The Xaros Reckoning (The Ember War Saga Book 9)

by Richard Fox

  The old man folded his hands into his wide sleeves.

  “We retreated to buy time, figure out a new strategy. Let the Xaros overwhelm more than half the galaxy while we gathered races at Bastion through our probes. Tried to foster goodwill and cooperation between such different species. Eventually, we came up with the gambit to capture an incomplete Crucible.”

  “At the cost of almost ten billion people,” Ibarra said.

  “But our probe, all our technology couldn’t complete the device or break into the Xaros network,” the old man said.

  “So you sent us to break Malal out of jail,” Valdar said. “His sister knew he could solve your problem.”

  “And Malal wanted a family reunion in return,” Hale said.

  “The choice was difficult,” the Qa’Resh said.

  “Why are you telling us this?” Stacey asked. “You think you can justify what you did to Earth? What we’ve done to others?”

  “We failed,” the Qa’Resh said. “We failed to unite the galaxy through mutual understanding and selfless service. The victory over the Xaros came through guile, sacrifice, coercion. She would ask…given what you’ve been through…not to lose hope in each other.”

  “You think because the Xaros are gone the races that are left will tear each other apart, don’t you?” Ibarra shook his head. “Of course we’ll go to war with each other. The Toth. The Vishrakath. They were in this for themselves and now everything is chaos. The center cannot hold. Anarchy is loosed upon the galaxy.”

  “But you have conviction,” the Qa’Resh said to Valdar. “Humanity showed the galaxy that there can be cooperation. Coexistence.”

  “And look what that got us,” Ibarra said. “It set the Vishrakath against us and put alien ships in our skies. Our cities would have been nuked if a thief and a pair of miscreant knuckle-draggers hadn’t got themselves captured by the Ruhaald.”

  “The only reason this worked,” Stacey said, “is because the Qa’Resh, sent by Malal’s sister, had compassion. She could have gone off with the rest of her kind, and there would have been nothing to stop the Xaros.”

  “We ask you to remember this.” The Qa’Resh raised an arm and the surrounding darkness parted like a curtain.

  They were in a vast amphitheater. Bronze tiles with gently shifting fractals stretched to a dome wall that changed tone like a fast-moving cloudy sky. A still, white circle large enough to fit a Mule was centered on a semicircular wall that extended ten stories high. A simple platform with two waist-high plinths floated just above the ground. Malal stood on the platform, his hands just over the plinths.

  The crystalline Qa’Resh filled the air, all touching each other with their tendrils.

  A Qa’Resh in the guise of a woman with long, braided hair stepped from behind the old man.

  “We are ready to begin,” she said.

  “Wait. I need the crystal to destroy the drones.” Stacey made for Malal and was stopped by a look from the woman.

  Malal slammed his hands down. Raw power flowed out of his body and down the plinths. The white disc faded and Hale saw the edge of the black hole just beyond the amphitheater.

  “The soul forge opens the gateway to different dimensions,” the old man said, “places where the laws of physics are different. Where time does not exist. Where thought is the ultimate power. Where death is impossible.”

  “This is what the Xaros were after,” Stacey said. “This is why they wanted Malal so badly.”

  “The Xaros had no concept of an afterlife. For them, death was the ultimate end. They found it particularly terrifying,” the old man said.

  “Our people were not so different,” the woman said.

  “Hold on,” Hale said, “are you…”

  She put a finger to her lips.

  The disc filled with a maelstrom of color that hurt Hale’s eyes. The storm faded away, replaced with towers of ivory and gold floating in gossamer clouds. An alien with leathery skin, an almost equine head and bulbous eyes appeared in the doorway. It wore a robe identical to the old man and the woman’s garb. The alien faded in and out.

  Malal ripped his hands away. He twisted around and pointed a finger tipped with a Toth claw at Stacey.

  “Release me. Now.”

  Stacey’s eyes went to the woman, who gave her a slight nod. Stacey touched two fingers to her temple. Malal reached into his chest, plucked out the governor and flung it into the air like it was garbage.

