The Truth (The Seryys Chronicles)

by Joseph Nicholson

  “Marhuur, we have pursuers. Do not deviate from the course I plotted and I will protect you.”

  The hovercar flew true.

  The two blips came into view; they were police vehicles, much like the Enforcers but smaller and faster, meant for pursuit. However, measured against the Vyysarri dogfighter, they didn’t stand a chance. The pursuit vehicles were outclassed in speed, agility, weaponry, and armor. He almost felt bad for these poor souls who were clearly sent to die in a fiery death. As the pursuit vehicles fell in behind the Sibrex’s car, Sibrex hit the thrusters and closed the gap quickly. The pursuers were dead before they even knew they were in trouble. The giant airlock opened up for them and swallowed them. It cycled over and spat them out into the void of space. Just above the airlock was Sibrex’s command ship. It hung in space like a jagged-toothed titan.

  Without a word, the hangar to the ship opened and admitted them. Marthuur put the shuttle down on the hangar floor and Sibrex followed close behind. As they exited their respective vehicles, they were greeted by Captain Xuur.

  “Commander,” Xuur gasped. “You’re injured! I’ll have a medical team here on the double!”

  “Have them meet me on the bridge,” Sibrex ordered. “I have to address the fleet.”

  “Very well, sir.”

  Xuur ordered a medical team to the bridge and followed Sibrex and his family there. The bridge crew was at attention when they arrived, and Sibrex relieved them immediately. He walked over to the communications console and brought of the fleet-wide battle net—a secure, encrypted channel used during ship-to-ship combat.

  When the channel opened Sibrex spoke. “My crew,” he began. “It is with the deepest, most profound sadness that I must inform you that our beloved Prefect, Sumptaruul, has been assassinated.” A roar of murmurs and gasps even some weeping filled the bridge. Sibrex allowed them a few moments for the announcement to sink in and let his crew come to terms with it. When the din died down, he continued. “He was assassinated by a group of people who call themselves the Black Gate Society. Why was he assassinated? Because he knew the Truth. A truth that has only recently been brought to my attention.

  “Prefect Sumptaruul summoned me to his office yesterday and showed me irrefutable proof that the Vyysarri and Seryysans share a common ancestry.”

  More murmuring and even angry shouting resounded throughout the bridge. Sibrex held up his hand for silence. His ever-obedient crew responded in kind. “I can furnish the proof for all those who wish to see it. However, for you own safety, I can only show you the proof if you choose to follow me. It has been entrusted to me by the Prefect himself before he was killed. I am calling you, my faithful crew, to follow me into the unknown. I am defecting, effective immediately. I can no longer fight in war knowing that I’m killing my brethren. To all those who wish to follow me, you may. To all those who wish to stay behind, you may as well. Those who stay behind will neither be penalized, nor court-martialed, nor will I think any less of you. I will be taking my ship as well as any others that will be necessary as to house the crewmembers that choose to leave with me. I must reiterate that this is not an order, but a request. If you want a new life, one of conscience and free of endless violence, follow me. That is all. I leave you to decide for yourselves.”

  The channel cut and Sibrex slumped down in his command chair and the medical team got to work patching him up.

  “What are your orders?” Xuur asked.

  “We wait for everyone to make up their minds,” Sibrex said, his face buried in his hands.

  “May I ask to see the proof?” Xuur asked tentatively.

  Without a word, Sibrex produced the picture of their mother vessel, the vessel that brought the Vyysarri to Vyysar. Xuur stared, slack-jawed at the picture as if his mind couldn’t comprehend what his eyes were telling him. “This is what got the Prefect killed?”

  “Yes,” Sibrex said softly.

  “Might I recommend that we move the fleet to an easily defendable position in the event that Black Gate Society comes after us?”

  “Yes,” Sibrex said. “That would be a prudent course of action. Signal the fleet. Set a course for the Baarkuu Belt. We can hide there amongst the asteroids until everyone has made up their minds.”

