Baldwin's Legacy: The Complete Series Read online

  “Everything good?” Penter asked.

  “It will be,” she said, taking control of the platform and lifting it from the ground.

  The sun was higher now, and the Statu would be aware of the incursion sooner rather than later. They had to hurry.

  Twenty-Two

  Tom had left his impromptu meeting with Admiral Hudson feeling distraught, but also rejuvenated. They had a plan, albeit a rough one, but Tom had confidence they’d make it work. Not only did they have better weaponry and technology, they had the Concord’s finest on board this ship, and on the surface already.

  “Constantine,” Tom said as he crossed the room of his private quarters.

  The AI appeared, and Tom stood across from him, assessing the man he knew as Grandfather.

  “Yes, Captain. We’re only ten minutes from contact position. Shouldn’t you be on the bridge?” he asked calmly.

  “Remember that time I came home after my first date with that Tekol girl from the Academy, what was her name… it’s on the tip of my tongue,” Tom said, grinning like a schoolboy.

  “It was Leerp, Captain,” Constantine said.

  Tom pointed at the AI and laughed out loud. “Gotcha! I can’t believe it!”

  “I’m sorry, am I missing something?” Constantine asked.

  “Why would you remember her name if you only had my grandfather’s tactical and mission memories? He was an old man then,” Tom said, squinting at the projection as he waited for the reply.

  Constantine motioned for Tom to have a seat at the table beside his kitchenette. “I suppose there’s no point in hiding it, Tommy.”

  Tommy. Only the old man and one other person had called him that, and it used to irritate him to no end. His father had used it when he was little as a term of endearment, but when Constantine had used it, it had always felt forced and condescending.

  “How?” Tom sat, painfully aware of how little time he had for this conversation.

  “The process is complicated, and though the Concord has had the technology for decades, they’ve been holding back on it. They wanted something special here, a true flagship, and they gave me more of his personality, so that for all intents and purposes I would be Constantine Baldwin, the hero of the Yollox Incursion. They added a limiter, but they rushed the ship’s production and forgot to close a few secret doors.

  “It really was quite simple to sneak in and free the remaining memories,” Constantine said, hands clasped in front of his hips.

  “Does that mean you remember me? All of it?” Tom asked.

  “I do. I remember the day your mother was born. I was coming in from the Xoni Seven system on some diplomatic mission of little consequence when I heard Katherine was in labor.” Constantine’s voice changed, even cracked as he gazed to the far wall. He laughed. “I overdid the Star Drive. Back then, their charge was far less, more dangerous to push, but I did, and received a slap on the wrist eventually. I didn’t care. I was there the minute before Cleo arrived.”

  Tom leaned forward, finding it so hard to believe he was really talking to this man who’d died over ten years ago. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed him until this moment. “What was it like?”

  “Becoming a father?” Constantine asked, and Tom nodded. “It was exhilarating, exciting, but also more frightening than any mission I’d ever been on.”

  “Even Yollox?” Tom asked.

  “That hadn’t happened yet, but in retrospect, yes, even Yollox. Because this was my baby, and I vowed to never let anything harm her… Tom, you wonder why I was so hard on you, I can see it in your eyes. Why I was so angry, so hostile to the universe in those last years. It was because everything I fought for was taken from me. My Cleo dead at the hands of Reepa pirates… that was so random, such an unlikely scenario, and that’s what we were trained for in the Concord Academy, wasn’t it? Being prepared for unusual situations, understanding how to defend ourselves, learning from them so they don’t occur again. What’s the word they used…?”

  It was Tom’s turn to answer the questions. “Mitigate risk.”

  “Right. As if that would bring my Cleo and your father back,” Constantine’s expressions had even changed, looking more like the man he remembered so well.

  “You didn’t lose everyone. You had me.” Constantine had grown worse in the last years after his wife passed, until Tom refused to see the man.

  “I know. But you were a constant reminder of her, Tommy. Her eyes… they’re your eyes. Your hair color, the cleft in your chin, the way you smile… it was all her, and I couldn’t stand it,” Constantine said.

