The Exxar Chronicles: Book 01 - The Erayan

by Neal Jones

  "Hello, son."

  The laugh was broken and choppy, and Gabriel was surprised to hear it coming from his own cracked lips. "That's it? That's all you got?"

  "I don't know. What is it that you're seeing?"

  Marc didn't understand the question. "How are ... you doing ... this?"

  "The bio-probes that I've surgically implanted along your spine and in certain sections of your brain allow me to stimulate specific senses. The one currently activated is in the part of your brain where memories are formed and stored. But I can't see what you're seeing. Is it your father? It is, isn't it? How does he appear? Older? Younger? Is he scarred and burned from when he died aboard the Britaine at Rigana-seven?" Serehl keyed another command into the pad.

  Gabriel blinked and now it was Ensign Riley standing beside him.

  "It's all right, captain. I understand why you gave the order, and I don't blame you."

  "No!" Gabriel coughed, forcing the words out one by one. "Stop ... this ... colonel! Just kill ... me and get ... it done with!"

  Serehl made a tsk, tsk sound with his tongue as he leaned over Gabriel. "Now, commodore, we already addressed that issue. It's necessary for me to test this new procedure, and I need you tell me what you see."

  "Fuck ... you!" This time, the coughing fit lasted longer and Gabriel's lungs felt like blazing embers.

  "Just relax, commodore. Let's try something else."

  Serehl entered another command into his pad as he stepped back, and Ensign Riley disappeared only to be replaced by Paul Decev. Marc's eyes widened and his gasp turned into a cough.

  The colonel smiled. "Who is it? Another officer killed under your command? Your father again? Or perhaps an - what's the expression? An 'old flame'?"

  Gabriel sighed as he closed his eyes and turned his head away.

  "No, no, commodore, you don't have a choice in the matter. You will tell me what you're seeing, or you will feel this again."

  Fierce, burning pain ripped through Gabriel's body, even more intense than before, and he screamed until he was hoarse, and then all he could manage was raging gasps. When Serehl lifted his finger from the pad, when the pain abruptly ended, Gabriel couldn't stop the jerking of his limbs and his head. Even as the source of the pain had been removed, flashes of it still burst here and there along his nervous system, like the sporadic flickers of lightning in a receding storm front.

  "Take your time," Serehl murmured softly into Gabriel's ear. "Save your strength. All I want from you is for you to tell me what you see. There doesn't have to be any pain."

  Gabriel was weeping now, and in some distant corner of his barely conscious mind he cursed himself violently for showing such great weakness, but he could no longer afford to care. Nothing else mattered except the pain, and he would do anything within his power to ensure it never returned.

  "You're so pathetic!"

  The voice wasn't Serehl's, and Gabriel struggled to open his eyes and blink back the tears. Paul was standing behind Serehl's right shoulder, his arms crossed, looking at his old friend with cold disgust.

  "You're so fucking weak! It's only been ten minutes and he's already broken you. How can you give in so easily?"

  "Who is it, commodore? Tell me who you see."

  "P-P-Paul. Paul Decev."

  "And who's that? An old friend? Someone who died under your command?"

  "A ... friend. Her husband."

  "Whose husband?"

  "Mariah's." The word was a whisper and it was followed by fit of coughing.

  "NO!" Paul was now on the other side of the chair, and he seized Marc's face with both hands. "You are Marcus Dylan Gabriel! Your serial number is CS-two-five-four-dash-A-nine-seven-one-four. You are an officer of the EarthCorps Navy! It is your sworn duty to resist all forms of torture and coercion by the enemy! Do you understand, commodore?"

  "Do you understand me, commodore?" Serehl's voice thundered from Gabriel's right, and the prisoner jerked his head away from Paul. "Is Mariah your chief science officer? Do you have feelings for her?"

  "Do you?" Paul jerked Gabriel's gaze back to him. "You've always had feelings for her, haven't you? You thought that I never knew about that night on Kelatia, but I did. You're as pathetic now as you were then! Neither of you had the guts to admit your feelings for each other, so you just pretended like nothing happened! And I was the fool for turning the other cheek!"

