CassaFire

by Alex J. Cavanaugh

  He approached the thin landing strip. Byron caught site of a Tgren plane overhead, hugging the mountainside. It pulled away from the rock and performed a tight arc. He set the shuttle down and glanced up once more at the plane. Barreling down on his location, the craft’s wings dipped from side to side. The small plane skimmed low as it flew over the shuttle, its rumble loud enough to shake his ship. Byron grinned and shut off the shuttle’s engines. Only one Tgren pilot performed that maneuver.

  As he exited the ship, the tiny plane rolled to a stop not far from his shuttle. Byron waited while the pilot cut the engines and emerged from the aircraft. The ever-present wind caught Athee’s hair as she approached, pulling it away from her face. She offered a grin and Byron responded in kind.

  “Waiting for me?” he teased.

  “I was surveying the mountain for rockslides or any other visible damage,” Athee admonished, slapping her gloves together. “It appears the blast was confined to the control room. It didn’t damage any of the rock plates.”

  Byron nodded. “That’s good news. I just visited Mevine. He’s doing better. I appreciate the basket of treats you dropped off for him.”

  “Hopefully he’s eaten some of it.”

  “I think you’ve finally discovered his weakness. Maybe the boy will gain a few pounds while on Tgren.”

  “Officer Byron!”

  He turned toward the speaker. His eyes caught the large stack of burned and twisted metal that was once science equipment. Byron’s gaze continued to drift to the pile of damaged items as the science officer informed him it all needed to be returned to the Rennather. It would require several trips to transport all the equipment.

  “And I’m sorry, Officer Byron. We can only spare one person to help load the shuttle,” the man announced.

  Byron’s shoulders sagged. Two men working on that pile would require all day to load the damaged equipment. He was about to protest when Athee’s voice rang in his head.

  I’ll help you.

  You helped me this morning. This will be some damned heavy lifting.

  I don’t mind.

  Byron knew it would do no good to argue the point further. Besides, he preferred her company. She bolstered his confidence and reminded him of forgotten joys. He just couldn’t reveal how much he enjoyed Athee’s presence. His feelings toward the Tgren woman were already far too transparent.

  Outfitted with heavy gloves, the three of them began loading the shuttle. Byron located several thick cargo blankets. He used the padding to protect the floor and walls. Soot and debris fell off the damaged equipment, covering both the shuttle’s main compartment and those carrying the loads. Byron discouraged Athee from lifting the heavier items although she was more than willing. The Tgren woman’s frame was slight, but it contained an amazing amount of strength and stamina. Her consistent work ethic kept Byron plodding forward, determined not to drop before his petite helper.

  At last, the pile of equipment whittled down to nothing. Byron secured the final piece, his muscles protesting the effort. He wanted nothing more than to wash off the black soot and enjoy a decent meal. The hanger crew would attend to this final load and Byron decided they could clean the shuttle as well. He did not feel like scrubbing his ship twice in one day.

  Returning to the main compartment, he found Athee sweeping sand and grit out the open hatch. She paused in her efforts as he approached and leaned against the shuttle wall. Her face boasted several dark smudges where she’d wiped her face with a dirty sleeve. Feeling the itch from soot in his hair, Byron suspected his appearance fared no better.

  “One more trip,” he announced, his voice as tired as his body. “And tomorrow, if anything remains, Garnce gets the honor.”

  Athee blew a long strand of hair away from her face. “How did he get out of it today?”

  “He’s been busy ferrying people back and forth,” replied Byron, grasping a handle overhead. “Claimed there was no need for both shuttles to get dirty.”

  “And you bought that excuse?”

  “I didn’t feel like dealing with Garnce today. He would’ve made this job miserable for all of us.”

  He brushed aside his hair and glanced at his helper. Athee gripped the broom in both hands and offered a tired smile. Byron managed to return the gesture, grateful for her assistance.

  “Want a good dinner when you return?” she asked.

  Byron laughed. “You have enough energy to prepare a meal?”

