Baldwin's Legacy: The Complete Series Read online

  This seemed to startle Doctor Nee, and Brax stepped in, joining the conversation. “It’s a little out of date. An old human greeting,” Brax assured the pale man. Ven was bald, tall and thin, and Brax stood before the man, the polar opposite of him. Brax was dark-skinned, broad where the other was narrow, and they appraised one another.

  “Then let us refrain from utilizing it, seeing how none of us are human. You must be the chief of security, Brax Daak.” It wasn’t a question.

  “That’s correct,” Brax said, almost forgetting that his collar’s color denoted his position.

  “Well met.”

  Brax had a lot of questions, but the demeanor of the Zilph’i telekinetic convinced him to let them rest for the time being. He pointed toward the room everyone had settled in. “Shall we see what all the fuss is about?”

  Ven turned on a heel and stalked away, leaving Doctor Nee shaking his head after the strange encounter. “This should be fun. After you.”

  Two

  Commander Treena Starling paced her quarters. By now, everyone was on board the ship, and they’d be walking through the corridors, gawking at the fancy gym, the five-star chef’s mess hall, and the state-of-the-art entertainment sector, but Treena was hiding out in her room.

  “You need to face them eventually,” she told herself.

  Treena lifted her arm and squinted as she held it in front of her eyes. It looked like skin. It felt like skin. She let the arm hang at her side and sighed. An unnecessary action, but she was still far too human inside to forget commonplace reactions.

  She walked over to the bathroom, for which she had no need any longer, and wished she’d asked them to dismantle it. The setting reminded her too much of what she wasn’t. She appeared as Treena Starling: her eyes were the exact same color; her hair, parted with a slight cowlick, exactly as it had been since she was a little girl. But… she was really across the room.

  Treena closed her eyes, took a breath, and turned the light off, crossing the open living space toward the bedroom. The lights remained deactivated, as she’d programmed them, and she beheld the unmoving human body lying there, gentle cloth straps lifting her off the bed surface as it did for a few hours a day. Her muscles would be massaged, ensuring there was no atrophy or bed sores. She forced herself to stare at the husk of a woman her human form had become.

  This Treena had no hair, and a glowing wire plugged into her brain from behind her skull. The electrodes passed through, sending signals to the artificial body she was currently moving around in. She was a woman in two places at once. Part of her was paralyzed on that bed; the other inside this machine, controlling it. It had been two years, and she still woke up in her new body every day with a scream of terror.

  Treena didn’t think she’d ever grow used to it, to blinking her eyes open in a robotic form. She hadn’t disconnected from this vessel since the early days. Then, the pain and confusion had been unbearable. It was too real being left alone in her real skin, unable to move, unable to even think clearly through the agony.

  As hard as this was, she had to become accustomed to it, because it was her now. She glanced at her reflection again, seeing the orange collar denoting her rank as Constantine’s commander, and she allowed herself a brief grin. Would she ever have assumed this rank without her circumstances? Treena tried not to consider it. She should be dead, by all accounts, so she wasn’t going to dwell on what-ifs.

  Treena set an artificial hand on her real body’s arm, and gently squeezed it. “We’re going to be fine,” she told herself, and saw a finger twitch. Her real face was unmoving, her eyes closed, but Treena spotted a tear escaping between her eyelids to roll down her cheek. She wiped it away as gently as a mother would, and told herself it was all right.

  Treena stood tall, brushed a hand over her uniform’s creases, and crossed the room. It was time. There was no more hiding behind closed doors. “Ship. Windows half dark,” she commanded the computer, and her windows showcasing the topiary below brightened, allowing her to see through them. Beneath her view were hundreds of officers, crew members, and ship staff of various races. Not all of them would be making the trek with Constantine, but most were.

  “Here goes nothing,” she told herself. The door sprang open as she tapped the console beside it, and she emerged from her quarters for the first time since being secreted to the ship a few days ago. She’d spent the time studying the ship’s manifest and newly-created attributes. This was the six hundred and tenth Concord cruise ship ever manufactured in an official capacity.

