Baldwin's Legacy: The Complete Series

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Baldwin's Legacy: The Complete Series Page 38

by Hystad, Nathan


  “Ven, do you know where the Ugna live?”

  “I… none of the acolytes are privy to where they are in the strictest sense of the term, but we are happy to live there,” Ven said.

  “When you were brought there, you were in a shuttle like this?” Tom asked.

  “Yes, sir,” Ven told him.

  “And you were only a child?”

  “Yes.”

  “How old were you?” Tom couldn’t imagine a little kid being taken from his family, shoved into a transporter, and sent to a village, never to see his parents again.

  “I was eight Standard cycles old,” Ven told him.

  “Do you ever miss them? Your family?” Tom asked.

  “I have no recollection of them, sir. I have a new family,” Ven said.

  Tom wasn’t fully buying it, but it was a sensitive subject, one he needed to bite his tongue on.

  The ship vibrated slightly, and it was obvious they were moving. The technology was sound, Tom never feeling the thrusts, and he had no idea how fast they were traveling. It was disconcerting.

  Ven sat straight in his seat, as if this were the most normal thing in the universe. Tom tried to get a read on the man, but it was tough. His expression was impassive, his demeanor calm.

  “Ven, do you understand the goal?” Tom asked.

  “Of course, sir. We’re asking for the Ugna’s assistance in managing the Border,” he said.

  “Are you surprised they agreed to meet with me?” Tom hadn’t expected it to be so easy.

  “I’m not aware of their motives, sir. I was offered to the Fleet shortly after my inauguration. To the Ugna, I am but a child.”

  The truth of Ven’s words shocked Tom. Here was a man of middle years, with telekinetic and empathetic traits. He was a great crew member and a hard worker. Nothing about his demeanor made Tom think of a child.

  Tom was going to ask more questions regarding that last comment when the door opened once again. It had only felt like a few short minutes of travel, but since he was unable to judge the speed, they could be anywhere on Leria.

  He stepped out and found himself in a jungle of trees. The air was humid, sweat instantly sticking to his brow. Ven took a deep breath, and Tom almost witnessed a smile from the Ugna.

  “Is this home?”

  “This is home.” Ven led him away from the sleek ship and through the jungle. The path here was well worn, the dirt hard beneath his boots. Tom peered toward the sky, the blue cloudless day difficult to see through the dense canopy cover.

  Strange animal noises carried and echoed around the region almost at once, and Tom tried to find the source as they walked, failing at the task. Nearly everything was a deep dark green, the bark of the trees papery and emerald.

  The air was sweet, and Tom suspected the conditions here would be ideal for food growth. Thick-husked yellow fruit hung in clusters along the pathway, and Tom reached for one, Ven stopping him short of touching it.

  “Sir, you don’t want to touch that,” Ven warned him.

  The fruit spread wide, sticky teeth snapping toward Tom’s outstretched fingers. He pulled away in revulsion and observed the threatening plants along the walkway. “Anything else want to kill me out here?”

  “At least one hundred species of deadly creatures and plants surround our home,” Ven said, as if that was commonplace.

  Tom clued in. “They built the training facility out here on purpose. Natural defenses.”

  “That’s correct, with more than a few technological defenses as well.” Ven slowed as the tree cover grew sparser. The ground dipped here, and Tom saw the entire Ugna village below. Smoke rose from chimneys in the squat buildings, the structures reminding Tom of the city they’d just come from, only older, more rustic.

  He’d had no idea how the Ugna lived, but for the life of him, he hadn’t pictured them residing in huts with wood-burning fireplaces. People walked around the village, and Ven led Tom toward the town. It was smaller than he would have guessed, and from a quick view of the place, he estimated somewhere around five hundred people lived here.

  Even though five hundred wasn’t many, the Ugna were revered in the universe as rare and special beings. Tom tried to press away the fear at being among them, in their town. He’d heard tales of others seeking their aid but never returning.

  Ven assured him there was nothing nefarious to fear, but it did little to settle his nerves. Sweat poured off him as they stepped into the town, past a few children no older than ten or eleven. They were tall, thin, and all pale like Ven.

