Very cool twist there, NCB! Nice going!
Thanks! 
I set up this thread for author discussion. Glad to see you online, btw.
In addition to the organic containment vessel, Dr. McDaniel had some side projects on Galava Soca. These were geologic in nature; one indicated that he had been closing in on a better way to purify diterium. After the Vorpal incident, McDaniel haded over his research to the Teachers Union and they decided to move everything to a more hospitable location.
The deconstruction team had noticed signs that the lab hadn’t been the only structure to occupy the site. Word of a possible archeologic site had quickly spread. It was here that Dr. Jade Innison had been assigned. The anthropologist was examining some bone fragments when her comm unit chirped. “Incoming message for you, Ma’am.”
“Thanks. I’ll take it in here.” She turned to a display to see the Teachers Union logo, below which was a note that the attached message was audio only.
"Dr. Innison, we of Forsetti Security urgently request your assistance in a cultural matter. Please come as soon as possible.
Karkican Hingman sends his regards."
As Robert and M’Artel made their way to the teleport Robert was starting to wonder why he had reacted as violently as he had. What had he been thinking? Surely no real harm would have come to M’Artel while in the custody of Security! The young human began to shake visibly and when M’Artel noticed he hissed “Settle down!. We can’t be too conspicuous!” Teeth chattering, Robert tried to comply but failed, and his companion pulled him aside, and into a small bar. It was “early morning” by the clock, but such establishments rarely closed.
They got a small booth in a dark corner. After a shot of Terran whiskey(well, Terran style whiskey) Robert began to settle down. “Sorry guy, I don’t know what got into me.” “Hey, I was a little rough with you back there.” “I just couldn’t help myself” said Robert, “it won’t happen again.”
“You feel like going back out there?” asked M’Artel, “It’s still a while until Corianav is scheduled to get here. We made good time. Security must be slipping.” Robert noticed that his friend now seemed almost to be enjoying himself. Strange.
“Yeah, I want to keep moving” said Robert. “It feels better. This sounds like a cliche, but I just have this feeling we are being watched. Weird, isn’t it?”
M’Artels eyes darted around, he’d had enough experiences to respect hunches. “Alright, let’s go, maybe she will get here early.”
Having tubed out his office at the Security subdivision, Kark punched up the current case on his NotePad. It was connected to the Tharn database, so it had all of the data collected so far, including the droid feeds of the Sykoft’s rooms and the rooms shared by M’Artel and Robert.
Watching the playback of the Voss behavior, and split screening to show the room from the Voss’ POV, an odd thought grabbed him. “What were you trying to tell us, M’Artel?” he whispered to himself. “Why would you scare a Voss?”
Nothing was coming to him. “Okay, then, let’s find out a little about who you are…” and with that, he punched up the personal data file about the Xavvian suspect. Of course, it had al the public news about his work both in the Vorpal Incident and the Tag War, as they were both popularly known now. It also had the restricted, eyes only info about the Council’s Ruling concerning him. “Interesting, interesting…” Included in this information were his recent papers about Wayre and the current classes he was attending at the University for Planetary and Systems Government of Forsetti, Falsa Branch. One class in paricular caught his eye. Religions History. Taught by a person so famous in academic circles, you only needed to mention his first name, Cowd.
Cowd Agans Terwilian, EDD, PhD, DD, MD, NDLRS, Vitcairn, UlokjoMai, MSS, etc… one of the “not from Earth” Humans. Who had made a name for himself in the study of alien culture, especially the odd coincidence of religious systems that crossed over, not just races and planets, but whole species. His simple deduction of a common, even perhaps central guiding force behind them all, and the rediscovery of the reality of Wayre to prove his theory (so far) had catapulted him into the spotlight of a million worlds. It was no surprise that he was offered a position on Forsetti, it was just one of those many things that kark had paid little attention to.
Until now. Having Cowd and M’Artel together was very intriguing to him. “What did our esteemed professor teach you, M’Artel?” Keying in for a record of class transcripts, well, subject schedules, led him to notice the names that appeared on many of the same days. Of course, his friend Robert, or Robert Allen Harker, was there for virtually every one of the same sessions. So, Kark keyed in RAH, Human into the Tharn database to see just who he was.
And received the third (or fourth, he had lost count now) major shock for that day.
Robert A. Harker was none other than the son and heir of Royce Aesir Harker, founder of the Space Rangers.
