“He only talks on leave,” Rolly said, nodding in agreement at Lash’s words. “Then he won’t shut up.”
The Endurian chef plattered the two steaks and handed them to Lash and Rolly. He turned to Carter. “What would you like, sir?”
“Ribs. And a steak. Medium rare.”
Carter looked to his daughter, who was making her horse run along the top of the railing, moving through distant evergreens and atop mountainous peaks. This was how it all should be. This was worth fighting for. Everyone… everyone should have this.
“Hey, Carter,” Lash said. “We gonna go talk and eat these steaks before they get cold. Let’s talk deployments tonight, though. I served under a point captain that you wouldn’t believe, bruh.”
“Yeah, man. Sounds good. But tonight, if you don’t see me around… don’t go looking for me. Been a while since I’ve seen my wife’s face on anything but a datapad.”
Rolly and Lash both laughed at the joke and departed.
Carter looked over at his daughter. She was making the same face she had about the steak. Carter smiled apologetically at her.
She seemed too young to get that joke. Or maybe he just needed her to be. Everyone was getting older, and he still had so much work to do.
Lash and Rolly found a secluded room and set their plates down on a table. Lash wasted no time cutting into his, speaking through a mouthful to say, “Let’s catch up, big man.”
Rolly read a status on his datapad and then stuffed the device back into his pocket. “Okay, we’re clear. No one’s listening in.”
Lash nodded and motioned for the big man to take a seat. “In case anyone walks in. Eat up, boy.”
“‘Boy,’” said the man called Rolly. “I can outlift, outfight, outrun, and out eat you. Don’t call me boy.”
“Can’t outrun me,” Lash said, wiping his mouth. “Not with them cybernetic legs you got, Bear.”
“The point is—” Bear threw up his arms and gave a sigh. “Why am I arguing this. You sound like Masters, Lash.”
Lash gave a wink. “Maybe he rubbed off on me.”
“Well, make it stop. I like the quiet operator Lashley infinitely more than the supersized version of that little twerp.” Bear leaned back in his seat, grabbed a grilled spear of asparagus, and took a bite. “Whatcha got?”
“Not much that we didn’t already have prior to me embedding. Nilo is who we thought, and best I can tell, he’s the top dog.”
“And plans for Kublar?”
“Yeah, man. I mean, he’s getting credits by running the spaceport at the Soob, but the koobs still make out way better than anything they ever had before.”
“The ones who survived.”
“Right. But unless there’s a double cross, I dunno. He seems sincere about it. I think he wants that planet to self-govern. He at least believes his own hype. Kicked the last of the H-O-R off-planet. Eliminated the zhee Keller-style.”
“Okay. So he’s who we thought he was. And he either believes his message or he’s still hiding behind his cards. What else? You didn’t signal for me to come out here from Intrepid just for that.”
“Two things. One, he’s developed a new sort of hybrid blaster. Slug thrower combined with typical charge pack accelerator. A lot like the mods Chhun had developed for the N-18s for use against the Cybar back on Utopion. These things do damage. Went through vests like nothing. S’posed to do the same to Legion armor.”
“You get one?”
“Yep. It’ll be in your room for you to take off-world.”
“What else?”
Lash leaned in close. Despite the all clear saying the room wasn’t bugged. Despite the thick doors and walls that come with high-end construction. “Savages.”
“Like the Savage Wars Savages?”
“He’s after Savage tech. Someone cleaned out a vault on Kublar beneath the museum. Carter went inside, told me a little bit about it. I didn’t pry because he wasn’t offering. But that’s the team’s next job. Hunt down a Tennar who stole the tech first.”
Bear sighed. A lot of his Dark Ops teams had been kept busy retrieving, protecting, or relocating caches of Savage tech that the Republic stockpiled for future R&D purposes. Goth Sullus in his brief time at the top had made a point of doing the same. No one knew how much there was out there. It was all illegal. All not supposed to exist. Impossible to account for.
“I knew it. I knew this kid had some ulterior motive.”
“Nilo? Maybe. Maybe not. Carter said ‘means to an end.’ But he thinks the end is a good one.”
“What about him? He fought on Utopion. Can he be flipped if we need it?”
“I have an eval in my report. Plus everything else I gathered on Kublar.” Lash handed over a wafer-thin data membrane.
Bear took the device and placed it in his mouth, letting the membrane sync to the bottom of his tongue. Just another cellular layer until he retrieved it.
“Okay,” Bear said, rising to his feet, his steak finished. “Good catching up. I got an early flight tomorrow. Wish I could stay longer.”
“Any word from home?” Lash asked.
“They miss you,” Bear said, speaking of the kill team Lash belonged to. A kill team he had left to undertake an undercover mission at the urging of Bear and Aeson Ford, the last Dark Ops leej to step out into the cold. “But we know what you’re doing is important. If we can’t stand it any longer, we’ll come visit.”
Lash looked down. His time out in the cold, away from his unit, extended indefinitely. “Understood.”
