David Kantrowitz's Blog, page 6

Progress Update: Shadow of the Chimera (RF VII)

Progress on the 7th book in the Reckless Faith series, Shadow of the Chimera, has reached over 80% of the total projected length. In anticipation of its publication, I’m removing all but the prologue and first two chapters from my blog. The entire work-in-progress will still be available upon request to those interested in providing feedback, so let me know if you want to help out.

Shadow of the Chimera (Reckless Faith VII), Chapter 20

Spoiler alert: This is a new entry for the 7th book in the Reckless Faith series. The prologue may be found here: https://devonai.wordpress.com/2022/12/15/reckless-faith-vii-prologue/

“That’s it! We’re in.”

With Ari’s victorious exclamation, the door to the operations center unlocked with a click, and she slid it open. She, Eva, and Fuyue moved inside, and immediately deactivated their IR systems, as the room was already illuminated. Overhead fluorescent lights were the source, though most of them were either dead or working on it. The pale, flickering light was particularly disorienting for Ari, having become accustomed to the augmented, but stable, IR spectrum. She and her companions took stock of the area.

As with its smaller counterpart several floors above, the control room offered no surprises. Each wall was lined with consoles, and there were two rows of computer stations in the middle. Large monitors were placed on three sides of the room, and seemed to absorb what little light there was within their black screens. Curiously, this area was far less dusty than those previous to it, though it still appeared unperturbed for a long time.

“It’s much warmer in here, relatively speaking,” said Eva. “Above freezing, anyway.”

The trio lifted their visors, and breathed in the stale air.

Ari peered at her PDA. “One more stairwell, and we’ll be at the reactor room.”

The door to the stairwell was at the opposite side of the room, so they crossed to it. The door, which consisted of two halves that slid into the wall on either side, had a thick, wavy, and uneven line down the center.

“It looks like this door has been welded shut,” said Eva. “I don’t suppose either of you brought an acetylene torch?”

“There’s also an elevator,” replied Ari, gesturing to their right.

A smaller door that looked more like access to a storage closet was there. The control panel was dead, so Ari worked her fingers into the frame and wrenched it open. A dark shaft lay beyond. She activated the light on her Phalanx, and they looked inside.

“The cables have been cut,” said Eva, looking upward.

Below, the top of the car could be seen, some fifty meters down. The remnants of a metal ladder were crumpled on it.

“Do you have any rope?” asked Ari.

“No.”

“I’ve got twenty-five meters,” said Ari, “but that’s only going to get us about halfway down. I don’t think any of us could sustain the rest of the drop without injury. Fuyue, any tricks up your sleeve?”

“Though there are stories of Archons defying gravity in one way or another, I haven’t had that sort of training.”

Eva gestured back toward the consoles. “There could be electrical or network cabling under the floor that we might use.”

They went back into the room, and investigated the backs of the consoles in the center. Ari unlimbered her rucksack, and retrieved a multi-tool. She used the flat-head screwdriver attachment to pry off an access panel, and pointed her flashlight inside the cabinet.

“There’s plenty of wiring back here,” she said, tugging on some of it. “Some of it seems sturdy enough to support our weight. If we can find the other end at the periphery of this room, we’d only need two lengths to get to the bottom of the shaft.”

“It would take us awhile to find wherever they converge.”

“Let me help with that,” said Fuyue. “I can already sense that most of these consoles are still receiving power.”

He closed his eyes, and pointed to a spot where the far wall met the ceiling. Eva grabbed a small desk and dragged it over, then climbed on top and lifted up a panel.

“There is a rather thick cluster of cables up here,” she said, “but I can’t tell which ones are data and which are power.”

“Does it matter?” asked Ari.

“It does if I don’t want to get electrocuted cutting them.”

Ari hefted her carbine to her shoulder. “Then get out of the way.”

“No, don’t…” Fuyue stuttered.

Eva leaped off the desk and got herself well clear of the area, then Ari sent a twelve-round burst into the panel. After a shower of sparks and debris, what was left of the ceiling panel collapsed onto the desk. Eva shined her flashlight upward, revealing a jagged stump of severed cables.

“Good work, but let’s hope there’s not a fire.”

“This place is solid concrete,” she replied, “I think we’ll be fine.”

Fuyue scowled. “We must be within earshot of the reactor room. A racket like that isn’t going to do anything to endear us to the Kira’To.”

“I don’t see any other way of getting down there.”

Returning to the console she had opened, Ari yanked on the end of the wires, pulling them down the inside of the wall and through the unseen conduit under the floor. Then, she ripped them from the back of the console. Eva and Fuyue helped her separate the cables that they wanted from the ones they didn’t. In the end, blue cables with plastic sheathing looked like the best bet. They laid it out on the floor so they could measure it.

Eva said, “We have enough here that we can braid two lengths together.”

“I don’t think we have time for that. If you’re really worried about it, I can go down alone.”

“How much do you weigh?”

Ari jabbed her with her elbow. “Less than you.”

“If you’re worried about it,” began Fuyue, “then I’ll go first. I’m going to have to take off my EVA suit, though, I’m not strong enough to rappel down there with it on.”

“That’s probably going to be true for all of us,” said Eva.

“I can handle it,” said Ari. “In fact, it makes the most sense for me to go first. If the line can hold me, it can hold either of you .”

“Fine, let’s get on with it.”

Ari retrieved the 25 meters of rope she had in her rucksack, and they tied it off to the cable. Then, they looped one end around a desk that was bolted to the floor, and dropped the other end down the elevator shaft. Fuyue and Eva removed their suits, and Eva grabbed her Raptor Industries jacket, a fleece beanie, and flight gloves from her bag, along with a black fleece jacket that she offered to Fuyue. He graciously accepted it.

When they were done donning their garments, Ari approached the threshold of the shaft. She cracked a chemlight and tossed it down, then got on her stomach, carefully slid her lower body down, and grabbed onto the line. She looped the rope around her legs, creating a mechanical brake, and began her descent. Though the line made some disconcerting groaning sounds, she made it to the top of the car without incident, and gave the others a thumbs-up.

“Fuyue, you’re up,” said Eva.

The man had watched how Ari had tucked the length of the rope around her leg and under her heel, and did the same to control his movement. He took a bit longer to get there, but made it. Eva took her turn, and the trio was reunited. Ari had already cleared the debris from the top of the car, and found the access hatch, so she opened it. Eva’s flashlight revealed nothing inside, and they dropped down. They each took a moment to check their weapons and gear, then investigated the exit. Ari was able to slide the double-doors open about an inch.

“Both of you, get on the other side,” she said.

Together, they forced the door open, revealing a short corridor that opened up into a large, dark area. They proceeded forward, checking every corner, until reaching a cavernous space. Their flashlights struggled to penetrate the depths of the chamber, but they hadn’t taken half a dozen steps before Fuyue and Eva stopped in their tracks.

“It’s here,” Eva whispered.

“I feel it too,” said Fuyue quietly. “Ferro?”

“All I feel is the rope burn on my palms,” Ari replied.

“I’ll stay in front. Make sure all of your weapons are stowed. Miss Adeler, keep your staff in your hand like a walking stick.”

Eva could see that Fuyue was doing the same, and followed his lead. As they proceeded, they could make out a massive form looming ahead. It soon revealed itself to be the reactor for the facility, a metallic grey hulk reminiscent of a giant subway car. Further scrutiny showed them that it wasn’t that different from others of its kind that they’d encountered, but oriented horizontally rather than vertically. Despite that other areas of the facility were receiving power, this device showed no indication of activity.

Fuyue gestured for them to spread out a bit. He and Eva seemed to be particularly on edge, and while Ari had no experience with the Sortarius, she knew Eva well enough to know that there was a palpable danger there, even if she couldn’t sense it herself. She could only hope that her instructions to keep her carbine slung and her sidearm secure wouldn’t prove to be a fatal mistake. As they looked for a way around a cluster of large, corrugated power conduits that lay before them, Eva gasped.

Ari and Fuyue quickly spotted the object of her attention. A humanoid stood between the branches of a conduit that split from the reactor, and stared at them with unblinking eyes. Ari drew in a sharp breath in shock, as the form of the creature was familiar to her, though not from any of her many adventures, but rather her time on Earth. With a large, almond-shaped head, large, black, oval eyes, gray skin, and short in stature, it could only be one thing: a Sectoid.

It took every reserve of willpower for Ari not to unlimber her Phalanx and blast the alien into ichor. Though she felt a terror in her chest that went as deep as her very DNA, she managed to keep enough of her wits to try to look unthreatening. She glanced at Fuyue, who had extended his left hand in front of him, his palm facing the entity.

“Kira’To,” he began evenly, “I am Sheng Fuyue, of the Sortarii. It is I with whom you spoke not long ago.”

In the blink of an eye, Ari found herself somewhere else. It was the City of the Eagle, as it had appeared the last time she was there, except now it was deserted. She knew right away that it was an illusion, and she swore to herself. The Kira’To had decided that she should not be involved in the conversation, and had removed her to a fantasy world within her own head. It was frustrating, but not entirely surprising. Knowing that she had some measure of control here, she wandered around until she found a café, and willed a cup of espresso into being on one of the patio tables. She sighed, and sat down.

As she sipped her coffee, which was better than anything she’d ever had in real life, she realized her body felt different. She couldn’t figure out why until she instinctively clutched her right arm, then her left. They were flesh and blood, not cybernetics. She realized that in this world of the mind, her form had been reverted to before the Zendreen repaired her catastrophic injuries; including replacing the limbs she had lost with cybernetics. While she didn’t remember much from the time she spent as their prisoner, and unwitting patient, what she did recall was enough to send her into a sudden panic.

Grasping the armrests of her chair, she tried to control her breathing. She focused on the deserted streets and darkened buildings around her. How she could still feel adrenaline hitting her chest like a fastball would never be known to her, although it also occurred to her that she probably didn’t need to breathe, either, and both biological sensations were just her subconscious accepting the scenario as reality. After a minute or two, she regained control of her emotions, using the aroma of the espresso to help calm herself down.

The brain within her skull and the heart that pulsed in her chest were hers: those the Zendreen had not taken from her. She tried to count her blessings. At least her soul, if such a thing really existed, was still bound to her body. One thing she had never admitted to anyone, even John, was that Christie’s transformation disturbed her to her core. No one could say with any certainty that the entity that occupied the android body was really her, or just a perfect facsimile. Such a fate seemed worse than death to Ari, though exactly why eluded her.

Not long ago, in the secondary control room off of the tunnel entrance, she had overheard a little bit of the conversation between Fuyue and John regarding Christie. The assertion of the Sortarius that she was still the same person, and that her soul was some sort of separate but intangible force, was difficult for her to believe. She suspected that Fuyue was trying to placate John, though for what reason she couldn’t guess.

Ari chuckled to herself. Though she hadn’t meant to, she had used this moment of quiet reflection and turned it into an existential crisis. She would talk to John about it later; of course, she wouldn’t admit to him the depth of her terror. Again, she sipped the espresso, and waited for the Kira’To to revive her.

_____

Eva heard the voice of the Kira’To in her head at the same moment that Ari’s body crumpled to the floor. Toneless and without emotion, it was nonetheless clear and in perfect English.

“The Lady of Iron is fine. I wish to speak only to She Who Spoke the Gospel and The Slave Who Became a Minister.”

Eva could tell from Fuyue’s expression that he was also hearing the voice.

“I assume the latter is me,” said Fuyue out loud. “What should we call you?”

“My name has not been important for a long time. If you have heard of me, it would have been by the name Scorpius.”

Fuyue shrugged. “Sorry, no. Adeler?”

“Not in that context, no,” she replied.

“We have many questions for you, if you’ll permit them.”

“I have no reason to help you,” said Scorpius. “And no reason not to. Ask if you must, and I will answer. Whatever it takes for you to leave me in peace.”

“What are the Chimeras?” asked Eva.

“The Veltflüchter? Little more than beasts, though they can be trained. They already inhabited the spectral plane when the Kira’To learned to access it eons ago. You have seen the ones I have kept here for my own protection.”

“How might we fight them?”

“Why would I tell you that?”

“I don’t mean the ones here at Perdition. I mean the ones that are guarding their ancestral home, Sadal Biham.”

“Shouldn’t they have the right to protect that place?”

“Perhaps, but they have set up a shield around the planet that has trapped the sentient, corporeal beings that evolved there later, and anyone else unfortunate enough to be there at the time. Surely a compromise could be reached.”

“And what did they say when you asked them that?”

“That’s the thing,” began Fuyue. “We have no idea how to communicate with them.”

For the first time since they’d met it, the Kira’To closed its eyes.

“Your language pains me… I believe the word is neutrinos.”

“You mean like the ones our scanners use?” asked Eva.

Scorpius hesitated again, then opened its eyes. “Yes.”

A number appeared in Eva’s head, and she thought she recognized the format. “Are you showing me a frequency?”

“Yes.”

“What language should we use?”

“Their language is unknown to you. You will have to listen, first. You will hear them.”

“And then try to translate an entirely unknown language from a binary stream?”

“Child’s play, human.”

“Gee, thanks. Fortunately we have some very smart people on our side. We’ll try it.”

“Did you want to ask about a wormhole, too?” Fuyue asked Eva.

“Of course. Scorpius, the Chimeras brought us here from Sadal Biham through a wormhole. We would like to return to the Second Arm as quickly as possible. Do you know how they did it?”

“By harnessing the power of a star. In this case, the Lucky Star of the Young Beasts.”

“Can you direct the Chimeras under your control to do the same for us, using Perdition’s star?”

“Whatever it takes for you to leave me in peace.”

“Well, we’d appreciate it. Give us some time to return to our ships and brief our allies. I will reach out to you via meditation to let you know when we’re ready.”

“As you wish. Now, please leave.”

Eva and Fuyue went over to Ari, and Eva nudged her on the shoulder. She came to immediately, and stood up, dusting herself off.

“Good chat?” she asked.

“We’ll see. Come on, we’re done here. I’d love to pick this guy’s brain some more, but we’re in a time crunch.”

“Shit, that reminds me, we never set up another transponder. The Faith could be trying to reach us. Grab one.”

Eva retrieved the last one from Ari’s rucksack, and activated it. “Reckless Faith, this is the ground team, over.”

John’s voice could be heard. “It’s about time. Are you ready to leave?”

“We’ve got to get back to the surface first, but yes. We may have good news to share. What’s your situation?”

“The Chimeras showed up, investigated the Anachronian ships, destroyed one of them, and then just a minute or two ago, disappeared again. I haven’t tried to contact the Anachronians again yet, but they may still want a fight. Do your best to get back to the surface as quickly as possible.”

“Understood. We’ll see you soon. Hopefully. Adeler out.”

Shadow of the Chimera (Reckless Faith VII), Chapter 19

Spoiler alert: This is a new entry for the 7th book in the Reckless Faith series. The prologue may be found here: https://devonai.wordpress.com/2022/12/15/reckless-faith-vii-prologue/

In a frigid corridor, ensconced under a mountain, two forces stood in standoff against each other. Most of the crew of the Reckless Faith, and a few from the Percheron, faced a smaller group of heavily armed and armored Rakhar soldiers. Though the mood was tense, the humanoids were in possession of one of their lieutenants, a man barely-conscious on a stretcher that had been carefully placed on the floor, an IV bag nestled between his upper arm and body. Any immediate violence would put him in obvious peril, so both sides held their fire. Evangeline was itching to get on with it, and wished for either a quick exchange, or a decisive firefight.

They were close enough to be heard, so John opened the conversation, speaking loudly.

“We’ve held up our end of the bargain,” he was saying. “Your man needs surgery to treat his penetrative wounds. Let’s not dally too long.”

A man at the head of the Rakhar formation replied. “What is your purpose here?”

“We’ll answer your questions if you answer ours.”

“Very well. We’ll do a one-for-one.”

“As I mentioned over the radio, we’re part of an Anachronian patrol looking for those responsible for recent incursions into our territory. And indeed, they have been found, and they destroyed our escort vessel in orbit. I strongly recommend that both of us evacuate from this place immediately. Now for my question, trooper. We already know you’re here to evaluate this facility for use in your imperial expansion. After everything that‘s happened today, do you intend to return?”

“Can you confirm that your escort ship was destroyed by Chimeras?”

“Most certainly.”

“Then no. We’re starting to wonder if they’ve got a vendetta against us.”

