Human Chronicles Part 2 Book 3: A Galaxy to Conquer (4 page)

Sherri was about to respond until Chief Rutledge suddenly jumped to his feet. “Will the two of you shut your traps? The Captain’s right. The SEAL’s go in, and we go in alone. All you back on the ship will play a vital role in the mission, so stop your bitching. This will be a team effort, so start acting like part of the team!”

Sherri clamped her mouth shut and clenched her teeth. When she spoke again, she was looking only at Rutledge. “You’re right, Chief. Sorry. It’s just that I want to pull my weight around here. Riyad’s my friend, too.”

“Understood, ma’am, but we each have our designated roles to play, and yours is to run the show from orbit. You will be our eyes and ears.”

“And what do you call our role in the upcoming adventure, Mr. Rutledge?” Trimen asked, concerned that he and his Formilians were being ignored in the current conversation.

Rutledge grinned, while being careful not to expose his teeth to the aliens. “If the plan unfolds as Mr. Cain has detailed, then you will be the ants at the picnic ... and just the cover we need to get Mr. Tarazi home safe and sound.”

Adam shook his head as he watched the expressions on the faces of the aliens. Somehow he didn’t think the Chief’s comment helped to clarify things very much.

Chapter 4

F
inding a single Tel’oran out of several billion was a daunting task, so much so that Kaylor had pleaded with Adam to let someone else do the job. Yet in the end, the Human had been persuasive, reminding him that a Belsonian and a Fulquin would not draw as much attention as either Humans or Formilians would parading around the planet Tel’or. But what really sold him on the assignment was the opportunity to pilot the
Pegasus
to the planet.

Kaylor and Jym had never been aboard a concentrated-array spacecraft before, let alone been at the controls. And even though Adam regretted not being able to take the ship to the Juddle Nebula himself, he knew she would be in good hands with Kaylor at the helm.

Both the
Pegasus
and the Formilian starship
99012
had departed Formil at the same time—like most other alien species, Formilians did not name their ships. Yet with the added speed of the
Pegasus
, Kaylor and Jym arrived at Tel’or a full eight days sooner, and that was without even opening the ship up to her full potential.

As Adam had explained, it was imperative that the Tel’oran pilot Ruszel Crin be located prior to the team’s arrival at the Nebula. Ruszel was the only reliable source for locating Elision through the treacherous and tumultuous environment of the Nebula, and they didn’t have time to waste seeking him out after reaching Tel’or, knowing of the impending arrival of the Juirean fleet in the region.

It was also Kaylor and Jym’s job to convince the Tel’oran pilot to help. Short of that, Adam had authorized them to use whatever means necessary to secure said pilot for the trip through the Void and into Kracori space.

Normally using these two particular aliens for such an assignment would have been problematic, to say the least. The tall, slender Belsonian and the short, bear-like Fulquin were not known for their physical prowess or ruthless determination. And yet the Artificial Telepathy Devices they each had implanted under their skin changed all that—especially for Jym.

Although known to be grumpy and outspoken, most other species regarded the Fulquins to be simply a breed of amusing and harmless pets. Even though they were skilled technicians, specializing in electronic devices, their furry black faces and small stature caused none to see them as physical threats. And in the savage Milky Way Galaxy, without physical intimidation, you had nothing. As a result, Jym had embraced his ATD so much more than had Kaylor, being obsessed with finding all the marvelous things the device could do to help him even the playing field with more dynamic races. Jym was now arguably the foremost expert in the use of the device, behind only Adam Cain.

Kaylor could understand what Jym was feeling. He, too, felt an awesome new confidence in nearly everything he did. Even piloting an advanced spacecraft such as the
Pegasus
became child’s play, as Kaylor was able to monitor all the ship’s systems with much more accuracy and ease, allowing him to guide the ship with less conscious effort. The ATD—linked directly to his thoughts—could tap into all the ship’s systems on a level Kaylor had never imagined, giving him much more control and with quicker reaction times. He literally felt as if he was one with the ship.

