A Star Rising (The Star Scout Saga Book 1)

by GARY DARBY

  “We should have met in the mount, like before,” Sada whined. “Put up audio and visual blocks. No one would have seen or heard us. Or better yet, a secure comms or computer link. Not this, it’s too much in the open.”

  “No,” Double Star replied in a brusque tone. “We’ve met like that once too often. It’s time to change. I don’t want anyone to get suspicious. Everyone knows that this is what I do to relax, so it’s perfectly natural that I’m here.

  “And by the way, if you pull at your ear one more time, it’s going to fall off into the river and become fish bait.”

  Star took a water ball from his hip pouch and popped it into his mouth. The enzymes in his saliva disintegrated the ball’s outer covering, and he swallowed the cold liquid. “You have what I asked for?” he asked, reaching for another water orb.

  Sada picked up several pebbles, rolled them in his hand before saying, “And my—”

  “The usual, with a bonus if you deliver.”

  “Not good enough,” Sada stated.

  “What! Listen, you little—”

  “You listen,” Sada answered sharply. “I have information. I have excellent information. In fact, this is so good, that you’ll be more than happy to give me what I want.”

  Double Star stared hard at the little man before answering. “I’ll need proof of this wonderful information before I pay.”

  The pasty-skinned man bobbed his head several times. “Fair enough. Three little letters. S—O—G.”

  Double Star had begun to pop another water ball, but it never reached his mouth. For a second, his hand hung midair. He had to force himself to act naturally and place the small ball in his mouth.

  He swallowed and asked, “SOG? What are you talking about? I don’t understand.”

  “You know who and what SOG is?” Sada asked.

  “Of course I know what SOG is. I’m not some idiot—”

  “Stay calm,” Sada interjected, waving a hand at the crystal blue sky. “Remember, we’re tourists enjoying the beauty of the great outdoors.” He snickered, proud of his chance to turn the tables.

  “I’m calm. Now explain.”

  “Not until I see some coins in the kitty. Big coins.”

  Glaring, the scout reached into the kayak to bring out his day-pack. He took out his palm-sized personal compu, brought up his BancLink account, and punched in some numbers. He showed the display to his companion.

  “Nice, for a start,” Sada returned and joined his device to the scout’s to receive the transfer.

  “What if I told you,” Sada inquired, “that your very own J2 was hooked into SOG’s computer system?”

  “I would tell you that you’re either inventing this,” Double Star declared, “or you haven’t a clue how Star Scout Command works. That’s impossible.”

  “Oh?” Sada replied. “Then try this. Make two comm calls. First call: your logistics section, accounting. Find out if they paid for a Spartan Five with hyper modulator, along with Level Eight co-synch and beta oscillation boards.

  “Second call: lower-level guard post. Ask the duty scout to check the log to see if two civilians were admitted to the mount yesterday. Who authorized it, who escorted them, what security access and nature of their business?”

  With apparent skepticism, Double Star stared at his companion but hooked up his communicator and made the two calls. After the last call, he ran a tongue over dry lips and turned to his fellow conspirator. “Explain.”

  Sada gave him a sarcastic smile. “Not so sure of ourselves now, are we?”

  Double Star’s visage darkened, and his nostrils flared. He started to speak, but Sada held up a hand to stop him. “The Spartan Five is the top of the line encryption device used in hardware and software for high-end computers.

  “Ultra, ultra sophisticated. Star Scout Command doesn’t use them because you don’t have the really, really, secret stuff to hide from prying eyes. Even with a Spartan Five, it still takes a very particular program before a computer tech can in-synch outside organizations into SOG.

  “No, to have your computer talk to SOG’s computer via the Spartan, you need to have their operating system downloaded to yours. That can only be done by certain individuals trained and cleared by SOG.”

  Sada gave Double Star a crooked grin. “Let me guess. Your first call: A Spartan Five paid for, with the funds going to a numbered account with no organizational details attached.

  “Second call: Two civilians admitted under personal clearance by General Rosberg.

  “Major Tomas, the general’s own aide-de-camp, escorted them. Nature of business? Nothing entered in the guard log by order of General Rosberg except that their destination was Colonel Tuul’s office.”

  Sada leaned over to ask in a sly manner, “How am I doing for guesswork?”

  He chunked a rock in the river before continuing. “Now, you can believe what you want. But that Spartan Five became active at the same time that those two civvies were in the mount; ergo, they’re SOG personnel. No other explanation fits.”

  Double Star stood immobile, staring straight at his black-clad co-conspirator. Sada squinted at Double Star, holding a hand up to shield his eyes from the lowering sun. “Now, being the smart man that you are, your next question is, what are they talking about over that very sophisticated device?”

  Double Star eased himself down to sit on a nearby rounded boulder. He took a deep breath and blinked his eyes several times. He glanced up at Sada. “You’re right, I am smart and that’s the exact question I had in mind.”

  “And a good question it is,” Sada responded while he held out his compu. “But the answer is going to need another throw into the pot.”

  Double Star clenched his fist and his eyes grew hard. He hated working with this nauseating character, but the man was an absolute genius, and he needed his computer wizardry. He punched some numbers in and showed the man the display.

