Nemesis Read online

  The spider ship was part of a much larger invasion fleet; most of that fleet had been destroyed trying to make it through the rift when the Earth Alliance last opened it. Erevos had been transported back into the Spectre’s dimension, and the planet’s destruction had destabilized the space on their end around the singularity. As a result, most ships that composed Asrak’Vor’s fleet had been wiped out on the spot, and he now only had a few ships left from what was once a veritable armada with which to invade and purge the impure from this realm.

  Space and time were fragile constructs, and the ancient technology the Alliance used to create a rift between their dimensions was capable of playing havoc with the fabric of the universe. So when Erevos exploded while the rift was still partially open, it resulted in catastrophic effects within Asrak’Vor’s dimension.

  Now on the other side of the rift and being cut off from communication with his superiors for so long, Asrak’Vor could only speculate as to how far the damage had propagated into the Spectres’ dimension. And then there was the time dilation. On this side of the rift, it had been a year. From the Spectre’s perspective, only hours had gone by. The time dilation factor between the realms was significant and something the Spectre had trouble adjusting to.

  In this impure dimension, time passed substantially faster than where Asrak’Vor came from. Until he heard from his hierarchy, all he was able to rely on were some faint and incomplete sensor logs accumulated during the brunt of the explosion that had vaporized most of his fleet alongside the Fury home world.

  Asrak’Vor counted himself lucky since his ship was among the few that had survived the trip in one piece. More or less so. The Oblivion had suffered extensive damage in the explosion, and repairing it with the limited amount of resources available in this dimension had been challenging, at best. Fortunately, they had managed to effect partial repairs while staying undetected, thanks to their ship’s cloaking and superior stealth technology. Systems that would be paramount in striking back at the heart of the enemy—Earth.

  Soon, though, they’d get their hands on the necessary materials required to try to open communication back to their home world and the Spectre Council, and hopefully, receive new orders. Or reconsider a new strategy on how to complete their initial objective even with a crippled fleet and without the help from his hierarchy.

  But that gave Asrak’Vor pause. His brother had made the mistake of going off plan, and his wife and children had certainly paid a steep price. A fate that Asrak’Vor hoped his own family wouldn’t suffer. By now, Spectre Prime had most likely executed his brother’s family for his mistakes. With no way of communicating with his dimension, Asrak’Vor could only speculate, but failure was not something that was tolerated at the highest ranks of the Spectre military. And the current appointed Spectre Prime was famous for both his cruelty and lack of compassion.

  Why, brother? Why did you do it? You were supposed to wait for reinforcements before making a move. Why couldn’t you wait, Tanak...why?

  The thought of his nephews, nieces, and sister-in-law being executed because of his brother’s failure brought anger and fear to the surface of his mind. Unlike his brother, Asrak’Vor intended to succeed. Spectre Prime’s direct orders were not to engage the enemy openly until a stable rift gate between both dimensions had been put in place to allow for bi-directional dimension travel of both fleets and personnel. Then, and only then, would Asrak’Vor seek his brother’s murderer, the Fury called Chase Athanatos, and rip out his soul.

  Unfortunately, most of the building blocks required for the gate to be assembled on this side, which was the only option for opening a rift, had been lost with the rest of Asrak’Vor’s fleet. While it could theoretically be possible to construct a gate from the other side, this endeavor would take years, which would mean centuries would pass here, and the enemy could grow stronger.

  And with most of the building blocks gone, it would make his job of completing this mission all the more difficult. He would have to take risks and reveal their presence in the process. That part, he feared, could no longer be prevented. The trick was to make sure.

  In a sense, the Spectre had no other choice but to succeed in his objective, even if it meant he had to bend a few rules, something he was not keen on doing for fear of retribution from Spectre Prime. All he could hope for was once the gate was up and active, his masters would forgive whatever unorthodox methods Asrak’Vor needed to do to accomplish his objective.

  As for his thirst to avenge his brother Tanak, it was burning inside him like an eternal flame. Just like his brother before him, the fate of his family hung in the balance should he fail in his mission.

  With the fleet reduced to only a handful of damaged ships, the task would take longer than initially planned and would require both finesse and patience, neither of these virtues being the Spectre’s strong suit.

  1

  Earth - Auckland, New Zealand

  Emperor Altair sat at his desk in Earth Alliance Headquarters. The tall, red-skinned humanoid was pensive as he reviewed his agenda for the day. The doorbell chimed.

  “Come in.”

  The doors split open, and Captain Daniel Tharraleos stepped inside.

  “Ah, Daniel, thanks for coming. Please take a seat.”

  “It’s good to see you, Emperor.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you to call me Altair?”

  Daniel chuckled. “That’s still going to take some time for me to get used to. To think a few years back we were mortal enemies bound to destroy one another, and now we’re calling each other by our first names. Do you ever think about that?”

  “Not really, no. The old me, the ruthless Obsidian Emperor is, as far as I’m concerned, dead and buried. In fact, I think I need to ask the council to give me an Earth Alliance rank now, so I can fully shed that old skin and move forward. I don’t like my title anymore, it reminds me of a time where I was much too concerned about my own thirst for power. It’s no longer who I am if that makes any sense.”

