Renegade Rising Page 3

  “A sample,” repeated Davon. “Living and organic.”

  “Like the goop?” I asked, glancing at Dressler.

  He shook his head. “No, not at all. I think something specifically from Earth.”

  My mind flashed to Lex’s abduction at the hands of the Sarkonians. “You need to get me some specifics, Davon. I’m not in the mood for guessing games. The last time your people came to Earth in search of a living sample, they stole a child and refused to give her back.”

  Davon’s eyes went wide as craters. “Oh! I am terribly sorry, Captain Hughes, but there has been a gross misunderstanding. I mean an animal, not a person. I apologize for my—” He held both his hands up, swallowing as he nervously took a step back. “I didn’t mean to insult you, sir! He only wants an animal indigenous to Earth. That’s all, I swear to you.”

  “Oh, is that all?” I asked, not caring about my tone.

  “Y-Yes, sir. I’m so sorry, again,” he answered.

  I stared at him for five full seconds before the laugh escaped me. “Davon, you don’t know how close you just came to getting knocked on your ass.” I shook my head. “Alright, I’ll see what I can do. Any particular creature?”

  “I don’t believe it matters,” said Davon, beaming and delighted at the prospect. “I am sure that will be fine, so long as the animal was born on Earth.”

  “Speak with the Emperor,” I told him. “If he agrees that the animal will not be harmed or experimented on, I will agree to send one.”

  “I’ll do that right now. Thank you so much, Captain.” Davon scooted off like he thought I might change my mind. I shook my head at his quest for artifacts. Anything to advance his cause with that little brat in charge.

  “I have to admit I didn’t expect you to say yes,” Dressler murmured, watching him go and also shaking her head in mild disbelief. “They’re very likely to experiment on it, regardless of what you tell them.”

  “Let’s just say I have the perfect animal in mind,” I replied, rubbing my hands together.

  “Tell me it’s not a skunk. They’ll never forgive us.”

  I filed through all the mental images of Earth animals that I could remember, but that one didn’t sound familiar. “No. What’s that? I’m guessing it’s pretty fearsome if it put that look on your face.”

  She shook her head. “It emits a defensive spray that smells quite putrid, but I’ll save you the details.”

  “Is that so?” I asked, cocking my brow. “I’m starting to think your animal might be better than mine, after all.”

  “Before you forget, Captain,” said Dressler, leaning closer to me. She eyed the pad beside her, motioning with the slightest tilt of her head.

  “I’ll look into it,” I assured her, turning toward the door. “But let me know if anything else comes up about it.”

  She turned to the machine she had been examining when I first entered. “You know I will.”

  2

  I didn’t like the idea of someone spying. I suspected the Sarkonians, but I couldn’t go to them without any evidence. For that matter, Dressler had suggested a spy without any proof on her end, but I had to imagine she had a reason for thinking that way. She was so analytical and observant that there had to be more to it.

  As I returned to the Star, I began to plan how to use this information against the party responsible. Not only that, but how I might be able to prove it. “Lock the ship down, Siggy,” I ordered as soon as I was back aboard.

  “Is something the matter, sir?” the Cognitive asked in his usual tranquil tone. Maybe it was from being my companion for so long, or maybe it came from his transition to a fully realized Cognitive, but damn if he didn’t always know just the right tone to take with me. It helped me stay in control and keep my head on straight. That wasn’t always true, of course, but I knew enough about myself to see that Sigmond played a part in my survival. He kept me level, and that in turn kept me safe.

  “Maybe. The doc seems to think someone is keeping an eye on her down in the lower decks. I need you to run a scan for any listening devices the next chance you get.” I paused a moment, stopping in the hall of the ship and tilting my head. “You can do that, right?”

  “Of course,” he replied. “I’ll get to it straight away, sir.”

