Hallowed Nebula

by Eddie R. Hicks

  Foster put in a request for Penelope to scour the web and Radiance networks for clues in regard to the missing eggs and whatever cargo ship they ended up on. If they were still in one piece. Foster’s plan had been to nurse them, then return them to the dragons as a peace offering. Now, someone else in Radiance had them and might be starting up a breeding program, like the Terrans attempted to do.

  On the bridge, the crew was ready to depart, and the Rezeki’s Rage was ready for a maelstrom lift back to the Empire. Staring at the blackness of space on the view screen made Foster wonder what their next destination would be out there in the cosmos.

  “Pierce,” Foster said to him as he took the science officer station. “Did you ever get a chance to go over that star map of Omega Centauri?”

  “I did . . .” he said, and with a push of a button, a three-dimensional map of a tightly packed cluster of stars appeared. “And I don’t like it.”

  “Why’s that?”

  He waved for her to come closer. When she did, Pierce tapped random stars on the hologram, and they enlarged to show their planetary systems. The data he had wasn’t just a star map; it was a map of hundreds of systems, planets, gas giants, and moons.

  “While this is only a small region of Omega Centauri,” Pierce said. “According to this, every system has at least one habitable world.”

  Pierce sounded concerned, which was odd. A man like him should be excited to learn the discovery of unexplored habitable planets.

  “And that’s bad because?”

  “It’s impossible,” Pierce said, flicking through a dozen random systems within the star map hologram. “With so many stars clustered together in that region, there’s going to be increased levels of radiation, not to mention greater chances of planets or entire systems crashing into each other.”

  “But according to this,” Foster said, eying the floating hologram. “We traveled here and found these planets . . .” Another system appeared in the projection, a system that was mapped by the Carl Sagan. “. . . and we have no memory of it.”

  “Or the space-traveling civilizations,” Pierce said, pointing out the location of a space station of alien design and orbiting ships. “Captain, this makes searching for the Draconians homeworld . . . harder. There are an estimated ten million stars in Omega Centauri, and if this data speaks true for the other regions of it, there’re going to be at least ten million habitable planets. And only one of them is the Draconian homeworld.”

  The search for the Draconian homeworld wasn’t going to be like looking for a needle in a haystack. It was going to be like looking for a needle that fell into the Pacific Ocean.

  Pierce continued. “Ten million plus habitable worlds jammed inside that globular is impossible.”

  “You also said a habitable planet with life orbiting Sirius was impossible,” Foster said.

  “So, Cap,” Chang said, spinning on his chair to face the two. “I take it that’s our next destination after we get the Rezeki’s Rage back to the Empire now that we used the maelstrom without problems?”

  “Nope,” Foster said, shaking her head. “We’s going back home, folks.”

  Chang’s eyebrows rose, as did Pierce. “Uhh, what?”

  “Exploring Omega Centauri is gonna be one hell of a camping trip,” Foster said. “Let’s head back to Amicitia Station 14 and make sure we’s prepared for that trip.” Foster went for the bridge’s exit. “Dom, you got the bridge, I’m gonna do my thing with the vortex key.”

  Imperial Palace, West Spire

  Imperial Capital, Paryo, Uemaesce System

  August 9, 2119, 22:56 SST (Sol Standard Time)

  Empress Kroshka of the Hashmedai Empire sat cross-legged on a large soft chair. Her red-orange glowing eyes were moving about, taking in the contents written on a floating holo screen. It was the only major source of light in the temporary suite Lord Phylarlie was staying in.

  Phylarlie had read the article Kroshka was reading twice. It was a report from the recently recovered Rezeki’s Rage, stating that Hashmedai from Taxah had taken control of it and a command ship, pledging their allegiance to the Terran Legion. Maraschino had also confirmed the report and sold data one of their hackers obtained from the Johannes Kepler, regarding it.

  Kroshka pushed the holo screen away and eyed Phylarlie who sat across from her in the dark living room.

