Dark Space Universe (Book 3): The Last Stand

by Jasper T. Scott

  “I guess their garrison is out on patrol,” Garek said.

  “I guess so...” Lucien replied.

  They landed between the two fighters that had escorted them in, and the canopy of the one in front of them popped open. The pilot hopped out, wearing a black flight suit and helmet. The pilot removed his or her helmet, revealing a green-skinned head with broad masculine features. This was a member of the Faros’ green-skinned caste.

  A slave? Lucien wondered, as Garek powered down the shuttle’s engines. The constant hum of the ship’s drive system diminished to a fading whine, leaving their ears ringing with silence.

  Garek and Addy both stood up from their control stations.

  “Time to meet our hosts,” Garek said. He gestured for Addy to go first. “After you, Lady Tekasi.”

  “Thank you, Lesot. Rikel?” Addy asked.

  He stared blinkingly back, waiting for her to continue. Then he realized that he was blocking her way. “Right,” he said, and moved aside.

  Addy led the way from the cockpit and he fell in beside Garek. On their way aft, they found Brak in the galley, finishing off a pile of raw, reconstituted meat from the fabricator.

  “Time to go,” Lucien said. Brak let out a thunderous belch and rose to follow them. “Hood up, buddy,” Lucien reminded him, and Brak lowered the hood of his shadow robe, concealing his features.

  From the galley they walked into the cargo bay, and through to the airlock. Addy cycled the inner doors open and they all piled in, waiting for her to cycle the outer ones. A moment later, the inner doors shut and the outer ones irised open, followed by the groaning sound of servomotors extending the landing ramp from the back of the shuttle.

  Lucien spied the blue-skinned Faro they’d spoken with over the comms waiting for them on the deck below. Four guards in shiny black suits of armor stood behind him, their faces hidden behind their helmets, and four shadow-robed slaves stood behind them.

  Lucien’s mind flashed back to their original first encounter with Abaddon, where Brak had killed several of his shadow-robed slaves in an attempt to get to Abaddon.

  Fortunately this Faro wasn’t one of the Abaddon clones. He probably would have seen through their disguises in an instant.

  The landing ramp touched the deck below, and Addy started down. “Lord Korvas,” she said as she approached.

  Lucien and Garek followed uneasily in her wake, with Brak bringing up the rear. None of them were armed. Lucien had suggested they arm themselves, but Addy had argued that it might look suspicious for them to bring weapons aboard a friendly station.

  “Welcome to the Nexus,” Lord Korvas replied as Addy reached the bottom of the ramp. His gaze flicked to Lucien and Garek, and then to Brak before returning to Addy.

  “It’s a pleasure to be here,” Addy said.

  Korvas nodded and inclined his body to her in a shallow bow. Addy mimicked that bow somewhat awkwardly, and an even more awkward pause followed.

  “As you can see, we’re shorthanded to deal with the separatists. They were quick to take advantage of the fleet’s absence. They haven’t attacked us yet, but I fear that it is only a matter of time if their demands are not met. Hopefully you can negotiate a peaceful resolution while we wait for our fleet to return from Etheria.”

  Addy nodded. “Yes. I’m confident we’ll be able to do that.”

  “I’m surprised Abaddon was able to send a negotiator so soon, and that you arrived without a more... substantial vessel to convey you here.” Korvas’s glowing green eyes flicked up to their shuttle as he said that.

  “The situation here is precarious, as you say, so I got here as soon as I could. As for my ship, available vessels are few with all of them being summoned to join the war with Etheria. I was lucky to arrange transport aboard a passing vessel. I requisitioned one of their shuttles for the final leg of the journey.”

  Lord Korvas nodded slowly, apparently having bought the lie. “Well, I’m relieved to have you with us. Come, let me show you to your quarters.” The Faro turned and crossed the hangar, heading for a large set of doors in the side of the cavernous space, some fifty meters distant.

  “What are the separatists’ demands?” Addy asked, as she walked up beside their Faro host.

