Steffon of Starbonn
a Sci-Fi/Fantasy Novel
written by
Danny Clay Lee
Copyrighted 1992, 1997 by Danny Clay Lee
All Rights Reserved
EPISODE THREE
Chapter Fourteen
The Commander rolled over in his bunk, the
intercom from the bridge was ringing. He cleared his
mind of sleep and picked up the handset. "Yes?"
"Commander Hoak, this is Degdner. We have an
unauthorized flight coming up from Topside. It will
intersect us quite close."
"Any ID?"
"Yes, sir. It is the Colossus, Vadourean
registry, posted for Eutha V. She was not programmed
for liftoff until 0630 tomorrow.
"Have you contacted her?"
"I have tried, but I cannot raise her, sir."
"Any reason she would be launching early?" Hoak
asked.
"No, sir. Everything appears normal at Topside."
An alarm chimed on Degdner's board. "One moment,
Commander. I have a Priority One from Topside."
"Very well, ring me when you finish. Hoak out."
The Commander replaced his handset and sat up on his
bunk. He could just imagine what the Priority One was
from Topside: Look out, we screwed up on a launch
time. Please duck!
Commander Hoak had been in space all his life and
he had seen it all, but it never ceased to amazed him
how often the humanoid element always managed to mess
things up. He punched in an order for breakfast on his
food console and headed for his fresher. He had just
set the water temperature when the intercom rang again.
"Hoak here," he answered.
"Degdner again, sir. There has been a serious
accident at Topside. Their fusion generator has
malfunctioned and exploded. There was a total power
loss on all loading cradles, sir."
"Total power loss?"
"Affirmative, sir."
"How many ships were berthed?"
"I show twenty-six freighters, six miscellaneous
vessels and three naval patrol ships are on their logs,
Commander. That is not counting the Colossus."
"That's a lot of tonnage that's nothing but scrap
now. Does Topside Control have any information on the
Colossus?"
"No, sir. They had assumed she was wrecked with
the others until I queried them about her early
launch."
"What's her current position?"
"She will be clearing the atmosphere momentarily,
sir. She is still on a near collision course with us."
"How near?"
"At present course and speed, fifty kilcs, sir."
"ETA?"
"1631.34, Commander."
The Commander was looking at a timepiece set into
the bulkhead by his bunk. It read 1627.46. "I will be
right up to the bridge. Power up the shields. Have
Maneuvering go to Alert Three. Sound Collision
Stations and notify LOP Control to dispatch a patrol
ship over to assist if we need them. Hoak out."
Yes, sir."
"Is that Traffic Station still hailing us?" asked
Lincoln.
"Yes, on all traffic channels," answered Oki. "I
apologize, Lincoln. I should have noticed the time
differential on the launch tapes and plotted us away
from them."
"There was not any time for that. Beside, it may
be for the best, Oki. They do not know who we are,
what or why? Keeping out of our way will keep them
occupied. How close will we intersect?"
"About fifty kilcs, Captain," she answered.
Lincoln smiled at being called 'Captain.' Perhaps
he was one once, he mused. I do not know how, but I
seem to know what I am doing. Lincoln swiveled his
seat to face Vark. "Any indications of targeting
sensors on that Traffic Station?"
Vark was scanning several monitors at the weapons
console. It was intended for a crew of three, but Vark
was bouncing from position to position. "Negative,
Lincoln. I would not think they would need anything
larger than a few pulsar beams for intercepting
meteors. They are not a naval unit."
Lincoln looked at the time. 1630.15. "Well, we
shall know shortly."
Colossus cleared Rovin's atmosphere and broke free
from the planet's gravity. The ship continued to
accelerate as it zipped by Rovin's Central Traffic
Control Station, missing the orbiting structure by less
than fifty kilcs.
"Lincoln, I have a ship bearing in on us, port
side," announced Oki.
"Vark, check him for weaponry," ordered Lincoln.
"Affirmative." The big Cassian began to key in
commands to his console.
"He is hailing us," said Oki. "It is a naval
vessel, an Aleyskite patrol ship."
"He ranging for us with his sensors," Vark added.
