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Story Time!

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Prologue

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It is the year 2409 in the Aldranea Galaxy, and the warriors who fought in the long and bloody fourth Galactic War are finally returning home for some rest and well-deserved recreation. But even during peace-time, evil never sleeps… As Jim, Sarah, and Najenkur try to readjust to civilian life, an evil cult bent on avenging crimes long forgotten seeks to rediscover a powerful Xel weapon of old, said to have won the war for the Senarians who captured it from the Xel so long ago.

Chapter One: A Moment of Peace

Cast into the middle of the conflict is the pirate vessel Iien Blian, and the mercenary Kiva Andur, who all get in way over their heads and endanger the very galaxy they rob from. And one fatal mistake by Andur sends Sarah on her most dangerous and challenging assignment ever. Meanwhile, Jim Raynor and Najenkur Kehkz join forces to find and capture the leader of the cult, and are forced to chase him halfway across the galaxy. And everyone, whether they know it or not, has the same mission—to discover the Secret Within….
It was a day not unlike any other, as far as the temperate days go on planet Kanta. A gorgeous sunny day, and Jim Raynor was finally home. He drove a rented land speeder. A Ford. Typical of the rental companies. But that didn’t matter, because Jim was almost to his house—his home. The Raynor Estate they called it. But estate probably was a bit of an exaggeration. It was really nothing more than a mid-sized mansion, seated on the crest of one of the rolling hills outside Kantapolis, surrounded by a low stone fence that marked the 20-acre boundary. And it was truly not very different than any of the other hundreds of houses similarly located. But that didn’t matter either, because Jim was home.

Jim drove the red-and-silver flying sedan up his driveway and brought it to a park near the front door. He didn’t see either of his parents’ cars in the driveway. And the garage door was shut, but his parents never parked their cars there anyway. Jim shut off the engine and climbed out of the vehicle. He’d needed to stretch anyway.
“Well. This is it,” Jim said to his companion, Sarah Steele. The woman looked up at the house. She seemed interested, but didn’t speak. Jim fumbled for his house key, which was still shiny despite all the years of neglect. And then the door was open, and the two soldiers stepped inside. Jim kicked his shoes off and threw his stuff on the coffee table. Behind him, Sarah removed her brilliant pink and purple cloak and hung it on the coat rack

”So,” she started, “This is the famous Raynor estate. Nice.”
”Yeah,” Jim replied absently, only somewhat noticing that she didn’t seem to be nearly as impressed as were most people who saw it. “But what I’m wondering is, where is everybody?”
”Beats me,” Sarah replied, still examining the architecture and furnishings.
”Is this pine she asked?
Not hearing the question, Jim walked into the kitchen. The kitchen was divided from the front parlor by a rather plain looking white wall. Directly across from the entrance was a bright blob that represented the sun coming in though the wall of windows and the fortiglass door that opened into the pool area. On Jim’s right, the hall lead to the bedrooms looked exactly as Jim recalled, save for a more faded carpet, and to the left, the living room was darkened. Dividing the cooking area from the dining area, a marble counter ran through the middle of the room, and on that counter that stayed so cluttered during Jim’s childhood, rested only a single open data pad with a simple note. Welcome home. And just then from behind, a cacophony of voices behind him--
”SURPRISE!!!” Jim turned to see is parents along with many of his old friends and their wives. Bill, Rick, Joe, Itin… and Jim was overwhelmed with emotion, something that he forgot was possible for him.
”Welcome home, Jim,” Jill Raynor said as she embraced her son. “I’m so glad your home. It seems like you’ve been gone forever.”
”Well. Eleven years is a long time, Mom,” answered Jim. “I suppose I’ve gone through a lot since then. I’m not sure I’m even the same person you remember.”
Jim’s father ignored Jim’s moment of deep thought, “Welcome home, son,” and he extended his hand. Not surprising, Jim thought. His dad was never a big fan of emotional reunions, and he didn’t really care too much for Jim’s decision to join the military in the first place. He always feared Jim would end up dead. Just like…
”Hey Dad,” was all that Jim could muster.

And then out of the parlor, came Joe and Itin, carrying an enormous cake. One that didn’t look entirely edible, Jim observed. After a few short greetings with his old buddies, the group got Jim to sit at the head of the table in front of the enormous cake.

It had writing on it. Happy Homecoming.

And suddenly the top of the cake popped off and a familiar slender figure rose from the inside. ”Melissa!” Jim blurted as he hoisted the girl into the air out of the cake and onto the floor beside him. Though no less human than anyone else in the house, Jim was remarkably strong.
”Wow. I thought you were going to be running some errand out on Guetro!” Jim continued, now elated.
”Well, I wanted this to be a surprise,” Melissa replied. “Who is she?” Melissa asked, with more than a trace of jealousy in her voice. She had pointed to the beautiful redheaded woman across the room. Sarah. Jim had almost forgotten about her. Jim was across the room in a nanosecond.
”I would like you all to meet Sarah Steele,” Jim announced to the room. “She was… John’s wife...”
An awkward silence filled the room and Jim wished it hadn’t come up. He could already see that Sarah was upset. John had been a great friend to Jim, but he was Sarah’s husband. There was no way he could understand how she felt—how much more of a loss it was for her. But he had already told his parents the story, and that was that.
Sarah Steele was certainly upset. She didn’t like to think about John. The way he had died—how he was murdered. Disgraceful for a Veijan…for anyone. But Jim hadn’t meant to upset her, and she wasn’t mad at him. She couldn’t understand why John’s death still upset her so much. It was so long ago. Perhaps it was the way he had died.Murdered… By a Zoine. How could her John die that way?
A sudden movement from the olive-skinned, black haired woman across the room caught Sarah’s eye. Melissa moved across the room to the electronic wardrobe on the wall. A few button-taps and a flash of light later, her ridiculous cake-girl costume was replaced by a white T-shirt and blue-jean shorts.
”I’m fine, really,” Sarah said to no one in particular. And it wasn’t really all that true, either. She decided that she needed time to be alone.

What a day. First she missed the ship that was supposed to take her to Iif, where her own space boat was docked, and then she almost broke down in front of Jim’s family.

She scanned the area for a place she could retreat to—somewhere she could go to be alone while she argued with herself about things. A back door that opened onto the pool area caught her eye and she knew she found her escape.
”Is it okay if I use your pool, Mrs., Raynor,” Sarah said to the older woman standing next to Jim. Or at least she assumed she was about 50, being Jim’s mother. She looked remarkably young for her age.
”Of course, dear,” the older woman replied, “And call me Jill. In fact, I think I might join you.”
Strange, Sarah thought. But she wasn’t going to argue. She followed Jill out to the pool area, roughly 250 square feet, Sarah estimated, the pool taking up half the space. A few quick selections on the Wardrobe, a flash, and Sarah’s jumpsuit was replaced by a red and purple one-piece swimsuit that fit remarkably well for one not being Sarah’s. Jill did the same.

“The game’s about to start!” was the last thing Sarah heard before she was submerged in chlorinated water.

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Chapter Two: Prelude to Vengeance

The mercenary pirate Kiva Andur sat in the negotiations room, really the living room of a high penthouse on one of the many high-rise towers of the planet Texas. She had been hired to extract some coordinates from a Ki’lail thug who made residence here on Texas. She didn’t exactly know what they were, but the Captain was going to get well paid for it. By some rich debutante from Ki’lai, she overheard.
She had brought here her own Ki’lail companion to sense deception and for backup, just incase the deal went sour. Just as she was finishing that thought, the door across the room opened and two figures walked out.

The contact, code-named Sirius White, was a male Ki’lail, his three eyes framed by a dark emerald hair. The other figure, a Smuell of indeterminate gender had a deep lavender skin and was wearing what appeared to be armor of some sort, underneath a flowing black robe with an insignia on the chest plate.

“Welcome Ms…” He began.
“Andur,” Kiva replied.
“Ah yes the famous Kiva Andur; feared assassin, most notorious for the incident on Tol’Gil’fa. How many people died that day?”
“It looks like you do your homework,” Kiva remarked dryly.
Suddenly, Tem Path, Kiva’s lie detector sprang to her feet and screamed “It’s a trap!”
”What?—“ Kiva asked.
The walls behind Sirius White abruptly came alive as six hidden panels slid away to reveal armed sentries. Sirius White took the first shot of some sort of strange energy weapon and collapsed to the floor. From Tem’s third eye shot a blinding stream of orange light, which blew the wall to pieces, killing at least five of the dozen or more guards. The remaining guards hoisted their weapons and pink fire lanced out and burned Kiva into ashes. Her ashes appeared to sweep over the whole area and darkness consumed all until Kiva’s eyes abruptly snapped open.

Ridiculous nightmare. That wasn’t how it really happened obviously. It had, in reality gone fairly smoothly, as smooth as things Kiva Andur was involved in, at least. Her companion had been zapped by Sirius White himself, with some sort of strange psionic virus that had caused Tam to suffer for a week before she was eventually destroyed by her own mind. Of course, at that first display of treachery, Kiva had shot him. Thankfully they had gotten away, and Kiva had found a safe place to lie low while White’s lackeys were still searching.

While Tem was at the hospital, she had relayed the info she was able to attain when she had read White’s mind. It seamed to horrify her, and Kiva soon understood why. The coordinates that she was meant to extract were supposedly the location of the legendary starless planet that could destroy civilizations. It was presumed a myth, but if the Captain’s contacts were willing to pay so much for the coordinates….

Kiva had sent several transmissions to her only confidant aboard the Iien Blian, a half-vurkan named Ishori. She was serving as the science officer, but she was a skilled fighter, and probably Kiva’s only real friend. She saved back up copies on hard disks and hid those in the secret blit, a device designed to store matter as energy and convert it back again, surgically implanted in her left thy.

She predicted that her transmissions wouldn’t ever reach the Iien Blian. Captain Cortez didn’t want his location given away to the daucht police.
Kiva suddenly felt a blast of heat and the wall near her gave way. She had only seconds to react. She drilled multiple bullets from her favorite pistol Itchy into her target before she examined it to see what it was. A glance told her it was a humanoid grunt in some sort of power suit, and with her Veijan sensory powers, she could feel more. The wall was suddenly riddled with holes from machine gun fire, and Kiva took the only available escape: the window.

