Eclipse: Book Two of the Dark Tide Trilogy, Page 2

  “You’re sure it’s a male?”

  “Yes, sir. He is endowed compared to normal-sized human males.”

  “Then there may be female commanders?”

  "Perhaps females are not commanders in their society, but there must be females in their society because this specimen has a belly button, which indicates an umbilical cord connection while in a womb.”

  “We don’t know enough about them,” Martin lamented.

  “Unrelated to their physiology, sir, their bladed staffs are interesting.” Dr. Witbeck led the Admiral out of the second examination room and into a large bare room with a table in the center. One of the Krai’kesh staffs lay upon it, while a blue gem floated to the side above a sensor pad.

  Dr. Witbeck picked up the staff. “The same inter-woven material as their carapace armor covers the staffs, while the blades possess an intricacy rivaling that of mage-forged steel. But what is interesting is this,” he pointed to the blue gem floating above a sensor pad. “The gem possesses properties we have never seen before.”

  “What sort of properties?”

  "Step back." They each took several paces back. "Watch!" He tapped on his datapad and a bolt of electricity shot into the gem from the far side of the room. The gem absorbed the electricity and on the opposite side of the lightning emitter, a dark swirling circular pool of darkness formed. "I give you the void shield. The gem translates electrical energy, likely produced by the warriors using nerve connections from the brain to convey the command to activate, into a void shield."

  “Reports I received told of their shields being used as portals. Have you discovered any such property?”

  Dr. Witbeck shook his head. “No, but we believe it is because we are missing a piece of the puzzle. We can replicate the electrical energy required to activate the gem, but we cannot replicate the exact command to expand or move a void shield. We are waiting for for…aha, there he is!" Dr. Witbeck moved to the door where a young man stood. "This is Ralph, he is a shifter. We have a hypothesis which Ralph will test."

  “What would you like me to do, sir?” the shifter asked.

  “Touch the gem in the center of the room and try to,” Dr. Witbeck waved his arms, “activate your shifting powers through the gem. We want to see if it will open a portal or if you can manipulate the result in a different way than we can with mere electrical impulses.”

  The shifter approached the gem, grasped it and removed it from the sensor pad's anti-gravity field. He turned to face Dr. Witbeck and Martin. His eyes took on the customary white glaze of a shifter or image, and the blue gem glowed. Avoid shield obscured both sights moments later. It emitted an electrical hum.

  “Excellent!” Dr. Witbeck shouted. “Now the moment of truth,” Dr. Witbeck said to Martin. “Try to expand it to shift with!” he shouted again.

  The void shield expanded, growing wider and wider. It grew to three times its size and shook violently. “Okay, you can stop now!” the doctor shouted.

  "I'm…trying…" said the young shifter with effort. "Can't…contain…" the void shield collapsed at that moment, and the gem fell to the ground in two pieces. Fortunately, the shifter appeared unharmed.

  “Damn it!” Dr. Witbeck cursed, clutching his hair in frustration. “We lost the gem.”

  Martin ran to the young shifter and offered him a hand. “Are you all right, son?”

  "Yes, sir. I have a massive headache, but otherwise, I'm okay."

  “Go straight to the med bay and get yourself checked out, do you understand?”

  The young shifter nodded. “Yes, sir, I will.” He exited the room.

  “So, the gem acts as a focus of natural shifting ability?” Martin asked.

  “Yes, but there must also be an element of skill involved. Or else the Krai'kesh humans are more powerful than our own shifters."

  “Perhaps they’re not shifters. Maybe they possess a different ability which allows them to manipulate the gems,” Martin suggested.

  “Well, we can’t test any further at this point until we get more staffs.”

  Martin smirked. “We have an entire battle zone out there littered with corpses. There’s bound to be more of these things.”

  “Yes, yes, you’re right, Admiral.”

  “I’ll make sure…” Martin paused as a transmission came in from the bridge. “Excuse me a moment.” He stepped away and answered the call. “Yes, Zigana, what is it?”

