Baldwin's Legacy: The Complete Series Page 10

  “Doctor, this one is looking at me!” someone yelled from the center of the floor.

  “What do you mean, looking at you?” Nee asked, his boots clanging against the floor as he rushed to the pod. Tom jogged over, Starling and the kid right behind.

  Tom leaned over the pod, seeing the startled black eyes staring at him. “Is he awake?”

  Nee was shoving the captain to the side, trying to open the pod. “We need to move it to my medical bay!” The pod’s computer system was beeping, red lights flashing warnings Tom couldn’t read.

  “Then let’s carry it there,” Starling said, reaching for under the being’s armpit.

  Tarlen proved resourceful as he brought a four-wheeled platform cart over, and Tom and his commander settled the being on the cart while Doctor Nee fussed about the gaping alien. Its eyes were wide, fearful, and it gasped for breath. Nee pulled tubes free of its nose, which were little more than slits at the front of its face, slightly above its twitching mandibles.

  It appeared to calm as it took deep breaths, its chest rising and falling beneath a dark brown jumpsuit.

  “That’s better. I’m Doctor Nee, and you are aboard a Concord cruise ship, the Constantine. We’re going to make sure you and your friends are all right,” Nee said with practiced expertise. Tom appreciated his candor.

  The alien glanced around and attempted to lift its arm.

  “Do you speak Standard?” Tom asked as its eyes settled on him.

  It clicked an unfamiliar language. It tried to sit up, but the doctor was there, holding it down. Tom had no way to discern if it was male or female, or either. It glanced behind Tom to see the sprawling cryopods, and it clicked angrily. A hand flew up, grabbing Tom by the wrist, the grip tight enough to hurt.

  “Calm down. We’re helping!” Nee said, but it wasn’t doing any good. Treena Starling placed two fingers on the alien, prying Tom away with unexpected strength.

  Nee didn’t wait for it to try again. He pressed a Medispray sedative against the creature’s neck, and it instantly dropped hard against the cart. “So much for a breezy first contact,” he said with a casual grin. “Let’s get him to med bay where I can run some tests. See what we’re working with.”

  Tom rubbed his wrist and saw Tarlen standing aside, staring at the alien with interest. “Come on, kid. Let’s help the good doctor and find you somewhere to stay.”

  A few hours later, Tom waited for Treena Starling in his office. He was exhausted but didn’t dare attempt to sleep before touching base with Admiral Hudson. Apparently, the man was recently indisposed, and Tom hated being blown off by the Concord at a time like this. What could possibly be bigger than the Statu’s return?

  A bell chimed, and Tom tapped a button on his desk, sending the doors open. “Come in, Treena.” He pointed to the chair opposite him. “How are you holding up? Not quite what we signed up for, is it?” he asked, attempting to make conversation.

  “It kind of is… I mean, when we signed up for the Concord Academy. This trip, on the other hand, has been unexpected. Do you really believe it’s them?” she asked. She looked so young, her hair pure blonde, her face unblemished. He ran a hand over his chin, feeling the stubble coming in. He almost thought about leaving to freshen up before the call came in from the admiral, but shoved the thought to the side.

  “It has to be. I saw the Tuber with my own eyes. It used a Mover to take Brax and the Bacal. It’s them,” Tom said, wishing it wasn’t true.

  “How did this happen?” she asked.

  “How did what happen?” Admiral Hudson’s image appeared on the screen on the wall. He looked tired, matching Tom’s mood.

  “The Statu have returned, sir,” Tom told him.

  “I was hoping we’d heard wrong. Someone’s in the room with me, Tom.” The image zoomed out, revealing an old Callalay woman.

  “It’s an honor, Prime Pha’n,” Tom said.

  “This is Captain Thomas Baldwin, and his Commander Treena Starling,” the admiral said, and the leader of the Concord nodded her greeting.

  “Tell us what you saw,” she said in Standard, her voice hard and weathered.

