Dalian Crystals

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Dalian Crystals Page 6

by Barbara Robertson


  Petrov ordered his men to land two fighters on the deck they had just blasted to rescue any SB5 survivors. When the fighters landed, Major S’Loc and his men rushed aboard the Rebel fighters, sat on the hard floor, and were flown to the Rebel command destroyer. The rescued men were weak from hunger and thirst, and lack of oxygen. Major S’Loc and his rescued men were treated for malnutrition and dehydration for one week. Then, the Major resumed his duty as Chief Engineer of the Rebel destroyer.

  Duma Wat was very angry the Rebel Squadron leader Petrov used a plasma disrupter arc cannon on his recently-restored SB5. One unwise decision too many had been made by the hot-headed Petrov. Duma Wat only ordered the Borgund Ranger killed. He did not order the very costly ES warbird destroyed. The ES was a prize Duma Wat could have used against Imperial ships successfully. But not now.

  Months of arduous work and over one million credits had been spent restoring SB5 as a full-service base. Any chance of using SB5 as a potent threat against Home World was now gone. Duma Wat shouted at Petrov and demoted him, and ordered him transported back to K’Halon Prime the same day.

  A former Imperial Army Captain, the Rebel Petrov had succeeded only in incurring the wrath of his leader. Petrov was a brutal, domineering leader who trusted no one, not even the “Savior of the People,” Duma Wat. Petrov was assigned an untrained group of miscreant traitors and escaped felons, to carry out small incursions against Imperial Army bases and installations on K’Halon Prime, going forward. Saddled by demotion and humiliation, Petrov drank his beloved vodka even more frequently than before. No one respected Petrov now, but they feared him.

  Petrov grew to resent his reassignment on K’Halon Prime, making small raids in the long, freezing winter, up to his belt in snow. He loathed Duma Wat for demoting him. But he hated Emperor P’Lau the most, for being such a spineless, soft-hearted Emperor, who could not bring himself to order his half-brother executed.

  VI

  K’Halon Prime

  Starlight pierced the blackness of the moonless night, forming the canopy of twinkling lights above him. Adventure and glory awaited the young man who walked the road towards the celebration in the city. His future and life’s calling beckoned him to cross over into the unknown.

  Few things demonstrate life’s major events as markedly as graduation. This morning Dan’L graduated Phase 3 Training in a private, yet uplifting ceremony, and was now an official Borgund Ranger Novice, a Faithful Son of the Emperor P’Lau. A Ranger was the top level of the Warrior Class he was born into, and it was a significant achievement. He was a tall, dark-haired young man, the good-looking son of a beautiful Mother and a handsome Father. Dan’L felt like the luckiest man on K’Halon Prime.

  Next week he would be fitted for his breastplate and backplate armor, coded to his DNA, and full of hidden weapons. He would also receive his plasma sword that fit inside his backplate, its handle also coded to his DNA. The powerful, fiery white plasma sword was the trademark weapon of the Rangers for over 200 years. It could cut through solid steel, and slice human tissue easily. The Rangers were the only ones trusted with the powerful energy weapon.

  In his entire life, Dan’L saw his Mother cry three times: when his sister K’Rissa was born; last week, when the ceremony for his Father’s death ended, and the guests left; and today, at his Ranger graduation. Dan’L now joined his family as top-tier members of the Warrior Class. His Mother Javette was a Master Commander Shi’Lon Ranger, the “Beloved Daughter and Emissary of Emperor P’Lau.” Today would have been perfect if his late Father, Master Commander K’Ser, could have been there.

  “The last thing your Father would have wanted is for his Son to let a past event drag you down. We cannot change what happened in the past. We must continue forward; ever forward, Dan’L. I want you to celebrate your achievement with your friends tonight, and enjoy yourself,” Javette said. She handed him two gift boxes with a big smile. “For my Ranger son,” she said proudly.

  Mother gave him a new jacket and boots for his graduation gifts. Both were coded to his DNA, and only Dan’L could wear them without a severe series of electric shocks. I’ll never have to worry about my pockets being picked in this dark green jacket, Dan’L mused. Inside each front pocket was a 100-credit gold coin. The boots contained power cells inside the soles, enabling him to run even faster than he normally ran. But tonight, he wanted to walk, and savor every minute of his celebration.

