Seven
Planet Wayfarer
Syndicate Star System Wayfarer
17 September 2017
The lowering jawbridge slammed down on the other half of the stone bridge, the impact echoing across the landscape. Moments later, a group of people, two women, four men, exited, stepping through the pulsating nimbus. The man and woman leading the way were sheathed in suits of power armor, while the others wore nondescript clothes designed to not draw attention. Everyone except the two in the armor carried bags of various items and equipment they required.
The jawbridge boomed closed behind them.
A portal opened in the air on the other side of the chasm surrounding Castle Grayskull, a platform descending from the forward cargo hold of the cloaked Ladyhawke. Two Val-kyrie stepped off the platform as the group approached.
"Everything check out?" Adrian Cobretti asked the pilot.
She nodded. "All systems are functioning. We were warned about the AI, but she seems to be a little subdued."
"Well, the electronic equivalent of a near-death experience tends to have that effect," Sorceress replied.
Arm-clasping, the Earth version of a handshake, was exchanged between the crews. The Val-kyrie crew headed for another opening that appeared fifty meters away at ground level. Another crew had opened the aft ramp of a cloaked scout ship. A final salute from the departing warriors and the opening disappeared behind the closing ramp.
The group boarded the platform while the Sorceress stood by the control panel.
"I've seen snails move faster," Colonel Markson commented as the platform slowly rose into the starship.
Everyone ignored him. Offhand comments from him were becoming the norm.
"What is it, Gunny?" the Sorceress asked Apone. He continued to stare at the castle.
"I can't get over how small the castle is on the outside," he grunted. He longed for the taste of a good cigar he usually carried around with him, but his cover for this mission meant he had to abstain, and he wasn't happy about it.
"It's more impressive going the other way," she assured him. Casually, she turned her gaze to the Evergreen Forest on the right. She had been scanning the area with her magical senses, making sure there wasn't anyone spying on them. There was someone out there, hiding in the foliage, watching. It was a remarkably familiar presence to her, and personal. She did not mention it to her companions.
Once the platform ground to a halt inside the bay, the armored hatch plates closed beneath them. Adrian led the way up the short ladder and into the main corridor running the length of the starship. He pointed out the armory on the left, along with the two quarters that belonged to him and the Sorceress. The other two were available for the others to change clothes in. Apone, Anyssa and the colonel stored their bags in the spare rooms, giving one over for the princess to use.
Up another ladder, bringing them to the main deck where the cockpit and crew galley were located. Adrian noticed an immediate change. There were some modifications the Val-kyrie had wanted to make in this section and it looked like they had gone ahead with the alterations. Certain sections of the starship were modular to facilitate relatively quick changes to suit mission needs. In this case, the wall to the left should have been ten feet further toward the bow. Instead, it was snugged up to the access well. Adrian knew what piece of equipment had been installed in the aft section of the cockpit but took the newcomers on a tour of the galley first.
Storage bins, cabinets and counters lined the left and aft bulkheads. The bulk of the space was taken up by a circular table and padded seating. It looked like any booth one would find in a restaurant. Nothing appeared to have been changed except for the touch pad opposite where they stood. That meant the table had been replaced with one that contained a holographic projector imbedded in the center.
Adrian and the Sorceress walked forward through the open hatch on the starboard side, into the cockpit. The alterations Adrian had noticed earlier became apparent. Instead of a smooth perpendicular bulkhead on the left, a cubbyhole had been created to accommodate the rectangular system status display panel. Larger versions were in use on battlestars for planning operations, checking the status of the starship, and projecting 2D and 3D images of just about anything. He couldn't wait to try it out.
The rest of the layout had not been changed. Sorceress clambered into the forward station for the navigator. Adrian slid into the pilot's seat situated right beside the navigator's seat. Two stations further aft facing to port and starboard contain auxiliary control panels for operating everything from the weapons to sensors to damage control. As a last-ditch option, these stations could be used to pilot the starship if the pilot and navigator stations went down.
Anyssa climbed into the seat on the port side while the colonel took the starboard seat. Adrian advised him to not touch anything until he could be trained on how to use the sensor controls. Gabe and Apone moved to the back of the cubbyhole where a bench seat had been bolted to the aft bulkhead.
"I was wondering if you would return to me," the ship's AI declared.
"Now how could we ever replace you with another AI?" Adrian asked. Another addition he hadn't noticed earlier was an overhead control panel above his and the Sorceress' stations. As the ship systems came online, the panels extended downward so that they were within reach of the seated person.
