Homebound - chpt 8 complete (07/12/04)
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Homebound - chpt 8 complete (07/12/04)
Previous Chapters
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Completed under the ======
Chapter 8
------------
The next few Tazuras and Broden spent his time with small groups of Mohrabas Commanders on ThaStornlas command ship, the Sherak't'enath. Groups of Destroyers practiced manoeuvres and Tor watched them on the main view in his office on the Silicon Mine.
Tor glanced at the date, they were two wozuras and two tazuras away from the ancients return and the activation of the gate. Just two tazuras away from the end of the Argon solar jazura.
"Captain Bhard is on the comm." Liann’s sudden announcement interrupted his thoughts.
"Put him through."
Sheero appeared on the screen, "Tor, just a quick call to let you know that we have the energy cells and are ready to make the jump whenever you are."
"Thanks for the update, the crew here are planning on an end of year celebration. So we'll make the jump after then." He took another look at the calendar.
"Celebration?" Sheero looked slightly confused.
"Yeah, they're calling it the Officially Dead Day."
Sheero shook his head, "Well I suppose it's a slightly more appropriate title than Happy New Jazura. Not that I can see it's much to celebrate about."
Tor looked thoughtful for a second, "I seem to remember the crew celebrated the Argon New Jazura about two mazura's ago. Personally I think it's just an excuse to drink too much, but I'm only the owner, so who am I to argue against their wishes."
"You should never have allowed them access to free alcohol."
Tor gave a wry smile, "You have a point, but these people are brewing their own, and I can't stop that."
Sheero frowned, "In which case, we'll see you after you've recovered."
**
"Entering sector; The Wall."
Caran Belign adjusted his position so that he could get a better view. Once clearing the gate the pilot altered course towards Tor Gralls Bakery. Since contact was lost after the Khaak had sprung the trap Caran's optimism had faded with time. There had been no news, not even a trace of the missing sectors.
Having taken a personal interest in the wrapping up of Tor's business dealings, he scanned his datapad noting the number of relations, no matter how distant, that seemed to be crawling out of the woodwork. Each with their eyes on the potential for inheriting a small fortune.
It was a small satisfaction that he knew Tor had not been idle before he left, and unknown to many he had drawn up a will in the event that he failed to return. A small detail, but it was bound to cause some annoyance.
For Caran there was no professional reason for him to attend, as the Intelligence Agency had already archived its records and closed all files relating to the operations being undertaken. For him this was a personal thing. The Khaak trap had consigned the largest single number of Agency staff to the archives than any other single operation in the history of the service. He reflected with some sadness that he put Tor into the trap and brought a violent end to a boy who just wanted to be a trader.
In his study of the factory assets and accounts Caran noticed that there was some mention of a creditor. This had somehow appeared shortly before contact was lost, and had since been missing in the accounts. The mystery required more than a little research, but he had some answers locked in the memory. The creditor he knew still existed and they were owed credits, a lot of credits, for the purchase of a ship. The only unsolved mystery was the true identity of the person. He had his suspicions what the ship was and its former owner. However there was no evidence to back this up.
Pulling into dock the pilot announced their arrival. Being the Agencies private transport for personnel, Caran was one of only a handful of passengers. He stepped off the ship and looked around noting they had been brought into the security sector of the station.
Signs guided him towards the meeting room and he could hear the sound of voices as he ambled casually along. On entering the room, it was with little surprise that he saw Serandamancketal standing near the back. He studied the assembled crowd, most of them were seated and trying to determine their position in the family pecking order. He wondered with a hint of sarcasm, if Tor knew he had so many relations he could call upon.
Glancing towards the front he noted The Wall sector Governor was still missing, as was the executor of the will. Caran felt they would be finalising the details and ensuring the official government documentation was in order, thereby acknowledging that Tor Grall was officially considered deceased.
Caran glanced around, wondering why there were no Teladi present. He had half expected to see Bilyzonus sat in the crowd. He was slightly more surprised not to see Korecmancketras, the Bakery Station Commander, in the room. Finding a quiet corner in which to lurk Caran leant against the wall. After a short while Serandamancketal drifted across.
"What brings you here?" He spoke quietly, and kept his eyes on the room.
"Received an invitation. You?"
"Curiosity."
The Paranid smiled. Caran took a look at his time piece and made a mental note it was already running late. The door opened and the governor walked in and sat behind the desk. Following him was the attorney and executor of the will. He drew up a chair and sat beside the Governor.
The Governor glanced across and then stood up again. "Good day ladies and gentlemen. I apologise for the delay in the start of proceedings, but we had a few minor matters to discuss and paperwork to be signed." There was a cursory pause as he gathered his thoughts, "Today marks one Argon jazura since the last known contact with the outer sectors. It is with deep sadness and regret that we must now consider the colonists, factory workers and all other travellers lost in those sectors to have perished. At midday Prima City time there will be a memorial service for the nine million, seven hundred and fifty eight thousand men, women and children that went missing this tazura, one jazura ago." Again the governor paused to take a small sip of water from a glass on the desk, "Amongst the many was Tor Grall, which brings us to our unfortunate business today. Most of you will know that nearly all stations are owned and controlled by large corporations and share holders. The Grall Bakery was unique in the respect that it was wholly owned by Tor. Before the executor of the will, Mr. Harrith, reads out the last wishes of the late Mr Grall, I would like it to be known that several of the corporations have approached myself with respect to purchasing the facility, and will make a generous offer to whomever receives the deeds. Those details may be discussed with me at any time after this meeting." The Governor solemnly observed the gathering and then tilted his head towards the executor. "Mr. Harrith, the floor is yours."
Harrith cleared his throat, "Good day ladies and gentlemen. May I first express my deepest condolences to all friends and family of the late Mr. Grall." There was a slight shuffling of feet and some unnecessarily loud sniffing from various parts of the group. The executor pulled out a large envelope with an unbroken seal. Before the crowd of observers he opened it and pulled out the sheets of synthetic parchment. "This being the last will and testament of Mr Tor Grall, who, being of sound mind and body, hereby bequeaths the following to persons or organisations that have most supported him in recent times."
Caran Belign observed the stony faces of the relatives.
"That my creditors are paid in full, and any monies remaining be distributed to those members of my family that attended the funeral of my late parents."
Another glance at the gathering saw mouths drop and there was a flurry of hushed whispers. He accessed the archive on his datapad and scrolled down to the report on the funeral of Tor's parents. The service had sent agents looking for potential assassins, and had listed all who had attended. He quickly cross referenced the lists and found only four matches. Caran then checked the accounts on the datapad and raised an eyebrow.
The executor of the will examined his datapad, "The last accounts of the late Mr. Grall indicates that his accounts closed with a balance of eighteen million eight hundred thousand credits. Total creditors debt is seven million four hundred and twenty thousand credits."
Caran stepped forward, "My apologise Mr. Harrith for interrupting. But may I have a brief word?"
