“Yeah, my head hurts,” Emma said, “but, you’re really helping me here,” she flashed the dazzling but wholly insincere smile.
“It just takes a bit of time and practice,” Billy modestly deflected the praise as he stared at a poster of four well-dressed young men who appeared to be wearing more make up than his appearance conscious grandmother usually did.
“My dad would go mental if I ever turned up looking like that,” Billy smiled indicating the poster.
“I think they’re quite cool,” Emma replied from the table “I suppose you’re a classical music man?” she questioned.
“No, not really,” Billy countered, “My dad’s into Italian Opera and when he has a drink he thinks he’s Enrico Caruso.”
“Who’s that then?” Emma asked.
“A famous Italian tenor, died years ago,” Billy said absent-mindedly looking at another poster.
“I’m more kind of machine music, Human League, Soft Cell and Gary Newman, that sort of stuff,” Billy continued, being careful not to mention the Thexxian musicians in a band called “Splarge” that he found particularly enjoyable.
“My mum says that Gary Newman needs a good dinner or two,” Emma smiled mischievously.
“She might be right,” Billy grinned, and had to agree; the memory of the very pale and very thin lead singer/composer flashing through his mind, “he is a bit on the skinny side.”
“Hey, you want to listen to some Duran Duran?” Emma enthused rising from her seat behind the table.
“Yeah, sure,” Billy replied as brightly as he could manage, not all that excited about listening to a singer who seemed to sound like he was constantly in pain.
“I think they’re brilliant,” Emma chirped happily as she trotted over to her clock/radio/cassette player that doubled as an alarm to get her out of bed in the mornings.
“I liked their early stuff better,” Billy commented, “a real good old-fashioned gutsy rock and roll band, then they kind of went all Spandau Ballet didn’t they?”
“You’re in very real danger of becoming a square, Billy Caudwell,” Emma chided as she dug through the collection of cassettes scattered on her bedside table.
“Well, just shoot me now,” Billy said absent-mindedly as he watched the tall blonde girl, her face set in determined purpose, as she sought out the desired tape.
God, she is just so lovely, Billy thought to himself watching the object of his affections. Yet, in the back of his mind, the part of his consciousness that was the now-dead Garmaurian First Admiral, Teg Skarral Portan, warned him not to get too close. A Supreme Military Commander really did not need any emotional distraction from an unstable relationship. It was going to be difficult enough to keep the secret of his double life from his family without the added complication of romantic entanglements. But, God, she was just so lovely, he thought.
“Billy?” Emma broke into his daydreaming, “you were far away there,” she said.
“Yeah, sorry, it’s just…” Billy began and leaned forward to kiss Emma.
Seeing the movement, Emma twisted her face away and pushed hurriedly past Billy as the music from the cassette player cut in.
“What’s the matter?” a confused Billy asked, as Emma stepped over to the study table.
“It’s just…it’s just,” she flustered, trying to find an excuse that would placate Billy without exposing her true intentions of keeping him on as a free disposable Math tutor to be cast aside when finished with but without giving the impression of leading him on.
“Don’t you like me…?” Billy asked his heart slowly sinking.
“Yes, yes I do,” Emma flustered again, holding back the infamous ‘but-not-in-that-kind-of-way’ sting in the tail, “it’s just that you caught me by surprise that’s all,”
“You do!? Well, surely you guessed that I really liked you?” Billy smiled, his confidence growing, as Emma sat down to her books once again.
“Well, yes, I suppose I did; I just didn’t think you’d want do anything about it before the dance,” she said coyly, trying to keep it as ambiguous as possible.
Sitting at the table, Emma silently cursed herself. The defence of ‘you-must-have-misread-the-signs’ had bitten the dust. She now had to find an alternative exit strategy to extricate herself from the predicament.
“But, we can do something about it now?” Billy questioned joining her at the table.
“Look, can we focus on the maths, here?” Emma countered trying to work her way of the maze, “I just need some time to take it all in…it’s just so sudden.”
