- XXV - Miakr opened the airlock. He jumped back. His head lamps caught a drifting figure's face as it moved out of the airlock. Staring eyes, a muzzle with lips curled back in hate showing razor teeth. He yelled and swung instinctively. Battle dress swatted away the fearsome apparition like a fly. Miakr looked on as the vargr tumbled across the room stiff as a board and bounced against the far bulkhead. "Dead?" he asked. Vole caught the corpse from its gyrations. "Very dead. But this one didn't die from oxygen starvation." "What do you mean?" asked Gresha. Vole turned the corpse around to face them: a female. Two holes were torn in the body. "Looks like nine millimeter bullets. Now we know why the one on the bridge had an SMG." "She's wearing a corsair uniform." Gresha pointed out. "What band?" asked Shtam. "Looks like the Uekalez. Hard to say though." "What do you know about them?" "Tough group. Strong in space. This Vixen must've been theirs. Had a good fleet 'til recently." she said remembering. "What happened to them?" asked Shtam. Gresha shook her head. "The usual I think: internal splits, competition moving in. Happened about three months ago. I don't know." "Interesting." commented Vole. "I estimate the time of death of this vargr at approximately three and one half months ago." - XXV - Ten robots stood motionless in the engine room. "They're out of fuel." noted Miakr. "Probably drained to keep the life support going." "Agreed." nodded Shtam. "Vole, how much fuel do you have at the moment?" "Thirty three point six liters." "Well, it will have to do." "What do you mean Shtam?" asked Miakr hesitantly. "To get control of this ship we will need to use Vole's fuel to power up the engines." Shtam explained. "What?" shouted Miakr. "We have to stop the ship's spin before we can refuel it. To do that we will use Vole's fuel. He does not carry much, but it ought to be enough to stop the rotation." "He won't have enough to operate!" shouted Miakr eyes wide. Gresha stared, "Miakr?" "What's the matter?" wondered Shtam, "It will not damage him." Miakr glared "He'll be out of power." "So?" asked Gresha. "He can't operate. I won't allow it." "Miakr," began Shtam calmly, "Vole will only be powered down for a little while, an hour at most." Miakr only glared. "It sound's like a sensible plan." broke in Vole, "But, may I suggest that I be left with point two liters of fuel?" I can operate for one hour on that amount." Miakr eased. - XXVI - Miakr glanced at the gauges nervously. "Fuel temperature rising... Approaching ignition temperature: thirty seconds." Shtam looked over the main engine christmas tree. "Gresha, we will have power in twenty four seconds. Stand by to activate emergency de-spin. Flamboyant stand by for fuel transfer." Gresha's radio sounded from the bridge. "Standing by." Niedrsha in the Flamboyant called, "We're in position." Miakr shot a glance across his shoulder, "Vole, how is your fuel holding out?" "I will be forced to shut down in two minutes seventeen seconds." "Vole," wondered Shtam, "can't you conserve fuel?" "No, he can't." snapped Miakr. "His fuel cell has only so much variability. He's set on lowest power output right now." Shtam ignored the curt reply. "Here it comes. Four seconds to ignition." The plasma became more and more violent in its slam dancing ultra violet display. Suddenly, under the wing of a gaussian, two deuterium atoms collided with unusual force. Two individual nucleii suddenly met. After billions of years of solitude, the protons embraced, and clung to each other with tremendous force, heat and desire and became one for all eternity. Love is found everywhere in nature. "We have fusion ignition!" called Shtam, "Activating bridge controls." "She's alive!" shouted Gresha. The ship jerked under their feet as the emergency de-spin system fought the torque of the Vixen. They held on as the ship suddenly moved without them. Vole, with nearly no power to stop himself, drifted up to the center of the engine room. The maneuver jets ate the Vixen's spin. She slowed and stopped her slow pirouette. "Flamboyant, commence docking and fuel transfer." smiled Shtam. "Quick, Shtam!" shouted Miakr urgently, "Can I bleed off another point two liters for Vole?" - XXVII - Hours later, the boarding party was aboard the Flamboyant. "Well, how are the engines of that thing, Shtam?" asked Niedrsha. "Looks like she's pretty beat up." Shtam set his air tanks to recharge. "Well, actually, the Vixen is in fairly good condition considering what it must have been through. Those ships are built to only be used once. When they fire the main missile bay it shakes the ship apart. She may have been used a few times." Shtam stretched and continued. "She appears to have recently undergone a major overhaul. The equipment appears to have been stripped from other Vixens to make one working one out of several damaged ones." "It's been cannibalized." nodded Jietlshaiepr. "Precisely. It's been without power now for some time. The engines need to be thoroughly checked before she can make jump." Niedrsha shook his head. "Too fuckin' bad. We don't have the time. We got to get after the doc." "However," continued Shtam, "if we leave someone here to go over the ship, and get her going again. We will have a nice little warship with the armament of a light cruiser to bargain with. It would take a thirteen hundred ton ship to carry the same armament as this one." "And, it carries nukes." nodded Niedrsha. "Who's staying?" Shtam raised an eyebrow. "Miakr has already volunteered. He, Vole and Gresha will stay behind." Jietlshaiepr's brows knit, "How will they survive? The original crew died." "We will have to take the Vixen to Aramat's orbit. There, we can pick up oxygen for the life support. She will have enough fuel to last twenty four weeks at full power. That should be plenty of time for us to reach Massina, have the forensics experts go over the Flamboyant and return." "Miakr doesn't mind staying?" queried Jietlshaiepr. Shtam shook his head. "No, he seemed anxious to stay. He has ten robots to tinker with: the automated crew of the Vixen." "Sounds like a good plan to me." nodded Jietlshaiepr. "Sure," nodded Niedrsha, "let's do it. It'll take a few days for us to reach Aramat from here." Shtam smiled, "I will ride on the Vixen. I can find out what repairs she will need and make up a shopping list for parts." - XXVIII - Sector Capital Massina Belt A000922-B Encoded Computer File 604 Gunned Escort Flamboyant To: Agent 604 From: Colonel Korispatl, Chief of SORAG operations Ikar Sector Date: 1102-105 Message: I have received your report on your observations of Dr. Mako Malenkoviepr. His disappearance has confirmed some facts concerning the defector: Colonel Baremkatlashche'. I also am in receipt of the report from forensics concerning the analysis of the gunned escort Flamboyant. Your orders are to continue with your current cover in an attempt to recover Dr. Malenkoviepr. For this your group's ownership of the escort has been approved. Colonel Baremkatlashche' has been busy it seems. Malenkoviepr is one of several scientists now missing. Our agents report the kidnapping of several prominent scientists. The connection between these kidnappings and Baremkatlashche' has been found by your report. It seems that three years ago an expedition was mounted by SORAG agents to find the lost Imperial Colonial Cruiser Kinunir. The expedition was lost with all hands, cause unknown. The agents involved were hand picked by Baremkatlashche'. It is to be assumed that they did recover the Kinunir and defected to who ever Baremkatlashche' is now working for. The Kinunir has also been sighted in formation with the pirate transport Star Rider also known to be connected with Baremkatlashche'. The Flamboyant it seems is an interesting case in the extreme. The ship matches serial numbers of a gunned escort owned by the Imperial Mega-Corporation Al Morai. It was lost two years ago at grid reference 0410 in the Ile subsector on the rimward extreme of Ikar sector. This system commonly known as "The Edge" has presented a great problem to shipping in that for as long as records go back, no ships have returned from there. Lost in that system are several Zhodani and Imperial warships, the largest and most recent of which was the Imperial Scout Cruiser: Bright Light of the Azhanti High Lightning class. We have received reports that the Mega-Corporation Halden Minerals has found evidence that the planet at "The Edge" is the habitat of psionic organisms which kill starship crews by driving them insane. This is unconfirmed. However, it would seem that Baremkatlashche' and his people have solved the problem of going there and has managed to recover the lost ships. This may explain why the particle accelerators have been removed from the Flamboyant. The accelerators were either damaged and could not be replaced, while other more powerful ships had priority for repair, or they were deliberately removed to be placed on more heavily armed vessels. Halden Minerals may have connections with Colonel Baremkatlashche', however, this may be difficult to track as Halden Minerals has backers in nearly every government in the Ikar sector. Governments owning stock include: The Domain of Alntzar, The Descarothe Hedgemony, The League of Suns, The Trelyn Domain, The Principality of Caledon, The Easmolian Confederation, The Confederacy of Duncinae, The Grand Duchy of Marlheim, and The Carrill Assembly. There is also considerable stock held by the Dakaar trading company. You will be notified if any of these leads prove to be fruitful. Analysis of materials used and techniques reveal that the Flamboyant was modified using tech level thirteen equipment. This matches the tech level of the Imperial Viper class fighters found in the Air/Raft bays The welds in the ship show stresses indicating the force of gravity on the planet where it was modified. Analysis shows the gravity being approximately twelve meters per second per second acceleration. (World size nine.) Gas contaminants in the welds show a high degree of industrial pollutants. This would indicate that either the planet had a tainted atmosphere, or the ship was in confined in a tainted environment when worked on. We have compiled a list of suspect planets in the sector. It is interesting to note that no planets in the Ikar sector have tech thirteen at this time. A few tech fourteen planets there are, but none at thirteen. Nevertheless, we have compiled a list of possible sites for the base where the Flamboyant was modified: JUNGLEBLUT SUBSECTOR Thenstor 0101 C9C6488-A S Independant planet G Mirayn 0504 D989737-7 Independant planet G Winder 0705 C966697-9 S Independant planet G FESSOR SUBSECTOR Orbell 0106 C97766A-7 Trelyn Domain G Shodat 0110 X944266-1 Trelyn Domain, Prison R NOMANN'S SUBSECTOR Kualakhtaea 0809 X987673-1 Independant planet, Reserve RG SCOTIAN DEEP SUBSECTOR Stirling 0605 A957865-C A Principality of Caledon G Mulkins 0710 D9B4358-7 Independant planet G EA SUBSECTOR Fask 0208 C9868AA-8 Grand Duchy of Marlheim AG Roikhoi 0404 C969543-4 Independant planet G Fulton 0704 C98A788-9 Confederacy of Duncinae There are other possible planets, however, they have been ruled out. The independant planets listed could not afford such an operation by themselves. They are listed on the possibility that an outside government has established a base of operations there. Pirate activity appears to be centered in the Jungleblut, Fessor, Scotian Deep, and Caledon subsectors. Of special note is the Zylath system in the Domain of Alntzar (Jungleblut subsector 0307). There may be a pirate base there. We have received information that the pirate organization sought to purchase ships from the vargr corsair band Uekalez. The delivery was to be made in the Zylath system, after first bringing the ships down from the Vargr Extents. During this transport, the Vixen missile platform which you have recovered misjumped. Upon delivery the pirates attempted to capture the vessels rather than pay. The resulting battle left the Uekalez fleet damaged or captured. This information was obtained from survivors of the frigate Gdaekvorr. After the battle, the ship misjumped far into the Consulate and were interrogated by our staff. Five of the corsairs are currently seeking passage out of the Consulate and are waiting at the Massina Belt. They have been manipulated by our agents to seek employment with your group. The gunned escort requires a crew of twelve. With the addition of these corsairs you should have an adequate crew. The corsairs also carry sufficient armament to be an asset to your mission. See their appended resumes. Your top priority is finding the location of Dr. Malenkoviepr. At this time we do not know if he was taken willingly or not. Should you locate him, you are required to return him to the Consulate. If necessary you are to eliminate Dr. Malenkoviepr to prevent his possible collaboration with Colonel Baremkatlashche'. Good Luck. Appendix: Corsair Force Leader Taek Kfoks BD9AC9 age 30 Race: Vargr Sex: Male Homeworld: Gkakhaellan Height: 1.76 Meters Fur Color: Black Eye Color: Green Class II Small Craft Pilot Liscence Class I Engineer's Certificate Class I Gunner's Liscence Possesses an implanted radio transciever. Leadership training and experienced liaison officer. Contacts Vargr. Equipment qualified on: Sensors, Battle Dress, Explosives, Computers, Combat Rifles, Hand Guns, Grav-Belt, Grav Vehicles Combat Skills: Experienced squadron leader. Has achieved distiction as a marksman, Has reached the second level of mastery of unarmed combat and zero gravity combat, and edged weapons. Has served as an experienced scout. Experienced in ship to ship tactics. Has attended Command College and Commando School, achieved high distinction in Intelligence School. Weapons and equipment owned: 3 Tillys, Battle Dress, Gauss Rifle, Accelerator Rifle, SMG, Gauss Pistol, Snub Pistol Corsair Force Subleader Tuerz 1EA996 age 26 Race: Vargr Sex: Male Homeworld: Gkakhaellan Height: 1.74 Meters Fur Color: Grey Eye Color: Yellow Class I Small Craft Pilot Liscence Class I Gunner's Liscence Class I Medic Certificate Possesses an implanted radio transciever. Experienced in liason and forcible interrogation techniques. Equipment qualified on: Sensors, Vacc Suit, Explosives, Computers, Combat Rifles, Hand Guns, Grav-Belt, Grav Vehicles Combat Skills: Has achieved high distiction as a hand gun marksman, Has reached the second level of mastery of zero gravity combat. Has served as an experienced scout. Experienced in ship to ship tactics. Has attended Commando school, Intelligence school. Weapons and equipment owned: Laser Pistol, Integral Laser Pistol, Hypo-Gun, Grenade Pistol, Gauss Pistol, Snub Pistol & Revolver, 8 Body Pistols, Silencers, Sniper Barrel, Flintlock Pistol, Percussion Revolver, Hand Cannon, Combat Armor, Vacc Suit, Reflec, Grav Belt Corsair Force Subleader Stuzzel D676A6 age 30 Race: Vargr Sex: Male Homeworld: Ghaerthu Height: 1.49 Meters Fur Color: Brown Eye Color: Light Brown Class I Small Craft Pilot Liscence Class I Engineer's Certificate Class I Gunner's Liscence Contacts Vargr. Trained as administrator Equipment qualified on: Sensors, Battle Dress, Explosives, Computers, Heavy Weapons, Combat Rifles, Hand Guns, Grav-Belt, Grav Vehicles Combat Skills: Has reached the second level of mastery of unarmed combat, and edged weapons. Experienced in ship to ship tactics. Has recieved commando training. Weapons and equipment owned: Battle Dress, Broadsword, ACR, LMG, Snub Pistol Corsair Hand Kaezorr 874775 age 26 Race: Vargr Sex: Female Homeworld: Gkakhaellan Height: 1.47 Meters Fur Color: Light Brown Eye Color: Green-Brown Class II Gunner's Liscence Instructor Equipment qualified on: Battle Dress, Computers, Combat and Low Recoil Rifles, Hand Guns, Grav Vehicles Combat Skills: Has achieved distiction as an accelerator rifle marksman, Has reached the second level of mastery unarmed combat of zero gravity combat. Weapons and equipment owned: Battle Dress, Gauss Rifle, Accelerator Rifle, Snub Pistol Corsair Hand Rackhan C88644 age 34 Race: Vargr Sex: Male Homeworld: Ghaerthu Height: 1.51 Meters Fur Color: Brown Eye Color: Brown Class II Engineer's Certificate Class I Gunner's Liscence Experienced and resourceful computer, electronics and mechanical technician. Equipment qualified on: Battle Dress, High Energy Weapons, Heavy Weapons, Computers, Combat Rifles, Hand Guns, Grav Vehicles Combat Skills: Has reached the first level of mastery of unarmed combat. Weapons and equipment owned: Battle Dress, ACR, LAG, Snub Pistol (Tilly Operator) CraftID: Vargr Exoskeleton 'Tilly' TL=14 Cr 1,097,355 Hull: (1/1) (400/1000) Disp=2Kl, Config=Contoured, Armor=18G, Loaded=3961Kg Power: (2/2) Fusion=370kw, Dur=75.5 Days Loco: (2/2) Legs=2, Road=152, Offroad=92 Comm: Radio=Cont, Maser=Reg Sensors: Visual(+telescopic +Active IR)*2, Audio=Dist*2 Spotlight, Off: FGMP-14, RAM Auto Grenade Launcher, Gauss Rifle, Laser Welder Def: Smoke Ejector Control: Brain, HoloHUD, Slave Unit, ECP Acccom: Seat=Worn, BasicEnv, BasicLS Other: Fuel=1366liter, Heavy Arm*2, Audio Speaker, ObjSize=Small, EMLevel=Faint, Strength=200 - XXIX - The High Consular hotel: reservations made to nobles, diplomats, and members of the Legion of Honor. A posh place. Robot servants, sophont servants. Fine foods, and the best luxuries that could be brought from the Consulate. It was a show piece for visiting diplomats. They would see the wonders of the Consulate and be eager to do business with them. There are more than one ways to conquer a sector. Jietlshaiepr sat nervously in the rented suite, "I've never tried recruiting, but, it seems like we've been looking an awfully long time. Shtam, you ever have to do this when you were a factor in the merchant marine?" Shtam ran a hand through his hair and stretched. "No, you have to remember though I was working inside the Imperium. We hired our people in the Consulate and brought them to the post. We could not trust the Imperials. It was an interesting time though." "Where the hell were you?" yawned Niedrsha. "Right in the heart of the mess: on Regina." A small golden sphere floated into the sumptuous room. "Excuse the intrusion," it began in a humble voice, "There are two Vargr here to see you. They claim to be seeking employment with you." "Send 'em in." gestured Niedrsha. The sphere retreated, and in a moment the main entrance to the suite opened. The two stood framed in the surveying the room. Both were rather tall for Vargr. The larger of the two wore a long bright red coat emblazoned with gold braid and ribbons. The leader no doubt. He strode into the room nonchalantly taking in the entire setup in a glance and nodded to three Zhodani. His fur was jet black save for his white face with white eyebrows and white hands. "Good evening. My name is Kfoks: Force Leader Taek Kfoks. And this is my lieutenant: Force Subleader Tuerz." Kfoks gestured to his companion. Tuerz was nearly as tall as Kfoks, but incredibly slender. She wore a tight black body suit and skirt which showed her tall willowy form which moved with inhuman grace as she swayed forward as if blown by a breeze. Her fur was flaming red-orange with a white face and black ear tips. Her head swung slowly around scrutinizing the entire room. Satisfied for the moment she stood beside Kfoks with hands on hips thrusting her chest slightly forward. Her eyes continued the surveillance of the room. "Greetings, Force Leader Kfoks," intoned Jietlshaiepr, "I am Jietlshaiepr, this is pilot Niedrsha and engineer Shtam." "You advertized for ship crew members." stated Kfoks laying resumes on the table. "I'm here to represent five of us. All with shipboard experience and expertise." "Very good," nodded Jietlshaiepr glancing them over. "And what sort of ships have you been on?" "Several, but we all served on a frigate." said Kfoks. "In what capacity?" asked Shtam. "Three as fighter pilots, one as a gunner and one as engineer. Most of us have some experience as engineers." "What sort of frigate was this?" wondered Shtam. "The Gdaekvorr: a standard vargr frigate. She was rather on the old side though." Niedrsha leveled his gaze at Kfoks, "Were you in a corsair band?" Tuerz swiveled around to face Niedrsha, her body moving as though it were on a turntable. She drew herself to her full height. Kfoks smiled tightly, biting down. The bone transmitter sounded in Tuerz's skull, "No." "Yes, we were." nodded Kfoks. He turned and put an arm around Tuerz shoulder and scratched her behind the ears. "But that's over with for now. Right now, we are looking for transportation out of the Consulate, and we are more than willing to hire on as your crew. However, I must say that if you would hire one of us you must hire all. We do not wish to be broken up." Tuerz laughter trilled, "I wouldn't be to sure about Stuzzel. He wants out any way he can." "I see," said Jietlshaiepr, brushing her hair back over her shoulders and stretching gloriously. "And if we can not accommodate you?" Kfoks folded his arms, "Then you can't accommodate us." Shtam spoke up. "Right now we need two gunners, and three pilots, preferably with engineering and military experience." Kfoks raised an white eyebrow. "That's us." Niedrsha asked, "What corsair band were you in?" "The Uekalez. If that means anything to you." "The band broke up a few months ago." said Shtam. Kfoks sighed, "Well, yes and no. We are broken up. But we didn't do it by ourselves. We had an awful lot of help from a group of particularly playful humans." "What happened?" asked Jietlshaiepr. Kfoks threw up a paw, "Well, we were going to sell them some ships. But when we delivered them, it seems that they didn't fancy the idea of actually paying us for them. Our leader took exception to this. Seems he rather liked money. In any event their ships fought our ships, our ships fought their ships, etc. "But during the battle our captain decided that the better part of valor was cowardice and he tried to run us out of there. But, we didn't quite make it, the jump drive was damaged. We misjumped far into the Consulate. We five are the survivors," "That would be from a crew of at least eight but probably was more than twenty two." commented Shtam. Tuerz glanced sidelong at Shtam, "Twenty five." "Sounds like fun." mumbled Niedrsha. Kfoks made a sweeping gesture with his tail, "Piece of mutton. We were all in the engine room. The rest of the ship was torn apart. We salvaged what we could and sold her for scrap." "What band was this battle with?" wondered Niedrsha. "I'm afraid I haven't any idea." confessed Kfoks. "Our leader wasn't the confiding type. They had a pretty large support system though. Good resources." "What makes you say so?" asked Jietlshaiepr. "Their fleet. They had several large warships. Including an Azhanti High Lightning class cruiser, a tender in the forty thousand ton range that looked an awful lot like the Star Rider which was destroyed, a few Zhodani and Sword Worlds ships in the destroyer range: two and three thousand tons, a Kinunir class battle cruiser, and a host of other smaller ships and escorts." Jietlshaiepr exchanged glances with Niedrsha. Kfoks paused and ran his claws through the fur on his head. "A fleet like that needs a lot of supporting equipment and bases. I think that they must have a government subsidizing them." "The odd thing about the battle," he continued, "was that while those ships were there, they didn't take much of an active part in the battle. They stayed off at extreme range and sent in fighters. And the fighters! They sent Shtelfires and Shorichans! They haven't been used since the third frontier war one hundred years ago. And they were completely obsolete then." "Well," objected Shtam, "the Shtelfire was one of the best fighters ever built, an excellent good design for tech level twelve. I restored one once for a museum. The battle of Farreach over in Jewell subsector was fought and won by young Zhodani's in Shtelfires. And unless I'm mistaken they were used in the fourth frontier war by Consular client states." Kfoks shook his head, "That was twenty years ago. Those states have newer cast offs from the Consulate now." "Nevertheless," continued Shtam, "the Shtelfire was one of the best fighters ever built. They're collector's items now. Highly effective in combat." "I agree," sighed Kfoks wryly, "I can testify to their effectiveness in combat personally." "Where exactly did you see the Kinunir class battle cruiser?" asked Jietlshaiepr impatiently. "Zylath, down in Jungleblut subsector." Niedrsha considered it, "That's in the Domain of Alntzar." "That's right." Jietlshaiepr exchanged glances with Niedrsha and Shtam. "Would you care to show us exactly where?" she asked. - XXX - Warning lights and sirens announced the approaching tilly. Like a metal tyrannosaurus, it lumbered up the ramp to the Flamboyant's cargo hold. Its motors whined as its piston legs crested the cargo ramp. It carried the crates of arms the vargr had managed to salvage from the wreck of the frigate, approximately one hundred and fifty kilos. The armored face plate of the modified cargo carrier went down and Stuzzel poked his light brown muzzle out. "Hey, uh, Sitlshaper, where do you want this equipment?" Tuerz shook his head in disgust. He had gotten rid of the skirt and his fur was pure white to match his tight body suit. The lack of breasts made his slender frame look even more frail than before. "Look you oaf, her name is Jietlshaiepr, and if you'd use your head once in a while instead of getting out of practice with it, you'd realize that the guns just might be something we may need access to in a hurry. Don't bury it in the back of the hold." "Grrrach! Shut up, Snow White! Just cause you won't soil your lily white hands..." Tuerz stroked the handle of his gauss pistol. Jietlshaiepr interrupted, "Over on the left side of the hold, next to the food supplies." she ordered. "Blast these two!" she