Baldwin's Legacy: The Complete Series

by Hystad, Nathan

  He’d spent the better part of a day trying to find anyone who might know where to procure something so rare, and this was his last hope: the least desirable neighborhood in the capital city of Ridele. A few Tekols leaned against a wall, their long dreads covering their eyes. Ven moved past them, nearly tripping on an unconscious man. He stepped over the pitiful creature, half naked, broken glass beside him.

  The building he sought was at the end of the block, its lights dim in the upstairs windows, and Ven tried the door, finding it locked. He should have stayed in his suite or moved to the ship early. What was he doing out here in the middle of the night like a thief or cutthroat?

  He banged on the door, the sound loud in the dark alley.

  “All right, all right.” An opening slid wide on the tall metal door, revealing bloodshot eyes. “Whaddaya want?”

  Ven wore a hood and kept it over his forehead. “Kriz told me to see Teel about something private.”

  “Is that so?”

  “That is so.”

  “Maybe you ought to tell me what it is you want with Teel, and I’ll decide if you can enter.” The eyes shifted side to side, as if seeking more visitors in the alley behind Ven.

  Ven leaned in. “En’or. I am in the market for some En’or.”

  “Kick me in the Vastness!” the man said. “It’s been a while since I’ve heard anyone in the market for that.”

  The metal viewer slid shut, and seconds later, the door pressed inward. A tiny man holding a stool motioned Ven inside. “I’m Teel. Watch your step.”

  Ven avoided a few boxes and moved into the abode, cautiously scanning the room. It smelled like an animal’s pen, and there were containers and half-filled glasses everywhere. “You live here?”

  “Sure. You looking for a place to crash, friend?” The man was half his height, and he eyed Ven strangely.

  “No. Only the En’or.” The thought of sleeping in this hovel was enough to make Ven wish he’d never heard of Nolix.

  “En’or. That’s the stuff those freaks use… you know the ones? The telekemsnicks…”

  Ven didn’t correct him or feel insulted. When dealing with inferior creatures, offense should never be taken. “That’s correct. I have a… client seeking the health attributes of it.”

  “Health attributes, hey?” Teel rummaged through cabinets, tossing bags and papers all around the room as he went.

  Ven kept his mouth shut, anxious to see if Teel had really obtained any En’or. The idea that someone had accessed the Ugna amplifier would have sent ripples through his people back home, but now, he was hopeful it was true.

  “Here we go.” Teel lifted a hand up, showcasing a vial exactly like the one in Ven’s room.

  He had to fight the urge to throttle the man and take what belonged to his people. “That will suffice,” Ven said, his voice controlled.

  “This is rare. Almost impossible to find,” Teel said, a grin over his stunted face.

  “Then you have no use for it,” Ven said.

  Teel appeared to consider this. “Are you trying to pull a fast one on me? I say it’s worth far more because it’s so hard to come by.”

  “But nearly useless to those that aren’t Ugna, as you’ve said.”

  “Three thousand…”

  The door burst open behind Ven, sending him sprawling to the ground. Ven felt the energy net circle overhead, pulling tightly around him. Teel dropped the vial, and it clattered near Ven. Using his Talent, Ven lifted the tube, moving it through the air. Teel watched this with wide eyes, but the Tekol task force didn’t seem to notice. They were too busy searching through Teel’s shelves.

  Ven was rolled onto his back, the vial slipped into a hidden pocket inside his shirt.

  One of the Tekol women crouched low, tugging his hood from his face, and she stepped away, gasping. “Sir, you’re going to want to see this.”

  A man approached, even larger than Brax, and he placed his hands on his hips as he stared at Ven lying there on the dirty floor. “What are the chances?”

  Two

  Tom paced outside the room. The sun was just beginning to climb, peeking through the Ridele high-rises. He stopped at the glass window, rapping his knuckles on it again. “Can someone tell me what’s going on?”

  “We’ll be right with you, Captain,” a Tekol woman said.

