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Legacy of the Centaur Has Been Released

I’m proud to announce that Legacy of the Centaur, the 8th book in the Reckless Faith series, has been released for the Kindle. The paperback will be available soon!

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0D7WFWL7J

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Legacy of the Centaur (RFVIII), Chapter 23

Spoiler alert: This is the work-in-progress of the 8th book in the Reckless Faith series. You may read the prologue here: https://devonai.wordpress.com/2023/10/31/reckless-faith-viii-prologue/

The Garmoniya produktovyy mahazyn was a small business on the western arm of the Crimean Peninsula, a location once visited by two sentient beings that were currently on Tartarus. Evangeline was one of them, and knew right away that the scene before her was an illusion. The building, barely standing after aerial bombardment, and abandoned some days earlier by its proprietors, had been ransacked of anything of value. It was the sight of the last stand of Eva and her partner, Kyrie Devonai, standing alone against Russian soldiers, shortly before she was spirited away to the Eagle by an ancient and inscrutable force.

Kyrie would tell her later how he survived what seemed like an impossible situation, but at the moment, he stood behind an aluminum and steel counter, the glass display shattered, holding an AK-74 rifle he’d procured off of the body of an unlucky resident. It was a moment in time of great significance to Eva, and so, it didn’t surprise her that the scenario was a convenient setting for whom she had to assume was Kheiron, the only being within hundreds of light-years who could fabricate it. Indeed, she knew that it wasn’t Kyrie at all next to her, but most likely one of the increasingly annoying aliens known as the Kira’To. Instinctively, she checked her abdomen for the gunshot wound she had sustained when this event actually happened, and again was not shocked to find it absent.

Though the shouts of the Russian troops outside filled her ears, time seemed to have been frozen. This allowed her to notice that Fuyue was there, too, looking upon the scene with confusion.

“Am I dead?” he asked.

“Your body is no longer capable of supporting life,” Kyrie replied. “But your mind remains here, with me. She Who Spoke the Gospel has provided this venue so that we may talk.”

“Have I?” asked Eva. “Last I remembered, an Alnairian marine had dropped a grenade at my feet.”

“The Alnairians were here to finalize my plan. It would have been better if you had stayed out of it.”

“Fuyue, if you haven’t figured it out yet, we’re speaking with Kheiron.”

He nodded, and stood up. “Yeah, I got that. Kira’To, what did you mean when you said my body is no longer capable of supporting life. Have I been killed?”

Kyrie-Kheiron said, “As I indicated, your mind has been preserved, and is part of the same mechanism as my own. For that reason, your continued existence will be linked with mine, until another suitable host can be found. She Who Spoke the Gospel, if you care at all for yourself or your friends, you’ll follow my instructions.”

Eva shrugged. “I’d have to be back in my body for me to do anything, regardless of what you want. Keep in mind that I’m only one person out of several; I may not be able to help you if the majority disagrees.”

“You misunderstand me. Do as I say or your lives are forfeit. Do not mistake me for Aquila or Cygnus or any of the other outcasts. I am not your ally.”

Fuyue said, “Whatever happens, Adeler, you mustn’t care about my fate.”

Eva tried to conjure a large glass of bourbon in her hand, but it didn’t work. “What do you want, Kira’To?”

Kyrie-Kheiron drew two RDG-5 grenades from his pockets, and tossed one to Eva. Again, it was a memory, though she suspected it held another meaning. He directed his attention back to the street, and spoke.

“I called the Alnairian soldiers here to destroy this place. Since they chose to die at your hand instead, you must complete this task.”

“What about the Thesprotians? What happened to them?”

“Your kind is so exhausting. Suffice it to say, they are somewhere safe. By the time the facility is in ruins, so I will be.”

“If you’re so fucking powerful, why don’t you destroy the place yourself?”

“If I could do that, the prison never would have been constructed. What I can do is flood the sub-levels with, what do you call it? Gamma radiation, that’s it. From the collider emitters. All fourteen of you would die instantly.”

“I give you my word, as one touched by your kind, that I will see to it.”

Kheiron must have believed her, because a split-second later, Eva found herself back in the corridor on Sub-Level Four. Smoke still filled the hallway, and as far as she could tell, very little time had passed since the grenade at her feet had detonated. One of the marines groaned in agony; the rest were silent. Radio transmissions echoed in her helmet, and she tried to focus on what was being said, at the same time as her HUD showed her just how badly the grenade had shredded her EVA suit. The good news, if any, was that it, and the conventional armor draped over it, had done its job and absorbed both the deadly fragments and concussive effects. Even still, she bled from a dozen superficial cuts to her extremities.

“… if we’re going to clear the prison again,” a voice was saying, “then we won’t get to you for at least fifteen minutes, over.”

Eva recognized Ray speaking next. “Negative. Recommend you either break off a fire team to clear the prison or trade places with the Antares and let them supplement your squad, over.”

“Wilco. We’ve got a team headed your way, ETA five minutes, over.”

“Roger, out.”

Eva picked her bokken up from the floor nearby, and moved toward the sound of the man in pain. Though she recognized his rank as corporal, she couldn’t be sure how badly she had injured him. Despite her inclination to end his suffering, she instead grabbed his rifle, sidearm, and grenades, and threw them into one of the adjoining rooms. Then, she dragged him by his load-bearing vest to the back stairwell. There, she met Vecky, who stepped to aside to allow her and her quarry inside.

“Are you okay?” the younger woman asked.

“I’ll live,” she replied. “I can’t say the same for this fuckin’ guy.”

“Bailey and Ferro are one level below, trying to stabilize Mister Fuyue.”

“Did you copy those transmissions just now?”

“I did. The Reckless Faith inserted an additional team of nine in response to our distress call.”

“Good. Vecky, I need you to keep a sharp eye on that corridor and secure our position until backup arrives. I’m going to check this marine for injuries; one more bargaining chip in our favor could be useful.”

Vecky leveled her carbine toward the hallway. “You’re bleeding. You should attend to your own wounds first.”

Eva nodded, but didn’t reply further. She knelt by the Alnairian, and began to carefully remove his load-bearing vest and armor. The man screamed in pain as she tried to pass his arms through the equipment.

“This would be easier if you told me where you’re hurt.”

“My left forearm and my right upper arm,” he breathed, “same as where you hit me, bitch.”

“You’re no use to me dead, asshole. If the extent of your injuries is broken bones, then quit complaining.”

Ray rounded the corner at the landing, and rushed up to join the others. “What’s going on?”

“The squad has been neutralized. I don’t know if there are more coming.”

“More of our own people are inbound. We just need to hold this position until they get here.”

“I heard. Is Fuyue dead?”

Ray nodded morosely. “Clinically, yes. If we can’t evac him to better facilities, he’ll be dead-dead. Ari is doing CPR, but it doesn’t look good.”

Eva turned to Vecky. “How long did it take me to come back?”

“Thirty seconds, give or take,” she replied.

“Bailey, I doubt there’s anything we can do for Fuyue. I had a talk with Kheiron just now; he said the Thesprotians are in a ‘safe place,” whatever that means. He also said he brought the Alnairian marines here, with the intent to have them destroy the facility. Since I interrupted their mission, he wants us to do it instead.”

“What, when?” asked Ray. “You know what, forget it. We know what the Kira’To are capable of; I suppose it’s possible the natives were transported elsewhere. I also have no problem with reducing this place to rubble, except that we don’t have enough explosives. If you’re serious, then I can ask our reinforcements to bring them.”

“I wish there was another option, but it seems Kheiron holds all the cards. Make the call. I need to sit down.”

Ray shouted down the stairwell. “Ferro, get back up here!”

Vecky continued to guard the corridor while Ray evaluated the extent of Eva’s wounds. She allowed him to do this, and didn’t object when he began to strip off her armor and suit. Ari arrived, her arms and abdomen soaked in blood. She keyed her radio, and updated their allies. When Ray was done with Eva’s clothes, he located several lacerations and applied compression bandages from his kit. Feeling woozy, she wasn’t paying attention to the voices in her ear.

“The team on its way said they have enough explosives to make a crater the size of Nebraska,” said Ari.

Ray nodded. “Good. I wish we knew what the hell was going on. By the way, there’s no way the Alnairians could have landed troops without us seeing. Eva, is it possible they got here the same way that the Thesprotians left?”

Eva grabbed a canteen and loosened the cover. “That’s the implication.”

“I hate being a step behind on shit like this,” said Vecky.

“Before our recent troubles,” began Ari, “Christie had shared a lot of data with me from the files we recovered from the labs. I haven’t had time to do my own thorough evaluation, but based on what I do know, and what we know about the latent abilities of the Kira’To, my guess is that the particle collider array is being used to facilitate the transportation of people.”

“That would make sense,” said Ray.

“Not only that,” Eva replied weakly, “but also supporting Kheiron after the loss of his physical body. He told me Fuyue is with him in spirit, although I have no idea if that’s true. Either way, he’d better have a plan to sustain the two of them if he expects us to destroy this place.”

“I don’t think we can consider Fuyue’s fate when weighted against the rest of our problems.

“That’s exactly what he said.”

A transmission could be heard over their headsets. Ray, Ari, and Vecky paused to listen to it.

“The Faith has docked,” said Ari. “Nine of our friends are headed this way.”

Eva took a long draught from her canteen. “Let’s hope they have an easier time of it.”

_____

Fifteen minutes later, John, Kyrie, Richter, and Cane arrived on Sub-Level Four, having traversed the path from the prison without further incident. The situation for those already there hadn’t changed, except that Fuyue’s passing was confirmed. His staff had been secured, and the eight of them were ready to try to fulfill Kheiron’s order. If the few members of the crew of the Antares that had arrived had any opinion of Fuyue’s death, they didn’t share it over the radio, instead focusing on their assignment to secure Inferno.

Eva had been stabilized, and continued to try to gather her strength. Kyrie had run an IV line of Ringer’s Lactate for her in an attempt to make her ambulatory. The Alnairian corporal had decided his best bet was to keep his mouth shut, though his wards had been kind enough to give him a shot of morphine for his trouble. After a few minutes, Eva was able to stand, and thus it was time for everyone to move on. In the corridor, C4 charges were placed at points that seemed to be critical, then the group moved into the old control room. John, Ray, and Cane set to work readying a pair of drones, and the latter two used their PDAs to get them in the air.

The plan was to send the Snoopys in opposite directions around the collider loop, and confirm what Kheiron had told Eva about the situation. Ari had set to work interfacing with the ancient computer system there, in an attempt to determine the minimum number of explosives that would be necessary to render the system permanently inoperable. They all hoped it would be just a few, as none of them wanted to commit to the time it would take to mine all thirty kilometers of the loop. What remained unknown was where the power for the system was coming from, or if Kheiron even needed any to sustain himself.

While the others focused on their tasks, Richter knelt down next to the Alnairian corporal. The marine’s broken limbs had been splinted, and the morphine had taken hold, so the man was comfortable, if not particularly chatty.

“Corporal, my name is Major Richter, I’m with the crew of the Reckless Faith. Though I understand that you’re bound by the rules of warfare to resist interrogation, I’d like to try to convince you that we’re not actually enemies.”

“Good fucking luck,” he said, avoiding eye contact.

“This is not the first time Alnairian marines have been deployed to Inferno. How much do you know about what happened to that squad?”

“I assume they kicked ass and then drank a lot of whiskey.”

“Unfortunately, no. Did you know Master Sergeant Scrivener?”

The corporal looked at the ceiling. “Do you have any more of that painkiller? That shit is good.”

“Any more and you’ll be joining your comrades in the afterlife. I appreciate that you don’t want talk. Instead, I’ll tell you; your president, by way of the Gray Men, betrayed your fellow marines, and sent assassins after them to ensure the existence of this place would remain a secret forever. The three survivors of that attack were saved by my friends and me, and returned to Commander Hadar and the Bidelman. If you don’t believe me, consider that no one on my team executed you after you became combat ineffective. That we’re having this conversation at all should be proof enough.”

He tried to scratch his face, and immediately regretted it. “Ow. So what? What do you want me to tell you?”

“How you got to Tartarus or, if you’re feeling particularly generous, where the Thesprotians ended up.”

“I don’t know who they are.”

“The native population of this planet.”

“You mean the inmates? I don’t know, and I don’t care.”

Richter gazed at him for a moment. He sensed that the marine was telling the truth, at least as far as what he’d volunteered. He shifted his weight from one leg to the other.

“Answer me one question, and I’ll leave you alone. How did you get here?”

“A portal.”

Though Richter pressed him several more times, the Alnairian offered nothing else. Frustrated, but not surprised, he stood up and shared what he had learned with the others. Ray and Cane were too busy piloting their drones to reply. Ari was the first one to speak next, her eyes fixed on the computer console in front of her.

“This system is still badly fragmented, but some basic sensors are still online. Within the last hour, several massive bursts of neutrinos were registered, originating at the center of the collider loop. I’m sending the data to Christie; hopefully she can make more sense of it. My own initial evaluation is that it seems to match the energy profile of each of the wormholes we’ve encountered before, as well as the signals that the CLF recorded upon Cassiopeia’s ill-fated trip to the Swan.”

“So Kheiron has transportation capabilities from here,” said John.

“Seems that way.”

“That would explain how the natives disappeared. Eva, did he give any indication of where they could have gone?”

Eva said, “I already told you, no. Based on what Malthus told me about his telepathic chat with Kheiron, and what we found in the Thesprotian settlement, I think they’re in a better place now.”

“Euphemistically?”

Eva laughed. “No, I mean I think he saved them. The most obvious place he could have sent them is the Eagle, though he could have also chosen the Swan, or even Earth.”

“If that’s the case, we should be receiving an angry and/or confused message from one of those places very soon. For what it’s worth, I hope so. That would mean we can set the charges, blow this joint, and go home.”

“Something about this whole situation still doesn’t make any sense,” said Ari. “Kheiron could have asked us to destroy the facility first, rather than send in another squad of marines. Eva, you said he threatened to kill us if we didn’t follow his commands, right?”

Eva nodded. “Right, with gamma radiation.”

John scoffed. “I’m a little offended he doesn’t trust us after everything we’ve been trying to do here.”

“It could be a trap,” said Richter.

“If that’s true, we just walked right into it,” said Kyrie.

Legacy of the Centaur (RFVIII), Chapter 22

Spoiler alert: This is the work-in-progress of the 8th book in the Reckless Faith series. You may read the prologue here: https://devonai.wordpress.com/2023/10/31/reckless-faith-viii-prologue/

The Derne Street Deli didn’t exist anymore. Christie knew that right away, despite finding herself there, embedded in a moving snapshot of a memory from what seemed like a lifetime ago. Also present was Ray, further confirming for her that the scene couldn’t be real, because the two of them had never been there together. He sat across a table from her, with the background of the rear of Boston’s capitol building visible through the window, along with blurry, indistinct impressions of pedestrians walking by in the cold October rain.

