STAR'S HONOR (THE STAR SCOUT SAGA Book 3)

by GARY DARBY

  Kur’al seemed to study his large, fur-covered hands for several moments before saying. “Of us, you need not offer any assurances.

  “You see, we three are but temporary caretakers to represent the St’ort He’scher, appointed by Ab’nadi before he departed, to ensure that the council follows the Law of Succession correctly in raising a new leader.

  “We cannot and will not, speak for the Sha’anay as a whole. It is not within our power. Only within the Korha’pec itself do we wield any authority. Until the St’ort He’scher is chosen, no one has the right to be the voice of all Sha’anay.”

  The rumble in his chest seemed to swell before he said, “You must understand that for a son to hear that his father has met such a fate is a hard thing, especially as Tor’al and To’ran share a special bond, having fought many battles together.

  “Nevertheless, To’ran should not have taken matters into his own hands. However, our young ones can sometimes be overly passionate and impulsive, acting instead of thinking.

  “You also need to know that it is an all but foregone conclusion that Tor’al is to be the next St’ort He’scher. There are few among us who are of Tor’al’s stature; his exploits are those of legend, his wisdom and counsel sought after by many.

  “It is not his way to speak often in the council, but when he does, the Korha’pec listen. When the news came to us that he was lost, a dark pall descended over the Houses, particularly his own.”

  Rosberg nodded while saying, “I can understand why To’ran and the others were so upset. I just ask that you remember that we came here with nothing but peaceful intentions and openly shared what we knew with you.”

  Ku’ral gave a small shrug and said, “Of that we understand.” His lips drew down in a rough semblance of a frown. “To’ran is much respected among us, but he does not have the cool temperament of Tor’al.”

  He paused. “We have a saying: a hot tongue often leads to a hot sword, and then to a cold death.”

  Ku’ral shook his head while he said, “Even now, To’ran is letting it be known among the clans of his house that Tor’al is alive and being held by the humans. It may be that his fiery words will convince them to rise up in reprisal.”

  Federov’s intake of breath was like a soft hiss. “You mean they would invade Imperium space?”

  Ku’ral turned unblinking eyes on Federov. “Invasion is a harsh term, human. For the House of Tor’al, it would be a rescue mission. And I tell you of a truth, they would not let any stand in their way.”

  He leaned forward, and his voice was a low growl, “And few there would be among the Sha’anay who would try to stop them.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Star date: 2443.083

  Marsten’s World

  Stirring up the crystals of sand into tiny curls that danced across the rolling dunes, Dason shivered in the icy wind. It wasn’t just the biting breeze and cold, moonless night that caused him to tremble, but also the little knot of fear and anticipation that gripped his body.

  A’kan had made it clear that if anything happened to Tor’al, the Sha’anay would hold the perpetrators responsible. More so, it was just possible that the Sha’anay would look upon the whole human race as enemies.

  While Dason found that unfair, still, he couldn’t and wouldn’t assign human emotion or logic to the Sha’anay as he still had so much to learn about the extraterrestrials.

  From day one as a novice scout, he would admit, he had tackled the unknown with some trepidation. Nevertheless, this—this was somehow different.

  It went far beyond anything he could have imagined about being a Star Scout, and had grown to the point that he felt if they didn’t find Tor’al, unharmed, and soon, the Imperium could face its greatest calamity.

  Caught between two powerful enemies, the Mongans and the Sha’anay.

  And after what had happened between the Imperium and the Mongans in the battle of the Alpha Prime planet, Dason couldn’t help but feel that his civilization may well lose any future battles with either species.

  And of course, there were Shanon, TJ, Sami, and Nase. They were alive. He knew it with every atom of his being. He felt it as surely as he could feel the gritty, coarse sand running through his fingers.

  Perhaps somewhere on this planet they might not only find Tor’al, but the Mongan device that he felt certain held the key to finding his friends.

  But where had the Faction leader taken Tor’al and the device and how were they going to find them?