  Tom advised them what had happened to Greblok. About the abduction of Lieutenant Commander Brax Daak, and the old ship full of unidentified beings in cryotubes. They listened without a word as he reported, and their lack of reaction said more than words could have.

  “Good, very good work. Do you think they cleaned Greblok out of the ore?” the Prime asked.

  “What…? I don’t know. The ship was massive enough to hold an extensive amount,” Tom said.

  “Then Greblok is no longer needed,” the admiral said softly, just loud enough for Tom to hear the words. His eyes crinkled as he leaned away. “Return to Nolix at once.”

  “Sir, is that all you have to say? We might have been at ground zero of a new war or the continuation of an existing one,” Tom said, feeling his temperature rising.

  “Baldwin, do you think we gave you that ship to be foolish? You return to Nolix and don’t question me again,” Hudson said. The Prime shook her head slowly, as if silently chiding Tom’s disobedience.

  He’d heard enough. “Yes, sir,” he said, ending the call.

  “What the hell was that?” Starling asked.

  “That was the Concord giving us direct orders,” Tom said.

  “We can’t leave. What about Brax? He’s out there. We can track them. Use the expedition ship to rescue him,” she said, standing up and resting her palms on his desk.

  Tom didn’t reply as he silently assessed the information. The admiral hadn’t even appeared surprised by the news. His words stung Tom’s ego. He knew there was a reason he’d been chosen as captain of their new flagship, and it had everything to do with his name, and nothing to do with his personality.

  “We’re far closer to them, sir. If we head to Nolix and wait for the Concord to send anyone after the bastards, it’ll be a month before they reach him, if they even bother,” Treena said.

  “We don’t really know each other, Treena.” Tom wished they’d had longer together as a crew. “What will the crew think if we obey our orders and leave?”

  Treena didn’t answer right away. She hesitated, waiting a good thirty seconds before saying anything. Tom waited for her to speak, not wanting to rush her. “They’ll accept the orders.”

  It wasn’t what he’d been expecting. “But will they accept me as their captain?”

  “They already have, sir. From my experience, you’re bound to upset more of our crew by disobeying direct orders, especially ones from Admiral Hudson,” she told him.

  Tom leaned away. “He is only one of ten admirals,” he said softly, as if that changed anything.

  “But he’s the oldest, the most battle-hardened. He was there…” Treena said, not having to remind him that Hudson was his grandfather’s second-in-command during the War.

  “That’s what I don’t understand. If he was there and saw the destructive capabilities of the Statu firsthand, why didn’t he react differently? Why wouldn’t the Prime want us to investigate further?”

  “Because they spent a lot of resources on this ship and likely don’t want it gallivanting off, never to be seen again,” Treena said.

  “What do you think we should do?” Tom asked, trying to read her. She was different, her expressions often hard to make sense of.

  “I… can I speak candidly, sir?” she asked.

  “Go for it.”

  “I think something strange is going on here, and frankly, I’m angry that we aren’t in the know. They gathered us together to be a show crew, having Ven included, and the twins. Baldwin’s grandson, and…” Treena stopped.

  “And you. What makes you so special, Treena?” Tom asked, not trying to offend her, but wanting to understand the scenario.

  She stared blankly at him before standing up. “There’s something you’d better look at.”

  “Do we really have time for this, Commander?” Tom was losing patience
. He needed to decide whether to belay the admiral’s orders or set course for Nolix. Then there were the cryopod passengers to consider.

  “You’re going to want to see this,” she said, and he joined her as she left his office. They didn’t talk as they moved through the ship, heading to the executive suites. His was at the other end from hers, separated by a meeting room, giving him added privacy.

  Treena’s was on the opposite corner of the deck, tucked away past Brax’s room, which for now was empty. She stopped at her door, staring him in the eyes. “I can’t believe they didn’t tell you about… my circumstance,” she said, using the console outside her room to open the door.

  It was dark inside, but Tom instantly heard the subtle sound of machines at work. A hum of energy cascaded across the floor, settling in his ears. “What is this?” he asked, looking around blindly while his eyes acclimated.

