by GARY DARBY
“But is this not good?” El’am asked. “It tells us that he made it to water and found food.”
“Yes,” Tor’al replied. “But I suspect that he did not find enough to sustain him, and that is why he is no longer here.”
“Had to move on to greener ponds,” Sami said.
“Pastures, Sami,” TJ responded in an exasperated tone. “Greener pastures.”
“Speaking of,” Nase replied, “you might want to look at this.”
Dason and the others turned to where Nase stood near the water’s dark edge. A broken, glowing line of luminescent rods rose in a slow wave toward the surface.
As Dason watched, a radiance spread through the pond, until the water shimmered with dozens of fluorescent speckles. Dason stared at the shimmering for just an instant before an overwhelming sense of danger gripped him.
“Get away from the water!” he shouted. “Run!”
He hit his communicator and bawled in a loud voice, “Alena, Shanon! Emergency pickup, now!”
He grabbed at Nase and spun him around, shoving him away from the pond and toward the dusky vegetation. Dason hesitated just for a second to make sure that the others had heeded his warning and sprinted away from the pool.
Behind him, loud splashing caused him to spin around at the sound. The water frothed and churned from dozens of creatures flying out of the water.
Fist-sized airborne piranhas, their scissor teeth snapping like little meat cutters, flew through the air. Their ebony, expressionless eyes centered on their prey, the fleeing humans.
Dason stumbled backward away from the onslaught, before whirling and dashing after his comrades. Large fleshy bodies crashed into his torso, their staccato pounding almost knocking him off his feet. Fierce, razor-sharp teeth bit into his uniform, trying to latch onto skin.
One creature clamped onto his exposed hand and Dason felt as though someone had taken a laz-saw to his skin, slicing into skin and muscle. Dason whipped his hand around and slammed the fishy creature into a nearby thin tree trunk.
The brutal blow to the thick trunk sent the thing airborne, but not before it ripped strips of Dason’s flesh away from his hand.
Dason whipped out his L-gun and sprayed the cloud of flying aqua-creatures with several stun shots. Dozens of the things, like charcoal-colored hail, dropped from the sky to lie quivering on the ground.
He pulled his long knife out to thrust and slice at the creatures that still gripped his blood-spattered arms and legs.
Another wave of slug-shaped beasts burst from the pond. Dason staggered away from the onslaught before sweeping his L-gun up in another spray shot at the winged carnivores.
Before more of the creatures could attack him, Dason spun away in desperation to push his way through clinging, thick foliage, looking for shelter from his attackers.
From his right, he heard the distinctive priiing, priiing, priiing, of stunners firing in rapid succession.
He turned and dashed toward the bright flashes of crimson lasers that lit up the darkness.
On his second step, the ground opened up under him, and helpless, he tumbled downward in total darkness.
Chapter Three
Star date: 2443.112
In Search of Jadar Marrel
Whipping the Zephyr around in a tight circle at Dason’s shouted order of, “Emergency pickup, now!” Alena applied full power as she slapped at the accelerator controls.
“Where are they?” she ground out through clenched jaws.
“There! Off our port quarter,” Shanon exclaimed, “Laser fire!”
Shanon jabbed at the communicator button and demanded, “Dason, we’re on our way, what’s the situation down there?”
Hearing no response, she called out, “Any scout, what’s your situation?”
“We’re under attack,” Sami responded in a rapid, tight voice. “Flying creatures came out of the lake. We can’t hold them off; there’s too many. We need immediate pickup.”
“On our way,” Shanon answered, “send up your starburst.”
In answer, a silver, glowing trail shot skyward before blossoming into a bright cherry-red ball that hung in the air.
The steady blaze of light from the shimmering sphere cast garish, ghostlike silhouettes across the ground as Shanon pointed and cried out, “There!”
“I see them.” Alena dove the little ship right at the small group. Darting, flitting dark shadows encircled the entrapped scouts and Sha’anay.
