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

by A. C. Hadfield

  Hominos wondered what the obsession was with ship’s AIs but didn’t comment. The family had gone through a lot, so they were entitled as far as he was concerned.

  The two presidents leaned in close and whispered amongst themselves for a moment before breaking apart. Gatskil addressed the family again. “Okay, I think it’s only fair that you get what you’ve asked for. As for you, Kendal, you have my word that you’ll not be pressed for anything you’re not willing to share, but please realize we do need some answers and some information regarding the Veil, especially as we’ve only just survived an attack from a species beyond it.”

  “That’s fair enough,” Kendal said. “I’ll be happy to share my knowledge at a later date.”

  For the next few minutes, the presidents and the Locke family talked back and forth, discussing what was next for them. Brenna had agreed to take a position as an ambassador but wouldn’t take on the role for at least a couple of weeks.

  Kendal officially retired from service.

  Bandar… He was a curious one, Hominos thought. There was something likable and dislikable about him all at once. He was quick to negotiate pardons for any crimes he might have committed while working as a deep-cover GTU agent on Zarunda but hadn’t seemed interested in any other roles in the Coalition, despite his obvious talents. Hominos would have recommended him for a leadership role within the GTU, but like himself, he suspected Bandar was more of an action-oriented individual than a paper pusher.

  “Oh, there’s one more thing,” Senaya said. “I would like a job, an engineering job, but not in the military.”

  “Do you have anything in particular in mind?” Lattis asked.

  “I do, as it happens. There’s a position on Jallan IV. It doesn’t pay much and is in the middle of nowhere, but that sounds perfect to me. My days of adventuring and fighting are done. Kai and I always spoke about getting off Zarunda and living a comfortable life on Jallan IV. That’s what I’d like to do. Oh, and if it’s not too much bother, I’d like a cottage and a small stipend for security in case the job ever goes away.”

  The Locke family all stared at her in disbelief. Hominos got the impression that they had expected her to stay with them after all they had gone through, but from Hominos’s point of view, he could see why she would want a fresh start. She’d only known the extended Locke family for a few months; she’d lived most of her life with Kai.

  “You don’t want to come with us?” Brenna said, clearly hurt. “I thought… We…”

  “We would have liked you to stick around,” Kendal said. “I know we’ve only known you for a short while, but you were so close to Kai, you feel like our family.”

  “But I’m not,” she said neutrally and without malice. “You really don’t know me at all. And to be totally honest, you didn’t really know Kai either. We were left to fend for ourselves on Zarunda. We survived together, through everything. All of this stuff that’s happened lately was a brief thing. There’s only one of us left now, and I want to live the life we both wanted. I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t have to apologize for anything,” Bandar said, removing a cigar from his pocket and lighting it despite the obvious looks of disapproval from the presidents. “You do what you want to do. We’ve got freedom of the quadrant, right? So we’ll come visit now and then if you want. And besides, you two weren’t alone on Zarunda. I was there, looking out for you both, whether you knew it or not. I might not know you as well as Kai, but I’ve watched you grow up from a small child into one of the most impressive women I know.”

  “You still scare me,” she said with a laugh that was only barely able to hide the shaking emotion.

  Hominos was starting to feel deeply uncomfortable. It was clear to him that the family had made up their mind what they wanted to do. As had he. What the presidents wanted didn’t matter now. They had their obligations to the media and the various houses, but that was for them to deal with.

  The war was over, and they could all go their separate ways and live the lives they wanted.

  Hominos handed over his security terminal and bid everyone goodbye.

  On his way out, he saluted the two guards at the doors and headed outside.

  He’d spent so much time inside the Glass House looking out that breathing the air and feeling the sun on his skin took him by surprise. The air felt cold in his lungs, but refreshing, and the warmth on his skin made the fine fur on his arms bristle.

  “So you’re going, eh?” came a voice from behind him.

  He turned to see Officer Ukjao at the doorway, smiling. “I’m glad you gave it up. You can relax now. Go live a life outside of the military—you’ve earned it, Ratic.”

  Hearing his first name in such a casual manner sounded odd, but he liked it.

  Ukjao approached him and kissed him on the cheek, her lips soft and warm on his skin. “It was a pleasure working with you,” she said. “But before you go, there’s one more obligation you have to meet.”

  “What’s that?”

  She pointed across a grassy square to a stationary hover-car. The door opened, and a wild, flailing bundle of brunette hair swept out first, the wind whipping it around the body that followed. A body Hominos knew better than anyone.

  “Elise?” he called out. “Is that you?”

  “That’s her, sir,” Ukjao said. “She contacted me as soon as she heard we won the war, so I told her to come here.”

  “You knew I was quitting before I did?”

  She shrugged. “There’s a reason I was your head intelligence officer. I notice things.”

  Elise ran across the grass. The silvery robe she wore clung to her long, Lantesian limbs, and so many memories of her and Ratic came flooding back. She crashed into him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

  “Ratic, I’m so glad you’re okay! I’ve missed you so much.”

