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

by GARY DARBY

  “I would have to agree, Scoutmaster,” Jadar said as Dason squirmed just a bit at being in the spotlight of Tarracas and Jadar.

  “Well, I never can wax philosophical like the Scoutmaster here,” Rosberg said as he eyed Jadar, “but I have to admit Jadar, there were times when I had serious doubts that we’d ever find you or ever know what actually happened to you.”

  Jadar nodded in understanding and replied, “Sir, in all honesty, there were times when I thought I’d never be found, either.”

  “That I can understand,” Rosberg answered, giving Jadar a gentle squeeze on the shoulder. “After twenty years of being marooned, you may be a little on the thin side, but you look good.”

  Jadar grinned and ran a hand over his now clean-shaven face. “Thank you sir, it’s amazing what a little BeardOff, a haircut, a long, hot shower, a full stomach, and a fresh uniform can do for one’s looks.”

  Rosberg flashed Jadar another smile before he turned to peer at the sweeping console and the triad chairs in the convex shaped room.

  In an aside, he muttered to Shar and Tarracas, “Did you two ever think that you’d be standing on the bridge of a Mongan warship?”

  Motioning to Dason to join them he gave Dason a gentle slap on the back. “Heck of a job, lieutenant, in more ways than one.

  “We received your transmission with the stellar coordinates of all those lost scouts Out There, and rest assured, once this is over, the first order of business will be to go find them and bring them home.”

  “Sounds great, sir, thank you,” Dason answered.

  Rosberg nodded at him before commenting, “Now, speaking of business, is the image of you two standing next to that block of Kolomite ready to be sent to Adiak Peller?”

  “Yes, sir,” Dason replied. “And we’ve attached your recorded message. Zephyr Four is standing by to transmit.”

  “Send it,” Rosberg ordered.

  Dason gave a quick nod and tapped on his comms button, “Zephyr Four, this is Thorne.”

  “Go ahead,” Shanon replied.

  “General Rosberg has authorized the transmission, send the message, and wait for an answer before docking your ship in the hangar bay.”

  “Understood,” Shanon replied, “transmitting now.”

  Several minutes went by with everyone waiting in quiet expectation. Finally, Dason heard through his earpiece, “This is Zephyr Four, we have the acknowledgment that they received our transmission, and we’re inbound to the hangar.”

  Dason nodded to Rosberg. “They responded to our transmission, sir.”

  “Good,” Rosberg replied. “That gives us a little breathing room. Once your Zephyr is aboard, set course for Sarpens, max speed.”

  Seconds later, the Mongan warship entered n-space, bound for the Sarpens system. Rosberg nodded in satisfaction and turned to the assembled scouts.

  “Let’s talk about this Faction you captured. Jadar, I have to admit, I sure did a double take when I heard your claim that this man is the spitting image of Kavon Peller? It’s been almost twenty years, you know.”

  “I know, sir,” Jadar replied. “I may have forgotten a lot of things in the last twenty years, but Kavon Peller’s face is not one of them. There hasn’t been a day that I haven’t thought of him and the team that I left behind.”

  He hesitated before adding darkly, “And there hasn’t been a day that’s gone by that I haven’t cursed Peller for what he did to me, and to Deklon’s team.”

  Shaking his head firmly, he said, “No sir, I haven’t forgotten nor will I ever forget that mug.”

  “Sir,” Dason asked of Rosberg, “when you and my father were looking into the Pellers, did you come across anything that alluded to another son, perhaps even a twin?”

  “No,” Rosberg answered in a flat voice. “But the fact is, we weren’t looking.”

  He turned to Shar and asked, “What do you think? Can we dig into the databases to find out if that’s the case?”

  Shar shook his head and frowned. “Sorry sir, neither the Intrepid nor the Zephyrs have that sort of information in their computer banks.”

  “So,” Jadar acknowledged with a grimace, “we may either have a wild coincidence or we could have the real deal. And no way to find out.”

  Doctor Stinneli, who had been standing nearby and just listening, now spoke up. “That may not be the case.”