Tor’al and El’am had their swords out, slashing at the frenzied beasts while letting off rounds from their ta-guns. Next to them, the scouts kept up a constant fire with their laser weapons.
Before landing, Alena careened the ship in a tight loop around the fighters on the ground, smashing through the thick screen of beasts. Thick, fleshy bodies thudded off the Zephyr’s short bow before Alena set the craft down practically on top of the embattled humans and Sha’anay.
Moments later, Sami half carried a grimacing TJ into the vessel, followed by Nase and the two Sha’anay. All bled from gashes and ripped flesh, leaving drops of smeared blood on the deck.
Shanon helped Sami get TJ into a chair before looking around and demanding, “Where’s Dason?”
Nase shook his head, holding his hand over a bloody arm to staunch the bleeding. “We got separated. I think I heard his stunner going off somewhere to our right and nearer the water, but he never came out of the bushes to link up with us.”
Shanon slapped at her communicator and pushed her way into the pilot pod. “Dason, answer up. Where are you?”
Slamming into the copilot’s chair, she repeated her message. Again, there was no reply to her hail. In a tight voice, she said to Alena, “Dason’s still out there somewhere, and he’s not answering.”
Shanon pointed toward the port side at the darkened undergrowth. “Nase thought he heard Dason’s stunner going off over there, but they never saw him emerge from the vegetation.”
Alena’s fingers flew over the control panel, and the Zephyr shot straight up from the ground. She dipped the ship’s nose and headed it in the direction that Shanon had pointed.
“How bad are they hurt back there?” she asked in a tense voice.
“Whatever those things are,” Shanon responded grim-faced, “they can rip a chunk of flesh off in one bite. TJ caught the worst of it, but they should be okay once they get their wounds cleansed and some InstaHeal over the gashes and cuts.”
She bit down hard on her bottom lip. “If Dason got caught by a swarm of those . . .”
“Hey,” Alena answered firmly, “snap out of it. Dason Thorne is one tough and smart hombre; he’s been in some rough scrapes before and came out okay.
“He’s probably hunkered down somewhere, and for some reason we aren’t picking up his comm's signal.”
She gestured at Shanon’s panel. “Hit the searchlights and I’ll—”
Before she could finish, General Rosberg’s strong, baritone voice came over the ship’s communicator. “All Zephyr craft, this is Rosberg.
“Intrepid’s long-range sensors are picking up three unidentified craft moving into the system. Under the circumstances, we have no choice but to make the initial assumption that they’re Mongan.
“All craft will immediately cease search operations and head outbound to link up with the Intrepid.”
In rapid succession, the other Zephyr commanders acknowledged Rosberg’s orders. Alena glanced sharply at Shanon before replying, “Sir, this is Team Thorne, Zephyr Four.
“We’ve found the remains of a fire pit indicating that Captain Marrel might have been in the area. However, we were attacked by an aquatic flying creature and forced to halt our search for the moment.
“We’ve recovered all of our team except Lieutenant Thorne. We are searching for him now. Request permission to continue the search for our missing scouts.”
There was a pause before Rosberg replied, “Stand by.”
On the Intrepid’s bridge, Rosberg turned to F
ederov. “How long before we absolutely know that they’re Mongans?”
Federov turned and asked, “Chief?”
Nerea peered at his sensor array for several seconds before he spoke over his shoulder, “They’re right on the edge of my sensor range, but what I’m getting back is starting to match their electronic signature.”
“To what percentage of confidence?” Federov asked.
Nerea ran his fingers over his console before answering, “Right now, no better than fifty-fifty. But with each passing minute that level will go up, one way or the other but it also means that they’re that much closer to us.”
“And possibly picking up our signatures,” Federov finished for the chief as he turned to the general.
Nodding in acknowledgment of their predicament, Rosberg asked Federov, “If they prove to be Mongan, how long can we sit in orbit before we have to bug out of here?”
Federov deliberated over the data pouring into the Intrepid’s nerve center before saying, “No more than thirty minutes, and even then we’ll be cutting it pretty close.”
