by E. R. Torre
They think you’re dead. Keep it that way and get out of here.
But where could she go?
Inquisitor Cer was a part of Overlord Octo’s guard and, as he correctly stated, complicit in his sins. Even if she had no knowledge of them until now and she made it to another world in the Phaecian Empire, any evidence she brought against the church would be labeled a lie… or worse.
You have to go very far away and bide your time. Even if it’s a lifetime’s worth, you cannot come back until you’re ready to take on the Council. In the meantime…
Inquisitor Cer returned to the information from the microchip.
She noticed the flashing file, the one that Sgt. Delmont wanted her to read first.
Why is this so important?
Inquisitor Cer opened the file.
For a second time she read about the sex slave and watched the vids. Curiosity got the better of her. She traced the paths of the many vessels that carried their profane cargo from the Epsillon Empire to Phaecia. Their paths were, for the most part, seemingly random. However, as she moved back in time, to the origins of the sex slave, she found a commonality, a planet where every one of these early ships passed at one point or another.
A planet deep within the Epsillon Empire.
That’s where she would go.
Provided she made it out of the Longshore Space Lanes alive.
24
The journey to Pomos was a circuitous one.
Latitia jumped from Displacer to Displacer, traveling further and further from one end of the Epsillon Empire to the other. Despite fighting off waves of nausea, B’taav realized her multiple Displacer jumps were designed to spot anyone following her while keeping their destination as much of a mystery as possible.
“The medicine is working,” B’taav said after a while.
The Independent leaned closer to the computer console and requested information about their destination.
B’taav knew at one time Pomos was the hub of scientific research for the entire Epsillon Empire and that the once beloved Saint Vulcan made her headquarters there. He had access to mountains of information on the planet’s history but skipped it. His focus was on her destruction.
To this day, the details of Pomos’ outbreak were shrouded in mystery. Though no one was certain, it was theorized some kind of biological weapon escaped one of Saint Vulcan’s laboratories and infected the population. The infected displayed aggressive tendencies that grew with each passing minute. The end result was the stuff of nightmares.
Cities fell and millions perished. Saint Vulcan quarantined her planet, calling in her fleet of ships and tricking the Captains of the vessels into thinking they were there to evacuate personnel and offer comfort and aid. Instead, Saint Vulcan took control of the ships and used their weapons to torch her planet and wipe out every citizen, including herself.
Outrage over her actions was immediate. Though there were those who recognized the cold logic of destroying the planet to save the Empire, Saint Vulcan was nonetheless reviled. To this day, she was considered a monster.
Latitia looked over B’taav’s shoulder.
“The first missile fired on Pomos was a two hundred kilo-ton Proto-fusion bomb,” she said. “It detonated on the planet’s southern hemisphere instantly killing fifty million citizens. Whoever survived the first round of blasts most certainly didn’t survive the next sixty.”
B’taav clicked a button and the monitor displayed Solyanna, Pomos’ moon. Its northern hemisphere was cracked. Splinters as large as cities broke off her surface and floated in orbit around her.
“Saint Vulcan had a base there, too,” Latitia said. “As you can see, she fired upon it as well. To this day, over two hundred years later, debris from the moon still rains on Pomos.”
“Nothing was left.”
“The Epsillon Empire’s business consortium begged to differ,” Latitia said. “Even as they vilified Saint Vulcan and declared the planet a lost cause they funded a wave of automated drones to check the planet’s surface.”
“Why?”
“To get their hands on any research that might have survived.”
“Did they find anything?”
Latitia shook her head.
“After a couple dozen years, there were only a handful of companies still sniffing around. Those that were left pulled out when the Epsillon and Phaecian Empires went to war. Pomos, for all intents and purposes, was forgotten. Today more people remember Saint Vulcan, the woman who sold out her world, than Pomos, the world she sold out.”
“Why exactly are we going there?” B’taav asked.
Latitia pressed a button before her and the image on B’taav’s monitor changed. A Pomos sensor scan appeared.
“That’s from last year,” Latitia said. “See the energy blip on the northern quadrant, 24 by 43?”
B’taav clicked on the image, blowing it up until he had a clearer view. The energy blip was small, indicative of nothing more than a small vessel.
“Could be a ghost trace,” B’taav said. “Some old equipment?”
Latitia pressed another button. A different sensor scan appeared.
“This is from one month later.”
The energy blip was present. It was slightly larger.
“Someone’s down there?”
“Yeah,” Latitia said. “For the first couple of months the energy blips were inconsistent, appearing for a few hours or days before disappearing for about the same amount of time. Then things changed. This image is from three months ago.”
Latitia pressed a third button. Revealed in almost the same spot as before was another energy blip. This one was much larger.
“It’s grown.”
“Quite a bit,” Latitia said. “By our calculations, it’s ten times its original size.”
“What could anyone want down there?”
”Maybe something was left behind after all,” Latitia said. She smiled. “The past is never entirely gone. You, more than anyone else, should know.”