Everyone looked around.
"Commander Belign, why the interruption?" The Governor appeared somewhat surprised.
"The agency has unfortunately uncovered an accounting irregularity with Mr. Gralls accounts. Although Mr. Gralls accounts appear healthy the greater part of that wealth has been accumulated since he went missing. Further investigation has led us to conclusive evidence that the late Mr. Grall did indeed have a business partner. Unfortunately she does not appear to be here today, and as such she has prior claim to three quarters of the monies held in the account, after deductions. We have also discovered another creditor that we have not been able to trace as yet, but they also have a prior claim to a substantial amount of the remaining credits. If you will permit me, I will transfer the details to you."
The executor looked thoughtful and then nodded. A moment later and he looked at the revised numbers, and then sharply at Caran. "With the revised figures, taking into account the partnership and additional creditor, the monies left in the account for distribution to family members, that attended the late Mr. Grall's parents funeral is, five hundred thousand credits." Harrith had spoken slowly and cautiously and the announcement was followed by an uncomfortable silence.
The agent stepped back, and once again resumed his place beside Serandamancketal.
"And how many attended the funeral?"
Caran allowed the Paranid to look at the list.
"I like his style. But who's the missing creditor? Want us to find them for you?"
Caran glanced at the Paranid and with a shrug showed him the name on the datapad. Serandamancketal looked at it and gave a slight snort of restrained laughter, "I think I know this person."
"Well the next time you see her, perhaps you'll tell her I have some good news, if she'd care to drop by the office."
"I'll be sure to mention it. But I don't think they'll be dropping by anytime soon." Serandamancketal grinned.
This seemed to confirm Caran's long held suspicion, he shook his head and frowned. He focussed his attention back on the executor.
"Moving on, the freighters and fighter escorts that have been working independently of the Bakery. These have been bequeathed to the Teladi Bilyzonus, to whom the late Mr. Grall thanks for her support when he was nearly fatally wounded, and the business acumen that she taught him in his tentative trading days."
There were murmurs as people looked around but, just as Caran had noted, they could not see a Teladi in the room.
Harrith paused and took a moment to flick through the last page of listed items, "Lastly the Bakery and all associated assets pertaining to it, as listed here, have been bequeathed to the War Master Mercenary Guild."
There was a significant amount of murmuring and many disappointed faces. Meanwhile the Governor looked perplexed.
"Excuse me Governor, but if my memory serves me correctly, the War Master Guild are not recognised in Argon space as legitimate station owners and have been precluded from owning such facilities in our sectors." The voice belonged to a young, official looking man. All eyes returned to the Governor
"Looks like someone's brought their legal advisor." It was an absent comment, whispered to no one in particular.
"I'll have some of the lads chat to him later." Caran glanced across to the Paranid and gave a slight shake of his head. The mercenary just gave a roguish grin.
"That is the still the case. Unless, Mr. Belign, you know differently." The Governor looked across the room towards Caran.
The big agent moved forward once more, "That is correct, the War Master Guild are currently precluded from owning or buying new stations in Argon territories, due to their association with less than desirable elements of Argon society." A murmur ran through the crowd. Caran waited for a moment and then added, "However."
The room fell silent. "This is currently under review. The possibility of being named owners as part of a last will and testament, has never been considered. There is the very real possibility that they will be given some leeway to maintain ownership under strict monitoring, or that they will be given time to find a suitable buyer."
The Governor gave a slight nod of the head, "And both conditions would satisfy the wishes of the late Mr Grall. How long before we will know the outcome of the review."
Caran contemplated for a while, "Approximately five wozura."
The Governor nodded and turned to Harrith, "Anything else?" The lawyer shook his head. "This concludes our business today. Those that wish to examine the details of the will, Mr Harrith will be available on the station for the next tazura." Rising from his seat the Governor left the chamber.
A number of those present moved forward to talk and view the will. Caran slipped out of the room, not wishing to face any enquiries as to the corrected accounts. The Paranid joined him and they wandered along the corridors back to the main trading centre of the station.
"Do you think they'll let us keep the station?"
"That's down to the politicians and bureaucrats. If Tor had mentioned his intention earlier, I could have prepared a file to help support the lifting of the ban." He stopped and looked at his companion, "You will need to convince them that some of the known criminals you employ have indeed turned over a new leaf. And give assurances that they will be restrained from entering Argon space."
The Paranid nodded, "That should be easy. Now what about the trouble in the sectors?"
"Which sectors? and Yaki or Khaak?" Caran was contemplating whether to returning to his transport or get some food.
"With the Khaak, particularly in Presidents End."
"Ban Danna is leading the operation to recover the sector."
"Not soon then, I hear he's looking for the Earth man?"
"If you know where he is, then I'll be happy to pass the message on?"
Serandamancketal shook his head and glanced across, "Presidents End is on the main trade route. If you leave it too long there will be no traders left to escort."
"Well surprise me and go clear the sector, I would have thought you would relish the fight." Caran came to the decision he should return to Argon Prime.
"Not exactly, and as you pointed out some of our best pilots are not welcome in Argon space."
"All I can say is that it's being dealt with. I understand the Navy is preparing to make some moves, but I don't know when."
"Do you think Tor'll make it back?" Serandamancketal had not really given the idea much thought before, almost as if he expected him to suddenly appear. The meeting now left a twinge of doubt in his mind.
"That's making the presumption that he's still alive after all this time."
"Stranger things have been known to happen."
A slight smile crept on Caran's face, "They have indeed."
-
The Roamer emerged in Hetki's Ocean and within a few mizuras the Defiance had launched. Tor decided to take the long route to the first of the Khaak sectors to conserve energy cells. From here he would jump to the last recorded sector. Tris, for the moment, acted as the sight seeing passenger as the main engines surged to life and propelled them towards the Barren Edge gate.
The vastness of the sector gave the appearance of being deserted, the four Mohrabas Destroyers mere specks in the void. The HUD registered a heavy defence grid surround the new base, the station providing a high level energy shield to protect the grid.
"Don't start the war without me." Tor smiled as he remembered his parting words to Broden.
"Just you remember to come back." Broden had slapped him on the back and laughed.
He hoped it would only take a few Tazuras to find one of the outer sectors, which would give plenty of time to make the return trip. The only reason he would not jump straight back was due to his commitment to leave Tris in the core sectors, so that she could get the bureaucratic paperwork mountain moving.
Mizuras passed quietly by until the Defiance finally crossed the activation threshold.
"Entering sector; Barren Edge."
"Tris, keep an eye on the radiation levels. I have it on good advice that system failures were a big problem in the past when left in this sector for prolonged periods. Hopefully the stazura we'll take to get across here won't have any affect, but I'd rather not have any nasty surprises when we reach the other side."
"Acknowledged."
"Corricel, plot the course and engage the autopilot."
"I'm registering a highly active sun, with continuous solar flares. Mapping primary solar wind currents against the flight path." Tris glanced towards the technical datapad.
