A Chronicle Volume I

By EAE Gerber and Samuel Fontaine

As Volume I begins, Kaliah Veresta is the sole relative of the most powerful man in the galaxy, for all the good it does her. Working a desk job at a prison in the middle of nowhere, even that placement is a result of nepotism. Her past has helped keep Kaliah there, out of the way, but when the galaxy threatens to unravel, she’s called upon for help.

A disgraced Captain has raised an army and demanded independence for his sector. Kaliah’s job? Control a select group of convicted felons as they protect the Commander-in-Chief, her uncle, on a diplomatic mission to meet with the rebels. A not-at-all straightforward task complicated further by her wards; a former celebrity, an alien serial killer, a madman, and her ex.

As disparate personalities try to find common ground, the mission turns anything but diplomatic. When calamity strikes and they find themselves scattered in dire straits, our heroes must come together to stop a plan involving vengeance of astronomical proportions.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Aug 10, 2020
• ISBN: 9781716664052

Book preview

Prologue

Tatiana DeRoth sat picking her nails, tuning out the background noise from the info-feed in the lobby. One of the orderlies had turned it to a sports channel earlier and she hadn’t bothered to change it. Tatiana was not interested in sports.

There was a whole galaxy out there, of marvelous and fascinating things; all of which made sports seem quite trivial. There were, she pondered as she held up a speck she’d carved from her finger to her long nose, pulsars and quasars, black holes and wormholes, nebulae, asteroids and comets. Planets with purple trees and trees the size of some planets. There were suns that became diamonds, and moons made of dust. Tatiana DeRoth knew all of this.

She had never seen it.

Working as a receptionist in an asylum was hardly the type of job that promoted travel. Apart from her home planet not far away, this one, the one people called CaitarMai, was all she’d experienced.

It wasn’t awful as planets go, and the native species were interesting. Plus, and Tatiana reminded herself of this every day, most people living in the galaxy didn’t get the chance to see one other planet, much less all those things she’d been thinking of earlier. Space travel was an expensive endeavor for the regular folk; reserved mainly for politicians, criminals, or Galactic Security people.

Tatiana snorted to herself at the thought that there was quite a bit of overlap between those three. She closed one bright hazel eye to focus on her left pinky, making sure it was clear of detritus.

The sound of a crashing noise abruptly interrupted her inspection and brought her straight up in her chair to look around the lobby of the CaitarMai Correctional Facility. No one was present, but the crash had come from the front door, where one of the orderlies had tried and failed to make an entrance.

She watched through the glass as Jerome, one of the only other humans working in the building, shifted the large box he was holding from one arm to another to have a better chance at opening the door. She quickly glanced at the computer screen in front of her to catch her reflection, brushing strands of pink-dyed bangs out of her eyes. When she was done, Jerome had finally managed to crack the door open and slide through, nearly dropping his cargo in the process.

He strode up, an embarrassed smile played out on his dark features, and planted the box on the counter in front of her.

In lieu of a greeting, she stood up and leant in to scrutinize the box’s contents. Reaching in and pulling out, from a litany of objects, a small, twisted wire, she asked, What’s this?

Scratching at his neck with one hand, Jerome jerked his other thumb at the door, They pulled that off him while they were loading him onto the ship. Had it hidden in his hair.

She put a hand on her hip and stuck it out, twirling the wire in her other hand, Not this specifically, she blinked down at the box, The whole thing.

Jerome shrugged, They’re his belongings. I took it out there to see if he wanted them, but the soldiers wouldn’t let him take it. Except for the chess set; the Captain agreed to play a game on the way.

That’s nice of the Captain at least, she easily flipped the wire back in the box, then studied the rest of the objects. She saw a bunch of candy wrappers, several metal objects she didn’t recognize, and an old paper-form book. She picked that up, I haven’t seen one of these in years!

He loved that thing, Jerome said a little sadly, Never asked where he got it.

While Tatiana slid her hand along the rough spine of the book, she gave her friend a quirky smile, I never understood why you liked that one so much. He’s as crazy as the rest of them in here.

Jerome glanced around the empty lobby, his eyes flicking briefly to the game or whatever was playing on the sports channel, before shrugging, He had a good sense of humor. I feel bad that he couldn’t take his stuff.

She placed the book carefully back into the box, He’ll be back for them, won’t he?

He shook his head, I don’t know Tatiana, when the government comes to take you away, I don’t think you have a habit of coming back.

Tatiana DeRoth sighed and thought about that. He was probably right. Being institutionalized these days was almost a death sentence, but drawn out over years of heavy medication and psychological tests. If the Galactic Security Forces saw fit to take someone out of the institution, well...

Such was the state of the galaxy they all lived in.

Book I - Part I: Brief, Mission

Chapter One: Escape

The chessboard shook slightly as turbulence, caused by the transport vessel’s aging, decade-old engine, vibrated the upturned crate it rested on. A shackled, four-fingered hand gently pushed a black bishop that had crept just a bit away from its white square back into place. The black pieces far outnumbered the white; only a pawn, bishop and the king remained of that ilk, and none were in a position to make a move against any black piece at the moment.

The player in control of the white side of the board sat back, antennae twitching in an attempt to distract his opponent. The eight-foot-tall insect, a member of the species Nivervs, clicked its mandibles impatiently and fixed its six eyes on the slightly less alien creature sitting across from him. It opened its small mouth to spit out alien sounds that moved through the air and reached the other as intelligible words.

At the rate we are playing, my larvae will have had larvae of their own.

Its opponent smiled wanly, displaying one overgrown canine that slipped over his bottom lip, For one thing my dear Captain, he spoke to the insect with a slight drawl, This is the longest I have been removed from my straightjacket in well over a year, and it ill behooves me to hurry to don it again.

The insect clicked some more.

For another, I was quite sick as a child and had many opportunities to play. I developed quite an affinity and respect for the game; be sure, chess is a delicate game, his alien, four-fingered hand moved a rook up four squares, the shackles around his wrists knocking over a nearby knight, Check.