Though tears streamed down his face, he was silent, staring at her as if she would disappear if he so much as blinked. For a moment, Christie was calm, satisfied with the accompaniment of her husband, a tuna melt sandwich, an open bag of kettle chips, and a paper cup with the string of a tea bag staining the rim. Knowing the illusion couldn’t last, she nonetheless resisted the gnawing sensation in the back of her mind that insisted upon the present being known. Taking a breath of air that was as much a fabrication as the rest of the deli, she allowed her mind to be filled with the inevitable.

She gasped as she recalled the circumstances that led her there, and reflexively grabbed the edge of the table to steady herself. The truth was worse than she had feared. She focused on Ray, the man instantly perking up as their eyes met.

“I’m okay,” was all she was able to say.

Ray’s voice cracked as he spoke. “How many times do I have to think I’ve lost you?”

“It seems we sorely underestimated Mister Eckes.”

Ray offered his hand, so she took it. “I’m never leaving your side again.”

“I’m sorry. This is the life we’ve chosen for ourselves. I’ve been too lucky twice over, and faced my existence turning to black even more than that. I’m not the woman you fell in love with anymore, and it’s time you accepted that.”

The scene shifted to the orb room aboard the Percheron. The blood-soaked remains of her former self still littered the floor, though the corpses of her android and Lieutenant Mintaka, as well as their weapons and shell casings, had been removed. Once again disembodied, Christie could only see the room, Ray with his hand extended to the surface of her new vessel, and the thousands of incandescent threads that connected her to the ship and its systems. Ray looked at her, his brow furrowed.

“What? I don’t understand. Are you trying to make this easier on me?”

“Yes. I still love you, Ray. But it’s far past time for you to accept that each time I’m forced to evolve, I move further from being human. I can’t exist separate from some form of technology, and I never will again.”

“We don’t have to talk about that right now. I’m immensely relieved that I didn’t lose you completely. Jesus, Christie, just acknowledge that, please.”

“I do. I can at least give you that.”

“Thank you. When this is all over, we’ll talk again.”

“Fair enough. Now, I have to run a systems check. I see that we’re back in orbit above Tartarus… and that the Alnairians have just attempted to land. This is bad. I’m going to need something like twenty minutes to recalibrate. You can remove your hand; I’ve synched with the backup computers.”

“Our crew took heavy losses. If you do an internal scan, you’ll see for yourself. That means that unless you truly are back to one hundred percent, the Percheron is combat ineffective.”

“Holy shit, it’s worse than I thought. Damn it, Ray, you’re right. Still, even with half the crew dead, the survivors and I should be able to make the Percheron useful.”

Ray backed up towards the aft door. “Fine, then. I know you’ll give everyone a no-bullshit assessment. In the meantime, I’ll go to the bridge. Are you sure you’re okay here with this mess?”

“My mind will be a thousand other places. Yes.”

Ray nodded, and exited toward the galley. Christie focused on archived data, and reviewed everything that had happened since Eckes sent several .45-caliber slugs through her android body. Though it pained her to learn of the extent of their losses, she had to ensure that she was still in full control of the Percheron. She was able to relax her conscious mind as she ran her diagnostics, which only took a few minutes of real time. Once that was done, she looked for her android body, and found it in the cargo hold. It was only then that she noticed that the two Alnairian spies were still in there, alive and unharmed. She could deal with them later.

A thorough scan of the android revealed that it was beyond repair. She was confident that she had figured out how to replicate an android of the same quality, but the thought of trying came to her reluctantly. Though her words to Ray were true, if a bit harsh, she began to wonder if she’d be better off sticking to her orb form. Being in her android form during the attack by Eckes had proved to be disastrous, delaying by mere nanoseconds her ability to shift her consciousness to the orb, lock the doors, and evacuate the air from the room. Or if she wasn’t fast enough, to transport him off the ship. At least then, Mintaka might have been the only casualty.

Christie shifted her visual feed to the bridge. Ray was there, along with Brockway, Al-Nilam, Dana, and Kyrie. The bodies of her captain and crewmates had been removed, but bullet holes still marred several bulkheads and consoles.

“Diagnostics are complete,” she said. “Other than some cosmetic damage, and the need to reset the hydraulics on several doors, the Percheron is fine.”

“That’s a silver lining,” replied Ray.

“You should have full manual control of her systems, as usual. Can I assume that you’ve considered augmenting the crew with some folks from the other ships?”

“We have,” said Brockway. “Between myself, Doctor Sakura, Lieutenant Al-Nilam, the NASA engineers, Ray, and you, the Percheron shouldn’t need anyone else in the short term. There is a problem, however. Commander Scherer, are you still listening?”

“I am,” said John over the radio. “Christie, it’s good to hear your voice again.”

“Same,” she replied.

Brockway continued, “The Percheron has strict orders from the Secretary of Defense. In the event of the loss of thirty percent or more of her crew, we are to return to Earth at the earliest possible convenience.”

“Why is this the first I’m hearing of it?” asked John.

“Are you really that surprised? You already know that the Percheron is ultimately the property of the US government. Colonel Dietrich was ordered to follow your commands, but with a specific list of exceptions. The ship is too valuable to be lost on anything other than an existential threat to Earth, and the exceptions bear that out.”

“I would be very interested to hear the rest of that list.”

“Feel free to ask Secretary Liddell next time you see her.”

“So that’s how it’s going to be.” John sighed. “I suppose I can’t argue that the two hundred some-odd Thesprotians down there are more important than the population of Earth. I still fear that without superior force, the Alnairians are going to wipe them out.”

Ari’s voice could be heard. “Ferro here. We’ve just received an SRC transmission, encryption level 5, from a source that matches the frequency and signature of the device we gave Chason Talyn. Text only.”

“By all means, let’s hear it,” said Brockway.

“Transmission as follows. ‘Alpha Lupi is ideal planet for settlement. Zero sentient life and abundant resources. Leto is only ship present.’ End message.”

“That’s fantastic news!” replied John. “That’s only, what was it?”

“One hundred light-years. Thirty-five minutes for the Faith and Antares,” said Ari.

“And thirty-five hours for the Percheron and the Fox,” added Christie. “If Chason is telling the truth, then here is my suggestion. I know we didn’t want to cram more than fifty refugees onto each ship, but for only a day and a half, I think they can put up with being packed in like sardines.”

John said, “The problem is whether or not Chason is lying. It could be a trap; after all, Wega did try to destroy the Fox as soon as Chason was aboard. I don’t think we should commit to evacuating the Thesprotians until the Faith or the Antares can go scout out Alpha Lupi. With the effects of time dilation, that means being one ship short for the defense of Tartarus for, uh…”

“A little more than four days, round trip.”

“Right. Anything could happen during that time. So we’re back at square one.”

“What possible gain would Wega have for luring us and the refugees to a barren planet?” asked Dana. “It doesn’t make sense. And if that was her goal, she could have told us from the outset that Alpha Lupi was habitable. Instead, she tried to destroy the Fox and high-tailed it out of here. I seriously doubt Chason was in support of such an action, which is why he’s trying to help us now.”

Vecky’s voice was heard over the radio. “Captain Kitsune here. It’s possible Chason doesn’t know that Wega wanted to destroy the Fox. He wasn’t there during my send-off, and if he was isolated somewhere else on the Leto, he would have only felt an unusually rough decoupling when I forced the ships apart. Regardless, don’t forget that Vesther and Harrey warned me of Wega’s treachery. So at least part of her crew is divided against her ultimate intentions.”

“I’m tired of all this back-and-forth,” said Brockway. “We tried it your way, Scherer, and it got half of my crew killed. I just told you I’m not under your command, and now that the Percheron is my responsibility, I’m going to start telling you what our role here will be instead of asking. I’m taking her down to the surface and I’m going to select fifty volunteers to come aboard. Then we’re going to Alpha Lupi. If it’s not suitable, we’re continuing onward to Earth.”

John said, “You’d be forcing our hand.”

“Then now you know how it feels. And before you object to taking them to Earth, keep in mind that I don’t really care about the secrecy of our space program, especially with all this talk about how outside contact is inevitable. I only care about the well-being of the natives. By the way, the set of orders I do have don’t say anything about not returning home with four dozen homeless aliens.”

“The government may try to squirrel them away somewhere anyway,” said Christie. “At least we know they’ll be treated humanely. I agree that we’ve run out of options, and that we should begin evacuation. Rather than asking for fifty volunteers for the Percheron, we’ll have to ask them for fifty volunteers to stay behind, even if it means being left to the mercy of the Alnairians.”

Ari said, “The good news is that their fleet doesn’t have any orbital strike weapons. We could arm those who stay behind, and let them guard themselves against a ground incursion.”

“We could offer,” said John. “They might all be pacifists or something, I don’t know. Commander Brockway, are you sure you’re ready to begin?”

She nodded. “I’ll be first in line, Scherer.”

__________

“Maybe it was a mass suicide.”

Deep below Inferno, a small team consisting of Fuyue, Evangeline, Reveki, Ray, and Arianna in android form, stood on the platform that overlooked the cooling towers that used to serve the research facility. They had arrived at the prison forty-five minutes earlier, only to find it vacant. There was ample evidence that the Thesprotians had been there, and were taking advantage of what meager resources were available or provided for them, but not a soul was to be found. A methodical search of first the prison, and then the older complex below, revealed nothing. Though this had resulted in a considerable amount of confusion among the allies, so far none of them had any explanation of where the natives could have gone.

The situation in the subterranean chamber that the Thesprotians once called home hadn’t changed. The water level was still at its maximum, and the strong current that had swept away so many unlucky residents persisted. Fuyue had been lamenting having a strange feeling ever since they’d returned, though so far he hadn’t been able to elaborate on it. After Eva’s comment just then, he surprised the others by sitting cross-legged on the deck, and closing his eyes. He had forgone an EVA suit in favor of his usual vestments, making the pose easy.

“When in doubt, meditate,” muttered Eva.

“That’s fine,” began Vecky, “let him. The gods know I’ve been reluctant to do so myself, even when the results were positive.”

“There is one other place they could have gone,” said Ray. “The collider loop.”

“We should have brought a Snoopy,” said Eva. “That space is thirty kilometers in circumference. It would take us several hours to explore it on foot.”

“We can certainly ask the Faith to get down here and provide us with one. Let’s wait for our Sortarius here to finish his meditation.”

“I hope Malthus Brewer hasn’t met a bad end,” said Vecky. “He’s done so much for us already.”

The conversation lapsed as the rest of the team waited for Fuyue to commune with whatever forces he hoped to contact. Despite the current of the water in the room, the smell of death permeated it. It only added to their apprehension, and kept their fingers close the safety levers of their firearms; or in Eva’s case, her hand tight around the handle of her bokken. After five minutes, Fuyue opened his eyes, and spoke.

“Kheiron is still here,” he began. “His essence is contained within the capacitors of the collider array, though I have no idea how. The Kira’To continue to surprise me.”

“There must be a backup power source we haven’t found yet,” said Eva.

“Indeed. I reached out to him with my mind’s eye, but couldn’t get him to talk to me. Perhaps we’d have more luck in the control room.”

“Then let’s go.”

The team ascended one level, entered the corridor, and were met with a hail of bullets. They backpedaled into the stairwell, with only Ray having the presence of mind to return fire with two quick shots from his shotgun. Rounds caromed off of the back wall.

“What the fuck?” said Vecky, looking down at where her EVA suit had absorbed an impact.

Fuyue glanced out for a split-second. “Alnairian marines.”

“How the hell did they get by us?” asked Eva.

“No clue.”

“God damn it. Vecky, send a text message to our hosts.”

Ray said, “Pop smoke and get ready to lay down cover fire.”

“Do you have smoke grenades?”

“No, I wasn’t expecting…”

A small cylinder landed outside the doorway and rolled into the stairwell. Eva whacked it with her bokken, and everyone covered their heads. An explosion rocked the level, bringing down several ceiling tiles and a cascade of ancient dust.

“Fuyue, show these assholes who they’re up against.”

“I’d like to do that,” he replied.

He fell to his knees, and the others noticed that he had his hand over his abdomen, and blood poured through his jacket and soaked his pants. Ray accessed a pouch on his belt, and removed a dermaplast bandage.

“Get him out of here first. I’ll deal with this.”

Eva readied her bokken while Ray and Ari dragged him back down the stairs. Vecky flipped her Phalanx around and racked the charging handle on the grenade launcher.

“Are you sure you can do this?” Vecky asked.

“Soften ‘em up for me, Kitsune.”

“With pleasure.”

The Phalanx thumped as she sent a round perfectly down the center of the corridor. A moment later, the concussion shook the floor. Eva strode ahead, holding her wooden sword up. A blue glow emanated from its tip, and flowed down the length of the weapon. She felt an overwhelming sense of tranquility, and smiled to herself. Bullets continued to fill the hallway. The HUD on the visor of her helmet helpfully illustrated where the enemy was, and confirmed for her that the shots should have been shredding her, but instead seemed to simply disappear. In shock at what they were seeing, the Alnairians kept on firing even when she drew within striking distance of the first man.

She swung her bokken in a wide arc, first knocking the muzzle of his rifle away, then reversed the strike and caught the man in the side of his neck. A sick crunch could be heard as the swing forced him down. In the same fashion, she walked effortlessly among their ranks, dealing blunt force trauma to seven of them before silence returned to the corridor. It was within that moment of calm that she heard a metallic clank, and a burst of pure white light turned her entire world into pain.

Legacy of the Centaur (RFVIII), Chapter 21

Spoiler alert: This is the work-in-progress of the 8th book in the Reckless Faith series. You may read the prologue here: https://devonai.wordpress.com/2023/10/31/reckless-faith-viii-prologue/

Time had run out for the crews of the Reckless Faith and the Fox. Though the report from the Antares had made all of them feel as if their hearts had been ripped from their chests, the situation above Tartarus demanded their immediate attention. After the abrupt departure of the Percheron, the Alnairian fleet had become unresponsive, despite their initial assertion that they were open to negotiation. Instead, one of the heavy cruisers in orbit had just released a smaller craft that was for certain a dropship, the latter of which headed toward the planet’s inhospitable atmosphere. Moments earlier, Ari had swooned in her chair, almost falling out of it, before waving off any attempt at help. Whatever was going on with her would have to wait.

“Fox, target the dropship and destroy it,” began John. “Zukova, begin an attack run on its host, nice and slow, full volley.”

Vecky’s voice could be heard over the radio. “Copy that.”

Those present on the bridge of the Faith quickly lost sight of the dropship as Milly began her approach toward the larger vessel. She set her velocity to three hundred kilometers per hour relative to their target, and enthusiastically squeezed the trigger on her flight stick as soon as the Faith was in range. The deck shook as a combination of 30mm shells and superheated copper plasma shot ahead, raking the cruiser in a devastating broadside.

“Dropship destroyed,” said Vecky.

“Give our target a salvo of slugs,” replied John. “Aim for their propulsion.”

“Coming about… eat shit!”

Those on the Faith rightly assumed that Vecky wasn’t talking to them, and Milly wheeled the ship around to reestablish a visual on the cruiser. A barely-noticeable debris field had formed around it, but more evidently, it had lost attitude control, yawing sharply until its bow was pointed directly at Tartarus. John glanced at Ari, expecting a status report, but she had her head in her hands.

“What do you see, Dana?” he asked.

