Return to Dakistee
Copyright ©2011 by Thomas J. DePrima
Kindle version - 11.L.o1
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Cover art by Martin J. Cannon
ASIN: B006M5BHMM
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An appendix containing technical data pertinent to this series is included at the back of this book.
* * *
Creating a series like this would be impossible without
support from many people.
I usually dedicate the book to the hard-working folks who helped put it all together, and people who supported the effort in various capacities,
but I'm dedicating this book to the fans who have made this series such a phenomenal success, and who keep asking for more. I'm delighted to add this new book to the series after a hiatus of five years.
* * *
This series of Jenetta Carver novels include:
A Galaxy Unknown
Valor at Vauzlee
The Clones of Mawcett
Trader Vyx
Milor!
Castle Vroman
Against All Odds
Return to Dakistee
* * *
Other novels by this author include:
AGU: Border Patrol series:
Citizen X
* * *
When the Spirit... series:
When The Spirit Moves You
When The Spirit Calls
* * *
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Appendix
Product Description
* * *
Chapter One
~ March 10th, 2285 ~
"Open up, damn you!" Doctor Vlashsku screamed with all the force of his being, but his verbal attack proved as ineffective as the physical assaults preceding it. He had been talking, yelling, and then screaming at the enormous door for several hours in a bid to gain entry, but all efforts had been for naught. Lasers and plasma cutters hadn't even marred the surface, much less cut into it, and the harsh light from portable Chembrite Light panels reflecting off the surface seemed to be the only energy the door didn't soak up like a sponge.
"It's no use, Edward," the Nordakian scientist finally admitted as he hung his head and leaned gently forward until his forehead made contact with the door. To a casual observer he might seem to be in prayer, entreating God for divine intervention, or at least inspiration, but this posture was only the result of weariness from prolonged physical effort. Control over his chromatophoric cellular distensions began to return as his mood calmed, and his skin, until now fluctuating between a bright orange and a deep red, began to assume its normal, medium-aqua coloration.
Doctor Edward Peterson, leader of the expedition at Loudescott, sighed quietly and approached Vlashsku from behind. Although the tallest of the Terrans in the camp, Peterson was still a foot shorter than the Nordakian, owing to the natural height of the species. As he reached up and placed a gnarled hand on Vlashsku's shoulder, he said, "You've tried your best, Dakshiku. Tomorrow's another day. You'll feel better after a meal and a good night's sleep."
"I've already tried everything," the Nordakian said in despair. "Amer, Nordakian— even ancient Dakistian. It's hopeless, Edward. There's nothing left to try— not tomorrow— nor any other day."
Doctors Anthony Ramilo, Barbara Huften, Bruce Priestley, and Glawth Djetch had slowly moved closer from their observation positions as the two men talked.
"If only we knew what you said all those years ago to get the door open at the other facility," Peterson said somberly. "It's a pity the recorders weren't running when you screamed at the door out of weariness and frustration, but who could have guessed the door would open to a vocal command."
"This door must be of the same manufacture as that other," Vlashsku said. "It's certainly proven to be just as impervious to our cutting tools."
"Yes. And, like that door, it must operate by vocal command since there's no external opening mechanism."
"Perhaps it's time to call Space Command, Edward," Dr. Huften offered.
Peterson took a deep breath and then released it slowly before saying, "Not yet, Barbara. It would end our chances of acquiring any useful knowledge. We would no doubt be barred from this facility just as we were from the other."
"That was only because the lab contained cloning equipment. The laws of the Galactic Alliance required Space Command to confiscate the equipment so it couldn't be used. We're lucky they didn't confiscate the clones we made."
"The cloning process was initiated accidentally," Doctor Djetch said, "and Space Command realized we never intended to manufacture clones in violation of Galactic Alliance law. I am gratified they finally recognized our brethren as citizens and accorded them the full rights of all sentient beings without reservation."
"That's how it started," Peterson said. "But once they learned of the impregnability of the material used in the lab's construction, the restriction included the whole facility as well. The cloning equipment is long gone, and yet we're still not allowed near that facility. If we can get inside this one, we can download the contents of its main computer before they learn of the discovery. Who knows what wonderful information we might discover about the ancient people of Dakistee if it isn't first filtered by Space Command censors?"