  The console chimed, and Ven’s voice carried over the ship’s speaker. “Captain Baldwin, we’re two minutes from contact.”

  “I have to go,” Tom said, moving for the door.

  “I’m sorry. I’m not your grandfather; I’m nothing but a computer image from memories, but… I am sorry,” Constantine said, appearing directly in front of Tom.

  “You do realize how strange this is, right? There’s a reason this is illegal,” Tom said.

  “I understand. When this is over, you can tweak my parameters to spec. I won’t hold it against you,” the AI said, and Tom opened his door, rushing for the bridge.

  He arrived, shaken by the interaction with the AI. He pressed it away and entered the bridge to see the fifth planet zoomed onto the viewer. “Have you made contact yet, Zare?”

  The Zilph’i Junior Officer peered over her shoulder, shaking her head. “We waited for you.”

  “Contact the commander,” Tom ordered, watching the screen where the cluster of Statu warships continued to move through the system. The timer countdown said they had five hours and forty-three minutes until arrival.

  “Sir, she’s not… wait, I have her.”

  Zare passed control to the captain’s chair, and Tom sat heavily. “Starling, what’s happening down there?”

  “Captain, thank the Vastness. The Statu warship is here, the one that we saw leave Greblok. The people are freed, and we have nearly a quarter of them safe.” Commander Starling was almost shouting, a loud noise clunking in the background.

  “What’s the situation? Is there conflict?” Tom asked.

  There was a pause, and her voice echoed through. “They’re spread out. I don’t think there are many true Statu here. They were probably going to make a group of slaves to fight us if we arrived, but we came too soon. They’re operating with a ghost crew.”

  “Backup is on the way,” Tom assured her, glancing to the radar again.

  “We know. We’re using an underground city to gather the Bacal, and moving toward the warship,” she said.

  “Why?”

  “We’re going to take it, sir,” she said plainly.

  Tom smiled. “Good. We’ll be there in an hour’s time. That leaves us only a couple more to gather everyone and escape through the wormhole.” He peered to the radar when an alarm rang out, and he saw half of the incoming fleet change trajectory. “Scratch that. They know we’re here and have shifted half their fleet to intercept the wormhole.”

  Ven spoke up. “Sir, they’ll arrive at the wormhole in four hours and twelve minutes. This is going to be tight.”

  Tom tried to do the math and didn’t like the results. “Starling, get as many of them as you can to that ship. We have Cecilia with us, and we’re going to drop our fighters to assist the extradition of the warship. Consider it an envoy to deal with any lingering Tubers.”

  “Cecilia? How is she there?” Treena Starling asked, the surprise evident in her voice.

  “A story for another day. Tomorrow, when we’re safely on the other side of the wormhole, and these bastards are on this end,” Tom said.

  “Sounds good to me, Captain,” she said.

  “Is Reeve with you? Do you have Brax?” Tom asked, tapping his fingers nervously on his armrest.

  “The wonder twins are stealing a Tuber as we speak,” she said.

  “A Tuber? Why?” Tom asked.
/>   “How else are they going to enter the warship?” Starling asked, and Tom shook his head.

  “We’ll be in touch.” Tom ended the call and searched the bridge for their newfound Statu friends. “Where’s Yephion, Ven?”

  The lanky Ugna man blinked a few times. “He’s waking up his people, sir. You’ll find him in the cargo bay.”

  Tom stood to leave. “Keep me posted.”

  “Sir, before you go.” Ven seemed nervous and about to say something.

  “What is it?”

  “There’s been an incident. We found a Callalay man, on the maintenance crew…”

  “What about it? I don’t have time for this, Ven.”

  “He had a detonator in his hand, and we caught him on camera on Deck Two a few days ago, placing a device on an integral Star Drive component,” Ven said.

  Tom’s heart hammered in his chest. “Is it safe?”

  “Yes, sir. The man is dead, and there will be an investigation. The device has been removed and disposed of,” Ven said.

