by John Dizon
"You're well aware of my preconditions," Captain Molybden, leader of his self-named mercenary army, said tersely. He was a giant of a man, standing almost three meters tall and weighing almost one hundred ninety kilos. His long black hair and thick beard lent him a mythical aura. "Half down and half upon completion. Tell me the objective and the price and I will make a decision."
"I may be willing to forego any front money, provided that the back end is worthy of my meet," Captain Neptune, the leader of one of the System's deadliest pirate gangs, spoke up. He was a powerfully built man whose meticulously-trimmed hair and goatee reminded one of the mythical Lucifer. His evil stare enhanced the perception. "You said there was a very large score involved. My reason for coming is for you to name the price."
"I'm sure everyone is aware of the daughter of the President of the Federation has been kidnapped," Mick looked around at each of them. "There is an interplanetary search going on, a System-wide manhunt for the abductors. Word has it that the Deltans are willing to pay up to five hundred million credits for her return. When it comes to Deltans, the sum's negotiable. Only I'll bet the Federation is willing to match that amount. That equals a billion credits."
"Listen to yourself," Neptune scoffed. "Those green-skinned freaks will slit your throat without thinking twice if you brought them that girl and tried to collect."
"Watch your words," Beryllium cautioned. "There are more than a few of my men who are Deltan citizens."
"Perhaps you have reason to observe political correctness with your crew," Neptune retorted. "I have no such concerns."
"And what is it that you bring to this table?" Molybden asked, stroking his beard, his icy eyes fixed on Mick. "Surely you're not going to suggest we join in on this goose chase."
"No, I am suggesting we cut ahead of the pack," Mick replied. "I'm sure you all know Captain Necromicon."
"Necromicon," Neptune shook his head. "That freighter-jacker. What does he have to do with this?"
"He will play a key role in helping us reach our objective," Mick insisted. "Gentlemen, I am trading on Necromicon's reputation as a member of the Pirates Guild, a man of respect. I need some kind of commitment from you before I reveal what I've learned and what I have planned."
"I think I'd rather hear what you've got in mind before I commit to anything," Neptune replied.
"I'm with the outlaw on this one," Molybden turned his stare on Neptune. "I don't want you walking out of here and spreading this story at the nearest resort facility. You're either in or out. Only remember if you renege on the deal, you will face my wrath."
"Your wrath is of no concern to me, you should know that," Neptune snarled. "I'll hear what he has to say. If his plan is foolish enough to needlessly put my crew in harm's way, you can do as you like."
"Even a half billion credits are worth a certain amount of risk," Beryllium decided. "Let us hear your plan, outlaw."
~+~
Von Kilgore stood on the bridge of the Valkyrie, studiously looking over the shoulder of Necromicon as the Captain charted the course of the cruiser. His experience was limited to navigating warship-class ships. Yet he had spent considerable time on deck observing Necromicon's men. He was confident that he and Zane Ramjet could steer this ship back to the Alpha Quadrant if necessary.
"Have we gotten any closer to Drachna's location?" Von asked.
"We are still forty thousand kilometers away," Necromicon murmured.
Von convinced Necromicon to begin tailing the Invictus after one of his men was able to hack into the control panel of Drachna's tracking device. They were able to reprogram the mechanism so that it displayed the coordinates of the console monitoring their progress. Both Von and Necromicon agreed that the safest move would be to remain at the farthest possible distance without losing contact with the starship. Yet an unusual dispersion of energy along the course of the Invictus inspired Von's curiosity.
"I say we set sail towards the eruption," Von implored them. "If Drachna comes to investigate, we can tell him we thought it might have been someone intercepting the Deltans. We'd think he'd expect as much. It's the reason he let us live, isn't it?"
"Giving us your two credits' worth isn't why we let you live," Stuttgart retorted.
"Yeah, more like five hundred million."
"That's quite enough," Necromicon grew weary of their constant bickering. "I agree that it is worth investigating. Yet if he even suspects we're tailing him, he'll sink this ship without a second thought."