  “Captain, is everything all right?” Reeve asked, and Tom was relieved to see a familiar face.

  “I don’t know. I was summoned here, but that was an hour ago. No one’s telling me anything.” Tom had only heard them mention that one of his crew members had been found in the home of a dealer of illicit materials. That wasn’t surprising. It wasn’t up to Tom to babysit each and every member of Constantine at all times.

  Reeve walked over to the glass, and Tom stood to the side as she spoke hurriedly with the woman behind the counter. The door hissed as it opened, and Reeve motioned for Tom to step in before her.

  “How did you do that?” Tom asked his chief engineer.

  “Magic. Also, she’s my mother’s friend’s sister.” Reeve wiggled her eyebrows, and despite the circumstances, Tom laughed.

  “Of course she is. Did you find out what this was all about?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “She didn’t have any information.”

  Ridele was a massive city, with a hundred million people residing within its limits. Tom thought this enforcement office was huge, but Reeve had told him there were over a hundred similar facilities spread out across the metropolis. The notion made him long for his ship again.

  They sat in a crowded waiting room: parents crying over wrongful detentions, husbands coming to bail out wives found in unscrupulous acts. The longer they sat there, the more Tom hated what their society had become. Was there no way to improve the Concord? If this was their capital, what kind of example were they setting?

  A door opened, and a burly uniformed Tekol walked in, his hair cut short, unlike most Tekol. He nodded at Tom and smiled at Reeve. “I didn’t expect the great Captain Baldwin to actually show up. Come with me.”

  Tom followed, with Reeve close behind. “What’s this about?”

  The man shut a door, pointing toward a cell beyond. “The Ugna. We found him at a notorious dealer’s house. We thought it best to alert you immediately.”

  Ven sat beyond the glowing bars of energy, staring at the ground. Tom had never seen him any way but proper, with a clean uniform on, a rigid posture, and a calm demeanor. He was the opposite of that now.

  The officer powered down the cell barrier and walked to the exit. “He’s all yours, Captain.” He paused at the door, leaning in. “I heard about what you did out there.” He pointed up, indicating space. “Pretty incredible. Thank you.”

  Tom could only say one thing: “You’re welcome.” And with that, the man departed, leaving the three Constantine crew members alone.

  “By the Vastness, Ven. What were you doing… Never mind. Let’s get out of here,” Tom said, and Ven stood, towering over him, a hunch to his back.

  Reeve, never one to miss the chance at some hearty mocking, slowed to match pace with Ven. “So, you’re into some pretty freaky stuff? I didn’t think the Ugna would resort to mind-altering drugs.”

  “It’s not like that,” Ven said.

  “Then tell us what it is like,” Reeve said.

  Tom listened as they exited the station, heading onto the busy streets. There were people everywhere, and he found the noise and heat bothersome. His shuttle was parked across the street and past a few city blocks. He shook his head, stalking away, wishing to be gone from the planet as quickly as possible.

  “You wouldn’t understand,” Ven said.

  “Try me,” Reeve offered.

  Tom turned to them as they wound their way through the throngs of people and across the street. “Stop it, Reeve. Let’s head to our ship, and then we can…” He moved his finger between Ven and his own chest. “We… can discuss it.”

  “Fine,” Reeve
pouted, and they eventually arrived at the lander. It was crammed onto a small landing pad, and Tom grunted as he squished through the parking spot. The door sprang open, and he climbed inside, motioning for Ven to have a seat. Brax was already there, and he grinned widely as they entered. “Ven? It was you? This is going to be good.”

  Tom shook his head. “Not you too. Just take us to Constantine.”

  The craft rose, and Tom sat calmly as Brax maneuvered them through the skies, past the residential traffic, over the commercial haulers, and out of the atmosphere. He noticed his chief of security’s disposition change as they emerged into space, and it looked the reverse of what Tom felt. Out here was home, freeing, while below was like the jail cell Ven had been sitting in.

  He peered toward Ven behind him, and the man had regained some of his composure. What in the Vastness had the Ugna been doing scoring drugs on a sketchy Ridele street?

