Sarah laughed. “This is Peiun; he boarded the Fortune Runner after we left.”
“Durendal ambushed me the moment I arrived here,” Peiun said.
“What the hell’s an Imperial like you doing there?” Chloe asked him.
“I had my reasons,” he said. “But it seems what I found had led me straight into this mess.”
Chloe paused, and went to retrieve a data crystal from her suit’s storage slot. It took him a few seconds while dealing with the light and damage to his eyes, to make out the large and bulky design of the crystal. He never saw one that big. “Would it have to do with this?” Chloe asked him.
He shook his head. “I have little to no interest in that.”
“I do, however.”
Peiun and the two sisters looked behind and saw the source of the new voice. Penelope had arrived with Doctor Travis Pierce following behind her, his flushed face huffing and puffing. The two must have run quite the distance from the train station to the apartment.
Penelope neared Chloe, clapping her hands at her in a celebratory manner, keeping her eyes on the strange crystal Chloe held. “Maraschino sent me to recover Devorei’s data crystal. I’ll accept that as payment for my service.”
“What service?” Peiun snorted at her.
“You two would be dead if it wasn’t for my warning.”
“What’s the significance of this crystal?” he asked. “It’s is a lot larger than most.”
“It’s a Whisper memory crystal,” Chloe said, looking down at it. “It’s designed to copy memories of a person, and then transfer them into a next. I’ve become . . . quite the expert on those from past experience. When I saw Devorei use it, I knew something was up.”
“He’s not a Whisper member, if that’s what you’re getting at,” Penelope said.
“How would you know?” Chloe said. “They all use fake memories to blend into whatever organization they need to infiltrate.”
“And we stole the tech they use,” Penelope said, crossing her arms. “Backing one’s memories up is standard practice with us in Maraschino.”
“So, everything Devorei knows is inside this?” Sarah asked.
“Yes, his memories, his conscience, everything,” Penelope said. “In essence he can be reborn, we just need to find a body, and upload his mind into it.” Facing Chloe, Penelope asked, “So that’s why you took it and fled here? You thought he was with Whisper?”
“Moriston killed him after he finished his job with us. Poor kid didn’t see it coming. I was pretty pissed off about it. It wasn’t what I signed up for. I wanted to know why he had to die.”
“You signed up . . . for black ops work.” Durendal wasn’t dead.
The group faced the battered, beaten, and corrupted EDF soldier, crawling on the ground toward them. He sat up against the exhaust vent Peiun and Sarah had been using for cover, smirking, and shaking his bloody and burned face.
“I signed up to eliminate all threats to the UNE,” Chloe said to him. “Not kill our working partners because they outlived their usefulness.”
“He wasn’t human,” Durendal said. “And you know damn well all threats to the UNE are aliens.”
“Not all. And not him.”
“How many people died on Earth two months ago?” Durendal spat. “How many more died a hundred years ago? How many more need to die before alien lovers like you wake up and accept humanity is facing its end.”
Peiun stood, eying the man that made his stay on the planet frustrating. His still-working hand deployed his claws from his fingers. “His lies irritate me, want me to kill him?”
“Don’t you want to know what became of your psionic?” Durendal said to him.
“Alesyna . . .” he muttered, remembering that Durendal was the one that defeated and captured her. “Where is she?”
Durendal looked at Chloe. “My superiors have a message for you, an exchange. My life for Alesyna.” Durendal created a holo screen depicting the map of the Morutrin system, and a pulsing dot at the edge of it. “You can meet them at this location. Make your choice soon, or she’ll be lobotomized, and we’ll move forward.”
Chloe pulled the holo screen to her face and then pushed it to Peiun. Accepting the offer meant Durendal walked away from murdering Moe, and other people that lost their lives because of the Terran Legion.
That was unacceptable in Peiun’s eyes. “No deal.”
“No,” Chloe interjected. “I accept.”
“Sis?”
“Tell your friends, we agree,” Chloe said. “You are still connected, right?”
