Five Empires: An Epic Space Opera

by Steven J Shelley

  “Now that we’ve established where the power lies,” Nobblar said crisply. “It’s time we talked, little sparrow.”

  “I’m headed to Tranda IX,” Jake said with what he hoped was confidence. “I told Ajon Prime I needed re-programming.”

  “Yes, you did,” Nobblar said mildly. “But why Tranda IX? The monastery of Candello Prime is much closer.”

  Jake smiled. He’d been expecting the question. “Abbot Reed is an old friend of mine. I’d trust no one else with re-programming.”

  Nobblar’s eyes flashed as they scrutinized Jake intently. Reed was the most senior monk at Fidelis Prime. Jake barely knew him, but his reasoning would seem solid enough. Re-programming a duellist so he could work with cybomancers once more was no small task, and Jake’s preference for a certain mentor would be taken seriously.

  “What happened on Cerulean, Jake?” Nobblar asked. “Eyebrows were raised.”

  Jake felt the general tension ease, but just a little. Nobblar had watched Jake grow into a man. Like everyone else, he was probably wondering why the duellist had fallen out so spectacularly with his brother. Nostromic tandems were notoriously hard to break and were considered somewhat sacred. Jake knew what Fashon would be saying about him - that he’d lost his mind completely and was ‘walking the Badlands’, like their father had done. There was no more humiliating fall in Nostromic circles than to descend into madness.

  “Fashon killed Emilia Danner,” Jake said. “He was only supposed to squeeze her for information.”

  Nobblar was inscrutable behind his glasses. “And you had feelings for the girl?”

  “No,” Jake replied. “But I didn’t want to be in tandem with a psychotic killer, brother or not.”

  “Interesting,” Nobblar commented, his beady eyes twinkling. His finger waggled slightly. Jake knew what the signal meant and was able to brace himself just in time as a fist crashed into his liver. He felt a flood of pain in his lower back and dropped to his knees.

  “Stop lying,” Basko whispered in his ear. The big man pressed down on Jake’s shoulder blades so he couldn’t stand up.

  “Now, now, Basko,” Nobblar chided softly. “Jake wasn’t lying. He wasn’t telling the whole truth either.”

  Basko grunted. Nobblar simply waited patiently for Jake to speak. Jake could feel the old man clawing at his mental defenses, probing for a weakness. A familiar anxiety rose within Jake’s chest, but it was too familiar to truly catch fire. It was extremely difficult for a cybomancer to bring a fellow Nostroma to heel. Cybomancy was much more effective against other species. Even so, Jake knew he needed to explain his actions on Cerulean. Either that or be detained indefinitely on Vista. That he couldn’t afford.

  “I think Ajon Prime is wrong to forge an alliance with the Cava05,” Jake said truthfully. “Those fuckin’ simians want it all. They’ll betray us as soon as we become dispensable.”

  “Of course they will,” Nobblar said irritably. “Which is why we’re making ourselves indispensable.”

  “How, Nobblar?” Jake said, his interest piqued. “Educate me so I don’t stray a second time.”

  The cybomancer searched Jake’s eyes, perhaps wondering if the duellist was mocking him. For his part, Jake poured all his energy into looking as earnest as possible.

  “The Cava05 send their diplomats to the Caravan of Light as we speak,” Nobblar said finally. “We will offer the simians our services as intelligence specialists. We will grant the Cava05 gradual access to our Archives and collaborate on security issues throughout the galaxy.”

  “We’re going to spy for the Cava05?” Jake asked incredulously. “That’s not an alliance, that’s servitude.”

  Nobblar shrugged. “The Cava05 revere our vast store of knowledge. It would be foolish to endanger that advantage.”

  “We’re the fools,” Jake said bitterly. “The Cava05 will betray us somewhere down the line.”

  “What’s the alternative?” Nobblar asked venomously. “We can’t fight the Cavan Empire in the open, nor can we hope to withstand an invasion. This way we stand the best chance of advancing our cause with the Norgaardi. Or have you forgotten about them?”

