THE VROL TRILOGY (13 page)

He had only gone on a few dates in his life,
and none of them ever looked like this. Although intelligent and
well spoken, he generally turned into a bowl of mush around
attractive females. He instantly regretted never having served on a
ship, as scientific women never possessed this level of beauty.
They were more…. plain.

Draagh looked up and slowly arose from his seated
position on the loading ramp.

"My friends - please. There is no need for any
weaponry. Come in, come in," as he beckoned them by making inward
sweeping motion with his arm and half bowing at the same
time.

The girl didn't budge and the man with her
remained stoic and silent.

"We are not here to go
in
anywhere. Gunnarsson,
surrender or you will be shot where you stand. Or, if you like, I
can start with you, Earther," she growled as she glared at
Draagh.

She trained her weapon on the old man's chest,
but he started slowly moving toward her - his opened, mid-length
jacket flowing behind, while Max stayed frozen on the loading ramp,
unable to move. In fact, he tried to move, but he was somehow
paralyzed. Draagh kept walking over to the two newcomers, when Max
heard the woman calmly speak.

"I warned you. Now you die."

Roughly 100 charges rang out from the Stinger,
hitting Draagh right in the chest. Max closed his eyes, not wanting
to watch the massacre, and would have plugged his ears with his
fingers, but was still unable to move his body.

Ok, now I'm done for. If I just sit
here maybe they won't kill me
. But he
looked up, and surprisingly enough, Draagh continued walking toward
to the other two. The woman fired off another volley with the same
results, causing the man at her side to reach over, put his hand on
her forearm and gently bring it down, causing her to lower the
firearm in the process. Draagh wasn't affected in any way; even his
clothing was unharmed.

Both looked shocked, but not terrified. They
were much too well-trained for that - but they were alarmed for
certain.

Draagh approached them within two meters and
pulled out his pipe, this time without lighting it, and said, "My
name is Draagh. Young Max here is my friend. How may we be of
assistance?"

"We are here for the fugitive traitor
Gunnarsson," the woman began, as Draagh waved her off, somehow
rendering her speechless.

"Yes, yes, I know. We all know - the terribly
dangerous fugitive, Maximilianus Gunnarsson! Look at him! Does he
look menacing to you? There he sits, practically petrified! My good
lady, he is no threat to anyone. No, no threat at all."

His voice lulled off as he turned to the
gentleman at the woman's side, and asking, "And you good sir, who
might you be?"

"I am Rear Admiral Luigi Bagatelle, here with
my junior officer, Lt. Jennifer Escalante," he boomed. "Our mission
is to apprehend Doctor Gunnarsson, who has stolen and used
Federation military technology, endangering our world and all of
Mankind."

Draagh gave them a whimsical glance, and then
turned back to Max while grinning.

"Doctor? My boy, I knew of your education, but
they call you doctor? You look barely old enough to
shave!"

It was partially true, as Max only had a very
light beard, but he did need to shave - once a week. With that,
Draagh started laughing jovially. Of course he was playing the
visitors, but he felt he needed to calm their senses before he
could deal with them in a rational fashion.

"Come, my friends, please come in. Let us sit
by the campfire and discuss our quandary."

Draagh turned around and walked to where the
campfire smoldered and snapped his fingers in the direction of the
fire pit, instantly reenergizing the smoldering embers. Sitting
down on the fallen log where he had been earlier, he looked back
toward the ship and beckoned a frozen Max to join him. Bagatelle
and Escalante simply stared in annoyed amazement for a minute or
so, and then slowly walked over, taking seats on the log furthest
from Draagh. Again able to feel his body, Max cautiously crept over
and sat next to the old man, almost hiding behind him for
protection.

"So my friends, here we are. Yes, we are most
certainly here, wouldn't you say? Now, why don't we have a little
chat about our present situation?" He looked them over
thoughtfully, and when they didn't say anything he continued
speaking.

"It seems to me that we have some sort of
misunderstanding. Max here had no intention of hurting anyone, and
I am most certain he did not hurt anyone in his quest to come to
this forsaken planet." He looked over and back at Max, who was
still cowering by his side.

"Max, you did not hurt anyone, did
you?"

Max cleared his throat. "Um…n-n-no, I didn't.
No one at all."

"Very well then," Draagh replied rather
quickly, "let's start out fresh. I am called Draagh. My actual
title is much, much longer, but I prefer a nice, monosyllabic
moniker. It helps me to make friends in an easier fashion. This is
Max, who you know, of course, and you said your names were Luigi
and …Jennifer?"

Both nodded and kept staring at the strange old
man.

"Hmmmm, and you are both from Azul?"

Again, both nodded… and continued
staring.

"Excellent! You see? We have a lot
in common. We all have names and noses. So let me tell you a bit
about myself. I am not an
Earther
, as you called me, young
lady. In fact, I come from a distant place, and I arrived here to
meet up with Max, who, by the way, has a very important job to
complete and cooks an excellent-"

"Wait!" yelled Bagatelle, interrupting Draagh
and nearly causing everyone else to jump. "Are you here for the
hook drive? Because if you are, I warn you that-"

Draagh made a small waving gesture with his
hand, and Bagatelle's speech stopped instantly. The rear admiral
put his hand to his mouth, touching his lips, as if they had gone
numb.

"No, no, no, my dear sir - quite the contrary -
we do not plan on taking this ship anywhere, nor do we plan on
relinquishing it to anyone. We need to move on to our destination,
which is quite far away from here. Yes, quite far, indeed," he
said, while displaying a mischievous grin.

