STAR'S HONOR (THE STAR SCOUT SAGA Book 3)

by GARY DARBY

  With that, the dual set of turbo-blades on the hovercraft began to rotate. Within seconds, Dason could feel a soft push of air on his cheeks while the four micro air drones lifted from the rocky protuberance. Small, bright lights snapped on, and the tiny craft moved out and over the chasm.

  Dason knelt next to Jadar and peered at the display panel. Four distinct video images appeared in midair over the box. He lifted his head and watched while the machines spread out until they formed a precise rectangle and began to descend.

  “Okay,” Jadar said as he nodded at the holographic images. “We have a good vid-stream, so here we go. Down five meters, ten . . . twenty . . .”

  While his uncle called out the descent, Dason’s eyes never left the video pictures. Each craft carried two micro video cameras.

  One camera rotated in a full circle in a horizontal plane, the other in a complete loop in a vertical fashion. Each drone also had onboard IR and sonar sensors, but those were in standby mode for now.

  With eight views to watch, Dason had a clear view of the pit’s craggy rock walls on every side, and what lay beneath the descending craft. However, so far, even with the powerful lights, there was no sign of the bottom.

  At one hundred and twenty meters, Dason exclaimed, “There!”

  Beams of light splayed across sandy soil littered with numerous small boulders. Their outlines cast sharp shadows against the cracked and broken dark gray walls.

  Jadar reached over and adjusted the wide-angle spotlights so that they now concentrated their beams on the dusky bottom. “Look,” Dason said to Jadar.

  The older man nodded. He too saw the broken bodies of several croc-lizards lying scattered about on the earthen floor.

  Without their cannibalistic cousins to feast on their flesh, the bodies had remained almost intact except where the force of their landing had split skin open or caused broken bones to pierce tough hide.

  The craft stopped their descent and began a slow rotation, letting their lights play over the uneven bottom.

  “I think we’re ready,” Jadar said. “Our little friends have the pit’s dimensions mapped out, going to auto-search mode.”

  For several minutes, the mini aircraft crisscrossed every square meter of the chasm’s bottom, peering into every nook and cranny that might hold a body.

  Done, they came together in the pit’s center and floated a meter above the rough, rock-strewn ground.

  Jadar let out a sigh and turned to Dason. “I’m sorry, Dason, they’re not here. Except for croc-lizard carcasses, there’s no sign whatsoever that—”

  “Exactly,” Dason replied in a triumphant tone while a smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “That’s because they never were here. Don’t you see, they never hit bottom, because the Mongan teleported them and himself out of here.”

  Jadar stared at Dason with an expression of doubt, and he held out his hands in a gesture of bewilderment. “Dason, I would like to believe, but I—”

  “Sir,” Dason interjected in a stubborn tone. “I’m not lying.” He turned a frank stare on his uncle. “This is where I saw them fall.”

  He poked a finger at the screen. “There are the croc-lizards, just like I said, so where are . . .” He stopped to bite down hard on his lip before he said, “Where are Shanon’s, Sami’s, and the Mongan’s body? Answer me that.”

  Jadar raised a quick hand and said, “Easy, Dason. I’m not accusing you of lying. It’s just that—”

  Jadar was interrupted by the appearance of Nomar who said, “Sir, Colonel Tuul says that he needs you two topside as soon as you’re finished; says it’s quite important.”

  Jadar looked at Dason with an expectant expression. “Are we done here?”

  Dason glanced once more at the pit and the video before saying, “Yes, sir, I believe we are.”

  Jadar gestured at the equipment and asked, “Lieutenant, can you police this up for us?”

  “Can do, sir,” Nomar answered without hesitation.

  “Thanks,” Jadar said and turned to Dason. “Let’s go.”

  At a crouching lope, the two made their way to the cave’s rough opening where Shar Tuul waited in obvious impatience. “What did you find?” he called out.

  Jadar held out empty hands. “Nothing. Only thing at the bottom were a couple of lizard carcasses.”

  “No sign of our lost scouts?” Shar asked.

  “None,” Jadar stated.

