by T. R. Harris
“I’m sorry, commander. I should have known who you were. It was your broadcasts that alerted us to the death of Admiral Tobias. You and the rest of the crew of the Mark VII are doing an incredible job. Your courage and skill are to be commended, if not your uniform-of-the-day.” The admiral smiled.
“Thank you sir. It’s appreciated.”
“Now commander, please get me Captain Cain?”
“Sir?”
Now the smiled turned to a frown. “Captain Cain…get him on the link.”
“You wish to speak with Captain Cain?”
“Is my connection not clear on your end, commander? Yes, get me Captain Cain…and now.”
“He’s not here at the moment, admiral.”
“Are you on a planet? When will he be back?”
“Sir, we’re not on a planet, and I’m not sure when Captain Cain will be back.”
“Is he in the head?”
“No, sir, he’s not in the head.”
Hollingsworth leaned in close to the screen, so close that the pores on his rather large nose looked like the surface of the moon. “Where…is…Cain?”
“Sir, he’s not onboard.”
Hollingsworth blinked. “You just said you’re not on a planet. If he’s not onboard, then where is he?”
Paulson caved. “He’s gone to Juir, Admiral. He and Mister Tarazi took a Class-2 from Marix and set out on their own. They left about a week ago.”
“Who’s been leading the attacks using the Mark VII?”
“I have, sir, along with Sergeant-First Class Travis Morgan. We’re to make the Juireans believe Captain Cain is still onboard.”
Hollingsworth stared disbelieving at the lieutenant-commander. Somehow, he wasn’t surprised at the turn of events.
“Why did he do such a foolish thing, commander?”
“Have you not heard the news, sir? Sherri Valentine and Arieel Bol are already on Juir. Synnoc is setting them up for some big public trial and execution.”
“I thought they weren’t arriving for another twenty days or so?”
“That’s what we believed as well. That’s why Misters Cain and Tarazi have gone to Juir, to rescue the women. They figured the Elder wouldn’t be expecting them, especially if the Vengeance—the Mark VII—is still operating and making its way towards Juir.”
“So let me get this straight,” the admiral began. “Cain and Tarazi have gone to Juir—alone—and with no back up? Then they expect to rescue two people from the capital planet of the Expansion? And need I mention this is at a time of war? Did Cain mention how he planned to get Valentine and Bol off the planet, even if he does free them?”
“No sir, and I didn’t ask. I figured they’d just steal another starship. He appears to be very good at that, sir.”
“Is the energy ball still with you; I imagine it would have to be to keep the Mark VII operational?”
“Yessir.”
“You do know, Mister Paulson, the Mark VII is not to fall into enemy hands, I repeat, not to fall into enemy hands. Is that understood?”
“Perfectly sir. We understand the revolutionary nature of the ship.”
“I suppose you don’t have a way of communicating with Captain Cain?”
“No sir, Admiral, but they should be arriving on Juir any day now. You could probably monitor their success by watching the Juirean news broadcasts. If they fail, Valentine and Bol will be executed. If they succeed—well you’ll probably know that, too, sir.”
“Commander, you are to return the Mark VII—the Vengeance, as you call it—to the nearest Union force—”
“Sir, if I do that, then Synnoc will believe Captain Cain has given up and he’ll execute the women. He’s keeping them alive only as long as he thinks Adam is attempting to rescue them.”
Hollingsworth pushed back in his chair. Paulson was right. “Commander, we’re in a tough situation.”
“Yessir.”
“All right, continue with your mission, understanding full well what must be done if it’s evident the Mark—the Vengeance—is about to be taken.”
“Understood, sir. We’ve known that all along.”
“And still you took off with Captain Cain and Mister Tarazi?”
“Sir, me and Sergeant Morgan wish to one day have schools named after us, too. Joining Misters Cain and Tarazi seemed like the fastest way to make that happen.”
A day later, with his plan formalized, Admiral Hollingsworth initiated a conference call between his area commander, Admiral Curtis Logan, and TS-17 leader Captain David Morris.