“I’m sorry if I’ve upset you, Emma,” Billy said sensing something was not quite right.
“No,” Emma responded shakily, gently taking hold of Billy’s wrist “I just didn’t expect…so soon…look, we should leave this until Thursday and the dance; then we can start going out together properly. I really want to understand these equations, and I can’t if my mind’s…” she chose her words carefully.
“Yeah, sure,” Billy smiled, his heart leaping, and took up his pen to set Emma some problems for what they had been working on.
“Thanks, Billy,” Emma smiled gently squeezing his wrist, relieved to have bought herself some more time to get out of this increasingly awkward situation.
Oh dear; this is going to get very messy, Emma Wallace thought to herself.
Chapter 12
The Nezadir Galaxy, Bardomil-Alliance Frontier
“What are they up to Scanners?” the Ship Commander of the Universal Alliance Ranger Class patrol vessel, Clements, asked hunching over the Scanner monitor.
“I don’t know, ma’am,” the Scanner Technician, a young Cerador named Tharrum replied, “I’ve never seen this kind of activity before.”
“They’re up to something,” the Ship Commander, a Thexxian named Gallus Takkrienen muttered softly, “I can feel it in my bones.”
On the Scanner screen, a single Bardomil M-Cruiser with the bent gull-wings was loitering just within its own side of the frontier. Beside the M-Cruiser, four Flying Devil gunships seemed to be providing a security screen. The Flying Devil was a simple saucer design with two horn-like projections to the rear of the vessel, which produced the electro-magnetic drive. The drive sparked angrily, as the vessel moved, giving it the appearance of a flaming Devil. A dozen Harpoons, single-seat fighters shaped like a curved arrow-head that were the mainstay of the Bardomil Imperial Fleet, scampered and swooped through the small formation providing picket duty amongst the host of tumbling space rocks.
“What are they up to?” Gallus muttered in frustration as she watched the Harpoons blast at the slowly tumbling and rolling rocks with their laser weapons, “I’d entertain any speculation,” she added to the hawk-like Scanner Technician.
For some unknown reason, the M-Cruiser had to be stationery in the area and the Harpoons and Flying Devils had to protect it from the flying rocks.
“I’d be happy to share it if I had one, ma’am,” the equally puzzled Technician replied.
“It just doesn’t feel right, Tharrum,” Gallus sighed, “notify the Magellan to keep an eye on this little gathering.”
“Aye, ma’am,” Tharrum replied and ordered to signal the Explorer-class Scientific Survey ship, Magellan, which was in the area.
The more sensitive and accurate scanners of the Magellan could capture and relay a far superior quality of data than the Ranger-class patrol ship.
Built originally by the Garmaurians for covert surveillance, the Ranger was nearly obsolete by their standards. The inability of any species to discover the Ranger had meant that the design had changed very little in several centuries. More suited to policing, the Ranger was not designed for battle. Consequently, the Ranger was poorly armed although it did have force-shielding protection and a Trion Drive for long range patrols. Two long, cylindrical, energy-hungry Thrust Engines sat on a heart-shaped super-structure that gave the Ranger its shape. But, with only one medium-yield pulsar-cannons for armament, it was badly outgunn
ed by the M-Cruiser and the Flying Devils just over the frontier.
“Magellan reports eye-on, ma’am,” Tharrum announced.
“Very well,” Gallus replied, “Navigator, take us in for a closer look.”
“Aye, ma’am,” the Navigator, another Thexxian, replied from his console.
The Command Cabin of the Ranger was laid out in a semi-circle with three consoles to the left and two to the right of the Ship Commander’s seat. To the left of the Ship Commander was the Weapons And tactical Officer or WATO, the Flight Engineer, and the Navigator; to the right, the Communications Officer and the Scanner Technician maintained their vigils.
“How close do you want to get, ma’am?” the Hubbart Navigator asked.
“Close enough to see, but don’t crowd them,” Gallus replied, “Just stay this side of the frontier.”
