lucien grimaced and reached up to wipe fresh tears from her cheeks with his thumbs.
“You need to go before the Faros arrive and the battle starts,” she said. “The others are waiting for you.”
Lucien pulled her lips down to his and kissed her long and hard. When she withdrew, he replied, “I need to say goodbye to the girls first.”
Tyra shook her head. “You can’t. Atara thinks you’re dead, so she won’t expect to see you again, and if she does, she’ll wonder where you went. She might find a way to warn Abaddon.”
“What about Theola?” Lucien asked. It was one thing not being allowed to say goodbye to Atara—with Abaddon in control of her again, the real Atara might not even get to hear his goodbyes, but Theola deserved to hear them, and he needed to see her.
“We can’t risk it,” Tyra replied, shaking her head. “Theola might say something to make Atara suspicious.”
Lucien exhaled shakily and scowled. “I didn’t expect this to be so hard. Maybe I shouldn’t have integrated.”
Tyra shook her head. She stood up from his lap and pulled him to his feet. “I’m glad you did, because at least now I get to say goodbye. I love you, Lucien.”
“I love you, too.” He wrapped her in a fierce hug and started to kiss her again, but this time a knock at the door interrupted them.
“Madam Councilor, Commander Ortane—we need to hurry.”
Tyra pulled away with a grimace. “Go,” she said. “And... may Etherus be with you.”
He arched an eyebrow at that. Tyra was far from a believer, but she knew that he was. He nodded at that acknowledgment of his faith.
Admiral Wheeler had said that Etherus wasn’t going to help them, but maybe that wasn’t entirely true. Maybe He would still find some way to help.
“Keep an eye on Atara,” he said, remembering the obsession she’d had with hurting him and Theola while she’d been under Abaddon’s influence on Astralis. “And keep Brak close.”
“I will,” Tyra replied.
Before either of them could say anything else, the overhead lights flashed dark crimson and a klaxxon blared, followed by a muffled announcement coming from the corridor beyond his cell: “General quarters, general quarters! All hands to battle stations! This is not a drill.”
Lucien blinked. It’s too late! They’re here.
The door to Lucien’s cell slid open, and the Marine sergeant stepped in, looking grim. “We’re out of time, Commander. You need to come with me, now.”
“We’re under attack already?” Tyra asked, her blue eyes huge and blinking.
The sergeant’s gaze shifted to her. “Not yet, Madam Councilor, but I’m told that our ships on the other side of the wormhole are coming through with scan data that shows a massive Faro fleet headed this way.”
“How long before they arrive?” Tyra replied.
“I don’t know, ma’am, but if we’re already at general quarters, it can’t be long. Commander—” The sergeant nodded to Lucien. “—your shuttle is leaving soonest possible. We need to hurry.”
“Lead the way, Sergeant.”
“Yes, sir.”
The sergeant matched action to words, taking off at a run. Lucien raced after him. He flicked a glance over his shoulder and waved to Tyra as he crossed the threshold of his cell. She waved back just before they lost sight of each other.
Lucien grimaced as he looked away. This is going to be close....
Chapter 13
The Lost Etherian Fleet
Lucien arrived in Hangar Bay Seventeen and raced across the deck toward the Faro shuttle that the Marine Sergeant escorting him indicated. As he drew near, he saw Addy waving to him from the top of the boarding ramp. She was already wearing a sleeveless black Faro robe.
Lucien glanced at the Marine Sergeant and nodded to him before running up the ramp. Addy stepped aside to let him into the shuttle, and he waited in the airlock while she cycled the outer doors shut and raised the landing ramp.
He watched her with a frown, remembering that she’d done nothing to stop Garek’s mutiny, but those memories felt distant now, and somehow less significant than his new memories from Astralis.
That was the life he felt most drawn to now—his life with Tyra and his two daughters. His memories of Addy felt more like memories of an ex-girlfriend, except that his memories of her were scattered between his memories of his family. Remembering his relationship with Addy was like remembering an extra-marital affair he’d never had.
