How Far the Stars (The Star Scout Saga Book 5)

by GARY DARBY

  After Rosberg returned the salute, he addressed the group. “There is a provision among the Star Scout regulations that provides for a ‘field promotion’ when a scout displays leadership abilities above and beyond the norm or when unique or extraordinary circumstances warrant such action.

  “In this case, we have both circumstances.”

  He turned to the three scouts standing next to him. “Seeing that a quorum of officers are present, of which two are of requisite field grade rank, I would ask each to affirm or rebut the following:

  “Scout Dason Thorne has shown remarkable leadership qualities and abilities under severe and trying circumstances. He has shown bravery above the call of duty in saving the lives of his comrades, as well as the life of our friend, Elder Tor’al.

  “He has displayed unceasing perseverance in overcoming what seemed to be insurmountable odds; has faced each trial with determination and selflessness.

  “Moreover, at all times he has acted for the good of the Corps, for humankind, and for our newfound friends, the Sha’anay.

  “To this end, I submit to you that he has earned the right for promotion to the brevet rank of Star Scout lieutenant, which appointment shall be made permanent when he completes the necessary Star Scout Academy criteria.

  “How say you?”

  Scoutmaster Tarracas didn’t hesitate. “I so affirm.”

  Lieutenant Renn snapped out, “I so affirm!”

  Doctor Stinneli’s strong response was, “I so affirm.”

  Rosberg nodded and peered at Dason. “Do you Scout Dason Thorne, accept this commission and charge, along with the honor, responsibility, accountability, and selfless sacrifice embodied in the Scout Oath?

  “And, do you solemnly pledge that you will carry out your assignments and postings in a manner consistent with the high standards and traditions of a commissioned Star Scout officer?”

  Dason tried hard to answer in a firm baritone, but the best he could manage was a hoarse, “Yes sir, I so affirm.”

  Rosberg smiled and turned to Tarracas. “Scoutmaster, will you help me with the honors?’

  Tarracas came to stand on Dason’s left and Rosberg stood on his right. Tarracas softly said as he pinned the subdued dark green lieutenant’s bar to Dason’s collar,

  “This was my first rank insignia; I hope you don’t mind wearing it. I’ve always carried it around as a reminder of humble beginnings, and in that regard it has served me well. Perhaps, it will serve you just as well.”

  Dason stumbled over his words but managed to get out, “Scoutmaster, it would be my great, great, honor.”

  Rosberg took off the tiny Scout Arrow that Dason had worn since that fateful day on the Alpha Prime planet, and replaced it with a larger edition that seemed to shine with a piercing light.

  Gruffly, he said, “I’m sorry that your father is not here to see this, but he must have had a premonition because this is his Scout Arrow of Light. He gave it to me just before we boosted off Earth.”

  Dason’s eyes grew misty, and he swallowed hard, trying to muster a reply to Rosberg, but his throat tightened beyond his ability to speak. The two stepped back, and by tradition, rendered to Dason his first salute as an officer.

  After Dason had returned their salute, Rosberg ordered in a low voice to Dason, “About- . . . face.”

  Dason did a smart about-face and stood before the assembled scouts. General Rosberg said in a firm voice, “Fellow scouts, I give you Star Scout Lieutenant Dason Thorne.”

  As the scouts broke out in enthusiastic applause, Dason’s team surrounded him, with Sami pounding him on the back, saying, “Looks like we did it, fella.”

  As one, the team turned on Sami. “What do you mean, we, Sami?”

  “Hey,” Sami replied, “I taught him everything I know, right? And look where it got him.”

  Out of respect, the team parted when Elder Tor’al approached to speak to Dason. “My friend, my son, Dason Thorne. I know not what this ceremony expresses, but my sensing is that your clan mates are giving you a great honor. If that is so, then it is well deserved.”

  “Thank you, Elder Tor’al,” Dason responded. “It is an honor, but also very, very humbling.”

  “As should all tributes be,” Tor’al replied.

  Just then, Captain Federov stepped into the room and motioned to the general. Rosberg strode over, and the two stood whispering together before Federov turned and strode out the door.