  It was hard to believe that a Sarkonian or Union individual could have planted spyware without any of us being the wiser. With all the continuous scanning going on throughout the artificial planet and its various layers, it was a wonder anyone thought they could get away with such a thing. Whoever was responsible ran the risk of their device being found immediately. Still, no one but Dressler had reported it, and even then, no proof had been presented. I had learned to trust the woman’s instincts by now, so I wouldn’t ignore them. If she said someone was watching, that was reason enough to investigate.

  I started to think of all the ways this breach of access could have happened. It might’ve been a simple old-fashioned recording device that didn’t use any outgoing signal—something small that could be picked up whenever the person was ready to take it back.

  “That is interesting,” said Sigmond, breaking me out of my own head.

  I leaned against the hallway railing. “Oh?” I asked. “Care to share with the rest of the class?”

  “There does appear to be a transmitter. The signal is quite subtle, so I am currently unable to pinpoint the exact location,” explained Sigmond. “I will have to probe carefully, so it may take some time to uncover who is responsible.”

  “Well, if it turns out to not be the Sarkonians, then it could be Vick,” I muttered, mostly to myself. “Are you saying you didn’t find anything specific, Siggy?”

  “On the contrary. The signal appears to have been present during my previous scans, but we dismissed it as part of the facility’s systems,” said Sigmond.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “The planet is, thus far, operating autonomously. We still have no idea where the power source is or what is regulating each of its systems. What we do know is that different parts of the facility communicate with one another over wired and wireless lines. There appears to be one such signal that is exclusively being transmitted to the lab in which Dr. Dressler and Dr. Davon are working. If there truly is a listening device, then it stands to reason this signal is the result of its presence.”

  “Where’s the signal going?” I asked.

  There was a short pause. “My scans show its trajectory is somewhere inside the planet.”

  “Inside?” I asked.

  “Correct,” he answered, simply.

  “Where? Do we know who’s down there?”

  “I’m afraid the signal goes beyond any of the explored sections,” said Sigmond.

  I didn’t like that sound of that. Not at all. “Are you telling me that the person responsible isn’t one of ours? Or the Union or the Sarkonians?”

  “Unknown, sir, but it seems that way.”

  “That only leaves a few possibilities,” I muttered.

  “The Celestials could be responsible,” said Sigmond. “However, there is another possibility.”

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “The planet could be self-regulating,” answered Sigmond.

  That was a strange thought. “If that’s true, we could have a problem on our hands. Celestials or an intelligent system operating all of this.”

  “There is no firm evidence to support either possibility, but both are equally troubling,” said Sigmond. “I believe the ongoing signal is being funneled directly to wherever the planet’s central processing unit is located. Possibly close to its core.”

  I took that in for a moment, trying to absorb what he was talking about and what it meant to us. The way I saw it, none of the listed possibilities were good. If Sigmond was right about this and the Union and the Sarkonians had nothing to do with the signal, then it meant we still had some Celestials to contend with, whether or not they were alive and present or the planet itself w
as still acting under their influence. I imagined a Cognitive like Sigmond or Athena walking the halls of this place late at night, moving between the different rooms, observing us. The thought sent a chill down my neck.

  “Keep monitoring the situation,” I said. “If something changes, please let me know right away.”

  “Of course, sir,” the Cognitive answered. “Sir, I would like to make a request.”

  “Really? What might that be?” Sigmond rarely asked anything of me, so I was instantly intrigued.

  “This may not be the best time, but I have been ruminating over some names for this new station,” he began. “Referring to it as ‘the planet’ has felt inadequate. My studies have shown that naming a place gives its residents a sense of unity, which may be fitting for the future of this partnership we are fostering with the Union and the Sarkonian Empire.”

  “Makes sense,” I said, tapping my belt with my thumb. “Did you have any ideas?”

  “Indeed, sir,” he continued. “What do you think of the name Tartarus? It is a term from Earth’s history.”

  “Tartarus,” I repeated slowly, trying it out and finding it fitting. “Sounds good to me.”