  “This is my room. And that…” She stepped through the living space and through another door, waiting for him. “Is me.”

  He saw the body on the bed and audibly gasped in shock. The woman wore a medical gown. Her face was thin, her hair half-burned off. Her eyes were closed as her face tilted toward the ceiling. Behind her head, a cable plugged into her spine. “I don’t understand.”

  “Captain Thomas Baldwin, meet the real Treena Starling,” she said, her voice cracking at the introduction.

  He didn’t reply as his heart thrummed loudly in his ears. “You almost died. I always knew that. Why didn’t I question how you looked… so perfect.” He reached out, touching the withered body’s hand on the bed. “I’ve heard of this sort of transferred cognitive function, but never so flawlessly. I thought they were years, decades from this.”

  “I guess not,” Treena said, casting her gaze aside.

  “Why didn’t they tell me?” Tom asked her.

  She shrugged. “No one informed me whether you were aware or not. I assumed that by now you would have mentioned it or stared at me more inquisitively. The doctor is the only one that has knowledge of this. And Reeve, since he couldn’t keep it to himself.”

  “May I?” he asked, stepping closer to her android body.

  She didn’t move aside, and Tom felt strange as she stuck an arm out. He touched the skin, pressed his finger into her forearm, and sighed. “What does this change?” he asked, wondering why now was the time to show him.

  “You wanted to understand why they chose me for the crew. I’m something new. Something shiny, just like you and this ship. We can’t start off as a crew by letting one of our team be abducted. We need to go after Brax Daak, sir,” she told him.

  Suddenly, the room felt too small, too stuffy, and the constant beeping of the machines was overwhelming. “And when we arrive? How do we extract him out of there?”

  Treena smiled. “Leave that to me.”

  Tom nodded, not only hoping that this decision wasn’t going to get them killed, but that it wouldn’t start a war that the Concord couldn’t afford to lose.

  ____________

  Brax woke with a start. He was blind. His hands flew before his face, jamming against something hard and damp. He groaned and turned his head away, seeing a blinking light some distance away. He wasn’t blind after all. That was a good sign. Slowly, his eyes grew accustomed to the dim light, and he listened to the sounds around him, before he could see them.

  Breathing. There was the constant sound of other people’s lungs. In and out. In and out. That would explain the moisture on the walls. The lumpy floor he was able to see began to make sense. They were bodies.

  He was beside a wall and had woken facing it. He made as little noise as possible as he sat up, not wanting to alert his captors to the fact he was awake. What is this? He tried to recall what had occurred, but struggled to.

  Brax saw Tom’s face, and remembered being on Greblok. The big local man had run to the cliff’s edge, and Brax had followed him, trying to destroy the Tuber with his XRC-14. It had been a dumb move. Sure, during the War they’d managed to take a few of the enemy vessels down from ground support, but it wasn’t common. And most of those Tubers hadn’t been equipped with Movers.

  Movers. He’d read the reports, witnessed the testimonials of what it felt like to be transported molecule by molecule by one of them, and he patted his body for reassurance. There were stories of people being moved and missing limbs afterwards. Some even lost organs. He assumed he’d know if he was lacking one of those. He’d likely be a pile on the ground, unmoving.

  Someone called out from beside him. “Keep it down,” Brax said through his teeth.

  “Who… where are we?” the woman’s voice asked, and he reached for her, placing his big palm over her face.

  “Sister, you need to be quiet. What’s the last thing you remember?” he asked, still trying to shake the fuzz from his own brain.

  “I… we were watching the Regent. They came from the skies.” She was crying now, a soft sobbing sound. “They killed so many. My husband.”

  “But they took you?” he asked quietly.

  “I guess so.”

  Brax could see more clearly, and tried to assess the situation. They were in a cargo hold of some sort; the ceiling was around ten meters high. Cool air blew from vents above, and Brax assumed the same vents could press through a toxic gas if the group was deemed dangerous.

