War of Retribution: Frontlines

By M. G. Lawson

Captain Gabriel Lyons, a man displaced in time by a botched cryonics experiment, and Leena Malani of the Planetary Senate, are charged with discovering a potential alliance between the Soliace Regime and the Zeren Empire, suspects of the attack. But as he searches for conspiracies and secret alliances in the present, dark secrets begin to unfold about his past.
As the Known Galaxy stands on the precipice of war the driving malevolence orchestrating the events establishes his presence, known only as the Zeftka xuraffe.

• Language: English
• Publisher: M. G. Lawson
• Release date: Apr 24, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476112756

M. G. Lawson

Matthew G. Lawson currently resides in Fairborn, Ohio. He lives happily with his wife and and two sons.

Book preview

Albrecht Otto von Sparr; field marshal (male Human)

Bachtera; champion (male Soliace)

Craig McAlpin; chancellor (male Human)

Dominick Sardis; advisor, ISF director (male Human)

Douglas Jefferson; commander, Hornet, (male Human)

Edwin Caine; advisor; senator (male Human)

Etairos; military governor, Eru (male Bfessian)

Exthru; priestess (female Bfessian)

Fel’Tora; ensign, Endi’Ka’Tor (male Soliace)

Firae; pirate, Eru (male Bfessian)

Franklin White; colonel (male Human)

Gabriel Lyons; captain (male Human)

Giopertani Augustus; major Hornet (male Human)

Glenn Jackson; admiral, Hornet (male Human)

Kaysica; bodyguard (female Bfessian)

Kerat Rimali; mercenary (male Human)

Katarina Konstantiniova; rear admiral (female Human)

Leena Malani; senator (female Human)

Mordicai Scharwenka; captain (male Human)

Pallahn; captain, Endi’Ka’Tor (male Soliace)

Pel’Rais; pirate, Eru (male Soliace)

Peter Lassiter; doctor, Hornet (male Human)

Rick Jackson; fleet admiral (male Human)

Radre; engineer, Eru (female Bfessian)

Rhett Montgomery; lieutenant commander (male Human)

Salvador DeTago, old man (male Human)

Semyon Zhukov; vice admiral (male Human)

Sil’Altera; commander, Endi’Ka’Tor (male Soliace)

Stacy Wallace; senator (female Human)

Ti’Kell; lieutenant, Endi’Ka’Tor (male Soliace)

Marcus Overton; captain, Wasp (male Human)

Vertaun; regent (male Soliace)

Zeftka xuraffe; unknown (male unknown)

PROLOGUE

July 22nd, 2087

Washington, D.C.

You know I hate these damned public events. Couldn’t you have chosen someone else? Gabriel Lyons griped, slouched in the leather seat, fiddling with a tear in the black leather of the seat. His black uniform was stifling and made his neck itch. It didn’t help it was the middle of summer as well. Assistant Director of Special Operations for the Earth Coalition, Marcus Hopper, smiled slightly and continued to go over his speech on his datapad.

The black limousine traveled north on Jefferson Davis Highway bouncing heavily on the pot hole riddled road toward the Pentagon. Many streets in Washington D.C., as well as many other larger cities were neglected more than they have in the past. With the increasing number of hover conveyances entering the market, there was no need to keep the streets nicely paved. The limousine bounced again and Gabriel felt as though his head were about to plow into the ceiling. His six foot frame didn’t help the situation.

Of course he couldn’t understand why the Director couldn’t have procured one of those new vehicles. Gabriel thought it might have something to do with nostalgia, but he truly believed it was more sinister.

You did this on purpose didn’t you? he asked, trying not to crack a smile. Once again the Director refused to make eye contact.

Do what on purpose, Mr. Lyons?

This event, this vehicle, this, he paused, heat.

The director finally looked up with his weathered green eyes. Commander Lyons, you are the poster boy of the E.C.’s anti-terrorist program. You’re practically a national hero. You’re lucky I don’t make you give this speech and answer to the press.

That would be fantastic. That way every terrorist in the world know who I am. That should make my job real easy. Why did you even agree to meet with the press? It’s not our job to answer questions, leave that to the diplomatic corps.

