chuckpen

Khalabar Field Force III

2005-07-14T00:12:00.000-04:00

"What have you got left, Conn?" The old Highlander passed his water bottle over, reaching past the two bodies laying between him and his companion.

"I'm down to six rounds, what have you got?"

There was a brief pause.

"I've got seven, I can't believe that you're ahead of me. Well, this next time I'll catch up. Hamish - what have you got?"

"Thirteen, but I wouldn't mind trading a few for some of that water. Can you toss it up to me?"

"Thirteen? What are you getting lazy on us? Here, wait and I'll toss up - there. Take a good drink, they'll be coming again soon. Almost time for morning prayers."

Hamish leaned over the rocky ledge he was perched on, well above his companions. He caught the bottle deftly, rolled over on his back, and drank deep.

"Here -" the bottle landed back next to the private who tossed it up, "I'm no gettin' lazy, I got the bullet box off o' Young Davey's sam browne. He won't be needing it now, poor lad."

"'Ats right, Hamish, 'at's right. But he's in a better place now. But your big stinkin' arse is still here with the rest o' us. And I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Same wi' you, Andrew, same wi' you. You dumb Jock."

"There now, lads, keep it quiet. Old Mullah out there is about to call the - wait - there he goes. Morning prayers. Sun'll be up soon, and they'll be back. Old Davey -"

"Yes Serjent?"

"Ah there you are - be a good corporal and gimme a count o' who's left."

"Yes, Serjent. Well, there's only the five o' us, seeing as Young Davey turned in his mess tin last night. And the Captain, but he's still in a bad way."

Sergeant Lewis looked at the fitful, twisting body of Capt. McCallum, and listened to his mutterings.

"-tell the Queen I did it all - did it all with my two hands for her - please tell her, and when I go, tell her I loved her, and don't give a whit if she's a widow - tell her - tell the Queen - "

"Aye, the Captain is jes a poor, dumb officer now, what got himself shot. But it took three t'bring him down, it did," Remarked Hamish, as he examined his own hand. It had been shot, and although he could still make a rock hard fist, every time he did the blood oozed out from the bandage a little more. "I guess, Serjent, that once we're all gone, he won't last long."

"Now, now, Hamish, we ain't turned in our kit yet - you still got years o' army work ahead of yerself. Yer not getting out of my platoon that easy." The Sergeant spoke with deadpan seriousness, but smiled to himself.

The low laughter all around was only half heartfelt. Then they heard the distant mulazim slowly finish off.

"Well, lads, that's it - Old Mullah is finished, they'll be back soon. Connor, you and Andrew keep together. Hamish - I expect that since you have twice as much ammunition as the rest of us, you'll do your part for Dornoch and make every round count."

"Don't you worry, Serjent Lewis, no man from Dornoch ever did the regiment poorly, and it ain't gonna start with me."

"Good lad. Now, Old Davey - stay with me, and we'll stay with the Captain when the last finally comes." The Sergeant thought for a second that there was no reason to call him Old Davey anymore, since he was the last Davey in the company, but didn't say anything.

It was quiet for a while, and nobody spoke. Then they could hear the drumming, and the distant skitter of rocks meaning that the Ghulzar were climbing up into the rocks after them. The last four times that they came up the rocks cost every other man in the Company his life, and the Captain was apparently soon to breath his last. This would be the last time the Ghulzar would have to come up.

"Here they come, Conn. If you make it, please write a letter to my sister, Mary. Say anything, she'll know what to think. Besides, she'd like to hear from you, I think she's sweet on your dumb fat arse."

"Thanks, Andrew. I'll be sure to do that. Here -" He tossed a necklace over to his friend. "Send that to m'mother if I turn in my tin today, okay? It belonged to my Uncle, and she'd want to get it back. It's a St. Andrew's medallion."

A musket ball fired from a jezzail spattered on the rock in front of Sergeant Lewis. Then another, and then three more.

"Well, lads, here they come, get ready -"

They could hear the cries of "Allah-u Achbar!", and then over the lower ridge, the first sword swinging Pathan tribesmen appeared. He was treated with a rifle round through his throat, compliments of Private Hamish McLish.

But then another came, and another, soon there were a half dozen scrambling towards the makeshift barrier in front of Andrew and Connor. Firing like mad, the Scots dropped them all, and no more came over the ridge. The drumming stopped, though nobody noticed.

"They'll start firing now, lads, so keep your heads down."

And fire they did. Bullets and musket balls, rocks and nails, all fired from a strange mixture of modern rifles and ancient muskets and jezzails. What a way to die, though Andrew, killed by some mad Musselman with a musket stolen from Clive's men.

There was a bark of pain, then a thud on the rocks to the Sergeant's side. Glancing, he saw Old Davey slowly let his rifle slip from his hands.

"Davey, you dog - don't you go too!" The Sergeant, in rage, fired his last bullet at a rock not too far below, and insignificant, but one that he swore he saw the shot the killed Old Davey come from.

Then they heard it - a low gutteral cry coming from above them. It grew and grew.

"Serjent - they got up above us somehow, they're coming down on us too," Hamish was nervously looking around him, peearing back up the mountain, looking for more Ghulzar tribesmen -- waiting for them to come down on him. He pulled his dirk and layed it on the rock in front of him.

"Steady lads, steady. Tis nothing we can do right now - Hamish, you set your back against a rock to keep from getting shot, and keep an eye out above us. Connor, you and Andrew keep up your watch below. How is your ammunition? I fear it's the bayonet for me from here on out." He had already used up the last of Old Davey's rounds, as well as his own.

"We're good, Serjent, we each got three rounds left, and the bayonet don't run dry never!" Said Private Andrew Gordon with a smile.

Then the cries from above grew sharper and sharper.

"They're on us, Serjent Lewis! They're on us!" Hamish had his rifle pointing up and jerking from rock to rock, but didn't know where to aim.

"Wait! Hamish - don't shoot. Listen to what they're saying - listen! Lad's, we're saved!!"

They all strained to hear, above the Afghan rifle fire, and the sound of rock splinters being shaved off by missed shots, to the cries from above. Slowly, smiles spread over every face as they picked out the words.

"Aayo-Gorkhali! Aayo-Gorkhali!"

And then they came - little Nepalese riflemen, all bearing a naked kukri, with slung rifles, and leaping over the rocks like mountain goats! They bounded down the rough face, finding footholds where the Scots swore there weren't any, and just kept going past the Highlanders. One paused a second, looked at Hamish and broke an impossibly huge Smile. "Hello Sergeants, a good day, yes, to fight for the White Queen, yes?"

Hamish couldn't help himself, he just clapped the short man on the side of the leg, and started laughing - roaring with laughter - he couldn't contain it. He had been called a Sergeant! The little Nepalese rifleman quickly nodded, then jumped down the mountainside with his companions.

Sergeant Lewis peered up the side of the mountain, and in the distance, just as the sunlight of the breaking day started to fall down the side of the peaks, he saw a man in a brown uniform, with a riding crop under his arm, slowly walking down the mountainside, accompanied by several Ghurka aides. It was Cox-Roberts. The damn Field Force had come. Sergeant Lewis smiled to himself, but as careful not to let the men see.

"The Ghurkas, Connor, the bloody Ghurkas! Nat must have gotten through to the pass! Damn my eyes, it's the bloody Ghurkas!" He couldn't contain himself, he rose up and shot his last rounds at the fleeing Pathans, careful not to hit any of the Ghurka riflemen in the back.

"S'alright, Andrew, s'alright. Looks like we might make it back to Khutri-Napur after all. But, you know, I think I'm still gonna write that letter to your sister." He smiled.

Khalabar Field Force II

2005-07-14T00:10:00.000-04:00

I was going to write an After Action report about the Indian TSATF game I ran at an Historicon back in 2002, but I never got around to it then.

Luckily, one of the "other ranks" present at the battle, a Private Thomas Burton, wrote a letter to his fiance afterwards, and sent it down to Bombay by way of the HMS Dungbeetle. A copy of that letter appeared in the "London Illustrated News" a few short months later, and here it is, reporduced in full.

My Dearest Hortence,

We saw action today, against the Ghulzar, a wicked band of Afridi high in the mountains of Boruckistan. It was a noble mission, and we rightfully showed the heathen what we were made of! Good, proper-thinking, Christian manliness will overcome pagan badness any day in July. Or June, for that matter. Just like my dear old Nana used to tell me back in Putney.

Anyway, I'm sure you've heard of those Figg sisters? Well, one of them got herself kidnapped by Pinjar Khan. He's that wicked Musselman I was telling you of - the one who has the hidden fortress in the mountains and all. He caught Constance Figg while she were out on one of her missionary rides, distributing Bibles to the native villages. He kidnaps her and brings her back to his Mad Mullah. Old Mullah had something pretty dreadful, probably the worst thing this age, planned for her.

Well, our Major Bagabush was having none of this, so he promptly wires Cox-Roberts on the frontier, and tells him that he'll be up post-haste with a company of us Fusiliers. And what? And old Cox-Roberts had already got himself out on the trail, that's what! And with his Ghurkas and Scotsmen, no less. Lady Dumfries, the Major's missus, then heads out on her riding elephant to deliver the message herself. A right proper English Woman, Lady Dumfries is. And she remembered that Old Hubby had forgotten his flannel pad. He tends to catch a terrible cold on campaign if he don't have his flannel pad, they say, so she took it up with her.

Making double time up the Khutri river, we rode part of the way on the HMS Dungbeetle, and their officer of Marines, none other than Gunny Carstairs, came along with a couple of Gardner guns dismounted from the Dungbeetle. It were turning into a proper Hyde Park parade, what with artillery and everything. Pinjar Khan would regret the day that he ever took Constance Figg captive!

It turns out that Lord Cox-Roberts met up with Lord Baltimore, out on patrol with elements of the Khalabar Field Force - more Ghurkas and some of them fine Sikh fellows. We've got more of the Peerage here in Boruckistan than at a Sunday picnic at Balmoral! Anyway, along comes both of them Lords, so we had two strong columns coming in at the Vishtar valley, where the fortress of Pinjar Khan is hidden.

Major Bagabush recieved intelligence from a Mohmet Hajar, an old PM (our nickname for a Punjabi Musselman) retired from the Bengal Lancers, and always true to his salt, for 50 years now. Turns out that Constance Figg wasn't at the fortress of Pinjar Khan, but rather at the Mosque in the village of Vishtar. Some sepoys were sent with a message to Cox-Roberts and Baltimore, and the two columns converged on the Vishtar. The Denbigh Fusiliers, along with the RMLI under Gunny Carstairs came in from the northwest end of the valley, near the Khutri River, and the mixed column under Majors Cox-Roberts and Baltimore came in from the southeast end of the valley, over the rocky highlands, through goat paths and narrow passes.

That Mad Mullah fellow must have had a pretty neat tea party planned, cause all the clans and tribes for miles and miles around had been summoned to the village, and we had a terrible fight of it! Cox-Roberts and his lads, the Ghurkas and Highlanders got held up at a small fortified villa at the edge of the valley. It were a terrible firestorm, by all accounts, and old Cox-Roberts and Lady Dumfries were both wounded in the rifle exchange. Eventually the Highlanders convinced the tribesmen of the error of their ways, but it took near all afternoon to root the buggers out!

We Fusiliers had a better time of it, under the fire support of the Marines, we entered the Western side of the village, and worked our way around to the Mosque. It was then that the most exasperating thing happened! Our own Lt. Evans led the charge up into the Mosque - facing the Mad Mullah himself. Major Bagabush were bringing up the rest of the Company, but Lt. Evans got there first. He's engaged to be married to Constance Figg, so I figure he had a pretty good reason for wanting to get up there! Well, he pulls his sabre, and facing off the devilish Mad Mullah, he says "Unhand that woman, you lecherous villain!"

Well, it seems that while the old Mullah is a fearsome fellow, much given to his arcane and mystic ways (and it do seem like a good number of odd occurences happened that day, which can be explained in no other terms than "heathen sorcery"), and no doubt a scary boogeyman to children everywhere, he's no match for good Sheffield steel. Looking at Evans once, then twice, he shrieked out to Allah, and flung his body off the tall Mosque! At that point, the rest of the tribesmen disappeared back into the hills, Miss Figg were safe, and something about a supply of Russian rifles was discovered and secured.

Now, Pinjar Khan was never found amongst the dead or dying, nor was the body of Mad Mullah recovered, but all in all it was a good day.

Your Beloved Betrothed,
Pvt. Tommy Burton
Denbigh Fusiliers
Lahore, India

ps- in a happy note, it turns out that both Lord Cox-Roberts and Lady Dumfries survived the battle, albeit in a greviously wounded state. They were packed into Lady Dumfries' elephant, Petunia, and have begun the pilgrimage down out of the mountains to Khutri-Napur, where they will recieve proper medical attention. I hope all is well, but by the time you recieve this letter, I'm sure you'll have read of their safe arrival in the wires from Bombay.

Khalabar Field Force

2005-07-14T00:06:00.000-04:00

The setting of this little story is in the headquarters wing of the British Residency at Khutri-napur.

Khutri-napur, besides being a trading post along the Khutri river, is also the main village guarding the Khalabar pass into Boruckistan - a country full of dangerous hill tribesmen, and crafty Khans waiting to pounce down on India from their mountain fortresses.

The only thing standing between the bloodthirsty warriors of those Mountain Khans, and the peace loving peoples of all India, is the famous Khalabar Field Force, commanded by Lord Cox-Roberts.

Now, onto our story.

It was very, very hot. The sort of hot you only find in Khalabar. The air itself seemed to be melting. A plump, lazy little wallah in a white turban was pulling on a fan, and the room smelled like cheroot smoke.

Lord Cox-Roberts had pushed all of his official paperwork off the side of his desk, into a jumbled pile on the floor, and instead he had a large butterfly pressing board laid out, and was examining his most recently collected specimen, an exceptionally beautiful Common Jezebel. He got so excited, that he often fogged over his magnifying glass with cheroot smoke.

He was fascinated. This was a beautiful specimen, clearly larger and more lovely than that nasty little crumb that LeFoot showed in Paris last year. Cox-Roberts laughed to himself. He'll show that Frenchy! In fact, his absorption with the butterfly was so deep that he didn't hear the two Ghurka riflemen snap to attention outside, as the outer screen door slammed shut.

The office door burst open, and in rushed a very nervous junior officer. He jerked to attention so fast in front of the Major's desk, that the dust on his uniform shot forward and began to sprinkle down on the butterfly mounting board.

"What in the blue blazes do you mean barging into a man's private office," The ample mustache under Cox-Roberts' nose blasted out with every syllable, "you little heathen?"

"Sorry Sir, but I was told to deliver my message to you, immediately, and without delay. Sir." The young officer was hot, dusty, sweaty, and now scared for his life.

"Well? Out with it." Cox-Roberts never looked up from his specimens - he replaced the Jezebel on the mounting board, and was gently blowing dust off some of his others. While grumbling and cursing to himself. Infernal little snot-nosed lieutenant. No respect for elders. Not worth the blacking on his boots.

"Sir, it appears as if our scouting pundits never made it through Boruckistan. We recieved word from Albanipur that Raja Percy never recieved our scouts. We immediately sent out a pair of trustworthy scouting officers to trace their path, and report back on what was found, and it turns out that they have been captured. One of the local hill tribes, the Ghulzar, that our scouts had to pass by had a Russian envoy, and his party, as guests. And they smoked out our scouts as soon as they came to Pinjar Khan's fortress. It seems as if the Russians are making a very large gift of modern rifles to Pinjar Khan and his Ghulzar tribesmen. To make matters worse, it seems a civillian, a Miss Figg, was travelling with the scout and has been captured while trying to distribute Bibles."

"Hmmm, damn fine Jezebel," said Cox-Roberts, "Quite a midsection, too. Will do especially well, mounted."

"Excuse me Sir?" The Lieutenant was puzzled.

"What? Oh, oh, my butterfly." Cox-Roberts glanced up at the young officer with a wince, "How long have you been in India? Don't you know a Jezebel when you see one?"

"Sorry, Sir, I thought you were referring to Miss Figg. She's been captured, along with our scouting natives."

"Right. Well, I suppose we'll have to go rescue them," the Lord pushed back from his desk and bellowed, "Singh! Tommy Singh!"

"Yes, sahib?" A rather young household servant, dressed in a red silk vest and white turban, ran into the room.

"Rouse out my mare, Old Peculiar. Send for the Mem-Sahib, too." Cox-Roberts thought for a moment, while brushing his mustache, then yelled out again, "Captain Price! Captain Price! Oh, there you are. Full packs for the company, 200 rounds each and 4 days of rations. Brown saddle, with full kit, for Old Peculiar, and my regrets about dinner to the Mrs."

"Yes, Sahib." The slapping of bare feet could be heard as the young Sikh ran out of the room.

"Sir! Full packs, 200 rounds, and four days of rations. Very good, Sir." The Captain turned to leave the room.

"Now what was she doing up near Boruckistan, I wonder?" The Major was peering over his mounting board again, while talking absently.

"Sir? The butterfly?" The Lieutenant had not been dismissed, and fumbled with indecision.

"No, not the butterfly! I meant Miss Figg. I knew her, and her sister, while in Africa. Troublesome lot. I hear that one of them married an Officer from the Denbigh Fusiliers."

"Yes, sir. It's the other one." The young officer tried to be helpful.

"Why yes, of course. That one's dead." Cox-Roberts slowly weaved his head back and forth with sarcasm as he looked up.

"Sir? I don't mean disrespect, but I believe she's getting married, not dead."

"What? Of course she's not getting married! She's bloody well dead! In my killing jar! And she's a Jezebel! What in blue blazes are you talking about?"

"The other Figg." The Lieutenant swallowed hard, he was barely holding on here.

"What, er, oh yes. A lot of bottom, don't you think? Though a bit flighty. Still, not a bad pair."

"I wouldn't know, sir, not being an expert on them insects, as you are." The Lieutenant almost smiled thinking he had finally kept up with the old man.

"No, I meant the Figgs, confound it! Where's my horse? Is the company ready? What are you still standing there for, Lieutenant? I assume you know the way to this Pinjar Khan's fortress? Then come along. Singh! There's a sharp lad. Bring around Old Peculiar, and the Mem-sahib too. You'll like her, Lieutenant, and Lady Dumfries, my wife. Just don't mention those two pretties to her."

"The Figgs, sir? I never..." The Lieutenant looked very puzzled.

"No not the Figgs - the Jezebels! The Mrs. would never understand if I were to let on that I'd been chasing around these hills looking for Jezebels. No, not one bit. Captain Price! Good man, we'll leave within the hour. Now step along, all of you."

Nathaniel Dithers in the Sudan

2005-07-13T23:50:00.000-04:00

A little story . . . Nathaniel Dithers is a new character to be used in some Sudan games - he is a Methodist Missionary, but also a man of action (he's run a Boy's school, where he taught boxing and took the lads on frontier trips in Canada). He is married to a reformed dance-hall girl named Fanny - who is 23 years younger than him.

Also introduced is the leader of a band of Bashi Bazouks - Kemal Marzuq.

It's not as if Nathaniel Dithers always wanted to die a martyr's death in the desert, but this is where a lifetime of service had brought him.

After seminary school, Nathaniel spent 12 years as a director of a Boy's school in Toronto - mostly instructing the little ruffians in the arts of self defense. While his boxing, hunting, shooting, and Latin improved, he was bored.

Seeking high adventure, he requested reassignment from the church - and was sent to St. John's, in Newfoundland. There to set up and established the Methodist church at Cochrane Street.

While in St. John's, he met Fanny Belcher, a pretty dance hall girl down on her luck. She had sprained her ankle, and couldn't dance for her wages. Nathaniel had pity on her, and wed her, even though she was more than 20 years his junior.

Still, he sought more excitement, so he applied and applied for missionary work - finally (and quite by accident, too), Nathaniel was sent to the Sudan, to Bokhala.

Nathaniel Dithers is quite fluent in French, and is experienced with boy's schools, so he was to be sent to Brevilly, in the Sedan area of France - to oversee the running of a Methodist finishing school. But some clerk got Brevilly, Sedan mixed up with Bokhala, Sudan -- and here he is. Doesn't speak a word of Arabic, or any other language used within 100 miles, but still Nathaniel is determined to succeed.

So on the spot we find our man, in the Sudan, managing a Missionary school for the native children, as well as the various sons and daughters of the Europeans in the area.

