The Global
Intelligence Agency was a public-supported organization that provided
information about the other planets and nations in the solar system. Back
before the Great Colonization, the GIA had been considered the most powerful
agency in the history of mankind. At this point in time, it had outlived its
usefulness and was seen as a glorified interplanetary travel agency at best.
Only at this juncture,
it was rumored that the Allied Federation had recommissioned the GIA in this
time of national emergency. Despite media assurances to the contrary, most
citizens felt that the Interplanetary Council was in turmoil. Rumors of war
circulated throughout the Federation as spaceships were being hijacked and
destroyed as never before. Piracy was increasing at an alarming rate and it was
suspected of being encouraged by foreign governments.
Von Kilgore had
been summoned to New System City in Imperia, the center of commerce in
Panamerica. Although Serenity was the capitol city of the world, New System
City was considered the core of the Federation. It was the first city to have
been established when planet Alpha was colonized. Although the Scientific
Coalition was helping develop the Quadrant at incredible speed, the City
remained well ahead of the field and was considered the best place in the
entire solar system.
The magnificence
of its architecture and infrastructure never ceased to amaze him. He was
bedazzled by its majesty as he took the shuttlecraft from the Space Center to GIA
Headquarters located in the downtown area. Its skyscrapers stood an average of
nine hundred meters tall, glittering against the blue crystal sky and its
eternal rainbow. Unlike most of the countries throughout the solar system, the
City enjoyed nine months of constant daylight. Only during the winter solstice
did it go into day to night mode.
He took the
elevator to the one hundred seventieth level where the executive suite was
located. It was magnificently furnished in hypermodern style, its chrome and
crystal features never failing to impress. The receptionist did a retina scan
before admitting him to the inner office of the Executive Director of the GIA,
Keith Morpheus.
The Director was a
paunchy man with a beard, his blue-eyed gaze analyzing all he surveyed. Legend
had it that he was one of the pioneers of the Agency back in the day, back when
the power struggles threatened to plunge the world government into civil war. His
cyber skills and diplomatic acumen played a major role in the government’s
campaign to unite the global community for the common cause. Only Morpheus’
covert activities were never revealed or recognized. He was awarded the
government’s most prestigious honors in secret. Most felt it contributed to his
mental and physical decline.
Yet he still was a
force to be reckoned with. Although Von stood in awe of no man, he still held
Morpheus in high esteem. He sat across the desk from the Director after they shook
hands, and Morpheus studied his face briefly before commencing.
“I understand that
you turned down our offer to reassume your position as a Federal agent,”
Morpheus folded his hands over his stomach, leaning back in his chair.
“Yes sir, I’m
rather preoccupied at this particular time,” Von replied. He was a tall,
handsome man at two meters tall and ninety kilos. His auburn mane enhanced his
steely blue gaze and Cupid bow lips, his pale skin reddened on wind-swept moons
and sun-drenched asteroids. “I’ve got a merchandising company on Oryx that’s
just starting to earn credits. We’ve established some trade routes with the
Betans that are turning a profit.”
“Are you dealing with the Betan government,
with licensed traders? Or are you out there playing the black market?”
“I refuse to
answer on the grounds it may incriminate me,” Von replied with a straight face
before breaking into a smirk. “Come on, Keith. You know the Terranean tax rate
is fifty percent, and it costs five million credits to buy a traders’ license.
You have to earn a fortune on your first deal just to stay in business.
Besides, no one I know is dealing in weapons or illegal chemicals. All anyone
is trying to do is make enough to come back to earth and go corporate.”
“I’m not going to
beat around the bush,” Morpheus met his gaze. “You’re one of our best agents.
Always have been, always will be. We’re on the verge of a System breakdown with
the Stone kidnapping crisis. If we don’t recover that girl soon, the Scorpions
are going to build outposts along our borders that will lead to a gamma
showdown. They’re already deep inside the Terranean and Deltan quadrants. If
their position grows any stronger they could build enough leverage to cause an
economic depression.”
