The Arcadia Legacy (MOSAR Book 2)

by C. R. Turner

  Relaxed on Max’s back, I listen to birds and enjoy the warmth of Hati on my face. In a couple of months, it will be too cold to enjoy the outdoors much. When Max finishes drinking, he lifts his head and stares at a couple of birds squabbling in the trees. I catch myself beaming. I’d love to know what goes on inside his head.

  We head home after several hours of walking through the forest and enjoying just being together. I carefully navigate my way home by keeping a close eye on Hati’s low arc across the sky. My stomach rumbles; it must be getting close to dinner time, surely. The rock formations become familiar, and an hour or so later, we make it back to the cabin.

  I direct Max around to the front to find Sam still lounging around, reading her technical book. I’m just about to dismount when I hear a strange rapid chopping noise in the sky. Sam leaps to her feet with her book in hand, walks to the edge of the veranda and scans the sky. A strange aircraft buzzes a couple hundred feet above the cabin. The low-pitched droning it produces is like a pack of industrial fans churning out copious amounts of air. The downdraft buffets us and causes Max to rear up on his hind legs in fright.

  I’ve never seen anything like it before. It’s light grey with a large rectangular fuselage that tapers up at the rear and has four massive motors cantilevered out from the main fuselage on short wing-like struts. As the aircraft slows, the motors rotate from horizontal to vertical, transitioning its flight to a hover. The downdraft buffets the long grass as the craft descends. Sam runs up and stands by our side, while I’m still in the saddle. Sam’s panicked face reflects my own fear. The aircraft lowers its landing gear, and when it touches down a couple hundred feet away, the motors spool down. Each motor has three fifteen-foot-long long blades attached, like knife blades. The fuselage must be a good sixty or seventy feet long, and with the motors parked in the vertical position, it’s at least twenty-five feet tall.

  “What world’s that from?” Sam asks, a quiver in her voice.

  I shake my head. “I have no idea.”

  A large door at the rear of the fuselage slowly lowers, creating a ramp. Two people walk down it and head towards us. One wears a white and grey uniform I don’t recognise, the other an all-black Union striker force uniform. My heart races as I grip Max’s reins tight. I look down at Sam, then back at the approaching men. This is our home. I’m not running anymore.

  “Stay here,” I say to Sam, giving Max a nudge.

  Max’s ears have pricked, and he growls at the two strangers as we trot towards them. I pull on his reins to stop him, then unclip my thigh holster. Max growls even louder – I don’t stop him. The strangers stop dead in their tracks. Scared but slightly curious, I stare them down. Where did they come from? What do they want? Are they friend or foe?

  Chapter 3

  A gold border around the sewn shield on the striker force soldier’s shoulder signifies the rank of prime. The shields of each striker force team are unique, typically animals – his team’s shield is a Raptor. He’s fit to say the least, clean shaven and, I’m guessing, in his late forties. Although he’s not very tall, his solid chest, all-black uniform and boots laced tight, all make him look ready to take on anyone – he’s one of the toughest guys I’ve ever laid eyes on.

  The man in the grey and white uniform, steps forward. “Are you Joel Stinson?” he asks in a foreign accent.

  How could this stranger know who I am? Could the striker scout still be alive? Could he have told the prime where to find us? I can’t imagine ever trusting someone in uniform. My hands are clenched so hard on the reins they hurt. I dismount, lift the reins over Max’s head. Keeping the tips of my fingers on the timber handle of my knife still sheathed in its thigh holster, I step a little closer. Sam runs up behind, grabs my free hand and stands so close, our shoulders are touching.

  Tense, no one speaks until the prime steps forward. “Are you Joel Stinson?” he asks in a clear authoritative voice.

  Unsure if I should tell him anything, I hesitate. “Yeah.”

  I can feel Sam’s eyes staring at me as she squeezes my fingers.

  The prime then asks, “Andrea Stinson’s son?”

  How the hell does he know that? A few seconds go by before I reluctantly reply, “Yeah.”