  “Sir, the reconnaissance team sent to the Serpentis system has returned. You need to see what they found.”

  Although Zigana spoke in an emotionless manner, as was common among tactical commanders due to the high level of neural augmentations, something made the hairs on the back of Martin’s neck stand up. “I’m on my way.” He looked back at the doctor. “I am needed on the bridge. Send me any more findings, especially the genetic analysis. I want to know just how close we are to these monsters.” He refused to call them humans…they were not human in his eyes…only monsters.

  Chapter 2 - Crossroad Station

  “Passport,” a gruff security officer demanded, hand outstretched.

  Kimberly Hague, or Kimberly Bourdvois on her passport, extended the requested document.

  The security officer scanned the passport using an antiquated security system. The light flashed green. He handed her back the passport and asked “What brings you to Crossroad Station?”

  Kimberly drew a deep breath and recited what she had been rehearsing. “I’m just here to see the sights, man,” she said, trying to play up the college student vibe. “Backpacking across the galaxy,” she patted the slung across her back, “enjoying life.”

  The security guard snorted. “Kids these days. How long will you be staying?”

  “I don’t know yet. When the mood strikes me.”

  “So, you will live here?”

  Oops, wrong answer? “Nooo, I mean for a few weeks, probably, maybe a couple of months. Then I'll move on. I'm a drifter, yo."

  “What’s your favorite planet you’ve visited?” he asked, glancing at his screen.

  A test, she thought. The FIA had fabricated her identity, including her passport travel records. They had provided those same records to her to memorize, but she had been busy and hadn’t had time to review them. “My home world, of course,” she said, glad the FIA usually fabricated an identity with the same home world as the agent's actual home world. "Galatia IV. I left a couple of years after the plague hit and haven't been back since."

  “Are you undead?” he asked.

  She held up her hands in protest. “Heck no!” What if I were, though? Would you deny me entry? She thought.

  He stared at her for a few moments more. Kimberly met his gaze and held it. At last he waved her on. “Go on, get out of here. Enjoy your backpacking through Crossroad Station.” He laughed in a creepy way as Kimberly passed his booth and entered Crossroad Station.

  Beyond the customs area lay Vendor Row, a more-or-less legitimate avenue lined with booths selling a huge variety of products from across the galaxy. Kimberly walked among the vendor booths, playing the part of a wide-eyed college student backpacking across the galaxy. As she shopped she kept an eye on her surroundings. She saw people of every culture, race and ethnicity there in Vendor Row: Pale blond Rovarkians, red-headed Rakoshi and dark-skinned Selucians just to name a few. A true melting pot. A Sagami shopper sported a traditional samurai sword in a sheath on his back. A peace strap which kept the sword from being removed without drawing questions from authorities when the wielder tried to leave bound it. Despite the peace strap, the large sword made Kimberly long for her thigh-holstered laser pistol.

  She bought a few small trinkets in line with her character, got her picture taken with a miniature version of the space station, which made it appear she was holding the entire station in her palm, and grabbed a bite to eat at a Rovarkian eatery. The atmosphere of Vendor Row reminded her of the festivals back on Galatia IV…before the plague…before her world changed forever. She s
till experienced nightmares of that horrific day when the world died and rose again as monsters…monsters her father had created.

  Kimberly looked around but noticed nothing out of the ordinary or anyone shadowing her, so she made her way, with discretion, toward the safe-house.

  From her brief review of the schematics of Crossroad Station, she recalled the FIA safe-house was located on the twentieth floor of the station, near the rear. She made her way to mag-train and boarded it. It whisked her toward the rear of the station. Crossroad Station was a large cylindrical station which spun to generate gravity. It featured a docking bay on one end, where Kimberly had entered.

  She reached her stop and took an elevator to the twentieth floor. A featureless corridor identical to the other featureless corridors she had encountered on her journey through the station met her. "Suite two three nine seven," she whispered, reciting the suite number. She reached the plain-looking door and rang the buzzer. No sound emitted. She knocked. A panel slid aside on the wall, and a camera popped out and focused on her.