  * * *

  Not again, I thought the next morning, groaning inwardly and fighting not to yawn as I shifted in the uncomfortable chair. Vick, Rackham, and Emissary-Grennet were all present and accounted for, each intent on discussing whatever was important to them in the moment. I tried to stretch my legs without anyone noticing.

  The Sarkonian Emperor, Joden Proscerios IV, attended via holo. We had fashioned one of Tartarus’s many rooms into a conference hall where the figureheads could talk about all things boring.

  Gods, how I hated governing.

  It had been a week since we had descended upon the Celestials’ shiny tin can of a world. A week since we had beaten the bastards back only to find out that Athena’s data drives had been removed from Titan and taken gods-knew-where. I still felt the bitter disappointment of that keenly, but we had no intention of giving up our search for her. She wasn’t just a valuable asset to the cause. She was a part of my crew. Practically family. If I didn’t at least try to do something, I’d never forgive myself.

  Added to an already messy situation was the fact that Alphonse’s old boss, Admiral-General Patrick Shaw, had missed his pickup. With no word as to why, I’d assumed the worst. Naturally, Vick had assured me that he had nothing to do with the old man’s disappearance, but I still had my doubts. After the way Vick had ousted Shaw, it stood to reason that he might issue a kill order on him. Despite our own alliance and the shared unity of our cause, Shaw was still a member of the Union, and I had no authority over how Vick chose to treat him.

  Alphonse optimistically believed his old mentor to be alive, knowing the admiral better than any of us. As he told me, Shaw always had contingency plans in case anything went wrong, and he’d certainly gotten out of worse situations. Locating him would be something I’d have to look into soon. Add it to the ever-growing list.

  Which was exactly what I would rather be doing instead of listening to Vick drone on about the damage his fleet had sustained in the fight to take Tartarus.

  Sitting here didn’t allow me to get anything accomplished and I had briefly considered blowing it off and letting Sigmond or Abigail take my place.

  There were only a few things stopping me.

  First, I wanted to present a strong image of Earth’s people to the Union and Sarkonians. If it looked like the Renegade turned leader couldn’t even be bothered to join in meetings, one or the other government, likely both, might get ideas in their heads. Ideas like turning against us once we took care of the Celestials.

  That couldn’t happen. Although we were could certainly protect ourselves, I had no desire for a war with anyone, especially if it could be avoided. Besides, I’d rather spend our resources building our new home and creating a better world for everyone involved. We stood on the edge of a new age, one where the myth of Earth was no longer fiction, which meant anything was possible.

  Second, this job fell squarely on my shoulders. I knew Abigail was more than capable of delivering a status report, but she had other things on her plate such as overseeing repairs of the Galactic Dawn, which had sustained heavy damage to its shield and hull. Sigmond, for all his Cognitive abilities and diplomacy, was still viewed as artificial. Sending him might be seen as an insult to the other leaders. He also lacked the nuance necessary for a role where one had to deal with assholes and airheads.

  The last and most important reason for my attendance was the vice admiral. It was no secret that the man disliked me. The feeling was more than mutual. But he probably expected me to shirk my duties and avoid him, and I’d be damned if I gave him the satisfaction of avoiding me. It gave me no small amount of pleasure to deny him that.

  “Losing those carriers and the other ships was a heavy blow on all of us,” Vick continued as he droned on in his usual tone. “With the threat mostly neutralized here, the Union does not want to send another and leave our territories vulnerable. We cannot allow—”

  “What good is our alliance, then, Vice Admiral Vick?” asked the emissary to Sarkon, breaking through Vick’s rant. “You speak as though you are fighting two wars. Perhaps three.”

  The Emperor nodded on the holo display. “We agreed to this truce for a reason,” said the boy. “Or should I start rallying my soldiers to the border, too?”

  Rackham’s eyes widened slightly at the question, but he quickly relaxed himself.

  “That’s not what I was saying,” said Vick, his tone icy.