  It was the finest vessel ever made. She was honored to be part of this crew, even if she was here because some bureaucrat wanted to make a statement. She was determined to do her job, and do it damned well.

  Treena walked through the corridors, white-walled and bright. Each step took her farther from her body lying on that bed inside her quarters, and initially, she had thought she might be hesitant to leave her own side. Now, as she strode with purpose to the gathering in the ship’s center, she felt free, and she pushed the guilt away.

  The elevator took her to the main floor, Deck Four. She had the schematics almost memorized at this point. Decks Five to Ten overlooked this section of the ship; Decks One to Three held Engineering and any subsystems a massive vessel like this needed. Plumbing, Electrical, Maintenance, Environmental Services… all of it was located on the lower section of the ship.

  “Deck Four,” the computer advised her as the elevator stopped. She was the sole occupant, and she stepped out, emerging into the cramped open-air space.

  Treena froze in her footsteps, nearly turning around at the press of bodies around her. There were too many people here, too many wandering eyes, too many faces staring at her.

  She thought she heard someone whisper her name. “Is that Treena Starling?” someone asked.

  “It can’t be. She died,” another replied.

  Treena forced a slight smile and kept moving, heading through the ship’s gathered crew and toward the edge of the huge room, where Captain Thomas Baldwin stood with Admiral Hudson and the others. She noted the albino, Executive Lieutenant Ven, the Zilph’i trained with the Ugna. She’d never met one before and was actually excited by the prospect.

  Brax Daak stood there, eyes wide as he saw her ascending the stairs, and the room was filling with commentary, all of it seeming to be about Treena. She let it wash over her. You have to let them get used to the idea. She heard her mother’s words to her before she’d left home last week. If you’re standoffish, they’ll turn on you.

  Brax was imposing, powerful but lean. The light reflected from his bald head, and his dark green eyes bored into her as she nodded to the chief of security. He appeared to loosen up enough to smile at her.

  Chief Engineer Reeve Daak stepped away from the group and walked right up to her, wrapping Treena in an unexpected hug. “It’s so good to meet you, Treena. I’m Reeve.”

  Treena laughed, caught off guard by the sudden act of kindness. She hugged the Tekol woman in return. “Likewise,” she said quietly, and Reeve apparently remembered where she was, stepping in line with a bow of her head.

  Ven didn’t move to say anything, and that only left the captain. “Treena. Glad you made it,” he said, letting a little sarcasm out. He was the only one Treena personally knew. Baldwin had been the commander of her first posting, when she’d been a lowly junior officer in training for the Concord Academy.

  Baldwin didn’t hug her, nor did she attempt to embrace him. But she noted the compassion in his face, and she liked him even more for it. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Any of them.”

  Admiral Hudson smiled wide, motioning Treena to stand on the other side of him. “Now that we’re all here, we can begin.” His words amplified across the courtyard. Huge screens around the room revealed zoomed-in images of the legendary admiral, and the entire gathered crew cheered for a moment, until he slowly raised an arm to stop them.

  Treena studied the courtyard. It was strange t
o see greenspace onboard a vessel like this, but it created something special for the crew. There were small ponds, flowing water along the edges of the room, and mist sprayed on a timer, giving the plants much-needed humidity. Treena’s sensors could feel the heat, but she noticed how others were sweating in the cramped area. She didn’t think it would always be so warm, but with over three hundred people packed in, things were bound to be muggy.

  “Today marks a new era for the Concord as a whole. We have forty-three partners spanning hundreds of thousands of light years, and the Founders couldn’t be more pleased,” the older man said.

  Treena noted how, out of the major four Founder races, there was no Callalay member on the executive crew. That would raise a lot of questions. There was always one of each four. This crew had two Tekol, one Zilph’i, and two humans, if she could call herself a human any longer. The Zilph’i were a prestigious race, the original Founders, but for Constantine to have one of their Ugna aboard was a special marking of their partnership.

  The admiral was talking, and Treena forced herself to stop all the introspection and listen to his speech.

