Inherit the Stars

by Tony Peak

  Sar took Bredine’s arm. “Track Kiv. And keep still.” They headed for the lift tube.

  “Sar?” Jandeel called after him.

  Sar turned as an explosion rocked the shaft. Faint light flickered from another entrance.

  “Luccan’s dream will die on this ship if Kivita does.” Jandeel stepped back into Frevyx, and its airlock hissed shut.

  Sar wasn’t sure of his own survival or Kivita’s. The only certainty remained the one he’d felt since Kivita had kissed him at Tejuit. The certainty of regret, and of what he should’ve told Kivita all along.

  33

  A shot whizzed past from the chamber ahead and Seul ducked back into the corridor. Point One’s faceplate shattered and he keeled over. Another Trooper collapsed, blood seeping from her cuirass. More shots zipped into the corridor, striking two more Troopers. Shrapnel dusted Seul’s polyarmor.

  “Point Two, Flanks Three through Six: lay down a suppressing fire! Point Three, follow me in after the first barrage!” Seul waited until her Troopers fired green beams into the next chamber. Screams and the hiss of sliced, burned bodies reached her helmet’s aural sensors. By the void, was every Inheritor aboard this ship?

  “Go!” She ducked and charged into the chamber where several Inheritor soldiers lay dead. More than a dozen others aimed kinetic pistols at her.

  Seul fired, sweeping the rifle in a horizontal line. Four humans hit the floor, heads cut from their bodies. A shot grazed her right thigh armor, but Point Three charged in and mowed down three more Inheritors. The humans fired again, then fled into the next corridor. Flanks Four and Five crashed to the floor, both shot through the chest.

  “Secure the area,” Seul said as she stood. A wide observation deck, forty feet high, rose around them. Rectangular viewports offered a wonderful view of the gas giant, but with the ship’s tilting, she and her Troopers had to keep their boots magnetized or else walk on the viewports themselves.

  Flank Three dispatched wounded humans with her blade while others checked corners for hidden enemies. Potted plants and flowers filled the deck; some had been burned in the brief exchange. Their gaudy, colorful bulbs and petals seemed a waste. Who would rear plants for beauty but not food or medicine?

  The real waste, of smoking bodies and still forms, lay around her. One dead Inheritor soldier clutched a carved wooden statuette. What was that likeness? It seemed familiar, like something from a cryo dream. Another soldier moaned a prayer to the Vim before Flank Three ended his life.

  “Fools,” she mumbled, then studied her own Troopers. Just like the Inheritors, they wanted reunification with the Vim.

  What did she really believe? Was it worth all this death? Seul’s jaw tightened, and she had to look away from the shattered bodies. She’d see these faces, friend and foe alike, in her dreams.

  Were Kael and her daughter worth it?

  They had to be. What else was there to die for? Victory could be had as long as she still drew breath. First she had to find Kivita.

  Her helmet speaker crackled and popped. “Vuul here . . . and it isn’t . . . Qaan says the Vim derelict is siphoning . . . Jaah, give . . . status report.”

  Seul sighed in relief; Aldaar still waited outside. “We’ve reached Level Eight, and so far we’ve encountered nothing but dead Thedes and a platoon of Inheritor soldiers. Squad A has all been killed or wounded, and Squad B has two dead. Squads C and D have been completely annihilated.”

  Through spotty radio contact, she’d heard Squad C and D’s last moments near the engine-module breach. Such losses meant several human platoons had infiltrated the ship. She feared the Inheritors might have taken Kivita already, considering their stubborn resistance.

  “Captain Jaah, everyone’s rifles are on one-quarter power,” Point Three said.

  “Cannibalize guns from the Inheritor dead,” Seul said. Dents and graze marks, as well as frozen blood, scarred her polyarmor. Bruises protested along her left side from a close melee with Inheritors two corridors back. These human zealots demanded lives for each area relinquished.

  Seul studied the brain-pulse readout on her collar’s extended lip. “Scanner shows several Savants and the Juxj Star are on this deck. Form up, everyone.”

  As her Troopers reformed ranks, Seul’s helmet speaker buzzed. “. . . commit evasive . . . Jaah, engaged with . . . aft batteries are gone . . . retrieve Vondir and . . .” Vuul’s voice cut out.

