Authors: Stephen A. Fender
Turning to her, he decided
to ask. “Are you getting any of this?”
She nodded as her eyes
continued to scan. “It’s an invasion force,” she replied in a whisper, then
realized that everyone wearing masks could hear her.
No secrets … for now.
“I pretty much had that
much figured out.”
There was another round of
clicks and chirps from the PA system, then it fell silent.
“It sounds like they’re intent
on retaking a world that was captured,” she said.
“There are several in the
adjacent quadrants,” Litto said as he motioned them to follow him across a
gantry way toward on open door. “I took the liberty of downloading everything
from Commodore Savath and Colonel Tausan onto this.” His hand slipped behind
him, and Melissa was quick to retrieve a red memory card. “It has charts of all
the nearby systems, as well the registries of the warships who frequently
patrol them. It also contains copies of all transmissions between myself and
the Unified fleet. I’m not sure how useful any of it will be to you, but it may
come in handy.”
As they stepped into the
open doorway, the hatches ahead and behind them abruptly closed, sealing them
in. The lights were then shut off, and Shawn, Melissa, Litto, and Doctor Uudon
were suddenly cloaked in total darkness. A moment later, the lights came on as
the feeling of vertical movement took over.
“The most exciting phrase
to hear in science, the one that heralds new discoveries, is not ‘Eureka!’ but
rather ‘Hmm … that’s funny …’”
-Isaac
Asimov
Late
20
th
century author and biochemistry professor, First Earth
As the lift came to a slow
halt, the single door swung outward, admitting the group into a large, open
space. Litto seemed to know exactly where he was going, obviously the recipient
of information Shawn and Melissa weren’t privy to. Behind him, Doctor Uudon was
trying to look at everything all at once. The long, peppered hair whirled as
his head spun to face a dozen different directions every few seconds. Shawn and
Melissa tried to follow his curious gaze, but were soon distracted by sights of
their own.
“This is the station’s main
walkway,” Litto said over his shoulder, loud enough for Shawn to hear over the
combined Kafaran chatter all around. “I’d advise keeping as close to me as
possible. There are restricted areas here, known only to Kafarans. To trespass
on them is to invite unwanted attention to our party.”
All around, Shawn watched
as each group of Kafarans they passed turned to stare at them. Some grunted in
disgust, others gawked silently. Others muttered Kafaran curses—only a few of
which Shawn was aware, and none he was delighted to hear. “We’ve got plenty of
unwanted attention already,” Shawn said sideways to Melissa, who in turn nodded
silently.
Walking past an open bay,
Shawn wagered a glance inside. There were several brightly lit signs, and what
looked like a bar at the far side of the room where several Kafarans had
gathered. Above them hung the fragments of an old Sector Command fighter, a
spoil from the last war evidently hung as a trophy.
Rounding a final corner,
they came to a wide view port with an unobstructed view of space. Outside,
firmly affixed to the station, was a Kafaran warship. The oblong shape and
moss-like covering did little to persuade Shawn it was anything but. The large-bore
cannons and smaller emplacements tucked into every hard point the
superstructure could accommodate betrayed its ominous intentions.
“Don’t tell me
this
is our transport?” Shawn asked in disbelief as Captain Litto came to a halt.
Litto looked up at the
Kafaran script stenciled on the airlock door and nodded. “It is, Commander.”
“I was under the impression
this was a covert operation, not a military mission,” Shawn said.
Litto nodded. “I’m afraid I
can’t speak to that point, Commander.” Reaching out, he tapped a short series of
codes into the keypad beside the door.
“You’ve got access to the
ship as well?” Melissa asked.
Litto snickered as he
inputted the last few characters. “Hardly. I’m sending a message to the bridge,
advising the captain that we are here and waiting.” He then turned to see her
look of disapproval. “I’m afraid that’s all I know how do with this terminal,
you understand.”
“Commodore Savath?” she
asked.
Litto nodded once again.
“His instructions were
quite
specific. I took the liberty of committing
them to memory.”
“Probably wise,” Shawn
mumbled, which Litto acknowledged with a smirk.
