Kyle Katarn: The Rise & Fall
Book 1: Rise of a Hero
Part 2
Chapter 23: Time to Go
A/N: Let's see. Where were things? Oh yes, with Alessa "safe" aboard the Aldera, Kyle returns to his quarters where a picture of him and Jan brings back pleasant memories of the past. However, the nightmare he has that night was extremely uncool! And after learning Alessa is okay, our hero goes to a meeting with Mon Mothma where he finds himself accused of a crime, by no less than Galder!
So what happens next? Well, let's read and see, shall we?
The Next Day
Having waited as long as she dared, Mon Mothma had contacted Galder regarding the charges he had made against Kyle. He had come to the briefing room in such a state that had she not talked to Kyle beforehand, Thonx might have deceived her.
A bandage was wrapped around his forehead, accompanied by several other strategically placed dressings that only served to highlight the marks of livid bruising on his face. The area around his left eye was discolored, not quite a black eye. But as he got closer, Mon Mothma could detect traces of makeup and other colorings that demonstrated the falseness of Galder's "injuries".
He also walked with a slight limp, which she could tell he wasn't faking.
"Mr. Thonx! Are you all right?"
Galder nodded, moving towards the table.
"When I read your complaint, I had no idea your injuries were so severe."
"This is the reason why I sent it, Mon Mothma. Katarn is dangerous. I'm lucky he didn't kill me."
Oh please, Mon Mothma thought. If he had wanted you dead, you wouldn't be here.
"Are you certain you are able to have this meeting? Perhaps you should go to sickbay."
"No!" Galder said, too quickly. Recovering, he continued in a more normal tone. "No, please. I will be all right and this matter is too important to wait."
"Very well," the Rebel leader replied, taking the seat opposite him and pulling up his complaint on the data pad.
"Now," Mon Mothma began, "I understand that…"
Right on time, a "bleep" sound issued from her communicator.
Withdrawing the device, a look of frustration on her face, she answered the call.
"This is Mon Mothma."
"This is Puan Gell in hangar control, Mon Mothma. I…"
"Puan, I am currently in conference. Can this wait?"
"I do not believe so."
She saw Galder give a slight reaction.
"Very well, what is it?"
The next words came in a jumble, the concern in Puan's evident "I'm not exactly sure when it happened, the ship was here during the last sweep. But now it's gone."
"Slow down, Puan," Mon Mothma said patiently. "What ship is missing?"
"The Moldy Crow. It was here during the last security sweep, but now it's gone."
That got Galder's attention. He sat forward in his chair, trying to act nonchalant but clearly listening in.
"The Moldy Crow is missing?" she asked.
"Yes, ma'am," Puan said, "As I said, it was here yesterday. Now, it's gone."
"I see. Thank you for reporting this, Puan. Make sure to pull the hangar security tapes from yesterday. They will need to be reviewed."
"Yes ma'am. Hangar Control out."
Mon Mothma looked towards Galder who was unable to hide the expression of intense interest on his face.
"Has something happened?" he asked.
"Perhaps," she replied, switching the communicator to a different channel. "Mon Mothma to Security."
A moment passed, then, "Security here. Chief Plasdan reporting."
"Plasdan, please send two guards to Kyle Katarn's quarters. I need to verify if he is in there or not."
"Understood. Security out."
Setting the communicator down on the table, Mon Mothma raised her eyes to take in Galder's look of surprise.
"Are you sure that's nothing's wrong?" he asked.
"To be truthful, Mr. Thonx, I am not completely sure. Now," she continued, switching topics, "about this line, I want to make sure…"
The distraction was successful and soon Galder was enthusiastically describing more of Kyle's alleged attack. They were nearly finished going over the complaint when her communicator beeped for attention.
"This is Mon Mothma."
"Chief Plasdan here. Kyle's quarters are empty."
Galder stiffened. Had he heard that correctly?
"Are you sure?" Mon Mothma asked.
"Yes ma'am, Kyle's belongings are all here, but there is no trace of him. Shall I begin a search of the ship?"
"No, Chief. I am fairly sure where he went. I will brief you later."
"Yes ma'am," Plasdan replied, surprise in his voice.
Reminding herself to keep up appearances, she had turned back to Galder with a look of surprise and disappointment on her face
"Mon Mothma?"
"Mr. Thonx, I am afraid that, at the moment, your complaint is a moot point. It appears that Kyle has left the New Hope."