thought angrily, "If they keep arguing I'll kill them both! Twice!" Shtam watched as the tillys were used to load the Flamboyant. "Kfoks, how much can those things carry?" "The tillys? I'm afraid it depends on how experienced the operator inside is. I believe the record was something like nine hundred and eleven kilograms. I can manage six hundred fairly easily. They were cargo carriers originally. A friend of mine modified them: fusion gun, gauss rifle, RAM auto grenade launcher. They make for rather fun toys. Rackhan's using mine at the moment. We have a third, but it needs repairs before we can operate it." "Maybe I can help," mused Shtam. "I'm pretty good with machines." Kfoks shook his head. "I'm afraid we need a robotics expert Shtam. The whole things in pieces." "I believe we have a robot expert." "Oh yes, aboard the Vixen. Perhaps he can do it. I want a good look at that ship though. I never thought I'd see that one again. She may have some interesting things aboard." "Oh? For instance?" "Navigational information in the computer. If you're right about the Uekalez being completely broken up then perhaps we can use ransack some of our emergency supply bases." "Good stuff?" "A start. With it I can build up my empire." "Ah yes, I think I understand the vargr empire, it looks as though you have a small start: four followers." Kfoks looked Shtam straight in the eye. "As I said, it's a start. And revenge is always a good place to get going, particularly when the object of that revenge is rich." "And powerful." warned Shtam. "That's where our association comes in: we are working towards the same end." "We just want the doctor back." "The doctor probably wants vengeance too." "Perhaps. Who knows?" Kfoks mused a moment. Finally he cocked his head, and examined Shtam more closely. "You said you restored a Shtelfire once, did you ever get to fly one?" Shtam laughed, "No, unfortunately not. The museum would barely let me warm up the engines." "What museum?" "Oh, actually it's in the Imperium: Regina/Regina. I was a factor there, and I helped them fix it up. They didn't like the idea of a Zhodani taking up a Zhodani built fighter over their sector capital even if it was not armed." "Wait a minute, was that the Imperial war museum?" "Yes." "I've seen your work. Good job." "Well, I had quite some time to work on it. The ship I was on had some major problems. We had to order parts all the way from the Consulate." "The Imperials didn't have the parts?" Shtam rolled his eyes. "No. But the company would not allow us to use Imperial parts. So we waited nine months to get our requisition through for a Lanathnum drive core. When it arrived they had sent the wrong piece. I tried to modify it, but in the end it wouldn't charge properly. I couldn't certify the ship for jump, so we waited another three months. We finally got out." Kfoks eyed him intently. "What did you think of the Imperium?" "A very suspicious people. They did not trust me very far. Of course, I did not trust them either. But it gave me a chance to polish up my knowledge of ships. Once I finished the Shtelfire, I was allowed to work on other ships for the museum: Rampart 128's. Neat ships." "Yeah. I like the newer Rampart IV's and V's though." "Yes, I prefer Zhodani models though, Kia class..." "Did you ever see the Imperial Aerobatics team? The Blue Angels?" "Once, they were flying modified Cobras. Quite impressive." "They are using Viper 15-S's now. And their flight leader was one of the strangest looking beings I've ever seen: an Ael Yael or something. It had wings. I heard it was a female. I'd guess those things make pretty good pilots." "Yes, well if you or I had instincts for the air we would too. She was leader when I saw them. The name was Kittan Kboutle or something." - XXXI - "Vrrrrghsh!" grumbled Stuzzel producing a reverberating echo in the Flamboyant's officer lounge. "Jump space is the most boring purgatory I've ever been in. I think I might crawl in a low berth and sleep through it." The ponderous weight of the vargr flowed and bounced as he shifted in his chair. He yawned and belched loudly and tossed away the dogeared magazine in a flurry of colored pages. Jietlshaiepr could not read the cover of the magazine when it fluttered to the deck, her Gveug was limited and the idiom of the title made little sense when directly translated. "Fragrant White Wag" told little, the picture on the cover filled the rest: a scantily clad young female vargr, seen from behind, perched on top of a grav-bike. Her eyes rolled. "Stupid barbarian.", she thought and turned in disgust. A stinging slap ripped across her backside. She swung round furious. "You're pretty good, even if ya aien't got no tail." laughed Stuzzel. Jietlshaiepr leveled her gaze on him. Slowly, deliberately she took hold of his collar and lifted the obese vargr to within a few millimeters from the ceiling. "And your pretty disgusting mister, tail not withstanding. I may put you in one of the low berths anyway." She lowered him half a meter and dropped him. Niedrsha looked on warily. "Jiet will teach 'em who's boss around here soon." he thought. He nodded to Jietlshaiepr and spoke: "Look Stuzz, we've got eight jumps to make before we get to Zylath. I think you'd better lay off a bit if you want to get there." Stuzzel snorted, "Why should I want to get there? That's where we got trounced by the stupid human pirates." "That IS the point, Mr. Stuzzel." interrupted Kfoks. "They probably have a base there. It's our opportunity to do a little reconnaissance on them." "Stuff recon!" he snorted. "I learned plenty about 'em." "Just what did you learn, Stuzzel?" inquired Shtam. "'Nough to know I don't want to fuck wif 'em! They wiped out our whole fuckin' fleet! What good are we gonna do in one escort even if we got a Vixen around?" "Reconnaissance, you vragh brained clod," explained Tuerz as he flowed into the lounge gracefully, "is not a stand up fight. Of course the idea of subterfuge might not occur to someone whose idea of subtlety is a ton of high explosive." He carried a large thick wooden board peppered with small holes and the heads of a few nail sticking out. He wore a blue female outfit with his visible fur dyed cream. At his hip swung his prize possession: an integral laser pistol. He had relieved it from an Imperial merchant with more money than marksmanship. The pistol itself was beautiful: iridium plated with inlaid rubies and ivory. The merchant had paid a great deal for it: eight guards and his own life. Tuerz thought it a crime for such a weapon to be in the hands of someone who could barely use it. A blind vargr might value a Rembrandt, but he could never appreciate it as could one with sight. He twirled a small body pistol, "Would you all mind if I set up a bit of target practice? I've been getting soft on my practice sessions, and if I let it go much longer I'll be as bad a shot as Stuzzel is with a fusion gun." Stuzzel snorted indignantly. "In here?" asked Jietlshaiepr. "This is the longest room on the ship. I can stand on the bridge and shoot at this target." Kfoks waved at Jietlshaiepr, "Don't worry Commander. Tuerz won't damage anything. He can nail a fly at five meters. Here..." Kfoks placed a melon on his own head and stepped in front of the target board. "From the hip, Tuerz." The pistol continued to gyrate in Tuerz paw for a moment as Jietlshaiepr started to object. The body pistol barked. A wisp of smoke issued from the barrel. Kfoks pulled the melon from the crown of his head. A neat hole drilled precisely in the center. He showed it to Jietlshaiepr and then took a bite of it. "Very well. Go ahead." she sighed. "But, no more shots like that. I don't feel like taking the time to study vargr cranial anatomy just to dig out slugs." "Can I try that one on you Tuerz?" laughed Stuzzel. "Shut up or I'll put a hole in your head to equalize the vacuum." snarled Tuerz. For emphasis Tuerz swung around to face the target board. Suddenly, his chest exploded. A nail was driven into the board with deadly accuracy. Tuerz turned back while a small wisp of smoke issued from the false breasts in his disguise. "Nice shot." called Niedrsha. Jietlshaiepr sighed, "Would you Mind using a silencer?" - XXXII - Enoc E484000-0 Kfoks surveyed the Vixen's deck. All in order. She had gone through a lot before they tried to sell her. Stressed out bulkheads patched with whatever metal scraps that came to hand. She was in sorry shape yes, but she could fight at least one more battle. After all she had only been designed to go into one battle, she had exceeded that along time ago. Tuerz slipped through the airlock in female dress. His fur was dyed bright red to match the dress he wore. "Hello there." Kfoks turned, Tuerz whirled. A vargr woman stood appraising them from a corridor. She was strongly built and very attractive. The lighting shone off the orange and tan of her fur as she stood with her tail at attention with just a hint of a slight wag. Kfoks own tail twitched involuntarily. "Good evening. My name is Kfoks, Force Leader Taek Kfoks." He took her hand. "You must be Gresha. This is my lieutenant: Force Subleader Tuerz." "Just your lieutenant, Force Leader Kfoks?" asked Gresha nodding to the feminine Tuerz. "Just." Gresha stepped forward and ran a paw over the flowing synsilk of his uniform. "You were in the Uekalez weren't you?" "Yes we were. But that's a long story, and where are you from, First Lieutenant Gresha?" "All over, I was in several corsair bands at different points. Some of them got old pretty quickly. I switched around a lot. I get bored without the proper attention." Miakr watched for a moment as they stood closely, then loudly stepped into the room sighing inwardly. "Well, she was too blasted pushy anyway..." - XXXIII - "Well what do you think kid? Can you do it?" Kfoks studied Miakr's face trying to read the unfamiliar human expressions crossing it. Miakr looked back and forth from the designs to the bulk of the disassembled Tilly. "Well, it's quite a job. It'll take some time. You've got the parts, but as for labor, if you were to get this repaired professionally, I'd guess the labor alone would be about one hundred and thirty five thousand." Kfoks's tail dropped. "You'll get it." "Do you have it?" Kfoks paused. "Not yet, but soon." "You might not have to pay in cash." Miakr confided softly. This human may be more shrewd than he acts. "What exactly are you after?" "Nothing specific... yet. But you will certainly owe me a favor." "Payment like that," thought Kfoks, "is usually more expensive than the cash." - XXXIII - Welles E655632-3 "The Vixen is still with us!" announced Miakr looking into the navigation equipment. "Two more jumps left to Zylath." "Any contacts?" asked Niedrsha. "Uuuh... well we've got some neutrino emissions, I think, but..." "Here, Miakr, let me see." Miakr stood and moved away for Jietlshaiepr. "Hmm. looks like about five emission sources: three strong emitters, two small. They're at extreme range. Largest contact: one thousand tons, seven point five gigawatt reactor. The other two large contacts are four hundred tons each, nine gigawatts... must be warships. The last two are only two hundred tons, five hundred megawatts." "Viepchakl! A nuclear explosion!" The thousand tonner was hit. Picking up communications." The radio buzzed with static. "Interference from the blast." Jietlshaiepr stated tensely. "It'll clear in a moment... Identification coming up... I make the two four hundred tonners out as Imperial SDB's... The one thousand ton reads out as a type CD droyne cruiser. The two hundreds are type AD droyne free traders." Niedrsha hit the intercom, "Battle stations! All hands to battle stations! Red alert! Repeat, red alert! This is no drill!" "Static's cleared." said Jietlshaiepr forcefully. A small squeaky voice came over speaking droyne. The small creature whistled and cried shrilly. A male human voice cut in speaking english, "Attention alien vessels, that was a warning, you will surrender now or be destroyed." A female human voice announced. "This is the scout ship Spindleman from the League of Suns calling droyne vessels. We are coming to your assistance." The human male voice broke back in. "That won't help you. It will take them four hours to reach you. Surrender now, aliens, or be destroyed." The woman came back on line, "Spindleman to unidentified SDB's, you are ordered to cease fire. Shtam came over the intercom, "It has to be the pirates! But, what are they doing in system defence boats? How did they jump in system?" Niedrsha looked Jietlshaiepr in the eye, "You're in command, Jiet. We go in?" Jietlshaiepr slammed her fist into the console. "Intercept course, all ahead flank! Miakr, you'd better program the Vixen!" "I'm on it." Miakr started typing in the attack orders and target selections. "Attention, fighters, immediate launch. Kfoks, you Tuerz and Stuzzel intercept and attack pirate SDB's." Acceleration piled on the ship straining the inertial compensators. A thud ran through the ship as the Flamboyant's gig slipped into space. "Flamboyant one away." announced Kfoks. Two more shocks jolted the ship. "Flamboyant two away." called Tuerz. "Flamboyant three away." grumbled Stuzzel. "We can't take on SDB's in these fighters! It's crazy! We'll never hit 'em!" "Cut the chatter Flamboyant three." called Kfoks annoyed, "Accelerate to attack speed!" The three flew off in formation. Seconds later the Vixen confirmed that it had the correct targets and sped off hot on the tails of the fighters. "The droyne are returning fire!" shouted Jietlshaiepr. "I read one SDB has been hit twice... Blast their armor! It didn't do any thing I can read... Well, the Spindleman won't be much good, I read her out as a standard type S Scout... She's got some guts taking on two ships four times her size." "This is Flamboyant one, we will be in range in three minutes." Jietlshaiepr read off "The SDB's are firing again. Viepchakl! I hope they're still there in three minutes... The missiles were shot out of the sky but one laser hit on the cruiser... Possible loss of fuel, I read outgassing... The droyne ships can't seem to lock onto the SDB's well enough... All their shots are missing... The SDB's too maneuverable... We have to get in there fast... Time to range mark?" "Ten minutes, thirty five seconds." answered Niedrsha. Jietlshaiepr turned to the intercom, "Gunners stay sharp, range in ten minutes." She jerked to attention. "Two more contacts bearing in... One has a one point five gigawatt reactor... One hundred tons... The other... five hundred megawatts... two hundred tons... Must be a freighter... The one hundred tonner will intercept droyne in two minutes. The two hundred tonner... in twenty seven... I read the one hundred tonner out as a tech nine SDB... the two hundred tonner is... a Fanzheinz class free trader..." Jietlshaiepr turned to the communications station, "Tight beam transmit... Spindleman come in, this is the gunned escort Flamboyant, just arrived in system... come in... we are offering assistance to distressed droyne convoy... request target verification." "Spindleman to Flamboyant. Assistance accepted. What information do you require?" "Target identification, I have multiple contacts: Two droyne traders, one droyne cruiser, two four hundred ton SDB's, a one hundred ton SDB, and a Fanzheinz class free trader. Request identification of hostiles." "Flamboyant hold... have no knowledge of any SDB's in your area, must be considered hostile... Fanzheinz unknown... will attempt communication for verification... proceed with caution. Good luck. Out." "Flamboyant to Flamboyant flight leader... Kfoks, alter course to... one five dash zero niner... intercept one hundred ton SDB bearing in on convoy... identified as hostile... Over." "Flight leader to Flamboyant... Acknowledged... Target in sight.... Flight leader to two and three, arm all weapon systems. Open fire on my mark, use high explosive missiles batteries. This isn't worth a nuke." The speeding SDB bore in on the convoy not noticing its small pursuers neutrino traces. Still out of range of the droyne guns, she didn't bother to evade but bore in on an arrow straight course: nice and easy to track and lock on. "Flamboyant flight: fire!" Two missiles streaked away from the Vipers. The gig's laser lanced out unseen in the vacuum. The SDB shook under the shock of its turret ionizing under a storm of X-ray photons. One missile zeroed in closing the gap homing on the startled SDB. A brief flash lit the SDB against the stars. Hydrogen burst into the vacuum obscuring her outlines for a moment. She tumbled a moment, quickly stabilized, but the engines fired erratically and quit. Still moving under the momentum of the attitude jets, it began to tumble again slowly. Jietlshaiepr read the sensors "It's reactor is fading... looks like you blasted the fuel tanks. Good shooting." Kfoks voice beamed over the radio, "Piece of mutton, Flamboyant. She didn't even evade." "That missile hit was mine of course." sighed Tuerz, "Stupid didn't get a proper lock on a non-evading target." "How are you so sure you hit?" growled Stuzzel, "We fired at the same time." "I know it was mine because it hit." "Shut up!" barked Kfoks, "Flamboyant, what's the I.D. on the Fanzheinz?" "Spindleman to Flamboyant, Fanzheinz refuses to answer challenge. Must be considered as hostile." "We're on it." answered Kfoks. "Flamboyant flight bear two seven dash two five." Jietlshaiepr read the sensors: "One droyne trader's engines are out... the other's fuel is hit... The cruiser's engines are damaged but she's still maneuvering... One SDB lost some fuel too... The Vixen should open fire right about now..." The Vixen swooped into battle range at six G's maneuvering wildly. Missiles belched from her bay and turrets streaming out like a cloud of bats swarming from a cave. The SDB's lasers leapt out to stem the onslaught, but the defenses were swamped. The turrets of one vaporized instantly as they were lost in a flare of nuclear fire. The missile racks of the second were shaken and bent by the introduction of high explosive. The droyne cruiser's lasers swept out seeking the enemy. Missiles flew past as the SDB's evaded, but the lasers struck home leaving the first SDB's missile racks all but smashed. The pirates returned fire at the new arrived menace. Lasers and missiles zeroed in on the twisting Vixen. Robots however do not appreciate near misses or close calls. The engines of destruction swept on impotently. Another salvo of missiles blazed forth at the pirate SDB's. The ships turned to flee as they streamed in like sharks to a kill. The monstrous bulk of the missiles flew on into the vacuum, save the best for last. The Vixen's nukes slammed into the fleeing pirate. Her turrets became slag as they were irradiated, buckling armor plates around them. Simultaneously the Fanzheinz class free trader turned and ran on the same heading. Kfoks voice came over the communicator, "Flamboyant flight to Flamboyant. Target vessel now running. Request permission to pursue." "Negative, flight leader." answered Jietlshaiepr. "They are on a rendezvous course with enemy SDB's. Not even the Vixen can do much against their armor. Get back here, the droyne may require assistance." "The pirates are still firing at the droyne convoy." She continued, "Why? Don't they know they've lost them? They've disabled the second trader's engines and I can't tell what they did to the cruiser." The Vixen flew on in hot pursuit loosing missiles as she ran. The missiles crashed through the pirate's armor silencing the last of their guns. "Miakr, call back the Vixen, their on the run and she can't seem to disable them." "Right, here she comes. Good girl! She chased 'em off." Jietlshaiepr punched the radio, "Flamboyant to droyne convoy... Repeat, Flamboyant to droyne convoy, do you require assistance?... Droyne convoy come..." A tiny voice broke through a wave of static, "This cruiser Chekbas droyne is. All ships droyne damaged been have. Drone medic of Trader Kivas killed been has. Wounded aboard are. Medic aboard have you?" "Viepchakl," she thought, "how much do I really know about droyne anatomy?" "Affirmative, we have a doctor aboard. I may require assistance with droyne physiology. Do you require assistance with damage control?" "Cruiser Chekbas: maneuver drive damaged, two laser batteries destroyed. Trader Kivas: computer destroyed, maneuver drive damaged. Trader Shoolist: hold destroyed, maneuver drive damage repair complete. Streamlining trader's both destroyed." "Acknowledged. We will aide the Kivas. Estimate rendezvous and docking in... two minutes. Be prepa..." "Oh, Shiviepchakl..." The neutrino detector was going mad. Twelve readings of nine gigawatts, one reading of six hundred. Radar crosscheck... Confirmed... Targets closing... Twelve four hundred ton SDB's... One forty thousand ton ship of the line.... @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ AND YOU KNOW SOMETHING'S HAPPENING, BUT YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT IT IS. DO YOU, MR. JONES? by Scott Kellogg - I - You walk into the room like a camel and you frown. You put your eyes in your pocket, and your nose on the ground. There ought to be a law against you comin' 'round You should be made to wear ear phones. And you know something's happening, but you don't know what it is. Do you Mr. Jones? "Ballad of a thin man" -Bob Dylan Silence... Silence... I'm lying in a vast black void. How long have I been here? Days?... Years?... Millennia?... Hmm. That's a problem. I believe I am Doctor Mako Malenkoviepr. Well... I was the last time I checked. Or am I? Or AM I? Do I really exist? Does anything exist? Or is it all an illusion in my mind? I wonder if I could be an illusion in someone else's mind?... So many questions... No answers... Does it matter? Even if it does matter, does it matter that it matters? All I can really say is: apparently, I am. AAARRRRRR!! WHOAAAAH! HEY! That's cold! What's going on? Brrr!... It's gone now... What was that? Yes, I am. And there's no apparently about it. But, who is it that says I am? In other words, who am I? Hmmm. Oh yes, I think I know... Where am I. Can't see a thing. Total blackness. But I'm thinking a lot clearer now: I know who I am anyway... That's a start. I'm lying on something. I can feel a floor. "Ok, let's stand up doctor." Well, I can hear my voice any way.... Try to stand. Muscles are slow. Ouch. Stiff too. But, now that I'm standing, where am I? I still can't see. A ring of luminous fog suddenly glowed around the doctor's legs. Slowly, as though it were wavelets spreading out from a stone dropped in a pond, the fog spread out slowly illuminating a huge endless sea of thigh deep fog. A buzzing sound swept in from behind the him. He whirled to face it. But as he turned it was fading off in the distance. Another flew in from overhead but was off to the horizon before he saw it. A third swept in. He turned to face it and saw a vague shape headed straight for his face. He dropped to the ground, covering his head, shutting his eyes tight. Hey, I'm in a house! A comfortable study spread around Dr. Malenkoviepr. Wood paneling, a warm oil lamp, a large wooden desk, huge bookshelves, hundreds of books. And what books! I remember these... Here are my old text books on telepathy... awareness... physics... psychology... sophontology... Wow, there's all my old children's books! 