The Circuit: The Complete Saga

by Bruno, Rhett C.

  Yara stormed over and grabbed Talon by his collar. “Who are you?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Just look over—”

  Talon was cut off when the tech shouted, “Eureka’s local scanners are finally up and running. Heavy activity popping up all around us, but I can’t get an exact read on anything. We’re being jammed. Never seen scramblers like this.”

  Yara released Talon. She was staring through the viewport over his shoulder, her mouth hanging open as she too spotted what he had.

  “How could they be here so fast?” she questioned. “We just attacked!”

  She slammed her fist against the glass before rushing over to Captain Hadris at the makeshift command center. “Send out a message to every unit. Scramble all fighters and have our gunners assume defensive positions.”

  “Madam, most of them are still dealin’ with the remnants of the Tribunal defenders in the heart of the asteroid,” Captain Hadris responded nervously.

  “Just do it! Tell every remaining ship to swarm the Lutetia and keep its halves as intact as possible.”

  The captain was shaking. Nerves had the better of him. Finally, Talon was getting a chance to see exactly how unprepared he was as he dictated her commands over comms so that they could be relayed throughout the entire Lakura force.

  Talon was about to get the fight he’d been hoping for, only this time he couldn’t bring himself to be excited. Just like on the Tribunal freighter, he was trapped—surrounded inside and out. The Tribune was trading a loss for a massacre, a tactic they’d learned from Cassius Vale decades earlier no doubt.

  “Madam, if we stay, they’re going to do exactly what we just did to them,” Talon said.

  “Stow it!” she snarled and shoved Talon by his head. “Get to your position. If there is a New Earth cruiser coming, then we’re bringing it down with us! For Lutetia! For Kalliope!” Every Lakura fighter in the room raised their fists and chanted with her.

  “Talon, what’re we going to do?” Tarsis whispered, pulling him aside.

  “You mean besides dying?” Talon asked.

  “Talon…”

  “Sorry, I just have no influence here. If I’m right about what’s out there, even running is impossible. They won’t destroy this place, it’s too crucial, but our ships will be useless. They’re going to swarm the floors of this asteroid in numbers you can’t even dream of, and the war will be over before it even starts. Even if we survive the first wave, eventually they’ll bury us in the tunnels to let us starve or suffocate. How many damn times are they going to catch me in one of their traps?”

  Talon slumped down against the glass and punched the floor out of frustration.

  The floor! The thought popped into his head as he rubbed his sore knuckles. His mind trailed back to when he was aboard the freighter, and he remembered how Sage had turned the tide aboard the Tribunal freighter before they found there was no way out. He had no desire to mimic the woman who’d betrayed him and his now dead friends, but this was no time to let pride get in the way.

  “Unless,” he said.

  “Unless what?” Tarsis asked.

  “Grab a rifle. We’re heading down to the station’s gravity generator before it’s too late.”

  Tarsis’ eyes opened wide. “You can’t mean?”

  “I do.”

  “Should we tell Yara?”

  “Not until it’s too late for her to stop me.”

  28

  Chapter Twenty-Eight—Adim

  ADIM’s feet scraped across the rocky floor. He kept his arms and legs limp, emulating all the dead human bodies he’d seen over the years. Ceresians in every direction shouted obscenities, cursing the name of his Creator.

  None of them could understand his will.

  They were all too weak and undeserving. ADIM knew now that they deserved the same fate as those on Kalliope, but he had a plan to follow. Cassius needed them alive for the moment.

  “Calm yourselves!” Zaimur Morastus hollered over the din of the crowd. He led the guards dragging ADIM’s camouflaged chassis. “Calm yourselves!”

  The crowd didn’t listen. Objects slammed into ADIM’s body. None of it was enough to damage him, but the distortion to his holographic shield could prove dangerous. Zaimur must have realized that. He immediately ordered his men to surround ADIM and bear the brunt of all projectiles.

  As ADIM and his two carriers neared the hatch of an airlock, their arms started to give out. ADIM’s frame sank, beginning to scratch against the floor so loudly that it was audible over the racket. The Morastus men moaned in struggle before Zaimur sent two more to aid them. They propped him up and lugged him directly in front of the airlock.