"Especially when we almost have you broken in," Sorceress added.
"Input passcode for system release," Miriam responded. "I don't like doing test runs. They are so boring. You are a much more fun crew to have."
So much for the near-death experience taking the edge off her homicidal tendencies, Adrian thought. "Live large and stay hard," he said aloud.
Apone grunted his approval.
"What?" the colonel asked.
"You are a Green Beret, and you don't recognize that?"
"It does sound familiar," the colonel admitted.
Apone told him about the book series, and its spinoffs called The Executioner. At the mention of the name and the main character of the series, Mack Bolan, the colonel experienced total recall.
"You thought only ground pounders read that?" Adrian threw out.
"So that's all it takes to start this thing up?" Jon said, changing the subject.
"Not quite," Anyssa said.
The Sorceress elaborated. "The lock also requires a voice print along with the phrase."
Jon smiled. "There is always a backdoor."
"Nothing you would have access to," Miriam said tersely. "All systems were fully functional."
After checking all her status displays, including the new overhead consoles that lowered to within reach, Sorceress plotted the course to the Wayfarer star system and locked it into the navigational computer. Surreptitiously, she switched the center monitor to one of the forward cameras and focused on a point at the edge of the Evergreen Forest. In moments, she spotted the lone figure crouching in the foliage. The mane of red hair and gold tiara were just visible from this angle.
The image bucked slightly and shifted as Adrian lifted the starship off the ground. Sorceress sent the telepathic equivalent of a caress to Teela and wished her well. She heard Teela's thoughts asking if the Sorceress was off on another adventure. Although she wanted to, Sorceress refrained from answering. The telepathic contact would have to suffice.
While Adrian and the Sorceress were used to the panoramic view, the others were not. Even Anyssa was amazed at the clarity of the displays. The starship easily slid through the clear blue sky, aiming for orbit and beyond.
Gradually, sky-blue atmosphere darkened until all at once it turned to night. The arc of the planet dropped away to the rear to be replaced by a sheet of black, broken by pinpricks of white. Eternia had several moons, but Adrian steered well clear of them.
Once far enough out of the gravity well, Adrian disengaged the visual cloak, but maintained the sensor cloak in case there was a Horde warship lurking about. After they were clear of the planet's gravity well, Miriam took control, swung the starship around on the proper heading and made the jump to hyperspace. A cloud formed in the starship's path, tendrils of electricity sparkling across its surface. Ladyhawke leapt through, into the cloud, and disappeared.
The flight to the hub of syndicate activity took only a few hours at the starship's top speed. Adrian, the Sorceress, the colonel and Apone retired to the quarters to change clothes for the roles they were to play. Anyssa had already donned her formal outfit; she had had it hidden under her cloak when they arrived through Castle Grayskull. She would wear the cloak until they arrived in the council chamber on Wayfarer. Anyone recognizing her a Val-kyrie royalty might get ideas they could ill afford. You have her wearing her armor in the actual meeting; readers can wait until then for the description.
Apone and the colonel were given outfits that were the latest trend in the circles of bodyguards. Non-descript darker colors with openly displayed thigh holsters and rifles slung across the back and tactical glasses to hide their eyes.
Adrian and the Sorceress donned the outfits they had used previously after the mission to the penal planet. Adrian wore all black leather with a duster concealing a gun belt with the holsters strapped to each thigh. He debated taking the FN2000 rifle along, knowing he had to make a final decision once they reached the planet.
The Sorceress looked every bit the part of the bounty hunter's attractive companion. She wore silver boots, with solid heels instead of separate spikes for better stability, reaching up to mid-thigh. Silver cups pointed at the bottom ends protected the shoulders. Metal lightning bolt effects stretched across the tops of her breasts with an exaggerated diamond piece centered on the sternum. A silver panel wrapped around from the back to cross under the ribs and end in a point on the lower belly. Three more stretched diamonds were set in this band. The silver was offset by a tight-fitting blue jumpsuit that left the upper chest bare. The base color of the costume was the same shade of blue as the beak of her falcon head dress. A cape that was the same shade of blue completed the look. It was one piece that had to be pulled on over her head and settled about her shoulders, with the hood down for the moment. The cape stretched down to the ankles and flowed almost with a life of its own. The costumer had shown the Sorceress how to set the garment in place so that the material stayed in place across the shoulders, since there was not enough of it to enclose her shapely body.