“Attempting to subjugate their homeworld would be a pretty damn good reason, don’t you think?”

“I suppose it would. I’m just a grunt: I don’t really care; except I’d prefer to be sent on missions that make a difference.”

“It sounds like we could be friends under different circumstances. You should know that we expect a significant Anachronian force to arrive within the hour. If you’d rather not answer their questions, then it would behoove you to take your lieutenant and get the hell out of here.”

“Leave him where he rests, and retreat back down the corridor.”

John turned to the others. “You heard him.”

The allied team backed off until the curve of the hallway blocked the lieutenant and his stretcher from their view. Weapons at the ready, they waited, until the voice of Rakhar soldier crackled in their helmets.

“Go in peace. I hope you fare better against the Chimeras then we have.”

Ray said, “I almost feel bad that we’ve led them to believe that they had anything to do with the presence of the Chimeras here.”

“You don’t think they did?” asked Ari.

“I mean, I think it’s far more likely that we’re responsible for them showing up.”

“It’s all just speculation,” said John. “Whatever the reason, let’s just be glad it’s working toward our benefit for now. We’ve got more immediate problems to worry about. Adeler, Ferro, Fuyue, last chance to evac with the rest of us.”

“I’m committed,” replied Eva.

Fuyue gripped the Staff of the Archon, and nodded at Eva and Ari. “Same.”

“Remember to set up your transponders every three floors,” said Richter. “We don’t want to lose contact with you.”

“I’ve got them,” replied Ari, gesturing at her rucksack.

Eva unlimbered her AK-74, and passed it off to Richter. “I won’t be needing this.”

“You’re sure?” he asked.

“I’ve still got my sidearm, and this bokken is far more than it appears.”

Ari tapped the handguard of her Phalanx. “I’ll stick with good old-fashioned copper-jacketed lead.”

“All right, then,” said John. “We’ll be in orbit. Good luck, I hope you don’t get incinerated.”

“Same to you.”

Richter hugged Eva, and whispered in her ear. “I love you. Don’t do anything stupid, even by my standards.”

“I love you, too,” she said softly.

Richter and the rest of the team headed down the corridor and disappeared from sight. Ari pulled out her PDA, and interfaced it with the HUD on her helmet visor.

“Okay,” she began. “The next door should lead to a stairwell. We’ll follow that down three levels, then there should be a dining facility and commissary.”

The trio walked a short distance until they found the door they wanted. This time, they found it unlocked, and a dark and dusty set of stairs on the other side. They descended into the murky depths, relying entirely on their IR emitters and imaging to see anything. The stairs were so dusty that they had to take care not to slip with each step. After three flights, they found a wide hallway that led deeper into the center of the complex. Ari withdrew a transponder from her load-bearing vest, peeled off a plastic strip to expose an adhesive backing, and stuck it to the wall. A moment later, a green LED began to blink, indicating a good connection to their host ship. That done, they continued.

Not far down the corridor, they found the commissary and the chow hall. They were across from each other, with floor-to-ceiling windows. The doors were unlocked to both, and had been completely emptied of anything valuable a long time ago. Though there were several interesting clues left behind about the sort of people that used to live there, they didn’t have time to investigate any further. The team proceeded down the hallway.  As they walked, Ari turned to Eva.

“I have to ask you,” she began. “I know you’re itching to talk to this alleged Kira’To. I’m curious, though, what’s your ideal outcome here?”

“I already told you, I’m not sure,” she replied. “An ideal outcome would be the sharing of knowledge and wisdom far beyond anything we’ve ever learned, including a way to generate a wormhole back to our sector.”

“And not being incinerated like a squirrel on a transformer.”

Eva smirked. “That’d be a plus.”

“It just seems reckless, and frankly, not what I’ve come to expect from you.”

“Nobody’s forcing you to come with us, Ferro.”

“I’m surprised more of us didn’t insist on coming. I think everyone else took their cue from Richter, who didn’t object to you going down here at all. Of all people, I thought he’d be with us.”

Eva stopped walking. “Richter and I have spoken at length about what we’re doing here. Normally I’d tell you it’s none of your business, but I know what the two of you have gone through together. Our relationship is as tenuous as a heartbeat, such is our commitment to the mission. No healthy relationship is bound to immutable terms, and neither of us would ever claim that our dalliance is a good idea for either of us.”

Ari looked at her, shocked. “Dalliance? Do you call that love?”

Eva closed her eyes, and felt tears welling up. “I don’t know.”

“You should. Richter let you go, selflessly, because he loves you that much.”

“He may feel differently if we all get killed.”

The trio proceeded until they reached the next stairwell, and descended another three flights. At that point, they located a door which their map told them led to a room that had been the main operations center for the entire complex. None of them were surprised to find it locked. Ari interfaced her PDA with the panel, and after a few seconds, she grunted.

“Problem?” uttered Eva.

“Despite Christie’s best efforts, this panel is still encrypted beyond what can be easily bypassed. I’ll send her a text message asking for a recommendation for the best algorithm to use to crack it.”

“Okay.”

Eva lifted the visor on her helmet, instantly casting her world into utter darkness. She wiped her face with the back of her hand, and gratefully breathed in the cold air. She retrieved a canteen, and realized the contents had frozen solid. After a few moments, she put the visor back in place, returning the stairwell to its IR illumination.

“On Christie’s suggestion, I’ve begun a decryption algorithm. The program says it’ll take at least thirty minutes.”

“Then I guess we’re stuck here for a bit. I’m going to set up my Jetboil and try to thaw one of my canteens, and maybe have a little snack.”

“Before you do that, grab another transponder and set it up, if you don’t mind.”

Eva retrieved the requested device from Ari’s rucksack, and activated it. “Reckless Faith, this is the ground team, radio check, over.”

John’s voice came through, scratchy and faint. “We read you two by two, over.”

“Good enough. How’s it going on your end?”

“Things are about to get busy in a hurry. The Anachronians just showed up. Good luck down there; we’ll hold the planet until you’re done.”

“Kick some ass, Scherer. Ground team out.”

__________

In a high orbit around Perdition, space had suddenly become rather crowded. A squadron of seven Anachronian ships had just shown up, preceded by the Fox by less than a minute. John, on the bridge as usual, hadn’t even had time to give the friendly ships a status update before Christie informed him of the new arrivals.

The Anachronians quickly arranged their vessels in a wide swath along 30 degrees of the planet’s Y-axis, at a distance of about half a million kilometers. The allied ships were spread evenly around Perdition at the equator, only a thousand kilometers from the planet’s surface. Without the need for a prompt, the Antares adjusted its position to better keep visual contact with their potential enemy.

“Open a channel to the Anachronians,” began John, “and tie in our fleet so they can listen.”

“You’re live,” replied Dana.

“Anachronian squadron, this is the Reckless Faith. You are well outside your jurisdiction, and any action other than simple observation will be interpreted as hostile. We have no desire for violence, and will not fire unless fired upon. However, your scout ship was destroyed by the Chimeras, and we have no control over what they might do. No known defense against them exists; remain here at your own peril.”

“This is Captain Shaula,” came the reply. “How this encounter goes depends entirely on what happened to the seven men we sent to inspect the Percheron.”

“The six soldiers are fine. Unfortunately, the man known as Graffias chose to escalate the situation, and a member of the Percheron’s crew was forced to kill him in self-defense. If you send an unarmed shuttle, we’ll return the soldiers to you unharmed.”

There was a noticeable pause before Shaula replied. “Considering the circumstances, it would show more faith if you provided a shuttle for the same.”

“Very well, though the shuttle we can provide is not unarmed. I’ll tell you what: since I’m sure at least one of your men is capable of piloting it, they can take it without one of our people in control, provided you leave it be after they’ve disembarked.”

“We’ll make it happen. Oh, and if the Chimeras do show up again, I strongly advise you not to fire on them. They may leave you alone long enough for you to collect your troops and go home.”

“Understood. We’ll maintain our current positions. Commander Scherer, at the first hint of treachery, consider our agreement void.”

“Fine. Reckless Faith out.” John turned to Dana. “Get me the Percheron.”

“Go ahead,” she said.

“Colonel Dietrich, do you have any objections to this plan?”

“Obviously I’m not too keen on the possibility of losing my shuttle, but I suppose we could replicate another given sufficient source material. I’ll make the arrangements, out.”

John leaned back in his chair, and looked at the others.

“I don’t think Shaula knows who Graffias was,” said Ray.

“I agree,” said Christie. “Shaula seemed awfully blasé about the news of his death. Based on what we know about the Anachronians, the loss of a Sortarius under their employ would be cause for a fight, not a negotiation, the loss of their own soldiers notwithstanding.”

“It could be that he knew about Graffias, but the hypocrisy of his alliance is a secret none of them can admit. After all, it totally undercuts their entire reason for wanting to confiscate Sortarii relics.”

Richter said, “I think they’ve made a deal with the devil, so to speak. Though they need Sortarii technology, I bet Graffias agreed to help them under the condition that his own knowledge and equipment were off-limits. If he was powerful enough, he could get away with it.”

“That makes sense,” said John. “Knowing the true reason doesn’t really change our current situation, though. I’m just glad we have something going on that can buy some time for our people back on the surface.”

Dana said, “The Percheron reports that their shuttle and its compliment of POWs will be departing in approximately five minutes.”

“Good. Where’s the Fox?”

“They’re holding at L3, opposite the star from Perdition.”

“Okay. That should be far enough to keep safe from the Chimeras, if they show up again.”

“You’re a conjurer,” said Christie, pointing toward the bow.

Appearing out of nowhere, countless pinwheels of oscillating light began to flit like fireflies among both squadrons. Their movements seemed random, until they began to coalesce around the Anachronian ships. The crew of the Faith watched with bated breath for a few moments, then John snapped back to attention.

“Fox, what’s your status? See any Chimeras?”

“We’ve got nothing,” said Vecky.

“That’s good. Hold your position, and let’s hope they don’t see any of us as a threat.”

Dietrich’s voice came in over the radio. “Reckless Faith, the Anachronian soldiers are all loaded up on the shuttle and ready to depart. Do you still want to send them?”

“As long as they keep the shuttle’s weapons in a powered-down state, they should be fine. We all need to be ready in case I’m wrong. This could go south in a big hurry.”

“All right, I’ll clear the shuttle for launch. Any update from the ground team?”

Christie said, “No. They haven’t asked for a different decryption algorithm for the locked door they encountered, so I’d have to assume they’re still waiting to see if Ferro’s efforts prove fruitful with the first one I gave them.”

“Okay. Percheron out.”

_____

Captain Shaula stood on the bridge of his cruiser, his sidearm pointed toward the main screen, with his hands shaking. An apparition had just appeared, taking the form of an Anachronian man from his past, the translucent form sneering at him with an expression of contempt. The rest of the bridge crew sat in shock at their stations, watching this display in confusion, as they could not see what he saw.

Despite everything he knew about the Chimeras, he was not prepared for this. The man was a figment from his own memory, the exact details of his appearance repressed forever, or so he thought. In the man’s hand was a kitchen knife, the kind one might use to carve up a holiday roast, mirroring the one that had been taken from his family’s own utensil drawer so many decades ago. The trauma of what had happened that day was so great, Shaula’s logical mind never had a chance.

The exhortations of his crew, people that he trusted innately, fell on deaf ears. All he could think to do was scream at the ghost, crying out in rage at what that man had taken from him, a price exacted from only the most unfortunate souls: Shaula’s parents.

Closing his eyes, forcing tears down his face, he yanked on the trigger of his pistol, hoping for at least one brief moment to drown out the terror that consumed him.

Shadow of the Chimera (Reckless Faith VII), Chapter 18

Spoiler alert: This is a new entry for the 7th book in the Reckless Faith series. The prologue may be found here: https://devonai.wordpress.com/2022/12/15/reckless-faith-vii-prologue/

On the bridge of the Antares, Captain Lesath waited. There was little else for her to do at that moment, other than keep a watchful eye on the stars, and one out for any unknown ships that might try to make a break from the planet into space. The Percheron had gone down to the surface to assist the Reckless Faith in their task, which was shaping up to be far more interesting than Lesath had first predicted.

Though her alliance with the Terran ships was reluctant, she also didn’t like being left out of the action. Personally, she hadn’t tangled with any Rakhar in a long time, though she had found them to be worthy foes in the past. Any expansionistic designs the Empire (or Protectorate, or whatever they were calling themselves) might have in their area would be, at the very least, good for the business she was in. She’d also find it amusing if the Rakhar presence was a poke in the eye for those smug Anachronians.

Fuchner and Sargas were with her on the bridge, and while the latter man was alert, oriented, and mobile, Lesath wished that he’d spend more time recuperating before returning to duty. Still, they were already running a skeleton crew, with the loss of Marvec and Brastion, so she could hardly object to his presence. As for Fuchner, he had no reservations about their friendship with the Terrans, expressing his amazement and appreciation of their experiences at Umber far more freely than she. Lesath would have shared more of his enthusiasm, had the Reckless Faith arrived in the Tarantula Nebula twenty years earlier than it did. But such things were pointless to ponder: what was done was done.

Fuchner’s console beeped at him. “A ship just came out of FTL, ma’am. It’s Anachronian, a long-range reconnaissance vessel. We’re still cloaked, and the Percheron has landed, so we should be safe from detection.”

“Send an encrypted text to the Faith and the Percheron,” she replied. “Let them know not to do anything obvious, and that we’ll update them if and when this ship departs the solar system.”

“Aye, ma’am,” said Sargas.

Lesath finished what was left of her yutha, long since gone cold, and considered the decanter at the rear of the bridge, its half-full bounty probably scalded and brackish, but still loaded with the stimulant she craved. Somehow, her father had squirreled away a lifetime’s supply of shelf-stable grounds before fleeing the Tarantula Nebula, and though the rare beverage could certainly fetch a good price in the core galaxy, she had no intention of giving it up. The aroma was nostalgic, though sometimes painfully so. Yet, it brought her happiness more often than not.

Sargas brought her out of her introspection. “Ma’am, Captain Dietrich wants to speak with you.”

“Put her through. Captain Dietrich, this is Captain Lesath. Go ahead.”

“Commander Scherer is engaged with the mission on the surface,” she began. “I’ve been authorized to speak on behalf of the Faith. Maintain a posture of stealth, but if there’s any indication that we’ll be discovered, then destroy the Anachronian vessel.”

“Such an act will surely draw more of their forces here.”

“I’m aware. If such a thing should happen, alert us immediately. We’ll either expedite our mission, or do a full evac.”

“Understood. Antares out. Fuchner, get visual contact with our new guest, then shut down the NDSS. We don’t want them to sniff us out.”

“No problem,” he replied, and a red bracket appeared around the other ship. “I recommend we maintain a distance of at least a hundred thousand kilometers at all times.”

“I agree. I’ve got to hit the head. Sargas, you’ve got the bridge.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied.

Lesath stood up, and exited. The nearest bathroom was forward of the bridge, just off the conference room, so she traversed the circular corridor to starboard to get there. The door to the conference room, programmed to open for her as every other portal on the ship, remained closed. She felt her hair stand up on her head, though she at first thought nothing of it. Frustrated, she slammed her fist on the control panel, and the door slid open. As she entered the conference room, she realized she was not alone.

A Zendreen soldier stood by the exterior bulkhead. She recognized its form from both the database on the Antares, and her father’s stories. The tall, lanky figure, reminiscent of a praying mantis, looked at her silently, though it bared its long, black, needle-like teeth at her, its greenish carapace seeming translucent in the dim light in the room.

“Fuck!” barked Lesath.

She drew her pistol, and sent out five well-aimed shots. As she side-stepped toward the conference table, the only viable cover in the room, she could see that the Zendreen had disappeared. Only shallow craters on the wall, carved from the impact of her 10mm frangible rounds, and the shell casings that clattered across the deck, offered any evidence that what she saw was real. Sargas burst into the room a moment later, his battle blade in hand.

“What happened?” he growled.

“I don’t know,” she replied, lowering her pistol. “I thought I saw a Zendreen.”

Sargas gently put his hand on her right forearm. “That’s impossible. Are you feeling all right?”

Fuchner’s voice came in over the intercom. “Everybody okay?”

“We’re fine, it was a negligent discharge.”

“Okay, but you’d both better get back up here, now.”

Momentarily forgetting the state of her bladder, Lesath followed Sargas back to the bridge. Fuchner needed only to point at the main screen. Scintillating points of light were flitting around the Anachronian ship.

