Hierarchy (Baldwin's Legacy Book 4) Read online

  Contents

  Title

  Copyright ©

  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

  Lineage (Baldwin's Legacy Book 5)

  Join Nathan's Newsletter

  Copyright © 2020 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

  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!

  The Manuscript

  Lights Over Cloud Lake

  Red Creek

  Return to Red Creek

  Baldwin’s Legacy

  Confrontation

  Unification

  Culmination

  Hierarchy

  Lineage

  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

  Old Secrets

  The Resistance Series

  Rift

  Revenge

  Return

  Prologue

  The entire station shook violently as the nearest defender exploded, sending shrapnel in every direction. Gotran stared through the thin slice of window cut into the corridor’s wall, seeing the invaders fly through the last of the Minon dreadnaughts. This was it. He used the tablet in his grip, but it flashed red, indicating an error had taken place. Something was jamming the signal. He’d have to do it manually.

  Gotran knew where they were headed, and it was up to him to prevent them from getting what they’d set out for. It was his duty to see it through, and nothing was going to stop him. He told himself this a few times as he ran through the dim halls, the lights flickering on and off after a few errant shots had struck the space station in the battle over the previous hour.

  They’d expected to be able to hold out longer, but the invaders were stronger than they’d imagined. It was possible their intel had been weak to begin with. Half of the Minon Advisors had suggested leaving the package on their planet, while the other half wanted her stored away on their deep-system Border station. Considering that transmissions from their home city had ceased to relay since the start of the battle, Gotran suspected things hadn’t gone well at that front either.

  He was grateful that the gravity generator was functioning, because otherwise, moving through the ship would have been a lot slower, since these corridors lacked the hang rungs of the earlier models. Gotran was old enough to remember them, and that was why he’d been left in charge of today’s most important task.

  The hangars were a few stories above, but Gotran had already deactivated the elevator cars. He took the stairs eagerly and pressed through the hangar door just as the enemy ship settled into the station’s docking bay. The Minon station was small compared to most Border patrol gates, but they’d rarely had issues like some of the other Concord sectors.

  Until now.

  He needed to relocate before they spotted him. He tried the tablet again, with the same response, and he tossed it to the floor, racing across the docking passageway. The bomb was activated, the countdown at five minutes, but it wasn’t ticking. Gotran glanced at the landed ship as the ramp lowered. The first enemy soldier appeared: thick arms, two massive guns, and a long face, eyes huge and black. He’d never seen this race before.

  Breaking his stare, Gotran pressed the button on the explosive device, the numbers decreasing, and scurried through the nearest door. Five minutes wasn’t adequate time.

  His boots clanged too loudly as he ran for the stairs, and he heard them gaining traction, bullets plunging into the walls directly behind him. He made quick work of the stairs, taking two or three at a time, and pushed through the station’s lowest level. This was below Deck Zero, the one that didn’t show on the schematics. It wouldn’t matter. The enemy would find him if he wasn’t fast. He guessed there were two minutes left before the bomb erupted and destroyed any chance of escape, and he hurried down the dark hall as if it were fully lit. He knew the way.

  Gotran came upon a tiny beam spread under a doorway and moved for it, opening the door to find the young woman inside the pod, eyes wide and afraid.

  “Is it done?” she asked.

  Gotran shook his head. “I’m sorry, but we have to leave. They’ve passed our defenses. They’ll be here in seconds.”

  She paled, and he dropped the metal beam across the door, hoping it would be enough. They slid into the bullet-shaped pod just as the disturbance outside picked up. They’d arrived.

  It didn’t matter. He’d done it. Gotran pressed the release button, sending their pod from the station. He moved the yoke, angling them away from the invasion, and hit the thrusters. They sat in chairs, strapped side by side, and watched as the station above exploded. Gotran hadn’t been born when his people had created the station, and in the blink of an eye, it was gone.

  “We did it,” she said, grabbing his hand. He tried not to flinch. This woman had the potential to save their race, as well as the Seeli, but she was also the reason for many deaths today.

  “We did.” Gotran sighed loudly. Their pod was small, and he used a lance to pick up a section of a dreadnaught’s hull to hide behind as they soared to safety.

  The system was teeming with the invaders, a nameless race he despised with all his energy. If there was a Vastness, he hoped these ones burned deep in its antithesis for eternity.

  “Where will we go?” she asked, and he realized no one had told her a thing. He looked at her. Young, big-eyed, with an innocence you rarely saw in people any longer. It was difficult to believe that within her was their future.

  “I cannot tell you,” he said.

  “Why?”

