A Dark Oceans Descent: (Heridian Saga, Book 1)

by Darryl J. W. Temple

  'A link, you say,' said the Khan as he eyed the Heridian flagship hologram that now replaced the golden ship, and stroked his dark beard.

  Draethus could see the curiosity in his eyes and knew he had struck the interest needed. 'The Link is the gateway to their home-world, the path to Heridia.'

  There were gasps from Zekhal and some guards called in after Spect's unexpected stunt. The pirates had been fighting the Heridians for generations, with no proof of a Heridian home-world.

  'So why Tiberous?' Zekhal asked, throwing his hand up in the air. 'Is the link to Heridia there?'

  Draethus stared him in the eye, 'It's a possibility. Before the Rid flagship translocated, a Heridian leader going by the name Servatus, sent me an invitation to duel, one on one.'

  'A duel? Why would he want to duel you?' Zekhal was getting agitated.

  Spect waved his hand at the floating metal ball as Draethus dropped what he thought might break the negotiations.

  'Servatus, before becoming a Heridian, was once a Soldier of the Void, like myself. He and I were friends, and he feels he has a score to settle. If we win, he will give us the co-ordinates to the link we seek.'

  'And if we lose?' the Khan asked.

  'If we lose, the Rids get the ship and the time-shifting device inside it.'

  A smile reached the corner of Spect's cheek at hearing his new word was catching on.

  'The Heridian leaders can only traverse the Link in rare circumstances,' Draethus continued. 'If they have access to the time device, they can escape and even call on reinforcements from any space-time period. They will be unstoppable, with access to any place and an infinite number of forces.'

  Raeson, after quietly listening, stepped forward. 'How do we know this isn't just your personal vendetta against your old friend?'

  Spect waved his hand again at his floating ball. The image of Servatus appeared to loom over the meeting and he set the message to play. Draethus wondered if the pirates had even seen a Heridian up close after seeing the look of terror on their faces.

  The fearful message finished after a few minutes and the Khan walked to the edge of the higher tier. 'This could of course be a trap, leading you to Tiberous, although it gives us an opportunity as we know where they are going to be. But if this is indeed an invitation that may lead to the co-ordinates of the link and therefore Heridia, I will take that chance.'

  A wave of relief flooded over Draethus and his crew, but the Commander reeled himself back in as there was still a lot of work ahead.

  'Your ship, Commander Draethus,' the Khan announced, 'cannot however fall in the hands of the Heridian forces, even if you are to lose the duel. Therefore, I will send an escort of pirate vessels, who will be there for your safety. They will also be your ship's executioner if you lose to this Servatus filth.'

  Upon hearing the Khans words, Draethus felt a fear deep in the pit of his stomach, although he knew the pirate was right. The Heridians could not under any circumstances gain access to the vessel, and the pirates as well.

  The Khan continued. 'I will also send Raeson with you; he will report directly to me and have full access to the ship. Slin will command the Arvernus in his stead and be part of the escort.'

  Slin's ears tweaked at the new promotion.

  'So you will show us the way to Tiberous, good, and I thank you, Khan,' Draethus said with a slight bow of the head. 'And when we find this pathway to Heridia, you will take the fight to them?'

  The Khan smiled for the first time during the meeting. 'When we find their home-world, the Rids will burn and they will never again plague our skies.'

  *

  The conference doors opened as Draethus and his crew exited the meeting, followed by the pirate guards' whose role it was to escort them back to the Eclipse. Rel, who had been waiting patiently by the doors, sprang out. 'Raeson? Where's Raeson?'

  The guards ignored her and kept walking; Draethus however paused as the girl ran up to him.

  'Is he back in there?' she asked as she tried to glimpse the meeting room through the now closing doors.

  'He was, but left with the rest of the pirate leaders, is my guess,' Draethus said, trying to hide the surprised look in his eyes, 'and who might you be?'

  Rel paused; embarrassed that she hadn't introduced herself. 'I'm Rel, the resident fighter mechanic around here, one of anyway.'

  'Well Rel, I am Arcilous Draethus, Commander of the Dawn Eclipse.'

