by GARY DARBY
Just then, there was a sharp crackling noise and a small rumble in the ground. “There goes another jackrabbit, or whatever this planet has for an equivalent,” Shar muttered.
“What are you talking about?” Jadar asked. “What was that?”
“Let me bring you up to speed,” Shar replied, “seeing as how you’ve been out for close to eighteen hours and missed all the fun that the rest of us have been having.”
He hooked a thumb toward where Vlad and Chia sat listening to the conversation. “First, you can thank those two characters for saving your carcass and for lugging you over hill and dale.”
Jadar gave the two a tiny nod and said, “And I do. Seems you two have a way of being around when I get myself into all sorts of trouble.”
Vlad took a bite of ration and mumbled, “Welcome, sir.”
“By the way, sir,” Chia said, “back where I come from, we have these things called tumbleweeds. But from what I saw of you coming over the crest of that hill, I now have a whole different perspective on tumbling.”
“If you say so,” Jadar answered, “I really don’t recall the activity.”
Shar interrupted to say, “Back to the subject at hand, we’ve been on the run, staying a step or two ahead of the Mongans. As you can guess, they’re a mite upset with us.
“We’ve counted a good half dozen of their ships overhead at times, and they’re shooting at anything that moves. What you just heard was one of their not-so-successful efforts to nail us.”
Shar frowned with a concerned expression. “The problem is, while we’ve managed to avoid the Mongans, it’s only because we’ve had to keep moving farther and farther away from the lake.”
“And that means,” Jadar stated, “away from the Kolomite lode they’re after.”
“That’s right,” Shar replied. “There’s no doubt that we threw a good-sized monkey wrench into their operation.
“The question now is: how long will it take for them to be back in business?”
Jadar rubbed a hand over his grimy face. “And, will they come back here or will they look for another site to mine the Kolomite?”
“That’s assuming,” Shar reflected, “that there’s more Kolomite elsewhere, or is this the only place?
“True,” Jadar answered after considering Shar’s question. “But, either way, at least we bought the Imperium more time. And we may have turned the Mongans’ attention away from the Imperium for now and made them concentrate their forces and resources here.”
“Right,” Shar answered. “But if they restart their operation down by the lake, I suspect that they won’t be so lackadaisical about guarding their complex. Their security protocols didn’t work last time, and I don’t think they would be so stupid as to make the same mistake twice.”
He picked up a small stone and bounced it in his palm as if he were weighing it and his next words.
In a hard tone, he said to Jadar, “Next time, it’s going to take more than three small scout teams to take it out. We’re going to need a division of space marines and the entire Imperium Navy to do the job.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Star date: 2443.084
Transiting Interstellar Space
Sitting beside Alena, shoulder to shoulder, Dason was silent and unmoving, his mind, like hers, numb with grief and shock. Bianca, Romerand, A’kan, and Mo’sar were dead and they had lost Tor’al with absolutely no idea of where his captors had fled with the Sha’anay Elder.
The scout’s cruiser had just exited the Marsten system and gone into n-space, carrying the wounded El’am and the bodies of the dead.
Brant hadn’t given any indication of their next destination nor had Dason asked as he was still trying to deal with the aftermath of their colossal and deadly failed attempt to rescue Tor’al.
Dason didn’t say anything to interrupt Alena’s occasional soft sniffles. A tear dribbled from her bloodshot eyes down her cheeks to form a tiny silvery sphere on her chin before she reached up to wipe it away.
His own head hung low, and he stared at the flooring, his mind still reeling from the sight of the torn and bloody bodies and more so, Bianca’s last moments.
“Well,” Alena mumbled in low, husky words, “I guess it’s come full circle. We’ve both lost our parents, and both of our fathers have—have . . .”
She stopped and swallowed hard before she said, “At least I’m glad that at the very end he did two things that I’ll always remember. He told me that he loved me and . . .”
Her voice trailed off until she said, “And he became a Star Scout again, safeguarding, protecting, and honoring other lives ahead of his own.”
Dason stayed silent for a long time, unsure of what to say. In a quiet tone he said, “He saved my life, Alena, and for that I am grateful.”
She turned to face him fully. “No matter what he tried to do to you and your family before?”
Dason drew in a deep breath before saying, “I think that if our two fathers were here, my father would thank yours for saving his son.”
Alena bit down on her lip. “Really?”
Dason nodded and said, “Really.”
They became silent again before Dason murmured, “I was too young to remember hearing my father tell me that he loved me. At least you have a memory . . .”
Alena reached up to wipe away another tear, and took a ragged breath.
“I know, and it seems ironic that I will always have that one good memory intertwined with all the horrible ones. But after all the things I’ve done, it seems only fair.”
She laid a gentle hand on his arm. “I’m very sorry about Captain Ruz, Dason. I know she meant a lot to you.”
With a little catch in her voice she said, “I’ve never understood why bad things happen to good people, and she was good people.”
Dason thought about her words, knowing just how she felt and how sometimes it seemed so unfair that decent people had to suffer terrible wrongs for no apparent reason.