  “Scouts!” Rosberg commanded. “Muster to your respective ships. We’ve received clearance to up-ship.”

  Dason turned to his team and ordered, “You heard the man, let’s go. We’ve got a scout to save.”

  Chapter Two

  Star date: 2443.112

  Aboard the IntrepidX

  Rocketing his craft away from the Intrepid, Dason had his ship follow the other three Zephyrs downward toward the dazzling sandy-white planet with its splotches of pink turning to red in some areas. Only the two poles showed dark caps of vegetation, while the rest of the world appeared to be a barren, forbidding landscape.

  In Dason’s mind, if a human were to survive on this world, it most certainly had to be at one of the planetary axis points.

  In the copilot’s seat, Sami leaned forward to stare at the planet before he cocked his head to one side so that he was peering at the world sideways. “Kinda looks like a snowman with green ear muffs,” he grunted.

  “That’s not snow, Sami,” Dason answered. “It’s an intensely hot desert. No snow down there, even at the poles.”

  “Okay,” Sami replied, “then it’s a desert dude wearing green air-conditioned ear muffs.”

  Minutes later, the Zephyrs had reached the planet surface. Reaching his search start point near the foliage line, Dason peeled off from the other Zephyrs and dropped his craft even closer to the ground.

  A broken, dark line appeared on the horizon, the first hint of flora in an otherwise stark and empty landscape of small, undulating sand dunes that marched over to the horizon except just to the Zephyr’s front.

  Leveling off, Dason leaned over to survey the ground below. The wavy, windswept dunes were giving way to patchy, grayish-colored dwarf shrubs and bushes. A quilt work of thin, lead-tinted grasses dotted the ground between the scrub vegetation.

  Over the communicator he said to his team, “We’re in our search box, first lookout watch, you’re up and stay sharp.”

  To Sami he directed, “Start the broadcast, full volume.”

  “You got it,” Sami replied and tapped on the control for the outside audio volume. In an instant, the outside speakers boomed out, “Recalling Star Scout Captain Jadar Marrel, please make yourself known, repeat, please make yourself known.”

  Sami shook his head and muttered, “Between that and our parachute pyros at night, we are definitely going to wake the neighborhood up. No skulking or lurking this time.”

  Dason stared straight ahead at the horizon. “There’s only one person I want to wake up,” he muttered.

  Sami reached over and gave Dason’s shoulder a quick shake. “Hey, LT, we’ll find him muy pronto, you just wait and see.”

  Looking at the terrain passing below, Sami observed, “Besides, in all that stubby stuff, all he’d have to do is to stand up and we’d see him from thirty kilometers away.”

  “True,” Dason acknowledged. “But that’s only here—the scans show the vegetation gets much thicker the closer you get to the pole.”

  Dason felt a presence behind him and turned to find Tor’al peering into the pilot pod. “Elder,” Dason said, “I appreciate you coming along, but you didn’t have to, you know.”

  Tor’al gestured with one of his large hands toward the scenery. “And what would you have me do if I stayed behind? Listen to the cub’s constant chatter?”

  His mouth turned up at one corner. “This at least gives me a chance to provide El’am with more of the training that he so desperately needs.”

  Dason smiled at Tor’al’s response and
muttered to Sami, “I think El’am is in for a busy time.”

  Sami nodded and replied in a whisper, “And I thought Scoutmaster Tarracas was tough. I’m just glad that we’re on their side.”

  For the next several hours, Dason kept the Zephyr on its set course as he turned anxious eyes on the landscape passing below the ship. When they reached the end of their first search leg, he turned the controls over to Alena and Shanon, while he and Sami retired to the troop compartment for a bite to eat and a quick catnap.

  Dason had turned over in his reclined chair for about the tenth time in his effort to fall asleep when someone slapped his boot. He was up in an instant to find Nase staring at him. “LT, you’re wanted up front, they may have found something.”

  Dason dashed down the aisle to the pilot cabin. “What do you have?” he asked Alena in a breathless tone.

  She turned to him. “Zephyr Two thinks they’ve found a message on the ground. They’re landing to check it out; it’s too dark to get a good look at it from the air.”