  “Eh?” Rosberg muttered. “What’s that? Doctor, do you have an idea?”

  “A long shot of an idea,” Stinneli admitted.

  “Let’s hear it,” Rosberg ordered.

  “A DNA match,” Stinneli stated. “Do you know if Star Scout Command took a reference sample of Kavon Peller’s DNA at the time of his death? It’s fairly standard practice.”

  Rosberg considered Stinneli’s question before answering, “I can’t say for certain, but the Intrepid carries all Navy and Star Scout data files, including the classified report from Veni. If they took a DNA sample, it should be in there.”

  Nodding at Rosberg’s answer, Stinneli said, “If the report has the information I can do a buccal swab on our captured friend and then run a real-time polymerase chain reaction test. The computer will tell us if we have a match to within ninety-five percent accuracy.”

  Rosberg turned to Dason and asked, “How long until we rendezvous with the Intrepid?”

  “Close to eight hours,” Dason answered.

  “And is our Gadion sufficiently guarded?”

  “Yes, sir,” Dason replied. “We’ve got him tied up, and Scouts Alvaro and Utlander have him under guard in an empty compartment—well, an almost empty compartment.”

  Rosberg grunted at Dason’s comment. “And what does that mean, exactly?”

  “Sami boarded the Faction’s ship,” Dason explained, “and found the container that has the Aal that we removed from his abdomen.”

  He gave Rosberg a thin smile. “Sami’s got the container sitting just in front of our Faction friend.

  “Every so often, he taps on the container with the forceps I used to pull the thing out of his stomach, and grins. I think the Faction is getting Sami’s message loud and clear.”

  A slow smile crept over Rosberg’s face. “One part of me finds that repugnant, another part of me loves the idea.”

  He turned to Stinneli. “Doctor, first thing after we rendezvous, I’ll check the Intrepid’s database. If Kavon Peller’s DNA report is in there, then we’ll go with your plan. If there’s a match, then maybe, just maybe, we’ve caught ourselves a big break.”

  Ten hours later, the Intrepid and the Mongan warship sat side by side. Onboard the Navy vessel, General Rosberg stared at Doctor Stinneli and asked, “You’re sure?’

  “Absolutely,” Stinneli replied. “I ran the test three times, including a variable number tandem repeat, to be sure. Even though the file states that the DNA is of ‘Kavon Franklin,’ it matches our prisoner. In fact, from the profile I can tell you that they are monozygotic twins.”

  “Wait,” Jadar said, “monozygotic twins?”

  “Identical,” Stinneli answered, “the same as you and Deklon.”

  “So you’re telling me,” Rosberg stammered. “that we’re holding a son of Adiak Peller?”

  “Definitively,” Stinneli answered, “according to Imperium law, you need a birth certificate or a paternity test to be certain of that.”

  “But based on what we know now about Veni and afterward, I’m comfortable in saying that yes, he’s Adiak Peller’s son, and the twin brother of Kavon Peller.”

  “Good enough for me,” Rosberg replied decisively. He gestured toward Dason and directed, “Bring him in.”

  A few minutes later, Dason and Sami marched the Gadion into the Intrepid’s ready room. Rosberg motioned towards the nearest chair and ordered, “Sit.”

  The man glanced at the others gathered in the room before easing himself into the high-backed chair.

  Rosberg took a stance in front of him, his face hard, and his eyes cold and steely. “In
case you’re wondering, we’re sitting at a point about a light-year out from Sarpens Two. Does the name Sarpens Two mean anything to you?”

  The man hesitated for a split second before muttering, “Other than that it’s in the demilitarized zone, no.”

  “Uh huh,” Rosberg sneered. “Well, I don’t believe you for one millisecond. You hesitated for an instant, which tells me that you know exactly what’s happening at Sarpens Two.”

  Rosberg’s jaw muscles tightened and he leaned even closer. “And that makes you an accomplice to mass murder.”

  The thin man, who had kept his eyes averted from Rosberg, now whipped his eyes up to meet Rosberg’s stony stare.

