by Frank Carey
Ange explained the call she had gotten from Gloria.
"My God, was it scrambled?"
"According to the computer it would take two centuries for someone to break it. That woman knows security." She rubbed her temples. "She's on to us. I don't know how, but she's on to us and Arriska's with her."
Charlie fell back in his chair with a look of complete shock. "The Martok Princess?"
"And Tobath, her once and future consort. I saw them in the feed. They were all aboard a ship I didn't recognize. I hung up on them."
He gave her a look of pity.
"What?"
"I'll prepare rooms for them. Hanging-up on Gloria is like dangling a ham in front of a shark. She is now officially on the case. Have you read her file? I think she might have an IQ higher than even mine. Couple that with an insatiable curiosity and you get trouble in all-caps."
"Speaking of file, since when did our little friend have a real body, and an elf one at that?"
"What? I thought she was non-corporeal, you know, wraith-like."
"That's what I was told. She must have gone shopping because she's got a real one now. The commlink scanner read a body temperature of ninety-nine degrees Fahrenheit and an honest-to-God pulse and respiration. She completes the ensemble with a tail, pointed ears, and cat-like eyes."
"That changes everything," he quipped. "I should lay in some girly soap in her room. Got any you can spare?"
She threw a beanbag at him, one of a set Ciara gave her when they were still on speaking terms. "This all better be worth it," she said as she rolled a bag in her hand.
"It will be," he said as he took her other hand and gave it a squeeze. "By the way, we're here. We've been invited to the Captain's office for a visit."
"Can't we just vaporize them and this planetoid now and get it over with?"
"Sorry, no. Our orders are to play nice until we find their home world. Remember, we're dealing with people who may be responsible for instigating a war which resulted in the genocide of the Erdexi race. These Halcyons have been playing a big-stakes game for almost 200-thousand centuries, assuming our intelligence is correct. Set your blaster to stun and all that."
She got out of her seat and checked her weapon. "We should go," she said as she straightened her jacket before heading to the door. "I miss my uniform," she noted.
"Ah, but you so rock the privateer look," he said as another beanbag whizzed past his ear.
The two of them walked down the corridor to the port-side airlock with four security guards in tow. Once inside the asteroid they followed signage until they found the Captain's office where the guards deployed in a box formation surrounding the door. Charlie knocked.
A female voice answered, "Come in."
They walked in and found themselves in a typical reception room which could be found anywhere in the League. Beautiful oil paintings hung on the walls surrounding a desk and lounge furniture. Behind the desk sat a smiling, white-haired, blue-eyed Erdexi female. She stood up and extended her hand. "Capt. Thurgood and Mr. Trost. I'm Aleea, Capt. Troon's assistant. Please, have a seat while I tell the captain you're here. Can I offer you some refreshments?"
"No, thank you. We'll just sit and wait," Ange said as she sat down in a chair while Charlie examined the paintings. "Local artists?" he asked.
"Those are the captain's work. He finds painting to be a relaxing pastime.
"Impressive, especially the subtle nuances of lighting." Charlie said as he pulled back for a better view.
"I'm glad you like them, Mr. Trost. Captain Thurgood, I presume," he said as Ange got up and shook his hand. "I am Troon."
"Capt. Troon, we've heard good things about you. It's an honor to finally meet you in person."
"The honor is mine. Come, let me show you the facility," he said as he took them by the arm and led them out into the corridor. "This base was carved from a solid iron silicate asteroid over two thousand standard centuries ago by my ancestors. It has been used as a base ever since. We have over four hundred ships stored here ranging in size from small cruiser to dreadnought.
"How old are these ships?"
"They were built approximately 125,000 years ago, but immediately put into stasis, so they've aged no more twenty years past shakedown. Our biggest problem is fuel."
"It's always something," Charlie said. This garnered an elbow to his ribs by Ange.
"How true. In our case it’s a problem handed down to us by our ancestors. The Halcyon civilization stretches back a quarter million years to a time when we shared our worlds with our cousins, the Erdexi, and the Martok. A war ensued and the Martok were driven out only to return and decimate the Erdexi."
"I thought you and your people were Erdexi?" Charlie asked feigning ignorance. Their contacts had been thorough in their interrogation of a certain blond Erdexi prisoner they had captured. Ange and Charlie, along with members of the League Military and OffSec knew a great deal about the Halcyon race.
Troon looked at them with his ice blue eyes. "As I said, we were cousins, and like all families, we had a small rift. You can't imagine our joy when we found out a group of our Erdexi cousins survived all these centuries."
"It must have been a shock," Ange noted.
"It was right up there with finding out the Martok had returned."
"This brings up another question. How'd you find out about the League, the Erdexi, and the Martok? We've only met the Martok a short while ago and they never mentioned anything about Halcyons."
Troon smiled. "Most of my people are recluses. Some of us, though, keep an ear on things. We've known about the League for a long time, but chose to lurk on the fringe, so to speak. That changed when we heard about the incident with the Martok ship."
My God! Can this man bullshit or what? Ange thought to herself. You sent in a crew to that weapons lab as part of a plan to take out the League's Government planet and the Martok dropped in for a look-see. We’re so on to you, fool.
