by T. R. Harris
“So do we have a plan yet, Mr. Cain?” Admiral Tobias asked. Although technically outranking Adam, Andy Tobias was content to defer all operational command to the younger man, seeing that this operation was not sanctioned by any military or government, which also lacked any jurisdiction over the Humans onboard. All were either retired or separated from official duty under Earth’s command, so rank was simply in the eye of the beholder, and by now no one was going to question Adam’s right to command.
“I’m working on it, but Kroekus has provided us with an ace up our sleeve.” This comment really threw the aliens for a loop, including a frown to Trimen’s tanned forehead. “It seems the crafty old crook has more assets operating in the Nebula than we first thought. He even has an insider who claims to have been to Elision.”
“No shit?” Sherri said. “How convenient he’s just now coming forward with this person.”
“My thoughts exactly, Sherri, and there’s more. This agent has also secured for us a local ship that supposedly can get us into the Dysion Void and all the way to Elision without drawing suspicion. He even says he has entry codes that can get us to the surface. And best of all, has a pretty good idea where Riyad’s being held.”
Even though Chief Rutledge could sing like James Taylor and play guitar just as well, his normal speaking voice was a gruff combination of sandpaper and bombast. Adam reasoned this came from years of barking orders at snot-nosed Navy pukes like him.
“Bullshit, Captain. The Kracori know we’re planning an attack on their world and they’re going to lock down the place tighter than a minister’s daughter on prom night.”
“Maybe not, Chief; another thing that Kroekus told me is that the cat’s now out of the bag.” More frowns from the Formilians. “The Kracori have announced their presence to the Nebula and are now going around seeking allies against the attack. They’ve been spreading the rumor that the entire Nebula’s at risk, and therefore it’s in the best interest of these other races to join them against the outsiders. The ship that’s been provided for us is from a planet very near the Void and built by a race that’s had ties with the Kracori all along. As it turns out, much of the Nebula was already aware of the Kracori, but they’ve been keeping it a closely-guarded secret.”
“So we have a ship and access codes to get us to the surface of Elision,” Trimen said, speaking for the first time. “What is your plan for each of us, or is that not finalized yet?”
“Just on the fly, I can give you some of the highlights of what I’m thinking. First off we all get to Elision without getting ourselves killed. Then after we achieve orbit, my military team and I drop down to the surface at night in a shuttle to the area where we suspect Riyad is being held. With Elision’s heavier gravity, it’s best that you and your Formilians stay aboard the main ship and help with the diversion tactics on the surface.”
“Through our Gifts—ATD’s? However, we came to offer more than just ancillary support”
“I realize that, Trimen, but the gravity is going to make moving around pretty tough for you. This will be a team effort, and everyone will play their part.” Adam paused to let the Formilians assimilate his alien phrasing, and then he continued: “We’ll broadcast a signal from the surface, allowing you to piggyback—ride along, sorry—until you can tap into the surface power-grid. We’ll need a series of disruptions throughout an area larger than our target so that no central point will become obvious. And the disruptions will have to be sporadic, with no discernable pattern. I want the Kracori to be as confused and unsuspecting as possible.”
Adam turned to his fellow Humans. “This will be like dropping into a foreign country to make an extraction, although we’ll stand out from the natives like never before. That’s why it’s important that we go in dark and stealthy. We want to attract as little attention as we can. Nightvision and suppressors, no flash weapons; those damn things can be seen for miles.”
“This is all assuming the informant’s intel is reliable,” Admiral Tobias offered.
“Exactly, Andy, that’s why I said I’ll give you the highlights. So much of the final op will depend on the accuracy and reliability of the information.”
Sherri raised her hand in a juvenile attempt to get his attention, and before waiting to be acknowledged she asked, “What about me? I see you conveniently left me off your military team.”
“I’d like you to stay aboard the mothership and coordinate everything from there.”
“I want to go to the surface—”
“It’s too dangerous,” Adam said in his command voice.
“Bullshit. I can handle it.”