'Burt Dow Deep Sea Fisherman', 'How and Why Book of Starships' 'Millions of Cats', 'Vlezhdames and the Giant Peach'. I haven't seen these in years! He picked up a book: Oh yes, Burt Dow and Giggling Gull in the Idely Tidely... I was about five years old. Here's one I don't remember. What is this? A red hologram album. Baby pictures of me. Me at ten years old. Hey there's Chewersta! I wonder what ever happened to her? I haven't heard from her since I was nineteen... Hey! what's this? A hologram of us in the woods? That's not possible... There weren't any cameras around there... Now this is getting ridiculous... Where did this hologram of us come from?... The buzzing swept in at the open window. Through the window was the sea of fog sweeping out to the horizon. Out of the black sky swept long fingerlike tendrils of fog. Reaching, grasping, probing. They were almost to the house. Reaching out to grab... Mako slammed the window. Outside, the silence was broken by a huge gust of wind as the tendrils hit the house. Whistling and howling sounded all around. The other window's in the house were all Wide open. Got to move fast. Close all the windows! Move. Quickly, he ran into the next room. The fingers were sweeping up to the window. Slam the window! Lock it! Next room! Again the probing tendrils were almost inside when Mako slid the lock home. Mako flew about the house slamming windows and shooting the bolts of the locks. The tendrils flew to one window and the next, and the next, and the next, and the next... Down to the first floor, to the large window next to the door, and the kitchen, and the den, and... Just how many windows are there in this flaming house? He ran to the last window and slammed it down. The glass rattled as he shot the bolt. The wind battered impotently outside the windows. Ha! They're all locked! You can't get in! Wait... I didn't lock the window in the study! Up the stairs and on the right! Run! Go! Go! GO! Into the study! Suddenly, the window burst open. Streamers of fog shot into the room and flew about like confused birds. Slam the window and lock it! As the lock slid in place, the fog tendrils faded and disappeared. Safe... Silence... Mako slid to the floor, tired, but safe for the moment. Slowly, a book began to pull itself off the shelf. A telepathy text book opened by itself and it's pages began to flip. He stared at the book as he lay on the floor."WHO ARE YOU!?!" More pages began to flip. Malenkoviepr jumped up, grabbed the book and put it back on the shelf. Slowly, a physics text came off the shelf, and began to read itself. Contemptuously, he put that one back too. Slowly, several more books started abandoning the shelves and reading themselves. Mako collected them, and shoved them back. A torrent of books flew off the shelves and began to flip their pages. Angrily, Malenkoviepr grabbed for them, but as one went back another came out... And another... And another... A mad contest of book pushing developed. Books flying, pages flipping. Shelves revolting. Someone was laughing. Malenkoviepr shoved the last book on the shelf back. He growled angrily at the thought that someone was enjoying this somehow. One last book lay on the desk. The red hologram album. Slowly, it opened itself. Fury enveloped Malenkoviepr. He turned to grab the book. Suddenly, he was walking in glue. Paralyzed, watching the nightmare world around him. He watched as the book slowly proceeded to show his life story in holograms. Born to a low, low station... Baby pictures... First teeth... First steps... Psi testing... First time meeting a Droyne... First school... Becoming an Intendant... Living with the Droyne... First girl friend... First lover... College... Becoming a Droyne... Becoming a Noble... Joining SORAG... First assignment... Second assignment... The ancient base... The ancient warriors... Their decision... Orders... Counter Orders... The destruction of the base... The explosion... The next page appeared black. The page appeared to split into two opening doors. On the page, Dr. Mako Malenkoviepr, Honorary Droyne marched into his superior's office. The letter in his hand addressed: "Lieutenant Baremkatlasche'. Personal.": The resignation. He paced angrily about the office shouting at Baremkatlasche'. The fool didn't understand the Droyne way, never would. He could not expect Malenkoviepr to prevent them from being what they are. You can not make iridium into tin. You can not make night into day. But the idiot didn't understand. Wouldn't even try to understand. I resign. I will not be pushed around any more. I refuse to go against what I know is right. Science is to improve life, not destroy it. Baremkatlasche's goals are not improvement, but enslavement. Any work for SORAG will be subverted. I resign! Doctor Mako Malenkoviepr slammed his the envelope onto Baremkatlasche's desk with all his psionically enhanced strength. A mug on the desk flew up a meter in the air fell back and shattered. The page went black again. Suddenly, the hologram split open again. Malenkoviepr marched into Baremkatlasche's office a second time. A second time, he told his superior off. A second mug smashed. I resign! A third time the hologram replayed itself. A third mug smashed. I resign!! A Forth... I resign!!! Fifth... I Resign!!!! I RESIGN!!!!! Malenkoviepr screamed out in fury. He jumped to the desk where the album laid. Grabbed it. Slammed it back into the book shelf, and shouted out in psionic fury and hate, "I RESIGN!!!!!" A psionic right cross whipped out into the blackness. Suddenly, Malenkoviepr was back drifting in the black void. But I felt the punch connect... - II - The Interrogator shook her dark hair from her shoulders. "The subject has exceptional psionic strength and determination." "How long will it take?" "Unknown, I will have to make some further tests. But a direct attack is not indicated here: his defenses are too well laid." - III - Leave your cares behind. Come with us and find the pleasures of the journey to the center of the mind. Come along if you care Come along if you dare Take a ride to the land inside of your mind. Beyond the seas of thought, beyond the realm of what's across the streams of hopes and dreams where things are really hot. -The Amboy Dukes: Journey to the Center of the Mind Malenkoviepr bounced down the beach at top speed. The grav harness absorbed most of his weight, but still gravity dragged at him, keeping him grounded where evolution had put him. Wind gusted and he threw wide his metal wings. He rose over the windswept seas of Tesser. Tesser. Land of the Droyne. Home. His silver wings tugged pleasantly at his muscles as he pulled himself aloft. The winds were his. He rose higher seeking out the updrafts as he tacked up wind. The rolling sea below him shouted a challenge up to him and he dove to combat. Screaming down over the waves he dipped and rolled over the blue foam. The wave tips set up a deadly obstacle course that he swept through with ease. One dipped wing tip and he would drown: no one can swim with five meters of wing span strapped on his arms. Briefly he thought of the greater ease of regulation grav belts, but no grav belt gave the user actual flight. Altitude must be fought for. Flight is not mere movement while aloft but a sonnet of motion. Wings lend grace, poise, flow. The Droyne, his adopted people disdained grav belts. Even Mako's artificial wings seemed little better than crutches compared with wings of flesh, bone and sinue. But even the Droyne were not the captains of the air. Their stubby wings were almost vestigial. Evolution had turned them away from the air. Many of them could not fly at all. Of all intelligent creatures yet found, only one race truly lived in the air. The two Ael Yaels flew circled overhead. They soared on the blustery sea winds of Tesser. Bat like wings stretched five meters in wing span gave them the edge over the tiny wings of the Droyne. Their golden skin flashed in the light of Tesser's sun as Mako rose on flashing wings to join them. The two creatures were truly alien in flesh and mind. They evolved in a totally different ecological niche from Humans. Aerial carnivores, nearly solitary creatures. Far from Humans and Droyne. For example they had never developed a thing called a government. Trying to explain a nation to them was like explaining sexual reproduction to an amoeba. They had the one system of running their planet no Human world ever could even attempt: anarchy. (That which governs best, governs least.) Thus, they could safely be invited into the Consulate, despite the fact that they were Imperial citizens, For to them there was no great difference between one group of humans and another. Humans all acted the same to them. In a flash the two came together and rose almost vertically in an ascending corkscrew, describing by their motion a double helix. Slowly they reached for each others talons. As they touched and grasped each other, they folded back their wings and stalled. They fell in a double hammerhead that sent them plunging down. Down toward the waves, they tumbled out of control clinging to each other. Slowly, with great reluctance they released the others talons and pulled out of the roaring dive and sped off with a flash of golden wings in close formation. Mako banked and flipped just for the sheer joy of it. He leapt from wind to wind as an acrobat of the sky. The winds gave a thunderous applause as he flipped over into a showman's outside loop coming out in a hammer head of his own. "CH-CH-CH-CH-CH-CH!" Kittan's warning crossed languages and jolted him back to awareness of their mission. Four frigate birds flew in towards the emerging baby sea turtles. Odd, how the ancients had brought both species this far from Earth. Mako rolled and dove in hot pursuit. Hloch made the first pass at the flock of attackers. The carnivore's talons flashed, striking one from the air. The other three cried out in surprise and banked away. Hloch dropped down and caught his prey as it fell and sunk his teeth in. Kittan veered off after one of the frightened hunters. The frigate bird swooped avoiding her claws but not quick enough to avoid her powerful tail. The crushing blow nearly severed the creatures wings and it went plummeting to the ground. She dove and caught the falling victim. Mako came into the fray slower than the others as the remaining two frigate birds realizing they weren't pursued closed back on the helpless turtles struggling across the sand. Mako had no claws or tail but simply battered both with his wings, blasting them from the air. The sea turtles crawled on to the open ocean and safety as the three scientists provided their air cover. On the ground the two Aels exchanged their catches and proceeded to tear into the carcasses with vigor, feasting hungrily on the bloodied birds. Mako swung in and landed close by. "Good hunting, Mako!" called Hloch. The creature leapt to retrieve one of the birds Mako had killed. Hloch washed it briefly in a tidal pool and held it out to Mako as he unstrapped his arms from his silvery wings. It was a mess: wing and neck broken, bleeding from the eyes. Mako grimaced at the sight of it as the alien scientist held it, his face covered in the blood of his mate's kill. He seemed puzzled. Mako glanced into the Ael's mind. "Why does this human not take his own catch? Does he intend to waste it?" At last Kittan spoke up. "You two have been studying each other for some time now. Hloch, haven't you seen humans don't like blood? And you Mako, do you not see that we never hunt for sport?" For a moment they stood watching each other, then Mako took the carcass and carefully broke off it's wing. The rest he presented to Kittan who bowed her thanks and shredded the bird's remains. The other bird was presented to Hloch. He examined the wing he still held and attempted to gnaw it. It was tough for his omnivorous teeth to pick apart raw, as the Ael Yaels did, but it was for appearances anyway. Mako thought to himself, "Well, you were the one who wanted to study avian sophonts weren't you?" - IV - "Well?" The Interrogator nodded, "The subject is responding to the new direction of attack." "Turn up the pressure. We need him." - V - Come along if you care Come along if you dare Take a ride to the land inside of your mind. But please realize, you'll probably be surprised. For it's a land unknown to man where fantasy is fact. So if you can, please understand: You might not come back. -The Amboy Dukes: Journey to the Center of the Mind Malenkoviepr was alone on the beach. A dark haired frigate bird was sweeping in towards the crawling baby sea turtles. The gauss rifle came into his arms. Must protect the turtles! He opened up the gauss rifle on full automatic. Ten rounds of gauss needles went into the bird at hypersonic velocity. Red mist came down. Tiny red fragments hit the ground. A great whirling noise came up behind him. Slowly he turned and saw a great dark cloud. The cloud whirred and flowed as it came. A huge cloud looking like a flowing amoeba. It began to resolve itself into components. Hundreds upon thousands of frigate birds. Malenkoviepr grabbed a mounted VRF gauss gun. The air thundered with their wings as they came. The gauss gun vomited steel into the cloud. Hundreds dropped. With their eyes open... They kept coming. The gauss gun rattled and thundered. The cloud turned from black to red. Still they came. One hundred meters... One hundred fell... Ninety meters... Five hundred fell... Seventy meters... Five thousand fall... Fifty meters... Fifty thousand fell... Forty meters... One million... Five million... Ten million... Fifty million... All with their eyes open... The sky runs red with blood and feathers... Death wears a hat and carries a VRF gauss gun... The eyes still stare... Millions of dead eyes looked up from the sand. The turtles crawl on towards the sea and safety... "The waves are retreating... The tide's going out... They'll never reach it..." The sky was a bone white sclera, the setting sun, an iris and pupil of a giant piercing blue eye. Slowly, the pupil expanded and swallowed the sky. Mako kicked a dead frigate bird splattering the sand black. Slowly, it began to ooze a vile smelling black liquid onto the sand. The blackness flowed across the sand to another frigate bird corpse. The second began to flow, and slowly it spread. The carcasses becoming gaunt as their blackness flowed freely from them. A red orange glow came from behind Mako. Slowly, he turned to look. Behind him the beach was littered with birds. It seemed to glow red all around him. He was looking into the eyes of a dead bird. It was gutted by a gauss needle and was bleeding black. The eyes caught the reflection of the rising reddish moon. It hung on the horizon and seemed to grow deeper and deeper red. As the moon glowed so did the reflection in the eyes of the carcasses on the beach. The glow waxed as the sun waned. Brighter and brighter and colder and colder, the eyes glowed like tiny cigarettes, flaming... staring... The carcasses melted slowly and flowed across the sand. All the while, the eyes stayed focused on Malenkoviepr. The blackness began to flow together. The slime climbed onto itself mounting and molding itself as it flowed together with its flaming red eyes staring. A hideous parody of human legs began to form as the black ooze lumped together. The blackness seeped up the legs and began to form a torso. Higher and higher it rose. Soon it was two meters tall and still growing. Distorted faces appeared in the mire of the forming thing. Slowly, the thing formed itself into a grotesquely fat and flabby torso. A lump of a faceless head came into being. Shoulder stumps began to shape themselves and then lengthen into arms. Revolted, Mako grabbed the VRF gauss gun, swivelled it on its mount and fired straight into its quivering flab of a belly. The gauss needles ripped open the black ooze, spattering it like pudding. The edges of the hole waved back like lips. Jagged teeth appeared in the gaping hole and the mouth shut itself with a snap erasing any trace that it ever had been there. Mako pulled the trigger for another blast. Nothing happened. Quickly he rechecked the gun. All in order? Then fire! The gun kicked in its mount. The projectiles flew into the oozing black form, splattering the black ichor. The gun began to thump. Mako glanced down at the gun and back at the black figure. The gun was firing sloppy black lumps of filth into the thing. The globules were slamming into the blob, adding to its loathsome mass. Quickly, Mako released the trigger. The gun continued to fire. The thing was growing. He tried to turn the gun away from the thing. The mount was frozen. He hammered on it with his fists. The gun continued to chug out the lumps of black ichor. It was growing. Five meters tall and growing. It towered into the darkening sky, a quivering slime of a human blob. The thing flowed and shuddered as the slime jetted from the VRF gauss gun into its abhorrent form adding to its bulk as it grew... topping ten meters and still growing. It leaned the lump of its head back. A cavernous, blood red maw opened up and it let out a gurgling, strangling roar. A cloud of stench billowed from its gaping mouth like the rotting of an open grave, while black ichor dripped onto its lump of a torso. The ichor flowed across the thing and reformed as part of its huge frame: twelve meters and climbing. The head came forward and glowered at Mako with a blind face. Slowly, two pits formed above the sealed gape of the mouth. The pits began to get covered over as eyes began to form. Mako backed away in horror from the forming beast, watching as the pits molded closed lids over the rapidly growing eyes. He turned and ran as the thing towered past fifteen meters of loathsome flabby filth. The darkness shrouded the beach with a purple sky while the blood red moon stared at the scene. Mako ran across the sand to the dunes with his pulse pounding in his ears. Slick, spiky dune grass slashed at his clothes as he ran over the sand shredding the fabric like razors. Through the torn cloth, the blades sliced at his flesh. His skin ran wet with sweat and blood. He reached the foot of the first dune and climbed up the steep sand pile on all fours. The sand bit at the cuts on his hands as though the skin was being peeled away from his bones layer by layer. He topped the dune and glanced back. A hundred meters away, the thing's eye lids opened. Inside the eye was gloss black. Dimly, a tiny red glow pulsed inside the pit of the eyes. It glowed dimly and then faded to blackness, then again it began to glow a little brighter than before. Again it faded away. More brightly, the eye pulsed like a beacon. It glowed and flickered like a bright flame caught in a wind. Then the eyes lit up brightly in a flaming blood red. Mako fled across the dune and into a dead forest. The leafless trees were sparse and monstrous while the blood moon stared down at him. In the distance a thunderous sucking sounded like a foot being pulled from a mire. Then a pile driver came down and smashed the ground. The thing had begun to walk. Mako ran under the sparse cover of the dead trees, the sucking pile driver still coming: battering its way after him. He ran and ran through the wasteland forest. Every few meters a tree blocked his path and he narrowly avoided hitting them as he ran through the darkness. The sucking pile drivers came closer as he ran. Quickly, he changed course in hope the thing would follow the straight line he'd been going on. For a moment he couldn't tell where the thing was going it seemed to hesitate and then strike after him again following closely. The sky light up with the red searchlights of its eyes as it sought him. A huge ripping sound came as trees began to be torn from their roots as it passed through. The stench of its breath came down and hugged the ground like a fog. Suddenly, it was in front of Mako. The red eyes towered over the trees glowering at him. His heart in his mouth, Mako skidded to a stop. He turned and jumped... He sailed over the trees and into the night sky. The trees reached out their branches after him, but he flew over them. Slowly, he reached the top of his an and began to come down. He clawed at the wind, but to no avail. Down he came through the slicing branches of the dead trees. He landed in a thigh deep fog. The ground squished under his feet as he skidded to a stop. Again, he leapt into the air and safety. "A few more jumps like this and that thing will Never find me..." The prodigious leaps carried him fifty meters at a time. Soon, he was out of the forest and on a fog covered plain. His heart soaring as he left the grotesque abhorrence far behind, sucking and roaring impotently after him. "So long sucker!" he called after it as he reached the top of an arc. Slowly, he descended to the fog and sank in thigh deep before touching the wet sloppy ground. The mud grabbed at his feet pulling him down. He was up to his calves and still going down. He kicked at the muck as he sank deeper. It flowed up his legs and over his abdomen. He grabbed for the plain grass growing in the mud, but it tore from its roots leaving nothing to pull on. He sank up to his chest in bog stench with only his arms and head above the stinking ooze. Red searchlights swept the horizon as the thing followed his path. Closer and closer it came. Mako huddled down in the fog trying to hide, but the fog was thinning rapidly at the thing's approach. He could hear its sloppy pounding footsteps as it came on. Mako struggled desperately in the mire, grabbing for anything to pull him out; but nothing came to hand and the mud was too thick to swim and too liquid to support him. The thing reached the edge of the bog for it's pounding steps turned ponderously to sloppy sucking sounds. It gurgled and howled its triumph. The red eyes stared at him as he struggled in the mire, illuminated in the beam of the blood red search lights. "CH-CH-CH-CH-CH-CH-CH-CH-CH!!!!!" sounded from the sky as a whirling winged form dove from the red moon in the sky. Mako barely recognized the Ael Yael before Hloch's talons sunk into his shoulders and began beating wings over his head trying to lift the trapped scientist. Agonizingly, millimeter by millimeter Mako began to rise from the slime. Suddenly, the thing saw its caught prey escaping and screamed in a horrible high pitched whistle. It began pounding across the bog sinking up to its knees in the muck. Hloch pulled and strained against the suction of the bog as it pulled at Mako. The thing was upon them. It screamed a gurgling laugh and swatted the Ael Yael scientist to the ground. Hloch smashed into the muck with his wings crushed. He did not move. It reached for Malenkoviepr. Outstretched, barrel thick fingers stuck into the bog around him like a cage. Over him the hand of death closed in a fist blotting out the skies. The ichor flowed over his body and up his neck. It was cold as a winter slaughter house ripping the warmth from him as it flowed up his neck and over his face. He clamped his mouth tight but it crept up his nose and into his throat slowly, agonizingly filling his mouth and lungs. Mako suffocated as the slime oozed over him. The universe faded into blackness as Mako drowned in the filth. - VI - I'm so tired I haven't slept a wink I'm so tired My mind is on the blink "I'm So Tired" -The Beatles Hmmmmmmmmmmm? Oh... Well maybe... I'm tired... Look, I'm reeeally tired... And anyway, I'm dead... You shouldn't be bothering me when I just died... Why do you ask me all these questions?... What's that? Oh... I've seen one before... Ancients you say?... Oh, I know. It's a disintegrator. How's it work? Oh, don't worry about that some of my best friends don't know how they work... It's reeeally quite neat. Lllllike a laser... sort of... but the particles it fires - sim- stimulated emission - radiation are NOooooooooOT photons... Know- what-I-mean? Oh, wellll... just as photons int... inter... in-ter-react with e-lec-trons and pro-tons... the particles from the disint... well instead of exciting the e-lec-trons and heating the atom up... well these particles are... the particular elem... (excuse me) elements of the nuclear... BONDing forces. Yeah, you perturb those and you've got ONE shaky little nucleus! It falls apart... POOF! POP!... goes the weasel! What do you mean 'How does it wor... work'? I just TOLD you... OHHHhhh!... How... do YOU work... it... Well... you... sho... shou... Should... ask your... quest... questions... more... precisely. You see... you see... You... Can't... work it... It... It... It's... Tel... Tel... Tele... Tell me you're coming... back to me! You gotta... tell me... Oh... you... don't... like... my... singing...? - VII - Who's arguing? Shhh! Arguing... I'm dead you shouldn't argue in front of dead people... Now, you listen to what she says... She's right, I'm tooooOOO tired... And my head hurts... I wanna aspirin... So this is what it's like being dead... Who'd have thought it would be so dry... I wanna drink... I don't like this being dead... I've had much more pleasant petite mortes than this one I can tell you that... - VIII - Hmmm? Oh, artifacts... yeah, there were artifacts there... At Enoc there was this greaat bIg crystal... You didn't get it? No... No... No... You see Drert took it... Who's Drert? Gunner, he manned the turret on my ship... Where IS my ship? Don't YOU know? They're pretty cool folks, I wonder where they went?... Oh well, the crystal did some WeirD things let-me-tell-you. It GLOWED. It zapped Drert but GOOD! He got some amazing psi power from it... Oh, he teleported and stuff and he healed Niedrsha... Him? Oh, the pilot... It did something to his mind though... Drert's mind that is... You know it made Jietlshaiepr a telepath too... - IX - Truth drugs... Memory drugs... Hallucinogens... Probing... Psi-Dampers... Sensory deprivation... Truth drugs... Memory drugs... Hallucinogens... Psi-Dampers... Probing... Sensory deprivation... Truth drugs... Memory drugs... Probing... Psi-Dampers... Sensory deprivation... Hallucinogens... - X - The Interrogator sat perfectly still, "The subject is recovering rapidly from the interrogation. He came very close to not reviving, though he has a remarkable capacity to regenerate himself." "How long before we can continue?" She considered it, "Uncertain, at minimum: five hours." "That quickly?" "The subject has proved exceedingly strong. If interrogation begins before five hours he will die before giving any information. After five hours wait, he would merely be irrevocably damaged." - XI - Bend me, shape me, any way you want me. You got the power To turn on the light. -"Bend Me, Shape Me" - The American Breed ...The blackness of the bog was tinged with pale violet iridescence as Mako felt his way along through the darkness. Branches reached out overhead as the trees raked the sky with their leafless bony limbs. A moon peered down: a red eye with a black pupil studying the silent wilderness. Fog rolled about like a hungry creature draining the warmth of it's victims. Mako froze as a lone howl sounded far off behind him. He glanced around him seeing only a few meters in any direction as the fog rolled seeking warmth. A second howl sounded from the opposite direction. Malenkoviepr ran perpendicular to the line described by the two howling things. A few steps and his left foot sunk into the mire, calf deep. He stumbled, but rolled out onto the surface grasping the gnarled roots of a nearby tree. Carefully, he pulled himself up to stand on the roots when they resolved into bony fingers clawing into the bog. The bark of the tree seemed to have faces inside it. Tortured faces with mouths agape in silent screams. Mako began to slog through the bog when a third howl sounded: still far off, but closing. He sank lower, the bog up to his knees now, but still manageable as the murk flowed around him. A ghostly white shape hung from the ghastly trees. It swung silently he watched it. Slowly, the fog separated, revealing the shape had wings. Hloch hung curled in a ball, wrapped in a spider's web. He was cocooned by something. It was difficult to make out the Ael Yael's silhouette, the left wing's humerus and wrist were bent at ugly angles, while the right appeared dislocated. With fear rising in his throat, Mako stared at the thing before him swinging slowly in the bone chilling air of the bog. Slowly, it moved and looked at him. "...Help