The Darkness: The Conglomerate Trilogy (Volume 2)

by William S Frisbee Jr

  "Aye, aye Commander. Might take a while to get the bed resized, I don't think it is a priority," Musashi said and deleted the order he had just created.

  Luke nodded, removing his armor and weapons, placing them in the closet.

  Laying down Luke stared at the ceiling. Like on the Ultio, it showed a star scene from Earth. Looking at the constellations he named them. Orion with Betelgeuse and Rigel, Eridanus, Lepus Canis Major. The scene would rotate throughout the night.

  Closing his eyes Luke felt like he was home and his thoughts turned to Leonessa. Maybe he shouldn't have the bed reduced, it would be nice to share. Maybe.

  Luke rolled over and emptied his mind. In seconds, he was asleep.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

  Battle Singers

  Krasnal smiled, her blood singing in her veins, pleasure coursing through her muscles as the enemy ship shattered beneath the guns of her flagship. This prey had superior weapons and technology but they lacked the warrior instinct and intellect. They were much larger than Krasnal's people, the Vress, and the beasts relied on their size and strength too much. Their ships were much larger and more powerful but that was also their weakness. The prey were heavily armed and armored, but slower than pregnant turtugs and were about as maneuverable. They fought together as unfamiliar friends might, not as battle-hardened sisters. The fools had fought bravely, but they died all the same. Krasnal imagined the songs of the dying swirling into the void, the Battle Singers welcoming the new souls into their traps. Victory was its own sweet reward.

  These over-sized beasts were not the warriors they thought they were. They came from a lighter gravity world and they were not as strong as the Vress despite their size. Their ships could not fight. The race was weak, good for nothing more than hosts for the Vress broodlings.

  Regiments of combat troops would land on the planet below. They would have a much tougher fight since their prey was larger and carried superior weapons, but like their ships the prey was slower. It would be more of a challenge and only the finest warriors would survive those battles. Perhaps the prey would submit and join the forces of the Battle Singers but it was already decided that most of them would become hosts for a new generation of Vress.

  The enemy battleship began its slow fatal descent into the planet's atmosphere. Flames followed the escaping atmosphere from the ship for kilometers, dying in the vacuum. They could see it below as a ball of flames in the noon sky. There was another battleship and several destroyers that had also begun their final descent earlier. This battleship was the last. The space above this planet belonged to the Vress. One more colony system before Krasnal's battle fleet could engage the true prey.

  "Fleet Marshall," a smaller Vress sister said, drawing Krasnal's attention. Marshal Krasnal looked to the communications officer. A smaller sister with soft black carapace, her six eyes locked onto her console, her thin arms flying across the controls. Her fangs revealed her pleasure.

  "Speak Chala," Krasnal said addressing her sister by name.

  "Task force five is requesting a low pass by a strike cruiser," Chala said. "They have discovered a prey military base."

  "Assign the nearest strike cruiser," Krasnal said. "And then send in another strike cruiser for follow up."

  Krasnal stood up. Around her the crew hunkered down lower in submission. This battle was over. Now all they had to do was hunt and kill those below. It was a shame they could not have used a planet crusher but there were so few of them and they were needed elsewhere in the battle front.

  Retiring to her ready room Krasnal stared at the holographic map, spinning above the table in front of her, deep shadows in the darkness.

  "It is done?" asked a male that entered the room, his six eyes wandering around before resting on her.

  He was a much older male, weak and useless, his carapace was turning white at the edges and his eyes did not hold the fire they once had. It was past his time to die, but Krasnal had been ordered to keep him around for his advice. It was awkward having her great, great grandfather aboard her ship and she wished she could hurry and dispose of him, but he held rank and it was not her decision. He had even lost several of his fangs and could not properly eat. He had to kill his food with his hands or a weapon because he was so old and infirm. Why couldn't he hurry and die?

  "Yes," Krasnal said, refusing to acknowledge his name. "It is done. We own the system. A prey courier has escaped bearing news of their defeat and our impending invasion."