“Good news, gentlemen,” he began. “Your fleets will soon be growing in spectacular fashion.”
The split-screen images of the two officers displayed exuberant expressions. “That’s great news, Admiral,” said Logan. “When and by how much?”
“Before I go into details, Curtis, I have a job for Captain Morris. David, I need you and a hundred of your fastest ships to break off and close on the Vengeance—that’s the name Captain Cain has given the Mark VII—and watch their six. The timetable for everything has been moved forward and they’ll be going it alone, without full fleet support, at least for the time being. Now, Admiral Logan, this is what I have in mind. You’re going to love it….”
26
Seventeen years earlier—at the time the Kracori dropped a small asteroid on the planet Juir—there were still a little over billion Juireans awaiting evacuation. Synnoc li Qriss was one of them.
He was a Master-Overlord at the time—number three in the Juirean military hierarchy—and had just been appointed a junior member of the general Council. At a time of war, the composition of the governing body changes, taking in more military officers than Admins.
However, with his lowly status, most of Synnoc’s duties took place outside Juir City, supervising the evacuation on the far side of the planet. As a consequence, he missed the last shuttle off the planet before the Kracori launched their air, space and ground attack. Two weeks later—when it became evident the Humans were on their way to Juir—the Kracori dropped their asteroid. It landed a hundred miles off the coast of Juir City. Most of the immediate damage was isolated to that area, sparing many of the remaining Juireans still on the planet, including Synnoc.
But then the skies clouded and remained so for two long years. The full effects of the nuclear winter took hold, and nearly ninety percent of the survivors died from either cold or starvation.
The Humans were on the planet by then, but they were more concerned with their own survival than helping the dying natives. However, as the skies began to clear—and the number of survivors reached a manageable level—the Humans rounded up the last remaining Juireans and turned them over to others who would shuttle them to the new hiding place of the Juirean race.
The nine hundred thousand, eight-hundred and six survivors were each assigned a number by the Humans and would later come to be called The Million. Synnoc was one of them.
Wydor bin Sulic was the Elder of the Council at the time and he welcomed The Million back as courageous heroes to the mother race. As the highest ranking survivor, Synnoc was immediately elevated to the Council Elite, becoming one of the nine supreme rulers of the Juirean people.
To his utter disappointment and shame, Synnoc found that the Elites no longer ruled over a galaxy-wide empire, but rather a single race of humiliated creatures, defeated and cast off from their homeworld by savages and upstarts. Gone was their empire and their history. Gone was their pride and respect.
In Synnoc’s opinion, the weak Wydor only reinforced that image. Although the public persona of the Elder was that of the dedicated leader who brought the Juirean race back from the brink of extinction, Synnoc felt differently.
His anger and frustration would fester for another five years, until the time when the Humans—through their mouthpiece, Adam Cain—relinquished control of the Expansion and returned the planet Juir to the Juireans.
The years had taken their toll on the already ancient Elder,
and upon Wydor’s death, Synnoc was advanced to the position of Council Elder, based mainly on his fame as a member of The Million. The timing of these events was fortunate, because by then Synnoc was the leader of an underground movement dedicated to driving the Humans from Juir and the Expansion. Adam Cain’s foolish and overly-threatening speech probably saved millions of Juirean lives; even so, Synnoc still felt cheated out of his opportunity to force the Earthlings from Juir, something that would have been a lot more impressive than having them simply pack up and leave of their own accord.
That was ten years ago, and the relationship between the Juireans and the Humans remained strained, to the point where Synnoc had his military personal—including his good friend Fleet Marshal Kradis—constantly working on contingency plans for a new war with the Humans.
Then the Sol-Kor invaded.
