Episode 37: The Face of One Captain
Invidia sat beside Zordar as Deun's trial commenced. Standing to her father's left was Sabera. The other woman's eyes kept flickering to Invidia and then back to Deun.
Deun stood below them, in the center of an amphitheater. Zordar's generals—those still aboard Gatlantis—as well as nobles, priests, and anyone willing to pay the exorbitant entry fee to watch the proceedings packed into the observer seating. Faces of all colors stared at Deun. Including a significant number of Gamilons. Most wore disdain or hatred, but some looked on with simple curiosity.
Trials aboard Gatlantis were rare. Rarer still ones involving foreigners. Justice aboard the worldship was most often exacted quietly and individually. But Deun's purported attempt on Zordar's life was too significant to avenge in secret.
Directly across the amphitheater, beside General Beale, sat Dyre. That this trial had been called at all was a testament to the old man's ability to falsify security footage. He'd erased most of the time in question, leaving only a few traces of evidence—all of which pointed to Deun and framed Invidia as the dutiful, concerned daughter who'd tried to prevent Zordar's assassination. The only witnesses, Zordar's personal guard, were dead, so covering a purely digital trail had been easy.
The designated official, a man four times Invidia's age, read Deun's charges and publicly showed the security footage to all present. The crowd murmured and jeered Deun.
One observer threw a mephite pellet. Deun dodged it. The capsule sailed past him and burst on the floor, releasing a stench that permeated the room.
Ventilation systems instantly sucked the offensive smell away, but not before Deun charged the man who'd thrown the pellet. Just before he reached the edge of the amphitheater's central circle, his energy cuffs pulsed, inflicting a wave of pain. Deun tensed and ground his teeth. He didn't leave the circle, but he gave his target a meaningful glare.
The trial was a performance. Zordar could pronounce whatever judgment he desired. For now, her father seemed to enjoy this little display. Either that, or it soothed his ego. After all, he'd been caught off-guard and supposedly rescued by his daughter and prime minister. A man like her father didn't take such humiliation lightly. As an exiled prince of Gamilon, Deun's demise wouldn't be of any political detriment. If anything, it might gain them favor.
"To attempt to take the life of Gatlantis' ruler, the chosen heir of our homeworld Zemuria is a serious crime," droned the officiant. "You will face your fate at the hands of Prince Zordar himself, and you will—"
"I'll what?" Deun sneered before he added a colorful racial slur, which sent the audience into an uproar. He faced Zordar, posture defiant. "I didn't raise my hand against you." His blazing eyes settled on Invidia. "She did."
Zordar bristled. "You claim my own blood betrayed me, yet you offer no proof."
"That's because she erased it," Deun maintained.
"You're just as stubborn as your brother," Zordar said. "At least he didn't try to kill me in my sleep."
"Don't think he didn't want to, Cometine," Deun shot back, voice booming over the din of the crowd. "But if you think she's loyal to you," he jutted his chin toward Invidia, "you're more naïve than I ever thought you were." He nodded to Sabera. "And that one is just as dangerous. You think she doesn't covet your throne every moment of every day? She wants your place too. They both want to kill you. Even I can see that!" The disgust in Deun's voice rose. "Believe them to your own demise!"
Zordar snapped his fingers.
Deun's cuffs shocked him so hard he crashed to the floor in a twitching heap.
"Throw him in a cell," Zordar said, eyes burning with rage. "I'll pronounce his sentence once the coming battle is over."
The presiding official signaled two men. The pair hauled an unconscious Deun away.
"He's a fool, Father," Invidia took Zordar's arm. "He sees treachery in everyone—all thanks to his brother, of course. Being dethroned has made him overly suspicious."
Sabera leaned close too. "A disgraced king will do anything to regain power." She glanced at Invidia. "Even try to wrest it from someone they ought not challenge."
Zordar leaned into his chair as the crowd made a spectacle of themselves while Deun was dragged out of the amphitheater. "Invidia, you disgraced yourself before my generals, and the Diviner herself. But you were not wrong in your trepidation. Her powers proved formidable. Had we not been at full strength, she would have destroyed us. For my misjudgment, I give you an opportunity to have a voice in the coming conflict. Sabera, you too were correct in believing the Diviner needed to be cowed and destroyed. She was too potent a force to be allowed to live. Now that she's gone, we must ensure this campaign does not fail. For any reason. I give you full control over my generals and their fleets."
Invidia's stomach curdled. Sabera needed a shorter leash, not more leeway. Giving Sabera free rein over military affairs was a fatal mistake.
"But," Zordar raised an excepting finger, "you will advise Invidia of your every decision. She needs guidance, and you two have far more in common than you'll admit."