"Details confirmed. Adjusting course." Corricel announced.
Tor retired to the rear of the cabin and sat down. Tris remained where she was and continued to monitor the readouts. Something inside made her feel that the next stazura would probably be the last one that they would have a quiet moment together. After a few moments she turned the co-pilots seat to face him.
"I still don't know why you want to stay with the Mohrabas?"
"I don't know if I can really explain why. It's something between honour and stupidity, but I can't decide which."
"The Mohrabas few going to war with the Khaak masses. Now that is stupidity." Tris frowned.
"The little guy versus the big faceless oppressor. A common theme for a lot of stories." Tor gave a wry smile.
"A common theme for a lot of fundamentally flawed idealism. I hope it doesn't come back to bite you."
"Don't worry I'll call on the mighty Argon Empire to lend a hand if things get bad. After all the Khaak are a common enemy."
"I wouldn't count on that." Tris voiced her concern.
"Way I see it is we're in too deep already, just by making first contact. If we abandon them and they get wiped out, we'll only have to live with our conscience. If we abandon them and they're plunged into a long and bloody war but come out victorious, they're going to find a lot of reasons to hate us, perhaps even turn the victorious instrument of war, which we have helped tune into a formidable fighting force, against us. But if we stay and help them to victory and show them we're an ally worthy of trust then the future will be rosy." Tor paused for a moment.
"So in essence we reap what we sow. It's the unfortunate position of transitory politicians to make rash decisions without consideration of the future that has marred our history until now. Personally I want to make sure we do the right thing."
"Fine speech, let's hope the Split don't get introduced to the Mohrabas. Otherwise we could find ourselves at odds with them sooner than you think." Tris smiled, "I'm just glad you didn't go into the good guys, bad guys thing."
Tor shook his head, "I'm sure to a Khaak we are the bad guys and they're the good. At the end of the day it's about survival for the soldiers, greed and power by their leaders. Wars are often fought by a majority of good honest men, not all I'll admit, and fighting for what their leaders believe in."
"That's very black and white, oppression of a people incites more hatred and wars than anything else."
"Yeah, but you have to question the people doing the inciting. If they're so fervent about their cause why aren't they in the lead ship on the charge?"
"Because the cause would die with them."
"Some think it would be martyrdom and the cause would gain strength."
"Only if those behind the leader felt the same passion. But this is all hypothetical, you're talking about small, small stuff where the total annihilation of a group of people wouldn't be well received. Whereas the Khaak don't care if the Mohrabas, Argon or anyone else survives."
"Yeah your right, that's the problem with being on the good side, you have to care just a little. It stops you from doing something really bold that gets rid of the problem, but has consequences. Versus doing something really stupid that doesn't, or in fact makes the situation worse."
"Well with the Khaak, I don't think that's going to be a problem. Everyone seems to hate them. And from the images I've seen, they're ugly and easy to loathe."
"I expect they think the same about us."
"The next time a Khaak ship open fires on us, would you like me to fire a message of peace, love and understanding across its bow to see if they'll stop?" Corricel had been monitoring the conversation.
"I do hate nosy kids." Tor muttered aloud.
"This being a small confined space, with only the three of us here, it is a little hard to be elsewhere." Corricel's voice held a hint of sarcasm.
"You could always switch off your internal sensors. As to your suggestion, that might prove to be the dumbest thing we do on this trip. And at a million to one, it might just work."
"Or it'll confuse them long enough to get away." Tris smiled.
"Let's do it then. Unless it's a huge Khaak Destroyer, in which case we let rip with everything we have. I'd rather not have to spend time wondering if they understood the message."
"Acknowledged."
Tris and Tor spent the rest of the stazura in idle conversation, ever aware that a sudden Khaak appearance prevented anything more personal.
"Entering Khaak sector."
The gate activated and once again the Defiance entered the nebula which masked their appearance.
"Corri, find us a suitable position away from the gate to make the jump." Tor studied the HUD, which only registered objects at less than two hundred metres from the hull.
Tris sat silently watching the terminal. Her apprehension grew. This would be her first encounter with the Khaak since they disengaged the sector gates over a jazura ago. The secondary control stick moved gently as the Defiance moved gently through the swirling mists. The monitor a haze of heavy interference, revealing nothing.
"Jumpdrive charging."
Tris took a deep breath, fearing the horrors that lay ahead, she had watched the footage of the last encounter. Thinking to herself how many times the shields had plunged to near critical levels but somehow still making it out. She sensed her mouth was dry and tentatively swallowed to draw out saliva.
=============
The Defiance emerged at the nearest gate. Tor hit the boost briefly to give the initial surge of speed driving the ship outside the limits of any Khaak scouts.
Tris looked out of the screen, there was nothing to be seen. As she pondered where the Khaak were, jump tunnels opened up ahead of them and clusters of fighters emerged. Tor glanced across and saw her nervous expression.
"Not to worry, we're going much too fast for them to stop us."
"They're moving to block us!"
"Corri, you now have bigger engines, more power. Let's see that message of peace, love and friendship."
The Defiance continued to close and Khaak fighters moved into range. Spears of light lanced towards the ship. Several shimmering in the shields.
"No response. They appear to be ignoring us."
"It wasn't the type of message I was thinking of Corri. Think universal harmony and total eradication of the enemy." Tor twitched the steering and strafed the ship sideways to break the target locks.
Particle beams lashed out at the Khaak ships, the smaller scouts exploded. The heavier fighters swerved away to recover shields. Some, gouted flames shortly before disintegrating in flashes of violent light.
The fighters swarmed in behind, Tris stared at the console as enemy ships moved to block their progress. A momentary glance at the shields turned into a long stare.
"Shields at eighty nine percent. More incoming ships."
"Now we have their attention, let's get out of here. Target the next gate and let's get some momentum into this old girl."
Several Khaak fighters moved to block progress, ships turned in towards the Defiance at full charge. Tor kept the strafe drive engaged, as the Defiance weapons system worked overtime in cutting down the fast approaching vessels. None swerved to avoid the potential of impacting against the Defiance.
With no clear path Tor engaged the primary engines in interplanetary drive. The Defiance lunged forwards, three Khaak scout ships glanced off the shields and spiralled away before exploding.
The haze of Khaak ships that had moments ago surrounded them, were now a rapidly diminishing speck behind them.
"Any sign of pursuit or interception?" Altering course, Tor kept his hands on the helm.
"Nothing on long range scanners."
"Corri, where are the capital ships?" Tor felt unsettled that there was nothing bigger than the heavy fighter. All previous encounters had brought them in contact with several Destroyer class vessels.
"I have eight Destroyers stationed around one of twenty Khaak stations that are scattered through the sector."
"Only eight, how many were here last time?" Tor felt his stomach tighten.
"Records show there were thirty five."
"Where the hell did they go?" Tor glanced at Tris.