  "No ... no, I never ... I never wanted to hurt you!" It took extraordinary effort just to force out the words. "You were my ... friend! So is she!"

  "Yes, thank you, commodore. This is all very fascinating. You've supplied me with a great deal of data." Serehl laid his compad on the console. "I think you need to rest a bit. I'll leave you alone with your ghosts."

  "You do have so many of them, don't you?" Paul said as the colonel left the room.

  Gabriel turned away and closed his eyes, and the only sound was his weeping.

  ( 5 )

  "Is all of this really necessary?"

  "I have waited ten years for this, doctor. I will not be denied my vengeance."

  "He's not the man who slaughtered your family."

  Serehl watched on the viewscreen as Gabriel closed his eyes and continued to sob like a child. "It doesn't matter. This opportunity had presented itself, and I am satisfied with using Gabriel and his crew as substitute for Admiral Holcomb."

  "Alador, look at me." N'Tai was the only officer of the twenty-sixth battle group who could get away with calling the colonel by his first name. "Your orders were to destroy Exxar-One. The longer you delay in carrying out that directive, the greater the risk of failure for this mission. And don't remind me of the Jha'Drok fleet. You and I are well aware that it could be another full day, at least, before they arrive. Are you sure you have enough infantry to seize and hold a starbase the size of Exxar-One? You're placing your personal need for vengeance above the greater good of the empire!"

  "That will be enough, doctor! Let me know as soon as the prisoner's condition is stable."

  N'Tai reluctantly nodded and returned to his work as Serehl marched out of the room.

  ( 6 )

  Both doors exploded at the same time, scattering debris into the reception hall, and several in the crowd screamed as everyone lowered their heads and huddled closer to one another. Navarr lowered her arm and seized her pulser, glancing in Lieutenant Chandler's direction. The other security officers had drawn their weapons as well and encircled the crowd like old-fashioned covered wagons during an Indian raid. Two hordes of Haal'Chai infantry poured into the room, and it was clear that the Federation officers were outnumbered two to one. But that didn't stop Chandler from opening fire and the rest of his squad followed his lead.

  Unfortunately, the Haal'Chai possessed better body armor than the EarthCorps soldiers. The firefight was over almost as soon as it began, with only two Chrisarii wounded and six EarthCorps dead.

  "Drop your weapons!" barked the lead Haal'Chai soldier.

  Navarr and the others obeyed. From the corner of her eye she could see Mister Vinnal getting ready to say something, and she silently prayed that he had enough sense to keep his mouth shut. The Haal'Chai surrounded the prisoners and several soldiers seized the Federation pulsers and rifles.

  The Chrisarii in charge pointed to the EarthCorps officers. "All of you line up against the wall!" He turned to one of his subordinates. "Search them! Make sure they're not concealing anything else."

  The soldier obeyed, motioning to three others to assist him. As expected, they were rough and lewd with their hands when they came to the only pair of female officers. The one searching Navarr squeezed her breasts and kept his hand between her legs for just a little too long. She pursed her mouth into a firm line, vowing that every one of those bastards was going to lose more than their hands as soon as this was all over. She glanced sideways at Lieutenant Percy and could see the same expression in her eyes as well.

  "They're clean," the Haal'Chai soldier said, the one who'd bee
n ordered to conduct the search.

  The squad leader tapped his commlink. "This is Brek. We have another emergency shelter secured. Are we taking the prisoners to one of the ships?"

  "Negative. Keep them there for now. We're experiencing difficulty with our transfield systems."

  "Understood."

  Navarr turned her gaze in Vinnal's direction just in time to see the man tackle the Haal'Chai guard nearest him. They both went down, but Tisiro never had a chance. Chris knew what he had been thinking, that he would be a hero if he could just catch the soldier off guard and get control of his disruptor. But he underestimated the size and strength of his opponent, and he also neglected to factor in the lack of support from his fellow captives.

