Baldwin's Legacy: The Complete Series

by Hystad, Nathan

  “I remember.”

  “Did I let you down?”

  “Not in the least. You may have been harsh at times, but I wouldn’t be half the man I am today without your tutelage.”

  “She’d be proud of you, you know. They both would be,” Constantine said.

  Tom sat at his desk, unsure of what to say to that. “Thank you. I hope so.”

  “I think it’s safe to say you’ve escaped my shadow, sir.”

  Tom laughed. “I don’t think I’ll ever evade it entirely, but I might be able to see the stars poking through on occasion.”

  “It’s time,” Constantine told him, and Tom rose from his seat. Outside the viewer, he saw the familiar shapes of Andron, Remie, and Persi. The Concord was dispatching small crews to Earon along with the ships, and it was Tom’s job to escort them. They were also dropping Lark Keen off at a secreted prison, away from any of his people, in case the Assembly had members on the inside.

  Tom remained unaware of what had befallen Seda and the child, Luci, but he preferred it that way. Let it be someone else’s burden. He had enough on his plate.

  “Thank you for being here,” Tom told the AI.

  Constantine only nodded and vanished, leaving Tom alone in his office.

  The others were waiting.

  He found them on the bridge, all heads turning as he approached. “Welcome home, everyone. Are we ready for our new mission?”

  Ven glanced at him, and Tom smiled at seeing the Ugna officer on the bridge. He didn’t fully understand how the man was alive, but he wasn’t going to press the issue. Brax sat at the edge of the bridge, ready for action should it be needed. Reeve Daak was down below, working in her boiler room, and Tom guessed she was smiling. He loved how infectious her attitude was, and couldn’t think of a better chief engineer.

  Tarlen was all grins as he sat in Zare’s old position beside Ven. It was a temporary role, but Tom was content to give the Bacal boy some real experience. He’d earned it.

  Tom took his chair and peered beside him to where Commander Treena Starling sat. She was quite the sight, rebuilt and confident as ever. “Glad to see you here, Commander.”

  “Likewise.” She squinted as she smiled at him, and Tom turned his attention to the viewer.

  “Executive Lieutenant Ven, set course for the prison world of Aoclite,” Tom ordered.

  “Yes, Captain,” Ven said.

  It had been years since Tom had been to the human world Earon, and he was looking forward to visiting again. Harris’ body was frozen in their cargo hold, ready to return home.

  As Constantine maneuvered through the busy space outside Nolix, Tom could only breathe a sigh of relief at how things had turned out. He wondered how things might have been different if Seda’s father had targeted him instead of Lark. Would he be in a cell right now, aboard a cruise ship captained by Captain Keen?

  Tom doubted it. Because he’d been raised by Constantine Baldwin, and that meant something. The AI stood at the side of the bridge, opposite Brax, and Tom was glad there were two Baldwins aboard. His legacy was beginning to take form, but Tom knew there was a lot more to come for him and the crew of Constantine.

  “Captain, there’s a message coming from Admiral Benitor,” Ven said.

  “Play it on the viewer,” Tom said, standing as he saw the older Callalay woman at her desk.

  “Captain Baldwin, there’s been an invasion at our farthest partner’s planet. We’d like you to check it out as soon as you’ve offloaded your cargo,” Benitor said.

  “Send the details, and we’ll be on it,” Tom assured her.

  “Baldwin…” Benitor looked scared.

  “What is it?”

  “Be careful. Reports are saying that Zovlip is gone,” she said.

  “Gone?”

  “Gone.” Benitor stared at him through the viewer.

  “Very well.” Tom felt the familiar rush of adrenaline at heading out on a new mission, one this important. He was confident most of his voyages would be of the utmost importance from now on, and he was prepared for it.

  The screen flashed to space, and seconds later, stars streamed around them as Ven sent Constantine into hyperlight.

  The End

  Copyright © 2020 Nathan Hystad

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Cover art: Tom Edwards Design

  Edited by: Scarlett R Algee

  Proofed and Formatted by: BZ Hercules

  Prologue

  The breeze against Ina’s face was refreshing. She closed her eyes, the hot sun beating down on her cheeks, the rays comforting rather than invasive. Ina spent most of her life underground, but was grateful to have been on surface duty for the last few weeks.

  Others dreaded the endless chores, but she appreciated the time working here more than most. Living below had never felt right to her, as if it went in objection to her basic needs. Not many agreed with her on the subject, so she kept her thoughts to herself.

  Her hair was trimmed short; choppy thick strands stuck up at all angles, and she ran a dirty hand through it as she soaked up the sunlight.

  “Break isn’t for another two hours, Ina. You better hope they don’t catch you slacking like this,” Carl said, bumping her as he walked by with an armful of moss.

  “I was just feeling the wind,” she said softly, crouching to pick up her latest load of the soft green substance. It was damp along her forearms, and she smiled to herself at the stolen moment of peace that was now over.

  “I don’t care what you were doing. If you don’t want to feel the whip, you’d better cut it out,” Carl said, glancing at her as he moved toward the gathering pile. Their task was nearly completed, which meant they’d be leaving the surface, not to return for months.

