Baldwin's Legacy: The Complete Series Read online

  “Well, this must not be joyous or luxurious, because it’s not in the Concord’s files,” Treena said.

  “Aren’t we pragmatic, Starling,” Nee said.

  Brax had the feeling the two of them had met. Nee had a habit of teasing those around him, and Brax felt comfortable with the man already. It was good to have a friend on board, one that wasn’t his sister.

  “Nothing wrong with being realistic. I’m not much of a dreamer,” Treena said as Brax led them away from their massive vessel. Constantine had twelve shuttles like this, each stuck behind a sliding wall and mounted to the exterior of the ship. They didn’t need any energy barriers, because they were each attached via their hatches, which, as Brax had told Baldwin, used the four-prong method. It wasn’t only a cheaper option, according to the Concord, but a safer one. Too many ships had lost their energy field stabilizers in battles against the Statu in Constantine Baldwin’s time as a captain. He was the one who’d suggested the change.

  Brax wondered if the legend’s grandson, Tom, was aware of this. Brax only knew himself because Reeve was obsessed with those kinds of details and was forever droning on about them. He wished she’d get another hobby.

  “Ten minutes until arrival,” he told them.

  “What’s our protocol if there are enemies on the other side?” the doctor asked.

  “Wait, have you never been on an expedition before, Nee?” Treena asked, finally taking the upper hand. Brax laughed at their interactions.

  The white-haired man stuttered. “Well… I… I’ve been on something resembling an expedition, once or twice.”

  “We have our military standard XRC-14 weapons and the smaller PL-30, as well as nerve gas, concussion grenades, and” – Brax patted his thigh – “a twenty-five-centimeter blade capable of cutting through steel. You do have weapons training, right?”

  Doctor Nee sat up straighter in his seat. “I have the mandatory number of hours required to be positioned on a Concord cruise ship,” he said, the joking tone lost from his voice.

  “Then you’ll be fine,” Treena said. “If this ship is hundreds of years old, I doubt we’ll have anything but bones to wrestle on the other side of the hatch.”

  Brax nodded his agreement and began his flyby of the long, narrow vessel. “Gathering energy readouts, but they’re minimal. It appears their life support is functional,” he said. He’d released the tiny drones earlier, and they were sending the shuttle detailed information as they received it from the target’s computer system.

  “I don’t need this blasted helmet, then?” Brax asked, knocking on it with his knuckles.

  “You may have your advanced weapons training, but did you take any courses on viruses, airborne or otherwise? Alien contagions?” Treena asked.

  “Not that you have to worry about that,” Nee said, and Brax felt lost at the comment.

  “You all keep your suits sealed up tightly. No compromises there,” Brax said, bringing the shuttle in closer to the black ship. It was at least fifty times the length of their compact vessel, the outer construction patchy from this close. It almost appeared like square sheets of metal had been welded into a hull, then painted over. The entry point was at the rear of the vessel, and Brax moved the shuttle in that direction, carefully adjusting the thrusters before spinning them to slow their arrival.

  Once in position, he flipped the viewer’s camera to show the reverse angle and backed the shuttle toward the hatch, which wasn’t universal with theirs. This was where things grew tricky.

  His sister had helped design the most current iteration of the force generator. The shuttle jerked lightly as he bumped into the alien vessel, coming to a stop. Brax deployed the magnetic field and stood from the pilot’s seat.

  The trip had been better than his last time flying himself in space. The company had helped distract him from the nothingness surrounding them. “Commander, can you assist me?”

  Treena joined him at the rear of their shuttle, and she gave him a nod. He tapped the airlock separator, and a wall fell with a thud, adding a solid barrier between them and Nee at the front half of the ship.

  When the computer console advised him that the front section was sealed properly, Brax strapped Treena to the wall using hefty cables, then strapped himself down. Treena smiled at him from behind her helmet, and he talked her through it.

  “Have you done this before?” Brax asked.

  “No. I’ve never had to board an unsanctioned vessel,” she admitted. He’d guessed as much. He’d only done it once.