  Snakan took a deep breath, a sign of satisfaction. "The prey leadership will fear. They will send forth even more of their ships to overwhelm us, to defend their colony."

  "What if they abandon it?" Krasnal asked. "Flee back to their border where their allies will come to their defense?"

  Another deep breath, "That is acceptable too," Snakan said. "These are but petty skirmishes designed to draw out the enemy to stop us here. The real battles are yet to be fought, the real target is yet to be struck."

  "By us," Krasnal said with dissatisfaction coloring her voice.

  Snakan nodded. "The Battle Singers have been preparing for this war for a long time. They have been moving ships and weapons into place since before our people made our first stone weapons and developed a spoken language."

  Krasnal nodded, irritated.

  "Have we heard if the Battle Singers were successful in their first strikes," Krasnal asked.

  "We would have heard if they were not," Snakan said. "The ancient ones are hurt and reeling, they are afraid, their warriors are gone, their slaves are at each other's throats. Our fleets are beginning our raids, sowing fear and confusion. I am sure."

  "Except us," Krasnal said.

  Snakan closed his eyes in agreement.

  "We will be the vanguard," Snakan said. "We will give the prey a visible foe to fight and we will rend them. Those who do not join us will die. We have proven we are the fiercest warriors, and this task is ours."

  "It will take generations to conquer them," Krasnal said. "I may not even see the end."

  Snakan lowered his head.

  "You will depart now," Krasnal said, tiring of the old male. "Report to the Battle Singers that everything is according to schedule."

  "They already know," Snakan said as he backed away, never taking his eyes from Krasnal.

  When he left Krasnal curled up in the corner sleeping area and turned up the lights.

  * * * * *

  Falla Shum opened his eyes. He could feel his blood racing, his hearts pounding. That battleship had been a Bronkaw battleship. He could still see it in his mind's eye. The Vress were fighting the Bronkaw, and they were the ones behind the silence of the Tal systems.

  Staring at the wall Falla Shum bowed his head. The Battle Singers were returning. He could still feel the pleasure of battle coursing through his veins, he could hear and understand their song. He wanted to turn down the lights, to live in the dark like the Vress. The Vress were nocturnal predators, perhaps smaller than humans, and they relied on ferocity, teamwork, and cunning to bring down stronger prey.

  Krasnal was a Grand Marshal of but one Vress fleet and Falla Shum knew there were others. He had felt that in her mind. They were strong and proud. They sought challenges, and they feared nothing but the Battle Singers.

  What had Snakan meant when he said the Battle Singers already knew? Krasnal knew there were no Battle Singers in the fleet, or perhaps even in the system. Did they have another kind of faster than light communication?

  Taking another deep breath Shum again let the pleasure of a successful battle flow through his veins. What would it be like to command warships that could destroy all that opposed them? To have the choice of accepting surrender, to prove who is evolving more efficiently. The Battle Singers rewarded competence and skill, they challenged their followers and did not restrain their warriors. Battle Singers strove to cut away the weakness, the stagnation and the evolutionary dead-ends. They did not kill indiscriminately or with pleasure, instead they orchestrat
ed battles carefully, choreographing the dying.

  Shum could feel the freedom of that path. The satisfaction of knowing where you stood and why.

  His thoughts turned back to Snakan and his last comments. Were the Battle Singers like the Pral? Did they also live other lives? Was Snakan one of the Battle Singer's lives?

  That was a frightening thought. Information on the Battle Singers was a closely guarded Pral secret that Shum had no access to. Is that why he was considered Falla? Because the Topa had detected somehow that one of his lives was with the Battle Singers and they were returning? Had a Falla ever joined the Battle Singers?

  Would they accept him as one of their warriors?

  The Conglomerate was weak and dying, none could doubt that. The elimination of the Tal would further accelerate that death. Shum knew something great would rise from the ashes. Strength could grow from weakness but the real weakness had to be cut away, destroyed and that would be a painful process. Did the Topa know and see this? How could they not? Was it then time for the Conglomerate to change, to evolve, to cut away the weakness and be strong again?

