CassaStorm (36 page)

“The probe,” Byron murmured.

“My people used it on the Cassans first,” the man said.

Byron caught his breath. The Tgrens were at war with the Cassans?

“We destroyed Cassa, making it inhospitable for generations to come. Our enemies retaliated and lodged a full-scale attack. In desperation, our government sent the weapon to destroy Vindi next.”

Byron shot Piten a wary glance. The man met his gaze with an equally stunned expression. The Cassans and Vindicarn had once been allies.

“Those of us who created the weapon were horrified, but there was nothing we could do. One by one, our enemy’s worlds were destroyed.

“And then the unthinkable happened. We turned on our allies. We wiped out the Narcon and Arellens before the Torbeth and Fesell even knew what was happening. Our remaining allies turned on us. This research facility was emptied and set to self-destruct, lest our enemies learn the secrets of the weapon. Before evacuations were completed though, the Fesell attacked. A handful of us inside the facility survived, but all of the ships trying to flee were destroyed.”

Byron gripped the edge of the display even tighter. The Tgrens killed off seven of the races? Eight counting the Rogue, who must’ve sided with the Cassans and Vindicarn.

“Desperate to stop the slaughter, we worked here in secret to disable the probe. By the time we gained control, my people had wiped out the other ten races.”

The mood on the bridge dropped with a resounding thud. Byron touched his mate’s mind. Athee’s viewing of the message was only seconds behind his own. Her horror surged as she digested the revelation her race was responsible for the destruction of the others.

“We made a decision,” said the man, straightening his jacket and standing taller. “A few survivors from the other races had arrived here, both friend and foe, and we welcomed them. Together we decided justice must prevail. We programmed the weapon to destroy our home world and all remaining ships.”

A collective gasp filled the room. Byron grasped at his chest in bewilderment. They annihilated their own people?

A shudder at his side distracted him, and Byron recalled his son’s presence. Pulling Bassan in front of him, he wrapped both arms around the boy. His son clung to his arms, his fingers pressing hard into Byron’s skin. Byron ignored the discomfort and stared at the display.

The man on the screen shook his head. “Then we sent out a beacon,” he said, “inviting any survivors to join us. Ships straggled in, bringing sets of two and three to our facility. What you see now is the remainder of those survivors. There were probably others, but they were beyond our reach.

“Aware that we had annihilated the races, we devised a plan to begin anew. Years of planning went into this venture. We reprogrammed the weapon, toning down its destructive powers and changing its directive. We carefully selected planets in a galaxy far from our own that would support each race. We harvested what we could from the remaining women and prepared the eggs. Only the Kintals declined inclusion, stating that since they were a blend of all ten races, their kind would appear again on its own. They did supply us with the ships that would carry the seeds of a new beginning, refitted for that purpose. At any rate, ten ships were all we could locate.”

“Those ships were built by the Rogue?” Piten gasped.

Byron scanned the faces of those gathered in the image. The Kintal were now obvious. They were indeed a blend, but one so complete it was impossible to identify the individual races.

“We designed several fail-safes,” the Tgren said, his voice strengthening. “We decided that while the other races should retain some knowledge and advance at an accelerated rate, our race should not. Our hope is that if the Tgrens do not advance as quickly, then the chances of us repeating our mistake will be far less. Of course, retarding the growth of our race carried risks. If the development did not proceed according to schedule, we decided to terminate rather than let our race continue crippled and incomplete.”

The development of the Tgren’s mental powers, thought Byron, the events of twenty years ago still fresh in his memory. The probe would’ve destroyed Tgren if not for Athee.

“Since the ships were a gift from the Kintals,” said the man, “a race who claimed no side in our war but experienced annihilation regardless, we engineered a special code that only they could access. They will represent peace. After all, their very existence depends upon it.”

That’s why Bassan received the code, Byron thought.

“And by unanimous decision, we decided if the races ever again engaged in war, the weapon would wreck havoc on their home worlds and scatter them to the wind. Our people destroyed everything because we could not come to terms. We do not want that for you. There is no future if you can’t coexist in peace.

“We know it won’t be easy.” The man smiled and glanced back at the others. Those closest to him responded in kind, and a wave of subtle laughter spread across the room.

“We haven’t always seen eye to eye,” he said, his gaze returning to the screen. “But we’ve somehow managed to work together for the past thirty-five years to make you a reality.

“And as I’m sure you’ve already discovered, the only way to control the weapon is through mutual agreement. No one race should control something that powerful.”

Bassan shifted in his arms. Byron pulled him closer.

“We hope you build a better world than we did,” the man said. He took a step back and joined the others. “We’re sorry we are too old to survive the trip to your new homes. That’s probably best. You don’t need us. The Kintals will help you rediscover your past and determine your future. They’ll remember how to access the information contained on the ten ships and guide you to peace.

“We know you’ll be all right.”

The man’s final words pierced Byron’s heart. Uttered by another man over forty years ago, it signified the end of one chapter and the beginning of another.

The screen faded to black. The room fell into silence, everyone too stunned to speak. Byron stared at the blank screen, his mind fighting to absorb what he’d just witnessed. There wasn’t a master alien race, seeding planets as some kind of experiment. Those aliens were the eleven races, desperate for a second chance.

Byron…
Athee thought, her mental voice but a whisper.

I know,
he thought, shaking his head to clear his mind.

The eleventh race?
she thought.

Mevine always said the alien language possessed elements of all the races. Now we know that’s because the ships were built by Rogue, who are a blend of all the races.

The Kintals.

Yes, the Kintals! Now we know their true name.

Uttering a bark of laughter, Byron turned to Piten. The man met his gaze with eyes of disbelief.

“I guess your people will be in demand now,” Byron said.

“Demand?” Piten stammered.

“Deciphering the alien code. Apparently, it’s your language.”

The Rogue’s stunned expression froze and he ran his hands through his hair, mouth agape. The man’s reaction amused Byron. At least his people had a place in society now.

Byron turned his attention to his son. Bassan continued to cling to his arms, his thoughts mired in stunned amazement. Byron spun his son around and knelt to face him.

Bassan?
he thought, placing a hand alongside his son’s face.

Father, does that mean the Rogue aren’t an abomination?
Bassan thought.

That means
, thought Bassan, smiling at his son,
you are the beginning of the Kintal race. And the key to our survival and understanding. You’re a special race.

So I’m special because I’m a Kintal?

Byron sighed and pulled Bassan to him.

You’ve always been special,
he thought.
You’re my son.

The End

About The Author

Alex J. Cavanaugh has a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree and works in web design and graphics. He is experienced in technical editing and worked with an adult literacy program for several years. A fan of all things science fiction, his interests range from books and movies to music and games. Online he is known as Ninja Captain Alex and is founder of the Insecure Writer’s Support Group. His first two books, CassaStar and CassaFire, are Amazon Best Sellers. Currently the author lives in the Carolinas with his wife.

http://alexjcavanaugh.blogspot.com