The Wrath of Humans

A Starship Independence Book

Book 2

By CW Lamb

I want to express my gratitude for the fantastic feedback on Book 1. The readers have spoken, and Book 2 is the result.

Copyright © 2025 by CW Lamb http://www.cwlamb.net

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the Author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

First Edition

14 13 12 11 10 / 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Works by CW Lamb

AL:ICE Series

AL:ICE

AL:ICE-9

AL:ICE Resurrection

AL:ICE Space War

AL:ICE Alliance

AL:ICE Explorer

AL:ICE Avatar

AL:ICE AI vs AL

Ranger Series

The Lost Ranger

Dragon’s Teeth

The Dark Paladin

Wizard King of the North

The Scion of Windfall

A Bridge to the Past

The Dowry

The Sword and the Medallion

Starship Independence

A Path to Independence

The Wrath of Humans

Other Works

The Ranch Hand

Youngblood

Amazon store

Author Website

Contents

Characters and Notes

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Authors Notes

Characters and Notes

1)     Cris (Cristos, Christopher)- Independence Captain – half Human/half Cheizat (Shay-zat)

2)     Aeryn – First Mate/First Officer – Cheizat (Military species of Interstellar forces)

3)     Seren – Doctor – Cheizat species

4)     Bryan Norton – Human – retired Marine

5)     Zaim – Pilot -furry and catlike – Alaid (Ah-laid) species

6)     Kylo – Navigator – reptile scales – Brigmuns (Brig-muns) species

7)     Azizi – Engineer – female free spirit, humanoid with colored skin- Gazht (Ga-zat) species

8)     Istu – Red Shirt – oversized muscle – Yozus (Yo-Zeus) species

9)     Independence – Starship – Won from the spoiled son of a planet ruler, lost in the bet but not released before death in a duel with Cris.

10)                        Time measurements conversion

Name of unit | Seconds | In common units
Decasecond/Decas | 10 | 0.17 Earth minutes
Hectosecond/Hectos | 100 | 1.67 earth minutes (or 1 minute 40 seconds)
Kilosecond/Kilos | 1000 | 16.7 earth minutes (or 16 minutes and 40 seconds)
Arn | 5 Kilos | 1 solar hour interstellar standard time
Sol | 20 Arns | 1 solar day interstellar standard time
Megasecond/Megs | 1000000 | 11.6 Earth days. A solar week (or 11 days, 13 hours, 46 minutes, and 40 seconds)
Len | 25 megs | 1 Solar month interstellar standard time
Cycle | 10 Lens | 1 Solar year interstellar standard time
Gigasecond/Giga | 1000000000 | 31.7 Earth years (or 31 years, 252 days, 1 hour, 46 minutes, 40 seconds, assuming that there are seven leap years in the interval)

11)                        Bounty Hunters - Sasquatches in jumpsuits

12)                        Regous brothers – salvage company – frog-faced species

13)                        Yarn – kilometer

14)                        Madorian (Ma-door-ian) – alien regenerate species

15)                        Sporat (Spor-rat)– alien businessman – bearlike species

16)                        Molecular Reconstruction Transformer, or MRT

17)                        1 platinum=10 golds, 1 gold = 25 silvers, 1 silver = 100 coppers

18)                        E857-C – colony planet with Enforcer trap

19)                        Gama 9 – space station, Las Vegas of space

20)                        Rygon – Pantera Major gambling boss

21)                        Stargazer, Skydancer – Independence aliases

22)                        Rogue – Star runabout Bryan purchased

23)                        Limar – humanoid species of Pantera, commerce-focused

24)                        Wyndom- Enforcer colonel

Chapter 1

Moon X

“I don’t know what Seren was complaining about. This is fun,” Aeryn commented brightly as she and Bryan sped through the alien countryside in his recently updated Jeep.

Bryan Norton drove the Earth vehicle from the hidden landing zone used by the transport ship Rogue. It was his small interstellar runabout purchased for an earlier mission but retained as an alternative to the pair of shuttles the Independence held in one of its bays. He enjoyed the notion that he had his personal interstellar ship, but saw no instance on the horizon where he would leave Independence and strike out on his own in it.

“She is not an action adventure chick like you,” Bryan laughed in reply.

The pair followed the route outlined on the dash display, as it had been laid out during their planning sessions. The intent of the trip was to gain unseen access to the target area identified during the planet survey Zaim had conducted before their arrival as part of their latest employment contract.

Aeryn’s reference to Seren, the ship’s doctor, had been regarding her pounding journey on a harsh mining planet that involved a previous rescue of hijacked colonists. It was an experience the doctor had found less than enjoyable, an opinion she shared openly with anyone who would listen. It had been a Banzai Run across lifeless rocks and dirt in a sandstorm. The trip was intended to free captured colonists who had been enslaved by raiders and then sold for cheap labor in the outlaw mines of a distant planet.

Far from barren and harsh, this tiny world held abundant plant and animal life, all of which remained undisturbed by colonization. A mild climate and clear skies suggested to an outside observer that this was a joy ride in the spring and not another potentially hazardous mission. This particular location on the terraformed moon featured a combination of grasslands and tree clusters, interspersed with dense underbrush and mounds of rocks and boulders. They had been told the moon was a recent reclamation project in the final stabilization phase before initial population, and all the greenery reminded Bryan of home.

The irregular open spaces between plant life and solid rock clusters allowed Bryan to race the Jeep along at a respectable speed while swerving in and out of the direct line of travel with minimal disruption to their progress. Unlike the planet where Seren and Istu had experienced an outing in his Jeep, this world had softer soil with grass-covered terrain, which provided a smoother, less jarring experience. The upgraded four-wheel drive vehicle clawed almost silently across the open terrain with little effort, and the forgiving ground beneath their wheels minimized the occasional bump or bounce that exercised the suspension.

This excursion was in support of their roles in the latest paying job Cris had landed for the crew, and Aeryn and Bryan’s goal was to insert unseen and secure an overwatch position. The location assigned to the pair allowed them the ability to protect Cris and Istu as they carried out the objective of the task that had been handed to the crew of the Independence.

In the back seat of the Jeep, Bryan had stowed his 5.56 AR-type rifle that would allow him greater reach than his favorite 300 Blackout chambered version of the same platform, the objective being to dissuade anyone threatening his shipmates. The lesser gravity of the moon aided in extending its reach, a comforting thought. Its accuracy delivered better performance from a greater distance than his preferred 300, where the heavier bullet had a more significant impact on the target.

Aeryn was assigned as his spotter and field partner, a choice he wholeheartedly approved of. Her role was to assist him in preventing harm from befalling their crewmates and watch his back in case the pair got flanked during their part of the operation. The briefing Cris had provided the day before explained the necessity of their responsibilities.

“We’ve been hired for a job that’s a bit out of our normal line of work, but the pay is good. Very good,” Cris began as he talked to his crew.

As Captain of Independence, Cris had collected the band of outlaws that he called a crew from various star systems over his years of space travel. With one exception, everyone on board the starship had a price on their head and was wanted by the Intergalactic Enforcers for crimes against the government. The fact that all charges were unfair and their actions would be considered justified by a reasonable person was irrelevant to those in power.

Bryan himself was under a pair of death sentences for the crime of defending himself and others in the face of unprovoked attacks by two different groups at three separate times. It was his response to those attacks that had forced him into exile from Earth and into space. He took it as a mixed blessing since the tradeoff provided him a new life and family among the stars at a time when his previous life was winding down.

He liked to joke that he was called out of retirement. As part of his fresh start, he had been blessed with a new youthful body and a captain and crew that opened new worlds of wonder he could have only dreamed of. An unexpected bonus was the beautiful, alien women he had encountered along the way. Apparently, Captain Kirk and Buck Rogers had been right all along.

“We have been contracted to drop off a ransom payment, more of repaying a gambling debt ally, in exchange for the safe return of a hostage. The person of interest is a member of one of Pantera Minor’s more affluent families, and some unsavory types are detaining him to force the repayment of unpaid losses of said individual from his extended family,” Cris expanded.

“That seems to be a familiar theme on Minor?” Bryan commented, recalling that the ship they currently occupied was acquired as part of a gambling incident.

“Indeed, when you have more money than sense, bad things happen, and the Limar, as a species, are addicted to gambling,” was all Cris would say on the subject.

Pulling up a holographic map, Cris explained the details of the job they had undertaken as the image hovered above the table.

“This is the place identified for the exchange. It’s on a small moon not far from the Pantera system, and it's currently unpopulated, so there should be no interference from the locals during the transaction. It doesn’t have a proper name yet, as the company that performed the terraform is holding off so the buyer can pick one. Let’s all call it Moon X, shall we?” he offered.

Bryan scanned the image and immediately spotted a flaw in the plan.

“That’s a trap,” he blurted.

“Very good. That was my assessment as well,” Cris confirmed with a nod of approval.

The location for the exchange was in a valley, more of a depression, and not one lined with mountains, but surrounded by three hills of varying heights and sizes. The two taller mounds stood to one side of the gap while a ridge, lower in altitude but longer than the other two combined, ran straight along one side, creating the opposite border.

Openings at either end of the depression would funnel anyone entering or leaving the surrounding flat into a space not easily defended from assault by anyone on the rises above. Trees and brush were scattered in the area, but nothing to write home about when one was looking for solid cover while under fire.

“I expect the kidnappers to have at least one, if not two shooters on the high ground here, and here, that would allow them to cover both the valley below and the top of the ridge across the way.”

Cris had pointed to the two taller mounds as he relayed his thoughts.

“I want Zaim and Kylo to disrupt anyone roosting on these high points while Bryan and Aeryn take up a position on this ridge to ensure the peaceful transfer of people and funds. It's closer to the transfer point, and the lower elevation should make any necessary shots easier,” he outlined.

“That’s too far for a pulse rifle, and I am not as experienced with Bryan’s long guns,” Aeryn commented with concern.

“I don’t need you as a second shooter. I want you to cover Bryan as he goes about his business. Even if they don’t place a third shooter on that ridge, they would be a fool not to put some security presence there as well as the other two locations,” he explained.

“If that’s too far for a pulse rifle, what are the bad guys using?” Bryan asked in curiosity.

“You would call it a laser rifle, but that’s a simplified word for it. In truth, the weapon generates a particle energy beam, which can burn a hole in you that will ruin your day. While excellent for hitting long-distance targets, it lacks the kinetic punch of your weapons. Unless you are talented enough to hit a vital body part, they are more of an annoyance than a threat, and thus not generally used. You might look into acquiring one at some point, considering your skills, as you could make good use of it,” Cris observed absently. 

A flashing icon on the Jeep's dash display brought Bryan back to the present, abandoning his daydreaming.

“That’s your cue, get ready,” Bryan commented to Aeryn as he pointed ahead to a stand of trees with a significant amount of undergrowth between the trunks.

Bryan had removed the doors from his Jeep in preparation for this assignment. Slowing his approach, a move intended to imply he needed to drop his speed to make the turn, should the two be tracked, he tapped Aeryn on the shoulder as he gave her the signal when he hit the marker.

“Go,” he blurted as he made the turn and watched her slip from her seat and leap out of the vehicle, rolling onto the ground and into the brush before he picked up his speed and continued away from the location.

Watching in the rear-view mirror, she disappeared from view, hidden in the underbrush. From this point, he knew it was only a short distance to the top of the ridge that was his final destination.

----*----

Moon X

Aeryn slipped from her seat in the Jeep after releasing the latch on the harness that held her securely in place. Bryan had slowed the vehicle as per the plan to minimize the risk of injury during her leap, but the two agreed that he was not to stop, lest they betray her exit to anyone tracking their movements. Holding her pulse rifle parallel against her body, she rolled into the brush and then lay there waiting for several minutes as she listened for sounds in the surrounding area.

Bryan had been teaching her outdoors skills that increased her combat abilities far beyond the doctrine followed by the Enforcer teams. Commando-style tactics of unconventional warfare, including infiltration, surveillance, and reconnaissance, ran counter to the things she had learned at the academy. It was a new way of thinking for her, and she was beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel as she experienced insertions like this one.

She had heard the raucous noises Bryan’s Jeep emitted before the upgrades Azizi and he had installed, and she was grateful for the relative quiet it now enjoyed. It was in stark contrast to the thunderous roar of the antiquated internal combustion engine they had ripped from the vehicle. The quiet around her began to come alive as the wildlife, created as part of the terraforming effort, returned to normal after being startled by the rolling menace.

At one point, as they prepared for the mission, Bryan had explained all the changes Azizi had delivered to him from her shopping trip on Gama 9, but most of it was terms and phrases she was sure the translator had failed to process correctly. In all, she just nodded and smiled as he seemed excited and happy with their work, and that was all that mattered to her.

Her feelings for the human confused her. Regardless of the close physical resemblance between the Cheizat and the Humans, the differences in behavior constantly challenged her reality. The extremes in his ability for warm affection and the contrasts in the cold, callous brutality he was capable of that fascinated and at times terrified her about the male. This job typified those differences as they planned it out.

Unlike her past as an Enforcer Special Operations team leader, where they inserted in force and overwhelmed the adversary, this effort had all the traits of one of Bryan’s against-all-odds actions. It was expected that the kidnappers would have two to three times their numbers in the engagement in a strong show of force.

She had asked him to teach her more of the specialized tricks of what he called commando tactics. The sneak attacks that Enforcers found cowardly and unworthy, but ones that Bryan had proven highly effective in singular or small force engagements.

Their smaller force taking on a sure-to-be well-armed and numerous adversary, she felt a thrill at the implications. Only now, with Bryan magnifying the traits, did she realize Cris had the same illogical and unrealistic faith in their ability to do great things with fewer numbers. She wondered if all humans felt the same way.

“Time to move,” she mumbled to herself after allowing the allotted time to pass without indications of detection.

It was vital that she not arrive too soon at the destination after Bryan, as he needed to reach the selected point and then begin his preparation as bait for any security lurking nearby. During the planning phase, everyone agreed that anyone assigned to the location by the kidnappers would wait until they were sure he was settled in before interceding in his plans. The unspoken hope was that Bryan wouldn’t be shot from behind before Aeryn arrived to assert control of the situation and protect his back.

“It always sucks to be the bait, but it’s worse to be the hostage,” he had commented.

Aeryn was positive that the translator was defective when it came to humans, as half of what Bryan said made no sense to her. Sucking was a eating function and how that related to the situation at hand seemed irrelevant.

Moving cautiously from one tree cluster to another, as Bryan had taught her, she tried to limit the time she was exposed to view over open ground. She also paced herself to arrive within the specified time frame of their plan. Reaching the destination, she found her hiding place and, from there, silently watched Bryan prepare for his task of shooting any threats.

Settling in, she once again opened her senses to the sounds of the breeze and the rustling of branches. Another trick the human had taught her was to try to become one with her surroundings, allowing her senses to take in and detect anomalies that should alert her to danger. It all seemed primeval and animalistic, but she worked to master the technique.

Sitting there, she wondered if they might have overestimated their foe, as no one appeared to disrupt Bryan’s efforts.

----*----

Moon X

Bryan had his rifle on the bipod as he watched through the optics that aided his accuracy. An upgrade Aeryn had acquired for him at the weapons market, the device was a marvel of alien technology. Packed with sensors, it measured distance, atmospheric conditions, and could determine the life signs of the target. It could sync to a helmet display, should he need to wear one, and notified him of the type of ammunition he had loaded in the weapon.

He estimated the distance to be approximately 800 meters, a value confirmed by the scope translated from the Cheizat values, and the down angle was not severe enough to affect his shot. Without a breeze to contend with, the air below was still and calm, so he chose not to adjust the scope settings for windage and instead made the elevation correction for the point of aim.

Stopping the Jeep about fifty feet from this position, so it was not visible to the valley below, he had unloaded all his gear for the assignment in silence, listening for any tell-tale sounds of company. The mat he lay on provided a debris-free workspace that held him, his rifle, and extra magazines for his rifle. Additionally, a second spotting scope, which allowed for a broad view of the target area, contained additional heat, power, and motion detection sensors.

As was normal in his burgeoning experiences on alien planets, ambient temperature required him to wear a light jacket to ward off the chill. Lying prone, he doubted anyone below had detected his presence, but was aware that those on the mounds across the way would have a good view of his exposed position. He hoped his shipmates had secured the locations as planned, or he was sure to become a target should things below go awry.

“Don’t move,” Bryan heard as the barrel of a pulse rifle appeared next to his head.

Slowly glancing to one side, without moving either hand, he noted that the dirty boots next to him were not owned by anyone from Independence.

“It took you long enough,” Bryan replied casually as he slowly rolled to one side, looking not to alarm his guest, and keeping both hands in clear view.

Glancing up at the newcomer, he was just in time to see Aeryn use the butt of her rifle against the back of the unsuspecting assailant’s head, causing his eyes to roll back as he tumbled forward unconscious.

“About time you got here,” Bryan joked as he rolled away from Aeryn and back to his rifle to survey the valley below again through the weapon’s optics.

“I had to wait for him to act,” she countered as she slapped restraints on the unconscious man before joining Bryan on the ground.

The pair lay side by side and settled into silence as Bryan and Aeryn watched the events unfold in the valley below. Using the spotting scope, Aeryn scanned the entire space while Bryan used the optics on his rifle to follow the actions of Cris and Istu.

“Here they come,” Aeryn commented as two hover vehicles entered the depression at the far end of the small valley, one at a time.

The pair of vehicles was not identical, the second being far larger than the first. The two watched in silence as they stopped not too far from the waiting pair and settled onto the soft grass. A significant number of beings exited both transports, some species Bryan had never seen before, while others were quite familiar. He silently thanked whatever gods ruled the universe that no Madorians were among the party. However, one of the magazines by his side held the exploding ammunition Azizi created for them just in case. He hoped he would not be forced to use it.

“And now, the show begins,” Bryan commented as the two groups approached each other.

Reaching up to his ear, he activated the small communication device that allowed him to hear the conversation below. Before the mission, all parties on the ground had agreed to go radio silent, a term Bryan introduced. Worried the kidnappers might be monitoring the area for transmissions, they went dark until the very last to avoid betraying their presence.

Chapter 2

Moon X

Cris and Istu stood at the far end of the depression that ran parallel to the ridge on his right and was bordered by the two mounds on his left. Only carrying his blaster sidearm, Cris figured if he needed more than that, he was already screwed. On the other hand, Istu was bristling with weapons in holsters and on slings, but only his pulse rifle was in his hands.

The hovercar that entered the far end of the depression was followed by another larger transport. When both had settled onto their landing skids, Cris could see six individuals of various species emerge first from the larger of the two vehicles, all of whom were well-armed and looked threatening. Only four exited the smaller craft after the others were in place, and Cris could see the client among them.

The guards from the larger transport fanned out in a semicircle, backing the small party of principals that was the center of attention. Everyone seemed to await instructions from one man in particular, a member of the smaller group, and Cris pegged him as the head of the kidnappers. He was big for a Limar but only average for Cheizat and tiny compared to Istu or Bryan.

There had not been a lot of information about the group that had performed the kidnapping beyond the fact that they ran several gambling operations on Major and a casino in space, and were known for using any means at their disposal to collect on debts owed. Luckily for the hostage, no one paid for a dead family member, so he was partially safe for the time being.

Cris pegged the leader of the group as mixed-race, like him, and most likely Limar and Cheizat, for having a cut-throat business attitude. After everyone had exited the transport, Cris signaled Istu to activate their communication gear. Three short, distinct tones told him the others were in place. He felt a sense of satisfaction that his people had not let him down.

“Just the two of you?” the one Cris labeled the leader asked as he and the two flanking him approached, holding the hostage firmly between them.

Cris could see the man they were assigned to recover was alive and no worse for wear, although he was wilting between his captors as he hung in their arms. Bracketed by the two thugs, he stood quietly as the rest of the party dispersed, all facing the two of them with weapons in hand.

“It’s not like we are carrying anything heavy, and we expect the client to be able to walk out on his own two feet, with no need for a shootout, as we have payment,” Cris replied as he hefted the coin case, avoiding the question entirely.

“Besides, we don’t want any trouble,” Cris replied honestly.

When the family passed the payment off to the captain, they had counted out 4,352 platinum disks that represented the unpaid losses from their wayward relative, but not a copper more. Cris silently confirmed the amount as they piled the stacks of coins, one next to another, in rows for the case. He felt they should consider themselves lucky that the kidnappers hadn’t added a late fee to the total.

The total number of coins was still light enough to carry with one hand, the antigravity case offsetting the actual weight of the metal disks, and was locked tightly. Cris knew the lock was keyed to the hostage’s touch and that guaranteed no live hostage, no payment.

“You want to open the case and show us the money?” the leader of the kidnappers asked, pointing to the object Cris carried.

“I can’t open it, only he can,” Cris explained as he motioned at the captive.

“Ah, a biometric lock to ensure his good health. Well, at least still alive,” the man joked.

“Indeed,” Cris replied as he stepped forward about half the distance and then set the case on the ground before backing away.

Doing his best not to look at the mounds or the ridge around them, Cris hoped his people had truly been able to secure the locations, as the moment of truth was fast approaching. Once the case was opened, the integrity of the villains they were dealing with would be put to the ultimate test.

“You, go get it,” the leader ordered.

“I’m afraid not. He can open it where it rests, a show of good faith on both sides. If you have him and the money there is no assurances you will not back out,” Cris replied with his hand resting on the butt of his blaster.

“A bold statement for someone so outgunned,” the man replied.

“It’s not the number of shooters that count, it’s their skill,” Cris replied in an unwavering response.

“Besides, you are the only target we see,” Cris explained.

The leader considered the statement in silence before replying.

“Open it there, but make sure we can see the contents from here,” the man directed before motioning his men to release the captive.

With all eyes on the man responsible for this interaction, the hostage moved cautiously toward the case and then placed his palm on the surface. An audible click sounded in the silence as the locking mechanism released its grip and the lid popped open to reveal the gleaming coins within.

“Looks about right,” the leader exclaimed as the hostage moved toward Cris and Istu.

“4,352 platinum as specified, I watched them count it myself,” Cris confirmed as he waved the hostage toward him.

“Not just yet,” the leader responded as he fired a shot at the ground before the moving hostage, halting his progress.

“Don’t be stupid, you got what you wanted, so let’s all just depart peacefully and in one piece,” Cris announced, his blaster now in hand but not pointed at anyone in particular.

“The payment is for the debt owed. The issue of a forced collection has not been addressed to my satisfaction. If we don’t make an example of him, then others might decide to follow in his footsteps. We can’t have anyone thinking they can evade debt payment,” the man replied with some disdain.

The statement made Cris frown as he accepted that this wouldn't be an easy out after all.

----*----

Moon X

“Crap,” Bryan mumbled as the scene below him started to go sideways.

The fact that everyone had their weapons drawn and pointed at one another was an indication that the transfer was not going to be a peaceful one. To this point, the conversation had been very businesslike, but he had a bad feeling there was more resentment under the covers than had been expected. Nothing was more predictable than a crime boss who feels disrespected, regardless of the species.

“And what were you thinking was adequate payment for such an offence? This inconvenience and disrespect,” Bryan heard Cris ask the man over the communication link.

“Here it comes,” Bryan heard Aeryn whisper next to him.

Bryan took the shooting position at this point, allowing him to focus on the shot he knew was coming.

“Maybe we just take a hand, that way the next time he gambles, he is reminded to pay on time with the good one,” the man replied as he waved the blaster in his hand.

Bryan had caught Cris’s comment earlier that the leader was the primary target, so he reduced the field of view on his scope to just that one individual.

“You think losing a hand is fair compensation to teach someone a lesson of respect?” Cris repeated pointedly.

“Bryan….” Aeryn started.

“Yeah, I got the message,” he replied as he lined up the shot.

“I do,” the man stated, followed by a howling shriek as the blaster exploded in his hand.

The round from Bryan’s rifle had passed through the flesh in his left hand only to impact the charging cell in the grip of the gun. The following explosion was large enough to vaporize the flesh and bone of the appendage, luckily cauterizing the stump in the process. Not waiting for instructions, Bryan continued to fire on the closest guards, wounding several in quick succession but avoiding kill shots where he could with strikes to legs and arms.

As if on cue after the first shot, Cris dove for the hostage, tackling him and taking him to the ground while Istu raked the surprised guards with pulse rifle fire. Bryan placed several nonlethal shots into the closest of the hostiles, causing them to drop their weapons and clutch at the wounds while the rest retreated with their still screaming leader shielded in their midst.

In a flash, the two transports retreated from the scene with two of their wounded companions left behind to fend for themselves.

“Bryan, you and Aeryn stay put and keep an eye out for their return, but I need Zaim and Kylo down here. Now,” Cris ordered through the comm link as he rose to his feet, and then handed off the hostage to Istu while he checked on the wounded.

Gathering their guns and tossing them where they couldn’t be easily accessed, he pulled out a med kit they had stashed for use if things went bad. Fortunately, it wasn’t his crew that needed medical treatment. Working quickly, he was able to stem the bleeding and determined that Bryan’s hits were all well-placed and not fatal.

“When they come to get you, tell your boss that we agree his hand was fair compensation for messing with us,” Cris explained as he laid the open coin case next to the wounded pair and finished bandaging the injuries.

----*----

Pantera Major Spaceport

“Can we get a gig for once where I don’t have to shoot someone?” Bryan asked as Cris paid out the shares from their latest effort.

“I will admit, since you came on board, we have had a significant number of engagements that require your particular set of talents,” Cris replied lightly as he passed Bryan his pay pouch.

“One may propose that because of your abilities, we are taking on more work that we might have historically passed on. Take it as a compliment,” Seren countered with a bright smile as she batted her eyes at him.

Bryan was perplexed about the doctor and her consistently flirty attitude. While he had been spending the lion’s share of his free time with Aeryn, Seren still managed to lay claim to the occasional tryst that seemed to bother Aeryn not at all. If anything, on the few occasions the topic arose, the first officer encouraged him to provide for the doctor’s personal needs as a morale issue.

When he added Azizi’s interest in him into the mix, he had to acknowledge that the situation was not totally without appeal. However, the alien attitudes toward lack of commitment and nonexistent boundaries remained a mystery to him.

“We also have a bonus for our token human crewmember,” Cris announced after all the coin sacks were distributed.

Waving to Istu, the captain stepped aside as the towering alien produced a long-barreled weapon from behind the seating in the lounge area and unceremoniously dropped it on the table in front of Bryan.

“What is that?” Bryan asked as he studied the item before him, afraid to touch it before he knew its identity.

“As we surmised, the kidnappers had two shooters, one on each of the mounds. Snipers, I believe you call them. This is a particle beam rifle, the distance weapon I described during our planning session. We took them both as we felt this was fair compensation for the extra effort required to ensure the transaction went smoothly. They are quite pricey on the open market, and the crew and I felt you deserved this prize, rather than reselling it,” Cris declared proudly.

“We did sell the other one, though,” Istu offered with a smile.

“Besides, you are only shooting people to save our hides, so this is in our self-interest,” Cris added.

“Thanks, I think. I don’t suppose it came with a manual in a language I can actually read?” Bryan asked as he examined the controls distributed all over the thing. There were switches, buttons, and dials of varying colors.

“I am familiar with it, I can show you how it works,” Aeryn declared with a rare public smile.

Bryan could tell she was happy for a chance to trade roles, as he had been the one teaching of late. Most of the crew still distrusted the human firepower and tactics he had brought aboard, but all seemed comfortable with it in his hands when the time came to use them. To increase the familiarity, Aeryn, Istu, and Cris had all taken instruction from him on the use of the rifles and handguns. The weapons were ill-suited to Kylo and Zaim, as their physical forms did not match the trigger and magazine release. Before that, he had never noticed that the pair had their weapons targeted for their particular species.

Bryan had used the replicator in engineering to fabricate copies of everything he had brought aboard and placed the new spares in the ship’s armory, keeping his originals. Only the exploding ammunition was exempt from general availability, and it was kept tucked away in his cabin for safekeeping. In addition to shooting skills, Aeryn had wanted to learn the sneak tactics he had used to save her life on E857-C. While she still avoided talking about the events that transpired there in great detail, she was a diligent student.

“As for the next gig, as Bryan called it, we are without an assignment at the moment, so I suggest we all enjoy the downtime while it lasts,” Cris finished before leaving the rest of the crew to fend for themselves.

Under its Stargazer persona, Independence was resting in the Pantera Major spaceport area designated for ships not currently in use as cargo haulers or public mass transport ships. It was a long-term parking spot for those liveaboard ships not engaged in commercial enterprise at the docks.

Surrounding the Independence were vessels of all shapes and sizes, but the majority were smaller personal transport or private charters waiting for their next customer. Many of the more affluent residents on Major in need of space travel were not rich enough for their own ships, but were not about to travel with the dregs of the universe on open commercial flights.

For these discrete travelers, a broad spectrum of options was available from private shipowners looking to make a coin, hauling them across the stars on private charters. Most of these travelers were merchants, executives of commercial or consumer enterprises, and wealthy vacationers seeking to venture off-world for a relaxing adventure. This was the perfect place for Stargazer to hide out, as the foot traffic was far less than at the trading docks, and the customers who did venture in were focused on their personal needs and not poking their noses into the other ships nearby.

“OK, what now?” Bryan asked the others sitting around the table.

“Let’s stow your new toy first, and then I say we hit the streets for some fun,” Aeryn suggested in an upbeat tone.

“I can’t go. I need to get some work done here, but you guys go have a good time,” Azizi replied as she got up with a frown on her face and made her way toward the engineering section of the ship.

Bryan wondered if Azizi didn’t suffer from some form of alien bipolar condition, as she had measurable mood swings. Mostly, she was happy, carefree, and game for any adventure, but occasionally she would sequester herself in engineering, forgoing any interaction with the others unless it was unavoidable.

During these times, he debated whether he should respect her solitude or make an extra effort to engage and help her through her apparent funk. Then again, he knew absolutely nothing about the Gazht race beyond her, and this behavior could be expected for her species. He decided to ask Seren at his first opportunity to confirm or debunk his concerns before becoming too involved in her private affairs.

“I’m game, we all need a good laugh even if we don’t realize it,” Seren replied with a bright smile, as if reading his mind, as she indicated the departing engineer.

“Me too,” Kylo added, his reptilian grin striking a fierce expression.

Istu and Zaim waved the offer off before exiting the room, and none of the others were surprised or offended at their response. Bryan had come to understand that Zaim’s behavior was not just a dislike for him as a human; there was more to it. He had always been a bit of a loner before Bryan had arrived aboard ship. Istu also ran hot and cold with social activities, and it was not easy to predict what adventures might draw the man’s interest. Also, anything that smacked of a chick outing was avoided strictly in principle, he exuding the alien version of machismo.

Thus, Kylo, Aeryn, Seren, and Bryan were the social center of Independence as regulars. Cris would participate on an irregular basis, but Bryan admired the captain’s dedication to keeping his ship and crew well-paid and safe, at the expense of his social life.

“OK, let’s meet at the loading ramp in ten,” Aeryn announced as the group all rose and headed off to prepare for time in town.

Chapter 3

Pantera Major

Bryan was both surprised and pleased with the new rifle the crew had presented him. He had no idea as to the actual usefulness of the weapon, as that was something yet to be determined. Still, the gesture supported the notion that they valued his contribution to their efforts at survival. In addition, he was happy with his new toy for no other reason than the alien technology fascinated him in general and weapons specifically.

He lamented the loss of the gun collection he had left behind on Earth. An avid shooter since childhood, he had a considerable number of hunting, target, and military arms that he had amassed over the years, sitting idly in the safes at home. Fortunately, he had his few favorites with him on the fateful day he encountered Cris in the desert, but there were many more he pined for as they sat unused in the steel boxes back on Earth. He wondered if perhaps Azizi could help him recreate a few of his special-use weapons.

Arriving early, he scanned the city beyond the open doors as he stood alone at the bow loading ramp, waiting for the others. Unlike the planets he had visited after first joining the crew, where most were rustic and implied they were in the middle of an effort to grow toward modernization, this city told a different tale. This place was well established, modern-looking, and likely hadn’t changed in hundreds of years. Aeryn had explained that the Pantera system was about as close as one might come to a core planet without actually being on one of the ruling worlds.

Bryan had learned that the reference regarding the core planets had nothing to do with their physical location; instead, it described their status in the universe. Core planets made up the nexus of the interstellar government and decided the way of the universe for everyone else. Once a consensus was reached among the core worlds, the laws that followed were enforced regardless of dissenting opinion anywhere in the known universe. As far as he knew, Bryan had never encountered one of the species that ruled the universe, but that didn’t upset him, as their minions were enough trouble.

He knew well that the Enforcers were merciless in pursuing those rejecting the rule of interstellar law, which was why the outer rim planets were so popular among the more rebellious or less fortunate. True freedom was hard to come by, and living on the fringe made you less visible to those enforcing the law.

“Ready?” he heard from behind as Aeryn, Seren, and Kylo appeared one after another through the hatch separating the cargo hold from the rest of the ship.

The three aliens were all dressed in their typical casual attire. Aeryn sported her black-on-black ensemble, complete with long sleeves over her usual short or sleeveless shirt. The added open vest was indicative of her version of a jacket for additional warmth. Seren was wearing a powder blue jumpsuit, festive in contrast to the typical gray or tan, the color selection suggesting to Bryan that she was in a positive mood. Kylo wore his characteristic gray jumpsuit, which Bryan likened to a mechanic’s overalls, only cleaner and better fitting.

Of the four, only Bryan wore a full jacket, as his tolerance for the naturally cold climate on Major was less attuned than that of his crewmates. He estimated the air temperature to be in the high thirties to low forties in degrees Fahrenheit, and the others shrugged it off as inconsequential. He noted both Seren and Kylo smirking at his jacket, though neither commented.

“Just wait until we find a nice hot planet, then we will see who is laughing,” he mumbled, nodding in reply.

Of the crew, only Bryan and Cris could handle temperatures in excess of one hundred degrees for extended periods without artificial cooling attire, and Cris claimed one hundred and ten was his high point. Bryan had endured hours in the deserts of Arizona, often at temperatures ten degrees hotter than that, on many occasions, although shade was usually available. He recalled that he had tolerated up to 170-degree steam saunas, which were typically limited to short exposures and followed by a plunge into a cool water pool. He was sure that at the level of heat, the rest of the crew would be melted.

Initially, he thought it odd that so many interstellar species couldn’t handle extreme heat, and then he remembered dogs on Earth were not well suited to endure the same temperature extremes as this crew. Dogs couldn’t handle temperatures above ninety degrees for more than four hours in a row without relief, or so he had been told. He was far too caring to test that theory on any pet.

“By your leave, ma’am,” Bryan declared with a flair of arm movement, indicating the first officer should go first and lead the way.

With Aeryn heading up the group, the small party exited the ship and wandered into the labyrinth of streets that comprised the community near the spaceport. Here, there were more shops and casual entertainment establishments with none of the warehouses or industrial businesses seen elsewhere. This area was strictly retail, and there was plenty of it, no matter your species.

“Does anyone need to shop?” Aeryn asked, referencing the many stores and businesses along their path.

“Maybe on the way back, I don’t want to carry packages all day,” Kylo replied with a shrug as he gazed into a nearby window.

“Smart,” Bryan added, dismissing any idea he had about browsing.

He had an unfortunate tendency to impulse buy, as he was constantly surprised and fascinated by the items displayed in the alien shops. Clothes that regulated warm and cool temperatures, personal antigravity harnesses that adjusted the wearer to local conditions, entertainment devices whose functions he had no clue about, and a litany of other items all attracted his interest.

He had to constantly remind himself that his cabin was only so large, and none of these vendors sold a multidimensional warper that would provide him with more space in his cabin for storage. Frequently, he had to forgo a purchase, not due to a lack of funds, but rather because there was no room to store it.

“Food then?” Seren offered.

“I could eat,” Aeryn replied, and the rest nodded acceptance, though more in a go along to get along sort of reply.

Kylo was noncommittal, as his species consumed food at a frequency the others would find uncomfortable. Bryan had known the alien to skip meals for days at a time, only to find the man polishing off a feast that would satisfy three or four of the others. Then he would go without once more.

“This looks good,” Aeryn announced as she led the group into one of the many businesses Bryan would call a diner.

Nothing fancy; the place was busy enough to imply the food was good, while not overly crowded. Finding a table in one corner of the room, all ordered drinks from the humanoid server and waited for them to arrive. Bryan wasn’t sure of the waiter’s species and just added the question to the list in his head for later.

“Hey Seren, why does Azizi seem to run hot and cold. On Earth, we would call her moody,” he said.

“You know that Azizi goes naked when she can because she can sense the systems on the ship. Clothes can interfere with that interaction and block her unity with Independence,” Seren started.

“Yes, so?” Bryan pressed.

“Well, what you call moody is just her reaction to lengthy periods where she is blocked from her unity with the ship. Also, if Independence needs maintenance or repairs, it depresses her, so she will focus on addressing these issues before meeting her personal needs and wants,” she answered.

“What you are saying is Aziz’s moods reflect Independence’s good health,” Bryan reasoned.

“Pretty much, if she is enjoying her time on Independence, then we are all better for it,” Seren added.

“ I wonder sometimes if she doesn't yearn for the acceptance of her people,” Kylo inserted.

“She knows that will never happen. Her species has eons of tradition that would have to unravel before she could be free among her kind,” Seren replied firmly.

“I guess we need to make sure she knows we are her people now,” Aeryn observed.

“She does,” Seren replied, dismissing the notion as evident.

“I hear Aeryn quite enjoyed her outing in Bryan’s wild transport,” Kylo offered out of the blue with a reptilian smile.

By now, Bryan had spent enough time with the alien navigator to recognize the expression on the inhuman face, and the taunting tone of his words confirmed the intent. Typically good-natured, unlike his companion on the bridge, Kylo was not above stirring up trouble so long as it was entertaining to him and all in good fun.

“That deathtrap! I am quite certain that my internal organs are still not returned to their proper placement from the constant pounding, and as for the bouncing external bits, well…” she declared as she rolled her eyes.

“Maybe my external bits are just used to Bryan’s abuse,” Aeryn countered in good humor.

“Hear, hear,” Bryan offered before thinking.

The reply got him dark looks from both women. Apparently, it was OK for the two women to spar regarding his attentions, but he had delivered a comment that suggested he sided with one over the other. It is evident that his tap dancing in a mine field had yielded an explosion of unknown magnitude.

“I don’t think you are going to see any but Azizi’s external bits anytime soon,” Kylo commented softly to Bryan, his smug look relaying the self-satisfied confirmation that his work was done here.

Bryan suspected that fixing things with Aeryn would be challenging, while all it took with Seren was to show up naked.

----*----

Independence hangar

The trip into town had been a nice distraction, but yielded no real events of value. Kylo had done some shopping on their return while Seren and Aeryn continued to give him a cold shoulder for his earlier remark. He imagined it would sort itself out in good time and chose not to press the issue with either of the women. Upon their return, Bryan decided he should make himself scarce, so he headed to the shuttle bay to do some catch-up work from the last mission.

“What are you doing?” Aeryn asked as she entered the shuttle hangar bay, her casual manner displaying a familiarity that suggested forgiveness for the earlier transgression.

Earlier events aside, Bryan and Aeryn were in a relationship lull at the moment, as while he was still quite taken with her, she was not accustomed to the focused, regular attention he was willing to provide. It wasn’t that he was clingy, at least not in a human context. It was that the Cheizat idea of being a couple still involved lengthy intimacy gaps and occasional involvement by others. He wondered if it was tied to the notion that you could live well over one hundred years, so the concept of the same life partner had an entirely different context. It was all very confusing to his human ideals.

