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

by GARY DARBY

  Hanjeh wrinkled her nose as if she had inhaled a foul smell before saying, “Which would be Marsten Three, the closest inhabited planet. Forty hours at max warp.”

  “The Marsten system,” Bianca said tightlipped. “And the next closest beyond that?”

  “Pegasi, a little over forty-five n-hours,” Hanjeh replied with a frown. “Beyond that, you can have several choices but they’re all at least sixty hours out. That’s the best we can do since we’re way out in the sticks.”

  Dason glanced from one to the other before saying, “I’m not familiar with either planet, but the way you’re acting, neither is a place we want to go.”

  “Marsten,” Hanjeh explained, “is an isolated, rough-and-tumble colony planet, pretty lawless and reputed to have ties with the Faction.

  “Just the sort of place where you wear a Pixie personal-locate system, a fully charged L-gun, and never walk about without at least a team of scouts at your side.

  “Pegasi is not much better, but with a larger population, and a semblance of local government and societal norms.

  “But it too is rumored to be in league with the Faction, and another place where you tread softly if you’re a Star Scout, Imperium military, or law enforcement, for that matter.”

  Bianca turned and walked over to Stinneli. She bent low and spoke in hushed tones for several moments. Stinneli’s quick shake of his head was emphatic before he whispered something back to Bianca.

  Rejoining the group Bianca said with a frown, “It’s as I feared. Stinneli says we don’t have the hours to get to something better than those two planets and even then he’s not sure his more critical patients will survive.”

  With a grimace, she ordered, “Hanjeh, work up a plot for the Marsten system and see how Lia is coming on the comms. Be ready for boost-out within the hour.”

  Hanjeh nodded and strode away. “By the way,” Bianca said to Brant, “did we retrieve the Zephyr?”

  “Yes,” Brant replied. “It just landed. I’ve got Anyar looking her over now, but it’s evident that she took a beating, so we may have to fit everyone in that Faction cruiser if you want us out of here under hyperdrive.”

  “Thanks,” Bianca replied.

  For Brant’s sake, she outlined their discussion with the Sha’anay and Dason’s idea. She gestured toward the cavern’s machinery. “Before we go there, what about in here, anything to help us figure out where they took Tor’al?”

  Brant shook his head. “No, the equipment is mostly diagnostic.”

  He waved a hand toward the different machines and said, “I recognize some of it like that Nitron SPF molecular analyzer over there. It determines metallurgical composition, and I suspect that the rest are for similar operations.”

  Brant gestured toward the opening that led to a side cavern. “They’ve also got several high-end linguistic conversion computers in there. I’m assuming that there must be some language experts in the group.”

  He waved a hand at the equipment and said, “From the looks of things, they sort of hastily threw this all together in the hopes of getting some quick answers. It’s not a full-up diagnostic laboratory by any means.”

  His jaw tightened and scowling said, “But from what I gather, without having the benefit of a sensator, they were using torture techniques in trying to get the Sha’anay to speak, including electric shock, vibro sounds, and pulse waves.”

  His countenance took on a darker hue while he said, “I also found some psyche drugs, but I don’t think they had gotten to using them just yet.

  “I believe they were too afraid of what they might do since they know practically nothing about Sha’anay physiology.”

  “That’s what I understand, too,” Bianca said in an angry tone. “But Stinneli tells me the Sha’anay should be okay, they’re a pretty tough lot. But understandably enough, not a very forgiving lot right now.”

  “So,” Brant said, with a nod toward Dason, “are you going to try his idea?”

  Bianca’s expulsion of air puffed out her cheeks. “Unless you can think of something better, then yes. With Tor’al a Faction prisoner and we humans interfering with something that is sacred to a whole culture, I don’t have much choice, do I?”

  Brant turned to peer toward where the two Faction henchmen sat with surly faces, guarded by Tam and Shelby. The two scouts never wavered from aiming their Sha’anay ta-guns straight at the Gadions’ heads.

