Freedom, Part Two

The story of Exile Sun continues! In the game, humanity’s first interstellar fleet has spent two hundreds years cut off from contact with Earth, stranded around a distant star. “Freedom, Part One” introduced you to the crew of the colony ship Freedom on their journey to the Novus system. When we last saw them, they were faced with betrayal and mortal danger. Now let’s see what happens!

Freedom, Part Two

Six Months Later

Cold.

Liana shivered and rubbed her arms through the sleeves of her uniform. They were always cold now. With usable power growing scarcer by the day, they couldn’t afford to waste it on luxuries like atmospheric conditioning. She stared through the handful of wallscreens that still functioned, eyeing the unfamiliar stars. Each day, it felt as if the icy blackness crept farther inside the walls.

“Sir?” Grayson said to her.

Her stomach grumbled. She pressed a hand against it to quell the nausea hanging at the edge of awareness. The half-rations weren’t helping, either, but what could they do? Freedom’s companion fleet hadn’t included any hydroponic vessels.

“Sir?”

Liana shook the hazy thoughts away and focused on the present. Lieutenant Grayson looked back at her with hollow, sunken eyes. “We need him to make a decision now, sir.”

Right. More good news. Wearily, she nodded and dragged herself up from the command chair. More sacrifices had to be made, and like always, they couldn’t wait. She forced her feet to walk toward the Commander’s office adjoining the bridge. A flash of anger raced through her. Six months they had been cut off from the fleet! Six months since the Concord’s little stunt had destroyed half their companion ships, and blown them so far off course that they couldn’t chart their way back. Six months alone, traveling aimlessly, with the rest of their fleet slowly dying. And now it was going to die a little more.

PING

Liana stopped. Was that…?

PING

No, it couldn’t be.

PING PING PING

She whipped toward Grayson’s pilot station to see him pointing at his console like he’d just seen a ghost. “…c-contact, sir! We’ve got a contact on SPHERE!”

————————

The Commander’s office door slid open with a quiet whirring sound. Liana hurried into the darkened chamber with a new spring in her step, hunger and cold forgotten. The lights were off, leaving illumination to the stars outside and a computer’s glowing display.

“Sir!” she exclaimed.

“Do you ever wonder what his last thought was, Colonel Ganti?” Des Charognards said faintly from the half-shadow. He stood at the window, shoulders hunched, eyes dark. “Commander Marcus. Do you think he realized he was going to die? That he’d doomed himself, too?”

Liana stopped short, taken aback. The Concord seemed to take up half the Commander’s thoughts these days. During the past months, his humor and easy charm had eroded away, replaced by bitterness and smoldering resentment. It hovered around him now, like a dark cloud.

“Commander, we have -”

“I know, Colonel,” he interrupted, voice loaded with regret. “I’ve decided. Tell the crew to start moving passengers and sealing off non-essential decks.”

She stifled a sigh. Oh right, the sacrifices. Across the fleet, air processing units had been failing for weeks, and with no spare parts they had been forced to cannibalize their own equipment to keep them running. Now even that option was gone, which meant they’d have to start shutting down parts of the ship to keep the rest of it alive. Like cutting off an arm to save the body from gangrene. In the excitement, she’d forgotten all about their most recent problem. Hopefully, now there was a solution.

“No, sir,” she said. “We found someone! Three large settler ships. Contact has been established, and they want to rendezvous in ninety minutes.” She moved closer to the Commander. “They’re fully outfitted, sir. Once we rescue them, they may have supplies that we need. Shall I give the order to meet them?”

Des Charognards’ head slowly turned toward her, eyes burning like coals. “Which fleet are they from?”

——————————-

A heavy silence hung over the six passengers of the small personnel shuttle. Liana examined them each in turn, noting the sunken cheeks and hollow expressions that marked each of them as belonging to Freedom. It seemed to her that this recent development should have been a happy one. Yet, upon hearing of the newly-discovered ships, the Commander’s mood had only sharpened into one of dark intensity. The cloud he carried had grown bigger and spread over the crew.

Not that she was completely at ease, either. After all, none of them had expected to find survivors from the Concord’s fleet. But they aren’t Marcus, she kept telling herself. They’re civilians, alone, probably starving and scared half to death.

“One minute to touchdown, sirs,” the pilot called back to them. The three blocky, building-sized ships lumbered into view. In the center, the Amelia’s forward bay doors opened to allow them entry.

“Do you ever wonder why they never searched for us?” Des Charognards said from out of nowhere.

Several times before, he’d asked this. Each time, her answer had been the same. “I like to think they did look but couldn’t find us, sir.”

“Oh, yes, I’m sure they searched for several hours,” he replied with a sarcastic edge. “And now, let me ask you – upon whom does our survival depend?”

This one was new. She fumbled around for an answer that felt right. “Um…well, sir, I suppose it depends on us now.”

“Yes,” the Commander said, as if she’d answered the most important question. “That’s it, Colonel.” He fixed her with an intense stare. “From here on, whatever happens, don’t forget that. It’s up to us.”