  “Where did you grow up?” Tom asked him, searching among the buildings as they walked farther down the path.

  “I was raised among the Elders across the village. These are for families,” Ven said, pointing to the few residences. They were higher-quality than Tom had thought at first glance.

  Tom saw a door slide open. A pallid woman with long white hair stood with her hand over a child’s shoulder, watching Tom and Ven cross through town. Soon most of the village was outside, speaking in whispers as Ven took Tom to the tallest building, directly on the edge of town.

  It was three times as high as the others, round in shape, and Tom spotted drones hovering beside it, moving in programmed patterns. They stopped at a series of wide steps leading to the structure, and the doors opened, three Ugna stepping out.

  “Ven Ittix, welcome home.” The leader was a woman, her cloak black, a start contrast to her pale skin. Her red eyes stared toward them, and Tom glanced behind them to see a circle of Ugna surrounding the courtyard.

  “Welcome home,” the other two said in unison. They were in gray cloaks, with white uniforms underneath.

  “Greetings, Elders. Thank you for replying in haste to our beckoning,” Ven said.

  Tom stood uncomfortably, unsure of what was expected of him.

  “I am Elder Fayle, Captain Thomas Baldwin. Please, come in. We have much to discuss,” the woman said, her stoic face relaxing enough to put Tom a little at ease.

  “Hello, Elder Fayle. Thank you for meeting with me.” He took the dozen steps, trying to move slower than his brain was telling him to go. He and Ven arrived at the top simultaneously. Tom took in the sight of the building. It was clearly made of some synthetic material, designed to appear as though it was created from natural supplies. The sheen gave it away, but from a distance, it wouldn’t look like much more than an unadvanced village.

  The other two Elders waited for Tom and Ven to enter their building, and Tom was shocked to see a lot of acolytes inside. Many were albino, but he did see others among them, including a Tekol girl and a young Callalay boy.

  His gaze darted over to Ven, whose face remained still. What were those children doing here? This was an Ugna training facility. The last thing he’d expected to see were other races lingering among the special Zilph’i group.

  “I can see from your expression that you are surprised to learn there are others at our facility,” Elder Fayle said.

  “I didn’t know,” Tom said.

  “Few do.” Fayle stopped at the edge of the open space, and they watched the students walking through the entranceway – over two hundred, by his guess, bustled around. He saw a few using their abilities to press open doors from a distance, one carrying his books in a pack through the air, his hands not touching it. “We encourage them to practice.”

  “I see that.”

  “If you will, we can meet inside my office,” Elder Fayle said, and he nodded.

  The Tekol and Callalay kids were together, walking with two of the Ugna, and Tom turned from them, shaking his head slowly. It was inspiring.

  The corridors were tall, accommodating the average seven-foot height of the Ugna adults. Natural light poured in through the expansive windows, and Tom noticed he didn’t see much in the way of artwork. Everything was a blend of muted whites and grays.

  They eventually found an office, which matched the capacity of Constantine’s bridge, and they filed in, the two Elders closing the
door before entering a code into a glowing keypad.

  It was much cooler inside the building, and the sweat from the heat and humidity outside was gone, replaced with a knot in Tom’s stomach. Admiral Benitor had conveyed the importance of recruiting the Ugna’s assistance, but being here, he had to wonder where they kept their mysterious fleet hidden. The office was cold and sterile, computer screens lining the walls, the desk large and round, backless stools surrounding it.

  “Have a seat, Captain. Is there anything we can bring you?” Elder Fayle asked.

  The others took a seat, still unnamed to Tom. He thought he’d take a gamble. “How about a raca?”

  “Raca? You know of the ancient Zilph’i beverage?” Fayle smiled at him, clearly pleased.

  Even Ven appeared startled. “I’m aware of it. I’ve been lucky enough to drink it on two occasions, once when my grandfather brought me to the capital when I was about to finish at the academy.”

  “That’s correct. Your elder is Constantine Baldwin. You look like him, Captain Thomas Baldwin,” she said.

  “Did you meet him?” Tom asked, curious about this nugget. He was under the impression no one in the Concord had been here.