Galder went rigid for a moment, his face a mask of shock. The look quickly changed to one of anger.
"He what!"
While Mon Mothma was willing to play this part out, she was not about to let anyone speak to her like that.
"Kindly lower your voice, Mr. Thonx. I will not be addressed in such a manner."
The look of frustration and anger on his face didn't change but, after a moment, he did speak in a lower tone, but through gritted teeth.
"You're telling me that Katarn has escaped this ship?"
"I'm afraid so."
"How?"
"After receiving your complaint yesterday, I met with Kyle and advised him that until a hearing could be convened to address the matter, he was confined to quarters."
"He wasn't escorted there?"
"I saw no need. Kyle has been a loyal member of this crew and followed all of my orders to the letter."
"Until now."
"It appears so."
"What do you mean, 'appears so'? Katarn violated a direct order and then proceeded to steal a ship."
"All true," Mon Mothma admitted, "and when he returns, I will see to it that he is dealt with."
"I still don't understand. No one saw him? No one tried to stop him?"
"The hangar officer, Puan Gell, reported that Kyle entered the hangar shortly after leaving here. It was assumed that he was there to see Wexter, who has been working on Kyle's ship. At this point, all we can assume is that Kyle took the Moldy Crow and somehow convinced Wexter to go with him."
"Or he killed Wexter and then stole the ship," Galder said.
While the comment rankled her, Mon Mothma forced herself not to react. "That is also a possibility. A search of the hangar bay should reveal whether or not it is true."
"I imagine you'll be sending ships out after him," Galder said.
"No."
"No?" he said incredulously, "What do you mean no?"
Mon Mothma's expression was that of an adult patiently addressing a child.
"Mr. Thonx, assuming Kyle left the ship shortly after he was seen entering the hangar bay, it has been over thirty hours since then. He could be in any of a thousand star systems. I am not going to waste time and resources in such a useless endeavor."
"So, you're allowing him to go free, even after what he has done. You're not going to help me or investigate what Katarn did."
Mon Mothma allowed herself a small smile. "Quite the contrary, Mr. Thonx. I am planning on fully investigating, with or without Kyle's presence. I have already selected a team to begin reviewing the evidence and going over both your complaint and Kyle's testimony."
"Kyle's testimony?"
"Oh yes. You see, before I sent Kyle to his quarters, I questioned him about the incident aboard the Aldera, and with his permission, recorded it. That recording will be made available to the investigative team."
"I see," Galder said, his mind racing.
"The team will also need to examine the Aldera, with your sister's permission of course."
"That shouldn't pose a problem," Galder replied, thinking of what he needed to do as soon as he left here.
"Excellent," Mon Mothma, "I will be checking in with you as I receive reports from the team."
"That will be fine," Galder said. "Thank you."
"Not at all. Thank you again for coming, Mr. Thonx."
Realizing he was being dismissed, Galder rose from his chair, gave a short bow to Mon Mothma, then headed for the door.
I've got to move fast, he thought.
Moldy Crow in hyperspace
"Okay Kyle," Wexter said, turning round in his seat, "now that I've helped you, can you please explain what in the blue blazes is going on?"
"Well, "Kyle said wryly, "I found out what Galder's been up to."
Wexter sighed. "What has he done now?"
"Plenty."
"Why do I have the feeling I'm not going to like this?"
"Probably because you won't," Kyle replied, going on to explain about the complaint filed with Mon Mothma, their meeting and her decision.
Wexter was silent for a long time.
Galder, he thought, what are you doing?
"This is nuts," he finally said, "I've seen Galder do dumb things before, but he's never gone this far. Although it does explain why you wanted the hasty departure, so where are we going?"
"The planet Ergo," Kyle replied, pulling out the data disc and handing it over. "All the data is on that. I need you to take me there and drop me off."
"Drop you off?"
Kyle replied affirmatively, giving Wexter the basics of his mission.
The older man look concerned when Kyle finished. "You're sure you don't need any backup?"
"It's going to be hard enough infiltrating the place by myself. Two of us would only complicate things."
"Still…"
"Wexter, the decision is made."
"All right," the older man said, surrendering gracefully, "so once I 'drop you off', what happens next?"
"I infiltrate the base and you take the Crow back to the New Hope."
"Wait a minute," Wexter protested, "you expect me to just leave?"