She met his stare with a puzzled expression, but nodded acceptance to appease him. What does that mean? Des Charognards’ choice for an escort suddenly seemed less random. She eyed the four crew members sitting across from them. Each of their uniforms had a matching red slash across the chest, marking their assignment on the ship. What is he planning?

Liana brushed her forearms, confirming that the small objects she’d strapped on under her sleeves were still there. She still questioned why she’d put them on in the first place. This wasn’t that kind of boarding party.

When they landed, the settler ship’s portly, balding captain was waiting for them outside the hatch. As they emerged into the spacious cargo hold, he ambled forward with a wide grin and a warm hand. “Welcome aboard!” he said, grasping the Commander’s hand and pumping it with exuberance. “It’s a real pleasure to see another friendly face out here.” He turned to Liana and the four escorts. “And welcome to you, too!”

She nodded distractedly, entranced by the feeling that surrounded her. Warmth. After months of bone-deep cold, stepping onto the deck felt like being hugged from everywhere at once. She breathed deeply and relaxed inside.

“Captain Hart,” Des Charognards returned with a nod, slipping his hand from the cheerful man’s grasp. “I’d like to see your crew and equipment manifests.”

“Sure thing, come on with me.” Oblivious to the chilly greeting, the captain beckoned to them and turned toward a nearby exit. “We’ll stop by the bridge, then get some hot food in your bellies.”

Liana had never been on a settler ship before. Aside from command crew and operational technicians, the vessel was filled with civilian families. Husbands, wives, children – normal people going about normal lives as they hurtled toward a new home. So different from the strict military atmosphere she had lived in most of her life.

Something else struck her as they made their way to the bridge. Of all the families roaming to and fro, of all the children playing, all the busy crew scurrying to maintain the ship, not one of them looked hungry or bleak. If anything, they looked….happy. Content. Her mouth watered as they passed near what must have been the kitchen. It smelled like garlic and tomato soup.

“And here we are, home sweet home,” Captain Hart chirped.

They passed through a hatch and onto the diminutive bridge. Liana marveled at the difference. At maybe forty feet across, it only boasted eight crew on duty, and the computer equipment was serviceable but far from cutting edge.

Hart gestured to a console at their left. “Edwin, call up the crew and cargo details for the Commander, would ya?”

“Sure thing, boss,” a skinny, mop-topped technician replied. His fingers flew across the keyboard, and a moment later he scooted away and gestured at the screen with a flourish. “All yours, Commander.”

Without a word, Des Charognards bent to examine the lists. Liana craned her neck to look over his shoulder, and her eyes widened. These three family ships had enough food, equipment, and trained crew to sustain Freedom, with resources to spare! She felt a spike of resentment flash through her. How did they get all this? Did Marcus outfit his fleet differently than the others? No wonder they’re all warm and fat.

“It sure is a wild stroke of chance running into you folks,” Captain Hart prattled on. “Thought we’d be alone on this leg of the trip. You know, until we meet up with the others.”

Liana’s head snapped in Hart’s direction. She felt as though lightning had struck her. At her side, the Commander visibly stiffened and sucked in a sharp breath of air. “What do you mean, others?” she said.

He looked back at her, confused. “The others. You know, the other survivors. The ones who…” he paused, and realization crossed his face. “Oh, you thought it was just us?”

Des Charognards fixed the captain with a piercing eye. “What are you saying, Hart? Who else is there?”

Hart approached the console they had been studying and keyed in a command. A new list scrolled across the screen – two dozen ship names, with basic descriptions of ship type, crew and cargo. “Whatever that blast wave was, it took out the Concord and most of the companion ships. A few of us, though, got pushed out here. We were scattered, but we managed to modify our communications arrays to find each other.” He called up a star chart, and the ship names became pinpoints of light scattered over an expanse of space. “Working together, we managed to extrapolate where everyone is, and plot a new course to Novus.”

A thrill exploded through Liana. “You know where Novus is?!” The Commander remained still and silent.

Hart nodded with a wide smile. “Yes, ma’am, we do.” He pointed to the lowest pinpoint of light on the star chart. “See, that’s us. We’re the farthest from our destination. The others are each a little bit closer, but you can see that we’ve all been scattered along a similar arc. So we’ve established rendezvous points, and as we travel toward Novus, we’ll meet up with the other survivors bit-by-bit. By the time we find home, everyone will have been reunited in our own little fleet.” His smile grew wider. “Except, now that you’re here, I guess it won’t be so little anymore!”

“How far away are we?” the Commander demanded.

The captain’s face fell slightly. “That’s the one tough part. See, the wave was stronger than we thought at first. The journey’s going to take longer than it originally would have. We thought it would take generations longer, but now with your Slingshot drive we can drastically reduce it. Best guess….” He hesitated.

“How long, Captain?” Des Charognards snapped.

“….another fifteen years, sir.” Hart put on a brave expression. “But, with everyone to support each other, we can do it!”