  “Because they can’t obtain our colony’s location,” Gotran told her.

  “But… we’re safe, we’ve escaped.” Her words were like an omen, and Gotran lurched as something grabbed hold of them. He’d been so distracted by her that he hadn’t seen the drones arriving. They didn’t shown on the pod’s radar, but there they were, using their own lances to hold the pod in place.

  “What was that?” she asked, but Gotran didn’t respond.

  He fumbled with the controls, trying to find the electro-pulse, but when he pressed
it, nothing happened to the drones. Whoever these invaders were, they were far more advanced than the Minon, despite the outward appearance of their huge vessel. He pushed the thrusters to full power, and for a moment, he thought they might have broken free of the drone’s lances, but a second later, they began moving toward a hulking shadow in space. The ship was immense, intimidating, half the size of their entire Border station.

  It was black, the odd light blinking along the outer hull, giving it shape. The pod headed for an entrance along the middle of the giant vessel, and the girl cried beside him, asking more questions than he could answer.

  “We’ll figure it out,” he assured her, but they wouldn’t.

  He’d been ordered to fight to the death if this happened, but when he met her gaze, the big eyes streaming tears, he couldn’t do it. She might be safe in their hands, likely a bargaining chip for these invaders to use with the Concord.

  She squinted, fear filling her expression. “They’ll hurt me, won’t they?”

  Gotran shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

  “And you?” she asked.

  This time, he nodded his head. “I suspect they have no need for me.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s all my fault.” The girl continued to cry as they moved into the ship, their pod lowered to the floor by the drones upon arrival. They banged around in their straps, until the pod finally came to rest. Gotran considered pulling his weapon out, but it was pointless fighting them. The girl could still create life, but this was the end of the line for him.

  He was the fourth generation in his bloodline to protect the Advisors, and he could only hope his own son would fulfill his role after his demise.

  As the doors were cut open, powerful arms tore into the pod, aiming giant guns at them. Gotran patted the girl’s leg and unclasped his straps.

  One

  Captain Thomas Baldwin sat in silence, watching the stars stream through the viewscreen. Treena Starling was beside him, combing over some notes on her clear tablet, the icons glowing a soft blue over the screen as she tapped away, making comments on some of the data points. It was the captain’s job to complete these tasks on occasion, and if his commander was going to lead her own vessel soon, he wanted her to have a head start.

  She’d taken to the training well, as he’d expected, but Tom honestly couldn’t imagine being torn from Constantine. Could he really take the promotion? His grandfather hadn’t been able to abandon his old ship fast enough, but that was after a decade-long war. Tom had only been captain for a few months, and he wanted more from his tenure.

  The sounds on Constantine were so completely different from those of his previous ship, Cecilia, that it felt strange at times, but he was growing used to them. The beeping, the chimes of the consoles, the way the lights cast shadows of the helm crew on the floor near the viewscreen: it was all a change, but familiar now.

  “Captain, we have a message coming from Vaxiar,” Ven said, startling Tom. They’d been moving in silence for a few hours. As exciting as being the captain of a Concord cruise ship could be, there were countless days spent in space travel, with nothing in between.

  Tom shifted in his seat, blinking a few times before speaking. “Where is that again?”

  The viewscreen showed a star map, and Ven zoomed on a system two over. “Vaxiar is home to the Seeli, a bipedal race that have had interstellar travel for four hundred and seventeen years. They were the twenty-third Concord member, and…”

  “Okay, thanks, Executive Lieutenant. Please play the message,” Tom ordered.

  An image of the Seeli appeared on screen. Tom had rarely seen the beings at the Academy during his time there. This one was short and squat, its head almost directly on its torso, with little to no visible neck. Its mouth opened and closed a few times before it spoke through sharp teeth. It had wide nostrils and small eyes, with scales over its face.

  “This is an urgent message for Captain Thomas Baldwin. We’ve reached out to the Concord for assistance, and they suggested you might be able to help, since you’re the closest representative to our home.” The being spoke Standard, though its words were bubbly, as if it was talking into a glass of water. “We’ve been unable to reach the Minon of Talepen for the last few days. They recently discovered something vitally important to the survival of our people, but now we fear the worst.”

  Tom stood, walking toward the viewscreen, where the image was paused. “What do you think, Ven? Any idea what they’re talking about?”

  “Captain, the Minon are also a Concord partner, the seventeenth to join, interstellar for seven hundred and thirty three years. They are…” Ven started, and Tom raised a hand.

  “Can you attempt to make contact?” he asked.

  Lieutenant Darl spoke up from beside Ven. “I’ve sent a ping to them. They have a space station along the Border. I visited there once before. Small place, but good cuisine.”