"Head us down in toward the star, Oki. I doubt
this freighter has any speed advantage over that patrol
ship. Perhaps the star's heat can give us a hand."
"It is called Dashtkahi, if anybody cares," said
Oki.
Lincoln keyed the intercom to Engineering.
"J'Tafil?"
"This is Darc, Lincoln. I will get J'Tafil."
After a moment, the intercom keyed up, "This is
J'Tafil."
"What shape are the thrusters in?"
"Excellent. They must have just had a complete
refit. One could eat off the stress plates."
"We have a naval visitor, J'Tafil. I am going to
try and keep our distance from him. Oki is plotting us
down toward the star. Is there anything you can do
down there to increase our boost?"
"I might have a trick or two, Lincoln. I will
buzz you back after I have a look at the fusion
converters," the Hixxiznian said as he keyed off.
"Speaking of eating," Lincoln said, turning to
O'Rion and the others, "is anybody hungry?"
"I've been too afraid to even think of food,"
answered Ginia.
"May we unbuckle?" asked O'Rion.
"Yes. Ginia, you take Mallie and Sart-Ti, find
the ships' mess and fix us something to eat."
Ginia walked over to Lincoln. She bent down and
kissed his brow. "Where is it?"
Lincoln leaned back to his console, studied it for
a moment, then keyed up a outline of the ship. "There
it is," he said, pointing at the monitor, "just go aft,
compartment six. It is on the starboard side. That is
the right side, Ginia."
She laughed. "Captain Lincoln," she offered with
a bow, "I may not know how to run this ship as you do,
but I have been on ships before. I know port from
starboard." She gave him another peck on his brow and
left the bridge followed by Mallie and Sart-Ti.
"It is good to see her so happy, lad," said
O'Rion.
"I hope it lasts, O'Rion."
"Are you concerned with the patrol ship?"
"He could give us problems. Oki, can you plot us
a hyperjump?"
"Yes, I have enough data, but to where?"
"What is the nearest system?"
The Lagellian glanced at her console. "The H'Warz
Cluster."
"That's a slave system," said Vark. "If we are on
the rim near H'Warz, every system in that direction has
slaves. If we are caught, they will turn us back to
the Aleyskites."
The intercom keyed up from Engineering. "Bridge,"
answered Lincoln.
"I can get four extra points from the converters,"
said J'Tafil. "Nine if we cut the artgrav."
"We will need the artgrav if we have to take
evasive maneuvers. Give us the four for now, J'Tafil."
"Four it is. Engineering out."
"Oki, what systems are in the opposite direction
from H'Warz?"
Oki studied her console. "Captain, there is
Berli, Pytho and Lovoii."
"Berli is free," offered Vark. "I have been to
Berli III."
"Berli it is," ordered Lincoln.
"The angle is critical in our present position,"
Oki interjected. "We would have to intraphase on a
close tangent with Dashtkahi."
"The Aleyskite is closing," interrupted Vark. "He
has activated his targeting sensors."
"Can you plot the jump, Oki?"
"I have not done one in a long time, but I will
try."
"Do it."
"Lincoln, if I am off less than a milisec, we will
all burn up inside Dashtkahi."
"They are trying a ranging shot, Lincoln," offered
Vark.
"Plot the jump, Oki."
"Yes, Captain." She began to key instructions
into the navigational terminal.
"Well, O'Rion, you have been very quiet since this
began," Lincoln said to the old man.
"It still seems like a dream to me, lad."
"It is a dream, O'Rion. The dream you have wanted
far too long. We are going to Terra!"
O'Rion suddenly seemed unsteady. Lincoln jumped
up from his seat and helped the Negroid sit down in the
co-pilot's position. "What is wrong?"
O'Rion turned watery eyes to Lincoln. "Lad, I am
just overcome with the realization I may be finally
going home."
"We have come this far, O'Rion, and nothing will
keep you from going home."
"Aye, it is like you promised me, but I did not
believe. I did not believe, but I do now, lad."
"Believe it." Lincoln patted the old man on the
shoulder and walked over to Vark's console.
"Their shooting is sloppy, Lincoln." Vark was
hopping from seat to seat at the weapons console.
