Scions of Change

by Amy DuBoff

  “They’ll come,” Saera murmured, sensing his thoughts. She rose from the work station in front of Wil and placed a reassuring hand on his arm.

  “But when?”

  “When we need them most,” she replied.

  Does every rescue have to be at the last minute? Wil groaned.

  “I won’t let myself freak out yet,” Michael said. He eyed his daughter, Corine, busy at the controls of the right station in the center of the room. Though she hadn’t been born with the telekinetic gifts of her parents, she’d already proved herself to be a highly capable Militia officer. Fatherly pride filled his gaze as he watched her work. “And, I’d rather be in here than out there.”

  Wil forced a smile. “Of course.”

  Michael immediately realized his misstep. “Sorry. I know Raena and Jason are…”

  “They can hold their own,” Wil replied. “I wouldn’t have sent Jason to the rift if I didn’t think he could handle it.”

  All the same, Wil sensed a wave of worry emanate from his wife. “Something’s wrong,” she said privately in his mind.

  “I feel it, too, but it could be any—”

  A red warning light flashed across the main viewscreen.

  “Some kind of shot was just fired from the surface at the Guard destroyer in orbit of Tararia,” Michael reported.

  “It wasn’t a weapon,” Corine corrected. “That was a telekinetic blast.”

  Wil ran over to Corine’s station. “What was the point of origin?” I hope that wasn’t the Priesthood’s doing…

  “The Sietinen estate,” Corine replied, her eyes wide with wonder.

  Wil sighed. “My parents taking matters into their own hands, no doubt.”

  Saera inspected the scene. “No wonder. That destroyer was in geosynchronous orbit.”

  “The Tararia Guard wouldn’t—” Wil started to object, but his wife pointed at the screen. “Oh, shite.”

  Alerts lit up across the board as the Tararian Guard ships moved into combat positions against the TSS fleet.

  “Well, that escalated quickly,” Wil muttered.

  The communications officers shouted to Wil, “Sir, you need to see this.”

  Fok! What else? Wil directed his attention to a screen on the officer’s console to the left of the central pathway.

  A live video feed was playing of a crowd gathered on Crydael—everyone moving as one entity while they advanced on the TSS Militia guards sent to keep peace.

  It’s the mind control agent! They’re actually using it on their own people… Wil’s stomach turned over.

  The officer gave a grim nod. “Reports are coming in from every major world. Dozens of accounts.”

  Wil turned to Michael and Saera. “Send in the teams—divide them up as best you can. We need to diffuse the riots before anyone gets hurt.”

  “Teams are in transit,” Michael confirmed. “I don’t know if we can handle this scale,” he added privately to Wil.

  “That’s the least of our worries. If civilians are being controlled, it could just as well be influencing the Tararian Guard.”

  “What about the TSS?” Michael asked.

  “Let’s hope that antidote from the war we proactively distributed is effective against this variation of the neurotoxin.”

  His friend nodded. “We’ll take samples from a few civilians and see what we can learn.”

  “Shite!” the communications officer exclaimed.

  “What?” Wil demanded.

  “All Tararian Guard ships now have weapons locked on the TSS fleet.”

  Fok! So the Priesthood is using the neurotoxin against them, too—they wouldn’t have one hundred percent compliance if it was only orders. Reasoning won’t work. Wil took an unsteady breath. “Michael, tell our fleet to defend itself. Target enemy weapon’s systems and jump drives, but try to keep the rest of the ship intact.”

  “I’m on it,” he acknowledged.

  Wil set his jaw. There has to be a way to end this without casualties… Enough people have already died for the Priesthood.

  CHAPTER 17

  While the Conquest was a formidable vessel in its own right, being in the weapon’s lock of more than a dozen warships had left Jason feeling rather outgunned—but that was almost certainly the intent.

  Jason maintained his facade of calm. “General Lucian, are you preparing to fire on my ship?”