  “No, but I have enough energy to locate one.”

  “You’re on, then.”

  He returned to the Rennather, renewed energy coursing through his body. Byron informed the hanger crew they had less than an hour to unload and clean his shuttle. His stomach already rumbled from lack of food. Byron didn’t want to delay the prospect of a good meal any longer than it took him to clean up and report to the commander.

  Korden cautioned him to remain on alert. Any evening transports would fall to Garnce unless they were overwhelmed with requests. After a day of backbreaking work, Byron was relieved. It provided some uninterrupted time with Athee as well. It surprised him how much he looked forward to sharing a meal with her this evening.

  Damn it, she’s getting to you, he thought as he entered the hanger. When did you become so gullible?

  Sir?

  Mevine’s hesitant voice was just above a whisper in his mind. Yes, Mevine?

  You wanted to know when I was released. They’re transporting me to the Cassan facility in a few minutes.

  I’m heading back to the surface now, Byron answered. He reached his shuttle and the crew chief informed him it was clean and ready for flight. I’ll meet you there.

  Yes, sir. Thank you.

  And then maybe I can finally eat, he thought.

  Mevine was waiting in the central hallway when Byron arrived. The young man’s bag was slung over his shoulder and his good arm lay wrapped around several rolls of bedding. He straightened his back as Byron approached. The movement caused two blankets to slip from his grasp.

  “I’ll get those,” Byron announced, retrieving the bedding from the floor. Mevine would never make it up the stairs without assistance.

  “Thank you, sir,” the young man stammered.

  Byron led the way to his room. The smell of food emanating from the kitchen and small dining hall taunted his senses. He’d notified Athee of his arrival time, explaining the need to get Mevine settled in his quarters. She’d agreed to meet him at the facility and he expected her in a few minutes. If dinner resided more than five minutes from the facility, Byron was certain he’d drop from starvation.

  His quarters were small, but there was room for Mevine’s makeshift bed. Byron helped him unroll the padding and blankets. Noting the boy’s trembling shoulders, he asked Mevine if he’d eaten.

  “No, sir, I haven’t.”

  “I’ll show you to the dining hall then,” said Byron. “And we’re off duty, Mevine. Drop the sir.”

  “Yes…” the young man said, his mouth closing before the word could escape. Byron smiled and patted his good shoulder.

  “Come on.”

  Once on the first floor again, Byron directed Mevine down a short hall. The sound of voices and clanking dinnerware was obvious now. “All the way to the end. You can’t miss it.”

  Mevine hesitated, his brows pulled together. “You’re not eating?”

  “I’m taking my meal elsewhere tonight,” he answered, giving Mevine a gentle push toward the dining hall.

  His friend’s eyes displayed puzzlement. Byron kept his expression neutral, hoping to avoid an explanation. To his dismay, Mevine’s face broke into a mischievous grin. An image of Athee escaped the young man’s thoughts.

  “Go on!” Byron said, unable to suppress a guilty smile at Mevine’s lucky guess.

  He stepped outside and squinted at the final rays of sun poking over the horizon. The Cassan security guard nodded and stood at attention as Byron strode past the man. After yesterday’s incident, the Cas
san facility was now guarded in case of Tgren backlash or protest. The people of Ktren had remained calm and civil thus far. Byron hoped the trend would continue. They didn’t need a riot.

  Athee waited at the bottom of the steps. Attired in a dark green tunic and matching, calf-length pants, her appearance was a vast improvement over this afternoon. After viewing himself in the mirror during his final trip to the Rennather, Byron suspected she entertained similar thoughts about him.

  “Hungry?” she asked, smiling in eager anticipation.

  “I’m starving. And if I have to travel farther than two blocks, you’re in trouble.”

  “Good thing it’s just around the corner.”

