Last of the Chosen (Spirit of Empire, Book One)

by Lawrence P White

  “May I provide an escort home, grandfather?” she asked later.

  “This is my home world. I am not in danger here.”

  “We represent danger, Senator,” Tarn said. “We’ve been on a war footing for some months now.”

  “An escort would just attract attention.”

  “Not if it was me,” Stven said.

  Truax sighed. “Very well, though it’s unusual for a Rress to go about armed.”

  “I’ll be discreet.”

  After they left, Krys turned to Kross. “Am I being paranoid? I’m worried for him.”

  “Possibly, but wouldn’t you like to know if anyone else is showing special interest in him? And wouldn’t he? I’ll have Sheeb follow them. He’ll remain outside the Senator’s grounds, and he will be discreet.”

  When Stven returned, he was almost floating. “What an honor!” he exclaimed. “Never thought I’d see the day I even met him, let alone have twenty minutes of his undivided attention.”

  Krys changed the subject. “We’re on your home world, and we have a few days with nothing planned. Would you like to go home?”

  He considered, then shook his long neck. “No. My place is here. Besides, how would I explain my civilianness when my family knows I’m in the military?”

  “Your call, but we can get by without you for a while if you’d like.”

  “Look, I signed on for the duration, and I’m not taking any chances on you leaving here without me. Okay?”

  She smiled. “Okay.”

  Kross woke her in the middle of the night. “Senator Truax is under observation, Krys. Both visual and electronic.”

  She struggled to fully wake up. “Uh, what does that mean?”

  “If he set up appointments for tomorrow, and if he wasn’t extremely discreet, there may be others listening in on his meetings. That could lead them to us.”

  She blinked, suddenly fully awake. “Isn’t it likely that all the Imperial Senators are under observation right now?”

  “Actually, probably yes.”

  “So it could mean nothing.”

  “The observation might mean nothing, but what they learn from it could mean much.”

  “What do you suggest?”

  “Captain Stven should pay him a visit, find out what’s been said. I can give him something to disrupt the electronic sensors while they talk. I can also have an extraction team ready if needed.”

  “All right. I guess we’d all better get up.”

  Chapter Twenty-seven: Escape From Rrestriss

  Stven arrived at Truax’s home before the Senator left that morning. The conversation was brief, and they left soon after, together. Stven sent a coded message to the effect that in his estimation things were okay but not perfect.

  “I think we’ll keep an eye on the meeting,” Kross said. He sent Trist to the university where Stven and Truax would soon be in discussion with others. Sheeb returned for some well earned sleep.

  At mid-afternoon, Trist reported her discovery of a Grbant with highly sophisticated listening equipment outside the building where the meeting was taking place.

  “Standby to neutralize the equipment, but wait for my command.” Kross ordered her. “I’m on my way.”

  He called Stven, who was in the meeting, and ordered him to stand by. Stven knew from the command that the meeting had been compromised. He would alter the discussions to innocuous topics until Kross arrived.

  “What does it mean, Kross?” Krys asked.

  “Last night’s observation was probably routine, but something has sparked their curiosity. They’re digging deeper. We don’t know what the Grbant learned, but whatever it was, it’s probably known now by whomever he was transmitting to. With another day or two, we could probably find out who’s behind the eavesdropping, but that’s not our task. It’s time to leave this world, Krys.”

  “But we’re not done here.”

  “The Senator has been compromised. Anyone he has talked to is compromised, as well. I don’t think we want Struthers knowing what we or the Senator are doing. It’s also possible that we’ve not detected all the listeners. There could be others.”

  Her shoulders slumped. “All right. Can I go with you?”

  “Yes. I need a driver.” He called Sheeb, who met them at the ramp.

  Krys drove while Kross kept an eye out. Just before they landed, he commanded Trist to move on the surveillance equipment. She stunned the Grbant, gathered up all his equipment and loaded it into her own skimmer, then waited nearby in case Kross needed more help. Sheeb made his own way to the meeting by a separate skimmer to cover the outside of the building.