“Have they spotted us?” Rosberg asked the chief.
Nerea shook his head in answer. “Hard to tell. Their flight profile matches an intercept course, but, then again, they may just be headed for this planet, and we just happened to be in the same place as they’re going.
“They haven’t increased speed. If they had spotted us and wanted to take us on, you’d think that they would’ve accelerated to an attack speed.”
“But,” Federov answered pointedly, “It’s a safe assumption that if we can see them, they can see us, or they will almost any second now.”
Rosberg ran a hand over his face before asking, “Is there anything nearby that we can use for a rondy point?”
Federov turned and motioned toward Jeth. “Commander, other than the planet’s moons anything nearby we can hide behind?”
“Yes, sir,” she answered. “This system has a narrow asteroid belt, with several good-sized planetoids riding in orbit.”
“Show me, please,” Rosberg directed.
Jeth brought up the planetary system’s holographic image showing all six planets and the thin asteroid belt between the fifth and the outermost planet. Jeth highlighted several larger planetoids that stood out among the asteroid rubble.
Rosberg studied the image before questioning Federov, “If we stayed in orbit until the last minute, do you think this would be sufficient for us to hide behind and still be able to keep tabs on the Mongans?”
Nodding, Federov responded, “If we shut everything down except for the sensor arrays, they’d have a hard time picking us out among all the rocks. Besides, if they changed to an intercept course, we’d be long gone even before they had a chance to wave bye-bye.”
“Good,” Rosberg answered. “I’m going to allow those scouts to remain on the surface. Recover the other three craft and then make for the belt. Thorne’s team can either rendezvous with us or they can go to hyperlight and we’ll make contact later.”
Federov turned to Jeth and ordered, “Plot a course outbound for the belt. Once the Zephyrs are aboard, engage the program and get us out of here.”
Rosberg turned back to the communicator. “Zephyr Four, you are authorized to continue your search. However, once our sensors identify those inbound ships as Mongans, I want you out of there. Is that understood?”
“Understood, sir,” Alena replied.
“Good,” Rosberg answered. “If you’re chased off-planet, there is a small asteroid belt approximately 600 million kilometers out. The rondy point will be the largest planetoid in the belt; it’s located at a radial angle of mark one-six-six from the planet’s equatorial plane.”
“Sir,” Alena asked, “how much time do we have?”
“No more than fifteen or twenty minutes, I’d say,” Rosberg replied. “We haven’t positively identified these inbounds as Mongan, though we haven’t been able to rule that possibility out, either. So get crackin’ but be prepared to boost off-planet once I give the order. Rosberg, out.”
On the planet, Alena turned to Shanon and directed, “You heard the man, program the navigation plot for an emergency boost-out.”
Elder Tor’al leaned his large body into the pilot pod. “What of Dason; is there no sign of him?”
Alena shook her head, her dark hair swaying from side to side. “No, and we just found out that we might have Mongan war cruisers inbound.
“We’re waiting for the Intrepid to make a positive identification on the ships. Is there any chance that they might be some of your vessels?”
Tor’al’s mouth turned up in a snarl at the mention of the Mongans and shook his furred head. “Unfortunately, it is highly doubtful that any Sha’anay craft would be in this sector. I’m afraid that it may well be the evil ones. How soon before they arrive?”
“Soon,” Alena stated. “General Rosberg is letting us search for a few more minutes, but if we don’t find Dason by then, the general has ordered us to break off the search and make for the rendezvous point.”
Tor’al’s reply was a growl, expressing his displeasure at Alena’s pronouncement. “Then, if it comes to that, set the cub and me down on the surface, and we will continue the search for Dason, my son.”
Alena and Shanon stared at each for a moment before Alena turned to the Sha’anay warrior. “Elder, that is a noble sentiment, but I’m afraid that we couldn’t do that. You are the next Sha’anay leader.
