Ep.#5 - "Rise of the Corinari" (31 page)

“Yes, sir.”

Jalea came strolling over from the second shuttle. She was beautifully attired in her tight-fitting business suit, and her feminine charms did not go unnoticed by the sergeant major, nor by his men.

“Lieutenant,” Jalea said as she approached, “did you forget about me?”

“No, of course not, Miss Devonshire. I was just about to arrange for your transportation into town, as a matter of fact.” Willard turned back to the sergeant major. “Sergeant Major, allow me to introduce Miss Analise Devonshire of the Royal Bank of Takara.”

“A pleasure, miss,” the sergeant major stated, bowing his head respectfully. “To what do we owe the honor of your visit?”

“I am here on business,” Jalea stated, “official business,” she added, handing her documents and ident chip over to the sergeant major for inspection. “I am not at liberty to discuss it further.”

The sergeant major understood her meaning. The Takaran banks loved to perform surprise audits of their business partners in other star systems. Something about being light years away seemed to make people think their inappropriate financial dealings would go unnoticed. Although it was not as heavily populated or industrialized as most worlds within the empire, the sheer volume of food shipped from Ancot made it a breeding ground for financial trickery.

“I assume you can provide transportation into the city for Miss Devonshire,” Willard insisted.

“Yes, of course,” the sergeant major promised. “Corporal!” he bellowed. A young corporal stepped forward in response to the sergeant major’s call.

“Yes, sir, Sergeant Major.”

“Transport Miss Devonshire into town and then meet us back at the garrison,” the sergeant major instructed.

“Yes, sir,” the corporal acknowledged. “Ma’am,” he said to Jalea, offering to take her bag, “if you’ll follow me.”

“Thank you, Sergeant Major,” Jalea said. “Pleasant journey, Lieutenant.”

“To you as well, Miss Devonshire,” Willard replied.

“Very well,” Willard stated, “let’s get on with it, then.”

“Excuse me, Lieutenant,” the sergeant major said, “but I will need your orders, sir.”

“My orders?”

“The ones authorizing me to turn over two hundred inductees to your charge, sir.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Willard said, reaching into the pouch on his belt. He pulled out a data chip and handed it to the sergeant major. “Here you are.”

“Thank you, sir.” The sergeant major inserted the data chip into his reader and looked over the electronic documents. He examined Willard, then returned his gaze to the reader, continuing to check that everything was in order. Willard waited, feigning impatience to cover his own nervousness. The orders he had given the sergeant major were indeed genuine. However, they had been tampered with by Mister Dumar in order to put Lieutenant Willard’s image, credentials, and bio-scan data into the orders in place of the officer that should have been picking up the inductees. Such forgery was not an easy task, and the readers used by security personnel were quite good at picking up the slightest discrepancy.

As the seconds ticked away, Willard cursed himself for not reviewing Mister Dumar’s methodology more carefully. How did an old man, a commodities consultant at that, know anything about forging Ta’Akar orders and digital security stamps? So he had once served the Ta’Akar in his youth, just as Ensign Willard, but that was decades ago, and the technology had surely changed since then.

Just as Willard was sure he was going to have to try and shoot his way out, the sergeant major’s reader beeped, startling him.

“Are you all right, sir?” the sergeant major asked, noticing Willard’s start.

“Yes, of course,” Willard insisted. “It is this foul air,” he lied. “Most unpleasant.”

“Yes, it does take some getting used to,” the sergeant major agreed as he pulled the data chip from his reader and handed it back to the Lieutenant. “Everything appears to be in order, sir,” the sergeant major stated respectfully. “You may proceed, sir.”

“Thank you, Sergeant Major.” Willard struggled to maintain control, feeling he would surely fall to his knees with relief at any moment. He just had to continue the charade for a few more minutes. “Sergeant of the guard!”

“Yes, Lieutenant,” the volunteer dressed as a Takaran sergeant responded.

“You may load the inductees.”