  The man in the grey and white uniform says, “My name is Teenan. I’m from a race of people called the Makri.”

  “I’m Prime Bradley.”

  “Where are you from?” Sam asks, glaring at Teenan.

  Teenan glances over at me and I add, “This is Sam.”

  “I’m from a planet called Lithion,” Teenan says, his strong accent making him difficult to understand.

  Having never met someone from another planet before, I’m not sure what I expected – not someone so human looking. The only thing alien about him is his strange aircraft.

  Sam asks in a noticeably ticked-off tone, “What do you want?”

  Teenan answers. “The Makri are members of the Galactic Federation, made up of people from lots of planets. The Galactic Federation has been at war with the Talon Union and several other planets for decades. Six months ago, the Union and the Galactic Federation signed a peace treaty … the war is over.”

  Bloody hell! Sam lets go of my hand and covers her mouth with her palm, her other hand clenching her book close to her chest. I never thought I’d live to see the day. For years, the off-world war has perpetuated the civil war between the Union and the Terra Primus Republic Army. Now I wonder if it, too, will be over.

  Teenan adds, “The Makri have helped reform the Terra Primus government, and reconstruction of Paelagus city is already at maximum headway. The Makri and other members of the Galactic Federation have been freighting in building supplies and personnel to help stabilise Terra Primus.”

  Prime Bradley’s expressionless stare runs over Max before returning to me. “We’re putting together a search and rescue mission to a planet called Hikaru where a multi-starship has crashed. Teenan is a pilot and will be joining us. The mission will be made up of a striker force team with, hopefully, a MOSAR attachment. We’d like you and Max to join us.”

  My head jerks back and I frown. A million thoughts go through my head, one of which is: are these two strangers telling the truth? Teenan’s bizarre aircraft is a sure sign at least part of what they’re telling us is true – the Makri aren’t from around here.

  “Why me?”

  “The Union’s been stretched for resources and has had to make some concessions,” Prime Bradley replies. “Hundreds of thousands of lives have been lost in the war. The pandemic a few years ago really broke the Union’s back, and there aren’t any MOSAR canines or riders available. Besides, you crossed the Seration Mountain Range on foot, and you’re the only person to have evaded a scout in the two-hundred-year history of the Striker Division – that’s quite a reputation.”

  In shock, I look up at Max. If it weren’t for him, I never would have reached Arcadia. But how does the prime know I crossed the range on foot? Only the striker scout knew that. Is he still alive? Where is he now? My mind quickly shifts to Max and worry that they’ll try to take him away from me.

  “If I joined you, would Max remain in my care after the mission?” I ask.

  “Of course … once the mission’s over, you’ll both be free to return to Arcadia,” Prime Bradley replies. “We’re not one hundred per cent sure the multi’s on Hikaru, but its last known position was near there. Our mission is to locate the crashed ship and rescue any surviving personnel.”

  I glance at Sam. Like me, she’s just trying to take it all in. I’d be lying if I said I’d never thought about going on MOSAR missions: the excitement of going off-world to far-off places on wild missions to save people’s lives. But even with all my father’s training, I still doubt myself and wonder if I’d be any good to them. A doubt, I don’t know will ever be answered.

  Sam and I just stand there, speechless.

  “There’s more.” Teenan swallows. “The Terra Primus Government and the governmen
t on a planet called Antarum have recently signed a contract. Antarum was on the frontline of a proxy war between the Union and the Galactic Federation and has suffered enormous losses. The Antarum Government has agreed to accept Union prisoners for incarceration in exchange for food supplies and their refugees being permitted to settle on Terra Primus. The multi-starship was supposed to transport the prisoners to Antarum’s moon, Infernum, which is used as a prison colony, then pick up refugees from Antarum. When the ship left Terra Primus, it was carrying two dozen prisoners convicted of war crimes, mostly Union soldiers.” Teenan pauses. “The Union policeman and striker scout who killed your parents are on that ship.”