A few minutes later, a
hissing sound came from within the doorframe of the airlock. A second later it
was open, and four heavily armed Kafaran officers—each nearly eight feet
tall—glared down angrily at the foreigners. The most forward of them, one with
a blue sash tied around his waist, made a series of popping and clicking noises
that was instantly translated to a device hung around his neck.
“You are Captain Litto?”
the Kafaran asked Melissa.
She shook her head, not
knowing what to say that wouldn’t offend the officer. Thankfully Litto spoke
up.
“I am Litto.”
The Kafaran’s amber eyes
shifted to the Rugorian officer, resplendent in his crimson uniform. “You’re
late,” the translator efficiently growled.
If Litto was insulted, it
didn’t show. “And who am I addressing?” he said formally, correctly knowing
that before he could give any response to the Kafaran, their native protocol
required them to identify themselves.
“Major Fralok,” the
translator repeated. “Second-in-command of the warship
Tangled Web
.”
“
Tangled Web
?” Uudon
repeated almost comically. “That’s not a very imposing name for a battle
cruiser.”
Major Fralok glared at the
small doctor in disbelief. “You dare to insult the name of the Empire’s
proudest cruiser!” he barked through his translator, then took a step closer to
Uudon. “I should crush you where you stand.”
Shawn was quick to put up
his hands as he stepped between the doctor and the advancing Kafaran. “Please,
Major … calm down. Doctor Uudon may be an equal opportunity insulter, but I
don’t think he meant any harm.”
Fralok growled at Uudon,
who said nothing in return.
“Besides, we all know how
finicky these Kafaran translators can be,” Shawn continued, then looked over
his shoulder, imploring the doctor into an apology. “Isn’t that right,
Doctor?
”
Uudon stared at Fralok for
a long moment before speaking. “Oh, very well. If it will get this mission over
with sooner.” Stepping around Shawn, Uudon stood toe to toe with his accuser.
“My deepest apologies, Major,” he said, then offered a courteous bow.
Major Fralok, his ashen
face having turned almost red during the intercourse, allowed his breathing to
slow as his skin once again lost nearly all traces of color. He grunted, this
time in approval. “For the moment, you are forgiven. See that it does not
happen again.”
Uudon, still bowing,
stepped backward to place himself behind Shawn.
“I was not informed that a
droid would be present,” the major said as he glared at M-9. When Shawn turned
to follow the major’s gaze, he saw the robot admiring a particularly grimy
recirculation vent.
“He’s part and parcel with
Doctor Uudon.”
Fralok growled, then turned
to Litto. “As for you, Captain Litto,” he continued, “your presence is not
authorized on board our ship. You will remain here.”
Litto nodded, then turned
to Shawn. “I’ll need to get the ship outside Kafaran space as soon as
possible.”
“Where will you be?”
Melissa asked.
“Just on the other side of
the border. You have three days, Commander Kestrel. After that, I’ll be forced
to return the
Honor Guard,
and anything in her cargo hold, to the
Unified fleet. It’s simply too dangerous to remain alone and unprotected this
far away from our support.”
“I understand.” Shawn
reached out a hand, which Litto grasped. “We’ll be back well before then,
Captain.”
“Safe journeys to you all.”
Litto nodded to Melissa, then turned and disappeared into the throng of Kafarans
milling about.
“Not much on goodbyes, is
he?” Melissa asked.
“You will accompany me to
the bridge,” Fralok said briskly. “The captain is anxious to get underway, and
we are already late.”
“Late for what, exactly?”
Uudon asked as M-9 swaggered up beside him.
Fralok only turned and
headed back into the ship. “Follow. Now.”
Resigned, Shawn put an arm
lightly around Melissa’s waist. “Come on, Angel.” Looking over his shoulder, he
could see that Uudon hadn’t begun to move—he simply stared at the imposing
Kafaran standing before him. “Let’s go, Doc! Get the lead out. And don’t forget
that mechanical menace of yours,” he said, then turned back to face whatever
was about to greet them inside the ship. “Didn’t you hear?” he murmured. “We’re
late
.”