Bad decision! Kiva used her Veijan strength to leap to the building across the street from her apartment. The distinctive hum of an air speeder fishtailing behind her caused Kiva to leap a second time before looking back. When she did look, she discovered a black Corvette with tented windows and narrow cylinders protruding from the grill. Suddenly the cylinders came alive with machine gun fire. It was just before dawn, reflected sunlight lit most of Laredo City.

Kiva took off. She suddenly hated herself much more than ever before for never learning how to fly.
She started through town, jumping off roofs, running along the sides of buildings, skimming narrow ledges and performing all sorts of ki assisted acrobatics. Unfortunately, the speeder stayed behind her, pouring machinegun fire into her general direction, and before long, and another car had joined it in pursuit, and she was beginning to feel fatigued. She leapt over some morning traffic, ki-boosted around the corner, braced for impact. The window that she had slammed into shattered, and Kiva sent an explosion of ki around her to clear the shards of glass that surrounded her, threatening to cut her. She sprinted across the building, shot out the opposite window with her pistol and leapt out to continue her flight. In mid-air, she saw one of the cars, the Corvette, round the 90-degree angle created by the building she just blasted through. Bringing her guns around, Kiva dialed her energy weapon to maximum power and took careful aim. She squeazed of three rounds from that gun and her pistol, and the Corvette erupted into a ball of fire. Unfortunately, the remaining speeders were on her again by the time she rounded the next city block.

Kiva heard the single gun on the second speeder charge and fire, and she suddenly felt as if every nerve ending in her body was on fire. She lost concentration and began to fall.

I have managed to slow my descent. At least that is the last thought she had before she landed, and the first when she awoke. The second was Who am I? And the third was Daucht Bledit. Then she remembered. The chase.. the fall…
There were several pedestrians now gathered around her, and she heard the slamming of a nearby car door. She tried to set up and it hurt to move. She eventually got to her feet, and found an intact Senarium hypo in a blit attached to her belt. She injected the healing solution into her neck and the puncture was healed by the time she discarded the injection. Senarium was a remarkable healer, although quite fatal to most humanoids in all but the smallest doses. She felt considerably better now, but was still rather week from the fall.
A group of what appeared to be armed hit men appeared amongst the growing crowd of pedestrians. She assumed attack position. The first hit man fired, and she rolled right and felt an excruciating pain in that shoulder. The pedestrians fled, and Kiva leapt to her feet. Leg sweep. Ki punch. She dogged a second stun bolt. Why stun? Her fist made contact with an enemy face and she felt bone crunch inward, as his skull tore his brain apart. In a minute 12 attackers were reduced to three.

One of the remaining hitmen got a hole drilled through him with a blast of fire from Kiva’s palm. The next was killed instantly when a powerful kick drove him into a nearby forticrete wall and broke his spine in many, many places.

Then she saw a Smuell in body-armor standing on the opposite street corner raise a stun blaster and she dogged with a soaring back flip over the third hitman. In the air, she prepared her favorite attack. The Delayed Fusion Cutter. Two atoms wide, it basically caused all the atoms in its path to fuse with the nearest atom also touched by its energy.

Most never saw it coming.

The final hitman was like most.

The problem was the delay.

The Smuell with the stunner aimed again and fired ferociously at the exhausted mercenary, and she went down.

By the time she opened her eyes and saw him, several Ki’lail in tuxedos and two-eye sunglasses were also standing over her. Another Ki’lail, female, in a flowing lavender dress joined the assailants and stooped down over Kiva. To Daucht with you all, Klitching Ughtins!!

The thee-eyed woman held a small ovoid in her hand, crystalline in appearance. She placed it to her third eye and a wave of psionic energy pulsed over Kiva, and blackness closed in around her as she felt her spirit separate from her body and knew she was dying.

Lady Taurin Monstala Ueiva stood over the now-mindless lump of flesh that had once been Kiva Andur. She held in her hand a psionic jewel that contained the memories and personality of that mercenary. Eventually, she would use it in her grand ceremony of revenge. She had intercepted the transmission the Andur had sent to the Iien Blian. She would soon decipher the encryption and be on her way to the legendary starless planet that had so long eluded her. There she would complete her revenge.
“Kill her,” Ueiva said to the surviving hitman. She walked away, got into her Corvette, and ordered the driver to take her to the spaceport. And it was that action that ultimately sealed the fate of billions. Because the final hitman, a hired thug with no ties to the Eyes of Vengeance, had already been killed. He was mortally wounded and didn’t know it. And Kiva never witnessed her revenge and never felt the satisfaction of a job well done, as the thug was rend in two by the delayed fusion cutter.


© Copyright 2005 Chaltab. All rights reserved. Distribution of any kind is prohibited without the written consent of Chaltab.

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Chapter Three: Duty Calls

Sarah awoke the next morning in a guest bedroom at the Raynor estate. She showered and walked to the electronic wardrobe. With a few button taps and a blaze of light, she was suddenly dressed in her favorite hot-pink shirt and a pair of jeans she bought at a flea market on Mraxis.
The previous night had been very weird. Sarah marveled at football’s amazing ability to absorb the very souls of men and cause them to ignore the dearest people in their lives. It wasn’t unexpected, though. The girls had gone up stairs and, of all things, practiced with Bo staffs, the ancient oriental weapon that was essentially a big stick designed to knock people senseless. Sarah, with her Veijan strength and martial training, had been quick to best most of the girls. Itin’s wife Mara had nearly defeated her, but Sarah had managed to rout her at the last minute with a skillful set of reverse strikes that kept Mara guessing at where to block. The only person able to defeat Sarah was Jill Raynor herself.
As Sarah decended the winding stairs of the mansion, she noticed that she couldn’t feel Jim’s ki. That was unusual, considering he was the strongest human in the house. When she got to the bottom of the staircase, she saw Jim’s family, along with some of his old friends at the kitchen table. The look on their faces told Sarah immediately that something was very wrong.
“What is going on?… Where is Jim??” were the first words out of Sarah’s mouth. Jim’s parents gave an anxious sigh before his mother answered.
“Last night, he was called by General Greglithf. He was given a Police Mission.”
“Oh…” Sarah said as her heart sank. One of the requirements of military service within the Empire of Earth armed forces was, that during peace time an even while on leave, as she and Jim now were, the government could call outstanding military officers—or any officer, for that matter—to engage in various law enforcement or investigative missions. They were especially important for international affairs because local cops weren’t allowed to police activities taking place out of their jurisdiction, and outside the Empire certainly qualified.

Sarah assumed that it was an international crisis.

Jim regretted leaving his family and Sarah in the middle of the night. He hated it. He wanted to hate General Greglithf for giving him this mission. But that wasn’t going to do any good. He was also disappointed in the outcome of the Ultra Bowl. The accursed Felt Fighting Fichuses had bested the Texas Titanic Longhorns 45 to 43. A lousy safety had decided the fate of the game! Jim ignored his anger and turned on a holo-sermon given by his favorite pastor, Reverend Joe. It was about anger.

Figured.
He had downloaded the last few days worth of TV and HV programming before making the thirty-six hour warp-jump to the planet Texas, where he would use the planet’s gravity to slingshot himself to his the vector of his final destination: Felt.
The irony of the timing of his journey amused him for a minute, as well as the pastor’s joke about animal-rights activists. Jim watched the bright blue stream of hyperspace streak by out of the cockpit. He leaned his chair back and fell asleep.

Sarah was staring out the window when her own call came. General Robert Seguin, who had never been her commanding officer before, contacted Sarah at 8 PM Sunday night, Kantapolis standard time. Her instructions were to simply leave as soon as possible and go to the Ithguad Memorial Hospital in Laredo City on Texas, and that she should come prepared to have every skill in her arsenal tested.
She left at 8 AM the next morning. She was limited to public transport, since her own precious Stallion was still at Iif. She had to go on-foot, as her mission was a secret and she very well couldn’t steal one of the Raynors’ cars. She got to the spaceport around nine-thirty and found a flight to Texas. Well, she thought, this is going to be fun.

After nearly forty hours in cramped quarters on the space-bus to Texas, Sarah needed to stretch. She rented an air-car from a rental agency. To her surprise it wasn’t a Ford. It was another hour of flying before she sat down at the Ithguad Hospital. She was escorted to a room on the 320th floor, where there were several nurses and military types waiting for her. There was also a hospital bed, and on it was a woman who appeared to be sleeping.

“Welcome, Lieutenant,” began the highest-ranking military officer. ”I am Admiral John Hammock.”

“Sir,” Sarah acknowledged, “May I ask what this is about. I would like to know why I was called off my leave.” Sarah realized that she could’ve been more respectful.
“This,” the general said, pointing to the comatose woman on the bed, “is why you’ve been called here. Her name is Kiva Andur, and she works for the infamous pirate vessel the Iien Blian. I fear her confederates may be involved in matter of international security.”
“I see.” Sarah looked again at the woman on the bed. She looked to be about Sarah’s age, roughly her build, similar hair color. There were some nasty scars on her face, arms and legs. One scar on her forehead looked especially fresh. The general opened his mouth to speak.
“Our medical officer, Lt. Yalm Wessil, will brief you further.” He motioned to the scruffy-looking Tye officer on the other end of the room.
“Well,” Yalm began, “the patient, Ms. Andur, essentially seems to be in a coma. We have found no way to revive her. The most puzzling aspect, however, is her brain activity. Nearly all of her mental functions seem to be shut down. The only functions that are currently active are life processes. Though her heart still beats and her lungs still work, she essentially isn’t there. It is as if her mind is wiped clean, torn from her body.”
“Sounds like some sort of psionic attack to me,” said Sarah.
“I was thinking the same thing,” replied Yalm. “But that isn’t the most important issue right now.” Yalm pressed a button and a gravity beam flipped the cadaverous body over. He continued, “In the back of her thy,” he said, touching a portion of the woman’s leg, “there seems to be implanted an ECU.” The piece of paper in his hand that he had held over the pirate converted into energy and entered the implanted blit, concealed behind a scar in her thy.
“So what significance does this have?” inquired Sarah of Lt. Wessil.
“Wait till I show you what we found in it”

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Chapter Four: Peace, Interrupted

The endless expanse of cityscape stretched out before Najenkur Kehkz as she piloted her air-car over the titanic urban sprawl called Intrepid City. She had an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. This was her first time visiting her parents’ house in more than 100 years. At 272, Najenkur was no child.

