by GARY DARBY
He stopped and worked his mouth, unable to speak.
The older man fixed Dason with a penetrating stare. “Your father’s name is known for both good and evil in the Star Scouts.
“Fortunate or unfortunate, it is the legacy he has left you. You have just begun your own, and the question you must answer is what will be your legacy?”
He sighed. “Someday, you will know for yourself what the oath means.” He leaned forward, staring intently at Dason. “Just don’t wait too long in finding out.”
With that, the Scoutmaster stood, straightened himself and commanded, “Return to duty, Novice Scout.”
Dason’s elapsed time from the Scoutmaster’s desk to the door and out could be measured in milliseconds and the vacuum he left behind was enough that anyone standing too close would have been sucked out the door right behind him.
As he flew down the corridor he wondered how close Tarracas had come to releasing him from the program, but he didn’t care to push his luck and find out.
He was across the school’s central courtyard before he pulled up and turned to stare at the cream colored domes of the office complex.
Tarracas hadn’t answered his question; what had happened to the striplings? Dason had never known the Scoutmaster to do anything without good reason.
Tarracas had given him a message, but what?
Chapter Six
Star Date 2433.055
Private Hunting Preserve, Amazonia, Terra
Easing up ever so carefully lest he alert the monstrous ten-meter-tall Allosaur to his presence, Adiak Peller, Head Minister in the Secretariat to the Imperium’s High Council, pressed the laser rifle into his shoulder and took careful aim.
Nearby, other Allosaurs waded through the marsh but Peller wanted this one; it was the herd’s alpha, and for him, no other trophy would suffice.
Peller could hear a soft swuusshh as the animal breathed in and out. A smile curved his lips in anticipation of a clean shot through the beast’s violet-tinted right eye and out the left.
A shot anywhere else but into the reptile’s puny brain would only result in a wild stampede that might catch him and his companions in the open.
Of course, that was a chance you took, but it was well worth the risk if you brought down a brute such as this one with one clean shot.
Bending down, the giant animal whipped its head to one side. The cracking of bone and the ripping of muscle and tendon disturbed the stillness.
Up came the monstrous head, a leg from a just-killed Crososaur flopping out of its incisor-lined mouth. The thing chomped once, threw back its head and swallowed the sheep-sized leg whole.
Peller wrinkled his nose at the overpowering fetid stench of lizard blood that wafted over the air. He leaned one elbow on the downed tree to support his firing side.
Ignoring the tiny whisper of a moth’s fluttering wings just beside his cheek, he lowered the shooting sight to center on the beast’s unblinking eye.
He placed his finger on the trigger button. “Can’t miss this time, you’re mine,” he breathed to himself.
Letting out his breath, he held it, and in a slow, deliberate motion began to press the fire button, only to freeze in place when his wrist communicator tingled his skin.
Peller’s lips drew back in a snarl and his eyes flashed anger, but he had no choice but to lower his weapon and himself behind the downed tree.
Angrily, he tapped the comm code into the little communicator. In an instant, a tiny three-D computext appeared over his wrist. The Alpha Centurians have left the negotiations, it read.
With pursed lips, he signaled to his hunting companions that they had to return to the hidden hunting blind. Minutes later, he led his scowling and disgruntled hunting companions back into the camouflaged and fortress like shelter.
While the others helped themselves to the lavish buffet, Peller pinched his lips together and frowned. He needed to contact the message sender, but he couldn’t do it here, and it couldn’t have come at a worse time.
The lithe and tall Imperium bureaucrat had worked long and hard to bring these three Lydorians deeper into his net, and now he was close to cinching it tight around their unsuspecting necks.
He flashed a smile showing perfect teeth to the Lydorians. “Sorry, but I’ve received an important message and it’s one that I can’t ignore. I’ve got to fly back to Geneva.”
Before they could protest, he said, “I know, I know. But to make it up to you, I’ll have the Gigantasaurs released into the hunt zone.”
He slapped the butt of his L-rifle. “And I’ll double the wager that none of you brings one down with a single shot.”
Peller smiled wide after his challenge, saying, “I’ll be back soon to collect my winnings.”
His guests grumbled but waved him off to take care of his business. They didn’t see his departure as all that unusual, since a man of his position in the Imperium often received urgent transmissions that needed attention.
An hour later, Peller strode into his Swiss chalet and hurried to his study. He stopped before a Monet canvas that depicted several ladies in white dresses playing in a flower garden.
After touching four distinct places on the painting’s textured frame, a dark line creased a side wall and the teak facing slid away to reveal a maximum-security door.
Peller entered his personal code and put his hand on the sensor pad for molecular recognition.
With a soft swish, the black door slid open, revealing a room that held ultra-sophisticated communication and computer panels, and one large, mahogany desk that sparkled in the room’s lights.
No one, family or staff, knew of this hideaway, and Peller had made sure that those who had constructed it could no longer divulge its location or contents.
The communication equipment gave him the ability to confer with anyone in Imperium space and provided unlimited access to the Imperium’s voluminous data files.
More than that, the room held his deepest and darkest secrets.
Moving to his desk, he swept his hand across the surface. In an instant, numerous icons appeared in the air.
