Roemer and GooYee were so surprised, they froze in place while their brains coped with the unexpected. Rash took the opportunity to lock the canister release valve open. Placing the hissing nozzle in front of the air intake vent, he watched momentarily as the clear mist was sucked into the air circulation system. No one on the Salterr was spared. Everyone onboard except Rash slumped over unconscious as the gas spread throughout the ship.
Setting a countdown timer on his watch for the five minutes required for the gas to dissipate, Rash pulled his MA pistol and made a quick sweep of the saucer. Satisfied the Hallowed Gas of Silence had done its job, Rash waited until the timer buzzed. Removing the nose filters protecting him from the now inert gas, he pushed the send button on his FLR.
"Mission accomplished."
"Excellent Deacon Rash," Your Grace responded. "Your dedicated service in furtherance of the doctrines of The Exalted Fellowship of the Holy Epiphany shall be enshrined on the Sacred Scrolls. Acolyte Trakutel will join you in a few moments. He'll prepare the Salterr for the next phase of our retribution."
"Your Grace, the coma induced by the Hallowed Gas of Silence endures for three hours. Timing is crucial to the accomplishment of your Holy Goals."
"Don't worry. I hustled his ass over there. In fact, he should be joining you right now."
Just then, Trakutel walked into Engineering and nodding to Rash, went directly to the FLIT gen monitor panel and inserted a thumb drive into its access port. Keying a series of commands into the computer, he waited a few moments as he read the progress of his virus upload on the monitor as it infiltrated the main server. Finally he pushed the Enter key and removed the thumb drive.
Without delay he said, "Let's go to the master control room. I need to program the automatic controls on the GPC and set the computers for auto-destruct. We can't let the Asiddians find out how the FLIT gens, FLIT drive or our weapons work."
Jogging up the ramps, Trakutel and Rash entered the control room and dumped Doug and Becky from their pilot's couches. Doug's head hit the deck so hard his scalp started bleeding, but Rash and Trakutel could've cared less.
Trakutel set the navigation controls and programmed the computer to implode all the FLIT gens upon arrival.
"I learned this trick from the Scottish buffoon during a long evening sipping a variety of single malt scotches. McPherson convinced Dr. Heinbaum a backdoor was necessary to provide for destruction of the FLIT gens in the event an enemy captured one of the devices. The destruction is caused by weakening one-half of the fullerene activation nodes. The black hole becomes unstable and implodes, taking the entire fullerene structure with it in one instantaneous moment of dissolution. Nothing is left but the bowl."
"What about the MA weapons and the defensive shield?" Rash asked.
"We take all the pistols with us. Just before the saucer makes its first jump toward Chrysalis, the Verbinna will destroy all the weapon turrets on the ship. The defensive shield is nothing but a specialized FLIT gen. It'll go with the rest of them."
Less than an hour later, Rash and Trakutel returned to the Verbinna and disengaged the docking link between the two craft. After stowing the MA pistols they'd confiscated from the unconscious crew of the Salterr, they rejoined Your Grace in the master control room to witness the final voyage of the Beast and his sinful human cohorts.
"This day shall be forever rejoiced by the followers of The Exalted Fellowship of the Holy Epiphany," Your Grace intoned. "The destruction of the Beast and his miscreant disciples shall heal the schism in the Church caused by the heinous death of my grandfather, Your Grace the First, God rest his soul."
"Amen," chanted Rash, Trakutel and DeLoth as they knelt before her.
Pulling a spray decanter of Obsession cologne from her pocket, Your Grace anointed each man with a quick squirt to the middle of his throat. Not only did she love the fragrance, she had blessed the liquid with words from the Holy Scripture rendering it as sacred as Holy Water.
"You are each forgiven of all your sins and purified in the eyes of the Lord God," she murmured. "Arise."
"You're all briefed on the story to be reported to General Blunt?"
