by Greg Mutton
‘It is of no consequence. We will just wait here to welcome our guests. I will see you later at headquarters.’ Tocmal cut the comms. Aaron left the bridge and returned with another four power units. He started to disassemble the sensor console and bypass the power supply. ‘A-Bra-Ham, please… we cannot use sensors in this place. We can risk no damage.’
Aaron looked up from what he was doing. ‘Not even passive sensors… just environmental readings?’
‘That will be acceptable… but what will environmental readings give us?’
Aaron smiled as he powered the console. ‘An edge… just an edge.’ The console screen slowly came to life. Aaron adjusted the sensors to improve the resolution and there on the screen they saw an infrared display, the damage to the systems making his task even harder. Finally, he managed to compensate for the damage and was able to reach out far enough to locate the impending visitors, now about five minutes away. They were making heavy going through the forest, using blasters to clear a path. ‘Definitely not locals,’ he speculated.
‘No…vandals!’ Tocmal’s voice had a cold edge — he wasn’t happy with what he saw. ‘We need to set a perimeter and stop them!’ He stood, taking a long look at the screen. ‘I’ll go and scout out where we can stand… it is better I do this alone… I can move faster. I shall return in a few of your minutes.’ He left the bridge and went back to the airlock. Aaron and Petra watched the small creature leave; he had only moved a few feet away from the ship when he stood upright, moved his back and released a pair of very fine wings. He leapt into the air and flew quickly to one of the trees at the edge of the crash site.
‘Well, that little guy is full of surprises.’ Aaron exclaimed, chuckling. He noticed the approaching force had slowed considerably indicating they had run into a very dense piece of forest. Tocmal quickly returned and began telling his companions his plan. As he finished, Aaron opened the weapon store again and retrieved spare power supplies for each of their weapons. ‘This should give us plenty of fire power,’ he said as he handed out the packs.
‘Please remember… this forest is sacred,’ Tocmal pleaded as they left the ship.
Tocmal flew to his high vantage point. Petra used the port wingtip for cover and Aaron moved to the rear of the ship, taking cover behind a large rock outcrop. Thankfully, Petra had managed to crash the ship in the only clear section of the forest for many thousands of metres and the ship was at the furthest edge from the direction their adversaries were coming. Between the ship and the forest was a clear 100 metres without any vegetation, giving them a good field of fire.
The Reglaon sun was low in the sky, setting behind the ship. Aaron smiled as he thought good, the sun will be in their eyes.
A-Bra-Ham, how does the rock feel? Tocmal’s voice clicking in the comm unit.
The question amused Aaron, but he reached up and felt the rock. ‘Hot… bloody hot actually.’ He was amazed at the temperature he felt emanating from its surface.
Excellent, this will hide you from any heat seekers. Man-Nix, is the wing feeling warm to you?’
Petra reached up. The sensation was strange until she realised what she was touching. ‘Admiral, somehow the absorption field is still active; I can feel it just off the wing.’ She smiled, understanding this would offer her a degree of protection as well as cover.
Good, we are all in position. Wait for my call before firing, Tocmal was whispering into his comm unit. The enemy is close… they are at the edge of the clearing… be prepared.
Aaron adjusted the sights on his weapon. The light was now very low and he could just make out the edge of the clearing. The low vision system kicked in and he could now see the field of battle clearly. At the same time, Petra selected to switch her sights to infrared; each one of the encroaching raiders was now visible. ‘Captain,’ she whispered, ‘infrared.’ The simple statement caused Aaron to switch also.
A dull thud, more like a muffled drum startled Petra. The wing above her head flared to brilliant white as an energy bolt slammed into the absorption field. She didn’t flinch as she waited for Tocmal’s call.
A loud explosion to the rear of the ship, this time pieces of the hull flew in all directions; still no return fire.
‘Wait… they are starting to move,’ Tocmal whispered, as five shapes started cautiously towards the ship. They moved in about five metres and hit the ground.
Three deafening explosions hit the ship; two on the wing and upper body, one at the rear; more parts of the hull exploded; Petra huddled lower as pieces of the hull flew around her. Five more shapes began to edge their way towards their companions; this time they moved past and hit the ground; now ten metres into the clearing.
