Omega Force 5: Return of the Archon (10 page)

“Legionnaires,” Crusher said, “At ease!” The response was immediate. The four facing Jason holstered their weapons with lighting speed and stepped to the side, arms locked to their sides and standing at a rigid attention. In fact, all the warriors in the room were locked up, forming into lines of four or five. Lucky looked around the room and, when he was certain that Crusher had control over the soldiers still standing at attention, secured his own weaponry and the angry red glow faded from his eyes as he stood down from full combat mode. Crusher nodded to him before addressing the warrior who was standing at the door. “What did you mean by members of the order only?”

“Just as I said, Lord Felex,” the warrior said, looking straight ahead as he did. “Your companions may wait out here, but they will not be permitted to pass through this door.”

“That is your final say on the matter?”

“It is.”

“Let’s go,” Crusher said to Jason, walking back the way they’d come. “We’ve wasted our time coming here.” They had almost made it back to the archway when, amid the sharp gasps and groans of despair, Connimon’s voice rang out.

“Lord Felex,” she said harshly. “Why did you agree to come here if you just abandon us at the slightest inconvenience?”

“You don’t need me, Caretaker,” Crusher snarled back. He pointed to the warrior who was still standing watch at the door. “He appears to be making the decisions here. Have him fix your problems.” They were nearly to the door that led to the staircase when she caught up with them.

“Felex,” she said, now almost pleading, “please wait.” Crusher spun on her, teeth bared. She shrank against the wall and went to spin away, but Crusher slammed his palm into the surface in front of her, cutting off her retreat.

“I watched you allow that situation to spiral out of control,” he growled. “I don’t know what game you’re playing here, but I will not have my crew insulted or endangered. Not for you, not for anyone. No matter how long I’ve lived among aliens in the fringe worlds, I am
still
Felex Tezakar … I’ll tear your throat out and leave your body to rot in this alley without a moment’s hesitation if you get in my way.” Jason’s right eyebrow went up a notch as he watched the exchange, not sure if he believed what he was hearing.

Connimon, however, did believe it as her body began to tremble and she looked at Crusher for the first time with genuine fear in her eyes. “I meant no disrespect to you or your crew, my lord,” she said. “But how could I, the Caretaker, walk in front of a living Archon and give the appearance I was in charge? They would have not only ignored me, but that action alone would have stoked their anger. Have you forgotten what it is to lead on Restaria?”

“I have not,” Crusher said, leaning away from her and allowing her some space. “I had hoped to avoid it, however. The brutality and savagery of it all … my time away has made it seem so senseless.”

“We are who we are, Felex,” she said. “If you’re to help us, help Fordix, you will have to remember who, and what, you are as well.”

“Captain?” Crusher asked, leaving the final decision up to Jason.

“Let’s go see what is really going on here,” Jason suggested. “We can always walk away at any time. But I don’t think we should risk everyone in case this goes sideways again. Lucky, I need you to stay here with Doc, Twingo, and Kage. I’ll keep a channel open on my com unit and you can monitor us from there. It goes without saying, but if you hear screaming and shooting don’t let that door stop you.”

“I will be standing by, Captain,” Lucky acknowledged. Jason had found that giving Lucky orders he didn’t like went smoother if he offered an alternative like the open com channel. It allowed him to do what he wanted without the battlesynth hovering over him. Most of the time.

“Follow my lead,” Crusher said to Jason. “Try not to act shocked at what is about to happen.” Before Jason could ask what the hell he was talking about the big warrior was already striding down the corridor. When they walked in, the warriors were still there, babbling animatedly amongst themselves. The moment they appeared in the archway all of the conversation ceased.

Crusher strode purposefully towards the door and the warrior standing guard. As he reached the door, he drew back his fist and delivered a crushing blow to the warrior’s face, sending him flying back into the stone wall as blood erupted from the deep pressure cut that appeared. Before he could slump against the floor, Crusher grabbed his arm to hold him up and came down with another vicious hit to the side of the head. He threw the warrior, who was now convulsing, to the floor and turned to the rest of the room, blood dripping from his still-clenched fist.