Like now, she slid up next to him, her body pressing against his as they both peered into the back of the Jeep. The action was welcome but unclear, as it was the first effort she had made at initiating affection in some time. On more than one occasion, Aeryn had seemed to deflect Bryan’s offers of recreation toward Seren or Azizi while picking and choosing other opportunities for herself.

Ultimately, he decided to stop trying so hard and just let things happen naturally. He still feared the inevitable disaster that the unmanaged approach allowed, but he had very little choice in the matter.

“Maintenance and clean up after the last job,” he replied just as casually as he continued clearing unwanted debris from the back of the Jeep.

After the ransom mission, Bryan and Aeryn returned to Rogue in the Jeep and then met with Independence in orbit. Stowed in the small hangar space aboard Rogue, he had only just removed the vehicle from inside the small craft and was now cleaning the dirt and rubbish collected during their trip on the moon.

Bryan was learning that, unlike life on Earth, where a minor road grime was a badge of honor for off-road vehicles, things in space required a more sterile existence. In low to zero gravity, dirt, dust, and grime could travel throughout the ship and get into places that didn’t take well to the introduction of foreign matter. As it was, Cris had instructed Bryan on the operation and use of the debris collection system that sucked up anything he dislodged from his Jeep to be disposed of in space once they left the spaceport.

He laughed at the alien vacuum but used it all the same. He was always meticulous in its use, as anything he sucked up went straight to incarceration.

“I half expected to see Azizi’s bare legs sticking out from underneath,” she joked.

After Bryan and the engineer had reworked the vehicle, the Gazht female had taken a liking to the human transport. While never having ridden in a four-wheel drive, as most of the alien vehicles Bryan had seen levitated, she seemed fascinated by its construction and operation. Bryan had offered to take her out with him on several occasions, but to date, the woman seemed content to tinker together when the two had spare time.

“No. She’s heads down on some project in engineering, though I did ask her if she wanted to help. I think it’s like Seren said, she is trying to make Independence feel better,” he replied, affirming that it was a possibility to consider.

“What’s up with you?” Bryan asked, as Aeryn’s behavior was both pleasing and unusual.

“I’m bored. We are all caught up on the ship’s chores, and the captain is still looking for work, so not here. I was hoping you might be doing something fun, but I can see that’s not what’s happening here,” she complained.

He considered that Aeryn wasn’t her usual serious self, and this interaction could almost be regarded as flirty.

“If you want to get undressed, you can slide under the Jeep, and I’ll pretend you are Azizi,” he laughed, teasing the first officer and testing the waters.

“If I get naked, it’s not the Jeep I’m sliding under,” she countered as she leaned in and kissed him aggressively.

Dropping the things in his hands, he took her in his arms and returned the kiss properly.

“I can see I’m done here for the moment,” he commented as they paused long enough to head to Aeryn’s cabin, which was the closest.

Apparently, as much as he fought the urge, just going with the flow had been the right decision after all.

----*----

Independence Bridge

Kylo and Bryan were together on the bridge after his interlude with Aeryn. Relieved of her earlier boredom, she had run off to the galley for a meal while he headed to the bridge for a prescheduled appointment with Kylo. In their free time, the two had been tinkering with the settings for the language translator the human used to enable more accurate communications with the others aboard Independence.

In their effort to improve the exchange of information between languages, items such as time, distance, and temperature could be hard-coded into the device configuration for more accurate conversions. This meant Bryan no longer had to do the mental calculations when they talked, and allowed the others to get a more precise response in return when the human offered his opinion on issues involving these things.

Less exact concepts like love, hate, joy, anger, and friendship were refined to better relate to the context in whatever exchange was being conducted. The difference between I love this drink and I love you was altered to reflect the joy of a relationship in comparison to the satisfaction of the refreshment. As they worked together on various categories, it was decided that humor was too big a task to undertake at this time, and for now, the confusion Bryan caused with his sarcasm was left for the individuals involved to clarify or ignore at their whim. Most just ignored his comments.

Zaim was nowhere to be found during this time, and Bryan had to wonder where the pilot went when not on the bridge.

“We have a job from a contact on Minor,” Cris announced as he entered the bridge where the pair were working.

“Not another gambling debt collection,” Kylo bemoaned.

“No such luck, we did make a fortune on that job. It’s a passenger transport. We have a one-way booking to Cypho 3,” Cris replied casually.

The look on Kylo’s face was so pronounced that even Bryan could tell the answer had surprised the Brigmuns.

“Cris, Cypho 3 is a core planet,” the navigator replied cautiously.

“So?” Cris asked in return, an air of unconcern in the reply.

“Independence is wanted on all the core worlds. I shouldn’t have to tell you that. We wouldn’t get within a light year of that place before the Enforcers were upon us,” Kylo responded firmly.

Bryan smiled privately as light year had been one of the translations the two had recently added to the data dictionary. The concept of the speed of light was well known across all races and planets, but it varied locally based on the density of planetary atmospheres versus a constant in space. In the past, it would have translated as a light cycle in English to Bryan.

“Yes, that’s true as they are looking for Independence, but they are not looking for Skydancer,” Cris replied with a smile before departing the bridge.

Chapter 4

Skydancer

“Skydancer?” Bryan asked Aeryn as the crew gathered in the galley while waiting for Cris’s appearance.

The first officer was still eating when the meeting was called and had just cleaned up when the others began arriving.

“Yes, it’s another alias, like Stargazer. Independence is part of a class of starships that were once very popular. Many ships of this hull type still ply their chosen trade between the various systems of the universe. Now and then, one runs afoul of the dangers of deep space, and their damage or near destruction is not recorded in any government registry. The unfortunate captains, should they survive the catastrophe, sell the destroyed ship’s papers on the black market to another vessel owner and secretly pocket the payment. Other times, it may be a third-party owner that profits from the sale after the ship and crew vanish,” Aeryn offered with a shrug.

“They aren’t outlaw ships like us, the ship IDs that are for sale on the down low?” Bryan questioned.

“Some are, which makes their papers less valuable, but still worth the cost to vessels ducking more severe charges. Failure to pay taxes and fees garnishes less punishment than smuggling. Fortunately, Cris has purchased a few clean identities over the cycles that have legitimate standing, and, with a little spoofing of the ID transponder, it allows us to move in and out of the civilized parts of the cosmos unmolested,” she explained.

Bryan noted that a more relaxed and easy-going Aeryn emerged from her cabin after their tryst and considered that Seren was not the only one who needed an intimacy fix now and then to take the edge off. In truth, the experience did him a world of good as well. His youthful body had reestablished appetites that he had long abandoned in his old age.

“Don’t you risk losing your purchased identity if you use it too much?” he asked as he concentrated on the conversation.

“In reality, we risk losing it if we don’t use it often enough. Having the name appear in a major port after cycles of nonuse would raise suspicion or at least inspire questions about the absence. We occasionally try to establish a presence all over the known universe to lend the identity some legitimacy. It’s not if you use it, it’s where and how you use it that matters. We avoid all government contracts and high-profile activities, regardless, for in those cases they look at the crew as well as the ship,” she explained

Bryan considered her explanation and could see the logic behind it. For a ship to disappear and reappear at odd times and places would be a red flag, but to show it in various parts of the universe would suggest a pattern of long-haul activities explaining the infrequent appearance in any one location.

In places where legitimate commercial traffic and nongovernment activities were common, and the smuggling, so prevalent at the rim, was almost nonexistent, the ship and crew would go unnoticed. So long as they stayed off the Enforcers' radar in the space region, they were safe to operate openly.

“I still don’t get it, though. We leave Major as Stargazer and arrive on Cypho 3 as Skydancer, that’s going to draw attention from someone on high,” he theorized.

“You are close. We leave Major as Stargazer, yes, destined for an unregulated planet where our expected arrival won’t be recorded. However, we also filed a separate flight plan from Minor as Skydancer, and that’s who arrived at Cypho 3. Since Minor doesn’t have a proper spaceport to speak of, they process all their government documents here, and there would have been no record of Skydancer’s arrival on Minor anyway,” she explained.

“Does Skydancer pay taxes on the job?” Bryan challenged.

“Private transport isn’t taxed like cargo, but the vessel must be licensed for such business to help ensure passenger safety. We keep our licenses current, which comes from the two parts in ten payouts for the jobs we take,” she replied proudly.

“We pay the license fees on time and always pass inspection,” she beamed.

“Isn’t that risky, inspectors on board with everyone wanted by the Enforcers?” he questioned.

“The inspection is done by the port authority and not the Enforcers. Besides, they are looking at the ship, not the crew. Crew members come and go, but the space worthiness of the ship is what matters,” she affirmed.

“Still seems to me like we are playing with fire,” Bryan replied as he shook his head.

“Gotta make a living somehow, and transporting rich people pays well and is less work than cargo in most cases. Besides, you should be happy. I can’t imagine how you would need to shoot someone on this job? As a rule, the passengers from Minor are well behaved if not overly demanding of the amenities,” she countered sarcastically.

With that, the conversation died as the rest of the crew appeared with Cris in tow.

“We are being chartered to take a group of Pantera Minor citizens to Cypho 3 for improvement relocation,” Cris announced.

“Improvement relocation?” Bryan questioned softly.

“It’s a fancy way of saying they are going to Cypho 3 for advanced schooling,” Seren explained.

“College kids?” Bryan countered.

“Adults, not kids. Some of the best advanced schools in the universe are on Cypho 3, and this group will attend various institutions there,” Cris explained.

“Medical, Engineering, Science, and Business academies are all housed on Cypho 3,” Seren confirmed.

“How many passengers?” Aeryn inquired of Cris, her role as first officer becoming apparent in the ship’s management.

“Twelve in all. Three couples, four females and two males.”

“What species?” Seren asked, her position as the ship’s doctor requiring that she could render emergency medical assistance while they were aboard Independence.

“It’s a mix, but all humanoid and most are Limar with a few Cheizat,” he affirmed.

Bryan had learned that both Pantera Major and Minor were colonized from a mix of core planets long ago, but the prevailing species was Limar. A trading culture, the Limar were known for their keen business sense and drive to accumulate wealth. That, in part, was the root of their gambling addictions that got them into trouble.

As the population of Major increased with a growing mixture of compatible species, it expanded the city populations, and the cream of Limar migrated to Minor as their wealth permitted. Minor’s population was more homogeneous, with a lack of diversity and fewer species. The early Limar residents were somewhat biased in their choice of who they would allow to be their neighbor.

All the Limar Bryan had seen were smaller than Cheizat but just as human-looking. Their diminutive size likely reflected the intellectual nature of their culture and explained the bravado they displayed with dueling to resolve insults. A Napoleon Complex came to mind when he thought of them.

“Whose double bunking?” Bryan questioned as he did a mental head count.

With eight passenger cabins and twelve passengers, it was assumed the three couples would share one cabin each. That left six people and only five rooms.

“Don’t know, don’t care. I left that for them to decide after I explained the limits of our hospitality and accommodations to the booking agent,” Cris replied with a smile.

“Do we have to go there for the pickup, or are they coming here?” Zaim asked.

“I am told they have a shuttle already booked to make the trip from Minor to the spaceport here. There is no layover in the schedule; they and their luggage will be transferred to Independence, and then we head out once they're settled in,” Cris confirmed.

Bryan recalled that Minor had no spaceport to speak of, only various points on the planet where one could take a short shuttle flight to Major, where all the interstellar ships sat waiting.

“That’s a five-sol jump, I hope they enjoy each other’s company in small quarters,” Kylo offered, setting the context for the voyage.

“The cargo hold should be empty except for the small amount of luggage they are bringing with them. I thought we might temporarily alter the space for a more appropriate use. Maybe a lounge and gaming area?” he proposed.

“I hope you don’t mean gambling?” Aeryn countered cautiously.

“Heavens no. We aren’t licensed for that, and I wouldn’t want to run afoul of accusations of cheating with illegal gaming. Limar gamblers hate to lose at the best of times, especially when the games are legal and heavily regulated. We would almost certainly be accused of dishonesty by the time we reached Cypho 3, and I see no advantage to the risk. I meant holographic sports and video entertainment, theater, and music productions,” he explained.

Bryan had no idea what Cris was talking about, but he was sure he wanted to check out the technology used for entertainment. So far, the only thing he had seen for onboard games were the holographic tabletop amusements as board games. He attempted to teach Aeryn chess at one point, after Kylo had programmed the game into the system under Bryan’s direction, with mixed results.

She liked that it was generally considered a military strategy game, but failed to see the similarity in the details. He explained the concepts of risk and reward, defense versus offense, and a war of attrition, but all she saw were unfamiliar pieces with bizarre movements and arbitrary rules.

“The best part of this deal is I landed a tax-free cargo shipment for the return leg, so we make money both ways,” Cris explained cryptically.

“Tax-free cargo?” Bryan asked skeptically.

“Smuggling,” Aeryn replied softly.

----*----

Independence Bridge

It had been two days since Cris announced the latest effort, and the crew had been busy preparing the ship for the rich and spoiled Pantera Minor passengers. The Limar customers had high expectations and were willing to pay top dollar to travel in comfort, so Cris had purchased numerous upgrades and enhancements. By the time the departure day had come, they were ready to roll out the red carpet.

“Cris, we have a little issue to address,” Aeryn offered as she entered the bridge.

Cris was working with Kylo on the flight plans to be registered with space operations, one for Stargazer and one for Skydancer. They needed the two to be uniquely separate, but so close to identical that, should anyone ever come checking up on the information, the departures would be interchangeable. The goal was to allow the Independence to appear as two vessels simultaneously, at least in the paperwork.

“Passengers not happy with their small rooms?” he asked in jest.

“Two of those females you booked, the ones sharing a cabin, are Gazht,” she explained earnestly.

“That was never disclosed to me,” he replied, all the humor gone from his tone.

Azizi was the one exception on Independence that wasn’t wanted by the Enforcers or under a death sentence, but that didn’t mean she was safe. A Gazht, she was wanted on her home planet as a cultural criminal. Her fugitive status was not for any crimes she committed there, but was because she was considered insane by her people and in need of treatment. All citizens of her world took it upon themselves to report Gazht individuals acting in a nonconforming manner to their government. The species had a reputation to uphold for uniformity and self-control, and they took it seriously.

For that reason, as a rule, Cris avoided the Gazht home world altogether to prevent any accidental exposure and jobs related to any members of the race as a whole to protect the engineer. They were not well known for venturing too far from their solar system, so it hadn’t been all that difficult in the past until now.

“What are they doing on Minor?” Cris asked out of curiosity.

“They are contracted to one of the engineering firms here on Major and are going to Cypho 3 for training on new structural manufacturing processes. The company exists on Major but builds upscale residences for the rich and famous of Minor,” Aeryn replied.

Construction on Minor was tightly controlled, and the manner in which structures were erected was heavily regulated by the planetary government. All the builder’s corporate offices must reside off-planet, as Minor doesn’t allow commercial entities. Its purpose was all exclusive residential. No damage to the ecosystem was tolerated, and construction waste was unacceptable. The limits burdened those trying to make a profit in the construction of planetary surface structures there.

Many buildings, both commercial and residential, were assembled off-planet and ferried from Major and dropped in place, section by section. It was a matter of status to build an estate on the planet’s surface, and for that reason, companies were constantly improving on the methods they used to compete in the lucrative market. Wealthy individuals paid huge sums, allowing them to boast that their homes were built locally, on Minor, and not delivered from off-world.

“That figures. Have you talked to Azizi about this?” Cris mumbled.

“Yes, I gave her a heads up, and she is sequestered in engineering for the moment. I ensured our guests knew the engineering space is off-limits to all passengers. We can’t risk a chance encounter in the galley or lounge during the voyage, however. I wish we could make the entire crew deck off-limits to anyone not a member of the crew, but that’s where the food is,” Aeryn commented.

When the ship was outfitted as a personal transport craft before Cris’s acquisition, the passenger deck had everything the owner could wish for in terms of amenities. However, meals were prepared in the standard ship’s galley located one deck above, where the crew cabins were. As he or she cooked for passengers and crew, it had never been challenged as a design consideration to have a second galley. It was considered convenient for those serving passengers to live near their workplace. There were stewards to service the needs of the owner and his guests, bringing meals to them once they were prepared. Now that Independence was a working vessel, any paying passengers enjoyed the company of the crew in the dining and entertainment common area.

Aeryn could see that Cris was pondering the situation and suddenly lit up with a smile.

“Agreed. I have an idea that might solve that problem. Follow me,” Cris replied with a sparkle in his eye.

----*----

Independence Cargo Bay

As word spread about the new arrivals, Bryan was eager to catch a glimpse of the passengers, particularly the Gazht, so he watched from the corner of the cargo bay. He could see the new arrivals passing through Seren’s and Zaim’s scanners. The doctor was checking all passengers for health and welfare issues, while Zaim filled in for Kylo and searched for contraband and threats to the ship’s well-being hidden in their shipping containers and luggage.

As Azizi was the only one of her species Bryan had ever seen up close, he wanted to get a good look at what the Gazht race considered normal. He felt bad for his crewmate when he thought that the engineer had to hide from her people just to be free to be herself. He would give anything to have a few Earth humans around to interact with, well, the right kind anyway, as his own race had their issues at times. While his new life in space was exciting, he occasionally missed home and the ability to talk to someone who understood what he said.

He reflected on the nature of the experience here, comparing it to his occasional deployments with the Marines. No matter where he went, there was always a small comfort in knowing he would eventually return home, which made the experience tolerable. Here, that was not on the table. Cris was the closest thing he had to a human companion, as the captain’s mother had taught him a little of her home world, but Bryan knew nothing about the man himself.

Bryan decided he needed to take the first opportunity to learn more about the captain’s human mother if possible. As he thought about Cris’s mother, the two tell-tale gray-haired women appeared for Seren’s inspection. Dressed almost identically, they wore loose-fitting attire that he could only describe as bland, with the look and feel of being Amish. The dull grey and light brown materials were of a fine weave, but uniform in color, and did their best to mask what lay beneath. Unlike Azizi, whose body was generally on display, these two were hardly discernible as female.

“Bryan, a word,” he heard as Cris and Aeryn appeared at his side, the man’s entrance tracking his thoughts unnervingly.

“Scanning the females, looking for a date?” Aeryn teased, using the human term he had taught her.

By now, almost all the passengers were aboard and milling about the cargo hold, working with Istu as he secured their packing crates for the voyage to Cypho 3.

“Na, Limar are too short,” Bryan replied sarcastically with a casual offhanded manner.

While the thought had never crossed his mind, as the three women aboard Independence already took up more time than he wanted to juggle, he did concede that a few of the new arrivals were more than appealing to look at. Shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts, he gave Aeryn’s smiling face an evil glance and acknowledged her witchy ways of messing with his head.

She seemed to delight in screwing with his thoughts at the most unexpected times. In part, it was a mess of his own making, but not limited to him, as even Cris had noticed that Bryan’s impact on the first officer had altered her typically somber personality. A new, happy, playful Aeryn had slowly emerged, which had the entire crew both surprised and confused at times.

“I was thinking about your comment earlier, you know, looking for an opportunity to contribute without shooting someone in the process,” Cris began.

Bryan gave the captain his full attention as he began to suspect he was going to regret the passing sarcasm he was so famous for.

“To prevent the passengers from accessing the upper levels of the ship and putting Azizi at risk for discovery, I want to relocate the dining area for the passengers here, in the cargo bay,” he began as he indicated the corner of the cargo hold they occupied.

A significant portion of the vast space had already been designated as a lounge and recreational area for the passengers' entertainment. The spot they occupied was bordered by two large containers that had come aboard with the new arrivals. Bryan suspected they were packed with personal items intended to provide the customers with all the comforts of home when they reached their destination. It seemed excessive to him, but not surprising considering the excesses of the wealthy Limar.

“That requires me to assign a crewmember with some culinary skills to act as chef for the trip. I imagine two prepared meals a day, one in the morning and one in the evening, with a self-serve arrangement throughout the midday, all timed to the ship’s clock. I believe you call it a buffet? That will keep all the passengers off the crew level entirely and allow our engineer greater movement beyond her cabin and the engineering space without risk of detection,” Cris explained.

“If you are asking my opinion, I think it’s a great idea,” Bryan replied with a confused nod of approval.

“Wonderful, then you agree you will handle everything as chef for the trip,” Cris affirmed with a smile and a pat on the back.

“You are kidding, right?’ Bryan asked in surprise as he unsuccessfully tried to slip away from the gesture.

“Not at all. You have prepared meals for the crew on several occasions with great success, so a leap from eight to twelve individuals is not a stretch of your talents. Seren will be here and help you avoid improper dietary or cultural selections, but in general, if you can eat it, so can our passengers,” Cris affirmed.

Bryan knew darn well that he was not just cooking for twelve. The crew would want to partake in the arrangement, so his menu would need to accommodate twenty alien appetites of varying species. Fortunately, Zaim and Kylo could eat everything the other races consumed, although the opposite was not true. It was also more of a palate challenge as edible food was not the same as enjoyable dining. Much of their diet on board ship was bland and uninspired, yet nutritious.

“I’m not sure the galley is big enough for that many meals at once,” Bryan countered, looking for a good reason to decline.

In truth, he was certain the previous owner had provided for much greater numbers in the same space, but he was also aware that there was most likely more than one cook in the kitchen. Adding cabin stewards and support kitchen staff to the mix made the operation tenable, while Cris wanted Bryan to be a one-man band.

“Ah, that’s the best part. As a precaution, I acquired a colony mobile kitchen just for this trip,” Cris replied as he pointed to a container on their side of the cargo bay, the one he had thought to be cargo.

To Bryan, it looked like one of those shipping containers from Earth, with smooth sides instead of corrugated ones and perhaps a little taller and broader. He could detect seams in the metal where he suspected panels opened for easy distribution from inside out. His guess about passenger cargo storage was very wrong.

“The box next to it is a food storage cube, and the two can be mated for easy access while working inside. They are very popular with colonists, and I got this used one for cheap, and it's packed full of compatible edible contents,” Cris explained.

“Do it for Azizi, she is counting on you. You know how she hates being cooped up in one place, and none of the crew can cook like you,” Aeryn appealed while struggling to suppress a smile.

He knew she was faking the pleading sincerity, but the underlying facts were still true. Of all the crew, he was the best option for this, and if he didn’t do it, the female engineer would spend the next five days in hiding and at risk.

“OK, I’ll do it for her,” Bryan conceded with a sigh.

“Excellent. Once we get underway, I will have Istu and Kylo help you set up the kitchen properly. Normally, Azizi would be the logical choice to supervise, but you understand why that’s not an option,” Aeryn explained, rubbing a little salt in the wound.

Bryan felt the first officer was having far more fun with the situation than might usually be expected. Being demoted from the unit’s top marksman to the ship’s cook appeared to be universally funny. Then again, no one shoots the cook.

Chapter 5

Independence Cargo Bay

Directly after liftoff from Pantera Major, both Kylo and Istu came down to assist Bryan in setting up the colony kitchen as promised. Mating the modules proved to be an easy task as both were fitted with antigravity levitators for maneuvering into position. The units had been designed for untrained colonists to construct and operate, so they didn’t require a lot of knowledge to assemble and put into action.

Once Seren had received word that Bryan would be serving meals for the passengers and crew, she hurried down to help as he inspected his new workspace.

“This is nice,” she commented as she stepped inside the larger container.

Bryan had to agree, the kitchen was much bigger than the ship’s galley one deck above their heads, and the Food Storage Unit had been mated to the kitchen like a walk-in freezer. Unlike the galley on the Independence, the sheer number of cooking appliances available to him was daunting. Some things looked familiar, similar to the galley equipment but sized for greater output, while other items were indiscernible in their function.

The operator manuals provided with the portable unit were spread out on one counter. As the manufacturer serviced a vast number of species, the instructions were thankfully visual and audio-enabled, as the written contents were in an alien script and were illegible to the uneducated human. 3D holographic images moved with a running commentary translated into English for Bryan’s benefit.

The fact that half the words had no meaning to him reinforced that his work with Kylo, translating technical jargon into the translator dictionary, was still essential. He had been correct in his earlier assessment that portions of the container opened up to allow food to be passed to the waiting servers or passengers. He had to laugh as the entire thing reminded him of one of the many food trucks he had frequented over his lifetime. The panels were transparent from the inside, and when down, he could still see out into the cargo hold.

As he was moving between the kitchen module and the food storage unit, he caught another glimpse of the two young Gazht women with grey hair and pale, monotone skin. He recalled the vision of Azizi as she changed colors for him, trying to explain her people’s natural state. Both these women were fully clothed and bore the exact short grey haircut as the engineer, but that was the only similarity.

He couldn’t help but wonder what the pair looked like beneath their attire. Did they secretly unleash a color palette that reflected their thoughts and desires that no one could see?

“Gazht,” Seren confirmed as she caught him staring at the two women.

“Yeah, I was curious about them. I like our version better,” he confirmed as he returned to work.

“Me too. They are typically what you would call uptight and rarely show overt emotions,” Seren explained.

“Snappy dressers, too,” Bryan added sarcastically.

“They are generally subdued, to be sure. I am told on the home world they wear more colorful attire when celebrating, but it’s considered inappropriate off world and most other times,” Seren explained.

“OK, enough gawking, we need to plan some meals,” Bryan announced as he dismissed the reason for his current predicament.

While he hated to admit it, he was looking forward to the challenge before him. He did like to cook but held little hope that his efforts would be well received by all.

----*----

Independence

It had been two sols since the Independence had left Pantera Major headed for Cypho 3. Azizi had received word from Aeryn before liftoff concerning the crew's actions to keep the Gazht females off the crew deck, thus freeing her movements up considerably. She was particularly vocal about her appreciation for the role Bryan had assumed that made the whole thing possible.

She was very fond of the human and excited about how he casually embraced her freedom of expression without judgment. She could tell he desired her, and she played off that attraction at every opportunity. His emotional attachment to Aeryn was evident to all, but she cared not, as any restrictive relationship entanglements went against her very grain. Playing with him was fun, but being tied to anyone emotionally was out of the question, no matter how appealing it might be to others.

She was busy with her regular duties when the subject of her thoughts interrupted her activities.

“Azizi, I was wondering if you could help me. I want to make a bigger version of one of my rifles,” Bryan said as he entered the engineering space.

Holding a replicated copy of his 5.56 AR-style rifle, he explained the changes he wanted to make, including a new cartridge with a larger, heavier bullet. She listened to him intently, enjoying the struggle he endured as he tried to ignore her nudity. He had been told many times to stare brazenly, but he held to his belief that doing so was insulting to the recipient. It made the game to break his concentration that much more fun for her.

“What is your end goal with this change?” Azizi asked as she considered his request.

As they spoke, Azizi ignored the weapon he held between them, instead reaching past it to open the front of his shirt, where she inspected the body beneath.

“I want greater reach with a more powerful force of impact,” Bryan explained as he tried to ignore her explorations without success.

“What if I can give you that same result while keeping what you already have?” she replied firmly, abandoning her distractions for the moment to focus on him directly.

“How?” Bryan asked.

“By changing just the ammunition and swapping the projectile material for a heavier metal unknown on Earth, and making them self-propelled. I can double the bullet weight and triple the effective distance without changing the rifle you fire them from,” she explained as she held up one of the 300 Blackout cartridges she had in the engineering lab.

The engineer had heard the human complain on occasion about the limitations of his Earth weapons and had been putting considerable thought into how she might address the issue as a way of showing her appreciation for his efforts on her behalf. Also, it sounded like an interesting challenge.

“You can do that? Won't the recoil be a problem for the heavier bullet?” he asked.

“The heavier bullet at the same velocity will increase recoil some, yes, but the self-propelled projectile won’t ignite until it leaves the barrel, increasing bullet speed and distance without impact to the shooter,” she explained.

She stared into Bryan’s eyes as he considered her explanation. She found him pleasing to look at, but wished he could add some color to his complexion. She thought how fetching he might be in shades of blue or green.

“How soon can you make me some test rounds?” he asked with some excitement.

“I’m already working on that. I want to try several materials, as you haven’t specified the exact impact characteristics you desire. I can make the bullet do many things once it hits their target, so I will make you several to try,” she offered.

“This is going to be fun, you are the best,” Bryan replied, kissing her cheek and smiling, which caused Azizi to glow.

She considered that the feeling of appreciation was almost as good as the feeling of desire.

----*----

Independence Galley

If Bryan had expected anything more than passive acceptance from the passengers for his culinary offerings, he was to be disappointed. He commented to Seren that the travelers seemed unimpressed with his efforts, but never offered to miss a meal. The crew, however, was very pleased with the latest turn of events and openly expressed their appreciation to him.

“Bryan, these Limar have the best of everything on Minor, the most we can hope for is minimal complaints. The crew, on the other hand, wants to make this arrangement permanent,” Seren offered in encouragement as the others gathered in the galley for dinner.

He did notice that even Zaim had left the bridge to partake in the evening’s offering, a rare event indeed.

“I’ve received no complaints about the food,” Aeryn affirmed as she began dishing up the latest offering from Bryan’s culinary efforts.

“No compliments either,” Istu commented casually.

He knew the man meant no malice by the statement. It was more a statement of fact rather than a judgement. Bryan wasn’t looking for external validation; instead, it was an inner desire to do his best that drove him to look for some sign of satisfaction with his efforts. It was his nature to strive to be the best he could be, whether it was shooting bad guys or creating extravagant meals.

To better provide a more lavish menu, Seren had located an alien version of a cookbook that she had translated for Bryan into English. The two had to work through the identification of the ingredients, as most of the items had no Earthly reference. The effort had been worth it, though, as it expanded the number of dishes Bryan could present to the passengers and crew beyond his creations.

“All I can say is we haven’t eaten this good in a very long time!” Kylo offered to the rest of the crew as he dished up a heaping plate.

“I must agree,” Cris confirmed in his usual understated manner.

“What is this anyway? The meat has an unusual flavor,” Azizi said after several bites.

“Tastes like chicken,” was all Bryan offered.

----*----

Cypho 3

Free to roam the crew deck and above, Azizi had made her appreciation known to Bryan on several occasions during the trip to Cypho 3. Between her work on his enhanced ammunition and a few personal thank yous, he was feeling immensely appreciated by the time the voyage had come to an end.

He found cooking for so many had him spending almost all his time in the kitchen as he worked to prepare the next meal. His free time was limited, as there was always the next meal to prepare, and by bedtime, he was exhausted and retired early. Seren did her best to split her duties as her medical challenges were few and simple in nature. Even Aeryn appeared in the kitchen to help him out from time to time as the demands of the passengers seemed endless and trivial.

The lunchtime serve-yourself buffet received the most significant complaints, as the individuals involved had never had to serve themselves in such a manner. Most resorted to a two-meal-a-day schedule rather than demean themselves with self-service. With others, hunger overrode the perceived insult, and by the time they arrived at their destination, it had become routine for many.

Bryan ensured he was on the bridge as the ship approached Cypho 3 to get a good view of their arrival. The first core planet he had ever seen was utterly covered in cities, their lights shining brightly in the dark parts of the world as they looked down from above. What Bryan was familiar with from Earth, in terms of green space management, was applied all over the planet's surface to balance the continuous structures against the population's needs for natural green spaces, such as parks.

Huge areas had been set aside as natural reserves and were the only undeveloped land, while buildings and structures dominated the rest of the surface. Cris informed him that there were also vast undersea cities unseen from this vantage point. An orbiting spaceport, one of many, was just ahead, as land was scarce and too valuable for spaceship parking.

The surface area required to support such activities was considered a waste of resources. To address the need, ships docked with the orbiting stations and shuttles took passengers and cargo to the plant’s surface. Smaller landing platforms serviced the needs of those traveling and supplied goods for the ravenous consumption of the local population.

“Cypho 3 operations, this is Skydancer requesting permission to dock,” Kylo declared smoothly as the rest of the bridge crew listened anxiously.

“This is the make-or-break moment for us. Either they accept us as Skydancer or we bolt before an Enforcer ship can take us in,” Aeryn said softly.

“I thought you said this was no risk?” Bryan asked incredulously.

“Nothing we do is without risk; this is routine, but if our papers are compromised, we won’t know it until now,” she explained.

Bryan imagined it might be more than embarrassing should the wreck of the original Skydancer be discovered, only to have the vessel requesting permission to dock on a core planet. And then there were the passengers to consider. What would they do with the twelve people expecting to land on Cypho 3? Thankfully, that dilemma was not faced as the docking approval came through.

“Skydancer, transmitting docking codes and directions now,” came the reply as Kylo’s navigation console lit up with the reply.

“Aeryn, please inform our passengers we will be in dock within fifteen hectos, and we hope they enjoyed their trip,” Cris announced sarcastically.

“Also, meal service is suspended,” Bryan added with a sigh of relief.

----*----

Cypho 3 Spaceport

“How exactly are we getting the smuggled cargo onboard unnoticed?” Bryan asked as he considered the return trip.

“We just got here, try to enjoy the experience, you might not see it again for some time,” Kylo replied with some impatience.

The fact that the Brigmuns snapped at him that way betrayed the nervousness the navigator suppressed. Like Kylo, Bryan’s unease made him inclined to bypass a trip to the surface and return to the safety of space, putting the core planet and its army of Enforcers in their rear-view mirror.

“Cris requested a maintenance bay on the pretext that we needed repairs on Independence. The maintenance areas are not as closely watched as the regular cargo and passenger transfer berths. Our return cargo will be delivered as crates of parts, intended to address what ails the ship when, in reality, we have no issues whatsoever,” Azizi explained brightly.

Bryan wondered if the engineer was irritated by the inference that her ship was in less than perfect working order, but if it did, she showed no outward signs.

“That only works for small loads. If we filled the hold with parts orders, it would draw the attention of the station inspectors,” Zaim added absently.

The fact that the Alaid commented surprised him, but then Bryan noted Zaim seemed unaffected by their presence on Cypho 3.

“You aren’t nervous here?” he asked openly.

“No, not particularly. Cypho 3 is one of the few planets that draws outsiders from all over the universe. One more Alaid or Cheizat won’t attract attention so long as you avoid the government buildings and mind your own business. I intend to make a trip to the surface, but I’m not going with any of you,” he commented bluntly.

“So, business as usual,” Seren replied sarcastically.

“Exactly,” Zaim responded, ignoring the intended insult.

“Do we know what we are picking up?” Bryan asked.

“That’s what I am finding out later today,” Cris added before leaving the bridge.

Chapter 6

Cypho 3 Spaceport

Once all the passengers and their luggage were offloaded, the crew of Skydancer was free to make their own plans for the rest of the day. Everyone seemed to have their personal agenda for their time here, and Azizi decided to stay put after the near miss with the two Gazht passengers. It wasn’t that she could not blend in if needed; it was her choice not to. The last Bryan saw of her was a wave goodbye and her naked butt disappearing in the engineering hatch.

“Are you sure this is a good idea? I am persona non grata to the Enforcers and the Bounty Hunters,” Bryan said as he, Seren, and Aeryn prepared to exit Independence.

“As are we all. Look, the Bounty Hunters don’t operate on core planets. You might say they are even unwelcome here, and the only image the Enforcers have of you is the one from E857-C. Even your mother wouldn’t recognize you from that image. I should tell you, though, that Azizi has it on the wall in engineering,” Aeryn explained lightly as she teased him.

“What about bio scanners?” he asked, ignoring the taunt.

“Surprisingly, not commonly used on core planets. With so many bodies packed into tight spaces, they are unreliable. Where they are in use is in locations like government buildings and security zones, which are not typically places we visit. Today we are taking you to the cultural zone, where you can see some of the greatest art in the universe on public display,” Seren explained.

“Oh, and no weapons are allowed on Cypho 3, not even your knife,” Aeryn added with emphasis.

That declaration was no surprise to Bryan as he had done some research on the way here. The core planets took pride in being the safest places in the universe. Residents and guests were prohibited from engaging in any acts of violence, and involvement in anything other than a verbal altercation would result in severe consequences for the offender.

“It’s in my cabin,” he confirmed as he turned to show no sheathed blade on his person.

“Okay, we will jump on a shuttle to take us to the surface, and then we can wander from there,” Aeryn explained after he finished.

For the trip to the surface, Bryan had chosen his most nondescript clothes. He had no idea if blue jeans were a thing, so he only wore clothes he had purchased since his arrival on Independence. Departing from the black-on-black theme that branded him an enforcer, he switched it up with browns and light greens, paired with a dark jacket.

Aeryn and Seren had also deviated from their traditional garb; Seren wore something that resembled a dress with leggings underneath, and Aeryn wore a black and white shirt and slacks ensemble that clung nicely to her fit form. He often wondered what she had against colors, but didn’t feel comfortable broaching the subject as he suspected she might find it offensive. It was funny that they could lie naked together, but he didn’t feel comfortable questioning her fashion choices.

Neither of the others had a coat or jacket, but that was normal.

“Money?” Bryan asked as he held up a coin pouch that he had produced from his pocket.

Taking the small sack wordlessly, Aeryn dumped the contents into the palm of one hand and sorted through the coins.

“Too much, as usual, but not worth a trip back to your cabin. Never produce a platinum coin in public and pull any of them out one at a time to pay; never dump them out as I did. Violence is rare here, but robbery isn’t unheard of,” she admonished.

Bryan wasn’t sure about the last statement, as anyone attempting to rob him would meet violence head-on.

“Noted,” was all he said with a nod of understanding.

The three passed through the cargo bay and descended the loading ramp, where they entered the overly large docking bay that the station had provided them. Exiting the bay through the airlock, Bryan quickly noted that Enforcers were everywhere, though their attire was more in line with what one might find in old London, rather than police uniforms in America. The attire was in line with urban policing, rather than field combat. There were no visible weapons that he could tell, but Aeryn quickly dispelled that misunderstanding.

“No guns?” he asked.

“See that small club on their belt,” she offered as she pointed out a pair walking casually through the crowded passage as they worked their way to the shuttle gates.

“It’s a stun wand,” she added.

“Doesn’t look like it would hurt if they hit you with it,” Bryan offered, thinking of a blackjack or a Billy club.

“Oh, all they need to do is touch you with it, and your nervous system locks up. There are more Enforcers here in this station than on the surface, as a show of force for inbound travelers. Any troublemakers are filtered out here and turned away before they can ever reach the ground,” Aeryn explained.

Following the lead of the two women as they talked, Bryan watched them weave their way through the crowds until Seren announced their arrival.

“This is the shuttle we want. It lands between the cultural zone and the shopping district,” she explained as she pointed to the overhead placard.

“It’s all Greek to me,” Bryan replied as the script made no sense to him.

The statement was true enough; in writing, the common tongue used in the universe resembled a combination of Arabic and Cyrillic. He had tried several times to learn the basics on his own but decided he needed a proper course to master the language. He was not talented in tongues, having spoken only English on Earth with a smattering of Spanish and German, which he picked up over time. Thank God for the universal translator they implanted, or he would have been hopelessly lost without verbal communication.

For his early efforts in learning to read, he focused on the number symbols as a starting point and the monetary unit indicators for coppers, silver, and gold. At a minimum, he would know what the prices were, even if he couldn’t read what he was paying for. The doors to the shuttle were attended by both a toll taker and a pair of Enforcers scanning for weapons. All three Independence crew members had to pass through a scanner before presenting the attendant with the funds to secure passage.

“I would have expected automated attendants?” he commented as they approached the doors.

