Baldwin's Legacy: The Complete Series Read online

  Hudson’s eyes went wide. “Don’t tell me you did it.”

  “Did what?”

  “Went through the wormhole. You have no idea what the Statu are capable of,” he warned.

  “I do. Believe me. I heard about it every night at dinner, every weekend excursion, every training program at the Academy. I know what they’re capable of.”

  “Then why stick your head into their system?” Hudson asked.

  Tom needed Hudson to focus. “The wormholes. You knew about them.”

  His head sagged. “I did. We did.”

  “You let them escape in one, and they destroyed it from the inside, is that correct?” Tom stood straight-backed, his hands on his hips. The old man glared up from the bench in the cell. The bars fizzled and glowed softly.

  “We did, but honestly, Pha’n didn’t think they could ever duplicate it. She said it took far too much energy and thought she could use the wormhole they left to determine their origin,” Hudson said.

  This was news to Tom. “So you had no intention of holding up your end of the bargain?”

  “What bargain? That was a stretch. The Statu never made a real agreement with us. They never spoke with us, not once. We sent the offer, and they left without comment. No matter how many times the leadership, including your own grandfather, attempted negotiation, the Statu refused to talk. I was beginning to think they didn’t even have a way to communicate.”

  “You wanted to follow them and bring the War to them?” Tom asked.

  Hudson nodded. “That was the plan, and we began to build the fleet up again. But Pha’n failed in using the wormhole to find their home location, and ten years passed, then another decade, and we fell into complacency.”

  “And the fact that the Statu were using our own people to fight us?” Tom asked.

  “What about it? You understand how that shouldn’t have been spread around, right? When we didn’t think they were ever returning, we hid the facts away, not wanting to worry anyone. What they don’t know can’t hurt them, right?” Hudson grinned weakly.

  “Why did you react like you did when I told you about the Statu being here?” Tom asked.

  “You aren’t prepared for something of this magnitude,” Hudson said. “The ship is too new; the mission you were on was supposed to be simple. Meet and greet. Shake a few hands, then we’d come for the ore.”

  “And is the whole idea of using it for powering ships and cities a crock too?” Tom asked.

  Hudson didn’t reply.

  “Adam, you need to be honest. You’ve lost your power. Tell me.” Tom hoped it would work. Sometimes people needed to rid themselves of a burdensome secret they’d been holding close to their chests. It was cathartic.

  “We were going to use it to build our own wormholes.”

  The response wasn’t that surprising. “And do you have the technology yet?” Tom asked.

  “No, but we’re close. The power we could amplify through the ore might have worked. But now it’s lost,” Hudson said.

  Tom shook his head. “Not lost. Just misplaced. We’re going to destroy it.”

  Hudson grimaced. “It’s worth more than you can understand. With wormhole capability, the Concord would be a force no one could withstand.”

  “To rule absolute is an atrocity, to rule with care is a kingdom that will endure.” Tom watched Hudson’s expression as he quoted the Code, and saw something flickering in the man’s eyes.

  “Whatever happens, don’t let the Statu keep it. They’ll be unstoppable.”

  Tom had a lot of questions, but no time. “I won’t.”

  ____________

  Brax ran through the corridors. It felt good to be moving, and his body responded with appreciation as they traversed the tunnels. This city was unique, and Brax had never seen anything quite like it. Even the underground worlds he’d visited had been laid out more like cities than tunnels connecting villages. He wondered if the people that used to live here had faster ways of crossing through, like hovercars or something that wouldn’t require walking for kilometers at a time to get anywhere.

  “Slow down, Brax,” Reeve said from some ways behind him. He obeyed, and she caught up, her breathing heavy. “I didn’t think I was so badly out of shape. Nothing like running with you to remind me.”

  “I was always the athlete of the family, you know that,” Brax said with a grin.

  “You sure it’s a good time to be mocking me? We’re about to head into a hornet’s nest, and I don’t feel like being stung.” His sister had a way with words.