"Not like the Cassian Navy, eh, Vark?"
Vark looked up and grinned. "No, not at all,
thank the Gods!"
The Aleyskite Local Orbit Patrol vessel Runnion
appeared a taunt ship by Aleyskite standards, even
though she had never fired a weapon in anger during her
short commissioned life. Her commander, Line Officer,
Junior Grade, Helnig was only four solars out of the
Aleyskite Naval College. He had graduated in the lower
half of his class, but being the oldest son of a
influential Patroon, his quick rise through the ranks
was not completely based on his military know how.
At the Naval College, Helnig had been drilled that
the essentials to ship command were "Polish & Drill,
Polish & Drill!" He had, through recent experience,
discovered that the inspecting brass preferred polish,
so he had run his vessel accordingly. Now, he was
discovering the folly of his ways.
"Another miss, sir," piped the Second Officer.
Helnig slapped the armrests of his command seat
with both palms. "Are our Targeteers blind! That's
six misses in a row!" he roared.
"We are still at maximum range, sir," the Second
Officer replied. "When we close in, it will be a
different story, I assure you."
"Why aren't we closing, Number Two? That ore
bucket shouldn't be able to out distance us?"
"Evidently, sir, they are using every possible erg
of power for their thrusters. When we close in, they
will have to cut their artgrav to gain more power.
Then, they will not be able to evade our firepower,"
answered the Second Officer.
"From their track toward Dashtkahi, it had better
be soon, Number Two. That ore bucket does have more
shielding than us. We all may get rather warm,"
replied Helnig.
"Sir?" called the Communications Mate.
"Yes?" Helnig swiveled to the mate.
"Commander Hoak of Traffic Central is hailing us."
"Put him through," ordered Helnig. It was bad
enough that his ship was performing poorly, but now, he
fumed, that old Merchant Fleet traffic commander was
going to tell him how to run his command.
Helnig's communications monitor came to life.
"Line Officer Helnig, this is Commander Hoak."
"Yes, Commander, what may I do for you?"
"I have some information for you on the Colossus."
Helnig waited for a moment, then tartly said,
"Very well, what is it, Commander? Be quick and brief
about it! I am in the middle of a combat pursuit, you
realize."
"Topside reports the Colossus was abducted by ten
to fifteen slaves. They launched the vessel after
crippling Topside's fusion generator."
"What? That's impossible! Slaves can't pilot a
space ship! They must be forcing the Colossus'
officers to pilot it for them."
"Think what you wish, Line Officer, but that
vessel you keep missing is being piloted by slaves.
Hoak out."
Helnig was enraged at Hoak's comment. "Number
Two, have everyone strap in. Cut the artgrav and put
all power to the thrusters."
"Aye aye, sir."
The Second Officer keyed his intercom. "Now here
this, now here this! All hands prepare for artgrav
deactivation. We will go local at 17.14. I repeat,
17.14. That is all."
"How is your plotting coming, Oki?"
"I almost have it, Captain," she answered without
looking up from her console.
Lincoln crossed his legs and began to munch on
some cold meats Ginia and Mallie had brought up from
the mess. He reached for a drink of water as Ginia put
a hand on his shoulder. He looked up at her, but her
attention was split between pensive looks at Oki's
intense concentration and Vark's frantic activities at
the weapons console. He could tell she was becoming
unnerved as the Aleyskite patrol ship continued to
close and fire its weapons at them.
He reached up and patted her hand on his shoulder.
"We will be all right, Ginia."
She looked down at him, offering a nervous smile.
"How can you be so calm?"
He felt at peace with the universe while he knew
they could all die from one precise hit from that
patrol ship. Why he was so calm, he did not know. And
he did not know how to answer Ginia, but he was saved
from it by Oki.
"I have the hyperjump plotted," announced the
navigator.
"They missed us again," Vark chimed.
Lincoln turned toward Oki. "Set up the navi-
computers," he ordered while picking up another piece
of meat. He began to eat it casually.
Oki began keying in her data, but the computer
bleeped, refusing her data. She began again, but the
computer repeated its bleeping. "I must have an error,
Lincoln."