  “Good, but not good enough,” Sada returned.

  Double Star stabbed in a series of numbers and held up the display.

  “Excellent!” Sada exclaimed. “We’re back in business.”

  He chuckled. “Given your reaction and the fact that we want to appear to be having a delightful conversation about this and that, I suggest you take another deep breath and use all of those expert stress-reducing techniques the Star Scouts teach you.”

  “Go on,” Double Star returned. “My patience is wearing very thin.”

  Sada shrugged and replied crisply, “Have it your way. Your J2 is tied into SOG’s Omega-Taurus system.”

  Double Star came to his feet. Neck muscles taut, he sucked in a breath and demanded in a fierce whisper, “Omega-Taurus? He has access to OT? You’re certain of this?”

  “Of course. There’s no doubt.”

  “How do you—”

  “Know?” the computer genius replied in a matter-of-fact voice. “Anybody worth their salt has tried to hack OT. The code is unique. You see it once, you never forget. When I tapped into the J2’ s computer, it was right there.”

  He rocked back and forth several times, his grin wide as if he had told a good joke. “Oh yes, he’s got access to OT.”

  Double Star had to will his legs to stand firm so that he didn’t slide to the soft sand at his feet. He stood dumbfounded, speechless at this revelation. The Omega-Taurus system was the literal center of a vast intelligence network that SOG operated.

  It was like the human nervous system that reaches out to every cell to bring back information to the brain. Only in this case, Omega-Taurus reached across light-years to every corner of the Imperium, collecting tens of thousands of pieces of data.

  In turn, SOG correlated, analyzed, and distributed the information on a need-to-know basis to governmental and political entities.

  He knew about it only because of his high place in Star Scout Command. But his knowledge was not the practical variety, he had never viewed Omega-Taurus data.

  It was ironclad standing policy that Star Sc
out Command did not cross into the political arena and therefore, no information from SOG ever came directly to them, even to General Rosberg.

  His mind raced until he croaked out, “Do you know what—”

  “He’s passing to them and vice versa?” Sada asked. Double Star nodded in unspoken reply. The skinny man held up his compu and sighed in a wistful air, “If only I could, then you’d be adding a lot more zeroes to your last deposit.”

  He shrugged while commenting, “So—I can give you some information, but sadly, no, not all.”

  Double Star narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”

  The little man explained. “The Spartan has a gatekeeper subroutine. It controls the incoming and outgoing data. You have to get past it first to get into the system. I tried, but couldn’t.

  “However, I did get lucky because there must’ve been a microsecond burp in the encryption flow, and I accessed one piece of a partially encrypted file. Somehow the fact that there was an encryption failure wasn’t found at either end.”

  He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a second micro compu. He handed it over to Double Star. “Doesn’t look like much of anything to me though.”

  Double Star snatched the little machine and started reading. He fixed his stare on the familiar pattern, Karos, Laron, Markham Five, and Simbard’s Planet. Then his breath caught when he spotted Veni on the list.

  Star hadn’t known what Tuul and Marrel were working on together, and his meeting with this man was to find out if it had anything to do with the organization. He stared long and hard at the compu data. This wasn’t about the Gadion Faction.

  He was the common denominator in all the information.

  They were after him.

  The unexplained changes in orders, mission and personnel switches, misappropriation of resources, the false and misleading reports, it was all there.

  Double Star had always thought he had buried the incriminating evidence too deep for anyone to find. He now realized that had been a false assumption. With the right questions and data correlation it was possible to bring it all to light.

  He hadn’t felt this stomach-tightening constriction since his last real mission Out There when he came face to face with a six-meter-tall, five-hundred-kilogram Arkkar Bear.

  And now he understood why Rosberg had kept this away from him from the very beginning and had only met with Tuul and Marrel. Rosberg suspected him. What had tipped the general off wasn’t clear, but his suspicions had forced him to isolate Double Star from Tuul’s and Marrel’s true activities.

  But fortune smiled on him, for his companion had uncovered their plot. He placed another water ball in his mouth.

  Veni.

  Had the suspicion begun there? That had been a bad decision. He’d had to do too much explaining; too much cover-up and now it had come full circle and all the evidence pointed to him.

  Double Star rose and paced on the beach. He turned to see Sada staring at him with an intent expression. With a frown that barely broke his other wrinkles, the yellow-haired man remarked, “Maybe I was wrong. The way you’re acting that must be pretty hot stuff. I think I should charge you after all—”

  Double Star cut him off by reaching out and grabbing his arm. “You’re sure there’s no way you can get in and see what else Tuul is passing to them?”

  With apparent disdain, Sada reached up, pushed Star’s hand way, and retrieved his micro compu. “I’m sure.”

  He laughed and raised one shoulder. “If I had the resources that SOG commands, maybe. But not with the stuff I have.”

  Double Star walked to the water’s edge and for several minutes let his eyes follow the river’s swirls and eddies. He couldn’t just ignore this, he had to find out how close they were to the whole truth. With tight jaws and clenched fists, he whirled around.

  “Return to the mount,” he ordered. “I’ll be in touch in a few days. You’ll get what you need to find out exactly what’s in Tuul’s files.”

