Omega Force 5: Return of the Archon (7 page)

It was rather anticlimactic. Crusher was on his knees in a sitting position, his hands resting lightly on his thighs, eyes closed, and his shoulders rose and fell with his slow, steady breathing. Jason recognized this as a kind of meditative position the big warrior would go into if he wanted to calm himself or simply slow his bodily functions down after a workout. He’d also seen him do this prior to combat, however, so this was either an attempt to stay calm or it was simply a precursor to a horrifically violent confrontation.

“Hello, Captain,” Crusher said, his voice soft and steady.

“Hey,” Jason said, sitting on one of the benches. “So, that was some display back there.”

“I apologize for the table,” Crusher said, still not opening his eyes. “I will pay for it out of my personal account.”

“I’m not concerned about the table,” Jason said. “My only concern is that you’re okay. You’re usually more in control than that.”

“Did you come here to get my side?” Crusher asked. “I assume you’ve already talked to the Caretaker.”

“I did not. I confined them to berthing after you left the galley,” Jason said, beginning to relax now that it appeared Crusher was completely in control of himself again. “Honestly, I don’t care about their side. And I’m not here to pump you for information either. I’m interested, of course, but if you choose not to share that’s your business. I’ve trusted you with my life since we started all this together and that hasn’t changed. You give me the word and we’ll drop those three off on the nearest habitable rock and be done with the entire thing.”

Crusher’s eyes opened slowly and he stared at Jason a moment before speaking.

“Thank you, Captain,” he said finally. He rose in one fluid motion and sat on a bench opposite from Jason. “The situation won’t be resolved that simply, I’m afraid. I’ll need to hear the details, of course, but Galvetor has been on the brink of a civil war for some time. If it’s over the usual argument, I’d imagine one side or another has gained some sort of advantage that makes them think they can break the stalemate.”

“Civil war over what?” Jason asked. “Isn’t Galvetor intentionally isolated?”

“Which brings us to the source of the conflict,” Crusher said. “There is a small but vocal group that feels it’s time we begin to exert our influence. Their movement is growing and they’ve convinced more than a few players that we have the means by which to become a major power on the galactic stage.”

“Your warrior caste,” Jason guessed.

“Yes. Thanks to millennia of tradition, Galvetor has a powerful, willing army of shock troopers that would be an absolute terror if unleashed on their neighbors.”

“They wouldn’t just strike out militarily would they? The ConFed won’t allow you to begin invading neighboring star systems,” Jason said slowly.

“No,” Crusher sighed. “It would be the threat of violence from the legions that would extort our trading partners into favorable terms. Given that our closet neighbors are not only relatively peaceful, but also master ship builders, I wouldn’t think it would be long before Galvetor was fielding a powerful fleet to go along with their army.”

“Don’t take any offense at what I’m about to say,” Jason said carefully, “but isn’t this all a little … simplistic?”

“Yes and no,” Crusher said. “I’m giving you the broad strokes, but you’re right … we’re not a politically sophisticated people. That may be due to our isolation or it may just be a character flaw.”

“I suppose we should finish our discussion with Connimon and then you can decide from there what you want to do,” Jason said after a long moment of thought.

“Agreed,” Crusher said, standing up. “So far she’s given no particular reason why they’ve taken the trouble to track me down.”

Twenty minutes later they were all reassembled in the galley, seated at the second table, smaller table, with Twingo and Kage conspicuously absent. The gelten contingent all wore studiously blank looks peppered with occasional glances at Crusher. Jason watched it all with great interest. Crusher was the only member of his species he’d ever seen, so the way they treated him with deference while simultaneously seeming to genuinely fear him gave Jason some further insight as to who Crusher, or Felex, really was. As per their agreement when they’d left the armory, Crusher took control of the meeting.

“Now that we’ve all had time to cool our tempers,” he began, “I’d like to know why you’ve come to find me. Tread wearily, Caretaker, for I will tolerate no lies.” Jason’s right eyebrow lifted a notch as Crusher seemed to switch between his usual, familiar manner of speaking and an odd, stilted formality.

