Exploration (Galactic Neighborhood Book 3)

by Alexander Elliott

  The lightning, hail, and high winds were severe, but still no match for Zephyr’s shields. It may not be dangerous, but the noise and vibration made it very difficult to concentrate.

  Sorrell was about to give an order when she paused, a wicked grin lighting up her face.

  “This is exactly what we need – hold position. Listen up people! We are going to use the storm as cover to get some deep scans of the surface. Time the scans to correspond with lightning strikes as closely as possible. Focus on the three areas of interest first, then move to secondary targets. Repeat as many times as necessary until we have a complete picture.”

  Bax was surprised and impressed by the Captain’s quick thinking, and it certainly solved one of their most vexing problems. Traditional deep scans didn’t take long, but they were very noticeable as a wave of golden light. Using them would certainly give away their presence, even if the Silestri didn’t know what they were. By using short bursts and concealing them in the lightning flashes, the scans would be virtually impossible to detect unless someone was purposely looking for them.

  The ship remained in the disconcerting grip of the storm as it swept over the landscape below. Enormous amounts of data were being analyzed and correlated into a detailed picture, until at last the information they needed was complete. Sorrell held position until the heart of the storm passed them by, and then ordered the ship to return to the original coordinates over the heart of the city. The skies remained cloudy, providing an additional layer of camouflage, but the noise and shaking stopped, allowing Bax to think.

  Sorrell smiled broadly and spoke to the bridge crew.

  “Well done, people. Now the real fun begins. Scanning, do we have the intel on site number three?”

  Sites one and two were the locations of the human slaves, while number three was the captured cradle. The scan tech remained focused on his panel for a few moments and then replied.

  “Yes, Ma’am. It’s right where the earlier scans said it would be. They have it enclosed in a large structure on the edge of the main spaceport, north of the city center. It appears to be guarded by armed sentries, but no other weapons or shields were detected. There are indeterminate signs of human DNA, both within the cradle and in several other locations in the complex.”

  Bax noticed the look of concern Captain Sorrell shared with her first officer, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. Toomey was about to make a comment, but stopped when Sorrell shook her head slightly.

  “General McClure is waiting for that information, so I want a copy of the data shunted to a buoy and sent back ASAP. Judy, give me a split screen of sites one and two on the main viewer please.”

  The comm officer complied, and the exterior of the sites were revealed in startling detail. Site number one, the larger of the two, was clearly a combination government center and palace for the Silestri leader, whom they now knew was called Prime Yarmew. This was where the house slaves, a group of eighty one women, were being kept.

  Site number two was a separate nearby structure on a much simpler scale, and consisted of three stories above ground. The top floor contained virtually no windows or openings to the outside, and held twenty human life signs. These women were the sex slaves, as revealed in the download Cole sent to them. Only he, Sorrell and Toomey were aware of what was really happening down there, and both of them reacted visibly when they looked at the screen. He could certainly sympathize with their plight, but as a man, he would probably never be able to fully understand the fury only another woman could feel.

  Sorrell looked away from the screen and began issuing orders.

  “We know where to look, so now we need details. Teams one and two, prepare the buoys. Remember - the Silestri have heightened senses, so be very careful of placement and movement. Even though they shouldn’t be able to see the buoys, it doesn’t mean they cannot sense them. We do NOT want them to know they are being watched. Now, I want accurate maps of each structure and movement patterns of the captives. Where do they work, eat and sleep? What parts of the buildings do they use? How many Silestri are present? Are there armed guards? Where are the entrances and exits? If possible, I want a fix on this Prime Yarmew. Where does she live? Is she guarded? Does she have a throne room?”

  Heads were nodding all over the bridge as the crew began the task of answering the questions. Sorrell turned to her first officer.

  “Commander Toomey, you will be overseeing the site two team. Something tells me we are going to need to start there. Coordinate all information with Ensign Young. Let’s get to work!”

  Though Bax was prepared to send in the EMR immediately, he knew it was better to have some idea of what was going on down there first. The wait was going to be nerve wracking, but he was almost afraid to actually find out what was happening to the captives. Whatever it was, it wouldn’t be pretty.

  ####

  Glynnis White never considered how nerve wracking boredom could be. Something strange was going on, but as slaves, they would normally be the last to know. Very suddenly, the Sub’ords ceased to arrive each day for servicing. Vezmew was unwilling to provide them with an explanation, and instead filled their days with pointless busywork. Everything which could be dusted, cleaned, scrubbed or arranged was cared for several times over. Today, they were actually allowed into the kitchen between meals to clean and polish from top to bottom. After the evening meal, they prepared themselves to serve as usual, and were escorted into the Salon.

