Baldwin's Legacy: The Complete Series

by Hystad, Nathan

  “Thank you, Admiral Baldwin,” Starling said, and hearing his name used so formally with his title didn’t feel quite right.

  Another craft entered the hangar’s energy field, and Tom recognized the older model of Concord shuttles. This was the new commander. Tom had met the man on many occasions and knew for a fact that Constantine Baldwin hadn’t liked him. He used to mumble about Captain Pol Teller being an arrogant son of a bitch. Tom didn’t want to prejudge the man, but he did find it an odd choice for Benitor to make.

  The doors opened, and the ovation ceased as the old man stepped off with a young woman at his arm. The man was in his seventies, but most people that age were on extenders or used modifications to alter their appearance.

  Pol Teller did neither of those things. “What, all this for me?” he asked in a gravelly voice.

  Three

  “It was nice of you to make everyone greet me, Starling, but next time, you might not want to leave Engineering devoid of life. Something dire could have happened,” Commander Pol Teller said the moment his bony butt sat down at the meeting room table.

  Treena didn’t like him, not from the moment she heard his first words. She had to be patient, and judging from the expression on Tom’s face, he was trying to pass on the same warning.

  Before Treena could reply, Reeve spoke up. “My second in command, Harry, was there to watch over things. Don’t worry, we didn’t break any protocols.”

  “Good.” Pol’s assistant stood behind him, her hands hovering near a duffel bag, as if he might ask for something at any second.

  Treena glanced at the young woman and wondered what kind of terrible karma had caused her to have to cater to this cantankerous old man. She’d only been introduced as Missy, but Treena doubted that was the girl’s name. She was short, with shoulder-length brown hair, and had blue eyes that darted around the room nervously.

  Tom was on his feet near the end of the table, and Treena locked gazes with him. He seemed to understand it was now her seat and moved to sit beside Doctor Nee at the opposite end.

  Treena remained standing as she took in the table’s occupants. Ven’s absence was noticeable, and she hoped to the Vastness that his loyalty was still with her and the crew. “On behalf of the Concord and the crew of Constantine, I welcome you, Commander Teller.”

  His face contorted in a grimace, and he smacked his dry-looking lips together. He was mostly bald, with a few sporadic white hairs along the sides of his head. His cheeks were covered in three-day-old rough stubble, like coming to this posting wasn’t worthy of cleaning himself up. “It’s going to take a while to grow used to that title, I have to be honest.”

  “How long has it been since you were on a posting?” Tom asked him innocently.

  “Why isn’t Benitor here?” Teller avoided answering.

  “She thought it best to send me instead, considering I was the former captain—” Tom stopped as Teller raised a thin arm.

  “No need to explain. We all know the story. You’re the grandson of Constantine Baldwin, the biggest prick to ever fight against the Statu and the laziest admiral ever to sit in Ridele. You moved up quickly to captain, and here’s another one, reaching the rank before she’s ready. That’s why I’m here. Got it? Good?” The old man sat forward, a vein throbbing in his thin-skinned forehead.

  Treena stood silently. What was happening?

  Tom only smiled, sloughing the insults off with more class than Treena could have managed. “Con,” he said, and the AI appeared. “I assume you’re familiar with the commander?”

  Constantine’s projection walked over to the elderly commander and grinned toward him. “If it isn’t my old friend, Pol. I’m sorry about your wife.”

  Pol paused, his eyes wide as he stared at Constantine’s AI. He reached a finger out, the digit passing through Con’s chest. “I’d heard about you but didn’t believe the rumors. How have they managed to make you so realistic?”

  Treena had seen some of the previous models of the projections, and they were clunky and unresponsive. The ones from Teller’s era were downright archaic.

  “The technology is new. Quite impressive, isn’t it?” Reeve asked.

  Teller barked a laugh and shook his head. “I assume there’s an off switch? I don’t want that… thing around me. Understood, Missy?” he asked, and the girl nodded absently.

