The Dark Star War (Codex Regius Book 3)
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“Opportunities for what?” Farhome asked.
“To stay alive, for a start.”
“And then what?”
“As soon as I figure it out,” Calvin replied, “you’ll be the first person I tell.”
Chapter Eight
Bridge, TSS Vella Gulf, 61 Virginis, December 13, 2021
“Captain Sheppard, I am getting a transmission from the planet,” the communications officer said. “There is someone who wants to beam up.”
“Aren’t we about out of range for that?” Captain Sheppard asked.
“Yes sir, we are,” Steropes replied. “Whoever is coming is taking a risk this far out; they could easily be disassembled.”
“Did they say who it was?” Captain Sheppard asked.
“No sir,” the communications officer replied. “I asked and they refused to say.”
Captain Sheppard looked to his left. “Night, would you go meet our guest in the Transporter Room?”
Night nodded. “This is kind of irregular, sir.”
“It is,” Captain Sheppard agreed. “Why don’t you take several of your troops as an honor guard? Have them armed, but don’t be obvious about it.”
“Yes sir,” Night replied. He commed the duty officer on his way to the transporters, and Sergeants Brian Mchugh and Steph Taylor met him there. Both had laser rifles; Sergeant Mchugh had two.
“Here you go,” Mchugh said, handing one to Night.
“Thanks,” Night said. He nodded to the transporter technician. “Beam ‘em up.”
A dark smear appeared above one of the pads, coalescing into a large, black Mrowry holding a rolled up piece of paper.
“Present arms!” Night ordered. “Welcome to the Vella Gulf, Your Highness!”
“Thank you,” Emperor Yazhak said. “I would prefer, however, if you didn’t emphasize my presence. Is it possible to meet your commanding officer somewhere private?”
“He will meet you in his conference room,” Night replied after a quick call.
Cargo Bay, Jotunn Shuttle, Sssellississ, December 13, 2021
The shuttle lifted and lurched to the side, throwing everyone from their feet.
Calvin ran to one of the window seats and clambered onto it so he could look out.
“What was that?” Farhome asked. “Are we hit?”
“No,” Calvin replied, his voice low enough only Farhome could hear. “The Shaitans hit the destroyer with something big, probably something from orbit. It’s gone.” He climbed down from the seat.
“Hee, hee, hee, I’ll say one thing,” Farhome commented; “being around you is never dull.”
“Yeah, sometimes I wish my life wasn’t quite so exciting.” Calvin replied, waving a hand to indicate their surroundings.
“So what are we going to do now?”
Calvin looked back up at the window. The sky outside was turning black as the shuttle continued to climb.
“Well, it looks like we’re headed to the Jotunn mother ship, and when we get there, I suspect this shuttle isn’t going to fly again until it gets inspected. I think we should find some good hiding places and see what happens once we get there. Maybe an opportunity will present itself—” He stopped suddenly. “Hey, where did the kids go?”
“Ha, ha, ha, where do kids normally go?” Farhome asked. “To get in trouble someplace, I’m sure!” He giggled again and added, “It’s what kids do best.”
“Yeah,” Calvin replied; “that’s what I’m worried about.”
Calvin led Farhome toward the forward end of the cargo bay, worried that the youths had gone to the cockpit and been seen, but saw them returning from different directions to gather at the front of the cargo bay. He jogged the rest of the way to meet them.
“Where did you go?” Calvin asked.
“I sent the males to see what they could find,” Burkuri explained. “I told them to stay out of the cockpit, but to look for hiding places everywhere else. I also had them look for weapons or anything else useful.”
“What did you guys find?” Calvin asked.
“I searched the weapons lockers,” Reyl reported. “Unfortunately, all their weapons are too large for us to use. Even their smallest ones would have to be crew-served although there were two grenades we could probably make small bombs out of.”
“Crew-served weapons?” Calvin asked. “Making bombs? How old are you kids, anyway?”