  “That we stop transferring water from Meson One and return the planet to its original orbit. They also want us to pay for the water we’ve already taken in the form of supplies for their fleet. None of that is acceptable to us. The Nexus was expensive enough to build as it is. If we had to forfeit our operation, or pay for the water we’re taking, we’d go bankrupt. Ideally, you’ll find a way to stall the separatists until our fleet returns to deal with them.”

  “Leave it to me,” Addy said. “I won’t disappoint you.”

  “I am sure that you won’t.”

  The hangar doors parted automatically as they reached them, revealing a long gray corridor lined with windows. As they walked down the corridor, Lucien saw that it was actually a bridge crossing over a vast garden—no, a farm, he realized, noting the orderly rows of colorful alien plants.

  Brown, bug-like aliens skittered about, periodically rearing up on their back four legs to pluck ripe fruits and vegetables with their front four. They dropped those foods in hovering metal carts that preceded them down the aisles of crops.

  As Korvas and Addy came to the end of the bridge, another set of doors parted for them, and they proceeded to wind their way through long, dull gray corridors lined with doors. They passed a few blue-skinned, black-robed Faros along the way, and Lucien wondered at their attire. He had yet to see a Faro wearing anything more colorful or stylish. Either the Faros had no concept of fashion, or their robes were a kind of uniform and they had yet to meet any Faro civilians.

  After passing down several more corridors, they came to a broad set of glass doors. Above them a glowing sign read, The Grotto.

  They walked through those doors into a high, circular room. The ceiling was at least ten stories. Walkways with glass railings girded each level, giving access to various doors. A giant crystal tree stood in the center of the room with a translucent, luminous trunk and branches. Broad crystalline leaves sparkled like amethysts and sapphires in the light of the tree’s trunk and branches.

  Lucien wondered if that tree was some kind of living crystal, or just an elaborate sculpture.

  Lord Korvas led them to an elevator on the far end of the lobby, and they all crowded in—except for Korvas’s guards. There was no room for them inside the elevator, so he left them waiting on the ground floor.

  Korvas selected a floor from the control panel and the elevator whisked them up. When it opened and they all walked out, Lucien saw that they were now at the top of the chamber. A transparent dome capped the space above the crystal tree, with some kind of aquarium or water reservoir inside.

  Lucien thought he saw something large and shadowy swimming in there, but it was hard to be sure.

  Lord Korvas led them around the circumference of the level they were on until they reached a golden door. Holographic text identified it as the Grand Suite. Korvas worked the keypad beside the door until a flickering red fan of light snapped out from a black lens above the door. Some kind of scanner? Lucien wondered.

  Korvas stepped aside and turned to Addy, clearly waiting for her to do something. Step in front of the scanner maybe?

  Lucien held his breath, and Addy hesitated.

  “If you please, Lady Tekasi,” Lord Korvas said, and gestured to the flickering fan of crimson light.

  “Of course,” Addy replied and stepped in front of the scanner.

  Lucien held back a grimace, wondering if the scanner would be able to tell that she wasn’t really a Faro.

  The fan of light passed up and down her body, scanning her from head to toe, and then a pleasant chime issued from the control pad, and the door swished open.

  Lucien blinked and swayed on his feet, almost dizzy with relief. Or maybe hunger.

  Lord Korvas nodded to Addy.
“I trust you’ll find the accommodations here adequate, but don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything.”

  Addy nodded. “Thank you, Korvas. Are we the only ones staying in The Grotto?”

  A glimmer of suspicion appeared in Korvas’s glowing green eyes. “Our distress call mentioned that we evacuated all of our non-essential personnel after we received the threat from the separatists....”

  A cold prickle of sweat trickled down Lucien’s back.

  Addy nodded and smiled, as if she’d simply forgotten that detail. “Yes, it was wise of you to do so.”

  Korvas indicated the open door of the suite. “Make yourself comfortable. Tomorrow we travel to Meson One for the negotiations.”