  Steuben caught the device, which crumbled in his hands, and then held up a gem filled with green light. He gave it over to Stacey, who clutched it against her breast as if it were the most precious thing she’d ever held.

  “I would have burned your worlds.” Malal turned back to the portal and floated up, hands held at his side, one knee cocked higher than the other.

  “Just like that,” Hale said, “he wins.”

  Malal pressed against the portal and slowly sank through. The portal rippled as Malal passed through to his reward. A wicked laugh echoed through the amphitheater as Malal’s body shifted into his original alien form. He gestured at the other, then gold light dripped from his fingertips.

  “Not exactly,” the woman said.

  Malal swiped at the other…and hit nothing. The heavenly landscape faded away, replaced by a roiling dimension where black continents and deep-blue thunderstorms stretched to infinity against the inside of a cylinder. Malal backed against the portal, then whirled around and pounded against an invisible wall.

  “Some dimensions are desirable,” the woman said. “Others…less so.”

  A claw covered in boils and weeping pus grabbed Malal by the ankle. A branch-thin arm with a dozen joints jerked Malal away from the portal and dangled him in the air. A nightmare rose up, a mound of bruise-colored flesh covered in a hundred eyes, all different in size and shape. Mouths, more than Hale cared to look at, dotted the thing’s surface, all filled with a myriad of gnashing teeth.

  Another thin arm emerged from the flesh and ripped one of Malal’s hands off. It stuffed the morsel into a mouth then tore a chunk off his leg.

  Screams bled through the portal as more arms emerged and took bites from Malal’s body.

  Hale refused to take his eyes away as the creature devoured Malal bit by bit. The screams didn’t stop, even after there was nothing left of the ancient entity.

  “You tricked him,” Valdar said, his jaw slacked. “You had him open a door to hell.”

  “He designed the gate,” the woman said. “I’m the one that built it.”

  The world in the portal changed back to the ivory and gold heaven, and the ghostly figure returned.

  “I’m tired,” she said. “The war with the Xaros was long, and every battle was a defeat until we found humanity.” A golden mote of light formed within the nearest Qa’Resh. A line leapt into the next one, then the next. It took seconds for a lattice to link them together.

  “I’m taking them with me,” the woman said. “The probes will stay with you for a little longer.”

  The lattice collapsed into a single point. The Qa’Resh shattered into a billion fragments. Hale grabbed Stacey and tried to protect her with his body. When nothing pierced his body, he looked up and saw the crystal remnants still in the air. They broke again, losing half their size, then again and again until they vanished completely.

  The golden mote of light flew to the portal and stopped just outside.

  “You’re leaving?” Ibarra asked. “But what about…everything?”

  “I leave it to you,” the woman said. “The surviving races can build their own Crucibles, access the existing gates, but you have a head start. Someday, when you’re ready, you might find this place again. If you wish to join me, I’ll be waiting.”

  “We’re not even sure who you are,” Stacey said. “How do we open the portal without murdering billions?”

  “I am Qa’Resh,” she said. “I am sorry for what happened, Stacey Ibarra. Do not lose hope. Marc…you were our ally for so long,
thank you. Isaac Valdar, if humanity follows your lead, the galaxy will do well. Ken, wonders await you. Steuben…” She spoke Karigole then touched her index finger to each cheek.

  “You can’t just leave me like this. A ‘so sorry’ changes nothing!” Stacey reached for Qa’Resh, but her hand passed right through her.

  Qa’Resh faded away.

  “No!” Stacey ran for the floating dais—and found herself on the Breitenfeld’s flight deck. Skidding to a halt only feet from the edge, she reached out to the structure around the black hole as a wormhole formed in the distance.

  Stacey’s arm fell to her side with a metal-on-metal clink. Her shoulders slumped as she began to sob.

  Hale put an arm over her shoulder. Even though her cold body stung through the armor, he pulled her into a hug and held her close.

  Chapter 22

  Millions of Xaros drones flowed over Mercury toward the sun. They formed a stream a mile thick, undulating slightly through the solar wind. Over Mercury’s northern pole, the Breitenfeld held station, her guns locked on the passing drones. Fighter squadrons flew holding patterns nearby.