“The cruiser is dead in the water,” Dana replied. “Based on its current trajectory, it will pass the Kármán line in less than a minute.”

“Sucks for them. Ari, are you with us?”

Ari shook her head. “I’m sorry. A massive data dump has been initiated from the Percheron. It’s more than nine hundred exabytes of information. I don’t even know where to start. All I can do for now is designate a partition within our orb and store it.”

“What the hell is an exabyte?”

“A million terabytes. Oh god, I think it’s Christie.”

“Do your best, we’ve got this. Dana, how is the rest of the fleet responding?”

“They’re firing on the Fox.”

“Captain Kitsune here,” said Vecky. “Don’t worry; I’m taking the Fox outside of the range of their weapons.”

“The cruiser’s orbit has failed. They’re heading in with a high angle of attack.”

“They’re likely fucked,” said Kyrie.

“Devonai is right. Based on our scans, there’s no way their hull can withstand the friction.”

“Fuck ‘em,” John grunted.

“The Percheron and the Antares have returned.”

“Send an acknowledgment to them. Dana, in case that visual display wasn’t enough, I want you to tell Alnair that Tartarus is now under our guardianship, and any further attempt to land will be met with the same level of force.”

“I’ll send it,” Dana said. “The Fox is out of range; none of the fleet has broken off to pursue her.”

“Good. Let’s hope they either respect the standoff, or decide to talk. Ari, how much time do you need to interpret the info they sent?”

Ari shrugged. “Hours? Days? Based on our own orb’s OS, this appears to be an entire system’s worth of data. You might as well be asking me to review my own quantum matrix, bit by bit.”

Another voice could be heard through the intercom. “Sortarius Leonid here. The Antares has received the same information. Ferro, if we work together, we might make faster progress.”

“Then by all means,” said John, “Faen, do us a favor. Contact the Percheron, and let them know I want to dock so we can assist with recovery operations.”

“No problem.”

“Great. Stand by for further updates. Reckless Faith out. Dana, Kyrie, Milly, let’s go to the conference room.”

John, along with those mentioned, exited the bridge via the port-side door, and all of them took a seat around the oval table at the center of the room. They settled into their chairs heavily, the enormity of the situation at last overcoming them. John had anticipated the buildup of stress among his crew, and only regretted that Ari was too busy to join them. Despite their palpable grief, he was sure no one felt worse than Ray. And yet, of all they’d lost that day, Ray was the most likely to see some sort of salvation, the fact of which gave John a glimmer of hope.

Dana must have sensed his thoughts, and spoke first. “The data transfer is most likely the failsafe protocol we programmed into the orbs. In the event of the loss of one of our quantum matrices, if an android host is unavailable, the nearest ship will receive a backup copy. If true, the next step is for Ari to replicate a new orb, and immediately transfer the data to it.”

John nodded. “I’m aware, which is why I’m not completely distraught. Still, I know we all had friends on the Percheron. It’s beyond hope that the data contains anyone other than Christie, so if any of you have that thought in your heads, it’s best to accept the truth.”

“Not to be callous,” began Kyrie, “but the crew of the Percheron knew what they were getting into. Hell, half of the original crew resigned after the events of our last mission, and their replacements were allegedly screened by NASA better than their predecessors. Of the four of us, did any of us really have a deep friendship with those we’ve lost today?”

“That’s why I’ve asked you here. In this moment of respite, before the next action, I want to make sure none of you are crippled in grief. Which is fine, if you are.”

John’s awkwardness was apparent to everyone else, though as the group looked at each other, it became evident that it was unwarranted. Dana rolled her chair over to his, and put her hand on her arm.

“Ever since that day on Residere Alpha, when I was left alone with Byron, my path has been clear. Every single one of my attachments is ephemeral, and if I couldn’t accept that, I wouldn’t be here right now.”

“I’ll be honest,” began Milly, “that sort of fatalism isn’t something I’ve encountered, outside of what the mission records tell me. Perhaps I’m privileged in my role here on the Faith.”

John said, “So then, were you friends with Dietrich or any of the others beyond what I already know?”

Milly was crestfallen. “Yes. Agena and Haverbrook’s deaths hit me the hardest. I personally trained them on the particulars of starship flight characteristics, and in the case of Agena, she and I were instrumental in the development of the F-40. I’m not ‘crippled,’ as you suggested, but yeah, it sucks.”

“Of course, I should have thought about the Warhawk program. I suppose that begs the question of whether or not you want to transfer to the Percheron to pilot theirs.”

“That’s wildly optimistic,” interjected Dana. “Think about it. We all know the government and NASA were reluctant to send the Percheron on this mission. With such a disaster to consider, there’s no way they’ll allow it to accompany us again, not with the fate of Earth in the balance.”

John nodded slowly. “You’re right. We’ve likely expended all of our goodwill with our patrons. We could appropriate the Tondelayo; it’ll fit in our cargo bay, but that’s not something we can worry about right now. We’ve likely declared total war with the Alnairians, whether that was our intention or not.”

“No doubt,” began Kyrie, “but unless we’re willing to slaughter them wholesale, the standoff remains. I’d caution everyone not to forget about the involvement of the Tenchiik. If Alnair had the connections to hire them, they can likely call on conventional mercenaries like the Black Talon.”

“Excellent point. A half-dozen Rakhar ships would be a real threat to our little squadron. Now that you mention it, they may have already called for outside help. Whatever we’re going to do, we need to do it quickly.”

Ari’s voice broke into the conversation. “Hey, you guys need to get back up here, pronto.”

Without further prompting, John and his friends got up and returned to the bridge. Ari was seated at a console, her fingers flying across the keyboard.

“What’s up?” asked John.

“The transfer is almost complete,” she replied, her eyes fixed forward, “and like an idiot I didn’t think to establish a partition first. If it is Christie within all this code, I don’t know what would happen if we allowed the raw data to get dumped into the quantum matrix. It could have dire results for me, personally.”

“You mean you and Christie becoming one? Or her overwriting you?”

“Either. Obviously I’m not too keen on being deleted, or having all of her memories, though I suppose the latter is preferable to losing her entirely.”

“It would be uncomfortable for Ray and I, to say the least. Why not replicate a new orb right now and give her somewhere to go?”

“Shut up and let me work.”

John shrugged, and sat down next to her. “Sorry, you’re the chatty one.”

A few seconds later, Ari leaned back in her chair and sighed in relief. “Fucking hell, that was close. The partition was successful. In terms you can understand, all that data has been placed in a mirror image of opposing quarks; which, by the way, has never been attempted before.”

“Oh yeah, that totally clears it up,” said Kyrie.

“We’ll be sure to alert the Nobel committee when we get home,” said John. “Initiate replication of a new orb whenever you’re ready.”

Ari nodded. “Here we go. I’ll put it in the Zero-G room.”

“That makes sense. Dana, Kyrie, you’re with me. Zukova, take the helm.”

John stood up, and he and the two he requested followed him through the port-side door and into the central corridor. By the time they got to the Zero-G room, another orb was already waiting for them. Dana again grabbed John’s arm, this time in anticipation. John rested his hand on her shoulder, understanding her intention.

“Fingers crossed,” said Kyrie.

Ari’s voice filled their ears. “The viability of the orb has been confirmed. I’m sending the partitioned data to it. Don’t get your hopes up.”

“Too late,” said Dana.

__________

On an idyllic alabaster beach, under a turquoise sky, Chason Talyn stood with his new best friend, a humanoid woman named Vester. She was fishing, an effort that seemed futile considering the shallow water at their feet, but Chason didn’t know enough about the fauna on Alpha Lupi to suggest otherwise. Though the reunion with his sister had gone well enough, he was well aware of what she had told the Terrans and their allies about this planet, and the discrepancy gnawed at him. He’d only had the better part of a day to get to know Vesther, but all of his interactions with her seemed to indicate that she could be trusted.

Vesther pulled the running end of her line from the water, and considered the disgusting lump of flesh she was using as bait. Chason’s stomach turned at the smell, though he couldn’t say it wasn’t sufficient for its intended purpose. Still, anything that would be attracted by it wasn’t something he would take pleasure in eating. With no other choices available, she cast her line back into the surf, and tugged unenthusiastically on the rod. Behind them, the sun was setting against a backdrop of fluffy clouds, illuminating them with hues of pink and orange.

“I was hoping to catch something other than the crustaceans and birds we’ve been supplementing our diet with,” she said. “Now I’m not sure this is going to work.”

“If such a thing is so important to you,” replied Chason, “you could always take the Leto to a more temperate region for hunting.”

“It’s more of a morale thing than an imperative.”

Having reached the limit of his patience, but nonetheless aware of the sensitivity of the subject, Chason chose his next words carefully.

“It’s rare to have an entire habitable planet with no intelligent indigenous life.”

She wiggled her rod. “As far as we know.”

“One could settle hundreds of people on the opposite hemisphere without ever impacting it as a refuge.”

She wiped a bead of sweat from her brow. “I take it you’re not happy with our captain’s decision to keep this place a secret.”

He sat down in the sand. “You’ve heard my story. All those years as a prisoner have made me sympathetic to the Thesprotian’s struggles. So much effort was made to secure my own freedom, and yet I can’t comprehend Wega’s lack of compassion to those left behind.”

“You don’t know the full truth, Chason. If you keep pushing, you may find answers you don’t like. Even blood relations have their limits of fidelity.”

“I’ll be honest with you, Vesther. I’m not happy to find out that Wega’s profession is so, uh… fluid.”

She threw her entire rod into the surf, and wiped her hands on her pants. “In that case, I suggest a different tact entirely. Ask to take your leave, if you’re so conflicted. Just know that it’s unlikely that Captain Talyn will agree to take you back to Alnair, for obvious reasons. So either way, you won’t be able to help the Thesprotians.”

He nodded. “You’re probably right. I shouldn’t be so quick to overlook everything that she’s done for me. On a totally unrelated note, you said earlier that you’d be willing to help familiarize me with the Leto’s systems. If I’m to be a fully-functional member of her crew, I’m going to need some help navigating them. I’ve never been aboard a Res-ZorCon ship before.”

“I did say that. I’m also sure you’ve noticed that you’re locked out of all higher command functions. Anything beyond adjusting the temperature in your cabin is going to be dependent on Captain Talyn’s permission. Look, Chason, I’ve been friendly with you since you got here. Flirtatious, even. But I’d caution you not to test my allegiances.”

“Perish the thought.”

Chason stood up, and walked back toward the Leto. Some time earlier, the other members of the crew had started a party nearby, and continued their revelry among billowing white tents. He hadn’t felt like joining them before, and felt even less inclined now. His thoughts again returned to a gift he had been given by the crew of the Reckless Faith, an object that he had brought aboard concealed inside a large box of rations. Though he fully expected Wega or someone else to discover it during his transfer, no one had questioned it.

The box contained a SRC transceiver, initially offered as something to be used by the Leto, but he had a feeling it might benefit him to keep it a secret as long as possible. The device had its own power supply, and while he was sorely tempted to use it, he didn’t know enough about its encryption abilities nor the types of signals it could generate to do so without being detected. As he passed by the celebration, he could see that Wega and Harrey were present, both either drunk or working on it. Though the tents prevented him from seeing anyone else, it sounded like most, if not all, of the crew were there, not counting Vesther, of course. With a rush of adrenaline, he realized that now would be a great time to try to contact the Faith. The only other choices, best he could figure, were to either confront Wega or shut up and let come what may.

Chason boarded the Leto and made his way to his quarters. The small interior room was barely larger than the cell that he had called home for so long, but it least he had privacy, and the bed was more comfortable. The box of rations hadn’t moved since he’d plopped it in a corner, and remained sealed with a strip of brown tape just as John had given it to him. He pulled out a small folding knife and opened the container. He wasn’t surprised to find several actual ration packs on top, and moved aside the unfamiliar Terran food to reveal the transceiver. A non-descript black metal cube, half a meter on a side, it was extremely heavy, so either Harrey was stronger than he looked or the man hadn’t noticed anything unusual when he helped Chason carry it aboard.

He already knew how to interface with it via his PDA, so he was able to leave the device in place while he accessed it. Unfortunately for him, what he hadn’t done yet was confirm that his PDA was able to translate all of its functions into a language he could read. Indeed, the translation that was offered seemed imperfect, only adding to his anxiety about attempting a clandestine transmission. He took a deep breath and reminded himself that the party outside would probably continue well after dark. Time was on his side.

Legacy of the Centaur (RFVIII), Chapter 20

Spoiler alert: This is the work-in-progress of the 8th book in the Reckless Faith series. You may read the prologue here: https://devonai.wordpress.com/2023/10/31/reckless-faith-viii-prologue/

“Are you sure it was a duress signal?”

On the bridge of the Antares, her crew listened in to the urgent conversation occurring between John and Vecky. The Percheron, without any warning, had just dropped its invisibility shield, broken orbit from Tartarus, and accelerated away at 0.9 c. Though the crews of the other ships had noticed immediately, attempts to contact the Percheron had been unsuccessful. Vecky had shared with them the odd communication she’d received from Cynthia, hence John’s question.

Also present on the Antares were Evangeline and Richter. The former had come over with the intention of having a private conversation with Fuyue, while the latter had followed her for a reason he didn’t specify. There had been no time for any of them to socialize before everyone realized they had a big problem. Lesath was in the command chair, while Fuchner manned the flight controls. Sargas, Fuyue, and Faen sat at their stations, monitoring the ship’s systems.

“Why else would she mention Arture, as a joke?” replied Vecky. “I know none of us are above a little dark humor but that would’ve been in particularly poor taste.”

“No, I agree. Unfortunately that means that Mister Eckes and his people have somehow managed to commandeer the Percheron. They’re most likely headed to Alnair. Captain Lesath, are you still listening?”

“I am,” she replied. “I’m guessing you want the Antares to go.”

“Yes. They still don’t know about your ship. Will you go?”

“Affirmative, except what do you want us to do if they try to land on Alnair?”

Ari’s voice could be heard over the connection. “Ferro here. Can you keep a secret?”

“We would be honor-bound as Sortarii to keep your secrets, Terran.”

“Okey dokey, then. There’s a code you can transmit to the Percheron to override its systems and establish remote control. It’s a remnant of an Umberian failsafe feature that was part of our original orb’s programming. Only Tolliver knows about it, not Dietrich and not even our own government. If word of this gets back to them, it will damage our trust with them. That’s why I need your word before I give it to you.”

“As I said, our word is our bond. The clock’s ticking, people; if you want us to do this we need to leave now.”

“Send her the code, Ari,” said John, “and get after them, Captain Lesath. As for the Faith and the Fox, we can only hope the Alnairians aren’t emboldened to attack us now that we’re only two ships. If so, we’ll have no choice but to teach them a harsh lesson.”

“Transmission received from the Faith,” said Faen.

“We’ll keep you updated,” said Lesath. “Watch your six. Antares out. Fuchner, get us to Alnair.”

Aye, Ma’am,” he said.

In FTL, it only took a few seconds for the Antares to cross the distance between the two planets. The green and blue world was a welcome relief from seeing the barren surface of Tartarus, even if the situation was dire. Sargas and Faen began scanning the moment they arrived.