And now the school is about to be overrun by bloodthirsty savages.

"It's a good thing", though Dithers to himself, "A golly-darn good thing I brought my Winchester 1866 with me. Helped me bag three Bison last time I took the Toronto lads on a buffalo hunt out west - should be good enough to shot some of these desert savages!"

Fanny had armed herself too. Her old pepperbox was still with her, as well as a bottle of gin. "Nathaniel is a good man, a kind man - and still quite well up to vigorous husbandly duties at his age," she thought, "But damn it all if I'm going to die here in the desert!" She took a long draw off the bottle, then hid it under her skirt, lest her husband see her.

The children were all hidden inside the church, and Dithers and his wife had piled up a bunch of boxes outside. They had a platoon of Egyptian soldiers with them, led by Corporal Nafiki. Those same soldiers had abandoned their railroad outpost a few weeks before, when the tribesmen were first threatening them. They abandoned the outpost, and came to Nathaniel for guidance and protection.

Arrayed against these few defenders of the lonely mission station were the screaming fanatical devotees to the local desert madman, Ras Al Mufti. A fervent holy man, practicing his own peculiar blend of Mohamedism and ritual mumbo-jumbo, he had stirred up some of the local tribesmen into a fervor - determined to destroy the Christian missionaries, and all who had converted. Word of a Messiah, the Mahdi, had reached these men - but they only had ears for Ras Al Mufti - the mad mullah of Bokhala.

The only hope that Dithers and his stalwart, but woefully outnumbered, band of defenders had was in a strange mix of wandering brigands and bandits that sometimes came to the mission to trade. These horsemen, self-styled Bashi Bazouks, wore Turkish style clothes, rode Arabian stallions, carried British rifles, and would work for anyone if the price were right. Nathaniel Dithers felt sure he had struck a chord of respect and friendship with their leader. But would they come to aid the defenders of the Christian church? And if they did come, would they fight for Dithers, for Al Mufti, or for none but themselves?

It wouldn't do any good appealing to Governor Gordon for aid, he had his own problems in Khartoum. The Mahdi had besieged the city, and who knows how long before the long promised rescue column would reach? No, Nathaniel Dithers, and his flock, were on their own.

Natunni, the servant girl, had just brought around a pot of tea to the defenders on the makeshift wall, when the first pink of dawn began to color the distant horizon. The hot cup felt good, and reassuring. Another night - another long night they had made it through, and Al Mufti's madness hadn't caused the warriors to attack. Perhaps they would just calm down and leave?

Slowly the sky brightened, and out past the lazy, shallow stream next to the mission, Dithers could see the tribesmen had come to within a couple hundred yards of the outpost. Nafiki saw them too, and he pointed. "Look, Dithers-pasha - they come. Soon morning prayers will be finished, and they will come down on us with spear and sword!"

"Have heart, Nafiki my friend. They haven't come yet...not yet." He checked his Winchester, and the boxes of ammunition he had stashed here at his place on the wall. He looked down the line to see that the fellahin had gotten their Remingtons ready in a similar manner.

"Fanny, love- Fanny, can you come here please?"

There was a ripple of spear points out on the highland, as the tribesmen began to rise from their morning prayers.

"Fanny dear - could you please get the children to sing the Hymn of Joy - it does so cheer us all up, and I think it would get the whole Mission in a great spirit this morning. Nafiki - I've been teaching it to some of your fellows, and if you wouldn't mind they could join in. The Hymn of Joy always does well with a strong bass section."

"Why Nathaniel, yes of course. That would be an excellent idea." She shuffled off to the Vestry - making sure she felt her gin bottle was safe and handy.

Out across the way, the lone figure of Ras Al Mufti could be seen rising up on a berm, directing the faithful. They began descending out of the hilly area - first slowly, then with gathering speed. Soon, the bands of spearmen could be seen running at full speed across open ground towards the river.

The singing from the Church started out, as if in response to, and trying to dampen the crescendo of tribal charge.

Sing with all the Sons of Glory, sing the resurrection song!
Death and sorrow, earth’s dark story, to the former days belong.
All around the clouds are breaking, soon the storms of time shall cease;
In God’s likeness we, awaking, know the everlasting peace.

The first Arabs made it to the edge of the river, and began splashing across the shallows, when a blast of gunfire off on the right called them up short. In an instant, the charging fanatics stopped, looked stupidly at the sight charging down on them, and turned to head back to the hills.

Out of the scrub - a failed attempt at an olive grove - came riding the band of Bashi Bazouks - firing into the Arabs and yelling their Turkish war cries at the top of their lungs! They were magnificent fellows, dressed in the brightest red and blue silks, wearing turbans and fezzes, and firing into the arabs from horseback with deadly accuracy.

Soon the Arabs had fled for the safety of the hills, and the Turkish horsemen had ridden into the confines of the Mission Station.

The big smiling Turk, Kemal Marzuq, came up to Nathaniel and slapped him on the shoulder.

"Truly, my friend, you are Beloved of God! You stand here like brave flies, ready to sting the mighty elephant that rides down on you. You and your help - ", he glanced contemptuously at the Egyptians.

"Still, you bravely faced the Arabs, and would have died facing them. All while your children sang praises to God! You are a wonder to behold, friend Dithers!"

Nathaniel couldn't help but smile.

"I would thank you, now, if you could spare some food for my men. We have ridden hard for six days to reach you. There is a storm coming, and we wanted to tell you. And, it is true, you also have the fattest sheep! Along the way we raided a Arab caravan, and also two slaver camps. The men have some plunder with them, and seek time to enjoy it."

Nathaniel only now noticed the women, Sudanese and others, being lowered down off of some of the horses.

"Kemal, Kemal - you know that my house is your house. You are welcome to rest here, and also kissra bread and miris will be ready within the hour. I must ask, however, that your men do not avail themselves of the ladies, which, um, well . . ."

"Ha ha! Dithers thinks we are going to have our way? Like Arab dogs? Nay - each of my men shall marry - today in fact - before he beds his prize. None of them have more than 1 or 2 wives already, so it is permitted. Still, come and tell me more about this miris, and I shall tell you of a wretched storm that comes to crash on your house."

"Storm, what storm? The miris is already cooking, we slaughtered several sheep last night, and it was to be for a feast today, but you are welcome to it. Now tell me of the storm."

"Well, you already have the dogs of Al Mufti across the stream wanting to cut your throats - that is bad enough, but perhaps a man might be allowed to survive such an ordeal. What I tell you of is a tribulation that the Prophets of old would have a hard time living with. The Mahdi - you have heard of Mahdi I believe? Yes - good. The Mahdi has many men - too many to count - coming this way. They seek to gather power by conquering all in the Sudan. Mahdi wants to conquer first all the Sudan, then go on to cleanse Egypt, and then finally all of Turkey. His goal is to make the Faithful more Faithful. Or that is what his followers claim. I think he is a conquering dog, who has been ignored too long. Now he is out of control. But his followers are coming this way - they want your head. And that of your Wife, and all those of your church here."

Nathaniel stared, not believing what he was hearing. First Al Mufti, now the Mahdi? Was this a test from Heaven?

"But fear not - Dithers. For your friends the English are coming to rescue you. They have sent soldiers, soldiers riding camels, led by a man called Baltimore. These men cannot ride so well, and go slow, but it is said that they can shoot with the eyes of eagles, and fight with the strength of lions. They come to help you."

"Good", thought Dithers, "the Camel Corps. They must have sent a detachment out from Gordon's relief column. That will be a blessing."

"And, friend Dithers, that is not all. When you came to Bokhala, did you not think it strange that there was not a village already here? A fresh stream coming from the rocks, a lovely oasis, green plants, everything a village longs for here in the southern Sudan. But there is nothing. Only the rocky rise across the stream. Do you know why, friend Dithers? No, you do not. Ha ha ha ha! And that is good, for it would keep you awake at night."

"Tell me Kemal. What do you know about the oasis?"

The Turk, suddenly, grew very grave and stared at his friend.

"It it because, friend Dithers, there was once an ancient city here. A city for a great king of old - older than Mohammed, Jesus, and all the prophets - a great king of the old Egyptians. But this king was living here in exhile - for he had done a wicked thing. And for that wicked thing, a curse was placed on him that he should never die, but live forever in torment. Five years ago, a meddling frenchman dug up the tomb of this king, and he walked the earth. It took many men to put him down, but still he did not die. It is because of this that Al Mufti seeks to kill you. He wants no man living in or near the site of this ancient curse."

Nathaniel looked serious for a minute, then a smile broke across his face.

"Kemal - my good man. Surely you can't be serious? An ancient curse? A wicked king who can't die? The Mahdi, with an army -- that I can believe. It makes me weak in the knees, but I can believe it. English soldiers on Camels - strange, but I can believe that too. But a story about an ancient king, and a curse - no, Kemal. You have been in the sun too long. Come let us see if that miris is ready to eat."

In the distance, the church boomed to life again, with another verse of the Hymn of Joy...

Life eternal! heaven rejoices; Jesus lives, Who once was dead.
Join we now the deathless voices; child of God, lift up your head!
Patriarchs from the distant ages, saints all longing for their heaven,
Prophets, psalmists, seers, and sages, all await the glory given.

Kyle, part 8

2005-06-30T00:14:00.000-04:00

The group of them looked resplendent in their Imperial blue uniforms that Sekula had managed to put together. The new security cards that Culp had imprinted were perfect, too. It was a wonderful stroke of teamwork, and they were deep inside the Imperial Palace.

Krigbaum and DeAlteriis were posing as guardsmen, carrying ceremonial laser lances, at the front of the party. They wore long blue jackets, with white tights, high black boots, and golden helmets. They had crimson sashes showing their position as honor guards, and these ended in holsters containing laser pistols.

Culp, Heeswyck, Sekula and Hollingsworth were dressed as senior officers, bringing up the rear of the group. They looked very regal in their highly decorated uniforms. These were identical to the honor guard uniforms that Krigbaum and DeAlteriis wore, except that the officer's helmets were trimmed with a mane of black fur. The officers didn't carry lances.

In the center, in the place of honor, was Mitchell, playing the role of visiting diplomat. She was the spitting image of the VIP accompanying the honor guard, and she was dressed in civilian clothes peculiar to the world of Narfoss - where they were all supposed to be from. Her outfit was a fiery red, filmy dress, with bright orange fur trim. It was incredibly tight, and hid nothing of her figure. The engineer, much more comfortable in worker's dungarees, hated it.

Celena also walked along in the center of the visiting party, a few steps behind Mitchell, as a lady-in-waiting. She wore a light, thin outfit of white gauzy material, and a veil over her face.

"Alright, this is where we split up." Hollingsworth stopped in the center of the abandoned corridor, at a vast intersection of hallways. The group stopped with him, and grouped around.

"Sekula, you and Krigbaum head down that way to the security cells. According to Celena, he's in cell 27b. The rest of you come with me. We're going to pay Barnette a visit in the high chamber. All of you, get your pistols ready, this could get ugly. Most palace revolutions are."

They broke up, and went their separate ways. All of them were grim and set hard for the task ahead, but Sekula especially was anxious.

*****

Barnette was sitting on the Imperial throne, surrounded by his sycophants. On the floor in front of him, the tiny robot, covered with hologram projectors, was doing a dance. The group laughed, not noticing the vast double doors open.

"Who the hell are you?" Barnette barked out, when he noticed the group in blue coming in the throne chamber. "Don't you know this is the Imperial Throne room?"

"I know what this is, you filthy sonofabitch." Hollingsworth was walking across the room, straight towards Barnette. "Do you know what the Emperor normally does with swine like you that defile his throne?"

"I'll have you arrested, and you'll never see the light of day again. Guards, get in here." He pleasantly drank the rest of his drink and then placed the goblet down on a hover tray. "Wait a second, I recognize you. You're Abusheega Haut Hollingsworth. I thought your family was disgraced," Barnette was looking over his shoulder at his cronies, "When all the noble families were declared outside of Imperial favor?"

"We were disgraced, you filthy bastard. My family, and dozens of others that faithfully served the Empire for centuries. Billions of Imperial citizens died because the social structure was destroyed. Whole worlds were disfigured and wasted. Entire sectors were plunged into economic ruin. All for your personal pleasure. But that's all over now." And after they had entered the chamber, but before the guards reached Barnette's side, Hollingsworth raised up his laser pistol, and burned a clean hole through the head of the traitor.

"Shit!" Krigbaum jumped for a table, taking snap shots with his laser lance, and he was followed by the rest. Mitchell had thought to push the heavy table over, and they were using it as a barricade. The palace guards, seeing Barnette laying dead on the floor, immediately began firing at the group behind the table.

The robot, only 30 centimeters tall, was evidently keyed to Barnette's voice, because it just bobbled around in a circle on the floor. Until Culp shot it's head off with her laser pistol. 'So much for E-Kyle', she thought.

The rest of them were trading shots with the palace guards, and it was largely a stalemate.

Then, all of a sudden, the giant irridium sphere, symbol of Imperial might, that hovered in the center of the chamber, over the Imperial Throne, began to move. It floated over the group of palace guards, and then came crashing down. It must have weighed fifty tons, if it weighed a gram, and the whole palace shuddered. The guards were no more.

Celena collapsed after the sphere dropped, and they realized that she had moved it with her mind.

*****

Something was happening. He felt the floor shake, and knew that the entire palace must have been upset by something vast.

The past few days had been very strange, and very different from the previous stretch of time he had been in the prison. He had been a ward of the trecherous Barnette for some time now, ever since he and his hologram robot had taken over the empire.

The strange part was that he could feel his mind being contacted. He was no psi-talent himself, yet still, the training he had received as a youth let him know when his mind was being probed, or sensed. And today, of all days, it was stronger than ever.

The small set of chambers that were his prison 'cell' were quite comfortable, but for the fact that he was all alone. He had plenty to eat, and to do - video, music, library data - but absolutely no human companionship. They hadn't even given him a valet robot for company. And no access to current news media. That's okay, he thought, it probably would have made matters more miserable.

Miserable, yes, but he could have taken it all. Except for his seperation from Sekula. That was the pain, the part that hurt. And the fact that he knew, somehow, that whatever Barnette was doing with the Empire, it wasn't for the benefit of his, Kyle the First's Imperial subjects.

And now...what? What was going on? There was something big happening, if it could shake the entire Imperial Palace. What the hell was it?

And, if in answer to his questions, the security door to his front chamber was suddenly opened from the outside world. He rushed out to see what was going on, for even Barnette would have let him know - even if it was to just gloat.

And there, in his prison, was standing Sekula. Kyle ran to her, and grabbed her up, and kissed her without saying a word.

Behind the two of them, DeAlteriis just stood there, smiling.

*****

end

Kyle, part 7

2005-06-30T00:12:00.000-04:00

As the Cetacea was hovering inside the atmospheric lock, Krigbaum was helping Heeswyck drag bodies of the former crew members back to the engineering deck.

'This kid doesn't mess around', thought Krigbaum, as he saw the broken neck on the fourth crew member that they had dragged back.

"Hey, Heeswyck. Captain Hollingsworth says you are pretty good in a fight, and now I've seen you work your magic twice. Why the hell are you just a Steward? You could have gotten a job in the Imperial Security forces, or for a corporation, or just about anything."

Heeswyck was wiping blood off his hands with a borrowed deck rag from the engineer he just dumped in the engine room. "Well, you see, my family is closely tied to the Hollingsworth family. My father, and his father, were both Seneschal's to the Hollingsworth family estate. I, as a younger son, was trained to be the personal bodyguard for family members. Then when the new Imperial decrees eliminating Noble holdings wiped out the Hollingsworth legacy, I was out of a job. So I took a position as a steward on the first ship that Captain Hollingsworth himself was in charge of. That was when he was running the King Richard, before he joined the Rebellion."

"You guys were on the King Richard? Shit! I've always wanted to take a vacation on that tub!"

"Uh, yes. You see, the Hollingsworth family owns controlling interest in the parent company. . .anyway, when this is all over, I'm sure you could travel on her for a while. But anyway, that's how I got the job as a Steward. And it turned out, I really liked to cook. Still do."

"Wait a second - you can get me a gig on the King Richard? Damn! How do you get a position as a pyramid dealer in one of their casinos?"

"You want to be a card dealer? On a starliner? I think we could arrange that. I'll have to talk to Hollingsworth, but I don't see a problem. Wouldn't you rather be the pit-boss?"

"What?!? Just like that - you can make me the pit-boss on a ritzy tub like the King Richard?" Krigbaum couldn't believe his ears - it was his dream. Wearing a formal suit every night, watching over the high stakes pyramid games, rubbing elbows with beautiful super models. Ahhhhh.

"Not me, but I'm sure the Captain could." Heeswyck, having cleaned his hands, was rummaging through the weapons locker in the hallway. "He told me he's very impressed with the work the entire crew is doing, and after his family fortune is restored, he wants to reward everyone. When I tell him how you took care of that security robot back there in North Raven, I'm sure he'll be impressed. That one damn robot could have murphy'd the entire mission."

"Wow." Krigbaum was still thinking about the super models, when the intercom broke into his dream.

"Hey back there, this is Captain DeAlteriis. We should be rendezvousing with the Rani of Lahore in about 40 minutes. Heeswyck you might want to get something ready to eat, I'm kind of hungry. And Krigbaum, get on the transponder and let the Rani know that we are coming in. You can let them know that our boys on the planet are in good hands. It seems that the Aslan bond-family down there thinks a lot of our Danny, and they want him to take over as senior male of the operation. They're working out the diplomatic details now with the Corax government, but I think our guys will be just fine, from the radio traffic I've been listening too. DeAlteriis out."

'A new tuxedo every night. Beautiful broads. High roller pyramid players. Champagne and caviar. Damn. Mister Krigbaum, that'd be me.'

"Heeswyck, don't you forget what we talked about. I'm serious. You tell Hollingsworth that I'm his man, make no mistake."

Heeswyck smiled at his friend. "Sure I will. But first we have to rescue Kyle and save the Imperium."

"Not a problem." Krigbaum had gotten the transponder ready to go, "Not if it means me being pit-boss on the King Richard." He adjusted the dials on the transponder and began his call to the other ship.

Krigbaum didn't see the smile on the young officer's face, as Heeswyck realized he had created a monster.

*****

"Culp, you have worked your mastery once again. I can't believe that you made it work, but the ship's telemetrics are working like a fine clock. As far as the Imperials are concerned, we are just plain old plankton freighter Cetacea, bringing in a load of yummy sea bugs for Capitol."

Hollingsworth was talking over the intercom to their security specialist, but he was standing on the bridge looking out the view port at a most impressive sight.

The surface of the Imperium's home world was ahead, and it loomed large in the view. However, the entire surface of the planet was covered in structures. There wasn't a patch of ocean, or open land anywhere to be seen. Long ago, the clouds stopped forming, and the exhaust haze had been cleaned up.

The Cetacea was being directed by an automated beacon towards the docking bay she normally moored at. It was all so simple. They had made the journey from Corax to Capitol in record time, barely stopping to refuel between jumps.

The system of Capitol was incredibly busy. There were thousands and thousands of ships everywhere. Most were neatly following the navigational beacons that had been set for them, but a few strayed here and there. Among this vast armada of freighters and couriers doing busy with the heart of the imperium, there were also a couple dozen patrol cruisers - keeping an eye on things, and making sure there were no problems.

The other worlds in the star system were equally busy, and nearly as covered with structures and bases. There was a LOT of activity in this system, and rightfully so. The Imperial Science Academy was here, as were the headquarters stations of all the branches of the Bureaucracy and the Military. Not to mention the Imperial Moot, as well as the normal administrative heads of all the aspects of such a huge and galaxy spanning empire as this one had become.

And the Cetacea, painted like some oceanic leviathan, was slowly, slowly being drawn into this packed well of humanity.

Celena was standing on the bridge, with Hollingsworth. She just stared off into space, not really concerned with what was on the view panels or in the ports.

"I have him. And his location." She spoke without moving.

"What? Kyle? You know where he is?" Hollingsworth broke out of his trance, and turned to look at her.

"Yes. He is here. In the Imperial Palace. And Barnette is with him."

The longer that he talked to her, the more like Celena her voice became. It lost some of the edginess that it had when she had first come on board, and now it was almost like talking with Celena herself. Granted, a very distracted distant Celena, but the voice was there.

"Barnette. That ass hole has a lot to pay for. Okay. I'll get us down, with the help from the ID broadcaster that Culp fixed up for us, and then we'll go in and have a look around this Imperial Palace."

