Magnitude: A Space Opera Adventure (Blackstar Command Book 2)

by A. C. Hadfield

  Movement came from the cell beyond, but she ignored it now, focusing instead on her stretching routine. If they wanted to talk, they would; if not, she had better things to consider.

  The main door leading into the cell block opened with a squeal. Footsteps from booted feet—three of them, to be precise—moved down the hallway and stopped outside her door. She opened her eyes, stood, and leveled her face at the door.

  The emissary stared back at her with his pitch-black eyes and obsidian complexion hiding any emotion.

  “Good morning,” she said.

  “You will come with me,” he said. He tapped on a keypad, and the door popped open. “And you will refrain from doing anything that will result in your immediate destruction.”

  “That’s fair enough,” Brenna said, stepping through the open cell door. She took a quick glance through the bars of her fellow prisoner’s cell, but couldn’t see anything beyond a dark lump on the cot.

  Presumably, they had been taken away.

  “After you, if you please.” The emissary held one hand out toward the far door. Brenna thought about making a break for it, tensed to run, but an armed guard stepped into view just outside the door. She relaxed, deciding it’d be better to wait for a clearer opportunity—if one came.

  She passed through the doorway into another room. Four more armed guards lined the hallway.

  “A lot of trouble for just one prisoner,” she said.

  The emissary ignored her. Brenna shrugged and followed the guards down the hallway. They traveled in the opposite direction from the night before, progressing ever deeper into the large structure, until they came to a large ornate set of double doors. The guards opened them inward and proceeded inside.

  Never before had she seen such decadent beauty.

  The walls were covered in gold inlaid with different images: birds, beasts, and artistic scenes of what could only be important historical events.

  At the head of the large chamber, three Patari dressed in bright golden robes sat in three ornate gold thrones. The one on the right had one eye that was covered by a gauzy film. The Patari in the center wore an ornate headpiece, tall and swept back, like a bird’s wings. The last wore the same clothes as the first, but something looked off about the alien compared to its counterparts. It clicked into place within seconds: it was missing half of one of its three legs.

  Behind them on the wall stood a golden statue of a large raven, wings outspread, its talons forward and wide.

  The entire room was bathed in the dazzling light through holes in the ceiling from the system’s twin suns.

  The guards led her to a dais in the center of the chamber and made her stand on top of it. The emissary tapped a command into a control panel, and Brenna found that she could not move.

  She strained against invisible bonds, but to no avail.

  “You should save your strength,” the emissary said in a low voice. “This dais creates a force field around you. There is no escape from it.”

  Brenna relaxed and waited for the show to begin, taking in her surroundings and scrutinizing the guards. At some point, she was sure she’d have an opportunity to escape, but that time was not now.

  “Fair morning, Your Eminences,” the emissary said, bowing gracefully to the thrones. “Before you stands an outworlder, awaiting your judgment.”

  “And what is the charge, Pokshawl?” asked the one on the left. Was that a name or a title? Perhaps she would ask later if she got the chance.

  “She was captured and brought here last eve for trespassing in our space.”

  “Now hang on just a second,” Brenna said.

  “Silence, criminal,” the second of the enthroned said. “You will have a chance to defend yourself. For what good it will do.”

  “And does she understand these charges?” the third judge asked.

  “Yes, Your Eminence. I told her last eve that trespass was illegal here,” the emissary said.

  “And what was her response?” the first asked.

  “That it was a mistake for her to be here.”

  “Indeed it is,” the second said.

  Brenna ground her teeth. That one was going to be a problem.

  “Do you understand the charges brought against you?” the first asked.

  “I do now, your Eminence,” Brenna said. It couldn’t hurt to show them the proper courtesy and deference, regardless of her situation. “But I was not aware of this law when I encroached upon your territory.”

  “Ignorance of the law is never a good defense,” the second said.

  “But it’s my only defense,” she replied with a deferential bow of her head.

  “Then you are a fool,” said the second.

  Brenna chose not to respond to that, though she seethed inside.

  “For matters of record, how came you to Patari space?” the first asked, rolling its one good eye in her direction.

  “I was displaced to this side of the Veil during a battle,” Brenna said. “Upon my arrival, I saw a strange creature, an enormous eight-tentacled being flying through space.”

  “You saw one of the great Travelers, a Sumahn,” the third said.

  “Is that what it’s called?” Brenna filed that knowledge away for later. “I did not know that.”

  “They are not on your side of the Veil, I take it,” the first said.

  “No, that was the first time I have ever encountered such a creature.”

  “Continue,” the second said, its deep voice clicking with impatience.

  “Of course. So, the Sumahn went into a wormhole, and since I did not know where I was, I decided to follow it.”

  “And does your kind always blindly leap without looking?” the first asked. Brenna knew if she could appeal to any of them, it was going to be this one.

  “It is one of humanity’s hallmarks, Your Eminence.” Brenna gave them another brief nod.

  “So you are a fool from an entire race of fools?” the second asked.

  Give me a blaster, and I’ll show you who’s a fool, Brenna thought. She chided herself to remain calm.