  “Of course not,” Jake said defensively. He remembered the day when Ajon Prime had transmitted the aliens’ message to all Nostroma. At first he’d doubted the existence of aliens promising the keys to the universe, but then he realized that his father had once warned him about the Norgaardi. The Milkmen had also confirmed that not only were the Norgaardi real, their intentions were far from noble.

  “War has arrived,” Nobblar said. “The Norgaardi wish to see who remains standing when the smoke clears. If that’s an alliance between the Cava05 and the Nostroma, then we just might survive to see the next millennium.”

  Jake shook his head and tried to gather his thoughts. His liver throbbed - Basko had really flushed that hit.

  “The simians need to be stopped,” he found himself saying. “They’re a cancer. Can you imagine how dominant they’d be if they received Norgaardi help?”

  Nobblar shrugged a second time. Jake found the gesture infuriating. The old man was flatly refusing to think the situation through. Or maybe he was too proud, too haughty to allow Jake any latitude.

  “The Cava05 are the most hungry and well-organized Empire I’ve ever seen,” Nobblar sneered. “Would it be such a bad thing for them to Ascend?”

  “’Ascend’?” Jake spat. “There’s a word for it now? I can’t believe any of this.”

  Jake made to stand but Basko held him firmly in position. He stifled his anger with difficulty, noticing the pooled water seeping into his leather trench coat. These two fuckers were going to pay for this. But first Jake had to try and bend them to his will.

  “Take me to Tranda IX,” he said. “I want to be re-programmed by Abbot Reed at Fidelis Prime. Clearly I’m running against mainstream Nostromic doctrine and I need to know why.”

  Nobblar pursed his thin, bloodless lips.

  “I believe you,” he croaked. “Basko and I will take you to Tranda.”

  32

  Jake exhaled in relief. Basko released his grip and he was able to stand.

  “I’ll have my corvette prepped for drift travel,” Nobblar said, checking his wrist pad. “Sending you the dock number. Tomorrow, 1500.”

  Jake nodded, straightening his trench coat. Mandie was still propped against a pillar, arms crossed underneath her ripe breasts. She seemed more amused than anything. Jake was overcome with a predatory urge to have her before he left Vista. Before he could approach her, he felt Nobblar’s thin hand on his elbow.

  “Ajon Prime thinks you can be saved,” he said. “If Tranda is about anything other than your re-programming, we’ll kill you. Do you doubt that, little sparrow?”

  Jake shook his head, giving Nobblar a hard stare. The older man seemed to take that as acquiescence, because he nodded and left with Basko trailing behind. Jake found it vaguely sickening to see these men working in tandem.

  Individually, he might have had more chance of getting them on side. Together, they were nothing more than Ajon Prime’s lackeys. There was something about being in a tandem that heightened one’s sense of duty. Strengthened one’s adherence to the Nostromic Doctrine. Jake realized how happy he was on his own. Infinitely more vulnerable, yes, but for the first time in a long time he was Jake Le Sondre. For better or worse.

  Mandie was still by the pillar - a sure sign that she was interested in something. Jake shoved his hands in his coat and stood as imperiously as possible.

  “You can do better than Blue Orchid, sweetheart,” he said roughly.

  “Easy to say from all the way up there,” she said in her caustic voice.

  “Bullshit,” he replied, his gorge rising. Since when was he so quick to anger? “You’re not a slave, you seem healthy, you’re attractive. You’re slummin’ it and you know it.”

  “Are you gonna stand there lecturing me all night or are you gonna fuck me?”

  Jake bli
nked. Maybe he was just phased from his long journey in the escape pod, but he felt like he’d lost the vice-like control he normally exerted over his actions.

  “Lead the way,” he said with studied indifference. “Your cot has to be bigger than mine.”

  It was, but only marginally. Jake lay underneath Mandie as she rode him. He didn’t mind at all - in fact, it suited the theme of the night. He simply lay back and thrust his way through two hours of sweaty grindage. From beneath Mandie he was able to enjoy the simple things, like the elegant curve of her breasts and the way her pupils contracted when she was on the verge of orgasm.