“Yes, sir!” the sergeant answered. “Attention on the line!” he bellowed at the group of inductees, causing the group to immediately come to attention. “You are about to board the shuttles. When you do so you will move to the back and be seated in an orderly fashion. The first group will board the shuttle on the left. The second group will board the shuttle on the right. If you are too stupid to know your right from your left, just follow the man in front of you. If you are too stupid to do that, then just drop dead right where you are, because you are a waste of air and will not be allowed aboard my shuttles. Now, single file, move out!”

The inductees began boarding as per the sergeant’s orders. Within a few minutes, all two hundred of them were aboard and the guards divided into two groups, four to a shuttle, following the inductees on board.

“Sergeant Major,” Willard began, “it has been a pleasure.”

“Excuse me, Lieutenant, but will your captain be coming down? Our commanding officer claims to be an old friend and was hoping to visit with him.”

“I am afraid not,” Willard explained. “We are on the last leg of a three-year patrol, and Captain de Winter in quite a hurry to get home… as are we all, for that matter.”

“I understand,” the sergeant major said. “I am sure you are anxious to get the refit started.”

“Yes, the refit, indeed,” Willard responded, even though he had no idea what the sergeant major was speaking of.

“Please convey my commanding officer’s greeting to your captain, and his regrets that duty prevented them from enjoying one another’s company.”

“I shall do so, Sergeant Major.”

The sergeant major snapped a salute, which Willard quickly returned before spinning around in the same pompous manner as most noblemen.

The sergeant major watched as Willard marched away. “Arrogant nobles,” he muttered to himself.

* * *

Though not as organized and efficient as the cities on Corinair, Ancot city, the planet’s only major metropolis, had a character all its own. The city was situated along a large, nearly enclosed bay, and was built up along all its shores. Two-thirds of the planet’s surface was covered with water, and most of the land was relatively flat with only a few mountainous areas in the upper latitudes.

On Ancot, the weather was almost always the same: morning showers, sunny afternoons, and partly cloudy evenings. It rained daily at least half the year, and weekly the other half. While a nuisance for planning outdoor events, it was perfect for agriculture. Nearly every stitch of arable land was used for growing crops, and any land that had not been cultivated was used to support the planets massive agricultural industry. Nearly ninety percent of the food grown on Ancot was eaten by people living elsewhere, and most of those lived in the Takaran system.

Ask any Ancotan and they’d tell you that the Ta’Akar didn’t conquer their planet, they invested in it. The people of Ancot lived good, healthy lives because they produced what the Takarans needed most, food. For this reason, being a Karuzari on Ancot was not an easy task.

The military staff vehicle pulled up in front of one of the best hotels in the downtown area of Ancot city. An attendant immediately opened the passenger door to the vehicle and helped the lady out. Jalea stood and looked about.

“May I get your bag, miss?” the attendant asked politely.

“Yes, please,” she answered, pointing to the back seat. She leaned into the front door of the vehicle. “Thank you, Corporal. I will be fine from here.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the corporal answered as she closed the door.

“Checking in, miss?” the attendant answered as the vehicle pulled away. It was a logical assumption on the attendant’s part, considering Jalea’s attire.

“Yes, but I would like to use the restroom first,” Jalea told him.

“Of course, miss. Across the lobby and to the right, near the side entrance,” he directed.

“Thank you,” Jalea answered, taking her bag from him and draping it over her shoulder. The attendant opened the door for her and she entered the lobby. Strolling across the open floor, she looked every bit the royal auditor her credentials claimed.

Jalea found the restrooms exactly where the attendant had indicated. After pausing for a moment to make sure no one was paying her undue attention, she entered the restroom.

The inside of the restroom was quite large, with rows of doors down each side. She continued down the length of the room until she found a door that showed ‘available’ and stepped inside. As the door clicked shut, the light in the little room came on. There was a sink, a toilet, a mirror, and several hooks on the wall. All the nicer hotels were equipped in this manner, with individual private rooms instead of rows of semi-private stalls. It was for this reason she had asked the corporal to take her to one of the nicer hotels. Besides maintaining her cover, she needed privacy for the next step of her mission.