  On the bridge, Hale and Valdar watched the drones’ final migration on the holo tank.

  “This is the last of them?” Hale asked.

  “According to Ibarra,” Valdar said, tapping his finger against the side rail. “The probe’s been broadcasting the hack for weeks. If the Xaros sent more drones from the Crucible over on Barnard’s Star, the signal should affect them along the way. Any drones we encounter from now on are on a suicide mission. Supposedly.”

  “That’s why Admiral Garret hasn’t ordered a draw down.” Hale shrugged. “Can’t say I blame him, but we’ve seen more of the Xaros than anyone else had. Lots of the rank and file are getting antsy. Peace dividend and all that.”

  “The only people in the solar system that weren’t in uniform or directly contributing to the war effort are children, and there’s only a few thousand of them on Earth. We’re a militarized society. Transitioning will be difficult, if it even happens,” Valdar said. “How’re your Marines? Your sniper doing well?”

  “Bailey’s still in intensive care. New arm, shoulder, nerve grafts. She complains more about not being able to drink than anything else. Yarrow’s wedding is next week. Cortaro tells me most are worried about what comes next—not Standish though. He’s sent me five copies of his discharge paperwork, keeps going on about some business opportunity that’ll make him rich. You’ve got the in with Garret and Ibarra. Care to give me a hint what they’re planning?”

  Valdar tapped on a screen and brought up a map of the galaxy. Tiny points blossomed through three-quarters of the stars.

  “These are all the Xaros Crucibles,” the captain said. “Ibarra tells us we can get to every single one of them. All lead to either habitable worlds or places with remnants of civilizations that vanished before the Xaros ever arrived. Once the threat of these drones is gone, Garret will announce a massive colonization and exploration effort. We’re on the cusp of the greatest land grab in galactic history. Full-scale ship and proccie production for the foreseeable future.”

  “Stacey said the other Bastion races had the tech to make their own Crucibles. I’m sure they’d be interested in some of these places too.”

  “I pointed that out to Ibarra and he said, ‘Possession is nine-tenths of the law. Possession by rail cannon and boots on the ground is ten-tenths of the law.’ It will be years before the other races have their Crucibles built. We’ll be in a position of strength to negotiate when they come online.”

  “Think there will be a fight?” Hale asked.

  “Even with the proccies and Ibarra’s construction empire, we couldn’t colonize more than a few hundred worlds before anyone else enters the race. There’s room for everyone, but diplomacy will be needed again.”

  “The real prize will be the preserved worlds,” Hale said. “Qa’Resh technology. Who knows what else is out there.”

  “They’re the priority. We’ll need a unit dedicated to xeno-archaeology. Garret wants to know if you’re interested in leading it,” Valdar said.

  “Would I be behind a desk or exploring?”

  “You’re in charge.”

  Hale brushed his fingers over the gauss rifle on his back.

  “Not exactly swords into plowshares, but it sounds exciting. I’ll do it. Have to tie up a few loose ends first. What about you?”

  “The Breitenfeld loses her jump engines after this last batch of Xaros drones finishes their lemming quest. The probe tells us the Qa’Resh put a kill switch on all their technology once they left the galaxy. They cared enough to take away the chance of us accidentally—or intentionally—wiping out all of creation. Garret offered me my own fleet, a promotion. I’ll stay in the void, train the next batch of captains. Help build a fleet so strong no race will even think about attacking us.”

  “You worried that if Garret and Ibarra have a big enough hammer then every problem will start looking like a nail?”

  “Peace through strength. That’s what we’ll have. Peace. No one has an appetite for war. After the Xaros…I hope it’ll stay that way.”

  The tail end of the Xaros migration cleared Mercury. Hale looked out the bridge’s windows and saw the last of the drones wash away in the sun’s blinding light.

  “I hope you’re right, Uncle Isaac. I really do.”

  Chapter 23

  The massive Vorpral hung over the blue skies of Dotari, closer to the surface than the orbiting Crucible gate. Tall trees topped with fronds and nut clusters swayed as a shuttle passed overhead and set down in the middle of a stone square overlooking a crescent-shaped harbor, surrounded by a city laid out in an even grid.

