Only a moment later, “Freeze!” Dah didn’t have to the strength to move even if he wanted to. Bri sat next to him, hands raised. “Come with us!” the security officer said sternly.
“You’ll need a stretcher for this one,” Bri said nodding to her husband.
“Negative!” the man said.
“It’s okay,” Dah grunted as he barely got to his feet. Bri immediately put his arm over her shoulder to steady him.
“A little help?” Bri snapped. One of the other guards came to her aid. “Thanks,” she said dryly.
A pool of blood had gathered where Dah was sitting. When the officer saw that he said, “Get the house medic to meet us at security, pronto!”
On the way, Dah explained the best he could about what had happened. The evidence, the secret rooms attached to Tander’s office, the fight. The guard didn’t buy it at first, but when he checked Tander’s office and found the rooms with the disguises, he was willing to hear more and get a full-fledged forensics team to do a complete evaluation.
The house medic was a professional doctor with schooling from one of the finest schools on Seryys and did more than just patch him up well. Plus, Tander had spared no expense and the infirmary was better equipped than most state hospitals! As Dah and Bri sat recovering from their injuries, Dah’s com unit chimed.
“Dah.”
“Dack!” it was Prime Minister Puar. “By the Founders! I just heard from Tander’s head of security. Are you okay?”
“Not really, sir,” Dah said honestly.
“On behalf of the entire Seryys System, I wanted to extend my most sincere apologies.”
“With all due respect, sir, save it!”
“Sorry, it’s the politician in me. Is there anything I can do? Anything at all?”
Dah thought for a moment, “Clear my brother’s name. No one has to know that my brother was the leader of both sides of the resistance. I don’t want to soil our good name.”
“I think I can do that,” Puar said sympathetically. “It’s unfortunate that Reaper got past his security.”
“Thank you,” Dah breathed. “That means a lot.”
“It’s the least I can do. This really explains a lot though.”
“Yes, it does,” Dah agreed. “With his vast resources, it was a perfect cover.”
“It also explains why no one came to claim the ships that he found. It was the perfect way to condemn someone else.”
“It was,” Dah agreed. “He was trying to keep us at war with the Vyysarri so you would keep coming to him for Ti’tan’lium.”
“And all the pieces come together. I am going to have to tell Prefect Chuumdar, though.”
“I understand that,” he said. “But I know Chuumdar is an honorable man and will respect my wish for my brother’s anonymity.”
“Agreed. If there is anything else I can do, let me know.”
“Will do, sir. Thank you… for everything.”
“It was my pleasure. Puar, out.”
“You heard the man?” Puar asked Braac.
“Yes, indeed I did,” Braac said. “And I can assure you that Chuumdar will keep his word. Having to kill one’s brother,” he remarked, “takes courage. I commend him for his ability to see the big picture.”
“Neither of the Dah boys were dummies, that’s for sure.”
“It is unfortunate that Tander could not use his resources for good, to create life instead of destroying it.”
“For once, Braac, we agree full-heartedly on something,” Puar said. “But, there is a silver lining to the whole situation.”
“Silver lining?” Braac inquired curiously.
“It’s an old saying: ‘to every dark cloud, there is a silver lining.’ It means in every dark situation, there is something good that can come of it.”
“Ah, a very optimistic approach,” Braac said with understanding. “What is this particular silver lining?”
“Tandy gets all his brother’s assets, meaning that his resources will now be put to good use.”
“That is a silver lining.”
“Shall we contact Prefect Chuumdar?”
“Let’s,” Braac agreed.
Within minutes, Chuumdar’s larger-than-life head floated holographically in the center of Puar’s office.
“Prime Minster Puar, this is unexpected.”
“I wanted to update you on a few things that have come to our attention.”
“By all means,” Chuumdar said, waving his hand.
Puar took a deep breath and blew it out. “We have found both Stiprox and Warthol.”
“Indeed?” He was truly surprised.
