Security Matters

Tales from the Atreblan Valley

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((From the files of Alex Jones; original posting 1998))

Part 1

1 November 2200 hours
Briefing Room – Guards HQ – the Beacon

    “Is all this really necessary, Captain?” The speaker wore the silver starburst of a Guards captain herself, as well as a look of obvious disapproval.
    The target of her disapproval studied his questioner for a moment. Three years of mostly administrative work had not softened the tough features, nor erased the wary look of an experienced campaigner. When Captain Ghorann spoke, Alex Jones listened.
    “Maybe not. But right now…” He shrugged, his youthful features almost apologetic. “There’s just not much else we can do. It may not stop ‘em – but at least it’ll slow ‘em down.”
    Ghorann grunted, her lack of conviction apparent. “I hope you’re right.” She turned to the sergeant across the table. “Mewlip, you have the new duty schedules, yet?”
    “Ready and posted, sir.” The brown eyes held a level self-assured look. Nods around the table told of the soldiers’ trust in the little hobbit’s organizing skill. If Mewlip set it up, it would work. “Lieutenant Drushak has already sent the night shift out.”
    Alex glanced at the hulking figure at the end of the table. Most people were completely taken in by the minotaur’s size and looks. It usually came as quite a shock when they discovered that behind that complacent expression lurked a first-rate mind and lightning-quick reflexes. Which was why the lieutenant was now a lieutenant, and the night’s Duty Officer. “Any problems, Dru?”
    It was always a trifle disconcerting to see the big grin split Dru’s massive head. “No, sir. All the details are in place, and we have two full squads on stand-by.”
    “Then if there are no more questions…” His eyes flickered from person to person around the table.
    “Ah… Captain.” The words carried noticeable weight of distaste. Attention shifted to a slim immaculately mustachioed officer whose expression resembled nothing so much as that of a man required to clean out a nightjar with bare hands.
    Julian derKorst was a captain himself, but managed somehow to always wear his uniform as if it were a Field Marshal’s dress ceremonial. The carefully styled black locks and precise manner were quite obviously those of one born to the highest levels of society. The dark eyes were those of a killer. Those who noticed only the former frequently lived barely long enough to regret the latter.
    “Julian?” Alex kept his tone carefully neutral. That there was no love lost between the titled Swordmaster and the former freebooter was no secret, especially since Lord Keirin had assigned Alex to temporary command of security over the more-experienced Guards veterans. On the arm of Alex’s chair, the little fairy dragon rustled multicolored wings and peered violet eyes balefully at the dark man. Everyone else present assumed guarded expressions.
    DerKorst’s voice was oily. “One… assumes… that Lord Keirin has… ah… given his approval for these unusual dispositions.”
    “He has put these – dispositions – into my hands, Captain – if that’s what you’re asking.” A few shared looks around the table. There was a glint of steel in the blue-green eyes which belied the delicate looks inherited from the young adventurer’s elven mother, and which did not go unnoticed among the other officers.
    “Of course, Captain.” Said with just the proper touch of disdain, and implying a total lack of belief that this inexperienced interloper had the foggiest notion of what he was doing. “Will the… ah… arrangements require my services?” This to Mewlip, who was visibly nervous under derKorst’s viper-like stare.
    Alex answered quickly. “Actually, Julian, I’d like you to take charge of the reaction force… if you would. I want to have our best fighters available for that.”
    The viper look shifted. “Certainly, Captain. I shall assume command immediately. By your leave…?”
    The blond head nodded. “Dismissed… all of you. Get your people in place. Oh, and –“ A momentary halt of chairs scraping as the company rose. “ …don’t forget – call me immediately if anything unusual occurs. And Keirin if you can’t get me. Let’s keep on top of this.” A mix of nods and muttered assents, and the officers began to file out of the room.
    Alex breathed out a low sigh as he turned to the hobbit. “Sergeant, one of these days that man’s going to poison himself with his own fangs.”
    The little non-com grinned as he reached to lift the stack of papers from the table before him. “Not today, sir. He’ll be too busy letting everyone know he’s really in charge of this mission.”
    “You know something, Sarge?” The captain’s face was a study in innocence. “I’d just as soon he was. Then when Sabrar hits us again, I wouldn’t have to take the blame.” The two chuckled, and the fairy dragon began to chirr quietly at his friend’s better mood.
    In the doorway, unnoticed by captain, sergeant, or dragon, a pair of eyes glanced over a shoulder, then swung purposefully out into the passage, accompanied by a smug self-satisfied smile. Behind smile and eyes formed the thought: They have no idea. The hallway echoed with the sound of boots as the officers went out into the night.
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(Part 2)

2 November 0930 hours
Armory – Guard HQ – the Beacon

    The big blond sergeant looked mildly confused. “What in Thor’s name do you need these for?”
    The dark eyes glinted mischievously. “Rat hunting.” Grinning he added. “Might come in useful, Gudri.”
    In spite of herself, Gudri grinned back. “And I suppose you lost the requisition… as usual.”
    “Don’t you hate when that happens? Hurry, now, there’s a good girl. – I want to get this done before lunch.”
    “Hmph. We can’t have you missing lunch – I don’t want to hear you whine. You’re worse than the dragon,” she added maliciously. A clipboard appeared on the desk beside the wooden box with the red lettering indicating poison-tipped bolts. “Sign there … and there.”
    Two quick scrawls, and regulations were satisfied. He hefted the box by the carry-strap and winked at the armory sergeant. “Thanks, Gudri. Marry me?”
    “Oh, you!” Shaking her head, she turned back to the storeroom door. “One day I’ll say yes – and then where will you be?”
But there was no answer. He had already gone.


2 November 1115 hours
Gardens outside Le Amon’s residence

    A butterfly danced soundlessly around the low stone bench overlooking the lake. Despite the lateness of the season, the air here was warm and scented, and summer flowers still scattered sprays of color across the grass. An idyllic scene, thought the Guards lieutenant. Blue eyes carefully scanned the immediate area and, satisfied, dropped to examine the stone. There…
    Less than a minute later the lieutenant was walking casually towards the lake, the message retrieved. Soon there would come the chance to read it in private; but for now, the inspection would proceed, to all appearances just part of the newly-tightened security. Captain Jones would be pleased. So would Sabrar.


