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

by A. C. Hadfield

  With adrenaline filling her body and slowing her perception of time, she yelled for Flick to connect to the video feed from the Blackstar. The feed was brought up on the Rapier’s screen. She slumped back in her seat and watched in horror.

  Next to her, Kendal mumbled something. Brenna didn’t know what he was saying; she was too focused on the image of the Dominion before them.

  “Senaya, do you copy?” Brenna said, her voice strained.

  “Yeah, I’m here… Kai’s…” Senaya’s words drifted away, as Kai’s plan was too late to stop.

  Brenna’s heart pounded against her chest, which tightened as if a great weight had rested there, squeezing her lungs and making breathing difficult. A splitting pain cut through her head, making her wince, yet she couldn’t look away.

  The Dominion’s weapon glowed a bright white and coalesced into a sphere that kept on growing. When it stopped growing, she knew what would happen next: Capsis Prime would explode.

  The video feed, however, split.

  “What’s happening?” Kendal said, leaning in closer so that his prickly bearded face rubbed against Brenna’s cheek. “Is he okay in there?”

  The split video showed anything but.

  “No,” Brenna said. “I think he’s going to…” Her words failed her, but it was obvious to them both. Kai wouldn’t get out of there alive.

  With a horror so deep that there were no words to describe it, Brenna watched as her son took two long blades to the chest, blood spilling over a control column within the Dominion.

  Kai screamed initially, but then calmed, as the damage was already done. He watched his life drain away to be collected by the strange gaseous orb that controlled the Koldax ship.

  It seemed to have the effect of activating the floating tetrahedron.

  The creature, Farah Hett, stumbled back and stared in horror as Kai’s body became still and then a blinding light burst from the control panel, utterly engulfing him. His mouth opened in a silent scream.

  His obvious pain ripped through Brenna. Tears tracked down her face. She reached her hand out and grabbed Kendal’s arm, whispering in a hoarse voice, “He’s dying… My boy…”

  Kendal said nothing. There was nothing to say.

  On the other side of the feed, the Dominion’s sphere grew larger still.

  Brenna’s attention flipped from one side of the video stream to the other. Her son was being burned up by the release of the energies just as the weapon outside grew ever more powerful.

  “Kai!” Brenna screamed through the open comm channel to the Blackstar, hoping he would hear her through the piggybacked connection, but all she got back in response was high-pitched static and the sounds of metal rending.

  In one violent burst of energy, a vertical beam of light exploded out from the Dominion, bursting through the top and bottom of the midsection. The glowing sphere immediately blinked out of existence the instant the rest of the ship exploded apart in a trillion or more fragments.

  The column of light glowed for what seemed like an eternity.

  Brenna stared at it, regardless of the damage it would do to her vision. Somewhere in the column was her beautiful, brave boy. He had sacrificed himself to save the quadrant.

  All around the system, Koldax machines stopped and floated in space on whatever trajectory they were previously on.

  “He did it…” Kendal said in a tight whisper. “My god… he actually did it.”

  Brenna turned to face her husband and finally burst into tears. The pair hugged, holding each other as though their lives depended on it. Kendal’s body shook in her arms as he too let out his grief in great gulping sobs.

  The pair stayed that way for many minutes, both unable to articulate the pain they felt. But amongst it was a deep well of relief. Through his actions, Farah Hett’s plans had failed, and billions of lives were saved.

  Yet that equation meant nothing to her. Even if Kai wasn’t her biological son, his death sure felt like it. It stabbed her directly in the heart, and she knew in that instant she would never recover. She would never be the same again and her time within the GTU or any military unit of the Coalition was done.

  Her family had paid enough, some the ultimate price.

  The comms channel from General Hominos activated a few moments later, his gruff voice shattering the grief-filled silence.

