Ixan Legacy Box Set

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Ixan Legacy Box Set Page 10

by Scott Bartlett


  A tremor ran through Fesky. “You’re right.” Bobbing her head, she left the conference room.

  Chapter 19

  It Rings True

  After shuffling through the dimensions a thousand times, a million times, Teth’s destroyer emerged into what he’d come to think of as the Prime Reality. And why not think of it that way? He came from this reality, after all, and it would certainly serve as his crucible. For him, no other reality truly mattered.

  As for where they might be inside that coveted universe, which he believed himself destined to dominate, it was very difficult to say. That they might be billions of light years away from the Milky Way was more likely than not, and thanks to the shifting relationships between the various universes, it would take no shortage of trial and error to figure out how to return to the galaxy that was his target, not to mention the time it would take to recharge the Apex’s capacitors enough for another interdimensional journey.

  But that’s the price we pay for being forced to flee, isn’t it?

  He slammed a massive fist onto the arm of his throne-like command seat, causing most of the bridge crew to jump. Not Breka, though. No, his Strategy auxiliary was as calm as always. A sturdy Ixan, Breka, of the purest bloodlines.

  The engagement with Husher had not ended the way Teth had envisioned. He hadn’t expected the captain to perish, of course, though he certainly would have welcomed that outcome. The AI that had been assigned to Teth advised him not to expect Husher’s death this day, and he hadn’t, no matter how hard he’d tried to achieve it.

  He had expected to leave Husher much more…diminished than they had, however. Teth had meant his Cleavers to tear up the Vesta’s innards, and his particle beam had been intended to find something vital.

  His intel had claimed Husher was weakened, a shadow of the bold young lieutenant who’d faced him during the Second Galactic War. He’d certainly seemed pathetic inside Piper Hall, and also during their remote exchange from aboard their respective shuttles. But the human’s swift reaction to the particle beam, which was technology he couldn’t possibly have known about…

  …well, that reaction had reminded Teth of Captain Keyes, his old nemesis, who’d died in the attempt to kill him.

  Clearly, Teth needed to readjust his expectations, and also to apply his intel on Husher in a more intelligent way.

  That began with motivating his crew.

  “Communications auxiliary.”

  “Yes, Immaculate One?” the auxiliary said, cowering a little.

  “Be not afraid. Summon my entire crew to the Deployment Bay. I wish for my eyes to feast on their strength while I address them as one.”

  “W-what of ship functions, Immaculate One?”

  “We’re in the middle of the void,” Teth said gently, forked tongue playing over his fangs. “There are no enemies to face here, no navigational hazards to concern us. We can rest, if only for a brief moment.” When he finished, Teth removed his ceremonial broadsword from the rack that held it fast to the back of the command seat, secure in its sheath. He affixed that sheath to his waist, toying with the idea of stopping in his quarters to behold his reflection before continuing on to the Deployment Bay.

  No. He would deny himself that pleasure, as he denied himself many pleasures. That was part of what kept him honed.

  Ixa darted past Teth as he strode through corridor after banner-hung corridor. They took great pains not to disturb him as they rushed by, but they also feared the consequences of being out of place once he arrived inside the bay.

  Most of the corridors’ banners were scarlet, like those he’d ordered hung around the Tumbran Hall, though some were the white of purity, and others were the black of space. Teth enjoyed the grandeur they brought to his vessel—he felt they lent his cause the weight it was due.

  When he entered the vast Deployment Bay, his thousands of Ixa were deployed in perfect ranks, just as he’d known they would be. The augmentations the Progenitors had made had turned his brethren into exquisite soldiers; lightning-quick, their physical might now unrivaled even by the Gok. The enhancements had come out well enough that the Progenitors had since expressed an interest in cloning tens of thousands more Ixa, with the intention of making them their main infantry unit in the coming war. Teth had given them his blessing.

  In the front row stood his Primary Officers, the purest and most cunning from among the Ixa that had survived the last war with the humans. All of those Ixa were now arrayed before him.