“Yes, my lord,” Braac added. He looked permissively at Puar. When Puar nodded, he continued. “The man that was both Warthol and Stiprox was one and the same.”
“Interesting,” Chuumdar said, thumbing his chin. “And who was this man?”
Braac hesitated for only an instant. “A Seryysan, one with vast resources, Dack’Tander Dah. He was trying to keep us at war with one another to continue his sale of Ti’tan’lium to his government.”
“Indeed.” Chuumdar’s face betrayed a little surprise to that as well. “I had just negotiated a contract with him for the construction of our new fleet. It now makes sense why the respective resistance groups became suspiciously quiet after the discovery of the F’Rosians.”
“Indeed it does,” Braac agreed.
“By what means did this revelation come?”
“Dah’s twin brother, Dack’Tandy Dah.”
“Hm. And where is Dack’Tander now?”
“Dead, killed by Dack’Tandy…”
For the first time ever, Puar saw what he thought was sadness cross Chuumdar’s stoic features. “That is… unfortunate, but also a relief to know that our treaty will no longer be threatened by outside sources.”
“A silver lining to a dark cloud,” Braac added, flashing a quick, almost imperceptible grin at Puar.
Chuumdar regarded him for a moment, digested the saying and nodded. “Agreed. May we continue to rebuild our relationship and someday soon become friends.”
“I couldn’t have said that better myself!” Puar said flashing the smile that won him his first election.
“My Prefect, if I may,” Braac added. “As recompense for uncovering and thwarting the resistance, Dack’Tandy has requested that we keep the identity of Stiprox and Warthol a secret as to not sully the Dah name.”
Chuumdar mulled it over for what seemed like hours. “Agreed. I will honor that.”
“Thank you, Prefect,” Puar added. “That’s another big step.”
“Indeed. Chuumdar, out.”
“Thank you, Braac,” Puar said sincerely.
“It was the least I could do,” Braac said with the softest expression that Puar had ever seen on his face.
“So,” Puar changed the subject, “do you have any dinner plans?”
“Not as of yet, no,” Braac answered truthfully.
“Would you care to join me for dinner with my family?”
“Prime Minister, I would be delighted,” Braac said, then frowned. “But I fear my eating habits would be off putting.”
“Not to my family,” Puar laughed. “You haven’t seen them eat!”
Chapter Fourteen
The room was warm and humid, made that way by the passion shared between two people. Khai and Brindee now lay next to one another in silence, in deep slumber. Why shouldn’t they be tired? The last day had been spent showing their love and passion. Now it was time for rest. As they slept, Khai’s com unit chimed. It failed to wake the two, so it chimed again, and again, and again until Khai finally—albeit grumpily—woke, picked it up and thumbed it on.
“This had better be important, Puar,” he growled.
“Dack killed his brother!” Puar said, getting to the chase.
“What?” Khai asked, still unsure if he’d heard that right.
“Dack’Tander is dead!” Puar reiterated.
“I
s this one of your sick jokes, Puar?” Khai asked angrily. “’Cause I’m not in the mood.”
“No! For real! Dack found out his brother was both Stiprox and Warthol! A fight broke out and Dack ended up killing his brother!”
“By the Founders!” Khai gasped. “Is he okay?”
“Not really, but he’s putting on a good show.”
“What’s wrong, my love?” Brindee asked, just waking to the sound of Khai’s outburst.
“Dack was forced to kill his twin brother,” Khai said, still not believing the words coming out of his mouth.
“Oh my…” she whispered. “We should go to him right now. He’s going to need us!”
I love this woman, he thought, then said, “Where is he?”
“At his brother’s estate, recovering from some pretty gnarly injuries.”
“We’re on our way. I’ll pick up Sibrex on the way.”
“Don’t worry about that. He’s already here with us.”
“Leaving now.”