From that point on it became a desperate fight for survival, and one experienced by every advanced race in the galaxy. Juireans and Humans joined forces, even though the Earthlings had the advantage of Adam Cain’s relationship with Panur. The mutant had originally been a vital part of the Sol-Kor Colony, yet he eventually switched sides and joined the Humans. He helped the Union defeat the Sol-Kor—both in this galaxy and the Sol-Kor universe—leaving the Juireans to play a minor role in the victory.
The galaxy celebrated the defeat of the Sol-Kor, lavishing praise and respect on the Humans—and particularly, Adam Cain.
Having just restored the Juirean race to a position of strength and respect within the Expansion, Synnoc saw it slipping away after Cain’s latest escapade. Something had to be done…and that something was war, followed by a humiliating defeat of the Union.
Somewhere within Synnoc’s plan, Adam Cain had to die, and in a very public and humiliating way.
Synnoc was in the Pinnacle Room of the Malor-Hydon Tower, staring up through the glass ceiling at the brilliant swath of stars painting the sky above. Somewhere out there was an incredible accumulation of weapons of war, all preparing for the largest space battle in history. Also among those twinkling lights was Adam Cain.
The Elder had set the game in motion by bringing the prisoners to Juir earlier than expected. Now the galaxy was awash with news of their multiple sins and demands for swift punishment. Yet Synnoc would delay the final outcome, as he watched Cain’s efforts to reach Juir in his experimental warship.
But that didn’t keep the Elder from playing with his captives.
He began by calling in the former-Overlord Benefis Na. He would start with background information the Juirean could provide, details about Cain’s adventures in the Sol-Kor universe, most of which were unknown at this point.
Synnoc frowned when the former Overlord was brought before him in the Pinnacle Room.
“Why is your glory white? You were not a Master-Overlord at the time of your desertion.”
Benefis was sniveling and nervous. He stood before the supreme leader of the Juirean race, surrounded by an invisible cloud of foul odor. Synnoc wrinkled his nose.
“My Lord, this is the natural color of my glory. I am old.”
“You are also disgusting and a traitor. I will not—cannot—tolerate your presence much longer.”
“Yes, my Lord.”
“Quickly, tell me of Adam Cain’s efforts in the Sol-Kor universe. I only wish to hear the truth and not embellishments, as he is wont to spread. Do not delay.”
In his nervous and excited state, Benefis began to talk, and talk he did. His rambling were recorded, which would be how Synnoc would decipher all the words pouring from the traitor’s mouth. Yet the Elder did find some interest in what Benefis had to say, particularly in how Cain—along with his mutant daughter—had defeated the new Sol-Kor queen. Something as simple as liquid atmosphere and freezing the immortal beast. It was—genius.
Eventually Synnoc grew weary of listening to Benefis, as well as the awful smell now permeating the most-revered chamber in all the Expansion. He couldn’t kill the female prisoners, but he could the disloyal Overlord. He produced a ceremonial dagger and ended the life of Benefis Na by his own hand. It was satisfying—to a degree—but not enough.
Once the body was removed and the Pinnacle Room vented of the former Overlord’s caustic odor, Synnoc began contemplating the other prisoners.
The Formilian Arieel Bol was being held in the visitor’s section of the building, being treated gently and with respect. In three days, a delegation from her planet was due on Juir to plead for her release. That wouldn’t happen, but still Synnoc had to go through the motions of considering it. He needed Formil and their scientific expertise, at least until the time the Formilians had no other option other than to bow to his will. Even then, if it came down to him having to destroy the planet to quell an uprising, then the Expansion would have to make do until other races—or entities—took their place. He knew MK Weapons Systems was making progress in developing an advanced line of control modules, so he wasn’t overly worried.
He smiled. Yes, Adam Cain and his Humans had made a few feeble attacks on MK and their facilities, but no lasting damage had been done. MK would do nicely as a replacement for the Formilians, if it came down to that.
The Human Sherri Valentine was another matter. Her case was more straightforward. She was a cohort of Adam Cain and Riyad Tarazi. She had been disrupting Juirean activities for twenty years and there were no political considerations surrounding her case. She would die and no one would complain—with the possible exception of the Humans. But their concerns didn’t factor into his thinking. All Synnoc had to do was come up with the most public and horrific method of killing her.