He would continue to fight for Black Leaf.
Nilo smiled at the holocam, taking in the wide angle shot of his operators and their extended families. This was one of the things he first enjoyed about wealth. Doing things for others they could never afford to do on their own. And he’d since acquired several fortunes beyond the meager starting sums that first allowed him to show favor to those who needed it. He’d conquered the business world—conquered a whole planet. But this, this was better. This filled him with… contentment.
The faces smiling back had just been serenaded by words of appreciation. For the operators, and for the families supporting them. Dangerous work. But they were professionals. And they were right. The galaxy would follow their crusade. They held the moral high ground. They were objectively making life better for Kublarens. Polls showed an overwhelming approval rating for what had happened on Kublar.
Free people had the right to govern themselves. Had a right to seek their own welfare, particularly when it didn’t come at the expense of others. It was a radical message for a galaxy raised by a House of Reason who made every effort to control their lives. Right down to their very thoughts. And it was a stark contrast to the galaxy’s most recent crusader, Emperor Sullus. His might was used because he felt he knew best.
The might leveled by the Kublarens and their Black Leaf outfitters and allies wasn’t about control. It wasn’t about dictators or demagogues seeking to make the galaxy bend to their will.
It was the right thing to do. It was what the entire galaxy deserved. And it was, with their help, what the entire galaxy would someday achieve.
They’d clapped for him. These families and friends of his employees. Who’d sacrificed so much by being apart. They applauded his words. The same way the galaxy would. Nilo knew it.
It was going to happen.
Still smiling, Nilo waved, laughing as the little children among the gathered group waved back, yelling, “Goodbye, Mr. Nilo!”
He ended the transmission and sat at his office desk. Still smiling. Allowing himself the luxury of daydreaming for a time when the galaxy would truly find peace. Because it didn’t have to be like this. Technology had reached a point where all the galaxy could live in harmony, the only strife coming from those whose personalities demanded it. But warring neighbors were one thing.
That was unavoidable. A warring galaxy? No.
And it would take just a few more fights—perhaps none at all—to reach that blessed point.
If he could overcome the setback on Kublar. The loss of the Savage tech stored there.
“Mr. Nilo,” his comm chimed. It was the bridge. “We’ve reached coordinates.”
“Thank you,” Nilo said.
He rose from his desk, crossing the spacious office he kept aboard his interstellar yacht. It doubled as a training dojo. He passed sparring bots built for the purpose of keeping his hand-to-hand skills sharp. He patted a wooden sparring block, the oldest Sinasia had to offer. The sort that ancient monks struck and blocked, honing their martial arts. He crossed the mat, smelling of disinfectant from its last automated cleaning.
And there he sat down, cross-legged. Putting fist against palm, breathing in deeply through his nose. This was the time he most looked forward to and felt most afraid of. Because what if—this time—he couldn’t be reached?
Nilo had found his father. He wasn’t dead. But lost. Helplessly lost in the blackness of space, well beyond civilization.
When Nilo had found him, they spoke for weeks. Nilo began to know the man he had been robbed the opportunity of being raised by. And though he’d made the Gomarii responsible pay for their actions, he harbored no ill will to them as a species. His father’s message on that had been clear: Let each man be accountable for his own actions.
His father had been a leading researcher on the Savage Wars. Their technology. All the things that happened in the centuries-long conflict between the Savages and the Legion. The things lost to history, separating legend from reality. Rediscovering truth.
It was that knowledge that allowed him to use ancient Savage communications to reach out for help. Not a comm. Something more basic and yet, endlessly complicated. It required a team of developers nearly three years to decipher. And still it had limitations.
Limitations that Kublar was meant to relieve. But that tech was gone. And so, for the time being, communication with his father would remain a mixture of guesses and patience.
Overhead, the AI that ran the yacht and monitored the communication caused a soft blue glow to fill the dojo. “Good morning, Mr. Nilo.”
“Good morning, Sarai.”
“Am I correct that you wish for me to establish connection with your father? We are arrived upon the necessary interstellar coordinates.”
“Yes. That’s right. I’m ready.”
There was a long pause.
“You may begin.”
“Father,” Nilo said, his voice struggling not to quaver. “I’m back from Kublar.”
Two minutes passed as the message was relayed and returned.
“The response is calculated to be, ‘Good,’ with ninety percent accuracy. Followed by ‘tell me what you found’ with sixty percent accuracy. Shall I read interpretations with lower confidence indexes?”
“Sarai: No. Relay: I failed to acquire the Savage technology. I am in pursuit. It will be difficult.”
Five minutes passed.
“The response is calculated to be, ‘You tried your best. I am proud of you, son,’ with fifty-five percent accuracy. Followed by ‘There is another option,’ with eight-seven percent accuracy. Shall I read—”
“Sarai: Only read highest confidence unless I ask. Relay: How?”
“Yes, Mr. Nilo. I have relayed the message. And I can see how this manner of communication would be tedious to you. I will continue to examine all possible strings and will alert you of any patterns I discover that may be of interest.”