2 November 1450 hours
A grove near the southwest shore of Atrebla Lake

    The officer studied the tree trunk. Six hits inside the three-inch circle hand-marked on the wood. “Not bad.”
    The marksman was pleased and not quite able to hide it. “That is what I’m paid for… sir.”
    A smile. “Yes, it is, isn’t it?” Now…” A different weapon was handed over. “Let’s see what you can do with one of these.”
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2 November 1510 hours
Operations Room – Guards HQ – the Beacon

    When Lieutenant Mary Elisabeth Beauregard walked in, the Duty Officer looked harried. The dark-haired elf was usually in a good humor, but there was no smile on his face now, and there was an edge to his voice that he never used on the pretty halfelven communications sergeant.
    “Blast it, Kase, what do you mean he won’t answer?”
    Sergeant Ekasia Winthor drew herself up to her full five-foot-one and managed to look down on her taller superior. “Sir, I can’t help it – he’s not answering my call. I don’t know why.” Fire smoldered in her blue eyes. The bright red hair didn’t hurt the image.
    The new arrival coughed not-so-discretely. On the verge of a retort, the Duty Officer spun too quickly around and stopped. “Oh, hi, Dixie.” The sergeant, relief visible on her face, started to salute.
    “Stop it, Kase. And relax, Fairy. What in Stonewalls’s name is going on?” Her own blue eyes were narrowed.
    Lieutenant Faerien Lothlan was used to his nickname by now, Dixie knew, so there must be some other reason for the scowl still on his handsome face. Detracted from those pretty green eyes, she thought abstractedly. “More than I like. Papa Davis says we’re screwing up his logistics schedules. O’Bannon out at Sher’s is late reporting in. The Count’s on the warpath because his XO’s helping you with inspections –“
    “And he’ll be back on the reservation in no time. I’m finished.” Lieutenant Callista, the popular second-in-command of the Special Operations platoon, was smiling as he entered the office. “I’ll get Julian off your back. How’d it go, Dixie?”
    “All quiet, Del,” she grinned back. “Hey, why didn’t O’Bannon –“
    The elf rolled his blue eyes ceilingward. “Stopped off for a Guinness. I snarled at him a little. Everything’s fine now.”
    Faerien snorted. “Sure, for you. You have any idea where Alex is?”
    Delias frowned. “Isn’t he with Hassan?” The Intelligence Officer was spending a lot of time with Captain Jones these days.
    The sergeant spoke up. “No, sir. Lieutenant al-Omani hasn’t been around since this morning. Last person to see him was Gudri at the Armory. Captain Jones left at lunch by himself – didn’t say where he was going. And he doesn’t answer his comm.”
    “Well, somebody better find him. We got a Council message wanting him and Violet to go check someone out.”
    “Violet’s in the mess hall,” put in Dixie. “I just came from there. He’s pestering the cooks again.”
    “Doesn’t help. I can’t just be running off –“
    “I can.” Ari ben Jacob spoke quietly, unless she was celebrating, but always with authority. She had sounded like that all her military career. She had also had the ability to move quietly all her military career. It was positively unnerving at times. “And since I outrank you, Fairy, you are hereby off the hook.”
    “Thanks, Captain.” The lieutenant’s relief was palpable. “But who’ll take Vi? He won’t run off with just anyone.”
    "Where’s Rushy?” asked Dixie.
    “Somewhere out plugging targets with her crossbow, no doubt.” Delias turned to the sergeant. “Kase, why don’t you go? You know how he is about you.”
    “Oh, I can’t - I’m on duty.”
    “Go ahead, Kase,” implored Faerien. “I’ll find someone to cover things. Easier to do that.”
    "Well… all right, sir.”
    Ari smiled. “See how easy that was, Fairy?
    “I owe you one, sir.”
    The two women headed out into the afternoon sunlight. After quick see-you-laters, Dixie and Delias followed suit. Lieutenant Faerien Lothlan exhaled deeply and gratefully, and settled back at the desk. Now there was only Sergeant Davis – Papa – to deal with. Fairy figured he might live through his duty shift yet.


2 November 1905 hours
A road near Lady Sher’s residence

    Dusk had long since given way to darkness. Stars spread a scintillating cloak across the sky, sparkling brilliantly in the moonless night. The dark figure at the road’s edge paused for a moment to appreciate the spectacle. There was time, right now, to pause and reflect; everything was going smoothly. The messages had been accepted as genuine; the right people were on duty; and the five troopers’ back at the residence had never known what had hit them. The poison was just as promised – extremely fast-acting. And quite lethal. This would most certainly get the target’s attention. A small amount of satisfaction, even enjoyment, was definitely permissible. It was, after all, going to be a most beautiful night.
Last edited by Topaz on Mon Jun 28, 2004 2:31 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Part 3

2 November 2100 hours
The grounds of Lady Sher’s residence

    At first the sergeant thought they were asleep. But on duty? And all three of them? And where was O’Bannon? She signaled her own troops to stand alert and, sword drawn, stepped quickly over to the bodies sprawled on the grass under the tree.
    The cold white light of the glowlamp flickered over darkly-colored glass. She nudged a green bottle with the longsword’s tip. Tan label. Imported. She knelt beside a crumpled red-haired form and touched her fingers carefully to the carotid artery in the neck. Then she checked the other two.
    She straightened and made a hand sign. Two Guardsmen came trotting up, weapons ready. “Check the house. Now. Stay together. Full alert. Go!” she hissed, then, sword sheathed, loped quickly back across the lawn. She’d take her other two and check the grounds, but she was afraid she already knew what she would find. There wasn’t anything she could do for the troopers lying on the grass. She just hoped that wherever O’Bannon was now, they’d have Guinness. As she ran, she reached into her belt pouch and triggered the magical charm that would alert Guards headquarters.

2 November 2120 hours
A road twenty leagues northwest of Atrebla Lake

    It was the jolting of the wagon that finally brought her to consciousness. She kept her eyes closed, becoming slowly more aware of her surroundings. She was lying on her side, on some sort of blanket, with what felt like another draped completely over her. Her hands and feet were tied – expertly, as she could feel no give to the bindings. She was gagged for good measure.
    Her head swam a little, but she felt no pain. No injuries… just some stiffness from her position. She had been lying like this for a while, then.
    She decided to essay a quick glance. Dark… well, she had expected that. But no sign of light under the edges or through the weave. Then it was night. How long had she –
    A soft command from somewhere over her head, and she felt the motion of the wagon slow, then stop. Watchful under half-closed lids, she heard the driver turn in his seat and step into the wagon bed. She could sense no other movements. Probably just the one, then. The blanket was suddenly flung back, and she shut her eyes.
    “No point in pretending, Kase.” She knew that voice. “We knew when the spell would wear off. Hope you’re not too uncomfortable?”
    She opened her eyes. Starlight outlined the cloaked figure crouched over her. She couldn’t see the face, but she didn’t need to. “Oh sorry – can’t talk.” A slurry of angry brrrrs sounded near her head, and she glanced over towards the left side of the wagon. Another blanket was draped over a largish bushel-sized object, which at present was emitting unfriendly noises.
    “There, now, little one – relax. You’ll be out soon.” The cloaked figure spoke soothingly. It didn’t seem to mollify what was under the blanket, but the brrrrs dropped to a lower tone. “He’ll be all right.” This to her. “You will be too. Don’t worry, it’s not you we want.” The blanket was replaced, and she heard the planks creak quietly as the driver returned to the front seat.
    She felt the wagon lurch forward, and realized she had no idea where she was. “We?” Then that meant… oh gods, Alex had to be warned. She lay as quietly as possible, trying to conserve her strength.
Last edited by Topaz on Wed Jun 30, 2004 1:08 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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2 November 2155 hours
Operations Room – Guards HQ – the Beacon