Suddenly, before anyone said anything further,
Lt. Escalante rolled back over her log and trained her Stinger on
Max, firing off multiple rounds directly at his face. However, and
not so surprisingly, not one reached the man. They stopped,
collecting a meter in front of their target, suspended in midair.
Max slumped his shoulders, having what one could only describe as a
face of resignation and immense sadness, knowing that the beautiful
military woman sought to kill him without even the courtesy of a
trial.

Both Draagh and Bagatelle stood up, but the old
man yelled, quite upset, while Bagatelle had been rendered mute for
the time being.

"Enough! That will be
enough
, young lady! We
do
not
kill
anyone here. Ever! Do you understand me?"

The old man stared the woman down, and somehow
had not only paralyzed her, but had her body pinned against the
log, looking most uncomfortable. She stared at Draagh with a
terrified expression; his gaze was so frightening it could have
penetrated quadrinium. Looking at the suspended charge rounds, he
lashed out with a sweeping backhand, causing them to scatter
through the air and land harmlessly in the bushes.

"Max, are you okay, my boy?" he asked the young
scientist.

"Yes. I… am. Thanks." Max glared at Jennie with
a look of disdain.

What a bitch
.

Draagh then did something that startled and
amazed everyone, Max not so much, but it was still an impressive
feat.

"Young lady, may I see your weapon?"

"Over my dead bod…"

Before she could finish her bravado-laden
sentence Draagh was holding her Stinger in his hand, calmly
analyzing it, after which he placed it on the ground by his feet.
It had disappeared from her hand and appeared in Draagh's - no one
understood why or how. It wasn't like she could have done anything
about it in the first place, being pinned near-sideways up against
a log. Bagatelle sat back down, still unable to speak, but it did
seem that he was going to reprimand his junior officer for
attempting to kill their prisoner - who really wasn't their
prisoner for the time being.

With his demeanor changing to one of calm, just
as quickly as it had converted to rage from Jennie's attempted
assassination of Max, Draagh looked down and saw the bottle of
Glenfiddich whisky near his feet. Smiling, he then decided he would
offer everyone a drink. Releasing the young woman from her
invisible restraints she quickly sat back on the log, eyes wide
open, with a newfound, fear-based respect for the old
man.

"Ah, this is just what we need! A toast between
new friends," and picked up the bottle. He then waved his free hand
around and somehow conjured up four small glasses, promptly pouring
a bit of scotch into each one. First he handed a glass to Max, and
then reached over to hand two glasses to Bagatelle and Escalante,
who at first declined to even move, but eventually reached out and
took the glasses. Draagh watched patiently as they simply held them
and stared back at him.

"A toast - to friends!" Draagh put down his
shot in one swig and set the glass on the log next to him,
following his drink with a refreshing "ahhhhh."

Then, with an almost disappointed look he said,
"Oh come now, my friends! We must not be rude. After all, Max
procured this fine single malt here on Earth, and I can tell you
most assuredly that it is perfectly fine. It was not contaminated
in the infection, as it was bottled long before the invasion
happened."

Looking up from his small glass of scotch,
Bagatelle stared Draagh down directly, and feeling he could speak
again said, "Ok Mr. Draagh…"

"No! Please, please - simply
Draagh
is fine. I am not
one who clings to titles, even though I have many."

"Bagatelle continued, "Ok… Draagh. Who are you,
where do you come from and what have you been doing with my
prisoner?"

Draagh gave Bagatelle a feigned look of being taken
aback.

"My dear sir, I can certainly tell you that
young Max here is not a prisoner - not yours nor anyone else's.
Why, he is just sitting here next to me, safe and sound, despite
the efforts of your lovely compatriot. Yes, quite safe and sound -
but to answer your questions, I am an observer, and sometimes a
corrector. I travel vast distances, observing, and sometimes even
righting wrongs - and writing occasional songs. Perhaps I shall
sing one for you. So, would you not say that is an admirable
thing?"

Bagatelle looked the odd, old man over and
said, "Well, it's obvious I'm not going to get a lot out of you,
but being as you took over 200 rounds in the chest at point blank
range, and by all rights should not only be dead, but resemble
something more like jraxon burger, I'll ask Gunnarsson." He then
stared Max down with a glare that would frighten any rational
military officer.

"Boy, what the hell have you done? You invented
this technology, but that didn't give you the right to take off
with it. We have to follow orders. There are protocols, and Azul
has been successful for all these years due to the fact that we
follow these rules - without exception. So explain yourself, son,
or should I say…. Commander."

Escalante immediately looked at her commanding
officer, an expression of total surprise painted on her
face.

"Sir, he is… a commander?"

Bagatelle continued looking at Max, but
responded to his gorgeous compatriot.

"Yes, Lieutenant, that is his rank.
Everyone in the military has a rank, and Gunnarsson here is
Commander
Max
Gunnarsson, of the Military Scientific Research Department. He is
the one responsible for the invention of the hook drive. His
doctoral thesis outlined the theory behind it, and he was in
command of the entire operation." Bagatelle paused briefly, and
then continued, "So Commander, explain yourself, as it appears we
have nothing to do but sit here until your friend decides to let us
take you back."

Max cleared his throat and prepared to speak.
As he did this, Jennie looked at him with total incredulity. She
wondered how someone like him - a cowering, simpering wimp - could
outrank her in the military. Sure, he had invented side space hook
technology, but him? She then did something that no one, especially
Max, had expected - she addressed the young commander.

"Commander. As you were in charge of the entire
SSCC operation, and most probably have complete knowledge of all
staffing - may I ask a question?"

Max looked at the attractive (and probably
psychotic) woman, nodding his head. "Sure, I guess. Just don't try
to shoot me again. It's doesn't really make me want to be your
buddy or anything."

"I have a friend who has been applying for
entry into the SSCC program since its inception. His name is Josh
Mannheim, LTJG. Did you ever see his name come across your
console?"