Spacer Clans Adventure 2: Naero's Gambit

by Mason Elliott

  Shalaen thought a moment. “Their resources and their working knowledge of the universe is quite formidable. Yet there is much that they still do not know. They are very far from the level of mastery and dominion that they seek over others. And I got impressions that their motives and goals ran in many other directions as well. It all went far beyond mere power sources. They’re planning many dire things, and they’ve been planning them for a very long time. They must be very long-lived. When any of their plots do come to fruition–if ever–they’re going to be big. They’ll change everything we know.”

  “They’ve already done that–several times over,” Ingersol quipped.

  Naero couldn’t take it anymore.

  Just recently she began having repeating nightmares about being trapped and tortured in one of those alien generators.

  Along with her brother Jan. And crazy Danner.

  “Aauugh!” she groaned, clutching her hands to her pulsing, aching head. “This is just one of the reasons why my skull is always pounding. Why I can’t sleep. How in the hell can we act if we don’t know anything about all of these threats we’re facing?”

  Admiral Klyne glared at her.

  “Stand down, Maeris. I’ve never seen you so rattled. Something will turn up. Until then, I order you to take some time off and get some R & R, dammit. I know you’ve been through a lot recently. The pressure eventually gets to everyone. You’re no good to us if you let everything worry you and burn you out.”

  “But, sir…”

  “I repeat. This is a direct order. We have a respite and we don’t know how long it will last. Tomorrow, or six months from now. Take an old warrior’s advice, and rest up while you can. Train or whatever you need to do. Get drunk. Take some time to get your head back on straight.

  “Because when this war erupts again, we’re going to need you and your people on your game and at full strength. I’m certain of that.”

  47

  Klyne was pretty much right on the credits.

  She needed time off away from the madness. So many people had blamed her for so much that she started doing it to herself. And that couldn’t stand.

  Naero stared at herself in the mirror wall of her mist shower on board her flagship.

  She was frazzled. By everything that had happened. And not a little frightened and freaked out.

  They were already up against a lot, and the vast majority of that and all of the factors and threats involved still remained unknown.

  While the Cease-fire talks continued to hold and drone on, the Clans and Intel attempted to process all of the new data. Determined to make the most of whatever time they had.

  She needed to do the same.

  So for the time being, even as her trade fleet set out, the first thing Naero needed to do was make an immediate call to her private wild card.

  On a very secret, secure channel.

  She and her fleet needed to catch up with Baeven and his crew to do some serious re-thinking, all on their own.

  And maybe enjoy some downtime too.

  At least she might be able to get some of her questions answered.

  Baeven obviously knew a lot more than he was letting on.

  To her surprise, Baeven not only agreed, but was thinking about some of the same things she was. Thus they arranged to meet in secret on Miretta-1, well beyond the edge of the Unknown Regions near Joshua Tech.

  Out that way, between the spiral arms filled with stars, there were huge voids of uncharted, relatively empty space with far fewer planets on average, and even fewer life-bearing worlds and rich worlds suitable for mining.

  Because there were fewer profit opportunities in what some called ‘blank-space,’ or ‘dead-space,’ no one bothered sending ships out that way.

  Perfect for one of Baeven’s many secret safeworlds, as he described them.

  Somehow he seemed to know about a lot of uncharted worlds that were good for one thing or the next.

  Or to use as hideouts.

  Baeven also happened to divulge that he had sent out an entire self-replicating network of advanced stealth probes to track, record, and alert him to the presence of any of the strange new alien ships.

  Or anything else out of the ordinary.

  Once he had enough pings and data, he could analyze their foes’tek more, where they appeared and went, and even how some of their tek functioned.

  All he had to do was wait to collect the data feeds from his network. But that would also take time.

  Nor was Naero surprised that Baeven possessed his own personal cloud of fixers–which he took the time to modify himself–and that they had turned a small part of Miretta-1 into a private resort for him and his crew.

