by Jo Carey
Gloria went back to work.
The intercom bleeped.
"I'm kinda busy here, so could someone answer the damn intercom, please," she said with her head inside the serpent form.
"Biocybernetics lab. Go for Taggart."
"John," Ciara said from the speaker, "just the person I need to see. Could you come down to my office, ASAP? Hell's a-poppin around here."
"I'll be there in ten minutes."
"Great, Devlin out."
John headed to the door. "Gloria, you and I need to talk," he said as he opened the door and walked out.
"Yeah, yeah, heard it all before," she said as Serena broke out in laughter.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
John arrived at Ciara's office and wiped his hands on his pant legs, marveling at how nervous he was. He took a deep breath and knocked.
"Come," Ciara said from inside, so he turned the latch and walked in, his heart racing.
"Great, you're here. Have a seat," she said as she closed the door on her plant-thing enclosure. On the other side, almost one hundred things stared at him, sizing him up, perhaps for a snack. He smiled at them while giving them a little wave. This show of defiance did not sit well with them.
Ciara knocked on the glass and said, "Knock it off," before closing the drapes in front of the enclosure. John thought he saw a final burst of flame from Clevon, but couldn't be sure. "Those little shits want a piece of you," she said as she sat down next to him, a drink for him in her hand.
"Thanks," he said, taking it from her and sipping it. "Excellent. What's up?" he asked as his heart rate went back down to normal.
She grabbed the room controller and activated the large viewer hanging on the wall. With lights dimming automatically, the screen shimmered as an image appeared of a large alien ship in orbit around a planet.
"It appeared a few hours ago. That's Kessar, one of the last of the Erdexi worlds to fall under the Marauder onslaught. Xenolinguistics identifies the hull markings as being a form of Marauder script based on drawings found in the Erdexi Histories. The ship is large, about the size of a Protector-class warship. Things were quiet until right before you arrived..."
"It's not my fault."
"Funny," she said as she cuffed him on the arm. "Like I was saying, something happened right before you arrived." She zoomed in on the bow of the ship. Several small ships appeared around the large ship, several of which fired on it. One flew out away from the big ship and exploded while an identical one clamped onto the larger ship's hull."
"Damn, did those small ships hijack a Marauder warship?"
"Engineering thinks it's a lightly armed scout or possibly a survey ship. Somehow, the small ships lured it to that system and jumped it. If that one clamped to the hull exploded, it would cripple the big one. Communications thinks the weapons fire took out the comm antennas."
"Have we identified the attackers?" he asked while squinting at the screen.
As an answer, she zoomed in on one of the small ships. It had League markings. "It's a Tralaskan long-haul transport."
"Stolen?"
"No. What I'm about to tell you is Top Secret. OffSec has become aware of a secessionist group of Tralaskans whose aim is to break-up the League and forge an empire from the remnants which would be under Tralaskan rule. They call themselves 'Rebirth,' and we think they're being led by Narnn Falta."
"Excuse me, but Narnn's family would never back this. They make most of their money from trade with the other League planets. This would break them."
"We know. In fact, his family is helping us. It seems that he broke off from them about two years after your accident. He met a sub-group of Rebirthers while working at his father's mine and disappeared soon after,” Ciara said.
"This is insane. Why hijack a minimally armed survey ship? Wait a minute. They jumped that ship the moment it appeared in real-space. How the hell did they know it was going to be there? Can we determine what drive system the Marauders used?"
Ciara pulled up the report and scanned through it. "The Probe's sensors didn't pick up the usual FTL signatures, and there was no neutrino burst related to the Erdexi Jump Drive, so it's probably using an unknown drive technology. How the hell did the Tralaskans know where it was going to appear?”
"Too many questions," John said, "and not enough answers. What we do know is that this act of hijacking could be construed as an act of war by the Marauders."
"Yep," she said as she grabbed a beanbag from the table and threw it into a wall. He noticed the pile of beanbags on the table and on the floor at the base of the wall. "Those morons are going to get a bunch of people killed unless we do something and do it soon." She noticed his raised eyebrows. She rubbed her temples. "Coffee cups were starting to damage the paint job, so maintenance suggested beanbags."
