by Frank Carey
Tan recalled the defenses ringing the Royal Residence and Palace. "Automated phalanx gun emplacements in a spherical array around the station. At least four patrol ships orbiting each face of the cube during tests. Four phalanx emplacements at the corners of each face as well. This gives you three layers of defense on all sides of the station."
Ciara's jaw dropped. "Tanoh, what did you do before coming here?"
"I was a smuggler, ma'am."
"Damn. I should just hire smugglers. Trainee Ohnat, you are dismissed."
Tanoh saluted, then turned and left the room through a side door.
"Lyscka!" The door opened, and the Chief Pilot walked in. "Did you call control?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"What are your thoughts?"
"He's not human. He looks human; he smells human; but he doesn't think human. Did you try to read him?"
"Yep. I have never read anyone remotely like him. I’ll be honest, I have no idea what his is, but I'm convinced that even if your trainer had disabled his ship, he would have gotten out of the cockpit and applied the paint himself before drawing the missile off using a flare pistol."
"So, he stays?"
Ciara nodded. "Yep. And see if he has any siblings or cousins we could recruit."
"You're kidding, right?"
Ciara shook her head. "Nope. We could use a hundred more just like him."
CHAPTER THREE
With Treena in the lead, the two Space Patrol pilots walked through the crowded corridors of the Cube Center for Research--the Cube for short--on their way to the launch bays where their patrol ship, the Rougarou, waited patiently for them. The cube was a huge--at least a mile on edge--cube-shaped research station in orbit around a dwarf sun. She was the premier research station in the League where pieces of the unknown were sent for analysis, storage, and disposal. Since many of these items had the potential to kill a lot of people, the station was built from hundreds of modules, each capable of ejection from the station, and if necessary, self-destruction.
Tan watched the throngs walk by and marveled at the diversity of the life forms which made up the population of the League of Planetary Systems. Humans, Neanderthal-like Goranthi, tentacled Alturans, small, canine-like Canurans, winged-dragon Basili, reptilian Sokuhl, pale Halcyons, and whip-tailed elves hurried through the corridors on their way to whatever appointments awaited them. Tan looked at his Martok copilot and saw the vestigial wings on her back, like her large eyes, a leftover from her insect past. And there was Tan himself, a werewolf-like Lysan genetically modified to look human. He found the diversity of life in these corridors invigorating.
The captain caught up with Treena just as alarms sounded down the hallway. "This is a level one security alert. All visitors to the shelters. All staff report to your stations. This is no drill," a voice ordered over the PA system.
Tan tapped the comm in his ear. "This is Captain Ohnat. My copilot, Lieutenant Salat, and I are en route to the hangar bay. What the hell is going on?"
"Tanoh, this is Farst. We've got an intruder heading your way. He's big, heavily armed, and has taken out a security team."
"Clear this area!" Tanoh yelled to the throngs running past him. "Farst, what does he look like?"
"He could be a twin to that damn werewolf model of yours."
"Shit!" Tanoh said, as the intruder came into view. He had a massive arm wrapped around the neck of Dr. Gloria Aymar, the head of the Cube's Biocybernetics Division, while waving a device around with his free hand. "Farst, I found him, and he has a hostage. Level sixteen, corridor NS113, in front of bulkhead 117-34. Get strykers down here, now!" Tanoh said referring to the Cube's contingent of cyborg Marines.
"What the hell is he?" Treena asked as she kept her pistol on the intruder.
"He's a Lysan, and he should not be here." Tan thought for a moment before holstering his weapon while the being yelled obscenities in gutter Lysan. General Spent, the Alturan commandant of the Space Patrol slid up to stand next to Tan while holding two weapons on the intruder.
"Tan, did you lose your weapon?" she asked politely.
"Ma'am, I recommend Lieutenant Salat be promoted to Captain and given command of the Rougarou. That person holding Dr. Aymar cannot be allowed to leave this area under any circumstances."
"Tan, what the hell are you going to do?"