  “How far away?” Dason asked.

  “Close to three hundred kilometers,” she replied. “Brant already relayed the info up to the Intrepid. They’ve ordered the rest of us to hold in place until Zephyr Two reports back.”

  Shanon gestured toward the console. “I’ve already plotted out a straight-line course to their position. We can be there in about an hour.”

  “Great, thanks,” Dason replied. For several agonizing minutes, Dason fidgeted and paced just outside the pilot pod as Alena wove the Zephyr in a tight figure eight.

  He leaped into the pilot’s compartment when he heard, “Intrepid, this is Zephyr Two. We’ve got something here. It’s a message laid out in stones that says, ‘S and S. J. Marrel. 2426.271’.”

  There was a slight pause before the voice went on, “There’s also an arrow pointing approximately planetary north. Our thought is that Captain Marrel was here and indicated that he was heading deeper into the temperate zone.

  “Obviously, the message is timeworn, and we’ve got boots on the ground searching the immediate area, but so far there aren’t any trail signs. Weatherization probably erased them, but maybe Captain Marrel left markers farther inland.”

  “Thank you, Zephyr Two,” Rosberg replied. “All Zephyrs converge on two’s position. The trail may be cold, but at least we have one clue to Marrel’s whereabouts. Rosberg, out.”

  Dason nodded to Alena, “Let’s go, push it.”

  Close to an hour later, Alena flared the Zephyr to a full stop and landed next to the other three ships. Dason rushed from the airlock and sprinted over to a small group of scouts who stood near a grouping of dark and crusty stones laid out in the sand.

  Brant gestured toward the irregular and large rocks. “Some of the rocks were almost covered over with sand, we had to dig them out. But he was smart, using the biggest he could carry, otherwise, in time the dust would’ve covered the whole thing up.”

  “Is there anything else?” Dason asked.

  Brant shook his head in response. “We’ve done a three-sixty out for several kilometers, but so far nothing other than that arrow indicating where he might have gone.”

  Dason stared at the rocks before declaring brusquely, “Food, water, shelter.”

  Brant nodded in return. “I agree. His first step would be to look for the basic necessities if the Mongans stripped him of his kit.”

  He glanced around with a deep frown. “All of which seems to be in short supply around here.”

  Brant opened his communicator and said, “Intrepid, do you have any scans showing surface water within one hundred kilometers of our area?”

  “Stand by,” Rosberg replied.

  In a moment, he continued, “Nothing in your immediate vicinity, but I’m sending what the sensor is showing. No rivers or streams, but you’ve got a number of small lakes and ponds.

  “You’ll have to split up your task force to cover them all. And by the way, you’ve got nautical twilight in seventy-five minutes.”

  “Thank you, understood,” Brant replied. He ushered the other team leaders into his Zephyr, and a few minutes later, they were poring over the sensor data provided by the Intrepid.

  “The general was right,” Brant observed. “No nearby water, so Captain Marrel would have had to hoof it into the interior.”

  Pointing at the holographic map, he gestured toward several highlighted areas. “Four search boxes centered on these regions showing water.

  “Cover what ground you can with the remaining daylight, and be extremely cautious about extended night operations. I’ve set out a locator beacon marking this spot. We’ll use it to triangulate our headings.”

  He motioned toward one particular area that showed a line of small, dark blue splotches. “Dason, you take these; they’re forty klicks out, but they’re the closest to this spot.”

  Dason gave Brant a grateful nod as it was obvious that he was giving Dason the first best chance of finding Jadar Marrel, or at least further clues as to his whereabouts.

  “Everyone set?” Brant asked. After quick nods of assent, Brant gave Dason a quick clap on the back. “Let’s go find our scout.”

  Dason sprinted back to his craft and strode to the pilot pod. “Use Zephyr Four’s locator beacon as ground zero,” he instructed Alena. “We’re going forty kilometers out on a heading of twenty degrees. The scans showed a series of small pools at that location.”

  “You’re thinking he headed for food and water?” Alena asked as she inputted the flight parameters.

  “Makes the most sense, doesn’t it?” Dason answered. “Those pools are the closest water showing on Intrepid’s sensors. The remainder of the ships will head for other water holes that are farther out.”