  Which he graciously offered to share with Naero and her fleet.

  The majority of the planet happened to be primordial jungle. Complete with huge sauropods, ichthyosaurs, carnasaurs, and basically a lot of creatures that would have been perfectly at home on Old Earth during the Jurassic Period.

  Naero and about three hundred of her captains and crew came down in shuttles, fighters, transports–even jump suits and gravwings.

  They landed on an island lagoon beach of light blue sand, nestled within a coral reef, with a mostly dormant volcano on the peninsula behind them.

  Baeven sat back barefoot in a beach chair, wearing colorful swim trunks, micro sun lenses floating over his eyes. With a nanofreeze cooler of cold drinks of many assorted varieties well within reach, and a few empties already in the sand.

  There was a nice tropical breeze.

  Several of Baeven’s gleaming chrome-like emulators patrolled the area. She almost mistook them for fixers at first.

  Naero’s eyes bulged as she drew closer.

  She zeroed straight in on a couple borbles of Jett in that damn cooler.

  “Hello,” Naero called out. “What does a Spacer have to do to get a drink around here?”

  Baeven waved at the cooler. “Help yourself, gal.”

  He didn’t have to invite her twice.

  A large plant-eating dinosaur with a huge neck, let out either a roar or some kind of song, and reached its long neck into the enormous tree canopy nearby to munch on something.

  Naero stared, hands on hips.

  “Dinosaurs, Baeven? Seriously?”

  He grinned. “I’ve always liked them, ever since I was a kid. They kind of came with the real estate anyway. Repulsion fields similar to those on Janosha keep the nastier varieties away. Dinos also tend to poop a lot. Very messy. If you go out into the jungles, you’ll need to watch your step, as well as not get eaten.”

  Naero kept looking around. Out beyond the reef, a pod of colorful plesiosaurs raced into a school of proto-dolphins.

  “I brought friends, like you said. More will come when they hear about this sweet set-up you have.”

  Baeven frowned. “I don’t normally entertain so many guests at once, but I made an exception for you and your fleet. I’ve had my fixers erect a string of a few thousand huts, resorts, and some cabanas nearby on the south shore. Within walking distance. I’ve extended the repulsion fields to keep out the meat-eaters from the jungles and close to the shore. Tell your people to bring their own supplies, food, and drink. And have a good time. I know you and your crews could use a stand down. When the war heats up again–which it very well could at any time–we’ll all be in the mix again.”

  Naero got on the horn and gave the general orders for the shore leaves to commence.

  Whooping and hollering ensued.

  The vanguard began to sweep toward the south shore as soon as they heard.

  Baeven snapped his fingers, and a fixer popped up out of the sand and instantly fashioned another beach chair just like his out of the silica and available plant fibers and other raw material components.

  Naero patted the little fixer, and studied it with her teknomancy for a sec. “Make me a storage tub.”

  Instantly a tub popped up behind her chair. First she took off her weapons an
d gear.

  That took the longest.

  “You travel heavy,” Baeven noted.

  “What do you expect? We just came from a war zone.”

  Next, stripped down to her togs. And then programmed them into a two piece light blue bikini swimwear pattern she had seen on the Buynet. Complete with holos of shimmering blue tropical flowers.

  She almost felt naked. It was kind of frost.

  The light blue sand was too hot on her bare feet.

  Naero sat down in her chair and snatched up a borble of Jett. She leaned back, enjoying the ocean breeze and the warm tropical sun.

  “You’re skin’s too fair in this sun,” Baeven warned “Just like your mom. Put some sun gel on or you’ll regret in half an hour. Ask one of the fixers for some.”

  “Hey, Twinky,” she called to the one that made her chair and the tub.

  It blinked its one ocular unit at her and actually responded in a tiny, comical toon voice. “Who, me?”

  Naero smiled and even giggled a little. “Yes, you, cutie. Sun-gel me up. Lobster red isn’t my best color.”