The insect leant forward. The giant creature scratched at its thorax, the hard shell covering its throat, with one of the six long, hairy appendages called tarsi sprouting from its torso. As his opponent restored the knight, he clicked, That was foolish and unnecessary. You could have ended the game with your knight.

The insect took the rook with its sole pawn, glancing at the six horns crowning the opponent’s head, wondering if they somehow affected the creature’s thought processes.

Yet you forfeited your rook and made the game take longer still. I doubt I will ever understand you, Mr. Lyr.

Mr. Lyr? Please, call me Idyx, Idyx Lyr scratched one of the pointed ears sticking out of his straight black hair with his tail, and examined the board, In my humble opinion, Captain, the longer you can keep the game running, the more satisfying the ending becomes. Check.

The Captain brushed a speck of dust off the pale blue leather uniform it wore and studied the board. Idyx had moved a pawn out of the path of the Captain’s bishop, leaving the king open to attack.

You’re giving up? he clicked as his thorax thrummed and antennae bent in confusion, But you had the game won.

Idyx’s long, hairless tail whipped back and forth slowly and contently, To the contrary, I am not giving up. I am giving you the chance to win.

The Captain took Idyx’s king and placed its bishop on the king’s vacated spot to signal an end to the game, I don’t understand.

Idyx jerked his head to the side suddenly before sighing, Nor would I expect you to. It takes a great deal of faith to trust someone enough to make the right decision when you give them the chance. You’d be surprised how many beings would avoid taking the king out of some misguided sense of pride and self-righteousness.

That is ridiculous, the other alien took the unexpected head motion in stride, No one lets someone else win.

Idyx smiled, Well then, perhaps I’m simply quitting while I’m ahead.

The Captain thrummed a little more, attempting to parse through the words, before getting up, Well then Mr. Lyr. Back into the straightjacket you go.

Idyx’s tail went haywire as if in protest. It seemed to be attempting everything it could to detach itself from his body, but the devilish man smiled all the same, Of course. Safety always comes first in a dangerous prisoner transfer.

Idyx waited patiently as the Captain called another uniformed insect into the transport ship’s brink and the two aliens went about re-affixing his straightjacket.

I don’t suppose you could leave it just a little bit loose? It’s my tail you see...

The Captain’s antennae swept back and forth, Apologies Mr. Lyr. I’m afraid we can’t risk you escaping before the transfer point is reached.

I certainly wouldn’t want to do that, Idyx sighed as his tail was jammed up against the small of his back with the tightening of the jacket. The Captain turned to fix his three right eyes on Idyx.

Tell you what. When we reach the planet, I’ll take off the jacket and we’ll fit you with some manacles again. You just have to promise to keep that tail of yours under control. Is that alright?

Idyx smiled ecstatically, Is that alright? Do frogs quack?

The Captain clicked in confusion, Shall I assume the answer is yes?

This bar on Yarna IV is like most dives in the outer reaches of the galaxy known affectionately as the Steel Trap. Full to the brim with outcasts and criminals, the place is a haven for altercations and shady dealings. Even the Galactic Security Officer sitting by the door, trying to enjoy his drink, is probably on the books with someone in here. The combination of Yarna being a prison planet with only a small spaceport, and the only place in the sector to fill up on fuel, makes hiding here either the dumbest or most brilliant thing to do for a convicted murderer. I prefer to think of myself as brilliant.

Luckily, or unluckily, I’m a Trug. This means that mugs looking for a fight tend to leave me alone, but it doesn’t necessarily mean I can enjoy my drink in peace. My species is large, normally with four lumbering arms and a taste for blood. We also have a reputation in the underworld for paying well for the company of a young female, regardless of species, which has caused this toothpick of a Sngolian to interrupt my inspection of this alcoholic beverage. I haven’t acknowledged her yet, and you think she could take a hint. Instead, she’s babbling on about the need for a strong man. Apparently thinks I have some money to spare.

I look up from my drink for the first time since she sat down next to me and explain to her, politely, that she’s wasting her time.

She looks taken aback at my tone, then leaves in disgust. I don’t blame her. It took me long enough to tell her to go. Since I broke out of the prison complex a couple kilometers from here, I’ve been hunkering down in the space above this joint. In retrospect, it’s probably not too smart to stay in one place too long, especially when you’re a Trug with an arm missing, escaping from serving a life sentence due to the thirty-seven murders you committed. I tense for a moment as the GSF officer who’d been sitting by the door, a large bug creature, comes hurrying in my direction; but he just shuffles past behind me towards the back of the place.

As I shift my buttocks on the bar stool, I grin into my drink with relief. Then, faintly, I hear a soft patter of dainty footsteps behind me. Another female; probably looking to make some easy dope. This time I’ll be sure not to wait too long before...

I notice the shadow on the counter in front of me, the reason I always sit with my back to a light source; at the bar instead of a booth. I see the right arm lift up, a little longer than it should be.

Instincts kick in. I’m big, but not slow. I get up and swivel to the left, just as the knife comes down.

Her momentum takes her forward and down. My top right-hand grabs her bicep, my bottom right the wrist, and my left elbow connects with a bloody, nose shattering, hit to the face. She’s a professional, and my blow doesn’t have the effect of knocking the knife out of her hand. She grips it harder and tries to twist; my strength stops her. I bend her arm and wrist back, then knock her feet out from under her with a kick from my right leg.

She falls on her own knife, blood explodes from her chest, and she lets out a faint gurgle as she slips from the counter to the stool, to the floor; a trail of blood following her.

If she had dropped the knife, she’d still be alive, and I might have been able to get some answers from her.

As things stand she won’t be doing much talking.

I flip the bartender my last pouch of cash; it’s not safe for me here anymore. The assassin was a professional, hired for what I assume to be a fair amount. As I exit the dive and make my way down the street, I run through a list of people with the kind of money to hire her who might want me dead.

It’s not the GSF; they’d have just tried to put me back in prison. Since they took over the galaxy in a military coup a little under five hundred years ago they’ve tried to run the galaxy like a legitimate government, but they’re still just a police force at heart. Although, they don’t completely control the prisons yet.