  Bianca noticed his tiny shivers and leaned over. “Cold?” she asked.

  “Just a little,” Dason said between clenched teeth.

  “Me, too,” she whispered back and nodded toward Stinneli, Anyar, and Lia. “Just be glad you’re not those three.”

  To avoid undue suspicion while in town, Stinneli and his partners had traded clothing with the civilians on board the cruiser, and the thin material they wore provided little protection against the cold night.

  “True,” Dason responded, “but I wouldn’t mind being covered head to toe with some Sha’anay fur about now. Why is it that deserts are always stinking hot in the daytime and freezing cold at night?”

  “To make us grateful for the in-betweens,” Bianca returned. “Like beautiful fall days on Earth.” She pulled her micro binos to her eyes to peer at what lay below.

  The small party rested on the lip of a large sand dune and surveyed the small, nondescript underground town that lay below. Like Earth ice igloos of old, rounded domes stuck up here and there, indicating a larger structure lay below with an outside entrance into the above-ground dome.

  Here and there, a few meager dim lights glowed, but most of the town lay in shadow. Most of the building domes stuck just above the sandy ground letting Marsten’s soil insulate against the heat and cold.

  Overhead, flowing like a river of light, the mass of stars that formed the galactic center broke the darkness. Along with the occasional entrance dome glow, the stars provided just enough illumination that they could clearly see a lone figure trudge along between the domes and what passed for a dusty street.

  Stinneli came and stretched out next to Bianca and motioned toward the town. “Any idea where we should start looking?” he asked.

  “Sorry,” Bianca muttered, “the only city plan in the database was a century old and it didn’t show a med facility though we know there’s one here.”

  “Okay,” Stinneli frowned, “how about that dome? Seems to be a bit larger than all the others, could hold a hospital.”

  “Wouldn’t be too sure,” Bianca spoke low. “From what I know of this place, more likely it’s the local jail.”

  She gestured down at the many hummocks that dotted the landscape. “But if I were to guess I’d say it’s probably one of those two with the comms array. One’s most likely the administrative center and the other could be your medical building.”

  Stinneli scratched at his chin. “As good as any, I guess.”

  Frowning, he said, “You’d think they’d have something above ground like a big red blinking arrow saying ‘this way to the ER’.”

  “You’re forgetting,” Bianca muttered, “that these people live like Arturian Whistle Hogs, burrowing below the surface and with tunnels connecting everything together. If they’ve got anything like a sign, you’ll find it down below.”

  Stinneli gave a little shrug. “In that case, it’s a good thing those two domes are relatively close together, easy to check out both.”

  ‘Yes,” Bianca hastily replied, “but remember doc, that most admin centers also contain the headquarters for their law enforcement and they’re the distrustful type. So, if you find yourself—”

  “Getting stared at by a bunch of squinty-eyed characters,” Stinneli dryly returned, “we’re in the wrong building.”

  “Right,” Bianca returned, “and that means getting out of there before you raise even more suspicions. This isn’t a place where strangers are routine and those who visit this plane
t are either running from the law, or are usually up to no good. Got it?”

  “Got it,” Stinneli replied.

  A’kan growled out, “I see not the craft that supposedly brought Tor’al to this planet.”

  “Neither do I,” Bianca replied before gesturing toward a sizeable cleft in the dunes off to one side. “That looks like a road leading out of town. Maybe the ship is behind those hills and we just can’t see it from here.”

  She reached out and pulled everyone back off the dune’s crest. “Okay, doctor, you, Lia and Anyar head for town. Find the hospital but be careful and remember, the rule of law isn’t high on these people’s standards.

  “There’s no Imperium here for us to contact and the rumor is that the Faction may have elements here but don’t expect them to be wearing name tags announcing that they’re Gadions.

  “I’ll take Dason and the three Sha’anay with me. We’ll skirt the town and see where that road leads. Don’t hesitate to yell for help if you get in trouble, understood?”