  “Strategy auxiliary Breka,” Teth called, his voice amplified via a device woven into his uniform’s collar.

  “Yes, Immaculate One?” Breka responded, meeting Teth’s gaze without flinching.

  “Come to the fore and stand at my right hand.”

  With crisp form, Breka marched forward, about-turned, and stomped his foot, coming to attention beside his Command Leader.

  “This,” Teth said, spreading his hand toward Breka, “is an Ixan. He was the architect of the plan that finally succeeded in exterminating all the half-breeds and purifying our species. The Ixa form a body, and that body was once plagued with disease, but now we are healthy once more. Is that not so, Strategy auxiliary Breka?”

  “It is so, Immaculate One!”

  “And tell me, to whom does victory offer itself?”

  “Victory offers itself to the strong, Immaculate One!” Breka called.

  “Yes, but how did the strong become strong?”

  Breka fell silent, presumably while he puzzled over the answer.

  “I will tell you. The strong won their strength by denying themselves what they wanted in the moment so that they could have what they desired for the future—power. In a word, the strong became so through sacrifice. Does that ring true for you, Strategy auxiliary Breka?”

  “It rings true, Immaculate One!”

  “And if two strong beings enter combat, who wins?”

  “He who is willing to sacrifice most, Immaculate One!”

  “Not only that, Breka. Victory belongs to he who is willing to make even the ultimate sacrifice, if that is what victory requires.”

  “Yes, Immaculate One.”

  “Strategy auxiliary Breka. You are unarmed. If I drew my broadsword—” Steel rasped against leather as Teth exposed the gleaming blade. “—would you die as a coward, or would you kneel, willingly sacrificing yourself to me, if that was what I required?”

  Without hesitation, Breka knelt, pushing down the collar of his midnight uniform in order to better expose his neck.

  “You are the best Ixan before me, Breka,” Teth said, and he swung his sword overhead.

  The blade flickered downward, and Teth paused with the razor-sharp edge just kissing the back of Breka’s neck.

  “Rise, Breka,” Teth said, with some mirth. “You have reaffirmed your worthiness.”

  The Strategy auxiliary stood tall. With that, Teth put his entire body into swinging the broadsword at Breka, cleaving the Ixan from his neck to just below his right pectoral. The hulking Ixan slid from Teth’s blade to the deck, spasming.

  “Do not fail me again,” he told the remaining Ixa as he marched out of the Deployment Bay.

  Chapter 20

  Fairly Specific Intel

  In a rare empty moment, Husher found himself fishing Keyes’s wooden crucifix from his desk drawer and letting it dangle from his fingers by its leather thong.

  Admiral Iver’s reply had arrived via com drone on the fifth day after Husher sent the request for orders. It informed him that the order had already been sent for the Vesta’s battle group to rejoin her with all possible speed, and that they should be underway within the next three days. That would mean a week or more before they joined their capital starship in the Wintercress System.

  At least it gives us time to avail of Wintercress’ shipbuilding facilities for some much-needed repairs after our scrapes with Teth and the Gok.

  The drone had also contained orders concerning what to do once the Vesta’s battle g
roup returned: together, they were to patrol the Union’s most far-flung systems, or at least the ones closest to the Ixa’s old home. Iver had apparently drawn the same conclusions from Teth’s demands that Fesky had: the Concord System, formerly the Baxa System, was almost certainly his base of operations, and so that was where they could expect new threats to originate from.

  For two decades, the Interstellar Union had been working with the Integrated Galactic Fleet to make member systems as safe as possible. Planetary colonies with populations over two million enjoyed a full complement of orbital defense platforms, and every system saw regular patrols, either from capital starships and their battle groups or individually operating warships.

  Even so, the systems nearest the former Baxa System were among the smallest and most under-defended in the Union, and so it was the decision of the admiralty to deploy three of the fleet’s eight capital starships to exclusively patrol those systems.