  Shar turned to Dason. “You’re satisfied that was the right pit, the right place to look?”

  “Yes, sir,” Dason stated unequivocally. “I know we’re in the right place.”

  Shar nodded at Dason’s statement, hesitated and then said, “Something new has turned up.”

  Dason was quick to ask, “Survivors, sir?”

  “Unfortunately, no,” Shar replied in a blunt tone and started pacing toward the Zephyr.

  Over his shoulder, he said to Dason, “One of our joint scout and SciCorp teams found what they believe is the spot where you and Tor’al held off the canines.

  “They were examining several dog bodies and they think they’ve found what appears to be XT technology.”

  He stopped at the Zephyr’s ramp and said, “It may be that translator device you described. If it is, then we’ve got a major breakthrough.”

  The three scrambled aboard the scouter. “Coordinates are already locked in; it’s not far from here. I’ve got ops sending a craft to pick up Nomar and his team,” Shar said while Jadar slipped into the pilot seat.

  In seconds, he had the Zephyr flashing through the sky.

  Watching from his seat, Dason could see below them the terrain that he and Alena had struggled across to reach the landing spot of Romerand’s Zephyr.

  In less than a minute, Jadar had them above the little ravine where Dason and Tor’al had battled the devil dogs and where they had cemented their friendship in blood, courage, and sacrifice.

  A ring of two teams of Star Scouts encircled the area, patrolling the area with laser rifles while the SciCorps team worked in the arroyo.

  Jadar dropped the ship to a quick landing, and a Star Scout captain met them after they filed from the craft. “This way,” he said and then explained, “the SciCorps techs were starting to move the canine carcasses for deep-freeze storage when they found devices under several dead dogs.”

  He led them to a SciCorps officer and said, “This is SciCorps Major Katashi, the bio specialist in charge of the site.”

  “Gentlemen,” Katashi said with a respectful nod. “The devices are over here.” He motioned toward several dead wolf-appearing canines and directed several techs to step back and make room.

  Dason started to step forward when Katashi shot out a hand and stopped him. “This is a sensitive site,” he said in a hard tone. “I prefer that only authorized senior personnel be allowed past this point. I don’t need a crowd of gawkers.”

  Dason’s mouth cracked open, but he stepped back from Katashi’s hand.

  Jadar’s face clouded up, and he started to speak, but Shar held up a hand, and in a gruff voice said, “This scout is with us, major, and for your information, he has full access to everything and anything on this planet, just as we do. Is that clear?”

  Katashi scowled for a second, his face showing a crimson tint as he peered at Dason. “But he’s not—” he began before Shar cut him off with a sharp, “Major, this scout knows more about all of this than you’d learn in a year of study so instead of me calling your boss and getting you booted off this planet, I suggest you move aside. Is that clear?”

  Katashi straightened as if he’d been slapped in the face before he replied in a stiff tone, “Perfectly, Colonel Tuul.”

  “Good,” Shar responded and turned to Dason. He cocked his head toward the canine bodies. “Take a look.”

  Dason nodded and stepped past the red-faced Katashi to kneel beside a dog carcass. A portion of a metallic halo and a boxy-looking device protruded from underneath the body.

  Pushing
back fur, Dason peered at the devices before he glanced up and nodded. “It looks like the sensator and at least one halo. The other might still be under this carcass or one of the other bodies.”

  He took a breath and said, “If the sensator is here, then it’s possible that Tor’al’s hologram projector might be under the dog, too.”

  Shar turned to Katashi and ordered, “Have your crew move these bodies, starting with this one, at once.”

  Katashi motioned to the tech team. Two brought in a mobile lifter, being very careful where they placed the prongs under the body and began to lift the carcass. Dason laid one side of his face next to the ground and watched as the dog’s remains cleared the gritty soil.

  “Yes!” he exclaimed. He sat up and said, “It’s all there, the halos, the translator, and the hologram projector.”

  He reached for the projector when Katashi yelled, “No! Stop!”

  “Major, cool your jets,” Shar ordered.