  At Stinneli’s nod, she asked, “You got your cover story down?”

  Stinneli lifted one corner of his mouth up in a crooked smile. “I hope so. I’ve never been very good at making up stories, so this will be an interesting exercise for me.”

  “Just don’t make it too interesting, doctor,” Bianca replied. “We’re trying to keep a low profile.”

  She went on in a firm voice, “And remember, if anyone gets too suspicious or you feel threatened in any way, beat a retreat back to the ship, and we’ll go with the alternate plan.”

  “Got it,” Stinneli replied and motioned to his two companions. “Let’s go.”

  The three rose and slipped over the dune’s crown to make their way into town. Bianca watched them go before she opened her comms and said, “Brant, status?”

  “We’re on the planetary east side of the town,” Brant replied. “No sign of the Faction cruiser, but we’ve got some dunes blocking our view to the north. We think there are some buildings further out; we’ll check on those and report.”

  “Got it,” Bianca replied. “Stinneli and his team are headed in. We’ve spotted a road that leads out of town to the west, the rest of us are going to investigate.”

  With a flick of her hand, Bianca motioned for Dason and the Sha’anay to follow her to the dune’s bottom.

  With the high sandy hills cutting off most of the wind, the night became still, the only sound coming from the crunch of their footsteps through the dusty soil.

  For long minutes, they strode with quiet, wary steps through the barren landscape, with only soft starlight to guide them through the narrow channels between dunes.

  Bianca called a halt and motioned for Dason and the Sha’anay to stay where they were while she climbed a nearby tall sand ridge to get their bearings.

  From her perch on top of the huge mound, she instantly turned and gestured for her small party to join her. With rapid steps that sank into the loose sand, Dason climbed up the hill and joined Bianca.

  His eyes widened from his quick glance into a wide, dune surrounded valley.

  The Faction vessel that they searched for!

  The Gadion ship sat near several low-slung buildings and Dason was certain that it was the craft that he had seen power off the moon where Tor’al and the other Sha’anay were held captive.

  El’am took one look and uttered a sharp growl through bared teeth. He rose as if to charge headlong into the sand-encrusted basin.

  With a low growl of her own, Bianca reached up and grabbed the Sha’anay by his tunic. “No!” she spit out in an angry tone. “A’kan, stop him. This will get us all killed and do Tor’al no good.”

  A’kan and Mo’sar grabbed the Sha’anay cub by both arms and held him while he struggled against both. A’kan snarled something unintelligible that caused El’am to immediately stop resisting.

  He took in a deep breath before he gave a sharp nod to A’kan and stepped back, his face still a mask of fury.

  A’kan leaned close to Bianca. “He but vents what we feel as well. So, human Ki’mi, what would you have us do, sit here like sand turtles, and wait for the morning warmth before we move or shall we take advantage of the darkness?”

  “No,” Bianca retorted. “We're not waiting if that’s what you’re asking. But charging down into the valley isn’t the answer, either.

  “We don’t know how many are down there nor do we know if Tor’al is still on the cruiser or if he’s in one of those buildings.”

  She studied the structures a bit more and then said, “We need to—” she stopped when she heard the soft click of the communicator in her ear and Tam saying in a rapid voice, “Captain Ruz, respond. We’ve got a problem here.”

  In an instant, Bianca responded, “Go ahead.”

  “The two Faction goons and some of the others escaped.”

  “What?!” Bianca exclaimed. “How?”

  “I just found Josh unconscious. He was on guard when it happened so I’m not exactly sure when or how, but I think it must have happened just after you and Brant left.”

  “Close to a half-hour ago,” Bianca muttered to herself.

  “They could be anywhere by now,” Dason responded.

  “More importantly,” Bianca replied, “if they’ve linked up with any of their Faction cronies in town, they know we’re here and the location of our craft.”

  “What about Doctor Stinneli?” Dason pointed out.

