by Greg Dragon
“We can check,” Helga offered after seeing the struggle taking place behind Fio’s words. She was holding it together, but like a vessel without shields another tragedy would likely pull her apart. “I don't know if it helps to know this, Fio, but what you and Djesu did makes you heroes of the Alliance. He will be honored, and you will be taken care of. How exactly? That’ll be up to the council, but you’re with us now, and we take care of our own.”
“What I wish was that I was there with you all when you got Garson Sunveil. I wish that I had the chance to face him and make him answer for murdering Djesu in cold blood. I wish I could have seen the life leave his eyes while he pleaded with the girl he tried to have killed. Everything you said was nice, Helga, and I do appreciate you giving Pops his honors, but what I want is blood.”
“Knowing the commander, you may not have been there to execute him, but Sunveil would have gone through some things before they turned him over. If there’s any consolation, know that his hurting one of our own would have guaranteed him a long, painful transition to the Genesian Guard,” Helga offered, though she knew it wouldn’t help much. “Just hang tight, Fio, justice is coming. For now, take this as a vacation with friends, and new possibilities on the horizon.”
32
It was obvious that the architects of Nova Mar station weren’t interested in aesthetics or tricking its residents that they were on a planet or moon. Walking the passageways leading away from the docks, Commander Cilas Mec let his eyes wander upward, tracing the iron bulkheads up to the overhead 12 meters above. Everything was large on the station, the path he walked so wide you could fit twenty spacers in a line across it.
Robed Genesians sauntered past him in groups, their voices little more than a whisper, none of them seeming to notice him or care, despite his out-of-place uniform. Genesian Guards were present as well, dressed in close-fitting armor similar to the Alliance Powered Armor Suit. Most were armed with assault rifles, a strange sight on an industrial station, though with the Geralos circling, Cilas wasn’t surprised.
From small grates near the bulkhead, a thin white plume of smoke rose up from someplace below. It stank of sulfur, but no one seemed to notice, though the smell was so intense at certain points that Cilas would reach up and pinch his nose. He wondered how long of a walk he would be taking before he reached the Alliance recruitment office where Commander Alwyn Star, his Nova Mar contact, was supposed to be waiting.
His wrist comms vibrated, and he glanced down at it, seeing a message received from Captain Retzo Sho by way of Commander Jit Nam of Rendron. It was brief, as was Commander Nam’s way. “Stay on Nova Mar until further notice,” it read. “Mission details coming.” It was as cryptic as the man who sent it, but led Cilas to believe it was related to their Basce City adventure. Perhaps Vray had been spotted on the station? He dared not hope. Conveniences didn’t come regularly, and the Nusalein Cluster had many other stations Vray could have gone to.
“Commander Mec,” someone called, and Cilas stopped to follow the source of the sound, which had come from the far side of the passageway where a tall, dark-skinned Vestalian officer in a spotless white uniform stood smiling at him as if they were old friends. The man reminded him of an older Raileo Lei, since they both had that charming smile below predatory eyes whose glare spoke of a long history of violence. He liked him immediately.
The two men waded past the passing station dwellers to greet each other, and the stranger introduced himself. He was Commander Alwyn Star, the Alliance recruiter on Nova Mar station, and the person responsible for adding over 250 cadets onto the Navy roster. A number he was proud of. “One Alliance,” was all Cilas could manage after Star had given him his credentials, since his record as a Nighthawk recruiter was nowhere close to that number, and included deaths and injuries that he still blamed himself for.
They spoke as they walked, Commander Star leading the way to his office, which fortunately for Cilas was on the same deck as the hangar. “Let me ask you a question,” the Nighthawk commander said after some seconds of silence. “This station appears to be a part of the Nusalein cluster, but it’s nothing like Neroka, or what I saw on the vid screens there of the other neighboring stations. Is there a reason?”
