The Seryys Chronicles: Of Nightmares Page 6

  “I’ll have my best programmer on it within the hour, sir.”

  “Thank you, Dack. I owe you one… again.”

  “Just doing my part for king and country, sir. I’ll call you when I have something to report.”

  ‘Thanks again, Dack.” The channel went dead. A few seconds later, his computer registered a new message with a lot of information attached. The whole download took nearly five minutes, and just half of that to copy it to a portable drive. He then deleted the message and all the information therein. Next, he called in his best programmer Jor’Ray Jorrar. The skinny, gangly kid of maybe twenty years sauntered in. Dah wondered if he was ever that young…

  “D’you call me, Cap?”

  “I did, Jorrar. Have a seat.” Jorrar apprehensively sat in the chair facing Dah. “I have a very important task for you, Jorrar. I need you to search every byte of space on this drive. Leave nothing unchecked and report back to me, and only me. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’m giving level three clearance and you are not to do use any computer except mine.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’m giving you forty eight hours to complete this assignment.” Jorrar simply stared at him. “You had better hurry!”

  Dah got up and let Jorrar do his thing.

  Chapter Six

  The air was damp and musty; the corridor floor was covered with the dead, long dead; sounds of dripping water and his own breathing were the only things he heard. This place is cursed, he thought to himself. With his incredible night vision, he was able to navigate the poorly lit corridor with ease. All over were the telltale signs of a struggle; blast marks on the walls from gunfire and explosives; deep, gouging slashes into the crete walls. Some of the remains were neither Seryysan nor Vyysarri, but something alien. Well…more accurately put, something far less alien than even the Seryysans: the planet’s original inhabitants known to the Seryysans as Reapers, monsters of myth that only a handful of people know to be real.

  Chief of Staff Trall had tried once to set these things loose upon Seryys City as a way of driving the people out. If the city were to be abandoned, even for an emergency, Trall could have started digging for the Ti’tan’lium deposit the next day. Over tens of thousands of years, Ti’tan’lium formed in horizontal “plates” beneath the surface. The plate in question ran practically the entire area beneath the city. D-PAG (the Department of Planetary Agriculture and Geology) deemed it unsafe to extract the ore, as the city would certainly fall in on itself. Trall would have deemed it a terrible tragedy when the city finally collapsed in on itself—and since the city was already destroyed by the Reapers, why not just claim the Ti’tan’lium for himself and make a large fortune? Of course, this was all for the greater good of the Seryysan People…

  Seryyk, Vyysarri slang for “Seryysan Killer,” deftly moved through the corridor. Eventually, the smooth walls of the corridor gave way to rocky walls of earth-laden stone so strong that it took several years and military grade explosives to excavate the hallway. The schematic, which was provided to him by his employer—a mysterious man known only as Stiprox—showed that the door to the mines was just a few more yards ahead. It also showed how to bypass the security features within the abandoned mining facility. That way no one, not even the owner of this facility—whoever it was, would know until it was too late… if at all.

  Stiprox, Seryyk mused; the self-proclaimed leader of the Vyysarris’ Anti-Vyysarri/Seryysan Reunification Resistance had always been shrouded in secrecy. He had named himself after a long-extinct, reclusive, predatory reptile known for its covert hunting technique and lightning-fast strike that used to live on Vyysar before the Vyysarri crash-landed there and literally bled its largest food source dry. No one, not even the highest-ranking members of the Resistance, had ever met him in person. All transmissions were conducted in audio only and, obviously, a voice scrambler was used every time. He seemed to have a vast amount of wealth, enough to have government officials in his pocket, to get classified information for missions such as Seryyk’s current assignment. The Dah Ore Extraction Mining Facility 11 had been locked up for decades before Captain Dah thwarted Trall’s plans, and was still locked to this day. Seryyk longed for the day when he’d be rewarded for his efforts to derail the reunification movement by actually meeting Stiprox in person, so that he might gaze upon a glorious warrior and patriot of the Vyysarri people… And what better way to do that than to bring down Seryys’ greatest city, Seryys City, and then bring down Seryys’ greatest hero, General Khai’Xander Khail.

