by Frank Carey
"Captain, could Aerith join Gloria on the Bridge?" Harm asked. "She would benefit greatly from the experience."
"Of course," Torga said. "As for the mission itself, my people think six hours from entry to exit should be sufficient."
"I concur," Royce said. "As per standard operating procedure, we will check in every thirty minutes. Two missed check-ins indicate we're in trouble."
"And how do we get out of trouble?" Harm asked.
"We're expendable," Royce said, "so we avoid trouble."
"The Major is correct," Torga said. "If your team is not out of there in six hours my orders are to leave the area. Once Deltafish is clear, Hephaestus will be destroyed by an orbital-launched tri-cobalt missile."
"Then I guess we'll be out before then," Harm muttered.
The group adjourned and headed into the hallway with Royce and Marta in the lead while Harm hung back and waited for Gloria to emerge.
"Cuz, we need to talk," he said as he pulled her aside.
"If this is about Royce, you don't have to worry. I straightened him out completely."
"No. This is about Aerith," he said as he held out a small box. As Gloria watched, Harm placed his thumb on a small red dot in the center of the top surface. A yellow light on one end started to flash. "Place your thumb on the red dot." She did and the light turned green before turning off. He handed her the box.
"What's this?"
"Everything,"
"Huh?"
"Access codes for every byte of data I have collected over the last ten years. Bank accounts, software hacks, plans for Roscoe and Mable, specs for the synth printer, headsets, and hacker balls, details on every crime family in the League. Most importantly, it contains my will which designates you my executor. It's all stored on secure servers across the league. All you need to do is plug that box into a network port and you'll have access to everything."
"How the hell can I be your executor?"
"You touched the dot."
"Oh. No, I mean why me?"
"I need you to promise me you will take care of Aerith if something happens to Marta and me," he said. "The contents of that drive will give you enough money and power to see to it that Aerith is taken care of."
"Wait, what about Marta's family?"
"They will fight you, but I want you to be part of my daughter's life. You are everything I could ever hope she could be. Royce has taught her how to be a warrior. I need you to teach her how to be smart."
"Stop it before you make me cry," Gloria said as she looked for a hanky. Harm gave her his. "You are such a guy. I promise, Aerith will be treated as if she were my own daughter."
"Then I have no worries," he said as she put the device in her pocket. "Come on, we need to get ready."
Chapter Seven
Commander Lorq stood off to the side of the portal room and watched as another batch of personnel arrived and immediately placed their consciousness inside a waiting synth body before being assigned a duty inside the arcology.
"Sentol, what is our status?" Lorq requested as he continued to watch the warriors stream in.
"We are ninety percent complete with less than six hours left in the transfer window."
"How long until the next window opens?"
"Three days, sir."
"Can we fire the weapon during this three-day period between windows?"
"No, sir, we cannot. The weapon can only be fired while the window is open."
"Then I want the transfer complete in four hours. Once our troops are in place we will go to phase two," Lorq ordered, "Today will be a glorious day for the grange."
A lower-caste warrior walked up the commander and snapped to attention.
"What is it, private?" Lorq growled.
"Sir, Agent Nash is waiting in the level one briefing room with his report."
"Very well, private. Dismissed. Sentol, call me when the transfers are complete."
"Yes, sir," Sentol replied, knowing that increasing the transfer rate would cause many fatalities. Sentol was fine with that since the alternative was his own fatality.
Lorq walked into the briefing room and found Nash staring at a map of Venecia which had been tacked up on the wall by the arcology's previous tenants. "Find something fascinating, Nash?"
"This universe is odd. Very, very odd," the agent replied.
"Yes it is, but its resources we can plunder are incredible. What do you have to report?"
I have given the techs the information I retrieved from the League's InterWeb. We will be able to proceed without interference from the League. Xura remains sequestered and should soon break under interrogation..."