  Lately, they spent their time playing games and talking quietly while their guard watched over them. Vezmew would sweep into the room every so often and perform a needless inspection, nervously demanding corrections to imagined flaws. Still, there were no Sub’ords to service, and it was making the women nervous. Normally they would gather enough bits and pieces of overheard conversations to get a picture of recent events, but with no Sub’ords in the building, there were no conversations to overhear. All of the slaves were happy to get a break from servicing, but this was short lived and their imaginations began to work overtime.

  What could possibly have caused every single Sub’ord to suddenly stop their visits, and all of them at the same time? Yesterday, a brief snippet of conversation was overheard between their guard and Vezmew regarding their space fleet and some type of preparations. Glynnis supposed a full scale fleet maneuver might explain the absence of some Sub’ords, but certainly not all of them! Unfortunately, it was the only clue they had to explain the strange new schedule they were following.

  Glynnis returned her attention to the cards she was holding and realized she was going to lose this round too. Poker was never her game, and no matter how many times they played, she never seemed to improve. She only played for fun or as a distraction, and was quietly grateful there was no actual betting going on. She laid down her pair of sevens, listened to the playful ribbing from the others, and then excused herself to use the toilet. The guard made sure she carried nothing with her, and then allowed her to leave.

  The bathing room off the Salon was almost as big as the one in their quarters, and was the first door down the long hallway leading to the service rooms. She entered and went to the last open stall at the end, enjoying a rare moment of privacy and quiet. She finished, and set to rearranging the sheer, gauzy garment all the slaves wore when servicing. As she approached the sink, strong arms suddenly grabbed her from behind, and a large hand covered her mouth. She tried to scream and twist away, but the grip was firm and she couldn’t move. She looked up into the mirror and saw...nothing!

  A quiet female voice spoke into her left ear.

  “Do not scream. We have very little time, and I must talk to you. You are Glynnis White, formerly of the colony ship Exploration. Is this true?”

  Glynnis, still confused and scared, nodded her head.

  “Good. I am using technology which makes me invisible, and have been watching for a chance to speak to you alone. We are here from the Sol system to help you. Our ship is in orbit above the palace, but we mu
st remain undetected for now. If I let you go, will you allow me to help you?”

  The Sol system? Someone from Earth was here on Bastet? Impossible! Whoever this was apparently knew too much already to be lying, but for what reason? This didn’t make any sense, but with her mind and heart racing, she swallowed hard and nodded. She was released, and turned around to find a woman in a strange military uniform. She was large for a woman, with a pleasant face and a determined expression. She appeared to be unarmed, but Glynnis suspected a lethality which needed no weapons. The stranger spoke again quickly.

  “You will be missed soon. I will follow you back to the other room, but remain invisible. When will you and the others be returning to your quarters?”

  Glynnis forced herself to think clearly.

  “It shouldn’t be long. It’s just about time for us to go back for the night. Do you know what’s going on? How did you find us?”

  The soldier interrupted before she could ask any further questions.

  “I will answer all of your questions later. Your quarters are not under surveillance, so we will be able to speak freely there. I will warn you before revealing myself, but you must ensure there is no panic. Understood?”

  Glynnis nodded and then washed her hands quickly and exited the bathing room. The soldier disappeared once again, but she assumed was following her as promised.

  She bowed her head in submission when the guard growled at her for taking so long, but he did not scold her. The table she left earlier motioned her over, but she waved them off with a smile, deciding instead to mingle among the small groups scattered throughout the salon. This was normal behavior for her, so the women simply resumed their game and thought nothing of it.

  Glynnis needed time to think! After all these hopeless years of slavery, were they really about to be rescued? With the amazing technology she already saw, it was anyone’s guess what else these people were capable of. How did they know where to look? What did they plan on doing now? What about the house slaves in the palace or the men on Hathor? Did they already know help arrived?

  Time seemed to crawl until Vezmew made a final appearance in the Salon, directing the guard to escort them to the dining room for their final meal of the day. As usual, the table was spread with simple finger foods which required few utensils. Normally, they there were two or three drink options, but tonight all the pitchers were filled with fruit juice. The slaves took their seats and began to fill plates and glasses, talking softly about the events of the day. Without warning, a tremendous crash from the direction of the kitchen startled everyone into silence. The guard growled in anger and went to see what was going on. As soon as he was out of the room, Glynnis heard an urgent whisper in her ear.

  “The juice has been poisoned. Do not let anyone drink it. The food is safe. Warn them before the guard returns!”

  Glynnis looked up, startled by the stranger’s words. Several people noticed her expression, but she half stood in place to get everyone’s attention.

  “Listen! The juice has been poisoned. Eat your food as usual, but drink nothing. I will explain later.”

