Age of Destiny (The Broken Stars Book 1) Read online

  Copyright, Tony Healey

  Age of Destiny (The Broken Stars – Book 1)

  Copyright Tony Healey 2014

  This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. No part of this work may be reproduced in any form without the express permission of the author.

  Edited by Laurie Laliberte

  http://laurielaliberte.blogspot.com

  The Broken Stars

  The Terran Union is at war. As the conflict with the Sjan reaches breaking point, the fate of the stars themselves rests in the hands of Max and his ragtag band of friends; a group of misfits who might just prove to be the galaxy's last, best hope . . .

  http://tonyhealey.com/books/the-broken-stars/

  Also by Tony Healey

  *

  Far From Home: Series 1

  Far From Home: Series 2

  Far From Home: Series 3

  The Bloody North (The Fallen Crown, Book 1)

  The Rising Fire (The Fallen Crown, Book 2)

  Dead Pretty

  Operation Chimera (with Matthew Cox)

  Hitler Must Die (with William Vitka)

  Sun Hammer Part 1 (with Bernard Schaffer)

  Confederation Reborn: Halley Station (with Bernard Schaffer)

  Resistance Front (Contributor)

  Carnival of Cryptids (Contributor)

  Primetime (Contributor)

  Edge of Oblivion (Editor & Contributor)

  Contents

  1.

  2.

  3.

  4.

  5.

  6.

  7.

  8.

  9.

  10.

  11.

  12.

  13.

  14.

  15.

  16.

  17.

  18.

  19.

  20.

  21.

  Afterword

  About Tony Healey

  For my four girls:

  Lesley, Leah, Freya & Olivia

  The Oppressor cut through the stars.

  It moved under great power, an obsidian dagger that was as much an unstoppable force as the Sjan Empire itself. Weapons placements and cannons bristled like cactus spines from every one of its angular surfaces. Gigantic hangar bays along the behemoth's belly concealed thousands of star fighters – deadly hornets that would swarm from the hive and overwhelm their unsuspecting target by sheer numbers alone.

  A deadly, mobile battle platform from which an entire war could be waged.

  Silas Doum walked the command deck slowly, hands clasped behind his back, watching with an air of serene patience as the Union starbase loomed into view. Immense bay windows lining the Oppressor's command deck offered an unparalleled view of the surrounding nebula. Energy detonated within it in bright flashes of light where clouds of stellar material touched and collided. It would have been considered beautiful were it not for what was about to transpire.

  "We are holding position. Your orders, My Lord?" Doum's second in command, Captain Sherfus, asked. He was a short, stout Sjan who'd risen up the ranks through long years of service to the Empire. Though he lacked vision, Silas Doum had enough for the both of them. Sherfus could command a warship and that was good enough – for the most part.

  "Make contact with the station," Doum said, his voice deep, every word spoken with gravitas and control. "Order them to lower their defence screens. Prepare for my arrival."

  "Yes, My Lord," Sherfus said, relaying the order across the command deck.

  Silas Doum's mask gave nothing away – emotion, or intention. The metal that shielded his features from view was red, the same as the rest of his attire. There were no apparent slots in the mask for sight or breath, though he managed both. A hood concealed the back of his head and was attached to a cape. It was rumoured that beneath his coverings Doum was as humanoid as any Sjan. His blood-red attire was a splash of colour against the otherwise monochrome interior of the Oppressor.

  "Their defence screens are going down," Captain Sherfus announced.

  "Launch fighters to patrol the station." Doum ordered. He turned to the Sjan female who stood at the far end of the command deck with her arms crossed."Aro, with me."

  She dressed completely in black leather armour, with only her head exposed. Hair pulled back tight. Eyes keen and cruel. Aro carried a long black whip, quite thin and light, yet deadly in the right hands. The ominous spectre nodded once, silent as a tomb, and obediently followed her master as he swept from the command deck.

  ___***___

  Emergency klaxons rang out within Research Station 41. Commander Kenner stood over his communication officer's shoulder. "Nothing?"