  Perhaps that is why Topa Suresh had not had him killed. That would make the most sense.

  Relaxing his body Shum emptied his mind to calm himself. He would find more information on the Battle Singers. There had to be more information. Perhaps he could delve into Krasnal's memories and knowledge.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

  Crusader

  Bruce sat in his cocoon staring at the surrounding bridge. The Proud Infidel's back had been broken and she would never hunt again. He rubbed the armrest of his seat like a lover. How many years had he owned her? Since before New Alamo had come to Conglomerate space. He knew every panel, every bolt, every weapon, every scar and now her fighting days were over. A proud warrior, crushed by battle, unable to defend herself or others any longer. The Nalee had provided a repair estimate. A new ship would be cheaper. His two bridge officer droids stared at their panels, ignoring him, their attention on repairs or space around the Proud Infidel. His crew had been human, and this had been a Jupiter Alliance fast attack battleship. The classifications were different in the Jupiter Alliance compared to the Conglomerate because the Conglomerate built them bigger and expected the ships to last generations, not a few intense battles.

  Luke had a Conglomerate battleship. Bruce wanted to say he deserved it instead but if he would be honest with himself he knew why. Luke was a good mercenary, not a regular fleet officer, and that was a key difference. Fleet officers were steady working their way through the service but a Mercenary was unpredictable and didn't always play by the rules. Luke deserved it but Bruce couldn't help thinking about how useful it would be in the fight against the Caliphate. Luke might be able to take on the Caliphate all by himself and here Bruce was in a ship with a broken back. It wasn't fair, but it was the hand he had been dealt.

  The contract with the Topa stated that in the event his vessel was damaged, it would be repaired, if it was destroyed it would be replaced, but the Topa didn't favor him. After having spent a month with Luke, it made sense. Luke didn't kiss ass, and he didn't hide his thoughts, he could even be tactful, but he wouldn't be fake. Fleet officers had to deal with the political and social aspects of an organized military service and Bruce could see so many ways that Luke was unsuitable for a high rank. At least he had a better idea of how to deal with the Topa.

  Now if only Luke would release him from duty he could begin the journey back to New Alamo. If Topa Suresh was still alive, he could be petitioned to replace or repair the Proud Infidel. It would be safe enough to travel back if he stayed in Conglomerate space although it would take longer, maybe two months total. His scowl deepened since he would likely miss the attack against the Caliphate.

  None of this was worth the loss of the Proud Infidel. For what must have been the thousandth time he replayed the battles in his mind. There was nothing he could have done different. Pure luck had allowed them to survive when they should have died. Twice, once after they entered dark space and then when they had left it. He had never imagined he would outlive the Proud Infidel. Not so long ago outliving his ship had been unthinkable.

  Looking up at the holographic display it showed the Tigress, slowly spinning a graceful warrior dancing on his screen. He hadn't been over to see it yet. He listened as Ensign One authorized another shuttle to depart the Proud Infidel to take supplies and warbots to the Tigress. His internal display popped up a window showing it was some of Luke's Marine officers, Commodore Morals and Commander Pavlis. Good riddance, Bruce thought. The spooks were gone, now he could fumigate their quarters.

  Luke had offered to give him a frigate to take him back to New Alamo but Bruce had turned down the offer. He couldn't abandon the Proud Infidel and Luke would probably need the frigate.

  A message from the Sandla Corporation arrived. They were the group that owned about a quarter of the Nalee shipyards, rich pompous bastards.

  Bruce sighed. It was probably a message telling him to either authorize full repairs or get his scrap pile out of their dock. He was supposed to be debating having additional cargo space installed. The Proud Infidel might not sustain high speed, high gravity maneuvers, but she still had good engines and might yet survive as a merchant ship. An ignoble death for a venerable warrior.

  Might as well see what the damned Sandla Corporation reps wanted.

  Bruce opened the message from Eeras. The little bird was requesting an audience. Probably wanted to tell Bruce in person to pay up or get out. Bruce sent a response saying he would be available in an hour and Eeras immediately replied he would be at the Proud Infidel's airlock at that time.

