Baldwin's Legacy: The Complete Series

by Hystad, Nathan

“We were rushed along for this. The Concord needed to make a show of power. With all the issues, the Prime and Admiral Benitor were adamant we end this Statu threat once and for all, and the Founders unanimously backed their plan. We had no idea what to expect, or that we’d need to reopen the rift so soon after destabilization.”

  Tom let it all sink in, trying to imagine what was happening aboard his ship, which was so far away. “Where is the processing happening?”

  Zolin didn’t hesitate to answer. “Outside Nolix, on the Moons.”

  “A month. I don’t like this, not one bit.” Never in a million years had Tom expected to not be able to reactivate and return via the generator, but at least he’d made it through and had been able to let the Concord know what happened.

  “We don’t like it either.” The door was open. Admiral Molan was standing there, the old Tekol Tom had met while being told he was to escort Prime-in-Waiting Harris to Leria, what felt like years ago.

  “Admiral, I was just…”

  The Tekol’s hair was short, gone gray, and he limped over to the table, still standing. “You did good, Baldwin. You think the others are alive?”

  “I do.”

  “The Prime? Benitor?” he asked.

  “They were putting up a fight when I left.”

  The admiral nodded. “Speed up the processing. I’ll have one of the Nek shuttles ready to bring it here when it’s ready.”

  Tom was surprised they had the technology ramped up so quickly. “You can do that?”

  “The Prime made it a priority, and we’re working on two prototypes,” Molan said.

  Zolin smiled. “Another project for the Zilph’i team.”

  “Why didn’t I guess that? It would be nice if we weren’t traversing the known universe with rushed wormhole generators and jump ships, but we don’t have a choice. I only want to keep my people safe,” Tom said.

  “Our people,” the admiral corrected him.

  “Whatever you want to call them, they’re the most important part,” Tom said, frowning.

  “The war being over… that’s what matters.” The Tekol turned, limping from the room. “If the Prime is dead, someone’s going to pay, Baldwin.”

  The door slid shut, and Tom glanced at Yephion, who clicked a few times, his words translating. “You are a brave and honorable man, Captain Baldwin. The generator will be fixed posthaste.”

  “Thank you, Yephion.” Tom rose, leaving the two engineers together to discuss their plans for expediency, and he walked the corridors of the station. What started out as a distracted stroll to clear his mind ended up taking him to Gideon’s Grill, the most famous place to have a bite to eat on Earon Station.

  It was busy inside, everyone talking excitedly about the rumors of the Statu war. The moment he stepped inside, he regretted wearing his uniform.

  He heard his name whispered a handful of times before he sat at the bar, and he turned to face the gathered people. “I’ll get this over with.” He remained standing, placing his hands on his hips. Everyone hushed quickly, all eyes settling on him. “Yes, we were fighting the Statu, and yes, there were far more of them than expected.”

  “Why didn’t the Concord send more ships?” a large man asked from the table closest to him. His forehead was sweating, his beer glass empty.

  “We didn’t think…”

  “That’s right, you didn’t… Is the Prime truly dead?” a slick-haired woman asked from the back of the grill.

  Tom shook his head. “No. I don’t think so…”

  “Why did you run away?”

  “Are the Statu coming here?”

  “What’s happened to the Concord?”

  The series of questions flew at him from all angles, and he sighed, turning to the bar to order a drink. When the bartender poured the shot, he downed it, leaving the glass.

  “If you’re all done fearmongering, I’ll tell you what I’m certain of. The Concord is doing the best they can. The Statu deceived us again, but I’m confident we have defeated them once and for all. There will be no more Statu threat.” He paused, seeing people begin to buy in to his speech.

  “We’re working on returning there to rescue the others, and honestly, the last thing I wanted to do was leave, but the warship was heading through, and the engineers were under strict guidelines to shut it down if the Statu emerged. If I’d stayed behind, we’d all be stuck there, and it would take years to return.”

  “You’re a hero!”

