The Exxar Chronicles: Book 02 - Emissary

by Neal Jones

  "A working lunch, commander?"

  Mariah glanced up, startled, and then she smiled. "Yes. Always. I've been reading Commander Benson's reports of their initial discoveries on Gateway Prime. Have you read any of this?"

  "Is that an invitation for me to join you?"

  "Sure."

  "No, I haven't." Gabriel motioned to a waitress who was delivering an order at a nearby table. "Actually, I did skim the outline and the first couple reports. The rest is still waiting in a file on my terminal. I've been too busy lately to catch up."

  "It's amazing! Now that Ilkara is out of quarantine, I can't wait to bend her ear on this."

  Gabriel nodded, and then gave his order to the waitress. After the girl left, he said, "That's another thing on my list. I've been meaning to stop by her quarters to see how she's doing."

  "Kiran told me this morning after our staff briefing that he was going to ask her to help with the hypergate." Decev had lain her pad beside her plate, and she tapped it with one finger. "According to what Ilkara told McKenna and Benson, we should be able to access all the hypergates in the network, not just Gateway Prime."

  Gabriel nodded. "I started reading Kiran's report a few minutes ago, and I decided it was time for lunch instead."

  Mariah chuckled dryly. "Yes, he does get a little long-winded and technical in his details."

  The waitress returned with Gabriel's beer, and he took a sip. Mariah eyed the glass.

  "Fudging the regulations a little, are we?"

  "One beer at lunch is not a big deal."

  Instead of responding, the science officer took another bite of her alfredo.

  Gabriel swept his gaze out across the restaurant, glancing at the rapidly expanding crowd below on the first floor, and then at the entrance, and he almost dropped his beer. "No!" he muttered.

  "What?" Decev swallowed her pasta and followed Gabriel's gaze. He was looking at a human woman who had just entered the restaurant. She was weaving through the crowd to a table near the bar where two officers in engineering uniforms were waving her over. "Somebody you know?"

  Gabriel shook his head. "Thought it was at first." He took another sip of his beer.

  But because she was a telepath, Mariah instantly sensed that Marc was lying. He knew exactly who that woman was, and he was now uncomfortable. He took longer sips of his beer, and he kept glancing anxiously towards the stairs, looking for the waitress.

  "Okay, Marc, who is she?"

  "Who?"

  "Oh come on. You have a lousy poker face, and" – she motioned to his glass – "you're almost done with your beer. It's only been five minutes. Who is she?"

  Gabriel sighed as he pushed his glass away and folded his hands on the table. He resisted another urge to look for the waitress. "Her name is Laura Sysko."

  Decev furrowed her brow. "Name doesn't sound familiar. I know she's one of the engineers from FCE who's out here to study the hypergate." She glanced over the railing to the table where Laura was seated. It was difficult from this angle to get a good look at her. "How is it that you know her?"

  "The academy. My sophomore and junior years. We were almost married."

  "Really??" Mariah's eyebrows shot up. "I had no idea."

  Marc glowered at his science officer. She was enjoying this way too much. "This isn't funny. I know that I have a girl on every outpost from here to the galactic rim, but there's at least a dozen others that I would rather bump into by accident than her!"

  "A dozen others? Tell me, Marc, exactly how many girls do you have tucked away at all these ports? A hundred? Hundred and fifty?"

  The waitress suddenly appeared. "Ham and Swiss on rye, extra mustard, no pickles. You want fry sauce or ketchup?"

  "Actually, could I get this to go? And a Pepsi to drink? Thanks."

  "Sure. Be right back with a box." She set the payment pad next to the plate.

  Gabriel placed his credit card on the pad's scanner, and then gulped down the last of his beer. "For your information, commander, there's one hundred and sixty-two, not counting Commander Benson. Laura was the first."

  "And the only one you never told me about." Mariah honestly couldn't tell if he was joking about the exact number or not. "You're really going to leave now? I want to know the details."

  "Of all one hundred and sixty-two? That's going to take more than a lunch hour, commander."

  "Very funny."