"Need a neck rub?" he asked.
"Oh, God, yes," she said as she turned away from him and pulled her hair back. He rubbed her neck and marveled at how tense she was. He gently rubbed and kneaded until she almost melted into her chair. "Wow," was all she could say as she turned and looked at him, as if she wanted to say something more, but then the commlink bleeped. "Dammit," she said as she jumped out of her seat and slapped the offending instrument. "What!" she barked.
"Ma'am, the Cuutoh has docked in Bay Eight," the operator said hesitantly.
"Thank you. Sorry. Have the dock master refuel and resupply them. Contact Sargent Rostock and tell him his ride is here. We'll be joining him shortly."
"Yes, ma'am."
She cut the connection and returned to her chair. She sat there looking at him, studying him.
"What?" he asked uncomfortably. He looked around to see if part of his body was hanging out.
"Nothing. Sorry. Thanks for the neck rub. Feel like taking a trip?"
"Where?"
"Kessar. Like I said, something needs to be done and Command agrees. You, me, and a recon squad of Space Marines are going in and assessing the situation."
"What about Serena and Gloria?"
"They're our backup. Protector is going to pick them up about six hours after we leave and park just outside the rubble field that was once Kessar's moon. If things go south, we have Capt. Angela Thurgood to come to our rescue."
"Thurgood? Didn't you date someone named Thurgood?"
"Jason, Ange's cousin. She once stared down a Goranthi admiral. Maybe she'll tell you about it?"
"That would be interesting. When do we leave?"
"One hour. Now, go tell the ladies and meet me in Bay Eight."
"Aye, Aye, Director. By the way, what's a Cuutoh?"
"Cuutoh is 'nut buster' in old Venlanten. She's the first of a small fleet of heavily armed Marine transports assigned to the Cube. I got to name her. My maternal Great Grandmother's maiden name was Cuutoh."
"Explains a lot," he quipped as he ducked out the door, followed closely by a bean bag.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Sirens and flashers filled the bridge as unknown hijackers boarded the pride of the Martok. At the center of the controlled chaos stood the captain, still in command, but for how long?
"Someone kill those alarms and get me a status."
"I think I can help you with that, Captain," someone said as a control console exploded, silencing the alarms and halting the strobes. The captain turned and came face to face with the barrel of a projectile launching pistol. He could see the rounds looking at him from inside a cylindrical magazine. Holding the gun was a fair-haired Erdexi, the first he or any Martok had seen in over a thousand centuries.
"Hello, Captain, my name is Vreen, Advisor to the Tralaskan Freedom Army known as Rebirth. Sorry about all of this, but I have need of your ship."
"For what purpose, butcher?"
"Butcher? What a strange term coming from a member of a species that killed billions of my people."
"What about the billions of Martok that died five thousand years prior, when your race of monsters expelled us? All Martok know of the Erdexi tr
eachery. We trusted you, invited you into our homes, made you part of our race, and what did you do in return? You slaughtered us and kicked our people out to wander the emptiness of space. I'm saddened that we didn't get you all, a mistake we will not make again."
Vreen's gun hand shook as he fought the urge to kill the captain. Sweat trickled down his bearded cheeks as rage boiled behind his yellow eyes. The sound of gnashing teeth filled the space between him and the calm captain.
"Get him out of my sight," Vreen ordered. When the captain was off the bridge, Vreen looked over at the first officer and ordered him to prepare the shuttle bay to receive a ship. The first officer complied, and the bridge vibrated as the massive pair of dorsal-mounted doors slid out of the way while the atmospheric containment field held the vacuum of space at bay.
Vreen turned to the Tralaskan behind him. "Dr. Falta, your project is being delivered to the shuttle bay as you requested."
"What the hell was that all about?"
"It is about nothing that concerns you or your people. Please go ahead with your repairs. We can assume that the captain or one of his crew has activated the emergency beacon. We must complete our task before..." He stopped and stared at one of the crew against the wall, held at gunpoint by one of the hijackers.