  Kross sensed no one following them, but that did not mean they weren’t followed. His meeting with Truax would have to be brief. Krys remained with the skimmer while Kross entered the building. Sheeb was nowhere to be seen, but she knew he was there and keeping an eye on her.

  The meeting was brief. Truax had laid a number of options on the table before his associates, two professors. Hidden among several other plans proposed by him was Krys’ plan. He had not used names or given specific details, but it was clear to Kross that the seeds of their plan had been overheard by the Grbant and relayed to his superiors. He informed Truax’s two associates that they would likely be questioned. Both were invited to accompany the Senator off world, but both declined. They were advised to come up with a cover story that did not threaten the Rebels, then they were dismissed.

  Kross turned to the Senator. “You, sir, are not so fortunate. You’ve been compromised, and if you’re taken into custody, you know too many details. We’re leaving Rrestriss. Will you be gracious enough to accompany us?”

  “Never to return? My position as Imperial Senator is more important here now than ever.”

  “It’s more important that you serve the Empire, Senator. You’ll get a better feel for things in time, and you may find it appropriate to return, but for the moment you are not safe here.”

  “They wouldn’t dare touch me. I’m an Imperial Senator.”

  Kross displayed his teeth in a leer. “Tell that to those who were killed at the Palace, Senator. These people are serious. Very serious.”

  Truax blinked, but his thinking was quick. “We must stop them at all cost. I’ll go with you. Do I have time to pack?”

  “No.”

  “Very well. Let’s go.”

  “Is there any way to disguise you?”

  “Not quickly. We Rress don’t wear clothes. With enough alcohol, it’s possible to change our coloring, but it takes days and the process is not comfortable.”

  Sheeb joined them in the skimmer at the last moment, and Krys set off at a sedate pace for the spaceport. Kross insisted she not set off any alarms. Trist was right behind them.

  M’Sada was notified the moment the skimmer lifted, and he set things in motion for departure. When he called for a departure clearance, he was told to stand by. Such a command, though not completely unheard of, was unusual. Flags went off in his mind, and he quickly settled on a plan. He went into the net and called for general quarters, then began powering up the drive. He didn’t need to power up the drive, it was almost instantaneous on military ships, but he wanted to send a signal that this was a civilian ship, just on the off chance that someone was taking a special interest and had sensors trained on them.

  The spaceport controller called him back. ”Rappor, we have a temporary lock-down on the port. It’s going to be a while on that clearance.”

  “What’s a port lock-down? I’ve never heard of a port being locked down.”

  “Neither have I. Stand by while we get this sorted out.”

  He powered down the drive, sending a signal to anyone watching that he was in compliance. Kross was notified, and M’Sada felt like he could hear the growl across the miles separating them.

  “You remember the drill?” Kross demanded.

  “Affirmative.” He sent Tarn to the ramp armed with a blaster. Tarn’s job was to open the ramp whe
n commanded, then close it the moment everyone was aboard.

  The two skimmers didn’t stop in the parking lot. They crossed right over the port boundary and settled beneath the ship. M’Sada gave the command to Tarn as everyone jumped from the skimmers. The ramp opened, then closed as soon as everyone was aboard. M’Sada powered up, ordered the two gunners to do the same, and he was airborne before Stven reached the bridge. He remained at low altitude until out of range of gun platforms at the port, then nosed the ship up and headed for space.

  Stven worked the scanners as M’Sada set the course. “Looks like the local squadron is holding a ways off,” he said. “Not very far off, though.”

  M’Sada took a look and adjusted his course to provide them most distance from the squadron. “Directly away from them?”

  “No. They’re faster than us; it wouldn’t do any good. Head for the nearest jump point.”

  “They’ll catch us before we get there.”

  “I know. They’ll catch us no matter which way we go, but they have no reason to come after us yet. I don’t want to give them one by looking like a smuggler bent on escape.”

  “Uh, I think it’s a little late for that, my friend.”

