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

by GARY DARBY

  He leaned forward with a cruel lift to his mouth. “I just never promised in what condition I’d return you.”

  Peller leaned back with a loud, harsh laugh and gestured toward to the captain of the Imperium Guard. “Has he talked yet?”

  “Only to give his name and his rank, Supreme Leader,” the tall, muscular man answered. “Nothing else.”

  Peller’s smug expression disappeared and his eyes narrowed to slits. His fingers played across the gem-inlaid armrest, his long, fingernails tapping on the quadro-diamonds, rubies, and sapphires.

  Drawing in a raspy breath, he asked in an exasperated voice, “What about the serum? Why hasn’t it worked?”

  “He must have a very large dose of antidote in his system, sire,” the guard answered in a diffident tone. “It’s counteracting the—”

  “Then double, triple the dose!” Peller bellowed, his fury rising by the second at the thought that even in his miserable condition Marrel was still defying him.

  He thrust a thin finger at the Guard captain, who hesitated to lift his eyes toward the enraged Peller. “I want him to talk and I want him to obey every command I give.

  “Do you understand? I want him broken, stripped of every vestige of dignity and pride that he has. I want him to squirm at my feet, I want─”

  Peller stopped to suck in a breath and to wipe a hand across his mouth where white, foamy, thick spittle had gathered at the corners of his lips.

  Before he could speak again, from one side of Peller’s chair came a calmer voice. “Supreme Leader, may I remind you that such a large dose would kill him or destroy his mind, and he would be completely worthless to us then.

  “May I suggest that we gradually increase the dosage instead? I’m sure that if we do that, it will flood his body and ultimately overcome the antidote. Then he will do anything and everything that you want.”

  Breathing deeply and heavily, Peller turned hard, fiery eyes on Constance Krause.

  For her support in the High Council’s final dissolution, he had named her Imperium First Counselor. She would remain so, of course, as long as he had need of her, and no longer.

  He flipped a hand toward the Guard captain and ordered, “Make it so. Increase the dosage, slowly.”

  Rising from his chair, he pulled back his royal robes, and strode down the three ebony-colored steps to stand before his captive. He reached out to raise the man’s chin so that their eyes met.

  “Marrel,” he whispered in a cold, but fierce voice, “I will have what is mine. Do you hear me? Make no mistake, I will have everything that is mine.”

  He pushed his hard-set face even closer. “And when I’m through, you, your brother, and the brat will be the last Star Scouts left alive. You’re going to watch them all die, Marrel, every last one of them.

  “And then you’ll die. And you want to know how? The same way my son died on Veni. Exactly the same way, Marrel. I’m going to feed you alive to those flesh-eating lizards, and I’m going to sit back and—watch.”

  His laugh was a cackle as he pulled his hand back, and watched as his captive’s head flopped forward on his chest.

  He started to turn away when Jadar croaked out, “Peller!”

  Peller whirled around. He grabbed a handful of Marrel’s hair and yanked his head up. “I am the Supreme Leader, Marrel, and you will address me correctly.”

  He shoved Marrel’s head down and stepped back, wiping his hands on his robes to rid them of Marrel’s sweat and stink.

  Jadar raised his head, met Peller’s eyes, and hoarsely whispered, “Just one thing, Supreme Leader—how does it feel to have killed your own son?”

  In an instant, Peller’s face went from a shocked expression to fury at the accusation.

  “That’s right,” Jadar rasped. “You sent him to Veni, sent him to die. And for what? Nothing. He died for nothing, Peller. You’ve blamed me, my brother, all of the Marrels for his death.

  “But the truth that you will never be able to escape is that no one is to blame but you. You killed him. You. You murdered your own son.”

  The sound of Peller’s vicious backhand striking the side of Jadar’s head was as though someone had cracked a whip inside the spacious chamber.

  Jadar’s head flew back from the blow and blood trickled from his mouth and nose. He slumped to one knee as scarlet drops spattered the ebony flooring like red raindrops.

