Triton: The Descendants War Book 1

by John Walker

  Kyle nodded. He weighed impatience with practicality, a desire to see the thing with a need to be cautious. We’ve come this far. What’s another few days? But other thoughts bothered him. What if exposing this shield has some sort of unknown effect? What if it all turns off if we don’t hurry?

  That felt like justification for something risky and dangerous. But he couldn’t get it out of his head. He turned to Lysa. “Give me your no bullshit assessment. Are you confident you can do what you say? That you can open this up without damaging whatever’s inside? Dead serious now.”

  “Yes, I’m certain.” Lysa checked her calculations. “Honestly, these readings are incredible. That shield… I’m more concerned about how we’ll get in once we’ve opened the area up. I don’t think military grade weaponry stands a chance at reducing the thing. But that’s a problem to focus on later.”

  “Let’s get some recorded evidence first,” Kyle said. “Video… stills… I want to document as much as we can before we go any further.”

  “Good plan.”

  The two of them put away their tools before returning with their tablets. Kyle allowed Lysa to stand in front of the camera near the hole she discovered. Once he started recording, she explained the find in the same detail they just explained, going so far as to throw a rock against the shield.

  The stone bounced off, making the barrier flare momentarily.

  “As you can see, that is not a natural structure,” Lysa explained. “As there is no evidence of humans inhabiting this world, we have truly discovered something new. Our next objective is to clear away the rocks I’m gesturing to so we can get a better look at what’s inside. That will be our next recording.”

  “Great.” Kyle lowered the device. “We’ve got to collect all this gear… take it to the camp.” He surveyed the area. The quarry had quite a bit of space some hundred yards off. “You think we can land right over there when you’re done? Make it easier to bring things back and forth as we need them.”

  “If we’re not digging,” Lysa replied, “then sure. I can put it down over there. I wouldn’t trust you to do it though.” She winked.

  “I nicked a couple trees one time.” Kyle shook his head. “You ever going to let me live that down?”

  “No, I don’t think so. It’s funny.”

  “At least one of us believes that.” Kyle collected up their gear, stuffing it into bags. He shouldered two of them, waiting for her to finish. “Okay… so begins the long ass walk. I’m starving. Maybe this was fortuitous.”

  “To ensure we get some serious cardio.” Lysa drew a deep breath before starting up the incline. “Hey, I know we’re both playing it really cool right now but… I wanted to say something. I’m sorry about earlier.”

  “Huh? What for?”

  “You know. Getting negative. Losing some faith. That’s not like me. I guess I just… felt grumpy after waking up? I don’t know. Regardless, I should’ve known better.”

  “Maybe your opinion helped us with the find,” Kyle pointed out. “Hear me out. A little disbelief can often be met with something to nudge you forward. A clue or bread crumb to keep you going.”

  “You ever need that?”

  “Nah.” Kyle chuckled. “I’ve been a believer since I was a kid. I don’t know what could shake my faith. Maybe some kind of absolute proof that we’re the only sentient beings in the universe… and that no others came before us. But I mean, what’re the chances of that happening?”

  “None now,” Lysa said. “I’m telling you, our technology could not have built that. Unless someone’s hiding a massive secret. But our scans showed no signs of a visit. No one’s been here. At least not in a long, long time.”

  “Then I guess we’re about to be famous.” Kyle sighed. “I can’t believe it. After all the time we’ve spent together, all the places we’ve visited… we finally did it.”

  “I’m trying to be cautiously optimistic but I’m with you. This is crazy amazing.”

  “Okay, enough awe. We’ll run out before the main attraction.”

  When we get in there and see what’s hidden away, we’ll have to remain calm. Objective science… that’s what we need right now. Even if the little kid in me wants to start screaming and running in circles. That might still happen, but Kyle figured he could keep things under his hat for another few hours. But only just.

  Chapter 6

  General Renz Divol despised a summons, even from his father. It made him feel like a common servant, a rank-and-file soldier. Years of service to the Kahl Empire made him feel as if he deserved more. He sought to create his own legacy while waiting for his chance to take the mantel of leadership, to govern their culture.

  But his patience wore thin. Some of his personal advisors, the closest people to him, pressed for action. One suggested they might assassinate the Lord Marshal thus allowing Renz to ascend to the position he so desperately craved in that way. The thought tempted him, but deep down, he worried about failure.

  If it got back to him, his life may be forfeit. His father did not have any other heirs. His mother had died ages ago. Chances of another rising to take his place were slim. Without strong leadership, the Kahl Empire may not continue, at least not in the powerful position it cut out for itself. I must take control or we’ll lose everything we worked so hard for.

  Renz found his father sitting in his office, staring out the window over the city. They were in the capital, standing in the military headquarters towering above the tallest building. The Lord Marshal installed himself in a place he could look down upon the populace from any angle, any window. With the whole top floor, he had a three hundred sixty degree view.

  The old man sat with his back to the door. He’d grown tired lately, spending considerable time in silent contemplation. Despite his age, his black hair remained lustrous without a hint of gray. Father and son shared many features from their nearly black eyes to their pale skin and six-three height. Both were imposing individuals but one was withered.