And so it was with trepidation that Kaylor set the
Pegasus
down on the surface of Tel’or, and therefore exposing the ship to all kinds of added interest and scrutiny.

A Formilian ATD had a maximum range of only about half-a-mile; however, Adam Cain had found a way around that limitation. He discovered that the ATD was capable of sending his thoughts—and subsequently his control—over normal communications lines, be they primitive radio waves or Continuous-Wormhole links, allowing the ATD to operate even over galactic distances. So Jym set up a continuous signal between the communications system aboard the
Pegasus
and their ATD’s. This way the two pilots could monitor the ship while even being halfway around the planet Tel’or, and thereby protecting it from intrusion by curious natives.

With the
Pegasus
now secure, Kaylor and Jym set out looking for the Senior Guild Pilot Ruszel Crin. They began their search in the Tel’or capital city of Saf’in, where the Trade Guild was headquartered. It was from here that pilots were dispatched to guide
Outers
and locals alike through the deadly and unforgiving region of space known by the natives as the Silvean Nebula, and on the star charts as the Juddle Nebula.

It had been a little over four months since Ruszel sent his message to the Formilian Speaker Arieel Bol, informing her of Riyad’s capture. Since then, there was no telling where Ruszel could be. Jym had efficiently tapped into the Guild computers using his ATD, but found no mention of the pilot. Even the local residents’ directories came up blank. Their only remaining option was good old fashion boot-leather to find the elusive Tel’oran.

Having been a space-faring merchant for over forty standard years, Kaylor knew how spaceports operated, and he knew where to find ships’ crews when they were in port and off-duty. So after scouring a half-dozen of the most popular taverns outside the gates of the main landing field, they finally struck pay dirt.

“Ruszel! Of course I know of him, the
impedium scumcup!
He comes into an incredible amount of
ruiens
and then abruptly walks out without even a courtesy credit my way. We’ve flown together many times; you would think he would look out for his fellow pilots.” The green-skinned native was obviously intoxicated, and therefore free with this talk. His name was Kankus and he had to be over a hundred Tel’oran years old.

“So where did he go?” Kaylor asked, chugging on a strong intoxicant himself, while Jym suspiciously eyed every other patron in the bar. Between listening to the old pilot ramble on about what a rotten bastard Ruszel was—and watching Jym send teeth-baring snarls at anyone who looked at him for more than a second—Kaylor wasn’t sure how this night was going to play out. This old pilot was the first real lead they’d found in over seven days of searching, and Adam and the rest of the team were now only one day out. However it looked as if Jym’s newfound confidence and belligerence might interrupt the interview....

Kaylor was somewhat relieved to see that none of the Tel’oran natives reacted to Jym’s snarls, meaning they didn’t treat the baring of teeth as a life-challenge, as did most of the galaxy. Unfortunately, there were other races represented in the bar other than Tel’orans, and already Jym was causing some of them to stir.

The old pilot spoke: “He and Canos quit the Guild and have taken their bloodlines to
The
Lakes
, along with his fancy new ship.”

“Where are
The Lakes
? We are new here.”

“Then why are you asking about Ruszel? He is no longer a pilot, and if you require one, I am available for private hire.”

Around the main spaceport, Kaylor had picked up rumors of another ship like the
Pegasus
that passed through a few months before.
Could this be Riyad’s ship, the
Ifrit? Kaylor wondered.
If so, then how did Ruszel come to possess it?

‘We seek Ruszel in regards to the ship he now owns,” Kaylor improvised. “There is a title issue that we are seeking to resolve.”

“Scumcup!”
the Tel’oran pilot spit out, spraying Kaylor with a partial mouthful of bitter intoxicant. Unconcerned, the alien continued. “I hope you yank that ship right from him. He was such a
scumcup
telling us all about what a superior ship he now possessed. So he could not own it in reality?”

Kaylor picked up on the line of thinking by the old pilot. “That is a possibility, yet we must confront him first. So where are
The Lakes
?”

