by Caleb Selby
As the shuttle slowly came to rest, Fedrin once again glanced out the window and spotted an Idok marked craft on the opposite of the landing sight. His wife’s ship! Next to her shuttle he spotted a luxury Asar Star Runner, the Governor’s personal vessel and the location of the data device, as told to Fedrin by Professor Jabel.
Fedrin rose from his seat, his eyes never leaving the governor’s shuttle, as he quickly plotted his next few moves. His heart was racing.
“You’re all clear, Sir!” Tarkin’s voice crackled from the speaker near the departure door.
Fedrin put his coat on and walked over to the door. “Lower the ramp.”
“You want me to secure the area first? I’m more than happy to check everything out,” said Tarkin.
“Stick to the plan Tarkin.”
Tarkin shook his head. He didn’t like the plan.
The double doors of the shuttle swung out slowly as a ramp descended from the door to the ground. Fedrin descended the ramp and stepped onto the landing platform. After buttoning the last button on his uniform coat, he casually glanced around the landing area. No one was in sight, a bit unusual but he didn’t dwell on it. He breathed in deeply and made his move, taking off toward the Governor’s shuttle in quick strides, not quite running but not quite walking either. Fedrin reached the side door of the shuttle and panted for breath. He glanced around once more before pulling the lever to manually open the door.
It took Fedrin only a moment to locate the small data device taped underneath one of the leather sofas as Professor Jabel had carefully instructed. He held the device in his hand for just a moment, marveling that something so small could be so weighty in the fate of his beloved Federation.
He had just climbed out of the shuttle and closed the shuttle door when Tarkin ran up behind him.
“You forgot this Sir!” Tarkin said, handing Fedrin his lydeg.
Fedrin nodded as he reached out for the weapon. He placed it in his holster and looked up at Tarkin. “Thanks,” he said intently.
“Not a problem,” Tarkin said, trying to sound cheerful but inwardly was full of trepidation. “Sure you’re ok? I could stay and help if you needed me to.”
“We each have our own duties to perform,” said Fedrin directly. He then nodded to the shuttle. “I know mine and I ask that you remember yours.”
Tarkin hesitated, knowing what Fedrin was saying, but wondering if his duty to him outweighed his orders.
“Its time to go Tarkin,” Fedrin said firmly. “Don’t make me regret choosing you for this job.”
Another long moment passed before Tarkin finally stood erect, saluted Fedrin with all three of his right arms and then turned around. He quickly made his way back to the Iovara shuttle and boarded.
Fedrin watched as Tarkin fired up the engines and began a gradual ascent off the platform. When the shuttle reached cruising altitude, the main thrusters activated and the small craft speedily headed toward the airlock which it had entered minutes prior. Fedrin watched until the shuttle was out of sight before turning toward the imposing building.
He had just taken a step toward the uninviting structure when he felt a gentle tap on his elbow. He turned abruptly and was surprised to see a young girl standing behind him. She was elven or twelve years old, Fedrin guessed, and was dressed in a well-worn orange jumpsuit that looked as if it was much too large for her, but had been crudely tailored to allow her to use it anyhow. Her hair appeared brown at first glance but Fedrin caught glimpses of light blond strands mingled in and surmised that it was actually coated with layers of dirt. The same dirt clung to her cheeks and forehead, and also stained her hands. Her striking teal eyes were full of deep and troubled thoughts. Her overall appearance and demeanor bore the signs of a sober maturity that she was much too young to have, but had long ago accepted.
“What can I do for you, young lady?” Fedrin asked, keeping a weary eye around the landing pad, knowing full well he was an easy target where he stood.
“Please, Sir,” the girl began, her voice trembling. “I’m looking for my brother. Have you seen him?”
Fedrin shook his head. “Afraid not. I just arrived here myself.”