Lincoln washed down the piece of meat with some
water. "Recheck your data, Oki."
"I am," she replied testily, then turned to him.
"I am sorry, Captain, but my nerves are a little jagged
just now."
"That is understandable. Relax, and recheck your
data. Vark will handle the patrol ship." He looked to
the big slave. "Right?"
"I plan on it." Vark noticed a fresh reading on
his console. He smiled. "Lincoln! The patrol ship is
accelerating. They have cut their artgrav!" He looked
to Lincoln. "We have them."
The Runnion was quickly closing the distance to
the freighter. Her Targeteers were uncomfortable,
hampered by the confines of their acceleration couches.
They strained to keep up their barrage, being careful
not to move any portion of their bodies outside the
local artificial gravity bubble surrounding their
seats. Anything outside its protection would be
smashed to pulp by the tremendous gee-force from
boosting without ship-wide, global artificial gravity.
Aided by the shorter range, their ion beams began
to inch closer and closer to their target. The
Colossus had not fired back. It had not spent an erg
on firing its weapons since the chase began.
This had first puzzled Line Officer Helnig, yet
since finding out slaves had stolen the freighter, he
had not given it a second thought. He assumed the
slaves were forcing some poor hostage to pilot the
craft.
Slaves did not have the brains to use the
complicated weapons consoles, he thought. Everyone
knew that!
Even when six precisely aimed ion beams unex-
pectedly erupted from the Colossus, Helnig's mind would
not accept that slaves were firing sophisticated
armaments at him. Even when his eyes saw his ship
bracketed by the ion beams and could not evade them
because their artgrav was deactivated, did he believe
slaves were firing at him.
Even when his mind and vessel became a trail of
charred debris, he did not believe it.
Perhaps in his next life, he would.
"The patrol ship is destroyed," said Vark.
"I have the navigational computer loaded and
locked in to the hyperdrive autopilot," said Oki.
"Good, it is time we took leave of this system."
"Captain?" added Oki.
"Yes?"
"I must warn you, this close to a star and being
below light speed, the jump is quite dangerous even if
my calculations are perfect," Oki said quietly.
"I realize that, but we would have little chance
to boost out of the system without being detected,"
Lincoln replied.
"True enough," added Vark. "After what we have
done, every naval vessel in the system will be gunning
for us."
Lincoln turned to O'Rion and Ginia. "There is
danger in the hyperjump, but I believe the danger is
greater if we do not escape now."
"You are our Captain, Lincoln," replied O'Rion.
"Your decisions have freed us from Rovin. Our lives
are in your hands. You decide what is best."
"Call the others, Oki. See what they want."
Lincoln looked about. Ginia walked over to him and put
her arm about his shoulders.
Sart-Ti put his arm about Mallie. Both nodded
their approval.
Vark gave a thumb up for the jump.
Lincoln turned back to Oki's console.
"They are with you, Captain," she answered.
"And you?"
"You are in command, Captain."
"Good, let us go to Berli," ordered Lincoln. He
leaned forward and engaged the hyperdrive autopilot.
He sat back and reached for another piece of meat. He
was still hungry.
The Colossus blinked out of normal space near
Dashtkahi, leaving only the pieces of the Runnion as
proof it had ever been near the giant red star.
"Good evening, Garth." Shera greeted Mon Terric's
nephew at the door to her suite.
"Good evening to you, Princess," replied Garth,
trying to keep his composure. He was taken breathless
by Shera's appearance. She was dressed in a swirl of
creamy, almost transparent, white. The clinging gown
accented her tanned body and her female charms were
cleverly emphasized in a revealing, non-revealing way.
Her long, shapely legs where visible through thigh
length slits in her gown as she escorted him to a
dining table set up in the middle of the parlor. Her
hair was styled up on her head, revealing a regal,
sensuous neck. Her eyes seemed to sparkle.
Shera guided him to a huge, L-shaped divan beside
the supper ensemble.
"My Lady, I must confess I was most surprised when
you asked for this audience with me. Surprised, but I
assure you, most charmed that you should wish me to be
the Baron's representative." He halted to pull a
portfolio from under his arm. "Here is a complete--"
Shera took the portfolio from him and put it on an
end table, saying, "We will discuss matters of state
after supper, Garth. Shall we just relax and get to
know one another?"