  Swallowing, Seul tapped her arm panel. “Commander Vuul?” If Aldaar was in distress, then what about the assault shuttles? She tapped the panel again with a trembling finger. “Officer Kael? Kael, do you read me?”

  A low hum came over the speaker, building into a stream of musical notes, whispered words, and machinelike jingles. Some invisible force made the entire starship vibrate, and Seul wanted to cover her ears. As soon as it began, it stopped.

  The brain analyzer went off the meter, as if twenty Savants waited in the adjacent chamber. It had to be Kivita.

  “Go!” she shouted, leading her Troopers in a run. The next corridor entrance hissed open. Kinetic shots rained down on her squad.

  Seul hunkered down and shot down two Inheritors in a smoky haze. Their bodies floated in place, their polyboots still magnetically gripping the floor. A shot struck inches from her left leg. Shrapnel pinged against her armor. She flinched and scooted to the right.

  Her rifle’s ammo counter was empty.

  “Kael . . .” Drawing her sword, Seul charged through the haze.

  • • •

  Dunaar leaned forward in his seat, gazing out the viewport as Arcuri’s Glory closed with the Aldaakian cruiser. “Fire again, Captain Stiego. Their airlocks this time. I do not want any of their shuttles returning.”

  Alarm lights drowned the bridge in red hues as Stiego’s holo monocle displayed the sights for the port-side K-gun battery.

  “Concussive sabots,” Stiego said. The security officer nodded, and the console beeped. Three shots sped toward the Aldaakian craft, where four breaches along its hull marked the first salvo’s results.

  Dunaar smirked. “The fools must have thought to delay us.”

  A green beam flashed from the Aldaakian cruiser. Arcuri’s Glory shook, and breach klaxons rang along the terminals.

  “Damage?” Stiego’s monocle flickered on and off. “Dammit, man, answer me!”

  One of the staff hunched over his console. “Cryo Chamber Eight has been compromised on Deck Two, Captain. The breach has been contained and the surrounding chambers sealed off.”

  Through the viewport, he could see the sabot rounds crash into the Aldaakian cruiser. Armor plating, hull, and mangled debris spilled out into space. The vessel reeled to starboard, while three assault shuttles maintained a close screen around it.

  Dunaar licked sweat from his lips. So the Aldaakians wanted to steal what the Vim had sent the faithful? Let the pallid infidels try. “What news from the Thede vessel?”

  “Rector, the Vim derelict’s signal has cut off all communication with our troops,” Stiego replied.

  “What?” Dunaar rose. Were the holy ones themselves aboard the derelict? Had he done something wrong? Sweat ran down his legs and pooled in his slippers. “Play the signal on the bridge speakers.”

  Stiego cleared his throat. “Rector, it might—”

  “Play it!”

  Stiego nodded to an officer, who switched the signal to the speakers. Voices whispering in an unknown, guttural language; high-pitched musical notes; and metallic pings blasted through them. The hair on Dunaar’s neck prickled; his vision blurred. The barrage pierced his mind and demanded something of him. Dunaar covered his ears until it ended.

  Everyone on the bridge stared out the viewport in stunned silence.

  “What in the name of the sainted Vim was that?” Dunaar frowned as the Aldaakian cruiser repositioned itself. “Is that some sort
of new Aldaakian weapon? That could not have been the Vim speaking to us!”

  “Signal from unknown origin, Rector,” the nav officer replied.

  An awful chill gripped Dunaar. Was this a message from the enemies Bredine had warned him about?

  Stiego moved beside him, face pinched with worry. “Rector, almost three platoons have been destroyed at last report. The Aldaakians on board the Thede ship cannot escape. Perhaps a short truce to negotiate for the Savant?”

  “How do you expect us to redeem ourselves in the eyes of the Vim? We have the upper hand here, Captain. I shall have Kivita Vondir if I have to sacrifice every soldier aboard. Their martyrdom will not be in vain.” Dunaar gripped the Scepter with slick fingers.

  “Rector, a Sarrhdtuu ship has entered the system,” the nav officer said. “Their leader wishes to speak with you.”

  “I shall converse with him here on the bridge.” Pride surged through his body, puffing his chest and filling his lungs. With the Thede leadership doomed, and Aldaakian military might being swatted aside, Dunaar had only to give Kivita to Zhhl. Then the Inheritors would take over the Cetturo Arm once and for all.