“What are we looking at?” asked Lesath.

“Per your instructions, I’m not scanning, but those things match the description that the Reckless Faith gave us for their encounter with space-borne Chimeras.”

“I just had a hallucination that also matches what they told us. Send a text message to the Faith and the Percheron, let them know.”

“Okay.”

Out in the starfield, they could see that the Anachronian vessel had just started firing on the Chimeras. Red-tinged energy streaked from the ship into infinity.

“Oh, no, they’re not going to want to do that,” said Sargas.

Though they were too far away to see the ship distinctly, it was rather obvious when it exploded in a brief fireball.

“Shit,” muttered Lesath. “The timer starts now. Update our allies on what happened, and let them know that Anachronia’s fastest ships can be here in less than ninety minutes.”

Fuchner did so, and fifteen seconds later, his console beeped at him.

“Scherer is telling us to withdraw to 5 AU, or further if the Chimeras are still interested in us, and to contact the Fox and the Vastuvians, and tell them to link up with you.”

“I wholeheartedly agree. Let’s get out of here.”

__________

In a long-abandoned medical wing, deep underground on Perdition, the recently-reconfigured ground team stopped to take in the new information they’d received from the Antares. Devonai had been evacuated to the Percheron, to have his wound attended to by Doctor Ogden, and Christie remained on the Faith to continue her mind scan of the captured Rakhar soldier. In their place, Colonel Dietrich had supplied her security crew of Lieutenants Mintaka, Al-Nilam, and Zeta. The news of the arrival of Chimeras was disconcerting, to say the least, but other than giving their mission a time limit, nothing planetside had changed. The medical wing was in the same state as the rest of the complex as they’d encountered it so far, and had been stripped of anything of value long ago. They were ready to move on.

“I have to wonder,” Ari was saying, “how the Chimeras infiltrated the Antares; that is to say, if Lesath’s illusion is to be believed. Doesn’t her ship have the same invisibility shield as our own?”

Ray said, “Christie told me that the Antares has shielding equivalent to the Faith when it was first constructed. All of our adventures since then have given us ample opportunity to tweak and refine it, making it more efficient, depending on the scenario. While the Faith and the Percheron may be undetectable to the Chimeras, it’s possible that the Antares wasn’t as well hidden.”

“That’s their shit luck, then. At least they were able to withdraw before incurring any of their wrath.”

John said, “Everything we’ve learned about the Chimeras so far seems to indicate that they’ll only attack what they perceive to be a threat. I don’t think the Antares just sitting there in orbit was particularly threatening to them, and the illusion that Captain Lesath experienced was probably just a probe. At this point, I’m only concerned that they may try to involve themselves with this base, as if we didn’t need another reason to hurry the hell up.”

“I may have a way of expediting this process,” said Fuyue. “I can try meditating, and see if the Archon is willing to communicate with me that way.”

“You’re just now offering this suggestion?” asked Richter.

“We’re in the middle of a combat action. It didn’t seem prudent before.”

“I think we’ve proven that we can hold a position,” said John. “Go ahead, and we’ll deal with any Rakhar that show up.”

Fuyue sat on the floor, crossed his legs, and closed his eyes. A moment later, Christie’s voice could be heard over the radio.

“Ground team, Tolliver here. I got some good information from our POW, if you have a few minutes to hear it.”

“We do,” replied John. “Go ahead.”

“First of all, this guy is going to need to be transferred to the Percheron or the Fox if he’s to stand any chance of survival. He’s got gunshot wounds to his extremities, and second-degree burns. We’ve got him stabilized for now, but I don’t know how long he can hold on.”

“See what Doctor Ogden can do for now.”

“Okay. Other than that, we lucked out, insofar as he’s a lieutenant. The intruders here are indeed part of the effort to revitalize the Rakhar empire, and they stumbled upon Perdition as part of their expansion plan. This crew is here to determine if this facility can be salvaged for its original purpose. Their ship is in the main hangar, on the opposite side of the mountain, and started out with a crew of twenty. So that leaves eight still unaccounted for.”

“Are they aware of what happened at Eniph and/or Sadal Biham?”

“Yes, they received a report. A scout ship managed to survive a visit to Sadal Biham, and report its findings, but they have no idea what happened. Due to the level of destruction, they’ve abandoned their effort in that sector entirely.”

“That’s good news for us, except of course for our little Chimera problem. Anything else?”

“The lieutenant has quite the porn addiction, I’d be happy to describe in detail his various fetishes.”

John laughed. “Oh, dear. No, thank you. What about their comm frequencies and encryption methods?”

“Good call. Yeah, I can get that to your PDAs. Are you thinking about a parley?”

“It’s worth a shot. They’re outnumbered now, and we don’t really have a reason to fight them. Send the data.”

“It’s on its way. Tolliver out.”

John retrieved his PDA, and looked at the new information. “Does anyone here have any objection to trying to make contact with the Rakhar?”

“Go for it,” said Ari.

No one else had a comment, so John entered the data into his comm program. Once he had muddled through that, he opened a channel.

“Rakhar Imperials, this is Commander Temerity of the Anachronian Civil Defense Force.” There was no reply, so he continued. “More than half of your force has been wiped out. We have no desire for any further loss of life, nor do we particularly care about this facility. If you open a dialogue with us, then we won’t be compelled to utterly destroy you.”

Several seconds of silence passed, then a reply came through.

“What are your intentions here?”

“We’re investigating an incursion by an unknown species into our region of space. A few minutes ago, we lost our escort vessel at their hands. We have no quarrel with you, Rakhar. Working together may be the only way any of us make it off of this god-forsaken planet. Unfortunately, your troops were more inclined to shoot first and ask questions later, and we were forced to defend ourselves. There is one survivor, a lieutenant, who saw the wisdom in supplying the means to contact you. Let’s put an end to this conflict.”

“Return our man to us unharmed, and we can talk.”

“He was grievously injured. While we’re willing to do so, we’d like to have a chance to treat his wounds first. Then, he’s all yours.”

“Time, it seems, is on your side, Anachronian. Very well, if you take no further action against us, then we’ll wait. Until then, any contact with you or anyone else will be met with full force. When you’re ready, bring him to the main hangar.”

“Fine. Hold tight. Temerity out.”

“Nice narrative you’ve spun, there,” said Ray.

“I’ve gotten used to lying through my teeth when I have to. They likely know they’re on the edge of Anachronian territory, so I took the liberty of allying us with them. I implied that we’re irregulars so that they’ll be less suspicious that we don’t look like Anachronians.”

“Shrewd,” said Eva. “As far as the Rakhar prisoner, we don’t have time to transfer him to another ship. If Lesath’s estimate is correct, we’re going to be crawling with Anachronian ships in a little more than an hour.”

“Damn it, you’re right. Christie, are you still listening?”

“Of course,” she said.

“You’re going to have to do the best you can to stabilize the lieutenant for transport. We’ve arranged a truce with the Rakhar, but it’s contingent on that man surviving and being transferred back to his people.”

“Okay. He’s not ambulatory. Doctor Ogden has patched him up and is running IV fluids. We’re going to have to use a litter team.”

“Fine, get him back to the control room. How’s Devonai?”

“Ogden’s got him in surgery now, stitching up his right peroneal artery. He should be fine, barring any complications.”

“Good. See you soon, then.”

Richter looked at his PDA. “According to the schematics for this complex, it will take us around twenty minutes to get to the main hangar from here. I recommend we ask the Rakhar to meet us in-transit in the main interior corridor.”

John nodded. “Very well.”

Opening a channel, John made the request, and the Rakhar agreed. He and Richter looked at Fuyue.

“I think he’s just about out of time.”

John walked over and nudged Fuyue on the shoulder. “Hey, Sortarius, we’ve got to go.”

Fuyue opened his eyes, and stood up. “I know.”

“So, any luck with the Archon?”

“There is no Archon here. There is, however, a Kira’To.”

The crew of the Faith looked at him in shock.

“Holy shit,” said Ari.

“You’re sure?” asked Ray.

“It’s not trapped inside a reactor again, is it?” asked John.

“No,” said Fuyue. “As you know, the Kira’To prefer to speak in riddles, so I’m not sure why it’s here or what it’s doing. We did have a lengthy, if confusing, conversation, and my best guess is that it has reverted to its corporeal form and was hoping to die when this planet finally freezes solid.”

“Whoa, that’s a lot to unpack. First of all, we didn’t know the Kira’To even had a corporeal form anymore.”

“Sure they do, I’ve just never heard of one willingly spending much time that way. Their ethereal existence is far more rewarding, I’m sure.”

“And it wants to die?” asked Richter.

“That’s what it implied. Though, it will take another hundred years or two before this facility is truly uninhabitable. I can’t imagine what it’ll be doing with itself during that time.”

John asked, “Do you have any idea where it is?”

“I got an image in my head that matches the reactor room as seen on the blueprints. Ten levels down, through two security checkpoints. It doesn’t seem like a very hospitable place.”

“Did you ask it if it can help us in any way?” asked Ray.

“Yes. It told me I already know how; but I assure you, I’ve no idea what it meant.”

Evangeline’s voice came in over the radio. “Ground team, this is Adeler. Tolliver and I are in the control room with the Rakhar lieutenant.”

“Copy that,” said John. “We’re on the move.”

Everyone gathered their things, and headed out into the central corridor. It only took them a couple of minutes to get back to what was left of the control room, where they found the trio they were expecting. John filled them in on what they had learned from Fuyue. Eva was particularly perturbed by what she was told.

“I realize this is a departure from my normal demeanor,” she began, “but I’m going to the reactor to see this Kira’To. If that means you have to leave without me, then so be it. I have an overwhelming feeling that everything we’ve been through with the Stymphalian Raptors had led me to this point.”

“What do you hope to gain by that?” asked Ari.

“I’m not sure. Closure? Revenge? Either seem like a good idea.”

“You witnessed what happened to Acolyte Jeunesse,” said Fuyue. “Your fate could be the same, and your Sortarii trinkets will be just as useful. If the Kira’To feels threatened by you, then you’re as good as dead.”

“Then I hope you’ll come with me. Aren’t you a little bit curious to see a Kira’To for yourself?”

“Not at the peril of my own life. If Kitsune were here, then maybe the three of us could stand a chance if the Kira’To became hostile. Or the Colchester girl, or Ferro, if we had the third staff.”

Christie said, “The Fox will be here in half an hour, but so could the Anachronian fleet. I really don’t think any of us have time for this dalliance, staff or no staff.”

“That’s enough bickering,” said John. “Evangeline, I can’t stop you from staying, if that’s what you want. However, the fact remains that the Kira’To might be able to show us how to return to our region of the galaxy, and as far as I’m concerned, that’s a good enough reason to try. The Fox and the Vastuvian ships will probably beat the Anachronians here by a few minutes at least, which give us a pretty good force to stand our ground. We’ve never shied away from a fight, and I think this endeavor is important enough to defend Perdition while Eva takes a chance with the Kira’To.”

“Fuckin’ A,” said Richter.

“I’ll go with Adeler,” said Fuyue.

“Me, too,” said Ari. “I may not have a magical mystery staff, but I can’t let Eva go without me.”

“Then you’ve cast your lots,” said John. “Everyone else, we’ll take the Rakhar lieutenant back to his friends, then the Faith and the Percheron are bugging out. We’ll hold in orbit around Perdition, and buy you as much time as we can.”

Shadow of the Chimera (Reckless Faith VII), Chapter 17

Spoiler alert: This is a new entry for the 7th book in the Reckless Faith series. The prologue may be found here: https://devonai.wordpress.com/2022/12/15/reckless-faith-vii-prologue/

“There’s no way that Black Talon knows we’re here.”

Ray’s pronouncement echoed slightly in the control room off of the main tunnel. After searching the Rakhar body for information, and coming up short, the team was left on guard, and confused. Other than the belligerent stranger, there was nothing to be found in that room other than faded patriotic posters on the wall, captioned in a language none of them could read. John furrowed his brow.

“I seriously doubt their presence has anything to do with us,” he began. “We never did find out the limits of the Rakhar Imperial Protectorate, or whatever they’re calling themselves, or from where the force that plagued Eniph came. Given fast enough ships, they could exert a sphere of influence this far. I’m only surprised nobody we’ve spoken to so far mentioned them.”

“Few around here seem willing to volunteer information without prompting,” said Eva. “Fuyue, what say you?”

“Miss Evangeline is right,” he replied. “The Protectorate is known to operate in this area, though they seem to be at the limit of their power. I would have to guess that their origin point is somewhere between our spiral arm and yours. As for the maximum speed of their ships, I have no idea.”

Ari asked, “What’s their opinion on the Sortarii?”

“Unfavorable. If they caught wind of the presence of an Archon here, I’m sure they’d be keen on eliminating them.”

“Is such a thing even possible?”

“It depends on the health of the Archon.”

John keyed his radio. “Reckless Faith, this is the ground team. We’ve encountered interlopers here. Initiate a new scan of the area, and the structure; if there’s another ship here, we need to find it.”

“Understood,” said Dana’s voice. “We’ll do so, and inform the Percheron and the Antares to do the same from their positions.”

“Good. Let us know the instant you find anything. Scherer out.”

“They could have dropped a squad here, then withdrawn,” said Eva.

“Yes, but that doesn’t conform to what we know about Rakhar tactics. Come on, we’ve got a job to do.”

Christie gestured at the desks in the room. “If any of these computer consoles are working, it would be worth our time to see if we can find a floorplan or blueprints of the facility.”

“Oh, you recognize the language?”

“No, but I can search our databases for a match. I still have a strong connection to the Faith.”

Joh nodded. “All right, but we shouldn’t spend too much time on that. Eventually somebody’s going to check on their missing trooper.”

Christie unlimbered her rucksack, sat down in a nearby chair, and closed her eyes. Ari began checking the consoles to see if any were receiving power. Fuyue walked over to John, and spoke quietly.

“You have a very special friend in Miss Tolliver,” he said. “Though I’ve been debating telling you this, I’ve decided you should know something about her.”

“Oh? Pray tell.”

“You already know that as a Sortarius, I can sense the life force of living beings. Exactly how is something I cannot share. However, if I didn’t know better, I’d tell you that Miss Tolliver is fully Terran. Although her android body can’t perfectly replicate the life signs of a humanoid, everything else checks out.”

“Well, bully for Verisimilitude Android Designs, then.”

“That’s not what I mean. You see, Commander Scherer, I believe she still has her soul.”

Fuyue’s comment sent chills down John’s spine. “Wow. How do you quantify a soul?”

“Again, I’m afraid I can’t tell you that. It’s knowledge reserved only for the Order. It seems the Umberians also stumbled upon that knowledge when they created the orb. I just thought you should know; she may be unique in all of the universe.”

“Once we were able to successfully integrate an orb into the android’s body, and interface it with the one on our ship, it did raise an obvious question about further implications for humanity.”

“Have you created immortality?”

“Exactly. Barring the destruction of both orbs, anyway. The possibility of having a setup like Christie’s, ready to go, in the event of someone’s death, is very compelling. Unfortunately, we don’t know how her soul was transferred into the orb when her body died, nor how the Umberians accomplished it. It would be the final piece of the puzzle.”

“The Archon might, given enough time to study, but it’s exceedingly unlikely he or any other Archon would ever agree to do so. I wish you the best of luck, though.”

Dana’s voice came through again. “Ground team, it’s Andrews.”

“Go ahead,” replied John.

“So, further scans of the complex have revealed what we believe to be a large hangar on the opposite side of the mountain. However, it’s well-shielded, so we can’t tell you if anyone’s using it. We can go take a closer look, if you like.”

“That sounds fine. Stay invisible and get back here as soon as you learn anything.”

“Understood. Andrews out.”

Christie wheeled the seat she was in over to a working console. “I’ve found a match to the language on the posters, along with a little bit of information on the civilization that used to call this planet home. For now, I’ll see how far I get with this computer.”

“Good job,” said John. “What were they called?”

“Phaethonites. Legend has it they settled here from another galaxy.”

“Huh. It would be far more plausible if they came from the LMC.”

“I agree. Anyway, there’s some security measures on this console I’m going to have to circumvent to gain access. Do you mind waiting a few more minutes?”

“Sure.”

Ray, who was standing near the Rakhar corpse, spoke up. “Hey, this guy’s radio is squawking at him. Sounds like they’re trying to get a status update.”

