by Frank Carey
He got up. While Losira ran a scanner over him, Gloria continued introductions. "Tan, this is Dr. Kalana Grenor..."
He saluted. "Captain Grenor, your experiences as a member of the Space Marines and the Elf Marine Expeditionary Force are required reading at Space Patrol Academy. It is an honor to meet you as well."
She returned the salute, then shook his hand. "Thank you, Captain."
"Captain Grenor is a trauma surgeon. We asked her to observe, though we doubt we'll need her services."
"Teska, activate the bed, please," Losira directed the Canuran.
"Yes, Doctor." She typed in a series of commands. While she worked, Losira ran her scans through the lab's computers.
"Tan, did the Coran doctor tell you how she worked her magic?"
"No, only that the change was permanent and that any residual Lysan signatures would be masked from any but the most precise scans. Why, Doctor?"
"I'm not sure. Gloria, could you look at these readings?"
The elf walked over and looked over her sister-in-law's shoulder. "That's odd. We're getting a microsecond of corrupt data followed by a normal life sign reading. Is your scanner out of whack?"
"Maybe. I'll check it while Tan is undergoing the procedure." Losira got up and walked over to Tan. "Ready for this?"
"Will It hurt?" he asked.
"Wuss. It's painless. Strip down to your birthday suit and lay down in the bed."
Moments later, Tan was sound asleep as the bed did its work.
###
"Tan? Wake up, Tan," a voice said over the bed’s intercom. Tan slowly opened his eyes but saw only darkness. His ears were ringing, and he could smell something, he just couldn't figure out what. "Ungh. OK, I'm awake. Did something go wrong because I think I'm blind."
"No, your eyesight is normal, we just have the lights out and the window darkened. How do you feel?"
"Odd. I think I'm experiencing auditory and olfactory hallucinations."
"It's so cute when pilots try to talk like doctors," a familiar voice said. He could tell immediately that it was Gloria. Then he heard something else.
"Gloria, turn the mic's sensitivity down. I can hear your hearts beating."
"Tan, close your eyes. We're going to unseal the bed."
Tan did as he was instructed. "Ready."
The muffled noises turned into a mild cacophony as the bed's cover retracted.
"Keep your eyes closed while we get you up to sitting," Losira said.
"Hey, Doc, why do I hear so many hearts beating? One of them sounds like a machine gun."
"I'll explain in a moment," she replied as someone swung his legs over the side of the bed.
"Do you smell anything?"
"Yeah. Lilacs, vanilla, something musty, the sea shore, and honey, along with a dozen other scents I can't identify. Did someone drop a case of perfume bottles?"
"No, nothing like that. Tan, there was a slight complication during the procedure."
"What kind of complication? Did something fall off?"
"No, nothing like that. Slowly open your eyes."
Tan opened them. "Damn, I can't believe how focused everything is." He looked at the chart on the wall across the room. "League Patent Office Number 08321771698." He looked down at his hands. "Hey, what's with all the fur... Shit!" He stood up and ran over to a wall mirror. "I'm a damn Lysan!" he said. "Is this your idea of a small complication?" He saw Treena and Spent standing off to the side and staring at him in shock. "Treena, does your heart always beat that fast?"
"I think I can explain," Gloria said.
"By all means," Tan said as he ran his hand over his elongated right ear.
"The Coran doctor used nanobots to transform your cellular structure and DNA, except she didn't transform the DNA. Instead, she programmed the nanobots to maintain your human form while suppressing your Lysan DNA. Those bots were being powered by the beacon. The bots shut down when we removed the beacon, but not before returning you to your Lysan form," Gloria explained.
"We think it was some sort of failsafe feature," Kalana added. "We tried to reactivate the beacon, but it's scrammed."
"So, I'm staying this way?"
"Yep," Teska said. "Don't feel bad, though. I think you're kinda cute."
"Dr. Cerberus!" Dr. Losira admonished the petite Canuran.
"What? He's cute?"
