Call of Courage: 7 Novels of the Galactic Frontier

by C. Gockel

  The group watched through the eyes of the Entho-la-ah-mines on Kii-la-ta as the Ashamine invaded, raiding their city with rail guns and long swords. None had been spared, not even the young. They’d wiped out the entire hive.

  After the Slaughter, the Entho-la-ah-mines held many meetings. The group watched some of them through Cazz-ak's eyes. Claiming self-defense, the Ashamine tried to explain away their actions. Cazz-ak knew that was a lie. Looking back, it was obvious the humans had been stalling the Entho-la-ah-mines, hoping to keep them from developing a military. They needed time to convert their newly gained resources into warships. The group felt Cazz-ak's sadness and anger—an emotion new to their race—that the humans would deceive them. The human mentality was so alien it was hard to place it into a comprehensible framework. The Great Thought wondered if they had ever wanted to coexist or if they had been planning treachery all along. Based on human history, they suspected the latter.

  Even with the extensive research into the humans and their culture, they were still a mystery. If it was resources they wanted, the Entho-la-ah-mines had offered them freely. They had done everything possible to assist the humans. The Great Thought decided the best hypothesis was simply that humans didn't understand how to share or co-exist with another intelligent life form. They seemed to even have a hard time just co-existing with each other.

  Millions of Entho-la-ah-mines had been slaughtered over the past few years, the aftershocks of which would reach many generations into the future. Until recently, this xenocidal extermination had gone unchecked, and a feeling of hopelessness pervaded the Great Thought. Now, things were changing.

  Although a peaceful species, the Entho-la-ah-mine self-preservation instinct rivaled humankind’s. The group knew it was strong, but wasn't perverted and misused in the human way. Once their existence had been threatened, the Entho-la-ah-mines began developing defensive military hardware and a small amount of tactical weaponry. Cazz-ak’s group relived the joy of the first time one of their ships withstood an Ashamine attack. The enemy vessel had been small, but that was tremendous progress.

  The Entho-la-ah-mines took no joy or pride in their newfound combat prowess. The entire species mourned the loss of any life—including that of their enemies—no matter how many of their kind were slaughtered. Killing went against the nature of their species, but the humans had forced them.

  Coming to the present, the group saw several Entho-la-ah-mine ships causing destruction and death amongst the humans on Haak-ah-tar. They were trying to create a distraction, one that would keep the humans from coming after those on the surface. Hopefully, when it was time for the Entho-la-ah-mines to once again withdraw from Haak-ah-tar, they wouldn't leave too much destruction behind. It was such a beautiful planet. It was home.

  “Cazz-ak-tak,” Elth-eo-lan thought, bringing Cazz-ak out of the group mind. “We are ready for the next part.” He realized the Remembrance was complete, the memories of the hive mind imprinted on Elth-eo-lan's ward.

  Elth-eo-lan, taking the place of the deceased Queen-to-be's mother, took the egg off her back and carefully cradled it. She stroked it with her forelegs, signaling the egg's occupant it was safe to hatch, that the time had come. A small crack formed in the surface as the infant pushed. Soon it grew, fracturing the iridescent green surface. A small head poked out, and in another moment, the egg broke in two. A small Entho-la-ah-mine stood before them. Everyone bowed, joy soaring in their hearts. The Queen-to-be wasn't able to communicate psionically yet, but she did wave her limbs in acknowledgement of their deference.

  With the hatching complete, all that remained was to allow the power of the Focus to bind the memories and responsibilities within the young Queen. Cazz-ak melded his thoughts with the group, their psionic force becoming one. They strengthened their connection to the Great Thought, allowing all Entho-la-ah-mines in the galaxy to see the event. Tapping into the Focus, they pushed the Remembrance into it. They brought the resulting energy out and directed it down towards the Queen-to-be. But something was wrong.

  A dark presence pushed at the edges of their psionic gathering, probing for weakness. They could feel it trying to snake its way in, a putrid energy seeking to corrupt and infect them all. Acting as one, the group pulled in strength from the Great Thought, building a shield around Elth-eo-lan and her ward. They flexed their mental abilities, pushing them to their limits. The corruption struck back, lashing at the mental barrier with staggering force. They held strong, locking their barrier together with even greater determination. After several more fierce attempts, the intruding energy vanished.