Durendal nodded. “Just sent the transmission. We’ll be waiting, but not long, we’re on a tight schedule.”
“I appreciate you making the sacrifice on recovering my officer,” Peiun said to Chloe. “But the capture of Alesyna is now an Imperial matter, not a UNE one. We can handle it from here.”
“I’m not doing it for her; I’m doing it to stop whatever it is the Terran Legion plans on doing with her at those coordinates.”
His eyebrow rose. “What’s out there?”
“An abandoned space bridge,” Chloe said. “And, if I’m right, they’re going to use her lobotomized brain to help operate it.”
41 Moriston
ESV Marcus Antonius
UNE Fleet, Cygnus system
October 16, 2118, 07:17 SST (Sol Standard Time)
The fleet was no longer missing.
It never was to begin with.
The UNE wormhole network was modeled after Lyonria wormholes left behind when they vanished from the galaxy in ancient times. Those wormholes were capable of connecting to others throughout the galaxy. It didn’t have to be a point-A and point-B connection like the UNE wormholes. A wormhole could connect with one located twenty light-years away one moment, then disconnect and reconnect with a different one a little over ninety light-years away. Captain Foster and her crew experienced a similar phenomenon during their Sirius expedition, where the local wormholes there could connect to various smaller planet side gates, provided they had input the right command.
The UNE wormholes, in theory, could operate in the same manner just humans opted to leave them running perpetually. It saved a lot of time not having to connect and disconnect, then reconnect all over. Easier to build a point-A to point-B gate, then build a point-C and point-D gate and have them run all day every day. Shutting down one gate and forcing it reconnect to a different one was pretty easy as Special Agent Albert Moriston discovered.
The wormhole in Kapteyn’s Star was terminated moments after the Johannes Kepler flew in, and then seconds later re-established to link with another system, the Cygnus system, located at the frontier of UNE controlled space. The UNE fleet at Kapteyn’s Star was ordered through the gate at that point, not that they had much of a choice. The Draconians weren’t pleased to see they arrived, and probably not pleased to know someone had tampered with the wormhole’s gate controls under their noses prior to the fighting and had the nerve to take something of great value to them that was in the system.
Once clear of the wormhole, its settings returned to normal operation, the Kapteyn’s Star gate linked back to the Gliese 1061 system. Meanwhile the Cygnus system gate remained offline, nobody complained, or noticed. The colonists in the system were of the first wave, and so were still in the process of unpacking and laying the groundwork for the first settlement. Returning to the wormhole wasn’t on their minds, nor was the large fleet idling in the system.
They hadn’t gotten around to launching satellites, and the QEC relay. It suffered a setback in its activation, random technical issues, courtesy of EISS, one of many gifts they brought to the system, like the lack of psionic colonists. The Cygnus system was cut off from all UNE transmissions, with the exception of the newly arrived fleet, a fleet that remained silent about their presence.
Like all ship captains, they followed the orders of their admirals, like Admiral Furnadjiev. When the order was given to come to this system, and rema
in in radio silence, they followed. The official reason was that Draconians had been seen in the region. They were to stand watch over the weak and helpless developing colony that had no means of calling for help—a noble cause.
In reality, the good admiral was on EISS’ payroll, and under his uniform, wore the tattoos of the Terran Legion. As time went by, propaganda began to spread across the interior of the ships, promoting human supremacy, blaming the loss of human life within the last one hundred years on alien violence. The crews of said ships were already craving blood of dragons due to the incursion, many of whom preferred direct reprisal against them, over Captain Foster’s mission of peace.
The hatred of nonhumans grew. It started with the Draconians, and then evolved to the Hashmedai for what they did to Earth, Radiance for allowing the Celestial Order to raise and attempting to control the UNE government during its infancy, then Poniga and Undine, who worshipped Tiamat, the Goddess of the Draconians, and the Qirak for placing money above the lives of humans. Some captains shut down the propaganda, while others turned their backs on it. Not that it mattered, in the end, every ship had at least one person siding with the thoughts of the Terran Legion.