%%%
The corridors of the
Kafaran warship were just as Shawn imagined they would have appeared: dark,
foreboding, and echoing with the clicks and pops of the alien language. There
were eight sides to the corridors, with pipes and conduits running parallel
both above and under the grates below their feet. Occasionally they would pass
what looked like a computer terminal or other device protruding from the
bulkheads, their monitors and switches uncomfortably high for humans to
operate. Every fifty or so feet there were lighted panels in the ceiling,
casting dull shadows over everything. Looking down a cross-section as they
passed it, Shawn could see glowing cables the diameter of his arm stretched
across the deck, linking one alien device to another. The haphazardness of the
cabling presupposed some jury-rigging had been needed, and that repairs were
still pending.
“Seen some combat lately?”
Shawn asked as Major Fralok continued down the corridor.
“More than others,” the
Kafaran grunted without turning to face the commander. “Not as much as most.”
“Have you done any service
alongside Sector Command?” Melissa asked, trying to gauge how much interaction
the major had had with humans—or any other Unified member race.
“Our duties have carried us
to other fronts,” Fralok grumbled. “The Unified Collaboration isn’t the only
empire threatened by the Meltranians.”
“We’re not an empire,
Major,” she defended. “The UCS is a peaceful collection of worlds.” This caused
Fralok to stop in his tracks.
“Peaceful?” the translator
spat. “Your history of territorial conquest is well documented, not only by my
people, but by that of the many races included in your so-called collection. So
while you may be able to convince lesser life-forms of your veiled intentions,
do not fool yourself into believing that all inhabitants of the galaxy are so
easily duped.” Without turning to face her, Fralok continued on down the
passageway.
“Do you think there was an
error in translation?” Uudon asked quietly from behind Shawn.
“I think the major’s
message was loud and clear, Doctor.”
Coming to halt at the end
of the corridor, Fralok waved one of his hands over a nondescript portion of
the door frame. Other than the door opening, there was no other indication that
he had been granted access.
“Some kind of DNA coding, I
imagine,” Melissa said, answering Shawn’s unasked question. “That’s going to
severely restrict our movements.”
“You’ve got somewhere more
important to be?”
“Aren’t you the one always
saying that you need to know more than one way out of any enclosed space?”
“We’re on a Kafaran
warship, deep in their own space, with no way back to the USC or our own fleet.
And, from what I’ve seen of the layout of the computer terminals, it’s highly
doubtful I’ll be able to pilot a Kafaran ship … at least not without blowing us
up in the process. I think, for the time being, we’re pretty much at their
mercy,” he said, then turned to her and smiled. “Getting through one or two
doors is the least of my concerns right now.”
“Come!” Fralok barked,
snapping Shawn and Melissa out of their conversation. Following him through the
door, Shawn could instantly tell they were on the ship’s command deck. Unlike
the rest of this ship, this compartment had a logical layout. There was a large
screen placed on the forward bulkhead, with manned stations lining the walls.
In the center of the room was the command chair, elevated to such an extent
that if Shawn were to sit in it, his feet would have surely dangled over the
edge. As they approached, the seat swiveled to reveal another Kafaran. As he
stood to his full height of over eight feet, his scarred face looked down on
Shawn and the rest with what could only be described as contempt.
“I am Captain Ralath, and I
shall begin this mission with only one stipulation—one you will follow to the
letter or face my scorn. I am the absolute authority on this ship, and you will
do as I say, when I say. In addition, you will be assigned a security detail,
one which will accompany you at all times. If they fail to keep you in check,
not only with they suffer my justice, but so shall you. Keep to these edicts.
Am I understood?”
Shawn, Melissa and Uudon
nodded in unison. M-9 made a squawking noise from behind them, but when Shawn
turned, the droid was motionless.
Captain Ralath grunted,
hopefully as a sign of approval. “As you can see, this is a military warship,
one that I’m proud to say carries the finest assault troopers in the whole of
the Empire. This is not a pleasure craft, and you will not find many of the accommodations
you’ve likely become accustomed to in Sector Command. Likewise, I have my
orders from Commodore Savath himself, and they require me to ferry you to your
destination … nothing more beyond that.”
A silence fell between
them, and Melissa took it as the opportunity to ask a question. “And do you
know what that destination is?”
Ralath nodded slowly. “The
coordinates provided by the commodore will, if they are consistent, take the
ship to the heart of the Hellnastor system.”