Baldwin's Legacy: The Complete Series

by Hystad, Nathan

  “Harry here.”

  “My newest chief engineer. Harry, is the Nek drive ready for a blast to Tebas?”

  There was a slight pause. “Sure thing, Captain. We have enough power to get us home too, but we should really think about securing more supply in case things get dicey out there.”

  Nek quantity was low, even though they were mining the Tingor as much as they could. They’d also found out where the Nek that Keen had hand delivered to the Invaders had come from. A key shipment, destined for Earon, had gone missing, and no one had reported it for weeks, until it was too late. The only two flagships with the advantageous technology were Constantine and, recently, Legacy.

  “We’ll do our best, Harry, but for now, if we’re good to go, we’ll be making the jump on your word,” Treena said.

  Darl had began guiding the ship from Earon Station, and Treena was once again surprised to see how many vessels the Concord had gathered here. Hopefully, their information was valid, because each of the other Founders had fewer defenses than Earon at the moment.

  Another ten minutes passed, and Treena glanced at the bar on the screen. Almost to full optimization on their drive. She’d only done two jumps so far in Constantine, and one had sent them to the wrong place. She’d later realized Fayle had set their coordinates so they could find the ancient Ugna village. Treena couldn’t help but feel like there was another, deeper reason for them seeing that village. What was she missing?

  Harry’s voice carried through the bridge’s speakers. “We are fully charged, Captain.”

  “Thank you, Engineering.” Treena stared at the screen, and then at Pol, who seemed to be sleeping. Despite his nearly closed eyes, it was obvious the man was prepared for battle on the other side. His fingers dug into the armrest of his commander’s seat.

  “Course set?” Treena asked.

  Darl nodded, speaking clearly. But there was a twinge of something else, an emotion she recalled too well: fear. “We’re set for Tebas. Ten thousand kilometers out as per orders, Captain.”

  “Good. Hit it.”

  The lights on the bridge flickered, and one moment later, they were in an unfamiliar system.

  Five

  Obilina Six was nothing like Tom had expected. The fact that it was a manufacturing base was obvious, and he’d thought that Wylen would have been more subtle about it. But no one from the Concord came out this way, and Tom was sure Wylen only authorized trusted visitors into the system.

  The Pilia colony ship blotted out the distant star from view, and Tom noticed the twenty Ugna vessels facing off against the behemoth. He’d been expecting a battle, but not this. That colony ship likely meant Wylen was present, which sent a burst of adrenaline into Tom’s bloodstream.

  “Are they on opposite sides, or what?” Rene asked.

  “I’d say those are Fayle’s acolytes, working to secure the fleet ships when the trap was set,” Tom said. “I was confident there would be a larger fleet here, but if the colony ship is…”

  “Do you think Wylen has the Nek mods?” Tarlen asked. He was picking things up quickly, and it boded well for the quality of their expanded academies.

  “I doubt a ship that size would—” Brax started, but his sister spoke over him.

  “He definitely has them. I can tell from the color of the thrusters. Even when the drive is off, the thrusters glow with a purple tone,” Reeve said.

  “Damn it. If Wylen brings that beast to one of our planets, he could do some serious damage, just like he did against the Vusuls near Driun F49,” Tom said, referring to the minds of the Ugna, and not even the expansive weapons array they held on board.

  Tom scanned the area visually, thinking of Ven. Was he on one of those twenty vessels, about to embark in a gunfight with Wylen’s personal craft?

  “Sir, there’s something happening at the manufacturing station,” Brax advised, and Tom watched the image display on the viewscreen.

  “I’ll be damned.” Tom stood, walking through the bridge. Someone was bringing another flagship replica to life. “Do we have access to their communication lines?”

  “I’m on it!” Reeve got to work, and Tom walked over to Brax’s station.

  “How long before Wylen is in reach of that opposing fleet?” Tom was fully aware they might have the firepower to destroy Wylen, but only if they could stay out of range from the minds of Wylen’s crew.