He raised his hands with his palms forward. As the creature watched, Tan rotated them so that their backs were visible. He then spoke in high-Lysan. When he finished, he turned to the General. "I'm going to do something extremely stupid. Wish me luck." With that, he turned toward the intruder, then walked toward it while continuing to hold-up his hands.
"Tan! What the plark? Get back here! That's an order!" Spent said, but it was too late. He stepped forward to face the threat.
"You seem lost," he said in Lysan.
The Lysan pointed the device at him, then shook it. "Where is he? Where is Kalock Stor?"
"Kalock Stor is dead," Tan said. "King Stelgar Stor put him to death forty years ago."
The Lysan stopped and stared at Tan in disbelief. "You're human, yet you speak fluent Lysan with a high-born's accent." This flegging device says you are the source of Kalock's tracking beacon, but you're human. Tell me where he is, or I will end this creature's life!" He applied pressure to Gloria's neck for emphasis.
Tan lowered his hands, then used them to straighten his uniform. "You got me. I am Kalock Stor, the one you seek. I offer myself in trade for the woman."
This revelation had the desired result. The Lysan let Gloria go. Then he made an error. He went for his weapon. Unbeknown to the Lysan, a team of strykers had arrived. They hit him with a barrage of weapons fire. Lucky for him, they had set their guns to stun. He collapsed unconscious to the deck.
"Take him to holding and have a med team examine him!" A commanding voice said. Tan looked up and saw the Cube's new chief of security, an Erdexi alpha male named Traax, standing next to General Spent. He did not look happy. For that matter, neither did Spent or Treena who was standing next to her.
"Captain Ohnat! With me!" the General said while sliding off down the corridor with Treena and Traax following close behind.
"Yes, ma'am!" he replied as he ran to keep up with them, all the while wondering if he would have been better off letting the Lysan shoot him.
CHAPTER FOUR
Tan sat in the conference room and read a book on his comm unit while Treena paced like a caged tiger. He glanced up and watched her for a moment.
"You seem tense, Captain. Is there a problem?" he asked the newly promoted officer.
She turned and faced him with fury-filled eyes. "What the hell were you thinking, Tan? That creature is twice your size and looked like it could eat you for lunch and leave room for desert. And how the hell do you know its language?"
Tan shut down the reader function and put the comm back in its holster. "Congratulations on your promotion. It was overdue."
She glared at him.
"That creature, as you call it, is a Lysan male just entering adulthood. He is part of a clan of assassins as denoted by the tattoo on the back on his left hand. He was here to kill Prince Kalock Stor, eldest son of Stelgar Stor, King of the Lysan Commonwealth, a lovely little group of planets found on a straight line between the League and the Small Magellanic Cloud. The Lysans are an old race who discovered faster-than-light travel about a million years before the Alue and the Logash mixed it up. Lysans, both male and female, come in two flavors: mean and nasty. You've never heard of them because they consider the League and all its citizen species to be inferior. Does that help?"
She sat down next to him and gaped. "How... How the hell can you know all this?"
"Forty years ago, a young--he was twenty at the time--Lysan prince was tasked with killing his father to assume the throne of the Commonwealth. This prince refused, for he was a cultural throwback to the days when the Lysans were civilized. His refusal resulted in his exile to the barbarian-filled League of
Planetary Systems, where he assumed a new identity and has lived ever since. Before you ask, I am that prince. I am Kalock Stor and that Lysan was sent here to kill me. Any other questions?"
"I have one," General Spent said as she slid into the room. "Who performed the operation? I know some people who would pay dearly for that kind of work."
"A Coran doctor at Orinoco Station. She used advanced genetic manipulation and nanorobotic surgery techniques to turn me into a human. It took eight weeks to complete the transformation. I hear she used my fur to make a serape. Unfortunately, she died a couple of months after I left when her clinic exploded. Something about a methane leak."
"So how do you think he found you?"
"All royal personages have trackers implanted. The Coran was supposed to remove mine during the procedure, but she must have forgot."
"Or she was instructed to leave it in," Treena noted as she continued to stare at Tan.