    “Organized chaos,” growled the minotaur in a low voice.
    Mewlip nodded around his mug of tea. It was cold. He grimaced and set it down. He could have threaded through the crowd thronging the Ops Room and gotten it fresh from the outer office, but he had a feeling he’d miss something important. Besides, it was dangerous out there.
    Through the half-open doorway a loud and imperious voice managed to ride over even the noise in Ops. Mewlip winced as the harangue began again. “I don’t care where in all the Nine Bloody Hells the beastie’s run off to, I want His Bloody Almighty Self in here right bleeding now! I have a bleeding right to know just what you so-called Guards are doing to protect Sher from that bloody addlebrained twit and her alleged son, and –“
    “Lady Amon – Le – I assure you Captain Jones is doing all he can…” Dixie Beauregard’s calm voice was having no audible effect on the torrent. A sergeant near the door eased it quietly shut, marginally reducing the decibel level. Several pairs of eyes glanced gratefully in his direction.
    Across the room, Alex was talking quietly with Ghorann, Ari ben Jacob, and a bristle-bearded dwarf in a Guards Captain uniform. Worry showed in his eyes, but his voice was under tight control as he shook his head. “We don’t know yet, Angmar. Kase, Hassan, and Peter… Julian’s checking on Del now, but –“
    The back door opened to admit a scowling Julian derKorst, who strode immediately to the other captains. “Nothing,” he admitted to their questioning looks. “Left word he was going to check a report of suspicious types up the Valley. That was over three hours ago.”
    “I don’t like any of this,” pronounced Captain Ghorann.
    Over at the edge of the room, Sergeant Mewlip found himself in complete agreement.


2 November 2200 hours
A patch of woods two leagues southeast of Kaleb Mountain


    The darkness was working for them now. The wagon was pulling up the rising slope in the distance, hidden in the night; but the road from here on had no turn—offs. Time to stop and make a call.
    It had been a wearying pursuit up the Valley, keeping enough distance not to be discovered without losing the quarry’s track. Without Lieutenant Peter Penkovskiy’s sensitive nose, it would have been impossible. There were, thought the young officer rather smugly, certain advantages to being a werewolf. The disadvantages involved all-too-interesting assignments, and sore paws.
    His companion was crouched by the stream where Peter had just slaked his thirst with icy water. If anything, the other’s feet would be worse than the wolf’s. Extra weapons, and an ammo box… but the dark eyes were still intent and alert.
    Peter scanned the area with wolf sight one last time, green eyes glowing, then he nodded at his companion. The other bent over a small glowing box and, quietly and rapidly, began to speak.


2 November 2206 hours
Operations Room – Guards HQ the Beacon


    “That’s it, then. Angmar, Company B holds the Beacon. Julian, Ari, have your people in the courtyard in ten minutes. Ghorann, Company A stands on five-minute alert – you’re the commander and the shield now. Any questions?” Scarcely a pause. “Good. Get going.”
    The Guards captains shared a quick look. Twenty-four hours ago they had glimpsed steel behind the blue-green eyes. Tonight they were seeing star-fire… and the professionals decided they liked what they saw. Those orders would be carried out with a will.
    The mood in Ops had changed, too, from confusion to purpose. Quietly and efficiently the counterstrike was being organized. The Guards had been beaten up and backstabbed enough. Now they had a target – and this one was personal.
    The quiet efficiency was suddenly interrupted by the blinking lights and soft tones of an incoming comm message. Alex broke off his instructions to the staff and grabbed the comm box.
    “Yea, what –“ He stopped and listened, his already taut features becoming even more intense. “I see.” A long pause. “How do I know they’re all right?” Another pause. “Such as?”
    This time the color left his face. “Surely you know I can’t –“ One more pause. “When?… All right, I’ll expect it.”
    He slowly put down the comm box, then looked up at the officers gathered around expectantly. “Folks… we have a problem.”
    Thirty minutes later Captain Alex Jones walked away from the Shadow Gate in Keirin’s office. The look on his face was grim.
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Part 4

3 November 0140 hours
Eastern slop of Klanb Mountain


    “They want what?” The shock in Harry Lone Eagle’s voice was understandable, if somewhat out of character for the big quiet sergeant. It was mirrored in the expressions of the rest of the command group huddled at the edge of the pines.
    Alex’s voice was surprisingly level. “Starfox, sergeant. They want a starship. My starship.”
    “I don’t understand, Alex. Even if there’s anyone else up there with him – and we don’t know that – why can’t we just go and take them out?”
    Captain Jones gave Captain ben Jacob a very old-fashioned look. “It’s really quite simple, Ari. Even if – and there’s no guarantee – we could protect Kase and Violet, that’s not the real problem.” The shielded lantern illuminated several raised eyebrows. “Our friend says he and his associates have planted magical triggers within the Beacon. If anything goes wrong… they’ll set off implosion spells.”
    From the horrified looks exchanged among the officers, he couldn’t have gotten their attention more thoroughly if he’d dropped a Trikit blue howler into their midst. Even derKorst looked noticeably pale. But the aristocrat was the first to recover from the shock.
    “All right, then… Alex-“ There was no disdain in the voice now. “What’s the plan?”
    For the first time that night, Captain Jones grinned. “Julian – I thought you’d never ask…”


3 November 0235 hours
Western slope of Klanb Mountain

    The dark forms materialized out of the even darker tree-line. One moment there had been nothing there. The next moment half a dozen shapes were sweeping soundlessly across the rocks, hugging the shadows as they moved uphill. In less than two minutes they had disappeared again, blending with the terrain so well that even the night-birds resumed their cries. Behind the shelter of an overhanging ledge, a finger pressed a glowing button.


3 November 0238 hours
Southeastern slope of Klanb Mountain

    “They’re in place, sir. No contact.”
    Ari nodded to Drushak. “Start the parade, Lieutenant.”
    The minotaur turned to the two platoon commanders next to him. “Move out. Hold at your check points.” The lieutenants disappeared into the night. Grunting in satisfaction, the big creature turned back to his company commander. “Captain… you’re sure you’ll be all right?”
    Blue eyes twinkled in the starlight. “I’ll be fine, Dru. Harry won’t let anything happen to me – I still owe him a rematch at five-card stud. Right, Sarge?” The big quiet man was a study in impassiveness, but a grin slid sideways across the copper-colored face.
    Ari reached out and clasped Drushak’s massive upper arm. “See you on top.” Releasing him, she stepped quickly off into the darkness to the north, moving along the rocky slope with her squad, and was quickly lost in the night. Dru stared after her a long moment, then pivoted and set off towards the rendezvous, wondering what made humans so blasted self-assured.


3 November 0240 hours
North slope of Klanb Mountain

    At the moment, one particular human was feeling a great deal less than self-assured. He was tired, cold, and more than a little nervous. But he and his partner were in place. From their vantagepoint in the cleft in the rock column, he could just make out the last twenty yards of the foot-trail where it reached the edge of the clear mountaintop. He still couldn’t believe they had reached here on time and undetected. But everything looked good. Now all they had to do was wait. He relaxed and began to uncrate the ammunition.
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3 November 0430 hours
South slope of Klanb Mountain

    Drushak checked the chronometer. Useful gadget, at times. He glanced, almost instinctively, overhead at the stars. It was time.
    His arm touched the shoulder of the trooper crouched beside him. The elf sang out a quick trill, the cry of a hunting bird. Answering trills came from either side in the darkness. Silently and purposefully, the bulk of Company C began to make their way uphill.


3 November 0435 hours
Summit of Klanb Mountain

    It was cold, but not unbearably so. The air was still, and the starlight brilliant. Every shadow was sharp-lined, and every sound carried… even the faint rustle of two platoons of Guards creeping up the hill. The south slope, eh? How obvious. Then there would be another, more deadly threat. The cloaked figure checked his captives’ cages, bonds, and blankets one last time, then settled into the rocks to await reinforcement.