  “Stay with me, and I’ll make sure no one hurts you,” he told her, and she rolled her eyes.

  “Always so self-righteous. Are you positive the Tubers will be here?” she asked, glancing to a diagram along the wall. They were over halfway to their destination, and Brax was glad to almost be there. As of now, he suspected Starling and Penter were almost at the next work site, ready to rescue another group of Bacals.

  “I saw them from the hover platform. It looked like a central station,” Brax told her for the third time. He’d never seen his sister so rattled.

  “And you’re sure you can fly one…”

  “Will you let me worry about that? I’m going to need your skills soon enough, so focus on running the rest of the way, and keep your alien tech training at the top of your brain.” He started jogging again, Reeve sighing and following.

  They passed through the rest of the simple corridor and found an entryway at the end. Instead of heading to the side, through one of the orange labeled doors, Brax set a hand on the purple-toned door. He searched for a vibration, wondering if anyone was moving across it. When he felt nothing, he nodded to his sister.

  She moved toward a compact electrical box and pried the cover plate off. She stuck her tongue out, squinting as she shone a light on the controls.

  Brax leaned forward, realizing he hadn’t tried the easy option. The door slid open as he pulled on the handle.

  “I was about to do that,” Reeve said, flicking her light off.

  “I’m sure you were.” Brax stepped into the next room and stopped in his tracks. It was far different from the other regions they’d seen. This was a real city. Steps led them lower, into a courtyard below. The space was circular, and they shone lights over the area, seeing what appeared to be local businesses.

  “It looks like a bazaar,” Reeve said softly.

  “It does. Want to go shopping?” Brax asked, and she slapped him on the arm.

  “Who doesn’t? I wonder who lived here. Do you think this is their home world?” Reeve asked.

  He shook his head. “Where are they? If they died, it was a long time ago.”

  “The aliens on board Constantine were frozen for centuries,” Reeve advised him, and this was news.

  “Do you think they’re related?” he asked.

  “I don’t see how they can’t be. This entire mission has been extremely strange, so let’s keep adding to the pile.” Reeve walked off the last step, heading for the center of the massive bazaar. The stairs had taken them another hundred feet below the surface, and Brax lifted a hand, thinking he heard something from across the room.

  Reeve held her PL-30 in her hand, and Brax clutched the crude Statu weapon in his, ready to fire at anything that moved. His nerves were on edge as they moved through the cavernous room, his gaze darting at the long shadows their faint lights cast.

  “If the Statu lived here, I don’t like it,” Reeve said.

  “Why?”

  “Because this is too normal. This is a shopping area, a place of commerce and trade. That doesn’t sound like the enemy we fought, does it? They’re monsters, only capable of one thing: pain.” Reeve’s eyes were wide as she gazed around.

  “I agree. I don’t like this either.” Brax searched for the exit, and after walking for a good five minutes, a staircase appeared between two glass-covered storefronts. He saw what looked like dishware inside one, maybe tools in the other. The inquisitive side of him
wanted to stay here and explore, but there wasn’t time for that, not with the Statu warships coming.

  “Up here.” He led the way, climbing the steps with ease. By the time they arrived at the doorway, his thighs and calves were burning. He’d been calorie-deprived over the last week, and it was beginning to take its toll on him. “This should be it. The Tubers were above this region. We’re going to meet some resistance here. Are you ready to fight?”

  Reeve nodded, and he could tell she wasn’t going to let any enemies stand between her and a ride in a Tuber. Brax felt a slight vibration on the tall metallic door, and he touched the handle, pulling it open and stepping through on the count of three.

  The room was quiet.

  A blast hit the wall beside him, and he stayed in front of Reeve, returning fire. He heard a target scream, and he fired again, a body slumping to the ground. He shone his light on them, illuminating the dark exoskeleton of an unarmored Statu. Its mandibles continued to move slowly, and he stepped over, kicking the enemy’s gun away. He shot it in the chest, easing its suffering. He wasn’t an animal like they were.

