Quest for Dominion: An Interstellar War Story (The Essence Wars Book 3)

by Paul Heingarten

"Analysis of crew aboard!" Malone shouted.

  Osmun checked several monitors at his station for a moment. "The ship appears to be piloted by two. One looks to be of Outcast Nara ancestry, the other a robot."

  Malone had long considered his son lost, a casualty of Malone's punishment and one of the many reasons for the path of revenge he'd chosen. While he was still a proper Nara citizen, he'd tried to get his son and wife to join him on his quest, but his family hesitated. Even they had their doubts. Malone refused self-reflection at this; instead, he blamed the Nara for what he considered a clouding of the minds of those he loved the most. Regardless of any conspiracies that may have been in effect, plans made in the shadows weren't an easy sell, even to loved ones. Malone's cycles since his exile were filled with many thoughts, and while his son and wife were high among them, his grief over their separation faded once the urge for revenge had taken hold of every fiber of his being.

  "Track them."

  "Already are, sir. They appear to be headed for a system called Zormad toward the far reach," Osmun replied.

  "Then set course for this Zormad. We've got much to take from them, especially now that it appears a reunion is most in order."

  Chapter 7

  Of all Malone's wants and demands, he'd never considered his son to even be an option among them. To Malone, his life with his son and wife seemed to have taken place a thousand centuries ago. Malone’s efforts with the Nara had served him but also helped his family reach a status of preferential treatment. He'd never known such happiness, but once his growing ambitions caused concern for the Nara upper echelon, the Nara did what they could to stop him. Found guilty of attempts at Essence manipulation, Malone's transgressions were unforgivable under Nara law. The Nara had previously reached their hand out to Malone and desperately attempted to correct his eyes from his path, but he was too far gone. His wife Ursula was kidnapped as well as his son, which only fueled his distrust and contempt for everything the Nara held dear.

  Deciding further, the Nara declared his wife and son among the Outcast, and sent them to distant reaches of the Galaxy, but not before destroying his wife's memory of him. His loves were removed like locks of hair. Malone in turn underwent modification and was thrust out of the dimension forever.

  Alone in the Galaxy, Malone's mind went to work on many things. The retribution for those who'd done this to him, the worry and anguish of his lost family. He was a soul that searched in a Galaxy of those who knew nothing of him and were indifferent. His life post expulsion was a slow climb, starving and stealing for food, and learning many illicit trades. Eventually, he decided on a course for himself. To him, his early transgressions were a call to overthrow the true tyranny of the Galaxy. He knew that for him, and his family if they ever survived, his course lay in the dismantling of everything the Nara and Ancients stood for.

  #

  After they engaged their jump capabilities, Malone's posse of starcraft entered the atmosphere of Zormad. Osmun straightened up in his chair, excited with an ID of easy prey for his master. "Excellency, we've identified a troop massing on the far side of the system."

  Malone gazed ahead at the map. He ran a finger back and forth over his upper lip in thought. "This isn't a sightseeing trip. Give me data, armaments, everything." He glared back at Osmun.

  Flustered, Osmun opened several holographic screens and did a number of calculations. "Troop size 10 thousand approximately. A small fleet of starcraft at the ready as well. Sire, they show Railen Markings."

  "Ah, the marauders are here." Malone snickered. "That means our prey is more valuable than I already sensed. Soon enough I'll sic my new lapdog Zakmar and the Omegans on the Railen fools and the UA. We don't have time to serve their punishment now. Do you have a fix on the Crimson Lance?" Malone muttered.

  "Sire, yes, we do."

  "Excellent. Proceed on a direct run. Fighters, use your shift abilities and disable any starcraft in immediate range. I'm getting the Crimson Lance, however possible," Malone writhed his hands together in delight. Whether or not his son was interested in joining Malone wasn't a concern of his right then. Malone had been chased by so many entities, fights like this had become regular sport for him. Evasion of their measly pursuits was so effortless, it teetered on boring. However, finding his son after all these cycles alive and well made things quite different and new.

