Inherit the Stars

by Tony Peak

  The operations staff looked at one another with pinched expressions. One of them cleared his throat and spoke.

  “Commander Vuul, Captain Jaah may have a point. The basis for the Vim signal we detected from Vstrunn contained a powerful brain-pulse signature. It came from a Savant of a magnitude never recorded. This signal contains the coordinates taken by the Inheritor battleship.”

  Vuul’s brows knitted together. “So you theorize that the Inheritors plan to use Kivita Vondir for more such signals?”

  The three Archivers talked among themselves.

  “Well?” Vuul glared at the Archivers.

  “The Inheritors are known only to execute Savants, though intelligence reports state that they may keep some in captivity,” Qaan replied.

  Seul almost stepped forward, then remembered herself. “But the Inheritors hired Kivita—”

  “There can be no doubt they are mounting an assault on our worlds. Any warning message sent will not reach Aldaakian Space in time.” Vuul’s words left a tense silence on the bridge.

  Seul waited out of respect and protocol, but she burned inside. Didn’t he understand what was at stake? Without Kivita or the Vim, there would soon be no Aldaakian worlds to defend. Bravery and discipline were no longer enough. Her people needed help this time.

  “Your orders, Commander Vuul?” one of the staff asked.

  “Aldaar will pursue the Inheritor battleship. Kivita Vondir must be eliminated.” Vuul paced the bridge, hands behind his back.

  A weight plummeted in Seul’s gut but she gazed at Vuul, unflinching. “Commander Vuul, Kivita is the very thing all Aldaakians have been hoping for. We must save her.”

  “We cannot engage in combat with such a larger ship,” one of the Archivers mumbled. “It measures over four thousand feet and bristles with kinetic gun batteries. One broadside from it would cripple us.”

  “We should retreat to Aldaakian Space and regroup with our fleets, Commander Vuul,” a staff officer said. “To follow that battleship would be suicide. Kivita Vondir’s fate is out of our hands.”

  Qaan straightened. “No. She cannot be allowed—”

  “You all have your orders.” Vuul sat in his command chair.

  Seul’s cryoports clicked shut, and she stepped before Vuul’s chair. “We have fought for our survival for centuries, and adapted our race to starships and cryopods, just to keep running? Niaaq Aldaar never retreated. He fought the Sarrhdtuu against all—”

  “That is enough, Captain,” Vuul said.

  “It is never enough! We’ve allowed the Sarrhdtuu to corner us here in the Cetturo Arm. This is our one chance.”

  Vuul rose from the chair, white-within-azure eyes receding into a contorted face. “Are you implying I am unfit for the command of this vessel?”

  Seul met his stare. “I’m saying we follow those coordinates and help Kivita, Commander Vuul. How can we stand by and argue while the Inheritors—and perhaps the Sarrhdtuu—rush to those same coordinates? What if they lead to a Vim ship or a colony? What if the Vim appear, after so long an absence, and their old allies are not there to stand with them?”

  “I am not a coward!” Vuul roared.

  “Then what is it you fear?” Seul asked.

  Troopers and operations staff gaped at her.

  “They must know . . . Commander Vuul,” Qaan said.

  Vuul turned his back on Seul. “Tell them,” he whispered.

  Qaan clasped his chit booklet in both hands. “Before the Fall of Khaasis, the Sarrhdtuu had difficulty in defeating our fleets. Our Troopers prevailed; our vessels held firm. We took the battle to them, thus safeguarding our worlds. It was our undoing.”

  Everyone on the bridge listened, as still as cryo ice sculptures. Seul’s anger subsided, and her cryoports relaxed. The Fall of Khaasis had always been blamed on Sarrhdtuu aggression; this information wasn’t part of the Archivers’ curriculum.

  “In our zeal we left the Vim undefended. We left Khaasis undefended.” Qaan raised the booklet over his head, and his normally rough voice cracked. “Undefended not from starships, but from within. They turned our ships against us, controlling our vessels by thought alone. We underestimated the Sarrhdtuu. They used human Savants to undermine and weaken us.”

  “Kivita activated the Vim signal. She isn’t being used by anyone,” Seul said.