  “Men and women of Ceres, the plague of the Belt is truly gone!” Zaimur announced. Thousands of Ceresian souls cheered at the top of their lungs. “Now, let us give him the fate he provided for so many of our ancestors and brethren. Today, in the name of my recently deceased and beloved father, and with the accord of every clan in our pact, we will send his body tumbling through space back to his masters. Not even his rotting corpse is worthy of resting within the walls of this hallowed rock!”

  More applause followed his words, and then they quieted, waiting anxiously for what would happen next. ADIM heard the hiss of the airlock popping. The Morastus henchmen caught their breath, digging their hands under his back and legs, and loaded him in. His metallic body fell into the open airlock with a clank.

  “Goodbye, Cassius Vale,” Zaimur said. “I only wish my father lived a day longer to see you get the fate you deserve. May you never find peace.”

  The inner seal of the airlock shut and then the outer one shot open. ADIM was yanked out into space, his limbs twisting in a way that made maintaining his camouflage difficult. He took careful note of how pleased every Ceresian seemed to be that Cassius would never again walk the Circuit.

  ADIM then tucked his legs and steadied his movement. He tumbled over so that he could look back at the tremendous oblong asteroid known as Ceres. Lights flickered along its wrinkled surface where the countless hangars and tunnels allowed entrance. There was no real order to it except for a cluster that sliced along a portion of the center between two natural valleys, like the buckle on a belt.

  Twenty-five hours and thirteen minutes passed by in silence.

  Ceres became little more than a pebble in the distance—one more light amongst a sea of celestial bodies. ADIM wasn’t worried. Cassius was going to come for him, as was planned. He just had to make sure everyone thought he was dead.

  He and his Creator had always worked from the shadows, but this strategy was far more direct. Now that ADIM had seen the nest of the Ceresians firsthand, he was beginning to understand why that was necessary without needing explanation. His Creator had far too many adversaries. They would all need to be removed eventually to see his will enacted. Every Ceresian leader and every Tribune. Every single one.

  ADIM’s scanners registered a slew of incoming ships. He recognized one of them immediately since he’d recently been a part of it, just as he’d been a part of the android on Ceres.

  He twisted his head around, expecting to see the White Hand, but it wasn’t there. Instead, there was a fleet of Ceresian vessels. They had a raw look to them like the interiors of Ceres—plated, imperfect, clunky. Nothing like Cassius’ ship.

  The largest of them was painted with navy highlights and had the Morastus symbol printed on its side—two fangs extending down from beneath a set of predatory eyes. It was at least ten times the size of all the others, stretching half a kilometer in length. It’s thick bulbous hull had two long bows sprouting from either side of a glassy command deck in the front and center, like claws from a paw.

  It didn’t take long for ADIM to discover that only that ship had proper weapons systems. The others in the fleet were little more than reoutfitted transport vessels and freighters, more fit for mining than war.

  The flagship rotated slowly, and ADIM noticed one of its lower, auxiliary hanga
rs folding open. His path was leading him directly into it. He readied the guns in his arms and shot downward so that the force would alter his trajectory. Once he was close to the ship, he grabbed onto the top lip of the hangar’s airlock, magnetized his chassis, and crawled in along the ceiling. The outer seal closed behind him, and as the inner one opened, he saw what awaited him. Docked inside sat the White Hand, its engines still warm.

  Zaimur Morastus has claimed it as his own, ADIM thought.

  He scuttled upside-down into the hangar and located two heat signatures below him. He studied their heartbeats and the way their skin radiated warmth, and was able to identify them as Zaimur and Cassius. His Creator’s pulse wasn’t heightened, but it rarely was.

  ADIM demagnetized and crashed down between them. He held out his weaponized arm to take aim at Zaimur. The man nearly fell over he was so shocked.

  “ADIM!” Cassius exclaimed. He was back to wearing his usual violet tunic, armed as well. “Forgive us for taking so long. There was a long-awaited funeral to attend before we could depart Ceres.”

  “Safe and sound, as promised, Vale,” Zaimur muttered. “Now, would you mind instructing your bot to lower his weapons while he is aboard my ship?”