“No one wants
another war, everyone knows that,” Jon insisted. “Mankind can’t survive another
one. The entire human race is hanging by a thread. Even the Scorpions aren’t
crazy enough to take us down that road.”
“With Vernu Hyte
in control, anything’s possible. Intelligence reports indicate he’s appointed
Qom Diabolus as his Imperial Star Marshal. If that’s the case, then there’s no
doubt they intend to radicalize the entire System. We’re not just dealing with
a totalitarian regime any longer. We’re dealing with fanatics.”
“Hyte is a humanist,
he’s anti-religion,” Jon pointed out. “I read his profile on Starnet. Why would
he throw in with a bunch of religious freaks?”
“Same reason why
anyone else would,” Morpheus shook his head. “He doesn’t want to get his head
chopped off, or get hit with the Plague, or whatever else those psychos do.”
“So what’s in it
for me?”
“Intelligence
reports indicate that Sheliya Stone was skyjetting with her friends outside of
Eden City off the Paradise coast. State Police found four wrecked skyjets along
the shore, only three bodies. Two weeks later there was a message to the
Presidential Palace on Starnet. It said Ms. Stone was being held captive until
the Federation signed the Non-Aggression Treaty. A satellite scan showed that a
Deltan warship was in the area shortly before the abduction occurred. The
Deltans are denying any involvement and have placed a five hundred million
credit bounty on the kidnappers.”
“That’s a lot of
credits,” Von whistled.
“Look, we both
know that the Deltans will probably renege on the deal. We’ve got enough
leverage to make sure they pay at least half. That’s enough for you to retire
on. You could start an asteroid colony or colonize a moon in the Betan Quadrant
with that many credits. Plus the Government is offering a two hundred million
reward for Ms. Stone’s return. That is payable on demand.”
“So what’s the
downside, besides tracking down a Deltan warship?”
“This man,” Morpheus accessed his console and
booted up his desktop hologram. “Captain Gravas Drachna, Imperial Starfleet. He
fought under Star Marshal Shaver during the Cetan Civil War. He’s a war hero, he’s
earned every one of their highest honors. He’s the last of Emperor Scorpius’
Old Guard, all the rest are retired, cashiered or murdered. The Dark Knights have
taken over the Imperial Guard, and Drachna’s the last holdout.”
“What’s the Empire
got to do with this?”
“Drachna met Ms.
Stone at a Presidential banquet a couple of years ago. A diplomatic and
military delegation were invited, and observers said it was love at first
sight. They’ve met a couple of times since then and exchanged correspondence on
a regular basis despite the blackout between nations. When he found out she was
kidnapped, he went on the warpath.”
Von studied the
image of a tall, muscular man with well-styled black hair, fierce dark eyes and
a cruel mouth. He figured Drachna was about his size, give or take a couple of
kilos.
“He commandeered
an Imperial starship and went out in search of the warship. The Empire denied
the rumor, since they claim they only have three starships in accordance with
the Non-Proliferation Pact. Nonetheless, we’re getting reports of Deltan
warships being destroyed throughout the System over the past month. Drachna’s
on their trail and they’re running for their lives.”
“So I have a rogue
warship holding the President’s daughter hostage, with seven hundred million
credits in bounties on their heads. It’s probably manned by a crack team of
Deltan mercenaries, who have an Imperial starship on their tail. And I’m
supposed to get them first and collect the prize.”
“If anyone can do
it, you can, Von,” Morpheus insisted. “You’re our best agent and you’ve got
connections all over the System. The kidnappers can’t stay on the run without
fuel and supplies. You trace their credit trail and you’ll find them.”
“Okay,” he was
reluctant. “I’ll need a Federal credit line, and I’m taking Zane Ramjet with
me.”
“Of course, your
right hand man. Where would you be without him?”
About a half hour
later, Von met with Zane at the Saturn Tower a couple of blocks from the GIA
Tower Building. They met at the Galactica Lounge, an upscale facility that was
restricted to Class I and II citizens. It was located on the 140th
floor, its glass walls affording them a panoramic view of the cityscape and the
shuttlecrafts cruising above the streets at different levels.