“Shit, then we’re running out of time. Ray, Ari, Richter, let’s push out into the next area and see if it’s more defensible than this room.”

The four of them posted up on the other door, which was unlocked, then bounded by pairs to the other side. They found a long circular corridor leading off in both directions, with the left path following the same curve as the tunnel. A few lights set in diamond-shaped sconces shined weakly on the walls, and they could see several sets of footprints leading off both ways. Doors could also be seen every ten meters on the inside wall.

“There’s no cover out here,” said Richter. “The best we can do is cover both directions from the door we just came through.”

“I agree,” said John. “This would be a good place to use a Snoopy, if they weren’t so damn loud. If we make contact here, I suggest we fall back to the security checkpoint and fight it out there.”

“Yup.”

“Okay. Ray and I will stay here.”

“Bam,” said Christie. “I’m in. I’m memorizing the floorplans now.”

“Great work, Christie.”

“Don’t celebrate just yet. This place is huge. There’s munition bunkers, missile silos, barracks, the aforementioned spacecraft hangar, you name it. It’ll take us hours to explore the whole thing. Unfortunately, this also means the Rakhar could be anywhere. I’ve gained access to a handful of CCTV cameras that are still working; so far, they reveal nothing. Fuyue, I hope you’ve got some kind of idea of where this Archon might be hiding, or we’re going to be here all day.”

Fuyue said, “If he doesn’t want to be found, he won’t. If he wants to talk, he’ll sense me first. All we can do is push forward.”

Eva passed her bokken from one hand to the other. “Come on, the enemy is out there.”

“Are you itching for a fight?” asked Ari, her eyebrow raised.

“Kinda, yeah. I feel like justice needs to be done. I dunno, it’s weird.”

“The Rakhar interlopers have upset the natural order here,” replied Fuyue. “Your third eye is more sensitive than I first thought.”

Dana’s voice interrupted them. “Ground team, this is Andrews. Sitrep, please, over.”

“Nothing’s changed since we last spoke,” said John. “What’s the matter?”

“We’ve just received a message from the Fox, highest priority. Captain Kitsune wants to know what’s going on.”

“Let her know, then. In fact, transmit an update to the Vastuvians as well. Scherer out.”

“That’s not a coincidence,” said Ari.

Fuyue looked at her. “No, it isn’t. I was disappointed that Captain Kitsune chose not to accompany us. Her potential shouldn’t be ignored.”

“She’s fighting her own demons,” said Eva. “If we’d told you the whole story, you’d understand. For now, let’s get on with the mission.”

“I agree,” said John.

Christie said, “If it’s a classic dungeon crawl, then I suggest we start with the area off to the south. Administration, medical, and communications are there. It won’t take long to clear that section, and then we can tackle the larger areas.”

“Fine. Everybody grab your shit, we’re on the move.”

Out in the corridor, Richter opened up with his M249, the deafening report echoing throughout the small space. A pronouncement of enemy contact would be redundant, though the man’s training compelled him to do so anyway. Ray ducked back into the control room as plasma bolts filled the hallway. Richter’s initial tempo of six-round bursts quickened to a continuous stream, until his belt of 200 rounds was depleted. He fell back, the barrel of his weapon smoking, as he swept away the drum and fished around on his load-bearing vest for another. A relentless fusillade of plasma bolts struck the door jamb where he’d just been, blowing off chunks of metal.

“Too many to count,” he said, anticipating the obvious question. “Two tangoes down, I’m not sure of any others. Let’s fall back to the security checkpoint.”

The others began to file out of the room. Richter and Ray each pulled out a claymore mine, modified to work wirelessly, and hurriedly set them up on either side of the room. Then, the team regrouped out in the entryway. The concrete barriers were impenetrable, and there were a couple of armored vehicles beyond the checkpoint, so they set up a hasty ambush in a classic L-shape.

“I’d like to see if I can get those blast doors all the way open,” said Ari.

“Go for it!” yelled Richter.

Ari sprinted through the gap in the doors. Richter flipped the bipod down on his SAW and rested it on top of a barrier. Ray, to his left, had swapped out his shotgun for a plasma rifle. Both men retrieved the remote controls for the claymores. Richter double-checked that all of his people were out of the control room, then directed his attention to the doorway. After a minute or two, he could hear shouting from within. He gave a thumbs-up to Ray, and they activated the mines.

There was a flash of light, and a tremendous concussive blast, blowing dust, debris, and body parts out of the door. Random plasma bolts followed that a few seconds later, hitting nothing but the far wall of the tunnel. Richter and his team had practiced ambushes often enough in simulations that he didn’t need to remind them what to do next. They waited until a semi-organized group of Rakhar stumbled out into the tunnel, and held their fire until the group of seven had fully emerged.

Richter initiated fire. In a loud and chaotic second, all but one of the men were felled in a furious slew of bullets and plasma shots. The last man miraculously managed to stay on his feet long enough to flop over a barrier, only to be cut down by Christie. With a hideous griding sound, the blast doors began to open again, stopping when they were fully open. The wind inside the tunnel picked up, clearing away the smoke from the battle. A second later, two small metallic objects flew out of the control room and clattered to the concrete floor.

“Grenades!” shouted Richter, ducking behind cover.

The pair of grenades exploded, sending a shower of shrapnel in all directions. John got on the radio.

“Zukova,” he began, “think you can get some thirty-mil through that doorway on the right?”

“No problem,” Milly replied. “Keep your heads down.”

The ear-shattering report of the GAU 8/A filled the air as Milly sent a half-second burst through the door to the control room. Richter didn’t dare watch, but he clearly heard at least one ricochet. He poked his head up above the barrier, and everyone held their positions. After a couple of minutes, all was still quiet.

“Either that’s all of them,” said Ray, “or they’ve given up on coming out here.”

John said, “Get some frags out, and let’s move up.”

Richter and Ray readied a pair of M67 grenades, and the team cautiously approached the doorway from both sides. Ari rejoined the team, and crept forward with them. When they reached the threshold, Richter and Ray pulled their pins, tossed the grenades inside, and ducked back. Another blast shook the ground, and the men went inside. Other than a huge mess of wrecked consoles and twisted bodies, the room was empty.

“Clear,” said Richter.

The rest of the team, save for Fuyue, came inside.

“Uh, guys?” asked Fuyue. “One of these soldiers is still alive.”

“Who’s got zip-ties?”

“Yo,” said Devonai.

Richter said, “Go secure him, and see if there’s any immediate first aid you can give him.”

“If he lives, I’m going to need help dragging him to the Faith.”

“I’ll go,” said Christie. “I’m the best interrogator we’ve got.”

“I agree,” said John.

The pair returned to the tunnel, and Fuyue pointed out which man was still breathing. Devonai shouldered his rifle, opened a pouch on his LBV, and withdrew a couple of long black zip-ties. As he approached the prostrate figure, another Rakhar suddenly rose up, and struck at him with a long, curved blade. Devonai bellowed as the edge cut through his EVA suit and into his calf, then drew his .45 and put three shots into his attacker.

“God fucking damn it,” he uttered, holstering his pistol. “I think he nicked an artery.”

“Ari, Eva, help ‘em out.”

Nodding, Ari rushed over and helped Fuyue secure the zip-ties on the survivor. Eva helped Devonai remain standing as he grabbed a tourniquet and applied it just below his knee.

“Evac to the Faith,” said Richter. “Scherer, we should get backup before we continue. I recommend we get the Percheron down here. While we’re waiting, Christie, see what you can get out of this guy.”

The cargo bay of the Faith appeared as someone aboard dropped the ramp, and Eva assisted Devonai in hobbling toward it. Christie and Ari grabbed the shoulders of the Rakhar soldier, and dragged him along. After a few minutes, all five were aboard.

“I assume you’re going to use your orb to scan the Rakhar’s brain,” said Fuyue.

“You assume correctly,” replied John. “Christie has become quite skilled in such a task. In the meantime, I want to push forward into the inside corridor, in case the Rakhar send reinforcements.”

“You took the words out of my mouth,” said Richter. “We should also check the bodies for intel, and secure their weapons.”

“Fuyue, do you have any updates you’d care to share?”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” he said.

“I mean your connection to the flow of the universe, or whatever.”

“Just that if there’s an Archon here, there’s no way he’s not aware of this chaos. If I were him, I’d be falling back to my ship and getting the hell out of here. If the Percheron is headed this way, then you should tell the Antares to keep an eye out for any ships leaving orbit. Also, if he’s staying put, you should forget about the overwhelming force tactic and send Miss Evangeline and myself. We’re more than capable of handling anything we come across.”

John scoffed. “Even what we just dealt with?”

Fuyue was dead serious. “Yes.”

“We don’t know enough about the Sortarii to trust you with that task. No offense, but we’ll be bolstering our team anyway and heading for the depths of the complex.”

“As you wish.”

Shadow of the Chimera (Reckless Faith VII), Chapter 16

Spoiler alert: This is a new entry for the 7th book in the Reckless Faith series. The prologue may be found here: https://devonai.wordpress.com/2022/12/15/reckless-faith-vii-prologue/

At an unremarkable spot in space, dozens of light-years from the nearest star, was the Reckless Faith, and the motley crew of ships they’d assembled as allies. Fleeing from the Anachronians had been successful, due to the combination of several random course changes, and each vessel turning off their SRC transceivers. Though the Anachronians were known to have advanced technology, this tried-and-true technique had proven effective in shaking them off the trail. Regardless of this temporary respite, all of them still had two big problems: how to find the planet called Perdition, and the six Anachronian soldiers who were now their responsibility.

John sat in the galley on the Faith, along with Ari, Richter, Christie, Eva, Vecky, Lesath, and their new arrival, a man by whom they only knew as Fuyue. Colonel Dietrich had insisted that the purported Sortarius, along with each of the mysterious staffs that they seemed to be accumulating, be removed from the Percheron, in exchange for her crew managing the half-dozen ad hoc prisoners they now hosted. Dietrich herself was listening in on the conversation via radio, as she convalesced in the Percheron’s medical bay.

John had a hundred questions for Fuyue, but he held his tongue, since their guest was obviously on their side, and quite fatigued by recent events. So far, Fuyue had been offered food and drink, both of which he accepted, including a large glass of strong stout. Though John was glad to be a gracious host, he was also running out of patience, as the gravity of their situation was impossible to ignore. He waited until Fuyue had drained his entire glass, and requested a refill, before pushing his agenda. He decided to ease into it, if such a thing was even possible, by addressing the elephant in the room.

“Evangeline tells us that you’ve heard references to these weapons,” he began, gesturing at the three wooden implements that had been brought on board, “as either a Staff of the Archon, or a Staff of the Sortarii. What’s the difference?”

Fuyue wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “There are three levels of capability imbued into an object, depending on the skill of the Sortarius attempting it. Each corresponds to the Sortarii’s own rank, hence the name. Initiate, also known as Acolyte, Sortarii, or Archon. As I’ve been told, this Amity Jeunesse person referred to herself as Acolyte, even though she somehow possessed a Staff of the Archon. I can only conclude that it must have been a rather generous gift from her instructor, or perhaps gained by the unfortunate demise of the same. Either way, she probably had no idea how to take advantage of its full potential.”

Eva said, “In a battle with a Kira’To, it seems someone set herself up for failure, if either of those scenarios is true.”

“Indeed. She could have easily prevailed, if she knew what she was doing. More’s the pity.”

“She was pure of heart,” said Vecky. “She deserved better.”

“I’m sure. Anyone willing,” Fuyue looked directly at Eva, “to join our Order at this point is facing an uphill battle. Let’s not ruminate on that too much right now, we have more pressing matters. I’m sure you’d like to know how to get to Perdition.”

John said, “The peculiarities of shared language continue to astound me, this far from home. In order to maintain our anonymity, I’ve often referred to Terra as Perditia, as a way of concealing our actual origins.”

“After over a thousand years of galactic diaspora, and the meddling of the Kira’To, it doesn’t surprise me that so many aspects of Terran culture are being discovered so far from your home. Your assumed isolation is probably an untenable state; you cannot claim to be more innocent of your role in this galaxy than any of us. Better that Umber happened upon you when they did, lest you be caught completely defenseless.”

“We’ve come to that conclusion, too, as evidenced by the existence of the Percheron, hopefully the first of many new Terran vessels.”

“What exactly should we hope to find on Perdition?” asked Lesath.

“A Sortarii Archon,” replied Fuyue, “in self-imposed isolation. He may know how to fight the Chimeras, and even how to generate a wormhole so you can return to the Outer Rim.”

“Well, not me, but okay.”

“You referred to Perdition as the lost planet,” began Eva. “Why is that?”

Fuyue said, “Two reasons. One, its star is dying. What was once a lush and fecund world is now encased in ice and snow. The ancient civilization that once called it home left a long time ago, and any natural resources it may still offer are no longer cost effective to exploit. Two, it’s far off of normal trade routes around here, leaving little reason to visit it except as a curiosity.”

“So you know the coordinates, then?” asked Christie.

“I do. They’re not exactly a secret, though the presence of an Archon certainly is. Because of this, my offer to take you there comes with a condition. Only one of your ships will go, and it must be the Reckless Faith, the Percheron, or the Antares.”

“One with an invisibility shield,” said Richter.

“Correct.”

“That’s going to leave the rest of our friends more vulnerable if the Anachronians figure out how to locate us.”

“Then let’s make sure that doesn’t happen,” said John. “Mister Fuyue, we agree to your terms. I suggest the Faith make the journey, escorted by the Antares. Everyone else will have standing orders to flee from the Anachronians, should they stumble upon the rest of the squadron, unless we have superior numbers. How far is Perdition?”

“Forty light-years,” replied Fuyue.

“Great, that’s only fourteen minutes for the Faith and the Antares. How much time do you need to rest?”

“Eight hours would be lovely.”

“Then we’ll set our speed appropriately. Might as well plan to be there in twelve hours, since it’s almost dinnertime by our ship’s clock. Captain Lesath, is that all right with you?”

“Fine,” she said.

“We can return the favor of a tour, now that you’re on board.”

“I think I’ve seen enough,” she said, standing. “I’ll return to my ship.”

John shrugged, and Lesath took the stairs to the top deck. Fuyue also stood up, albeit more slowly, and spoke.

“Miss Evangeline, Captain Kitsune, Commander Scherer, I’d like a word alone with you.”

Those three nodded, and followed him up the stairs to the lounge area. The two staffs and the bokken were leaning against the wall. Fuyue sank down onto one of the couches.

“What’s up?” asked John.

“The Archon that we hope to meet on Perdition may wish to make an offer to Miss Evangeline, Captain Kitsune, and Miss Miriam. Better to consider it now than later. The three women are excellent candidates for Sortarii training, I’m sure due to your particular experiences with the Kira’To.”

“You mean, being transported across hundreds of light-years?” asked Eva.

“Yes, that. Whether you realize it or not, those acts changed you on a sub-atomic level. While this is harmless by itself, we have enemies that are even more powerful than the Anachronians, who may be able to sense it and could see your very existence as a threat. Sortarii training will give you the skills you need to defend yourself, but it’s a lifetime commitment. Though I know you have to deal with the Chimeras first, if the Archon offers it, you should consider returning here soon.”

“I’m sure that will be a tough decision for each of us,” said Vecky.

“No doubt. In the meantime, I’m going to ask permission from the Archon to train you on the use of these weapons.” Fuyue gestured at them. “While I can’t allow you to take the Staff of the Archon, the bokken we took from Graffias and my own staff are Staffs of the Sortarii; lesser, but still very powerful in the right hands. I will do my best to convince the Archon to let you keep them.”

“It would be better if you didn’t mention them at all,” said John. “They may be crucial in opposing the Chimeras.”

“I appreciate that, but I have an ethical imperative to tell him everything.”

Vecky picked up the staff that had belonged to Graffias. “I’m sure Eva mentioned to you that I can see the golden patterns inlaid on the surface here. But I don’t feel any special connection to it, as she did. Are you sure I’m a good candidate?”

“It’s as obvious to me as the nose on my own face.”

“And Miriam?”

“I’m assuming so, based on her history. I could be wrong.”

John said, “Here’s my suggestion for you two. After dinner, if you’re up for it, have a sparring session with the bokken and the short staff. Vecky, see if you can get a sense for something more than a simple length of hardwood.”

Eva smirked. “Aren’t you worried we’ll inadvertently destroy the Faith?”

