Junkyard Dogs series Omnibus

by Phillip Nolte

  I have been able to glean a little more information on our special passenger. He is not allowed to interact with myself or any of my crew but I overheard one of his handlers refer to him as 'the young Prince.' I can't know for certain but there is a distinct possibility that we are transporting none other than Prince Merrikh of Jasmine himself! I cannot think of anyone else that my former allies would have gone through so much trouble for.

  Dobbins out..."

  That turned out to be the last entry contained in any of the downloaded material. Over the next two hours, Carlisle looked through the remainder of the files that Heskim had been able to pull off from the other Veritian computer drives but she was unable to find any additional information. To her immense frustration, the recorded logs from the Captain of the Veritian derelict concluded at this tantalizing but ultimately inconclusive point.

  The brief reference to "the young Prince" was not the definitive proof she was looking for but it was the strongest evidence to date that Prince Merrikh may have survived the final battle. He wouldn't have been killed when the Alexandria was destroyed because he had no longer been on the ship. She rolled these thoughts and others around in her mind while she went to find Kresge.

  She found him at his customary station on the bridge of the Greyhound. Irene Marshall and Allison Steuben were with him again and the three of them were tallying up the wealth of badly needed materials that had just been brought into the system by the two freighters from Heard's World.

  Kresge looked anything but unhappy about the intrusion.

  "Ensign Carlisle," he said, "What can I do for you?"

  "I have some more information on my special research project, Commander."

  Kresge turned to his fiancé, "Can you excuse me for a few minutes?"

  Irene smiled at him and with a twinkle in her eye said, "With all due respect, Commander, we can probably do this better without you! How about Allison and I finish this up and give you a full report afterwards?"

  Kresge tried but couldn't completely hide his relief. "Carry on," he said as he got up from the station. He turned to Carlisle, "Let's go to my ready room."

  The two of them went the short distance down the corridor to Kresge's office. He closed the door behind them and they both took a seat.

  "Okay, show me what you've found, Ensign," he said.

  Carlisle brought up a holo projection with her wrist computer and showed him the short video containing the new information. They both sat in silence for a few moments after it had finished.

  "Not the rock solid proof you were looking for," said Kresge, finally, "but it certainly brings all of what we think we know about the Prince into question."

  "These videos seem to answer a lot of questions," Commander," said the Ensign. "How and why the Veritian derelict escaped. Too bad the information on the mysterious passenger is still too vague to be really useful."

  "The fact that we have the strongest evidence to date that the Prince actually survived the final battle is still pretty big news, Ensign. Maybe if we check into some of the reports regarding the Prince from after the war that were dismissed because he was thought to be dead, we can find some new leads."

  Carlisle still looked disappointed.

  "But it seemed like I was so close..." she said.

  "Don't worry, Ensign, something else will come up. By the way, I have been discussing the Succession War with Amanda and Faiza as part of their studies. You should tell them what you just found out. They'd probably find it really interesting."

  "You know, I haven't talked them for quite a while. I'll go and do it right now," said Carlisle.

  The two of them got up and left the ready room.

  Kresge, following the explicit orders he had received from his fiancé, did not return to helping with the inventory.

  Chapter 46.

  "...Not everyone who has the capability to be a great leader is willing to take on the responsibility. On the other side of the coin, not everyone who wants to be a leader, has the capability. Sadly, I'm afraid, we have always had too many leaders who fall into the latter group.

  Far too many!..."

  Hartwell wrist computer note highlighted for further review by Tamara Carlisle. Quote is attributed to Dr, F.C. Talbot and was recorded during an interview with Rebecca Tyndall of the Intergalactic Digital Press

  Santana Nexus Station, ring ten, level one, January 11, 2599.

