Chaotic Futures, page 4
“We’ve a problem,” Harjath said, when the commanders were alone.
“Maybe and maybe not,” Demgrad replied.
“No shuttle pilot will end his life on our orders,” Harjath argued. “Radag males aren’t built that way.”
“Leave this part to me,” Demgrad said. “You concentrate on readying the shuttle. When it’s time to launch, I’ll ensure that the chiefs have their retribution.”
The coldness in the scarred commander’s eyes convinced Harjath to relent. With a nod, Harjath left to deal with his part of the plot.
The scarred commander mulled Harjath’s statement that Radags were not emotionally structured to commit suicide. But there were exceptions, and he was one of them. In his youth, he was a violent warrior. It had served him well. He made squad leader long before his contemporaries.
Yet, the violence didn’t serve him well in his personal life. He mated, and, within four annuals, a fit of anger and a slash of claws ended his first young’s life. Many annuals later, his mate met the same fate.
To this day, his two remaining progeny wouldn’t speak to him. Purposefully, they and their families lived far away from him.
On making commander, he had the opportunity to take a second mate. Unfortunately, his reputation preceded him. A patriarch and matriarch had to agree to their young mating him, and he’d not received a single approval.
As it was, he spent many annuals stationed on worlds throughout the Imperium Empire. His ruthlessness made him a priority candidate to head new Radag teams.
Demgrad knew there was another reason that he was speedily approved to be moved offworld. On many occasions, he’d felt slighted by a warrior or a matriarch, and he was quick to dispense reprimands. With his history, the other commanders were quick to nominate him for the soonest available position to head teams and ship him from Darmian.
Demgrad reached his home. It had been empty of other individuals for decades, and it had slowly evolved into a minimalist appearance. When things broke down, he threw them away and never replaced them.
Climbing the stairs to his bedroom, he started to pack. When he found himself stuffing clothing for an extended stay off planet, he chortled darkly and threw the extra belongings on the bed. Then he made his way down the stairs. At the front door, he paused and surveyed the meager furnishings. Shaking his head in dismissal, he exited the house.
The act of closing the door signaled an end to an otherwise tragic life marked by the worst of Radag warrior mentality.
Taking casual transportation routes, Demgrad arrived at the city adjacent to the target shuttleport. He checked into nearby accommodations that usually housed teams ready to step aboard a shuttle bound for a peacekeeper.
The scarred commander found the place empty, and he used the auto check-in service. After tossing his bag on the bed, he walked back out and headed toward the shuttleport.
At the control tower, Demgrad mentioned the name of his contact, and he was directed to a room on the second level.
When Demgrad entered the room, several techs jumped to attention. “I seek Toorstag,” he said.
“Here, Commander,” the senior tech replied quickly.
“Come with me,” Demgrad ordered. Then he whirled and exited the room.
Toorstag and his companions briefly exchanged worried glances. By age and scarring, a senior commander had visited their workplace. It was a rare event.
As Toorstag left the room, the other techs breathed sighs of relief that the commander hadn’t wanted them.
“Is there a problem, Commander?” Toorstag inquired, as they exited the control tower.
“You’ve been contacted about a shuttle launch,” Demgrad said.
Suddenly, Toorstag’s worries disappeared. This was the individual whom he’d been warned was coming. That it was a senior commander told him the plot was real, as was the promise he’d received.
“Tell me about the preparations,” Demgrad requested.
“Our shuttles haven’t been used in a while,” Toorstag replied. “We’ve had to borrow parts from other ships to ready one for flight.”
“And,” Demgrad prompted.
“We ran a preflight check on the shuttle, and it passed,” Toorstag said proudly.
“Excellent,” Demgrad replied, which had the desired effect on the tech.
“I was told that the shuttle would make a low orbit flight and land again,” Toorstag said. “That’s important. I don’t think the ship can sustain a long flight.”
The tech’s remarks warned Demgrad that the entire plot hadn’t been shared with the local support. “It will be a short flight,” he promised Toorstag.
“What of the pilot?” Demgrad inquired.
“You can have your choice of pilots,” Toorstag replied. “Many of them live close by, and any one of them would appreciate the reward.”
Demgrad’s ears twitched. “How much was promised?” he asked.
Toorstag thought the commander was testing him, and he knew it was critical not to exaggerate the amount. Therefore, he repeated exactly what was spoken, quoting the amounts for him, his tech companions, and the pilot.
Demgrad made a show of nodding appreciatively, which brightened Toorstag’s eyes. The thought of credits had that effect on warriors and citizens.
“Contact a pilot, preferably one who hasn’t mated,” Demgrad ordered. “We want to honor a young Radag for his daring.”
“Do you think the invaders will let the shuttle fly unharmed?” Toorstag asked.
“This is a test of their restraint,” Demgrad replied. “If successful, we’ll attempt other such demonstrations.”