  They passed by the squadron and just kept going. An hour later, though, the squadron got underway, and toward them. Rappor was fast, but they’d only be half way to their jump point before the squadron caught up. Stven and M’Sada looked at each other as their minds calculated.

  “We need to talk to them,” M’Sada decided. “Maybe they’re the good guys.”

  “Maybe the Senator should talk to them,” Stven said. “He outranks everyone here, including squadron commanders and district governors.”

  “You think the governor is involved?” M’Sada asked in surprise.

  “Who else would give an order like that to the squadron?”

  “We’d better find out.”

  Stven opened a line to the cruiser. “Rappor here,” he stated.

  The officer of the deck, a full commander, answered his call. “Looks like you’re in a hurry, Rappor. You’re new around here. What do they want you for, smuggling?”

  “No, sir. We’re just in a hurry.”

  “Turn back, Rappor. “We’ll get this sorted out on the ground.”

  “May I ask what they told you about us?”

  “You may not. You know the law. Turn around.”

  “I need to talk with the squadron commander.”

  “In your dreams.”

  “It’s an Imperial matter, sir. You, too, know the drill.” Using the word Imperial notched up the stakes considerably, and the commander had no choice. It wasn’t long before the admiral came on the line.

  “Admiral Hastak here. You’ve been ordered to return to Rrestriss, Rappor.”

  “We carry an important passenger, sir. He has pressing matters elsewhere and does not wish to return at the moment.”

  Admiral Hastak hesitated. Issues like this could get complicated. “Who is your passenger?”

  Stven considered. Whoever wanted them back probably knew that Truax was on board, so he wouldn’t be giving anything away. “Senator Truax,” he replied.

  “Truax! Put him on.”

  Stven left the net and called Truax to the bridge. “They want us to return. Admiral Hastak is overtaking us with a squadron. Think you can talk us out of this?”

  “I know him well. It should not be a problem.”

  M’Sada brought Admiral Hastak’s visage to the main screen. “Greetings, Zagma. Are you really threatening us?”

  “Sorry, Senator, but I am. I’ve been asked to have you return to the planet.”

  “I have more pressing duties.”

  “I’m sorry, Senator, but I’ll have to check with the governor.”

  “I understand. Let me know what he says.”

  It didn’t take long. “The governor demands your return, Senator.”

  “He does? How interesting. He must be in on this. He can’t order me, you know. Sorry, but I won’t comply.”

  “You place me in a difficult position. He claims there are some illegalities related to you.”

  “I’ll bet he does. I didn’t know he’d joined with Struthers, and quite frankly, I’m surprised.”

  Hastak stared at him. “This has to do with Struthers?”

  “Let me just say it’s an Imperial matter. Will that suffice?”

  “It would have, but I’m not certain what that means anymore. Stand by, please.”

  The admiral’s connection was cut. Moments later, M’Sada made an announcement over the speakers. “We have company.”

  Stven immediately donned his helmet and joined with M’Sada. An Empire squadron had just emerged from hyperspace far out in the system. A chime sounded, and M’Sada turned to Stven in surprise. “It’s the tightbeam. Someone’s trying to call us.”

  “Why would anyone call a civilian ship on a tightbeam?” They both looked at each other and reached the same conclusion at the same time. “Chandrajuski!” Stven quickly set things up, and an admiral stared back at him.

  “Everything okay, Rappor?”

  “Not exactly. May I ask your intentions, sir?”

  “I’d rather not say too much over the tightbeam. Perhaps we could meet.”

  “That would be . . . difficult. Whom do you represent?”

  “Let’s just say a Friend sends a message to a Friend.”

  “Very well, sir. I just have to get untangled from our present predicament. We left Rrestriss in a pretty unusual manner, and we’ve been ordered to return.”

  “Hmm. Let me make a call. I’ll be back.”