They were irked at
getting carded but knew that it was about wearing their Class III combat
spacesuits. They ordered drinks after being seated at a corner booth and being
served by a Deltan waitress.
“I’ll tell you,
I’ve got a thing for green-tinted women,” Zane chuckled as he watched their
waitress sashay back to the service area.
“I prefer those
blue-skinned Cetans myself,” Von nodded, stirring his Chrysalis Crush. “Though
they’re getting as scarce as natural wildlife.”
“Say, you boys
need a jump?”
They looked up and
saw two green-skinned Deltan women scantily clad in tight-fitting spacesuits.
They were attractive though rough around the edges. They produced a transactor,
and Von swiped his ID stick to make the buy. The women then crawled under the
table and hooked their joysticks up to the partners’ jumpsuits. Immediately the
sensory experience of carnal ecstasy jolted their nervous system with
indescribable force.
“Damn! Damn!” Von
managed to gasp as his body began to spasm.
“Hope you enjoyed
the ride, gentlemen,” the women detached the joysticks and crawled out from
under the table. The experience was such that the partners mentally experienced
an hour of unbridled sex with the women in less than a minute.
“I don’t think
I’ll be able to finish this,” he reached for his glass as Zane slumped
lifelessly in the seat beside him.
“I’m pretty sure
it would finish me,” Zane croaked.
“You know, this
establishment frowns on that kind of activity,” a tall manager came over. “We’d
appreciate it if you reported any such solicitations in future.”
“Yeah, well, I’ll
report it now. They damn near killed me.”
“Thanks for your
cooperation,” he walked off. “Enjoy your evening.”
“So you coming in
on this?” Von asked, giving the manager the finger as he returned to the
service area.
“I think I’m gonna
pass,” Zane said softly as he stirred his Dandelion Daze. “I’ve got some family
problems I got to take care of.”
“Family problems?
Are you kidding me?” Von raised his eyebrows.
“I told you I’ve
got a sister and other relatives living along the Betan frontier,” Zane
explained. He was a swarthy man with a hawkish face and an unruly mop of black
hair, standing two meters tall with a wiry frame. “She contacted me and said
that they’ve been dealing with border raids for months now. One of my uncles
was killed last week. The Empire has been sending troops across the border on a
regular basis and the Terraneans aren’t doing anything to stop them.”
The Beta Quadrant
was ruled by the Terranean Alliance, heirs of the European Council which
collapsed after World War III at the end of the century. They were in a
constant state of flux in dealing with shortages and power struggles that kept
them in a state of near-anarchy. As a result, their territories were largely
ungoverned and overrun by pirate gangs and mercenary armies. The Empire was
establishing military outposts in Betan territory though constantly denying
their incursions before the Interplanetary Council.
“Look, we can sink
two ships with one shot,” Von insisted. “In all likelihood, the kidnappers are
hiding out in the Beta Quadrant. They’d be suicidal if they were in the Ceta or
Delta Quadrants. And they’re damn sure not in Alpha. We can go in there and
help your family relocate. We can do some recon and develop some leads while
we’re there.”
“I’ll tell you,
Von,” Zane was hesitant. “You and I have been friends for a long time. I’d
never ask you to risk your life if it wasn’t necessary. You don’t need to be
part of this. The Empire’s coming down hard in the territory. I don’t even know
if I’ll make it back. I just can’t stand by and let my family get slaughtered.”
“Hey,” Von grabbed
his wrist. “Are we brothers from another mother or what? How many times have
you saved my life? There’s no way in Sheol that I let you go alone. We get this
done, then we go find Sheliya Stone and go get paid.”
“All right,” he
agreed. “I just want you to know that I’m gonna stay there as long as it takes.
I’m not leaving the colony without them.”
“You got it,
partner,” the men exchanged hand chops. “You wouldn’t be my first mate if you
did,”
* * * * *
Over
a billion kilometers away, a Deltan warship hovered in the stratosphere above a
barren asteroid along the outermost regions of the Beta Quadrant. It had
dispatched a squadron of scavenger vessels to the surface in search of
provisions. The ship’s command was on edge, not only hoping to find sustenance
for its forty-man crew but that they would not be detected by a military patrol
unit.