Normally I would agree, but the situation is getting out of hand. You’ve read the newsfeeds, the public is growing more and more restless over our actions and they don’t believe the rhetoric being spewed by the press secretary. This incident with Ndassa was the final straw. We all have to take responsibility for our actions; our day of reckoning is today.

Do you believe that, sir? Gabriel asked, eyeing the director sternly. He heard the words, but Gabriel could hear by the tone in his voice that he was being forced to make this speech and answer questions.

"What do you believe, Mr. Lyons?" the director asked back. Gabriel thought for a moment.

I see things on a daily basis the public cannot see and would not understand if they did. Here in the States and most of the continent everyone lives under an umbrella of protection provided by the Earth Coalition. We’re virtually crime free, poverty is nearly eliminated and violent crimes are practically unheard of. But out there, in the darkest regions of the world there are still the darkest souls of the world, and if we don’t stop them on their turf, they’re going to come here.

That’s just damn poetic, Commander, maybe I should have you write my speeches from now on. He laughed.

Gabriel shook his head. We shouldn’t even be in this situation, sir. Everyone on this Earth knows Ndassa is a terrorist and directly responsible for setting up the bombings of our embassies in Egypt and Sudan. The Tanzanian government set us up. They gave us permission to grab Ndassa and now they have the nerve to say he is a government official and was detained illegally. It’s all a bunch of bullroar.

And what do you suppose we do, Commander?

Hang the man before it’s too late.

That’s a little ruthless, Mr. Lyons. I thought we trained you better than that. Hopper said, giving his full attention to Gabriel. The commander couldn’t help but look away from his superior’s sharp gaze.

He knew Hopper was right, and he regretted the words as they came out of his mouth. Although Gabriel would want nothing more than to have every known terrorist killed on sight, if they were to be detained by the Earth Coalition they were entitled due process.

Sorry, sir, that was uncalled for.

Never apologize for your convictions, Commander Lyons. I chose you over other candidates because of your convictions. Personally, I share them myself, but unfortunately I have to answer to others.

And I am grateful for your confidence in me. It’s just, he paused, breaking attention away from Hopper.

Go ahead, Gabriel. Speak your mind.

It’s just I’m tired of risking my life for a public that is unappreciative of what I do. When the EC was created, the idea was simple: establish a line against the growing acts of terrorism in the world. Any country that wanted to join needed to follow the criteria we set down and allow our agents to work autonomously within their borders to apprehend any terrorists. The public cheered at our early successes, but now . . . now that they know some of the measures we have to take to get some of these terrorists, they become sheepish. And when they feel we’ve somehow mistreated one of them they become outraged and protest at our facilities. It makes me sick.

Hopper nodded in agreement. The public is finicky and unfortunately so are the bureaucrats. Combined with their lack of spines, they’ll bend when the public puts pressure on them and will gladly put us in front of the firing squad. It is how things have been and always will be.

If you ask me. . . He stopped as his communication device chirped. He pulled it out of his breast pocket. He slid out the screen, revealing an image of a man in a similar black uniform. Go for Lyons.

Gabriel, it’s Jack. We’ve got a situation down here, he said, a definite hint of anxiety behind his voice.

What’s going on?

We have protestors along the fences, Jack explained.

We always have protestors along the fences, what’s the big deal? Gabriel asked. Jack was a good agent, but Gabriel felt that sometimes he worried too much about the little things.

Not like this; we may have hundreds at the gate and more are coming in from every street. He held up his communication device toward the crowd, showing the mob to Gabriel himself. Jack was right, it was a substantially larger crowd then there usually was. This press conference was mentioned in the news, but he didn’t expect it to draw this much of a crowd.

Gabriel must have had a noticeable sour expression on his face since Hopper interjected.

What is it, Commander?

There is a large group of protesters at the facility.

Anything we should worry about?

Gabriel shot him a look where words weren’t necessary to answer that question. Get some more guards to the gates. We’re passing under the 395 now, ETA about ten minutes.

Yes sir, Jack replied.

There’s still time to call this off, sir, Gabriel said. An increase in protestors meant an increase in danger for the director.

Hopper smiled from the corner of his thin lips, And there is still time to make you read this speech. We will continue as planned.

