A Clash of Aliens (The Human Chronicles Book 13) (5 page)

“Apology accepted,” Riyad said, as he rushed past the guards and toward the exit from the building.

“And don’t let this happen again!” Sherri added over her shoulder. “This is no way to treat people of our status. Arieel may no longer be your Speaker, yet I will be sure to make my displeasure known to those who are in charge—”

“Zip it, Sherri,” Riyad said under his breath.

The trio stepped out into the bright daylight of Formil, heading for the official vehicle with its waiting driver. The area outside the main entrance to the center was swarming with guards and other concerned personnel. They all stopped to gawk at the presence of Arieel on the grounds. Her status might be in question within the Order, but to those beyond the walls of the Temple Complex, Arieel was still their leader, the voice of their gods. At least when she wasn’t in the process of breaking their most sacred trust and traditions.

********

The driver was a loyalist who had worked for Arieel and her family for nearly fifty local years. He drove them to the Temple spaceport without question and dropped the trio off at Riyad’s prototype starship. Arieel hugged the good-looking hunk of Formilian maleness and whispered something to him with a tear in her eye.

Riyad could tell this was a goodbye. The former leader of the planet had no intention of ever returning to her homeworld again. It choked him up some, while Sherri impatiently tapped the metal bulkhead at the side of the entry hatch, anxious to button up and be gone.

If it wasn’t for the heavy gravity of Earth, Riyad would have offered her sanctuary there—her and Lila, if that came to pass—but she would have to find another world.

When Arieel finally entered the
Najmah Fayd
, Sherri just grunted and activated the door lock. The three ended up on the bridge.

Riyad’s new ride didn’t require much warm-up before she was ready for space, and with no bulletins out for them—yet—permission was given to lift. Forty seconds later, the ship was beyond the outer atmosphere of Formil and preparing to engage the gravity drive—which appropriately enough was based on Panur’s upgrade of the
Pegasus II.

“Give me the coordinates to Wokan, Arieel.”

Arieel was at the portside forward viewport staring down at Formil.

“Arieel…I need the coordinates.”

Without turning, she recited the numbers. After entering them into his nav computer and pressing the autopilot button, Riyad went and stood next to her.

“Nothing is forever. You may return one day.”

Arieel shook her head. “I am tired of fighting. The past several years have been hard on me and my people. I, too, had been deluded as to my supposed special powers. I was given my Gift at such a young age that I figured having such an implant was a rite of passage for Speakers. As it turned out, I was right, although it meant I was perpetuating a lie. Do not mistake me, I still believe in the powers of Mislin and Sufor. Their influence on everything around us is undeniable. Yet I thought I—and all the Speakers before me—were…different. I thought we truly did have a unique channel to the gods. Now, just like everyone else, I know the truth, that I was nothing special, just a person with an artificial device.” She hesitated, and her voice trembled. “Even if I were to return I would only continue to be embarrassed and angry all the time. I would see myself as a symbol of all that was wrong with two thousand years of Formilian history.”

“And being away…how would that be different?”

“Because I will not have to face my fellow Formilians. I cannot personally apologize to each one, so it is best that me and Lila—” her voice cracked even more “—just fade away, and let situations settle out on their own. I suspect the Order will not be able to fully explain their reasoning for such a long-term deception to an angry population.”

“You may be wrong, Arieel,” Riyad said. “I saw how those people outside the Temple walls looked at you. To them, you are still their spiritual leader. I agree that difficult times are coming, but that may be when you are needed the most. The Order created the lie, and they have been the ones who kept it going. The position of Speaker is hereditary, and so you had no choice but to become part of the illusion. Now you know better. You have credibility. You could lead your people to a new place, one without the need for individuals with so-called mystical powers. So tell them you still believe in your gods. That is very important. My people are extremely religious as well, and the past twenty years have challenged our beliefs like never before—yet I still believe, even after all I have seen.”

He paused and placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. “There’s no need to make final decisions now. Once you’re reunited with Lila, you can decide what’s best…for both of you.”

Arieel leaned her head onto Riyad’s chest.

Riyad heard Sherri in the background: “Oh, brother, give me a break.”

