Dark Space- The Complete Series

by Jasper T. Scott

  “Yes . . .”

  “You know, Captain, you and I have a lot in common.”

  “I fail to see how.”

  Adram turned back to the viewport. “We were both sent to the Getties to explore . . . both of us came back decorated heroes . . . and both of us realized that the orders we were following had ultimately come from a traitor. The difference is you’ve already replaced your commander in chief.”

  “You’re treading on very dangerous ground, Adram.”

  “I know,” he said quietly. “But I have no choice.”

  Caldin shook her head. “For your sake I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear any of that. You need to get your head straight, Crossid,” she said, deliberately using his first name to make him realize that he’d lost her respect.

  “What if I told you that the admiral killed hundreds of loyal officers in a calculated maneuver that he unilaterally decided was for the common good?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “It would be better if I showed you.”

  Caldin frowned and watched Adram walk across the deck to the captain’s table. She followed him there, her steps hesitant, her thoughts apprehensive. By the time she got there, Adram had already found whatever it was he was looking for. He stabbed a key on the holographic display, and a video sprang to life, shimmering in the air above the captain’s table. It showed a view from the simulated dome of the Interloper’s bridge—an unobstructed view of Obsidian Station. Caldin’s stomach began churning with dread as she watched the alien cruiser draw near to the station. Then, without warning, it opened fire. Hundreds of shining purple stars spun out toward the station, impacting moments later in an endless, fiery rain. Glowing holes appeared in the sides of the station and chunks of it went spinning off into space. By the time the log recording was over, Caldin’s legs were shaking, but whether from fear or fury, she couldn’t yet tell.

  Adram turned to her with a grim expression. “Now you understand my insubordinate attitude. I was forced to carry out this execution, Caldin, and their deaths will never stop haunting me.”

  Caldin shook her head. She didn’t have to wonder anymore whether she shook from fear or anger. Her hands had clenched into white-knuckled fists. “Why?”

  “To get at Kaon. The overlord wouldn’t give him up willingly, so Admiral Heston decided to take him by force, but of course he couldn’t leave any witnesses. . . .”

  Caldin gritted her teeth and took several deep breaths to calm herself. When she could finally speak once more, she said, “Put this up on the main holo display, Adram. The rest of my crew needs to see it.”

  Chapter 24

  “I told you both already, I’m not a monster,” Hoff said. “I did order the Interloper to attack Obsidian Station, but not before her crew was put into stasis and safely locked away aboard the Interloper. I had Captain Adram transfer them to the Destine before we left. They should be arriving at the enclave as we speak.”

  Atton breathed a sigh of relief. “Then why would you destroy the station? You could have just taken Kaon.”

  “At the time you were still in power, acting as the supreme overlord of the Imperium. Kaon was in your hands, and I couldn’t steal him and take your people hostage. The simplest solution was to make it look like a Sythian attack.”

  “What’s going to happen to the survivors?”

  “The same as what happens to all of our refugees. They’ll start rebuilding on a colony world of their choice. They’re the lucky ones, Atton. Don’t feel bad for them.”

  “What about us?” Destra asked.

  “What about you?”

  “You said we have a choice—join you or forget.”

  “The forgetting is painless, and it’s not as invasive or sloppy as the slave chips you’re used to. You’ll never even know that you’ve been made to forget.”

  Destra shook her head. “I’m not sure I can go back to the lies, Hoff.”

  “I’ll hide them better this time.”

  “No.”

  “So you want to join me?” he asked, sounding surprised.

  “I’m not sure about that either.”

  “Then . . .”

  “I may need to be on my own from now on.”

  Hoff winced and took a step toward his wife. She took a step back. “Des, I’m the same man I’ve always been. . . .”

  “I understand that, but . . . there isn’t a third option? You can’t trust me to keep your secret without becoming like you?”

  Hoff started to say something, but he stopped himself and simply shook his head.

  “Right, I forgot—trust no one.” Destra looked away, grimacing with disgust.

  “What about you, Atton?” Hoff asked.

  “I don’t believe what you’re doing is even possible.”