“Any excess energy,” began Fuyue, “would be absorbed by your ship’s stardrive and shunted harmlessly into your power relays. The Umberians may have known how to harness the power of that meta-state of element 93, but I suspect even they never knew exactly why. That’s the conceit of the Kira’To, the Sortarii, and it seems, the Chimeras.”

“I’d love for you to have a long conversation with Christie,” said John. “Being able to quantify all of this in terms we can understand would be a huge victory for us.”

“Anything else I might say would have to be approved by the Archon. My trust of all of you is tempered by my oaths, as well as your own limitations.”

“That sounds like a veiled insult,” said Vecky.

“It’s nothing of the sort. Anyway, I’m at the end of my tether. If there’s somewhere I can retire, I’ll take the Staff of the Archon and my leave of you.”

John said, “There’s a bed in the cargo hold. It’s not much, but there’s ample privacy.”

“Then I’ll look forward to some uninterrupted rest.”

__________

The star that hosted the planet known as Perdition was a white dwarf, a former red giant that had lost most of its mass. Though it was still far more massive than Earth’s sun, it had long ceased to produce any stellar fusion, meaning it would remain stable for billions of years. Unfortunately for Perdition, the planet would soon become far too cold to support any life, even below ground, probably (according to Christie) within a few hundred years. The star was about ten percent as bright and of a much smaller radius than Sol, with a bluish tint. It was much less interesting than the planetary nebula it had created when it cast off its red giant form, itself a beautiful cat’s-eye shape of green and pink luminous gas.

Christie and Dana would have been thrilled to have a chance to study the star, and the evolution of its solar system throughout the eons, but they didn’t have time for that. Dropping out of FTL, the Reckless Faith, Percheron, and the Antares cautiously approached Perdition before establishing a high orbit. It was quiet there; Fuyue’s assertion that the area had been abandoned seemed to be true. There were no satellites in orbit, nor any space junk, and if there ever had been, they’d long since burned up in the atmosphere. The surface was also bereft of life signs. If the Archon was really there, it was an excellent hiding place.

What Fuyue couldn’t tell them was exactly where on the surface to land, so the ships had moved into a closer orbit, with each of them at a different latitude, to scan for underground structures. They were looking for a former military compound, a hardened subterranean complex similar to Cheyenne Mountain back on Earth. Christie was confident that given enough time and neutrinos, they could find it. She was right, and after three hours, the Percheron, following the Tropic of Capricorn, located a structure that matched that description. It had been decided that the Faith would make the trip to the surface, so several of her crew prepared to brave the elements and try to find a way inside the complex.

The team, finalizing their weapons and equipment in the cargo bay, consisted of John, Ray, Richter, Ari, Christie, Devonai, Eva, and Fuyue. Though they were each wearing EVA suits, they were also bringing along a surplus of survival gear, including cold weather clothing, shelters, and rations, in case of some unforeseen calamity. Toward that end, additional extra-large rucksacks had been replicated, and they were stuffed to the gills. Weapons consisted of Umberian plasma rifles, themselves replicated from the sample recovered by Ari from a Rakhar soldier on Eniph, various sidearms, and conventional long arms, the last choice reflecting their experience that some types of alien armor were vulnerable to good old fashioned kinetic energy. All told, they were each at their limit of carrying capacity, with the exception of Christie and Fuyue, who both seemed unimpeded.

Ray racked a shell of 00-buck into his Remington 870, and topped off the magazine tube. “Don’t you think one of us is going to want to appear less aggressive, should we stumble upon this Archon person?”

“He’s going to sense my presence before he sees any of us,” replied Fuyue. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”

The Faith was jostled slightly as it made its way through the upper atmosphere, and toward their desired coordinates. Richter watched their descent on the wall-mounted monitor, observing a stark snowbound mountaintop as they drew near.

“It looks like Mount Erebus,” he said.

“When were you in Antarctica?” asked Devonai.

“I mean, I’ve seen pictures.”

Dana’s voice came in over the intercom. “Ground team, I’ve located what looks like used to be the main entrance to the complex. It’s a set of blast doors leading to a tunnel, about fifteen meters in width. It’s socked in with ice and snow, so Zukova’s going to try using the plasma cannon to clear a path for you.”

“Roger that,” replied John, then turned to the others. “Watch your ears, everybody.”

Those not already wearing their EVA helmets clamped their hands over their ears. A few seconds later, Milly let loose with the cannon, its hellish report even louder in the cargo bay than on the bridge. Richter felt like his teeth were going to shake loose from his jaw.

“You Terrans aren’t much for soundproofing, I take it,” said Fuyue.

“It’s working,” said Dana. “A few more volleys and we’ll be in business.”

The cannon barked several more times. On the monitor, Richter could see the massive blast doors set into the mountainside, now flanked by mud, dirty snow, and steam. Milly lowered the Faith down to about one meter above the terrain.

“Looks like we’re good to go,” said Richter.

“Ambient temperature, negative 40 C,” said Dana. “Good luck out there.”

Everyone secured their helmets and/or threw their rucksacks on, and readied their weapons. Richter hit the button to lower the ramp, and a gust of wind buffeted the cargo bay. The team dismounted and waded through hip-deep snow until they got to the area that had been melted, then trudged through the mud to one side of the doors. An ancient control panel was there.

John said, “Ari, you’re up.”

Ari stepped forward, her PDA in hand. “Good news, the panel is energized.”

She worked at interfacing the panel with her PDA for several minutes. Other than the whistling of the wind, the area was dead quiet. The doors shuddered, and with an awful grinding sound, began to open. Once an eighteen-inch gap had appeared, the doors stopped moving. Ari tapped at her PDA, and shrugged.

“I guess that’s all we’re going to get,” said John. “Christie, Richter, drop your rucksacks and clear the doors. We’ll pass them through to you once it’s safe.”

Richter and Christie did so, then posted up on either side of the gap. They activated the IR illuminators on their rifles, as well as the corresponding feature on their visors, and swept inside. There, they were met with a huge interior space. The concrete floor was inset with the remnants of two rail lines, leading up to a checkpoint. Concrete barriers had been set up on either side, narrowing the passageway to about ten feet wide, and an arm-style gate had been installed. Just beyond that was a portable trailer, its interior just as dark as the rest of the place. As the pair pushed forward a bit, they could see several abandoned vehicles beyond the gate. A thick layer of dust coated everything, perturbed only by their footsteps and the wind blowing through the gap in the doors.

Richter used his radio to describe what they were seeing to the others, then said, “Clear for now. Come on in, but keep your eyes open.”

By pairs, the rest of the team made their way inside. Christie and Richter put their rucksacks back on, then the team methodically searched the interior of the trailer and the rest of the vehicles. Other than some discarded documents that they couldn’t read, and some discarded trash, they found nothing of interest. At that point, there were only two ways they could go: further down the tunnel which gradually curved to the right, or a door set in the wall to their right.

“Fuyue, what do you think?” asked John.

‘The tunnel is blocked just beyond the curve,” he replied. “See for yourself.”

Richter and Christie proceeded for about fifty meters. Sure enough, the ceiling had collapsed, completely blocking the tunnel with a massive, sloped pile of debris. Scorch marks marred the ceiling there.

“This looks like a controlled demolition,” said Richter. “Well, mostly.”

“Got it,” said John. “Let’s try the door, then.”

Though they were fairly confident they were alone, the rest of the team kept watch as Ari again tried her hand at bypassing the door’s controls. Her efforts were met with a reassuring beep, and a green indicator on the panel. She gave her friends a thumbs-up.

“Too easy,” she said.

The door slid open, rather quietly this time, thoroughly surprising the Rakhar soldier on the other side. He raised his rifle, stuttering some semblance of an order, before squeezing off a burst of blinding blue plasma bolts. The shots missed Ray by mere millimeters, and he reflexively responded with two shots of his own, cycling his pump-action shotgun with perfect speed. The soldier reeled back, stunned, until five rounds from Ari’s Glock macerated his head. He fell to the ground with a thud.

Ray stepped to the side, and he and Ari remained vigilant at the doorway. No further movement could be detected, so they cautiously glanced inside. The open space beyond revealed nothing but darkness.

“Flashbang,” said John.

Richter stepped up, removing a cylindrical device from the load-bearing vest draped over his EVA suit. He pulled the pin, and tossed it inside. Three seconds later, a burst of light and a thundering report blew through the doorway, and Ari and Ray moved smoothly inside, followed quickly by John and Richter. They found themselves in a control room, about twenty-five square meters in size. It was empty, save for the corpse at their feet. Ari holstered her pistol and transitioned to her rifle, and John kicked the Rakhar’s weapon away.

“Clear,” said Ray.

John pointed at the fabric insignia sewn to the Rakhar’s jacket. “It’s the Black Talon.”

“What the fuck are they doing here?” asked Ari.

“Who knows? But I think we’re about to find out.”

Shadow of the Chimera (Reckless Faith VII), Chapter 15

Spoiler alert: This is a new entry for the 7th book in the Reckless Faith series. The prologue may be found here: https://devonai.wordpress.com/2022/12/15/reckless-faith-vii-prologue/

Far Reach was a beautiful planet, quite similar to Earth in appearance. Though due to having fewer metropolitan areas, it was more verdant and unspoiled, or at least it seemed that way from far above. Colonel Dietrich believed she would never tire of simply gazing at a planet from orbit, even though such a world had become mundane by comparison in her short time outside of Earth’s humble sphere. Any such enjoyment had been spoiled, at the moment, by the arrival of fourteen Anachronian ships, and the threat one of their admirals had just made to her and her smaller group.

During quieter times, she had initiated a conversation with Admiral Praxis, a man to whom she’d barely said a hundred words since they’d met. Aldebaran and Faen notwithstanding, she’d never had a chance to have an unfettered dialog with an alien, and she listened, enrapt, to several of his stories, including his perspective on their recent entanglements with the affairs of the Faith and the Fox. Ultimately, both of them were frustrated with playing second fiddle to Commander Scherer, though Praxis had a better reason for being so inclined. Dietrich had known what was expected of her and her ship all along, while he was an unwitting participant. Still, nothing that Scherer had proposed during their current troubles was unreasonable or illogical, so both of them had to begrudgingly continue to follow his lead.

As such, it was he who had initially responded to the demands from the Anachronian admiral, and once again she could only listen in on their communications. Despite this, the fact that she commanded such a powerful ship imparted a modicum of reassurance. No matter what happened, she was in charge of the Percheron.

The desire of the Anachonians was straightforward: surrender the staff, and the ship on which it was currently placed. Since the staff was planetside, with Evangeline and the Percheron’s shuttle, Dietrich could only guess that the Anachronians didn’t trust their own scans, otherwise they would know none of the vessels in orbit had it. The Faith had sent a hurried message to Eva, advising her to stay put, until further notice. Dietrich had placed her crew on high alert, and stood by, ready for the worst.

“We don’t recognize your authority here,” John was saying, over the radio. “Nothing in the data we were given indicates that you can legally detain any of us outside of your own solar system. We will not comply with your demands. If you do not leave us in peace, we’ll have no choice but to defend ourselves.”

Dietrich understood why John was speaking that way, but whether or not their smaller force could save their own skins in action was unknown. With an advantage of more than two-to-one (not counting the Antares), the Anachronians would have to be pretty stupid to lose a fight with them. They also already knew that their antagonists had technology beyond anything they’d encountered before. If Dietrich had anything to say about it, they’d be better off fleeing, except they’d strand Eva on Far Reach by doing so. Eva broke in with her own transmission, on a separate and encrypted channel.

“Adeler here,” she began. “My new friend is advising us to tell the Anachronians that we don’t have the staff anymore, and for the two of us to launch and rendezvous with the Percheron.”

“They’ll detect the staff the moment you break atmo,” replied John.

“Mister Shang is confident they won’t. You should listen to him, Scherer. I believe him.”

“You’ll forgive me if I don’t share his confidence. It’d be safer if you meet up with us later.”

“Maybe, except they could set up a blockade, and send patrols down here. If they detect the staff, we’re all alone.”

“Damn it, you’re right. Stand by.”

Brockway said, “I have a bad feeling about this.”

“I agree,” said Dietrich. “I feel like we’re out of options.”

John’s transmission continued. “Adeler, would your companion be able to hide the staff if it and the ship he was on was boarded?”

“He says so,” came the reply.

“Then I think we should let them search us. If he’s wrong, then the worst that happens is they confiscate it. With his help, then there may be another way for us to fight the Chimeras.”

“I’m sure we’d all be rue to let our ships get searched by a bunch of strangers,” began Dietrich, “but I agree that it’s the best way to keep the peace.”

“All right, then, I’ll let the Anachronians know that we’ll agree to a search, if they allow the shuttle to return to the Percheron. Any objections?”

“I don’t like it,” replied Praxis, “but I’ll allow it.”

“No problem here,” added Vecky.

“Captain Lesath?” asked John.

“They probably won’t search my ship,” she replied. “I’m the one who alerted them to your presence here. Don’t worry, though, that was just after our unfortunate entanglement in New Solace. Since you saved Sargas, you have my support now.”

“Don’t tell them that, maybe they’ll still give you a finder’s fee.”

The others listened in as John got back into contact with the Anachronian admiral, and laid out their terms. They reached an agreement, and the first ship to be searched would be the Percheron. In turn, Dietrich briefed the rest of her crew on what was about to happen, and to give the Anachronians their full cooperation. That done, the only thing left to do was to wait until the shuttle returned.

Brockway tracked the small vessel, and coordinated its path into the Percheron’s cargo bay. Once the bay was again safe to enter, she and Dietrich stood up and exited the bridge. They descended the port-side staircase, and arrived in the bay just as the rear hatch opened. Eva emerged with the staff, her gait rather unsteady, followed by the man she had called Shang. He nodded at them in greeting, then closed his eyes, extending his arms out to his side at waist-level.

“Hello?” asked Dietrich.

“You have a cloaking device,” he said, then opened his eyes. “That’s a very good thing.”

“We think so.”

“That makes my job that much easier. Miss Evangeline, would you lean the staff against the bulkhead?”

“Okay,” she replied, doing so.

Shang closed his eyes again, and the staff disappeared. A moment later, Mungavin’s voice could be heard over the intercom.

“Captain, I’m getting a strange error message regarding the invisibility shield. ‘Localized activation.’ As far as I can tell, the ship is still visible.”

“Disregard,” said Dietrich. “We’ve got it under control. Mister Shang, that’s quite impressive. I’ll not trouble you for how you did that right now, I’ll only ask whether or not such a measure will be sufficient to fool the Anachronians.”

“It will be,” he said.

“Yeah,” began Brockway, “unless they happened to be actively scanning us between the time you got here and now.”

“They weren’t.”

“I can confirm that,” said Mungavin. “No unusual neutrino emissions were detected in the last five minutes.”

“Lucky,” said Dietrich. “Mister Shang, how close do you need to be to the staff to keep it hidden?”

Shang said, “Ideally, no further than five meters.”

“In that case, let’s move the staff to the lounge. Our impending visitors might find it odd if you’re standing around in the cargo bay for no apparent reason.”

Shang handed his shorter staff to Eva. Without dismissing his cantrip, Shang walked over to the wall, and made a gesture like he was grabbing the staff. Dietrich pointed toward the stairs, and the entire group ascended to the top deck and entered the lounge area. This small space was directly off of the central corridor, and had the same purpose as the one on the Faith from which it had been copied. Three couches and a coffee table offered a casual spot just to the aft of the conference room, though a wall-mounted monitor allowed anyone there to stay apprised of what might be going on elsewhere. Hourglass-shaped windows on the starboard side of the hull gave way to a generous view of the exterior.

Shang’s actions implied that he had placed the staff against the bulkhead, and he settled into one of the couches, placing his heels on the coffee table.

“I have a million questions for you,” Dietrich said to him, “but I don’t want to be an ungracious host. Is there anything I can get for you?”

Mungavin’s voice interrupted her. “Ma’am, a heavy cruiser is drawing abeam. Shall I prepare the port-side airlock?”

“Of course. We’ll head to the Zero-G room to greet them.”

“Aye.”

Dietrich turned to Shang. “This is where the rubber meets the road, Mister Shang. Any last uncertainty, and you should let us know now.”

“This is Initiate-level stuff; don’t worry about it.”

“Okay, because the alternative is a close-quarters firefight, with my people crammed into a corridor while you sit here with your feet up.”

