“One did.” Oquid seemed about to speak again, but refrained.
“They landed in drop ships, two of them, with the Concord Fleet logo of the First Visitor on the sides. They wore Concord-issued suits, like the ones you two have on now, only darker,” Kaino said.
“Darker, like a dark gray, with the logo here?” Brax tapped his left shoulder.
The man nodded. “That’s right.”
“So they have our old ships; they have our recycled drop suits. They really pilfered our storage stations, didn’t they?” Brax should have known. He actually wasn’t surprised that the Concord had been foolish enough to let the Assembly sneak around under their watch. They were so focused on other things, they hadn’t been able to see the destructive group plotting on the inside.
There were far too many threats within the Concord. With the Statu still out there somewhere, the Founders bickering, and the Assembly making a move, Brax doubted there would be peace for a long time. The only solution was to deal with each issue separately, and since the Assembly were within reach, he wanted to start there. They had to be around still. If the Nek had all been gone, he might have believed they’d abandoned the Belt, but that wasn’t their purpose. He expected an attack, but not here, on Constantine.
“Bridge, come in. This is Lieutenant Commander Brax Daak,” he said. Nothing. “Is this normal? This interference?”
Kaino shook his head. “We found no issues.”
Brax’s wrist communicator was relaying through Cleo, and he suspected that was where he’d find the issue. They’d been sabotaged, likely by the same person that Tom believed was undercover on their ship. It could have been Gree Suul, but she worked nowhere near the expedition vessel. It had to be someone with access to the bridge.
Brax slapped a glove to his face mask. He closed his eyes and saw Zare sauntering away from the lockers right before he’d arrived, uneasiness in her voice. “Damn it!”
“What is it?” Ven asked him.
“I think I know who the spy is.”
“Who?” Ven asked.
“Junior Officer Zare,” Brax told him.
Ven was unable to hide his shock. “I find that hard to believe.”
“Why’s that?” Brax asked.
“Because I think I would have been able to tell,” he said.
“Is this an Ugna thing?” Brax stared at the tall man, the HUD details casting a green glow over the Ugna’s pale face.
“Something like that. I… perhaps I was distracted. I attempted to focus on Zare, and did sense fear, but she seemed so… diligent. I never suspected deception from that one.” Ven frowned.
“Sorry for the change of subject. Continue, Kaino,” Brax told the old Vralon man.
“There isn’t much to tell. They attacked with impunity. Everyone was killed within minutes.” Kaino sat down, using a table behind him as a seat.
“What about you? How did you survive when the rest were killed?” Brax took a step closer to the man but stopped when the man’s shoulders began to shake.
“I wanted to help, to stop them, but I couldn’t. I’m ashamed to say I hid. In there.” Kaino pointed at the wall stacked with tall metal crates.
“Is there anything else you can tell us?” Brax asked.
“One of them walked in here. I think he was their leader. He told a woman to leave one of the mining carriers alone, to let it return to Malrun XBH. He left, and she relayed the message, but ordered to have it destroyed in front of a witness near the Border. That’s all I know. Then they were gone. I’ve been here alone for two weeks,” Kaino said. “They disabled the communication tower, not that there’s been anyone to talk with out there.”
Brax considered the situation. It was obvious a trap had been set, and Constantine was the target.
“I can’t believe they came all this way and didn’t take it,” Oquid said.
Brax’s ears perked up. “Take it? Take what?”
“That.” Oquid pointed to the rear of the room. It was clearly a shop; tools and workstations were set up all around the exterior walls. The floor was bisected into two areas: one with hydraulic lifts, the other with a massive tarped-off section.
Brax walked toward it, and he heard Ven following him. “More Nek?” the Ugna asked.
He didn’t think so. “We’ll find out.” The tarp was a dull gray, and Brax grabbed hold of it, lifting the edge. The LightBot hovered above them, and he tugged the cloth with a quick pull, causing it to pile on the floor near his feet. A vessel, slightly smaller than Cleo, sat on the ground, light reflecting off its shiny exterior.