Alwyn Star chuckled. “I was waiting for that question. Nova Mar station is a proper hub. We repair ships, and handle imports and exports from not only the planet but from the other colonies. No goods come into the cluster without going through processing here. This is how we limit smuggling, particularly human trafficking, which is rife in this part of the galaxy, sad to say. Smugglers from the planet find their way through, but once caught, they come here to get processed and tried for high crime. Everyone living here is here for a job, since the governing council limits us coming and going to a handful of times per year—barring provable emergencies.”
“What made you take up this post?” Cilas queried. “Given your rank and track record, you could be at the helm of your own infiltrator fighting the lizards.”
“Not for me.” Alwyn Star laughed again. “I’m like you, Cilas. I may have been born on a deck waking up to charging generators and rotating energy stores, but I wanted to be where I felt my work meant something. You go at the lizards directly, you and your Nighthawks, keeping them on their scaly toes. Whereas, for me, I want to find more Alwyn Stars and Cilas Mecs to fill out the ranks of our Alliance. That is how we will win, I am sure of it. Putting the poor unfortunate orphans of the galaxy on vessels where they can strike back at the very scourge who placed us here.”
Now it was Cilas’s time to laugh. “Pleasure to meet you indeed, Alwyn. You were made for the role, it appears. Every word out of your mouth is a slogan. If I were a boy again, stuck on a hub such as this one, I would happily have signed up just from one of your speeches. Seems you’ve done your homework on me and my crew.”
“I hope you aren’t offended,” Star returned. “Old habits are hard to break, and as a recruiter, I need to know the people I am to meet with, not just from what their captain relays, but from their files, legends, personal records. For covert operations, however, you need no introduction, brother. Spacers across the entire fleet know of the Nighthawks. I regret that our meeting has to do with this mess that has come out of the greed from Basce City’s corruption.”
“Any word on that?” Cilas asked. “We left roughly a Vestalian week past, and I wasn’t given any information outside of docking here immediately and meeting with you to discuss things.”
“Following the shootings and threats to your lives on Neroka Station, the Genesian Guard has shut down access to the colonies. There won’t be anyone coming and going until they finish looking into things, and considering the loss of credits from this change, the Genesian government is bending over backward to help get them answers fast. Every colony in the Nusalein cluster has agents watching the stations. As soon as Vray or any identifiable citizens from Basce City tries to enter a starport, they will be held for questioning by an Alliance representative.”
“What an absolute disaster,” Cilas said with a shake of his head. “A city burned for five Genesian days, and for what? For the ones behind everything to make it out, leaving their colleagues to be pressed for answers, of which they’ll likely be clueless. Alwyn, in your honest opinion, what are our chances of finding Vray up here?”
“He will be found. That I can tell you definitively. Why am I so sure?” Star leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, “The Alliance reached out to the Jumper agency, and they’ve agreed to go after him. No one escapes the Jumpers’ reach, but I don’t have to tell you what they’re capable of. No, Vray’s time is up, though he likely doesn’t yet know it. Who we’re concerned with is Felan Lede, the former captain of the Harridan infiltrator. He’s managed to slip capture despite having a tracker planted on his vessel.”
“Missio-Tral’s Shrikes are exemplary,” Cilas started to offer, but caught himself mid-sentence when he remembered that Felan Lede was corrupted
by the Geralos. “Then again, the old captain is likely corrupted, so who knows where he could have gone. If he boarded one of their vessels, he’s no longer in this system.”
The passageway opened up into a large, circular deck filled with kiosks, vendors, and an assortment of doors with colorful signs advertising what each had in store. While Cilas took in the spectacle, letting his eyes roam upwards to where several landings and bridges offered even more traffic, Alwyn Star unlocked the door to his recruitment office, which sat below a large billboard showing a Marine with his boot on the skull of a Geralos.
“In here, Commander, before they notice your newness and swarm you with offerings of liquor and flesh,” he said, still smiling as if life was an endless pleasure for him. “There’s liquor enough in here if you need, without the premium on credits, and the chance of gut rot from some Genesian’s home brewed recipe.” He shuddered dramatically as if to show that it was an experience he’d had and didn’t recommend.