  Malone's fleet formed ships in a large V, with the Aeon Impaler at the head. They shot toward the amassed area of Railen ships with lightning speed. As they approached, several Railen ships broke off the main group into defensive formations. Malone contacted his pilots with further instructions.

  "Engage them, but don't worry about a slaughter for now. There'll be time for that later. Wound them. Once you get an all clear from me, reconvene at the rendezvous point and we'll make our warp jump home together. For the greater glory of your Supreme!"

  The pilots replied their acknowledgment to Malone. Ship to ship, fire rumbled about the scene, and Malone saw the Crimson Lance through the forward view.

  "Target that ship's engines; don't let it escape!" Malone said.

  However, Malone's crew was a hair too late with grabbing the errant ship. In a brilliantly colored flash, the Crimson Lance vanished from view.

  Malone stared blankly at the spot where the Crimson Lance had been moments earlier. He blurted out to no one and everyone on the bridge at once, "Someone tell me we've got a trace on that ship's warp path!"

  Reige, who handled analysis on the Aeon Impaler, said, "No, Supreme, it appears their warp was transient type. Those are more random and difficult to track. I'm afraid we don't have a solid trail on this one."

  The realization of what happened was clear to Malone, but he still hadn't grasped the fact that it was reality. Things slipping away from Malone wasn't a common occurrence, and this took a little longer for him to accept.

  "Reige, in my quarters. The rest of you, canvass the Galaxy. I want that ship and its passengers alive!"

  Chapter 8

  There were no judge and juries coming to rescue the good Yeoman Reige. His guilt was predetermined, his sentence grim and forthcoming.

  Still, Reige found a sliver of courage, enough for a feeble attempt at an excuse. "Sire, we failed to identify the ship warp capabilities; the number of ships in that area made the scan inconclusive with the small time we had to work with."

  Malone eyed Reige with curiosity. He'd been accustomed to the pleas, the begging of the guilty, the cries for mercy from those who knew well it wasn't theirs for the asking, certainly not for the taking. Reige took a different tack. Malone hated to admit his admiration for such a play, and he wondered if he may have misjudged this move of discipline.

  "Reige, your points are most valid." Malone folded his arms. "And I do agree, we were in a tight position. Even with our capabilities, that fight was not ours to command. We had to be swift and leave the area, and such a short amount of time leaves much to go wrong."

  Beads of sweat formed on the Reige's forehead; he blinked nervously and nodded with Malone.

  As Malone paced about, the yeoman shifted his weight between his feet, uncertain what his next move or choice of words was. The only thing he knew was absolute agreement with Malone was the smartest course for the moment.

  Malone swung back to the yeoman, a twinkle in his eye. "Yeoman, I've got just the thing for you."

  Reige's midsection tightened, and terror shot through him as he braced himself for whatever was about to happen. Malone was fond of the knivery for his dirty work. The idea of a knife twisting its way through his midsection gave Reige a decent amount of nausea, and he soon felt dizzy.

  Malone steadied him with a hand. "Easy there, yeoman. You've got more work to do. Your post on this ship is terminated, but don't worry. Your time among the living isn't over yet, I've got one more mission for you to do. Think of it as a penance and also a comeuppance. Whatever you want to call it, just know your choices in this matter are nonexistent."

&nbs
p; #

  Once Reige was dispatched, Malone returned to the bridge. His plans had many sides, and he couldn't have wasted too much time on just one of them in finding his son.

  The ship’s warning system blared an alert, but Malone had sensed what it was without seeing it on the screen. The Railen were as close to kin for him as the Nara, and their presence sent an unnatural shudder through his system.

  The Aeon Impaler's ship's comm hailed an incoming transmission, and moments later, Malone stared into the face of one of his former brethren on-screen.

  "Commander Viro, I trust this isn't a social call," Malone muttered.

  "Hardly. I'm on a mission of mercy from Ander Pimm. Malone, we have a common enemy. If you'd only listened to Ander's numerous offers of cooperation, you'd be much better supported with our fleet at your disposal."