He walked over and spun her around to look at her back, then spun her back to face him. "Who are you?" he demanded. A male standing next to her tried to place himself between the two. Vreen raised his weapon and placed it between the male's eyes. "Milady, I hold a projectile weapon against his head. You will answer my question or I will end his life here and now."
"STOP!" Laeren said as she came forward from the crowd. "She is Lady Nootok of House Nootok, fifth in line to the throne of Martok. You will not harm her or her companion."
"By the gods, a teacher. You!" he said to the one holding the male, "Round up everyone who isn't a member of the crew and put them in one of the conference rooms. No harm must come to any of them. If I find out that any of them have even a single mussed hair, I will kill the person responsible, am I understood?"
"Yes, sir," he said as he moved the group into the hallway.
"Who are you?" Laeren asked as she walked by him.
"Your worst nightmare, Teacher."
"What the hell is going on?" Narnn asked.
"Why aren't you fixing the craft?"
"I'm not doing anything until you tell me what the hell's going on."
"Change of plans. No attack on the League. No attack on the Martok. We will destroy this ship, kill ever single Martok on board and make it look like the League did it. I guarantee we will have all-out war inside forty-eight of your standard hours."
"How will destroying this ship accomplish that? It's a simple Survey vessel."
"This is a teaching vessel for the children of the High-Born of the Martok Empire. Kill them and the Martok will lay waste to the League, leaving only your people and mine to clean up. The effort will weaken the Martok fleet enough for our fleet to take them out. This is more perfect than I could ever imagine."
"That wasn't the plan. We were to weaken both sides enough for us to take over, not wipe them out. You're talking about genocide on an interstellar scale."
Vreen grabbed Narnn by the jacket and pushed him against the wall. "Doctor, the penalty for murder is the same if you kill one or a thousand or a million. You of all people should know that. Now, go and fix the device, and leave me to the planning." He unceremoniously dropped the Doctor to the floor. Narnn straightened his Jacket and walked out with several of his people following, the rest remaining with Vreen.
"Narnn, are you going to let him do this?" Jenna asked as she grabbed his shoulder and spun him around to face her.
"Yes, though a little messier than the original plan, this one has a higher probability of success. Like he said, there's no difference between one murder and a billion."
He turned away from her and headed to the shuttle bay.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The Military Transport Vessel Cuutoh sat at the center of a cleared Bay Eight as techs and ground personnel swarmed over it in preparation for its journey to Kessar. While the League Marines loaded their gear, the ground crew loaded and checked the weapons. Technicians checked sensor systems to make sure that every piece of equipment from scanpad to high-resolution multi-spectral analyzer was functioning at its highest efficiency. Nothing was left to chance.
The Cuutoh was the latest in transport vessels designed for military reconnaissance. Mounted on the exterior hard points were eight quad multi-spectral laser emplacements, two fifty caliber Gatling guns fore and aft and two multi-mission missile batteries mounted on the dorsal and ventral hull. The hull itself was ultra-high-density polymer reinforced with an adamantine steel mesh. Power was supplied by the latest hybrid Erdexi-Tralaskan Jump-FTL drive augmented by four Stacksler Mark twenty-two conventional drive units at the rear.
One of the unique features of the Cuutoh is its landing gear. Typical League transports, like the Rambler-Nash 118, have four landing legs that extend downward from the bottom of the hull. The Cuutoh's legs extend outward from the sides of the hull, allowing the ship to land conventional or hang underneath a ship or overhang. Like the RN-118, each leg terminates in a grasping claw. This claw allows the Cuutoh to grasp surfaces giving it an advantage over conventional landing gear-equipped ships. The Cuutoh is the embodiment of the Semper Gumby philosophy of always being flexible.
John and Ciara watched the controlled chaos from the side of the bay. Next to them was their luggage for the trip. Both were wearing military uniforms.
"Who's coming with us?"
"A Space Marine Recon Squad of seven led by Master Sargent Max Rostock. They're briefed and know as much as we do about what's ahead."
