CassaStorm

by Alex J. Cavanaugh

  “Officer Mevine,” said Byron, startling the science officer. “I need you to send me your findings and conclusion in a report I can forward to High Command.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Byron allowed a grin to cross his face. “The aliens want peace between the races? Well, let’s see how badly the Vindicarn want their planet to survive.”

  Mevine swallowed hard. “Yes, sir.”

  Grasping his son, Byron set Bassan on the floor. “And then,” he said with force, “you are to go home and go to bed.”

  “But sir...”

  “Mevine, I’m going to need you more than ever if we hope to beat this. And I need you sharp. Get a few hours of sleep so you can perform your duties.”

  Standing straight, Mevine offered a salute. “Yes, sir!”

  Holding his son’s hand, Byron led Bassan from the lab. The boy’s feet moved quickly to keep pace. Once they reached the hallway, his head dropped.

  Father, I’m sorry, he thought.

  Byron didn’t respond. They passed an officer on his way to the lab, his salute jumbled as he attempted to maintain a hold on the items in his hand. The moment the man entered the lab, Byron stooped to one knee in front of Bassan.

  You shouldn’t have touched that console, he thought, grasping his son’s shoulders. Bassan’s chin drooped. Byron gave him a shake and the boy raised his head.

  But considering you now carry the code that could save us, I’m damned glad you did.

  Bassan’s mouth opened and his eyes grew wide. Byron smiled and patted the side of his head.

  Not bad for a half-breed, huh?

  Leaning forward, Athee retrieved the new message. Her back protested the awkward pose and she shifted her position. Athee moved again, edging closer to the desk. The tension in her body just wouldn’t allow her to find a comfortable spot.

  I need some rest, she thought. And time away from this desk!

  The message held another list of twelve candidates. She scanned the descriptions. All fell within Byron’s parameters and represented an equal mix of men and women. She’d rejected two lists already this morning. Athee grew weary of fighting with the prefects. Several were determined to slip in completely unqualified prospects. At least this selection represented a good mix of ages and skills.

  “Thank you for not trying to save every member of your family,” she said under her breath.

  Adding the names to the master list, Athee glanced at the time. The medical team sent to retrieve her uncle and place him under the care of the Cassan facility would reach Orellen soon. Byron had promised safe passage for the former prefect, but Athee suspected access to the Cassan base would soon be impossible for unauthorized Tgrens. With her uncle housed in the medical facility on base, his passage off planet was secure. His knowledge was too valuable to lose.

  And if Enteller finds out, he’ll pitch a fit, she thought. At least I’m not trying to save all of my relatives.

  A loud beep signified an urgent message. Athee noted the direct feed and replied on her tablet. The disapproving scowl of Prefect Anchore filled the screen.

  “Officer Athee, we were promised the use of the shuttle,” he said, every syllable enunciated through clenched teeth. “We’ve been waiting an hour now.”

  Patience, Athee thought as her defenses rose. “Prefect Anchore, give me a moment and I’ll check the shuttle’s estimated time of arrival.”

  “It should’ve arrived an hour ago.”

  Punching the keys on her main computer with considerable force, Athee summoned Shuttle Two. Muting her tablet, she angled it away from her face. The shuttle pilot deserved a warning of what awaited his crew.

  “Shuttle Two, this is Officer Athee,” she said, placing her elbow on the desk and resting her cheek against her palm. “Roesaw, what is your current position?”

  “Officer Athee, we are at the Stin Caves in the northern quadrant. We’re unloading the last of the cargo right now.”

  “Good, because Prefect Anchore is waiting. Impatiently I might add.”

  “My apologies. We’ll be on our way shortly.”

  Athee touched the pilot’s mind. Don’t let him give you any grief.

  Roesaw answered her with a chuckle. I can handle that crotchety old man. We can always pitch him out an airlock and claim it was a shuttle accident.

  Concealing a smile, Athee turned to her tablet. “Prefect Anchore, they are unloading the last of a shipment to the Stin Caves and will arrive at your location soon.”