  All humanity would be redeemed and ready to meet the Vim.

  “Have faith, my children. What you have seen in this system is a sure sign from the Vim themselves.” He smiled, though sweat dripped over his parted lips. The bridge’s holographic display activated.

  Zhhl’s image flickered into the air before Dunaar. It had only two coils and two eyes this time. The hologram possessed a misshapen continuity, as if another frequency mixed with it.

  “Prophet of Meh Sat. Our scanners indicate the Juxj Star is still aboard the Thede starship. Kivita Vondir would not have abandoned it. Your soldiers must act faster.”

  Dunaar smiled. “My followers shall acquire it. Regardless of whether the Shock Troopers are victorious, they will have great difficulty once their cruiser is destroyed. They cannot escape.”

  Zhhl’s holographic coils lashed out at Dunaar. “Do not tarry, Prophet of Meh Sat.”

  Annoyance made Dunaar’s ears burn. “The Aldaakians will not just hand Kivita and the datacore over. They have one measly cruiser. Patience, Zhhl.”

  “You must destroy the Aldaakian cruiser. No delays. We await your maneuvers, Prophet of Meh Sat.” The hologram faded out.

  Dunaar fingered the Scepter. The Sarrhdtuu had never shone such anxiety before.

  “Captain Stiego, close with that Aldaakian cruiser and engage,” Dunaar said. “Ensure that nothing remains.”

  34

  Gravity fluxed up or down every few seconds in the corridor that Kivita entered with Navon. Cheseia and Rhii checked the next circular door, while Basheev and four others leaned against the bulkheads, faces ashen.

  “What do you see?” Navon asked Cheseia.

  “Everything seems truly fine.” Cheseia pointed out the door window.

  “Stars blinding, we’re on Level Eight now. I think we should run straight for Frevyx, miss.” Rhii clutched Basheev, who stared off into space. Kivita knew the child would never forget these horrors. None of them would.

  Kivita steadied herself against a bulkhead while datacore imagery passed through her mind. Though she’d learned to bury such data until she needed it, it now flowed through her thoughts with ever-increasing intensity—ever since she’d heard the strange whispers and sounds. Kivita almost mouthed some of the coordinates, until Navon touched her hand.

  “Who do you think cut the flexi line?” she asked.

  “I do not know, but we must continue,” Navon said. “Kivita, you are sending strange data to my mind. I cannot think clearly.”

  “Yeah, sorry. I don’t know why I’m doing that. Just nervous, and . . . you know. Airlock Eight should be just a few chambers away. I know Frevyx’s airlock code.” Kivita brushed past the others, but Navon barred her path.

  “Then you should share it with the rest of us. There’s no telling what might happen between here and there.” Navon’s firm voice contrasted with the genuine apology in his eyes.

  Cheseia stood behind Kivita. “I also certainly know it.”

  Rhii scowled at Cheseia. The others turned away.

  “No, he’s right. Here.” Focusing on the keypad sequence, Kivita broadcast it into the thoughts of everyone in the corridor. During her training on Luccan’s Wish, she’d always transmitted data to willing minds. While escaping from Shekelor over Tejuit, it had been the opposite. But Kivita swore she’d never abuse it.

  “Now you know why you are so important.” Navon moved from her path.

  “Yeah. C’mon, let’s go.” Kivita pulled the lever and passed through the circular doorway.

  Gray-green coils wrapped around her throat and yanked her into the next room. Choking, Kivita tried to stand, but the appendages dragged her to her knees. Despite her helmet and air supply, Kivita couldn’t breathe as she pried at the coils around her neck.

  A brown eye and a purple eye gazed into hers. A green-tinted face smiled.

  “Finally, after searching this wreck, you come to me,” Shekelor said. Behind him, six pirates aimed pistols and beam rifles at Kivita’s friends. “I don’t require the rest of you, though.” He nodded to his followers.

  As they raised their weapons, Kivita forced raw data into their thoughts. Shekelor flinched and drew back, while his pirates stumbled into one another.

  Navon leapt from the corridor and rammed his knee into one pirate’s chest. The man wheezed and fell back into his comrades. Kivita tugged at the coils, still unable to breathe. She met Shekelor’s eyes and let the asshole see how the Sarrhdtuu had harangued humanity and all its relatives for millennia: the Narbas family, the Ascali, and the Aldaakians.