  Tremon made a coughing sound, as if he was trying to clear his throat, which snapped Draethus out of his daze.

  'Oh… um… This is my crew, Tremon and Spect.' Draethus responded.

  The two crew members waved. Tremon grinned at his commander before they started walking again.

  'Well, I was going to give this to Raeson, but he's hard to get hold of sometimes, so…' Rel handed Draethus a purple flower, looked down and blushed. 'It was nice to meet you, Arcilous Draethus; I hope we can meet again.' She stood there for a moment as the two of them smiled before deciding that running off was in order.

  Draethus watched her leave and caught up with the rest of the group.

  'So…' started Tremon.

  'I don't want to hear it,' Draethus replied, red faced.

  Spect, after watching the entire encounter, had a puzzled look on his face.

  'Don't worry, Spect,' Tremon smiled, 'you might understand, one day.'

  As the group entered the elevator, Draethus noticed movement back in the direction they came. A dark shadow was exiting the conference area, almost drifting.

  Is that a Specter? Draethus thought to himself. Curiosity, surprise, nervousness and fear enveloped him. This feeling… is this the shadow? He thought again before he smiled, or Rel?

  CHAPTER 14.

  Innominate Deeds.

  Darkness with a full sense of everything, all that occurred and the probability of what will occur. The Lords of Heridia knew every thought, sensation, molecule, feeling and conversation on their world. Two Heridian soldiers mined a fallen rock on the plains of nothingness, an insect walked across a dead carcass under its blood oceans, and the minds of the Lords were present.

  The crimson world they lived sat suspended, locked in place and imprisoned because of a long ago war. Black clouds drifted, emptying their contents of acidic rain onto the barren wastelands across its surface. The oceans of blood, thousands of years of collection from other species, covered a third of its surface, home to a variety of monstrous creatures.

  As the centerpiece of this menacing world was a city, a massive construct built with the same materials as the Heridian space faring vessels. It housed the many thousands of soldiers that were the world's protectors, a force capable enough to defend it from the ground. In the middle of the city, stretching high into the dark clouds, was the Heridian spire and the central command. The structure resembled an enormous spear thrust into the ground as it protruded into the atmosphere of the planet. Hidden at the base of the spire, deep underground and connected to the planet's core, lay the physical bodies of the Lords themselves. It was from here they plotted for their freedom, and the rest of the Heridian race.

  Heridia existed in a pocket disconnected from normal spacetime, trapped and the only exit; a link that had opened briefly many millennia ago. The Lords took this opportunity to send their ships out and continue their plans of genocide against all opposing races. This gateway however had never opened since that day and the Lords, if their plan was successful, would gain enough control to open and close it at will.

  The three Lords, all of which melded into the spire, were motionless in the darkness of their self-containment. Being linked to the spire meant the communication between them was digital in the Heridian language rather than outwardly vocal.

  Third Lord: Initiate conversation, subject is the ongoing plans to gain access to the surrounding space.

  Fifth Lord: Last reports our main fleet has engaged the pirates and is pursuing with outstanding success. Our flagship almost recovered a time d
evice thanks to Servatus and created a breach in space proving a partial validity of the device.

  Fourth Lord: Servatus lost us this opportunity because of his personal vendetta against a combatant. Suggest purging it from our lines and redirecting responsibility to another.

  Third Lord: Noted, however, we should communicate with Servatus to discover any plans currently in motion.

  Fifth Lord: Agreed.

  Fourth Lord: Agreed, under caution, not to be overconfident with its abilities.

  Fifth Lord: If Servatus fails?

  Fourth Lord: Purge him.

  Third Lord: Agreed, however, we do not have another protagonist placed so well. Connecting with the array…

  From the light of an unspecified, unimportant nebula, an abandoned array station sat motionless, forgotten by time and its creators. The giant antenna stretched for kilometres and attached to an extensive structure that resembled a cluster of asteroids. To someone searching, it would be hard to spot even from inside the nebula. The array pulsed and drew in the swirling particles from the surrounding anomaly, charging the antenna with exotic matter. It was only by chance the Heridian race found the array during its quick exodus through the link and discovered they could use it to communicate with their home-world. Through the use of quantum entanglement powered by the strange matter of the nebula, a probable reason for its location, Heridians could communicate with the spire. The edges of the spire back on Heridia illuminated with a bright white that caused static in the surrounding air, charged particles that crackled and sparked.

