A Chronicle Volume II

By EAE Gerber and Samuel Fontaine

In the last two years, the group known as the Committee has established itself as a force for good. Led by well-meaning former criminals, the Committee has done their best to help those in need, often in direct opposition to the Galactic Security Forces. Usually one step ahead of the government agents hunting them, of late our Heroes are finding it difficult to evade. Heviss Rotham does not perceive what he is doing as hunting. Rather, he is motivated by a promise to protect the last of his family; his cousin Hoffman, who has found himself entangled with the Committee. How far will Heviss go to find his cousin, when it means working within a system he questions? Meanwhile, secrets and differing opinions threaten to divide the Committee itself. Torn between personal and galactic obligations, our Heroes face threats far less overt than that of the GSF. Posted bounties, hidden enemies, and impending invasions are only the beginning. Sometimes, there is nothing more dangerous than a forgotten dream.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Dec 24, 2020
• ISBN: 9781716299582

Book preview

A Chronicle Volume II

Author: EAE Gerber

Illustrator: Samuel Fontaine

Copyright © 2020 EAE GERBER. All rights reserved.

Published by EAE GERBER

ISBN 9781716299582

Cover Photo: NASA/ESA

Chapter Art: Samuel Fontaine

∼

A Chronicle

Or,

Our Heroes' Attempts to avoid their numerous hunters and, in Defiance of Fate, Save one of their Own,

In Seventeen Parts, this Second VOLUME of which contains Part Three.

Penned in Prose through Second and First Hand Accounts by Dr. Jackson Whittier, a Professor of the Sciences.

∼

Dedication:

To Chris Hasbrouck.

Dramatis PersonÆ

With the Committee

Alice Timron [æl.ɪs tɪmɹʌn]:

Human Female from Knalestar - Five-Year-Old Child

BNA-B2 Ben [bɛn]:

Male Programmed Android from Ra - Seiran War Robot

Christina Dumaresq [kristi:na du:maɹɛsk]:

Human Female from Balint-or - Surgeon, Doctor

Epourts Caz [i:pɔɹts kɑz]:

Lek Male from Lekmaag - Journey Master of the Lek

Frederick Flash Tomson [flæʃ]:

Human Male from Phaarim - Committee Leader

Harriet Timron [hæɹiɛt tɪmɹʌn]:

Human Female from Dromne - Technician

Hoffman Alexander [hɒfmɛn æ.lɨɡ’zeən.dɚ]:

Human Male from Phaarim - Pilot

Hot Arrow [hɒt æɹ.əʊ]:

Asgardian Male from Asgard - Shamed Outcast

Idyx Lyr [aɪdɪks laɪ.ə]:

Cedina’en Male from Cedina’e 2 - Slightly Crazed

James Doc Timron [dɒk]:

Human Male from Nab’akza - Geneticist, Doctor

Kaliah Veresta [kalaɪʌ vɛɹɛstə]:

Lristas Female from Lrista - Committee Leader

Luupin [lu:pɪn]:

Raptor Male from Arkhanks - Expert Tracker

Matthew [mæθju:]:

Human Male from Dromne - Michael’s Brother

Michael [maɪkəl]:

Human Male from Dromne - Committee Leader

Nareli Naf [næɹɛ.li næf]:

Human Female from Phaarim - Tactics and Communications

Snivaselor Snake [sneɪk]:

Raptor Male from Arkhanks - Son of Selazar

Vsnrsy Vees Snnryyv [vi:z]:

Nivervs Male from Vyvd - Captain of the Long Wait

Zacharias Zero Trent [zɪɹ(,)oʊ]:

Human Male from Phaarim - Covert Surveillance

With the Galactic Security Forces

Alst Nekic [ɔlst nɛkɪs]:

Human Male from Arphill - Lieutenant in the GSF

Craten Szip [kɹeɪtɪn zɪp]:

Human Male from Balint-or - Head of Committee Task Force

Dallance IniGrata [dælæns iniɡra:ta]:

Trullian Female from Trul - Doctor in the GSF

Gor A Bwislon [ɡɔɹ ɑ bwɪslɔn]:

Atrpew Male from Atr - GSF Director of Intelligence

Heviss Rotham [hɛvɪs rɑθʌm]:

Human Male from Phaarim - Detective in the GSF

Nrss Nvsrss [ɪnəsɪs ɪnvɪzəsɪs]:

Nivervs Female from Brilist - GSF Commander-in-Chief

Number Ten:

Human Female from Emphana - GSF Spy

Pols’intr’ador [poʊlsɪntɹədɔɹ]:

Luellisan Male from Luellis - Commander in the GSF

Other Affiliations

El-truut [ɛl tɹu:t]:

El-ripteran Male from El - Disgraced War Coordinator

Lanaerell [lɑ:nɛəɹil]:

Pamitchaul Male from Chaul - Bounty Hunter

Mauv [mɔ:v]:

Fole Female from Eviheb - Scout Queen of the Fole Hive Mind

Rochester Rocky Aikman [ɹɒ̑tʃ ɛstə eɪkmʌn]:

Human Male from Phaarim - Adventurer

Snora Ceehrt [snɔɹə si:.əɹt]:

Human Female from Plastiche - Lead Reporter for TNBS

Prologue

Dayl Mo’heet had lived in the city Ohmin his entire life, and did not see any reason why he should want to change that.