"Maybe they've just gone on maneouvres."
"Perhaps they're gathering for an invasion." The disquieting thought had Tor contemplate returning to the Mohrabas, yet that did not seem to fit. He could only guess how many Khaak sectors there were and if all of them had supplied over twenty Destroyers then this would be a much bigger invasion than just one small outpost. He had seen the Khaak waging war against the Xenon, and wondered if the Xenon had made a significant move that had forced the Khaak to pull in more resources. The third option sent an invoulentary shudder down his spine.
"You don't think they've invaded the core sectors?" Tris voices his own concerns.
"Our guys should be able to handle them." Tor put on a reassuring smile.
"Let's hope so."
The Defiance hurtled on unopposed towards the next gate. Tor rested his hands on the flight controls, his eyes scanning the void for any sign of immanent danger. A few mizuras later and they crossed the threshold.
Two Destroyers lurked in ambush. Tor immediately turned the Defiance, the bulk of a destroyer blocking his exit. Khaak lasers lashed across the shields.
Corricel responded with arcing particle beams ripping into the Khaak defences. All three ships shimmered and flared until a glowing ball of dissipating plasma surged away. The shields of the Defiance cooling in the void.
Both Destroyers turned in pursuit, one gushed flames that gradually died away to leave a dark gaping rent in the side of the ship.
"Shields at thirty five percent."
"I though the shields would be stronger with the new engine?" Tor adjusted their heading and speed.
"Stronger, yes, unbreakable, no. I have to say that your piloting skills were not as efficient as they have been in the past."
"Oh, so now it's my fault we took a hammering?"
"Yes. I might suggest that your increased faith in the strength of the shields made you complacent and lazy. I trust you will not allow this situation to continue."
Tor glanced at Tris, who was smiling to herself and appearing to concentrate on the monitors in front of her.
"Is something amusing you?"
"I think that's the first time I've heard a computer tell someone off." Tris smiled.
"Find me the next gate." Tor returned his attention to the HUD. The damaged Khaak ship had slowed, while the remaining craft continued to gain speed. Tor made a quick mental calculation and noted that it had no chance of catching them. "Ready the jumpdrive for the next gate, just in case of suicide jumps."
"Drive in standby."
"Estimated time to jumpgate?"
"Fifty four mizuras." Tris announced.
They sat quietly, watching for any attempted interception. The mizuras dragged by with the occasional request for an update.
"Entering sector."
Tor was ready, but with the vision of clear space in front of him, he just punched the throttle control to maximum.
"Where are they?"
"I have eight stations and six destroyers on long range scanners. No signs of interception. And Tor there are five more gates out of this sector."
"Pull them up on the HUD and show positions." The image appeared, "Plot our current course." He sat pensively looking at the display.
"Any ideas?" Tris asked.
"None. Which gate do we pass closest to if we follow this heading across the sector?"
"We're not in direct line with any of them, but this gate is the closest." The icon was targeted and flashed on the HUD.
"Set the course and let's hope it's the right one. Time to destination?"
"Thirty seven mizuras."
As they approached, the gate suddenly became active. Wormholes opened and Khaak ships appeared, fighters, Destroyers and Carriers swarmed. Tor reset the heading.
"Looks like they don't want us to go that way."
"I wonder why?" Tris glanced over to him.
"There's too many, even for us, to try and find out. Time to next gate?" Tor shrugged as he answered,
"Fifty five mizuras."
"Put it up on the HUD." The Defiance changed course.
Mizuras later and once again the Khaak blockaded the gate as they approached. Tor changed course once again.
"This is getting annoying. Corri, lock the jumpdrive to the next gate and make the jump."
"Jumpdrive charging."
Sezuras later and the wormhole opened as they emerged from the gate. Tor turned the ship around flew back across the threshold.
"Entering sector." Corricel announced.
Nothing greeted them.
"Looks like they've taken the hint not to come too close." Tris glanced over to Tor.
"Don't you believe it. What's on the long range scanners?"
"There's about twelve stations and eighteen Destroyer class ships in the sector. No sign of anyone trying to intercept us. Two more gates leading out of the sector."
"Suggestions on which way to go?" Tor glanced around.
"I am detecting a very faint coming signal through the nearest gate. It is an intermittent pulse similar to a locator device. Nature and origin I can not determine at this time." Corricel announced.
"Target it and let's get going." Tor glanced over to Tris, "It's the best lead we've got."
Before they had reached half way, Khaak ships appeared at every gate.
"Looks like they don't want us to go home." Tor muttered with a growing sense of annoyance.
"What do you want to do?" Tris looked perplexed.
"Wade in there and beat the hell out of them. But I think it might end up a death or glory run, with particular emphasis on death."
"The strafe drive still works." Corricel announced cheerfully.
"Yeah, thanks for that." Tor studied the HUD. "What's the energy cell situation?"
"We have some." Corricel answered.
"I was thinking more in terms of, can we get back?"
"Yes."
"Good, prepare the drive and initiate if our shield strength falls below fifteen percent."
"Fifteen, won't that cut it a little fine." Tris was worried.
"Very, but if we jump out on the point of victory then we'll have to do all this again." Tor looked at her.
.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Completed under the ======
Chapter 8
------------
The next few Tazuras and Broden spent his time with small groups of Mohrabas Commanders on ThaStornlas command ship, the Sherak't'enath. Groups of Destroyers practiced manoeuvres and Tor watched them on the main view in his office on the Silicon Mine.
Tor glanced at the date, they were two wozuras and two tazuras away from the ancients return and the activation of the gate. Just two tazuras away from the end of the Argon solar jazura.
"Captain Bhard is on the comm." Liann’s sudden announcement interrupted his thoughts.
"Put him through."
Sheero appeared on the screen, "Tor, just a quick call to let you know that we have the energy cells and are ready to make the jump whenever you are."
"Thanks for the update, the crew here are planning on an end of year celebration. So we'll make the jump after then." He took another look at the calendar.
"Celebration?" Sheero looked slightly confused.
"Yeah, they're calling it the Officially Dead Day."
Sheero shook his head, "Well I suppose it's a slightly more appropriate title than Happy New Jazura. Not that I can see it's much to celebrate about."
Tor looked thoughtful for a second, "I seem to remember the crew celebrated the Argon New Jazura about two mazura's ago. Personally I think it's just an excuse to drink too much, but I'm only the owner, so who am I to argue against their wishes."
"You should never have allowed them access to free alcohol."
Tor gave a wry smile, "You have a point, but these people are brewing their own, and I can't stop that."
Sheero frowned, "In which case, we'll see you after you've recovered."
**
"Entering sector; The Wall."
Caran Belign adjusted his position so that he could get a better view. Once clearing the gate the pilot altered course towards Tor Gralls Bakery. Since contact was lost after the Khaak had sprung the trap Caran's optimism had faded with time. There had been no news, not even a trace of the missing sectors.