  Gazwhan Kassab, Captain of the defected Jasmine Republican Navy Cruiser, Hercules, was responding to a request to attend an audience with the Sheik of Barsoom on the Santana Nexus Station. He was only too happy to do so. The mind-numbing routine of presiding over a ship lying parked near one of the Santana System's hyperlink zones, essentially doing...nothing, was becoming oppressive. Though Kassab would grudgingly admit that maintaining power to the device that was cutting off transportation between Sol-Terra and the Santana Nexus was an important task, there was little glory in it. Perhaps this private meeting with the Sheik of Barsoom would provide an opportunity for him to get closer to the action he craved.

  Kassab always traveled with his own armed guards and today, onboard the Santana Nexus Station, was no exception. He and his two men were directed to the Sheik's private offices but when they arrived, the Sheik's own guards, posted at the door, informed the Captain that they could not permit him to enter without surrendering his sidearm. His personal guards were told they would have to wait outside as well. After handing over his pulse pistol, Kassab gave his men a nod, to assure them that it would be alright. Only after all of these preliminary precautions were completed was he admitted into the Sheik's presence.

  Kassab had only met the Sheik a few times and had never actually spoken with the leader face to face, with just the two of them present. The fact that Kassab had possession of the most powerful ship in the Sheik's fleet and it was this ship that was currently keeping the might of the Federation out of the Santana Quadrant meant, in the Captain's mind anyway, that the two of them would meet as equals.

  "Ah, Captain, Kassab," began the Sheik, as he stood up but did not come out from behind his desk. "Do come in. Please, have a seat."

  "Peace be onto you, my Sheik," replied Kassab.

  The Sheik acknowledged the greeting with a nod, "and to you, Captain Kassab."

  The two men sat down.

  "I am having some coffee sent in. I hope you like New Ceylon Arabica?"

  "Some coffee will be fine," said Kassab.

  The two men made small talk about the burdens of command and the challenges of boredom setting in while their men waited for something to happen. A server came in with a tray that had a small urn of coffee, two cups, cream, sugar and a plate of very fine cookies. The server poured them each a cup and bowed before he left. The two men each added the ingredients they preferred to their respective cups.

  "You must try these cookies, Captain, two of my soldiers found them at a small import shop up on the third ring of the Station. They are from Jasmine and are simply divine!"

  Kassab selected one of the cookies and took a bite. They were indeed delicious. He followed that with a generous sip of the coffee which turned out to be exquisite as well.

  "You are probably wondering why I asked you to a private audience with me," began the Sheik.

  Kassab could think of a number of reasons why the old fool would want and need to talk to him but he decided it was probably best to allow the Sheik to reveal his own thoughts in his own good time.

  "It is an honor, my Sheik, but I confess that your invitation did catch me a little off guard," was his careful reply.

  "Excellent," said the Sheik, "I see that you are a man of caution."

  Kassab did not reply but merely gave the Sheik a short nod of affirmation. The Sheik's next statement caught him by surprise.

  "I needed to talk to you to ask you if I can count on your support for the next phase of my Glorious Revolution."

  "I assume you are referring to a confrontation with the current gove
rnment of Jasmine?" said Kassab.

  "Yes, of course, but Jasmine is nearly ours already. The Commander of the Navy has secretly pledged to support our cause. When the time is right, we just need to show up there with a fleet of our ships and, with the might of the Jasmine Navy behind us, the opposition will be so intimidated that our victory will be quick and almost bloodless." He paused to let that sink in before continuing, "Jasmine is only the beginning, however. I have my sights set on a much greater prize...I am talking about assuming control of the entire Islamic Alliance. I will need your support for the far more challenging conquests posed by Meridian and New Saudi Arabia."

  Kassab had heard rumblings about the Sheik's plans but the rumors tended to be so audacious that he had failed to take them seriously. The revelation that Sheik's ambitions actually did go way beyond Jasmine caught the Captain totally off guard and he hoped that his shock wasn't too obvious as he sought to assimilate at least some of the implications during the short time it took him to formulate what he hoped was an appropriate response.

  "Umm...What did you have in mind for me, my Sheik?" he replied, finally.

  "I think perhaps command of the Bahamut would be a just reward for your loyalty."