  “I had nothing to do with that,” Phylarlie said. “That was a third party operating behind my back.”

  “For months,” Kroshka said. “I was wondering what happened to the Rezeki’s Rage and what became of you when the Terrans were about to launch atomic weapons onto Taxah.”

  “I assure you, Empress, I was busy during that crisis,” Phylarlie said, then sipped her wine. “Manzo hated Peiun, and it was stated in that data leak that he felt you and Eensino’s leadership was weak. He tried to replace Peiun as captain during the Draconians first attacks, and you know that. This was him trying to get his way after being denied it for so long.”

  “I do hope you are telling the truth, Phylarlie,” Kroshka said, keeping her glowing eyes fixed on her. “Or else.”

  “Or else what? You’ll have me killed like your mother killed mine?”

  Kroshka pulled out a plasma dagger from her highly decorated handbag, placing it on the table that divided the two. “You know where this dagger came from, correct?” Phylarlie looked at the old blade and remembered an age in her life when she worked as an Imperial assassin. “Do not make me send it back to you while my hand is wrapped around its hilt.”

  Phylarlie beamed and sipped her wine. When the Empress left, she clapped her hands twice, summoning her most loyal servant from the darkness who just recently returned to Imperial space.

  “Avearan,” Phylarlie said to her. “Thank you for not revealing the truth to anyone on the Rezeki’s Rage.”

  “Maybe I should,” Avearan said drily. “I only volunteered to be a servant there to find her.”

  “And you will find her.”

  Avearan looked away, brushing a single braided hair away from her face. “Lisette is gone, you read the reports.”

  “No, she’s not. I’ll get her back or point you in the direction of someone that can.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because Kur wasn’t destroyed,” said a rough voice in English. “One of our ships survived the battle and explosion.”

  Out from the spare bedroom stepped a decorated human general from Earth. He approached Avearan offering his hand to shake. “You must be Avearan?” he asked.

  Phylarlie motioned to him. “Avearan, this is General Derek Irons of the EDF.”

  Avearan snorted. “You mean Terran Legion.”

  “Another secret I must thank you for keeping a lid on,” Phylarlie said.

  “Avearan, I assure you we will find Lisette,” Irons said. “Just keep cooperating with Phylarlie’s wishes. When the new Hashmedai Empire rises, we’ll be sure not to forget you and Lisette.”

  “Avearan, do you mind fetching us some wine? The general and I have much to talk about.”

  She left to carry out Phylarlie’s request. Phylarlie stood at the window, watching the dark skies blanket the Imperial capital and its high-rise structures with a fresh batch of snow. Irons stood with her.

  “We lost a lot of assets in the nebula,” he said.

  “As with me,” she said.

  “I’m cutting off all funding to the SOM; this operation has been an expensive and colossal failure for both of us.”

  “A wise choice,” Phylarlie said. “Is there anything left of them?”

  “Not much, and without our funding or their leaders, Whisper will dismantle it very quickly. We’ll have to find another way to topple Radiance, now more than ever.”

  “I know . . . Even if I take the throne here, Radiance will use it as an excuse to break the ceasefire.”

  “If we hadn’t taken losses at Taxah and the nebula, that wouldn’t have been that much of a problem . . . but now.” Ir
ons rubbed his face and then blew warm air into his cold hands. Humans and their inability to handle the cold, it made her smile. “Now we’re going to have to put things on hold until my new plan goes into motion.”

  “New plan?” Phylarlie said with intrigue. “Oh, please, do tell.”

  “Can you pick up local Earth news stations from here?”

  “Sometimes, provided the QEC relay isn’t lagged.”

  “Keep your eyes on it in the future.”

  “Oh, by the way,” Phylarlie said while she stepped away from the window. “What do we do with Boyd’s body?”

  “Keep it,” Irons said, keeping his gaze at the skyline. “We might need it in the future.”