Having taken a personal interest in the wrapping up of Tor's business dealings, he scanned his datapad noting the number of relations, no matter how distant, that seemed to be crawling out of the woodwork. Each with their eyes on the potential for inheriting a small fortune.
It was a small satisfaction that he knew Tor had not been idle before he left, and unknown to many he had drawn up a will in the event that he failed to return. A small detail, but it was bound to cause some annoyance.
For Caran there was no professional reason for him to attend, as the Intelligence Agency had already archived its records and closed all files relating to the operations being undertaken. For him this was a personal thing. The Khaak trap had consigned the largest single number of Agency staff to the archives than any other single operation in the history of the service. He reflected with some sadness that he put Tor into the trap and brought a violent end to a boy who just wanted to be a trader.
In his study of the factory assets and accounts Caran noticed that there was some mention of a creditor. This had somehow appeared shortly before contact was lost, and had since been missing in the accounts. The mystery required more than a little research, but he had some answers locked in the memory. The creditor he knew still existed and they were owed credits, a lot of credits, for the purchase of a ship. The only unsolved mystery was the true identity of the person. He had his suspicions what the ship was and its former owner. However there was no evidence to back this up.
Pulling into dock the pilot announced their arrival. Being the Agencies private transport for personnel, Caran was one of only a handful of passengers. He stepped off the ship and looked around noting they had been brought into the security sector of the station.
Signs guided him towards the meeting room and he could hear the sound of voices as he ambled casually along. On entering the room, it was with little surprise that he saw Serandamancketal standing near the back. He studied the assembled crowd, most of them were seated and trying to determine their position in the family pecking order. He wondered with a hint of sarcasm, if Tor knew he had so many relations he could call upon.
Glancing towards the front he noted The Wall sector Governor was still missing, as was the executor of the will. Caran felt they would be finalising the details and ensuring the official government documentation was in order, thereby acknowledging that Tor Grall was officially considered deceased.
Caran glanced around, wondering why there were no Teladi present. He had half expected to see Bilyzonus sat in the crowd. He was slightly more surprised not to see Korecmancketras, the Bakery Station Commander, in the room. Finding a quiet corner in which to lurk Caran leant against the wall. After a short while Serandamancketal drifted across.
"What brings you here?" He spoke quietly, and kept his eyes on the room.
"Received an invitation. You?"
"Curiosity."
The Paranid smiled. Caran took a look at his time piece and made a mental note it was already running late. The door opened and the governor walked in and sat behind the desk. Following him was the attorney and executor of the will. He drew up a chair and sat beside the Governor.
The Governor glanced across and then stood up again. "Good day ladies and gentlemen. I apologise for the delay in the start of proceedings, but we had a few minor matters to discuss and paperwork to be signed." There was a cursory pause as he gathered his thoughts, "Today marks one Argon jazura since the last known contact with the outer sectors. It is with deep sadness and regret that we must now consider the colonists, factory workers and all other travellers lost in those sectors to have perished. At midday Prima City time there will be a memorial service for the nine million, seven hundred and fifty eight thousand men, women and children that went missing this tazura, one jazura ago." Again the governor paused to take a small sip of water from a glass on the desk, "Amongst the many was Tor Grall, which brings us to our unfortunate business today. Most of you will know that nearly all stations are owned and controlled by large corporations and share holders. The Grall Bakery was unique in the respect that it was wholly owned by Tor. Before the executor of the will, Mr. Harrith, reads out the last wishes of the late Mr Grall, I would like it to be known that several of the corporations have approached myself with respect to purchasing the facility, and will make a generous offer to whomever receives the deeds. Those details may be discussed with me at any time after this meeting." The Governor solemnly observed the gathering and then tilted his head towards the executor. "Mr. Harrith, the floor is yours."
Harrith cleared his throat, "Good day ladies and gentlemen. May I first express my deepest condolences to all friends and family of the late Mr. Grall." There was a slight shuffling of feet and some unnecessarily loud sniffing from various parts of the group. The executor pulled out a large envelope with an unbroken seal. Before the crowd of observers he opened it and pulled out the sheets of synthetic parchment. "This being the last will and testament of Mr Tor Grall, who, being of sound mind and body, hereby bequeaths the following to persons or organisations that have most supported him in recent times."
Caran Belign observed the stony faces of the relatives.
"That my creditors are paid in full, and any monies remaining be distributed to those members of my family that attended the funeral of my late parents."
Another glance at the gathering saw mouths drop and there was a flurry of hushed whispers. He accessed the archive on his datapad and scrolled down to the report on the funeral of Tor's parents. The service had sent agents looking for potential assassins, and had listed all who had attended. He quickly cross referenced the lists and found only four matches. Caran then checked the accounts on the datapad and raised an eyebrow.
The executor of the will examined his datapad, "The last accounts of the late Mr. Grall indicates that his accounts closed with a balance of eighteen million eight hundred thousand credits. Total creditors debt is seven million four hundred and twenty thousand credits."
Caran stepped forward, "My apologise Mr. Harrith for interrupting. But may I have a brief word?"
Everyone looked around.
"Commander Belign, why the interruption?" The Governor appeared somewhat surprised.
"The agency has unfortunately uncovered an accounting irregularity with Mr. Gralls accounts. Although Mr. Gralls accounts appear healthy the greater part of that wealth has been accumulated since he went missing. Further investigation has led us to conclusive evidence that the late Mr. Grall did indeed have a business partner. Unfortunately she does not appear to be here today, and as such she has prior claim to three quarters of the monies held in the account, after deductions. We have also discovered another creditor that we have not been able to trace as yet, but they also have a prior claim to a substantial amount of the remaining credits. If you will permit me, I will transfer the details to you."
The executor looked thoughtful and then nodded. A moment later and he looked at the revised numbers, and then sharply at Caran. "With the revised figures, taking into account the partnership and additional creditor, the monies left in the account for distribution to family members, that attended the late Mr. Grall's parents funeral is, five hundred thousand credits." Harrith had spoken slowly and cautiously and the announcement was followed by an uncomfortable silence.
The agent stepped back, and once again resumed his place beside Serandamancketal.
"And how many attended the funeral?"
Caran allowed the Paranid to look at the list.
"I like his style. But who's the missing creditor? Want us to find them for you?"
Caran glanced at the Paranid and with a shrug showed him the name on the datapad. Serandamancketal looked at it and gave a slight snort of restrained laughter, "I think I know this person."
"Well the next time you see her, perhaps you'll tell her I have some good news, if she'd care to drop by the office."
"I'll be sure to mention it. But I don't think they'll be dropping by anytime soon." Serandamancketal grinned.
This seemed to confirm Caran's long held suspicion, he shook his head and frowned. He focussed his attention back on the executor.
"Moving on, the freighters and fighter escorts that have been working independently of the Bakery. These have been bequeathed to the Teladi Bilyzonus, to whom the late Mr. Grall thanks for her support when he was nearly fatally wounded, and the business acumen that she taught him in his tentative trading days."