  Dan’L hopped onto the moving sidewalk on the edge of Centralia and strolled along, heading for the downtown entertainment district. His friends were having a graduation party for him at a local club called “The Rogue Wave.” He saw the club marquee flashing from a block away. Music with heavy drum beats and bass poured from the club, adding to his excitement.

  The hard cider flowed all night. Dan’L wisely skipped the neon-colored, smoking shots of hard liquor offered to him, not wanting to pay too dearly tomorrow for his party tonight. He danced with several girls and met even more at the bar. Tonight, the world was his. Dan’L had a well-deserved blast. His friends made sure the Emperor’s newest Ranger partied his brains out.

  When the Rogue Wave closed, everyone said ‘Good-night,’ and meandered towards home, a happy crowd of good friends. Dan’L walked down the main street for a couple of blocks, and then turned to take the moving sidewalk back home, to the Royal Palace compound.

  “Hey, Ranger!” A man shouted. Dan’L turned in response, and received a face full of stun gas sprayed by a stranger at him. He struggled to fight the stranger for a few seconds, then collapsed, unconscious.

  The stench of his own vomit greeted Dan’L when he began to regain consciousness. He had thrown up all over his new jacket, and more than once, it looked like. Where was he? His eyes could not yet focus. The place smelled musty and oily, like an old motor. The ropes around his torso and feet kept him from moving his cramped body. How long had he been out? A strange vibration on his back and butt indicated he was on a craft of some kind, probably a shuttle. He felt sick to his stomach, and rolled over.

  “Boss, he’s waking up. Aw, shit! He’s puking again!” A dark bearded man with a deep scar on his cheek said. The scarred man jumped back to avoid the hurling vomit, but got some on his pants and shoes, anyway. He back-handed Dan’L’s face and cursed at him.

  “You had fun, eh, Ranger? Lots of hard cider. It’s all over your nice, new jacket and boots,” the Boss said, laughing at Dan’L. “Clean him up. Our Client won’t like it if he is brought before him covered in his own puke.” The scarred man complained, and got hit on the back of his head by the Boss for it.

  Another man came over to Dan’L and stabbed his leg with a hypo pen. “For your stomach,” he said, and wiped Dan’L down with a big, dirty towel. The scarred man wiped off his new boots too well, Dan’L noted. When he was sort of cleaned up, the men started taunting him.

  “He’s paying a lot of credits for you, boy. Who are you anyway?” The third man asked. Dan’L tried to focus on his face, but couldn’t. “You won’t need this nice green jacket. It will look better on me.” The man reached for his zipper pull.

  “Don’t touch it,” a weak Dan’L warned, but the man slapped his face. He grabbed the zipper pull and received an electronic shock, knocking him back against the side of the shuttle.

  “Leave it alone, dumb ass. He’s coded it, you stupid jerk. Only he can wear it,” the Boss calmly said. Watching the scarred man reach for Dan’L’s boots, the Boss warned, “I said leave him alone. Our Client doesn’t want him harmed. It’s in the contract, moron.” He walked forward to his seat, shaking his head.

  Within a few minutes, Dan’L could focus better, and he assessed his surroundings. He was strapped in the cargo hold of an old shuttle. There was no light outside the small porthole; it was still night. “Where are you taking me? Who is your Client? And what does he want? I don’t know anything about anybody,” Dan’L said weakly.

  “Shut up, boy. You’ll find out soon enough,” the scarred man said, and
backhanded his face again. The men all laughed at him. Dan’L looked around the cargo hold, and saw seats with slashed cushions, filthy portholes, and the emergency exit hatch. Two moldy parachutes were hanging near the exit hatch, next to a first aid kit.

  Dan’L knew he had to escape. Whoever their Client was, and why he was kidnapped, it was not for anything good. Slowly gathering his wits about him, Dan’L moved his fingers inside the cuffs of his new, green leather jacket. Mother wouldn’t give her only Son a plain jacket, he reminded himself. Dan’L felt inside a little farther and his fingers touched a metal edge; a small knife was concealed inside the seam.

