by C M Dancha
“Sam, in the last week or so, have there been any reports of Feltte Six Interceptors lost or destroyed in space?”
“Not that I can think of, Officer Morg. Nursing Jimmy back to health only takes so much time each day so I’ve had a lot of time to catch up on listening to the news.”
“That’s very strange, Sam. You should…”
“Oh, wait a minute. About a week ago, Luna said a Wanted posting and reward went up around Feltte Six. It wanted information leading to the capture of Yandan ship E64, something-or-other. I saw the same thing in a news flash. The reward was astronomical, but I don’t remember anything about lost or destroyed interceptors.”
“Interesting? How much was the reward?”
“I don’t remember because I only saw the news flash one time. That’s it. One time and then not another word about it. Normally, with a big reward, you hear the flash over and over. However, this was one time and then nothing. I thought it was weird at the time, but if you only hear something like that once, you forget about it fast.”
Morg expected Sam to ask if the posting by the Feltte Six authorities pertained to his ship. When she didn’t, Morg figured she was either afraid to ask or decided it was none of her business.
“Yeah, I know what you mean, Sam.” Morg was too busy processing Sam’s information about the Wanted posting to make more small talk. The fact that the posting appeared once and then disappeared was very strange. He could only come up with one reasonable explanation. Someone paid off the Feltte Six authorities to drop the issue. Nothing else made sense and fit all the facts.
As Sam rambled on, Morg kept trying to poke holes in his theory. The cost of buying Feltte Six silence would be huge. There were very few governments or ruling families in the universe with that much purchasing power. Considering the situation, his home planet of Yanda was the likely candidate. But, would they shell out that much hush-money? Was the Earthling worth that much? Morg could imagine the turmoil amongst the Trifect when making this decision. He thanked his ancestors he wasn’t anywhere near Headquarters when this was debated. He didn’t want to think about what the Trifect must think of him now. They gave him the simple assignment of getting the Earthling back to his home planet and it exploded into a fiscal nightmare. And, it was all due to a goof-ball from Earth who created havoc and chaos everywhere he went.
“Sam, thanks for the intel. I’ll contact you in a week or…”
“Officer Morg, did you hear what I said?”
“Huh? I’m sorry, Sam. I was thinking about something else. What did you say?”
“There were other beings asking about you and your shipmate. They came into the blind pig a few days ago and started asking questions. Officer Morg, they wanted to know specifically about you. They offered Cannis capsules to anyone providing information which led to your whereabouts.”
“Do you know anything about them?”
“Well, I didn’t see them, but Luna said they were three of the ugliest looking females she has ever seen. She thought they were Athlon women; about six and a half-foot tall and weighing close to 260 pounds. They had the typical Athlon rust-colored complexion with dark peach-fuzz covering their faces. And, the really strange thing was that they were wearing body armor.”
It wasn’t unusual for Athlons to gravitate toward high-risk, high-reward professions. Dangerous jobs, where the pay was extremely high, were fine with them. Mercenary, bounty hunter, munitions deactivator were perfect fits for the thrill-seeking Athlons. But, Morg never heard of female Athlons seeking out these dangerous jobs. In fact, it was customary for female Athlons to stay at home to raise the young and run the household. In the entire universe, it was hard to find a planet where the family structure was more traditional.
“Sam are you sure they were female?”
“That’s what Luna…”. Sam stopped in mid-sentence when distracted by something outside of the transceiver’s field of vision. “Wait a minute, Officer Morg. Luna just came in.”
“Luna, come over here. Officer Morg is on the trans.”
Thirty seconds later, Morg was looking at two of the most beautiful women in the universe. Both had crystal clear complexions and perfectly formed mouths. Their chiseled, high cheekbones and petite, narrow noses reminded Morg of the goddesses revered in ancient cultures. Yet, their differences added as much to their beauty as the similarities. One had raven black hair, eyelashes, and eyes. The other had hair, eyelashes, and eyes which were almost void of color. If an artist had to paint this woman, he would have used a soft, eggshell color.