“Aye, ma’am,” the Navigator replied.
No sooner had the Navigator spoken than Gallus felt the Clements move away from her station.
The two massive Thrust Engines drawing energy from the proto-star reactor drove the Ranger out towards the Bardomil position. In the Command Chair, Gallus activated her own personal Display Screen. The side of the Command Chair detached itself on a long, spindly telescopic arm that pivoted into place in front of Gallus like a dinner tray. When the Screen finally whirred and clicked into place, a two dimensional image of the Bardomil contingent came into sharp focus.
The stationery M-Cruiser surrounded by the Flying Devils and the darting Harpoons still lay amongst the rocks that floated and drifted across Gallus’ screen.
“Any indication of what they’re doing?” Gallus asked the Scanner Technician once more.
“It looks like they are collecting rocks, ma’am,” the Scanner Technician replied.
“What?” a puzzled Gallus asked.
“Just exactly as I said, ma’am,” Tharrum replied, “they’ve just taken in a small rock through their forward air lock.”
“What are they...” Gallus asked.
“Maybe they’re doing some exploratory mineralogy,” The WATO, another Thexxian, butted in.
“There’s nothing of any value out there,” the Scanner Technician answered.
“Rock being ejected, ma’am,” the Scanner Technician added.
“What is going on?” a frustrated Gallus blurted once again and tried to focus her Screen image on the air lock of the M-Cruiser.
In close-up, the image was blurred and grainy, but the discernible shape of a rock was visible emerging slowly from the rectangular black aperture.
“Was that the same rock that went in?” Gallus asked, suddenly forming a thought in her mind.
“Unknown, ma’am,” the Scanner Technician replied honestly, “I’m retrieving data and analysing.”
“Well?” Gallus asked impatiently.
“It appears not, ma’am,” the Scanner Technician answered, “the rock being ejected is smaller and a different shape than the one that was just taken aboard.”
“What’s so special about that rock then?” Gallus mumbled to herself.
“Nothing, ma’am,” the Scanner Technician picked up on her question, “there are no metals, no precious minerals, nothing.”
“There must be something,” Gallus stared at the image more intently.
“We’re at five thousand kilometres from the Bardomil position,” the Navigator explained.
“How close are we to the frontier?” Gallus asked.
“One hundred kilometres,” the Navigator answered.
“Right, nobody sneezes or we’ll be at war,” Gallus said sternly.
The Clements was as close to the frontier as they dared. Any nearer to Bardomil territory and there would be a major incident. The tension in the Command Cabin was high; however, the crew trusted Gallus Takkrienen. Gallus had played a lot of brinksman-ship with Bardomil vessels over the last year and seemed to know just how far to push them.
“The M-Cruiser has picked us up on their scanners,” the Communications Officer announced.
“Stay calm everyone, we’re on our side of the frontier, let them have a good long look,” Gallus answered.
For several seconds that seemed like hours, Gallus held her anxious crew in check with her calm and confident manner as the Bardomil scanning beams swept over the Clements.
“Another rock being ejected, ma’am,” the Scanner Technician added to the tension.
“The same one they just took aboard?” Gallus challenged.
“No, ma’am,” the Scanner Technician responded, “it’s the one they took aboard just prior.”
“So, they’re testing them for something?” Gallus speculated as the screen image showed a small rock tumbling and rolling slowly away from the M-Cruiser.
“Would it be worth picking one of those rocks up, ma’am?” the WATO asked speculatively.
“No,” a distracted Gallus replied, “If they’re rejecting these rocks, then they obviously haven’t got what the Bardomil are looking for.”
“The Flying Devils are changing course, ma’am,” the Scanner Technician warned, “They’re heading straight for us.”
“Very well, keep your hair on kiddies,” Gallus warned as she watched the four Flying Devils start to manoeuvre in her direction on the screen image.
Now, Gallus Takkrienen was convinced that the Bardomil were up to something very secretive and, hence, very dangerous to the Alliance.