“If the Reckless Faith had that failsafe feature,” began Eva, “then it’s possible the Antares has it, too.”

Lesath nodded. “Trust me, I’ll have Faen look into it as soon as we get the chance. The crew of the Faith may not be the only ones who know about it.”

“Got it,” said Faen. “The Percheron is in a low orbit; the flight path seems to be stable. If whoever is flying her intends to land, they haven’t started their entry approach yet. There’s also an Alnairian heavy cruiser nearby that appears to be on an intercept path.”

“All right. Let’s give them one last chance to reply. Send a query, text only, encryption level five.”

“Aye, Ma’am.”

As the seconds ticked by, the cruiser, a long, boxy ship bristling with weapon turrets, continued to draw closer to the smaller Percheron. It became obvious to those watching that the cruiser was preparing to dock.

Lesath sighed. “Okay. Send the code. I’m not sure what kind of connection we’re supposed to be able to establish, but I guess if it works then we’ll find out.”

Faen sat back in her chair and closed her eyes. “We’re receiving an unencrypted data stream, in an Umberian code, but the bitrate is extremely low. So far, it’s coming in at sixty-four bps.  Unless it speeds up, it’s going to take a while for any useful information to be transmitted to us. If you don’t mind, I’ll concentrate on that for now.”

“Fine, but we’re out of time if we want to prevent the ships from docking with each other. Sargas, open a wide-band frequency and prepare to transmit.”

“Done,” he replied.

“Alnairian cruiser, this is the independent vessel Antares. The ship you’re approaching is under our protection and care. Break off your rendezvous or we will fire on you, over.”

Again, the crew and their guests waited impatiently for a reply. When the two ships were so close that there was no longer a visible gap between them, Lesath spoke.

“Give ‘em a volley of hot plasma across their bow, let’s see if that makes them more talkative.”

“With pleasure,” said Fuchner.

The deck vibrated as a swath of brilliant blue energy streaked between their bow and that of the cruiser. There was no response.

Eva said, “They probably know that they’re too close to the Percheron for us to risk destroying them.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” said Lesath. “Leonid, anything?”

“Literally just the words ‘initializing transfer’ have come through so far,” Faen replied. “Considering all other contact attempts have failed, it’s progress.”

Lesath watched the scene unfold with frustration. “Suggestions?”

“We’re still invisible to them,” said Richter. “We should attempt to dock on the Percheron’s starboard side. I have the override codes to open the airlock from the outside, which regardless of Faen’s efforts, should work right away if we’re in physical contact with a panel.”

“I love that idea,” said Fuyue.

“Hell yes,” added Eva.

Lesath nodded. “In my past life, I would have balked at the prospect of close-quarters combat on a ship. Since my induction into the Sortarii, however, we have a huge advantage. Fuchner, do as Richter says, as quick as you can.”

“The Alnairian cruiser has docked with the Percheron,” said Sargas.

“Then there’s no time to lose. Miss Adeler, can I assume that you and your Sortarii relic are coming along?”

Eva gestured toward the staff at her side. “Wild horses couldn’t drag me away.”

“Fuchner, Leonid, I apologize but you’re most needed here. Everyone else, fall in on me. We’re going to the port airlock.”

The pair from the Reckless Faith already had everything they needed for both weapons and supplies, but the selected crewmembers from the Antares had to stop by its armory to pick up their preferred items, as well as some medical kits. Despite what Fuyue had said about their status within the ranks of the Sortarii, only he and Eva had their staffs as their primary weapons. Richter had to assume that whatever means were required for the remainder to imbue a wooden implement with such power had not yet been available to them. As far as he was concerned, bullets, superheated plasma, or a sharp blade would be just as useful for the task at hand. The Alnairians, after all, were primitive compared to previous foes.

Once they were done in the armory, the group passed through the main cargo bay on their way to the port-side airlock.

Faen’s voice could be heard over the intercom. “We’re snug against the Percheron. The lock has been verified and purged. Good luck.”

The group entered the inner airlock, and Lesath confirmed that information via a wall-mounted monitor. The outer doors opened, revealing a metal surface that covered over with frost as soon as they laid eyes on it. A thin layer of fog spread out over the deck before quickly dissipating. Richter pried open an access panel on the hull of the Percheron, revealing a port of a particular shape. He already had the corresponding cable in his hand, along with his PDA, and plugged in the device. Seconds later, he turned to the others, smiling.

“I’m in. This won’t take long.”

As predicted, the outer doors to the larger ship soon opened. The team moved inside, and allowed them to close behind. Once the pressure had equalized, Eva hit the button to open the inner doors.

“Stay on your toes,” she said. “We don’t know if we’re going to encounter friend or foe.”

Smoothly moving forward, they found themselves in the Zero-G room, as expected. There, they had a brief but adrenaline-fueled standoff with Ray and Lieutenant Al-Nilam. Once everyone realized they were allies, their guns were lowered. Eva rushed forward and hugged Ray.

“Thank god,” she breathed. “What the hell is going on?”

She released him and stepped back. Richter shook his hand.

“It’s bad,” Ray began. “Eckes has killed Mintaka and Agena, destroyed both Christie’s android and the orb, and seized the bridge. Colonel Dietrich must have locked down the interior doors, because we’ve had to override the hydraulic mechanisms to move between rooms. As you probably already know, however, there are no access panels to the ones that go to the bridge, at least not from the outside.”

“That’s by design,” said Richter. “Unfortunately it’s working against us in this case.”

“Exactly. The ship is running on its backup computers now. I have no idea if Christie’s consciousness has been preserved, but…”

Ray trailed off, and tears came to his eyes. He wiped off his face, and looked away.

Al-Nilam put his hand on his shoulder. “We were trying to figure out another way to access the bridge when we noticed the Alnairian ship approaching. When it looked like they were getting ready to dock, we had to come here to try to repel boarders.”

“That could still happen at any moment,” said Lesath. “I’m sure Eckes is trying to figure out how to open the outer airlock doors as we speak. If he does, we’re going to have a nasty fight on our hands.”

Eva said, “We’re working on trying to establish remote control using an override code. That may be the only way to get to the bridge. In the meantime, who else is still unaccounted for?”

“Literally everyone other than ourselves and the three people I already mentioned,” replied Ray. “We haven’t had time to manually access the lab, engine room, crew quarters, gun rooms, et cetera. We can assume that Dietrich, Haverbrook, Brockway, and Mungavin are on the bridge. If true, that leaves five others somewhere else on the ship.”

“Hopefully they’re all okay.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it. The bridge crew, I mean. We heard an awful lot of gunshots just before the ship departed from Tartarus.”

“Grim.”

“I could probably break down the door,” offered Fuyue, “but I can’t guarantee the force of the strikes wouldn’t harm anyone on the bridge, or do critical damage to the ship’s superstructure.”

“I have an idea,” said Lesath. “Richter, one consequence of the orb system being down is that the Percheron isn’t running any electronic countermeasures, correct?”

“That sounds right to me,” he said.

“So that means that we can use the matter replicator on board the Antares to transport something off this ship.”

“I think I see where you’re going with this,” said Eva. “Though using it on Eckes would kill him, it won’t give us access to the bridge.”

“Yes, but we can try locking on to the doors and transporting them away. Without redundant material present, that would reduce the mass of the doors by what, thirty to fifty percent?”

“That’s my understanding of the limitations of the device. It’s a great idea. Do that once or twice, and we should have no problem forcing our way through them.”

A deep thumping sound could be heard from outside the port airlock.

“We’re running out of time. We’ll do both. Fuyue, Bailey, Adeler, you’re with me. The rest of you guard this room.”

She and the other three ran down the central corridor and arrived at the starboard side entrance to the bridge. Eva glanced over the railing to the stairway and noticed the body of Lieutenant Agena splayed across the steps.

“Ready,” said Fuyue.

“Leonid, are you listening?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” she said. “I’m reading one life sign from the bridge.”

“Lock onto it and transport it to our cargo bay.”

There was a blood-curdling scream from the bridge for a moment, before the sound was abruptly cut off.

“Got him, Captain. At least, what’s left of him.”

“Serves him right. Good work. Now lock onto the door in front of us and do the same. Hell, do it twice, one right after the other.”

A cascade of dancing green light appeared across the door frame, accompanied by a sound like sand being poured onto a hard surface. The process was repeated, and silence returned to the hallway.

“All set over here. There’s a nice sheet of metal dust coating the pile of goo that used to be Eckes. I’m not cleaning that up, by the way.”

Without waiting to be prompted further, Ray shoulder-checked the door. It collapsed inward like a styrofoam panel, scattering gray chunks everywhere. The others followed him in, somewhat more tactically.

A horrible scene lay before him. Colonel Dietrich, Major Mungavin, and Lieutenant Haverbrook lay in a bloody heap by the rear consoles, devoid of life.

“Jesus Christ,” muttered Ray, then he spoke to the others. “Check the crew. I’ll see if the helm is responding.”

Fuyue and Lesath moved to look at the stack of victims while Ray leaned over the console at the pilot chair.

“They’re dead, no doubt about it,” said Lesath. “Shit.”

Ray sat down, and settled in behind the flight controls. “I’ve got full control of the helm. Sub-light only, but it’s enough to get us out of here.”

“Excellent. Leonid, has the Alnairian ship fixed any moorings?”

“They’re attached via a magnetic lock,” she replied. “You should be able to pull away without any damage. I assume you want me to disengage the Percheron, too?”

“Yes, it’s time for both of us to get back to Tartarus. Follow us, and make sure we’re not pursued. Mister Bailey, take us out of here as soon as you’re ready.”

“I’m going to need a heading,” he said. “Eva, see if you can access navigation.”

Eva sat down at a console. “I’m on it.”

“The Antares is clear,” said Faen.

Lesath said, “Forget the heading for now, Bailey, just break orbit and aim for Alnair.”

“Fine by me,” he said, pushing forward on the throttle lever.

The ship vibrated for a moment as it separated from the cruiser and accelerated away. The star at the center of the system appeared ahead. Fuyue rested his staff against a console, and sat down.

“FTL drive is still offline,” said Eva. “The best we can do is 0.9c.”

“Can you override the lockdown?” asked Lesath.

“Give me a sec… yes, I’ll do that.”

Ray glanced over his shoulder. “Tell the other team that their first priority should be to check on the other two Gray Men in the hold and make sure they’re still secure. And try not to kill any of our people along the way.”

Lesath keyed her radio and relayed the instructions to the others.

“Leonid,” she continued, “contact the Reckless Faith and the Fox and give them an update.”

“I will comply,” said Faen.

“The cruiser is in pursuit,” said Fuyue.

“Shocking,” uttered Lesath. “Leonid, find out how the negotiations with the Alnairians are going at Tartarus. Adeler, I don’t suppose it’s too much to ask to reactivate the invisibility shield?”

Fuyue gestured at his screen. “I can work on that.”

“I’d appreciate it,” said Eva.

“Captain, I wouldn’t worry about the cruiser in the short term. We’re already ten thousand kilometers away. While they’re matching our velocity, they don’t have any weapons that can touch us at this distance.”

Lesath nodded. “Good, though I fear this evolution will be interpreted as hostile no matter what kind of agreement, if any, has been reached between Scherer and their main fleet.”

Ray said, “In that case, I say we provide them with a definitive illustration of our power.”

“I’m not blind to the carnage here; believe me, I’d like nothing more than to obliterate that cruiser. But unless something has changed that I’m not aware of, Scherer is still in charge of this mission.”

“I’ve got a vector for you, Bailey,” said Fuyue. “I’m sending it to the HUD.”

Coordinates appeared on the main screen, along with an arrow pointing in the direction the pilot needed to turn. Ray followed the path shown.

“Rendezvous in seventeen minutes,” said Eva, then glanced at the bodies behind her. “If I know John at all, this is going to be a declaration of war. Captain Lesath, you should decide now if you’re willing to commit the Antares to what’s about to happen.”

Lesath looked at Fuyue. “If not for the Thesprotians, this would be something with which the Sortarii wouldn’t involve themselves. As it stands, Master Fuyue, I think this is worthy of our effort.”

Fuyue said, “It would be obviously so, if not for the unknown state of Kheiron, though I fear we’ve run out of time to determine the relevance of his status. Mister Bailey, justice will be served for your friends, one way or the other.”

Ray’s expression became steely. “Good. Let’s show these assholes who they’re missing with.”

Legacy of the Centaur (RFVIII), Chapter 19

Spoiler alert: This is the work-in-progress of the 8th book in the Reckless Faith series. You may read the prologue here: https://devonai.wordpress.com/2023/10/31/reckless-faith-viii-prologue/

Jan Nayiir sat on a rooftop balcony with his old friend President Will Miller, both thoroughly relaxed as the two men shared a beer and watched the sun set over the gem of the city that was Lucidus. In steep-backed wooden chairs, reclined at a comfortable angle, the round-the-clock activity of the capitol city was far enough away to be reduced to a low hum. The palace was surrounded on three sides by parks, and on the fourth by the university, so the peace was a luxury enjoyed by few who called the metropolis home.

Will had just finished confirming to Jan that not only had Secretary Tailor just visited him there, but also that Tailor was not to be harmed under any circumstances. This was an unusual stance for the president to take. Normally, he would have agreed with Jan that the secretary had become too much of a liability, and needed to be eliminated. As a compromise, Miller had agreed to allow Tailor to be taken to Inferno, where he would be declared insane and incarcerated for the rest of his natural life.

Jan glanced at the several empty beer cans that littered the marble tile surface around them, then finished off the one in his hand. “With all due respect, sir, you’ve skipped an important step. The Terran squadron stands between us and Tartarus. I’ve already told you we can’t possibly defeat them in battle. So are you asking me to tell Admiral Butcher that he’s free to negotiate terms with them? What about the Thesprotians?”

Will didn’t reply, so Jan shifted in his seat to look directly at him. A geyser of dark gray liquid was flowing from Will’s mouth, and quickly soaked his body and the chair in which he sat. Jan leapt to his feet in terror, backing up until he collided with the stone railing at the edge of the balcony. The putrid water swept away the beer cans before cascading off of the ledge. Thrashing as if he was in agony, Will couldn’t speak, but Jan nonetheless heard his voice echoing in the center of his skull.

“You reap what you sow, Mister Eckes.”

The scene went black. After a few seconds, Jan could hear voices, and became aware that he was lying on a metal surface, eyes closed, and with his left hand in contact with something warm slightly above him. He resisted the urge to sit up, and instead remained motionless and listened. There were two people speaking nearby, and while he didn’t recognize the language, the translation device implanted in his left ear canal was able to interpret it for him.

“Are you sure?” a male voice was asking.

“I’ve definitely lost him,” a female voice replied.

“You weren’t in there for very long. Did you…”

“No, and no. This is going to be far more difficult than I first thought.”

“What went wrong?”

“I think I messed up when in his life the memory was meant to be. Chronologically, I mean. It didn’t make any sense to him, so I’m not surprised the simulation collapsed. Unlike other times I’ve done a brain scan on an unwilling subject, there’s nothing physically wrong with him other than the sedative we gave him. I think that’s part of the problem; his mind isn’t malleable enough.”