  The shuttle flew on through the night, while Dan’L worked the small, thin knife blade quickly and methodically through his plastic cuff ties, and then his torso ropes. Taking care not to cut the ropes completely and have them fall off him, Dan’L sliced his bindings. When the men began talking among themselves about their reward, Dan’L pretended to dose off. Then he quickly cut the ropes around his legs.

  Dan’L had no idea where they were or how long they’d been flying, or the shuttle’s speed. All he knew was he had to get out of there. When he felt the shuttle slow and start its descent, he bolted for the cargo door, grabbed an emergency chute next to the first aid kit, pulled open the emergency exit hatch lock, and jumped out of the shuttle in the darkness.

  He stuffed the knife into his trouser pocket and fumbled with the emergency chute during his free fall. How high up was he? All was blackness below him. No city lights. No lights anywhere at all. He managed to put the chute on and pulled the ripcord, and held on tightly. The shuttle doubled back and shined its landing lights looking for him. Dan’L could not tell where the ground was, and could not steer or land properly, as he had been trained in Phase 2.

  He fell into the trees, and got scratched repeatedly by branches. The ground soon stopped his fall, but Dan’L turned his ankle when he landed. He cursed loudly and grabbed his ankle in pain. Then he gathered the chute fabric from the lower branches of a fir tree, and hobbled off into the darkness. Trees. Lots of fir trees. He could smell them ahead, but couldn’t see a thing. He stuffed the torn chute under some bushes and continued.

  K’Halon Prime had millions of square kilometers of dense forests. One entire side of the large planet was forested, and the other side was barren desert. He could be anywhere on the forested side. Dan’L felt a pain in his neck. It was a bleeding gash where his identification chip was cut from his neck. No one could track him. In the total darkness, Dan’L controlled his instinct to panic, and relied instead upon his excellent survival training. He was a Ranger. He would succeed at any cost.

  Dan’L focused on the North Star. Travel straightaway, he told himself. He heard the shuttle’s engines sounding farther away. Wherever he was, the kidnappers expected him to be traveling south or southwest, not north. Good. He made his way through the thick forest, tree to tree, hobbling best as he could on his sprained – or broken – ankle. He tripped on a broken branch. He decided to use it as a crutch to help him move. The power cells in his boots helped his hobbling and made it somewhat easier, but he could not run at all. All night he hopped from tree to tree.

  After a seemingly endless, hobbled hike, the dawn began to break. Forest; the boundless forest surrounded him. No sign of a city or town anywhere, just millions of trees. Dan’L hopped ahead, realizing he needed water, rest, and a splint for his ankle. As if in a dream, the outline of a cabin came into view. It stimulated his adrenaline, and he hobbled there quickly. The forest cleared for a small cabin, and an adjacent dirt landing pad. There were no vehicles in sight, no lights, and no signs of people. Perfect.

  Dan’L hopped to the cabin door and knocked, but no one answered. He pulled the latch and the door opened to a small, two-roomed cabin, sparsely furnished. There was no food printer; no canned food on the open shelves; no toilet; not even a working faucet. He called out, “Hello? Hello? I need some help,” and then collapsed on the floor, unconscious.

  The young girl approached the body on the floor cautiously, holding her small laser rifle defensively. “Are you okay, Mister? Are you hurt?” She softly asked, and stood near his body. She knew not to come too close to a stranger. He moved his foot a little, and she stepped back.

  Dan’L opened his eyes, and saw a tall, blonde teen-age girl standing a prudent distance from him. “I’m sorry. I’m lost. I stumbled here, trying to find someone to help me, or let me use their comm link,” he said hoarsely. “I need some water, please,” he whispered, and began to cough. His throat was so dry.

  The girl got a bottle of water out of her backpack and handed it to him. She said, “This is a dry cabin. Off the grid. No facilities or power, Mister. Are you a fugitive, or a murderer? Nobody comes here. Nobody but me.”

  “My name is Dan’L. I just graduated Ranger training. I’m no criminal. But I am running from some men who kidnapped me,” he said, taking the offered bottle of water from her. He downed it in seconds, and then wiped his mouth. “Thank you. I’ll leave and get out of your hair. I don’t want to cause trouble for you.” He tried to stand, and fell.