  "Vengeance and retribution are hollow goals, Commander Viro. The Railen want to reclaim their inheritance, and I certainly understand that. But, I seek something far deeper, a far richer meaning in this existence that neither the Railen nor the Nara can comprehend."

  Viro eyed Malone. Theirs was a chess game, and Malone knew better than to dismiss someone like Viro, who'd been in his share of scuffles. Viro was among the leaders of the insurrection of Nara where so many of the citizens were outcast.

  Viro sighed. "Malone. Realize that we're hellbent on our return, and we'll go through everything and everyone we must to get there, including you. Believe me, I for one would rather work with than against you attacking the filthy Nara. I'm starved for my return, and Malone, no matter what you say, you can't deny in your being some missing fiber of that. Ours wasn't meant to be dwelling in this dimension among the lesser races of Ling Galaxy, but to rule, to control, to preside over existence with our kindly benevolence toward all."

  Malone mulled Viro's statement over in his head. It wasn't a lie, and Malone knew part of him wanted that return to his home world. However, what he'd seen in his visions into Essence told him that his place in the Galaxy wasn't determined by the system he once called home, but instead by control of Essence itself. As much as Viro may have been genuine about an offer of brotherhood to his former fellow Nara, Malone knew there would come a time when Malone's control of Essence was the driving force that made Viro seek Malone's death.

  "Viro, old friend, I'm not interested in backstepping. I have much more pressing matters at the present."

  Viro sneered for a moment. "You'll regret this one day, Malone. Know that."

  Malone ended the transmission. "As if." He turned to his crew. "We've got minds to win, hearts to heal. To the Agmon system!"

  Chapter 9

  Like her neighbor systems in Ling Galaxy, Agmon had endured times of sustenance and periods of want and utter despair. Lately, the scales tipped to despair and stayed there. A famine had rocked the system, leaving a large portion of the populace without necessary food and water.

  Veculus had also ravaged Agmon, and a collection of abandoned makeshift hospitals that littered the surface told a tale of loss and death that spanned many cycles back.

  The more resourceful citizens found escape from the system via their own starcraft or by trading passage on a number of transports, sometimes for money, sometimes for possessions, and sometimes for physical favors. Poverty awakened the basest of instincts in citizens of Ling Galaxy. The excess want also revised the viewpoints of many on how much of one's personal dignity would be traded for another breath of air and day of life.

  Malone knew how decrepit Agmon was. He was ready to show the rest of the universe why all needed his protection. After all, rhetoric fell flat without a visible example of action now and then.

  He watched the map of the Galaxy on his console as a giant studying a pile of ants. So many lifeforms, he thought. Some already have seen the way, but how can I show the rest what their only true path is?

  While the Galaxy spun on its continuing course through the void, an idea planted in Malone's mind. It was one of many, and it hadn't arisen until he took time to study the Galaxy and its worlds. I must get the message out. To claim and to promise is the stuff of politicians. I'm far beyond that, but unless I show people what I can do, I'll never achieve my goal, he thought.

  He summoned Frey to his side.

  "Frey, I'm going to perform a demonstration at Agmon. The Galaxy can fear me, but if they don't believe in me, we'll never accomplish our goals."

  Frey glanced at the map of the Galaxy, then back to Malone. "Perhaps they need to see more of our firepower. We can double back on Zormad with more ships and send a strong message to those stupid enough to defy us."

  "No, Frey, there'll be plenty of time for battles. The wretched Nara, the pompous Railen, the devious Omegans, the conniving Cerulaks—one day they'll all be at our mercy. Before that happens, though, we need to curry favor with the masses of the Galaxy. We'll rule with diplomacy in the end."

  Frey clenched his jaw. He'd been ready for a fight, especially since being dismissed from the Omegan military. Citations for extreme recklessness in the Omegan military like the one Frey received were a prime example of intergalactic irony. Frey had on numerous instances bucked authority and had led his ships into dangerous situations. His success rate was difficult to argue, but eventually the Omegans grew tired of the risks he subjected his crews to. He then found himself adrift, a soldier of fortune until Malone cast his eyes on him one day and not only offered him a new start, but a chance to feel useful, and even important once again.