Space Rangers is a private company, owned wholly by the Harker family. Every soldier is required to take an oath of fealty which is nonrevokeable. It’s in the contract. So, even though he was technically retired from the Space Rangers, Kark would be bound by this oath to honor any request concerning Robert from the family, perhaps even from this kid Robert himself.
Shutting off his NotePad, Kark sat in silent thought for quite some time.
As they wandered out of the bar into the now busy street, M’Artel had a brainstorm of sorts.
“Robert!”
“Yeah, what?”
“Do you remember why I was arrested?”
Pausing in mid stride, Robert answered, “Yeah! For suspision of murder. That’s it!. Even under Forsetti Local Law you can’t be arrested for suspicion. You can be detained, delayed, taken into protective custody, even held as material witness, but not arrested. So, what was his name? Darson? illegally arrested you. We’re home free!”
They high fived each other, a custom Robert had taught M’Artel years ago.
“But still,” said Robert pensively.
“Yeah?”
“What the frell was all that mess in our place, and why was Security already coming to see you?”
“I don’t know what it was, but I intend to find out” hissed the Xavvian. “And maybe we’re relaxing a little too soon. Who knows what that frelling Darson is going to say? We may still be fugitives, for all we know. Tobe once told me about the old Earther vids he watched, years ago. Sometimes police didn’t always play by the rules, any more than criminals did. There was something called “the back room”, where suspects accidentally “hurt” themselves. Come on, let’s get to the port station.”
Trying to keep their eyes open, they hurried along to the port landing site. This was a smaller port, for private VIP vessels, specialized medical transports, and, in special circumstances, for “jaunting”, the teleporting arrival by special guests. This was how Corianav was to arrive, as it was nearly instantaneous. It would have taken her longer to arrive at her embarkation point than the jaunting itself.
Robert, hoping his own ID might be flagged at a lower level than that of M’Artel, presented himself to an attendant and inquired about arrivals. She(it was a human female, noticed the young human male) rolled her eyes and, leaning forward, snorted quietly “Oh, you mean Her Ladyship? I wish you’d gotten here earlier. She sure did, and she’s sure pissed about something!”
“So, you finally decided to show up!” a cold voice said. Turning, M"Artel and Robert saw a young Xavvian female. So this was Tobe’s little sister! What had her so wound up, Robert wondered.
" I haven’t got all day" she said “Let’s go. You can tell me how badly you’ve fouled things up for my advocacy while we are in transport. Mother! I hate, hate, hate being jaunted! Just because I don’t have the talent of Big Brother. Who wants to have one’s insides scrambled, especially at a time like this!” She stalked off without waiting to see if they were following, but called back over her shoulder “and pickup my case and bag while you are at it.”
M’Artel stood unmoving, his jaw dropped. Robert picked up Cori’s bag then stared at his friend. It took a poke with his elbow to snap M’Artel out of it. “Dude, what’s up with you?” Robert hissed.
“I’m sorry, I just haven’t seen her in a while. Great Mother, but…dayum!”
Robert giggled at his friend’s odd mixture of Xavvian and Terran swears. Cori tapped her foot impatiently. “I have booked a suite at the Forsetti Omni,” she said. “How do we get there?”
“This way,” M’Artel said, hailing a hovercab. Robert noticed that his friend managed to sit between him and Cori.
“Uh-huh,” Robert nodded to himself.
Kark knocked on Darson’s door, then let himself in. “What happened?” he growled.
“I’ve been attacked. I’m going through The Change,” Darson moaned. He had tried to make it to his bed but instead, lay curled up on the floor.
“Do you need me to call a medic?” Kark asked in concern.
“Won’t help,” Darson said through gritted teeth. “Besides, with any luck, the more pain I endure, the greater the hope I’ll turn into an Alphamale.” He groaned and writhed on the floor.
“Can you tell me what happened with M’Artel?”
“I made a strategic error. I should never have told them they were arrested. I should have taken them in for questioning. Then you could have come in and interrogated them as well…Aaaaaagh!”
“Hang in, there, Darson,” Kark said. “How much longer do you have to go through this?”
“I don’t know,” Darson said. “It should be almost over.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
Darson motioned to his computer display. “Some high-ranking Xavvian named Cori-something is coming to see them. She may already be here.”
Kark groaned. “Damn! Not Cori!”
