Terminus Cycle

by Dave Walsh

  “It is us who have no control,” Tyr snarled.

  “Tyr,” Ingen said, turning to him. “That’s the point. That is what we share with them: We lack control. The Earth Ministry and the Fourth Fleet have taken that control from all of our lives. We ask them to join us. Captain, do you think that the crew of the Omega Destiny would follow you, or are they loyal to Navarro at this point?”

  “There are a few for sure.” He scratched his chin, combing through his mind for the members of the crew whom he regularly interacted with. “I’m not sure about the rest, but many have been restless. This would be considered treason.”

  “What is treason anyway? Treason against the Earth Ministry? All of us here in this room have the power to make something new, to start over, to be peaceful.”

  “You aren’t suggesting?” Dyvel turned to Ingen, eyes strained.

  “Yes,” Ingen said. “I know of the history here, but the time has come to band together, for Andlios to stand as one. We can invite those from the Omega Destiny to join us.”

  “That’s a bold move.” O’Neil said. “I’m sure we’d get some support, but the Fourth Fleet --”

  “That’s what the atomics are for,” Tyr roared. “We threaten to blow them out of the sky.”

  “So we threaten the Fourth Fleet with nuclear weapons then?” O’Neil felt uneasy. It was a plan, but not a great one.

  “Sure,” Ingen agreed. “Force understands force.”

  “There will be more coming, though, Jonah.” O’Neil felt frustrated, trapped in a no-win situation. He knew that they had to do something, but he could feel the tension in the room. They were motivated by fear and anger.

  “This doesn’t sound particularly peaceful,” Dyvel interjected.

  “We aren’t going to actually blow them out of the sky.” Ingen turned back to Tyr. “At least I don’t think so.”

  “I’ve met with Admiral Navarro, and I do not know him to be a reasonable man, Ingen.” Dyvel was clearly having his own doubts.

  Ingen started pacing, smashing his fist into his palm. “Then fuck, I don’t know. We make them understand! This is wrong. We appeal not just to the Fourth Fleet. We appeal to everyone. We show them the horrors, and we show them that we are serious. I don’t care if we have to threaten the Omega Destiny itself to make the point.”

  “Threatening civilians?” O’Neil couldn’t believe it. Things had gone from bad to worse. “I don’t want any part of this. This is what we are fighting against.”

  “No.” Ingen shook his head, turning back to O’Neil. “Threatening ourselves. Threatening hope. Threatening the future. This shows that we are serious; this shows that we are willing to die for peace -- that you and I, Captain, we are just like them, and that we have infected this world! We’ve ruined their lives, threatened their way of being. If we are the problem, then we need to say it. We need to be willing to say that our lives are forfeit to ensure that Andlios can continue on undisturbed.”

  “So we’ll be on board then?” The plan began to clarify, if just a little bit.

  “I don’t think that we’ll be able to access the comm bands from down here, so yes, we’ll have to be. That just makes it all the more clear that we are on their side. We are with them, and it’s okay to turn our backs on the Ministry. What has the Ministry done for us anyway? That’s why I need you, Captain. I need you to stand with me.”

  “I understand.” He was still processing the idea. He had always been comfortable helping Jonah, but it had been behind the scenes. Now he’d need to take an on-camera roll, solidifying himself as an enemy of the Ministry. It was treason of the highest order, and it was the end of his career as he knew it, but it was the right decision.

  “Will you stand with me?”

  O’Neil looked around, noticing that everyone was hanging off every word that Jonah Freeman said, and he couldn’t help but smile. It was a fool’s errand, but he had passed up on so many others that this time, it just felt right. Jeanette would be fuming over the decision, which gave him a perverse pleasure in the idea. “I’ll do whatever I need to do to make this happen.”

  He heard the words coming from his mouth but almost didn’t believe that it was happening. That time had finally come for him to stop thinking and to start doing. Captain Peter O’Neil would be remembered by history, that much was certain. Captain Peter O’Neil was the last captain of the great Starship Omega, which found its way to the world Andlios, where he led an insurrection against the Earth Ministry and probably got himself blown out of the sky. At least he fought for something he believed in, he assured himself. History would at least have to give him that.