  “Alert me if they reply,” Tom said.

  “Captain, I remember hearing about these guys. These two planets… their people are slowly dying. Something’s occurred to interfere with their reproductions.”

  Tom rubbed his chin, recalling a brief notification about this a couple of years ago. “That’s right. Isn’t it odd that both are having issues? Perhaps a radiation concern this far out?”

  Treena shook her head beside him. “I think they’re distantly related. Everyone has been involved in their struggle, from R-emergence to Nolix’s best and brightest doctors. They gave up a while ago.”

  “I doubt the Seeli have, though.” Tom felt bad for them. Their population was slowly dwindling, fewer and fewer children being born with each generation.

  “Do we want to get involved with something like this while escorting the Ugna Elders to their new home?” Brax asked from his station along the far left edge of the bridge.

  “We’ll see, Lieutenant Commander Daak. I’d personally rather ignore it and proceed with our mission, but you know how these things go. The Concord has been depleted over the years, and with more activity along the Border of late, we’re being pulled in a lot of directions. I can’t legally ignore these requests, so we’ll exercise our due diligence and investigate.” Tom sat in his chair, briefly smiling. Not because of the terrible circumstances of the distress call; he hated to see any of their partners in duress. He smiled because things like this only reminded him of why he didn’t want to give up his captaincy.

  For what? To be locked in a boardroom on Nolix, where people were crammed so tightly together, you could feel their breath? His chest tightened thinking about it, and he tried Brax’s flame technique to calm himself. Tom inhaled deeply, picturing the flame, and soon he relaxed. Be in the now, Baldwin. You aren’t stuck in an office yet.

  “Captain, the station ping failed,” Darl said, glancing over at him.

  “What do you mean, failed?” Treena set her tablet down, watching with interest.

  “Usually, it would hit and we’d wait for a response, but this one didn’t. It kept moving.” Darl zoomed on the map, showing where the station was supposed to be hanging along the Border.

  “They’re gone?” Tom asked.

  “It appears so,” Darl replied.

  “Would they have moved?” Treena inquired.

  Ven shook his head. “The station’s been posted there for a long time, and it’s never changed locations. If it’s no longer responsive, that would suggest it has been destroyed.”

  Tom clenched his jaw. This was getting serious. “Contact the Seeli.”

  Seconds later, Tom stood before the viewscreen, the squat man appearing in front of him. “Greetings. I am Captain Thomas Baldwin of Constantine.”

  “Captain, I am Yunrio of the Seeli. Were you successful in contacting the Minon?” the man asked.

  There was no point in withholding information. “We have not, and fear their station has been destroyed. Do you know why?”

  The man looked around his office, which was filled with crates, computers, and stra
nge art. Yunrio’s voice lowered. “I’d prefer we met in private, sir.”

  “Is that a good idea?” Ven asked, muting the transmission. “Elder Fayle will be most upset.”

  “Unmute.” Tom waited a second and continued. “We’d like to assist you but are on a pressing timeline.”

  “Do not fear. The genetic condition is not transmissible to any of the Founders.” Yunrio squinted, placing his thick fingers over his oval mouth.

  “I’d appreciate you sending me all the data so my doctor can assess the information before we meet,” Tom told him, and the man nodded quickly.

  “Very well.”

  “We’ll be in touch soon.” Tom motioned Ven to end the call, and the viewscreen showed nothing but stars once again.

  “Thoughts, Commander?” Tom turned to Treena. This was a real test for the captain of a ship, and Treena would be encountering situations like this more often than Tom would like. He wanted to use this mission as a hands-on training course for her.

  Treena remained seated, and she opened the file the Seeli man had already sent to their attention. She scanned the data, and Tom peered over her shoulder, not really understanding any of it.

  “I’d say he’s probably holding something back, and he seemed scared. This packet indicates there are less than a billion Seeli on their world, down from three times that two hundred years ago,” she said.

  “You don’t see that often. Most of us keep growing and growing.” Brax lifted his eyebrows, rubbing his bald head with a palm.

  “We do need to help them. Especially if the Minon had found something important to their future,” Treena said.

  “I wonder what it was?” Tom asked.

  “Clearly vital, and with the station likely gone, I have a bad feeling about it. We’ll need to learn more from Yunrio.” Treena glanced up at Tom.

  “Captain, the Seeli have sent the pertinent files.” Darl peered over his shoulder.

  “Forward them to the medical bay. We need to speak with Doctor Nee now.” Tom was already mentally rehearsing the upcoming conversation with Elder Fayle about the delay.