There were murmurs as people looked around but, just as Caran had noted, they could not see a Teladi in the room.
Harrith paused and took a moment to flick through the last page of listed items, "Lastly the Bakery and all associated assets pertaining to it, as listed here, have been bequeathed to the War Master Mercenary Guild."
There was a significant amount of murmuring and many disappointed faces. Meanwhile the Governor looked perplexed.
"Excuse me Governor, but if my memory serves me correctly, the War Master Guild are not recognised in Argon space as legitimate station owners and have been precluded from owning such facilities in our sectors." The voice belonged to a young, official looking man. All eyes returned to the Governor
"Looks like someone's brought their legal advisor." It was an absent comment, whispered to no one in particular.
"I'll have some of the lads chat to him later." Caran glanced across to the Paranid and gave a slight shake of his head. The mercenary just gave a roguish grin.
"That is the still the case. Unless, Mr. Belign, you know differently." The Governor looked across the room towards Caran.
The big agent moved forward once more, "That is correct, the War Master Guild are currently precluded from owning or buying new stations in Argon territories, due to their association with less than desirable elements of Argon society." A murmur ran through the crowd. Caran waited for a moment and then added, "However."
The room fell silent. "This is currently under review. The possibility of being named owners as part of a last will and testament, has never been considered. There is the very real possibility that they will be given some leeway to maintain ownership under strict monitoring, or that they will be given time to find a suitable buyer."
The Governor gave a slight nod of the head, "And both conditions would satisfy the wishes of the late Mr Grall. How long before we will know the outcome of the review."
Caran contemplated for a while, "Approximately five wozura."
The Governor nodded and turned to Harrith, "Anything else?" The lawyer shook his head. "This concludes our business today. Those that wish to examine the details of the will, Mr Harrith will be available on the station for the next tazura." Rising from his seat the Governor left the chamber.
A number of those present moved forward to talk and view the will. Caran slipped out of the room, not wishing to face any enquiries as to the corrected accounts. The Paranid joined him and they wandered along the corridors back to the main trading centre of the station.
"Do you think they'll let us keep the station?"
"That's down to the politicians and bureaucrats. If Tor had mentioned his intention earlier, I could have prepared a file to help support the lifting of the ban." He stopped and looked at his companion, "You will need to convince them that some of the known criminals you employ have indeed turned over a new leaf. And give assurances that they will be restrained from entering Argon space."
The Paranid nodded, "That should be easy. Now what about the trouble in the sectors?"
"Which sectors? and Yaki or Khaak?" Caran was contemplating whether to returning to his transport or get some food.
"With the Khaak, particularly in Presidents End."
"Ban Danna is leading the operation to recover the sector."
"Not soon then, I hear he's looking for the Earth man?"
"If you know where he is, then I'll be happy to pass the message on?"
Serandamancketal shook his head and glanced across, "Presidents End is on the main trade route. If you leave it too long there will be no traders left to escort."
"Well surprise me and go clear the sector, I would have thought you would relish the fight." Caran came to the decision he should return to Argon Prime.
"Not exactly, and as you pointed out some of our best pilots are not welcome in Argon space."
"All I can say is that it's being dealt with. I understand the Navy is preparing to make some moves, but I don't know when."
"Do you think Tor'll make it back?" Serandamancketal had not really given the idea much thought before, almost as if he expected him to suddenly appear. The meeting now left a twinge of doubt in his mind.
"That's making the presumption that he's still alive after all this time."
"Stranger things have been known to happen."
A slight smile crept on Caran's face, "They have indeed."
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The Roamer emerged in Hetki's Ocean and within a few mizuras the Defiance had launched. Tor decided to take the long route to the first of the Khaak sectors to conserve energy cells. From here he would jump to the last recorded sector. Tris, for the moment, acted as the sight seeing passenger as the main engines surged to life and propelled them towards the Barren Edge gate.
The vastness of the sector gave the appearance of being deserted, the four Mohrabas Destroyers mere specks in the void. The HUD registered a heavy defence grid surround the new base, the station providing a high level energy shield to protect the grid.
"Don't start the war without me." Tor smiled as he remembered his parting words to Broden.
"Just you remember to come back." Broden had slapped him on the back and laughed.
He hoped it would only take a few Tazuras to find one of the outer sectors, which would give plenty of time to make the return trip. The only reason he would not jump straight back was due to his commitment to leave Tris in the core sectors, so that she could get the bureaucratic paperwork mountain moving.
Mizuras passed quietly by until the Defiance finally crossed the activation threshold.
"Entering sector; Barren Edge."
"Tris, keep an eye on the radiation levels. I have it on good advice that system failures were a big problem in the past when left in this sector for prolonged periods. Hopefully the stazura we'll take to get across here won't have any affect, but I'd rather not have any nasty surprises when we reach the other side."
"Acknowledged."
"Corricel, plot the course and engage the autopilot."
"I'm registering a highly active sun, with continuous solar flares. Mapping primary solar wind currents against the flight path." Tris glanced towards the technical datapad.
"Details confirmed. Adjusting course." Corricel announced.
Tor retired to the rear of the cabin and sat down. Tris remained where she was and continued to monitor the readouts. Something inside made her feel that the next stazura would probably be the last one that they would have a quiet moment together. After a few moments she turned the co-pilots seat to face him.
"I still don't know why you want to stay with the Mohrabas?"
"I don't know if I can really explain why. It's something between honour and stupidity, but I can't decide which."
"The Mohrabas few going to war with the Khaak masses. Now that is stupidity." Tris frowned.
"The little guy versus the big faceless oppressor. A common theme for a lot of stories." Tor gave a wry smile.
"A common theme for a lot of fundamentally flawed idealism. I hope it doesn't come back to bite you."
"Don't worry I'll call on the mighty Argon Empire to lend a hand if things get bad. After all the Khaak are a common enemy."
"I wouldn't count on that." Tris voiced her concern.
"Way I see it is we're in too deep already, just by making first contact. If we abandon them and they get wiped out, we'll only have to live with our conscience. If we abandon them and they're plunged into a long and bloody war but come out victorious, they're going to find a lot of reasons to hate us, perhaps even turn the victorious instrument of war, which we have helped tune into a formidable fighting force, against us. But if we stay and help them to victory and show them we're an ally worthy of trust then the future will be rosy." Tor paused for a moment.
"So in essence we reap what we sow. It's the unfortunate position of transitory politicians to make rash decisions without consideration of the future that has marred our history until now. Personally I want to make sure we do the right thing."
"Fine speech, let's hope the Split don't get introduced to the Mohrabas. Otherwise we could find ourselves at odds with them sooner than you think." Tris smiled, "I'm just glad you didn't go into the good guys, bad guys thing."
Tor shook his head, "I'm sure to a Khaak we are the bad guys and they're the good. At the end of the day it's about survival for the soldiers, greed and power by their leaders. Wars are often fought by a majority of good honest men, not all I'll admit, and fighting for what their leaders believe in."