  “Please—continue,” the first said.

  “Well, the Sumahn exited the wormhole, and I followed, but the creature was nowhere to be found on the other side.”

  “The Travelers tend to do that,” the third said.

  “And that is when your emissary informed me that I broke your laws, and now here I stand.” She bowed her head one more time for good measure.

  Brenna let out a deep breath and met the three Pataris’ stare with half-lidded eyes. Best to remain calm and look neutral, she thought.

  “And how did you breach the Veil?” the first asked.

  She remained silent for a moment and then decided to play her ace card.

  “During the battle, my son opened up a wormhole to defeat our enemies, but it swept many of us across the Veil,” she said. “He is of Navigator birth.”

  The three judges blinked in shock and held a quick conference, whispering amongst themselves. Brenna strained to hear their words, but the distance was too great.

  “The Patari are no friends of the Navigators,” the second said.

  “Oh.” Brenna could have kicked herself for the schoolgirl error of assuming the Patari would naturally ally with the Navigators. With no knowledge of the political strata this side of the Veil, it was, in hindsight, ridiculous to speculate.

  “They abandoned us,” the first said.

  “I don’t understand.” Brenna tried not to show her confusion, to lock down her emotions once more.

  “You see, outworlder,” the third said. “The Great Ancients, the Navigators, have been slumbering for millennia. Once, they were the peacekeepers of the galaxy, but since they went into hibernation, it has allowed the Koldax to run amuck.”

  “The… Koldax?” Another name Brenna stored away. “You’ll have to excuse my ignorance; we have such little knowledge of the Veil worlds on our side.”

  “A technological life-form, heartless
, soulless, completely without mercy,” the second said, the first words he spoke that didn’t sound insulting. He sounded frightened.

  Good to know, Brenna thought. The bastard could feel fear.

  “The Great Ancients used to keep them in check,” the first said. “But now the Koldax travel from system to system, conquering worlds and subsuming all intelligent life-forms they come across.”

  “That sounds… terrifying.” Brenna wasn’t just adhering to social niceties. Her first thought was whether these Koldax would be able to cross the Veil. The Coalition really couldn’t afford more enemies on their doorstep.

  Still, if she survived this… whatever it was, she’d have a great deal of intel to share with the government.

  “Quite the understatement,” the second observed, clicking his anger.

  “That is why we have no love for the Navigators,” the first said. “They created the Veil to trap the Koldax in this part of the universe, and then they diminished. Without the Great Ancients playing their role as equalizers, they’ve trapped the rest of us here to be picked clean by those technological terrors.”

  “I understand. I do,” Brenna said as a thought struck her. “My son is a Navigator. Well, partly, anyway. And my husband is an expert on them. He is somewhere on this side of the Veil. They both are. If you could let me go, to find them, they may be able to help.”

  “I think not,” the second said. Brenna glared at him, her eyes boring into his, and he looked amused. Or what she assumed passed for amusement amongst the Patari.

  “Please, let us help you by helping me. My people are known to make good allies. Let us forge a new relationship between our two species.” Brenna hated the pleading sound in her voice but could do nothing to stop it.

  “Silence, criminal!” the second bellowed. “We confer.”

  Brenna had seen enough stuffed shirts in her time that she knew protesting would do no good, so she just watched as her fate was decided by three aliens she didn’t even know existed two days ago. She didn’t have to wait long.

  “We have come to our decision, outworlder,” the first said.

  “Brenna.”

  “What?” asked the first, blinking in surprise at the interruption.

  “My name is Brenna Locke.” She held out her chin. If she were going to be sentenced, then, by the gods, they were going to know her name.

  “Your name,” the second said, his voice mocking. “Your name matters not to anyone here.”

  “Brenna Locke, then,” the first said. “We find you guilty of trespass into Patari territory. The penalty carries with it a sentence of death.”

  “What?” Brenna exploded. “This is outrageous!”

  “Said penalty shall be carried out at sunset this eve,” the first said.

  Brenna let out a slow, shuddering breath. She was not going to die on some alien world far from home.

  “And how will this ridiculous sentence be dealt?” she asked.

  “You shall be perched atop the grand pyramid and sacrificed to the Gods of the Twin Suns,” the third said. “As is our people’s custom.”

  “Sacrificed?” Her blood ran cold. Humanity’s oldest, most basic rule was not to be eaten. And now she was to come face-to-face with that centuries-old terror.

  “Yes, sacrificed. To the great Razorclaws,” the second said. “In short, you will be eaten.”

  The emissary released her from the dais and led her, dumbfounded, from the great hall. As they left, the room guards fell in on either side and watched her with cautious eyes, their weapons at the ready in case she tried anything foolish.

  But she was too stunned to even consider it.

  A death sentence for encroaching on someone’s territory?

  She couldn’t believe it. This was madness.

  Once she was back in her cell and the guards left, she found her voice.

  “Emissary,” she called through the bars. The alien returned and stopped in front of the door.

  “Yes, outworlder,” he said.