She looked at him, for a second when he mentioned Barnette with such acidity, but turned away quickly. He wondered how much of her was still Rish, and how much was the real Celena. No matter, once this was all over, and Sekula is satisfied with the return of Kyle, then the Rish would depart Celena for the crystal, and she'd be returned to him--to Hollingsworth.

*****

"Sekula, what have you got for me?"

She looked up from her portable computer at him, and smiled.

"I have a lot, Sir, thanks to Culp here. She got me hacked into the local security network, and I've been intercepting broadcasts for the past half hour. It turns out that Kyle is in one of the security cells of the Imperial Palace, and also that the Robot is there on the palace as well."

There was a hologram of the palace in the center of the table, above the standard hologram projector. It was the normal blue-ish color of a hologram, but it showed the perfectly spherical Imperial palace - suspended by anti-grav over a decorative lake. The surrounding area was an pristinely manicured park, a real treasure on Capitol - one of the few places where natural vegetable matter grew on the busy, busy center of the imperium.

"Alright, so how are we going to get in?" Hollingsworth sat down across from the two women, and looked at them each in turn. They both smiled at him.

"We've already got it figured out." Sekula was saying, "There appears to be some sort of an honor guard from one of the outlying subsectors coming for review today. We can manage to make mimic uniforms and beat them to the palace, and with forged id cards, we should be able to get in."

Culp took over at that point, "It would take the Imperials about an hour or two before they realized they let the wrong party inside. We should be home free by then."

"An honor guard, huh? Alright, but I want everyone to go, even Celena. This could be important."

"Right. We'll get to work immediately. I'll see to the uniforms and small arms, and AJ here can get the ID cards ready."

"Good. And by the way, good work. The two of you have made the continuation of this mission possible, with the help from our alien friend inside of Celena's head. Don't think all of this will go unrewarded when we're all through."

Together they said, "Yes Sir."

Conclusion

Kyle, part 6

2005-06-30T00:10:00.000-04:00

"I guess you're pretty relieved to hear about Kyle, huh?" AJ Culp looked up from the table she was working at. She had a series of forged security cards in front of her that she was putting the finishing touches on. Members of the crew were going to have to pose as plankton farmers when they got to the planet of Corax.

"Of course I am. Who wouldn't be? Now if we can only find him in time. Do you think the Captain's plan will work?" Sekula was nominally helping Culp with the security cards, but mostly she was just here for the company.

"I trust him. He's brought us safely this far. If this plan works, and we can get on board a food freighter that is headed for the capitol world, then we should have a fighting chance at finding Kyle. Your Kyle, I mean. And maybe, just maybe, then we'll be able to bring down Barnett and his gang of thugs." She finished sealing the chip into the last security card, and laid it out with the rest. After she shut off her tools, she turned to face Sekula. The eyes of the intel officer were tired.

"AJ - what do you think of Celena? Or, rather, whatever it is that is inside her head with her? Hollingsworth claims she's safe, but I don't know."

"Well, as soon as we get to the capitol world, and figure out where they are holding Kyle, I thought the plan was to return the alien inside her head to a crystal. Isn't that what we were told?"

"Of course, that's the plan, but still what do you think about it. The alien."

"I dunno. I just know that it will be good to get all this stuff done and out of the way. I think that if we come out of this in one piece, I'm going to settle down somewhere, get a nice job with a cushy corporation and raise a family."

"That sounds nice," Sekula paused for a moment, before continuing, "But do you think that you'll ever be able to retire? You've done some pretty amazing stuff, and if the rebellion works, and overthrows Barnette, then there will be an all new government. And, that new government will be completely aware of who you are, what you can do, and where you've been. With your past, that's not necessarily a great thing."

"Damn, girl. Do you think that I'd be stupid enough to use my real identity? I haven't been using my actual name or anything since I signed on with this outfit. Not even Turnitsa knows my real name, or what world I'm from. I plan to tell him, but only once we're 'retired'."

They both laughed, but it was interrupted by Deyo's voice on the comm panel.

"Captain Hollingsworth wants to see the entire crew in the board room in 15 minutes. Heeswyck has just informed that lunch will be served."

*****

Considering the croquettes were made from soylent chicken, they were surprisingly good. And the wine was delicious as well. Danny was provided with a bottle of chilled Yarwa'athrea, and he was actually smiling. Hollingsworth couldn't help but notice that they were all staring at Celena. In some cases, they were trying to appear is if they weren't but that was even more obvious. Krigbaum was the worst. He didn't even try to hide it. As soon as the majority of the meal was finished, the Captain stood and began addressing the gathered crew.

"By a strange quirk of fate, we now have the good fortune of being back on course. We have a repaired ship, enough fuel to reach a colonized world, and information that will allow us to continue our mission." He drained his glass and returned it to the table where he had been sitting.

"Celena, along with the alien presence that is sharing her body, is aware of the situation in the Empire. And, as I'm sure you have all heard on the grapevine, the original Kyle is still alive. The one that has been running the empire is a robot that projects a hologram of Kyle. We have good reason to believe that this is a plot by Kyle's bodyguard, Barnette. Once we come out of jump space, Celena's awareness of things will allow her to tell us more."

Major Burnes stood from his chair, and stood stiffly.

"Captain Hollingsworth. I understand that you have need for some of my men once we reach Corax. Can you speak a little more about that here, so all involved are brought up to speed on the plan at hand?"

"Excellent suggestion, Major. I believe that our best chances of getting to the capital world are to change vessels. I propose that we abandon the Rani of Lahore once we get to Corax. After all, it's now been weeks since we first acquired her, and the word must be out. They'd be looking for a robotic ore freighter that matches her description. So we will make due with other means of transportation." He began pacing up and down the length of the board table.

"Major Burnes and a team of his men will, with the assistance of some security tags that have been 'fixed' by Culp, gain entry to the main loading facility of the plankton processing center in North Raven. North Raven is the capital city of Corax, and is a busy city that deals with the processing, packing, and shipping of plankton. A lot of the processed plankton goes to the Capital world to be used as food by the Imperial Buearacracy. Once Major Burnes secures access to the facility, he and his men will remove the crew of one of those food shipping vessels."

"With the captured vessel, DeAlteriss will pilot it out to the planetoid belt in the system, where the rest of us will transfer over. The plankton tanker should be freshly fueled up, and we will then jump on to the capital world. Any questions? No? Good. Heeswyck, I'll turn this over to you."

"Thank you, sir." The young officer stood, somewhat embarassed, and addressed his shipmates.

"In honor of the sacrifice made by so many, and also in anticipation of victory to come, I have prepared something special. TAU, you can come out now."

The little robot hovered into the room. On top of it's metallic body, there sat a white chef's hat. And it was pushing an anti-grav waiters tray, with a huge multi-layered cake on it. There were sparklers lit on the cake.

"STAND AT ATTENTION YOU SOFTBODIED MAGGOTS! DON'T YOU WORTHLESS CIVILIANS KNOW WHEN IT IS THE BIRTHDAY OF YOUR COMMANDER AT LARGE? JOIN ME NOW AS I SING THE IMPERIAL MARINE VERSION OF THE BIRTHDAY SONG. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU-OU-OU HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU. DON'T KILL THEM TOO FAST, DON'T KILL THEM TOO FAST, DON'T KILL THEM TOO FAST-AST-AST, OR YOU'LL RUN OUT TOO SOON!"

As soon as the robotic unit came over and settled the cake down on the table in front of Captain Hollingsworth, Heeswyck mercifully shut down TAU's power switch.

*****

The forward team was standing a one hell of a huge cave. It was maybe a dozen kilometers long, and maybe 300 meter high. Vast. There were whole buildings inside here, housing an entire production city.

When the robotic miners hollowed out this city, North Raven, they left vast columns every couple of hundred meters, in regular rows down the long length of the column. Since that time, the different competing corporations built columnar buildings around those vasty stony structures. Each one was a different color scheme, reflecting it's owning corporation, and smeared with advertising logos on the side.

The center of the cavernous city was open, and there were various slidewalks traversing the length, as well as a number of large landing pads in the portion the team was standing in. Parked on one of the landing pads was a bulbous freighter, maybe 200 ton berthen, and it was painted a pale shade of blue. The upper half was darker, and under the portholes of the bridge, there was printed in clear galanglic the name of the ship - "Cetacea".

"There's our ship, boys." Major Burnes was smiling.

"You want me to fly that?" DeAlteriis was wincing.

"It's a Faareoewou - a great fat thing from the oceans of my home world. Tasty, too." Danny licked his fangs.

"Where are the white women?" Krigbaum was looking anywhere but at the ship.

"Look at all that plankton. I have a great Miso soup recipe..." Heeswyck calculated.

"Damn thing has no weapons, what are we gonna do with no weapons?" Johanson scowled.

"Alright lads, we didn't come here to be tourists. Grab your bags and lets move out. And remember - we're all plankton farmers. Danny, pull that hat down a little lower."

The group moved off towards a compound near the Catecea's platform. They needed to 'liberate' the ship's papers and security documents. It would have been easier to bring Culp down, but she was wanted on this world for hacking robotic bank tellers. Except for Danny, their worker's overalls looked convincing, and the hope was that with an Aslan company on this world, they would be able to sneak him past any suspicion. It was working so far.

*****

From high in the corporate tower of Golden Claw Shipping, Senior Administrator Lareaneow looked down at the group of workers heading to the port authority building. In her own language, the bond-family company was called Feurrow Aeleereow, but here among the humans that was difficult to get recognition with. Humans. Herrowl. She missed her own kind.

Funny, she thought, that big one in the rear is a male from Kuzu. There are no males on Corax. Her bond-family thought it would be best to deal with the Terrans that way--with no males around. She did what was best for the bond-family, always had. But sometimes it was hard.

She knew she ought to call the port authority right away, to report the unknown Aslan; however there was time for that later. She had been alone for 15 months, and she liked the way the large male moved. Her tail flicked.

*****

"Follow the blue line, follow the blue line. Sure. Damn robot." Krigbaum was walking through the crowded corridor, lugging the canvas ditty bag over his shoulder. It contained his flamer, a couple of tools, and a portable computer. Between it, and trying to follow the spider's web of multi-colored lines on the floors of the port authority, he was getting frustrated.

"Krigbaum, it'll be alright. Culp's security badges are working like champs." Heeswyck was trying to cheer him up, and he was right. So far, every checkpoint replied to the security badges perfectly.

If the wall map was correct, they should only be another hallway or two away from the portmaster's office. They had come in, alone, to get the documents for the freighter Cetacea.

Heeswyck flashed his badge in front of a reader, and the panel slid open. Krigbaum and he were about to walk through, when ahead, in the hallway, were an even dozen security guards.

Unlike the wrinkled overalls of the plankton farmers, these were wearing sleek skin suits, and had plasteel armor plates on their chests and shoulders. They all carried laser carbines, with stun bayonets on the front, and had pistols and flash grenades on their belts.

Before the two off-worlders blew their cool, Krigbaum realized that these guys were just getting off duty, and were waiting around for their shift officer to debrief them. He breathed a silent sigh of release, and put his hand on Heeswyck's shoulder.

"One side boys, we've got to report to the portmaster. Lad," Giving Heeswyck a gentle nudge, "Lead the way."

As they walked through the door, everything was fine.

Until they got all the way through, then suddenly there was a red flashing light that descended from the ceiling, and buzzers and klaxons were going off.

"INTRUDER ALERT! INTRUDER ALERT! UNAUTHORIZED WEAPONS IN SECURE AREA!"

Krigbaum looked at the surprised security guards, and as soon as the first one of them got the twinkle of understanding, Krigbaum barked out "Oh, No!"

He fumbled with the canvas bag, trying to pull his flamer out, when all of a sudden, he was knocked off his feet.

Heeswyck pushed him back, then jumped straight up in the air, to shoulder height. On the way up, he drew his legs up, and when he was at his apogee, he kicked out, toe first, and struck the enviro panel. All the lights in the corridor went completely black.

Krigbaum only lay on the floor where he had been knocked down. He heard plenty of muffled thuds and curses, and the thrum of two laser carbines being discharged - saw the bright green bolts of light, too.

Finally, maybe a minute after it started, the corridor was silent, and the light came back on.

There was a row of crumpled security guards on the floor, most of them with their necks visibly broken, and at the other end of the hall was Heeswyck. He had just non-chalantly thumbed the light switch back on. Krigbaum stood, and stared.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" He looked at Krigbaum with a big smile.

Krigbaum smiled back at him, and was about to say something, when he suddenly dropped to one knee, raised the flamer to his shoulder and said, quietly, "Heeswyck, hit the floor".

The young officer did what he was told, and was rewarded by two blasts of superheated plasma being shot over him by Krigbaum. The young officer, Heeswyck, glanced back behind him, and watched as a hovering security robot sputtered to the floor, with two plasma holes burned right through it.

"That's the way to do it. Better get up, we have to get those documents and get out of here before the whole place goes berserk."

"Good idea," said Heeswyck, as he stood, "And here's the portmaster's office. Let's get what we came for, and leave."

*****

A brief while after they had entered the building, DeAlteriis was pleased to see Heeswyck and Krigbaum come back out again. He smiled at them.

Major Burnes and the rest of the team were loitering around on the raised loading platform next to the Cetacea, across a half dozen slidewalks, and maybe 500 meters away from the Port Authority building.

The idea was that they would mill about, while DeAlteriis got a closer look at the ship--at least the outside of the ship.

Krigbaum came up, and was trying to look suave and natural. DeAlteriis saw that he pressed the pouch of documents and security cards into Burnes' hand. Burnes stared at him, until Krigbaum gave him a satisfying smile. Burnes nodded, slightly, and then gave the pouch to DeAlteriis to hold onto.

"Well, people, here's the tall and the short of it. I can take off inside this ship, no problem. It looks like their engines have been cycling for the past hour or so, and that means she's ready to go now. I would assume that they have a pretty standard suite of pilot controls - the bridge is definitely for a human controller, versus a robot one." DeAlteriis looked off in the distance as he spoke, trying to remain detached.

"However, after we take off, I have to fly out through the atmospheric locks at the end of this cavern. That means waiting for the locks to open, flying inside, waiting for the locks to close again, and then departing into the outside atmosphere. From the looks of how quickly those locks cycle, if we get there as soon as they are about to open, we should be able to pass through in about 10 minutes."

Burnes, also looking off into the distance, replied "Sounds good. What do you need from us?"

"As soon as the lock doors start cycling, they pretty much run on automatic, there's no human interaction. We'll be able to get out, no matter what. Even still, if anything happens in here, and there's any sort of disturbance, we might need a distraction. It will keep the security personnel from opening fire on us when we are stuck inside the lock."

"A disturbance, you say? I think that if anything does happen, then Danny, Johansen and myself can create one hell of a disturbance, right men?"

DeAlteriis saw Johansen slowly nod. He had gotten a long sliver of wood and was chewing on it, in his attempt to appear as a rustic plankton farmer. Danny just growled lowly, and pulled the overcoat higher on his shoulders, and the big floppy hat lower on his head.

Suddenly, the air exploded with the wail of sirens. There were flashing lights appearing all along the walkways and slidewalks around the Port Authority building, and a couple dozen security guards were emerging with 6, maybe, no 10 anti-grav security robots. The massed forces fanned out to create a perimeter around the port authority building.

"Well, that's that. Okay, DeAlteriis--you take Heeswyck and Krigbaum and get the hell out of here. Tell Hollingsworth to come back and get us when this is all over. We'll give you 2 minutes to get in the ship and lifted off, so I suggest moving now!"

"Yes sir! Guys, come with me." DeAlteriis turned, and pulling the ship's electronic security card out of the pouch, he opened the cargo bay door, and in disappeared Heeswyck and himself.

"Johansen, here, you might need this." Krigbaum tossed his flamer to the Corporal. "The plasma bottle is already heated up, so it's ready to fire. See you on the other side!" And he too disappeared into the Cetacea's cargo bay.

*****

Lareaneow was just curiously aroused when she had first noticed the scene below. Then, as things got interesting, she stood to get the whole view from her office window. Her tail was flicking around, uncontrollably.

Something had happened in the Port Authority building, and a number of security guards had come rushing out. Shortly after the freighter Cetacea lifted off, a number of those guards came over to check out the loading platform where the big Aslan and his companions were waiting.

As the guards got closer, one of the human companions had produced a plasma weapon, and proceeded to melt down a number of security robots - a whole paw full of robots, in fact. He was a deadly accurate shot with the weapon.

The other human companion had stunned a number of guards with several flashbombs, then scared some others away with a pistol.

But what really interested Lareaneow was when the Aslan shed his ridiculous looking worker's cloak and hat. He stood at his full height, with the look of the hunter in his eyes, and his mane bristling. His impressive fighting trim revealed, he filled his massive lungs with air - tearing the thin workers shirt that he wore underneath the cloak.

She felt something stir deep within herself as she saw him throw his head back. And Senior Administrator Lareaneow was aware of the huge amount of pheromones her body was pumping out when the giant Male bellowed out a leonine roar intended to travel across the grasslands of their common evolutionary homeworld.

She almost couldn't believe how she was feeling. When she saw him throw away the fragments of his shirt, and extend both dewclaws, she felt her body reacting in a manner most unbecoming of a Senior Administrator. Then when the Male launched himself off the platform into the group of security guards underneath him, she knew that she had to get down there, and make sure that he was safe. So she began running to the lift shaft.

Along the way, the ancient memory of the scents her body was producing awakened the instincts in several of the other administrative Females in the building, and they were all going with her. Regardless of corporate rules, there was a need for the pride to have a Male.

part 7

Kyle, part 5

2005-06-30T00:09:00.000-04:00

"Johansen here. We have just done a search of the cargo hold, and the engine deck. There is no sign here of Celena's body. We are about to check the boat slip, then the staterooms. Johansen out." He replaced the comm back into his jacket pocket.

"Do you think she's back from the dead?" His Aslan companion was walking slowly to Johansen's rear.

"No, Danny, humans don't come back from the dead. It's not, what you say, natural?" Johansen waited for Krigbaum to catch up. He was guiding the sensor robot with a remote unit, and occasionally had to wait for the robot to catch up. It wasn't a very smart robot, but it was very useful.

"Well, I was thinking. Herrowwwl....that maybe because she is a female. They have strange and mysterious ways."

Johansen rolled his eyes. "No, Danny. Human males and females are not THAT different. Well, at least not most of the time."

"Warrumph. Aslan females are a world apart. That's the way it should be. After all, who would buy your food, otherwise?"

The whirring sensor robot came down the passage way past the armsmen. Krigbaum was not far behind. He had a set of HUD goggles on, and a VR glove.

"Gangway, one side. Sensor specialist Krigbaum coming through..." He followed the robot, seeing through its sensors. The robot reached the end of the hall, and activated the automatic iris valve to the boat deck. It then entered the room.

Krigbaum all of a sudden stopped moving. He just stood there.

"Uh, Johansen. You better get the captain. He's not going to believe this." His head tilted slightly, but he didn't remove the goggles.

"What is it - do you see something?"

"You could say that..." Krigbaum stood perfectly still, twitching fingers on his VR glove, sending commands to the sensor robot, but not moving his head.

Then Johansen noticed that he was licking his lips.

"Krigbaum, what is it. What the hell are you looking at?"

"Well, like I said, you better get the captain. Cause I think I found Celena."

Johansen left him and trotted to the end of the passageway, to cross through the iris valve. When he did, he was greeted by the site Krigbaum had been staring at through the robots sensors.

The darkened boat deck had a large see through set of view ports out into space, so you could see when the launch pulled into the slip. Out there, illuminated brightly, was the launch.

Standing on the deck, without a stitch of clothing on, was the figure of Celena. Staring out the view panel at the launch, with her hands pressed against it. Motionless.

After a few silent moments, Johansen pulled the comm from his pocket.

"Captain. You better get down to the boat deck."

His voice must have been heard by Celena, because she broke out of her trance. She straightened her back, took her hands from the view panel, and then waved a hand across her field of vision, in front of the launch. A second later, all the power on the launch shut down, for a second time.

*****

Hollingsworth and Heeswyck were alone on the bridge, but they were both staring at a comm panel. It had a live feed from the boat deck, showing the launch outside the slip. The side of the small ship's boat had been melted away by the decomposing effects of the nano-machines, but the inner airlock had not been breached. It looked quite dead as it just floated there, with only a few dim lights visible in the cockpit view panels.