  “You’d be surprised what’s possible, but even if you’re determined to stand by the philosophical objection that people have a soul, you still have to admit to the societal benefits. Imagine your clones are like children, except that whether or not those children squander your good instruction and their inheritance is entirely under your control.”

  Atton ran a hand through his dark hair. “I need some time to think, too.”

  “Very well. You have until we retake the Valiant to make up your minds.”

  “What are you going to do with us until then?” Destra asked.

  “You’ll be locked in our quarters, under house arrest.”

  Destra smiled. “Generous of you.”

  “Of course your access to comms will be restricted.”

  “Of course,” Atton replied with a sarcastic twitch of his lips.

  “Come. We had better go. They’re waiting for me on the bridge.” Hoff turned and started back toward the lift tube. Atton followed at a distance, walking beside his mother.

  “I never imagined this was what Hoff was hiding,” Destra whispered. “You were right, Atton. I should have found out about this a long, long time ago.”

  “Love blinds us,” he whispered back.

  His mother smiled up at him. “You’re 17—what do you know about love? Don’t tell me you have someone waiting for you in Dark Space.”

  Atton looked away, uncomfortable with the change of topic. “You don’t get to meet a lot of girls when you’re wearing a holoskin and looking like a 98 year-old man.”

  “Hmmm . . . no, I suppose you wouldn’t.”

  As they followed Admiral Heston into the lift, something occurred to Atton and he asked, “What did you send Commander Donali to do?”

  “That’s classified.”

  “You’re about to make me forget all of this, Hoff. What’s one more memory to suppress?”

  The admiral glanced at him. “I gave him a Sythian tracking device.”

  “A what?”

  “It was cloaked in Kaon’s brain all this time,” Hoff said as he keyed the lift tube to rise up to the deck forty eight.

  “The Gors didn’t betray us, did they?”

  “It would appear I was wrong.”

  Atton blinked. “Ritan?”

  Hoff shook his head.

  “Frek it, Admiral!” Atton slammed the side of the lift tube with his fist. “What have you done?”

  “Just because Kaon was responsible for the communications we detected, doesn’t mean that the Gors are trustworthy.”

  “Well, it doesn’t matter anymore, does it? You’ve declared war on them!”

  “You have to be at peace in order to declare war. I just cleared up the confusion for everyone.” The lift arrived and Hoff walked out into the secret passage leading to the maze in his backyard. “By the way, I’ve deactivated the lift,” he called out as he went. “Just in case either of you were thinking of going back to poke around some more.”

  Atton scowled and whispered, “Hoff’s a whole other level of frekked up.”

  He felt his mother’s hand on his shoulder. “Come on, let’s go.”

  “This is the man who’s going to be in charge of
Dark Space? I can’t let that happen.”

  “It might be too late to worry about who’s going to be in charge of Dark Space,” Destra said. “If the Sythian was implanted with a tracking device, and Donali is just taking it off the ship now . . . we’re already at the entrance of Dark Space, Atton,” she said. “You know what that means.”

  Atton blinked, stupefied. He hadn’t even thought of that. “I’m going to kill him!” He raced out after the admiral. “Get back here you motherfrekker!”

  “Atton!” Destra called after him, but he wouldn’t stop.

  Everything he’d ever known was about to be torn away—again—and the man to blame for that was walking blithely away, as if he’d done nothing wrong. A quote from an old classic came to mind as Atton ran: Justice is red, and it drips from our hands.

  * * *

  Ethan stood still and quiet, staring out into space. His finger traced a line of grease across the room’s only viewport, a small porthole which looked out at space. With his naked eye he could see dozens of bright blue contrails periodically flaring against the shimmering backdrop of stars. Whole squadrons twisted and turned in unison, their hulls glinting in the Firean System’s pale red sun. Destroyers and cruisers drifted slowly, their lights glittering in the dark as they checked the minefields and the ring of SLS interrupter buoys which Brondi had stolen from the treacherous Chorlis-Firean jump lane. Nothing had been left to chance. Petty and skriffy though he was, Brondi was a surprisingly astute tactician. He knew exactly how to set up his defenses against an incoming fleet. Ethan only hoped that the admiral was equally skilled at outwitting those defenses. He turned with a sigh and found himself face to face with Alara’s bright violet gaze.