“Have we made any progress with the
prisoner yet?” Captain Misch asked as he perused the scanners on the command
deck.
“None whatsoever,” his first mate Commander
Xamon replied. “She grows more resistant by the day. She demands that we either
kill her or release her. We’ve tried everything. Air and sleep deprivation,
vitamin diet, drug interrogation, and mild to moderate torture techniques. The
more she endures, the more obstinate she gets. She is like her mother, with a
head of titanium.”
“Damn her,” he said, switching on a
monitor that provided a direct link to her cell. “Citizen Stone. This is
Captain Misch.”
“Good morning,” the forlorn girl sat
hunched on her cot in the barren room. “Or is it still night time?”
“It is morning. I trust you had your
breakfast.”
“Is that what you call it?”
“Trust me, Citizen, the entire crew is
on rations at this time.”
“So what kind of Army are you people
running?” she demanded, standing up to face the video camera. She was a
beautiful woman, standing just under two meters, with an athletic full-bosomed
physique. She had long auburn hair, ivory skin, alluring violet eyes and ruby
lips. When she was captured she was breathtaking with makeup, but her natural
beauty was even more striking. It was as comparing a work of art to an
exquisite flower.
“We are quite far from our home base,
rest assured. There are many ships on alert searching for us. Yet we are
resolved to elude them as long as it takes. All we need you to do is plead with
your mother to sign the Non-Aggression Treaty. Once she agrees, we will release
you to the Federation and peace will be returned to the System along with you.”
“Never!” she raged. “I’ll never betray
my planet! Your people have violated the original agreement time and time
again. You and the Empire are trying to control the entire System, and you’ll
use military force if necessary. We have a right to defend ourselves, and we’re
not going to disarm and leave our nation unprotected.”
“I’m not here to discuss or argue
politics with you,” Misch said crisply. “I just wanted to let you know we will
be skipping lunch today.”
“You can stick it up your---!” Sheliya
yelled before she was cut off.
“This was a terrible mistake, a
horrible blunder,” Xamon was forlorn. “We should have waited for the order from
the Military Council. Now the entire System is in pursuit of us. We have
nowhere to run, no place to hide.”
“We’ve discussed this over a dozen
times, I grow tired of it,” Misch was gruff. “It was the best available
opportunity. The girl was under constant surveillance by the Secret Service. We
could have never captured her had she not chosen to go skyjetting with her
friends. It would have looked like an accident had we not shot them down over
the seashore. Yet if we had waited and fired when they were at a higher
altitude, they would have died from the fall. We would not have had to shoot
them as they fled.”
“Then we would have killed her as
well,” Xamon moaned. “What are we to do?”
“Do? What can we do?” Misch growled.
“Either this bitch makes that video or we all starve to death unless we are
destroyed by an enemy ship. If we force her to comply, the Federation ‘s analysts will detect it on the
transmission. She has to be a willing participant or the Federation will accuse
us of torture. They will sever diplomatic ties with the Republic, and we will
be court-martialed and executed.”
The Republic of Delta was a reformed
coalition of nations that once comprised the Asian Confederacy of the planet
Earth. After the Great Colonization, the Confederacy held a summit conference
on Delta and declared itself a Socialist Republic. The Republic was essentially
a military dictatorship though its political philosophy was dictated by its
corporate leaders. Both factions reluctantly conceded the fact that the
military could not run an industrial conglomerate, and vice versa.
As it was from the beginning, the
capitalist Federation was the forerunner in technological advancement as
scientists and engineers were well compensated and rewarded for their
contributions. Their society was complemented by the socialist Alliance, which
also compensated entrepreneurs though providing excessive support for dependent
colonies that ultimately hindered growth.
Alternately, the totalitarian Deltans
forced everyone to work for the State at a set wage and equal benefits. The
Empire was just as uncompromising, though more of their budget went to military
expense instead of social programs. Religious indoctrination was as the opiate
of the masses, and all who resisted were liquidated.