  Shekelor staggered back, and his coils released her throat.

  Gasping, Kivita slumped onto the bulkhead. Her throat refused to cooperate, but her lungs pumped with demand. She massaged her esophagus while the other Thedes charged the pirates. Cheseia snapped one man’s neck, then shoved two others to the floor as they fired their pistols.

  The shots cracked the viewport on the right. A whistling noise screeched in their ears.

  Shekelor whipped Navon across the face with his coils, then skewered one Thede with his sword. Cheseia snatched a kinetic pistol and fired right into a pirate’s chest. Navon punched Shekelor’s jaw, but the warlord battered him to the floor.

  “Run, Kivita!” Navon cried, before Shekelor hauled him into the adjacent chamber.

  Kivita leaned into Cheseia as the Ascali ushered her into the next corridor. The pirates, who were not wearing envirosuits, turned and fled after Shekelor. The whistling noise behind them exploded into a defeaning boom. A klaxon integrity alarm rang in the corridor.

  Gunfire and shouts echoed ahead.

  “Kivita!” Basheev cried from the corridor behind them. Rhii charged through with her son just as the corridor decompressed. The circular door sank in with a screech.

  Kivita coughed as her breathing regulated. “I’m here! C’mon!” Together, she and Cheseia hurried into a cryo chamber. Two lamps faded in and out, losing power. Cryonic exhaust drifted into the air from a busted conduit.

  Though Rhii and her son gathered behind Kivita and Cheseia, none of the others had made it. Kivita swallowed a hard lump in her throat. What good were these damn abilities if everyone kept dying around her?

  “Navon?” Kivita called, her voice cracking from Shekelor’s grip.

  Her faceplate defrosted as a green beam sliced through the forward bulkhead. The opposite door burst open and four Inheritor soldiers ran through, aiming pistols at Kivita.

  “The redhead is the Savant we’re looking for! Cover me!”

  The beam fired again, burning a hole through the soldier’s chest.

  Turning, the Inheritors fired back through the doorway. A body in black polyarmor fell, while
a second one waded in among the soldiers with a sword. Blood and screams filled the entrance. Another shot fired. Then the human soldiers lay dead.

  Two Aldaakian Shock Troopers entered the chamber, their magnetized boots clanking on the floor. One raised a beam rifle, but the one with the sword held up a hand and pointed at Kivita.

  Through the Trooper’s faceplate, Seul Jaah stared at Kivita, her white-within-azure eyes wide.

  “Kivita! You must come with me. I have searched and lost so many. . . . My orders are to rescue you. Please hurry!” Seul’s firm tone belied the relief playing across her face.

  Luccan’s Wish rocked back and forth. Gravity disappeared for an instant, then returned. The lamps dimmed; the integrity alarm died. Three more Shock Troopers entered the chamber, their polyarmor battered. With their magnetized boots, neither she nor the Aldaakians had lost their footing.

  Kivita’s heart raced. “Can you save the others? How bad is the damage? Who fired on us?”

  Shekelor and his pirates popped from behind the cryopods on their left and fired. Two Troopers crumpled to the floor, shot through their faceplates. Seul’s remaining comrades returned fire, reducing the walls to orange-yellow slag.

  Smiling, Shekelor morphed through the wall itself. Kivita gaped and staggered back, but Shekelor reappeared from the other side of the wall and shot down another Trooper.

  Seul ducked down and beckoned. “Kivita, don’t delay!”

  As Kivita gripped Cheseia’s hand and ran, Inheritor soldiers charged into the chamber, and Shekelor’s pirates surged forward. Another Trooper collapsed, shot three times in the chest. Polyarmor shards enfiladed Kivita as she reached for Rhii and Basheev. Cheseia shielded all three of them, the shrapnel ripping her envirosuit in several places.

  “Kivita! I—” Seul’s words ended as Shekelor slashed her cuirass with his sword. She clanked to the floor, limp.

  “You filth!” Kivita yelled at Shekelor.

  The surviving Aldaakians fell to numerous kinetic bullets. Holes smoked in black polyarmor; gauntleted hands trembled on rifle triggers and fell still.