  “Well, we have five loads instead of three, and if the shuttle doesn’t arrive soon, some of the contents will spoil in this heat.”

  “Prefect, ask the crew to move the perishables first. They should be there soon.”

  Ending the transmission, Athee set down her tablet and rolled her eyes. Maybe Roesaw would make good on his threat and she wouldn’t have to listen to Anchore’s complaints anymore.

  Another message arrived. Noting its origins, Athee grew excited. It was the final list of Tgren passengers for the Nacinta and Doorthmore. Compiling it with the master list, she forwarded the information to Byron.

  Leaning back in her chair, Athee rubbed her eyes. The sight of Arell’s atmosphere dissolving into a violent storm returned. She’d slept through the event but forced herself to watch the recording this morning. Her hands shook at the thought of such a beautiful planet laid to waste by the ancient aliens. Early reports claimed most of the race had escaped annihilation, but what would the Arellens do now? Where would they go?

  Weighing heavy on her heart was Bassan’s involvement. The key to saving the races resided in her son’s head? She didn’t want him caught up in this crazy situation.

  Her stomach rumbled. Between thoughts of her morning work requirement, not to mention concern for Bassan, Athee had eaten with haste and dumped half of her meal in the trash. She really needed something to eat. Rising to her feet, she grabbed her tablet and went in search of food.

  Touching her mate’s mind, she discovered him deep in conversation. Judging from the content of the exchange, Byron was speaking with Mevine in the lab. Going under the assumption he’d not eaten either, Athee decided they could both use a meal.

  Athee?

  Hearing her name drawn out with that tone caused her to smile. Yes, Uncle?

  Why am I being transferred to the facility on base? I was supposed to go home today.

  If we can’t stop the probe, everyone on this base will be evacuated. That includes everyone in medical.

  Passage on the Cassan ships is for those who can perpetuate our race, her uncle thought.

  Byron is allowing a few key people to be included. You are on that list.

  No! I’ll not deprive someone else a chance.

  Athee rounded a corner, her boots striking the floor with force. And I’m not leaving you behind a second time. Don’t try to argue with me, Uncle. Istaner already sent over some of your belongings. You will leave with us on the Nacinta.

  But what of my son and his family?

  Istaner refused passage, Athee thought. Her cousin’s response hadn’t surprised her, although she dreaded leaving him behind. They will take shelter in the alien craft. The report from Arell this morning confirmed the ship will provide protection against the violent storms. He’ll be all right.

  That’s where I belong as well, he uncle thought with finality.

  No, you belong on that Cassan ship with your great nephew.

  Athee…

  Uncle! She paused, leaning against the wall. Her heart constricted and Athee dropped her chin so no passerby would see the tears forming in her eyes. I left you behind once. Never again.

  She closed her eyes, fighting back the pain of that moment. Determined to convince her uncle, Athee didn’t shield her anguish from the man.

  Ever since I lost my father, you have been there for me, she thought. You are just as much my father as he was. I need you. I need you for my son. Byron has no family. You are as much a grandfather as a great uncle to Bas
san. Should something go terribly wrong, I want to be sure my son has someone besides his parents to guide him. I want you there to watch my son grow up.

  The sound of boots striking the floor caused Athee to open her eyes, but she didn’t look up. To her relief, the person didn’t stop. Wiping her cheeks with shaking fingers, Athee straightened her back.

  My dear… thought her uncle, his mental voice trembling.

  And you can argue with me all you want, but I wasn’t the one who made this decision. You’ll have to take your complaint to the base commander.

  A long pause followed. Concerned, Athee reached out and touched her uncle’s mind. The man who’d governed Ktren for over twenty years with an unwavering strength now teetered between resolution and complete emotional surrender. The latter won the battle, eliminating all protest.

  And to think I despised that pilot when I first met him, her uncle thought.

  Athee smiled and pushed off from the wall. Sometimes people surprise us.