  “Is something bothering you?” she asked.

  Ethan sighed. “More than one something.”

  “Why don’t you come sit down and talk to me about it.” She gestured to the bed behind them.

  Ethan’s gaze flicked briefly to the bed and he hesitated. “Alara . . .”

  “Angel,” she purred.

  “Kiddie,” he decided. “Look—”

  She pressed her index finger to his lips. “Brondi has me all cooped up in here. No one is allowed to visit me. No one, that is, except for you. That means you have me all to yourself,” she said, eyeing him demurely before she grabbed his hand and placed it over her right breast. “What are you going to do about that?” she whispered.

  Ethan removed his hand quickly. “Damn it, Kiddie! Stop that.”

  She withdrew, looking startled. “What are you here for, then?”

  “Don’t you remember me at all? We used to fly together until Brondi captured us. He had you chipped because we couldn’t pay our debts, and I’ve been forced to work for him ever since.”

  She looked at him as though he might burst into flames at any minute. “If it makes you feel better to pretend you know me and that Brondi’s forcing you to frek me, I’ll go along with it. Good for your conscience I guess . . . Now I remember you, Ethan. I remember that I’ve always wanted you. Ever since the day we met. I’ve been just gagging for you to stick your—”

  “Enough!” Ethan boomed. He rubbed his tired eyes. He’d flown too many back to back patrols. “This is pointless,” he said, shaking his head in defeat. “Look—I don’t have long before I have to get back out there. Right now my squadron is busy eating what will probably be their last meal, and if it’s not, that means that Brondi won, and we’ll be in even bigger trouble.”

  “What are you trying to say? If you don’t have long, don’t worry, we can still have a good time.”

  “I’m sure we could,” Ethan said, offering a patient smile. “But I didn’t come here to have a good time. I came here to say goodbye.” He took a step toward her, and she gazed up at him with wide, curious eyes. Suddenly, he opened his arms and enfolded her in a crushing hug. “I’m going to miss you, Kiddie,” he whispered into her ear. He inhaled deeply, breathing in the soft, beguiling fragrance of her hair and skin until he began to feel his eyes burn and his throat constrict. He withdrew—

  And Alara gave him a resounding slap. “What is wrong with you? You come here, acting like you know me, turning me down over and over again—and all of that just to say goodbye? I don’t know who you think you are, or what you’re trying to do, but frek you, Ethan! It’s not funny. I’m a playgirl, and before that I was an orphan. You’re not supposed to care about either—you abandon the orphan and you use the playgirl when she asks you to so that she can pay her damn bills! What is wrong with you?” she repeated.

  Ethan gave her a small, bitter smile. “I don’t know. You’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking,” he said as he turned to leave.

  Alara stared after him in shock. “Hoi! You could at least frek me before you go!”

  Ethan turned as he reached the door. “I’m sorry for everything, Alara. If you ever wake up from this nightmare, know that I did everything I could.” He passed his wrist over the door scanner and it opened with a swish. Then he stepped out into the comparative brightness of the hallway, and the door promptly slid shut behind him. Ethan passed between the pair of Brondi’s guards who stood flanking the entrance to Alara’s room. They shot him knowing smiles, and one of them whistled and poked him in the ribs as he walked by. “Hoi, good bit of tail, isn’t she?”

  Ethan spun on his heel, his fists involuntarily clenching. “What do you know about that?” The man who’d spoken was short and squat with yellowing teeth and small, squinty eyes tucked into his round, pudgy face.

  “Don’t know nothin’ about it yet,” the man said with a shrug, “but Brondi said we might get a turn with her, if we do our jobs well and keep everyone else out. Looks like you must be in his good books. Got to go first, hoi? Come on, jus’ a few details. We’re dyin’ out here! I hear she’s eager to please.”