“There are some, mainly at the cargo portals, but everyone you see is looking for a reason to block your passage to the surface. They take the rules of behavior seriously here,” Aeryn replied as she led him to the pay station.

“I got this,” Bryan offered as he passed a silver to the attendant and received the ten coppers in change.

“Are you learning to read?” Seren asked in surprise as she pointed to the holographic billboard with fare fees listed.

“I get the numbers. I see the five coppers per passenger, but the rest is still gibberish,” he explained.

“It’s a start,” she beamed, apparently happy with his efforts to fit in.

Thankfully, the trip to the planet’s surface was short in the crowded shuttle, and Bryan did a little people watching as the three sat quietly. The surrounding noise level made it difficult to have a private conversation, and the questions he had piling up were not subjects he wanted others to eavesdrop on casually. Most of the other passengers were humanoid in form but diverse in detailed biology, and they might take offense at his observations.

He saw people who resembled cats, dogs, birds, reptiles, amphibians, and other forms that were difficult to categorize. The majority looked generally human, though, giving him a certain sense of ambiguity in his appearance. He did not want to stand out in a crowd, especially on a core planet.

“Here we go,” Seren commented as the shuttle landed and the doors opened swiftly.

Caught up in the rush of the crowd to exit the shuttle, he had to hurry to catch up with the two women who had left the shuttle ahead of him. He had to laugh at the thought that the New York Subway had nothing on this place when it came to crowds.

“There you are. Good thing you are tall, or we might have lost you in this throng,” Seren teased as she took one arm in hers.

Aeryn followed the doctor’s example, and so the three headed off arm in arm toward their first destination. The group spent the rest of the day touring the sights and experiencing the wonders of the core planet’s cultural center. Both Aeryn and Seren educated Bryan on the art and history exhibits contained within the various structures. Gardens with exotic flora from many worlds competed with artistic marvels in media that Bryan had never seen before. Not just visual wonders, they were treats for the senses with sounds and smells that overwhelmed the observer.

By chance, they stumbled upon a museum dedicated to the many wars fought throughout the universe's history, and Bryan was particularly interested in it. Fortunately, Aeryn shared his fascination while Seren waited impatiently for the two to get their fill of the death and destruction recorded in the exhibits.

The day was all too short for the number of experiences available to them, and they soon found themselves in one of the many fine dining establishments spread throughout the region. Bryan let Seren order for him as the menu was diverse and unreadable to his Earthly eyes. His meal was some meat smothered in a sauce that he found delightful.

“Now that’s what I am talking about, that’s the kind of dinner I wanted to cook for the passengers,” he commented, feeling a little light-headed from the beverages served with their dinner.

“That meal cost us a platinum for the three of us,” Aeryn commented, suggesting it was an outrageous sum for a single experience.

“Even so, you gotta admit, it was excellent,” he replied with an exaggerated nod.

“I think our friend here is a bit of a lightweight,” Seren commented as Bryan slurred the last words.

As they walked, Bryan had one female on each arm, as before, but now they were doing a fair amount of work to keep him upright and walking in a straight line.

“Oh, I don’t know, I think he is doing better. The last time he had Bokor, he was face down on the table, on Gama 9. His tolerance is growing,” Aeryn replied with a sly smile as they headed to the shuttle that would take them home.

----*----

Skydancer docking bay

The following morning, Cris and Kylo stood in the center of the cargo hold, discussing the crates stacked to one side. On the other side of the hold, the portable kitchen sat, separated and sealed, tucked away after the passengers departed. There had been some discussion regarding Bryan continuing his personally unwanted duties as head chef. Still, he negotiated a compromise that allowed him latitude to continue, but to pick and choose the meals he provided, so long as they were not too few or far between.

“Is that the job?’ Bryan asked the two as he entered the space and pointed to the crates.

After the night’s revelry, he felt a little under the weather. Aeryn had filled him in on the fuzzier parts of the evening after dinner and praised his newfound tolerance for her favorite drink, Bokor. The disclosure explained his pounding headache, but failed to explain how he had woken up in Seren’s cabin.

The doctor was nowhere to be found, likely having started her day early and leaving him to sleep it off, but the explosion of clothing lying about the room left the impression they had a good time, even if he couldn’t remember it. That thought made him consider banning Bokor for life.

“Smokescreen. The real contraband is secured in a hidden compartment below decks. Those are just the crates it arrived in,” Cris explained.

“Dare I ask what it is?” Bryan queried.

“Pretty mundane stuff, really. A broker on Minor has us smuggling what you would call exotic, illegal liquor that’s highly taxed. It’s both popular and rare, and they make a killing selling it on the black market. You should try it sometime, it's ok for humans, or so Seren said. I can get you a glass if you like,” Cris answered.

The thought of another drink caused a wave of nausea to pass through his body, and Bryan had to swallow hard not to vomit.

“I’ll pass thanks,” he replied as he slowly moved away from the pair on his way to his own cabin and a little more sleep.

The trip back to the Pantera system was anticlimactic as the crew spent the voyage cleaning up after the privileged passengers, most of whom had servants back home to do their bidding and, as such, left their rooms in complete disarray. By the time they reached the space port on Major, Bryan had recovered from their binge on Cypho 3, and both Aeryn and Seren had reduced their teasing. That’s not to say it ceased entirely.

“Big plans now that we are back?” Seren asked Aeryn as the group sat in the galley.

“Not particularly. I thought it might be nice to eat out after six sols in space,” Aeryn replied casually.

“Ah, I am not sure about food, but you know what sounds good?” Seren replied.

“Bokar!” they declared in unison as they looked to Bryan.

“You are both evil,” he replied as he rose and returned to his cabin to hide out.

It was a rare moment when Bryan found himself in his cabin alone, while the others went to town for a bit of fun, but he usually took the time to continue his studies. His latest efforts focused on learning to read menus and identifying Bokor on the pages.

----*----

Independence Bridge

“Captain, we have a problem,” Zaim announced as he entered the ship's control room.

Bryan and Cris had been working on the bridge, with Cris tutoring Bryan on the fine art of equipment calibration. Every so often, it was standard practice to recalibrate various systems on the ship when in port, where they could be verified by the reference systems there. Navigation, time, and atmospheric analysis all had standard outputs that the ship's systems could be compared with.

“I can’t find Aeryn, Seren, Azizi, or Kylo,” Zaim explained.

Bryan had spent enough time with Zaim to know the man was concerned, as he never seemed to think of anyone but himself. He was aware that the four absent crew members had been out for the evening, as he had been invited along but chose to pass. He had studying to do and wasn’t fully recovered from the outing on Cypho 3.

Aeryn had offered to stay behind and assist him, but he had assured her the lessons were simple and not worth her time. The reality was that he wasn’t feeling overly social and wanted to sit quietly as he let his mind work out the issues hanging over his head. He knew the day would end in an alien bar somewhere, and he had no stomach for more drinking so soon.

“Did they come back last night at all?” Cris asked aloud as he checked the ship’s log.

Independence had monitoring systems that tracked all activity in and out of the ship. Some sensors also monitored movement in and out of the more sensitive areas, such as the bridge and engineering spaces.

“The log says they never returned to the ship once they left. That’s not good. Even if Aeryn spent the night in town, she would have left word to that effect,” Cris said aloud as he scanned the display.

Bryan knew there wasn’t a mandate that the crew had to return every night while off duty, but for all four individuals to choose to stay away was highly unusual and concerning. With that, they gathered Istu and the four exited Independence and headed to the entertainment area near the spaceport to try and retrace the missing crew’s activities.

While the four individuals were noticeable but not remarkable, none of the usual haunts could confirm or deny seeing the group for more than a few minutes. Several nonrobotic establishments provided eyewitnesses to answer their questions, confirming their patronage, while others had imagery to verify their presence at specific times. Still, none of the servers recalled any confrontations or disruptions that might have impacted their ability to return to the ship.

“There are no businesses that suggest a confrontation or commotion that would have involved the four,” Istu observed as they walked.

“I am beginning to think they may have been snatched off the street or worse,” Cris commented as the four returned to Independence.

“With Aeryn there, God help whomever did it then,” Bryan replied, expecting the first officer to put up one hell of a fight.

Chapter 7

Independence Bridge

It wasn’t long before the mystery of the crew's absence was revealed when an anonymous transmission delivered the unwelcome news upon their arrival. Only just returned to the ship after their investigations in town proved fruitless, Zaim hit the play button for the stored message. The anonymity was short-lived as the sender explained the reason for the transmission.

“Captain of Stargazer. It has come to our attention that one of your crew was responsible for my injuries caused during the hostage exchange. This affront to my authority cannot go unpunished. To that end, we have taken several of your crew, and in exchange for their safe return, you will deliver the shooter to me. I await your reply,” the message relayed.

“We need to get them back, now,” Istu pronounced.

“I’ll get my guns,” Bryan agreed.

“Hold up, you two. We need more information before we can take any action. This isn’t Gateway or even Ryker’s World where we can roam the streets armed and looking for trouble,” Cris commented as he worked to calm the others.

Istu, Zaim, and Bryan nodded silently in frustration.

“Besides, if this is the same group that kidnapped the gambler, they are likely not on Major and are not to be trusted to keep their word,” Zaim declared.

“Agreed. This all started because they reneged on the agreed gambling payment, wanting to punish the offender in addition to the payment of debt. I have no doubt they will try for the same here,” Cris reasoned.

“How can we find out who has them for sure and where they are being kept. I can’t imagine they will let us drag this out very long before escalating things,” Istu questioned. 

Bryan was well aware that the shooter they wanted was him. He felt a point of pride that even Zaim hadn’t offered to pony him up in return for the others, at least not immediately. Bryan knew he would turn himself over to the thugs before risking the lives of the missing crew, but that would be a last resort, not the first option. Also he would not go down without a fight.

The notion that they had taken Aeryn, Seren, and Azizi riled him fiercely, while he imagined Kylo biting the hand that tried to feed him in captivity.

“Do we know who we dealt with in the hostage exchange then? That's likely the culprit,” Bryan said.

“I was told the head of the gambling ring was a man called Rygon. He probably snatched the four like he had done with the gambling debtor, and they are being held off-planet. Our primary goal is to find where that is. With that information, we can skip dealing with Rygon and recover the others directly before he is any the wiser,” Cris reasoned.

“It seems to me this universe thrives on bounties. What if we offer a reward for information on their location?” Bryan asked, frustrated at the situation.

“If Rygon gets word of that, there is no telling how he might react,” Zaim replied constructively.

Bryan almost laughed aloud as he considered that this was what it took to get the pilots' positive participation.

“True, but the idea isn’t without merit. Rather than a bounty or reward, we could file a mercenary contract. Those are confidential and not usually interesting to lowlifes like Rygon,” Istu countered.

The fact that Istu knew so much about mercenary activities surprised both Cris and Zaim. Bryan suspected there was far more to the alien behemoth than any of them knew, and while he was talkative at times, his personal history was not a topic for conversation.

“They aren’t cheap,” Cris began.

“I’ll pay it. It’s my fault they got snatched in the first place,” Bryan declared.

“It’s no one’s fault but Rygon’s. Had he not escalated things during the exchange, then he would still have both hands,” Zaim offered in Bryan’s defense, a move that was unexpectedly welcome.

While the human and the Alaid had started on the wrong foot, Bryan had slowly worked his way back into the good graces of the furry pilot. Far from friends, the fact that Bryan had saved the ship and crew that Zaim held dear had counted for something.

“Regardless, I’ll pay the fee or whatever. Since buying Rogue and upgrading my Jeep, I haven’t had any reason to spend money, and it’s just piling up,” he confirmed with a grin.

“Alright, I will locate the Guild house and see what we need to do,” Cris replied.

“I’ll help. I have some contacts there that might be useful,” Istu added.

Once again, the declaration caused both Cris and Zaim to stare at their shipmate with renewed interest.

----*----

Mercenary Guild house

Bryan sat at the table playing with a short stack of platinum coins as if they were toys while the others watched. Zaim had agreed to stay with the ship while the other three went to meet with the individual claiming the contract Cris had submitted. The agreement was filed with the guild, requiring a fee of three golds, and included a value of fifty golds paid to the assignee for information identifying the location of the missing crew members.

There was an additional bonus of fifty gold coins for details leading to the circumstances of their imprisonment and any information on how they could be extricated without risk to the hostages. The last part was Bryan’s contribution to the text, as he figured they would be unlikely to avoid a firefight during the escape.

It was explained to them that mercenary contracts were not like open bids. When Cris and Istu had gone to file the contract, they were presented with a list of available contractors with the skills best suited for the assignment. After reviewing all the available candidates, it was Istu who selected someone he was familiar with and had confidence in.

In truth, he picked three and ranked them in order of selection. Should the first choose to pass on the contract, then the next in line would be offered the opportunity to make what was likely, in the end, ten platinum coins. The woman before them was Istu’s first choice, and the brief flash of recognition in her eyes as she saw Istu sitting at the table told Bryan the choice was not without familiarity between the two.

The fact that she looked like a Yozus to him suggests they could even be related.

“Yes, it was Rygon, and they are on Hellsgate,” the woman declared succinctly.

The statement seemed to deflate the others, and Cris and Istu reacted to the disclosure with frowns of disapproval. Bryan wondered if the name resulted from the translation modifications or if it reflected the nature of the location.

“That’s a problem,” Cris replied slowly.

“Why?” Bryan asked.

“Hellsgate is a small planet, almost a moon, in a system known for extremes. With only one habitable world out of seven orbiting the star, its single claim to fame is its prisons,” Istu explained.

“Hellsgate circles its sun in the hot zone, barely habitable; it’s the fact that it rotates on a vertical axis parallel to the sun that keeps it stable enough to support life. Small areas at the poles are temperate enough for limited plant and animal life, but the broad swath of the center is a desert devoid of any living thing. No surface water exists in this region,” Cris offered.

“Nighttime temperatures range from one hundred and five to one hundred and ten, while daytime heat reaches between one hundred and twenty to one hundred and twenty-five. You need to be a Neisian to even wander the region unscathed,” the woman added, his translator converting the values she relayed to Fahrenheit, but referencing a species Bryan had never heard of.

“Neisians are reptilian with a high tolerance for heat,” Cris offered in support of his confusion.

A look of confusion passed over the woman’s face, as if she thought everyone knew what a Neisian was.

“Due to the vertical axis of rotation, the temperatures don’t vary much,” the woman explained.

Bryan was sure he had never seen a Neisian and wondered if Kylo was somehow related to the species. He doubted it, though, as the navigator seemed to have the same revulsion to high temperatures as the rest of the crew.

“The planet has very few residents, and those that do live there make their living leasing property to others who build prison centers in the hot zone. Detainment structures are located along the equator, leaving open baked sand and rock to the north and south for over three hundred miles in both directions. Those imprisoned there can’t escape on foot overland without exposure suits, and a power drain shield is applied in both directions for one hundred miles from the equator. The only way in or out is by air,” the mercenary explained.

“The shielding starts about fifty miles from the equator in both directions, creating a hundred-mile swath through the center, and disrupting all powered devices. Weapons, environmental suits, and vehicles cease to function under the shielding. The structures themselves are immune while anything attempting to land from above without approval plummets to the ground with drive failures,” Cris explained in detail for Bryan’s benefit.

“As you can’t use environmental suits because the shielding blocks them, walking out isn’t an option should you escape the building. Only basic electronics work in the desert beyond until you reach the green zone, nothing more sophisticated,” the woman added.

“So basic electronics and electrical devices?” Bryan asked for clarification.

“Yes, they use archaic drones for surveillance along the border of the shielding. These must go straight up from the structure until they rise above the shielding and use bladed propulsion for lift and flight. No wave drives or advanced propulsion systems can operate in that area unless the shields are dropped. Each location controls the protective barrier for its region. If you could get inside the building, you could drop them long enough for an extraction from above,” the mercenary explained as a possibility.

“You know the exact location they are being held?” Bryan asked, ignoring the look of dismay from his crewmates.

“Yes, they are here. It’s a small facility used by Rygon and others of his ilk when they need a neutral location for gatherings or a holding facility. I am told he has reserved the structure for exclusive use for the near future,” she answered firmly.

“How do we know this information is any good?” Bryan challenged.

“It’s good, you can take my word for it,” Istu responded firmly as he rose from the table and crossed over to her.

“Good enough for me,” Cris confirmed.

“Me too,” Bryan added with a little less certainty.

What happened next removed any doubt from his mind.

“Mom says hi,” the woman offered to Istu as the two embraced.

----*----

Independence Galley

“You think that will work?” Cris asked as the four gathered in the Independence galley.

“This place is designed to prevent escapes from the inside out. Any traditional attacks would have to be funneled in from above, as the surrounding desert is shielded by the power drain system, preventing levitation vehicles from passing through. It seems the universe has developed an unhealthy disinterest in rolling transport,” Bryan observed as he discussed his idea.

Almost all ground vehicles operated in the universe used levitation to travel as they hovered over the terrain. The technology had tremendous advantages as it removed the need for paved roads and reinforced bridges. Maintaining infrastructure primarily involved clearing a path of trees and boulders, and the only hardened surfaces were those used for landing or parking the various means of transportation.

“Cris and I take the Jeep as far into the desert as possible and hoof it on foot for the last fifty miles. It’s flat and hard ground, so if we can keep a pace of five to six miles an hour, we can go the distance in ten hours. We can break it into two days from the green zone to the target with rest periods for the last part,” he explained.

Bryan relied on the translator to convert the measured values into sols and arns for the benefit of the others. The fact that no one had questioned his estimate suggested that whatever they heard was close enough to make sense in terms of time and distance measures.

“If you manage to get there without being discovered, how are we getting them out. They can’t endure the heat as you two can,” Istu said, referring to the human tolerance for extreme heat.

“We will break in, kill any resistance and the shields, and call you in for pickup,” Cris replied, pointing to Zaim as he did.

“I’m not sure about the timeline. How long will it take to reach the facility from here?” Zaim questioned as he pointed to the spot where Rogue was to land.

Bryan had a flashback of this same conversation when they rescued the miners. Since the success of that venture, Zaim seemed to be a lot more positive in this conversation.

“Day one is going to be a long drive. We leave from the LZ in the green zone and drive like crazy as deep into the desert as we can go until the shields stop us. We can only cover two-thirds to three-quarters of the total distance in the Jeep before the shield wall shuts it down. From there it’s a good 10 to 12 hour walk to reach the structure, thank god the gravity is only point seven two of normal,” he observed using the military reference for landing zone.

“With no blasters or pulse rifles,” Istu observed.

“Nope, just Bryan’s archaic chemical projectile firing weapons,” Zaim confirmed.

Before presenting his idea, Bryan had scoured all their images of the area and confirmed the relative nature of the landscape, which was devoid of water erosion, so no deep ruts and crevasses. In many ways, this was a repeat of their last mine rescue, only much hotter and with some significant walking involved.

“Once we hit the shield wall, we are exposed as we hoof it on foot until we reach the building and rescue the others. I doubt anyone will challenge us in the open desert, so that shouldn’t be an issue,” Bryan explained again.

“Enduring daytime temperatures of up to one hundred and thirty degrees the entire trip without exposure suits?” Istu asked in astonishment.

“You honestly think you can make it?” Zaim challenged, but in a tone that sought assurance.

“It reminds me of a joke from Earth. In the early days of space flight, a small country announced to the world that while everyone was going to the moon, they were going to land on the Sun. All the other countries made fun of them, asking how they thought they could survive the searing heat. Simple, they replied, we are going at night,” Bryan finished with a smile.

----*----

Independence

The four split up once the plan was confirmed, each focusing on their assigned tasks as they prepared for the rescue mission. Bryan slipped into the engineering lab and began working to assemble the gear they would need in the arid desert. His personal experiences in surviving in such a place, combined with his military training, made him particularly well-suited to compensate for the lack of technological support they would experience.

The absence of Azizi at his side was an obvious reminder of the importance of his activities. More than just one of the crew, the alien female fascinated him as both a friend and confidant. Her general good mood and lighthearted attitude to life was infectious, and the open manner in which she flirted with him caught him off guard on many occasions. In many ways, it helped him transition into his new life as he felt wanted and part of her life.

The fact that all three of the females Bryan had been involved with had been taken together made him wonder if the villains involved had identified him as the shooter or if it was just a coincidence. Either way, he was highly motivated to endure whatever the Hellsgate desert had to deliver to recover the four hostages. This wouldn’t be his first time in the sandbox, and he was mentally prepared for the challenges ahead.

During their planning, the team had agreed that recalling the runabout after Bryan and Cris departed was the smart move because once the pair breached the facility, they would likely need to evacuate the immediate area quickly. All possible scenarios involved Independence or one of the shuttles landing to retrieve their crewmates, right where they were being held, as the trek on foot beyond that was possible only for Cris and Bryan, whose human genes provided the necessary physiology to tolerate the heat.

“What about my Jeep?” Bryan had asked with concern as they reviewed the plan once more.

“I’ll buy you a new one if we have to leave it behind,” Cris replied sarcastically.

“I am not sure why you are so worried about it. You are both likely going to die in the desert from the heat anyway,” Zaim offered in his typical negative perspective.

“Funny. Let’s hide it, and maybe I can come back and pick it up another time,” he proposed.

“Sure, if it makes you feel better about leaving it behind,” Cris countered.

Bryan imagined that, at some point in the near future, he could take Rogue in close enough to allow him to retrieve the vehicle once the current troubles were forgotten. The area was hot and dry, with no settlements nearby to suggest that anyone might accidentally come across it abandoned in the wasteland. His most significant danger was that it would become buried in the shifting sands of the region.

“Think of it this way, you are exchanging a pile of scrap metal for Kylo and your three bed bunnies,” Zaim offered sarcastically.

“I dare you to say that to Aeryn when they get back,” Istu replied with a knowing smile.

While Aeryn’s affections for the human were well known, everyone knew that any suggestion that she was the minor party in the situation would be met with violence.

----*----

Detention Facility

Aeryn was beyond frustrated as she sat in the small common room that held the four captives. She continuously beat herself up for being so stupid as to get captured by this band of thieves. The others were not without blame, as all had fallen prey to the same trap, but they were not combat-trained and experienced as she was.

“How long are they going to keep us here?” Seren asked as the others sat silently, deep in their thoughts.

“If it were a matter of money, Cris would have paid, and we would be out of here already. I have a feeling something else is at play here,” Aeryn replied sagely.

“Why aren’t there any guards?” Azizi asked as she motioned about.

“Don’t need any. I heard one of the thugs who brought us here say something about Hellsgate. Regardless, they warned us that outside this shelter we wouldn’t last more than a few hectos without a suit, so don’t get any ideas,” Kylo explained with a shrug.

“What is Hellsgate?” Seren quired.

“A planet with an equator so hot we would all die within an arn at midday and last maybe four arns if we try to escape after sunset,” Aeryn replied dejectedly.

“That’s not hectos,” Azizi commented, her analytical mind at work.

“I’m sure he was being dramatic,” Aeryn replied.

“Many governments use it as a prison planet because the escape options are limited. The arid zone is broad enough to prevent all but a few species from walking away unaided, and the airspace is controlled by shields that nullify drive waves,” Kylo added.

“Environmental suits?” Seren countered.

“Won’t work in the arid zone while the shields are up. Nothing works in the field, and only base electrical systems function for yarns beyond that. Everything shuts down the moment you step out of the building, heading to the temperate zones north and south of the equator,” Kylo explained.

“So, what can we do?” Azizi asked.

“We wait,” Kylo replied, his voice filled with frustration.

Chapter 8

Hellsgate Desert

Bryan and Cris landed Rogue at the edge of the northern green zone bordering the desert. The spot offered a small amount of coverage in case someone happened by overhead while they worked to free their friends. The limited plant life, with organisms resembling deformed trees, provided a canopy of growth that obscured the craft's outline while not completely obscuring it from sight.

While not enough to make it invisible from above, it broke up the ship's outline to confuse the casual overhead observer. It wouldn’t stop someone searching for them, but then no one was.

“Ok, the ship is set for automatic recall once we depart. Zaim can guide it into the shuttle bay remotely after it reaches polar orbit,” Cris explained.

Most of the non-detention space traffic was concentrated in one of the two polar regions, as the habitable communities were restricted to the green zones at the top and bottom of the world. Hovering anywhere near the equator would have drawn undue attention to their activities, so they worked to blend in with the standard space traffic. From there, it would take Zaim very little time to reach the target area in a shuttle once Bryan and Cris had secured the location and deactivated the localized shielding.

“Okay, inventory check,” Bryan announced as he and Cris prepared to head south in the Jeep.

They had chosen to land in the northern green zone, as the overland route headed south appeared slightly less arduous than the one from the southern temperate green zone heading north. That wasn’t to say it was without challenges, but the ground seemed more solid, not too soft in most places, and less rough and rocky in all.

The area south of the detention facility, which was their goal, had more shifting sand and loose soil. Bryan could have swapped out the Jeep tires for more sand-friendly alternatives when they reached the desert, but neither he nor Cris wanted to venture out to save their friends on untested treads.

Both men expected little to no resistance upon their arrival on the planet’s surface, but their mantra was to plan for the worst and hope for the best. For that reason, Bryan had replicated two more 45s using Azizi’s matter replicator, one for Cris and one for Aeryn, to be delivered to her upon their arrival at the prison. A cache of full magazines was stuffed in a tote bag, and the 300 and the 5.56 rifles sat in the rack in the rear of the Jeep.

Bryan’s 10-millimeter was strapped to his side, spare magazines in pouches on his vest, and cases in the back seat. The heat in the north was already such that extra clothing was discouraged, so both men were dressed for the weather.

“Since none of these need charging cells, it should all be fully functional inside the shields,” Bryan confirmed with a smile.

Water was a priority. Bryan had fashioned two carry packs he knew as camelbacks. Favored by the military, it was a water bladder worn as a vest. Its typical profile allowed the user to carry a backpack over the hydration unit, although Bryan integrated the two into one package. That allowed him to increase the capacity, providing two gallons of fresh water per man. Separate water bottles were added to maximize the volume, allowing each man to distribute the load to their liking.

Besides water, the ammunition was the second heaviest load in their packs. Their meal pouches could be hydrated as they were consumed, so they added little to the overall burden. Extra water and rations were packed around the guns and ammo in the back seat of the Jeep before departure. Bryan was a big believer in bringing more than he needed when the transport had room to carry it all. Should things go sideways, he wanted to account for the additional bodies they would be adding to their party in the event of an escape.

The plan was simple and straightforward. Cris and Bryan would blast across the green zone and into the barren landscape of the desert during the night to arrive at the first waypoint at the shield wall just after dawn. There, they would abandon the Jeep and head on foot after spending the daylight hours resting under cover and out of the worst midday heat.

Once darkness returned, with an expected drop in temperature, they would proceed south on foot, covering the last fifty miles in ten to twelve hours, arriving at sunrise and ready to assault the target. Bryan worried about their fatigue once they arrived at the facility, but Cris produced a pair of stim packs. The drugs would revitalize the two, and Cris confirmed they were safe for human physiology.

The two, armed to the teeth, would then gain access to the control room that managed the shields for the area, disable the guard systems, and allow Zaim to land a shuttle at the facility and recover the missing crew. Bryan and Cris would join the shuttle after disabling the shield controls, and everyone would fly back to Independence safe and sound.

Rogue would be recalled after Cris and Bryan departed south and would already be nicely tucked away in the ship’s hangar with only his Jeep languishing in the desert. While that was a high price, Bryan would trade the vehicle any day for the others' safe return.

“Jump in,” Bryan commented as he climbed into the driver's seat and ran one more check of the Jeep's systems.

“Ready,” Cris declared as he buckled the harness that held the passenger in his seat.

With Bryan behind the wheel, the two rocketed out of the back of the little spaceship and headed south. The display on the Jeep’s dashboard outlined the course they were to follow until the shield wall disabled the electric motors driving all four wheels.

----*----

Hellsgate Desert

“Cris, you said your mom was a nurse? Where did she live on Earth when she met your father?” Bryan asked as the two finished a meal and waited for the sun to set.

After a long day blasting across the desert sands in oppressive heat, the Jeep quit on them suddenly, indicating they had reached the shield boundary. The two then worked to cover the vehicle in a camouflaged tent. From above, the material blended seamlessly with the surrounding terrain in color and texture, making it invisible to the naked eye. The heat-reflecting characteristics of the material provided a noticeably cooler shade space for the two men as they slept through the day's heat and then waited for the sun to set.

The hesitancy in his reply had Bryan wondering if the subject was more sensitive than he had expected. Cris heaved a heavy sigh and then seemed to nod in some unspoken decision.

“She was an American, like you. There was a war raging at the time, and her medical unit was traveling behind the front line, battling military units. They had stopped for the night when my father stumbled into their midst, wounded and near death. She stayed behind to treat him as her team continued on, and continued to look after him in secret after she discovered he was different,” Cris replied.

The tale inspired several more questions, but Bryan wondered if he should drop it when Cris continued.

“She hid him inside an animal shelter. I believe she called it a horse stable. It was several days before he was fit to travel, and by then, they had developed a strong attachment to one another. When he was well enough to walk again, he convinced her to accompany him as he continued his mission. She was invaluable in navigating the unfamiliar country, helping him blend in,” he expanded.

From what Seren and Aeryn had shared with him, Cris was older than either of the two women, with a suggested age of over eighty years. That meant his tale would be about one hundred years in the past, give or take a decade. Horse stables and traveling medical units gave Bryan the impression that it might have been World War II or even Korea; something in the early 1900s came to mind.

“A war, you say. Was it in Europe, Asia, or the Middle East?” Bryan asked, trying to pin down the conflict.

“No, they were in your America, although I believe she referred to it as the United Colonies,” he replied casually.

“The Colonies? Was the war the American Revolution?” Bryan burst forth.

“Maybe, I don’t know much Earth history beyond what my mother shared. I do know her parents came from a place called London, but she was born in the city of Boston,” Cris explained.

Bryan was pondering the shock a woman from the 18th century must have endured in uncovering the nature of her patient. It spoke to the bravery and empathy of the woman in saving the life of a man she had no medical understanding of. Familiar with the experience, he marveled at the story.

“How did he convince her to leave with him?” Bryan asked, astonished at the notion.

“My mother was pregnant when it came time for my father to leave. Cheizat babies grow faster than humans, so she was showing sooner than normal for your species. She agreed to join him and leave Earth as they feared the unborn child, me in this case, might be more Cheizat than Human. While I could pass for a human under casual examination, one simple blood test would have exposed me as an alien on Earth.”

Bryan listened as Cris explained the circumstances, and another revelation struck him.

“Cris, the American Revolution was about two hundred and fifty years ago,” Bryan pressed.

“That sounds about right. The MRT has kept me hanging in there for a very long time,” he said with a nod and a smile.

Bryan had always understood, in theory, that the MRT could keep him young without limits, but Cris was living proof that the alien technology delivered on that promise. In some ways, it made him sad to think that he would outlive all those he had left behind, and even if he did return to Earth at some distant date, everyone he had known would be dead and buried. Thankfully, Cris changed the subject.

“In all that time, your species has stubbornly stuck to firing projectiles at one another. Only now has the emergence of energy-based weaponry begun to appear,” Cris commented as he examined the rifle Bryan had provided him for this mission.

“Hey, you mean our species, and if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it,” Bryan countered with a laugh.

“Besides my archaic projectile weapons have saved our butts on numerous occasions,” he added.

“Time to try and get some more sleep before we have to leave,” Cris replied with a nod.

Bryan knew he was right. Tonight was going to be a long and exhausting night.

----*----

Hellsgate Desert

The trip on foot across the desert was every bit as miserable as Bryan expected it would be. Even at night, as they traveled in darkness, the trek was arduous as the oppressive heat relentlessly worked to suck all the moisture from their bodies. He was sympathetic to his companion as the Cheizat half of the man caused him to suffer even more than Bryan.

After their first night of travel in the Jeep, the two took to the portable shelter until the sun dawned over the horizon. Sleep had been fitful and unfulfilling but necessary during the heat of the day. They had spoken sparingly before, but this trek was completed in silence, the two exchanging only the words needed for the journey in order to conserve their strength.

Without powered electronics, Bryan had been reduced to using a compass and a map to navigate their way toward their target. Fortunately, this planet had a stable magnetic field strong enough to aid in their efforts. Resurrecting land navigation skills learned in the Basic School at Quantico, he caught Cris staring at him several times as he used the compass he had built for the trip.

“I can’t believe that thing works,” he commented as Bryan marked their progress on the topographical map they created for the mission.

Zaim was able to find a survey of the immediate area and created a detailed topographical map with Bryan's input, which allowed him to overcome the lack of electronic navigation tools standard to the aliens.

“Hey, I graduated at the top of my unit in Land Nav,” Bryan declared with pride.

While the statement was true, at the time, he had never revealed that he had spent a summer as a survey assistant before entering the Marines. The experience gave him a leg up in working with the challenges of topographical maps and analog compasses compared to his peers.

It was with some pride that the pair topped a rise, their goal in sight and right where Bryan said it would be.

There it is,” he announced as both men crouched to prevent being seen.

Bryan and Cris lay on the ridge of a dune less than 100 yards from the detention building. Using the scope of his rifle, Bryan searched for any signs of movement in or around the object of their attention.

“Anything?” Cris asked softly as neither man wanted to draw attention to themselves in case anyone was in earshot.

“No, it’s all dark and no movement in sight. Unfortunately, we are limited to optics, so no infrared or motion sensors,” he bemoaned.

What Bryan called infrared was an oversimplification of all the advanced sensor abilities Azizi had incorporated in the optical device. When fully functional, he would have been able to scan the structure, locating all within and identifying their species.

“I’d like to know if there are any hostiles inside before we just barge in,” Cris observed.

“Agreed,” Bryan confirmed, but at a loss to resolve the question.

Assuming the people within adhered to the planetary cycle, both men wanted to begin their assault in the early morning hours when most of those inside would be sleeping. Motioning for Cris to follow, they covered the remaining distance to the structure at a sprint to find themselves against one wall. As they followed its length, they came across a door, sealed shut.

Typically, Bryan would have circled the structure to confirm the site and identify all the possible access points. Due to the urgency and lack of coverage, the pair had to rely on the visuals they had acquired before beginning the trip. The images confirmed there was only one door and no windows for the structure. Rooftop access was also out of the question, as there were no openings available.

“Here,” Cris said as he passed Bryan a device from his satchel.

The thing looked like a glue gun to Bryan, but Cris had demonstrated it in the lab before they departed the Independence. When the trigger was pulled, the tip dispensed a thin stream of putty-like material. Cris had used a hull plate and completed a circle on the sample. Attaching an activator to the bead, he triggered the unit, and the material dissolved into the plate. Next, it cut through the plate, dropping the core and leaving a hole where the circle had been.

Bryan let his rifle hang by the sling as he took the device from Cris. This time, Bryan traced the outline of the door, following the frame and leaving maybe an inch around the edges. Once he had finished, he took the activator offered by Cris and placed it in the bead.

“Ready?” Cris asked as he held up the remote activator in one hand and his 45 in the other.

Bryan responded with a silent nod as he lifted his rifle and prepared for the breach. An anticlimactic fizzle was all they received as the fluid soaked into the door material, eating its way into the barrier and eventually separating the inner and outer rings. When completed, the larger portion fell away, dropping inside and landing flat on the floor with a bang that could be heard within.

“Go!” Bryan blurted as he darted through the opening and entered the building, unsure of the reception they were about to receive.

----*----

Detention facility

Aeryn and Seren sat together in the common room while Azizi and Istu slept. No one knew the time of day, as there was no timekeeper anywhere in the complex. The overall prison had six smaller rooms for sleeping and one central gathering space with all the basics for food preparation. While there was room for more, only the four from Independence were in residence.

There were no electronics for entertainment, only printed reading material covering various topics and a limited number of board games. The games made her smile, and she recalled Bryan trying to teach her an Earth game called chess. A confusing mixture of pieces with complicated rules, she eventually learned the basics, but she felt in no way competent enough to try to teach it to the others here.

She did enjoy the strategic aspects of the game, and as it was, in essence, a battle on the board, that resonated with her inner warrior. While he explained it wasn’t intended as a war of attrition, and one could achieve victory with little loss of pieces, she focused on reducing her opponents' numbers, much to her detriment.

“How long have we been here, do you think?” Seren asked, breaking her train of thought.

“Two or three Sols for sure, not much longer, I think,” Aeryn replied as she considered the question.

“Looks like we have supplies for considerably longer. You think they're planning on holding us for a while?” Seren questioned with a worried expression.

“I am sure the crew is working toward our release. Zaim and Istu are loyal friends, but neither is a leader. Bryan and Cris, however, won't stand for this affront to Independence, and don’t play by anyone’s rules but their own,” Aeryn reasoned as she thought of the chess game.

“Well, we have seen the lengths Bryan will go to when challenged to free you,” Seren replied with a smirk.

Aeryn took the comment in stride but had to admit that Bryan had demonstrated that when pushed, he was a force to be reckoned with. Her time with Cris on Independence had convinced her he was every bit as capable of the extreme actions of his shared species companion; he only lacked the training of the other.

“My bet is, Cris and Bryan don’t care what the kidnapers have planned, they are going to get us back on their terms and timetable. I believe, as much as he tries to hide it, Cris is every bit as human as Bryan when it comes to those he thinks of as his people,” Aeryn replied, trying to cheer the other woman.

“God help anyone if they cross those two, then,” Seren said with a weak smile.

“Beware the wrath of humans,” was Aeryn’s confirmation.

Chapter 9

Hellsgate Detention Facility

The first thing Bryan noted was the cool air inside the space, and as his eyes adjusted to the darker interior, he identified a door on the far wall. The fact that no one was shooting at them was a plus, but that could change quickly, so he continued to move forward with Cris at his back. He could make out the control console that he assumed operated the door they had breached, and the room had the feel of an oversized airlock, its barren floorspace containing not even a chair.

He imagined that ships would land outside that door once the shields were shut off, and people and provisions could be delivered with minimal exposure to the outside heat. In the peak afternoon's heat, almost any species could tolerate the short distance to be traveled. However, he was sure they chose to avoid it if at all possible. The space was long and narrow, perhaps wide enough for three people to walk abreast. The door at the other end of the room was sealed, but the control panel on the wall was displayed brightly.

“OK, the next room is likely a security space. We will need to be ready, although I would have expected an alert by now if there are guards present at all,” Cris explained as he pointed to the panel next to the far door.

“You think this place has automated security?” Bryan questioned.

“I think we are about to find out,” Cris replied.

Crossing the room, each man took a position on either side of the closed portal. Bryan noted that Cris had holstered the 45 and now had the 300 up and ready for use. With a nod of agreement, Cris hit the door button, and the portal opened silently. The space beyond was dark, with no visible movement or sounds.

“Wait here,” Bryan whispered to Cris as he stepped into the dark room on the other side of the wall.

Something told Bryan this was all wrong as his internal danger alarms went off. He had crossed about half the distance to the wall illuminated from the light filtering from the open door behind him when the entire space lit up.

“Drop your weapons!” Bryan heard, as the lights came on, and six armed guards stood across the room, all with weapons focused on him.

In a flash, Bryan dived for the floor, letting off several rounds from his rifle as he did so. He continued to fire as he lay prone, refusing to let the opposition take cover. The surprise of his actions had the desired effect, and he scored several hits with Cris taking out the last two from the doorway where he was partially hidden. Splashes of pulse rifle blasts passed over him, impacting the wall and scorching its finish.

Some of the energy balls passed so close to him that he could feel the heat. As quickly as it had begun, it was suddenly over.

