by Reiter
“Looks like you’re going to have another class,” Ephaliun said, looking at Hunro.
“Gunner’s Mates don’t do much in the way of running, boy!” Siekor said sharply.
“Crew of the Xara-Mansura do much in the way of everything!” Dungias stated. “Or would you have thought me to be the Chief Engineer of the ship as well as its First Mate?” Siekor’s eyebrows lifted and he quickly shook his head ‘no.’
“Can’t say I saw that coming,” Siekor replied. “Is that class open to everyone?”
“Even if it were not, you could consider yourself with an open invitation.”
“Though, like Jocasta, I cannot say that I trust you,” Dungias thought. A soft tug came from his hip as Alpha signaled its agreement of that consideration.
“What’s the plan?” Ephaliun asked.
“It will be light soon,” Dungias said. “… which will negate the advantage we possess at the moment. Hunro, Siekor, you will procure a means of transport while Dugger maps a way back to the main shaft. According to my calculations, it is closer than the shaft we used to enter the city.”
“That sounds about right,” Siekor added. “But what will you do?”
“He’s going in to get Nulaki out,” Ephaliun said as he turned for the corner of the roof. Dungias looked at Siekor and nodded before he took hold of the ledge and threw his legs over the side. Siekor looked over the side to see how the large man was going to negotiate the descent, but there was nothing to see.
“Where the hell did he go?!” Siekor asked.
“Starting to feel that taking him on wasn’t the brightest move to make, right?” Ephaliun asked just before Hunro took hold of his arm, quickly bringing the smaller man to him.
“Starting to feel that he can’t be in two places at once?!”
“The first time you moved dumb, you got shot by the Captain,” Ephaliun glared up at the man as he spoke. “The second time you moved dumb, you got pummeled by the First Mate. What the hell do you think I’m going to do to you? Seeing as how the only thing I ever did was learn from the two of them and a guy who was good enough to teach me about poisons?!” Hunro’s eyes flared wide as he felt a sharp point at his thigh. “And you only grabbed one arm, genius! Care to make a wager where the second one is?
“No,” Ephaliun quickly inserted. “… don’t speak, you’ve already shown me enough of your brains. Just remember one thing: you’re big, but the man who trained me’s got at least three inches and ten pounds on you! He’s faster than Siekor and more ruthless than Tiebault. Yeah, we so scoped each one of you out! But you just keep on pushing for your old rank and place on a ship you couldn’t even keep.”
“Let him go, Soft Bone,” Siekor ordered and Hunro released his hold. “We’ve got to adjust our heading, big guy.”
“And now I know who’s got the brains in your outfit,” Ephaliun said before hopping off the side of the building. He crossed the alley and landed on the very slender ledge of the adjacent building. He had not judged his distance as well as he had wished and his body scraped against the wall before the landing. He crouched low and looked around to see if anyone had heard him. The coast was clear and he dropped to the alley floor. He then pointed at a downspout and the two men moved to use it to get down. They joined Ephaliun at the mouth of the alley, and Siekor wondered why he had not moved out into the street. As he peered around the corner, he found the reason for the young man’s hesitation.
“I’m guessing this was completely unexpected!”
** b *** t *** o *** r **
His eyes looked at the crystal with little concern. It was not a scheduled delivery, but that was hardly out of place these days. When the Black Assassins had been more hunted than feared, more time was given to the little details. Respect and honor were more commonplace, orders were given face-to-face and his superiors would at least look him in the eye when they made him change his plans.
“It’s not a death-warrant, is it?” Wilasi joked as she walked behind him. Her hip knocked against his buttocks, making him smile. “Are you to kill me after such a wonderful morning exercise?”
“Exercise?” he said, turning to face his wife. “Did you call it–”
“Well, you did make me do most of the work!” she noted, trying to make it sound like a complaint as she fell onto the bed.
“I’m an old man now,” Zurkor returned, trying to sound like he was weak and feeble.