“North of here, just at the base of the Esesian Mountains. It is an exclusive region most commonly reserved for Guild managers and directors and not for overly-fortunate pilots! Did he really receive that ship and the credits in return for a single fare? I know there are beings within the Expansion with credits to spare, yet this was beyond belief.”

“He may have stolen it,” Kaylor said, glad to see an even more animated response from the pilot.

“In that case, I will personally guide you to where I believe he is now residing!” Kankus said. “And if you allow me to see the look on his face when you confront him, I would be forever in your debt!”

“Our transaction with Pilot Ruszel will have to stay private, yet if you guide us to his location, we could pay you a thousand ruiens.”

Kankus nearly fell off his seat. “Of course—a thousand—that would be acceptable.” And then he paused. “Half in advance?” he said with a question mark. “I have a tavern debt to clear before we leave.”

Kaylor grinned. He had been in the same situation many times before and could relate. He doled out the credits to the Tel’oran and then turned to see if Jym had started a fight—yet. Even though two sets of foreign creatures were visibly agitated at Jym’s challenges, none had acted on their anger, which only served to infuriate the tiny bear even more. Kaylor nudged his partner toward the door, with the old Tel’oran pilot bringing up the rear. It seemed that Jym wasn’t enough of a challenge to the aliens for them to bother, something that would do little for his small friend’s self-esteem. Kaylor knew it was only going to get worse from here on out.

********

Kaylor had secured a transport large enough for the three of them to make the two-hour journey to
The Lakes
in relative comfort, even though most of the trip was spent with the windows down to relieve the cockpit of the rank odor of Kankus’ intoxicant-laced breath.

As it was with most societies of advanced beings, wealth had its privileges, and
The Lakes
was everything you would expect from a conclave of the planet’s elites. The roads throughout the sprawling complex were extremely wide, bordered by manicured landscaping of lush green grass and tailored trees, now ablaze with the vibrant colors of springtime on Tel’or. All the homes were separated by several acres, many with tall security walls and iron gates through which were revealed extremely long driveways leading to massive, low-slung domiciles. Tel’oran homes were constructed with outwardly sloping exterior walls, providing a sheltered area around the perimeter under expansive rooflines that soared high to a zenith above the central point of the home. Inside would be a voluminous great room with a ceiling easily a hundred feet high.

The pilot Kankus directed the trio to a gate leading to Ruszel’s current residence—one of the largest, if not
the
largest, residence in the entire subdivision. A camera attached to a long support extended out from the security wall next to the gate and scanned the transport from both the driver and passenger sides.

“Kankus, is that you?” came a disembodied voice from hidden, stereoscopic speakers.

“Yes, my friend. I have come to pay you a visit.”

“And who is that with you?”

“Fellow travelers who are intrigued by your tales of adventure; they may even wish to profile you in the Library.”

Kaylor wasn’t surprised by the effortlessness of the Tel’oran’s lie. Merchant traders and pilots were often quick with their tales, a necessary talent when negotiating entry—or exit—from difficult situations.

“Please enter, Kankus. I will welcome the diversion.”

The gate silently slipped to one side and Kaylor drove the transport up to the front portico of a fabulously ornate building. With such a variety of different habitats found throughout the galaxy, one being’s mansion could be another’s waste dump, yet even by Kaylor’s Belsonian standards, this structure was massive and impressive. How the Senior Pilot came to afford it was still a mystery to both he and Jym, their only clue being Kankus’ mention of his fortune and spaceship coming as the result of a single fare. That fare had to be Riyad Tarazi, Kaylor reasoned, and if the Human had been carrying a wealth in native currency on his mission—as were they—then the source of Ruszel’s newfound gains became obvious.

Kaylor had been very slow at learning how to use his ATD effectively, and the fact that he and Jym were on a separate starship from the rest of the team meant that they had to learn their lessons remotely. This hindered Kaylor’s progress even more. And yet the single-most important ability of the telepathy implant proved to be the detection of energy weapons, along with their subsequent disarming. This talent the two aliens—Kaylor included—had mastered, which gave the diminutive Jym his often reckless confidence in confronting overwhelming force.