  “What exactly are these Razorclaws?”

  “The gods of this world,” he said. “Great are they. Massive birdlike creatures, dark of feather and beak and eyes. They know all and see all and protect us from those who would do us harm.”

  “Wait,” she said. “I’m going to be bird food?”

  “Your mocking tone is blasphemy.” He visibly bristled at her words and tone. “The great Razorclaws are more than mere birds. They are All of this world.” She could hear the honorific here, the way ‘All’ sounded different from his other words, proper. “To be consumed by them is to become one with them. It is a great privilege.”

  “Right.” Brenna was having a hard time keeping up with this insanity.

  “You should be honored.”

  “Right,” Brenna repeated, stunned.

  “I shall return for you at sunset. Make peace with whatever gods you worship and then prepare to be embraced by the All.”

  With that, the emissary turned on his heel and left.

  Brenna slumped down onto her bunk. A soft laugh drifted across the corridor from the opposite cell.

  And, much to her surprise, she joined in.

  Chapter 8

  GODDENIA, Capsis Prime

  THE GLASS HOUSE was the perfect symbol of the opulence—some would say decadence—of the upper government of the Coalition.

  Even so, newly appointed General Ratic Hominos was very impressed with the splendor of the building. The seven-foot-tall Lantesian’s footfalls barely made any sound as he walked down the hallways, due to his race’s natural grace.

  He nodded at security forces lining the hall as he passed them and barely received a reply, as was their custom; they were to look and behave in a focused fashion.

  Especially as the Coalition remained on a military footing.

  Hominos emerged into a small reception area. The blond-haired human secretary sitting behind a glittering silver desk immediately looked up and gave him a small smile.

  He put her age at anywhere between sixty and a hundred and thirty years old.

  It was always so difficult to tell these days, especially on Capsis Prime, where antiaging technology was readily available to those who could afford it and those who knew the right people.

  “You can go right on in, General; they’re waiting for you,” the secretary said. Her voice belied her appearance, and he revised his opinion, placing her on the lower end of that age scale, perhaps even younger.

  “Thank you, ma’am,” he said.

  He stepped forward beyond the desk, and a security guard opened the door for him. He went into the two presidents’ main office for the first time in his life. He had been outside the Glass House before in the capacity of deputy to General Amelia, but she’d never brought him inside.

  “General Hominos, welcome,” President Gatskil said, his arms out wide to match the smile on his face that Hominos didn’t consider to be genuine. But then that was always the game. Hominos knew the rules and played them well, hence his current position.

  “Please, have a seat,” President Lattis said, motioning to a plush chair in front of their desk with one beefy hand.

  “Thank you, Mr. President, Madame President,” the general said and sat down across from them.

  “You led the forces very well after the… departure of General Amelia,” Gatskil said. “You are to be commended.”

  “Thank you, sir. I was just doing my duty.”

  “No need to be so humble, General,” Gatskil said.

  “Yes, there’s no need to stand on principle here,” Lattis said, smoothing her long hair. “False modesty is for junior politicians and celebrities.”

  Hominos merely smiled and bobbed his head subtly in response.

  “Well, how goes the war effort?” Gatskil asked.

  “Sir, it’s going well at this stage, for the most part. Our forces at the outer rings have managed to push the Host fleet back out of Coalition space.”

  “That is
excellent news, General,” Lattis said. “Now tell us about Amelia.”

  “Just before the battle, the good general absconded with the shuttle and defected to the Host. It was quite a blow to our forces at the time—”

  “Correction, General, it would have been a blow to our forces had you not been on the scene and taken control,” Gatskil said.

  Hominos’s brown fur bristled slightly. The usual political glad-handing that was going on never did appeal to him, and he concentrated on remaining neutral throughout, although his natural instincts could only be masked so much.

  He wished they would stop with the praise, but that would probably not happen.

  “Yes, well,” Hominos began, “we have people looking for her, and she will soon be brought to justice.” He paused and sighed. “A lot of good people died in the early stages of the battle because of the confusion her departure caused.”

  “We have the utmost confidence that you will track her down soon,” Lattis said. Her large frame wobbled within her tightly tailored suit as she spoke. Her doughy hand mushed against the ornate desk, communicating her desire to crush Amelia.

  The previous general’s defection had rankled those in the higher echelons. Hominos could understand that, though. Amelia was a political darling and would undoubtedly be in possession of a great many Coalition secrets.

  The two presidents waited in silence for Hominos’s reply. Their expression brought him out of his thoughts as he admonished himself for not focusing.

  “Thank you for your confidence in me,” Hominos said.

  “Fully deserved,” Gatskil said. “Now, please, continue with the status update.”

  “Well, as per orders, Coalition worlds have been enacting our new defensive schemes in the unlikely event that Host forces fight their way back into the system. New battalions are being called up from the reserves, conscription is under way on half the worlds, and we’ve begun outfitting civilian vessels with weapon systems. Said civilian captains have commenced accelerated training. Should the Host push their way back inside our perimeters, they will find a very hostile welcome.”