  “I have to open our hatch. There will be a sharp tug on you, hence the thick lanyard attaching us to the wall. I’ll activate the force generator, which will seal us from space long enough to cross through into their ship,” he said.

  “After you open their hatch,” she said.

  “Yes. But that’s why I brought him.” Brax pointed to the corner, where Constantine’s AI image appeared.

  “I’m glad to be of assistance. I thought I’d never be allowed any fun,” the computer program said. “I’ll pass through, accessing the computer system.”

  “This’ll work?” Treena asked.

  Brax hoped so. It was either that or painstakingly prying the thick metal hatch from the hull of the old ship they were attached to.

  “We’ll find out,” he said. “Constantine, are you ready?”

  “Ready,” the AI said, flickering lightly. Brax had brought the portable AI device with them on the shuttle, and it was currently under the seat Doctor Nee occupied.

  Brax tested his communicator with the doc. “Nee, can you hear me?”

  “I can hear you, Brax. Don’t forget to retrieve me before the fun parts,” Nee said.

  “We wouldn’t dare,” Brax said, and he reached for the console, preparing to board the alien vessel.

  Five

  Getting on board the mysterious stranded ship proved simple enough, and Treena was impressed with Brax Daak’s abilities. He’d already proven himself a worthy crew member, which was more than could be said about herself.

  They emerged onto the ship, Brax taking the lead, holding his huge XRC-14 easily. Treena left hers strapped to her back, and opted for the much lighter and compact PL-30. Doctor Nee emulated her, taking his handheld weapon as well. Beside her, Constantine walked noiselessly.

  Her own boots clanged against the floor, making far too much racket. It was hard to move silently with suits on, but they were there for safety, not stealth. The corridor was dark, and they’d all flipped on their nightfeatures, rather than use lights like a beacon.

  “I’ve told you, the ship is vacant. The computer system hadn’t been activated in over six hundred standard years,” Constantine told them.

  “We don’t take chances,” Brax said.

  They walked slowly, but eventually, their small expedition group found a doorway. Brax fumbled with it, attempting to open the slab. He found a manual handle after a minute, and Treena followed closely through it, her gun raised and aimed at the right corners of the new room, while Brax found the left.

  “Empty,” Treena said. The doctor bumped into her from behind and muttered an apology.

  There was another console now, dimly lit across the room, and Constantine, the AI, turned to Treena. “I think I may be able to activate the ship’s lighting system. Would you like me to attempt it?”

  Brax was about to answer, when he must have recalled Treena was in charge, even though the captain had given him the responsibility of the mission. She wanted to play nice and didn’t care one way or the other as long as they were on the same team.

  “Brax, what do you think?” she asked, looking for guidance. It worked.

  “I think it would be much easier to search the ship if we weren’t bumping into walls. Go for it, Constantine,” he said.

  They stood in the center of the room, attempting to get the lay of the land as the AI flickered, then appeared near the console before entering the wall.

  “I’m not sure I’ll ever be use
d to that,” the doctor said.

  “None of us will,” Treena concurred.

  They waited with bated breath, Treena breathing hard beneath her helmet. It was an automatic function, one she was grateful for. If her artificial body didn’t breathe, she wasn’t sure she could handle the entire process.

  Brax lowered his weapon after another minute, and Treena clipped hers onto the hip of her suit. The lights flashed on, sending long shadows across the grated floor. She flipped off her night sight and blinked, another impulse she really didn’t need to do. The list was adding up.

  “That’s better,” the doctor said.

  Treena agreed, and attempted to make sense of the room they were inside. It was at the rear of the unfamiliar vessel, and was a cargo hold of some sort. The far wall held rows of lockers, blending so seamlessly into the surface it was impossible to tell without the real light shining on it.

  Brax moved first, stepping across the floor to reach them first. Treena was right behind him. She felt for a handle, and when she didn’t find one, she pressed on it, the locker door clicking and releasing. It opened with a squeak, and she wasn’t surprised by the contents it revealed.

  Weapons. She’d never seen guns quite like them, but their function was obvious.