"Yes," Kyle said seriously, "I do. I plan on stealing one of the pirate's ships' after my mission is finished. I'll get back that way."
"And what if something happens?"
The younger man just stared at him, saying nothing.
"I see."
"That's the way it has to be, Wexter. Besides, I'll have my own personal backup along."
As he said this, Kyle pressed his foot down on a section of the floor. A hidden latch clicked and the hatch opened, exposing the storage area beneath the floor.
But instead of finding the armor and weapons he expected to, there was nothing.
Wait a minute, Kyle thought, staring at the space, I know I stored the extra stuff here. So where is it?
"Wexter," he called, "the cache I keep back here is gone. Check the one up there and see if the stuff is in there."
"It isn't," the older man replied, too quickly.
Looking up, Kyle noticed that Wexter had turned back around, facing forward.
"Wexter?"
No reply.
"Wexter, what did you do?"
Still no reply.
"Wexter, you've got three seconds to tell me what you did with the caches I had hidden in the ship."
"Well… you see… I don't… they're…"
Kyle's heart fell. "Please don't tell me you've lost them."
"Oh no," Wexter said confidently, "no, no, no. They're not lost. I know exactly where they are."
"Then tell me where," Kyle said, beginning to get angry.
"They're in a storage locker."
"A storage locker," Kyle repeated.
"Yeah, a storage locker… on the hangar deck… back on the New Hope."
"WHAT!"
"Wait, Kyle, let me explain!"
"Explain!" the younger man raged, "What's there to explain, Wexter! I needed those weapons! That's why I stored them in the ship!"
"Kyle, if you'll just give me a minute…"
Realizing that yelling at Wexter wasn't going to solve anything, Kyle forced to speak calmly.
"No, no, just give me a sec here."
Wexter was silent as Kyle took a minute to overcome the shock of what had happened.
"All right," he said, voice much calmer, "what happened?"
"I was making the repairs to the Crow," Wexter explained, "and I had to get at some of the wiring beneath the floor panels."
"And so you removed the caches."
"I was planning on putting them back," Wexter said, "in fact, I was going to do it today just before you showed up. And by the time I remembered them…"
"I see," Kyle replied, understanding the why and how.
"I'm truly sorry, Kyle," Wexter said sincerely, "I had no idea you'd need them."
"No, you didn't. Okay Wexter, you're forgiven. But next time, let me know before you touch my stuff, okay?"
"You got it."
"Well," Kyle mused, "this mission just got a lot harder. No weapons, no armor. I'm going have to rethink the infiltration plan."
"We could go back to the New Hope," Wexter offered.
"No, we can't," Kyle said, shaking his head, "if Galder finds out I'm back aboard, it'll force Mon Mothma's hand. She'll have to arrest me for deserting the ship."
"Oh."
"Yeah, so as I said, the mission has gotten a lot harder."
Wexter suddenly snapped his fingers. "Hey! I just remembered. I did bring along one thing that should help you."
"Oh yeah? What?"
In response, Wexter passed a small box back to him.
Opening it, Kyle found two objects inside. He removed one.
Twin black armbands were attached to a slender green tube about four inches long. Adjoining the tube was a small control panel with three indicator lights, two buttons and a small display.
"What is this?"
"Your shields," Wexter said proudly.
"My what?" Kyle said, not sure he had heard correctly.
"Your personal shields," Wexter repeated. "Each of those devices contains a small shield emitter capable of generating a defensive shield."
"You're kidding," Kyle said, not sure if he believed it.
"Nope. Among the other things Jan told us, she mentioned a lady named Blaze who worked with you two for a while."
Blaze, Kyle thought, actually Mara Jade. I still can't believe we never suspected her true identity. He realized Wexter was still talking.
"Sorry, can you say that again?"
"I said that Jan mentioned Blaze had a personal shield and there was talk of developing something similar for you to take on missions. From what Jan said, you tend to get hurt quite a bit."
"That's putting it mildly," Kyle replied, "so these are going to provide me with my own shield?"
"Exactly," Wexter said.
"How does it work?"
"Simple. The green button activates the shield. The red one turns it off."
"That is pretty easy. What about the rest?"
"The display will show you how much shield energy you have left."
"Have left?"
Wexter shrugged. "You have to understand that these emitters provide a limited amount of power. If you get shot, it's going to drain some of the emitter's power."
"Which is where the display comes in."
"Right. It'll let you know how much shield energy remains."
"Okay, got that. What about these indicators?"