"Captain, this might not be the time, but I have a question for you."

He turned to look at the only member of his crew that he knows from before the Rebellion. Other than Celena, that is. Celena. Back?

"Yes, Heeswyck, what's your question?" He never turned from the panel.

"Well, sir, earlier today you referred to Culp and Sekula as the girls. But you still referred to Mitchell as Mitchell. I, uh, was wondering...don't you think of Mitchell as a girl?"

"Of course I do! She's beautiful. And talented, and intelligent. Best damn small vessel engineer I've ever served with. But if I say anything at all to her that lets her think I see her as a woman, she'll kick my ass."

He smiled briefly, but still stared at the view panel.

"Is that all you can think of right now?" Hollingsworth was quite fond of the younger officer, and enjoyed watching Heeswyck grow in his role. Very different from his beginnings as just a trained bodyguard for a Royal Heir.

"Well, actually, no it's not. I'm worried about all of them. But I don't know what to do." The young man shifted from one side to the other. He followed his captain's lead, and stared at the unmoving image of the launch.

"You can get down to the boat deck. If Deyo's plan works and those nano-bugs are dead or gone, then they'll need help getting our people off the launch once it comes inboard. Take Turnitsa with you, he'll be worried about Culp."

"Aye, Sir."

As the younger officer left the bridge, he bumped into the leader of the Marine contingent, coming up from below.

"Hollingsworth, what is it? I heard something about Celena?"

The Captain turned to see a very somber and serious Major Burnes come onto the bridge deck.

"Yes, Major, I think so. Your people, Johansen and Krigbaum, are bringing her this way." The Captain paced back and forth on the open deck, behind his command chair. He was, in spite of his comments to Burnes, still staring at the comm panel.

"Deyo, are you sure that there is no electrical action on the hull of that launch? I want to be absolutely sure that those nano-machines are gone before we bring her into our slip."

He heard the old Deyo, the cool collected voice, coming out of the avionics shack.

"Yes. It is dead on the outside. No EM field at all. And I have already slaved the launch's computer, so whenever you give the word..."

"Very good, Deyo. Bring her inside, and let’s get those people out of there."

He was concerned about the crew members, and also about the fuel that would allow them to escape this patch of dead space, but he was also very, very interested in seeing Celena again.

*****

Just as soon as Turnitsa got done activating the EVA maintenance robots, he went to the flight deck.

As he was entering the flight deck, he saw Heeswyck and Danny leading Mitchell's crumpled form to a series of couches the Aslan had set up. Culp and Sekula were already sitting in couches of their own, with their helmets removed.

He rushed to Culp's side to see how she was.

"Well. You certainly got the good ticket this mission." He smiled at her and helped her start removing gloves.

"Yeah. Fun ride. Did anyone get the number on that speeder that hit us?"

"Cute. Captain tells me that you managed to get another bellyful of fuel into that launch. I guess my machines did pretty good, huh?" His smile was wide, and infectious.

"Well, yeah. Until they went berserk and started eating everything in site. Lucky thing they didn't eat Mitchell. I told you that stuff was dangerous, and look at what it did?"

The programmer rolled his eyes, "I've already been over it with the Captain. Nothing that I designed or programmed could have done that. It must have had something to do with whatever caused the blackout."

He watched as her head rolled slowly backwards, to rest on the couch. He started undoing the Velcro webbing on her pressure suit, to make her more comfortable. She kept talking, though. "The blackout. Yes, the blackout. Sekula and I found something over on the alien ship, and she picked it up. That was when it happened."

He glanced over Culp to the other form on the next couch. "Sekula--glad to see your awake, I'll give you a hand in a second."

"Don't bother, I can tell you're busy enough over there with AJ. You two take all the time in the world." She was smiling at them, and Turnitsa saw that she looked to be in pretty good shape, too.

Then he noticed her hand.

"What the hell happened to your glove?" It was only half fashioned.

"What's that on the arm of your pressure suit?"

"What? Oh this" The programmer watched as she rose up her hand, and looked, stupidly, at the glove. "Oh yeah!" She got a sudden look of recognition.

"AJ, you must have pulled my glove back on." She reached over and pulled it off.

"Damn." It looked painful to him. "Does that hurt?" He looked at the black scorch marks on her hand, and up the sleeve of her pressure suit.

"Funny. No it doesn't, actually. But it doesn't rub off either. It's like something shorted out or exploded in my hand. Say, Culp - did you pick up that crystal - I'm sure that's what did this to me. Right after I picked it up, the whole world blacked out for me."

"Me too. But, no, I didn't pick up the crystal. Come to think of it, when I got you out of the alien ship, I didn't even see it lying around. Things were a mess, though. When I got you out the whole alien ship was decompressing. The outside hull had been eaten by laughing boys" He jumped as she thumbed at him, "Nano-machines. Things went berserk when we all blacked out."

"Weird. I wonder what that crystal was."

He had been going back and forth between the two of them, following their comments to each other, when he felt his hair crawl up his neck.

"Turnitsa!! What the hell do you mean setting me up with some crappy half-assed technology that tries to get me killed?" Mitchell had woken up. And just in time for all of them to see Danny help DeAlteriis come limping out of the launch.

Turnitsa stood first, and started clapping, followed by Heeswyck, Culp, Sekula, and finally Mitchell. The last three struggled to stand, but they all owed their lives to the pilot.

The ship's programmer was smiling as he saw DeAlteriis toss his helmet aside, and grinning, just looked around and asked, “What?"

*****

"Alright, Deyo, you know the score. We have 40 tons of crappy fuel that we got from the nano-machines. The jump drive is already acting like a tempramental whore, and we need to get out of here. What have you found?"

*****

The engineer was talking over her shoulder to the comm panel, but she was busy putting away the tools and meters she had out for her repairs. When she heard the astrogator replying to her question, she turned to face the panel. No image, of course, but his voice was not to be mistaken, not even over the hum of the ship's powerplant.

*****

"Well. I believe that I have found a system with a colonized world, within approximately 8 light years of here. That should take the 40 tons of fuel we have in the Rani, and if we siphon off the last couple of tons of hydrogen out of the launch, we should have maneuver time in the system when we come out of jump space."

*****

"What system is it?"

"Nothing too exciting. a main sequence red star named Kappa Corvii. The world is the only one inhabitable in the system, and it's quite cold. The locals dwell in underground cities. It appears as if they are there for harvesting some kind of bugs that live in the liquid ocean, under the icy surface."

"What a great sounding place! Can we get some fuel there and figure out where the hell we're going?" She stared at the screen. Why won't Deyo show himself ever?

*****

"I know it doesn't sound like much, but it's the best I can do. And yes, they do have a downport where we can get fuel and flush our filters. The good news is that there are no Imperial bases in the system. And there's better news for Danny. One of the harvesting companies is run by an Aslan bond-family.

"Wonderful. More fur balls. And what's this garden spot called?"

"It's called Corax. And I wouldn't knock it completely. They are supposed to have really great calamari."

"I'm sure Heeswyck will be pleased. Is Hollingsworth up there, I need to talk to him about the engines."

"Good luck. He disappeared with Celena over an hour ago. I wouldn't hold my breath."

*****

"I tell you again. I am in the body of the one you call Celena, but I am not Celena."

"Alright. Who are you, then?" Hollingsworth was alternating between desperation, and frustration. He was anxious about the idea of having the woman he loved back again, but frustrated because it was obviously not entirely her.

"I am other. I am at once many and none. I inhabit this body because it is available, and because it is undamaged. I am aware of it because she who awoke me thinks of this body. She is an acquaintance."

"Yeah. You must mean Sekula. She and Celena were friends. In fact Celena was friends with most of the crew. But I need to know who you are. For instance, what do you mean that you are many and one."

The woman, or whoever it was, inside of Celena's body didn't look in one place for long. Her head was constantly drifting around, looking at all details in the room at the same time. Her field of vision would cross the Captain's face from time to time, and for the briefest of moments, her look would linger there. He thought he saw recognition, but then she'd be gone again, looking somewhere else.

"I am of the Rish. As a race it is our belief to preserve each generation, and this we do by giving of ourselves, upon death, to the crystal. All the Rish in our ship, that your soldiers destroyed, are stored in the crystal. This body now is that awareness."

He stared at her, briefly, while thinking about what she was saying.

"Tell me more about this awareness. And what do you know about what happened to our ship?"

"The awareness is...Rish. I do not explain it. I am unable. I do know many things. Many things beyond the physical perception of this body. When I became of this body, I attempted to protect the bodies of Rish--to do so I disrupted all local power systems. It is now too late for that, so I am content."

"So, you lashed out and shut everything down? You can do that."

"Yes, that and other."

Hollingsworth shot up out of the chair, and nervously began pacing back and forth in the room.

"And the second time? When you had been in that body for a while, you shut down things on our ship's launch. What was that about?"

"I am one with this body now. It is important to this body to keep alive. It is therefore important to this body that micro life does not consume this vessel. I shut off micro life and all power in the smaller vessel. Micro life was not then behaving as it should because of my earlier action, so I repaired the situation."

"You caused the nano-machines to change? And then you shut them down? Hot jumping cheese! Please do me a favor, and don't do that again -- I don't want to know what else you can do if you shut something down." He was still pacing up and down again for a few minutes, when something hit him.

"Wait a second. You just said that it is important to that body that it stay alive. Are you in contact with that body? With Celena, with the original inhabitant of that body?"

"Yes I and Celena are both inside this body. When I return to Rish I will be gone, and only Celena will be inside this body. She longs for return."

He slammed his hands down on the table, leaning forward, staring into her eyes.

"Alright then tell me, how do you return to Rish."

"The one who awoke me must will it. She contains the power, and can return me to the crystal of Rish."

"Sekula? Sekula can will you to return?" As she turned her head aside to start glancing around the room again, he returned her face, gently, to face his. She did not struggle against that.

"Yes. If she wills, then I will return to Rish, and Celena will return to this body."

"Well? And why won't Sekula will you to return? Do you know? Have you spoken with her" He was excited and his voice grew louder.

"Sekula is without someone. In the instant when she was in touch with Rish she saw that person. She knows it...inside. But she is not aware of it on the surface."

"Who? Who would Sekula--wait a damned second! You're talking about Kyle, aren't you!"

Celena thought for an instant. Blinked twice, without changing the expression on her face, and then spoke. "Yes. It is Kyle. However it is only one of him. One of Kyle is mechanical, an artificial. The one that Sekula longs for is held against his will."

"What? Are you telling me that there are two Kyles? And that one of them is a fake? And that one is a prisoner?? Hot jumping cheese! Don't go anywhere, I've got to get some more of my people in here. Damn, this is huge. Bigger than--shit, I don't know what. But it sure as hell is huge!"

part 6

Kyle, part 4

2005-06-30T00:08:00.000-04:00

"Alright, so let me get this straight. Turnitsa here has been experimenting with nano-machines, and you think that he can program a batch of them to tear apart whatever it is that their life support system creates, and pull out enough hydrogen to give us jump fuel?" Hollingsworth had a scowl ever since he heard the plan. But he had to admit it was a good plan.

"Well, yeah. Should be pretty simple. After all, your man Johansen says he found out where their pressure, water vapor, and atmosphere are coming from. Assuming that these aliens are pretty much a species that would have to have that created over a long period of time, these machines should produce a LOT of atmosphere. With what is in there, and what they produce, we should have more than enough to fill our tanks." He noticed how she flitted around in her chair whenever she talked about the benefits of trying this plan. She's unsure, he thought.

"I have to admit, Mitchell, the idea is very interesting. And IF it works, it would mean a way out of here. Let me know what the strict requirements are going to be, and whether you can create everything you'll need." He thought for a moment. "One more thing - remind me to tear Turnitsa a new asshole when this is all over. Nano-machines, on our starship. Holy jumping cheese."

*****

There was a shaky image on the view port of Johansen wearing body armor and a plasteel helmet--his face was stained by some dark slime. To the captain, however, he looked like he was enjoying himself.

"Captain, sir. This is Corporal Johansen. Our clearing operation has gone exceptionally well; PFC Krigbaum has covered himself with glory, as has our cross-training officer, Danny."

"Cut the military crap, Johansen. Is the ship safe for Mitchell and Turnitsa to come over?" Ten minutes clearing out a bunch of aliens waking up out of cold sleep, and they go all gung-ho on me.

"Quite safe, sir. We're cleaning up the bodies even now." In the background, Hollingsworth saw a camouflaged cylinder hover past the screen.

"OUTSTANDING WORK, PRIVATE KRIGBAUM. WE'LL MAKE A REAL MARINE OUT OF YOU YET. YOUR FINE CONTROL OF THE FLAME THROWER WAS EXEMPLARY. FIRST CLASS WORK. AND YOU HAVE WHAT IT TAKES TO MAKE SURE THOSE SONS OF MOTHERS ARE DEAD DEAD DEAD. NOW, ALONG WITH ME, AS WE SING THE IMPERIAL STAR MARINE ANTHEM..." Hollingsworth couldn't believe that they had taken the TAU with them aboard the enemy craft.

*****

"Mitchell are you sure this will work?" Turnitsa wasn't so sure. But he was willing to give it a try. And just to be double safe, he rechecked his logic on the portable computer, to be double sure he had place the generational counter bomb in the nano-machines. They were programmed to deconstruct all hydro-carbon molecule structures they found, and to save combine all but the hydrogen into inert waste. The hydrogen would, in theory, be a liberated gas at that point.

"Sure. Just so long as those bugs of yours will do what they are advertised to do."

"Oh, yeah. They will. Very well." He thought back to the speed they tore apart what was in the toilet.

"Well, then, release them into this chamber, and we'll see what's happening with them."

Turnitsa attached the large pressure bottle to the apparatus that Mitchell had created. It was a large hood that was welded to the wall in the main central room of the alien craft. It covered about a half dozen of the strange solid-state panels that emitted the ship's atmosphere. It turned out to be a non-homogenous mix, with strange amounts of noble gasses appearing occasionally, but all assumed that was what the homeworld atmosphere of the aliens consisted of.

"Okay, there they go. In about two hours they should all be dead, and we'll have to release another batch. It'll be a good safety valve on what they can accomplish in case something goes wrong. I hope you're right about how long it will take to fill our own tanks." He glanced at the hoses coming off the hood, and saw them disappearing down the hallway of the alien craft, going back towards the hatch leading to the Rani.

"Eight hours. Maybe ten. Depends on how efficient those bugs of yours are." She was checking her own portable computer. It was a little difficult. They were both wearing pressure suits, and he noticed that her computer was covered with water vapor, much as his was. Made reading it a little difficult, but not impossible.

*****

"I appreciate this, sir. I know that it's not really part of our mission, but"

"Damn right, Sekula, it's not part of our mission. We are supposed to get out of here as quickly as possible, and get your notes back to the thinkers behind this little rebellion of our." Hollingsworth paced back and forth. He thought for a second, and then turned toward the com screen again.

"But, I realize that this is important. We can't very well take that ship with us, and I don't know when we'll be able to get it's location to a reputable university or study group. Just be careful. And another thing, as soon as this harebrained fueling scheme of Mitchell's is done, I want to get out of here. Just to be safe, better take Culp with you. She can handle herself, and might come in useful if you find any interesting equipment. Hollingsworth out."

*****

"Wow. Would you look at the damage they did in here" Culp was walking through the central chamber where all the alien cylinders were located. The walls and cylinders were burnt and scarred. There were a disturbing number of holes shot through the outer cover of the cylinders. When Krigbaum, Johansen, and Danny decide to take out some potential hostiles, they don't mess around.

"Yeah, they sure did a thorough job. So much for getting anything really interesting from these cylinders." As Sekula was saying this, her companion noticed that she picked up a piece of the burnt remains, and then gingerly placed it down again.

"What is this-" There was an interesting looking panel on the wall, near one of the life support emitters. Culp used her utility knife to peel up the edge of the panel, and started analyzing its electronic innards.

"Interesting, what do you think it is?" Culp had to slide over to give Sekula room to squat down next to her, and look at what she was doing.

"I'm not sure yet. Wait a second." I can do this, she thought, there. "I think I found its frequency. Yes, hold on." A few adjustments. "Here goes..."

She held up the small portable computer, which was now wired to the panel, and a flurry of numbers and symbols flashed by for a few seconds. Click.

"Wow. It's a door." She looked at Sekula. The intel expert was wide-eyed, and staring at the wall, then AJ Culp saw what she was looking at.

"It's a big door."

There was a large panel that slid out of the way. Behind it was an elaborately decorated symbol on the wall, and out was sliding a thick black slab.

"Well, Sekula. You were looking for something. I would say that this definitely counts as something."

The panel in the wall had slid out of site, and behind it was some ornately carved symbol on the wall. Sticking out of it, about a meter and a half, into the room was now a thick black slab. On top of the slab. There was further ornate carving – if anything even more decorative than what was on the wall. And in the middle of it all, Culp saw a strange object that looked like a bluish diamond. It was flat, and from the looks of it, it was maybe a centimeter thick, and about 8 centimeters across.

"Yes, definitely something." She was prodding it with her finger, and Culp had to bite back a slight laugh as Sekula tried to pop it out of the depression it was sitting in. It kept sliding back down again, as she tried to slide it out. Everything was slick with moisture from the water vapor in the air. These aliens must come from a really wet environment...

"You know, if you really want to pick up that thing, you could pop off your glove for a minute. The suits are pretty well sealed at the wrists and ankles, and I am pretty sure that my atmospheric analysis didn't turn up anything corrosive in this atmosphere."

"Yeah," said Sekula, pulling off her glove, "Maybe you’re right." She then reached down and pushed down on one side of the 'diamond', and slid a finger under the other side to pick it up.

And the whole world exploded.

*****

AJ stirred for a moment and then woke up. It was dark, and it took a few minutes to realize that she way lying on the floor, inside a pressure suit. Funny - all the lights inside the suit's helmet are out, and the heads up display as well.

She raised herself up on one arm, and the stiffness of her joints betrayed the amount of time that she had been on the floor. Must have been a couple of hours.

Hours! She was still breathing? A quick tap on her helmet to see if the HUD came to life - it did not. She glanced around, no light source anywhere. Fumbling with her tool pack on her leg, she pulled out a chem light, and snapped it to life. Looking at her wrist meter, it appeared that she had 40 minutes of air left in her suit. Then she saw, past her upraised arm, on the floor - Sekula's crumpled form.

It all came back, as she knelt to check on Sekula. The decorative structure that they had found and the crystal that was displayed in it. Sekula took off her glove to touch it, and then--

AJ found the glove on the floor, and rolling over her companion; she reached for the limp arm, and began to pull the glove on. The suit should be sealed, but no use taking chances. It was hard to tell in the chemical light, but it looked like her arm was scorched or burnt. There was definitely some sort of dark spot etched on her hand. Nothing for it now - got to get her up, and get back to the launch.

She tapped the communicator on her helmet ring, but there was nothing. No static, nothing. Everything electrical had shut off. The very simple pressure controlled mechanical valves on their pressurized air tanks were still working, but who knows if the pressure gauge is reading accurately?

So she lifted up the other woman and started dragging her out of the alien ship towards the airlock. She prayed there was enough time.

*****

It was a good dream. Flying over the canyons -- faster, farther, and higher than any of his friends. She was there. Always there - in his dreams. Flying next to him - going through all the motions with him. Up, over the canyon wall, down into the valleys on the far side. Faster, faster. High into the clouds - she was still with him. He tried to focus in on her face, and then--

"Damn. Double damn. I always wake up at that part." DeAlteriis looked around the cabin. It was all dark. A few lights on the consoles, and the dim red vision preserving lights around the ceiling panels. But not what it should be. What had happened?

He tried to think back, to remember what had gone on. He remembered floating, in zero-gee, over the console chair of the launch. There was a conduit over to the alien ship, going back into the collapsible tanks he had in the back of the launch. There was some sort of plan to have nano-machines create hydrogen out of the elements of the life support system on the alien craft. Once it was pumped back over to pressurized tanks, it would become the liquid hydrogen that the ship needed for its reactors.

All that was good, but what had knocked him out? Taking a cursory look at the panel, as he pulled himself down into the console chair, told him that something had knocked out the launch as well. The main powerplant had shut down. The better part of the fuel in his cells was still there, but the craft as now operating on back up power from chemical cells. Did something happen on the alien ship? He dragged himself to life, after strapping in, and began doing a quick diagnostic check.