  Bianca shook her head in frustration. “That’s the catch, if I call them back now, our only alternative for the severely wounded is Pegasi and Stinneli has made it clear that they probably won’t last the trip.”

  She let out a long, deep sigh. “Besides, knowing the doc, he’d probably ignore me anyway and keep looking for the med facility knowing how critical his patients are.”

  “You could recall Anyar and Lia from the town,” Dason pointed out. “At least keep them from falling into Faction hands.”

  “I could,” Bianca slowly acknowledged.

  “But you won’t,” Dason rejoined, “because they would feel like they’re deserting a teammate and that’s not what scouts do.”

  “You’re spot on,” she affirmed with a little smile, “but thanks for pointing out the option.”

  Dason asked the obvious question. “Do we go back or keep going?”

  Bianca clenched and unclenched her hands several times, apparently wrestling with her thoughts.

  Finally, she snapped over the communicator, “Tam, you and Shelby, get the two craft airborne and to a safer location. We’ll keep with the mission, just don’t go too far and once you set down, let everyone know your position.”

  After the two scouts replied that they understood their instructions, Bianca questioned, “Tam, how bad is Josh hurt?”

  “He’s got a pretty nasty lump and a laceration on his head,” Tam replied. “He looks like he’s coming around but he’s going to be out of action for a while.”

  Bianca clenched and unclenched her fists, her eyes set hard in anger. Dason’s own face mirrored her frustration. They had risked their lives to be good Samaritans and their reward was treachery and physical assault.

  He wouldn’t half blame her if she ordered the scouts to throw the remaining civilians, wounded and all, out on the desert to fend for themselves. Bianca wouldn’t, of course, but he wasn’t so sure that he would be able to restrain himself from doing so if he were in charge.

  “All right, you know what to do,” Bianca ordered Tam, “get on it.”

  “Doctor Stinneli,” she then said, “do not verbally respond but give me one tap that you’ve copied the last transmissions regarding the Faction escaping.”

  Tap.

  “Good,” Bianca affirmed. “I heard one tap. Keep with your mission but see if you can’t hurry it up as I’m afraid that the Gadions that escaped might alert their comrades that you’re in town or worse, recognize you and raise the alarm. One tap to acknowledge.”

  Tap.

&n
bsp; “Acknowledged doctor and good luck. Brant, did you copy the transmissions?”

  “Roger, that,” Brant instantly replied.

  “We’re on the other side of town,” Bianca explained, “and about two or three kilometers out. We’ve found a small complex and parked nearby is the spacer we’re looking for.

  “I need your team to get over here as fast as you can. However, we can’t wait for you so we’re going to do a sneak and look for Tor’al. Understood?”

  “Yes ma’am,” Brant replied. “We’re on our way.”

  Bianca turned to A’kan. “I suggest we split up. You three see if you can get inside the cruiser, Dason and I will make for the buildings and search there.”

  With a hard jerk of his head in assent, A’kan backed off the dune and led Mo’sar and El’am to the right, using the rippling dunes for concealment as they stole their way toward the cruiser.

  Bianca and Dason circled in the opposite direction, keeping just below the sand hill’s crown until they reached the end of the sharp crest.

  Half sand-surfing, half loping, they made their way down the steep incline until they reached the bottom.

  At a fast jog they followed the curve around the dune. A long, high finger of sand jutting out provided a place where they could hide and spy on the somewhat buried structures.

  For several minutes, they peered over the small sandy knoll, studying the complex layout and trying to determine which building they should attempt to enter.

  “Do you think they’re all separate buildings or interconnected by underground tunnels?” Dason asked.

  “I’m pretty sure they’re interconnected,” Bianca replied. “That would make the most sense on this planet. Still, I don’t want to have to go building to building through a tunnel. Way too easy to get ambushed.”

  Dason jutted out his chin in the direction of a set of structures and whispered to Bianca, “Ma’am, take a look at those two centerline buildings closest to the ship. The larger one, the way the sand’s disturbed, I can’t see clearly, but I think that those are footprints.”