Legacy. Tom hadn’t expected to be in charge of another flagship, especially not one created by the Ugna, but here he was, with a seemingly random crew. He wished Treena Starling was at his side, but she had her own part of the war to attend to. He couldn’t hold her back any longer.
They boarded his ship from an outstretched walkway connecting the giant vessel to the space station arm. “Welcome to Legacy,” Tom said, waving them on board. This wasn’t enough people to properly run a starship, but he hoped their mission would be a quick jump and return.
“To the bridge.” Tom felt the excitement from the crew, and he saw how composed Rene Bouchard and the others appeared. They were born for this.
Four
President Gordon Basher sat with his leg draped over his right knee, his foot wobbling sporadically as he drank from a clear glass. “You wanted to speak with me?”
Lark glanced around the room, ensuring they were alone, and he nodded. “We tried to communicate with engineering, but they wouldn’t discuss the state of the drive. Can you fill me in?”
Basher’s foot ceased the incessant movement, and he leaned forward in his seat. “You aren’t an admiral, are you?”
Lark froze.
“Do you really think the Ugna are so foolish? I have abilities the common man could never understand. The sheer audacity that you ever thought you could pull the wool over my eyes is laughable.”
“It doesn’t matter what I am. I was still sent by High Elder Wylen, as was Prophet.”
“Yes, the High Elder’s pet. She’s quite the piece of work. Very different race, that Callalay. I’ve grown so used to seeing the Invaders as they are that it’s off-putting being near one such as her.”
Lark didn’t remind the president that he was human, gifted his abilities by the very same offenders that had conquered his planet Earth. “We’re here to bring you to the Concord, right?”
When Basher didn’t respond, he kept talking. “Then let us help. How much longer until we fix the drives?”
Basher’s expression changed, and the cocky self-assured grin vacated his face as he set his cup down, empty. “Are you saying I can trust you?” He stood, walking the few short steps to face Lark. He was almost the same height as Lark and had an air of importance surrounding him, but Lark didn’t shy away.
Lark swallowed, trying to contain his fear, because everything he was about to reveal was indeed a lie. But he’d been practicing lying for the last twenty years. “Do you want to return home? To be stuck on Earth when you know how much is out there? Worlds ripe for the taking. A seat on Wylen’s board, a real position of power, not this puppeteering act you’ve honed with the bumpkin planet.”
Basher frowned, and for a moment, Lark thought he was going to strike him, but the president broke into laughter instead, shocking him. “I like you, Keen. You’re right. Who cares what your title is? Wylen trusts you, and that means I should too. Come with me for a moment.”
Basher walked unsteadily, and his hand caught the door frame. Lark imagined the man had consumed more than one cup of his potent beverage. They strolled slowly through the Protector vessel’s corridors, the people on board bowing in deference to their president as he swayed.
They took an elevator to engineering, and Basher ordered the guards to step aside. They had no visible armor, but they were each seven feet tall, bald, albino, with piercing eyes. Their red uniforms noted them as Ugna as much as their faces did. They allowed entrance, and the engineer, a short round human hummed while he worked on something across the room.
“Bruno, tell me you have some good news,” Basher said.
The man spun, giving them a wide smile. “Sir, I’m glad you came. I’ve figured it out. We can relink to the Nek.”
Basher cackled, slapping the man on the back. “Well done, Bruno. And the others?”
Lark stayed behind, not wanting them to see his fearful expression.
“I’ve managed to connect to our distinct power sources. I have the locations of all sixteen Protectors,” he said.
“Sixteen?” Lark asked. “I thought there were nineteen.”
“It appears three were destroyed, perhaps crashed into something or retrieved by locals. Or they’re so far away, our targeting isn’t working.”
Lark was surprised the Invaders possessed the level of technology they did.
“The losses are bad, but not as dire as they could have been,” Basher said. “Bruno, get the drive up and running, and make the trip to the nearest Protector.”
“Sir, we only have enough Nek for one more trip afterwards,” Bruno told his president. “By then, we’ll be depleted.”
