####
Four weeks later, Duran’s team was in the middle of a skull session on board the Palermo, a research class vessel assigned to the Hound Dog initiative. Their latest attempt to correlate information and find a point of entry failed just as surely as the previous ones. The asteroid belt was enormous, though, and there was a lot more ground to cover before looking elsewhere. The last message from Khrusallis was short and unrevealing, and there was no telling if or when they might get some concrete information. All they could do was continue the search and hope something turned up.
Their meeting was finally winding down after a long and frustrating day, and Duran was looking forward to a soft bed and decent meal on Guardian tonight. Everything changed when a buoy emerged from fold space with a message from Councilor Threen. The meeting room viewscreen came alive with his image, and automatically translated the audio portion of his dispatch.
Greetings Lieutenant Duran. Our research has revealed important information which you may find valuable. This message contains our findings in some detail, but I will summarize briefly. The use of our fold space device leaves a resonance trace each time it is used, but the effects soon dissipate and are undetectable. If, however, there are stable rifts in space/time, we surmised there would be measurable effects which would reveal their presence.
Without such a natural occurrence at our disposal to study, we chose to create one by instructing a Sentinel to open a space fold and not allow it to close. The result was something akin to a scar in the space/time fabric, which was marked by increased neutrino activity, gravimetric echoes, and radiation leakage.
Our traditional scans were never designed to search for such a rare combination of events, and so may have overlooked them. I have included updated programming for all buoys and Sentinels currently being used in your project. Formal notification and specifications have been sent to all Alliance members so they may include a search for such phenomena in all future scans.
In addition, the results of your searches through the asteroid field have been studied in some detail. We have corrected several small errors which have greatly altered the results. Our findings have been included in the larger message. I trust these modifications will enable your team to locate the point of entry with greater ease. If further assistance is required, I am available for consultation. Until then, Lieutenant, I wish you gentle winds.
Excited chatter filled the compartment as the team realized the gift Threen just handed them. After downloading the new scanning parameters into the Palermo, the buoys were all recalled and similarly updated. With that out of the way, Duran called up the astronomical maps of their previous searches and overlaid the corrected positions provided by Threen.
The results were strikingly different, but more importantly, a useful pattern was emerging. At the beginning of the project, Duran divided the asteroid field into four quadrants; alpha, beta, gamma, delta. It was now clear the largest asteroids were gathered from at least three different quadrants. The rest of the material appeared to have been collected from the gamma quadrant, and possibly launched from there.
Pausing briefly for a meager dinner from ship’s stores, the team set out to design a new sweep pattern for the buoys, focused on the gamma quadrant. There was still a lot of territory to cover, but with the evidence on hand plus the new scanner programming, Duran was confident they were finally getting somewhere. Though it was tempting to begin immediately, the yawns around the table convinced him to start fresh tomorrow.
The Palermo opened fold space and translated to Earth orbit. After docking with Guardian, the crew headed for their quarters and some much-needed sleep. Before retiring, Duran composed a quick report for Commander McClure, and included an official nod to Hunter Prescott for his part in the new scent Hound Dog was sniffing. Oh yes, he thought, this dog can hunt!
####
Excitement was running high on Palermo’s bridge the following morning, as they ordered the buoys into the new search pattern. If there really was a stable rift out there, the buoys now knew exactly what to look for. The plan was to conduct a comprehensive forward sweep with sensor overlap, systematically moving through the entire quadrant. If the rift was here, it was only a question of time before they found it.
Once the buoys were in place, a simultaneous scan would be initiated, followed by a brief correlation of data. Most of the collected information was to be forwarded to the central processing node on Guardian, since the limited systems onboard the Palermo weren’t large enough to handle it. If nothing was found, the buoys would advance to their next position and repeat the process.
Lieutenant Duran waited patiently while the Palermo finished deploying the last of the buoys, and then took a position at the rear of the formation. The bridge featured a large viewscreen which displayed each buoy as a green dot, superimposed over a star chart of the belt. When everything was ready, Duran asked the comm officer for an open channel.
“Look sharp everybody. Once we get started, it’s going to be a whole lot of waiting, so don’t let your attention wander. Begin the hunt!”
With a simple signal, the first sweep began, and information poured in through the links. Guardian reported a successful data dump and all stations were focused on various tasks throughout the ship. Duran remained on the bridge, watching the precisely coordinated advance of green dots on the forward viewscreen, and listening to the information being relayed back and forth through the comm channels.
As much as they were hoping to hit pay dirt right away, the first hour passed uneventfully, followed by three more just like it. The midday meal was taken in shifts so critical workstations would remain manned at all times, allowing the scans to continue uninterrupted. By then, it was no surprise the early morning excitement wore off, morphing into a subdued but efficient discharge of duties.