  "Only direct contact with the Sjan is possible. All other communications have been completely neutralised," she said. "Nothing in or out."

  He shook his head. "Keep trying."

  "But sir–"

  Kenner straightened. "You heard. Don't give up," he said through the din of the alarms.

  "Yes sir," she said. "Right away."

  The Commander ran a hand over his chin, felt the scratchy stubble there. "Can someone shut that damn racket off?" he snapped. He'd always known there was a possibility the Sjan might turn up at their doorstep, but the chances of it happening had always seemed so remote . . .

  "Commander, they've launched fighters," Lieutenant Rhyse reported. "And a single shuttle."

  "Our visitors," Kenner said, his jaw set hard.

  The wail of the klaxons suddenly died around them as the alarms were silenced, much to his relief.

  "Shall I get everyone armed?" Lieutenant Rhyse asked.

  "No!" Kenner snapped. "That's the last thing we should do. If we keep our heads and do as we're told, there might be a chance of living through this. Tell everyone to stand by and alert the Carters to the situation. I don't plan for us to become another statistic."

  He turned on his heel and headed for the door.

  "Sir? Where are you going?" Rhyse asked him.

  Kenner stopped in the threshold, the corridor outside bathed in red light. It made it look as if he stood before a backdrop of blood, the station an abattoir. "I'm going to meet our guests. And pray they're in the mood to be merciful."

  ___***___

  "Tell the Commander I will be there straight away," Dr. Samuel Carter said and closed the connection with the bridge.

  His wife watched him expectantly, their infant son in her arms, squirming about. "Well?"

  Sam swallowed. "The Sjan are here. Doum with them, no doubt."

  "Oh God . . ."

  "I don't know how he traced us here," Sam said, walking slowly across the room as he spoke, his mind racing. "But there can be no doubt what he's come for."

  Elena clutched their son to her more tightly. "No. We can't allow him to–"

  "I know, Elena," Sam said, voice heavy with regret. "You realise what this means. We have planned for this moment a long time. Elena, we both knew there may come a day we have to say goodbye to him."

  The baby murmured against her and she rocked gently to soothe him. Sam put his arm around her and looked down at their son.

  "I'm scared," Elena said.

  He pulled her in tight. "Everything we have worked for, everything depends on him."

  "I wish we could have found another way," Elena said, eyes full of tears.

  He husband planted a kiss on the top of her head. "This is the only way to prevent Doum getting his hands on all we have worked for."

  "Sam, now we're here . . . I don't know if I can go through with it."

  "You have to, for his sake," Sam said. He walked to the door. "Lock this as soon as I leave. It will buy you time."

  "Where are you going?"

  Sam's face was grave. "Don't worry about me, my love. Focus on preserving what we've worked for all this time."

  Elena went to him, reached out, grabbed his hand before he could leave. She kissed him firmly on the lips. "I love you."

  "I love you too. Both of you," he said. She watched him go then stepped back inside the lab. The door closed and Elena set the controls to lock it. The baby whimpered and she sang under her breath as she worked with him in her arms, focused on what needed to be done, despite the tears coursing her cheeks. She dared not set him down and miss one second of having him near.

  "There, there," she whispered softly as the child let loose a single, confused cry. "I'm here."

  ___***___

  "Doctor," Commander Kenner said.

  Sam gestured toward the sleek craft moving through the entrance to the hangar bay. "Is that them?"

  There was a jolt as the Sjan shuttle set down on the deck of the hangar. The doors lifted open on both sides and Sjan soldiers spilled out, taking defensive positions around the shuttle with their weapons drawn.

  A woman all in black stepped out, scanning the entire hangar for any sign of hostility. She had a blaster in a holster on her hip and held a long, thin black whip at the ready.

  "Who's that?" Kenner asked out the side of his mouth.

