by T. R. Harris
Sherri threw back her head and let a primal scream when she saw the jaws of both aliens drop open at the mention of the word bullshit. “I swear to god, the moment we get Adam and the rest of them back onboard the Pegasus, I’m beating feet straight back to Earth, and never to leave again! I’m getting sick and tired of all you fucking aliens!”
Kaylor sat in stunned silence as he watched Sherri storm from the pilothouse. He had watched the conflict between Ruszel and Trimen, yet he did not understand what had made Sherri so upset? However, he did breathe a sigh of relief that she was gone. After all, there was nothing more dangerous in the galaxy than an upset Human—male or female.
Elision was not a particularly pretty world, at least from orbit. It had its obligatory blue oceans, white clouds and ruddy brown surface regions, yet there was a misty haze that surrounded the planet, muting the colors and giving the place a somber aura.
As the Pegasus entered the Elision star system, it continued to plow through the area faster than any ship the Kracori had ever seen. And although several ships attempted to stay up with her, they all fell to the wayside eventually. However, Kaylor did slow the ship to normal in-system speeds as Elision grew on the viewscreen; he didn’t want anyone on the surface to mistake him for a runaway. He circled the planet once while acquiring the beacon for their landing in the city of Goruis, and then the really tense part of the operation began. With several military ships covering them from the high ground, the Pegasus soon reached the point of no return—at least up until the point where she set out to destroy a fair amount of the city below.
Sherri and Trimen were frantically trying to locate what was the capital building complex—The Citadel—that McCarthy had identified as the probable location for high-valued prisoners. They only had moments to scour the skyline before Kaylor had to land the ship.
Fortunately, as the beacon guided them in, a large, ornate building complex with spires and domes appeared along their path. It made sense that such an important prize as the Pegasus should be placed next to the main governmental buildings, the same complex Furlon Dor was probably stationed within. This made the rest of the plan a little easier. Not a lot, but some.
“Everyone start searching!” Sherri commanded. The four crewmembers with ATD’s understood what she meant; Ruszel sat at the comm console in the pilothouse, trying to stay out of the way, and being ready to communicate with Furlon Dor when he linked in.
“I’m picking up dozens of energy weapons approaching the ship. And there is a small spacecraft positioned immediately above us,” Jym reported.
“We don’t need a narration, Jym; I see them, too. Try to get into the building complex and look for any mention of Humans or prisoners.”
Jym was momentarily distracted by Sherri’s blunt condemnation, so it took him a second or two to regain his concentration. There were literally hundreds of communications running from the local vicinity and into and out of the main building complex. The Citadel itself was just outside the range of the ATD’s from where the ship landed, so Jym had to piggyback—Adam had called it that—on one of these links into the buildings. With a finesse few would have suspected, Jym caught one of the stronger signals and suddenly found his awareness transferred a mile or so beyond the landing zone and into a comm room within the Citadel. There was such a cacophony of crossing messages here that Jym almost withdrew, unable to handle the noise. But eventually he was able to isolate the messages into single lines and the noise in his mind quieted.
Suddenly the comm speaker within the pilothouse crackled to life. “Pilot Ruszel Crin, this is Vice-Commander Dor, open a link.”
All eyes turned to Ruszel, who in turn looked to Sherri for guidance. She saw Jym bat his eyes several times. “Jym, stick with what you’re doing; same for you, Trimen. Kaylor, remain at the pilot controls.” She then nodded to Ruszel, and the Tel’oran flicked the comm switch.
The hard gray face of Vice-Commander Dor instantly appeared on the screen before Ruszel. All the others in the pilothouse were out of view of the camera.
“Commander Dor,” Ruszel greeted trying to appear as calm as possible under the circumstances. He was failing miserably. “It is good to see you again.”
“I have been monitoring your journey, Senior Pilot. If I did not trust the personnel who filed the reports, I would not have believed them. You have indeed brought a prize worthy of my attention. I will be arriving in five minutes with a technical team to take possession of the ship. What of the Human you have in custody? Is it still subdued?”
“Yes, Commander, drugged actually.”
Sherri and Ruszel had discussed the possibility that the Kracori may enter the ship before they had a chance to survey the building they were about to destroy. With their ATD’s and weapons of their own, they had debated whether it was preferred to let him come aboard just so he could be taken hostage. That would buy them more time to plan an escape route. Unfortunately, with the lack of a fully-developed plan, a decision regarding VC Dor had not been reached, leaving Ruszel up to his own devices.
“I commend you again, Senior Pilot,” Dor said. Ruszel could see that the image of the Kracori was moving as he spoke through a datapad. Ruszel’s heart was pounding in his throat, knowing that the Kracori warrior was on his way to the Pegasus even as they spoke. “Humans are of superior strength compared to Tel’orans. Keeping the alien subdued as such was a very wise decision.”
“I have seen what Humans can do, Commander. I did not want to take the risk. May I ask as to how many of your technical crew will be boarding? The space within is very confined, also you may wish to have a private tour so you may present yourself as an expert to all your superiors. Some of your Legend may be diminished if they seek answers from mere technicians.”