  Qaan continued as if she’d not spoken. “The Sarrhdtuu crushed any who made a stand. Niaaq Aldaar and his Troopers held off many ships while the survivors escaped in colony-ship caravans . . .”

  Vuul turned back around, an ageless guilt in his eyes. “A Sarrhdtuu fleet attacked our ancestors. Something caused many of their ships to crash into one another. An image was transmitted to some of the surviving craft.” He nodded to Qaan, who opened his chit booklet.

  The display screen inside the booklet showed a bloodied human male wrapped in gray-green coils. He knelt on what appeared to be the deck of a Sarrhdtuu ship. The agony on his face made Seul’s cryoports clamp shut.

  In the human’s hands was the Juxj Star.

  Seul blinked. Kivita had shown impressive piloting skills over Umiracan and Tejuit—too impressive for a salvage trawler to handle, much less while damaged. No. Kivita had to be the one.

  “I have kept watch over Vstrunn for decades,” Vuul said. “Now you know why I have attacked any humans who made it off the planet’s surface. Those the Kith did not kill, we eliminated. The Juxj Star was safe.”

  “We have guarded the very thing that might have destroyed us and the Vim. It might yet destroy us.” Qaan’s shoulders sagged.

  “Perhaps we are destroying ourselves.” Seul’s fingers brushed her cryoports.

  The tension on the bridge gave way to shamed, crestfallen visages. Even before Seul’s birth, Archivers surmised that the Aldaakians had failed the Vim, failed to fight the Sarrhdtuu with every last ounce of Aldaakian blood. So many worlds had fallen, so many fleets reduced to space dust.

  It would end. No more running. Seul swore it. The silent oath filled her with strength.

  Vuul said nothing and stared at a flat display. Reaching out toward him, Seul hesitated. What was she doing? Kivita wouldn’t have hesitated. A well of inner strength burst forth and she touched his shoulder.

  “Let us investigate Kivita’s signal. She isn’t the enemy. Let us reclaim the honor of our ancestors, but not for ourselves. For those who come after.”

  “Have all crew wakened one hour before we exit the jump,” Vuul finally said in a low voice. “Send a message to our people that Aldaar is taking action, and then follow that battleship’s last beacon trajectory.”

  The operations staff lost their stunned looks and obeyed Vuul’s orders. Within moments Aldaar shuddered as it made a light jump.

  “To your cryopods, everyone.” Vuul glanced at Seul. “Save for you, Captain Jaah.”

  While everyone else filed out, she maintained her erect stature.

  The bridge door hissed shut, and running lights dimmed as Aldaar prepped to shut down life support. The entire crew would enter cryostasis this time.

  “I know you’re not a coward,” she whispered, eyes forward.

  “And I know the hope you hold out for this human woman,” Vuul whispered back. “Once, I too possessed similar hopes.”

  They looked at each other. Aldaar’s running lights illuminated Vuul’s face in forlorn, blue-gray shades.

  “Only once?” Seul asked.

  Vuul looked away and placed his hands behind his back.

  “Captain Jaah, you will have overall command of Shock Trooper squads, should the need arise to engage the enemy. Find Kivita Vondir and the Juxj Star. The order for her execution . . . is rescinded.”

  Seul nodded and gesticulated between her chest cryoports, a new strength blazing into her heart. “It is done, Commander Vuul.”

  F
or the first time, Vuul smiled at her.

  26

  “You can’t escape!”

  Kivita laughed and tickled Basheev, the dark-skinned Dirr boy, on the observation deck. After he squirmed into a corner beside a six-foot tall indigo hibiscus, she pretended to lose interest, then turned and tickled his armpits. Laughing, Basheev fled behind the two Naxan women, who mused over potting soils.

  “Look here: there is to be no playing around these plants!” called Maihh, the head Naxan horticulturalist. Her gray hair was tied back in a bun, which shook when she moved. A green-and-yellow dress draped her thin frame.

  “C’mon, let’s go,” Kivita said, but Basheev laughed and shook his head.

  Maihh clicked twice and crossed her arms. “You are standing too close to that golden rhododendron, young man. It is a rare species.”

  Hands on hips, Kivita leaned toward the flower. With their mauve petals and brilliant yellow buds, the rhododendrons reminded her of her childhood. Rhyer had always brought back flowers from his travels, though often in small containers. This bush came to her shoulder, and had an eight-foot diameter. Kivita reached out to it, trying to imagine its native world.