  “This is your final warning to stand down,” the general replied on-screen. His narrowed eyes accented angular features lined by years of scowling.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” Jason replied. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if it comes to it.”

  Rianne took a shaky breath at her station in the front of the Command Center.

  “Then you have forced my hand.” General Lucian ended the transmission.

  “We should probably brace for impact…” Jason suggested.

  “Shields are up,” Rianne confirmed. “They’ll target weapons first and then our jump drive.”

  “In that case, we should probably make it a difficult target to hit.” Jason gripped the handholds at the podium in front of his command chair. “You trust me, right?”

  Rianne glanced back at him over her shoulder. “I barely know you.”

  “Well, you trust my dad, at least.”

  “I do.”

  Jason nodded. “Then trust that he trained me well.”

  “What are you—”

  Before she could complete the question, Jason linked with the ship. He felt the bioelectronic interface respond to his inputs, becoming an extension of his physical self. All the ship’s systems were accessible in his mind.

  But what he had planned was not through the ship himself. He used the neural interface to link with the ship only so that it would be a closer part of him, to make it easier to grasp. With it held firmly within his mind, he initiated a spatial distortion—drawing the ship with him to the edge of subspace.

  Rianne gasped when she realized what he was doing, but otherwise remained motionless and quiet.

  Jason concentrated on holding the ship, a much larger object than he was used to pulling into a distortion with him. He’d practiced with his father using this very vessel, but it was different having someone else there for backup. This was all on him.

  Hovering in that state at the edge of subspace, the ship was only an echo in the physical world—impervious to weapon’s fire. Telekinetic energy discharge, however, was not confined to a single physical plane.

  Jason maneuvered the ship outside the sphere of enemy ships and lined up with the flagship. The motion took minutes from Jason’s vantage, but the spatial distortion meant real-time would be advancing much slower outside the distortion field. To General Lucian, it would appear the Conquest moved in the blink of an eye—and without the use of its jump drive.

  I can’t wait to hear what he has to say about this. Jason smirked as he brought the TSS ship into a broadsiding position only fifty meters from the flagship. As soon as he dropped the Conquest back into rift space, the Tararian Guard would be hit with a barrage of proximity alerts and be far too close to the TSS vessel to fire. Here it goes.

  Jason returned the vessel to the rift.

  For five seconds, the Tararian Guard fleet made no move. Their weapon locks had broken when the Conquest suddenly shifted from its former position, and it would take some time to reestablish the locks at the new position. However, no locks came.

  Instead, an incoming communication request illuminated on the front viewscreen.

  With a smug grin on his face, Jason answered the call from General Lucian. “Hello, General. It looks like your ship could use a fresh coat of paint.”

  “You’re foking insane!” the general exclaimed. “How did you do that?”

  “You maybe should have led with the second part. I don’t think I want to tell you after you opened with an insult—or maybe it’s not an insult. I’ll have to think about it.”

  The general’s face flushed wit
h rage. “Stand down!”

  Jason gazed back at him, unflinching. “You know, since you seem so intent on talking down to me like a child, I may as well play the role. If you want me to stand down: make me.”

  “Smooth…” Rianne muttered just loud enough for Jason to hear without the mics picking it up.

  “Oh, come on—this guy’s the worst.”

  General Lucian sputtered and deactivated the comm channel.

  “Rianne, if he moves his ship, match it. Keep him uncomfortably close,” Jason instructed.

  “A stalemate never lasts forever,” the Militia officer replied.

  “I don’t intend for it to. We just need—”

  “Oh, shite!”

  Red lit up across the screen as a volley of energy weapon’s fire struck the Conquest’s shields.

  “What the f—” Jason cut off when he saw the sea of fighters swarming around his ship.

  The small crafts were designed for stealth and had done their job—sneaking up for a precision strike where the larger warships had failed. At that proximity, it didn’t matter that the flagship was so close. Their shots were true and packed a serious punch.