  Seryyk reached his destination. The door was made of pure Ti’tan’lium, the military grade stuff that the government used for the hulls of their vast navy of massive ships. The locking mechanisms were fused shut by the efforts of Captain Dah and his identical twin brother Dack’Tander Dah a few years earlier. The door itself was in pristine condition. The Ti’tan’lium kept well, even in dark, dank places as this. Though the door was permanently sealed, Seryyk had other methods of getting the door open.

  Seryyk dropped the large, extremely heavy pack he is carrying on his back. From the pack, he first pulled out a heavy-duty tripod. He set it up directly in front of the door at the opposite side of the hall. Next, he drilled ten-inch-long, acid etched Ti’tan’lium bolts, that use the heat of friction to literally bond with the rock into which they were being drilled, into the floor through the eyeholes at each foot of the tripod. Once he was thoroughly convinced that the bolts had cooled and bonded and the tripod wasn’t going to move, he extracted another device from the bag, the final piece: a military grade, Seryys Combat Mark II Laser Cannon, the kind used on most of the dogfighters in the Seryys Navy.

  Seryyk mounted the cannon on the tripod and connected the firing mechanism. The trigger was on a timer. Seryyk set the timer for ten minutes; that would give him enough time to get out and get on his ship before the cannon started firing. He then set the trigger for continuous fire for an additional twenty minutes. That way not only would the cannon melt a hole through the door, it will also melt a hole through several Reapers, whipping them up into a crazed frenzy.

  Seryyk sat there for a moment with his clawed finger hovering over the ENABLE button.

  “For the Resistance…” he whispered to no one in particular. Then he pressed the button…

  Chapter Seven

  If there was anything that Dah hated more than not fighting alongside his men, it was waiting. He was not a patient man. He paced like a caged animal in his living room while his new wife, Bria’Nah Briar, watched the holo’vyyd.

  “Dack, sit down, you’re making me motion sick!” she finally snapped. “Wearing a hole in the carpet isn’t going to make things go any faster!”

  “I know,” Dah admitted. “But if I don’t have something to do, I’m gonna snap!”

  “I’m sure your people are working on it as quickly as possible. Come sit down and give your neglected wife some attention.”

  Dah took a deep, calming breath and sat. Bria leaned in closer for a kiss when Dah’s com unit chirped. Dah gave Bri a quick peck on the lips and answered. Bri heaved a heavy sigh and crossed her arms like a kid throwing a tantrum.

  “Dah!” he snapped into the device, looking apologetically at his wife. He listened, his face getting more and more slack jawed. “I’ll be there in five minutes!”

  Dah couldn’t believe his eyes. On the computer screen was a star chart. It was definitely their galaxy. There were some definitive markers—stars, nebulae, etc, that had been seen by their long-range telescopes and deep space probes, but the names were all wrong. Most of their portion of the galaxy was widely unexplored, even the area where they found the derelict—though from the description of it, it appeared that the planet didn’t originate there. From the galactic map, it appeared that these people originated from a place they called Alpha Centauri. There were several inhabited worlds on the map, but they mostly stayed within a relatively small region around that particular
star system.

  There was a region on the map marked in red. Over the top of it was written: F’ROSIAN SPACE, NO-FLY ZONE.

  “What’s a F’Rosian?” Jorrar asked.

  “I don’t know, but if these guys were afraid enough to stay out of their way, I don’t want to meet them.” Jorrar only nodded in agreement, never looking away from the monitor. “Is this all you have?”

  “No, there is more. Most of the data was corrupted or protected by some very advanced encryption. Most I couldn’t crack with a team of me-clones working all day and night.”

  “So what did you get?”

  “Mostly just general information. The ship was called the Freedom. She was an exploration ship, had some very advanced weaponry that if we could reverse engineer…” he let that trail off to sink in. “Not to mention the micro-star technology.”

  “What’s that?” Dah asked.