I’ve narrowed it down to two candidates by the time I reach the docks of the spaceport town. Part of the reason I’ve been stuck here has been because I don’t have a ship, and all prisoners arrive and depart from the spaceport, meaning a plethora of guards are here at any one time. It has only been a couple months or so since I escaped, and they’d still be on the lookout for me. I’d been doing some light reconnaissance over the last two months, and I know something of the schedule. There’s a transport, landing in a few minutes, that normally unloads half a dozen prisoners. They usually have an extra guard on duty, but I slipped a little something in the GSF officer’s drink as I entered the bar earlier, and since he was too busy in the waste disposal unit to see my tussle with the assassin, by the time he gets out he’ll have that lovely body to ponder over before returning to his post at the spaceport.

The plan formulates in my head as I watch the skies for the transport’s approach. I spot it off to the south-west, coasting in nice and slowly. I could probably get on board and take off without incapacitating a single guard if I play it right, and get lucky. The two guards on duty exit with the prisoners and, noticing there’s no one to meet them, call out the pilot to keep watch as one of them calls the atmospheric plane to take the prisoners the rest of the way to the prison facility. I steal onto the transport and make off to the nearest star port to jump ship and start over.

The GSF markings are unmistakable as I predict which docking bay the transport will land in and make my way discreetly towards it. The model isn’t terribly familiar but the engine sounds stressed, a little older. I’ve been in the slammer for over a decade and I can’t be expected to have my mind at its A-game, but the shuttlecraft is definitely GSF and from the looks of it, trying not to tax out the engines. If I’m really lucky they won’t even shut the engines off while they cart the prisoners out. These older ships can take a while to-

Something is wrong. I can see a cab with GSF markings pulling up from my hiding space near the doorway of the bay. A pretty girl, with pale blue skin that almost blends into her uniform, steps out of the cab followed by two of the insect Nivervs security guards. She motions to where the guard on duty should be and demands something of the two henchmen, who wave their antennae about curiously. She visibly sighs and walks toward where I’m hiding.

I wish I had a ray gun, and I prepare to spring, but she walks right past me, her security detail shuffling behind her. She didn’t see me. I creep closer to the door to peek in. Since this is my only chance to escape, my plan is going to require some quick improvising.

Kaliah ran a hand through her long yellow hair and wondered at what she was doing here.

That wasn’t entirely true. She knew what she was doing; she just had no clue why she was doing it. Her position as director of prisoner transfer rarely, if ever, saw her taking on this sort of responsibility. Personally dealing with the operations was not something listed in the job description of her contract.

She glanced scornfully at the two Nivervs security guards the GSF had sent with her as if it was their fault she had been assigned to this task. It wasn’t that she didn’t feel confident; that had never been a problem for her. It was only that this time, the lack of information she was working with made it a little more difficult to feel confident.

The small vehicle they were riding in rumbled down the ill-kept streets of the Yarna IV spaceport. A prisoner transfer was so simple that even a Corporal could have executed it correctly. However, the higher-ups in the GSF, for some reason, did not want to trust the mission to such a low rank.

There is no need for excessive anticipation, one of the guards clicked out, grossly misinterpreting her silence, Rest assured we are fully capable of ensuring your protection, Lieutenant.

Kaliah gave an indignant snort, I bet.

The cab came to a stop outside a low-walled docking bay. Kaliah inched her way out of the backseat and finally was able to stretch her legs after being crammed between the two large insects. She glanced around.

Isn’t there supposed to be a guard on duty? she asked one of her own guards.

The Nivervs shifted nervously, Perhaps they’re inside? It is a little warm.

Kaliah rolled her eyes and ignored the comment, then started leading the guards with her into the bay. She stared straight ahead and didn’t break her stride as she got to the entrance, and arrived in the bay just as the aging transport ship’s ramp began to descend.

Idyx glanced about as he was led down the ramp by the Captain and his guard into the docking bay, careful not to let his tail swing around too freely now that it was finally loose. He knew his companions had their tarsi near their guns. The gravity on the planet was a little heavier than usual, causing Idyx to labor down the flat metal surface. It did not, however, prevent him from seeing the three figures standing at the foot of the ramp.

You’ve even prepared a little welcoming committee for me. How grand! he examined the GSF Lieutenant waiting below him and raised a thin black eyebrow, She’s cute too.

The light blue woman in the sky blue uniform with a shock of yellow hair flowing past her shoulders stepped forward. She was beautiful, her narrow nose slightly upturned, mesmerizing orange eyes on a slender face. Idyx almost didn’t notice her hand as she reached out in greeting.

Welcome to Yarna IV, Mr. Lyr, I hope you’ll enjoy your short stay. I just have a couple details to go over with you before we head out to our final destination.

Idyx noticed the hand with a start, then glared at it suspiciously, as if it might be holding something dangerous.

My name is Lieutenant Kaliah Veresta, director of prisoner transfer for the SOR sectors in this quadrant, and supervising director of the correctional facilities at Yarna IV and Trevass.

Idyx glanced up at the Captain to his right, who motioned with his antennae, It’s alright. Shake the Lieutenant’s hand.

He hesitated, unsure when he caught a blip of motion out of the corner of his eye and heard a noise behind him. No one else seemed to notice, so he decided to act. He reached out to grasp her hand, smiling, My dear Lieutenant...

In a swift, fluid, motion he pulled the gun out of the Captain’s holster with his tail and pinned the Lieutenant against his body by looping his shackled hands around her. He held the gun to her head, with his tail wrapped around the trigger. Before the other three guards could draw, he turned around to emphasize the gun’s place at Lieutenant Veresta’s temple by tapping it against her head.

I’m terribly sorry to have abused your trust this way Captain, he said genuinely, But for one, I won’t be having any experiments done on me; and for another-

Experiments? Kaliah Veresta said frantically, What in the Trap are you talking about? We never-

The gun dug a little harder into her skull, You’ll be quiet now. For another, I believe I’ve worn out my welcome.