  “Okay…here goes. Ready or not!” It even hummed a tune as it passed over her, spraying her exposed skin with just the right sun gel formula for her skin type.

  “Close those gorgeous eyes, please.”

  She did, feeling the cool spray cover her face. She smelled and tasted palm oil. Then she felt it on her ears and neck.

  “Turn over please, baby-cakes.”

  She flipped over on her stomach while Twinky did her back.

  “All done, babealicious. Anything else I can do you for?”

  Naero turned back over and sat up grinning.

  “Thanks Twinky. Hey, I could use some shades. Sunglasses?”

  “You got it, hot-stuff. Only takes a sec.”

  Twinky fashioned a slender pair of spolymer reflective shades, tuned to block harsh radiation.

  “You need the tint darker, good-lookin’?”

  Naero popped them on and looked around, not forced to squint any longer.

  “No, these are great. Thanks, cutie.”

  “Don’t mention it…cutie!”

  Twinky popped back into the sand and wiggled back beneath the surface.

  “So, you taught the fixers to talk and flirt huh? Nice touch. I like it. Can I have that one for my very own?”

  “He’s all yours.”

  “Whoopee!” Twinky exclaimed from under the sand.

  “You give them emotions too?”

  “Just some of them,” Baeven said. “I thought it might be amusing. You can toggle it off if it bugs you.”

  “No. I think it’s kinda sweet. I think my mom would have loved little guys like him bobbing around.”

  Baeven smiled happily for once. “You’re right. She would have. You’re mom had a great sense of whimsy. Only part of that which made her so beautiful as a person.”

  They sat quietly for a while.

  Laughter and parties and music erupted over on the south shore.

  Max Lii and his band and their fixers erected a zero-G stage and broke out into an impromptu throck concert.

  In no time they we leaping and zipping through the air, doing their hits and other numbers. Cheering crowds flocked that way, and parties broke out within the range of Max’s thrilling, hammering music.

  Naero dozed off for a while, and then woke up to see Gaviok and S’krin come down to the beach.

  Most insectoids never wore clothes anyway.

  They proceeded to quickly erect the largest and most elaborate sand castle Naero had ever witnessed.

  Someone could actually live in the dang thing.

  Then Danjen came down and pulled up a chair way off to the left, without saying a word. He looked very self-absorbed. He carried a small sack of what looked to be bags of various meat jerkies, cans of Spum, and lix packs of warm veg juice.

  He actually looked like an anime’ character in a kid’s toon, with his flippy straw hat, hairy body, bright swim trunks, and loud island shirt with scantily-clad hairy female holo-babes dancing across it.

  That’s right. Hairy females from Danjen’s own species–whatever the heck that was–busting up the dance floor on his shirt.

  Yet Danjen seemed completely devoted to his regimen, and remained sitting well away from them all.

  He had a fixer set up a stand for his snacks.

  Then he slowly pulled out a data pad…and began to read.

  “What in the heck is he doing?” Naero asked.

  Baeven sighed. “We made the mistake of teaching Danjen how to read. Now he’s a junkie. Mostly mysteries these days. He loves cheap mysteries. He’s always spouting off about how he’s going to be a detective some day. Like when he went on that westerns kick…and he wanted to be a cowboy.”

  Danjen? A cowboy? Naero covered her mouth and chuckled, recalling some old, old western vids.

  Danjen would look pretty stupid as a furry-ass cowboy, bouncing around on one of those horse-mammals.

  “What? Didn’t you explain to him that there aren’t any detectives or cowboys? That’s just in old stories and vids.”

  Baeven lifted his head, apparently pondering that. “Among the landers there still might be some somewhere. But I would strongly advise you not to tell him any of that. And especially not now. He hates to be interrupted when he’s reading. Makes him furious.”

  They sat and enjoyed the sun and the ocean breeze a while longer.