“We are only a few weeks from adulthood,” Burkuri said. “We have already completed our fleet apprenticeship training schools and been given our orders. We were just waiting for our final shedding prior to shipping out.”
“Yeah, shedding is nasty enough to do on-planet,” Syrusss explained. “I wouldn’t want to shed in space. It would clog up a spacesuit something awful.”
“You’ve already been through space training?” Calvin repeated incredulously. “As kids? What did you train as?”
“We are a…um…team,” Burkuri said looking at the deck.
“What kind of a team?” Calvin asked.
“We’re a—” Reyl said.
“He wouldn’t understand,” Burkuri interjected, cutting her brother off. “Father said not to talk about it with him.”
“What wouldn’t I understand?”
“It’s nothing,” Burkuri said. “Our societies are very different, and we do things Father said you wouldn’t be comfortable with.”
“Wait a minute!” Calvin exclaimed. “Your father said you were my responsibility now, and that you were supposed to listen to me. What kind of a team are you?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Burkuri said. “Can’t you just leave it alone?”
“No I can’t,” Calvin replied after considering it for a few moments. “I’m the military leader here. I can’t effectively use your training and skills if I don’t know what they are.” He paused, but Burkuri remained silent. “Tell me!” he ordered.
Burkuri hissed. “Remember, you wanted to know,” she said. “We’re an Urban Pacification and Control Team.”
“Okay,” Calvin said. “And what does one of those do?”
“We go into unprepared locations and take charge of the local population.”
“And what skills do you have for that?”
Burkuri hissed again, her dismay evident. Finally she shook her head and commanded, “Team, atten-hut!” The brothers came to positions of attention. “Sound off!”
“I am the team executive officer and explosives expert,” Reyl said. “I also handle psychological operations.”
“I take care of communications and information technology,” said Syrusss, “as well as the exploitation of same.”
“I’m the heavy weapons expert,” Karver said, flexing his muscles.
“I handle intel and reconnaissance,” Paxton said. “I go places no one else can.”
“And I am the team lead,” Burkuri said; “I handle selection and command and control. All of us also have certain other scavenging and reclamation skills, and we are trained to use most light weapons.”
“Wait a minute,” Calvin broke in as he processed what he had heard. “Take charge of the local population? What does that mean?”
“We prepare them for processing,” Burkuri replied. “You asked for our skills and training, and we have given them to you. Father told me not to tell you any more than that. He said you would be happier not knowing.”
Calvin had a bad feeling, but he had to know. “What do you mean by, ‘Prepare them for processing’?”
Burkuri cocked her head and stared at Calvin for a few seconds before answering. “Remember, you wanted to know.” Her head came back to vertical. “We are trained to go to recently captured planets and interact with the local population. We find out who the troublemakers are and kill them. This makes the rest of the population easier to herd. We deal with insurgents. Permanently. We also select who will be turned into food first, so the remaining ones will be easier to handle. We are the choosers of the slain.”
Chapter Nine
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CO’s Conference Room, Vella Gulf, 61 Virginis, December 13, 2021
“Welcome aboard,” Captain Sheppard said as the emperor strode into the conference room.
The Mrowry looked back through the doorway and waved for Lieutenant Rrower to join them. The younger Mrowry entered, and Night closed the door, waiting outside with the troopers.
“What can I do for you?” Captain Sheppard asked.
“I have two reasons for coming to the Vella Gulf,” the emperor said. He turned to Lieutenant Rrower. “The first is a word of guidance for my grandson.” He stared at the younger Mrowry as if taking his measure. Lieutenant Rrower withstood the gaze, unflinching. After several long seconds, the emperor seemed to see what he was looking for.
“You are headed to the border between our systems and the Ssselipsssiss,” the emperor continued, “and I do not know what you will find there. I wish it were possible for me to come as well, but my place is here. Depending on what is happening there, decisions affecting the empire will have to be made. You alone of the Mrowry have seen enough of the enemy to take their measure and know what must be done.” He held out the roll of paper he carried to his grandson.