3 November 0600 hours
East slope of Klanb Mountain

    The false dawn was lighting the tops of the eastern range, their high snowfields beginning to glow with an unearthly blue-white light. The stars still burned brightly in the palling sky. Below, the land lay shrouded in darkness still. Sergeant Harry Lone Eagle always loved these times: they made him feel one with the universe. He stood for a long moment, thanking the spirits for their blessings.
    He felt the knife blade slip swiftly and expertly between the third and fourth ribs. Surprise lasted only a second, but he had time to be grateful to his assassin for the quick and professional kill. Then his eyes closed for the last time.
    The knife was withdrawn and wiped clean on Harry’s shirt, a mark of the honor of the slain. “Sorry, Harry.” The voice was a whisper. “May your spirit walk the winds.” The faint sound of footsteps died away up the hill and were lost in stillness.


3 November 0618 hours
East slope of Klanb Mountain

    “Yes. I understand. I will be on top in ten minutes. I will activate Starfox now.”
    Alex Jones looked at the comm unit for long seconds, then punched in a series of numbers. He began to walk up the path, glancing all around him as he spoke, “Starfox, Alexander Jones. Actual Six. Code Parliel. Please confirm. Alex standing by.”


3 November 0620 hours
Operations Room – Guards HQ – the Beacon

    “That’s it, m’Lord. He’s activated Starfox.”
    Lord Keirin’s look was anything but reassured. His brows furrowed for a moment, then fixed their penetrating stare at the Guards lieutenant beside him. “Will this work, Dixie?”
    Her eyes met his, firmly and steadily. “Yes, sir!” A little less intense: “My Lord, you picked him. Trust him.”
    Keirin looked within her for a long moment; then appearantly satisfied, he sat down, very unlordly, on the edge of the desk. “All right, people –“ There was a faint smile on his lips. “Let’s leave it to the experts.”
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(Part 5)

3 November 0630 hours
Summit of Klanb Mountain

    At exactly the appointed time, Alex Jones stepped onto the mountaintop.
    There was absolutely nothing he saw that surprised him. The more or less flat clearing was at least a hundred yards long and a little less across, speckled with boulders and the occasional vine thicket. Rock outcroppings dotted the perimeter at irregular intervals, their eastern sides beginning to reflect the sunrise at Alex’s back.
    About thirty yards into the summit was a pile of crates, bundles, and blanket-draped objects. As Alex looked at the collection, a loud and welcoming cheerEEEPPP! Burst from somewhere in the pile. Violet, at least, was in his usual form.
    "Stay right there, Captain.” The voice came from somewhere in the rocks to the left. “Don’t move a muscle.”
    Alex complied, and heard a feint rustle as someone made his or her way down to the tableland. A few seconds later, a slim figure in a cloak over a Guards Lieutenant’s uniform emerged from the shadows. Alex kept very still, hoping the crossbow being carried casually and expertly by the Lieutenant didn’t have a hair-trigger. After all, it was aimed directly at him.


3 November 0635 hours
South slope of Klanb Mountain

    It was time. “Now!” growled the lieutenant. Without waiting to see if his order would be followed, the huge figure vaulted over the rock ledge, claymore in hand. Behind him, sixty-three Guards troopers poured uphill. This time they weren’t trying to be silent.


3 November 0635 hours
Summit of Klanb Mountain

    For some reason, the noise from downhill didn’t seem to disconcert the lieutenant. “That would be Drushak. You’ll forgive me if I attend to some pressing business, Captain?”
    Alex felt the presence behind him a moment before he felt the blade on the side of his neck. The lieutenant smiled. “Don’t go away.” He lowered his crossbow and reached inside his cloak, pulling out a palm-sized box with a glowing face. He pressed his hand to the glow and it went out. To the south, and east, the ground shook.


3 November 0638 hours
East slope of Klanb Mountain

    There had been no warning. Suddenly the rocks near the summit had erupted in a line of bright flashes, and then what seemed like half the mountaintop had come hurtling down on the troopers' heads. Some rocks could be dodged, as Guardsmen hit the earth and ducked for cover. Some could not. From all along the slope came shouts and cries. The surviving officers and non-coms called the advance to a halt.


3 November 0640 hours
Near the summit of Klanb Mountain

    Sergeant Rushy checked to see if any of her bones were broken. That last explosion had been close. Finding nothing important damaged – hobbits were tougher than they looked – she turned to her weapons. They didn’t look fragile… but with this high-tech stuff, you never knew.


3 November 0640 hours
Summit of Klanb Mountain

    Sunrise was now only minutes away. Over the snow-capped peaks of the Iron Mountains to the east glowing reds and yellows had begun to fill the edge of the sky. Fogs still filled the Atrebla Valley, stretching like a river of mist for twenty leagues north and south far below.
    Up here, though, the morning air was bright and cold. Now that her coverings had been removed, Sergeant Ekasia Winthor could see everything in clear, sharp detail: the lieutenant beside her, one hand guiding her by the elbow, the other with a dagger lodged casually against the side of her neck; the pile of crates in front of her, topped by a largish cage containing an apparently extremely irate fairy-dragon; the two captains twenty yards away, one with a knife to the other’s neck; and the great dark shape that swiftly and suddenly blocked the sunrise, filling the air off the mountaintop to the east…
    “Ah.” There was satisfaction in the lieutenant’s voice. “There’s our ride.”


3 November 0640 hours
Near the summit of Klanb Mountain

    The dark man saw the blue-gray mass of the ship come sliding out of the sunrise. Now, then. He checked his weapon one last time, then glanced over his shoulder. The wolf was nowhere to be seen. Well, Peter would have to look after himself.


3 November 0641 hours
Summit of Klanb Mountain

    Despite himself, the lieutenant was a little awed. Starfox was big. The huge spearhead shape almost completely filled the space over the mountaintop clearing. Well, so much the better. This would be an unexpected – but not entirely unwelcome – prize. He turned to Alex Jones. “Thank you, Captain. I always said you were a man of your word. Now… the hatch?”
    "Very easy,” said the quiet voice behind Alex’s ear. He raised the comm box so that his actions would be entirely visible, then pressed a button. Two things happened immediately.
    The first was the opening of a twenty-foot wide hatch on the underslope of the ship, the two sections sliding almost noiselessly apart into the hull, followed by a gray ramp extending out and downwards. Within the portal soft white lights gleamed in the interior compartment.
    The second was the equally almost-noiseless sound of boots sprinting across the mountaintop, as the troopers of the Special Operations platoon charged out of the shadows of the western rim.
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Part 6

3 November 0643 hours
Summit of Klanb Mountain

    Alex felt the knife press more tightly against his neck tendons. “Don’t even.” No panic in that voice. He was urged forward, up onto the front of the ramp.
    The lieutenant met them there. Releasing Kase’s elbow – but keeping the dagger in place – he swiveled slightly, pulled what looked like an amulet from beneath his cloak, and stretched out his left arm at the advancing troopers.
    It was as if the rising sun had come to rest on the mountain. Fireballs exploded all along the clearing, sweeping a wave of flame across the soldiers, who screamed and pivoted in a grotesque danse macabre as the magical fire torched their clothing and their bodies.
    The fireballs touched off the crates laid on the ground, and the bursts of high explosives added their dreadful punctuation to the cacophony of mayhem beneath the underbelly of the ship. In the process, a largish cage was blown upwards and smashed against the smoothly curving hull. Starfox hung solid and motionless overhead, unperturbed.
    A hand slid Alex’s energy pistol from its holster, and a second later the pressure of the blade on his neck ceased. “I’ll have that comm box now, Captain. Turn round very slowly.”
    He turned. The blue eyes were very steady. So was the pistol leveled at his chest. “Why, Ari?”
    Captain ben Jacob didn’t even blink. “We don’t have time for that. The comm box. Now.” Slowly and carefully Captain Jones extended his arm. And then a howling mass of fangs and fur crashed into Ari, knocking her to the ground. There was a sudden bright flash of yellow fire.