  “So, Naero. You going to get around to telling me why you’re really here?”

  “I have a lot of questions.”

  Baeven yawned. “Don’t we all.”

  “And I want you to train me. You trained with the Mystics for years. I still need to get both stronger and faster. And my endurance using Chaos and Cosmic energy still farts out in less than a day. I need more stamina.”

  “Is that all? Don’t you want to know how I kind of-sorta control my dark side? What you call your dark beast?”

  Naero frowned. “Now that you mention it. Yeah. That too.”

  Baeven only hesitated a moment.

  “We’ll start tomorrow. If Vane did his job, at least I won’t have to go easy on you anymore.”

  Naero slugged down some more Jett, wondering how much she should be looking forward to all that. Baeven was never going to go easy on her.

  Over on the South Shore, Max Lii burned up one of her favorite tunes of his. The crowds ate it up.

  Naero closed her eyes and hummed along.

  *

  Shortly after dawn the next day, Naero crashed into some of the island trees. Again.

  Part of a pattern it seemed.

  She shot back out at Baeven, fighting with everything she had.

  Baeven spin-kicked her across the surface of the lagoon.

  Skipping her across the water like a stone.

  She rose up and transported back on top of him, trying to land a hit.

  Baeven continued gauging her skills and Mystic abilities.

  By kicking and punching the living crap out of her.

  She tried every trick she knew.

  Baeven apparently had seen them all.

  Haisha! He was worse than Hashiko. More or less up there with Master Vane, although not as annoying and sneaky.

  Thus far at least.

  Baeven simply stomped on her.

  “You’ve really improved,” he told her.

  After he cratered her in the sand once more with a thunderous flip and punch.

  Naero spit out sand. “I’m clearly not in your league yet.”

  “No. But you’ll get there. Remember, I’ve been honing my skills and abilities for many years longer than you.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I know. Everyone keeps telling me. Increases in Mystic speed and strength take time.”

  “I’m serious. You shouldn’t be frustrated at all. You’ve made remarkable progress. Faster than anyone I’ve ever heard of–and that includes both me–and your mom. She learned things faster than anyone
. But I think you might even surpass her, given time.”

  “My mom was fast?”

  “One of the fastest, in nearly every way. They didn’t call her the Invincible Cyclone on the fight circuit for nothing. You never watched any of her matches?”

  “I did. I guess I just always thought that they were rigged or scripted somehow.”

  Baeven glared at her. “Are you kidding? Some parts were for show, to make them more exciting. All of the contestants agreed to that. But the competitions were always real. When it really counted, they fought with honor to decide the winner. All of them. Spacers wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Naero beamed. “So, mom was fast?”

  Baeven smiled. “She was. You can be just as fast as I am, maybe even faster than her. And you have your father’s strength on top of it. You can even become stronger that me, I think.”

  Naero stared at him eagerly. “Show me. Show me how.”

  “I can help set you on the right path. But I gotta warn you, it will be hard work. Danjen can help us with the speed.”

  “He is fast.”

  “And Gaviok with the strength. You can’t believe how strong he is, and he keeps getting stronger.”

  “Amazing.”

  “But eventually you’ll need to go back to the Mystics and train with the other two High Masters. They’ll round out your training, and balance all of your abilities so that you can continue to grow, and properly optimize your total effectiveness.”

  “But we share the same affliction,” Naero said. “Only you’ve learned to control yours some how. I desperately need to learn how to do that. When I lose it, I could easily kill someone.”

  Baeven held up both hands. “I can only control a small part of my dark side. That’s my secret. I can only control a portion of it. If I set it all loose, I’d be just like you. A danger to everyone.”

  “So, what is your secret? How do you manage to control even a small part of your Dark Beast?”

  Baeven grinned.

  “Through love.”

  She stared at him. “Come on. Seriously?”

  “I am serious. It’s the only way I know. And I learned it by accident.”