“How much training have you had in just this type of covert operation?” he asked. “I’m not trying to embarrass or demean, it’s just that this is what SEAL’s are trained to do.” He held up his hand to stop the growing protest. “I know, you’re going to say all of us here are either retired, over-the-hill or out of practice for this kind of operation. That may be so, but we still have years of knowledge and muscle memory that makes us better suited for this op. You may be tough, gung-ho and willing, but you just haven’t operated as a member of a team like this before. We’ve been through this dozens of times.”
“Fine, asshole! Have it your way. But I’m also the only one here with any real medical training. What if you get down there and find that Riyad’s in really bad shape and in need of immediate medical care? What then?”
“We all have basic emergency medical training, Sherri. We’ll be able to get him to the shuttle and back up to where you can take over.”
“Then what the fuck did I get this stupid implant for if it wasn’t so I could use it?”
“Just hope you don’t have to.”
The lights in the common room suddenly dimmed. “I guess I can always turn out the lights when the boys are done playing war. It’s about all I’m good for around here.”
Andy Tobias leaned over closer to Sherri. “You do know this is probably a suicide mission? I’d rather not go if I had a choice.”
“It’s cool, Andy,” Sherri said. “It’s just big brother being overly protective. Is that also why you sent Kaylor and Jym ahead to Tel’or ... to get them out of the way?”
“I sent them to track down this Ruszel character. Up until a few minutes ago, I had no idea how we were going to get in close to Elision. The Tel’oran has been there before, and he also helped Riyad. He was our only real lead until Kroekus’s informant showed up.”
“So are you going to call them back and take them to the surface with you?”
Sherri picked up on Adam’s hesitation before answering and sent him a nastier-than-normal glare. “I’ll let them find Ruszel, as a backup,” Adam said. “And no, I’m not taking them to the surface, and for the same reason I’m not taking you or Trimen and his team.”
Sherri was about to respond until Chief Rutledge suddenly jumped to his feet. “Will the two of you shut your traps? The Captain’s right. The SEAL’s go in, and we go in alone. All you back on the ship will play a vital role in the mission, so stop your bitching. This will be a team effort, so start acting like part of the team!”
Sherri clamped her mouth shut and clenched her teeth. When she spoke again, she was looking only at Rutledge. “You’re right, Chief. Sorry. It’s just that I want to pull my weight around here. Riyad’s my friend, too.”
“Understood, ma’am, but we each have our designated roles to play, and yours is to run the show from orbit. You will be our eyes and ears.”
“And what do you call our role in the upcoming adventure, Mr. Rutledge?” Trimen asked, concerned that he and his Formilians were being ignored in the current conversation.
Rutledge grinned, while being careful not to expose his teeth to the aliens. “If the plan unfolds as Mr. Cain has detailed, then you will be the ants at the picnic ... and just the cover we need to get Mr. Tarazi home safe and sound.”
Adam shook his head as he watched the expressions on the faces of the aliens. Somehow he
didn’t think the Chief’s comment helped to clarify things very much.
Chapter 4
Finding a single Tel’oran out of several billion was a daunting task, so much so that Kaylor had pleaded with Adam to let someone else do the job. Yet in the end, the Human had been persuasive, reminding him that a Belsonian and a Fulquin would not draw as much attention as either Humans or Formilians would parading around the planet Tel’or. But what really sold him on the assignment was the opportunity to pilot the Pegasus to the planet.
Kaylor and Jym had never been aboard a concentrated-array spacecraft before, let alone been at the controls. And even though Adam regretted not being able to take the ship to the Juddle Nebula himself, he knew she would be in good hands with Kaylor at the helm.
Both the Pegasus and the Formilian starship 99012 had departed Formil at the same time—like most other alien species, Formilians did not name their ships. Yet with the added speed of the Pegasus, Kaylor and Jym arrived at Tel’or a full eight days sooner, and that was without even opening the ship up to her full potential.