The aging owner of the Monarch Pub spent his days and nights cleaning his establishment’s counters of alcohol, bits of food and sick. He poured ale out of taps and liquor out of bottles, kicked out troublemakers and laughed with regulars. Dayl woke up in the morning in his room above the bar, came downstairs and opened the door. Dayl went to bed in the room above his bar, after closing the door for the night.

His routine was easy and enjoyable. He knew that spaceships, like the ones that landed in the docks in his very city, existed. They never held any appeal. You couldn’t go outside, feel the sun on your face, if you were up in space. You couldn’t run a bar and get to know the customers.

On a particular day of the week in the city Ohmin, Dayl was wiping down his counter when a customer he did not recognize walked in and grabbed a seat at the bar. After a cursory glance, Dayl could tell this was an out-of-towner; his skin was far too pale. The sun Xethus shined down on the streets of Ohmin, baking its citizens and browning their skin. This man had just come from a ship. Dayl would take his order and his money, but he saw no reason to be particularly friendly with someone he would likely never see again.

What’ll it be? he asked as he walked over.

Kayle y wizgy bidaph in, the man said, pointing at a bottle behind the counter.

Dayl looked behind him to try to discern which bottle he was pointing to, but couldn’t figure it out. Sighing, he pointed at the loose piece of paper posted up nearby. It read, ‘The proprietor does not have a translator’.

The man glanced at the paper, back to Dayl and smiled, then surprised him, That bottle of Deroval will do nicely.

Frowning, he grabbed the bottle from behind him and asked, Why didn’t you ask in Sallese originally?

Sorry, didn’t see the sign. Guess I assumed most everyone in a spaceport city would have translators. Hell, most people on Phaarim have them regardless.

Dayl did not intend to carry a very long conversation with the man, but looked past his own brown, aging reflection in the mirror behind the bar to the alien, That where you from?

The man nodded as Dayl turned around and slid him the glass of whiskey. Receiving it, the man glanced at it before saying, Do you think I could have it on the rocks?

What? Dayl asked, confused.

Sorry, it’s an expression in Xhaasti-pri. Ice?

He reached under the counter to the freezer that ran the length of the bar and grabbed a couple cubes, then plopped them in the drink.

Thanks.

Don’t mention it, he moved off down the bar, away from the alien. Bizarre, he thought to himself as he pushed up his beige sleeves and started washing glasses, that an alien would know Sallese. Most Ohminites, most people on the planet even, did not stray into space. They either could not afford it or, like Dayl, were disinclined to try it.

He didn’t think about it too much.

The info-feed on the wall to the rear of the pub was playing some local channel. Dayl didn’t recognize the show; he didn’t have a lot of time to watch the things while he was working. Occasionally he would catch the local news before going to bed, and once in a green Xetho he’d watch the galactic news. Normally the things that went on out there didn’t concern him, but if the GSF was going to come to the moon Saldem for some reason, he would like to be prepared.

Regular patrons who kept up with those things more than he did had told him stories. Stories about how the Galactic Security Force would come to planets or moons and completely uproot the economy around spaceports to fit their liking. The Monarch Pub made out pretty well from the aliens and such who would land nearby, but Dayl was ready to pull out of Ohmin entirely if he felt threatened by the GSF. Luckily, the only experience Dayl had with those folks was through the info-feed; as far as he knew they had never come to the moon Saldem, or the city Ohmin.

He looked up from his pensive cleaning of glasses when his door opened again, this time emitting a regular customer. Nayt Schanse was nearly as old as Dayl but twice as high-keyed. The man ran forward to the bar, his wizened old face alight and his greying hair sticking out at odd angles.

Nayt, he greeted the longtime consumer, What’s all the...

The GSF, Dayl! the man said breathlessly, The GSF have landed in one of the docks, and they have a fleet in orbit.

Dayl’s heart fell to his stomach, What? Why?

The other man shivered in excitement, The Committee is here, too. GSF apparently tracked ’em here or something.

The who? he had never heard anything about a committee.

The Committee, Dayl! They’ve been all over the news the last few years. GSF’s been hunting them.

Not my news, Dayl grumbled, If they catch this committee, will they leave?

Nayt could not stand still, Probably. I’m going into town, towards the docks. Gotta see what’s happening!

Dayl let him go, running out the door. The man down the bar, the alien, had heard part of their brief conversation and cleared his throat, What’d he say?

Something about a committee, Dayl waved the dishrag he was using to clean his glasses, going back to his work, GSF will take care of it.

And hopefully go away, he continued the thought to himself, ignoring any response the alien might have had as he focused on his cleaning. Dayl did not want to bother with thinking about the GSF or committees. Those things did not concern him.

Those things, the galaxy could worry about itself.

Chapter 1

File II: Sacrifice

Case I: Two Years Later

"This is Snora Ceehrt for TNBS Report, on this Galactic Standard Day 472.74 broadcast to your info-feed. Headline news today, nearly five months after the destruction of the GSF convoy delivering the assassin responsible for the death of late Fleet Admiral Rnlsy. The assassin had been handed over to GSF authorities at an unknown location by members of the vigilante group the Committee, who had captured and offered her up as proof that they were not the ones responsible for the Fleet Admiral’s death. Today at a press conference, the Commander-in-Chief, along with Intelligence Director Bwislon and Committee Taskforce lead General Craten Szip, announced that the investigation into the attack and disappearance of the suspect leaves evidence that points to the Committee themselves as the ones who attacked the convoy.