Chapter
4

Finding Juirean warships in Formilian space was nothing unusual. After all, Formil was a top-tier member of the Expansion and the most important technological planet in the entire galaxy. Even a squadron of five Class-Fours off by themselves wasn’t out of the ordinary.

So when the Human starship lifted from the planet’s surface, Overlord Ranor D’inos was there to see it happen. Even if he hadn’t been, the tracking device was working perfectly, and for that Ranor was thankful. But when the tiny ship engaged whatever revolutionary stardrive it employed, he was stunned. He checked his screens to make sure the ship was still being followed, if only electronically. It seemed to disappear and reappear along a straight path away from Formil, pulling away from the planet at such an incredible rate that his ships were woefully underpowered to even attempt keeping up.

Navigators hunched over plotting boards, doing their best to determine a final destination. Fortunately, the Human ship wasn’t trying to be deceptive. As Ranor’s ships engaged their own gravity drives and sped out of the star system, the path of the miracle starship seemed to be aiming for the Kidis Frontier.

Guard Elite Hansi Clidus was Ranor’s second-in-command. “It makes sense that the mutant would seek shelter and anonymity within the Frontier.”

“Do we have any forces in the region that could be in waiting for their arrival?” Ranor asked. “At our top speed, the Humans will reach the Frontier fully a week before we do.”

Hansi checked the computer. “Only token units, and nothing more than a Class-Three.”

“Still, enlist them in our efforts. We may know where the Humans are going, yet if they acquire the mutant immediately upon arrival, they could be gone well before we have a chance to accomplish our mission.”

“Agreed.” Then Hansi looked down at the graphic path of the Human starship on his screen. “Such gravity-drive technology could tip the balance of power in favor of the aliens,” he said. “It seems that in nearly every category the Humans are advancing much faster than are we.”

Ranor bristled. Was his Second a supporter of the Human superiority movement? “They have had an undue advantage recently—the help of our intended target,” Ranor said curtly.

“That only refers to certain technologies. There are others—”

Sensing that he might have stepped over a line, Hansi stopped speaking and stood up straight, facing his Overlord. “I am not saying they are superior to us, my Lord.”

Ranor let his yellow eyes burn into the younger Juirean, conveying more than words could. His voice was as cold as glacial ice: “Our people have had to withstand much more dishevel than have the Humans. Even if Earth was attacked on two separate occasions, they were never required to evacuate their homeworld, only to return to total destruction. Do not doubt the power or the resolve of the Juirean people. Distractions aside, we are still the leaders of the Expansion, and by extension, the entire galaxy. The Humans maintain their tiny Union because we allow them to. That time will soon come to an end, Hansi. Be sure you know where your loyalties lie at that time.”

“My loyalties have always been with my people,” Hansi said a little too emphatically. Others on the bridge began to take notice of the conversation. “I, for one, am anxious to resume our efforts against the Humans.”

“As am I. Yet let us complete this mission first, because if we fail, the mutant Panur will provide even more advancements for the Humans, advancements which will be paid for by an untold number of Juirean lives in the coming conflict.”

“I will make the links now, and call in every unit we have available in Kidis.”

“Do that, yet stage them appropriately so they show no undue activity. We want the Humans to lead us to Panur, not to abandon their search.”

“It will be done. With your leave, my Lord.”

Ranor watched his Second move away.

I will have to watch that one
, he thought. Then he sighed.
I do not need this complication. I will replace him before we reach Kidis—indeed, I will make an example of him. My mission is too important for me to be distracted with such thoughts. Yes, Hansi will be replaced, and in a very public manner.

Chapter
5

The
Najmah Fayd
entered the Wokan star system four days later, two days after the SCAC-18 modules had been scheduled for delivery.

From his research, Riyad found that the Kidis Frontier was much like the Fringe Worlds, only more so. This was an entire arm of the galaxy, albeit a minor arm, whereas the Fringe was just thirty-six scattered star systems and twelve habitable worlds.

Wokan was the first habitable system at the entrance to the arm, so it served as a clearinghouse for everything coming into the region from both the Expansion and the Union that was destined for the primitive worlds beyond. Not much came out of the Frontier of value, with the exception of contraband narcotics and various manufactured goods routed through the region to escape high tariffs.