Gabriel’s estimated time of arrival was nearly correct. There was increased traffic getting into the facility, mostly from drivers driving slowly as they gawked at the large mass of people gathering outside the fence near on the east side of the Pentagon Metro Station.

The limousine stopped under the protective awnings. Through the tinted windows, Gabriel could see Jack with a small contingent of other agents approach. Jack opened the door for him. Even under the awning, the bright afternoon sun filled the vehicle cabin. Gabriel pulled out a pair of dark sunglasses from his pocket and as he exited the limousine put on his cap.

He nodded to Jack as he stepped out and adjusted his uniform. Jack responded in kind. Gabriel made sure any of the agents under him didn’t salute. Part of his job was to be anonymous and any saluting would help identify rank. Even their uniforms were bereft of any identification. They were black, with touches of dark gray Aztec patterns on them. Name ribbons were removed and no indication of rank was visible in the typical locations for the military. The only patch the agents wore today was on their right shoulder and it was that of the EC emblem; an image of Earth surrounded by an eagle holding a wreath and bunch of arrows.

Gabriel took note of the situation. Thirty folding chairs were placed on the lawn between the Pentagon walls and the fencing that ran parallel to the concrete pathway. Jack was right, there were easily five hundred people crowding the fences. Only a small percentage had pre-made signs. Most said Free Ndassa or Freedom for All. Gabriel shook his head. If only they knew the things he knew. Since a majority of the people didn’t have signs, it showed many of the people were here hastily.

Most of the members of the press were out of their chairs interviewing the people closest to the fencing, but as soon as they saw Hopper exit the limousine, they turned their attention to him and many took their designated seats.

Gabriel stayed close to Hopper as they made their way toward the podium that sat on a makeshift stage a few meters from the press seating. Gabriel scanned the crowd looking for any suspicious characters. There was a line of Pentagon security on their side of the fence as well keeping an eye on the crowd, but Gabriel didn’t have confidence in their ability. It’s not that he didn’t trust them, they just didn’t have much experience in the field and that was dangerous.

Hopper took the stage and placed himself behind the podium. He placed the paper speech he would read from down on the wooden surface. He preferred to write his own speeches and despised Teleprompters. Gabriel took position to the director’s left while Jack stood to his right.

He began his speech.

Gabriel didn’t pay any attention to what he had to say. He stood motionless with his hands behind his back; scanning the protestors behind the fence with his eyes. Most of them had quieted down to listen to the speech, but there were still more people coming and that was concerning to the commander. The press were diligently taking notes on their electronic devices or jotting stuff down on notepads.

The sun was directly above the complex eliminating nearly all shadows. The lack of trees and other structures helped eliminate any places for people to hide as well.

Hopper was about halfway through his speech when the crowd started to become more disruptive. It wasn’t a commotion toward the director, but deep within the crowd itself. Gabriel looked to Jack and sent a nonverbal signal; ordering him to send more men to investigate. He nodded and stepped off the platform in order to speak into the microphone attached to his cuff. Gabriel turned his attention back to the disruption.

Gabriel could feel his gut wrenching. Something was wrong and he could feel it. It was then he caught glimpse of a reflection in the crowd, not from the disruption, but about thirty feet to the left. It was only for an instant, clearly the light reflecting off a curved metal surface; then it was gone. He tried to find the source, but the mass of people was too dense. He shifted his weight to his left leg that would allow him to spring toward Hopper when needed.

It was needed.

The sunlight caught the metal object again; it was a weapon. What happened next was a blur. He wasn’t sure how he leaped before the shot was fired, nor how he was able to get the height and the distance needed to clear Hopper away from the podium and to the ground. The crowd screamed and dispersed widely. Jack and the other agents pulled back around the stage, surrounding Hopper and Gabriel who was still laying on top of him; unable to move.

The voices of everyone around him were muffled, a cacophony of nothing but a low roar. He knew he had been hit, but he couldn’t feel the pain, he was in shock. Jack gently rolled Gabriel off Hopper and had the director escorted into the Pentagon.

Who. . .fired? he managed to asking, fighting the pain that was beginning to surge through his body.

We don’t know. He got away though the chaos somehow, but we’ll find him, Jack replied.

What…about me?

You were hit, but you’ll be okay. Just stay still till the medical team arrives. Jack’s voice wasn’t very convincing.