Twenty minutes later, the door to her room opened and Jalea stepped out into the main foyer of the restroom again. This time, her brown hair and green eyes were gone, replaced with blonde hair and blue eyes, like so many of the Ancotans. Gone, also, was her fashionable business suit, replaced by attire more fitting a young Ancotan woman. She slung her bag—which had changed from black like her business suit to pale blue to match her dress—back over her shoulder as she headed across the foyer. Her walk had changed as well. Instead of her previous business-like stride, she now swung her hips more subtly from side to side in the same manner as most young women about the town in Ancot city.

She exited the restroom foyer back into the lobby and headed out the side entrance. The afternoon sun was warm and bright. She donned her sunglasses and continued down the street, blending into the crowd. Jalea Torren was now undercover on Ancot.

* * *

The inductees stared out the windows of the shuttle as it approached what they thought was the Ta’Akar warship, Yamaro. None of them had ever seen a warship. Most of them had never left their home planet for that matter. However, more than a few of them had seen images of many of the empire’s ships, and those that had seen such images were quite sure that the ship they were about to land on did not belong to the Ta’Akar.

The men began talking among themselves, first in whispers. Soon, the whispers became louder. Then, they began to escalate into shouts as they demanded to know what was happening. Within minutes of the first sighting of the Aurora, Ensign Willard had to order his guards to shoot anyone who got out of their seat. There were one hundred agitated young men on board the shuttle, and there were only five armed guards including Ensign Willard. In retrospect, it might have been better to seal the windows shut.

Luckily, none of the young men wished to be the first to die at the barrel of a Takaran energy weapon, and they chose to remain in their seats. Ensign Willard promised them that they would not be harmed, that everything would be explained once they landed, and that they would all be kept safe until they could be returned to their homes. He could see in the eyes of most of the inductees that the thought of returning home without having to spend years in service of the empire was enough reason for them to be patient.

* * *

“Captain, the hangar deck reports the shuttles are in the transfer airlocks,” Naralena reported.

“Very well,” Nathan answered, relief washing over him. It had been a tense few hours as they waited in stellar orbit just beyond Savoy’s fifth planet, Deikon. Finally it was over and they could return to Darvano. “Helm, set course for Takara and accelerate smartly to half-light.”

“Aye, Captain,” Josh answered. “Changing course for Takara. Accelerating smartly to half-light."

“Doctor,” Nathan said, turning toward Abby, “as soon as we exit the system, jump us to a few light months along our course to Takara. Then we’ll decelerate, change course for Darvano, and jump home.”

“Yes, Captain,” Abby answered.

Nathan rose from his seat and headed for the exit.

“Where are you going?” Jessica asked.

“To meet Tug in the hangar deck,” Nathan told her. “There are a couple hundred farm boys from Ancot who need some answers.”

“What are you going to tell them?” Jessica asked.

“Only what I have to, Jess. You have the bridge.”

Chapter Eight

“Tug, Aurora. You are clear to launch,” Naralena’s voice came over the comms.

“Aurora, Tug. Launching.” Tug fired a blast of his ascent thrusters, pushing his interceptor up and away from the flight apron of the Aurora. The jolt pressed him down in his seat for a moment as his ship leapt upward, quickly climbing above the Aurora’s massive drive section. “Aurora, Tug. I’m clear.”

“Copy, Tug. See you on the other side,” Naralena answered.

Tug looked out his canopy as the Aurora fired her main engines and began to pull away from him. By the time her engine ports passed under him, she had already shut down her drive, having gained enough additional speed to pull away from them at an acceptable rate. Within a minute, the massive ship was no more than an abnormally large, irregularly shaped gray dot against the background of stars. There was a flash of blue-white light, and she was gone.

“That’s what it looks like when you jump?” the man’s voice asked.

“Yes, that’s what it looks like, Mister Cauley,” Tug responded.

“A little frightening, is it not?” Mister Cauley commented.

Tug could hear the nervousness in the scientist’s voice. As much as Tug had urged for this to be a solo test flight of the new, miniature jump drive installed in his interceptor, the Corinairans had insisted that one of their team needed to be present to monitor the performance of the system during the tests. Unfortunately for Mister Cauley, he had been considered the most qualified for the ride.