  Peller stood over him, his breathing loud and sharp, and his whole body trembling in rage. His hand flashed to the captain’s side where he yanked out the guard’s ceremonial gold dagger.

  Raising it high over his head, he twisted it so the point aimed straight at Jadar Marrel’s exposed and vulnerable neck.

  His hand trembling, he held the blade aloft for several moments, before he slowly lowered it, finally letting it drop to the floor where it clanged against the dark marble.

  Peller took a step back, breathing hard, before ordering with a dismissive wave of his hand, “Take this filth away, but let me know the instant he’s ready to answer my questions.”

  Peller whirled to stomp back up the steps and practically threw himself into his elaborate chair. He stared at the half-naked man as the guards dragged him away, his expression one of pure hatred and rage.

  As the doors to the chamber closed, Krause cautiously leaned toward the enraged Peller. “There is a matter that I wish to discuss, Supreme Leader.”

  Without taking his eyes off the doors that had just closed behind Marrel, Peller answered angrily, “What is it?”

  “Our new director of SOG has uncovered something very unusual. It turns out that the former SOG deputy is missing and—”

  “What do I care about a missing deputy in that nest of spies?” Peller snapped. “That is of no concern to me.”

  “You are absolutely right,” Krause answered in a diffident voice. “And I would never have brought such a minor issue up except that there are some very unusual circumstances surrounding his disappearance that may have some bearing on your rule.”

  Peller turned to stare at her. “I’m listening.”

  “The deputy’s name is Teng Rhee,” Krause explained. “Several weeks ago, he was dispatched to Epsilon Four to interrogate captured members of the uh—organization.”

  “Stop!” Peller exclaimed, leaving Krause’s mouth sagging open at his outburst.

  “Are they still being held?” he demanded.

  “Not for long,” Krause replied in a crisp tenor. “I’ve dispatched a contingent to get them released and bring them back here. I’ll personally interview them when they arrive.”

  “Good,” Peller replied. “And when you do, make sure you find out what they divulged to this SOG person. The less SOG knows, the better. I have some doubts as to their loyalty to our undertaking.”

  “Of course,” Krause returned. Peller motioned for her to continue. “Unbeknownst to the former director,” she explained, “Rhee left his station and disappeared.

  “However, after his disappearance, the director continued to receive reports, supposedly sent by him.

  “Someone at Epsilon Four was covering for him, providing daily reports to SOG to give the impression that he was still there and interrogating the prisoners.”

  Peller’s fingers drummed on the armrest’s soft cushion. “Go on,” he snapped, “get to the point.”

  “Of course,” Krause murmured. “At approximately the same time that Rhee disappeared, Admiral Stannick dispatched the IntrepidX, the newest and fastest ship in the fleet on a classified starside mission.

  “I’ve tried to find out where that ship went, but I’ve yet to locate the information. But the Intrepid returned to Epsilon Four, where she was quickly resupplied and then sent back out—”

  “The Intrepid,” Peller stated, “is the ship that carried Rosberg and Tarracas to make contact with the Sha’anay.”

  “Another mission,” Krause observed, “that wasn’t entered into the records until well after the fact.”

 
“You’re implying,” Peller questioned tartly, “that Rhee’s disappearance and the Intrepid’s mission are related?”

  “I believe,” Krause answered, “there is no doubt of that, and I suspect that Admiral Stannick was either the one sending in the false reports to SOG, or at the very least, knew about the deception.”

  Peller rose from his chair and paced on the large oval dais. All the flooring in his audience room was a gleaming black, except for the floor on which his chair sat. The crimson tint was his personal choice and mirrored the bloodlust in his heart.

  Folding his hands and arms inside the long sleeves of his robe, Peller glanced at Krause out of the corner of his eye.

  If the counselor is telling the truth, he thought, what is the admiral up to? Is Stannick planning something against me, against the Faction?

  The admiral had many allies in the Imperium, of that he was aware. Only the fervent intercession by her friends had saved her to this point.

  Perhaps though, his counselor was providing him with just the ammunition he needed to rid himself of Stannick and replace her with his own loyal minion.