Apone and the colonel could not help gawking at the pair – the Sorceress specifically – when they entered the lounge. Sorceress slipped the cloak and hood up over her head and draped it over the back of the curved lounge seat. The action only enhanced the movements of her toned body, especially when she slid in one end of the bench seat.
Adrian eased in on the other side.
"You two look like bookends," Gabe commented from the counter along the starboard bulkhead where the food was stored. He had a small stack of sandwiches piled on a plate. "What?" he said when he found everyone eying him. "I didn't have anything to eat before we left."
"Well, that's actually a good idea," the colonel remarked. He and Apone helped themselves to the limited selection of menu items.
Time passed slowly as the starship hurtled through hyperspace. Another tactic to pass the time was catching a nap whenever possible; one never knew when food and rest might come along again.
Adrian snapped awake suddenly, sweating profusely. Sorceress eyed him silently, concern in her eyes. Ever since the six of them had recovered the battlesuits and received the memory downloads from the former operators, they had been experiencing the occasional bad dream. Dreams that had been increasing in frequency and intensity. Mainly, they were of battles fought long ago that none of them had been present for. Every one of them ran along the same narrative that always ended with the destruction of suit and operator.
Brad and the Sorceress thought there might be message in them. After comparing notes about their respective dreams, none of them could come up with a central meaning. There was something there. Something staring them in the face, but no one could figure it out. Adrian was particularly vexed because he should know the meaning of the dreams, but it kept slipping away upon waking.
Like now.
"Damn. I think I almost had it that time," Adrian groaned, sitting up.
"If it is any consolation," she replied, "my repeated meditation attempts have met with little success."
Adrian nodded. "We may have to try out your suggestion."
Sorceress had proposed forming a telepathic link between their minds and collectively delve into their dreams together. A second person could observe things normally missed on the first run through. The problem with a telepathic link was that it opened both people up to the thoughts and feelings of the other. There were ways to keep personal thoughts and feelings hidden, but one had to be trained on how to do it. Adrian was game for it if she was, but he hesitated to voice his willingness to her.
"Five minutes to normal space," Miriam announced, breaking the mood.
"Saved by the homicidal AI," Adrian muttered.
Everyone was in position when Miriam dropped the starship back into normal space. A pinpoint of light off the starboard bow rapidly grew into the shape of a space station. Adrian confirmed their position outside the orbit of the fifth planet, and on course for the fourth planet.
Gabe, Apone and Jon stared at the starboard half of the wraparound screen. The Ladyhawke soared by the massive station at a distance of fifty-thousand kilometers. Even at that distance, the structure filled the entire starboard side and the ceiling screens. Adrian had to admit that he hadn't noticed display plates on the ceiling before. Or maybe they had been installed in the upgraded cockpit assembly.
"The international space station is a flea compared to that monster," Gabe breathed in awe.
"Some of the others are even larger," Anyssa said from the sensor station on the port side.
Boss Nash's station was an amazing feat of engineering. The power core was at the bottom of the structure. Above that rested the immense docking hub. Topping the form were twin towers connected by several bridges. Closer inspection revealed that the outer hull was anything but smooth. Bumps covered the surface in many places by necessity during construction. Others were by design for all sorts of reasons from restaurants to observation domes, to places people could go just to see stars.
Boss Nash's other station was positioned just over the horizon of the fourth planet. This one was purely function for refining raw materials, manufacturing and formed the hub of his business empire's shipping and receiving. All the crime families owned a two-station setup for that purpose.
Planet Wayfarer soon filled the forward display. Miriam contacted the Gravnine spaceport control for a docking bay assignment. The meeting would take place in the spaceport rather than one of the outlying cities. A pity, really, considering the planet had a temperate climate unspoiled by industry. The families were many things, but spoiling the environment was something no one wanted to be responsible for. Hence the industrial complexes strewn throughout the system.
The scar that was the spaceport had been built in a desert area the approximate size of Texas and Alaska combined with the continent of Africa on Earth. Arid conditions were favorable for spacecraft in that it kept down the corrosion factor, similar to why surplus aircraft were often stored in desert environments on Earth.
Miriam locked onto the beacon for bay sixty-seven. It was in a sector for medium-sized starships like the Ladyhawke. Many of the docks were circles set in square blocks. However, the larger ships tended to be blocky, cumbersome transports where cargo space mattered more than aerodynamics. Longer ships like the Ladyhawke required spaces that were either larger squares or one of the few rectangles built for the long haulers.
Miriam expertly set down in the docking bay with barely a jolt. Adrian and the Sorceress shut down all systems, switching to the new observations mode now routed through the display console at the back of the cockpit.