  “Very good, sir,” Xuur said.

  With the signal sent, the whole fleet jumped from Colony One to the Baarkuu Belt and navigated their way into the asteroids where they could hide for the time being.

  “What are your orders, sir?” Xuur asked.

  “We sit and wait.”

  Several agonizing hours later, the final tally came in. Of the fifty ships, nearly a two hundred thousand Vyysarri, only twenty thousand chose to follow him. That meant only three ships would accompany his. The entire time, he was fielding questions about the proof, and he insisted that they would simply have to trust him, but showing them the proof would condemn them to death. Many of them didn’t like that answer and he knew that that was the reason many of them refused to follow him. It saddened him to see so many abandon his campaign, but they had to choose their own paths; he couldn’t do it for them.

  At the end, he stood on the bridge of his ship and watched the exodus unfold. It was a frantic and chaotic buzz of shuttles going from one ship to another as people fled the vessels designated to leave with Sibrex. He felt a pang of regret for the flight control officers trying to orchestrate the madness he watched out the front viewer.

  Within another six hours, the personnel transfers were complete. All those who didn’t want to go were loaded up into their respective ships and sent on their way. The remaining four ships hung back and watched their comrades go home. When all the ships left the belt and made the jump, Sibrex started making arrangements and ordered his warriors to start forming retrieval parties to collect the families of those crewmembers who decided to take the plunge.

  Sibrex walked over to the communications station and scanned the picture. He then sent it to the other ships and ordered their captains to broadcast it to every screen on their ships. With the Truth being broadcasted throughout the small fleet, all their worlds would be crashing down on them, just like it did for him.

  When the laundry list of names and addresses of the families came in, Sibrex sent out his warriors to get them. He decided to narrow it down one ship at a time. When all the families of that ship were retrieved, he would send it to the colony starting with his ship. Then he would jump back and pilot the next ship to the coordinates when the crew’s families were aboard. That way only he knew the coordinates to the colony and he wouldn’t have to share them with anyone.

  The first wave of families flooded the hangar of Sibrex’s ship. With a crew of five thousand, adding families of these crewmembers was causing a shortage of space very quickly. The auxiliary hangars were being set up as refugee camps as the families exited the transports in hordes. Sibrex watched from the hangar flight control room that overlooked the hangar. These poor families were being uprooted from everything they knew and dragged off the darkest edge of the galaxy because their loved ones had made a decision without them.

  “What have I done?” Sibrex whispered to himself.

  “I beg your pardon, sir?” Xuur asked from behind him.

  “Hm?” Sibrex responded. “Oh, just… a moment of insecurity. Did I make the right choice? Did I drag all these people out of their homes for the wrong the reason? Should I have involved my crew at all?”

  “Permission to speak freely?” Xuur asked.

  “Granted, of course, Captain. Speak your mind.”

  “We’ve all been living a lie!” he said angrily. “We have been killing our own kind and that is a sin worse than any other. Worst of all, we’ve all committed it.”

  “Hm.” Sibrex grunted his agreement.

  “You’ve opened our eyes and showed us that there is a better way, a way of peace.”

  “Commander,” a voice came over the intercom.

  “Go ahead.”

  “The last of the
transports bringing in the refugees is leaving Colony Thirteen and is en route. What are your orders?”

  “I will give you my orders in person on the bridge, stand by.”

  “Acknowledged.”

  “Captain, Xuur, accompany me please.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Minutes later, Sibrex strode onto a bridge bustling with activity. Sibrex approached the helm and ask gently to take over. The officer obliged graciously and stepped aside with a bow. Sibrex sat down at the console and flexed his hands. It’d been a long time since he sat at one of these.

  “Commuincations, open a channel on the battle net.”

  “Channel open, sir.”

  “This is Commander Sibrex. We will be making a jump in the next ten minutes. Your orders are to jump to the Fang Nebula and start retrieval procedures from there for the next ship. I will join you there in a transport once the refugees are secured. In the meantime, be careful and proceed with caution. Sibrex out.”