“Is there anyone else here who would like to tell me where I can and cannot go?” he roared at them. “The next of you who questions me will die.
He
got off easy because I’m feeling generous. You! Open this door, NOW!” The warrior he pointed at lunged for the handle and nearly tore it off while trying to get the door open. When the heavy wooden door swung open on its hinges, Crusher shoved the warrior back out of the way. “My friend and I are going in,” he said. “Do any of you wish to challenge this?” Though none of them looked away in fear, none of them stepped up either. Crusher motioned for Jason to follow him and went into the next room.

The room was large and vaulted, but the only thing in it was a single table with three Galvetic warriors seated along one side, staring at them as they entered. Crusher walked into the center of the room and stepped into the light where they could see him. They sprang from their seats and locked into attention, staring straight ahead.

“Who are you supposed to be?” Crusher asked.

“We are an order that arose in your absence, Lord Felex,” the center warrior said. “We maintain the balance between the legions and Galvetor.”

“Interesting,” Crusher said, his voice indicating he thought it was anything but. “Nice to see I was so easily replaced. So what do you call yourselves?”

“We are the Archon’s Fist.”

*****

The three Galvetic warriors in the chamber identified themselves as the Praetores of the Archon’s Fist. Jason wasn’t sure what rank they may have held in their respective units, but as Praetores they were laying claim to the highest rank in the Galvetic Legions. But the more the trio talked, the more Jason got the distinct impression that, no matter the noble intentions at the beginning, the Archon’s Fist was more of a cult than a military unit. A cult that had Crusher as its surrogate deity. He only hoped that Crusher being here, in the flesh and mortal, would dispel some of that.

“The arrest and imprisonment of Fordix, without a trial I might add, was an affront. It was meant as an insult and a reminder of our place,” said Fostel, the elder of the three and the one they seemed to defer to.

“Do you have any reason why they would do this?” Crusher asked, leaning back in his seat. “This makes no sense to me. Even if they skipped a trial, which is within their power under extreme circumstances, they are required to provide a reason and a body of proof.”

“What sense does it have to make?” demanded Zetarix. From Jason’s impression he was the more hotheaded of the group and was often butting in with rash, and mostly unhelpful, comments. “Galvetor has harbored a deep resentment towards us for centuries. With Lord Felex gone, they have finally worked up the nerve to do something about it.”

“This is where we disagree,” added Mutabor, the third Praetore. “Like you, Lord Felex, I can’t see any logic in Galvetor’s actions of late. While it is true that without you our voice in the capital is muted, practically nonexistent, for them to move against us doesn’t have any obvious benefit for them.”

“Why must you apply logic to their blind prejudice?” Zetarix asked. “Has it occurred to you that—” He broke off instantly when Crusher raised his hand.

“Connimon spoke to me earlier of two factions in the capital,” he said. “That there were some underlying reasons that one or the other would be trying to gain control of the legions.”

“The Caretaker has some funny ideas,” Zetarix scoffed. “She is an able administrator, not a warrior.”

“Which may be exactly what is needed,” Mutabor argued. “She is also the only one on this entire planet who freely travels to Galvetor and interacts with the government there on a personal level.”

“Praetore Mutabor has a point,” Crusher said wearily, “and to be honest you’re all giving me a headache. I refuse to believe that Galvetor has suddenly upped and decided to wipe out the warrior class one day. Especially considering that we’re one of the main reasons they’re allowed to enjoy their private planet free of random invasions and interference.” He took in a deep breath before continuing. “Who really has a handle on what is going on here?” The three Praetores looked at each other a moment before one of them spoke up.

“Fordix,” Fostel said. “He was the one who had informants and connections on Galvetor and beyond.”

“You didn’t think any of that was pertinent information?” Crusher demanded loudly. “Please tell me that old fool wasn’t a part of this little club you have going on here.” Although Crusher seemed to miss it, Jason perked up when Fostel talked of Fordix having contacts that were beyond Gaveltor.

“He’s the one who approached us, my lord,” Mutabor said. “This was his idea. He said with you gone that we had to be ready to unite the legions.”

“And it’s also the obvious reason he was captured and imprisoned without trial,” Crusher said, rolling his eyes. “His informant was either part of a trap or was captured himself. Why was I not made aware of this the moment I walked in here?”