Shang waved his hand, and the lights in the room flickered. “They’d be fried to a cinder before they fired a shot.”

Dietrich was not reassured by this display; instead, her anxiety only worsened. Even though she knew her all of crew were armed, she found her gaze settling on Brockway’s waistline, to confirm that she had her pistol. Evangeline had hers as well, in addition to Shang’s staff. At the same moment, Zeta entered the room, her own sidearm in clear view.

Leaving Shang to his reclining, she and the other three headed aft to the Zero-G room. As with the Faith, this area was kept clear in case they needed to deactivate the artificial gravity or depressurize the room. They waited by the port-side airlock until the indicator light turned from red to green, then Zeta unlocked the inner door.

A half-dozen armed and armored Anachronian soldiers entered. They each had energy rifles slung over their shoulders, and wore sidearms in thigh holsters. Dietrich identified herself, and welcomed them to the Percheron.

“I’m Petty Officer Vendrigan,” one of them said in response. “Last chance to hand over the contraband before we tear your ship apart.”

“There’s no need to be so heavy-handed,” said Dietrich. “We’ll open any compartment you want, and I’m sure your scanners are capable of inspecting void spaces or areas you suspect have been intentionally hidden from you.”

“Oh, if it’s here, we’ll find it. Graffias, you’re up.”

A seventh man boarded the ship. He was wearing what Dietrich would describe as a martial arts uniform, dark red in color, its tunic secured by a brown leather belt, and a gray robe, its hem almost reaching the floor. He was not an Anachronian; if she had to guess, she would say he was Primarian or Matesian. He bore no weapons that she could see, other than a wooden sword, carved in the Japanese katana style. The hair on the back of her neck stood up.

“You’ve brought your own Sortarius, I take it?” she asked.

“Your comparison is damning,” Graffias began, “especially for someone who claims ignorance of such things.”

Just then realizing that someone else had entered the room, Dietrich looked over her shoulder. Shang was there, grasping Amity’s staff in both hands, the hardwood implement plainly visible for all to see.

“Traitor,” he hissed.

With a practiced snap, Zeta brought her pistol to bear, and the next thing that Dietrich knew, everybody was pointing weapons at each other. The Anachronian soldiers had unlimbered their rifles with terrifying speed, while her own people held their pistols steady at eye level. Graffias held his sword with one hand, and stared unwaveringly at Shang. Dietrich held up her hands.

“Everybody just chill the fuck out,” she said.

In an instant, blinding electrical bolts shot out of the room’s several power receptacles, striking each of the soldiers. All of them collapsed, unconscious. One searing, crackling bolt arced a path from the outlet to Graffias, but his sword seemed to absorb the energy with no harm to him. Dietrich and her companions pointed their pistols at him.

“Child’s play,” he said.

Dietrich’s body seized up, pain coursing through every nerve, and her world quickly faded to black.

_____

Evangeline felt a curious tingling in her arms as an electric bolt struck the staff she was carrying. She had instinctively closed her eyes when the room had filled with lightning, and when she opened them, only she, Shang, and Graffias were left standing. She holstered her pistol and grasped the staff with both hands. When Shang had first offered it to her, she felt some of the same reassurance that Amity’s staff imparted to her, though it was far less noticeable if she wasn’t actively thinking about it. Shang and Graffias were still staring hatefully at each other.

“What kind of perversion did you come up with to allow yourself to be in league with these fascists?” asked Shang.

“Probably the same reason you’ve given a Staff of the Archon to this random woman,” replied Graffias, gesturing at Eva. “Perhaps all of our Order could be called apostates now, with all of us left to fend for ourselves.”

“Things are not as dire as you imply. Stand down, and we can talk about it.”

As much as she was itching for a fight with this guy, Eva had a greater obligation. Even if the Anachronian soldiers had been merely knocked unconscious, the consequences could not be ignored.

“I’ll leave you two to your feud,” she said. “This is not my problem.”

Eva slowly backed away, headed for the central corridor. Shang winked at her as she moved. As soon as she’d exited, and began to make her way back to the bridge, the sounds of combat followed her, echoing down the hallway. If she had to guess, the two men were exchanging parries, though the clash of wood-on-wood was much louder than it should have been. The lights flickered, and she quickened her pace.

Moving down the port-side corridor, she arrived on the bridge. Haverbrook, Mungavin, Mintaka, Al-Nilam, and Ogden were all there, and looked at her expectantly.

“Signal our fleet,” began Eva. “We need to go light immediately. Negotiations have failed. Dietrich, Brockway, and that other lady are all disabled.”

“Destination?” asked Mungavin.

“Anywhere but here.”

“They’ll be expecting us to rabbit,” said Mintaka. “I’m sure we’ll be followed.”

“Scherer will figure out how to lose them. Just send the message, and as soon as a set of coordinates are agreed on, Haverbrook, lock ‘em in and get us out of here. The rest of you, arm yourselves if you haven’t already, because we’re going to have prisoners. Unless Shang loses; then, I don’t know what we’ll do.”

Haverbrook said, “You’re forgetting, we’re still coupled with the Anachronian cruiser.”

“Damn it. Can you disconnect the gangway from here?”

Mintaka said, “I can close our airlock doors, but I can’t force the cruiser to disconnect its couplings. If Haverbrook maneuvers away, there may be damage to one or both vessels.”

“That’s the least of our problems!”

“Coordinates received from the Reckless Faith,” said Mungavin.

Haverbrook pushed forward on the throttle. There was a thump as the Percheron tore itself free from the docking couplings.

“No damage registered,” said Mintaka. “We should be clear to go light.”

“Good, let’s get the hell out of here.”

Haverbrook initiated the FTL drive. Eva turned around and headed back toward the Zero-G room.

“If you’re armed, follow me,” she said.

Mintaka and Al-Nilam got up and ran down the corridor beside her, each drawing their sidearms. The sounds of combat from aft had ceased, and they burst through the door. A grisly scene met their eyes. Blood, viscera, and bone coated the floor, aft bulkhead, and a section of the ceiling. The six Anachronian soldiers, and their three crewmates, lay motionless on the floor. Shang was sitting on the deck, leaning against the wall, breathing heavily. Al-Nilam vomited.

“Graffias has been defeated,” puffed Shang.

“I can see that,” said Eva, grimacing at the sight. “Are you okay?”

“I’m exhausted, but unharmed. We should deal with the Anachronians, they’ll be awake soon. They and your friends should only have minor burn injuries.”

Eva and the others checked on the crew, and confirmed they were still breathing. They dragged them out into the corridor, then returned to gather up both the Anachronian’s weapons, and the wooden sword that Graffias had been carrying. Next, Mintaka closed and locked the door to the Zero-G room.

“Ogden, this is Adeler. You’re needed in the aft corridor.”

“I’ll be right there,” he replied over the intercom.

“Shang, why don’t you go back to the lounge area and sit down? We’ve got everything under control for now.”

He nodded, and walked away. Doctor Ogden arrived, and began to evaluate the trio that had been injured.

“What do you want to do about the soldiers?” asked Mintaka.

“I’m not going in there without an armed escort,” said Ogden.

“I meant in general.”

Eva said, “When they regain consciousness, we can communicate with them over the intercom. We’ll let them know that they need to cooperate with us if they want food, water, medical care, or help cleaning up that mess. If they’re stubborn, we’ll transport some supplies to them, anyway. No need to treat them poorly.”

Dietrich, Brockway, and Zeta woke up, and were able to walk, so Mintaka, Al-Nilam, and Ogden helped them descend the nearest set of stairs to the medical bay. Eva double-checked that the door to the Zero-G room was secure, scooped up the wooden sword, then went to join Shang in the lounge. He was reclining on one of the couches, his eyes closed.

“I’m going to need some time to rest before I do anything like that again,” he said.

“What, exactly, did you do?”

His reply seemed strained. “I suckered him into concentrating on repelling my strikes with my staff, until I sensed that most of his energy was being spent on mitigating its blows. Then, I hit him with all the power that the staff could muster, at once. I’ve never done that before, and I was rather surprised to see the results.”

“I’m impressed his bokken survived that.”

“Bokken?”

“The wooden sword.”

“Oh, he blocked it. The force channeled through his weapon and into his body. I doubt you’ll be able to find his hands in there anywhere.”

“Grim. Shang, we have a basic idea of how your weapons are so powerful, but can’t rectify that with our own base of knowledge. Would you be willing to help us out with that? Our fight with the Chimeras may depend on it.”

“It’s not my decision to make. I’m beholden to higher powers than myself.”

Eva sat down next to him. “You mentioned possibly knowing how we could recreate a wormhole, to travel quickly back to Sadal Biham. I assume you’re talking about more of your kind, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then perhaps there will be someone there that outranks you.”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

Eva clutched the wooden sword. She could see the golden patterns on its surface, and sense the similarity to the staffs that she and Shang already had. Its shape better lent itself to her skills and experience, and she found herself quite enamored with it.

“This weapon of Graffias. Is it imbued with the same abilities as a Staff of the Archon?”

“Seems that way. I’d have to actually hold it to know for sure.”

She offered it to him, but his eyes were still closed.

“My allies and I are going to need to know our next destination as soon as possible. We can continue to make random heading changes, but we shouldn’t stray too far from where we’re going.”

“Perdition.”

“I’m sorry, that’s the name of the planet?”

“Yes. Perdition. The lost planet.”

Shadow of the Chimera (Reckless Faith VII), Chapter 14

Spoiler alert: This is a new entry for the 7th book in the Reckless Faith series. The prologue may be found here: https://devonai.wordpress.com/2022/12/15/reckless-faith-vii-prologue/

Editorial note: The city of New Haven has been renamed to New Solace.

Evangeline stood on the sidewalk in the underground city of New Solace, watching the chaos of the perpetual nightlife that a place with no sun could provide. Though she was alone, despite the objections of her friends, the risky plan that they had hatched to get the attention of the rumored resident Sartorius begged for as few participants as possible. The information that Lesath gave them may have been grossly exaggerated, but if one of these people was even a fraction as powerful as alleged, anyone confronting them could end up as a red stain on the pavement.

Eva carried her Beretta, and Amity’s staff. Both had raised no objections from the security guards that allowed her entry into the city, although they were far more interested in the gold ingots she had slid to them across the counter at the checkpoint. After that, her presence had been thoroughly ignored by the citizens of the subterranean citadel, which would normally be a good thing. However, Eva aimed to misbehave, though as innocuously as possible. The confidence that the staff imparted to her also gave her a strong sense that it would only protect her if her actions were genuine. She had an innate feeling that if she started a fight with bad intentions, the staff would be only as useful as a length of hardwood.

That left her with a dilemma. Considering all of the carousing and gambling going on around her, starting trouble would be as easy as stepping on someone’s toes. After thinking over how she wanted to proceed for a few minutes, and staring at the staff as if to gain its approval, she made up her mind. She was going to get drunk, the best state to be in to blur the line between good and bad intentions.

She wandered down the main drag, continuing to encounter indifferent locals, until she found a bar that was slightly more interesting than the others. This one sported an entrance to a basement area, and the ubiquitous bouncer that stood as a sentinel there was almost certainly more capable of immediate and definitive violence than his peers. Those who spent a lifetime at the top of the food chain inevitably carried themselves a certain way, as did this man. He was an Anachronian, which gave Eva pause, but his vestments were casual. She retrieved another gold bar, and wordlessly presented it to him. He scanned it, and her, then pocketed the payment.

“What’s with the staff?” he asked.

“Bad knee.”

“Whatever. You’ll have to leave your magazines with me.”

Eva grabbed her two spare mags from the belt pouch on her left hip, then popped out the one in her pistol, and handed all three over. The man put them in a locker behind him.

“Do you want the one in the chamber, too?”

“Consider your last round as parity for your last round here, however that ends up working out. Either should be used with care.”

She nodded at the cryptic but appreciated warning, and descended into the depths of the bar. She was mildly surprised to find that it was well-lit, clean, and orderly. A local amphibian strummed a large stringed instrument on a small stage, and about half a dozen patrons feigned interest in the performance as they nursed their cocktails. While some smoked tobacco or a similar substance, a ventilation system carried away the smoke almost immediately. The architectural style of the small space reminded her of a wine cellar, replete with brick buttresses and archways.

The bar was a bit unusual, in that it was a bare mahogany counter, without stools, and with no bottles or taps in plain sight. The front of the bar was carved ornately, depicting a hunter in the woods, armed with a bow, targeting a slender, horned animal. A female Kau’Rii sat behind it, her nose and ears pierced with multiple colorful rings, and smiled at Eva as she approached. As she ordered any type of grain alcohol, cured in a charred cask, she began to suspect that she had chosen poorly, at least in terms of what she was trying to accomplish. Even still, she could at least get started on her mission with the glass of brown liquor that was offered to her.

The drink tasted of citrus and hickory. She drained the glass, and wordlessly urged the Kau’Rii to refill it. She listened to the music, absent-mindedly passing the staff from hand to hand as she waited for the alcohol to have an effect on her empty stomach. It didn’t take long. Hoping to appear wanton, she finished the glass and ordered another. While a handful of patrons departed, and a few others appeared, no one seemed to be paying her any mind.

“This place is for geriatrics!” she exclaimed suddenly. “Where’s the real action around here?”

“Were you blindfolded before you got here?” asked the bartender, annoyed. “Go back out to the street, and follow your ears or your nose if your eyes aren’t working.”

Eva reached into her pocket, grabbed the rest of her gold, and made a show of dropping the bars on the floor, before retrieving them and slapping them on the bar. She then headed for the stairs. The booze seemed to catch up to her in a hurry, and she found herself grabbing onto the railing lest she topple over. As she ascended, carefully placing one foot in front of the other, she began to wonder what the alcohol content of the drinks was. It certainly didn’t taste any stronger than whiskey. She glanced over her shoulder, and was relieved to see that two hooded men were also leaving, their eyes fixed on her. They pretended to ignore her as she retrieved her magazines from the guard.

When she emerged onto Scorpion Ave, the crowds in that area had dissipated. She lurched in the opposite direction of the main elevator banks, into a section with broken streetlights, and motionless figures curled up under filthy blankets, indifferent to the rodents that sniffed at their heels. Her two followers quickened their pace, intent on laying hands on her. She whirled around, tracing a semi-circular path on the pavement with one end of the staff, and brought it up in a defensive stance. Her opponents both brandished pistols, though she couldn’t tell what type.

“You were looking for action?” one of them sneered.

“I gave all my money to the bartender,” she replied.

“That’s bad news for you,” the other growled.

Eva envisioned what she wanted to happen next, and had a strong feeling the staff would cooperate. The first man gestured at her hip.

“You going to try to clear leather, or what?”

She stepped to her left, blocking the second man’s line of sight with his companion, and swung the staff toward the first man’s face. He mashed the trigger of his pistol, which made a sound like water being thrown on a fire. No shot came out, and her staff impacted the bottom of his chin. What should have been a glancing, if painful blow, instead lifted him off his feet and tossed him two meters away. His friend, now with an unobstructed view, fired three shots from a projectile pistol, the muzzle flashes illuminating the grimace on his face.

Eva swept the staff to her right, in a smooth movement that covered her whole body. She was unsure what happened to the rounds, except none impacted her. She struck out at the man, this time leading with her left hand, and caught him in the side of the head. This time, the staff made an audible noise, akin to gunshot, and it tore through the man’s hood and carried itself through the swing with little resistance. The man’s headless body collapsed instantly as the contents of his cranial cavity splashed garishly on a nearby wall.

Grinning, despite the macabre display, Eva walked up to the first man. His neck was twisted into an unnatural angle, and his eyes were locked open in shock. She reached down and picked up his weapon, which was an energy pistol. She patted the staff, nodding her head.

“Good job, buddy.”

At this point, her head was spinning, and she sincerely hoped that the staff’s performance would catch the attention of the Sartorius, if there was one. For now, she had to make it back to the Percheron’s shuttle, which was parked above ground. Luckily, her scuffle hadn’t drawn any attention, and her wobbly trip back to the elevators went without further incident. She emerged from the elevator car, squinting at the bright light, and shuffled across the hard-packed desert sand to the shuttle. Grateful to be relatively safe again, she grabbed a bottle of electrolyte water from a storage cabinet, and drank half of it. Then, she shed her jacket and weapons on the floor next to the pilot chair, and sank into it. She fired off a text message to her allies with an update, and got a cursory reply.