While he loved hubs and cataloging their differences inside his memory banks, Cilas was ready to get down to business. He was surprised that, despite the difference in station design and population, the layout of Alwyn Star’s office was similar to that of Colonel Orlan Fumo’s, who had been their contact on Neroka station. Alwyn grabbed two chairs and offered one to Cilas, and then scurried back behind his desk to retrieve an unmarked bottle of something dark. He poured a quick tip into two gold-rimmed snifters and handed one to the Nighthawk commander.
“To our Alliance.” He offered a toast.
“To the warmth of fellowship and to the corrupt feeling the chill after an airlock,” Cilas ad-libbed.
Commander Star seemed to like that, his grin getting even wider, and he knocked back the drink at the same time as Cilas, who struggled against the thick hot syrup that made its way slowly down his throat.
Alwyn Star noticed and his face grew solemn. “I apologize,” he offered. “Sometimes I forget myself whenever I have visitors from the Alliance. Having been here so long, I forget that the liquor is unlike what we have from the other planets. Genesian liquor takes some getting used to. A positively schtill experience consuming it, but Commander, you will love the results.” He winked and stacked their glasses neatly to one side of the squat, smoking bottle.
The thyping bottle is steaming, Cilas screamed inwardly, wondering how he’d managed to miss that important detail.
“Now that we’re alone.” Star leaned in as if he suspected someone might be eavesdropping on their conversation. “Message came in from the Genesian Guard, to be delivered to you, and to you only, Commander Mec. I am passing it onto you now. Will you acknowledge that my duty has been done?”
He stretched out one arm, peeled back the sleeve and unclipped a thick black bracelet. He removed a small panel on the underside of the band and extracted a miniature disk. Examining it closely, he took a breath and handed it over to Cilas, who took the object and placed it on the flat face of his own wrist comms. It reacted by revealing a cluster of hovering white glyphs, an encrypted message from their local allies.
“Commander Mec, this is Captain Torkel Aton of the Genesian Guard, I hope this message finds you well and clear in these dark times of sabotage and treachery. In response to your earlier query about properties owned by Councilman William Vray in the Nusalein Cluster, on Lestrat Station, Vray owns a considerable share of investment property located in the business sector. Starport surveillance showed him arriving three days prior to your departure. I went ahead and researched your rights as a galactic agency in collecting criminals from the colonies, and according to our law, fugitives are not eligible for sanctuary if their crimes involved treason. This extends to the galactic war.”
Cilas felt energized. He hadn’t dared to hope his Nighthawks would get another chance to fulfill their mission. Vray hadn’t fled the system as he suspected, but had stayed, which was a crucial mistake. Thinking dockhands and engineers he paid off would have been enough to keep his movement obscured, he had underestimated the rage that the attack on the tenements had caused. He wondered if Vray realized his time was up, or if he was too insulated to know when he was exposed and out of favors.
“He’s all yours, Commander,” Captain Torkel Aton was saying when Cilas’s focus was brought back to the present where he was hearing the good news. “The location of the property and blueprint details will be coming in momentarily, so please be on the lookout. Other than that, I wish you good hunting, and may his eventual demise bring peace to the citizens who’ve fallen victim to his greed for credits.”
Cilas looked up from his wrist-comms at a curious Star, who had been trying unsuccessfully to disguise his eavesdropping on the message. Cilas jabbed a finger at the desk’s surface where a two-dimensional diagram of the station clusters could be seen. “Lestrat Station, where is that exactly?” he asked, barely able to contain his excitement.
“Directly next to us. Well, not really, but yes, it’s the next station over from Nova Mar,” Alwyn Star informed him. “Are you needing to visit Lestrat Station?”
“I am,” Cilas admitted, “But only after my Nighthawks return. If this intelligence is sound, we’ll have plenty of time to go there and do what we have to do. If we can get Vray, the Jumpers can focus their search on Felan Lede, and his lizard puppet masters.
