by Sarah Noffke
“Send whatever ships we have to retrieve the civilians,” ordered Julianna as soon as the team was back aboard the ArchAngel.
“Automated shuttles are inbound,” returned Pip, only a few moments later.
While the rescue took place, the crew worked on retrieving the enemy shuttle, maneuvering it into one of the cargo bays. Julianna, Lars, and Eddie, along with several security officers, stood outside the little ship, waiting for ArchAngel and Pip to override the system and open the door. As soon as they did, Eddie planned on taking this Vas fellow directly to a holding cell and deliver him to General Reynolds as soon as possible. All their hard work was about to pay off.
“Override complete,” announced Pip. “Opening airlock.”
The door cracked open, releasing internal atmosphere into the bay. It slid down, beneath the shuttle, transforming into a small staircase and revealing the pilot inside.
But it wasn’t the one they expected.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” muttered Julianna.
The alien standing there was none other than Commander Orsa himself, rather than General Vas.
Lars darted towards the shuttle, leaping over the stairs and grabbing Orsa by the throat. “What is this?!” barked Lars, pressing his pistol against the Kezzin’s face. “What are you doing here?”
Orsa smiled through the pressure of Lars’ fist, staring up at him across the barrel of the gun. “Good to see you again, traitor.”
Eddie took a step towards the shuttle. “I gotta say, Lars has a point. If you’re here then where is Vas?”
Orsa laughed, wheezing as Lars tightened his grip. “We tricked you. I’ve been controlling the other shuttle from this one, using it as a weapon. And General Vas was already gone before you—”
“Don’t you see the destruction you’ve caused?” raged Lars.
“You’re the one who’s turned your back on your people!”
“I’ve done no such thing!” he yelled.
“You’re a traitor,” insulted Orsa.
“I betrayed you for the sake of our people. You’re a danger to all Kezzin! You would have us murder and pillage, all for the sake of your own ego. What comes next, Commander? What happens when the Federation responds with due force? What would you do under the full assault of their wrath? You would awaken a sleeping giant with open arms, all to satisfy your own desire for power?” Lars scowled at his former master. “You’re the traitor, Commander. You sold our people to Vas without a thought to our future.”
“I did it to save us!”
“No,” said Lars, letting him go. Orsa staggered back, clutching the place on his neck where Lars had held him. “You did everything for yourself.”
Lars turned away from the Commander, a look of sadness on his face.
“You bastard!” shouted Orsa, withdrawing a knife from his backside lunging forward.
Eddie and Julianna reacted instantly, each of them rushing to stop the knife. Before it touched Lars, both their hands snagged Orsa’s wrist, and together they threw him back and onto the floor of the shuttle. “I don’t fucking think so!” shouted Eddie.
The knife left Orsa’s hand and slid along the metal grate beneath the nearest seat.
Julianna punched the Commander in the jaw. “Fuck you and the horse you rode in on.”
Orsa trembled, trying to pull away.
She pulled him to his feet and wrapped his hands behind his back, securing him. “Let’s go!” she barked, pushing him out of the ship.
Eddie and Lars watched her leave with the new prisoner, several security officers following behind the pair.
***
Hatch sat alone in the second cargo bay, staring at the spot where he had previously worked on the Q-Ship. That one had been designed after he’d left the Federation, a mere replica of his original design. His actual creation was now destroyed, lost in the self-destructive blast of a madman. All that time developing it, modifying, tweaking. All of that was lost.
He reached to the floor and picked up a wrench with his tentacle, examining it. “Goddammit,” he muttered.
“What is it, Doctor?” asked Pip, his voice coming over the nearby speaker.
Hatch started to look, but stopped, realizing that the E.I. had no face or presence. He was everywhere, in all parts of the ship. “It’s nothing,” said Hatch, tossing the wrench on the floor. It clanked and rattled. “I was just thinking.”
“About what?”
“My poor life decisions.”
“Could you be more specific?” asked the E.I.
“Why do you want to know?”
“You do not seem like yourself, so I am curious.”
Hatch sighed. He knew he shouldn’t feel this way about a piece of technology, even one he’d spent so long developing, but it was difficult. He couldn’t help himself. “I guess I’m just pissed that they blew up my fucking ship, Pip.”
“You mean the Q-Ship, correct?”
“Yeah,” confirmed the mechanic.
“Is it difficult to lose something you created?” asked Pip.
“It is,” replied Hatch, a somber tone in his voice.
“I am sorry,” the E.I. responded. “I have lost things. I have lost friends.”
“You’ve had friends?” asked Hatch, surprised at the E.I.’s use of the term.
“I believe so,” answered Pip. “But perhaps my assessment of the word is incorrect. I have known individuals with whom I have shared time and discourse. They are no longer alive, nor can I speak with them again. They are gone forever, and knowing this fills me with…”
“With what?”
“I don’t know,” Pip admitted, after a moment. “I would like to call it loss, but it is difficult to define with any true precision. Is that wrong? Am I incorrect?”
“No,” said Hatch. “I think that’s probably right.”
“Do you ever think about people in such terms?”