  "Agmon, it is." Frey nodded before commanding the navigation team on the new course.

  "We will be broadcasting Galaxy wide as well. See to it our signal is sent to all the Galaxy corners on Network."

  "Aye."

  #

  The Aeon Impaler with its associated escorts descended on Agmon with little fanfare. The derelict system's resources left it with no military presence, nor any strategic resources of note. Its citizens existed in a series of shanty towns, surviving off barters and starving for what little hope any of them still had.

  Landing near one of the towns, Malone directed Frey toward the ship's external broadcast system. The unit would send a feed of their activities throughout the Galaxy. Some saw their message as it happened while others would view it after it was shared. Nothing seen by Malone Stanton, as wanted a fugitive as he was, would ever go by unnoticed.

  Once Frey nodded that their signal was being sent, Malone activated the ship's external address system.

  "Citizens of Agmon, I bring you good tidings. The Galaxy has forgotten you. The Nara, mother to all Ling Galaxy, have forgotten you. However, I, the Supreme, have not forgotten you. I bring you new life and a chance to become what you were always meant to be. Those within my voice, come forward to my ship and meet me. I offer you life."

  With the Essence orb in a container, Malone and Frey left the ship with a group of soldiers following. Malone walked ahead unprotected. Some like Frey had warned him about such moves in public, but Malone shrugged them off. He felt a strong wave of invulnerability over him, fueled by his powers but also stoked by his control of Essence. He knew that he'd been able to do what so many others hadn't and in their eyes, couldn't, even wouldn't.

  Frey checked the broadcasting system and confirmed all was still sending. "We should leave within 15 standard minutes to prevent anyone from locating us and making this system," Frey warned Malone.

  Malone shot him an annoyed glare. Frey swallowed hard but held his gaze on Malone.

  "Fine, but these people and the Galaxy will see me and know I was here."

  Malone looked out to a collection of Agmon's citizens. They were a mixed group, one Railen, several Mardaks, and some other Tillians, the once proud race native to Agmon.

  Malone thrust his arms outward. "My children, the Supreme has heard your suffering and has come to ease your pain. Please come forward."

  One of the Tillians, a short and frail female, stepped closer. Her voice cracked with sadness. "We've been with
out food for weeks. We eat the roots we find and drink whatever moisture we pull from the air."

  Malone neared the female, his brow furrowed. "My child, your suffering is terrible and unnecessary. Tell me your name."

  "Taru... Nosova," she whimpered.

  The rest of the group lowered their heads when Taru spoke. Malone knew their stories were similar to Taru’s without even hearing any others. Their collective despair burned into his mind with the rays of a million suns. He held his hand up. To the derelict dwellers, it looked like he beckoned them closer, but Frey knew better. He checked the equipment for a proper angle and view of Malone with the Agmon dwellers.

  Malone embraced Taru. Her thin frame twitched with sobs of weakness and despair. Malone soothed her, his face twisted with the sadness he felt whenever he found someone who, like him, had been forgotten. When he spoke again, his voice was also choked with emotion.

  "Today, I liberate this world, and fulfill a promise to you that the Nara have failed at for centuries. You will no longer want today, you will no longer thirst; you will thrive, you will be reborn, you will be my children. Your Supreme offers you this."

  With that, Malone released Taru. He produced the canister with the Essence Orb in it, and held it aloft. "Today, in my name, this world of Agmon is reborn." Malone twisted one end of the container. The device lit up with a series of blue glowing patterned lines, and a deep hum filled the air.

  Within moments, the arid land of Agmon became fertile ground, and around them various trees bearing fruit appeared. The derelicts looked around them in amazement. Several fell to their knees in disbelief, and soon all of them glanced everywhere, tears in their eyes and the deepest awe for Malone.

  Malone savored their look, their unspoken gratitude, for a moment before he turned to one of the cameras controlled by Frey.

  "The Nara have failed this Galaxy, but through me, we will all be reborn. All the Supreme asks in return is your belief and support."