  “Minutes, sir. Four, tops.” Brax looked ready to join the fight, and Tom patted him on the shoulder.

  “Then we’d better engage in some communication,” Tom told him.

  “Sir, we’re linked to that flagship.” Reeve pointed to the viewscreen, where the vessel broke free from the huge manufacturing dock and started moving toward Obilina Six.

  “On screen,” Tom said, not surprised to see the two faces appear.

  “Admiral, how did you find us?” Fayle asked.

  “We were lucky enough to have someone on the inside with you, that’s how,” Tom said.

  “Aimie Gaad’s brother?”

  Tom nodded, and Fayle rubbed her forehead. “I should have guessed. Either way, we could use your assistance. There are fourteen of our ships and two flagships like this ready for the taking, and I imagine we’re going to need them for the coming war.”

  “We need to stop calling it that. The war has begun,” Rene said. “Are you able to stop this man?”

  Fayle shook her head. “I have an idea that I was going to present to you after this mission, but we are not equipped to handle Wylen and his disciples. Their efforts will be useless against the Ugna people, so this will be a pulse battle, one that we are not equipped to win.”

  Tom frowned at the screen. “Why didn’t you ask for help?”

  “We were a little short-sighted. When we heard he’d abandoned Obilina, we suspected it would be a simple grab and go,” a man beside Fayle said. He was shorter than Ven, his skin slightly darker.

  “Ven, are you okay?” Tom asked. Ven hadn’t spoken yet, and he sat with a dazed expression over his face.

  “I am well, Admiral. Thank you for coming to assist.” Ven’s voice was oddly calm.

  “Okay, we have about thirty seconds before Wylen starts firing on your people. What can we do?” Tom asked.

  “He wants to kill us. He thinks they are traitors, but he is the true betrayer. He has ruined thousands of years of training and meditation for his own selfish agenda. We will not run from him, not when the prize is this fruitful!” Fayle was burning with intensity, and Tom assessed her.

  “Is it worth dying for?” he asked quietly.

  She nodded. “It has to be.”

  “Then we’ll deal with Wylen and help you claim the Ugna ships. I’ll return to the Concord with the two replica vessels, of course.” Tom smiled as he said the last, and Fayle instantly looked grateful. “Now, how in the Vastness do we defeat Wylen?”

  “We don’t, but I suspect we can drive him away,” Fayle said, glancing at Ven, who continued to stare into space.

  “Sir, the battle has begun.” Brax pointed to the screen, and they watched the first blast fire from the lead Ugna ship.

  Tom returned to his seat. “Follow Fayle’s lead.”

  ____________

  Lark was about to leave. He was determined. But he found himself standing in the corridor that led to Hangar Two, wiping a bead of sweat off his forehead. Why is this damned ship always so hot?

  His pack’s strap was tight in his grip as he squinted both ways down the hall, seeing no one in either direction. Lark hadn’t thought this through. Even if he returned to Concord space, claiming the Protectors were coming, he only had a rough timeline. Not to mention he was the one who’d been broken out of a prison transport ship and responsible for bringing the Invaders the Nek drive technology in the first place.

  Lark would be back at Wavor Manor before the Protectors ever made it for the fight. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. As long as Luci and Seda were still taken care of, what did it matter? It
was better than continuing on this charade, pretending to be on the president’s side. Prophet was going to be pissed, but he didn’t care. She had her secrets, and Lark had his.

  The idea struck him so abruptly, he nearly laughed at the absurdity of it. He might have a bargaining chip. If he could bring something of value to the Concord with him, perhaps they’d give him some leniency. If he offered an advantage to his old enemies in their war with the Ugna, they might let him stay with his family when things were resolved.

  He needed to try.

  Basher’s room was on Deck Four, and Lark nervously headed there. The ship was still idle, but with Bruno almost ready to initiate the drive again, the halls would be bustling with activity within the hour. He needed to hurry.

  Lark entered the elevator, letting it take him up two decks before exiting, the entire time trying to behave like he had every right to access the medical bay. No one questioned him as he entered. The room was dark, with no injuries or ailments for their robotic doctor to attend to.