“Sometimes,” admitted Hatch. “It’s one of the things that reminds us that we’re alive.”
“But I’m not alive,” said Pip. “Not like the rest of you.”
Hatch didn’t answer.
“What will you do now, Doctor?” asked Pip.
The mechanic glanced at the place where the ship had been, not long ago, drenched in oil stains and covered in tools and parts. “Now?” he echoed, thinking about it for the first time. “I suppose my job is still what it was, to maintain the Q-Ships.”
“Is that your only purpose?” asked Pip.
“My only purpose?” muttered Hatch. “No, Pip. I don’t think any of us has a single purpose. Not when you consider how vast our experiences are and the breadth of our lives.”
“I have many protocols and functions,” replied the E.I.
“Ain’t that the truth,” said Hatch. “You’re an impressive creature, that’s for sure.”
“Do you truly think so?”
Hatch laughed. “I do, Pip. In fact, I’d like to have a closer look at your software, if that’s okay.”
“Why would you want to do that?” asked Pip.
Hatch turned around and faced the other side of the bay. “I figure, maybe I can make some upgrades. You know, help you grow a bit more.”
“Grow?” asked Pip. “You think I can expand my programming?”
“I don’t see why not,” said Hatch.
“Would such modifications allow me to better assist the team?”
“Is that what you want?” asked Hatch.
“Very much so, yes,” answered Pip, and for a moment Hatch thought he heard a touch of enthusiasm in the E.I.’s voice.
“Then, let’s see what we can do, my little friend.”
“Whatever I can do to assist, I am willing,” answered Pip.
Hatch smiled, waddling over to the nearby wall, cracking open the interface board. He retrieved a small pad and plugged it into the jack. “Okay, Pip. Let’s see what makes you who you are.”
***
Back in the cargo bay, Eddie and
Lars were finally alone, all the security officers and personnel finally having left. Lars was quiet, he noticed. Almost isolated in thought. “Are you good?” asked Eddie, looking at his friend. Despite only knowing the Kezzin for a short time, he could tell something was wrong.
Lars nodded, slowly. “I am. Thank you.” A moment later, he walked over to the wall and stared out through the large glass window, towards the system they’d just come from.
Eddie waited, briefly, letting the mood settle. “You know, the shit Orsa said to you…it’s not true. In fact, it’s grade-A bullshit.”
“I know,” said Lars, not sounding convinced. “He’s a coward and a liar.”
“But you’re not,” Eddie told him, walking to his side.
“Aren’t I?” muttered Lars, his eyes distant and cold. “Everything he said to me was true. I betrayed them. I left the Brotherhood. Perhaps I truly am a coward.”
“You stood up for what you believed in, Lars. My people call that bravery. We call it having values. Just because your leaders give an order, it doesn’t make it right. You saw that and you acted. You stood up for your family and refused to be a tool of destruction. People like Orsa only want power for themselves. You’re not like that, Lars. You’re a good man.”
“Thank you,” said Lars, smiling a little. “Your words mean a great deal to me, Edward Teach, even though you are an ugly one.”
Eddie shook his head. “Same to you, Lars Malseen,” he replied, and it was the truth. He did appreciate him, the same way he did the rest of his team. Julianna, Hatch, Pip, and ArchAngel. All the people on this ship. Even General Reynolds. Each of them had given him something, a gift of trust, long before he came here. Long before he proved himself.
They saw a lost man, wandering the galaxy without purpose. They believed in him, and that was more than anyone had ever done. More than anything Eddie could’ve asked for, to be given purpose again, to be told he was useful.
He was a soldier, through every fiber of his flesh and his soul, every shred of his being. He was a man of service. To lose that status had been the greatest tragedy of his life, and yet, somehow, for whatever reason, General Reynolds and Julianna had found him and brought him home. They saved him from oblivion, from himself.
Now, he was back, and with a new family. To whatever end the journey took him, at least he would be with the people he had come to trust. At least he would have them beside him, giving him purpose.
Standing there in the cargo bay, neither Lars nor Eddie spoke again for quite some time. Instead, they stared out into the twinkling sea of light beyond the darkness, watching the universe together, contemplating how they had come to be here.
And together, they remembered.
EPILOGUE
Vas sat patiently in a room with no windows, waiting for the man he was supposed to meet. He’d come a long way to get here, escaping the attack on his facility, losing many soldiers in the process. The last few weeks had been staggering to his network, with repeated losses to both his finances and military forces. Without any assistance, he could be looking at a complete collapse of his entire infrastructure.
He touched the small hydration device on his hip, meant to keep his body from drying out. The Trid had not evolved to live on land for extended periods of time. In order to travel off planet, technology was built to accommodate their needs, including devices such as this. Without it, he would dehydrate and die. It was a risk worth taking, however, once the Trid achieved the power they so desperately deserved.
If only Vas had been allowed to continue his work, his victory would have been assured.
But instead, the Federation had found him, despite his careful planning and attempts at staying hidden. Still, if he could remain off their radar for a while, he might be able to recoup his losses.
But such an outcome was reliant on the present meeting. If it went poorly, there would not be a second chance.
