Justin Kemppainen - The Legend of Ivan

My friend opened and shut his mouth several times. Finally, he shook his head and gave a bow. “I live only to serve, good master.”

I laughed. “I’d be nothing without my favorite vassal.”

He clasped his hands together. “You must get going, then, right away.”

Nodding, I stood and donned my cloak.

“How do you intend to find the colony? Clearly even the GSA was unable to locate it.”

“I might have to break my promise to the Penitent Children of Ivan and go back.” I put on my hat. “Or I suppose I can contact Grey and see if he’s in a more amiable mood. Or I can scour the asteroid field for a few weeks.” I gave a wry smile. “I’ll find it eventually.”

Marqyni chuckled. “Good luck, my friend. Come back and let me know how it turns out.”

We shook hands, and I departed the library.

Through the station and into Minerva once more, I strapped in and ran preflight. As I warmed up the console, a message popped into my system. It was labeled, “TG.”

Shaking my head, I played the message.

The aged voice of Silas/Traverian Grey played through the speakers of my vessel as I continued to prepare for departure:

“Well, it was quite a visit we had there, Archivist. By this time, I’m sure you’ve figured me out and further figured out about the area where you can find my good little deity .” There were hints of a snide tone. “Unless of course you’re not as smart as I thought you were. Either way, I sent a message off, warning Ivan that folks like you would be coming his way very soon. Oh, I’m sure he’ll be surprised to hear from me after so long, but that’s not important.”

“Since I’ve seen a few of the other types of people Ivan’s attracted, I want you to be in the lead. Attached are the coordinates and flexible flight path through the asteroid field. Fifteen years ago, if I had cared about anything but myself and you threatened it, I’d have blasted you to bits and scattered your remains across half the known universe. However, it’s up to him to decide how to deal with you. I admit I enjoyed our conversation, and I think there’s enough human left in you to do the right thing. Don’t disappoint me Archivist. I’d sure hate to ruin my retirement by having to hunt your ass down.”

The message ended, and I smirked. “This should save some time,” I murmured, pulling Minerva out of the stall and into the docking bay.

“Minerva, please hold your progress.” A tense voice from the control room came through my intercom.

“Is there a problem?” I asked.

“Yes. Open your channel to a wide-band.”

I did as he asked. There was a garbled noise of static for a moment, and I hovered only a few meters away from the exit of the station. All in and outbound traffic appeared to have stopped.

“…Siiiiiiiiiiiid. Siddy-boy. Why don’t you come out and plaaaaay?”

The voice coming through my intercom was familiar, and its presence here in unknown fashion sent an icy chill through my veins. Through the narrow docking bay entrance, I could see stars outside but no other vessels save a few hovering transports stopped and waiting.

I cut out the continued taunting and transmitted to the control center. “Where is Cain? Is he outside? What vessel is he in?”

A fearful voice came back. “Gunship. Frye-class with six unmanned drone fighters. Oh dear God.”

I felt and heard nothing, but through my screens I saw the station shudder under an impact. I switched the channel back to Cain’s transmission.

“You see, you love this place ever so much.” I had the distinct impression he was grinning, “so I’ll just go ahead and light it up, piece by piece, until you surrender and fly your little self on out here.”

I didn’t respond.

“Siiiiiid,” he continued in his sing-song tone. “I know you can hear me. At least say something, or I’ll see if I can dig out your fat bastard friend’s library with a few more missiles. Now, is it near to the outer hull or toward the middle? I can’t quite remember, so I suppose I’ll just have to keep smashing until I find it. Very well, let’s try—”

“Hello, Cain,” I spoke through clenched teeth. I remembered all too keenly what Marqyni said not half an hour ago about me being the death of him. I was not eager for his statement to be prophecy.

“Sid! Oh, my boy; it’s good to hear your voice. I missed you so much when you slipped away on that station. Oh goodness gracious, I was worried about you when you vanished; I had to tear the whole station apart looking!”

I drew in a sharp breath, hoping Cain didn’t cause too much damage and wondering if Lorric went unscathed.

“The fight in the bar… Ooh, you missed a good time, you did. I always love it when the pathetic monkeys try to pretend they’re not worthless.”

My mind desperately searched for some kind of solution to the problem. Minerva’s weapons were present as not much more than a formality, only mild damage potential to other vessels, especially those of a larger size. Dei Lucrii had a defense grid, but Cain could tie it up, harassing with his drones while bombarding the station. Minerva was fast, likely fast enough to escape, but Cain knew it.

“Athena wants her revenge, Sid, but if you run, Mercury will have his way with your favorite hidey-hole.” Laughter issued from the comm. “Choose the destroyer and the destroyed, Sid.”

Grimacing, I didn’t reply.

“What a terrible choice you have! Even an Archivist still has feelings for other people, places, does he not?” Mock pity filled Cain’s voice. “Or is there nothing left to us but research, information, and more data?”

I contemplated the decision. It was true; I harbored some level of attachment to Dei Lucrii XVII. But… I was on the investigation of my life. Nothing, before or after my alteration procedure, none of the many successful conquests of data in my existence compared to the search of Ivan.

Even without such heavy purpose on my path, self-preservation was a close-second to information. Since nothing could be gained from staying except my demise, and feeding Cain with everything I knew was not something I could accept, I had to leave. I felt Dana’s ghost trickle through my thoughts again, and even she seemed to agree.

The station shuddered again. “I’m beginning to think you’re rude, Sid.” Cain’s tone rang with malevolence. “I can always bring the station down around your ears and recover your corpse later. It won’t be as fun to scoop out your cold and squishy brain-matter than if you were still partly conscious, but I do have a job to do.” Another shudder. “Business before pleasure.”

A terrified voice cut in from the station. “Do as he asks! Good God, man, you can’t just let us all die in here!”

My decision was already made, and in no way could I have ever justified the self-sacrifice. “I’m sorry, Marqyni,” I whispered, preparing to engage full thrust.

Both the station and Minerva shuddered with a wave of displaced force. Preoccupied, I thought Cain had fired something with more punch. In the ensuing moment of silence, I didn’t even consider it as the product of a large vessel arriving.

My ignorance was short-lived as a broadband override played through the intercom, cutting out all other communication. “This is Captain Josef Onnels of the GCG vessel Cassander. All hostile activities in this region will cease immediately, and all participants will power down weapon systems and prepare to be boarded. System travel is now considered restricted. Archivist Sid of the vessel Minerva is being hereby placed under arrest for the possession of materials sensitive to Galactic Central Government security. Any attempt to deviate from specific instructions will result in immediate hostile action.”