Clasping and unclasping his hands several times, Dason raised his head, his eyes staring at the bulkhead but not actually seeing the wall. Instead, his mind slipped back to the painful memory of Bianca dying in his arms.
“Maybe,” he said in a low voice, “it’s to teach us to be that much more grateful for the good things that do happen, like beautiful fall days on Earth, and the wonderful people in our lives.”
Neither spoke in the long silence that followed, each wrestling with their own thoughts. After a while, Dason stirred and turned to Alena. “I’m going to check on El’am. Would you like to come?”
“Yes,” she answered quietly, “I would.”
Together, they made their way forward to where Doctor Stinneli was just finishing putting a pressure bandage over El’am’s wounds. Dason and Alena stood in respectful silence to one side while the doctor worked.
After a few minutes, Brant joined them, standing stone-faced and silent waiting for Stinneli to finish.
The doctor put a last bandage on, stood to inspect his work, and then turned. Nodding to the three, he said, “From your expressions, I take it you would like to know the prognosis.”
Peeling off his surgical gloves, he frowned while saying, “From what I can tell, the blaster shots missed any vital organs, and I’ve got the bleeding stopped. I’ve sealed the wounds, but he lost a lot of blood, and I don’t have a way to replace it.
“I’ve got him under light sedation, but the very best thing for him right now is to get him back to his people so that they can deal with his injuries properly.”
In response, Brant said, “We may be able to do just that. We’ve just received a reply from Star Scout Command to my n-space report on what happened on Marsten’s.
“They’ve ordered us to head for Epsilon Alpha Four to transfer our remaining Gadion prisoners to an operative coming out from the Imperium’s Special Operations Group.
“And, we’re to turn this vessel over to the Navy, and take possession of four Zephyrs that will b
e waiting for us there.”
He furrowed his brow in a puzzled manner and said, “After that, we are to link up with General Rosberg, who apparently is in contact with the Sha’anay.”
He eyed Dason. “And the Sha’anay are asking for you specifically, and for those of us who were on the A’Gesi.”
“Me? Why?” Dason questioned with raised eyebrows.
Brant shook his head. “I’m not sure why, but the general’s orders were for us to red-line the engines if we have to, but get there as fast as possible. The coordinates are way beyond the boundaries of Imperium space, and I do mean way beyond.”
He hesitated before saying, “He also said that after we turn over the bodies of A’kan and Mo’sar to be prepared to attend the equivalent of a Sha’anay funeral.”
To their unspoken question, he said, “But before we do that, we’ll hold our own memorial services for Captain Ruz when we get to Epsilon.”
He stepped a little closer and laid a hand on Dason’s shoulder. “This has hit all of us pretty hard, scout, but she wouldn’t want us to grieve more than is necessary. More importantly, she would want us to get back in the game and see this thing through.”
Dason met Brant’s eyes and nodded. “I understand, sir. You can count on me.”
“Good,” Brant said and clapped him on the shoulder. “That’s the right answer.”
Just then, Alena spoke up. “Lieutenant, as you are the senior Star Scout officer on board, I need to take up a personal issue with you.”
Brant turned and with a frank stare said, “As a matter of fact, I intended to speak with you privately as well. Let’s go forward, shall we?”
Alena hesitated, glancing at Dason and Doctor Stinneli before saying, “I would prefer that we do it here.”
Brant gave a little shrug and said, “Suit yourself. Go ahead, I’m listening.”
She swallowed, drew herself up, and spoke in a halting voice. “I am Star Scout Lieutenant Alena Romer. My last posting was with Star Scout Command on Earth.
“I am formally placing myself under your authority pursuant to facing courts martial for actions unbecoming to a commissioned Star Scout officer and in violation of Star Scout laws and regulations.”
She gave a little shrug and lifted one corner of her mouth in a wan smile. “Good chance that I might have broken a few Imperium laws along the way, too.”
The silence in the room was so thick that El’am’s heavy breathing seemed to fill the small compartment.
Brant frowned at her before bringing himself to attention while saying to Stinneli and Dason. “You two will act as witnesses to the following action.”
He turned to Alena and said in a formal manner, “Lieutenant Romer, I am placing you under officer’s arrest until such time that I can officially transfer you to the Provost Marshal’s office on Epsilon Alpha Four.
“I remind you that any statement or utterance that you make regarding your previous conduct, can and will be noted and duly entered into the record. That you voluntarily surrendered of your own accord will also be entered into the record.”
He relaxed slightly from his stiff position and peered at Alena. “We don’t have a brig on this ship, and I don’t want to use another scout on guard duty, nor do I want to throw you in with the Faction collaborators.”
Pausing, he eyed Alena for several seconds before saying, “Will you give me your solemn word as a Star Scout officer, that you will not cause any further harm or injury to your shipmates and that you will conduct yourself appropriately?”
Alena nodded and said, “I give you my word.”
“Then so be it,” Brant replied. “You’re to remain in your quarters at all times except for meal times and to use the hygieno cubie as necessary. Is that understood?”
“Understood,” Alena replied.
He started to turn, but Dason spoke up to say, “Sir, one moment, please. About the Mongan device that we recovered.”
“Yes,” Brant said, “what about it?”
