EVE®: Templar One (57 page)

It was Blake.
He put his hands in front of his face and saw four of them.

“We can’t get you back to the
Morse,
and they’re not saying where they’re taking you!”

“Who?”

“Ishukone Watch!
Jonas, a mega-corporation is hauling you back into Caldari space!
You’re a wanted felon there!”

Mack came into view.

“Be strong,” he said.
“This over soon.”

“It is?”
Jonas asked.
“Who’s coming to get us?”

“Federation,” Mack said.
“Ishukone Watch get us off planet.”

“Mack, this is Blake.
How could Mordu agree to this?
We don’t know if we can trust—”

“No choice,” he growled.
“Miracle to leave Pike’s Landing at all.”

Jonas stared at his friend, who in the low lighting looked like a monster.

But Mack was
his
monster.

“Stand up,” he said, heaving him up.
“You were right.”

Jonas saw the towering MTAC with Vince sitting in its cockpit.

“Well, I’ll be damned.…” he said, stumbling toward it as recognition spread across Vince’s face.

Sharp explosions rumbled in the background; the sound of AA rockets filled the air.

Tears were streaming down Gable’s face.

“She told me you insisted on coming here,” Vince said.
“Thank you.”

“Clearing, just past that building,” Mack said, coughing a little.
Jonas thought he saw droplets of blood spray from his mouth.
He was pointing to a spot two hundred meters from where they were standing.

“… Pickup is there.
MTAC provide cover until Feds assist.”

The sound of grinding treads was getting close.

“Legion team, this is Eagle One,” an unfamiliar voice said.
“Enemy units are closing on your position and we’re sixty seconds away.
Break for the LZ right now!
Get out of there or you’ll be overrun!”

“Stay close to the buildings,” Vince said as the cockpit hatch began to close.
“I’ll draw their fire as best I can.”

Jonas felt numb; his entire head was throbbing in pain.
He was watching himself from the back of his mind, wondering if this was how redemption was supposed to feel.

“Miles, Blake,” Mack said, “get
Morse
away from Pike’s Landing.”

“Not until we know where they’re going—”

“
Go
!”
he shouted, hauling Gable up onto his shoulder.
She shrieked in pain as the Guardian took a step backward and swiveled its torso toward the north, where the bulk of trouble was coming for them.
“We be okay.
Save the ship.”

“Mack, listen, man,” Jonas said, feeling very woozy.
“I’m a little out of sorts here … don’t mean to be an anchor.…”

The mercenary grabbed a nozzle syringe from Jonas’s own flak jacket and slammed it into his neck.

“Wha—
ffffuck!
” Jonas shrieked, his eyes bulging out of his sockets.
“What the fuck … was that?”

The Guardian was marching to the middle of the street; several small-caliber beams struck it in the leg.
The machine answered with an air-scorching blast of its own.

“Listen!”
Mack said.
“You run fast as you can!
Stay on my back!
Yes?”

“Hell, yeah,” Jonas said.
“I got this.”

“Then go!
Run for life!”

Jonas watched himself break into the fastest sprint he could ever remember himself attempting.
For every three steps he took, the MTAC in front of him took one.

They were being shot at.
The beams left reflections on the ground as they carved through the night; every time the Guardian’s cannon fired, the air behind its weapons and torso roiled in expended heat.

It was strange that he could hear himself breathe, but not Gable as she screamed, bouncing over Mack’s shoulder as he ran his peculiar skip-stride for dear life.
Nor could he hear the rumble of several tons of machine as it crushed the ground with every step; nor the lines of exploding rock and metal as fighters overhead strafed armored targets to their east.…

.… Nor the sound of a tank cannon’s blast take an arm off the Guardian as it marched painfully slow in reverse to protect its tiring companions.

Jonas’s lungs began to burn; his legs filled with acid.
The world was a strobe of hellish images, and time ceased to matter.
People were trying to kill him, and that seemed unfair.
Vince was his responsibility; he was part of his crew; and this is what good men did for those in their care.