As Adam had explained, it was imperative that the Tel’oran pilot Ruszel Crin be located prior to the team’s arrival at the Nebula. Ruszel was the only reliable source for locating Elision through the treacherous and tumultuous environment of the Nebula, and they didn’t have time to waste seeking him out after reaching Tel’or, knowing of the impending arrival of the Juirean fleet in the region.
It was also Kaylor and Jym’s job to convince the Tel’oran pilot to help. Short of that, Adam had authorized them to use whatever means necessary to secure said pilot for the trip through the Void and into Kracori space.
Normally using these two particular aliens for such an assignment would have been problematic, to say the least. The tall, slender Belsonian and the short, bear-like Fulquin were not known for their physical prowess or ruthless determination. And yet the Artificial Telepathy Devices they each had implanted under their skin changed all that—especially for Jym.
Although known to be grumpy and outspoken, most other species regarded the Fulquins to be simply a breed of amusing and harmless pets. Even though they were skilled technicians, specializing in electronic devices, their furry black faces and small stature caused none to see them as physical threats. And in the savage Milky Way Galaxy, without physical intimidation, you had nothing. As a result, Jym had embraced his ATD so much more than had Kaylor, being obsessed with finding all the marvelous things the device could do to help him even the playing field with more dynamic races. Jym was now arguably the foremost expert in the use of the device, behind only Adam Cain.
Kaylor could understand what Jym was feeling. He, too, felt an awesome new confidence in nearly everything he did. Even piloting an advanced spacecraft such as the Pegasus became child’s play, as Kaylor was able to monitor all the ship’s systems with much more accuracy and ease, allowing him to guide the ship with less conscious effort. The ATD—linked directly to his thoughts—could tap into all the ship’s systems on a level Kaylor had never imagined, giving him much more control and with quicker reaction times. He literally felt as if he was one with the ship.
And so it was with trepidation that Kaylor set the Pegasus down on the surface of Tel’or, and therefore exposing the ship to all kinds of added interest and scrutiny.
A Formilian ATD had a maximum range of only about half-a-mile; however, Adam Cain had found a way around that limitation. He discovered that the ATD was capable of sending his thoughts—and subsequently his control—over normal communications lines, be they primitive radio waves or Continuous-Wormhole links, allowing the ATD to operate even over galactic distances. So Jym set up a continuous signal between the communications system aboard the Pegasus and their ATD’s. This way the two pilots could monitor the ship while even being halfway around the planet Tel’or, and thereby protecting it from intrusion by curious natives.
With the Pegasus now secure, Kaylor and Jym set out looking for the Senior Guild Pilot Ruszel Crin. They began their search in the Tel’or capital city of Saf’in, where the Trade Guild was headquartered. It was from here that pilots were dispatched to guide Outers and locals alike through the deadly and unforgiving region of space known by the natives as the Silvean Nebula, and on the star charts as the Juddle Nebula.
It had been a little over four months since Ruszel sent his message to the Formilian Speaker Arieel Bol, informing her of Riyad’s capture. Since then, there was no telling where Ruszel could be. Jym had efficiently tapped into the Guild computers using his ATD, but found no mention of the pilot. Even the local residents’ directories came up blank. Their only remaining option was good old fashion boot-leather to find the elusive Tel’oran.
Having been a space-faring merchant for over forty standard years, Kaylor knew how spaceports operated, and he knew where to find ships’ crews when they were in port and off-duty. So after scouring a half-dozen of the most popular taverns outside the gates of the main landing field, they finally struck pay dirt.
“Ruszel! Of course I know of him, the impedium scumcup! He comes into an incredible amount of ruiens and then abruptly walks out without even a courtesy credit my way. We’ve flown together many times; you would think he would look out for his fellow pilots.” The green-skinned native was obviously intoxicated, and therefore free with this talk. His name was Kankus and he had to be over a hundred Tel’oran years old.