  Third Lord: Connection to the array established, locating Servatus…

  The image in the mind's eye of the three Lords faded from black to the face of Servatus, the Heridian leader tasked with capturing the displacement device.

  'My Lords,' Servatus growled with a slight bow of the head. 'You wish for an update on my mission?'

  The Fourth Lord, who had never been an advocate of the leader tasked with their escape, spoke first. 'Have you captured the Dawn Eclipse yet, grunt?'

  A flash of anger crossed Servatus' face, 'Plans are in place, my Lords. I have divulged the rendezvous coordinates to the Eclipses' Commander, and a duel issued.'

  'Duel?' the Third Lord said in surprise.

  The Fifth Lord interrupted, 'Why would the Commander accept a duel when he knows for certain it would be a trap?'

  Servatus smiled and said, 'I've offered the co-ordinates to the link as a reward for defeating me, along with the death of his friend's mind inside me of course.'

  'So you have created a situation where you win, you gain control of the ship, if you lose he brings the ship to us?' the Third Lord asked.

  'Correct my lords,' Servatus replied.

  The Fourth Lord was not so understanding. 'When this Commander loses, his crew will not just hand the ship over, they will have precautions in place as they possibly know our motives for its capture. You should lose the duel and sacrifice yourself so that it will lead the ship here.'

  Servatus paused for a moment and considered the options, 'If I am required, so be it, however I am confident that even with the duel won I will capture that ship.'

  'We will purge you if failed,' the Fifth Lord warned. 'Let nothing stop you.'

  *

  The night life aboard the pirate flagship, the Wing of Vidar, although it was always night in the void, was a constant buzz of drunken activity. Though the pirates were a more military force because of the war against the Heridians, their old ways of drunken behaviour remained while off duty. Various clubs and bars littered the city sized vessel with entire areas dedicated to the social life the enormous crew needed. One such bar, the Junkers Retreat, positioned on a long section of such establishments and was popular because of its no ranks, no rules policy.

  'I don't know about this,' Spect said, as he sauntered through the front doors.

  A fight was taking place in a far corner between officers and non-ranked pirates, the officers weren't winning.

  Slin slapped the scientist on the shoulder and pulled him along, 'You'll be fine, my friend, come, lets drink!'

  The two men, followed by Slin's lover Nash and the ex-Paladin Tremon, wound their way through the crowd and sat at the head of the bar.

  'Tender!' Slin yelled, 'My friend here and I will have some Sludge to calm his nerves.'

  The bar man, a huge half breed of Human and Elismorus, covered in tattoos, reached up and grabbed a dark bottle.

  'And the lady?' the Tender asked.

  'No, this is Tremon, he's…' Slin laughed painfully as Nash punched him in the back.

  'Don't mind him,' Nash said, smiling to Tremon before answering the Tender herself, 'Just Spirit Jack for me, Keeper.'

  Tremon, now finally in the mood to relax, refused to give in. 'Try not to spill any of that on your arms, Slin, you might blow a circuit.'

  Slin laughed again as he put the glass of green alcohol into Spect's hand, 'You like to explore and experiment, right?'

  The scientist hesitated before knocking the whole thing back in one go.

  'Maybe you should take it easy on that,' said Tremon, smiling. 'Tender, what's that on the wall?'

  The Tender grinned, evilly, and pulled down the long glass bottle shaped like a reptile head. 'This comes from the fermented brain of the swamp creatures that live on one of the trade worlds. It's called Fang; you have the stomach for it?'

  Slin gestured cut off signs with his hand against his neck showing it wasn't a good idea. Tremon, never the one to back down, wasn't going to.

  'Pour me one, let's go, all of this is on Slin's tab by the way.'