There is no price too high to pay for honor, and this is what he hoped others would do for him.

A violent burst of energy knocked the three of them over.

He tasted a mouthful of dirt.

Looking up, he saw the bluish-white jets of a gunship land just fifty meters away.

The Guardian was still facing away from it, guns blazing despite the fact that it was on fire.
The cockpit opened, and Vince jumped down as the machine walked itself into the withering barrage of beam fire.

As it collapsed and exploded, a ramp began to lower on the gunship; masked men emerged with rifles as a pair of turrets spit out streams of plasma into the night.

Mack had made it.
He set Gable down inside.

Jonas smiled, thankful that his crew was safe, and let his head fall to the dirt.

But he was yanked upright.
He was being carried through hell toward the open ramp.

His legs were no longer working.
Turning his head he could see Vince.
My God, what did they do to you?
he wondered.
The man barely looked like his old self, with flaps of crimson skin hanging from a face that was ghastly pale and crossed with bluish veins.
Turning the other way, he saw Mack.
They were both lifting him, an arm over each one’s shoulder, and were so close to the ramp’s edge, when both men dropped him.

Jonas struck the ground again.

Mack, also prone, was staring at him from just inches away.
Blood was flowing out of his nose; his deranged smile remained, but his eyes were filled with sadness.

His mouth moved to say something and then stopped.

The last words Jonas heard belonged to Gable.

“God in heaven,
please,
” she begged.
“I can’t save them all.…”

EPILOGUE

METROPOLIS REGION—GEDUR CONSTELLATION

THE ILLUIN SYSTEM—PLANET III: KHATAJAN

REPUBLIC PARLIAMENT BUREAU STATION

“Let me make sure I understand this,” Sanmatar Shakor said.
“You bombard one of our worlds, invade one of our colonies, leave most of your weapons behind, and you expect me to keep all this … quiet?”

Jacus looked at his counterpart impassively.

“Yes.”

“Just pretend it never happened, and the Federation prisoners I’m holding are just ghosts that no one will miss?”
Shakor said.

“I think we can reach an agreement to secure their release quietly as well,” Jacus said.

Shakor, his eyes clouded over in blindness, exhaled forcefully.
“Do you feel that you’re negotiating for something here?”
he said.

Jacus smiled.
“Have you given any thought as to why I would authorize these actions?”
he asked.

“Short of you providing the explanation I’m entitled to, I’m willing to write it off as insanity,” Shakor said.
“But if you think you can bargain with the truth, you’re gravely mistaken.”

“In the last century, the Federation has funded the Republic with staggering sums of money,” Jacus said.
“I believe I’m entitled to some knowledge of how you’ve spent it.”

“Is that so?”
Sanmatar Shakor said, his knuckles whitening around the grip of his khumaak.
Jacus could see his reflection in the ceremonial weapon’s steel spikes.

“In exchange for that transparency,
and
the unconditional release of any Federation or Ishukone Watch prisoners, I offer you, ‘the truth,’” he said.

“You can read about the invasion in this evening’s SCOPE broadcast,” Sanmatar Shakor said, pulling himself off the seat.
“Thank you, Roden, that will be all.”

Jacus didn’t move.

“The Skymother Project is in peril,” he said.
“As is your new government.”

Shakor froze.

“The latter I very much want to succeed,” Jacus said.
“But Skymother—not unless I know more about it.”

“You’re playing a dangerous game now, Roden.”

“As are you, Sanmatar,” Jacus said.
“You of all people understand there are times when urgency compels action, not discourse.
The truth is that I invaded your nation to save it.
The action is past, so now, if you’re willing, there can be discourse.”

“You sound like an Amarrian now,” Sanmatar Shakor growled.
“Did you get what you wanted from Pike’s Landing?”

“Almost,” Jacus said.