  The Bahamut was one of only two genuine, full-blown battleships in the Jasmine Navy. Though she was currently decommissioned and would have to be returned to operational status, command of such a ship would indeed be a promotion and an honor of no mean stature! A genuine battleship would be vital to the success of any campaign that sought to prevail against the Naval might of Meridian and New Saudi Arabia. If this offer was legitimate, Kassab would be elevated to the status of being one of the most powerful figures in the Sheik's hierarchy!

  "I am humbled by such an honor, my Sheik," replied Kassab, shocked all over again at the enormity of the offer. He had come to the meeting hoping for a modest expansion of his responsibilities. He had no idea that this Sheik had intended to offer him command of one of the mightiest battleships in all of human space!

  "I had thought you would be favorably impressed. I'm afraid the Hercules will need to remain where she is for the foreseeable future, as she is keeping the Federation from meddling in our business. Perhaps we shall open the hyperlink zone once we have consolidated our power in this Quadrant, when it will be too late for them to do anything about it. In the meantime, you should stay here on the Nexus Station for a while. If we are to be running an empire together, I would like to get to know you better. That and we are having a meeting to officially announce the start of our Glorious Revolution in two days' time. My ships and my men are gathering here from all over the quadrant. You will sit at my right side during the meetings."

  "I am honored, my Sheik," replied Kassab, still coming to grips with the enormity of what had just transpired between him and the overall leader of the Revolution.

  The Sheik stood up, indicating that the meeting had come to an end. He ushered Kassab out and called to the Captain of his guard. The Captain came into the office and closed the door behind him.

  "I am at your service, Sire."

  "Guard that fool well, Akif, he is too ambitious for his own good and will bear watching. When the time is right he must be...removed as a threat. You understand what I mean, don't you?"

  The guard captain remained silent and nodded as he drew his finger across his throat.

  The Sheik nodded in return.

  In the meantime, Captain Gazwhan Kassab, currently making his way back to his temporary quarters, was coming to the conclusion that the Sheik's offer was indeed too good to be true. Way too good!

  He would do well to watch his back.

  Chapter 47.

  UTFN Reclamation Center, onboard Federation Auxiliary ship Greyhound, January 11, 2599.

  It was shortly after lunchtime on the Greyhound and the two youngest members of the Junkyard Dogs, Amanda and Faiza, had indeed been interested in the news about the Prince of Jasmine that Carlisle had shared with them. They had spent perhaps a half hour discussing the importance of the old video logs before Carlisle excused herself, telling them truthfully that she needed to go and get some rest.

  Having spent most of the morning working on their military studies, the two young women decided to dedicate a portion of the afternoon working on their literature assignments. Kresge hadn't told them what he wanted them to read, instead, he had provided them with an extensive list of authors and titles from all sorts of literary genres and the two apprentice cadets were being allowed to make their own choices. Amanda was looking at the genre that Kresge had suggested that they start with, a category of literature had flourished throughout the 1900's and continued to be popular in some form even in the present day: Science Fiction. What had caught her eye was a familiar name: Asimov, the same name as the destroyer that had just recently joined the Junkyard Dogs at the Scrapyard.

  "Faiza," she said, "you should see this. Did you know there was a famous author named 'Asimov,' the same as the destroyer outside. I wonder if that's where the name for the ship came from?"

  "I'd say that was probably a pretty good bet," replied Faiza. "I think there's also a ship called the H.G. Wells and another one called the Jules Verne. After you build enough ships, you start running out of names for them. I can certainly think of a worse way to name a starship!"

  "I wonder what else is in this database?" said Amanda as she scrolled down a list of ancient science fiction stories. "War of the Worlds, From the Earth to the Moon, The Foundation Series...," her voice tapered off and she continued to read silently until finally..."Oh, look at this, it's Barsoom, just like the sheik of Barsoom."

  "Really?" said Faiza. "That's interesting. Show me."

