by GARY DARBY
He paused just long enough to let Peller digest the offer. “And as you can see from your own sensors, our ship is the only one in the area, and there’s just the three of us on this ship. We’ll be waiting.”
Dason reached out and cut off the transmission. Dason and Jadar watched the sensor board with tense faces. The minutes seemed to stretch out to infinity and Dason was beginning to think that Peller wouldn’t take the bait.
Then, at a crawl, Peller’s yacht began to close the distance between the two ships. Dason exhaled, his breath sounding loud to his ears. “Whew, he’s moving, albeit cautiously. No doubt running sensor scans in all quadrants just to make sure.”
He turned to Jadar and gestured toward the doorway. “That’s part one, you ready for part two?”
“On it,” Jadar replied and spun away. A minute later, he returned with a struggling and bound Lavon Peller. Dason opened the communicator. “General, we’re ready here.”
“Roger,” Rosberg returned, “stand by.”
Dason turned to Lavon. “In a few moments, I’m turning over the communicator to you.”
He paused before speaking in a meaningful, sharp fashion, “You’ve paid a visit downstairs, and there’s a reason they’re called devil dogs. So play your part and play it well, and I promise you, you won’t pay a second visit. Got it?”
Lavon squirmed in Jadar’s grasp for several seconds before he gave up and gave them a dispirited nod. “Got it, but no promises that they’re gonna believe me.”
Jadar placed his mouth beside Lavon’s ear and in an ominous tone pointed out, “You better hope they believe you because thanks to your papa I was marooned on a gosh-awful world for nearly twenty years.
“And trust me when I say if it weren’t for my scoutmate here, I wouldn’t hesitate to throw you in that wolf den, bound and shackled and watch as they rip you apart.”
Lavon’s eyes widened and his face noticeably lightened in color after Jadar finished his not-so-veiled threat.
Just then, Rosberg’s image appeared over the vu-screen. “Starting the program in thirty seconds on my mark. The image will go blank, turn white and blink twice.
“That’s your cue that we’ve infiltrated their communication’s system. If you don’t see it blink twice, then cut the link on your end. Got it?”
“Yes, sir,” Dason answered. He stepped away from the console with his weapon drawn and trained on Lavon. Jadar unfastened Lavon’s wristlocks and stepped away with his weapon drawn as well.
Rosberg’s gruff voice came across, “Starting the program and . . . Mark!”
Dason wet his lips in nervous anticipation as he watched both Lavon and the holographic image. Seconds later, the hologram went completely white, blinked once, twice. Dason nodded at Lavon to begin.
Lavon inhaled and began speaking in a hesitant voice at first, but at a prod from Jadar’s L-gun began to speak with more authority. “You know who I am, so listen well because time is critical.
“There has been a change in plans. I’ve taken control of the device and on my father’s orders have started it inbound. You have less than twenty minutes to clear the system.”
The image of a man with a sharp, hawkish nose appeared on the screen. He stared at Lavon, at first in disbelief, before speaking in a sputtering voice. “What? This is not according to the original─”
Lavon cut him off. “We’ve had to change our strategy. This order comes directly from the Supreme Leader, my father.
“Now, if you want to get caught in the explosion, keep arguing, I don’t care. We’ve activated the remotes on the device and it’s inbound to the star. See for yourself.”
The image changed, showing two large asteroids, one behind the other, speeding headlong toward the glowing orb of Sarpens.
“There you have it,” Lavon affirmed. “You’ve seen for yourself. I’ve delivered the message, and now I’m going to power up my ship and go into hyperspace so as to get far enough away. I suggest you send word to your units to do the same.”
The hologram went dark, leaving Lavon Peller staring at the console. Jadar stepped forward, grabbed both arms, and slipped the locks back on Peller’s wrists. He led the shaken and white-faced man away, returning a minute later.
“What do you think?” Dason asked in a soft voice.
“Would’ve convinced me,” Jadar replied. “Let’s just hope the beam was tight enough so that you-know-who didn’t catch the transmission. Speaking of, where are they?”