3 November 0644 hours
Near the summit of Klanb Mountain

    The gorge was trying to rise in his throat at the apparent slaughter beyond his target, but there was no time to be sick. Carefully he sighted the weapon and pulled firmly on the trigger. As he felt the slight jolt of the crossbow’s release the target blurred with movement and shifted. That one would miss. Cursing, Lieutenant Hassan al-Omani reached in a swift fluid motion or a second bolt and began to fit it to his weapon.
    Forty yards away the Guards corporal had a very limited view and an even more limited understanding of what was going on. He did understand that his platoon had never been ordered up the hill; that when he went out to reconnoiter he had found his sergeant major dead; that he had just seen what looked like his company commander go down; and that he had a clear shot as someone he didn’t know reloading a crossbow in the rocks above him. The arrow was already nocked. A soft twang of the string, and the figure in the rocks jerked and dropped from sight.


3 November 0645 hours
Summit of Klanb Mountain

    Things were happening very quickly now. Ari ben Jacob was struggling out from under the ruined body of the wolf, who was still trying to reach her with his jaws. Hassan’s bolt had knocked the comm box from Alex’s hand, but before he could dive to retrieve it Delias Callista’s voice cut through the uproar.
    “Halt, Captain! Or she dies.” He swung his head. The lieutenant still had Sergeant Winthor at daggerpoint. “Leave it. On the ship. Now!”
    There didn’t seem to be a lot of options. Ari was rising to her feet now, pistol still in hand. Captain Jones began to follow the lieutenant and his hostage up into the ship. In a few seconds they had reached the open hatch. Below them Ari picked up the comm box and turned to ascend the ramp.
    Red fire flashed from a clump of rocks to the right. Captain ben Jacob screamed once and spun as the energy beam lanced into her side, a second beam bursting in sparks on the edge of the ramp as the target dropped. Wounded, Ari was still formidable. Yellow-white energy flashed from her hand and exploded blindingly in a shower of rock fragments against the outcropping. She struggled to regain her feet.
    Callista’s shout was harsh. “Inside!” He jerked Kase’s body up against the hatch coaming. Alex leapt upward into the compartment and spun around in time to see Delias slap the hatch control panel and pull the sergeant inside. The eyes were blue ice. “Captain, you will conduct us to the bridge.” A slight humorless smile. “Carefully. One false move…” There was not the slightest doubt in Alex’s mind that his opponent was in deadly earnest.
    He glanced around the white-lit compartment. All three inner locks were closed. He moved toward the aft lock as the ramp began to retract.


3 November 0646 hours
Summit of Klanb Mountain

    It looked worse than it was. Fully a dozen Special Ops troopers were down, dead or seriously hurt by the fireballs and explosives. But their dark night clothing was fire resistant and tough, and had been magically enhanced for this mission, just in case. A handful were blending over their fallen comrades, checking their injuries, most of the rest, sheltered by the rocks they had managed to dice behind, were regaining their vision and beginning to sort out the battlefield. A few were already moving forward under the huge blue-gray canopy into the sunrise, heading for the landing ramp.
    Their commander didn’t have the sun in his eyes. As Callista had raised his arm Julian derKorst had flung himself down and sideways, rolling left out of the probable line of fire, and was now running swiftly forward in the shadow of the ramp. He couldn’t see what was happening on the other side, but he could see the flashes of energy fire being exchanged ahead of him. He didn’t need to look at his platoon to know some were down, some forever. He drew his gladius – longer swords would just get in the way at close quarters – sidestepped deftly around the edge of the ramp, and spotted his target.
    Ari was badly hurt, but she knelt on the foot of the rising ramp, still firing at her attacker in the rocks, hoping whoever it was wouldn’t risk firing into the ship. Just a few seconds now, and everything would –
    Her thoughts and her fire – and her balance – were rudely interrupted by the impact of five pounds of hurtling, screeching, and obviously infuriated fairy dragon. Ari was knocked sideways by the unexpected blow and toppled off the rising panel, falling painfully to the ground. Before she had time to roll back to a firing position she felt the swift sharp pain explode inside her. Blackness was merciful and swift.
    Julian didn’t even stop to pull the foot of steel out of ben Jacob’s chest. With scarcely a pause for thought he leaped upwards and grabbed for the rim of the ramp. His hands closed on the metal sidebar, and he threw himself over onto the ramp surface, then dove into the opening above him. A few seconds later, the hatch doors closed.
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Part 7

3 November 0647 hours
Lower bay – Satrship Starfox

    In the soft off-white lights Delias Callista could see the aft portion of the lower bay stretching a full hundred feet across the starship, with passageways open in the after bulkheads and a large cleared passage to his left leading forward between the cargo airlocks. More immediately interesting, however, was the storage hatch in the bulkhead directly in front of him, just to the left of the stairway leading upwards. Unlike most such hatches, this one was not labeled to identify its contents. Instead, the recessed release handle was merely outlined in red.
    Keeping the dagger to Sergeant Winthor’s neck, he moved across carefully to the red handle and opened the hatch. He was rewarded with the sight of a large selection of weapons: energy and projectile, pistols and rifles and launchers. His trained eyes quickly picked out a high-power energy pistol – Amarian make, a recent model with variable settings – and a second later he was able to push Kase back across the narrow end of the compartment into Alex, covering both with the pistol before they could react.
    “Well.” There was actual satisfaction in the elf’s voice. “This is so much easier on all of us, don’t you think?” To Kase: “I’m sorry about having to discomfort you, Ekasia – but I’m sure you understand. Now – “ The muzzle of the pistol jerked left slightly, twice, towards the stairway. “- let’s go upstairs.”


3 November 0649 hours
Port airlock – lower bay – Starship Starfox

    The inner hatch slid open noiselessly. Thank the gods this high-tech machine used color-coded symbols for its controls. Otherwise Julian derKorst might have been stuck in this blasted little empty room till someone came and got him. Thanks, too, that he had noticed the aft hatch close as he had tumbled into the compartment. It was the forward hatch he now stepped through.
    He moved carefully around the airlock bulkhead into the center passage of the lower bay. The compartment was large and well lit, making stealth absolutely necessary. He heard voices out of sight down on his right, towards the rear of the ship; then they faded, to be replaced with the sound of footsteps and a hatch closing. Like a cobra, he slithered along the airlock bulkhead aft. He eased around a corner and saw a stairway leading upwards… and an open storage hatch next to it.