  Husher had to hand it to the admiralty—their orders were decisive, which was somewhat uncharacteristic for them. Normally, they were just as…concerned with placating politicians and bureaucrats as Husher was, as evidenced by Iver’s willingness to sign off on his termination if he hadn’t agreed to the Awareness Training.

  As per IGF protocol, Husher ordered the com drone stowed with the other four that comprised his supercarrier’s automated communications fleet. Building, maintaining, and storing the drones added up to an expensive proposition, and after exchanging messages it was standard practice for both parties to simply keep each other’s drones for future use.

  The drone had also arrived with an unencrypted partition containing civilian files from the Damask System’s interplanetary net. It would include messages from loved ones as well as the latest media and software updates, so Husher had to assume morale in Cybele had been lifted at least a little.

  He laid the crucifix on the table, its bottom pointing toward Husher’s left. Why had Keyes chosen to leave it to him in his will, and only that? Husher had heard of people sending vindictive messages using their wills, leaving their “beneficiaries” weird or useless items. But he knew that was far from Keyes’s style. Husher had been close with the man, or as close as a young upstart and his commanding officer could get. Over the course of the Second Galactic War, they’d won each other’s respect.

  No, if Keyes had left him the crucifix, it was because he considered it valuable.

  Even so… Husher couldn’t make heads or tails of it. He opened the drawer, dropped the wooden cross in, and stood up with the intention of visiting Cybele and checking on Ochrim’s progress.

  At that moment, his Oculenses notified him of a voice-only call from Major Gamble, and Husher willed them to put the call through.

  “Captain, my marines just caught some type of activist who managed to make her way inside the crew section.”

  This never ends, does it? “Did you get the name?”

  “She declined to give her name, but we did find her in the database easily enough. Name’s Maeve Aldaine, a Sociology undergrad at Cybele U.”

  Ah, an old friend. “Is Ms. Aldaine aware she’s now officially a federal offender?”

  “I may have mentioned something along those lines.”

  “Good. Give her our best cell in the brig, and make sure she knows it’s the coziest one we could find for her. I’m on my way into Cybele now, but I’ll have a chat with her when I get back.”

  “Will do, sir.”

  “Husher out.”

  It was difficult not to smile to himself as he made his way through the Vesta’s crew corridors and toward the hatch that let out into the simulated desert. Trespassing on a military vessel—or in the Vesta’s case, the crew section of a military vessel—was a federal offense, good for either ten years in prison or a hefty fine. In fact, it was one of the few things about the military that civilians hadn’t been given unfettered access to.

  Who knows how long that’ll last, though. The way things are going, I could easily be giving guided tours by the end of next week.

  He continued on toward Cybele, trying to banish the mental image of Vin Husher the Smiley Supercarrier Captain waving a gaggle of tourists through corridor after corridor, charming them with endearing anecdotes about the ship and her crew.

  When he reached Ochrim’s house, a knock didn’t bring the Ixan to the door, nor did the bell. Husher sent a transmission request.

  “Ochrim,” he said once the alien accepted. “You’re in the lab?”

  “I am.”

  “I’m coming down. Send your door the command to let me in.”

  The front door clicked, and the call ended. Husher stepped inside, making sure to secure the entrance behind him. That done, he proceeded to the rear of the house, pried up the floor tile, and activated the panel, which slid aside for him. He began climbing down the ladder.

  “Nice day out,” he remarked as his foot met the lab’s floor.

  Ochrim glanced up from where he was standing over a table, using a screwdriver to fiddle around with something. The Ixan peered at him over small, round spectacles that perched on the end of his faded muzzle. “A joke.”

  “You should try one sometime,” Husher said. “Damn, I forgot to bring down beer. Do you have a mini-fridge down here or anything?”

  “I’m afraid not, Captain.”

  “Just my luck. Have you heard about the visit your brother paid us?”