  It wasn’t too long before the Rrestriss squadron reduced speed to match Rappor’s. They still remained in a position to overtake, but the threat lessened. If things stayed as they were for very long, Rappor would reach a position where she could join the incoming squadron and have some protection, assuming the incoming squadron was friendly, of course.

  A chime sounded again, but this time it came from Admiral Hastak. Stven hesitated, uncertain if he should display his own tightbeam capabilities.

  “What do you think, M’Sada?”

  “He wouldn’t have called if he didn’t know. I think the incoming squadron commander told him. The secret’s out, Captain.”

  Stven completed the link. Admiral Hastak was waiting, and this time he had words for Stven, not Senator Truax. “I’ve been ordered to withdraw. You’re free to go, Rappor.”

  “Ordered by whom?” Stven asked in surprise.

  “Admiral Buskin. Actually, it was a request. He was not very specific, but I think we may share the same . . . sympathies. There are some issues with the district governor that will make my return unpleasant. He suggests you might have a message for me, and possibly orders.”

  Stven thought hard. This could be a set-up. He might be better off just leaving as quickly as he could.

  M’Sada broke into his thoughts. “Tough call, Stven. Would you like me to get Krys up here? Or Kross?”

  “Not yet. Let’s flesh it out first. She’ll agree to anything if it furthers her purpose. I don’t trust these guys, and it’s our job to see she lives long enough to work on the big picture.”

  “Agreed, my friend. Your job just got harder. We have more company,” M’Sada said.

  A single Chessori trader had materialized very close to where the incoming squadron had come out of hyper. What was it doing here, Stven wondered? Rrestriss was about as close to the galactic core as any civilized world could be. Were the Chessori trading this far into the Empire?

  “It emerged from hyper right at the same coordinates Admiral Buskin came out. I know. I checked,” M’Sada said.

  “Long odds.”

  “So long that it boggles the imagination. I’ve never seen it happen, but you told me you had.”

  “You’re right!” Stven recalled in surprise. “At Dorwall! A Chessori trader materialized right where we would have been if we hadn’t moved.” They looked at
each other in alarm, their thoughts calculating.

  M’Sada got there first. “At Dorwall, they must have been called. Here, it’s as if they were following.”

  “Both impossible, my friend.”

  “It is for us. It’s also impossible for 15 of their ships to take out 42 of ours with hardly a shot fired.” M’Sada mentally backed away all of a sudden. “No, Stven!” But he was too late. Two large puffs escaped from Stven’s nostrils. M’Sada tore the helmet from his head and scurried for the door on his eight lower hands, his two upper hands preening furiously to clean the smell from his two long antennae. The pain sometimes proved too much for him.

  Stven called Tarn to take over the piloting while he considered. Meetings in space with admirals always meant you joined them on their ships, not the other way around, but for him to join with Admiral Hastak, he would have to bring Rappor aboard the cruiser. That was putting all his eggs in one basket, something he was unwilling to do. There was another way, used only when small ships made transfers, but he’d never heard of an admiral using it. He got back on the tightbeam.

  “Sir, a meeting would be beneficial, but I cannot let my ship be taken aboard the cruiser.”

  “Admiral Buskin inferred as much. I’m prepared to join you.”

  “You are, sir?”

  “You sound surprised. Would you be a little more familiar with military procedures than your current status indicates?”

  If a Rress could squirm, Stven squirmed. “I might, sir.”

  “Excellent! We understand each other, then.”

  “Just you, sir.”

  “No, I’ll bring my adjutant, and we’ll have a pilot who will remain aboard my shuttle. I haven’t docked one of these things in a long while, but Admiral Buskin has been persuasive. We’ll come unarmed.”

  “And your squadron? Sir?”

  “You’ll have to reduce speed for me to catch up. My squadron will hold its present separation. Only my shuttle will approach.”

  “Very well, sir.” Stven broke the connection, issued instructions to Tarn, then called Krys and the Great Cats to the bridge. He briefed them, and Kross led his team to the hatch.

  “Stven,” Krys asked when it was just the two of them, “why am I just learning of this now?”