"Treena, I'm not going to change back anytime soon, so you can stop eying me," Tan said. "Anyway, you're creeping me out."
"Sorry. It's just you and him..."
"I was about two inches shorter, and my hair was to die for," he explained.
"Can we get back to the matter at hand?" Spent asked. "Why now? Why did someone send an assassin to kill someone thought dead for forty years?"
"Good question. The only person who knew what really happened was my father and I haven't spoken to him or anyone from the Commonwealth since coming to the League. I can only think of two reasons why someone would want me dead: they found out about my father's subterfuge, or they have a grudge against me personally."
"Traax is talking to the perp. I think we should join them," Spent said. "Maybe he knows."
The two pilots stood up. "It never hurts to ask," Tan said as he and Treena followed Spent out of the room.
###
The three Space Patrol officers walked into the interrogation anteroom just as Traax walked out of the room containing the Lysan. Without a word, the tall Erdexi alpha stepped over to where a bottle of Halcyon Ice Spirits sat. Without pause, he grabbed the bottle, removed the cork, and drank half of its contents.
"Sir, you'll go blind drinking that stuff," Treena said.
"It's either that or I'll kill that plarking asshole," Traax replied.
"Let me guess. He's condescending, evasive, prone to lying, and generally unpleasant to be around?" Tan asked.
"All of the above. He's confirmed that he is here to kill a Lysan named Kalock Stor, but that's it. Is everyone in your commonwealth like that?"
"No. Since he's lower caste, he's tame. You lose a lot of nuance with the universal translator."
"How the hell did your people survive so long without killing each other?" the security chief asked.
"Strong drink. May I talk to him?"
"By all means. I'm getting nothing except a headache."
"Are you sure about this, Tan?" Treena asked. "He is here to kill you."
"My new form is confusing him. Lysans have a tendency to be inflexible. Give them the wrong toppings on a pizza and they'll go hungry before eating it. He's been tasked with killing me as a Lysan. He's having problems with me as a human. I can work with that."
Tan walked over to the door and opened it. He stepped inside and found a manacled Lysan sitting at a table in the middle of the room, while four strykers watched him.
"Why don't you four take a break?" he said while pulling a chair over so that he could sit opposite the assassin.
"Are you sure, Captain?" One of the strykers asked.
"Cheryl, I'll be fine. Go. Take a break. My friend and I will just sit and have a nice, friendly talk, won't we?" he asked the Lysan. He got only a glare in return.
The four strykers walked out. When the door was closed and locked, Tan walked around and removed the prisoner's chains and handcuffs. "Better?" he asked when he returned to his seat.
The prisoner rubbed his wrists. "Yes. I could kill you before they could stop me," the Lysan said nonchalantly.
"I don't think so," Tan said as he removed a baseball-sized object from his pocket and set it on the table. A flashing light on its top indicated that it was active. "This is a neutronic grenade which has been slaved to this switch," he said while holding out what looked like the handle from a ship's joystick. He showed the assassin the trigger he was holding down. "I release this and we both die. What is your name?"
"I think you're bluffing..."
Tan shot out of the chair and slammed his free hand on the table. "I am Prince Kalock Stor, son of King Stelgar Stor and heir-apparent to the throne of the Lysan Commonwealth. Show respect, cur, and answer my questions or I will have my guards come in here and carve your worthless carcass into bite-sized pieces!"
###
The people watching from the anteroom jumped back from the window.
"Shit!" the General said while the chief took a large quaff from the bottle.
"He trained you, Captain?" one of the strykers asked Treena.
"Yep. You should see him when he hasn't had his morning cup of coffee," she replied.
###
"Javitch, Javitch Knock of the Tsat guild, sire," the assassin replied while nearly falling from his chair.
"Tell me, Javitch Knock of Tsat, why did someone put a contract out on me after 40 years of silence. I'm not a threat to anyone. Hell, everyone thinks me dead."
"I don't know why, only that I am to kill you and deliver your head to the station orbiting Algol IV."
“Algol IV is an adamantine mining complex on the southern side of League space. We supplied the operators with the station orbiting the planet and only visit there once a year. Why the hell would the Lysan Commonwealth have any interests there?"