  “One down,” Brax whispered.

  The room was unique: this one had seating and computer screens glowing dimly. He guessed the newcomers had found a way to power this station using their own technology. That meant there were more of them nearby, but only one guard in this room. They hadn’t been expecting an attack, especially from underground. He was going to use this.

  “Try this on,” Reeve said, tossing him a helmet. It was crude, roughly shaped, the visor reflective like all Statu armor suits.

  “I don’t feel like being Scrambled,” he said.

  Reeve knelt beside the suit and showed him where the injection would come from. “There has to be a way to disarm the Scrambler.” She set to work, pulling a small tool kit from her pack, and Brax sighed, resting his gun over his forearm and aiming toward the exit.

  “I think I have it,” she said, her compact tool making a snapping sound as a thin needle device fell from the inside of the suit. She tossed it to him, and Brax jumped out of the way, the Scrambler clanging to the ground.

  “I don’t want to touch that. You’ve seen what they do to people,” he said.

  Reeve stood, dusting her pants off, and grabbed a helmet. “Let’s suit up.”

  ____________

  Treena fired at the unsuspecting Statu, almost feeling remorse for how easy it was. She and Penter were in the lead, wearing the oddly-shaped armor over their heads. The visor made visibility difficult at first, but once the HUD activated, she realized it showed much more than she’d expected. The helmet had recessed cameras on it, literally giving you eyes on the back of your head. No wonder the few altercations they’d had in close combat with the Statu had been difficult to win.

  She didn’t think the Concord had any suits with power after the War, each of them draining after the Scrambler was activated. Treena wished they could have worn the whole suit, but she didn’t have time to fiddle with the needle, and she wasn’t about to risk ending up a pile of genetic slime.

  The five sleeping Statu were silenced quickly, only the last one waking before being gunned down. She took all the weapons, handing them to more of Penter’s people. Tarlen had stayed with the elderly and children, ready to move the next group of slaves further underground, ever toward the huge warship.

  Their stealthy rescue mission had turned into something so much bigger with the discovery of the underground city, and Treena had hope they wouldn’t run out of time. Either way, even if it meant her death, it was worth the risk. These people didn’t deserve this fate, and Treena was going to do whatever she could to free them.

  “I’ll head up,” Penter said, walking over a dead Statu. His voice was muffled from behind the helmet, and he moved for the steps, his actions quiet. Treena stayed close behind, her finger settled beside the trigger as he pressed through the door.

  They emerged in the stone-walled room, and Penter blasted a guard. Treena saw another and fired quickly, three fast shots disarming and killing the Statu. Two Bacals raced past her and outside, where the system’s star was beginning to peek over the horizon. The landscape had a soft glow to it, a gentle breeze rustling nearby leaves.

  She heard more gunfire, and the entire room of slaves erupted in screams and shouts. Penter had his helmet off, and he ran to the entrance. “Everyone calm down. We’re here to rescue you. Move in a line, and head for the platform,” he said.

  Treena nodded as Penter glanced at her. They’d agreed that if it was daylight, they were running out of time. They couldn’t worry about being hidden any longer. Speed was their only virtue at this point. They had ten more guns now, and Penter passed them out, asking this group who was capable of using the weapons.

  The mistreated people of Greblok filed out of their captivity, and Treena’s artificial heart ached for them. There were fewer here, and she stepped forward, seeing at least three bodies covered in meager clothing along the wall, the slaves unable to give them a proper burial. She fumed inside, wishing there were more of the Statu nearby to take vengeance on.

  As they all boarded the platform resting a quarter kilometer away, the piece of the huge warship the slaves had been working on came into view. She took solace in the fact that this section wouldn’t be fabricated, at least not by this group.