  “But,” Katashi sputtered, “he’s breaking protocol. I demand he stop. No one’s allowed to touch—”

  “Major,” Shar retorted, “under normal circumstances I would agree that we stick with strict protocols. But we’re dealing with a potential life-and-death crisis here so now is not the time for bureaucracy.”

  He shrugged. “Besides, he’s already been in contact with the devices, along with the alien whom they belonged to. If anyone can touch them, he can.”

  Nodding to Dason, he crisply ordered, “Go ahead, scout.”

  Dason lifted the device up and inspected it on all sides. Shar and Jadar knelt on one knee next to Dason. “Do you think you can make it work?” Shar asked.

  “Maybe,” Dason replied and turned the device over to where a thin line broke the ebony exterior.

  He touched a tiny white circle on the triangular device and watched with anticipation while the apparatus folded out into several sections. He ran a tongue over dry lips and said as he placed a finger on the exterior, “If I remember right, Tor’al pressed these caps.”

  Three tiny stars appeared in the air, a meter above the device. The view changed to show each star with its system of planets. “The Sha’anay home worlds,” Dason murmured, “watch what happens.”

  He pressed on another flat cap, and the hologram changed views again. Two of the stars blasted outward, a nova of hot, searing, expanding gas. The gaseous eruption churned and boiled in a cherry-red cloud that turned into a glowing, frothing orange.

  One lone sun rushed on in its galactic orbit, stripped of its companions.

  With tight lips Dason said, “Tor’al said twenty billion of his kind died that day, and the Mongans continue to obliterate other races, other planetary systems.”

  He stared at the two Star Scout officers whose bleak eyes never left the hologram. “And now they’ve come to our space, and for all we know, we’re the next to suffer the same fate.”

  Chapter Six

  Star date: 2443.075

  The Alpha Prime Planet, the Helix Nebula

  Gesturing toward the devices, Shar Tuul ordered Dason in a firm, no-nonsense tone, “Gather those up. Now. We’re returning to the Zephyr.” Without a backward look to see if his orders were being obeyed, he turned and strode away.

  Dason glanced at Jadar, who shrugged and returned his look with his own raised eyebrows. “Need help with those?”

  Dason shook his head, “No sir, I’ve got it.”

  Jadar turned to find Major Katashi blocking his path. “I’m not going to allow you to take those artifacts. This is a SciCorps biodiscovery site, and I’m the on-site officer in charge.

  “You’re not authorized to just come barging in like this and take what you want. Besides, you don’t have the scientific credentials to—”

  “Major,” Jadar pushed his face close to Katashi’s, his voice low, ominous, “see those two dozen Star Scouts protecting your backside?”

  “Yes . . .” Katashi replied in a guarded tone.

  “Those are my credentials and the only ones I need,” Jadar said. “Now, get out of our way, we have work to do.”

  Katashi hesitated before he gave a quick glance up to the arroyo’s rounded top and the dozen or so Star Scouts who patrolled along its edge. Each wore grim faces and carried Star Scout’s most punishing weapons. He licked his lips and took a step back to let Jadar pass.

  Being as careful as he could, Dason placed the items into his torso vest pack. He stood to follow Jadar to the scout craft. As he passed the SciCorps officer, he could see Katashi glaring at him with hard eyes and pursed lips as he whipped out his communicator, no doubt to report to his higher ups what had just transpired.

  Dason let out a breath. So much for mutual and respectful joint operations.

  He lagged behind his fast-paced uncle, as he didn’t want to jostle the treasure he carried. As it was, Jadar was out of the airlock and into the ship by the time Dason cycled through and entered the craft.

  Dason immediately stopped when he heard sharp voices. His uncle and Colonel Tuul were in a heated discussion over something. He held back and reached up to close the lock hatch, when he heard his name mentioned.

  “. . . was promised by the general, and we should honor that pledge,” his uncle said.

  “Promise be hanged,” Shar returned. “This is more important than taking a planetary grand tour, Jadar, and you know it! You saw the holo, same as I did. We need to get him back to Doctor Nguyen and her psych team.”