She had been estranged from her parents since she had become a Christian at the mission on Celeste 90 years ago. Her parents, devout Senarianists, had not agreed with her decision and had told her not to come back. But a century can cool a temper, or make it 1000 times hotter, and in her parents’ case, a cooling certainly had taken place. They had invited her to their house to baby-sit her younger siblings, most of whom she had never met. She set the car down in a suburban parking area a few blocks from the house.

She had never been here before; when she first left her home, they had all lived on Xerguun 8. She walked down the three blocks, turned right and walked two more, and found the house where her parents now lived. As Naj approached the door, it slid open and she went inside.

Her reunion with her parents had come and gone it a strangely matter-of-fact manner. They had all seemed to simply avoid the subject of the past 100 years altogether. It was as if she had never been gone. She didn’t know if she should laugh or cry.
She had been conversing in Senarian all day, as her younger siblings did not know English, which was quickly becoming the galaxy’s chief language. Not because it was easier than Senarian, but because Earthlings, with their shorter lifespans had less time to learn the Galaxy’s many languages. The same could be said of Zoine, but few of them were even bilingual, and most were illiterate, by choice. They didn’t like to learn. Naj’s sister Shayla, her brother Alad, and her baby sister Tiriisi had been watching the second Star Wars movie called “Et Sekel Analis ej Pat” when Naj’s younger sister Selly walked in.

Selintou had been the only other member of the Kehkz family that she knew of to reject the arrogant philosophies of Senarianism, which basically said God ordained that Senarians were, by birth, the greatest race and had the right to rule everyone. Selly was a born-again Southern Baptist. Even after all these years, Naj couldn’t figure out what the importance of “denominations” was.
She could figure out that Selly’s arrival was fairly well-timed, however, when she got a call from her commander, Kelenthou Pen, who gave her orders to leave immediately to investigate a cult based on Somu’e called the Eyes of Vengeance. So much for a family reunion, she thought. Naj left immediately, using Selly’s space boat rather long-hauling it back to the spaceport. A few short calculations and the space streamed into the stunning blue that denoted faster-than-light travel. She may have lost her parents permanently after this, but that didn’t matter. She had no regrets. She leaned her chair back, and as she fell asleep the words of that ancient terran hymn swam in her mind: Nothing compares to the promise I have in You…

When Najenkur arrived on the Smuell homeworld of Somu’e Thursday evening, she hadn’t expected to find anything particularly pressing. Cults sprouted up all the time, especially among people as superstitious as the Smuell. Not that Naj had to like it.

Her contact, an Ajnin operative under the guise of a street urchin, led her to the enclave where the cult had been meeting. “Anything I should know before I go in there?” She asked him.
“Well. They are all psionics users,” he said. “I’m sure they already know you’re here, as strong a psionic signature as Senarians have.”
“Wonderful,” Naj remarked dryly.

She entered the building in full stealth mode, with barely a slit of the stealth field pulled away to let her see. She wore a psi-blocking visor to prevent the inhabitants from seeing the slit that represented the visible part Naj’s psionic signal with their third eyes.
Naj crept through several long corridors before coming to her first obstacle, a door with two guards. Not that the guards were any problem, but the door itself was obviously not designed with a nine-foot-tall Senarian in mind. The second obstacle was in the same place, though less obvious. Security cameras. Were she to take out the guards and open the door, she would be caught. Thankfully the door opened briefly, and through the threshold came several Smuell and a Ki’lail with two Ajnin bodyguards. The Ki’lail had very pale, aged looking skin. His hair was a deep, dark sapphire. Najenkur thought for a minute he looked familiar, but it couldn’t be. Ki’lail don’t live that long.
Najenkur, as quietly as she could, ran towards the door and dived through it and between the two guards. She used her psi, which didn’t have the benefit of being focused through a third eye, like that of Smuell and Ki’lail, to slow her decent enough not to make a noise when she landed. A few surreptitious glances later, she was back in the most important tool of espionage: darkness. In fact, the entire complex was strangely dark, which, while a stupid design mistake, was very convenient for any infiltrator.
Naj crept cautiously down a long corridor, mostly carved out of the natural rock now. After at least fifteen minutes, she got to what seemed to be the end. There was an alcove cut in the rock, and the far wall registered a bit warmer on her thermal than the rest. She used her mind to loosen a rock precariously lodged in the cave wall and it fell and rolled through the alcove’s end as if not there. As Naj expected, a hologram. She only tested it with a rock to avoid testing it with her head. On the other side, the Senarian spy found herself in an enormous courtyard. She stood on a balcony overlooking some bizarre apparatus that resonated with psionic energy. And in the center, was Jirinau Tulva.
Najenkur didn’t want to believe it at first. How? Tulva was Ki’lail, and he couldn’t possibly still be alive. They had met nearly 190 years ago, and then he was already in his eighties. But it was impossible to mistake. That was Tulva, and he was still alive. He was obviously aged. His body looked as though it was falling apart. But that likeness was unmistakable. Perhaps he was a clone.
The assistants that had been with him earlier, sans the bodyguards, entered through a side door behind him. The one that took up the rear pushed a hover-cart full of small ovoid gems that glowed with a faint pink light. And Naj could feel them radiating psionic energies. And they felt like… people. The assistants placed nine different crystals in cylindrical podiums surrounding the platform on which Tulva stood. After a few chilling chants in So’muish and Ki’lian, The podiums glowed and light was everywhere. And beams shot from the podiums were pounding into Tulva and being absorbed. And when the lightshow was over, the assistants were dead, or lying unconscious, and Tulva alone stood, looking not a day older than thirty.

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Chapter Five: Parade of Bloodlust

Jim arrived at Felt at noon on Monday. Felt was a pretty world to look at. Not, however, a nice place to live, at least in Jim’s humble opinion. First, it was cold. It was frigid compared to Kanta. Jim once heard that in winter people had froze to death on the equator! It was probably a myth, or a joke that became an urban legend, but it wasn’t really unbelievable.
Strangely, Jim had been invited to the house of General Colonel F. Greglithf, rather than any imperial command station. He set his boat down on the carport outside Greglithf’s house and entered. The house wasn’t extravagant, but it certainly wasn’t sparse ether. The interior was covered in finished hardwood that didn’t look to be of Feltian origin. He followed the natural progression of rooms until he found what appeared to be study. There, in one of a pair of teal armchairs next to a large fireplace, sat the general in uniform. He was reading a book and appeared to have been smoking a pipe, which was very strange for a Feltian. Colonel looked up.
“Welcome Lt. Raynor,” he said. His tone was surprising because it wasn’t the strict “general tone” that he had always heard Greglithf use. It was more of an old-man tone. The kind of tone that someone else’s benevolent grandfather would use to greet a visitor when visitors had been sparse.
“Sir,” Jim acknowledged. He wasn’t sure what to make of Greglithf’s unusually jovial tone.
“Have a seat,” said the general. He pointed to a huge trophy mounted on his wall. It was some kind of enormous turquoise creature with humanoid features and massive horns. “You see this on my wall here?” he asked rhetorically.
“Sir, yes sir, very hard to miss, sir,” came Jim’s nervous reply.
“This here is a hathalou ghoct,” the general continued. “Shot’im back in 64’—I was a much younger man then, Mr. Raynor.”

Jim nodded, not wanting to agree or dispute in fear of arousing the infamous Greglthf temper.
“Alas, I am now much too old to go on the hunt. But strategy. Strategy is my calling now. And allowing terrorist cults to go unchecked is not sound strategy. Unfortunately, that is what is happening. Ever since the ToFu act, these crazy hate cults have gone unchecked and threaten to evaporate the fragile peace this galaxy finally enjoys”
The “ToFu” act the general had referred to in the speech he had obviously been rehearsing was the now-infamous Total Freedom of Religion Act of 2365. It basically made any and every cult legal within the Empire of Earth. Before, only monotheistic religions that the constitution had deemed “legitimate” had been allowed to practice in open public. Unfortunately, a small group of Parthonian activists had pushed for a new stance, and more unfortunately, it had won. The fruits of this mistake were reaped in 2470 when the same Parthonian groups ceased control of the government facility on Iif and used its defenses to level half a city in the name of their god of justice Salith. Apparently the Parthonians had some sort of taboo against eating cucumbers, which was the chief industry on Iif at the time. Jim’s opinion of the law hadn’t increased any when his brother Trav had been killed in an uprising of Vorth Monks.
“What are you talking about, sir?”
“I am talking about a new cult called the Eyes of Vengeance. They are mostly Smuell and Ki’lail. The have a furiously anti-Senarian rhetoric. They hate Senarians. And they are militant. Or so the evidence indicates.”
“Can one really blame them for hating Senarians?” Jim inquired, tongue in cheek.
“This is serious! No joking Raynor! Your orders are to infiltrate their enclave on the outskirts of Coil. Gather info and report back to me.” The aged-general handed Jim an equipper and bid him fairwell.

Jim reached the location of the cult’s enclave on the outskirts of Felts’ capital city within the next four hours. He used a second quipper to cloak himself in the most inconspicuous clothing one could use on a man of Jim’s size. He flowed though the endless stream of pedestrians, trying not to stand out among Coil’s 500 million inhabitants and visitors.
On the outskirts of the city, he ran into a suburban area in which the cult was known to operate. After a few minutes he came upon what appeared to be a parade. A parade made of mostly Smuell and Ki’lail. He heard their loud chant from several blocks away.