  The trip took half an hour, moving at a tenth impulse by Nolix regulations, and they found Constantine where they’d left her. Even from here, Tom felt goosebumps at the sight of his flagship. It was the perfect balance of ingenuity and power with sleekness and beauty.

  They moved wordlessly, and by the time Brax had docked, Ven appeared normal once again. The second they stepped off the lander, a message came through the speakers of the hangar.

  “Captain Baldwin to the bridge,” the ship’s computer voice said, and Tom frowned. There were only a few people on board, and most of them were in the room with him.

  “Constantine,” Tom said, and his Grandfather’s AI appeared beside him.

  “Yes, sir.” It still felt weird having Constantine say that to him, but it was probably better than having him say “Tommy” or “kid,” like he used to.

  “What’s going on?” Tom asked.

  Constantine glanced at Ven, then at the Daak twins. “I think you’d better go to the bridge, sir. Alone.”

  Frustration boiled over, and Tom left the three officers behind him, making long strides toward the elevators. Constantine followed closely. Tom was tired of all this: the Concord’s demands, the secrecy and hidden motives. He couldn’t wait to leave Nolix behind and begin his mission, like he’d intended from the moment he’d gained captaincy.

  He found the elevator and stepped on. “Bridge.” Seconds later, the doors spread wide, and the computer’s voice spoke.

  “Bridge.”

  It was quiet, the lights on auxiliary mode, the gentle beeping of the sensors chiming from across the room. The viewer showed Nolix, the moon beyond, and the multiple space stations around the world.

  “Baldwin,” a familiar voice said, and he snapped his head over to see Prime Pha’n standing near the edge of the huge screen, staring forward.

  “Pha’n. I thought you were stuck on an ice world, chiseling the ground with a rubber stick,” he said.

  “Dear boy, you’re more like him with each passing year, aren’t you?” She walked toward him, and he hardly recognized her. She was thinner, her flowing robes dwarfing her slight frame. Pha’n appeared older, and it was clear the last two months had been difficult.

  Tom searched for the AI of the man she was referring to, and saw Constantine had vanished. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to give you a warning, Thomas.”

  “Why do I feel like my life will be full of those?”

  “Because this is a difficult role. Any leadership in the Concord will take a toll on those in power. This is a trying time for us, and it will become harder before it improves, mark my word,” she said, motioning for him to have a seat in his captain’s chair. He obliged while she took Treena’s seat.

  “Meaning?” Tom asked.

  “After the Yollox Incursion, a lot changed. Our management was in shambles, and people were promoted beyond their years, your grandfather included. I was twenty-seven Standard cycles old when I became Prime-in-Waiting, and when it came time, they still sought to have someone compete against me,” she said.

  “My grandfather may have mentioned it,” Tom said.

  She raised an eyebrow. “Interesting. There were others as well, all the Founders seeking to step ahead with their own in power.”

  This was news to Tom, but he didn’t understand the relevance. “Can you say what you came here to tell me? I’m growing weary of this…”

  “The Prime-in-Waiting being human is a big deal. Never before has a human been in this position,” she said.

  “And clearly he wasn’t your frontrunner?” Tom asked.

  She shook her head. “I’d heard of him. He’s ambitious, but never in the Fleet, not as you or I have been. He spent two years on Andron before moving to teach at the Academy.”

  “Andron? Constantine’s ship?” Tom asked. Harris was older than him, but not that much.

  “Yes. In the early years of his career, a decade or so before Andron was retired, for lack of a better term,” Pha’n said.

  Tom tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair. “And what are you trying to tell me, but failing miserably at?”

  “Harris will be targeted. The Founders are in disarray, and offering a human Prime will either be the piece that makes the puzzle or what causes it to be destroyed. Either way, the people will want him dead, including the Assembly,” Pha’n said.

  “Who’s the Assembly?” Tom asked.