  The waitress returned with a to-go box.

  "Enjoy the rest of your lunch. I have to get back to work."

  Mariah watched him leave, shaking her head. She tried once more to get a good look at Laura, but the woman had switched places with one of her seatmates, and two more had joined the group. The science officer grabbed her compad and pulled up Kiran's report from last week. She highlighted Laura's name and accessed her bio information. Unfortunately, there was little detail, and it pertained only to her work history with the FCE. The science officer finished her pasta, paid for her meal, and then descended the same set of stairs that Gabriel had. She was tempted to sneak another look in Laura's direction, but then scolded herself. Why was she so desperate to get a good look at one of Marc's ex-girlfriends?

  And yet she just couldn't help one last glance towards Laura's table as she left Grax's and stepped onto the promenade.

  ( 4 )

  "This is unbelievable," Navarr muttered.

  "What is?"

  The security chief glanced up to see Lieutenant Ritano standing in her office doorway. "Have you looked at Thalor Grax's file?"

  "Not yet." He walked around her desk to peer at the screen from over her right shoulder.

  Navarr scowled at him. "Do you mind?" She motioned to one of the chairs in front of her desk.

  "You really aren't going to warm up to me, are you?" Jeff plopped himself into a chair and leaned back, folding his hands behind his head.

  "I just don't like people reading over my shoulder." She downloaded Grax's file onto a compad and tossed it to him. "Mister Grax has quite a colorful record. He's been expelled from at least five star systems, and I'd bet my poker winnings from last week that for every charge on his record, there's at least five more that he got away with."

  Jeff skimmed the list and frowned in puzzlement. "This rap sheet goes back twenty years." He returned to the beginning of the file where Grax's bio information was displayed. "He's fifty-two? I would never have guessed it."

  "Wolcott's therapy, Jeff. What part of the galaxy have you been living in?"

  "A little snippy today, aren't we? Lack of sleep? Did your vibrator break?"

  "Did you have a specific reason for invading my solitude? Your shift doesn't start for another two hours."

  Jeff shrugged. "No reason. Just wanted to see how you've been."

  "I've been fine, thanks." She pressed her commlink. "Lieutenant Bautista, please come to the office."

  "Speaking of my shift, how long am I going to be stuck on delta watch?"

  "Why? Is there some sports series that's airing right now that you're desperate to see?"

  "Only the gravball playoffs. But who wants to see those? Besides, I can just stop by Grax's after my shift and catch the highlights."

  Navarr smiled. "I agree. So what seems to be the problem?"

  "You really are that petty, aren't you?"

  "Me? Petty? Nonsense. I think your abilities as an officer on my security team are best served by stationing you in section seventeen on delta shift. Anything else you'd like to discuss, lieutenant?" Navarr grabbed her compad and stood. "I have to go inspect Grax's brothel."

  "Oh, by all means, don't let me keep you." Jeff rose as well, just as Bautista entered the office from the pair of doors to the left of Navarr's desk.

  Navarr smiled as she watched her ex-husband leave her office, and Bautista shook his head.

  "How long are you going to keep torturing him?"

  The security chief feigned serious thought. "For as long as he's willing to play the game, I suppose." She grabbed her comp
ad and headed for the door. As she passed Ritano's chair she tossed the pad he'd left in it to Bautista. "Read up on Grax while I'm gone. I want to do a little more digging into his past. Find out if there's any outstanding warrants for his arrest."

  "Yes, ma'am."

  The ride to the promenade was a short one, and Navarr threaded her way through the crowds of civilians and soldiers, marveling at a group of tourists who were snapping pictures. What was so exciting and glamorous about a military outpost? Especially the promenade? It was only four levels and nowhere near as exotic or expansive as some of the malls on the Olympus colonies or the resort planet of Isis-four.