‘They’re getting close, Tocmal.’ Petra whispered.
‘Just a few more seconds. Ready…’ Petra and Aaron steadied their breathing as they took aim, Petra taking the front five and Aaron targeting the rest.
NOW!! Tocmal’s voice screamed in their ears. Petra and Aaron opened fire, their disruptors spitting raw energy towards the enemy. They returned fire, blasts hitting the absorption field and the large rock. The field did its job, absorbed the energy and fed it into the battery banks.
Aaron’s rock had no such luxury; it was being carved up. Blast after blast slammed into it, chunks flying in every direction; but still Aaron kept up his withering fire, ducking and weaving behind the boulder, dodging energy blasts and flying debris.
Their weapons were set on maximum; enough energy in each blast to vaporise a body; every time one of the attackers was hit square on, they erupted in a fireball. Some of the assailants weren’t so lucky. One, hit in the arm, just sat stunned, unable to comprehend why his arm now ended at the elbow.
Realising their vulnerability, the attackers retreated — they turned and began to run, crouched as low as they could.
A blood-curdling howl came from the forest. Petra swivelled her weapon towards the site of the sound; what she saw sent a cold shiver down her spine.
Tocmal — his hands spitting fire — was descending from his treetop perch. He fired continuously, each hand seemingly independent of the body it was attached to. Petra moved out from behind her cover and began firing at the retreating enemy. Aaron followed her lead. Dropping his large disruptor he drew his two blasters, firing toward the enemy. Of the ten who originally began to creep toward the ship, only two were still standing — both of these now dropped their weapons, fell to their knees and tucked their arms behind their heads.
‘Commander… Stop!’ Aaron called. ‘Cover these two. He then proceeded through the carnage — kicking weapons away from bodies and nudging them to see if any were still alive. Only the one missing an arm and another with a nasty abdominal wound survived. ‘Bring those two over here,’ he ordered.
Petra complied and stood guard, watching the four as Aaron went to see how Tocmal was faring. He didn’t get far before Tocmal emerged from the forest. He looked up to Aaron, his large compound eyes glowing red.
‘A-Bra-Ham you are wounded.’ Tocmal cried. Blood trickled down Aaron’s face from a nasty gash somewhere on his scalp.
‘It’s much worse than it looks, didn’t duck quick enough, one of those chunks of rock must have sliced it.’ Aaron wiped the blood away and started to move toward the forest edge.
‘No need to check, my friend… none survived.’ He moved past Aaron, as Petra went back to the ship. Tocmal removed the head coverings of the four wounded.
What this revealed shocked and astounded Aaron — the body of their attackers was human but the head was almost canine. A long snout formed the top half of the mouth with two eyes set deep into the head, facing forward. The ears were also dog like, standing out from the side on the head.
‘Galdoran scum!’ Tocmal spat. ‘You fools never learn. Many times you have tried to fight us and every time you have been defeated. Do you not have any brains in those ugly heads?’
Aaron moved to his friend’s side. ‘Tocmal, maybe you should holster some of yo
ur weapons?’ Tocmal looked down to his arms — each was pointing a blaster at one of the captives. ‘They may be able to give us some information… if they live.’
Tocmal looked up and shook his head. ‘We Reglaons tend to be a little aggressive when provoked,’ he admitted. As he holstered three of his weapons, the sound of the recovery vessel moving overhead filled the clearing. ‘I would suggest that the two of you will need new uniforms,’ Tocmal chuckled as he moved away. It was true; their impressive blue uniforms were now only grubby, torn rags.
‘So much for making a good impression,’ Petra laughed as she returned with a med kit for Aaron’s wound.
13
Aaron and Petra quickly went back into Junior to retrieve their clothes and personal effects.
The recovery effort impressed them. The Reglaon engineers only took half an hour to secure the ship and transfer it to the recovery vessel, their skill and efficiency impressing Aaron as he stood at the edge of the clearing, watching everything that was taking place.
