Wake’s hands trembled as he thought about his future. Someone in the Ashamine had set him up, and now they were about to execute him. He felt his mind falling into a black hole, accelerating, spinning, and tumbling through a multitude of subjects. What is this Brotherhood of Azak-so?
he wondered. Were they trying to help or hurt me? What do I do now? What can I do now?
After his trial, the military police escorted him to the ASN Antadroga, a Rubicon class ship. Although he knew his life was about to end, Wake could not help but be amazed by its vastness. His previous space travel experiences had consisted of small transport vessels. And that newly completed ship everyone is talking about, the
ASN Founder's Hammer, is supposed to dwarf the Antadroga.
Wake shook his head. He could hardly believe it.
The hatch to his cabin opened and Wake looked up as a large marine stepped in. “Come with me,” the stone faced man commanded, motioning Wake towards the door. He followed the guard, taking calm, measured steps. Keeping himself under rigid control was his only hope of staying calm. They entered a lift and it shot up several levels to the main deck.
Exiting into a large, open area, Wake immediately noticed the crimson colored environmental nominizing suit displayed in
the middle of the command deck. It was the universal symbol of the damned. Everyone who knew anything about the Ashamine had heard of this suit. Wake couldn't take his eyes off it. It possessed a captivating beauty, making his eyes follow its angular segments and graceful curves. He had never seen a suit like it.
“I see you've noticed your ENS,” a deep, gruff voice said. Wake pulled his eyes from the execution apparatus and turned to face Separate Yaladon, commander of the Antadroga. He was a short, stout man with close-cropped gray hair. He faced Wake squarely, looking up at him with a stern expression. “I won't make this any harder than is necessary. I'm here to do the will of the Ashamine, not torture you. Within the constraints of my orders, I will try to make this as quick and painless as possible.” He turned to face his subordinate officers, standing at attention across the command deck. “The ceremony shall now begin. Wake Darmekus, formerly of the Engineering and Building Division, censured by the Lower-Elders of the Ashamine for the malefactions of delinquency of duties, disregard for safety, and the murder of twelve colonists on the planet Traynos-6, please don the Clothing of the Iconoclast.”
Wake remained silent, nodding his thanks to the Separate for his consideration. It was the closest thing to kindness he had received during this whole ordeal. He walked over to the suit, heart pounding so hard it made his chest hurt.
As he approached, he continued to marvel at the ENS's beauty. Silver scroll work, intricately detailed, drew the eye and contrasted beautifully with the deep crimson color. The suit appeared ancient, yet its uniqueness made it look almost futuristic.
After a brief study, Wake began donning the Clothing. Soon, all that remained was the helmet. The suit felt elegant, and Wake wished he could see himself in it. He turned to face
Separate Yaladon. Once he’d made eye contact, he pulled the helmet over his head and sealed it.
“Wake Darmekus,” the Separate's voice said over the suit's comm, “the Clothing of the Iconoclast has been used to execute all those who’ve turned traitor to the Ashamine or committed crimes of great magnitude against its people. You will be sent through the airlock of this ship and set adrift in the void. Contemplate your crimes, but do so quickly, because your oxygen will only last so long. Once your life expires, we will dispatch your body to roam the galaxy as a witness of your crimes.” After a brief pause, the Separate pointed towards a large, circular door. “Enter the airlock.”
Wake looked down at his ENS clad feet, motionless, immobile. He couldn't force himself to move. Panic flooded his mind, and he knew at any moment he would lose control and try to escape. A sudden jab in the back propelled him forward. Wake barely managed to keep himself from falling. He looked back in time to see one of the guards resume his rigid stance.
“Enlightened Alexhion, stand down!” Yaladon's voice was hard as tungsten. Alexhion made no further movement, but also showed no remorse. Yaladon was obviously on the verge of taking further action. Instead, he escorted Wake to the airlock’s threshold. Wake continued into the chamber alone. The airlock's bright lights caused the ENS's crimson finish to glow, the silver scroll work shining brightly. Wake wondered absent-mindedly how many people had worn this suit and taken the one-way trip through an airlock.
“Turn,” Yaladon's gruff voice intoned. Wake did so, stopping midway into the airlock's deep expanse. “Watch Captain, seal the inner doors.” Even as spoke, the heavy panels began moving silently, sliding in from each corner with a circular motion.