"Might I suggest we take a circular path along the Dark Territory to elude Drachna's sensors," navigation officer Colditz offered. "There may be enough negative energy along the barrier to further distort his readings."
"Go right ahead and encourage that wastrel," Stuttgart growled. "Next thing we'll be cruising right along the Black Side to make him feel right at home."
"You know, talking about waste in space–-"
"What did I say?" Necromicon snapped, silencing the men on the bridge. "I can't hear myself think with your prattling. We're risking this ship along with our lives in this preposterous scheme. There's not a force in the universe that can take out the Invictus. If he overtakes the Deltans and rescues the girl, there's not a damned thing anyone'll be able to do about it."
"I'm telling you, there's not a starship in the universe that can stand off an attack by a combined force coming in from opposite directions," Von insisted. "If we can cut a deal with a renegade force along the frontier, we can act as decoys and have them hit him from behind. He won't expect us to attack when he diverts his course to repel the assault. We've got enough firepower aboard this ship to cripple one of his nacelles. If he's got at least three or four warships to deal with, he won't have the resources to return our fire. If just one of the warships are able to pierce the outer hull of the Invictus, it'll be the breach we need to board the ship."
"That makes all the sense in the world," Stuttgart could not help himself. "We'll find someone as stupid as he is to help carry out his suicide mission."
"Silence, I said," Necromicon grunted, as a gleam came to his eye. "In fact, I know such a man indeed."
"Who?" both of them chorused.
"There is a man called Mick Rhymes. Stuttgart, you remember him."
"He's the leader of that band of fugitives we came across along that Betan outpost," Stuttgart recalled. "They had just taken out a Scorpion squadron near the Antares asteroid. He had a warship and three fighters, didn't he?"
"If that," Necromicon frowned. "Yet he was in process of building a network, he had his own connections. He told me how to contact him were we to come across a group in need of his services. I don't think it would hurt to reach out to him. He's the righteous type, he wouldn't betray a confidence even if he were to decline the offer."
"So let us suppose that by some freak twist of fate, we manage to take out the Invictus and rescue the girl–-if Drachna has her. How are we gonna split the reward money? We risk everything to divide the take with a bunch of drifters?"
"Rest assured there will be quite a shipwreck, or a series of them," Necromicon said slyly. "It would be unfortunate if no one was able to rescue the survivors."
~+~
"Director Morpheus," a female intern emerged through the heavy oaken door of his inner office suite. "I have urgent news to report."
"What in hell…?" Morpheus stared up from the computer console on his desk. "How did you get in here?"
"She barged in," his secretary, a black woman standing nearly two meters tall, was nearly driven to distraction. "I told her losing her job was the least of her problems."
"What's your name?"
"I'm Stacy Thomas, sir, a senior cryptologist," the attractive brunette spoke up. "I'm a Texian."
"Well, that explains everything," Morpheus leaned back in his leather chair. "That'll be all, Condi."
"Sir?"
"That'll be enough for now."
"I've already summoned security."
"Well, un-summon
them. That'll be all."
The people of Texian were considered among the most stalwart and valiant of the Alphan nations. It was no coincidence to Morpheus that Marcella Stone was one of them. The Armadillo Regiment of the Alamo Division had defeated an Uzbek force in the Battle of Charon during the Interplanetary War in the Old System. It was a key battle that led to the armistice before the Great Collapse. Texians were held in high regard, and Stacy just scored her own brownie points.
"Now what's so important to make you risk getting arrested at your own place of employment?"
"Sir, my unit picked up a low frequency transmission from the Outer Territories of the Betan Quadrant," she said earnestly. "I think it's Von Kilgore."
"Condi, get the President on the big screen," Morpheus punched the console on his desk. "Extremely urgent, top secret. On the double."
"Here's what I could decipher," she passed a sheet of paper across the desk to him. "It's an outdated Deltan code. I don't think he's very familiar with it. I also think he used it in hopes of the Stone kidnappers intercepting it. He may think it'll get them to make a bad move."