Lorq drew his sidearm and aimed it between the agent's synthetic eyes. "Really? I just got a report that two unknowns infiltrated this facility and freed Xura. One of the unknowns called the other "Harmon." Does that name ring a bell, Agent?"
"No, sir. That is impossible. Harmon Aymar is dead. I witnessed it personally!"
Lorq pulled a device from his belt and placed it on the desk between him and the agent. He pressed a button on its side and a hologram of one living, breathing elf named Harmon Aymar appeared above the table. "This is a reconstruction based upon the telepresence signals we detected. As you know, most of these beings cannot leave their bodies, but their technology allows them to remotely control devices such as the synths. This is who was controlling the high-caste warrior synth which freed Xura."
"Sir, I have no..."
"Silence! There are billions of beings in this universe and only a few thousand of us. This operation requires three things: Secrecy, stealth, and timing. Secrecy went out the door when some moron set this arcology loose to float to the surface while triggering a temblor. Stealth may have just gone by the wayside due to your inability to make sure that elf was dead. All we have left is timing. Sensors indicate we are surrounded by warships on the surface, submarines below the surface, and warships in orbit. I plan to pull off this mission before our mistakes catch up with us."
"Yes, sir!"
"One more mistake, Nash, and you'll be taking an express train back to our universe, where you will face the wrath of the emperor. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir. Perfectly!"
"Good, now get back to work," the commander said, dismissing the agent.
Nash exited the room quickly, leaving the commander alone. "Why is it never easy?" he asked as he checked the security systems. "Either the time differentials between the universes is mucking things up or the morons under my command are. 'It's a simple invasion,' they said. 'It'll be fun,' they said. Right," Lorq muttered as he checked the perimeter defenses. "This is their idea of fun? Really?"
Chapter Eight
The Lyseckan Space Freighter Nala'ta made her way through other-space on course for Tralaska, her hold filled with crates of merch and foodstuffs destined for sale on the open markets. It was quiet as most of the crew was asleep, except for the night shift and, of course, her commanding officer, Captain Kestra Mrantz.
"Insomnia again, Captain?" Rock asked as he sat down across from her and her pile of paperwork. She looked up and saw her cargo master sitting and watching her with his huge yellow eyes.
"I could ask the same of you," she noted as she wondered how the chair he sat in could take his weight. Rock wasn't overweight. He was just big.
"My people do not sleep. They nap occasionally," he reminded her as he looked at his Lyseckan captain.
"Ah, and what people are those? She asked as she pulled her hair back. Except for a set of muttonchops an English sailor of old would be proud to own, Kestra was indistinguishable from any Earth-human woman.
"I keep telling you, I am a Rotgor! Third Sooth to the Prime Narbish and first betrothed to the Empress Stalt."
"And I keep telling you that I understand not one word of what you just said. Hell, you lock-up the universal translator every time you give it that line. Rock, what the hell are you?"
"I am a creature forever beholden to you and the
crew of this ship for saving my miserable life and giving me a family amongst which I can live."
Kestra shook her head and was about to say something more when she suddenly stopped. She sat there staring off into infinity while scaring Rock in the process.
"Captain, are you all right? Kestra! Dammit, computer, sound alert. I need Doc and Sucrell in the mess, stat," the big biped said as he ran over to Kestra while alarms went off around them,
"What the hell's going on?" Doc asked as he slid into the room.
"She stopped in mid-thought, and now, she's not moving," Rock said as he moved aside to let Dr. Murtell do his work.
"Pulse, respiration, and temp are normal. Sucrell?" Doc asked his assistant.
"Blood pressure is fine, pupils are equal and reactive..."
"Where am I," Kestra said as she shook her head.
"The Mess Hall. You were talking to Rock when you froze," Doc explained while he continued to check her vital signs.
"Rock... I'm sorry. From your look, I must have scared you.
"Just a little," he said while holding his hands about two meters apart.
Her smile turned to a frown. "Merla, call the Bridge and have helm divert us to Venecia at maximum speed."