  The group kept the shield up for several minutes, nervous the attacker might return. We must continue. The queen must be brought forth if we are to have any hope of survival, the group thought. They cautiously lowered the shield, ready to raise it at the first sign of danger.

  Once again, they grasped the energy of the Focus and brought it down towards the Queen-to-be. They fused it inside her, binding psionic ability, memories, and the Great Thought connection to her mind. The group split its psyche back into individual states and Cazz-ak felt himself return to a mix of emotion.

  The Great Thought was excited, nervous, worried, and overjoyed. Cazz-ak felt the same and for the same reasons. There was great rejoicing and thanksgiving at the bringing forth of a new queen. The previous monarch had been killed by a surprise human attack on a previously hidden colony world. She had been young, and her loss was devastating. This young—almost too young—successor had been the only candidate available to take her place, and the odds of getting her into this cave safely had been bad. But Cazz-ak and his crew had overcome all obstacles. He was truly happy.

  Even with the new queen a reality, Cazz-ak-tak was not at ease. There was still so much that could go wrong. What if the humans dispatched more ships to Haak-ah-tar or destroyed the Entho-la-ah-mine diversion? They might be able to sneak out using the psionic trick, but that worried Cazz-ak. There was too much at stake. He would try his best, and he knew every Entho-la-ah-mine would lay down their lives for the new Queen, just as he would if it were required. The Queen, now consecrated and psionically enabled, was no safer than her mother had been. Cazz-ak just hoped more human ships didn't arrive before they could escape.

  And what about the dark energy that assaulted us earlier? Cazz-ak worried. It wanted to corrupt the Queen . We barely stopped it. What if it had gotten through? It had to be connected to whatever assaulted them on the Way. We can't fight another enemy, especially not one that is so psionically powerful. We are doing all we can just to survive the humans...

  23 - Wake

  Wake’s hands trembled as he thought about his future. Someone in the Ashamine had set him up, and now they were about to execute him. He felt his mind falling into a black hole, accelerating, spinning, and tumbling through a multitude of subjects. What is this Brotherhood of Azak-so? he wondered. Were they trying to help or hurt me? What do I do now? What can I do now?

  After his trial, the military police escorted him to the ASN Antadroga, a Rubicon class ship. Although he knew his life was about to end, Wake could not help but be amazed by its vastness. His previous space travel experiences had consisted of small transport vessels. And that newly completed ship everyone is talking about, the ASN Founder's Hammer, is supposed to dwarf the Antadroga. Wake shook his head. He could hardly believe it.

  The hatch to his cabin opened and Wake looked up as a large marine stepped in. “Come with me,” the stone faced man commanded, motioning Wake towards the door. He followed the guard, taking calm, measured steps. Keeping himself under rigid control was his only hope of staying calm. They entered a lift and it shot up several levels to the main deck.

  Exiting into a large, open area, Wake immediately noticed the crimson colored environmental nominizing suit displayed in the middle of the command deck. It was the universal symbol of the damned. Everyone who knew anything about the Ashamine had heard of this suit. Wake couldn't take his eyes off it. It possess
ed a captivating beauty, making his eyes follow its angular segments and graceful curves. He had never seen a suit like it.

  “I see you've noticed your ENS,” a deep, gruff voice said. Wake pulled his eyes from the execution apparatus and turned to face Separate Yaladon, commander of the Antadroga. He was a short, stout man with close-cropped gray hair. He faced Wake squarely, looking up at him with a stern expression. “I won't make this any harder than is necessary. I'm here to do the will of the Ashamine, not torture you. Within the constraints of my orders, I will try to make this as quick and painless as possible.” He turned to face his subordinate officers, standing at attention across the command deck. “The ceremony shall now begin. Wake Darmekus, formerly of the Engineering and Building Division, censured by the Lower-Elders of the Ashamine for the malefactions of delinquency of duties, disregard for safety, and the murder of twelve colonists on the planet Traynos-6, please don the Clothing of the Iconoclast.”