‘Do not fear, A-Bra-Ham. Our engineers will take extremely good care of your ship; she will be returned to you fully functional and in pristine condition… or they will answer to me!’ Tocmal said with authority. As he spoke, the large recovery vessel started to climb away from the clearing — another smaller craft entered the area, transitioned to vertical operation and settled gently to the ground. It was much larger than a shuttle and, as the airlock opened, they saw why. Fifty heavily armed Reglaon troops came down the access ramp and dispersed to the edge of the clearing. When they were satisfied with their dispersal, another figure emerged from the ship and came towards them — Jok-Tar.
‘I am pleased you are uninjured my friends. It appears you have triumphed.’ He embraced both Aaron and Petra, something Eldorans rarely did. ‘Now, if you will excuse me, I wish to converse with these creatures.’ He bowed slightly and walked to the Galdoran leader. Jok-Tar reached his target and kneeled down in front of him. Aaron watched as he saw the emotions change from defiance, to one of abject terror, clearly Jok-Tar was someone this creature feared. Jok-Tar kept staring — the Galdoran becoming ever more fearful each second. Suddenly, it let out a howl that was filled with pain and terror and then it collapsed to the ground in the foetal position, where it lay whimpering.
Tocmal placed a hand on the arm of both Petra and Aaron. ‘Eldorans are the most loyal and honourable friends but are equally the most ferocious enemies. We are lucky to be the former.’ Aaron watched his friend gently place a hand on the top of the Galdorans’ head. Instantly, the whimpering stopped and he began to regain his composure. A few minutes later, Jok-Tar rose and re-joined the group.
‘That is something I never enjoy,’ his voice was heavy and sad, ‘but sometimes necessary. They have a ship, not far from here and only a token two sentries — such is their arrogance. We will need him to come with us, he will be compliant, but we need to proceed with haste… whoever is behind this will be waiting for answers.’
Tocmal agreed and directed the operation. He, Jok-Tar, Aaron and Petra, accompanied by five additional Reglaon soldiers, struck out from the clearing — the Galdoran captive meekly following any direction he was given. They followed the path of destruction the invaders had cut through the forest, making their progress quick and quiet. The mood of the Reglaons deepened with every damaged tree or bush they passed.
Twenty minutes later, they saw their destination. Hidden in a shallow depression was a ship. Tocmal emitted a series of whistle and clicks, unintelligible to Aaron and Petra. Better you don’t know what he said Jok-Tar’s voice sounded in their heads. Two of the soldiers moved silently away to either side of the ship, returning a few minutes later to confer with Tocmal.
‘My friends report there are two sentries outside and one other Galdoran on board the ship. Jok-Tar will have his new pet call the sentries out… then we will take the ship.’ Tocmal moved back to the soldiers who melted into the forest, nothing marking their passage. Jok-Tar placed his hand on the top of the Galdorans’ head again, and it began to speak into a communication device on its arm.
‘This is Commander Xylem… we are returning. I have wounded and need assistance.’
Yes commander, the reply broke the silence and the two sentries moved away from their posts and approached the path. They only took a few steps when two Reglaon soldiers were on them. Silently they subdued the Galdorans as a third soldier moved up the ship’s gangway. There was a brilliant flash inside, Tocmal stood.
‘We are clear now… follow me.’
The ship was larger than Aaron had first thought—larger than necessary for an incursion such as this. Jok-Tar and the Galdoran officer went forward to the bridge to report to the Galdorans’ leader — Tocmal and three soldiers started to search the ship. Aaron was fascinated — he saw at once both remarkable similarities to human engineering, but also huge differences. They arrived on the bridge as the Galdoran finished his report and cut communications.
‘We have told the superior that the mission was a success and that all of you were killed. We also mentioned that there was a larger Reglaon presence than anticipated and we need to remain concealed till that is recalled.’ Jok-Tar seemed very pleased with himself, ‘And I believe I know who is behind this operation. This will prove very interesting in the coming days.’
Aarons’ communicator buzzed, A-Bra-Ham, I think you need to see what we found. One of the soldiers will meet you at the airlock… have Jok-Tar bring his pet… we may need him. Jok-Tar shrugged, motioned to the Galdoran who followed Aaron as he led the way back to the entry. They met the soldier and he led them back to a hold area. Here were six stasis pods, the same pods used back in the twelfth realm. The hairs on the back of Aaron’s neck stood and a cold shiver ran down his spine. He moved to the first pod, brushing away the condensation on the clear Acrilan surface, totally unprepared for what he saw inside.