"They're designed to provide a backup to the display. Green indicates 100 down to about 70. After that, the yellow light will come on."
"And the red?"
"If that comes on, you're in trouble. It indicates the shield power is at 20 or less. At the point, your shield will be weak enough that weapons will begin to penetrate it.
"And that means ouch time."
"Uh-huh," Wexter said. "Now, the good thing is that upon returning from a mission, you can recharge the emitter and use it again."
"Good, good," Kyle said, then, "Wait a sec, Wexter. There's two of them in here."
The older man smirked at him. "It's called a backup."
"Ah," Kyle said, understanding, "got it. Well, these will come in handy. Thank you, Wexter."
"No sweat."
Kyle slipped both of the armbands over his forearms, adjusting them until they rode comfortably.
"Now if I just…" He snapped his fingers. "I've got it."
"What?"
"A new plan. Initially, I was going to have you land well outside the base. But, given my lack of equipment, I'm thinking of a more frontal assault."
"Frontal assault? On the smuggler base? Are you nuts?"
"Hear me out," Kyle said, "I'm not talking about going to start a firefight. What I want to do is make an approach from high orbit, then dive in on the base. As soon as we're close enough, you make a low pass, drop me, and then blast outta there."
"What if they have weapons emplacements on the base?" Wexter asked.
"That's the beauty of this approach," Kyle countered, "by the time they detect us, we'll be moving too fast for a positive lock. Now once I'm out of the ship, I'd recommend you skim the surface until you're out of weapons range, then grab sky."
"I don't know, Kyle. This seems awfully risky. If they detect our approach any earlier, the Crow will make a perfect target dropping in like that. And if there's ground troops deployed, they could capture you."
Kyle interrupted. "And if the Emperor had had a teddy bear as a child, maybe he wouldn't be so mean now. Wexter, I realize there's plenty of ifs on this mission. But the fact is, I need to get on board that smuggler ship and the only way to do it is to infiltrate the smuggler base. Besides, I've been at this a while. If I didn't think I could pull it off, we wouldn't be going."
Wexter still looked unconvinced.
"Look, you've trusted me this far. Trust me now, Wexter."
There was a long pause, then, "All right! All right! I don't like it. But all right!"
"Okay then, let's get the coordinates set for Ergo."
Wexter placed the data disc into the Crow's nav computer. After a few moments, it pulled up the data on Ergo. Wexter pressed a button to accept the course change and both men felt the ship bank slightly as it changed course.
Several Hours Later
A flicker in space, a low roar lost in the vacuum and the Moldy Crow streaked into view as it dropped from hyperspace. It turned, nose angling for the planet just ahead.
"Is that it?" Wexter asked.
"According to the data from Mon Mothma, yes. That's Ergo," replied Kyle.
"Nice looking place."
They fell towards a medium-sized world, fully half its surface a mixture of different shades of tan. What water was visible from space shone in a mixture of blues.
"You'd think so," Kyle said, "but check out that sun up there."
Craning his neck, Wexter saw the massive orb that was the system's sun. But unlike the bright yellow-white he had expected; this one had a more reddish color to it.
"That doesn't look right," Wexter observed, "what is it?"
"Red giant star," Kyle explained, "a sun near the end of its life. Some time later, it'll probably collapse into a neutron star. When that happens…"
"Yes?" Wexter pressed.
"Well, let's just say it's going to get really cold really fast."
"What about right now?"
"That's why I said you'd think Ergo is a nice looking place. Red giants tend to raise planetary temperatures. So, it might be a little warm down there."
"How warm?" the older man said tensely
"Calm down, Wexter. However warm it is, you're only going to feel for as long as it takes to drop me off."
"Right," Wexter said, a bit calmer now. "Forgot about that."
"Now," Kyle said, "all we need to do is find the smuggler base."
"Sure," Wexter said, "um… how are we going to do that?"
Rolling his eyes, Kyle explained. "The smuggler ship was tracked here. All we have to do is locate the ion trail from its engines and follow it to the base."
Activating the Crow's scanners, he began searching. But after about twenty minutes, the Crow holding position in high orbit over the planet, Kyle lifted his head, frowning at the display.
"Any luck?" Wexter called.
"No," Kyle replied, forcing himself to say no more. Wexter had asked him the same question over and over again until Kyle had begun responding automatically.
"You're sure the ion trail wouldn't have degraded by now?"