  My heart skips a beat. Those two scumbags better not get away right when they’re finally being made to pay for what they did. My body tenses as I picture my parents’ faces.

  Prime Bradley elaborates. “The policeman was arrested on another charge and convicted. He was given a life sentence, then confessed to additional war crimes. His confession led to the arrest and prosecution of the striker scout who murdered your father.”

  My hand trembles as Sam clenches it even tighter.

  Bradley glances at the cover of the book Sam is still holding close to her chest. “Starship Electronics and Software Systems?”

  Sam pulls her book in even tighter. “Yeah … my father was an engineer in the SESS.”

  Bradley’s eyebrows twitch higher as he nods. After a moment of silence, Teenan steps forward and holds out a small white ball with a black band around it.

  “You can contact us with this, by turning the two halves in opposite directions. It relays a signal through the Makri nano-satellite system we’ve deployed around Terra Primus.”

  I take the device from Teenan. “Okay.”

  Prime Bradley adds, “The mission will be going ahead, with or without a MOSAR attachment, in two weeks’ time. If you decide to join us, you’ll have to undergo training, so if we don’t hear from you in the next couple of days, we’ll assume you’re not in.”

  Sam and I are both rendered speechless as they walk back to the aircraft. I have so many questions I want answered. Like, how messed up must Antarum be for refugees to be coming here? A minute later, the aircraft motors spool up and blast the long grass with so much downdraft it lies almost flat as it dances about. The aircraft rises with a low-pitched droning while wind blasts in all directions. Once it gains some altitude, the motors rotate into the horizontal position and the aircraft flies away, issuing an occasional hefty thud as the knife-like blades slap the air.

  A tear runs down Sam’s cheek as she asks in a croaky voice, “What are you going to do?”

  I’m overcome with guilt for the secret thrill I feel at considering joining them. As we walk back to the cabin, I realise just how fast my heart’s racing. “I don’t know. Do you believe them?”

  “The Union has been in a state of desperation for years,” Sam says, “drafting anyone they can get their hands on, fighting the TPRA … the manufacturing near my father’s office just kept shrinking over the past few years I was there, till there was hardly anything left. It was probably inevitable to end one day.” Sam glances over. “I can’t believe it’s over.”

  I shake my head. “Me neither.”

  I catch Sam wiping away another tear as we reach the front steps. “Are you thinking about your father?”

  “Yeah … I’m wondering if he’ll come home now, if he’s still alive.”

  The grimace on Sam’s face says it all. While living with the fact that both my parents were murdered is hard, I think living with the uncertainty of whether or not I’d ever see them again would be even harder – like a torrent of emotions just beneath the surface. I would have to be careful not to dig too deep, so everything stayed fine.

  “I don’t want you to go,” Sam says as she wraps her arms around me. “I don’t want to lose you, too.”

  My eyes well up. Sam lets go and we sit on the front steps. “What do you think happened to your father?”

  Sam shakes her head, on the edge of breaking down. We’ve never really talked about it in-depth, and I feel horrible for asking when I see how much pain she’s in.

  She composes herself. “I’m guessing he’s dead. The only other reason I can think for him not returning is that he’s been stranded on a remote planet somewhere.”

  I rub Sam’s back to comfort her. “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m torn,” Sam gasps and wipes her eyes. “I want you to go so you can help bring your parents’ killers to justice, but I can’t lose you … or Max.”

  Max, lying on the grass in front of us, pricks his ears and stares at us. We both chuckle.

  “Maybe your father will come home now,” I say, attempting a smile.

  Sam gives me an even slighter smile before asking, “How dangerous do you think the MOSAR mission on Hikaru would be?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t know … they don’t deploy striker force teams for nothing.”

  Sitting on our front steps, wrapped up tight with one of our spare blankets, I gaze at the stars as they slowly fade. Only the brightest stars are left when Sam walks out and sits by my side.

  “Couldn’t you sleep?” she asks.