3 November 0650 hours
Summit of Klanb Mountain

    Lieutenant Drushak couldn’t remember a fight quite like this one. Usually you either won or lost, and the casualty list tended to reflect the relative numbers and strengths of the opposing sides. But this…
    Guards troopers were everywhere on the stony plateau. Some were lying burnt or bloody on the ground. Some were quickly and carefully moving arm-sized chunks of gray material – the high-explosive that had failed to detonate – away from all the other personnel, and out from under the starship. Medics were tending the wounded who seemed to have a likely chance of survival. But Starfox still hung overhead: stolid, impenetrable… with his commander, and apparently other Guards – and at least one enemy – still on board.
    The big officer crossed through the confusion and shouts to the ground near the hatch on the ship's port side. A hobbit – her face blackened and bloodied by flashfire – was crouched low over a body in a Guards Captain’s uniform, with a gladius protruding from the chest. Ten feet away two medics were working on a bloody furry body, which occasionally screamed words unfamiliar to the minotaur. He didn’t recognize the language, but guessed that Lieutenant Penkovskiy was not being complimentary. Drushak hoped Peter would live long enough to return the favor and buy his medics a drink.
    Sergeant Rushy looked up at her surviving commanding officer. There was a woundedness in her eyes that had nothing to do with her injuries. “Sir… I didn’t… I mean, I didn’t think…” She shook her head. “I had to… sir.” The look in her eyes was now pleading.
    There was a rush of multicolored wings. Pink and purple scales settled tenderly on her shoulder, and violet eyes glowed against her neck. Drushak bent and gently brushed the curly brown hair – and the tears on the cheek – and said, softly, “Go get some rest, Rushy.” The violet eyes looked up at him. “Stay with her, little one.” The hobbit rose, a little unsteadily; and Drushak carefully removed the energy rifle from her arms. She began to make her way towards a bare spot near the edge of the plateau.
    A red-eyed, blue-green-skinned horror with large yellow fangs and Guards Sergeant’s tabs on his shoulders approached and saluted. The hobgoblin’s Special Ops night-gear was streaked with blood. Drushak hoped it wasn’t his own. “Report, Bloodfang?”


3 November 0652 hours
Forward port ladder – main bay – Starship Starfox

    The five-foot high stairway led up to a hatch in the forward bulkhead of the cavernous main bay. Alex mounted the steps and pressed the green panel to open the hatch to the wardroom. As the hatch slid into the port bulkhead he glanced down and behind him at the sergeant, and the lieutenant behind her. Ninety feet aft, he caught a glimpse of a figure in Special Ops night-gear emerging from the after port deck hatch.
    Quickly he jerked his head around to stare into the wardroom. “What the blazes…?!” He stepped swiftly inside the hatch.
    Behind him he heard a grunt as Kase was shoved quickly and roughly upwards. Within a second, all three were standing in Starfox’s wardroom… where everything was normal and calm. The hatch to the main bay shut automatically behind them.
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3 November 0659 hours
Operations Room – Guards HQ – the Beacon

    “Blast it!” There were a couple of further outbursts from Lord Keirin, which most of the Ops staff were quite happy not to be able to translate. Obviously the report from Klanb Mountain had not been good.
    Until to contain himself, the dark elf slammed down the comm box onto the desk and strode in barely contained fury out the door into the courtyard. The glare of the early morning sun almost caused him to run full-tilt into the red-robed mage hurrying towards the side door.
    The wizard caught him by the shoulders. “Whoa, there, m’Lord –“ He saw the murderous look in Keirin’s eyes – luckily, he noticed, directed at no one in particular – and said carefully, “Arthona, Keirin – it’s me.” Then: “How can I help?”


3 November 0702 hours
Wardroom – Starship Starfox

    The image on the vid screen behind Alex was picturesque, even beautiful: yellow-white cliffs topped with emerald- and olive-green, towering over a sapphire-blue sea. It might have been relaxing had he been looking at it. At the moment, however, his entire attention was focused on Lieutenant Callista on the sofa across the low table, who seemed quite relaxed himself. Actually, a good bit of Alex’s attention was focused on the Amari Model 41 in Callista’s left hand – which was currently aimed approximately at the center of Alex’s chest. It did, the half-elf admitted to himself, tend to keep one focused.
    “Oh, no, my dear Captain,” Delias was saying, “you misunderstand. Starfox is really of no importance to my superior. Not, I grant you, that she is not a magnificent vessel.” The elf allowed more than a bit of admiration to fill his ice-blue eyes. “She could be quite useful in the proper hands… mine, for instance. Ah –“ Callista was obviously enjoying the surprise on his captive’s face. “- did you not know I am an experienced starship pilot? Oh, well, neither did those fools at the Beacon.” The smile was quite smug. “But then there’s quite a lot they didn’t know.”
    “Ari ben Jacob, for instance?” Alex deliberately let the strain show in his voice.
    “Well, now, Ari was indeed a loyal officer, and a good soldier. But Sabrar spared her brother’s life, many years ago – and there was a condition attached. She has now fulfilled her obligation. Pity she’ll not be around to appreciate the payoff.”
    Raised eyebrows – “Which is?”
    Delias Callista was all smiles. “Why, you, my good Captain. You yourself. After all, you have the Romany skill of gating through space-time… and it’s not magical, so you can’t be stopped by magical powers. If nothing else, you are much too great a potential threat to my superior to be allowed to run lose. But we intend not to eliminate you… but to use you.” The smile was ice-cold now.
    “Then you can go and –“ The sudden spurt of energy from the pistol sliced through the upper edge of Alex’s right arm and put a sudden end to his suggestion. Sweat stood out immediately on his forehead. Gritting his teeth, he gasped, “Don’t think I won’t make you shoot me.”
    “Oh, Captain, Captain.” Callista was explaining the all-too-obvious. “That was just a warning. Why would I want to kill you? You’re no use to Sabrar dead. And you’re far too loyal for us to get results from torture. Not yours, anyway.” He glanced meaningfully at Ekasia Winthor, bound and gagged in the chair to his right. “On the other hand – with the proper persuasion – I’m sure you could become… quite cooperative.” With a sudden swift motion he whipped the pistol across Kase’s face, raking and blooding the flesh; before she could even pull her head back upright, the pistol was centered again on Alex.
    There was absolutely no uncertainty – or remorse – in those cold eyes now. “Right, then, Captain. You will now tell Starfox to begin accepting my commands. How much the sergeant suffers… depends on how well you cooperate.”
    “I’ll see you in hell, Callista.”
    A smile. “Wouldn’t want the lady here to meet us there, now, would you? Do it now, please.” The verbal commands took eight seconds. “Thank you… Alex. Just Alex now, I suppose. Let’s go.” The model 41 directed him towards the forward hatch.
    “What now? You can control the whole ship by voice commands… except for the manual overrides, of course.” He hoped Kase was getting this.
    “True. But not the weapons. Especially the nuclear missiles. Proper targeting is so important… don’t you think?”
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(Part 8)

3 November 0719 hours
Summit of Klanb Mountain

    The whole business was bloody crazy, thought Drushak. Casualties – and bodies – were being cleaned up… but the ship still hovered above them, a constant reminder of unfinished business. What in the name of the Horned God had Alex Jones – and the rest of that skull-numbed command authority – been thinking of? This was a successful operation…? Then why –
    “Lieutenant!” The trooper’s voice was tight with alarm. “She’s moving!”
    The minautor raised his eyes. Overhead, in the bright cold clear morning sky, Starfox was turning, and lifting, and heading south. Down the Valley. Towards the Beacon. Drushak hurriedly raised his comm box, but before he could activate the controls, it began to speak. The voice belonged to Julian derKorst.


