And it hadn’t ended there. That had just been the distraction for them to reach Astralis’s leaders and possess them with the consciousness of their own leader, Abaddon. Admiral Stavos, General Graves, Chief Councilor Ellis, Director Nora Helios of the Resurrection Center, and even the new chief councilor’s eldest daughter, Atara Ortane, had all been infected.
All of them were lost now that the Resurrection Center was gone, destroyed by the a bomb smuggled into the center by the crime boss Joseph Coretti.
Now there was no way to resurrect their dead leaders and civilians, and any surviving Faro agents couldn’t be restored to their uninfected state.
Wheeler’s attention drifted back to the holo table in front of her. Explosions bloomed as enemy ships succumbed to weapons fire from the Etherian Fleet.
Then one of the Etherian ships exploded, cracking apart into dark, drifting chunks. Wheeler frowned into the fading light of that explosion. If the Faros were trying to capture the Etherian ships, why would they destroy one of them?
“What happened to that ship?” Wheeler asked, looking up at her XO, as if Drask somehow knew more than she.
“I don’t know...” he replied. “Its shields were failing, but the hull was still in perfect condition. Maybe the Faros scored a lucky hit?”
Wheeler watched a flight of Faro boarding shuttles bank away from the ruins of that ship, heading for another Etherian vessel with failing shields. Just as soon as that ship’s shields failed, it also flew apart with a bright flash of light. “They’re self-destructing their ships before the Faros can board them,” Wheeler said.
“Damn wasteful to self-destruct every ship that loses its shields,” Drask said. “If we had Marines on board we could fight off any boarders and keep those ships.”
Wheeler shook her head. “We have over a million Marine bots and sergeants aboard Astralis, and yet a few hundred Faros still managed to accomplish their mission when they boarded us.”
“We weren’t prepared for the strength of their personal shields, but we found ways of fighting them in the end,” Drask countered. “You better believe we can kill them now that we know what kind of firepower it takes.”
Wheeler waved her hand dismissively at the colonel. “I’m glad to hear it, but the discussion is hypothetical until we are actually able to get Marines on board the Etherian fleet.”
“We could send out our own boarding shuttles to contest the enemy for the ships they’re trying to take.”
“And leave ourselves vulnerable to boarders?”
“We can spare the men without compromising our own defense,” Drask replied.
“Yes, I suppose we can. All right, get me—”
“Admiral, we’re being hailed by the enemy fleet!” the comms officer called out.
Wheeler turned to address the woman. “Now that they’re losing, they want to talk?” Wheeler took a breath. “Patch them through to the main forward display, Lieutenant.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the comms officer replied.
Wheeler turned to Chief Councilor Ortane. “Councilor, I believe you should be the one to answer this.”
The other woman nodded slowly, and the glazed look left her eyes. “Agreed.”
“This way,” Wheeler said, leading her from the holo table to the observation dais at the front and center of the command deck, overlooking the lower two decks of the bridge. Wheeler indicated that the councilor climb a short flight of stairs leading up to the dais, while she remained standing below those stairs and to one side.
Everyone directed their attention to the three-story-high viewscreen at the front of Astralis’s hexagonal bridge, and moments later, that screen faded from stars and space to show the head and shoulders of a by-now-familiar blue-skinned humanoid with glowing, ice-blue eyes. He wore a luminous golden crown, gray robes, and a chilling smile that was framed by perfectly even white teeth.
This was Abaddon, the king of the Faros—or one of them, anyway. He supposedly had billions of identical clones, all somehow sharing the same consciousness and memories.
“Abaddon,” Councilor Ortane said. There was no concealing the ice in her voice. “What do you want?”
Wheeler felt her stomach tense at the abruptness of those words. This was the being who had erased the councilor’s eldest daughter’s consciousness with his own. Suddenly Wheeler wondered if she should be the one standing on that dais to address the enemy leader. Anger is fog for the brain.