The girl’s teal eyes started to fill with tears. “Please, Sir! I need to find him! Mother says he’s gone but I just know he’s around here somewhere. The transport ships haven’t left yet! Please, Sir, please help me find him!” She produced two small coins from a fold in the large orange jumpsuit. They were a currency only used on the colony but were essentially worthless there as well. She held them out to Fedrin. “You can have these if you help me. Please, Sir.”
Fedrin was moved. He gently closed the girl’s hands around her own coins and shook his head. “I don’t even know where to look,” he answered, wishing he could help and wishing he had time to help. “Why don’t you get a hold of the security office? I’m sure they’ll help you.”
The girl shook her head as she thrust her worthless money back into an oversized pocket. “They’re the ones that took him away.”
Fedrin looked puzzled. “Did he do something wrong?”
“No,” the child replied with a shake of her head. “He was selected to...”
“Jeni!” a man’s voice billowed out over the empty landing pad. “Jeni, what did I tell you about coming here? What did I tell you?”
“But papa!” the girl protested as a tall, gaunt man, (obviously the original owner of the jumpsuit) ran up beside her and grabbed her arm firmly.
“I’m very sorry, Sir,” the man said to Fedrin emphatically as he tried to pull the girl behind himself. “Please, Sir, don’t report her. She’s all we have left in the world now. Take me if you want. I’ll gladly go on the list, but please don’t take her! Please! I have eighty Federation Credits at home. They’re yours if you want them. Please!”
Fedrin raised his hands for quiet. “Nobody is taking anyone. Now just calm down.”
The man looked at Fedrin cautiously, and slowly relaxed his stance, although he still held his daughter tightly.
“Now, just what is going on here?” Fedrin implored. “Do you need help finding someone? The girl mentioned that her brother is missing?”
The man glanced at his daughter and then back to Fedrin, shaking his head. “We understand the payments must be made. You won’t have any more trouble from us. Right, Jeni?”
“Now just hold on,” Fedrin said firmly. “What do you mean payments? Payments to who and for what?”
The man glared at Fedrin as if he didn’t trust him. “The payment to the Krohn Empire of course,” he said in a rehearsed tone that sounded bitter.
A wave of terror suddenly swept over Fedrin and he took an uneasy step back. “And why does the Voigt Colony make payments to the Krohn Empire?”
“Because we belong to them now,” the girl answered honestly.
“Jeni!” the man whispered harshly.
Fedrin nodded slowly. “And these payments to the Krohns include what exactly?” he asked, fearing he already knew the answer but wishing he was wrong.
The man looked up from his daughter as tears started to fill his own eyes. “Do you really not know, Mister? You wouldn’t be testing me, would you? Because if you are, I’ll have you know that we are good citizens who obey the law. I work wells twelve hours a day and my wife works at the dispensary. Jeni here works in the ventilation system when she isn’t helping her mother or me. We are good, hardworking folk, honest, Sir.”
Fedrin shook his head. “I’m not testing you, really. Now, please tell me, what do you give the Krohns for payment?”
The man swallowed hard. “The Krohns arrived here at the colony about six or seven months ago. It wasn’t a whole fleet or nothing. Just a few cruisers and support ships, but it was more than we could handle. They jammed our signals so we couldn’t send for help and then they demanded that we pay them a tribute of two hundred co
lonists a month for feeding their crews or risk having them launch a full scale attack.”
Fedrin felt sick to his stomach. “…and you agreed to this?”
The man shook his head vehemently. “We opposed it vigorously but the governor and his men made the decision without our input! They told us that it was better to lose a few hundred colonists monthly then risk losing millions should the Krohns attack in force.”
“And they’ve been harvesting you ever since?” Fedrin asked in disgust.
The man nodded. “They say it’s a random lottery, but nobody close to the governor or his associates is ever on the list.”
“That explains why the fleet didn’t attack the colony,” Fedrin said aloud.
“Sorry, Sir?” the man asked, having no idea that a battle had taken place.
Fedrin shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. Now the girl said something about her brother?”
“They took my boy two days ago,” answered the man, his voice quivering.
“They?” Fedrin inquired.