Invidia wanted to strangle Sabera and gouge away her self-satisfied smirk.
Zordar continued. "I expect the two of you to keep me apprised. Your first joint war council meets in four hours." He pried Invidia's hand from his arm. "I suggest you make preparations."
Invidia kept several strides' distance between herself and Sabera. The Prime Minister eyed her with equal wariness as they both exited the amphitheater.
The afternoon sun hung overhead as Starsha rode beside Admiral Talan. Her gray mare and his bay gelding had been stable mates during their time at the palace, and the horses got along without trouble.
Sunset wouldn't come for hours, but already the air was cooling. Summer temperatures usually remained steady through the end of next month. An early autumn wasn't unheard of, but it never came this early.
A stiff breeze swept past, bringing an icy chill. It reminded Starsha of the numbing cold beneath the palace vault. Flashes of the Mazone's dead eyes accompanied the frigid gust.
Admiral Talan consulted the map on his comm.
"This way." Starsha urged her mare onto a narrow trail, weaving deeper into the trees. She'd frequented these woods over the past decade and knew most of the trails near the palace so well she could follow them even in the dark.
Thick stands of oak and maple swayed, dropping leaves, acorns, and seed pods. White blossoms fluttered down from flowering dogwoods. One bloom landed softly on Starsha's shoulder. She nudged the delicate flower into her hand. An instant later, a stiff breeze swept it away.
They rode hard for three hours, taking paths Starsha had traveled before. When they reached an unfamiliar patch of forest, she yielded her place to Admiral Talan, who had spent the last hours studying the rest of their route to Levavets.
He led them true, and they reached the base of the world tree as evening's orange and gold hues bathed the massive tree. If they found what they were looking for quickly, they'd be heading home in the dark.
Starsha wasn't eager to ride back without a significant light source. Their comms would provide enough light to keep the horses safe, but they would do little to ward off hungry forest-dwellers. She wished for the hundredth time since leaving the palace that she'd brought a sidearm. At least the admiral had his.
They dismounted at the base of the tree. A stream ran beneath several raised roots. The water's source was somewhere inside the tree.
"We can leave the horses in there." She pointed to a hollow nearly ten feet up the trunk.
The climb wasn't steep, but it was steady, and after hours of riding, the brief hike made Starsha's legs ache.
Inside the hollow was a carpet of grass and wildflowers. A trickle of freshwater ran through the space, entering through a tiny opening in the back of the hollow and exiting through an equally small space near the hollow's entrance. This was likely the source of the water outside. The stream widened until it was two full handbreadths across. It wasn't deep, but it ran without interruption and would supply the horses until they returned.
"I've never seen the like," Admiral Talan said as he removed his saddle and traded his horse's bridle for a halter.
"Levavets is filled with places like this." Starsha did as Talan had.
When they left the hollow, they set a perimeter restricter across the entrance. The low-level force field would keep the horses inside while still allowing fresh air to circulate. It was programmed to disengage in the event of environmental factors like fire and flood, or if Starsha and Talan were gone longer than a full week.
Not half an hour into their climb, Starsha had to rest. Talan didn't comment, but the sweat pouring down his neck and face said he needed a moment, too. She wondered how Derek and Nova had climbed this tree so quickly a year and a half ago.
Evening's first stars peeked into view overhead. Their winking light slipped through the thick canopy in dim pinpricks. Had the situation not been so dire, Starsha would have gladly stopped to watch as night deepened.
While they rested, she opened her comm and sifted through personal journal entries until she found the one she needed. "Two hours," she said. "The place we're looking for is a two-hour hike further up the tree."
Talan swiped his eyes clear of sweat. He'd long ago taken off his uniform jacket. The long-sleeved gray shirt he wore beneath it was already sweat stained around the collar and under his arms. A streak of damp ran down his back, too. The jacket was folded into a tight square and housed in a small, black case secured to his belt. "Hopefully, we'll find our answers there."
Starsha was still tired, but putting this off any longer would do them no good. She stood and headed up the tree, grasping protruding roots and thick vines to keep from slipping.
They passed countless hollows. All held fascinating plants, animals, even machines, now old and wasted away. Glass, crystal, vines, and flowers covered each machine. There was so much history here. If only she'd had time to stop and catalog it all. When this crisis was over, the refugees were settled, and Sasha was old enough to come with her, she'd make a proper research trip.
Talan took the lead an hour into the hike. He pulled Starsha up several severe inclines before they reached their goal, an opening much wider than any of the ones they'd passed before.
Starsha stood in front of the rounded entrance, comm out to provide light in the gathering darkness. Since the archives had failed them, this was their best hope of finding information about Astragon—and perhaps more about the Living.