The Captain held out his tarsus, his and the other Nivervs antennas were spinning wildly, Look Mr. Lyr. You’re not going anywhere. There’s still a pilot on board and you would need a code to raise the ramp.

The ramp began to close behind them.

And thirdly, Idyx declared as he backed onto the ramp with Kaliah as it closed, Your ship is already being stolen.

The ramp clamped shut and Idyx, still holding onto Veresta, felt the familiar sensation of a ship taking off vibrate through his legs, loins and up into his chest.

Veresta stammered convincingly, Y-you had an accomplice?

Don’t be silly. I noticed the ship being stolen and decided to take advantage of the situation, he paused as he remembered something, Didn’t I tell you not to talk?

He moved with her towards the cockpit to meet his would-be rescuer but stopped short when the door opened to reveal the muzzle of a gun in his face.

He took note of the unconscious pilot with an empty holster and turned his attention to the seven and a half foot Trug with a missing arm in front of him.

And who might you be?

The Trug didn’t lower the pistol, I’m the man about to blow your head off, who the hell are you?

Idyx smiled, Idyx Lyr, at your service. I’d like to thank-

Shut up. Who’s the girl?

Why, she’s a Lieutenant in the GSF.

I can see that from her uniform. What is she doing here? While we’re on the subject, what are you doing here? he asked, gesturing with the gun.

I must admit, Idyx sighed, Taking advantage of your hospitality. I noticed you absconding with this vessel and took my chance to join you in escaping a life of imprisonment.

The Trug lowered his weapon, Idyx Lyr?

That’s right.

He nodded and motioned to Kaliah, Let her go.

She has a weapon, and while I am enjoying this position immensely, it is no position for me to relieve her of it.

The Trug reached over and plucked her gun out of its holster. Idyx, making sure to keep the gun in his tail trained on her head, raised his arms and disconnected from the Lieutenant.

Kaliah cleared her throat, smoothed out her uniform, and tried to gain some semblance of control over the situation, So, Guilden Crantz. I was wondering where you’d gotten too. You’ve been missing for over a month now.

Guilden stared blankly at her, I didn’t kill you because this transport is locked on autopilot until it receives the correct codes. I could spend the next half-hour cracking it, but it would go a lot faster if you just entered them in.

Kaliah straightened, I’m sorry, I’m afraid I won’t be able-

Guilden reached over and lightly flicked her on the head with a forefinger, knocking her unconscious immediately.

Idyx jumped back in surprise, Why on Earth?

Guilden pointed his ray gun at Idyx again, I didn’t kill you because you’re going to take the pilot and the girl to the back, tie them up, and take care of them. You can stay until I get us to the next spaceport, then you’re leaving. You keep the manacles on and you don’t talk. You don’t come near the cockpit unless I tell you, understand?

Now when you say-

You’re talking. What did I just say? Do it. Now.

Guilden didn’t turn his back until Idyx had dragged the two bodies out of the cockpit behind him, and then he set to work on cracking the autopilot code.

I’ve never heard of Idyx Lyr before, but his face is familiar. It doesn’t help he’s one of those Cedina’ens. Those creepy devils have never sat well with me, with those horns, teeth, and tail; and the fact he had a full guard contingent for his sole person when he arrived sets off alarms in my brain, but I can’t worry about that right now.

This GSF equipment is top of the line, for a ten-year-old transport engine destined for the backwater of Yarna IV. It’s going to take about twice as long to crack the code than I had previously believed. In case I can’t do that before we get to wherever the autopilot’s taking us, I need to find out, well, where the autopilot is taking us.

I pull up my borrowed pair of pants with my lower right arm and wipe some sweat from my forehead with my top right.

Trugs, because of our size, are often perceived as dim-witted beings. There’s nothing like fitting the profile, I mutter to myself as I confusedly flick through the wires behind the panel I ripped off.

The Cedina’en just used the intercom to tell me the girl was waking up. Didn’t I tell that little demon to be quiet? Still, it’s good to know. Maybe if he can get the code from her before I hot-wire this I can avoid adding vandalism to my murder, theft and kidnapping charges.

Kaliah had just begun to open her eyes blearily when Guilden’s deep, commanding voice echoed in her ears.

If you can get her to talk, we can part ways that much faster.

She opened her eyes all the way to stare into the jet black pupils of a deranged-looking devil creature.

I’ll do my best Cap’n, Idyx shouted in her face, loud enough for the transmitter on the other side of the cargo bay to pick up. She winced at the volume and stared up at him, then tried to maintain a civil tone.

You didn’t have to yell in my face, Mr. Lyr.

Idyx sat back and pouted, Please, call me Idyx. I despise prefixes.

Kaliah took in her surroundings. He had tied her to a post in the cargo bay, not forgetting to bind her wrists and ankles expertly.

But that’s no never mind, he continued jovially, I still have the utmost respect for you Lieutenant. What was a pretty girl like you doing in a place like that? What were you again? Director of prisoner transfer... anyway, what were you doing there?

She glanced around, Where’s the pilot?

He smiled, baring his sole fang, Tied up in another room. I’ve always marveled at those villains who tie their only two prisoners together, back to back. Rather stupid if you ask me. You Dixie off and they pop a ‘nana in the toaster and bang! You’ve got yourself a couple of jumpers.

Kaliah frowned at him.

Tell me something love. How large was my cell at your place going to be? You see, I want to know if I made the right choice. At the mental facility I was in on CaitarMai, my cell was only one square meter. I put in for a transfer because I felt cramped there; couldn’t swing a dead cat. I had been continuously denied until now, so what’s the scoop?

Cells at Yarna IV are one point five square, but you weren’t-

That is a greater area, he interrupted as he leant back against the bulkhead opposite her, his nodding interrupted by a sharp twitch in his neck, Not much to spit at. Still, I’d rather take a mule in the teeth than lick a mop!