“Security forces…the Governor’s thugs. I tried to stop them but they threatened to take my Jeni too,” he said, hugging the girl tightly. “When I offered to go instead, they just laughed at me and said that the Krohn generals wanted some younger meat for a change,” he finished as tears flowed freely down his face. “They seemed to enjoy it! And I...I just let them take him. Just like that,” he said shaking his head. “What kind of monster am I? What kind of father lets men walk off with his son knowing full well what they intend to do with him?”
“But he is still here, correct?” Fedrin asked. “Jeni said the ships haven’t left yet?”
The man nodded toward three enormous masses on a nearby landing pad. They were covered by large silver tarps, partially masking their form. “The ships usually would have left by now,” he said. “I’m not sure what they are waiting for.”
“They probably don’t have any place to bring them,” Fedrin stated.
“How do you mean?” the man asked.
Fedrin nodded upward. “We just finished destroying their fleet a few hours ago.”
The man looked at Fedrin in shock and took an uneasy step back. “Who are you?”
“He’s Admiral Fedrin!” the girl suddenly shrieked. “Remember Papa? From the telecast?”
The man looked at Fedrin and then slowly nodded. “They say you’re a traitor. They say you sold us out. That true, Mister?”
Fedrin shrugged. “I don’t feed young boys to Krohns. Good enough for you?”
“Good enough for me,” the man said with a nod.
“Hey, you there!” a voice some distance away suddenly yelled out.
Fedrin turned and noticed two security officers walking briskly toward them, one short and heavy, the other of medium stature but built like a tank. Their demeanor left little doubt as to their intentions. Fedrin quickly turned back toward the father and daughter. “It’s probably time for you two to go.”
“Do you need help?” the man asked. “What’s going on?”
Fedrin quietly removed the lydeg from his holster and handed it to the man without the approaching officers noticing. “Don’t worry about me. You have a son to rescue. Now go!”
The man cautiously accepted the weapon and tucked it under his shirt just as the officers arrived.
“Fedrin?” the short, fat one demanded as he caught his breath, his harsh tone matching a pair of cruel eyes that glared at Fedrin incredulously.
Fedrin looked up defiantly. “I think you meant to address me as, Chief Admiral Fedrin.”
“Come with us!” the muscular officer snapped and took Fedrin by the arm. “Chief Admiral Fedrin!”
“And you two better get lost or you’ll be high on the list for the next shipment!” the fat one shouted to the man and his daughter followed by a unpleasant laugh that made his nasty little eyes squint and look even more frightful.
The father and child watched as the two officers led Fedrin toward the capital building and an unknown fate.
“Jeni,” the man said looking down at his daughter intently.
“Yes papa?”
“Go home.”
“But papa...”
“Go home and tell your mother to call her brothers and all of our neighbors. Have her tell them to call everyone they trust and bring anything that can function as a weapon and meet me at the Krohn transports in thirty minutes.”
“Oh papa! Are we going to get brother back?”
The man nodded solemnly. “It’s time we reclaimed our colony! Hurry!”
Fedrin was guided down corridor after corridor, deep within the capital building’s core. There was no pretense of civility shared between his captors and himself. On this far off colony, his rank and status held no weight when compared to the word of a tyrannical despot willing to sell children to monsters just to live another day.
“You don’t have to do this,” Fedrin said as he sensed they were reaching their journey’s end. “I can help you all.”
“Shut up!” the fat one shouted, pushing Fedrin so hard that he fell to the ground.
“The Krohn fleet is defeated!” Fedrin yelled from the ground. “You don’t need to be their puppets anymore!”
The built officer reached a hand down to Fedrin and helped him up. Just as Fedrin found his feet, the one helping, kneed him violently in the gut, sending him to the floor again, this time coughing and gasping for breath.
“We aren’t anyone’s puppets!” he sneered. “We’re just looking out for number one! You got that?”