  “That’s right,” Rosberg answered. “We know about the device, and we are aware that you’re going to try and use it at Sarpens Two.”

  The man’s rigid body, the nervous licking of his lips, told Dason that Rosberg had hit a nerve. Of more importance, it was evident that the Faction knew that Rosberg and his team were onto the Faction’s plan.

  Rosberg leaned over and put his hands on the chair’s armrests, leaving him practically nose to nose with the Gadion. Rosberg’s countenance was like granite, and his voice was low thunder. “So, you’d best listen to what I have to say.

  “My scouts aren’t going to die, but if they do, you’re going to die with them. And the only way you can save your own sorry life, is to help me save my scouts.”

  He jabbed a finger right at the man’s nose. “If that thing explodes and my scouts aren’t off Sarpens Two, you’re going to have a front row seat because I guarantee that you’re going to be right there with them.”

  The man shifted his weight in the chair, his eyes darting around the room as if looking for a way to escape.

  Rosberg’s laugh was a sharp bark. “Forget it,” he replied. “You’re not going anywhere but to Sarpens with me, and as I said, the only way you’re going to save your miserable life is to help me save my scouts.”

  “And just what makes you think I have anything to do with that?” the Faction asked. “I think you’ve got the wrong man.”

  “No,” Rosberg answered in an assertive tone, “I believe that we have exactly the right man.”

  He again leaned forward, his eyes boring into his captive’s. “After all,” Rosberg hissed, “I would think that the son of Adiak Peller would have a lot to do with what’s happening on Sarpens Two.”

  The silence in the room deepened to the point that Dason thought he could hear his own heartbeat. Rosberg never took his eyes off the Gadion, nor did the Faction avert his eyes from the general.

  “That’s right,” Rosberg replied and hooked his thumb toward Stinneli. “That swab of spit he took? He matched your DNA to that of your brother Kavon’s DNA sample from his remains on Veni. Guess what? It’s a perfect match for his twin.”

  The seconds ticked by until the man swallowed, took a breath, and muttered, “What is it that you want me to do?”

  Rosberg leaned back with an expression of deep satisfaction and crossed his arms. “Nothing much,” he replied. “All you have to do is convince the Faction commander in the Sarpens system to evacuate his people, both on the ground and in surrounding space.

  “Tell him that you’re bringing in the nova device early per orders from the ‘Supreme Leader’ and that they’d better clear out because you’re under orders to explode the thing no matter what.”

  Peller shook his head vehemently. “He won’t buy it.”

  “You better hope he buys it,” Rosberg snapped. “Because, don’t think for a second that I won’t put you back on your ship and put it in orbit around Sarpens.”

  “Your oath,” Peller croaked “It—”

  “Doesn’t allow me to take ‘innocent’ life indiscriminately,” Rosberg roared. “You sir, are anything but innocent!

  “My suspicion is that if I dig deep enough that I’ll find that you’re not only involved in Elder Tor’al’s kidnapping, but that you supplied the slaver’s spit that they used on him.

  “From what I’m beginning to suspect about you Pellers, I wouldn’t be a bit surprised to find out that you and your father have your dirty hands deep into the slave trade. And, the slavers are using Zombie Blood that you and your filthy gang manufacture and sell to them.”

  Dason jerked upright. He and Brant exchanged quick glances. In Dason’s mind, the pieces suddenly snapped together of what had happened on Marsten’s World and Pegasi Three.

  The Faction had taken Tor’al to those two worlds not only to begin the SimLife construction process, but also to infuse the elder with the psycho hypnotic drug.

  “You can’t prove any of that,” Peller snapped.

  “I can,” Dason stated. “All I have to do is to send Elder Tor’al a message requesting that he rendezvous with us and then we let him get a good look at you.”

  Dason started to apologize for interrupting, but Rosberg held up a hand to stop him along with a quick nod of approval.

  Rosberg’s gaze was hard, penetrating. “So, it would appear that we can bring in a firsthand witness, Peller.

  “Now, are you going to cooperate or shall I order you returned to your ship with the same power packs and sans communications and placed into orbit around Sarpens?”