  Addy nodded and walked through the doors. Lucien followed her with Garek and Brak, being careful to avoid Korvas’s gaze. The Faro’s glowing green eyes tracked Lucien disdainfully as he passed through the doors, as if he were some contemptible thing. Lucien supposed that was exactly how the Faros probably saw their slaves.

  Once everyone was inside, Addy fumbled with the control panel to shut and lock the doors behind them. Fortunately, Korvas didn’t stick around to see her furiously tapping random commands into the panel. Eventually she found the right one, and the doors slid shut.

  Garek blew out a breath. “He suspects something.”

  “He left his guards in the lobby,” Addy replied. “That has to count for something.”

  Garek snorted and began wandering around their suite. It was a sprawling, luxuriously appointed space with a jutting balcony with glass walls and floor running along the far side of the living and dining areas.

  Through the glass Lucien saw the gushing waterfall in the center of the Nexus, and he went to stand there and gawk at the view. Meson I hovered directly above, a rippled blue marble streaked with white. Through the glass floor, Lucien saw the blue freckle on the desert planet below. It was partially covered by thick white clouds, and fat ripples marked the surface of the blue—what had to be towering waves caused by the falling water.

  “Amazing...” Lucien whispered.

  Addy and Garek joined him on the balcony.

  “These separatists might be able to help us,” Garek said as he admired the view.

  Lucien glanced at him. “What do you mean?”

  “If they realize that we’re actually mutual enemies of the Faros, they might help us with our mission. If nothing else, maybe they can tell us where the Forge is.”

  “Assuming they know where it is,” Lucien replied.

  Garek shrugged. “At least it’s a place to start. It’s not like we can just ask Korvas. Real Faros would either already know where the Forge is, or they’d know better than to ask because it’s a well-kept secret. Either way we’ll make him suspicious.”

  “The separatists might want us to do something for them in exchange for their help,” Lucien mused.

  Addy glanced at him. “Are you suggesting we sabotage the negotiations in order to make the separatists happy?”

  Lucien nodded. “But without letting Korvas know that’s what we’re doing.”

  “No pressure,” Addy replied.

  “Well, maybe a little,” Lucien said.

  Chapter 19

  Aboard the Etherian Ship, Veritus

  “Captain, we have an incoming message from the Gideon,” the Veritus’s comms officer announced.

  “Patch it through to the holo dome,” Tyra said.

  A familiar head and shoulders appeared on Tyra’s primary display. “Admiral Wheeler here. I’m back aboard the Gideon. Are you ready to go, Captain? I could send someone else.”

  “I’m ready, ma’am.”

  “You should at least wait to have more ships join you.”

  Tyra shook her head. “My ships have already calculated the first jump, and they’ve already been emptied of refugees and crewed with our best officers. We can’t afford to wait for reinforcements. By then the Faros will have jumped somewhere else, and we could lose their trail.”

  Wheeler frowned. “As soon as you execute that jump, you’re going to be in the middle of a firefight. Your children are on board.”

  “You mean like the firefight you’re about to be in here?” Tyra asked. She shook her head. “Stay or go, we’ll be risking our lives, but we need to go, and we can’t afford to deliberate any longer.”

  “Good luck then, Captain,” Wheeler replied.

  Tyra saluted. “We’ll be in touch.”

  Admiral Wheeler returned her salute and ended the comms from her end.

  Tyra gaze snapped to the gunnery control station. “Gunnery, report!”

  “Ready for action, ma’am.”

  “Good. Engineering—set full power to shields.”

  “Aye... Councilor,” the woman sitting there replied.

  “Captain,” Tyra corrected.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Comms, have our ships to stand by to execute the first jump.”

  “All ships standing by,” the comms officer replied.

  “Execute jump!” Tyra ordered.

  The holo dome over the bridge flashed white, and then a clean slate of stars appeared. Tyra called out, “Sensors, report!”

  “Five Etherian ships at seven thousand klicks! It’s the Faros.”

  “Gunnery, what’s the range of our—”

  A flurry of bright red laser beams slashed out of the void and drew a hissing roar from the Veritus’s shields.