Boiin-Moiin-FanTan-Choin
Boiin-Moiin-FanTan-Choin Ba-Doin
Boin Moin Fantach oin Bad al-al oin.

To avoid the mind-reading glares of the paradeers’ third eyes, Jim ducked into a narrow side street. There he found it crowded but manageable. Then he saw a Smuell in a familiar robe, with the three-eye insignia. He had his back to Jim, and walked hurriedly, concealing something in this cloak. Jim knew then that the parade was only a diversion for some less legitimate business. He followed the Smuell as he droned on in the annoying singsong dialect of So’muish.

Boiin-Moiin-FanTan-Choin
Boiin-Moiin-FanTan-Choin Ba-Doin
Boin Moin Fantach oin Bad al-al oin.

Jim had been cautious not to be caught following his quarry. It was obvious that this guy was no genius. He was clearly a lackey and, by extension, lacked any real intelligence. Otherwise he wouldn’t have been chanting his religious mantra the whole way home.
After following him for about half a mile through the crowded streets of the capital, the careless cultist had found his way to an ancient and purportedly abandoned district of the city. There, predator and prey made their way to an ancient cathedral in honor of who knew what. Jim turned on his stealth field and followed the foolish Smuell in.
The Smuell cultist chanted his mantra again at the altar and it slid away, revealing a staircase that Jim followed him down cautiously. The basement corridor led to a huge open convocation center where hundreds of three-eyed creatures were gathered in front of stage with a large podium. And they were all chanting.

All chanting…

Boiin-Moiin-FanTan-Choin
Boiin-Moiin-FanTan-Choin Ba-Doin
Boin Moin Fantach oin Bad al-al oin.

The curtain at the end of the stage pealed away and from behind it stepped a beautiful Ki’lail woman. Her hair was shoulder-length and a deep magenta, and her three eyes scanned the crowd of followers. From their now-wild euphoria, Jim had no doubt she was the cult’s leader. She steeped forward to an audio-mic and began to speak in Ki’lian. Jim extended the reach of his stealth field, and brought out his pocket translator and read the speech she gave.

”…And, at last we will take our vengeance. The Senarians that so long ago drove us away from our homes and tore apart our empire will fall. And we will then be free to reclaim the control of the Galaxy that is rightfully ours!!!! I have now obtained the final key to our victory. The key that has so long eluded us is now in my possession. Shortly I will decipher the coordinates of the weapon. The weapon that was stolen from us so long ago! I go now to our home base on Somu’e to meet with my master, Tulva. He will then go with me to the Starless of old and we will destroy the hated enemy forever!”

Jim shuddered as he read off the text. If memory served him correctly, about 800 years before terrans had come to the Aldranea galaxy, Senarians had invaded the space of the ancient Xel Empire and torched Ki’lai and Somu’e from space. And then there was the legend of the starless weapon planet. It was said that the ancient Senarian General Pelenthou Kehkz captured it and had used it to win that war.

If it really existed…

Then the crowed started again, louder than ever. Boiin-Moiin…Jim looked down at his translator again and read the numbing chant that he had been hearing for hours but not comprehending.

“The Secret Within!
The Secret Within! For Revenge!
The secret inside that will avenge us and make us whole!”


© Copyright 2005 Chaltab. All rights reserved. Distribution of any kind is prohibited without the written consent of Chaltab. All views expressed by the characters are the views of the characters and may not reflect the views of the author.

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first thought wow, second thought i should really read this, third thought bump
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You really have a copyright of that Chaltab?
“Voice or no voice, the people can always be brought to the bidding of the leaders. That is easy. All you have to do is tell them they are being attacked and denounce the pacifists for lack of patriotism and exposing the country to danger. It works the same in any country.” — Nazi Reich Marshal Hermann Goering
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US Copyright law basically says intilectual property you produce automatically has an understood copyright on it. I had that story originally posted at Fictionpress.com and it automatically places the copyright notice at the end of every chapter you upload.

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Thats awsome! Maybe i'll think of writing something now.
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Chapter Six: An Act of Deception

It was Friday evening by the time Sarah was ready for her ultimate mission. The mission that would test ever element of her training and force her to suppress her very personality and compassion. She had had to prepare physically, first. Ever identifying mark on her body had to be removed. And then she had to be scarred. Prosthetics wouldn’t work. The scars were carefully reconstructed to the smallest detail.

And it hurt like daucht. The voice was simpler. A set of nano-bots that Sarah inhaled moved and stretched her vocal cords just enough to perfectly emulate the voice. But the first step had been the surgery. Her cheekbones had been raised to match those of whom she impersonated. Her lower jaw had been altered to hide the fact that it was sharper than it should be. And after three days of surgery Sarah had physically become the mercenary Kiva Andur of Jomanian.
Becoming her mentally was even harder. The blit that was hidden in the mercenary’s body had contained of all things a digi-journal. From it, the imperials had reconstructed every minute detail of Kiva’s relationship with the pirate ship Iien Blian. Or so they hoped. Sarah had determined from her own readings that Kiva rarely stayed on the ship for more than a day at a time. She had only one person on it that she trusted, a half-Vurkan called “Private Ishori.” Kiva had been sent to Laredo City, the capital of planet Texas, to extract a set of stellar coordinates from a three-eyed thug named Sirius White.

The deal had gone bad when her companion Tem Path had read White’s mind. Appearantly, Kiva wanted to know what the coordinates were for and, rather than asking politely, had invited White’s wrath in the form of a psionic virus that had eventually killed Path. In their hide-away, a broken down hospital in the Rio Grande district, Path had relayed to Kiva the info that she had learned from White. Unfortunately, the nature of that data was encrypted on the data cards that were in the blit. So, Sarah had to go convince complete strangers that she was a cruel merc that they knew personally and figure out what the significance of all this was. No problem.
Sarah stepped out into the docking bay from the side room. Among other things, Kiva had left the coordinates for rendezvous with the Iien Blian and much invaluable information about Kiva’s routine while on the ship. From all that the intelligence team at Laredo could determine, Kiva never would spend more than two days on the ship at a time, to avoid being around when and if the law discovered the pirates. Yalm Wessil and General Hammock stepped forward from the middle of the bay.

“Lieutenant,” said Hammock, “I’m not even going to give you any warnings. You have a job to do, and it is time you go do it. Good luck.”
Now Wessil said, “Have you memorized the layout of the ship? You know where to go if you’re told to go to your quarters or your battle station?”
“Yes to all three,” Said Sarah. The voice that came from her mouth surprised her. She would never adapt to having tiny machines manipulate her vocal cords to the pitch and octave of Kiva Andur’s voice. The latest model left only the faintest trace of mechanical feedback, so small it could only be detected by machines knowing exactly what to look for. Needless to say, speaking with another’s voice was quite disconcerting to Sarah, but she would have to get used to it. “I’m ready,” Sarah said at length.

She approached Kiva’s space boat that sat docked in Bay 5 of the Imperial Frigate Enforcer. It was of Senarian design, which made good sense, Andur being from the Confederate world of Jomanian. Sarah inserted everything she thought she would need into the blit in her boot, and anything that Kiva would likely bring into the blit in her thy. It was the same one in the real Andur’s thy, disinfected after removal, of course. It was quite unnerving to have metal where muscle should be. A dormant tracking device had been installed in Kiva’s leg along with a newer model of her implanted blit. Sarah knew that hoping that Kiva would be dumb enough not to remove the tracking device was wishful thinking. Veijan mercenaries didn’t survive as pirates without being very good, and very good meant intelligent as well. That was, of course, if she could be restored to her body.

In less than fifteen minutes, Sarah was ready to take off. She fired up the boat’s sub-light engines and maneuvered out of the docking bay and made for open space. Within another five minutes, Sarah had clearance to jump to the rendezvous point. She set the coordinates and activated the warp drive, and set back to prepare mentally for the deception while the stars elongated and became the vast blue torrent called hyperspace. It was a 2-day flight to the rendezvous point, near her own home planet New Jersey. She emerged from hyperspace near a worthless frozen rock called Yellana. There weren’t many ships in the system, but the few that were there were maintaing a discrete distance from each other. One in particular caught Sarah’s eye. It was a large shuttle, capable of making Warp-Ten easily. And its transponder code matched that of the shuttle that she was supposed to be meeting here. Sarah switched on a comm. channel and hailed the shuttle Lyberia.

“Lyberia, this is Kiva. Requesting permission to dock.”
“Phoenix! Why aren’t you using your code name?” Came the hasted response from the shuttle commander. Wonderful. Fifteen seconds in and she already made a huge mistake.
“Calm down,” came Sarah’s improvisational reply. “There aren’t any cops for three hundred terra-zivits. I’m not that stupid.” She said it with enough harshness and frustration to not sound apologetic.
“Cops? Phoenix, I ain’t worried about the daucht police. I am thinking that if any of the competition learns who you are, they’ll end our party real quick.” And sure enough, several of the other pirate vessels had set a course for the shuttle. “Never mind, they’re already on there way,” the shuttle pilot added.

“I can handle this,” Sarah shot back with the brash arrogance that one would expect from a mercenary as accomplished as Andur. Sarah did some tinkering and eventually got the reactor to go critical. She set a course directly for the nearest pirate vessel at ramming speed... Any one else, and this would be suicide, unless the shuttle had a transporter. But not Sarah. She knew a few maneuvers.
Placing her index and middle finger together on her forehead, and ignoring the frantic protests of the shuttle’s pilot, Sarah reached out with her life sense ability, the ability to feel other peoples’ ki. She focused on the pilot of the shuttle. Human male, fairly weak, but strong enough for this to work. Sarah pulsated energy around her body, her latent psionic power from her distant Ki’lail heritage and her ki from her less distant Veijan ancestry. And suddenly she was gone, removed forcefully, atom-by-atom, from the doomed space boat. Her vision, indeed all of her physical sense, was gone, but she could feel herself floating through the void of space, drifting closer toward her target. And then reality flooded back over her as she snapped back into a physical existence. Looking at her wrist-clock, she saw that it took 5 minutes to get from A to B at the speed of light.

