The Alorian Wars Box Set

by Drew Avera

  She placed the device alongside one of the shipping containers strapped to the deck, leaving it there, hidden enough to be out of sight and nothing more.

  Stepping off the ramp of the ship had the sense of finality to it once her feet touched the ground of the landing area. She curled her fingers into the “all clear” symbol her people used, holding the gesture in front of her body as she walked towards the hangar, ducking under the wings of other ships. She knew better than to walk right back to their secret location and instead opted to give her people time to gather their things and return to base while she cleared her head.

  “What am I going to do now?” She said out loud as she leaned against an older spacecraft, her hands gripping the airfoil as she let her body hang loosely to stretch her back.

  “I can try to speak with him, but he is a resolute man,” a voice.

  She turned her head to see Malikea standing solemnly behind her. “Are you following me?”

  “No, but I didn’t want things to end that way and for you to go back to your people without knowing there is someone on your side as a member of the crew of the Replicade.”

  “What about your captain? I don’t imagine he will like the fact you’re siding with his enemy.”

  Malikea sighed, clasping his arms in front of him as the bottom of his crimson robe danced along his ankles with the breeze. “I don’t think he sees you as his enemy, Gen. I think he sees a two-part opportunity to see peace on this world and for us on the ship. He agreed to help Princess Herma in order to provide us a place to live that wasn’t on the run from Greshian ships. Whether he believes she has the best intentions or not, I don’t know, but I do believe he wants to do the right thing.”

  “The right thing would be to stay out of a fight that doesn’t concern you,” Gen snapped, not meaning to lash out her anger on a man she thought could be a friend, but she had a hard time reining in her emotions.

  “I agree, but there’s only so much in our control. The right thing is a grey area in this case. Surely you can see that.”

  Gen scoffed angrily. “The only grey area is you, my friend. You can’t live on both sides of a war. You eventually have to choose.”

  The look on the man’s face made her take a second look. She saw confliction in his eyes and she recognized it in herself as well.

  “You make a good point, but I’ve seen enough of this galaxy to know the hard line in sand isn’t unmovable. I hope you’ll talk to your people and come to a peaceful resolution. I have to believe Brendle is a good man and is making the right decision.”

  “And if he isn’t?” Gen asked.

  Malikea didn’t speak, but the look in his eyes told her everything she needed to know.

  25

  Brendle

  “Before you say anything, I know I was out of line,” Brendle said as Malikea rounded the corner. The Lechun man made no sound when he walked, and if not for the dancing shadows along the bulkhead, Brendle would not have known he was coming.

  “I’m glad we both agree on that,” Malikea said, taking a seat across from Brendle. “Deis would probably ignore your request and keep driving the point home at how reckless your indignation for the Pilatians resistance is. He would tell you that your inability to be empathetic would cause us to alienate a people who could be our allies, but instead will be our enemies.”

  Brendle brushed his hair back with his hand as he exhaled. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

  “Would you?”

  “Look, I am empathetic to these people, but we have an opportunity to make peace and come out of this with a safe place to live, not threatened by the Empire’s destructive forces. Becoming a citizen again would make my life more bearable as well.”

  “How so?” Malikea asked. “What is unbearable about your life now? You’ve made no complaints about the path your life has taken until you spoke with Princess Herma. Are you a liar, pretending to be happy for all this time while secretly loathing us?”

  Brendle leaned forward. “Absolutely not, I love you guys, but I’m unable to reach out to my mother without putting her in danger. I’m labeled a traitor and that’s worse then being an enemy to the Greshian Empire. I’m sure you can understand not being able to speak to someone you love.”

  Malikea sat quietly and Brendle could tell he’d tugged at a heartstring. “I do understand that, but the risk to this crew seems excessive for such a small return. I don’t imagine Anki will be happy when the dust settles.”

  It was Malikea’s turn to manipulate the affairs of the heart.

  “No, she won’t,” Brendle admitted.

  “Yet you jump into this headlong instead of choosing a wholly diplomatic approach at bringing peace. Diplomacy at the end of a loaded gun is not delivering peace, but a threat.”

  Brendle sat back, contemplating his friend’s words. Coming up in the military he’d learned to follow the orders and requests of his superiors. Perhaps I fell into an old habit by accepting this job at face value, he thought. “I’ll discuss an alternative plan with Princess Herma the next time I see her.”

  “And if she is insistent on using us as a threat against these people?”

  Brendle didn’t know how to answer that question. “Maybe she will.”

  “Or, maybe you should reach out to the girl and apologize for your behavior and try to settle this without permission from the Greshian princess. We could go through the motions for no reason than to convince her that she has our support.”

  “A ruse?”

  “Yes.”

  “And what if the resistance wants nothing to do with it?”

  Malikea shrugged.

  “We would accept that offer as a peaceful resolution,” Gen said from the archway leading into the bridge, startling Brendle.

  “You came back?” His eyes darted back and forth between them.

  “I couldn’t let things end the way they did, Brendle. As your friend, I can’t sit idly by as you throw everything we’ve built together away.”