In some way, it reminded Moriston of the tactics the Celestial Order used to recruit people to their cause. There was no call-to-arms, no enlistment, just the power to mold the minds of those around you to agree with your ideas. Unlike the order, there was no space wizardry involved, this was straight-up taking advantage of the sheep mentality all humans had buried within them, especially humans stuck aboard starships, imprisoned by an endless ocean of vacuum, cold temperatures, and deadly cosmic radiation. It made Moriston smile, especially when the order was given to the fleet to move out as the wormhole behind them powered on once again. It connected to the Morutrin system and a flight path was laid out for them.
Moriston had Admiral Furnadjiev in his pocket, starship captains that would blindly follow his orders and four other ships full of anger and hatred to those that weren’t human. Said ships were convinced 100 percent that if the human race was to survive any longer they had to support the word of the Terran Legion. To do otherwise was considered to be antihuman.
Supporting the word of the Terran Legion meant shooting at what Moriston pointed at.
He pointed at the Uelcovis system.
42 Foster
Phylarlie’s manor
Muro, Taxah, Uelcovis system
October 16, 2118, 07:38 SST (Sol Standard Time)
“You know I’m really gettin’ sick ‘n’ tired of this.”
Rebecca Foster rose from the sixth and final bed she looked under, being the bed she slept on. It was dark and empty, just like the rest. She stood, shaking her head, and holding her hips, and then gave the bed’s leg a swift kick.
“Foster, did you seriously just check under the bed for Boyd?” Chevallier asked her.
She threw her hands up in frustration. “Why not? It’s the one place I haven’t been checkin’ since people started going MIA.”
“Our savior for all galactic life is a captain that checks under a bed for a missing soldier,” Chevallier said drily.
Boyd was missing when Foster, Bailey and Chevallier had woken. Maxwell and LeBoeuf too technically, though Foster and Chevallier had both agreed the psionic duo were passed out someplace else in the manor having spent the night—or day, depending on one’s perspective—being pleasured by members of Phylarlie’s multi-gender harem.
Given the way Boyd had been acting, it was safe to assume he didn’t slip out to empty his prostate. Something malicious was going on, something none of the guards or servants in the halls caught wind of. Unless, of course, they were in on it.
Phylarlie entered the room, wearing yet another one of her brief dresses with a long translucent cape that brushed across the floor behind her, looking like a vampire queen. “Did you sleep well?” she asked the two humans.
“Not really, Boyd is missing,” Foster said.
“He might have left looking for some horizontal refreshment,” Phylarlie said.
“Somehow I doubt it,” Foster said. I wonder if the friction between the two got bad. She was an assassin, and he did bad-mouth her. She must have gone to make an example of him. “But that ain’t why you’re here, is it?”
“No, it isn’t,” Phylarlie said. “My team is ready to give you the vortex key and protective substance.”
“So we’s free to go?”
“After a few systems checks and after you’ve collected your missing crew, yes,” Phylarlie said. “You seem to be missing two others in addition to Boyd.”
“Yeah, not sure what became of them either,” Chevallier said.
“As I explained to Foster earlier, this place has a strange way of drawing you in with its numerous temptations,” she said to Chevallier. “If I come across them, I’ll pass on the message.” Phylarlie turned to exit, stopping in front of the door briefly to address Foster one last time. “Speaking of messages, tell General Irons, Yominv . . . says thanks.”
The Imperial lord of the system vanished into the halls, something Foster figured she ought to do. “I’mma head back to the Kepler.”
Chevallier nodded. “I’ll stay here and keep an eye out for Boyd.”
“Yominv too, if you can find someone that speaks any English. I got the feelin’ Phylarlie hasn’t said shit to him since I gave her that data crystal.”
“I don’t even know where to start a search like that. What does he look like? Where would we find him?”
“That’s a good question . . . Irons never did provide that.”
Chevallier’s recent words were by far the most nonaggressive statement she made to Foster since the death of her mother. It gave her hope that this was perhaps the start of the two being a team again, and the start of Chevallier’s healing of the loss in her life.