  “Of course,” Cassius replied, as calm and collected as ever. “ADIM, welcome to the private hangar aboard the Hound’s Paw. There is no threat here.”

  ADIM gave the room one last quick scan before being satisfied. As always, his Creator was in complete control. He shouldn’t have been concerned.

  “Yes, Creator,” ADIM replied. He lowered his arm and finally allowed his holographic camouflage to dissipate and reveal his true form.

  “I must say, I’m impressed,” Zaimur said. “They say my father went with no pain. Peacefully. I thank you for that, android… ADIM.”

  “This unit was instructed not to allow detection.”

  “Still. He’d suffered enough.”

  “It isn’t every man who’s willing to do what he must,” Cassius said. “Your father, in the time I fought him, would have been proud of you.”

  “Don’t talk like you knew him,” Zaimur said, a hint of irritation entering his tone.

  Cassius grunted in response. Then he ran his fingers over ADIM’s back. ADIM turned his head all the way around as well to see the countless scratches along the rear of his chassis.

  “ADIM, what have they done to you?” Cassius asked.

  “I assure you it’s nothing that can’t be fixed,” Zaimur answered.

  “I’ll have you cleaned up.”

  “No, I’ve held up my end, Vale,” Zaimur snapped before ADIM could respond. “Now it’s your turn.”

  Cassius turned to Zaimur and sighed. “Very well. ADIM, transfer the last recorded coordinates of the Tribunal fleet over to the Hound’s Paw.”

  “Yes, Creator,” ADIM said, approaching the control console for the hangar’s airlock.

  “You’ll need the transmission codes,” Zaimur said.

  Cassius chuckled.

  ADIM extended his fingers over the console. The lights on it dimmed, and ADIM’S processors whirred as he dug through the systems of the Hound’s Paw. After what amounted to ten-point-three seconds in real time, he’d uploaded the latest contents of the Vale Protocol into its computer database.

  Zaimur’s brow furrowed. “By the Ancients. How did he—”

  “Experience,” Cassius replied. “You never really did figure out who was behind knocking those Tribunal freighters off the Circuit, did you?”

  “That was you?”

  “ADIM and I were attempting to get under their skin, but they didn’t want to publicly announce it was the work of a former Tribune, so they laid blame on your people,” Cassius lied.

  The Creator is attempting to deepen the rift between the factions, ADIM thought. He knew that the Tribune hadn’t learned of his existence until well after the last freighter theft.

  Zaimur rubbed his jaw. “So they bombed Kalliope in retaliation for attacks they knew you were responsible for?”

  “While they simultaneously attempted to have myself and ADIM killed. In my own home. You see, Tribune Benjar Vakari craved this war as much as you do. More so even. To finally have a reason to convince the council to assassinate me and conquer the asteroid belt—that was his plan all along. I walked right into it when I started cutting off his personal gravitum supply.”

  Zaimur clenched his jaw and squeezed his fists. “That scheming bastard,” he seethed. “That’s the truth?”

  “Every word,” ADIM interjected. From his study of the androids on Ceres, he’d discovered that their rudimentary programming didn’t allow for them to comprehend the idea of lying. Agreeing with Cassius vocally was the least he could do to help Zaimur be convinced.

  Cassius shot him a sidelong look before turning his attention back to Zaimur. “Listen to me, Zaimur,” he said. “With Tribune Gressler dead, Vakari will be in complete control of the Tribune. He suspected me from the beginning, and because he was right, the others will now cede to his wishes. He will drive this war, and while he may not be my equal, I once served directly under him. He learned a lot watching me win the last war.”

  “I’m growing tired of listening to you pat yourself on the back, Vale,” Zaimur growled. “Out with it. After what you just told me, I’m beginning to regret this alliance.”

  “The reason you lost the last war was because your Pact has always had too many people deliberating over what course to take. You need an uncompromising leader. To win, you must gain the complete support of the clans.”

  Zaimur laughed. “Now that’s a lot to ask. As it is, Kalliope was Morastus-controlled. Maybe when the others feel the Tribune’s bite, they’ll be more willing to listen.”