  Over the years, she’d made it her mission to steal bits of time where she could, fractions of minutes here and there. Ina worked hard, perhaps harder than most, and she thought this allowed her the ability to enjoy herself on occasion. No one cared. The Adepts never bothered her about it; only the other people in her Group complained.

  They all knew she was favored over them, and they sought to knock her down where they could. Ina didn’t care. None of this was the way it should be. Humans shouldn’t live below the ground, nor should any of the other races in her Group.

  She walked to the stack of moss, dropping her load at the edge. She wiped her hands on her pants and watched as the other hundred people finished their task.

  “Good work, Group,” Nadin said, her yellow eyes enhanced in the sunlight. “Since we have finished early, we can head below. Once we have the carts loaded.” Nadin was a small woman, her nose pinched, her mouth always tight-lipped, making her appear angry – which she often was.

  Carl stood beside Ina, and she watched as his gaze drifted to the fields far beyond their Group. She followed along, seeing the huge metal object rising into the sky. It was hideous, yet beautiful. Arms stretched wide, at least ten of them, jutting from the center of the ship. It was rare to catch a glimpse of the Adepts’ vessels, and she almost felt special today. What were they doing? Where did they go while the Groups remained below ground?

  She’d never been on one, but she’d heard the old stories, as most of the Group had at one point in their lives. Ina was third generation, but she held her mother’s spirit close to her heart. As Ina watched the vessel roar into the air, continuing as it lifted through the atmosphere, she thought about her mother’s whispered words late at night.


  This isn’t our way. You’re human, Ina. Your grandfather was from Earon, a lieutenant in the War, the same War that ended with him captured. We are slaves. Don’t forget it. Never forget it.

  Ina had been so young, confused by the hushed ranting, but she’d promised she’d defy them, to fight where she could, and that was why Ina took her little breaks. Tiny infractions to let the Adepts realize not everyone could be indoctrinated by their lies. Her mother had been taken a week later, along with fifty others. That was the way of the Adepts.

  Most of her Group had forgotten the old ways. Few remained from the second generation, with the exception of the elders like Nadin, and they showed no signs of passing on lessons from the first generation: the ones that had been taken in the War so long ago.

  Carl grunted as he closed the cages around the collection of moss, and Ina helped him power up the controller. He passed it to her, and she used the lever to direct the cart toward the opening in the ground. A lift arrived, and Nadin motioned her to drive the load to its destination.

  Soon Ina was heading below the surface, the heat of the sun, the gentle breeze a distant memory that she’d cling to until the next time she was chosen for work duty. She wished she could volunteer to take someone’s spot, but they weren’t allowed to swap roles. It was forbidden.

  A tall thin man met them below, his eyes hollow, his skin pallid. “Leave the cart. You are to head to Five.” His voice croaked like he hadn’t spoken in days.

  Ina’s heart raced with an instant flash of fear. Five. That was where her mother had gone so many years ago. That was where they all went, with no hope of returning.

  “It’s our time,” Carl said, a shimmer of indignation across his face.

  Ina saw it now. They were slaves, pitiful and beaten. Whatever the Adepts wanted with them, it had something to do with the War. For fifty years, her people had been forced to live here, to feed themselves, to manufacture clothing, to build ships for the Adepts, to procreate, so their population would grow.

  Ina could hardly feel a thing as she plodded through the corridor at the front of the line. All one hundred of her Group were moving toward Five, and she nearly turned as they neared the exit for Two. That was their home, the massive city, giving them residence and so much more. It wasn’t a bad place to inhabit, but after feeling the sun on her face, painfully aware she wouldn’t see it for months on end again, she was almost ready for the next step. Perhaps her mother was still in Five. Maybe this was the start of her new life, one she could finally be happy with.

  Judging by the expressions on the rest of the Group’s faces, they didn’t think so. Whispered rumors claimed it was the end of the line. The people that had served their purpose were moved there, never to be seen again. Once, Ina had heard a man mention a device the Adepts used to wipe the minds of the Groups. Then they were put into armor and transferred to one of the huge ugly vessels.

  Was Ina going to suffer the same fate? Was her mother alive on one of the ships, drifting through space with no memory of Ina or her previous life? At least she would discover what it was all about. She wouldn’t have to speculate on what her existence meant any longer.

  The corridors had always felt homey, bright and tall, but as she strode onwards, past Three, then Four, they were shrinking around her. Her legs were already aching from a hard day’s work, and others were protesting as they moved toward Five. The exit was unassuming, the same as the others: a giant metal doorway, this one with dents on the outside. Ina pictured a previous Group fighting back before being pressed through the entrance. She glanced to the floor, half-expecting to see blood stains, but the surface was clean, nearly immaculate.

  “What do you think is on the other side?” Carl had found her, and he stared forward, eyes unblinking.

  “Our deaths,” Ina said softly.

  There were none of the Adepts here, only their Group. Nadin led them, taking orders from whoever had left the instructions.

  “I’m ready,” Carl said.

  “I’m not. We don’t have to do this,” Ina said, her voice rising in volume. “There can be another way. None of the Adepts are here. We can keep going.”

  “Five is the end of the line,” Nadin said, frowning.