And what would be better than for her to die standing beside Adam Cain and Riyad Tarazi?
Two huge Guards escorted the prisoner up the stairs and into the Pinnacle Room. Sherri Valentine had been fitted with a neck security device, one designed to stun into submission rather than sever the spinal cord. Synnoc couldn’t risk her committing suicide before he had the opportunity to kill her himself.
The stairway was wide and long, rising up from the lower admin level into the four-sided, pitched-roof, all-glass room that sat atop the Malor-Hydon Pyramid. When the new building had been constructed, there had been talk of adding an elevator to the room rather that a stairway, but such an addition would have obstructed the three-hundred-sixty-degree view. So the stairway remained, much to the detriment of the Juirean Guard following Sherri up the steps.
As she reached the platform at the top, Sherri kicked out with her leg, striking the Guard in the chest. He tumbled backwards down the stairs, breaking both his neck and back.
But she wasn’t through. She charged toward the lead Guard, ramming her head into his back. He fell to the floor as she dropped a knee onto his thick neck. The crack was pronounced.
Sherri knew she only had a split second before those watching the room monitors would react to her attack. She’d already been told what type of security collar she wore: non-lethal. That was little comfort knowing that her fate was already determined. If she was to die a horrible death on Juir, she might as well take a few of the mane-heads with her.
And the mane-head she had her sights on now was Elder Synnoc li Qriss. He stood ten feet away, leaning against the stone conference table. He reacted to Sherri’s attack on her escorts with wide eyes and an intake of breath. It was Sherri’s goal to make sure he didn’t take too many more breaths after that.
Her hands were bound, but not her legs and feet—that would have made it hard to climb the stairs. Now she jumped in the light gravity of Juir, throwing herself at Synnoc. She hit him hard, throwing the Juirean onto the table with her on top. The seven-foot-tall alien swung his arms at her, which she blocked them with her bound hands. Then she sat on his shoulders and swung balled fists at his head. The blow stunned the Juirean, long enough for her to wrap her legs around his neck. She rolled on her back, pulling Synnoc with her until his back was to her, with powerful runner’s legs clamped around his neck. She applied
all the pressure as she could, grimacing and letting out a high-pitched squeal from the effort.
Synnoc had his hands on Sherri’s legs, doing all he could to keep his neck from breaking and air flowing to his lungs. Sherri could feel his resistance lessening. Another couple of seconds—
The shock around her neck was incredible. She'd known it was coming, and strengthened her resolve against the pain, hoping she could resist just long enough to kill the Juirean Elder. Now cold fire racked her body as every nerve-ending became her enemy. Her body twitched, and she hoped the spasms would help tighten her grip on the alien’s neck….
To the contrary, her legs fought to straighten rather than stay bent. Her arms flew out from her body, as well, and she bounced on the cold stone surface while the Juirean fell away, rolling off the table. Her vision was a vibrating blur, even as she noticed others now in the room. They stood back, rather than touch her, thus avoiding a debilitating shock themselves.
The pain continued long after Synnoc was released, until the Elder himself ordered it stopped. When Sherri’s body melted to the surface of the table, she knew she’d failed, either to kill Synnoc or herself.
Still, she smiled. At least her humiliation would be short-lived. His would last longer, having been attacked and nearly killed by a puny Human female. She hoped the bruise on his neck would last longer than she had to live.
Eventually, Sherri was pulled from the table and placed in a chair, this time with her legs bound. A Juirean doctor came in, first to check on Synnoc and then her. When both were pronounced well enough to proceed, Synnoc came near her—not too near, but closer.
“You wish me now to end your life.” His voice was weak and hoarse, still recovering from the damage Sherri had done to his vocal cords. “You will not get your wish, not yet. I still have need of you. You will die, but not until you have drawn your friends Adam Cain and Riyad Tarazi to me.”