  Maihh lightly slapped Kivita’s hand away. “They only remain as beautiful as you are, my dear, because they remain untouched.” She clicked once and grinned at Kivita.

  “I’m still amazed at the work you do.” Kivita steered Basheev away from the rhododendron. “I’ve never seen such flowers.”

  “Nax is all desert, so my people had to master plants before we could master ourselves. Life is easier to cherish when it is so frail. So similar to us Thedes. Have you enjoyed your stay with us so far?” Maihh clicked twice.

  Gazing around the observation deck, Kivita nodded. “It’s like another world aboard this ship.” From the corner of her eye, she spied Basheev trying to sneak away.

  “Gotcha!” Kivita grabbed Basheev and tickled his belly. In his struggles, the boy’s hand brushed a hibiscus blossom.

  Maihh clicked three times, while the other Naxan woman shouted and waved her hands in the air. Laughing, Kivita and Basheev rushed through the circular door. They almost knocked over Jandeel in the adjoining corridor.

  “You’ll be banned from that room yet,” Jandeel chided with a smile. “May we go to the library now?”

  Kivita tousled Basheev’s head before he ran off. “Yeah, yeah. I just ate after waking from cryosleep. Kinda hoped for a little relaxation before we started again.”

  Jandeel frowned. “I realize we’re asking much of you. The Sages on board, including me, want more information to study from that Juxj Star. Believe me. I wish I could do this myself. But we don’t know what awaits us at the end of this jump. We must be prepared.”

  “Yeah, you’re right.” Kivita paused and considered how far she’d progressed. Eight Haldon months had passed, with four months of it spent in cryostasis. Navon, Jandeel, and the others had taught her much about the Thede ambition: sharing knowledge with all, so everyone could be equal and content. Though not certain about such a lofty philosophy, Kivita relished the sense of community aboard Luccan’s Wish.

  Each time she saw the Thede children, like Basheev, Kivita thought of Sar. His lie about being sterile, or what he would think of her, the daughter of a long-dead queen. A princess without a crown, without a throne. Without her swarthy, curly-haired king.

  “Are you well?” Jandeel asked, concern in his eyes.

  “Still taking it all in, you know?” She gestured at the ship around them.

  Jandeel smiled. “Let’s grab a drink before you give the other Savants more tasks.”

  As they walked through pressurized corridors and chambers, people smiled at Kivita. Everyone knew her Savant talents, which now exceeded even Navon’s. But how much longer could she handle all this attention? Gifts had been placed in her chambers: flowers, a Tannocci marriage contract requesting her hand, and even a lock of Ascali hair, a potent symbol of respect.

  Why did they think she deserved all this?

  She returned the smiles, but despite the new friendships and attention, Kivita missed the hammock on Terredyn Narbas, and Sar’s mysterious smirk. She hoped he was . . . well, she just hoped.

  In the galley two other Sages stopped Jandeel and whispered to him. Kivita smiled at them and blew a kiss to Basheev. He shied away, then blew it back. The air smelled cleaner since her knowledge about the improved air scrubber had been put to use. As she neared the serving counter, the Dirr serving woman, Rhii, grinned.

  “Stars shine and twinkle, miss! No wonder Basheev ran in here with that smile. I see you still have that Dirr braid I plaited for you.” Rhii handed her a cup of wood-snake milk; Kivita now loved the thick drink.

  “I might add one on the other side, too.” Kivita touched the small, plaited tress dangling from her right temple.

  Rhii grinned wider. “Stars blinking, miss! Beware of the third braid. Only married Dirr women plait three into their hair.”

  Cheseia stepped up to the bar beside Kivita. “I hear your studies have truly come along?” Since volunteering for the maintenance staff, Cheseia’s cryostasis shift remained a month away. The beautiful Ascali hadn’t aged in a noticeable way—save for her eyes. Those exhausted russet orbs always seemed occupied.

  “Yeah, you wouldn’t believe the things I’ve seen. Hey, you look tired. You okay?”

  “I am definitely fine.” Cheseia touched Kivita’s braid. “You are so radiantly vibrant here. I must honestly admit, when I first saw you . . .”