  I’d like to see Istaner and his family one more time.

  I’ll arrange for them to visit you tonight.

  Thank you, her uncle thought, his words ripe with a thousand deeper meanings.

  Wiping her face again, Athee continued toward Mevine’s lab. The muscles in her chest eased as she walked. The three people who mattered most to her would be aboard the Nacinta.

  She continued to struggle with the discovery of the code in Bassan’s head. Before she reached her destination, she touched her son’s mind. His joy bubbled forth as he enjoyed time with Drent. The knots in her shoulders eased and she resisted the urge to speak to him. Bassan carried such a heavy load. He deserved a moment free of fear and the opportunity to be a little boy.

  Entering the lab, Athee scanned the room for her mate. A science officer pointed to the far corner, and she caught sight of Byron and Mevine hunched over a computer. Her stomach rumbling again, she joined them.

  “According to the Fesell,” Mevine said as Athee approached, “the code is part of a fail-safe to change the probe’s directive.”

  “So it will do more than just stop the probe?” Byron said, straightening his back. He glanced at Athee as she paused beside him, a brief touch on her mind the sole acknowledgement of her presence.

  “Peace between the races will stop the probe, but that code will allow us to control it.”

  His words brought a surge of hope to Athee’s heart and she clutched her computer tablet to her chest. Mevine looked up, his gaze shifting from Byron to Athee. Scrambling to his feet, the science officer shoved aside his chair, and it collided with the edge of the console. Athee grasped his arm to steady the man.

  “Officer Athee, my apologies,” he stammered, groping behind his back for the chair.

  “Mevine!” said Byron. “You said we can control the probe?”

  Athee released her grip on his arm and Mevine’s attention returned to his computer. “Yes, sir. The Fesell have translated the purpose of the code in the databanks. It will allow us access to the directives contained within the probe.”

  “They were able to translate it that quickly?” asked Athee, stunned by the rapid progress.

  “We’ve shared data with them for years,” replied Mevine, producing detailed graphs on his computer screen. “Once the Fesell were able to access the alien ship on their own planet, their research accelerated. We’ve analyzed the information they sent and the theory is sound. The code will allow us to control the probe to an extent.”

  “To an extent?” Byron said.

  The science officer paused. “Sir, we just can’t say with any amount of certainty. We could have full access to the probe or just limited access. Either way, we should be able to prevent it from destroying any more planets.”

  “Maybe we can program it to give the alien race a taste of their own medicine,” said Byron, his voice low.

  The science officer cleared his throat. “We’d need to know their location first. The origins of the alien ships are still unknown. That’s another reason why we still can’t reach the alien race. We’ve also been unable to contact the probe, as it won’t respond to our transmissions.”

  “Well, if we can’t get the races to declare a ceasefire it won’t matter,” said Byron. “I’m sure High Command already has the information, but send me a short report and I’ll forward it to Cassa.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Byron turned toward Athee. I assume you were looking for me?

  Yes, she thought, falling in step with her mate as he moved toward the exit. Thought you might want to get something to eat.

  Since I’m unlikely to catch a break today, now is as good a time as any.

  Byron maintained a tight shield around his mind as they walked to the dining hall. Their bond meant Athee could press for access if she desired. From his silence, she suspected her mate’s patience was wearing thin. She decided to wait until he put some food in his stomach. Perhaps it would improve his mood.

  The dining hall was littered with half-empty tables. Few dared approach the commander when Athee accompanied him for meals, and they were able to eat in peace. Byron spent part of the time responding to messages, but she chose to ignore the two beeps on her own computer pad. At least he was eating. When he pushed aside his tablet, Byron looked up and met her gaze.

  Sorry, he thought, scraping another forkful of food from his plate. Just weary of the whole situation.

  I know. She felt his touch on her mind.

  I sensed your distress earlier. Are you all right? Byron thought.

  Yes. Just had to convince my uncle he has a place on the Nacinta whether he wants it or not.

  I assume you succeeded?