  Wake remained silent, nodding his thanks to the Separate for his consideration. It was the closest thing to kindness he had received during this whole ordeal. He walked over to the suit, heart pounding so hard it made his chest hurt.

  As he approached, he continued to marvel at the ENS's beauty. Silver scroll work, intricately detailed, drew the eye and contrasted beautifully with the deep crimson color. The suit appeared ancient, yet its uniqueness made it look almost futuristic.

  After a brief study, Wake began donning the Clothing. Soon, all that remained was the helmet. The suit felt elegant, and Wake wished he could see himself in it. He turned to face Separate Yaladon. Once he’d made eye contact, he pulled the helmet over his head and sealed it.

  “Wake Darmekus,” the Separate's voice said over the suit's comm, “the Clothing of the Iconoclast has been used to execute all those who’ve turned traitor to the Ashamine or committed crimes of great magnitude against its people. You will be sent through the airlock of this ship and set adrift in the void. Contemplate your crimes, but do so quickly, because your oxygen will only last so long. Once your life expires, we will dispatch your body to roam the galaxy as a witness of your crimes.” After a brief pause, the Separate pointed towards a large, circular door. “Enter the airlock.”

  Wake looked down at his ENS clad feet, motionless, immobile. He couldn't force himself to move. Panic flooded his mind, and he knew at any moment he would lose control and try to escape. A sudden jab in the back propelled him forward. Wake barely managed to keep himself from falling. He looked back in time to see one of the guards resume his rigid stance.

  “Enlightened Alexhion, stand down!” Yaladon's voice was hard as tungsten. Alexhion made no further movement, but also showed no remorse. Yaladon was obviously on the verge of taking further action. Instead, he escorted Wake to the airlock’s threshold. Wake continued into the chamber alone. The airlock's bright lights caused the ENS's crimson finish to glow, the silver scroll work shining brightly. Wake wondered absent-mindedly how many people had worn this suit and taken the one-way trip through an airlock.

  “Turn,” Yaladon's gruff voice intoned. Wake did so, stopping midway into the airlock's deep expanse. “Watch Captain, seal the inner doors.” Even as spoke, the heavy panels began moving silently, sliding in from each corner with a circular motion.

  A clanging sound resounded through Wake as the corners met. The finality made him shudder. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. Some people claimed images of your life swam before your eyes as you died, but all Wake saw was the gray finish of the surrounding walls. Maybe I'm not dead enough yet, he thought, the morbid humor making him smile.

  The little levity he’d built up vanished as the outer doors opened. They hadn’t equalized the airlock so the blast of escaping atmosphere would force him out. No chance they were gonna let me hide in there while I die. They want to see it. They’re probably recording everything. He found the thought revolting, not because it was his own death, but because it would probably be streamed across the network. Recording it for evidence was one thing, but letting people watch for pleasure was quite another.

  The hemorrhaging air violently propelled his body into the void. He was weightless, with a slight spinning rotation. This wasn't his first experience with zero-g, but every time caused him to marvel at how he could think of any direction as “up”. Wake looked around, seeing the beauty of this remote sector of Ashamine space. Stars were everywhere, bright points of light in the vast blackness. The Antadroga was backlit by a giant nebula, making the human ship look tiny.

  As the vessel grew smaller and smaller, the majesty of the nebula increased. A few minutes passed, then Wake felt gravity tug on his side facing the Antadroga, stopping his spin. The ship is focusing its gravity-mass beam on me. It was a strange sensation, having a gravitic pull only on his chest. That area became “down,” but he had a hard time shifting perspective since it only effected his core.

  When Wake was within some predetermined distance, they stopped manipulating him. Now the waiting began. He knew it was important to breathe slowly to maximize his remaining time.

  Earlier, he had been frightened into paralysis, but now he grew progressively calmer. This was contrary to logic, but felt right. Perhaps I’m learning to control my emotions better.