  019. The Best-Laid Plans

  Ingen the Krigan Warrior

  Ingen had tested the Transporter Module a few times before for short jumps, just transporting from one room to the next. Nothing substantial, but still just as scary. He stood there, wearing his old clothes from the Omega Destiny that he thought he’d never wear again. He was the living embodiment of Jonah Freeman, the man he had left behind. He knew that he had to fit in, had to blend into the population as best he could. He was a Krigan now, of Andlios. What did he even know about the Omega Destiny or Earthers anymore?

  He had to do this, though. He knew that. He thought back to Alva, her lifeless body laying on the ground, riddled with deep cuts and bullet wounds. That was Navarro’s justice. That was Navarro’s view on how the new world should be run. Disgust was all that he could feel. Rage. This war had gone on long enough, and it had cost everyone too much. He remembered that feeling while aboard the Omega Destiny, growing up surrounded by a feeling of excitement, of wonder. Now it was just a bitter set of memories.

  What would the new world be like? Would there be rivers and oceans? Would there be wildlife like he had heard about? What would he do once he got to Omega? Would he venture out on his own and report on the wild frontiers that stretched out as far as the eye could see? It was all so naive that he felt disgusted with himself. He had let them all pull the fleece over his eyes, living on promises and lies that were intertwined in the very existence of the Omega.

  His quest for truth was what ultimately led to him being on Andlios with his back to the wall and everyone relying on him. He remembered back to the first discussion that he had with Captain O’Neil about the nature of humanity, about the nature of needing to be ruled, instructed, guided through life. That life was never for him, but he understood now that a strong voice in the crowd was what was needed. The Krigans needed it, the Omegans needed it, and humanity needed it to survive. It broke his heart. All that he wanted was freedom. He wanted to live free on Andlios, to live a peaceful existence.

  This was the end of the road and he knew it. There was no coming back from the Omega. He would become a martyr for the cause, but it would lead to a free Andlios. Maybe not that day, but some day in the future, there would be freedom. He was sure of it although there were still those pangs inside of him, screaming that it was simply his naivete again. All of his plans had failed, but they had all led him to this moment, which helped to push him forward.

  He clipped the Transporter Module onto his shirt and set the coordinates into his holoscanner. He'd had a few test runs in the open to ensure that he could triangulate exactly where he needed to go and make any adjustments for the margin of error. One little thing, and he’d end up in the vacuum of space -- or worse, in Navarro’s ship with nowhere else to go. One of O’Neil’s agents had given him the location of Professor Cox’s lab, but he could never be sure.

  Ingen knew the plan, knew what he had to do. He also knew what had to be done if all else failed, and he knew that countless lives were going to be on his conscience, although that guilt would only last a fleeting moment before he himself ceased to exist along with the rest. If you had asked Jonah Freeman three years ago if he ever saw himself ready to launch a barrage of nuclear devices at the ship that had served as his home for years, he would have been horrified and in disbelief.

  His pulseax
e was laid out carefully on his desk. He’d feel naked without it and knew the risk that came with him bringing it, but going into this mission without a single weapon could possibly mean massive failure. He sighed and clipped it onto his belt. He came to Andlios as a human being from the planet Earth. He came to Andlios a stranger, but he would return to the Omega Destiny as a proud Krigan warrior who was laying it all on the line to save the planet that he had grown to love and call home.

  He sighed deeply before taking one last look at his quarters in the Krigan stronghold. This place was home to him now, and it was a stark contrast from the cold, sterile walls on board the Omega.

  “Are you ready, Ingen?” Tyr’s strong voice boomed from behind him. Ingen turned to face his friend, nodding.

  “As ready as I can be, I guess,” he replied as he fumbled with his holoscanner. “So you are sure that I have all of the launch codes for those atomics in here? If something goes wrong...”