He reached out and touched the holographic image of a binary star system, the symbol for Double Star, his longtime double agent within Star Scout Command.
It was he who had sent the innocent-appearing Alpha Centauri message.
Within moments, a space-tanned face appeared on the holo-view. His dark frown signaled to Peller that he had an unwelcome message to deliver.
“Well?” Peller began. “You interrupted a crucial and expensive match hunt.” He didn’t tell the man that the entertainment was meant solely to continue his slow, but inexorable entrapment of the Lydorian delegates.
The Star Scout stated, “The Gamma Almach mission failed.”
Peller pounced like a cat on the man’s statement. “What happened!” he demanded.
“The Kolomite was gone,” the scout explained. “Taken before we even down planeted.”
Peller leaned forward. “Did you say taken?”
With a firm nod of his head, the scout replied, “Taken. We found traces, but the ore lode was mined out.”
The scout stopped and shook his head several times while rubbing a hand against his furrowed brow.
“You’re not going to believe this, but the ground alteration, the technique used to extract the ore, it was just like Veni. An almost exact duplicate, in fact.”
Peller went stiff. Veni!
He hated the word, hated the fact that there wasn’t a single day over the years that he hadn’t thought of Veni.
And now this man was talking about Veni, bringing back the hateful, unbidden memory that flooded his mind.
Peller couldn’t help himself and his thoughts went back to that day almost twenty years ago when he had faced this very man . . .
* * * *
“The Veni mission failed,” the Star Scout mumbled, his voice stumbling over every word. “Kavon and Beth. They’re dead.”
Pel
ler slammed a hard fist down on the console, rocking the desk from the heavy blow. “Dead! Your slime-birds were supposed to be watching over Kavon!”
Double Star just sat, not looking up, unable to answer, powerless to explain the loss of Peller’s son.
It was several minutes before Peller’s crushing mental blankness dissipated to the point that he could think and speak.
He took a deep breath, exhaled, and demanded, “The Kolomite. What about the Kolomite?”
Stunned, the scout jerked his head up in surprise.
No doubt, Peller thought, he expected questions regarding Kavon’s death, but right now, all Peller wanted to know was what happened to the Kolomite.
That was the most important thing, even beyond Kavon.
“Gone. Mined out,” Star stammered.
“How much?” Peller demanded.
“At least a thousand kilograms.”
Peller’s sharp intake was a hiss. A thousand kilograms! He leaned forward until his face was mere centimeters from the hologram, “Mined out. By who?”
Double Star’s eyes had gone stone cold. His neck muscles quivered in anger. “There’s only one answer. Deklon Marrel,” he stated.
“He deserted your son and . . .” The man choked before saying, “My Beth, and now they’re both dead.”
“Explain,” Peller demanded.
Peller’s underling was silent, his face growing darker and angrier with each second. Without warning, he exploded in a thundering tirade.
“Deklon Marrel! They say he’s one of the best Star Scouts in the command along with his twin brother, Jadar. But in reality he’s a coward who deserted Beth and your son.”
Double Star had taken in great gulps of air before continuing. “It’s clear what happened,” he rasped. “Meat-eating saurians attacked Marrel’s team in a cave.
“Marrel ran from the fight and Kavon must have followed. We found his remains further back in a larger cavern. Marrel’s prints cross the cavern to an outer exit. Several hundred meters beyond was the Kolomite field.
“Marrel’s tracks stop at the ore site, but there’s no sign of Marrel, no remains, no equipment, nothing. He’s just disappeared.”
Double Star drew in a deep, shuddering breath. “This was Marrel’s Last Trail. Instead of going on a hazard-free mission, he chose Veni instead.”
The scout looked beside himself while saying, “No one turns down nonhazardous duty for their last assignment. No one!
“But he did. He went to Veni because he was after the Kolomite, and he sacrificed your son and my Beth to get it.”
“Stop!” Peller exclaimed. “Who is this Beth?”
The scout sat still as if gathering his thoughts and emotions before saying, “Star Scout Sergeant Bethany Simms. A member of Marrel’s team and—my wife.
“In secret, we married several years ago. I never told anyone; she didn’t either. We had—problems that started after our daughter’s birth. Beth left me, but I will never stop loving her.”
The Star Scout drew in a ragged breath, dropped his head. “She was the only one who ever . . .”
His words became softer than a whisper until he stopped. He raised his eyes but they stared off into space as if he couldn’t see Peller and instead, were lost in some memory.
Perhaps of a better time, a happier place.
Peller began to cut the man off since he didn’t care for personal drivel. Instead, he let him ramble. To know the secrets of underlings made them so much more malleable later when he needed to bend them to his will.
In silky tones, Peller replied, “I am so sorry, we will share our grief. Go on.”
Peller’s voice seemed to awaken the man and he shook his head to murmur, “That’s it—about Beth I mean.”
Peller’s thoughts turned elsewhere. A thousand kilograms of Kolomite! What could a Star Scout do with a thousand kilograms? The same as he—almost anything he wanted.
“Marrel couldn’t remove that much raw material alone,” Peller stated. “How did he get it off-planet without being seen?”