  “We’re working toward a bigger and better future for everyone in the Concord, and the first step is adding Greblok to our list of partners. They will be joining the Concord, and you, the crew of our new flagship Constantine, will be ushering them through the process,” Admiral Hudson said emphatically.

  This garnered more cheers, and Hudson only smiled, his eyes crinkling up at the corners. “With that being said, let’s have a word from this ship’s namesake.”

  Treena noticed Captain Baldwin motion to step forward, when a figure appeared from midair to stand at the front of the stage. Tom stopped in his tracks, and his jaw dropped enough for Treena to notice, before clamping shut again. So Tom hadn’t met his grandfather’s avatar yet. This should be interesting.

  “Greetings, crew. Many of you have met me during your tours of the ship. I am Constantine. I’m a projection of the great Constantine Baldwin, but I’m not him. I have some of his memories and thoughts embedded into me, but due to Concord restrictions, those are limited to functional and tactical sections only. If you met me during my life, I won’t remember you.” The AI image laughed, and many joined him. Treena saw that Tom didn’t.

  Tom’s jaw appeared clenched; he squinted as if he was pressing away some pain. Treena understood only too well.

  “I’ll be here, should anyone need me. I can be projected in up to twenty locations at once, and have expertise in many areas of the ship. If you’re looking to become a better Oolet player, I can help you out,” Constantine said, garnering more laughs.

  Constantine was young, thin, and wearing a black uniform: none of the gray of their modern outfits. He had no rank colors, separating him from the others. He was the spitting image of the legendary man as he’d captained his very first vessel over fifty years ago. Treena recalled how every young girl had thought he was the most handsome man ever, with those piercing blue eyes and a strong profile. There were always images of the man everywhere on the colonies: Concord propaganda, assuring the masses that the Concord was always there, protecting them.

  “Without further ado, I give you your captain. The real Constantine Baldwin’s grandson: Captain Thomas Baldwin.” The AI waved toward Tom, who gave the visage a grim smile before taking the stage. The AI flickered and vanished as Tom began to speak. He looked exactly like his grandfather at forty.

  “This has been a great honor. When I first heard the Concord was developing a brand new state-of-the-art vessel, I was excited. I never expected to get that call from the admiral, asking if I’d like to captain her. Constantine Baldwin was my grandfather, and the man was a hero of mine. I take great pride in my name, and my lineage, and I can only hope to do him proud aboard this vessel. I have faith that with your assistance and dedication, we can bring the Concord’s dreams to fruition,” Tom said, pausing to let the crowd cheer and clap. A few people sent shrieking whistles through the room, and the noise levels lowered as a full minute passed.

  “We leave in a week, so please, take this time to adapt to your regular schedules. Meet your team and get acclimated to the ship, because in a few days, we head to Greblok to welcome them into our great Concord,” Tom said with finality.

  More cheering. Treena watched Tom closely and knew the speech had been well-rehearsed. He was a man of few words at times, and he hated the attention his name carried with it. He’d forever been trying to avoid the shadow being a Baldwin brought with it, and here he was, wearing it like a cape for all to see. It had to be hard on him.

  “With that, have a fun night, and your shifts commence in the morning,” the admiral said.

  Treena Starling found herself caught up in the thrill of the new ship. It was the first time since her entire previous crew had died that she’d felt anything but sorrow.

  ____________

  “Bridge,” Baldwin said in the elevator. He was finally alone, broken free from the constant shaking of hands and introductions. He’d had a couple of drinks, which left his head swimming uneasily. He wasn’t much of a drinker, and now he remembered why. He rested a hand along the elevator wall, steadying himself as the elevator lifted. The bridge was beyond Deck Ten. It jutted out from the top of the ship, a smaller vessel raised above it, made to evacuate the executive bridge crew at a moment’s notice, should the need arise.

  He couldn’t imagine a captain abandoning his crew like that, but it was written in the Concord’s handbook. The captain was an asset. The Concord spent a lot of resources training and developing their talent, and to them, losing an asset was a liability.