  “My…brother?” Ochrim’s hand paused mid-screw.

  “Teth.”

  Ochrim blinked. “I follow shipboard news on the narrownet, and I’ve read rumors about what happened, as well as complaints that our military isn’t telling us more. I also felt the tremors from whatever it was we were struck with. But I was unaware our attacker was someone claiming to be my brother.”

  “Not just claiming, Ochrim. I ran into him myself, down on Tyros. He’s bigger, now.”

  That brought a silence from the scientist, as well as a baffled expression that Husher found pretty gratifying. It was a rare thing to behold.

  “Teth seemed to have a couple pieces of fairly specific intel about us,” he went on. “And that was just what he let on. You wouldn’t happen to be the source of that intel, would you?”

  “Of course not.”

  Husher gave a dry chuckle. “You say that like it should be obvious, but a glance at your history tells us it’s anything but.” He marched toward the Ixan, and to the scientist’s credit, he didn’t flinch. When Husher neared, he yanked the metal stool from behind where the Ixan stood, dragged it back a meter or so, and took a seat. “Let’s see how good I am at reading you,” Husher said, grinning. “You’re even more reserved than usual today, and that tells me two things. One, you have something new. And two, the reason you haven’t notified me about having something new is that you’re reluctant to share it with me. You’ll claim that the reason for that is your reluctance to violate the Union’s strictures on developing weapons for military use.”

  “I am—”

  Holding up a hand to forestall him, Husher said, “Stow it. That’s what you’ll claim, but you do know what it’s actually going to seem like to me, don’t you? Your reluctance to share any and all advancements with me will seem very suspicious, in light of your brother’s reappearance. Now, assuming for a moment that you’re sincere in your misgivings, I want you to know that I plan to submit any usable findings to the admiralty first. If they don’t like that I even went about supporting this research, then I’ll take full responsibility. I won’t even mention your name. But Ochrim, our society is stagnating as a military power, and I have to do something about that. Now, with all that said, why don’t you tell me what you’ve found?”

  A brief pause from Ochrim, punctuated by a sigh. “I believe I’ve discovered how inter-dimensional travel might be possible. If I—”

  “Just tell me what you need. I’ll get the explanation of how it works from you in the event that you actually manage to make it work. Sorry, I don’t think
I have the fortitude today to make it through a lecture like the last one you gave me.”

  “Very well. I need the latest design and drafting software from DeskChain. Not what is commercially available, but the edition they offer to corporations and governments able to pay, which has the more robust simulation capabilities I require.”

  “Not a simple request. But all right, Ochrim. I’ll see what strings I can pull.” Husher turned to walk toward the ladder leading up to Ochrim’s residence, then stopped, glancing back at the Ixan. “The rumors you heard about our engagement…did they include how the enemy warship seemed to just vanish?”

  Ochrim inclined his head. “A couple of them did.”

  “Do you think it’s possible that Teth has learned how to flip back and forth between universes?”

  The Ixan nodded. “Very.”

  Chapter 21

  Head Fascist

  “I see a bright young lady with potential oozing out her ears,” Husher said as he drew level with Aldaine’s cell. “What’s she doing in a military vessel’s brig?”

  Aldaine stood, fists balled at her sides as she turned a cold glare on him. “Fighting fascist human supremacists.”

  Husher raised his eyebrows. “Wow. That’s quite a charge. What was your plan, exactly, for fighting these fascists?”

  “I’m talking about you. You’re the head fascist.”

  “I see. What was your plan?”

  Aldaine fell silent for a moment, but she must have decided there wasn’t much point in withholding, because she said, “I planned to access the ship’s emergency broadcasting system so I could speak to everyone on board the Vesta, including the crew.”

  “Misusing an emergency broadcasting system—yet another federal offense. Do you even know where the equipment is located?”

  “I would have found it.”

  “I tend to doubt that, considering you were apprehended within three minutes of making your way in here. How did you manage to get in, by the way?”

 

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