"That's very black and white, oppression of a people incites more hatred and wars than anything else."
"Yeah, but you have to question the people doing the inciting. If they're so fervent about their cause why aren't they in the lead ship on the charge?"
"Because the cause would die with them."
"Some think it would be martyrdom and the cause would gain strength."
"Only if those behind the leader felt the same passion. But this is all hypothetical, you're talking about small, small stuff where the total annihilation of a group of people wouldn't be well received. Whereas the Khaak don't care if the Mohrabas, Argon or anyone else survives."
"Yeah your right, that's the problem with being on the good side, you have to care just a little. It stops you from doing something really bold that gets rid of the problem, but has consequences. Versus doing something really stupid that doesn't, or in fact makes the situation worse."
"Well with the Khaak, I don't think that's going to be a problem. Everyone seems to hate them. And from the images I've seen, they're ugly and easy to loathe."
"I expect they think the same about us."
"The next time a Khaak ship open fires on us, would you like me to fire a message of peace, love and understanding across its bow to see if they'll stop?" Corricel had been monitoring the conversation.
"I do hate nosy kids." Tor muttered aloud.
"This being a small confined space, with only the three of us here, it is a little hard to be elsewhere." Corricel's voice held a hint of sarcasm.
"You could always switch off your internal sensors. As to your suggestion, that might prove to be the dumbest thing we do on this trip. And at a million to one, it might just work."
"Or it'll confuse them long enough to get away." Tris smiled.
"Let's do it then. Unless it's a huge Khaak Destroyer, in which case we let rip with everything we have. I'd rather not have to spend time wondering if they understood the message."
"Acknowledged."
Tris and Tor spent the rest of the stazura in idle conversation, ever aware that a sudden Khaak appearance prevented anything more personal.
"Entering Khaak sector."
The gate activated and once again the Defiance entered the nebula which masked their appearance.
"Corri, find us a suitable position away from the gate to make the jump." Tor studied the HUD, which only registered objects at less than two hundred metres from the hull.
Tris sat silently watching the terminal. Her apprehension grew. This would be her first encounter with the Khaak since they disengaged the sector gates over a jazura ago. The secondary control stick moved gently as the Defiance moved gently through the swirling mists. The monitor a haze of heavy interference, revealing nothing.
"Jumpdrive charging."
Tris took a deep breath, fearing the horrors that lay ahead, she had watched the footage of the last encounter. Thinking to herself how many times the shields had plunged to near critical levels but somehow still making it out. She sensed her mouth was dry and tentatively swallowed to draw out saliva.
=============
The Defiance emerged at the nearest gate. Tor hit the boost briefly to give the initial surge of speed driving the ship outside the limits of any Khaak scouts.
Tris looked out of the screen, there was nothing to be seen. As she pondered where the Khaak were, jump tunnels opened up ahead of them and clusters of fighters emerged. Tor glanced across and saw her nervous expression.
"Not to worry, we're going much too fast for them to stop us."
"They're moving to block us!"
"Corri, you now have bigger engines, more power. Let's see that message of peace, love and friendship."
The Defiance continued to close and Khaak fighters moved into range. Spears of light lanced towards the ship. Several shimmering in the shields.
"No response. They appear to be ignoring us."
"It wasn't the type of message I was thinking of Corri. Think universal harmony and total eradication of the enemy." Tor twitched the steering and strafed the ship sideways to break the target locks.
Particle beams lashed out at the Khaak ships, the smaller scouts exploded. The heavier fighters swerved away to recover shields. Some, gouted flames shortly before disintegrating in flashes of violent light.
The fighters swarmed in behind, Tris stared at the console as enemy ships moved to block their progress. A momentary glance at the shields turned into a long stare.
"Shields at eighty nine percent. More incoming ships."
"Now we have their attention, let's get out of here. Target the next gate and let's get some momentum into this old girl."
Several Khaak fighters moved to block progress, ships turned in towards the Defiance at full charge. Tor kept the strafe drive engaged, as the Defiance weapons system worked overtime in cutting down the fast approaching vessels. None swerved to avoid the potential of impacting against the Defiance.
With no clear path Tor engaged the primary engines in interplanetary drive. The Defiance lunged forwards, three Khaak scout ships glanced off the shields and spiralled away before exploding.
The haze of Khaak ships that had moments ago surrounded them, were now a rapidly diminishing speck behind them.
"Any sign of pursuit or interception?" Altering course, Tor kept his hands on the helm.
"Nothing on long range scanners."
"Corri, where are the capital ships?" Tor felt unsettled that there was nothing bigger than the heavy fighter. All previous encounters had brought them in contact with several Destroyer class vessels.
"I have eight Destroyers stationed around one of twenty Khaak stations that are scattered through the sector."
"Only eight, how many were here last time?" Tor felt his stomach tighten.
"Records show there were thirty five."
"Where the hell did they go?" Tor glanced at Tris.
"Maybe they've just gone on maneouvres."
"Perhaps they're gathering for an invasion." The disquieting thought had Tor contemplate returning to the Mohrabas, yet that did not seem to fit. He could only guess how many Khaak sectors there were and if all of them had supplied over twenty Destroyers then this would be a much bigger invasion than just one small outpost. He had seen the Khaak waging war against the Xenon, and wondered if the Xenon had made a significant move that had forced the Khaak to pull in more resources. The third option sent an invoulentary shudder down his spine.
"You don't think they've invaded the core sectors?" Tris voices his own concerns.
"Our guys should be able to handle them." Tor put on a reassuring smile.
"Let's hope so."
The Defiance hurtled on unopposed towards the next gate. Tor rested his hands on the flight controls, his eyes scanning the void for any sign of immanent danger. A few mizuras later and they crossed the threshold.
Two Destroyers lurked in ambush. Tor immediately turned the Defiance, the bulk of a destroyer blocking his exit. Khaak lasers lashed across the shields.
Corricel responded with arcing particle beams ripping into the Khaak defences. All three ships shimmered and flared until a glowing ball of dissipating plasma surged away. The shields of the Defiance cooling in the void.
Both Destroyers turned in pursuit, one gushed flames that gradually died away to leave a dark gaping rent in the side of the ship.
"Shields at thirty five percent."
"I though the shields would be stronger with the new engine?" Tor adjusted their heading and speed.
"Stronger, yes, unbreakable, no. I have to say that your piloting skills were not as efficient as they have been in the past."
"Oh, so now it's my fault we took a hammering?"
"Yes. I might suggest that your increased faith in the strength of the shields made you complacent and lazy. I trust you will not allow this situation to continue."
Tor glanced at Tris, who was smiling to herself and appearing to concentrate on the monitors in front of her.
"Is something amusing you?"
"I think that's the first time I've heard a computer tell someone off." Tris smiled.
