Star Wolf (Shattered Galaxy)

by David G. Johnson

  John didn’t know much about the Fei, but if they all were as compassionate as Mel, he felt they were a race worthy of their Creator. Just her soft, sweet voice filled him with warmth. Unfortunately that warmth blended with John’s consuming sadness over Elena. His insides knotted over the possibility that she was still alive and he had left her there in the hands of that brutal torturer.

  He was shocked to realize that some small part of him, down in the depths of his heart, hoped that this was a hoax. If it were not, how could he ever face her again? How could she ever forgive him for leaving her behind?

  “I have to know,” John answered, hanging his head and releasing a deep sigh.

  “I understand,” Mel said and a wave of comfort washed over John along with her words. “In the meantime, I will run full diagnostics on the message file. If I find any evidence the recording was fabricated or altered, I will let you know.”

  “Thanks,” he said, starting to put a hand on her shoulder.

  He suddenly remembered how irresistible the emotions were every time he touched her. How could she make him feel this way? Elena was killed less than a week ago, and now there was a possibility she was even still alive. Why did he feel like a swooning schoolboy around the blue-skinned Fei communications officer? He withdrew his hand, instead simply nodding to her before turning to follow after the captain.

  Whatever Molon had to say to him, it was unlikely to be pleasant. At least the captain had the decorum to chew him out in private. John appreciated that.

  Every step of the short trip from the port bridge door, down the short corridor, and around the corner to Molon’s quarters was dreadful. However this discussion went, he had to watch his temper. The last thing he needed was to mouth off and cause Molon to reconsider taking him back to Ratuen.

  John stood outside the door to the captain’s cabin, took a deep breath, then pressed the panel button announcing his arrival.

  “Enter,” came Molon’s voice from inside.

  As far as John could tell through the door, Molon didn’t sound furious. That was a good sign, right? He stepped toward the hatch, and it slid open before him. Molon was already seated in a mag-locked swivel chair at the desk beside his bed. The captain’s quarters were large enough to also accommodate a three-seat sofa, which Molon nodded toward.

  “Have a seat, John.”

  “Look, captain, I—”

  “Have a seat,” Molon insisted, sternly but still with no hint of anger in his voice.

  John took a seat on the end of the couch nearest Molon. He found himself fiddling with his hands, unsure of exactly what to do with them. John cleared his throat, fixed his gaze on the floor at Molon’s feet, and strained not to sound too sheepish.

  “Not the best start to my first day as acting ship’s doctor, I suppose?”

  Molon laughed. This put John at ease enough to raise his eyes and meet Molon’s gaze.

  “Don’t worry about Voide,” Molon said, grinning. “She hates everyone.”

  “Even you?”

  “Hah, at times especially me.”

  “So how does a ship function like that?”

  “Surprisingly well, actually.”

  “She just seems so angry all the time,” John remarked.

  “She’s Prophane, John. She may have been raised by humans, but anger is in her DNA. What amazes me is how well she manages to rein it in most of the time.”

  “Most of the time?” John asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Yeah, she has her moments, but she has yet to murder a crew member, as far as I know. I doubt you will be the first.”

  “As far as you know?” John inquired, hoping Molon was being facetious.

  “Eh, there are rumors…” Molon said with a chuckle.

  Molon had to be kidding. At least the humorous banter served to lighten John’s mood. Maybe he wasn’t in as much trouble as he had feared.

  “That’s comforting,” John replied, playing along.

  “Ain’t it though?” Molon grinned. “Still, it would be in the best interest of your continued good health to avoid ever again even so much as remotely implying Voide is a coward.”

  The sudden serious shift in Molon’s tone and the stern look in his eyes conveyed to John in no uncertain terms that this part was not just witty banter. There was a genuine warning embedded.

  “Everyone has fears, captain,” John said, not sure he was ready to kowtow to the security chief’s temperamentalism just yet.

  Molon shook his head before locking eyes with John.