When they all bowed their heads, she continued. "We shouldn't be suspected of any wrongdoing, but there's no doubt we'll be questioned separately. It's imperative we all stick to the script and not vary from it in the slightest detail. With God on our side, we cannot fail."
"Amen," chanted Rash, Trakutel and DeLoth.
Smiling, Your Grace ordered, "Acolyte Trakutel, initiate the Salterr GPC navigation sequence, but first destroy the weapon turrets."
"Yes Your Grace."
They all turned to gaze at the view screen where the Salterr floated against a black background of space sparkling with far off stars. After destroying the turrets with MA rays, Trakutel pulled out his FLR and pushed a series of six numbers followed by the pound sign.
As he pushed the pound sign, the Salterr vanished as it FLITed the first of three legs toward its final destination.
"Let's go report the bad news to General Blunt. The Salterr appears to have been destroyed by the Asiddians," Your Grace chortled.
***
Struggling to shake off the sticky cobwebs slowing down her mental processes, Hannah Wren pushed herself off the deck and blinked her eyes. As her vision cleared, she saw Ramona Crow lying a few feet away snoring softly. Walking over, Hannah dropped to one knee and gently shook her Science Officer. Crow's eyes fluttered, and she began trying to sit up.
The hatch to their cell was open. Rash hadn't bothered to close it when he made his search of the Salterr because he thought the knockout gas would keep everyone unconscious at least three hours. He never considered the possibility the metabolism of the Asiddians would be fast enough to clear the effects of the gas in less than two hours.
"Something's wrong," Wren said as she peeked out the open hatch into the quiet passageway. "There's no guard, and I haven't heard a sound."
"We're sitting pigeons if we stay in this cell. Maybe we can find some weapons and a place to hide," Crow said.
"Let's move then. Luck can be fleeting."
Slowly creeping their way through the ship, Wren and Crow discovered the humans and the Chrysallamans were unconscious. After a quick survey of available materials, they found some sturdy zip restraints to secure the hands and feet of their enemies.
Returning to the control room, Wren and Crow dragged the still bodies of Doug and Becky off to the side and turned their attention to the view screen. Trying to identify a familiar constellation so they could get some idea about their location proved impossible. Nothing looked familiar and the star patterns seemed to shift rapidly as if the spacecraft was changing its galactic position absurdly fast.
"Do you think you can take control of this ship?" Wren asked.
"I'm sure I can given enough time, Captain. I have to move cautiously, or I might push a button that blows us up. It looks like the ship is on some kind of automatic pilot. I've noticed that every time we see a change in star patterns that green light on the touch screen blinks."
As they both looked at the green light Crow was pointing toward, it blinked a third time and the planet Chrysalis appeared on the view screen. Just as soon as the planet appeared, the radios in their armor came alive with chatter from the battleships ringing the planet.
"Commander Osprey! Enemy scout saucer just appeared from nowhere!"
"Weapons control. Target and destroy."
"Sir, the ship's not functional. There's no energy signature. It's a derelict."
"How can that be? It didn't get here by magic."
"Sir. Targeting sensors locked. Three other ships are claiming the honor of destruction. If you don't take action, one of them will claim the bounty and the oval tatt of victory."
Wren frantically activated her suit radio as Crow stared at the battleship spines locking their targeting sensors.
"To all Asiddian ships. This is Captain Hannah Wren in command of the cap
tured Chrysallaman scout ship. Do not open fire. Repeat. Do not open fire!"
"Who is this? You're transmitting on command frequency Warble and unauthorized use is prohibited under penalty of death."
"I repeat. To all Asiddian ships. This is Captain Hannah Wren, Serial Number 37843ZapataDove in command of the captured Chrysallaman scout ship. Do not open fire. We have prisoners. Two Chrysallamans and three aliens of a species never before encountered," Wren responded.
A radio silence followed but fortunately no disintegrator ray fired at them.