“Fine, let’s both just lie to each other all day,” she suggested.
“In that case,” Zurkor said, approaching the bed. He looked at the woman lying naked atop the completely disheveled bed. She rolled over on her side, reading his eyes and letting him know, without so much as a word, that what he was thinking was an eagerly received notion. “I hate you!”
“I hate you!” she whispered as he lifted her from the sheets. Always appreciative of his strength, Wilasi allowed him to feel some of hers as she wrapped her arms around his neck and shoulders. “And I tire of your foul taste!”
“You’d have to have taste first,” he sighed before kissing the woman passionately on the mouth. She moaned at his urgency, returning his passion with her own. Her purple eyes opened as his mouth moved to her neck, and he dropped the data crystal he had received two hours ago. It had been marked urgent, but neither one of them was going to bring their embrace to a stop to review anything that was not marked ‘emergent’.
“You’re really going to hate me,” she said softly.
“I hate you already!” Zurkor insisted as he kissed her chest. Gasping in delight, Wilasi closed her eyes and summoned the last of her restraint. She took hold of her husband’s head and lifted his mouth away from her body.
“Why must you always get better at this?!” she asked and he frowned in confusion. Wilasi then remembered the game she had started and shook her head. “No, no, no… time out. I’ve been honest for a few seconds now.” Zurkor sighed, closing his eyes and placing the side of his face against his wife’s stomach.
“Which means I’m really going to hate you.”
“Undoubtedly.”
“Because I missed the slippers,” he added.
“You what?”
“Dropping that damn crystal, I missed my slippers.”
“Zurkor!” she exclaimed, lifting his head up. She looked into his gray and blue eyes in shock.
“What are you going to do, demote me?”
“If only I could,” she fired back before her face softened. “… then I could order you to never leave again.”
“Damn, that’s an order I could actually follow.” Slowly lifting himself off of his wife, Zurkor took a moment to gaze upon the love of his life once more. “Let’s–”
“Don’t!” she urged. “We’re having a wonderful holiday, and we both know you bleed black and silver. Don’t tempt me with leaving the ranks. Just read the damn crystal so you can make love to me again.”
Zurkor reached to the floor and retrieved the crystal, touching it to his brace-com. The device was activated and it read the crystal before displaying a series of symbols in front of the Black Assassin Officer. He frowned, recognizing the letters and symbols, concluding the origin point of the crystal.
“Is it Freund?” Wilasi asked as she rolled over on the bed.
“You always ask me that. I haven’t heard from him since Tau Upsilon.”
“You mean the wedding,” she corrected.
“Right! I do mean the wedding,” Zurkor nodded, unable to hold back his smile. That was one incredible send-off! But believe me, I’m in no hurry to hear from him again!”
“Careful, my husband. If it weren’t for those orders, we wouldn’t have met.”
Zurkor touched the symbols in the proper sequence to unlock the data download. “The one and only good thing that came from that campaign.”
Wilasi smiled and shook her head. It had been over twenty-five years ago when she had met the man she would come to call the love of her lifetime. A man she had initially de
spised. She had received orders to evacuate the system, but she had refused, seeking to verify the reports the Black Assassins had received. Two other Field Operatives had transmitted their findings, but Wilasi was not satisfied and remained behind as they took to their ships. By the time she had located and verified what she believed to be damning evidence, the devices to destroy Tau Upsilon had already been deployed. She was an Intelligence Officer, so she had known the risks of her work. She had thought she knew the Commander of the fleet chosen to carry out the mission. When his fighter came into view, Wilasi could not shake the thought, “He came himself?! He could have… he should have ordered any of his pilots to make the attempt. But he’s not that kind of man, is he? Maybe I should reconsider what I’ve been told about Zurkor Krensteele!” That was one almost simple wedding and four children ago. Zurkor had received the first of many promotions, and for a time Wilasi had been his Intelligence Liaison. She had, however, come to prove her worth on her own merits and left the rank and file, becoming a Councilor instead. Many had told her no man would take orders from his wife, but once again, Zurkor was not that type of man. It had not been easy, but their time together had been exceedingly worthwhile.