Dason checked the sensors. “They’re closing, should be inboard in about ten minutes.”
“Whew, cutting it pretty close, aren’t we?” Jadar responded. He glanced at Dason and asked, “You ready for this?”
Dason met Jadar’s questioning stare. “I’m ready for anything to save my father.”
Jadar smiled and slapped Dason on the back. “Me, too.”
Both watched as Adiak Peller’s yacht closed on the Mongan warship until finally it slipped inside the hangar bay. “Closing doors, pressurizing the bay,” Dason stated.
Seconds later, he took one final look at the board. “One atmosphere in the hangar, let’s go.”
He and Jadar strode off the bridge, stopping long enough to pull Lavon from his locked compartment. A minute later, the three stepped into the cavernous bay and stopped to stand beside the covered cube.
With wary eyes, Dason and Jadar stared at the gleaming ebony-hued luxury ship. There was a sudden whirring sound and a ramp telescoped out to meet the hangar bay floor with a muffled clunk.
In silence, the large airlock door slid aside, and a figure appeared in the doorway. Dason’s eyes widened, and both he and Jadar whipped out their weapons and held them against Lavon’s side.
Framed by the hatch, the personage stood for a moment before it lumbered down the walkway to stand at the bottom and stare at the three humans.
“They sure are big, aren’t they?” Jadar whispered.
“Yes,” Dason whispered back, “but just remember, that’s not a real Sha’anay, it’s the SimLife that Peller created of Elder Tor’al.”
“So, why—” Jadar began, but just then two more figures appeared in the doorway, Adiak Peller and Deklon Marrel.
With Peller’s weapon in his back, the Star Scout staggered down the ramp and stood on weak and shaky legs once he reached the bottom.
Using Deklon as a human shield, Peller stared with rock-hard eyes over the scout’s shoulder at the three standing beside the Kolomite.
“Well, well, well,” he sneered. “Finally, after all these years, we find the Marrel criminals all together in one place.”
Dason’s laugh was sharp and loud. “You’re calling us criminals, Peller? You? When it comes to cold-blooded murderers, only the Mongans are worse, but not by much.
“The Sha’anay believe the Mongans are soulless and pure evil. I suspect that they’d say about the same for you.”
“Careful,” Peller answered in a cold, ominous voice, “I wouldn’t be so cocky if I were you.”
Dason met Peller’s stony glance and quipped, “Sorry, can’t help it, it’s in the genes.”
Gesturing toward the SimLife, Dason grunted, “Interesting choice for a bodyguard.”
“Indeed, an excellent bodyguard,” Peller cooed. “He’s better than a whole platoon of Imperium guards, which as I recall, you found out about the last time we visited.”
Peller paused before asking, “By the way, just how is General Rosberg doing? He didn’t look at all well after his run-in with my friend here. Not well at all, as a matter of fact.”
“Actually,” Dason responded lightly, “he’s doing fine. He sends his regards.”
“Sorry to hear that,” Peller answered in a sharp voice. “But, enough with the pleasantries. Let’s get on with it. I want my Kolomite.”
“Just the Kolomite?” Dason asked in a surprised voice. He turned to Lavon Peller. “Hear that? All your father wants is the Kolomite. Apparently he doesn’t want you.”
He quickly turned back to Peller and jabbed a thumb toward Lavon. “I suggest you take him. We’ve already discussed his future if he stays with us, and it’s not a pleasant one. Especially as he’s not very fond of our canine friends.”
Adiak Peller waved a hand in impatience. “Of course, he’s part of the deal, that’s what I meant.”
“In that case,” Jadar responded, “you start my brother across and we’ll start your son across.”
“What about my Kolomite?” Peller snapped.
“One thing at a time,” Jadar replied. “But first, we trade. Your son for my brother, then you get the ore.”
From across the ten-meter gulf, Peller stared at the three before he demanded, “I want to see the Kolomite first.”
Dason shrugged and together he and Jadar pulled back the front covering on the block to reveal the Kolomite. After Peller nodded in satisfaction, they dropped the cover and stepped to one side.