And then she saw the terrified shuttle pilot swing a blunt object at her. She dodged down and to the right, lifted both her arms in defense, and smacked the man hard enough in the chest to send him staggering back two yards. “You moron. It’s me!”
“Kiva! How the Slin did you get her?”

“Something I picked up on Haven once. Never thought I’d have to use it.” At least the first half of that was true, Sarah told herself. “Now shut up and get us the Slin out of here!” She didn’t feel right swearing when not angry, but she wasn’t playing the part of a moral character.

Just then, a flash outside the cockpit fortiglass confirmed the destruction of the spaceboat. Whether it took any of the pirate ships with it wasn’t important anymore, although for the sakes of the pirates, Sarah hoped that they had noticed the unstable reactor and shot it down before it was close enough to vaporize them. She wasn’t on a mission to slaughter pirates.
By the time the two got into the cockpit, Sarah had recollected the name of the pilot, Geshin Thex, from the journal. Thex flicked some switches and a holographic display showed the position of shuttle Lyberia in relation to the other objects in the system. The pirate vessels had taken the hint and backed off, but there was one large ship that hadn’t broken pursuit, and it had deployed many smaller objects.
“Fighters,” said Thex. “At least 40 of them, coming in from starboard aft.” He switched on the auto-turrets and said to Sarah, “Kiva, take the main gun. I’ll get us ready. They’ll be here in 10 minutes, but it will take at least twelve to get into a clear vector. We’ll have to fight them.”

Sarah stumbled her way to the gun labeled main and climbed the ladder into the swivel seat. She waited there for ten minutes, silently preparing to kill in the name of self-defense. Then the fighters arrived and the time for moral dilemmas was over. The first flight of 12 fighters was closing in from all angles. Suddenly, Thex shifted the shuttle into high gear, and they took off. Sarah aimed carefully and riddled the nearest fighter with fire from her gun. It was a Tye beam-machinegun, and had a very fast rate of fire. In an instant, the first target erupted into a ball of fire and there were 11 left. The aft dorsal gun suddenly flared to life and Sarah saw that there was a Noth’xal woman manning the backup weapon. Had she been on the ship the whole time?

Lasers lanced out from her gun and in a minute there were seven enemy fighters left.

The kitty was good.
Then the shuttle went into a complex series of rolls and spins—evasive maneuvers—that nearly caused Sarah to loose her last meal. She set the inertial dampener in her gun to max and set the turret display to ignore the dizzying starfield. A second target crossed her cross hairs and it was quickly vaporized as well. Finally the fighters were close enough to make out details. They were Zurro class, modified heavily. Sarah had fought their kind before, and there was really nothing to it. The fact that they were the alpha squadron said a lot about the pirates that used them. Two flashes denoted the destruction of two more fighters by the Noth’xal woman. Four left.
The photon cannons on the fighters activated and the display was suddenly filled with red lines denoting enemy attacks. The shuttle began dodging wildly and Sarah found the source of one of the streams of harmful energy and squeezed the trigger. Energy lanced out in tiny glowing bullets of doom and that fighter was dead. Sarah saw his remains drift out of the ball of wreckage. Then there was a violent shake and the side of the shuttle was venting atmosphere. That means the shields are breached, Sarah thought. She then started firing wildly at the three remaining ships and the Noth woman did so as well. Two bright flashes and then another violent hit. The fighter dropped underneath the shuttle where Sarah and the skilled feline couldn’t shoot him. He was undoubtedly the leader. Or maybe just the smartest of the bunch.

The shuttle shuddered and started to flip, but was rocked back the other way by a concussive blast to the ventral shields. Well, at least those still work. Then the fighter shot back up and bee-lined it for the pirate vessel. It was only after that Sarah realized the drives were no longer working.

Then they came to life again. Sarah knew the tactic well. Make an enemy incapable of capturing your ship think you were disabled, then get out of there before the reinforcements could arrive.

The leader had almost rejoined the main body of fighters when Sarah took careful aim and prayed Lord, make my aim true. She switched the cannon to focus mode, so rather than gatlin-like energy balls, it would shoot a golden spear of destructive light. Then she squeezed the trigger and waited for the results. With in five seconds, the fighter exploded and the remaining fighters of the original forty retreated, taking the hint loud and clear.

Sarah powered down the gun as the stars elongated and light was outraced. She slipped back into the cockpit with the Noth’xal, who the journal identified as Mishi Xoluniti.

“So, Thex,” she said, “what has Cortez been up to while I was gone?”
“Don’t be so friendly, Kiva.” Geshin said it with such derision, that Sarah knew Kiva must be ranked lower than he. “The captain is livid, Kiva. You blotched a mission, and cost the captain a lot of money.”
“Daucht,” Sarah swore in character, “That klitching Ki’lail that I was supposed to pay killed Tem Path and would’ve killed me.”
“The captain also told you to go alone. He doesn’t like his instructions being ignored.” This time Thex’s tone suggested he was trying to trap Sarah. If she were already suspected a fake, things would get difficult. If he trapped her here, and didn’t let her know, she was as good as dead.
Sarah shrugged and said, “Did he?” She figured it was about the best non-committal response she could give in this situation.
“You ought to pay more attention, Andur. You don’t get paid to klatch-up”
Sarah was tired from the fight and already perturbed by almost blowing cover. She left the cockpit, throwing a comment about a long day over her shoulder, and headed back to the barest of the three quarters, presumably the one not used by Thex or Mishi. She collapsed on the bunk and drifted off to sleep.

Geshin Thex looked up at Mishi, his copilot and bodyguard. They were both likely thinking the same thing, and there was no point in not bringing it up with her. “Is it just me or does Kiva seem.. um.. off today?”
“Other than I’ve never seen her so accurate in a turret, then not really,” came the Noth’xal’s answer.
“Yeah, but I meant the call. You really believe she forgot to use her call sign? And what of the reports of her death?”
“Well, she is obviously not dead, and… Well, look who speaks. You yourself have neglected the use of your call sign on numerous occasions.”

She had a point.

“Eh… maybe it’s just the adrenaline,” said Thex as he activated the autopilot.

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Chapter Seven: Alliance Forged

There was light everywhere. It was so bright that he had to close his eyes. And when he did he could still see. He saw patterns of color that he knew, somehow, were people. There were fifteen in all. Five were far away, one dominated them all, alone standing. Three lay on the ground, and the fifth was somehow both suppressed and radiant. It was awesome. He looked closely and saw a another being. Right in front of him. And then the light and dark faded and reality reemerged.

Jim snapped awake, disoriented, confused. His eyes acted as though he just stared into bright light… As he regained his vision, he found himself in some kind of cave. Memory slowly returned, or it seemed slow, at least. He had reported back to Greglthf after learning of the cult on… Somu’e… Yes, that is where he was. Somu’e.

He had left Felt and arrived on the Confederate world by Thursday morning… he had tracked the woman…
Her name was Maurin Ueiva, a Ki’lail debutante who had a notorious history of vicious anti-Senarian rhetoric. She was purportedly about 40, but she looked much younger. And she had a feeling of one who had weathered the ages… In the way she spoke and carried herself. Jim couldn’t explain it, but she had a confidence that Jim had only seen before on the oldest of Senarians.
Jim had arrived just before her, it seemed, on her cult’s home base of Somu’e, and had spent most of Thursday afternoon tracking her down. He had followed her into a complex, mostly carved out of rock. … Where he was now. He had almost given up and turned back at an end that was apparently dead, when a convenient rock had fallen loose and revealed that the back wall was a hologram. He had gone through. He was on some sort of high-up balcony in a large auditorium, where the old Ki’lail had just been fried. And then he had blacked out…

He looked out over the assembly that had zapped the old man. He could barely conceal a gasp when he realized that the old man standing on the middle of the platform was no longer old. The Ki’lail looked no older than his early thirties now, and in the pit, his aids lay on the ground. He could tell even from the height of the upper level that that at least two of them were dead. The sapphire-haired three-eye man stood as if experiencing utter bliss, his eyes closed, smiling as if he’d just beaten the final boss of Triple-Super-Bot II Turbo. He opened his eyes and his smile faded. Ueiva had joined him in the room, but Jim didn’t realize until just then it because of a black obstruction…
A very black obstruction. It seemed to be hanging in mid-air, and it was a shape Jim found all-too-familiar. A Senarian battle visor silhouette, double the size of his own visor, could only mean one thing. There was someone here, also infiltrating, someone very much larger than Jim. Someone very much less human.

The Ki’lail man spoke now, looking dangerously in the direction of Jim and the invisible Senarian agent. “Hello, Jim Raynor and Najenkur Kehkz,” he said.

That shook Najenkur to her core. Somehow, he had been so empowered by the energy surging through his body, he saw Najenkur through her cloak field and anti-Psionic visor. But who was this Jim? She glanced back over her left shoulder and stared strait into the invisible face of the human infiltrator behind her, hinted at only by a visor barely three zivits long and one wide. She silently whispered a prayer of protection and launched to her feet. She no longer had any doubt she would have to kill to get out of here alive.
Tulva spoke again. “Yes. I know you are there. Both of you. I can assure you, even if you escape with your lives, you will never prevent us from destroying that which we hate. We have already won this fight.” He reached for the comlink that the magenta-haired woman had offered him. He raised it to his mouth and spoke. “Put the base on full alert, and deploy the EMP.”
Alarms began to blare and shortly after that, a surge ran through her cloaking device, shorting it out.. She turned and saw a human male, tall for one of his species. He drew his guns and cocked his head at an angle. “Well,” he said. “It looks like we are in for a fight.”

Jim and his unexpected ally, this Kehkz woman, bolted down the corridor they had used to enter the complex. The hologram was now not working since all the electronics in the base had just been fried. But that didn’t matter to either side. Jim had some very old-fashioned guns, and the Senarian’s gender identified her as a sword-wielding type. Male Senarians preferred energy blades, so Jim was thankful that she was a she.
Just as the pair had rounded the corner and stepped into a large circular room, the had to stop and dodge a pair of psi-lasers beaming from third eyes of the guards so easy to slip past before. Jim hit the floor, dodging left, and brought his guns up firing. He missed, and another laser streaked over his head. He rolled out from behind the rock to his right and squeazed off two rounds into the Smuell’s bulbous cranium. He fell, limp. Several other guards had joined the fight by now, however.
The Senarian woman leapt into the air and landed behind a new guard, her sword cutting him clean in half before her feet touched down. She turned to her right and defended against the laser from an old GW II-era blaster pistol.