Sorceress retrieved the cloak from the galley and joined everyone one deck down, by the armory locker. Adrian handed out energy weapons to Jon and Apone. The men strapped on the belts and holsters, inserted power cells, checked the power levels and slid the weapons into the leather holsters. Adrian charged two laser rifles, handed them and extra cells to both men.
Adrian loaded the two pistols Apone had picked out to replace the autoloaders lost on the mission to liberate He-man and She-ra from the penal planet. They were worthy replacements that would turn out to be even better than the originals. He donned a black leather duster, dropped spare mags into a pocket. He pulled an FN 2000 from the rack, a model that did not have a 40mm grenade launcher mounted under the barrel, snapped the bolt closed, slapped in a 30-round magazine and shook it to make sure it was properly seated. He slung the weapon in plain sight across his back.
"So, what are we again?" Jon asked.
Anyssa walked up thoroughly draped in a cloak and hood that completely concealed her identity.
"You and Apone are bodyguards hired by me to escort the representative from the Val-kyrie government to the meeting of the mindless with the bosses," Adrian answered. He closed and locked the armory and moved forward to the ladder.
"I am a powerful sorceress who grew disillusioned with her life safeguarding ancient texts of spells and history books no one would ever read. I left home, seeking to see the galaxy and maybe have some exciting adventures along the way." She cast a sidelong glance at Adrian, who was putting a patch in place over his left eye. "How little did I know what I would be in for."
Apone pointed asked Adrian, "And that makes you?"
"I get to be the scary bounty hunter. Trust me. I got the hard part." Grinning, Adrian gripped the sides of the ladder with hands and feet, letting loose a maniacal cackle and sliding to the lower deck.
"I guess that makes me the moron support," Gabe said from the deck above. He had the job of monitoring from the ship. He didn't like it, but understood the necessity of having someone to hold down the fort. And the Sorceress promised to bring him a souvenir and a sampling of the local cuisine.
"Did you just make a joke?" Apone asked, impressed.
"A bad one."
"I told Adrian that you had a sense of humor buried under that crusty exterior," Sorceress replied, smiling up at him. She flipped the cape around and settled it across her shoulders, leaving the hood down for the moment.
The colonel stared though the opening in the deck. Another maniacal cackle drifted up to them. "I think he's getting worse."
The Sorceress stepped onto the rungs. "Well, you recommended him to General Hammond to play the part." She disappeared down the ladder.
"So, you are to blame for this," Apone said.
"Why don't you argue about it later," Anyssa suggested, following the Sorceress.
Apone shot a look at the colonel, promising a further discussion later.
Warm, dry air blew into the forward cargo compartment the moment the outer doors recessed inward and parted. Hard packed dirt was visible around the edges of the platform as it descended. The dock, like most of the spaceport, had been built from local materials. The structures weathered the elements better than using more modern materials so well that the families saw no need to change. They simply built newer structures when required on the scale needed.
No one was present to greet the new arrivals, either within the dock or just outside it. Despite the worn appearance, Jon noted that the dock was in good repair, like everything else in the spaceport. The streets were wide to accommodate a steady stream of traffic. Pedestrians clogged the smaller avenues without causing logjams.
Within a few minutes, the group arrived at the main avenue that serviced the city portion of the port. Cobra led the way with Teelana at his left side. Anyssa followed a few steps behind with Jon and Apone bringing up the rear. The pair had their shades in place, keeping a careful watch for anyone paying an undue amount of attention to them.
No one appeared to spare more than a cursory look at any of them. Evidently, groups like theirs was a common enough occurrence that theirs was just one more in a busy day. Jon did note, however, that certain disreputable beings gave Cobra a wide berth the instant they recognized the one-eyed man dressed all in black moving through the crowds with a purpose.
He and Teelana parted the pedestrians like Moses parting the Red Sea. He, Apone and Anyssa simply followed in their wake. A glance behind revealed the people smoothly flowing together behind them.
"It's good to be the king," Jon commented to Apone out the corner of his mouth.
"More like fear to cross paths with him," Apone responded.
All of them memorized the map of the spaceport. If they had to split up, everyone could meet up later at a designated place.
The destination Boss Nash had designated for the meeting was located near the center of the port. Fortunately, the layout of the streets and alleys made land navigation easy, as long you knew where you were in relation to your intended destination.
Twenty minutes after leaving the dock, the building designated for the meeting came into view. While larger than some of the surrounding single-story buildings, there was nothing setting it apart from any other building along the street.
