Confrontation

  Contents

  Title

  Copyright © 2019 Nathan Hystad

  Books By Nathan Hystad

  Prologue

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Unification: Baldwin's Legacy Book Two

  Free Baldwin's Legacy Story

  Copyright © 2019 Nathan Hystad

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Cover art: Tom Edwards Design

  Typography: Beaulistic Book Services

  Edited by: Scarlett R Algee

  Proofed and Formatted by: BZ Hercules

  Books By Nathan Hystad

  Keep up to date with his new releases by signing up for his Newsletter at www.nathanhystad.com

  Nathan’s books are also available on Audible!

  Baldwin’s Legacy

  Confrontation

  Unification

  Culmination (Coming Soon)

  The Survivors Series

  The Event

  New Threat

  New World

  The Ancients

  The Theos

  Old Enemy

  New Alliance

  The Gatekeepers

  New Horizon

  The Academy

  Old World

  New Discovery

  The Resistance Series

  Rift

  Revenge

  Return

  Lights Over Cloud Lake

  The Manuscript

  Red Creek

  Return to Red Creek

  Prologue

  Tarlen ran along the outer edges of the crowded stage, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Regent as his personal carriage hovered toward the wide-open platform. He wondered how many of his people were gathered. It had to be close to the entire city, perhaps more, as dozens of vessels had arrived each day for the last week in preparation for the festivities.

  His father had spoken to him about the possibility of their humble world joining the ranks of the Concord, but Tarlen couldn’t let himself believe such rumors. The Concord was a collective of the universe’s most powerful planets, and he doubted there was anything Greblok could offer that they didn’t already have.

  “Hold on, Tar,” his sister Belna called from behind him. She could never keep up with him, even though she was older by two stars.

  “Fine, but you better not make me miss seeing the Regent,” Tarlen said, impatiently tapping his foot on the dusty ground.

  The floating carriage settled at the rear of the dais, and Tarlen hung at the far side of the platform, recognizing that this would be his best bet at seeing their ruler in person. The Regent didn’t emerge often, and the last time he’d visited, Tarlen had been stuck working for his father. He wasn’t going to let that happen again. He glanced toward the massive crowd, searching for his parents among the horde. His mother would have forced her husband to stand at the back, safely away from the dense crowd, far from the press of bodies.

  “I don’t see what the big deal is,” Belna said with a huff. She was out of breath, and Tarlen laughed as she craned her neck to see over the edge of the stage. “It’s only the Regent.”

  A guard watched them from his standing position a few yards away, and Tarlen hoped the man hadn’t heard his sister’s foolish words. “Shhh. Keep it down, Bel. They can detain you for less.” He didn’t imagine that was true, but better to err on the side of caution.

  The crowd erupted in a cheer, and they began to chant the word “Concord” from somewhere in the middle. Within a minute, the entire promenade was shouting the name over and over; a harmonious and captivating sound. Tarlen felt compelled to join them, and he peered out the corner of his eye to see Belna uttering it quietly, mouthing the word. Her dark brown eyes were wide and round, the joy not even lost on his sister, who was always so pessimistic.

  A massive screen floated beyond the stage, and the crowd grew silent as the Regent appeared on center stage. He was old, older than Tarlen remembered. Gray hair covered his thin head, and his spine had a stoop to it. He raised a gnarled hand, and you could have heard a pin drop among the thousands of onlookers.

  “Greetings, citizens of Greblok. Thank you for coming to hear me on this wonderous day. It’s not only the biggest day of my ninety-star life, but of this world’s million-star span. We’ve accomplished a lot, and because of our newly discovered mines under the deepest seas, our people have gained entry into…” He paused, and Tarlen leaned forward. His breath was held, waiting for the words to emerge from the elderly Regent’s lips.

  Tarlen peered around the few heads blocking his view to see the real man, not the version on the gigantic screen. Even from here, Tarlen noticed the Regent grinning, a glimmer of youth in his aged eyes. He continued: “Entry into the Concord!” He shouted the last bit, and the crowd erupted in cheers. Tarlen had never heard anything so loud, and he glanced at his sister with a huge smile across his face. She was crying happy tears, as was everyone around them.

  Being part of the Concord meant so much. Tarlen could leave this world; he could join a Concord cruise ship. He could be anything he wanted to be. Dreams of new opportunities fluttered through his mind as the chants and catcalls of joy echoed around the city center. It felt like his blood was alive, and he didn’t even notice the wet streaks pouring down his own cheeks.

  “We herald a new era for Greblok, for you all!” The Regent raised his arms high into the sky. On the screen where the live video feeds were playing, the man looked immense. His back was straighter than it had been a moment ago, and even his hair appeared less gray.

  Things were going to change, and Tarlen was filled with enthusiasm. “Can you believe it?” his sister asked from beside him.