“Officer Morg, how nice to see you again. If I remember correctly, you weren’t feeling any pain the last time I saw you in the blind pig.”
Public displays of emotion weren’t common for Yandans, but Luna’s description of Morg’s evening in the blind pig was spot on. Her comment made him bashful, shy, and embarrassed all at once. He knew the temporal gills on his neck had faded from their normal forest green to mild pink. There wasn’t anything he could do about it. This is what happened when Yandans were complimented or swooned over by the opposite sex.
Morg gave a typical Yandan smile which was barely noticeable. “Luna, I didn’t have a chance to thank you for watching over Jimmy and me that night. And, thanks for taking in Jimmy and Sam. You saved their lives.”
“No problem. What can I do for you?”
“Sam said that you waited on some rough-looking Athlon women one night who were seeking information about me. Is that true?”
“That’s what happened. I wish you could have seen these Athlon women, Officer Morg. They were mean, foul, and smelled terrible. They scared the hell out of me.”
“And, they asked about me?”
“Only you, Officer Morg. No one else. And, they seemed to know a lot about you. In fact, they had a halovision of you. They were showing it around the blind pig looking for anyone who knew you.”
Morg was stunned. Where the hell did these Athlon women get a halovision from? In his entire life, there were no more than three halovisions taken of him. Yandan soldiers, especially officers, were under strict rules to avoid halovisions. It was for their own safety. Too many Yandan officers were targeted and assassinated because their halovisions were available to the enemy. Morg forced himself back to the conversation. He could think about the halovision dilemma later.
“Interesting. What else can you tell me about them, Luna?”
Luna looked up and to her right thinking back to that night in the blind pig.
“There were two other things, Officer. These Athlon women were wearing body armor, which I thought was very strange. And, I overheard them say several times, Crex or Blex or something like that.”
Morg stared, bleary-eyed, at the two women. It would have been easy looking at these beautiful creatures for hours, but they were the furthest thing from his mind. He was stunned when Luna mentioned the halovision. Now, he was numb. But, for the first time during the conversation, things were starting to fall into place.
When he recovered his faculties, he said, “Ladies, thank you for this information. You have been very helpful. Be careful and take care of Jimmy.”
Morg broke the communication, sat back in his gyro-chair, and started to piece together what he learned. Two hours later he concluded there were at least five beings after him and the Earthling. Two were rogue enforcement agents from Feltte Six. They didn’t give a damn about the rulers of the planet taking bribes to forget the loss of five interceptors and their crews. The enforcers were out to kill Morg and the kid and were not going to take orders from anyone above. They wanted revenge for the loss of their mate, and nothing was going to stop them.
He wasn’t sure, but he pegged the other three assassins on his trail as the daughters of Crex, Blex, and Stex. It had been over twenty years, but he vaguely remembered the mercenaries talking about their daughters. By happenstance, the girls were born within three months of each other. One night at a battle victory party, they laughed and made jokes for hours
about the birthing coincidence. That was also the same party where Morg allowed himself to be halovisioned along with his three mercenary buddies.
Putting this mystery together had taken a lot of mental exertion. He needed to get some sleep and rebuild his energy level. The five assassins scouring the universe for them would be testing his energy level in the very near future. If there was one thing he learned from decades of combat, it was to be well-rested before battle. Let the enemy be fatigued. Good decisions before and during battle belonged to the combatant who was energized and thinking clearly.
Morg set the ship’s autopilot and lumbered off to his sleeping quarter. Maybe a dream would reveal how to avoid being killed by any one of these assassins.
The kid was dumbfounded by what he learned from Morg’s communication with the two women. For the first time, he was momentarily sorry for the deaths he caused on Feltte Six. The sorrow didn't last long. After all, the purpose of the amusement park planet was to provide an outlet for killing or taking part in any desired vice.