  “I take it from your tone,” Peller asked, “that you consider Stannick’s actions disturbing?”

  “Yes,” Krause replied bluntly. “She may be planning to strike out on her own. After all, she surely must know that her days are numbered as the Fleet Commander and that she may confront worse than just demotion or forced retirement.”

  Peller nodded at Krause’s assessment and paced a few steps more before he turned to ask, “What were the dates of those Intrepid missions, particularly the second voyage?” he asked.

  “I’m not entirely positive,” Krause conceded. “But I believe sometime close to 094 or 095.”

  Peller stopped dead in his tracks. “094 or 095?” he hissed. “Are you sure?”

  Krause gave him a reluctant nod in reply. “I’m not entirely certain, but from what I’ve been able to gather, I believe it was close to those days.”

  Peller stood stock-still for several seconds.

  Had it been the Intrepid that had attacked his SlipShip facility in the Planemo Passage? If anyone had the resources to break through his shields of secrecy, it was SOG.

  Somehow, the SOG agent Teng Rhee had found out about his base and convinced Stannick to send a warship, in this case the IntrepidX.

  His base was demolished, reduced to molten rock and fused rubble. That he knew of a certainty; what he didn’t know was the SlipShip’s fate.

  Did the Intrepid destroy it too in the attack or did they capture his one-of-a-kind craft?

  Not for a second did the fate of his scientists or the Faction guard at the base cross his mind. To him, they were meaningless, less than pawns in the grand game that he played.

  Their only usefulness would be if they were still alive, and could reassemble that team, build another SlipShip, or a fleet of such ships. Krause didn’t know it, but she had unlocked the mystery for him of how and who had attacked his seemingly ultrasecret base.

  Now, if it indeed had been the IntrepidX, then without a doubt there was one person who would have all the answers he sought of what happened to the SlipShip and her creators.

  Whirling on Krause, he ordered, “Stannick. Bring her to me. And don’t be gentle about it either. As of this moment, she is relieved of her command and stripped of rank and title.”

  He spun back to stare at the ornate doors and spat out, “She will join the Marrels, and share in their treachery and their impending death.”

  Chapter Five

  Star date: 2443.113

  Aboard the IntrepidX

  “Zephyr Four,” Rosberg demanded, “did she boost out of there in time?”

  Federov nodded in response. “She got away, and the Mongans aren’t following.”

  The heightened tension in Rosberg’s neck and shoulder muscles ebbed away. He blew out a breath and muttered to Tarracas, “Scoutmaster, there are times when I sure feel my age and my giddy-up has done giddy-upped and gone.”

  Tarracas gave him a knowing smile. “I sometimes feel the same. The mind stays young, but unfortunately, the body does not.”

  Taking a last look at the sensor banks, Federov stepped close.

  “We’re stationary behind the planetoid, Zephyr Four is inbound, ETA is ninety minutes.”

  “And the Mongans?” Teng Rhee asked.

  Federov scratched at his chin and gestured toward the sensor consoles. “They’ve parked themselves between the third and fourth planets and seem to be just sitting there.

  “Near as we can tell, they’re not doing much of anything. Either they haven’t spotted us or we’re not that interesting to them. They’re not making any effort to head our way,”

  “So they’re between us and where we need to be,” Rosberg stated.

  “Pretty much,” Federov replied.

  “What about taking them on?” Teng asked. “If you came at them from behind this rock, would you not have the element of surprise on your side?”

  Federov considered Teng’s question before he gestured toward the vu-screen that showed the three Mongan warships. “Maybe. It would depend on how rapidly they can react.

  “It’s true that we are faster, more maneuverable than they, but if we don’t take at least one of them out in the first pass, we could be in a world of hurt very quickly.”

  He gave a little shrug and grimaced. “We might win the battle, but—”

  “Your ship would take serious, perhaps catastrophic damage,” Rosberg noted.

  He shook his head at Federov. “No, captain, as much as I would love to see the Navy have an opportunity for payback, we need to wait this out. Who knows, they may be here for mere minutes or hours.”