A clanging sound resounded through Wake as the corners met. The finality made him shudder. He took a deep breath,
trying to calm his nerves. Some people claimed images of your life swam before your eyes as you died, but all Wake saw was the gray finish of the surrounding walls. Maybe I'm not dead enough yet,
he thought, the morbid humor making him smile.
The little levity he’d built up vanished as the outer doors opened. They hadn’t equalized the airlock so the blast of escaping atmosphere would force him out. No chance they were gonna let me hide in there while I
die. They want to see it. They’re probably recording everything.
He found the thought revolting, not because it was his own death, but because it would probably be streamed across the network. Recording it for evidence was one thing, but letting people watch for pleasure was quite another.
The hemorrhaging air violently propelled his body into the void. He was weightless, with a slight spinning rotation. This wasn't his first experience with zero-g, but every time caused him to marvel at how he could think of any direction as “up”. Wake looked around, seeing the beauty of this remote sector of Ashamine space. Stars were everywhere, bright points of light in the vast blackness. The Antadroga was backlit by a giant nebula, making the human ship look tiny.
As the vessel grew smaller and smaller, the majesty of the nebula increased. A few minutes passed, then Wake felt gravity tug on his side facing the Antadroga, stopping his spin. The ship is
focusing its gravity-mass beam on me.
It was a strange sensation, having a gravitic pull only on his chest. That area became “down,” but he had a hard time shifting perspective since it only effected his core.
When Wake was within some predetermined distance, they stopped manipulating him. Now the waiting began. He knew it was important to breathe slowly to maximize his remaining time.
Earlier, he had been frightened into paralysis, but now he grew progressively calmer. This was contrary to logic, but felt right. Perhaps I’m
learning to
control my
emotions better.
Thoughts of his parents floated through his mind. It still pained Wake that they couldn't accept his decision to join the EBD, that they no longer talked to him or even acknowledged his existence. I can’t change any of that now.
The more he thought of his parents, the more he despaired, regretting how things were going to end with them. Upon hearing the news, they would think him a traitor. His parents would trust the Ashamine. No doubt would linger in their minds.
Anger sparked within him for their absolute belief. If Wake's experience was any indicator, the government was corrupt and manipulative. He wished he could have seen this sooner, had been able to fight it. Who am I kidding,
he thought, I couldn't even win my own trial.
Wake had been so devoted to the Ashamine. Seeing his efforts wasted on such an unworthy cause made him sick. In the next instant, he decided he would be better off leaving this world and its greedy, deceitful inhabitants. Death would bring nothingness, a true void the deep shadow he floated in now could only poorly imitate. Wake welcomed the darkness, the eternal nonexistence comforting him. The longer he floated, both in his agony and in the void, the more he realized that maybe the Ashamine were doing him a favor.
Wake had no illusions of a blissful afterlife. Those peaceful, happy images were a luxury only those such as the Dygars and other cults had the benefit of. Even the Ashamine used the promise an afterlife to promote the state religion.
Between that thought and the next, Wake’s atmosphere ran out. It was there one moment and gone the next. There was nothing to breath in, nothing at all. Wake’s chest struggled to draw in oxygen, but the result was a jerking spasm that made panic flood his body. He fought to remain calm, to keep his mind focused, but he knew it made no difference.
As his body struggled to breathe, Wake’s mind calculated how much longer he had to live. Two minutes, max,
he decided. What to do, what to do, what to do?
He found no viable answer. Now that he’d begun dying, it was unacceptable and his body clung desperately to its spark.
Black spots formed across his vision, like little splotches of oil floating on water. As time passed, the blots converged, forming a large mass. “Hold on Wake,” sounded somewhere in his head. “We're trying to get you, but this Ashamine ship is making it blightheartedly difficult.” The noise was a buzzing in his ear. He couldn’t understand it.
The urge to take off his helmet grew in Wake's mind. He knew it was crazy. The void is worse than what I’m already experiencing!
As precious seconds ticked away, the idea grew more and more compulsive, however. His hands rose towards the release controls around the neck of the suit, but he forced them down.
Wake vaguely noticed the Ashamine ship rapidly accelerating away from him. The buzzing continued in his ears, but was growing faint. He once again raised his hands towards the helmet controls. There has to be air outside!
It was that simple. He had been stupid to wait so long, had almost killed himself being stubborn. In just a moment, the refreshing air would fill his lungs, purging the consuming burn.