  "Don't know," Sam said. Now another, far more imposing individual exited the shuttle. He stood seven feet tall, dressed fully in red. A hood covered the back of his head – his face concealed by a red metal faceplate, entirely devoid of feature. Roughly moulded without anything approaching a finish – as if it were from a sheet of metal fashioned in the dark ages.

  Kenner visibly swallowed as the lea
der of the Sjan Imperial forces strode toward them, flanked by the woman. He stopped less than three feet away. "You are the commander of this station?"

  "Y-y-yes," Kenner stammered. He drew himself up, stuck his chin out in an attempt to drive his own fear down and look more in control than he was. "I am Commander Kenner with the Terran Defence Force."

  Silas Doum's implacable gaze fell on Sam. He could feel it even though it was not visible. "And you are Doctor Carter, I presume."

  Sam nodded once. "Correct."

  Doum was silent for what seemed an age. "You do not fear me, Doctor?"

  "No, I am not afraid of the inevitable. I knew that eventually you would become aware of my work and attempt to locate me," Sam said. "I also know that you are very good at what you do."

  "And that is?"

  "Anything you can to further the cruel agenda of the Sjan Empire," Sam spat.

  "Cruelty is subjective, Doctor. Depending on multiple factors," Doum said. "We shall discuss this further, at length, aboard my warship. Aro, detain the prisoner."

  Kenner stepped forward. "No! You can't do this!"

  Silas Doum's arm flicked out, his hand snatching Kenner by the neck. The Commander's legs kicked as Doum lifted him effortlessly off the deck. "I will tear this station apart before finally committing your crew to the frozen hell of space!" he snarled.

  Aro took Sam by the elbow and led him toward the shuttle.

  Kenner's face turned a deep blue, his eyes bulging as Doum's hand squeezed.

  "You're killing him!" Sam protested. He tried to pull away from Aro but found he couldn't break her abnormally leaden grip. "Get off me . . . get off!"

  "When will you humans ever learn that you simply cannot withstand the might of the Sjan Empire?" Doum asked, crushing Kenner's neck and tossing him away as if he were garbage. His body fell in a crumpled heap on the floor, lifeless as a rag doll.

  Sam got free of Aro's grip. He got several feet before Aro flicked out her whip, caught him around the throat, and sent him reeling backwards. He fought against it, trying to pry the tail from his neck as Aro squeezed the handle of the whip, sending a powerful charge down the length of it. The shock paralysed the Doctor as the current coursed through his entire body. He went rigid before collapsing with a painful groan.

  Aro gave the whip a sharp flick. It released its grip around its victim's neck and recoiled back into her hand.

  Doum came to stand over him. "Doctor Carter, why fight what you can't change? The reign of your race is ended." He pressed his boot down on Sam's hand, crushed the bones with his heel – they snapped and popped like twigs.

  Sam let loose a blood-curdling scream, then another. Aro dragged him back to his feet, holding him by the arm.

  "Our time has come. A new era," Doum said.

  "Wherever you go there is only death," Sam panted. He glared at Doum. "The galaxy won't stand for your tyranny. There will always be those who oppose you. It will never stop."

  Silas Doum laughed. "Whoever said I'd want it to? The Union will fall, my friend. We will rise in its place."

  Dr. Sam Carter cradled his broken hand. "The higher you rise the farther you have to fall."

  "Poetic," Doum said. He turned to his soldiers. "Search this station top to bottom. I want their research located. They were working on something here. Find it."

  The Sjan troops filed past at a brisk march, guns at the ready.

  "You'll never find it. We've taken measures to protect it," Sam said. "My wife and I have had our memories altered to prevent you forcing the information from us."

  "Aro . . ." Silas Doum said, looking away and uttering a barely perceptible sigh.

  Aro took Sam's broken hand in her own and made a fist, crunching the shattered bones together. The Doctor's legs turned to jelly, but he managed to keep his footing. It took every inch of his resolve not to scream again, not to let them know his pain.

