Good Intentions (Chaos of the Covenant Book 6)

by M. R. Forbes

  “What about Gloritants, Venerants, Honorants?” Phlenel said through her bot, which surprised Helk.

  “A talking machine?” he said.

  “I am a talking machine,” Keeper said. “An advanced artificial intelligence.”

  “Artificial intelligence? I don’t understand that term.”

  “Non-organic, yet able to think and reason.”

  “And feel?”

  “Within limits.”

  “That doesn’t sound very fulfilling.”

  “I am what I am.”

  “Right. Those titles belong to the military side of the ruling class. Like you mentioned with Prophet Thraven, he is also known by Gloritant as the leader of an army.”

  ‘What are the other castes?” Abbey asked.

  “The Lessers are below the Apostants. They’re citizens of the Nephiliat, born free. There are a number of races, though each serves the Apostants differently. The Executioners are brutes. Soldiers. Slavers. The Goreshin, the shapechangers, are servants in the Churches of the Prophets. Many of them swear allegiance to their masters and work as emissaries, spies, and recruiters. The Lalian are intellectuals. We operate businesses; we track resources.” He laughed, spreading his arms. “As you can see, we weren’t designed to fight.”

  “But you said you’re an Under, not a Lesser,” Abbey said.

  “There are free Lalians. There are enslaved Lalians. The Nephiliat has a long history of war between the Prophets. When one takes the citizens of another, they become Unders. That is how it’s done.”

  “So the Unders are slaves, regardless of race?” Benhil asked.

  “Yes, though the majority of Unders are like you or you.” He pointed at Benhil and Bastion. “There are many Lalian Unders. Hardly any Executioners. They are rarely captured, and when they are, they are quick to promise themselves as soldiers. They’re more valuable to keep as Lessers than to send to the front lines.”

  “It sounds complicated,” Bastion said.

  “It isn’t when you’ve spent your life around it, but I can see how to an outsider it may seem complex.”

  “You said the life of an Under is difficult,” Abbey said, leading him on the topic.

  “Even for one serving in the Palace of a Prophet,” Helk said. “Not only from Unders seeking favor, but from the whims of the Apostants, and in many cases even the Lessers. Unders have no rights, Queenie. None. If an Apostant approached me at my desk while I was balancing ledgers and slit my throat, no question would fall to them. And yet, many would envy my former position. Many more would envy the kindness of Prophet Cassandra.”

  He paused, looking away from them and staring at the wall.

  “I think we broke him,” Bastion said.

  Abbey glared at him, and he grabbed his lips with his fingers, holding his mouth closed.

  “Helk,” Abbey said. “I understand some of what you know may be difficult to talk about, but it could be important.”

  He looked back at her, his eyes moist again.

  “The Unders are bought and sold like meat,” he said. “Not everywhere, but at designated markets across the Extant. There are Apostants who feed on them. Who drink their blood as if it were water. I have heard there are others who cook and eat the flesh, and others still who abuse it in much worse ways. Lessers are nothing to them. Unders are less than that. Before I was sold to Tilkuk, the large Executioner you killed, I saw an Apostant cut the throat of an Under before he had even paid for her, drinking away her life in public view without a care.”

  “Human blood feeds the Gift,” Abbey said. “Restores it.”

  “And that;s an excuse?” Helk said. “It’s an abomination. It shouldn’t be like this.”

  “No, it shouldn’t. What’s happening here is going to happen beyond the Extant as well if I don’t stop it. How can you have compassion for what you saw, but not have compassion for that?”

  Helk paused. “I don’t know. Maybe I do. I lived as close to being a Lesser as any Under can hope.”

  “But Unders can become Lessers, and Lessers can become Apostants, and even Prophets, can’t they? Thraven was once a slave.”

  “Yes. If you are smart enough. If you are savage enough. Or if you are blessed with a unique appearance and can attract the attention of an Apostant. They take many Unders as partners, making them into consorts. Once an Under or Lesser has parented an Apostant child, they become an Apostant. That is the law.”

