Baldwin's Legacy: The Complete Series

by Hystad, Nathan

  “Did I tell you about the very first Ugna?” she asked.

  “Great Elder Boral?” he asked.

  “No. He was the first Elder, but there was another; the earliest to show the Talent, long before Boral’s time.” Fayle grasped her hot cup with two hands, and Ven saw her gaze go distant as she stared at the viewscreen on the wall. “She was a child from a faraway land. The name has been lost, but the tales tell of a powerful girl able to move things with her mind. She accidentally killed someone after being accused of demonic possession.”

  “What happened to her?” Ven asked.

  “The same thing that happened to all of us in the early years. She was killed because of their fear and ignorance. Just like the others for the first two hundred years of our existence,” Fayle told him calmly.

  Ven had grown up hearing the awful stories of their kind being captured, tested, and dissected in hopes of learning why they had this Talent. “This is why the schools started, why you began bringing children from around the Concord in to train, correct?”

  “That is correct. It took some time, though, Ven. Minds do not change in a week, and we estimate that over two thousand of our people were killed before we even realized what was transpiring. That is a lot of bloodshed, is it not?” she asked.

  “It is.” Ven was curious as to her point. She was acting more agitated lately, but he’d chalked it up to the new move. The advancement in their race meant Fayle had a lot more pressure on herself.

  “Do you think any of it was fair? Do you think the Concord has provided ample restitution?” She squinted, and Ven sent a tendril out, wanting to read her emotions. It was like he hit a forcefield. “Do not attempt to sense me, Ven Ittix. Ever.” The table shook, and his tea spilled, drops falling over the edge to land in his lap.

  “Elder Fayle, I meant no disrespect,” he assured her.

  Her frown vanished, and she smiled again. “I know, child. I only hope I have not corrupted you by offering you to the Concord like I have. Are you making enough time for meditation?”

  “I am. As much as possible,” he answered.

  “Good. Drink your tea.” She sipped hers, and Ven picked it up, his eyes going wide as the En’or entered his bloodstream. His sight went unfocused before his gaze returned with more precision than before. He almost floated from his seat, and he fought for words. “It is all right, child. I understand you have not partaken in En’or in some time, and I only want you to stay as vigilant as you can.”

  “Why would you do this? Is it not my choice what I ingest? I had concerns about my addiction, and here you are, feeding it to me behind my back?” He rose, his feet lifting from the ground unconsciously. Everything around him was faint, like the walls had melted, and only Elder Fayle remained in detail.

  “You know nothing, Ven Ittix. I need you on my side. Do not come at me with any accusations. Do you understand?” she asked.

  The bluster was gone as the euphoria kicked in. Why had he been away from it for so long? This was part of his heritage; Fayle said so. “I understand.”

  “Then I’d like you to meditate on it. Picture the Vastness. Return there, for you are changed forever by it. You have touched the end and have returned. Feel the light inside you and consider how grateful you should be for this second chance you have been gifted.” Her voice lowered, and he barely heard her as he lowered to the floor, taking a seat, his legs crossed.

  Ven had a brief thought about wanting to speak with the captain about their mission directive change, but it quickly vanished as he sought his meditative state.

  ____________

  “Where’s Ven?” Brax asked Constantine.

  “He’s with Elder Fayle,” the AI replied.

  Captain Baldwin tapped his fingers on the desktop impatiently. “We don’t have time to interrupt them. Besides, if I go knocking on her door, I’ll probably be reprimanded by the Prime.”

  Brax was surprised by the captain’s change in attitude over their mission. Something was bugging him, and Brax supposed they were about to learn what it was.

  Doctor Nee was in the meeting room with them, which made sense, considering the medical nature of the distress call. Treena sat beside him, and Reeve took the seat beside Brax, leaving the captain at the head of the table in his usual spot.

  “I’ve been told we have to continue on to Driun F49,” Baldwin said, and Brax glanced at the others, seeing instant conflict in each of their faces. “Thoughts, Commander?”

