Heritage Lost

by S M Wright

  His second leaned over Kyrillos's shoulder to oversee the request. Another pack of vessels raced toward them, a few already revving their FTL drives to make the jump before Charis said, "Their relay is down, sir. They have no IDs for the ships that were in that block."

  Gritting his teeth, Akakios glowered when a few ships disappeared. Others—a large cargo vessel, a smaller one, and a pleasure craft—came alongside them. Another group of cargo vessels shadowed them. "Pull in as many as you can."

  "Been doing that," Kyrillos said.

  Akakios blinked, a sharp pang ruffling through his head, but as soon as it had come, it vanished, along with several ships that jumped away. He clenched his seat's armrest, his knuckles white. His heart banged against his ribcage. Fleeting, but there was no denying that presence. Exhaling, Akakios met Charis' gaze, but she quickly averted hers.

  "The majority weren't displaying IDs beyond the generic Magistrate frequency," she said.

  And there lay the problem with traffic in the Fringe regions: The majority had something to hide. The perfect place for Plasovern to go undetected, and it had allowed their prey to escape Ereago.

  "Continue on course," Akakios said, forcing his posture to relax. "We'll speak with their contact."

  As they entered Ereago's atmosphere, Akakios frowned at the amount of smoke, which billowed through the sky, coming from the outer edges of the capital. No army surrounded it, just miles of rail lines and an antiquated road system. So the struggle was based in the city itself. His muscles quivered. Their briefing had mentioned growing discontent among the planet's sects, one of which was suspected of having ties to Plasovern. But it hadn't revealed how far the situation had deteriorated. Another blotch of black smoke jetted upward much closer to the city's interior.

  Ambrosios whistled. "That left a mark." He hit a few buttons, leveling out their descent with atmospheric thrusters. "And this contact . . . they wouldn't happen to be deep in the city, would they, Captain?"

  "It's a good thing we're armed to the teeth, isn't it?" Akakios leaned forward. "Bring us in, but keep plenty of space between us and the skirmish."

  Ambrosios's hands glided over the controls, inputting the commands to lower the landing equipment. Those on the bridge barely felt the transition from air to solid surface, just like they hadn't noticed the gradual shift in gravity.

  "Sir," Kyrillos said. "The local officials are asking for aid against the insurgents. They seem to think that's why we came."

  "Correct them on that assumption." Standing, Akakios stretched his arms to relieve a kink in his back before turning on his com device. "Advanced team will come with me to meet the contact. Come prepared: We're entering a war zone. Elpis, see to our welcoming committee. Keep them occupied. Try to determine what ships are still here and the names of any that left. Chrysanthos, keep the engines warm." He started to disconnect his device, only to receive an incoming call from Elpis.

  "I'm a medic. Med-ic. It's not in my job description to track down ships or speak to foreign officials unless it's of a medical nature. My—"

  "Your place is on the ship," Akakios finished. "But you are also a member of this special ops team, so don't forget your sunglasses. It's rather unsightly on the outside." He ended the call.

  Charis smirked as she adjusted the sunglasses on her face. "With due respect, sir, you do know if something were to happen to you, Lieutenant Elpis would be the one holding the scalpel?"

  "You know the captain," Ambrosios spoke before Akakios could. "He prefers living on the dangerous side. He wouldn't be in the job otherwise." His pilot then, with a flourish of his index finger, set the engines to idle. "Don't worry, sir, you're about to get a lot of that."

  "I don't doubt it. I'll meet you outside in a few minutes."

  Stopping in his quarters, Akakios added to his arsenal and grabbed his sunglasses. The interior of the ship grew darker when he placed them on his face, and in the oddest way, he was reminded of the caves his people called home. Months had stretched into a year since he had been there. His chest tightened. It would stretch even longer. He couldn’t bear the thought of returning to those empty, silent caverns. There was nothing on Demos Oneiroi for him, and no hope that there ever would be.

  Akakios shoved his AVI-15 into its holster, both only months old. Thoughts of Demos Oneiroi returned to the deep crevices of his mind, replaced by thoughts of Esh and his nephew. He brushed his hand against the service pistol as he reached for his larger assault rifle, an AVI M-10, which he suspended over his shoulder. Going off the smoke, it'd come in handy. He disembarked fully armed.