  “Maybe one of those Apostants has a soft spot for Unders?” Phlenel said. “Has there ever been an effort to reform the system?”

  “Not that I’ve heard of,” Helk said. “When an Under becomes an Apostant, they leave their life as an Under behind. They forget very quickly what it was like, and often become the cruelest of masters. I know that from experience.”

  He turned slightly, pulling down the shoulder of his stained shirt. A deep scar was etched into his flesh.

  “Jusin was a friend of mine. A cook in Cassandra’s kitchen. He was always handsome. He looked a lot like you.” He pointed to Bastion again. “One day, he caught the eye of one of Cassandra’s Venerants. She brought him to her chambers, and he impregnated her. The day the child was born healthy was the last day he ever worked in the kitchen. Three days after his son was born, he caught me glancing at another of Cassandra’s retinue. He took me aside and did this to me with an anger I had never seen before, and with a warning that he had only spared my life because of our former friendship. Three days.”

  He shifted his shirt again to cover the wound.

  “The Apostancy is poison to those who aren’t part of it,” he said. “Lessers and Unders both live in fear, Unders more so. It has been this way for thousands of years. It will always be this way.”

  “The corruption of the Gift,” Abbey said. “It changes those who possess it. It affects their minds. Lucifer did this with his lies. He betrayed the truth, he rewrote the Covenant and turned it into a dictate for war. It may be too late to stop it here, but it isn’t too late to stop it from spreading.”

  “How?” Benhil said. “Queenie, I thought you had a plan?”

  “So did I,” Abbey replied. “We need a new one.”

  “Frag. We left the Republic behind for what, again?”

  “I’m working on it,” she snapped. “I thought you might want to help, seeing as how you have experience with other cultures. If you’re going to whine, you can go back to your quarters.”

  Benhil’s face flushed. “No. Sorry, Queenie. Don’t get me wrong; I’m in. This just isn’t what I was expecting.”

  “You and me both.”

  “You said something about Unders in the military, on the front lines,” Bastion said. “You’re saying the Prophets conscript slaves?”

  “Yes. It isn’t uncommon for Gloritants to send in waves of slaves to force their opposition to expend resources killing them.”

  “Sounds familiar,” Gant said. “The Asura did the same thing to us.”

  “Asura?” Helk said.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Abbey said. “They aren’t a concern at the moment.”

  “What about ships?” Bastion asked. “Do the conscripted slaves know how to fly them?”

  “Lessers pilot the starships,” Helk said. “Well, that isn’t always true. The Prophet Rezel.”

  “What about him?”

  “Her,” Helk replied. “She’s the weakest of the Prophets. She suffered an embarrassing loss at Thraven’s hands a few years back. She went to Cassandra multiple times, looking for an ally, or at the very least a loan. She doesn’t have the assets to pay for her armies, so nearly all of her soldiers are Unders.”

  “How does she keep them in line?” Abbey asked.

  “Her strength is in her Congregation,” Helk said.

  “Congregation?” Gant said.

  “Her Apostant followers. She bears a strong resemblance to Lilith, the wife of Lucifer, and many worship her because of it. They believe she is Lilith reborn, or at the least a descend
ant of the Father. Many Apostants have left stronger Prophets to praise her.”

  “Keeper, put up the star map,” Abbey said.

  A projection of the Extant appeared above them.

  “Helk, are you familiar with the positioning of the Nephiliat worlds?” Abbey asked.

  He looked up at the map. “I don’t recognize this.”

  “We should be able to get a more recent map from the ship we captured,” Keeper said.

  “Good thought,” Abbey replied. She switched on her comm. “Ruby.”

  “Yes, Queenie?”

  “Have you started your diagnostic of the Nephilim ship?”

  “Aye, Queenie. The ship is converted from a Republic Gideon class transport. It is nearly two hundred years old.”

  “What about the disterium drive?”

  “The drive and its controller are both original.”

  “Great. I need you to build a map of where that ship has been. Helk, what does Razel call her section of the Nephiliat?”