  Catching the humorous glint in his eyes, Athee permitted a smile to tug at her lips. Of course.

  Byron reached for his glass and shook his head. Wish it was as easy to convince ten races to declare a truce.

  Two planets destroyed isn’t enough to convince them?

  No, even with the probe bearing down on them, the Vindicarn still refuse to bargain with us. Should just let the probe wipe them out.

  Athee set down her fork, fighting the fear rising in her mind. But we’re next.

  I know, he thought, leaning his elbows on the table. We’re running out of time.

  An urgent beep on his computer interrupted them. Scowling at the device, Byron tapped the surface.

  “Commander, we’ve detected four rogue ships south of here,” a voice announced.

  Those words shot through Athee like a bolt of lightning. Rogue attacks on the planet surface were rare. She couldn’t recall an attack within the past year. Athee gripped the edge of the table and prepared to rise.

  “Inform Officer Hurend at once. Have him send a squadron to intercept,” Byron said. He tapped his screen and pressed one fist to his forehead. “Damn rogue pirates have impeccable timing.”

  “They’re getting braver,” said Athee, still fighting the urge to run to their ship.

  “They’re getting desperate.”

  Byron’s arm dropped to the table, revealing a drawn look of disgust. His accompanying thoughts were just as weighted. Her mate’s disposition leaned toward serious and intense, but the past few weeks had pulled Byron to new depths. Pushing aside her own concerns, Athee reached out to him, funneling every ounce of belief into her mate.

  Lifting his chin, Byron gazed at her with his eyes of cold frost. Stretching out his hand, he placed it atop Athee’s fingers. She grasped his hand and returned the firm grip. Byron’s gestures of affection while on duty were almost non-existent. Athee understood the necessity for professionalism and never pushed for attention.

  I wouldn’t fight this hard if not for you and Bassan, he thought.

  Touched by the sincerity behind his words, she felt tears come to her eyes. Athee paused to gather herself. Before she could form an appropriate response, Byron’s computer tablet beeped. He sighed and gave her fingers a squeeze.

  Right now, I’d like to beat th
is device to a pulp.

  Athee smiled, buoyed by the renewed strength in his mind. And I’d gladly help!

  Chapter Eleven

  “We’ve agreed to discuss terms of a truce. You are to escort a representative of Tgren to the Nacinta for a conference with the leaders of the ten races,” said the member of High Command.

  “Yes, sir,” replied Byron. He glanced at the corner of his screen and noted the time of the conference. He’d have to contact Prefect Ubarce right away.

  “Since this will be the first time Tgren has spoken as part of the alliance, I want you present with their representative to advise him. We’ve worked hard to secure this meeting. We can’t let inexperience destroy what might be our only chance at peace.”

  “I understand the importance, sir.”

  The transmission ended and Byron reached for his computer pad. Ubarce will be fine, he thought. Just hope I can keep my own temper in check.

  He explained the situation to Ubarce and told him a shuttle would arrive shortly. Ubarce assured Byron he would be ready, although he questioned the wisdom of his inclusion in the conference.

  “If we fail to stop the probe, you will be the leader of those Tgrens escaping the surface of the planet,” Byron said. “You need to be the one to represent your people tonight. If you have any questions during the conference, I’ll be present to assist you.”

  Ubarce took a deep breath. “I will do my best. Do the other prefects know yet?”

  “Not yet, but they will shortly. I’m sending a proposal to them as soon as we are finished here.”

  “Several will protest your choice.”

  Byron cocked one eyebrow. “You let me worry about that.”

  Aware of the delicacy of his message to the other prefects and the ensuing objections, Byron decided to take a few moments to compose his thoughts. Grabbing his tablet, he left his office. Enticing smells from the dining hall filled the corridor. He’d think better with food in his stomach. The dining hall was not the best place for quiet reflections, however. Detouring down a side hall, Byron informed Athee he intended to eat at home.

  I’ll keep Bassan occupied while you’re here, she thought after he explained his decision.