One thing was certain; no one ever collected this much information on the belt before, though it remained to be seen if any of it would prove useful in the future. Still, some things could not be rushed, no matter how anxious the people running the show might get. Considering the task before them, this was still the fastest way to find what they were looking for. Duran admitted, to himself at least, it was possible there was nothing here to find and they would ultimately have to try a different approach.
Duran’s grandmother always claimed the surest way to have a visitor was to go to the bathroom. The axiom soon proved true when the detection alarm startled everyone on the ship - including the Lieutenant, who was still trying to fasten his pants on the way back to the bridge. He silenced the alarm, asked everyone to settle down, and then looked at the viewscreen. The buoys stopped advancing as soon as one or more of the search markers were detected, and two of the green dots were now red. Duran turned to his comm officer.
“What are we looking at here, Maggie?”
She looked up at him with a wide grin on her face.
“Direct hit, Lieutenant! The area falls into the overlap between buoys 19 and 20, which is why we are seeing both of them lit up on the screen. Do you want me to pull them out of formation and get a closer look?”
Duran thought for a minute about how to proceed. There was no way to know how the rift was oriented, how large it might be, or if the buoys might get pulled in. The one thing they could not do was risk losing a buoy in enemy territory, or warn them of renewed activity in the Sol system. No, this next step needed a bit of finesse.
“Instruct all buoys to hold position. We need to do this very carefully, Maggie. Prepare to send 19 to take a closer look, but I don’t want it reappearing on the doorstep, just in the neighborhood. Let’s give this thing a once-over from a distance first, and do some additional scans. Be sure to arm it for a level one self-destruct in case something goes wrong.”
She acknowledged the orders and concentrated on her panel for several moments. “Buoy 19 has acknowledged instructions, Sir. Ready to redeploy on your command.”
Duran nodded. “Thank you, Maggie. Send it...now.”
&nb
sp; Buoy 19 slipped through fold space and reappeared at the coordinates it was given. Sensor readings began immediately, and revealed a large jagged scar in the fabric of space. It was longer than it was wide, with irregular edges and a void in the center. The neutrino activity, gravimetric echoes and radiation leakage were all assigned a specific color to make the phenomenon easier to see and study.
The rift was both beautiful and fascinating to behold, the colors mixing and moving in a chaotic but powerful dance against the blackness of space. While the edges appeared somewhat fluid, the center of the rift remained constant in size and shape. It appeared Threen’s prediction of a stable rift was accurate, which meant it could probably be studied safely from a much closer vantage point.
Before they continued, Duran immediately ordered the Palermo and all buoys to stealth mode. The chances were extremely small an enemy vessel would choose this particular moment to pay them a visit, but better safe than sorry. He then sent a message to Commander McClure, updating him on what they found and requesting additional security forces to keep watch. The message was quickly acknowledged, along with congratulations to the crew and the promise of several Sentinels which arrived moments later.
Duran ordered the buoy to move in closer, but added a precautionary sweep for any serious gravitational eddies or energy surges which might endanger the craft. After several minutes of sensor data, it was deemed safe enough for a more detailed examination. Five additional buoys were sent to investigate the rift from all angles, careful not to get close enough to be drawn in.
The crew was once again invigorated, having discovered the very thing Hound Dog was designed to find. It was going to take a lot more study to unlock the secrets of the rift, but they succeeded in finding out how the enemy fleet so easily attacked Earth and escaped without a trace. It also meant any future incursions into the Sol system could be detected and thwarted before damage was done. Duran congratulated the crew himself, and then left them to their work.
His next task was to record a message to Councilor Threen, which was sent off in a buoy to Khrusallis. He included all the sensor data so far, and asked for Threen’s recommendations on how to proceed. The best way to protect the Sol system was to understand everything they could about the rift and how it was used. Meanwhile, anyone foolish enough to try another sneak attack would find themselves in serious trouble. He almost felt sorry for them...almost.
Chapter 6
Vibrissa system, roughly ten Earth years in the past.
Being awakened from stasis was normally a routine event, much like waking up after a very deep sleep. There was nothing normal or routine about it this time. With red alert claxons blaring all over the ship, every stasis pod was being cycled through an emergency crash awakening in an attempt to give the crew time to fight off the enemy who attacked them and disabled their vessel.
By the time the confused humans understood what was happening, Silestri troops were already boarding Exploration. With a crew barely able to stand, and no chance to mount a defense, they were easy pickings for the aggressive alien race. The black panther-like beings began herding the crew down to the loading dock, where they were separated into two groups. As the men looked on helplessly, the women were loaded aboard a docked Silestri vessel.
Once inside the ship, the one hundred-forty-four female crew members were locked in a cavernous hold, guarded by armed Silestri. The horrors inflicted upon them began almost immediately. Twenty women were chosen at random and pushed to the center of the hold. With razor sharp claws, the victim’s clothing was sliced from their bodies, leaving deep bleeding gashes behind. It was no surprise what came next, as Silestri males lifted their loincloths, revealing large swollen members. The rapes progressed with a frenzy, accompanied by human screams and the incessant growling and hissing of the Silestri. The other women cried in anguish as they witnessed the brutality, knowing their turn was surely coming soon.