HEIMATAR REGION—HED CONSTELLATION

AMAMAKE SYSTEM—PLANET II: PIKE’S LANDING

THIRTY KILOMETERS SOUTHEAST OF CORE FREEDOM COLONY—BADLANDS GRID

SOVEREIGNTY OF THE MINMATAR REPUBLIC

Minmatar Republic soldiers stood about in pairs, glaring at the Federation Navy salvage drones toiling under the Amamake sun.
The wreckage was mostly blackened, twisted metal; in most cases it was difficult to determine where the Amarr gunship stopped and the unidentified one began.

But the drones were meticulous, collecting even microscopic bits of debris.
A construction barge already filled with evidence was slowly making its way toward an idling Pegasus dropship, which would eventually transport the material to a warehouse owned by Roden Shipyards.

The remnants of the downed Federation Blackjack, a little over a hundred meters away, remained untouched.
Bodies of the slain 626 Recon commandos were discovered near a dry riverbed less than two kilometers from the crash site.
The Kruk-class gunship that had brought them to Pike’s Landing was found intact, located near the bodies in an erosional cave.
In some spots, the craft’s edges had less than a meter’s clearance with the cave walls.
The margin of error for a pilot to fly it inside was nearly zero.

Eagle One, now dressed in nondescript civilian clothes and accompanied by two military contractors dispatched by the President himself, found what he was looking for at the base of a rock ledge.

“That’s it,” Eagle One said, clearing some silt off the device.
“She dropped it as they fell to the bottom.”

“You say it discharged?”
one of the contractors asked, as their Republic soldier escorts leaned in for a closer look.

“Yeah, I think so,” he said.
“I was standing at the jump position when we got hit.
As we spun around, I thought I saw something.”

“Did you hear anything?”

Eagle One shook his head.

“Too much shouting going on,” he said.

The other contractor put his case on the ground and began excavating around the weapon, making sure he’d found the edges before picking it up very carefully and setting it inside.
As the lid hissed shut, lights on the outside of the container suggested that something dangerous was inside.

“Any chance you could go up there and take a look around?”
the contractor asked.
“You know, look for shell casings, maybe a blast mark.…”

It was a steep rock face, but only a ten-meter climb or so.

“Give me a few minutes,” Eagle One said, rolling up his sleeves.

Taking a firm grip of a small ledge overhead, he pulled himself up and began working his way to the top.

Along the way, the contractor called out.

“You doing alright?”

“I’m fine,” Eagle One said, gaining purchase in another crevice with his boot.
“But this is one hell of a distance to fall.”

Reaching the top, he pulled himself over and brushed himself off.
Hearing reports about the aggressiveness of some local predators in the ecosystem, he checked his sidearm once before waving at the contractors and guards, then turned around.

He blinked several times.

“You guys have to come up here,” he called out over his shoulder.

“Why?”
the contractor yelled back up.
“You found something?”

“Just get up here,” Eagle One said.
“You have to see this.”

THE FORGE REGION—ONIRVURA CONSTELLATION

THE POINEN SYSTEM—PLANET IV, MOON 26

INTERNAL SECURITY ASSEMBLY STATION

SOVEREIGNTY OF THE CALDARI STATE

“So it’s Khanid technology, eh,” Tibus asked.
“Does it work?”

“If you’re not concerned about her well-being, then yes,” the scientist said.
His wrists were exposed, prominently displaying the tattoo of the Templis Dragonaurs.
“The Amarr use it to ‘Reclaim’ their inmates.
But in the right hands, it can be used to walk into any part of her mind to extract information, usually at the expense of leaving the victim ruined.”

Haatakan, dressed in nothing but undergarments, sat with her arms bound behind her, her head listed to one side, with eyes unfocused and a blank expression on her face.

She hadn’t uttered a single word in days.

Heth glared at her for a few moments.

“So you’re a masochist now?”
he asked.
“You know I’m going to find out everything anyway, right?”

Her eyes remained blank as drops of urine began falling from the chair.

“Fine,” the dictator said.
“The hard way it is.”

He looked at the scientist.

“She’s all yours,” he said.
“Keep me posted.”

“Of course,” the scientist said, kneeling in front of her.

“Hello, Haatakan,” he said.
“My name is Doctor Zaan, and I’m going to be your new mind warden.”