  At a gesture from Dason, the Zephyr rose, spun around to the correct flight heading, and sped away. Once in flight, Shanon glanced over at Dason. “We’re not going to have much daylight left when we get there. Do you intend for us to do a night search as well?”

  Dason met her frank stare with his own. “We might have to, Shanon; there’s more at stake here than just me finding my uncle, you know.”

  Shanon gave a little nod of acceptance and turned back to her flight controls. Below the craft, the once sparse foliage was giving way to thicker, lusher vegetation that soon became a wavy carpet of plant life.

  Alena tapped on Dason’s arm and nodded toward the horizon.

  Several avian-appearing creatures flapped bony wings against the mild air currents. Their long, thin, leathery necks ended in stubby, parrotlike beaks, which opened wide every few seconds as if the things were straining the air, similar to how a Terran baleen whale strains seawater for plankton.

  The Zephyr’s passing must have disturbed or frightened the things because with a quick dip of their twin split tails, they slid away from the ship and continued on their way.

  A flock of tiny birdlike creatures erupted from a stand of tall bushes that seemed to flow upward in intertwining spirals. The little avians darted in one long, flowing string through the bushes’ coils before diving downward and disappearing from view.

  “Well,” Alena observed, “the desert may have been empty of life, but you can’t say the same for this greenbelt.”

  A few minutes later, Alena put the Zephyr in a slow glide as they neared their destination. Dason leaned over to scan the ground below. “Let’s do a couple of flyovers before we set down.”

  Alena nodded in response and brought the ship to level flight twenty meters off the dim, foliage-covered surface. Shanon raised a hand and gestured off to the left. “There’s the first pool.”

  She glanced at the sensor board and said, “Now, that’s interesting.”

  “What?” Dason asked.

  “Look at the elevation scale,” Shanon replied. “This first pool is lower than the second and so on, like stair steps.”

  “Are they connected?” Alena asked.

  “Not from what I can see,” Shanon answered.

/>   “Alena, take us over each pool until we get to the top,” Dason instructed. “Make it nice and easy so that everyone can survey as much as they can.”

  “Roger that,” Alena replied.

  Dason turned to the passenger compartment and explained what they were doing to the group. “Remember, if you spot anything at all that you think warrants a closer inspection, sing out.”

  Sami piped up and said, “Uh, LT, you don’t want TJ singing, I’ve heard her and—” A quick elbow from TJ caused Sami to stop midsentence but the grin never left his face.

  The ship cruised up the shallow escarpment, going from one dark, charcoal-colored pool to the next, but without seeing any signs indicating that Jadar Marrel had ever been there.

  Reaching the topmost pond, Alena circled the area before turning to Dason with a questioning expression.

  Dason nodded at her. “Set her down. Let’s take a closer look.”

  Seconds later the little craft settled to the ground near the dark waters. In the lowering twilight, Dason led a small group away from the Zephyr.

  Motioning to Tor’al and El’am, he said, “Elder, would you and El’am search to the left?” With a quick nod of assent, Tor’al led his young protégé to one side, their weapons at the ready.

  “Sami, TJ,” Dason ordered, “take the right; Nase, you’re with me.”

  With wary steps, Dason led Nase toward the short tree line; his LifeSensor outstretched. “Your LS set to the alpha band?” he whispered.

  “Yes,” Nase replied in a subdued voice. Behind them, the Zephyr rose and began to fly in a slow, ever widening circle around the large pond.

  The two paced with slow and soft footfalls among the olive-tinted brush until Dason heard Sami’s voice in his earpiece. “LT, you might want to come see what we’ve found.”

  “On our way,” Dason replied. He and Nase loped to where Sami and TJ stood near the waterline. Seconds later, Tor’al and El’am joined the group.

  Sami swept his arm toward a small circle of stones. Dason knelt and examined their find. “Fire pit,” he stated.

  “Uh huh,” TJ returned, “but not recently used, I’m afraid.” She picked at some whitish-looking bits of material. “He must have caught and cooked something here, but these bones are pretty brittle, so this is really old.”