“It would seem that these orders are for us both,” Zurkor spoke as he read.
“Why would they send them to you then?” Wilasi asked.
“Because every rank has been placed on Battle Status,” Zurkor said as he read over the flashing words. “My orders are to collect you, three others, and escort you all to Srengaalia.”
“And what of your investigation of the White Shroud?!” Wilasi barked. “Your contact is due to report tomorrow!”
“They know. They’ve already assigned the matter to… Commander Tynaum Wilason Krensteele.”
“What?!” Wilasi sat up, hearing the name of her first-born child. “When was he promoted?!”
“Apparently some time before these orders were issued,” Zurkor replied. “They’ve given him his first command and a ship. Some bucket of woe called the Farrago.”
“This can’t be right,” Wilasi said, reading over Zurkor’s shoulder.
“His ETA is just over sixteen hours from now,” Zurkor said, sighing as the weight of his position and duty returned to his shoulders. “You might want to make contact with the other Councilors. They will respond much more quickly to you than to me.”
“Battle Status! An unscheduled convention! What is going on?”
“This stinks of all things Imperial, if you ask me.”
“I am perpetually asking you, and I would have to agree.” She paused for a moment, assessing the man in front of her. “My husband has already left the room, hasn’t he?”
“Do you really think our son is going to be punctual?”
“Right!” Wilasi said getting out of bed. “Not when he’s looking to impress his parents, his superior and a Councilor! We probably won’t have time to get a real shower in!”
“Okay, I’m confused,” Zurkor said, dropping the crystal to the floor again. “I thought a ‘real shower’ was when we fool around.”
“Dammit, Zurkor! How can you be aroused knowing your son might be coming to the door at any moment?!”
“Because I remember how he filled out the order forms for his delivery!” There was some argumentation to his advances. They quickly became giggled denials.
Necessity of action takes away the fear of the act, and makes bold resolution the favorite of fortune.
Francis Quarles
(Rims Time: XII-4202.02)
“Z, be advised,” Ephaliun transmitted. “… you’ve got unexpected people inbound to your locale, right now. And they look all kinds of important!”
“Message received and understood,” Dungias answered, speaking very softly. “My presence has yet to be detected. What is the status of my directive to you?”
“Three minutes out,” Ephaliun replied. It was not the amount of time Dungias had wanted to hear, but given the circumstances, it was far less than what he had expected to receive.
Five people approached, but Dungias’ attention was drawn to the man who was at the center of the front line of three. The demeanor of his stride, the way his focus swept over the grounds, missing the Traveler, but catching just about everything else, told Dungias the man had a weathered eye. One of his escorts stepped forward and pushed against the gates, but they would not open. For a moment, Dungias was homesick, seeing the EnerJa coming from the center man’s hands as he applied massive force waves to shatter the bar that held the doors in place.
“At the very least,” Dungias thought, “we can call this one an EnervationisT.”
The man allowed his hand to return to under his cape before he and his attendants resumed their stride. With the two escorts to the rear just clearing the archway, two men, each dressed in gray full-body gi, came to engage the EnervationisT, but those at his sides shifted from normal Terran appearance to black forms with red skin. They quickly engaged the attackers, as the man in the center kept walking. The two larger men from the second line quickly moved up to take the now-vacant flanking positions.
The form-shifting defenders were well-trained in the martial arts, and the outcome of the fight would have normally held some interest for Dungias, but the man continued to walk and the Traveler decided to stay with him.
“I must admit, I am interested in this one,” Dungias thought as he watched the man walk under his perch. “… that effort to open the outer doors did not seem to register on his body. And why would it when the EnerJa he used came from the bracer he wears,” Dungias thought as he shifted scanner modes. “But his body belies that he is not as adept in the way of physicality. Yes, I do feel like I am home again.”