Laughing hysterically, Idyx turned to roll on the floor. Kaliah took the opportunity to test the strength of the ropes holding her again. They were tight. Really tight.

Aren’t you going to ask me the code to disable the autopilot?

Idyx stopped laughing and rolling abruptly, looking up from an awkward position on the floor, Why would I do that?

But your partner-

I already told you, he’s not my partner. Never met him before in my life, and believe me, I’ve been around. No, I don’t want him to know the code. Fairly sure he’d top us off once he had it, and then I’d have less time to sit here talking to you!

Several moments passed creating a rather uncomfortable silence made even more so by Lyr’s disconcerting smile he refused to wipe from his face.

Or to sit here staring at you. I’m perfectly content to take in your remarkable good looks while we sit here quietly. It’s entirely up to you; I simply don’t think you’d be getting as much out of it as I would be.

Idyx tried to stare into her orange eyes, but she was averting them. People tended to do that when he stared at them. Must be his missing canine tooth. Or the horns. Either way, he realized suddenly that there was something about her that seemed awfully familiar.

Idyx’s smile grew wider, Kaliah Veresta.

She looked up, What?

Your name. When you introduced yourself to me and I proceeded to, very rudely I admit, make a hostage out of you. Your name is Kaliah Veresta.

Her mouth twitched, What of it?

I’ve heard it before, as I have heard of our friend doing the work in the cockpit.

So your ears have been around too, have they?

Idyx chuckled while amusing himself by flicking the safety on the gun Guilden had allowed him to keep on and off with his tail, Yes, all over the place; can’t seem to keep track of them. However, I’d expect Guilden Crantz would be trying to escape after being imprisoned for murdering forty people. I would not expect for Kaliah Veresta to be working for the GSF after being put on trial for-

I was acquitted.

Idyx seemed hurt by her defensive tone, Aye, so you were. I wasn’t making anything of it. I only fail to understand how you ended up an officer.

Here she was about to answer him, was she going crazy?

A senior officer took an interest in me. He offered me a job, home, clean slate... Wouldn’t you take that if you were given a chance?

Idyx looked thoughtful and then answered slowly and seriously, I don’t believe in clean slates. No matter what you do, it always comes back to you in the end.

I’ve run out of curse words to use so I content myself with punching the panel as hard as I can. All this time spent figuring out where we were headed, I could have spent hot-wiring the autopilot, and then I could have just flipped a coin and guessed our destination anyway.

We’re headed towards Brilist, the capital of the GSF. The whole seven-planet system is protected by gravity well generators, which means no one can leave without a GSF consort. It also means we’ll be exiting light-speed a good five minutes earlier than normal for a relatively short flight. At this point, by the time I disable the autopilot, we’ll be past the fifth planet in the Bril system.

I still have some luck left, however. GSF ships are clearly marked, so as long as I don’t do anything suspicious, they should leave me alone as I approach the planet, giving me time to come up with a plan.

There are scarce places to hide on Brilist, it being the governmental and thus military center of the galaxy. I could potentially pose as an officer, but only if there’s a big enough uniform on board.

Wait, what am I thinking? The GSF doesn’t employ Trugs, or humanoids as big as Trugs. Nivervs are big enough, but have six... arms, not four, and are definitely not humanoid. Anyway, they wouldn’t have any spare uniforms on a prisoner transport to avoid this exact sort of thought.

The girl. She’s humanoid and could play decoy. No, she’s probably well versed in any keywords, so I can’t put her in a situation where she’ll say anything. There’s that idea. Still, I have one last choice.

The Cedina’en.

You want to what? Idyx asked, his hands, still shackled, on his belt, his tail scratching around one of his horns.

Guilden motioned to Kaliah, You switch clothes with her, we’ll be your prisoners.

What about the pilot?

He’s a Nivervs. We can’t bring him out or he’ll be able to communicate without speaking, using those antennae. Either I shoot him or he stays locked up on board.

Idyx put up his hands, Let’s not go killing needlessly here. I’m sure we can think of a better plan.

There’s no time. We’re arriving at Brilist in less than an hour. You two need to be switched by then.

Don’t I get a say in this? asked Kaliah from her spot tied up to a post on the floor.

Idyx frowned, ignoring her, You’ll have to take these manacles off me, and untie the Lieutenant, for us to switch.

I am NOT changing in front of either of you.

Guilden growled, You don’t have a choice girlie.

Now, now, Idyx shook his tail, There’s no reason to be indecent. She’s unarmed. I’ll remove my clothes in the hall, she in here and we’ll switch them through the cargo bay door. You saunter up to the cockpit and watch the hallway on the monitor to make sure she doesn’t try anything.

How do I know you won’t?

Won’t what?

Try anything.

I’m the one in the hallway; you can see me. When we’re finished, you come down, we’ll tie you both up nice and we’ll be all set.

Guilden cracked his knuckles loudly by simply clenching his fists, Fine. Be quick about it.

As he lumbered back towards the front of the ship, Idyx turned to Kaliah with a roguish grin on his face.

Alright love, let’s get undressed.

Chapter Two: Old Wounds

The attendant came back to the cabin to inform the two occupants they would be arriving at Brilist within the hour. They had only stopped for a brief refuel on one of the moons of Derrouseu and were still running on schedule. When the attendant once again left them alone in the passenger compartment, Michael resumed his conversation with his companion and cellmate of two years.

Michael had been imprisoned two years ago for being caught conning a bank. The sentence was lengthened to ten years when the prosecution discovered it was the eighth such major bank he, his brother, and his girlfriend had taken for money. He and his brother had been jailed separately and his now-former flame had been acquitted when all evidence of her being involved in any of it conveniently disappeared.

Michael shook his head to clear the black dreadlocks from his brown eyes in order to see Frederick Flash Turbo Tomson better.

Flash, as he preferred to be called, was the fastest pilot in the galaxy. At least, he had been before a terrible racing accident had left him with a disease that caused continuous bleeding from the pores in his scalp. Graviton anomalies had disrupted his racer’s instrumentation on a leg of a space race, and Flash found himself sucked into the gravity well of the planet Moutara where, in the swamps, he crash-landed The disease had entered through the injuries to his head.