  “The Statu are dead!”

  “This one’s for you, Grandmother!”

  “To Baldwin!”

  The place erupted in cheers and chants of his name, and soon Tom was surrounded, bodies pressing against him, trying to shake his hand, pat his back, buy him a drink. He conversed with the people of Earon Station, learning a bit about them, discussing the Statu and the future of the Concord. It felt great to be among the hard-working people that lived on the Station, and hours later, Tom left, slightly drunk, extremely tired, and hopeful for tomorrow.

  ____________

  Ven Ittix reached out with his Talent, seeking the same negative energy of the Statu, but found only minor traces of anything below. They were still too far from the surface, orbiting Casonu Two, but the artificial cloud cover was mostly gone, and the probes were sent out, returning information as they collected it.

  “What do we have, Ven?” Commander Starling asked. Ven thought she’d stepped into the role as their leader with grace, and he was happy serving under such a good superior.

  “There is some activity below. Tubers. They appear isolated to this region.” Ven zoomed on the viewer, showing a small continent. He made the image closer, and it appeared like an above-ground city. They’d never seen the Statu cities before, only the underground one their cousins used on Casonu One.

  “We may encounter more of their people,” Brax suggested from the left edge of the bridge.

  Ven shook his head. “I think we’ll find only emptiness, Lieutenant Commander. They threw it all against us.” He moved the angle of the image, noticing a warship near the city’s outer boundary. It was only half completed, and it sat in pieces.

  “What about the Tubers?” Commander Starling asked.

  “We’ll send fighters down to deal with them. I think they were left behind to guard something, perhaps,” Brax suggested.

  “Very well.” The commander tapped her console. “Lieutenant Basker, contact Shu and send a team of fighters to the surface to end those Tubers. We don’t want anything in the air.”

  “What about the city?” Brax asked.

  “Ina claims the slaves are on the other side of the continent, so we bomb it,” the commander said.

  Ven was surprised by her orders. “Are you certain? Perhaps there’s information down there…”

  “The Prime was clear. We destroy the Statu cities. No questions asked,” Starling said grimly.

  Brax nodded. “Preparing suborbital cannons. Targets acquired. Dispatching now.”

  Ven watched as five detonations exploded in key sections of the city below, and when the plumes and dust settled, there was nothing left but rubble and craters.

  “Ven, find the next city,” the commander said.

  ____________

  Brax wished he had Cleo to use on the surface, but the cruiser did the job just fine. It was larger than he liked, but it seated the few of them comfortably.

  “Thanks for bringing me,” Tarlen said. His sister was beside him, her big brown eyes staring out the viewer, and Doctor Nee was perched beside Brax.

  “No problem, Tar. If Ina’s correct, there might be some of the Bacal here,” Brax told him, hoping he was right.

  The region was rife with warship pieces, and Brax could tell this was where the majority of their manufacturing had happened. It was far less spread apart than the facility he’d been brought to on the other planet.

  “There it is,” he said, lowering toward the massive structure. It was at least a mile wide and tall enough to
fit a cruise ship inside.

  Basker and a couple of the Ugna fighters flanked him as they set to the ground. It was sandy here, a far cry from the forests of Casonu One, and the ship sank slightly as the landing gear pressed into the yellowy-brown surface.

  Their group exited, Brax with an XRC-14 in his grip. Nee carried his handheld gun, and Tarlen left with one on his hip.

  Basker and the others faced the building with their fighters, weapons aimed at the entrance. Brax felt lucky to have the support of the heavily-armed craft as he walked slowly toward the Statu building. The sun was hot, and he wiped his brow as they crossed the half-mile, his feet sinking with each step.

  “I can’t say I love the sand,” Nee said from beside him.

  “Neither do I.” Belna struggled through it, and Brax slowed to allow the others to catch up.

  The building was made of metal, the same kind of material the warship’s hulls were created from. It appeared rough, choppy even, and Brax considered turning and leaving. His conscience wouldn’t let him.