“Then we utilize that ship to jump to the next, and so on. We’ll be able to reach the Concord, correct?” Basher asked.
“Yes, sir. But no return trip.”
This was it. Lark concentrated on Basher’s reaction, but his words relayed his true thoughts with ease. “There will be no returning to Earth, Bruno, not for a while. Proceed with our plan. Given what we know, how long before we arrive at the coordinates given by our friends here?”
Bruno ran some calculations, Lark seeing him combing over the timelines for each ship to jump, make the modifications, and move forward. “Three weeks on the outside. Sooner if our processes improve in the duration of our travels.”
A bead of sweat rolled over Lark’s spine. By his estimation, the war would have begun at home. Was the Concord falling as they spoke? Or had Wylen gone into hiding, anticipating the Protectors’ backup? There were numerous outcomes to concern him, but Lark was confident in his decision.
“Keen, what do you think? Will that be adequate for your High Elder?” Basher asked.
Lark hated being associated with the Ugna man he’d never even met, but he played the role by smiling and telling Basher what he wanted to hear. “If I know my boss, he’ll have them waving the white flag by the time we arrive, and you’ll give him the extra punch to properly secure the Concord.”
“Good. If you don’t mind, see yourself out. I have another… meeting.” Basher started for the exit, and Lark waited with Bruno while the president exited the space. When enough time had passed, Lark began to converse with the man. There was a vital detail he needed to confirm.
“Good work today. You’ll be well rewarded for your ingenious efforts,” Lark praised the human engineer. “I was told my shuttle was on this vessel.”
“Sure. Hangar Two.”
Lark nodded, as if he’d been expecting this answer. “Do I need a security code, or clearance? I left something on it and would like to retrieve it.”
Bruno hardly glanced up as he snapped off his keycard pinned to his chest. “Use this. It’ll give you full access. Just return it in a few hours.”
Lark stared at his prize. This keycard was his lifeline, his way to make it right. He almost said thank you but feared his voice would choke up, so he did what any authority figure would do. He left without another word, clutching the security clearance tightly.
____________
Ven kept waiting for a surprise, but none arrived. Their twenty fleet ships moved with efficiency and controlled patterns toward the planet. Obilina Six sat quietly, no external lights shining from the dark edge of its surface. Directly below was the manufacturing plant, but it was clearly powered down: no longer functional or at least temporarily off.
“High Elder, we’re making the first run.” Hanli’s voice was crisp, and Ven stared through their shuttle’s viewscreen as they zoomed on the sleek two-person fighter that emerged from the belly of Captain Hanli’s ship.
“Patching through footage now,” Gar Ellix said from the pilot’s seat. The screen showed the live footage from the camera mounted to the fighter as it raced through the atmosphere, into thick cloud cover. As they penetrated the layers, the ground grew wide open, and Ven spotted the plant in the distance. It was massive.
The sheer amount of work it took to build a Concord flagship was substantial, and Ven had seen the facilit
y on Kevis VII. This put it to shame. He guessed they were building multiple vessels at once and spoke his concern. “We need to check the logs,” he told Fayle.
“What are you talking about?” she asked.
“The logs. The facility logs. Surely the factory manager kept records of how many vessels they built. I think we’re going to find the number in the hundreds,” he warned her.
Fayle broke her stare with the fighter’s live feed to look at him. “Hundreds? You think Wylen has that many in his fleet?”
If he did, it might mean the end of the Concord. They might have more vessels, but each Ugna ship was built for exploration, speed, and destruction. The Concord’s ancient, bulky ships, like Andron and the modified freighters, wouldn’t hold a candle to an entire fleet of Ugna, especially with the crew’s unique fighting abilities.
“I think this facility is old enough, and substantial enough, to have only been used for the recent flagship replicas. Hanli said that fourteen of the Ugna ships were completed and left behind. Wylen wouldn’t have abandoned them…” Pressure built behind Ven’s eyes, and he nearly blacked out at the revelation. “Retreat! They’re here! Retreat!”