“Little steps,” Toorstag surmised.
“That’s it,” Demgrad acknowledged. “Have the pilot ready to report at a moment’s notice. The flight could be as early as tomorrow just before starlight.”
“It’ll be done, Commander,” Toorstag replied.
When the commander left Toorstag, he quickly returned to his companions.
“Who was the commander?” the other techs inquired.
“He never gave his name,” Toorstag replied. “I think the commander wants to maintain secrecy.”
“Why?” a tech asked.
“If you hurry, you can catch him and ask him yourself,” Toorstag replied, which effectively quieted the questioner.
“What about the reward?” a tech asked anxiously.
“It’s real and for the amounts I was told,” Toorstag replied happily.
There was a round of barking to celebrate the coming largesse.
In the room, Demgrad placed a call to Harjath. “Your preparations have been successful,” he reported. “Our controller has promised rewards.” Then he quoted the credits.
“Should the promises be kept?” Harjath inquired.
“Absolutely,” Demgrad replied. “If we want cooperation for future ventures, then there must be satisfied participants.”
“True,” Harjath replied. “What of the pilot?”
“We’ve found a young warrior. I believe he’s unmated,” Demgrad temporized.
“Why would he want to make such a flight?” Harjath asked.
“He’s contracted a rare medical condition. It will be fatal,” Demgrad lied for a second time.
“His misfortune is our opportunity,” Harjath responded in relief. He’d thought that this step in the plot wouldn’t have been completed.
“Any suggestions on when to launch?” Demgrad inquired.
“You’ll have to backtime the launch with the pilot,” Harjath replied. “Many of the families leave the enclave after a morning meal to work on the fields within the new enclosures. If you could lift to time your arrival at the enclave before the invaders’ shuttles arrive, that would be best.”
“Is the morning meal at the usual time?” Demgrad asked.
“The reports I’ve received show it’s the same every cycle,” Harjath replied confidently.
“Then we launch in the next cycle’s early hours,” Demgrad said, “I hope you find the chiefs appreciate your gesture.”
From Harjath’s perspective, the call ended suddenly. As well, Demgrad’s final comment confused him. Surely, he would share in any praise the chiefs bestowed on them. He would have thought more on the odd ending, but he received more action reports on the invaders’ comings and goings, which he chose to examine.
Demgrad called Toorstag, who had left for the day. However, he was quickly given the senior tech’s ID number. When Toorstag answered his device, Demgrad told him to ready the shuttle for a night launch.
“The team I need has gone home,” Toorstag objected.
“Either you or the pilot must determine the launch time to enable the shuttle to fly above the negotiators’ enclave during their morning meal,” Demgrad replied, as if the tech had never made an objection.
“I can determine that,” Toorstag said.
“Then contact your team and the pilot, and make this happen. Is that understood?” Demgrad responded with a growl.
The commander’s growl did its job.
Toorstag stammered, “It’ll ... it’ll be done.” Then the call ended, and the tech was left staring at his device. Galvanized by the need to fulfill the duties to collect the rewards, he called every tech. Many had just sat down to their evening meals and objected to the interruption.
Toorstag’s answer was always the same to those who protested. “Do you or don’t you want the credits?” That had ended the arguments.
The tech team quickly reassembled at the shuttle pad, and they set about readying the shuttle for launch. Soon after they started, a young pilot arrived.
“This is for real,” the pilot, Kralstem said, gazing at the techs hard at work.
“It’s certainly going to happen, and the credits are real too,” a tech replied conspiratorially.
Kralstem’s grin was evident by his open muzzle and curled lips, displaying rows of sharp teeth.
Toorstag spotted Kralstem and hurried to his side. He wanted confirmation of his calculations.
“Why the timing to pass above the enclave?” Kralstem asked.
“When the senior commander arrives, you be sure to ask him that when I’m not standing beside you,” Toorstag warned.
Kralstem held up his hands in protest. “I still need my entire flight plan,” he pointed out.
“As I understand it, you’re making a full low orbit rotation,” Toorstag replied. “You’re intended to land here. However, if your shuttle develops any trouble, I have you passing above two alternate shuttle pads.”
“Do you expect problems?” Kralstem asked.
“We’ve done a full preflight check, and we’ll run another one as soon as the shuttle is fueled,” Toorstag replied. “So far, everything has come back clear.”
“Good news,” Kralstem replied. Then he followed Toorstag to a small hut, where the tech’s flight calculations could be reviewed.
After running through the flight scenario twice, which was what Kralstem had learned at the academy, he pronounced the launch, the trajectory angle, and the flight path as accurate.
Toorstag nodded and ran to help the team finish prepping the shuttle. They finished the job with time to spare.
Then Kralstem grabbed his kit and boarded the shuttle to run through his own preflight check. He was nearly finished when he heard an individual climbing toward his cockpit.