“You, ok?” Bryan heard Cris ask, while remaining in place at the doorway and watching for movement.

Rolling to his side so he could see the captain, Bryan remained lying on the floor.

“Yeah, I’m ok. Glad to see you are getting the hang of that thing,” Bryan commented regarding Cris’s use of the 300.

“I am beginning to see why you like it so much,” the man replied, motioning to the dead across the way.

“It has its moments,” Bryan replied as he finally got to his feet and waved the captain forward.

A quick inspection of the dead confirmed they were not Enforcers, but rather more hired guns intent on taking them out. Bryan breathed a sigh of relief as he considered that the outcome might have been different had these men been better trained, rather than just hired thugs. It was clear to him that they were not prepared for anyone fighting back when confronted by superior numbers. He suspected they were better used for intimidation than firefights.

Once they confirmed there was no threat from the fallen, they began to move to the door that accessed the structure's interior. From there, the two men searched the rest of the building but found no trace of the missing crewmembers.

“This was all a trap set just for us,” Cris commented as he shut the shield generator down so Independence could send a shuttle to pick them up.

“I want to know where they are keeping the others if they aren’t here,” Bryan replied in frustration.

“Well, I think we need to talk to the Mercenary Guild again, as we paid handsomely for that information already,” Cris said firmly.

It was only a matter of minutes before Zaim arrived in the shuttle, and the two abandoned their captured prison, leaving the bodies where they lay as a warning to others. With the shields down, a short stop was made to recover the Jeep in the desert, and soon, Independence was headed back to Pantera Major to regroup.

----*----

Pantera Major

“You want to try this again?” Cris demanded as the mercenary woman they had contracted sat expressionlessly.

Istu stood in one corner of the small room, a frown transmitting his disapproval concerning his sister’s failure.

“The intel was good, and my sources were reliable. However, after I learned about the incident on Hellsgate, I pressed them harder, and they admitted they had been given false information. They were also set up and are not too happy about it either,” the mercenary female pleaded to her brother.

Istu remained silent, but if looks could kill, the sister before him would be well wounded.

“By my reckoning, you still owe us,” Cris countered.

He knew the guild would not favor using their people to deceive others. Their reputation as an impartial and reliable institution was at stake. In addition, the woman they knew as Istu’s sister was beyond upset that she had been used to place her brother at risk.

“That fact had not escaped me. Once I learned from Istu about what happened on Hellsgate, I returned to my sources to learn the real truth. I am afraid you will not like what I found,” she answered flatly as she pointed to her brother.

“I didn’t like it the last time, so try me,” Bryan responded, unfazed by her doom and gloom comments.

----*----

Independence Galley

“Boss, it’s been four Sols since we got the message. I think we are running out of time,” Zaim announced as the four sat in the galley planning their next move.

The female mercenary had been very forthcoming, and this time provided evidence of the accuracy of her information. The video and images she turned over confirmed the details, and the three gathered the intel and returned to the ship quickly.

“I know, we need to move fast on this before word about Hellsgate gets out,” Cris commented, referring to whomever set the trap.

After the shootout on Hellsgate, the four did their best to cover their tracks and return to Major undetected. The hope was that the loss of the guards manning the location might go unnoticed for a sol, maybe two, before someone came to investigate their silence.

“But Eron 5 captain, I thought Hellsgate was bad,” Kylo offered with a shake of his head.

On the table before them was all the intel the mercenary had provided as proof. There were overhead images of the area and maps of the specific location of the detention facility. Cris was picking through the pile as he spoke to the others.

“It makes it easier in some ways, all our tech works here. We can drop in at the city's edge and work our way to the target area quickly,” Cris replied as he worked the plan through his head.

“The city? Are there civilians involved?” Bryan asked, confused at the location reference.

“It’s abandoned ruins left over from a war. The place is as desolate as the desert we just crossed, add a hostile atmospheric environment with unbreathable air and rubble instead of sand,” he replied.

“So, no shields or power blocks to contend with?” Bryan asked.

“None noted, just armed guards and no breathable atmosphere,” Cris answered.

----*----

Eron 5

Bryan and Cris walked side by side as they exited Rogue’s cargo bay. Both were fully outfitted in environmental suits and armed as before, opting for human weapons over energy guns for this confrontation. Bryan had his reasons for the preference, and he expected that after the engagement on Hellsgate, Cris would appreciate the extra bang he got for his buck. When a .30-caliber bullet hit someone in the chest, they went down and stayed down, and the bang that accompanied it added to the shock and awe.

Both men carried the shorter rifle for this trip as the terrain and circumstances supported the choice. In the urban battlefield, the city ruins represented, there wasn’t much opportunity for a long shot, so Bryan’s 5.56 was left behind in favor of the 300s.

Before him was the bleakest, most depressing sight Bryan had seen yet in their travels. The gray filtered sunlight exposed decaying ruins devoid of any life signs, and the dingy, dull, thin atmosphere made the scene even more surreal. A dull haze settled on the planet, and from what Cris described, it covered the entire world.

Bryan could tell the city was once a modern, vibrant urban center, with tall and proud buildings. Now, a pall settled over the crumbling structures that stank of death and destruction.

“What happened here?” Bryan asked as the two stepped off the ramp and onto the ground.

As they walked, Cris explained the events that left these ruins.

“This is what the Enforcers leave behind when you go against the intergalactic government. The people of Eron 5 wanted to be free to chart their own course, so they tried to withdraw from the intergalactic union and the oppressive restrictions placed on them,” Cris began.

“First, they drop bombs that are like a reverse terraforming process, removing a good portion of the breathable atmosphere in the process and leaving everything exposed and unprotected, gasping for air and dying. Next, they landed troops that went from street to street and door to door, eradicating any remaining resistance,” Cris explained as the two cautiously worked toward their objective.

As they walked, Bryan mentally reviewed his urban warfare training, scouting every open doorway and window for potential threats. The briefing they received from the mercenary had suggested no threats beyond the detention area, but Bryan was taking no chances. The quality of her intel was questionable in his mind after the Hellsgate failure.

“Those that managed to survive the onslaught either died when their supplies ran out or found their way off-world as refugees and outlaws. The remnants of the race that once graced this planet are now welcome only at the edges of the universe, and unwelcome on any of the civilized planets. They are a pariah for anyone caring enough to take them in, a social plague that condemns anyone who shelters them,” Cris finished.

Bryan paused as he considered the obliteration of an entire planet for the sin of wanting freedom.

“Like humans?” Bryan countered.

“Oh no, humans are more like a pet dog, something to be tolerated but not taken seriously,” Cris laughed.

While talking, Bryan followed the map they had marked up, leading them to the detention facility where the mercenary swore they held the missing crew. Here, all the usual navigation aids functioned properly, allowing them to track their path in detail. After the last disaster, the information had been confirmed by outside sources sworn to secrecy, lest they become the next target on the human’s list of offenders. It was decided that Bryan and Cris would perform this task with Zaim and Istu in support, since all four could suit up if needed.

The latter, Istu, objected vehemently to being excluded from the assault, but eventually accepted that Cris and Bryan had already been working as a team for this rescue. The danger to the hostages was great, and a misstep could cost them their lives. His role as reinforcement after the shooting started was his sole consolation.

Bryan suddenly stopped, holding Cris up at the corner of a structure to limit their visibility from anyone beyond the turn.

“Well, looks like it’s time to teach someone to take us seriously,” Bryan commented, pointing to the guard strolling casually nearby around the corner.

Encased in a sealed exposure suit, similar to the ones Bryan and Cris had on, the man held a pulse rifle. His body language told Bryan he was unconcerned, maybe even bored, as he walked his beat. He then spotted a second and then a third guard, all wandering interlocking paths that allowed them to view one another as they followed their defined routes.

“There are supposed to be four guards on duty and four more in the guardhouse. We need to take one alive to get us into the lockup, but the minute we do, he’s likely to call for help,” Cris commented.

Bryan understood that help came in two forms. The immediate reaction team would be those housed in the guardhouse. The second and larger response would be from off-planet. That force was a significant unknown, as it could be as small as a shuttle crew and as large as a squad of mercenaries waiting for the call to arms. Either way, the estimated response time was not over an hour, so they couldn’t dawdle once the alarm went out.

“Yeah, and while you are better at insertion without being discovered, I am not sure I can hit those moving targets from here with this,” he added as he held up the rifle.

“It needs to be three quick shots,” Bryan agreed as he watched the roving bodies guarding their goal.

The plan they worked out on the spot was straightforward. Bryan would hold his position there, one where he could target all three roving guards, while Cris circled around and moved in to locate and capture the fourth guard. There were supposed to be another four guards housed nearby, allowing for regular shift changes in the around-the-clock protection of the target and its occupants.

The two men patiently waited until they could identify the guardhouse, so Bryan would hold off any rescue attempt after neutralizing the three rovers. At the same time, Cris would use his fourth man as a hostage to gain access to the detention area. Once inside the prison, they would call Zaim and Istu down in the shuttle to dock and rescue the others.

The four captives could not escape to Rogue through the ruins without suits, so that wasn’t an option. Once everyone was secure, Bryan would backtrack to Rogue and make a hasty retreat, leaving any remaining guards to clean up the mess.

“I’ll wait for your word,” Bryan declared as Cris moved around the far side of the structure they had been hiding behind.

Bryan continued to track the three targets as he waited for Cris to confirm the location of the last guard. It was hoped that a visible airlock would betray the facility's location and provide the necessary ingress point. Hopefully, they would be in a position that aided their plan when the time came to execute.

“Ok, I found the fourth, he’s sitting outside the airlock door, asleep,” Cris laughed.

The access point wasn’t visible from the location Bryan chose, so he had no clue as to the area, and thus was of no help to his companion. So long as Cris could subdue and control the last of the four, he didn’t feel the need to relocate. His current hiding place allowed him an open shot at the guards and the barracks door, which he had identified when one of the rovers disappeared for a few minutes, probably for a bio-break, as not all exposure suits provided for integrated peeing facilities when needed.

Suppressing any response team was more critical when controlling the situation after the expected alarm was sounded.

“Now that’s convenient,” Bryan confirmed with a laugh as he imagined the slumped form of a guard sitting against the door.

“Give me a moment to get in position,” Cris added.

“Alright, I will go when you give me the word,” Bryan replied as he sighted in on his first target of many.

----*----

Detention facility

Aeryn and Azizi were attempting one of the games set aside for their temporary release from boredom when the airlock door suddenly slid open and two suited figures entered the room. The rifle the second one held was all Aeryn needed to see to know their rescue was at hand.

“Bryan!” Aeryn proclaimed as she leapt from her chair.

“Close, he’s outside keeping the others busy,” Cris replied as he slipped his helmet off while motioning for his captive to do the same.

Pointing to a chair across the room, Cris had their hostage take a seat to be out of reach of the others. The barrel of his rifle never wavered from its menacing position pointed at his chest.

“It’s about time,” Seren declared as she and Kylo entered the common area from separate rooms.

“Where is Bryan?” Azizi asked as she rose from her seat to embrace her captain.

“He is doing what he does best and shooting at anyone heading in our direction until we can get you four out of here,” he explained.

“Speaking of which, Zaim, you can bring the shuttle in now,” Cris transmitted as he motioned for the others to get over to the airlock.

“I assume they used a docking ring when they brought you here? It’s nasty out there,” Cris commented.

“Yes, we couldn’t see a thing, so where are we? We heard something about Hellsgate,” Kylo replied.

“No, that was a trap for us, this is Eron 5,” Cris explained as the airlock chimed and the door opened again. In the open portal stood Istu, pulse rifle in hand, and a broad smile across his face.

“Ready to come home?” he asked, waving everyone inside.

“What about him?” Istu asked as his rifle swung toward their captive.

“We will take his helmet so he can’t leave,” Cris replied as he grabbed the object and followed Istu into the airlock and the shuttle beyond.

Once inside, he hit the close button and sealed the shuttle door.

“We are all good, Bryan, when you tire of shooting bad guys, you can vacate at your leisure,” Cris transmitted.

“Roger that,” was the distracted reply backed with gunfire.

“Sounds like he is having fun,” Aeryn commented, followed by a smile.

She knew if Bryan was shooting, someone at the other end was having a very bad day.

“Payback is a bitch,” Cris nodded.

Chapter 10

Eron 5

Once Cris gave him the go-ahead, taking out the three guards was swift and sure. Three well-placed shots within seconds of one another took down all the rovers before they could sound the alarm. His next target had been the barracks airlock, and he had just repositioned himself when the portal opened and several suited figures started to emerge. Both Cris and Bryan assumed that the alarm would sound regardless once the fourth guard was forced to open the detention facility portal. Still, the few extra seconds of delay were welcome.

One shot took the first suited figure in the shoulder, with the bullet passing through the protective garment and his body, hitting the second guard, and likely wounding him as well. The door quickly closed once more, and Bryan took three more shots at the barrier, not breaching its skin but leaving their mark as dents in the smooth finish. Doing the math, he counted three likely dead and two wounded. Counting one hostage, Cris captured to gain access to the lockup, which left only two of the original eight guards in good working order.

Those two were hunkered down inside the barracks, likely calling for help.

“We are all good, Bryan, you can vacate at your leisure,” Cris transmitted.

At that moment, the airlock door opened once more, and several pulse rifle blasts came forth, none impacting near his position. It was more like they were working to draw his fire and locate his position.

“Roger that,” he replied as he decided a few well-placed shots might delay any pursuit once he extracted himself from the engagement.

The thin atmosphere made the report of his rifle muffled and unfamiliar, but the impact of the bullets was unmistakable as they shattered the control panel visible from his position. With that, the airlock door closed once more, giving Bryan the cue to back away from the engagement and beat feet to Rogue for a hasty getaway.

Within moments, he had sealed the ship and headed to rendezvous with Independence in space, a sense of satisfaction settling over him for a job well done.

----*----

Independence

“What are we going to do about this situation?” Aeryn asked as the crew began to gather in the galley.

After Cris and Bryan were able to free the four being held for ransom, returning all to the safety of Independence, the celebration was short-lived. A mounting outrage among the crew reached the breaking point. For that reason, Cris asked everyone to gather in the lounge to air their opinions and concerns. The reality of the current intolerable situation boiled down to two choices.

Either the ship and crew moved on to another part of the universe, putting distance between themselves and the villain orchestrating the hostilities against them, or the alternative was to tackle the problem head-on and deal with the leader of the gambling syndicate in a way that ends any possible future conflict.

“If anyone cares about my feelings on this, I don’t want to leave civilization so soon just to live on a backwater planet again,” Seren commented firmly.

Bryan was sure the doctor was enjoying the finer things the Pantera Major cities had to offer compared to their previous life on the rim of the universe. He had always suspected that Seren came from a wealthy and privileged background, as her tastes seemed to lean toward the more refined aspects of life. She would often disappear for the night, only to return to the ship quite late or the following morning. Bryan never asked where she had gone or what she was up to, but he suspected it was somehow tied to her former life.

Overall, she seemed to handle the change in circumstances well, although she was not entirely content with her loss of status. Besides, it appeared that her libido was the thing that got her into trouble, not her desire for wealth and comfort.

“Someone has made a mess of my lab,” an irritated Azizi announced as she entered the room, her jumpsuit open in front as if hastily donned for the gathering.

“I’m sorry, that was me. I needed to fabricate some gear for the Hellsgate desert, and we were in a bit of a hurry, so I didn’t clean up after,” Bryan explained.

Their little adventure on Hellsgate was relayed to the captives on the return flight from Eron 5 to Pantera Major. All four prisoners appreciated the misery Bryan and Cris had endured in the frying pan that was the arid region, even if it was for naught. Bryan knew Azizi kept the engineering space in immaculate condition and did his best to minimize the mess while staying on the required timeline.

“Considering the circumstances, all is forgiven,” she replied, the frown replaced with a fetching smile as she kissed his cheek before finding a seat.

With Azizi now in the room as the last to arrive, the entire crew was in place to discuss Starship Independence's future plans.

“Rygon seems to throw goons at us with no regard for losses,” Bryan offered as they opened the floor to ideas.

“And their disregard for losing men does not suggest they are going to stop anytime soon,” Kylo added, returning the conversation to the original topic from the mess in engineering.

Bryan had to agree with the navigator as the body count for dead and wounded was significant. This was about more than just losing a hand. This had become a matter of injured pride with someone not used to such perceived disrespect. More likely, the mob boss lived with those around him under a state of fear, and Bryan and the rest had proven him vulnerable.

“I don’t see a clear path beyond removing the threat, and he would just be replaced, possibly by someone more cruel and ruthless,” Aeryn offered.

“I tend to agree, cutting off the head of this snake isn’t the answer,” Cris confirmed.

“I suggest we keep to the ship while deciding our next steps. We might even want to take a job to get us off the planet and get out where they can’t ambush us again,” Kylo proposed.

“Before we get too far down any path, we need to confirm the target location,” Bryan countered.

“The mercenaries can give that to us,” Istu reminded them.

“Why don’t you reach out to your contacts there and have them confirm for us?” Cris asked.

“Will do,” Istu acknowledged firmly.

“Then I think we need to stop playing defense and plot a little offensive coup of our own,” Bryan commented as he pondered their options.

“What do you mean?” Aeryn asked.

“I agree with Kylo. They will not stop coming at us until they get their pound of flesh, or we deal with it directly. I assume this is all the work of the guy I shot in the hand?” Bryan offered.

“Yes, that’s the running theory, Rygon was the one we dealt with during the exchange,” Cris countered.

“I say we take the fight straight to him and bypass the minions, you know, cut out the middle man,” Bryan said with a smile.

----*----

Independence

“Okay, we have confirmation, Rygon is our man,” Istu announced as he returned to the ship.

Against his better judgment, Cris had agreed to allow Istu to leave the ship so he could meet with his sister. He had wanted Istu to reach out electronically, but the sister insisted they meet in person. The pair used the Mercenary Guild as neutral ground and a safe place that no one would dare attack. Istu was only exposed in the open as he traveled to and from the meet, and those routes were very public in the middle of an active day.

It had been decided that before the crew could formulate a plan, they needed to verify the identity of the target and the location of residence. It had always been assumed that Rygon was behind everything, but when one went hunting, it was best to confirm the prey.

Bryan and Cris had been waiting in the cargo bay, prepared to exit the ship and intercede if necessary.

“And he is…?” Bryan asked, referring to the man’s hiding place.

“In his casino, orbiting Minor,” Istu finished, as if it were obvious.

Casinos on Minor were forbidden. The notion that the elite would allow such an uncouth enterprise to occupy valuable acreage on the planet’s surface was unthinkable. The fact that, to a person, man or woman, they all utilized the entertainment palace was irrelevant. As an answer to the dilemma, they built orbiting stations to accommodate their clientele. These vast structures included all the necessary services for comfort and dining that any wealthy gambler could desire.

Hotels, restaurants, and nightclubs all intermingled with the gambling rooms. Much smaller than Gama 9, they were still large enough to accommodate thousands of guests and housed hundreds of employees. Bryan found it interesting that the gambling syndicate found live employees more desirable than the robotic staff favored on Gama 9.

“Why don’t they use robots?” Bryan asked as they reviewed the casino layout.

“Live staff members are more attuned to their surroundings and are paid a bonus if they detect cheaters and encourage spending. Plus, I can almost promise you Rygon has people looking for opportunities,” Cris commented.

“Opportunities?” Bryan countered.

“For illicit profits,” Istu explained.

“You mean robbing people?” Bryan said, appalled at the notion.

“Robbery, extortion, loansharking, blackmail, I believe you call it,” Cris offered.

As they talked, the three had been working their way toward the lounge and galley area. Once Istu had boarded the ship, Cris sealed the cargo bay doors once more to protect those inside.

“Well, now we need to go scout the location, looking for our opportunities, then,” Bryan offered.

“And who do you propose does that?” Cris asked, his concerns over leaving the ship evident.

“Rygon has seen you and Istu, so neither of you can go,” Bryan explained as they discussed scouting the casino.

“Zaim and Kylo are also out as the Limar are skittish around Alaid and Brigmuns, or any of those species less akin to their own,” Cris commented as he thought through the issue at hand..

“Azizi is not a good choice. She tends to get easily distracted,” Istu cautioned.

“So, Aeryn and I then?” Bryan offered, his tone a little too enthusiastic.

“I am thinking Seren is a better choice in this case. Aeryn has the tactical expertise, but Seren is less likely to draw attention to your activities. She is also more experienced in the upper-class dynamics of upscale establishments,” Cris suggested.

“Seren, it is then,” Bryan confirmed.

----*----

Casino

Once the choice was made, Seren and Bryan used Rogue to travel to the orbiting space station that Bryan had dubbed Little Las Vegas. The small ship added to the illusion that they were wealthy and out looking for a good time, rather than a shuttle that might raise questions about its origins. Bryan piloted the ship to one of the many docking ports, and the pair grandly entered the facility.

“That's a different look for you?” Bryan commented as the two of them boarded the Rogue before departing from Independence.

Seren was without her usual jumpsuit. In its place was a one-piece dress attached at the neck, leaving her shoulders and back bare. The dress was form-fitting but not skintight, and it stopped mid-thigh.

“Which do you like better?” she asked, changing the color of the garment from white to black, and then to red.

Bryan considered that he knew a few women back home who would kill for a dress that changed colors. With that garment, you had a dress for all occasions with a push of a button.

“That’s cool. If we are trying to be flashy, I say red,” he offered.

“Agreed,” Seren replied with a bright smile.

Before they left Major, Seren had taken Bryan shopping, with Kylo and Aeryn accompanying them as bodyguards. Cris was not risking a repeat of the previous kidnapping incident, so they traveled armed. This trip yielded Bryan a new wardrobe of tailored finery, suitable for the casino atmosphere. Once again, Bryan had to be careful not to appear shirtless lest his hairy chest betray his unusual origins.

Now, as the couple made their way into the station, they both portrayed themselves as a well-to-do mated pair looking for a bit of adventure in the gambling and entertainment establishment.

“Physical security at the docking area is weak, but I noted three separate scanners between there and the main entrance,” Bryan commented idly as the couple entered the station.

The statement was less intended for Seren, as it was the recording device they brought along. The luggage Bryan and Seren brought along from the ship followed behind, hovering inches above the floor and trailing the pair like well-trained dogs. Embedded in the skin of each, sensors recorded everything in view, including the unseen security scanners everyone expected to encounter. Azizi had outdone herself, equipping the pair of suitcases with an array of active and passive scanners, as well as video and audio recorders.

Before entering the space station proper from the docking area, all patrons had to cross through the central main entrance. It was here that Bryan worried that their information-gathering systems might be detected. Still, as luck would have it, the security systems were focused on weapons and anything that might aid in cheating the house out of their winnings, and not the sensory devices they carried.

“We would like a suite, please, for two nights,” Bryan announced as they reached the reception area desk.

Bryan was familiar with the nuances of the customer accommodations from the trip to Gama 9, but the process was surprisingly similar to the one he knew on Earth. Instead of a large counter where clerks stood waiting, the lobby area featured roving automated attendants who guided prospective guests to panels on the walls, where they could select their preferences. Besides the intergalactic standard language, the interactive portals could conform to the preferred species' informational exchange. Written, visual, and audio options were available to all, but unfortunately, English was not an option for Bryan.

Every room had the potential for delivering a vast array of options, except for the room's proximity to the main gambling casino itself, which was dictated by its unchangeable physical location. A room with a view was meaningless as they all had viewing panels that guests could alter to their tastes. Most never bothered customizing their quarters, as most travelers here spent little time in the room, as the casino was the main attraction for the typical Limarian.

In keeping with their disguise, Bryan selected a significant number of creature comforts that suggested he had money to burn. As he couldn’t read the script before him, Seren whispered in one ear as she nuzzled his neck.

“Don’t forget the antigravity bed, I have plans for that,” Seren purred as she clung to Bryan’s arm and placed a kiss on his cheek while pointing out the selection on the panel.

He wasn’t sure if she was putting on a show for the others in the room or was serious, so he just smiled and nodded.

“Done and done,” Bryan declared as he slipped two platinum coins, one per night, into the slot provided for payment.

Seren commented during the planning session that most gambling facilities required payment up front, as many customers had left broke. Placing his palm on the pad, the system encoded his access, and then he had Seren repeat the process so they could both unlock their room. Once accepted, they followed the floating automated attendant, who led them to their room. Nothing more than a lighted ball, the device hovered about waist level on Bryan and blinked as it traveled through the halls.

Stopping before a portal, it waited until Bryan placed his palm on the access pad. Once the door opened to permit him and Seren access, the ball sped away, its job complete.

“Home sweet home,” Bryan commented as he allowed Seren to enter before him and then ushered their floating luggage into the space before entering himself and closing the door behind.

Turning, he found Seren already busy unpacking.

“Eager to hit the casino floor?” Bryan teased.

“Going to the casino doesn’t excite me,” she replied without further comment as she continued her activities.

Chapter 11

Casino

After changing into more suitable attire for wandering the casino, or so Seren explained, the two began to explore the entertainment facility in earnest. Bryan was sporting the alien version of a sports coat, slacks, and a straight-up, stiff collared shirt. The shirt reminded him of his dress Marine uniform in its fit and appearance around the neck and shoulders, and the rest was hidden under the jacket.

The suit coat had no collar or lapel, and was trimmed at the edges and stark in its lack of flash beyond the trim. It made up for it in the shimmer of the material, like silk, and it hung lightly on his frame. The look was intended to suggest the wearer was wealthy enough not to care what others thought.

Seren, on the other hand, was near scandalous in a knee-length semitransparent dress that shifted from see-through to opaque depending on the viewer's angle of sight. In the right light, he could see she wore nothing beneath it and could count freckles if she had any. It was obvious that she was here to be seen and attract attention for herself.

“Not to seem rude, but you do remember why we are here, right?” Bryan asked her before they left their room.

“Of course I remember, but you must trust me, the more outrageous our dress and behavior, the less likely we are to raise suspicion. Your natural instinct is to keep a low profile and hide in the shadows. Here, that makes you unusual and draws attention to yourself. Citizens of Minor are at the casino to cut loose and be shocking, do things they can’t do back home. Besides, Limar egos are huge, and while we will never pass as that species, we are expected to act accordingly,” she explained.

Bryan knew she was right as far as his role was concerned. By his very nature, the last thing he would do was try to draw attention to himself as he gathered intel on the facility’s security. He understood a trained eye wasn’t looking for anything in particular. They were looking for exceptions. If everyone were outrageous and over the top, it was the quiet one who would draw their attention. This was going to be more complicated than he thought.

Entering the casino main floor, he realized he needn’t worry about Seren attracting too much attention as there were men and women alike, all far more exposed than his companion. In several cases, the gamblers were almost nude, with glittering patches and body paint where clothing was expected, a spectacle Azizi would have admired. Others were well-dressed but in fanciful creations that would rival anything Paris Fashion Week had to offer.

Fur, feathers, and scales all draped off bodies in unimaginable colors throughout the room. Fabrics of all descriptions hung like smoke or water in motion.

“I never saw anything like this on Gama 9,” he commented to Seren as they wandered the space.

“That’s because you were with Aeryn, and not me. I frequented several establishments there that would put this place to shame,” she countered with a knowing smile.

He considered her response, suspecting his companion liked to cut loose in a very different manner than he was accustomed to.

“Over there,” Seren whispered while motioning with her head so as not to point overtly.

Glancing in the direction she indicated, Bryan saw the person they had come to find, and it was the man he had seen in the rifle scope. He was sitting at a table in what looked suspiciously like holding court, and those in attendance seemed to hang on to his every word as he spoke. He was the only one in the room who demonstrated such ownership of his surroundings.

“I recognize your handiwork,” Seren offered as she motioned at the missing hand on one arm.

Final confirmation of his identity was the appendage. Capped in what Bryan believed was a platinum cup, the appendage ended at the wrist.

“Why didn’t he have the MRT fix that?” he asked Seren as the pair stood in the crowd, trying not to stare as they worked to blend in.

“The MRT can’t fix what isn’t there. When you shot him, the hand must have been blown completely off, losing the biological material in the process. He could have a prosthetic hand made to replace it, with robotics so lifelike that you could never tell it wasn't his own, but I think he is doing that on purpose. Maybe it makes him look more gangster,” Seren said as he waved the stump around like a pointer.

Bryan had explained to the others earlier the whole Earth mob boss and gangster deal. So far, the translator had been working well enough, but for this trip, he wanted to prepare himself for what could be expected. After going into great detail on the little he knew of the criminal underground on Earth, the others confirmed that Rygon and his world would be similar in nature. It seemed a universal truth that it was good to be king, especially if you were a jerk.

Bryan had to agree with Seren's statement as Rygon used the missing hand to wave in the face of others at the table. Ignoring the principal target, Bryan scanned the area nearby, noting at least six bodyguards at or near the table and twice as many spread throughout the room. They stood out from the crowd, as all were much larger than the typical Limarian and did not seem to enjoy the setting as guests.

“He travels heavy. If I didn’t know any better, I would say he is paranoid,” Bryan noted to Seren.

“Yes, I see that. Let’s get a table,” she replied.

“Shouldn’t we gamble or something?” Bryan asked, worried about their cover.

“Oh, honey, I never gamble. I just come to places like this to drink and look fabulous,” Seren replied as she spun in place in her revealing dress.

With that, the two spent the next several hours laughing and flirting with one another as they worked on their surveillance task, each taking turns watching Rygon so as not to be too obvious. Bryan let Seren order the drinks as she knew what was safe and what would impair their efforts. As it turned out, several of the popular liquids would lay waste to the alien biology but had little or no impact on humans.

“He’s on the move,” Seren announced at one point as the man extricated himself from the crowd and began moving toward the exit.

Doing their best to act casual, the pair followed the man and his security entourage at a distance. As Rygon moved with intent, they had to do their best not to fall behind while masking the fact that they were following.

“Looks like this is where we stop,” Bryan commented as they watched Rygon and his guards pass through a security checkpoint that Seren explained had No Admittance, Off Limits to Non-station Personnel written all over.

Bryan had noted the visibly armed guards and figured out the meaning on his own.

“His quarters?” he asked.

“Maybe, or just the casino operations center,” she offered.

“Let’s find a place to sit for a bit and see who comes and goes,” Bryan replied as he led her to a nearby establishment.

“It is approaching the dinner hour,” Seren observed, noting that the closest place available to watch the entrance was a restaurant.

“I hope the food is edible,” Bryan moaned as he imagined some exotic alien fare.

“The Limar eat the same things we do, so it's not a risk,” Seren laughed.

“Risk and appetizing are not synonymous,” he answered.

For the next several hours, the pair ate, talked, and laughed, giving anyone who saw them the impression of a couple on a date. Bryan was surprised to find he was having a good time with the doctor, regardless of the reason they were there. It was rare for them to sit and talk alone together while on Independence, and it was a welcome change of pace.

He also noted that as the night drew to a close, Seren had switched to a more intoxicating drink.

“I’m off the clock,” she commented with a sultry smile when he raised an eyebrow at the order.

----*----

Casino Hotel Room

Before leaving Independence, Cris explained to Bryan that any communication systems used by the space station to communicate with the outside world were almost assuredly monitored. For that reason, he and Seren had been provided a separate secure means of reaching Independence. They needed to keep their conversations short as the station sensors would detect the transmissions but could not decode the content.

As he watched Seren prepare for bed, Bryan decided to check in. She came to look over his shoulder after slipping into her almost nothing sleepwear. She played with his hair and kissed his cheek and neck as they waited for the connection to establish.

“How’s it going?’ Cris asked as he stared at the two in the display, unfazed by the doctor’s attire.

“Day one has been productive. We found Rygon, and we think we have locked down his living quarters, but he travels heavy, and this place has security stations everywhere,” he explained.

“Don’t get frustrated, you won’t have much of an opportunity to establish a movement pattern or internal travel routes in the short time you are there. This trip is only to confirm he is in residence and the source of our frustrations,” he affirmed.

“Well, I can confirm he’s the one I shot,” Bryan commented.

“He wears the stump with pride, and I think it keeps him in a surly mood,” Seren added.

“Okay, have a good night, and we can follow up tomorrow evening. When you return, we should have more information on the station layout and the security roster details. I want to know how many we are up against,” Cris said

“I can see getting in with little problem, it's getting out again that seems daunting,” Bryan offered.

“Understood,” Cris replied before cutting the connection.

With that, Bryan put the communicator away in the hidden pocket inside their luggage. Turning, he saw Seren climb onto the oversized bed centered in the room.

“You need to get undressed and come here,” Seren instructed as she settled on top of the bed on her knees.

Bryan did as she ordered, and as soon as he lay beside her, she climbed on top, straddling him.

“Now this is what I’m so excited about,” she explained as she leaned over him and hit a button on the wall.

Gently, Bryan could feel the two of them lift off the bed and float about halfway between the ceiling and the surface of the bed.

“This is more like it,” Seren commented as her legs dangled freely, and the couple floated midair.

Looking down at Bryan, she slipped her nightgown over her head and leaned in to kiss him.

“I agree, but now that we are here, we can’t reach the button again. How are we getting back down?” he asked as they paused between kisses.

“You won’t need to worry about that for a long time,” she whispered in his ear as she nibbled on it.

“Whose worried?” he replied between kisses.

----*----

Casino

The following morning, Bryan woke to find both he and Seren lying on the surface of the bed, she still sound asleep beside him. Apparently, the antigravity mode was on a timer, and the pair had been gently deposited back on the bed's surface long after they had exhausted themselves and fallen fast asleep.

Slipping from the bed, he gently covered her with the sheet, quietly cleaned up, then dressed and headed out to explore on his own. Much of what he discovered in the alien experiences was similar to his life on Earth. Beds with sheets and blankets, bars and restaurants, and the hotels and markets all suggested that perhaps these were ideas brought to Earth by space visitors long ago. Dismissing the thought, he began to wander the corridors outside the hotel.

Familiar with Las Vegas, he was unsurprised to find the place buzzing at this early hour, for it seemed gamblers never slept. First, he swung by the security door where they had lost Rygon the previous evening, and Bryan found it manned and as unwelcoming as ever. Next, he visited the casino floor, where they had initially seen the owner, but he was not found there either.

“Can I help you?” one of the roving live attendants asked, as Bryan suspected he appeared lost.

The female before him looked young, but Bryan knew should could be twice his age or more. He wondered if MRT treatments were part of the compensation package the employees enjoyed. He was sure Rygon used attractive men and women in his employ, just like the Vegas casinos did back home, to lure patrons into the more profitable pastimes.

“Oh, it’s nothing, I swore I saw the owner here last night and hoped I might run into him again and introduce myself. It's all very exciting, you know, seeing important people,” Bryan gushed, as a gawking tourist.

“Mister Rygon, yes, he was here, but it is best not to attempt to talk to him unless you are invited. His security team is overly protective of his time,” the female explained with a pained look.

“That’s funny, I had been told he was always available for a big spender,” Bryan countered as he produced several coins in one hand, rattling them around as he did so.

In his experience, there wasn’t a casino owner alive who didn’t at least say hello to someone dropping huge sums in his or her establishment. The fact that he and Seren hadn’t spent a copper gambling wasn’t known to anyone on the floor, so the boast was without merit, but unverifiable.

“Well, that is true, but I would be cautious if I were you all the same. I can tell you he breakfasts in the Gold Room every morning about this time, you might find him there,” she added cautiously as she eyed the hand with the money.

“Thanks, you are a gem,” Bryan replied as he slipped the woman a couple of silvers for the information.

----*----

Gold Room

As it turned out, the Gold Room was a lounge that reflected the second-highest monetary unit in the universe. Bryan learned there was a Copper Room for those who couldn’t afford the very best, a Silver Room that was a step up from there, and likely the most popular destination, and the Gold Room, which catered to the more refined among the wealthy guests. In all, they spanned the difference between going to eat at McDonald's and Peter Luger’s Steakhouse.

He imagined there was a Platinum Room somewhere in the space station, but he assumed it was by invitation only, as no one wanted to discuss its existence or location when asked. He figured if you had to ask, you weren't invited.

“This must be the place,” Bryan muttered to himself as he strolled into the room.

Entering the lounge, he was surprised to see it was doing a booming business with over half the tables occupied and the dull hum of conversation disturbing the silence. It wasn’t hard to find Rygon as his table sat on a raised dais in one corner of the space, a barrier outlining the border between the public and private sections visible. On Earth, it would be a velvet rope, but here it was a glowing beam that Bryan suspected held a nasty shock to anyone attempting to cross it uninvited.

Behind the barrier, Rygon sat alone while his security people kept a respectable distance outside the barrier. Eating and reading from a holographic projection that hovered before him, the man didn’t look up from what he was doing to observe the activity around him. The projected display was fixed in front of the reader but was indiscernible to anyone standing nearby.

Bryan imagined he was reviewing his nightly reports on how the casino and its associated space station business were performing. He knew if he ran the place, that would be his morning task.

To Bryan, the image was almost laughable, as it could have been a scene from any gangster movie he had seen on Earth. He sometimes wondered if all the content humans broadcast into space ended up in the hands of people and places like this.

“There you are,” he heard suddenly as Seren appeared and slipped her arm in his.

Accepting the offered kiss as they pretended to be a loving couple on holiday, he wondered if either was acting out their role for the public or each other. He knew, on his part, the affection was genuine, and after last night's escapades, he suspected she felt the same.

“You looked so content, I didn’t have the heart to wake you,” he offered as he led her to an open table that gave them a good view of the target.

The room was mainly staffed by robotic attendants for table service, and the living alternatives were reserved for specific clients only. Rygon had a pair of Limar servants tending to his needs, but most nearby patrons used the automated option.

“I see you found our friend,” Seren commented as she seated herself where she had a great view of the casino owner.

“Yes, I had hoped to catch him emerging from his quarters, but it seems our friend is an early riser. A little bird told me he takes his morning meal here every day,” he replied.

Bryan could see the reference confused Seren about his informant, but she moved past it without comment.

“Security is lower here, but it's all very public. What are you thinking anyway, an assassination? I thought we decided that might not be the best solution,” Seren said as the robot waiter hovered over to take their order.

Her lack of concern when talking about terminating the life of the alien was almost disturbing to Bryan. Then he recalled she had been a victim of his attempt to draw Bryan out as the shooter who took his hand. He imagined she wanted to see him removed as a future threat.

“I am famished,” she added as she entered her choices.

Bryan was grateful that the menu display had both words and images, so he could order for himself without requiring Seren to interpret the written script.

“Nothing so dramatic if we can help it, I just want to do something to put the fear of God in him. I can’t speak for Aeryn, though. She is very mad about the snatch and grab they pulled on her and the rest of you on Major. A little embarrassed as well, I think,” he replied.

“She is not alone in that perspective. What would scare someone like that?” she asked as she indicated the man as he rose from his table and slowly made his way out the door.

“That’s what we are here to find out,” Bryan replied with a smile.

Chapter 12

Independence

“Did you two have a good time?” Azizi asked innocently as she greeted Seren and Bryan in the shuttle bay.

Rogue had just touched down in the spot set aside for the little ship when Cris, Aeryn, and Azizi entered. The three waited until Bryan and Seren exited the craft, and then they greeted them warmly. To get Rogue in and out of the shuttle bay, it had been necessary for Independence to take flight and maintain an orbit until after the return.

Once retrieved, Zaim would return the ship to its assigned storage location at the spaceport.

“Cris, I want an antigravity bunk for my cabin,” Seren replied with a smile at Bryan.

“Talk to the engineer,” Cris replied as he ignored the request.