  “Bridge,” the neutral voice of the computer said, and the doors to the elevator opened.

  Tom stepped inside, taking a deep breath as he closed his eyes. It was so new, so sterile. Cecilia’s bridge had decades of life in it. It had smelled like a mixture of the crew, the stress and fear of battle, the joy and exhilaration of exploration. This was something different, a clean slate.

  And it was Tom’s for the taking.

  The bridge was bright, almost too bright at the moment. The top was domed, the floor light gray and hard. The viewer was expansive, almost twice as big as his last ship’s. Two helm seats sat on the floor at the front of the space. One would be occupied by a lieutenant, who would pilot the ship. Most of this was done by the computer, but it still needed orders. The other seat would be filled by one of their executive officers.

  Reeve would spend most of her time in Engineering, but she’d also trade off up here. Tom wanted them all used to bridge shifts. Her brother would work with their fighter team and Lieutenant Basker, which at the moment was a skeleton crew. Once they were sent off on a more dangerous or longer mission, that would change.

  Tom walked to the center of the bridge, where two other seats remained empty. The captain’s chair was beautiful, dark brown and plush. He’d never sat in one, even when he’d had the bridge on Cecilia. Now he took his time, settling into the chair. It felt right.

  He pictured the bridge full of life, stars swimming through the viewer, and he waved a finger, pretending to make an order.

  “Do I need to call for a medic, sir?” a voice asked from behind him, and Tom jumped from his seat, finding the AI standing there, cross-armed.

  “I was…”

  “It’s okay. You haven’t been to the bridge yet. Are you settling in?” Constantine asked him.

  Tom returned to the chair, and the AI came to take Starling’s seat beside him. “This is too weird.”

  “What is?” Constantine asked.

  “This. You. Having a young version of my grandfather beside me on the bridge,” Tom told him.

  “I understand,” Constantine said. “If it helps, it’s strange for me too.”

  “How so?” Tom asked. The AIs weren’t supposed to have feelings or emotions. They were tactical representations only, but none had ever looked so lifelike. Tom couldn’t help himself. He stretched his hand out,
his fingers passing through the projection.

  “I’m a new type of AI, never seen before. I… I am more Constantine Baldwin than anything else,” he told Tom.

  “Do you remember… them?” Tom asked.

  The man turned to stare at him. “Them?”

  “My parents. Your daughter,” Tom said.

  The AI shook his head. “When Constantine was this age, his daughter was five years old. I don’t have his personal memories in place.”

  Tom found himself unsure how to feel about that. He almost wanted the connection to them, but knew it was for the best. “Good. I’m glad to have your expertise aboard. We’ll make a good team.”

  “Yes. I agree, Captain,” Constantine said. His eyes went wide, the pupils flashing red. “I’m getting a message. The admiral is coming to the bridge and has alerted the rest of the executive crew.”

  Tom’s blood froze. “What is it?”

  The doors opened and the admiral stepped through, tailed by Treena Starling, Ven, and the two Daaks.

  Tom stood, waiting for the news. “What’s going on, Admiral?”

  “I received word from Nolix,” the admiral said, referencing the Concord’s home base planet. It was where the Tekols hailed from, and both of them glanced nervously at one another. Tom wondered if the rumors of Tekol twins occasionally sharing emotions were accurate.

  “And?” Treena urged the older man impatiently.

  "We’ve lost communication with Greblok.” Admiral Hudson appeared exhausted, as if the day’s festivities, mixed with the urgent news, had deflated him.

  “What do you mean, lost communication? What do we know?” Tom asked.

  “Nothing. We were in touch with them about the coming week and the steps moving forward after the inauguration, and suddenly, nothing. The messages appear to go unheard. No replies,” Hudson told their secure group.

  Ven, the tall man, stood at least ten meters from the nearest computer console, yet it sprang to life. Tom saw buttons being pressed as if by a ghost, and images appeared on the previously dark viewer for all of them to see. Tom had never seen an Ugna in action before, and the telekinesis display alarmed him slightly.