Deciding a strong bluster was her only available weapon, Wren said, "Now send a shuttle over here with an armed guard to take charge of my prisoners and transmit a message to Princess Peregrine requesting her presence during the interrogations. If you delay, I'll personally make sure your head is mounted on my cabin wall."
The response from the battleship commander was idiotic. What else could she expect from a person trained by the Asiddian military system? Wren bashed her fist on the master control panel as she heard it.
"This is Commander Judith Osprey of the Asiddian Battleship Incarnate. I don't know who this is, but Captain Hannah Wren Serial Number 37843ZapataDove is stationed in the Cuddlur System. At light speed, Captain Wren couldn't possibly be in Chrysalis orbit for at least another 15 years. You are either a spy or an enemy combatant. Weapons control, you are free to . . ."
"HOLD BY ORDER OF PRINCESS PEREGRINE."
Not another word was uttered. Every Asiddian knew better than to question orders broadcast over command frequency Alpha. Princess Peregrine was the only member in the Royal Family on planet Chrysalis who could initiate a broadcast on the Alpha frequency.
A brief moment later, a sultry voice said, "Hannah Wren. I'd recognize your haughty tone anywhere. How's my favorite chick?"
"Princess!" Hannah answered, relief evident in her voice. "I appreciate your intervention. We have much to discuss."
"So I gather. Land your ship on the palace grounds. My personal guard will take charge of your prisoners and escort you to me."
"Your Majesty. This is First Science Officer Ramona Crow. The power generator in this ship is dead, and we have no operational knowledge about its systems. It's impossible for us to maneuver or land this craft."
"Confirmed Princess," Hannah said. "The ship was somehow pre-programmed to fly to this destination. We'll have to leave the Chrysallaman craft in orbit and shuttle down to you."
"Very well. Commander Osprey, dispatch shuttles to deliver Captain Wren, her Science Officer and prisoners to the palace at once."
Hannah turned to Crow and smiled at the look of amazement on her face.
"Princess Caroline Peregrine and I became best friends at the fleet academy. It's a long story. The first time we met I didn't know who she was. All I saw was a young lady being harassed by some bullies, and I intervened. Seems the King refused to coddle the Royal offspring. She had no bodyguards or visual indications of Royalty to protect her, and my presence saved her from a beat down. I didn't learn she was a princess until almost a year later because she was afraid our friendship wouldn't survive my finding out about her Royal lineage."
Crow was speechless for a moment. Shaking her head, she narrowed her eyes and said, "If you have any more get out of jail free cards up your sleeve, please let me know so I don't worry about being blasted from the sky by our own battleships."
***
Doug clawed his way back to consciousness. His head ached horribly, and his tongue felt thick and pasty. He tried several times to lift his hands to rub at the sharp throbbing in his forehead. His efforts were fruitless, and he came to the realization he was lying on his right side with his hands tied behind his back.
He heard voices murmuring in the background and was stunned when a strong kick against his left shoulder turned him onto his back. If it hadn't been for his enhanced bones and muscles, Doug was sure his shoulder would've been dislocated by the vicious blow.
More words he couldn't understand were exchanged and abruptly the dark bag covering his head was jerked off. Blinking his eyes against the sudden brightness, it took a couple of seconds to orient himself. In the meantime a booted foot pressed like a lead weight against his chest.
He was lying on a floor surrounded by five Asiddians. Two of them were the crew members of the Asiddian battleship his team had destroyed. Two others were military guards wearing body armor, helmets and carrying ominous black weapons that looked like SAR-21 assault rifles. The fifth Asiddian was tall and slender with dishwater blonde hair. Her large eyes were a startling golden color with dark brown pupils, and her skin was deeply tanned as if she spent at least an hour every day in a tanning booth. Like all Asiddians, her nose was long and its tip had a distinct downward hook. She was dressed in a royal purple, floor length gown festooned with what appeared to be hundreds of tiny diamonds that glittered every time she moved. She wore a sparkling diamond tiara, and the whole ensemble gave Doug the impression she was royalty. At the moment, Blondie had her arms crossed and was frowning.
