“Very good, though they aren’t known by that moniker in these parts. They’re the Invaders,” Prophet told him, and the hair on his arms rose at the title.
“Doesn’t that sound a little… ominous?” For some reason, he wasn’t overly surprised that the Ugna were present. Their benefactor was one of them, but he hadn’t been very forthcoming with details.
“They did invade.” She shrugged, as if that was enough of an explanation.
“So we have to convince these people to tweak their drives and return with us to the Concord?” Lark asked.
“That’s right,” Prophet said. “Should be simple.”
Lark pointed at the console, seeing the incoming transmission arrive. He tapped it and listened.
“Unidentified vessel, remain where you are. Power off any weapons systems.” The voice was female, and it spoke perfect Standard. He raised an eyebrow as he peered at the Callalay woman beside him. She flicked the shuttle’s engines off, and Lark pressed the blinking icon.
The group of single-manned fighter crafts arrived, encircling their shuttle, and he cleared his throat, ready to play his role.
The image of a woman in an office appeared, and he smiled at her. “Greetings. I am Admiral Lark Keen of the Concord, and I’d like to meet with your leaders.”
The woman seemed confused, and her jaw dropped. “Where are you from? I don’t recognize your design.”
“As I said, I come from the Concord. We have much to discuss with your leaders. Please guide me to them,” he said with as much confidence and authority as he could muster.
The image stayed on, but he noticed the woman’s mouth move without hearing anything. She’d muted herself. A moment later, the reply came. “The Keepers will escort you to Earth.”
The screen flashed, and he was once again looking at the space station through the viewscreen. The fighters, which were clearly called Keepers, began flying forward, and Prophet powered up the shuttle, following them. They were shorter than the Concord versions, each with stubby wings that would allow them to shift quickly within a planet’s atmosphere. The Keepers were dark gray, with yellow lines along the sides leading to two bright orange thrusters.
“Good work, Keen,” Prophet told him. “We’re almost there.”
“I wasn’t expecting this,” he admitted.
“What did you think? Our friends went to all this effort to break you out and send you to Earth for fun?”
Lark stared at the space structures as they headed toward Earth. There were huge floating pods in orbit, making a structure that would almost compete with Earon Station in size. Humans. How was it possible the Concord hadn’t been aware of them?
Space vessels came and went from what had to be docking zones as their Nek-modified shuttle flew after the Keepers. It all appeared very organized and well-created. “They seem to be more advanced than we are.”
Prophet chuckled. “The Concord always does think it’s the epitome of advancement. They’re too close-minded to believe for a moment there might be other races that could rival them for power. That time has come.”
This was really happening. Within a few months, the Concord would be no more.
Three of the Keepers broke formation, their orange thrusters burning brightly as they arced away. A communication poured through the speakers. “Follow us. Do not activate any weapons or you will be destroyed immediately.”
The Keeper pilot’s deep voice issued the warning, and Prophet didn’t flinch as they advanced to the human planet. Keen was amazed by what he saw. White cloud cover was thin, overhanging part of a large continent, but it was the ocean that drew his attention. It was so beautiful, and something urged him to walk the beach, a primal instinct like he was returning home. He shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs.
“You holding it together, Admiral?” Prophet asked.
Hearing the fake title returned Lark’s focus. He had a job to do, and he was going to do it to the best of his ability.
The remaining three Keepers descended, the shuttle following behind, and ten minutes later, they were en route to an island country, with another piece of land to the left of it. It was daytime, but they passed through some thicker clouds as they neared the shore, and everything turned gloomy. Rain poured over the shuttle, the dark sky casting a murky net over the entire region.
The Keepers led them toward ground, and soon they were flying over farms, and Keen noted there were huge robotic machines working the land instead of people. The crops ended quickly, and everything turned as they moved for a cityscape. The homes grew closer together; the buildings became taller, until they were in the epicenter of a metropolis.