  “Weapons free!” Tyra ordered. “Target the engines on their largest vessel—the Concordance,” Tyra added, reading the name off her contacts panel.

  “Aye—weapons firing,” gunnery replied.

  Fat green lasers lanced out from invisible hardpoints—invisible due to the artificially unobstructed view afforded by the holo dome.

  Tyra watched the laser light show going on around them. Green for friendly, red for enemy? Tyra wondered. It was a fair bet. Those colors had to be simulated, since lasers couldn’t actually be seen in space.

  “Enemy ships are launching fighters—and missiles!” the sensor operator reported.

  “Where did they get fighters from?” Tyra asked. The Lost Etherian fleet didn’t have any on board—probably expended long ago in some ages-old battle with the Faros.

  “They must have stocked their ships with their own fighters,” the sensor operator suggested.

  “Great. Gunnery—where are our missiles?”

  “We don’t have any, Captain. All of our launch tubes read empty.”

  “Perfect.” They had five ships to the Faros’ five, all equally classed and equally powerful—except that the Faros had taken the time to re-stock their vessels with their own compliment of ordinance and support ships.

  This was far from a fair fight.

  “Engineering, activate quantum jamming.”

  “Aye, ma’am...” the engineering officer trailed off uncertainly. Trapping one’s enemy was a good strategy if you had them out-gunned, but the reverse was true here.

  “Comms, get me Admiral Wheeler. It looks like we’re going to need those reinforcements, after all.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  Wheeler appeared on the holo dome, a floating head and shoulders overlaying the streaking red and green lasers of the battle going on around them.

  “Is there a problem, Captain?” the admiral said, her eyebrows raised in question.

  “We need—”

  Wheeler vanished in a haze of static, and the crisscrossing laser beams returned.

  “What happened?” Tyra demanded.

  “We lost the connection—the enemy is jamming our comms.”

  Tyra ground her teeth and shook her head. “Looks like we’re on our own. Helm, get us away from the enemy fleet and out of here as soon as our jump drives have finished cooling down.”

  “They’ve activated their jamming fields, Captain. We’re trapped,” the helmsman replied.

  “Then get us out of range!”

  “Yes, ma’am. Coming
about...”

  Tyra shook her head and grimaced. She summoned a tactical map and watched as her five ships turned to flee from an identical five enemy vessels. A horde of smaller, wedge-shaped red blips streamed from the Faros’ capital ships, and an even smaller cloud of glittering red specks preceded them—incoming missiles.

  “The enemy is giving chase,” the helm reported.

  “Engineering, all power to engines! Comms—relay that order to the rest of our ships. Speed is of the essence here.”

  Both officers acknowledged their orders. The range between Tyra’s ships and the enemy ones increased briefly, but stabilized just a few seconds later. The Faros had boosted power to their engines, too.

  We can’t outrun ships with identical drive systems, Tyra mused. That left them outgunned and backed into a corner. Her heart began to race, and her eyes flicked to the recessed stairway leading away from the bridge. Her thoughts went to Theola and Atara. She might be able to escape with them aboard a shuttle if it came to it. Or maybe she could send Brak away with them. Then she remembered the clouds of enemy fighters headed their way. They’ll be chased down and shot to pieces.

  Tyra’s gaze returned to the battle grid and she saw that the cloud of missiles racing toward them had closed to less than a minute of reaching them.

  “Incoming ordinance! ETA fifty-two seconds!” the sensor operator announced.

  “All power to weapons and shields!” Tyra ordered.

  “Aye!” the chief engineer replied.

  “Gunnery—concentrate fire on those missiles!”

  “Point defenses firing...”

  Tyra watched on the battle grid as a flurry of smaller weapons fire stuttered out from her ships, raking through the waved of incoming missiles. Explosions sprinkled the grid with muffled booms, but not fast enough.

  A handful of missiles sailed on to reach each of their ships.

  “Brace for impact!” sensors warned.

  The deck shook and explosions boomed. A panel flashed in the periphery of Tyra’s control station—Damage Report.