  “Who is it?” a voice came moments later.

  She looked right at the camera. “My name is Kimberly Hague.”

  “Whaddya want?”

  Kimberly sighed. “I want to be let in. I’m an FIA…”

  “Shhhh…keep your damn voice down,” he scolded her through the camera’s speakers. “You want to be dead before you eat your first meal?”

  I already ate my first meal. She shook her head.

  “What’s the code phrase?”

  Kimberly rolled her eyes. The field teams chose their code phrases and in this case, it was ridiculous. “Knock knock.”

  “Who’s there?”

  “Figs.”

  “Figs who?”

  “Figs the doorbell, it’s broken!”

  The door slid open, revealing a short red-haired man with a long beard down to his chest. His crooked teeth flashed as he smiled. “Welcome ta paradise.”

  "Thanks…I guess," she said, stepping inside the room and letting the door close behind her. "You should fix your doorbell."

  The short man dismissed her comment with a wave. “Nah, it’s more fun this way, ain’t it, boys?”

  Three men sat at a wooden table playing a card game. One threw a piece of food toward the short man. “Shaddup, Higgins.”

  A taller, blond-haired, clean-shaven man came up behind the short, bearded man and slapped him on the back of the head. “Don’t mind Higgins, ma’am, he’s a few marbles short.”

  “Bah, you’re all just uptight pricks…sir.”

  The tall blond man extended his hand to Kimberly. “Agent Mew, Sloane Mew, at your service.” He gave her a roguish grin, complete with straight white teeth.

  Kimberly shook his hands and wished for the butterflies in her stomach to go away. “A pleasure.”

  “Let me introduce you to the team. You’ve met Higgins.” Agent Mew gestured to the short red-haired man.

  Agent Higgins extended his hand. “First name’s Corben, ma’am.”

  Kimberly shook his hand and nodded. “A pleasure.”

  “These pleasant card sharks over here,” Agent Mew said as he led her to the wooden table, “are Agents Maskini Rivera,” he pointed to a dark-skinned bald, clean-shaven man with green eyes, “Baillidh Baburger,” this man an olive-skinned man with short black hair and brown eyes, “and Torrance Ruetten,” the last man sported silver hair, purple eyes and pure white skin. “Say hello, gents.”

  A cacophony of “hiya, hello and it’s a pleasure,” sounded at the same time.

  Kimberly nodded, committing the names to memory with the help of her implant. “It’s a pleasure. I’ll let you get back to your game.” She turned back to Sloane. “Can we talk in private, Agent Mew?”

  “Of course, ma’am. Right this way,” he gestured to a back room. Inside Kimberly found a small desk, which Sloane took a seat behind. “So, what did you want to discuss?”

  Kimberly shut the door and sat across the desk from him. “I presume you know why I’m here?”

  Sloane shrugged. “Something about some cult, right? Honestly, ma’am, I saw the order come down and knew you were coming but paid little attention why.”

  Kimberly smiled. “You’re not the only one not doing their homework. But yes, I’m responsible for surveillance and interdiction against a cult known as the Cult of Rae.”

  “Can’t say as I’ve heard of them, ma’am,” he said, grabbing his datapad and swiping through it.

  "You won't find any mention in the FIA database, they're …lesser known cult. But they're in the spotlight after their attempted assassination of the Federation president."

  Sloane looked up. “The president was assassinated?”

  “I said attempted. No, the attack was repelled.”

  “Oh, that’s good.” Sloane returned his attention to his datapad.

  Kimberly cleared her throat. She found it odd he wasn’t taking the situation more seriously. “What can you tell me about the criminal elements on this station?”

  “Well, ma’am, it depends on what criminals you’re talking about. You’ve got your criminal gangs, they’re down in the lower levels below the trade zone. Security tends to leave them to their own devices to run their gambling rings and whorehouses and other businesses. Then there’s the merchants…a criminal enterprise of their own if you ask me.”