Addy spared a glance at him as she moved to cycle the inner doors open. “Stop it,” she said.
“Stop what?”
“Stop looking at me like that. There was no time to intervene before Garek stunned you,” she said.
Lucien frowned. “I know.” He decided not to tell her that he’d actually been thinking about his recent integration and what that meant for the two of them. Did she even know that he’d been integrated with the other Lucien? Probably not, but now wasn’t the time to talk about it. He shook his head. “You could have done something after he shot me,” Lucien replied.
“Yeah, two mutinies—that’s exactly what we needed. Besides, if we’d sacrificed Astralis, there’d be no way to bring all of those people back now. At least this way they have a chance for survival.”
The inner doors irised open and Lucien followed Addy into the shuttle. The inside looked less alien than he’d expected: gray metal walls and scuffed metal floors, exposed conduits in the ceiling, glow panels lining the bulkheads, deck, and ceiling. This could have passed for a shuttle from New Earth. Sealed metal crates were stacked to the ceiling on both sides of the compartment where they now stood—the cargo bay?
“There’s no point arguing about it now,” Lucien decided.
Addy nodded to him. “Then stop taking it so personally. It has nothing to do with us. I still care about you just as much as ever.”
Lucien nodded slowly in turn, but still said nothing about his integration. “Where are Garek and Brak?”
“Up in the cockpit, trying to figure out the flight controls.”
“We should probably join them and get an update on the situation.”
“Yeah...” Addy trailed off uncertainly, her eyes narrowed in bemusement.
“Lead the way,” he prompted.
Addy walked to the end of the cargo bay. She keyed the doors open and took him through a small galley, then down a short corridor with six doors, and finally to the cockpit. There were only two seats, one for the pilot, and one for the co-pilot.
“Small ship,” Lucien commented.
Garek turned. “Good, you’re here.” Like Addy he was already wearing one of the Faro�
�s black robes, while Brak wore one of the shapeless black garments of a Faro slave—a shadow robe, Lucien remembered it was called. “Brak—let the Gideon know we’re leaving.”
“Yess,” Brak replied, hissing softly. The shuttle hovered up, and the hangar bay sprawled out to all sides of them with a dozen more matte black Faro shuttles, as well as several of the gray, cylindrical ones from Astralis that had carried refugees aboard.
“Any sign of the Faros yet?” Lucien asked.
“Not yet,” Garek replied. “But our sensors can’t see through the wormhole, and the last of our fleet is already through. We’re sending probes back for updates, but I’m told they could be here in less than two hours.”
“Is that enough time for us to get away?”
“This shuttle’s fast, but it’s still going to take the better part of an hour to cross the wormhole. From the other side we can start calculating a jump somewhere else, but we’ll need at least half an hour to get clear of the interdiction field around the Red Line.”
“So it’s going to be close.”
“Very close,” Garek replied.
Lucien blew out a breath and silence fell inside the cockpit. He watched as Garek banked the shuttle toward the fuzzy blue static shield covering the exit of the hangar bay.
“I’m sorry about Nora,” he thought to say as Garek accelerated toward the shield. He’d been there to witness Director Nora Helios’s death in the Resurrection Center. Now that he had both sets of his memories to draw on, he understood who both Nora and Garek were, and who they were to each other. Garek’s daughter, Nora, was the reason he’d joined Astralis’s mission. She was the only person in the universe that he really cared about, and now she was dead.
Garek gave no reply, but Lucien noticed his shoulders stiffen at the mention of his daughter. They passed through the opening of the hangar with a sizzle of static shields scraping theirs, and as soon as they were out, the cockpit canopy became crowded with stars.
“You sure you’re up to flying us out of here?” Lucien asked. “I can take over from here.”
Dark Space Universe (Book 3): The Last Stand Page 9