  “I did, once, though he was unaware who I was,” she said. “We sometimes venture away from our tiny village, living among the Concord worlds for a time. It grounds us to the Vastness.”

  “Is that why you allowed Ven to join our ranks?” Tom asked.

  She nodded, taking a seat. Tom followed suit, and seconds later, a hidden door opened inside the room, six glasses and a clear jug floating across the space on a metal tray. It slowly descended to the table near Ven, and Tom could smell the powerful scent of the delicious beverage.

  “Ven, if you would do the honor,” Elder Fayle said, and watched him with consternation as he poured the beverage manually. “Have you lost your ways, Ven?”

  He glanced at Tom before speaking. “I’d prefer to discuss this in private, if it pleases you, Elder.” Ven finished pouring the drinks, and the glasses lifted, setting before each of them. From the look on his face, Ven had nothing to do with the telekinetic movements.

  Tom hoped his executive lieutenant was okay. He was acting even more oddly than normal.

  “We’ve sent you away from our people to bring us pride, not consternation, Ven. Perhaps it’s time we shared more of ourselves with the outsiders. Do you trust your captain?” Elder Fayle asked, and Ven shifted in his seat.

  “I do,” he said, hiding his expression from Tom.

  “Then what is it?”

  “The En’or. I’ve run out. I fear I’ve grown more dependant on it than I should be.” For the first time, Tom saw the child that Ven once was, and he instantly understood that Ven was raised by Elder Fayle directly.

  “Perhaps he was accurate in his attempts at waylaying this conversation,” one of the other elders suggested.

  Fayle glanced at the man, frowning. With her piercing red eyes, the sight wasn’t an easy one to stare at. Tom averted his gaze. “Captain Baldwin, what do you know of the Ugna?”

  He shrugged. “About as much as anyone. You can move things with your minds, and Ven has shown us that he has some empathetic powers. He knew when a Statu was lying.”

  The other two elders gasped in unison. “The Statu?”

  Tom ignored them and spoke to Fayle directly. “Didn’t you hear about that?”

  “I am afraid the news has not carried to our ears. Tell us,” she said.

  “I’ll let Ven explain,” Tom advised her, and they settled in for their tale, Tom drinking his cup of raca with a smile on his face.

  ____________

  “That’s it? I thought we were going to discuss the case of Potern versus Situs Four,” Tarlen said.

  Constantine’s AI stood with his hands steepled at the front of the room. Kriss punched him in the arm at the suggestion. “Jeez, kid, you really want this to go on? We could be free, and you’re trying to get him to keep teaching?”

  “Without a base of knowledge, your mental walls will crumble with ease,” Tarlen said, quoting the Code.

  She punched him again, this time a little harder. “That’s for being such a nerd.”

  “A nerd?” he asked, not understanding the reference.

  “It’s someone who’d rather have his nose on a console studying than having fun in the courtyard with the other kids,” she said.

  “So you do admit to being a kid? Then why are you always using it as an insult to me?” he asked, and Constantine flickered.

  “I see I’m no longer needed today. Tarlen and Kriss, we’ll see you here tomorrow.” He vanished, leaving them alone in the room. Kriss wasted no time standing up and heading out the door.

  “Maybe I’m not insulting you, Tarlen. Maybe I like you.” She blew a kiss at him, and he had no choice but to hide his face from her. He felt his heart race as he ducked behind the desk, pretending to pick up something off the floor.

  “Sure you do.”

  “How about it? Meet me in the courtyard in an hour? My parents asked me to come home for dinner for once, but after that, maybe we can blow off some steam,” she said.

  Tarlen waited, not sure what that meant either. She was so different from the girls from home. Her hair was red, shaved along the left side; her nose slightly upturned; freckles speckled her face, and he wanted to stare at them. But it was her eyes he found himself the most drawn to. One was dark green, the other brown.

  “Why are we the only ones studying on board?” Tarlen asked her, walking down the corridor away from their classroom.

  “This is frowned upon. Someone has to request the distance education, and usually needs to be approved by an admiral,” she said.

  “And you know this why?”