  They turned their attention to Treena, who frowned at the captain. “Sir, with all due respect, we have a possible crisis situation on hand with one, and potentially two or more, of our Concord partners. We cannot abandon this for the sake of an escort mission with no pressing timeline.”

  “I agree with you, Commander, but the admiral doesn’t. We’re continuing on, but you’ll stay behind with Doctor Nee and Brax. We’ll drop you off near Vaxiar, and you’ll take Cleo the rest of the way,” Baldwin told them.

  Brax was leaving the ship again? This was getting out of hand.

  “Captain, don’t you think we should leave the chief of security aboard for the mission to Driun? We haven’t been there before, and we can’t predict what kind of resistance might be in store when we arrive. Not everyone is excited about naming the Ugna a solitary race, let alone Concord partners. There’s bound to be some pushback, and if it’s coming, it’ll be upon arrival,” Treena said, impressing Brax. He was going to make a similar argument, but she’d saved him the trouble.

  Baldwin stared at his commander for a minute. “It’s your call. Brax stays, but you’ll need to bring someone else.”

  “Sir, I’d like to go. I’ve been working on the ship’s origin, and haven’t quite figured it out, but I think if I’m there and can find any evidence at the station, I might be able to help,” Reeve said.

  Brax shook his head. “You’re an engineer, not a hired gun. I don’t think…”

  Treena stopped him short. “Done. Reeve’s accompanying us.”

  His sister peered at him smugly, and Brax fought the urge say something sarcastic to her.

  “Then it’s settled. You three figure out what’s going on over here, and with the Minon people,” Tom said.

  “And we’re supposed to do this in the expedition vessel?” Nee asked.

  “A Concord cruise ship will be meeting you near their planet Talepen, along the Border where the station appears to have gone missing,” Baldwin informed them.

  “A cruise ship? Which one?” Treena asked.

  “Shu, as it so happens. Rene Bouchard will be there to assist us in any way,” Baldwin said, and Brax saw his sister’s posture change. She’d despised Cedric, but now that he was dead, sacrificing himself on the Statu world, she was carrying a sense of misplaced loss around like luggage.

  Brax didn’t know who the man’s replacement was, but he was curious. “I still don’t like it,” he said.

  “Noted. If there’s nothing else, make the arrangements. Nee, can Kelli handle things here while you’re gone?” Baldwin asked.

  “She’s good as long as you don’t find a renegade Eniliotran that needs a sinus cleanse in the next few weeks,” Nee said with a smile.

  “I’m going to assume that was an attempt at a joke?” Baldwin asked.

  “You humans have no appreciation of a great alien jest,” the Kwant muttered.

  “Dismissed.” Baldwin rose, leaving the room.

  “What’s gotten into him?” Reeve asked.

  Brax saw a flicker in Treena’s eyes, and he shut the door, blocking their departure. “Starling, spill it.”

  “What? There’s nothing…”

  “Don’t give me that. It’s all over your face. The way he’s deferring to you, making you do his reports. What’s happening?” Reeve asked, arms crossed, standing a foot from Treena.

  “I don’t think we should be speaking about this…” Constantine’s AI said.

  “Back off, ghost man,” Brax said.

  Treen
a shook her head and lowered her chin to her chest for a moment. “Fine, but this stays in this room.”

  Brax leaned forward, his heart pounding inside his ribcage.

  “Captain Baldwin has been asked to join the admirals,” she said softly.

  The room was bathed in silence, until Reeve broke it. “That’s why he’s showing you the ropes. You’re going to take over, aren’t you?”

  To their surprise, Treena said no. “I’ve been offered a captaincy, but on another new cruise ship.”

  “Then who’s taking over Constantine?” Brax glanced at the AI.

  “Don’t look at me. Do you think I have any say?” Constantine said, and Brax thought he was telling the truth.

  “I don’t like this,” Reeve said, her shoulders slumping. “We were just getting to know one another. I love this ship. I’ve spent so many hours in the boiler room, making it my own. I can’t leave…”

  “Why would you have to leave?” Brax asked.

  “If Treena goes, I want to come with her. Don’t you?” Reeve asked.