  For the next several minutes, Rosberg patrolled the bridge, checking every so often on the inbound Zephyr’s flight and the Mongan posture.

  He had just finished pacing the bridge for the umpteenth time when Federov said to him over his shoulder, “They’re ten minutes out, general, and no movement from the Mongans. Appears that they slipped past them.”

  Just then, Jeth strode up and muttered something to Federov. He looked startled for an instant before he quickly ordered, “Pipe it through to my ready room.”

  Federov took several steps and leaned close to Rosberg, “Sir, you have a live transmission coming through. It’s Admiral Stannick.”

  The small group made their way to the captain’s ready room. Rosberg went to the vu-screen, and a moment later, the image of Admiral Stannick appeared.

  Rosberg greeted her and then said, “Good to see you, Cait, but something tells me this isn’t a courtesy call.”

  The middle-aged woman gave Rosberg a quick smile. “No, and we only have a few minutes so I’ll get straight to business.”

  The view shifted and Rosberg exclaimed, “Shar Tuul!”

  Shar bobbed his head at Rosberg. “Good to see you, too, general, but as the admiral said, we’re short on time.”

  “Go ahead,” Rosberg urged, “we’re listening.”

  “Lieutenant Staley and I just returned from the demilitarized zone,” Shar explained. “They’ve moved all of our scouts to Sarpens Two, general.”

  His countenance grew long as he said sadly, “Some our scouts put up a fight. We’ve got dead and hurt scouts, general, and they’ve been left on their own, without any outside help or resources.”

  Rosberg’s hard clenched fists matched his visage. In a growl he asked, “How did you find that out, Shar?”

  “Witte, sir,” Shar replied. “Somehow she managed to steal a platoon transport and make it off-planet. She sent out an n-space message.”

  Shar’s voice hardened and he said, “Just before the Faction destroyed her ship.”

  Rosberg’s hands clenched and unclenched, and his cheeks turned a dark, ruddy color. “Faction scum,” he voiced bitterly. “Go on, what else?”

  “The Faction used our own transports,” Shar continued, “and disguised themselves as Imperium
Guard. Sarpens Two has a half dozen weapon platforms in orbit around the planet, and they’ve set up an interdiction ring around the planetary system. Only guard ships are going in or coming out.

  “On top of that, they’re warning all commercial and private vessels not to come within ten light-years of the system.”

  “Do you know why our scouts fought back?” Rosberg asked bluntly.

  Shar shook his head in answer. “I don’t know, sir, but from what I understand, the Faction stood off in space and just blasted away until our folks had no choice but to surrender.”

  He dropped his head to stare at the floor. “L-guns against space-based weapons wouldn’t have been much of a fight.”

  “No,” Tarracas murmured, “it wouldn’t. Any idea of why they relocated everyone to Sarpens Two?”

  “No, Scoutmaster,” Shar returned. “There has to be a reason, of course, but I haven’t been able to find out why.”

  “Pardon the interruption, general,” Teng Rhee said. “If I recall correctly, Sarpens Two is a pretty isolated world and uninhabited, isn’t it?”

  “That’s right,” Rosberg answered, “does that have some bearing on our discussion?”

  “Perhaps,” Teng Rhee responded. He turned to Federov and asked, “Captain, can you bring up the star chart showing Sarpens Two?”

  Federov stepped to the console and moments later the seven planets of the Sarpens system floated in midair. Teng pointed at the image and asked, “Can you show the neighboring star systems and the distances in between?”

  Busying himself at the console for several moments, Federov straightened and motioned toward the hologram, “This shows out to a hundred light-years.”

  Teng let his eyes rove over the stellar sphere and he brought a finger to point at a particular spot. “The nearest star system is Proteus Beta,” he murmured, “at fifteen light-years away. Is it inhabited?”

  Federov shook his head. “No. The nearest inhabited system is the Sadoc colony of Magnus Six, at twenty-six light-years distant.”

  “Where’s the nearest Combine world?” Teng asked.