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  Revenant

  THE SHADOW WAR CHRONICLES

  BOOK 1

  I

  Raymond Bayly

  Trouble Maker Media Group

  6 Liberty Square Suite 324 Boston, MA, 02109

  800.916.8502

  www.troublemakermedia.org

  www.raybayly.com

  For my Children -

  “While we try to teach our children all about life,

  our children

  teach us what life is all about.”

  - Angela Schwindt

  CHAPTER

  ONE

  ONE

  The Box

  Captain Vasimer sat in the chair of the dimly lit observation lounge, contemplating the large display screen, which showed an expanded view of the third planet in the system. He had found himself here more and more lately, staring at the real-time view of the small blue and green sphere, with wisps of white rotating lazily over its surface. Earth was a beautiful planet, with strange beings that he had marveled over for almost four decades he witnessed their development through the stages of technology and as they took their first unsteady steps into a new era of digital enlightenment.

  Watching that screen was much like watching his own children as they grew into adolescence. He felt a kinship with these creatures, these humans. They had an amazing capacity for art and technology; a people of inspiration and ambition where love was a quest and hope a shield. Yet, like his own people, some of them had a propensity for questionable morality, slavery, and war. As a result, parts of the world suffered from poverty and starvation. With parental-like hindsight, he recognized the signs of the electronic awakening.

  Earth and its inhabitants were in the early stages of a truly global awareness. One that would transcend their political and geographical borders, eventually bringing the world together, sparking a technological revolution that would allow them to reach for the furthest stars.

  Awaiting them was a new age of explorers and discoveries. In time, their theories and beliefs would evolve as the still unknown reality of the cosmos revealed its secrets. Faiths would be tested, and the eyes of a race would be open to all the fantastic things that the universe had created. First contact could breed fear and doubt from preconceived notions brought on by decades of speculation.

  Vasimer thought about the humans, they were about to recruit to their cause. He hoped indoctrinating them would help pave the way for an easier first contact later; maybe with a species bringing a simple message of peace, transforming doubt and apprehension into hope. But he knew all too well there was a darker side. This would also follow them out to the stars. If they weren’t careful, it could become the thing that defined them, as it had his own people. Seared into his mind and soul were images of pain, destruction, and death, as well as a parade of species brought to their knees or entirely eradicated by his command of the Empire’s most magnificent fleet. This was his sin, his legacy.

  He was known as The Conqueror, The Great Hero. He’d had numerous awards heaped on him for the tragedy and sorrow that he had caused during his time with the Armada. When he could no longer stomach what he had become, he resigned his commission and walked away. The hero turned pacifist; disappearing into obscurity. Vasimer shook his head.

  More and more his past had been returning to torment him. Every moment ticked closer to death, if there were gods or something after this life, he would have a lot to answer for.

  He checked the chronometer in the corner of the giant observation screen. Then with a flick to the computer embedded into the underside of his arm the screen blinked and displayed a human woman singing on a stage.

  He smiled as the Britain’s Got Talent logo scrolled across the bottom of the screen. Of all the things he loved about the humans, reality TV was at the top of his list.

  It wasn’t the proper procedure to use the tachyon probe as an entertainment system, but he wasn’t in the military anymore. With the nanite translators that all Empire citizens received at birth, it didn’t matter where on Earth the show was from, it would always sound like Preaton Standard to him.

  His entertainment was cut short as a feminine voice spoke from the audio relay in the ceiling.

  “Captain, may I intrude?” the voice tentatively asked.

  He sighed and switched the monitor back to planet view.

  “Of course, Shiasla. You are always a welcome intrusion, my dear.” He answered smiling, the lines of his aged face becoming more pronounced with the action.

  “I have mapped the results, and they are positive. It is recessive, but I have located a percentage of humans who possess the marker.”

  Vasimer closed his eyes, saying a small prayer to those same gods he reflected on earlier. They had sampled thousands of humans over the decades, always turning up nothing. He had been afraid that they had been wrong about the marker. The vertical slits of his irises tracked a small metal satellite as it passed along the screen in a geosynchronous orbit of Earth.

  “Shiasla,” said Vasimer as he continued to stare at the planet, “what is the rarity of the marker?”

  “One in Six hundred and fifty thousand.” She responded quickly.

  Hoisting his lanky frame off the couch, his old bones creaking and the joints in his seven-foot body sounding off with small bouts of pain. He slowly shuffled towards the wall reaching out to touch a small indent, causing a tray with a steaming mug of dark liquid to slide out from seemingly nowhere. He grabbed the cup and sipped as he considered her answer.

  “So, your creators seeded a control marker into the DNA of creatures it saw as potentials for the role of guardians millions of years ago. They could tell then that the evolution of this species would one day have the capacity to fill this role, yet they didn’t have the foresight to seed enough of the markers to make it a common trait? If they could have made a monumental calculation error when introducing the marker, then how do we know they didn’t make a mistake when they assessed the early evolution of humans?” Vasimer asked, pacing the floor as he tried to consider the ramifications of this new discovery.