  Brant said in low tones over his shoulder, “Actually, I think it’s a pretty ingenious idea. I know it would probably scare me into talking.”

  Bianca hesitated before saying, “Then that’s what we’ll do.”

  She gazed over at the two Gadions with narrowed eyes before instructing Brant, “While Dason and I see if we can work a miracle or two with our Sha’anay friends, I want you to make sure that everyone on the team knows that Tor’al is our number one concern.

  “Somehow, we have to determine that cruiser’s destination. Start loading the wounded, use the non-injured civilians to help Doctor Stinneli, but I want them guarded at all times.

  “As far as I’m concerned, they’re all Faction collaborators, and we’ll treat them as such. But as soon as we’re ready, we’ll boost for the Marsten system. Once you’re done, come back here, we might need you to help pull this off.”

  “On it,” Brant answered, and strode away to begin evacuating the Faction hideout.

  Dason mumbled, “Too bad we don’t have our own teleportation device and could instantly whisk those hurt people to a medical facility. I know the idea of teleportation sounds utterly fantastic, but still—”

  “So did going faster than light a few hundred years ago,” Bianca countered. “But now we go zipping from star to star almost as naturally as our ancestors used old-style automobiles to go from city to city.”

  She paused before saying, “Fantastic, yes, but I’m willing to accept that an alien race could have such technology. Moreover, if you’re right, it may hold the key to how we get our people back alive.

  “And that I most definitely would like to see.”

  Leaning in closer to Dason, she murmured, “Since the Sha’anay seem to hold you in some regard, I’m going to let you play junior diplomat and see if A’kan will go along with our scheme.”

  Dason swallowed before he replied with a rush to his words, “Ma’am, I slept through the junior diplomat course in the novice program, I’m not sure I’m your best representative.”

  “Don’t worry, you didn’t miss much,” Bianca replied. “From what I’ve seen to be a diplomat or a politician you simply need two qualities.”

  “And those are?” Dason asked.

  “Talk fast and lie faster,” she muttered. “But in this case I don’t want you to do either. Just be yourself, be honest, and make A’kan understand that we really, really do want to find Tor’al.”

  She nodded toward the three Sha’anay. “Just make sure they realize that this might be our only chance to find Tor’al until we can turn those two characters over to Imperium law enforcement.

  “And that could be several days away.”

  Dason made his way over to the Sha’anay and in quiet tones discussed his idea with the three warriors. After a few minutes of back and forth between them, he turned and came back to Bianca.

  “They’ll do it,” he whispered to her. “But reluctantly, I might add.”

  He hesitated and then muttered, “As I was leaving, A’kan said to tell you that if this didn’t work, don’t worry about turning them over to Imperium law keepers as he called them, he’d already made sure that El’am’s blades were nice and sharp.”

  “Persistent, isn’t he?” Bianca grunted.

  With that, she slipped around the rocky corner so that no one could see her and tapped on her comms unit. “Brant,” she murmured, “are we set?”

  “Everyone’s got the word, ma’am,” Brant answered.

  “Tam, Shelby,” she whispered, “Listen carefully, but do not respond in any way. I rep
eat, do not respond. Continue with what you’re doing. I don’t want anyone to know that you’re on your communicator.

  “We’re going to do a little play-acting so think of this as our encore after our little skit on the Argos.”

  In a rapid voice, she explained what was going to happen and then said, “Tam, tell Shelby that you need to use the facilities and move away. Shelby, shift your weapon from your right hand to your left and take your finger off the trigger.

  “Remember, no matter what happens, do not interfere unless you get a direct order from me. Brant, you ready to be Sir Galahad?”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be as I’m certainly no Sir Galahad,” Brant replied.

  Dason, who could see both the scout guards and Bianca, gave her a slight nod that Tam had moved away and that Shelby had crossed her weapon over to her left hand.

  He slipped around the edge to join her and waited. Seconds later, there was a loud yell and together, the two sped around the corner.