“We only had one support vessel in low orbit,” Double Star replied. “After mining the ore, all they needed to do was load it on a deep-space craft, wait for our ship to go below the horizon and boost out.”
“So he had accomplices,” Peller mused aloud.
But who? he thought. He had made very sure that besides himself and Double Star, only two others knew of Veni’s Kolomite, and those two would never cross him.
Another thought crossed his always suspicious mind—would this man dare betray him?
After all, he was a veteran Star Scout officer and thanks to Peller now in a high-ranking position normally given to longer-serving, more qualified scouts.
Nonetheless, he was trained to lead, make decisions, and take chances. But did he have the resolve to go against Peller at his own game?
Peller didn’t think so. After all, Double Star knew that such a betrayal would be fatal. And there was no doubt that he had a deep and healthy sense of self-preservation.
But for a thousand kilograms of Kolomite the man might make a pact with Beelzebub himself—after all, he was in league with Peller.
For now, he would accept the scout’s simplistic explanation until the facts proved otherwise. He would also assume that this supposed hero Deklon Marrel was alive and held the answer to retrieving his Kolomite.
So, find Marrel, find the Kolomite. To do that he would use his small, but growing Faction organization, and he would use this man and through him the Star Scouts, too.
They would locate Marrel and if his agent had a part in the deception, well, his beloved Beth had suffered a terrible fate; his would be just as dreadful.
“Kavon’s body?”
The scout grimaced. “The predators didn’t leave much. I can have his remains transported to you for burial.”
“I will tell you when and where,” Peller directed.
The scout shifted as if he were uncomfortable with continuing the conversation and refused to meet his master’s eyes. Peller was quick to note how the man avoided his gaze. He’s hiding something, he thought, or has information he’s afraid to admit.
“Spill it,” he ordered.
The man rubbed at his mouth and kept his eyes down. “It’s possible that Kavon might have used his real name during the mission.”
Peller bolted upright, but before he could speak, the scout held up both hands as if to ward Peller off. “Whenever we do an operation, I review the records to make sure there aren’t any telltale connections to us.”
He spoke in a hard tone. “I told you that we had too many of your people involved, too many pieces in play. But you didn’t listen to me. It was pure luck that I found a reference in an electronic logistics log to a Kavon Peller, not Kavon Franklin.
“How it got there, I don’t know. He had the false identity documents when he left the staging area.”
“Did you get his name off the records?” Peller demanded.
“I’ve taken care of what I could. But I have no way of knowing who Kavon talked to or what name he used.”
Peller’s mind raced. He had to hush this up before anyone uncovered Kavon’s real identity, why he was on Veni, and of most importance his link to Peller.
His eyes narrowed as an idea formed in his mind. The man in front of him had raged about how Marrel had deserted his wife—left her to die.
“You mentioned a daughter?” he asked sympathetically.
Double Star raised his head and nodded.
“And now she is left without a mother.”
The man tried to speak but couldn’t. He stammered, “I’m sorry. I—”
“Oh no, no,” Peller replied sympathetically. “There is no need of an apology. This is a great tragedy for both of us and should not have happened. There is no one to blame but—”
“Marrel!”
“Yes, Marrel. He’s taken much from both of us.”
The man bowed his head and ran both hands thr
ough disheveled hair. “Yes,” the scout whispered, “And I swear he will pay.”
“By all means,” Peller responded, “but let us reason together how.”
“Reason? There is no reason. When I find Marrel, he's—”
“Stop,” Peller commanded. “We will find Marrel. And he will pay. But I want the Kolomite first. Then you may do with Marrel what you will.”
He thrust a slender finger at the man and demanded, “Is that understood?”
They locked hard eyes before the Star Scout nodded. “Yes—but Deklon Marrel is mine!”
“Marrel is yours when I say he is yours,” Peller stated. “You said he had a brother. Are they close?”
“Close? I have no idea, why?”
“Is it possible that the brother was on Veni?”
“Impossible. He wasn’t even assigned to the operation.”
“What about in secret, to rendezvous with his brother, perhaps?”
Double Star shook his head. “I don’t see how, but I can check the command wide assignment log just to make sure.”
“Good, and while you’re at it, if this Jadar Marrel wasn’t there, keep a very close eye on his movements. After all, brothers share traits; perhaps these two have a propensity to acquire power and wealth.”
The man’s puzzled expression told Peller that he hadn’t considered the very real possibility that Jadar Marrel as an accomplice. But that’s what made him slow and stupid.
“Did Marrel have immediate family—wife, children?”
The man turned aside to glance at another console. “Wife, Jenn, and a year-old son, Dason.”
Kidnap the wife and child? Peller considered, use them to flush out Marrel? Maybe, but he wouldn’t discuss such a notion with this man. He had others more suited for that task.
“So, Marrel has a wife and son. Address?”
Within a few seconds, Star said, “Sending.”
The information appeared over Peller’s desk. With one hand he pushed the data to a particular send icon and pressed the transmit button.
“There,” he remarked. “You watch the brother; I will take care of the others. Now, I assume that there will be an investigation of some sort?”