Kark left Darson to his transformation. He realized how tired he was himself, and decided to get something to eat, then head for his own rooms to sleep. He used his comm to inform the Security offices of his intention. After walking for some distance he thought he was tired enough to splurge on a hovercab for the rest of the way home. He was just passing by the cabline outside one of the big hotels, when a vehicle powered down, letting out it’s three passengers.
Kark picked up his pace to get the just empty cab when he got a good look at them, and they him of course.
“Why Captain Hingman” Corianav almost purred “what a pleasant surprise! *Do[/] join us, won’t you? We have so much to discuss!”
“Umm, I don’t think that would be wise, Cori.” Kark seemed ill at ease. “don’t want to give the appearance of collaboration you know, and M’Artel here still is a suspect in a murder. I’m not taking him in now due to errors on the part of Officer Darson, but , well(and here he looked at M’Artel) it would not look good if you left the area.” And he grabbed the cab, hopping in to get away.
Corianav gave a predatory little laugh as the cab sped off. She got herself settled into her own place, and Robert and M’Artel got a cheap, inner single room, to rest in after speaking with the advocate. They knew they couldn’t go back to their own quarters for a while. The three began initial discussion of the case over a quick meal, but before the three retired Robert had a question for Corianav.
“Say, that Kark is a tough guy type, why was he so edgy around you? have you met before?”
Cori gave another nasty chuckle. “You might say he made me what I am. At least he’s the reason I studied law, trying to find some way to get to him. He and the Space Ranger unit he was commanding acted to end a hostage taking. They got everyone out alive but one, and that one was my lover A’Rentianaxav. My first love, I was barely adolescent.”
“Kark was a Ranger?” ventured Robert, “I was raised around the Rangers, you might say. sometimes shit happens.”
“I know that!” she snapped back, her ear tufts bristling indignantly, just like I ,know who you are, Harker, or rather who your father is". But Kark Hingman tried to say Rent was not a hostage, but one of the gang. I’ll never believe that, never!"
Robert’s mouth seemed to be living a life of it’s own, at least he couldn’t stop himself from speaking again. “But surely there was evidence…” here he yelped in pain as she siezed the hand he’d been gesturing with.
“DON’T. EVEN. SAY. IT,” she grated.
“Ulp, no ma’am!”
“That’s better” and she smiled, transformed back into an ordinary Xavvian woman. “Now, I suggest we all get some rest, and later I’ll be contacting Security and the Omsbudsmans office, to start getting this mess cleared up. Something rotten is going on here, I can almost smell it.”
M’Artel ventured “I’d be honored to escort you to your suite if you need any more help getting setlled.”
Her ears didn’t bristle now, they flattened back threateningly. “I never get involved with a client!” and she stalked off alone.
“You know,” said Robert, “if she wasn’t a “cat” I’d say she was a bitch. What gives?”
M’Artel turned to him and said, “let me explain something about Xavvian females” as the two left for their own rest.
Jade sat staring at the blank screen, mulling over what she had just heard. Forsetti Security? Why would the need me, and for a cultural matter no less? And what does Uncle Kark have to do with this? Dad said he had taken an adjunct position but I had no idea it was there! Very strange. Only one way to find out…* She keyed her commlink. “Dr. Tanniger? Something’s just come up. Seems an old friend needs my help.”
*Not really her uncle.
Pelas rounded the hallway just as a droid rounded the far end. Both headed for the door to the room where Silas was resting. A small sheet of white smoke was emerging from the edge. The droid deferred to momentarily Pelas’s authorized security signature as it announced, “Alert, fire in progress, automatic response in 3 … 2 … 1.” Pelas decided to let it handle this rescue.
“Thermals and combustibles within tolerances” it blabbed, the curse of being security around droids that had to announce everything they did. The door slid open and a cloud billowed out into the hallway. It wasn’t hot, just pungent and set Pelas to coughing. The droid plunged into the cloud.
A high-pitched whiring began and soon Pelas could see the droid pushed up against the room’s vent. Silas was crouched with his head down, chanting. As the cloud thinned a shape emerged in front of Silas. A cone shaped creature of purple on black veins. Smoke billowed from underneath it. It’s head rose up and he saw a half ring of eight red eyes dancing before him. Pelas drew his gun and the laser sight shown through the cloud into the center of the mass. “Stop!” Pelas shouted and thought how remote the chances were it understood English. No one moved. Silas kept chanting but soon stopped and started to rise. Pelas said, “Silas I’ve got it in my sights. Don’t move!”