“As a member of my household, you have always had the ability to take charge of a single ship if required by the circumstances. This writ allows you to take charge of the fleet, on a temporary basis, if you find it necessary to support the Terran’s hero. Do not abuse this privilege or take it lightly, as I will require a complete accounting when you return. Do you understand?”
“Yes, grandfather, I understand,” Lieutenant Rrower replied. “I will use it only if necessary.”
“See that you do.” The emperor stared at his grandson for a few moments longer, as if to impress upon him the gravity of the situation, then turned to Captain Sheppard.
“My other reason for coming is of even greater importance and sensitivity,” the emperor said. “I have given it a lot of thought since we spoke, and I have come to ask for the secret of the jump modules.”
“I see…” Captain Sheppard replied. “I figured your visit had to be something of great importance for you to transport this far out.”
“I know how much of a favor it is to ask for the secret of the modules,” the emperor admitted; “if my race were to conduct a technology transfer of this magnitude, it would require my personal approval. I’m sure you would normally have to receive permission from Terra to give it to us; however, the times we find ourselves in are anything but normal. The Aesir are being overrun by the Jotunn and the Shaitans; the Ssselipsssiss also appear to be victims of the Shaitans. Every day brings them closer to my border, and I can’t be sure when you’ll be back.”
The emperor said “when,” not “if,” but the word hung in the air nonetheless.
“The Ssselipsssiss are being driven back into our systems,” the emperor continued; “it is likely their enemy will wipe them out soon, and then the enemy will be on our borders. If we don’t have the technology to fight them, you may return from your mission to the Dark Star to find us overrun, as well. In fact, I find this outcome fairly likely.”
“You’re right about a couple of things,” Captain Sheppard replied after thinking a few seconds; “permission for such a transfer would normally have to come from Terra. Normally. You’re also right about the times not being normal.”
The CO nodded once. “I will give you the replicator blueprints for the jump modules. Hopefully, Fleet Command won’t throw me in the brig for it.” He smiled. “Just don’t pass them on to anyone else, okay?”
Cargo Bay, Jotunn Shuttle, Sssellississ Orbit, December 13, 2021
Calvin’s jaw dropped, and he paused, unable to speak. The ‘children’ were trained to kill people like himself on any planet the Ssselipsssiss invaded. Kill them and send them to the butcher to be turned into food. He could feel himself going green and his stomach revolting at the thought.
“Nice kids you’ve got there,” Farhome said. “Hee, hee, Captain Skrelleth’s spaceship probably had a sticker on it that said, ‘My kids chose your honor student to eat first.’ This is going to be way more fun than falling into a super nova.” He doubled up in laughter.
Calvin took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Farhome’s reaction wasn’t helping. All five Ssselipsssiss still stood at attention, looking at him. They looked tense…probably getting ready to kill him if he took their revelation poorly. Their father had told them not to eat Calvin; he hoped they still remembered that.
“At ease,” Calvin said, and they relaxed a little. A very little. “We’re not going to have any problems,” Calvin continued,” although your father was right; I didn’t want to know that, nor will any others of my kind, should we make it back to civilization. Still, you have a broad range of skills; you’re almost your own little special forces team. Not only will we be able to put your skills to good use, but those skills are also the ones we happen to need at the moment.”
“What can we do to help?” Burkuri asked.
“First off, remember that having an education isn’t the same as having experience,” Calvin warned. “Don’t try to do too much, too fast. There aren’t many of us, and we’re all important.”
The Ssselipsssiss gave short hisses of agreement.
“Here’s what I’m expecting,” Calvin explained. “I think we’re going back to the Jotunn mother ship, which is probably one of the battlecruisers. Since this shuttle was close to a number of explosions, they will probably want to shut it down and check for battle damage. The pilot won’t do it; some of their maintenance technicians will. The pilot will probably just leave and turn the craft over to maintenance to get it checked and serviced. So, the first objective is to hide so we don’t get seen by the pilot.”