“You will land there. Arms up when you exit the shuttle,” the same male voice said before the last of their escorts raced off, leaving them no choice but to rest on the tallest skyscraper in the city. The closer the shuttle came to the landing pad on top, the bigger Keen realized the place was.
Prophet kept silent while she flew and only spoke when the ship was settled on the rooftop and powered off. Rain still fell in fat drops over the viewscreen, and Lark wiped nervous hands over his dark pants. It was showtime.
He followed Prophet to the exit, and she opened the door. Ten armed human guards waited for them, and Keen’s eyes were drawn to the bald albino woman behind them. She smiled, her red eyes almost glowing in the cloudy afternoon.
Keen cleared his throat and stepped off, using his most charismatic voice. “I’m Admiral Lark Keen with the Concord, and we’re here to ask for your help.”
The woman motioned for the guards to lower their weapons, and they obeyed.
“We’ve been expecting you.” The woman turned, walking away, and Lark followed.
____________
“They’re going to attack us?” President Bertol paced the room, her hands behind her back.
“That’s right,” Fayle said.
“This is ludicrous. The Ugna dare fight us, when we were the ones to help them in their time of need,” Bertol said, and Fayle lifted a hand.
“You misunderstand. The Ugna were always going to force their will. By entering the Concord, they could invade from the inside, taking over when the time was right,” Fayle said.
Tom could see how much it pained Fayle to be offering this information. He struggled to decide if she should be detained or rewarded for the news. It was too late, but as his grandfather used to say, it’s better late than never.
“Their motivations are irrelevant at this point. We need to mount a defense,” Tom said, standing. He pointed to the president’s seat, and she huffed, taking his suggestion. Once she was seated, he continued, pressing a button on his tablet. A 3D image appeared in the center of the table, and Rene leaned on her elbows, staring through the diagram to lock gazes with him. “This is Aruto. From what the Elder is suggesting, they’ll arrive in thirty hours, using the same replica of Shu that assaulted Veer. They’re not expecting any kind of retaliation. They’ll come in, send the fighters to the surface, hit Beacon, and retreat, claiming the Concord sent a hit out on one of the Founders.
“The partners are already up in arms with the rumors surfacing. They think the Founders are taking over, that they’re sending our fleet against vulnerable planets in an effort to strengthen their own grip.”
“What’s the Prime saying about this?” the president asked.
“We’re about to find out,” Tom said. “But first, here’s what we’re going to do.” He pointed to the diagram, icons scattered around the planet of Aruto.
Twenty minutes later, their first plan was in place, and Tom glanced around the room. Kan Shu was present with Rene Bouchard and President Bertol, and a man named Representative Tajo Harrn, Bertol’s head of defense. He was a short, round man, with a stuffy black uniform on that he looked entirely too uncomfortable in. His ridged forehead was deep-set, his eyes deep in the sockets.
“I’d prefer if we continued the discussion without the Ugna in the room,” Tajo said.
> “She’s the one who told us what’s moving for us,” Tom reminded the man, but he shook his head.
“This could be a trap. For the sake of our people, President, I advise we do this behind closed doors. She could be feeding them details.” Tajo’s gaze could have melted ice.
Tom motioned to Fayle, asking her to rise. “Thank you for bringing this to our attention, but I have to agree with the representative. You’re to be reprimanded and placed in a cell on Shu.”
He expected a retaliation from Fayle, but none came. “Very well. I understand.”
Rene ordered a shuttle to Beacon, and two of the representative’s men entered, ushering Fayle from the meeting room.
President Bertol waited until the door was closed to speak up. “And you trust her?”
Tom nodded. “I don’t see that we have a choice. If we ignore the information, then we’re vulnerable. Do you want to find your world under attack?”
Tajo slammed a palm onto the table. “We are not some trivial planet to be trifled with. We are a founding race of the Concord. Freedom is not to be taken for granted. Sometimes one must fight to have peace.”
His Code quote struck Tom in the chest, and he nodded. “Then tell me what we can work with outside this plan I drafted.”