  “It does, and you’ve certainly come a long way. In fact, I’d go as far as to say we’re lucky to have you lead the Earth Alliance. You were instrumental in us winning the Fury War.”

  Altair shook his head. “We both know that’s not true, but that’s very kind of you to say. Chase and the rest of you are the reason we’re sitting here this morning, at peace, and without the threat of impending doom looming over our heads. For a change.”

  Daniel smiled. “And you don’t give yourself enough credit, Emp—” Daniel corrected himself with a smile, “Altair. Winning the Fury War certainly was a collective effort, but you’ve saved our collective asses more times than I can count. Speaking of Chase,” he said, furrowing his brows, “any news? He hasn’t exactly been returning my calls lately.”

  “I’m afraid I haven’t heard from Chase either, not for a while anyway. I wouldn’t take it personally, though. I know the two of you are very good friends—”

  “With all due respect, we—we’re more than that, we’re brothers,” Daniel said with no small amount of sadness in his voice. “Not by blood, of course, but in spirit. Which is why I’m having such a hard time with him not being around or at least keeping in touch.”

  “I understand that must be difficult for you. He’s lost so much in bringing us victory. War is unfair that way. To ask so much of an individual and to reward him with loss and sorrow is…”

  “Cruel, I know. That’s what war does,” said Daniel solemnly.

  Altair nodded. “I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but you look tired.”

  “I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

  “I’m sorry; when we talked at the party, I thought you were kidding when you said you might not get any rest.”

  “And when I said so, I was, but somehow I ended up staring at the ceiling all night. I also had a little too much to eat and drink at the celebration, so, yeah, sleep eluded me.”

  “Did you at least enjoy yourself?”


  “Oh yeah, a little too much in fact. The Earth Alliance can definitely throw quite a celebratory party. Everything was top notch, the food, the open bar…obviously. As well as the company.”

  Altair smiled. “Yes, it was good seeing all our friends in one place, well, most of our friends anyway.”

  “I really hoped to see Chase there too. But I guess he wasn’t ready to be among his friends and loved ones just yet.”

  “I think, at least for the time being, that we may be a constant reminder of what he’s lost, you know? And that he’d rather not put himself in a position that potentially poured salt on an open wound. I know in his place, that’s how I would feel.”

  “Yeah, I figured as much. I remember when I lost Fillio...I hated how I felt whenever a smell or a food we shared reminded me of her and realizing that she was gone…it’s never easy.”

  Daniel let the words hang for a moment. “Speaking of last night, congratulations on your speech. I’d love to hear more about that space station you want to build.”

  “Well, as of this morning, we have a name: Alkyonidon Station.”

  “That’s a mouthful.”

  They both laughed.

  “It made sense to use an Olympian name, not only because of their important role in defeating the Furies…but I do suppose we could try to find a nickname for it.”

  “I’ll let you know if I come up with one.”

  “Yes, you do that, Daniel.”

  “I guess it’s a good name though, in remembrance of what that victory cost the Olympians. Basically, their world and most of their population.”

  “Yes, they’ve paid a dire price in this war. The station has been my pet project since right after the end of the war. I believe we need a place, central to the Alliance, in order to reinforce diplomatic ties between all our members, both current and future ones. The Fury War shook our universe; we’ve been on the brink of annihilation, and it’s only due to the sacrifices of brave men and women that we survived the onslaught. I’m hoping the station will allow us to focus on peace and making sure we can deal with any arising conflict before it gets out of hand.”

  “That’s a noble sentiment, and I think something we can certainly use.”

  “I wish everyone was so open to the idea.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “At first, when I proposed to build a space station, I was met with resistance by the council.”

  “That’s peculiar. Why do you think that is?”

  “These days, there’s no tangible threat intent on wiping us all out. So why would we want a station dedicated to peace rather than focusing on rebuilding what was lost on so many worlds? Let’s just say some of my colleagues don’t agree with me on the subject.”

  “I, for one, agree we need such a place, and I’m glad you convinced the council. Peace is a wonderful thing, but I believe it must be cultivated moving forward, or we run the risk of repeating past mistakes. Not to mention that we may yet face new threats in the future.”

  “My thoughts exactly. The Spectres could find a way into our dimension, and if they do…” Altair let the words hang in the air for a moment, “Gods help us.”

  “I’m surprised the council didn’t consider that.”

  “Oh, they say if the Spectres were able to enter our realm, they would have already.”

  “You did explain to them that time passes at a significantly slower pace on the other side, didn’t you?”

  “Tried, and I guess failed.”

  “Even if they don’t come, or come much later, having the station would allow us to have a base of operation.”

  “And now you see why I’ve fought so hard to make sure we started construction. We can already see some factions making their move to fill in the power voids throughout remote places in the Alliance. Pirates mostly, and nothing we can’t handle up till now, but the sooner we can put a coherent, multi-system government in place dedicated to peacekeeping, the better. That’s why I’m glad you see things my way. In fact, that’s exactly why I asked you here this morning. I’m looking for the station’s commanding officer.”

