by T. R. Harris
The crew of the Najmah Fayd—the Star Panther, as Riyad had named her—was an eclectic mix. Humans and Formilians were fairly well-known, but not so the four-and-a-half-foot tall gray mutant Panur or the seven-foot-tall former Sol-Kor queen J’nae. As a consequence, Adam took the lead.
“What’s the problem?” he asked the grim-looking Incus native.
“Terrorist protocols,” said the s-shaped, five-foot tall creature with the face of a Shar-pei dog. “With Incus located near the edge of the galaxy, we are on alert for any intruders attempting to make landfall.”
“You mean the Nuor?”
“Yes—and others. We know not who they may be, but as you can see from the landing field, danger can come in many forms, even those familiar with us.”
“I’m a Human; you surely can’t count us as a threat?”
“It was a Human who caused this damage. Perhaps you have heard of him: Adam Cain.”
Adam grimaced. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea for him to take the lead.
“I’ve heard of him; but didn’t he liberate the Frontier from the Juireans? And Incus was on the verge of economic collapse at the time, with the aliens stripping you clean of your resources and making you work for next to nothing. I would think you would be thanking him for his actions.”
“His actions left us without exterior customers willing to purchase our products, leaving us in worst shape than before.” The wrinkled face of the alien wrinkled even more. “You seem very well-informed, visitor. What is your name?”
“Denver. John Denver,” Adam blurted without thinking.
“And why are you here?”
“Indeed, we’re here to negotiate a sizeable purchase from Advanced Plasma Objects. You should find that welcoming.”
“It will help them, not me. I work for the port authority. Who else is aboard?”
“A Formilian and two others of minor races; I represent diverse business interests.”
The alien referred to the datapad in his hands. “Length of stay?”
“Short—maybe only a few hours to a few days.”
“You can conclude your major purchase in such a short time?”
“A lot has been pre-negotiated,” Adam answered. This Incus was sharp.
“Will you be staying in this vessel or in Ennis?”
“Here.”
“In that case, you and your party will need repeat-entry passes.” He worked on the datapad for a few moments. “You can pick them up at the pass kiosk in the terminal.” He looked down at the MK-47 flash weapon strapped around Adam’s waist. “No weapons allowed off-ship, especially not those made by our Maris-Kliss competitors.”
“Sorry. I’ll take it off and tell the others. Is there anything else?”
The Incus official eyed Adam suspiciously for a moment before slowly nodding. “No. That will be all for now. Enjoy your stay on Incus.”
The alien’s tone was less than welcoming. Adam didn’t care. Hopefully they wouldn’t be here very long.
********
“I’m worried,” Adam said to Panur. “We’ve been on Incus for two days and still no sign of Sherri and the others. And no communications, either. Every outgoing CW link we send is met with static.”
The person they’d come to see on Incus—the scientist Dacus Zoffis—was not on the planet, but expected to return at any time. That left the crew of the Najmah Fayd bored and restless…and worried. At Adam was worried.
“It’s apparent they have encountered some kind of tragedy; it’s the only explanation. Yet this is a good thing,” Panur replied.
“A good thing!”
“Yes. It means my calculations were correct. So even without actual confirmation, we do have constructive confirmation. You should inform your military command.”
The mutant was right, even if Adam didn’t want to admit it.
Panur saw the concern on Adam’s face. “It has been the practice of the Nuoreans to retain prisoners for their games, especially Humans. I have confidence they are still alive,” the mutant said.
“But for how long?”
Panur smiled. “The lifespan of Human prisoners is often considerably longer than others in the same situation. From experience, I can even say it is to the detriment of the capturers in some cases.”
Adam shook his head while thinking—again—that the mutant was correct. But how much longer would humanity’s lucky streak continue? He got on a link to Formil and gave them the destination coordinates for Sherri’s team. There was nothing else he could do now but wait. Wait for Dacus Zoffis to return to Incus, and wait for word concerning the fate his closest friends—and Copernicus Smith.
********
The next day, they were informed that Dacus Zoffis was back at Advanced Plasma Objects. The message came through an intermediary, with an inquiry as the subject matter of the requested meeting. When the Humans and Dacus had first met, Adam and Riyad had left him and his assistants tied up in a laboratory, ostensibly to give them cover against a Juirean backlash for the help they provided. He didn’t know if it worked, since they left the planet shortly thereafter. The fact that the scientist was still alive was encouraging, but it may not tell the whole story. Adam could understand the alien’s reluctance to see him again.
He sent back a cryptic reply having something to so with a follow-up to the artifact the Incus had found. Just knowing the scientist was back on the planet was enough to set Adam’s team in motion. They were in a transport, heading for APO, before the alien had a chance to say yea or nay to the meeting.
Security at the entrance to the vast research and manufacturing facility was just as tight as it had been before, with the notable exception that no Juireans were lingering inside the guard shack. The native security detail scurried up to the odd alien foursome.
“Your business here?” one of the guards asked.
“We have an appointment with Dacus Zoffis,” Adam replied, anticipating that the scientist had sent a message agreeing to the meet while the team was in transit.