me..." Mako jumped into action pulling the cocoon out of the giant web with enormous strength. Quickly, he began ripping apart the venomous gossamer coffin. "...Thought you were dead..." managed the wounded scientist. "That thing that swatted me..." "Viepchaklva, if I understand it, but this is a dream." answered Malenkoviepr as he cleaned away the entangling web from the creature's arms and legs. "...A dream... a Nightmare... Some one's been questioning me... Then the nightmares come..." "You've been questioned? What about?" "...Imperial defenses... research... the ancients... I couldn't help but tell them... Truth drugs... sensory deprivation..." "Who interrogated you?" "Don't know... never saw them..." "Somebody is very curious about you and me..." "Did they interrogate you too?" "Yes." "What about?" "The ancients mostly. A lot of questions." Slowly, the bog faded around them, and they were alone in blackness. The Ael looked at him, "What do they want to know? Maybe we can figure out what they're up to." "Identification of certain artifacts, information about the theories behind them." "What kind of artifacts?" asked Hloch in a strange voice. "Ancient... ...Well, I'm not really sure..." Hloch's voice grew strange: less shrill and more husky, "You saw them, didn't you?" A Siren went off in Malenkoviepr's head, "Well, yes..." "Then, what were they?" "Hloch, are you all right? You sound very strange..." "What do you mean strange...?" he asked defensively, his voice different now... almost human. "Who ARE you?!" growled Malenkoviepr. The creature was taken aback, "I am Dr. Hloch of the planet Ael Yael." "Oh, indeed? I thought your planet was Jaeyelya." The creature stared at him blankly. "Tell me," continued Malenkoviepr, "you're a physicist, what is the equation of mass-energy equivalence?" The creature hesitated, "...E equals MC squared." "What do the terms mean?" The creature stared, desperately groping for an answer. "What are you driving at?" "What is the definition of kinetic energy? That's an easier question." "Now see here, you've got to help me..." cried the creature. "I didn't think you could answer it. You are not who you pretend to be." Malenkoviepr and he turned to walk away. "Come back! Come back! I can explain everything!" The thing hung suspended by threads as a grotesque marionette jerking mechanically to the commands of someone unseen, while screaming in a human voice. - XII - What's all these crazy questions you asking me? This is the craziest party that could ever be, Don't turn on the light's cause I don't wanna see. Mamma told me not to come. Mamma told me not to come. That aien't the way to have fun! No! Uh-uh! -"Mamma Told Me (not to come)" -Three Dog Night Mako stood in the center of a raucous party holding a glass of champagne. Sophonts of all kinds laughed hysterically and did very bizarre things while loud, insane music rippled forth. Three Vargr females in tie-dyed purple paisley mini-skirts were Zero-G-Go-Go dancing in large cages. Their eyes threw out a bizarre kaleidoscope of colors. Seven humans were running in random directions carrying fire extinguishers and blasting each other with them amid peals of laughter. A large male Vargr was pulling oranges one by one, from thin air, out of his left ear juggling them and tossing them to a group of Droyne who were passing them from one to another and building a towering pyramid with them. A pretty, young Aslan female in a feathered mask walked through the room carrying a small wheel and kissing everyone. A huge obese woman was standing on a table, balancing on one leg and crying rhinestones, while a man in an indescribable hat asked her riddles. Hloch was standing on Kittan's shoulders. Kittan was going through a book, tearing out pages and handing them up to Hloch. Hloch in turn handed folded them into small paper airplanes and threw them to a young but very large male Aslan wearing a Darrian Naval uniform. The young Aslan ensign wore the circled eye insignia of the Darrian Naval Intelligence corps. "Ah, Hloch, through hanging by someone's thread?" asked Malenkoviepr. "Humans make lousy puppeteers!" laughed Kittan delightedly. "Yes, I haven't been myself lately but I'm alright now!" leered Hloch as he swayed precariously on Kittan's shoulders. "I can only reach for who I have been, since not me." A squadron of colorful crystalline insects flew overhead in diamond formation. They executed a tight roll and changed into a deck of cards. "This party is pretty mindblowing! Eh, Mako?" chirped Hloch. "Out of sight!" "Out of mind!" cried Malenkoviepr. "This is a dreamy party!" "Who ever's in charge of reality seems to have the day off..." called the Aslan officer, refilling Mako's glass with champagne. "Yes," agreed Mako, "I'm in charge at the moment." The pretty Aslan female in the mask attached herself to the ensign's arm, and turned to Mako, "Excuse me, have you seen a man named Duran Durant?" she asked softly. "Achrrr!" cried Kittan in surprise. "Dr. Malenkoviepr, I should introduce you." She gestured the Aslan officer, "This is Ensign Zdeldi of the Darrian Confederation, and his companion: Surrealni." "Enchanted!" grinned Surrealni, then she slowly began do disappear, from the tip of her tail up to her face, until only her grin was left behind. "Pleased to meet you." smiled Zdeldi extending his hand above his head in a very non Aslan way. "And, what do you do?" Malenkoviepr gave him a high five, "Nearly the same as you do, but I've resigned." "Oh really? Why?" Mako smiled, and drew forth an holocrystal from his breast pocket and put it back. "I had my reasons... some plans..." Zdeldi drew him aside, "Like to share your reasons?" "Share?" he asked incredulously. "In a manner of speaking. There are other things to be shared in such arrangements." "I am intrigued. Shall we go?" - XIII - The Interrogator looked up, "I thought you wanted to question him about the ancient artifacts we possess." "I do. But if we let this proceed, we can find out how corruptible he is... THAT we can use..." - XIV - If you think that I don't know about the little tricks you've played, And never see you when you deliberately put things in my way. Here's a poke at you. You're gonna choke on it too. You're gonna loose that smile. Because all the while, I can see for miles and miles and miles and miles and miles... "I Can See For Miles" -The Who The gambling table was clear as Malenkoviepr and Zdeldi faced each other. Mako dealt five cards each. Zdeldi considered them carefully and handed back two. Zdeldi spoke in a strange voice, "Dr. Malenkoviepr, just what sort of deal were you planning on?" Mako shuffled and handed him back his cards. "No set plan just yet. I am merely interested in finding out what You have to offer." The Aslan regarded his cards, "Selling to the highest bidder?" Mako picked up his cards and studied them a moment and exchanged one from the deck, "Now, now, you are putting words in my mouth..." "Or thoughts in your head..." smiled Zdeldi, "Go fish." Mako eyed his cards and pulled three from the deck, "Yes, just possibly, but then again, it might be the other way around." He placed a card face down on the table announcing, "King's X." Zdeldi's eyebrows went up in a most human surprise, he examined his cards and drew one from the deck. "Well, what about putting credit in your pocket... Hit me." Mako took a card from the deck without looking, "Would you mind being more specific?" Zdeldi's voice was quite human, "I want that crystal. I'll pay for it... I'll stay." Mako dropped a card on the table, "What's so valuable about this holocrystal?" Zdeldi took the bait, "I want anything you have to sell. Therefore, I want that crystal." Mako put all his cards down except for one. "Uno." Zdeldi rearranged his cards quickly and discarded three, "The Consulate can't offer you what we can... Box cars" "You want me to sell out the Consulate." "Has the Consulate treated you so well?" asked Zdeldi, "Not from the looks of things." "Perhaps, but they are my people." Mako looked up at the ceiling and threw his legs up on the table. "So, when did YOU sell out the Consulate?" Zdeldi froze. The entire dream world stopped mid sentence. Silence. Malenkoviepr glared through the ceiling to the outside universe. He addressed the crazy world and its makers. "You sold out the Consulate, didn't you? What did they offer you? What do you expect? Did you get it?" "Or is someone holding your leash as we speak?" He glared at the prop of a world around him, and slammed his last card, the twenty one of clubs down on the table. "This round," he announced, "I win." @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ DOWN THE WELLES or Deep in a hole Scott Kellogg - I - Welles E655632-3 Twelve System Defence Boats and an unidentified forty thousand ton ship of the line bore in on the tiny gathering of starships. The Flamboyant's radio crackled: a woman's voice, "This is Lt. Dragoon of the League of Suns Navy aboard the scout ship Spindleman. For the duration of this emergency I am proclaiming martial law and assuming command of all vessels by the authority of the League of Suns. All vessels will report their status or be judged hostile." Jietlshaiepr almost choked, "This is Lieutenant Jietlshaiepr aboard the Gunned Escort Flamboyant out of the Zhodani Consulate. Lieutenant, you're out of your sphere of influence. This is a free and independent system." Lt. Dragoon snarled, "Welles has requested the League's protection, and THAT makes it our sphere, Zho." A Droyne chirped in, "This the trader Shoolist is, maneuverable, jump fuel have lost. Re-enter atmosphere impossible streamlining destroyed." "This trader Kivas, power plant damaged. Computer destroyed. Wounded aboard. Drone dead. Rendezvous Flamboyant with waiting." "Cruiser Chekbas here, hull by nuclear blast irradiated, maneuver drives damaged, down to two point one G, two laser batteries out of action, loss of some jump fuel. Cutter undamaged and deployed." Jietlshaiepr sighed in disgust as the Droyne surrendered the authority of their vessels. "This is the gunned escort Flamboyant. We are undamaged and are proceeding to rendezvous with the Kivas. Under our control is a VIXEN class missile platform. We have three light fighters deployed." The radio gave mute testimony to the fact that no other would answer the call to friendly shipping. A note of hesitancy came into Lt. Dragoon's voice, "Droyne Cruiser Cheekbass... you will rendezvous with the trader Shoe list and remove all crew then make for jump point... You should just be able to make it. On second thought, head for jump point now. Have your cutter take the crew off and rendezvous at jump point you will jump for the Price system and contact the League there. Inform them to send reinforcements. "Droyne trader Shoe List, you will prepare to scuttle your ship. Head for jump point to shorten transfer time. "Droyne Trader Key Vast, prepare to scuttle. "Zho Escort Flamboyant, take off the crew of the Key Vast. Direct your missile platform and fighters to engage the enemy." The radio burst with tiny objecting voices as two Droyne merchant captains heard the orders to scuttle. Kfoks audibly restrained himself over the radio, "Dragoon, No disrespect intended... are you out of your Mind? Do you Really think *Three* *LIGHT* Fighters can take on *TWELVE* Vrrsheerrrsh *SDBS*, and *DO* Something!? *Other* than be Wiped out?" "Flamboyant squadron," answered Dragoon nastily, "Why don't you pull some sneaking, underhanded Zho trick on them?" "My compliments on your bigotry, asshole, but I'm Vargr." snapped Kfoks. "Flamboyant, On mark, I'm switching frequencies to preset B. Mark! Let's get the hell out of here. We'll rendezvous with you at the Kivas. We'll pick up survivors and jump the hell out of here." Niedrsha looked over the course projections. "Forget jumping, we'll never have time to pick 'em up and make jump point. They are coming in from outside the gravity well. We'd have to run right through them to get to jump distances. We could hide on the surface. We'd loose the VIXEN if we did jump: it's out of fuel." "She could make an in system jump." chimed Miakr. "To where?" asked Niedrsha. "The system gas giant." "Program it in, but don't execute it." ordered Jietlshaiepr, "We may need it's cover." "Coming up on the Kivas!" shouted Niedrsha. The once sleek needle like trader hove into visual range. The hull was opened up like a can just aft of the bridge. The engine room was visible through a rent in her stern just forward of the control surfaces. Jietlshaiepr grabbed her surgeon's kit. "I'm going to teleport aboard. Dock with the ship and be ready to receive casualties..." Suddenly, Shtam came onto the bridge lugging a tool kit, "I have a plan: no time to explain. Jietlshaiepr, take me across with you." Jietlshaiepr looked startled for a moment. "All right, it had better be good. Button up your battle dress. I'm going to take us outside the rent in the bridge, and then inside." "I am going to the engine room. Leave me outside." - II - The bridge disappeared as the two winked over to the stricken trader. The Kivas leaped towards them as they matched vectors with their grav belts. "What on Zhdant are you up to?" wondered Jietlshaiepr. Shtam smiled, "Just a sneaking, underhanded Zho trick I heard of once: preparing the power plant to overload. The pirates will take this ship aboard. If I am quick, I can give them a fusion bomb in the bargain." He jetted around to the engine room. Jietlshaiepr crawled in through the hole in the ships plating. Twisted wreckage showed a nearly vaporized computer room. Shtam's disembodied voice came to her in the darkness, "You will have to set up some explosives. Perhaps Gresha if you can not. We have to make it appear as though we tried to scuttle the ship but the attempt failed in the rush: wire up some of the ship's missiles with a bad detonator. Once they've found one surprise and defused it, it should satisfy them enough to take this ship on the capital ship." The computer was half molten. A small Droyne shadow lay across the panels where it hadn't become glowing slag. The operator's body had shielded the computer for a tiny instant. An intact iris valve stood nearby going forward. "I found an injured one back here." called Shtam. "Their engineer I assume, unconscious. It's in pressurized combat armor." Jietlshaiepr called back, " We don't have time for full treatment now. Make sure it's not going to get banged around and have Vole take him back to the Flamboyant when we're docked. We'll have to treat them there." Jietlshaiepr teleported through the iris valve, and onto the bridge. Suddenly, there was a huge metal beam at eye level, millimeters away from her helmet. "One more teleport like that and I'm history." The bridge was a burning shamble. The beam had fallen from the ceiling along with other structural pieces causing the air to hiss slowly into the vacuum. The panels were ablaze filling the room with black smoke. Blue alien emergency lights lit the bridge dimly through the smoke, but the sensors of the battle dress saw clearly. Two Droyne in combat armor were fighting the blaze at the other end of the beam where it had pinned a third to its acceleration couch. The draft from the air leak was drawing the smoke away from the fire keeping it alight. It wouldn't be long till the air was too thin to burn. Why not dump the atmosphere to put it out? The two barely noticed as she floated forward. The pinned Droyne's armor was cracked. She tried the strength enhancement of her battle dress to move the beam. It was set tight. "Flamboyant," radioed Jietlshaiepr, "We're going to need one of the tillys on the bridge: I need a heavy lifting crane. Get Rackan into the suit and get him over here." One Droyne managed in slurred Zhodani, "You sick make well?" "Yes, I am a surgeon." she replied quickly, "I have a team coming with heavy equipment. But we have to get it in here from outside, we'll have to seal his suit." The two Droyne glanced back with indeciperably alien expressions nearly completely hidden by armor. "Chrr, what say you?" In answer Jietlshaiepr bent to make a closer examination of the trapped Droyne. The beam rested across the chest and right shoulder of the creature. The shoulder was dented and cracked but the chest armor hand held up under the impact and had kept the mass from crushing the chest. The armored wing casing was bent at an odd angle. A quick glance at the two uninjured Droyne's wings showed the wing must be broken inside the casing, but the armor appeared to be sealed. For now it would serve as a temporary cast but it would be crazy when it came time to take it off. Jietlshaiepr quickly began sealing the cracked plates of the creature's armored suit. The fire was fading: the air was getting dangerously thin and poisonous. A minute later Jietlshaiepr was half finished with the sealant when Niedrsha sounded on the radio, "Kivas, this is Flamboyant, we are now positioned next to your air lock. Lock to lock docking appears impossible, your linkup system appears to be shot away. We are now ready for evacuation of casualties. Rackan estimates he will be with you in ten minutes." Jietlshaiepr transmitted, "Flamboyant, I want Gresha outside with a fusion gun, some explosives and detonators. First burn a hole into the bridge big enough for the tilly. Next take the detonators and wire up the Kivas's missile magazines. Vole, you bring across casualties. There is one unconscious in the engine room. Kaezorr, you know about micro-gravity, you go with Vole. Let's move, people!" Moments later she finished sealing the little Droyne's armor and stood up. The fire was out: nothing left to burn. Could the trapped creature still breathe? No way to tell if it was even alive inside the dead combat armor. Turning to the other Droyne, she spoke in Zhodani, "Get to the Flamboyant, the equipment..." "Galanglic speak please." interrupted the Droyne. She translated, "Get to the Flamboyant, the equipment will be here in a few minutes. I can't do any thing more until we get you crew aboard the Flamboyant." "Leave my Kivas." said the captain quietly. A chirping sounded on her radio. The Zhodani speaking Droyne stood up. "Teleport others to aid must I." The creature vanished immediately. The captain floated to the communicator on a side panel and chirped into it. Two colored hexagonal pie charts lit up: three slices of the first were out and two of the second. In a moment the lit slices became the video projections from the helmets of the surviving Droyne crew. The captain chirped sadly into it's comm set. The others answered slowly. Two of the cameras flashed brilliantly as someone began blasting away wreckage with a plasma gun. "Viepchakl," thought Jietlshaiepr, "they're well armed for a merchant crew. She moved aft to the iris valve. With the bridge in vacuum there's no need to keep it closed. As it opened she saw Gresha with a fusion gun. "We need a pretty big hole to get the tilly in here. Start blasting around the iris valve. Give me the detonators, I'll set the magazine." "Right, Jiet. You'd better get on the radio, Dragoon's breathing plasma since the fighters started back." "Blast! I haven't time to deal with that idiot! Niedrsha, do you read me? Patch me into the ship's radio." She moved aft around the ship's hull as Gresha started blasting a hole in the bulkhead. Lt. Dragoon's voice seemed hoarse as it came over the circuit, "...boyant come in. Damn you bastards!" "Spindleman, this is Jietlshaiepr of the Flamboyant we are conducting vital rescue operations. Do not jam this channel." "Flamboyant, you will redirect your fighters to engage the enemy." "*Request* denied." "Flamboyant, do you know what ship that is?! It's the raider Star Rider. If it gets away it'll kill hundreds! Maybe thousands!" "Dragoon, that ship is a ship of the line, it has a screen of twelve ships that are individually more than a match for my ship. The combined firepower of all our ships couldn't even scratch their defenses." "God damn it, Flamboyant! If that ship gets loose there'll be more victims than ALL our ships. It must be stopped!" "Viepchakl! You fool! Don't you see WE CAN'T STOP IT!" "Ok, coward Zho punks! We'll stop it ourselves! Spindleman out!" Miakr interrupted, "Jiet, they're on an intercept course." Jietlshaiepr shook her head, "Not for long, they're dead." In the engine room, she found Shtam working feverishly on the drives. "How's it going?" Shtam didn't look up. "I have the power plant operational, I do not dare turn it on: they would pick up the power and might suspect the trick. It will take a few more minutes to rig the containment vessel for overload. Then we can super-compress the plasma and bang!" "We have twelve minutes before we have to leave. Can you be ready?" "I will be ready. Is the magazine set?" "I'm on my way." She opened the hatch that lead forward to the turrets. A tube lead up toward the turrets. Kaezorr was floating down leading Drert and two Droyne who pulled a large Droyne figure in armor. One of the Droyne was carrying a PGDP-12. "We had to dig something out of the wreckage. They said it's alive." she explained. Jietlshaiepr lowered her shield and probed the recumbent creature: no life. In fact, there was nothing there. Confused, she put her psionic shield back up. The Droyne reappeared. Psi invisibility? "Take them back to the ship. I'll examine it there." She went up the tube to the turrets. They weren't far forward. Quickly, she rigged the missile igniters together and wired up the detonators. Just fire up one missile and the whole magazine would go. "...Nine, Eleven, Twelve missiles going up simultaneously... that ought to look like a pretty good self destruct..." She set the detonator timer to zero and put the battery in backwards. An obvious mistake, it'll look like the timer went down and didn't fire the missiles. "I only hope they buy it." - III - It took all of Jietlshaiepr, Gresha, Shtam, Kaezorr and Vole to maneuver Rackan in the tilly to the bridge of the Kivas. The metal tyrannosaur tore the bars away like paper as it entered the wrecked bridge. "All right, Rackan," cautioned Vole, "The armor may bend back when we remove the beam so do it slowly. It'll mess up the sealant." Rackan growled, "I don't take order's from robots..." Jietlshaiepr cut him off. "No, but you'll take them from *me*. Lift slow and easy like you're handling eggs. I have to reseal any leaks that open in the armor." Rackan locked the huge arms of the tilly onto the beam. "Ready." "One millimeter at a time." She cautioned, "Go." The arms began to strain at the beam not moving it. "Vole, help him." Vole moved in and locked his own robotic arms on the beam. "I'm going to use my laser welder," he warned. "It should help bend the beam which is what we're going to have to do." The laser lanced out and began heating the beam. A moment later, Rackan focused the tilly's laser welder on the beam. Slowly, slowly, slowly the beam began to bend. A foggy mist began spraying from the Droyne's shoulder. Jietlshaiepr put a patch on the leak, but another came open worse than the first. A second patch went on and the spray stopped. "Ok, carefully now..." she cautioned. Again they lifted. The beam had moved about a centimeter more when a trickle started from the Droyne's back. "Blast! I can't reach it! He's on top of it! Keep going!" The leak changed from a trickle to a jet, still she could not reach it. "All right! Lift! For all you're worth!" The beam came up faster, but still slowly. Jietlshaiepr threw her mind into her arms and lifted. The strength enhancers complained along with Vole's and the tilly's arms. Sweat dripped off her face as she watched the torrential leak helplessly. Other leaks began seeping from the shoulder. Suddenly, under the heat and strain, the superdense structural beam buckled. Jietlshaiepr grabbed the suit patches. One slammed over the hole in the back plate slowed it. A second closed it over. The leaks on the shoulder took three more patches. "Ok, get him back to the Flamboyant so we can get the fuck out of here!" sighed Jietlshaiepr with relief. - IV - They jetted back slowly to the Flamboyant pushing Rackan in the tilly. The cargo lock beckoned invitingly. "Get moving team," warned Niedrsha from the bridge, "The SDBs are closing. Range: one point five million kilometers. Our escape margin's gone. If we start running now they'll still get us in range before we make the surface." They floated slowly toward the open hatch. The massive bulk of the modified cargo carrier-battle suit was hugely difficult to maneuver. It floated through the airlock and bashed silently into the wall of the hold. Shtam punched the door control. The lock door slid quickly in place. Gravity came up slowly but too quickly for Rackan in the clumsy suit. He collapsed onto the floor. Jietlshaiepr hit the pressure controls, "Full throttle, Niedrsha, get us the fuck out of here!" - V - Jietlshaiepr counted heads. Out of twelve passengers and crew, two dead, four wounded, three of them badly. She stripped their armor off as she listened to Niedrsha's tactical report over the intercom. "Four SDBs have peeled off after the Chekbas and Shoolist. They'll both reach jump point before they can intercept. Chekbas will reach jump point in seventeen minutes, the Shoolist in thirty two. "The Shoolist's captain is out of his head! They're gonna try and jump outsystem with no fuel! They're gonna misjump deliberately! "One of the SDBs is closing on the Kivas. Two more are after the Spindleman. The Star Rider is slower than the SDBs, it also is closing on the Kivas. It will intercept the Kivas in about five hours. Niedrsha cleared his throat, "That leaves five SDBs after us and the VIXEN. They will be in firing range in one hour, fifty three minutes, thirty two minutes before we reach the surface. "Spindleman will be in their range in forty five minutes." Miakr came over the intercom, "Jietlshaiepr, what