  Ina’s cheeks swelled as she inhaled a lungful of recycled air. “Why do you say that? Because they told you so? Look” – Ina pointed down the corridor, where the path continued – “there’s more here. Perhaps our salvation lies beyond.”

  Nadin shook her head. “Wrong, child.” She pulled out a weapon tucked into the back of her pants. Ina had never seen the woman armed before, and she stepped away. The door opened, and out came five of the Adepts, their dark exoskeletons ominous and intimidating as they waved weapons around. Their mandibles clicked in anger, and Ina hid among the rest of her people.

  Her rush of rebellion was washed away in cold sweat as she watched the Adepts motion her people through the door and into Five. She kept her head down, trying not to lock gazes with any of the Adepts. It worked, and soon she was out of the corridor and into the mysterious section of their underground home.

  The space was wide open, a massive courtyard with hundred-foot-tall ceilings, and she peered up to see dozens of the Adepts leaning over balconies, wearing dark robes, and they chanted as the people were urged into the area.

  The door labeled "Five" slammed shut, sealing them in. The sound might as well have been the snapping of a rope around her neck. The rest of her people – some Tekol, Callalay, Zilph’i, and human – stood frozen, gawking at the Adepts chanting around them.

  “This can’t be good,” Carl said from beside Ina.

  She only shook her head, unable to find words. The lights dimmed, and her captors grew quiet as one of the Adepts walked from the far end of the room toward the one hundred newly-arrived people.

  His robes were long; two young Adepts trailed behind him, struggling to keep the fringes of cloth off the floor. He was tall, wider than most of the others, and Ina guessed he was older. His eyes were rheumy, his mandibles a lighter shade of gray than his counterparts’.

  Ina heard Carl’s shallow breathing as the entire gathered courtyard waited for the man to speak. His mandibles clicked together, chattering in their language, which Ina and the others all understood after so long in their presence.

  “Welcome, children. You have been selected for a great honor. We’re thrust into another war and expect our enemies to arrive soon. We aren’t positive when, but we will be ready for them. The Concord has long been a stain on the canvas of our universe. We’re instructed to destroy them, and once we do, enlightenment will finally be upon us,” he said, and the chanting began in earnest. He lifted a hand, the harmonized tones ceasing. “You one hundred have the honor no other of your kind will attain.”

  Ina waited for it, leaning forward slightly. How many of them had passed through these doors before her? She suspected thousands.

  “War is coming, my children. And you are going to help us win once and for all.”

  The Adept stared directly at Ina, and the last shred of hope vanished within her as his dark deadly eyes remained unblinking.

  One

  Tom ran as fast as he could, swinging his racket right on time. The glowing ball buzzed as it raced away from him, and he jammed his shoulder into the wall, unable to avoid it at the last minute. He stayed there panting as he watched Brax fail to return the volley. The big Tekol leaned over as the score changed along the wall.

  They were tied up. “Captain, I know I agreed to take it easy on you, but the least you could have done was tell me you were this good.” Brax’s words came out in between gasping breaths and pants.

  Tom straightened, testing his shoulder. Not injured. That was a relief. “Brax, if I told everyone I was trained by a four-time Vulti champion, no one would play with me.”

  Brax stared at him, shaking his head. “You were trained by Bull Hendle? You have to be kidding me. It must have been nice growing up with unlimited resour
ces.”

  Tom shrugged and waited for Brax to pass the glowing ball over to him. The game was quite simple. There was a barrier in the center of the court; the walls were fair game. All you had to do was hit the three surfaces before the ball was returned, and you gained a point. It didn’t matter whether you bounced it from ceiling to rear wall to floor, as long as all three were on your opponent’s side of the court.

  “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re tied up, Brax. It seems his lessons only went so far,” Tom said, bouncing the ball on his racket. Blue beams of energy stretched over the square paddle.

  “I got lucky a few times. Remind me to invite Tarlen next time instead,” Brax told him.

  “I’ve given the boy a few lessons. I think he’ll be pretty good.”

  “Of course he will be,” Brax muttered.

  It was common knowledge that Brax considered himself a slow learner, someone that had to work twice as hard to attain his position, but after knowing the Tekol chief of security for a few months, Tom didn’t doubt the man’s intelligence and perseverance one bit.

  Tom was about to serve when Constantine’s AI appeared at the center of the court. “Captain, your presence has been requested by one of the prisoners. Again.”

  “Tell him I’m busy,” Tom said, trying to not let himself be goaded by the bastard.

  “You misunderstand, sir. It’s Seda Keen that wants a word with you,” Constantine said.

  Seda Keen. The surname attached to her made Tom grip the racket tighter. “She’s asked for me before?”

  “Several times, but I didn’t think you were interested in speaking with the prisoners.”

  “Why’s that?” Tom asked him.

  “Because you specifically told me you weren’t interested in talking with any of the prisoners,” Constantine said, a slight wry grin on his face.

  “Fine. Tell her I’ll be there in a while. I have a match to win first.” Tom watched as Constantine gave a curt nod and vanished.

  “What’s that about? Think she’s going to try to offer you something for her freedom?” Brax asked.