  The Emperor’s eyes were angled slightly off center, staring off camera. I assumed that his holo showed a view of all of us and his gaze was aimed at Vick—a product of dated holo-tech. The Sarkonians were capable, but not so much when it came to keeping up with certain advances. The lazy way in which the young man spoke reminded me that he was used to speaking over others, and he did so without apology, even to those who might be his equal. But he was no fool. My first encounter with him had taught me that. Sure, he might be ignorant to certain things, including other cultures, but he understood how to get what he wanted.

  Behind that young exterior lived a sharp mind, one not to be underestimated.

  “We are far from each other’s only enemies,” Vick pointed out. “And it wasn’t just ships. I lost good men and women in this fight. 329, to be exact. How about you, Hughes?”

  “Ninety-four,” I said, inclined to agree with the man for a change. Losing people took a toll on everyone. It also didn’t escape my notice that the vice admiral referred to them as his and not the Union’s. It showed they meant something to him, at least to some degree. Despite the animosity between us, a part of me had grown to respect him, as much as I hated it. “And a third of our drones and 37 fighters,” I added.

  Emperor-Proscerios didn’t so much as bat an eye at the number. “Earth and the Union are not alone in their despair. Grennet, what was the Sarkonian death toll?”

  The emissary visibly jumped, as though he had not expected to be spoken to or asked for any information and tapped furiously on his data pad. “Two hundred ninety-seven, your Imperial Majesty.”

  “There, you see?” the Emperor asked. “Almost the same amount as the Union. Such is war.”

  The coldness, sadly, didn’t surprise me in the least. While I knew most of my people, if not by name then almost certainly by face, he was far removed from any soldiers, except perhaps his own personal guards, the Sky Claws. As far as he was concerned, Sarkonian soldiers weren’t so much people as they were pieces on a board to be moved and sacrificed at his whim.

  Vick’s face flushed and I could see the hold on his temper starting to slip the leash. Deciding to give him a break and educate Proscerios at the same time, I leaned forward and addressed the boy-emperor. “Your Imperial Majesty,” I said, emulating the emissary’s way of speaking to the royal. “The threat has only been contained, not annihilated. We already know t
hat an undetermined number of Celestials escaped. What’s to stop them from coming back and wiping out the resistance here?”

  He seemed to seriously consider that. The boy might be young, but he certainly wasn’t stupid. “Very well, Lord Hughes.” His addition of the title to my surname always simultaneously made me flinch and smirk. “Give me a moment to confer privately with my council and emissary.”

  I nodded and the holo switched off. A few seats down, Emissary-Grennet began speaking into his comm in a hushed voice. Across the table, Vick seemed to relax, and Rackham smiled in his usual way. We sat and waited, not meeting each other’s eyes or making any conversation, each in their own thoughts.

  The holo blinked back on a long moment later. The Emperor faced us with a haughty and self-satisfied expression.

  “I have come to a decision,” Proscerios announced importantly. “I will send another of my artifact experts with a small relief battalion. Additionally, not only will the ceasefire remain active, Sarkon will assist the Union in defense of their territories from outside forces. In exchange, the Union will send another carrier from their fleet. If this is agreeable to your superiors, terms can be set,” he said to the vice admiral.

  Vick nodded. “I’m sending the proposal now.”

  “Well,” I said, starting to stand in anticipation that the meeting had come to an end. My knees creaked a little as I rose, and my back sent me a silent thank you. “I have no more ships to offer. More drones are being produced, but that’s going to take time.”

  That much was true. With Sigmond running his drone operation from this distance and working double duty to crack the planet’s system, production was taking longer than usual. We were all stretched a little thin with our multi-tasking.

  “Hold on, Lord Hughes,” said Grennet, holding up a hand.

  I should have known there would be a caveat. The Sarkonian emperor would never be satisfied with just the Union giving up something. He needed a sacrifice—so to speak—from me as well. I hoped it wasn’t going to be something too extravagant, exhausting, or exsanguinating.