An all-encompassing silence filled the hollow. In the dark, it was difficult to discern the shape and layout of the space.
She checked the wall for insects before touching it. Her comm illuminated only woven roots, so she used the wall to steady herself as she traced the edge of the room. An alcove opened to her left, and starlight poured in through it. As she neared the alcove, the spindly branches of a wild rose bush caught her clothes. She pulled away. Entering the alcove wouldn't be possible right now. Not with all those thorns to wade through.
White blooms sprouted from the rosebush. Even in starlight, they were lovely, and a silent breeze carried their sweet scent. Derek and Nova had described wild white roses growing in an alcove.
Her boots padded across the cavern's grassy floor until she was past the rose-filled alcove. She traced the wall farther inside until her comm illuminated a skeleton. Just as Derek and Nova had said, the ancient bones leaned against the wall, and its clothes hung in tatters from its waist and shoulders.
Admiral Talan circled the cavern from the opposite side, studying plants and wall crevices with the help of assistive lighting from his comm. Finally, he left the perimeter and ventured toward the center of the hollow, where a tree with magnificent blue flowers stood.
Partway to his goal, he splashed into algae-covered water and quickly backpedaled.
Starsha joined him beside the hidden pool. "This is the place we were looking for."
"Not much here," he said. "But other hollows branch out from this one. Some go back down the tree, but two ascend into the canopy." He pointed to the back of the hollow. "I would suggest we stay together, but since we've no time to waste, perhaps it's better if we each take a path."
Just the thought of climbing into a dark tunnel alone made her heart pound. She'd asked Admiral Talan to come along, precisely because this trek was too dangerous for one person. But her comm said it was getting late, and if they had a hope of making it back by dawn, they'd need to split up.
She nodded acceptance.
"Contact me in an hour—or as soon as you've found something. I'll do the same."
The Admiral lit the way to two openings at the back of the cavern.
Starsha took a deep breath and stepped into the one on the left. She tapped her comm, and a thick cord sprouted from its edge. She set the assistive lighting to maximum and hung the device around her neck.
Yahweh, she prayed as she forged ahead into the darkness, please… bring us home with answers.
Derek gripped his chair as Argo slipped into the Aquarius Gate. He kept a watchful eye on radar in case Gamilon or Cometine ships followed them.
But none did.
What puzzled Derek most about the fight they'd just escaped was why their enemies had turned on each other. The Cometines had blasted through Desslok's fleet unprovoked, and Desslok hadn't hesitated to retaliate.
Deep blue and purple clouds swirled around Argo, creating eerie shapes. If he hadn't had the radar to consult, he'd have sworn something lurked outside in the nether. But even the Iscandarian module said Argo was the only ship in the vicinity.
The first time he'd entered a Gate, he'd fervently wished to leave. He still remembered the horrific thing that had tormented him inside that dark tunnel. It—probably a dark spirit of some variety—had grabbed him by the helmet. The thing's gnarled, decaying hands had reeked, and the moment those fingers touched him, it was like fire racing through his eyes and into his throat.
He rubbed his forehead to banish the sensation of dry hands scraping across flesh.
Would he face that horror again today?
Not for the first time since entering the Gate, Derek glanced at Radar. But Nova wasn't there. He checked his comm. She still hadn't replied to the message he sent just before the battle. She was probably asleep. Which was good. She needed it.
But what he wouldn't give to have her here right now.
Dash started and cursed at an invisible pest as it circled him.
Yamazaki wore his tension in taut shoulders and a crinkled brow. He kept his attention on his station, but sweat already trickled down the side of his face.
Homer shifted uncomfortably at Comms, but his unease seemed to arise from others' agitation.
At Stellar Cartography, Eager took long, deep breaths, sometimes muttering to himself.
The last Gate crossing everyone—except Alori, Knox's Marines, and a handful of pilots from Luna II—had endured was Gehenna's Bridge, and though it hadn't included otherworldly encounters, it had taken a high toll, leeching life from all of them in unique ways.
Silence weighed down the bridge.
Half the bridge crew would need a shift break earlier than planned if this crossing went poorly. They might have to call on less experienced crew if the worst happened. Thankfully, Sandor had compiled a list in case of emergency.
There was no turning back now. With the enemy behind them and the long dark ahead, they couldn't give in to fear. He couldn't give in to it. He was the captain—responsible for this crew. And they needed to get to Saturn at best speed. If Gideon was as desperate as he sounded, the situation was dire. Derek hoped Argo could make a difference in the fight the EDF was already embroiled in.
"W-Wildstar…" Eager stared at the astro-compass, sitting dormant in the middle of the bridge. "The starflies are back." His eyes were round with horror as he covered the back of his neck.