Fedrin languished on the unforgiving ground, eyes closed, struggling to his hands and knees as he gulped in air. A pungent boot, belonging to the stout officer, met Fedrin’s gaze as he reopened his eyes. Fixed to the boot was a fierce looking combat knife. The clasp holding the blade in the sheath was undone. It was in arms reach.
“It is only a matter of time before you turn on yourselves in order to survive,” Fedrin said in a raspy voice. “Join me, and together we can save this colony.”
The officers paused for a moment as if considering Fedrin’s final offer.
“You sound like your cute little wife,” the nasty, plump one snorted.
“Wouldn’t mind interrogating the likes of her again,” muscles added and then laughed, a dirty misogynistic cackle that resonated his moral depravity. It was the last sound he would ever utter. A large knife, coincidentally one that resembled his own, was protruding out of his chest, a steady red stream flowed near its anchorage. The brawny man took a shaky, confused step backward and then fell backwards.
Fedrin was up on his feet by now and spun around to engage the other whose chubby fingers were fumbling with a holster fixed to a struggling belt. Fedrin dove at the officer, using all his strength to bring the paunch man to the ground. Fedrin retrieved the weapon from the man’s belt and pressed it firmly against his corpulent neck.
“Where is my wife?” Fedrin demanded, stating each word slowly and deliberately as he stared into the squinty, eyes of his former captor. “Where is she?” he screamed; when no answer followed Fedrin slammed his head into the ground, pressing the barrel still harder against him.
Beads of sweat ran down his face and filled the folds of his chins as he stared up at Fedrin with disdain. He managed a nasty smile. “By now she is in the belly of a Krohn General.”
Without hesitation Fedrin took the gun and clobbered the officer in the head, knocking him out cold. Fedrin slowly stood to his feet and glanced up and down the hallway. He bent over the slain officer and retrieved the knife from his chest, wiped the blood and tucked it into his belt and covered the hilt with his shirt. With pistol in hand he took one step down the hall when he heard it; the unmistakable charge-up sound of a lydeg pistol. Fedrin slowly turned and spotted an imposing man standing in an open doorway. “Governor Onkil?” exclaimed
Fedrin when he saw the tall, bearded man wearing a long purple tunic and holding a small lydeg in his right hand.
“Put it down, Fedrin,” Onkil commanded.
Fedrin dropped the weapon to the ground and held out his hands to show they were empty.
“Much better,” Onkil said with an unnerving smile. “It’s good to see you, Fedrin!”
“It would be better to see you if you weren’t pointing that piece at me,” Fedrin said, nodding at the weapon.
Onkil chuckled and slipped the gun into a fold of his tunic. “Oh, don’t mind that. It’s just for my personal protection. Well come on in out of that musty corridor,” he said warmly, motioning to the room behind him and seeming not to take notice the two officers on the ground. “Come on in and take a load off. Supper is on the table. You must be starved!”
Fedrin glanced around the empty corridor before shaking his head. He had no other course of action but to follow Onkil. He sighed, stepped over the two bodies, one dead, one unconscious, and followed Onkil.
The room was small and poorly lit. It had a polished table in the center with an outdated star projector fixed in the middle. Ornate plates and glasses were neatly set out; several savory smelling dishes occupied the center. Star maps, warp-point trajectories and schematics of the Ilo battle station, were among the large charts that cluttered three of the four walls of the room. The fourth wall, directly across from the door, was a solid pane of opaque glass.
Onkil removed his tunic and hung it on a hook and sat down at the head of the table and motioned for Fedrin to sit across. “Have a seat,” he said in a tone the seemed more of a command than a request.
Fedrin cautiously did as he was told, keeping a vigilant look around the room. Something was definitely not right. He was about to ask what was going on when a knock sounded at the door. Onkil stood to his feet quickly as if he were expecting the knock but pretended he wasn’t.
“Excuse me,” he said to Fedrin with a slight, jittery bow. He motioned to the impressive array of covered dishes and pots on the table as he walked toward the door. “Please, don’t be shy, Admiral.”