  “It’s an energy source that powers the ship. They had the ability to create suns and use their limitless energy to power their ships. It’s clean, it’s free and it’s long-lasting.”

  “Is that all?”

  “Nope, I saved the best for last. I think, from the research that I’ve done, that there is a weapons cache hidden within an asteroid field outside of Alpha Centauri, sort of a last stand type of thing, I think. Though the info is spotty at best, I believe there could be ships, weapons and provisions.”

  “Do you know if it’s been used up or collected by these people?”

  “I don’t,” Jorrar admitted. “But isn’t it worth a look?”

  Prime Minister Puar smiled broadly, he had, for an ex-military man, the look of a politician. Tall, dark and handsome, with a military flattop haircut and short goatee—both completely gray—and just shy of eighty years, he was a heartthrob amongst the female population of all ages. “Good work, Dack. Your programmer is something special.”

  “Thank you, sir. Were your techs able to get much more?”

  “Unfortunately, no,” Prime Minister Puar said shaking his head. “But that means things are not looking good for Sibrex at all.”

  “I still don’t think he’s the leak,” Dah insisted.

  “But I need proof,” the Prime Minister said, actually looking defeated for about a second.

  “So let’s not tell Khai just yet, see what happens,” Dah suggested.

  “And how do you suppose we do that? If it is a leak in my staff, wherever it may be, I can’t just dispatch a ship. They’ll know.”

  “With all due respect, sir, if there is a leak in your staff, they already know. We need to send an independent ship, outside of the military.”

  “Who can I trust to do that?”

  “We can trust my brother. He helped before and… he’s my brother. I trust him with my life.”

  The world leader thumbed his chiseled chin. “I’ll give it some thought. But don’t tell him until I’ve made my decision.”

  “I won’t tell him anything. You have my word, Sir.”

  “Thank you, Dack. I will contact you shortly with my decision either way.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  Khai hated waiting more than anything. He was a man of action, not idle standby. Puar was entertaining himself with a holo’novel and Sibrex was doing something that looked like sleeping sitting up. Puar’s accusation of Sibrex was troubling him deeply. What if Puar was right? Dark thoughts swirled within Khai’s head and he didn’t like where those thoughts were taking him.

  To clear Sibrex’s name was going to take proof. Finally, he had something to do! He got on the computer in the back and started digging. The quickest way to disprove Puar’s theory was to prove that Sibrex made no transmissions of any kind. If he didn’t contact anyone out in Vyysarri Space, then there was no way he could have tipped anyone off. As Dah always told him, start with the most obvious sources and work your way out.

  He accessed the ship’s communications systems and started digging through logs. It didn’t take him long to find something that made his stomach turn—a coded transmission to Vyysarri Space that was deleted immediately after. Khai’s spirits fell instantly. It was a transmission that lasted all of about four minutes, which was more than long enough to give coordinates to their location. Maybe he was the leak, Khai mused. Doubt wriggled its icy tendrils up Khai’s spine, made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Was he really sitting with the culprit in his cockpit? No! Khai raged. There must be a logical reason for this transmission.

  Khai got up and stalked into the main cabin where Sibrex was meditating. Khai loomed over him. Without opening his eyes he said, “Something troubling you, Khai?”

  “We need to talk – now!”

  Sibrex frowned, “Of course.”

  He led Sibrex back to the engineering section, leaving Puar in the cockpit looking confused and intrigued at the same time. Khai swung the airtight door shut.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Sibrex said nothing, only frowned in confusion. “Do you realize that you’re wanted for treason?”

  “I am acutely aware of that, Khai,” Sibrex said calmly.

  “So, knowing that, why are you sending coded transmissions to Vyysarri space?” Khai demanded.

  “As I’m sure everyone on Seryys has seen the debris field that was once our ships on the news, so have all those in Vyysarri Space. I was simply calling out to let my loved ones know that I was not on board when the Hellfire was destroyed. As I am sure that your wife was relieved to hear that you weren’t dead.”

  A huge pang of guilt shot through Khai. He never contacted Brindee to let her know that he was all right. “You never told me you had family.”