"Sister? Divert course to Venecia? Why?" Merla asked while giving Doc a worried look.
"Someone there needs our help," Kestra replied.
"Who needs our help?" Rock asked. He too had a worried look on his face.
"I'm not sure. All I know is we wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him. And... And he's been suffering for many years now for the kindness he showed us." Kestra looked up at her sister with a pleading look.
Merla walked over to the intercom and pressed a button. "Bridge, this is Merla. Set course for Venecia, maximum speed."
"Merla, did I hear you straight? You want to divert to Venecia at max speed?"
"Just do it, Jason. I'll explain when I get up there. Merla out."
"Thank you, sister. Thank you all," Kestra added when she saw most of the crew standing around her, half holding out glasses of water and all with worry written in their eyes. "I'm fine, really. Please, return to your beds. We have much to do in the morning.”
Slowly the room emptied except for Rock, who sat down in his previously occupied seat. "You had a vision, didn't you?"
For a fleeting moment, she thought about lying, but knew her cargo master would see through any deception. "Yes, I saw someone trapped in a structure, water rising all around him. In front of him stood a being. The being was smiling at me."
"Did this being say anything?"
"It did."
"What did it say?"
"You won't believe me."
"Try me."
"It said, 'Get your asses to Venecia or this moron is going to drown,' while pointing to the trapped being."
"Wow, that's the first time I've heard a vision which didn't require interpretation. What about the being who was trapped?"
She shook her head with her lips pressed together in concentration. "He was an elf."
"Do you know any elves?"
Kestra's head snapped up. "Only one. I need your help. Can you pull up every scrap of data pertaining to the hijacking of the LTV Spindrift? It happened about ten years ago."
"Hey, wasn't our ship originally called the Spindrift?" he said as he sat down in front of a terminal. Quicker than she thought possible, Rock was inside the deepest part of the InterWeb.
"Yes, we changed it to Nala'ta to avoid complications due to a hijacking."
"Wait, someone hijacked the Spindrift...? Oh," he said when he saw her look.
"We were desperate, so when we heard someone else was hijacking it, we thought we'd, you know, hijack it from the hijacker."
"I'm getting a headache. What are you looking for?" he asked while his fingers flew across the terminal's keyboard
"Anything pertaining to one of the Spindrift's life pods, specifically life pod number nine, and anything about an elf found adrift in it."
Rock stopped and looked at her. "Kestra, you didn't?"
"No. I knocked him out and threw him into a pod. After we ejected him, we had to eject a piece of nasty cargo..."
"A Goranthi Decimator."
"Where are you getting this information?"
"OffSec Top Secret Data banks on the Cube. Don't worry, I'm hiding the intrusion."
"Great. Since you're in there, tell me more. Who was the pilot?"
Rock stopped, put his face against the screen, and gasped. "Impossible."
"What?"
"The pilot was the hacker Atmar. Not 'a' hacker, THE hacker. Atmar is beyond legendary both in skill and cruelty. As the story goes, he died during a botched hijacking of the LTV Spindrift."
"OK, who did we throw into nine?"
"Someone by the name of Harmon Aymar. He was picked up a couple of days later, half-mad and delirious. He kept repeating over and over that he had killed ten slaves, one of who had cold-cocked him before he could get them into a life pod."
"Oh, shit. What have we done?" Kestra asked as her face went ashen.
"This is odd," Rock said as he typed commands. "Part of his file is double-locked."
"What does that mean?"
"It means OffSec did something they don't want anyone to know about. Let me see... Oh my God," Rock said as he, too, went ashen. He pressed a button, sending a bunch of files to the printer. Rock got up and walked over to the device, then returned moments later with a loaded manila folder. "You might not want to read it."
"What is it?" she asked while hesitating to take the paperwork.
"The story of Atmar," he replied, visibly shaken by what he had found.