  Brendle looked down and saw his hand resting on the stock of his weapon, his first reaction to a life on the run being to shoot the perceived threat. Is that exactly what he had become; a threat? He removed his hand from the gun and looked back at Malikea. “You already have a plan in place?”

  Malikea nodded.

  “Then tell me about it.”

  Malikea adjusted his robe before scratching his chin. It was something Brendle noticed he often did when having to explain a plan that needed the details figured about someone else. Brendle knew Malikea had good foundations for ideas, but the mundane details that can cause a mission to succeed or fail were not his strong suit. “Princess Herma has assured us that we will be resupplied in a few days in exchange for our help. I suggest we spend that time planning our act with the resistance fighters and mock a surrender. We do everything the princess asked and come out the other side looking like heroes in her eyes, while forging an alliance with the resistance so no one has to fire a shot.”

  Brendle nodded. “It sounds simple enough, and I’m all for not having to pull a trigger on anyone, but what happens after all is said and done? If we choose to leave and the resistance begins to go against her once again then it opens us up against an attack by the Greshians for betraying her.”

  “But they won’t find out. Besides, we can proctor peace while we are here and there will be no reason for them to continue their movement.”

  Brendle scoffed. “You’re a hopeless romantic aren’t you? People who hate others will always find a reason to raise arms against them. It’s not that princess Herma is a bad person in their eyes, it’s that she’s not Pilatian. That’s the battlefield these people are holding the front on. It’s foreign occupation and there can be no peace.”

  “Gen thinks it might work,” Malikea shot back.

  “Oh, she does? Color me not surprised that the person with the most to gain by making this pact with you and having essentially nothing to lose thinks it could wor
k. That’s not how you facilitate peace, Mal. Sometimes you have to draw the hard line in the sand and demand no one crosses it.”

  “A treaty can be broken with a change in the wind.”

  “And so can half-laid plans to pull a ruse over a Greshian princess. I’m telling you, if pulling the wool over someone’s eyes was this easy, then the Empire would not be destroying worlds at break-neck speed. You can’t deceive these people.”

  “I can’t fire on people who are just trying to maintain who they are,” Malikea said.

  “Neither will I,” Deis interrupted.

  Brendle’s heart pounded and his hands felt clammy. “I don’t want to fire on anyone, but I don’t want to stage a military act to display our power and have it be meaningless either. Let’s not forget that Gen broke onto our ship and tried to get information about us. That’s espionage and an attack on our crew whether you want to believe that or not. She’s not our friend.”

  “Yet she could be,” Malikea said.

  “Without trust, I don’t know how that could be possible,” Brendle replied.

  “It’s funny you should mention that, brother, because that’s exactly how we felt when we had a Greshian onboard our ship,” Deis said, causing all the air to leave the room as Brendle stared back into his yellow eyes. “I don’t know what’s changed in you, but you’re not the man we once knew. It’s almost as if you resent us because we aren’t your people.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Is it?” Malikea asked, standing from his seat and moving towards his husband. “Your personality has shifted recently and it’s not just mourning the loss of Carista and worrying about Anki. You’re trying to fill another void in your life and it’s endangering the rest of us. Perhaps you should find another means to find satisfaction in the eyes of your princess, because none of us want it.”

  “What are you saying?” Brendle asked.

  “He’s saying that if you use this ship to attack those people, then you’ll no longer be a part of our crew,” Deis said, his voice tight.

  Flashbacks of being forced off the Telran for treason flooded into his mind. it had been a setup then, but in the eyes of his friends, his actions were drawing them to the conclusion that he was against them. “I—”

  “Don’t say anything you might regret,” Deis said. “Take the night to think about it. We’re going to spend the evening with Anki. You can spend it trying to find a way to make this right.”

  The Lechun men stepped off the bridge, leaving Brendle alone with his thoughts. He hadn’t considered he might have been straining his relationship with everyone by agreeing to help Princess Herma. He knew Anki was upset, but he just thought it was due to her health scare and being emotional at coming so close to death that she didn’t appreciate the position he was trying to get them into.

  Was the same true for Deis and Malikea, he wondered. Did they not see the vision he had?

  Would they really kick me off the ship if I did what was right even though they disagree with me? Brendle crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his seat. In quiet contemplation he reflected on his past and what brought him to this point. What he saw in his mind’s eye was a haunting image of a scared person close to death. He thought he was far enough removed from those events for it not to haunt him any longer, but he knew he was the one deceiving himself.

  He stood up and walked towards the main console on the bridge. “Pilot, how probable is it for Malikea’s plan to work and form a peaceful resolution with the resistance without displaying any force?”

  “I don’t believe it will be successful at all,” Pilot replied.

  “Why is that?”

  “Because to successfully pull off a ruse, the person you’re trying to fool can’t know about it,” Pedero said behind him.

  Brendle spun around, his face five shades paler. “Pedero?”