  “Let me help you, Dan’L,” she offered, and helped him stand. He hopped to a chair, holding onto her arm. “My name is D ’Anna. This is my cabin. It’s my refuge,” she admitted. She watched him take off his boot and sock. His ankle was swollen and purple. She went to her pack and took a scanner out, and then scanned his lower leg. “A bad sprain, but no broken bones. You’ll be okay in a few days, Dan’L.”

  She went to a shelf and located a first-aid kit, and said, “If you can break a plank off that chair, we can make a splint for you. I’ll tape it.” Together, they fashioned a splint for his ankle. They chatted for a few minutes while he put his sock and boot on, and left the boot unfastened for the splint. Then the sound of a shuttle was heard as it approached the cabin.

  D ‘Anna quickly walked to the cold fireplace and moved a stone, and the wall parted a bit. “In here, Dan’L. Behind the fireplace. Go down the steps and don’t move or make any sound,” she cautioned. “Hopefully, I’ll get rid of them.”

  Dan’L trusted D’Anna and did as she said, hopping down the dark stairs. “Light sticks are on the left, but wait until they leave to strike one,” she whispered. D’Anna quickly lit a small tinder fire in the fireplace after closing the secret opening, and sat on the now-broken chair backwards.

  “Hey! Anybody home?” A rough male voice asked.

  “What do you want? Go away!” D’Anna shouted back at him. Three men opened her cabin door and saw the girl sitting there, a laser rifle pointed at them.

  “Easy now, girlie. We’re looking for a fugitive. A man in a green jacket and black pants. Seen him?” The scarred man demanded, eyeing the young girl.

  “Nobody lives here but my brothers and me. Anybody else comes around and they’ll shoot him. Or you, if they find you. Now get out!” D’Anna yelled, raising her rifle at them.

  “Okay, okay. No need to shoot. We’re gone,” the Boss said, and they left. D’Anna went to the narrow window and watched three men board the shuttle, and fly off.

  She pulled out her scanner and swept the area. The men were gone, but she knew the bastards would be back. They’d come for her next time. She stomped out the tinder fire and touched the stone. Gathering her pack and rifle, D’Anna walked down the steps to Dan’L. She touched another stone and the opening closed tightly again.

  “Nice friends you got, Dan’L. We’d better go now,” D’Anna said. She led him through the underground dirt tunnel, helping him hop for nearly a half kilometer, until they reached stairs leading up. She helped him up the stairs, and then raised the hatch above their head. Several people were inside the room, watching her come up the stairs. Pistols were pointing at them.

  “This is Dan’L, the man who found the cabin,” D’Anna explained. “He says he’s a Ranger, and was kidnapped. The men who were after him found the cabin.” They lowered their pistols and cautiously watched Dan’L sit in t
he offered chair. They watched D’Anna tend to his injured ankle, and try to make him comfortable.

  Dan’L was weak, dirty, and injured, but he patiently told his story to them, and asked for a comm link to call his Mother to come get him. “I can honestly tell you I have no idea why I was captured. But I’ve done nothing wrong. I graduated Ranger Phase 3 Training on Friday. My Commander Superior G’Rosk will vouch for me, or my Mother. She’s a Shi’Lon Ranger, Master Commander Javette,” he explained. “Please. Can you help me?” He looked so innocent.

  The oldest man walked over to Dan’L, watching him suspiciously. He downed a shot of liquor in his hand, and grilled D’Anna about her discovery of Dan’L several times. The poor girl was verbally reprimanded repeatedly for bringing an unknown, injured man to their apartment, and potentially exposing their whereabouts. “But Petrov, we always help the innocents, you said,” D’Anna said, trying to justify her decision to help the young Ranger Novice.

  Dan’L was just out of training, and without any real field experience. But, as he looked at the faces of the people in the apartment, it suddenly dawned on him: these people were Rebels, the very people against whom he would be sent to fight. The look on his face betrayed him.

  Petrov noticed his countenance change immediately, and said to Dan’L, “So. The curtain lifts now, eh, young man? You are not a full Ranger yet, but a Novice. You have no plasma sword, black armor, or cloak to conceal your moves,” he said, watching Dan’L. “If we help you, we alert the Empire to our whereabouts, our safe house, and tunnels. I should kill you now.” The man quickly belted another shot glass of liquor, and slammed the empty glass on the table.

 

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