Khai hurriedly got dressed and headed for the cockpit. He plopped down in his seat and brought up the controls. He set a course for Seryys. They weren’t far; it was only a jump away. Within minutes, the ship was warmed up and ready to pass through black space. As the black hole bored a hole in space, the Splitter slipped in and emerged on the other side just outside Seryys’ gravity well. A short drop from space into the atmosphere and it was a straight shot to the Dah estate.
There were several ships taking up space in the landing area and Khai was never given permission to land so he just picked a spot and set down. The hatch opened and Sibrex was waiting for them.
“Hi Sibrex,” Khai said, giving his friend a quick hug. “How’s Dack?”
“All things considered?” Sibrex answered. “Well.”
“Good. We should get over there,” Khai said, not wasting time.
“Hello, Brindee,” Sibrex said with a bow and kiss on the hand. “It is good to see you up and about.”
“Thank you, Sibrex,” she replied with a warm, loving smile. “It is good to see you, too.”
When Khai arrived at the infirmary, the whole gang was there: Dack, Bri, Kay, Brawl, Brix, Sibrex, Prime Minister Puar, Lieutenant Puar, and now Khai and Brindee.
“You look like shit,” Khai joked.
Dah huffed what was as close to a laugh as he could muster. “Thanks. Took you long enough to get here!”
“Hey! I left as soon as I got the call!”
“I know,” Dah said. “I wanted to give you and Brindee some time together before I called you here.”
“What’s wrong?” Khai could see something in Dah’s eyes that scared him.
“I have an announcement to make,” Dah said, sitting up as best he could. Every eye in the room stared at him expectantly. “I’m retiring,” he said at length.
“What?” Khai was the first to show his dislike of the announcement.
“With my brother gone, I need to take over the business. Bri and I had a long discussion about this last night and it was not an easy decision to come to.”
“But—”
“Hold on,” Dah interrupted the protest, holding up a bandaged hand for quiet. “After yesterday’s events, I am no longer able to the do the things that I once was able to. The bullet that passed through my leg and hand caused permanent nerve damage that can’t be repaired, due to the type of bullets Tander was using in his gun.”
“Rad rounds?” Khai asked, nodding with grim understanding. “Rad” or radiation rounds were bullets made of a radioactive mineral that, if passing within inches of a nerve cluster, or—worse—the spinal cord, would cause irreversible deterioration of the affected area. They were outlawed in the Seryys System, even to the military. Even the radioactive mineral used to make the bullets was closely guarded so that none could be made. Their value on the black market was unparalleled.
“Yep,” Dah said, sadly. “Within the next two-to-three years, I will lose all functionality in my left leg and right hand. It’s a sure thing.”
“What about prosthetics?” Khai pleaded.
“Maybe sometime down the road,” Dah said. “But for now, the nerve damage is already too extensive. I’ve had the best doctors look at it already and they say that today’s technology can’t connect nerves damaged by radiation to prosthetics.”
“This… this can’t be right…” Khai was grasping at straws. “We need you for the invasion!”
“I’m sorry, Khai, I really am. I wish there was more I could do,” Dah said, his voice cracking, “but Tander meant to kill or, at the very least, cripple me. And he succeeded at one of those goals. I have already put in my resignation with the SCPD, and they have given me an honorable discharge.”
“So what’s your next move?” Lieutenant Puar asked.
“Running an empire!” he said, waving his hands around. “And running it ethically, honestly. There isn’t enough of that in the world today, it seems.”
“Nothing would make me happier than to continue doing business with the Dah business!” Prime Minister Puar said.
“Thank you, Prime Minister. It would be my pleasure to have the Seryys Government as a client.” A somber silence fell over the crowd, the group of close friends who had been through hell together, through life and through death together. “This isn’t goodbye, everyone!” Dah finally broke the silence. “Nor a funeral!”
That night was a night of celebration, laughter, crying, eating, drinking to those they had lost, and sharing old stories—stories of glorious battles, fights and other conquests. It was the best retirement party a guy could ask for.