"But as with the other facility, we're locked outside without a key,
" Doctor Anthony Ramilo said. "We've already spent a week trying to open it."
"I have confidence that after a good night's rest Dakshiku will manage to open it."
"Then you're far more confident than I," Doctor Vlashsku said.
"If that Carver women could solve the riddles of the other facility, we can solve this one."
"Azula Carver is brilliant," Vlashsku said. "I would not presume to compare my meager abilities with hers. If she were here, I have no doubt we would already be inside."
"Brilliant? It took her weeks just to figure out how to shut down the cloning equipment," Peterson countered.
"She proceeded slowly and methodically, just as any good scientist should. Of prime concern was that she not cause the death of any embryos or fetuses during the deactivation. In order to be assured of that, she had to fully understand the entire process first."
"Since we've already exhausted every means at our disposal, how do you suggest we proceed, Edward?" Ramilo asked.
"We should start over with the vocal sessions. Beginning tomorrow morning, we'll each spend two hours talking to the door."
The other scientists groaned aloud.
"Well, we can't just give up," Peterson said.
"Why not?" Huften asked. "I admit I have nothing more to say to this door. What I have said has already been repeated several times, and we're gotten nowhere. If I have to keep screaming at it, I refuse to be held responsible for what I say. And if there's no cloning equipment inside this facility, Space Command wouldn't dare lock us out again."
"Don't be so sure. I've learned never to underestimate the arbitrary nature of military types."
"If we contact Space Command, it will probably take weeks for them to get a ship here. That will give us lots of time to go hoarse from shouting at the door."
Peterson fumed for a few minutes and then said, "Oh, alright. I'll make a call— but not to Space Command. I'll call Commander Carver."
"She's an admiral now, Edward."
"An admiral? Already?"
"Edward, it's been sixteen years since she was last here. You still don't listen to the news do you?"
"Why should I? It's always depressing and rarely reported accurately. Either the newsies are so eager to file their stories that they don't take time to get the facts straight, or the editors and publishers alter the reports to favor management's points of view because they're only interested in promoting their own agendas. The only thing I trust, somewhat, is the obituaries page. There are few ways you can distort the report of a death."
Huften rolled her eyes before saying, "Okay, Edward, believe what you will— but make the call.
* * *
"Our contact on Dakistee has filed an urgent report," Councilman Ahil Fazid announced as he rose to stand in front of his chair at the Raider Lower Council table. The powerful group was in regular session and all members were present in the meeting chamber. "You'll remember that just a few days ago I spoke of our attack on Mawcett, now known as Dakistee, following the discovery of the cloning equipment there. Well, our head man on the planet reports that the same group of scientists that discovered the almost impregnable facility at that time has found a similar facility in the same region. According to the report, the new facility appears to be clad with Dakinium, so the archeologists have thus far been unable to gain entry. Most importantly for us—," Fazid paused a second for effect and looked at each of the other council members around the orotund table, "they have not yet reported their find to either Space Command or their own headquarters."
"You want to launch another attack on the planet, Ahil?" Councilman Bentley Blosworth asked.
"No, Bentley; at least not yet. It would certainly be pointless to attack the site before they manage to open the facility. What I'm suggesting to the Council is that we position a force of sufficient size that can charge in and confiscate whatever the facility contains once the scientists manage to open it. Our attack would be nothing so crude as the last one where we were forced to rely on Tsgardi mercenaries."
"How many people do we presently have on Dakistee?" Councilwoman Erika Overgaard asked.
"We have at least one individual at every one of the large excavation sites. At major sites, we have two or more. We've closely monitored all dig activities for some time to ensure we are immediately aware of momentous discoveries. The technology of the former inhabitants was far superior to what we, and everyone else, originally believed existed at the time, and we don't want to risk losing out again. The last treasure trove of technology and information elevated Space Command to a position of undisputed power in this part of space. Another such significant find can push them even further ahead, with us falling further behind. I don't think we can ignore this new discovery."