“You know the story behind it? That it’s possibly a teleportation device?”
“So I’ve been told.”
“I want to study it, see if I can make it work.”
Brant shook his head emphatically. “I’m sorry, out of the question. I have orders to turn it over to the Navy when we get to Epsilon, they’re to transport it back to Earth.”
Dason raised a hand in protest. “Sir, I’m positive that the device is somehow a link to my teammates, perhaps other scouts as well.
“That’s one reason why I went back to the Alpha Prime planet, to find them. Tor’al saw the device work. He said that he saw a female Star Scout appear and then disappear.”
He paused and then expressed in a confident tone, “Sir, it’s possible that he saw Shanon, I mean, Scout Hsu or Scout Utlander.”
“You have no proof of that,” Brant stated.
Desperate, Dason said, “You’re right, I don’t. But with all due respect, sir, you don’t have any proof that it’s not one of them.
“And every minute we waste means that they remain in that device, in an ethereal, noncorporeal state. Who knows what it’s doing to them? It could be killing them for all we know.”
Brant considered Dason’s comments for several seconds before asking, “What makes you think that you can get it to work?”
Before Dason could reply, Alena said, “Would it make a difference if I heard those scientists discuss the apparatus back on that moon-sized planet? Which I did. I’m sure we can take up where they left off.”
Dason turned a grateful eye to Alena. “We?”
“We,” Alena stated in a firm tone before turning to Brant, “with your permission, of course.”
Brant’s eyes flicked between the two before saying in a less than enthusiastic voice, “I’m probably going to regret this, but okay, on two conditions.”
“Yes, sir,” Dason said, “anything.”
“First,” Brant began, “you can work on it only until we get to Epsilon. Once there, I’m going to turn it over to whomever and wherever I’m directed. Is that understood?”
“Understood,” Dason replied.
“And second,” Brant grumbled, “don’t blow us up.”
Dason glanced at Alena and ran a tongue over dry lips. “Well,” he began in a hesitant tone, “As Sami would say, I can’t promise what I can’t promise.”
Brant grunted in response. “That’s very comforting.”
Shaking his head slightly, he frowned, eyeing Alena before saying, “Permission granted for you to work with Scout Thorne but I’m still holding you to your oath regarding your behavior.”
With that, he turned and headed forward as Stinneli turned back to tending El’am. Watching Brant go, Dason let out a long breath in relief that Brant hadn’t stopped them from working on the device.
Alena tapped him on the shoulder and cocked her head in the doorway’s direction. “C’mon,” she said, “let’s go. We don’t have much time.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Dason replied, “right behind you.”
“Ma’am!?” Alena questioned.
“Respect accorded to a Star Scout officer, ma’am,” Dason offered in a firm voice.
Alena reached out with a hand and turned him toward her. “Scout Dason Thorne, for the time being I may be an officer, but after all we’ve been through, after you saved my life more than once, none of this rank or title business between us.”
Dason opened his mouth, but Alena jabbed a finger into his chest before he could speak. “And that’s an order.”
Dason met her look, and they stared at each other for several seconds before tiny smiles crept over both their faces.
Dason gave a curt nod and said, “Yes—Alena.”
“Good,” Alena said, “let’s go.”
Hours and hours later, with the ship nearing the transition point from n-space to normal space and their time running out, Dason and Alena both stood soberly staring at the Mongan device.
Weary, disc
ouraged, and nearing heartbreak as they drew ever closer to Epsilon Four and the loss of the instrument, they’d tried everything they could think of, all to no avail.
Except for very brief moments, neither of them had left the room and still they were no closer to solving how the machine worked than when they had first begun.
They had pored over the Mongan device, inspecting and studying every detail they could find. They had virtually no diagnostic equipment to work with except for their five senses and the diagnostic tool between their ears. And so far, their diagnostic tools had failed them.
“You know,” Alena said in a tart and frustrated tone, “I could take your weapon, go aft and threaten those civilians. See if they have more to tell than what I overheard.”
She screwed her mouth to one side. “I still have some mad stored up, you know. Wouldn’t be too hard for me to put a small blaster hole in one of them to show that I meant business. Besides, what’s one more offense to add to my list?”
Dason turned back and once again examined the three small indentations on one side of the triangular device. “Yeah, I admit it’s tempting,” he sighed.
“But if you go waving a weapon under those Gadions’ noses, Brant just might change his mind and turn a cargo hold into a ship’s brig. Then what help would you be to me?”
“Just an idle notion,” Alena answered in a sullen tone. “Since I can’t seem to come up any other ideas regarding this device, thought I’d give that one a shot.”
“Uh huh,” Dason replied. “Speaking of Faction, what happened to that thug that we left back in the building? He’s not with the rest of the prisoners.”
Alena’s shook her head. “I’m not sure. I was so shocked after seeing what happened to my father that all I remember is sort of stumbling out of the building before I found you outside. He wasn’t there when they went inside to search?”
“Apparently not,” Dason replied. “Which is too bad, because if there was anyone that needed interrogation, it was him. I suspect he’s got a boatload of information that would do us good as he and Khalid seemed real friendly.”