  Elpis, her hair perpetually stuck in a tight bun, already waited outside for the Magistrate port soldiers to arrive. After a jerky salute, she rounded on him. "I still think it would be better for me to stay with the ship rather than go digging through this port. What if you and the team need a hasty extraction?"

  "We'll hold out until you can get back to the ship."

  "I still think you'd be better suited to speak with the locals."

  He chuckled, turning as the others made their way outside. "I doubt that, Lieutenant Commander. You're more of a people person than I am. It's more in my job description to be imposing and unapproachable. The elite of the Elites, they call us senior officers." Coming from the direction of the port authority's main building, a hovercraft barreled toward them. "But I'll tell you what, I'll stick around long enough to commandeer that craft and enlist their assistance for you."

  The hovercraft stopped a few feet from them; its three port officials, clad in Magistrate blue rather than Ereago's tan uniforms, climbed out.

  One called out, "We're honored by your arrival, the insurgents—"

  "We have no interest in insurgents." Akakios took his slate in hand, thumbing it on and presenting to the man his Magistrate special detail emblem. "We're on a vital mission that involves a woman by the name of Usha. She operates a seedy business here in Esh, correct?"

  "Usha?" The head official spat off to the side. "It's more than a seedy business, even if we can't prove it. She has her fingers in every aspect of Ereago, and I mean every aspect. Rumors say she dabbles with Plasovern." The man pointed to the smoke plumes. "Her lair's in the far side of the market, presently contested ground. So I'm afraid that unless you help us, you won't be speaking with her at all. That is, if she hasn't already been killed."

  When Akakios exposed his eyes over the frames of his glasses, the man stiffened and stepped back.

  "If she's as clever as you paint her," Akakios said, "I doubt she'll be so easily killed. Now, we're borrowing your hovercraft, and sadly, I can make no promises that it'll be returned in pristine condition, but I'm sure you understand: war and all." Akakios clasped the man's shoulder causing him to shrink under the weight. Upon releasing his grip, Akakios entered the hovercraft.

  Charis, Ambrosios, Kyrillos, Pelagius, and Pelagia joined him. In the vehicle, Ambrosios took the helm, prepping their departure.

  Akakios gave a shallow salute to the flustered port official who could only gape at this turn of events. "Our lieutenant commander, here, will be asking you a few questions; don't make her show you why others fear us." He resisted the urge to laugh when an image of Elpis trying to instill fear sprang to mind.

  Feeling he'd cowed the man enough, he batted Ambrosios on the shoulder.

  The hovercraft shot forward through the spaceport toward the walls that separated it from Esh—well, barely did that task. The large openings allowed people to come and go as they pleased. While guards monitored these gaps, the odds proved high that a Plasovern operative would breach the wall and enter the spaceport. One bomber—as they'd seen in the past—would be all it took.

  "They have a map of the city loaded in the guidance system," Ambrosios said farther out from the port. "Barring a series of unfortunate events, we'll be there in ten to fifteen minutes."

  Pelagia pointed upward while bracing herself with her other hand. "There's your unfortunate event!"

  A
massive dark object careened through the sky.

  Ambrosios let loose a string of expletives and flung their hovercraft to the left. Its side scraped against a building, grating against the mortar—however, they avoided being buried under falling rubble. Akakios jerked his head up as another of Esh's taller buildings crumpled. With a whishing sound, a group of small planetary fighters soared overhead. He triggered his sunglasses' zoom feature, but the insignias on the fighters were foreign to him.

  "They're not Plasovern," Charis said beside him.

  "Probably the opposition." Akakios nudged Ambrosios's shoulder. "Take us farther east, away from the fighters. We can work our way back."

  Ambrosios tightened his grip on the helm before giving a curt nod. "Understood. But we might have to abandon the hovercraft. At the rate they're going, the entire market and governmental areas are going to be leveled."

  Akakios opened his mouth, but any words stopped after a boom shook their surroundings, distorting them. A cloud of dust swept past, enveloping them and filling Akakios's mouth. Sputtering, he hunched over to clear his passageways. More planetary fighters shot by. No doubt headed to the governmental sector, possibly the spaceport. His mind flickered to the Boreas. Chrysanthos should be able to react to the situation, but he wouldn't be able to prevent damage to the ship, which would be little more than a sitting target unless he gained enough altitude. Another hacking fit wracked his body.