“We know what he means to you,” Fostel said. “Take no offense to this, Lord Felex, but we’re also well aware of your impulsive nature. We couldn’t afford to lose you too if you and Omega Force tried to blast into the prison and free him without talking to us first.” Jason, who had only been partially listening, snapped his head up.

“Yes, Captain Burke,” Mutabor said. “We know of your unit and Lord Felex’s place in it. Your, and his, exploits have been a point of special pride among us: you can exile the Archon, but you cannot take away his honor or sense of duty. The battle of Shorret-3 is told to our young trainees as an example of what can be possible, even in a hopeless situation, by even a few warriors with heart.”

“Don’t remind me,” Jason said with a shudder. “So answer me this … if you’re aware of our operations even as far back as the Eshquarian affair then why the need for secrecy? I would think Crusher would be welcomed home with a parade, or at least allowed to land the ship in an actual spaceport.” Jason had almost called the secret order nonsense, the theater of the absurd, but despite what he saw as a flair for the melodramatic, these were still powerful and deadly fighters. It also wouldn’t do him any good to insult the people he would likely need later on this op, wherever the hell it ended up.

“I’m still in exile,” Crusher answered, turning to him. “Landing the
Phoenix
here, a ship they likely have a description of, would only cause trouble. While many are loyal to traditions and to the Archon, their first loyalty is to Galvetor. They would see it as their duty to apprehend me or to alert the capital … and they’d be right.”

“So what will we do now, my lord?” Zetarix asked.

“We haven’t much of a choice,” Crusher answered. “We’ll do that rash thing you were so worried about … we’ll break Fordix out of Casguard Prison.”

Jason groaned.

“So what’s the story?” Twingo asked Jason when they were alone. Connimon had arranged for a suite of rooms within the building under which the secret meeting place of the Archon’s Fist was. Apparently it was not only a sort of administration center but living quarters as well.

“This is about to turn into a cluster fuck of epic proportions,” Jason said, leaning back in his chair and accepting a beer, or beer-like drink, from his friend.

“That good, eh?”

“I’m serious, Twingo,” Jason said. “I would never walk out on Crusher, or ask him to abandon something he feels so strongly about, but we have absolutely no idea what the hell is going on here. We’re used to rolling into situations blindly, but this is absurd.”

“What did you find out in their secret clubhouse?” Twingo asked.

“Only that they know less than we do and Connimon knows more than she’s letting on. I get the feeling she’s feeding out information to manipulate the situation to her liking, but the others don’t take her seriously anyway so it doesn’t really matter much,” Jason said. “This Fordix supposedly knows what’s at the heart of the unrest on Galvetor, but he’s in jail. So, of course, we’re going to try and break him out.”

“We’ve done that sort of thing before,” Twingo argued.

“Twice. We’ve only done it twice and both times with the benefit of airtight intel from Crisstof and logistical support from the
Diligent
,” Jason said.

“Speaking of which, did you let them know where we were heading?”

“Shit. No,” Jason admitted. “I’ll call them when we get back to the
Phoenix
. I don’t trust any of the com nodes here, at least not enough to enter the
Defiant’s
codes into.”

“You gonna call Kellea out here to run interference for us?”

“No,” Jason said, swallowing the last of his beer. “Crisstof has no influence here and the
Defiant
would just draw attention since it has no reason to be in the system.”

“So what do you think of the geltens?” Twingo asked, finishing off his own drink.

“Ker was a bit of a surprise,” Jason admitted. “I had thought I’d completely misjudged them based solely on Crusher when I first saw it, but in the end they didn’t disappoint. Crusher caved in the face of one of the warriors in there just to reestablish the authority of his position, and this was even among a group dedicated to who he is. But there’s a brutal simplicity to a warrior culture that I can appreciate.”

“Yeah … it should be a grand adventure for you and Lucky. Not so much for the rest of us,” Twingo said sourly. “Another thing I just thought of … who is giving the orders right now? That little scene in the antechamber between Crusher and Lucky was a bit tense. Crusher holds a very high position here, but you’re the captain of our merry little band … so who’s in charge here on Restaria?”