In response, the Commander-in-Chief has authorized General Szip to take command of the GSF’s 12th Division Fleet, with the flagship Mitigator. The fleet and its assets are at General Szip’s command to hunt down the terrorist threat the Committee represents to the galaxy. After this announcement at the conference, Director Bwislon accepted that many planetary governments and corporations have already asked the Committee for their aid, but urged these same groups to avoid contracting with the organization:"

GSF citizen planets, citizens, by and large, we recognize many of you are facing problems and often your pleas to us for help take time to be addressed. This is a regrettable side effect of our efforts to increase the visibility of our administration and address other concerns of excessive GSF involvement in planetary affairs. We also recognize that when GSF help is wanting, there is the impetus to turn to those who claim they can help you expediently. Yet your troubles will not be solved by jumping into bed with mercenaries, soldiers of fortune and terrorists. For your own safety, we encourage any citizen with knowledge of Committee presence in a system to inform General Szip. His taking over of the 12th Division Fleet is to ensure we can bring these terrorists to justice, and make sure you receive help from the people who are better positioned to help you.

The Commander-in-Chief’s support for General Szip was not as enthusiastic as the Intelligence Director’s, but she still echoed the need for intervention:

It has become increasingly clear to me over the last months that the Committee is turning into something we cannot ignore. My efforts over that time to secure a logical conversation with that group, while initially hopeful, have degraded in effectiveness and leave me with little choice but to grant General Szip jurisdiction over the 12th Division. I still, and will always, hope for a peaceful resolution to this situation, and I urge the Committee to surrender themselves before any innocent GSF citizens become embroiled in the crossfire.

The other members of the Directorate were not available for comment on the new movement against the Committee. This assignment for General Szip, formerly of the Intelligence Department, comes on the heels of Director Bwislon’s announcement that the Department’s operatives have been disappearing until recently. That announcement was part of a string of GSF moves to increase transparency and improve relations with planetary governments throughout the Steel Trap, including diminishing the number of tariffs levied against former antagonistic systems. Last week, Security Director Khtrp remarked his displeasure-

Hoffman Alexander clumsily thumbed the off button on the remote that controlled the info-feed in his room, dropping the device to the carpeted floor once he shut off the noise that had interrupted his dream. He licked his chapped lips, his tongue brushing the bushy blond goatee situated on his chin. Rubbing the long, sturdy bridge of his nose, he almost hit his elbow on the body lying next to him in his bed. The much smaller, thinner body was enveloped in the sheets and blankets; only a shock of straight, bright red hair was visible of Nareli Naf. Hoffman’s tired mind was still, after several months, trying to come to grips with being with her all that time; the longest relationship he had ever endured.

Not endured, enjoyed.

That this relationship had coalesced after he’d signed up with this organization, the Committee-a group of people dedicated to helping people the Galactic Security Forces wouldn’t-was all the stranger to Hoffman. The Committee was often thrown headlong into dangerous situations, sometimes life or death, which involved taking care of things the galactic government would not. That he and Nareli had managed to build, what Hoffman considered at least, a very solid relationship was something still surprising to him.

This was not to say that there hadn’t been a few rough patches in the early going. A little over a month ago, Nareli had offered to start sharing a room, and perhaps Hoffman had read into that a little, much to Nareli’s chagrin. A couple weeks ago, Nareli had declined to go on a mission to root out a gang family that had been terrorizing the nation-state of Yanda on the planet Revalint. Then just recently, she’d bailed yet again on the mission Hoffman was going on, in order to go on a different mission alone with the alien Idyx Lyr; a diminutive, devilish creature. The first thing was not an issue anymore; Hoffman wasn’t going to rush Nareli into anything she wasn’t comfortable with. The second thing, however; he was not sure what her going off alone with Idyx meant, and couldn’t help but feel a little suspicious since she refused to tell him exactly why.

Besides this, Hoffman felt things were going well. He had Nareli, and he had become fast friends with the other Committee members, even his childhood idol, the racing legend Flash Turbo.

He wasn’t bothered that the Galactic Security Forces, the GSF, had decided to try to hunt them down, or that sometimes the danger of being a Committee member meant the danger of an early grave. When he considered everything during quiet moments of reflection, he would always come to the decision that he was better off than he had been before. He was getting adventure, food, a home, even... He supposed that he was starting to think of this group of people he had thrown his lot in with as his family. It had been so long since his mother and father had died, that having a family again was something he hadn’t been sure he could handle. Instead, the Committee had turned out to be exactly what he needed.

With that happy thought, Hoffman nestled himself back into the sheets and blankets, sidled up next to the quiet, softly breathing Nareli, and fell back to sleep.

***

The moon Saldem, orbiting the planet Xetho, was not particularly special, other than its ability to support ninety percent of the life forms that inhabited the various other livable planets of the Steel Trap galaxy. In this respect, it was one of the most special celestial bodies within that galaxy. Among the trillions and trillions of stars and planets that made up the Steel Trap, it was one of the relatively few that achieved the designation of livable. Yet, among those of that designation, Saldem was nondescript. Either unimpressive, low-lying cities or mundane, run-of-the-mill forests covered approximately seventy percent of its surface, the remaining thirty percent covered in water.

In one of these forests on the moon Saldem, not far from the city Ohmin, three figures ran full tilt through the underbrush and foliage, over collapsed trees and under flitting native birds. Hoffman Alexander felt the clinging of sweat to the back of his neck and the tug of briars on his trousers as he moved as fast as he could, following the alien backside of a saurian raptor, named Luupin.