Only because he hadn't considered this kept Kyle from responding angrily. What if the ships trail had degraded? They could searching and searching and find nothing.
Rather than think about that possibility any more, Kyle called, "Let's try another sector of the planet. Move us to the southern hemisphere."
"Okay," said Wexter, increasing power to the engines and angling the Crow's nose in the proper direction. It took some time, but Wexter eventually brought the Crow to a relative stop in the proper location.
"Okay," Kyle said, bending down to the scanner, "here we go again."
The first few minutes were as fruitless as the previous twenty. Doubt began to whisper inside his brain, threatening to disrupt his focus.
It's got to be here, Kyle thought. It's just got to be.
Just then, a blip appeared on the display. It was faint, barely readable. But it was there.
"I think I've got something. Increasing power to scanners."
Another minute passed as Kyle studied the readings he was getting. Finally he sat up, a triumphant smile on his face. "That's it! We've found it, Wexter!"
"You sure?"
"Scanner's reading the remnants of an ion trail. Here, take a look."
Flipping a switch, Kyle fed the readings he was seeing to Wexter's display.
The older man studied them a minute, then, "Yep, that's an ion trail all right. So all we need to do now is follow it."
"You got it," said Kyle.
It took another fifteen minutes, but the trail stayed strong and when it turned straight down, Kyle knew it could only be the smuggler base.
"Okay, Wexter, let's do this. Shields up."
The invisible bubble of defensive energy materialized around the Crow.
"Now, remember, free fall towards the base until we hit the lower atmosphere. At that point, you need to begin pulling us out. Otherwise…"
"I got it," Wexter said, seeing an image of the Crow impacting the ground at full speed in his mind. "You ready back there?"
"All strapped in."
Taking a deep breath, the older man pushed the control stick forward, aiming the Crow's nose at the surface of Ergo. A quick blast from the engines sent the ship dropping down towards the planet.
Gradually, as they descended, the planet grew larger and larger, encompassing their entire forward view. A slight shudder as the hull made contact with the edge of the atmosphere.
"Shields?" Kyle asked.
"At full power," Wexter replied.
The shudder returned, a bit more intense this time.
"Look!" Wexter cried.
"I see it," said Kyle.
Outside the ship, the cone of shield energy surrounding the forward part of the ship was now visible. A deep red glow was visible, which began to grow brighter as they dropped further. A minute later, the glow was orange-white and streaks of flame began to reach upwards towards the rest of the ship.
"It's getting hot," Wexter said, already feeling sweat breaking out on the top of his head.
"Think cool thoughts," Kyle advised.
The shuddering now turned into buffeting, the Crow vibrating as the thicker layers of atmosphere began to slow its headlong plunge.
And while neither man would know it until it was too late, their approach was detected.
Planet Ergo
Smuggler Base
It was mid-afternoon on another hot humid day, the temperature just shy of triple digits. The few guards stationed outside looked for even the smallest sliver of shade. A few looked longingly at their water bottles. But as the bottle contained all the water they would get for a ten-hour shift, they had to be careful to ration it.
But in the office of Frenden Moxgond, the temperature was a comfortable 74 degrees, the air conditioning system making sure the temperature stayed there. Seated at the desk of his former boss, Lux Henater, Frenden glanced over the latest report from his spies in the gang. As he suspected, most of the group were growing restless. The botched spice smuggling operation had enabled him to rally support for himself and take out Henater. But now, the rest were wondering if Frenden was any better than the previous boss.
This shipment of weapons to the Empire is the key to solidifying my hold on the gang. It's got to go perfectly. And once it does, anyone who opposes me will find themselves standing alone.
At the same time, Frenden almost wished someone in the gang would make a move. Putting his left hand over his right, he pressed down, cracking his knuckles, the sound like small gunshots in the quiet room.
Born on a heavy gravity world, Frenden Moxgond was not a tall man, only a shade over five feet in height. But he made up for his short stature with a weight well over three hundred pounds, nearly all of it solid muscle. His long black hair cascaded about halfway down his back; half of it dyed blood red. Black pants and a black shirt only added to his air of mystique around the others. The only spot of color in his clothing was the white fur of a kleeoyte wolf he had killed years ago on his home planet, using only his bare hands. The fur was arranged like a scarf, looping behind Frenden's massive neck and cascading down either side of his chest.