  Kur

  Leaving the Hallowed Nebula, Interstellar Space

  August 10, 2119, 23:40 SST (Sol Standard Time)

  Life came back to Jainuzei’s face. He coughed violently and felt unwanted fluids within his lungs. After a minute, he coughed it up spitting it out on the floor. It was white. His body had been resting on a rectangular-shaped rest, or perhaps it was a medical bed. Or an experimentation table.

  He looked closely at the room he awoke in, recognizing its design, as with the smell, this was Kur. Next to him was Alisha, lying on an adjacent rest, she awoke to cough as well, spitting up the same white substance he did. She embraced him when she got up, her touch made the grim situation and the feeling of defeat easier to accept.

  Footsteps echoed in the distance, someone was approaching the two. It was Byikanea.

  Byikanea’s prison jumpsuit had been torn to shreds. Her breasts were exposed, and the lower half now resembled a loose-fitting loincloth. She stood ahead of the statue of the woman with wings on her back. From the position Byikanea stood, the statue’s wings had looked like they were hers.

  “Welcome back,” Byikanea said, placing her hands on her exposed hips.

  “Byikanea . . .” Jainuzei said to her. “What happened to your accent?”

  “Byikanea?” she said. “You must be referring to the woman that once had control of this body.”

  Her voice, composure, and the words she said and the way she looked at Alisha and Jainuzei. It sent a frightening tingle across his body, it was a feeling he hadn’t felt in decades.

  “You’re not Byikanea anymore, are you?” Alisha asked.

  “No, I am not.”

  “Byikanea must have been exposed to a conscious engram,” Alisha said to him. “Someone else’s mind overwrote Byikanea’s . . . someone that’s been dead for eons.”

  “Who are you, then?” Jainuzei asked.

  The woman in control of Byikanea’s body walked circles around Alisha and Jainuzei, scoping their form, from top to bottom. “I’m the one that prevented this ship’s destruction, I’m the one that brought you two back. I’m the one that will make a request of you two as payment for my mercy.”

  Tiamat, he thought. This must be her; the dragons were victorious in the end. “What sort of request?” he snorted.

  “The Nephilim you came here with has taken refuge with the dragons,” the woman said. “I will not be able to remain in control of this weak body forever. I need that Nephilim. I need loyal devotees that will serve me and carry out my orders. Bring me the Nephilim, and with it, I can rebuild your daughter’s body, you can have her back the way you last saw her. So, do we have an agreement?”

  “Jai,” Alisha said to him. “Let’s at least consider it.”

  “Very well,” he said, not like the two had a choice, their weapons and equipment were no place to be found. And whoever it was that was in control of Byikanea’s body most likely was able to use her unique psionic abilities.

  “The Draconians plan to use the Nephilim’s body to resurrect Tiamat. So, whatever it is you do, you need to act quickly.”

  Jainuzei gave her a confused glare. Tiamat’s memory engram was what he began to suspect had entered Byikanea’s mind. If it isn’t Tiamat . . . then who? “I presume you are not Tiamat then?”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Then who are you?”

  The woman kneeled on the floor, examining what looked like the charred remains of an android EVE unit. A snap of her fingers made its data crystals and CPU lift from its body via telekinesis. She grabbed the floating crystal and CPU, spun on her heel, facing Alisha and Jainuzei with a devious smirk.

  “My name is Ereshkigal.”

  Next time on Splintered Galaxy . . .

  A new frontier awaits.

  Foster, her crew, and friends venture into the mysterious globular of Omega Centauri, narrowing their search for the dragon’s homeworld. New worlds, alien civilizations, and clues to what became of them and the Abyssal Sword await the crew. But are they prepared to learn the truth on what goes on at the edge of the Milky Way?

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  About the Author

  Eddie R. Hicks is a Canadian author known as a man of many talents, and for good reason. He’s educated in media arts, journalism, and culinary arts, and now he writes dark and sexy science-fiction and fantasy novels.

  If he’s not working with skilled chefs in the restaurant industry, baking an epic red velvet cake for the hell of it, or playing video games, then he’s in front of his computer doing what he always dreamed of doing since he was a kid: storytelling.