As the ad hoc capital of the Frontier, there was more known of Wokan than most of the other planets in the region. And one of the most interesting features Riyad learned was that there was literally no law on Wokan. In spite of this, business thrived and populations were protected through the use of huge private security companies known as Defenders. Every community and establishment employed the guard forces, which were made up of every rough and tumble species found throughout the galaxy.

Even though he was a couple of decades separated from his own wild and crazy renegade days as the leader of the Fringe Pirates, there was something comforting about the system on Wokan. No one would be looking over his shoulder to make sure he did things according to the book—there was no book. What you could afford—and impose on others—was the rule, and not by government fiat. It was all on the individual.

Of course the system wasn’t perfect—far from it. It took Riyad several tries before he located someone who could assign him a landing space. Even the spaceports were privately owned and competing with each other—to the benefit of Riyad and his team. He rented a pad in a port on the outskirts of Essen, the largest city on the planet, for the equivalent of $6.50 per day.

Planning ahead, he also contacted one of the Defender companies and hired a team of guards for the
Najmah Fayd
. His ship was too unique and too valuable to be left unattended while they tracked down O-Pell Energy, the company that had ordered the SCAC-18 power modules. As far as Riyad could tell, O-Pell was the largest such business in the Frontier, showing that if you supplied a product everyone needed, you were more or less left alone, just like a mail carrier in a bad neighborhood. Everyone needed to get their monthly government checks.

Once on the surface with the generators turned off, Riyad noticed that the gravity of Wokan was Expansion Standard, which left him and Sherri with a spring in their steps and a distinct physical advantage over all those who found the local gravity to be normal.

For her part, Sherri was absolutely ecstatic about setting foot on another alien world. She’d been away from the scene for a couple of years, and the boredom associated with everyday life as a Realtor’s wife had just about drove her insane. But now she stopped in her tracks and stared at Riyad, her jaw slack.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me?” she said, scanning Riyad’s outfit from top to bottom. Arieel followed her gaze and frowned at the sour expression on the face of the Human female.

Riyad had come out of his stateroom wearing a pair of blue pants with a yellow stripe running the length of the legs, a brown vest, and a white, long-sleeve shirt.

“I suppose this makes me Princess Leia, or is that honor reserved for our over-sexed alien friend?”

“I don’t know what you mean—”

“C’mon, having delusions of grandeur are you, Riyad? Or should I call you Han, Han Solo?”

“What is it you are speaking of?” Arieel finally asked.

“Just a little Earth mythology, Arieel. Riyad thinks he’s some kind of dashing scoundrel of a hero. What was Solo called…a scruffy-looking nerf-herder?”

“Who’s scruffy-looking?”

“I understand nerfs are an indigenous bovine species of Jalin IV, according to the Library?” Arieel said.

“Yeah, I’m sure they are, just like George Lucas was probably an alien placed on Earth to help acclimate the population to…well, all of this.” Sherri waved her hand at the expanse of the spaceport, having just stepped through the doorway of the
Najmah Fayd
. “You’re really going out in public like that?”

“You have to admit, I look good.”

“I don’t recall Han having a full black beard and a swarthy complexion.”

“His loss.”

Sherri reacted to Riyad’s brilliant white smile with a shake of her head. “Save it for the uninitiated, Riyad. Been there, done that.”

Their friendly banter was interrupted by the arrival of eight burly-looking aliens representing three distinct species. Each was over seven-feet tall and barrel-chested. They wore bandolier ammo belts of flash power packs crisscrossing their torsos, and double holsters of MK plasma weapons, along with an assortment of other defensive instruments made up of metal rods and other things with spikes. Seeing the range and depth of their personal arsenals, Riyad gained a sense of confidence that his ship would remain safe while on the surface of Wokan.

One of the aliens stepped up to the trio with purpose. He eyed the females with unabashed bravado. “Is your harem accompanying you?”

“We are
not
his harem,” Sherri stated defiantly.