Let me see, Gabriel said, wincing in pain.

Jack didn’t want to comply, but he was his friend as much as his superior. He lifted Gabriel’s head gently to where he was nearly upright. Gabriel looked down toward his legs as he lay shaking on the concrete, the last thing he saw before blacking out was the lower half of his left leg, soaked in blood and dangling only by a few stands of remaining muscle, tendon and his black uniform.

EIGHTY-THREE YEARS LATER

CHAPTER ONE

The harsh consequences of reality weighed heavily against the chest of Captain Pallahn as he stared deep into the black, his light blue eyes fixed on the small blue and fuchsia dot that was the planet Kor’Sahn’Ra.

The scene seemed all too peaceful from his vantage point. The stars were stagnant and tranquil. The ominous asteroid belt that orbited the inner part of this system hung gently against the star filled panoramic, each independent asteroid dancing its own rhythm. Light from the nearby sun ignited the dense dust particles like a halo. All was quiet.

The harsh reality was that his long range scouting patrol was overdue for rendezvous by a standard hour. The consequences of this failed mission could mean the start of a war. A war he and his people were on the cusp of launching, but still standing on the precipice of preparation. Any miscalculated move now could topple all they have worked to gain.

Target coming within range now, sir, a male voice called out from behind him, breaking his contemplation.

Prepare to fire, Captain Pallahn replied, maintaining his position on the bridge of the Soliace flagship Endi’Ka’Tor.

Target is bearing fifty degrees declination port side. A voice responded from one of the many control panels that lined the center of the bridge.

Arm all port side batteries, the captain paused, fire. Moments of silence passed shared by all the crewmembers. Status? Pallahn finally asked.

All batteries have fired, target has been heavily damaged.

What? Pallahn turned toward the bridge crew. He clinched his fists tightly. I give you two minutes and you give me heavily damaged? He struggled to hold back his anger. All hands stand down. Prepare another target drone and run the simulation again. If you do not destroy the target in less than two minutes, I will place a permanent demerit on all of your records.

There was a universal acknowledgement from the bridge crew. Captain Pallahn turned back toward the large windows that lined the front of the bridge. His attention turned back toward Kor’Sahn’Ra. There was nothing particularly strategic about the planet or the system. It was well within Soliace borders, far away from any probing abilities of the major powers.

From time to time, there have been ‘accidental navigational errors’ that have caused a few alien ships to get near the system. A complete ruse of course, the game of espionage was a delicate one, but sometimes the most obvious deception can be the most effective.

The system did make an excellent proving ground with its relative obscurity and many asteroids. More importantly, it made the perfect rendezvous for his mission.

A faint alarm sounded on the bridge and the second combat simulation ended. This time, the crew preformed adequately and destroyed the drone within his two-minute ultimatum. Barely. He ran these combat simulations almost constantly as he waited to help ease the passing of time and the stress that was building deep inside his gut.

For the past six cycles, he sent over a dozen patrols into the domain of the Earthers, the United Earth Space Fleet, UESF, as they call it. Each has been uneventful, but successful. The Endi’Ka’Tor was the first, and only vessel to berth the only experimental fighters equipped with hyperdrive engines. Known as Shak’Shii class fighters, they were designed by the lucrative El’Son’Li Industries based on his home planet of Soli.

The fighters have the ability to jump into a system, scan defenses, and then jump out again before the enemy even knew they were there. The detection profile of a fighter is tremendously smaller than that of a ship of the line and even a scout ship. It was a simple concept and a tactical advantage that for now only the Soliace maintained. The captain knew, however, it would only be a matter of time before every other space fairing race developed the technology to implement hyperdrive engines into a small fighter. They needed to take advantage while they had the chance.

Pallahn was quite surprised his people developed this technology. Not that he lacked faith in his race and their accomplishments; thinking such a thing would be treason, but through his entire military career he never heard of the development for this project or the desire for the program. Then one day, a covert transport shows up with the fighters and he begins to receive orders to probe the UESF.

More recently, the fighters have been routinely reaching deep into the heart of UESF space to take reconnaissance scans of a planet they called Isidore, a heavily defended planet and their main base of military operations outside of their Homeworld.