Cobra stopped to take in the sights and smells. Merchant stalls were everywhere peddling just about anything one could imagine. The aromas of exotic foods mingled with those of humanoids and aliens in close quarters. It was different from the odors of lubricants, grease and other things best not thought of back in the dock.
"Two stationed outside the entrance," Teelana reported. The hood limited her field of view slightly but did not hamper her magical senses.
Cobra grunted, scanning their side of the street. His eye settled on an open hovercar sitting on the side of the street about hundred meters further past the building where the meeting was due to start. Four humanoids sat inside. Each one studied a specific sector of the street and sidewalks. The group was clearly waiting for someone.
"Four in a hovercar down the street. Our side. They are alert for someone."
Everyone in the group had a subvocal earpiece for communications with each other and the starship. Jon and Apone stood twenty feet away with Anyssa. Jon couldn't see the hovercar because he was scanning the area to his left, but Apone quick located it. He agreed with Cobra's assessment; they were on alert.
"A welcoming party?" Apone said quietly.
"Looks that way," Cobra replied.
"Waiting for whom?" Teelana posed, casually looking around. "They haven't spotted us yet. And we have been standing around long enough for them to take notice."
Just then, a cloaked man, topping out a few inches over six feet tall, appeared from an avenue between Cobra's group and the waiting hovercar. The driver spotted the imposing man crossing the street and alerted his mates. The man crossed the street, was stopped briefly at the entrance to the target building and was passed through after an ID check.
"Gabe take another look at the map. Is there another entrance for the building?" Cobra requested.
Back in cockpit of the Ladyhawke, Gabe manipulated the map of the spaceport, finger movements in delicate contact with the tactical station's surface. He zoomed in on the building Cobra had been directed to and studied the display, conscious that he was patiently awaiting Gabe's results.
"Looks like there's an alley that runs all the way around it. There are two other doors; one on each side near the back," Gabe answered.
"Thanks," Cobra said. "Let's slip in the back entrance on the building's left, away from the lookouts."
Anyssa frowned. "You believe we are not the target?"
"Looks that way. Someone else was invited that we weren't told about."
"Only one way to find out," Teelana reminded him.
Teelana boldly crossed the street along with several other pedestrians. No one looked at her even once. Cobra crossed over to join her, and together, they made their way into the network of alleys toward the back of the target building. Jon, Apone and Anyssa made the crossing in short order. Before following the others into the alley, Jon made a quick glance down the street to see what the party in the hovercar was doing. The four were still concentrating on the front of the building. If they had taken notice of the five people walking into the alley, they didn't show it.
Jon joined the flow of other people using the alley network as a shortcut to their destination and met up with the others at the guarded entrance.
"Sorry, pal. The building in closed. Private meeting," the thug on left said.
Cobra eyed the pockmarks on the guy's cheeks, the crewcut and ignored the generally bad disposition. Must not be getting enough fiber in his diet, he thought. "I'm here for the meeting. We're expected."
The reptilian alien on the right gripped his laser pistol a little tighter. "Who are you?" the being hissed.
Cobra pegged him with an acid stare.
"Seriously?" Teelana said. "There can't be that many one-eyed bounty hunters out there."
Crater Face stiffened suddenly. "Cobra," he whispered with equal parts awe and fear. While the thug was built like a defensive lineman and had probably fifty pounds on Cobra, he knew that muscle mass did not ensure victory in a fight. Sometimes it was the little guy who came out on top using means other than brute force.
"Very good," Cobra confirmed. "I see the synapses are starting to fire." His voice dropped from friendly to a few degrees above absolute zero. "Now announce us before your boss comes wondering why you are holding up guests he's expecting."
Crater Face pulled a comm link from his pocket, turned it on and spoke quickly and quietly into it. He answered several questions, paling at the response he got back. He nodded to his companion, stepped aside and palmed the activation plate for the door.
Cobra led the way inside without a further glance at the cannon fodder.
Compared to the bright sunshine outside, entering the building was like stepping into a cave. The plans for the building had been provided along with the date and time for the meeting. The conference room was in the center of the building, with offices and smaller meeting rooms set along the outer wall. There were very few windows; the people who used the building were paranoid about snipers.
The conference room was the largest chamber in the building, measuring about a thousand square feet. The central fixture was a huge circular table, capable of seating a dozen people. Several couches were situated against the left and right walls while a wet bar dominated the back wall.