Vor’l was sitting in his quarters, still brooding over the humiliating defeat he suffered at the hands of an inferior race. Well, that wouldn’t happen again. After extensive review of the sensor logs and tactical readouts, Vor’l’s techs were able to better understand how the enemy’s black hole drives worked and devise a way to project a false gravitic signature close to that of a planet. It would stand to reason that they would have fail safes installed that would disallow them to make a black hole near a planet or sun as it would surely destroy it. Maybe this would give them a slight edge over their adversaries. Though, he hoped beyond hope that it wouldn’t even come to that. So long as their Starblast torpedo reached their sun, the fight would be over before it even began.
His intercom chimed. “What is it?” he growled.
“My Alpha, we are ready.”
“Excellent,” Vor’l said, his mouth watering at the thought of victory. “How many ships will be left behind?”
“None, my Alpha. All ships are repaired and ready for battle. We are one hundred and ninety-four ships strong.”
“Good work,” Vor’l praised—something that rarely happened. “Set a course for the coordinates we ripped from the Vyysarri ship’s computers.”
“At once, my Alpha.”
Vor’l stood and rushed for the bridge. He didn’t want to miss a mighty victory. In only minutes, he was on his bridge and waiting. The last calculations were complete.
“Launch the torpedo the instant we arrive,” Vor’l ordered.
Within a blink the spinning world of Seryys hung in the main viewer of the Fur’l’s bridge.
Within seconds, the torpedo launched, destined for the Seryys Sun. They watched in anticipation as the torpedo sped away. Vor’l only peripherally noticed the small fleet of ships gathering in front of them. They were of no concern to him. Within seconds, the Seryysans would be crippled beyond repair. The torpedo was being fired at by some of the ships in orbit around Seryys, but they were never going to hit it at their distance, nor would they be able to catch it.
“Victory is ours, my pack!” Vor’l shouted.
Suddenly, without warning, the torpedo vanished in a fireball!
“Tactical!” Vor’l growled.
The tactical officer frantically worked his controls, knowing his answer would decide his fate. “My Alpha, I have no explanation! My readings tell me every
thing checked out before and during launch!”
“Fire another one!” he snapped.
“At once!”
Another torpedo streaked across the black void. The same scenario played out, to Vor’l’s frustration.
Roaring laughter echoed in the situation room where the whole group, minus Dah, watched their defense platform shoot down two torpedoes consecutively.
“Oh, I wish I could’ve seen the look on their faces! Open a channel,” the Prime Minister ordered, wiping a tear from his cheek.
“Channel open,” Sibrex announced.
“Hello, this is Prime Minister Pual’Kin Puar of the Seryys System. You have violated Seryysan law by firing on us. We will give you one chance to retreat and forget this whole unpleasant encounter ever occurred.”
“The ARROGANCE!” Vor’l roared. “Wipe them out! Every last one of them! And find out how they stopped our torpedoes!”
The fleet of F’Rosian ships advanced, opening fire on the small fleet out in front of them, hanging just outside Seryys’ gravity well. They were the same design as the ones that they encountered at Alpha Centauri. This battle would not last long, and if he had to, he would bombard the planet until he was convinced that nothing lived. Plus, though he had not heard from the Devastator, he had assumed it was destroyed, no Alpha Centauri ships were present in the battle leading him to believe that the small group of Seryysans had failed to make it home. Vor’l risked a small, predatory grin.
Chapter Fifteen
The Protector drones lit up like skies over Seryys during an electrical storm as their overlapping shield arcs absorbed the incoming fire from a hundred and ninety-four ships. The Lance-Class dreadnaught returned fire with multi-colored bolts of energy that splashed across the enemy ships’ shields. However, they did not advance, but lured the F’Rosian fleet into their trap. When they crossed a specific line, The Point of No Return or PNR, they would commence with Operation: Home front—or what Puar’Branen had dubbed Operation: Doggie Roast.
“I guess they’re not in the mood to talk,” Khai remarked dryly.
The Seryys Chronicles: Steel Alliance Page 19