They discussed it, Tom learning how powerful the Callalay really were. Tajo spoke of their intense suborbital defense system, and the drone army waiting at the space station near their largest moon. “Anyone who comes here will be given a fight they didn’t anticipate.”
“Good.” Tom glanced at the man, seeing a smile peel across his face. He was beginning to like the guy and guessed Brax would too. “There’s just one stipulation.”
“What’s that?” the Callalay president asked.
“The flagship. The one the Ugna somehow built to trick our people.” Tom watched as the woman nodded, following along. “We can’t destroy it. I want it.”
Tajo grinned, his rugged brow twisting into a frown. “I may be able to assist you with that.”
“Admiral, a message is coming from Ridele,” Kan Shu said, and Tom waited as the projection of the Prime appeared.
“Prime Xune, we…” Tom started.
“Admiral. Tell me you have good news. Tensions are high at Ridele. There are over fifty offensive vessels nearing Nolix, and I don’t expect they’re coming for peace talks,” Xune said. He looked terrible. He was always so put together, straight-backed and perfectly styled. It was obvious he was tired, his hair disheveled.
“Is someone with you?” the president asked, and Xune leaned over, giving Tom a view of his office nemesis, Admiral Anthony West.
“I’ve placed Admiral West in charge during Benitor’s absence,” Prime Xune said.
“What are you doing to find my sister?” President Bertol asked, and Tom noticed West’s shocked expression. At least Tom hadn’t been the only one left in the dark about the relationship between the Callalay leader and Admiral Benitor.
“I think we have a lead. She was sighted at Earon,” Prime Xune said.
“Earon? What in the Vastness is she doing there?” Rene asked.
“We don’t know, but our contacts are following up with it. Tell us what you can, Admiral.”
Tom did, explaining everything about the Ugna’s plan and Fayle’s involvement.
“This is bad, Baldwin. They’ve created a disaster. I need you to prevent this assault at Aruto. I’m sorry there’s no time to send reinforcements.” Xune stared at him from the projection, and Tom could only nod in understanding.
“We’ll stop them, and I have a plan to hijack their flagship. The Ugna are powerful, sir, but we’re the Concord. We’ve been around for a long time, and nothing will destroy us,” Tom assured him, his words carrying more confidence than his heart.
“We should have seen this coming. Damn it, we were too blind to them. The moment we learned about their numbers, we should have acted,” Xune said.
West leaned on the Prime’s shoulder and rubbed a hand through his gray beard. “We’re ready to make a move against Driun F49, sir.”
Xune glanced over his shoulder at the man behind him. “Nolix needs all the protection at this point. We need to send a statement to the people that the Ugna are behind this, and that we’re united together to stop them at any cost.”
Tom glanced at Rene, who was tapping a finger on the table. “Captain Bouchard, do you have a suggestion?”
“I don’t think you should implicate the Ugna quite yet. They won’t be aware they’ve been named. There’s no way they would ever suspect that Elder Fayle, one of their leaders, would have betrayed them. I’d suggest making the statement to all Concord partners, but saying there’s an external threat posing as the Concord, and that everyone must remain vigilant and on guard during this trying time.
“Assure them that the Founders are united, and that Admiral Thomas Baldwin is in charge of the investigation. That way, their faith will be restored, and maybe the incoming contingency of partner vessels will talk rather than fire.” Rene seemed to realize she was fidgeting with her hands and placed them under the table.
Tom glanced at the Prime’s image, and he pursed his lips while thinking. “Great idea, Captain. West, see to it.”
“But, sir, I’ve already drawn up the statement…”
“Then change it! Make sure Baldwin’s name is there. Bouchard is right. His name is the beacon that will keep this from spilling over. He’s the hero we need. Do you hear that, Tom? Don’t fail this. Stop them. Get that ship and bring the attackers to justice.” The Prime ended the call, but not before Tom heard Admiral West complaining from the other end.