  Later, he sat against the wall and allowed Mandie to sleep. His mind was buzzing on too many fronts anyway. Firstly, there was the troubling notion of the Nostroma seeking an alliance with the Cava05. Such a move wasn’t unexpected, but things were still progressing much quicker than he’d anticipated.

  From a long-term perspective he had to admit it made sense - with the Norgaardi watching from the sidelines, it seemed logical to align with the probable victor in the coming war. Or, as it was now known from the news casts, the War of Ascension.

  Jake was sickened by the notion of trying to impress this mysterious alien race lurking beyond the galaxy. Sure, there didn’t seem to be much choice, but the option of banding against the Norgaardi hadn’t been canvassed at all. That was probably because divisions between the major species of the galaxy were too deep to overcome.

  The Cava05 were now hell bent on ‘ascending’ to whatever ‘evolutionary stage’ the Norgaardi were promising. The elusive aliens were just as likely to stage their own invasion once all the local species were weakened. That was why Jake had a mission to accomplish. Why he needed to get to Tranda IX as soon as possible.

  As his mind flirted with an hour or so of sleep, Jake pondered how he should play Nobblar and Basko. The tandem was clearly dangerous. As a cybomancer, Nobblar showed no signs of slowing down. And Basko was the perfect wingman - tough, dedicated and, perhaps most importantly, unambitious. It always helped when a partner knew his or her place and was happy for the cybomancer to be the star of the show.

  The question was whether Jake should reveal his mission to the pair. To do so was fraught with obvious danger. It wouldn’t take much for Nobblar to prevent Jake from reaching Tranda and liberating the Jaj girl.

  On the other hand, having Nobblar and Basko at his back might help with the monks of Fidelis Prime. Maybe even shave days off his mission time. With the Cava05 advancing so aggressively through the galaxy, such a difference could be crucial. In the end Jake decided to remain silent - for now. He knew from bitter experience that the situation would probably change several times before he reached the Tranda system.

  Just when Jake decided that sleep was still an option, his wrist pad bleeped softly. Probably some trader looking to buy the Aegisi escape pod. He was about to kill the com when he saw the caller ID. It was a long range transmission from the Tranda system.

  “Fusar,” he said, his pulse quickening. “Is anything wrong?”

  came the distant voice.

  There was something ragged in the Jaj girl’s tone, as if her long term resistance was finally beginning to crumble.

  “Any signs of this?” Jake asked, knowing it was easy to be practical where he was sitting. Was Fusar in a dark mood or was there real danger?

  Fusar reported.

  Jake swallowed. “Have they said anything to you?”

  came the reply.

  Jake frowned, trying to process that. What could it possibly mean?

  “I’m coming for you, Fusar,” Jake said. “Just sit tight and keep a low profile.”

  Fusar said in a tight voice.

  Jake paused. The Jaj girl had every right to detest the Nostroma. His brethren had played a negative role in her short life thus far.

  “No,” he said finally. “There’s no logical reason why you should, Fusar. But I’m comin’ anyway.”

 

  The com link died. Jake stared at his wrist pad for a moment, feeling a fresh, steely resolve wash over him.

  He watched Mandie’s chest rise and fall as she slept soundly through the early morning. Now that they’d established a crude, physical link, he thought it might be worthwhile having her on Nobblar’s corvette. The Blue Orchid operative stirred as he watched her, her sleepy eyes regarding him with a coy smile.

  “Still here,” she drawled. “Color me impressed.”

  “I was watching you sleep,” Jake said. “It relaxed me.”

  Mandie let the sheet fall from her breasts as she sat up. Jake wondered if he had time for another session. In the end his lust won out, as it almost always did.

  “I want you to come with me,” he mumbled as he climbed on top of her.

  “Sure,” she said in between kisses. “I might even travel with you too.”

  Jake couldn’t help but smile at the cheesy line. “I love women who think they’re funny,” he murmured, slipping a hand between her legs. She laughed, her entire body heaving with mirth. Jake felt something good explode in his brain and was surprised by it. Whatever else happened that day, it had started well enough.

  Jake and Mandie reported to the docking tube at the appointed time. Basko was standing in the shadows like a sentinel.

  “You travel light,” he said in his usual monotone. Jake couldn’t be sure if he was making a wisecrack about Mandie or not. Knowing Basko, probably not.