"Of course, my Lady."
She picked up a decanter full of dark red spirits.
"Would you care for some wine before supper?"
"I would be pleased, my Lady," answered Garth. He
took two wine glasses from the table and held them out
to the Princess. "Garth, in public," she said while
filling the glasses, "custom calls for you to be
formal, but here, while we sup, you may call me Shera."
She placed the decanter on a low table and took a seat
on the couch.
"As you wish, my La-- Shera." He handed her one
of the glasses.
She took it from him and pulled her legs up under
her. "To your health," she toasted.
"And to yours, Shera," he added. They both took a
sip.
"Sit." She indicated the space near her on the
divan.
"Of course," Garth answered, sitting down beside
the Princess. He took another drink, emptying his
glass.
"More wine?" Shera reached out for the decanter.
Garth noticed how her dress revealed her bosom
when she leaned over to get the wine. His heartbeat
quickened. "Please. This is an excellent vintage."
Shera leaned forward to refill his glass, again
the gown revealing her golden tanned skin. Garth could
feel passion flowing through his body as his eyes
looked past his glass at her loveliness. It was the
last sight his eyes ever held. He suddenly sucked in a
quick breath and pitched headfirst into Shera's lap.
Garth's fall knocked their glasses and the wine
decanter askew, splattering himself, the couch and
Shera with the red liquid.
"Gods!" exclaimed Shera, stunned and taken back at
Garth's lunge. She leaped to her feet, causing Garth's
body to roll off the divan, landing with a thump on his
back between the couch and table.
Shera looked down and saw his eyes were wide open
with a sightless stare. She quickly kneeled and put
her ear to his chest. There was not the hint of a
heartbeat. She sat back on her hips and put a hand to
her cheek. There was wine on her face. She looked at
Garth, the couch and her dress. All were splattered
with the dark red wine.
It looked as if a bloody massacre had taken place.
Later in the evening, Vidor knocked gently at her
bedchamber door. "My Lady?"
Shera opened the door dressed in a long robe, just
out of the fresher. She had showered off the wine and
hopefully, the shock of Garth's sudden death. "Yes?"
She looked past the Prime Minister and could see
Garth's body and the dining ensemble had all been
removed.
"It appears Garth Terric died from a heart
seizure," Vidor offered.
"He had just drank some wine. It occurred to me
it may have been poisoned, but," she looked at Vidor,
"I am alive."
"I did have the wine analyzed, my Lady, just to be
on the safe side. There were no toxins in the
spirits."
"He just keeled over, Vidor," she said. "He was
dead before he hit the floor." She looked out at the
couch. "Have you notified Mon Terric?"
"Yes," answered Vidor. "His men just picked up
the remains. The Baron sent word there would be a
memorial and cremation at dawn. He has invited you to
attend. I took the liberty of declining."
"Why such a quick cremation? Could he be hiding
something? Would he poison his own nephew?"
"With the Baron, anything is possible, my Lady."
"Vidor, is there any way we could claim the body
for an examination before the cremation?"
"For once, fortune has been with us. The Royal
Physician has a house guest, a pathologist. They
examined the body and took certain undetectable
samples." Vidor gave the Princess a brief smile.
"They are doing the testing this moment."
"Wonderful! Vidor, send a message to Mon Terric.
Tell him I will come to the memorial. It is time I
faced our protagonist."
"Very well, but may I suggest you wear a body
monitor. The Baron may reveal something we could use."
"Yes, I will wear one," answered Shera. "Now, go
see if the healers have any results."
"I shall, Princess." Vidor left Shera's suite.
She walked out onto her terrace, again looking out
at the distant peaks. In the night, their presence was
only visible as the distant darkness that blocked the
vast star field. A strong nocturnal breeze blew across
the terrace. It whipped back the Princess' hair and
caused the folds in her robe to flap in the wind.
Shera folded her arms across her breasts. She looked
up into the starry empyreal.
Father, I shall revenge your death. I soon hope
to have a twist to add to the Baron's mourning.Chapter 15 follows below