“Pilot Kralstem, this is Commander Demgrad,” Toorstag announced.
Kralstem watched the scarred commander climb into the copilot seat, and Toorstag made a hasty retreat.
“Welcome aboard, Commander,” Kralstem said, not knowing what else to say to the commander’s unexpected arrival.
“I’m here, Kralstem, to communicate with the invaders if they contact us,” Demgrad explained casually. “The contact’s nature will be purely political, which is why I’m present.”
“Understood, Commander,” Kralstem said, with a bit of relief. He certainly didn’t want a misunderstanding with the invaders. Their small ships were fast and dangerous.
Demgrad watched the young pilot concentrate on preparing the shuttle for lift. He felt a remorseful pain in his chest. He thought, You’ve destroyed lives throughout your career. It’s sad that you’ll end your life the same way you’ve lived it.
At the appropriate time, Toorstag announced to Kralstem that the launch pad was cleared, and he could lift.
Kralstem checked his readouts, as he waited patiently for the chronometer to count down. At the first node, he ignited his engines and checked his temperatures and pressures. “We’re looking good, Commander,” he assured Demgrad, who merely nodded.
Precisely on time, Kralstem increased the flow to the engines, which roared to life. Then he initiated the booster. In response, the commander and he were shoved deep into their seats, as the shuttle fought Darmian’s gravity.
As the shuttle gained velocity, it angled to take on the flight path that would have it orbiting the planet.
When Demgrad felt the acceleration ease, and he became weightless, he broke his silence. “I’ve difficult news for you, Pilot Kralstem,” he said. “Neither of us will be going home.”
Kralstem glanced worriedly at Demgrad. He was hoping the scarred commander would tell him that he was teasing. Instead, he saw sadness in the commander’s eyes. Several thoughts raced through his mind, and he discarded each one as they occurred to him. The last one was that he might overpower the commander, which made him chortle.
Demgrad watched the young Radag go through various emotions. He was hoping that he arrived at acceptance.
Finally, Kralstem released a shuddering breath. Then he quietly inquired, “Can my credits go to my sibling?”
Demgrad tapped out a quick message to Harjath. “Done,” he told Kralstem.
“Our destination is the enclave, isn’t it?” Kralstem queried.
“It is,” Demgrad replied.
“And that’s why you’re really here,” Kralstem pressed.
The sharp pang inside Demgrad grew stronger. The youth was bright. He deserved a full life with a mate and young, but it wasn’t to be.
The shuttle’s flight path allowed the ship to leave Darmian’s dark side and be lit by starlight. It would be a short flight to the enclave.
Mystic floated her traveler above the enclave’s roof. She’d arrived early for the first load of families who wished to be trained with the field bots. However, they wouldn’t be loading for a little while. When she dropped the rear ramp, her expected passenger jumped aboard.
Red made his way to the copilot’s seat. His companionship with Mystic was forged in their commitment to each other. During the meadow fight, she’d dived to protect Red by intercepting a warrior’s energy strike. The beam had decapitated her and removed Red’s arm.
When Mystic was restored to a new avatar, she’d learned of the one-armed, ex-mickie’s effort to drag her avatar to safety.
The bond between sister and suit developed when Red exited the Jatouche tank with a rebuilt arm. The first thing he’d done was to query the ship’s controller to determine the state of the sister.
Mystic had intercepted the query.
In the meetings that followed, Mystic and Red found common ground. Neither was good at relationships with others. Often they sat in the traveler for lengths of time without sharing a word. Yet, they were comfortable with the other’s presence.
This morning, their conversation was interrupted by an alert.
Julien chose not to add his thoughts. The protectors, the suits, and the sisters knew far more intimately the workings of the Radag mindset than he.
As there wasn’t time for an argument, Mystic launched the traveler. Her intention was to ensure the shuttle continued on its path around the planet.
Aboard the shuttle, Demgrad pointed at the ground display monitor. “There’s your target, Kralstem. Dive at it,” he ordered.
Kralstem hesitated.
“Do it now,” Demgrad growled.
When Kralstem appeared reticent, he received a slash of claws across his throat. Blood sprayed across the cockpit’s instrumentation.
Demgrad had prepared for this. He’d studied the basic minimums to direct a shuttle in flight. However, he’d never had the opportunity to try it. Toggling a switch, he was pleased to see the controls switch from the pilot to the copilot’s position. Then he grasped the central joystick and sent the shuttle into a dive. He attempted to align his actual path with the arc displayed on a monitor. As he was new to the operations, several times he oversteered the craft and had to correct.
Mystic sent. The moment the shuttle had left its low orbit and headed for the planet, she’d revised her approach.
Nebulon connected to Mystic and Red.
As the Radag shuttle dropped rapidly through the atmosphere, its bow glowed fiercely from the atmospheric friction.