  “Constantine is a member of our crew, and…” Treena started to say, but Teller once again felt the need to interrupt someone else.

  “It’s no member of my team,” he said, his bushy brows furrowed deeply.

  “Enough small talk.” Treena said, taking control of the reins. “I can see you’re going to have some adjustments to make for your role reprisal, and I can allow some leeway given your previous rank and experience, but this is my ship, Commander. If you don’t feel like shaping up and giving me the respect of my title, feel free to stay on Nolix.”

  Teller acted shocked, and his mouth opened and then closed again, as if he’d forgotten what he was going to say. “Finally. Some balls from someone.” He slapped a palm onto the table, making a loud banging sound. Missy hopped in surprise behind him.

  Treena could already tell this wasn’t going to work. “Admiral, can I have a word with you?” she asked, pointing to the door.

  “Was it something I said?” Teller asked, but she ignored him as she entered the hallway with Tom.

  “You can’t be serious,” she told him. “Is this a prank? A haze for the new captain?”

  “I’m afraid not. Benitor wanted someone experienced, and he had the most logged hours as a captain over anyone left alive.” Tom paced in a circle. “He’s the worst, though. I’m beginning to understand why Constantine loathed him.”

  “There has to be another solution. Earth is three months away, and that’s with the newly upgraded Nek converters. I won’t be able to keep the crew from tossing him into the airlock for more than a week,” Treena said, not wanting to come off as whiny. She crossed her arms and let out a sigh. “I have to do this, don’t I?”

  Tom took her by the shoulders, staring at her. “You’re going to investigate the biggest mystery in humanity’s past. Our origin. This information has been lost to us over the years, and we have evidence that we originated from a world named Earth. With the new Nek drive alterations, you’ll be able to travel a distance that would have taken us years to navigate. There’s another reason Benitor chose Teller too.”

  “What is it? He’s a historian?”

  “No. He’s human, and the only one that cares enough about our past to come out of retirement to take on this challenge. He’s old, cranky, and probably one of the most stubborn crew members you’ll ever face. If anything, he’s going to prepare you for a long career as a captain in the Concord.”

  “You think so?” she asked.

  Tom nodded, his eyes crinkling at the sides as he smiled. “I know so.”

  “We’d better return.” Treena started for the door, but Tom stopped her.

  “He’s here for a good reason. More than what Benitor told me. He has to have some unfinished business internally. Otherwise, there’s no way he’d have uprooted his old retired self from his cushy couch to do this mission. Find that reason, and he’ll be yours,” Tom told her.

  Treena nodded, resolve firming internally. Tom was one hundred percent right. She was only going to need to discover Teller’s motivation and utilize it to her advantage. “Thanks, Tom. Do you think I’m ready for this?”

  His finger lingered over the entrance button. “I wouldn’t trust anyone else with my ship.” He pressed it, and she wasn’t able to keep the grin from her face as they returned to their meeting.

  ____________

  Tom spent all day on Constantine catching up with the executive crew. He toured the flagship with the team while Teller was introduced to the different departments. By the time he entered the hangar again, he was beat, physically and emotionally. He wasn’t leaving with Shu until the next morning, and
he had the option to return home for another night or head straight there.

  Aimie said he didn’t need to come tonight, but something told him there was unfinished business between them. He really did enjoy her company, but there were days he wasn’t sold on the idea of being in a relationship. He saw the exact same thing in her eyes, in her actions, her words laced with little comments that implied they were together maybe too often.

  “You seem distracted,” Treena told him as she sat at the café table across from him in the courtyard.

  “I didn’t spend much time here when I was the captain,” he said.

  Treena turned and ordered a drink from the ServoBot and set her hands on the table. “Tom, you had other things to do.”

  “It’s a special posting. You don’t know what you have until it’s gone.” Tom hated the melancholic feelings resting in his gut.

  “You can always change your mind,” she told him, moving her arm out of the way so the ServoBot could place her steaming beverage on the table.