However, there was a caveat to these new missions. The large ice planet orbited a dying white dwarf star and its companion dwarf. The intense gravimetric fields created by these two stars disrupted hyperspace throughout the system, forcing ships to exit hyperspace at the edge of the system where gravitational fields were weaker. The Shak’Shii fighters were able to get a little closer, but it was still far enough away for detection and interception before reaching their target. Should any of the fighters and their crews be captured it would mean disaster. A war the Soliace Regime was not prepared for.

That was another reason for the combat drills. Pallahn feared to some degree that the fighters would bring back not just data, but also the entire UESF fleet.

To his surprise, and relief, all previous missions to the Isidore System have been successful. Either the UESF was unable to launch counter forces in time, or they never knew the Soliace were there. Pallahn always hoped for the latter. The amount of information that has been acquired he imagined was invaluable. He never saw the reports; however, every bit of data went directly to the Zeren liaison on board his flagship.

It was this liaison that demanded the information and it was the Soliace government that allowed him to collect it from the comfort of the Endi’Ka’Tor. An arrangement the captain highly detested.

The liaison, known only as Zeftka xuraffe, appeared rather coincidently with the shipment of the fighters. To the captain, it was clear he was more than a liaison. Zeftka, in the Zeren language was a title similar to that of a fleet admiral if not higher, and xuraffe was not a Zeren first or last name, but an adjective meaning ‘the great’ or ‘most benevolent’ often associated with their pantheon of gods. Pallahn wasn’t sure if the Zeftka knew of his knowledge of the Zeren language; nor did he care; he did not give credit to those who create their own title before they show their abilities.

What he did give the Zeftka credit for was his demeanor and appearance. To Pallahn’s surprise, he is not a Zeren. He is not Soliace, Human, Stalfin or any other race he was aware of in the Known Galaxy. The Zeren Empire itself seeps with hatred and xenophobia toward all other races. Yet despite this, the Zeftka was for all intensive purposes the right hand of the Xerehadav, the Zeren emperor.

As much as Pallahn hated it, he had his orders from his own government, to cater to every need of the Zeren liaison in order to secure the secret alliance between the two powers against the UESF. Although he had his suspicions, Captain Pallahn was a dedicated officer and a Soliace of his word. He would follow the orders given to him until he accomplished them, or until his death.

He still hated to wait, even though he would never know what the reports would contain. And he was in no position to demand what information was being collected. He could feel the beads of sweat beginning to form on his pale green, bony forehead, despite the cool temperature on the bridge. Even after being in the military for over seventy-five years, and being one of the most decorated officers in his lifetime, he still sometimes felt as if he were on his first assignment. This mission was no different. Some, like the Zeftka, viewed this as a weakness, but he saw it as one of his greatest strengths.

From his vantage point on a small platform at the front of the bridge, Pallahn could view every station that lined the sides and center of the massive room. The bridge sat high above the body of the ship, and through the thick necellium crystal, separating him from the desolate touch of space; the entire bow of the ship was visible. Its misty green hull glowed against the black, star-filled backdrop of space. Only the observation room, situated above the bridge had a better view of both the bow and aft of the ship. Sadly, the infestation that is the evil of the Zeren liaison has twisted the room, into his personal sanctuary.

Nevertheless, his age and experience has taught him to let such matters roll off his back. The bridge of his ship is where he preferred to be these days.

There was always something calming when he looked out these windows. He stared at the smooth hull and listened to the low rumble of the engines that constantly reverberated through the ship and the quiet hum of the computer stations. This was his moment of peace and relaxation, which was what he needed at a time like this.

In the distance, Pallahn heard an unfamiliar, yet alarming sound from the engineering station. Stepping down from the platform, he walked the main aisle of the bridge and approached one of the last stations where a young Soliace officer hunkered over a translucent data screen. He hovered over the officer’s shoulder as series of graphs, schematics and mathematical equations flashed rapidly; Pallahn could make a few things out from his distance, but not everything.

The young officer, unaware of his captain’s presence, worked diligently on the screen, scrolling though the various charts to find the problem. His high temple ridge and cheekbones were barely visible, unlike the aged captain’s whose course and deep bone patterns cast shadows on almost every point on his wrinkled face. Pallahn remembered when he was that young, he almost envied the young officer.

