Purge of Prometheus

Deplitoxide was farmed from a small swamp planet called Beracus, in the Falitan Galaxy. The Terrans have set up a scientific outpost there, which is where we’ll find the information we need to restart the dying suns throughout the universe.

Keryn stood at the open end of the tables, her arms crossed and staring at the council. She closed her eyes, letting the Voice creep into her words. “Note that I didn’t, at any time, phrase our destination or our intent in the form of a question. My mission is unchanged, regardless of the crew with whom I serve. If, at any point, you feel that you cannot be a part of this expedition, I can point you to the closest exit to the ship. In fact, I will help you through the airlock.”

The Voice receded before Keryn spoke again, this time with a soft smile on her lips. “Now, are there any questions?”

The council members departed one at a time, having no dissent for Keryn’s plan. As the last couple left, Alcent stepped in front of Keryn and Adam, begging them to wait.

“You may not agree with them,” Alcent said, “but they are influential members of this ship. Many of the soldiers who helped win all of our freedom, yours included, once worked for one of those twelve men.”

“Then maybe it’s time these soldiers made their own path,” Adam grumbled from behind Keryn.

“Maybe you’re right,” Alcent conceded. “But some of these men have known nothing else but servitude for decades. You can’t expect them to become their own men overnight. You’d both do well to not make enemies so quickly.”

“Are you saying you won’t support us?” Keryn asked dangerously.

Alcent threw up his hands defensively. “You more than convinced me that we’re doing the right thing. I’ll even talk to the others. I’m sure they’ll support you too. I’m just recommending a different tact.”

“Once you’ve talked them into the plan,” Keryn explained, “get this ship ready for combat. I don’t imagine a Terran outpost is going to be undefended.”

Keryn grew restless as the ship covered the distance to Beracus. The men on board were not soldiers and hadn’t been trained as such. Many of her recommendations went unheeded and repairs were abysmally slow. She lost her temper frequently and relied on Adam to smooth over the relationships with those onboard.

When she wasn’t pacing, Keryn spent her time alternating between inspecting the weapons bays — where she found a storehouse of Deplitoxide rockets — and working in the computer room with a brilliant teenager named Wyck. Only sixteen years old, Wyck had been serving in Miller’s Glen in the communications tower of the spaceport. His knack for computers had made him invaluable in fooling hostile passing ships into believing that Miller’s Glen was an uninhabited planet. The same brilliance that earned him a job on the planet garnered him a job on board the Ballistae as well.

Almost immediately, Wyck had pointed out the shortcomings of the Terran computer system. “The Terrans spend all their time working on genetic and biological experiments but spend so little improving their existing technological advancements,” Wyck explained one day.

“They did invent the Deplitoxide missiles and blacked out all the suns in the known universe,” Keryn countered.

“Yes,” Wyck replied slowly, “but every one of those advancements are biological and organic weapons. Take this computer system as an example. Everything in it is encoded, but they’ve applied such a childish cipher that it takes me only minutes to crack and decode any file I want.”

“So have you found anything I can use?” Keryn asked.

Wyck shrugged. “Unfortunately, no. It doesn’t take very long to decode their files, but they saved and encoded everything. I mean everything! I’m not entirely sure, but this file looks like the recipe for grandmother’s short bread pudding. It’s these tedious files that are slowing me down.”

“Keep decoding,” Keryn urged. “Somewhere in there is something important. It’s just a matter of you finding it.”

“Don’t worry, ma’am. I’m on it.”

“Please don’t call me…”

Keryn was interrupted as the intercom sounded throughout the ship. “Keryn and Adam please report to the bridge immediately.”

“I’ve got to go, cutie,” Keryn said as she stood. She reached down and squeezed his arm. “I know you won’t let me down.”

She rushed through the halls until she reached the bridge. The guards on either side of the door stepped aside as she rushed in with Adam close on her heels.

“What is it?” Keryn asked breathlessly. She knew she wouldn’t have been called to the bridge unless it was important.

“We’re beginning our deceleration into the Falitan Galaxy,” Alcent explained. “We’ll reach the planet in less than fifteen minutes.”

Keryn moved over to the communications console and entered the code for the ship-wide intercom. Overhead, two tones beeped from the speaker system notifying her that the microphone was now active.

“Attention in the ship,” she called into the microphone on the console. “All personnel report to the weapons bays. This is not a drill. We expect contact with a Terran Destroyer in less than fifteen minutes.”

She took a deep breath before she continued. “I know many of you are scared right now. However, I need you to realize that the advantage here is ours. The Terrans still believe this ship is under their side’s control. We should be able to fire the first volley before they can react. If all goes well, they will never have a chance to fire back. All that hinges on you, though. Everyone report to the weapons bays and prepare to fire on my command.”

Keryn turned off the microphone and took her place next to Adam and Alcent. They watched the forward view as the Ballistae came into the galaxy, skirting behind the nearest planet. This approach seemed surprisingly familiar to Keryn, who had done the same thing when approaching Othus not so long ago. Now, though, she knew it was to block the Terran scanners for as long as possible before commencing the attack. As they neared the edge of the planet, Alcent turned toward the command console.

“This can’t be right,” he said as his fingers flew over the display.

“What’s wrong?” Adam asked, stepping over by his side and trying to peer over his shoulder.

“I’m not reading a Terran ship on the radar,” Alcent said, his concern creeping into his voice.

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Adam asked.

“Yes, because we won’t have to fight one. But it doesn’t make sense why there wouldn’t be one guarding such an important outpost.”

“Guys,” Keryn said, the words catching in her throat as her heart leapt. “I think I know why there isn’t a ship in orbit.”

They all turned toward the forward window as the Ballistae moved around the planet and got its first view of the galaxy. Directly before them, hanging dead in space, was a large black sun. Keryn clenched her fist so tightly that blood seeped from beneath her fingernails. To the left of the dark sun, Beracus floated in the unnatural darkness. Even from their distance, Keryn could see that the once vibrant swamp planet was covered in feet of white, powdery snow.

Keryn trudged through the waist deep snow, keeping her sight on the abandoned Terran outpost still half a mile away. Under foot, buried beneath the white powder, the once marshy ground had turned into frozen tundra. Around her, the crew who had accompanied her and Adam to the planet’s surface, broke through the thick drifts in search of any surviving plant life. Unfortunately, their results were all the same. Beracus was a dead world.

“They’re all withered,” one of the men yelled as Keryn leaned into the biting arctic wind. The man, barely visible through the blowing snow, held up a limp brown plant that he had torn from the ground. “Should I bring it with us?”

Keryn scowled and continued pushing forward. Tears welled in her eyes as she stared intently at the ghost of a building in the distance. She wanted to believe that the tears were from the driving snow which blew constantly into her face, stinging her skin and turning her cheeks bright red, a stark contract to her blue and purple tattoos. But she knew that a large part of the tears was brought on by the realization that her mission had been for nothing. Good soldiers had died on Pteraxis while she hunted Cardax for nothing more than this planet’s name. Penchant and