  Lark bumped into a table, unable to see in the dim room, and the lights flashed on. He wished he had a weapon, but he grabbed for the nearest thing. He held a glass vial in his hand and raised it threateningly.

  “Greetings. How can I assist you?” the robot asked.

  Lark lowered his arm, his heart racing. “You scared me.”

  “I did not mean to frighten you. How can I assist you?” The mechanical doctor wasn’t humanoid in appearance. It was squat, rounded around the midsection, with rollers beneath it and ten arms that extended in various directions. They’d given it two glowing yellow eyes, and a slit of a mouth that its voice emerged from.

  “I’ve been requested to pick up something to help our crew members sleep. We have a big day tomorrow, and most of them are wide awake, unable to obtain the rest they need. You know how we are… anticipation is a killer of dreams.” Lark nervously laughed.

  The robot rolled closer and held a scanner out, the green glow expanding over Lark. He shielded his eyes, and soon it was over. “Elevated heart rate, sweating, high body temperature.”

  Sweat ran down Lark’s sides, and he gulped unconsciously.

  “Are you feeling okay, sir?” the robot asked.

  “I’m fine. Like I said. Anxious about tomorrow. Now, about the…”

  “How many crew members will be needing sedatives?” the doctor asked.

  “Uhm, ten. Each about my size,” he lied.

  It rolled away, head spinning to face the opposite end of the sterile room. Lark assessed the space, seeing no one else in the vicinity. He couldn’t believe it had worked, but this was the easy part.

  The bot returned with a hand-held device and reached it toward Lark. “This has enough for all ten. One injection to each of their necks. Do not give anyone two. It could perma…”

  “How long before it kicks in?” he asked.

  “Seconds.”

  “Okay. Thank you, doc.”

  “You’re welcome.” The robot’s eyes dimmed, and the lights flickered off as Lark exited the medical bay. Now all he needed to do was sneak into President Gordon Basher’s suite.

  Instead of taking the elevator, he found the stairwell a few minutes’ stroll toward the bridge’s direction. The Protectors were nice ships, well-thought-out without wasted space on foyers, courtyards, and dining halls. It was a little more utilitarian than the Concord vessels, reminding Lark of the endless versions of spacecraft design. In the end, though, they all served the same function.

  Lark felt the weight of the drug dispenser in his spine as it was tucked behind his shirt at the small of his back. He almost laughed, thinking of accidentally injecting himself, only for Basher or someone to find him on the floor outside his suite in the morning.

  Luckily, that didn’t happen, and a minute later, Lark Keen was on the proper floor. He attempted to walk through the stairwell entrance, but it failed. The door remained closed. It took him a moment to remember he held Bruno’s keycard, and he fumbled for it, moving the card closer to the door. It opened as he did so, and Lark peered through the corridor, happy to find it…

  “What are you doing here?” someone asked, and he looked to his left to find one of the red-uniformed Invaders facing him. She was tall, muscular, and her expression was filled with distaste at the sight of him.

  Lark put on his rich ambassador demeanor and sneered ever so slightly at her. “Basher called me to join him for a drink. Do you want to ask him yourself?”

  The president’s door was ten feet away, and Lark assumed Basher was passed out in bed. Judging by the man’s shape the last time he’d seen him, he’d be waking up with quite the headache.

  “Fine. I will escort you to him.” The woman turned her back to Lark, and he went to work. The injector found his hand in a split second. She started to react, but it was too late. He pressed the button, but the device remained dark.

  “What are you doing?” she yelled, and he slammed against the wall without her even laying a hand on him.

  “I…” The pressure on his neck was a powerful invisible line and he dropped the medical device. It landed loudly as it clattered to the floor.

  “Don’t you know who he is?” a voice asked from behind the Invader. The pressure eased enough for Lark to make out the shape of Prophet.

  “He tried to…”

  Prophet shook her head. “I don’t care what you think he was doing.”