Is there a problem Ensign Fel’Tora? he asked.

I’m not sure, sir, the ensign said calmly. He was obviously aware of his superior’s presence the entire time. There seems to be a power feedback discharge tracing along the third conduit in Section 5. I can’t seem to narrow down the exact location or cause.

Pallahn crossed his arms. There were four engineering stations located all throughout the cruiser: here on the bridge, one at each of the two engines, and one located at the bow of the ship in the secondary command center. Each station had equal control over the diagnostics of the engine core. Should any one engineering station be totally incapacitated there would be potential for the core to overheat and implode, destroying the entire vessel.

This was the theorized cause for the destruction of the Desanti, the previous command ship of the Soliace Navy. All the crew aboard her was lost except for a few not present at the time of the incident. Tragically, Captain Estari, a once dear friend to Pallahn, commanded his post the entire time.

Confirm this power surge with the other stations; make sure it is nothing more than a sensor malfunction. I do not want this ship incinerated. Pull whatever personnel needed for . . .

Captain Pallahn. A voice called from the rear of the bridge, interrupting the captain and echoing through the bridge.

Take all the personnel you need, Ensign, he finished. His name grew louder as the approaching officer continued to call it out until finally reaching the captain’s position.

Aye sir, Fel’Tora said, turning back to the station and to the data screen, scrolling through the display again. Pallahn stood up straight still ignoring the shout from the oncoming officer until he could hear the footsteps right behind him. He waited for them to stop before turning around to face the Soliace.

The young officer faltered; startled by the scorn look Pallahn held on his distinguished face. His heart pounded from the cold stare of the captain holding his thoughts and words in the back of his throat. Pallahn stood motionless. Those nearest to the two began to take notice of the awkward silence and tried unsuccessfully to hide their interest. Finally, Captain Pallahn broke the silence.

Lieutenant Ti’Kell, as far as I can tell this is the bridge of the Soliace flagship, not the Philaump Market in Shaum’Hii. It is my understanding that officers are not to yell in the general vicinity to grab his superior’s attention. Is that clear? His tone was harsh and demeaning. Deservingly so.

The Soliace military prided itself on proper etiquette in accordance to the Soliace Military Rules and Regulations manual and Ti’Kell had broken several within the past few minutes.

Ti’Kell was one of the few officers that had been under his command since he took command of the Endi’Ka’Tor. He was slightly shorter with dark black hair and brown colored eyes, rare in Soliace genetics. His bone structure was defined and dignified, but his skin was still smooth and had an orange glow to it, not as pale and noble as his own.

Pallahn was always amazed at how Ti’Kell had made it to the rank and status he possessed now. The lieutenant hardly followed proper protocol and, as a result, received much disciplinary actions. Yet, he was still an officer he trusted. His incompetence ensured his obedience. It was Pallahn again who broke the silence, this time with a less condemning tone.

Please report, Lieutenant, I haven’t got all day.

Um. . . yes sir, Ti’Kell sputtered out. Ti’Kell hailed from the Northern Provinces on Liachen, the twin sister planet to Soli; Pallahn could identify his accent easily. He continued, "we just received a transmission that our long-range fighters have checked in with the Kal’Lila’Phi station. They should be here within the hour. They reported no incidents and no indication they were detected."

A feeling of relief tingled through the captain’s body. Another successful mission meant the Zeftka would still be pleased and he would still be in good favor.

Very good, is there anything else?

Yes sir, I am forced to ask why we have been initiating scan raids on UESF territories. If we were discovered, the consequences would be . . .

I am well aware of the consequences, Lieutenant, but for our purposes at this time we must collect any information the Zeren liaison asks for. It is the only way that the Zeren Empire would support us when we move against the Humans. Pallahn said diplomatically.

I do not trust this liaison, sir. We might have our orders, but we are the ones used by him and his government.

Ti’Kell looked around suspiciously. The once observant officers of the surrounding stations focused back on their duties. Pallahn stared hard at the lieutenant. He didn’t trust the liaison either, and he knew Ti’Kell was right in his suspicions, but Captain Pallahn still had his orders. Whether being manipulated or not, it was not his right nor position to question the authority of his own government.