“Can’t you see how I wondered? They were here and didn’t even take the very first jump drive vessel ever created this side of the Statu,” Kaino said proudly.
Brax couldn’t believe his ears. “This” – he pointed at the ship – “has a working jump drive?”
“That’s right.”
“And how do you know it’s operational?” Ven asked the man.
“Because it’s been tested. On numerous occasions,” the Vralon replied.
“If we learn how to operate this, we could have an upper hand,” Brax said wistfully.
“Then you’re in luck.” Oquid patted Brax on the back. “Kaino here is the one who piloted the test runs.”
____________
Zare headed straight for the Assembly ships, hoping they didn’t take her as the enemy and blast her away. She sent a few messages with a private code so they would identify it was her, or at least someone on their side, and they must have received it, because no one so much as moved for her as she neared the four vessels.
These ships were once the pride of the Concord, old War heroes each retired within a decade post-Statu. There was even an older one among them, named Faen after a famous Zilph’i captain. Zare used to look up the Faen, asking her mother for stories about the woman’s explorations. Faen was killed on a mission planetside on a distant world, her vessel returning to Nolix without the heroine of Leria. This all happened long before Zare was born, long before even Constantine Baldwin was born, and the age of the structure was showing.
It was clunky, boxy where Constantine was smooth, arcing lines. The thrusters were huge, nearly a quarter the size of the hull, and the crew would have only been about fifty during its prime. Part of Zare felt betrayed at seeing Faen here, but she got over it quickly. Everyone had to make sacrifices for the benefit of the Concord.
She was confident things were going to be much better under Keen’s rule. The Prime before had been corrupt, brought to her role by the post-War powers that be. They were more intent on hiding the truth from everyone than being honest about anything.
They were almost as bad as Constantine Baldwin, and the fact that he was the basis for the new flagship nearly made Zare sick to her stomach. It was because of the hero of Yollox that great people like Commander Senni Baar had been killed. Admiral Adam Hudson was just as bad, but she’d dealt with him.
It had almost been a pleasure, ending his life in that jail cell. He’d died better than he deserved. She checked her timer and estimated that Constantine had about four minutes to go before she was powered down. There was no way for her to disturb the life support systems, and Zare was almost grateful. She’d been worried she’d have to end the entire crew, and her conscience could handle the murder of a traitorous old man, but not the innocent crew members on Constantine. Most of them were oblivious to the truth of the Concord and didn’t deserve to die like that.
She doubted the Assembly would kill them. Maybe Captain Baldwin, but only because of his relation to his grandfather. Zare, on the whole, didn’t think Baldwin was all that bad. She actually found herself liking him.
But none of that mattered anymore. She was never returning, and it was time for another phase of her life.
She approached Andron, the largest of the four classic cruise ships, and the hangar opened to receive her. Zare maneuvered the cruiser through the open walls and activated the lander rails, lowering toward t
he floor. There were a couple of landers inside, old models like everything about these ships, and she flicked the viewer off, turning the engines off as well.
Zare was reunited with her people, safely in the hands of the Assembly, but she felt nervous. She blew a hair from her eyes and stood straight. It was time to face the music. Her superiors might be angry she’d left her posting, but she’d make them see the facts. She was about to be caught, and she knew too much. It was dangerous risking them interrogating her.
Zare lowered the ramp and glanced around the bay, thinking she heard someone inside. It’s just nerves. She stepped down and saw the hangar doors spread wide open. He stopped in the exit, arms extending.
“Child, you have returned,” he said. “Come. We have much to discuss.”
She smiled, relief flooding her at the response from the leader of the Assembly.
Lark Keen was a strong man, broad-shouldered and ten years her senior. He was almost a mirror of Captain Baldwin, and the two had been competition at the Academy at the same time.
“Welcome home,” he said, his hand resting on her shoulder as he faced her. His eyes sparkled, and she could tell he was in his element here, instead of hiding underground on Earon. This was where their leader was meant to be.