  “I count one hundred eighty fighters,” Rianne reported. “We can hold our own against a handful, but this many will wear us down fast.”

  “I can’t hold us in a distortion indefinitely. Maybe if I just augment the shields…” Jason linked with the ship once more.

  Each impact of the energy weapons with the shield felt like he’d been shot himself—a searing heat and electric shock that zapped his senses. He tried to feed energy through himself into the shield, but processing the rapid bombardments soon clouded his mind and he was forced to pull back.

  He took in the sight on the viewscreen surrounding him. The fighters were everywhere. Even if he moved the ship, they would be there in an instant.

  “Do we retreat?” Rianne asked. “We can come back with more ships and retake the rift.”

  Jason shook his head. “And what if one of those ships is carrying some of the High Priests? We can’t let them access the tear, even for a moment.”

  Rianne consulted her console. “Shields are down to forty percent. We’ll be facing complete collapse in three minutes.”

  “We can’t stay here.” Jason gripped the podium and linked with the ship. We have to defend the tear! Every other TSS ship is already subscribed to the other worlds. I have to find a way.

  He initiated another spatial distortion around the ship and began moving the vessel further into the rift. Perhaps if he could get closer to the tear, he could tap into some of that power himself—just enough to stave off destruction. A little draw from it wouldn’t hurt.

  Jason could hear the sweet energy within the tear calling to him from a distance. He drew the Conquest toward it, eager to have a taste of the power. It would be the only way for them to stop the Guard fleet. Just a little bit of help and he’d be able to stand up to them.

  They approached the site of the tear. It was invisible to the naked eye within the blackness, but Jason could feel it beckoning him.

  “What are you planning?” Rianne asked cautiously.

  “We have to defend this position,” Jason replied. “They’ll follow us. I need to be ready.”

  The Militia officer shook her head. “We’re defending this location because that tear isn’t safe. You’re not planning to… tap into it, are you?”

  “What other choice do we have?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  Jason ignored her continued protests. The tear sang at the edge of his consciousness. He returned the Conquest to the physical plane of the rift and then reached out toward the tear, extending a tendril of energy from himself to sample the power within its depths. It was so close, he could almost reach it. Just a taste…

  “Wait!” Rianne called out. “Subspace distortions all around us.”

  Jason pulled back, just shy of touching the tear.

  A smile spread across Rianne’s face. “It’s the Aesir.”

  Three dozen ships came into focus all around them. The vessels shined like pearls in the blackness, the refined lines and arching forms of the ships a spectacle at the scale of a warship. As the subspace cloud dissipated around them, the ships all oriented to face the direction from which the Tararian Guard would advance.

  Jason released the telekinetic tendril he’d extended from himself. He realized his heart was racing. This power really is intoxicating. I almost gave in… He shook off the spell. I’m here to protect, not be consumed myself.

  “Open a comm channel with the Aesir,” Jason instructed.

  “Declined,” Rianne replied after five seconds. “Oh, stars!”

  The Tararian Guard ships appeared—a jump into position from their previous locations. They opened fire on the Aesir fleet.

  Rings rippled along the Aesir ships’ shields from the impact sites. Volley after volley launched from the Guard ships, and yet the Aesir did nothing in retaliation.

  “Pull back,” Jason instructed Rianne. What are the Aesir’s plan here? Are they going to help or just sit there and take a beating?

  Rianne seemed equally confused by their actions. “No sign of weapons initiation on the Aesir ships, she reported. Their shields are holding at full power, though.” Her brow furrowed. “Hold on… I’m actually not picking up any sign of weapon systems on the ships.”

  Jason smiled. “Oh, that is brilliant.”

  “Care to enlighten me?”

  “I’d wager those ships,” he swept his hand to encompass the fleet depicted on the viewscreen before them, “are all like a super-advanced version of the Conquest. The weapons are the ship itself—one, giant energy amplifier. And with the Guard ships firing on them, they’re just charging the batteries.”