  Grax's brothel occupied the storefront adjacent to his restaurant, and it was two levels. Regulations and decency standards required that there be no sexual pictures or slogans of any kind displayed on the exterior. Same for the lobby. For all intents and purposes, the brothel – from the outside – couldn't look any different than a law office or a retail store. Thus far, Navarr was impressed with how well Grax had adhered to the rules. The holo-sign above the main entrance stated that this was a massage parlor. The interior of the lobby was sparsely – but tastefully – decorated. It reminded Chris of a waiting room in a doctor's office, complete with a perky, humanoid female receptionist behind the large, heavy desk that took up an entire corner. She glanced up as Navarr entered and smiled warmly.

  "Good afternoon, lieutenant commander. Thalor is expecting you. He'll be out soon."

  "Thank you."

  Navarr cast her gaze from one end of the lobby to the other, ensuring that nothing was out of place or violated regulations, and then annotated as such on her compad. Grax appeared moments later, and he greeted the security chief a smile and a handshake.

  "Commander, how are you?"

  "I'm fine, thanks." Navarr couldn't stand Grax. He had a personality that reminded her of a used hovercar salesman. She should know. Her uncle was one, and when Chris had attended the last family reunion, which was just before her academy graduation, he had attempted to convince her to invest in his business. "Let's make this quick," she said, marching towards the door that Grax has just come through.

  The brothel's layout resembled an old fashioned hotel suite; a long hall with a dozen doors on either side. At the end of the corridor was a PTL that led to the second floor. The door to each room was open, and the workers – "prostitutes" was an antiquated term, as well as a pejorative one – were lined up along either side of the hallway. No two were of the same species, and Chris walked up one row and down the other, inspecting Grax's employees as a general inspecting her troops. Each worker presented his/her/its ID card for the security officer to scan, and it was her responsibility to make sure that everything in their file matched what was in her database. When she was finished with the twenty-four employees on this floor, she and Grax ascended to the second floor and the process began all over again. Two rooms were empty, and one of the workers hadn't been to the infirmary for a scheduled checkup. Navarr noted the latter item, marking it as a level two violation, and then handed her pad to Grax for him to sign.

  "Get Mister Chome to the infirmary for a checkup in the next three days. I'll be back then to collect the report. Other than that, everything seems in order."

  "Thank you, commander."

  Grax was about to say more – probably some lame attempt at offering her a discount with one of his workers – but Navarr cut him off by turning on her heel and striding quickly towards the exit. Back on the promenade, as she maneuvered through the lunch crowd that was pouring into Grax's restaurant, she was focused on her pad screen, skimming a report of a break-in that had occurred at one of the ceramic shops during the graveyard shift. A pair of hands appeared out of nowhere to stop her short, and when she looked up, she found herself staring at the chest of an EarthCorps uniform. The name patch said "Eppler".

  "Sorry, commander, but I couldn't get out of your path in time. You always walk that fast?"

  Navarr glanced at the colored trim on the collar and sleeves. "No, doctor, I don't. I'm just in a hurry, that's all. Excuse me."

  She averted his gaze and returned to her reading as she continued on her way. Sam watched her go, intrigued and amused.

  ( 5 )

  Chancellor Kroth sat back and sipped his wine before giving his complements to Keeya, the wife of Chief Minister Arius Ronnd. Maliston's wife, Nurra, added her thanks to her husband's.

  "The meat was perfectly cooked, Keeya."

  "Thank you." Keeya Ronnd was a small, timid woman who appeared all the more diminutive when sitting next to her tall, masculine husband. Arius was a beefy man who always reminded Maliston of Ambassador Vorik, and he hid a smile behind the rim of his cup as he observed the pair sitting across from him. He had known them both long enough to remember when Arius had once been late to dinner because of a meeting with Kroth, and the chief minister had been literally fearful of his wife's reaction. He had scurried from the chancellor's office like a beaten cat. It was no secret among the Quorum who was really in charge of this household.

  "Maliston, will you join me upstairs in the sun room? I have a fresh box of cigars from Bajin Prime."

  Keeya rolled her eyes at Nurra. "And we shall pretend that we care nothing for the politics that will no doubt dominate your discussion. We're little more than housewives, aren't we, Nurra? We have no use for such talk."