"So, how does this all figure into a problem with fuel?" Charlie asked.
Our technology was originally based on adium, a byproduct of adamantine ore processing. Centuries ago we switched to antimatter to power our planet, but these ships all use adium for fuel, of which we have none."
"So how do we fit into all this?"
"The Northcal Six mine has tailings piles, does it not?"
"Yes, approximately one hundred and thirty-two square miles from one hundred feet to one mile deep, all located on the dark side of the planetoid."
"We have processing ships and fuel haulers which can turn those piles into enough fuel to power a dozen times over the ships we have. We just need some quality time with the tailings, time which protector will buy us."
"How?"
"Let me show you," he said as he led them through a hatchway into a hangar. Once inside they found themselves standing amongst a dozen Martok raiders.
"What the hell? Where did you get these?"
"InterWeb. It's amazing what you can find there. I've even got a few paintings up for auction on it. We plan to attack the mine with these while our mining team is out in back sifting through the piles. In all the confusion no one will notice a bunch of small survey ships 'hiding' on the dark side."
"Why not just contract out with the League to get access?"
"It would take months. Most importantly, it would mean the Halcyons’ part in the war would be revealed. Our home world is almost defenseless having relied on stealth for protection."
"And Protector?"
"When my ships are finished extracting the fuel, Protector rushes in to save the day. Since the Martok ships are remote controlled, you can blow them to hell, making you and your crew look like heroes. As an added bonus, your gun crews get live-fire practice against moving targets."
"I can't see any flaw in the plan. When do we start?"
"We have but one final step before we implement this plan. Our leaders on our home world want to meet you and your crew in person. Our planet is two da
ys real-space travel from here at Protectors best possible speed. Once the formalities are out of the way, we'll pick up the last Martok freighters and proceed directly to the mine where we will rendezvous with the rest of the raiding force."
"Fine," Ange said. "Give us the coordinates and we'll head out."
"Security protocols prevent me from doing that. Instead, my Lieutenant, Skaarn and her team will join you on your flight. Once you're underway, she will input the coordinates directly into your system."
"Lovely. When does Skaarn plan for us to leave?"
"One hour, no more."
"Then we'll be waiting for Lt. Skaarn and her people at the airlock. Thank you for your time, and we look forward to working with you," Ange said as she and Charlie shook the Captain's hand on their way out the door.
When the door closed, Skaarn and her second, Tokka, entered the room from a side door. "When you're aboard, kill those two and take the ship."
"Yes, sir."
"Once we have Protector, we will attack and destroy the Northcal Six mining operation, extract our fuel, then lead an attack on the Martok colony worlds using our ships with Protector leading the way," Troon said as the others watched with fear. "When the smoke clears the Martok will blame the League and mount an all-out offensive. Once the two sides are finished killing each other, we'll send our forces in to mop-up what's left. Once more the Halcyon people will take their rightful place as rulers of this galaxy.
Outside in the hallway, oblivious to Troon's rant, Ange looked at Charlie and said, "Wow. Trust them?"
"Not on your life." he said. "I've got a real bad feeling about this. Protector could destroy the Northcal Six facility on flyby, which would set League ship production and maintenance back at least a year on top of fueling a pretty large alien fleet."
"We have to go through with it, so alert your people we may have a problem with Ms. Skaarn and her little group," she said as they reached the airlock.
"Aye, aye, Captain," he replied.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
It was late. The Cube was deep into its night shift, and Ciara was hard at work reading through dispatches from the front line. The war with the Martok was fast reaching a stalemate and the League did not have the resources to fight a long, drawn-out war. It was looking more and more likely they would lose the conflict by attrition, an outcome no one wanted.
"Director," the intercom said, "you have an incoming priority call from Gloria. Her identity is confirmed."
"Put her through," Ciara said, happy for the break.
Ciara's viewer shimmered into life as the image of Gloria formed. "Hi, Ciara," she said.
Ciara looked up, put on her glasses and looked closer. She called up the link's biometrics readouts and was stunned by what she saw. "Care to explain to me how it is you're a living, breathing elf?"
Sighing, Gloria said, "It's a long story. If you're worried, I promise this is the real me. I'll fill you in when I return, okay?"
Ciara looked over the top of her glasses. "Fine, but I want to hear every juicy detail including why one of John's suits looks just like the real you, only disproportionately large. Does he know?"
"No, of course not, or he would have told you. His design was just a happy coincidence, okay?"
"Fine. I have to admit, it's really good to see you. John and I miss you."
"Ah, heck, you two are just too sweet. Listen, is this line secured at your end?"
Ciara flipped a switch. "It is now, what's up?"
Gloria launched into what had been happening including the part about Ange and the Protector. "I think this whole mutiny-thing is a fake. Did you know about this?"
Ciara said nothing as she thought about what Gloria just said. "It explains a lot. Space Command refuses to take my calls, Ascendant and its crew have been appropriated by the military, and my access to the naval database is sketchy at best. I've got a bad feeling that Space Command is trying to play spy. Where are you?"
"I can't really say."
"Gloria!"
