by Dan O'Brien
The safety hatch was on the opposite side of the control room, and the view port had frosted over from direct contact with the deep freeze of space. Wei pressed the release mechanism on the temperature panel.
The door hissed, and then cracked. The cold air hit the warm air of the control room and condensed. Their clothes were drenched from the temperature change, and in moments they had retaken their seats.
Captain Arudi opened the frequency line to the Debilitator and saw the darkened face of Rider flash onto the screen. “I have subdued the control room and the second squadron. I have locked them in the security pen where they will await docking on Verdule for subjugation and sentencing. I will pilot, following your lead, Captain,” called Rider across the cackling frequency.
“Very well. I will restore the ship and reset course for Verdule,” replied Arudi as he negotiated the control panel and adjusted their trajectory. Tissler worked diligently beside him, pressing glowing panels and twisting various knobs to initiate the core and thrusters.
“Debilitator out,” called Rider.
The frequency closed, ending the conversation. Shadows of space returned to the view screen. Arudi turned to the Supreme Council and Erinana. He tilted his head as if anticipating some kind of response. “Well, Supreme Council Damon, are we ready to depart?”
“Let us be on our way, by all means. I fear we have much to discuss with the council,” replied Damon, his eyes narrowing and his face shadowing with a distant gaze.
“Is something the matter?” asked Erinana, placing her slender hands on Damon’s robes.
Damon looked down at the placement of her hand so delicately on his own and wondered how wonderful it would be to have her. He dismissed the thought quickly, knowing that she could read his mind. Clearing his throat, he adjusted his robes nervously.
“Nothing more than there was before. We have a mole in our midst that must be dealt with,” replied Damon, his hands clamming up and his brow sweating slightly. Erinana merely smiled and returned her gaze to a passing star. Arudi nodded and swiveled back to the view screen. He set course for Verdule.
* * * * *
Rider sat back in the captain’s chair at the control station and peered into space. His thoughts drifted to the day’s events. The rumble of the core startled Rider, and he swiveled quickly to the captain who sat tied up.
James Rider.
The voice seemed to come from the captain, but his lips had not moved. Rider watched the captain and fitted him with a puzzled look.
“Did you say something?” inquired Rider, his curiosity piqued. The captain didn’t reply, only met Rider’s gaze with hatred. “I said, did you say something?”
“You are hearing things, fool,” replied the captain, unable to afford the tone to give edge to his meaning.
James Rider, you cannot escape it.
The voice came again, this time louder and clearer. It seemed to come from all directions, even from within. It was unlike anything he had ever heard before. He searched the room with his eyes, roaming for something to affix the voice to.
“Do not play with me,” called Rider. He stood now, his legs pumping with anticipation and his hand squeezed tightly, as if expecting an attack from behind. “I’m warning you, Sadon.
“You are going mad,” replied Sadon curtly, his voice returning to him. Rider was staring at him as though he was looking right through him.
“Have no delusions. You are not getting off this ship or out of my custody,” Rider’s countenance returned. He was still in control of the ship, and would not lose it to some phantom of his mind.
“You will never capture Xzin. He will succeed where all others have failed.” Sadon’s face was twisted into an evil sneer. His hands writhed against the binders that held him; his face sweated pale blue moisture as he struggled. “My master will never be defeated by a mortal. You will fail, human.”
“Is that so?” laughed Rider. “Then why did you get caught today?” Sadon stopped moving, and his face slackened. Rider continued. “That’s what I thought. Just keep quiet until we reach Verdule. You can say whatever you want to the interrogators.”
Time will catch up to you, and when it does, you will fall.
Rider jumped and drew his plasma staff, the emerald energy billowing off its tip. Rider swung it one way, then another, and turned back to where the prisoner sat. “I warned you, Sadon, your sadistic mind games will not work on me. You will be silent, or you will not make it to Verdule with your crewmates.”
Kawe Sadon, pride of the Baldorian Navy, sat motionless and stared into the fierce face of Rider. He swallowed hard, knowing full well there was no way to placate the man.
“I said nothing and will not say anything. I do not know what you hear, but it is not me,” whispered Sadon, his face showing lines of fear.
Rider turned and tossed his plasma staff against the captain’s chair. He sat back down. There were no more whispers in his mind, but something ate away at Rider’s consciousness as they drifted through space.
“The wisest man does not know the way to the enlightened path, nor does he know what comes at the end. All he needs to know is how to walk the path. Only then will he forever be in the graces of Fate.”
-Final words of Exodus, millennia before the First Age of Chaos
Wings of the State deployed its landing gear, the suspension hissing as the craft settled on the ground. The occupied Baldorian ship landed alongside. Debilitator dwarfed the smaller State ship.
A crowd made its way toward the two ships as the atmospheric hatches opened. Wei and Mela came first, guarding Supreme Council Damon and Ambassador Erinana. Captain Arudi came next, followed by Lieutenant Tissler.
Rider held his rifle at mid-level and walked Captain Sadon and his crew down the deployment ramp. A group of security officers scuttled to Rider and gave him a quick salute.