Liana felt as if she had been slapped. Fifteen years? They were another fifteen bloody years away?! The colonies would be long established by then! She felt the overwhelming urge to throttle the good captain.

The Commander’s fists clenched until his knuckles cracked. The air seemed to thicken around him, and Captain Hart drew back with trepidation. Liana took deep breaths, struggling to keep her calm. Marcus. Marcus and his fleet did this to us.

With grim determination in his eyes, Des Charognards turned to their four escorts – with the red-slashed uniforms of security officers – and nodded to the leader. The officers returned crisp salutes, and each withdrew a defender capsule from a small sheath at their hip. Each resembled a short, thick baton made of black composite material.

Captain Hart took another step back. “Commander, what’s going on?”

The Commander’s voice became a growl. “This vessel, and all others once belonging to your fleet, are now under the direct authority of the colony ship Freedom. Your crew and resources are hereby commandeered, and will be transferred immediately to vacant positions in our fleet.”

Hart gaped at them, his eyes nearly popping out. The bridge crew looked stricken and shocked. “But, you can’t do that! You have no authority to -”

“While you’ve been wallowing in luxury, my people have spent six months frozen and starving!” Des Charognards barked. “Sacrificed by one commander, abandoned by the rest, yet still we’ve beaten the death sentence they laid on us. And now we’re our own fleet. Now we’re our own authority.”

“I’ll not allow you to -”

“Oh, but you will allow it,” the Commander stated. He nodded again at the security leader. The black batons popped open, twisting and transforming into sleek, high-powered assault rifles. “Your people will join us. Your resources will sustain us. Your ships will be broken down to repair and augment our fleet. And when we arrive at Novus, they will see that we are stronger without them.”

Horror painted Captain Hart’s face, then anger. Keeping his eyes on them, he rushed to the comm station and picked up the earpiece. “To Magellan and Yeager, we’re under assault!” he shouted. “Run -”

“They’re already boarded!” Des Charognards spat. “Your ships were ours before we ever spoke.”

Hart flung down the earpiece and jabbed a finger toward them. “It wasn’t just you, you know. We were all left behind! But I will not allow this to stand, and you will not destroy what’s left of Commander Marcus’ fleet!”

At the mention of Marcus’ name, Des Charognards’ face reddened and contorted in sudden, unbridled rage. Stalking forward, he drew a smaller defender capsule from his pocket. The device sprang open and shaped into a pistol, which the Commander put to Hart’s forehead. “No, you were left behind. We were betrayed.”

With a snarl, he pulled the trigger.

Captain Hart’s body dropped to the deck like a bag of stones. Shouting and chaos broke out as the bridge crew rushed to defend their fallen captain. The security officers charged forward, shoving their rifles into faces and forcing the furious crew against the walls.

From the corner of her eye, Liana spotted movement. Standing behind them, forgotten, weak-looking Edwin slipped his hand into a small compartment and drew out a long, razor-edged dagger. With surprising speed, he charged toward the Commander’s back.

Time seemed to slow, and Liana watched the scene play out as thoughts raced through her mind. The Commander had been right about so many things – more than she had given him credit for. They had been betrayed and abandoned by their own people, and now this civilian crew wanted to live fat while they struggled and starved? Every day’s worth of suffering, every shred of the anger and resentment she had been pushing away for six months came crashing down, and she felt her heart turn to ice. They were their own people now, and one day their betrayers would know it. One day, they would fear them.

Slipping between Edwin and Des Charognards, Liana flicked her wrists. From beneath the sleeves of her uniform, two classic Earth-model pistols snapped into the palms of her hands. Training them on Edwin’s kneecaps, she pulled both triggers.

He went down screaming.

The Commander whirled around, eyes wide at his near demise. Clutching his knees and writhing in agony, Edwin glared up and spat in Liana’s direction. She wrapped herself in cold fury. Standing directly above him, she aimed between his eyes and pulled the trigger.

The bridge fell silent. Turning, she locked eyes with Des Charognards. He gazed down at her and nodded. “You remembered. Who does our survival depend on?”

She drew herself to full height. “On us. No one else.”

The Commander moved back to the computer display and pointed at the star chart. “We have a rendezvous to make, Colonel Ganti. Have a look.”

Liana examined the screen and understood his meaning. They would follow the Amelia’s plan to meet with the remnants of the Concord’s fleet, and soon those resources would be theirs.

“You’ve proven yourself capable, Liana. And loyal.” Des Charognards favored her with a look of pride and satisfaction. “How would you like to arrive at Novus with your own battleship?”

On the screen, she spotted it. At the fourth rendezvous point, they would intercept the Dauntless, a formidable vessel of war. A cold smile crossed her lips. “Commander Ganti. I like the sound of that.”

We hope you enjoyed this glimpse into the history of Exile Sun! You’ve now witnessed the birth of one of the six factions vying for dominance. The game’s events begin about two hundred years after this point. More stories are currently in development, and they will feature events related to the other five factions. Want to read them? You’ll have to buy the game! Every story will be included in the Commander’s Handbook. Watch for Exile Sun to hit shelves this summer!