B’taav was silent. Was Latitia referring to the Argus? If so, how could she know?
“Does this have something to do with Merrick?”
“It’s possible.”
“Why involve me?”
Latitia didn’t reply. B’taav shook his head.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“Plenty.”
“Do you have some idea of what we’re going to find?”
“No.”
“Why just us? Shouldn’t we go with a larger force?”
“Who says there isn’t one?”
B’taav sat back. He stared at the Pomos energy blip. He stared hard.
“How about it, B’taav?” Latitia asked. “You up for solving a mystery?”
25
The Xendos limped along as Inquisitor Cer paced the cockpit.
In the previous hours, the ship’s performance improved considerably. The engines now provided a fifth of the ship’s original capacity. Given the rate of repair, in another day or two the Xendos might actually reach near peak performance level.
And I still have no idea how this is happening.
Inquisitor Cer longed to leave the cockpit and examine the engine room but the corridors and rooms beyond this one remained uninhabitable. Even so, conditions kept improving. Atmospheric levels, which were nonexistent before, were registering, though the amount of breathable air remained far too low for human survival. Life support systems were also coming back online. If enough of them became operational, Inquisitor Cer could set livable temperatures throughout the rest of the ship.
Still, Inquisitor Cer kept the cockpit’s temperature a chilly forty degrees Fahrenheit and heated her body through her space suit. With the rescue fleet somewhere nearby searching for her, she dare not elevate internal temperatures too much and provide them something their sensors could detect.
Inquisitor Cer skirted the ship along the edges of the Norman Asteroid Field and just outside the Longshore Shipp
ing Lanes. She used the Xendos’ cameras to monitor for movement.
It was normal for hundreds of merchant ships to pass through the Longshore Lanes at any given time yet at this moment it was devoid of all traffic. Inquisitor Cer was tempted to activate the Xendos’ sensor array to see if any ships were hiding in her proximity but, like sending out a radio signal, doing so would give away her position.
With no ships in sight, Cer spent more and more time on the communication system checking for transmissions. Now and again, she heard stray chatter from distant frigates.
One of the last such transmissions involved a frigate commander’s anger at being re-routed from the Longshore Lanes.
“They’re closing it all down,” the Commander complained.
After speaking those words, his transmissions went silent. Less than an hour later the remaining news feeds were gone. An eerie silence filled the airwaves.
Inquisitor Cer had never witnessed such a complete wall of silence erected in one location.
She parked the Xendos behind a large asteroid and concentrated on the magnified real time visuals streaming on her monitors. She searched the darkness for signs of any movement. She examined every flash of light and honed in on any blur in an attempt to locate the ships searching for her.
“There you are,” she said after a while.
She spotted three distant lights and zoomed her cameras on them.
Several ships, twenty in total, broke off and spread out. They were approaching fast.
Inquisitor Cer locked the Xendos’ aft cameras on them. She moved to another monitor and activated the side and forward cameras. She detected more lights.
There were at least three more sets of battleships coming from opposite directions. One, the largest of the group, was closest to her. She recognized her lines.
It was the Cygnusa.
“By all that’s Holy,” she muttered.
She knew the commander of that vessel only too well.
“Of course they would send you to get me, Inquisitor Raven.”
A group of twenty officers manned their stations on the bridge of the Cygnusa.
They sorted data and watched for any sign of their prey. In the center of the bridge stood a very tall, wiry man. His gray hair reached his shoulders and a black cloak covered much of his body. The few crewmembers walking about actively avoided coming too near him.
“Inquisitor Raven,” one of the officers said.
“Yes, Lieutenant Sanders?”
“Fighter craft Group Theta ready for launch.”
“Tell them to go.”
On the central view screen a squad of fighter craft emerged from the port side of the Cygnusa and spread out in all directions.
The Cygnusa and her complement of fighter craft swept this section of the Longshore Shipping Lanes and approached the lee side of the Norman Asteroid field. They neared a cluster of rocks.
“Captain Antoni, examine the cluster before you,” Raven said.
The view screen split into parts, each showing camera feeds from individual members of his squad.
“Give them light,” Inquisitor Raven ordered.
Lights flared from the Cygnusa’s side and illuminated the rocky mass.
“Plenty of places to hide,” Inquisitor Raven said.
Minutes passed as the fighter craft searched.
“There’s too much area to cover,” Inquisitor Raven said after a while. “Send a signal. They are to clear the area in exactly five minutes.”
“Yes sir,” the Comm officer said.
The fighter craft withdrew. Another light blinked on and off the side of the Cygnusa. It was blood red and warned of danger.
“Charge the fusion cannons,” Inquisitor Raven said. “Aim at the cluster.”
The last of the fighter craft left the area. More seconds passed. The five minutes were up.
“Fire,” Inquisitor Raven said.
A concentrated energy beam roared from the battleship’s fusion canons and blasted the clump of asteroids. The ancient rocks were ripped apart.