  Daniel’s face dropped. “Me? You want me to command the station?”

  “Why, yes. You seem surprised.”

  “I am. I—I mean I’m honored you’d think of me, but I’m mostly a Wing Commander.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short, Daniel, you did an incredible job in the last battle around Erevos, commanding a large destroyer fleet to victory involves more than just fancy piloting skills and leading squadrons.”

  “The only reason I was put in charge was that both Sarah and Athena were needed elsewhere. We both know that. Though, ironically, Athena never got to fight the Spectre. And let’s not forget if it wasn’t for Gaia’s last-minute weapons upgrades to the Victory, we might have lost that battle.”

  “But we didn’t. Look, Daniel, it doesn’t matter how or why it happened the way it did. You were in command, and you did an excellent job in a sensitive position. One you were thrust into under extreme circumstances. At the end of the day, that’s what history will remember. And that’s why I want you for this job. You’ve proven your quick to adapt to fast-changing situations, make life and death decisions under pressure, and you have a clear understanding of the chain of command. Something the council was very adamant about.”

  “I imagine you must have redacted some of my records then. While I always had a deeper understanding of the chain of command than Chase did, I also went against orders when I felt it was necessary.”

  Altair gave Daniel a big smile. “I know, and yes, I’ve redacted a couple of things. But that’s why I want you for the job and why the council doesn’t need to know. Sometimes, rules need to be broken, and you seem to understand the fine line in determining when to make those decisions. If Chase had followed every single order, without question, without rebelling when he thought it was needed, we would all be dead right now.”

  “That’s a blurry line to walk through if I ever saw one.”

  “One I believe you’re perfectly suited to navigate.”

  “Well, thank you, Altair. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate you’d trust me for the position, but...well—I have to admit I had imagined something else from this meeting.”

  “Such as?”

  “To be honest, I was kind of hoping I would get my own ship, you know?”

  “Ah, Starship Captain!”

  “Exactly. Don’t get me wrong, I love being in command of fighter squadrons, always have. But I always envisioned getting my own command would be the next logical step for me.”

  “Yes, and if we were currently at war, I would give you your own command on the spot, without a second thought. But if I were to do that today, it would mean your main duties would be patrolling Alliance territory day in and day out. Sure, you’d occasionally engage in skirmishes with pirates in order to maintain order in some desolate part of the galaxy, but I doubt it would be a fulfilling position for you. Not after all we’ve been through.”

  Altair could see Daniel was thinking about what he just said.

  “Perhaps…but then you’re assuming I’m looking for excitement. And that I will get it on a station dedicated to peace. Isn’t that kind of a dichotomy? Or am I missing something?”

  “Aren’t you looking for thrills? Even if only on a subconscious level; you must realize that by now. I know from personal experience this last year has been a transition phase for me. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t miss war, not in the least. And while it’s been nice taking time off and enjoying life for a change, the fact of the matter is that you and I have been warriors for most of our lives. I anticipate it will take a while longer to get used to this new paradigm.”

  “I suppose there’s some wisdom in what you say. I can also confirm I haven’t found the transition to peace to be as easy as I thought it would. Waking up in the morning not knowing if that day would be the day I bit the dust wasn’t fun, but it sure was a great motivator. Without the th
rill of the fight, I do spend most of my time bored out of my skull. Still, if I were to look for excitement, I’m not sure commanding a diplomatic space station will deliver, even compared to commanding a starship that’s mostly doing patrol runs.”

  “You’d be surprised. Something tells me this station will become a focal point of attention in the Alliance, and, as such, it won’t be an easy ride. Any way you look at it, the station will most certainly be built with a target painted on it. This Alliance has grown a lot in a very short time, and while we have tried to project an image of unity in the stellar broadcasts, bringing so many different races into a unified coalition hasn’t been all that easy. It would be best for you not to see this position as a retreat. If running it will be even a fraction harder than it was to green light the project, I can pretty much guarantee it will challenge both your patience and sanity at every turn. We fought hard to achieve peace, and without sounding too alarmist, my gut tells me we may have to fight just as hard to keep it.”

  “I’ll grant you one thing, Altair, you sure have some interesting sales pitches.”

  Altair chuckled.

  “Are there tensions building in the Alliance already?” Daniel continued.

  “Nothing major so far. Some old feuds are brewing now that races, which didn’t cohabitate with each other in the past are brought together in the bigger picture. Take the Ferogot and the Droxians for instance, once upon a time they were at war, and while the Droxians nearly extinguished them, there’s a serious thirst for revenge that still exists in many Ferogot. And now they’re asked to sit at the same table. That’s bound to cause some friction.”

  Daniel nodded.

  “But where are my manners,” continued Altair. “Would you like a drink? I could go for a strong coffee myself.”

  “Coffee sounds really good, thank you.”

  “How do you like yours?”

  “Black, please.”

  Altair pressed a few holo-controls on his glass desk, and shortly after, two circles of yellow light flashed as cups of steaming hot coffee materialized.