by Ryk Brown
“We have another theory,” Jessica insisted.
“It also seems that one of General Hesson’s subordinates, a younger officer by the name of Tolkan, has been meeting with Lord Dusahn in General Hesson’s absence.”
“You think Lord Dusahn has changed advisors?” Nathan surmised.
“Either temporarily or permanently,” Jessica replied.
Nathan studied both the lieutenant commander and Jessica for a moment, neither of whom looked comfortable. “There’s something else,” he realized.
“We have received a message from Lord Mahtize,” General Telles announced.
“We?” Nathan wondered.
“The message came to me, through one of my operatives on Takara. One who has been tasked with being Lord Mahtize’s handler.”
“How do you manage to get messages out of a Dusahn-held system?” Nathan wondered.
“It is not as difficult as one might think,” General Telles assured him. “Bounce it off a few comm-sats, and make sure it is in the air when one of our recon drones makes a pass.”
“And it’s secure?”
“Very.”
“What was the message?” Nathan wondered.
“It seems that General Hesson wishes to meet with you, Captain,” General Telles replied.
The news caught Nathan by surprise, causing him to recoil slightly. “Really.” After thinking for a moment, he added, “Did he say why?”
“No,” General Telles replied. “Only that he wishes to meet. He has offered a neutral location, one away from Takara…”
“Yet still inside Dusahn space,” Nathan assumed.
“Traveling at all would raise suspicion,” the general replied, “let alone traveling outside the Dusahn Empire.”
“Let him take the risk,” Jessica insisted. “He’s the one making the request.”
“Merely making the request is a risk,” Nathan said. He looked to General Telles. “Assessment?”
“Intelligence suggests several possible scenarios,” General Telles replied, “the most likely of which is that General Hesson has fallen out of favor with Lord Dusahn.”
“Wouldn’t Lord Dusahn just kill him in that case?” Jessica said.
“The Dusahn are an honor-driven culture,” Lieutenant Commander Shinoda added. “They also have a significantly longer life span than most humans—the reasons for which we have yet to establish. It is entirely possible that the general’s life has been spared as a reward for his long history of service.”
“General Hesson is significantly older than Lord Dusahn,” General Telles said, adding to the lieutenant commander’s assessment. “It is possible that he served the previous leader, as well. It is also possible, assuming he did fall from favor, that his life was spared for fear of discontent among those Dusahn officers loyal to the general.”
“It could also be a ruse,” Cameron suggested.
“I’m with her,” Jessica agreed.
“To lead us into a trap?” Nathan concluded.
“What else?” Cameron replied. “They’re not having much success attacking us directly.”
“Tell that to my engineers and repair teams,” Vladimir snorted.
“Deception is one of the oldest and most effective weapons in one’s arsenal,” General Telles stated. “It has been used throughout history, often with great effectiveness.”
“And with great failure,” Nathan added.
General Telles nodded in agreement.
Nathan took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Deception or not, we should meet with him.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” Cameron objected.
“If the general is in earnest, he may be offering us an advantage,” General Telles said.
“And if a hundred Zen-Anor crash the party?” Jessica wondered.
“Anything is possible,” General Telles admitted. “However, such a move would make little sense.”
“The Dusahn are not afraid of me,” Nathan insisted. “They’re afraid of the Aurora…especially an Aurora powered by ZPEDs.”
“Then why didn’t they guard them more carefully?” Abby wondered.
“Underestimation of our daring?”
“Desperation might be a better word,” Cameron said.
“If you are to meet with General Hesson, it would be best to do so on Takara,” General Telles insisted. “That way, if he is acting without knowledge of his empire, he is less likely to raise their suspicions.”
“You can’t do it, Nathan,” Cameron insisted. “It’s too risky.”
“Meeting with the general or meeting with him on Takara?” Nathan asked her.
“Take your pick.”
“Again, I’m with Cam,” Jessica agreed.
“The Dusahn aren’t going to try to capture me during the meeting with General Hesson. If this is a ruse, the target is the Aurora,” Nathan insisted. “I’m certain of it.”
“Certain enough to meet one-on-one with their top general…on Takara?” Jessica asked.
“Yes,” Nathan replied confidently. “But who said I’m going alone?” he added with a grin.
* * *
Kareef could feel his pulse racing as he struggled to avoid the deadly streams of energy streaking past him from behind. The Ahka raider had managed to slip behind him without warning and refused to let him out of his crosshairs until…
“You must shake your attacker, and get behind him,” Commander Prechitt urged over Kareef’s helmet comms. “You cannot evade him forever. Your shields will not hold that long.”
“I know! I know!” Kareef exclaimed as he pushed his Sugali fighter into a spiraling dive toward the surface of Casbon. “Bashwan!” he cursed as energy streams walked across his aft shields, shaking his tiny cockpit violently. “I need assistance! Anybody!”
“In space, your fellow pilots may be too far away to help you,” Commander Prechitt reminded him. “Remember your relativity training.”
“Bashwa-coysfanay!”
“Language, Mister Shamoon,” Commander Prechitt scolded. “A good fighter pilot is always in control of his emotions.”