  Kimberly indulged him with a smile. Oh boy, not this argument again. Some people loved to blame corporations for the ills of the world and call them criminals. It was the same with financial institutions, she found. “Let’s focus on the ones who have broken the law or are in that area. Do you have any surveillance systems in place?”

  “We have a secure back door into the CCTV here on the station.”

  “Have you noticed any heightened activity recently?”

  Sloane pursed his lips and shook his head. “Not more than usual. The merchants have been bringing in more sealed cargo than before, though. Customs has been passing it through without inspection, which we thought was odd.”

  The merchants aren’t working with the Cult of Rae, are they?

  “Do you have access to the warehouses the merchants use? Could we get in and peek at the cargo?”

  “Sure, if we want to cause an international incident if we get caught.”

  “It’s a matter of federation security. We believe the cult we’re looking for has contacts on this station. We have to follow every lead we can, even if that means going to the merchant district.”

  Sloane held up his hands and made a placating motion. “All right, all right. We’ll help you track down the Cult of Rae’Shela.”

  “Thank you,” Kimberly said, then froze. She hadn’t told him the full name of the cult. Did that mean…? She held her tongue, not wanting to draw attention to what he said. “Let’s start by infiltrating the merchant sector and see what we can find.”

  “I’ll round up the boys,” Sloane said, rising from his desk.

  Kimberly rose and followed Sloane from the office. Could she trust Sloane? Was he working with the Cult of Rae? Should she report it to Isabelle or wait until she had more information? She decided to keep an eye on Sloane but follow the leads and not confront him yet.

  Chapter 3 - Distressing News

  Admiral Martin Rigsby watched the holo recording in horror. In the recording the moon of Serpentis III grew larger. Panicked voices sounded in the background. The voice of the governor of Serpentis III came through in the recording. "We are ordering evacuations, but do not expect to survive the impact. I am recording this so that if anyone comes after us, they will see what has happened. The Krai'kesh returned in force, with numbers eclipsing their previous attempt. They destroyed what meager defenses we had repaired or rebuilt but did not land their forces on the planet as they had before. Now we know why. They have manipulated the moon somehow - it now closes on the planet. Already the tides have caused massive flooding in coastal regions - entire cities were submerged in minu
tes. There is no way we can survive an impact of this magnitude - I only hope this recording can help the Federation stop the Krai’kesh from doing something like this to any other planet.” The recording faded. “My God,” Martin said.

  Martin looked at Zigana, whose face was blood-less. “Is that the only recording?”

  “There is another from a long-range satellite which captured the moment of impact with no audio, sir. But…it is disturbing.”

  Martin closed his eyes and slammed his fist on the arm of his chair. “Damn it! If only we had stayed behind. We could have…”

  “With respect, sir,” Zigana interrupted, “the video shows a much larger force of Krai’kesh, with over a dozen of their capital ships visible. The chances of our fleet surviving such a force alone would have been slim. In addition, the same fate could have befallen Eligar II if we had not come here.”

  “That doesn’t make it any easier, Zigana.”

  “Of course not, sir.”

  “Have we heard anything further from fleet command?”

  "No, sir. We are having intermittent issues with the shadow array. Pieces of signals are coming through, but we haven't been able to make sense of the messages. Our engineers are working to fix the array."

  “Good. We will need as many ships as possible if we’re to stop a Krai’kesh fleet of that size,” he pointed to where the holo had faded. “What’s the status of the retrofits on the fleet?”

  "The factories on the planet sustained heavy damage, sir. Our own manufactory is working above capacity to produce railguns, coilguns, and the associated munitions and control systems."

  “When will outfitting of the entire fleet be complete?”

  “It is impossible to say, sir. My guess is it will take a week before the entire fleet is retrofitted with physical projectile weapons in every weapon slot.”

  “A week may be too long. Can you patch me through to the Edgertons?”

  “I shall try, sir.”

  The holo display came to life again and moments later the face of John Edgerton hung in the air the projector. "Heya Cap, what's happening?"