The guard returned to the shack and came out a moment later. “There is no notice on file, yet he did approve your entry verbally. My associate will drive you to his work post.”
Ten minutes later, the eclectic mix of aliens stopped at one of the dozens of identical buildings where only rudimentary designations were painted above the main entrance doors. A native met them and led the team to the office of Dacus Zoffis. The expression of the dog-faced alien was impossible to read through all the wrinkles and folds of skin, yet his words settled any questions Adam may have had regarding his feelings.
“I do not wish to spend much time with you, Adam Cain,” growled the scientist. It was humorous as his high-pitched voice tried to sound menacing. He cast his gaze on the others in Adam’s party. “Your Human companion is not with you?”
“No, he’s off causing trouble elsewhere,” Adam said, trying to block out the concern he had for his missing friend. “I’m glad to see you’re okay.”
“The Juireans did not believe the ruse you employed last time. Only my status within the company spared my life. My assistants were not so fortunate, and for that, I hold you responsible.”
“I’m sorry about that, Dacus, but I see the Juireans are no longer a threat to your planet or commerce.”
The native recovered some from his anger. “That is correct, yet we are still reeling from the effects of their brief occupation.” He hesitated before continuing. “I should admit we have followed your recent exploits and I begrudgingly thank you for liberating Incus from the Juireans. Yet now I see we have other enemies, enemies of all the races in the galaxy, be they Union members or Expansion subjects.”
Adam nodded. “Yes we do, but that’s not the reason we’re here.”
Dacus looked again at the motley crew backing Adam. “What is it you seek?”
“We’re looking for the location where the artifact was found.”
“The Pogo Device?”
“That’s not what i
t’s called, but yeah, the Pogo Device.”
The mood of the scientist improved noticeably. “Do you have the object with you?”
“No…it has returned to its makers.”
Dacus looked at the other members of the team, cocking his head in a very dog-like fashion. “I do not understand. The artifact was estimated to be over three billion years in age. How could it return to its makers?”
“Because its makers are back.”
********
Adam didn’t see any advantage in keeping information from Dacus. The scientist had been a valuable ally before, he could be again.
“How is this possible?” the alien asked.
“They’ve been in a form of suspended animation all this time. Now they’ve kidnapped—taken—my daughter.”
“The being known as Lila?” The awe in Dacus voice revealed his knowledge of Lila, as well as her powers.
“That’s right.”
“But how, she is rumored to be…different?”
“She is, and that’s what has us concerned.”
Dacus looked to Panur and J’nae. “You move in strange company, Adam Cain. Am I to assume your new companions are not typical species?”
“That’s not important now,” Adam replied. “What is important is finding where the Pogo Device was found.”
“How will that help? That was a fragment of a world destroyed long ago. There has been great galactic drift since then.”
“You’re right, but we feel we can trace the drift back through time.”
“And locate the creators of the orb?”
“Exactly.”
“And then what?”
“Well…we’re still working on that.”
Chapter 7
Panur and the crew of the Najmah Fayd weren’t the only ones to notice the gravity anomaly. The Axel Prominence was more populated that the Radis Spur, so thousands of reports came in regarding broken CW links and other strange phenomenon as a result of the wave.
Allied forces on Formil had already concluded that it had something to do with the Nuoreans by the time Adam’s call came through. Panur had been able to pinpoint the location better than any of the techs working on the problem, so armed with this new data, a military response was hastily planned and units dispatched, including the two recently completed suppressor beam platforms.
The Axel Prominence was hundreds of light-years from any expected Nuorean entry point so there weren’t a lot of forces available in the region. Admiral Victor Ware was put in command and his hastily culled together force entered the AP thirty hours later with seven hundred twenty warships.
Six hours later they picked up the Nuorean fleet, under full gravity-drive and heading in-galaxy. Knowing the exact location of the entry point by this time, Admiral Ware sent a quarter of his fleet—and the beam platforms—to the coordinates, to set up a blockade. Then he set an intercept course for the main Nuorean concentration.
It had already been accepted that ship-for-ship, forces from the battling galaxies were pretty evenly matched. Enemy weapons and defensive systems were on par with allied systems, and vice versa. And once the Nuorean energy bombs had been countered with stronger circuit breakers, victory was now a matter of who could amass the stronger force and employ the most effective tactics.
The first contact between the fleets was awarded to the allies. Ware’s forces outnumbered the Nuoreans by a factor of five to three, which was enough to knock out seventy of the enemy ships compared to thirty-eight of Ware’s. Then the Nuoreans ran. They cranked their gravity-wells up to full and bolted into the galaxy proper. The admiral gave chase….
********
Admiral Ware stared at the captain not knowing what to say. That wasn’t good for a commanding officer, but he was truly torn by the report he’d just received.
“I understand, Captain Slater, but the suppressor platforms are lagging behind and will be there tomorrow. They don’t have the propulsion the rest of your units have. You’re to remain on station until their arrival and then assist with the deployment.”
“But Admiral, it’s been six days and still no jump from Andromeda. What if we’re sitting out here for nothing?”