“What of the rumors on Starnet that
Captain Drachna is hunting for us with an Imperial starship?” Xamon lowered his
voice.
“That is nothing but capitalist
propaganda,” Misch dropped back into his defensive rhetoric. “You know that
enemies of the State will use every deception to further their agenda. First of
all, Drachna is a member of the Old Guard, all of whom have been eliminated by
the imperialist regime. He no longer exists. And even if he did, do you believe
the Empire would authorize the use of a starship to search for us? If he had
gone insane and commandeered a ship according to the reports, what crew would
have gone along with him? Upon return every single one of them would be
subjected to a slow, grisly death.”
“It’s what’s going to happen to us,”
Xamon’s voice trembled.
“Nonsense!” Misch bolted from his seat
and walked over to a far corner. “Once that girl makes the video, we will be
hailed as national heroes. She cannot hold out forever. She has been in solitary
confinement for nearly a month, living on a starvation diet. She has been
subjected to constant psychological and physical stress. After coming from her
sheltered environment, eventually this will become more than she can endure.
Time is on our side, let us remain patient.”
“I worry about you, I worry about us,”
Xamon put his arms around the waist of his domestic partner. Though the
Republic had set a hardline against homosexuality, they disregarded it in the
military due to its exclusion of women. Like ancient Sparta, the Republic saw
it as the lesser evil facing troops deployed in outer space for years at a
time.
“We will be fine, my dear,” Misch
glared around at the deck hands, who busily diverted their attention elsewhere.
“We have not come this far to meet with failure and exile. This is our time,
our destiny. This girl will be the means for our advancement, our golden
opportunity for our future together. Yeoman Chon, let the Commander see what we
have in store for our guest.”
The stout woman came forth with a
small plastic container. Xamon’s skin crawled as he beheld a tilton in the box.
The tilton was a mutated palmetto bug, genetically deformed by radiation
exposure. It was six centimeters in length and two centimeters thick, with long
hairy legs and the head of a horsefly. The ugly insect was coated with a sticky
substance that caused terrible itching, exacerbated by bites from the creature.
“I have a dozen of these insects that
I will release in her cell after we extinguish the lights. We will restore the
lights once they are crawling all over her. I have never met a female who could
stand the touch of an insect. Wouldn’t you agree, Yeoman Chon?”
The heavy-set woman cringed at the
thought.
* * * * *
The farming colony on the Herne
asteroid had begun to stir just hours earlier. Established over three years
ago, it was a haven for Class III citizens with no prospects other than bare
survival in the resettlement colonies. Living under government subsidies, they
were provided with basic agricultural machinery and a limited budget for trade
and commerce. The farmers worked from sunrise to sunset in the artificial
atmosphere, laboring to stimulate crop growth from the barren soil.
It was around noon when the workers
took their lunch break. They sipped water, doused themselves and rested their
bones as their womenfolk came onto the field with soups, stews and bread. It
was the high point of the day in most cases. At the end of the day, most of the
men were too tired to do anything but return to their homes and sleep until
dawn. Yet they shared the dream of turning a profit and one day being able to
hire others to carry on the work.
On this day, there was an ominous
droning noise coming from the mountainside. At first they thought it was a
government supply ship, but knew it was far too early in the month. They
watched in unison as transport crafts appeared from the clouds, slowly
descending until they landed just outside the fields.
They watched in bewilderment as they
saw four-man teams emerging from the transports. They wore black helmets, face
masks and cloaks over their combat suits. They carried xaser weapons and bore
the insignia of the Dark Knights. It was a black rectangle with a pentagram
against a white circle. One man carried a banner which he brought over to the
flagpole where the Alliance flag was flown.
“Hail, friends,” the leader of the
colony stepped forth. “We are having our midday meal, but we have enough to
share. I’m sure you have traveled a distance to get here.”
“We are here under the authority of
the Order of the Dark Knights,” a lieutenant came to face him. “Our mission is
to confirm your loyalty to the powers that rule over this Solar System.”