“Someone in his position probably has training to resist interrogation.”

“I don’t doubt it. Anyway, I say we give him a few minutes before I try again.”

“I’ll let the captain know. We’ve got forty-five minutes before the Alnairians expect us to turn him and his companions over. Let’s hope it’s enough time.”

Jan allowed his eyelids to flutter. In the brief moments they were open, he was able to determine where the people were, and the approximate size of the room. Carefully flexing his muscles, he felt that he was fully in control of his body. He knew he had to act immediately or miss his chance. He opened his eyes and flung himself to his feet, only to realize a half a second later that the object he felt in his hand was attached to it. In an instant, he charged at the nearest person, a humanoid man wearing a green flight suit, and swung the object, which he could now see was a translucent orb, at his face.

He wouldn’t have been able to hold the orb if it wasn’t taped to his hand, and although it seemed to be nearly weightless, striking the man with it had the desired effect. He interrupted the man’s attempt to draw a pistol, caused him to drop an electronic device, and broke his nose. Jan maneuvered himself around the man’s back, and managed to draw the weapon on his belt. The second person in the room, a woman dressed in blue pants and a gray long-sleeve shirt, pointed her own pistol at him, and barked a command. Jan managed to shoot her five times before the first man regained his senses and grabbed his arm. They wrestled over the pistol for a moment before Jan knocked it away, and clubbed him in the head with the orb several times before the object shattered.

The lights in the room flickered before returning to normal. Trying to ignore the fact that the orb had contained what seemed like a billion tiny diamonds, which spilled everywhere, as well as the cut on the palm of his left hand, Jan scooped up the pistol on the deck. The woman was on her hands and knees, a clear liquid pouring from her head. She struggled to stand up before he emptied the rest of the magazine into her. She collapsed, and the room returned to silence. Jan discarded the empty pistol, and retrieved the one next to the woman. A brief glance at her was enough to confirm that she was some kind of android, in contrast to the man, who was covered in blood. Jan familiarized himself with the weapon, flipped off the safety catch, and readied himself to move on.

He found himself in what was clearly a galley, which seemed to confirm his suspicion that he was on board a ship. In addition to the tables, chairs, bar, and kitchen, two large windows on either side allowed a view of two massive water tanks. A console was mounted on the wall by the bar, so he approached it to see what he could make of it. With the interface in another language, he quickly realized he’d be wasting his time trying to use it. If security had been alerted to the fracas in the other room, there was no indication of it on the screen. A set of stairs offered him the choice of going down or up, so he chose to go up.

On the next level, he arrived in a central corridor. To his left were several identical doors. To his right was a break room or lounge area, with a few couches, and two windows to the exterior that proved he was in space. Further ahead, another corridor followed the outside of the ship. He headed that way. Another stairwell took up the left side, and a single door lay at the end. A woman was running up the stairs, wearing a flight suit like the man from earlier. She was also armed, and barely had a chance to glance over her shoulder before Jan shot her. She collapsed instantly, and tumbled back down the steps. The door ahead opened, and a tall man with darker skin burst out. Though Jan shot him in the arm, he was able to stumble backward and return to the room. The door had almost closed before Jan got there, and he pushed his way inside.

This room was obviously the bridge. In addition to the man he had just shot, there were two women, one at the flight controls, and another in a chair directly behind that station. Several consoles and empty chairs ringed the room. The second woman was older, with long red hair tied back behind her head. She stood up, her hand moving toward her sidearm.

“Nobody fucking move,” he said.

The man was bleeding profusely from his right arm, and offered no further resistance. The woman at the controls kept her hands in sight above her shoulders, and the one standing spoke to him.

“I’m Colonel Dietrich, captain of this vessel. Surrender, or you’ll never leave this ship alive.”

“That seems to be open to negotiation. Lock down this room, and we’ll talk.”

“I’d love to, but our main computer systems just went down, and we’re trying to get the backups in place. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

“I’ll be asking the questions from now on. Now all of you, move to the back of the bridge, and slowly take your gun belts off.”

The crewmembers complied, though the man had to have help disarming himself. Jan ushered them away from the pile of guns, belts, and holsters on the deck and dragged them further away with his feet.

“You need to let me put a tourniquet on his arm,” said Dietrich.

“I don’t need to do shit. I don’t mind telling you that I’ve already killed two of your people, and disabled the android, so don’t test me. You’ll comply with my demands or I’ll kill all three of you and figure out how to fly the ship myself.”

“What do you want?”

“First of all, the men that were with me in Secretary Tailor’s home, are they on this ship?”

“No, they’re being detained elsewhere.”

“Another ship?”

She glared at him. “Yes.”

“Lock down the ship. I want all the automatic doors secured, including these two.”

“I told you, we’re having problems…”

“You’d better move to the nearest console and figure it out, or your friend here is going to bleed to death. Put it up on the main screen, and don’t try anything stupid.”

Dietrich held up her hands, and crossed to one of the computer stations on the port side. She shared the screen with the HUD on the viewscreen. Though Jan couldn’t be sure what she was doing, it didn’t take her long. An audible click could be heard from both exit doors.

“Done.”

Jan motioned with his pistol. “Walk in front of the door.”

Dietrich did so. The door didn’t open. Jan had already noticed a first aid kit contained in a wall-mounted cabinet, so he gestured at it.

“I don’t feel so good,” said the man, leaning on a console.

“If there’s a tourniquet in there, go ahead and grab it.”

He watched with feigned disinterest as the two women removed the man’s jacket and set to work to stop the bleeding. It didn’t take long to secure the tourniquet, at which point Dietrich stood up.

“He needs surgery, she said, wiping her hands on her pants.

“Then you should be properly motivated to comply with my next instruction. This ship, and the others in your group, will proceed to the terrestrial coordinates on Alnair that I’m about to give you, land, and surrender to the forces that will meet us there.”

“You can’t seriously expect us to do that. I’d rather sacrifice the Percheron than allow that to happen. The fate of the Thesprotians is reason enough.”

Jan shot the other woman in her kneecap. She collapsed to the deck, bellowing in agony, as blood began to soak her pant leg.

“God damn it, Eckes, we only have so many tourniquets!”

“Then I suggest you do as I say.”

Dietrich gritted her teeth, then spoke to the air. “Colonel Dietrich to the Fox, come in, over.”

A voice could be heard over the radio. “This is Kitsune, go ahead.”

“Mister Eckes and his people are ready to be returned to the Alnairians. We got what we needed from them. Does the fleet know we have them?”

“Not yet. We based the entirety of our negotiations on the strength of our ships.”

“How did that go?”

“They’ve been scanning us using relatively primitive techniques, but it should be enough to prove that they’re no match for us. Hopefully a demonstration won’t be necessary.”

“Then I recommend we bring the Grey Men back to Alnair. Anything else would raise suspicion, don’t you think?”

“I mean, sure, you could drop them right back at Tailor’s residence. But that would be contingent on Christie ensuring that their memories don’t reveal what happened in the meantime, wouldn’t it?”

“She seems confident that it won’t be a problem. We’ll take care of it. Say hi to Talyn for me. Percheron out.”

Jan said, “I told you all of your ships need to go. And who is Talyn?”

“My boyfriend, not that it’s any of your business. The Fox is a mercenary vessel with no particular loyalty to us and no invisibility shield. Telling them to accompany us to Alnair would be suicide and they know it. There’s no way I can get them to go with us, even if I were to offer to double their payment. The Percheron should be enough of a prize for Alnair by itself.”

Jan sighed. “I can see this isn’t going to go the way I wanted. What a shame.”

He shot her in the chest, then turned the pistol on the other two until the magazine ran dry.

_____

“Got it!”

In the cargo hold of the Percheron, Ray and Lieutenant Al-Nilam had just managed to accomplish something on the small console mounted on the wall by the door. Both men had been taking a turn guarding the two other so-called Gray Men while Christie was interrogating their boss. It was only after their relief had been late, and the sound of what they thought was a gunshot from somewhere on a higher deck, did they realize that the door was locked, and they couldn’t get out. The console did little more than confirm their fears that something was seriously wrong, as it was evident right away that the ship was running on its backup computer system. Requests for help via radio or the ship’s intercom went unanswered.

Ray’s pronouncement was for their success at prying an access panel off of the wall, and shutting off the hydraulic controls for the door. This unlocked it, as it was designed to do, and freed the men. Their victory was tempered by the fact that their detainees were alert and oriented, though their hands were bound behind their backs. Ray turned to his friend.

“We’re going to have to keep an eye on these two, Mo,” he said.

“I know. I’d say zip-tie them to something, except that Scherer’s original designs carried over into this space, and there’s nothing but smooth metal walls.”

Ray drew his revolver. “I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about. We used to deal with glitches like this all the time on the Faith. You stay here; I’ll find out what’s going on.”

“You say that, and at the same time you’ve got your Smith out.”

“One can’t be too careful. I’ll tell you what, I’ll go to the armory and grab a couple of Motorolas, then come back here. That way, at least the two of us can stay in contact.”

“Good idea.”

They looked at their charges, who as before hadn’t said a word to either of them. Ray slapped Al-Nilam on the shoulder, then exited into the corridor. From there, it was a short trip up a flight of stairs to the galley, and then forward into the orb room. Ray’s jaw dropped at the horrific scene that met him there, and he rushed ahead. His priority was the prone body of Christie in her corporeal form, centered in a large pool of the clear liquid he knew to be the android equivalent of blood. He didn’t need an advanced degree in forensics to figure out what happened; she had been shot several times with a large-caliber pistol, probably the empty Glock .45 lying on the deck nearby.

Murmuring almost incoherently to himself, Ray took in the state of the rest of the room. Lieutenant Mintaka, identifiable only by the nametape on his chest, lay nearby; his head had been smashed beyond recognition. His blood had soaked a layer of what appeared to be nearly-microscopic crystals, accompanied by translucent shards of glass. Ray had to guess that it was the remains of the orb, since that object was absent from its usual place in the center of the chamber. A few errant strands of duct tape told the rest of the tale.

Ray forced himself to focus on the task at hand. If Christie could be saved, the effort would have to happen after the ship had been secured. He resisted the almost overwhelming urge to embrace Christie and sob, and rose to his feet. Moving toward the bow, he encountered another locked door. This time, overriding the hydraulic controls only took him a few minutes, having just done it for the one to the cargo hold. Wrenching the door panels to each side, he arrived in the armory. There, he secured his beloved Remington 870, racked a round of buckshot into the chamber, and grabbed a shoulder bag full of shells. He also grabbed a M-4 Carbine and several magazines for Al-Nilam. He then picked up a pair of portable radios, ensured that they were charged and transmitting, as well as two medkits.

He rushed back to the cargo hold. His companion nodded morosely at what Ray had to tell him, and accepted the weapon and radio offered.

“Are you sure you want to proceed alone?” he asked.

Ray unlimbered the medkits. “Not really, no. The only thing I can think of to keep these guys docile is a shot of diazepam from the nerve agent kits. I don’t know if their physiology can handle it, but at this point I don’t really care if it kills them.”

“I agree.”

They opened the kits, removed the auto-injectors of diazepam, and stabbed both prisoners in the thigh with them. The syringes hissed, and the Alnairians immediately passed out. Al-Nilam added two more zip-ties to secure the men to each other.

“For what it’s worth,” said Ray, standing. “Let’s get our butts to the bridge.”

Legacy of the Centaur (RFVIII), Chapter 18

Spoiler alert: This is the work-in-progress of the 8th book in the Reckless Faith series. You may read the prologue here: https://devonai.wordpress.com/2023/10/31/reckless-faith-viii-prologue/

Reveki Kitsune sat in the galley of the Leto, a space originally designed to accommodate a much larger crew than the one Wega Talyn currently commanded. She was there alone with Chason, after reuniting him with his sister at the heliopause of Zeta Centauri. It had already been decided that Chason would be joining the crew of the Leto, but Vecky was compelled to have a one-on-one chat with him prior to saying goodbye.

The two of them sat on a bench at a steel table, one of many in the open and bright room. The smell of a past meal permeated the air, and caused Vecky’s stomach to churn in protest at its current state. Such sustenance would have to wait; information recently provided to her by Wega was suspicious, to say the least, though it was only Vecky’s gut instinct that told her not to trust it. Sipping from a hot mug of yutha, hardly her first choice in beverages, she nonetheless accepted it if nothing else was available.

“Before your incarceration,” she was saying, “did you hear anything about Alpha Lupi?”

Chason had chosen a much stronger drink, and threw back a large gulp of the clear liquid. Vecky wasn’t sure what type of alcohol it was, but it smelled like bananas and old socks.

 “Of course,” he replied. “I’d long known it was Wega’s preferred redoubt while taking a break from her various dealings, or hiding from particularly aggressive creditors.”

“Okay, but anything outside of Wega’s accounts?”

Chason thought about that for a few seconds. “Hmm. It was mentioned by one or two fellow inmates, actual criminals, mind you, as a refuge from Alnair, if they needed somewhere to hide out. Other than that, I can’t be sure. Why are you asking me all of this?”

“Because Wega told us that Alpha Lupi is a barren rock, unsuitable for a permanent settlement. If such a thing were true, then fine, but there was something about the way she told us that didn’t sit well with me.”

“I can only tell you that I trust Wega completely. If you’re not sure, go check it out yourself. With a ship as fast as the Reckless Faith, how long could it possibly take?”

“Time isn’t a luxury we can afford right now. You haven’t heard yet, but our conflict with Alnair has just been escalated, and we need to act quickly to keep the Thesprotians safe until we can get them off of Tartarus.”

Chason stood up, and crossed to a counter to grab a bottle of liquor. “Though I’m not blind to their suffering, that’s not my problem. Unless Wega changes her mind about helping you out, my involvement in all of this is over. Sorry.”

Vecky raised her eyebrows. “Are you drunk already? You’re being awfully rude to me considering that I’m solely responsible for putting together the mission to rescue you. I could have just as easily told Wega I didn’t feel I owed her anything after the death of Artur.”

He refilled his glass. “If I’m being rude, it’s because you’re implying that either me or my sister is a liar. I know as well as you do how difficult it was to get me out of there.”

“Fair enough. I should have known better than to get between a person and their family.” She stood up. “I’ve got to get back to my ship, things could get hot and heavy in this system in a big hurry. If this is goodbye, then I wish you the best.”

“So long, then, Captain.”

Vecky exited the room, and followed the corridor until she reached the airlock she wanted. Waiting there was Vesther, who she’d already met, as well as a man she thought she recognized. He was holding a bottle of brown liquid with a note taped to it.

“Aren’t you from the Eagle?” asked Vecky.

“I was,” the man replied. “The name’s Harrey, I used to be on Daimyo Yurishi’s command staff. We never spoke directly, though. Anyway, you’re a hero to us, as I’m sure you know. This bottle of whiskey is from Vesther and I as a thank you for that, and rescuing Chason.”

Vecky accepted the bottle, and shook their hands. “Wow, thanks! I’ll be sure to share it with my crew.”

“Did I spell your name right?” asked Vesther, pointing to the note.