Her sword glowed from the impact.

Being a kinetic sword, Jim knew it would cut better when it got hotter, brighter, or more electrically charged—and a laser blast would have all three of those effects.

Jim fired again at two newcomers with his sub-machine gun, tearing holes in their armor, or at least knocking them back a few steps. Jim launched himself behind another rock at the far end of the room, landing in a puddle of water. He fired across the cave at an attacker in the Senarian’s blind-side, and had the grim satisfaction of watching his lifeless body flip-over backwards. Why can’t the bad guys just run like cowards for a change?
Najenkur was now exchanging sword blows with a Ki’lail swordsman, the last of this group of attackers and about two-thirds as tall as the Senarian. The fact that he was holding his own told Jim he was good. Very good. Too good.

So, Jim shot him.
“What are you doing?!” Najenkur said. Screamed, really.
“Helping out,” Jim replied.
“Helping? You just shot a man who was engaged in a sword fight. That is on page one of the book of dishonorable warfare!”

Jim decided she was insane, but he could tell she was livid, so he apologized. “Sorry. I didn’t know it meant that much to you.” He surveyed the carnage that they had just wreaked on the guards. “We need to keep moving. They just might nuke the place,” he said at length. She stared daggers at Jim, but said nothing, so they started down the corridor together.

Najenkur had had to use her psi to open the doors on the way out, but there wasn’t much more fighting. Two guards waited at the exit, and she had split the first one down the middle herself with her two antiquated kalatani blades. She allowed the human to shoot the other. She couldn’t help but cringe at having to kill to survive, but she also knew that this was bigger than herself. What ever Tulva was doing, people were going to die if he succeeded.
“Well,” said the human. “What do we do now?”

What now indeed? She looked at the human, intently, and began to read his mind. By the end of the minute, she had determined that he was legitimate.
“First, we should tell each other who we are, and why we were in there. I am Lt. Colonel Najenkur Kehkz, North Confederation military. I was ordered to investigate this cult on the grounds that they may have developed or discovered a weapon capable of killing many in a terrorist act.”
“Then our missions are the same,” the human confirmed. “Lieutenant Jim Raynor, Imperial Army,” he saluted. He looked around. “We need to go somewhere safe if we’re going to talk. They might come back—maybe just to kill us.”

Within the hour, they were at a Confederate Military headquarters on Somu’e. Najenkur suggested that they should pool their knowledge about the Eyes of Vengeance and see what they could come up with together. After a while, their efforts, which included mining the exhaustive databanks of the Confederate Galaxy Network, turned up mostly nothing.
“Is there anything else you didn’t tell me? Anything that might give us a clue as to where to go next?” Even as Naj said the words, she just then noticed the exhaustion in her own voice.

The human lieutenant thought for a moment and said, “Well. She did say something about an ‘ancient weapon’ that was stolen by the Senarians. Something about the ‘Starless.’”

And that stopped Najenkur in her mental tracks. “A starless planet?” she asked.
“Maybe.” Jim replied. “The translator just said ‘the starless,’ whatever that means.”
Najenkur knew all to well what it could mean. She keyed in a search for “Et nama-kan” After a while, security clearance was required. Very high security. That meant she was making progress. She typed in her authorization, which was just barely adequate for the file. It was very old, dating back more than 1000 years; it was so old that much of the text was in Old Senarian, the Shakespeare version of the Senarian Language, if one wills. “Come over here,” she said to human.
“What’s up?” he asked.

“I don’t suppose you can read Senarian. This is an ancient document about an incident that mentions ‘the Starless’ and ‘the dead system.’ About 1200 years ago, during the Senarian war with the Xel Empire, the Xel purportedly had a weapon of immense power. According to this, my—A Senarian general captured the weapon and used it to ‘put-out’ the star in that system. The shockwave tore the inhabited world apart, killing millions.”
“How come we imperials have never heard that there is a weapon in Confederate space that can collapse stars?” Jim asked.
“I’ve never heard of this myself, Lt. Raynor. This isn’t common knowledge at all. I’ve heard legends all my life a starless planet that acts as an all-powerful weapon, but it is never given second thought. It is believed to be only a legend. And the stories have never mentioned genocide.

“Furthermore, it doesn’t say it collapsed the star. The way it’s worded, you get the sense that the star didn’t leave a black hole or anything; it is just gone. I don’t know what that means, but it is clear that if this is true, then this thing Tulva and Ueiva are after could destroy the Confederation.”

Jim considered this for a moment and then pointed to the four Senarian characters on the screen that she had been hoping to avoid explaining. He said, “Hey, that says ‘Kehkz,’ just like your last name. Relative of yours?”
“So you can read Senarian,” she dodged. “Yes, Pelenthou Kehkz is my ancestor. He—“
“He was the general who defeated the Xel,” Jim finished for her. “I know my military history, and Senarian Language is a required course at the academy. So basically, you’re saying that your ancestor committed genocide. No wonder Tulva feels so much hate for you.”
“You noticed? I don’t think I’ve ever felt that pure a hatred.” Najenkur thought about the bright light, and the transfiguration of Tulva, and how she could feel his unadulterated hate for her coursing through him, after learning her name during the brief seconds their minds bonded. She shuddered. Even this non-psionic human could feel it.

Jim took a closer look at the screen. “So what are the coordinates of the planet?” He inquired.
Naj sighed heavily. “They aren’t given, and I understand why. But I don’t know how it could remain hidden for so long. Even if there is no star, the light it has given off must just now be reaching the edge of the galaxy; it would be thousands of years before it is all gone. And if there is starlight, someone will undoubtedly jump there, if for no better reason than to hide from police.”
“Maybe it is obstructed, or something.”
“If it was near the edge or core of the galaxy possibly, but we can’t just jump towards ever pinpoint of light we see.”
Najenkur looked up to see Jim tinkering with a small electronic device at the table across the room. “What is that she asked?”
He turned the device on and smiled. “It is a tracking device,” he said. “Tuned to the frequency of the homing beacon that I put on Tulva’s ship before I entered the base.”
“Well,” Naj said with a wry smile, “It is as good of a next-step as I can think of.”



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Chapter Eight: The Pirate Ship

It was about seven hours in warp-flight at an unknown speed before Sarah felt the shuttle revert into normal space. She had been lying on the cot in the empty quarters, drifting in and out of sleep. She had to prepare again, now, for her performance as Kiva Andur.
Sarah made her way into the cockpit, wary of the possibility that her cover was already blown. Thex was in the pilot’s seat, with the Noth’xal woman beside him. Sarah took a moment to study Mishi Xoluniti. She was about 5 feet tall, with a light brown fur covering most of her body. Her exposed midriff was covered in white fur, and in some places the colors collided and mixed. Her most notable attire was the numerous slots and straps in her clothing filled with knives and guns.

Thex was a rather plain human in his early thirties. He had bleached-white hair, and wore some drab olive-green pants and a faded brown vest over a salmon-red shirt. There were no obvious weapons on his person, but Sarah assumed he had at least a knife or small gun concealed somewhere in his attire.
“So, the amazon has finally come out of hibernation,” said Thex when he perceived that she was in the room. “Just hailed the Blian and we’re clear to dock. Anything you want to bring, get it now.”
Sarah nodded almost imperceptibly. “All my things were vaped with my spaceboat.”
Thex looked up at the woman he thought was Kiva. “Right.”

Sarah looked out the viewport at the long slender silver object in the distance. So. This was the famous pirate vessel that had been evading authorities for years. It was an RPO-377 Viego-class frigate. Iien Blian, which meant “Prosperous Future.”, was captained by the notorious Juan Cortez. Cortez had been a student at the Confederate military academy on Randeraal where he had lost his right eye in a training exercise. He still graduated with honors, and became the commander of a small but powerful flotilla in the Confederate Navy. After his crew had been massacred near the start of the fourth Galactic War, he and a few survivors had started a pirate ring to cut in on the established powers of Tyf, Soron, and Yee. Why he abandoned his career for piracy, no one could explain.
Sarah glanced down at the distance gauge and her mouth almost fell open. Twenty thousand kilozivits? That couldn’t be right. If that were the distance then that ship would have to be almost 2000 meters long! Sarah then realized she had never seen a Viego outside of old documentaries. It never registered to her that a pirate vessel could be so large. It was obvious then that Cortez was running no small operation. He was truly a force to be reckoned with in the galaxies criminal element. It was another fifteen minutes before the shuttle Lyberia finally set down in the Blian’s 5-D docking bay. Mishi went on a head to reassume her role as Cortez’s personal bodyguard, and

Kiva was becoming anxious.

Geshin understood why. After blotching a mission that was worth so much money to the captain and Kiva, Cortez would probably chew the Slin out of her. Not that verbal abuse ever fazed Kiva Andur, but the Captain had other methods. If his pet, the Majis Flying-Lizard he called Torval were to spit its venom onto her skin, Kiva would suffer for days in the most exquisite agony that Thex new of. He had felt it himself once when he panicked and ran after the police showed up during a mission. Sure he saved twenty lives, but the captain’s cousin had been killed. And to Cortez, family often took precedence over economics.
The back hatched opened and formed the boarding ramp, and Geshin and Kiva stepped off and were greeted by the powers that be. Cortez’s first mate, Kelly Hulin, stood right the captain in her pale-skinned scantily clad splendor. Mishi took his left flank, eyes alert for any sign of treachery, even among the crew. The weapons officer, a half Vurkan that everyone called Private Ishori, stood back near the door opening onto the corridor, her enourmous positron bazooka in hand.
“Ah, Kiva,” Cortez started in his characteristic accented English, “it is good to see that your are unharmed. I had heard more than one report that you were dead.”
“I’m hard to kill,” Kiva returned with her typical nonchalant arrogance. Typical… Whatever had been afflicting her earlier seemed to be gone.
“Yes. The same was said of Temula Path, my friend.” Now it was on. “I told you to go alone. I specifically said that taking anyone, especially a Ki’lail, would endanger the mission. And now, by her absence, It seems that Path is dead.” Cortez calm tone hardly hid the fact that he was furious.
“Maybe you’re warning is why I took her,” Kiva retorted, looking the captain straight in his eye. “Maybe I wanted to know exactly what it is you were buying…”
“Shut up,” this came from the first officer, Kelly Hulin. “What happened happened. We can’t be at each other’s throats when we have a job tomorrow.” Hulin glared at Kiva with her typical contempt.