  Brax hefted one in his grip, lining up a shot while keeping his fingers far from the alien trigger. “We know one thing about them.”

  “What’s that?” Nee asked.

  “They weren’t a trusting sort.” He opened more lockers, and soon they counted at least twenty of the assault weapons. There was an assortment of armor – massive, Treena thought, even for someone Brax’s size. She held a helmet in her hand and noted how angled it was, jutting wider near the mouth.

  “Not quite humanoid?” she asked, shoving it toward the doctor.

  Nee eyed it with interest. “This space could be for a multitude of reasons. Breathing apparatus or… mandibles.”

  Treena couldn’t help but picture a terrifying insectoid army, and she cleared her throat out of habit. “Let’s move,” she said, suddenly wanting to be anywhere but the weapons room.

  Brax took the lead, his gun rising again. It was much easier now that the lights were on, and she slowed, waiting for the trailing AI figure of Constantine to catch up. “Why is the life support on if the lights aren’t?”

  “I imagine the life support is powered at the most basic level of the ship’s back-up system,” Constantine said.

  “Meaning?” she asked.

  “Meaning they needed to keep it on for some purpose,” the AI said.

  “Was there anything in there that told you who they were?” she asked. She really wasn’t too sure how the AI had even opened their system. She’d have to ask Reeve about it later.

  “It’s quite foreign to me. I used a binary program to access the lighting, but that’s about the extent of my abilities,” he said.

  Brax opened the door by turning the manual lever, and he tugged it wide. They were in a corridor now, and it appeared much the same. Metal grate flooring. Basic walls with the odd blank screen embedded and a row of lighting above.

  “Don’t tell me this is the part where we split up and you send me with the immaterial computer program Constantine, please,” Doctor Nee said, a smirk on his handsome face.

  “Not yet. We wait until there’s real danger before doing that to you,” Treena told him, and his smile vanished in a flash.

  Brax started the search by clearing five rooms on the left. They found each functional for a ship’s purpose, but empty. Treena had expected some casualties, maybe. She almost wanted to find evidence of the race inside, but so far, she thought it likely they’d visited a kitchen, a washroom, and a meeting room.

  “They have to have crew quarters somewhere,” Brax said, crossing the hall to the other side.

  Treena grabbed the handle of a door and attempted to turn it. Nothing. She checked to see if Brax was paying attention, and when she noticed him looking down the corridor, she snapped it open, using the added strength of her artificial body.

  “You wanted quarters, you have them,” she told Brax. There were four cut-outs in the walls here, which had to be beds. They were black and rounded. She walked over to one and ran a glove over it, feeling the rubber-like material bend to the touch.

  “Bridge to Commander Starling. Update, please.” It was Ven’s gratingly calm voice carrying through her helmet.

  “We’ve activated the lighting and are halfway through the ship. We’ve found no evidence of survivors, but also no deceased. We’re recording all and will continue with the search. It’s clearly unknown to us,” she advised.

  “Finish the tour and return to Constantine. We’ll mark it, notify the Concord of its whereabouts, and continue our pressing mission,” Captain Baldwin told her.

  “Very well. We’ll return within the hour, sir,” she assured him. “Starling out.”

  They went faster. Treena sure there was nothing on the ship that meant them harm. She opened a closet, flipping through rows of clothing. They were all muted tones, long and flowing robes. It was difficult to tell what kind of creature would wear such a thing, or how they were utilized.

  Doctor Nee held one out over his suit and moved it around as if attempting to make sense of it. “Does this go with my helmet?” he asked.

  Brax shouldered past him, and Treena laughed at them both.

  “The bridge has to be here,” Brax said. They’d walked the length of the long, skinny ship, and there was only one place they hadn’t seen on the single-level vessel.

  He opened the door, and Treena raised her gun in a hurry. There were faces staring at them. At least a hundred.

  “My stars,” Doctor Nee said, walking forward.

  “Stand down, Doctor,” Brax ordered, but the man kept moving.