  Two other Haal'Chai immediately pulled Vinnal off their comrade, and they threw the prisoner against the wall. Brek strutted across the room, pressed the muzzle of his weapon against Tisiro's brow, and blew off the man's head. Then he faced the crowd, glaring at them in ominous silence, letting them wonder if he was going to pull another from their ranks for execution. Many whimpered and cowered, clinging to one another while trying stifle their tears. After a minute or two, Brek returned to his former position and motioned for his men to take up their stations around the room.

  No one else tried to be a hero.

  ( 7 )

  Major Ri'Lmor glanced up as Colonel Serehl exited the PTL. The bridge was strangely quiet, considering the maelstrom that was taking place on the starbase whose image filled the forward viewscreen.

  "Report, major!" Serehl barked, and the first officer quickly handed him a compad.

  "The invasion is proceeding on schedule. I've highlighted the sections that we now control, but none of them are key sectors."

  "Send over the reserve units, and begin firing upon the station. I don't want it destroyed, so target non-essential sectors and systems. Use the raiders if you have to."

  "Yes, sir." Major passed the compad off to one of the other soldiers. "Sir, may I speak with you privately?"

  Serehl gave a curt nod and entered his ready room. Major Ri'Lmor followed, and as soon as the door closed behind him, he swallowed his fear and plunged ahead.

  "Sir, with all due respect, I believe that you have made a tactical mistake."

  "Be very careful, major." Serehl's tone was calm, but the seething undercurrent in it made the other soldier pause. "I have already had this conversation with Doctor N'Tai, and I will not have it with you."

  "I understand, sir, but I must ask for your reasons behind this decision. There will be plenty of time in this new war for your vengeance to be sated. Why now? Why him?"

  "My reasons are mine alone. Go carry out my orders, major!"

  Ri'Lmor looked for a moment as if he was going to protest further, but then he nodded. "Yes, sir."

  Serehl sat behind his desk. He sighed as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of a child's necklace. It was handmade, with the beads carved from a jeweled stone that was native to Worquau Alpha. That was the colony where Serehl's wife, daughters-in-law and grandchildren were living while the colonel, along with his two sons, was off fighting the war. Both of his sons commanded dreadnoughts, and while they were part of a campaign to hold the Vessat sector, someone in the Federation's military command decided to launch a campaign against the En-Thry sector, which was where the Worquau colony was located.

  The spice mines were the only thing of value on Worquau Alpha, and the other two star systems held only farming colonies. None of it would have served as a strategic victory for the Federation, and yet the fleet admiral who'd commanded the campaign slaughtered more than half the civilian population on Worquau. He claimed that they fought back, that there was a resistance movement among the general population, and no one in his chain of command questioned him. Serehl's family had been among the fatalities.

  Less than two months later, Serehl lost both his sons in battle, and since then he had waited patiently, suffering in silent agony, only to have his government tell him that Fleet Admiral Holcomb would not be called forth to answer for his crimes. But even worse was the decision to sign a treaty of peace with the Federation, instead of bringing them to their knees first. That was why he'd been so eager to join Vi'Sar's rebellion. If the Quorum of Elders did not have the honor to finish the war, then the Haal'Chai would do it for them. Serehl stood and placed the charred memento back in his pocket. It was time to have another session with Commodore Gabriel.

  ( 8 )

  "What was that?"

  "What?"

  "I heard footsteps outside." Joshua crept to the door of the bedroom to peer into the living room.

  "You're hearing things again! Get back in here!" Tjase was more afraid than he let on, and he grabbed Josh's arm.

  Ever since the main systems had gone off line, the boys had sequestered themselves in Tjase's bedroom, using the emergency lever inside the door's com panel to pry it open and keep it there. None of the quarters were equipped with emergency lighting, so all the boys had was one flashlight, and Joshua gripped in his right hand. He pointed the powerful beam at the front door, certain that he had heard the pounding of several feet in the corridor outside.

  "Come on!" Tjase yanked his friend back into the bedroom and shut off the light. "You're going to waste the battery, and there's nobody out there!"

  "How do you know?"