Ruszel was relieved to see the Kracori nod. “That is very prescient of you, Ruszel. I was not aware your kind was aware of our concept of Legend.”
“It was something learned of your kind at the time of the destruction of Juir, although I have not experienced it personally. And you did mention my Legend beforehand.”
“Yes I did; I remember now.” The Kracori officer seemed to be in an ecstatic mood. He had seen the reports on the capabilities of the Human ship, and now the vessel was resting on the surface of Elision, and all because of his relationship with Ruszel. The delivery of the ship to the Kracori Military Command would be forever remembered and honored. Ruszel did his best to imagine what a boost in Dor’s Legend the Pegasus would bring. And then just as suddenly as he had formed the thought, it went away. Vice-Commander Furlon Dor was about to get the surprise of his life when he boarded the Pegasus. And it would do nothing to enhance his Legend.
“Any luck, Jym?” Sherri whispered from her position within the pilothouse.
“There is much chatter, mostly about the strange ship that has just landed outside the complex. I am also hearing that the Juireans have advanced to the opposite side of the Volseen Corridor and a large battle is commencing. Wait, I hear something!” Jym closed his eyes and concentrated hard on the telepathic messages filtering through his mind. “A group has been summoned to a place called the command viewing room. They are to be escorted under heavy guard, definitely not welcomed guests.”
“Where is the viewing room?”
“I do not know. The beings on the link already know and are not describing the location.”
Sherri leaned back in her chair and then looked over at Ruszel. There was a lull in the conversation between him and the Kracori but she knew Dor was probably right outside the ship and just waiting for entry. She motioned to get Ruszel’s attention. The Tel’oran jerked his head around faster than he should have out of nervous energy. Fortunately, the image of Furlon Dor had also looked away for a moment, speaking with the technicians.
Sherri rapidly nodded her head. Ruszel frowned back.
Frustrated, Sherri whispered, “Let him in.”
At first Ruszel didn’t understand her, but just as she went to whisper
a little louder, the alien opened his mouth and nodded his understanding. She got up from her chair and sprinted to the rear of the ship and the landing bay airlock.
“I am here, Senior Pilot. Please open the hatch. I will enter alone first, yet the technicians must have access soon. As you may not be aware, we are engaged in a conflict at this time. The secrets of this ship must be learned quickly so they can be incorporated into our defense force.”
“Have the Humans attacked already?” Ruszel asked, playing his part of the uninformed local.
Dor’s expression changed suddenly, to one of dourness and concern. “No, it is the Juireans ... of all beings.”
“Juireans!” Ruszel exclaimed. He knew this fact already but he felt it best that he show his disbelief—which was not far off from his true feelings. He was still in awe of the idea that Juireans were here. The Nebula had never been part of the Expansion, although they did have peripheral dealings with it through trade. Yet even in the Silvean Nebula, Juireans were the creatures of myth.
“Not to worry, Senior Pilot. With the help of our brother races within the Nebula—yours included—we vastly outnumber the invaders. We will overwhelm them with defenders, and with their fleet deployed so far from their home base, they will be forced to withdraw once their own numbers reach a critical level. It is the Humans for which we must prepare, and your gift of this ship will be the weapon which will turn the war in our favor. Please open the hatch.”
“Oh, forgive me, Commander. I became so engrossed in our conversation regarding Juireans and Humans that I forgot.”
True to his word, the seven-foot tall gray alien, with the white sash across the chest of his blue uniform, entered the Pegasus alone, having not even drawn his weapon. The moment he was through, the hatch closed remotely and the lock engaged. The Kracori was too busy ducking his head to avoid an overhead support stanchion to notice.
He did, however, notice the much shorter figure with the yellow hair standing in the landing bay ... and with an MK-17 flash weapon aimed at him.
“It’s set on level-one, dickhead,” the creature said, even though the translation of dickhead was a scrambled mess and obscene to some degree.
Out of reflex, Dor withdrew his own weapon and leveled it at the alien. “You’re the Human, are you not?”
“That’s right. Welcome aboard my ship.”
Anger surged in Dor, and even though the Human may discharge her weapon just as he did, he pulled the trigger anyway.
And yet nothing happened. The yellow-haired Human stood patiently as Dor triggered the weapon several more times, before accepting the fact that he had been given a faulty issue. Of all the chances he would draw a defective weapon at the one time he needed it most....
“I suppose not killing me is your goal, since you have not discharged your weapon. You know you cannot kill all the Kracori on Elision with that single weapon, or even using this spacecraft, so I do not know what you have accomplished by coming here under such deception.”
“You will find out soon enough, Furlon Dor,” said the tiny creature.
Seeing his first Human in the flesh made him wonder just what made these creatures the equal of Kracori in strength and agility. He understood the origin of their evolution, however—they are such tiny beasts!
“Let’s go up to the pilothouse and have a talk.” The Human motioned with her weapon for him to move up the central corridor of the ship, and soon he entered a large room occupied by four other creatures, all of differing species. He immediately recognized the Tel’oran. He sent him a deadly glare.
“You are a traitor to your race and to the Nebula, Ruszel Crin of Tel’or—the first of this war and bound to be remembered as such. Your Legend will be that of pond scum.”