But Wake couldn't seem to work the fittings. He cursed, dimly wondering why his fingers were so sluggish and far away. Finally, after several long moments, he found the controls and began operating them.
As the helmet flew off, Wake was blinded by bright lights, his body experiencing a tremendous acceleration. The punishing g-force lasted a few seconds and vanished. Whaaa,
Wake thought dazedly, unable to understand what had happened. Once his eyes adjusted, he realized he was laying on the floor of a cargo hold. Magnetic deceleration,
he thought,
explaining the earlier g-force. His whole body felt bruised and breathing caused a stab of pain in his rib cage.
The joy of the atmosphere filling his lungs eased his discomfort. Wake welcomed the stale air of the cargo hold, drawing it deeply. It tasted so sweet. After a minute, he managed to rise to his hands and knees.
A man strode into the cargo bay as Wake got unsteadily to his feet. Both men stared at each other for a moment. The newcomer broke the silence, voice echoing hollowly off the metal walls. “Sir Darmekus, we are happy we got to you in time. Good thing we surprised that blighthearted Ashamine ship.” The man spoke rapidly, but Wake understood. “We are still not safe and I'm quite sure they will bring their big guns down on us as soon as we are within range. Captain Malesis is an amazing commander and pilot, but I fear this situation will push him past his limits.” The man smiled and motioned Wake to follow. “We'll do our best, as that is all we ever can do. Come with me. We must move fast and get strapped in before the shooting starts.”
Once he was sure Wake was following, the man strode out the way he had come. Their journey was short and ended in a small flight deck containing four other humans. The man escorting Wake sat in one of the back seats and motioned Wake towards the single remaining spot. “Strap in tight, things could get bumpy.” A look of frustration crossed his face, and he smacked himself in the forehead. “I always forget to introduce myself. Momma says it's a character flaw. The name is Ralen Call, member of the Brotherhood of Azak-so.”
“Wake Darmekus, although you already know that,” Wake replied, a tentative smile crossing his face. “Is there anything I can do to help? I have some computer and machinery skills.”
“Captain Malesis here, Brotherhood of Azak-so,” a man in one of the front seats said. “I don't know if there is much you can do. We are trying some tactical maneuvers to stay in close
to the Ashamine ship and inside their weapons range. That ship is too small to carry fighters, thank Azak-so, so we don't have that to worry about. We are in a precarious situation here. Too close, they ram us. Too far, and they send tungsten ripping through our hull. The only thing keeping us alive so far is smooth flying—not meaning to brag, just stating the situation. Do you have any ideas?” Wake looked thoughtful as he removed the crimson gauntlets covering his hands.
“I may have something,” Wake said after a brief pause. “Let me check your systems and then I'll know more.” No one else spoke. They were all engrossed in their displays.
After a few moments scrolling through specs and readouts, Wake felt he had a viable plan. “OK, here is what I'm thinking: Your ship is obviously more maneuverable than the larger vessel, but far out gunned. We need to use our maneuverability to get into a position where we can strike at a vital system. I know you’re thinking all those systems are well armored, and in that you are correct. But I was just on that ship, and I had a pretty good look around. I was paying special attention since it was my first time on a vessel that size, and I didn’t really have anything else to do. One flaw in their impeccable design is the view port on the main deck. Someone told me during battle they lower an armor plate to keep it from being compromised. In order to watch my death, they had it wide open. I'm guessing since we are such a small ship they won't have bothered to lower it since. If you can—”
“If I can get a couple of rounds through that window,” Captain Malesis interjected, “they will experience explosive decompression.”
“Exactly,” Wake replied, smiling. His emotions had risen to a level they had not been to since his trial. His face turned somber as he thought through the situation further. “We will be killing everyone on the command deck, but I guess it's us or them at this point.”
Ralen gave Wake a strange look as he said, “Considering what they were about to do to you, I'm surprised you aren't excited for it. We can fill you in on the terrible things the Ashamine has done to the human and Entho-la-ah-mine races if you feel guilty. Trust me, if your plan works, you are doing a service to the gods and the Universe.”
Ralen does
have a point,
he thought, remembering how close he’d come to death. The fact it was unjust and unfair mitigated some of his anticipated guilt.