After a few minutes, she got up again. As much as she would have liked to take a nap, it would be better if she stayed awake. Toward that end, she retrieved a medical kit, popped a 100-mg pill of Modafinil, and began to set up an IV with a 1000-ml bag of Ringer’s Lactate. While neither of those treatments would help her metabolize the alcohol she had consumed any faster, they might prevent her from feeling dreadful in a few hours. Once the IV was set up, and perfusing through her left arm, she scanned herself with the PDA from the kit. Her BAC was 0.16, double the legal limit back on Earth, but nothing she couldn’t handle.

“I’ve become a light-weight,” she muttered to herself.

No stranger to drinking alone over the years, she queued up a John Prine album on the shuttle’s computer, and put her feet up on the console.

About an hour later, the bag had run out, so she disconnected herself from the IV line and put an adhesive bandage on her arm. Though she wasn’t particularly hungry, some food would do her good, so she poked around the shuttle until she found a box of MREs. Helpfully, someone had printed out a list of what was in each meal, so she opened a meal to grab the honey mustard pretzels inside. She had just finished eating them when there was a light tap on the outer hatch.

She checked the external cameras, and there was a man standing there. He was dressed in gray from head-to-toe, including what Eva would call a boonie hat, with the only splash of color being a ruby-hued gem suspended around his neck on a simple string. He leaned on a staff of about one meter in length. His outward appearance was that of a Caucasian human in his forties, and he had long blonde hair tied back into a ponytail.

Her pulse quickened, and she picked up her own staff. She thought about what it would be like to clonk him on the head with it, and it made her sick to her stomach, then thought about giving him a hug, which felt really groovy. So, she opened the outer and inner doors, and bade him to enter. She immediately noticed that his staff had the same golden engravings as hers.

“Thank you,” he said, and sat in one of the jumpseats toward the rear. “You can call me Shang.”

“Evangeline. Do I have the pleasure of hosting a Sartorius?”

“I am but a humble messenger. I do have some questions for you, though.”

Eva offered him a bottle of water, which he accepted. “Okay.”

“Do you know what it is that you hold in your hand, other than the obvious?”

“The Anachronians called it a Sortarii artifact, before they attempted to confiscate it.”

“And you know their words to be true, since you or someone you know has seen at least some of its potential.”

“That’s right. I’ve seen it first-hand. Both by its original owner, and then to my own benefit.”

“May I ask how it came to be in your possession?”

“It was carried by a Kau’Rii woman named Amity Jeunesse, a member of a freelance vessel. Do you know about the Stymphalian Raptors?”

“In what context?”

“That of the Kira’To.”

Shang leaned back, appearing to become more guarded. “The legend is that the Kira’To created three civilizations, with different mission statements, to see how they would fare in the galaxy. If this is true, or what became of them, no one knows.”

“Man, do I have a story for you. I hope you’ve cleared up your afternoon. I’ll give you a huge spoiler for now, though: Amity was killed by coming into contact with a Kira’To, although I’m not sure that being did so maliciously. She was reduced to a pile of ashes, but the staff was undamaged.”

“You witnessed this?”

“Yes, it was quite horrible.”

“Did this Jeunesse person ever refer to herself with a title?”

“Before challenging the Kira’To, she called herself ‘Acolyte’.”

“Curious. Miss Evangeline, before you recovered the staff, had you yourself ever experienced abilities or perceptions that some might call supernatural?”

“Yes. I’ve seen a lot of combat, and I’m always calm, far out of proportion with my upbringing or combat training. If I displayed any other sociopathic tendencies, that might not be unusual, but I’m otherwise normal in temperament and empathy. More significantly, when I was much younger, I was involved in a project to create a new medical device. We were able to put together a viable prototype, except that the thing only worked when I was the one using it. After much research, we were forced to conclude that I was interacting with it in a way that our science couldn’t understand. I was removed from the project, due to some other difficulties, and the device was never put into production.”

Shang thought for several moments before replying. “I hate to be so rude as to issue you an ultimatum, especially since I sense no dishonesty from you, but you cannot be allowed to continue to possess that staff without being trained by the Sortarii. It is more powerful than you can possibly imagine. So, I propose a compromise. Though I will ensure that you are so trained, you must forsake your current life and dedicate yourself to the Order. What I can promise in return are secrets of the universe so profound that our meat-brains are almost too small to understand them. You will also experience a sense of peace and belonging like nothing else in life can offer you.”

“Do I get a lightsaber, too?”

“If you can find one.”

“Ha! I was joking, but that doesn’t surprise me. Mister Shang, I’m on a mission, and I have obligations to my crewmates to see that through. This staff may be instrumental toward our goals. Let me ask you, what do you know about Chimeras?”

“I’m not familiar with the name. These are your enemies?”

“Yes. I mean, maybe.”

Eva took thirty minutes to tell Shang about the Stymphalian Raptors, their adventures there, and everything she knew about the Chimeras, including how her ship and the others ended up in that part of the galaxy. He leaned forward, listening with fascination.

Shang sipped from his bottle. “You said the Chimeras exist in the same realm as the Kira’To?”

“That’s what Aquila told us.”

“I would tell you that the Kira’To exist in our realm, though I suppose that depends on how you define the word. Perception always dictates reality, after all.”

“Interesting. One of our ancient sages referred to this as the Allegory of the Cave. Think of some unfortunate souls who have spent their entire lives chained to the wall of a cave. They cannot move or turn their heads, and all they can see are shadows on the wall cast by a fire behind them. Others travel through the cave, ignoring the prisoners, but casting their shadows on the wall, and the imprisoned can hear their voices. To the prisoners, the shadows on the wall, and those echoes of voices, are all of reality, because that is all that they can perceive. Though they may have a vague idea of what these other people look like, or what objects they might carry in their hands, it’s a poor representation of reality.”

“That’s quite apt. Miss Evangeline, I can’t tell you anything about the Chimeras, so instead I’ll speculate based on their supposed similarity to the Kira’To. Fight them you can, but you’ll need to break the bonds that chain you to the cave wall. However, there’s only so much I can tell you as an outsider to the Order. Since I know your friends can’t wait years for a resolution back in the Third Outer Arm, and I’ve decided I’d rather not kill you to recover that staff, that leaves only one option left.”

“You’ll join our team?”

“Precisely.”

“That’s generous of you, but it’ll take weeks for our fastest ship and years for our slowest ships to get back there. Unless you happen to know how to generate a wormhole, you’d be committing to a long time away from home.”

“Can I assume you got loads of sensor data on the wormhole before you were dragged in?”

“Yes. Well, some, anyway.”

“I’ll take a look at it. I may know some people who can help.”

Shadow of the Chimera (Reckless Faith VII), Chapter 13

Spoiler alert: This is a new entry for the 7th book in the Reckless Faith series. The prologue may be found here: https://devonai.wordpress.com/2022/12/15/reckless-faith-vii-prologue/

John had never been aboard an Umberian Mark XVII. Though he was familiar with the external appearance of one, thanks to Aldebaran being the former captain of one, that ship was destroyed before he had a chance to see the inside. It was a shame what happened to that unnamed vessel, even though it had met its demise at Aldebaran’s own hand.

Under a temporary truce, Captain Lesath had invited John and Vecky aboard the Antares, while Penrose and Christie were making every effort to save her first mate. Penrose hadn’t even finished stitching up Cane when Sargas was brought to his operating table, and the stalwart surgeon had to slap a bandage on Cane’s arm and quickly move on to the more dire patient. Sargas had been hit several times by the rounds fired by Penrose, and all but two had been stopped by his body armor. The other pair of copper-jacketed lead bullets had hit him in the neck and face, rendering him unconscious, and perilously close to bleeding out. Penrose hadn’t offered his opinion on whether or not Sargas could be saved.

Lesath had refused treatment for her facial laceration, and even though she was clearly quite upset at the state of her friend, she had made the offer to the other two captains to visit her ship. John was initially confused at the suggestion, especially since Lesath hadn’t objected to her guests holding onto their pistols, and he had to speculate that she was trying to distract herself with something else. She was also acting fairly reckless, from a security standpoint, and John had to wonder if the state of Sargas had made her lose her nerve for her line of work.

Whatever her true motivation, John was glad to have the opportunity for a tour of the Antares. If Seth’s memory hadn’t been so badly fragged when he arrived on Earth, this is what the Reckless Faith would look like. While only three decks in height, it was much longer than his own ship, with more of an eye toward aesthetics than his own design. Its sweeping, graceful lines from the bow to the stern also resulted in a wider beam, further increasing the interior space. The stardrive and engines were roughly in the same place, but unlike the Faith, the latter were placed in nacelles outside of the hull proper. The nacelles jutted out from port and starboard like a pair of stubby wings, though they obviously provided no aerodynamic benefit during atmospheric flight.

The most radical difference between the vessels was that the bridge of the Antares was placed amidships, about thirty meters back from the bow, on the top deck. Other than windows set in the ceiling, the crew was totally reliant on screens and external cameras for visibility. The advantage to such an arrangement was that the bridge was better protected against damage. It also had seven stations, in addition to a command chair and a pilot chair.

John didn’t ask about any weaponry during the tour, and Lesath didn’t volunteer that information, but the two ventral and two dorsal plasma turrets were easy to spot from the exterior. Unless the ship had been modified or retrofitted since its construction, there would also be fore and aft plasma cannons, and port and starboard laser banks. Even if Seth had been capable of providing this design, those weapons wouldn’t have been available to the crew of the Faith at the time they built it, since they only had enough neptunium for the stardrive. Still, there was plenty about the Antares for John to be envious of it. It also had a full kitchen, rather than just a galley, and it was there that Lesath, Vecky, and John gathered to continue their conversation.

They were accompanied by Fuchner, another Umberian, who had introduced himself as the ship’s engineer. He and John were eager to talk at length about each other’s ships, but they weren’t at that level of trust yet. There were also more pressing matters to discuss. John had already given Lesath a summary of the liberation of Umber, and of their experience with the Chimeras, as they toured the ship. She offered her guests a cup of yutha, and the three sat down at a table.

“The Chimeras remind me of ghost stories I’ve heard over the years” Lesath began, “you know, the type that end with ‘and no one lived to tell the tale.’ Which makes you wonder; how did the story get out? Anyway, Commander Scherer, I can’t tell you anything else about them. You’ve got quite the problem, should anything be left of Sadal Biham or Vastus by the time you get back there.”

John nodded. “That’s why we’re sticking around to gather information. What about the Sortarii?”

“Catch them while they’re sleeping, or don’t catch them at all.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“The Order of the Sortarii wield technology so advanced that it appears to be magical. While they sometimes imbue objects to facilitate a function more easily, they can also draw power from the world around them, and some say the universe itself. Individually, you might stand a chance against one, if you hit them with a rail gun from half a parsec away. Despite that, some military powers like Anachronia have allegedly found ways to defeat them, and the Order has all but gone into hiding. At least, that’s the rumor; I’ve never encountered a Sortarius.”

“Might we be able to convince them to help us?”

“I have no way of answering that, except that as recently as my father’s first arrival in this sector, they were seen as a force for good. Lawmen, peacekeepers, et cetera. I can only speculate that some more xenophobic or statist types took exception to their power, or their meddling in their affairs, for better or for worse.”

Vecky asked, “Did they have a home world, or a base of operation at one time?”

“I don’t know that either. All I can tell you is that there are rumors of a Sortarii living somewhere on Far Reach, ‘up in the mountains,’ who can heal diseases or impart wisdom to a pilgrim. And no, I don’t know which continent.”

“Even if such a person is there,” began John, “they could be a charlatan or a lunatic.”

“Exactly. If you ask me, you’d be wasting your time looking for them.”

“What do you know about any technologies that have been used against them?”

Lesath sipped from her mug. “Nothing, such things are closely-guarded secrets by the governments that invented them. Believe me, I’d love to kit out the Antares with something like that. Look, if there’s nothing else, I should really get this wound treated. Since I know you and Fuchner are champing at the bit to talk about our ships, you’re welcome to stay a bit longer. Fuchner, you’re authorized to tell them anything about the original configuration of the Antares. You catch my drift?”

“I do,” the man replied.

Lesath stood up. “Then I’ll leave you to it. Please let me know the instant you hear about Sargas.”

“Of course, I will,” replied John.

Lesath took one more draught from her cup, and exited into the corridor. Fuchner moved the cup to his side of the table.

“You’re lucky she’s so distracted by the state of our friend,” he said. “She’s not usually in such a forgiving mood. Is it true that Sargas is being treated by the same person who shot him?”

“Yes,” said Vecky. “Don’t worry, he’s a very skilled surgeon.”

“In more ways than one, it sounds. So, Commander Scherer, tell me about the Reckless Faith.”

__________

Shang Fuyue sat in the cockpit of his single-seat fighter, in a high orbit around Anachronia VI. Though his eyes were closed, he could see things no normal man could. A thousand threads of energy emanated from the shipyard, in every direction, each as clear as beacon, but only one concerned him. Based on what he wanted, it glowed brighter than the others, though its terminus remained unclear at first. Drawing into his reserve of effort, he coaxed the thread to point in a direction he could understand. Then came the hard part.

Holding onto that image, he opened his eyes. Like the after image of a brilliant light, the thread immediately began to fade, and he worked frantically with his computer to correlate a vector with it. The difficulty of doing so was magnified by the fact that the path wasn’t straight; whoever had taken the staff away from this place had done so by first moving away from the barycenter of the system, then out of it completely. The image was almost gone before he was able to determine its ultimate direction. The ship that hosted the staff had gone toward Far Reach.

Satisfied, but already feeling like he needed a nap, he punched the familiar coordinates into his navigation system, then powered up his FTL drive, only to receive an error message. A fuel regulator valve was out of alignment, and while he could override and initiate the fold anyway, such a choice was incredibly dangerous, and should be reserved only for the direst emergency. He cursed the core for such stupid luck, and considered whether to request permission to dock with the shipyard again, or get out of Anachronian space and attempt to fix it on his own. Either way, he was glad he was able to get a vector before the distraction became known to him.

His course of action was chosen for him by the approach of an Anachronian heavy cruiser, and an incoming transmission.

“Pulse Zero,” the voice began, using the call sign he had registered with the station, “you are hereby ordered to stand down and submit to inspection, as authorized by Anachronian law, over.”

Fuyue had no intention of doing that, instead pushing forward on the throttle lever and heading toward open space. His mind raced, trying to think of how they could have become suspicious of him – a quick glance at his console confirmed that his countermeasures were working just fine – before checking his weapons and defensive systems. Was it the watch-maker that reported him? He sensed no prevarication from her; the comment about being a Sortarius was purely in jest. There must have been something else, perhaps a type of scan his Order hadn’t yet become aware of. At the moment, none of that mattered.

The cruiser pursued, and launched fighters in response to his flight. As a long-time resident of Far Reach, he was well-aware of their capabilities, and they were not to be taken lightly. Fortunately, his ship-board weapons would be effective against them, and after so much time of being isolated, he found himself reveling in what was about to happen. For the sheer amusement of messing with them, he steered his fighter toward Anachronia Prime, and ignored the bright blue plasma shots that streaked past him. He nudged his control column, juking just enough to give them a targeting challenge. When it became evident that his opponents couldn’t hit the long side of a silo, he decided to engage them.

There were seven fighters opposing him. Once he’d pulled a 180, they broke off in a predictable pattern, with four taking a sharp turn at an acute angle, and the remaining three trying to stay on his six. He pulled up, went inverted relative to them, and got a firing solution on one of the trio. His 27mm cannons barked, the tracers showing him a path straight to the cockpit of one of the ovoid ships, piercing it from stem to stern.

He pushed down on the stick, and reached out with his mind rather than look at his screen. The enemy fighters had gathered at his rear easily enough, and plasma bolts lit up his field of view, with a few impacting his ship with disconcerting vibrato. He stomped on his rudder pedals and pulled back on the throttle, causing the four in pursuit to overshoot him. Again, he made his course toward their home planet.

“Fuck it,” he uttered, and overrode the valve.

One of the fighters went light for a microsecond, and appeared directly in front of him. At the same moment, he initiated his own FTL. He squeezed the trigger, but his ship was already outpacing the rounds. He saw a series of images in a moment; the tracers impacting the fighter, the steely expression of the pilot, the back of his seat, and the guts of the engines from the inside, all curiously elongated as he appeared to pass through them. Fortunately, that was just an illusion, and if the other guy’s ship survived his fusillade, he would be fine. Still, it was the first time Fuyue had ever done that, and it wasn’t a maneuver he’d ever care to repeat.