should I do with the VIXEN? It can't follow us into the atmosphere..." "Send it after our tail. It just might buy us some time. And it just might live if it makes one pass and keeps going." "Right Jiet... It's on it's way. Interception... thirty six minutes... twenty seconds." The pilot Droyne was small. Maybe a few centimeters shorter than Dr. Malenkoviepr. No wonder Mako had a rapport with such tiny creatures. Two of the four ribs were broken on the right side along with what passed for the collar bone. The right wing was a ragged mess where hollow bone had made a compound fracture. Vole and Tuerz worked on a large patient with a broken leg. Suddenly, Drert leaned over the pilot. He held the same blue crystal from the Ancient site. The point of the crystal flared up like a star. Jietlshaiepr turned her head from the bright flare. Her hands trembled as she held the wing of the tiny creature. Freezing heat flowed into her fingertips. She tried to let go but her muscles were locked tight. Every hair on her hands began to stand on end. The sensation swept up her arm. The hair of her head prickled as though it had become thorns. Suddenly, everything changed. The sensation swamped her body like a wave of honey. A low moan passed her lips as her every nerve was kissed, stroked, fondled, wrapped in a fur blanket and put by a warm fire. - VI - A minute later she found herself barely standing with Vole peering into her face. "What happened?" she sang dreamily. "I don't know." the robot said confusedly. "I was preparing to set the Droyne's leg when my limbs jammed: my neural activity sensor went off the scale. Then you started moaning and Tuerz howled. He collapsed but you were still standing." "Too much for him I guess... Where's Drert?" The gunner was over in the corner surrounded by the Droyne who were not stirring. The examining tables were empty, instead the tiny creatures were clinging to Drert like young opossums to their mother. Jietlshaiepr picked out the one who had been half crushed. No sign of any injury, or that any had taken place. It seemed to be sleeping quite contentedly. "Tuerz!" Kfoks burst into sick bay. "Are you all right? What happened?" The slender Vargr looked up dreamily. "Vargr! Taek, you should have been here. I haven't felt that good in..." "What happened?" Kfoks demanded. "I don't know cub, but I think I ruined my outfit..." - VII - Jietlshaiepr strolled onto the bridge and gazed longingly at Niedrsha. "So, how are we doing?" she whispered softly. Miakr stared into the sensors. "Three of the SDBs have altered course to attack the VIXEN, leaving two still after us... The VIXEN is coming into range... in two minutes." Miakr raised his eyes from the sensors for a moment and stretched his neck, "I directed her to make one pass to draw them off and then continue on an intercept course to the Spindleman. They're jerks, but they are fighting the right people." Jietlshaiepr sighed and became businesslike with a tinge of regret. "Time to get in range of the Spindleman?" "Ten minutes... just after the SDBs get there." Niedrsha shook his head. "The Chekbas has jumped out. The Shoolist is just about to try. Fuck, they're nuts!" The Shoolist was just a speck on the scopes. The chronometer ticked off the seconds till they gambled their lives. Even if they came out in an star system, they had no way to refuel. They had a one way ticket on a mystery tour to nowhere. Niedrsha found himself counting quietly to himself, "Four... Three... Two... One... Ze...", he was cut off as the dot suddenly flared brilliantly and vanished. He checked the instruments, "She's vaporized..." Jietlshaiepr took a deep breath. She leaned over Miakr to look into the readouts, "Ok, let's see how our little VIXEN makes out." - VIII - The VIXEN charged into missile range and released her deadly cargo. Four flights of missiles fanned out like streamers towards their targets. Another blossom of missiles surged into the vacuum as the space around the VIXEN surged with laser light from the SDBs. A flash, a surge, lanthanum boiled into space as the VIXEN was illuminated momentarily by a 750 megawatt laser battery. - IX - "She's hit!" Miakr half shouted. "It's all confused... All right, the jump drives been hit, probably totaled. It was in pretty bad shape anyway... Maneuver drive's damaged, down to five point three G's acceleration... Number two turret seems to be slow... but it's still in action!" Jietlshaiepr breathed, "Right, Miakr, get the robots to work on the..." "Already done.", he shot. "I've had them programmed for damage control since we entered combat." "Good boy." Niedrsha grinned, "Here comes missile intercept..." The screen flashed briefly with fission fire. Smaller flares went up as high explosive crashed into the SDBs. Miakr read off the sensors. "One SDB took a nuke... she's sluggish... hit in the maneuver drives... The other two are hit... Can't get a good reading at this range, but they took some damage." "Hold on to your hats, there goes the second flight of missiles." smiled Niedrsha. More flashes, barely visible at five million kilometers range lit the screen. "Another nuclear strike hit..." grinned Miakr, "Can't get a reading this time... No engine damage, that's for sure. They're still pursuing at the same speed. No change in power generated. Probable weapon damage." Jietlshaiepr drew a deep breath, "Maintain firing." The VIXEN continued to spiral missiles towards her opponents. A brief flare showed her silhouette against the stars as she twisted to escape. Miakr stiffened, "Number three turret damaged... Still in action. "Another strike got through. One SDB losing fuel... Blast these sensors, I can't tell if we're doing anything or not!" "Check out the Spindleman," cautioned Niedrsha. "She's about in range of the other two ships." "Viepchakl!" Miakr's eye's grew wide. "They're plastering the Spindleman... Multiple damage... Fuel leak... I read vaporized lanthanum: their jump drive's out... Maneuver drive's out... I wonder if there's any one left alive..." The SDBs turned their attention to the onrushing VIXEN just as she laid her nuclear eggs. A geyser of fuel fogged the vacuum momentarily obscuring her outline but she flew on with her wings paralyzed. "Shit!" screamed Miakr. "The VIXEN's maneuver drives are dead... Can't get anything from the engine room! She's out of control!" The VIXEN's missiles continued to fly. Slugging all her remaining strength into her weapons, she swung at her enemies. "She's still hitting them." read Miakr, I can't really see what she's doing to them but she's still firing." The SDBs couldn't miss a drifting target. The VIXEN continued to pour missiles out of her turrets and bay as they pounded her. The missile bay with it's nuclear missiles was their first target. It was quickly reduced to glowing metal. The final end came when her last fuel tank ruptured under the punishment of the mass attack of the five SDBs. Low on fuel after the jump, her power plant strangled as it's blood ran into the vacuum. Jietlshaiepr looked up from the display. "We're on our own now." - X - "Missiles away!" Gresha barked as six nuclear tipped missiles flared from the Flamboyant's racks. "Impact at this range: thirty one minutes." calculated Niedrsha, "We'll be down in thirty two. I'm headin' for the ocean: it's on the night side. We'll put down and submerge. That ought'a give their gunners a few headaches." "How long till they touch down?" Niedrsha's holographic head's up display flashed. "One hour, forty minutes, eighteen seconds. We've got ten minutes before they reach missile range... laser range in ten seconds. Laser batteries stand by." "Laser one ready." called Kaezorr. "Laser two ready." grumbled Rackan. Jietlshaiepr studied the range, "Niedrsha, evasive action. Lasers commence firing!" The Flamboyant wound itself into a knot as Niedrsha jerked the controls into a tight roll. X-ray lasers began blasting into the night seeking targets, but the SDBs flew on untouched by the onslaught of power. Moment's later the SDBs own lasers flicked on seeking the fleeing Escort. The visible spectrum lasers flashed on into the clouds of Welles below them. "Brrrraaacht... A laser strike at this range'll only be by a stroke of luck." growled Kaezorr. "Keep at it," Jietlshaiepr breathed, "and hope they're not any luckier..." Laser light blared back and forth as the gunners played a vicious game with seven hundred fifty megawatts of power. "I can't tell if I'm hittin' 'em or not!" barked Rackan. More missiles dropped from the Flamboyant's tubes and burned their way to the enemy. "I hit one!" called Kaezorr. Miakr read off the sensors. X-ray radiation emanated from the first SDB. "The leading SDB was hit. Can't verify any damage, but it hit." Jietlshaiepr bit her lip, "Good job, maintain fire." Time after time the lasers streaked out into space. "We can't hit 'em." barked Rackan. "They can't hit us either." called Miakr. "Concentrate fire on the wing SDB: the leader has ceased fire. That hit must have damaged their lasers." "Roger." Minutes dragged as the SDBs closed. Wildly slashing beams of photons flared; the superior targeting of the Flamboyant balanced by the superior agility of the SDBs. At a range of five hundred thousand kilometers where light takes three and a third seconds to go and return, only luck could result in a solid hit. Rackan began cursing the lasers in unintelligible Gevueg quietly but soon it got loud quickly. "Grraph ersharrrfphessh shreeelipf GARRCHT! Verrsh! I hit the veersheg!" "Hit to their laser batteries." called Miakr. "They've ceased laser fire. Their missiles are still after us though." "That's stupid." laughed Niedrsha, "We'll be underwater before they can possibly get anywhere near us." "They're still closing." "Maintain fire." ordered Jietlshaiepr. The lasers kept firing as the silent SDBs pursued but not a single more hit was made. - XI - "Cease fire, we're heading into the atmosphere." called Niedrsha, "We're gonna be a fireball in a few seconds. We'll show up on their infrared sensors like an imposter at an invisible man convention. "Engine room, divert power to overdrive engines. We need emergency agility." "You got it Niedrsha." announced Shtam, "Emergency power available on your demand." "Here we go!" The Flamboyant surged like a thing alive, invigorated by the diverted power and the guidance of Niedrsha's hands. She rolled and soared with a dancer's grace through a choreography as much pleasing to the eye as confusing to a gunner. "Altitude: one hundred forty nine kilometers." Niedrsha announced, "Touch down seven minutes. Passengers will please fasten their seat belts..." The fringes of the atmosphere began to glow on the windows of the ship. "We've lost radar contact. We're in radio blackout." said Miakr tensely. "Viepchakl!" breathed Jietlshaiepr, "We're a shooting star. How can they miss?" Niedrsha caught her eye and grinned, "Just watch me, sweetheart." The Flamboyant glowed cherry red as she twisted into Welles atmosphere. - XII - A few minutes later the radio crackled. "...ones. Come in Flamboyant. 'mergency... 'mergency... Come in Flamboyant. 'is is Surgeon Lt. Jones o' the League o' Suns." Jietlshaiepr took the radio, "Flamboyant here, go ahead Lt." "Requestin' tight beam communications. Change course, repeat, change yer course... yer current headin' will take ya in an 'ostile area. Mercenary company `ats thick wi' the pirates. Avoid island ot five degrees south, one forty eight east. Heavy defenses." "Gotcha." mumbled Niedrsha. "We've lost contact with the Spindleman." continued Jones. "What ya got on her?" Miakr read off, "Uhhh... Spindleman took heavy laser damage. maneuver drives out, jump drives too, I think. Her power plant was still going, but she was losing fuel." "Thank ya, Flamboyant. Request rendezvous wi' ya ot eleven degrees north, zero degrees east. Thot's seventy kilometers north o' the starport. We're going te need each other." Jietlshaiepr sniffed, "Have you got anything to deal with a ship of the line?" "Ah, Negative, Flamboyant." "Ok, Jones, but don't wait up for us. We're busy. We'll give you a signal code burst... Uhhh... Stat Code Blue." "Affirmative, good luck. Lt. Jones out." Miakr read the sensors, "Missile intercept coming up... now!" Nuclear flowers blossomed in the night, lighting the darkened side of the planet as the missiles crashed into the wing SDB, flooding the spectrum with static. A moment later the second flight of missiles flew among the SDBs. The lead SDB flared as the missiles blazed into it. "They're hit, but still flying." called Miakr. "Too much interference from the blast. I can't tell what it did to them." "Hold on!" growled Niedrsha, "Here comes the water... We're going in." The Flamboyant lurched as she hit the water. Inertial compensators strained to keep the stress down, but still it was a rough ride. The hull rattled and rang as water boiled off the surfaces of the ship, blazing hot after the wild ride through the atmosphere, sending billowing steam into the night. Finally, she stopped pitching as she lost weigh and drifted in the water. "Dive! Dive!" called Jietlshaiepr, "Engine room, open fuel stop cocks. Take us down." - XIII - Missiles smashed into the surface of the water where the Flamboyant had landed sending plumes of water hundreds of meters in the air. Protected by the depths, the Flamboyant sank unharmed to the bottom with her eyes wide open. Jietlshaiepr studied the sensors; densitometers and neutrino detector taking the place of radar and ladar, not as accurate, but still workable. "We're safe down here for the moment... We have fifty eight minutes before the SDBs are in down. The other five SDBs have followed us down. They will be here in one hundred and two minutes. Star Rider is still heading for the Kivas. They'll rendezvous in... two hours thirty seven minutes. The other SDBs have turned to rendezvous with the Star Rider. Looks like they finished with the... Hold on... I'm picking up movement. I can't identify... It must be the Spindleman. They're alive. She's in a descending orbit. Dragoon must be crazy. With all the damage, she'll burn up." "Hold on." Niedrsha examined the sensors. "I think they're coming in for a EVA re-entry." "Combat drop." thought Jietlshaiepr, "Viepchakl, what a ride. They're gonna need a recovery team." "That ain't us. Leave 'em to Jones." snorted Niedrsha. "They'll be in position to try in in three hours forty four minutes." "Seven SDBs: two damaged, five fresh." "Well, in this atmosphere, they can't go any faster than we can, and on the deck, we can go faster than they in a nape of the ground mode." "That's not very comforting, but it's something." sighed Jietlshaiepr. "There's an ocean trench forty kilometers east. We'll take them there." - XIV - The SBDs skimmed the surface, landed, submerged and came hunting. Miakr read it off, "We've got one forty kilometers off to the north east and one fifty to the south south east." "All right, let's go." Jietlshaiepr breathed. The Flamboyant was ready: high explosive missiles loaded and the power plant throttled down to minimum to avoid detection. The ship looked out into the murky depths. Her densitometer scanning the waters, she sought out the enemy power plants with her neutrino detector. "Maximum range of our missiles is about fifteen kilometers underwater. We're gonna have to be awfully close." commented Gresha. "They can't see as well as we can in water, their sensors are not as good as ours: those SDBs are only tech level twelve." commented Shtam from the engine room. "Agreed, but at this range it won't help us that much." interjected Kfoks. "One's breached the surface and is coming in overhead." called Miakr. "Forty three kilometers and closing bearing one six three degrees. Speed: one thousand two hundred kilometers per hour." "Ready missiles." called Jietlshaiepr. "Forty one kilometers... time to range mark: one minute ten seconds... Mark! The other one's following suit, bearing five zero degrees, time to range mark: one minute twenty five seconds... Mark!" "Niedrsha take us up to forty meters and put us over on our starboard side. Gunners stay sharp, dorsal turret take the east, ventral take the south target." The SDBs bore in skimming the water meters over the surface. Sending up huge blasts of water as their sonic booms blasted the surface of the water setting up wakes that shone in the moonlight. Seconds dragged by as the sensors counted the rapidly decreasing range. Jietlshaiepr breathed heavily, "Begin evasive action. Range?" Miakr read the sensors nervously, "Twenty two and thirty kilometers respectively." "Open fire when the second is at twenty kilometers." "Thirty seconds." counted Miakr. "Here they come... Speed one thousand... Range twenty five... Fifteen seconds... Ten... Range twenty two... They're slowing down." "Damn the range, get 'em while they're airborne. Open fire." Six missiles left the tubes and speared through the water. "Intercept: four seconds..." swallowed Miakr. "Niedrsha, take us down! One hundred meters!" The Flamboyant dove for the bottom as the SDBs came barrelling in. Missiles smashed through the water and blasted the after underbelly of the leader. Caught, she flipped and tumbled bow first into the water at nine hundred kilometers per hour. The bridge wind screen shattered and flooded the bridge. The inertial compensators collapsed as the ship hit sending the full force of the hypersonic crash throughout the ship. End over end the ship tumbled, spinning and spreading wreckage over a two kilometer strech of open ocean. The second SDB caught a missile on her port bow throwing the starboard side stern into the water. Caught by the dragging water she slewed around to starboard, spinning like a disk and smashed her engines into the concrete hardness of the water at the speed of sound. She bounced and planed to a stop. She was badly twisted and riddled with gaps where armor plating buckled and bent. Quickly she filled with water and sank. "She's going down..." called Miakr. "Densitometer says she's half full of water... What's left of the hull won't hold in the depths. She's at two hundred meters and going down fast... Two fifty... Hearing straining bulkheads... three hundred meters..." A huge explosion set the hull ringing. The inertial compensators took out most of the rocking. "She's blown up! The magazines went!" Jietlshaiepr took a deep breath and flopped back in her acceleration couch. "Two down... Five to go. It isn't going to be any easier: they won't make that mistake twice." - XV - Two SDBs stayed in orbit. Three came in lower. The Flamboyant lurked forty meters under, safe from bombardment. Every few minutes a lone missile came down and exploded as it hit the surface. "They keep inching lower, but that's all." yawned Miakr shaking with fatigue and nerves. "Viepchakl, we've been at this for nearly five hours. Seven hours and fifty one minutes since we received the Droyne distress signal." Jietlshaiepr smiled weakly, "Just be glad they aren't firing nuclear rounds." Shtam, sighed over the intercom, "They are probably out of nuclear missiles. They only fired one: that being at the Droyne cruiser. They have not used one more. We on the other hand Have used them. That must be why they are staying off until they can get the big guns to bear on us: the Star Rider's spinal mount meson accelerator." Niedrsha brushed the hair from his forehead, "That's not for a while yet, they're still fifty minutes away from the Kivas. I hope they don't find your work Shtam." "Ok!" barked Jietlshaiepr jumping to her feet. "Gresha, you awake?" "Rrrrrrrrooff!" yawned Gresha, "Yeah, I'm still on my feet." "How many missiles have we got?" "Oh, we've still got quite a few. Plus the ones still in the Vipers, oh... eighteen fission rounds, thirty one high explosive." "Ok, what loads have you got in there now?" "Fission." "Right. In forty minutes I want you to reload with high explosive." "Why?" "They don't know how many missiles we have. If we convince them we're out of nuclear rounds, we can coax them down for a good shot at them when they're in the atmosphere." Niedrsha smiled getting the picture, "And if we convince them when they're taking the Kivas on board the Star Rider..." Jietlshaiepr nodded, "They'll be too busy to find Shtam's handiwork." - XVI - "Miakr, Niedrsha, wake up." Jietlshaiepr shook the bridge crew awake. "Rendezvous: Star Rider has been standing off the Kivas for six minutes. That's just enough for them to find the booby trap in the magazines. "Gresha, are you ready?" she asked. "High explosive rounds loaded in the dorsal turret, nuclear in the ventral. When we're ready we flip and fire." "Miakr, what altitude are they at?" "The three are at one hundred seventy kilometers, the other two are at twenty nine thousand: synchronous orbit." "Gresha, fire one missile at each of the low targets. Just one missile at a time. Get across to them we're running out." "Firing!" The first missile rose to fifty kilometers before the enemy lasers blew it to shreds. The second was blown apart at one hundred twenty kilometers. The third hit. "Out gassing, looks like we hit a fuel tank." sighed Miakr. "Gresha, fire one round at each of the ships's we didn't hit. Leave the other alone." "Firing!" The SDBs sidestepped the missiles and blasted them from the sky with their lasers. "All right, Gresha one more shot at the leading one and that's it." "Firing!" The missile lifted clear of the atmosphere and hit the leader. Miakr studied the read out, "Can't read any damage... We connected though... Hold on... Here they come! One hundred sixty kilometers and descending. They'll start re-entry in thirty seconds. "Niedrsha, surface! Laser turrets, fire when breach." The Flamboyant rose and broke the surface in the dark night. Six 250 megawatt X-ray lasers struck out into the blackness. Three fireballs streaking through the upper atmosphere could not evade. "We hit two of them, I can't read any thing definite." growled Miakr. "Maintain fire! Hit 'em while their burning!" The lasers hummed, sending streams of high energy photons into into the night. "We've hit them a few times." strained Miakr, "I can't see a damn thing... They're coming out of re-entry. Altitude one hundred ten kilometers." "Dive! Dive! Take us down, Niedrsha! One hundred meters!" Flamboyant went under shaking from the blasts as the surface was pummeled with visible light lasers and high explosive missiles. "Are you sure it's a good idea to DRAW their attention?" asked Miakr incredulously. "Better their's than Star Rider's." "Point taken." The surface of the water glowed bright white as the lasers of the three SDBs tried vainly to reach the Flamboyant. The power diffused too rapidly through the ocean water. "We loose a flight of nuclear missiles when they're at five kilometers. Power down all unnecessary systems. Prepare for fission blast." "Five minutes forty till firing..." called off Miakr. "Altitude: ninety five kilometers..." Shtam cut power to general systems and rigged the current grounds to the engine capacitors. The electromagnetic pulse picked up by the ship's electronics would be channeled into the power plant restart system. This should avoid most of the damage and shorts triggered by the atomic fission blast. The computer, power and other vital systems would be triggered to shut down after the missiles fired. In advance the systems were pre-checked for emergency restart. Miakr read, "Twenty seconds to fire... Altitude ten kilometers..." "Invert the ship." ordered Jietlshaiepr. "Everyone strap in. We'll lose artificial gravity when we cut power." Miakr counted the range, "Ten seconds... Seven kilometers... Five... Four..... Two... One... Fire!" Three fission warheads left the missile racks of the darkening Flamboyant. The missiles rose at eight G's for seven seconds. Streaking into the night and into the heart of the SDB formation. - XVII - The dawn was just breaking over the ocean. Clouds streaked across the deep bluish black of the horizon. Suddenly, three suns came up briefly burning into the sky, mountains of electric fire. The thunder went far and deep across the surface of Welles. - XVIII - Three SDBs spun wildly out of control caught off guard by a nuclear blast. Two of them fell uncontrollably and smashed into the sea disintegrating on the surface. The third and farthest from the blast spiraled away flaming as her blasted fuel tanks gave up their hydrogen blood. She came spinning down, loosing power as her power plant strangled itself. The pilot, surrounded by the corpses of the rest of the bridge crew, pulled up. The power was fading fast. The nose stayed up but the drives were failing. Descending fast, the ship came down and skimmed the surface headed for shore. The inertial compensators failed he strapped himself in and waited for the shock of impact. Ground effect kept her aloft for a few hundred meters then she hit: stern first. She plowed through the water to a stop. Quickly, the cracked fuel tanks filled with water: hydrogen for the fusion plant. But the tortured power plant had suffered enough. It grew cold in its innards and refused to restart. The fuel tanks leaked, flooding the engine room and aft sections. The deck tilted as the stern went down. The pilot got up and struggled to the air lock: unmovable with the power shut down. Quickly, he grabbed a survival kit and fired the explosive bolts of the windscreen. He climbed painfully out onto the nose of the SDB, inflated the raft, and flung it and himself into the water. - XIX - Flamboyant's power came back quickly. "Good work, Shtam. All stations report in!" called Jietlshaiepr. Calls came in from all over the ship. "Computer operational! Sensors... noisy, but operational!" "Helm answering!" "Engine room, all drives check!" "Dorsal missile turret check!" "Ventral missile turret check!" "Starboard laser turret check!" "Port laser turret check!" "We were very lucky..." sighed Jietlshaiepr. "Miakr, where is the Star Rider?" Miakr's eyes grew wide, "She's coming right at us!" A blast of heavy meson fire exploded through the water. "VIEPCHAKLVA!" Jietlshaiepr screamed. "Shtam! Detonate the plant! NOW!" The Kivas power plant suddenly activated and ran up to full power. The electromagnetic plasma bottle drew the full power of the fusion plant containing the plasma even tighter inducing more fusion reactions in the hydrogen plasma. The increased power was fed into the plasma bottle drawing the plasma even tighter increasing power in a geometric progression... 