  “Because this is my dad’s third station in three years, and I’m still in a couple of entry-level classes. I get most of them, but for some reason, I really struggle with history and culture. Who cares what happened to Potern seven hundred years ago?” Kriss walked faster, and Tarlen jogged to catch up.

  “The past…”

  “Would you stop quoting the Code?” She moved to hit him again, but he dodged it, laughing as he ran backwards.

  He noticed her staring behind him, and she started to raise a hand in warning, but it was too late. He hit something hard, stumbling to the ground.

  “Sorry about that. I wasn’t watching where I was going,” a voice said. Tarlen peered up to see a monster of a man, his arm outstretched. He helped Tarlen to his feet.

  “I thought I hit a wall,” Tarlen muttered.

  “Gotta run, kid. See you in an hour?” Kriss asked.

  “You bet.” Tarlen watched her continue down the corridor and didn’t realize he was gaping after her.

  “Girlfriend?” the man asked, his voice gruff.

  “What? No. Just a friend… classmate… a girl, maybe we’re friends…”

  “I see.” The man stood tall, and Tarlen noticed he wasn’t in uniform, which instantly put him out of place.

  “Who are you?” Tarlen asked.

  The big man jutted his meaty paw out, and Tarlen stared at it. “Name’s Basel, and trading’s my game.”

  “Trading?”

  “Goods. Carefully hand-curated, specialty products only the wealthy and privileged among the Concord’s elite can afford.” Basel seemed proud of this, and his chest puffed up as he continued.

  The pieces to the puzzle filled in. “You were the reason we arrived at Leria late.”

  “Sure, if you say so. So, kid…”

  “She calls me that, but I hate it. My name is Tarlen,” he told the long-haired man.

  “Tarlen. You don’t seem like the rest of them here, what gives?” Basel asked.

  “I’m Bacal, from Greblok,” he said.

  “Never heard of it.”

  “I’m not surprised.” Tarlen started away, leaving the man in the corridor, but the bulky human followed along.

  “Hey, do you know this Reeve Da
ak, by chance?” he asked.

  “Sure. She’s the chief engineer.”

  “Right. She left for the surface, but she’s supposed to order a part for my vessel. No one’s told me nothing. Any chance you can find out when it’ll be transported up here for old Basel?” he asked.

  Tarlen stopped, unsure what to do. “Why don’t you ask Constantine?”

  “Who? I haven’t met anyone by that name. Isn’t that the ship?” Basel asked.

  “That’s right. Constantine!” Tarlen said loudly, and the AI appeared.

  “Hello, Tarlen.”

  Basel motioned for a weapon that wasn’t on his hip and darted across the hall. “What in the Vastness was that?”

  “This is our AI, Constantine. The craft’s named after him. Wait, have you never been on a cruise ship before?” Tarlen asked.

  The man paused, glancing around the empty corridor. “Sure I have.”

  “Is there something you needed, Tarlen?” the AI asked.

  “Can you check with Reeve on the surface? Basel is asking about a part for his ship,” Tarlen said.

  “I have requested the data,” Constantine said without hesitation, and vanished.

  Tarlen laughed. “See, it’s as simple as that.”

  “I’m impressed.” The man set a muscular arm on Tarlen’s shoulder. “What do you say we have a bite in the mess hall?”

  Tarlen’s stomach growled at the thought of food. He’d been in classes for hours and had forgotten to eat lunch. “I could go for some food.”

  He’d been wanting to visit Nee and his sister, but the doctor would only shoo him out, saying he should be off doing more important things, and that his sister was unchanged from the day prior. Tarlen didn’t care. He wanted to check on her every day, no matter what Nee said.

  He could always do that later. A few minutes passed, Basel talking his ear off about some distant world Tarlen had never heard of, and how they had the best meat delicacies in the universe. Tarlen would have to trust him on that. He preferred the simpler grain and vegetable dishes, and they settled into the mess hall, finding seats at a table near the door.

  “Busy in here,” Basel said, pulling up a seat across from Tarlen.

  Tarlen scanned the room, searching for Kriss, but she would be in her family’s suite. “Where are you going when you fix your ship?” he asked.

 

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