He hadn’t done anything wrong other than pick victims who were untouchables or had vengeful relatives. He got up and prepared to go out to the bridge and look at the stars. He had been cooped up too long in his quarters avoiding Morg’s prying interrogation. He wasn't going to worry about the crazy assassins. Between Morg and himself, the assassins would be neutralized. In fact, it would be fun having something to do during the remainder of the flight.
As he shut down the eavesdropping system, a cutesy computerized voice asked, “First Comrade Joe, which option do you prefer? Would you like to turn off the system or continue monitoring the subject, Officer Morg, on autocue?”
The kid mumbled under his breath, “Shit. What a dummy I’ve been.” He now realized the time he put into memorizing the location of each bug was wasted time. There was no need to manually track a subject. The system could track any subject automatically. All he had to do was name the subject.
The Earthling waited until he heard the sawing vibrations of the Yandan’s sleep before leaving his private quarters. He whispered into the eavesdropping system, “Autocue, subject Morg”. He then tiptoed out to the bridge for some stargazing and strategic planning. The main subject to think about was the overthrow of his father and the Yandan empire without getting himself and Beth killed.
14
Commander Fritase arrived at Ziptowtheon in record time. The Shooting Star 38 was the fastest ship in the Yandan space fleet. It was also an experimental ship in its last stages of development. The Lead Trifect intentionally forgot to tell Fritase his trip would be the Shooting Star’s first long-range voyage.
This new ship was the brainchild of Yandan physicists who figured out how to move a warship through space faster than the speed of light. They did this by folding over the absence of light two, three, or even four times. The 38 was then pulled through space at a rate far beyond the rate achieved by using only one band of disappearing light. The speed of this new ship was remarkable and the fact it arrived at its destination in one piece was astounding. And, so far, the test pilots survived the extreme speed. Not one disintegrated or was turned inside-out.
Before leaving Yanda, the Commander was given a hasty training session on how to fly the 38. There wasn’t much to do when traversing long distances over one light year. Sit back, enter the destination coordinates and prepare for one hell of a ride. In a day or two, the 38 covered the same distance it took a transport to travel in weeks.
That’s precisely what the Commander did. The coordinates provided by Officer Morg, through an unidentified party, were 2323565-505-897. Fritase needed to get close enough to these coordinates to observe any activity, yet, far enough away to be transparent to prying spy systems.
He sat stationary at coordinates 2323565-506-899, roughly one quadrant away from the location provided by Morg. He was playing a game of cat-and-mouse waiting to observe any unusual activity. No other ships, way-stations, satellite beacons, or buoys were within his range. If Morg’s transport was receiving an overhaul here, it must be by a mobile crew. But where were they?
Other than life support and nominal energy systems, the 38 was lifeless and undetectable. Without transmitting its signature warning beacon, there was a chance another ship could collide with it. The Commander decided to take this chance and remain hidden.
Verbal communication to Yanda and any type of audio noise on the 38 was prohibited unless there was an emergency. Dead silence was a necessity. When the Commander moved through the ship, it was done with deliberate forethought. He wore special clothing and shoes to deaden the noise created by moving his bulky and scaly body.
He stared aimlessly out the observation window for hours. He was wide awake because he slept most of the voyage. Other than a few shooting stars, the view was stunning, yet boring. Thankfully, he didn’t have to rely entirely on visual sight. The 38 was equipped with a highly-sensitive recognition system which detected the slightest movement within two quadrants. Any moving object was shown as a caricature on a large visualizer screen projected three yards from the pilot’s gyro chair.
Hour after hour went by without any suspicious activity. The Commander’s mind began to wander. He recalled fond memories of his mate and day-dreamed of their future retirement together. When those thoughts faded, he replayed every battle he led invasion troops into. He knew it would be hard giving up the action and excitement of leading superbly trained troops to victory and death.
As the Commander daydreamed and fantasized, the rebellion leaders met on Ziptowtheon. They were going over last-minute details of their plan to deal with the newly arrived warship. They weren’t certain whose ship it was but had a good idea it was either Yandan or from an allied planet in the empire. Luckily, their listening orbs heard it arrive like a thundering herd of Treslonian Muck Buffalos. The ripple-vibrations caused by it coming to a screeching stop alerted Ziptowtheon to the uninvited guest.