  One of the fighters sputtered as the anti-aircraft weapons spun to life, filling the air with bright orange tracers. They cut into the enemy's crafts, a few veering downward into the city, with black smoke trailing after them. New fighters bearing the Magistrate eagle entered the mix. Together with the smaller opposition crafts, they completed a deadly dance, which promised to end favorably for the better-equipped Magistrate crafts. As another opposition craft dropped, Akakios exhaled. They wouldn't be trapped here. The spaceport remained guarded.

  Ambrosios cleared a corner and entered a main artery cluttered with people fleeing toward the safe point in the city: the spaceport. To avoid hitting any of the crowd, Ambrosios veered onto a secondary street with less traffic. Clumps of debris and building materials, however, required him to bob and weave. Their vehicle had not been created for such obstacles.

  Akakios grunted and grabbed the hovercraft's sidebars, as did his crew members, before a clump of building bits lifted their craft well beyond its design. His teeth collided together, sending waves of pain, when the hovercraft skidded hard into the ground. Ambrosios muttered something and then used the vehicle's remaining momentum to veer to the side.

  "Take—" Akakios bit his tongue and collided with the other side of the hovercraft, his forehead connecting with the guardrail.

  "Bloody farkus, Ambrosios!" one of his men—Pelagius, who had a deeper voice—said.

  A Magistrate fighter plane tore through a building a few klicks in front of them. Had Ambrosios's maneuver failed they would have been buried.

  "Forgive me, Captain." Ambrosios wiped blood from his lips, which he had bitten during his hasty gambit. "We'll have to proceed on foot. It's been fried." He pressed his sleeve against his mouth before lifting it and blinking at the blood. "What if Usha's abandoned her shop for safer ground?"

  "We'll deal with that scenario if it arrives. Have your rifles at ready. Pelagius and Pelagia, take the lead. Ambrosios and Kyrillos, cover the rear. Charis, with me."

  They maintained silence as they ran among the wreckage. Nearer to the marketplace, they had to climb over heaps of debris. Akakios stopped on one pile, noting a battered leg sticking at an odd angle out from under the concrete and brick.

  "Sir, we need to clear this area now." Charis directed his attention to one of the wrecked buildings. An undetonated missile rested, partially concealed by the toppled building. A P-330 Razer capable of clearing the block. Medzeci's signature was written all over it.

  "No." Akakios shimmied down the pile of rubble toward it. "We need to deactivate it and send in its location. There's no way we can clear its blast radius."

  Ambrosios and Charis flanked him while he bent over to inspect the missile.

  "So, Captain, how many of these have you disabled before?" Ambrosios drawled.

  "I've seen the blueprints." Akakios dusted off its small hatch covering the wiring and circuit board. Once the fine seam could be discerned, he removed a small flathead screwdriver and pick from one of his pockets. Removing the screws, Akakios thrust the pick into the seam and jostled the inner clasp free.

  "Sir," Pelagia shouted, running toward them. Apparently, she'd gone off with Pelagius to scope their surroundings. "We've got company!"

  Akakios hissed. The pick almost slipped into the chip. "Keep them busy!"

  Weapons fire rang around him. Akakios flinched when a bolt hit the building a few inches from his head, sending bits of debris pattering like rain on the ground and the missile. Surely, their opposition saw the missile sticking out off the building? Akakios wiped the sweat and dust from his face prior to ripping off his sunglasses, which were now coated. Useless. Flinching, he narrowed his eyes to block some of the light that assaulted his vision, burning his retinas. Another bolt shot high, bringing another stream of debris. Gritting his teeth, Akakios hustled on with his task.

  Charis slid off the rubble pile to join the fight. Ambrosios had already left; he'd never been one to let a skirmish pass him by. Contorting his jaw, Akakios worked to remove the chip. Plasovern-favored Razers harbored a remote activation option, offering a nasty surprise. The chip came free and nothing followed. Putting his tools back in his pocket, Akakios breathed while cleaning his sunglasses to the best of his ability. Returning them to his face, he stood and lifted his rifle.

  Detonation with the right outside influence, such as a stray blast, remained a concern. He leveled his AVI M-10 and compressed the trigger. Across the way, an opposition fighter fell, the bolt hitting him in the head. He discharged a second round at another fighter.