  “The Liliat Empire,” Helk said.

  “Not to be confused with Lilian,” Bastion said. “Did Lucifer name your race after his wife, too?”

  “Yes, I believe he did. We are said to be of her intelligence, not her beauty.”

  “Shit, I hope not,” Benhil said.

  “What do you mean?” Helk asked.

  “Joker,” Abbey said.

  “Sorry, Queenie,” Benhil said.

  “Ruby, see if you can come up with anything that might be within the Liliat Empire.”

  “Aye, Queenie.”

  “What are you thinking, Queenie?” Gant asked.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Abbey said. “We need an army. Rezel has an army. It sounds like the only thing between it and us are a few shitty Apostants.”

  “I didn’t get the impression it was a few,” Bastion said.

  “However many there are,” Abbey said. “You wanted a plan? That’s the plan.”

  “So we’re going to steal an army now?” Benhil said, laughing. “In the words of our brother Okay, I like it.”

  18

  “One doesn’t simply take a slaver transport into the Liliat Empire and leave with an army,” Helk said.

  “Although it would be nice if it were that simple,” Bastion said.

  “First things first,” Abbey replied. “We aren’t going to steal the army. I’m thinking a little bigger than that.”

  “Bigger how?” Benhil asked.

  “Rezel’s going to give us her army.”

  “Are you crazy?” Bastion said.

  Even Helk laughed at the comment. “You said you want to free the slaves. Slaves are all she has, Queenie. There’s no chance you’ll convince her to give them up.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. Either she’ll give them to me, or I’ll take them, but I’d prefer an ally on this side of the universe, and I think I can earn one. Helk, is Rezel involved in any conflicts at the moment. Warring with a neighboring Prophet, perhaps?”

  “Prophet Thraven has forbidden mass conflict between the others,” Helk said. “Though that doesn’t mean there aren’t smaller clashes occurring throughout the Nephiliat. The Prophets struggle to keep themselves from creating chaos, and if history is any guide, there are likely to be hundreds of battles across the galaxy every day. I wouldn’t know what systems might be affected.”

  “Then we need to find out. If Rezel is sending her units out against another Prophet, or even better trying to defend herself from attack, that’s the opening we need.”

  “You intend to turn the outcome?” Gant said.

  “If we can, yes. We get on her good side, and I try to start pushing her away from Lucifer and back to the Shard.”

  “You think that’ll work?” Bastion asked.

  “The more I think about it, the more I’m starting to believe that’s why we’re here. We only need to convince one Prophet that they’ve got it all wrong and the entire Nephiliat will start to lose the cohesion that Thraven’s built. If we can turn them against one another, we might be able to get out of here with our army.”

  “It sounds great on the surface, Queenie,” Benhil said. “I doubt it will be as easy as that.”

  “Nothing ever is for us,” Abbey replied. “But we have to try. Helk, what do you think?”

  “I think you don’t know nearly enough about Nephilim society,” he replied. “And I doubt your plan will work. But I respect your courage to try.”

  “Are you interested in joining up to help us?”

  “What’s my other option?”

  “You can join the others. We’ll get everyone settled on the Covenant until we can drop you off somewhere that you won’t be made back into slaves.”

  “That might not be possible before you return your galaxy.”

  “It might not. At least you’ll be safe here.”

  “On a starship going into war?”

  “I don’t intend to call on the Covenant unless we have no other choice, but even then, this starship is a pretty safe place to be.”

  “Very well, Queenie. I’d rather be doing something than waiting for something to be done to me.”

  Abbey smiled. “See, I told you I could get at least one slave to fight back.”

  Helk smirked, realizing he had been led into that trap. “I suppose you did. I’d like to join the others for a while. I can help your, what did you call them?”

  “Rejects.”

  “I can help your Rejects get them organized. They trust me.”

  “Thank you,” Abbey said. “They’re our Rejects now.”

  “Welcome to the party,” Benhil said.

  “Joker, will you take Helk down to the others?”

  “Aye, Queenie,” Benhil said. “Follow me.”