BEING HELD ON CRUISER SHIP --- ON TRAIL OF STONE KIDNAPPERS. WILL HAVE COORDINATES SHORTLY.
"I agree. If he had coordinates he would've sent them."
"Sir, President Stone on the line," Condi's voice came over the intercom. "I'll patch her through as soon as you're ready."
"Let's not keep the President waiting," he replied, mildly amused by the thought of Condi giving him a piece of her mind later on.
"Director Morpheus," the image of Marcella behind her desk at the Oval Office greeted them.
"Madame President. I have Stacy Thomas, a new intern, here with us. She intercepted a message sent using an old Deltan code that we believe came from Von Kilgore."
"He's the one you sent undercover to investigate Styrena's disappearance."
"One and the same. I think Kilgore wanted to have us on stand-by as well as yank the kidnappers' chain. If they think he's onto them they may either want to cut a deal or they'll try handing her over to whoever's behind the plot."
"I'll have Pluribus and Obanion contact you at once. We'll have a task force on the Betan border ready to move at a moment's notice."
"I'm just trying to figure out what Kilgore has in mind," Morpheus frowned. "If whoever he's flying with finds this message, they may be expecting a double-cross. That may take Kilgore out of play."
"I did a little background check myself," Marcella sounded confident. "I knew you wouldn't have sent Kilgore if he wasn't one of your best. We'll proceed vigorously in expecting your agent to have things under full control."
~+~
Lieutenant Xamon was certain that Styrena Stone would begin losing her grip on reality if things continued as they were. He let Captain Misch know in no uncertain terms. Only Misch was chafed by the fact that he was being second-guessed, and by his significant other, to boot. His pride had kept him from interrupting his program to break Styrena's will. Only he was grudgingly beginning to realize Xamon may have been right.
Styrena was resplendent in a sapphire gown, her thick mane strikingly tousled in a classical beehive hairdo, Her eyes were enchanting as was her lovely features enhanced by exotic makeup. Only her movements were stilted and her gaze fluttering, indicating that she might have been entirely distracted. Xamon could not help but realize how bizarre this was, despite the crew's best efforts to revive Styrena's spirit. The bridge crew was hospitable and complimentary, but Styrena seemed as if she could not understand what they were saying.
"You look beautiful this evening, Miss Stone," Xamon walked over and kissed her hand. Somehow it ignited a spark of jealousy in the bowels of Misch, though his inscrutable look did not betray him.
"We thought you might enjoy some time as our guest on the bridge," Misch smiled curtly. "It's quite an impressive view. We are cruising mere kilometers from the Dark Zone. Few people have ever seen such a sight."
"Is this–-is this your deck?" Styrena's voice was almost slurred.
"Yes," Xamon smiled proudly. "I'm sure you've visited your own Alphan military vessels. We're quite proud of our own, they are quite sophisticated in their own right."
"Very nice," Styrena seemed to sway as she turned to face the communications console.
"Commander Lyme," Misch called over to the horned mutant. "Take care that Miss Stone does not touch any of the controls."
"Yes, Captain," Lyme lowered his toad-like features, trying to avoid startling Styrena. "Miss Stone–-
To everyone's shock, Styrena threw herself against the console, hammering the buttons and levers like a madwoman as she shrieked at the top of her lungs.
"Help! Help! This is Styrena Stone! I'm being held on a Deltan cruiser along the Outer Territory of Beta! Help me! Help–-!"
At once Misch drew his xaser and fired it at Styrena. Though it was set to stun, it slammed her against the console with brutal force. The lovely woman was as a dead person as she collapsed to the upper deck.
"Misch!" Xamon held his knuckles against his mouth. "You stupid fool!"
The captain had become almost as distracted as Styrena, his reactions almost as robotic. He swung blindly in Xamon's direction, slapping the commander with a resounding backhand across the face.