  Peller sat motionless for several seconds before he sighed in despair. “You realize that this probably will end with all of us getting killed, right?”

  “Perhaps,” Rosberg returned, “but if we do, there is one less of you, and, small though it may seem, that means that the galaxy is a little better place.”

  He straightened and a little smile of satisfaction played across his lips. “And I’m perfectly at peace with that.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Star date: 2443.115

  Geneva, Switzerland, Home of the Imperium

  Sipping the hot, lime-colored brew, Adiak Peller, the Imperium’s Supreme Leader, inhaled its wisps of aromatic steam, inhaling deeply and letting the vapors pour over and through him.

  The beverage was an expensive concoction of herbal teas from several worlds, and he demanded that a steaming pot be available at all times.

  It didn’t matter to him that to harvest one particular type of exotic tea leaves, the gatherers, all young children, had to climb down inside the crater of a bubbling, gaseous volcano; which had erupted several times, killing all the young ones in a scalding, searing broth of lava.

  Nor did he care that a second blend of rare tea leaves were stolen by slavers who used their Zombie Blood drugged slaves to murder local, legitimate growers of the leaves and take their entire harvest, which consisted of exactly two kilograms of leaves; a full year’s worth.

  None of that crossed Peller’s mind. The only thing that mattered to him was that not only did he find the potion pleasing to the taste buds but it calmed his always frenetic and suspicious mind.

  Right now, he needed a clear head to plot out his next steps of conquest. Moreover, that would come once he put the Sadocs and the Combine in their place.

  Their rumblings of rebellion did not sit well, but he had planned the perfect demonstration of ultimate power that would quell any current or future thoughts of breaking away from his empire.

  Soon that display would not only bring the Sadocs and Combine back in line, but no star system anywhere would dare challenge his rule.

  A soft chiming interrupted his thoughts, and he swiveled around in his plush chair to peer at the floating icon, which displayed the image of an exploding star.

  He swallowed another small mouthful of his drink before he reached out to his console and opened the communication's link. “Yes?” he answered.

  The head and shoulders of a woman appeared in the icon’s place. She brushed back a lock of ash blond hair. “I’ve finished with the remotes and done several test runs. It is now fully operational and under your sole control.

  “Once you send your command codes, the propulsion and force field systems will come online. I’ve preprogrammed the traje
ctory and velocity to the two-hour window that you wanted, which should give our people ample time to clear the system.”

  She looked around at the chamber as if inspecting its interior. “Everything is ready for you to engage the device.”

  Peller inhaled and felt power course through every fiber of his being. To hold in his hands the ability to explode a star!

  No one in the history of humanity had held such power, and now it belonged to him and to him only.

  “Superb,” Peller replied smugly, drew in a deep breath that puffed out his chest, and let it out in a long satisfying exhalation.

  He savored the feeling for several seconds before he leaned forward and asked, “And what of my ultimatum to the Sadocs Premier and the Combine Czar? Is that ready for transmission?”

  “Yes,” she replied. “We’ll deliver it approximately four hours before detonation. That should give them adequate time to divert any commercial or military vessels in the area.”

  “Excellent,” Peller responded and sat back to rub his hands together, gloating at the thought of how the Combine and Sadocs would react to his threat. “We want to do as little damage to their economy as possible. Those vessels will come in handy as we expand.”

  He paused and then asked as an afterthought, “And what will the majority of the Sadoc and Combine populace see in their skies from the explosion?”

  His trusted lieutenant pursed her lips together in thought and then answered, “I would think it will be the most frightening thing imaginable.

  “Their outer colonies will experience brightness greater than several magnitudes of a lunar full moon.

  “And their capital planets will have a new star in their sky with the luminance of Venus magnified ten times. And that should last for approximately three days.”

  Her mouth lifted up at the corner in a crooked smile. “There won’t be any doubt what they’re seeing, and once you transmit your message over their commercial communication networks, there will no doubt as to who is responsible. It will be the greatest show of military capability and strength that anyone has ever seen.”