Looking at the piece of paper, Vecky could see a written message.

Keep your mouth shut. Captain Talyn is planning on destroying the Fox as soon as it clears the moorings. We can’t stop her, so you’d better go light the instant you’re on board.

“Yeah, you did. Thanks again, you guys are great!”

Though her head reeled at this information, she kept her bearing. She pulled out her PDA, and sent a text message to Cane. Then, she rendered her best Camphustian salute, and accessed the control panel to the airlock. The door slid open, and not entirely sure one of the pair seeing her off wouldn’t shoot her in the back, she returned to the Fox.

As soon as the inner door on her side closed, she could feel the deck shift under her feet, and whoever was piloting the ship wrenched it free from the Leto without waiting for the pressure to equalize, resulting in an audible pop. There was another shudder as the Fox went into FTL, a move that doubtlessly resulted in some structural damage to both ships. Vecky ran as fast as she could to the bridge. Cane and Penrose were there, along with Miriam, who was at the flight controls.

“Thank the core,” said Cane. “We weren’t entirely sure you were aboard.”

Vecky sank into a chair at one of the consoles. “Then thank you for following my instructions to the letter. Can I assume we’re on course to rendezvous with the Terrans?”

“You can,” replied Miriam. “We’ll be at Tartarus in seconds. What the bloody hell happened over there?”

“Wega betrayed us. And no, I have no idea why.”

Cane said, “The most logical explanation is that she was trying to hide something about Alpha Lupi.”

Vecky shook her head. “Maybe. I’m not so sure. Once we’re safe, I want to review the exact timeline of when we got her request to rescue Chason, cross-referenced with what we know about how things went down at the prison. I suspect there’s a correlation there that better explains why she decided we needed to die.”

The Fox dropped out of FTL, and Miriam established a high orbit of Tartarus, the planet briefly appearing in front of them before settling in on their port side. Though they could not see them, they knew both the Faith and the Percheron were nearby.

“There’s no sign of any hostile craft,” said Penrose, peering at his monitor.

“Which ship has the Alnairian spies?”

“They were brought aboard the Percheron,” replied Cane.

“Then send a request to Colonel Dietrich. I want to dock with them immediately.”

Cane’s fingers flew across his console. “Request sent. It was approved.”

“This is one reason I don’t take sides when Scherer and Dietrich have a spat.”

Miriam and Cane worked together to bring the Fox alongside the Percheron, a not inconsequential task considering the latter ship was invisible. Vecky was already up and moving as Cane confirmed a good seal on the airlocks, and she exited the bridge. It was a short trip to the larger ship, and a quick walk to its bridge. There, she found Colonel Dietrich and her command staff. Vecky gave them a brief summary of what happened.

“What an ungrateful bitch, if you’ll excuse the language,” said Cynthia.

“Wega has an agenda we don’t know about, obviously,” said Vecky. “I’ve asked my people to review everything we know about the time between her initial contact with my ship and now. If you could do the same from your own mission logs, I’d appreciate it. Also, I’m hoping Tolliver’s interrogation of those Alnairian weirdos has borne fruit.”

“We’ll help in any way we can. As for Christie, she’s still linked via our orb to the agent who presented himself as the leader of the trio. She could be done probing his mind in five seconds or five hours, it depends on how resilient he is. So I’m told, anyway.”

Vecky nodded. “Fine, then. I guess I’ll have to take some deep breaths for now. I’m sure you can understand that I’m rather worked up at the moment.”

Christie’s voice could be heard over the intercom. “Captain Dietrich, I’m all done with the so-called Mister Eckes down here.”

“Copy that,” she replied. “Are you satisfied with what you learned, or do you want to continue with his subordinates?”

“Oh, Eckes’ brain was a veritable cornucopia of delectable intel. I have enough for a serious briefing just as soon as everyone is ready. He’s still unconscious, so Mintaka and I can drag him to the cargo hold and then meet you in the conference room.”

“Please do, we’ll see you momentarily.”

Cythia stood up, and nodded to Brockway, Mungavin, and Sakura. The four of them, along with Vecky, exited the bridge and crossed the hallway to the conference room. Without the need to be prompted, Brockway walked up to the wall-mounted monitor and used it to establish a connection with the Reckless Faith. Vecky did the same for the Fox with her PDA. Christie entered, and invited everyone to sit down. Vecky stayed on her feet, and leaned up against the far wall. Once a good audio connection was confirmed between the three ships, Christie spoke.

“Bottom line up front,” she began, “the president of Alnair is ultimately in charge of the Gray Men. Any feigning of ignorance on his part was fully intentional. The privilege of knowing the truth is shared by his predecessors, all the way back to when the country that hosts the citadel was the foremost superpower on the planet. As far as conspiracy theories go, this one is a whopper.”

John, responding over the radio, asked, “Can you confirm that the president knew the truth about Inferno?”

“Oh my, yes.”

“Then what if Eckes were to blow the lid off of its secret?” asked Mike. “Would the president try to deny it?”

“Based on the interactions that Eckes has had with him over the years, I’d say yes. Keep in mind that according to what I’ve just learned, the Gray Men are indeed a myth to the Alnairian people. Even if Eckes were to, for some reason, make his knowledge public, the president still has plausible deniability.”

“Then it seems we’re back to the original idea of kidnapping the president,” said John. “The success of the Secretary Tailor doppelganger only bolsters the viability of the plan.”

Cynthia asked, “How would the rest of the Gray Men react if they suspect that Eckes, the president, Tailor, or all of them, that they’ve been compromised?”

“That’s an easy one,” said Christie. “Their standing orders are to kill them at the earliest covert opportunity. Tailor got off easy.”

“Apparently.”

Vecky asked, “Can you implant a memory into Eckes?”

Christie shrugged, surprised. “Maybe? Such a thing has never been attempted. But I think I understand your idea. As I’ve reported, delving into someone’s mind results in data that is difficult to quantify. A more feasible option than what you’ve suggested is to create an orb simulation for Eckes’ benefit, with a scenario that best describes what we want him to do.”

“I like that idea,” said John. “What did you have in mind?”

“Me?” responded Vecky. “I dunno. Have him tell the president that our little squadron is far more powerful than we actually are, and that their only choice is to go public with the truth about Inferno, or we’ll destroy their fleet and leave them defenseless.”

Brockway responded to an alert on the monitor. “The Antares has just arrived. Haverbrook reports that they’ve having problems with their SRC transceiver, and are currently only able to broadcast a VLF signal locally. As you can imagine, Captain Lesath is hoping for an explanation of why we summoned them.”

“That’s great news,” said Cynthia. “And I like Captain Kitsune’s idea. Tolliver, make it happen, to the best of your ability. Though I’m loath to let Eckes and his minions go, it seems like the best choice.”

“I concur,” said John.

“Not to put any pressure on you, Tolliver,” began Brockway, “but half of the Alnairian fleet has just arrived. There’s a dozen ships, ranging from a battleship to heavy cruisers and smaller vessels.”

“I recommend we open up a dialogue, if for no other reason than to stall for time. In the meantime, we’ll scan them and see if any of those ships pose a direct threat to any of ours.”

Cynthia nodded. “Sounds good. Captain Kitsune, any objections?”

“No,” said Vecky. “I should get back to the Fox.”

“Then let’s get busy. Commander Scherer, do you want to take point with the Alnairians? I’ll brief Lesath.”

“Roger that,” John replied. “Let’s hope she and her crew support this insanity. I’d be surprised if they didn’t; they kind of owe us.”

“Lesath might feel otherwise, all things considered. But they’re here, which says a lot. Do me a favor, and try not to start a war in the next five minutes.”

“But we’re so good at it!”

__________

Captain Lesath wasn’t taking any chances. The Antares remained hidden underneath its invisibility shield while docked with the Percheron, despite the fact that the latter ship, as well as its companions, were in full view of the Alnairian fleet. While John was busy buying time by negotiating for the return of Eckes and his two lackeys, Cynthia and her second-in-command were in the galley on their ship with Captain Lesath, Sargas, Fuchner, the android form of Faen, and Shang Fuyue. All of them had adopted clothing similar to that which Fuyue wore, and each of them had a wooden staff at least one meter in length, both of which begged a question Cynthia was dying to ask. So far, she was the one answering the questions, so she had to draw on her increasingly deep well of patience while she updated her new guests on the current state of affairs within the constellation of Centaurus.

Fuyue seemed particular bothered upon hearing about Kheiron, and the Kira’To’s fate, and several furtive glances to his crewmembers implied to Cynthia that they knew something about it. Nonetheless, by the time Cynthia had finished giving them what she believed was a reasonably succinct summary of events, neither Fuyue nor his friends had volunteered to help fill in the blanks. After running out of things to say, Cynthia watched as the group shared another moment of wordless communication before Fuyue offered a statement.

“After everything that happened last year, it was unanimously decided on the Antares to reach out to Aquila for help with not only interpreting what the Chimera had told us, but also to see if he could help us evaluate the truthfulness of their claims of the True Nature. Aquila did, in fact, share some useful tidbits with us, including a second-hand story of one of his kind who had abandoned his brethren in favor of some personal agenda on Tartarus. One would have to assume he was talking about Kheiron.”

“So,” Cynthia pushed, “do you sense him at all down there?”

“I do, but it’s strange. It’s a weak feeling; the best I can describe it is that his essence is spread out over a large area. I don’t know how else to explain it.”

Cynthia pulled up an image on her PDA, and showed it to him. “This is the location of the prison. Latitude and longitude are below it. Does that match what you’re sensing?”

“I guess? As I said, it’s more of an impression than a tangible hit.”

“Then perhaps he did survive. It’s hardly our biggest problem right now. Before we continue, I have to ask you: will you fight on our side, if necessary?”

“For the sake of the Thesprotians, yes. This is exactly the kind of thing the Sortarii are meant to support.”

Cynthia sighed. “Finally, we get to the elephant in the room. I take it, from your garb and weapons, that the crew of the Antares have chosen to join the Order of the Sortarii.”

Lesath said, “If you’ve seen what we’ve seen, you would understand. Everything else in the universe pales in comparison to the True Nature. Seeking to be closer to it, by way of the path of the Sortarii, is the only other option to suicide.”

“Forsaking their past lives was that much easier after their experience with the Chimeras,” added Fuyue. “Historically, acolytes have been harder to recruit. Whether they realize it or not, the Chimeras did the Order a huge favor. Our isolation from any others back towards the core galaxy isn’t ideal, but distance is ultimately irrelevant.”

“What about you?” Brockway asked, looking at Faen. “Can you even wield a Sortarii weapon in your android form?”

“Your intuition is correct,” replied Faen. “I’ve had more difficulty than the others learning how to take advantage of everything my staff might have to offer. In fact, I haven’t earned the right to carry it in the same way as Lesath, Sargas, and Fuchner. They’ve imbued their weapons with their powers, upon Fuyue’s instruction, whereas mine was done by him.”

“The Order might have a problem with that,” said Fuyue. “However, since the Archons that outrank me are tens of thousands of light-years away, they’ll have to defer to my judgment. Despite that problem, Leonid has nonetheless ascended to the rank of Sortarius, while the rest of the crew of the Antares remains as Acolytes. That’s not meant as an insult, of course; any one of them could kill with a simple gesture.”

“I don’t doubt it,” said Cynthia. “But unless that skill applies to space combat, it’s nothing more than academic at the moment. Speaking of which, Lieutenant Commander Brockway, have we completed the threat assessment of the Alnairian fleet?”

“Yes ma’am,” she replied. “Only the Fox is in any real danger of damage from their weapons. Her slug-throwers, on the other hand, would be devastating to them, as would anything of Umberian origin for the rest of us. If Commander Scherer’s negotiations fail, I suspect a show of force will be necessary to prove that to them.”

“I wonder how many of them we’ll have to destroy before they get the point. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

Legacy of the Centaur (RF VIII), Chapter 17

Spoiler alert: This is the work-in-progress of the 8th book in the Reckless Faith series. You may read the prologue here: https://devonai.wordpress.com/2023/10/31/reckless-faith-viii-prologue/

“If word of this gets out, it’s my ass.”

Commander Hadar’s statement was the first thing that he said to Colonel Dietrich as he stepped across the threshold from the airlock on the Bidelman to the one on the Percheron. Cynthia and her crew had been able to make contact with Hadar’s ship using the same ULF pulse communication system he had used to stay connected to his marines, and after a little bit of negotiation, Hadar had convinced the Percheron to land at the far end of a spaceport on Alnair’s southern continent. With the Percheron hidden behind its invisibility shield, and Hadar’s excuse to Admiral Butcher that the waste reclamation systems on his ship needed to be purged, it was his hope that he could retrieve the surviving marines without anyone else knowing.

Waste retrieval ground vehicles, known as ‘shit wagons’ to fleet personnel, were busy pumping out the remains of the crew’s meals on the port side of the Bidelman, while the Percheron had sidled up to one of the starboard airlocks. Reasonably isolated from any of the spaceport’s buildings, and parked on the opposite side of the airfield and landing pads, Hadar had been confident that the Percheron wouldn’t be detected, at least for a short visit.

Inside the airlock, in addition to the ship captains, were two medics from the Bidelman, Lieutenant Brockway, Clerk, Courier, and Scrivener. The Alnairian marines saluted Hadar, though Scrivener did so from a wheelchair. They exchanged a few words, and the medics escorted the troops inside the Bidelman. Cynthia and Hadar shook hands.

“Your cloaking technology is very impressive,” he began. “I’m not surprised your ships avoided detection at Tartarus.”

“I wish I could take credit for it,” replied Cynthia, “but it and much of our tech was given to us by other races. Shall we head to the conference room? We have a lot to discuss.”

“Lead the way.”

The trio entered the central corridor, and made the brief trip to the conference room. Cynthia introduced the others who were there already, including John, Vecky, and several others from each ship. Once Hadar had been installed in one of the chairs, John led him through a thirty-minute summary of everything that had happened since their arrival in the system. Hadar spent much of the briefing in a state of shock.

“So there you have it,” concluded John. “We’re ready to begin shuttling the Thesprotians to Eniph, unless other arrangements can be made.”

Hadar shook his head in disbelief. “If the public gets wind of this, it will be the biggest scandal ever on Alnair.”

“Do you have any idea who hired the Tenchiik assassins?”

“If you had asked me that question a few days ago, I’d say no. But now, I’m forced to consider that it was the Gray Men, or whoever is pulling the strings of our government. By the way, how do you know I’m not going straight to them after this meeting?”

Richter said, “Sergeant Scrivener said you were a man of honor. He doesn’t believe you had anything to do with the decision to leave them to rot on Tartarus. Between that and the fact that we just returned the survivors to you, we’re confident that you’ll at least hear us out.”

“Hear you out for what?”

“The idea of resetting the Thesprotians on Alnair,” said John. “Sergeant Clerk already told us he doesn’t think it’s possible to do so without the full cooperation of your government, Gray Men or no Gray Men.”

“He’s right. You could put them in the middle of nowhere, but eventually they would be found. Though I would’ve never thought anyone would resort to mass murder to keep the tragedy of Tartarus a secret, I also never would’ve imagined such a tragedy happening in the first place.”