“We are loyal citizens of the Beta
Quadrant, and have pledged our allegiance to the Terranean Alliance,” the man
seemed puzzled.
“And which god do you serve?” the
soldier demanded.
“Why, we are Believers,” the man was
reverent. “We worship the One True God.”
“Sun worshippers,” he said mockingly,
turning to his colleagues. “You have been deceived by your government, tricked
into following an ancient belief system that no longer exists. Can’t you see
how they have abandoned you, cast you aside in this wasteland where you will
work until you die for nothing?”
“Our labor is beginning to yield
results,” the man smiled softly. “We have finally come to the point where we
have surplus crops to trade at the market. We may not have more than enough,
but we do have enough to give to you and your men for your journey.”
“You give to us?” the commando was
derisive. “We have ample supplies of meat and dairy products on our ship. It is
we who come to give to you. Today we bring freedom, liberation from the weak
and useless system that enslaves you.”
“We are free citizens,” the man asserted.
“We have come here of our own accord to raise our families and build a future.”
“You are building on barren ground,
citizen,” the soldier hissed. “We are sons of Belial, the god of this universe.
We now give you the opportunity to declare your allegiance to Belial and turn
away from your false idolatry.”
“What is this?” the man was confused.
“Religious freedom is one of our basic rights. Perhaps you have reason to stand
against the government, but you cannot ask us to deny our God.”
“You are a fool,” the soldier raised
his weapon. “Either your head will be lowered to the ground as you bow in
reverence before Belial, or it will roll across the dirt as we cut it off your
neck.”
“I will not deny my God,” the man was
steadfast. “Do as you will, but let my wife and children not see this.”
“They will bear witness to your
foolishness before they are given the choice between life and death.”
“Take my hand, O God, I am coming
home,” he said as he was forced to his knees by another fighter.
At once there were a series of
explosions in the sky, followed by another buzzing noise more shrill and
insistent than the first. The multitude watched in astonishment as a swarm of
drones descended on the field as a metallic cloud. The commandos were shocked
as the drones began firing xaser bursts at them, burning as molten lava upon
impact. They tried to fire back but the drones flew directly at them when hit
by a xaser beam. The drones exploded against their victims, and soon the field
was covered with dead soldiers and wrecked drones.
Eventually a black shuttlecraft came
down from the sky, and black-clad soldiers bearing the Scorpion insignia rushed
onto the field. They kicked the miniature aircraft out of their path and
stepped over the corpses, training their rifles on the terrified colonists. At
length they made way for a helmeted man in black, his black cloak swirling in
the wind.
“Who else is here?” he demanded. “Are
there any Deltan troops here?”
“Deltans?” the leader trembled. “No,
kind sir. Only these soldiers. They claimed to be the sons of Belial. They were
about to kill us. You saved our lives.”
“Sons of Belial,” the man scoffed.
“The offspring of idiots. Are you certain they were not here in pursuit of
Deltans?”
“No sir. We have seen no Deltans here.”
“Unfortunately I cannot leave any
evidence of our presence behind,” the man said. “You will have to evacuate this
asteroid before we destroy it. You have fifteen minutes.”
“Sir, we have no means of escape.
Please spare our homes.”
“The Betans will recompense you under
their Resettlement Act,” the man replied. “Are those not shuttlecrafts parked
nearby?”
“Yes, sir, but where will they take
us?”
“I saw a warship hovering above the
clouds. Can you fly one?”
“Yes, but they only carry sixty people
at most. There are a hundred of us.”
“We will carry the rest to the nearest
populated asteroid. From there you can summon assistance. All I demand from you
is your solemn oath that you and yours will never admit to having seen us.”
“You have my word,” the man agreed.
“Good,” the man in black nodded.
“Lieutenant, escort the people to the shuttlecrafts. Give the order to the crew
to stand by for the destruction of this asteroid in fifteen minutes.”
The
soldier saluted his superior and proceeded to follow orders.
The colonists watched in awe as
Captain Grav Drachna returned to his aircraft and ascended into the clouds.
No comments:
Post a Comment