  “You never asked. And furthermore, I try exceedingly hard to keep them safe by never mentioning them to anyone. I can’t afford to have my grandchildren and great grandchildren getting punished by the Resistance for my service in the Seryys Navy.”

  “But why coding and deleting the message when you’re done?” Khai was still suspicious.

  “I coded it so that no one would intercept the transmission and be able to trace it to either them or us. I deleted the message so if the Star Splitter were to ever fall into enemy hands, they wouldn’t get any information that could lead to my family.”

  “Are you also aware that you’re the prime suspect for this whole thing?”

  Sibrex’s eyes betrayed his surprise, though outwardly he made no indication of that surprise. “I was not.”

  “And now you’re making coded calls and deleting them. How am I supposed to prove your innocence when you’re doing shady things like that?”

  “I imagine it is difficult. But you have my gratitude for your faith.”

  “Well, it’s gonna take more than faith to get you out of this. You understand? From here on out, complete honesty on everything.”

  “I understand,” Sibrex said, softly, almost defeated. “I have six children, ten grandchildren and three great grandchildren.”

  “Are you married?”

  “No,” Sibrex said sadly. “My wife was killed when our colony was attacked by a Seryys flotilla. That’s when I joined the Vyysarri Military.”

  “Sibrex, I’m… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry-”

  “Yes you did!” Sibrex snapped angrily, then immediately regained his composure. “And I understand why.” Khai said nothing, guilt throbbed through his head. “Now, though, if we get captured, I will be forced to kill you…”

  Khai looked at him sternly for a moment before a small, almost imperceptible grin crept to corner of Sibrex’s mouth.

  Instantly they both burst out into laughter that Puar could hear from the cockpit.

  “What did I miss?” he called out.

  “It’s nothing,” Khai called back, wiping tears from his eyes.

  Chapter Eight

  “It’s nothing,” Dah said, waving a dismissing hand. “Probably just a case of mistaken identity. Send a patrol over just to shut them up.”

  “Sir, they seem very adamant tha
t there is something big and nasty trapped in their basement,” Lieutenant Bar’Rett Barr insisted. “With all due respect, Cap’n, I heard the dispatch. You can’t fake fear like that.”

  “Okay, Lieutenant,” Dah said, with a sigh. “Take your team and report back on the double.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  Ridiculous, taking a SCATT squad off of patrol to investigate an animal break-in, he mused. As if there aren’t enough problems to deal with already…

  It wasn’t five minutes when he got a frantic call from Barr.

  “Report,” Dah ordered. “What’s the problem?”

  “Sir! I’ve never seen anything like it!” he shouted over heavy gunfire and screeching of whatever was being shot. “It actually kicked the door clear off its hinges when we got here. It ripped two of my men to shreds! Requesting backup!”

  Dah checked his roster; the other teams were engaged with riots in Lower Serrys and the Red Light District.

  “Negative,” Dah said. “No backup available.”

  “Cap’n, there’s more than one of these things! We need help! Call the military, something!”

  It was not like Barr to panic under pressure. A little seed of concern was planted in his head, but he was short on resources. After a minute of deliberation, he got and up and marched for the locker room. He donned his riot gear, it felt snug. Pushing papers has made me fat, he thought sadly. The grip of his military-issue Full-Auto, 23-10, 23-.75 (23 being the year it was made, 10 being the number in its series, 23 being the overall length in inches and .75 being the diameter of the bullet it used in inches) felt good in his hand. He clicked his radio to make sure it worked and said, “Hang in there, Barr. Backup is coming!”

  Dah raced down to the garage and jumped into one of the hover cars. It was only a few minutes’ drive in the Emergency Response Vehicle Altitude Lane or the ERVA Lane. Upon approach, the whole neighborhood was gripped in panic. People were running to and fro, some jumping into hover cars, others into trash receptacles. The house in question was located on the east edge of Serrys City roughly six miles east of the Red Light District. To the east beyond was wide open prairie as far as the eye could see.