  “We only have one shot at this, Shiasla. If we get it wrong…” shaking his head as his voice trailed off. “I know,” the Shiasla responded. Eliciting yet another sigh of irritation from Vasimer as he rubbed the slightly protruding ridges on his forehead.

  “I just want to make sure this whole effort wasn’t wasted. When you approached me all those years ago, I was drinking myself to death. You convinced me we could save these young planets from the Empire and their like. To finally make right all the wrongs I have perpetrated against races like this,” he pointed at the screen at the planet,

  “I jumped at the chance. I called in every favor to get assigned as the captain of this. I orchestrated the emergency that sent the crew off in life pods. Branded myself a traitor to my people and the other races that control the Empire. I did it willingly on your assurance that you knew of a planet that hosted beings that had been encouraged, through DNA manipulation, to accept and excel with the bio-electronic pairing. We raced across galaxies to these coordinates and had waited here for decades. I just need to make sure all our preparations were not for nothing.” Vasimer said feeling tired, even arguing with Shiasla wore him out, he lowered his body into a chair and looked expectantly at the speaker above.

  “Vasimer, my friend,” Shiasla said tenderly,

  “I took a chance on you and you on me. Together we have accomplished so much in preparation for this moment. I would not have done this had I not been sure they were the right ones. This will work. When it is done, we can start to bring justice to those worlds that have lost hope and protect those that have not.”

  before she could finish Vasimer broke in

  “Why can’t you reconsider Seafu’s initiates at
the Temple?” he asked, dredging up the old argument.

  “They are all chosen because they have the marker and have been trained in the lore of what your kind are and what you can do.” He asked his tone now weary from the effort.

  “I know you have some misgivings, but we need beings who will follow their heart and conscience over orders, those who aren’t afraid to stand up for what needs to be done. We need strong beings who will follow their principles and conscience in the absence of directives. In simple terms, we need warriors, not monks. Humans have an amazing capacity to inspire greatness in their own people. We have to believe that can translate over to other races.” Shiasla pointed out,

  Vasimer nodded and smirked.

  “You want royal pains in the ass then. Careful what you wish for, dear, you just might get it.”

  He stepped over to the console on the wall and brought up the ship’s status, though he seemed to look right through it.

  “Shiasla, I know you feel you have to guide these beings through manipulation but remember, they are a species that values free will. If you point them in the direction you want them to go and inspire them, I think they will surpass all your expectations and surprise even you. However, if you try to control their actions, they will push back, and you might lose your only shot at this.”

  Vasimer tried to concentrate on the status displayed in front of him, but his own statement had hit a nerve, how often were the soldiers of the empire coerced instead of inspired, it was one of the things he hated about his old job.

  Time and time again he commanded soldiers to invade against people who posed no threat, misleading them into the belief that it was them or us Maybe that’s what was really bothering him, Shiasla using tactics that he had so despised.

  “I know, my friend. I will keep your advice in mind. As always, you know I value your opinion.” Giving up on the display in front of him, he had tried viewed it multiple times and retained nothing, Vasimer shut down the console and stepped away from it.

  He left the common room and strolled down the narrow black metal hallway that ran down the center of the ship. It terminated at a large bulkhead door which hissed open as the sensor above the door anticipated his entry into the engineering compartment.

  This would be his last tour as captain, and he wanted to ensure the ship was left in good shape for the next crew. He began the ritual of walking through the systems checklist, a routine he had done every week since boarding. Knowing this would be the last time suffused him with sorrow. Running his hands over the engine housing, he said a small thank you to the ship that had been his home for the last 40 years. There was sadness as Shiasla’s voice interrupted his reverie.

  “It’s almost time, isn’t it? I am so sorry my friend. I wish there were something more I could have done.”

  Smiling he looked up at the speaker in the ceiling.

  “I am old. It was bound to happen, and we agreed once it did you would start the next phase. The ship needs to be reconfigured for your new crew. Besides, it’s probably better there wasn’t an alien on board when they got here...they might try to probe me to get answers to questions that neither of us wants to be answered yet,” he chuckled.

  Leaving the engineering compartment, he made his way towards the front of the ship.

  The dim hallway could have been brighter, but he liked the muted light. It always calmed him. Passing a doorway, he could make out the observation deck with its large window overlooking space, he continued down the hall and entered a door to the left of the bridge entrance. Vasimer could hear the whirring of computers cooling systems, as they ran to keep the room temperature lower than the rest of the ship. Vasimer approached a small red monolith that stood 3 meters tall in the center of the room. Running his hand over the front he found the slight depression and pressed it.