  The Murdohn held up the scanner that he had found in the same drawer that held the flashlight and an medkit. "Duh! Are you always this retarded, or do just enjoy pretending to be?"

  "Shut up!" Josh punched Tjase in the arm, hard.

  "Ow!"

  Tjase was about to punch back, but a distant, thundering explosion interrupted the fight, and Josh grabbed the flashlight and switched it on. "That wasn't very far away."

  "Those warships are firing at us!" Both boys ignored the tremor in Tjase's tone.

  "What does the scanner say?" Josh snapped.

  "I don't know. It's range isn't that far, and I don't know how to adjust it."

  "Let me see it." Josh traded the light for the scanner, and he crouched against the wall as he keyed in several commands. "There. You're right. There's been some heavy damage to this docking sphere."

  Another explosion could be felt in the decksole, but it was more distant than the last. Josh remembered his mother telling him once that before modern geological science allowed for the development of technology that helped control the stress of tectonic plates, people on Earth used to suffer earthquakes. That was what this felt like now, a minor earthquake, and a third explosion gently shook the walls.

  "That one was much closer," Tjase muttered.

  "They're firing at the docking spheres and some sections of the primary and secondary hulls," Joshua narrated. "But this is odd."

  "What?"

  "The force rating of those blasts is barely level two. They only want to cripple the station, not destroy it."

  And that was when fourth explosion violently rattled the walls and something exploded in the living room. Both boys dived for cover as the world seemed to completely shatter around them.

  ( 9 )

  Gabriel hadn't heard the doors open, but he felt Serehl's hot breath against his cheek and he cringed.

  "Are you ready, commodore? Shall we conjure up a few more ghosts?"

  Gabriel gritted his teeth and steeled himself for the pain. He didn't know how much time has passed - it felt like several hours and he wasn't sure if he had lost consciousness or not - but it had probably been only a few minutes. He refused to give Serehl the satisfaction of a reply.

  "Resistance is futile, commodore. Or perhaps I should call you Marc. We are getting to know one another rather intimately, are we not?" Serehl keyed a few commands into his control pad. "I have found Commander Decev and brought her here. She's in another room, just like this one, strapped into a chair just like yours." He slowly circled Gabriel. "Before you die, you will listen to her screams, will hear her beg for my mercy just as you did,
and then I will take her life." Serehl was about to continue when a sound interrupted his monologue. It took him a few seconds to realize what it was.

  Gabriel was laughing at him. The sound was more like croaking and coughing than real laughter, but it was unmistakable nonetheless. Serehl's finger started for the button on his control pad that would deliver fresh voltage into Gabriel's frayed and fragile nervous system, but then he stopped and decided to try another tactic.

  "Did I say something funny, Marc?"

  Gabriel squinted in the harsh glare of the overhead light, trying to focus on his captor's face. "You stupid ... son-of-bitch!" A cough. "Mariah is on the Dauntless. She's ... nowhere near the station."

  "Yes, that was true until just a couple hours ago," Serehl replied smoothly. His good eye focused on his prisoner's face, and he delighted in the sudden absence of humor from the commodore's haggard countenance. "Our new tactical systems are capable of detecting a ship even when it's cloaked, and we attacked the Dauntless as soon as she came within weapons range. I assure you that Commander Decev is as much my prisoner as you are."

  Gabriel didn't want to believe it, but he knew it was possible. While he hadn't received any communiqués from McKenna in the last couple days, he knew that there was nothing stopping her from leaving a science team at Gateway Prime and bringing the ship back to Exxar-One. She might have found something that warranted a report in person instead of a message through the unsecured channels of hyperspace. Or something else may have happened to force her return.

  "Yes, commodore, you have no choice but to believe what I am telling you." He tapped a key on his pad. "Tell me who you see now."

  Gabriel cooperated. Anything was better than the excruciating pain caused by the bio-implants, and since only he could see whomever Serehl had conjured from his past, he could lie and get away with it. "It's my father again." In fact, it was Paul standing a short distance away, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression oddly neutral.