  He thought about what the Regent had said about underwater mines. It was the first he’d heard of them, and he wondered what exactly they held. It didn’t matter. It was exciting enough for the Concord to take them into their fold, almost unbelievable.

  The sky was crystal blue today, and Tarlen’s gaze drifted from the outstretched arms of the Regent to a tiny dot growing larger with each passing breath. He watched it, expecting to find it was only an envoy from a neighboring city late to the party.

  It kept expanding in size.

  The Regent was speaking again, but Tarlen’s heart was beating faster now, the thrumming of his pulse blocking the sounds of the crowd from his ears.

  His sister tapped his shoulder, and he turned to her wonderful smiling face. Tarlen pointed to the incoming object, and Belna followed his finger, her mouth opening wide as she saw it. Dozens more of the dots emerged from the sky, each coming incessantly, filling Tarlen with dread.

  He shouted for the guard’s attention, but the man was watching the Regent with fascination. The entire crowd was captivated by the speech, and Tarlen didn’t think anyone else had spotted the invasion.

  He ran, grabbing Bel’s wrist, pulling her along. They were already on the edge of the crowd, and he moved to the rear, searching for their parents. A ripple of cries carried from the mass of his people. Shouts of joy turned to fear in the snap of a finger, and soon everyone was running, pushing each other, trying to reach safety as the cylindrical pods lowered and commenced firing.

  One dropped directly above Tarlen, and he moved faster, trying to avoid the destruction. The ship was terrifying, matte black and tube-shaped. Red blasts fired from below it, striking his people with impunity.

  Tarlen was knocked to the hard-packed dirt, his hands striking the ground. Rocks cut into his palms, and he pulled his fingers away from the press of boots all around him. Then the panicked people were gone. A red beam hit directly beside him, and Tarlen saw the group vanish as they were vaporized. He found the strength to stand. Miraculously, Belna remained there, gaping toward one of the ships as it moved farther into the promenade, wreaking havoc.

  “Belna, we have to go!” he shouted, grabbing her arm. His hand left a streak of blood on her as he tugged her into action.

  The ground shook as they ran farther from the crowd. Tarlen’s eyes scanned frantically, but he couldn’t find his parents anywhere among the devastation. There were fewer people moving at this point, and the sound of blasts mixed with screams filled the entire city square. It smelled sickly, like blood and terror blended together.

  There had to be over a dozen of the ships, each ten times greater than the Regent’s carriage. His sister stopped, looking up, and Tarlen tried to pull her along. “Bel, we have
to go!” he shouted, losing hold of his sister’s arm.

  He glanced to the sky, where one of the cylinders lowered a few steps from them.

  “Tarlen!” Belna cried, but Tarlen was pushed aside, knocked to the ground. He scrambled to his feet to avoid being crushed by the running people. Loud, angry pulses tore through the skies, tearing apart the stage. The Regent was visible on the huge screen, and Tarlen peered over in time to see the man running as a beam cut through the stage, gashing the Regent to pieces.

  He tried to fight the overwhelming press of bodies, but he was outnumbered, and the only way to escape was to leave his sister behind. “Bel!” Tarlen shouted again, but he couldn’t find her. She was smart. She’d find a way out.

  His decision made, he ran as fast as he could, drifting away from the crowd as the newly-arrived enemy ships continued their assault. Tarlen noticed at least five Greblok Defenders rising in the sky, emerging from the Regent’s palace, and he realized how ill-equipped they were compared to the attackers.

  The dogfights didn’t last long. Pieces of the Defenders crashed to the ground in a fiery mess, and Tarlen jumped out of the way as a burning body plummeted a few yards in front of him. He screamed in fury as he moved, his thin legs pumping, forcing him away from the streets and into the countryside.

  He bent over, panting and coughing, under the canopy of a tree, fighting to not be sick. The ground shook even at the river’s edge, explosions detonating all around. There were no more Defenders. The city was annihilated in the span of a few minutes.

  Tarlen and his sister had a muster point, a cave in the hillsides where they’d meet each other to avoid chores or long workdays at their father’s shop. He was sure she’d come there when she made it out.

  He headed for the hills, running along the riverbank until he found the rock bridge someone had built years ago, creating a place to cross the roaring water. Tarlen’s feet moved through the motions, and he was soon on the far side, the cityscape shrinking in the distance as he raced from it.

  Tarlen wiped tears with his forearm as he stopped, his legs unable to keep moving. He searched the horizon, where more of the cylinders ruthlessly attacked other cities and nearby villages. They were under heavy assault, and Greblok had no real defense.

  Were his parents alive? Was anyone going to come help them? A million questions coursed through his fearful thoughts as he plodded along, hidden from prying eyes by the dense tree cover. He ended up at the hillside; the same cave he and Belna had been visiting since they were children sat hidden in the rocks, and he sought the safety of the haven.

  Night came, and the barrage of noises halted so suddenly, Tarlen thought he might have gone deaf.