The alien met her angry eyes with a steely indifference. “As you say.” He turned his attention to Riyad: “I am Saln Xacin, of Apex Defensive Services. Is the vessel unoccupied?”

“It is…and it will remain so,” Riyad answered as he slipped a stack of Juirean credits into the outstretched hand of the Defender. “We’re heading into town for a couple of hours. No one is to attempt entry or even to approach the craft. Is that understood?”

“It is a unique vessel. It will gain much attention—and desire—here on Wokan.”

Riyad handed him an additional two chips.

“But it will remain secure.”

“See that it does. If so, there will be a bonus for all of you when we return.”

“This is your first arrival on Wokan.” The comment was a statement, not a question. “Our reputation as Defenders here is very important. We do not get hired if we allow a breakdown in security. Your vessel will be safe, although a bonus would be appreciated.”

“I thought so. Is that our transportation?”

Saln pointed to a rusty box on wheels sitting nearby. “Yes, it is reliable and affordable. One of my Defenders will accompany you.”

“Is that necessary?” Sherri asked.

The alien regarded her for a long moment before responding…to Riyad. “He will serve as your guide and protector. The transport driver also has his own Defender.”

“It could get a little crowded in there,” Riyad commented with a smile. He pulled his lips back over his teeth when he noticed a reaction from Saln. “Sorry, force of habit.”

“I would recommend you control that…habit. It would not do for you to get yourself killed over a misunderstanding.”

“Do you realize what species we are?” Sherri asked.

Again the long scrutiny. “You could be Scarpins, or possibly even Humans. I am not sure.”

“We are—”

“We are Scarpins, you are correct,” Riyad said, cutting off Sherri’s proclamation.

Saln then turned his lustful expression on Arieel. “And you are definitely a Formilian. We see your kind rarely, and even less so the females. Will you be staying on Wokan long?”

“Only as long as necessary,” Riyad said, before taking both the women by the arm and steering them toward the transport. “Keep everyone away from my ship…and that includes your Defenders. There are special security defenses attached to the hull which I’m sure you will find very unpleasant.”

In the front seat of the electric cab was the driver, and another huge alien armed to the teeth seated next to him. As Riyad, Sherri and Arieel slipped into the back, one of Saln’s huge Defenders squeezed onto the single bench seat next to Arieel. The accommodations were unquestionably tight.

“You may sit on my lap,” the Defender said to Arieel.

“Oh, that would be more comfortable.” Arieel lithely moved onto the wide expanse offered to her. She remained there only a few seconds before forcing herself back between the Defender and Sherri.

She eyed the alien with embarrassment, as the Defender stared back at her with a satisfied grin. “Forgive me,” she said.

“There is nothing to forgive. I enjoyed it.”

“Oh my God…did you just—”

“Destination?” the driver called out.

“O-Pell Energy,” Riyad announced, anxious to change the subject.

“South or east?”

“The main operation.”

“South. That will be sixty credits.”

Riyad passed him the chips, noticing how the cab’s Defender was looking into the back at Arieel. “You may now choose to sit in the front…with me,” he offered.

“No thank you. I am content to remain where I am.”

“I am a Fasson…have you heard of us? You may be impressed—”

“Leave my customers alone, Najaz,” the driver scolded. “Save your bragging for the walkers in the Dacca Sector.”

“It is not bragging…it is a fact.”

“Can we please change the subject,” Sherri asked.

The Defender in the front seat now shifted his attention to her. “I would not be opposed to even you joining me up here…”

Sherri’s MK was in her hand in a flash, the barrel pressing hard against the alien’s cheek while her free hand held his head in place. He struggled to pull away, but Sherri’s superior strength held him firm. “I said let’s change the subject.”

“No fighting in the transport!” the much smaller cab driver called out.

“We aren’t fighting, are we? Just having a meeting of the minds.”

“Yes. I mean no…no fight. You may remain where you are.”

“I thought so.” Sherri released the Defender and settled back onto her seat. She looked over at Riyad and beamed a full-tooth grin.

“One of these days you’re going to get us all killed,” Riyad said under his breath.

“Not before I teach these aliens how to respect a woman.”

“An MK does have a way of getting respect.”

“Exactly.”