She took the folder from him and read it. When she finished, she handed it back to him. "Destroy this and all computer records pertaining to Atmar and Harmon Aymar. Tell no one about this, ever. In fact, I suggest you forget we ever saw this data."
"Can you forget?" he asked.
"No. No, I can't, but I will not burden my crew with the knowledge that we owe everything to a man who we threw into a rescue pod while he was fighting off something as malignant as this Atmar. And for him to survive two days of that, then be tortured by the very people who were supposed to help him? No, only I will bear this burden."
"Kes, there is no way that you could have known. Shit happens," Rock said as he took her tiny hands into his.
"Tell that to Harmon. Look, I need to think. Go check on the others, and let them know I'm OK."
"Yes, ma’am," he said. He walked out of the room, leaving her to her thoughts. As the door closed, she swore she heard someone chuckle in the darkness, but dismissed it as a symptom of fatigue.
Chapter Nine
Capt. Angela Thurgood, commander of the League Warship Protector, slept dreamlessly, wrapped in the arms of her husband, Charlie Trost, Head of Protector's security force.
She awoke to the ringing of the intercom. She opened one eye to see what time it was: 0300 hours, the clock next to the bed said in evil red numerals.
"Charlie, wake up. Charlie!" Charlie didn't move because Charlie could sleep through a planetary disaster. "Fine. Go for Thurgood. What's up, Kyne?"
"Ma'am, we have a priority message coming in from Space Command. Code Factor One."
"Shit! I'll be right up. Captain out. Charlie!" She yelled as she pulled a single hair from his forearm."
"Ouch! What'ya do that for?"
"Wuss. I've got a Code Factor One message coming in from Space Command."
"Dammit!" he replied as he swung out of bed. Minutes later, the two of them were out the door and heading to the Bridge.
"Sorry about this, Ange, but Hells a poppin' on Venecia," Admiral Penstat, commander of this sector of space, said.
"Can you give me any details?"
The admiral explained the situation.
"And this has been verified?"
"Yes. Two years ago, there was an incident on Maranta Five involving a university research ship destroy
ed by a robotic horde. After the rescue, a life pod from the surface was retrieved containing a missing—presumed dead—member of the rescue team. The OffSec investigative team found a data recorder which recorded the events of the year leading up to the attack."
"I remember reading reports of that incident. The husband of the elf Queen was involved."
"Yes. His cousin's daughter was one of the survivors. His cousin was the person in the pod."
"Damn. You said there was corroborating data?"
"Analysis showed an invasion was in progress at that time, but it was stopped when one Harmon Aymar activated the self-destruct system. Mr. Aymar is unaware that his actions saved the League."
"Damn, so these grange tried invading us once before?"
"Twice that we know of. We think they tried entering this universe at Martok Five ten thousand years ago."
"Then we have a lot to thank Mr. Aymar for."
"You may get a chance to shake his hand personally. He and the same elf Marine Expeditionary Force team are on their way to the arcology on a search and destroy mission. Their job is to bring down the force shield."
"And our job is?"
"To blow that gateway into the Great Beyond. You will be joined by three League cruisers—Hermes, Septar, and Rancor—along with the Olympian dreadnaught, the Octavia Maximus. It seems the Olympians are more than a little pissed that someone took potshots at one of their pureblood males. When you get there, each of the five ships will be fitted with a single tri-cobalt missile."
"And the elf team?"
"Expendable, as are your ships and the planet itself. The grange cannot be allowed to get a foothold in this dimension. Ange, I'm sorry to put this on you, but you're the best we have. Give them hell."
"Aye, sir. We'll make you proud."
"I already am. Space Command out."
"Protector out. Kyne, set course to Venecia, maximum speed. Once we're on our way I want Missile Bay Two prepared to receive the tri-cobalt device."
"Aye, ma’am,"
"Helm, ETA to Venecian orbit?"
"Six hours, ma’am."
"Kyne, have Billy join me in the main briefing room."