  Benhil put his hand on Helk’s shoulder as the two of them left the room. Abbey overheard him as they headed away.

  “So, Helk. What are Lalian women like?” Benhil said.

  “Ruby,” Abbey said.

  “Yes, Queenie.”

  “As soon as you’ve got the data I requested, transfer it to Keeper and head up to the meeting space adjacent to the bridge. We’ll be waiting for you there.”

  “Yes, Queenie. It should only be a few more minutes. It would be done already, but the mainframe on this transport is quite old and slow.”

  “Understood. We’ll be here.”

  She closed the link to Ruby and turned her attention to Bastion. “If you can, try to talk to Helk. Get him to tell you as much as possible about the Nephiliat. He’s told me a lot, but I can tell he only trusts me so far, and he’s leaving some things out.”

  “You think he’d be more likely to trust someone like me?” Bastion asked.

  “Your intellect is beneath his, so he might,” Gant said.

  “What?” Bastion said. “Cheap shot, freak-monkey. You know, you look a lot like a Lalian, only hairier.”

  “The Lalian looks a lot like me, only uglier,” Gant corrected. “In fact, he looks a lot like you.”

  “Enough,” Abbey said, clenching her lip to keep from smiling.

  “He started,” Bastion said. “What’s the deal, anyway? It isn’t like you to shoot first.”

  “I was just seeing if I still had my wit. I do.”

  “Maybe, but it’s looking a bit dim.”

  “Imp,” Abbey said, unable to keep herself from laughing. The rest of the Rejects joined her. All except Keeper, who watched them with a flat expression.

  “You can’t even fake amusement, can you silver?” Bastion asked.

  “I didn’t find anything amusing enough to be worth expending the energy to fake,” Keeper replied.

  “You don’t think we’re funny?”

  “No. I find your banter juvenile.”

  “In other words, funny.”

  “Idiotic. Immature.”

  “Funny.”

  “And certainly beneath the stature of the Chosen.”

  “We need to release a little tension sometimes,” Bastion s
aid. “You know, let off some steam. Maybe it’s dumb, but it helps deal with the heaviness of the shit we’re stuck in.”

  “Perhaps you should try intercourse,” Keeper said. “I understand Ruby is a synthetic designed for that purpose?”

  Bastion fell silent, his mouth hanging open. The other Rejects froze as well.

  “Who told you that?” Abbey said.

  “The Trover. Pik. He said he would like to have intercourse with her to relieve some of the tension.”

  Abbey closed her eyes, shaking her head. “Of course he did.” She would have a talk with him later. “How about we drop the whole subject?” She glanced at each of the Rejects, who remained silent. “Good. Let’s all just stay quiet until Ruby gets here.”

  “I’m here, Queenie,” Ruby said, entering the room.

  “Perfect timing,” Bastion said. “How much of that did you catch?”

  “All of it. I’m aware of Pik’s interest in my prior functions. I’m also aware he isn’t the only one on board who would like to take advantage of my alternate data set.”

  “Take advantage of my alternate data set,” Bastion replied, laughing. “That’s one way of putting it.”

  “I’ve passed the data to Keeper,” Ruby said.

  “Keeper?” Abbey said.

  The projection of the star map changed, new points appearing within it. It rotated above their heads, lines fading into view to denote different sections of space.

  “These are the borders of the Prophet territories, as best I can plot them based on the data from the transport’s mainframe.”

  One of the segments turned green. It was small, composed of no more than a dozen worlds.

  “I believe this is the Liliat Empire,” Keeper said. “It borders three other Prophets, including Thraven’s holdings, here.”

  A mass of red appeared beside the green.

  “Frag,” Bastion said at the sight of it. “He’s conquered half the Extant.”

  “He has,” Keeper agreed. “And managed to keep it while he’s been across the universe, working to capture the resources he lacks.”

  “I’m not feeling that great about our plan,” Bastion said.

  “We haven’t even gotten started yet,” Abbey replied. “It seems the Carrion has gotten around.”