  She frowned. “My dear boy, you sure didn’t pay attention to your grandfather, did you? Ask Constantine about them sometime. He’ll have enough in his memory banks about that subject to give you a passing understanding.”

  “Should I be concerned for the Prime-in-Waiting’s safety on my ship? Or on the Zilph’i world?” Tom asked.

  “Yes,” Pha’n replied, not directing the answer to just one of his questions, but likely both.

  “Okay, so watch out for assassins. Couldn’t you have warned Harris instead of me?” he asked.

  “I have, but he doesn’t seem to worry about those things. Perhaps the powers behind his seat want him dead, because often a dead martyr accomplishes more than a live hero.” The ex-Prime stood, and Tom rose to stand beside her. She touched his face, her hand cool. “Be cautious. I know you have a good heart, and you’re optimistic and idealistic, like Constantine was. Don’t let it break you. He couldn’t handle it once he saw the underside of the Concord. Don’t be like him. Stay vigilant.”

  Tom clenched his jaw, letting her words soak through him. “I’ll try.”

  She smiled sadly and left him standing on the bridge alone.

  ____________

  Reeve Daak entered the boiler room and smiled. She let out a deep breath, feeling the rush of emotions wash over her. This was home, this was where she belonged. Not on Nolix, not in a courtroom to be judged by admirals, but here in the bowels of a cruise ship, tweaking Star Drive parameters and ensuring the safety and aptitude of a state-of-the-art vessel like Constantine.

  It had been rejuvenating spending time with her parents and friends over the last two months, and she was happy that the powers that be hadn’t quarantined them while awaiting the judgment. Things had worked out, and they were heroes, by all accounts. It was a tough spot to be in, because if they’d failed and ended up stuck on the other side of the wormhole, or had died at the hands of the Statu, the Concord wouldn’t be in the terrible position it was in at the moment.

  But none of that was her concern now; only this ship was. Reeve crossed the immense room, checking the screens along the way. Everything registered as normal, and she stopped at the Bentom ball floating in the center of the Star Drive engine core. Such a minor substance, but so much power.

  “I’m sorry I’ve been away,” she told the Drive. It didn’t reply.

  “It’s quite remarkable,” a voice said from behind her.

  “You’re not supposed to be down here,” she told the man.

  “I’m sorry. I would have scheduled a tour, but I figured it would be easier to beg forgiveness than ask for permission.” Prime-in-Waiting Harris wore a standa
rd uniform, with no rank on his collar. It was a strange sight. He walked in, hands clasped in front of him, scanning the engineering room. “I’d heard it was impressive, but…” He let out a low whistle.

  “It’s pretty special,” she said.

  “Is it true that you had a part in improving the Star Drive’s exhaust function when you were still a student?” he asked.

  She nodded. “I only enhanced the performance by a quarter percent.”

  “That’s more than anyone had done in the past century. Well done,” Harris said.

  His hair was dark, cut short like most men in his position, but his eyes were pale blue, akin to swirling worlds staring at her. “It was quite easy…” Reeve stopped herself, not wanting to sound like she was bragging to the Prime-in-Waiting.

  “What do you think of your captain?” Harris asked.

  The quick subject change threw Reeve for a loop. She guessed this was a tactic, and warning bells rang in the recesses of her mind. “Thomas Baldwin is a great man. One of the best I’ve had the pleasure of meeting,” she said, perhaps laying it on a little thick.

  “That’s what I hear. I met his grandfather a few times,” Harris said. “Was even stationed on the old man’s previous ship.”

  “Andron?” Reeve asked.

  The man nodded. “That’s the one.”

  Andron Loor had been a Tekol hero, a man every single child of her race looked up to. Brax used to run around wearing a pair of Concord pajamas that resembled a uniform, and pretend to be the very first captain of an interstellar vessel. It was the First Vessel that currently adorned the Concord logo.

  “What was it like?” she asked.

  “Not for me. The ship was old, patched together so many times in the War that it hardly ran. By that time, it was ready for retirement, like its previous captain, and all it was used for was glorified freight hauls,” Harris said.