  “Allied forces, it’s over. The Dominion is defeated. Kai Locke has saved us all! The Koldax are dead. But do not relent. Open fire with everything you’ve got. Destroy every remaining deactivated Koldax and shrain ship. Take no prisoners. Honor Kai Locke’s ultimate sacrifice and bring swift justice to our enemies.”

  Brenna and Kendal eventually let each other go. They locked eyes. Brenna wiped away Kendal’s tears and brushed his hair from his face. “You knew he would do this, didn’t you? When you were at the Azelia capital with him, you mentioned his fate. This was what you meant, wasn’t it?”

  Kendal shook his head. “I didn’t know the specifics of how it would turn out. But I knew eventually he would have to make a decision. I just wish it wasn’t so soon. We’d only just reunited.”

  “I wish I knew,” Brenna said. “I wish I knew what he had planned. There was so much I would have like to have said to him.”

  “He knew you loved him,” Kendal replied before kissing her and taking her into his embrace once more. “He died knowing you were his real mother in all senses of the word. In fact, it was because of that, he did what he did. He wanted you to be safe. Come on, let’s get the hell out of here before we’re hit with friendly fire. We’ve got the rest of our lives to grieve.”

  “You’re right. And I dare say it will take the rest of my life to grieve for him.”

  She then thought about Senaya and what she must be feeling. She tried to contact the Blackstar and Senaya but received no reply. If Senaya was feeling even a fraction of the pain Brenna felt, she didn’t blame the girl for not wanting to talk to anyone. She was closer to Kai than his own family and Brenna doubted she would be in a good place.

  Not wanting Senaya to feel like she was being ignored, Brenna sent her a personal, coded message with her full suite of contact details so that when the dust settled, Senaya could contact her whenever she felt like it.

  “Flick, chart a safe vector down to the capital. Our job here is done, and we’ll no doubt have to deal with Hominos and the briefing about what happened. Better to get that out of the way so we can find a home and grieve in peace.”

  “I’m sorry about your son,” the AI said with no sense of it being a scripted response. Oddly, it comforted Brenna.

  “Thanks, Flick. I appreciate that.”

  With a gentle use of the thrusters, Flick piloted the Rapier away from the firing arcs of the remaining ships and headed to Goddenia, the Capsis capital. As they flew there, Brenna and Kendal sat motionless, holding hands, not saying a word.

  There was nothing else to say amid the pain and loss. Underneath all that, however, Brenna felt pride. She was proud that her son had given his life to save others. So many in a similar position wouldn’t have made the same choice, and she was grateful that his legacy would be as a hero and a friend to the Coalition.

  Chapter 33

  THE DAY after the battle

  HOMINOS SAT in the comfortable armchair of his office and stared out of the window, watching as the celebrations of the population below continued.

  A media stream playing on a screen showed signs of delight and relief all across the Coalition. There were even images from some of the Host worlds celebrating their freedom from the Koldax and the shrain.

  He drank the remaining dregs of his drink and prepared to meet with the presidents in the Glass House to discuss the battle and what was to come next. He was due to meet them any moment now, but he wanted a few minutes of time to himself to let it all sink in. The last fortnight had gone by so quickly, yet each day had felt like an eternity. With so many developments and so many threats to have dealt with, it had fina
lly taken its toll on him.

  When the battle was won, he let the CDF carry out their orders while he retired to his office to get some much-needed rest, especially as sleep had been in short supply of late given all the things he’d had to organize.

  During the past twenty-four hours, he had overseen the capture of all remaining shrain-populated ships and the subsequent destruction of all shrain and Koldax entities.

  He had, however, given Gaila Frey the right to research Koldax tech using a number of specimens recovered from the battlefield. The girl aboard the Blackstar had apparently sent a message with instructions of how she had reprogrammed one for her own uses. Gaila would no doubt be eager to put those to the test.

  Given the likelihood of another Koldax attack in the future, it made sense for the Coalition to be as prepared as they possibly could be, and given the amount of Koldax floating around the system, they could prove very useful if put to work.