  “I’ve missed you too,” he said, hugging her in close. “I’m so sorry how I left it last time—”

  “None of that matters now. I knew you had to do that to spare me from the stress. But it’s all over, and we can be together again. Come with me, Ratic, come live with me, and…” She broke away and stared at him with the smile that always weakened him. “Marry me! Yes, marry me.”

  “That sounds like an order,” Ratic said with a smile as wide as Elise’s.

  “It is, and you can’t refuse; otherwise… well, there’s no otherwise.”

  “Then I have to do my duty and marry you.”

  From over Elise’s shoulder, Ratic saw Ukjao wiping a tear of joy from her eye. He mouthed, “Thank you,” to her before she turned and went back into the Glass House with a final wave goodbye.

  Ratic stood there with the love of his life in his arms once more and thanked the stars that he had this second chance at life. In that moment, he felt like the luckiest man in the quadrant.

  Chapter 34

  A MONTH later

  SENAYA YAWNED and stretched her arms, easing out the knots of a long night’s sleep. She curled her bare feet into the damp, lush grass of her perfectly maintained garden and breathed in the deep, pure air for which Jallan IV was most renowned.

  At the end of the hundred-meter-long garden, a brook babbled its fresh water from a spring farther up the hill to the east. Just beyond that, a meadow stretched out to the horizon, where it gave way to a stunning range of mountains, their peaks capped with snow.

  A diaphanous blanket of morning fog obscured the bodies of the mountains. On less foggy days, Senaya would watch the gigantic swoop-wings hovering above their aeries high in the sky—their beautiful tawny feathers reflected the sun, giving them a golden hue.

  Unlike the crazed birds she had encountered on the strange planet of Patari, these were peaceful, majestic creatures. Their great wings beat gently against the air as they often flew overhead of her small cozy cottage.

  Some days, with all this beauty around her and the comfortable pace of her job, she would forget all the horrors of war and the battles on both sid
es of the Veil with the Koldax and the shrain. She would forget the fear and anguish of loss.

  She would forget the Dominion…

  But those days were rare.

  Even though she had discovered an idyllic life here on Jallan IV, made new friends, and had found a level of peace she’d never experienced before, it all felt less than it ought. As though something from this life was missing.

  That something being Kai.

  She shook her head and continued her stretching routine and breathing exercises she had learned from one of the city’s best Renga practitioners. In a matter of minutes, the bubbling anxiety ebbed away on waves of energy and mindfulness.

  Below this flow of energy, however, was an ache born of too much physical effort.

  She’d been working hard these last few weeks in her new post as chief engineer. The capital city—which was more of a luxury village—had been suffering from intermittent power outages from a faulty solar collection array. Using Wiggs, she’d found the sector in which the fault had occurred and spent the following three solid days soldering and engineering new parts.

  Together with her mechanical sidekick, she had restored power to the system, and all was well again. Despite the work being difficult at times, she had found it to be a satisfying distraction. Although she was never truly distracted…

  A notification in the form of an ascending series of beeps coming from her wrist terminal pulled her attention away from her inner thoughts. She took a final deep breath before turning her back on the beautiful scenery and headed inside the cottage.

  Her cybernetic house assistant, Jiff, a Mk. III android unit, stoked the open fire in the kitchen and then attended to the oven, taking out a freshly baked loaf of bread.

  The aroma filled the warm kitchen.

  Her stomach rumbled at the thought of thick buttered toast for breakfast.

  “Eesoh is requesting you, Sen,” the assistant said, turning to face her as it placed the bread onto the kitchen table. This particular model had reminded Senaya of the Navigator overseer, which was probably why she had chosen it—the sense of something familiar helped her settle into her new home.

  “Thanks, Jiff,” Senaya said. “Your bread recipe is surely perfect by now. It smells and looks delicious.” She had instructed it to call her Sen, preferring the sense of familiarity. It had worked too. Within a few days of having Jiff around the cottage, she had begun to feel as though he were a member of her family, even if every element of that family weren’t quite—normal.

  There was Wiggs, the reprogrammed Koldax machine, Eesoh—whatever he was—and now Jiff: baker and domestic god. It wasn’t the worst family she’d ever experienced. But not the best either…

  “I’m really glad to have you working here,” she said, wanting to somehow give the android a sense of pride, even though she knew his programming was enough to maintain his mood. But that was the thing with androids; they soon felt so real that you considered their feelings despite knowing they couldn’t feel anything at all.

  Jiff’s mechanical lips moved perfectly into a smile, it’s advanced servos giving it a highly realistic look. “I’m glad to hear you’re happy,” he said without a hint of disingenuousness. “There’s an active community working on these bread recipes from other domestic assistants. The DomestiNet has thousands of iterations. I chose this one in particular due to the soil here on Jallan IV. The mix of herbs and flavor enhancers balance perfectly with the… I’m sorry, I’m rambling, and Eesoh is waiting.”

  “That’s quite all right,” Senaya said with a smile. She enjoyed the rambling. Jiff always seemed so pleased with his work, no matter how small or inconsequential. She had almost forgotten completely that he was an artificial construct and had soon thought of him as more of an equal companion than a tool provided to her by the government as part payment for her role in the war.

  She moved around the table and sat on the sofa opposite the fire, the flames warming the cool, damp soles of her feet.