Two men and a woman sat on the far side of the heavy wooden table. Boss Nash, on the far right, looked resplendent in a tasteful tailored suit that fit his lean frame like a glove. He knew the man calling himself Cobra was not the real bounty hunter: the man currently inhabiting the role lived up to the legends, where the real man had been somewhat less than the fictional tales. Nash had no intention of outing the imposter due to his new standing with the Val-kyrie, who viewed the boss as almost respectable. And as someone they could, and had, worked with in the past.
The man to Nash's right was a heavyset in his mid-fifties, wearing a rumpled ill-fitting suit. Cobra and Boss Lazar knew each other from a previous encounter on Boss Nash's station. Cobra was visiting Nash after the successful conclusion of the mission to the Penal Planet Hel. The side benefit of that mission was when Cardas, a crime boss in exile but still running his organization, got killed when the sole remaining atmospheric station exploded, destroying the only habitable zone left on the planet's surface. Once word of Cardas' demise got out, Lazar figured he could force Cobra into his stable of bounty hunters. Needless to say, the encounter did not go as Lazar had hoped. He quickly found out that crossing Cobra with his newfound standing with the Val-kyrie did not make for having a long and fruitful life.
The last person seated on the far side of the table was a striking woman with angular features bordering on severe, shoulder-length chestnut hair and wore a dress that likely cost a fortune. Her nails were painted a glossy black, totally uncoordinated for the look she had been going for. Boss Marnia smiled at the bounty hunter she knew by reputation only. Pity that the warmth of the smile never reached her hazel eyes.
Bodyguards for the bosses lounged on the couches. Each group kept a respectful distance from each other while keeping an eye on everyone in the room. Cobra's people stayed back by the bar. The bounty hunter unslung his rifle, handed it back to one of the bodyguards, then he and his sorceress approached the table.
There was one more person seated at the table several chairs away to Nash's left. It was the mystery man they had seen entering the front entrance earlier. Cobra selected the second seat over from the man, pulled it out and sat down. He glanced at the man and hid his shock at seeing General Rongar, commander of the Horde Fifth Fleet.
"So nice to have a civilized invite to a Hood's Convention," Cobra commented, staring straight at Boss Lazar. The cheap shot did not go unnoticed by his second, Dariand.
"No windows in here to shoot through, tough guy," Lazar's second sneered.
Cobra pegged him with an icy smile that did not reach his eyes. "You can't stay in here forever." Shifting his gaze to Lazar, he growled, "I see you still haven't gotten your mutt house broken. He's barking again."
Rongar stifled a snicker of amusement. He had used a facial recognition program on Cobra and his companion back when they had infiltrated the penal planet. The result was a high degree of probability that the woman was either Teela – unlikely because of the girl's fiery temperament – or the Sorceress of Grayskull; a more likely choice.
The man, on the other hand, proved to be more difficult to pin down. Using information stolen by Horde spies before they had been rooted out of Guardian Command, the probability was over seventy percent that the man posing as Cobra was one of the other Guardians. If he were a betting man, Rongar would wager that it was likely Adrian Cobretti. He couldn't explain how he knew that. It just seemed like the correct choice.
Boss Marnia eyed Teelana appreciably. Marnia was in her mid-forties and just starting to show her age. She was aware that some magic-users could maintain their youth for far longer periods, but the costs could be high. This woman appeared ten years younger than Marnia. Her body was toned and athletic, judging by the blue and silver outfit that fit her curves like a second skin. Red streaks in the ends of her black hair were a nice touch. However, when Teelana met the boss's probing gaze, Marnia revised her estimation of the woman's age. Marina saw the eyes of a woman who has lived longer than her outward appearance would indicate. The boss also recognized that this was not a woman to trifle with.
Suppressing a shudder, Boss Marina returned her attention to the meeting.
"So, why are we here?" Cobra asked the bosses. He added to General Rongar, "Slumming? Or branching out into other potential career moves?"
"Just reminding myself how the other half lives," Rongar commented.
Both men turned their attention to their hosts as they called for the meeting to start.
Boss Lazar began. "Three days ago, primary shipping Nexus 321 was attacked and destroyed by an unknown force. All the transports in the system were disabled. Some were destroyed outright. Others were looted for their cargo. The same thing happened to the station. All materials valuable to the enemy was loots. In all cases, no one was left alive."
"Any bodies of the enemy attackers?" Rongar asked. "No one could mount that big of an operation without losing a few people in the process."
Lazar shook his head. "None. They may have taken any bodies with them."