“We spent two days shadowing Rygon and did find one possible time when he is exposed and vulnerable, but it’s not ideal,” Bryan commented, ignoring Seren’s request and the implications.

“We found a source for the design data of the station itself. It turns out it wasn’t originally built as a casino. Rygon took over the property from the original owner after it fell out of favor. It was built as a space port for Minor, an alternative to a ground facility here and similar in function to what we saw on Cypho 3, but on a much smaller scale.” Cris began as the five walked out of the shuttle bay and toward the crew lounge.

“Not hard to imagine the residents of Minor thinking they were equal to a core planet,” Aeryn commented in a tone not complimentary to the residents of Pantera Minor.

“What happened?” Bryan asked, his curiosity getting the better of him as he sidetracked the conversation.

“It wasn’t profitable, and the citizens of Minor got tired of paying the maintenance bills for the minimal convenience. There simply wasn’t enough space traffic to justify maintaining the space station when the richest had landing pads and the majority could shuttle to the spaceport on Major for their travel needs. Rygon acquired the place for less than the original cost of construction, and the casino has been a popular and lucrative alternative ever since,” Cris replied.

“A nice place to get away and cut loose,” Aeryn added.

“So long as you pay your debts,” Seren offered.

“Just so. It has been quite profitable for Rygon, nonetheless,” Cris agreed.

“Why would you risk everything you built on a vendetta?” Seren commented absently.

The comment struck a note with Bryan as the others continued to talk.

“Rygon seemed fixated on his image. He wanted to punish the last client to send a message to other potential deadbeats, or so he said. I think he likes fostering the image that he and his casino are not to be trifled with,” Aeryn proposed.

“The Casino. Maybe we have been thinking about this all wrong. It's not Rygon we should be focused on, it’s the casino,” Bryan suggested.

“You want to kidnap a casino?” Seren asked in confusion.

“Yes. Yes, I do,” Bryan said with a smile.

----*----

Pantera Major Spaceport

“You can’t be serious?” Aeryn commented as she watched Bryan studying the 3D hologram of the station layout.

“As a heart attack. For some people, there are things more important to them than their own lives. For Rygon, I am betting it's that casino he values above all else. Living without it would be like losing a hand,” he replied sarcastically.

“I would wager it is the primary source of his power and influence, but it's not designed to travel beyond the orbit it occupies,” Cris offered, his statement suggesting they would need to relocate the object of their attention.

Azizi stood quietly listening to the others as she studied the display with the same intensity as Bryan. If she had any suggestions of her own, she was keeping them to herself for the time being.

“I have an idea on how we can take the station from him without moving it an inch from its current orbit, but I need some items,” Bryan explained to the three as he began writing.

He produced a piece of paper with scribblings on it and handed it over for their inspection. Running it through the translator, a second sheet was printed in intergalactic standard for their eyes.

“Are you crazy? This is insane,” Aeryn burst out as she pointed to the last item on the list.

“Probably, but I need something along those lines that can’t be detected by scanners or sniffed out later,” he added.

“You know, if it were packaged in enclosures that resembled real items, it would go completely unnoticed,” Azizi offered with a faraway look of consideration.

Bryan could see the engineer had already derived the essence of his plan and was on board. The others still seemed to be evaluating his sanity.

“You read my mind,’ he answered brightly as he patted her hand in unity.

----*----

Independence

“We have a job,” Cris announced at dinner the following day as everyone made themselves a plate.

“Cris, is that a good idea as we are hip deep in preparations for Rygon’s neutering?” Bryan offered.

Consensus was they didn’t want to kill the gangster unless it was unavoidable. The prevailing opinion was that he would be replaced by someone worse, possibly bent on revenge for the death of his predecessor. All they wanted to do was convince Rygon that he was better off leaving Independence and its crew alone.

“We can handle both, I am sure. Besides, we can’t just sit here idle, every sol we sit here cuts into the ship’s cash reserves,” Aeryn added, supporting Cris.

“Can we just up and leave? Aren’t we waiting for deliveries?” Bryan countered.

“We won’t need Independence for this job, just Rogue. Also, it’s only a two-person gig, and you and Aeryn are the best choice and not busy at the moment,” he replied to Bryan, working to allay his concerns.

On Independence, Rogue was used more like a shuttle than its originally designed function. Built for interstellar travel, it had been constructed as a pleasure transport for a wealthy Minor citizen. At some point in its long life, it was sold to a cargo hauler that stripped the ship of its finer accessories and ran it ragged until it was finally sold as scrap, the cost of repairs far exceeding its resale value.

All that mattered not at all to Bryan, as he purchased the ship at scrap and paid the repair bill on the little craft for a mission critical to the Independence and crew. After Azizi worked her magic, the ship not only fulfilled its potential but also exceeded it in every way. While Bryan maintained ownership of the craft, as he did the Jeep he dragged along after escaping Earth, he made it available to all the crew should the need arise.

At some point, he wondered if he might take the ship and head out on his own, but that was not something he envisioned for a very long time. He had a lot to learn about space travel and the ways of the universe, so he was pretty content with his current situation. For now, Independence was home and the crew his family, so the thought of leaving them all behind was not something he dwelt upon.

“So, the job?” Aeryn asked.

“Yes. We have been asked to gather some intel in an uncharted sector just outside the rim,” Cris explained cryptically.

“A recon job?” Bryan translated.

“Cris, that’s a government job, we can’t do that, Independence will be uncovered for sure,” Aeryn protested in panic.

“That’s the beauty of it. Yes, Independence is an outlaw ship, but Rogue is not. She is legally registered, bought at auction, and owned by an oversized Cheizat captain named B Norton,” Cris replied.

“That’s all well and good, but the minute we step into any government facility and they scan him, they will know he’s not Cheizat,” Aeryn pressed.

“This job is handled through a broker in the spaceport offices and not at the main government offices in the city. Look, I know this is a little on the edge, but it will let us get Rogue on the officially approved subcontractor list. That could be very valuable at some point in the future,” Cris reasoned.

From what little Bryan could follow of the conversation, his little ship was being groomed to fly into the lion’s den at some future date as a proxy for Independence. He could see how completing an official government contract would aid in his credibility. He had to admit Cris was always planning for upcoming opportunities, something he admired in the man.

“Bryan, while I know you have been learning to fly, I would propose Aeryn act as the ship’s pilot for this trip and you back her up,” Cris commented, the assumption that the job was a go quite obvious.

Bryan had indeed been working hard to accumulate his flight hours, but with their ship grounded on Major, it had been challenging to find the time. Every so often, he and Aeryn would sit in Rogue’s cockpit and run simulations, but there was no substitute for real flight time.

“Why us? Rogue is just one little ship?” Bryan questioned.

“Exactly. All the Enforcer vessels in the area are large military craft, and there are no civilian ships available that meet the government's demanding specifications. They need someone to slip in and look around without attracting undue attention. I sold them on the premise that you two were former Enforcers doing a little freelance work to pay the bills,” Cris said with a short laugh.

“Where is this place exactly?” Aeryn questioned, the suspicion on her face noticeable.

“Just outside the rim in the uncharted zone,” Cris replied.

It was clear the answer meant something to Aeryn, and she just shook her head in resignation, but to Bryan, it meant nothing.

“I thought the rim was on the far side near Earth,” Bryan said.

“While this is the far side of the universe compared to where Earth is, there is a limit to civilized space in all directions, even here. Only those systems central to the cosmos are far from the lawless edges of space, so the rim is not one area; it’s all over,” Aeryn replied.

“And because of that, the contract includes certain upgrades, provided at no expense,” Cris added with a smile.

Independence Cargo Bay

“This stuff is crap, I wouldn’t install it on your Jeep,” Azizi mumbled to Bryan and Aeryn as she inspected the weapons provided to her from the delivery service.

“None of it is any use to us?” Bryan asked in disbelief.

“Only if you want to throw it at someone,” she replied in disgust as she tossed a part at him.

Catching the object in midair, Bryan inspected the component. Even to his untrained eye, the part had the look of age and abuse that raised questions about its value. Passing it to Aeryn, she had the same look of disappointment that Azizi demonstrated.

“It doesn’t surprise me. The Enforcers are known for resisting arming anyone or anything that is not part of their ranks,” Aeryn explained.

“Do we even need it? I mean, we are already well armed,” Bryan commented.

“They don’t know that, but we can pretend we installed them and then return this pile to the broker once the job is done,” Aeryn replied.

“That way, if we get into a shooting argument, we have plausible deniability as to the weapon’s source,” Bryan said with a look of understanding.

“You guys go, I am going to poke through the rest of this and let you know if I find anything useful,” Azizi said, her disgust evident.

----*----

Independence Galley

“The job is going to take four to five sols minus travel time to, from, and between locations,” Aeryn outlined as she pointed to the hologram before them.

Still a student of astronavigation, she noted Bryan was diligently tracking everything she and Kylo did to plot the courses that would navigate their way to and from the various star systems.

“There are four planetary areas that are of interest to the government. I use the term loosely as three of them are more like moons, with one circling a planet while the others circle a star,” she commented as the four targets lit up on the map.

“I can’t believe we are doing a recon job for the Enforcers,” Bryan observed as he shook his head in disbelief.

“Normally, I would press Cris to pass on this job, but I saw the payout, which is sizable, and the objective is a good one. Some pirates have been raiding colonies and cargo ships running supplies throughout the sector, kidnapping or taking hostages and then disappearing into the uncharted zone as quickly as they appeared,” Aeryn acknowledged.

“The settlements are undefended and ravaged, while the craft they pillage are heavily damaged in the attacks. Senseless damage to incite fear,” Aeryn analyzed.

“Nothing chaps my ass more than the strong praying on the weak and defenseless,” Bryan commented in support.

“Makes one wish to turn the tables on the bullies,” Aeryn nodded in a knowing exchange.

Aeryn did not understand many things about this human. His regular demonstrations of affection and open expressions of humor confused her. The one thing she understood all too well was his outrage for those who used their superior strength and skills to abuse the weak and defenseless. On more than one occasion, he had stepped up and challenged the threats with a track record she had come to admire greatly.

“How are they attacked in a jump?” Bryan questioned, referring to the spaceships in transit.

“The uncharted zone is so populous with stars and planets you can’t jump through it, you either go around or pass through in normal space/time travel,” Kylo explained.

“With that many habitable planets, why is it so deserted then?” Bryan piled on.

“The stars in that area are constantly in motion in relation to the rest of the stable universe. They move in ways that make permanent settlements unappealing, but not impossible. It’s not uncharted because of a lack of effort, it’s the unstable nature of the stars themselves that makes any mapping or documentation outdated in a very short time,” Kylo responded.

“It’s a great spot to stop and enjoy the natural environment for a short time, or in this case, a secret hideout, but it disrupts interplanetary commerce with an ever-changing fix among the stars,” Aeryn offered.

“There have been many attempts to establish a more permanent occupation, as the planets are quite appealing. Most established settlements use location beacons and transmit signals to be followed by those looking to find their latest placement in the stars,” Kylo added.

“So, we will search the areas outlined in the job request, record what we find, and collect our pay. I honestly doubt we will find much, as I am sure this isn’t the first attempt to locate this group,” Aeryn announced in frustration.

“Hey, one thing bothers me, how are we gonna get paid without getting unmasked?” Bryan asked, knowing the government would identify anyone who came to collect as an outlaw.

“We are working for a broker, not the Enforcers directly. The broker will take a cut as the middleman, but we still make a tidy sum,” Aeryn explained.

“And the broker….” Bryan started.

“Doesn’t give a hoot about who we are so long as they get their cut,” Kylo finished.

“There is something about this job that doesn’t ring true,” Aeryn commented as she looked at the others.

“How so?” Cris asked.

“The pay is excellent, but the objective is unclear. It's like they want us to go stumbling around and see what we can uncover,” she outlined.

“I can't say you are wrong, but we both know the Enforcers are not above sacrificing others for ulterior motives,” Cris countered.

“Yeah, that worries me when we are on the sacrificial altar,” Bryan added, agreeing with Aeryn’s concerns.

Chapter 13

Independence galley

Bryan, Cris, Kylo, and Aeryn were sitting at the table planning the mission when Azizi came in and dropped a mass of components on the table before them.

“What are those?” Cris asked as he picked one up for inspection.

“Trackers. The weapons the government provided are infected with them,” she replied disgustingly.

“Why would they put trackers in the weapons?” Bryan asked in confusion.

“Two reasons. The first is that they did not release the arms indefinitely and are likely to recall the shipment in total once you return from your mission. The second and more likely reason is that they don’t believe you will return, and with this, they can identify the system in which you met your fate in. That will give them a good idea where to focus their efforts,” Cris explained as he held up one of the devices.

“So, we are bait,” Bryan said more than questioned.

“Exactly,” Aeryn agreed.

“What prompted this interest by the government anyway? Aren't they usually hands-off for colony problems?” Bryan asked.

“That is true for the usual pirate raids on open shipping and settlements where civilization can grow and eventually take care of its problems. The area in question here is flush with naturally occurring habitable moons and planets that can't evolve past their initial state. Think of the places on Earth where clusters of islands lie unclaimed and ripe for human occupancy, but a host nation must protect them to survive,” Cris began.

“We had that in the Caribbean, the major powers colonized the islands, but pirates ran amok for years, plundering the riches,” Bryan offered.

“What happened? How did they stop it?” Kylo asked.

“In the end, they grew too big for the smaller outlaws to plunder. A greater military presence and a decline in pirate havens meant they had no safe place to retreat to between raids. In all, it was civilization that killed them off, as you say,” Bryan explained.

“Here, the Enforcers have beefed up patrols in the region of space, but they can’t stop them without a permanent presence, as you say. They pick up the pieces afterward and leave the area. Because the raiders are small timers, they hide well, and the government forces are too large and lumbering as they try to navigate the area undetected,” Aeryn added.

Bryan had seen images of the ships the Enforcers used to patrol the universe. Their general attitude of moving troops in large numbers left them few options for chasing these small-scale raider operations. Bryan understood they preferred to let the local planetary constabulary handle such incidents, but that wasn’t an option in unsettled space. This was a place where civilization would never outgrow the problem.

“We might not choose to acknowledge it, but the Enforcers are not all bad. They do a great deal to protect the average citizen who is just trying to survive in the universe. That’s why I took this job. Besides the fact that it pays very well, it aligns with our morals and values. It's not often we can say we and the enforcers have a common goal,” Cris explained.

Aeryn and Bryan spent the rest of the day preparing Rogue for the trip, packing food and clothing for twice the expected duration. The weapons locker was a mixture of energy-based threats and the projectile arms that Bryan favored. Again, there were far more choices than both could carry combined, but that was both Bryan and Aeryn’s attitude: better to have it and not need it.

“Why are you packing combat gear?” Aeryn asked as she watched Bryan stow items usually associated with a ground assault.

“You mentioned there might be hostages,” Bryan answered as he continued his activities.

“I said they may have taken some, yes, when speculating on the Enforcer's interest in the area,” she reiterated.

“I for one do not imagine leaving anyone behind if we can help it,” he affirmed.

“Okay, I see your point, having been the beneficiary of that attitude,” she nodded with a smile.

Aeryn suppressed a shudder as she recalled Bryan in rescue mode. He had one rule when it came to overcoming overwhelming odds, and that was to do whatever it takes to win. His blood-splattered image still hung on the wall in the engineering lab, a shrine to Aziz’s appreciation of his red and black body color palette. It was the closest any of the crew had come to her displays of colorful emotion, and she embraced it, regardless of the emotion it portrayed.

She claimed she appreciated the intensity of conviction it conveyed, as well as the emotions of human rage and revenge. All Aeryn could see was the bodies he left in his wake, life’s blood draining away into the soil.

“Are we taking the Jeep then?” she asked, working to change her mental images.

“I think not unless you have other ideas. I can’t imagine we will be anywhere long enough to risk wandering that far away from the ship,” he reasoned.

“Agreed. We can explore on foot if we need to,” she added as she began helping him stow their gear.

----*----

Independence

“Do you have a moment?” Kylo asked as he and Zaim intercepted Bryan and Aeryn in the passageway

“What’s up?” Aeryn asked as the pilot and navigator led them into the galley.

Silently, the four sat in the lounge before anyone spoke.

“Look, there are no two people more inclined to get into trouble when they are together than you two and, on this mission, both Kylo and I agree you will not stop poking at the galt until you find it,” Zaim began.

Once again, Bryan noted that the galt came up in conversation as some wild creature to be avoided. One of these days, he was going to find himself one to see what all the commotion was about.

“What Zaim means to say is we did some research to aid in your mission and found something we think you need to be aware of,” Kylo added as he brought up a holograph.

“As you know, the uncharted zone is problematic due to the overall unstable nature of the stars there. To add to that reputation, one section is almost impassable due to the emissions of the radio stars. Besides all the irregular movement, all the ship’s sensors are inoperable because of the interference, and pilots must travel by visual navigation. The stars can be identified by their radiation signature, but moving from one system to the next is inconsistent,” Zaim began.

“Outbound travel is no more challenging than in any other part of the zone, but the return leg to the specified planet frustrates those looking to settle there,” Kylo explained.

“We believe this is the ideal place for a hidden pirate base, because they must use transponders that they only activate at preassigned times and frequencies to aid their ships in returning. There are only a few good places to enter the chaos safely, and this is the closest to the space lanes,” Zaim said as he lit up the spot in the 3D map.

“We were thinking that if you were to secure a hiding spot near here and wait for inbound traffic, you could follow a ship in without being detected. All sensor systems will be down, and they won't know you are behind them unless someone gets out and looks. Once you locate the planet, land, and set your transponder before leaving,” Kylo offered.

“So, you two are suggesting we abandon our search plan and lay a trap instead?” Aeryn asked with a look of confusion.

Neither Kylo nor Zaim was considered an outside-the-box thinker, and this proposal definitely went against traditional thought.

“We know it’s not what we were contracted to do by the client, some might say it’s a crazy idea,” Kylo stammered as Zaim remained silent.

“I like it!” Bryan exclaimed.

----*----

Independence

Before leaving for the uncharted zone, Bryan visited Azizi in the engineering lab to check on her progress. The plot to get Rygon off their backs had been put on hold until he and Aeryn returned, but he had been assured the rest of the crew would return their complete attention to that effort once they left.

Entering engineering, he was surprised to find Istu at the engineer’s side, both hovering over the workbench.

“Oh hey, you guys ready to launch?” the towering alien asked as he looked up from his work.

Azizi stood stark naked, her usual attire when in her workspace, as she continued her activity uninterrupted.

“Yeah, I just wanted to see if there were any questions on my sketches,” Bryan replied.

When he devised his plan to quell Rygon’s aggressions against the ship and crew, he sketched a few ideas about how his plan might be executed. Azizi had collected them and rushed off to the lab to see what she could do with the images' ideas.

Bryan cringed as he looked past the pair and saw his image plastered on the far wall. His blood-splattered body encased in the shredded remnants of his clothing did little to tell the tale in its entirety. More of the blood on display was his own than his victims and the knife in one hand spoke to the intimate nature of the killing that had ensued. His rifle had been slung across his back and moved out of the way for convenience.

He bore neither shame nor pride at the image and the story it told. It was just confirmation of the lengths he would go to safeguard those he considered his to protect and defend.

“I am one with your thoughts in this matter. Be assured we will deliver exactly what you need to execute your plan once you return,” Azizi answered over one shoulder while she focused on her work.

Bryan nodded, understanding that for the female to pass up an opportunity to tease and taunt him, she was fully absorbed in the task. Considering the materials she was handling, he appreciated her dedication.

“Alright, we are off then, good luck,” he replied as he exited the engineering space and headed to the shuttle bay.

----*----

Pantera Major Spaceport

Leaving Pantera Spaceport was a little more complicated than just lifting off, as Rogue was technically not berthed there. As a resident of Stargazer shuttle bay, Independence's alter ego, she was officially not registered in the starship operations logs. While Rogue had been out and about on several jaunts, they had always launched from Independence under the guise of a shuttle.

The solution had been to refer back to the original shipyard manifest. As a relic headed to the scrapyard, she had been saved and restored to good health, with several trips on the books to and from various repair shops. This trip was to be logged as a shakedown cruise, the first from the planet’s surface.

The best part was that as she was heading to the uncharted zone on Enforcer business, she was exempt from filing anything more than the contract ID in their flight plan.

“You ready?” Aeryn asked from the pilot’s seat as Bryan settled in beside her.

“Good to go,” he replied as he went through the sequence he had trained for as a navigator and copilot.

With no great flourish, Aeryn guided the ship out of the spaceport and pointed into the stars.

----*----

Rogue, Uncharted Zone

The flight plan Aeryn and Kylo had laid out was for the small ship to travel to four separate solar systems in a pattern that took them ever closer to where they wanted to lay their trap. The entrance to the unstable zone at that location was populated with an asteroid belt made up of cosmic collisions from eons of celestial impacts. The null gravity well at that spot in space created by the nearby stars in motion left them randomly gathered like driftwood on a beach.

“Hey, I never asked, what did Azizi do with the government weapons we were supplied?” Bryan asked as Aeryn piloted the ship toward their first destination.

“Put them all back in the crates in the Independence cargo hangar. We already had better firepower than all of the stuff the Enforcers supplied.”

“And the trackers?” he continued.

“See that box there. It has the transponders Azizi found inside it,” she replied, pointing to a briefcase-sized container on one side of the cockpit.

“Cris and I discussed it and agreed we should take them along for appearances' sake. We can always jettison the lot into the closest star if things get weird and we find ourselves being harassed by Enforcer ships. The plus side of taking them is that they should help us map the locations we visit. We discovered the trackers are more sophisticated than the weapons they sent us. They not only document the route, they also collect data on the nearby planets and moons,” Aeryn laughed.

A beeping from Bryan’s console redirected their attention.

“First stop,” Bryan announced unceremoniously.

Dropping out of jump, the pair found themselves at the edge of the uncharted zone. For Bryan, this area of the universe was a few too many zones for his liking. Uncharted, unstable, and unsafe all seemed to be bandied about interchangeably, and all inferred that the region of space was more trouble than it was worth.

“From here on in, it's VFR,” Bryan added, referring to the Earth term for Visual Flight Rules.

As he scanned his console, he noted the readings were erratic and in some cases impossible to believe. At one moment, they were headed toward a star, and then, in the next, the same instrument declared the space ahead to be open and unoccupied.

There was some directional stability, enhanced by visual interpreting equipment, which allowed them to proceed to preselected destinations. While the invisible radiation and gravity waves bounced around like ping pong balls, the planets and stars were still quite visible to the naked eye.

Homing beacons and navigational aids installed by the planetary residents assisted ships toward their destination while broadcasting warnings for the pilots to be vigilant for visual dangers, as their sensors weren’t to be trusted. Entering the star system, Bryan could see one blue-green planet that looked to be teeming with life.

“Let's not bother to land, a simple orbit or two will suffice. If there were a pirate base down there, they would come up to greet us immediately, we are a tasty-looking target,” Aeryn confirmed.

With Aeryn piloting the craft, Bryan did his best to monitor the few reliable sensors.

“On course,” he confirmed as the globe grew in size before them.

Within an hour, they were in orbit and scanning the surface below them.

“I read two, no, three large settlements. Who in their right mind would choose here to live?” he scoffed as he continued to collect data.

“I know this planet, it's renowned for producing a beverage you would find akin to wine. Something about the gravity distortions impacting the light from the star that encourages the exotic plant they use in its creation,” she offered.

“Wow, those are vast vineyards,” Bryan commented as he magnified the visual of the surface.

“Almost all the growable soil is consumed by one of the three operations, and the product is costly after it hits the open market,” she explained.

“Maybe we should drop by and pick up a few bottles, or even a case,” he joked.

“Only if we do it for resale, it is toxic to humans,” she admonished.

“Never mind, okay, next planet,” he said dejectedly as the monitor indicated their scan was complete.

“No pirates there,” he confirmed.

“I doubted there were, too exposed,” Aeryn replied before breaking orbit and exiting the system.

----*----

Independence Bridge

Azizi entered the bridge as Zaim, Kylo, and Cris sat discussing their imagined options should Aeryn and Bryan call for emergency assistance. None envisioned that the pair would ever cry for help, only in the direst of circumstances, but the topic held a particular fascination for the three. Considering the couple's history, it was assumed the two could handle anything short of a supernova.

“Captain, I am finished with the items Bryan requested. What should we do now?” she questioned.

“Well, we could wait for their return, I suppose,” Cris pondered

“That could be sols from now,” Kylo offered.

“Does anyone know where they are supposed to go?” Zaim asked in curiosity, referring to the devices Azizi created.

“I do, I helped him plan the entire thing,” Azizi declared brightly.

“Azizi, you would have to go there and help locate the exact spots. That means out where your colorful nature can betray you,” Kylo affirmed.

It wasn’t as if Azizi hadn’t been out in public before, but most of the places the crew frequented were not to the liking of the Gazht, and certainly not those of the more proper and affluent class. Azizi flew under the radar because her haunts were taverns and bars, encouraging outrageous behavior and unrestricted outbursts. It was all the things her species detested and, as such, were very unlikely to be found there.

The casino was more risky because it catered to the upper crust of society and the loosest-paying customers on the social ladder. While gambling was not a Gazht vice, the hotels, restaurants, and theaters did attract the occasional techno nerd. As much as Azizi admired the individual's emotional performance, her compatriots appreciated the entire production spectacle.

“That means no naked colorama displays. You need to dress as mundane and inconspicuous as possible, you know, Gazht standard attire,” Cris defined.

“For Bryan, I am willing to go dressed boring and drab if that’s what it takes,” the engineer announced with conviction.

“It’s settled then, we will execute phase one of the insane human plan and wait for their return to complete the mission,” Zaim proclaimed.

Chapter 14

Uncharted Zone

Rogue diligently made its way through the uncharted zone as Aeryn followed the original flight plan she and Zylo had laid out. With nothing more than navigational beacons to follow as they moved from one system to the next, there wasn’t much for Bryan to do in the second seat but watch for rocks. Aeryn used the opportunity to do some pilot training with the human, and thankfully, Bryan was glad for the time in the pilot’s seat as a break from his boredom.

As there were no jumps in their flight plan, pilot fatigue was a genuine concern, and the lack of automated piloting systems a constant reminder of why the zone was inhospitable. Once Aeryn was comfortable with Bryan understanding the limitations of their situation and had mastered the technique of flying Rogue without the aid of navigational systems he had trained on, the two settled into a rhythm. They worked out a schedule where each pilot would relieve the other at the pilot’s station, while the alternate either slept or relaxed in the copilot/navigator’s seat to keep each other company.

Both were anxious to move past the perfunctory portion of their mission, the trip to the systems and planets outlined by the Enforcers expected to yield nothing but burned fuel and depleted lifetimes. During times like these, Bryan appreciated Azizi’s double- and triple-redundant attitude as they had enough fuel to wander the area for years.

“Well, that was four days I will never get back,” Bryan complained as he turned the ship over to Aeryn.

“Okay, for this last leg, I am taking the controls back until we head out of here. I need you to watch for any traffic in the area on the viewing scope while I find a place for us to hide,” Aeryn explained.

For this mission, Azizi had installed a visual alert system that could act as a living eye, alerting to objects not cataloged as planets, stars, comets, or other celestial bodies. It could see in all directions and would trigger on artificial constructs like ships, space stations, or even wreckage.

It would be Bryan’s job to assess any alerts and determine the nature of the object. This same system would assist in locating inbound ships that they intended to follow. As they made their way toward the asteroids, the massive rock chunks began to loom large in his display.

It gave him little solace that the visual alert system declared them naturally occurring bodies and therefore of no interest. He was sure that crashing into one would be of great interest regardless of the system’s opinion. Trying his best not to let the space rocks take up all his attention, and trusting that Aeryn had it under control, he worked to scan the other open areas of space looking for ships that might lead them toward their goal.

“We are down,” Aeryn declared as a solid bump that shook the ship confirmed her announcement.

Bryan noted that they both breathed a sigh of relief, the stress of the last day and a half weighing on both of them more heavily than they had realized. They planned to land on one of the larger asteroids and sit as invisibly as possible until a ship of interest passed them by.

“Dinner and bedtime?” he offered as he set the visual tracking system on automatic.

“Yes, please,” she responded.

Should anything come into visual range that qualified as artificial, the system would alert, waking them both and spurring them on to investigate. While some might have felt this was a prime opportunity to enjoy more intimate entertainment, a visual exchange between them as they made their way to the galley confirmed that neither wanted more than a meal and some rest.

There was an unspoken concern that none of their alarms and alerts would protect them should this asteroid choose to slam into another nearby object and kill them in their sleep. As there wasn’t enough time to vacate their hiding hole, they had to trust in the universe's gods that they were destined to live on for greater things.

----*----

Rogue

It seemed his head had only just hit the pillow when the alarm sounded. Bryan and Aeryn shared the same cabin but enjoyed separate bunks as the pair needed sleep to continue the mission. He checked the time and found they had been asleep for over six hours.

“That’s the visual monitor,” Aeryn declared as she slipped from the lower bunk.

Neither had bothered to get undressed for bed, so both headed straight to the small bridge to see what had tripped the alert.

“It’s a ship, alright,” Aeryn announced as the image traveled across the screen.

“Is it a pirate vessel?” Bryan asked in ignorance.

“It's not like they have a flag or anything,” Aeryn replied, referring to the tales Bryan had shared of the pirates on Earth.

Aeryn seemed to delight in listening to his tales of Earth’s history and the evolution of humans on his planet. He wondered if it was the fact that she had no planet to call home herself. The Cheizat is a space-bound species spread across a thousand colony ships. It surprised Bryan to learn she did not know her mother or father.

Once born, the Cheizat babies were delivered to the community to be raised and educated. Evaluated from birth, they would be directed into a profession where they excelled, regardless of their desire to be that person. There were supposed to be no outcasts, as everyone could do something well, but the happiness of performing that task was not measured as relevant. Aeryn, the soldier, and Seren, the doctor, were products of their talents and abilities and nothing more.

A passion for the profession was not a consideration. The fact that Aeryn and Seren displayed a suppressed compassion that the Cheizat worked to repress eventually led to both being exiled. It suggested to Bryan that they had a flawed social model that prevented the individuals from becoming more than they were as a species.

Perhaps the Interstellar Government meant it to be that way, he pondered silently, unsure of broaching the concept of a repressed species to his shipmates.

“I say we go for it,” Bryan offered, as the two worked to decide if this was the chance they had been waiting for.

“You have an overdeveloped need for immediate gratification,” Aeryn replied as she nodded and slipped into the pilot’s seat.

“You’ve never complained before. Visual system tracking locked on,” Bryan replied with a grin as he joined her in the cockpit.

“You are so full of yourself,” Aeryn replied with a smile of her own.

Once the visual tracker was locked onto a target, the navigation system could follow the vessel's path until the lock was broken due to the targeted ship’s disappearance or the operator's command to cease operation. It was hoped that by following in the leading vessel's wake, Rogue could remain undetected. Once in orbit of their destination, it would be Aeryn’s job to keep the planet between Rogue and the pirates.

“Okay, here we go,” Aeryn announced as she lifted off the asteroid and moved into a trailing position.

----*----

Pirate Planet

Aeryn followed the pirate ship down until they got a good idea of its destination, and then she peeled off before they were in visual range of those below.

“You think we should land in that green zone there?” Bryan asked as he pointed out the cockpit window.

With no scanners or navigation equipment available due to the solar influence, you were out of luck if you couldn’t see it. As best as either of them could tell, the spot Bryan indicated was lush enough to hide their ship from overhead view and didn’t appear occupied. Rudimentary readings for power sources and artificial objects still worked at this close range, and neither indicated a presence.

The plan was to land and scout the area near where the other ship had set down. As they dared not get close enough for an overhead visual, because if they could see it, they could be seen, they only knew its rough location. The soft landing was barely noticeable, and once Aeryn had shut down the ship, Bryan was already slipping out of his seat and headed to the weapons locker.

“Gravity is point eight seven of standard, and the atmosphere is breathable. First task, let’s set up the transponder transmitting beacon, and then we can poke around and see what we can find,” Aeryn ordered curtly.

“YES, MA’AM,” Bryan replied with a smile as he snapped to it, his excitement at exploring a new planet on display.

The single ground-based transponder would be followed up by a secondary device in orbit, once it was confirmed that this was the location they were searching for. Should it prove to be something other than a hideout for the outlaw raiders, the initial device was simply a means to allow them to return should the need arise, but it hardly warranted the redundancy.

While Aeryn was the first officer on Independence, she typically never lorded it over the others. Her historic no-nonsense attitude and stern discipline, all well known to the crew, had softened since Bryan’s arrival, and his typical easy-going attitude had been infectious with the others. Focused and driven when needed, he balanced the former Enforcer’s stern attitudes when they were together as they were now.

While Bryan exited the ship and found the spot for the beacon, Aeryn pulled the combat gear from their lockers and prepared for their trek into the unknown.

“All done, but I didn’t turn it on yet. I figured we would activate it on the way out,” he explained as he started gearing up.

He smiled as he noted Aeryn had placed his long-barreled 5.56 AR out for him to use while she retained the 300 for herself.

“I think I have corrupted you,” he commented as he continued to don the vest and hydration pack he had stowed for such an occasion.

“What was it Cris said, I like the kinetic impact it provides,” she said with a smile of her own.

It was commonly agreed that while blasters and pulse rifles had a hell of a burning effect, the rounds Bryan’s weapons delivered would knock you on your ass. It held a psychological advantage for adversaries not exposed to such, especially when confronting superior numbers, and for this outing, that was sure to be the case.

“I expect we might spend the night away from the ship, maybe even two?” Aeryn asked more than she stated as she sorted through the backpack supplies.

“I agree. I couldn’t get a read on the base size, did you?” he replied.

“No, I had to peel off before entering their view. It could be anything from twenty to two hundred bodies housed there,” she speculated.

“We could try these?” Bryan asked as he pulled a small case out from storage.

The case held four small reconnaissance drones that Bryan had asked Azizi to make for him after the kidnapping and rescue activities. While the units would be useless on Hellsgate, most other places and planets would allow such reconnaissance devices. Round and about the size of a grapefruit, they floated, swiveled, and flew using a tiny antigravity engine that propelled an instrument package supplying location, video, audio, and sensory data back to the operator.

Display gear in the form of sunglasses was something Azizi had never seen before. The typical alternative to the console display for aliens was a holographic projector. Bryan found the technology distracting and awkward in certain situations, as it required the use of headgear. The helmet system used in exposure suits was acceptable, but here they needed no such protection.

“The guidance systems would have to be strictly inertial as they won’t be able to use any external references, and the sensors would be limited to audio and visual,” she commented as she referenced the limitations on the device due to the local conditions.

“The controller has a recall beacon, and I can guide it using the video feed so it will give us a relative position based on our location. As an overwatch, we can send one up while we head to the camp, and it should aid in finding the right path,” Bryan explained as he passed Aeryn a set of glasses.

“I’ll pass, you can play with them on your own,” she replied as she waved off the eyewear.

With that decided, the pair finished gearing up and sealed the ship as they headed into the heavy foliage. Plants the size of trees surrounded the landing area, hiding Rogue from anyone passing overhead. The temperature held a chill for Bryan while Aeryn seemed quite comfortable.

“Typical,” Bryan muttered.

The heavy growth around them made the trip away from their ship slow as they pushed between the plants to make any forward progress. They had a general direction to follow as they worked to backtrack toward the location from which they had split away from the ship they were following down into the atmosphere. Besides the oversized plant life, Bryan was on the lookout for any signs of animals in the area. He had to believe there were critters out there big enough to eat both of them in this environment.

Using the drone to guide them as it flew high overhead, Bryan moved the orb in sweeping motions until he caught a glimpse of something unnatural in the vegetation. The slim tower provided a straight protrusion in a place where nature had no straight lines.

“I think I have something,” he said as he motioned for Aeryn to follow.

Bryan set a course for the object the drone had located. They soon found themselves at the edge of the compound containing the ship they had followed in. The pirate base housed four spaceships of varying sizes and several buildings that resembled colony structures. Likely, the buildings were stolen goods from several raided colony transports that had made their way into the zone and were en route to other worlds.

Zylo had researched the area and discovered that there were regular, unsuccessful attempts to settle colonists on the more prized planets. They would have been claimed as settlements eons ago if they had been anywhere else in the universe. Here, however, they all failed due to the same insurmountable challenge: a lack of consistent location for regular space traffic. No one wanted to live where you couldn’t be found half the time.

As Bryan and Aeryn watched, they tracked the movements of well over one hundred and fifty individuals of various species. In full reconnaissance mode now, Bryan was cataloging everything of strategic value for a comprehensive report upon their return, with the drone recording all it saw from above. Using an image enhancer that worked like binoculars, he zoomed in to get more details.

“Who is that?” he quietly asked Aeryn as he handed her the device and pointed to a woman being abused as she went about an assigned menial task.

He judged her to be in her mid to late forties, and her tattered attire told the tale of many abuses. Currently, she was being pummeled by another younger female of a species Bryan didn’t recognize. The fact that he perceived her as female was based on her attire, rather than her physical resemblance to a humanoid body. He guessed her race to be amphibious, if he could draw a human comparison to a species. Her frog-like face was indiscernible from that of a male or female, but the flashy material of her clothing had a touch of feminine refinement, even if her behavior suggested otherwise.

Watching through the drone video in his glasses, as Aeryn used the image enhancer, he waited for her assessment.

“She’s an Enforcer,” Aeryn replied after examining the scene.

“So, prisoner and slave,” Bryan replied in disgust.

“Most likely captured in a raid on a transport. That’s an officer's uniform, and I don’t see any others like her around. They probably keep her around to beat information out of her and then degrade her for entertainment,” Aeryn explained with equal disgust.

“Enforcer or not, we can’t leave her here,” Bryan stated emphatically, taking back the imager she had offered.

“Agreed. We can decide what to do with her after we escape this planet,” Aeryn confirmed as she reflected on the problems she imagined afterward.

At that point, both dropped into silence as they evaluated the options before them. With upwards of one hundred fifty to two hundred pirates in camp, anything but a quick in and out while avoiding detection was out of the question.

“It's time to see if you were paying attention, as we are going to do some sneaking, I think. We need a distraction to draw the crowd to the far side of the compound,” Bryan finally offered as if an inspiration had struck him.

Still in the early stages of training, Bryan had been instructing her in the fine art of moving through the woods silently and without attracting attention to yourself.

“Okay,” she replied hesitantly.

“Did you see any tether or restraint on the captive?” He asked.

“No, they probably don’t need one. Where are you going to run to here?” Aeryn commented as she pointed around the space.

Bryan had to agree, as far as they knew, the only settlement on the entire planet was in front of them. The rest of the world was wild and uncivilized. Aeryn had never confirmed that the Enforcers provided the kind of survival training similar to that he had received on Earth. When you added the Boy Scouts and family camping trips, he figured he was Independence’s resident outdoor survival expert. Unless, of course, you included the alien environments he had never experienced, for which he was no better prepared than the rest of them.

But then, when you added all the new toys he had collected, this universe provided everything one needed, so how anyone could ever get lost was beyond him. That concept gave him a thought.

“I have an idea. What if we send a drone in, one intended to be discovered and then recalled it? If the pirates follow the drone, we can draw them away from the area, and we can swoop in and rescue her,” Bryan offered.

“That might work, but that means one of us has to be there to hit the recall,” she replied.

“No, we can set a timer on the recall and work our way back before it kicks off. These things are completely programmable,” he reasoned.