It was almost as if the entire scene had become frozen in time. The crew was well aware of the relationship between the two, but it had been well concealed from open view until now. The crew's eyes darted between the inert Styrena and the stunned Xamon, wondering who or what would ignite the next outburst.
"Captain," the ship's engineer, a mutant with elephantine ears and bulging handball-like eyes, broke the deathly silence. "There's a large military-class vessel closing in on us. They are approximately three minutes away."
"Where are they?" Misch demanded.
"They're on the other side of the Betan territory. The only type of vessel that can travel that fast is a starship."
"It's Drachna," Xamon held his knuckles against his bruised lips.
"Put me on the ship's intercom," Misch ordered. "Gentlemen, man your battle stations."
The bridge crew numbly assumed their positions, realizing they were in mortal danger. Misch cleared his throat before addressing the cruiser crewmen.
"Attention, attention. This is your Captain speaking. We are under imminent threat from a starship-class vessel headed in our direction. This is a red alert. All personnel will arm themselves and take positions around the loading docks on either side of this ship. As you know, these will be the points of entry for attackers seeking to board our ship. We are certain that this is a starship from the Scorpion Imperial Fleet. We are all well aware of the nature and disposition of this adversary. Surrender will not be a desirable option. I ask each and every one of you to fight to the finish. Long live the Republic."
He then stood and walked over to Xamon. He grasped his shoulders and silently mouthed the words I LOVE YOU before returning to his seat at the command console for the battle about to commence.
~+~
Von Kilgore was awakened by the barrel of a xaser gun that was jammed hard against his temple, a fist grabbing his collar tightly.
"All right, wastoid," he heard the voice of Stuttgart growling above him. "One stupid move and I'll burn a peephole through your skull."
"That would make my head about half as empty as yours," Von was fully awake as Stuttgart yanked him to his feet alongside his bunk in the darkened room.
"What's going on?" Eleos climbed out of his bunk in the rear of the cabin, rubbing his eyes as Alanis sat up on her cot.
"This guy's going to have a little chat with the Captain," Stuttgart steered him toward the door.
"Hold on," Zane reached for his boots. "I'm coming."
"You'd best stay where you are and watch over those two," Stuttgart snarled as the door slid open in response to the device in his belt buckle.
"You know, if this doesn't turn in a major summit conference, you and I ar
e going to have a serious discussion below deck," Von growled as Stuttgart shoved him down the hall toward the bridge.
"You'd best say your prayers to your Higher Power," Stuttgart paused as the door to the bridge slid open. "This is your last ride, you mutant."
"A mutant will make you look like a Betan princess by the time this day's done," Von shot back as he was pushed over the threshold.
"Why, Captain Kappa," Necromicon giggled as he was surrounded by the entire crew. "How nice of you to join us. We were engaged in quite an animated discussion and we were hoping you might enlighten us on a couple of issues."
"Gee, I would've thought this genius had all the answers," he nodded back at Stuttgart.
"Hit it," the captain nodded to the stone-faced Colditz, who punched a button on the command console. A robotic voice droned a message:
BEING HELD ON CRUISER SHIP --- ON TRAIL OF STONE KIDNAPPERS. WILL HAVE COORDINATES SHORTLY.
"Now guess where that came from?" Necromicon smiled icily.
"I'll do you one better," Von replied. "It's your move. Here's where you send the signal to Grav Drachna."
"Wha-a-at?" Necromicon broke into a giggling fit chorused by the guffaws of his crew. "Were you sniffing converter fumes before you went to bed?"
"I was gonna talk to you about that. You've got a bad emission problem."
"Should I do him now?" Stuttgart jammed his gun in the back of Von's neck.
"C'mon, skipper, think this out," Von insisted. "Anyone who intercepted that transmission will think it's someone who's hot on the trail of the kidnapers. Anyone worth their salt will come flooding into this sector. There's no way Drachna's going to ignore our signal. When he comes after us, he'll have dozens of renegade ships blocking his path. After the waste hits the tube, the kidnapers will think it's smooth sailing. They'll come out of hiding and we'll have them."