  Penter was at the edge, trying to figure out how to activate the immense transport vessel, and Treena ran to his aid. The control panel was clunky and antiquated by Concord standards, but the general concepts weren’t lost on her. She pressed a button, flipped a switch with a loud click, and the engines rumbled below them.

  “I’ll let you do the honors,” Penter said, giving her space.

  Treena checked to make sure everyone was on the platform. “Stay away from the railing,” she warned them. She had no idea how bumpy of a ride it was going to be, and she didn’t want anyone free-falling over the edge.

  Treena pulled up on the controller arm while pressing what she deemed the thrust level, and the hover transport lurched. People shouted in fear, and she pursed her lips, trying to be more cautious. The sun was already rising more, and that meant precious minutes were ticking away. Time they didn’t have to waste. There were so many more sites to free before they could gather at the warship.

  The ship lifted more smoothly, and she let out a sigh of relief as she moved the group of slaves a hundred feet in the air and toward the next site, which she could already see in the distance.

  The trip was fast, the two kilometers speeding by in less than a minute. She lowered beside the other platform, and when the guards came running, Treena hopped off, firing at them as she and Penter took their attention away from the Bacals, who were sitting ducks.

  Treena and Penter attacked with impunity, the other armed allies taking three Statu down from the other end of the platform. Treena cringed as one of their own was hit, falling to the ground, and Penter didn’t waste any time in avenging the dead woman. The Statu guard was hit with a volley of shots, each hitting the intended target.

  It was the last enemy in the area, and it fell with a thump. Other than the odd cry from the Greblok people, the morning was silent.

  “Go. Rescue the captives. Bring them here,” she urged Penter’s people, and a group ran off, armed and ready to rescue their own kind. Treena and Penter gathered as many weapons as they could find, and she smiled. “We’re starting to grow a little army, aren’t we?”

  “That we are. You’re an admirable ally, Starling,” Penter said.

  She was already moving toward the next hover platform and began going through the motions of bringing it to life; only this one didn’t fire up with ease. Penter stood guard while she attempted to start it. Eventually, it hissed and chugged before falling dead again.

  “That’s not good. We can’t carry them all,” Penter told her.

  Treena hopped off, letting go of the rusty metal railing. She was really seeing how desperate the Statu operation
was here. Their guards were hardly soldiers, their transport ships nothing more than flat squares with ancient thrusters built into the undersides. Even the railings were weathered, as if no effort or attention had gone into their upkeep. It was the opposite of the Concord procedures.

  Even the old ships like Pliatese and Cecilia, while not pretty on the inside, were well maintained. The exteriors were rough, the corridors and residences nowhere near as shiny as Constantine’s, but there was a high level of pride that went into caring for the cruise ships that the Statu would never understand. It was evident with their uniforms, their armor suits, their crude weapons. The Statu were barbarians, an advanced race only in spacefaring terms; otherwise, they were akin to angry predators, tearing at the throats of beasts, if only for the taste of blood.

  Treena hated them at that instant, not because of how different their culture was, but because of how they used their enemies to do their bidding, rather than fighting their own fights. She was going to learn their secret and find a way to use it against them.

  “Starling, did you hear me?” Penter asked, and Treena peered over at him.

  “Sure. Stay with these ones,” she ordered, pointing to the group on the first platform.

  Treena crossed the short distance quicker than any human legs could have taken her, and found two Statu moving toward the Bacal slaves with a surprising amount of stealth. Her anger still raged inside, and she reached out, pulling one of the guards close to her. She snapped the helmet loose, hearing the Scrambler inside his suit activate. Seconds later, the guard had changed from flesh and bones to ooze. She threw the helmet at the second guard as he tried to fire off a shot in her direction, and she pulled her trigger three times – two to the chest, one to the head – and he dropped.

  The Bacal stood staring toward her with wide eyes at her fast and inhuman movements. “Quit staring and move for the basement.” She led them to the guards’ barracks underground, and gave the strongest-looking Bacal woman a gun and directions on the map diagram inside the underground corridor, before returning to the first platform.