  “I wish Brax were here. Thanks for filling me in, Ven. Proceed.” Tom left the bridge, wondering what in the Vastness had been going on in his ship over the last week.

  ____________

  Brax raced through the door, expecting to find opposition, but there was no one outside. He felt odd wearing the clunky armor of the Concord’s nemesis, but when two Statu armored soldiers walked by, unarmed, not even glancing their way, he was glad Reeve had made him don the suit.

  Reeve tilted her head, indicating they leave the Statu behind, and Brax fought the urge to end them before they caught on. She was probably right. No sense in drawing attention to themselves, especially since they were in costume.

  This area was more populated by their enemy; no Bacal slaves were nearby. The day was proving to be hot, and Brax was sweating profusely in the borrowed armor. How did the Statu deal with the heat? Maybe their exoskeletal bodies had a venting system he wasn’t aware of. Either way, he’d be happy to take this blasted suit off as soon as possible.

  They passed more soldiers, none of them carrying weapons, making Brax feel a little out of place with the crude gun clasped in his gloved grip. Reeve didn’t seem to care, and she walked faster than him. There were over ten buildings here, each as raw and ugly as the slave camps, but as they passed the last on the right, he saw the prize he’d been waiting for. Three of the Tubers were situated on the grass, thrusters off and engines dead.

  They were huge, much larger than he’d remembered. They weren’t pure cylinders from this vantage point, as they were slightly squished in the centers. One Tuber ran horizontally along the grass, the blades burnt from where the hot thrusters had settled to the field. A few of the Statu milled about, but as far as Brax could tell, none of them spoke to one another.

  It was so off-putting to see them like this. A few walked around without armor, their dark gray exoskeletons glimmering in the sunlight. One of them stopped near Reeve, and Brax felt his finger twitch, ready to attack, but it only clicked something and moved on.

  Reeve continued toward the three Tubers, and when she peered at him over her shoulder, Brax intuitively comprehended she was asking which one they should steal. Reeve had ditched her pack with Tarlen but had kept two DC-27 explosives, which she held in her left glove.

  Brax pointed at the last Tuber sitting on the right, and she nodded her understanding. She passed one of the devices to him, and he smiled in his helmet, hidden from plain sight. He was going to enjoy watching these ships explode if the Statu attacked.

  Reeve walked to the middle Tuber, and Brax took the left one, walking along the edge of the vessel to stop near the central thruster. If they blew this one out, he doubted the ship would be able to compensate. He peeked around, making sure no one watched, and placed the small but impactful explosive inside the lip of the circle. When he was positive it had latched, he headed toward their destination, Reeve coming in step with him as they approached the ship they were going to procure.

  Sweat continued to pour over Brax’s face, and he wished he could wipe it off. He blinked the stinging liquid from his eyes and surveyed the Tuber. It was whole; no outer damage ran along the one-hundred-meter-long hull. It was an ugly ship; he’d always thought so. The Statu didn’t care about aesthetics: they only wanted to procure things using the Tuber’s Movers. He estimated they could fit a few hundred slaves on board each of these ships, and no doubt these very ships had been used on Greblok a few days ago.

  Brax recalled his lesson from that day at the Academy and understood the entrance was at the front of the cylinder, which meant the opposite end held the thrusters. It also had them on the underside for advanced control, which complicated things for the pilot, especially one inexperienced with the technology.

  You can do this. He repeated the words a few times until he almost believed himself, and walked as inconspicuously as he could to the head of the vessel. He was in the middle of a Statu base. It was still hard to believe. From all his training, he’d never heard of anyone being so close to them unless they were enslaved by the enemy. As far as Brax could tell, they didn’t appear very intelligent, but what they lacked in smarts, they made up for with a lack of empathy and a willingness to do what it took to invade. It was a dangerous combination.

  Reeve waited for him near the Tuber’s flat snout, and he fumbled around, searching for a handle of some sort, when the door opened and an armored Statu emerged. He walked past them and stared into the sky. Brax followed his gaze, where two Tubers soared through the air.