  Shelby stood with her hands above her head; El’am had his weapon trained on Shelby while A’kan and Mo’sar stood over the Faction henchmen, El’am’s two swords mere centimeters from the thug’s faces.

  The assassin didn’t move a muscle, his outward expression hard and calm. The other Faction scrunched down, trying to get away from the gleaming sword tip that danced just in front of his nose.

  “A’kan!” Dason shouted. “Wait!”

  With Bianca beside him, Dason ran toward the three Sha’anay, his open palms at shoulder height. He came to a halt next to Shelby.

  Staring straight into El’am’s eyes he said, “I invoke the Rite of Truce and Parley. Hold this life, to end this strife, accept my offer, and peace I proffer.”

  He reached out with one hand, grasped the barrel of El’am’s weapon, and placed it against his chest. El’am’s face remained impassive but he gave Dason the tiniest of nods in approval.

  Bianca held the Sha’anay sensator device up and called out, “A’kan, hold and let at least one of these hear what you and I have to say.”

  At just that moment, Brant burst into the cavern and slid to a halt. He held both hands up while speaking rapidly, “Yes, please, A’kan, accede to Ki’mi Ruz’s request.”

  A’kan snarled and drew back his lips crouching toward the Gadions as if he would pounce on the both of them.

  Slowly straightening, he gestured toward the two and Bianca stepped over to the nervous Faction member. “What I just asked for and A’kan has granted is that as we are bargaining for your lives, you might want to hear what is going on.”

  She adjusted the halo on the smaller man’s head saying, “We only have one of these so you draw the prize.”

  Stepping back, she ordered, “Start speaking, and they will answer in Sha’anay. The device will imprint their language on your mind so that you can understand and speak Sha’anay.”

  The man stammered, “What am I supposed to say?”

  “Anything you want,” Bianca replied, “but I’d make it as friendly as I possibly could at this point. They’re in a foul mood as you can see and they’re very, very good with those swords.

  “Trust me, I know.”

  “Uh,” the man sputtered again, “I really want you to know how sorry—”

  A’kan growled at him, and the man’s head jerked back, his eyes full of amazement. “I —I understood some of that!”

  “Keep talking,” Bianca commanded.

  The man vigorously nodded and began to ramble, his voice quaking and his eyes never leaving A’kan’s sword point.

  Suddenly, after a few more moments, A’kan roared in Sha’anay halting the man’s speech with his mouth hanging open.

  The more A’kan bellowed, the wider the man’s eyes became. A’kan finished by slashing the sword so close to the man’s face that the passing wind ruffled his hair.

  Bianca gave the man a small, taunting smile and said, “I think you definitely understood that last part. And, just to be clear, he means every word.”

  The assassin demanded of his companion, “What did he say?”

  The man licked his lips and rushing his words said, “He said that we were no better than a Rigellian Blood Leech and that they should first slit our bellies before they rip our heads off and then take our blood and—”

  “Shut up,” the assassin snapped. “I get the picture.”

  “No,” Bianca replied coldly, “you don’t get the picture. You’ve kidnapped and tortured a Sha’anay leader, and they want him back, alive and unharmed.”

  She switched to Sha’anay and spoke directly to the second man. “In their view, your miserable lives are not worth saving.”

  Hooking a thumb over at Dason, she said, “However, Scout Thorne has invoked the Rite of Parley and is willing to be their hostage while we negotiate. Maybe, just maybe if you cooperate we can convince them to let you face Imperium justice, instead of their own.

  “And their brand of justice doesn’t appear to hold with long drawn-out trials but rather with a swift implementation of the penalty which in your case would be . . .”

  She paused and then said, “Well, let’s just say that at this moment, your lives are being measured in minutes and very, very, short ones at that.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Star date: 2443.081

  The Gas Giant Moon

  As if to drive Bianca’s point home, A’kan moved forward to squat down and place himself mere centimeters from the man. For several minutes, A’kan’s voice was a low, menacing rumble before he finished and stood back.

  Dason couldn’t help but notice how the Faction’s breathing quickened, and his eyes darted back and forth while A’kan spoke.