  Sada sat transfixed, staring at Star with a wide-eyed expression.

  Star held up one finger and stabbed it toward Sada. “No questions, not now, and not later. I want to know what Tuul is up to and that’s all you need to know.”

  Still peering at Star, Sada rose, brushed at his clothes and answered. “You’re paying so who am I to question.”

  Double Star watched Sada head up the canyon’s arroyo trail that led to the top of the red and yellow banded rock wall. He turned to gaze at the ripple-laced water.

  The real question was, how close were Rosberg and Tuul to the actual truth? Did they know all or were they still putting the evidence together?

  His instincts told him that they didn’t have it all pieced together, or he wouldn’t be standing on this beach. That meant he still had time to act.

  Since he couldn’t contact Peller, he would speak with his other contact in the organization to let them know the situation. They would help him. They would . . .

  He stopped in mid thought. A piercing, cold wind seemed to penetrate the desert heat.

  No. That was the one thing he couldn’t do.

  His savage kick at the water sent a sparkling spray skyward. Going to the organization would be a deadly mistake. As long as they thought he was clean and still an asset, he could expect appropriate rewards.

  But let even a hint come out that he was compromised and—

  An audio signal from his communicator interrupted his thoughts. He recognized the tone as coming from Rosberg’s personal aide. He took a deep breath and opened the channel.

  “Go ahead,” he responded.

  “Major Tomas here, I have a message from General Rosberg.

  “The message reads: On my personal orders, Colonel Tuul and Lieutenant Colonel Marrel will conduct a joint staff study of mission and intelligence operations with selected units.

  “They will be out of garrison for several weeks. Lieutenant Colonel Witte is Acting J2 effective immediately and brevet promoted accordingly.

  “I will be absent from the headquarters for five to seven days inspecting the Ganymede training site as well as observing Star Academy cadets conduct low-gravity training. My weekly staff brief is canceled until I return. Rosberg.”

  “Did you get that?” Major Tomas asked.

  “Yes,” he replied slowly. “Was there any additional message for me?”

  “No, just that.”

  “Understood.” He signed off and thought, what in the world is a joint staff study of mission and intelligence operations? He had no idea. The more he considered the general’s message, the more questions came to his mind.

  His face hardened as he came to the conclusion that this was Rosberg’s attempt to cover Tuul’s and Marrel’s actual undertaking—to investigate his current and past activities.

  There must be critical pieces of evidence that lay Out There that they were going to collect to use against him on their return.

  A dark idea came to his mind that he at first dismissed but which persisted until he came to terms with its evil intent. The malicious thought wormed itself into his mind until he not only accepted it but embraced the foul idea.

  For the briefest moment, the light from the scout oath broke through the darkness, but he pushed it aside. He had stopped being a Star Scout long ago and became someone and something else entirely.

  He reset his communicator and opened the channel. A few seconds later came, “Witte, J2.”

  He identified himself and said, “I just received the general’s message, has Colonel Tuul left yet?”

  “’Fraid so,” the woman answered. “Booked out of here a while ago to catch the o’dark thirty shuttle to Luna. Something I can do for you?”

  “Err, no,” Star replied. “If he hadn’t left, I was just going to touch bases with him about the upcoming Castor and Pollux operation. The last report showed some severe gravity fluxes in the deployment area.”

  The woman replied, “We discussed that and we’ve already got a series of surv
ey drones enroute. Do you want to see the reports when we complete the analysis?”

  “Good. That will be fine.” He hesitated as if another idea had come to him.

  “You know the general must have ordered them to deploy so fast that I didn’t see anything on their route and destination. Did Colonel Tuul leave an itinerary behind by any chance, for contact purposes?”

  “In all honesty,” Witte replied, “he blasted out of here pretty fast after filling me in on his projects and deadlines. Told me that if I needed to get ahold of him to query the CG, he’d know. But nothing posted on his flight plan.”

  Double Star arched his eyebrows at that. “That’s very odd. Any idea why?”

  “Just a hunch. I’ve sent a lot of data to him concerning Sector Eleven and Bartley’s operations in the Helix. It’s no secret that they’ve been having significant problems, so I think the CG is sending Colonel Tuul and Marrel out for a surprise inspection on Bartley.

  “Beggin’ your pardon, but I don’t think the CG wanted anything in the open that would tip off Bartley.”

  Double Star blinked a couple of times. She didn’t realize it, of course, but her assessment tied in with his previous discovery. Yes, the chances were more than good that Tuul and Marrel were headed to Sectors Ten and Eleven.

  And with the latest activity in the Helix, well, if he were them, that’s where he would head, too.

  He nodded to himself before speaking, “Thank you. If I need to find them, I’ll send a message through channels to the general. Out.”

  The conversation had settled the question in his mind and solidified the only course of action he now had.

  Double Star walked a few steps down the small beach to the river. The silt-laden water pulsed and gurgled in its downstream rush toward another narrow canyon.

  Currents within currents pushed and pulled the water in different directions. Tiny flows merged into larger ones then broke apart when they hit hidden underwater rocks.

  It was a watery chaos that matched his own churning emotions.