"So what are you asking of the Council, Ahil?" Chairman Arthur Strauss asked.
"I'm seeking agreement on a plan of action where we move as many people as possible into place. They will be ready to rush in and grab whatever is found in the new facility before Space Command can get their hands on it."
"How many people and what other support are you proposing we dedicate to this operation?"
"When the cloning equipment was found, there were only a few dozen small dig sites on the planet. That number has grown to more than a thousand. And with the influx of archeologists and laborers, towns have sprung up to support the expanding population. We already have a presence in each town for offering— leisure time activities and for the distribution of narcotics, but few if any of those people are trained for open warfare, nor are they capable of executing a takeover. We also have a problem with weapons availability and personnel transportation. For the most part, our hidden weapons caches are limited to hand-held lattice pistols. We do have some of our people in ground transportation positions, with a select few possessing small shuttles, or at least having access to them. But we need larger weapons, explosives, and a means of quickly moving hundreds of people to the dig site at Loudescott when they're needed, and then evacuating them just as quickly."
"Shoulder-mounted weapons and explosives shouldn't be a problem," Chairman Strauss said, "but the transportation will. Perhaps you should start repositioning people as soon as possible using the available surface transportation."
"Yes, Arthur, my staff has already developed plans for using the available planetary transit systems, but they're woefully limited."
"I have no problem with the plan, in general, but we'll have to look into the transportation issue."
"In a related issue," Councilman Neil Soroman said, "assuming you are successful in acquiring the technology, how will you get it off the planet and safely away?"
"Obviously, we'll need a ship."
"Yes, but how big a ship?"
"Many of our people will, hopefully, be able to resume their former roles, but the leaders, once they drop their cover, will have to be taken off the planet with whatever it is we acquire."
"So, at the very least you'll need a small transport at your disposal."
"Yes, preferably one that can land on a planet or moon somewhere and hide until the pressure's off. A small warship would be best, because it can participate in the attack and would have the speed to escape afterwards."
"Let's have a show of hands," Chairman Strauss said. "Everyone who feels we should commit the assets and put this operation into effect, raise your hand."
* * *
"Lt. Commander Christa Carver reporting to the Admiral as ordered," Christa said after being admitted to Jenetta's magnificent office on Quesann and coming to attention. Jenetta's cats raised their heads and looked at Christa, but didn't rise from their prone positions against the walls on either side of the room.
"At ease, sis," Jenetta said, smiling. "Have a seat, unless you'd rather make yourself a mug of coffee first."
"I could use a cup," Christa said, moving towards the beverage dispenser. "I got your message as soon as I woke up and figured it must be important or you would've waited until we have dinner
tomorrow night, so I came down before I even grabbed any chow. "
"By tomorrow night, you'll be light-years away from here."
Christa's mind began to race as she ordered a mug of Colombian, but she didn't say anything to Jenetta until she had taken a sip and was walking towards the desk. "The Hephaestus is going out? I thought we were supposed to remain in port for another three weeks."
"Not the Hephaestus— just you."
"Me?" Christa said in surprise as she settled into an 'oh gee' chair that faced Jenetta's desk. "Where am I going without my ship?"
"I received an importunate message from Dr. Edward Peterson this morning."
"The archeologist?"
"The very same. He's still on Dakistee at the Loudescott dig site."
"Why did he contact you?"
"His message was very terse. He only said my presence is urgently required. But since we know how he feels about Space Command, there can only be one reason why he would entreat me to come."
"They've found something they can't handle and need you to pull their chestnuts from the fire?"
"That's what I assume. If it's another cloning lab, I do hope they didn't engage the equipment this time. That issue has finally dropped off the activist radar screens."
"What else could it be?"
"I don't know. And I won't know until you get there and send me an encrypted report. If they've found something of critical importance— something so important that they acknowledge it should wait for me to travel back to Region One, then I don't want to treat it lightly by sending a routine request through Space Command for any ship in the deca-sector to investigate."
"But why me? I'm just getting comfortable in my role as third watch commander aboard my battleship."
Return to Dakistee (A Galaxy Unknown, Book 8) Page 1