“We all knew it was a huge risk in letting you come along. We can’t lose you, not with the possibility of an alliance between the Sha’anay and humans against the Mongans.”
Shanon turned and spoke to Tor’al. “Elder, I know that Dason would appreciate your willingness to stay behind, but I know that he would agree with Alena.”
Tor’al glanced from one to the other before letting out what passed for a deep sigh. “You are young, my human friends, but you speak with wisdom beyond your years. I am afraid that I let my emotions sway my judgment and in times such as this, that is not always a good thing.
“We will do as you say. But let us hope that we find our missing friend before we must leave the planet.”
With that, Alena turned back to her piloting. Glancing outside at the darkness, Shanon suggested, “Why don’t we start back at the fire pit and work our way out. He couldn’t have gotten very far, and if he’s hurt, maybe that’s why he can’t communicate or signal.”
Alena gave a curt nod in reply. “Good idea.”
She dipped the craft in a sharp bank and in seconds had them hovering over the circle of stones. The powerful searchlights showed dozens of the flying piranha creatures littering the ground.
The two young women scanned the terrain before Alena murmured, “He must have stunned that bunch on the run.”
She gestured toward a line of thin-leafed bushes. “There’s more of them leading into that thicket.”
“That must have been the way he went,” Shanon declared in a strong voice and turned on a powerful searchlight whose bright white beam pierced deep into the vegetation.
Alena raised the ship higher so that they could get a better view. Using her underbelly thrusters, Alena floated the Zephyr over the thin stalks of palmlike trees and scanned the foliage.
“See anything?” Alena asked.
“It’s hard to tell,” Shanon replied, “I think we’re going to have to land and do a ground search.”
Before Alena could answer, over the comm's link came, “Zephyr Four, this is Rosberg. We have an identification on our inbounds. We have three Mongan warships closing on the planet.”
He paused for a second and then asked, “Have you found Lieutenant Thorne?”
“No sir,” Alena responded. “But we believe we’ve found his trail, we just need a few more minutes.”
“You don’t have a few more minutes,” Rosberg stated gruffly. “Boost now, that’s an order, scout.”
Alena hesitated before she replied in a grave, disappoint
ed voice, “Yes, sir. We’re outbound for the rondy point, Zephyr Four, out.”
She turned to Shanon and laid a reassuring hand on her forearm. “We’ll be back, I promise. And we’ll find him.”
Shanon turned to lock eyes with Alena before she answered in a muffled whisper, “But, what if the Mongans find him first?”
Chapter Four
Star date: 2443.112
Geneva, Switzerland, the Imperium’s Great Hall
Adiak Peller, the Imperium’s Supreme Leader, stared at the pitiful man-creature that stood below the regal and ornate chair on which Peller sat in an arrogant and condescending posture.
Stripped bare to his waist, the man’s glistening torso bore scarlet stripes and blackened spots where his interrogator had gotten overly zealous and left the Antarian acid slugs on his body for too long.
Long rivulets of sweat ran down the man’s contorted face, his bulging neck, his heaving chest to fall as opaque drops that pooled, and marred the ebony floor.
His arms hung slack and loose at his side, but his hands clenched together in two tight balls. For a moment, the man swayed, unsteady on his feet, and his head hung down to the point that his chin rested on his chest.
Uncontrollable spasms caused his chest and abdominal muscles to tremble and quiver from the almost constant torture his captors had forced on him.
He ran his tongue over dry and cracked lips, and though his body was weak, his eyes still showed life, still demonstrated a willingness to fight against those who had abused and tortured him.
Defeat hadn’t entered his mind, yet.
Peller adjusted his lavender robes, ran a bony finger over the gold trim, and sat back in his chair, giving off an air of complete indifference to the spectacle below him.
After studying the swaying man below him for several minutes, he spoke in a yawn. “I have to admit, Jadar Marrel, you certainly aren’t looking your best these days.”
With a look of satisfaction that turned into smugness, he said, “I admit, I promised to give you back in exchange for the Kolomite.”