  Through the main viewer, the three ships left the belt, dived into their respective micro-black holes, and disappeared. Sibrex waited until he got confirmation that the final transport with the refugees had entered the main hangar. It was a long wait, or at least it felt that way. Finally the word came. Sibrex keyed the jump coordinates into the computer and watched the maw open before them. A heartbeat later, they emerged from black space and were immediately targeted.

  “Unidentified vessel, state your destination and business!”

  “Stand down!” Sibrex boomed. “This is Supreme Commander Sibrex of the Vyysarri Navy. We are en route to the separatist colony with refugees. I was provided with these coordinates personally by Prefect Sumptaruul before he was assassinated. I have the picture.”

  “Open a visual channel,” the crisp and impatient voice demanded.

  “It will be done,” Sibrex said, nodding to his communication officer who opened a channel.

  The main viewer blinked from the fleet of Fang-Class destroyers ten ships strong to the youthful countenance of a Vyysarri male. “Let me see the picture.”

  “As you wish,” Sibrex complied as he held the picture up and had the bridge camera to zoomein on it.

  “Clearance granted,” he said. “I am Baarduul. Master of this vessel and acting Prefect of the Crimson Colony. Welcome, Commander Sibrex.”

  “Thank you,” Sibrex said. “My scanners aren’t picking up any colonies in the immediate area. Is it cloaked?”

  “No. The colony is not here. You will follow us by piggybacking on us for the next jump. We cannot afford to let the colony’s coordinates fall into anyone’s hands.”

  “A sensible precaution,” Sibrex agreed.

  “Please standby and wait for the jump.”

  “Acknowledged.”

  Within minutes, both ships emerged from black space near an unknown nebula acting as a backdrop for the colony itself. The colony was a large hodgepodge of ship hulls, old battle stations, and barges slapped haphazardly into and onto a giant asteroid.

  “Welcome to Crimson Colony. Bring your ship two within a hundred miles of the colony and prepare to be boarded. We will start processing the refugees.”

  “I feel compelled to warn you that I will be returning with three more ships of refugees,” Sibrex added.

  “Duly noted.” Baarduul said.

  “I will bring them to previous coordinates personally and individually.”

  “We will have ships waiting to escort you.”

  “Thank you for your assistance.”

  With that, the channel cut out and the bridge crew was looking out at the colony once more. Sibrex got up and strode to the lift that would take him to the main the hanger. Within minutes he entered the flight control room and saw that the previous chaos had died down and all the refugees had been moved to the auxiliary hangars where they would wait their turn to be processed and granted admittance.

  “Get me twenty pilots,” he said to the flight control officer. “I am taking the all of our transports with me back to the other ships. Let’s see if we can’t speed up the retrieval process.”

  “Right away, sir.” He clicked away at his console and said, “I have twenty pilots on their way.”

  “Very well,” Sibex said. “Have them meet me on the hangar floor.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Thank you.”

  Five minutes later, his twenty pilots were standing at attention before their commander.

  “I am taking you all with me to aid in the retrieval process. With forty transports versus twenty, it will greatly speed up the process and keep fellow crewmembers and their families out of harm’s way. We will jump back to the Fang Nebula by piggybacking through black space.”

  The pilots all nodded and got in their ships.

  Within minutes, they were docking with the next ship to leave. Within the hour, the pilots coordinated their efforts with others already out on their retrieval runs and began making runs of their own. For the next sixty hours, Sibrex repeated this process until the last of the four ships had made it to the colony. By that time, the first ship had been processed and cleared to enter the colony.

  As the refugees got their admittance, Baarduul sent a shuttle to retrieve Sibrex and bring him to the main office where Baarduul was waiting.

  “Ah, Commander Sibrex, please have a seat.”

  “Thank you,” he said as he took a seat at the desk. This was the second time in three days that he had sat at the desk of a world leader. It would also be the second time in three days that a world leader would drop a bomb on him.