  Ethan clenched his teeth and counted to ten in his head. He imagined all the different ways he could kill the small, pudgy outlaw standing before him, but all of those scenarios ended with the other guard shooting him dead. Neither of these men seemed to know who Ethan was, but he reminded himself that he was wearing the uniform of a Lieutenant Commander, which meant he outranked both of them by several pay grades—assuming Brondi’s command structure was for more than just show. It was worth a shot. “I was just making sure neither of you skriffs laid a hand on her,” he said, shaking a finger in the guard’s face. “Brondi ordered me to castrate you both if you had.”

  The guard paled. “He said that? Shee that’s just krakkin’ sick! We’re not stupid, hoi—not gonna touch her until Brondi says, a’right? You can tell him I said that.”

  “Just be thankful you’ve been following your orders. Keep it up.” With that, Ethan turned and strode away. His comm piece began trilling a moment later. It was his XO, Gina—freshly chipped along with the rest of the Alephs to be good little outlaws. Now they all thought they were lowlifes without the slightest shred of decency. For all their artificially imposed flight training, they didn’t have the slightest shred of skill in a cockpit either. Ethan was exhausted by the façade of pretending to be their leader. “Hoi, LC,” Gina said. “Where the frek are you? We’re waitin’ in the hangar already. The squad’s gettin’ impatient. Another minute and they’re gonna start a dogfight in here.”

  “On my way,” he replied.

  “Ruh-kah!” she cheered. “Hurry up! We’ve had clearance for ten minutes.”

  “See you soon,” Ethan replied and then ended the call. Ruh-kah—death and glory. The old Rokan battle cry suddenly took on new meaning for Ethan. With his skill in the cockpit he had a good chance of living through the coming battle, regardless of who won, but he’d already made up his mind. He was done dancing to Brondi’s tune. He’d killed over 50,000 innocent men and women already by cooperating with Brondi, and he refused to kill any more—wittingly or not. The crime lord would soon be too busy to take it out on Alara, and with luck, the admiral would win the fight and rescue her. If not, it was j
ust as he’d told Alara—he’d done everything he could. Even if he did what Brondi wanted and killed as many Imperial pilots as he could, he couldn’t save her. Brondi would never let them go. It was all just a big game to him—he was like a rictan playing with a mouse—the more Ethan suffered, the more perverse enjoyment Brondi would get out of the game.

  Ethan shook his head. He was done. The only way to win a game that can’t be won is to stop playing.

  * * *

  Hoff heard Atton’s approach, but he didn’t turn. The boy’s clumsy footfalls were borne of impetuous fury, but even a calmer, more calculated approach never would have worked. Hoff already knew far more about hand-to-hand combat than any mortal would have had a chance to learn. And with all of that skill, he knew that sometimes the best move was also the simplest one. When Hoff judged that Atton was almost upon him, he deftly stepped aside and put out his foot.

  Atton went sprawling.

  Just as the boy tried to regain his footing, Hoff drew his sidearm and shot him in the back. Atton’s limbs jittered and he collapsed to the grassy floor of the maze.

  Destra came running up behind them, yelling, “Atton! Hoff, if you hurt him—”

  “Relax. It was set to stun. He’ll come around in an hour or two.”

  Destra went down on her haunches to check Atton’s pulse.

  Hoff didn’t have time to deal with this. Wordlessly, he turned and continued on. He heard his wife call after him, “You’re just going to leave him?”

  “Use your grav gun and bring him with you, or leave him there to sleep it off—I don’t care which.”

  Five minutes later, Destra caught up to him at the back door of their quarters. Atton hovered in the air before her. She looked furious, and out of breath. Hoff stepped up to the control panel and held the door open for her and Atton. She shot him a hateful scowl as she went inside.

  “Des,” he said, walking in behind her. “If you want to leave, I won’t stop you. You can take Atta now and go to the enclave. I’ll visit as often as I can.”

  She set Atton down in the hall and turned to him. Her expression softened somewhat. “I could stay with you, if you agree to leave my memory alone. No one would believe me if I told them, anyway.”