But it was too late. The manufacturing plant sprang to life, red beams pulsing from the ground. Ven stared at the footage, seeing the first few blasts miss the fighter. The next volley didn’t go errant, and the ship exploded, the camera turning to static. Their shuttle remained a few hundred kilometers from orbit, but he still saw the lights shooting from the surface.
“Wylen. He’s here,” Fayle said, her eyes going distant.
That was what Ven had felt. “They must have used a Nek drive.”
“This keeps getting worse.” Fayle tapped the all-call and spoke in crisp, clean lines. “The enemy has arrived. This has gone from a salvage mission to survival. Conquest will leave no survivors. We fight for our people, and our lives!”
Ven was caught up in her emotions and slammed a palm to the arm of his chair in frustration. All fifty thousand of their people were at risk, the ones that had sided against Wylen, and here he was, ready to make them pay for it.
“We’ve been had. He knew we were coming. He left it open for the taking, and we made it so easy on him.” Anger rolled through Gar’s voice. “High Elder Fayle, what are your orders?”
Fayle glanced at Ven, then to Gar. “We retre…”
“High Elder,” Ven pleaded, “you cannot do this. They need us. You asked them to take a stance, and they have. If you let Wylen win today, then we have nothing to fight for. The Ugna as you dream of them are dead. What does it matter if we escape the agony?”
“Ven, you’re too important,” she whispered.
Lights frolicked in his eyes, his entire body feeling lighter. It was almost as if the Vastness was beckoning him, but perhaps that wasn’t it at all. It was something more. “You want me to become the High Elder? Let me choose now.”
“Very well, Ven Ittix. What do you choose?” she asked.
Their fleet gathered in formation, prepared to face against Wylen’s giant craft. It was imposing. He used one of the ancient Pila colony ships, and Ven was fully aware there would be hundreds if not thousands of Ugna on board this moment, ready to be utilized as weapons. They were the enemy, even though they were his people. If only there was some means to make them see the light, and to follow the Vastness rather than their ambitious leader.
For a moment, Ven tried to understand Wylen, to see what the man might want with this power move. If it was for the good of the Ugna, he was full of it. The Ugna had been treated like gold by the Concord, at least after they came to the Concord’s aid with the Academy and then the Statu. Things were positive, their relationships forming strong bonds. Wylen had ruined everything.
Fayle was even paler than normal. “Ven, do you have an answer?”
He knew what he’d need to do, but he didn’t think they had the manpower. “We have to kill him. Wylen has to die.”
The cabin was silent for a moment, only the gentle chimes of the incoming radar bleeps sounding.
Gar Ellix broke the quiet, laughing loudly. “I like this one, High Elder.”
“Do you have a plan?” Fayle asked, and Ven glanced at the station overhead, where two fully constructed flagship replicas sat unused. The Ugna fleet was already moving to intercept Wylen and his colony ship, but they couldn’t last long against his superior craft.
“Fly to the nearest manufactured vessel. We’re going to try something,” Ven ordered, and Gar glanced at Fayle before getting the slightest of nods in return.
“I hope you know what you’re doing, Ven,” she murmured.
So did he.
____________
It had all happened so fast, Treena wasn’t able to react. One moment, Tom was on the stage; the next, he was hand-picking a skeleton crew for the urgent mission. Of course Legacy had the new Nek drive, but so did Constantine. She tried not to feel slighted at the exclusion, but it didn’t work.
The room was full of various captains shouting over one another for the floor, and Prime Xune eventually stood, taking the stage. His voice was calming but authoritative as he spoke. “Enough! Admiral Baldwin has this under control.”
“I thought they were coming for Earon,” Captain Larop of Vanity said. She was a bitter old woman with a penchant for sticking her nose where it wasn’t needed. The problem with reopening conscription was that they had a lot of lifers who were chomping at the bit to return.
“So did we, and this doesn’t change anything,” Xune said.
Treena listened, and Conner looked furious. She could tell he wanted nothing more than to dart over to Obilina Six and help Ven and Fayle gather the fleet ships. Treena had another idea.