"Find me the next gate." Tor returned his attention to the HUD. The damaged Khaak ship had slowed, while the remaining craft continued to gain speed. Tor made a quick mental calculation and noted that it had no chance of catching them. "Ready the jumpdrive for the next gate, just in case of suicide jumps."
"Drive in standby."
"Estimated time to jumpgate?"
"Fifty four mizuras." Tris announced.
They sat quietly, watching for any attempted interception. The mizuras dragged by with the occasional request for an update.
"Entering sector."
Tor was ready, but with the vision of clear space in front of him, he just punched the throttle control to maximum.
"Where are they?"
"I have eight stations and six destroyers on long range scanners. No signs of interception. And Tor there are five more gates out of this sector."
"Pull them up on the HUD and show positions." The image appeared, "Plot our current course." He sat pensively looking at the display.
"Any ideas?" Tris asked.
"None. Which gate do we pass closest to if we follow this heading across the sector?"
"We're not in direct line with any of them, but this gate is the closest." The icon was targeted and flashed on the HUD.
"Set the course and let's hope it's the right one. Time to destination?"
"Thirty seven mizuras."
As they approached, the gate suddenly became active. Wormholes opened and Khaak ships appeared, fighters, Destroyers and Carriers swarmed. Tor reset the heading.
"Looks like they don't want us to go that way."
"I wonder why?" Tris glanced over to him.
"There's too many, even for us, to try and find out. Time to next gate?" Tor shrugged as he answered,
"Fifty five mizuras."
"Put it up on the HUD." The Defiance changed course.
Mizuras later and once again the Khaak blockaded the gate as they approached. Tor changed course once again.
"This is getting annoying. Corri, lock the jumpdrive to the next gate and make the jump."
"Jumpdrive charging."
Sezuras later and the wormhole opened as they emerged from the gate. Tor turned the ship around flew back across the threshold.
"Entering sector." Corricel announced.
Nothing greeted them.
"Looks like they've taken the hint not to come too close." Tris glanced over to Tor.
"Don't you believe it. What's on the long range scanners?"
"There's about twelve stations and eighteen Destroyer class ships in the sector. No sign of anyone trying to intercept us. Two more gates leading out of the sector."
"Suggestions on which way to go?" Tor glanced around.
"I am detecting a very faint coming signal through the nearest gate. It is an intermittent pulse similar to a locator device. Nature and origin I can not determine at this time." Corricel announced.
"Target it and let's get going." Tor glanced over to Tris, "It's the best lead we've got."
Before they had reached half way, Khaak ships appeared at every gate.
"Looks like they don't want us to go home." Tor muttered with a growing sense of annoyance.
"What do you want to do?" Tris looked perplexed.
"Wade in there and beat the hell out of them. But I think it might end up a death or glory run, with particular emphasis on death."
"The strafe drive still works." Corricel announced cheerfully.
"Yeah, thanks for that." Tor studied the HUD. "What's the energy cell situation?"
"We have some." Corricel answered.
"I was thinking more in terms of, can we get back?"
"Yes."
"Good, prepare the drive and initiate if our shield strength falls below fifteen percent."
"Fifteen, won't that cut it a little fine." Tris was worried.
"Very, but if we jump out on the point of victory then we'll have to do all this again." Tor looked at her.
.
Last edited by Mercenary on Wed, 8. Dec 04, 00:05, edited 5 times in total.
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Good as always but, to sound like a broken record, this isn't right.
It's a bad, unprofessional, habit apparently.
The game is - 'Don't piss off busy people like agents and editors.'
I went to a sci-fi convention in Dublin last week and it had a whole session on this sort of thing. You are asking busy people to recommend to their company that they invest £100,000 in you. Hundreds of unsolicited manuscripts are submitted and not all are going to be read. Things like this give these busy people an excuse not to read.
"I'll have some of the lads chat to him later." S whispered.
That's all it needs. Nothing is gained from the reverse but it slows the reader down and comes off as slightly pretentious and patronising. And it goes without saying I've been just as guilty of this mistake.
You have a bad habit of getting speech and attribution in the wrong order. And according to my tutor, who is a published author, editors love people who send in submissions written like this. It means they can discard it without reading and get onto the next in a 200 book pile.Caran commented quietly to Serandamancketal, "Looks like someone's brought their legal advisor."
Serandamancketal replied in a whisper, "I'll have some of the lads chat to him later."
It's a bad, unprofessional, habit apparently.
The game is - 'Don't piss off busy people like agents and editors.'
I went to a sci-fi convention in Dublin last week and it had a whole session on this sort of thing. You are asking busy people to recommend to their company that they invest £100,000 in you. Hundreds of unsolicited manuscripts are submitted and not all are going to be read. Things like this give these busy people an excuse not to read.
"I'll have some of the lads chat to him later." S whispered.
That's all it needs. Nothing is gained from the reverse but it slows the reader down and comes off as slightly pretentious and patronising. And it goes without saying I've been just as guilty of this mistake.
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i think Tor should be made to prove he's tor by passing a DNA test.KiwiNZ wrote:Excellent read, Merc. I do remember reading most of it before, way backBut you did some amendments to it. Will be interesting to see the resolution to this issue.
Looking forward to the next installment!
"Tazuras and Broden spent"

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Just finished reading all eight chapters. BTW, the link to chapter 5 actually links back to chapter 2. Sorry about brining THAT mistake up.
Wow, maybe the Khaak WILL kill themselves instaed of having to listen to the love, peace stuff. Keep it rolling, and keep the plot as good.
(BTW- Assassins Curse, I have chapter eight worked out now, WILL ask for ideas on chap 9).
Wow, maybe the Khaak WILL kill themselves instaed of having to listen to the love, peace stuff. Keep it rolling, and keep the plot as good.
(BTW- Assassins Curse, I have chapter eight worked out now, WILL ask for ideas on chap 9).
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Cheers,Zemethius wrote:Just finished reading all eight chapters. BTW, the link to chapter 5 actually links back to chapter 2. Sorry about brining THAT mistake up.
Wow, maybe the Khaak WILL kill themselves instaed of having to listen to the love, peace stuff. Keep it rolling, and keep the plot as good.
(BTW- Assassins Curse, I have chapter eight worked out now, WILL ask for ideas on chap 9).
1st time anyones mentioned the link problem and I've been cut and pasting it.
Not as active on the forum as I used to be, just posting here as and when so I have some catch up reading to do.
PM me if you're looking for ideas. In the meantime I'd best get reading.
Note: This is the 4th story in the series, and if you've not read the last 2 then things may appear a bit out of kilter with the X2 universe you know from the game.
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End of the series yes, as this is going to be the last of the Traders stories. In terms of it's overall length then probably near half way, 1st half is getting home, 2nd section is settling old scores and last tiny bit is big punch up at the end, oh and the link to the first chapter of the first story.SteveMill wrote:Interesting to see old characters again. It feels like we're nearing the end - is that so?