With what was working, he could see that he had enough juice to maneuver back to the Rani. There was hours and hours of life support available, again from chemical cell backup, so that wasn't a problem. Looking over his shoulder, back into the main compartment of the launch, he saw the reflectorized collapsible fuel tank taking up the majority of the room. And it was near to being topped off. 'Good,' he though, 'this load will bring our total to about 40 volumetric tons.' He'd already ferried 20 tons back to the Rani, and this was to be the second of four trips.

He turned on the remote cams on the outside of the launch, to have a look at what was going on over at the alien craft, and that brought to mind the fact that there were team mates of his over there. Mitchell was monitoring the collection process. Inside the ship, Sekula and Culp had gone in to take a look around and see what they could salvage of the aliens that had been in there.

The cams showed the flexible conduit coming into the side of the launch, and heading out in space, but the images were flickering, and getting dim quickly. He shut them down. Probably required a lot of battery power to run the cameras, lights, and servos. Instead he floated up and away from the console, over towards the open side hatch the conduit was coming into. It had some webbing over the whole thing, to keep anything of size from floating out while in zero gee.

He saw the conduit disappear off into relative darkness. With no sun nearby, there wasn't a lot of ambient light. He reached into the toolbox recessed into the bulkhead near the hatch, and pulled out a battery operated flashlight. Flicking it on, he followed the conduit out towards the alien ship.

He saw the tether line heading out, with the dangling leashes off it, and the conduit. But out, maybe 20 meters from his vessel, he couldn't believe it. There floating, hanging from a leash on the tether, was a figure in a pressure suit. Was it? Yes, it's Mitchell. Damn.

Then he saw the sparkling lights. In the light of the powerful flashlight, there was a golden sparkling, like a mist of gasses or particles floating in space. It was all around the end of the conduit - which just ended there in space! Looking out past it, he didn't see the conduit stretching off into the distance, but rather chunks of its walls and structures - all torn up, and floating in space!

Finally, at the very limit of his vision with the flashlight, out about 100 meters away, he saw the alien craft. The side of it was rotted out. Decomposed, and there was a flurry of golden particles in a cloud all around it.

The nano-machines must have gone berserk, he thought. Not really sure of how they worked, he remembered that Turnitsa said they were only going to tear apart organic compounds - hydrocarbons - and extract the hydrogen. The rest of the atomic pieces would be left or reassembled by the nano-bugs into inert goop. That's all they did - take simple hydrocarbons and extract the hydrogen. This wasn't what they were supposed to be doing. Not tearing apart metals, metal foil, dense super plastic foams, and other modern materials. What the hell had happened?

Finally, over at the alien ship, he saw emerging from the gaping hole, a pair of figures in pressure suits. One was lifting the other under her arm - it was Culp, and she was carrying Sekula. He waved the light at them, and hoped they noticed the cloud of nano-machine particles out there. This mission was definitely going from bad to worse.

*****

"I want to know what the hell happened!" Hollingsworth was furious. Filthy too. He was eating a meal, when all of a sudden something happened to him and his ship. When he woke up, he was covered in food and floating in zero gee above the mess table.

The ship came back to life before its crew woke up, so the Captain saw a few emergency lights operating, and the basic comm panels in the mess room were lit up. He slowly made his way to his stateroom, got a pair of the Velcro soled zero-gee boots, and then floated along to the bridge, where he was now - surveying the carnage.

Most of the systems were down, or at least not responding to their monitoring stations. Emergency lighting, as well as life support, was working in most of the areas of the ship. But what the hell happened?

"Deyo - good to see you made it. Any idea what that was that hit us?"

"I am not sure; however, some of the more sensitive sensors were destroyed, so I'm assuming it was a power surge. The main powerplant has shut down, although we apparently still have plenty of regular fuel. And the jump tanks are twenty five percent full."

"Great. See if you can raise the launch. Check on DeAlteriis and the girls. Also we need to get Mitchell back, as well as the rest of that fuel they're making over there. Let me know when you reach them."

*****

Krigbaum woke up floating in the galley, pressed up against the ceiling, in the corner. Evidently when the emergency power came on, the exhaust fans sucked his floating body up against an air panel. Then his focus came back, and he saw that he wasn't the only one. Johansen and Danny were also in here, and also sucked up against other exhaust panels.

The sandwiches that they had come down to eat were also floating in the room, but most of them had gotten stuck in the gear racks hanging overhead.

He kicked off the wall, and pushed himself over to where Johansen and Danny were still knocked out. He began shaking Johansen awake, and saw Danny's fur had gotten sucked into the port. That would be fun getting unentangled, he thought.

Bleep! Bleep! Bleep! The warning signal on the comm panel was alerting the room that the gravity was about to be shut back on. As the signal sounded, the full lighting in the room flickered on, and he could hear the whir of many of the appliances in the galley come back to life.

"Oh no..."

Thud! The three came crashing down to the floor in a heap as gravity returned to normal.

"Well," He lifted his sore body up off the floor, "Glad to see you two are finally awake. Quit that howling, Danny, your fur will regrow." There was a flutter of fur still falling to the ground, where it had been yanked out of the big Aslan's hide when his 110 kg body ripped from the vent.

"Easy for you to say, hairless ape." The Aslan looked at him; his eyes hot with anger.

Johansen walked over to the fallen sandwiches and started scooping them onto a tray. As he stood and turned, Krigbaum saw that the corporal was as confused as the rest of them. Regardless, Burnes wasn't around, and Johansen was in charge.

"Danny, see if you can ask the bridge what happened, and if we're okay. Krigbaum, check around to see if you can find Heeswyck, he was in here before we all got knocked out. And I'll-"

Krigbaum turned to face the "Uh oh" he heard from the corner of the galley. He saw Heeswyck emerging from the cold storage room.

Krigbaum never saw his face that shade of white before.

"Somebody get the captain on the com panel, we've got a problem. One of the cold storage racks was opened, the one where we had the bodies of Selena and Marois stored. Well, her body bag has been opened, and Celena is gone."

*****

"What the hell were you thinking?" Hollingsworth was furious. He was yelling at the programmer on a video panel, and his blood pressure was reaching the volcano stage.

The image replied, "I'm telling you - there is no way that they could have done that normally. A nano machine is a simple little device -- about as complicated as a pair of scissors. You tell them to do 2, maybe 3 things, and that's all they do. Mine were programmed to pull hydrogen out of hydrocarbons, that's all." Turnitsa was non-plussed. He had gotten spanked before, by superiors much better at it than Hollingsworth, and he knew he was not in the wrong this time.

"Then I'll ask again. What the hell happened out there?"

"That, I don't know. But it wasn't natural. The same thing that knocked out the girls, and the launch, and our ship must have done it."

The captain paced back and forth. He was still fuming mad, but not sure at whom.

The launch had returned, after DeAlteriis had gotten the maneuver drive fired up again. He had gotten Sekula, Culp, and Mitchell on board, and had maneuvered through the 90 minutes of intervening space back to the Rani of Lahore. But it wasn't safe to let them into the boat slip.

"Well, what the hell are we supposed to do now? Most of our pressure suits are on the launch. Culp has checked them out, and they are all almost out of air. They have life support, but can't refresh the air supply on their suits over there." The captain was recapping out loud to release some spleen, and maybe to jog an idea or two loose.

It only made him angrier to see Turnitsa cross his hands while waiting for the end of the diatribe.

"I'm glad that all this is amusing you. Now because of your damned nano-shit, which has infected the outside of the launch, and is slowly eating its way inside, we can't bring them into the boat slip."

The programmer closed his eyes. "I'm telling you again, sir, it's not my fault. The nano-machines can't just change their programming that way, that quickly. Something happened to them."

"Well, you better damned well figure out what the hell happened, and quick. That launch has the rest of the fuel on it that we'll need to make a crummy 1 parsec jump, as well as four of our crewmates. And one of them, I might point out, is your girlfriend. Captain out."

The captain started talking to himself, silently. In his mind he was still shouting.

'His damned bugs ate up the refueling device that Mitchell had built. They had started consuming the hardened hull on the outside of the launch. Hell, the damned things had eaten half the alien ship - it's a miracle that Sekula and Culp had gotten out alive.'

And this was the best thing he had to worry about.

part 5

Kyle, part 3

2005-06-30T00:06:00.000-04:00

"Hello people. Everyone sit down, and we'll be taking off in a minute." The cheerfulness of DeAlteriis filled the small launch, as the rest of the team came shuffling in.

Each was wearing a different colored pressure suit. Not much bulkier than the shipboard skin suits that were so popular, these had built in environment and pressure regulators to preserve the wearer in a vacuum environment. The helmets were large clear models, with a rebreather apparatus at the lower rear. Other than size, the only difference was color.

Danny was much bigger, taller by almost half a meter, and bulkier than the rest. His helmet was noticeably larger too. But he and Johansen wore identical power packs on their belts, and carried laser carbines that were attached to the power packs with thin metal-sheathed cables.

The rest were not carrying any gear with them, except AJ Culp - she had a small cloth toolkit, strapped to the outside of one of her thighs. It had a number of items inside it that might come in handy, including a small mini-torch and a portable computer. And everything in between.

"Good. As soon as everyone belts in, we'll be taking off. It'll be about 90 minutes out to the object, so feel free to remove your helmets. There are a couple of cold ones in the cooler up here, if anyone's thirsty."

*****

'I'm glad we're finally here,' Heeswyck was thinking to himself, 'If that Aslan started humming that damn dirge again, I was going to puncture his larynx.'

"Okay everyone. Strap back in. You've been good passengers so far, and I don't want any complaints now. We're coming up within a couple kilometers of the object. It seems to be about 100 meters long, and half as wide and high. There aren't any signals originating from it, but I would think that it's metallic, and probably fabricated, rather than something natural. We'll get some external lights on it in a couple of minutes."

The hissing of the launch's maneuver nozzles could be heard over the slight hum of the interior instruments. The air system and gravity were shut off, and sight preservation lighting came on.

"Alright. There it is. You can unbelt now, but be careful."

"Well," Johansen was the first one to drift to the front of the launch were DeAlteriis was still fiddling with the position of the craft. "You were right - man made."

"Watch it." Danny came drifting up beside him, and almost shoved Johansen up against the front view panel. "Not everything built is man built."

"You know you guys left your empty drink containers back here." Heeswyck was cleaning up after the two excited armsmen. Past him, Culp and Sekula bobbled up to the front of the launch, to see what they could over the shoulders of the two military men.

"Well. Looks like you guys should have some fun with this. I don't know if it's a small vehicle, or part of a prefabricated shelter. Could be either." DeAlteriis was finally satisfied with the position of the launch, and he let go of the controls, and leant over onto one side of the acceleration couch. He just gazed out of the view panel at it.

What they saw was a large metallic construct. It had no windows or anything of that sort. There was a large feature on it, probably a hatch, 2 meters tall, and 3 wide. A small access panel was on the outside surface, near it.

The structure was, in shape, a big box. It was, as guessed, about 100 meters long, and maybe half that wide and half as high. The only assumption about height vs. width was that the "bottom" was slightly bigger than the "top". It naturally looked like the larger side should be on the bottom - but there were no other indications that this was true.

"It looks like you get the dubious pleasure of going over to see what's in side. I'll wait here in the launch, just in case. Just as long as the commo gear is running on the launch, we are all in contact with each other and also with the Rani itself. Johansen, as a former Mar--wait a second! That's strange."

There was a rainbow speckle of gas particles starting to seep out of the object, around the edge of the hatch. Almost as if it were leaking gas.

"Would you look at that? The sensor says it's a breathable oxygen nitrogen mix, with some traces of water pressure. Yes - look here at our view panel. It's starting to cling to the outside of our ship. Ladies and gentlemen, whatever it is over there is coming to life, and it's over pressuring itself with a breathable atmosphere."

The chipperness of the pilot did nothing to break the crackling, electric tension in the air. There was an audible gasping in of breath when lights came to life all over the surface of the object.

"Syareahtaorl."

"Yeah. What Danny said." Johansen double checked the seal on his helmet, and then double checked the coupling of his laser carbine to the back pack.

"Wait a second, team members." DeAlteriis unbuckled from his couch, and floated back to the small cargo locker at the back of the passenger compartment. "I have something here for you. It's left over from my days as a pilot in the Imperial Star Marines. Don't ask how I got it, but it is a fully functioning TAU."

He pulled, from the closet, a large zippered gear bag, that looked old and worn. From inside he withdrew a cylinder that had a number of sensors on the outside surface. Entering a security code, he turned the device on, and it began righting itself and maneuvering around the inside of the compartment.

The camouflaged unit flitted around, and appeared to examine the inhabitants of the launch, most of whom were still quite interested in the object, or vehicle, or whatever it was outside.

"GOOD MORNING MAGGOTS. I SEE THAT WE ARE ALL ALERT AND PLEASANT AS EVER. I WILL BE YOUR TACTICAL ADVISEMENT UNIT. YOU WILL NOT ADDRESS ME AS SIR, AS I WORK FOR A LIVING." The thin metallic voice filled the launch, and was present in everyone's helmet communicator channel. The unit began scanning the ID patches that were on everyone's pressure suits.

"I SEE THAT," clack, clack, "CORPORAL JOHANSEN IS THE RANKING IMPERIAL STAR MARINE PRESENT. YOU WILL ADDRESS HIM AS SIR AS HE IS THE ACTING OFFICER. EVERY IMPERIAL STAR MARINE IS ONE DAY AFFORDED THE PRIVILIGE OF COMMAND OVER TROOPS IN BATTLE AND TODAY IS CORPORAL JOHANSEN'S. FOR YOU CIVILLIAN MAGGOTS, THE PROPER PROTOCOL IS TO SALUTE THE RANKING IMPERIAL STAR MARINE IN YOUR PRESENCE. THAT IS DONE BY RAISING YOUR PINK PUDGY EFFEMINATE HAND UP TO YOUR EYEBROW AND"

Click. Johansen had hit the power down button sharply.

"Thanks, DeAlteriis, but I don't think we'll need a TAU on this mission. I appreciate the offer, though."

"Sure, no problem. I'll just put him back in his bag, and we'll hold on to him until later. He plays a great game of chess."

Culp floated over to the hatch on the launch, and began cycling its switch. She turned to Johansen as she passed him, and said "Thanks, Lunk. That thing was already giving me a headache."

"My name is Sven."

"Right. Lunk." She smiled, and the hatch opened. Even though the cabin of the launch had been de-pressurized, as soon as the hatch was opened, there was a speckling of water molecules everywhere, especially on the helmets. That object over there was really putting out a lot of moisture and air.

"Okay," Heeswyck floated out first, "Here we go."

*****

"Captain, I just overheard your conversation with DeAlteriis. If that thing is really producing an atmosphere -- I mean, with a working rebreather system and life support and everything, then maybe our fuel problems are solved. Turnitsa's been working on something that might help us out." Mitchell was intently speaking into the wall com unit, while pecking away on a portable computer with her stylus.

"Something that will help with fuel, eh? Well, we don't know what the hell is inside that thing, or what it really is. Culp is getting the team in past the hatchway now, and I'll ask them to keep an eye out for whatever is pumping the air. Let's keep our fingers crossed. Hollingsworth out."

'Shit', the engineer said to herself. 'It would take a hell of a lot of air, or whatever else that thing is creating, but it might work.'

"Turnitsa--hey, you hacker. Get the hell down to the drive deck, I have an idea. And bring your files on the Zimmerman work with you."

*****

"See, easy as pie." The hatch unsealed and started retracting, as Culp withdrew the connecting cables from her portable computer away from the access panel outside the alien object.

As she packed the computer back into her Velcro attached toolkit, she let herself drift away from the hatch. She was attached to the lifeline that had been rigged between their launch and the outside wall of the object, and she let herself float freely, trusting in the safety line.

"Very good. I don't know how you do it, but now it's our turn. Danny, come up here and keep an eye on things while I go in."

"Right behind you. Suit lights on."

The other side of the hatch was some sort of airlock, and there was room enough for all five of them. The two armsmen entered first, followed by Sekula, and Heeswyck, and finally Culp. She had them all detach their lifelines, as she closed the outer hatch.

The airlock was 'smart', and as soon as the outer hatch was closed, it began to pressurize.

"You can open that thing up again, can't you?" Heeswyck's voice was steady, and the question was largely rhetorical.

"Sure can, with just a wave of my magic wand." Culp showed them the small electronic transmitter that she had downloaded the hatch's security frequencies into.

"Good, because this is starting to feel really disturbing. I mean, who built this place? What is it? Is it a ship? And what is it doing out here alone? Very interesting." Heeswyck was tracing a series of symbols and lines around on the wall. Several were in different colors and thicknesses, and seemed to be some sort of instructions, leading from the outer airlock hatch, to the inner one.

After a few minutes. A small indicator over the inner hatchway lit up and the doorway was opened.

"Better let us go first. Danny, I've got you covered."

"Right." The big Aslan suddenly crouched down, and peered around the corners, while the rest of them pressed towards the back of the airlock. They saw the flicker of ceiling light panels turning on in the spaces beyond the airlock.

"It's a corridor that extends in both directions, and a couple of doorways. Let’s go take a look. Johansen, you take the lead on the left, and I'll follow up."

Crisply, they moved out and began their search of the hallways and doorways. Culp and Sekula looked at each other and smiled - it was great to watch the large armsmen in action. Heeswyck hung back, and began, meticulously, to describe all they saw to DeAlteriis, and those aboard the Rani who were listening.

*****

"Alright, team. Six hours have passed, and to keep well within our safety margins, I need you to start coming back to the launch in the next couple of minutes."

"Fine. Keep the home fires burning. I think we are almost done here. Culp has managed to finish her connection to what seems to be a computer memory pool; I think she has captured at least an electronic image of what they have in there. Danny and Johansen have searched most of the rooms, and found them largely empty, except for that central circular room. Heeswyck, on the other hand, has found a locker full of what look like foil packs of supplies. We haven't opened any of them up yet."

"Great work Sekula." It was Hollingsworth. "You have all done an outstanding job. But there is one thing in particular that I need to know. Mitchell is working on an idea to refuel using supplies from that, er, ship. See if you can find out where the life support ducts are coming from."

"Sir, we haven't seen any life-support ducts at all." Culp began answering. "Almost everything in this place is smooth, as far as the walls are concerned. There is fresh air being pumped through here, but we don't know where it's coming from or anything. There is a small atmospheric sniffer in my toolkit, but it is only a sample taker, and doesn't really do its own analysis. I'll figure out what's in this air when we get back to the Rani."

"Great. Keep an eye open for those ducts, though, okay? Heeswyck, bring back a couple of those foil packs, and we'll have someone open them up under a safety hood."

"Right, sir. Hey, what's this?" Heeswyck paused. "Another doorway. This one leads back out of that, er, galley area. I'm going to check it out."

"Heeswyck, I'd feel better if you waited for-"

"It'll be fine, sir." Click. The sound of the cycling hatchway could be heard over his com.

"Where does this go? Holy shit! Damn." There was the sound of several thuds, and grunts. Then a crashing sound.

"Johansen! Danny! I want you to get over there quick. Heeswyck, answer them!"

"I'm fine sir." But he didn't sound fine - sounded like he was catching his breath.

"Damn. You did that?" It was Johansen.

"Claws of a hundred suns! I didn't know you had it in you. Herrowwl..."

"What the hell is it?"

"Dunno. It was standing in the middle of this room back here, and it suddenly came to life and moved to attack me. I think those are stunners or something at the end of its arms."

"Well, whatever it was, it's down for the count, now. Good job!" Johansen was obviously pleased.

"DeAlteriis. You'll start getting a feed on broad channels 13 and 14, pipe them to the Rani."

"Right, AJ thanks. Hey, video!" DeAlteriis was pleased at being able to see what was going on. He always hated being left behind in the launch. It was the same as it had been when he was in the Corps. Always a flight officer, never a soldier.

The two small hover cameras that Culp had activated began to buzz around the room that Heeswyck had just entered. It was a dark room, but the suit lights of Danny and Johansen were illuminating it slightly. The room was lined with some large white ovoid chambers, maybe three meters tall. On the floor was a -- a what? A robot? Probably. It had a metallic body and variegated arms. Its main sensor suite was on a distinct unit, which was formerly attached to the main body by a thin cylinder. Now that sensor suite lay on the floor, and some sort of appliance from the galley was thrust through the chest of the unit. Heeswyck had taken it out single handedly. All were impressed.