  “Shar,” his uncle rejoined, “even the doctor said that this would be good for him, and might be just the thing to open up more memories, more images.”

  Both men were quiet for several seconds before Jadar said, “Look, let me talk to him, see if we can work out a compromise. Maybe he would be satisfied in just going to the waterfall and the lake, and then we can power out for Earthside, it—”

  On purpose, Dason shuffled and scraped his boots against the airlock’s rubberized flooring, making certain he made enough noise that his uncle and Tuul could hear him.

  He stepped away from the airlock and said. “Sir, shall I secure the artifacts in the science station?”

  Tight-lipped, Shar nodded. “Make sure you stow them in plas-containers to make sure that they’re protected.”

  “Yes sir,” Dason replied and headed aft to the small cubicle that made up the Zephyr’s sci-station. He reached the small compartment and slid the hatch behind him.

  In careful measures, he laid the artifacts on the curved bench top and reached up to pull down several plas-stasis chambers. The cylinders would not only hold the objects in place against high-g stresses, the plas-crene exterior would protect them from all but the most violent of destructive forces.

  He sat down on a small padded stool and hung his head. His head was spinning. What am I to these people? A guinea pig to poke and prod?

  Colonel Tuul wants me to spend endless hours with a psych doctor tinkering with my head, and even Uncle Jadar seems inclined for me to spend my days practically in confinement on Earth.

  Don’t they understand? I’ve told them everything!

  He raised his head and stared at the wall. No, not everything, he admitted to himself.

  The image of a tall Star Scout appeared in his mind. In the background, a shattered salmon-colored moon shone over the man’s shoulder. However, the scout’s countenance caught and held his mind’s eye.

  Tired, grim, it was the exact mirror image of his Uncle Jadar and of more importance: it was the face of his father.

  Dason hadn’t spoken of that particular vision to anyone, fearful that those who questioned him would think the other images were false because he had somehow conjured up this one depiction of his long-lost father.

  Those who knew him understood he had grave misgivings about what had happened on Veni, the fog-shrouded planet where his father had mysteriously disappeared when Dason was a baby.

  The accusations that he had become a crossover, joined the nefarious Gadion Faction, and still lived sea
red Dason’s soul.

  Dason had to admit to himself that his deepest, darkest fear was that his father had indeed turned traitor, but there were also times when the light of hope shone through, the wish that the allegations against him were baseless lies.

  Because of that, he felt certain that Doctor Nguyen and the others would think that somehow he was trying to use his alien contact as a way to validate his long-held belief about his father.

  So Dason had kept that one mind picture to himself, though now he realized that in doing so, he had led his uncle and others to suspect that he held back other images, other information, as well.

  Pounding one hand on his knee, Dason turned angry. Now, they wouldn’t even let him search for his teammates. It wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t right! He had done everything, and more, of what they had asked of him, and now they wouldn’t let him do this one simple thing!

  To look for his friends whom he knew, without doubt, were still alive and most likely either still on this planet or perhaps in the hands of the Mongans.

  Either way, he had to know!

  A faint scheme came to his mind. What if he made some excuse, went outside and never returned. He knew how to get to the waterfall and the lake better than anyone else.

  He felt confident that he could sneak back there, avoid the scouts who undoubtedly would search for him. After all, he had evaded dozens of the Sha’anay hadn’t he? Even Tor’al had complimented him on his woodcraft skills.

  A faint tapping on the door interrupted his thoughts. “Dason,” his uncle’s muffled voice said through the closed hatch, “are you finished in there?”

  Dason slid the hatch open. “Yes,” he said and gestured toward the stasis chambers, “I was just . . . remembering . . .”

  Jadar nodded in understanding before saying, “Finish up and come forward, we need to talk.”

  Dason placed the stasis chambers in their appropriate slots, locked them down, and followed his uncle into the small passenger pod.

  Shar turned at their approach. “I’ll come straight to the point,” he said in a brusque manner to Dason. “Though it’s against my better judgment, I’ve agreed to let you visit the other two sites where we lost scouts Wek and Utlander.”