Barging into the larger room, the tall man took a quick inventory of the people inside. Only two of them seemed to be of the sort he sought.
“Sultan,” Thessare said, giving a slight bow. And Nulaki registered the surprise on his face.
“That’s the Sultan now?!” he asked.
“I am indeed the Sultan of Cashmere,” the tall man answered as he reached into his shoulder bag. He took out a familiar looking black shuriken which he held up for all to see. “And I am looking for the owner of this weapon. We have matters of property to discuss.”
Nulaki blurted out a laugh as he slapped his thigh. Dungias grinned at the sleight-of-hand the thief had performed. “Well, I guess that’s just your luck, Thessare. Years ago you were trumped by a spinning outside crescent kick. Today, it’s the new Sultan of Cashmere. You should come away from this feeling as if you’ve grown.
“That’s my shuriken, your Sultanship,” Nulaki admitted as he lifted his hand.
“Then you need to come with me,” the Sultan commanded as his original flank men walked up and took positions to their master’s back. Dungias could no longer hear the sounds of struggle, just moaning and challenged breathing coming from the outside courtyard.
“Sultan, I must protest!” Thessare said defiantly. “My mistress served the city of Sandthrunn faithfully all her life.”
“She did,” Nulaki said as he nodded, feigning seriousness. “Except for the times that she didn’t.”
“This man is in possession of items that my order requires!” Thessare continued, trying to ignore Nulaki.
“Get in line…” the Sultan snapped his fingers as he tried to recall the name of the person to whom he was speaking.
“Thelicious,” Nulaki suggested and the Sultan quickly repeated it before glaring at Nulaki who laughed, held up his hands in surrender, and started toward the Sultan.
“You will hold your place!” the Manchu ordered and Nulaki looked at the old man, seeing something new that he had not noticed before.
“You’re not of the Bronze Sun Order,” Nulaki said softly before looking at Thessare who was looking between Nulaki and the Manchu, appearing somewhat more worried than a moment ago. “No!” Nulaki exclaimed. “You sold out?!”
“None of this is your concern!” Thessar
e shouted. “Sultan, I promise you that once I am done, I will deliver this disgrace to you. You will also find him more susceptible to suggestion when he arrives.”
“And that is what we in the business refer to as a ‘wolf-ticket’,” Nulaki stated. “Not to mention you assume I have a problem in talking to the man.”
The Sultan did not appear to be fazed by any of what he had heard or seen. He gestured toward Nulaki who quickly nodded and walked toward him. “Not that it matters. I will get from the man what I need and if I am so inclined, I will send for you to come and fetch him from my palace.”
“Ooooh!” Nulaki whooped as he walked. He looked at Thessare and glared. “I mean, I know, what with our background, how set you are with humility. But seriously! Are you going to take that?!”
“Brothers and Sisters!” Thessare called out. The columns had been hiding more than the Manchu, as fifteen people walked out on to the main floor.
“And this is only half of them, eh?” Nulaki thought.
“I cannot let you leave with this man, Sultan,” Thessare stressed.
“Apparently your mistress failed to teach you to remember your place,” the Sultan replied as he clapped. The count of his guard doubled to eight and they took combative stances with swords appearing in their right hands and shields suddenly covering their left shoulders.
“Awww shit!” Nulaki cried out. “It’s on now! Better watch out for the Manchu, Sultan!” Nulaki said as he pointed at the old man. “That’s Kanos Geem!
“Whatever that’s supposed to mean,” Nulaki thought.
“I’ve never been one to appreciate or fear Chi MajiKs,” the Sultan said as he approached the Manchu.
“Perhaps you lack the proper instruction,” Kanos said before throwing a stone at the Sultan. Catching the stone in his hand the Sultan looked disgusted at the attempt.
“Let me guess, this is supposed to turn me to stone or something like that?”