  The room appeared to be rectangular, approximately forty meters long and thirty wide. People were scattered around the floor, most in uncomfortable positions, like they’d been dropped from a ways up while unconscious. He thought of the rag doll Reeve had had when she was a little girl. He used to torment it just to make her angry.

  Another groan from nearby, and Brax saw the thick-browed guard from Greblok rise, rubbing his eyes with dirty hands. His eyelids went wide as he spotted Brax, who gave him a wave. “Your sight will improve,” Brax told him, and he nodded wordlessly.

  Brax felt for his gun on the floor, but it was gone. “Gun?” he asked the other man, and he saw the guy check his belt and shake his head.

  “Gone.”

  “They must have walked through, picking us clean.” Brax wasn’t surprised. The Statu were a devious bunch. He’d heard rumors of them testing the Movers on larger scales during the War, but then no one had heard of the technology again for the next five decades. He was sure the Concord wanted the ability to transport matter, and was honestly surprised they hadn’t found a way to steal the concept and utilize it.

  Reeve had always been going on about it a decade ago, while she was finishing her engineering dissertation. Brax had been forced to hear all about future Concord technology concepts for a good two weeks, until she’d grown distracted with something else.

  Now he wished he’d listened closer, and part of him wished his genius sister was with him to help navigate his current scenario. He did have a tracker in him, so the ship would be aware of his location. Were the Statu aware the Concord added the nanodevice to each Academy graduate? Brax doubted it.

  Anything to have the upper hand. That’s what his old professor would say. When faced with impossible odds, choose to play a different game. It was an old Code saying from years ago, but it still rang true. He needed to figure out their game, and flip it on its head.

  Other people were coming to. They must have dosed the first batch harder than him and the guard. “What’s your name again, friend?” Brax asked the man.

  “Penter,” he said.

  “I’m Brax. We’re going to try to keep everyone calm. I think there are around two hundred of your people in this hold at the moment. We have to be in a room on their main ship, the huge beast we saw lifting from the ocean. There will be other rooms like this, filled with more people,” he told the man, who nodded along.

  “What do they want with us?” Penter asked.

  “Good question. If I were to guess, they wanted your ore, and they beat the Concord to it. They likely figured they may as well take some spoils of war with them,” Brax said.

  “M
eaning?” Penter was frowning, scanning the room uneasily.

  “Slaves. They wanted slaves.” Brax hated the sound of it, and it took a moment for him to even place himself into the same category as the rest of the captured Bacals. He was in the same boat as them, hurling through space on a terrible vessel, destined for a faraway world, likely well past the Border.

  When it all dawned on him, he noticed his hand begin to shake, his heart threatening to burst from his chest. He closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. Four counts through his nose. Pause for two. Breathe out the mouth for six beats. He repeated the process and felt control return.

  He had to be calm, for the sake of the rest of them. They were in this together. “Penter, we need to recruit some people to help the others. Let’s find anyone with medical experience.”

  Brax and Penter began the slow process of moving through the captives as they were awakening, scared and in shock. He could only hope the Constantine knew he’d been captured, and not vaporized on that cliffside.

  Ten

  Tarlen lay in his soft bed, staring up at the manufactured ceiling. It was smooth and white; lights were built into it, recessed and giving off a soft yellow ambiance. He couldn’t keep his eyes shut.

  It was the first time he’d slept anywhere but inside a stone and mud building, always either his old home or at a friend’s place. Now he was in a brand-new starship… in space. It was both exhilarating and scary at the same time, and he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at his scenario.

  “Could be worse, Tarlen,” he told himself, thinking about the people he’d witnessed being torn apart by the brutal red beams of the cylinder ship’s gunfire. He wondered if there was a chance his family had been abducted rather than killed in the slaughter of his people.

  The concept had been so foreign to Tarlen before. Greblok was an old world, instilled on value, ethics, and care for one another. The Statu had stolen that from them, destroyed his people, and for what? Metal? He hated them, and as he lay in bed, staring at this odd rounded ceiling in a bed that was too soft, in a spaceship that frightened and thrilled him, Tarlen vowed revenge.