With purple-tinted scales, the creature, standing on powerful hind legs, came up barely to Hoffman’s chest, including the long, flat-ended horns that curved up from the reptile’s skull. Luupin’s muzzle was flattened, but his mouth wide. Nostril slits perched below large, round, reptilian eyes flecked with yellow. The alien skidded to a stop in a small forest clearing, causing Hoffman to follow suit, and resulting in the third member of their party nearly barreling over Hoffman as he tried to halt his momentum.

Hoffman put out a hand to help the smaller man steady himself. Not that Epourts Caz nal Ied-G Nihtreh-Toemos was particularly small, just that Hoffman was rather taller than the average human was and certainly taller than the average Lek. Epourts’ species was known to only two people in the galaxy; himself and Hoffman. The Lek tended, and Epourts was no exception, to have large flat noses, wide gaping mouths, and ears twice the size of a human. Their hands were made up of practically useless, misshapen, asymmetrical lumps, and their feet, Epourts’ covered only by strips of cloth, were devoid of toes. Of all these things, however, nothing made Epourts more alien than the visor he wore over his eyes. Made of some kind of metal, a thin bar stretched from ear to ear, keeping the pure electric blue orbs behind them covered. Epourts’ home planet was bathed in electricity, and only this visor allowed him to see outside of those conditions. Yet it did much more than that. The visor flooded his vision with schematics, chemical compositions, adrenal output, electrical signatures; not just of himself, but of all living beings and mechanical objects anywhere near his position.

He wiped the sweaty blond bangs, a slightly darker shade than the hair on Hoffman’s head, to one side of his large forehead as he bent over, raspy breathing betraying his exhaustion. Epourts made a short motion with his lump of a hand in thanks for Hoffman catching him.

Hoffman nodded shortly in his direction, blinking the sweat out of his own light, baby blue eyes, You alright?

Nodding, Epourts spoke, the way his voice translated into the language Hoffman could understand like crushed gravel tumbling from his maw, Why’d we stop?

Luupin, the non-humanoid, sniffed the air with his muzzle and waved a short claw in their direction. They waited, the panting of their breath slowly subsiding, as the raptor took a circuitous route about the clearing, his nose still pointed towards the tops of the trees. Eventually, the sentient reptile stopped and opened its mouth, razor-sharp teeth becoming visible, and spit and thrashed incoherent noises at them.

Incoherent to Hoffman, at least.

He says, Epourts explained, able to comprehend Luupin’s tongue, That he can’t smell which direction they’re following us from anymore. If we keep running, we might run back into them.

Hoffman put a hand to his chest to feel his heart, glad he could give it a rest, But we were ahead of them. Can’t we just keep running in the same direction?

Luupin answered for himself, guttural hisses and snarls made sound vicious what was most likely a friendly explanation. Epourts translated, Luupin hasn’t exactly been leading us in a straight line.

The translators that most beings venturing out into the galaxy received at little cost were supposed to convert the noises any other species made into the language each individual was capable of understanding. Hoffman’s translator, indeed the translator of everyone they had ever encountered with Luupin, failed when it came to his particular voice. This was explained by the other Arkhankian (the raptors hailed from the planet Arkhanks) member of the Committee, Luupin’s partner Snivaselor, as a result of a specific trait of Luupin’s dialect. How Epourts was capable of understanding Luupin, however, was still a complete mystery to the rest of the Committee.

They were content enough to leave it at that and were simply glad they had more than one interpreter for the purple alien.

Well, if we can rest for a little while, I’m going to make sure my legs don’t give out, Hoffman said as he threw himself down on a sizable rock perched near the edge of the clearing.

Epourts carefully leant himself on a nearby tree, as Luupin kept patrolling the exterior of the clearing, his nose still up and his tongue occasionally flicking out to taste the air. Epourts pushed at the collar of his inherited GSF uniform with a lumpy hand and shook his head, What a mess. Why did we volunteer to draw the troops off the others again?

Hoffman took a deep breath, swatting away a bug flitting near his head and searching for the salt of his sweat, We needed to give Flash and them the time to get Nareli back.

Epourts opened his wide mouth to say something and then closed it after a second. Their experience on the moon Saldem thus far was not one that might have been considered fun. The Committee had sent the three of them, along with four others, to take care of a routine supply transfer to a rebel group fighting the GSF in a nearby system. Unfortunately, it had been a setup. Immediately after exiting the ship and leaving the docking bay they’d parked in, a GSF tank and several GSF officers on hoverbikes, calling for them to surrender, faced them. Before the leader of their group could say anything, the raptor Snivaselor had started shooting at the GSF, causing them to shoot back at the seven Committee members. One of the group, Nareli Naf, had been shot in the leg and collapsed. She was still alive, but before any of the Committee members could recover her, the GSF had grabbed her and thrown her in the tank.

Their leader Frederick Tomson, also known as Flash, had quickly come up with a plan. As a group, they would lead the GSF and the tank out of the city Ohmin where they had landed, and into the forest. Once there, they would split up, one group leading the GSF on a chase, the other circling back to rescue Nareli out of the tank. Hoffman had volunteered to lead the diversion team, and Luupin and Epourts decided to join him. Most members of the group had found it strange that he had not wanted to be part of the rescue group, seeing as Hoffman and Nareli had been an item for two years.