Silas said, “Pelas, please put down your weapon. This is Ssibestal Wesstachh. My, uh, rabbi would be the closest term.” The smoke was clearing and the creature was becoming clear. A Voss in long black robes with intricate purple and maroon filigree was standing there. He had a large hood circled by small lanterns each with a candle. He opened his robe and more smoke billowed out before he closed the lids on the small pots hanging from the inside.
Pelas put away his gun. “What is going on here?” he sighed. “Please wait,” said Silas and he turned to speak to his rabbi. After a few moments the rabbi cupped a few appendages around Silas’ head and released him. Pelas could hear the little pots clanking under his robe as he left. Silas turned to Pelas and looked more composed than he had.
“Forgive me, Pelas. While I’m not devout, the V’Meer’tikh sect is one which anyone with any sense at all fears.” He motioned Pelas to a chair and they both sat. The droid finished clearing the room and Pelas dismissed it. “You were there and you saw. I know you are not a Believer, but I must tell you what this means.” Pelas said, “Go on,” as he activated his recorder.
“When our race was slaves, every part of the society had slaves. If now were then, we would be speaking here in private and there would be at least four p’tahs for each of us. Adjusting the chairs, fanning us.” Silas had a faraway look for a moment. “My grandfather was a Footstool for the De’Medechhi and …” His gaze came back to the present. “I know that sounds demeaning to such a free race as yours, but his was an exalted position and well respected, at least to us. He was even allowed to speak to his Master. What I want to convey is that p’tahs were owned by everyone, good and bad alike. Now imagine the most viscious and sadistic psychopath you’ve ever known. And he would have p’tahs as well.”
Silas shifted in his seat, closed his eyes for a moment, and chanted a short verse. “I’m sorry, I’m just trying to get the image of that murder out of my mind. The p’tahs of many criminals and psychopaths banded together over time into the V’meer’tikh. Wars were fought to destroy them but they were too fanatical. It was said initiation into the sect required cutting off an appendage tp prove one’s loyalty. An old children’s camping tale said that the appendages were added to the Leader who kept growing larger and larger and would some day blot out the world.” He smiled as he mimed some grasping, “And then the ones who knew the story would grab the children and give them a good night’s fright.” But then his smile faded.
“The legends are all so much story, but the truth is worse. My grandfather was a good, strong Voss and I loved him. He volunteered for the rescue of the Sisters of the Cradle. The Sisters often setup up orphanages in remote areas devastated by war to care for the children whose families were destroyed. The V’meer’tikh had found a way around the lines and they wanted new recruits. My grandfather said they entered the village and the Sisters came out to meet them. But they weren’t Sisters anymore. They set upon the rescuers and tried to devour them. The Sisters had to be killed to be stopped. Then the rescuers found the children. Or what was left of them.” Silas put his head in his hands. “They had eaten them - alive; and some were still barely alive. The walls were covered in blood and the Binding Liturgy. It is said that all who look upon the V’meer’tikh will become One with them.” Silas began to cry. “I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t heard it from my own grandfather. He was proud of what he had tried to do. He was rescued from his rescue, but too late. They found him eating the head of a child. They could take him because he was weak from having cut off one of his appendages. I wasn’t allowed to see him before he died, only to sit outside his cell and hear him talk. After he died I was allowed to see his cell. It was covered in his own blood with the script of the Binding Liturgy.”
Silas just sobbed, “Please leave me. My spirit has been healed by my Ssibestal but it takes time to heal the memories. I’ll be alright.” Pelas nodded and left. He was shaken and the fresh air and normalcy of the hallways felt good. He felt relieved that he had got everything recorded and could wait before having to write a summary report. He headed home to try and end this insane day.
Most sentient species have some sort of dreaming, or unconscious thought, while they are at rest, and Xavvians are no exception.
M’Artel struggled up to awareness from what seemed like a bottomless abyss. In the darkness of the tiny room he and Robert had secured he stretched and scratched himself, feeling sticky, like he needed to bathe thoroughly. Mother! What had been going on in his head? Weird snatches of past events, all of a distinctly sanguine nature, and ending with an imagined vision of a Skysoft being ripped apart.
He reached out to wave on the roomlight, but before he could do so the door to the cubicle snapped open, admitting light from the corridor, and Robert stood there, disgustingly cheerful.