The former celebrity was forced to wear a bandage over his fair, blond hair, streaked with blood and coated in an ointment used for congealing the blood as it left his head. Regular transfusions helped to replace the blood he lost every few days.

After the accident, the former celebrity had fallen out of favor in the galactic racing community and had taken to smuggling medical supplies to various rebel factions contesting GSF rule over their individual systems. On one such run, Flash was caught by the GSF and instead of carrying medical supplies, which would have been only a year sentence, he was caught smuggling weapons.

Flash had been as surprised as anyone. The rebels he had picked the crates up from had labeled them medical. Even with his lack of awareness, he had landed five years in a cell.

This was why both of them were confused and surprised to be sitting in the cabin of a luxurious space limousine on their way to the capital planet, without so much as handcuffs on their wrists. Flash repeated his theory.

They’ve decided to execute us. That has to be it. They’re going to kill us.

Michael rolled his eyes, Don’t be ridiculous. They don’t kill people for theft, and certainly wouldn’t put down a former celebrity for transporting what he thought were medical supplies.

But they weren’t medical supplies, they were weapons. For all anybody knows, I’d been smuggling weapons the whole time. Weapons used against GSF soldiers. That would give them more than enough reason to... Flash trailed off worriedly. The accident had changed more than his physiology. Who was once one of the most daring and risk-taking pilots of all time was now afraid of every little noise and refused to allow even trained doctors to administer his transfusions, trusting only himself.

Then they could have just killed us instead of giving us a first-class ride to Brilist.

Flash tugged nervously at the collar of the racing uniform he still wore. He had refused the offer of GSF briefs when their pilot had given them the chance to change out of their prison outfits. Michael sat back comfortably, glad to be out of the grey jumpsuit with built-in shackles.

I’m more interested in why they’re taking us to Brilist, Michael said thoughtfully.

How is that any different from what we’ve been talking about?

Sorry, should have added ‘of all places’ at the end of that. I mean; it doesn’t make any sense. They wouldn’t be transferring us, he scratched at the dark skin of his cheek, They loaded all our possessions up, though. You didn’t hear them say anything about why they were moving us?

Flash shrugged, a failed attempt at nonchalance, It doesn’t really matter, does it? It’s not like we can do anything about it.

Michael nodded. If they were going to find out what was going on, it would be when they reached the Capital.

The Nivervs with the dark red uniform glared out of her six eyes at the one with the pale blue uniform. The antechamber to the entrance of the once glorious Palace of the Trinity filled with her rage, tangible enough to convince others milling about to give the pair a wide berth.

You choose now to tell me Lieutenant Veresta has not reported in yet? Her antennae shook uncontrollably.

The other Nivervs, a male of course, quivered but remained standing, Begging your pardon Fleet Admiral, but what difference does it make? Sensors show the ship arriving on schedule.

The Admiral clicked impatiently, It makes a great deal of difference, Corporal. It means she is not in control of the situation. If she was, you would bet your life the niece of Commander Marrti would report. Unless you would like to tell Commander Marrti you feel differently?

The underling clacked nervously, averting its eyes and shuffling several tarsi behind its back, It won’t happen again, Admiral Nvsrss.

See that it doesn’t, Fleet Admiral Nrsss Nvsrss barked.

She watched him scuttle away, pleased with her control over him but displeased with the situation involving the Lieutenant.

The whole plan would blow up in her face if Crantz or Lyr decided to pull anything stupid. Not that Kaliah wasn’t capable. She was surprisingly hardy for a humanoid. Kaliah was extremely book smart, and through her work was extremely familiar with the two criminals she would be bringing to Brilist. Though, it still didn’t compare with actually having to deal with them.

Nvsrss snapped herself out of her reverie and started towards Marrti’s office at the top of the palace’s north spire. It was her plan, or rather, her revision of a previous plan under the last Commander-in-Chief that had failed miserably. If this one failed, however, she would take the blame. So many things depended on so many other things; it was difficult for even a Nivervs to keep track of all the contingencies. She had one more piece to place before she started her grand game, but before she could leave to take care of it, she still had a progress report with Marrti.

She stopped at the giant double doors to his office, where a Nivervs guard detail stood.

Name and rank?

Nrsss Nvsrss, Fleet Admiral and Second-in-Command of the Galactic Security Forces.

Commander-in-Chief Marrti is expecting you.

The doors creaked open and Nvsrss entered. Marrti liked to keep his room dark, which practically made him invisible, with his black uniform and nearly black, dark blue, skin. Oémy Marrti had short, cropped orange hair and a high cheek boned, sharp-nosed, cleft-chinned face. His orange eyes looked up from the paper on his desk, the room’s only furniture.

Fleet Admiral, he said in a rich, cultured voice, Is it time for the report already?

This is the allotted time, Commander.

Marrti checked another paper, So it was. Well, has my niece played her part yet?

Nvsrss didn’t hesitate, She has not reported in yet, but the ship has entered the system and is approaching at mandatory speed. The other ship will be here soon, and reports no problems.

Yet there were none to be expected for the first ship, were there? I want a full security detail to await the second at its dock. If anything has happened to her...

Nvsrss moved her antennae reassuringly, despite the unlikelihood of her superior noticing the alien gesture, Kaliah is an extremely capable officer.

Marrti smiled thinly, She is isn’t she?

Her ability has put any nepotism complaints to bed.

Perhaps she shouldn’t have mentioned that; his eyebrows had twitched before he responded, Quite. What about the pilot?

He has been recruited, but again I fail to see the point. Frederick Tomson is one of the most capable pilots in the galaxy.

Yes, but he has a condition, and those psychological profiles you love so much shed doubt on his confidence. Don’t worry; the pilot is a good idea. Consider it my small contribution to your brilliant plan.

Nvsrss clicked her acceptance.

Now what of the backup? Marrti continued, Have you chosen anyone?