  Brax hadn’t had time to ponder what this meant for his own future. Maybe he could stick his hat in the ring for command of Constantine, but since no one had mentioned it to him, he doubted he was on their minds; plus, he didn’t think he was ready yet. “I’d have to consider it. I only learned about this ten seconds ago.”

  Doctor Nee laughed, an amused chuckle from his seated position.

  “What’s so funny?” Reeve asked the doctor.

  “Do you really think Baldwin will hang up his red collar so easily? This is Thomas Baldwin. He rose in the ranks fast, and not just because of old Constantine over here. He probably merited his own command years before, but there weren’t enough cruise ships to go around at the time. He’s had this baby for a few months, and they want to take it from him? That’s doubtful. Nope. Baldwin isn’t going anywhere,” Nee said.

  “I hope you’re right, because I, for one, love working with the man,” Reeve said.

  So did Brax, and he said so.

  “Then we have nothing to worry about,” Nee said, his gaze falling on Treena. “Except our esteemed commander, who’s being taken from us with the promise of a fresh crew and sterile ship. Is that what you want, Treena?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know yet. I have some time.”

  “How long?” Brax asked.

  “Until the Ugna have been transplanted to their new home,” she answered.

  “That’s not very long,” Reeve told her.

  “Tell me about it.” Treena stood up straight, moving for the meeting room exit. “Let’s focus on the present. We have a job to do, and we need to prepare. Nee, gather any necessary supplies, and meet me at Cleo in an hour. Reeve, same thing. This could be the last time we collaborate, so try to enjoy it.”

  Brax glanced around at his fellow crew members, and now friends, and hoped she was wrong about that.

  ____________

  The cell felt larger when Gotran’s eyes finally opened. The left one hurt, and he couldn’t see through the swelling. Everything ached on his body, but he ran a hand over his chest, arms, then legs, and found nothing was broken.

  “You live,” the girl whispered. It was dark, light seeping through the crackling red energy barrier. Everything inside the cell had a rouged tinge to it, dampening his mood even further.

  “And you?” Gotran sat up, pressing his back to the wall, and assessed the girl. She seemed no worse for wear, which didn’t really surprise him. What was shocking was the fact that their captors had left the two of them together to conspire.

  His eyes began to acclimate to the odd lighting, and he noticed a small blinking camera in the hallway, pointing toward them. All the technology in the universe, and whoever these guys were, they still used outdated equipment. That told Gotran a lot about them. They had weapons, that was clear, but even the barrier they used appeared to stem from an old power source.

  He stood, walking over to the cell’s exit on unsteady legs, and followed the framework. There it was, as expected. The power supply connected on this section, and the ancient Tekol equipment was always faulty. The Zilph’i had created the new standard over a hundred years ago, but this… this ship had flaws. He could use that.

  “What are you doing? Trying to escape?” the girl asked. It was unclear if she’d been given a name, and he glared at her, turning away from the camera. His finger found his lips, urging her to keep it quiet. He moved toward her, where she sat on a cot. Her pristine almond skin shone in the light; her brown eyes almost glowed. She was the perfect specimen, fully capable of saving their race.

  “Do you have a name?” he asked softly.

  “Charlan,” came the reply.

  He stepped away as if he’d been slapped. They’d named her after the First Advisor, implying she was their chosen one, their savior. Gotran wasn’t religious, but the implications behind her were too powerful to ignore. These monsters knew what she was, or they wouldn’t have gone to all this work, sticking their noses into the Concord, fully assured there would be retribution.

  News of the Statu’s demise had spread quickly, even to a faraway Border world like Talepen, which meant that the planets in the Beyond were fully aware of the unmatched strength the Concord once again held. Now, with the addition of a new partner, these Ugna, the fleet was unmatched. But that ship… it felt as large as a moon, which meant this enemy was great. They might be using ancient technology, but they weren’t to be trifled with.

  Still… he could cause a surge in the barrier and find a means to escape, but where to?