  Kivita smiled wanly. “Yeah, I know. I was a scruffy salvager tramp.”

  Cheseia squeezed Kivita’s hand. “Now I know you thankfully are not. You are truly honorable.” The Ascali released her grip and accepted a cup of jiir juice from Rhii.

  “I . . . thanks. Hey, you going to the gym later? I liked that last workout we had.” Kivita gulped her milk to alleviate the sudden dryness in her mouth.

  “Yes, but now I must surely go to Level Two and continue my duties.” After touching Kivita’s braid again, she left.

  Kivita sipped her milk, eyeing the Ascali’s departing form as pride swelled in her chest. To think they’d once been enemies.

  “Winking stars, but I still remember when Sar saved my boy and me from that Inheritor blockade,” Rhii said. “Darkest stars, it was near Susuron, maybe thirteen Haldon years ago. Basheev was no taller than your knees, miss.”

  “Really?” Taking another drink, Kivita’s pride deflated. All this time she’d hated Sar, cursed him, and he’d been saving people. Making a difference while she’d slept in cryo or caroused in dingy spaceports.

  Jandeel joined her at the bar and accepted a mug of reed ale. “Everyone is growing more excited as we draw closer to those coordinates. People will grow more nervous, too. Everyone wants to know what’s coming.”

  “Guess that’s where I come in.” Kivita finished her drink. “C’mon, let’s go visit my favorite gem.”

  After exiting the galley and taking an elevator to Level Six, Kivita and Jandeel entered the ship’s library. Sages, students, and Savants looked up from their studies. She was dressed in a blue skinsuit and chaps, and more than a few admiring stares came her way. Her cheeks warmed.

  “Yeah, okay, so you know I’m in here.” She smiled. Everyone chuckled and grinned back.

  Jandeel sat at a desk with four other Sages, and three male Savants sat on a bench opposite them. The students all waited, holding computer chits and glue pens. Kivita still felt uncomfortable while these people paid attention to her words, even the inflection of her voice, every time she described her visions.

  Entering from another door, Navon smiled at Kivita. “I see Jandeel finally discovered you?”

  Kivita sat on a grass mat in the center of the room. “Sorry I’m late. What’s the lesson this time?”

  A Naxan Sage dressed in everg
reen robes cleared his throat. “Come, now, my dear. You promised to reveal the genus of the Haldon red-grain seed from the Juxj Star.” He emitted three clicks.

  Jandeel frowned and rubbed his chin. “What of those details about energy dumps?”

  A Tahe Sage, her slender form swathed in white cloth, spoke. “We require new engines to test such theories, Jandeel. The resources are not present aboard this ship.”

  “I suggest we let Kivita focus on her former transmissions,” Navon said. “Perhaps a hint at what this Vim signal is and the coordinates we are headed toward will be gleaned.”

  Kivita waited while Jandeel placed the Juxj Star on the mat beside her. Though she’d uncovered minor data from it since her first meeting with Navon, no further probing of its deeper knowledge had been attempted.

  Everyone sat still, watching her. Waiting. Her heartbeat raced. She swallowed. No matter how many times she did this, Kivita knew she’d never get used to it.

  Laying her palm over the gem’s surface, Kivita closed her eyes, and a slight tingling traveled across her temples. Weeks of training allowed her to resist the cold throb in her skull. With acute focus, she skipped past the datacore’s outer information layers.

  Her skin numbed. Sounds around her faded.

  The image of figures in white exoskeletons returned, one Kivita hadn’t seen since touching the datacores near Xeh’s Crown. The shapes moved with mechanical precision, lifting huge steel girders and beams. Other forms walked around the base of the figure, carrying tools and satchels. Upturned earth and mortared foundations waited nearby. Tall, angular buildings and ordered forests riddled the landscape around the worksite.

  Kivita let out a slow breath. Focus, attune, absorb, like Navon had taught her. The frigid ache in her temples dissipated.

  The image morphed into one where the buildings had been gutted and burned. Several large colony ships lifted off barren soil now devoid of foliage. The ships exited the atmosphere and hung in space, where spiral arms filled with blue, yellow, and orange stars blinked. The colony ships departed the dying world.