He ran his fingers through her hair, grabbing a handful.

“I’m rather looking forward to it,” he said with a smile.
“Aren’t you?”

GEMINATE REGION—F-ZNNG CONSTELLATION

SYSTEM UBX-CC—THE MJOLNIR NEBULA

INSORUM PRODUCTION FACTORY

“I’m impressed by what you’ve built here,” Mordu said.
“If not somewhat unsettled.”

Lurking in the shadows, drones were following him everywhere he went, always within striking distance.

And those were just the ones he could see.

“First the Broker, now Heth,” Mens said.
“I trust machines more than people now.”

“You don’t really mean that,” Mordu asked.
“Do you?”

Mens flashed a brief smile.

“You can come here whenever you like,” he continued, leading Mordu down a hallway.
“The pickup location is random, never the same twice, and you must always come alone.”

Mordu followed as doors opened in front of the Ishukone CEO.
There were windows that showed the space outside, but all he could see was swirling dust.

“A word of caution, though,” Mens added, stopping before the final door and turning to face him.
“If the drone suspects that it’s being followed, one of two things can happen: It will either stop wherever it is in space and eject you from the ship, or it will lead you and whomever is following into … something unpleasant.”

Mordu looked into Reppola’s eyes and, for a brief instant, recognized a much younger and tormented version of himself.

“You saved my son’s life,” he said.
“We are with you!”

Mens looked away.

“Thank you,” he said.
“We’ll find out soon enough if you really are.”

DOMAIN REGION—THRONE WORLDS CONSTELLATION

THE AMARR SYSTEM—PLANET ORIS

EMPEROR FAMILY ACADEMY STATION

SOVEREIGNTY OF THE AMARR EMPIRE

With perfect recollection, Grand Admiral Kezti Sundara calmly explained all of the events leading to his decision to bombard Pike’s Landing.

Despite the indisputable testimony, Empress Jamyl could not accept that the order had been her own.

“I can’t remember any of it,” she fumed.
“Nothing.”

“You are the divine embodiment of the eternal struggle between good and evil,” Grand Admiral Sundara said.
“The Demon has many tricks, but you will find a way to persevere.”

She pulled her wavy auburn hair back in frustration.

“And after all this, we lost the colony anyway?”

“I ordered the retreat when the Ishukone fleet arrived,” Admiral Sundara said.
“The Caldari have been an ally, yet they destroyed several of our ships.
I was unprepared for that and decided it would be unwise to retaliate without fully understanding the circumstances.”

“I received a personal apology from Tibus Heth, who claimed Ishukone Watch acted alone,” Empress Jamyl said.
“You would have done him a great service by pounding that fleet into dust.
Given the circumstances, there was no way for you to know that.
But the next time anyone attacks our forces, Grand Admiral, don’t think.
Just react in kind.”

“Your Majesty,” he said, bowing his head.

“Send Lord Victor in,” she ordered.

The chamber doors were pulled apart by palace guards, and Lord Victor Eliade strode inside.
Ignoring the Admiral, he knelt before the Empress, then stood.

“Do we know the fate of Templar One yet?”
she asked.

“No, my lady,” Lord Victor said.
“We have not found a body, and his broadcast array stopped transmitting during the Ishukone withdrawal from Pike’s Landing.”

“What of his imprint?”
she asked.
“Is it still in storage?”

“Yes,” Lord Victor said.
“As with the remaining Templars as well.”

Empress Jamyl took a deep breath.

“He must be found, Victor,” she said.
“Do whatever is necessary.”

“As you wish,” he said.
“It shall be done.”

Alternating glances between both men, she straightened her posture.

“I need both of you,” she said.
“Pike’s Landing is my fault.
But you must move past it.”

“The blame is not yours,” Grand Admiral Sundara said, “but with the struggle inside you.”

The Empress began to pace.

“You can’t imagine what this is like,” she said.
“Regardless, it’s my burden, and I must carry it better.”

“Marcus Jror is dead,” Lord Victor said.
“Whom do you wish to continue his work?”