Vecky said, “And yet, at the time it happened, the allied countries who built the research facility managed to scrub any record of the Thesprotians from your history books.”

“I can’t say I don’t understand why. At that time, our adversaries could have used the disaster as a pretext for war. Keeping it a secret may have prevented half of the planet being nuked out of existence.”

“We can speculate about that all day,” said John. “Now we need to focus on the possibility of getting the planetary government on board with resettlement efforts, with full disclosure to the public.”

“Full disclosure? Are you insane?”

“It’s the only way the Thesprotians would ever be safe there.”

“I suppose that’s true.”

“Sergeant Clerk said the message can’t come from us, or the government will deny it and the people will believe them.”

“He’s right. It’s an outrageous claim. I’m sorry, but what you’re proposing is simply impossible.”

“He also said a military coup is out of the question.”

“Also right. You’d have to convince every ship captain and garrison commander simultaneously. Even a small number of dissenters would be disastrous.”

Christie spoke next. “What if we were able to flush out and eliminate the Gray Men?”

Hadar scoffed. “I have no fucking clue how to do that. As I said, a few days ago I thought they were nothing more than a myth.”

She leaned forward in her chair. “Have you noticed anything unusual about me?”

“You look like a perfectly normal Terran, assuming that Scherer, Richter, Brockway, Ferro, Mungavin, and Dietrich are also perfectly normal Terrans.”

“Ferro and I are androids. Fully synthetic.”

“Impressive. I’m not sure what your point is, though.”

“We were built by a company called Verisimilitude Android Designs, based on Secundus. However, we also have very powerful scanning and replication technology. We’ve been working on being able to replicate our own models, though so far, the results have been less than satisfactory. With a little bit more work, we should be able to create a remotely-controlled android that could quite convincingly pass for anyone. So, the most obvious candidate to infiltrate the Gray Men would be the president of Alnair. We’d just have to get close enough to scan him and get a decent recording of his voice.”

Hadar barked a laugh. “Ha! Sure, no problem. But even then, what are you going to do with the real president? Abduct him?”

“Exactly,” said John. “We have the technology to interrogate him without harming a hair on his head. Between that information and our doppelganger, if the Gray Men exist, we’ll find them.”

“Doppel ganger?”

“Twin. The android copy.”

“Ah. That’s incredibly ambitious, but you don’t need my help to get close to the president. He makes frequent public appearances. His security team might kill you, but you can find him nonetheless.”

Vecky said, “Just point us in the right direction, and stay out of the way. That’s all we really need from you.”

Hadar shrugged. “I guess. I’m still confused, though. If you have a viable plan for resettling the natives on Eniph, why go through that much trouble?”

Cynthia said, “As Scherer told you, it will take months to accomplish that. In the meantime, the Thesprotians are living in substandard conditions, and we’re stuck guarding Tartarus against an attack if you or your compatriots get ordered to wipe them out.”

“You said you have three ships? I wouldn’t pick a fight with our fleet, cloak or no cloak.”

“We have no intention of that,” said John, “but we’ll do what we have to do to protect innocent lives. And to further answer your previous question, it’s a matter of justice. You must think so too, if you’ve decided not to interfere with our plan.”

“I won’t. Justice isn’t the only consideration, though. You have to do what’s best for the natives, too. It sounds like only a handful of them, if any, are even old enough to remember what was taken from them. Any habitable planet would be a huge upgrade from living in a damp cave for decades. Get them safe and established, and then ask them if they even want to live on Alnair, or have their story told to the populace. There’s really nowhere closer than Eniph? What about Alpha Lupi?”

“We have zero information about that system in our databases,” replied Christie. “However, as it happens, we’re about to meet up with the Leto, Wega Talyn’s ship, which is coming from Alpha Lupi. We could ask her about its viability for settlement.”

“Shouldn’t you investigate that possibility before committing to abducting and interrogating our president?”

“We will,” said John. “Anyway, it will take us several days to perfect our androids…”

“Hopefully sooner,” added Christie.

“Of course. So we’ll have plenty of time to consider all of our options. As for you, Commander Hadar, we’ll be in touch. Richter, Brockway, would you please escort the commander back to his ship?”

“Okey dokey,” said Richter, standing.

Brockway and Richter gestured for Hadar to go with them, and he followed them without another word. John looked at those who remained at the conference table.

“He’s right, you know,” said Christie. “Alpha Lupi is nine times closer than Eniph.”

“We’ll ask Wega about it when she gets here,” said John.

“You seem awfully dead-set on infiltrating Alnair’s government regardless,” said Cynthia. “Need I remind you, we’re not the galaxy police.”

“I understand if you’re having second thoughts.”

“I didn’t say that,” she snapped. “What happened to the Thesprotians is incredibly fucked up, never mind the wholesale slaughter of the prison population. You don’t have to remind me. But Hadar is right, if we can relocate the natives to Alpha Lupi, we should.”

John stood up. “Give us the room.”

“Excuse me?” asked Christie, irritated. “Since when do we keep things from each other?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” said Vecky.

“This is between Colonel Dietrich and I,” said John. “Captain Kitsune, as commander of the Fox, you can stay.”

Vecky folded her arms across her chest. “That’s very gracious of you, Commander.”

“I just don’t think everyone needs to listen to me have an argument with Dietrich. If you really want to be subjected to it, then stay.”

No one moved. John sighed, and sat back down.

“We can’t let our emotions get the best of us,” said Christie. “We all want justice for the Thesprotians, the prisoners, even the marines that died down there, but eliminating the Gray Men is not without risk.”

“Of course not, but we’ve accomplished missions a thousand times more difficult. Captain Kitsune, are you having second thoughts as well?”

“I’m not the one you want to be asking about the wisdom of revenge,” Vecky replied.

Cynthia said, “Though I’ve been entertaining the insanity of this idea only because we’ve got some time to talk about it, I think it’s time to put my foot down. NASA agreed to have the Percheron accompany the Faith on a rescue mission, with which we succeeded. As captain, I’m refusing to involve the Percheron with infiltrating the Alnairian government without express permission from NASA. If they don’t agree, then once Chason Talyn has been reunited with his sister, I’m taking my ship back to Earth. Y’all can do what you want after that.”

“Then you should probably contact them now,” said John.

Cynthia stood up. “I’ll do that. By your leave, of course, Commander Scherer.”

John didn’t reply. She exited the conference room toward the bridge.

“Can’t you both just admit that you’re in love with each other?” asked Mike.

“There’s no way NASA is going to approve your plan,” Christie said to John.

John nodded. “I know that. The only thing I can ask of you is that you pass along any data you have about replicating androids to Ari, if you haven’t already.”

“She knows what I know.”

“Correct,” said Ari. “Still, we should work on it together with whatever time we have left.”

The ship shuddered slightly, and the terrain outside the windows began to shift. Christie stood up.

“We’re underway. John, I think you need to find a middle ground with Dietrich if you want the Percheron to stay. For example, why not replace Secretary Tailor instead of the president? It might be less risky.”

“What’s the ETA for the Leto?” he asked.

“Should be about twenty-four hours from now.”

“Then I’ll work on a tactical plan with Richter and Ari on nabbing the president, with an emphasis on caution. If Alpha Lupi isn’t a viable option, then I’ll present that plan plus the alternative you just suggested to Dietrich. Hopefully by then she’ll agree to one of them.”

“I wouldn’t hold your breath.”

__________

Richter sighed, and set his huge frame into a couch after yet another hour of waiting around Secretary Tailor’s home, while wearing an android version of the Alnairian’s body, and for the most part, not enjoying it. Though he had volunteered to be the puppet master for their well-crafted and expensive piece of bait, he had hoped he wouldn’t have to inhabit it for much longer. He had become quite skilled at controlling an android, but it was still deeply unsettling for him to glance in a mirror, or look down at himself, and not see his own flesh and blood.

He was not alone inside the house. Evangeline, Arianna, and Kyrie were there as well, to help do the dirty work should the android survive the day. The plan, which was responsible for convincing Captain Dietrich to keep the Percheron around a while longer, was to force an encounter with the Gray Men by posing as Tailor, and making it as obvious as possible that the man had returned home. Based on what the real Tailor had told them, being spotted leaving the presidential estate would likely prompt another visit from his shadowy overseers, regardless of whether or not they actually knew why he was there.

So, the Reckless Faith had dropped Richter and his corpulent avatar just outside the palatial building, and followed him as he procured an air taxi from there to his home in the suburbs of Lucidus. Uninterrupted, the ship then dropped off a team to back him up inside the residence, and took up a spot nearby, hidden as usual by its invisibility shield. That was three hours earlier. In the meantime, the Leto had arrived, and arranged to meet with the Fox at the heliopause of the solar system, some one hundred AU distant. Chason and Wega were doubtlessly having an emotional reunion there, and everyone was eager to hear about the viability of Alpha Lupi as a new home for the Thesprotians.

Eva, Ari, and Kyrie must have been just as bored as Richter. Eva was camped out in the den, with the curtains drawn, while Ari and Kyrie were waiting at the top of the main staircase, just out of sight of anyone below. Richter had soon occupied himself by activating the large wall-mounted monitor in the living room, and exploring what passed for entertainment and news on Alnair. Unsurprisingly, there was no mention anywhere of the recent drama on Tartarus. He had resorted to watching some kind of contemporary medical drama when John’s voice echoed in his ear.

“Heads-up,” he began. “An unmarked ground vehicle has just stopped in the driveway. Three figures are getting out.”

“Finally,” uttered Richter, standing up.

Uncharacteristically, he was unarmed, in the off chance the agents might use it as an excuse to shoot first and ask questions later. He simply waited for the front door to open, which it did a few seconds later. In came three Alnairians, dressed in black suits, looking more like they were there for a wake than an interrogation. He did his best to seem crestfallen as the trio spread out and approached him.

“I thought I was done with you people,” he offered.

“And I thought I made myself clear,” replied the first man, his right hand near his beltline.

“I’m still the secretary of defense. It would be rather suspicious if I didn’t keep up my regular duties.”

“Did the president summon you specifically, or did you take it upon yourself to manufacture a reason to visit?”

“What does it matter? I didn’t tell him anything. Your damnable secrets are safe with me, regardless of how much it might sting my pride to keep them.”

“You’ll have to remind me what those secrets are.”

Richter rolled his eyes. “Are you kidding? As if the threat of revealing my personal dalliances wasn’t enough to secure my silence, I’m not weary of living, either. The truth of Tartarus will remain in your hands.”

The first man glanced at his companions, and Richter knew instantly that he had made a critical mistake. He held his hand to his side, and fanned his fingers out, showing a pre-determined signal to his friends that he had been compromised. Moving like demons, Eva, Ari, and Kyrie emerged from their hiding places, and all three of them wasted no time in firing their plasma rifles. The shots found their targets easily enough, immediately felling their foes. Richter managed to get his oversized frame out of the living room quickly, and relieved the Alnairians of their sidearms.

“Check their pulses,” said Eva, keeping the muzzle of her rifle on them.

“The stun mode seems to have worked,” said Ari as she arrived. “They’re still breathing.”

Kyrie keyed his radio. “Reckless Faith, this is the ground team, we’re ready to extract three tangoes to the ship, over.”

“Copy that,” said John’s voice. “We’re taking her down between their van and the house.”

Almost imperceptible from inside the building, the team could hear the Faith descend and come to a rest outside. A second later, someone on the ship opened up with the ventral GAU 19/A. A quick glance out of the nearest window showed Richter that at least two more men had exited the vehicle in the driveway, only to be cut down by a furious burst from the .50-caliber gun. If there was anyone left inside the van, they were also thoroughly ventilated.

“Fuck ‘em,” spat Richter.

“The LZ is clear for the moment. Extract your quarry at your leisure.”

“Roger that,” replied Kyrie, and bent down to grab one of the other men.

Together, Richter and his team dragged the three Alnairians out of the front door. The cargo ramp on the Faith began to open, revealing the interior. Though several of Tailor’s neighbors had stepped outside to get a view of the ruckus, all they could see was who appeared to be Tailor and a group of aliens emerge from the house, only to disappear seconds later. Once everyone was clear of the ramp’s threshold, Richter again activated his radio.

“We’re on board, exfil now!” he barked.

The Faith took off, and whoever was piloting it swiveled the ship around as the ramp closed, giving the team a brief sight of the burning van and mutilated corpses next to it. Their last glimpse was of fighter craft screaming in from a high altitude. With a hiss of air as the pressure equalized, the ramp closed, casting the cargo bay into silence.

Legacy of the Centaur (RFVIII), Chapter 16

Spoiler alert: This is the work-in-progress of the 8th book in the Reckless Faith series. You may read the prologue here: https://devonai.wordpress.com/2023/10/31/reckless-faith-viii-prologue/

It had been a whirlwind of a full day for the crews of the Reckless Faith, the Percheron, and the Fox. They had accomplished a lot in the last 24 hours, not the least of which was learning how to communicate with the 250 surviving Thesprotians, and keeping them relatively calm while the prison could be cleaned up. Overcoming the language barrier had been easy once the version of Christie on the Percheron was reunited with her android body, and had access to her full computational powers. Explaining to the cold, wet, and grieving natives that they had to stay put for several hours was a little bit more of a challenge. Ultimately, they were able to supply the sudden refugees with a few basic survival items, such as food, water, and blankets, which mollified them for the time being.

It had taken a combined team from all three ships, ferried down by the Faith, seven hours to clear out the bodies of the slaughtered prisoners, guards, and staff. It had been decided to consolidate the corpses in the dining facility, not only because it was large enough to accommodate all of them, but also because the bulk of the victims were already there. Hardly a respectful way to inter the bodies, and certainly not a long-term solution, it would have otherwise taken several more hours to move them anywhere else. As for sustenance, the Faith had simply replicated hundreds of MREs and plastic water bottles, and the team staged them in the commissary.

Once that grim task was complete, the Thesprotians were allowed to occupy the prison. There were more than enough beds for all of them, and access to proper bathrooms, showers, and a medical bay. Christie, after speaking with the few natives that had something resembling a leadership role, had learned that Kheiron had been helping them for as long as anyone could remember, and while he wasn’t seen as a god in the strictest sense, they revered him as one. He had promised to free them someday, but made it clear that the surface of Tartarus would never be habitable again. Though so far they seemed amenable to being evacuated to another planet, Christie could tell they didn’t really understand what a spaceship was, or how far away they might have to go. The allies could only hope that they didn’t freak out when the time came.

The three marine survivors had been transferred to the Percheron. Master Sergeant Scrivener had been stabilized, and Doctor Sakura believed he would eventually make a full recovery. It was fortunate for him that the Percheron had adequate medical facilities, as it was unknown when, if at all, he and his men would be able to return to Alnair. The mystery ship, which had transported the Tenchiik to the planet, had disappeared soon after the cavern was flooded. If any of the Kau’Rii assassins had made it out alive, the allies would probably never know. That left the Faith with unimpeded access to the surface, but everyone was keenly aware that the Bidelman might return at any moment, likely with serious backup next time. When asked about the possibility of reconciliation, or even resettling the Thesprotians on Alnair, Secretary Tailor had expressed very little confidence that either of those things would ever happen. That left the allies with only one clear course of action. Though most of them were exhausted, one last order of business needed to be discussed that day.