  Few pieces of furniture took up the space. The large desk near the biggest window provided his father with plenty of room to work though the surface appeared clear other than a tablet. A couple trophy cases lined the walls without windows, holding different triumphs from the Lord Marshal’s past.

  A portrait of Renz’s mother occupied the wall near the elevator directly opposite the desk. She’d been dead since he was a child, long enough that he barely remembered her. A wet bar sat off to the left along with a refrigerator for beverages. The Lord Marshal didn’t have to leave the room to remain comfortable. He even had a private washroom.

  When the Lord Marshal didn’t immediately speak, Renz sighed in frustration.

  “You wished to see me?”

  His voice drew his father’s attention. The chair turned slowly. “You’re here. Good. We have a few things to discuss.”

  “I imagine you didn’t call me here to watch you nap.”

  The Lord Marshal smirked. “Rude. You should learn to govern your irritation and your passions better. If you ever want to sit in this chair or hold this office, you have a great deal to learn. The most important lesson is to know when you should pop off. You seem to be under the impression you’re entitled to more than you are.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” Renz muttered. Of course, he meant it to be insulting though he didn’t expect a lecture as a result. “What is this about? Am I here for a lesson?”

  “Of sorts. But also an assignment. One that will hopefully change you for the better.” The Lord Marshal stood, wincing as he straightened his back. He walked around the desk, staring into his son’s eyes. “But first, we should cover something. I’ve heard the mutterings from your advisors. I know they’ve suggested you have me killed.”

  Renz’s expression betrayed him. He inhaled sharply, eyes widening. Still, he didn’t say anything. He knew better than to make an excuse over such an allegation. Chances were good his father had a spy in his midst. And if that proved to be the ca
se, he couldn’t speak out against it. Not without finding out who spoke out against him.

  “I’m glad you’re not denying it.” The Lord Marshal sighed. “If you had been party to it, if you entertained them, we might not be having this conversation. I don’t believe a person can rule if they are willing to commit patricide. Given the fact I’m still alive and mostly well, you’ll have to earn your place rather than take it. Do you understand?”

  “I would never agree to such a plan anyway,” Renz said. “I want to do this the right way.”

  “Are you telling me if I was killed tomorrow, you’d allow for some sort of general election?”

  “No, I’m not. This is a dynastic position—”

  “I’ve never stated it was so,” the Lord Marshal interrupted. “I took this from our former leaders a long time ago, boy. Longer than you can imagine.” He rubbed his eyes. “We have many problems to contend with before I can step down so we need to put this foolishness behind us. You cannot attack me. You cannot entertain it from others. Is that clear?”

  Renz figured that meant anyone who suggested it should be punished. He had no problem with that. The people who spoke about such things did so far too openly. They were idiots who deserved whatever they got. When he finished that meeting, he’d have at least two of them executed. That would send a message.

  I can still act on it later. Perhaps this will buy me the faith I need to get close enough.

  “Yes, it’s perfectly clear. I’m yours to command.”

  “Good.” The Lord Marshal stared at him for several long moments before continuing. “As you may or may not know, we are the verge of achieving the Vision. Total dominance of the universe. All the other cultures crushed. It will be a monumental thing… something to be proud of. To exalt our existence the way our ancestors never could.”

  Renz nodded. “I look forward to playing my part.”

  “Now’s the time for you to do so.” The Lord Marshal approached the window, gesturing at the city. “Out there, the capital teems with dissidents. People who wish to see the ending of my rein. They’re weary of the constant fighting, of our resources going toward conflict. Some of them gather to hear the words of a prophet.”

  “What?” Renz frowned. “What prophet? I’ve heard of no such person.”

  “I assure you, he exists, and he has made waves. Sparked a form of hope in the people I struggle to keep suppressed. No matter the amount of force I impose nor those who disappear, the Prophet continues to bolster them. He fans the flames of their defiance, and I… am having a hard time competing.”

  “Have this man killed,” Renz said. “As an example.”

  “You do not understand fanaticism… nor how such men work. They slip in and out of crowds. Capturing them is not so simple. And killing them… well, in some cases their deaths are an objective. They challenge us to a game where we must scour our world for them and if we win, we lose.”

  “I do not understand.”

  “The concept of martyrdom is universal. When a figurehead dies, the people who follow them tend to be spurred on to acts of greatness… for their cause, at least. Therefore, he cannot die. He must be discredited. Shown to speak falsehoods. His followers must turn on him in order for us to achieve a true victory.”

  “And how do we do that?”

  “Until this morning, I did not know.” The Lord Marshal smiled. “But now… I do.” He stepped over one of the trophy cases against the wall. “Long ago, before you were born I was a young man in search of a destiny. Much like others of my age, I sought it in the darkest places of our world.”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” Renz said. He joined his father, peering down at an old book. He’d seen it dozens of times but had no idea what it was. “I thought you were a soldier.”

  “I was, but when my time served ended, I wanted more.” The Lord Marshal waved his hand around the room. “I needed this to become a reality. To that end, I heard rumors of old documents… a way of life for the Kahl people before our hardships. As we continued to struggle, we needed hope. A purpose. And something to claim victory over.”