  "Right here, John Carter of Mars, which was called Barsoom by the make-believe Martians who were the natives of the planet."

  Faiza's face turned to a look of pure astonishment. Shaking her head in disbelief, she said, "My goodness...you don't suppose...no, even he wouldn't be so bold!"

  "Whatever are you talking about Faiza?"

  "The suspected to be long-dead Prince Merrikh of Jasmine, the same one that Carlisle was just talking about! He was reported to be bold and reckless but who would have ever dreamed?"

  "I'll ask again," said a now totally confused Amanda, "Whatever are you talking about,"

  "It's been right under our noses the entire time. The Sheik of Barsoom. It's that made-up word Barsoom, Amanda!"

  "Barsoom? Mars? Why are they so important?"

  "Because Merrikh is the Arabic word for Mars!"

  "Then that means...," said Amanda. She stopped with her mouth open as the implications struck home.

  "...That the Sheik of Barsoom is almost certainly the long lost Prince Merrikh!" exclaimed Faiza,"This is some of the best evidence yet that he is still alive. We must tell my father and Commander Kresge at once. The Prince of Jasmine is trying to start the Succession War all over again!"

  "And I thought we'd never get anything useful out of these reading assignments," said Amanda but she found she was talking to herself as her friend had already left the room in rush. She closed down her wrist computer display with a wave of her hand and got up to go after Faiza. If nothing else, the conversation with Kresge should prove to be interesting!

  ***

  Kresge called a napping Carlisle and told her come back to his office as soon as he had listened to and grasped the importance of the information that the two young women had stumbled upon.

  "This may be the information we've been looking for, Ensign. With your videos suggesting that the Prince survived the war and our two cadets making the connection that Barsoom and Mars and Merrikh are all the same name, I'm ready to declare that the Sheik of Barsoom is the long lost Prince Merrikh!"

  Ambassador Saladin was initially skeptical but when they showed him all of the evidence, he was forced to agree with them. One problem was that recent photographs or videos of the Sheik were difficult if not impossible to find. Merrikh was probably very wisely avoiding situ
ations where he could be captured on any kind of video in order to protect his identity. The few videos they had of the Sheik, when compared to images of the young Prince Merrikh, didn't rule out that he was the same man but they didn't do much to confirm his identity either. Though such devices were really no longer needed, it was a long-standing tradition among Islamic leaders to wear a type of darkened eyewear, called "starshades" or "sunglasses" when they appeared in public. All of the recent videos of the Sheik -- and there weren't many of them -- showed him wearing an elaborate pair of wrap-around starshades. His full beard and mustache didn't help the situation either.

  "If Barsoom really is Merrikh then we have to conclude that all of this terrorist activity has really just been the prelimary action of something far bigger," said Kresge, "What do you want to bet that he wants to rekindle the Succession War!"

  "And he's having a big meeting at the Santana Nexus in a couple of days to kick it all off!" added Carlisle.

  "With the Quadrant cut off from the Federation," said Kresge, "he has a very good chance of pulling this off!"

  "It appears as though we have no choice, Commander," said the Ambassador, "Our attack on the Santana Nexus Station must go forward at once. These people must be stopped at all costs!"

  Chapter 47.

  UTFN Reclamation Center, onboard Federation Auxiliary ship Greyhound, January 12, 2599.

  The two mining ships with delegations from Patagonia and Piedmont arrived in the middle of the following day. With them was the City of Darwin, also laden with supplies and the Aladdin, captured at Piedmont and now manned by a contingent of personnel from the mining station including Security Chief Chris Hartmann and Governor Fitzhugh. The Aladdin was also carrying all of the supplies she could hold.

  Kresge set up a meeting to plan strategy and decided to convene the meeting in the front hold of the Greyhound. It would be crowded with all of those who would be attending but none of them, even the Ambassador, was completely sure that they had ferreted out all of the informants on the Istanbul. The integrity of the next plan of action for the Junkyard Dogs was far too important to risk any possible compromise.