  “I’d buy that, Doc, if you were talking about a human, or a Lubanian, or heck even a Daemi. But, I’m not sure the Creator even put a fear gene in the Prophane. If He did, I‘ve never seen it.”

  As a doctor, John knew the fear response, fight or flight, was a part of every living creature. As a gambler with a knack for reading truths and bluffs in the faces of his opponents, he believed Molon wholeheartedly.

  “Anyway,” Molon said, the casual tone returning to his voice. “I didn’t call you here to talk about Voide; I called you here to talk about you and me.”

  “What about us?” John asked.

  “If you are going to serve aboard Star Wolf, there are some things I need to know, and some things you need to know.

  “Okay,” John said, intrigued by the change in direction. “What things?”

  “I understand you have been through a lot…are going through a lot, so your judgment isn’t very dependable right now.”

  Apparently John wasn’t getting out of the consequences of his actions on the bridge that easily. Still, Molon seemed fair and reasonable so hopefully whatever dressing down was coming may not be as bad as John had feared.

  “You think going after Elena is a mistake?” John dropped his gaze and sighed.

  “I think Voide is right, it is a trap. Taking you back to Ratuen puts every member of this crew at risk.”

  John’s heart sank. Had the captain decided to abandon the mission already? John hadn’t done anything to provoke Molon, at least as far as he knew, and they were already en route. Molon had already agreed to take the job, but was a verbal agreement enough? They hadn’t signed a contract. No compensation or security had changed hands. No terms had been reached or price even set. There was nothing binding Molon to continue.

  “So you changed your mind, then?” John asked, hoping he had misread Molon’s intentions.

  “No, I haven’t,” Molon replied, to John’s great relief. “I just want you to know I am not going into this blindly or out of some sense of misguided sympathy.”

  “Then why go, captain?” John said, fighting against his temper threatening to resurface. “Why take such a risk for someone you just met?”

  Molon folded his hands, resting his muzzle on his fingertips. He sighed and slowly blinked his eyes. John got the impression he was trying Molon’s patience.

  “I’m not doing this for you,” Molon finally replied. “I agreed to take you back to Ratuen, but I am not recklessly tossing my crew into danger over your emotional hysterics or just for a payday.”

  “Then why are you heading into what you already said you believe is a trap?”

  Molon shook his head before giving John a sidewise stare.

  “Do you think being mercenaries is a safe and secure job choice?”

  “Not particularly,” John admitted.

  “We get paid to go where people are trying to kill us. Risk is part of our life, but this isn’t just a paying gig, John, it’s a mystery.”

  “A mystery?” John said, raising an eyebrow. “You mean Elena’s message?”

  “I mean all of it,” Molon said, leaning forward in his chair. “Nothing about this rings true, and I hate being lied to.”

  John’s head was spinning trying to follow Molon’s reasoning. He agreed this was a mystery, but did Molon really believe solving it was worth dying for?

  “Being lied to?” John again attempted to catch up to Molon’s train of thought. “You mean Bro
ther Martin?”

  “Yes and no,” Molon replied, shaking his head. “He’s up to something, but Brother Martin is just a tiny piece of the puzzle.”

  John was an accomplished people-reader, but he found the captain baffling. He gave off all the airs of a simple, straightforward person, but there were deeper layers to this Lubanian.

  “So you agreed to take on this potentially deadly mission just to assuage your curiosity?” John probed.

  Molon’s look soured as he sat back in his chair and glared at John. The captain’s extended pause and withering stare were intensely disquieting.

  “Did I say something wrong, captain?” John asked finally, breaking the awkward silence.

  “I’m trying to decide if you are being sarcastic or antagonistic,” Molon said. “I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you are just slow-witted.”

  “Thanks,” John said, choosing not to rise to the insult.

  He might be a hermit-worlder who wasn’t familiar with how life worked on a merc ship, but he was getting a little tired of people insinuating he was mentally sluggish. He graduated in the top five percent of his class in medical school. He was an accomplished surgeon and president of an interstellar pharmeceuticals company. He may have many flaws, but lack of intelligence was not among them.

