Carinae Sector: 01 - Traders' Scourge - Part 1 - Alien Flight (4 page)

The two Quixxe knew the secret oral traditions of their people, long ago a proud star faring race in their own right. Once they also had a warrior sub species, but all the warriors had been the first to die at the hands of the Vorinne and the Zronte. The worst problem they had as a race was that they were regarded by the Zronte and other races as a superb food source. The Quixxe were one of the few galactic races to suffer in such a horrible manner. For whole populations of the generic Quixxe sub species without the fine feathers, fine hands and fine minds were kept as livestock on myriads of Tilmud and Zronte worlds several hundred light years away.

The Quixxe couple stopped their grooming and Brodinal now began to speak calmly to his mate.

‘Apinal, take all our fledglings from school and go and visit your sister’s family. Do not lose time packing, just go and only say you are on leave. The last clutch of eggs will be safe in the hatchery, now just go and tell our traditions and then our story of this day.’

Apinal gave a soft shriek of anguish, but did not wait another moment, as millennia of survival instincts as prey now took over. She gave her mate a brief backward glance of love mixed with pity as she fled the facility to spirit away their children. Brodinal felt a chill as he considered that this could be his last day of life. He knew that females of other senior Quixxe engineers would also be hiding out by the end of the day as the males fronted their master and sought to deflect his wrath.

Apinal mechanically went through the motions of fleeing with her young, like all Quixxe they practiced for this day as an article of faith amongst them. She knew that for some reason her visit to the school would not be remembered, the hover train driver would not recall Apinal’s destination, and she could lie low at her sister’s place for as long as she liked. Apinal later noted that a large Vorinne lifter was landing at the space port on the outer edge of the city. She worried about the significance of the ship’s arrival, before her youngest fledgling, a female large for her size, clamored for her attention.

Brodinal had found the security director talking with the two senior engineers and he now joined them. The four Quixxe resolutely considered any and all information they could assemble to present to the Vorinne planetary superintendent. By unspoken agreement, none of them talked about the fears they had for their females and young. The Quixxe engineers were good enough to work out exactly what was taken and the rationale, as they had a good idea of who had taken the items. The avian engineers had discovered this information after quickly looking through the security footage that had survived. However this presented them with a problem that one of the engineers stated in voice tinged with fear.

‘Brodinal, we could tell the full truth to Malang’troh, but we would betray the secret future of our race by doing so. I say that we only tell him what we know, not what we think and believe, as this could be dangerous.’

The second engineer was shivering in fright as he also offered a frantic opinion.

‘We are not livestock, we are artisans and engineers, and we should distance ourselves from thoughts of the future! We should tell Malang’troh the whole truth and prostrate ourselves as we ask for his mercy!’

A series of protesting squawks issued from the throats of both the security director and the first engineer as Brodinal spoke.

‘Well that would be all well and good if we could be assured of the superintendent’s mercy. However if the Vorinne even get an inkling that we are seditious in any way then they will purge most of the planet.’

The four Quixxe were now well aware that countless thousands of other lives would then be at stake if they lost their nerves. The security director now spoke carefully to his three co-workers.

‘I agree with Brodinal and the first engineer, we cannot know the full story of why another vassal race took the equipment. All we can do is act the faithful and dumb Quixxe slave as we are destined to die anyway as punishment.’

Brodinal looked with compassion at the terrified second engineer, and he spoke softly but formally.

‘Under the holy past of our race, I forbid you to speak of what you think or surmise to our master. You are either free to take your own life or you may join us as we attempt to appease Malang’troh.’

The second engineer looked at his three friends and co-workers, and he found their own resolve to be uplifting as he briefly replied.

‘I will go with you all to the meeting. For the future glory and freedom of our young we will endure our fate today.’

The four Quixxe did not have long to wait before two ground cars crewed by Tilmud mercenaries arrived, and they were silently bundled aboard, before being driven from the ruins of the research facility.