“Okay, are you sure they will follow?” Aeryn agreed.

“I will make sure of it. You wait here, I’ll be right back,” Bryan declared and sped off before she could reply.

----*----

Casino

Azizi knew she had agreed to this charade for the benefit of Bryan and the rest, but standing at the airlock for the casino dressed in the bland attire of her people, she was having doubts. With Istu at her side, the pair headed into the security checkpoint with the bravado of a government official irritated at their assignment.

“My, we don’t get many Gazht. What brings you to our station?” the security officer asked politely.

“Please notify your station manager that we are here for a surprise inspection. We have had complaints that your facility is not being maintained safely and securely for a public venue,” Azizi replied sternly while flashing the fake government ID Cris had secured for this effort.

It turned out that getting documents for bureaucrats and maintenance inspectors was far easier than for security personnel, who generally had far greater access.

“We received no word of any inspections,” the man stammered as he waved at another to go get the boss.

“What part of Surprise Inspection did you not understand. If we had notified you in advance, it wouldn’t be a surprise now, would it?” she snapped with an air of superiority she wasn’t feeling.

With Azizi and Istu was a stack of small crates, hovering just behind the two.

“And that, ma’am,” the security man asked as he waited for his superior to appear.

“Equipment I need for my inspection. I can’t very well use your instruments if the integrity of your operation is in question,” she explained.

The man nodded in understanding as her argument had merit.

“I can see this is going to be a disappointing inspection,” Azizi mumbled, just loud enough for the man to cringe.

She knew no one wanted to upset the inspector at the beginning of an assignment.

Chapter 15

Pirate Planet

Aeryn sat quietly, watching the goings on in the compound as she waited for Bryan to return. How the human moved so silently amongst the heavy growth around them fascinated her. At times, she felt he was almost a wild animal, as his instinctual behavior when surrounded by nature, regardless of the planet, was nearly frightening to her.

She had seen him on several alien planets with varying environments, and he still adapted his instincts and knowledge to the surroundings with ease. It was that behavior that inspired her to learn from him.

“Psst,” Bryan offered almost silently, startling Aeryn with his arrival.

“Don’t do that,” she responded as she punched his arm.

“Sorry,” he replied, suppressing a laugh as he realized he had surprised her again without trying.

“Any changes?” he asked as he motioned toward the compound.

“None, the woman of interest is still working over there while everyone else is milling about, minding their own business, and all seem oblivious to our presence. If anyone had seen our approach, I would have expected more activity as they went out to investigate,” she said with a nod.

“Right, good, we have about 5 minutes before the drone lifts off. I programmed it to come in high, drop to a few feet off the deck where it can be seen, and then head off in the opposite direction from us back to the control device at a measured pace to let them follow and keep up,” he explained.

Aeryn envisioned the drone's path and nodded again, mentally confirming that it should do the job.

“At least one of us needs to move down there then, while the other provides cover,” she offered as she pointed to the spot where the foliage was closest to where the prisoner was working.

“You do that and collect our hostage, I am going to make sure they see the drone, and discourage anyone that heads our way,” Bryan replied as he pointed the way for her through the dense growth.

After a quick conversation about timing, she headed to the area Bryan had indicated, shifting her rifle from across her back to keep her hands ready for use. Once the drone appeared, Aeryn was sure the locals would feel free to shoot at anything that moved, and she had learned how to move the plans around her without betraying her presence.

She suspected that Bryan planned to return fire and draw them away from here if it came to that, and he would add to the chaos with his weapon. As she worked through the dense growth, Aeryn was struck by the change in her movements. After the events of E857-C, she had asked Bryan to teach her the ways of his people. It had taken her some time to drive the visions from her head, but eventually she saw the value in the skills it took to overcome the threats and rescue her and the others.

Occasionally, during their downtime, she and Bryan would leave the spaceport and head to the undeveloped portions of Major so he could instruct her in what he called wilderness skills. At first, they seemed unnatural to her, as they represented a mindset that abandoned Enforcer training in favor of the actions of wild beasts.

How she walked, ran, or crawled, where she moved, and her attire changed to blend into the world around her rather than stand out. She found that she had paid little attention to how much noise she made in the past when entering a potential conflict, and he showed her how to be almost entirely silent, like a ghost, he would say. Using his teachings, she slipped through the growth around her, rather than pushing it out of the way, leaving little evidence of her passing, and it seemed to speed her along toward her destination silently.

In this manner, it took very little time for her to reach the edge of the clearing, waiting for the moment when the overseer was distracted by another task. At the right moment, Aeryn tossed a small pebble, which hit her target on the chest. Looking up, Aeryn waved the woman to her vigorously.

“Who are you? You are not an Enforcer,” the woman said as she closed up to Aeryn cautiously.

“Let’s just say I am freelance,” Aeryn answered as she waved the woman closer.

They had decided earlier that Aeryn would talk to the prisoner while Bryan handled cover fire elsewhere. Bryan noted Aeryn spoke Enforcer better than he, and she could use the secret handshake to convince her to cooperate, whatever that was. He seemed always to have some obscure comment that never made any sense, so she went with it as it was a never-ending stream of senseless references.

The woman hesitated at the reply, glancing about as if expecting it to be a trick.

“Look, I’m a friend, let’s get you out of here,” Aeryn replied as she pulled at the woman’s arm.

Just as the two entered the woods, Aeryn saw the drone appear over the camp on the far side. In concert with the unexpected appearance, she heard the report of Bryan’s rifle and saw several of the pirates drop to the ground, spurting whatever their species called blood. The man’s accuracy was unnerving as every shot found a victim, but all in non-lethal hits.

Aeryn had asked him once why he never went for kill shots, and he explained it was better to wound because, if they cared for the injured, the others would work to recover and protect the wounded, tying up more forces that weren’t shooting back.

“What is that?” the woman asked as she followed Aeryn deeper into the foliage.

“He calls it cover fire,” Aeryn answered as they approached the source of the gunfire.

As quickly as it started, the gunshots ceased, and by the time they reached Bryan’s position, they could see the pirates regrouping and beginning to follow the retreating drone. With a nod and a smile, she acknowledged Bryan, and all three moved urgently into the wilderness. Behind them, they could hear the pirates shouting as they followed the drone into the plant life on the far side and away from them. An explosion rocked the area, and the shouting increased with added cries of pain.

“What was that?” Aeryn questioned as they increased their pace.

“Did I forget to tell you the drone has a self-destruct?” Bryan answered with a sheepish grin.

Once again, Bryan led them straight to Rogue, his sense of direction annoyingly accurate.

“Get ready to take off. I need to trigger the beacon,” Bryan said as he peeled away from the two women and headed into the woods.

“This way,” Aeryn shouted to the prisoner they had just freed.

Hitting the cargo ramp remote open, she led the newcomer into the cargo bay.

“Wait here for Bryan while I get the ship ready for takeoff,” she instructed.

The woman nodded in agreement and did as instructed, while Aeryn went straight to the bridge. Hitting the cargo camera, she watched in the monitor as she readied the ship. Her wait wasn’t long as Bryan burst forth from the undergrowth and ascended the ramp, hitting the close button as he entered the space.

“Welcome aboard Rogue,” Aeryn heard Bryan say with a smile as he waved her forward and deeper into the ship.

----*----

Casino

“You are not nearly as much fun as Bryan,” Seren complained as she and her captain checked into the hotel on the space station.

Cris had piloted the shuttle from Independence to the casino space station, first docking at the airlock so Azizi and Istu could disembark separately and then moving on to the shuttle bay where he found a place among the litany of personal craft that serviced the casino patrons. Should anyone notice their joint arrival, Cris had prepared a cover story that the government officials had booked passage with him to expedite their arrival. He needn’t have bothered, as no one seemed to care.

“That’s because I am only half human,” Cris replied somberly to Seren’s complaint.

“But just as sarcastic,” Seren responded.

The plan was for Cris and Seren to repeat the performance Bryan and Seren had acted out earlier. They were a well-to-do couple relaxing on the station, and as it was not out of the ordinary, it allowed them to blend in with most of the station visitors. For this outing, however, they were to avoid meeting Rygon at all costs as Cris had seen the man face to face. Also, Seren did not feel the inspiration from which her previous performance benefited, as her romantic interest in the captain was completely nonexistent.

Entering their room and changing for their mission, both dressed in attire that was more subdued and that allowed them to hide small items in its folds. As before, the special luggage the pair had in tow concealed an assortment of nondescript items that, while benign to the scanners, packed a punch when properly motivated.

“Let’s get in and out as quickly as we can. I am worried Azizi might need a hand, and Istu is not the most sensitive companion,” Cris relayed as he opened the luggage and extracted several items for himself.

Seren had to agree that Azizi had the most dangerous assignment as she needed to bluff her way into several parts of the station that only a few had access to. Added to that burden, she was forced into a role she had shed cycles ago and vowed never to return to.

“Lead the way, boss,” Seren declared as she placed similar items into hidden pockets in her fashionable jacket.

----*----

Rogue

Aeryn piloted the ship off the pirate planet and followed the reverse course that had led them to the small world. Bryan had launched the second beacon after leaving the atmosphere and then sat glued to the viewer, looking for any signs of pursuit, but none rose from the surface to chase the small craft.

“Am I to know the names of my rescuers?” the woman asked as she watched the pair operate the ship that was her escape craft.

“Apologies, we were somewhat distracted,” Aeryn replied, not looking away from her controls.

“I am Aeryn and this is Bryan,” she continued without expanding on the subject.

Bryan noted that Aeryn was keeping things close to her chest and suspected the enforcer they had rescued needed to know very little about them or their ship if they could help it.

“I am Wyndom, colonel of Enforcers,” the woman replied with pride.

It was Bryan’s understanding that Enforcer officers did not go afield into combat or conflicts of a nonverbal nature, especially senior officers, so Wyndom must have been snatched unexpectedly.

“You are both Cheizat enforcers? Your combat skills betray your background,” she continued.

“Yes, we are currently unassigned and enjoying a little off time freelancing for the government,” Aeryn explained in an almost truthful statement.

Wyndom was eyeing both Aeryn and Bryan, her gaze lingering on him more than her. She wasn’t romantically looking at him. He thought it was more like appraising a prize bull or a racehorse for its performance qualities before making a purchase. Bryan was large for a Cheizat, which was a known issue, but it often led to him being mistaken for a special ops enforcer instead of a line recruit. That was something they tried to emphasize when it was to their benefit.

“How did you get caught by the pirates?” Bryan asked as he tried to redirect the conversation.

Breaking the trance the woman appeared to be in, she visibly shook her head before answering.

“I was traveling for a meeting in the uncharted zone. A colony there requested the establishment of a permanent Enforcer base to address the constant threat, and I was tasked with evaluating the location. As you are well aware, there are many raids in the sector,” she explained.

“Jumped your ship, huh?” Bryan asked openly.

“Just so, as you say. They came out of nowhere, and before the ship's captain could make a run for it, we were snared in a tractor beam. Once boarded, I was separated from the passengers and crew as soon as they saw my uniform. After the pilfering was complete, the vessel was released, but I was held back and have been their captive ever since,” she finished.

“When did this happen?” Aeryn asked

Wyndom checked the display on the pilot’s console before releasing a deep sigh.

“Almost two lens ago. I had no idea it had been so long,” she answered, surprised at the length of her captivity.

Bryan was impressed that the woman had endured almost two months of constant abuse and still appeared unfazed by the experience.

“How is it you came to my aid? That planet is in the most chaotic part of the uncharted zone, so you were not there by chance,” the enforcer colonel asked, redirecting the conversation back to the pair.

“As luck would have it, we are on a government contract looking to find those same pirates,” Aeryn replied.

By now, Rogue had reached the asteroids that marked their starting point. Bryan could see Aeryn visibly relax as she pointed the ship toward home.

“I imagine your instructions had no such references regarding my rescue?” Wyndom pressed.

“No, you were neither named nor were there any direct references to hostages or captives,” Aeryn answered in a way that left her an out, should she get pressed on the subject.

“We were just winging it,” Bryan added, the term drawing a confused look from Wyndom.

“He means we couldn’t leave you behind once we identified a captive was in play and got creative in your rescue,” Aeryn clarified while passing Bryan a dirty look.

Bryan knew Enforcer tactics would suggest they leave the colonel behind, only to return with a larger force. The fact that the pair took on an entire pirate hideout was an unusual approach.

“Well, I thank you for your creativity. I can see you are both military, but your methods are unusual and unorthodox, and not standard Enforce procedure,” the colonel commented.

“If it works, it’s not wrong,” Bryan asserted.

“We are part of a special unconventional warfare unit,” Aeryn asserted by way of explanation, walking over Bryan’s reply.

Bryan could see that she wanted him to shut up before Wyndom became overly suspicious. Both could see that the woman was not entirely convinced by their story.

“That is true, I can’t fault your execution,” Wyndom nodded.

----*----

Rogue

Bryan took over the pilot’s seat while Aeryn escorted Wyndom to her cabin to clean up. Aeryn also supplied a change of clothes, as the colonel was a little smaller in height and build than she was, and what remained of her uniform was in tatters.

“Well, that part was awkward,” Aeryn proclaimed after closing the hatch between the bridge and the rest of the ship.

“Which part? I found the entire conversation uncomfortable,” he replied as he pointed to the navigator station for Aeryn to sit, not ready to give up his seat as pilot.

Usually, she might have challenged him for the pilot’s seat, but he could tell her stress levels were high, and the pause was welcome.

“At least now we know why we were sent to beat the bushes in the uncharted zone,” Bryan added.

“I agree, Wyndom is more important than she lets on. She is important enough to somebody for them to spend the last two lens and a lot of coins searching for her. This may cause us some difficulty, you know, as I expect they will want to debrief us directly, rather than accepting a written report from the broker now,” Aeryn explained.

Bryan knew a len was roughly a month, so they had been looking for a while. Since the translation wasn’t exact, his translator let the terminology stand rather than converting it to months, weeks, and days. It was one of the subtle settings he and Kylo had worked up. General comments were left alone, but specific references got the entire translation. It was intended to allow Bryan the ability to absorb the language without risking inaccuracies when it mattered.

The debrief comment was the most disturbing issue, as he imagined it required them to appear in person at the Enforcer facilities, which biometrically scanned all those who entered. There was no way he and Aeryn would pass undetected.

“Maybe we could just drop her off somewhere beforehand? Say we need to be someplace,” Bryan suggested.

“No go, we are on record for the job, and they will just chase us down. We need a reason she will agree with, to let us avoid the scrutiny,” Aeryn countered.

“I’ve said it before, no good deed goes unpunished,” Bryan repeated in frustration.

----*----

Cassino space station

Azizi and Istu took on their roles as government inspectors with enthusiasm as soon as the station manager reviewed and accepted their fake credentials. It wasn’t a massive leap of faith for the man, as who in their right mind would pretend to be a maintenance inspector seeking to wander into the bowels of the station where nothing valuable lay hidden.

Water, sewage, and atmospheric systems were not on anyone's list of top destinations to visit in space, and the areas they were housed in were difficult to access and unappealing in terms of sight and smell. A maintenance chief was assigned to escort them into the bowels of the station, and Istu’s role was to distract the man while Azizi planted the devices hidden in the tool and instrument cases. She and Bryan had found the best places to deposit their little surprise packages from the plans they had acquired for the space station.

As such, each was crafted to resemble components expected for such a place and not stand out as unusual or misplaced. Fake junction boxes and switch panels were attached to surfaces adjacent to the conduits and ducting. On several occasions, Azizi had to pause as the escort stopped talking to Istu to watch her activities.

Doing her best to suppress her nerves, she would stop and stare at the diagrams she carried as if to validate that all was accurate and correctly installed. Once Istu had the man’s attention again, she would continue planting the next device. Junction boxes, switch panels, and transfer valves all appeared real enough until you looked closely enough to see that they were not connected to anything adjacent.

That made the placement so important, as they were to be located next to similar systems, making them just one of many in that location. Should anyone attempt to use one, it would operate as expected but perform no function beyond its appearance. No one wanted an accidental activation just because a well-meaning service tech was poking the wrong button.

“I think we are about finished here,” Azizi declared as the last of the items was positioned near a power junction.

Her work completed in record time, both Istu and Azizi presented the maintenance chief with a fake inspection certificate and praised him for the station's condition. Excusing themselves, they calmly headed back toward the docking terminal, where they planned to meet the others.

----*----

Rogue

Wyndom appeared on the bridge clean and refreshed, having taken a shower and changed into a fresh set of civilian clothes. The garments Aeryn provided were only slightly overlarge but presentable nonetheless. In Bryan’s experience, clothing sold in the alien shops stretched out for several sizes, but it didn’t shrink much if purchased too large. He knew Aeryn bought one size smaller than she needed to enhance the tailored appearance she favored, as it clung tightly to her well-toned frame.

“I am sorry, we are poor hosts. Would you care for a meal?” Aeryn offered as the woman sat in the engineer’s seat behind the navigator.

By now, Aeryn had taken the pilot’s seat back, leaving Bryan free to rest and relax in the rear had he chosen to do so. The fact that he remained at Aeryn’s side suggested he wished to avoid finding himself with Wyndom alone. That was a good idea in Aeryn’s mind, as Bryan tended to say whatever was on his mind without consideration of the audience.

“I could use a bite to eat,” the colonel replied with a smile.

“Sit tight, I will be right back,” Bryan announced as he slipped out of his seat and headed to the galley.

Azizi’s refit of the little runabout had provided a rework of the cockpit, expanding the bridge space with engineering components and functions behind the pilot and navigator’s seats. Panels for the fuel rods and reactors lined both sides, and racks holding interchangeable instrument packages for various missions.

The hatch separated the bridge from the common area, which featured two cabins on the starboard side, each accommodating two crew members, and a galley on the port side, with an open common area located centrally in the space between. Another hatch with an airlock led into a small cargo hold at the rear. It was large enough to hold Bryan’s Jeep and a significant number of storage crates, should the need arise. A second airlock was located on one side of the cargo hold, allowing the small ship to dock, although it was rarely used.

Aeryn was pleased that Bryan had asked the colonel to remain on the bridge as she worried about what he might say to the woman unsupervised. His sarcasm and lack of boundaries could easily jeopardize them should the enforcer officer become more suspicious than she already was. As it was, Aeryn was still struggling to find a way out of a government debrief upon their return to Pantera Major.

“Here, try this,” Bryan offered as he placed a tray in the colonel’s lap.

Aeryn winced when he returned to the bridge. She could tell from the smell that it was one of his human concoctions, and while very tasty, it was sure to raise questions with the woman.

“This is marvelous,” she commented after the first spoonful from the bowl.

“Thanks,” Bryan replied while glancing at Aeryn.

She knew her look conveyed disapproval, but she dared not say a word lest she invite more conversation on the subject. While it was common knowledge among the crew that Bryan’s dishes were based on human mixtures, that was not a conversation to be had in present company.

“I must say, I have never had a dish like this, and I am well-traveled. Where is it from?” the enforcer asked as she continued to eat.

“The inspiration is from my youth, but I can honestly say the ingredients are exclusively my own,” Bryan replied with a wry smile at Aeryn.

Aeryn recalled the trials Bryan went through with Seren at his side, working to replicate Earth cuisine using the available ingredients. She had to give him credit as he worked tirelessly to provide tasty meals for the entire crew, not just a select few.

“What do you call it?” she asked as she finished the bowl and passed him the tray.

“Chili,” Bryan proclaimed.

“What an odd name,” Wyndom replied.

“Indeed,” Aeryn confirmed with a nod and a frown.

Chapter 16

Casino Space Station

Reaching up to kiss the taller man on the cheek, Seren made an exaggerated show of the act of affection for those standing nearby.

“That’s the last one,” the doctor whispered in his ear as the pair left the gambling floor of the main casino.

While Azizi and Istu worked their way through the maintenance rooms and corridors in the station's bowels, Cris and Seren toured the public spaces, doing their own seeding of devices intended to dissuade Rygon from ever bothering the Independence crew again. Unlike those planted by Azizi, these were smaller and easier to conceal. Seren had no idea what they did, only that these items were explicitly intended to convince Rygon he was at risk everywhere in his domain.

“I hope this works,” Cris muttered as they slowly returned to their hotel room.

“Bryan seems confident it will,” Seren offered in defense.

“Bryan seems confident about everything he does,” Cris replied with a scoff.

Seren knew Cris had nothing but respect for the human, but there was an edge of annoyance in the tone.

“That’s what I find so appealing about him,” Seren muttered back wistfully.

“I am concerned that it is born of bravado and ignorance and not just capability,” Cris lamented while smiling at the kiss as they strolled.

“Oh, I don’t know. Unlike the rest of us, he has never been told that what he does is impossible. For him, it’s more about delivering for the ship and crew and less concerning his ego and proving the universe wrong,” Seren analyzed.

“I worry that it's just dumb luck,” Cris responded, but with a smile.

----*----

Rogue

The time available to them was diminishing by the hour, and neither Bryan nor Aeryn had figured out how to avoid the scanning portal upon their return that would reveal Aeryn’s outlaw status and Bryan’s human identity. Short of pushing Wyndom out an airlock before their arrival, neither could determine a way to avoid the unavoidable.

“I am sorry if I am indiscreet, but can I ask about your appearance? I mean, isn’t it unusual for a person of your rank not to take advantage of the MRT regularly?” Bryan offered, as Aeryn displayed a look of sheer horror.

“You are a sergeant?” Wyndom queried.

“Senior sergeants in the special operations unit, both of us,” Aeryn blurted before Bryan could say anything.

Aeryn knew Bryan had been a captain in the Earth military and wanted to intercede before his automated response unmasked them.

“Yes, I can see why you might ask such a thing in your position. For you, peak physical conditioning and youthful endurance are critical to your survival,” Wyndom confirmed.

Both Bryan and Aeryn nodded silently at the observation. Considering their adventures of late, one didn’t need to be an Enforcer to require the requisite traits to survive.

“For me, the additional ten or so cycles portray an image of wisdom and experience that other races value in negotiations. Many species are immune to the MRT's magic and age appropriately. For that reason, I present myself in a form they will accept as genuine,” she offered.

“I can assure you that beneath this façade, I am as healthy and energetic as I was in my youth,” she affirmed.

“Of that we have no doubt,” Aeryn replied while giving Bryan the shut-up look.

“On that subject, you say you are senior sergeants doing a little freelancing? While your story is plausible, some aspects of your tale leave me in doubt,” Wyndom said with a scant eye on them both.

Aeryn looked at Bryan with a stern glare that projected a warning not to speak. She took a deep breath and began to weave the reply she had been trying to form since rescuing the Enforcer officer.

“As you know, this area has been a constant thorn in the Enforcer’s side. We are on a special operation to identify as many hidden camps and spaceport hideouts as possible that the outlaw groups use. This small ship and our identities have been scrubbed from the records, allowing us to move freely without triggering scanner alerts and alarms. Should one discover our presence, we would declare ourselves as outlaws or outsiders to their records,” Aeryn explained.

“For that reason, we can’t take you straight to an Enforcer ship as we would be declared outlaws, our cover would be exposed, and we would have to terminate our mission far earlier than intended. There has been a lot of work put into getting us in this position, and we would hate to see it evaporate needlessly,” Aeryn explained while watching Bryan.

She telegraphed every known expression she knew to prevent him from saying anything that contradicted her tale. These clandestine missions were standard for the Special Ops units, and the uncharted zone would be the expected location to run across such a team.

“I see,” Wyndom replied as she considered Aeryn’s explanation.

There was a long silence as all three sat in thought.

“I suppose you could leave me planet side somewhere close to an Enforcer facility, and you can be away before I report in,” she offered.

“That is contrary to protocol,” Aeryn commented with a tone that approved the proposal.

“Only a little. You saved my life, so I can bend the rules a little in return. I will say you intercepted me after my escape, my ship was damaged in the attempt, and delivered me unharmed to wherever we decide,” she said with a smile.

Aeryn felt a wave of relief as she nodded in agreement.

“I knew I should have taken that other assignment, but this one sounded so much more interesting. Live and learn,” Wyndom commented absently.

“What other assignment?” Bryan asked in interest.

“Oh, it was an investigation on a backwater world near the rim, dead enforcers, and all that. A while back, a payroll robbery went badly, there was a wreck, and the natives secreted away the proceeds after a crash landing before they could be recovered. We have been trying to get it back for gigacycles without upsetting the primitives that live there and find out how the more recent security team died,” she replied casually.

“Sounds boring,” Bryan offered.

“After my current experience, boring is an appealing option,” Wyndom smiled.

The information left Aeryn with a horrible feeling, as she plotted a course to the nearest Enforcer-occupied planet with the smallest facility.

----*----

Independence

“Am I glad to be home, I’m beat,” Aeryn declared as she and Bryan exited Rogue to meet with the welcoming party of one that entered the shuttle bay.

“Things went well?” Cris asked as he greeted the pair.

“Successful is a better description,” Bryan offered as the three exited the bay and headed to the crew lounge.

“It must have been better than that. The broker has already contacted me, and full payment is in transit, which never happens. Additionally, a rescue bonus was attached as well,” Cris commented.

“Wyndom,” was all Bryan said as Aeryn nodded.

“What’s a Wyndom?” Seren asked as she joined the party.

As the group sat in the galley, Aeryn began relaying the tale of their adventures on the pirate planet. More of the crew entered and listened to the story as she worked through the details of the trip. She had no sooner touched on the journey toward the pirate stronghold when Kylo appeared in the doorway.

“You and Zaim were right, the pirates were right where you thought they would be,” she said during a pause as Kylo entered the room.

“Takes one to know one, I guess,” Bryan teased.

Aeryn continued her story uninterrupted until the end, but Bryan could see Cris was bursting to ask about the Enforcer Colonel.

“So she just walked away?” he asked when Aeryn described dropping Wyndom off.

“As promised. We provided her with the data we collected and the transponder codes for the transmitters we had left behind. She seemed content to allow us to leave unmolested,” Aeryn replied.

“Most unusual,” Seren commented with a note of concern.

The room fell silent as everyone digested the results of their mission.

“Well, we were busy as well while you were gone. Bryan, all your packages have been delivered, and the message to Rygon has been left as we discussed. Even Azizi rose to the occasion,” he offered in praise.

“We are ready to go when you are,” Seren added.

“Maybe tomorrow, I need some sleep,” Bryan complained as Aeryn supported the suggestion.

----*----

Casino

Rygon had been intrigued by the message left for him in one of the hotel rooms. A supposed guest had left a holograph recording, and the face on the screen was the same as the man he had encountered on the hostage exchange, where he lost his hand. He had expected the man and his crew to have left the sector after his botched kidnapping attempt and costly rescue, but apparently, they were still around.

The recording outlined a proposal to satisfy all parties involved in the current dispute. No details were provided, only the assurance that safe passage would be provided for a single negotiator at a time of their choosing. The fact that they agreed to meet in the casino was all Rygon needed to agree to the terms. Once anyone boarded his station, their lives were in his hands.

The man sitting across from him now was not the same man he had seen in the message. This man was big for a Cheizat and had an air about him that bordered on arrogant. The fact that they had agreed to meet on the space station had been a surprise, as it gave Rygon a considerable advantage. No one came or left this station without his permission, and if this man weren’t careful, he would find his departure via an airlock without a ship on the other side.

----*----

Casino Gold dining room

Bryan was sitting at the special table in the Gold Room, the one where he had seen Rygon for the first time, not in his rifle scope, when he and Seren came to scout the location. That effort was intended to determine the viability of catching the alien mob boss off guard, with an attack on his home turf, but it was a disappointment. Still, the investigation had convinced Bryan there was another way to achieve their goals without putting the crew at risk.

For this meeting, Bryan had come alone, much to the frustration of the others. Even Cris objected to the suggestion as sending someone besides himself into obvious danger went against his very being. In the end, Bryan had won the argument, pointing out that the loss of two crewmembers instead of one brought no one any value.

It was Bryan’s opinion that it was his plan, and the success or failure of the attempt should be on his shoulders alone. His one concession was that he would record the meeting for the others' benefit should he make it out alive.

“I must say I am surprised to see you here, alone and unarmed,” Rygon began as he sat across from Bryan.

The comment was somewhat ingenious, as no weapons were allowed at the station, and even his beloved Ka-Bar had been turned away at the port of entry.

“Keep it handy, I won’t be here long,” Bryan had instructed the security officer before entering the station.

“It really shouldn’t be too surprising, as we have been thwarting your every effort since your miscalculation on the moon,” Bryan poked.

“Even then, you came in numbers, no lone hero,” Rygon countered.

“I'm no hero, just a Marine,” Bryan countered,

As expected, Rygon did not understand the reference. His facial expression inspired Bryan to expand on the statement.

“Marines fight in defense of others,” Bryan expanded.

“Ah, a mercenary,” he replied as if that explained everything that had transpired.

“No, far from it, we don’t fight for pay, we do it for principle. For example, why are you waging this little war of yours?” Bryan pressed.

“You could say it was for honor, but you and I both know I have none. I press this for power, punishment, and pride. I can't have my people thinking I let an outsider get one up on me. Also, I am the punisher, not the punished,” he explained while waving the stump around as a prop.

“You overstepped and got called out for it. Had you just taken your payment and gone your merry way, we wouldn’t be here, and you would have two good hands,” Bryan countered.

“Enough of this, I was told you were here to make amends,” Rygon snapped, tired of being scolded.

“I’m not here to pay you tribute, I am here to offer you your casino back,” Bryan explained.

“You think you have my casino?” he blurted, then laughed.

Slowly reaching into a jacket pocket, Bryan produced a small, flat device, typical of the alien communicators found throughout the station. Bryan laughed when he first saw one, as it reminded him of the smartphones everyone used on Earth. This model had screen and holographic displays that were synced to the translator behind his ear.

Laying the device on the table, he produced a folded paper that he opened and laid next to the device. All the time, Rygon watched him impatiently.

“I wouldn’t want to get this wrong,” Bryan commented as he scanned the paper looking for something specific.

As he had written the words on the page, it was all in English and undiscernible to the aliens around him. It wouldn’t have mattered if Rygon could read the text, as it was a column of letters followed by numbers and was only decipherable by Bryan due to the cryptic abbreviations the letters represented.

“Ah, yes, this is a good one,” he declared before punching a four-digit code into the communicator.

Suddenly, an alarm went off in the casino dining room, and several staff scrambled out the door.

“What is happening?” Rygon asked as he waved one of the waiting guards toward him.

It took several seconds for the woman to reply. Bryan expected that somewhere outside this room, another guard was transmitting information to her as events unfolded.

“Smoke in the main gambling floor. It’s nothing,” the guard responded before returning to her place.

“Let’s try this,” Bryan announced, not allowing Rygon time to regain his composure,

Tapping in a second string of numbers, a popping came from the open door behind the bar. Suddenly, the staff came streaming out, coughing and spurting, complaining of a noxious vapor. Bryan knew Azizi and Seren had devised an alien version of a teargas stink bomb; one intended to offend, not debilitate.

“Shall I do another?” Bryan stated more than asked.

“Stop! What have you done?” Rygon bellowed as he stood towering over the seated Bryan.

“Taken a hostage, what you love most,” Bryan replied sternly.

“I could have you killed here and now,” Rygon responded angrily.

“Do that and this entire station is orbiting debris, and you with it,” Bryan countered calmly.

Rygon paused, considering Bryan’s claim before taking his seat once more.

“Let me explain. We have planted explosives throughout this station. I just triggered a few less destructive charges to demonstrate our claims in a way that wasn’t lethal but confirmed the boast. This sheet represents most, but not all, of what lies hidden within these walls. What I have triggered does no damage; they were intended to convince you this is no hoax. Play nice from now on, and all is well, but if you continue this war to avenge your lost extremity, you will lose far more than a hand,” Bryan asserted.

Bryan could only suspect the expression on the alien’s face was one of rage and frustration, but he sat in silence.

“Here’s the deal. You leave us alone, and we will do the same. I am told they can give you a new hand to replace the one you lost, better than new in truth,” Bryan offered.

Bryan saw the alien’s eyes dart to the stump at the end of one arm and recalled the shot he made to deliver the punishment requested by Cris. The conversation replayed in his head as he remembered that it was Rygon who had wanted to dispense ill-considered justice for the delayed repayment of debts.

“How do I know you will stick to the agreement?” Rygon replied, giving Bryan a steely look.

“Mutually assured destruction,” Bryan replied confidently.

“Excuse me?” the alien responded in confusion.

“If you continue to attack us, we will destroy this station and all within. Your livelihood will be taken from you, along with all that you value. If we blast this place out of space and you survive, then it will become your life’s pursuit to chase us to the rim and back to take our lives in payment,” Bryan explained.

“Bleak alternatives,” Rygon proclaimed.

“It’s just that. You leave us alone, permitting the ship and crew to do our own thing, and we ignore your presence here and elsewhere you operate. We will never darken your doorstep, and you deny our existence. It’s a return to the past before we ever met,” Bryan finished.

Rygon sat silently before nodding in agreement.

“Understand, it is now in your best interest to see that no harm comes to our ship and crew. You have no assurances that we haven’t set charges for delays to take effect if we are not there to prevent them. Unlike you, we have acted honorably, trust that it will continue to be so,” Bryan finished, gathering the paper and touchpad and leaving the Gold room for the last time.

Chapter 17

Independence

Bryan was in his cabin when a tone sounded, telling him someone was waiting outside. With the revenge business over, Rygon and his vendetta settled, he had hoped to use the downtime between jobs to learn to read the intergalactic standard language. Both Seren and Aeryn had offered to tutor him, but they agreed he needed to progress beyond the kindergarten level and work toward middle school before they could be of much help.

The grade levels were of his own assessment, as the alien education system did not have such a structure. Their approach was to allow each student to progress at their own pace, with those who learned quickly moving ahead of those who did not. Age wasn’t a factor in their organization; it was all test-based results, and both Aeryn and Seren had excelled, graduating well ahead of their peers.

Bryan wondered if that was, at least in part, a reason both had run afoul of the governmental restrictions. Both were big thinkers in different fields, and he could see how a repressive environment would challenge the independent nature of both women.

“Open,” he said aloud to permit whomever it was waiting on the other side to gain access to his meager domain.

“May I come in?” Cris asked, waiting for the gesture that he took to mean yes.

“Have a seat,” Bryan offered as he sat on his bunk, leaving the only open seat available.

“Something has come up and I wanted to talk to you before we took action,” Cris began.

“Okay, am I in trouble?” Bryan asked, unsure of what he could have done that would inspire reproach.

“No, it’s nothing like that, everyone on board is delighted with the results of your containment of Rygon, even Zaim commented on its unique approach, although he still thinks you are insane and is skeptical it will hold,” Cris laughed.

“I would be shocked were it something else,” Bryan laughed.

Bryan was sure that meant the insult Zaim voiced was more of a backhanded compliment.

“Do you recall a certain Enforcer Colonel that you rescued in the uncharted zone?” Cris began.

“Wyndom, yes. We dropped her off with our report, and she ensured that we got paid. We did get paid?” Bryan questioned.

“Oh yes, with a bonus for the rescue. I am told that the beacon you left behind was quite helpful to the Enforcers as they tracked down the pirates. I just haven’t had the time to disperse the payment,” Cris replied.

“Okay, so what about her?” Bryan pressed, unconcerned about the funds.

As Istu had declared many times, the Independence crew had been doing quite well since his arrival, and Bryan had a significant sum in his safe, even with all he had spent defeating Rygon. The delay in payment represented the casual attitude the crew had developed in the recent months. No one questioned Cris’s honesty, but in lean times, money delayed was anxiously awaited. Bryan had forgotten entirely about the funds due him, as the Rygon situation was still unresolved until now.

“In conversation with the Enforcer colonel during your return, Aeryn learned an item of concern,” Cris began slowly.

“Before her capture, it seems our colonel had an option of participating in activities that could involve you or the ship,” Cris expanded without saying much in Bryan’s opinion.

“What activities?” Bryan pressed.

“We don’t know any details for sure, but we do know the Enforcers are sending a team to Earth to investigate something disturbing. It had to do with humans and dead enforcers. Considering our history there, we thought it might be best if we returned as well to be able to intervein should things get personal,” Cris responded.

Bryan considered the information as Cris let him absorb the implications. He had no clue how they expected to derail a government investigation, but if Cris and the others were concerned enough to try, then he had to respect their experience in such matters.

“I’m game,” Bryan finally replied.

“You do understand if we decide to land, you can’t contact anyone you left behind,” Cris added.

“I look thirty-plus years younger. I am not sure anyone would recognize me if we did run into them,” Bryan countered honestly.

“Maybe, but you can’t go seek them out regardless. Your past is dead and should remain that way. If we do anything that leads the Enforcer investigators to E857-C, your friends and family will have grave consequences. That’s why we want to see what they are up to,” Cris affirmed.

“How is Aeryn handling all this?” Bryan asked suddenly, recalling her general attitude on the subject.

“Surprisingly well, all things considered. She is not happy about being around more humans, but accepts she is protecting your plausible deniability. None of us wants a connection to be established between you and the demon of E857-C.”

----*----

Independence

The decision made, the Independence departed Pantera Major and headed to the other side of the universe once more, where the small blue planet of Bryan’s birth sat isolated from the rest of the civilized universe. As before, the voyage was long and monotonous, so the crew tried to stay busy with any available maintenance tasks.

“You always seem to be working on this thing. What are you doing now?” Aeryn asked as she caught Bryan messing with his Jeep in the shuttle bay.

“We may need this if we go into any cities or towns once we are on Earth. All vehicles need license plates to operate on the streets, especially in the United States. I stripped mine off when Azizi and I did the upgrade, so now I need to put it back. Thank god I always pay my fees in advance, so they are still good,” he explained.

“Won't people notice that it’s not as noisy as before?” she asked, referring to the removal of the internal combustion engine.

“Maybe at first, but electric cars are not so rare these days. I’ll tell the truth and say I refitted it,” he replied.

“I’m sorry about the need to return to Earth, it is not standard practice for them to poking around on primitive planets so I never considered the risk. I think someone may have been trying to identify you, despite their orders to disregard the source of the information we provided. Wyndom assured me she would hold our confidence, but she did seem fascinated by you,” Aeryn explained.

“Not your fault, but I will say that rescue seems to be the gift that keeps on giving,” he commented.

“Cris thinks that the dead enforcers on the moon are not the driver for the investigation. More likely, it's something that happened much earlier that brought them there. The enforcer's deaths motivate them to poke around wherever they want, so it could all be an excuse to flaunt their authority,” she disclosed.

“Yeah, that’s what worries me. They have a real bug up their butt on that one and are likely to bend the rules some on Earth looking for me, without knowing who I am,” he replied somberly.

“Understand, it’s a stretch that they have tied E857-C to the deaths on the moon. We are only taking precautions,” Aeryn offered.

Bryan just nodded in silence as he watched her walk away. He had this nagging feeling that something else was happening here, and the crew of Independence wanted him to believe this trip was for his benefit. It made no sense to him that E857-C, the three dead enforcers on the moon, and Wyndom’s rescue were tied to the same investigation. It was like they were throwing everything against the wall to see what would stick, and they all had his name on them.

If his gut was right, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the truth, as it meant they worried he would oppose their wishes to return home. That was something he couldn’t currently imagine.

----*----

Dark side of the Earth’s Moon

“All right, what’s the plan?” Bryan asked after the crew had gathered in the galley.

It had been a long and tedious journey to reach this destination, and Bryan had spent most of the time studying. He could now understand the basics of the Interstellar Standard Language, but anything more than See Sally Run, Run Sally Run was out of the question.