Kelly was really jealous, constantly fearing that Cortez would opt to replace her with Kiva. But she also knew that an attack on a major target within 30 could never go well with the captain’s brains splattered on the docking-bay floor, so she ultimately knew what she was doing. The captain simply nodded and dismissed everyone gathered. As the guards and crew filed out, Ishori and Kiva shared their customary embrace. Geshin thought he would be sick.

Sarah thought she would have collapsed and began crying if the confrontation with Cortez had gone on any longer. Sarah was already self-conscious enough with her outfit, which showed a great deal more skin than Sarah found comfortable. Her outfit was basically an armored sports bra with oversized shoulder plates. Her stomach was exposed, revealing the scar across her upper abdomen, recreated by the medical bots in painstaking detail from Kiva’s own body. Her bare arms also displayed duplicated scars, and the right leg of her synthe-leather pants was cut out to display the scar on the front of her thy.

Most unsettling of all, however, was hate-filled stare of Kelly Hulin. It had really gotten to her. Sarah didn’t know exactly why Kiva was so hated by the first officer, but she realized it would make her job harder already having enemies. She should have known that Kelly was that way, from all the times Kiva had referred to her with or as various obscenities in her journal.
So, Lt. Steele was more than glad when the Vurkan woman called Private Ishori greeted her warmly. This young Vurkan was the only person in the galaxy that Kiva considered her friend. She looked up at Sarah with her young and vulnerable features. To Sarah, it didn’t seem right that someone who looked so innocent should be the weapons officer on a pirate vessel.
“Kiva!” the Vurkan said with surprising enthusiasm. “I’m glad you’re back.”
“Private,” Sarah started, trying not to sound awkward., “have you always been this hyper?”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Ishori faked hurt. “You didn’t even send me anything while you were gone. Does that mean you’ve forgotten me?”
“How could I forget someone as insane as you?” Sarah dodged. She said it with a smile perceptible enough that Ishori would take it as a joke. Still, even then, she couldn’t seem to make the trace of suspicion in the Vurkan’s eyes disappear.

It was only several hours later that Sarah finally had the opportunity to relax. She had long know of a way to radiate her ki and psi together to make a form of radiation capable of disrupting security cameras, which she did until she removed the technological version of the same practical application from the blit in the sole of her boot.. Once that was set up, she went about writing in her log, and taking in as much of Kiva’s journal as she could. It was tedious work sometimes, but if General Hammock, one of the most distinguished in the Empire, believed this was important, then it probably was. Her mission might even be important to Jim’s, whatever it was, or vice versa.
Sarah sat up on the couch in Andur’s surprisingly vivid quarters. For someone so cold-blooded, her quarters were surprisingly non-Spartan. The walls were a brown-tinged orange, not bright enough to offend the eyes; the furnishings were cushioned with various shades of warm colors, save the green sofa in one corner. Sarah actually liked it.

The door-alarm began to chime, so Sarah quickly tapped the quip containing Kiva’s outfit and discarded it before she got to the door. When it slid away, she found Ishori, in a teal leather dress that was much more elegant attire than the typical scant-but-efficient outfits that Cortez supplied for his female crewmembers. Still, it wasn’t something that Sarah would wear in public.
“Hey Kiva. Are you coming to the party in the officer’s mess? I doubt that the captain would be pleased if you didn’t show up. He’s already got it out for you as it is.”
“I think I would rather stay here. I’m… practicing,” Sarah replied, with inadvertent rudeness.
“Practicing what? Sure as daucht ain’t your social skills. You’ve been reclusing ever since you got here. Everybody messes up now and then.. If you’d stop obsessing over your mistake, it wouldn’t be so bad. Your acting just like you did after Tol’Gil’fa. I’m surprised you’re still even on the ship. It isn’t like you’re gonna get paid.”
“Fine,” Sarah relented, wanting to change the subject from the unknowns of Kiva’s past. “I’ll go to the party. But if Kelly or Cortez says a word about Texas, or Tem, there will be Slin to pay.”

As Sarah started towards the electronic wardrobe to see what “nice” outfits Kiva left on the ship, she began to wonder what she had gotten herself into for the thousandth time that evening.

Captain Cortez stood silently in the mess hall, with Kelly Hulin and his bodyguard Mishi. He took another drink of his Jomaniani ale, ironically a gift from the woman who was the topic of much negative discussion as of late. Kiva had seemed off, certainly, until he had confronted her about the death of Tem. Then she had reverted to her typical insolent self.

But his first officer Kelly Hulin didn’t seem to be convinced.
“There is something going on here,” the woman insisted. “There is no way that that was the same Kiva Andur we sent to Texas.”
Geshin Thex, the navigation officer, looked around and then addressed Hulin directly. “So what are you saying? You think that she’s some sort of android or clone come to lead the cops to us?”
“No. I think she was captured, and offered a pardon for betraying us, honestly.”
“Ridiculous,” Cortez interjected. “There are no homing emissions coming from her or any of her things, and if she tries to contact someone off ship, we’ll detect it.” Cortez leaned back in his chair and considered for a long moment. “She is just obsessing over her failure. Every time she fails a mission she gets like this.”
Hulin turned away, muttering something as she left, but Cortez was honestly too drunk by this point to care. He took another drink as Kiva and Ishori walked in.

He’d keep an eye on her, just to be safe—assuming he still remembered this conversation tomorrow.


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I will print this off and read it. Hurts my eyes reading so much white on blue/grey text.

War does not make one great.

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I could PM you a link to the story on another site with black text one white, if you want.

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This is just a story on my relation ship with hollie I don't know if I should add more.


Her name is Hollie. All that I ever wanted in a girl. All that I need in the world. My best friend ever. A short, cute, depressed 9th grader when I met her. She was just like me, we both loathed our lives and just needed someone to hold on to. She is my muse, my inspiration, my only reason for living. I always felt alone in the world before her, she is the only one who gets me the only one who ever tried.

It hurt to see her unhappy. I was always afraid that she would hurt herself. And she was in a bad mood a lot too. I didn’t want her to kill herself, I couldn’t live without her. As the clash with death a year earlier I didn’t want to expire yet, We could do much together, go far.

As the person I was at that time, I didn’t have much friends. Never trying to make many because I figured most of those people were ass holes. I had a few, namely odd people who company I enjoyed, like Cliff a Mexican rocker and Joe a nice guy is all I can say about him. They both knew of her. Though Cliff was a good friend to her (and she even confessed to liking him a few times).

I always wondered what would happen if we were together. I don’t want to have wonder on what could of been, I don’t want my life full of regrets. I just know she is the one and that were meant to be together.
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Somebody read this and tell me how this is

Well, if you told me you were drowning
I would not lend a hand
I've seen your face before my friend
But I don't know if you know who I am
Well, I was there and I saw what you did
I saw it with my own two eyes
So you can wipe off the grin, I know where you've been
It's all been a pack of lies

Her name is Hollie. All that I ever wanted in a girl. All that I need in the world. My best friend ever. A short, cute, depressed 9th grader when I met her (I was in 10th). She was just like me, we both loathed our lives and just needed someone to hold on to. She is my muse, my inspiration, my only reason for living. I always felt alone in the world before her, she is the only one who gets me the only one who ever tried.

It hurt to see her unhappy. I was always afraid that she would hurt herself. And she was in a bad mood a lot too. I didn’t want her to kill herself, I couldn’t live without her. As the clash with death a year earlier I didn’t want to expire yet, We could do much together, go far.

As the person I was at that time, I didn’t have much friends. Never trying to make many because I figured most of those people were ass holes. I had a few, namely odd people who company I enjoyed, like Cliff a Mexican rocker and Joe a nice guy is all I can say about him. They both knew of her. Though Cliff was a good friend to her (and she even confessed to liking him a few times).

I always wondered what would happen if we were together. I don’t want to have wonder on what could of been, I don’t want my life full of regrets. I just know she is the one and that we are meant to be together. Is this love?

As 11th grade came (10th grade for her) around I noticed a much different Holly, a happy one. It made me happy to see her like this. It has been a great year. I hope it stays like this. I want to always be there for her. No matter who or what is in my way, like the song says, ain’t no mountain high enough to keep me from you. She has a boy friend, Steve, he is a nice guy. Steve has a twin, I can’t really tell the two apart. He has became a good friend of mine. They have been together for 3 years they said. Since Jr. High School. I don’t know much about him, but he has became a very good friend of mine, I’m glad to have met him. I don’t what her hurt when they or if they break up.

I just can’t handle having her hurt. To have her hurt torments me. When she cries I burn inside I burn in fury. I want to drown my problems. Drown my sorrow. The hurt doesn't show; but the pain still grows. It's no stranger to you or me.
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Wow, Sean...

That is almost identical to how it was with me and Erika. 'Cept we were both freshmen. And she graduated early and went to college. Anyway... Yeah, she couldn't care less about me, but I still intend to wish her a happy birthday...

This Saturday... Curses! I am so pathetic.

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Eh, I don't want to think about it. It will either make me angry, depressed, or start me into another fit of wishing things were different.

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This is my latest

Love is but a breeze that goes away as quick as it comes. Life is but an ocean of endless possibilities. Happiness is but a bucket that is empty. The end is but an answer that is too far away. Anger is like a glass that overflows. Sadness is like you, you seem to be full of it. Suicide is like a question you just want help. Love is just like open arms they will always there for you.