Dash smacked his console with an open hand. "They're everywhere!" He swatted the air, his arms, chest, face.
Yamazaki kept composure but clandestinely slipped a gloved hand toward the base of his skull.
Saijo stared hard at the radar, gripping the edges of the console as if it could protect her.
"Nothing's there." Homer stood and took a step toward Dash.
"Stay at your post," Derek said.
Homer sat.
"The starflies are gone. We made sure of that over three weeks ago," Rowland said from the science station.
"Well, you missed some," Dash snapped as he swiped phantom starflies from his sleeves and pantlegs. "Why is no one doing anything?" He lurched out of his chair.
"I said 'Stay at your post.'" Derek kept his tone firm. "There are no starflies. It's the Gate."
"This is all your fault." Dash pointed straight at Derek. "You brought us out here, dragged us from home one more time just to throw us in the middle of fight after fight we could have avoided." He swiped one sleeve, then his face and neck. "You're the reason for the crew we've lost so far, and you're the reason for all the ones we're going to lose in a few hours when we jump into another fight we have no business being in. If you'd just minded your own business and let the EDF do what they needed to, this ship would be on-par with Andromeda by now. Someone would have picked up a trajectory change for that comet, and we'd have known we were in trouble without you provoking all of us to mutiny and leave Earth five weeks ago. Five horrific weeks ago, Wildstar!"
Dash's words hit hard. Somehow, he'd just pinpointed every fear Derek had about this entire mission. Every question he'd asked since they'd left—every doubt that haunted him when he was supposed to be sleeping.
But Dash wasn't finished. "You can't leave anything as it is." He waved away more invisible starflies before pointing to Radar. "Couldn't use standard-issue technology. Had to get alien upgrades." He nodded toward Yamazaki's station. "Same with the engine." He arched a thumb over his shoulder. "Comms' sorting algorithm is different now too—since that message from Trelaina got dumped in the reject pile. And I'm sure Sandor's done upgrades to sensors and about everything else on board. And all on your order."
It was true. Derek had been party to many of the changes aboard Argo. Captain Avatar had put him in charge of some, but others he'd overseen himself. Sandor was the driving force behind all the recent changes—though Derek had been glad for everything Sandor had done. And he was sure there were things this ship could do that he still did not know.
What Dash had said about dragging them all out here… Maybe it was true. Maybe he shouldn't have commandeered the ship or stood up to Gideon when he wanted them to return to Earth. Maybe he should have stayed out of the conflict at Brumis or the investigation of Olympia. Maybe following the voice of a stranger to an unknown planet wasn't the best idea.
But all those choices had led to things—to people—none of them otherwise would have known. Every person aboard this ship—himself included—was different because of these past five weeks.
"Will you never just stop meddling and do what you're—"
"Lieutenant Jordan Dashell," Derek's voice filled the bridge. Even Alori, who had kept on-task, turned to stare.
Silence.
"Get back to your post, or you will be removed from the bridge."
The wildness left Dash's expression, replaced by regret. He stood completely still. Not even his eyes darted to chase phantoms. "Wildstar, I—"
"To your post."
Dash obeyed.
He didn't mention starflies again. Neither did anyone else on the bridge.
Notices piled into Derek's comm. Dozens of reported sightings of starflies throughout the ship. Some crewmembers even said they'd been bitten. Others said hull breaches were letting in hundreds of thousands of the things. Only messages from Sandor, Orion, and key others said there were no starflies on board and that their fellow crew members were hallucinating.
"They'll kill us this time!" A panicked voice came over the ship-wide comm. "Abandon ship! Abandon ship! We're overrun—" The announcement ended in a strangled scream. Someone had bypassed the comm restrictions.
Derek immediately shut down all ship-wide comm access points except the one at the captain's bridge station. Before he knew what to say, he switched the microphone on. "This is your captain speaking. I know you're afraid. Our encounter with the starflies was awful. It put several of you into temporary comas. They bit me too, and while I was under the starflies' control, I re-lived things I never thought I'd have to. But you don't have to be afraid. The starflies aren't here."
A chill crept up Derek's neck, and the stink of death crowded close. He knew that reek. Just like his first journey through the Gates, something foul was in here with them. These mass hallucinations, Dash's outburst, the widespread fear—it wasn't coincidence. Something was trying to keep them from making it through this Gate. Or, if they arrived in time, it wanted them in such straits they couldn't function.
Be strong.
The words came silently. Like they had before Argo slipped through the Gamilon line.
Be strong.
Every light on the bridge went out.
Episode 37 Notes:
The title for this chapter is taken from Isaiah 36:9
How then wilt thou turn away the face of one captain of the least of my master's servants, and put thy trust on Egypt for chariots and for horsemen?