During the voyage, his concerns regarding the motivations for the trip were compounded as all three females avoided spending any private time with him outside the common areas. He suspected a fear of disclosing the real intent of the trip during pillow talk. Until they were ready to divulge the entire story, Bryan silently waited for the other shoe to drop.

“It is standard Enforcer procedure for investigators to mingle with any population they can infiltrate anonymously, as Cris’s dad did long ago,” Aeryn began.

Bryan winced at the reference as he had not disclosed to anyone the exact number of years that had passed since that time. In the 18th century, there would have been little to no suspicion that a Cheizat was among them, whereas 21st-century humans might be more likely to embrace the concept with sufficient proof. That would do little to help the Enforcers in their quest to locate the specific human they were searching for. It might become a significant distraction to their mission if they were discovered.

“We need to locate a place to work from on Earth, somewhere out of the way,” Cris offered.

“How do we know where the Enforcers are?” Bryan asked aloud.

“We have a good idea that they will start in the desert where we first met you. It's popular for off-worlders to hide there, due to its isolation, and we believe the reason for their visit is to be close by,” Cris offered without further explanation.

Something about this conversation was off in Bryan’s opinion. They all seemed so sure where the Enforcers would be, but none of the reasons rang true to him. Dropping the issue for now, he moved on to the topic of the conversation.

“It might be best to start at my house, then. We can shuttle in at night and use it as a base of operations,” he offered.

“What if someone stops by unannounced?” Cris questioned as he considered the generous offer.

“I will tell them that I am Bryan Norton’s nephew. They can’t question the family resemblance, and the thirty-plus years difference will be explained immediately. I’m sure our resident forger can create an ID for me to support the story. Simply put, I will say my uncle said I could use his place in his absence,” Bryan replied with a smile.

Bryan had unknowingly set himself up long ago to be absent for extended periods without planning for such. The property had been paid off years earlier, and the taxes, utility bills, and service charges were automatically deducted from his bank account. His pension and investment annuities were deposited directly into the same account and were far greater credits than the bills withdrawn against the balance.

He had a cleaning lady scheduled to come once a month, and as he was situated on several acres of arid land, his neighbors were distant and kept to themselves. The desert around him cared for itself as he had no grass to mow or hedges to trim. Stone, dirt, and cactus were his garden products.

“Sounds logical, we can even mine more ore for the star drive while we are there. Might as well make some money while we are here,” Aeryn offered in support.

“Great idea, we made quite a bit off that last haul,” Istu commented.

“I’ll get the mining drone ready,” Azizi replied.

Bryan recollected that they already had enough fuel rods to last three or four years, but he suspected the crew was ever the opportunist, and the raw ore would be very valuable to others. He replayed the last time, and it triggered a memory of the crew's limits in the typically hot desert.

“Who goes down with me?” Bryan asked, referring to the landing party.

“Well, only Aeryn, Seren, and I can pull off impersonating a human at first glance. Maybe Azizi can in a pinch, but Istu, Kylo, and Zaim would stand out in any crowd,” Cris reasoned.

Bryan thought Istu might be able to go down if they were playing professional basketball, but the alien was so close to seven feet that he would attract attention in any other venue. Azizi could color shift her body and dye her hair, but he doubted she would enjoy the suppressive outing. Hiding her true nature was not enjoyable to her, and meeting the pizza delivery guy at the door naked suggests a particular kind of problem.

“What about the heat?” Aeryn asked with a look of concern.

Bryan recalled the day he met the captain and crew of Independence, and as it was mid-August, the desert was blazing hot at that time of year. That issue had sealed the need for him to escape the planet with the Bounty Hunter’s guild in hot pursuit. From there, the hole only deepened with the three dead Enforcers on the moon, the supposed reason they were here now.

Checking the local time and date for Earth, Bryan had to laugh. Given everything that had happened in his life, he had only been away for about six months. He longed for warmth for a change of pace with all the cold planets they had been visiting, but it was not to be.

“You are in luck. It's January, and the desert weather is cold as hell, so you all will be right at home,” he declared as even his home planet was catering to the alien’s comfort zone.

----*----

Bryan’s house, Earth

Zaim shuttled Cris, Bryan, Aeryn, and Seren to Earth in the middle of the night so the landing would be invisible to prying eyes under the cover of darkness. The remote location, combined with a moonless night, allowed them to set down next to the house Bryan called home and offload the Jeep and other supplies well before first light.

Years after buying the home, Bryan had swapped out the locks on the front door and garage to PIN pads, so a quick five digits later, and they had access to the three bedrooms, two baths housed in a territorial styled structure. With an extended front porch and a massive four-car garage and shop, the place had provided him with everything a hobby-focused bachelor could hope for after he retired.

Opening one of the garage doors, he hit the lights, and the space lit up around them.

“I think Azizi would love this place,” Cris commented as he took note of all the items Bryan had inside the shop area.

Bryan gazed around nostalgically as he saw his quad-cab truck and several motorcycles, all sitting idle and unused since his departure. Tools and workbenches lined the walls, with other pieces of machinery he used in his hobbies next to them. Metal and woodworking equipment had been his distractions when the weather was unforgiving outside. He had a separate cooling and heating system for the spacious garage and shop area that allowed him some comfort in the cold winters or oppressive summer heat.

“Is all this stuff yours?” Aeryn asked as she inspected one of his motorcycles.

The Honda XL 350R she was analyzing was one of his favorites for running the desert trails around the house and backcountry dirt roads beyond. The oversized gas tank allowed him a significant range without fear of running out of fuel for extended rides. Built in the 1980s, the design was classic and enduring. Bryan kept his in almost new condition while using it as often as possible. He had an XL 650 sitting in the back, along with a few other bikes, but preferred the 350 for its lighter weight.

“If you think the Jeep is fun, wait until I take you out on that,” Bryan commented to the woman with a grin.

“I’ll pass then. The Jeep is not fun,” Seren commented as Aeryn silently mounted the two-wheeled wonder, hands on the handlebars and feet on the pegs as it sat on its stand.

“Let’s get everything inside, the sun is rising, and you all can explore the wonders of Bryan’s past later once we are settled in,” Cris stated, getting everyone back on point.

Zaim had already departed, taking the shuttle back to Independence hidden on the moon. The Jeep and crates with equipment and supplies were stacked outside the garage doors. With that, the four began moving everything inside the garage space closest to the door of the main house, and then Bryan brought in the Jeep and closed the roll-up door, sealing everything inside and out of view.

Leading everyone inside the house, he pointed out the function of each space as they worked their way through the dwelling.

“We have three bedrooms, but one also doubles as my office, and the couch in there converts to a double bed. The other is exclusively a guest bedroom, and the last is the master bedroom. Technically, I have a fourth bedroom, but it’s been converted into my gun room, so there are no sleeping arrangements there. There is one bathroom located in the hall, and a second is accessible from the master bedroom. Here is the kitchen, dining, and living rooms all in one space, like the galley and lounge on Independence. Out back is a covered porch with a table and seating for eating and relaxing. Its mate covers the entire front of the house. Make yourself at home, me casa es su casa,” Bryan parroted as if that tour had been given many times before, finishing with the traditional Spanish phrase.

With everything they brought along inside and the Jeep parked in the garage, Bryan excused himself and, with Aeryn close behind, fired up his laptop in the gun room. After several updates to the operating system, he finally checked his bank account.

“It’s surprising how much you can save if you just leave Earth for six months,” he laughed.

“You have funds we can work with while we are here?” Aeryn asked as she looked over his shoulder.

“Yes, I’m not rich by a long shot, but we do have money to work with. In addition, I brought golds with me that we can exchange here for cash,” he commented.

Pulling a gold coin from his pocket, he went to the scale he kept in his gun room and weighed it. It was used for reloading, measuring gunpowder, and bullet weights. Several of his firearms required ammunition that was not always readily available, and reloading spent brass was cheaper and easier than high-priced rounds in limited quantities.

“Just over one point five ounces,” he announced before moving back to his computer.

Checking the current exchange rate for gold, he nodded.

“That makes every gold I have roughly worth $5,500 each. I brought one hundred coins along just in case,” he laughed.

“Is that a lot?” Cris asked as he entered the room, catching the last bit of the conversation.

“My golds are worth half a million dollars here on Earth right now. That will cover just about anything we need and then some,” he confirmed.

“I’m not comfortable exchanging interstellar currency on Earth. It might attract unwanted attention if anyone questioned the unfamiliar markings,” Cris explained.

Bryan noted that the currency did contain Intergalactic Standard marking and language that confirmed its value and denomination. He had never paid much attention, as the colors of each were all anyone paid attention to when exchanging goods or services for payment.

“No worries, I have a melting pot for lead bullets so we can melt them down. I will pour them into an ingot mold, wiping out all traces of their origins. So long as they are pure gold, the people I know here don’t care what form it’s in,” he countered.

Cris nodded in understanding.

“Not people you know, they know your uncle,” Cris reminded him.

Bryan nodded in understanding.

“I’ll just cut some coins up and pour out 10-ounce ingots that we can cash in as we need to,” Bryan commented, mentally noting the 10-ounce ingots would be worth about $37,000 each, depending on the current exchange rate. He would need to tread carefully to avoid drawing too much attention to the transaction. Anyone cashing in $100,000 or more in gold was sure to be of interest to law enforcement and the taxman.

“No one will question you about its source?” Seren asked for the first time, engaging in the conversation as if reading his mind.

The doctor had joined the others by now and stood silently listening to the conversation.

“The desert around here is famous for abandoned gold mines. I used to explore and mine the old digs and more than once found enough gold dust and nuggets to make it worth my time. I will tell people I have been scouring old claims and got lucky. Besides, I won’t dump a huge quantity at once, I’ll spread it out over a few towns if necessary,” he offered.

“Just so we are not exchanging the minted currency,” Cris affirmed.

Looking up from his computer, Bryan noted the closest of his large safes against one wall. In the room, three huge gun safes held the lion’s share of his collection, with smaller vaults in the master bedroom and garage holding weapons he favored for self-defense.

“Hey, you want to see something?” he whispered to Aeryn.

He got up and walked over to the first massive steel box without waiting for a reply. Spinning the dial in the proper pattern, he turned the wheel, retracting the steel rods that held the door shut, and swung it wide to reveal the interior.

“These are all yours?” Aeryn commented in awe as she inspected the collection.

Bryan noted that Cris and Seren silently exited the room once they discerned that the topic of conversation was not one they were particularly interested in.

“Yup, been collecting them since I was a kid. There are more locked away in safes in the other rooms, but these I use more frequently,” he replied with pride.

Inside the open vault were rifles and pistols of all makes and models. Bryan had a few manufactured before the First World War, and the rest spanned the timeline to the modern day. The door alone had more than a dozen handguns, all hanging in pouches suspended behind the massive steel plate in a nylon sheet with pockets made for the purpose.

“May I?” she asked before reaching inside.

“One second,” he answered as he pulled one of the pistols off the door and unloaded it.

“Ok, none of the others are loaded,” he said as he waved her forward.

Silently, he watched Aeryn pull first one and then another of the firearms from their resting place and inspect each weapon. Most of the guns in his collection were far different from the AR and 1911 designs he had brought aboard the Independence. In truth, he had brought with him only two examples in varying calibers, so only one type of rifle and one handgun design.

The bolt-action and lever-action mechanisms of the rifles in his safe fascinated her, and the revolvers were utterly different from anything she had ever seen.

“I can see now why you are the marksman we have come to appreciate. If this is your playground, then the limited offerings we have provided you are a disappointment indeed,” she said as she spun the cylinder of a three fifty seven revolver several times in a row.

“No, not a disappointment, just fascinating and different from what I know,” he countered.

“Are you going to bring some of these back with you when we leave?” she asked, placing the revolver where she had found it and moving on to the following item of interest.

Bryan hadn’t considered it before, but this trip was an opportunity to gather a small collection of personal items, including weapons, to bring along when they returned to space. It was good to see his home had survived his absence, but the next time he came back to Earth might be years or even decades off. He also needed to consider what to do with his things if he never returned.

“Feel free to explore. I'd better finish getting us all settled in,” he told Aeryn as he left her in his gun room.

Heading into his bedroom, he discovered Seren already there unpacking her things.

“Did I miss a meeting? We are roomies,” he asked sarcastically as he didn’t recall any conversations over sleeping arrangements.

“Aeryn and I, how do you say it, flipped a coin to see who sleeps here with you. It has the largest bed, so it’s the proper choice for two, as there are four of us and only three almost comfortable beds,” she explained casually.

Bryan had a king-sized bed in the master bedroom and a queen mattress for guests in the room next door. He’d been told long ago by a wise old aunt never to make the guest room too comfortable, or they might not wish to leave. The bed in the room he had set up as an office was a futon couch, and the gun room had no sleeping furniture unless you considered an air mattress on the floor suitable. He would never insist on that, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t tease Seren a little.

“Not to be rude, but you and Aeryn could use the guest bed, and Cris or I can bunk in the office?” Bryan countered, knowing he would likely lose this argument, but he wanted to hear her reasoning.

Honestly, he would give Aeryn and Seren this room and sleep in his office, ensuring his guests had the best of it.

“We could, but where is the fun in that? Besides, it’s not like we are here for funny business. As it is, I worry that you might roll over in the night and crush me,” she teased as she continued to unpack.

Bryan had forgotten that Earth had more gravity than any of the others present were used to. Istu and Kylo came from planets with similar gravitational field strengths to Earth, but the others were used to fifteen to twenty percent less. Independence set her artificial gravity at 0.75 Earth normal, which was the standard for interstellar travel.

“Besides, why do you care? I’ve seen you naked before?” she teased as she stowed the last of her clothing in one of his dresser drawers.

“I don’t, I just figured it was Aeryn’s turn since you got the casino trip,” he joked.

“Her bad luck then,” Seren replied with a smile as she kissed his cheek and then left the room and headed into the living room, where Cris was setting up their equipment.

Chapter 18

Town

The next morning provided a clear sunny sky, and they had nothing to do, so Bryan decided a scouting trip to town was in order, and Seren should tag along to help sort out the more edible food choices as he got some shopping in while there. Bryan had to throw a charger on the truck battery before it would start, as Seren loudly proclaimed the Jeep was not fit transportation for man nor beast. They all talked as the pair waited for the charge to take hold before departing for town.

A newer model GMC, the vehicle was Bryan’s comfort ride, featuring a leather interior and climate control. While still a four-wheel drive, the suspension was more forgiving on the rough dirt roads than its smaller alternative.

“Now this is more like it,” Seren proclaimed from the passenger seat as Bryan took her on the chore to ride to town with him.

After a breakfast of rations from Independence, Cris and Aeryn stayed behind to continue setting up the monitoring equipment they had brought along for the outing. While intergalactic visitors had all the technology they needed to hide from Earth’s detection methods, the stuff in Bryan’s living room was explicitly intended to root out intergalactic visitors in ways the humans could not imagine.

Seren and Bryan were sent on a run to restock the bare pantry and provide fresh food for their stay, as anything found in Bryan’s refrigerator was long past its use-by date. They had made a dump run on the way to town, as there was no garbage pickup so far out and the purge of Bryan’s kitchen had created two large plastic bags full of spoiled and stale foodstuff.

“This place is disgusting,” Seren commented, wrinkling her nose over the stench.

An outdoor garbage dump was typical in this area of the state, a vast pit filled with refuse that was then covered to rot and decay, until some future archaeologist uncovered it to study ancient man. Bryan often wondered what future man would think of their ancestors after rummaging through all the nonbiodegradable discards they found in the dirt there.

Disposing of the trash quickly, the pair headed to town to complete their mission.

“Let’s try here,” Bryan offered as they pulled into one of the many markets Bryan frequented in his previous life as one of the town’s regulars.

There was a tinge of nervousness in him as he led Seren inside the establishment. He wasn’t concerned about his companion as she was close enough to human to fool anyone who was not drawing blood or x-raying her. It was the fact that he came here often in his prior life, and wondered if this version of himself, thirty-plus years younger, might draw the unwanted attention of those he had known for decades. In truth, it was a test to see how safe he was from detection.

Grabbing a shopping cart, he led the doctor down the many aisles as they gathered items of interest. At first, as they wandered, he noted the occasional stare from the other patrons, but soon realized it wasn’t him attracting the attention of the others. It took him a minute to understand their casual interest, and when he did, he almost laughed.

“Bryan, I think these humans are staring at you. Do they know who you are?” Seren whispered at one point as the two traveled the store's aisles.

“It’s not me they are staring at; it’s you. For this town you are, …unusual, shall we say,” Bryan explained with a laugh he had been holding back.

“Am I not clothed properly?” she asked as she pulled at the jumpsuit, the one they all agreed would pass on Earth for suitable human clothing.

“No, that’s not it at all. Here, we would call you drop-dead gorgeous. Notice it’s mostly the men staring,” he explained as he pulled a fashion magazine from the book rack and passed it to her.

“Yes, they look and smile. But the females seem to be glaring at me as well,” she commented as an older couple passed them.

Bryan noted that the older man, likely in his mid-fifties, smiled brightly at his companion, while the woman, probably his wife, did her best to hurry them past, her face showing disapproval. Bryan had grown so used to his friends that he had forgotten their exceptional beauty. The Cheizat race might have been one intent on violence, but they looked good doing it.

The encounter struck a chord, and checking the cell phone he had brought along from home, he checked the day and date. He hadn’t realized that it was the weekend, so rather than single shoppers they might have expected on a weekday, they were encountering couples and families doing their weekend tasks.

“We only see women like you in there,” he offered as he pointed to the glamour magazine.

Seren paged through the images before huffing in dismissal and handing the publication back to him.

“These are average Cheizat females at best,” she replied, as she watched him return it to the rack.

Bryan pondered that the Cheizat and human standards for attractiveness seemed to overlap. It was also evident that Seren held a bias toward her species when compared to humans. He supposed it was her high-society attitudes at play and wanted to point out that she had found at least one human male to her liking, above her peers.

Then again, maybe it wasn’t his looks she preferred; he was just new and different, so he held his tongue, not wanting to spoil his illusions. He preferred to imagine she thought him attractive rather than learn otherwise.

“Which is why Cheizat females aren’t allowed in the Miss America pageant,” he replied sarcastically, pointing to the beauty queen on the cover before replacing the magazine in the rack.

As they walked through the market, Bryan explained his selections to Seren so she might gauge the suitability for the Cheizat physiology and nutritional values. An inverse experience for Bryan compared to his arrival on Independence. Here, he could eat anything available, but was unsure about the impact on his companions.

Seren would consider each before approving or dismissing the selection as safe. Bryan noted that on several occasions, shoppers and store personnel would stop and listen to the exchange, their looks confused at Seren’s speech when she relied. It was then he remembered that only he could understand her words, the universal translator behind one ear providing the intelligible content. To the others, it was all garbled babbling. Seren could understand them, thanks to her translator, but not the other way around.

“What is that?” Seren suddenly asked, pointing to a woman with two small children in tow.

Bryan had always admired young mothers for how they managed to complete their daily tasks with several kids under their supervision, multitasking at its finest.

“That’s a family, a mom and her children. I imagine dads are working today, or …nope, here he comes,” he finished as a man appeared with another child at his side.

The kids appeared to range in age from about 6 months to seven or eight years old. The oldest had been with Dad and dropped their selection in the shopping cart while Dad gave Mom a peck on the cheek, and then the entire group continued on their way down the next aisle.

Bryan realized this sight, while normal to any human, was odd to a Cheizat. Seren’s next question confirmed the fact.

“Is that usual for humans, that children live with their parents while growing up?” she asked with a tinge of envy.

“For the most part, yes, some children are orphans or are given up for adoption for various reasons, but on the whole, we raise our kids and do our best to prepare them to become self-supporting adults,” he confirmed.

“Oh, isn’t that inefficient? How does the community gain uniformity and manage growth?” she asked in wonder.

“That’s not our goal. We have children because we want them, not to grow our numbers,” he countered, drawing a look of astonishment from her.

“How do you evaluate what they are good at, you know, for a future position in society?” she pressed.

“Again, not our intention. Yes, everyone is educated and as a whole provided an opportunity to build a future that makes them happy, not just find what they are good at and force them to do that job for the rest of their lives,” Bryan expanded.

For the rest of the time in the market, Seren was pretty quiet as she watched those around them doing their shopping. She would pause with every family group, commenting that both fathers and mothers would take their children out while they performed their domestic duties.

At one point, he added beer and wine to the cart in small quantities as he had no idea if the alcohol affected the Cheizat the way it did humans. When he first came aboard Independence, Seren explained to Bryan that the intoxicating beverages he would experience off Earth were more than alcoholic ingredients.

Finished with their shopping and pushing a cart filled with enough food to keep the four of them well-fed for days, they made their way to the front of the store. He paid for their groceries using some cash he had stashed at the house. While at the register, the cashier commented on Bryan’s appearance.

“Excuse me, are you related to Bryan Norton?” she noted as she rang up the purchases.

“Yes. He’s my uncle. I’m staying at his place while he’s away,” Bryan replied with his prepared cover story as Seren gave him a look of warning but held her tongue.

Everyone cautioned Bryan to maintain the cover story at all costs about his absence, as it wasn’t just his life that was at risk should his identity be discovered. He knew they had sent messages to friends and family when he left Earth, and he could see she was concerned he was staying within the narrative they had spun. Their concern reinforced Bryan’s belief that the Enforcers could be ruthless when motivated. Dead Enforcers were ample motivation.

He noted that Seren’s translator allowed her to follow the conversation, but if she attempted to speak, the cashier would only hear gibberish, thus the silent admonition. It was just as well she couldn’t talk, as the cashier seemed to flirt with him as she worked. As the cashier spoke, Seren placed her hand on his arm and squeezed, expressing her silent displeasure at the situation.

“You have a strong family resemblance. I see handsome runs in the family. We haven’t seen him in some time now, is he okay?” she persisted as she gave him a warm smile while ignoring his female companion.

“Thank you. Yes, he landed a military contract job for weapons testing. It’s all hush hush, so I can’t talk about it, but honestly, I don’t know much more than that as it is,” Bryan lied.

“Well, that makes sense, I guess. He had a way with guns for sure. If you hear from him, please give him our best and let him know we miss him. And you come back to see us soon,” she replied with a wink.

Bryan thanked the woman, paid for the food, and then led Seren to where they had parked his truck.

“Are all human females so aggressive?” Seren commented as they walked, the tone of disapproval obvious.

“I’m not sure you are one to talk,” Bryan countered, laughing at the jealous attitude she displayed.

“That’s different. You needed us to show you that we cared, and you fit in with the crew. She was on the hunt for a mate, I could tell,” Seren replied, dismissing the comparison.

Stopping suddenly, Seren let out a gasp of surprise.

“Is that a wolf?” Seren asked as she pointed to a boy walking a rather large dog through the parking lot.

“Hardly, though the dog might argue the point if it could,” he laughed as he considered some of the canine companions of his past.

“Is that safe? That tether looks too small to control the animal,” Seren said.

Bryan guessed it was a German Shepherd mix and appeared to be accustomed to the trip to the store, as it casually strolled at its owner's side. The boy, who looked to be about ten, was bored as he headed toward the market.

“It’s a pet. It’s called a dog,” he explained.

Bryan paused, leading Seren over to the approaching pair and leaving their shopping cart at the truck.

“Can we pet your dog?” he asked politely.

“Sure, he’s friendly,” the boy answered, proud of his companion.

Leading Seren over to the canine, he scratched between the ears before stroking its back. It responded as he expected, soaking in the attention with a wag of its tail.

“See,” he commented to her as he laid her hand between his shoulders.

“It’s soft,” she commented as she mimicked his actions.

If the boy caught Seren’s unintelligible comment, he ignored it, but the dog seemed to enjoy the attention from strangers. All too soon, Bryan had to break up the doggie lovefest he had initiated. He wondered about bringing one with him after they left Earth and decided it wasn’t fair to the dog.

“Thanks,” he offered as the boy and his dog continued on their way

Seren was quiet as they returned to the truck, and Bryan wondered if aliens had pets. He thought that the Independence crew might actually consider him to be their pet human. Placing their goods in the back seat of the four-door pickup, both climbed inside, and Bryan headed out back onto the street.

“We need to make one more stop before we can go back home,” Bryan announced as he pulled the truck into a gas station.

Seren followed him out as he began filling the truck with diesel. Topping off the tank on the vehicle, he pulled a gas can from the bed and put 5 gallons of regular gas into the empty container.

“That stuff stinks, what’s it for?” Seren commented as she watched him work.

“It’s our version of fuel rods. Almost everything I own runs on it,” he explained as he capped the can and placed it securely in the back of the truck, strapping it down so it wouldn’t move around as he drove.

“Homeward bound,” he announced as they climbed into the cab.

Chapter 19

Bryan’s house, Earth

On the trip back to his property, the two rode in relative silence, Seren looking out the window and offering the occasional observation as he drove. It was a bittersweet experience for Bryan, with flashes of nostalgia passing through his brain as he recalled a life here, one that he had initially abandoned to escape the bounty hunters and later the Enforcers.

“I have never really studied Earth before. Your settlements are interesting, but chaotic,” Seren commented as they left the city limits and headed out into the surrounding desert.

“In what way?” Bryan asked as they sped along the two-lane blacktop road.

“Your species doesn’t standardize on a single dwelling style or building material. It’s almost as if everyone does their own thing. It’s quite confusing,” she explained.

“Actually, yes, that is exactly what we do. We are an independent species that values freedom of choice over conformity and tries to do what makes us happy without impacting others. Some choose to live in dense cities while others want the wide-open spaces to live and work in freedom,” he confirmed.

“Is that why you decided to isolate yourself out here, away from others of your kind? Is that what makes you happy?” Seren asked as she indicated the vast desert around them with only the occasional dwelling off in the distance.

“After I blew my knee out and was medically discharged, I lost my direction in life.  I tried various jobs, but they were like treading water, waiting for something real to come by and rescue me,” he explained.

“That is why you have no mate to share your life with, this lack of direction?” she asked unexpectedly.

Bryan recalled that Seren had found herself on the run for pursuing a relationship with her superior, a married man. It escalated into conflict over his wife's objections to the intimate bond, and she became the victim of her anger and the target for revenge over past transgressions not of Seren’s doing.

“After I retired out here, I’ve had a few long-time girlfriends and recreational partners, as you all say, but none ever stuck around for more than a few years,” he admitted, using the alien term for booty calls.

By now, pavement had given way to a dirt road, and the smooth ride faded into a gentle rumbling. It wasn’t long before the turnoff for Bryan’s house appeared, and he followed the trail up to his dwelling. Pulling into the garage, Bryan and Seren carried the bags of food from the store into the kitchen. There, he began to put things away as he listened to the activity nearby.

Bryan watched Cris and Aeryn huddled around a collection of instruments, their displays lit up with indiscernible images and script.

“Any luck?” he asked after putting everything away in the kitchen.

“No indications of Enforcer activity nearby, but we detect their presence on Earth,” Aeryn answered.

“Is there a lot of alien activity on Earth? I mean, would they be all over the planet?” Bryan asked in curiosity.

“We came here on a hunch that the investigators would start in the area of the recent bounty hunter deaths. Earth is not part of any regular Enforcer activity, so there are not a lot of places of interest beyond the killings. The Enforcers monitor the planet for orbital events, but as a species, you are limited to your local solar system and generally uninteresting as a race. One of your most interesting attributes is your tolerance to a wide range of temperatures compared to other species. It’s not unique, mind you, just unusual,” Aeryn added, noting his warm weather preferences.

“Well, we are set up to alert if anything suspicious occurs, so I guess it's just sit and wait,” Cris commented.

Once again, Bryan noted that Cris’s explanation was unfocused and without an objective he understood. Wait for what, he wondered. Without anything urgent to do, Bryan excused himself and returned to the garage, where he pulled out his riding boots and slipped them on. Next, he recovered the gas can from the truck bed and rolled his XR350 outside into the sunshine.

“Damn it’s been a while,” he commented, as he considered the last time he had felt like riding this motorcycle.

In truth, with his old body, if he spent too much time riding hard in the dirt, his knee would ache and swell, giving him a few days of pain as a reminder of the penalty he paid for the adventure. He loved riding on and off the paved road, and it broke his heart when he had to cut back on the off-road activity. Sitting firmly on the seat helped, so his road time was not as limited, but there was a lot of standing when in the dirt.

Now, returned to his youthful body, he ached to get out and ride hard and fast. He wanted to test the MRT restored body to its fullest.

“What are you doing?” Aeryn asked as she joined him outside.

“I’m about to rock your world,” he commented as he filled the gas tank and then went back into the garage as she watched.

Returning with two helmets and a second pair of riding boots, he handed the footwear to the woman.

“These will be a tad large on you, but that’s ok, we are not walking,” he commented as he pointed to the pair he had on.

Long ago, Bryan had fitted the XR with a set of buddy pegs, as his lady friend at the time was willing to ride with him as a passenger but not on her own bike. The big Honda had plenty of seat space, but no place to rest her feet without the addition. He figured Aeryn would succumb to the adrenaline rush the off-road adventure promoted once she experienced it firsthand, so he proceeded accordingly.

Giving her a chance to get changed, he passed her gloves and the helmet, assisting her in securing them. The chin strap and buckle appeared foreign to anything she had experienced in the past.

The next thing he did was fire up the bike, happy it started with only a few kicks after sitting for so long.

“Why is everything you do so noisy?” she shouted over the running engine, climbing behind him onto the two-wheeler without prompting.

As he enjoyed the throaty roar of the engine, Bryan showed her where to place her feet on the pegs as she mounted the motorcycle.

“Part of the fun,” he answered as he guided her arms about his waist to ensure she stayed in place before putting it in gear and launching off down the dirt road, the rear wheel spitting dirt and rocks as it spun wildly.

Bryan heard a squeal of excitement from his passenger as he sprinted across the desert, the occasional leap into the air as the bike became airborne a plus. He could feel Aeryn’s arms squeezing him tightly as she worked to stay seated and not slip off the back. He followed a well-worn path in the desert, one he had traveled and enjoyed many times over the years.

Feeling better than he had in a very long time, Bryan twisted the throttle more and launched the XR across the flats, slowing only slightly as he felt Aeryn squeeze even tighter to avoid losing her grasp on him. Twists and turns in the trail had the pair dodging and weaving between the rocks and brush.

He knew to avoid the all too familiar cactus plants, as the prickly pear and cholla cactus lined the path they were following. Riding in open country for so many years, he had changed many a flat tire, as the prickly plants seemed to appear out of nowhere and stabbed deeply into the rubber.

By the time they returned to the house, both Seren and Cris were waiting for them. Cris showed a mild interest while Seren had a look of terror on her face.

“Next?” he asked the pair after killing the engine while Aeryn slid off the back.

“Not on your life!” Seren declared as Aeryn started praising the experience.

“That’s fantastic, I want one of my own! Can you teach me to ride?” Aeryn asked after slipping the helmet off her head.

“I can. I have a smaller XR150 in the back of the garage, it's a great beginner’s bike and one you will quickly outgrow,” Bryan confirmed as he pointed into the garage.

“Why can’t I ride this one?” She pressed.

“All in good time, but this one can hurt you if you don’t know how to ride,” Bryan cautioned.

“This is why you live out here, to ride those things and drive your Jeep uninterrupted?” Cris asked with a tinge of envy as Aeryn went into the garage looking for her motorcycle.

“And shooting, don’t forget the shooting,” Bryan replied sarcastically.

“This was all there was to your life before Independence, huh?” Seren commented, appearing disappointed at his lack of sophistication.

“A man needs his hobbies and interests,” Cris confirmed.

“I am a firm believer in the saying, he who dies with the most toys wins,” Bryan declared proudly as they watched Aeryn wheeling out the smaller motorcycle she had found.

----*----

Arizona Desert, Earth

Bryan spent the rest of the afternoon teaching Aeryn how to ride the smaller Honda XR motorcycle. There were the typical tumbles as she worked to gain balance and control, for she had never even ridden a bicycle in her youth and thus was behind the curve of the typical human child in that experience. His biggest challenge was in keeping her to a speed relative to her skill level, as she wanted to blast across the open ground at every turn.

Cris had returned inside the house, but Seren watched the pair from the shade of the open garage. The temperature outside began to reach the upper 70s, which Bryan found refreshingly comfortable, while the Cheizat females commented on the building's heat. Bored with the show, Seren eventually went inside, leaving the pair alone outside.

Soon, the first officer was circling the house with stability and purpose, her wobbles decreasing, and her building confidence showing as she gained skill and experience. Her speed increased with confidence, and it was midafternoon when Bryan had to caution Aeryn to slow down before she ran him over as she sped past him.

“Okay, you think you are ready to try it for real?” he asked her, pointing to the trail leading away from the house as they drank water.

“You bet,” Aeryn replied with a broad smile behind the helmet chin guard after returning her helmet to her head, anxious to be on her way.

Mounting his bike, Bryan started slowly down the trail they had taken earlier, but soon felt the pressure of Aeryn behind him, urging him to go faster. Sticking to the more well-worn path, he wanted to avoid some of the rougher parts of the area until she gained more control and experience. Soon enough, the pair had been riding for over an hour, hitting some challenging terrain for the new rider, and he decided a rest stop was overdue.

Halting to take a break, Bryan and Aeryn shut the motorcycles off, and he passed her the canteen he kept in one of the pouches strapped on the back of the bike. Located at the rear like soft saddle bags, Bryan had added them to his XR once Aeryn proved accomplished enough for greater distance rides. Inside were snacks, water, and one of his many handguns, which had been pulled from the safe inside the garage.

A tank bag held a first aid kit along with a few other items and was positioned between the gas cap and above the front of the seat. In all, the three pouches carried everything a desert rider needed to save his butt in a crisis.

“Having a good time?” Bryan asked as the two traded the canteen back and forth,

“More fun than I’ve had in a very long time. I can see why you struggled to leave,” she replied with a beaming smile.

“It is addictive,” he responded, sure the motorcycle bug had bitten her.

Pausing, Bryan pulled out a small pair of binoculars and scanned the area.

“That’s my house there,” Bryan offered as he passed the device to Aeryn and pointed to the black speck in the distance.

She accepted the apparatus and placed it in front of her eyes, as she had watched him do.

“Bryan, there is someone there besides Cris and Seren,” she said in alarm as she passed the binoculars back to him.

Bryan watched silently as two men stood and talked to Seren and Cris, neither brandishing weapons nor acting aggressively. For all appearances, it looked like a casual conversation between friends.

“Can you tell if they are Cheizat?” Bryan asked as he passed the binoculars back to Aeryn.

Once again, they both stood in silence as Aeryn studied the scene.

“Maybe. Cris is tall, not as tall as you, but his human genes keep him on the large side for our species. These two are smaller but not overly so. Cheizat sent to Earth are specially chosen to be able to blend in, so it can be hard to pick them out at this distance,” she explained.

Bryan had never given it much thought, but in this context, both Cris and Aeryn were taller than Seren or the other Enforcers Bryan had encountered. Azizi was small, closer to Seren in size, and the rest of the crew were more akin to Cris, except Istu, who towered over all of them, including Bryan.

“You are tall?” Bryan commented.

“I am what you call an Amazon in relation to other Cheizat females, but naturally tall and not because of mixed genes like Cris. Seren is more typical in height for a Cheizat female,” she replied as she continued to watch the interaction at the house.

At that point, the two pairs involved in the distant conversation separated, and the newcomers disappeared behind the house only to reappear in a car as they drove off.

“You think they are your neighbors checking on the house with the new activity?” she asked, questioning the scene.

“No, I don’t recognize either of them, and if the neighbors were concerned, they would have sent the sheriff,” he replied after some thought.

“I bet they were Cheizat Enforcers checking in on our little excursion to Earth. I don’t know what Cris told them, but I am sure they will be back,” Aeryn offered as she passed the binoculars back to Bryan with a note of concern in her voice.

“Time to head back,” Bryan replied as he had nothing to offer beyond agreeing with her guess.

----*----

Bryan’s House, Earth

Dinner was an experiment, and all the ingredients used were purchased on Bryan and Seren’s trip to the market. Assuming the role of chef once more for the rest of the party, Bryan went the extra mile in preparing an assortment of dishes, allowing each member to sample the offerings. As with Bryan, just because it was edible didn’t make it appealing to the alien tastebuds.

While Bryan worked, Cris and Seren explained the visit the dirt bikers had witnessed from afar.

“I am glad you weren’t here, Bryan. I am unsure how we would explain your presence to the Enforcer investigators without raising concern,” Cris began.

“Couldn’t you just tell them I am a local who took you in without knowing your true identities?” Bryan suggested.

“More likely they would assume you did know who we are, and since it's illegal for off-worlders to expose ourselves to the indigenous population, they would unilaterally take action against all of us,” Cris replied somberly.

“Let them try,” Aeryn commented as she watched Bryan work in the kitchen.

“More dead enforcers we don’t need,” Cris replied dryly.

Besides cooking inside, Bryan had fired up his wood-burning grill and laid beef, chicken, and pork on it for the three aliens to test. Potatoes, corn, and other vegetables were frying, roasting, or baking inside in and on the oven range. Glazes, sauces, gravy, and other added extras to enhance the flavors we presented.

For the next hour, Bryan walked them through the offerings, and each tried a small bite before piling on or passing over to the next option as their tastes dictated. All commented on what was savory and what left them with a nasty aftertaste. Ultimately, it proved to be a matter of individual taste, as several choices were popular among all, while others had their champions and detractors. No one dish got thumbs down from all three, and Bryan took that as a win.

“We presented credentials suggesting we are part of an anthropological study of humans and other less intelligent native species on Earth. Kylo doctored up the paperwork, and the fact that Doctor Seren knew certain aspects of humans’ physiology helped sell the tale,” Cris offered after dinner as they continued the earlier conversation.

During dinner, the four sampled the various beverages selected earlier that day. Beer, wine, and various nonalcoholic soft drinks were opened and distributed for evaluation. Bryan was surprised to see the sodas were more popular than the hard liquor and seemed to have the same impact on the three aliens as alcohol.

“It tickles my nose,” Aeryn giggled as she sipped at a cola.

“I need to analyze these,” Seren observed as she sipped a root beer and motioned at the first officer’s behavior.

From that point on, the dinner conversation revolved around anything but work. Aeryn touted the motorcycle adventure and begged Bryan to take her out again the next day. Seren discouraged the idea, suggesting they head back into town to explore the more civilized aspects of the community. Cris sat silently as he watched Bryan in a manner that suggested he was looking for the right time to tell him bad news.

“Why are we really here?” Bryan finally asked as everyone sat in the living room after the dishes had been done and the kitchen cleaned.

“You need to tell him, Cris,” Aeryn prodded while Seren nodded in silence, their earlier buzz still noticeable.

Cris sat in silence for a bit before agreeing. He seemed more clearer-headed than the other two and was hesitant.

“We had hoped to be able to handle this without drawing you into the mess, but it appears that isn’t an option,” Cris began.

“Okay,” was all Bryan could offer.

“You never asked why we were on Earth when we met,” Cris added as he looked at Bryan.

Bryan considered the statement before speaking, trying to recall all that transpired in those early days.

“You said you needed fuel for the ship,” he eventually replied.

“Yes, but why were we even in this solar system to begin with. Earth is not exactly in the center of the universe, although humans seem to believe it is,” he commented, trying to add humor to the conversation.

“Okay, yes, I never asked, so I will now. Why were you here?” Bryan asked after being prompted.

Cris paused as he looked to the two women for support.