“Challenge them, Comms,” Gallus instructed.
“No response, ma’am,” the Communications Officer responded.
“Well, keep trying,” Gallus ordered as the Flying Devils seemed to be forming into a rough line formation that was rapidly closing on the frontier.
“Still no response, ma’am,” the Communications Officer called out anxiously.
“Engineer, get the force-shielding up,” Gallus ordered starting to feel anxious herself, “WATO, get the pulsar-cannon activated.”
“Shielding established!” the Flight Engineer barked.
“Pulsar-cannon ready,” the WATO said more calmly.
“Are they still not answering?” Gallus asked the Communications Officer.
“No, ma’am,” the reply came back.
“Notify Fleet Command, that we might have an incident here,” Gallus said as calmly as she could manage in front of her crew.
“Do we withdraw, ma’am?” the WATO asked.
“No,” Gallus said grittily, “we stand our ground; if they cross the frontier then they start a war, not us.”
“Ma’am, we can’t handle four Flying Devils,” the WATO explained.
“I’m well aware of that,” Gallus responded as she watched the Flying Devils hurtle towards her on the screen image.
“They’re getting awful close, ma’am,” the Scanner Technician alarmed.
“I see them,” Gallus responded her own level of anxiety rising rapidly.
“They’re closing on the frontier,” the Scanner Technician called out.
“Come on, come on; turn around!” Gallus urged the Bardomil Flying Devils as they approached the line on her image that indicated the frontier.
Whatever the Bardomil were up to out there it couldn’t be worth starting a war over, Gallus considered. Yet, the four Flying Devils were heading straight for her position on the Alliance side of the frontier.
“They’re opening fire!” the WATO yelled and Gallus saw the tell-tale tiny yellow streaks of laser fire on her screen image.
“Inform Fleet Command,” Gallus began before the Clements was hit by Bardomil weapons fire, “Bardomil have opened fire upon us; repeat opened fire upon us.”
The Ranger craft, although force-shielded was shaken like a rag doll in a child’s hands. Crew members were flung from their consoles as the Bardomil laser bolts struck home.
“Navigator, get us out of here!” Gallus ordered as she clambered back into her Command Chair.
“Do we return fire!?” the WATO yelled as the Clements was shaken once more by the Bard
omil lasers.
“Negative!” Gallus replied and resumed watching her screen.
The Navigator; having resumed his seat at his console, quickly swung the Clements around and engaged the massive Thrust Engines. As the Clements beat a hasty retreat from the action, she shook under the impact of laser fire once again.
“They’re over the frontier!” the Scanner Technician yelled.
“Message from Fleet Command, return fire only as last resort,” the Communications Officer shouted.
“Give me the strength to live!” Gallus muttered the old Thexxian curse at the sheer stupidity of it all.
“Clarify, ‘last resort’, Comms,” Gallus ordered.
What did Fleet Command mean by ‘last resort’? The Bardomil outnumbered her, were chasing her ship and were trying to kill her and her crew, how desperate did the situation need to be, she grumbled to herself.
“Alliance Star-Cruiser exiting Trionic Web ahead of us!” the Scanner Technician yelled as the Clements was hit once more, “it’s the Vanguard!”
“That’s more like it!” Gallus cheered.
She knew the Ship Commander of the Vanguard. He was another experienced Thexxian commander who had served against the Bardomil. The Vanguard would have the Bardomil back over the frontier before they could snap their fingers, Gallus thought.
Still scampering away from the Flying Devils, Gallus considered dropping the Clements into the Trionic Web, but then considered a more aggressive course of action.
“Navigator,” she called out, “let’s take these heroes for a little ride shall we?” she lurched about in her Command Chair, “set course to the Vanguard, please.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the Navigator smiled.
Gallus was going to lead the four Flying Devils straight into the path of the approaching Vanguard. A brief course deviation later and Gallus was feeling a lot happier about the situation she now found herself in.
First Admiral 02 The Burning Sun Page 7