1..2..4..8..16..32..64..128..256..512..1024..2048..4096..8192.. 16384..32768..65536..131072..262144..524288..1048576..2097152.. The dawn sky flared with a blinding fusion flash for a second which broke the Star Rider's back. Molten pieces of the pirate ship blossomed into space, flaring and burning as they hit the atmosphere or freezing as they drifted into interplanetary space. - XX - An hour later, the main bridge crew was sleeping off the battle. Taek Kfoks turned away from the sensors and back to the helm. "I guess they were right. The two SDBs haven't moved from orbit. They're just sitting there. There's nowhere they can go: they aren't jump capable, and they don't want to take us on. They'll just have to wait it out." "And we're trapped down here!" snarled Tuerz. Kfoks nodded calmly, "True, if we took off, we'd never make jump before they'd be shaking us in their jaws. Their detectors can pick up a one gigawatt fusion plant. We'd have to run power up to a minimum of that to get this ship to move. The fighters and the Gig could move, but where would you go on this planet?" "Grrrraaph. I'd like to saw their fingers off one by one. Taek, I can't stand this waiting! I've got to kill someone. Maybe Stuzzel..." Long used to his excitable friend's nervous murderousness, Kfoks responded quietly and calmly, "No, don't kill him. We need him. We're in too much of a jam for you to have fun with him." "But one day, you'll let me kill him won't you?" "Sure, if it comes to that, but I hope you'll get a chance to get one of the enemy. There's a mercenary company on this planet, probably with connections to the pirates. If we can catch..." "Interrogate!" grinned Tuerz. "Yes." nodded Kfoks. "Torture..." sighed Tuerz. "Yes." nodded Kfoks. Tuerz went into a silent reverie contemplating the interrogation of a captured mercenary. Kfoks sighed inwardly. Tuerz was getting close to panic with pressure and inaction. It was fortunate that he enjoyed his fantasies enough to take away the panic, but Tuerz blood lust was up now. At least it had been channeled towards the enemy. Left to himself, Tuerz could be a danger to almost everyone. - XXI - Jietlshaiepr sat yawning and sipping her morning tea in sick bay listening to the grateful Droyne captain explain their story. They got through the shredded galanglic slowly with the help of the other Droyne: They were a trade convoy out of Tesser, a large population planet in the Consulate, headed back from a tour of the systems around the sector that had Droyne inhabitants. They jumped to Welles for fuel. The planet's inhabitants were having big trouble. A strange plague which only killed certain human genotypes and an apparently high tech mercenary company involved in slaving on the low tech planet. The League of Suns had sent an expedition to find out about all the trouble and they had apparently cured the disease. The Droyne got their fuel and were heading out when BANG! They had been rather well armed because of the mounting piracy in the sector. Thus they carried a six Droyne team of drop troops. Yes, actually, they had heard of Dr. Malenkoviepr. Born on Tesser, fully integrated into Droyne society and understanding. Never met him, but understand he's quite intelligent for a human with their strange ways... - XXII - Shtam took the Gig's controls and dropped away from the submerged Flamboyant. "Go five kilometers south and surface." ordered Jietlshaiepr. "We'll transmit the signal: 'Stat Code Blue'. That'll bring Lt. Jones to the rendezvous point." Kfoks began checking over his huge armored tilly. "We'd better be ready. If Dragoon is typical of them they might try to commandeer the Flamboyant." "I'd like to see them try." laughed Gresha stroking the side of the tilly with the armored gloves of her battle dress. Jietlshaiepr shook her head and checked her fusion gun, "They just better not. We've got enough troubles as it is." "They obviously need help or they would not have requested this meeting." observed Vole. "It is not beyond human capacity to take what they need." - XXIII - Vole stalked through the underbrush of the prairie towards the grounded Air/Raft, pausing to examine the territory for signs of travel. An animal had passed through the underbrush three hours ago, large, approximately one hundred twenty kilograms, hooves with three divisions, probably a herbivore, the tracks indicated a foot built for agility or climbing, not clawing or a weapon. Herbivores could be dangerous, but probably not to as well armed a party as Flamboyant's crew. At six hundred meters, Vole flicked on his telescopic vision from concealment in the grasses. Two figures in battle dress, two in combat armor, Imperial model battle dress with League of suns emblems. The figures in battle dress were carrying gauss rifles and one was carrying a large primitive plasma gun: almost assuredly a PGMP-12. The two in combat armor were unarmed, but laser rifles were nearby. Three of the reception committee had their helmets open and appeared to be women. The fourth, in combat armor, had the helmet fastened. Vole crept closer and began to scan for neural activity. At five hundred meters the neural activity sensor picked up the committee. A bit weak for four, but there were no other large life forms in range. At three hundred meters Vole could advance no further without being seen, and he began to circle the Air/Raft to cover the entire area with his NAS. It didn't take long to discover the area was clean of ambushers. It did take a longer time to resolve the psionic emanations of the Air/Raft crew. There were only two sources of neural activity. - XXIV - The radio sang out as the Gig landed. "Surgeon Lt. Jones here, Flamboyant Gig, do ya hove any males aboard?" Jietlshaiepr, took the radio confused, "Affirmative, Jones." "There's a bioagent loose on the planet: lethal te ninety two percent o' human males exposed an' point six percent o' females. All humans must wear protective clothing. I hove a serum which hos so far proven effective, bu' only as a vaccine. It doesn'a cure victims, but can provides inoculation." "Thank you for the warning." The cargo lift dropped to the ground lowering Kfoks in the Tilly while Jietlshaiepr and Gresha flew out on their grav belts. Shtam climbed down the landing ladder. Jones stepped up, unarmed, presenting himself and opening the helmet of his combat armor, and bowed in imitation of Zhodani fashion. "Not bad looking," thought Jietlshaiepr to herself as she nodded acknowledging him (nobles don't bow), "If only he were Zhodani height..." Vole sounded on a private radio circuit, "Watch him, he's psi-shielded." "Surgeon Lt. Jones." he said by way of introduction. "Allow me te welcome ya te Welles." Shtam, picking up the role of lieutenant made the introductions, "Allow me to introduce our exalted captain: in your terms the Lt. Dame Jietlshaiepr." the title was redundant, but it would reinforce Jietlshaiepr as an authority figure. "Force leader Taek Kfoks..." he gestured to the huge form of Kfoks in the tilly. Kfoks turned the head of the tilly to focus on Jones as though unintentionally bringing the tilly's laser welder, gauss rifle, RAM auto grenade launcher and fusion gun to bear on Jones head. "First Lt. Gresha..." Gresha nodded to Jones and shouldered her own fusion gun. "And I am Shtam." he bowed, ill concealing the gauss rifle strapped to his back. The private frequency sounded with Shtam's voice. "The two officers are carrying concealable submachine guns: those featureless black boxes on their belts." Jones introduced his party. The woman in combat armor was Surgeon Ens. Smith who Vole cautioned was also psi-shielded, while the two League marines in battle dress were Cpl. Delt and Pvt. Walker. Walker carried what was definitely a PGMP-12 of League manufacture. "How many humans in yer crew captain?" asked Jones, "I've got te give ya sufficient vaccine fer ya an' yer crew." "We have five humans aboard." stated Jietlshaiepr. "I require an additional dose to examine myself, along with a sample of the bioagent." "Agreed, I thought ya'd want a sample. I hove six doses here yer free to examine. The virus is possibly type 9 or A selective: It reads human genetic material an' kills unless certain genes are present. It's usually a race specific disease, bu' in this case, it's also a sex specific one." "What genetic structure does it attack?" Jones put on an authoritative air, "Ah, it combines with skin pigmentation genes on the DNA strand. Whar certain genes are present, the DNA's modified so that in the normal protein synthesis process, whar the cell would ordinarily produce pigment, the cell produces toxic combinations of amino acids. "However in women," he continued, "the gene sites appear to be affected differently: the toxins created merely result in sterility." "And what type of vaccine have you against this virus?" sighed Jietlshaiepr trying to sound unimpressed. Jones shifted his weight from one foot to the other, "The serum is a standard one with little modification. It actually is a serum we use to correct genetic diseases an' birth defects by restructuring the DNA to the normal pattern." "WHICH normal pattern? There are many. As many as there are human races." "Ah, yea..." stumbled Jones. "Actually we originally developed this stuff from work done in the Dynchia Commita, so I presume it's their 'normal' genetic pattern." "So you don't mind your children having a mane, fangs and six fingers: very liberal of you Lt. Jones." Jones laughed, "Ah, my own gametes are in a sperm bank somewhere back home. The League wouldn'a dare lose these hands." Ensign Smith interjected, "It should correct defects, not traits." "I would presume that the Dynchia would regard traits such as having only five fingers defective." observed Jietlshaiepr. "I concur." interjected Jones, "But, we've modified it fer our own uses. An' anyway, there's a mixture o' just about every human race in the League, even Zhodani. I'd assume it won't radically change yer crew's genetic structure, Cap'n Jietlshaiepr. If that's what ya fear, I'd suggest that ya put samples of yer own crew's gametes in cold storage." "I shall have to investigate what genetic structures it does effect before deciding wither or not to use it. There probably are less drastic ways of dealing with this than your serum, but the availability of such medications is not immediate. "What do you know about non humans? Are any other species affected by the disease?" "Not that we know of." Commented Smith, "There're a few Aslani an' Vargr on Welles but they've not been affected. "By the way," she continued with one eyebrow raised, "I couldn'a help noticing that yer're flying an Imperial built Gig, like one from a Gazelle class close escort..." "The Flamboyant is from the Fiery sub-class of the Gazelle." corrected Kfoks, "Gazelle class escorts are not streamlined, and can not enter atmospheres." "An ex-corsair, captured by my crew." explained Jietlshaiepr, "Probably from this very same pirate band." "Ahh, then you are Not Zhodani navy." observed Smith. "An' Zhodani military wouldn't carry Vargr troops either." "Not necessarily." she admitted, and changed the subject. "Lt. Jones, you asked us here for a meeting. What is it you wish?" "Ah, partly te congratulate you on yer actions an' escape, an' partly to osk yer assistance. With the Spindleman out o' action, there's a limit to what we can do here. Whot exactly is the situation in orbit?" "Star Rider vaporized, taking most of her attack craft with her. There are still two SDBs in orbit watching the Flamboyant. There may yet be a Fanzheinz class trader out there. "As for the Spindleman, the last we saw on our instruments it was heading for a bail out." "They're alive?" "It would seem so, they had partially recovered power. That was the last I heard of them. We presumed you would have arranged their pick up." Jones hit his radio circuit. "Recon one, go to five kilometers altitude and scan. Report any re-entrys or homing beacons." Vole came over the radio, "I can make out a military recon robot climbing. Distance: one point six kilometers." "Exactly what is the disposition of the enemy encampment you mentioned?" asked Jietlshaiepr. Corporal Delt stepped forward eyeing the Flamboyant's crew with a degree of distrust. "Me an' Walker made a recon sweep out on the island they hold. Got in pretty close: managed ta get a pretty good look. They got two four hundred ton fat traders in camouflage, three 'eavy artillery platforms, two G-carriers, an' an Air/Roft. I guess their strength's about a company: about A hundred an' twenty." "They appear te be on a slave taking mission." interjected Jones. "The population of several small towns hove vanished." "I would estimate that the two traders could lift the company an' equipment, but not with any cargo of slaves." "Yeah," agreed Delt. "They got a crater fenced off: looks like it was blasted wi' artillery: prob'ly where they keep pris'ners. We tried gettin' in closer bu' they saw us. We took fire, woulda been hit if they'da used bullets. They splattered us wi' tranq rounds. We took off an' our 'bots covered us. Took 'em a while ta get anything heavy on us, bu' they opened up wi' a light assault gun an' that damaged the 'bots some." The recon robot came over the radio, "Have found three re-entry traces and one auto-distress signal." Jones looked confused, "Coming from the re-entry?" "Negative, out at sea: bearing: one hundred four degrees, range: seven hundred forty kilometers approximate. Also picking up three craft moving to intercept re-entrys and distress signal." "Identify craft." "Craft moving to intercept re-entry tracks are two G-carriers. Craft moving to intercept distress signal is one Air/Raft." Jietlshaiepr thought out loud, "We downed about five SDBs..." "Then this'd be our chance te get a prisoner." concluded Smith. - XXV - The plan formed quickly. Cpl. Delt took the Air/Raft and recon robot after the freefalling Spindleman's crew. They would be able to pick up two before the G-carriers got there. A guard robot would take care of the third crew member. Meanwhile, there was the distress signal to answer... - XXVI - The Gig raced over the surface of Welles under Shtam's careful piloting. Ens. Smith sat tensely as she related Welles culture, "The planet 'ad a feudal system set up about a hundred years ago when the free trader Warsaw set down. They hod jump drive trouble: they couldn'a make jump an' couldn'a repair it. "The Warsaw's captain usurped the government in an attempt te get 'is ship repaired, bu' the power struggle took a while an' when they hod the means to leave they didn'a want to: they'd conquered the whole bloody planet. "Not all Welles nobles accepted the usurper, bu' the crew were pretty innovative; managed te take the ship's cargo of grav modules an' build whot are essentially: grav powered ironclads. With air power, the crew managed te make the claim te the throne stick. Actually, it's not a throne: the Warsaw's now the palace of the government so it's the command chair. The ship can'na take off, bu' it's still operational. The fusion plant powers the main city around the starport. "The position of captain's hereditary. The current captain: Captain Billy the Third is'na able te 'andle the responsibility. 'e locked himself in the Warsaw until we arrived te avoid the plague. Maybe it saved 'is life, but with no government the whole planet's in turmoil: totally unable to 'andle the slavers. "Most of their grav ironclads are out of commission, not because they've engaged the mercenaries, other than a few minor skirmishes, bu' because nearly half their crews are dead from the bioagent." Kfoks cocked his ears, "Is there any organization still intact among the natives?" Smith took a deep breath, "Well, their navy still hos a few ships operational: four or five aerial ironclads, no' counting what surface ships they have left. They lost most or all o' their dirigibles an' surface ships when the crews caught the plague: just couldn'a handle the ship when bad weather caught 'em. The ironclads had the speed to make it back te base before the crews died. "They've got one large aerial ironclad an' several smaller ones. Their admiral's kept their flagship going by transferring crews: the Pasadena. I tell you, they're the weirdest looking things I've ever seen: grav technology with steam engine propellers and cannons." Kfoks regarded her closely, "What's the population of this planet?" Smith took a deep breath and closed her eyes, "Two months ago, it were seven million, eight hundred thousand people." images of the last two weeks of death passed over her face. "We estimate... three an' a half million dead." - XXVII - "Picking up radiation." observed Jietlshaiepr. "Dangerous in long exposure, no more than fifteen minutes outside... Picking up something in the water... small, distorted, but it's there... coming in visual range." The downed SDB was barely afloat. Only the bridge remained above water with its wind screen blown out by explosive bolts. The hull was scarred and burned by nuclear fire. The plates bent and cracked from the crash impact. "There 'e is!" called Jones. A limp figure in a rubber raft drifted a hundred meters from the wrecked ship. Vole's voice came over the suit radio in Zhodani, "I read him out as semiconscious. There is another life source inside the ship: roughly I'd say in the engine room. Condition unconscious, but definitely alive." Jietlshaiepr thought aloud, "Shtam, set us down. Gresha, you grab the one in the raft. It's too risky to board that thing, but..." Gresha climbed into the airlock as Jietlshaiepr began to concentrate on psionically feeling her way into the ship. The ship shuddered slightly as the Gig plowed along the surface. Gresha tumbled outside and into the water. She sank quickly under the weight of her battle dress before rising free on her grav belt. She skimmed the waves to the drifting raft. It was a five person raft bobbing about like a cork with it's only occupant. He was sprawled face down in the center of the raft wearing a vac suit. The helmet lay nearby with a shattered face plate. The floor of the raft was rolling with vomit. "Srrishe, furr sorze gorrar!" translates directly as 'Vile, personal finger noise.', and idiomatically as 'Bleech!' Gresha hauled him out and dipped the pirate in the ocean before she pulled him aloft. "'ey, Should we bother wi' the other?" wondered Jones. "We got one, mate?" "Quiet!" barked Jietlshaiepr. She stared into the wreck with her eyes closed. Seconds later, she vanished into the proverbial thin air. Smith and Jones exchanged glances. Waves beat over the rolling, half submerged SDB threatening to send it to the bottom as they washed close to the missing windscreen. Jietlshaiepr appeared standing on the ships hull as it rolled. She was lugging a limp figure in a vac suit. She lifted it in her arms carefully and took off with her grav belt. Slowly, she moved up and into the Gig's airlock. "This one's in pretty bad shape." she called. "Even with better attention than we can give I don't think she'd recover consciousness." Smith and Jones examined the one Gresha had brought in. "This one's pretty bad," commented Smith, "We need to get 'im cleaned off and on intravenous. Radiation, exposure, shock, second degree burns on the face, we have to get 'im out o' this suit: it's radioactive." Jietlshaiepr grabbed a pair of pliers, "First thing's first." She pushed Jones aside and grabbed the pirates head. She deftly forced his mouth open against his will and quickly looked inside. She found what she was looking for quickly and grabbed with the pliers. A bloody tooth came out. The pirate screamed and passed out. "Wha..." began Jones, then comprehending, "Ahh... Suicide capsule. Quick thinking." Jietlshaiepr removed the other prisoner's tooth more gently. "I think this one's about had it. Radiation, internal injuries, shock..." - XXVIII - The Gig raced back towards the continent. Corporal Delt the radioed her report, "I got Turner, she's O.K." pause, "Spacehand Apprentice Coleman is dead: Suit burned through in re-entry. I'll rendezvous with Lt. Dragoon in seventeen minutes." "What's our ETA?" asked Jietlshaiepr. "Sixteen minutes." read Shtam. "And the two G-carriers should be right about on top of her by now." thought Smith. - XXIX - Dragoon watched from cover with the guard robot. The two G-carriers circled around looking at the wilted parachute from her re-entry kit with their laser turrets spinning around like great white, one eyed hawks. One hawk dropped down for a closer look. It hovered for a few seconds a meter above the ground and then set down. Quickly, the rear hatch opened and the hawk's brood jumped out: a fire team of four armed with advanced combat rifles. Dragoon raised her laser rifle to the ready. The leader started to motion the team to fan out when his black combat environment suit flared red over the left breast and burst into flame. He clutched at his chest and went down. A burst of gauss rifle fire from the guard robot sprayed the team as it glanced around in confusion. Two more fell with bloodied suits. The fourth, wounded, still managed to stand and fire a burst in the air before being cut down by Dragoon's laser. Dragoon burst from cover and ran for the hatch screaming. The robot flew directly for the second G-carrier and grabbed its under carriage. Bursts of rifle fire rang from inside the first G-carrier followed by the sizzle of a laser. The guard robot began ripping away the hull of the G-carrier. The metal bent easily under its huge strength. A moment later it exposed a grav module and sent a burst of gauss rifle fire into the works. It sputtered and shorted briefly. The G-carrier took on a list. A sizzle sounded inside the downed G-carrier. More metal tore away from the G-carrier a second grav module hove into view. The robot fired into the second module when Dragoon sounded on its radio. "Robot, get off that thing!" It dropped away from the listing G-carrier when the first G-carrier opened fire. The laser lanced into the sky missing by five meters. The second pulse missed by two meters. Then, the underside of the G-carrier exploded. Tiny bits of fusion plant flew out from the shattered hull. Without power, the G-carrier fell like a stone. It dropped twenty meters and smashed itself into the ground. The fuel tanks ruptured and hydrogen flared into the sky. The armor caught fire and the ship blazed like a furnace. A moment later, in the Gig they heard Dragoon screaming wildly over the radio. - XXX - They found her lounging on the rear hatch of the G-carrier with a grin on her face, laser rifle on her shoulder, smoking a cigarette while blood streamed down her arm from a hole in her combat armor. In the back ground a radio sounded, "come in... G-carrier one come in... Report..." Jones looked over the wound while Smith and Jietlshaiepr climbed inside the G-carrier. "It's a standard Tarsan class G-carrier: tech level ten, Imperial design." commented Smith as she made her way forward. "No identifying marks on it... can't tell where it was built." thought Jietlshaiepr aloud. "I wouldn'a expect there te be any." answered Smith, "Bu' with the radio open we can send a distress call..." - XXXI - The ambush was quickly laid out. Kfoks began digging out fox holes with the tilly. Trees were broken up to provide cover with small fires for fake infrared traces to confuse detectors. Shtam rigged the fusion plant of the G-carrier to detonate while Turner set up a proximity fuse coupled with a timer. Turner, Dragoon and Smith hid inside to man the guns and use its radio to jam communications. Shtam would be set off in the Gig a kilometer and a half away for emergencies. Twenty minutes after the auto distress beacon was activated, Jones' recon robot picked up a launch headed out from the mercenaries island to the battle field. - XXXII - The launch came in low over the field. A cautious vulture with its single eye of a missile turret scanning the ground as it circled over the bodies of the two fallen hawks. Infrared signals registered like a platoon down on the surface. The vulture hesitated at putting its tail feathers into such a nest. The radio sounded. "This is launch number two, we've got a battle field here... No visible survivors... Looks like enemy forces, SDB five stand by to give us a laser barrage..." Smith cut in the G-carrier's jammer. A few moments later the launch opened fire on the largest fake emplacement. Dirt and rocks leaped skyward and rained down on the concealed ambushers. Turner cut loose a blast of laser fire from the G-carrier's turret. Three fusion guns and one plasma gun blasted away at the launch as it nearly hovered over the scene. The missile turret began to swing round to bear on the captured G-carrier. A second pulse of the heavy laser found the launch. The launch was enshrouded in flame as liquid hydrogen spewed from a rupture in the fuel tank. It swerved a moment to port and brought the missile tube to bear on the G-carrier. Ens. Smith appeared on the Gig in underclothes. "Get moving! We're in trouble!" Shtam glanced sidelong at Smith. "Not only a teleport, but a blasted cute one too..." The Gig leapt under expert control. "Concentrate fire on the turret!" shouted Jietlshaiepr over the sear of plasma bolts. The missile tube was suddenly enshrouded in fire as the guns were brought