"Okay, everyone. I don't want anybody touching those big chambers. Sekula, you and Culp start working towards the exit. Heeswyck, good work, but now you need to get out. Danny, you and Johansen-"

All of a sudden, lights in the room came on. The hover cameras caught what the two armsmen saw.

"Sir - there are things of some sort in those chambers. And they are moving." Channel 13 was showing a dark shadowy object, almost the full three meters tall, moving inside one of the chambers.

"Turrakaworall eorfas." The Aslan crouched, and aimed at the chamber with his laser carbine, just in case.

"Okay, move out, slowly. Heeswyck you first - good. Now, Johansen-"

"It's moving! It's opening!" The chamber was indeed opening. A low white cloud of steam, or smoke, came out, and then there was an audible shrieking, as a large leathery creature, looking like an organic version of the robot, came flailing out and running towards Danny.

There were two quick thrums of the laser carbine discharging, and two beams of iridescent red light, and the creature dropped, but its momentum carried it forward. It crashed into Johansen, and he went sprawling under its immense weight.

They heard him grunt as he hit the wall, then breath heavily as he caught his breath.

"Danny, quickly check me for suit breaches. I think--wait a second! Hey." They all heard a slight hissing coming over his com. "I think I found the Captain's life support ducts. This white panel on the wall seems to be blowing air all over my helmet. It's blown off all the water vapor that's collected there. Yes, this is it--these strange solid state panels near the floor are somehow emitting fresh air."

"Alright, that's great, but right now--everyone, out of there. Pronto."

There was another stir within one of the chambers, and they didn't have to be told twice.

The hover cams homed in on Danny's com as they left the room, and they all worked their way, quickly, down the corridor past all the empty rooms they had seen, and out to the airlock.

part 4

Kyle, part 2

2005-06-30T00:05:00.000-04:00

Once the ship had made the jump to inter-Newtonian space, Captain Hollingsworth felt a little more secure. It had been a hell of a ride, but now they were safe. He could relax now, even if only a little. So he did the first thing that came to mind - he took a nap.

Feeling fresher when awakening, he located Major Burnes on the intercom, and asked him to head down to the makeshift lobby in the main cargo area. The ship had two cargo areas, a main large hold designed to be split up by baffles into smaller sections, and a much smaller area that was designed to take a variety of stowage modifications. In both instances, the gravity in the vast chambers had separate controls from the rest of the ship.

Since the "Rani of Lahore" was not now being used to haul ore, several baffle-walls had been erected into the main hold, to create some workspaces. One of these had been dubbed "the executive board room", because it had a long table and a dozen chairs in it. That was where Burnes was waiting for Hollingsworth.

When the curtain door opened to the room, in came Hollingsworth, and Sekula. They both sat down with Burnes, around one end of the long table.

"It's too bad - this time we were so close. How often do we hear about him making a personal appearance, and in a system were we had resources available? But what I want to know is how they knew we were coming?"

"You think that Kyle's people knew we were coming?" Hollingsworth asked, baiting an explanation. He glanced at Sekula. Neither she nor the Major were in the command section when Deyo announced that he had found a "bug" onboard the ship.

"Of course! My man Johansen had the perfect shot -- and it turned out to be a hologram. I don't understand it. Our scanners picked up the right number of lifeforms in his transport, and all the intercepted communiqués mentioned his appearance being personal. And then -- almost as if they knew we had something planned." Burnes looked confused, and slightly angry.

"I knew him to be a little cautious, but never fearful." Sekula looked at the table thoughtfully for a second, and then turned fully towards Burnes. "And Kyle was very personable with those who served under him - this sort of visit is very much in character with the man I knew before ... well, before."

Hollingsworth looked at Sekula for a moment. And then at Burnes.

"Well, I have some news for both of you. Just as we were coming out of the atmosphere of that gas giant, Deyo picked up a tight beam transmission coming from our ship. It wasn't apparent earlier, but the turbulence and EM fields of the gas giant had done something to the transponder's signal, and Deyo picked it up. It's since been scrambled, and now that we are in jump space, it doesn't much matter. Still, it IS possible that they did know of our arrival."

"How the hell? They couldn't possibly have known that we would have stolen this freighter, and made two jumps to Euphoria."

"Burnes - I don't know. It doesn't seem possible that they could have planted the bug before we took possession of the ship, but since that time we've had no direct contact with any imperial resources. Everyone on the team has been involved in the movement for sometime, so it's unlikely that we have somebody here we can't trust. I suppose it's possible that there is a sleeper agent, but that seems a little far-fetched. In the future, we'll just have to be more careful."

"Alright. If that's all, I need to go talk to Johansen. He's taking the whole mission pretty hard. I think he spent some time with your Danny earlier today - the two of them knew each other from a few missions back. If you need me, I'll be up on the crew deck."

As he walked away, the aging soldier just shook his head and looked at the floor. A traitor? In this group? He couldn't believe it. But nothing else seemed remotely possible.

"So do you think it was someone inside our team?"

"Sekula, I'll tell you what you just heard me tell Burnes -- I really don't know. But it doesn't matter, we've jumped now, and even with a transponder, they couldn't follow us if they tried. It will take them a couple of weeks to cover all our possible locations."

"Excellent, that'll give me some more time to -"

"Funny you should mention that word. Time. It's the real reason I asked to talk with you. You did need to know about the transponder, especially as the Psych/Intel officer on this mission, but there is something else."

"Anything, boss."

"Okay. I know it's been a while since you have been working on the Kyle documents, and that they are complicated and a lot of issues involved. But still - we both know your reputation, and your track record. Why the hell is it taking so long? Are you having second thoughts? After the transponder episode, I certainly didn't want to mention this in front of Burnes, but I myself need to know the truth."

"The truth? The truth. I wish I really knew what the truth was. You know what I went through with Kyle, before the Moot made him Emperor. Overnight he stopped communicating with me, I wasn't allowed into his schedule any more, and all contact was broken. But what we DID have was so very real, of that much I'm certain."

"Before the junta, we all had something real."

"Of course. I heard about Celena -- and I'm really sorry." She placed a hand on Hollingsworth's, trying to console him.

"It's alright. It had been a long time, but when I heard, it still bit me deeply. Have you heard what they're doing with her estate? Barnette claimed it for his own private 'hunting world' -- he takes his other power friends there for hunting expeditions. That fragile, beautiful forest world that she worked so hard at preserving and studying - now it's just a damned hunting preserve for a madman." Hollingsworth's eyes were ringed in red, as he clenched his fist. There was a very long silence.

"Well, that gives you something else to get back at Barnette for."

"Precisely. Now, back to my original question for you - are you able to work with Kyle's memories? Do we need to drop the whole idea of constructing -"

Klaxons began going off, and the deck's lighting changed from soft white to eyesight-preservation red. It only took Hollingsworth a second to react, but he reached for the communicator on his belt.

"Deyo - what the hell is going on up there? Mitchell, Turnitsa - somebody tell me what the hell is happening. We're in jump space-"

There was a slight crackle as the channel on the communicator adjusted itself, then, "We hit some sort of disturbance in jump space, sir, and the envelope started to crumble. Evidently the drive got cranky about that crap we picked up and used as fuel. We have to make an emergency drop back out to ..."

Reality froze for a moment.

"...Newtonian space."

"Alright, I'm coming up there, gimme a minute and I'll be in the bridge."

*****

"Hey, what's up?" Mitchell was pulling off the sensor gloves she often wore inside reactor waldos. She turned to Turnitsa with a detached smile. Just before going into jump space, yesterday, he stank up the whole bridge, and she had heard about it from a couple of folks.

"Nothing really, I was hoping you could gimme some sort of a metal container - preferably with a top. You know, like a screw top or something."

"Hmmmm....metal? I've got plenty of plastic stuff."

"Yeah, it's got to be metal."

"SO, what happened up on the bridge yesterday? Heeswyck came down here, looking all screwed up. Man was he mad, so I asked him why, and he just blurted out your name. Said something about you wrecking his sashimi. Good for you, by the way, I hate fish, especially raw fish."

"Oh, that - well, it's sort of an experiment I've been working on. Part of the reason why I need a metal canister. Oh - and the lid has to be airtight." He pulled out a pocket computer that was beeping in a case on his belt, and started poking it with a stylus.

"Here you go. Not sure what came in it, but it looks like it was lying back here for a while. I get the impression that this whole drive deck was originally run by robots. When we got here, everything was clean and tidy, unless it happened to be lying on top of something else. Robot minds work that way - if they see a can, like this one, on the floor they'll pick it up, but if it's lying on a shelf, they'll assume a human put it there, and not touch it. Dumb machines, really, when you think about it." She handed over a shiny chrome canister, with a small dent in one of its sides. It did have a screw top.

"That should be great - just so long as it's all metal, no hydrocarbon part. No, when I was in the fresher up near the bridge, I was taking a quick break from rebuilding the ship's main library memory. I have been running this experiment, and the time was right to test it out. And to do it I had to be in the bathroom."

"What are you, weird? What the hell kind of experiment do you do in the bathroom?"

"Well, I'd normally do what I was trying in a small trough or pan, but with the ship rocking all over the place-" He was cut off by her explosion.

"YEAH! Tell me about it - next time he tries skimming fuel from a gas giant, I'm going to wring the captain's scrawny neck. Have you seen my poor power plant? It's been arcing and sparking like a cheap neon sign in a rain storm. And the jump drive not only crapped out today halfway to nowhere, but I don't know what I'll have to do to get it going again. All because we had to use unrefined crap at his royal highness' bequest. That bastard is trying to destroy me!"

"Hmm. Are you through? Good. Anyway, the steel head in the fresher stall seemed safe enough for what I was trying. You see, I've been working on these nano-machines that decompose hydro-carbons at an accelerated rate. I was growing a batch I programmed the night before, and they came ready during our gas giant skimming operation. The smells that came from the bathroom were gasses that had escaped during the decomposition process. When the nano-machines had decomposed all the organic material in the water, I flushed the whole thing down the head. It worked like a champ."

"Nano-machines! Damn, you know they're illegal six different ways from Sunday!"

"Well, yes they are, and yes they aren't. I figure, since we are no longer citizens in good standing of the Thousand Suns empire, the laws don't TECHNICALLY apply to us. And you know rule number one - you can never go too far."

"You are a certifiable nut. No wonder you like running around the galaxy with Hollingsworth."

"Thanks. Anyway, I've always wanted to try programming those babies. I downloaded some of Zimmerman's papers on the subject while we were in the Euphoria system. The whole idea came to me a couple of weeks ago when we first captured this tub we're in. The robotic crew of this freighter required a full suite of positronic brain repair devices - and one of those things is a molecular level manipulation tool. With what I read in Zimmerman, I was able to put together some simple nano-bugs. I've been careful, though. They are water born - so we won't accidentally let them loose into the air - and I put a self defeating generational counter system in them, so they won't reproduce out of control and turn the whole ship into gray goo. It was pretty fun watching them tear apart the organic material in the toilet, though."

"Organic material - you didn't use..."

"Well, actually, yes I did. If you are suggesting what I think you are. I took a dump, and then emptied a vial full of my nano-bugs in there. Those babies tore it apart in under 20 seconds! I'd hate to see what they'd do to a living person."

*****

"Mitchell - I don't care how little fuel we have, I want you to get that jump drive repaired. Flush it out, fix it, I don't really care if you have to kiss its sister - just make sure that it works. Captain out."

The bridge was silent. Well, as silent as it could be -- the hum of the air recyclers was going, and there were a number of consoles beeping out regular reports, but nobody was speaking. Nobody dared.

Their jump drive had failed. Just two days into a normal 160 hour journey in jump space had seen them drop back into normal space. The usual week was cut short - but then again, they weren't really at their destination either. They were nowhere.

"The good news is that we didn't come out of jump in the middle of some polluted oort cloud. The bad news is that we are over a light year from the nearest stellar primary. And I still haven't figured out which one it is. The computer is trying to do a best match and reconfigure our spatial location, but it takes time."

"Good, I suppose. Are we near anything? A rock, a floating debris pile, anything?" The captain, not sitting in his acceleration couch, was pacing back and forth in the small 10 meter room. Deyo had propped open the hatch to his avionics shack and was speaking normally. He even had a couple of lights on in there, rather than his usual darkness.

"I'm still extending out our sensor sweep. There is a physical body about eighty thousand clicks out from where we are, but I don't have any idea what it is. It's sizable, but doesn't have a transponder on it."

"Well, tell me when you find out more. Where is Heeswyck? Heeswyck! There you are-"

"Sir." He was depositing chilled bottles of filtered water at all of the crew stations on the bridge. He figured it was going to be busy for while, and had ordered the robotic prepper to thaw and reconstitute some cheeses for snack trays.

"Heeswyck, I want you to get the whole crew together, down in the cargo hold. Use the 'board room' - it's the only place that'll fit. And serve snacks, if you don't mind - this might take a while."

Heeswyck smiled, he loved being prepared.

*****

"Hey." Turnitsa came in, folding away his portable computer, and sat down at the long table next to AJ Culp. The two of them had been an 'item' for several months now.

"Hey. I heard you stank up the bridge real good. What the hell is it with you men anyway?" She was smiling. It was his weakness, and he fumbled for words.

"Well, I. Um, well the smell wasn't all me - I mean, I . . . well, it wasn't me, well it was, but -- you know. It doesn't matter."

She smiled broader. Pathetic. But, I know he's mine. "I was talking to Mitchell and she said something about you doing an experiment with nano-machines. Something about hydrocarbon gobblers? You know I don't think that nano tech stuff is safe. There's a reason why it's illegal. I want you to be careful."

She knew. Good, that would save him an explanation. "Oh, I will. But you know it might just come in handy. Besides, I'm keeping my new stock locked up tight inside a metal bottle. The little bugs won't recreate new ones unless they have some materials to work with, and there is nothing in the bottle with them except inert water - and that they are programmed to ignore."

"Well, I still don't like it, but- Never mind, here comes Hollingsworth, let’s hear what he has to say." She brushed away his hand, and turned to listen to the captain.

Heeswyck had just finished setting out a number of snack trays and drinks for everyone and as soon as he sat down, Hollingsworth began speaking.

"Friends. I am glad to be here with you. As you know, our ‘mission’ hasn’t been too successful yet. We failed to take down the mark, although I have to say, upon reviewing Major Burnes' after action report, that the planet side members did an excellent job. It cost us some key personnel -" He breathed heavily, "But not a total loss, as we recovered several of the original team members that went down to Euphoria."

"It is very important to remember why we are here - to make a new world, a safe world, for our families and for billions of other families. Ever since the junta, things have gone from bad to worse, and although we know the normal channels have been tried, there doesn't seem to be much we can do about it. So this plan was hatched, and here we are. Take out the new Emperor, and perhaps his power structure will collapse. We know that his organization is very thin - there are few decision makers at any level, on up to Kyle's aide, Barnette. Above him, only the man himself exists, and we know that many functionaries serving under Barnette don't really like his way of handling things. So, even though there was the screw up with the hologram, I believe that it is still a good plan."

"All of you have played an important part. Deyo runs the navigation and avionics. Heeswyck is our steward. Mitchell does her roll. We still have several members of our ground crew left - Burnes, Johansen, Danny, and Krigbaum. We lost Celena and Marois on Euphoria. We still have DeAlteriis as a pilot, Turnitsa as a programmer, Sekula in charge of Intel, and of course Culp. Without Culp we wouldn't have been able to get here - she got us the documents to secure the freighter when we needed them, and she also was responsible for getting the ground team where they needed to go on Euphoria. So we have all played a key roll in getting here." He took a drink of water.

"Getting here-"

"You mean adrift in space?" It was Deyo -- wearing his typical black skinsuit and mirror shades.

"Yes, adrift in space. We got here due to a terrible accident with the jump drive. Mitchell tells me that it was because of an unstable bubble created by the drive's failure to function on skimmed fuel from the gas giant. Everyone knows why we had to skim fuel from the gas giant --" Mitchell angrily looked at the floor and muttered, "So I won't go into that here." Pause.

"However, we are going to ask our good engineer to help us out, as she has so many times before, by clearing out and repairing our jump drive. In the meantime, I want all normal shipboard duty assignments to be filled. Anyone off duty will report to Mitchell to see if they can be of help." At this the engineer looked up and smiled broadly.

"Deyo has found an object on the sensors out about 80,000 clicks. I want DeAlteriis to take the ship's launch to check it out - Danny and Johansen will travel with him, as will Culp, Heeswyck, and Sekula."

Nothing strange so far with what he was saying, except everyone was staring, puzzled, at Heeswyck. Hollingsworth noticed the question in the air.

"Did the rest of you think I brought Heeswyck along because he can make good spring rolls? Before he took up the job with that starliner as a ship's steward, he was a security professional on my homeworld. I've seen him do things with his bare hands that would make a Marine Corps drill instructor blush. As for the rest of the team - Sekula can do intel work, and there hasn't been the security system invented that Culp can't fake her way past. Danny and Johansen will be muscle, and of course - other than me, DeAlteriis is the only flyboy we have."

"I don't believe that I have to mention to you all what our number one priority is, over everything else that I've mentioned just now. We need a source of fuel. It will take approximately 80 volumetric tons of suitable material to fuel our jump drive for another jump out of wherever it is that we are, now. That one jump will give us approximately six and a half light years of range, so I hope Deyo will be able to figure out where we are on the star charts, and also find a nice inhabited world for us to jump to. The team going to check out the object in space -- keep that fuel requirement in forefront of your minds." A couple of murmurs, but not much was the response.

"Now, Heeswyck, I believe you have a few trays of spring rolls ready for us?"

part 3

Kyle, part 1

2005-06-30T00:01:00.000-04:00

The small band of underground fighters crouched inside the cargo container, holding their breaths and praying that this night, of all nights; a warehouse worker wouldn't look too closely at a stack of plasteel containers that weren't on any manifest.

Through the one-way mesh window of the container they watched the scene unfold on the open landing field of the star port -- watched in horror and thought of the oppression that the people of the Thousand Suns had lived under for the past twelve years.

On a temporary stage, a number of troopers and guards, all heavily armed and armored, stood guard while waiting for the luxury grav car to empty out its passenger.

"I can take him--", it was Corporal Sven Johansen, the renegade Imperial Marine who went AWOL when he found his family had been killed by tax collectors. He thumbed the safety of his combat rifle to the off position, and took aim through the laser peeps. But a firm hand gripped his shoulder, and he lowered the weapon.

"No, Sven, wait. I know you have a bill to repay, but this must be done right. Wait for him to get out and begin speaking. Then the time will be right. Then we'll have our revenge." Maj. Burnes thought of his own family; all forced into hiding when the church settlement they worked on was shut down for economic reasons. They fled, along with the monks and the rest of the settlers, to a small agro station on the large moon of Jardus VII -- proud hydro-farmers now living as refugees. All the churches had been closed, and the lands requisitioned for the new Imperial Government. Families disrupted, planets cut off, universities emptied -- all in the name of Imperial Bureaucracy.

The grav car came up to the speaking platform, and an honor guard, dressed in red combat armor and carrying sleek, expensive laser carbines, formed a cordon for the honored Imperial Person who had come to this out of the way military depot to address sector wide media reporters on the recent war victories.

The assassin known only as Celena rechecked the seating of the suppressor on her combat pistol. She had once been a Baroness, living a life of study and recreation in an orbital palace above a wildlife preserve world. Her family had been benevolent and a great patron of the arts and sciences, but nevertheless, when the new junta government had seized control of the Imperial Moot and ensconced their own Emperor - Celena's family (like all the other noble families) had to renounce their titles and possessions, and begin life anew in whatever manner they could. Celena used the tracking and survival skills of her childhood, with her understanding of animal instincts, to survive as an assassin, working for the underground.

Finally, he came into view. Wearing his trademark long black leather duster, and with his head now shaved. The Imperial tattoo on his scalp showed a contrasting read to his fair skin. The black-rimmed mirror shades reflected the bright red armour of his bodyguards, and he flashed a winning smile to the senior officers. He mounted the stage, approaching the podium.

Suddenly, the massed troopers and starmen gathered on the open field of the star port began chanting. "E-Kyle, E-Kyle, E-Kyle . . ."

The young emperor reached the podium and raised his hands into the air in a quick flash of movement, with a broad grin. The soldiers in the field went crazy at this, and began firing their automatic weapons in the air with the excitement. The gunpowder smoke from the caseless rounds filled the night air with a pungent smell, and the noise was deafening. Through it all, though, you could still hear, faintly, the unified chanting, "E-Kyle, E-Kyle, E-Kyle . . ."