Pondering if he needed to do something sooner about the voices of discontent, he didn't hear succession of knocks at the door to his office. A moment later, however, Frenden did notice as the door opened and his aide came scurrying in.
Hazel eyes locked onto the Rodian as he moved to stand in front of the desk. Normally, Frenden liked the Rodians. Among all the races he knew, they were the easiest to intimidate. And this one, upon seeing his friend Lux Henater gunned down, was given a choice to swear fealty to Frenden or die. And, so far, the Rodian had proven to be a capable aide.
"Sir, sir," the Rodian said in its language, which Frenden had learned from Henater, "Axon has just detected…"
As Frenden pulled his blaster out and leveled it, the aide stopped speaking.
"What have I said about entering my office uninvited?"
"But sir, I…"
A single crimson bolt struck the permacrete just in front of the Rodian, showering him with pieces of it.
"I'll ask you again. What have I said about entering my office uninvited?"
Realizing that anything but the right answer would mean his death; the aide spoke his next words carefully.
"That no one is to enter your office without being invited or knocking first and being invited in."
"And you did neither," Frenden said.
"I did knock, sir," the aide said.
"I didn't hear it."
"My apologies, sir. I should have knocked harder."
"Yes," Frenden said, nodding, "you should have. Now, what is the one exception to the rule you just mentioned?"
"One may enter the office without being invited if and only if it is an emergency."
"Correct. Now, given that you have entered my office uninvited, can I assume this is an emergency?"
"I believe it is," the aide, somewhat confidently, "yes sir."
Frenden nodded again, relaxing his grip on the blaster a little, but not pointing it away from the aide.
"Then speak and tell me what the 'emergency' is."
"Yes, sir. I have just come from Axon's office. He has detected an object entering the atmosphere over the base. Axon thinks it may be…"
"An object entering the atmosphere?" Frenden said, anger in his voice, "you barge into my office, say it's an emergency, and then tell me an object is entering the atmosphere?"
"Yes sir," the aide said, "but there is…"
The scream, when it came, echoed briefly in the room.
Holstering the blaster, Frenden glared at the smoking body of his aide.
"An object," he snorted dismissively.
But wait, he thought, didn't the Rodian say it was over the base? That did strike him as odd.
Perhaps I should check into this, Frenden thought, standing up from his chair. Stepping over the body of his aide, the smuggler chief made his way down a short hall to the last door on the right. Opening it, he stepped into the small tactical room the smugglers had cobbled together from earlier raids.
Frenden noticed Axon Halster was on duty. Like himself, Axon was human, but more normal sized. And he was young. Having joined the gang some years before himself, Frenden had tried to find out about Axon, but no one seemed to know much about him. Even Lux had commented on how little they knew about Axon.
Shortly after Frenden had taken control of the gang, he had questioned Axon closely, even threatened to kill him if he didn't talk. Axon had shrugged, saying, "Go ahead." Realizing normal interrogation techniques wouldn't work with this one, Frenden had given it a few days thought, then met with Axon again.
This time, Frenden talked mostly about himself, what it was like growing up on a heavy gravity world, what it felt liked the first time he had left home. He had just gotten to the point in his life where he had joined the Dark Raiders when Axon suddenly spoke up.
"Yeah, I guess lighter gravity would feel weird to you. Me, I'd like to go to your world. Maybe there I could finally get big enough to get people to leave me alone."
"What do you mean, Axon? Is someone here bothering you?"
"Nah, not really. Most of the guys just call me 'kid' or ask me how old I am, where my mommy is, that kind of stuff."
"You're saying it doesn't bother you?"
"Not really. They're just messing with me. Besides, I've been of enough help to the gang that most know what I can do. That gets me some respect."
"I've seen it too. Is it true you built the tactical center yourself?"
"Yeah," Axon said proudly, smiling. "I did that."
"So if the gang isn't the problem, what is it?"
"Whaddya wanna know for?"
Realizing that Axon was closing down, Frenden knew he had to tread carefully.
"I don't. You were the one who mentioned it."
There was a long pause, then with a smirk, Axon said, "Yeah, I suppose I did."
"I'll bet I can guess."
Axon looked up, surprised. But after a moment, the smirk returned. "You think so?"
"Sure," Frenden said looking directly at him, "I think you're probably some spoiled rich kid with a talent for computers who decided to defy his mommy and daddy by not going into the family business."