  There was no way to determine how long he’d been hiding in the cave entrance, watching the terrible light show. It was dark, and Tarlen’s legs burned as he propped himself up, unable to stop staring at the destruction. The world looked to be on fire. It was so foreign, Tarlen struggled to comprehend what he was seeing.

  Within minutes, the cylinders were gone, but evidence of their arrival was all around him as the entire skyline burned with a hot orange glow.

  Tarlen slumped to the ground and waited for his sister.

  One

  Thomas Baldwin walked through the corridors one last time before it was spoiled forever. He could grow used to this: the solitude, the silence. In less than five hours, there would be over three hundred crew members filling the ship, but now, for a few more minutes, he was the sole inhabitant of Constantine.

  He bristled at the name and wished the Concord would have heeded his suggestions before going public with the official title. Once the media and the Concord worlds grabbed hold of the story, there was no turning back.

  “You old codger, you would have loved the attention, wouldn’t you?” Tom grinned despite himself. It could be worse; he could still be the commander on the Cecilia, one of the Concord’s longest-running vessels. After spending eight years aboard the ship, he was going to miss parts of it; very few selective parts, but… it was easy to grow attached to something, even an old vessel.

  Cecilia was one of a kind, apparently both in life and in her AI form on the ship. Tom had grown up hearing stories about her from his grandfather, and according to him, the admiral that became Baldwin’s previous ship’s namesake was a legend.

  Constantine hadn’t been activated yet, and Tom was both dreading and anticipating the AI modeled after his grandfather. He tried to clear his head, but there were dozens of lingering concerns floating around inside his mind, bumping into one another as he prepared to launch the brand-new starship.

  “Captain Baldwin.” He tested out the title. “Captain Thomas Baldwin.”

  “Are you talking to yourself?” a voice asked from behind him. His heart raced as he spun to see Executive Lieutenant Reeve Daak leaning against the wall, as if she was casually hanging out at a lounge.

  “I thought I was alone.” That was his explanation, and she didn’t press him on it.

  “What do you think?” she asked, waving an arm in the air, indicating the ship as a whole.

  “It’s a masterpiece. The Concord have really outdone themselves this time,” he told her.

  “Have you been to the boiler room yet?” she asked.

  Tom paused, unsure what she was talking about. “The boiler room?”

  “Engineering. That’s what my previous captain called the guts of the ship.” Reeve grinned, and Tom felt his walls lower slightly. He had only met select members of the crew, and most of those occasions had been fairly formal. One of the downsides of becoming a new captain: the Concord chose your crew for you.

  On paper, Tom was pleased, and he knew the list of applicants for Constantine had been lengthy. The Concord used a mixture of statistics and personal interviews to find the most skilled and compatible crews; at least, that was what the admiral had told him. Tom thought there was more to it. There always was when politics became involved.

  “Engineering. Of course. Lead the way,” Tom said.

  Reeve wasn’t in uniform, and he found the sight abnormal. He was used to spending every waking moment in the black pants and long-sleeved slate-gray shirt, with the Concord’s logo of their first vessel hovering over a full moon etched on the breast. His own uniform sported a red collar, the captain’s color. It still felt odd, after so many years wearing orange as commander.

  “Have you found your quarters yet?” he asked, trying to sound conversational.

  “Not yet. I wasn’t supposed to be on board for three hours, but I just got the call from the top. The engines were sending out some abnormal readings, so they asked me to run some diagnostics,” Reeve told him.

  “That can’t be good. We haven’t even left dock,” Tom said, wondering if he should worry yet.

  “Better to find out any issues now. Believe me, we’ve been over this ship a million times. Constantine is regularly running scans, internally and externally. If there’s an issue, we’ll find it and deal with it.” Reeve led him through the well-lit corridor in the ship’s center.

  They stepped onto the pedway, the glass rails allowing them to see the greenery below.

  “Can you imagine?” Reeve asked, not elaborating, and Tom only nodded.

  “It’s all quite elaborate,” he told her, and she stopped in the center of the pedway to lean her elbows on the railing. Thick strands of her hair hung over her face, and she brushed them away, revealing the brightest red eyes he’d ever seen. Even for a Tekol, her eye color was unique.

  “Gardens on a Concord cruise ship, with water and greenhouses. This is next-level stuff, Captain.” Her eyes danced before she looked away from Tom, staring at the misting water spraying from under the pedway. The entire room was comfortable, the perfect balance of temperature and humidity.

  He’d spent so much time aboard starships that the only green space he saw was when he headed to other Class Zero-Nine planets. Only then, the trees were usually bizarre, the wildlife different from Earth’s in some innocuous way. Since Constantine was the flagship of a new era, the Concord hadn’t held back on their long-awaited additions. It was a far cry from his previous posting, where you were more likely to see a patched-up wall or loose wires dangling in the bathrooms.