In all the noise and the din, Burnes gave the shoulder of Cpl Johansen a squeeze, and said simply, "It's time."

Sven, with all the smoothness learned as a combat sniper in the Imperial Marines, took careful aim with the infrared laser peeps on his combat rifle, peering through the IR scope. He drew a bead on the head of the usurper leader - the man who took control of the one civilizing force in all the many star systems mankind had settled. In a brief instant, Johansen had a sharp pain when he thought of the Imperial Marine Corps that he lovingly served before the usurper took control of the entire Imperium. Then he squeezed the trigger.

The spray of the deadly APHE rounds should have reduced the head of the Emperor to so much jelly; instead the underground team was shocked to see just the disruption of what was a hologram. Damn! That's why they called him E-Kyle, it suddenly dawned on Burnes - they had come to a world to assassinate a hologram!

"Team, we are well and truly screwed, but if we hold our cool we can get out of here in one piece. Celena see what you can do to secure that modular cutter. Johansen, you and Marois take out that power generator. IR goggles for everyone as soon as the lights are out. Now everyone move, and I don't have to say this, but if you get immobilized you are on your own, devil take the hindmost. Good luck..."

*****

In his childhood, he would stroll about the arcology of his birth looking up into the clouds at the vast structure. From the moment of his first awareness, he knew he was born to rule such a place - a city full of humanity. More people than existed in most cities on other similar planets, and they were all his. They were owned by his family, serfs in a word. Heady stuff for a pre-adolescent, and now in retrospect it still sent an electric thrill through Lord Hollingsworth to think of it. An entire planet of 29 billion people, all sworn to the Abusheega Haut Hollingsworth family. The power over life and death. The power of a ruler, a Principe, a god.

Little damn good it did him...

"Get that shithole of a cargo deck depressurized now - and Deyo, make damned sure that our navigational beacon looks completely harmless."

The metallic voice over the intercom from the avionics chamber was sure and steady.

"Our navibeacon is true...still broadcasting...five by five...all is well."

"Danny, I want you to get in a suit and get down to the cargo deck, when they land that cutter inside us, you need to make sure they can get out without turning into jelly. Heeswyck, see what you can do to make them comfortable."

Danny was short for Dananainiewoaeeo, and his huge feline frame started blithely down the corridor. He was wearing his customary kimono with his clan's emblem on the back, and wuraji. As he neared the hatch to his chamber, he stripped down to just his lime green fundoshi, and shook out some loose fur. The humidifier problems with the life support system have been causing the big Aslan to lose fur at an alarming rate. Captain Hollingsworth meant to have words with Mitchell about that before the damned air filter system got clogged with calico fur balls.

Heeswyck, on the other hand, remained in the small cramped bridge of the ore freighter, and was slowly thinking. "I believe . . ." He walked in a small circle tapping his chin. "Yes, I can make a big pot of bisque, and a few groatl steaks, and maybe an elp stick salad. Captain, do you think the Virushi Sonata would be appropriate, or the Mozart?"

Heeswyck served as a Steward's Mate on a large commercial liner before joining the rebellion, and he put everything into terms of hosting a dinner party. It seemed to work for him.

"Doesn't cuffing matter - just get some food ready, and pronto!" Hollingsworth was getting short.

It turned out that the assassination attempt was a total botch-job that E-Kyle never really landed on Euphoria/0239 -- the whole review was done by a hologram posing as E-Kyle.

In the ensuing gunfight, Celena and Marois were dead. Celena. The very name was a discordant note . . .

But, Burnes and Johansen still lived, and they had stolen a modular cutter and were headed towards the "Rani of Lahore". The ship had been a minimal-crewed ore freighter until it was hi-jacked by Hollingsworth and his crew. Now it served as their clandestine base of operations.

Heeswyck started down the ladder way to the galley, when the hatch door on the avionics "shack" slammed open. Out rolled the usual cloud of thick smoke, and Deyo appeared wearing his usual work outfit. A black light-absorbent skinsuit, velcro'd ship boots, and a head full of IR gear. He kept the avionics/commo shack completely dark while working, and had the displays reworked to IR. Preferred to operate his console by sense of touch, and getting royally stoned before a mission didn't hurt either. Ever since the Zhodani telepath "sensed" his mind over Croder/0916 he wasn't taking any chances.

"Hello. I am PJ. You --"

"Fuck Deyo, we know it's you. Out with it."

"Well, it appears that the normal ID sensor on this ship does broadcast that we are a worthless hulk of a freighter, with half our crew being artificial persons." He refused to use the word robot now that Calixta-B9 shared his stateroom. "However...something about us being 4 parsecs from our normal run has gotten the locals VERY curious. We have a pair of Rampart interceptors heading this way."

*****

Skimming the high layers of a gas giant for reactor fuel was something only done by a man with his back to the wall. Lord Hollingsworth was such a man. He was the pickup for an assassination team that attempted to drop the most powerful man in the Orion Arm. That attempt had failed, and now he was fleeing for his life, with the remainder of the team.

They were undercover in an ore freighter called the "Rani of Lahore", and for some unknown reason, their ruse had been suspected. They were being pursued out system by a number of small Rampart fighters, and before they made the jump to inter-Newtonian space, they would have to fill the ship's fuel tanks. Creating a jump nexus required an ENORMOUS amount of fuel for the ship's drives, and it was normally available at a local star port -- or even from the wet oceans of a terrestrial world. But not when you are on the run.

So the "Rani of Lahore" decided to dip into the outer layers of the gas giant GCI-XXIII -- a Saturn like gas giant, surrounded with luminescent rings. The trip into the turbulent gasses wasn't pretty, and it usually exacted a huge tariff from the life of the ship, as well as the nerves of the crew.

Mitchell, the ship's engineer was in the drive room, cursing the captain in as many different tones and hues as she was capable, while trying to nurse the makeshift fuel filter she had devised. Didn't matter, the muck he was scooping up out of the cloudy turbulence would screw up any drive, no matter how many times it was filtered.

The crew on the bridge were being treated to the ride of their life, shaking all over the place, and being pummeled by handheld computers, coffee mugs, souvenirs from backwater worlds, and even a dirty pair of fundoshi that belonged to the chief armsman of the crew, an Aslan named "Danny".

In the middle of this horrific shaking, the nobleman Abusheega Haut Hollingsworth, captain of the "Rani" yelled out, gripping his command chair, "What the hell is that smell? Did something overturn? Someone find out if Mitchell let some of those gasses escape out of engineering!"

"Negative, Sir. It's not engineering," Ryan, ship's steward, paused his explanation, which he was shouting over the massive noise. He paused to reset and rebalance the stack of meal bowls he was delivering to the crew and passengers. It was 1400 ship time, and lunch was an hour late already -- he'd be damned if he were going to scrap 12 bowls of fresh sashimi. "No Sir," still shouting, "The smell is coming from the fresher just outside of the bridge. Turnitsa is in there, taking his daily constitutional."

"What!??! Tell him to get his ass -- never mind." Captain Hollingsworth started across the rocking deck towards the hatchway that led aft from the command section.

"Turnitsa, you damned hacker, get the hell out of the shitter! Don't you know we're almost done skimming? When we break from this giant's g-well, we'll need you to do a hot swap on the ship's computer to let Deyo get his navigationals online. Turnitsa! Do you here me in there? Get the hell out of there, pronto!"

There was a pause, then a voice, sure but quiet, came from the fresher stall - accompanied by a fresh stench. "Tyranny, like Hell, is not easily conquered."

"What? Cut the crap, programmer, and get out here."

"I'm coming, I'm coming. Wait a second while I pinch this off, and I'll be out. Damn. Sure stinks in here."

Captain Hollingsworth bounced back through the hatchway, and tried to make it back to his acceleration couch, but ended up with a pair of fundoshi smacking him in his face for his efforts.

All of a sudden, there was a crackle of static from the avionics shack, and then Deyo's steady voice came over the intercom.

"Mitchell reporting a 97 percent fill on the fuel bags...vectoring out of high atmosphere.... clearing g-well.... we should be back in normal oort space momentarily."

"Great. Someone get me Mitchell on the horn, and find out if Sekula has decrypted anything else from those journals. Deyo, when we -"

"Sir", it was the avionics intercom again, "I have located a previously unknown transponder in our own ship. I just jammed it, but it was getting a feed from our navigation system and tight beaming it. We were bugged - and only the trip through the atmosphere of the gas giant cleared whatever it was that kept me from reading it earlier. The imperials knew exactly who we were, where we were, and where we are going all along."

"Damn. Damnation. Hot jumping cheese."

"Sir?"

"Never mind - Turnitsa glad to see you back to the living. Cripes - did all that smell come out of you? Next time use the crapper down in cargo. Anyway - get on a terminal and give Deyo a hot swap to the navigational suite. We are going to jump out of this system, and pronto. Has Mitchell anything else to say that is fit for my noble ears?"

*****

Down in her stateroom-cum-office, Sekula was carefully erasing a number of records from her translation computer. She had carefully translated, and extracted the important information from half a dozen journals and logs she had brought with her, but now she thought better of it.

After all the years of oppression, all the power, all the atrocities, she still loved him. She couldn't give him over now. At least not this way. She was all for the Rebellion, but not at the price of turning over all the psychological patterns gleaned from the journals of two years he spent with her. She was willing to be Judas to Kyle the man, but not to Kyle the lover.

Perhaps if she had known that his bodyguard, Barnette, knew she had come over to the Rebellion, she'd have different ideas. Especially if she'd known about the tracking device he had implanted into her computer terminal. If she'd known that instead of turning over important information on the man who had become E-Kyle, she instead was leading his assassins and killers right to the "Rani of Lahore".

*****

Dananainiewoaeeo stood in his quarters holding up the kimono and staring at it blankly. Somehow he knew he should be able to figure out what to do with them when they were soiled, but it eluded him. So he tossed it in the huge pile in the corner, and popped open the door on his clothing closet.

In the closet were dozens of finely pressed, brand new kimonos, and assorted other accessories, all new and packed in fine paper bearing the family clan symbol of the Nainiewo family. His older brother's holding had including a manufacturing world. That was how you were supposed to acquire things - conquer and own them. He never could get used to the human idea of trade - money for goods? It seemed so female to him.

The big Aslan pulled out a fine silk green kimono with the Nainiewo starburst on the back, and with an extended dewclaw, he slashed the paper wrapper off it. When they got dirty, he just discarded them. What else would a male of the clan do with used up clothing? The more he thought about it, the more he felt like he needed a female.

There was a knock at his hatchway. "Danny - hey, Danny"

It was the human male Johansen. A good warrior, Johansen - knows about revenge and honor. Danny - as they called him - cleared his throat, preparing for a conversation in Galanglic, and said "Come."

"Hello old friend, glad to . . . uh . . . see . . ." He gingerly entered through heaps of dirty food trays, and tried not to let his expression give away what the smell of dirty clothing and swirling furballs was doing to his sinuses. Johansen made it to an open spot on the floor, near a low floor table, and sat.

"What I was saying is that I was glad to see you still here on the ship. Good that you haven't left yet. I know they are paying you, and all that, but this is not going to be a pleasant journey, for any of us."

"Herrowwl. Yes, they still pay me. What good it will do, I don't know. I really want land - holdings - domains. And all they give is credits. Still, to them it means something, so I try not to insult. I'm only waiting until I can garner enough to attract a female. In the meantime, Hollingsworth is an honorable lord."

"How much are they paying you?" In answer, Danny shrugged, and handed a small black cloth encased portable computer to Johansen

"This is incredible. With this month's haul, and the bearer interest you are entitled to, this gives you letters of credit for several million. You, my friend, have enough to buy a small moon. Two, perhaps."

"Buy, buy, and buy! What good is buy? I want to own. I need to conquer. This whole buy idea drives me crazy with confusion. Still, two moons you say? With that I could attract a female. And with a female to handle my affairs, I could then begin to REALLY grow an estate. Herrowwl..."

"Anyway, like I said, I'm glad to see you here, and still in one piece. Our mission was a failure, as I'm sure you heard. I got a very clean, perfect shot off at the target, and it turned out to be a hologram. He wasn't even there."

"I was once the partner in a large undertaking, where our mission was to guard some supplies. My counterpart was a human that did not know to respect my people, my clan, nor myself. I challenged him to an affair of honor, expecting him to duel me. I even offered to his second a choice of weapons, as he was not given a dewclaw at birth. When the time of the duel arrived, he was not present. He had hired a vagabond to dress as himself, so none would know until much time had passed, and he had safely retreated. No honor in that."

Johansen thought for a moment.

"You know, my friend, I don't believe I've ever heard a story of anyone actually interacting with E-Kyle face to face. Always through his staff or electronically, but never in person."

part 2

Arrival, part 13

2005-06-29T23:39:00.001-04:00

The sensors in the cabin of the launch showed a busy and thriving system when they emerged back into normal space. The field generator was shut down completely, and disconnected from the power systems of the launch. They started a normal maneuver in-system, heading for Pendulum.

"Do you think they realize we’re out here yet?" Cafi was smiling as she finished the corrections to the maneuver vector the launch was following.

"I’ll bet they already have. These guys are all over this system, and there’s no way we haven’t been noticed out here. The closest vessel I can find is only about 6 minutes out by radio. He’s orbiting what appears to be a very large, construction project on the largest moon of that gas giant." He was pointing to objects on his various scopes. All the traffic and installations spread throughout the system made Jon feel like a child in a candy store.

Suddenly the commo gear cackled.

"Mac, can you get that tuned in with the right frequency they’re using?"

"Boss, if it’s radio, I can get it." He started scanning the neighborhood of the message’s frequency.

"Attention unidentified vessel," The voice coming out of the radio seemed pleasant enough, "Your transponder is not working, and I was wondering if I can assist?" The accent was weird, but then it would be, thought Jon.

"Mac, explain to them who we are, and where we came from. That should get their attention."

"Right, boss. This’ll be fun." Mac was grinning.

"I don’t know about that. I think that the easy part was getting here, and now we’ve got a whole lot of work ahead of us. But something tells me we won’t be staying in this system for very long. What we did just released a whirlwind. It’ll be a long time before we see just where it blows to."

Arrival, part 12

2005-06-29T23:39:00.000-04:00

Mac woke up feeling like a meteorite had shot through his head.

"What the hell happened?" He edged up on one arm to look around, then groaned and fell back to the pillow.

After a few minutes of steeling himself against the throbbing headache, he opened his eyes and remembered.

"Oh. Damn. That looney must have had a stunner with him. Ouch!" He winced at the memory of his encounter with the stun baton. He opened his eyes again.

"Jon, Cafi. It’s very nice of you to join me. Since I don’t make it a habit of waking up dead, I take it we’re fine?"

"Good to see you Mac." Jon smiled down at him, "And, yes, we are fine. We’re actually in inter-Newtonian space. We’ve been here for a couple of days, and everything’s going just fine."

"Wow. This’ll be one for the history books, if we make it in one piece. Plenty of food, plenty of air, plenty of water? I assume we’re still heading for Pendulum? "

Cafi answered, "Yes. Iota Horologii, and we’re about half way there. Still have about seventy hours outside of normal space, but we are on our way. You need to get some more sleep though. That stun baton sent your nervous system for a ride."

"Yes Doctor. You’ll have no arguments out of me on that order." As he rolled over on the bed, he noticed that Jon and Cafi were holding hands. He smiled as he went back to sleep.

Conclusion

Arrival, part 11

2005-06-29T23:38:00.000-04:00

Jon was watching the camera, and saw the whole thing.

"Cafi, are we far enough from Hephaestus, and the moons, to activate the field generator?

"Well, yes, but you better give me a couple of minutes to re-check my navigational information. I was counting on being a hell of a lot farther out than this when we cut to inter-Newtonian space."

"Alright, do that. I'm going back there to see if I can get Mac inside, and keep that nutcase outside. If he doesn't want to float free, then we'll just activate the field with him on the outside of the launch."

"But that will...I don't know what it will do. But I'm sure it'll kill him."

"Well, he's trying to kill us. No telling what he did to Mac. I'll be in contact with the radio in my suit helmet, and when I give the word, activate the field generator."

"Sure thing Jon. One thing, though."

"Yes?" He turned to face her on the way out of the cabin.

"I need you to be careful." He started to drift towards her, but then saw on the camera that the security guard was lowering through the hatch.

"Right. Remember, on my word." He floated to the back of the launch.

Along the way, he pulled his helmet on. It had been hanging on a strap outside the command room, right were Mac's had been, earlier. When he got to the airlock hatch leading back to the engine room, he double checked the seal, and glanced at his pressure gauges to make sure. Everything was fine. In he went.

After he had gone through the air lock, he emerged into the airless engine room. As he came in, there was the guard in front of him. Jon had grabbed a large wrench. He advanced on the guard.

The assassin held out his stun baton, and lunged for Jon with it. Jon backed up clumsily. He floated back into the bulkhead. Then the assassin lunged again, and when he did, Jon smashed the baton out of the way. The free floating security guard started spinning, but Jon was against the bulkhead, so he was able to stop his reaction from the blow.

As soon as the guard was facing the other way, Jon kicked away from the bulkhead, and launched into the back of the guard. He aimed upward, and pushed the figure out of the airlock. At the last minute, he himself caught the hatch with his boot, and pulled himself back in.

"Cafi, can you hear me?"

"Loud and clear, Jon."

"Good. Look over at the camera view."

"Right." Her voice was clear and steady.

"Is our pest on the outer hull of the launch?"

"Yeah, he's pulling himself back towards the hatch."

"Great. Thanks. Get ready to activate the generator."

Jon grabbed Mac's tether and gave it the hardest yank he could, considering there was almost no gravity. It wouldn't have counted for much, but for the fact that Jon had a leg wrapped around the hatch ladder. He saw slack tether begin to pool up inside the airlock, then he saw Mac's huge form in front of the hatchway. He pulled again, as hard as he could, while holding on with his leg. The crumpled form of his friend popped down into the hatch.

"Cafi, get ready."

Jon shot up, and grabbed the hatch. Looking out, he saw the guard getting closer, maybe a meter away. As he re-ignited his torch, the glow allowed Jon to see the assassin smiling inside his helmet. He was planning on cutting through the hatch as soon as Jon closed it.

Was he in for a surprise.

Jon shut the hatch, and calmly spoke into his helmet mic.

"Alright, Cafi. Take us to a new world."

Part 12

Arrival, part 10

2005-06-29T23:37:00.000-04:00

Lech Franz had secured a magnetic grapple to the outside of the small craft. He had started using his torch to burn through the secure-bolts on the upper airlock hatch.

He felt sure that whoever was in the launch, it would be important to Chafner to take care of them. Besides, the main force hadn’t heard anything from Fedlin or Neuborn yet, so they might be trying to escape.

All of a sudden, Franz shut the torch off, as the hatch started cycling from the inside. He let the torch float free, and instead pulled his stun baton from the ring on the front of his webbing.

The hatch opened a small amount, maybe ten centimeters, and out came poking a rod of some sort. Franz laughed to himself.

Too late, he realized that the rod was a diversion, and the hatch flew open impossibly fast. Out popped a giant of a man, and he came up swinging a heavy hatch lever. The crude weapon caught the assassin on the shoulder, but the blow sent the big man from inside the launch floating away.

He was attached by a tether, but still, he floated out to its outer limit. Franz's shoulder was numb and he couldn’t move his arm, but no matter. He let the stun baton hang free on its own line; Franz then used his good arm to jerk the tethered man closer.

As the man started floating closer, Franz reached for the stun baton with his good hand, and held it at the ready. He could imagine the feeling of helplessness as the big man floated right into the stun weapon.

Part 11

Arrival, part 9

2005-06-29T23:36:00.001-04:00

"Alright, Cafi, here we go. Slowly ease us out of the station. The last thing we want to do is collide with that Sarlight cutter."

He sat in his usual seat in the launch, and she was at his left hand. She was the better pilot. She was also the better mathematician. In fact, given a few more years, she'll probably be a better physicist, he thought.

Mac Starr was in the back, making sure the power plant of the launch was fine. This would be a hell of a trip to find out that one of the fuel cells was acting up. He also double checked all of Jon's connections between the field generator and the outer hull of the launch.

"Jon, really. When have you ever known me to collide with anything?" She had lost her earlier nervousness, and now was her normal feisty self. It made both of them feel good.