                                                            ***

Chapter 2

The cloaked assault ship cleared the Vorinne systems in a stealthy series of hyper drive jumps back to Barus space. The crew space was fully occupied by a several heavily armored Barus marines in mercenary armor, and a dozen smaller Deltas Vass combat drones were also present in their strangely armored suits. The former Barus fleet officer in charge of the mission looked up from his data tablet and regarded the Deltas Vass drones with new found respect. The drone’s unique abilities had given the mission a serious edge over the mediocre defenses of the facility. The stolen equipment had been hurriedly loaded onboard the ship before it had raced into the predawn sky. Later the stubby wings, aero spike engines and boosters had all been jettisoned to provide greater speed as the assault ship had returned to space.

The Deltas Vass drone leader looked over at the Barus and watched him as he was tinkering away with a data tablet. The Barus operative noted the interest of the drone leader and good naturedly explained what he was doing.

‘With the first part of the joint operation completed I now know how much equipment I have available for the rest of the operation. According to my calculations, I should still be able to get all the extra equipment aboard my fast trading ship.’

The Deltas Vass drone leader looked at the tablet briefly, but seemed preoccupied with a thought he now voiced.

‘Glad to hear the operation is now live and could succeed; although I understand it will take years to move forward. However I am saddened by what will happen to the Quixxe artisans working at the weapons facility.’

The good humor of the Barus operative evaporated like water in an open airlock and he somberly replied.

‘Well drone leader, if they are lucky only the managers of the facility will be killed, even if the method is repulsive. Hopefully our operation could aid their plight in the long term.’

The two fellow raiders, divided by complex biology, but united by a common cause now sat quietly, as the assault ship continued to flee across space from the wrath of the Vorinne.

                                                            ***

Brodinal glanced out of the window of the ground car and noted that they were not heading to the office of Malang’troh. He looked at the Tilmud guard sitting across from him and framed a very polite question. The Tilmud might only be dumb guards, but they were a full vassal race compared to the slave status of his own species.

‘Honored and brave guard, we seem to be travelling way from the offices of Malang’troh. Is there a problem at all?’

The Tilmud guard looked down at him along its heavily toothed nuzzle for a moment, as if seeking to find insult in how it was addressed, before it replied harshly.

‘Be thankful I am not hungry you pile of feathers. The great Lord Malang’troh has left his office to personally greet important visitors at the space port as they have a request of him. You were to be brought in front of him at the space port.’

The Tilmud guard suppressed a sneer as it balefully looked at him before settling back to doze. Brodinal was now seriously worried and softly spoke in an obscure Quixxe dialect to the security director silently sitting alongside him.

‘Courage is required here for I think the wrath of Malang’troh will swift, brutal and final.’

The security director did not look around as he softly replied in the same dialect.

‘We can only hope that we four are the only casualties, indeed I would accept my lot many times over if this was the case. I will advise and steady both the engineers when we arrive as you will be busy speaking with our master.’

Brodinal thanked him for his support, and had only a few minutes to further marshal his reasoning, before they were driven through the gates of the star port. His concerns were well founded as they approached a large Vorinne transport occupying a privileged landing site reserved for Vorinne nobility or above. The above part of the privilege had him breaking out in cold sweat as he considered the implications, and in moments they had left the two ground cars. Brodinal noted that an imperial seal was being unrolled and that a Tilmud media crew was also present and had started filming a live broadcast.

The four Quixxe were soon waiting nervously several meters away from the imperial seal. The security director now had a long feathered arm around both the engineers, and was speaking to them quietly, as Brodinal eyed their surroundings and found no comfort. Both engineers straightened and again found resolve, and Brodinal again thought of his family, and he hoped they would find safety. A hunting horn was sounded by one of the Tilmud mercenaries, and the four Quixxe knelt face down in supplication as their master walked down the cargo ramp of the large transport.