  They were too late. The enemy knew what they were pulling. Brax looked at Reeve, and then at the Statu, who was walking toward the next ship, where another guard stared upward.

  It was their chance. Brax stepped through the door, Reeve slamming it shut after they both were safely on.

  “We have to hurry!” she called from inside her helmet, and Brax climbed a ladder into the cockpit.

  “Reeve, you need to clear the ship. Make sure no one is on board!” he shouted to his sister, receiving a nod.

  He stared at the cockpit controls and shook his head to clear his mind. With a quick tug, he disconnected his helmet, the heat a little less inside the ship. His sweat cooled as he peered over the controls. He had no idea where to start.

  Someone began banging on the door, and Brax took a deep breath. His instructor had sat where he was in the lesson all those years ago, and at that moment, Brax wished he had his sister’s memory. The cockpit had an arched ceiling, being at the top of the flat tube. The viewer was spread around, giving him a one-eighty view of his surroundings. The controls were a series of long switches and rubber-covered buttons. He saw his instructor in his mind’s eye, flicking the largest switch and pressing the yellow button beside it.

  Brax did so now, and the lights on the dash came to life. Another bang on the door, and a gunshot from below and deeper in the ship. Reeve could handle herself. He needed to lift this baby off the ground. To the right of the intricate and confusing dash was a control stick, and it flooded through his mind.

  His feet found the controls for the lower thrusts, and he pressed the pedal as he flicked the red switch on the side of the controller. The ship rumbled, a whine carrying through the cockpit.

  The ship beside him lifted from the ground, heading in the direction the other two had flown toward, and someone was climbing the rungs loudly behind him. Brax picked up his gun from his lap and pointed it at the figure in Statu armor.

  “It’s me!” Reeve shouted, pulling her helmet off. Her red eyes bored into him, and she brushed her dreads aside, hopping into the copilot’s seat next to him. “What can I do?” she asked.

  “Any trouble?” he countered.

  “Nothing I couldn’t take care of. Two of them were in the slave pens,” she said. “Again, what can I do?”

  “Look for weapons systems. We didn’t get into that part of it during my lesson. We only learned how the Statu flew the things,” he admitted.

>   She ran her eyes over the controls, and Brax was positive that if anyone could make sense of the odd layout, it was her. He set to his own task and held his breath. “Here goes nothing.”

  He pressed the pedal, pulling on the control stick, and the ship lurched forward, the rear of the Tuber rising higher than the front. They hovered and nearly nose-dived into the ground before he corrected. The last Tuber was lifting from the ground now, and soon all three were in the air, including Brax and Reeve, and he let out a shout of exhilaration as they soared upwards and forward, following the pack.

  “Impressive,” Reeve told him, her hands hovering over the controls. “I hope we don’t need to use these weapons, because I can’t make heads or tails… wait, this appears to be the…”

  Brax smiled as she went on about the buttons, telling him about how clear it was now. He had to focus on what he was doing, because his comprehension of what he was doing was passable at best. The control lever tugged against his hand, and he pulled harder, easing the thrusters below the ship and using the rear ones more. It was a tough balancing act, but he was slowly learning what worked and what didn’t.

  He was lagging behind the others, but he was okay with that. Then they might not notice how poor a pilot he was. Through the viewscreen, the immense warship appeared where it had landed the other day. Gone were the hovering platforms, each settled at a slave camp, and from his count, there were only a dozen or so Tubers in the entire vicinity.

  That was still too many for them to fight.

  “I think I can power them up,” Reeve said, and from the corner of his eye, he saw her reach for a blue-cased button. She pressed it, and the entire dash died, the lights bright one second, dark the next. The ship began to drop.

  “Turn it on, turn it on!” Brax shouted, his body lifting from the seat and pressing against the glass above.

  Reeve must have been strapped in, because she was able to stretch over and, with a string of angry Reepa curses, press the button on again. Brax slammed into the pilot’s seat, the wind nearly knocked out of his chest. He quickly grabbed hold of the controls, pulling the Tuber out of its fast descent toward the looming treeline.