  "I respect your determination," Doum said, head cocked to one side as he watched the torture take place. "But in the end, it is worthless. A waste of my time, and yours. My men will not stop until your research is found and delivered to me. I will hold the secret to locating the Keys in my hand, Doctor. Though, perhaps Aro can persuade you to save us the bother. Take him."

  Aro dragged him into the shuttle, kicking and trying to fight his way free.

  Silas Doum stalked out of the hangar.

  ___***___

  The crew of Research Station 41 were predominantly civilians. Not trained in the ways of war, but educated in the sciences. When Lieutenant Rhyse watched his commanding officer murdered on the live feed from the hangar bay, he knew fighting the Sjan was a hopeless notion.

  "I am assuming command," he said to what remained of the bridge crew. The rest had gone to other sections of the station. "All hands, evacuate. Repeat, abandon ship. General order twelve."

  The lights around them turned a deep shade of blue to alert the crew of the station that should they hope to survive, they were to find the nearest escape pod.

  "What about us?" Tactical Officer McCreary asked him.

  Lieutenant Rhyse took a deep breath. "Leave. Now. I will remain behind for as long as I can."

  "Sir . . ."

  "Go," he said. He turned to look at them all. "Good luck everyone. And be aware this ship is swarming with Sjan."

  They filed out, McCreary giving him one last glance. "Goodbye, sir," he said.

  Rhyse nodded. With them gone, he walked to the door and smashed his fist into the access panel, sealing it for good.

  ___***___

  Elena Carter didn't stop to acknowledge the change in lighting around her. She moved to the last of the computers and set about wiping its memory. Now all of their work was destroyed. Nothing left to fall into Silas Doum's hands. Every scrap of research had been sent to the digital oblivion that constitutes a complete memory wipe.

  Loud bangs and crashes issued from the other side of the door. Elena rushed to the single escape pod. She opened the hatch that was set into the wall, and the pod extended out into the lab on a track. She knelt and opened the lid.

  "Maximilian . . ." she said, holding the child in front of her so she could see his face one last time. He looked back at her, delighted at the sight of her face, mouth forming a gleeful smile. "You turn out good, do you understand me?"

  The baby studied her face, eyes uncomprehending, yet filled with love.

  She clutched him to her breast. "I will miss you forever."

  The door shook at the other end of the lab. Elena hurriedly lay the baby inside the escape pod. She tried not to dwell on the fact the pod bore a striking resemblance to a funeral casket. Each one could carry a single person, lying down as if they were in a coffin. She covered him over with a blanket, the same one he'd had since birth, then fetched the memory cube and put it down by his feet.

  Elena ensured the life support system was fully operational, then closed the lid. She got up and stood to one side as the pod slid back into the wall. She was afforded one last glimpse of her son as he disappeared behind the bulkhead. A cold fist had a hold of her heart, intent on squeezing.

  She flopped against the wall, crying as the door behind her broke free and smashed down on the deck. Sjan soldiers flooded the lab, took her off her feet, carried her to the centre of the room, and held her there.

  Silas Doum stepped over the mess in the lab's entrance. He gestured silently toward the banks of computers on his left. Each one displayed a blank screen. One of the soldiers attempted to gain access to each workstation in turn.

  "Well?"

  "Wiped, My Lord. Nothing remains," the soldier reported.

  Silas looked at Elena. "Take her to a cell aboard the Oppressor. She will prove instrumental in breaking her husband's silence, I am sure."

  "Yes sir," the soldier said, ceasing his efforts to access the computers.

  "I can't be broken!" Elena screamed as she was carried out. "Do you hear me? I can't be broken!"

  "Everyone has a breaking point," Doum answered her.

  He waited until all of them had left, then observed the Carters' workspace for himself, free from intrusion. Glass crunched underfoot. There was nothing left on the work surfaces to give any hint as to their research. He came to stand in front of the escape pod hatch on the wall. A message flashed on a small screen next to it: ESCAPE POD LAUNCHED.

  "Ingenious," Silas Doum said. He spared the lab one last look, turned on his heel, and left.