‘What the……’ his voice trailed to silence as he cleared more of the condensation. He moved quickly to the other pods, the same sight greeted him. Dead faces — dead human faces, twelfth realm humans. ‘This isn’t possible,’ he said under his breath.
Tocmal was now at his side. ‘They are all dead… we can find no life signs… do you know who they are?’
‘Yes, well…and no. They are human, obviously, and from their clothing, they are from our realm; but what are they doing on a Galdoran ship… and on Reglaos in the tenth realm? It makes no sense.’
‘You appear to recognise them… do you know them?’ Tocmal’s voice was firm; he wanted an answer.
‘Not personally. From their clothing I know where they come from, or are supposed to. See the insignia…the skull with the letter “T”? That’s the emblem of a rather pathetic group of human misfits, people we call pirates…’ Aaron’s voice trailed off, clearly baffled by this discovery. ‘Jok-Tar, ask your friend about these.’
Jok-Tar turned to the Galdoran and soon had answers, ‘I can’t do much more… he will not survive it.’
Tocmal shot a withering stare at Jok-Tar. ‘Do you think I care? Look at what these degenerates have done! Ask him?’
Again Jok-Tar stared into the Galdoran’s eyes, it started to whimper again, then slowly it spoke to Jok-Tar, quietly, too quietly for the others to hear. Finally it let out another howl of agony and Jok-Tar broke the connection. He stood, disbelief written on his face.
‘Such deception! These bodies were to be scattered over the battlefield, leaving the impression this was an incursion from the twelfth realm. The goal was to make the council believe this realm had been invaded and the twelfth’s rebellion was now a direct threat here and, by implication, to all the other realms. What they did not plan for was A-Bra-Ham’s ship. They were expecting your shuttle, Tocmal… and they knew your destination… you were the prize here. Humans killing the commander of Reglaos defence forces… what a message that would send!’ This was the first time Aaron had seen anything like emotion from Jok-Tar. ‘An elaborate, despicabl
e plan, I am sorry my friends, I didn’t believe any of the inner realms were capable of such deception.’
‘Yes, I see… but how did they get these bodies?’
Jok-Tar hesitated. ‘They brought them from the twelfth realm,’ he said quietly. ‘It seems they have found a way to navigate through the eleventh.’
Outside, the three soldiers who had eliminated the guards were standing over the bodies of the Galdorans they had killed, each holding a long bladed knife in one of their hands. Everyone watched and, as one, the three raised their knives and sliced cleanly through their own necks, collapsing over the bodies of their victims.
Petra gasped. ‘Why, Tocmal?’ Her hushed voice was full of emotion.
Tocmal replied solemnly. ‘To take a life in the sacred forest is unforgiveable… to the devout… they had no other choice but to take their own lives. Personally, I do not hold with these ancient superstitions, but I respect those who do.’ He turned to Jok-Tar. ‘Three good Reglaon soldiers sacrificed because of these things.’ In his rage, his eyes were starting to change colour, becoming redder and redder each second. ‘I don’t care how much damage you do to this thing!’ he pointed to the Galdoran. ‘We must find out all we can. Jok-Tar… look outside… look what these monsters have done!
Tocmal moved away from the open hold access ramp and bowed his head as his rage subsided. ‘A-Bra-Ham, please tell me what you know of these humans.’
Aaron looked at each of the pods. ‘Not much. As I said before, they’re pirates. They live at the edge of our galaxy, a place we call the Badlands. It’s a region of space we try to avoid because of the navigation hazards; gravity wells and cosmic storms… it really is a hell hole!
‘Many years ago, a Coalition officer, Darius Tragarian, led a mutiny on one of their ships. He, and others from two different worlds, stole a huge and extremely valuable cargo and disappeared into the Badlands. Since then, their numbers have grown. They are a real nuisance to any vessel in that area, but they usually don’t get involved with politics. They’re just criminals, living by raiding small, weak colonies and preying on freighters. They call themselves Tragarian Raiders.’