“As we were discussing, Galvetor is on the brink,” she said, holding up a hand to cut off Crusher’s protest. “I know, Felex … this conflict has been brewing so long that it has a feel of normalcy to it. Maybe it’s even slipped into the background of everyday life. The vast majority of our citizens feel it’s just the harmless wrangling of politicians that, in the end, will impact their lives very little.

“My first indication that things may have changed was the concerted effort to have you removed. You were far too influential and a traditionalist; the legions would never have budged with you still in place as Archon. It was a surprise to everyone when you accepted exile without much of a fight.”

“I had little choice,” Crusher said. “The legions had made it clear they would resist any overt effort to remove me. Had I not stepped down, there was no doubt it would have led to a violent conflict between us and Galvetor Internal Security.”

“That was the thought of the senior leadership as well,” Connimon confirmed. “We gravely miscalculated, however, and in the time of your absence the oversight committee has been staffed with interventionist sympathizers.”

“The oversight committee is a strictly civilian council that observes the warrior caste and acts as a liaison between the legions and the capital on Galvetor,” Crusher said to Jason. “During the wrangling between isolationist and interventionist factions within the civilian government, both sides try to stack the deck in their favor in the oversight committee in case the worst was to happen.”

“You mean if this little political cold war turned hot, the side that had the most influence over the legions would have a huge advantage,” Jason said.

“Essentially, yes,” Connimon said. “But with Felex as Archon, none of this would have mattered. Not a single warrior would have marched without his consent. It was the main reason he was forced out; neither side liked the level of influence he exerted on such a powerful force.”

“Especially not when they wanted it for themselves,” Jason said, nodding in understanding. “So this title … Archon … you were the presiding military officer within your ranks?”

“It’s not quite what you would call a ‘general’ in your own experience,” Crusher explained. “I was, am still, I suppose, the spiritual, political, and military leader of my people. I know I’m making it sound like a cult, but being a Galvetic warrior isn’t something you volunteer for. You’re born into it and have little choice of being anything else. As such, our society is a bit different than the volunteer military force of your peers that you enlisted in.” This was the first time since they had met the geltens in Colton Hub that Crusher had fully admitted that what Connimon said of him was true. Her slow nod of agreement seemed to say she took this as a small victory.

“What do you mean that you still are?” Jason asked in confusion.

“He cannot be removed from his position while he is still alive,” Connimon answered. “Felex’s death would need to be confirmed before the process of elevating a new Archon could begin. As an exile, he was far more useful; so long as he was thought to be alive no other could claim his place and cause them similar problems.”

“I’d imagine there was also the added benefit that the legions, a militarily organized group, had a bit of a power vacuum with their Archon suddenly gone,” Jason said, thinking aloud. “This would allow the council to step into that leadership role and strengthen the opposition’s grip on the warrior caste just that much more.”

“Very good, young captain,” Connimon said with some surprise. “You seem to have some grasp of the psyche of our warrior brothers.”

“I know militaries,” Jason corrected. “And I’ve found that the similarities run deep, even across different species. Was I correct in hearing that there are no female warriors? I suppose there’s something obvious I’m missing … but how do you keep the race alive?”

“Despite the physical differences, there is actually very little genetic difference between geltens and the warrior sub-race,” Doc said, speaking up for the first time since they’d reconvened. “A warrior child is always male, but can be born to what we would refer to as ‘normal’ geltens. Although the gene that determines this is carried by the female, a mating couple with a warrior male greatly increases the chances.”

“Yes,” Connimon said. “Since warrior offspring are rare, one out of every few hundred, it is a great honor for the family when it happens.”

“We’re getting a bit far afield here,” Crusher said, exerting control over the wandering conversation. “What exactly do you need of me?”

“We didn’t seek you out to antagonize you,” Connimon said. “As I’ve said repeatedly, Galvetor is on the brink of war and the legions look as if they are ready to pick a side. Then there is the fact that senior leadership within the ranks have been rounded up and imprisoned.”

“On what charges?” Crusher demanded.

“Anything they can make stick. Sedition, conspiracy to overthrow the government, misappropriation of funds.” Connimon shrugged. “The list has been varied and predictably ridiculous, but thanks to the justice system the legions operate under, the conviction rate has been nearly one hundred percent.”