  “We have much to discuss, Sibrex, I need you ready to take my position as soon as possible. We have been without a Prefect for some time and the weight of that responsibility has taken its toll on me and my family.”

  “I am to be taking over now?” he asked incredulously.

  “Yes,” Baarduul said with a look of confusion on his face. “If Sumptaruul gave you the picture, he clearly intended for you to lead us.”

  “I suppose he said that,” Sibrex remembered his last conversation with the Prefect. “But…”

  “Are you not willing to lead us?” Baarduul asked, clearly hurt by Sibrex’s apprehension.

  Sibrex was silent for a long time. The tension on Baarduul’s face was more than evident.

  “Yes,” he said at length. “I am. And I will.”

  “Excellent!” Baarduul said with a clap of his hands. “We will make the announcement in two days once all of your people become citizens!”

  “Excellent,” Sibrex said with none of the enthusiasm that Baarduul showed.

  In the quarters of his ship, he sat looking out the window at the slowing drifting colony full of people that he had just agreed to lead. The total population of the colony was just under two hundred thousand, and he was adding about twenty thousand more, plus four ships. Sibrex couldn’t help but wonder why he was so apprehensive about taking command. His fleet was not much bigger in terms of population, and he was leading them into battle. This was mostly administrative work, his decision would cost lives, but not on the scale he previously faced as a Supreme Commander. He’d lost thousands of men under his command; that was war. This was different.

  The next day came without sleep. Sibrex was tired and beaten. It had been over three days since he had slept, but he couldn’t quiet his mind long enough for sleep to take him away to a blissful, dreamless night. Twelve hours before he was to be sworn in as Prefect of the free Vyysarri, exhaustion took its toll and he finally slept. It was his wife Marthuur who woke him two hours before the ceremony was to begin. She helped him don his dress uniform and braid his long, white hair. His children watched, pride on their faces. It warmed his heart.

  The time came and Sibrex stepped out on the stage before roughly two hundred and twenty thousand Vyysarri. The crowd erupted into applause and cheering when he took the stage. He stepped up to the podium and held up his hand for silence. The crowd hushed almost immediately.

  He
drew in a deep breath and spoke. “We are all here because of one reason.” he started. “We know the Truth. The Truth has set us free, free of our bonds of hatred for a race a beings that are actually our brethren. When Prefect Sumptaruul called me into his office, he knew that telling what he knew would end his life, and he gave it to give us all a brighter future. He believed that one day, the war would be over and that the Seryysans and Vyysarri could coexist. I believe in that as well. I grow weary of war. I grow weary of sending brave warriors to their deaths—needless deaths. I grow weary of killing. My fellow free Vyysarri, I will do everything in my power to bring peace to the galaxy. Undoubtedly, the Black Gate Society is placing one of their people in office as I speak. My first order of business as your prefect will be to assassinate the Black Gate conspirator and replace him with a one of our own. That man will be Baarduul.”

  Baarduul’s mouth hit the floor in shock as thunderous applause caused his ears to ring.

  “Next on my agenda will be to increase our numbers. There is power in numbers. There is strength in many voices versus just one. We will expand to make other colonies. The Truth must be known and we will do everything we can to bring our brothers and sisters—Seryysan and Vyysarri alike—into the light.”

  His speech was met with thunderous applause that shook the building in which they all gathered. Sibrex looked upon his people and for the first time in his life, he felt truly accomplished. He would lead the Vyysarri into an era of peace, he knew it.

  That night he was speaking with Baarduul about the daily functions of the colony which led to more tactical things. Baarduul told him that, including the four ships he brought with him, they had a total of fifteen ships with a full complement of dogfighters and pilots for each. The colony itself had a capital ship-grade shield generator and gun emplacements all along the equator of the colony for protection. When asked what kind of propulsion the colony had, Baarduul responded by saying, “We have none. We go where the solar winds take us.”