“I am obviously not a good fighter pilot!” Kareef retorted as another energy bolt rocked his ship.
The barrage from behind suddenly stopped. Kareef glanced at his tactical display and found that the Ahka raider had disengaged and jumped away. “Ha-ha!” he exclaimed triumphantly. “I shook him!”
“No,” the commander replied, “he left because he knows you’re already dead. Gravity made the kill for him.”
Kareef looked at his speed and rate of descent indicators, as well as his altitude indicator. A cold chill traveled down his spine as he glanced forward just in time to see the surface of his homeworld taking his life.
Everything went black.
Three seconds later, his canopy slid open, and the cool morning air of Casbon rushed into his cockpit, a welcome sensation after twenty minutes of nervous perspiration.
Kareef looked over at Commander Prechitt and Talisha, both of whom were walking toward him. He then glanced at the Sugali Nighthawk next to him, spotting Lieutenant Commander Cardi, her long, auburn hair spilling out as she removed her helmet.
The lieutenant commander smiled at Kareef. “Fish in a barrel,” she said with a laugh as she climbed up out of her fighter.
“I do not like her,” Kareef stated to Talisha and Commander Prechitt as they approached.
“You should be thanking her,” Talisha replied. “She just taught you a valuable lesson.”
“Which is?”
“Flying is always first,” Talisha replied.
“If you aren’t flying, you’re not fighting,” Commander Prechitt added, “and if you’re not fighting, they’re not dying.” The commander walked up to the bottom of Kareef’s boarding ladder, looking
up at him. “The Gunyoki have a saying, ‘Fly, fight, win.’” He looked at Talisha. “Pretty much sums it all up, doesn’t it?”
“I believe it does,” Talisha agreed.
Kareef looked over at the lieutenant commander, now sitting at the top of her own boarding ladder, a satisfied grin on her face. “What are you smiling about? You are proud to have beaten such an easy target?”
“Don’t take it so hard, Shamoon,” Lieutenant Commander Cardi insisted. “We’ve all been there.”
“Again,” the commander ordered.
“I have to teach a ground school class in twenty minutes,” the lieutenant commander warned. “I know he isn’t going to last that long, but I would like to grab a bite beforehand.”
“Very well,” the commander replied. “Kareef, start from liftoff and I’ll meet you at the simulated engagement area.”
“You are to be flying with me?”
“No, I’ll be trying to kill you,” the commander told him. “Now, go.”
Kareef muttered another expletive in Casbonese as his cockpit closed around him.
“Maybe he’s had enough for one day?” Talisha suggested to the commander.
“I know that you probably have daily training limits in civilian flight training, Talisha,” Commander Prechitt replied, “but the enemy doesn’t care if you’re tired. In fact, he prefers it. It is better that our pilots become accustomed to exhaustion and fear. Facing it is how they build courage.”
“Fear also causes hesitation,” Talisha pointed out.
“Kareef and all the others must learn to master their own fears,” the commander explained. “Only then will they have the courage needed to defend their world.”
“Let’s hope they have it in them.”
“Let’s hope,” the commander agreed, turning to climb into the other Nighthawk.
* * *
Josh sat at the Aurora’s helm, both arms crossed and a determined look on his face as he listened to the technician explain his ideas. When the technician stopped talking, Josh glanced to the left at Loki. “Are you getting any of this?”
“Yes.”
“Good, because I’m not.”
“What is it you aren’t getting?” the technician asked Josh.
“Primarily, why you think I need all that crap,” Josh replied, pointing to all of the data displayed on the clear panel before him.
“Because that’s all the information about the ship’s flight systems. You are the pilot, right?”
“Ah-ha!” Josh exclaimed. “Then you do know what the person who sits in this seat does. Now we’re getting somewhere.”
A confused look came across the technician’s face. He turned to Loki for help.
“Don’t look at me,” Loki said, throwing his hands up. “I don’t understand half of what goes on in his head.”
“Dude, let me put it to you as simply as possible,” Josh began. “I’m the pilot. I fly the ship. I don’t care about the status of every little thruster or power transfer relay, or all the other doohickeys that make this thing fly. Attitude, speed, velocity, rate of closure or separation, range to this, that, or the other thing…that’s the kind of stuff I need to know. All this other garbage just distracts me.”
“But…” Again, the technician looked to Loki. “How are you supposed to know if something is wrong? How are you supposed to know what the ship can or cannot do at any given moment?”
Josh did not reply, only pointing to Loki.
“That would be my job,” Loki said, raising his hand.
“But, you’re the navigator,” the technician insisted.
“That’s old school,” Josh told him. “The Aurora doesn’t need a navigator. The jump-nav com does all of that for us.”
“By that logic, she doesn’t need a pilot, either,” the technician argued.
“Wrong,” Josh snapped.
“Oh, don’t go there,” Loki warned the technician.
“We come head-to-head with a Dusahn battleship, and you’ll quickly realize this ship needs a pilot,” Josh insisted. “And one who isn’t distracted with all this crap!” he added, pointing to the display in front of him.