“Wake up sleepyhead! I’ve already eaten, and Cori …” Robert’s voice trailed away, as he looked into the room.
“Hey, Rob, I don’t look that bad do I?” queried M’Artel. This time he did activate the light, and saw what had silenced Robert.
More blood, this time human red. It wasn’t on the walls, but more on M’Artel, his bedding, and it trailed into the tiny bathing cubicle. It was impossible not to look, and there, in the shower, was the body of a human woman, of middle years. In her condition it was hard to tell, but it didn’t seem to be anyone they knew. Hooked into the flesh of her face, above the right cheekbone, was a greenish brown claw. At the sight M’Artel felt a stinging in his own right hand and saw, to his horror, that his index finger was bleeding and missing it’s claw.
Robert looked fearfully at his friend and backed slowly up. "I think I’d better call Security, and Cori.
M’Artel nodded in mute agreement.
“By the Great Mother, I told you already! I DON’T REMEMBER!” screamed M’Artel at the Tharn investigator.
In the next room, viewing by video feed and various reading machines, Kark sat and watched. Periodically, he made entries into his personal Notepad, but he was keeping off line from the security center’s computers.
“Stupid cat,” said Pelas, from the next desk. “Caught him red handed. Or green handed” he chuckled.
Ignoring the specist jibe, Kark asked, “Have we got an ID on this Human woman yet?”
“Um…, yeah…” aswered Pelas, scrolling through files on the center’s computer. “Here it is. Rose Alagne Foss. Student. On Forsetti as a ‘field trip’ of sorts from Ceres College of Planetary Governments. Seems she was here to bone up on some of the in depth political procedures. She had just finished a lecture by Cowd, disappeared into the tubes, and ended up in the cat box.”
“Look, Pelas. I don’t know what it is with you Tharn and Xavvians, but I don’t want to keep hearing your foul mouth, Okay!? Let’s concentrate on the case, not your bigotry.”
Shocked, Pelas looked at Kark and said, “Kark, Captain Kark Hingman of the Space Rangers, Human. Don’t you go lecturing me on what’s bigitry and what’s proper. I know what you did on Spica IV. Didn’t know that rocks could be sentient? Even though one was talking to you?” He got up and walked over to Kark, leaning close in to his face. “You killed all of them, didn’t you? Just because you were too freaked out by how alien they seemed. Don’t EVER tell me that I’M specist.”
“That was a long time ago,” Kark defended himself. “And I’ve made supreme efforts to never let anything similar ever happen again. Can you say the same for you and you Tharn brothers towards the Xavvian?”
Almost apoplectic with rage, Pelas stuttered, “B-b-b-rothers!? I swear by all that is holy, you will live to regret that slur!” And he stormed out of the room.
Stunned almost beyond belief, Kark felt physically ill. Turning towards the video from the interrogation, he was just in time to see M’Artel look at the camera and smile…
Something about that smile bothered Kark. It just didn’t fit the actions and readings M’Artel had already exhibited. This was timed just a little too perfectly, it felt…choreographed somehow, and suspects were not supposed to be able to know what was going on in the survey room. He heaved a sigh. It was one more mysterious entry for his notes.
Kark had just finished tapping it in when the door to the survey room snapped open behind him. He felt a cool breeze, or was it a frisson of alarm? The person behind him began to speak, and Kark decided it was the latter.
“How long has my client been here, and for how long have you been questioning him?” rapped out Corianav. “Forsetti law for off-worlders clearly states an accused must have representation immediately! This must cease until my client and I can consult in privacy!”
Kark winced. He knew the law, but he’d hoped M’Artel would be regarded as a legal resident. But he knew that if Corianav was speaking in that fashion, her interpretation would be correct. Kark was an “honest cop” but he didn’t see how M’Artel could be innocent. Leaning over the speakers to the next room he ordered “Stop the questioning now. The advocate for the accused is present and needs to confer with him.” He saw M’Artel sag in seeming relief.
“At least you didn’t try to argue” purred Cori. “I’ll see my client now.”
Jade was granted a leave of absence and caught the next transport to the nearest Alliance facility. This was Outpost 77, in orbit around an unnamed piece of rock. She sat down at a terminal upon arrival.