  As promised, their walk was short. Athee led him into a single story building covered in vines with tiny blue flowers. The interior boasted a similar design painted on the walls, with a kitchen to their left and several round tables to their right. In addition to small bulbs in the ceiling, candles residing on tables and affixed to the walls bathed the room with an inviting glow. A large set of double doors opened onto a covered courtyard out back. Byron noticed more tables surrounding a small fountain. However, what struck him was the smell. The most delicious aromas drifted from the kitchen, causing him to salivate in anticipation of a flavorful meal.

  Athee greeted the owners, who cried with delight to see the young woman. She requested a table in the courtyard and Byron noticed the curious stares of the other diners as they passed. He wondered if it was the presence of a Cassan or the identity of the man accompanying the prefect’s niece that drew attention. He pretended not to notice and followed Athee to their table.

  Two glasses of Jtal were placed before them. Byron allowed his companion the honor of ordering. She promised he would enjoy her selection.

  “I’d eat anything at this point,” he told her, lifting the glass to his lips.

  “The food here is excellent. You won’t be disappointed.”

  Byron stretched his sore legs. “I appreciated your help today.”

  “It was no problem,” she answered, clasping her fingers together on the table. “I’m tired, but hard work never scared me.”

  “Surprised you’re not tired of my company.”

  Athee beamed, her eyes bright. “Not at all.”

  Feeling self-conscious, Byron reached for his drink. The sentiment is mutual, he thought.

  “How is Mevine?” she asked.

  “No worse for wear and eager to return to work.”

  “That was nice of you to let him stay in your quarters.”

  “He refused at first, but I told Mevine he had no choice. Besides, the boy would’ve been miserable crammed in that tiny office with a dozen other men.”

  “He really admires you.”

  Spoken with conviction, Athee’s observation caused him to smile. “I know. He admitted he wanted to be a pilot because of me, too. Probably a good thing he chose another path.”

  “I can’t picture Mevine as a pilot,” Athee said with a laugh.

  “He’d never make it through training,” Byron stated. “No, Mevine’s better as a linguist. Just needs some confidence.”

  “Is that part of the reason you’re friends with him?”

  Byron shrugged. “I know how he feels. It’s tough when no one believes in you.”

  “Was Bassa the first to believe in you?” she asked.

  His eyes dropped to his drink. Athee already knew Bassa’s name. She might as well know the importance of his friend.

  “Yes,” Byron admitted.

  Her hand came into view and Athee’s dainty fingers wrapped around his. Byron looked up and she smiled.

  I believe in you, she thought.

  Athee’s open mind revealed the depths of her certainty. It had been years since he felt such genuine faith. Resisting the urge to shield, Byron smiled and returned her gentle grasp.

  Thank you.

  He caught more stirring in her thoughts, but the arrival of their dinner broke the connection. The enticing smells were overwhelming and Byron’s thoughts shifted to his empty stomach. After a long, hard day of work, this meal would taste like pure bliss.

  Conversation continued while they ate and focused on lighter topics. Recalling the festival, Byron realized he enjoyed Athee’s company even without the possibility of physical pleasures lurking in his mind. Her spirit was intoxicating. He forgot the day’s troubles in no time. She was a genuine person, something he didn’t encounter often, and Byron wanted to relish the experience. They lingered at the table long after their empty plates vanished and the building emptied of patrons.

  Night had fallen when they stepped onto the street. Athee stretched her back and stifled a yawn.

  “I feel the same way,” Byron told her. After a good meal, he was ready for sleep. He hoped Mevine didn’t snore, or the lad would discover his bed in the hallway.

  Officer Byron!

  The commander’s mental voice startled him. Sir?

  I need you to collect Officer Seheller and return to the Rennather at once.

  He was exhausted, but not about to question the order. Not when Korden’s tone suggested a dire need. Yes, sir. I’m on my way.

  “What’s wrong?” said Athee. She taken several steps before realizing Byron was not at her side.

  “I need to return to the ship,” he explained. “Are you all right walking home by yourself?”

  “Of course. What happened?”

  “The commander didn’t say.” Byron grasped her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you for dinner. Best part of my day for sure!”

