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A day after the incident at the asteroid base and the account of the attack was nowhere to be found. I’d clicked through every holo-news station and no one was talking about it. Instead, most of the “top stories” were about a delegation of important Federation officials traveling around lobbying for support for one thing or another, a video of a cat dancing to a specific song and rumors of a trillionaire and his wife divorcing and splitting their estate.
The ship I sat on, the Gamut, wasn’t the same as the Daedalus. It was structurally the same, but it lacked my team. Julianna. There were more undead here, with most of the crew being like me, which was a change from the Daedalus. Many of those lost on the asteroid base were living, and those who hadn’t gone on the mission had transferred out.
Captain Wilson walked in as the news anchors began talking about the “important” Federation officials. I half-wondered if my father would be among them. “Display, off,” he ordered and the holo blinked out of existence.
I met his stern gaze and swallowed a snappy comeback. “Sir?”
“It’s time.”
“Already?” It had been a day since I’d been rescued. My belly was full and I’d slept for twelve hours straight, but this soon?
“Strike while the iron is hot,” he said. “Our targets are going to be on the opportune planet in a week. The plan’s already in motion.”
“Can you tell me what the plan is?”
“Come with me, and I will.”
I nodded, stood up and followed the man. He led me to Colonel Schattler’s quarters and, not waiting for an answer to his knock, opened the door and entered. “Sir, she’s here.”
The colonel looked up and smiled, the first time I think I’d seen him offer a genuine smile. “Private, thank you for coming.”
Not that I’d had a choice. “Of course, sir.” I stood there, waiting.
“Please, sit down.” He gestured to a pair of chairs.
I took the one on the left, while Captain Wilson sat in the other.
“Tea?” the colonel asked, lifting an antique porcelain teapot and pointing to a pair of antique matching tea cups.
“No, thank you, sir. I’m still recovering from yesterday.”
“Of course.” He cleared his throat. “What has Captain Wilson told you so far?”
“Very little,” I said carefully. I didn’t want to share that Julianna had given me information before our mission.
“Well, the captain and I are part of a coalition of undead across the Federation who are dissatisfied with the new status quo imposed upon us by society and the inaction on the part of the Federation government to protect our kind.”
The Dread Legion, I thought. “What’s the name of this coalition?”
“We call ourselves the Dread Legion, because of how society dreads our existence and because we are everywhere, now.”
“And what is it your group wants?” I asked, cautiously.
“We want society to finally realize our power,” he said. “We are the next evolution of humankind and we deserve to have a place of honor within the Federation.” His face took on a feral expression. “And if they won’t honor us, we’ll teach them to fear us.”
I found myself nodding. Twice I’d found myself attacked by the living, with the first almost resulting in my death. Change and acceptance wouldn’t come through peace.
“Do you want in?” he asked.
The memory of Julianna being vaporized before my eyes rose up. “Tell me one thing, sir. Why did they attack the asteroid with us still in there?”
The colonel didn’t break eye contact. “They knew you were there. But the ‘why’ died with the commander of that cruiser you destroyed. My guess is secret orders to ensure you didn’t survive.”
“Me? Why me?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Word’s gotten around about the Ranger who can control gravity. You’re one of a kind. So, my guess is when word got around that you were going to be on that mission someone saw an opportunity to get rid of you.”
“You think a Cultist within the navy?”
He shrugged. “Could be. Or just the Federation wanting to destroy aberrations.”
“I’m in,” I said with determination.
His smile returned, wider than before. “Excellent. Welcome to the Dread Legion.”
***
AS IT TURNED OUT, THE Dread Legion had agents throughout the Federation. They were mostly undead with some living sympathizers, or in some cases supplicants, allied with them. They held positions in all walks of life, from lowly privates to colonels and higher in the military and from custodians to CEOs in the corporate world. And they were all pissed at the Federation’s handling of the undead crisis.
And so there I was, a day after speaking with the colonel, sitting in a briefing room aboard the Gamut as we plotted treason. Well, we didn’t call it treason - we called it avenging the dead. Perhaps it made us feel better about what we had to do.
“A delegation of high-ranking officials, both from the military and political ranks, will be speaking on the supposed threat of the Krai’kesh. They’re hoping to garner support for one military project or another. The reason they’re there doesn’t matter. What matters is, the whole Federation will take notice when we kill them.”
Six months ago, hell, six days ago, I would have gasped at those words. But now? Numbness washed over me, dulling my feelings. No one took notice when Orin was killed by an angry mob. No one batted an eye when Julianna and my entire team was murdered in cold blood by the Federation. Why should I care if a few overpaid blow-hards died?
“Here’s the plan...” he began.