“We have our work cut out for us.” Tom remembered Reeve’s dire warning about the Ugna, and how they’d floated in rows on the colony ship’s bridge, each injecting themselves with En’or before killing the Vusuls.
The meeting room door opened, and a guard poked their head in. “Sorry for the interruption, but there’s been an incident.”
“As if we need more to go wrong,” the president said. “What is it?”
“The shuttle with your guest…”
“Out with it!” Bertol said impatiently.
“It’s gone.” The guard blanched. “The shuttle didn’t make it to Shu.”
Tom raced for the exit.
Elder Fayle had escaped.
Fourteen
Ven was ready for the jump to Sol. Judging by the urgency of emotions from the other members of the bridge crew, so were they. He couldn’t read Captain Starling, but that was because her real body was in her quarters. So far, he’d heard she was recovering well, but he hadn’t yet seen her physical form since the revival.
“We’re about to embark on something unexpected, everyone.” The captain walked to the center of the bridge, standing between Ven and the viewscreen. “We weren’t planning on using the Nek jump drive function for this mission, but due to the unnatural manner in which we were sent to Planet X, and the speculation of foul play, I’m anxious to return to Concord space as soon as possible. The mission comes first, though. We’ll make the leap to Sol, investigate Earth, and when we’re able, using Executive Lieutenant Daak’s expertise, we’ll go home. Does everyone understand?”
No one objected, and Ven caught Brax’s gaze. His brow was furrowed, his mouth tightly closed.
Reeve arrived on the bridge, walking through the entrance quickly, finding a seat beside Ven. Darl stood at the rear of the bridge, going over system checks, and Reeve flashed a grin at Ven as she sat beside him.
“Everything is running at optimum, Captain. Constantine is ready for the trip,” Reeve assured the bridge.
“Very well. Ven, please move into position. Reeve, count it down.” The captain went to her chair.
Ven felt unease emanating from Commander Teller. He peered behind him at the older man, and his rheumy eyes were wide, fearful.
Ven guided their immense starship deeper in-system, using the localized thrusters only, diverting most o
f the energy from the Bentom ball into the Nek field.
Reeve’s fingers darted over the console, and she pressed an icon, the digital numbers blinking on the viewscreen’s top right corner. It started at twenty, and Ven glanced to see the engine’s processor bar at full. They were really going to intentionally do this.
During the few seconds before launch, Ven wondered how they’d ended up here. Who had programmed the location into their system? Had it been an enemy or an ally? Sometimes the difference between the two was negligible. He didn’t know if the Ugna were his friends or foes. He almost felt Elder Fayle’s fingerprints all over it, and when he closed his eyes, he could nearly hear a warning from his old mentor.
“Three, two…” Reeve counted out the last few numbers aloud, and Ven tried to keep his eyes open while the jump transpired. He felt like he was floating momentarily, and the colorful lights of the Vastness emerged, dancing across his line of sight. It was the same feeling he’d had when he’d died saving Lieutenant Commander Brax Daak’s life in the Nek shuttle. Just when he thought he might be dead, he gasped, coming to.
His vision focused, and he found that he was hovering above his console as Constantine arrived in a completely different solar system. The crew around him was clapping, cheering their survival.
“Report,” Starling said as Ven lowered to his seat. It didn’t even seem like anyone had witnessed his odd behavior—or they were growing used to his differences.
“Captain, we’re in Sol, all right. I recognize the patterns from the resources we’d found. There should be a planet…” Brax paused, using his controls to zoom and locate a ringed planet. “There she is. Saturn.”
“How long until we reach it?” Captain Starling asked, and Ven ran the calculations.
“Twenty minutes, Captain,” he said. Ven lowered his voice, turning to Reeve. She was red-cheeked and smiling. “Good job, Reeve.”
“Thanks. I’m glad it worked out,” she replied.
He didn’t remind her that if it hadn’t, they’d all be dead, the ship broken into a million pieces, scattered around space somewhere between Planet X and Saturn.
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