  “Life of a duellist, eh?” Jake said brightly.

  “Bulb’s already fired,” Basko grunted.

  Jake and Mandie padded through the tunnel and into a compact airlock. Basko followed behind and secured the outer door. Jake wasn’t sorry to leave Vista behind - remote supply stations made him feel grubby and disengaged from the rest of the galaxy. That morning he’d had just enough time to find a buyer for the Aegisi escape pod. The eventual price was well below what it was worth, but the scrap dealer had all the leverage. The unit wasn’t even registered in Jake’s name.

  Mandie wasted no time in strapping herself into a large stasis chair. Jake grinned in approval as he sat beside her. Of course, the obvious question was whether she had always been coming along. It didn’t really matter - the closer Jake got to her, the better. Always helped to have an ally.

  Though it was an older model, the corvette looked to be in good condition. It had been built in an era where impressing guests and business associates was still considered important.

  “Plush seats for old bones?” Jake teased as Nobblar entered from the cockpit.

  “You won’t find me complaining,” the old cybomancer returned, though the gleam in his eye was promising. He’d never exactly been a mentor to Jake, but they had enough shared history to make the current situation a little awkward. If Jake could keep working that particular angle, Nobblar might hesitate at a critical moment down the track. The little things always mattered.

  “Drip feed,” Nobblar muttered, and Jake felt a prick at his arm as drift drugs were administered. Basko settled into the adjacent chair with a typically blank expression.

  “Two days,” the cybomancer announced. “Once we’ve reached our first waypoint I’ll reassess.”

  Nobblar disappeared into the cockpit. It wasn’t the most inspiring speech, but it conveyed the bare bones of a plan. There was a subtle jerk as the corvette’s anchor pads disengaged from the docking tube. Within moments the sleek vessel was cruising away from the supply station and blackness clawed at the edges of Jake’s vision.

  He submitted to the sweet abyss, wondering whether she would find him on Tranda IX …

  The duellist became aware of low voices. He allowed his senses to rebuild themselves gradually, knowing that drift shock was a r
eal thing. He’d once witnessed a teenage boy falling into psychosis after routine drift travel. As far as he knew the boy had never recovered normal brain function.

  Basko had apparently joined Nobblar in the cockpit to discuss an optimal approach run. Something was wrong. The duellist went to unstrap himself but was prevented by a security override on his harness. His utility belt and weapons had been removed.

  Resisting the urge to panic, he looked across at Mandie. The mercenary seemed a little woozy but had no trouble standing.

  “Mandie,” he said quietly, not wanting to draw attention. The human focused on Jake with bleary eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Jake,” she said. “There was nothing I could do.”

  Jake nodded, his mind clicking into gear. One thing was clear - they weren’t headed for the Tranda system.

  “Where are we?” Jake asked in a controlled tone.

  “Ivista system,” Mandie replied. “Caravan of Light. I’ve never seen it before …”

  “Wait,” Jake said plaintively, feeling a knot in his stomach. “Don’t go.”

  He held Mandie in his most intense, gravitational gaze. He wasn’t well versed in cybomancy, but that didn’t mean he lacked ability. On the contrary, his first mentor, Sibala Prime, predicted he would eventually become a fine cybomancer. But that wasn’t what he wanted. He preferred to operate on a physical plane, and that meant becoming a duellist.

  Naturally, he’d picked up certain things over the years. He’d worked with a string of powerful cybomancers, each of them specializing in different neural abilities.

  Right now he tried to sink his teeth into Mandie without alerting her to his attack. He slipped under her neural defenses, the thin shell that humans used to gild their emotional world. Mandie seemed genuinely torn by her position. He sensed her strong physical attraction to him, the kernel of hope that their relationship might flower despite overwhelming odds.

  In the end, his trespass was a simple one. Jake never like the feeling he got when he manipulated someone’s mind, but this was an emergency. He cajoled Mandie from the inside, convinced her that sitting with him right now was the most important thing she could do. She sat back down, concern etched across her face. Jake pulled himself free, allowing his mind worm to do its job.