  Just as she sat back down the guard returned to the dining room muttering curses to himself. He took up his usual observation post and growled at them to continue eating. The evening meal was always somewhat rushed, as he was anxious to get them settled in their quarters and leave for the night. The rest of the women were watching Glynnis carefully, eyes wide with fear and questions she could not yet answer. One of the most difficult things she ever had to do was pick up the food on her plate and put it in her mouth. What if the soldier was wrong? Would they all die in agony right here around the table?

  As she began to eat, the others slowly followed her example. Eventually, conversation returned, though it was muted and strained. If the guard noticed anything strange, he gave no outward notice of it. Was it possible he knew nothing about the poison? How did the soldier know about it? Was she even sure the warning was true?

  Glynnis sighed in frustration, realizing she wasn’t sure of anything at this point. All things considered, it made sense to believe the soldier, and the people she represented, really were here to help them. Anyone who could walk around invisible might also be able to detect poison in the juice. The bigger question was why the Silestri might want them dead? Perhaps the Sub’ords no longer needed them and they were to be permanently discarded. Glynnis shivered at the thought, but continued eating.

  Another whisper in her ear warned that someone forgot and was reaching for her glass. Glynnis coughed loudly several times and gave the woman a severe grimace. She got the hint and withdrew her hand quickly. All around the table, everyone continued to pretend things were normal, though they all knew it most certainly was not. In a few short minutes, the meal was over, and the guard hurriedly shooed them in the direction of their quarters. Once inside, the heavy door closed with a loud thump, and the sound of the locks engaging echoed inside the room. Glynnis held up her hand for silence while they listened carefully for any sound of the guard on the other side. When she looked up they all started to talk at once.

  “What the hell is going on, Glynnis?

  “How did you know the juice was poisoned?”

  “Why would they want to kill us now?”

  “This doesn’t make any sense!”

  Glynnis shushed them and herded the group to the large bed furthest from the door. Once everyone settled down she spoke.

  “I am going to tell you something you won’t believe, and I need your promise to remain calm. Earlier tonight I met someone who claims she and her people are here to help us.”

  The group burst out in laughter, many shaking their heads as she pulled one over on them. Glynnis’ somber expression remained the same, and finally someone noticed.

  “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  She cocked her head to the side as though listening to something, and then gave a quick nod. Suddenly a strange uniformed woman stood next to her.

  “She is very serious. We are here to help you.”

  Excited and fearful chatter erupted all through the group, though no one screamed or tried to flee. When they started to wind down, the soldier spoke.

  “You need not fear me. My human appearance is for your benefit, though I am not a living person. I am in constant contact with the ship, and I have abilities which you have likely never seen before. As I told Glynnis earlier, we already know who you are and how you came to be here. A battle is about to take place in the Sol system between the Earth’s survivors and the Silestri. We became aware of your presence here only a short time ago, and sent a stealthed ship into Bastet orbit just this morning. We have been collecting information about you and your captors, and I was sent here to speak with you personally.”

  “The reason your normal schedule changed is that all the Sub’ords have been assigned to the fleet they are preparing to send to Earth. Prime Yarmew seems to have serious doubts regarding their chances for victory, so in the event of failure, she is planning to use the human captives as hostages. Unfortunately, the plan does not include you.”

  This statement set them off, and the conversation devolved into chaos. It took some effort for Glynnis to finally get them settled down again and quiet. She voiced the question they all wanted to ask.

  “What do you mean? Does this have something to do with the attempt to poison us?”

  The soldier looked at her calmly and nodded her head.

  “There is a connection, yes. Earlier today Prime Yarmew met with her closest advisers. In case Silestri forces fail to destroy us, she plans to hold the house slaves and the men on Hathor as hostages in return for concessions. In your case, she believes it is better to remove any evidence of your existence, rather than risk an angry response from us. The poison would have killed you in your sleep, and your bodies were to be collected in the morning and disposed of quietly. Obviously, we will not allow this to happen.”

  This time the chatter was filled with excitement rather
than dread, as the implications of the soldier’s words sank in. Several of the women began to cry as thoughts of being rescued broke through the bleak hopelessness they lived with for so many years. Others called out questions regarding the men, the house slaves, the coming battle, and their own future. In the midst of the furor, Glynnis asked the soldier if there was time to answer them and provide some reassurance.

  She agreed, and the conversations quieted while she addressed their concerns. She began by telling them about the Alliance, the destruction of Earth at the hands of the Silestri, and how their presence here on Bastet was discovered. There wasn’t a dry eye among them as they wept for the Earth, and again when they discovered Birmew was alive and well. Once they were briefed on recent history, she moved on to current events.

  “Our technology allows us to safely move people or objects great distances in very little time. In a short while, we will use it to transfer you from here to your temporary home on Pacifica. You will be given complete medical care and eventually be reunited with the others from your crew. The men have already been rescued from Hathor, along with Birmew, and are being cared for as we speak.”