“Straight to the point,” Abaddon said, his smile broadening. “Good. I would hate to waste my breath.”
“You’re wasting it now.”
Abaddon’s smile vanished and his glowing blue eyes flashed, but just for a second. He clamped down on that reaction, and his smile returned.
Don’t goad him, Wheeler thought. We’re winning now, but we don’t know what kind of reinforcements he has coming. With hundreds of capital ships and thousands of fighters still firing on both sides it was no time to be smug. He must be speaking to us for a reason, Wheeler thought.
“I would like to negotiate,” Abaddon said. “I assume you also speak for the Etherian fleet that is attacking my vessels?”
“You are the aggressor here,” Councilor Ortane replied, “but yes, I speak for all of us.”
“Good, then here is what I propose: give the Etherian fleet to me, and I will grant all humans everywhere full citizenship in the Farosien Empire. My fight is with Etherus and his chosen people, the Etherians, not with any of you.”
Wheeler blinked, momentarily shocked by the offer.
Chief Councilor Ortane replied, “What guarantee do we have that you won’t turn on us as soon as you have what you want? If we give you the fleet, we won’t be able to defend ourselves anymore. Besides, I’m told that the reason you want the fleet is to use it to find Etheria. You can do that just as easily with access to one ship as you can with access to all of them.”
“True, but you can’t blame me for trying. The fleet has impressive firepower and shielding. It would be a great asset in my war.”
“You can have one ship.”
“Of my choosing?”
“No.”
“Then I want a hundred.”
Councilor Ortane shook her head. “Try again.”
Abaddon grinned. “Ten.”
“We may be able to accommodate that.... I’ll need to consult with the other councilors and my military advisers. In the meantime, I suggest a cease fire.”
“Agreed.” Abaddon turned to give an order—in Farosien rather than Versal—to someone they couldn’t see. A moment later, he turned back to them. “Done.”
Chief Councilor Ortane glanced over her shoulder at the holo table where Colonel Drask stood. “Colonel?”
“They’ve stopped firing, ma’am.”
“Good. Admiral Wheeler, please give the order for our forces to stand down.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Wheeler said. Turning to her comms officer, she gave the command, “Comms, send a priority message on an open channel to all of our forces: cease fire in effect. Weapons hold.”
“Aye, Admiral,” the comms officer replied.
“Sensors, confirm weapons hold,” Wheeler said.
“All ships have stopped firing, ma’am,” the sensor officer replied a split second later.
“Good...” Abaddon said, his voice all but purring in Wheeler’s ears.
The chief councilor nodded. “There is one other thing. We still have several of your agents on board, humans harboring copies of your consciousness. Some of them are not as thoroughly infected as others. They have your personality, but not your memories.”
“Yes, one of them is your daughter, Atara,” Abaddon replied, smiling and nodding.
“We also have several dozen Faro prisoners on board,” the chief councilor went on, not skipping a beat at the mention of her daughter. Wheeler felt a measure of grudging respect for Tyra at that, and her concerns about who should be handling these negotiations faded away.
“You wa
nt to trade,” Abaddon said. “I reverse what I did to your people in exchange for you giving me the Faro prisoners.”
Chief Councilor Ortane inclined her head in a shallow nod. “It would go a long way to proving your intentions with regards to us and the rest of humanity. Consider it a show of good faith.”
“Faith—I’m not a fan of that word,” Abaddon replied.
“Good will, then,” Councilor Ortane replied.
“What makes you think I can reverse the transfer of consciousness?” Abaddon asked in a sly tone.
“Can you?”
The Faro king’s eyes brightened and danced with amusement. “I can, but only for the one’s who harbor partial copies of my consciousness, and I’ll need to touch them again in order to do so.”
“Fly a shuttle out to Astralis. I’ll send a fighter escort to direct you to one of our hangar bays. Make sure you come alone. If we detect more than one lifeform aboard, we’ll destroy the shuttle and the cease fire will be over.”