“Ralen,” Captain Malesis said, “I'm going to bring the ship in on a vector that will allow us a clear shot on the main deck window. If you miss, we won't get a second try. They'll bring the armor down. Game over. I'm not trying to stress you, but you need to know the stakes.”
“Sure, sure,” Ralen said, speaking in his characteristically quick manner and not bothered in the least. He continued in a low mumble Wake couldn't understand. After making adjustments on his screen, he looked back towards Captain Malesis and nodded to indicate readiness.
Captain Malesis took the ship in low over the top of the Ashamine vessel, moving fast and skimming the hull. After a few seconds they were to the front of the ship, and he pulled up sharply into a tight loop.
Ralen began mumbling, and all Wake could make out was, “Great, great, great,” said in a tone that sounded less than enthusiastic. Ralen's mumbling ceased as the Brotherhood ship reached its apogee from the Ashamine vessel. Wake monitored his console, still trying to think of anything to help.
As they dove towards their target, the interior of the deck flared brightly as a rail projectile passed within meters of the Brotherhood ship. “Damn them to the fires of the dark star!” Captain Malesis yelled.
Just as Wake was feeling it was time to fire, Ralen did so. The ship bucked as four tungsten projectiles left their barrels.
Ion tracer trails streaked towards the Ashamine ship. It briefly appeared the volley was a complete miss, that the rounds would pass in front of the enemy ship. Ralen's calculation and Wake's gut feeling had been correct, however. He watched as the Ashamine ship flew into the line just as the projectiles were about to pass. All four tungsten alloy rounds hammered directly into the deck window. The plasti-glass fractured and exploded outwards in a shower of debris. Wake saw the bodies of the deck crew fly into space and knew they were experiencing the fate he’d just escaped. Us or them.
Captain Malesis pulled out of the dive as hard as he could, trying to avoid a collision with the Ashamine ship. “This is gonna be close!” Wake checked his harness straps, knowing they wouldn't save him if they struck the other ship at this speed.
We're gonna hit,
Wake thought, the enemy ship looming in the main window. Collision alarms sounded, too late to change anything. Closing his eyes, Wake braced for impact. His body felt the extra g-force as Captain Malesis pushed the ship to its limit, barely missing the larger vessel. Bodies bounced off their front window and hull as they passed the Antadroga. The muffled thumps made Wake queasy.
He thought they were away from the debris cloud until a final figure came streaking towards the window, the hulking body spinning wildly in the air. Striking squarely against the main window, its head exploded, leaving a smear of blood and brain that froze instantly. Then he was gone, body consigned to the void for eternity unless the Ashamine somehow retrieved it. “Damn,” Wake muttered.
“We cheated the fires of the dark star once again!” Captain Malesis proclaimed. “I won't say I'm happy those people died, but...” After a beat or two passed, he resumed. “We have the needed separation from the Ashamine ship and are far enough inside the worm zone to engage the drive. Carson,” he said,
glancing towards a dark skinned man Wake had yet to be introduced to, “it would be quite unfortunate if the Ashamine tracked us from the worm impression, so forty for seven.” The man named Carson raised his hand and nodded to acknowledge the order. He didn't look up from his console.
Wake didn't know enough about worm travel to understand what the Captain had said, so he turned to Ralen. “Forty for seven?”
“Yeah, forty false signatures for each of seven worms,” Ralen replied quickly, looking up from his terminal. “No way to get rid of our actual worm impression, so we try to keep the odds in our favor by using false trails.” He let out a short bark of a laugh. “Carson will make sure that some come out near black holes, or in star-forming regions like that nebula. Attempting to follow us would be hazardous.”
“Sounds like it,” Wake replied, impressed by their resourcefulness. Silence once again returned to the deck, each of the crew focused on their tasks. “Captain,” Wake said after a minute had passed, “is there anything I can do? I appreciate what you did and would like to do what I can in return.”
Before Captain Malesis could answer, the ship shuddered, and blackness sprung up at its nose, enveloping it. The void soon swallowed the entire ship, the exterior darkness. Then the stars were back, but in a different configuration than they had been just moments before. Wake let himself breath again, glad their passage through the worm had been successful.
“Don't worry about it,” Captain Malesis said, picking the conversation back up. His voice was straightforward, tone frank. “We simply did what was right. We know the failure of the Traynos bridge wasn't your fault. The Ashamine is to blame, completely. We intercepted intel that they were planning the sabotage, but weren't able to get there in time to stop it. When we arrived, the bridge had already collapsed.