  The Invader released him, glaring angrily. She didn’t see the knife slicing into her back. Prophet pulled it out, stabbing again and again until the woman was on the ground, blood leaking from her red uniform.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “You don’t think I’ve been following you? Are you a fool, Keen? We were in this together. What in the Vastness are you trying?” Prophet stepped over the corpse, and Lark retreated from her. She was trained to kill, and she had the distinct advantage of being an Ugna on top of it. He would never win in an altercation.

  “Nothing. I was…”

  She motioned toward Basher’s door and saw the keycard clipped to his shirt. “You have to be kidding me.”

  He glanced to the ground, seeing the tiny medical device. So far, he didn’t think she was aware of its presence. He would only have one shot at this.

  “Go to your room. If I catch you strutting around, trying this clandestine crap again, I will kill you, no matter what Wylen’s orders were,” she said.

  This caught his attention. “What were his orders?”

  She turned to face him, Lark fully aware of the corpse bleeding out four feet away. “He said to keep you alive. That if you caused trouble, I was to tell you a secret.” She leaned close, her lips near his ear.

  He took the gamble as she said it. Lark crouched as fast as he could, gripping the injector. He pressed it into the meat of her thigh, not once but twice, and her words slurred out. “He has your wife and dauggggg…” She fell back, shocked by the rush of sedatives. Her eyes were laced with betrayal.

  He clutched her by the collar, holding her upright. “What did you say? Wylen has Seda and Luci?”

  It was too late. The drugs had kicked in, and Prophet slid to the ground in a heap. Lark stared at the mess in the hallway. He wiped his boots on the dead woman’s pants, trying to remove the blood off them, but he still made pink prints as he grabbed a gun he knew Prophet concealed within her jacket.

  With the gun and injector in his hands, he rushed to President Basher’s suite, feeling numb. If Wylen had his family, how was this bargaining chip going to help him? He kept putting them in situations where they were being used against him. They deserved so much better. The least he could do was follow through, and maybe Baldwin and the others would offer enough compassion to help retrieve his family.

  He arrived at the suite, knocking three times.

  The door opened a minute later, a puffy-eyed Basher greeting him with a frown. “Is there a probl—”

  He didn’t finish the question. Lark s
hoved the injector into the man’s neck and pressed it twice.

  ____________

  The rush of the Vastness filled Ven as their giant empty vessel rocketed toward the battle. Wylen seemed to be toying with the Ugna, firing at random, but Ven saw the truth behind the moves. He was weakening their shields tactically. He wanted to get them all to the point of comfort before striking with something harder, when he was confident their shields would no longer hold.

  None of the others were aware of this, and Ven kept it to himself. They weren’t trained by the Concord; they hadn’t worked aboard a starship with Captain Thomas Baldwin.

  Baldwin currently thrust Legacy directly behind them, waiting for word, but Ven fully intended to leave him and his crew out of harm’s way. This was the Ugna’s fight, and Ven was going to end it sooner rather than later. They’d live to see tomorrow and retrieve the prize Fayle was so determined to gather.

  A few days of High Elder Fayle explaining how the Ugna were intricately connected to the Vastness had opened Ven’s eyes as well as his mind. If Ven was as powerful as Fayle foretold, he would be able to accomplish this move with ease. But he was untested, and Wylen was strong. Maybe as strong as himself, according to Fayle.

  You didn’t become High Elder by fluke. You earned it and were tested endlessly. Wylen had been wearing the title for ages.

  Obilina Six was quiet below again, the turrets no longer firing from the ground. Ven was confident those had been controlled remotely, and with them disabled, the planet no longer posed a threat. Only the colony ship full of angry and deadly En’or-filled Ugna created the danger.

  “Ven, are you prepared?” Fayle asked.

  Her voice was harsh against the flow of the Vastness. His mind hummed like a tuning fork, his hands steady as they’d ever been as he approached the viewscreen. The bridge wasn’t completed, and he stepped over a hole in the floor.

  Their Concord replica craft was nearing the outer edge of the battle, just far enough in orbit of Obilina to let the motion tug them toward Wylen.