  There were drones hovering overhead, and all sides of the structure were covered. Brax checked his tablet, but there was no indication of movement. He lifted his hand and reached toward the doors. They were tall, high enough to accommodate machinery going in and out, and he found a keypad beside them. He pressed the biggest button, assuming that would do the trick, and he jumped back as the doors pulled upward.

  Brax activated a LightBot, sending it inside. Everyone with him remained silent, all curious as to what was in the building.

  Brax stepped in behind the Bot, its bright rays shooting a spread of the beam over the foyer. He smelled the bodies, and almost thought they were dead. Then he noticed their eyes opening, some groaning, others crying out, and Tarlen rushed past him.

  “They’re Bacal!” Tarlen crouched at the front of the group, and Brax took stock. The room was packed with people: some standing in rows, their eyes bright white, others on the floor.

  “We’re here to help. We’ve come to bring you home,” Brax said, hoping there was a way to make that happen.

  Twenty-Three

  Tarlen couldn’t believe his eyes. Brax was giving orders to the bridge, relaying what they’d found, and Doctor Nee was scanning people, the worst of the ill. Tarlen guessed there were over two thousand of his people inside the building, along with countless others of different races.

  The room was bright now, lights brought in, and they’d opened any windows and doors they’d found. They’d located none of the Statu, and the gathered prisoners claimed they hadn’t seen any of them since they’d been sealed inside and the Statu had left in the warships.

  “What of Greblok?” an old man asked Tarlen.

  “It’s doing well. We’ve joined the Concord, and Malin is being rebuilt.” Tarlen was proud to pass this news.

  “What of them?” a woman asked, her hair long and greasy. She pointed at the Bacal standing in lines, their eyes lacking pigment.

  “Without the Statu to give them orders, they won’t do much, but we have a way to fix them, isn’t that right, Doctor Nee?” Tarlen peered at the doctor, who was administering a medispray to a young boy.

  “The boy has it right. We’ll have everyone here as fresh as a Polomian magic spa before you know it,” Nee said, getting a smile from the kid he was working on.

  Tarlen was at peace seeing his people being rescued. He had no idea if anyone was going to come for them, or if Captain Baldwin had made it through the wormhole or not, but they’d managed to find the remainder of the Bacal, and that was enough for him.

  Another fifty crew members were on the surface with them, spread out from the rest of their fleet, and he heard someone mention the Prime’s name. Tarlen glanced to the doorway, where Prime Xune and Admiral Benitor walked in. Xune’s face lit up as he saw the survivors, and Tarlen saw the honest man at that moment. The Concord was in good hands.

  Nurse Kelli was wrapping a medicated bandage on someone’s leg, and Tarlen left Belna with her. His sister had a knack for the medical bay, and he expected she’d ask to be trained in the field sooner rather than later. He hoped the two of them could stay on Constantine together, if they ever did return home.

  “What’s the word, Lieutenant Commander Daak?” Prime Xune asked Brax, and Tarlen came to stand with them.

  “About forty injuries that we’re tending to. Another one hundred or so are extremely malnourished, and almost all are dehydrated,” Brax advised them.

  Admiral Benitor scanned the room. “And a total head count?”

  “Three thousand and twenty-four Bacal. The others number just under a thousand,” Brax said.

  Tarlen was shocked by the totals.

  “And do we trust them all?” Benitor asked, implying there would be some like Ina and her companions, who’d brought lies and a virus to their ship.

  “Nope. But I don’t expect resistance now that the Statu are gone. There would be no point.” Brax was optimistic about it, and so was Tarlen.

  “Good work. Next we must decide on shelter.” The Prime smiled as he looked at the people filing outside into the bright hot afternoon.

  Tarlen followed Brax outside and was surprised by how quickly the drones were putting up temporary accommodations. They were going to remain on the surface until they knew what was happening with the wormhole.

  “We’ll stay in this location until we find a better spot: flatter land, no sand, and somewhere with a fresh water supply and an opportunity for growing food sources,” Xune said.