  He returned to the Cassan compound. Officer Seheller met him on the steps and suggested they take one of the transportation carts. Byron despised the awkward vehicles, but he was too tired to run all the way to his shuttle. Seheller had apparently driven on several occasions and guided the noisy cart through the streets in record time.

  Once on the Rennather, they were told to meet the commander in his office. They discovered Korden, Anceptor, and the senior security officer waiting. The heavy mood in the room, not to mention the commander’s grave expression, alerted Byron that something was indeed very wrong.

  “Men, we just received word that we’ll soon have company,” Korden stated. “Long range scanners picked up a large craft in quadrant 637-118 bearing down on our location. At its current speed, it will arrive in less than two days. A flagship has been dispatched to intercept. Until we hear otherwise, we are to assume hostile intentions.”

  Byron’s exhausted mind snapped into focus at once. The Rennather was armed, but it wasn’t strong enough to defend the entire planet.

  “Why would an alien vessel target Tgren?” the security officer asked. “These people aren’t a threat to anyone.”

  “Perhaps they seek Tgren’s resources,” Anceptor offered.

  “Or perhaps the appearance of this vessel isn’t a coincidence,” stated Korden, shifting his attention to Seheller.

  “You think it’s connected to the alien site? But why now? It’s been there over a thousand years.”

  “Maybe the events preceding the explosion triggered it,” Byron announced in a low voice.

  Everyone’s attention shifted to Byron. Seheller began to disagree but the commander’s voice drowned out his protest.

  “That is a very real possibility. Officer Seheller!” said Korden, turning to the scientist. “I want to know everything your team has accessed so far, especially the information on Detrena’s computer pad. I want to know why that alien device exploded after scanning the Tgren, and if it did indeed send out a distress signal. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “No more equipment goes to the surface, either. If we’re forced to evacuate, we won’t have time to retrieve more than our personnel without starting a panic among the Tgrens.”

  The news unsettled Byron. “Are we going to warn them, sir?”

  “When we know more, we’ll meet with Prefect Orellen. No need to alarm his people without just cause. In t
he meantime, we’ll form a contingency plan for evacuation and focus on the data from the alien site.” Korden punched two buttons on his computer and peered at the screen. “The flagship will reach the vessel by morning. Once they’ve reported their findings, I’ll call a meeting with all officers and the prefect. Another flagship should arrive here tomorrow as well. High Command is taking no chances.”

  Korden raised his eyes to Seheller. “I know your men have been through a lot, Officer Seheller, but I need to them to work around the clock if necessary. Time is of the essence and we won’t concern the Tgrens until the time is right.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Dismissed, men.”

  Byron allowed the others to exit first. He paused in the doorway. Sir, may I ask which flagship is joining us tomorrow?

  The Firenta, Korden answered before turning to his computer.

  Satisfied with the answer, he joined Seheller in the hallway. They proceeded to the hanger in silence. The news was potentially devastating. If the vessel was hostile, the Rennather could retreat and avoid confrontation, but what about the Tgrens? They couldn’t take everyone in Ktren with them, although Byron knew one person he’d refuse to leave behind. Athee wasn’t just valuable to High Command. She mattered to Byron as well.

  As he started his shuttle’s engine, Byron’s shoulders drooped. The flagship Firenta? Damn, it’ll be good to see Ernx and Nintal again, he thought. Just wish it was under better circumstances.

  Chapter Twelve

  Byron’s mind roused to consciousness. He fought the sensation, unwilling for the day to begin yet. His body felt stiff and ached from lying in one position too long. If he fell asleep again, the soreness would vanish.

  A strange sound dissolved his tenuous hold on slumber and his mind grew alert. Suppressing a moan, Byron rolled on his side. He opened his eyes, adjusting his vision to the early light of dawn. His gaze fell at once on the figure stretched out across his floor. Mevine was sprawled on his back, his good arm wrapped possessively around his computer pad. He wasn’t snoring, but his foot twitched in a spastic, uneven rhythm.