  A stoic smirk formed on her lips and she ran his fingers along the archway leading into the bridge. “I don’t think our princess is going to appreciate the fact you want to betray her trust to help those who would end her life if given the opportunity.”

  “That’s not my intention at all,” Brendle said. “I want to broker peace without having to threaten the lives of people trying to survive.”

  “And what of your people? Are you willing to risk our lives for your deluded sense of purpose?”

  Brendle swallowed. “That’s not it at all.”

  “I’m sure you understand that my trust in what you say is wavering, but you can rest assured that you will not be placing Princess Herma in a situation that will compromise her in the least.”

  “She wants to support such an action?” Brendle asked skeptically.

  Pedero’s smile faded to a look of fierce anger. “No, but she will support this one. Take him away.”

  From behind her, two armed guards entered the bridge, weapons raised. To his surprise, they weren’t Greshians.

  Brendle reached for his gun, but no sooner than his fingers touched to stock, the first guard fired on him, striking him in the chest and sending him crashing into the console. For a glimpse of a moment, he saw the holographic face of Anki’s father looking sadly at him. The next moment he was on the deck, dead to the world.

  26

  Ilium

  His fingers pressed record and he took a deep breath as the video counted down. He gave a pause once the recording began to ensure his voice would not cut off in the customary greeting, but dread was a contributing factor as well. Hell, he’d already attempted the same video half a dozen times, but time was short and an explanation imminent. So, he spoke.

  “Greeting, Admiral.

  “Captain Ilium Gyl of the King Slayer reporting an urgent message regarding an attempted attack of our ship. We have recovered from the emergency situation and neutralized the threat. Our vessel was compromised by a man disguising himself as a naval officer. Quino turned out to be working for an outside source desiring to seize control of Greshian warships by planting his people in high positions. The perpetrator’s name is Haranger. I know this because I too once worked for him.

  “It pains me to say this, but my reasoning for joining the Greshian Navy was not noble. I was planted into officer candidacy by Haranger’s people with the intention of becoming a high-ranking officer and feeding intelligence back to his organization. I served Haranger during my time on the Telran, and it all came to a head when I was transferred to the Hamæråté. I no longer desired to work for Haranger and his response was to stage a mutiny to have me killed. If not for the efforts of Captain Crexon and the crew of the King Slayer, I would be dead.

  “I turned my efforts into serving the Emperor as a legitimate Greshian naval officer, but Haranger was not done trying to kill me. He planted Quino on this ship with a device that shut down our drive and nearly killed the crew. When I confronted Quino, my life was in danger, but my Security Officer intervened, saving my life while claiming that of Quino. Unfortunately, the device was triggered by his death and after hours of attempting to disarm it, we eventually jettisoned the device. I am attaching the coordinates of these events along with that of the disposal of Quino’s body. I do not wish to carry it on board my ship.

  “I understand how this sounds and I admit that I am guilty of many things in my life, but I made a decision to do the right thing. I am telling you this because we have a severe threat to our security and every ship is at risk of falling out of the control of our Emperor. I ask that you look into my story and let me help you in stopping this threat. Thank you.”

  Ilium ended the recording and his finger danced on the edge of the device. Admitting guilt felt like drinking acid. He knew how far things could go if Headquarters decided to put an end to him. No amount of posturing could save him if they went with espionage charges, but he didn’t plan on going out like that.

  Still, he had other things to worry about.

  Other people.

  He placed the recorder on his table and stood from hi
s seat. His stateroom still looked like a disaster area, but at least it was well lit and heated. The last several hours felt like a marathon in surviving and his thoughts drifted to Stavis. He owed her his life, as did the crew. In truth, he felt he owed her more, if that was possible.

  “I may as well get this over with.” He moved towards the door before doubling back to grab the recorder, leaving the warmth of his room for the madness he knew awaited him.

  On the bridge, the relative chaos of bringing vital systems back up to speed after hours off being offline occupied the minds of his crew. In the midst of it all, Lieutenant Stavis stood proudly, overseeing the progress as she took the reins as acting executive officer once again.

  “How is the progress coming?” Ilium asked as he rubbed his cold fingers together. Though his stateroom was warm, it took the environmental control system much longer to warm larger spaces. Walking through the passageways felt like hiking through a frozen tundra.

  “Weapons are off line and Navigation keeps failing when we try to get an alignment. But the engines are operational and we can fly manually to avoid colliding with anything. Environmental controls are functioning at eighty-percent. The technicians believe there are some frozen lines preventing the warmer air from circulating efficiently. It isn’t a big deal yet, but depending on where the frozen lines are, the thawing ice could flood out some spaces.”

  “How are Communications?”

  “We haven’t tried reaching out to anyone yet, sir, but we are receiving chatter on some channels. Mostly we hear merchant ships and a few passenger ships in this sector.”

  “Do you think we can upload correspondence to send to Headquarters?”

  Stavis bit her bottom lip as she looked around the bridge with her hands on her hips. “It’s worth a try unless you want to play it safe and send to the nearest ship to forward it?”