  A small table between the two held a hovering holocube two-thirds the size of the one within the Blackstar—which was now part of the Coalition-Host Peace Enforcement Fleet.

  When they had taken the ship, Senaya had demanded to take the ‘AI.’ She didn’t want the government to know that Eesoh was actually an entity of some kind, so she brought him here to stay with her. A government-issue AI was assigned to the ship instead.

  “What’s up, Eesoh?” she said, leaning forward to stare into the holocube.

  An amorphous face appeared within. Although its features were often soft and ambiguous, Senaya had spent enough time now with him to read that something was bothering him.

  “I’ve been tracking drive signatures out there, in Coalition space.”

  “As you do,” Senaya said, quirking an eyebrow and smiling. “Some people like watching birds or land trains. I guess your thing is drive signatures.”

  “It’s not through any desire to have a hobby, I’m afraid. Rather, I like to keep track of things that may be of interest to us. And this one certainly is. It’s the Blackstar, Senaya—it has arrived in the Jallan system, and given its current trajectory, it appears to be making its way here.”

  Senaya slumped and dropped her head. She sighed, letting out a long breath.

  “Why now? I’m just getting settled. For the first time in my life, I’m starting to feel normal—bored almost. Bored is good, Eesoh. Bored means one’s life isn’t in any immediate danger. Bored means you’re being left alone to your own devices. I don’t want to deal with more conflict. I’ve had enough conflict for a thousand lifetimes and more.”

  “I can hail them if you wish?”

  Senaya thought about it for a moment. “How far are they away?”

  “Less than an hour at their current rate of approach.”

  “Don’t bother; they’re too close to turn around now. And they might not be coming for me. Perhaps they have other business here?” Even as she said it, she knew she was grasping at straws.

  The amorphous face twisted into a form that showed that Eesoh also doubted that thought. The two had developed a sufficiently advanced level of communication that facial expressions were often enough.

  “How would you like your eggs this morning, Sen?” Jiff said. “May I suggest an omelet? I’ve developed a new kind of whisk, you see, and—”

  Eesoh interrupted with, “It’s all he’s discussed these last few days,” and lowered his voice so only Senaya could hear. “On three separate occasions this week I’ve tried to engage him in a conversation about existential probability and intelligence convergence, and where did they get me? A long diatribe about the poor design of currently available egg whisks.”

  “Perhaps the perfect whisk design is as ultimately important as existentialism?”

  Eesoh went quiet as it appeared to think on that more seriously than Senaya had intended. But perhaps it was a good point after all. What was so important about existence anyway? It was such a fragile thing—something brought into sharp focus on Jallan IV, where so many people with terminal illnesses or just old age came to live out their remaining days in peace and tranquility.

  Perhaps a well-designed egg whisk would have more of an impact on a greater number of people than any one individual’s life. If it meant millions of people around the system would have perfect omelets, perhaps that was a greater thing than certain existences.

  Without meaning to, Senaya had brought a deep mood to the cottage as she and Eesoh pondered on her throwaway comment, but Jiff stood at the table with an expression of expectation, reminding Senaya of his initial question.

  “An omelet would be perfect, thank you, Jiff,” Senaya said, giving him a wide, genuine smile before turning her attention back to Eesoh. “I’m going to change out of these pajamas and prepare for the Blackstar’s arrival. If you notice anything extraordinary, let me know, would you?”

  “Of course. I’ll monitor it every meter of the way and will alert you as soon as it does anything
unusual. Oh, and enjoy your eggs.”

  Chapter 35

  ALMOST EXACTLY AN HOUR later the Blackstar landed in the front garden with a burst of engine thrusters disrupting the surrounding air. Senaya stood in the doorway, dressed in her multi-pocket jerkin, the same she wore to work, and waited with bated breath to see who would exit the familiar ship.

  It looked smaller to her now for some reason, despite the Navigator-designed craft dwarfing her cottage. Time had a habit of doing strange things to memories; it altered dimensions, feelings, and even fine details.

  But memory was only a few images or smells away from accuracy again.

  For example, the repairs to the Blackstar’s hull, its scars, brought back the sheer horror she had experienced when her tether had broken and she floated off through space. But close behind that feeling of horror was the elation and relief of being saved, of grabbing the makeshift harpoon Kai had crafted on the spur of the moment to save her life.

  For all the bad experiences the sight of the Blackstar dredged from her memory, there was an equal number of good ones—almost all of them exclusively because of Kai.

  The door to the ship opened with a hiss, and the steps unfolded.

  Senaya held her breath as she waited.

  A few seconds later her heart raced as Kendal, Brenna, and Bandar exited the ship. They came down the stairs and walked across the stone path of her front garden until they surrounded her by the door.

  They all looked well, she thought. Brenna especially appeared younger. She wore her hair in a tight bun and wore a robe of rich purple—as befitting her role within the government now as an ambassador. Kendal had remained his gruff self. Still had his silvery hair and that glint in his eye that she had never grown accustomed to. It spoke of duplicity and a self-belief in his own charm that she didn’t like.

  And then there was Bandar.

  The sight of him brought back mixed emotions, just like the Blackstar.