She walked away, the ramp on the ship closing as she left the hangar.
Fifteen
The Terontiun was huge, painted the same color as Constantine’s hull. Reeve had played with different versions of the device when she was younger. They were often used to deplete an energy cell before disposing of it, mostly for military purposes, but this… this was something else.
The ships were closer, and she could make out their faint outlines through her enhanced HUD. Enough distracting yourself, Reeve. Get this done.
She crouched at the edge of the Terontiun panel and scanned it, trying to find an access hatch where its power core would be hiding. The entire panel was three meters wide, and she climbed over it; her boots stuck to its surface, and she was across in four steps.
There it was. Reeve pulled the cutting tool from her belt, and it fell from her grip. The cord was dangling loose, not connected to the ring on her suit, and she reached for it, stretching her arm out. With a grunt, she felt the cord between her gloved fingers, and she breathed a sigh of relief as she pulled the cutter in.
With the push of a button, the red energy flickered at the top of the tool, and she pressed it into the access hatch’s weld marks. Whoever had created this Terontiun hadn’t wanted anyone to open it, that much was clear, but she was able to carve through it with long crude slashes of her arm. She was almost out of time.
She glanced at the ship’s energy readout on her HUD and saw it was at five percent. If she didn’t pry this off, they’d be incapacitated, and even destroying the Terontiun panel wouldn’t be enough to allow them to escape.
Reeve saw something moving over their ship, and recognized their Ugna ally flying toward the approaching fleet. It was a beauty, the thrusters burning a cool blue, the nose sleek and all curves. She kept at it until the hatch released, falling from her and floating away.
Reeve smiled as she reached inside, but it was short-lived. This wasn’t the power core. They’d done this on purpose. There was nothing underneath the panel she’d just cut, and she was out of time. She watched as Constantine’s energy level dropped to four, then three.
____________
“What are you doing, Captain Wan?” Tom asked.
The Ugna was sitting, staring at something other than the viewer. “We are going to stop them, Captain Baldwin.”
Tom frowned. He hadn’t witnessed the Ugna ships in battle, but the odds were against them. “There are four of them, Wan. Wait until we power up, and we’ll duke this out together,” Tom said.
Wan finally glanced at the screen and shook his head. “I don’t think so, Captain. We are confident we can handle these old vessels. We studied their functionality.”
Tom bristled at the cockiness. “With all due respect, Wan, you understand nothing about these. The Assembly was able to hide a Terontiun on our hull and deplete our power. This is unprecedented technology. For all we know, they’ve added cutting-edge advances to our retired fleet cruise ships as well.”
Wan appeared to consider this. “I don’t think so, Captain Baldwin. We appreciate your concern, but we can handle ourselves.” The viewer blanked out, and their energy readout counted down to one percent. The lights dimmed.
“Damn it. Reeve, where are we with the Terontiun device?” he asked.
Her voice came through the bridge speakers. “Slight delay, Captain. We aren’t going to make it.”
Tom’s blood ran cold. “What do you mean, we aren’t going to make it?”
“Once we hit zero, we’ll have some auxiliary, but not enough for shields or engines, Star Drive or localized. We’ll have life support for two hours, but even if I disconnect this, we won’t have enough power to jump-start again.” Her voice was rushed, and he could tell she was working on shutting off the planted energy-sucking device. “I’m sorry, sir. They had this planned too well.”
The readout read zero, and the lights all but flicked off. “Constantine,” he said, asking for the ship’s AI, but the projection didn’t appear. Even he was disabled.
Tom paced the bridge, trying to think of a solution, but nothing came to him. There had to be a way to make it through this trap.
All he could do was watch as the fleet arrived, slowing before Captain Wan’s ship. Lieutenant Patterson zoomed, and Tom wondered if the action drained their life support. “Captain,” he said, “we’ve identified the four cruise ships as Andron, Remie, Persi, and Faen.”