  "Of course not. And if there's some of that spice cake left, I would love another piece."

  The women stood, and Keeya motioned to the kitchen. "I believe there's more than one piece left."

  A pair of servants entered and began to clear the table. The men stood. "Our wives think they're quite clever, don't they?" Arius observed dryly.

  Maliston chuckled as he refilled his cup. "And yet we would be incomplete without them."

  "Indeed."

  Arius led the chancellor to the stairs, and they ascended in silence to the sun room. It was as lavishly decorated as the rest of the house, although Kroth thought that the term "house" wasn't really accurate. "Mansion" was more like it. The estate had been in the lineage of Ronnd for many generations, and Maliston wondered idly who would inherit it after Arius and Keeya passed into El'Sha'Lor. They had no children of their own, and Arius had no siblings.

  "Are you that awed by a room you have been in so many times before?" The chief minister opened a box of cigars on his desk. "Perhaps I should show you the drawing parlor. Keeya has finally finished redecorating it."

  Maliston laughed and accepted a cigar. "My apologies. I was lost in thought."

  Arius lighted Kroth's cigar first, then touched the flame to his own. "You have been pensive all evening. I think this is the first supper where our wives dominated the conversation."

  "Yes, Arius, you're right. I did have an ulterior motive for inviting myself and Nurra to dinner tonight."

  "Your presence in my house is never an imposition, Maliston. You are welcome here any night of the week." He keyed a command into his terminal that activated the anti-surveillance devices hidden throughout the house, and especially this room. Then he motioned to a pair of easy chairs on either side of the antique fireplace. Through the trio of tall, wide windows that dominated the south wall, the moonlight bathed the sun room in an eerie pallor.

  "Thank you." Kroth puffed on his cigar a few moments, savoring the rich, earthy flavor of the zho leaf extract. He turned to his friend. "I held a private meeting with certain councilors of the Quorum three days ago. They presented me with an...unusual solution to our current problems with the Haal'Chai, the Kauramide, and the Sohnath." He paused as the other man frowned. "You know what I'm referring to?"

  "I believe so, but continue."

  Maliston told him the details of the meeting, and when he was finished, he took a long drink of his wine. Arius appeared thoughtful, but not as surprised or concerned as the chancellor had expected.

  "You want my honest counsel," Ronnd said at last.

  "I would expect nothing less." />
  "The entire Quorum knows of this plan?"

  "That's what Crit said. He and the other four had been elected to deliver the proposal to me."

  Arius nodded, tapping his cigar so the ash from its tip dropped lightly into a silver dish, falling like gray snow. "It's a bold plan, and if you pull it off, you will be remembered as the chancellor that altered the balance of power in this quadrant."

  "The chancellor who expanded the empire far more than any other in the last two centuries."

  Arius nodded and looked at Maliston. "And if you fail, you and I and this government will not survive to see tomorrow. You will be remembered for nothing."

  The chancellor sighed as he rested his cigar in his dish. He stood and paced to the nearest window, looking out at the sprawling nightscape of Lar'A'Tol. It was an endless ocean of lights, steel, mortar, and chrome; a conglomeration of the past and the future that spread farther than the eyes could see. "The Quorum is right, Arius. The Alliance needs a victory, and this is the only way to do it. We'll be slaughtering three dald with one sword."

  Arius rose to join Maliston at the window. "Alikk Vi'Sar is an enemy of the state. Every agent under my command has been hunting him for the last ten years, and now you're talking about making a deal with him. You understand what terms he's going to dictate."

  "Yes, I know," Kroth snapped. "He's going to want us to wipe the writing board clean. All of the charges against him dropped, and he'll probably want all those prisoners released that were captured at Exxar-One; the ones that your people made disappear three months ago. I'm not pleased with all the details of this plan, but this is our only choice."

  "I agree. I just wanted to make sure that you know what you're about to set in motion."

  "Believe me, Arius, I know." Maliston sighed and returned to his cigar. He picked it up, but he no longer had a desire for it. The taste had soured in his throat.