  With a soft click, a small hole opened, and a tiny blue translucent box, no bigger than the tip of his thumb slid out on a tray. He slowly caressed the object and began to talk to it in a low voice.

  “I wish I had been worthy of pairing with you, Shiasla. It would have been glorious to receive your knowledge and insight and to always have you with me as my guide to your world, but it was not to be so others will receive your gifts. At least I could play a part to ensure that the will of The Ancients came to pass, to be a force that would protect those that could not defend themselves. Maybe in this, I will redeem myself for my past actions. I know because of my inferior nanite treatments you were unable to lengthen my life with your advanced knowledge. Do not fret, my dear, for everyone has a time and it will soon be mine.”

  A tear escaped his reptilian eye as he whispered his lament, yet he smiled affectionately at the small box. The box began to pulse in time as the voice emitted from the speaker near the door.

  “My dear friend, I will miss you. Know that without you, my mission could not have been realized. You have been my closest friend and confidant, and I will never forget you.”

  Vasimer carefully slid the box back into the monolith, wiping away the wetness on his cheek, he made his way to the medical bay. He slowly, painfully got up on the silver colored table set in the center of the room. Once he was settled, a metallic arm with three fingers slid out from the wall. He held it at bay for a moment.

  “Shiasla, send out a message to Seafu and give him our coordinates. He will need to prepare the base once he receives the signal to protect the new crew and offer aid when he can. The other elders cannot know he is in contact. Prepare the humans quickly for they will be tested. If they fail, we all fail.”

  With his final request finished, Vasimer released the arm, and it began to go to work, injecting painkillers and other chemicals into the ailing captain, as the drugs began to take effect, he shifted to make himself more comfortable on the cold table, feeling a sense of euphoria as he made his final journey into oblivion.

  “Rest well, my friend. I hope we will meet in the next life” Shiasla said sadly. She felt sadness at the impending loss of her companion. Shiasla remained quiet as the captain lay unconscious on the medical bed, the computerized doctor monitoring his vitals. She had experienced loss many times while paired to beings over the last few centuries, but she could not remember ever having just a friend, someone whom she could talk to and experience a relationship as biologics do.

  He had given her the most precious gift she had ever received, True friendship.

  Some hours later, the captain stopped breathing, and the monitors began to sound alarms. Merged as she was with the ship instead of a being, she grieved the only way she could; systems all over the ship began to overload, screens began to flicker, and the ship went dark. In that darkness, she offered him a final gift by transferring every memory of her friend to her permanent archive, allowing her the ability to visit him anytime, thus granting the captain a kind of immortality.

  After a time, the lights came back on as the systems began to operate normally. Shiasla turned to the task at hand. The captain’s body was moved with reverence by the maintenance bots to the weapons room where is was loaded into a missile and set carefully in the launch tube. After a moment of silence, she said a prayer for her friend and launched the captain towards the sun.

  However unknown to her, deep in the bowels of the ship a small device came to life. It scanned the ship for the captain’s thermal image and found nothing, then accessing the telemetry data that the system had recorded. The device confirmed the captain’s death, it recorded the event efficiently and dispassionately as only a computer can do, the event activated a subroutine in the hidden device. The small rectangular shaped box sent a signal through the bypassed system, giving it direct access to the ships long range antenna, this bypass having been created just for this purpose , its distress signal shouted out into the vastness of space, searching for a recipient.

  Shiasla sensed the moment the burst transmission began. Within a few minutes of breaking the basic encryption, she knew what it was; a distress beacon. Searching the ship, she
could find no sign of its origin; it had to be isolated from the network. This had not been anticipated. She surmised that the death of the captain must have set off a built-in fail-safe in the ship she had not been aware of.

  She now realized she would have to move fast before the Empire could gain the location of the vessel.

  She would no longer be able to take her time and ensure that humanity itself was indeed ready. Now they would have to be. The fate of not only their planet but also the galaxy as a whole was in the balance.

  With speeds only a machine can achieve, Shiasla began to reconfigure the environmental systems, then loaded and launched the three preconfigured probes. Each one carried limited copies of her intelligence and would carry out the retrieval of her new crew. As promised, she launched a high-speed probe with the message to Seafu at the Temple, letting him know the final phase had begun.

  Shiasla knew it would be months until Seafu received the communication. They had chosen the backwater system because of the lack of com nodes, and that would probably save her and the ship as no one could track a distress beacon accurately this far from a relay. They had been preparing for this for decades, and now she would soon return to Empire space. Should they fail, it would mean the end of her existence.

  If the ship were captured, she would have to destroy herself to protect the others, in hopes they would one day be able to complete what she couldn’t. Shiasla hoped it would not come to that. Checking the ship and settings one more time, she hoped that her assessment of the humans wasn’t flawed.

  Too much depends on them, she thought as she began to power down and wait.