  There was already a great deal of debris in the system to deal with. Although the Capsis system had its own proprietary defense mechanism that would collect any potential debris that got too close to its various gravity wells, there was still the requirement to remove as many objects as possible to avoid damage to low-shield ships traveling from planet to planet. The presidents had mentioned they had already assigned a team to deal with that in their last message to him a few hours ago.

  Also within that message was confirmation that they had requisitioned the Blackstar and its ally, the Rapier. Both ships were now in secure docking bays at the Goddenia shipyards. The crew of both were due to meet with the presidents later that day.

  Although Hominos had no real need to speak with them, given their supreme bravery and help with the battle, he wanted to express his gratitude and to pay his respects for their loss. If it weren’t for Kai Locke sacrificing himself to take out the Dominion, none of them would be alive today.

  Hominos stood up and stretched his tired limbs. He thought about all those that had lost their lives during the battle. Although Kai Locke’s loss of life won the battle, everyone who had perished deserved just as much respect, for they’d bought the time needed for Kai to get into a position where he could strike the killing blow.

  As far as Hominos was concerned, it was a team battle, and the family of every single casualty deserved the same kind of treatment. Their sons and daughters had died for the Coalition and Host’s freedom; they deserved to live their lives in struggle-free comfort. He’d already written up the recommendation and had sent it to the presidents earlier in the morning and didn’t expect them to reject it—they were media darlings, after all, and wouldn’t want the bad press that would come with such a decision.

  For now, though, he had to talk with them in person and lay out the current status and where they go from here.

  He really didn’t see the point, but the same information would eventually go out across the thousands of media channels so that the quadrant’s citizens could rest assured that the war was over and the threat extinguished.

  Hominos switched his media screen to a video mirror, adjusted his uniform and headed for the presidents’ room, eager to get it over and done with.

  BY THE TIME Hominos entered the presidential suite, the crew from the Rapier and Blackstar were already seated around the table.

  Lattis and Gatskil beckoned him in and pointed to an empty chair directly opposite them. The crew then were either side of him. All eyes looked his way.

  “First of all,” Hominos said, “I’d like to thank you all for your efforts in the war. From the brief report I received, it seems you had a tough time beyond the Veil, and I’d like to thank you on behalf of the entire quadrant for your bravery and desire to return to us in our darkest moment. Without your help and the sacrifice of your son and friend, none of us would be here today. You have my utmost gratitude and respect. And secondly, I’m sincerely sorry for your loss. I’ve come to learn that Kai was truly a special individual and we were lucky to have him for as long as we did.”

  The engineer from the Blackstar, Senaya Orlanda, wiped her eyes with a small cloth that already looked as if it had mopped a lot of tears. She simply nodded and choked out what he thought was a thank-you.

  Agent Locke, Brenna that is, thanked him in her usual dignified way. The two men, Bandar and Kendal Locke, didn’t respond too much. They appeared stoic and in control of their emotions, but Hominos had seen enough grief in his time to know that despite the calm on the outside, inside was more than likely a raging torrent of pain and anguish. Especially for Kai’s father. If only a tenth of the stories of the things he had endured both in the quadrant and beyond the Veil were true, then Hominos couldn’t imagine how much he hurt right now.

  “General Ratic Hominos,” President Gatskil started, “as per our earlier message, we want to thank you personally for overseeing the war efforts. Without your organization and leadership skills, we doubt we would have lasted long enough for the Lockes and Miss Orlanda to have helped in the way they did. You’ll be remembered for your efforts for a long time.”

  “I was just doing my job, sir. It was an honor to serve… but while we’re all here, I wanted to say that I’m officially handing in my resignation.”

  The two presidents looked aghast.

  The others didn’t seem too surprised, or perhaps they didn’t care, and who could blame them? They had far more important things to deal with.