The Crelon was the unofficial leader of the rebellion group. He took over when First Comrade Joe was gone, collecting intelligence, and devising schemes. “Comrades, it appears that First Comrade Joe was right. The arrival of this unidentified ship means that someone is suspicious and has decided to check out our location. It’s likely the spy ship belongs to the Yandans or one of their allies.”
The Yandan co-conspirator joined the discussion. “We should have killed the Yandan invasion trooper when he arrived with the First Comrade. I grew up on Yanda and I can pick out the fanatics who believe Yanda does no wrong. That one, Morg or whatever his name is, fits the bill perfectly. He is a crazed loyalist. I’ll say it again, we should have killed him.”
“That’s what I thought at first but killing him would have brought more attention to us. Plus, we would be giving up a valuable source of inside information. With the First Comrade monitoring everything the Yandan does, we’ll learn valuable intelligence about what the Trifect is planning. I'm sure the scrambled message Morg sent out to a private comm number was why the First Comrade anticipated the arrival of a spy ship.”
The Crelon paused to let the other three co-conspirators digest his opening thoughts. “I don’t think we need to overreact. Even if Morg told the Trifect about a continuously cloaked planet, who would believe him? And, on top of that, why would the Trifect think a cloaked planet was part of an invasion force? There is no reason for them to believe we are sneaking up on their main bases intending to overthrow their empire.” The Crelon chuckled under his breath and added, “Ya know, the whole thing even sounds preposterous to me and I’m one of the leaders of this rebellion. No, fellow comrades, we have to keep our heads and follow First Comrade Joe’s plans.”
The Earthling co-conspirator entered the conversation. “How did the Yandan ship get here so fast?”
“I don’t know. Maybe they had an interceptor close by on routine maneuvers. It’s hard to say. We won’t know until we execute our plan. So, let’s go over the plan one more time to make sure everything is in place.”<
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Within twenty minutes, the four co-conspirators were satisfied they understood First Comrade Joe’s plan and were ready to move forward.
The Crelon leaned over the meeting table and spoke into the transceiver. “Please send in Comrades JoJo and Tookie.”
JoJo was the first through the door. He bounced into the room with such enthusiasm the Crelon wished First Comrade Joe had picked someone else for the highly sensitive and dangerous mission. It wasn’t easy finding revolutionaries like JoJo who were willing to give their soul and body to overthrowing the Yandan empire.
The little lavender fur-ball strutted up to the meeting desk, saluted and bowed to each member of the rebellion council. “Comrade JoJo at your service, sirs.”
Before the Crelon could welcome the little guy, all eyes in the room shifted to Tookie, the Communications Center supervisor who complained about every little detail of his job and life. Rather than enter the room with conviction, Tookie slinked in trying to avoid everyone’s gaze and attention. His face betrayed his intention. He planned to talk his way out of this assignment, whatever it was. He never volunteered for anything and didn’t have an ounce of heroism, like JoJo. He avoided conflict at all cost. He was perfectly happy following strong leaders who were willing to sacrifice themselves. If there was ever a time in his life he wished to be invisible, it was at this moment.
“Comrade Tookie, please have a seat next to Comrade JoJo.”
The Crelon didn’t bother to introduce Tookie to the members of the co-conspirators group. Because the mission was very secretive, it was best Tookie not know the identities of anyone other than JoJo.
“Gentlemen let’s get right to your mission. You will be flying an exact replica of the Yandan transport First Comrade Joe and his fellow traveler arrived in. Everything about this replica has been retrofitted to look and perform exactly like their transport. The shadow drive system has been fine-tuned to produce a flight signature almost identical to the original transport. And, it's re-labeled with the E647 identifier code. Your mission is to leave Ziptowtheon, set in a flight pattern for Earth and pretend to be First Comrade Joe’s transport.”