Glancing at his surroundings, Doug saw he was lying on a cold, tiled floor in a square room twenty-five feet on each side. The walls were made from a dark gray stone imbedded with glittering sparkles that might have been ground quartz. There were no windows. One ornately carved wooden door with cast iron hinges was the only visible access to the chamber, and it was closed. A large alcove in the wall opposite the door was occupied by a broad wooden table covered with various instruments of torture. The most frequently used instruments had dried blood stains visible on their otherwise shiny stainless steel exteriors. Recessed ceiling lights were so bright no one in the room cast a shadow.
Carefully sending a telepathic probe into the surrounding area, Doug felt the thought patterns of Whatsit, Becky, Miguel and GooYee. They were all close-by and beginning to show signs of awakening. At least they were alive.
Focusing his attention on Blondie, he smiled and said, "Greetings. My name is Doug . ."
The rest of his sentence was lost because the guard with her foot on his chest kicked him hard in the mouth. The blow would have broken the jaw of any un-activated human, but all it did was make Doug angry.
Narrowing his eyes and focusing his thoughts, Doug remembered Becky's explanation of how she learned to speak Asiddian. Centering his attention on Blondie, Doug insinuated telepathic tendrils into her spinal cord, followed them upward into her brain and slotted his imaginary USB connection into the language center of the woman's mind. It was the first time he had attempted the Chang technique, and he was astounded how fast the Asiddian language transferred into his brain.
Rolling his jaw to ease the discomfort from the guard's kick, Doug looked at Blondie and said in perfect Asiddian, "If that long nosed, armor plated jerk kicks me again, I'll splatter her all over your nice stone wall."
Pleased by the stunned looks on the women's faces when he spoke their language like a native born Asiddian, Doug nevertheless anticipated the guard's reaction. Incensed at the thought a prisoner would try to speak to Princess Peregrine without permission, the guard again kicked Doug in the mouth. Braced for the impact, Doug barely felt the blow, but his reaction was swift and delivered as promised. Although his feet were secured with heavy duty zip restraints, he lifted his knees to his chin, twisted his body toward the 6 foot 9 inch guard and thrust his bound feet like a battering ram against her armored chest. Driven by the indignant rage Doug felt at being kicked like an unwanted dog and powered by his activated muscles, the results were shocking even to him.
The guard flew through the air a good fifteen feet. The only reason she didn't fly farther was because her body impacted the stone wall of the chamber with a loud clank. Just before toppling dead to the floor, everyone in the room saw the dented armor chest plate with two boot prints where Doug's feet had struck. The only sound in the room came from the heavy metallic thud as the guard's body fell face first to the granite-like floor. A visible outline of the guard's torso and head re
mained etched in the stone wall from the force of the impact.
The remaining guard swung her assault weapon at Doug and would have shot him if Hannah Wren hadn't grabbed the gun's barrel and twisted it away. Even so the weapon discharged and the red laser beam chewed a ten inch hole in the far wall.
"Don't kill him yet! We need him alive."
"Stand down Lt. Goshawk," Blondie ordered. "Get four more of my Royal Guard here at once and advise the coroner to come fetch the body of Captain Finch."
"Yes Your Highness. As you command."
Pushing buttons on the communicator interface built into the forearm of her armor, the guard quietly issued instructions as Peregrine turned her attention to Doug.
"What manner of creature are you?"
Just then the ornate carved door to the chamber opened and four more armored guards entered, surrounding Doug. The story of how Captain Finch died had obviously spread like wildfire. All the new guards maintained a safe six feet of distance between themselves and Doug. Considering the imminent danger of death or serious injury his friends were exposed to from a trigger happy guard, Doug decided the best course of action was to bide his time and try to learn as much as he could.
Dawn of Chrysalis (The Origin of F.O.R.C.E. Book 2) Page 20