Epourts did not voice this confusion because he understood Hoffman’s reasoning, even if he didn’t necessarily agree with it. The two of them had become good friends over the last couple of years, and Epourts was the only one Hoffman had voiced his concerns over Nareli to. These concerns mostly revolved around the regular missions Nareli participated with apart from the main group, with another Committee member, Idyx Lyr. Nareli had told them at one point that it was simply helping Idyx investigate underworld contacts, information brokering and other mundane tasks. Hoffman was convinced there was something she wasn’t telling him, and it had created something of a feeling of distrust to develop within their relationship. Hoffman had told Epourts this in confidence, a sign of friendship. Epourts knew what friendship was, although there was a time where the concept might have been murky to him.

When the Committee had found Epourts he had been imprisoned on a slave ship, with little to no memory. He had been diagnosed with severe retrograde amnesia, with no real memory of who he was, or how he’d even wound up on the vessel. Over the next several months he’d recovered bits and pieces, triggered by keywords or phrases, or sights, including reading his name on a piece of cloth. Then, on a rescue mission for the Committee, he had heard a specific phrase that had caused a flood of all his memories to come rushing back, overwhelming him and causing him to pass out. After coming to, he could remember everything, every little detail about his home planet and purpose in the galaxy. Due to the nature of that purpose, however, the only person he had told had been his best friend, Hoffman.

He had initially not told anyone, keeping up a pretense of amnesia, but the secret became too great for him to keep bottled up. When Hoffman had unveiled his suspicions about Nareli, Epourts felt he could trust his friend enough to keep his own secret.

All these things they had confided passed unsaid between them as they shared a look during their respite. Luupin may not be capable of being understood by them, but the raptor understood more or less everything said to and around him, and neither of them really wanted to bring the other into their confidence. They liked the alien enough, but they could not be sure Luupin didn’t share everything heard with his bond mate Snivaselor, and Snivaselor had become notorious since they’d met him for not knowing when to keep his mouth shut.

They’ve got to be Szip’s men, Hoffman broke the silence with this musing. Luupin hissed his agreement.

You think he’s in the air?

He’s been chasing us for over a year with that fleet of his, and recently there’ve been more and more close calls. He’s closing in on us, and if we can’t get Nareli out here, we could be in some serious trouble. It only takes capturing one of us for him to lobby for even more ships.

Epourts nodded, And who knows how many of the GSF’s spies he still has under control from when he was in the Intelligence Division. We’ve been careful, but...

He trailed off as he saw Luupin straighten up, like a Myfluridan prairie dog, as his nose or tongue caught something on the wind filtering through the trees into the clearing. Hoffman followed the direction Epourts’ visor was pointing and quietly whispered towards Luupin, What is it?

Luupin snarled something shortly, licked the air one more time, and then let out a loud hiss with an alarmed look in his eyes.

A crunching of leaves from somewhere off in the forest preceded a curse and a voice shouting, presumably into a wireless communication device, Alpha company! Detective, I’ve located the terrorists, mark my location at-

The voice stopped dead, but not by the speaker’s own volition. Epourts had utilized his evolutionary advantage over humans. Hailing from the moon Lekmaag, constantly swathed in light storms and electro-magnetism, Epourts had gained the ability to manipulate electricity surrounding and within him. He was capable of directing variant sizes of electro-magnetic pulses out of his pores, effectively disabling electronics or crippling a human’s nervous system. Focusing in on the area the voice was issuing from, Epourts had thrown up a hand and shot a wave of blue energy through the trees where it had hit the GSF scout trailing them and sent him into convulsions, all without laying an eye on the officer. The three Committee members shared a look.

Hoffman spoke, They’ll be able to mark his communicator location. We need to move, preferably towards a building.

Luupin turned his animal gaze towards Epourts who used the massive amounts of data and information flowing across his vision on the screen inside his visor to point in a direction, Electrical output in that direction.

Luupin nodded his horned head shortly before bounding off, going only slow enough for the humanoids following him to keep pace. It was not long before Hoffman and Epourts were once again staring at the rump of the purple saurian, breath coursing out of them in bursts as they tried to keep up.

Hoffman grunted as he ducked his tall frame under a half-fallen tree, and spared a quick glance at Epourts, thinking about what the GSF scout had shouted into his communicator, Terrorists, huh? Guess there’s no rest for the wicked.

The terrorists must have attacked him; that was all Sergeant Granders could think. He had been standing, trying to move the tank that was stuck in the mud while his superior officer shouted encouragement at him. Then, out of nowhere, a green bolt of energy flew out from the surrounding trees and struck him in the neck. The energy that made up the stun shot must have been amplified or something, because instead of the normal slow falling towards unconsciousness that normally accompanied being stunned he’d almost immediately blacked out. Granders had always been faster at recuperating from stun shots than other GSF officers; they would say eerily so. He did not know why, and the GSF doctors who’d examined him couldn’t figure out where he’d come across this talent, but for some reason, his body managed to counteract the stuns effects quickly. As he woke up now, he was lying on his back by a tree. Blearily flitting his eyes open, he saw above him a fearsome sight. A green reptile, saurian creature. Spikes lined its scaly back, and its mouth sported jagged rows of vicious teeth. It was holding the helmet he had been wearing and examining it. Granders was about to cry out, hoping that one of his fellow GSF officers who had been with him trying to move the tank would hear him, but before he could something startled the creature. The alien dropped his helmet, and the last thing Granders saw was his own reflection in the front visor of the helmet before he once again lost consciousness.