  “What if they never return?” Tarlen asked, his voice small.

  Brax shook his head. “We’ll make the trip ourselves. Leave everyone here like a colony and come back through the wormhole when we make it to Concord space.”

  “That’ll take years.” Tarlen hoped it didn’t come to that, but being with his rescued people and the great crew of Constantine, he was fully aware the predicament could be a lot worse.

  Someone called for assistance with a water station, and Tarlen jogged over, ready to help in any way he could.

  ____________

  Reeve walked through the grass, happy to feel the heat of the sun on her face. She’d spent so many years in the boiler rooms on starships and too few moments enjoying life like this. There was nothing left for her to do on Constantine, and she’d even moved from each Concord ship in their shrunken fleet to run diagnostics on each of their Star Drives.

  When she was satisfied everything was in working order after the battles, she finally relented and took a shuttle to Casonu Two’s new colony village. It was rough, still, but already they were beginning to plow fields, using modified tools from the retired ships’ cargo holds. Some had been used as museums at one point and held strange devices Reeve didn’t even understand the functions of.

  Fires crackled around the village, people cooking meat from a fat six-legged animal. Even though it smelled good, she was heading for the lake, where her brother had said he’d be.

  Four thousand plus their crews wasn’t a lot of people, but spread out along the field’s edge like this, it made their colony seem so much larger. Everyone appeared to be aligning, and tasks were being handled with efficiency. The Bacal were hard-working people, and even though the slaves with the white eyes weren’t able to control their own bodies, they still took to commands, and the Prime justified their labor, saying they would want to help regardless. The only slave returned to her own mind was Tarlen’s sister, Belna, and she agreed with the Prime.

  Drones hovered in the air, watching over camp, and Reeve was confident they weren’t going to encounter any resistance here on the planet. Basker had tracked down any remaining Tubers, and their fleet had handled the cities and any pieces of warships large enough to pose a future threat.

  By all intents and purposes, this planet was theirs now. As far as homes went, they could have done worse. Tall trees hugged the lake’s edge, and she smiled as she heard animals chittering away inside, upset by their interference.
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br />   “We don’t want to be here either, friends,” Reeve whispered to the hiding creatures as she walked through a newly-formed path leading to the water. It smelled damp, musky, and her boots found loose rocks as she closed in on the beach. Using her hand as a visor, she scanned the lake, spotting her brother a couple hundred yards to her left.

  She took her time, enjoying the outside air, and eventually found Brax standing at the lake’s edge, holding a wooden rod with a string attached to it.

  “What’s this all about?” she asked, grinning at him.

  “It’s fishing. Something an old Bacal man taught me. He made this himself.” Brax held his arm out, showing her the woodwork.

  “Very nice. What does it do?” she asked.

  “On Greblok, they have something they call fish. Kind of like Nolix’s ceephels, but with fins and no legs. We found a similar creature here, and it turns out they’re almost as good as Cronski, if you can believe it.” Brax wasn’t in uniform, just the pants with a white shirt on, and he looked about as happy as she’d ever seen him.

  “You want to stay, don’t you?” she asked, taking a seat on an overturned log near the water.

  Brax joined her but shrugged. “Would it be the worst thing?”

  “I’d miss it all.”

  “So would I, but you know how I feel…”

  “About space?” She laughed.

  “Right. Being on the ground is kind of a nice change, and a simple existence where we hunt, catch, and grow our own food sounds kind of tantalizing,” he told her.

  “I can see doing this for a few days but, Brax, you’ll grow bored. We all will. We’re born for adventure, for the thrill of the chase, not sitting with a stick in our hands waiting for life to happen.” Reeve spoke with passion and realized how much she meant the words.

  “You’re right, sister. But can I enjoy this for a little while longer?” he asked, and she nodded.

  “You have another of those sticks?” she asked, and he passed her the one he was holding.

  “You can use mine.”