“After that, we kept an eye on you. The Brotherhood
figured the Ashamine would try to eliminate conflicting stories. We hoped our demonstration at your trial would scare the Elders, that defeating Karthis would show them your loyalty and patriotism. We thought it would change their decision to have you take the fall.”
“Wait, wait,” Wake interjected. “Why would the Ashamine kill those colonists? They were miners. Those people wouldn't show up on anyone's sensors.”
“All you say is true, or at least it was until a few weeks before the accident. What brought those miners onto the Ashamine High Command's sensor array was a discovery made while mining. We don't know all the facts, mind you. The Brotherhood can only hash so deeply and all the details are way
deep, like High-Elders deep. We did manage to find out it's something ancient, and obviously important to the Ashamine. They seem to think it could revolutionize humanity. Ashamine HC didn't want the discovery becoming public knowledge. The logical thing was to eliminate those miners and blame it all on the engineer responsible for the bridge. Simple, clean, easy. They took some gambles though, especially when they sent you the faulty materials, but all that fell into the crevasse. The data evidence disappeared too. We looked for it. They were very thorough.”
Wake hadn’t believed those critical of the Ashamine, at least until his trial had become such a joke. Now, with what Captain Malesis had told him, he was convinced. “I knew the components they gave me were sub-standard, but they should have been serviceable for at least a few standard months. I was even on the bridge doing maintenance. I saw it all happen...” Wake trailed off and fell silent, eyes falling to the floor.
“It wasn't your fault,” Captain Malesis tried to comfort Wake.
After a moment, Wake looked up, a supernova's worth of
fury burning in his eyes. “They set me up. They tried to execute me. I felt guilty, felt responsible for the deaths. Now I find out the bridge was sabotaged?” His voice boiled with rage. “They killed innocent people to keep an archaeological discovery secret? That's despicable. Horrendous! I hope they get blighthearted while they burn in the fires of the dark star. It would be the smallest part of what they deserve!”
Captain Malesis' face lit up with a broad smile. “Welcome to enlightenment, Wake. You are experiencing what every one of us in the Brotherhood has gone through: the realization the Ashamine government you love and trust isn't the pure, altruistic entity you thought it was.
“Any one of us here could tell you our stories about how we discovered the truth, but it wouldn't sound a lot different from your own. Diverse circumstances, same blightheart. We are here to hinder and remove as much of the Ashamine corruption as possible, using any and all means necessary. That's partially why we came to your aid. Innocent people being executed in the selfish interest of government is unacceptable. The Brotherhood won't allow it. You were a special case, as I mentioned, because we couldn’t stop the murders before they happened. We couldn’t let you take the fall. We were honor bound to intervene.”
Wake felt drained after his outburst, overwhelmed at the growing implications. The system he had served was rotten and putrefying. “What do I do now?” he asked, unsure if he was questioning Captain Malesis or himself. Captain Malesis answered first.
“I'm sure you realize you can never go back to any Ashamine controlled planet, at least not looking like or being identified as Wake Darmekus. So here are your options as I see them: you can either live out your days hiding on some outer planet, or you can take a stand against the Ashamine and fight for the good left in humanity.
“Obviously you know what decision we would like you to make, but we will help regardless. We read your personnel file. We know you have valuable skills. We also noted your integrity. If you decide against us, we will drop you off in a safe place and give you enough Ashcreds to start a new life. If you decide for the Brotherhood, you have a home amongst us. It's dangerous, but what worthwhile thing in human history was not worth fighting or dying for? The choice is yours, no pressure. Take all the time you need.”
Wake knew he couldn't live in hiding, couldn't stand by knowing the corruption that festered in the heart of the Ashamine. He had to do something about it and the Brotherhood seemed the best way. The human government still contained many good qualities. Maybe I can be influential in restoring the Ashamine to the just and honorable system I thought it was.
Wake took a deep breath. “I want to join the Brotherhood. I'm ready.” He looked into Captain Malesis' eyes, confident. “I need to make a difference. I want to help restore the Ashamine.”
“Well now, that was quick. I don't think you'll regret it though. We're a good group, and we take care of our own. Let me be the first to formally welcome you, Wake Darmekus, into the Brotherhood of Azak-so.”