Harriet Timron, a twenty-one-year-old human female born on Dromne to James and Mercy Timron, was the seventh member of the group the Committee had sent to Saldem. Whipping her long, wild, untamed, black hair out of her bright green eyes, she looked to the scaly green raptor with spikes running the length of its back and a long threatening jaw and asked in a slightly husky voice, Well?

The alien slithered its long tongue through its multitude of sharp-edged teeth and responded in a barely understandable voice, I would have preferred going with Luupin and the Ugly One.

I was asking about the tank. Which one’s the ‘Ugly One’? Probably not Hoffman. Epourts?

Jussst ssso. He better underssstandsss usss than mossst of you.

Look at you, having a friend. You shouldn’t call him the ‘Ugly One’ though, that’s not very nice.

We have namesss for all of you. There isss the Ugly One, the Quiet One, the Tall One, the Sssmart One, the Mean One, the Jealousss One, the-

Snake, Harriet snapped at him, aware of how her alien friend could get sidetracked, The tank?

We do not call any of you the Ta- the raptor blinked both lids over its yellow, reptilian eye quickly as he understood. Licking the air one more time, he hissed, We are clossse. I can tassste the metal.

Then how come I can’t hear anything? their other companion, who had been ignoring the conversation until now, asked in a worried voice. The voice belonged to the fair features of another human, Frederick Flash Turbo Tomson, former racing legend turned smuggler. Harriet had heard that the older man, in his early thirties, had been quite the lady-killer back when he was famous for being the fastest pilot in the galaxy. She was sure that moniker had brought quite a bit of confidence, which would have no doubt complimented his looks. Now, however, the man was jumpy, overly nervous all the time because of a terrible racing accident. That accident had not only ended his professional career but had caused the contraction of a disease that resulted in nearly continuous, though slow, bleeding from the pores in his scalp.

To combat the blood loss, Flash, as he preferred to be called, wore a bandage wrapped around his head and through his hair. Coated in medicine that coagulated the blood as it left, it blocked the pores and kept him from losing too much too quickly. At the same time, Flash also required regular transfusions to replenish the lost blood, a costly endeavor that required a skilled doctor.

Luckily, not only had Flash accrued quite a fortune from his racing days that was not taken away when he’d been imprisoned by the GSF for smuggling, but the Committee, of which he was one of the founding members, was more than happy to help keep the paranoid yet friendly icon alive and well.

Harriet herself liked Flash enough. He was a competent group leader, and definitely useful in a firefight; a thing she seemed to be finding herself in more and more often as she went on missions with the Committee. The racer could shoot a pin off of a target at a hundred yards in a motion.

She was not that good with a gun; her skills lay elsewhere. Since she had been little, Harriet had always been pretty good with machinery, engineering, and software. As a sort of amateur technician, she had gone to university on her father’s dime to rein in some of her freelance spirit. Also, her father extolled, to keep her out of prison for hacking or breaking into the wrong places. The college experience had not lasted. Her father’s job had taken him out of contact, and Harriet had taken advantage by dropping out to see some of the galaxy. She hadn’t been able to use her father’s money for that, but she was smart enough to get what she wanted when she wanted it.

Right now, all she wanted was to rescue her friend Nareli Naf and get the hell off this moon. That required the alien they called Snake to use his super sniffer, or licker, or whatever, and point them in the direction of the tank in which Nareli was being held.

That Nareli and she had become friends was no small feat, Harriet often thought to herself. Especially since there had been quite a bit of animosity between them when they had first met. That was essentially chalked up to a difference in upbringing though, and they had quickly found that there were enough things they could talk about and enjoy together to be amiable. Enough so that, even though her father and little sister were part of this Committee, Harriet doubted she’d hang on with these soldiers of fortune who went around helping people, and consequently being shot at, if not for Nareli.

While Snake sniffed around, trying to figure out just in which direction he could taste the metal, Flash looked at her, It probably would’ve been better if we had Epourts. He might have been able to disable the tank.

Harriet shook her head, messy, tangled hair cascading about it, We couldn’t break up him and Hoffman’s bromance. No worries, sir, we can handle the tank.

Flash shook his head, scratching at the bandage covered in flecks of blood, and muttered, Don’t call me sir, please.

Yes, sir.

Flash rolled his eyes at her, then straightened the front of the special green racing uniform he wore. It was the same one he’d worn for years out of a mixture of a paranoid fear of anything else, and of nostalgia for his glory days, I hope they haven’t done anything to Nareli. Hoffman will kill me if anything happens to her.

Hey, she said, She’s Hoffman’s girlfriend, and I don’t see him going after her. We’ll do what the beanpole can’t and rescue his girl, then high-tail it out of here.

Snake hissed at them to stop talking and they looked at him, his tail pointed straight out behind him. He tilted his head sideways to take them both in with his right eye, Thisss way.

The three took off, slowly and carefully making their way through the forest in the hopes of not being heard by the tank and officers they were sneaking up on. As they approached a riverbank, where the trees were scarce, it became apparent that was how the tank had been traveling through the forest. The GSF had been taking advantage of the wide natural path provided by the river. If they had figured that out themselves, it would have made following the tank much easier. As it stood, however, they found the tank had reached a narrow part of the path, where the trees crept too close to the river and had managed to stall out with half of its treads in the mud.