Calvin looked at the group and couldn’t tell whether they understood or not. “I don’t know Ssselipsssiss body language very well,” Calvin said, “so if you understand and agree, do this.” He nodded. All five nodded back at him.
The shuttle jerked suddenly.
“Okay, we don’t have much time,” Calvin noted. “That was probably the tractor beam which will pull us aboard. So, we will hide until the pilot leaves, then we will meet back up. After that, we’ll try to find a place to hide on the mother ship while we figure out what to do next.”
“Air ducts are great for moving around unseen,” said Paxton, “and if everything on the mother ship is oversized like it is on this shuttle, we shouldn’t have any problems moving around in them.”
“Yeah, they would work well,” Calvin agreed; “however, you have to remember the ceilings onboard the ship are going to be about 20 feet high.” He looked up at the overhead. “They are going to be difficult to get to.”
The shuttle bumped as it touched down.
“Okay we’re here, and we’re out of time. Everyone, go hide. We’ll meet back here after the pilot leaves.”
Cargo Bay, Jotunn Shuttle, Sssellississ Orbit, December 13, 2021
Calvin peered out the shuttle’s cargo bay. The pilot had turned the craft around prior to landing, so he had a view of the interior of the ship, not space.
It looked like any hangar he had ever been in, only on a much grander scale. Spare parts were stacked in enormous piles, oversized crates sat against the towering bulkheads and massive ground vehicles drove back and forth carrying gigantic gear from place to place. Calvin would have felt at home…if everything didn’t make him feel so small.
Finally, he saw what he was looking for and returned to the forward part of the cargo bay where everyone was waiting for him.
“I’ve got some good news, and I’ve got some bad news,” he whispered.
“Ooooh! I love this game!” Farhome exclaimed. “Give us the good news first!” His voice had a new tone Calvin had never heard before. It was thin and reedy, as if missing something. No; Calvin realized with horror he had heard Farhome’s voice like this before—the first time Calvin had met him…right before Farhome had tried to kill him. It was
the fully-crazed Farhome talking.
“I found a vent,” Calvin reported; “it’s to the left as you come down the ramp, next to a pile of crates.”
“Now wreck our hopes with the bad news,” Farhome urged. He looked at the Ssselipsssiss, shivering in anticipation, and added, “This is my favorite part.”
“As I expected, it’s about 18 feet up,” Calvin continued, ignoring Farhome.
“Sounds like fun,” Farhome said. “Let me look.”
Farhome crept to the aft of the shuttle and returned after looking out the hatch for a few seconds.
“I can do it,” Farhome said. “I think. Well, I’m actually pretty sure I can. Most of me says ‘yes.’ It’s just the smallest part of me that says ‘no,’ and he’s usually wrong. Too defeatist, you know? Overall, though, most of me thinks it can be done. I’m pretty sure, anyway. Certainly, the biggest part of me says ‘yes.’”
Calvin’s eyebrows narrowed. It sounded like Farhome had lost it. “Umm…how many people are in your head?”
“You mean right now?” Farhome asked. Seeing Calvin nod, Farhome shrugged. “I don’t know; I quit counting. There were too many, and they all kept shifting around, and some played hide-and-seek. It got to be really frustrating, so I quit.” He paused, then asked, “Want to hear a poem?”
“Now?” Calvin asked. “Do you really think now is a good time?”
“Absolutely!” Farhome exclaimed. “I’m glad you asked. There’s always time for poetry.” He smiled. “I borrowed this from some Terran poetry I heard. Here goes:
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
I’m a schizophrenic,
And so am I.”
“Isn’t that a good one?” Farhome giggled. “It’s one of my favorites.” He smiled, obviously pleased with himself.