I have the perfect candidate. He will have no choice but to perform to his utmost capacity.

Good. It seems silly, with what’s about to happen, but I’d like to get this Food Goods Taxation bill finished in the next couple days before I leave, especially in light of all the gang activity hiking up the price of importing food. Even the small families are starting to claim regions of space in the western disk. I don’t want to be negligent of my constituents.

Of course. I will be on my way.

As Nvsrss turned, Marrti marked something on one of his papers, Our final report before I leave will be the day after tomorrow. Once your team is settled in on Hgfst.

Nvsrss noted it down in her mind and went to finish setting up the board.

The flight slowed down once they reached the outermost planet of the Bril system, exiting light-speed and giving Michael and Flash some time to determine on what axis they would be approaching the second planet from the white dwarf sun.

I wish I had a computer, Flash complained, holding out his hands in an attempt at imitating the three-dimensional space lane they had taken to the system, If this is Derrouseu, and Brilist is in its third-quarter rotation, we should be coming in closer to its southern pole.

Are you sure you’ve got the axial tilt of the planet right? Michael asked as he tried to discern what Flash was doing with his thumb, What’s the rotation speed in hours?

No, this is right. Brakley’s moons would be in the way of a direct path from Briliant, where we entered the system, so we’d have to curve. That’s why you’re confused on the tilt; this is looking at it from where we’re coming in.

I think I see it now.

Really? I’m starting to get confused by my own hands.

No, Brilist. I see it now.

Flash turned to look out a window, and sure enough, Brilist came into view, nearly head-on. The lack of heat from a white dwarf star made all the planets in the Bril system, including the second planet Brilist, cold. The axial tilt made the top quarter of the globe practically unlivable with ice, most of the southern hemisphere and part of the northern hemisphere were covered in city, wherever there was no water. The planet looked like a giant spider had attached itself to it, with the ship lanes and entrance vectors sprawling out from the central lump that was the Capital.

Oh, Flash said, I hadn’t realized we were this close.

Brilist had long ago been unified under a single government, unlike most planets in the galaxy that still had several political entities warring over who should control their planet’s resources. For this reason, when the Trinity rose out of the ashes of the Balint-or Government that had conquered the known galaxy over 15ThTh years ago, Brilist made the most sense as a center of galactic domination. At that point, it had already been unified under a government created by Nivervs colonists shortly after the advent of Galactic Recorded History. The Nivervs conquered all the indigenous species of Brilist, wiping all intelligent life-forms out of existence, and when the Trinity conquered the galaxy, the Nivervs offered it as the capital. In exchange, the Nivervs were inducted as the Galactic Security Forces, the Trinity’s police force. While most sentient beings had little concerns over who was the so-called ruler of their galaxy, the Trinity did manage to murder an impressive number of them. 471 years ago, tired of being subservient to the oligarchy’s excesses, the GSF overthrew the Trinity, freeing the galaxy of their tyranny.

You were wrong about the southern hemisphere, looks like they reoriented to come in at the equator. The Capital’s capital itself.

Flash ignored Michael. He always used to be fascinated by descents into the atmosphere, the burning on the outside of the ship that always meant reentry. It was beautiful when in a racer, with a 36Th-degree view from the cockpit; it was almost as if you were falling through space itself. Now, the wonder had gone from Flash’s experience ever since his accident and he was just worried the ship wouldn’t break apart each time it happened. Nausea would come without fail.

Flash closed his eyes until he heard the roaring from the outside of the ship stop, then looked down to see their space limousine heading straight for the Trinity Palace, with all its tiers of landing platforms.

Uh... Michael?

I see it.

As they approached, the limousine moved out of the normal entrance vector to the one reserved for GSF craft and palace-bound vessels. The Palace grew larger and larger as they approached, its spires stretching farther and farther towards the sky as they descended. They could hear faintly the pilot conversing with the landing patrol from the cockpit and felt the ship revert course towards a platform off of the base of the north spire, the Executive wing of the palace.

You think it’s a bigwig wanting to see us? Flash felt his teeth chatter, Or are you willing to entertain my execution idea?

The limousine righted and with a smooth, easy motion lowered its struts onto the platform with a slight hiss of steam escaping the fluidic landing system. The attendant came forward from the cockpit, the Atrpew smoothed the front of her light blue uniform with her furry, pale, three-fingered hand.

Your escort is waiting outside, she said through the two upward facing tusks jutting up from her bottom lip, The pilot hopes you had a pleasant flight, and that you find the Fleet Admiral’s accommodations adequate.

Flash’s jaw dropped, Fleet Ad-

Please, the attendant interrupted, There’s no reason to keep her waiting.

The wind was just chilly enough to prompt Flash to hug his arms around himself and rub his shoulders as they walked down the ramp to meet a trio of Nivervs waiting for them. The one with the Colonel’s insignia on one of its shoulders stepped forward and spoke in the distinctive click-clack that accompanied the translation of the Nivervs language.

If you’ll follow me, the Fleet Admiral wishes to meet with you immediately.

Michael cleared his throat and pulled down on the front of the new, light blue GSF uniform he’d been provided, Did she say you could tell us why?

Not here, and not I, the Colonel’s antennae swayed as he turned around and walked towards the platform’s entrance to the palace. The other two officers waited for Flash and Michael to follow the Colonel before falling in behind them. Michael leant in to whisper to Flash.

Looks like we even got some brass as an escort. Who is the Fleet Admiral these days?

All I remember is it’s a female bug. The guards back on Tryes stopped delivering the commercial info-feed a couple of months ago remember? Just static.

I never looked at the thing anyway, Michael whistled, Second-in-command...

He trailed off as they entered the palace, proceeded through a short checkpoint where they were scanned for weapons, and were led into the main part of the north spire. The noise was deafening. As they made their way through the throng of Nivervs, Humans, Atrpews and other species all working for the Executive Branch of the GSF, it took considerably longer to reach an elevator only a couple meters away than it normally should have. Flash nearly lost sight of the Colonel they were following through the sea of light blue officer uniforms and light green recruit ones. The Colonel reached an elevator and managed, with a raised voice, to order everyone inside out on account of business with the Fleet Admiral; so Flash, Michael, and the three aliens had at least some elbow room as the cab flew up to nearly the top of the spire.