“I do apologize, Vice-Commander,” Ruszel said with passion. “I only do this out of a need for self-preservation.”
“They forced you to do this?”
Ruszel looked to the others in the room before answering. “No. But I have chosen to be a member of the winning team in the coming conflict.”
Trimen nodded his appreciation to the Tel’oran as the Kracori officer spoke again. “You have made a grave mistake, Ruszel. It will be the Kracori who prevail.”
“Commander, I believe it is you who are mistaken. For the Kracori to claim victory the Humans must be defeated, and from what I know of them and their capabilities, that is something the Kracori cannot do.”
“Enough chit-chat, aliens,” Sherri said. “We need to know where the command viewing room is inside the complex over there.”
The Kracori shook his head slightly, not to resist, but rather as a reaction to the sudden shift in topic. “The view room, why?”
“Because there’s a new Bradly Cooper movie playing there and I don’t want to miss it.”
Even in the pressure cooker that was the tension growing in the pilothouse, Sherri enjoyed the look of confusion on the Kracori’s face. “Just tell me, and don’t worry about why.”
“Are all Humans as rude and obnoxious as you?” Dor asked.
“No, not really,” Sherri said, batting her eyes at the alien. “I’m one of a kind. Now answer me.”
“I will not—”
Sherri dialed the MK down one level, and then without warning discharged it into the chest of the Kracori. The brilliant blue bolt splashed against his white sash, burning it to charcoal instantly, while the force of the bolt threw him against the side bulkhead and to the deck. An acrid, sickly smell filled the room, as a pale white vapor lifted from the perfect circle burnt in his uniform. The alien gasped for breath and clenched at his chest. Normally, a level-two bolt would have killed an alien, yet this was a Kracori. They were just as tough as Humans, and the bolt simply marked the alien with a second-degree burn, bordering on third-degree.
“I can mark every inch of your body with flash bolts,” Sherri said, now standing menacingly over the still-writhing body of the Kracori officer. “It will hurt like hell, but it won’t kill you. Now just tell me where the viewing room’s located.”
To Sherri’s rather morbid admiration, it took two more shots from the MK before the Kracori finally told her what she needed to know. She then had the officer bound securely and moved to a rear equipment compartment. With that was coming, it was probably the safest place for him to be.
105
The rattle of the locking mechanism unlatching roused everyone from their complacency, and instantly the three SEALs and Riyad were alert and on their feet. This was the moment they had been waiting for; whatever opportunity they’d have for escape would reveal itself with only a split-second to react.
A cadre of heavily-armed Kracori swept into the room. Adam was standing at the phalanx of this team and therefore was the first person the green-sashed officer approached.
“You are to come with us to the viewing room,” the steely-eyed alien said.
Adam’s heart skipped a beat. “What of the others?”
The alien looked past him to the others in the room. “They are to come as well.”
Adam tried not to show his relief. Without the rest of his men, escape would become proportionally more difficult. He wouldn’t go alone, so he would have come back for them—and that could prove disastrous.
The Kracori officer seemed genuinely confused when Riyad refused to sit in his wheelchair. “I’ll walk.” He was stronger now, yet still very weak and unsure of his footing. Chief Rutledge stepped up to him and offered a shoulder. Riyad accepted the help with a nod and then flashed a white, toothy grin at the stone-faced Kracori.
Seemingly a whole army of Kracori awaited the four Humans in the corridor. The lead officer pushed his way through the ranks, heading off to his right, the same direction where the last escape attempt had taken place. They were herded down the hallway, only to defiantly stop at the point where the tile floor still carried the traces of John Tindal’s blood.
The officer noticed the stoppage of his entourage and returned to the Humans. His g
aze locked on Adam. “The same fate awaits you and all your spies. I am surprised I have not received the order to terminate your lives by now.”
“It’s because me and your Langril are tight—best friends. Watch what you say to me, or I’ll have you terminated.”
The alien’s mouth dropped open and he looked nervously at the troops nearest him. Adam could tell he was confused. Adam had earlier been called into a conference with the supreme Kracori, and yet still he lived. And now all of them were summoned to the viewing room, not the executioner’s chambers. Adam risked a thin smile as he saw that the Kracori—at least for a moment—actually believed what he said.
“Don’t resist,” the officer finally said. “You are expected.”
“I’m not resisting. Does it look like I’m resisting?”
The green-sash blinked his eyes several times, then to nearest enlisted soldier said, “Bring them, and accept no more delays.” The officer then returned to his position at the head of the entourage.
Adam looked at the others and smiled. Even faced with imminent death, they couldn’t help but smile back.
The viewing room—supposedly the place where Adam and his men would watch the final victorious battle between the Kracori and Juireans—was located two buildings over within the Citadel complex from the prison dome. It was the largest structure in the complex and Adam only got a glimpse of it when they passed through an enclosed causeway with a glass canopy.
The viewing room itself turned out to be a terraced amphitheater with seating to accommodate a hundred Kracori or more, all in a semi-circle facing a viewscreen easily measuring a hundred feet across and thirty tall. The large screen currently displayed several images and data streams at various locations on its surface, with a large, blank grid dominating the center.