Keeping themselves hidden behind the trees on the opposite side of the bank, the three made out the person who seemed to be in charge of the group of GSF soldiers all trying in vain to push the tank out of the river. They heard the tank driver inside revving the engines. The form they had come to recognize through their close brushes with the GSF as Lieutenant Alst Nekic was standing on the tank, trying to issue words of encouragement to the other officers under his command in their attempts to move the armored vehicle.

Harriet shared a look with Flash and said, How were we even tricked into a trap by these people?

He shrugged, Well, it took them a year to capture one of us for as long as the hour they’ve had Nareli.

They could not make out anything the GSF Lieutenant was shouting, but the entire troupe was focused on the tank’s predicament and no one had looked in their direction yet. Flash tapped Snake on his narrow, scaly shoulder to get his attention, So you know how we feel about unnecessary killing...

Snake hissed his displeasure at the opening, and what it meant.

Since we’re doing the ambushing, we start out with stun shots, he looked pointedly down at Snake’s weapon until the reptile reluctantly flipped the switch that would turn it from shooting red laser energy to the green stun bolts, I don’t want to hear any complaining either. It’s kind of your fault we’re in this.

The GSssF wasss threatening usss, Snake argued, Ssshould I have allowed them to capture all of usss?

Flash made a motion with his hand to cut off the raptor and continued with his plan. We split up around them and pick them off with stuns from the tree line, he pointed at the dark-haired, clean-shaven, enthusiastically military form of Nekic standing on the tank, Take out him first, then the ones trying to push the tank. The driver will probably stay inside and try to locate us and blow us to pieces with it, so once we’ve quickly dispatched the other officers, Snake and I will draw the tank’s attention and Harriet drops in it to disable the driver and grab Nareli.

Snake protested, I do not think having a tank ssshooting at me isss a good idea.

Well, I do. You have the best chance of avoiding being actually hit by a tank, and if it’s focusing on only Harriet or me, we’re as good as dead. I got Nekic, you two start with the others. Everyone good with the plan?

Harriet nodded and Snake hissed his disgruntled acceptance.

Alright, let’s split.

Harriet leapt out of her crouch and ran in the opposite direction as the other two to find the best place to start shooting at the GSF soldiers trying in vain to move the tank. She had just found a decent spot, perched on top a log from a fallen tree and with a decent amount of brush for cover, when a green bolt lanced from the forest further down the river and struck Lieutenant Nekic right in the chest. Flash really did have great aim.

Harriet sighted up her gun and picked a now very confused and frightened GSF officer trying to grab at his own weapon holstered at his hip. Her green stun shot exploded from the barrel of her rifle and hit him in the neck, sending him down into the water he was standing in. She lined up on the next one but saw he was stooping to pull the body of the one she had just shot out from under the river current. She let him do that and then shot him in the right thigh, sending him falling on top of his comrade in the muddy bank of the river.

Flash had moved on, from shooting Nekic on top of the tank, to picking off the other officers, and had downed two himself with stun shots. Snake had fired many more shots than they had, yet had only managed to get the one closest to his firing spot. The raptor was not used to shooting weapons, especially ones not designed with his claws in mind.

There were only three left, and it took Harriet four shots to finally get one and by then Flash had expertly picked off the last two. It had taken barely more than a minute and there were no casualties.

Yet.

Harriet barely registered that the tank, the driver inside searching for the source of the attack during its course, had finally honed in on one of their locations. Hers.

She bit back a curse as she leapt off the log and barely managed to slide down a small incline and into a bush before the fallen tree she had been lying on exploded into splinters. Turning to look back at the river, she saw Snake spring from his hiding place and start firing wildly at the tank screeching incoherent Arkhankian insults, while Flash started moving up and down within the tree line doing the same. The tank, assuming it must have gotten her, moved on to the threats still attacking it.

Harriet moved quickly, throwing her rifle over her shoulder and vaulting over the busted log she had been using. She threw her hands up to protect her face from the brush and briars at the edge of the tree line she burst through and then continued her sprint towards the tank.

The river was shallow enough that she was able to quickly wade across and grab hold of the railing above the tread stuck in the mud on the other side. She hauled herself up and tried to tune out the loud firing sounds. The tank continued its futile effort to pin the elusive Snake as the raptor used his great agility to run up, and jump out of trees just within the tank’s view, all the while keeping the trigger on his gun depressed.

With a grunt of effort, Harriet tugged the hatch on top of the tank up and nimbly dropped herself into the interior. It was cramped, but there was enough room that before the driver could turn around and confront the interior assault to his tank, she had swung her rifle off her shoulder and rammed the butt into the face of the helmet the GSF officer was wearing. With a thud, the head rebounded off her forceful hit and crashed into the steering column of the tank, and he slumped, unconscious.

Harriet turned around and saw, tied up just behind the tank cockpit, a stick-thin, pasty white, ginger-haired girl staring up at her with large brown eyes. Dark shadows from the light entering the top hatch of the tank cast odd shapes on her freckled face. The girl had a piece of cloth stuffed in her mouth through which she mumbled something. Harriet smiled at her, Nar, you know you’re not supposed to talk with your mouth full.

She reached down and yanked the gag out of her friend’s mouth. The girl’s slightly whiny voice, which Harriet used to be not able to stand, greeted her, Boy am I glad to see you.

The feeling’s mutual. Let’s get you out of here.

Why are you wet?

I forded a river for you. Aren’t I great?

As she helped untie Nareli and lift her up, the other girl clutched at her leg and grunted in pain. Harriet paused with her hand on the other’s shoulder, Do you want me to look at it?