  The shot missed. Rather than try again, he abandoned the rubble pile while his crew persevered, dispatching their opponents one by one. By the end, ten opposition fighters lay on the ground.

  Charis hooked one of them with her foot and flopped him onto his back, exposing his gray face. "Native Gata." She bent down and opened the man's jacket. No bombs. The others were checked as well. "They aren't as insane as Plasovern, sir. But it's almost certain given their tactics that Plasovern is on-world."

  Akakios reapplied the safety to his AVI assault rifle. "That's not our problem. Just call in the Razer." He recommenced toward their destination as Kyrillos spoke with the locals via com. "Our port friends already seem aware of Plasovern's connection."

  Likely they had reported it repeatedly to the Upper Brass. However, compared to the skirmishes on Varis, Aedelsten, or Skogarld, Ereago had been brushed aside, as the planet did not threaten the stability of the Magistrate—at least not like the former planets. Skogarld perhaps didn't warrant the number of boots on the ground it had received, but Akakios supposed it was personal. The planet had birthed Hedda Strom and thus Plasovern. With that tidbit of history, the Magistrate wouldn't so easily relinquish it.

  "I'm surprised the Brass isn't giving more resources if they know Plasovern is here," Charis said, coming into step beside him. "They usually toss everything at them to prevent footholds from forming like they have on Varis and Aedelsten."

  "We only serve. Let—"

  A whining noise cut him off, followed by large rumble shaking the area. Akakios braced himself against a nearby wall. A humanoid cry reverberated when silence fell; others joined it—some resembling angry shouts. In another area, rounds of shots being traded resonated. He waved his team forward.

  They pressed on, finding the marketplace's streets abandoned except for a few citizens who struggled to free those trapped in the wreckage. A child's wail coated the area as a group of large men lifted what had been a wall. One of the men stepped back and triumphantly lifted a female child
—bloodied, dust covered, and stunned—shouting phrases in some native tongue.

  "Usha's shop is a couple feet down that road." Ambrosios pointed in the direction. "In and out?"

  "In and out," Akakios echoed, his hand grasping his service pistol.

  They paused at a corner to check their surroundings—more damaged buildings, the perfect spot for Gata snipers, and a few loiterers. He made the hand signal to continue with caution. A few deserted storefronts down, Akakios halted and dipped into one building's recess. Two Borvinian males guarded the exterior of Usha's establishment, and given Usha's reputation, he doubted they'd be pleased to welcome Elites.

  Ambrosios clapped Pelagius on the shoulder, and the two swept forward.

  The Borvinians reacted too late. The one in front of Ambrosios uttered a guttural wail and threw back his head before collapsing as did the one targeted by Pelagius. The door flung open, and two more Borvinian bouncers ran out, roaring. They each swung a wooden rungu. Ambrosios, who had been off to the side of the door, jabbed his foot into the nearest bouncer, sending him to the ground and the rungu tumbling out of reach. The hairy creature tried to stand, but his attacker incapacitated him much like a cat would a mouse.

  Pelagius—to which Akakios could only shake his head—tried to match the Borvinian in physical strength. Yes, he was built like an ox, but his opponent was out of his league in that respect. Blows met with blows of greater strength, knocking him back. Cursing, Pelagia fired her service pistol. The Borvinian wailed while gripping its bleeding knee. In that moment, Pelagius landed a solid punch to the creature's head; the bouncer toppled into a blacked-out window, shattering it.

  "What did you do that for?" Pelagius rounded on his sister.

  "We don't have time for your posturing." Pelagia returned her pistol to its holster and nudged her head toward Akakios. "Besides, you were embarrassing the captain. We have standards, you know?"

  Pelagius shot heated words back at her, but Akakios didn't have time to play mom with the twins. Pistol in hand, he entered the store. On the interior, drugged patrons lounged on cushions, so out of it they hadn’t reacted to the sudden broken window or the firestorm whirling outside. No, they puffed their heh'sha, letting their city, their world, plummet into a civil war that would choke any prosperity. Akakios scowled at them and the foreignness of their choices—to let their world burn. His hand tightened on his pistol, tempted to shoot the machines and remove their fake pleasure.