"Just the same, I'm going to switch on the outside cameras. Better safe than sorry."

The view panels on his side of the compartment began flashing images of the outside of the launch, at various angles.

"Boss, this device of yours back here has gotten the best of me. I'd feel better if you came back to take a look at it."

Jon clicked on the message system, and replied.

"Sure thing, Mac. But I want you to come up here and keep an eye on things. Cafi's got her hands full piloting, and as soon as we're free from the station, I want you to jettison the two beacons. I'll be back there in a minute." He clicked off the messenger, and unbelted from the console.

Floating back to the rear of the launch, he saw Mac coming his way. Mac had a pair of zero-gee boots on the outside of his pressure suit, and was walking, clumsily, towards the front.

"Boss, I don't know how you can float around like that. I feel too much like a goldfish every time I do it." Jon smiled.

"Its okay, Mac. With your size, I don't think you'd float too well anyway. Just get up front, and pop those beacons out as soon as you can. We don't want to take any chances."

Jon went back, and was double checking all the connections from the launch's hull to the field generator. They brought both remaining devices on board, and had them hooked up. Experience had taught them all that redundant systems were a must in space, and especially when their lives would depend on it.

As he was finishing up, he heard a yell from the command cabin. He pushed off and a few seconds later, he floated in through the hatch behind where Mac was sitting.

"What is it?"

"Damn, boss. Some nut case from the security cutter was jetting over to the station, then vectored down to us. He's grappled on to the outside of the launch, and I think he's trying to get in."

"What?? You're right. I can see him there on the upper aft camera view. Lock that in, so we can keep an eye on him. Cafi, how long until we are free from the station?"

"We're free now. Just before he saw our little visitor, Mac had popped out the two beacons. If we want to, we can burn away from the station at your heart's desire."

"Do it. In the mean time, I'll go back and see if I can get that crackpot off the top of the launch."

"No, boss. You stay here. This is one time when my size will pay off. I'll go take care of him."

And before Jon could answer, Mac had pulled free from the chair, and tried to float towards the back of the launch. Along the way he slammed into a couple of bulkheads, but kept going.

Part 10

Arrival, part 8

2005-06-29T23:36:00.000-04:00

Lech Franz adjusted the webbing gear on the outside of his pressure suit for the third time. He sat alone in the command shack of the security cutter, watching the two hour old broadcast from Noah Chafner. It was directed privately to him.

"Lech, I know you've been a very faithful friend, and a great asset to the corporation. However, this is very different. I am asking you--no, telling you. This has to be done with absolutely no mistakes. The two scientists, Jon Fedlin and Cafi Neuborn are the main targets; they’re the ones responsible for the research. However, their data must also be secured if possible; otherwise destroyed. The rest of the research station, as well as the remainder of the scientists, are inconsequential."

He stared with his usual unflinching steel look. Chafner had called on him before; every time it involved killing, he used the word friend.

"This is very important to us all, Lech. And I know you'll be pleased with your bonus on this mission. Chafner out."

Franz clicked off the message panel, after making sure that the transmission was erased, and pulled on his helmet. He'd secure it himself, didn't trust anyone else.

After double checking all his gear, he ensured the airlock seal out of the shack was secure, and then he opened the hatch to the outside of the cutter.

His job was to be the special reserve in this operation. He was to enter the station from the outside, find two renegade scientists, and kill them. He spun away from the rotating cutter, in time with the spin of the station, and when he was at a safe distance, he activated the EVA jets on his suit.

Part 9

Arrival, part 7

2005-06-29T23:35:00.000-04:00

"So what do we do?"

"I don't know, Cafi, I don't know. Go ahead with our original plan, I suppose." His eyes were red with worry. And it had been--what? Two, maybe three days since he had any sleep. He didn't remember and didn't want to think about it.

"Boss, I'm coming with you. And I out mass you by 50 kilograms, so I don't think it's a good idea to try and stop me." Mac was not budging. And in truth, Jon thought, I'm glad he's here. He gives me a little security.

Jon thought for a moment. The other two remained silent. They're looking to me for guidance, he thought. So this is what it means to lead in a crisis, huh? It’s a lot different than trying to herd a handful of graduate students towards a set of publishable results in a cushy corporate lab.

"Okay. This is what we're going to do. The Sarlight security cutters are still maybe 40 minutes from docking. It'll take them that long to synchronize with our spin, and come along side. In the meantime, I propose that the three of us take the launch out. We can kick out a beacon that will start signaling an SOS signal for the space station; at least for a few minutes before it gets jammed. That ought to keep them from doing anything stupid to the rest of the research team. If word gets out that Sarlight Corporation did anything to a couple dozen scientists on a research station, there'll be a tribunal that not even Noah Chafner can slime out from under."

"Right, Jon, right. They'll be safe, but what about us? What are we going to do in a launch against a cutter full of armed security guards?" Her voice cracked slightly. Now she wasn't even trying to hide the nerves.

"We'll just have to try the field generator. If we cut to inter-Newtonian space, especially after kicking out a second beacon with copies of all our research data, then Sarlight can't hide it. There's no way they can bury this, there will be too many people who know. The old man paid with his life to give us the data on Iota Horologii. I think we should go there."

"What!?!?" Cafi leaped to her feet, with blazing eyes. "You can't be serious! Generating a field in the launch is one thing; after all I thought you were talking about a million kilometers or something. But trying to go across 21 light years? Are you nuts?"

"It should be fine. With the information that we have, I've been running predictions ever since I got the data from Nasser Sarlight. We know about everything between our star and theirs. We already had data on our own oort cloud. You remember it was your idea. After all, you said, one day we'll want to travel out of Kappa Fornacis space. That day is today, Cafi. Today we go back to the stars."

She stood in front of him, and he could see the fear.

"Boss," Mac was grinning with the excitement, "I hope you're right about this. But if you're not, there's going to be a bunch of pissed off members in the Iceteroid Research Society. I'm supposed to read a paper next month."

Part 8

Arrival, part 6

2005-06-29T23:33:00.002-04:00

Ten hours had passed. But it felt like a hundred. Everything related to Jon's experiments had been removed from the cargo pallets, and moved over to the launch. Along with all his computers and data records, he also pulled in the instruments of the remaining two test probes he and Cafi were going to work with.

He took the time out to explain to Cafi what he had in mind, and then they were getting loaded into the launch.

Somewhere along the way, Mac figured out what was going on, and he insisted on coming with them.

Jon was adjusting the straps on a couple of last minutes cargo containers that he had brought on board.

"Is that going to be enough?" asked Cafi. Jon could see her effort at trying to remain calm. It was a poor effort, given away by the tremor in her voice.

He stood still and looked at her. "Cafi, it'll be fine. We both know that the field generator works. Sarlight wouldn't have just sent us that information out of the blue. I'm sure he's trying something back home, some sort of power play with the board, or with the share holders, or something."

"I know, Jon. It's just so exciting. I mean, what if it works? We'll be the first to do any faster than light travel since the ships from Earth stopped coming. The first!"

Up the loading ramp to the launch ran Mac Starr. He was out of breath.

"Boss, there's something very important on the message panel. Nguyen is getting the rest of the team ready to depart when the cutters get here, so the commo room is empty." After he got it out, he bent over, hands on knees, and breathed hard. The poor guy must have ran all the way from the commo room.

"Thanks, Mac. Hey, listen, why don't you take a break here with Cafi for a few minutes. I'll head down to commo and check it out. I'll call back if I'm going to be a while."

"Okay, boss. But I wouldn't count on calling. That's why I came out here to tell you in person, instead of calling on the intercom. They're doing something to our communications gear, and we can't get anything out."

"What? Alright. Well, in any case, I'll be back in a few minutes."

All the way to the commo room, Jon Fedlin was trying to figure out what could be so important that they felt the need to jam their communications. Sure, shutting down his experiments was important to the Separatists, and also to the board, if what Sarlight said was to be believed. That explains why so many of them supported the Separatist movement. But why would they jam the communications of a crummy research station?

He found his way to a comfortable seat in the commo room, and found the frequency that Mac had told him about. And he couldn't believe his eyes. It was a news broadcast, and while shutting down the rest of the station’s communications, the Sarlight security team made sure that this broadcast reached the scientists.

"Today, in a confusing sequence of events, Nasser Sarlight made a public announcement that he was going to exercise control of the family shares in Sarlight Corporation. This would have given him sole control of the system-wide shipping firm. Then, shortly later, the Sarlight family's private research firm made public the fact that it had access to plans for building several interstellar capable starships. And, in fact, that it was funding research making such a device practical."

Jon could hardly breathe. In fact, he felt as if he had to force himself to.

"Shortly after that announcement, a series of devastating explosions have been recorded at the Sarlight family estate. Explaining this bizarre sequence of events is Noah Chafner, the director of the board of Sarlight Corporation."

Jon bent forward on his seat, staring intently.

"I am very, very sorry to bring news to the world at large that it seems as if there has been a strange discrepancy with the senility medication that our dear founder, Nasser Sarlight was being prescribed. It seems to have culminated in a bout of dementia. We have for some time suspected this, and even now our legal firms are investigating claims against the Arness Corporation, manufacturer of the medication . . ."

They murdered him. They murdered the old man. And they know that I have his last message. That's why they are jamming us, to keep me from sending the info to anyone else.

Just like Mac, he was completely out of breath when he got back to the boat deck.

Part 7

Arrival, part 5

2005-06-29T23:33:00.001-04:00

It was a tight beam burst, so it didn't include any video. However, as soon as he began playing the message, it called up a stock image and displayed it.

It was an elderly man, but with the twinkle of youth in his eyes. Deep, dark skin--tanned almost orange. And white hair, closely cropped, with a matching beard and mustache. Nasser Sarlight.

"Jon Fedlin. Glad to make your acquaintance, well, sort of. They tell me that this message will be over two hours in transmission to your lab station, so I won't be expecting a response."

"As you know, I am the surviving family owner of Sarlight Corporation, or that's what my legions of accountants and lawyers keep telling me. In fact, a lot of people tell me a lot of things, but all I really know is that I don't have anything to do with the company anymore, that damned board does."

"Now, to get to the point of why I am sending this message, it's because I like you. My grandfather founded Sarlight to help economic growth on Calefactor when the Dominion starships stopped coming. It seemed that since their interstellar drives were controlled technology, none of us meager colonists were allowed access to it. Of course, nobody ever thought that the Dominion would collapse from within, and the starship program would be cancelled by anti-technology rebels. So we were forced to make due here on our world, with the resources available."

"But, we never intended to stay here forever. That idea has become the desire of the separatists that have slowly taken over in recent years. But I disagree with them. That's why they forced me to step down from my own board. I prefer the idea of reaching out - always reaching out. Trying to get out of this system, and re-contact all those worlds out there where Humanity has settled. That's why I'm sending this message to you."

"Some time back, while I was still on the board of the corporation, we got information from the colony at Pendulum. They sent us a great deal of information about their star, Iota Horologii, and also the information about their system, in case we were working on any plans for interstellar flight. They wanted to--wanted to badly. But as you probably know from the difficulties in your own work, working out the details of covering distances faster than the speed of light is very, very difficult. Anyway, with your work, I thought you might find the data useful. It's terribly controlled, and against all sorts of Corporation guidelines and laws for me to be sending this to you. But if an old man can't entertain his dreams, what's he still alive for? You'll find the data along with this message. I hope it's useful. Sarlight out."

Damn.

"Mac, get in here. I need you to unload all those boxes I just loaded onto the cargo pallet - as quick as possible. And tell Cafi I need her to get the launch ready. I have an idea that could get me arrested and locked up for a very long time. But only if I'm wrong."

"Sure thing, boss. Is it anything I can help with?"

"Maybe, but first I'll need to talk to Cafi. Can you tell me how long before those cutters arrive?"

"About twelve hours. Does that give you enough time for whatever it is you are cooking up?"

"Probably not, but we'll soon find out."

Part 6

Arrival, part 4

2005-06-29T23:33:00.000-04:00

"So that's it, huh? You're just going to get on board one of those Sarlight cutters, and leave. All of our work, all of our data - now belongs to those narrow minded idiots!"

Jon tried not to make eye contact with Cafi, as he carried stacks of data recordings out to the boat deck of the lab station. She was furious - and rightly so. He was apparently going down without a fight.

"Cafi, you know what we are up against. They pay the bills, they make the rules. And, they are sending security guards here. Do you really think that's to make sure we all find comfortable seats on the cutters?"

"Dammit Jon. It's not like you to let anything get in the way of your science, not Sarlight, not Chafner, not anything. What's wrong this time, why aren't you doing anything?"

He put down the box he was carrying, and turned to look her full in the face.

"Cafi - you are the best friend I have here. You know me very well, and you are right. I don't want to let anything stop our work. But right now, as the director of this station, I am responsible for these people. I don't want them to get any ideas about doing anything stupid. We've been out here, acting independently for long enough that we've forgotten that we are all employees. And the last thing I need is for one of Sarlight's employees to do something stupid and throw a punch at a Sarlight security guard."

"But-"

"But, I have also started sending letters of inquiry to all the other corporations, and some of the private institutions. We'll be able to continue what we've done here somewhere else. It’ll be alright."

"I suppose. That'll take forever and you know it, but if that's all you can do, then that's it." She turned, briskly, and walked away.

Just then Mac came trotting up behind Jon.

"Hey boss - there's a private transmission coming in for you, I'm having it saved and decoded. It'll be up on the console in the communications room in a few minutes."

"Thanks, Mac. I'll be there as soon as I drop off these boxes."

Part 5

Arrival, part 3

2005-06-29T23:31:00.000-04:00

Right on schedule, a communication burst came through from Sarlight, back on Calefactor.

Jon settled back into his chair, ready to receive whatever they had for him, and as soon as enough of the message burst arrived, he began to play it.

It was from Noah Chafner, the current head of the board. Ever since Nasser Sarlight retired from actively running his family's corporation, Noah had been at the helm. And he was one of the strongest supporters of the Separatist movement.

"Jon Fedlin, this message is for you. As you know the board has decided to terminate all funding for your experiments, and to close down Sarlight-12. You and the rest of your team will depart Sarlight-12 as soon as the cutters arrive. To assist in your departure and the retrieval of all research materials, we have sent along a team of security personnel."

"We have good news for you and your team of researchers. Sarlight has found positions for all involved, technicians and researchers, at the hydrogen processing center in high orbit above Hephaestus. Suitable projects and fields of study will be made available to all involved. The Sarlight Corporation continues to appreciate the hard work you provide for all Calefactor, and wishes to convey a warm thank you to all team members. This is Noah Chafner, signing off."

Jon watched as the message ended, and the burst was safely stored away. Then he sat there and stared at the console for a long, long time.

Chafner didn't even mention the incident with the probe dropping onto the gas giant's moon. Apparently it didn't matter. Why should it, Jon thought, after all, they would all be safely on their way back under the thumb of the board in a day or so. Then all of his work could be locked in a box. The separatists could safely ignore the fact that interstellar flight really was possible again. Similarly, they could also ignore that humans were capable of re-contacting worlds outside of the Calefactor system -- and communicating and trading with them. That, of course, made the corporations like Sarlight very nervous.

Part 4

Arrival, part 2

2005-06-29T23:30:00.000-04:00

"So we have two whole days left before the cutters get out here." Cafi was making a couple of last minute adjustments to the sensor satellites that they had arrayed out in the high orbits over the gas giant. All of them were on the dark side of the gas giant, as the research station itself was. With relays they were in contact with Calefactor, but there was a delay of about 2 hours. Direct communication was a bit slow.

"Yes. That should give us enough time to finish out this last test run of the probe. If we're right, then this should solve the accuracy problem." Jon was staring at his portable terminal while speaking, but looked up for her reaction.

"And if we're wrong?" Cafi had a grin on her face.

"If we're wrong, then it doesn't much matter, does it? They'll be here in two days." He sat down to his place at the terminal desk, and started to double-check the settings of his communications suite.

"So let's hope we're right. Everything is ready on my end."

"Okay. I just issued the launch signal. We'll see what happens."

There was a delay of about 4 minutes. Then the image on Cafi's sensor that represented the probe disappeared.

"It's stuttered out. Now let's keep an eye on the Hephaestus Seven to see if it shows up."

A further delay. Neither of them broke the silence. All of a sudden, there was an image on the sensor, very close to the seventh moon of the gas giant.

"There it is. Wait--damn! It's gone." She was rechecking her sensor settings, as quickly as her fingers could navigate the console.

"What happened? It appeared, didn't it?" He had gotten up from his terminal, and strained to look at her instruments.

"Yeah. You're not going to believe this. The probe came out of stutter space, but it came out inside the gravity well of the moon -- less than a 1000 kilometers away from our prediction point. That's great, isn't it? I mean, really, really accurate."

"Yes, the accuracy is great, but the fact that it appeared inside the gravity well is terrible! There's an automated mining center on that moon, with communication satellites circling it constantly. I guess that will just about kill any chances we had of keeping this a secret. In about three hours we should hear a nasty message from Noah Chafner."

He saw her smile fade, but only slightly.

"Well, Jon, I guess we should have aimed for something other than a moon. But who could have guessed we’d have been that accurate? Anyway, I believe you've proved your theory."

"A lot of good it'll do me. As soon as those cutters get here, all of my research will belong to Sarlight."

Part 3

Arrival, part 1

2005-06-29T23:18:00.000-04:00

"So there it is. Sarlight Corporation has decided that it no longer wants to fund our studies of para-velocity acceleration, and we are all supposed to ship home to wait for re-assignment."

"But what about our side work? I've been keeping an eye on the iceteroids out here for two years, and now I'm supposed to drop it all?" It was the mineralogist, Mac Starr. His work wasn't germane to the acceleration experiments, but still, Jon Fedlin had made room for him on the research station. And Jon had carved off a piece of funding for Mac’s iceteroid probes.

"Mac, you know that's not official. Any more than my side work is. But we can't expect Sarlight to keep paying us to stay out here. Especially for what, in their eyes, are personal indulgences." That wasn't exactly fair, and he knew it. The main reason that they had fallen out of favor with the Corporation was because of Jon's side experiments, not Mac's or anyone else’s.

His work involved using residual findings from the laboratory station's official work, to prove his own theory. The theory was not entirely his, nor entirely new. But it was reasonably sound. The premise was that there exists a region of folds 'between' normal Newtonian space, and that it's possible to navigate across the folds. The 'official' work of the laboratory was to play with acceleration without time dilation, and touched on the space-folds idea somewhat. So, on the side, he ran simulations, planned his own run of tests, and experimented with equipment to navigate the folds of space.

What made the Corporation not approve of such work were the Separatist members of the board. Ever since the last FTL ships from Earth stopped coming about 200 years ago, there had been a number of different viewpoints and movements among the leaders of Calefactor to give up on re-contacting the worlds of the now-defunct Terran Dominion. Over the past few years these movements had gotten much worse, to the point where the Separatists proposed forgetting completely about all other worlds. Their success in spreading this viewpoint was so broad, that they even stopped the public sharing of data broadcasts from other Dominion worlds. For some reason, they felt that beamed news from another world, even if it was 30 or 40 years old when it reached Calefactor, would hurt their plan of isolation.

"I am sure that the corporation already has an idea of where they want to reassign us." Jon continued, "Every member of this science team is an expert in his or her own field, and we are much too valuable to Sarlight for them to just cut us loose. However, having said that, I wish to say that I will personally see about private funding for my own research work. Anyone who is interested in helping this effort please let me know in the next day or so. Meanwhile, Sarlight is sending a couple of Cutters out this way to retrieve us, and our research data. They are effectively shutting down this station, and we are being sent, temporarily, to the hydrogen facility over Hephaestus."

As Jon spoke, Cafi Neuborn was showing slides on the big communications panel behind him. As his partner on the project, she knew ahead of time some of what he was going to say, and now she showed an image of the large greenish gas giant, Hephaestus; one of two orbiting Kappa Fornacis. Their home, Calefactor, was the second world in orbit around the star, and past that there was a planetoid belt, and the two gas giants, Vulcan being the giant nearest the sun, and Hephaestus was the farthest body out in the system. That was part of the reason for basing their research station near one of the moons of Hephaestus - it would give them room to operate with their high speed probes and ships.

"Well, boss, if you get some private funding, then I'm with you. The last thing I want to do is end up working on some gas pumping station over Hephaestus." Mac was the most vocal, but the rest of the research team murmured approval.

Part 2