to bear. "We can't touch it!" howled Gresha. Suddenly, the missile tube fired. The nose of the warhead came clear of the tube and jammed solid. The turret exploded, throwing shrapnel and flame. The launch canted off to port and swung away wobbling. The Gig blasted over the horizon blazing laser fire. The launch was caught in a hell of X-rays. The drives exploded and cut out. It screamed into the ground and rolled like a tin can. It finally ground to a halt and lay on its back in a burning mass of twisted wreckage. "Shtam, bring it on down!" shouted Jietlshaiepr, "TEAM! We are leaving!" - XXXIII - The Gig lunged toward the coast throttled back. At transonic speeds Shtam flew it over the trees at three hundred meters. Going supersonic would attract too much attention: too much heat, too much atmospheric disturbance. "If the SDBs are awake they'll spot us very soon." growled Kfoks. "The explosions back there must have howled to the whole planet." "This one is dead." announced Vole. He dragged the body of the pirate that Jietlshaiepr rescued to the air lock. Quickly, the lock was stuffed, closed and made ready to drop the body. "Let's get the other strapped into one o` the low berths." suggested Jones. "We'll get 'im set up for interog..." A dull thud resounded through the hull as one point five gigawatts of photon energy struck the ground five hundred meters aft of the fleeing Gig. "They found us!" snapped Shtam. He sent the Gig into a flurry of twisting corkscrews. Cushioned by the inertial compensators, everyone but Shtam got a smooth ride. But it's easier to maneuver when you can feel something of what you're doing. Shtam, however, only felt one tenth of one G where he should have been crushed by the force of six. Another thud managed to be heard through the sound proofing of the Gig's hull and above the howl of mach point nine six. "They're getting too close! How far to the ocean?" "Five kilometers." Shtam replied mechanically, deep in concentration as the Gig responded like a thing alive under his fingers. "I would advise you all... to... strap in... because we are going to dump... HARD..." The passengers checked their belts. Impact too fast and no inertial comps in the universe would save them. "Ten seconds..." a third thud resounded through the hull: nearer this time. Shtam whipped the Gig around and slammed the engines on full throttle. The Gig slowed as it fell toward the water. In three seconds the ship slowed from transonic speed and slammed into the water at twenty kilometers an hour. The hull rang with the jolt of the sudden stop as the strain pulled on the inertial comps. "Dive!" shouted Jietlshaiepr. Shtam dove. Their tracking systems would figure out what had happened in a few se... Something let out an eerie high pitched scream. The hull sounded like a kettle drum for a moment as the ocean was brought to a small boil around it. "Damage?" called Jietlshaiepr. Shtam hesitated, "Nothing I can see... Systems check... all green." "Their lasers can't get through water." explained Kfoks. "Yeah, we're safe, but we're stuck in the briar patch, Brer Kfoks." sighed Jones. - XXXIV - The Gig cruised at thirty kilometers an hour along the ocean bottom, making its way along the submarine canyons back to the trench that hid the Flamboyant. "All right, everyone," sighed Jietlshaiepr, "Seeing as we have little alternative but taking you to the Flamboyant. I must ask you to surrender your weapons, and the helmets to your armor." Carefully she examined the faces of the League of Suns crew. Various familiar states of distrust on unfamiliar visages. "Very well," announced Jones. He unbuckled his laser rifle and handed it to her. He seemed slightly startled when she held out a hand for his folding machine gun, but he handed it over as well. Slowly, the weapons were collected. Smith handed over her laser rifle and folding machine gun. Delt gave up her gauss rifle. Walker hesitated markedly, but gave up the PGMP-12. Dragoon came last. She ignored the collection until it came to her and then her sole response was to grip the laser rifle more tightly. Jietlshaiepr looked her over frostily, "Lt. Dragoon, please surrender your rifle." "No." "I will not allow you to come within a hundred kilometers of the ship carrying that. You can forget commandeering our ship. Try it and you won't get three paces." "Dragoon..." growled Jones. "Hand it over." "Is that an order?" "Do I have to make it one?" Dragoon thought it over, angrily staring at Jones. "Right." she breathed, "Here." The rifle was half passed, half thrown. Jietlshaiepr caught it quickly and the two froze, staring at each other. "Our soldiers do not trust each other." sighed Jones, "I would not have it any other way." Jietlshaiepr stared at Dragoon, "Indeed, such things are true of both sides." - XXXV - Once docked with the Flamboyant, sickbay was evacuated and sealed while Jietlshaiepr teleported inside to evaluate the vaccine. Jones and Smith blindfolded the prisoner and strapped him in a low berth. Normally used for cryogenic suspension in an emergency, they also made good sensory deprivation chambers. Slowly, they let him return to consciousness. Jones knelt next to the berth concentrating oddly on the instrument read out. "This human has to be a telepath..." breathed Kfoks. - XXXVI - "What?... Where am I? I was on the bridge... We crashed... I've bailed out!... Ok... I was in the raft when somebody picked me up... They took my tooth... I've been captured... Thank god for training camp... It took 'em three weeks to break me there..." The prisoner's consciousness began to drop as he went carefully and deliberately to sleep. - XXXVII - Tuerz climbed down from the airlock wearing his female costume with his fur dyed red white and black. He carried a black leather case while his jeweled laser pistol hung from its holster. He looked at the prisoner in the low berth, "Taek!" he grinned at Kfoks, "You've brought me a present!" Tuerz opened the black case to reveal a collection of knives, brass knuckles, whips, blackjacks, and scalpels. Antique thumbscrews, hand cuffs, electrodes all set carefully into the red velvet of the case. Lt. Jones peered into the case. There were several wigs in the bottom of the case. Odd wigs... They had skin attached... Jones stared at the scalps. Beautifully carved, obviously the taker had been very, very talented and very, very patient. Briefly he used his psionics to examine the instruments psychic auras. But, against the background of the scalps, the box exuded nothing but white hot searing pain. - XXXVIII - Jietlshaiepr climbed down the hatch an hour later, hypo in hand. Quickly, she raised the armored flap on Shtam's battle dress and sent the hypo home. "It appears your vaccine works without affecting traits that are not lethal." she commented. "Immunization should be complete within an hour." "Glad to hear ya confirm it." nodded Jones. "How is it going with the prisoner?" "e's been conditioned against interrogation. We're setting up a few surprises fer 'im. A combination o' sensory deprivation an' water torture: we'll 'ave him dosed wi' local anesthetic 'cept for certain parts of the body: the top o' the foot, the side o' the abdomen, the scalp, the back o' the knee... "We'll irritate these areas intermittently, every few minutes while we keep 'im conscious with stimulants. 'e won't be able te sleep. I only 'ope 'e doesn't hove the plague, if he does, we've got two days." - XXXIX - "...This is the house that Jack built... This is the rat that lived in the house that Jack built... This is the cat that killed the rat that lived in the house that Jack built... This is the dog that chased the cat that killed the rat that lived in the house that Jack built... This is the horse that chased the dog that chased the cat that killed the rat that lived in the house that Jack built.... This is the cow that chased the horse that ate the cheese that chased the cat that killed the dog that lived in the house that Jack built...." - XL - "'e's been thinking 'at fer hours." yawned Smith. The telepathic trio of Smith, Jones and Jietlshaiepr lounged around the berth containing their prisoner. "Well, let's try 'im on a different tack." sighed Jones. Jones stood, stretched himself and took a deep breath. "I'm gonna try something." He knelt by the head of the berth and opened the pirate's mind. "This is the dog that chased the cat that killed the rat that lived on the ship that Jack built." The pirate considered the interjected thought for a moment. "Ship... Ship dip... Ship fall down, go boom!..." Jones jaw dropped incredulously. "Ship fall down, go boom!?" A flash went off in the pirate's mind. He struggled against a tumbling ship to keep it aloft. A spinning world flashed by as the SDB hit the water. Panic... explosive bolts... the dead bridge crew... the raft... water.... - XLI - "...Hello, Hello? Is there anybody out there...?" The answer came back and buried itself in the prisoner's thoughts "Commander." A vision wrenched itself into his mind. The dead captain of the SDB, lying on the broken bridge. "Murdoc..." floated around his head like a child's balloon. Another picture floated in: a grey haired man in a captain's uniform, he was standing in a briefing room with a crowd of SDB pilots and captains. The map on the holotank was Welles. The Star Rider's captain was just pointing out the emergency rendezvous point at the L5 Lagrange point. A third picture came in, a fat balding man in a colonel's uniform. "McNamara..." imposed itself indignantly in the pirate's mind, with a hint of sarcasm and scorn. "Ollie Sutherland..." came abruptly in. The tone was one of frank admiration. He appeared in a major's uniform standing on the top of a grav tank with a command pennant. Male caucasian, one point eight meters tall, blonde hair closely cropped, blue eyes with a commanding presence that filled the memory of the prisoner. - XLII - "I'm going to try something..." muttered Jietlshaiepr, and she knelt close to the berth. Slowly, she called up an image in the prisoner's mind. A man with whitish blonde hair. He had whitened scars on his face and a large one encircling his neck. He wore an old battle jacket with patches ripped from past enemies corpses, and carried an ancient sub machine gun. The pirate was confused at first, then an image came up. The man stood on the hanger deck of the Star Rider, a Kinunir class battle cruiser was suspended from the locks. The name "Roland" rolled about in the prisoner's consciousness like a ball bearing in a funnel until it hit the spout. "Roland... Roland... Roland... T... Gunner... Roland T. Gunner..." - XLIII - Miakr called down from the bridge. "We've got targets!" Jietlshaiepr hit the intercom, "Where are they?" "About seven hundred kilometers south east. Heading directly west. They ought to pass within three hundred kilometers of us. Looks like three of the grav artillery platforms and a G-carrier." Shtam turned to Corporal Delt, "You said you saw two G-carriers. We just accounted for two of them." "They might hove recovered it." sighed Smith. "It sounds as though they're headed back te their island." announced Lt. Dragoon. "After doing what?" mused Kfoks, "I wonder..." "Jietlshaiepr," began Lt. Jones, "I hove a recon robot loose upstairs, observing the mercs. If we could get an antenna above the surface we could find out exactly whot they been up to." - XLIV - "...cord. Understand? DAMMIT! Are you recording this!?" The mechanical voice of the recon robot replied, "Affirmative." Crulley's voice came back, tense and worried, "Oh... Dr. Jones?... Able Spacehand Crulley 'ere... Uh... We got big trouble... The mercs killed a dozen hostages... massacred an entire town... They threaten more unless we surrender... They showed up in the capital wi' their tanks... dropped off some 'ostages..." Crulley swallowed, "They gunned 'em down. They came over on loudspeakers that unless we surrender they'll start destroyin' the towns one by one. "The people are ta hand us over ta 'em or be destroyed... They demanded us by name... If the natives don't hand us over ta them, they'll destroy the towns... "A mob came after me... I escaped, but that goddam robot of yours fired on 'em... I can't get it ta follow my orders right... It saw them trying ta attack and opened fire... I don't know how many it killed... We had ta get out of there... "Right now, I'm aboard the Pasadena, the big grav ironclad. Lucky, not everyone's lost their 'eads. But, the Welles Navy plans ta attack the mercs. Unless, we'll help 'em, they'll hove ta try handin' us over. "The recon robot should be able ta keep track o' where the Pasadena is... I 'ope... I'm sending it ta find you. I think it understands my orders. "All right, that's enough, cut it... Do you hear?... Cut it!... Understand?... STOP RECORDI!..." - VL - The plan was quickly formed. Negotiation was not even seriously considered except as a delaying tactic. Surrender was out of the question; anyone who did would undoubtedly be killed. By themselves, the ironclad flotilla would be wiped out. But, a commando strike supported by the natives in their grav ironclads might just take the mercs down a notch or two. - IVL - The interrogation of the pirate turned messy. Lt. Jones pulled him out of the low berth and stared into his mind. A search light went on over the consciousness of the man. Facts flowed from his mind like gelatin through the strainer of Jones psionic probe. Zylath, a small planet in a large asteroid belt held their operational base... The Church of the Soverinity of Sol was their recruiting office... Their main base was on... ? The man himself was from... ? They were supported by the government of... ? Their mission was to attack any and all shipping: disrupt interstellar communication. Commandeer any possible vessel for the forces of... ? All military vessels not vulnerable must be harassed. Military cargoes took priority over civilian. Use whatever force available to destroy that which can not be captured. Do not engage superior forces. If captured use the suicide capsule implanted in right upper molar. If you survive, your full memory will be restored for you, but for now absolute security must be maintained... - IIIL - Tuerz walked dejectedly into the crew lounge carrying the black instrument case. "I couldn't get any more out of him than you did." "Our friends're quite paranoid." sighed Smith. "Memory wipe's rather dangerous stuff te play wi'." Lt. Jones noticed a wet hairy rag in Tuerz hand as he played with it. It was an exceedingly familiar color. "Is 'e still alive." "Barely, though I don't think we'll get any more from him. May as well kill him." Tuerz sighed and held up the lump of hair. "Well, at least he wasn't bald." Jietlshaiepr blanched, "All right, Tuerz. Get rid of him quickly." "Flush 'im." agreed Lt. Jones. Tuerz nodded, "Well, Ok. But I won't enjoy it." - IIL - A skeleton crew was left on the Flamboyant. The rest piled into the Gig and made for rendezvous with the Welles flotilla. It was one of the strangest sights seen by man. Four ironclads steaming majestically through the air exuding black oily smoke from their stacks. "We have a better grade of coal aboard: low sulfur content, but we are saving it for the attack. For now we shall have to tolerate the smoke." Captain Colorado of the Pasadena pointed out. Nepotism aside, he was a capable officer despite his noble position: heir to the first officership of the Prague. The actual hereditary first officer, his mother was admiral of the fleet. Yet Admiral Colorado was quite old so her son truly commanded the fleet. "She's a fine ship." nodded Jietlshaiepr. "What's her flank speed?" "Forty three kilometers per hour airspeed. The smaller ships can make about fifty eight." "We'd better come in on the windward side o' their base." advised Jones. "Agreed." nodded Captain Colorado. "I've been over our charts and set course such that we should arrive on target at dawn tomorrow. We'll sweep in with the wind, and try to catch them with their defenses down." "If I can get some of my team inside one of their tanks," thought Jietlshaiepr, "they'll have plenty to keep them occupied." "How do you propose to do that?" asked Colorado disbelievingly. "I am a noble of the Zhodani Consulate. I can teleport with ease. The Droyne crew have a much better clairvoyant than I am. They will give us a view of the target and we teleport inside." "Can you handle that machine?" Colorado asked. "Lt. Gresha has operated similar tanks, I will carry her along with me. We can run it, but we'll need help." Smith interjected, "That's where I come in. Those aren't really tanks so much as mobile artillery pieces: 'eavy weapons wi' a powerful computer te back it up." "And te operate the guns there's the Droyne gunner from the Kivas, Heet Kiv. It's a teleport as well." added Jones. "I'll be going in wi' my security robot, Corporal Delt, Miakr and the robot dog Vole. We'll attack the transport ships wi' demolition packs. Thot way, we can insure none'll escape before reinforcements arrive from the League o' Suns." Captain Colorado looked Jones in the eye, "I'd be happy if they just left. As long as they're off my planet." "They'd come back." Smith pointed out. "Possibly, but not till we'd had a chance to prepare." "We must prevent 'em from striking another planet li' this one." urged Jones. "That won't bring back our dead, nor will it stop them from burning our towns to ashes." "No." admitted Jietlshaiepr, "But, it might prevent the horror from striking another world. It may well stop another holocaust." - IL - Dawn. Red sky in the morning, Sailor take warning. The ironclad flotilla cruised in low skimming the waves as they raced out of the sun to the island in tight formation. Sand spread over bright red painted decks to keep them from getting slippery with blood. Sunrise glinting off gunmetal six pounders. Grape shot and round shot standing by. Artillery rockets set up in the crow's nest. Gatling guns polished to an oily shine. Rum ration quickly drunk. Welles Navy battle ensign flapping in the wind. Signal flags: "Welles expects everyone to their duty." - L - The flotilla scattered as it soared over the beaches. Only an unnamed mountain stood between the ironclads and their target as the strike force jumped in grav belts. Jietlshaiepr relaxed to save her strength; she'd every ounce soon enough. The Droyne felt out with the combined strength of their minds. Yes, the tanks lay unmanned; unmanned and unpowered. The image burned in Jietlshaiepr. And in Smith. And in the Droyne Warrior, Heet Kiv. They were there. Jietlshaiepr puffed with the exertion and distance as she and Gresha came into existence inside the grav tank. "Vargr! What a ride!" breathed Gresha. Immediately, she scanned the controls of the mobile artillery piece. Heavy weapons, heavy power needs, heavy weight. "Find me a checklist. Fast!" She began to guess her way through the starting procedure. Can't give the thing a walk around, but they must keep it ready for action... Fusion plant starting sequence... Starting batteries... Fuel flow... Magnetic bottle... Grrracht! Where's the vacuum pumps?! "GaaaerrrrrrrRRRRR!" Capacitors discharged, pumps surged deuterium flowed, a spark began to glow in the belly of the monster. "There, now we've power to close the damn door!" she panted. "Now, all we can do is wait for full power." The view screens looked outside. Bored sentries stood outside. None looked more than half awake in the fingers of dawn. Slowly, a group walked out of a large barracks. Four comrades walked side by side towards the lead grav tank. A man and a woman flanked by two men. The man in the center: 1.85 meters tall, fair skin, short cropped blonde hair. Smith zoomed the screen in on his face. "Major Ollie Sutherland..." The crew walked over to their grav tank and embarked. A second crew began walking to the other grav tank. The hull of the lead tank shut itself. From the same barracks, two men walked out and turned to face the barracks door waiting. "How's our power?" asked Jietlshaiepr. "Thirty six megawatts and rising... We'll need about fifty two to get aloft... Thirty seven megawatts... about forty seconds, four minutes after that we'll have full power." One more figure came out of the barracks an joined the other two. The three men stood together, talking and yawning in the early light. A fourth came shaking a sleepy head. They walked toward the last grav tank: theirs. Smith glared into the tank commander's mind: "I've forgotten something..." He hesitated and started back. He got halfway back before he turned around again. He ran to catch up when the one leading the group fell flat on his face. Smith stifled a laugh as he found his shoe laces tied together. A bored sentry laughed and walked over to help him. Smith sat silent. Slowly, unnoticed, but sure and deadly, the pin worked out of one of the sentries grenades. The sentry and two of the tank crew shattered in a red cloud. The explosion echoed over the base. "Wake them, ought to." chirped Heet. One echo suddenly came louder than the others, the burst of a six pound load of grape shot as the first of the ironclads came in range. They came flying over the northern foot hills of the nameless mountain. They'd broken formation and were attacking at will. The Weehawken came first, flying low followed by the Bismark on the Weehawken's port side. To starboard drove the Laramie while the Pasadena fell behind with her inferior speed. Suddenly, the lead grav tank lifted off and moved away from the camp. "We've got flying power!" called Gresha. "Keep it on the ground." snapped Smith. "We'll play dead until we've got full power." Ollie Sutherland's grav tank began belching six centimeter shells from it's twin auto cannon. The G-carrier lifted off and opened up with a five megawatt laser. Suddenly, the Pasadena was on fire. The port bow gouted flame as iron plate melted and wood ignited. The guns were not silenced as the Pasadena took on a list to starboard. The starboard six pounder spoke in defiance and the gatling guns sniped at the mercenaries as they ran for cover. A six pound shell burst on the G-carrier's side sending it spinning. The armor plate cracked under the force of the blast opening the hull like a walnut. Inside, the two crew looked out the gaping hole in surprise before they regained control of the spinning troop carrier. An Air/Raft came whizzing in to intercept the Weehawken, death spat from a VRF gauss gun as the raft strafed the ironclad. Suddenly, the air thudded loudly with the sound of a charging heavy plasma gun. A shriek as it fired, blazing out in a deadly bolt which struck the Pasadena in the casemate. The Pasadena shattered in a blinding flash as plasma found the magazine. - LI - Niedrsha gripped the PGMP-14 tightly, and swooped up from tree top flight to intercept the G-carrier as it came out of its spin. Drert pulled up sharply to follow carrying a FGMP-14. The G-carrier was just turning to bear on the Laramie when the plasma gun blazed. A bolt of ionized plasma seared through the aft end of the G-carrier throwing molten armor plate into the air. An explosion rang from inside and flame blazed out of the hole the six pounder had gouged. A moment later it began to fall like a brick. It plowed a deep path through a glen before burying itself and exploding. Suddenly, Niedrsha's battle dress sensors went wild. The near miss indicator screamed about flying metal. He jerked his head to look as VRF gauss needles ripped his chest open. - LII - Shtam and Kfoks peeled off after the Air/Raft closely followed by Tuerz. Shtam's gauss rifle cracked 4mm death at the crew. The gunner at the VRF gauss gun suddenly went into an epileptic seizure as his body shook under the repeated impacts of supersonic gauss needles. The driver slumped when half his head exploded under the storm of X-rays from Tuerz laser pistol. The radio channel to Niedrsha and Drert was dead. - LIII - Lt. Jones, Miakr, Vole, Corporal Delt, and the security robot flew in towards the transports just above the trees. They on a different attack course from the others so they would not attract too much unwanted attention. Jones watched over his shoulder as Major Ollie's tank lined up on the now blazing Weehawken. The air shuddered as the heavy gun prepared to fire. A thousand devils screamed as it poured its hell plasma onto the ironclad. A cloud blazed as the ship disintegrated. "Corporal Delt!" shouted Jones, "Halt! Stand guard over me. The rest of you, get the charges planted!" Jones went to the ground and stared at the menacing tank as it lined up to fire on the Bismark. He wrapped his mind around one of his demolition charges. Under his determined guidance, it lifted into the air and flew towards the tank. His grip weakened as it lengthened. He struggled to keep it aloft. The air began to shudder again announcing the devil fire when the magnetic charge attached itself with a loud click. Inside, did they wonder what had hit them? Jones flicked the detonator. The grav tank was enveloped in smoke and flame. Can the charge punch a hole in that armor? As the smoke cleared, the tank began to wobble. The whine of tortured machinery sounded across the island just audible under the cannon fire. The crew cockpit was smashed open like a ripped can. Armor plates buckled around a gaping hole. The tank listed to starboard and plowed through the island growths before it ground itself to a stop. Jones and Delt lit off to investigate. - LIV - Niedrsha stood in amazement. The armored body lying before him made no sense. Lying on the ground was half a figure in Zhodani battle dress. In it's arms was a PGMP-14 apparently undamaged. On the left shoulder was written 'Niedrsha'. He glanced at himself in confusion. What am I doing lying over there dead? Suddenly, something clawed at him. The weapon in his hand... was a fusion gun...? I was carrying a plasma gun and Drert had a fusion gun... This