"You mean they're as much in the dark as we are?"
"Yes. They're trained to survive in any situation."
As they stood waiting, a tall Erdexi male with a pack approached them. Setting it down, he handed Ciara an envelope while introducing himself as, "Keelan, Erdexi Special Liaison to the League."
Frowning, Ciara opened the envelope and read the paperwork it contained. "And you're coming with us, I see. Isn't that a little like poking the gentar, seeing that the Erdexi and the Marauders aren't on speaking terms?"
John bent down and whispered to Keelan, "What's a gentar?"
"Dr. Taggart, a gentar is a large predator on Rhanna about the size of an Earth Kodiak Bear only more irritable. And, yes Director, my presence can and will invoke ill feelings, but that can't be helped. My mission is to safeguard the contents of a lab on Kessar. I will try to stay out of your way, otherwise."
"What are the contents of this lab?" Ciara asked, as her frown deepened.
"I am not at liberty to say."
"Are they dangerous to my personnel?"
"I am not at liberty to say."
Ciara looked up at the envoy, her frown turning to a look of amazement that anyone would say that in a situation like this. "Excuse me for a moment," she said as she walked off while dialing her commlink.
"I seem to have upset her," Keelan said, a look of concern starting to form on his face.
"I wouldn't worry," John said.
"Really?"
"She likes me. You on the other hand..." John said finishing with a shrug.
Ciara returned, shaking her head while putting the commlink away. "Confirmed. Keelan is joining us on this soiree, and he is charged with keeping the lab on-planet safe. One final question, sir: what if the lab has already been breached?"
"I can only say I will deal with it." This answer got a stern look from Ciara.
"And I thought this was just a pleasant drive out to an interstellar kidnapping. What do I know?" Her commlink bleeped. "What?" she snapped as she accepted the call. "Fine, thank you. They're ready for us."
John picked up her gear and said, "Milady," as he gestured toward the ship. She curtsied and headed to the hatchway.
"Sargent
Rostock? I'm Director Ciara Devlin. Next to me is Dr. John Taggart and next to him is Keelan," she said as she handed his paperwork to the Sargent. Rostock read the paperwork and grunted as he glared at the liaison.
"Do you get that reaction a lot?" John asked the envoy in a whisper. Keelan just frowned.
"Good to meet you, Director. Heard a lot about you. Please take your seats. We'll be lifting-off as soon as you're settled. The briefing will start once we're in FTL space.”
Once underway, Ciara, John, and Keelan joined the flight crew and the Marines around a large holotable at the center of the cabin.
"My name is Dr. Ciara Devlin, Director of Operations of the Cube. To my right is Dr. John Taggart, Head of the Cube's Biocybernetics Division. To my left is Keelan, Erdexi Special Liaison to the League tasked with keeping a secret lab on the planet safe from prying eyes."
"Ma'am, how can it be secret if we know about it?" a young private asked.
"Can it, Relay," the Sargent growled. "Can't you see you're making the Special Liaison nervous? Sorry, sir. Relay has a habit of stating the obvious, don't you, Relay?"
"Aye, Sarge."
Ciara continued. "Flying the ship is our pilot, Capt. Letta Mosk and her co-pilot, Cmd. Solange Fry. Letta and Solange have decades of both military and civilian experience flying space craft ranging from shuttle pods to heavy cruisers. Sarge?"
The Sarge took over the introductions. "I'm the Recon Team Leader, MSgt. Max Rostock, handle: Sarge. This is my Second in Command Sgt. Krista Louis, handle: Saint. The lady with the tentacles next to her is SSgt Vollt, handle: Doc." the Alturan waved at them with six of her tentacles while using several of the rest to eat a nutribar.
"Damn things are addictive," she said, waving it in their direction.
The Sarge continued, "Over there, with the lovely purple eyes is Cpl. Tenga, his full name is on file someplace. I tried pronouncing it once and had to be put in traction." The Storen Corporal, covered in fine black fur, gave a small wave.