Nash took up the narrative from there. "One of the transport captains was a retired naval officer. He took what scans he could of the system, loaded the data into a marker buoy and dropped it on time delay broadcast. That scan is why we called for this conference."
Nash produced a remote control and touched a button. In response, the dim lights dimmed further while a holoprojector in the ceiling turned on. An image floated in the air over the center of the table. It was not the best quality, considering transports had equipment necessary for navigation, not surveillance. The resolution indicated that the captain must have gotten as close as he dared before taking the scans and whatever sensor readings his ship could make before dropping the buoy.
The image of the attacking vessel, however, was very disturbing.
Cobra leaned closer, staring hard at the image. "Is that -"
"It certainly appears to be," Rongar cut in.
"There was a rumor circulating some years ago that the Horde had a plan to frame the Val-kyrie for attacks by using an older model battlestar," Marina spoke for the first time. Her raspy voice sounded like she was gargling gravel.
Rongar surprised them with the honesty in his reply. "Yes, there was a plan formulated along those lines once hundreds of years ago, but it was quickly abandoned."
"Why?"
Cobra answered for the general. "Because the Val-kyrie had established a reputation for fighting for those who couldn't fight for themselves. So, no one would believe that they would suddenly start attacking people indiscriminately."
Rongar nodded. "Exactly."
"Which is why we asked for a representative from the Val-kyrie government," Lazar pointed out. "As that looks like an older class of ship, it still looks like a battlestar."
Cobra raised his left hand and waved the cloaked figure forward.
Princess Anyssa stepped forward, flipped the cloak back over her shoulders and dropped the hood. Instead of wearing the black top, pants and boots trimmed in silver – the style the Queen Mother established for her lineage – the princess wore the functional, yet ceremonial, uniform with form-fitting armor pieces protecting all vital areas. It was exactly like the uniforms worn by the Val-kyrie military, except that the armor plates were polished to a semi-gloss finish.
"Allow me to introduce Princess Anyssa. Second in line for the Val-kyrie throne."
"Don't you mean third?" Marina corrected him.
"Kiiri was killed while on a mission to Eternia. I finished it," Anyssa answered, tightly. Her audience knew it went without saying that she had avenged her sister's death in true Val-kyrie fashion. That quieted the boss for the moment.
Anyssa removed a data pad from a belt pouch and synced it to the projector feed. She manipulated the image, splitting it into the transport scan on the left and a design schematic for the battlestar on the right. The right side shifted every few seconds as the pad tried its best the match the image on the left to models of the starships used by the Val-kyrie over the past thousand years. After almost a full minute of searching, the pad settled on the diagram of a Mark 5 battlestar.
"Well, it does appear to be a battlestar," Anyssa mused, searching for more details.
Dariand jumped in before the princess could elaborate. "You see? She admits it! Either someone is using the Horde plan," he snarled, turning an acid stare on Anyssa. "Or her people are picking fights with anyone they want."
Anyssa's eyes flashed with anger at the slight against the honor of her people. Before she could answer Dariand's challenge, Cobra beat her to the punch. "You let your dog do the talking for you?" he demanded of Boss Lazar. "I figured you for someone who doesn't need a mouthpiece."
"See how he defends her?" Dariand persisted. "He's on good terms with them now. So, it should be no surprise that he would stick up for them."
While the man raved, Teelana quietly left her post behind Cobra's left shoulder, strode past Rongar and made her move.
Dariand sneered, "Or maybe the Val-kyrie and the Horde are in on it to-" His voice choked off suddenly. Eyes bulging, mouth working but now with no sound coming out, Dariand threw his hands up to his neck and clawed at the invisible force that suddenly cut off his air supply.
Rongar turned his head to the right and raised an inquisitive eyebrow. If this was the Sorceress, as he thought, it was an aggressive move even for her.
Teelana had raised her right arm, thumb and pointer finger miming pinching something. In this case, Dariand's throat. In a deadly calm voice, bereft of any emotion, Teelana said, "I find your lack of courtesy disturbing."
It was a good thing that the disguises for Jon and Apone included shades; otherwise, everyone would have seen their eyes popping at Teelana's action. As it was, anyone looking at them would only have seen impassive masks of indifference. Even Anyssa had to screw her features into an air of indifference while inwardly she applauded the woman choking the annoying turd.
Boss Marina smirked at Lazar. She enjoyed seeing the man torn between ordering Teelana to stand down – an order she would flat ignore – and waving his two soldiers over. The pair had jumped to their feet immediately when Dariand began choking but stopped short of drawing weapons. They would not move without orders from their boss. There was also Cobra's hired bodyguards standing at the bar, hands poised to draw weapons, to consider.