“So, all you want is flight dynamics data?” the technician asked in disbelief.
“Finally!” Josh groaned.
“Do you know how long I worked on this?”
“You figured it would be a good idea to rework the pilot’s displays without first consulting with, say, the pilot?” Josh laughed. “I think I’ve found where you made your first error, fella.”
The technician simply stared at Josh.
“What?” Josh asked. “It shouldn’t be too hard to fix. Just delete all that other crap, and leave me the flight dynamics data. Hell, I’ll even arrange it properly for you.”
The technician shook his head as he walked away.
“You’re going to fix it, right?” Josh called after him. He turned to Loki again. “He is going to fix this, right?” he asked Loki, pointing to the display in front of him.
“You could have handled that a little better, Josh,” Loki suggested.
“You saw it, Lok,” Josh replied. “It was a mess.”
“Yes, it was.”
“He’s going to fix it, right?”
“I heard you the first time.”
“But you didn’t answer me,” Josh pushed.
“I’m sure he’ll fix it, Josh,” Loki replied. “Just give him time.”
“No problem,” Josh agreed. “This ship’s not going anywhere soon.”
“Thankfully,” Loki said.
“I need to fly something,” Josh decided, rising from his seat to leave. “We haven’t flown in a week.”
“Where are you going?” Loki asked.
“I’m going to find Cameron to see if there are any shuttle runs we can take,” Josh replied as he headed for the exit. “You coming?”
“But we have the next watch,” Loki reminded him.
“That’s not for two more hours,” Josh replied. “A shuttle run will take half that. Maybe we can get a run to Rakuen to pick up some seafood.”
Loki groaned as he rose to follow. “We just ate an hour ago.”
“Well, I’m hungry already,” Josh insisted as he headed out the exit.
“Where the hell do you put it?” Loki wondered as he followed.
* * *
More than anything else, Sanctuary was a marketplace. Over a dozen massive caverns were carved out of the rocky asteroid, which served as the facility’s main core. Each of them was meticulously detailed, making those within feel as if they were walking on the surface of a planet in an open-air marketplace. Blue skies stretched overhead, disappearing behind the various structures lining each cavern’s perimeter. Those skies faded into starry nights, in keeping with Sanctuary’s day-night cycles.
Unlike real open-air markets, Sanctuary’s were always a comfortable twenty-two degrees. It never rained, and the breezes were always just enough to keep those who trolled the hundreds of merchant booths comfortable, while not creating problems. Even on those days when the markets were overcrowded, the temperature remained the same.
Being that it was Sanctuary, it was not uncommon to see more than a few nefarious-looking types mixed into the crowds. For this reason, Marcus preferred to keep his face unshaven and his dress similar to those less desirable guests. More than once, he had witnessed the pockets of the well-dressed being picked, or other undue attention being paid to them, by con-artists from all corners of the quadrant.
Yes, even Sanctuary, with all its security forces and technology, had its criminal element, most of whom could be found in the tech markets that Marcus favored. He had tried the other markets: culinary, grocery, clothing, and accessories. He had even made the mistake of visiting the jewelry markets with Neli; one that he would not repea
t any time soon.
The tech markets were where Marcus felt most at home. He would sleep there if he could. There was nothing wrong with his accommodations, but they were quite sterile and bland. The markets were full of color and activity, and littered with all manner of gadgets, the likes of which most people couldn’t even imagine. Marcus used this as an excuse for his daily visits—to search for tech that might be of use to the Aurora and the Karuzari Alliance. He adored Miri’s kids, and enjoyed their company, but his daily forays into the seedy tech market domes were what kept him sane. It also gave him a chance to ingest something other than the overly-healthy crap that Neli was constantly forcing him to eat.
Marcus had developed a sort of game during his visits to the tech markets on Sanctuary. He would select a patron, sometimes a group of patrons, and then follow them around the markets. Their interests often told him much about the subjects. Mercenaries seeking unique weapons and technologies that might give them an advantage over their adversaries, physicians who were looking for new and better imaging and treatment tools for the worlds they represented, fabricators and manufacturers seeking to improve their processes and increase their profits, researchers and scientists looking for better tools through which to further their understanding of the universe; all of them forever searching.
Marcus often wondered how fruitful their searches truly were. In his weeks of visiting the tech markets, he had seen a few faces more than once. Some left with new acquisitions; whereas, others departed empty-handed.
On this day, Marcus had chosen to follow an odd-looking fellow with a shaved head and poorly-fitting clothing, which did not seem to suit his personality. Even more oddly, the man didn’t seem to favor any particular line of tech. He methodically worked his way down each row, up and back, making sure to take a visual inventory of every item on display, in every vendor’s booth. So perfect and efficient was his method that Marcus wondered if the man, himself, wasn’t some kind of robot, or cyborg, being guided by algorithms.
Marcus had been in the market this day for twice as long as his average visit. He had received more than one text message on his comm-unit from Neli, wondering how much longer he would be. He continued to make excuses, unable to complete his visit until he discerned the odd fellow’s purpose.