“My my, but aren’t you enjoying ordering me about,” Abaddon said. A smile remained on his lips, but his glowing eyes glittered coldly.
“Do you or don’t you want the access to the Etherian ships?” Chief Councilor Ortane asked. “You could go on trying to board them, but we’ll just keep self-destructing them before you can. Even if you have reinforcements coming, that outcome doesn’t change. Negotiating with us is the only way for you to get you what you want, but you already know that, otherwise you wouldn’t be speaking to us now.”
“I accept your terms,” Abaddon said, waving his hand to forestall further arguments. “You should see my shuttle approaching soon.”
“Good, we’ll—”
The image of the Faro king vanished, cutting the chief councilor off midstream. A pregnant silence reigned on the Bridge as stars and space returned to the main forward display.
Abaddon was coming.
Chapter 3
Astralis
“I don’t trust him,” Admiral Wheeler said, breaking the silence on the bridge.
“Neither do I,” Chief Councilor Ortane replied as she turned and stepped down from the observation dais.
“He’s buying time for his reinforcements to arrive,” Wheeler said. “Once he has the upper hand he’ll turn around and threaten to destroy Astralis if we don’t hand over the fleet.”
“And in turn we’ll threaten to self-destruct the Etherian fleet.”
“That still either leaves us all enslaved or dead,” Wheeler pointed out. “He knows we wouldn’t risk that.”
“Wouldn’t we?” the chief councilor asked. “He won’t risk it. He’s spent ten thousand years looking for this lost fleet, why risk losing it by calling our bluff? He doesn’t care about Astralis. All he wants is that fleet.”
“Then why work so hard to infect our leaders and take over Astralis from within?” Wheeler asked.
“They were using us as bait to lure the lost fleet here, and if they were still in control of Astralis, they’d have been able to seize that fleet without a fight. Astralis was just a means to that end. I think Abaddon was telling the truth when he said that his fight is with Etherus and the Etherians. He doesn’t care about humanity.”
“Let’s say that’s true,” Wheeler said. “And let’s say he honors his promise to grant us all citizenship in his empire. Who’s to say that he won’t renege on that deal after he’s conquered Etheria? We still can’t trust him.”
“No, perhaps we can’t, but if this fleet is any example of the Etherians’ defensive and offensive capabilities, then why should we be afraid that Abaddon might find the way to Etheria? You said it yourself: the Etherians can take care of themselves. We, on the other hand... we’re stranded in enemy territory, and if we don’t give the Faros what they want, I wouldn’t put it past them to kill us all out of spite—and later New Earth, too, when they get the chance.”
Wheeler blew out a breath. “All right, so we let Etherus and the Etherians look after themselves, and we look after ourselves.”
“For now. When we’re done here, I suggest we take Astralis and the rest of the Etherian fleet and get back to New Earth as fast as we can so we can warn Etherus that Abaddon is coming. At that point we can join forces and fight the Faros together.”
“What if Abaddon predicts that we’ll ultimately side with Etherus and he decides to destroy us just as soon as he has the ships he’s asking for?” Wheeler asked. “Then we won’t have a chance to warn Etherus, and he won’t have to fight us again later.”
“We still have the upper hand in this fight,” the chief councilor pointed out. “We’ll win if he double-crosses us now.”
“Not if the negotiations take long enough that the Faros’ reinforcements arrive.”
“There are ways to give Abaddon what he wants while also allowing us to retreat safely, but all the same, we’d better make sure these negotiations are concluded quickly. I’m going to call a virtual session of council to save some time deliberating over Abaddon’s offer.”
“What if the council rules against Abaddon’s deal?” Wheeler asked.
“I’m confident I can convince the other councilors. Meanwhile, I need you to arrange for the exchange of prisoners with Abaddon in one of our hangar bays.”
Wheeler nodded. “I’ll take care of it, ma’am.”