3 November 0720 hours
Operations Room – Guards HQ – the Beacon

    The words were terse. Captain Angmar – the “Ironhammer” – was manning the comm himself, but even the normally unperturbable dwarf seemed shaken by the incoming message.
    “Beacon, Beacon, this is derKorst. Starfox under hostile control. Jones is a hostage. Callista intends nuclear-weapon strike. Repeat, Callista intends nuclear-weapon strike. Probable target Beacon.”
    Lord Keirin grabbed the comm box out of Angmar’s hands. “Julian, this is Keirin. Where are you?”
    “On board, With Kase.” A pause. “And Alex.”
    No one had ever seen quite that look on Lord Keirin’s face before. But then, no one in the Ops Room had been in the wardroom of Starfox when Keirin and Alex had last discussed the possible consequences of duty.
    “Get out now, Julian. That’s an order.”
    A chuckle came through the electronics clearly. “I always admired your sense of humor, m’Lord. DerKorst out.”
    "Julian!” Keirin’s face was distraught. “Blast it, man…” But the channel was dead.
    He felt a gentle tug on his sleeve. Turning, he saw Arthona. “Uh… Colonel… allow me to make a suggestion.”


3 November 0724 hours
Wardroom – Starship Starfox

    Sergeant Winthor figured she’d been in worse situations. Trouble was, she couldn’t remember any. At least the gash across her cheek had stopped bleeding. And circulation was returning to her limbs since Captain derKorst had released her bonds. But she had to think. Something important…
    It hit. “Captain! The manual controls!” He looked at her. “Alex said… they override the voice commands. If we can get to them…”
    DerKorst was not currently an image of aristocratic sartorial perfection. Mud, blood, and sweat tended to obscure such qualities. But the hard voice brooked little argument. “Sergeant. The controls are on the bridge. Callista and Alex are on the bridge. Surprise is barely possible, but he’s familiar with these weapons. We’re not. And if he kills Captain Jones, we’ll never know how to stop the missile.”
    “Then let’s get him off the bridge – and away from Alex.” When the occasion required, Kase was quite capable of standing up to superior ranks – even Julian. And by now she was just plain mad. Things had begun, after all, to get a little personal. Quickly she told derKorst what she had in mind.
    Approval showed in the dark eyes, and respect in the smooth voice. “Sergeant – when this is over, remind me to recommend your posting to a higher rank. If we live,” he added as he hurried across the carpet to the nearest hatch to the main bay.
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3 November 0731
Bridge – Starship Starfox

    The view, Delias Callista had to admit, was tremendous. Through the five big transparent ports he could see the whole southern Atrebla Valley stretching out in front of him beyond the starship’s long nose. The morning mists had largely dissipated, and he could clearly see the forests and fields two miles below, bordered in the distance by the high irregular walls of the Iron Mountains on each side, and split in the middle by the ribbon of water that sparkled occasionally in the morning sunlight and led south to the lake which was, he knew, almost coming to the horizon. As soon as he had a visual fix on the target he could initiate missile launch. All that he wanted was an air-burst, and for that real accuracy wasn’t required. Best to go ahead and get the missile ready.
    Callista grinned. This little addition of his to the plan ought to impress Sabrar. Nothing like a small demonstration of his new toy’s powers… and his.
    He glanced briefly over his right shoulder. Twenty feet away Alex Jones was still lying on top of the deck hatch, his wrists bound behind his back and attached to the lifting handle. Only a little blood showed on his scalp where the pistol had coshed him. And the shoulder wound wasn’t going to do anything interesting. Satisfied, the elf turned to the weapons panel and began to press the controls.


3 November 0733 hours
Missile bay – Starship Starfox

    The missile assembly and launch functions on Starfox were fully automated. Clamps descended from overhead tracks to grasp engine, guidance, and payload sections, then smoothly began to move them to the mating rack. In less than four minutes, the assembled missile would be slid into the port launching chamber – and be ready.


3 November 0733 hours
Bridge – Starship Starfox

    A yellow light began flashing on the engineering panel. What the –
    “Hull integrity breached.” Starfox’s voice was soft, but it got Callista’s attention. A quick check of the panel – a main bay hatch was open. But how? Suspicion began to dawn in the elf’s mind – the girl!
    Well, that could be fixed. Quickly he turned to the weapons panel, touched three controls, then ran towards the aft hatchway. Jones wasn’t going anywhere, and the missile would now launch automatically when it finished cycling the bay. Map coordinates would have to do. Now he had to put the little meddler into storage and get that hatch closed so he could lift away safely. How she’d gotten loose, he didn’t know… but he could think of a few ways to make her regret it.


3 November 0743 hours
Courtyard – Guards HQ – the Beacon

    “I still don’t like it.” Keirin’s tone was pained, and frustrated.
    “M’Lord, we don’t have time for this. You and I both know you’re needed here. Who else can divert the missile? Besides…” The mage grinned. “I promised Alex I’d visit Starfox. You’ve already been.”
    The dark elf held Arthona’s arm briefly. “Go, then. Ready for the coordinates?”
    Arthona nodded and opened his mind to Keirin’s visualization. You had to know not only where you were, but where you were going…
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3 November 0735 hours
Wardroom – Starship Starfox

    So. The half-breed troublemaker had managed to get free after all. No problem. Callista hit the starboard aft hatch controls and crouched, pistol out and ready.
    The bright light and the cold air were a sudden rush to his senses, but he was scanning every inch of the main bay that he could see. Which, right now, was well over a hundred feet aft to the rear bulkhead, and about fifty feet across the huge compartment. Well, it would have to do. Carefully he began to ease down the short ladder.
    Arthona saw the mental image of the ship’s wardroom blur, then swim into a steadier focus. The feel and taste of the unfamiliar environment told him it was real. He had time to appreciate, for a split second, what a comfortable room this might be, under better circumstances. Then he was diving off the big fox-and-star design on the carpet, trying to draw his rapier while dodging the energy blasts coming from the open hatchway.
    Callista had sensed, somehow, the new presence behind him. Dropping and spinning, he fired, once, twice; then he swung right and around the ladder railing towards the starboard side of the hull. As he landed, already crouched, a figure in black leaped out of the shadows from under the ladder. Callista fired again, and again, and was knocked backwards by a heavy body, towards the open hatch.


3 November 0736 hours
Main passage – Upper deck – Starship Starfox

    Alex was trying to run, but his legs didn’t seem to cooperate. That blow to his head must have scrambled some motor coordination. Not enough to keep him from utilizing twenty years of thieving skills to slip out of his bonds. But he knew Callista had gone aft – and Kase, and Julian, where there. He reached the wardroom doors and frantically actuated the controls.


3 November 0736 hours
Missile bay – Starship Starfox

    The missile had been correctly assembled, and was now sliding on the rails through the hatch into the launcher compartment. When it reached the end of the track it would take about twelve seconds to cycle through the lock-down and launch sequences. Targeting, through the ship’s computer, would require another twenty-five seconds or so. It was basically a fail-safe procedure.