  “They’re in some sort of cryogenic pods. What harm will they do to me?” Nee asked.

  Treena took the scene in, amazed at the find. There were numerous rows of the pods, stacking above one another up to the twenty-meter ceiling. Dim yellow lights pulsed from each pod; each of the inhabitants had closed eyes, and the pods beeped softly like a heartbeat.

  They were gray, with ridged scale-like skin and thin mandibles around slotted mouths. She’d never seen anything quite like it.

  Doctor Nee turned to Treena with a huge smile spread across his face. “I think we just met our new friends.”

  ____________

  Tarlen paced by the doorway. “Come on. What are you waiting for?”

  Penter rolled his eyes, angering the boy even more. “Patience is a valuable asset, son.”

  “Stop calling me that. I only agreed to hold off my search because you had food and water, and…” Tarlen’s gaze drifted to the gun at Penter’s hip. He left it unsaid.

  “We’re going now. We’ll return this afternoon, everyone,” Penter assured the residents of the house. The old man nodded like he didn’t believe it and returned to heating up water for loose tea.

  The action was so out of the norm to Tarlen. How could they be so calm when their whole world had just been attacked? Everyone they knew, gone. He didn’t understand.

  Penter seemed to feel his energy and set a meaty hand over Tarlen’s shoulder. “We all grieve in our own ways, and in our own time. Come. Lead me to your father’s shop.”

  The light was dimming outside. Penter had made them wait until the daylight was waning, so they wouldn’t be as visible to watching eyes. Tarlen didn’t think the Statu really cared about a few living Bacals. They’d done all the damage they’d come for.

  The terrible sounds continued to emanate from the direction of the ocean, and Tarlen craned his neck to see if there was any sign of ships through the smoke and clouds. The sky was clearer by this time, the smoke thinner. He almost thought he saw lights far in the distance.

  “They came for our resources; that much is obvious. What I don’t understand is why they had to destroy us all. They could have bargained,” Penter said.
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  “If they’re Statu, do you believe they would negotiate?” Tarlen asked.

  “You’re wiser than your youth generally permits.”

  “I’m sixteen stars old. I’m no child.”

  “You look younger. My apologies, sir,” Penter said with a laugh.

  Tarlen bristled. He was wiry, but his father had told him to be patient. There was that word again. “This way,” he said, almost missing the turn. The city felt like a strange land: an unfamiliar terrain full of rubble and stones, not the home he’d been in his entire life.

  Then, as the star crested behind the horizon, making their trip all the more difficult, Tarlen beheld the shop his father had run for the last twenty years. It was intact, and he almost cried out for them but bit his tongue, aware the enemy could be lingering.

  He ran, his feet unable to stop from carrying him through the doorway. It was a stone building like the others, beige and ancient. Dust billowed as he stopped, finding the place empty.

  “Mother, Father!” he shouted desperately. Penter arrived and didn’t stop him. “Belna! Where are you?”

  No response. Tarlen searched through the room but found nothing but heartache in each corner. He found the steps that led to their home above, and his bare feet plodded over the carved stone stairs. Penter didn’t follow him, leaving him to explore his home alone.

  Tarlen was glad for it, because he didn’t want the big guard to witness his tears. He sat on his bed, head in hands, and wept, finally letting himself accept they were likely gone. Everyone was dead.

  “They’re all gone,” he whispered. He wiped away the tears, found a shoulder pack in his closet, and filled it with some of his belongings. He took two pairs of pants, a light jacket, three shirts, and sandals. He moved to his parents’ room but refused to enter. It felt wrong.

  Belna’s room was next, and he walked in slowly, clinging to memories with each object he found. He loved his sister dearly. What was he going to do without them?

  A gold box sat on a stone desk, and he fidgeted with it, opening the hinged door. There sat the ring their mother had given to her when she turned twelve stars. She was meant to give it to her partner one day. Tarlen felt the weight of it in his palm, clasping a shaking hand over it. He found a leather string inside the box and ran the length of it through the ring, tying the band together at one end. He slipped it over his head, letting the ring settle to his thin chest.