The commanders of all three ships had gathered in the conference room on the Percheron. Sergeant Clerk had been invited to attend in lieu of Scrivener, and he sat somberly in the corner of the room, nursing a cup of tea. He, like everyone else, had showered and changed into more comfortable clothing.

“I’m sure we’d all rather be getting some shut-eye,” began John. “First, we need to figure out which of our allies in this region would be the most willing to accept two hundred and fifty refugees. My suggestion is Eniph, I feel like they owe us the greatest favor.”

“I agree,” said Cynthia.

“Isn’t there a problem with the distance?” asked Vecky, looking at her PDA. “It’s 921 light-years from here. Eniph’s fastest ship could get here in four months, tops.”

Christie’s voice could be heard over the intercom. “She’s right. The fastest any of Eniph’s ships can muster is 2500 c.”

John said, “Christie, weren’t you going to go offline for a while?”

“I’ve been reviewing the files we were able to salvage from the labs underneath Inferno. I’ve made a breakthrough there. Not to bury the lede here, but Kheiron was a filthy liar.”

“Kheiron,” muttered Clerk. “Whatever happened to that fucker?”

“Presumed dead,” replied John. “He was last seen struggling to climb up a rope ladder during the flood of the cavern. Adeler is confident that he drowned there.”

“Too bad.”

“Christie, what you said is super interesting, and we’ll circle back to it, but for now, let’s stick to the topic at hand. So, we’ve already discussed the possibility of the Faith ferrying the Thesprotians to the nearest willing planet, just as we did with the human abductees from the Swan. Assuming Eniph, and a maximum load of fifty refugees, that’s what?”

“Five trips, ten hours round-trip,” said Christie. “Not including dilation effects, and the time it will take to load up and drop off.”

“Five hours?” asked Clerk. “You must be joking.”

“The Faith’s top speed is 1.56 million c,” said John. “No joke. Christie, what about time dilation?”

Christie said, “Assuming you’re coming back here after your last trip to Eniph, ninety days would pass here in the Alnair system.”

“I take it dilations effects are more pronounced the faster you go?”

“Correct. At our top speed, the ratio is a little more than forty-three to one.”

“So the shuttle method saves us about a month,” began John. “I still don’t like it; that’s a lot of time for just the Percheron and the Fox to be standing guard against the whole Alnairian fleet.”

“If the Antares ever shows up, they can also accommodate fifty passengers. That would cut the total time back and forth to Eniph by forty percent,” said Cynthia.

“That’s true, the Antares is as fast as the Faith. Christie, reach out to them again. But even with their help, that’s fifty-four days with your asses hanging out in the breeze. Anything can happen while the Faith is gone. I think we should consider forcing Alnair to accept the refugees. We could hijack one or more of their communication satellites, and blast out the truth about Inferno to the whole planet. If the government can’t keep that secret anymore, they’ll have no choice but to accept and care for the Thesprotians. Sergeant Clerk, am I right?”

Clerk shrugged. “Maybe? I’m not sure. A conspiracy like this is unprecedented on our planet. The government is well-liked and trusted. If they choose to deny it, most citizens will very probably side with them. Then the same people that ordered Admiral Butcher to abandon us below will order the fleet to shoot down any of your vessels that attempt to land.”

“What if we were able to sneak them down?” asked Vecky. “One thing that I noticed after a few visits to your planet was that there are huge wilderness preserves on most continents. Some of them have geographical centers that are so far from the nearest settlement that two hundred and fifty people could easily disappear there. They’d have to eschew any form of technology that could be detected from the air, but subsistence living would be possible.”

“That might work for a short time. A few years, even. But we’d have to assume that they’d be detected eventually. Then what?”

“You tell us,” said Cynthia. “If the Gray Men have as much power as you presume, I’m sure they could arrange to have the entire settlement destroyed without the civil authority finding out.”

“That was kind of my point.”

“What percentage of the Alnairian fleet would have to be involved to pull off a coup?”

Clerk was shocked. “All of them! All the percentages! That’s insane. If even one of the battleships or a few of the heavy cruisers didn’t fall in line, you’d be looking at a catastrophic civil war. It might help if every fleet officer was convinced of the truth about Inferno, but even then, careful planning would be needed. It would take years.”

“I had to ask. So it looks like we’re back to Plan A. Let’s sleep on it and talk to our crews in eight hours. Now then, Christie, you mentioned that Kheiron was less than forthcoming with his version of events.”

“Oh my, yes,” Christie replied. “He told Malthus Brewer that the main purpose of the research facility under Inferno was to alter the planet’s orbit in order to aid in a slingshot method for their nascent FTL ships. As I’m sure most of you could have guessed, that reeks of utter bullshit. The truth is much more sinister, and even though I had to piece together dozens of badly fragmented files to find it, I’m completely sure I know what was really going on here.”

“You have our attention. Go on.”

“Kheiron had arrived on Alnair long before the surface of Tartarus had been touched by outside hands. I’m not sure how long ago, but it was at least sixty years. Though my records aren’t definitive, it’s possible that Kheiron was Alnair’s first contact with an extraterrestrial. It would be interesting to learn that he was in some part, if not directly, responsible for their FTL technology, but that’s irrelevant at the moment. At some point, Kheiron offered to help them access the plane of existence that so far has been limited to the Kira’To and the Chimeras. The facility on Tartarus was constructed toward that end.”

“Holy shit,” muttered Cynthia.

“Why?” asked John. “We know that individual Kira’To have strayed from the role that the rest of them would prefer they have in our universe, but this is something else.”

“I can’t answer that,” replied Christie. “We do know that they’ve mistreated their own kind, as we saw with the Stymphalian Raptors. Kheiron may have had a similar axe to grind. Anyway, the information I have gets awfully sketchy from there. I’m not sure exactly what the facility below was meant to do, but it definitely involved neutrinos and is also definitely what caused the cascading greenhouse effect that scorched the atmosphere.”

“So at least part of what he said was true,” said Vecky.

“A lie wrapped in a truth is easier to believe,” said John.

“Then I hope he did drown yesterday. And I hope it hurt the whole time he was dying.”

“Is there anything else you found that could be useful to us?”

“Not yet,” said Christie. “I’d love to be able to find out what abilities Kheiron claimed to be able to impart on the Alnairians, and how we might make use of it, but I strongly suspect that possibility died with him. I’ll keep at it, though.”

“Fair enough. Don’t try too hard. We’ve got enough to worry about as it is.”

Cynthia said, “It’s possible Kheiron had his own agenda. If he was a pariah, being punished for some reason like Aquila and Cygnus, he may have needed the resources of the Alnairians to exact his revenge.”

“Again, a fair point, but it doesn’t change our current problem.”

“I didn’t say it did, just that it’s a possible explanation. Christie, if there’s nothing else, I’d love to call it a day and spend several hours unconscious.”

“Colonel Dietrich is right. We’ve seen enough blood and suffering for one day. Let’s start it all over again tomorrow.”

__________

Alpha Lupi, also known to some as the South Gate, was the host of an arid desert world, a planet second in orbit from the star. Unusual in the fact that there was no intelligent life native to the planet, while still offering a breathable atmosphere and several fecund oases on the shores of its oceans, it was an attractive hideout for people like Wega Talyn.

Wega’s recent dealings in the sector hadn’t exactly made her a persona non grata elsewhere, but were risky enough to compel her to return to her preferred base of operations to bide her time until she thought it was safe to resume her normal way of life. Such a self-imposed exile might have been intolerable if not for the luxuries she had ensured were available at her ersatz redoubt. She and the crew of her ship both wanted for nothing at the camp she had situated within a grove of palm trees, an attractive site that overlooked an expansive river delta on the western shore of the planet’s northern continent.

In addition to being able to use her ship’s galley and sanitary facilities, the location also offered cabanas, hammocks, fresh water springs, edible fruits, and an endless supply of sea life for those willing to kill and prepare it. Anyone pursuing the goal of solitary retirement would find it an excellent choice as a permanent home, but Wega and her crew were far from that point in their careers. Since free communication among her people was always something she encouraged, there was no ignoring the fact that the deal that forced them to hide on Lupus was intensely unpopular. Despite her reassurances, their stay in that paradise was fated to end long earlier than she would have preferred.

The portend of that fate appeared as a brief message that arrived on her PDA in the afternoon, as she swayed lazily in a hammock under a canvas awning, her hands clasping a strong drink made from fermented cane sugar. She tried to dig her PDA out from a side pocket without spilling her glass or upending the hammock, which was more challenging than she would have guessed. Successful, she looked at the text message on the screen, and her jaw dropped.

“I’m free,” it read.

Though there was no name assigned to the SRC frequency that carried the message to her, the fact that it had four decimal points as opposed to the usual one indicated that it was an ultra-long range channel, used by only a handful of people that she knew. This time, it could only be one person.

“Chason,” she whispered to herself.

Wega’s intention was to carefully place her glass on the sandy ground, and gracefully flip her legs over the side of the woven hammock. Instead, her drink cast itself in a slow parabola on its way to the ground, and her body met the dirt face-first as the hammock rebounded toward the sky. Improbably, the glass hit her in the back of her head. Smelling equally of a dive bar and sunscreen lotion, she scrambled to her feet, futilely trying to brush the sticky liquid from the fur on her shoulders, and headed toward the near side of the delta where her ship, the Tigress, was parked. On her way down the idyllic hillside, she scanned the other cabanas to see if she could spot anyone else from her crew. They were all vacant.

The Tigress was a Matesian light cruiser, purchased for a song after the fleet had deemed it to be obsolescent. Four decks, and a hundred meters long, it rested over the west branch of the river like a monolithic cliff, blocking out any view of the opposite side. When Wega had first purchased it, the Tigress had been stripped of all weaponry, necessitating a spending spree at Vastus and a couple of other systems in order to outfit it properly for the purpose of self-defense. Even though the high-yield lasers and HVAP projectile cannons and turrets it sported were poorly-suited for offensive operations, such a thing was beyond the scope of what a single ship could accomplish anyway.

Equal parts Matesian fleet veterans, Secundian ne’er-do-wells, and Eaglite malcontents, altogether the crew of thirteen was just barely adequate to man a craft of that size, but under Wega’s command, they made it work. The sight of her ship always filled her with pride, and that afternoon, she almost forgot about the rum and sand that desperately needed to be washed from her body. Sleek and streamlined in appearance, with gray and blue livery, the Tigress managed to be both attractive and unassuming at the same time, traits that often worked in Wega’s favor. As the vessel loomed in her field of vision, she activated the radio app on her PDA.

“Captain Talyn to all hands,” she began, “if you’re not already on board, get there. Meet in the conference room in twenty; we’re touching off in thirty, out.”

Keyed into a passive signal from her PDA, the forward port-side ramp began to lower upon her arrival to the ship. Entering a small airlock, she turned toward a wall-mounted console, and checked the current manifest. Everyone else was already on board. With her status automatically marked to show the same, Wega was free to take a lift to the top deck to her quarters, where she took a quick shower. That done, she dried off with a hand-held air dryer, groomed her body with an electro-brush, and donned her duty vestments. The drab green flight suit wasn’t fancy, but it was all she needed on board.

She arrived at the conference room with one minute to spare. The rest of her crew was waiting for her, all seated around a large table. All of them were ready to go, except for Pictner, her Matesian chief engineer. He was still wearing a damp pair of swim trunks, and sported a rather obvious sunburn on the front of his body. Normally, Wega would have inquired upon his well-being with such an injury, but she was far too eager to share her news.

“The Fox came through for us,” she began. “Chason sent me a text message. He’s free from that accursed prison.”

Vesther, her Secundian first officer, leapt up from her chair and embraced her captain, an awkward pose considering Wega was still seated. She returned the hug, best she could from that angle, and smiled.

“What about our payment?” asked Harrey, her Eaglite head of security.

“Always the pragmatist,” replied Wega. “No word about the second part of Alnair’s blood money. I’ve already told all of you we shouldn’t expect them to come across with it.”

“I’m sure his freedom is payment enough,” said Vesther.

“Assuming Captain Talyn puts him to work for us,” said Harrey, shifting his massive frame in his seat.

Wega shook her head. “That’s up to him. No one can force him to join our crew. Anyway, we’ll figure it out soon enough. Our next move is to contact Captain Kitsune and confirm that the text is legitimate. Since I’m quite sure it is, we’ll be making our best speed to Zeta Centauri immediately. If the Fox wants to meet us halfway, that would be fine, too.”

“What about the Kira’To?”

“Who cares? The only thing that matters is that Alnair was stupid enough to buy into the recent galactic panic over the alleged threat, and paid us to help them get to him. Don’t overthink an easy paycheck.”

“Captain, a word?” asked Vesther.

“Of course. Everyone else, man your stations. We touch off in five minutes.”

The rest of the crew stood up and exited the conference room. Wega crossed to the pot of yutha on a small table in the corner, and evaluated its freshness.

“I’ve been waiting to ask you this question,” began Vesther. “Now that Chason is safe, I want to know how much you really care for him. Many of us have the same concern I do.”

She grabbed a mostly clean mug, and filled it with the cold, black liquid from the decanter. “That I would use my own brother as a pawn in a business dealing.”

“Yes.”

The yutha was barely palatable. “Of course I care for him, Vesther. My concern for his situation was real; there was never any doubt in my mind that he was innocent of the crime for which he was convicted, even if ultimately it had been several years since we were last together. It’s not in his nature to murder. Anyway, Alnair being suckered into believing that all Kira’To were an existential threat, based on nothing more than second-hand reports, and their subsequent bounty on Kheiron, was pure kismet. The Fox and their friends accomplished something that the Tigress never could, and were Chason’s best hope for freedom.”

Vesther leaned against the bulkhead. “It just seems like if all of that were true, you would have been at Tartarus, backing up the Fox, rather than all of us biding our time here soaking up sunlight and drunk half the time.”

“That’s fair, Commander, but you don’t know everything. One of the conditions for me hiring the Fox was Kitsune sharing a reasonable amount about the abilities of their allied ships. She told me the Fox was working with a ship that had Umberian invisibility shields, and they would be working on the actual extraction of Chason from Inferno.”

“The Reckless Faith? Why didn’t you just say so? That might have prevented some of Harrey and the other Eaglite’s griping all this time if they had known.”

Wega grimaced as she gulped down another brackish mouthful of ancient yutha. “Bleh. Because I don’t monitor the personal correspondence of my crew, you know that. This operation was sensitive enough that I couldn’t risk one of our Eaglite friends blabbing about the involvement of the Reckless Faith. It’s not that I don’t trust them, just that even an inadvertent slip could have spelled disaster.”

Vesther crossed her arms. “I don’t like finding out about things like this after-the-fact, Captain.”

“I know. I hope you’ll understand in time. For now, let’s get to the bridge. Despite all of this, I am quite eager to see my brother.”

Continue reading: https://devonai.wordpress.com/2024/03/18/legacy-of-the-centaur-rf-viii-chapter-17/