  “Why now?” Lattis said, leaning her heavy bosom over the table. “You’ve only just proved yourself. There’s still work to do. We need to rebuild and work with the Host to—”

  Hominos held up his hand to interrupt her. “I’m sorry, but my decision is final. Although I’ve only been in the position for a couple of weeks, that was enough. I achieved what I hoped to, and I believe there are others out there more capable than me going forward. I… underestimated the personal toll such a position would take.”

  Gatskil shook his head and let out a deep sigh. “Well, if that’s your final decision, then I suppose there’s nothing we can do to change your mind.”

  Hominos took it as a statement rather than a question and didn’t say anything else. There was nothing else to add as far as he was concerned.

  He had done his job; there was nothing left for him now.

  With the peace treaty well and truly ratified and their immediate enemies vanquished, he didn’t fancy a desk job of dealing with resource management and staffing issues. That wasn’t his forte. It would drive him insane within six months.

  Senaya Orlanda caught his attention and said, “I’d like to thank you too. I’ve heard a lot about what you’ve done. How you dealt with Amelia and the shrain. Few people would have had the strength to deal with them in the way you did. I don’t advocate violence or death if it can be avoided, but in both of those situations you did exactly what should have been done.”

  “I appreciate that,” Hominos said. “And likewise, your cooperation with Gaila regarding your insight into the Koldax will no doubt prove highly useful. I’m sorry that you lost your friend.”

  She dipped her head now, breaking eye contact, and with a breathy whisper said, “he was more than just a friend. He was my brother in all but blood and the closest I’ve ever had to family.”

  Brenna Locke put her arm around her shoulder. Kendal patted her on the back while Bandar whispered something to her that made her smile briefly.

  “Anyway,” Gatskil said, breaking the moment, “we have a lot that we need to discuss. General, we’d like to run past you the post-battle strategy, and we’d like for you to submit to us a report of the battle for the records and for the media. I’ve already told them that will be a while, so feel free to submit it to us in the coming days. We don’t want it right away.”

  Hominos appreciated that. He had expected to have done that today and really wasn’t up for reliving it all so soon after. He needed time to process what happened so that he could best communicate his decision-making process. The public deserv
ed to know exactly how and why it all went down the way it did.

  Lattis took over from Gatskil and spoke to the Locke family. “As for your family, we’re giving you the freedom of the quadrant. You will be entitled to free travel to any affiliated planet or system that you wish. You’ll also be compensated for your loss, as is the protocol. However, I’ve decided that Kai Locke’s actions were so extraordinary that we shall erect a statue of him here at Goddenia in his honor and that his fateful final day will be commemorated as a day of remembrance all across the quadrant annually.”

  Hominos wasn’t surprised to see a hint of disdain on the families faces. This was all clearly a media exercise. They didn’t need statues and freedom to travel; they needed to be left alone to grieve in their own time.

  “Kendal,” Lattis continued, “when you’re ready, we’d like to bring you into the GTU for a full debrief of your experience beyond the Veil. The same for the rest of you—but again, there’s no rush. I’ll have someone schedule it in a few weeks to give you some time to come to terms with the events.”

  “I couldn’t possibly explain everything I experienced,” Kendal finally said, his voice surprisingly light, given his gruff exterior. “I’ll do my best to relay what I can. You have to understand, however, that the Navigators are extraordinary and their actions won’t always seem rational. And they too deserve respect. I will flatly refuse to cooperate if I sense any plan to breach the Veil or try to use Navigator technology or knowledge for our purposes.”

  “Including the Blackstar?” Gatskil said, raising a sharp eyebrow.

  “Do what you want with it,” Senaya said in response. “As long as I’m allowed to take the AI, you’re free to use it however you wish. The gravity drive is damaged, but I’m sure Gaila and his team will benefit from studying it, although with Kai’s artifact there’s no way back through the Veil.”

  “And the Rapier is all yours too,” Brenna said, “and ditto with regards to the AI. I’ve grown accustomed to its programming.”