  “Do you really want to know why I do what I do?” Molon asked.

  “I admit, I’m curious,” John replied, glad to get to the end of guessing what Molon was thinking.

  “Well, to understand me, you need to understand a bit about my history and why I’m captaining Star Wolf.”

  John perked up. He had wondered about that quite a bit, actually. This little talk might prove enlightening. Besides, if Molon was reminiscing, he wouldn’t be focused about John’s antagonistic outburst on the bridge.

  “I actually am a bit of a history buff. I’d love to hear your story, Molon.”

  “Well, it starts before the Shattering. My birth father was a Lubanian soldier who served in the Humaniti Imperial Navy. He was killed during a peacekeeping mission near the Daemi border, but his best friend and comrade-in-arms, a human soldier, kept a promise they had made to each other.

  Soon after my father’s death, this human came for my mother and me. He gave up his military career, brought us to a human colony world, and he and his wife raised me like their own child. My birth mother had been sick for a long time and died a few years later, but my adoptive father taught me the same ideals under which he served Emperor Halberan.”

  “He sounds like a good man,” John remarked.

  “He was a good man, and a faithful soldier who taught me to believe in the Empire. I joined the Imperial Scouts, and like my birth father and my adoptive father before me, I devoted my life to serving the Empire of Humaniti.

  “When Emperor Zariah and Empress Rhia were assassinated on the day Zariah was to name which of his four children would succeed him as heir apparent, it changed the course of human history. The Shattering changed my life too.”

  “How so?” John asked.

  “I tried to be a good soldier, to maintain my position with the scouts under the Provisional Imperium, but High Archon Zarsus wasn’t a shadow of the man Zariah Halberan had been. I lost hope. Zarsus wasn’t leading a provisional anything. Stringing that technocrat Tubal Halberan along as if he might one day name him heir was a farce. Mathua Zarsus had seized power and had no intention of giving it up.”

  “At least we agree on that,” John interjected. “Tubal is a businessman, but nothing about him would inspire or command the loyalty of an interstellar empire. I believe Zarsus staged the assassination and used the confusion over the culprit to keep power from all of the rightful heirs.”

  “I eventually came to that same conclusion,” Molon agreed. With the more capable Halberan heirs opposing him, and Zarsus refusing to name a rightful successor, Humaniti will remain divided for the foreseeable future. The final nail in the coffin of the Provisional Imperium was when Zarsus made a pact with the Daemi, Humaniti’s oldest and greatest enemies.”

  “So you left the Scouts and picked up your own ship?” John asked.

  “Not exactly,” Molon sighed. “It took a while for me to overcome all the loyalty ideology my adoptive father instilled in me. I had to do what I could to salvage the Empire if possible.”

  “An ambitious goal for a lone Scout. How did you expect to manage that?”

  “I started voicing dissension from within. I thought respected citizens and soldiers like Twitch and I could inspire those loyal to the former emperor to band together. United, we might amass enough political pressure to force High Archon Zarsus’ hand, compelling him to name an official heir to the Empire and so end the fighting.”

  “I guess that didn’t exactly go according to plan.”

  “No, it didn’t. Once word got out that some Lubanian Scout officer was stirring up trouble, they set me up for a fall.”

  “Who did?” John asked.

  “I have my suspicions, but no proof.”

  “I see,” John replied. “So, what happened?”

  “I was working deep-cover against a pirate network,” Molon explained, “when a false report came out claiming I was in league with the pirates. I was accused of skimming off them and lining my own pockets with their pillage while feeding them information to stay ahead of authorities.”

  “Ouch,” John remarked. “So that got you kicked out of the Scouts?”

  “Worse. My identity as an undercover Imperial Scout was also leaked to the pirate leader, Razdi Chadra, scourge of the Hinterlands. I guess it was Zarsus’s way of making me disappear.”