“Good. Let me know which hangar you choose. I’ll see you there, Admiral.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Wheeler watched the chief councilor leave the bridge with apprehension twisting in her gut. Something felt wrong about what they were doing. It seemed like they were calling the shots, like they had the upper hand in these negotiations, but Wheeler couldn’t help feeling that it was actually the other way around.
Perhaps it was superstition on her part, but if Etherus was the God he claimed to be, then Abaddon was the Devil—and we’re making a deal with him, Wheeler thought.
She shook her head and brushed her misgivings aside. “Colonel Drask—” She turned to face him, and he looked up from the holo table with eyebrows raised, waiting for her orders. “Get a platoon of Marines to Hangar Bay Sixty-six.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Comms, get in touch with our security departments and tell them to escort all of the known human-Faro agents to the same hangar bay.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the comms officer replied.
“Let’s see if Abaddon can make good on his promise to release our people.”
Murmurs of agreement rose from the officers on the bridge, and Admiral Wheeler went to stand on the observation dais, overlooking the bustle of activity on the lower decks. She watched as officers went about their duties, managing the lesser function of the ship from its secondary control stations. After a moment, Colonel Drask stepped up to the dais beside her. “Admiral,” he said.
“Colonel,” Wheeler replied. “Something on your mind?”
“I don’t believe we should be negotiating with the Faros. We have the upper hand. We should press our advantage and punch a hole in their jamming field so we can escape.”
Wheeler frowned. “I’m inclined to agree with you, but it’s a political decision, and besides, if we don’t negotiate we might never be able to remove Abaddon’s consciousness from the people he infected.”
“I’m not sure he will do it. He might just pretend to release them. The negotiations are a stalling tactic to give them enough time for reinforcements to arrive.”
“Even if that’s the case, as the chief councilor pointed out, reinforcements won’t help them get what they want. We can still deny them access to the Etherian fleet.”
“Perhaps, but we won’t get what we want either. We’ll all end up dead or enslaved to the Faros.”
“It’s a risky gamble, Colonel, but I believe the chief councilor is right. The Faros won’t risk losing what they came for.”
“And what happens after they have what they want?” Drask pressed.
Wheeler had been thinking about that. The chief councilor wa
s right about that, too. “There’s a way to conduct the exchange safely. We move Astralis and the Etherian Fleet beyond the Faros’ jamming field and calculate a jump to a destination we have verified as safe. While we’re doing that, we leave the ten ships we’re giving to the Faros at the edge of their jamming field. As soon as our calculations are complete, we jump away, leaving Abaddon with his prize and us with our freedom.”
“That could work,” Drask admitted.
Wheeler turned to look at her XO. His gaunt cheeks and sunken eyes made him look skeletal and frail, an odd aspect for a Marine, but what he lacked in physical strength he made up with in mental acuity.
“It will work,” Wheeler insisted.
“And if Abaddon only pretends to release our people?”
Wheeler shook her head. “We’ll use the AI-driven screening tests we developed to uncover the Faro agents in the first place. If the tests come back clean, then chances are they’re no longer infected, but if they’re still showing signs of infection, Abaddon will become our next prisoner. Speaking of, I’d better get to the hangar bay for the exchange.”
“You’re going to attend personally, ma’am?” the colonel asked with a dubious shake of his head.
“After what happened the last time Faros boarded us, I want to keep Abaddon where I can see him.”
“But what if he gets to you this time, ma’am?”
“Then you’ll be in command.”
“With all due respect, I don’t think you should expose yourself to the risk. This might just be a ploy to get all of our leaders in one place so that the Faros can smuggle a bomb aboard with their shuttle and detonate it in the hangar.”
Wheeler nodded. “Abaddon would die, too, but that’s a fair point. Have our fighters escort Abaddon to bay one twenty. That’s in one of the evacuated sections over Fallside, so even if there is a bomb, there shouldn’t be many casualties. Make sure a platoon of marine bots is waiting to escort Abaddon to bay sixty-six.”
Dark Space Universe (Books 1-3): The Third Dark Space Trilogy (Dark Space Trilogies) Page 66