  Dotok soldiers disembarked, their weapons ready. They rushed to the side of the square and took cover near cut stone pots overflowing with weeds and dead flowering plants.

  Pa’lon came down the shuttle ramp slowly, aided by a cane and a Dotok woman. He sniffed at the air and at the surrounding buildings. All showed some wear and tear from the elements but were otherwise intact. More Dotok civilians followed him down. They meandered around the shuttle, awestruck.

  Stacey—still in her simulacrum body—and Hale stepped off the ramp and kept their distance from the Dotok.

  Pa’lon fell to his knees and grasped dirt between his fingers.

  “They did it,” the elderly Dotok said. “We managed to get most of the planet off world before the Xaros arrived. Sent them to the stars in sub-light fleets. We knew that if the Xaros found the world empty…they’d preserve it. Those that stayed behind, they vowed to be gone by the time…in the hope we might have a home to come back to.”

  Pa’lon rapped his cane against the ground and spoke in Dotok as loudly as he could. The rest of the Dotok turned to Stacey and Hale, then got to their knees and bowed their foreheads to the ground.

  “That any of us could return is thanks to you. To humanity. Thank you.” Pa’lon bent stiffly to the ground.

  “Stop. Stop!” Stacey went to lift Pa’lon up and caught herself. She looked at Hale and he helped the Dotok ambassador to his feet, sparing the old one Stacey’s icy touch.

  “What do you want from us?” Pa’lon asked. “We live. We have our world. We can never repay you.”

  “We don’t want anything,” Stacey said, “nothing but your friendship. We brought construction foundries, robot workers. You have your own Crucible and Earth is on the other side. We’ll protect you until you ask us to leave. You have our word.”

  Pa’lon tottered toward the ocean, breathing deeply.

  “The smell, different from Hawaii. Reminds me of incense we had on the ships when I was a child. We had holos of this city, you know. If I remember right, there’s a museum just a few blocks from here…”

  Stacey looked at Hale as the setting sun played golden light across his smile. One hand reached for his, but she pulled it back before touching him.

  ****

  Durand watched Hale a
nd the rest of the VIPs make their way into the Dotok city from the top of the shuttle ramp. She looked over the square, noting the tufts of grass invading the gaps between the tiles. She tapped a cigarette out of a pack and lit it up.

  Lothar and Manfred, the two Dotok exchange pilots assigned to her squadron, made their way halfway down the ramp….then stopped. Manfred dropped the pack over his shoulder onto the metal pathway.

  “What’s wrong?” Durand asked.

  “Stepping on a world means you commit to it,” Manfred said, “Dotok tradition. We do this and we can’t fly with you anymore. No more Breitenfeld.”

  “I’ll admit you two are almost as good as I am and you’re a valuable part of the squadron…Are you asking for my permission?”

  “We accept that this is our home,” Lothar tapped his head, “our ancestral home, but we are of the void.”

  “The war is over,” Manfred peered over the edge of the ramp, as if he was looking into a precipice and not solid ground. “But we have spent our adult lives in the military. I don’t know how to live in…peace.”

  “You two would stay with me?” Durand asked. “Leave this lovely planet full of single Dotok women and do what? Fly Eagles forever?”

  “The Council of Firsts hasn’t called us back from our liaison duty,” Manfred said.

  “We think they forgot about us,” his brother added.

  Durand stomped toward the two pilots, grabbed them by the shoulder and shoved them off the ramp. They stumbled onto the square, shock writ across their faces.

  “We fought to end the war,” she said. “To live a life we choose to live, not one dictated by an enemy or the capricious attention of death on the battlefield. Besides, I will resign as soon as the navy lets me. Who knows what kind of an ass will take over the squadron?”

  “But…what will you do?” Manfred asked.

  She took a deep drag on her cigarette and exhaled a plume of smoke into the aid.

  “Whatever the hell I want,” she said.

  Lothar went to her and nuzzled his head against the side of her shoulder. Manfred did the same to her other side.