  “Yes, yes.” Tyr clasped his hand on Ingen’s shoulders, pulling him in close for a tight embrace. “You have everything that you need, Ingen. This... this is more difficult than I imagined.” His voice was breaking up a bit.

  “Oh, Tyr,” Ingen joked, still in the giant’s embrace. “You aren’t going soft on me, are you?”

  “Ingen,” he said as he pulled him back and looked intensely into his eyes. “I’ve lost my Alva. All that I have left is my warband, my pulseaxe and my Ingen. We have faith in you, Ingen -- I have faith in you,” he exclaimed, tears streaming down his cheek. “It is you, Ingen, who will lead us into a new age.”

  “Oh, c’mon,” he said as he shook his head, looking away bashfully. “I don’t know about that.”

  He shook his head violently. “No, I know this. I’m a warrior, I’ve done my warband proud, Ingen, but I cannot do what you can. I cannot lead the many tribes of Andlios peacefully. I can’t make that peace, no matter how hard that I try. You know that I have tried. It is you who has shown us the way; it is you who has shown me the way.”

  Both men stood in silence for a moment. Ingen looked down, unable to make contact with the blubbering Tyr. This was the strongest man he had ever met, the man who had only shown emotion at the death of his daughter, and even that was in private, where no one could see. His emotional range was that of calm or rage, nothing else on spectrum. He knew just as well as Ingen what was on the line with this mission and what would happen if it failed.

  “I know that you must wear their clothing, Ingen,” he said as he motioned toward him. “But I wanted you to have this.” Tyr reached over his shoulder, unslinging his long pulseaxe from it and holding it out in his hands for Ingen. “This pulseaxe is for he who leads the Krigans, and from this day forth, that is you, my friend.”

  “No.” Ingen shook his head in disbelief. “No, Tyr, I can’t. That is your pulseaxe -- that is the pulseaxe. That is the symbol for power not only in this warband but for the Krigan people as a whole. I don’t deserve this.”

  “The Krigans once believed that might was the only way to lead, that rushing the enemy was the only way to have an honorable victory. Many of us died over the years, many who didn’t have to die. You’ve shown us that, just like you’ve shown us that having a leader who leads is more important than just a leader who kills. Andlios needs you, Ingen.”

  “I can’t...”

  “You already have,” he replied as he pushed the pulseaxe into his hands. Ingen took it and stared down at it in awe.

  “I don’t know what to say,” he muttered, feeling tears welling up in his own eyes and looking up to see Tyr’s bloodshot eyes. “I don’t...”

  “You must go, Ingen,” he said. “I have the correct signal to watch the broadcast, right?”

  “Yeah.” He wiped the tears from his cheek roughly before slinging the pulseaxe over his shoulder, unclipping his hand pulseaxe and placing it down on his desk again. “Everything is all set. I just gotta, you know, take care of everything.”

  “Good then,” he said, his voice booming like thunder in the small room. “We will watch as you make us proud, Ingen. Go now.”

  Ingen simply nodded, looking down at his holoscanner, fighting through the tears and emotions that were overwhelming him. Like he needed more pressure on this mission, he thought to himself. He punched in the coordinates before hanging back for a moment, his thumb over the send button. He touched it, then held his breath, before cocking his head back and taking his right hand and slapping the Transporter Module on his chest.

  It was a strange, cold feeling that washed over him. He had experienced this a few times before, but this time felt final to him. He could feel a surge of energy rushing through his body and the image of the tearful Krigan leader and his rock-walled room fading from view. The next image that had materialized was familiar but horrifying. It was the office of Professor Cox aboard the Omega.

  The walls were the same, made of metal and lined with printouts, theories, unfinished ideas and accolades. He took a big breath before falling to his knees, feeling his chest compressing and a mild panic attack rolling in like the clouds before a storm on Andlios. The room was spinning, but he knew that he was all right. He knew that he had made it aboard the ship without anything bad happening. He just had to remind himself what he was doing was right; what he was doing had to be done.