  She chuckled. “Well, that’ll be a problem for the Guard ships.”

  “Indeed. Any second…”

  Each of the Aesir ships flashed with pure white light. Beams arced between the ships, sparking with electrical energy. The brightness of the beams intensified, and then rays branched out toward the Tararian Guard fleet.

  The Guard ships shuddered as each was simultaneously struck by a ray. As the ray passed over each, lights on the Guard ships extinguished for a moment before flickering back on. When every one of the ships had been struck, the white beams dissolved.

  “That’s incredible…” Rianne breathed. “Weapons and propulsion have been knocked out, but all other systems remain intact.”

  “Conscious control,” Jason said. “Wow.”

  The screen illuminated with an incoming communication request from the Aesir, which Jason accepted.

  “Nice timing,” he said. “That was an impressive show.”

  The man on the other end of the call was not someone Jason had seen previously. He had the same ageless appearance of the Oracles, but his skin was much closer to a standard Taran tint and his eyes were warm brown. “When we asked the TSS to defend the rift, we thought you’d subscribe more than one ship to the task.”

  Jason shrugged. “We’re a little tied up at the moment.”

  “I see.” The man frowned. “You are Jason Sietinen, correct?”

  “I am. And you are…?”

  “You may call me Adam,” the man replied. “I could be considered a general for the Aesir fleet. However, such titles are not part of our culture.”

  “Well, Adam, you have a flare for theatrics and I like your style. I’m very pleased to welcome you to the rift.”

  “We will place fortifications around this site,” Adam stated. “I hope our actions will prove to be a sufficient deterrent for other Guard ships.”

  Jason nodded. “I wouldn’t mess with you, that’s for sure. I don’t suppose you have any more ships to spare?”

  “The rift is the most important site to protect, so we are only the first wave. Reinforcements for the TSS fleet are in transit,” Adam confirmed.

  “That’s a relief! I was afraid you weren’t g
oing to show up.”

  Adam inclined his head. “Your statement to the Oracles resulted in a long debate. I was not privy to the deliberations, but I do know Dahl was struck by your words—enough to alter our plan.”

  “Really?” Do those alternations help or hurt us?

  “That conversation is not my concern, though. My only mandate is to protect this place.”

  “We have that in common,” Jason replied. “You got us out of a tough spot, so you’re more than welcome here. Make yourselves comfortable.” If they make a move toward the tear, though, they’ll have another thing coming.

  * * *

  Wil shook his head as he took in the scene unfolding on holoprojector before him. The Tararian Guard fleet was weapons-hot across the board and there was no way for the TSS to pose any kind of opposition without a major loss of life.

  “Maybe we should just pull back?” his wife suggested.

  “And let the Priesthood carry out their plan, whatever it is? No,” Wil objected.

  “Saera has a point,” Michael interjected. “Perhaps we should pull back and focus the fleet in larger numbers at a few worlds at a time.”

  “We wait it out,” Wil insisted. The Aesir will come… they have to.

  “Sir, we just got a proximity alert,” Corine announced from her station. “Guard vessels: two battleships, a carrier, and four cruisers just dropped out of subspace at Headquarters.”

  Wil groaned. “Please tell me it’s at least in the blind spot from Earth…”

  “Yes, just barely,” she confirmed.

  That’s one bit of good news. “Any message from them?”

  Corine listened to her comm. “Same blanket transmission as to the rest of the fleet—‘surrender at once or else’ gist.”

  Michael sighed. “Well, now we’re stuck in here.”

  “Not that we were planning to go anywhere.” Wil’s mind raced. “Okay, we know the Guard and the civilian population are being controlled by the neurotoxin, right?” His friends nodded. “What about the dynasties? Has Sietinen reported any odd behavior?”

  “No,” Corine replied. “And it’s not all civilians—just concentrated clusters in the main population centers.”