Nareli shook her head staring at the ceiling of the tank, It’s stupid. Just a graze.

Grazes can still hurt.

I’ll be alright.

She let Nareli grab hold of the ledge of the hatch and helped push the very light girl up through it and out into the Saldem air. Following, Harriet easily hoisted herself up through the hatch and propped herself on top of the tank as she, along with Nareli, watched Flash and Snake carefully pile the unconscious GSF bodies up closer to the tree line. When he saw them, Flash called out, Hey, did you happen to see if you could drive the tank?

Harriet shook her head, Why don’t you check it out? I’m going to take a look at Nar’s leg. Unless you fancy to.

Flash paused awkwardly while propping a GSF officer on his side, then shook his head and walked towards the tank, Get off of there then. Snake, come get the driver’s body.

The raptor had been investigating one of the GSF helmets closely and dropped it suddenly when he was addressed; as if afraid he wasn’t supposed to be looking at it, then hastened to follow Flash up onto the tank. While they went up, Harriet helped Nareli down and let her sit down in the drier dirt higher up on the river bank, then started rolling up her pants leg. Nareli glanced around.

I guess the others are doing something else?

Harriet hesitated only slightly as she rolled the pants leg above the spot of the laser burn on her friend’s leg, knowing what the other was really asking, He’s drawing the rest of them off us. We’ll meet up at the ship, don’t worry.

Did Flash decide that?

Harriet softly touched the laser burn and saw Nareli flinch in pain before answering, He came up with the plan, yeah.

Nareli took in the unstated implications about Hoffman and why he hadn’t come after her with a grim little nod. Harriet reached into one of the pockets of her vest and pulled out a small tube of emergency burn relief she carried with her for just these sorts of injuries, and tried to dance delicately around the subject of Nareli’s boyfriend, You still haven’t told him?

No, Nareli answered, glancing behind Harriet. There was a soft flump of noise, and Harriet turned to see Snake scrambling on his claws down from the tank after having thrown the body of the driver down into the mud below the tank. Once he was down, he hefted the GSF officer onto his shoulders and started walking in their direction.

Nareli winced as Harriet applied some of the ointment, Sorry.

Don’t worry about it, Nareli said as Snake trotted closer. She fixed her eyes on Harriet, He knows I’m not telling him something. He doesn’t trust me.

Well, that’s his fault now, isn’t it? You can’t go around telling everybody what you’re doing with Idyx.

Nareli glanced up at Snake, and the raptor fixed them both with a not quite suspicious stare as it marched past to deposit the driver with the other unconscious GSF officers, then once he was past turned back to Harriet, I told you.

Well, I’m your best friend now aren’t I? Harriet finished dabbing the ointment onto the burn and closed the tube with a sigh of success, then turned her own green eyes to Nareli, Have you ever tried talking about it at all?

Not really.

I mean, like, making him understand why you can’t tell him. You know, talking it out.

Snake’s claws making odd squelching sounds in the mud and dirt of the riverbank heralded his return to where they were crouched and lying in the dirt as Nareli said, Haven’t really tried talking it out, no.

Harriet paused for a second, trying to discern just what Nareli meant by that. She raised her eyebrows at her friend, encouraging her to elaborate, but the other just glanced up meaningfully at Snake. Harriet herself turned to regard the reptile for a second, who was simply taking advantage of his higher position to stare down at them curiously, then returned her gaze to Nareli, Oh come on, it’s just us girls.

I am not a female, Snake hissed.

Whatever you say Snake, Harriet grinned at Nareli, You’ve tried to fix it by not talking?

Nareli seemed to shift her seat in the dirt uncomfortably, all but confirming Harriet’s assumptions. Snake seemed perturbed that he could not understand what was being passed unsaid between the two humans, and flit his tongue out in a little slither, but didn’t say anything. Nareli did not seem like she really wanted to talk about it, but Harriet persisted, All the details. Now.

I don’t really-

We’re girlfriends, right? This is what girlfriends talk about. I have that on good authority; I went to college, you know. When did it happen?

I am confusssed, Snake hissed.

Nareli ignored him and tried to placate Harriet without giving anything away to Snake, Couple weeks ago. It was really awkward, and it really didn’t seem to solve anything.

You’ve been together two years Nar; you can’t tell me it was the first time.

Her friend seemed to reach a new level of embarrassment, her freckled cheeks flushing bright red as she averted her eyes. Snake was having enough of the secrecy and started to demand, What isss-

Sex, Harriet said bluntly, We’re talking about sex.

Snake straightened and moved his head as far back as his long scaly neck would allow, taking in the translation of Harriet’s statement. Snake slithered meekly, Thisss isss awkward...

Shut up Snake, Harriet looked at Nareli with a conspiratorial grin, Come on Nar, fess up.

Still squirming uncomfortably, Nareli asked, I thought you didn’t like talking about feelings?

Since when does sex have anything to do with feelings? Details, now.

Nareli, blissfully, didn’t get the chance as Flash popped his head out from the inside of the tank and shouted at them, Yep, I can drive it. Let’s go pick up the boys and get as far away from Szip as possible.

Snake nearly ran towards the tank to get away from the girls’ conversation. Harriet stood, brushing off dirt from her knees, and offered a hand to Nareli to help her up, This discussion isn’t over.

Nareli’s normally pale white face was nearly the color of her hair as the two made their way back to the tank.

The forest outside the city Ohmin did not hold only Committee members.

The muggy humidity of the