Peller pushed his weapon into the small of Deklon’s back, starting him forward. The Star Scout lurched on unsteady legs even as Jadar gave Lavon a shove to start him across the open space toward Peller.
For Dason, it seemed as if time came to a standstill as he watched his father stumble across the distance, but he was finally able to reach out and draw him close. Holding him tight, Dason whispered, “I’ve got you, hang on, we’ll get you out of here real soon.”
Jadar put out a hand and gripped Deklon’s shoulder. With a slight catch in his throat, he muttered, “It’s good to see you, brother.”
Deklon reached up and grasped Jadar’s hand. “You too,” he mumbled before giving Jadar a wan smile. “You owe me an explanation, you know.”
Jadar smiled back in reply. “That I do, and you’ll have it, too.”
“Touching,” Peller called out sarcastically. “Now, get on with it.”
Jadar gave Peller a half smile and gestured at the cube. “I hope you brought a suitable grav-dolly or mega air-truck to get this hunk of rock aboard your vessel. We’re certainly not going to lift it for you.”
“You don’t have to worry about that,” Peller answered. He lifted his mouth in a leer. “In fact, if I were you I’d worry about other things right now.”
“Oh?” Dason answered. “And what would that be?”
Without warning, the Mongan ship rocked from side to side, and Peller raised a hand toward the ceiling. “That, for instance.”
“And that would be—what?” Dason asked.
“Wait,” Jadar called out, “I know. I take it that we’re being attacked?”
“By no less than several dreadnoughts,” Peller asserted with a confident air. “And just to be clear, those are just gentle reminders to let you know that you are entirely surrounded with no place to run.”
His smirk grew wider. “So you see, I get what’s been mine all along, I get the Kolomite, and I get—you.”
Just then, the ship took another blow and shook in a violent manner. Peller nodded in satisfaction at the nearby rumbling. “So we’ll get straight to the point before my warships blow this vessel apart.”
He stabbed a bony finger at the three scouts. “And if you want to live, you’ll do exactly as I say.”
Again, the Mongan ship shuddered from another heavy laser blast, and the smell of smoke and ozone wafted through the air. Overhead came the shrieking of torn metal as if the pounding was ripping the ship’s outer skin to shreds.
Grinning, Peller raised his eyes toward the shaking overhead. “Which, by the sounds of things, might not be too long, so I suggest you cooperate, starting now.”
He gestured toward the block of Kolomite. “First things first—I want to know where you got that much Kolomite. What’s the source of your ore, and I want to know now!”
Unflinching, Dason returned Peller’s stare and in a firm, resolute voice declared, “Peller, you are an unbelievably disgusting human being. Once again, you’re willing to see one of your own sons die, just so that you get a little more power.
“What you did on Veni, you’re now willing to do again.”
Dason called over to Lavon, who stood near Adiak. “Has he ever told you what happened to your twin brother on Veni?”
Lavon’s expression caused Dason to say, “I take that as a resounding ‘no.’ Of course, considering he’s the one who in actuality killed your twin, I can understand why.”
Lavon turned to eye his father. With his voice rising an octave, he asked, “What is he talking about?”
“I’ll tell you what he’s talking about,” Jadar called out above the shrieking of torn metal. “Your father sent your brother to Veni to find Kolomite.
“Kavon was ill prepared, ill-trained, conceited, arrogant, wouldn’t listen to orders and it got him killed. Did your father ever tell you how Kavon died on Veni?”
One look at Lavon’s expression and Jadar said, “Obviously, not the truth.”
“Shut up!” Peller screamed and raised his weapon. Without hesitating, Dason and Jadar brought their guns to bear on Peller. “Don’t,” Dason stated in a hard voice.
Without warning, the ship rocked from side to side from multiple thunderous laser bolts. A series of violent shudders ran through the ship from one end to the other. Pieces of metal rained down from the overhead ceiling and long wisps of smoke curled through several long cracks.
Glowing embers floated high in the cavernous compartment, as if fireflies danced in in an overhead breeze.
“Your brother,” Jadar shouted at Lavon, “was eaten alive by flesh-eating lizards because your father cared more about acquiring power than about Kavon or about you. Just like now.”