Traax took that moment to walk in. He stopped and looked at Tan and began to growl.
"Shit!" Tan said as he took a submissive pose. "Does anyone have a pheromone suppressor?"
Losira ran over to a medkit, grabbed an injector, and pushed it against the side of Tan's neck. Instantly, the security chief stopped growling while shaking his head. "What the hell just happened and who the hell are you?"
"I'm Tanoh Ohnat and you were reacting to being in a room with a strange alpha male. Sorry about that. I'm a little rusty at controlling my pheromone output."
"Tan? Damn, I'm gone for a few hours and look what happens. But, you're not Erdexi," Traax stammered.
"No, but Erdexi and Lysans must share a common ancestor. Doc, how long until that suppressor wears off?"
"A few hours for an Erdexi; gods only know for a Lysan."
"Then we should get going."
"Are you insane?" Kalana asked. "You've lost all your human traits and increased your mass by 50%. The strain could kill you unless you take it easy."
"It’s eight hours to the mine, so I'll have time for a steak and a nap. Treena, are you still OK with this?"
"Yeah. You're still Tanoh Ohnat even if you look like you need a shave."
"General?"
"Get out of here. The Rougarou can monitor your vitals in flight," Spent replied.
"I'm still against this," Kalana said.
"Your objections are noted, Doctor. Unfortunately, we don't have the luxury of time," the general pointed out. "The Rougarou is go for launch. Good luck to the both of you."
"One thing before you leave," Losira asked. "What does Rougarou mean?"
"It's French for werewolf," Tan said with a shrug. He and Treena walked out of the room and headed to the launch bay where their ship awaited them.
CHAPTER SIX
Having woken from his post-meal nap, Tan sat in the copilot's seat and played with his claws while Treena drove the Rougarou through other-space. He stared at the tips of his fingers while extending then retracting needle-tipped claws. Meanwhile, his ears swiveled around as they tracked even the most minute sound.
"How does it feel to be back in your old body," the young Martok asked as she watched him intently.
"Odd. Very, very, odd. I've been a human since before you were born. Now, I am back to my old Lysan self in a body I barely remember having. Did you put cinnamon on your bread earlier?"
She stared at him. "Yes..."
"It's getting old. I'll lay in a new supply when we hit Algol."
"You can smell the difference four hours after I used it and through the closed hatch?"
He nodded. "And we really need the ventilator in the engine room looked at. It's slightly off-balance."
She went from staring to gaping.
He looked down at his flight suit, then took off his cap and held it next to the suit's fabric. "Do these look off color-wise?"
"Stop it, now. You're freaking me out."
He put the cap back on. "Sorry. My senses are heightened, and I'm concerned about my pheromone control. You saw what happened with Traax. I forgot to put the old scent glands on manual control and almost got into a fight with the Cube's chief of security. Lysans are worse. We've fought wars over mistakes like that."
"How did your people get so warrior like?"
"Oddly, the historians and social scientists blame social media. We had an extremely rigid set of rules governing social interaction, but they disintegrated when the Lysan version of the InterWeb came on-line, at least that's the story. Personally, I think my people were only marginally civilized to begin with, and we were looking for a
reason to devolve."
"Same old Tan. I was worried this would change you?"
He pulled on his long, blue-black mustache, then stopped. "Shit!"
"What's wrong?"
"I've got a date when we get back, and she's expecting someone human."
"You have a date? With whom?"
"Cheryl Mansur. She works in communications."
"Oooh, she's that cute elf with the ombre hair."
"Yeah. Now, I've got more hair than she does."
"And yours is all over. Call her when you get back."
"I'll have to. Are we there yet?"
"Another hour. When was the last time Space Patrol visited the station?"
"Captain Bracken checked the place out six months ago, and the next visit isn't scheduled for another six months. I hope they don't mind if we're early." He reached over and pulled up a data sheet on the mine. "They're still unaffiliated with the League, but they've asked for a Patrol to stop yearly. I think they're just lonely."