  Thoughts of his parents floated through his mind. It still pained Wake that they couldn't accept his decision to join the EBD, that they no longer talked to him or even acknowledged his existence. I can’t change any of that now.

  The more he thought of his parents, the more he despaired, regretting how things were going to end with them. Upon hearing the news, they would think him a traitor. His parents would trust the Ashamine. No doubt would linger in their minds.

  Anger sparked within him for their absolute belief. If Wake's experience was any indicator, the government was corrupt and manipulative. He wished he could have seen this sooner, had been able to fight it. Who am I kidding, he thought, I couldn't even win my own trial.

  Wake had been so devoted to the Ashamine. Seeing his efforts wasted on such an unworthy cause made him sick. In the next instant, he decided he would be better off leaving this world and its greedy, deceitful inhabitants. Death would bring nothingness, a true void the deep shadow he floated in now could only poorly imitate. Wake welcomed the darkness, the eternal nonexistence comforting him. The longer he floated, both in his agony and in the void, the more he realized that maybe the Ashamine were doing him a favor.

  Wake had no illusions of a blissful afterlife. Those peaceful, happy images were a luxury only those such as the Dygars and other cults had the benefit of. Even the Ashamine used the promise an afterlife to promote the state religion.

  Between that thought and the next, Wake’s atmosphere ran out. It was there one moment and gone the next. There was nothing to breath in, nothing at all. Wake’s chest struggled to draw in oxygen, but the result was a jerking spasm that made panic flood his body. He fought to remain calm, to keep his mind focused, but he knew it made no difference.

  As his body struggled to breathe, Wake’s mind calculated how much longer he had to live. Two minutes, max, he decided. What to do, what to do, what to do? He found no viable answer. Now that he’d begun dying, it was unacceptable and his body clung desperately to its spark.

  Black spots formed across his vision, like little splotches of oil floating on water. As time passed, the blots converged, forming a large mass. “Hold on Wake,” sounded somewhere in his head. “We're trying to get you, but this Ashamine ship is making it blightheartedly difficult.” The noise was a buzzing in his ear. He couldn’t understand it.

  The urge to take off his helmet grew in Wake's mind. He knew it was crazy. The void is worse than what I’m already experiencing! As precious seconds ticked away, the idea grew more and more compulsive, however. His hands rose towards the release controls around the neck of the suit, but he forced them down.

  Wake vaguely noticed the Ashamine ship rapidly accelerating away from him. The buzzing continu
ed in his ears, but was growing faint. He once again raised his hands towards the helmet controls. There has to be air outside! It was that simple. He had been stupid to wait so long, had almost killed himself being stubborn. In just a moment, the refreshing air would fill his lungs, purging the consuming burn.

  But Wake couldn't seem to work the fittings. He cursed, dimly wondering why his fingers were so sluggish and far away. Finally, after several long moments, he found the controls and began operating them.

  As the helmet flew off, Wake was blinded by bright lights, his body experiencing a tremendous acceleration. The punishing g-force lasted a few seconds and vanished. Whaaa, Wake thought dazedly, unable to understand what had happened. Once his eyes adjusted, he realized he was laying on the floor of a cargo hold. Magnetic deceleration, he thought, explaining the earlier g-force. His whole body felt bruised and breathing caused a stab of pain in his rib cage.

  The joy of the atmosphere filling his lungs eased his discomfort. Wake welcomed the stale air of the cargo hold, drawing it deeply. It tasted so sweet. After a minute, he managed to rise to his hands and knees.

  A man strode into the cargo bay as Wake got unsteadily to his feet. Both men stared at each other for a moment. The newcomer broke the silence, voice echoing hollowly off the metal walls. “Sir Darmekus, we are happy we got to you in time. Good thing we surprised that blighthearted Ashamine ship.” The man spoke rapidly, but Wake understood. “We are still not safe and I'm quite sure they will bring their big guns down on us as soon as we are within range. Captain Malesis is an amazing commander and pilot, but I fear this situation will push him past his limits.” The man smiled and motioned Wake to follow. “We'll do our best, as that is all we ever can do. Come with me. We must move fast and get strapped in before the shooting starts.”