“If it’s like you say, and he’s no longer one of us, a, um … human? Then I will pray that he was with the crew of that dreadnought you vanquished, and permanently out of commission,” Star offered optimistically, placing a fist above his heart for added effect. “The longer a corrupted human draws air, the more risk we take of having it expose the host’s knowledge to their lizard leadership.”
“We’ll get it done,” Cilas said confidently. “But things like these, inside jobs, they get messy when it comes to extractions. People tend to look out for their own, and if Vray is considered one of theirs, they will make it difficult for us to go in and bring him out. Anything else I should know, Commander?”
“Just more bad news I’m afraid,” said Alwyn Star. “But with a somewhat happy ending to it all. Scythe was ambushed by the Geralos while patrolling Louine space.”
“That sounds familiar,” Cilas added, recalling Fio reciting the information that had been leaked by William Vray.
“It’s our worst nightmare realized,” Star said, becoming serious. “A pair of battleships leading five destroyers jumped in on their vector, so precise her crew should have been left helpless with no FTL options. Thanks to the action of your team, in acquiring Sunveil to corroborate our suspicions, we were able to get Scythe a warning that the lizards were on their way. Unfortunately, the message was received late, after they had been disabled and boarded—”
“Boarded?” Cilas nearly shouted, unable to believe what he was hearing. Geralos boots had made it onto a starship’s deck. “If they board a starship, they can claim her, and the thousands of crew. Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt, but tell me this ends with our boys and girls rallying to remove them from their decks.”
Alwyn Star nodded. “This is the Scythe, brother, have some faith. She’s the last surviving starship from the first conflict. Now hear. Inference was close enough to support them and chase the lizards back into deep space. Lots of casualties though; you don’t want the number. As for Admiral Hal, that old war dog, the Alliance is suggesting he retire to Sanctuary, where he’ll be honored as a legend while their doctors repair the hole inside his chest.”
“Admiral Hal is injured?” Cilas couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “How bad is it?”
“My contact was forbidden from giving out details, I’m afraid,” Star said with a wave of disappointment. “Admiral Hal caught shrapnel from a console exploding on his bridge. A zip-ship’s lancer cut through the soft hull once their shields had depleted. That did the old man in. He has been in stasis awaiting surgery ever since. They suspect it wasn’t accidental. First the leaks, then an admiral taken out.”
&
nbsp; “Now I know why we’re calling in the Jumpers,” Cilas muttered. “They got to one of our best, and cracked a champion starship. Just now we came up against a vessel, the dreadnought if you recall, and it was using ordnance that ignored our shields to tear apart my hull. Mission after mission we’re seeing the evidence that we’ve been infiltrated at every level.”
“Let’s not go down that road, Cilas. That road leads to cynicism, and you more than anyone should know how it affects you as a spacer, and as an officer. The evidence is there though; I’m not blind. It’s been there, and this situation with Vray has it incorporating civilians. It isn’t cynicism to recognize that we have to end that immediately.”
“What are you saying?” Now it was Cilas’s turn to look around for watching eyes or strangers straining an ear to hear their conspiracies.
“I’m saying that you were called in here, not only to repair but because this is where they likely suspect our runaway councilman to be. Your Lestrat Station, the one Vray owns. I have been sitting here puzzling it through. Why bring the ESO team to the colonies where they will be vulnerable when there’s an Alliance fueling station less than a jump outside of here? I believe we will find out soon enough if he was foolish enough to escape to his colony.”
“That or arrogant,” Cilas said, standing. “The way Fio made him sound, I wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t get the weight of what he’s done, and how every spacer in the galaxy wants to end him. Man like that will think small on the repercussions. He will think us getting Sunveil and not him will be the end of our searching since we got some sort of justice.”
“An interesting character study.” Star nodded his agreement., standing with Cilas to see him back to the doorway. “We’re glad you’re here, Commander. We Alliance are few here, and things are about to ramp up for all of us. I’m putting in for additional presence even on this station.”