“Where are they being held?”

“They’ve been taken to Galvetor itself,” Connimon said. “They were deemed too dangerous to leave on Restaria.”

“Restaria?” Jason asked.

“It’s the second habitable world in our star system,” Connimon said. “Generations ago, the warrior caste agreed to live there after the last civil conflict on Galvetor. There’s something else, Felex … they took Fordix. His arrest and imprisonment was what made us leave and seek you out.”

“We also felt it was only a matter of time before the Caretaker was also falsely accused and locked up in a cage,” Morakar said quietly from his end of the table. Crusher’s shoulders were bunched up and his fists were clenched. Jason knew his friend well enough to know that he was barely in control of his temper.

“Caretaker,” Crusher began in a calm voice. “If you would, please give me some time to discuss all of this with my crew.”

“Of course,” she said with a bow and led the other two warriors from the galley and back to port berthing where they’d already spent some time.

“This is a lot to take in,” Jason remarked dryly. “So who is Fordix?”

“The short answer is that he was my mentor,” Crusher said. “It goes much deeper than that, however. He was more like a father to me.”

“So what do you want to do?”

There was a pregnant pause while Crusher contemplated Jason’s question.

“I don’t have much of a choice,” Crusher said quietly. “I’ll need to travel to Restaria at the very least to determine what is really going on. Even though I know her well, I don’t discount the possibility that Connimon has her own agenda.”

“OK,” Jason said simply. “I’m putting the
Phoenix
at your disposal for as long as you need her. You’ll be both tactics and operations on this trip, so we’ll be taking our lead from you.”

“I won’t insult you by trying to talk you out of this,” Crusher said, “so I’ll simply say: Thank you.”

“If you are in exile, how will we safely travel to your homeworld?” Lucky asked, getting down to business.

“We won’t be going to Galvetor,” Crusher said. “We wouldn’t be able to land the
Phoenix
there anyway. Instead, we’ll fly directly to Restaria and begin operations from there. While I’m technically not supposed to be on either world, the reality is they expected me to simply slink away into the wilderness of our world. The legions don’t use up a lot of space and the bulk of Restaria belongs to nature.”

“So why didn’t you?” Jason asked. “Just go camping, that is.”

“Pride,” Crusher said. “While I willingly accepted my sentence, I wasn’t happy about it. I asked to be dropped off on a frontier world, convinced I would thrive among the weaker species. I wasn’t prepared for the cunning of the galaxy’s criminal element. After a year or so of bouncing around, I was drugged and chained and presented to Bondrass as a gift to settle a debt. You know how that turned out.”

“Is there any place we can safely land? Other than a spaceport?” Jason asked.

“There is,” Crusher confirmed. “Here’s what I had in mind …”

The
Phoenix
had changed course and increased speed and was streaking though the ether of slip-space towards the Galvetor System. Jason sat in the pilot’s seat, trying to absorb as much information as he could on Crusher’s homeworlds in the short amount of time he had. Information on Galvetor was slim on any public nexus, but Connimon had uploaded some files to the
Phoenix’s
main computer that filled in a lot of the gaps.

The split culture of the geltens was fascinating. Jason had yet to encounter a people with such a divided personality. The warrior caste had been developed over centuries and centuries of careful selective breeding until the unique traits of Crusher’s kind began to emerge. The blunted snout, the vestigial crest on the forehead, the exaggerated sensory organs around the head, and even the sheer size and strength were all traits missing from Connimon. To Jason, she simply looked like any other bipedal alien with dark, almost black skin.

They’d inadvertently developed the most powerful warriors in the known galaxy, if one were to discount Lucky’s creators giving life to the battlesynths, and when those warriors reached the zenith of what was possible as a species, their world no longer needed or wanted them. They were an army without a war. The general consensus was that the warrior class was too dangerous to live among the normal citizenry and a concerted effort to remove them from Galvetor began in earnest. Predictably, the warrior class, whose only crime was to be born different, pushed back against them. Hard. Bloody conflicts forced the government’s hand and a solution needed to be found, and quickly.