  As A’kan raised himself to his full imposing height, the assassin turned on his companion who’s eyes were fixed on A’kan and even under his space tan he now looked pale.

  “Snap out it! Don’t you see what they’re doing? It’s the good cop, bad cop routine.”

  He whipped his head around to Bianca. “Well, I’m not buying it. You won’t let them hurt us; you’re Star Scouts, sworn to uphold Imperium law, remember?”

  Bianca leaned over and all but leered. “Oh, that’s rich, you who operate wholly outside the law, are now invoking Imperium law as a shield?”

  She laughed aloud while saying, “Tell me, my overly confident friend, just what law prevents me from turning you over to extraterrestrials who aren’t bound by Imperium rules?”

  Bianca swung her head around to the assassin’s sweating companion. “The last time I checked, there was no such law. So, if I let them take you, I’m not breaking any Imperium decree, now am I?”

  The killer’s cocky manner evaporated in an instant but he managed to bluster to his partner, “Don’t go shooting off your mouth, not a word. They won’t hand us over to them.”

  “No?” Bianca asked in silky tones.

  She stepped over, took the sensator ring off the man’s head, and spoke to A’kan in Sha’anay. The alien growled in turn and reached down with one big hand to lift the man up.

  His sword made a loud, raspy sound as he drew it out of his scabbard. He raised it high over his head before Brant yelled out in Sha’anay, “A’kan, no!”

  Brant rushed up to Bianca, “You can’t do this, Captain Ruz. There may not be any law that covers this but human decency demands that they get a fair trial!”

  “A fair trial!” Bianca snapped. “After what they did to the Sha’anay and to these people here? As far as I’m concerned they’re merely sick animals and there’s no law against beheading a diseased animal.”

  She pushed her face close to Brant’s. “Is there? Well, is there?”

  Brant let out a deep sigh. “No, there isn’t, but—”

  “No ‘buts’,” Bianca interjected. “They gave up their rights to being called human when they started using other humans for target practice.”

  Drawing herself up to her full height, she stated, “I’m the ranking Star Scout officer here and I�
��m authorizing this Sha’anay to carry out his duty as a Sha’anay warrior to avenge Elder Tor’al.”

  She turned to where the Faction was being held in mid-air by A’kan. “And that duty demands the death of those who carried out the crime.”

  “No!” the man began to scream. “Wait! I’ll talk, what do you want to know?”

  At the same time, the assassin started yelling, “Shut up, you idiot, or so help me, I’ll kill you myself!”

  Bianca gestured to A’kan, “Let him down, he desires to speak.”

  A’kan dropped the man to the floor where he hit with a muffled thud and rolled away from the Sha’anay.

  The assassin again shouted at his companion. “Don’t! You know what he’ll—”

  “No!” his partner returned in a sharp voice. “I’m not going to keep quiet. You know as well as I do that there’s no guarantee that he’ll come back for us. Especially since he—”

  The man stopped speaking, looked at Bianca and the Sha’anay, before jerking his head toward the assassin and muttering, “Get him out of here and I’ll talk.”

  Bianca motioned Mo’sar toward the assassin and said, “Remove him so that we can speak with the other.”

  Mo’sar reached down with one hand and roughly dragged the squirming and kicking assassin over to Tam. He roughly dumped the killer at her feet like a sack of Solarian potatoes and stepped away.

  Tam jabbed her weapon into the man’s side and motioned for him to move down the passageway. With a little motion with her head, Bianca indicated that Brant was to go with Tam.

  Brant gave an acknowledging nod and quickly caught up with Tam as she roughly shoved the killer down the corridor.

  As soon as they were out of sight, Bianca stepped over to stand before the shaken man, who lay gasping on the floor as beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.

  “Good choice,” she said. “You just might live long enough to live out the rest of your life on an Imperium penal colony.

  “Now, who were you speaking about when you stated that ‘he won’t come for us’ and is he the one who took Elder Tor’al off-planet?”