The lieutenant continued, "Is the once proud Soliace Regime now a puppet for the Zeren Empire? Are we now supposed to stand by and watch the beloved Xerehadav waltz into the Capitol and place the blood-drenched flag of the Zeren Empire on our throne? What we are seeing is the fall of the Soliace culture!" His voice rose, attracting the attention of almost the entire bridge crew.

Pallahn stepped closer, almost stepping on the boots of the brash officer. The warmth of his breath glided on the neck of Ti’Kell, sending chills down his spine.

I will not accept this insolence aboard my ship Lieutenant. If you have political problems with the Zeren Empire and its delegates, then I suggest you file a diplomatic grievance. Until then, you are relieved of duty until further notice.

Yes sir. Ti’Kell bowed his head slightly and returned to the lift.

Pallahn watched him leave the bridge. His eyes quickly focused on the set of glass double doors located directly center and at the rear of the bridge. Through the glass and braces, he could see the stairs that led to the observation room. A small shadow appeared from the lighting atop the stairs out of view, becoming larger as a figure emerged slowly down the steps. Pallahn felt his stomach drop and his heart rate increase. The Zeftka has only been on the bridge a few times since his arrival and his presence now could only mean something was afoot. However, it was not the Zeftka; it was Sil’Altera, Pallahn’s new second in command.

Ever since Regent Vertaun, the supreme ruler of the Soliace people and military, decreed that all officers should serve on the Endi’Ka’Tor for a minimum of twenty cycles, Pallahn has never had a steady contingent of senior officers. Commander Sil’Altera was from one of the latest batches brought aboard.

Handpicked by the regent himself, Sil’Altera has almost surpassed every element of his own career and has come from one of the most influential families on Soli. This enraged the captain to no end. Soon Sil’Altera would surpass him altogether and possibly gain command of the Endi’Ka’Tor. It would not be long before he undergoes the Nam’Anoc; the unification of his name; and he becomes Silaltera. This was one of the highest honors of the Soliace people and only given to those in the military who at least reach the rank of captain or were in the upper echelon of the government.

Captain Pallahn watched the young, arrogant officer approach him at a brisk pace. The captain, holding a stern look of disapproval held his stance. There was no reason for the commander to have been with the Zeftka. Perhaps there was more to the commander than he had first realized.

Captain, Sil’Altera started, bowing his head slightly before snapping to attention. "The Zeftka wishes to see you, sir." Pallahn shifted his eyes back and forth between the commander’s crystal blue eyes and the door to the Observation deck.

Where Lieutenant Ti’Kell almost favored the appearance of the Humans, Sil’Altera was from an ensconced line of established Soliace. His bone structure was rigid and pronounced. His skin a soft pale green, even at his young age, he appeared far more experienced than he really was.

"Why were you with the Zeftka xuraffe?" he asked, noting the time on his Earth made watch. The only good import from Earth to Soli he thought. He was still amazed his people had not invented this simple, but useful device.

He wished to see the report from the scanning raid on Isidore, sir.

"How did you receive the results from the mission? I have just now been informed that our fighters have passed the Kal’Lila’Phi station." Pallahn was hesitant to ask, knowing there would be thoughts of his incompetence among his crew for not knowing information before his second in command.

Lieutenant Ti’Kell gave me the encrypted report nearly a standard hour ago, sir, transmitted from the squadron. Sil’Altera was more confused than his superior was. I assumed you were aware of this.

Pallahn took in a deep breath and looked to the lift where Ti’Kell had exited. Obviously Lieutenant Ti’Kell is more insolent than I thought. Have security posted at his quarters and confine him there until further notice.

Captain Pallahn, the long range patrol has entered the system, a nearby officer announced.

Pallahn lowered his head and rubbed his deep temples. Begin docking procedures. You are dismissed, Commander.

Sil’Altera bowed his head before taking off to the security station, located on the port side of the bridge.

Captain Pallahn stood still for a moment staring at the doors and stairs that led to a chamber of a creature whose very nature has been mysterious. He not only instilled fear in the hearts of his enemies, but also his allies. The problem is in that no one, besides the highest members of the Soliace Regime and the Zeren Empire, knew of his existence, meaning there are no enemies to fear him. Nonetheless, the