  He sipped the black liquid out of the special skull glass given to those who dare try the drink. 'What a kick!' Tremon yelled. 'I think I found my drink of the night.'

  The music blared as the fight from earlier spewed out onto the street, joined by more bipeds outside.

  'Is it always like this here?' Spect asked.

  Nash reset herself on the bar stool, 'Of course! Best way to blow off steam, other than killing Rids, that is. There are places like this all over the ship as people need a place to relax when they aren't on duty.'

  'And the Junkers Retreat? Weird name, where's it from?' Tremon asked, trying to hide the effect the Fang was having on him. A small line of drool escaped the corner of his lips.

  Slin raised his glass to the Tender, who was listening in. 'The Junkers was a salvage ship that took us ages to hunt and chase down, like ages. Whenever we got close it would retreat, hence the name.'

  The bar man smiled to himself as he quietly cleaned the glasses.

  'So what's your story Tremon, how did you end up with that commander of yours?' Nash asked.

  Tremon, now slurring, knocked the rest of the Fang back and signalled the Tender to pour another. 'I grew up in the gangs on my world, on Echelon.'

  'A ganger, how interesting,' Slin said.

  'Well, it's a longer story,' Tremon continued, 'but the short version is I helped take back some territory, which is when the Paladins recruited me. They're the soldiers who protected the planet. Years later I captured Draethus.'

  'You captured the man that's now your commander,' Slin laughed.

  'That's right,' Tremon smiled, 'then got mixed up in this war.'

  'So noble,' Nash laughed. 'What about you, Spect?'

  Spect, after four drinks of what Slin referred to as Sludge, was not so coherent. 'I grew up on the Sky-Station, like to take things apart, and hate small lizards that mess with my stuff.'

  The other three watched as he slumped over the bar and started murmuring, much to the group's amusement.

  'And the two of you, what's your story, how did you meet Raeson?' Tremon asked.

  Slin jumped out of his chair, threw his arms into the air as he prepared to make a giant speech only to have Nash get hold of him, keeping him grounded.

  'Where do I start?' Slin yelled, giving Nash a kiss on the cheek. 'My life started when I met this fine woman.'

 
Nash flushed a bright shade of scarlet, 'You suck up,' she giggled, 'answer his question.'

  Slin, now a drunken pirate with his guard down, started. 'I was a prisoner on a forsaken planet, got free and became a pirate, the end.'

  'So modest,' Nash added then said, 'I was a trader before being forced to join… this bunch of degenerates.'

  'So the pirates recruit from everywhere, you're not just born amongst them?' asked the ex ganger turned Paladin.

  'That's right,' said Nash, 'but there are many people that are born here, like Raeson, for instance.'

  She threw back more of her drink. 'Now his story is long, but I will say this. Never cross him. His father was a traitor to the pirates, so he has a lot to prove. That is one commander that won't hesitate to space you out the nearest airlock. He has a dark personality, that's for sure, but he is loyal to the fleet. Stay honorable and you won't have any problem.'

  Spect sat up for a moment, 'What about that scary bearded leader of yours, the Khan, what makes him so important?'

  'The Khan you say?' Slin exclaimed, completely uncaring to how loud he was being. 'Now that's a story, let me see,' he leaned back against the bar. 'On the day the Rids hit us, the all mighty Cygnian Pirates, we lost our chain of command. All the Pirate lords died in one sweep, the largest of our capital ships destroyed. Years later, Hayreddin and his small frigate unified us. Under his command we recruited the neighbouring military, that we used to fight against by the way and won our first battle against the Rids.' Slin felt like the storyteller of the hour. 'They elected him Khan not long after, and he even found the Wing of Vidar himself, although it had another name originally. In short, the man is one scary bad arse leader that has all our interests in mind, hates the Rids more than anyone.'

  Slin sat back on his stool as the Tender refilled his glass. 'Just water for this one here for a while,' he said as he patted Spect on the back. 'They assigned Nash, Tektar and I to Raeson because we were troublemakers. Not being very well liked by the fleet meant Raeson inherited all the scum, so to speak.'