"I don't have a clue. All I know is that I am to proceed there with your head and present it to my customer. I have no other details."
Tan leaned back and closed his eyes to think. Seeing an opening, Javitch leapt over the table intent on killing his mark. The people in the anteroom opened the door and ran in only to find the table, sans one leg, thrown into the corner while Tan pinned the assassin to the ground with the jagged end of the missing leg pressed against the assassin's neck.
"Nice try. You lumber like a punch-drunk sloth, but nice try. You have a choice: either tell me everything or watch your blood drain from your body through the hole I make in your throat."
"I... I've told you everything. I was not made privy to the identity of the one who issued the warrant."
Still holding the leg against Javitch's throat, Tan stood up, then handed the piece of furniture to one of the strykers while the other two helped the assassin to his feet.
"Pray to your gods we never meet again, assassin, for if we do, my face will be the last thing you'll ever see."
"Take him to a holding pen!" Traax ordered.
When he was gone, Treena turned to Tan and cuffed him. "Idiot! You turned your back on him."
"Ow!"
"He did it deliberately," Spent observed. "You planned that little bit of drama, didn't you, Tan?"
He grinned. "He pissed off the Chief, and I can't let that go. Payback's a bitch. Now, he's going to be looking at non-Lysans in a whole new light. General, there is no good reason for any Lysan to be waiting for my head on Algol IV. Permission to proceed to the station and check it out. He looked at Treena. "Sorry, ma'am. I forget my place."
"He's right," Spent said while ignoring the banter. "With the way things stand, I think it’s best if you two take Rougarou to Algol IV and sort this shit out. I don't like the idea of a bunch of belligerents running around one of the League's strategic material mines. Captain Sata, you and Captain Ohnat will proceed to Algol IV and find out what's going on. I'm going to call Space Command and fill them in. Any questions?"
"A suggestion," Tan said.
"Go, Captain."
"Get rid of my tracker. I only foresee trouble if I keep it."
"I concur," Spent replied. "Get your ass down to
medical and have them remove it. They can call me if they have questions. Treena, while Tan is taking a nap, we can hammer out some details, assuming the good Captain doesn't need you to hold his hand."
"No ma'am, no hand holding!" Tan said.
"Good. Now, off with you, son, while us girls get some work done."
"I need to get back to paperwork," Traax said. "I'll catch up with the rest of you later.
The four left the room and headed to their respective duties.
CHAPTER FIVE
Tan walked into Sickbay and found an empty waiting room. "Odd, you would think with over 50,000 inhabitants, at least one would be sick," he muttered as he tapped an antique call bell on the receptionist's desk. The door leading to the exam area opened as a Canuran female wearing a white medical jump suit ran in, grabbed the much taller Tan by the arm and dragged him back through the still-open door. "Hello, Captain Ohnat, my name is Dr. Teska Cerberus and I will be assisting with your tracker removal procedure. Captain, as far as we can tell, you react as human, correct?"
"Yes, but I..."
"You are originally of the Lysan species. We have deep scanned the prisoner in holding cell six and are using him as a secondary baseline in case some of your ancestry decides to express itself. Are you pregnant?"
"I'm male, both human and Lysan..."
"Of course, what was I thinking."
Tan now knew what it was like to drink from a fire hose. The doc led him into a room containing three women and a medbed. He recognized it as one of the new class five beds recently delivered to the Cube for final check out. He also recognized two of the three women: Dr. Aymar, the ex-hostage and Dr. Irithyl, ex-queen of the elves and now on-loan to the Cube. The third was a blond elf who watched him intensely. Upon his entering the room, Dr. Aymar ran over and hugged him before launching into introductions.
"Everyone, this is Captain Tanoh Ohnat of Space Patrol and the man who saved my life. Tan, this is Dr. Losira Irithyl..."
Tan went to one knee. "Princess Irithyl, it is an honor to finally meet you."
Losira reached down and took his hand. "You are just so sweet. Now, get up and let me look at you."