The Prime was in the middle of responding to another heated query when she stood, raising her hand. The Prime caught her eye a second later, and he waved her forward. She climbed from the row, pushing past knees and feet until she escaped into the column of stairs.
“Would you like to say something, Captain Starling?” he asked, and most of the room went quiet. Treena realized just how much interest people had in her. Apparently, her story rivaled anyone’s, and she was glad she spent most of her time on her ship.
“You were saying you think that Wylen and the Ugna are hiding out at Tebas, correct?” she asked.
“That’s right,” he responded.
“What if they sent their whole fleet to Obilina Six? What if they wanted nothing more than to make Fayle space dust?” she asked.
“Then you’re suggesting Tebas would be unmanned at the moment?” Prime Xune asked.
She nodded emphatically. “We might have the chance to strike their world, and hit them where it hurts.”
“Good thinking. Starling, Constantine is loaded with a fresh Nek charge, correct?” he asked.
“That’s right, sir. We’re prepared for this mission,” she told him. Treena was nervous about taking the initial big step in the coming war, but first blood needed to be drawn at some time. She didn’t think Wylen would hesitate to attempt something bold.
“Good. Gather your crew and proceed. You have my full authority to take captives, or not… you make the call, depending on the information on hand, do you understand?” Prime Xune was tired, his eyes deep-set, his cheeks sallow. She didn’t envy him, yet she was the one undertaking immense risk for the sake of the Concord.
“We won’t disappoint,” she said, waving her crew forward. Conner stopped her outside and pointed down the corridor.
“We don’t have Brax Daak, and Ven is gone. How will we fill the spot?” Conner asked, and the door opened to reveal Commander Teller with his aide, Missy.
“You didn’t think you’d get rid of me so easily, did you?” he asked gruffly.
“Not in a million years. Conner, we have Darl on board Constantine, and Harry’s in the boiler room. The rest of the crew is in position. We’re as ready as we can be,” Treena told him, and he grinned at her.
“Then what
are we waiting for? Let’s go win a war before it starts,” Conner said as they moved toward their docked vessel.
“If you think the war hasn’t begun, then you’re a fool, Douglas,” Teller barked from a few feet behind them. He walked like one of his legs was made of wood, and his back was bent near his neck, but he kept up.
“What do you mean?” Conner asked.
“I mean these guys have been coming for us for centuries. They just decided to pull the trigger. I don’t mind the captain’s suggestion, but I doubt we’re going to find much at this Tebas,” Teller said.
“Is that so?” Treena was the first one to board Constantine, waiting for the others to join her before sealing the passageway and returning it automatically into the docking station. Conner was already pressing the comm-switch, alerting Lieutenant Darl to power the drives up. He also asked Harry to prime the Nek drive, and did it all within seconds of being on her ship. She was going to like working beside this man. It was obvious why he’d flourished under Rene Bouchard’s tutelage.
Ten minutes later, their meager crew was on the bridge, Teller’s aide helping the old man to his seat. Constantine’s AI emerged, hands on hips. “What are we doing?”
“We’re hitting Tebas. Maybe Wylen left his training post open for a stomping,” Treena told him.
Constantine nodded twice. “I’ve seen the latest crew manifest. Obviously, there have been some tweaks, but can I ask where Brax Daak is?”
“Brax was taken with Captain… Admiral Baldwin on an emergency mission to Obilina Six. It’s just us, Con,” she told the AI.
“Do you want me to sit in for Brax? I am plugged into the ship and have an intuitive weapons functionality unlike…”
She raised a hand, cutting him off, and smiled at the AI projection. “Happy to have you aboard, Executive Lieutenant Baldwin.”
The phony title seemed to inspire the AI of Tom’s grandfather, and he had a bounce in his step as he moved for Brax’s position near the far wall.
“Lieutenant Darl, everything set?” Treena took her chair, sending a communication to engineering after Darl claimed they were ready to depart Earon Station.
Baldwin's Legacy: The Complete Series Page 140