Malang’troh walked on his second and third set of limbs across the imperial seal without concern of the status of the seal. He cradled in his two front limbs or his arms his staff of office, both a weapon and badge of rank. The Vorinne towered four meters off the ground even when walking on four limbs, and all the Quixxe shivered in fright at his approach. The planetary supervisor looked balefully over the four kneeling Quixxe, and rapped his staff hard on the ground to show his displeasure as he harshly spoke.

‘I do treat my servants and slaves well, indeed I have always done, yet look how I am repaid. My prime research facility has been destroyed and the Vorinne overseer has been killed. The overseer was a third cousin from a junior branch of my family, and they will want me to pay blood money for his loss.’

Brodinal now knew that the four of them were going to die, and he could only hope it was quick. Silently he remembered the secret lessons of his race’s history, even as he paid careful attention to his master. He knew that his race in antiquity had nearly defeated the Vorinne themselves in a series of wars, before the Zronte intervened and cast his race down. He returned his attention to their surroundings, and noted the anticipatory glares of pleasure from the vile Tilmud mercenaries clustered behind them as Malang’troh continued to speak loudly.

‘The new cruiser guns were taken and years of research into these new weapons were destroyed. All of it brought about by an unknown assault shuttle landing at night, and so were are my servants? They are all home in the comfortable beds I supplied them. Brodinal, I put you in charge of the facility, now do you have anything to say for yourself?’

Brodinal waited and kept silent, and Malang’troh now spoke again in fury.

‘Yes, Yes, I give you leave to speak your mind and all that, now speak!’

Brodinal remained kneeling, and spoke softly in attempt to defuse his master's anger.

‘Honored master, this humble slave humbly begs your mercy and forgiveness. The facility security footage shows that a combined force of Deltas Vass drones and Barus mercenaries arrived in cloaked assault shuttle and attacked your facility. As you say, three of the four new guns were taken and much of the research is destroyed by powerful explosives. They also removed a several new types of shields and portable fusion generators. From what I can tell they also downloaded key areas of the research server into a portable recorder.’

Brodinal knew that he would risk the wrath Malang’troh extending beyond the four of them if he offered any criticism or opinion. He especially avoided mentioning the unexplained absence of Vorinne military patrols or even of the motives of the attacking forces. The Quixxe waited patiently as the Vorinne planetary superintendent studied the four of them at length balefully, before he replied in words that sent ice into hearts of his slaves.

‘Obviously your security was inadequate and I find all of you culpable. I lack the patience to deal with you any longer, and my mercy and forgiveness applies only to the Quixxe I still own and protect on this world. So as my wrath is with you four only you are being sold and by selling you I neatly address a request from an honored party of guests. Battle lord Temeroth now owns the four of you.’

The four Quixxe remained kneeling in abject terror as their former master walked off the imperial seal. Malang’troh now in turn knelt on all six limbs facing the ramp of the Vorinne transport. The Tilmud guard sounded the horn again in a different note, and the four slaves watched as their death strode down the ramp on massive talons to then stand on the imperial seal. Brodinal fought down rising panic as he knew that Zronte did not keep even the Quixxe artisans as slaves. He furtively studied under his bowed head the massive dome headed form of a Zronte battle lord, admittedly a junior one and probably young, so that meant it would take a mate soon.

Brodinal knew his fears were well founded, as the large ten meter reptilian opened his huge snout to display a fearsome array of sharp teeth as he spoke.

‘Malang’troh, thank you for the courtesy you have shown me and my party in the loan of your transport, and in promptly granting my request. I will offer you adequate compensation out of imperial funds for the loss of your facility and for these former slaves of yours. You may withdraw if you will, as we will conclude our business here before we leave, and it may offend your senses.’

Brodinal noted in terror that a second slightly larger Zronte, a female, had now come down the loading ramp to stand beside her mate. Malang’troh stood and backed away in a deep bow of respect, before turning and leaving without a backward glance. Brodinal could see the green bands on the female Zronte’s throat denoting her breeding condition, and corrected his estimation of the battle lord to that of having just taken a mate. He also knew that the female Zronte needed live prey to trigger her breeding impulses.