  I shake my head, still unable to clear my mind.

  “Neither could I. Think I only just nodded off.”

  We double up our blankets and sit huddled together to share body heat. Max trots around from the side of the cabin and lies at our feet, water dripping from his chin and a slither of ice stuck to his nose.

  “I might take Max for a ride after breakfast,” I say.

  Sam lifts the corner of her mouth as she rubs my back. “Are you going to join the MOSAR mission?”

  I frown. “Are you okay with me going?”

  “I couldn’t stop thinking about it all night,” she says. “I’m scared of losing you but … I think it’s something you should do.”

  I shake my head. “I’d like to … but how can I trust them?”

  “I think all you can do is take a chance and hope they don’t betray your trust. I mean, they’re obviously not interested in forcefully drafting you. They sounded genuine.”

  “I don’t know if I’d be good enough to save someone’s life if it came down to it.”

  “Your father trained you well,” Sam says, “I’ve learnt so much from you. I think you’d do really well as a MOSAR paramedic.”

  “What if I fail? What if someone dies because of me?”

  “You don’t give yourself enough credit. What if you save someone’s life? What if the mission is a success and you end up playing a small part in delivering the prisoners to Infernum? You’d finally have retribution and closure.”

  Max is lying on the grass with his ears pinned back and eyes half closed, taking in what limited heat Hati has to offer as it rises. I must admit, knowing I played a small part in my parents’ killers being jailed for life would be incredible. I probably owe it to my parents to at least try.

  Sam places her hand on my knee. “You crossed the Seration Mountain Range on foot and lived. It took me hours to drive over. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been.”

  “What about you, though?”

  Sam replies, “I know we’re behind on our food stocks, but if you, and especially Max, aren’t here for a month, we’ll have plenty to make it through winter when you return.”

  “I suppose I could bring food back with me as well,” I add.

  “I think you should go,” Sam says, sounding more certain than ever.

  The more I think about leaving Sam, the more my anxiety builds. “You’d be on Arcadia all alone … you wouldn’t have Max for protection either … you wouldn’t be able to venture far from the cabin.”

  “I can look after myself.”

  I smile. “I know … you know I have great confidence in you. But it won’t stop me from worrying about you.”

  “Are you going to join them then?” she asks.

  I look at her, then back at the groun
d. “I need some more time to think about it.”

  Hours later, Max and I arrive at my favourite place on Arcadia – my special place, the place I come to think. From here, I gaze over the pine forests below. They stretch from part way up the mountains right down to the lush green fields surrounding the cabin. And beyond that, there are more pine forests, then the ocean on the horizon.

  Although I’ve always known there are human beings on other planets, Teenan is the first person I’ve ever seen from another world. I wonder about the nature of the Makri’s existence. Did they originally travel to their home world from Terra Primus, or did they evolve independently, and by some universal constant, end up evolving exactly the same as us?

  A snowflake dances through the air – the first of the winter snow has finally arrived. If I join the search and rescue mission to Hikaru, will this be the last time I see this view? What if we actually lose Arcadia, never to return? What if I lose Sam? What if they try to take Max from me? The uncertainty is terrifying.

  I don’t know if I can trust the striker force prime, but I remember something my father once told me: “People will tell you all sorts of things, for all sorts of reasons, but what you choose to believe is up to you.” I was only a child when he said that, but for some reason, I’ve never forgotten it. I think it’s probably time I took a page out of Sam’s book and at least tried to trust someone other than her.

  It’s not long till my mind wanders to the journey that brought us here. This past year, the best year of my life, didn’t come about from giving up or good luck. It came about from the pursuit of the most modest of dreams: of peace and liberty. I know firsthand the effect a single act of kindness can have, and I feel compelled to pass it on. It’s now I realise I have to try. I can’t just sit by, afraid of failure, when I could help the Antarum refugees realise that same dream, and I can’t think of any better way to make the policeman and striker scout pay than by sending them to prison for life.