one! He looked at his left shoulder patch: 'Drert'. With rising dread he pushed the emergency release on the dead body's helmet. It split into the two clamshell halves revealing Drert's face. - LV - "We've got full power!" shouted Gresha. "Take off!" shouted Smith, as Jietlshaiepr sat in grief and confusion. "Get us out of the blast region! We're gonna smear that tank over the horizon." The last grav tank lay rounded, still unable to get power up. A six pound shell smacked into the side of the tank and bounced harmlessly off the heavy armor plateing. "Those grreeches idiots are shooting at us!" growled Gresha. She glanced at Jietlshaiepr as she sat frozen at the controls. Not quite frozen. The air began booming as the heavy gun stewed it's plasma blast. Jietlshaiepr triggered the gun and sent the helpless grav tank to oblivion. - LVI - Lt. Dragoon, Able Spacehand Turner, and Private Walker soared in towards the mercenary command center. Dragoon's laser rifle spewed visible wavelength photons wildly as she bore in on the target singlemindedly. Figures in combat armor saw the three Valkyries blazing death at them and returned fire with light assault guns. Flechettes cascaded off the trio's armor. They weren't expecting armored targets... Walker's PGMP-12 blazed once rending limbs from two different defenders. "Look out!" screamed Turner, "Warbots: four o'clock!" Three medium Zhodani warbots, PPO series, came in at them blazing light from laser rifles. Walker glowed red for a moment and slumped. Her grav belt continued to carry her over the base. Turner dove for cover among the base buildings with a warbot on her tail. Dragoon blazed laser light of her own at the warbots. - LVII - Miakr was just approaching the transports when the warbot cry went up. "It's a blasted good thing I..." he muttered and flipped on the high powered transmitter he'd mounted on his belt. He could only guess as to the frequencies used by the robots, and Zhodani warbot security was tough. Still there was a chance... - LVIII - Lt. Jones and Corporal Delt leapfrogged over to the crash site. The tank lay on its belly, leaning on its starboard side. The main gun hung dead on its goose neck with the shredded command pennant hanging by a thread. The cockpit had been cracked and torn open by the blast. Delt covered Jones as he leaped inside with his SMG at the ready. Jones refolded the SMG into a small featureless box and attached it to his belt: no threats here. Four bodies lay in the couches. One of the three gunners were more or less intact. One's head and right shoulder were missing. The driver at first looked merely surprised. She sat slumped at the controls wide eyed and blank faced, but a steel rod had run straight through her head. Ollie Sutherland was slumped at the controls for the main gun. There was blood on his uniform and couch, but very little on him. He was deeply unconscious. Jones quickly went over him and found... nothing? Jones took a step back and came to the realization that his patient, while spattered in his own (obviously fresh) blood, was perfectly healthy. Jones slipped a tranquilizer into his blood stream. Well, if he's Ok, let's keep him. He told Corporal Delt to stand guard over the prisoner and flew off to the fray. - LIX - The warbots froze and hovered. Only one was left near Dragoon, the others had been harrying the ironclads. Dragoon looked at Walker and Turner through the pain of the laser burns on her waist and left thigh. Walker was still alive at least. Turner's combat armor was far too grotesquely melted for that diagnosis. She turned on the command center. A figure in combat armor crouched behind the doorway with a light assault gun. There was a sudden flash in the door as Dragoon's laser illuminated it. A round of high explosive blazed from a window and exploded meters from her. She paused to consider how best to send the defenders to hell, when an Air/Raft swooped in with Tuerz at the controls. Shtam sent burst after burst of VRF gauss needles into the building while Kfoks and a confused looking figure in Drert's battle dress held their fire: fusion guns would demolish the entire command building. Suddenly, the figure in the door held his hand to his ear, stood at attention, saluted, and fell woodenly. "'at's it!" came Jones's voice, "Their checking out!" Dragoon charged in. - LX - Dragoon managed to kill one of the defenders before the poison had completely finished him off. She kicked the door to the commander's office open. Nobody home? The camera system on her combat armor picked up the bomb. Lt. Jones only got a glimpse of it through the relay before Dragoon dived through a window and flew off shouting. "Everybody get clear!" he called with authority over the radio as he came barrelling in. He guessed it was only a kiloton but that was enough. Jietlshaiepr's commanding voice came over the circuit. "Stuzzel, get that Gig in here. Miakr, drop the charges and get on the Gig. Tuerz, take Turner on board the Air/Raft and get on the Gig. We'll take Walker in the tank. Delt, carry the prisoner to the Gig. Kfoks, warn the Laramie. Niedrsha?" "Yeah, I'm here, I guess..." came a bewildered voice. Her voice softened, "You warn the Bismark. Just tell them to get clear of the island as fast as they can. Ok?" "I... got it." he answered. Jones swooped into the control building. The rest swooped off to obey orders. - LXI - Surgeon Lt. Jones sweated over the operation. The patient was a very delicate one and exploratory surgery was dangerous for patient and surgeon alike. Three digit numbers clicked by as he worked. One zero four... I'd never make it if I left now... Contrary to popular fiction, when facing danger, one's life does not pass before ones eyes, one just keeps working up until the bomb explodes or the vehicle crashes or death in whatever of its myriad forms hands you your bill and will only take cash. Zero six three... Jones was oblivious to all save the detonator and its attendant systems. He didn't even notice Jietlshaiepr's hands on his shoulders as she prepared herself to teleport them both out. Zero two six... Jietlshaiepr monitored her troop as they submerged at extreme range, at least Niedrsha would be safe... If it was Niedrsha...? Zero one four... She began to muster the last of her psionic strength... Zero zero nine... Could she teleport them both far enough? Zero zero eight... She had too... Zero zero seven... Pop! Jones shivered. Zero zero seven... Jones collapsed in mirth. Applause sounded behind them. Jietlshaiepr dove over the office desk and whirled around with her gauss pistol aimed at the unknown audience. A blank videoscreen was activated on the other side of the office. Its camera was facing them as the screen's speaker sounded the applause. "Very good! Very good!" called a saccharine voice. Jones recognized the leader's voice from the mind probe of the pirate. He exchanged glances with Jietlshaiepr. "Glad ya enjoyed it Colonel McNamara." he responded cheerily. "Oh, I did very much Lieutenant... Jones isn't it?" responded the disembodied sweet malevolence, "What do you do for an encore?" "We win." stated Jietlshaiepr simply. "Now this IS unusual isn't it?" came the voice with an audible smirk. "Zhodani teleport commandoes working with the League of Suns Naval Intelligence? Not something you see every day..." "No, just every other Thursday." smiled Jones as he began ransacking the desks and gathering up papers and computer disks. "Or when we find a common enemy." added Jietlshaiepr. "Me? Common?" laughed McNamara, "Anyway I suggest you consult the nearest Consular embassy to find out who the enemy is." "You DESTROYED the Consulate embassy on this planet." she reminded him icily. Jones turned and walked out carrying the documents he'd gathered. "Listen." whispered the speaker, "You've just destroyed a Consular backed secret project. The League spy just walked out of that office with enough evidence to link the Consulate to this operation. You must kill the spies before they find out and destroy that evidence, else we are all doomed." "Prove it." "I can't. But their sure to try to sabotage your ship. Kill them before they kill you. We'll take their bodies and allow your ship to escape. Now, move! An SDB is on the way to raze that base in twenty four minutes. And what ever you do, don't let the transport ships be damaged!" - LXII - Miakr started picking up scrambled communications as they approached in the Gig. He and Shtam began struggling with the computer coding systems. At last McNamara's voice came out "...out three thousand credits? Would that disturb your memory sufficiently?" Lt. Jones voice answered, "If yer goin' to insult our loyalties, ya might at least make it an interestin' insult." "Four thousand... How much do Lieutenants and Ensigns make in the Navy eh?" "More 'an that." answered Smith. "All right, seven thousand." "Yer not even in the right order o' magnitude." declared Jones boredly. "All right. Name it then. Name your own price." One could hear Jones smile, "Oh, at least... twenty thousand." "Done. But for that much I..." "That's twenty thousand fer each of us." amended Smith. ...Pause... "Very well. But for that much, I want no one to have heard of this, including your Zhodani friends." "Who said they were our friends?" asked Smith. "In addition to your report being... incomplete, I want all the documents you took returned, any prisoners released, the two transport ships untouched, AND you must destroy the Zhodani ship." "Dragoon would enjoy that." commented Smith. "I think that might cost ya something extra." cautioned Jones. "Oh? and may I remind you of the captives my men have taken? What is the count?... Oh yes... Two thousand six hundred and fifty one captives, young women between the ages of eleven and twenty four. Surely, you don't want them burned down with the island do you?" "'old on a moment." said Jones. A radio detonator sat waiting boredly. Suddenly, it heard its call to destiny. The fuel tanks of the two transport ships wired up by Miakr and Vole ruptured spilling compressed liquid hydrogen over the cargo decks and vaporized instantly. Pressure swelled momentarily inside the ships then a second charge ignited the inflammable mix of hydrogen and oxygen. Both ships became bombs which leaped skyward scattering the hulls to the winds. "NOW it's a deal." confirmed Jones. "Not really, you've just lost your biggest bargaining chip, and my patience." - LXIII - They quickly got the transmitter's range and bearing. It lay on the surface of the water twenty nine kilometers away and running. Radar could just barely make out the exposed dorsal section of a scout ship. They took off in the Gig in pursuit, but the ship submerged. They flew over the prisoners quarters where the mercenaries captives sat. They would have to wait evacuation, the Gig was overcrowded before, now it was doubly so with the unconscious Major Ollie Sutherland, and the four warbots Miakr had taken control of. Neither of the two surviving ironclads could carry passengers. Surely, not even the pirates would... - LXIV - They monitored the bombardment of the island from the Flamboyant. It lasted four hours. Nothing could have survived. The SDB was joined in it's mission by the Fanzheinz class trader. The island was leveled. Two thousand, six hundred and fifty one... - LXV - The League of Suns party was meekly disarmed and under guard. Smith worked on setting Sutherland up for interrogation. Jones and Jietlshaiepr got to work treating the wounded. Lt. Dragoon was only lightly wounded. A laser had seared away the armor on her abdomen leaving third degree burns. There was a similar burn on her left thigh. Pvt. Walker was more seriously hurt. A section of her left arm had been literally burned away. A first rate hospital would probably have removed the remains of arm and started regeneration techniques. The Flamboyant had good facilities but nothing that could start a treatments like that. "We'll just have to try the old fashioned way." mumbled Jietlshaiepr. Turner was dead, but her body could be used. Jones didn't bother giving it a second thought. "Right, take what ya need if the tissue type's compatible. I may need some tissue myself fer skin grafting." They got to work. Dragoon insisted on a local anesthetic to watch Jones. She also insisted that the burn on her abdomen be left ungrafted: she liked the pattern. Slowly, Jietlshaiepr rebuilt Walker's arm. The entire left biceps was gone as was brachial artery and a good section of nerve, but Turner's tissue type proved compatible. Bone grafting proved unnecessary as the humerus was intact. When it was over, Jietlshaiepr and Jones collapsed. - LXVI - Jietlshaiepr staggered through the door to her darkened stateroom. Niedrsha sat on the side of the bed staring at his hands. She watched him closely for a moment. He was a full eighteen centimeters taller than before... His face was... changing... It looked as though someone had grafted his head onto Drert's body. She stepped quietly to him and took his hand. His hands were larger... the veins and tendons less distinct... maybe a bit more hair on the back. What about the rest of him?... What about his mind? Niedrsha was totally drained: as though some one had switched off all the emotions in his brain with the casual attitude of flicking a light switch. He stared down at his hands not wanting to meet her eyes. Finally, it was he who broke the silence. "I pulled Drert out of the armor. He's ready for burial..." "I'm sorry." was all she could manage. "I got a good look at 'em when I pulled the armor off." He looked up with scared eyes. "It's *My* body that's... dead. But I'm here... This is his... I'm... him?" She sat next to him and pulled his head to her shoulder. She looked closely at him. He was right. All the subtle unique things about his body had changed... More heavily muscled... Slightly more hirsute... but it was Niedrsha's head that leaned on her shoulder. Slowly, through the fog, he realized she was shaking. He shifted and held her closely, she continued to shake. Dimly, he realized his shoulder was growing wet. "What...?" "Everyone... Dead. Drert... Turner... Crulley... The Pasadena... The Weehawken... The Shoolist... Two thousand girls... Two *thousand*!..." Her voice dropped, "Never mind the three million they killed with their virus..." She looked him in the eye with tears on her face. "And... I... nearly lost... *You*..." She drew a half sobbed breath, "Are you really Niedrsha?" She clung tightly to him as she sobbed herself to sleep. What seemed hours later, Niedrsha numbly realized he was on the verge of unconsciousness from fatigue. "Hmmm. I'm exhausted. I suppose I should sleep." He fell asleep with Jiet's question rattling around in his (or was it Drert's?) brain. - LXVII - Slowly, they brought Major Ollie Sutherland to consciousness. Jones read his mind as he came back inside the sensory deprivation chamber. Anger... Aggression... Hate... Kill... seeped from the semiconscious mind as it rose toward full consciousness. Suddenly, all went blank. Ollie had put up a psi shield. "Well, it explains 'is lack of wounds." sighed Jones, "'e must be able te regenerate 'imself psionically." "Ok." nodded Jietlshaiepr, "He's psionic. Well, he's not a teleport, or he'd not be here. The question is, does he know any other psionic disciplines?" - LXVIII - An hour later, Vole reported that Ollie's shield was down. Jones read his mind. A picture came through, a picture of the inside of the Gig where he was standing. "All right he's clairvoyant." nodded Smith. "That'll ruin our sensory deprivation work." Jones shook his head. "Not necessarily. Might take longer, bu' surely the deprivation'll wear 'im down regardless." - LXIX - A neural activity sensor was left pointed at Ollie. The moment he lowered his shield and showed on the detector, a telepath was there to read his mind. Jietlshaiepr, Smith and Jones worked in four hour shifts. Every three or four hours the neural activity sensor went off. A picture began to emerge: the Gig... the ship... the bridge... the engine room... the hold... the turrets... the Vipers in their bays... It was then that Lt. Jones suggested putting a guard on the fighter bays. - LXX - It was near the end of Ens. Smith's watch when the sensor went off again. Stuzzel looked over at her boredly. He was guarding her. The Flamboyant crew hadn't totally believed that Smith and Jones had been trying to fool whoever had been on the other side of the radio conversation. She looked into a mind that was full of anger and hate and was gripping someone by the throat. Suddenly, her consciousness was fading. She reeled over into the chair she'd just stood up from. Stuzzel dropped his ACR and clutched his own throat. As she lost conciousness, she saw the low berth open of its own accord and Major Ollie Sutherland step out. - LXXI - Miakr was bored. He'd been standing in the corridor outside the lower fighter bay for five hours and was *bored*. One of the captured warbots could do the job very easily if he could readjust the command recognition programming and the recognition program... fairly easy stuff but it tends to take ones whole attentio... An iris valve opened. Ah, company... ACR slugs caught him as he turned. The gauss pistol spat in reply but shock and pain spoiled his aim as he fell to the deck. Alarms began to blare. A minute later, Lt. Jones was leaning over him examining the wounds as Shtam went for the fighter bay hatch. Already one could hear the bay flooding with water as the fighter was prepared for release. Shtam punched the intercom. "He's escaping in Viper number two. Kfoks, launch in number one immediately. We've got to get the Flamboyant powered up and ready for anything. All hands: battle stations." He turned and ran to his engines. - LXXII - Kfoks ran his fingers over the Viper's console. "Bridge, give me emergency starting power!" The power lines surged with the power necessary for a powered kindle fire in the fighter's fusion plant. Quickly, the plant reached threshold and Kfoks hit the starter. "Lucky he took Stuzzel's Viper, Tuerz always keeps his ship preflighted for emergencies. Bless his minescule, paranoid, psychopathic heart!" The cables dropped automatically as Kfoks called for release. Water poured in over the Viper and the upper hatch opened. Slowly, the Viper rose from the bay into the black waters. The tiny fighter was blind. None of her sensors worked underwater unless you counted landing lights as sensors. "Well, I can't talk to the Flamboyant for directions, but he wouldn't be sticking around down here anyway..." He pushed for full power and began to rise slowly as the power plant rose to meet the demand. By the time the plant was at capacity, he could see the surface of the ocean overhead. He burst from the water like a flying fish and sparkled in the sun. The Viper opened her eyes. "Tally ho!" The sensors picked out the fleeing target. Bearing: nine six degrees. Speed: One point oh five kilometers per second. Range: Fifty two kilometers. Quickly, Kfoks line up his target lock on radar. Incoming radar pulses on me!... He flipped on the EMS jammer and threw the Viper into a series of spiralling zig zags away from the illuminating radar. Quickly he was free from the searchlight and returned his concentration to pursuit and attack. Radar lock... now... Ladar... Missile away!... The missile blazed in on the fleeing target which dipped and screamed off wildly dodging to the south and then nose down and went for the deck. The missile sped past close but missed. The enemy Viper rolled over and resumed its flight. The radio squawked, "Any ships in orbit, this is Major Sutherland. I've escaped from the enemy vessel, requesting assistance. Over." "Roger, Major we're reading you. What do you need? Over." Kfoks kicked on the radio jammer and lined up on target. A second missile sped away on course to the fleeing Viper. With the radio jammer on he was screaming his location, but if that bastard managed to call in fire from orbit... Sutherland dodged and pulled up sharply into the clouds. The missile sped after him. Kfoks watched the clouds as he flew towards them and waited. No sign of impact. On radar the targets converged. Kfoks fired his third missile as he blazed toward the targets. The second missile blazed by the twisting craft. Then Sutherland spun her around to bear on Kfoks. The laser sensor horn blared. Damn, Ollie had a good lock on him. A piercing sound went through Kfoks ears: Enemy missile launch. He rolled the controls into a twisting turn that fought the inertial compensators. The Viper responded like a thing alive while the missile homed in on him. Kfoks cut the jammers and put the Viper on its tail, climbing straight up at a kilometer a second. He threw it into a corkscrew that sent the missile off. It flew by fifty meters from the twisting fighter. Kfoks flipped his charger back toward his adversary. Radar sweep negative. Vrassssh! Have I lost him? He spun back on Ollie's previous bearing: niner six. He peeled back the Viper's eye lids and checked the sky. Nothing... Nothing... Nothing... Nothing... A smudge...? A faint trace ran across the radar screen. IR made it out as about three thousand degrees... Falling fast... Finally, the wreckage fell into the sea. - LXXIII - Kfoks met Tuerz on his way back. Tuerz had taken the Gig off in pursuit shortly after Kfoks but had been left behind by the airfoil streamlining of the Vipers and the slow power build up of the larger power plant. "Are you sure you got the bastard? Over." "Negative, I didn't see it hit, but I picked up what looked like falling wreckage. Couldn't have survived if I hit him. Over." "You'd better have! He's killed Stuzzel! His throat's been crushed!" - LXXIV - Sensor readings by the Flamboyant were more definite. The target had been hit. They were also certain that the two SDBs and Fanzheinz class trader were positioning themselves in orbit over the Flamboyant just inside laser range. Then they picked it up. On the other side of Welles a fusion plant was climbing to full power; the scout ship they'd spotted on the surface was lifting off. At Smith's suggestion they went over every system of the ship. Ollie was a clairvoyant telekinetic and had had access to every part of the ship. God knows what mischief he might have left behind. - LXXV - Jietlshaiepr came to the lounge still in her bathrobe. The escape had started during her off watch. Shtam made his report first. The main circuit breakers to the laser batteries had been pulled. Hap hazard sabotage, but enough to silence the lasers and easy enough for the weak strength of low power telekinesis. Gresha had uncovered much nastier stuff. One of the missile tube indicator lights had been shorted along with the outer door. If they had opened the tube to reload, the ship would have been flooded. Ens. Smith had rapidly recovered from being throttled, but Stuzzel's larynx had been crushed. Miakr had taken two slugs in the chest which Lt. Jones and Vole were removing at the moment. "All in all it could have been much worse." admitted Jietlshaiepr, "Poor Stuzzel, what a bastard..." - LXXVI - Gresha looked up from the sensors. "I was right Jiet." her tail wagged with pride, "They're headed out. All four ships proceeding to jump point at one G acceleration." Jietlshaiepr put her arm around Gresha's shoulders and gazed into the sensor read out. "Zhdantva!" she breathed, "It's over!" The pirate flotilla docked with the SDBs at jump point. The SDB power plants throttled back to minimum and were lost on their cometary courses. Then the two starships jumped. - LXXVII - The Flamboyant made a brief appearance at Welles Starport. Captain Billy the third, aged fourteen or fifteen, gave the crew faint praise for their efforts. It seemed that the Laramie and the Bismark had already reported the outcome of the battle. The planetary ruler didn't seem to care overly much who had won the battle, just as long as he didn't have to worry about it. Now that Fleet Admiral Colorado had died aboard the Pasadena, the Captain had lost his regent. The next in line was the hereditary Fourth Officer of the Warsaw, Commander Loren Farnsworthy, captain of the Bismark. Fortunately, Commander Farnsworthy was far more capable than the hereditary Captain. She would see to the reconstruction of the planet, and promised Jietlshaiepr that The League of Suns was not the only place help would be appealed to. The Zhodani Consulate Embassy would be appealed to. The Droyne crew would stay as unofficial Consular representatives while awaiting the return of the Chekbas. They were, after all, Consular citizens, and the Droyne cruiser would carry the formal request for aid to the sector capitol at Massina. The League of Suns, however, was much closer and could render aid more swiftly and would be very interested in strengthening its borders. Still, Farnsworthy did not seem to be one to let her planet be annexed by friend or foe (all the better for the distant Consulate.) The captured grav tank was handed over to the locals as a joint gift from the League and Consulate lest their antagonists return. It could not be carried by the Flamboyant, though the captured Air/Raft hardly made up for the loss of the Viper and the VIXEN. - LXXVIII - "Well, whot's yer next move, Jietlshaiepr?" asked Lt. Jones. "Oh, we're going to see if anything is salvageable from the VIXEN, if we can find it. It was left adrift. It may still have some useful material aboard." "An' then?" prompted Ens. Smith. "I don't really think you need to know that." smiled Jietlshaiepr, "Mostly I'll be glad to leave before your rescue party can show up and detain us. But after we leave I see no reason for you to know where we go. "It has a been pleasure working with you," she continued while shaking hands with them, "but now I must leave." Jones smiled. "Till we meet again..." He paused and left the last words unspoken, "On Zylath..."