The fuel regulator valve continued regulating, and there were no other warning indicators on his console, so he figured there was a problem with the sensor and not the valve itself. If he was wrong, his atoms would end up scattered across a wide swath of space in an instant. A fitting end, he thought, for a Sortarius.

Some hours later, he arrived at Far Reach, and established a high orbit. The trail had run cold, which didn’t surprise him. He had to hope that whoever had custody of the staff was still around. His luck may have run out, however, and doubly-so since his efforts to track the object this far had left him physically exhausted. He was in no shape for a fight, at least one in which he could take advantage of his special skills. He allowed himself one more mental exertion – an attempt to get a sense if he was in any direct danger from anyone – and feeling nothing, decided on his next destination.

He guided his ship into the atmosphere, and headed to Valley Crest. He set his transponder to the frequency he wanted, which would guarantee uninterrupted passage into the city, and came down for a landing on a pad near the building he wanted. He had a well-appointed apartment there, and not sensing that he had the need for any of his actual hiding spots, he was looking forward to taking advantage of its luxuries. He powered-down and secured his ship, and headed inside. The suspect valve could wait until tomorrow, and he was in need of a hot shower and a soft bed.

Shadow of the Chimera (Reckless Faith VII), Chapter 12

Spoiler alert: This is a new entry for the 7th book in the Reckless Faith series. The prologue may be found here: https://devonai.wordpress.com/2022/12/15/reckless-faith-vii-prologue/

In the cargo hold of the Reckless Faith, Evangeline sat cross-legged on a bare mattress on the floor, eyes closed, with Amity’s staff in her hands. She was using the austere and quiet space to try to reach Aquila, as she and her friends had many questions for the Kira’To. She had no idea if her attempt at communication would work, but after further experimentation with the staff had gone nowhere, spending some time alone and in meditation seemed to be as good an idea as any.

Though recent attempts at contact by she and Vecky hadn’t been fruitful, Eva had an odd feeling that clutching the staff during her effort might be helpful. It may have been her own mind playing tricks on her, but she did find it easier to relax while holding it. The gentle thrumming of the Faith’s engines was also quite peaceful. The only real challenge was staying awake.

After what seemed like half a day, she checked her PDA, only to discover that a scant two hours had passed. She sighed, shifted the staff to one side, and stood up.

“Lights to forty percent,” she said into the air.

The room became visible to her, though she had taken care not to make it too bright. She gazed at the intricate golden patterns on the surface of the staff. They reminded of her of how she felt about a year ago, when she was trying in earnest to learn how to read Cyrillic in advance of a planned trip to Crimea. She had struggled with the alphabet, but upon realizing that the script had a Greek origin helped a lot, as she was well-familiar with the latter. It was that strange feeling in the moment, right before the revelation, that the staff seemed to impart to her: the sensation of being on the cusp of a rewarding discovery. Alas, no amount of staring at the staff would force it to reveal its secrets. For that, they needed help.

Eva exited the hold and climbed the stairs to the galley. Feeling like she needed a break from the thing, she left the staff leaning against the bulkhead, and turned to head up the stairs to the top deck. As her foot hit the first step, she heard a clear voice in her head, which she instantly knew to be a silent message only for her.

“Take me,” said the staff, in a voice that had no character or inflection.

“Damn it,” replied Eva, turning on her back heel. “I’m not leaving you behind. Besides, you don’t belong to me exclusively.”

Shaking her head at the absurdity of talking to an inanimate object, she resumed her trip to the bridge. There, she found the rest of the crew engaged in idle conversation. They greeted her, and John spoke.

“Any luck?”

“Not exactly. No contact with a Kira’To, though I think the staff may have tried to communicate with me directly. I left it in the galley, and I could swear I heard a voice that told me to hold onto it.”

“Creepy!” said Ari.

“It was, in fact. I might just be going insane. Any word from the Fox?”

“Speak of the devil,” began Dana, “they’re messaging us now. I’ll put them through.”

Vecky’s image appeared on the main screen. Her hair was a perfect mess, and she spoke with an urgent tone.

“Anachronia put out a bounty on us. We had some, uh, difficulty, on Far Reach. Cane took a round to the bicep; Penrose has got him in surgery now. He, Faen, and I are okay, though just barely.”

“You encountered bounty hunters?” asked John.

“Yes, a Captain Lesath, if that was her real name. I’m pretty sure she survived the encounter, though two of her crew did not. We’re headed back to your location now, and we’re being pursued by a single ship.”

“Understood. Let them follow, we’ll give them a nice surprise when you get here.”

“Fine by me. ETA, one minute. Kitsune out.”

The screen returned to a view of the gorgeous glow of the galactic core.

“Percheron, this is the Reckless Faith, over.”

“Go ahead, Commander Scherer,” said Dietrich’s voice.

“The Fox is coming in hot. Hold your location and drop your invisibility shield. We need a show of force. One tango reported.”

“Wilco, out.”

“Alert the Supernova and the others, same sitrep.”

“Got it,” replied Dana. “I just dropped our own shield.”

“Good. Milly, look sharp. Gunners, take your positions.”

Richter, Ari, Devonai, and Ray left the bridge. Eva assumed the weapons station that Richter had just vacated. Friday jumped in her lap, and Tycho lay down at her feet.

“Looks like I’m popular with the animals today,” Eva said.

John looked over his shoulder. “They know something’s up. Seth gave them that gift.”

Eva stroked Friday’s jet-black fur. “So, should I be worried, or what?”

“I don’t know. Just be nice to them.”

Jumping into view directly in front of them, the Fox appeared. Moments later, a familiar type of ship appeared, off their stern at a distance of about a thousand yards.

“Holy shit,” said Dana.

“I see it,” breathed John.

“Context?” asked Eva.

“It’s an Umberian Mark Seventeen. It’s what the Reckless Faith was meant to be, and Aldebaran’s former ship. None were thought to have survived. Dana, hail them.”

“Channel open,” she said.

“This is the independent vessel Reckless Faith. Hold fast and state your intentions.”

The visage of a woman appeared on the main screen. She was quite clearly Umberian, with hair down to her shoulders, and wore a generic gray flight suit. Behind her, the bridge appeared to be deserted. A garish laceration across her left cheek had left blood streaming down her face and onto her neck, with apparently no effort on her part to treat it.

“Reckless Faith,” she began, “this is the Antares, Captain Lesath speaking. You, the Fox, and those three other ships are ordered to surrender, as authorized by 49 GLC 173.185, to a legal corral.”

“You’ve got giant, clanking brass balls to make that demand, outnumbered six-to-one. Do you not see what you’re up against? I’ve got an alternative proposal. Scan my ship, and tell me what you see.”

Lesath replied, after a moment. “Your ship’s energy profile registers as an Umberian Mark Seventeen.”

“That sounds like a pretty good conversation starter, don’t you think?”

“So what? After this much time, anyone could have gotten their hands on such a ship.”

“Yeah, but does it match yours in appearance? Curious, to say the least.”

“Quit being evasive and get to your point.”

“Have you received any word on what happened with Umber and the Zendreen invasion?”

Lesath scoffed. “For fuck’s sake, you are annoying. It might as well be ancient history at this point, what does it change between us?”

“So I’ll take that as a no. Captain Lesath, Umber has been liberated, and the Zendreen have been utterly wiped out. Now, I’m guessing you’re at least two generations removed from that imbroglio, so we’d be happy to update you.”

She took a deep breath. “I do have to wonder why your ship has the energy signature of a Mark Seventeen, while completely different in appearance. Since time isn’t at a premium right now, I’ll listen to your explanation.”

John gave her a summary of how the Faith came into existence, their adventures in the Tarantula Nebula, and the ultimate defeat of the Zendreen. Lesath drew a white handkerchief from her pocket, and began to dap it on the wound on her cheek.

“That’s quite a claim,” she said, wincing. “More likely, you’re an opportunistic thief, you and that other ship alike. I still don’t understand why you think this changes anything between us.”

“Come on,” said John, shaking his head. “You’re clearly outnumbered, and I’m extending you an olive branch. You can be skeptical about our story, but the truth is that we have no reason to fight. Let me ask you, does your ship have a replicator?”

“Yes.”

“Really? Then why are you taking on bounties? You can just replicate as much fungible material as you want and live your life in luxury.”

“We all need a reason for being.”

“True, but consider this: our replicator is working just fine, and whatever the Anachronian bounty is, we’ll double it, with whatever valuable metals you’d care to take. Captain Lesath, we should be allies, unless you ultimately hate Umber for however you ended up out here.”

Lesath stared off to the side. “This was my father’s ship.”

“Nobody would blame him for making a run to the core galaxy. The Zendreen were an unstoppable force. If not for that one probe making it to Terra, they would probably still have a stranglehold on Umber.”

“If what you say is true, then you’d be big damn heroes.”

John smiled. “We’d think so, except the rest of the galaxy has proved to be exponentially more dangerous than the Zendreen ever were. And yet, we’re still here.”

“What’s your purpose here? What did you do to piss off Anachronia enough for them to post a bounty worthy of a comfy retirement?”

“We’re here looking for information about Banshees, also known as Chimeras, as well as the Sortarii.”

Lesath looked pale. “Is that all? For a moment there, I thought you were going to propose something impossible.”

“Most people thought the liberation of Umber was impossible. We can fund your retirement, Captain Lesath, if that’s what you really want. All we ask in exchange is what you know about those two things.”

She seemed like she was about to burst into tears. “Do you have a decent surgeon?”

“Yes. If you have need of advanced medical care, we can help.”

“My first mate, Sargas, was grievously wounded during the fracas in New Haven. He’s holding on by a thread. If you can save him, then I’ll consider taking your payment.”

“That’s up to Captain Kitsune, it’s her ship with the doctor and the surgical bay.”

“Then I’ll power-down my weapons and ask her. Lesath out.”

The transmission terminated. John called the gunner crews back. Eva gave up her seat to Richter, and sat down in one of the jumpseats at the back of the bridge. By the time this had happened, the Fox was already headed toward the Antares, presumably to dock.

“I hope we just formed a new friendship,” began Christie, “despite the violence that preceded it. I also hope Lesath has some information we can use.”

John nodded. “That would be handy. If not, we’re stuck traveling to the next star system to continue our search. In fact, with the Anachronians on our asses, we may want to choose one a hundred or more light-years from here regardless. I wish we knew how large the Anachronians sphere of influence is.”

“Every shuffler in this entire spiral arm could be looking for us,” said Richter. “Another good reason to try to hire Lesath to our side. A Mark Seventeen would be a great addition to our little lost band of travelers, should we have to fight some bounty hunters.”

“I should be over there assisting Penrose,” said Christie. “I’ve been inside his head, I know what he knows.”

“You’re right,” replied John. “Milly, get us over to the Fox, on the opposite side from the Antares. We could have a lot riding on the survival of Mister Sargas.”

__________

Shang Fuyue calmly strolled down the concourse on the Anachronia VI space station, observing everyone, and interacting with no one. He occasionally stopped to adjust his outfit, which he didn’t like, but it was entirely necessary for him look the part of a normal spacer. It wasn’t that his shirt, pants, boots, and jacket didn’t fit – they were fine for his body – only that he much preferred simpler garb. He was also without any of his physical weapons, not just due to the fact that they were prohibited on the station, but also that he was hip-deep in Anachronians, the sworn enemy of his kind. Such a state wasn’t personal, of course; they had no idea who he was. Still, his most powerful weapon was himself, and what he could do with the station’s systems, though more draining to use effectively.

Fuyue stopped to look at his reflection in a particularly shiny bulkhead outside of some sort of fragrance shop. His species made it easy for him to blend in, as a boringly-humanoid child of the galactic diaspora. He had no real fear of discovery by his unwitting hosts, since anything that might identify him as a Sortarius had been left on his ship, but as was the nature of the universe, one could never assume that any random person might not be sensitive to its patterns, and those who move among them like monkeys on vines in a verdant jungle. It was those patterns, obvious to anyone trained to seek them, that brought him so far from home, and into hostile territory.

He had been drawn to the station on a hunch, and thus hadn’t yet contacted the Order to let them know he was on the hunt. It was only after he exited his ship, and set foot on the concourse, that he realized the sensation pulling on his consciousness was real. Something had happened there, and of great magnitude. He continued to walk along the concourse, letting his instinct lead him, much like holding one’s finger in the air to determine the direction of the wind. As soon as he came within view of the security checkpoint for a docking station, some seventy-five meters away, he knew what he was looking for.

Someone there, quite recently, had used a Staff of the Archon.

As he drew nearer, he saw that the checkpoint had been roped off, and a sign posted that indicated the area had been closed for renovations. Looking past the cordon, there was no visible damage to anything, but his senses were screaming at him. The energy signature of something that powerful was unmistakable. A rush of adrenaline hit him, as he now knew what he must do, and it would provide a welcome change from the last several years of his self-imposed isolation on Far Reach, quite possibly the most boring planet in the galaxy.

Turning around, he saw a watchmaker’s shop directly across from the checkpoint. He headed inside, curious to see if the sign on the wall actually meant what it said. Indeed, the walls were lined with mechanical clocks, and the display cases were full of analog watches, both pocket-style and that meant to be worn on the wrist. Designs ranged from utilitarian to luxurious. The sounds of their operation met his ears, and it was a beat that he instantly liked; much like the pulse of the universe that he had been trained to feel.

Behind one of the counters sat an Anachronian woman, advanced in years, repairing a wristwatch. Fuyue gazed in appreciation at the web of tiny gears and springs inside the chassis of the small timepiece, which the woman was manipulating with considerable patience and skill. Eventually, she chose to acknowledge his presence, and glanced up at him, her right eye magnified by the loupe she had strapped to her head.

“Morning,” was all she had to say, and returned to her work.

“I’m surprise to see a shop like this in this place,” he said. “I wouldn’t have thought such ancient technology would be popular to anyone but the most fervent collector.”

“It’s a status symbol around here, popularized about twenty years ago. My husband and I learned the trade to take advantage of that.”

Fuyue pointed at a no-frills specimen that appeared to be robust in design. “How much for that one?”

She looked at the watch. “Fifteen credits. Be aware that it’s only calibrated for an Anachronian day. Others are adjustable between eighteen and thirty-six hour days, in two-hour increments, though they’ll run you more. Those ones also come with interchangeable faces for the desired period.”

“I’ll buy that one for forty-five, if you’ll come across with some information for me as well.”

She took off her loupe, and gave him her full attention. “Anything I could possibly tell you would be worth far less. But ask your questions.”

Fuyue nodded. “What happened at the security checkpoint across the way?”

“You mean yesterday?”

“Sure.”

“I didn’t see much. There was a loud thump, like a large piece of furniture falling over, and the next thing you know, soldiers are swarming the concourse. I did catch a glimpse of a woman holding a broom or something – I thought she was a soldier, too, by the way she was dressed – but she fled toward the airlock. Some military officers were brought out on stretchers not long after that.”

Fuyue rested his hands on the counter, and closed his eyes. He tried to imagine the scene she had described, until the images coalesced in his mind. The woman she spoke of was humanoid, with long brown hair tied back behind her head. She wore glasses, a camouflage jacket of mottled green and brown, and clutched a staff. A phrase jumped into his head.

“She who spoke the gospel.”

“What’s that now?”

He opened his eyes. “Sorry. What else can you tell me about that incident?”

“The military, and some people I believe were scientists, gave that checkpoint a lot of attention after that. As you can see, they shut it down, though for what reason, I couldn’t tell you.”

“Thanks.” He pulled out his PDA. “So I’ll take that watch. Forty-five credits, right?”

The woman rolled her eyes. “Fifteen. For the love of the core, not everything in this galaxy costs money. Sometimes people just feel like talking.”

“I wish that were the case more often.”

She grabbed her own PDA, allowed the two devices to handshake, then retrieved the watch. Fuyue accepted it, and held it up to his ear. Its rhythm brought him joy, and he realized the simple thing could help him concentrate when he needed to.

“You be careful out there, Sortarius.”

His heart leapt into his throat, and he gave the shopkeeper a hard look. She winked.

“I’m not…”

“I care not who you are, as long as you take your drama away from here. Your business, though, is appreciated.”