3 November 0737 hours
Main Bay – Starship Starfox

    The elf in the lieutenant’s uniform grunted as he shoved the dark man’s inert body off his legs. Some people, he thought distractedly, just don’t know when to quit. More’s the pity. He lurched to his knees, pistol still in hand, at the very edge of the forty-foot hatchway, and glanced sharply upwards. But – almost – not in time.
    “You slimespawn.” The half-elf had no weapon in her hands, but that didn’t seem to concern her. She looked quite capable of ripping out Callista’s possibly nonexistent heart with her fingertips. “I’ll –“
    Callista leveled his pistol. “You’ll do nothing, my dear.” He smiled, very humorlessly. “Not until I say so.”
    Arthona had studied the magical arts for more years than he often cared to remember. If there was one thing he had learned, he thought briefly, it was when not to use them. There wasn’t time for incantations – and that pistol probably had a longer range than his beloved rapier. He shrugged, and dove through the hatch directly at Delias Callista.
    Alex Jones reached the hatch to the main bay just in time to see a red-robed figure vault outwards from the top of the aft ladder, and to see a quick burst of energy fire slam into the red robes – but not quick enough to stop the mage’s body from slamming down, hard, upon the kneeling elf. Grunting, the lieutenant tried to free himself from the tangle of bodies. He might have made it, too; but Ekasia Winthor’s boot smashed once, then twice, into the side of his head, and the impact caused him to lose the grip on his pistol, which went sailing out the hatchway into two miles of air. He began to roll sideways, but found himself gripped by two powerful hands and shoved backwards. Suddenly there was nothing at all between himself and the ground… except one hand grasping the hatch coaming, holding on desperately.
    He looked up into the face of Julian derKorst. The dark eyes regarded him unemotionally. “For the sake of the gods, Julian, do something!”
    Julian glanced over to Kase, whose own eyes seemed fixed on something best not talked about; and then at Alex. Captain Jones looked at Callista; then at derKorst; and nodded.
    There was a quick shriek of pain and despair. Julian derKorst looked thoughtfully at the machete in his hand; then plucked the severed elven hand off the hatch coaming it still grasped, wiped the blood from the machete on the still quivering flesh; and, with only a slight shudder of disgust, tossed them both out the hatch.
    The figure in the red robes stirred slightly, but Kase’s attention was fully occupied by Alex, who picked that moment to pitch down the ladder, landing headfirst on the main bay deck. She eased the blooded blond head up and was rewarded by a smile. “Thanks Kase…”
    Suddenly Starfox’s voice rang softly but clearly through the compartment, over the rush of the wind from the open hatch. “Missile is launched.” The big ship lurched slightly, confirming the awful truth of the announcement.
    Julian’s eyes met Kase’s – and there was only horror there. Then: “Kase.” Alex’s voice was weak but steady. “Go to the bridge. Here’s what you hit.” He quickly passed on a two-sequence code. “You have about… one minute.”


3 November 0740 hours
The skies over the Beacon

    The missile had lifted smoothly from the launching bay on top of Starfox. Now it was streaking through the skies, its target only seconds away down the Atrebla Valley. All systems were nominal.
    Communications impulses reached the guidance and control package. New targeting was received and verified. One-and-a-half seconds later, the missile altered course, from ground-parallel to ballistic, and its engines hit maximum thrust. Six seconds after that, the warhead exploded… nineteen miles above the planet’s surface.
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Post by Topaz »

(Part 9)

3 November 0742 hours
Courtyard – Guards HQ – the Beacon

    The incredibly bright star fire was gone now, only its afterimage remaining in the retinas of those who had glanced skyward. Keirin heard the shouts from inside the stone building; it sounded like exuberance, and relief, and he appreciated that – but for him, for the future, there was still an animosity, and therefor a problem. And there were the dead. He sighed deeply, then allowed himself a smile: for there were also the living. He turned and made his way into the celebration inside Guards Headquarters.
    Sergeant Mewlip was in the midst of passing around drinks to the cheering crowd when he saw his commanding officer come in the court yard door. Their eyes met in understanding; and, for once, the colonel raised his hand in salute to the sergeant; and the salute was returned, in respect, and both knew it was not for each other. Then the elven lord joined the throng and began to clap his subordinates heartily on the backs, knowing it would help to take the tension out of good soldiers. And the halfling staff sergeant returned to pouring drinks from a bottle of Alex’s good Velathian brandy, vastly relieved everything had worked out, and wondering what Lady Moonwalker would have to say to her headstrong son Sabrar – and when she would again require his own humble services.


3 November 0800 hours
Wardroom – Starship Starfox

    Getting everyone up the ladder from the main bay had been interesting, but Ekasia Winthor had managed it. She’d also managed to set the guidance controls to the chosen landing spot. She really was a marvel, thought Alex Jones; she’d kept her head the entire way, and done everything right when it counted. She deserved a promotion… or something.
    He tried to raise his head to tell this to Julian derKorst. Unfortunately, his head was no longer in Kase’s lap, as it had been for most of the last ten minutes. The extra distance it had to travel to rise made things a little blurry. “Julian…”
    The aristocrat was sprawled out on the sofa across the way. His torso and one leg were bandaged, and a little bloody; but Kase’s and Arthona’s ministrations – plus a very large dose of whiskey – seemed to have done wonders for his constitution. “Yes, Captain?”
    Maybe Alex was still dizzy from the concussion – he could have sworn derKorst was grinning. He tried to gather his wits. “Don’t you think…”
    “Actually, I do. I think you’ve got something there… Captain. He had to be dizzy. Julian really was grinning.
    “Not trying to move, are we?” Arthona’s voice cut loudly into his consciousness. There was a rustle of robes, and the mage quickly inserted himself into Alex’s field of vision. A hand gently tilted up his head – which made things even more blurry – and then Alex felt himself being firmly returned to a horizontal position. “That’s right, boy, don’t listen to your wizard. Dashed good thing for you I had a protection spell on me. Otherwise, who’d be able to look after you two masochistic types? Hopeless, that’s what you are.”
    He paused his hippocratic advice for a second to yell across the wardroom. “Kase! Girl, where’s that potion I asked you to mix? Can’t you get it finished any time this year?” Arthona turned back to his patients, grumbling. “And don’t you go drinking all the Irish Mist, Captain Julian-Your-Bloody-Highness derKorst. After all I’ve had to do today, the bloody wizard needs a shot or three himself.”
    Alex and Julian Your-Bloody-Highness shared a look, which was interrupted by the arrival of Kase, a mug of steaming liquid in hand. There was a look in her blue eyes which had roughly the effect of a healing potion on Alex; but the mage forced the mug into his hands and growled. “Drink it anyway. Or, so help me, I’ll set your fairy dragon on you.”
    It was hot, and it was spicy, and two seconds later Alex felt it begin to take effect. At least he assumed it was the potion. It might have been the extreme comfort of having his head cradled again in Kase’s lap. All he knew for sure was that, just as he was drifting out of consciousness, he heard derKorst ask: “…Alex?”
    He summoned a few last reserves. “Yes. Julian…?”
    “This doesn’t mean I have to like you, does it?”
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