  “Charlan, you’re going to have to do as I say here, okay? Things aren’t going to be simple, but if we work together, I can try to get you to our safe zone. Can you do that?” Gotran attempted to be as kind as he could, even going so far as to smile at her.

  She nodded. “I think so.”

  “How much do you remember?” Gotran asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  A noise startled him, and he craned his neck toward the corridor leading to their cell. Two of their giant captors walked through the halls. One carried a thick gun casually resting in his palm, the barrel on his shoulder. The other, slightly scooped in the back, walked slowly, his arms thick with muscle but his waist gone to flab. Gotran had seen the type many times before: a real soldier in his youth, promoted to a higher position where food and drink became too easy to pass on.

  They stopped outside the barrier, and Gotran almost expected them to turn it off and step inside. He stood between them and the girl protectively. They talked to one another, their words foreign and confusing to his ear.

  The older one smiled, revealing a thick plate instead of teeth. It was yellowed, and Gotran could almost smell his sour breath from here. He lifted a hand, motioning Gotran to the side.

  “Not today, boss,” Gotran said.

  The man did it again and spoke, this time in clipped Standard. “Move, soldier.”

  This surprised him, and the girl gasped. “How do they speak our language?”

  Gotran shrugged, feigning a lack of shock. He was more surprised that this slip of a girl spoke Standard than the enemies. “A lot of ugly aliens speak Standard. It’s all the rage.”

  The guard with the gun frowned, his huge black eyes narrowing as the weapon took aim for Gotran through the flickering red energy field. The leader ordered his underling in their own language, and the gun eventually returned to point at the ceiling.

  “What do you want?” Gotran asked, even though it was clear.

  “Keen,” the old man said.

  Gotran shook his head, tapping his temple. “Think you have your words mixed up. I have no idea what you’re saying.”

  “Keen. I want Keen. For the girl.”

  Gotran didn’t understand what in the Vastness a “Keen” was, but he nodded. “We can arrange that. Put me in touch with my people.”

  The old man shook his head and waved his soldier along. They slowly exited the corrido
r leading to the cell, and soon the door slammed shut and Gotran was once again alone with the girl.

  “Do you know what a Keen is?” he asked her.

  “No. I do not.”

  Gotran sat beside her on the cot and rubbed his sore eye. At least they had started a dialogue.

  Three

  Tom watched through the viewscreen as Cleo departed Constantine. He hated doing this again, but he’d been given no choice in the matter. Elder Fayle held all the cards, and he had to abide by the rules. She was on the bridge with them now and had taken it upon herself to occupy the commander’s seat, since Treena had left on Cleo moments before.

  “Comfortable?” Tom asked her, and she gave him a grin.

  “Yes, thank you, Captain.”

  “Executive Lieutenant Ven, please set course for Driun F49,” Tom ordered, and the Ugna crew member obeyed. Tom watched Vaxiar in the distance, from the zoomed-in feed of the Seeli planet, and he wondered what it looked like from the surface. From here, everything was a muted beige, with very little in the sense of water. Not necessarily his preferred type of place, but he wasn’t one to judge from two hundred and twenty thousand kilometers away.

  “Course set, departing at in-system speeds, Captain.” Ven changed the viewscreen angle as Cleo raced toward the world, heading in the opposite direction from Constantine.

  Tom silently wished them luck. Be steadfast, be vigilant, be strong. The Vastness welcomes all.

  Elder Fayle stared toward her prodigy in his helm position, and he even peered over at her at one point. Ven seemed off, his movements a little too… fluid. Tom recalled how Ven had gone through some issues around a drug used by the Ugna, but he’d admitted those days were over, ever since his rebirth. And yet Tom could tell there was something different about his crewman, which made it clear he would need to broach the subject soon.

  “Moving into hyper, sir,” Ven said, and Constantine’s screen flashed, the stars streaming in the vastness of space.

  “Thank you for listening to your superiors, Captain Baldwin. We are thrilled to be heading toward our new home and final destination,” Fayle said, while managing to sound sincere. Tom hoped the bad taste in his mouth over the whole ordeal would vanish with time.