  He hadn’t had a panic attack in what felt like forever now, at least since he woke up in the care of the Krigans. Maybe it was Andlios that calmed him down, he thought, trying to remind himself of what he was doing, of how the mission would benefit all of those that were on the planet, even those on the ship. This had to happen, he reminded himself, taking deep breaths. This would pass, he repeated in his head. This would pass.

  “I don’t know who you are.” Professor Cox’s voice came from the doorway. “But I know that you don’t belong...wait, is that you Jonah?” His surprise concerned Jonah, knowing that O’Neil’s people were supposed to fill Cox in on the whole thing. “I knew that you were coming, but my god, I haven’t seen you in over two years! We’ve spoke a few times, but I didn’t know to believe it or not. I always thought someone was just setting me up and that you were really dead.”

  “Nope,” he forced a smile, picking himself up. “Alive and well.”

  “I’ll say.” The professor looked him up and down. “I don’t remember you ever in shape like this. Then again, I don’t remember you with a giant fucking ax slung over your back or that hair and beard.”

  “Oh, this?” He felt the pulseaxe behind him, realizing it was still attached to him. “Yeah, long story.”

  “I guess we’ll have to dispose with the pleasantries, huh?” the professor mused, almost like he was taking it all so lightly. He seem amused by the whole grandeur and gravity of being a part of history. “We have a world to save, right?”

  “Something like that, yeah,” he said, trying to keep his breaths measured and not show that he was having a panic attack.

  “Jonah,” Professor Cox said as he looked at Jonah while tapping away at his physical keyboard, yet another relic that Jonah had forgotten about. “Are you okay? You don’t look too hot.”

  “I’m fine,” he said as he clutched at his chest. “Just not used to that whole transportation thing, I guess.”

  “Tell me about it.” He shook his head, chuckling. “The technology that we’ve discovered back home in the last eighty-something years -- it’s incredible. It’s almost beyond belief, Jonah. I mean...”

  “I’m sorry, old friend,” Jonah interrupted. “You’ll have to tell me about it later. How is that broadcast coming along?”

  He let out a labored sigh, spinning in his chair to face him, his customary Hawaiian shirt getting snagged on the edge of the desk just like Jonah remembered. He smiled briefly.

  “Yeah, yeah, some things never change, right? Anyway, I’m not going to be able to initiate the broadcast from here. The security protocols that they have in place after our -- err, you know -- they are really restrictive. They
’ve got this place on lockdown. The only place that we’ll be able to initiate the feed from is...”

  A long pause filled the room. Jonah was finally starting to feel a bit more normal, but he was still shaken. “Where? I mean, I’m here to do this, no matter what. I don’t care if I have to crawl into some duct somewhere to initiate this, Professor. This has to happen.”

  “It’s not quite like that,” he replied as he shook his head. “You see, the only place aboard the ship that is able to transmit to all frequencies is...”

  “What is it?” Professor Cox’s reluctance was beginning to worry him. He was always forthcoming, even when they found themselves in jams before. Hell, even when they were plotting against Levine, he wasn’t this hesitant.

  “The bridge,” he finally let out, looking down at his shoes. “The bridge is the only place capable of sending a signal like that without being immediately interrupted.”

  “Fuck.” Jonah paced, tugging at his beard. “The bridge? Is there any way that we can get there without being seen? I’m dead, remember? My face was broadcast throughout the entire ship, telling people that I was a traitor and that I was dead. People know what I look like.”

  “They do.” The professor picked up an apple from his desk and wiped it on his shirt before taking a big bite. “But maybe they don’t, you know?” he said, mouth still full. “Jonah, it’s been over two years. I know that you’ve been through a lot down there, but we’ve been through our own shit as well up here. The Fourth Fleet’s takeover has led to some... we’ll just call them drastic rules being enforced.

  “Everyone thought that we’d be living planetside by now,” he continued. “Not just a select few. No one suspected that some would be driven to madness by open air; no one knew that there would be a war, that everyone would be cooped up on this ship for years and years. Nobody knows when any of this will end. These people are tired, Jonah. You are ancient history to them. Never mind the fact that you have this big beard and that long braid now.”