  Rubbing his arm rest Bruce looked around him. For close to fifty years this had been his home. Fifty years is a long time to be married to a ship. His soul was here. Topa Suresh would probably commission the Broma to build him a ponderous battle cruiser. It would be tough and capable. Bruce looked around and sighed. Damn. He would miss his lady.

  * * * * *

  "Shoka-ta Bruce Simmons?" Eeras asked as the airlock door slid open and Bruce and Erica stepped out onto the station. It smelled of lizards and apples. Another Nalee stood behind him, a witness, typical of Conglomerate business practices.

  "Yes," Bruce said, bracing himself for the bad news. "How can I help you?"

  Eeras nodded. "I would like to apologize for the confusion as we had to seek confirmation and the Topa are very busy with other issues in the Conglomerate right now."

  Bruce nodded. Excuses, couldn't they get to the point? He had decided. Why had the little bird mentioned the Topa?

  "We have been authorized to provide you the battle cruiser that Topa Suresh had commissioned," Eeras said.

  "What?" Bruce said, his mind going to the battle cruiser on the port side of the Proud Infidel. "What battle cruiser?"

  "It is docked next to you," Eeras said. A file arrived in Bruce's queue from the Sandla Corporation. It contained specifications on the battle cruiser and Bruce looked it over.

  "Will this be a sufficient replacement for your current vessel?" Eeras asked. "I believe the contract stated if your vessel was destroyed or severely damaged it would be replaced? Would this be sufficient?"

  "Yes," Bruce said going over the specs as he a warm glow spread through his body. The ship wasn't a battleship, but she was a top of the line Conglomerate warship. "I could kiss Topa Suresh right now."

  "I'm sorry," Eeras said, with a twitch showing disgust at Bruce's comment. "Topa Suresh is missing. It was Topa Saka that allowed the transfer."

  It was like cold water being splashed in Bruce's face.

  "Topa Suresh is missing?" Bruce asked.

  Eeras nodded. "Topa Saka did not provide details. Would you like to inspect your new vessel?"

  Bruce glanced at Erica, trying to keep the grin from his face, but she grinned back at him. There was nothing he could do about Topa Suresh with a broken ship, but now?

  "Most definitely," Bruce said an
d sent a message to Kevin Thomson letting him know he was in charge until Bruce returned.

  "You already have a name, don't you?" Erica asked.

  "The Crusader," Bruce said with a smile and a bounce in his step.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

  Tigress

  Luke woke up well rested. Sitting up on the edge of his bed he did a quick review of his queue. Anything critical would have awoken him, or Musashi would have.

  One was a message from Bruce saying that Topa Suresh was reported as missing and that Topa Saka had authorized a new Nalee vessel to replace the Proud Infidel. In fact, the battle cruiser on the other side of the Proud Infidel, now the Crusader was his, or New Alamo depending on how that worked.

  Luke was glad for Bruce, but Topa Suresh was missing?

  What did that mean? There was nothing in the contract about civil war, or the Topa that had created the contract going missing. Luke would continue with the mission but this was unusual, and it was the first time he had ever heard of a Topa going missing.

  He sent congratulations to Bruce. There was so much to do aboard the Tigress.

  "Meat sack," Musashi transmitted. "Get your lazy fat ass into the dojo. You haven't had a good work out in a while. I hope you are well rested."

  Luke smiled. "Well metal head, do you have rag dolls to challenge me with?"

  "I will have fun," Musashi transmitted. "Time to harden you back up. The Ultio's data core has been uploaded as well and the ship AI's are adapting it to the Tigress."

  "Excellent," Luke sent back. "Anything else?"

  "Yes," Musashi sent. "Morals and Pavlis are aboard the Tigress and in their rooms sleeping."

  Luke scowled. Leaving them on the Proud Infidel would have been preferable. Although Pavlis didn't seem like a bad guy, he was just quiet. Morals though was a problem.

  "Now you have slept in," Musashi said. "You should be well rested."