Fire Forged: A military science fiction space opera adventure. (Terran Expeditionary Corps Book 2) by Richard Fox

Author:Richard Fox [Fox, Richard]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Triplane Press
Published: 2024-10-22T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

“Because we have a treaty with the Inheritors, that’s why.” Ashara sucked the flesh from an orital berry and kept the fuzzy skin on the outer side of her teeth. She raised a cup to her mouth and spat the skin out. The inner pulp of the berries had a mild narcotic effect but ingesting the skins caused a degree of gastrointestinal distress that culminated in a sudden and violent need to defecate.

Yutan had allowed her orital from the station’s hydroponics gardens but had forbidden her from bringing a waste unit into the presence of the Morning Star’s Old Soul.

“I didn’t sign this treaty. Who did? They have betrayed our clan,” the juvenile holo said.

“Above my station.” Ashara shrugged. “The Inheritors’ presence here is temporary. I’ve told you this how many times?”

“The Zeis quarters in synch orbit are temporary. They’ve been empty for many orbits, but they’re still ready for product.” The Morning Star holo pointed up and a screen appeared, highlighting the location of slave pens floating around the station. “Ripping my bones apart to build a prison cell is permanent.”

“Prison cell?” Ashara sucked down another berry.

“The tall ones have an ugly one with them. Look.” The child’s eyes went white as hundreds of data feeds swirled around Ashara.

“Too much. Just show me what I need to—”

The data feeds coalesced into an image of a human female cowering in the corner of a cell.

“Oh. Her.” Ashara’s lip pulled into a sneer.

“Hokans don’t belong in my bones,” the Morning Star said. “Make her leave. Or I can decouple the Inheritor Quarter from me and dump her air.”

“What about the rest of the Inheritors? Don’t they need to breathe too?” Ashara asked.

“No. They don’t breathe.” The holo shook its head. “They don’t use reclamation systems. There’s no oxygen draw from in my scrubbers. They never order from the farms either.”

“How is that possible? They’re alive, aren’t they?” Ashara asked.

“Not like my people. The tall ones offend me,” the holo said. “The ugly one is more normal. I still don’t like her.”

“I don’t like her either. Chief Carson is Terran and it was the Terrans that murdered our returned Triumvirate. They also cast down the cursed Sacred Intelligence.”

“A mockery,” the holo said. “If I sabotage her cell, will the tall ones leave?”

“No. And they will punish Ultari for her death,” Ashara said.

“Then how do we make them leave?” the holo asked.

“As I have made abundantly clear—multiple times—the Inheritors are our allies against the hokan races. That means—”

All power cut out from the chamber, leaving Ashara in total darkness.

“Don’t act like this,” the Ultari sighed. Dealing with the ancient artificial intelligence at the core of the Morning Star station was worse than babysitting clan children. It was capable of intricate analyses and information processing, but it reasoned with a degree of petulance that frayed her limited patience.

A screen materialized, casting pale white light against Ashara.

An FTL plot of an incoming fleet appeared. It left hyperspace dangerously close to the gravity-well terminus of the planet the Morning Star orbited and split into two vectors.

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