  Tom laughed, fidgeting with his empty cup. “I can’t do that. You’ve earned this, and besides… I’m about to see Aruto for the first time.”

  It was Treena’s turn to laugh. “With Rene Bouchard.”

  Tom watched Treena silently for a moment and lowered his voice, making sure no one was close enough to overhear their conversation. “How are you really doing?”

  She sat up straighter, her expression stony. “I’m… it’s not simple, Tom. I’ve gone on for the last three years learning to deal with my situation, and just as I came to peace with it, I found out I was lied to and my body could be healed.”

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

  “It’s not even the physical aspect. I don’t mind putting the work in. When it hurts, it means I’m doing something. I’m gaining strength in my own body. It’s the mental fortitude I need to see myself through my own eyes. I…”

  “You’re a unique woman, Starling. I can’t tell you that I understand, because I can’t know what it’s like, but when I see you as yourself, I see the strongest person I’ve ever met. I see determination and beauty wrapped into one,” Tom told her, knowing his words wouldn’t be misconstrued as anything but platonic affection.

  She grinned at him, holding the cup. He realized she never drank beverages, considering the fact that she was using a robotic body. “What’s with the drink?”

  She held it, staring at the hot liquid inside. “I have to get used to it, don’t I?”

  “So you are going to stop utilizing this android?” Tom hadn’t been sure.

  “I hope to,” she admitted. “One day.”

  “Good. I’m glad to hear that,” Tom said.

  They chatted for another hour, Tom getting another Raca, and eventually, Treena shifted the topic of discussion to his nemesis.

  “Where in the Vastness did Keen go?” she asked.

  Tom tapped a finger on the table, shaking his head slowly. “It makes no sense. The Concord, despite my wishes, was reuniting him with his family. He could have been with Seda and Luci, but he escaped. There has to be an important reason for that.”

  “How are you attempting to track him?” Treena asked.

  “We’ve set up feeds from any known Assembly bases, paid informants at each seedy space station within the Concord—and even a few outside our space—and now we wait,” Tom said.

  “And Seda?”

  “She has no idea he was ever coming,” Tom said.

  Treena’s eyes darted wide open, and her mouth squished into a pout. “I think you have your answer.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “Seda. If she finds out that Keen was going to be brought to them, and that he chose to escape instead, she’ll dish the dirt.” Treena looked pleased with herself, and rightfully so. It was a good concept.

  “Maybe I’ll test your theory,” he said.

  Treena Starling rose from her chair, the courtyard café mostly empty at this late hour. Tom checked the time, seeing it was too late to return to Nolix and Aimie’s penthouse. He’d send her a message instead. Tomorrow, he would venture out on a new mission, and he was anxious to be moving again.

  Treena escorted him to the hangar and slowed as they neared the entrance. “Tom, I want to say thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For believing in me, and for guiding me. I’ll take good care of her,” she said.

  “You might not want Constantine to hear you call the ship that,” he joked. “You’re going to do great things. Take care on your trip to Earth, and be careful with the Nek drive. The Concord hasn’t mass-produced this technology yet on purpose. You’re a test for it, so heed Reeve’s advice and don’t push it for expediency. Earth will still be there when you arrive.”

  Treena nodded, and Tom embraced her quickly, patting her on the back three times before letting go. “We’ll be in touch.”

  She stayed in the hall as he entered the hangar, passing two guards. The door slid shut with a stinging finality.

  “Constantine,” Tom said as he strode over the metal floor toward his waiting shuttle.

  “Yes, sir,” Constantine said, appearing with a slight flicker.

  Tom turned to face his grandfather’s visage. This wasn’t the real man, but he did hold his memories, making it eerily close to Constantine Baldwin. “Take care of them, would you?”

  “I’ll do my best.” Con smiled. “It’s been a pleasure working with you, Tommy.” He let the nickname slip, clearly on purpose. Tom was going to miss him. In his youth, Constantine had been abrasive, challenging to live with, and opinionated. This version was softer, kinder, but with the intelligence and experience of the war hero.