  “So you found that in a book?” Renz frowned. “I’m skeptical.”

  “What is our way of life?”

  “We conquer,” Renz said. “We take. We are the rightful inhabitants of the universe. All others are parasites.”

  The Lord Marshal nodded. “Indeed. Near to the exact words of our vow before joining the military. But where do you think such notions came from? Why do they exist?”

  “Because… they are… true. They come from our ancestors.” Renz didn’t honestly know. He hadn’t paid as much attention to history in school. He wanted tactics, combat, excitement. These were the things that drove him on as a young man. His father had always been far more scholarly. And it showed.

  “Ancestors write things down.” The Lord Marshal put his hand on the glass over the book. “Those things teach us intentions. They teach us philosophies to live by. We gain an understanding of everything that matters. And in some cases, they contradict facts required to survive and thrive.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Perhaps you don’t have to.” The Lord Marshal stepped away from the case. “In fact, I think it’s better this way. Are you ready for your assignment?”

  Renz stood up straight. “I won’t fail you.”

  “See that you don’t. Our ancestors once held colonies all across the galaxy… on planets distant from our own. Much like now. However, we have yet to reclaim all our former territories. Many of which were abandoned.”

  “Leaving behind relics of our past?” Renz asked. “Are you asking me to find trinkets?”

  “The most valuable kind in existence,” The Lord Marshal said, “the ones which can undermine our authority and give the Prophet the strength he needs to forge a true rebellion. The kind we cannot survive.”

  “Please.” Renz rolled his eyes. “We can suppress any uprising of the common people.”

  “How many of those individuals used to be part of the military?” the Lord Marshal asked. “Do you know they may have grown tired of sacrificing their children for the wars? That they have a driving need for them to end? An old warrior becomes disillusioned with the stories used to drive him to battle. We cannot allow that to happen.”

  “So what am I doing? Just… flying out to these worlds to collect them?”

  “Indeed.” The Lord Marshal nodded. “Return them to me. Bring back these relics so I might save your inheritance.”

  “Really? I thought you said this was not dynastic.”

  “You didn’t listen to my words. I won’t repeat them. However, once you’ve succeeded, we’ll discuss how you may step into this role. I will do everything in my power to prepare you. But first, you have a job to do.” The Lord Marshal returned to his desk, snatching up his tablet. He typed something on it. “I’m sending you the coordinates of your first world.”

  “How do you know about it?”

  “When I found the records I needed to ascend to this position, I located ancient technology with it. It was dark then… I took it as a symbol, something I might use to rally the others around me. Today, it turned on. A beacon or warning device, I didn’t know what. Upon reflection and study, I found that one of our sites has been activated.”

  “What’s that even mean?”

  “That someone either has breached or will soon get into a data warehouse. You must get there. Stop them from finding whatever is there and bring it back to me.” The Lord Marshal smiled. “It should be an easy task for you. I know they are not our people out there. Which means you’ll be contending with one of our enemies.”

  “And I may crush them?” Renz asked.

  “They are stealing from us,” The Lord Marshal said. “So of course.”

  “Your command will be done.” Renz bowed his head. “I must depart immediately then if I’m to catch them before they succeed. Have you sent me the coordinates?”

  “I have.
Be cautious, my son. You don’t know who these people are. They may be resourceful. Dangerous even. We are mighty but not invulnerable… despite what we allow our enemies to believe. Do you understand?”

  “Of course.” Renz waved his hand at him. “I’ll have this done soon, father. And when I return, I expect you to fulfill your side of the bargain.”

  The Lord Marshal sighed. “And we were doing so well. You’d be advised to find more civility before you come back. I’m not going to take your barbs much longer. I’ll have another successor. Do you understand?”

  Renz fumed but he nodded once. “Perfectly.”

  “Very well. Make haste.” The Lord Marshal gestured at the door. “You will want to travel swiftly. Only one ship, I think. Your primary vessel. That should be more than enough to accomplish your goal. Don’t you agree?”

  Renz commanded a fleet. The fact he couldn’t bring them all was another insult. He didn’t feel up to arguing, not with the last threat hanging in the air. “Of course, sir.”

  “Good. Then be gone and good luck. I’ll wait for your word.”

  “Of course.” Renz slapped his fist against his chest before spinning on his heels, heading for the elevator. He looked at the coordinates, frowning at the location. He vaguely know of the sector but it was distant… somewhere they didn’t have any presence at all. Our reach was much longer. It will be the same again soon.

  He contacted his ship, letting them know to be prepared for departure. He fully intended to get there within the next several hours. We’ll kill whoever dares desecrate our tombs and then, father… we shall have a talk about civility. And how quickly you can leave that chair for good.

  ***

  Lord Marshal Severan Divol watched his son depart, heaving a sigh. Revealing his knowledge of the assassination chatter was a calculated risk; one that put his spy in grave danger. Renz might try to find them. It all depended on how seriously he took his mission and whether or not he had it in him to put aside his vanity.