When the elevator doors opened there was complete silence. The official structure of the spire left nothing to the imagination. They were on the second-highest floor, to meet the second most important person in the government. Only a young human recruit with pale skin shuffled by, nervously attending to his duties on such an important level. The Colonel continued to lead Flash and Michael the short walk to the door to the Fleet Admiral’s office.

Admiral Nvsrss has offered you the FA Suite to use during your stay here on Brilist. It’s on this floor, and when the Admiral is finished with you, she’ll call me up and I’ll escort you and our other guests there.

Other guests? Michael said.

Begging your pardon sir, but the Fleet Admiral will explain, the Colonel opened the office doors and beckoned them inside, closing it behind them.

They had entered a large office, brightly lit, with large, cube-shaped furniture arrayed around a large wooden table. It spoke more conference room than an office.

The table had a holographic projector built into the middle, starkly contrasting the simplicity of the wood and modern technology. The ten pieces of furniture surrounding it were recognized to be the incredibly expensive creation of the Ruuter Industries. The cubes, when sat upon, would contort to the exact shape of the sitter, recognizing pressure points and compensating appropriately to provide the perfect sitting experience. Michael walked up and marveled at the one closest to him, at the end of the table.

These things look great! I’ve heard of them but never seen one before. They’re supposedly worth the GPP of some planets. This is your hard-earned tax money at work, Michael said sarcastically.

Flash snorted, The GSF doesn’t tax its subjects. It just takes whatever it wants from them.

A voice from behind them made them jump, It is at least a better system than on some planets, is it not?

They turned to see a slightly larger than average Nivervs in a red uniform, four gold bars inlaid in the collar.

Gentlemen, please have a seat. I regret to have brought you here without explaining my purpose, and I am afraid I will have to disappoint you still. We must await the arrival of the other attendees to this meeting before we can get underway. Although their ship will be arriving shortly, there is the possibility of a delay, she waved a tarsus at the table, Mr. Tomson, Mr...

It’s just Michael. They don’t give you last names in the orphanage, Michael said, and you must be the Fleet Admiral?

Indeed. Fleet Admiral Nrsss Nvsrss, at your service. I would offer you a drink but the kitchen staff has been given an impromptu leave of absence, and until they return we are forced to use food pills and nutrient bars.

It’s no problem, Michael said, taking a seat and basking in the chair as it contoured to his exact shape, Flash this is amazing, you’ve got to try it.

Flash glanced nervously about the room, No thanks, I’ll stand until the other guests arrive.

Michael glanced at his friend with concern, Anyway, thank you for the offer Fleet Admiral. Is there anything you can tell us about the others who will be joining us?

Nvsrss’ antennae twitched as she turned from studying Flash with a cocked head to Michael, who seemed to be taking things in stride rather well, Of course. Two of them are convicts such as yourselves, although they were both imprisoned for much worse crimes than you; Guilden Crantz and Idyx Lyr.

Never heard of them.

I am not surprised, she said as she moved to the head of the table to take a seat, The galaxy is large enough that even serial killers can be relative unknowns to some.

Flash started, his face going pale and a drop of blood rolling down the side of his face from his bandage, Serial killers?

Do not worry Mr. Tomson, Nvsrss said silkily, Only one of them is a murderer, and Mr. Crantz is very particular about whom he kills. Now, the other one-

Nvsrss was interrupted by a chime from the communications panel on the wall behind her. She stood to go answer. Flash could hear her conversing quickly and quietly with the other end. She said something hurriedly, turned off the panel and looked at them.

Our other guests have landed, but as I feared there will be a delay. I have been asked to deal with it personally. If you will wait quietly until I return?

Michael nodded and started shifting his weight in the chair to test it. Flash shrugged and watched Nvsrss scuttle quickly from the room, locking the door behind her. If that wasn’t enough, Flash was still confused by Michael’s seemingly calm demeanor.

Something else was bothering him too. Perhaps it was that something did not sit well with Flash about the serial killer Guilden Crantz.

The Cedina’en is playing his part so well, I would even believe him, but the GSF obviously expected us; there was a whole troop of guards waiting when we lowered the ramp. He’s trying to talk his way into them letting us go, but it won’t work. They know who we are. The girl looked like she was about to say something, but the look I gave her made her bite her tongue.

Idyx looks back to me as he says something to the front Nivervs and gives me a look that suggests he would like to know if I have a backup plan. I don’t. Not yet.

We can’t go back in the ship, and even if we did, while I tried to disable the auto-pilot the guards would have been able to shoot their way through. The platform is surrounded by high walls and the only exit is into the building we landed next to. I feel so stupid. I was so wrapped up in the plan; I didn’t even pay attention to where we were landing. For all I know this could be Trinity Palace itself. The only other alternative is to fight, but only Idyx has a weapon; it was part of the plan that the girl and I didn’t. Maybe this wasn’t thought out so well.

Idyx plainly agrees as the guards yell at him to keep all his appendages away from the gun at his hip. He had insisted on carrying it in the holster, rather than already have it in his hand. Not that it matters too much, but now there’s no chance to win in a fight. If he had been able to pick off a few, I could have... Never mind. I’ll just rip off my handcuffs and charge. Better to go down fighting than to go down like a-

There is a pain in my leg and I belatedly realize the girl has kicked me in the shin hard enough to drop me to the ground.

Kaliah watched as Idyx kept his hands and tail raised, Gentlebeings, I assure you, this is some kind of mistake. I was simply escorting these prisoners from Yarna IV to Tryes. I was told to transfer to another ship when I reached Brilist. This is all a misunderstanding.

She blew at the yellow bangs hanging in her eyes. She knew Idyx couldn’t look back at Guilden again, even if it seemed the guards weren’t buying their bluff; if there was even the slightest chance it would work, there needed to