“Captain Antoni, give it another look,” Inquisitor Raven said.
The fighter craft flew back into the remains of the asteroids. Detecting nothing, they withdrew. The Cygnusa followed. Flickers of light sizzled along her lee side. Her cannons were recharged and ready.
The ghost of a smile appeared on Inquisitor Raven’s face.
“Target the next cluster of asteroids,” he said.
He knew it was only a matter of time before the Xendos was found.
With each passing hour, Inquisitor Cer’s desperation grew.
The communication system remained dead silent. The ships searching for the Xendos were coordinated their search by using low level radio waves. There was no way for Inquisitor Cer to anticipate their movements.
She drew deeper into the Norman Asteroid field while keeping a close eye on the Cygnusa. The ship continued firing on the larger asteroid clumps, working her way closer and closer to the Xendos.
Inquisitor Cer hoped for the opportunity to slip past the patrols and make it to the Genna Displacer at the end of the Longshore Shipping Lanes.
Though the Displacer would surely be well guarded, there had to be heavy merchant traffic around it, certainly enough for the Xendos to lose herself in.
But the fleet around her were taking their time and systematically flushing out every possible hiding place. The Cygnusa fusion cannons came to life and destroyed yet another cluster of asteroids.
Inquisitor Cer swore.
She was boxed in. It would take less than a day for the Cygnusa and her group of ships to reach her position.
Inquisitor Cer considered alternatives.
How about talking to them directly?
Inquisitor Cer loathed the idea. Her brief history with Inquisitor Raven when she was in the Royal Academy was still a very raw wound.
In spite of this, perhaps she could reason with him and convince him the deaths of Overlord Octo and his two guards were not her doing. She could present Raven the information given to her on the Dakota.
If you’re an honorable man, you will take this information and join me. Together and with the power of this fleet, we can overthrow those who disgraced the Holy Word and restore honor to the Empire.
Inquisitor Cer shook her head.
As much as she despised him, Inquisitor Raven was as straight as they came. He, like the Captains and Commanders of the other ships searching for her, were brought in to clean up this mess because they followed their orders. Implicitly.
Inquisitor Cer pulled the Xendos closer to a small asteroid. It floated away from all other clusters, a pebble in the darkness.
It wouldn’t be long before they were in her area. It wouldn’t be long at all.
26
Sweat poured down B’taav’s forehead. His teeth chattered. Latitia gave him another injection.
“I’ve…I’ve never felt like this before,” B’taav said.
Latitia returned to the ship’s controls.
“I’m no good to you like this,” B’taav said. “Take me to a Doctor. I have contacts…”
“I’ve done everything a doctor could to help you,” Latitia said.
“What do I have?”
“Rest,” Latitia replied.
B’taav didn’t argue. He didn’t have the strength to.
For the next hour, he made himself as comfortable as he could. Latitia looked in on him now and again, offering warm drinks and protein pellets while focusing on their flight. The shuttle leaped from Displacer to Displacer, at least five during that hour, all in locations B’taav knew little about. Traffic along these Displacer lines was at times heavy and Latitia used that to full advantage, hiding their vessel between merchant haulers and on a couple of occasions, even piggybacking with cargo caravans.
She grew more and more confident there were no tails.
Latitia hid the shuttle within the mile wide folds of a merchant trawler’s starboard side and se
t the controls to automatic pilot. She got out of her chair, stretched, and approached B’taav. His eyes were closed and he appeared to be sleeping. Latitia reached up to touch the Independent’s forehead. B’taav’s hand shot up. He grabbed her wrist.
“That’s not the way you acted with the last person who touched you,” Latitia said.
It took B’taav a moment to realize what she was talking about.
“How long have you been watching me?”
“Quite a while,” Latitia said. She pulled her hand away.
“How long?”
Latitia smiled. As with most of B’taav’s questions, it was clear she wasn’t willing to give him answers. She eyed the medi-scanner’s readings.
B’taav sighed.
“How are you getting us to Pomos undetected? If we use their Displacer, whoever is on the planet will know of our arrival and be ready for us. All this running around will be for nothing.”
“We’re not using Pomos’ main Displacer,” Latitia said.
“You’re not planning to take the long flight, are you? The closest Displacer to Pomos is on Signat III. It’ll take six months to get to Pomos by impulse.”
“Seven, actually.”
“We won’t be able to take each other’s company for that long.”
“There is another way,” Latitia said. “Pomos has a second Displacer.”
“What?”
“It’s a Type 2,” Latitia said. “Old school stuff. It was sent there at the dawn of Empire and helped settle the planet. After Pomos became an economic powerhouse, Saint Vulcan had enough funds available to replace it with a Type 6 Displacer. The Type 2 was retired.”
“It’s still in operation?” B’taav asked. “Those older units were usually scrapped.”
“The people of Pomos abandoned her. Her last reported location was around Solyanna.”
“The moon was destroyed. Wouldn’t the Displacer—”