  “True. There are many clans. But power is limited to few. The Ventiss were indecisive even when I fought them decades ago. They will follow the majority. Thanks to ADIM, you, and only you now, control your clan. Win over Yara Lakura’s complete trust, and all the others will follow.”

  Zaimur stopped following. “That’s your secret plan? Yara Lakura?” He blinked. “I assure you, her knife has dulled over the years. Maybe she trusted my father, but me? Is an alliance not enough?”

  “ADIM, show him the map,” Cassius said.

  ADIM held out an open palm. The emitters along his arm and hand rotated to display the map of the Circuit, and tiny red signatures indicated where the Tribunal ships were located.

  “This is the last update obtained by the White Hand, Creator,” ADIM stated. “As of twenty-one hours and six minutes ago, your connection has been severed.”

  “It’s about time they wised up,” Cassius said. “It was useful while it lasted.”

  “You’re not showing me anything new,” Zaimur said, approaching the map and studying it from every angle. He didn’t appear pleased. “The ships have barely moved since the last time.”

  “ADIM, inform Zaimur exactly where Benjar Vakari’s fleet was heading.”

  ADIM reached out with his free hand and traced a line from the largest cluster of red toward a tiny asteroid on the edge of the asteroid belt. “Their vector indicates that they are headed for the Tribunal shipyard colony of 5261 Eureka.”

  “The same place where Yara Lakura intends to surprise them. Eureka is in a crucial position, already prepped to allow the Tribune to continually repair and reinforce their fleet.”

  “I’m well aware of Eureka’s advantages,” Zaimur said.

  “Well, that is where the Lakura army headed. Whether Benjar is going there to prepare his invasion, or his hidden executors have informed him of her plan, I’m not sure. But—”

  Zaimur cut him off. “She’s going to be slaughtered when they arrive…” His mouth hung open as he focused on the size of Benjar’s fleet.

  “Not if we get there in time,” Cassius assured him. He placed his hand on Zaimur’s arm and turned him away from the map. “We won’t attempt to engage the Tribunal fleet directly, but we will enter the battle,
ravage Eureka so that the Tribune can’t use it, and flee with as many as we can save. History will call it a slight loss, but Benjar Vakari is short on temper. He will be infuriated by missing out on his massacre worthy of Lutetia.”

  Zaimur’s eyes glinted. “And more liable to make mistakes. Yara will be indebted to me.”

  “It won’t matter how dull her blade is after that. Ceres will unite behind your lead. Since we cannot win this war with force, we must chip away at the Tribune until they unravel.”

  Zaimur clapped his hands. His smile stretched from ear to ear. “Brilliant, Vale! I should’ve known better than to doubt you. I’ll inform my men immediately.” He wheeled around and hurried out of the room.

  “You will have the White Hand at your service,” Cassius called after him.

  Zaimur stopped and looked back. “No. You will remain with me in command here aboard the Hound’s Paw. Only my most trusted men will have access.”

  “Of course I will,” Cassius replied, bowing his head. “ADIM will be in control of the ship. Its weapons systems will prove valuable in crippling the asteroid.”

  Zaimur stared at the android for a few seconds before nodding. “Very well. He’s proven useful so far. I’ll send for you when we depart.” Zaimur took one last look at the map of the Circuit, gritted his teeth, and continued on his way.

  “Very useful indeed,” Cassius whispered. He faced ADIM, grabbed him by the sides of his face and grinned. “You were quite convincing on Ceres. For a moment, even I feared I might’ve been dead.”

  “Never,” ADIM stated categorically.

  Cassius stepped back, his brow furrowing. “You still don’t trust him, do you? Every time he looked at me, I noticed you were prepared to shoot him down.”

  “No. This unit witnessed his followers celebrating your death. They pelted what they assumed was your body with rocks and rubbish.”

  “They are fools.” Cassius walked ADIM toward the White Hand’s ramp. “By now, the Tribune will have likely heard through their executors of my passing. They will celebrate as well.” Cassius stopped, grasping ADIM’s arm and opening up the compartment on it. He removed his comm-links and placed them in his ears. “We will make them rejoice when they find out that I’m alive and well.”