“We have come to relieve you of the traitors from the Debilitator.” The man spoke in quick, flustered tones, and his rifle shook slightly in his hands. “I am captain of security for the council, and we shall take them to be judged.”
Rider pushed Sadon forward with the butt of his rifle. He caught the man off guard. Sadon turned quickly and shot him a glance of pure, unadulterated hatred.
“Watch them closely,” commented Rider.
The security force moved the crew from Debilitator and disappeared around the assembly building. Rider turned in disgust as he saw Robert Welvon making his way toward him, the councilman’s robes could not conceal his zeal for gluttony.
“James Rider, I presume.” Welvon’s words bit against Rider’s better judgment to reply with sarcasm.
“Yes, sir.”
“I assume that the Supreme Council was not hurt?”
“Supreme Council Damon is safe. They have docked already.” Rider felt his patience running thin for the councilman.
“Then what am I talking to you for?” Welvon’s words were no sooner out than he spun on his heels and marched away.
Supreme Council Damon stood with the lovely ambassador from Nemodtia. Welvon’s bulk moved closer, and he cleared his throat to get their attention. “We feared the worst, but it seems you have been returned safely,” said Welvon. He attempted to escort the Supreme Council into the chambers.
“Dispense with the false pleasantries, Councilman Welvon,” replied Supreme Council Damon as he removed his brown hood. “It was an ambush that could only have come from within. Only the joint council and Supremator Nama knew about my diplomatic journey. Somewhere along the line there is a leak. The only reason I escaped was because of Alpha Zero.”
“Have relations been reached with the Nemodtians?” hissed Welvon. He hated Nemodtians with all of his being. They were the only people that had ever denied Welvon what he wanted.
“On the contrary,” began Damon. He reached behind, grasped Erinana’s hand, and moved her into Welvon’s view. “They have sent an ambassador and agreed to sign the UFPS charter. May I introduce you to their co
uncil member of choice.”
Welvon’s eyes bulged. “Well,” he stammered to recover, “I am glad to hear that Nemodtia is going to participate in the affairs of all the free people of the universe. I imagine that she will be joining us today for the vote on the Baldor mission?” His facial features revealed his flustered nature. “Please allow me to convey to the members of Alpha Zero our most sincere gratitude for delivering the Supreme Council and the distinguished ambassador from Nemodtia to safety. Councilman Damon, Erinana, if you would please follow me.”
Rider nodded to the vanishing figures.
The air grew thin as night approached, and the hillside showed their shadows hanging like a fog on the distance. The three Alpha Zeros walked slowly together. Mela grabbed Rider’s arm and hugged him. Rider shook her slightly, as if rocking her. He kissed her lightly on the head.
“Not bad for a day’s work, huh?” laughed Mela, poking him in the ribs and jumping back out of his reach.
“It went pretty smooth considering,” replied Rider, his eyes focusing far off into the distance.
“Considering what?” shot back Mela.
“Considering the Baldorians could have just blown us away instead of boarding; considering a lot of things, I guess.” Rider never moved his gaze from the horizon, even when Supremator Nama casually walked up and gave each of them a hearty handshake.
Nama was a recognizable man.
He patted Rider on the back and let out a sigh. “You were great today. We knew someone was after Supreme Council Damon, as well as the joint council,” said Nama without hesitation.
“There was something strange about the whole ordeal though,” responded Rider absently.
“How so?”
“They were waiting for us, like they expected us to come. It was as if they knew exactly where we were going and didn’t bother to try to destroy us. They merely boarded with the intent of capturing the ambassador.” Rider always had a good sense of things, and this was a red flag, in his mind, that something was not right.
“There is a debate in the council right now about an attack on Baldor’s moon, and after today, you three are the prime candidates for the job.” Nama’s words echoed hollowly in Rider’s mind as if they had not been said at all.
“Then I imagine we shall have to be ready by tomorrow or the following day,” Mela cut in, sensing that Rider was somewhere else.
“Is there any discussion? Will you accept the mission?”
The three members of Alpha Zero shook their heads in agreement. “Then get back to base and enjoy your last shore leave,” Nama spoke with grave seriousness.
“We understand, sir,” replied Wei, stepping forward. “We’ll be ready tomorrow for the assault.”
Supremator Nama turned and waved farewell to the members of Alpha Zero, wondering what was to become of the mission at hand.
* * * * *
Two guards flanked Sadon and dragged him down the corridors of the Justice Building. He’d been beaten fairly badly. If he revealed the information they wanted, he’d been told there would be no more pain, and he would be sent to incarceration. He spat at their offer, and he now stood at the entrance to pain and suffering. Sadon could feel the pressure in his skull – the contradiction of the wants of his beaten body and the rigid structure that ruled his mind. A certain amount of self-discipline was one thing, but an abandonment of personal knowledge in the face of injury was something else altogether.
They arrived at the entrance to the interrogation chamber, a tarp draped across a dank hole infested with bacteria and rodents. Sadon could not distinguish one guard from the other, his eyes so swollen that he could barely discern two complete figures.
“Captain Kawe Sadon,” a voice called without inflection. Sadon could feel stale breath upon his face. “You have been brought here for attacking Supreme Council Damon. Do you deny this statement?”