  John’s respect and appreciation for his Lubanian rescuer was growing by the minute. He could understand why Molon’s crew held him in such high regard.

  “How’d you get out of that mess?” John asked.

  “I owe my life to Twitch and to a group of GalSec agents who had infiltrated Chadra’s pirate network. They had been operating outside the chain of command and without High Archon Zarsus’s knowledge.”

  “GalSec?” John said, raising an eyebrow. “You said Voide used to work for GalSec. Is that where you met her?”

  “Yeah, but a bit later. Once I was burned, Twitch and the other undercover agents pulled me out. Later, I was sent back in with a GalSec task force to take out Chadra and break the pirate ring once and for all.”

  John scowled. This tale had just taken a turn for the remarkable. He wondered if he was being played, or if Molon was really just that good at what he did.

  “You were accused of treason,” John said, “and GalSec still trusted you enough to send you back in undercover? That strains credulity, not to mention the question of why Chadra would let you back in after you betrayed him.”

  “To your first question,” Molon replied, “GalSec has its own factions. Voide’s former commanding officer had been watching me since I started voicing dissidence against Zarsus. So when GalSec got evidence I had been set up, Voide’s CO was determined to try and set things right.”

  “Okay,” John said, still scouring Molon for any hint that he was spinning a tall tale. “Let’s say I buy that part, but what about Chadra? Why would he let you back in?”

  “GalSec fixed that too. They ran with the bait Zarsus had laid about me being a traitor. Publicly I was dishonorably discharged from the Scouts and arrested for treason. GalSec staged a highly publicized incident where I, with Voide’s rather violent help, broke out of custody and went on the run.”

  “And Chadra fell for it?”

  “GalSec also set up a very convincing paper trail for Chadra to find, tying me to many of the anonymous tips he had received about raids. Turns out someone in GalSec had been helping the pirates all along, for what purpose they never told me. They just made it look like that someone was me.”

  “And that cinched it?”

  “With a little help from a certain rogue Pariah,” Molon replied with a grin. “Voide was assigned as GalSec tea
m lead on that mission. She had previously met with Chadra’s people to feed them the some of that intel I mentioned. They trusted her, and she put me forth as the brains behind the whole deal.”

  “But you are not still a fugitive. If you had been, Tede’s system alerts would have triggered the moment you logged our landing. So how did you unwind all this mess?”

  “During our second undercover op, the one Voide led, we got intel on Chadra’s whole organization. GalSec set up a huge, inter-sector sting that shredded Chadra’s pirate network. I saved Voide’s life in a firefight as we seized Chadra’s flagship, Star Wolf.”

  John’s jaw dropped. This merc vessel formerly belonged to a pirate leader. John fancied himself an adventurer because he had played with live kalo-cats at a game preserve and hunted zuma pigs with only a bow and arrow. All these things now seemed frivolous to John compared to Molon’s story. To think someone who had been through the stuff of legends was sitting here chatting with him was mind boggling.

  “You stole his ship?” John asked, unable to suppress his widened eyes and even wider smile.

  “Confiscated…and conveniently forgot to report on our mission logs, as per my agreement with GalSec senior leadership. It was part of my retirement package from GalSec along with a generous mustering-out payment.”

  “That’s quite a reversal of fortune,” John remarked, shaking his head as he tried to process it all.

  “Yeah. Anyway, after all the hullabaloo, I recruited a crew and tucked Star Wolf safely away in a remote system while the dust settled.”

  “So you got to arrest Chadra?”

  “Yes and no,” Molon answered.

  “That doesn’t sound good,” John said. “What happened?”

  “Chadra was slippery. We burned his organization to the ground, but he had enough loyalists left to break him out of custody during his transport to Corialis for trial.”

  “So he’s still on the loose, and you likely aren’t one of his favorite sophonts. Aren’t you worried he will come for you?”

  “It’s a big galaxy, and I’ve got his ship. Ships aren’t cheap, and it may be years before he can scrape together the scratch for another one.”