Tom knew the history of all four ships, Faen being the oldest of the four. It had been created nearly two hundred years ago, and the age showed, but that didn’t mean much, not if they’d reconstructed the interior like he expected.
He hoped he was wrong, that the Assembly hadn’t been expecting company to be traveling with Constantine. But with Zare being the traitor, he assumed they knew everything. Far too much. Tom ran a hand through his hair and watched the altercation, wishing Wan had remained patient, waiting on their demands.
Fighters emerged from Remie, at least six, and Wan fired at them, blue blasts hitting shields. Wan deployed three of his own single-pilot vessels, and Tom could only watch on the radar as the dogfights began.
Wan’s ship, Faithful, shot away, veering from the incoming Persi, who was firing pulses at their enemy. Tom bit his lip, wishing they were able to assist their new ally.
Faithful took out another Assembly fighter and began a barrage on Persi, rattling the shields of the old cruise ship. Just when Tom suspected the Ugna vessel had gained the upper hand, Andron thrust forward, sending four quick blasts toward Captain Wan. The first two disabled his shields, the next striking Faithful’s Star Drive and bridge almost simultaneously. In no time, the battle was over, and Constantine’s bridge grew silent, the only sound the quiet alarm constantly ringing behind him.
“Patterson, what in the Vastness was that?” Tom asked his lieutenant.
“I have no idea, sir. I’ve never seen anything like them. They pounded through the Ugna’s shields with ease.” Lieutenant Patterson glanced at Tom, fear evident on his pallid face.
“Do we have access to our drives?” Tom asked, assuming the answer.
“No, sir,” came the reply.
No power. No thrusters, no Brax or Ven or Treena Starling. No Constantine. He had no one to lean on now but himself. There is nothing harder than staring into the Vastness and seeing only your reflection.
Tom stood tall, assuring himself there was always a way out of a mess. His primary goal was saving the crew by any means necessary. That was it, no matter the cost. He recalled the secrets his grandfather had lived with for so many years, for the sake of keeping his loved ones safe, and Tom began to understand Constantine even more.
He was about to reach out to the Assembly fleet wh
en Patterson warned him a communication was coming in. “On the viewer,” Tom said.
The bridge of Andron appeared on the screen, and Tom grimaced at the irony. The vessel made famous by a man with his own surname had returned from the grave, much like Constantine Baldwin. He was glad the AI wasn’t able to see it being plundered by terrorists.
Someone was in the shadows, his face hidden from view. “Captain Baldwin, we meet again. I’d like to say I’m sorry for taking your ship from you so soon after you were given it, but hard times call for difficult decisions. Can you guess who told me that?”
Tom’s hands gripped into fists, his nails digging deep into his palms. “Keen, why am I not surprised it’s you?” But he was shocked by the revelation.
The man stepped into the light and smiled widely at Tom. He was so much like the boy Tom had grown up with, only harder, older. Gray lined his thick black hair, his face scruffy, a scar on his chin visible even from here. Tom had been there the day Lark had received the injury. Betrayal burned in Tom’s chest as he stared at his old friend.
“We have a lot to discuss, Baldwin. As you can see, we’re serious about our mission. I regret we needed to destroy your Ugna ally, but they left us no choice,” Keen said, almost sounding like he meant it.
Tom saw a figure move behind Keen, and his anger rose again. Zare stepped beside Lark Keen, her face stoic. “What do you want with me, Keen?”
“You haven’t figured it out? I thought you were smarter than that,” Keen said, laughing affably.
It had been twenty years since Tom had seen this man, and here he was, acting like they were still close like brothers. “You’ll have to fill me in.”
“That’s fine. We’ll send a shuttle over to pick you up,” Keen said.
Tom glanced around his bridge, wondering where all of his executive crew were at that moment. “It seems I have no choice but to accept.”
Lark Keen smiled again, the youthfulness sneaking in. “I look forward to speaking with you, Captain Thomas Baldwin.”
Baldwin's Legacy: The Complete Series Page 49