“I am a loyal defender of the peace of the Baldorian people. I do as instructed, nothing more,” replied Sadon. He winced as he spoke, the blood beginning to gush again from his dried, cracked lips.
“Aggressions against the Free are taken seriously. You have spilled innocent blood in the depths of space and on the soil of pacifist nations, all in the name of the murderous demon Xzin.” The man’s voice remained flat. He produced a serrated blade, longer than Sadon’s arm and twice as thick with a purple liquid substance smeared across the tip.
“I have nothing to say to you.”
Sadon’s words echoed in the little room. He could already feel the stinging and numbing sensation of the blade tearing through his flesh.
“You will think otherwise when we have finished with you,” replied the interrogator. Sadon saw a vicious smile creep across the pale, cold features. “All is forgiven when we are done.”
The man shoved the blade along Sadon’s jaw, crushing bones beneath the brutal blade. Sadon tried to resist, but his hands were bound and his legs were strapped to the makeshift chair. Leg bindings dug into his skin, drawing blood as he maneuvered his body against the pain. Sadon screamed, his head pulsing from the deep wound.
The other man approached and dabbed the wound with fabric, stopping the overflow of crimson life force. The man thrust forward again and cut along the inside of Sadon’s thigh, hitting a major artery.
“What is wrong with you? If you kill me, I can’t tell you anything,” pleaded Sadon.
“You already claimed to have no intention of telling me anything. I might as well have a little fun as I watch you die.”
Sadon swallowed hard and spit in the man’s face.
The man jerked back quickly and swiped at the mucus with the woven fabric. He flashed a row of uneven, golden-stained teeth, each more crooked than the last. “You will now feel the wrath of the State, old one.”
“What is the meaning of this?” roared a voice from outside the chamber. The interrogator stopped and peered at the figure in the archway. Supremator Nama spoke in an infuriated tone. “Untie this man and get him to the medical building.”
Nama’s hands shook violently and his eyes widened in anger at the viciousness he had just witnessed. The absolute lack of remorse and care for another individual made the blood in his veins boil.
The interrogators moved sluggishly and removed the binders on Sadon. They lifted his decimated frame from the booth of despair. He shook uncontrollably, his face drained of all color. The guards each grabbed an arm and negotiated the prisoner back along the hall, past Nama.
“Sir, we were only doing as instructed by Lord Welvon,” spoke the man in low, shallow tones.
“I see.”
Nama brought his right hand up to his face and traced the line of his jaw in thought. The interrogators stood without wavering, their heads hung low in admonishment of their guilt, expecting Nama to lash out in acknowledgement.
“You two are dismissed. From now on, run all prisoner interrogations through my office, before the council, understood?”
“Yes, sir. We understand.” Gathering their tools, they moved quickly past Nama. They made their way from the confines of the torture pit. Shaking his head, Nama watched them go.
* * * * *
The shuttle moved along the track like a snake weaving across land, the movement continual and precise. The interior resembled most State spacecrafts, modern and metallic, no trace of humanity.
The other passengers seemed oblivious, but James Rider could feel a taint in the air, as if something was going to go awry. He looked through the crowd and felt a pang of sadness; his was a life of solitude.
He considered himself a disease or a mistake of creation.
The shadows talked to him, and the land reacted to his emotion. He had a certain control over energy and other intangible things. Other soldiers had shunned him because of this. His powers confused them, and they feared him. Even the council was reluctant to allow him to operate. He’d been told he was just as much a menace as Xzin himself.
The piercing whistle of the shuttle in
fected the air and startled Rider from his thoughts. He rose from his bench and followed Mela and Wei out the sliding doors into the night. The crisp, stagnant air reminded Rider of capital cities the world over, overcrowded and disruptive to the peace within.
Approaching the center of the city, the artificial lights were so bright in contrast to the shadows that it could be mistaken for daytime even on the darkest nights. The streets were littered with the worst sort of scum, inescapable eyes and ears of the city.
Rider stalked ahead of his squadron, ducking his head against the flare of the night. Alpha Squadron moved toward the darker end of the city, hoping to remain anonymous. Details of the Supreme Council’s rescue were being announced on every station on the planet.
The fewer questions they had to answer, the happier they would be. The last thing they wanted was trouble on their night off. They neared the Mooncrest Tavern, a place where soldiers could lay low and spend a decent night without interruption.
Clouds began to gather in the pitch-blackness of the night, and the accompanying thunder could be heard rolling in. A flash of lightning came with the downpour that soaked the metallic walkways and roads. The Mooncrest’s sign glowed pristinely in the wet darkness, and the windows dripped with accumulation from the storm. The night livened as the city’s criminal element crept out from their hiding places.
Wei pushed open the door.
The sounds of gathered masses and music flooded out. Rider and Wei pushed through the congregation of people huddled near the front of the tavern.
Mela rode the path they carved.
Alpha Squadron sat at a back table, far from the entrance and the ears of other customers. The floor was heavily scratched. There was an equal layer of smoke and ion emissions hanging along the ceiling. Rider sat closest to the entrance, his back to all who came into the Mooncrest. Patrons were caught up in their own issues, unconcerned with three plain-looking individuals.