  “I’ll visit soon,” Tom assured him.

  “I’d like that.” Constantine’s AI lingered beside the shuttle as the vessel sealed up, and Tom departed, moving toward Shu.

  Tomorrow, he’d be leaving for Aruto with Elder Fayle and Rene Bouchard’s crew.

  ____________

  Lark Keen woke with a start, the banging on the metallic door resonating through the open room. “Will someone answer that?” he barked, but the others didn’t move. He heard snoring throughout and wondered if he’d dreamt the noise. The knock returned, this time slightly softer, and he grabbed his PL-25, shoving it to his chest as he stumbled over the cots toward the door. One of his men was up, and Teeb placed a hand on Lark’s chest, keeping him in place.

  “Who is it?” Teeb barked. His long dreads hung low past his shoulders, and his thick Tekol frame covered most of the exit.

  “It’s me,” a woman’s muffled voice said.

  “Open it,” Lark told the man.

  “We don’t know for sure…”

  Lark shoved the guy aside and lifted the squeaky metal level, tugging the door wide.

  The Callalay woman grinned as she peered at Lark, then at the ragtag group behind him. “Isn’t this just pathetic? The grandson of the great Admiral Keen, and self-proclaimed Prime Lark Keen, sleeping in a hovel like this with a bunch of wannabe thugs to protect him.”

  She was bald, her eyes light gray, her forehead ridges pronounced and symmetrical. She moved with liquid grace as she entered the room, walking past Teeb and stopping in front of Lark. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  Lark swallowed hard, nodding despite the trepidation burning in his gut. He should have stayed on that freighter. He could be with his wife and girl at this moment. Instead, he was about to start a war. “I’m committed.”

  “Good, then. I didn’t think you’d have the stones, but I guess the rumors are true about you,” she told him.

  “Which rumors?”

  “That you want power, and it takes priority over everything,” the woman said.

  “What’s your name?” Lark asked her. He knew of her by reputation, but her name changed depending on who was speaking about her, or what kind of job they were running. She was a middleman, a hired hand that facilitated big jobs.

 
“You can call me… Prophet,” she said with a smirk. “Grab your things. We’re leaving.”

  The others were up, packing their meager possessions into duffel bags, and Lark went to gather his belongings, which amounted to a change of clothing, another gun, and a tablet. He had no personal effects, no pictures of Luci, nothing.

  He was glad to be leaving this hole, and he followed Prophet from the rusty halls and up the short set of stairs into the cool night air above the surface. The world wasn’t part of the Concord, residing only a system outside of the Border. It was dusty in this region, but swampy across the continent, making a sound hiding spot while they assembled the moving pieces into one place. This was phase two of the operation, and Lark was happy to be done with phase one.

  “Where’s the ship?” he asked, and the Callalay woman pointed into the distance.

  “Wasn’t going to bring it close in case I was being tracked. We have to walk six kilometers.” She stalked ahead like she was having the time of her life.

  Teeb groaned behind Lark. “No one said we’d be walking. And in the middle of the night too. Who knows what’s lingering in the dark?”

  Prophet answered the hypothetical question. “There are no bipedal beings for about five hundred kilometers, but there are Stalkers, so you better keep your eyes open and your guns charged.” She didn’t slow as she told them this over her shoulder.

  Lark mouthed the word—“Stalkers?”—and Teeb only shrugged. The other two hired hands trailed behind, chatting between themselves quietly. Coral and Slane. Lark didn’t know them well, but they were apparently part of his Assembly. A couple of the lucky ones who’d been fortunate to not be uncovered by the Concord’s elaborate digging after his capture.

  Lark walked in silence, glancing at the cloudy sky. The ground was uneven and rocky, and twice he nearly rolled his ankles as they trudged toward their unknown destination. Only Prophet seemed to be enjoying the hike.