"Did the Lysans have anything to do with the station back in the day?"
"I think so, though I don't know in what capacity. Many Lysan ships visited several remote stations on the edge of the League even though the Commonwealth considered the League a gang of barbarians. That's how I ended up here."
"As a fugitive?"
"No, as cargo. I was packed into a stasis pod and shipped here in a crate marked 'Medical Instruments.' The Captain had me delivered directly to the Coran clinic so that no one ever saw me arrive."
"You're kidding, right?"
He shook his head. "I have a piece of that crate hanging on the wall of my quarters. It holds sentimental value."
CHAPTER SEVEN
Tan tugged at his uniform while he waited for Treena to join him. After docking at one of the airlocks on a seldom used side of the station, they decided to debark as Officers of the Space Patrol in the hope that no one would notice that one of them was a Lysan. Tan had convinced himself that this venture would be a wild goose chase, that no one was waiting for his head. Perhaps Javitch Knock was a Lysan con artist who had gotten in over his head with a con that had gone too far, or perhaps he was looking to try to ransom the long-dead son of the king. Whatever the reason, this trip was probably nothing more than an early visit to a far outpost.
"How do you do it?" Treena said as she tied her hair into a bun.
"Do what?"
"Keep all that hair under control?
"Conditioner. Lots of conditioner along with a hair dryer set to low. Treena?"
"Yes, Tan?"
"Have we become BFFs since my transformation?"
She cuffed him.
Smirking, he tapped the button to cycle the lock open. Treena gasped when both doors opened to reveal four armor-clad Lysans standing at the bottom of the ramp. Between them stood a fifth Lysan wearing the robes of a bureaucrat. The official looked up and gasped while taking a step backward. "Who are you?"
As pilot, Treena took a step forward and presented their papers. "Captain Treena Salat and Captain Tanoh Ohnat of League Space Patrol. We're on a routine patrol and thought we'd stop by to see if anyone needed anything."
"My name is Shaltz, and I'm with the Dock Authority. What is a Lysan doing wearing a League uniform?" the official demanded.
"Whatever I please, pencil pusher. You will speak to the pilot with respect else I get angry and demand satisfaction," Tan replied with his best imperious tone. "If you think your cubs can help you, think again."
The four guards grabbed the grips of their swords.
The bureaucrat raised a palm. "Hold." The guards released their swords. "Forgive me, Captains. I was not aware of any Lysans being in the service of the League. You, of course, are welcome here. The station commander will speak with you at your convenience."
"Thank you, Mr. Shaltz. We will speak with the commander now, if you please," Treena replied with neutral respect.
"This way," he said as he turned toward one of the entrances to the main station. As they passed the guards, Tan stopped and laid his hand on one's armored shoulder. "I suggest you do not board the Rougarou. My targlesh runs free, and she doesn't like strangers."
The guard nodded.
As they walked off the deck, Treena whispered, "What's a targlesh?"
"A miniature wombat with anger issues. Lysans keep them as pets."
"Remind me not to piss you off. Thanks for the assist back there."
"You're not angry for me acting like an arrogant ass?"
"Not when you made it clear that you're my arrogant ass. This is starting to get interesting."
Shaltz took them to the commander's office on the top level of the station. They could see Algol through panoramic windows which ringed the level. Like many mines. The miners lived on the station but worked on the planet below.
"Excuse me for one moment," the official said. He walked over and knocked on the office door before stepping inside. Now alone, Tan glanced at the hidden security cameras at both ends of the corridor. He looked at Treena who confirmed with a nod that she also saw them. Shaltz walked out into the corridor while holding the door open for the two patrol officers. "Commander Stor will see you now."
They stepped inside to find a female Lysan standing behind a desk while staring out into space. "Thank you, Shaltz. You may leave us now."
"Yes, Commander," Shaltz replied before stepping out and closing the door behind him.
"Computer, seal the room and set the privacy field."
"Yes, Commander," a deep male voice said. "You are now isolated from all eavesdropping."