That was Ware’s concern as well. He’d sent a hundred and fifty ships to the entry point coordinates nearly a week ago, expecting another alien force to enter a day after their arrival. Now a second time-period had passed, and still no invaders. The Nuorean mid-point gravity generator took three days to recharge, and from what the allies knew of their strategy, the aliens would send in a fleet around that time, with only a few minutes to an hour leeway. So far, the entry point was silent. This got Ware to thinking that the alien’s strategy may have changed, designed to upset any trap waiting for them at the other end. Just because the Nuoreans could send in a fleet every three days didn’t mean they had to. Once the seventy-two hours were up, they could launch any time after that.
This had the effect of heightening the tension within Captain Slater’s small fleet deployed at the entry point. In normal circumstances, the longer before an enemy arrived at a location, the better the chances he wasn’t coming. This wasn’t the case with the Nuoreans. Every minute that went by just meant one more nearer to D-Day.
“I understand your concerns, Cliff,” said Admiral Ware over the CW link. “We’re chasing a Nuorean fleet while you’re stuck out there twiddling your thumbs, waiting for an invasion force that could come at any second. But once the platforms are there, we’ll require a much smaller force to guard the entry point.”
“You’re right, of course, Admiral. We’ll do our part, but I have to tell you, this waiting around is taking a toll.”
“Keep your crews sharp, Captain.”
“Aye sir, Slater out.”
The link went dead as Ware checked his watch. They were closing on the enemy fleet, with the trailing units coming in range within the hour. This was the moment of truth. Victor couldn’t believe the enemy would let their rear ships be picked off a little at time as they fled. At some point, they would turn and fight. And that moment was fast approaching.
He returned to the bridge of the carrier USF Albert Einstein and took his place in the command chair. As a practice, he buckled the waist strap and scanned the huge room, making sure everything was in order. It was; his crew was well-trained.
“Commander Radcliff, time to intercept?” he called out.
“Seventeen minutes, sir. Shields to forward.”
“Very good. Set the fleet at General Quarters, all hands man their battle—”
“Incoming, sir!” a lieutenant cried out from the threat console.
“All energy to the forward shields,” Ware commanded.
“Sir, incoming approaching on our flanks, wide array, targeting the entire fleet.”
“Say again, lieutenant.”
“Bolts approaching on our flanks, first intercepts in fifteen seconds.”
“Realign the shields!”
“Underway, sir,” Commander Radcliff announced. “Fleet readiness at one-hundred percent.” What Radcliff meant by his announcement was that the fleet was ready for something they hadn’t expected.
“Strength of incoming Lieutenant Keller?”
“Sir, numbering in the hundreds.”
“Source?”
“Unknown.”
“Unknown?”
“Yessir. Bolts originating from ships in dark status.”
Admiral Ware had already surmised that, confirming that his fleet had run head-long into a trap.”
“Ships emerging from dark, count….” The young officer looked back at the fleet commander. “Sir, over thirteen hundred distinct contacts.”
The ship thundered and rocked as the first wave of plasma bolts contacted the Einstein’s diffusion shields. Some of the balls of energy impacting the ship were of the type designed to overload the shields. Although the Nuoreans knew by now that the allies could counter this weapon, they still used them to sap as much energy from the system
as possible. By themselves they wouldn’t overload the shields, but they would shorten the battery life.
“Fire at will, Mister Radcliff.”
The ship rocked again as the first bolts were launched from the Einstein’s cannon. The admiral was under no false illusion that he had the means to defeat a force over twice his size. And when word was received that the fleet they’d been chasing had just changed course and was headed his way, it left him will no other option.
“Comm, send word to the fleet: Scatter. Scatter the fleet. Take all evasive action to get clear and then contact the nearest allied command center. Do it—do it now!”
“Aye sir,” a voice called out through the din on the bridge.
Victor pressed a button on the arm of his console. “CIC, open a link to Juir.”
A moment later, an blue-haired Overlord appeared on the small inset screen in the arm of the chair
“I am Overlord Zonus, proceed, Admiral.”
“We’ve been lured into a trap by the Nuoreans. I’ve just given the order to scatter the fleet.”
The Overlord looked down at a datapad in his hands. “All Nuorean forces in the galaxy are accounted for, including the force you encountered six days ago. What force is this that is attacking?”
“Unknown, but it numbers over thirteen hundred. Lord Zonus, I’m afraid there’s a lot more of these bastards around than we thought.”
Juireans are not known for showing emotion, so the seconds-long pause from the Overlord was unusual. “Where did they come from?”
“A quarter of my fleet has been waiting at the entry point. Nothing’s come through. It’s my belief that the Nuoreans are not hanging around one entry point for long before switching to another. Even the slightest shift of the mid-point generator can mean hundreds, if not thousands of light-years between locations. This has to be their new strategy.”
“But the platforms—”
“Yes, Lord Zonus, that plan has just gone up in smoke.”
“Smoke?”
“It’s no longer valid. We can’t waste suppressor platforms waiting for something that probably won’t happen.”