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Originally posted by: sean wookie
Somebody read this and tell me how this is

Well, if you told me you were drowning
I would not lend a hand
I've seen your face before my friend
But I don't know if you know who I am
Well, I was there and I saw what you did
I saw it with my own two eyes
So you can wipe off the grin, I know where you've been
It's all been a pack of lies

Her name is Hollie. All that I ever wanted in a girl. All that I need in the world. My best friend ever. A short, cute, depressed 9th grader when I met her (I was in 10th). She was just like me, we both loathed our lives and just needed someone to hold on to. She is my muse, my inspiration, my only reason for living. I always felt alone in the world before her, she is the only one who gets me the only one who ever tried.

It hurt to see her unhappy. I was always afraid that she would hurt herself. And she was in a bad mood a lot too. I didn’t want her to kill herself, I couldn’t live without her. As the clash with death a year earlier I didn’t want to expire yet, We could do much together, go far.

As the person I was at that time, I didn’t have much friends. Never trying to make many because I figured most of those people were ass holes. I had a few, namely odd people who company I enjoyed, like Cliff a Mexican rocker and Joe a nice guy is all I can say about him. They both knew of her. Though Cliff was a good friend to her (and she even confessed to liking him a few times).

I always wondered what would happen if we were together. I don’t want to have wonder on what could of been, I don’t want my life full of regrets. I just know she is the one and that we are meant to be together. Is this love?

As 11th grade came (10th grade for her) around I noticed a much different Holly, a happy one. It made me happy to see her like this. It has been a great year. I hope it stays like this. I want to always be there for her. No matter who or what is in my way, like the song says, ain’t no mountain high enough to keep me from you. She has a boy friend, Steve, he is a nice guy. Steve has a twin, I can’t really tell the two apart. He has became a good friend of mine. They have been together for 3 years they said. Since Jr. High School. I don’t know much about him, but he has became a very good friend of mine, I’m glad to have met him. I don’t what her hurt when they or if they break up.

I just can’t handle having her hurt. To have her hurt torments me. When she cries I burn inside I burn in fury. I want to drown my problems. Drown my sorrow. The hurt doesn't show; but the pain still grows. It's no stranger to you or me.


WOW, I understand the Hollie thing so much better now! Good job on getting your feeling out!
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Well all of that is true. It is what I think mostly and what I feel.
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it is great to care for someone so much, love really does give your life meaning. I mean love in any sences of the word!

Even if that person pisses you off from time to time
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Ah! To much sappy gushy emotion! Must post some violence! (Though I also must admit that was a nice poem there, Sean Wookie)

Chapter Nine: Game of Tag

The computer buzzed a warning, ten minutes until the ship reverted into normal space. Jim glanced over at his Senarian ally. She was tall, even for her race, about 9’5”, and her massive proportions took-up most of the cockpit of the spaceboat that had been their home for almost a week. She was very beautiful, Jim thought. Still, she wasn’t attractive to him in the sense of an actual relationship. Jim preferred humans.
But she made for a good conversation, anyway.
“Well. We’re almost there.” Najenkur said. “I have never been to Haven. What should I know beforehand.”
Jim thought for a moment and said, “If all goes well, then we shouldn’t even need to land. And that is a good thing. Haven is the last planet in the galaxy any law enforcer wants to be. All we need to worry about is finding Tulva and sending his cult into the black hole which they belong.” Jim saw the Senarian’s face contort into disgust and then she looked at him sympathetically, worried, it seemed.
The five-minute warning buzzed.
“Why do you hate Tulva so much, Lt. Raynor?” She asked with obvious concern, as if she didn’t even realize she was being intrusive.
“I hate all cults.” Jim snapped at her.
“It is something more than that,” she responded. “You hate cults for a reason. I feel your hate. It is personal.”
Jim sighed. He couldn’t hide anything from her. At length, he said, “My brother, Trav. He… was in the Imperial Guard. About twelve years ago, there was an uprising of Vorth Monks. They had some new leader or something supposedly chosen by the grass spirits to lead the Vorth on galactic conquest. Somehow, they got their hands on a prototype nanobot machine that used neural-interfacing microids to control peoples’ minds. The leader—I think they called him Vox-Tue—could control remotely anyone who he infected with the nanobots..
“He started sending out his followers, and infected a huge portion of Kantapolis from Knox to Dandridge. My brother was saving lives, I know. His body was found next to the machine that built the nanobots, and Vox-Tue was dead as well, lying on top of my brother’s body. I don’ know what happened, but I know my brother saved the city. But he didn’t have to die! It wasn’t right! No one should ever be murdered in the name of God—let alone a false one…”

Jim’s normally unshakable voice and demeanor now began to break.
“Jim…” was all that Naj could say before the proximity alarm blared one last time.
They had arrived at Haven.

The red sky of subspace pealed away and revealed the largest planet that Najenkur had ever scene. It was twice the size of the Terran ancestral homeworld of Earth, but much less dense, meaning essentially the same gravity. Most of the planet was covered in the crime-infested metropolis called Apex city, and Haven was largely synonymous with the galaxy’s chief criminal element, the Yee family.
So, in a way, it was fitting that Tulva had finally been tracked to this abominable world. The space around the planet was filled with traffic, going and coming, legitimate and illicit. The homing signal was coming from the far side of the planet, so Naj engaged the deflector shields and set a course for a distant orbit around the planet, where space-traffic controllers would largely ignore her. It was nearly an hour before Tulva’s ship was spotted. Or more accurately, Tulva’s ships.
The instruments indicated at least thirty different vessels, all in a teardrop formation with the ship tagged as Tulva’s in the center. Naj adjusted their course to prevent them from flying into the middle of the flotilla.
“Whoa. Didn’t see that one coming,” said Jim, Appearantly dumbfounded.
“If there are so many ships with him,” Naj thought out loud, “then why have they not detected the homing signal yet? Unless they plan to trap us.”
“No!” Jim quickly asserted. “The signal is encrypted and piggy-backed onto their long-range transponder. Even if the signal is detected, it is only perceived as transponder static unless you have the decryption installed in your scanner.”
“Which,” Najenkur realized out loud, “is why we’ve had to rely on your little handheld device—that I could crush between two fingers, I might add—to get us this far.” Naj inhaled slowly, belying the fact she was at a loss for what to do. “Well. What now? This old boat certainly can’t fight thirty to one.”
Jim was silent for a long moment, and then said, “I think I know what to do.” He reached for his handheld tracking device, and began pushing in a complex sequence of buttons. “I can activate the failsafe. If I do this right, I can make the tracking signal a priority one “ARREST ME” signal.”
Jim’s adjustments seemed to be working, too, because just as he finished, the ships began to scatter. “That got their attention,” intoned Najenkur. A ship, the size of Tulva’s but emitting no tracking signal, detached from a much larger ship, perhaps a command ship, headed for the planet. It hadn’t made 10 kilozivits when the nearest Haven defense vessels unceremoniously fired upon it, blasting it into scrap metal, but she could clearly feel that Tulva wasn’t on it
In all the confusion, telling one ship from another would be difficult. Frantic energy patterns made tracking drive-emissions impossible, so visual scanning was the only option. Najenkur steadied her boat.
“There!” Jim shouted, pointing his finger at a smaller gunship, quickly darting in a direction that none of the other ships were. “My instincts tell me that is him. Just bringing it about to get a clear view of the dispersing fleet. Naj saw the ship with Tulva’s tracking beacon on it disappear into hyperspace call it an educated guess, Naj, but I suggest you start moving.”
Najenkur reached out with her psionic sense, probing the minds. And sure enough, Tulva was on the darting ship, plain as the stars. “Good call,” she said. Naj brought the sublight drives to full, squeezing every last kir of power from the aging engines. Only one larger ship had had joined Tulva’s, and they were almost clear of the mass of the planet, and ready to jump out of the system.
Naj brought her ship in directly behind Tulva’s, trying not to draw attention. “Get his vector as soon as he jumps,” she ordered Jim. And just as she said it, the warp drives flared up on Tulva’s frigate and he was gone.
“He is heading towards Lota.” Jim said incredulously.
“Lota?” Najenkur echoed? “What is Lota?”
Jim read-off the readouts, though Naj could tell he had prior knowledge of the world, “Lota is a Nodian border world. I hear the Dominion uses it for testing their top-secret technology. There have been some crazy stories about ships that can jump across the galaxy in ten minutes, giant tanks that can single-handedly level cities. It’s crazy stuff, but it has never been disproved.”
“So why would Tulva be jumping into Dominion space, unless that is where this weapon of his is?”
“We will just have to find out,” responded a baffled Lt. Raynor, as the starfield fell away into a blinding blue storm.

On the bridge of Tulva’s flagship Sullen Retribution, confusion reigned. The shouting continued to increase until Tulva raised his hand and issued some psionic serenity to his distraught disciples. “Will someone calmly explain to me what has gone wrong? Anyone?”
A young Smuell bridge-officer stood up and addressed Jirinau directly. “Sir, I’m not certain why, but before we jumped, the ship started emitting Ythan-beta-97, a signal designed to alert authorities to the presence of cornered pirates or other criminals. In the Empire only, of course.”
“Which would imply what?” inquired Tulva.
“It would imply, sir, that the Imperial officer who was assigned to investigate this case, the man who infiltrated your compound on Somu’e, tracked you to Haven and then tried to improvise when he realized you have an entire flotilla.”
“Wonderful.” Remarked a nearby bridge officer dryly.
Tulva exploded with rage, and without saying a word, caused the purple man’s peanut shaped-head to implode. The bridge grew eerily silent until Tulva spoke, again calm. “I want you to bring us out of subspace, and set a direct hyperspace jump to Ten’reil to rally with the rest of the fleet. I think it is time for a little bait and switch.”
But as the two ships owned by the cult climbed out of subspace, they came face to face with the largest cruiser Tulva had ever seen bearing the emblem of the New Order of Dominion.

The October Sky.

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