As the males reached the height of passion, something strange happened which caught both they and the women off guard. As each Silestri reached orgasm, they roared in triumph and release, pounding furiously into their victims. With strangled screams the women were ripped to shreds by the barbed penises of their attackers. Between the physical trauma and blood loss, all twenty were dead by the time the last male withdrew.
Some of the surviving women became ill, others fainted, and the rest were shocked into silence, tears streaming down their faces. Strangely enough, the Silestri seemed confused by the deaths of the fragile humans, and after talking amongst themselves took no further advantage of their prisoners. The mangled bodies were dragged to a nearby airlock and vented into space, while the other women were made to clean up the mess left behind.
Before much longer, the ship landed, and the human cargo was marched out into an adjacent building. By gestures they were instructed to sit on the bare floor, and were given water and some type of native fruit. Still in shock, they waited to see what other terrors might befall them. The guards kept their distance, watched them carefully, and allowed no talking among the prisoners. Eventually, an odd ground vehicle approached and disgorged what appeared to be a female of their race, surrounded by an entourage. It seemed she was a person of some great importance, as everyone deferred to her with bowed heads and downcast eyes. She strode up to the group of humans and inspected them curiously, saying nothing until she completed a circle. Several males approached at her gesture, and they conferred for a few moments in their strange tongue. When she finished speaking, the males bowed slightly, and she returned to the ground vehicle and sped away.
Once she was out of sight, twenty-five women were hand picked and separated from the others. These were forced aboard another vehicle which looked something like a truck, and driven off towards the city. The two groups never saw each other again, and nothing was known until much later what became of them. The larger group was loaded into several vehicles and also driven towards the city. There, they were taken to a very large palatial structure, which they eventually understood to be the home of the planet’s ruler, Prime Yarmew, the same female who came out to look them over. They were set to various tasks in and around the magnificent structure, apparently to spend the rest of their lives as Silestri slaves.
####
Bastet, Prime Yarmew’s palace, present day.
Marina Bishop awoke before the other slaves, more out of habit than anything else. She lay still and quiet so as not to disturb her bed mate, assuming you could call a pile of rags on a stone floor a bed. From their very first night in the cold, dark, subterranean palace chamber they now called home, the women slept together to share body heat. The arrangement was fluid for most of them, pairing up with whomever was close at hand before lights out. Some chose to share their rag pile with the same person each night out of friendship or compatibility, while others found intimate comfort in the arms of a fellow slave.
The important thing was to stay warm and as healthy as possible. Medical care for slaves was nonexistent, so it was fortunate they received basic physical augmentation while onboard Exploration. Enhanced immune systems, faster healing, cessation of menses, and even limited life extension were all routine for members of the crew.
The women often noted their treatment seemed to stop just short of debilitating damage, as if their keepers were ordered not to allow it. If true, it made sense not to maim or kill off your slave labor, seeing as there were a limited number of humans available. Still, the Silestri were known for their capricious cruelty and harsh treatment. The women learned quickly to avoid the things which might anger or upset them, hoping to get through each day unmolested.
On mornings like this, Marina’s mind tended to stray back to their old lives aboard Exploration. For hundreds of years they traversed the galaxy looking for a colony world to settle. The crew formed bonds which extended beyond family, and they were anxious to find a home and begin building a new life. The wrenching grief which followed their capture, separation, and abuse by the Silestri
was an open wound, always threatening to overwhelm their souls with hatred and vengeance. As current senior officer, Marina took the position seriously, doing her best to care for the women in her charge.
As the former astrogator aboard Exploration, she was ill equipped to face the challenges of leading a large group of slaves. She had no control over their situation, nor any true leadership duties, but the women trusted her to help them deal with the harsh conditions they faced each day. She was constantly looking for ways to comfort, encourage, and strengthen her comrades, and many of the others followed her example.
As far as Marina could determine, there were only about 100 female crew members left alive. Including herself, there were 81 house slaves living in Yarmew’s palace, and as many as 25 somewhere else in the city. It took years before they knew anything at all regarding the smaller group of women. Marina burst into tears when she heard they were being kept as some sort of harem, used by powerful Sub’ords for their exclusive pleasure.
It was the first and only information they heard regarding the fate of their sisters, and knew it only because a loose-tongued guard was overheard complaining about no access to the ‘human whores’. Given the hideous results of rape by Silestri males, it was unclear how their crewmates could still be alive. Unfortunately, the two groups were unable to communicate with each other, and asking the Silestri for information would endanger all of them. It was best to keep quiet and pretend the house slaves knew nothing about their captive sisters.
Exploration (Galactic Neighborhood Book 3) Page 7