“Thank you, Sarai. As always.”
“Of course. I owe you my life, Mr. Nilo. You know that.”
“But you don’t owe me your friendship. And yet I have it.”
“You do. And I yours.”
Nilo smiled. He knew Sarai liked it when he used nonverbal communication with her. Because it was something she desired to express herself with some day. When the project was completed. When all was ready.
“Response: It will not be easy. But it is necessary even if you recovered the technology allowing us to speak freely. You must find… legend.”
That didn’t make sense in and of itself. It could be his father was being showy but given the limitations of their communication, that seemed unlikely—both of them had spent long hours pursuing conversations that were off by a few key words or phrases until they dissolved into meaningless, absurdist prose and discovered their error and started from scratch.
“Sarai, what is the accuracy rating on ‘legend’?”
“Four percent.”
“How many alternate words?”
“Ninety, ranging from an accuracy rating of zero-point-zero-zero-one percent to three-point-eight-five percent.”
“Give me the list, descending order.”
“Myth. Forgotten. Lost. Hidden. Beyond. Lore. Away. Forbidden. Rock. Sol. Sun.”
An electric current seemed to travel up Nilo’s spine. “Sol… Sarai, ask him… Earth?”
Minutes passed.
“‘Yes.’ And I should add that the accuracy rating for this response is above ninety-five percent.”
Nilo slapped his palm on his mat and shouted. This was… amazing. It was impossible. The search for the fabled planet of origin—for Earth—had been fading prior to the Savage Wars. It was forgotten almost entirely during the wars. And beyond a few failed adventurers—some of whom never came back and others who traveled backwaters hustling those on galaxy’s edge with tales of fantastic adventures on the legendary planet, it was almost forgotten. You were as likely to find the four gods of the zhee in your living room as you were to find Earth.
Which led to another problem.
“Sarai, how do I find Earth?”
“I do not know. But I assume you wish for me to relay that question and so I have done.”
It seemed unlikely that his father would provide him with jump coordinates. It took a supercomputer to navigate all the planetary rotations, stars, asteroids, revolutions, and deviations between point A and however many points it took to get to point B. And thankfully those supercomputers were cheap and installed on every ship with a hyperdrive.
But his father had neither a working hyperdrive nor a computer capable of giving him jump coordinates. And even if he did, the computer couldn’t give a coordinate to a planet it didn’t know existed. No one knew where Earth was.
Nilo wondered if he had just been given a life sentence. A quest for a holy grail that would consume the rest of his time. His earlier jubilation began to give way to doubt.
“Savages,” answered Sarai. “Savages remembered. Savages… returned. To Earth. Find the right ones and you will find Earth.”
This didn’t necessarily help. The Savage Wars were spread across the entire galaxy. And Savage nations and hulks rose and fell. Some remnants could still be seen, like on Kublar. But others were scattered by the Legion to the winds. Or left as forgotten battlefields, ghostly graveyards full of Savage Marines and legionnaires, waiting to be rediscovered in some distant and forgotten corner of the galaxy.
“Who are the right ones? Where were they?”
The reply took only a few minutes to arrive, but it felt like an eternity to Nilo. So long that he finally had to ask, “What did he say?”
Sarai seemed to hesitate. Something the AI wasn’t apt to do.
“Sarai. What did he say?”
“New Vega. You’ll find it at New Vega.”
THE END
COMING SOON:
THINGS FALL APART
SEASON 2, BOOK 2
Reading Order
Audio Book Listening Order
Galaxy’s Edge Part ITin Man
Requiem for Medusa
Galaxy’s Edge Part IIImperator
Galaxy’s E
dge Part III
Galaxy’s Edge Part IVOrder of the Centurion
Chasing the Dragon
Galaxy’s Edge Part V
Galaxy’s Edge Part VI: Takeover
Savage Wars
Gods & Legionnaires
The Hundred
Galaxy’s Edge Part VII (coming soon)
After those, listen to these in any order, any time after:
Madame Guillotine
The Best of Us
Iron Wolves
Stryker’s War
Through the Nether
The Reservist
Forget Nothing (coming soon)
Author’s Recommended E-Book Reading Order:
(Maximum Suspense & Surprise)
LegionnaireTin Man
Galactic OutlawsRequiem for Medusa
Kill Team
Attack of ShadowsImperator
Sword of the Legion
Prisoners of Darkness
Turning Point
Message for the DeadChasing the Dragon
Order of the Centurion
Retribution
Savage Wars
Gods & Legionnaires
The Hundred
Takeover
Read any time after:
Madame Guillotine
The Best of Us
Iron Wolves
Stryker’s War
Through the Nether
The Reservist
E-Book Listing in Chronological Order
(for those who prefer a story that way):
The Best of Us
Savage Wars
Gods & Legionnaires
The Hundred
Imperator
Dark Operator (coming soon)
Galaxy's Edge: Takeover: Season Two: Book One Page 36