“On.” The screen came to life and displayed the Alliance logo, then a menu. “Messages, outging.” The Messages menu didn’t even have time to expand before the screen changed to Outgoing and a list of all possible connections based on the outpost’s current vector. Jade didn’t see the one she wanted. “Save for later transmittal.” The screen blipped, then prompted for a location. “Sigma Theta, Admiral Zora Innison.” The screen blipped again, returned to the Alliance logo and a RECORD NOW message.
“Hi, Dad. I’m going to Forsetti for a while so don’t try contacting me at the dig. I’m not sure but I think Kark has gone and got himself in the middle of something again. I’ll try getting in touch directly when I have time. Love you.”
“Professor, I’m worried about Robert and M’Artel,” Gr’Vinnia said as Cowd followed her into his office.
“Yes, I am, too,” he replied, motioning her to a chair as he took his seat behind his desk. “Do you know any of the details of what is going on?”
“Well, Robert and I have been practicing long distance speaking with our crystals, but he doesn’t like to stay connected for very long,” she said. “He seems to almost be afraid of using his crystal!” Her Xavvian face took on a very Human expression as she said this. A mix of confusion of exasperation.
This will be so easy, Cowd thought to himself. And I can see why Robert hasn’t refused her attentions, as so many stupid Earthers would. She is GORGEOUS! “Well, Grivvy,” he answered, using her popular nick name, “You have to remember what he went through during the Vorpal Incident. And being of the Earther line of Humans, he wasn’t raised with the thought of using crystals as being normal. Still, his association with Xavvians and Thosti have made him less of a provincial than most Earthers. We can thank his father for that.”
At the mention of the elder Harker, Gr’Vinnia tensed up somewhat.
“What’s the matter, Grivvy? Something about Robert’s father disturb you?”
“Well, I don’t know if you know the whole history about the Rangers and Xavvians…” she broke into a very Human grin as she realized that she was speaking with perhaps the most qualified person ever about history and race relations.
Smiling himself, Cowd put her at ease. “Yes, I know all about the Rangers. And how Royce A. Harker and the Xavvian Royals don’t, how should I say this? don’t see eye to eye on certain issues. Which is why the friendship between Robert and M’Artel is so outstanding. Add to that the fact that Robert is heir to a powerful privately owned military and M’Artel has the Council’s orders to bring the Xavvian military back in line with their religion…” He paused. “Well, it’s just fascinating! Besides the fact that I actually like those two boys. Now, tell me, what have seen or heard recently that might be of some help to them, provided the info gets to the right ears, hmmm?”
Now put at ease, Gr’Vinnia began to talk at length, outlining clearly her fears, hopes, and speculations. Cowd listened with rapt attention.
It was common knowledge that the Alliance had been preparing Sigma Theta for a new academy. It had been in the pipeline for years, ever since a certain diterium miner had started causing problems. The Alliance felt it needed to increase its presence in the region and it had been decided a branch of the academy would be the best option. They were going need a new one anyway. Of course, they also needed a line officer to take charge and hardly anyone had more seniority than Zora Innison. Those who did were already secured in administrative positions.
Nobody expected Zora to actually accept the offer, least of all Zora himself.
“Pelas here,” he answered blearily after his commlink flashed a Security call. “Office Ahndhows here. We’re at the ‘scene’ and there is a large group of Voss wanting to get in and clean up.” Pelas activated a small holo and saw the hallway outside the murder scene projected over his wrist. It was filled with chanting Voss. Near the officer were ones in robes like the rabbi he’d met earlier. Eight looked like they were completely covered in white robes.
“Purify.” a Voss sitting on the shoulders of another was stepped forward and the rabbi’s stepped ahead too. The rabbi’s spoke and the interpreter soon followed. “Your science has done what it feels it needs to do. But it has always been in our hands. We must purify this place and all who would bring the Evil back into our Spirits. We know you do not understand, but you must step aside and let your Wiser Spirits overcome this.” With that they turned back toward the main doors to the murder scene. They linked arms and created a kind of wall as they began chanting softly.
Ahndhows whispered, “Sir, the doors are sealed and they seem content at the moment to just shut off the area. There’s a whole mob all around the corridors and the building. They’re peaceful so far but I don’t know how long that’s going to last. And I don’t know what’s going to happen if any other residents want to get in or out, or even if they’ll let any Security Investigation Teams back in. Any orders, sir?”
Pelas sighed and thought a moment, “Call the Negotiation Team down there to find out their demands. Station your troops near the entrances but don’t confront them. If needed just say you’re guarding the place too and higher ups will be along shortly.” Ahndhows responded, “Yes, sir.”