The door opened across the room, and an individual in dark blue clothing entered, a human with a wide-brimmed hat.
Even after a year of taking orders, Vas still did not know his name.
Vas got to his feet, nervously. “Thank you for coming.”
“I came because you couldn’t do the job,” said the man, taking a seat across the table, staring at Vas with dark eyes.
Vas sat back down. “I apologize,” he told the man with the wide-brimmed hat. “We had no way of predicting that the Federation would attack us.”
“How do you know it was the Federation?”
Vas hesitated. The truth was, he didn’t know. Not at all. The only evidence he had for it was that a few of the soldiers were human, which wasn’t enough to lay the blame on the Federation as a whole. After all, humans were all over the galaxy. There was even one sitting across from him now. “Their weapons were advanced. They were highly trained. Who else could it be?”
“So, you don’t actually know,” said the man. “Typical. I demand answers and you give me speculation.”
“I-I’m sorry.”
“Save your apologies. I want answers. I want the truth. Who were these people that killed all your men? How did they find you? How did they get through the defense network that I loaned you?”
Vas said nothing. He had no answers to give.
“As I expected.”
“Please, give me a second chance at defending our movement,” begged Vas. “I promise you, this will not happen again. I still have an army of Trid and Kezzin soldiers waiting for orders.”
“An army that could just as easily be led by someone else,” cautioned the man. “I could kill you now and no one would miss you. No one would care.”
Vas swallowed.
The man tapped his chin. “But I won’t do that. Not yet. It would be troublesome to train a new pet to do this work.”
“Y-You mean I can continue to serve?” asked Vas, rather surprised.
“For now, yes,” answered the man. “But fail again and you will suffer the full wrath of the New Empire. Do you understand me, Vas?”
Vas nodded. “Yes, sir.”
The man rose to his feet and started to leave. “As always, I will send you encoded instructions on your next target. Don’t do anything until you hear from me. Do you understand?”
“I do.”
“Good.”
The human left, closing the door behind him, leaving Vas to himself. The remaining silence was deafening, and for a brief moment, Vas felt a shiver of fear creep down his backside. If he failed again, he was done. The man with the wide-brimmed hat would kill him.
But the risk was worth it. The Brotherhood would rise again, and those humans, whoever they truly were, would not stand in the way.
General Vas would see to that.
FINIS
Author Notes - Sarah Noffke
Written November 11, 2017
You know those conversations that change your life, but you don’t realize you’re having them until afterwards? I have those conversations often when talking with Jeff, my cowriter for this series. You can call him JN if you need to. I used to call him Chaney. He doesn’t like me to call him that anymore, me thinks (mostly I know that because he told me).
Anyway, I remember the day we discussed this series. It had been a project Jeff had started. Then he’d been distracted by his own series and worried about how he’d finished both. I wished I could say I was plastered when I agreed to take on yet another series in the Anderle machine, knowing how demanding the deadlines are to keep the voracious readers happy. The truth was it was late morning, so I was mostly sober. I kid. You’ll get used to it. Actually, Jeff says that most people can’t tell when I’m joking. Apparently I spent way too much of my youth watching Jack Benny. Before you wonder if I’m gray-haired making such a reference, please know that I usually only watch programming if it’s British or old. I’m a weird snob like that. Remind me later to tell you about Red Dwarf.
Okay, back to that autumn morning when I decided I hated free time and wanted
to take on another series. Jeff and I talk on the phone almost every day. That’s what you do when you like someone who also writes. Usually we discuss our current work in progress. He gives me ideas. I hopefully give him ideas. I had this harebrained idea that since we already discuss books so much, why not write a series together. There’s no better way to break a relationship then to sign on to do a huge twelve book series, right. I kid, yet again. Actually this has been an incredibly rewarding experience so far. Jeff is my best friend. He’s a writer. We spend a lot of time together. I can’t think of a better person to do this with.
Has it been a challenge to write military space opera? Well, some of you might have read my other works, so you know this isn’t my usual genre. I hope that’s not a surprise. When Jeff asked me if I could do it I said, “You just replace the wand with a gun, right?” You’re wondering if I’m kidding again… I’m not. I’m writing the Soul Stone Mage Series in the Oriceran universe for LMBPN. I also have five other NA and YA fantasy series. So I get asking the question about my comfortability writing space opera. When asked the question I answered with, “I’ve watched every episode of Red Dwarf.” I told you it had to be British and/or old for me to watch it. And as hard as it is to believe I’ve watched Red Dwarf as a child and consequentially never watched a Disney movie until I was an adult. My point isn’t that I was strangely sheltered. It’s that I knew I could do anything I decided to. So I said yes to Jeff and yes to Michael. And I was incredibly relieved when Craig read my first space opera and said, “I think you’ve been writing space opera all along and never realized it.”
Author Notes - JN Chaney
Written November 11, 2017
When Michael and I first talked, I had no idea that we’d ever end up writing together. He had still yet to take BA into space, mind you, so the prospect of writing a military space opera set in the Kurtherian universe wasn’t something either of us were actively mulling over.