Foster left the manor with EVE following behind having woken up from her sleep mode. They made the long walk back to the landing pad where the Johannes Kepler remained idle and covered with frost from the elements. On board the ship, a number of Hashmedai personnel moved back and forth with antigravity loading carts, carrying components for the new vortex key and large vats full of the protective substance collected from the Rezeki’s Rage.
The last of the Hashmedai teams left via the entry ramp in the cargo bay, forcing Foster to take a step back. She backpedaled until she hit the side of the Johannes Kepler’s transport remaining idle in the cargo bay.
It was warm to the touch, odd considering all the cold air being let in with the opened entrance, as the shields of the Johannes Kepler had been deactivated. Foster ran her fingers across the transport’s surface, noting that it was warm all across especially near its engines. It was in use recently.
“EVE, was the transport required to bring this stuff aboard?” Foster asked her.
“No, Captain, it was not.”
“It’s warm, was it used recently?”
“That is correct, Captain,” EVE said. “Flight Lieutenant Chang and Sergeant Boyd used the transport recently.”
Foster rapidly turned away from the transport, facing EVE with stern stare. “What the hell?! Why didn’t you me tell us sooner?”
“I was unaware you were you searching for him.”
“Didn’t you hear us curse and rage ‘cause we couldn’t find him?”
“I was in sleep mode until you requested that I follow you here, Captain,” EVE said. “You did not speak during our walk from the manor to Johannes Kepler, nor did you ask about his disappearance.”
Foster made a mental note to adjust EVE’s sleep mode functions, or at least order her not to enter it when she was supposed to stand watch while they slept. Slept . . . that was something Boyd didn’t do the past night, he went to have a conversation with EVE.
That’s when he must have slipped out, after I felt back asleep. I should have forced myself to stay awake. “EVE, are they aboard now?”
“Flight Lieutenant Chang is in his qua
rters, Sergeant Boyd, is not aboard currently.”
“Chang!” Fostered yelled as she climbed up the ladder to exit the cargo bay. “You gots some splainin’ to do mister!”
She arrived at the third deck, ringing the chime to his quarters’ door repeatedly. She heard muffled thumps and footsteps from beyond the door. The steps got closer. She kept ringing the chime regardless.
Chang’s tired eye face and staggering body, dressed in his military night attire, appeared as the doors opened.
“Chang, where’s Boyd at? Better question, why in the hell did you see the need to sneak out with him on our transport without givin’ me the heads-up?” And then came back without saying anything either.
“Ah fuck . . .” Chang rubbed the side of his face, hesitating to give Foster an answer, let alone look at her in the face. “Look, Boyd came to me earlier today, damn near pulled my ass out of bed too.”
“What did he want?”
“He ordered me to give him a lift to some jungle on this planet.”
Her teeth gritted, and her arms crossed. Foster was in command, and if not her, then Williams, then Saressea. Boyd didn’t call the shots. “’scuse me?”
“Remember, Captain, I’m military, and so is he, and he outranks me by a lot,” Chang said. “He ordered me to take the transport, it seemed urgent, and he made it clear I wasn’t to say anything about it, for his safety.”
“Damn it. The Hashmedai in charge of this system asked that none of us leave until she said so. I doubt she wanted any of us snooping around in regions of the planet we ain’t invited too.”
“Sorry if I overstepped, but there was nobody else awake at the time to say otherwise, and again, he wanted us to leave right away. I had no choice.”
“And that transport? You went there and back with it?”
“Nobody saw us,” Chang said. “I kept us real low to the surface to avoid detection and went as fast as we could without crashing into hills ‘n’ shit.”
With the exception of the sounds of air vents behind blowing fresh air into the deck, there was silence. Foster had nothing more to say, and left it at that, then made her way back to the bridge. Running a ship like the Johannes Kepler had its drawbacks given the numerous divisions. IESA, UNE military, Radiance personnel, a brief thought of Saressea ordering the Kepler Radiance crew into doing something Foster wouldn’t approve of haunted her until she arrived on the bridge.
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