“So where did he go?” Kaylor asked, chugging on a strong intoxicant himself, while Jym suspiciously eyed every other patron in the bar. Between listening to the old pilot ramble on about what a rotten bastard Ruszel was—and watching Jym send teeth-baring snarls at anyone who looked at him for more than a second—Kaylor wasn’t sure how this night was going to play out. This old pilot was the first real lead they’d found in over seven days of searching, and Adam and the rest of the team were now only one day out. However it looked as if Jym’s newfound confidence and belligerence might interrupt the interview....
Kaylor was somewhat relieved to see that none of the Tel’oran natives reacted to Jym’s snarls, meaning they didn’t treat the baring of teeth as a life-challenge, as did most of the galaxy. Unfortunately, there were other races represented in the bar other than Tel’orans, and already Jym was causing some of them to stir.
The old pilot spoke: “He and Canos quit the Guild and have taken their bloodlines to The Lakes, along with his fancy new ship.”
“Where are The Lakes? We are new here.”
“Then why are you asking about Ruszel? He is no longer a pilot, and if you require one, I am available for private hire.”
Around the main spaceport, Kaylor had picked up rumors of another ship like the Pegasus that passed through a few months before. Could this be Riyad’s ship, the Ifrit? Kaylor wondered. If so, then how did Ruszel come to possess it?
‘We seek Ruszel in regards to the ship he now owns,” Kaylor improvised. “There is a title issue that we are seeking to resolve.”
“Scumcup!” the Tel’oran pilot spit out, spraying Kaylor with a partial mouthful of bitter intoxicant. Unconcerned, the alien continued. “I hope you yank that ship right from him. He was such a scumcup telling us all about what a superior ship he now possessed. So he could not own it in reality?”
Kaylor picked up on the line of thinking by the old pilot. “That is a possibility, yet we must confront him first. So where are The Lakes?”
“North of here, just at the base of the Esesian Mountains. It is an exclusive region most commonly reserved for Guild managers and directors and not for overly-fortunate pilots! Did he really receive that ship and the credits in return for a single fare? I know there are beings within the Expansion with credits to spare, yet this was beyond belief.”
“He may have stolen it,” Kaylor said, glad to see an even more animated response from the pilot.
“In that case, I will personally guide you to where I believe he is now residing!” Kankus said. “And if you allow me to see the look on his face when y
ou confront him, I would be forever in your debt!”
“Our transaction with Pilot Ruszel will have to stay private, yet if you guide us to his location, we could pay you a thousand ruiens.”
Kankus nearly fell off his seat. “Of course—a thousand—that would be acceptable.” And then he paused. “Half in advance?” he said with a question mark. “I have a tavern debt to clear before we leave.”
Kaylor grinned. He had been in the same situation many times before and could relate. He doled out the credits to the Tel’oran and then turned to see if Jym had started a fight—yet. Even though two sets of foreign creatures were visibly agitated at Jym’s challenges, none had acted on their anger, which only served to infuriate the tiny bear even more. Kaylor nudged his partner toward the door, with the old Tel’oran pilot bringing up the rear. It seemed that Jym wasn’t enough of a challenge to the aliens for them to bother, something that would do little for his small friend’s self-esteem. Kaylor knew it was only going to get worse from here on out.
********
Kaylor had secured a transport large enough for the three of them to make the two-hour journey to The Lakes in relative comfort, even though most of the trip was spent with the windows down to relieve the cockpit of the rank odor of Kankus’ intoxicant-laced breath.
As it was with most societies of advanced beings, wealth had its privileges, and The Lakes was everything you would expect from a conclave of the planet’s elites. The roads throughout the sprawling complex were extremely wide, bordered by manicured landscaping of lush green grass and tailored trees, now ablaze with the vibrant colors of springtime on Tel’or. All the homes were separated by several acres, many with tall security walls and iron gates through which were revealed extremely long driveways leading to massive, low-slung domiciles. Tel’oran homes were constructed with outwardly sloping exterior walls, providing a sheltered area around the perimeter under expansive rooflines that soared high to a zenith above the central point of the home. Inside would be a voluminous great room with a ceiling easily a hundred feet high.