“That’s right, Lavon,” Dason shouted over the tearing and grinding of metal. He swept a hand toward the covered Kolomite block. “He’s willing to let you die, just so that he can get this, and us. Only, he’s not going to get either.”
The ship rocked again from another direct laser bolt hit. “Peller,” Dason shouted, “you’ve been after Deklon Marrel for twenty years.”
He turned his father around to face the Pellers. “This is Deklon Marrel, my father, and that’s Jadar Marrel, my uncle. He took my dad’s place on Veni and for twenty years, my father kept it a secret and pretended to be Jadar.
“And to think you had him all along in that jail cell of yours.”
Raising his voice to be heard over the grating and ripping of metal, Dason yelled to Lavon, “By the way, before I forget, that’s not your father. It’s a SimLife, just like that fake Sha’anay.”
Dason slipped his hand inside his torso vest and pressed three distinct spots on the Mongan teleportation orb.
The SimLife Peller and the SimLife Sha’anay raised their weapons to fire but before either could get off a shot, a blue globe of shimmering light encased the three scouts and the Kolomite cube.
In an instant, they disappeared.
The SimLife Peller staggered forward in disbelief.
It raised its arms high and wide in fury. From its mouth came a guttural scream of rage and utter disbelief that echoed above the sound of metal shredding as the giant ship tore itself apart.
Chapter Eighteen
Star date: 2443.115
Aboard the SlipSter, the Sarpens System
Numbing cold from the Mongan teleportation device left Dason almost incoherent, but he managed to stammer through chattering teeth, “All safe?”
“All safe,” Shanon answered in soothing terms and held Dason close as she wrapped a survivo-blanket around him. “And all aboard the SlipSter.”
“My father, uncle?”
“Both in sick bay,” Shanon replied. “You took a little longer coming out of stasis, so Stinneli took them forward.”
“Yeah,” Sami groused, “for a while there, we thought you enjoyed being a frozen Popsicle and weren’t going to melt.”
Dason shivered violently in response. “Hardly, but I admit I feel like I’ve been sleeping inside a snow berm.”
He held out a hand to Sami. “Help me up.”
With Shanon’s and Sami’s help, Dason struggled to his feet. “What about the Faction?” Dason asked as he peered at his team who had grouped around him in a semicircle. “Did they pull out of the system?”
“We haven’t heard, yet,” Alena replied in a worried voice. “If we don’t hear something soon, it may be that we’re going to have to fight our way down to the planet.”
Just then, the sound of hurrying footsteps caused them to turn to find the Scoutmaster stepping through the hatchway.
He nodded at Dason. “Glad to see you on your feet. We just got the word; the Faction are moving away, leaving the system. Time for you to get to your Zephyr, scouts.”
“Scoutmaster,” Dason asked in a pleading voice, “Can I see my father first?”
Tarracas hesitated, but seeing Dason’s anxious expression gave a nod of understanding. “Yes, but make it quick.”
“Thank you,” Dason replied gratefully. As he ducked through the hatchway, he called out to his team, “I’ll meet you at the Zephyr. Alena, have it powered up and ready for launch the second I’m aboard.”
He gave Shanon’s hand a squeeze and headed toward the infirmary while his teammates hurried toward their waiting craft. Following Tarracas, Dason made his way up two decks to the small sickbay.
He stepped into the tiny compartment to find his father ashen-faced and struggling for breath as Stinneli inserted a micro intravenous tube into Deklon’s left radial artery.
His uncle stood to one side, his worried eyes focused on his brother.
Catching sight of Dason, Deklon waved a weak hand for Dason to come closer. Dason stepped next to his father’s bedside and leaned close. “Thank you, son,” Deklon gasped, “for getting me out of that monster’s clutches. I don’t think I could have lasted much longer.”
“I’m sorry we took so long, Dad,” Dason mumbled. “I really am.”
Deklon shook his head in response. “I’m sure you did your best.”
“Dad,” Dason whispered, “I’m sorry, I want to stay, but I’ve got to go.”