He thought he could just let Kark know about some history of the Voss, but now this history seems to have shoved itself right into the present.
Not wanting to reopen any conversation with Pelas just now, Kark still needed the information on the first victim, realizing it seemed to be taking an unusually long time to reach him. Hesitatingly, he put in a call to the research desk of the Security office. A lemurlike creature came on the vid screen. “Howdee, boss! What kin I do you for?” it asked in a very strange mix of Texan and alien accents, totally bewieldering Kark.
“Who the frell are you?” queried Kark.
“Your bestest friend in the whole wide world, pilgrim.” came the answer. “My name is Ben Shockley.”
“No it isn’t. This isn’t the time for jokes, bud. Now what’s your name?”
“For you, Rowdy Yates.”
Kark sighed heavily. It was sometimes rather difficult to remember all the quirks of the thousands of species he had run into on this planet. He vaguely remembered these simian looking creatures as having a very bizaar sense of humor. Often joking, they nonetheless were superior at information gathering.
“Okay, Pilgrim,” Kark began again, “Has the info on who that Sykoft was come through yet?”
“Sure has, shall I send it to your NP? Or are you still offline?”
Seeing that they hadn’t missed even that insignificant detail of the case somewhat reassured Kark. “No,” he answered, “Just post it on the links, I’ll capture it from my desk computer. Can you summarize?”
“Sure thing, pardner. Sykoft 13 KU7L7 was on planet for…”
“Wait a minute. 13KU7L7?”
“Yeah, that’s how they are referred to by most races, as a catalog number of sorts. Their personal names are virtually unpronounceable by most of us. Shall I play you a recording of it? It’s really nice.”
“No. But add it to the report on thee links, please. Continue.”
“13KU7L7 was on planet for 12 Standard rotations before being scheduled for some off planet travel by his * ahem * employer. No activity at all was recorded on the last on planet day of his schedule.”
Puzzled, Kark asked, “Why did you say employer so strangely?”
“Because his so called on planet job was a cover. 13KU7L7 came to Forsetti undercover, taking the false identity of 506G8ND. 13KU7L7 was an assassin, you see. And a pretty successful one. At least, until he died.”
Cocking an eyebrow in a whimsical expression, Kark offered, “Dying ain’t much of a living, boy.”
“Huh?” responded the strange, hairy researcher.
“Never mind. Thanks. Please be sure to post that on the links ASAP so all the investigators have access to it. But restrict it.”
“Sure thing, Boss. Over and out!” And the vid screen went blank.
Bemused, Kark realized he had forgotten to ask a very important question. Who had the Sykoft been contracted by? And who was his target here? He decided to remote link to his office from a public terminal, still not wanting his personal NotePad to be linked up.
Jade Innison did not have the advantage of immediate transport that Corianav had. Even with the S-P hyperdrive her journey to Forsetti would take three standard days.
Settling into a tiny room onboard the Alliance vessel headed for Forsetti, she decided there were some advantages to being the daughter of a high ranking Alliance Security officer. She had obtained this ratty little cubicle by using her father;s name, otherwise catching a scheduled commercial flight to this sector might have taken a couple of weerks.
Narrow as it was the bunk was not half bad so Jade kicked off her shoes and stretched out. She had been enjoying her work on Galava Soca, but, being a jungle world it was just too damned hot. And there were too many flies, actually a small flying insect that occupied the same niche a Terran housefly did. This “downtime” while aboard ship would let her catch up on her sleep as well.
Thinking of her father she wondered why he had gone back to active duty military, even with the promotion in rank. After the Vorpal incident he had worked along with VMC Corp for almost a year, then had gone back to inactive duty/retired status. Retired from the military that is. His own private missions had been lucrativeBut then, not quite four months ago he’d accepted the Alliacnce posting on Sigman Theta. Whatever the cause of his mild drpression had been this new assignment had obviously helped, and Jade was happy for her father.
She thought to herself that this bed really wasn’t half bad, fully intending to get up soon and organize all the Voss, Tharn, and Xavvian material she had brought with her. Her last consciousness thought before there was a gentle buzzing from the bunk, was that this might at least be interesting. Kark was a good officer, but he was like an old Earth Navy captain she’d once read about. What was his name, Bligh? He often seemed to find himself in bad situations that were not of his making.