"Tobath figured out the origin point of the signal Arriska' ship detected before it was destroyed. We're heading there now. We think Protector's there. Dammit, these Halcyons are bad news, and I don't think Ange knows how bad. Ciara, you don't look like your breathing. Are you alright?"
"You're taking a civilian ship filled with musicians behind enemy lines to investigate a clandestine base where a rogue privateer is parked, and you're carrying the princess of the enemy empire with you. Have I got that right?"
"Well, if you put it that way... Oh, did I mention we talked to the Martok Queen? She knows we have her daughter as a guest."
"Does she know you're taking her daughter into a possible gunfight?"
"Noooo... I think I left that part out."
"You are to turn that ship around and return to the Cube ASAP. Do you understand or do I have to repeat myself?"
"I...sorry...breaking up...static..." The link went dead.
"Communications! Get them back."
"Sorry ma'am, they are not responding to our hails."
"Can you give me their last known position?"
"Yes, ma'am. It's on your terminal."
She looked up and saw a map of Martok space near the Northcal Six Mining Operation and watched a flashing red dot appear well inside Martok territory, on a heading taking it deeper into Martok space.
"Computer, deep search. Reference to Martok Princess Arriska missing."
"Working... Ready."
"Plot all mentions. Scale for importance set by Martok. Include inference and speculation."
Dots started appearing on her display. A large red one appeared directly ahead of Gloria's current position which the computer had marked as ML for "most likely."
"Computer, clear all references except ML. Zoom in."
She was now looking at Gloria's dot and the ML dot.
"Computer, any Martok or Erdexi outposts or planets within the vicinity of ML?"
A semi-transparent blue dot labeled RADIO appeared near ML.
"An inconsistent radio source. Interesting," Ciara said while tapping her finger on her chin. "Computer, connect me with Space Command, ultimate priority."
"Working... "
"Decker here. Ciara, what the hell is going on?"
She pressed a button which transmitted the map from her terminal to his. He stared at it in shock."
"Jeremy, if you ever do an end run around me again, I swear I will quit this damn job and write a tell-all book which I promise will ruin three-quarters of the people in Space Command. I will make sure your name figures prominently in it. Do I make myself understood?"
"Yes, Director. Perfectly."
"Now, someone better be here in the next two hours to read me in, or I swear I'll get angry. Got it?"
"Yes, Director," he said just as she killed the connection.
No more Ms. Nice Girl, she thought to herself as she cleared her desk in preparation for her briefing. She looked over at her plant-things in their enclosure and wondered if she should feed them before Space Command arrived. Naw, don't want them to get fat, she thought with a wicked smile.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The Melete was an hour out from its destination as Tobath put the finishing touches on his latest project in the shuttle bay. On a table in front of him were two of the Cubes newest probesats, each painted to look like a rock. He leaned over and applied a few finishing touches as Gloria and Nersa walked in.
"You never struck me as a rock collector," Gloria said as she touched one of the rocks. She quickly withdrew her hand when she felt wet paint. "You paint rocks?"
Nersa leaned over and looked at where he was touching up a spot on one of their surfaces. "Probesats?"
"Yes, mother. They were in the last shipment. I was to test them around Northcal Six while we were playing there. I think I have a better use for them on this mission."
"What, pray tell, do you have in mind, young engineer?" Gloria asked as she wiped her hands in a rag.
We are an hour out from the P'kena's wreck site, and I don't want to go in blind, so I was going to send these in ahead of us. They look like small asteroids and should scan as such due to the iron and silicates in the paint I'm using. I've programmed them to backtrack along the P'kena's course then slowly turn toward the coordinates of the radio signals the crew detected before the ship was destroyed.
"Then what? What do we do if we arrive and find Protector? Drive up and wave at them through the cockpit windows?" Nersa asked.
"I actually have an idea about that," Gloria said as she stepped around the nearest probesat.
"Well, spill it oh creature of the forest," Tobath said. He found himself dodging a rag.
"We land in Protector's Dorsal Bay Three. We'll fit through the door if Glit is as good a pilot as I think she is. When we're just about to touchdown, someone can jump out and marshal us into the proper landing cove--Protector has several big enough to handle a ship our size. Once we've landed we can tie her down and act like everything is normal."
Silence reigned as Tobath and Nersa stared at the insane Elf.
"Poor thing has gone daft from space exposure. Perhaps we should have her lie down," Nersa said with eyes full of sadness.
Tobath stopped staring and raised his hand. "No, Mother, not Daft. I think it might work."
"How?"
"Gloria, you have Protector's command access codes?"
"Of course. Grabbed them when we left last time. I had visions of sneaking in and giving Ange a good talking to."
"But they'll notice the bay doors opening," Nersa reminded them.
"Yes, normally they would, but I'm going to trick their computer into thinking there's a fire in the bay," Tobath explained. "Fire Control Protocol dictates all crew evacuate the affected area and open the overhead door while weakening the atmo containment field just enough to snuff the fire. The system is completely automatic. I estimate we will have two minutes for a complete cycle."
Nersa looked first at Gloria then back at Tobath, not sure which one was crazier. "I may be going out on a limb here, but won't they notice an extra ship on board?"