The woman turned to face the pair. "So, you are members of Space Patrol. You're not due back for another six months." She walked over to stand toe-to-toe with Tan. "Why is a Lysan working for the League of Planetary Systems?"
"My name is Captain Tanoh Ohnat, and this is my commanding officer, Captain Treena Salat. And you are?"
The woman smirked. "I am Commander Recklesh Stor. I run this station."
"This station is property of the League under loan to the Algol Mining Consortium. Where is Mekla Smith, the head of this station?"
"Mr. Smith is not here, and I am afraid he will not be returning anytime soon. The Lysan Commonwealth has annexed this star system and the equipment found therein. Do you have a problem with that, little captain?"
Tan made a guttural growl. "Careful, Commander, there is no treaty between the League and the Commonwealth, and I anger easily when someone insults my commanding officer."
"Are you threatening me, Captain?"
Tan thought for a moment. "Yes, I am. I may have lived in the League since before you were born, but I still follow the old ways."
"A traditionalist. I like that. Now, why are you here, Captain Salat?" the commander asked, her voice filled with respect instead of derision.
"We are following up on an attempted murder at one of our research stations. The assassin died before he could tell us who hired him."
"And you think the buyer is here?"
"This station was the assassin's next port of call."
"And who was the assassin's mark?"
"A Lysan by the name of Kalock Stor."
Recklesh's eyes snapped up to meet those of Treena. "Is the mark dead?"
"Kalock Stor died forty years ago," Tan said as he watched the woman, "by the hand of King Stelgar Stor, his father."
"You were there?"
"Aye. I watched from the shadows as the King used his blaster on the lad. All that remained was his name and a pile of ash. Commander, why would anyone send an assassin to kill a long-dead nobleman?"
It was a moment before the commander answered. "I do not know, but I will find out. Captain Salat, my people have prepared quarters for you and Captain Ohnat. You will be our guests while I make inquiries. As for the disposition of this station, my diplomats are contacting the League as we speak." She looked at Tan. "Have we ever met?"
"No. I may be old, but my memory is still sound."
"You look familiar. It will come to me." She looked up at the ceiling. "Computer, release the room and have Shaltz join us."
"Yes, ma'am."
The door opened and Shaltz stepped inside.
"Shaltz, escort our guests to their rooms. Captains, I hope you will join me for dinner. Shaltz will fill in the details. Good day to you both."
Shaltz escorted them out. After a short walk, the official led them into a pair of adjoining rooms where he briefed them on dinner. "Press the call button if you need anything, otherwise you are free to check out the station at your leisure." He walked out, leaving them to their own devices.
Treena took out her comm and pressed a button on its side. A yellow light on its side slowly flashed. "We're free to talk. Tan, what the hell is going on here?"
"You want the long list or the short list?"
"Short."
"That woman is my half-sister."
"And you can tell this how?"
"She was trying to seduce me with a pheromone barrage which had familiar overtones. She was confused by my lack of pheromonal response, lack of physical response, and the news that Kalock Stor was truly dead. She was shocked by your nonchalant revelation about the assassin, which means either she sent him, or she's involved with the person who did."
"Eww! Your sister tried to seduce you?"
"Half-sister, and she doesn't know I'm related to her. I left years before she was born, and I'm currently scent-silent, so she can't possibly know we're related. I can let you in on a little secret," he whispered.
"What?" she whispered back.
"Lysans use scent to identify individuals more than any other sense. She looks at you and sees honey with a hint of mint and jasmine."
"Ok. So, what does she see when he looks at you?"
"A blank. She's probably running my name through the... Dammit, that's how she found me."
"How?"
"The League never had the chance to decommission the station, so it’s still connected to the InterWebs. She just needed to access the logs of the stations to see if my tracker signal showed up on any of them recently."
"We're talking about a major security breach," Treena pointed out.
"And then some. But the question of why go to the bother of killing a dead Lysan still remains," Tan pointed out.