Axon was silent for a long time, enough that Frenden wondered if he hit home with his guess. As he waited for the young man to reply, Frenden looked intently at him. Although he stood three inches taller than the smuggler chief, Axon was a lot smaller; a thin body bolstered somewhat by wiry muscle. His smallish face had an abundance of freckles. Blue eyes glowed with intelligence beneath a crown of short red hair. As with every day, Axon wore one of the seemingly endless supply of green shipboard coveralls he possessed. You couldn't look at him and not wonder what he was doing as a member of the Dark Raiders.
But where his appearance was unassuming, Axon's mind was quick and able. His ability with computers had enabled the Dark Raiders to stay in the running even after several botched smuggling runs and raids.
"So that's what you think," he suddenly said, startling Frenden. The smuggler chief nodded after a moment.
"Well, you're close. See, my father…" Axon went on to tell a tale of a rich banking family where Axon's achievements had gone virtually unnoticed because of "my perfect older brother". As the boy wove his tale, Frenden found himself getting lost in it. It was until Axon was describing his home that Frenden saw the smirk was still there.
The little son of a…He's lying right to my face and I didn't notice it until now.
As Axon continued speaking, Frenden rose from the table quickly, moving before Axon realized what was happening. A massive hand crashed against the boys' cheek, knocking his head to side. Only by gripping the chair rails with both hands kept him from being catapulted out of it.
He looked up at Frenden, one whole side of his face bright red, and a small trickle of blood issuing from his lip. But to the smuggler's surprise, the boy didn't cry or ask why. He just stared up at Frenden, his gaze unflinching.
"Nice story, kid. You had me fooled there for a second. But try it again and I will kill you."
Axon said nothing, but the smirk returned, so blatant Frenden nearly struck him again. Instead, he stared down at the young man, eyes searching.
A moment later, it hit him. He wants me to do it. He actually does. Maybe Axon is as nuts as the others say he is.
"Okay kid," Frenden finally said, "I don't know if its because you've got guts or you're just crazy, but you win for now. Go ahead and keep your secrets to yourself."
Axon nodded, then added politely, "Thank you. I will."
Frenden was taken completely aback. The kid's mood had changed like lighting. From arrogance to politeness just like that. Who are you, Axon Halster? Better yet, what are you?
But right now, Frenden needed to know about this thing in the atmosphere. The boy turned towards him as he entered.
"Axon, anything unusual on the scanners?"
"No," the boy answered, not even glancing at his instruments.
So you want to do it the hard way, Frenden thought.
"Then why did my aide come storming into my office telling me you had spotted an object entering the atmosphere?"
"Oh that," Axon said, as if remembering, "It's nothing."
"Nothing," Frenden repeated, "you're sure?"
"Didn't I just say that?"
"Watch your mouth, kid. Let me see this thing."
"Sure," Axon said, shrugging in a nonchalant fashion and turning back to his controls. It took only a few seconds for him to bring up the object on the radar.
Frenden saw it, a white dot on the screen, moving towards the base.
"Anything on the external cameras?"
"Dunno," the boy said, but he reached for the switch that activated them. One of the four display screens snapped on, the picture wavering slightly, then steadying. On it, Frenden could see a large fireball of orange, red and white streaking down out of the sky.
"See?" Axon said, pointing at the image, "Just like I said, nothing."
"Maybe," Frenden said, eyes not leaving the screen. "Maybe not. Let's wait a few more minutes."
"Okay," the boy said, leaning back in his chair, "should be a good fireworks show when it breaks up."
That's when we'll know for surethe smuggler chief thought. "How long?"
"Five minutes, maybe less."
Time ticked by as the fireball's colored deepened into shades of dark red and orange.
"Any time now," Axon said.
But instead of seeing the fireball break up, the pair saw twin lances of blue fire shoot out. Mottled gray, silver and black metal became visible and a moment later, the ship's nose was visible, the glow of repulsors joining the engines as the ship pulled up, reducing its speed.
Frenden glared down at Axon, who gaze was still fixed on the display.
"Nothing, huh?"
"Well, look at that," the boy said admiringly, "guess I was wrong."
A fist shot out, striking him in the shoulder, the blow strong enough to throw him from the chair. Uttering a small cry of pain, Axon crumpled onto the deck, holding his injured shoulder.
"Next time, make sure before you say it's nothing," Frenden said, "Now get up! I want the Z-95 scrambled and in the air!
When Axon didn't move immediately, Frenden yelled, "NOW!"