Boss Lazar finally came to a decision. "Calm down, Dariand, or I just might let her choke the life out of you!" he snapped at his second-in-command.
"He gets off leash again, Teelana won't get the chance," Cobra growled venomously. To Teelana he said, "Teelana, release him."
Teelana stared at the wheezing man for a moment or two. Heaving a disappointed sigh, she replied, "As you wish."
Dariand suddenly sucked in a refreshing full breath of air, collapsing to his knees. Lazar waved to the soldiers, who rushed to grab Dariand's arms and dragged him over to a couch. The pair dumped him unceremoniously onto the cushions, then took up station at the front wall within ten feet of their boss.
Teelana returned to her place behind Cobra's left shoulder.
Leaning forward, Lazar apologized to Princess Anyssa. And he actually meant it. "I apologize, princess. Please, continue."
Anyssa considered his words for a moment, decided he was sincere and took the seat immediately to Cobra's left. She consulted the pad again. "As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, that does appear to be a Mark 5 battlestar. My people stopped using them a decade after the Great War ended. All the hulls in possession of my people at that time have been accounted for."
"Records can be forged or altered," Boss Marina pointed out.
"Maybe," Anyssa conceded, "but the freighter captain seems to have had a better class of sensor system than usual. He managed to record enough of the power signature to reveal something interesting. It's vaguely familiar."
Rongar leaned forward, his own data pad out. He connected it to his shuttle and his chief scientist, Sagan. "Sagan, do you have the feed?"
Sagan's voice issued from the device sounding small. "Yes, general. Checking."
While his friend worked, Rongar elaborated on his actions. "I have studied battles and technology from that time. The signature is familiar to me, though the power utilization curve is higher."
"It reminds me of…" Anyssa trailed off, racking her brain for the answer she knew was there but refused to come out.
Sagan answered the question. "It's a Horde signature almost identical to power cores used in the latter years of the war. The general is right, however. The power utilization curve is higher than normal. It has been modified."
"But how did someone get an ancient battlestar?" Nashed posed. "I thought the Val-kyrie and Horde destroyed any warship that could not be salvaged."
"Correct," Anyssa answered.
"Could it be a ship left over from a battle that maybe did not self-destruct? Salvagers are scouring ancient battle sites and outposts for technology. Even if it is outdated by our standards, it's usually better than anything the companies worked for provide. Or can afford," Nash mused.
Cobra said, "A starship abandoned but slated for recovery, but never was?"
The bosses looked at him weirdly.
"What?" he asked, annoyed. He knew the question was out of character. Cobra jerked his left thumb over his shoulder in Teelana's direction. "She's been pestering me to broaden my horizons. We're supposed to learn from the past, not relive it over and over without end."
Rongar's grunt was something akin to grudging agreement. "We gathered here to answer questions, but it seems we are only uncovering more. An ancient warship that apparently wasn't destroyed is retrofitted with a Horde power core and used for an as yet unknown purpose. Powering the ship is why Horde Prime scrapped the program in the past. While we could salvage a ship, the charges designed to turn its core into scrap metal are always reliable. No one who scanned such a ship would ever believe the Val-kyrie would suddenly start using Horde tech."
Anyssa saw another question in that, asked, "So where did they get the Horde tech?"
Another intriguing question. All the tech in the scans was ancient. To salvage, refurbish and install a new power core would take facilities. Personnel. Infrastructure only major governments could afford.
There might be an old installation out there that had been discovered and put back into use. But who could it be? Cobra and Anyssa shared a knowing look. Cobra thought of the red-eyed female he had encountered on the Val-kyrie home world. He could see the princess was thinking the same thing. However, her head shake was barely perceptible. While she agreed there was a new player out there, it evidently did not fit with Red-eye's behavior.
Whoever it was cruising around out there with ancient tech, they were not particular about their targets. The bosses elaborated about a sequence of attacks not only in the shipping lanes, but there were also strikes on neutral governments. Planets who were unaffiliated with anyone also suffered hit-and-run attacks.
Something about the pattern disturbed Cobra and Rongar. Apone and Jon saw it, too, but being bodyguards, they couldn't break character and announce it. As it was, the two men at the table came to the same conclusion.
"These aren't random attacks," Rongar said, looking over the galactic map displayed from the projector. "They're testing tactics and procedures. They're prepping for war."
69