“There was a crash landing on Earth roughly two gigacycles ago, about seventy-five of your years, in a place called New Mexico. Before the Enforcers could move in and recover the ship, its contents, and bodies within, the humans had secured the area and carted off anything and everything in sight,” he explained.

“It was all stored in a military base in what you know as Nevada and out of the Enforcers' reach without exposing ourselves to humanity. There was too much material to recover covertly, and there was no possibility of doing so without exposure of our existence,” Aeryn added.

“When you suggested we use your Area 51 as the source of your disappearance, we wondered then if you understood the significance of us being here,” Seren offered.

“No, I just put disappearance in the desert and aliens together and came up with Area 51,” he replied jokingly.

“The crew of the ship that crashed was Cheizat. All perished in the incident, and the humans were concerned that their outward resemblance to humans indicated there were more aliens among them on Earth. That was the reason for the tight security surrounding the recovery operation and the secrecy that followed,” Cris continued.

“You seem to know a lot about this for so long ago,” Bryan observed.

“There are records from that time when Enforcer observers tracked the activities, hoping to sweep in and remove the ship and bodies before any real damage was done. Thankfully, your government was more paranoid than the intergalactic counterpart and kept a lid on the entire episode,” Aeryn explained.

“Why is this all so important now?” Bryan asked, considering the incident ancient history in human terms.

Cris seemed to be a bit embarrassed as he considered his reply.

“We were a bit down and out at that time, when we met you, not flush with funds like we have become since your arrival. It is understood among our species that the ship that crashed was a group of Cheizat Enforcer deserters that had illegally hijacked the transfer of funds between a core planet and a Cheizat military training ship. It was a vast sum intended as payroll and operating capital for the next few cycles,” Aeryn explained in Cris’s stead.

“We don’t know what happened to the bodies of the crew, nor do we really care, but the ship and all of its contents are still in Nevada. We did a sensor sweep of the area and located several places with materials common to Cheizat ships and substances alien to Earth,” Cris supplied.

“The currency is sealed in boxes no technology on Earth could penetrate. To you humans, they would appear to be solid metal blocks,” Aeryn added.

“Our goal was to slip in and retrieve as many payroll boxes as we could and slip out undetected,” Cris said.

“Are you telling me this was a treasure hunt and you came here to rob Area 51?” Bryan asked in astonishment.

“Technically, the things we seek were never yours, so it’s not theft. We prefer to think of it as recovering items taken from us,” Aeryn inserted.

“Better described as recovery of alien artifacts never intended for humans to possess, that have a monetary value,” Cris finessed as all knew the items of interest were never stolen from Independence, so the us didn’t apply.

“So just where was this crash site?” Bryan asked as he considered the tale.

“I believe you know it as Roswell. Roswell, New Mexico,” Cris answered.

Chapter 20

Bryan’s House, Earth

The following morning, Bryan made breakfast for everyone while the others compiled all the information they had gathered on the desert facility and its surroundings, including Area 51. Scanning it as he had time, to him, it seemed the Independence crew had been planning the heist for quite some time and had gathered a trove of information the United States Government would classify as Top Secret. Likely, the military would shit their collective pants if they understood how much the aliens knew about the workings of their secret base.

“You are the missing piece to our original plan, a human with a deep understanding of your protocols and procedures. Getting in and out of the installation wasn’t difficult, but taking the containers with us proved impossible. We needed help in understanding the inner workings of the place,” Aeryn explained as she began stacking piles of documents on the dining room table.

“Understand, I know the Marines, but this is an Air Force base and they do things a little differently,” he replied.

Bryan agreed he knew how the Marines worked well, but in his experience, every branch had its particular way of doing things. All he could promise was to pass them off as legitimate Marines if it came to that. How they managed to get the crates out was a question that remained open.

During the initial tour of the house, Bryan had proudly displayed his "I Love Me" wall in his office, complete with all its paraphernalia. A tradition for service members with a significant amount of time in their specific branch, it held plaques, citations, and awards, all hung with pride. Included in Bryan’s collection were handmade offerings from those units he commanded in the past, intended to thank him for his dedication to his Marines.

His flag, provided at his retirement ceremony, sat in its triangular display case atop one corner of his desk.

“Your uniform?” Seren had asked as she produced his dress blues from the closet.

“One of many. That one is my dress uniform for ceremonies, events, and parties. These others are my Bravos and Charlies, the office attire and the combat cammies worn in garrison or overseas,” he explained as he produced an example of each.

In the next room, he provided details on all the equipment in his gun room. Three safes, a workbench, and a closet full of ammo were all on display for Seren’s inspection. During the tour, Bryan had opened all three of his gun safes and the closet that held shelves of ammunition for the collection.

“Why so much?” Seren asked as she pointed to the boxes of ammunition, all sorted by caliber, bullet weight, and manufacturer.

“Most of what I own shoots various calibers of bullets, and those in turn can have a range of bullet weights that perform differently. Some hit harder at close range while others can go a mile or more in distance,” Bryan explained.

“In addition, I try to take advantage of sales where things get discounted due to overstock. Also, I can reload more on my own with the press there, saving some money and fine-tuning the loads,” he added with a smile.

“So, your life before. You would take some of these weapons and go out into the desert to shoot all day?” she observed.

“Frequently, weather permitting,” he replied with a nod.

Bryan could see Seren examining the rifles, handguns, and shotguns he had stored in the steel vaults. She took great care not to touch anything, as if doing so might infect her. With a nod, she turned to him with a look of clarity, like a realization had come to her.

“I am thinking that your exile from Earth was long overdue. It is obvious you had far too much free time on your hands,” she declared before leaving the room.

----*----

Bryan’s House, Earth

Finally able to sit and concentrate on one thing, Bryan began sorting through the piles of documents from inside the crate. The deeper he dug into the stacks and stacks of paperwork, the more amazed he became. Spread out across his dining room table were government and military records dating back to 1947, which identified Roswell, New Mexico, as the initial location of the artifacts. Unredacted, Bryan wondered how the Enforcers had obtained the duplicates in an age of hard copies.

The newer and more recent forms had been obtained electronically and then printed on the sheets the aliens used for paper. More durable and less likely to degrade over time, these observations described the results of ongoing testing of the crashed ship and its contents.

“As you can see, they are still trying to get the ship repaired and operational, but that’s a lost cause until they find a way to prime the power converter,” Aeryn commented.

Bryan knew from previous conversations that the unit used to provide power to the ship via the fuel rods needed to be initially primed to function correctly. Once active, it operated continuously unless damaged or depleted fuel rods ran it dry. The realization that he had never asked what the nature of the power was came to him, and he inquired about the subject.

“Do you use electricity for power?” He asked, understanding the technology to be the flow of electrons along a conductor.

Aeryn laughed at the question before replying.

“No, we have a far more efficient and powerful system using subatomic particles smaller than electrons in a reaction that energizes everything. The transformer, once primed, runs subatomic current through the fuel rods, which amplify the charge by orders of magnitude, depleting the rods over time. That’s why we have the fuel rod storage arrays you have seen. The effect is similar to your electric flow but not exactly the same,” she explained.

“That’s why they just can’t replace the power system on the ship and activate the drives,” he commented rather than questioned.

“Precisely, if they were to try it, it would be like attaching a water hose to your house instead of the electrical lines. It might not damage anything, but nothing will operate,” she agreed.

Focusing again on the documents before him, it soon became apparent that all of the items recovered at Roswell were in residence at Groom Lake, i.e., Area 51 or the Nevada Testing and Training Area. He knew no one in government or the military officially referred to the site as Area 51, that was more of a pop culture reference. The area known as Area 51 was designated "Area 51" on these Atomic Energy Commission maps, according to what he had been told.

“What are these?” Bryan questioned as he produced images and surveys that were unlike any others.

“Our scans. That’s what we were doing just before you found us. The highlighted areas indicate where we detected the deserter ship and its contents. As you can see, various locations each have a portion of the find from Roswell. No one location has it all,” Cris contributed.

“I thought you were here looking for minerals for the star drive,” Bryan said.

Bryan could see there was an undertone of discomfort about their activities just before his arrival on Independence. He could understand tough times called for desperate measures, and it wasn’t like they were robbing Earth. There was something else going on, though, as Bryan could see the intensity in Cris’s face.

“I was doing that while the others devised the plan to recover the coin cases. We used the last of our fuel rods to get here. We knew Earth had the ore we needed, so we planned on mining some, just as we ended up doing, but that wasn’t the main objective in coming here,” he acknowledged.

Bryan was trying to work out the sequence of events, and it seemed to him that it was out of order. Rather than press the issue, he continued to question the overall plan.

“How were you planning to get inside and out again undetected?” Bryan asked as he reviewed the diagrams.

According to the images, it was highly probable that the containers with all the coins were not currently being studied, as several documents in the stacks of paper detailed past fruitless attempts. After the most recent effort using the latest cutting-edge technology, they had been stored in a secure facility for the last decade.

It was apparent that the ship was a close kin to Rogue, currently parked in Independence’s shuttle bay, and was under constant analysis. Unlike the coin containers, its hull was easily breached, and scientists and engineers had dissected every part of the vessel, both inside and out, over the last seventy-five-plus years.

“That was open to suggestion. While we could get ourselves in and out safely, and had done so before, acquiring and transporting the containers undetected proved to be the challenge. Alone, each box is too heavy to carry away without antigravity assistance and multiple participants,” Cris offered.

With the understanding that each container was about six cubic feet in volume, Bryan did some quick math. A cubic foot of gold weighed in at nearly twelve hundred pounds, making the boxes almost ten thousand pounds each.

“Wait, those things are five tons each?” Bryan declared.

“Tons?” Aeryn asked in confusion.

Bryan realized the translator had failed him and explained.

“A ton is another way of saying two thousand pounds, and six containers equals thirty tons or sixty thousand pounds. No wonder you couldn’t move them,” he explained in disbelief.

“The containers have antigravity generators integrated into their skins for use when not in space. On a vessel, you exempt them from the ship's artificial gravity, but you need the extra nullification planet-side. It’s activated once in a gravity field, and they reduce the perceived weight to about one thousand pounds each. We will still need antigravity clamps to move them by hand, or machinery,” Cris offered.

Bryan was familiar with the clamps as he had seen the others use them in the cargo hold. Once attached to an item, it became weightless, allowing you to move the object more easily. Inertia was still an issue, and one had to take care moving things over uneven surfaces as the load could run away on you. Even so, one-thousand-pound blocks floating from one point to another could present significant dangers. In all, it seemed a lot of risk now, when the money wasn’t needed.

“Why is all this an issue now? Surely, we don’t need the money, so what drives the urgency? What haven’t you told me?” Bryan pressed.

He could see Aeryn and Cris exchanging glances before the captain finally spoke.

“This isn’t the first time we tried this. Just before Aeryn joined the crew, she had learned more about the crashed ship and its contents here on Earth as an Enforcer. Since this planet is off limits, it was decided that the Enforcers would abandon any efforts on recovery and would only keep tabs on the contents, but make no attempt to retrieve the ship and its cargo. Earth’s detection technology was improving. However, it was still far too primitive to advance from the wreckage, so the risk outweighed the benefit for them,” Cris explained.

“With the Enforcers out of the way, we decided to try and recover only the payment containers, a low-risk item, and a sum that would fund us for a very long time. During that effort, we located the boxes in a lab where they were again attempting to breach the walls and see what’s inside,” he continued.

“We were detected before we could get the boxes out, so in a hurry, we put a tracking tag in them so we could return later,” Aeryn explained.

“A tag?” Bryan questioned.

“It’s a location beacon that tells us exactly where the boxes are at all times. We use them for securing the landing party. If something goes wrong, we know precisely where the individual is. It’s why we can tell you with one hundred percent certainty where we know them to be,” Cris outlined.

“It’s all my fault, really. I panicked and dropped my tag into the container before resealing it so that we could find it again,” Aeryn explained.

“I still don’t see the issue?” Bryan replied.

“The bad part is the tags work both ways, and if someone gets hold of those crates before us, they can back track and locate the Independence using the tag signal,” Cris added.

“When separated, it helps the ship find the crew and the crew find the ship,” Seren offered.

“So, if the Enforcers get hold of the containers, they will be able to identify you as the parties involved in the attempt, and locate the ship,” Bryan commented.

“Yes, and we don’t need to add more fuel to that fire. We have kept a low profile for some time now and don’t need or want the increased visibility,” Cris affirmed.

Bryan suspected that the failed theft attempt was not a major issue to anyone on Independence, but a perpetual locator beacon was a significant problem. He could see Aeryn was upset over her perceived error, one that put the entire crew at risk. Bryan would do his best to help recover the tracking tag and relieve her guilty conscience, if for no other reason.

“Okay, I’m in. I’m going to need to cash in some of our gold to fund this little adventure, though,” Bryan commented as he considered the logistics of robbing a highly secure US Air Force Base of six very heavy crates.

----*----

Bryan’s house, Earth

Over the next few days, Bryan and the others struggled to devise a plan to transport them in and out of Area 51 safely, while also securing possession of the cargo they wanted. He had learned that their previous attempt had them drop in from above in the dead of night to secret themselves into the secure warehouse holding the boxes.

To bypass the security systems, they wore suits that scrambled motion detectors, masked body heat sensors, and rerouted laser and infrared beams. Antigravity technology reduced movement vibration, and even video motion was deterred by converting reflected light into the non-visible spectrum. The last technology helped with the roving sentries, as it interfered with the human visual cortex, if observed at all, but only at the closest distances. If you stood still, you became invisible.

Bryan quickly realized none of this would help them remove the crates from storage. Every angle he explored all came back to the same issue. Six crates and four bodies didn’t add up, and adding a few more individuals from Independence didn’t help the math. All the fancy technology they used to hide themselves from the security systems didn’t include the crates once they were on the move. That had been what tripped them up last time.

They needed a way to move the boxes that wasn’t secret, was out in the open, and was acceptable to those they wished to avoid.

“We need to rethink this operation. We should not be focusing on stealing the boxes. We want them to give the crates to us voluntarily,” Bryan announced.

“And why would they do that?” Aeryn asked in irritation, her long hours at his side beginning to take their toll.

“Because we asked them to,” Bryan replied as he wrote feverishly on one of the notepads.

Once the answer hit him, he needed to review the operation details to ensure they had everything they needed.

“I am still not understanding how you intend to remove the crates from the facility?” Seren asked in confusion,

“I intend to drive them right out the front gate,” Bryan replied with a smile.

Chapter 21

Area 51 main gate

“Major, I need to confirm these orders before you can pass,” the Air Force MP supplied as the four sat in the truck they had acquired for the attempted robbery.

Other MPs held their weapons casually around the armored truck, but Bryan could see they were alert and observing those in the vehicle. He sat in the passenger seat as Cris sat behind the wheel of the armored vehicle, both doing their best to look bored. Aeryn and Seren were in the truck's rear cargo space, and the small window between the front and rear compartments was open for all to hear. The dark, cold night air under a clear sky helped to mask any deficiencies they might have overlooked in disguising their vehicle.

Bryan had purchased an old Brinks truck and then repainted it in a military scheme. Should they be queried, the plates and ID numbers painted on the vehicle would all pass as legitimate. It had taken several days of practice before Cris proved comfortable and competent enough to drive. The reason for this was that Bryan needed to be the ranking member of the party, as he was the only one who spoke English, and their leader would not be expected to act as a driver for the others.

It had been decided that Bryan would receive a promotion to USMC Major. At the same time, Aeryn would be demoted to USMC First Lieutenant, from Independence First Officer, to act as his aide. Cris was uniformed as a staff sergeant, and poor Seren, doctor and sophisticate, was to be a corporal and low man on the totem pole. Bryan had considered making her a sergeant, but her baby face and overall youthful appearance made the choice problematic and likely to invite conversation on the subject.

Bryan needed the others to be invisible to those around them, and just another corporal would blend into the background. As added insurance, he had her and Aeryn use makeup to downplay their appearance, as he didn’t need any of the male security chatting them up in search of a date.

Bryan visited the surplus store in town and had secured uniforms with all the proper badges and insignia to pass as Marines, with Cris and Seren carrying the additional MP armbands. As the service he knew best, they figured it was the safest rather than trying to pass as Army or Air Force personnel. It was also not unusual to use Marines for special duties like the one he had concocted.

Aeryn and Bryan were in their officer Alpha uniforms, consisting of green coats and trousers over a kaki-colored long-sleeved shirt. At the same time, Cris and Seren wore the enlisted Bravos, long-sleeved shirts without jackets. The cold desert air didn’t affect the three aliens, while Bryan was thankful for the additional warmth of his uniform jacket.

All four carried the standard-issue Sig Sauer M18 sidearm. Bryan purchased a single civilian version called a P320, and Azizi replicated it. The team was to appear as a DARPA or  Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency unit. Their role in the US government was as a department focused on developing breakthrough technologies for national security. Kylo had breached the military computer network, and with Bryan at his side, the proper identification paperwork and personnel files were forged and placed in the system. To any human in the US military, it would appear legit.

The orders Bryan had provided allowed the vehicle and its occupants to be permitted access to gather specific items from storage for transfer to another testing facility. The documents and clearances were all legitimate, albeit fictitious in issuance. Bryan marveled at Kylo's ability to hack through human computer systems. He suspected that it was an everyday activity for Enforcers to be inserted into the human population, and this provided them with all the necessary identification papers.

Should anyone choose to question the orders, they would find all the proper computerized records with the appropriate approvals, and the fact that the approvers did not know of their participation would be irrelevant.

“It all checks out, Sir, you can proceed. Here is a base map, and I have highlighted the route. You are looking for C45. Please do not deviate from your course as it upsets the security patrols,” the Airman explained with a smile.

Bryan thanked the man and nodded. Acknowledging the salute the guard gave him, he paused before waving Cris to pull forward. Passing through the open gate and past the barriers, Bryan directed Cris to their destination, not wanting to deviate from the approved path and thus draw unwanted attention.

“Stop here,” Bryan ordered when they were about halfway to their destination.

“What’s wrong?” Cris asked, as he did as instructed.

“Let me drive from here, we are probably going to need to back into a loading dock while they retrieve the boxes, and you didn’t excel at moving in reverse,” Bryan joked as the two men swapped places.

“You mean they will bring us the crates, deliver them?” Aeryn asked in astonishment through the window.

“Yes, they don’t want us wandering through these buildings, though our clearances would permit it. As it is, I don’t want them to hear you speak, or we are all in trouble. I don’t think I can explain Intergalactic Standard to anyone, especially if it sounds like Russian or Arabic to them,” he confirmed as he headed to the warehouse.

As it turned out, it was a good thing Bryan had taken the wheel, as the destination was not what he expected. Reaching a ramp that led them into an underground tunnel, Bryan could see large metal doors all lettered and numbered to prevent confusion about their location. Lord only knew what each barrier concealed, and the segregation prevented anyone but the occupants from seeing the activities within.

“That’s it,” Cris exclaimed as he pointed to their left, where a set of doors had a huge C45 painted on their surface.

Cris didn’t need to read English to match the characters on the sheet the guard provided.

“MP shack must have called ahead,” Bryan replied as the doors began to open once they neared.

Entering the open space, it was large enough to allow the truck to back into a single loading bay, where another roll-up door sat closed and two armed guards stood patiently. Once Bryan was satisfied that he had the truck in the right place, he and Cris exited the front.

“Remember, only I talk, no one else makes a sound. Just nod and point to me if someone asks anything,” Bryan reminded them before leaving the cab.

“Yes, master,” Seren replied sarcastically.

Wordlessly, Cris went to the rear and opened the doors where both Aeryn and Seren exited, rifles slung over their shoulders, and all three stood to one side as Bryan climbed the steps to the loading area. The three aliens, all armed with the weapons Bryan had acquired, eyed the guards as they waited.

Just like every other loading bay he had ever seen, the bed of the armored car sat near the level of the concrete curb. There was a good eight feet of flat between the steel doors that opened to the building and their transport.

“Your paperwork, sir?” one of the guards requested as he eyed Bryan’s uniform and ignored the others.

Bryan knew the man was assessing him as he scanned the fruit salad on his left breast. Each ribbon there told the story of the man's experience inside the uniform, and Bryan understood he was being judged. He had taken great care in selecting what awards and ribbons to include in the mix, choosing only items that wouldn’t mark him as exceptional or inexperienced.

“One moment, sir,” the man stated, apparently satisfied with the paperwork.

Turning, he typed in a sequence on the keypad, and the massive metal door began to roll upward, revealing a second man with a clipboard. A line of forklifts behind him each held a single box, the target of this effort.

“Major, are you the DARPA guy?” an Air Force Captain asked as he took the paperwork from the guard.

The man scanned the sheet and then looked up, a tinge of doubt crossing his face.

“Guilty as charged,” Bryan replied as he waited for the captain to review the orders.

Bryan understood he could play this situation one of two ways. Either he could be the stiff ass By the Book Marine or the easy-going officer that the lower ranks appreciated as approachable. One would keep the chit chat to a minimum and possibly inspire the captain to move him along his way as quickly as possible, but it could backfire as the captain could nitpick him to death with process and procedure if irritated.

The other approach might grease the wheels, but it would also open the door to casual conversations that only Bryan could engage in. He remembered meeting Aeryn for the first time, and whatever the language was, she spoke it natively, which wasn’t explainable here. Bryan decided a little showboating might be the best way to convince the captain they were the real deal.

“What is your clearance level?” Bryan asked as he scanned the others.

“Everyone here has Top Secret with SCI,” the captain answered while pointing to the guards and the forklift operators.

Bryan knew that SCI stood for Sensitive Compartmented Information, and it was a subset of Top Secret clearance that required additional controls on the dissemination of information. People with SCI access had to demonstrate a need to know where they worked.

“Have the operators drop the boxes there and then send the drivers away,” he instructed as he waved at the forklifts waiting to deliver all six crates.

“How are you planning on loading these without the forklifts?” the man asked as he waved at the others to do as instructed.

“Wait and see,” Bryan replied with a smile.

Once everyone had dropped their load and returned to the bowels of the facility, Bryan motioned for Cris to begin loading.

“Get ready to be impressed. What you are about to witness is not for discussion. These are DARPA prototypes, and we are combining the testing and functionality efforts with this pickup,” Bryan explained.

“Go ahead,” Bryan ordered while waving at Cris and Seren with Aeryn doing her best to look important.

The two attached the antigravity clamps to the first crate, and as it began to float about a foot off the floor, all three Air Force personnel did their best to hide their surprise. Bryan could tell the captain was bursting to ask questions, but all knew that was not allowed under the circumstances. Bryan put on a bit of a show, all intended to sell their story.

“The clamps generate a field that dampens the effects of Earth’s gravity and allows us to move heavy items as if they floated on a cushion of air. Mind you, they don’t remove the inertial forces involved. Mass is still in place, and you could be crushed between the crate and the truck, so we move carefully,” Bryan commented as they worked.

Aeryn stood nearby, holding one of the rifles and looking menacing. He knew her translator allowed her to understand the conversation, but her silence contributed to the impression that she was there for business.

“Well, Captain, I thank you for your cooperation, remember, it never happened,” Bryan confirmed as he waved at the last floating box slipping inside the armored truck.

“Sir,” the captain replied as he saluted and took Bryan’s handshake.

“Don’t work too hard,” Bryan replied, waving the others into the truck and taking the wheel, he departed the area as quickly as he could without raising suspicions.

Chapter 22

Bryan’s House, Earth

“Well, that was a job well done,” Cris declared as the four sat celebrating in the living room.

“I can’t believe they let us drive right in there and then helped us load the crates,” Seren remarked as she sipped her drink.

The trip from Nevada back to Arizona had been expedited when Zaim and Kylo showed up in a shuttle. The truck was far too large to fit inside, but the judicious use of a tractor beam and a steady speed through the darkness had them back home in a little over an hour. As the truck wasn’t aerodynamically designed for such speeds, Bryan suspected the shuttle had a means of enveloping the flying brick beneath it in a protective bubble.

During their trip to the market earlier in the week to buy food after arriving, Bryan had selected a varied offering of beverages, unsure of what the others could drink and what to avoid. Beer and wine were the proposed indulgences, with a smattering of soft drinks and juices considered the nonintoxicating alternatives. He had a well-stocked bar filled with hard liquors from around the world, but that was intended to impress guests, as Bryan didn’t indulge all that often.

Light experimentation in the beginning uncovered that the Cheizat physiology tolerated alcohol relatively well. Still, the carbonation in the soft drinks and sparkling water proved better than tequila at messing with their minds. After two colas, Aeryn was giggling and Seren was amorous. Cris was less impacted, with his human side tempering the effects.

“One thing you need to know about Earth is that the right paperwork will get you almost anything, but file the wrong form, and they will hunt you down,” Bryan joked.

“On that note, you removed the tag?” Cris asked Aeryn, noting the reference to being hunted.

Bryan knew he was referring to the tracking tag they had placed on one of the crates in their last attempt to recover the illicit payroll. While the funds were a massive boost to their ever-increasing wealth, that tracking tag inspired the urgency of this effort.

“Yes, I did it on the way here,” she confirmed as she held up the small device for all to see.

A knock on the front door caused the group to halt their celebration and pause, waiting for the second rap that confirmed they had a visitor. Jumping from his seat as the others watched, Bryan crossed over and opened the door. Before him was a familiar face in an Enforcer uniform.

“Hello, Bryan,” Wyndom stated with a smile.

Looking past the woman at the door, Bryan couldn’t see anyone else in the darkness, but he had little doubt she wasn’t here alone.

“May I come in?” she asked politely, waiting patiently for him to reply.

“Please,” he answered automatically as he looked to Aeryn for support.

Escorting Wyndom into the living room, he began to speak before the Enforcer Colonel beat him to the punch.

“Aeryn, a pleasure to see you again, and this must be Seren and Captain Cris of the starship Independence,” the woman proclaimed as she motioned to each.

“And you are?” Seren asked, bewildered at the familiarity.

“This is Colonel Wyndom, the Enforcer officer we rescued from the pirate base,” Aeryn explained.

Seren’s face went noticeably pale at the revelation. As all in the room had death sentences hanging over their heads, this did not bode well for the small group. The fact that an entire Enforcer squad hadn’t rushed the house, guns blazing, was surprising, especially considering Bryan’s reputation within the alien organization.

“May I get you a drink?” Bryan asked, unsure of what was happening, but not abandoning his manners.

“A white wine would be nice. I avoid anything with bubbles here,” she replied with a smile.

“Please take a seat,” Bryan offered before heading into the kitchen.

The comment convinced Bryan that the woman had been to Earth before, given her familiarity with the impact of such beverages on their species.

“How did you find us?” Aeryn asked, unsure of what else to say.

“Since our last meeting, I’ve been waiting for your arrival, dear,” she replied.

“I recognized you the day of my rescue. Your case was familiar to me as I found it fascinating that you would challenge the status quo and risk a death sentence for women and children who were strangers to you. I am not sure I would have done the same, but I admire you for your conviction. We are warriors, not executioners, and I think too many forget that,” she explained as she spoke to Aeryn, with the last comment coming with some emphasis.

“So, you knew who we were all along?” Bryan asked as he delivered her drink.

“Not you. I had no idea who you were until I got back and did some digging. Your image from E857-C does not do you justice,” she commented as she accepted the drink.

“It gives me nightmares,” Aeryn commented softly.

“You and many others,” Wyndom said with a nod before sipping at the wine.

“Why are you here, Colonel?” Cris asked, getting to the point.

“To collect the recovered payroll, why else?” Wyndom replied as if schooling a child.

“No other reason?” Aeryn added.

“I owe you a debt of honor, which can only be repaid as a life for a life. I am sure I would have died had you two not come along, and were you less than honorable, you might have left me to my fate,” she explained.

“It was Bryan’s idea to save you, you know,” Aeryn offered.

Bryan could see the references to the activities on E857-C sat heavy in the room, and she was working to elevate his standing.

“I am not surprised. It seems that is his motivation in life. He rescued you, he rescued me, you all rescued miners. It explains, if not justifies, his actions against overwhelming odds and circumstances in all cases,” she replied.

“Aeryn wasn’t just along for the ride,” Bryan offered, not wishing his companion’s efforts on the pirate planet to be overlooked.

“So, you don’t condemn his actions from before?” Seren asked, slightly surprised at the Enforcer officer’s comments.

“I can hardly condemn the actions of a primitive human on an alien world trying to survive,” she replied with a hint of humor.

Bryan was sure he had just been insulted, but dared not say anything that might inspire anger. The situation seemed friendly, and he wanted it to stay that way.

“But how did you know we are here?” Cris asked pointedly, redirecting the conversation back to the subject at hand.

“I know Aeryn’s file very well, having followed what we know of her exploits after she escaped from captivity. You all became a bit of a fascination to me, as unlike so many who go to ground after going outlaw, reports of your activities bordered on humanitarian efforts in the jobs you worked over the cycles. The more I learned of your ship and crew, the more I understood your motives and how they came into conflict with the present government,” she offered.

“And?” Aeryn pressed.

“And I recalled you attempted to recover the payroll containers, not so long ago. At least I assumed it was you. That effort coincidentally paralleled the death of four bounty hunters and three enforcers. All killed, not with blasters, but with projectiles fired from primitive human weapons. The kind of weapons used here on Earth, by humans, and on the pirate planet by you,” she replied while looking at Bryan.

“If it works, it's not primitive,” he replied, not seeing the point of denying the observation.

“The bounty hunters were written off as human interference, two separate instances in as many sols, but the events on the moon were another affair. It was suggested that the enforcer squad ran afoul of someone with souvenirs from a trip to Earth, and the images captured showed two suited figures similar to you two,” Wyndom replied as she pointed to Aeryn and Bryan.

“We get into trouble together often, it seems,” Aeryn said.

“The three incidents were not associated, at least not by anyone but me, so far as I know,” Wyndom explained.

Bryan had never considered the relevance of each encounter involving a different gun. The first pair of bounty hunters were on the receiving end of his 300 Blackout’s two hundred and twenty grain slugs, while the second pair that jumped him did so when he wielded his 45. The three enforcers on the moon all encountered his 10-millimeter rounds. From any outsider, the only thing in common to all the shootings was that no energy weapons were involved.

“About that time, residual energy signatures were detected from the human military installation that indicated someone from off-world had accessed the location, unauthorized to do so,” she continued.

“How did you know we failed?” Cris asked.

“Scanning confirmed all the artifacts recovered from the crash were still secured within the human secure storage. We do track these things, you know,” she replied calmly.

“Why do I feel like this was a setup?” Bryan asked as the Colonel sipped her drink.

“It was an opportunity too good to pass up, to see if adding a human to the mix would aid in your efforts. I am impressed with your success, as we could never have pulled it off,” she offered.

“Does the money mean that much to you?” Seren asked, as if the sum was pocket change to the government.

“Were we able to, we would like to recover everything the humans have in their possession. It’s not the money, it’s the principle. Besides closing out the cases of theft and desertion, leaving advanced technology in the hands of primitive cultures is frowned upon,” she explained.

“What now?” Cris asked as Bryan was sure the question was foremost on everyone’s mind.

“Now I call in my people, we take the six payroll containers and leave,” she answered flatly.

“And us?” Aeryn asked.

“You all go on your merry way, your service to the Enforcers and the government quietly paid in goodwill and self-satisfaction,” she replied.

“How are you going to explain it?” Bryan questioned.

“You have provided me with the perfect cover. We detected the humans transporting the cases and grabbed them, truck and all,” she said with a smile.

“No finder’s fee then?” Seren asked, irritated.

“How can I pay a fee to someone who was never here?” Wyndom answered.

“Seren, we don’t need the money,” Bryan commented.

“Yes, but like she said, it’s the principle of the thing,” she mumbled.

“I see no issues with the arrangement so long as we can leave unchallenged,” Cris agreed.

Bryan struggled with the question he was burning to ask and finally decided to throw caution to the wind.

“Wyndom, I have to ask you something, as you know about E857-C,” he began.

Bryan saw both Cris and Aeryn noticeably wince at the question.

“Yes,” she replied, waiting for the rest of the question to come forth.

“You don’t seem as upset as the others who have seen the description of the events and my actions to save my crewmates,” he finished.

Wyndom paused as she considered his question and then let out a deep sigh.

“Well, to be honest, my initial opinion of the villain involved in that encounter was not at all favorable. At first, no one concerned in the after-action review could believe a single combatant could have decimated two Special Ops teams so brutally. However, after spending some time with you and seeing you in action during my rescue, I did some digging. The teams sent against you had reputations for cruelty, ruthlessness, and brutality, and I sensed a bond between you and Aeryn that must have been threatened,” she offered, looking for confirmation.

“The senior sergeant was particularly enthusiastic in the interrogation of all prisoners. The MRT got a workout upon our return,” Aeryn acknowledged in generic terms.

“I thought as much. It is a popular misconception that banishing emotion and attachment makes the Enforcers strong, but incidents like this bring that perspective into question. A lack of empathy has made us less caring and less sensitive to our actions towards others. I think your human crewmember brings those feelings to your team in spades. I see that emotion can be a strong motivator when those you care about are threatened,” Wyndom offered as she looked to Bryan.

“Or just sympathy for an unknown someone captured and beaten,” Bryan added as he referenced Wyndom’s recent experience.

“I told someone not so long ago, beware the wrath of humans, it's that attachment that makes them unpredictable and dangerous,” Aeryn confirmed without expanding on it.

----*----

Independence

It had taken them the better part of the following day to clean up and prepare Bryan’s house for vacancy. They had stayed up late that night talking to the Enforcer Colonel about the issues in their past and the likelihood that any of them might see a pardon or reprieve in the sentences. While she sympathized and suggested things were changing, she had no optimism that their current situation would improve in the eyes of the interstellar government.

While they all talked inside, Wyndom had a small team recover the six containers and depart without incident. They left the crates in the armored truck. They took everything, leaving Bryan with one less task, as disposing of the vehicle would be necessary to avoid any association with the disappearance.

At some point, the military would question the missing containers, and the investigation might lead them here. Bryan suspected the vehicle was soon to be orbiting some unknown planet, just another piece of space debris as the enforcers discarded the unneeded object out an airlock.

The Colonel departed not long after, wishing them well but cautioning them not to linger as others might come to sanitize the area, erasing any trace of off-world activity. She could not promise those individuals would turn a blind eye to their existence on Earth if they were discovered. She estimated they had a day, maybe two, to pack up and leave the solar system.

The delay was an opportunity that allowed Bryan to sort through his belongings here on Earth and select specific objects to bring along in exile. Many books, guns, and clothes were whittled down to an acceptable few, but the motorcycles were a sticking point.

The bug had bitten Aeryn after Bryan had taken her out on the smaller Honda. For pure enjoyment and adventure, the two-wheeled experience was addictive, and he understood her motivation. At first, he had wanted to bring both the larger and smaller bikes as Aeryn pressed for her own ride. They settled on taking the larger one as Bryan convinced Aeryn it could be replicated once he and Azizi modified it for use off Earth.

“How do you imagine that thing will be of any value where we are going?” Cris asked as Bryan and Aeryn pressed to bring it along.

“I don’t know for sure, but look at my Jeep. It became a great asset and was only brought aboard Independence by accident,” Bryan countered.

“And fuel for the thing?” Cris pressed.

“I am sure Azizi and I can refit it for a more compatible engine, like we did the Jeep,” he replied while scrambling for answers to satisfy the man.

In the end, Cris caved on the single motorcycle so long as Bryan agreed to keep it stored in Rogue so he wouldn’t be using up any more precious shuttle hangar floorspace. Additionally, he was permitted a military footlocker filled to capacity, the wooden crate a chest Bryan had acquired long ago. It was one of many such items he had collected over the years. Except for a few free weapons he could hand carry, everything else he wanted to bring along had to fit in the box. Ever resourceful, the human had found a way to circumvent the limitation.

“I don’t recall either of you arriving armed?” Istu asked as they loaded the shuttle with a motorcycle, the Jeep, people, and boxes.

To increase his capacity beyond the foot locker, he and Aeryn sported two side arms in holsters at their waists and two long guns slung over opposite shoulders. A shoulder holster gave him a third handgun, and Bryan had even convinced Seren to strap on one of his smaller pistols and carry a carbine, shouldered on the other side of her frame. To an outside observer, it appeared the team was headed out to war.

“We’ve come a long way from you refusing to give me my forty-five,” Bryan commented to Aeryn with a smile as the shuttle lifted off and he bid farewell to home once more.

Chapter 23

Independence in deep space

“I can’t believe that Enforcer Colonel just let you all go,” Istu commented as the crew sat in the galley while Independence was underway.

“I can't believe they took all the money,” Seren complained.

No sooner had the shuttle settled on its skids in the hangar than Zaim proclaimed they were underway and headed for deep space. Bryan couldn’t blame the pilot, as the adventure on Earth had not proven exceptionally beneficial to the rest of the crew. Still, for him, it was a chance to recover personal items left behind in haste.

While the money would have been an unimaginable windfall to the ship and crew, most did not mourn its loss. In truth, that kind of wealth inspired one to settle down and enjoy a life of ease that would condemn any of them to death should they try. Their safety lay in moving from place to place, and they already had everything they needed with Independence. A bigger ship would only add additional headaches.

“I am cautiously optimistic that we might now have an ally among the Enforcer elite,” Cris commented as he settled into a seat.

“Wyndom said something that struck me as curious,” Seren offered as they all chatted.

“Which was?” Aeryn pressed.

“She mentioned the humanitarian work we did in contradiction to the typical actions of the Enforcers,” Seren explained.

Bryan understood that what the Enforcers considered humanitarian work was far from the notion he was familiar with on Earth. Back home, it represented sending the military out to feed the hungry in a famine or provide disaster relief in hard-hit areas of the world. In the universe, that term equated to not firing on unarmed populations or of resisting the wholesale relocation of a species. Alternatives to death sentences suggested resettling colonists rather than eradication, so their planet could be used for more profitable purposes.

For Independence, the rescue of the colonists from slavery in the mines counted as humanitarian efforts in comparison to others that might have left them for dead. Payday or not, the choice to run the personal risk and save the unfortunates had been made based on the crews’ collective consciences and moral compass.

“Yes, and the lack of emotion within the ranks was another comment. She almost sounded like she preferred the human perspective on empathy and personal commitment,” Seren continued.

“Perhaps changes are coming to the Cheizat and the Enforcers?” Bryan offered.

“Not any time soon,” Aeryn replied.

“Well, all things considered, I think we might want to visit another part of the universe for a while,” Cris proposed.

“I can’t imagine Rygon is going to be heartbroken to see Independence absent from the spaceport,” Bryan agreed with a knowing smile.

After their last interaction, as a meaningless punishment, the alien mob boss had banished the Independence crew from the space station and all of its attractions. The action had no impact on the intended victims, as none had previously frequented the facility before the fateful encounter. The move was aimed at diverting the attention of other suspicious parties towards the crew in undesirable ways. While Rygon dared not threaten their lives, he could make things more difficult,

For those not in the know, it might imply they were fair game for harassment and abuse, the insinuation being they were unprotected and out of favor. For anyone familiar with the Independence and her crew, nothing changed, as all of questionable character knew they could fend for themselves quite nicely. Some might even suggest that anyone foolish enough to assume otherwise deserved a punishing response.

“Where are we headed now?” Aeryn asked Cris as she acknowledged his proposal.

“I have no idea, I told Kylo and Zaim to get us out of the sector fast to someplace where we could pause and regroup without running afoul of any Enforcer entanglements,” he replied.

----*----

Space Station Klaxion

Bryan happened to be on the bridge when Independence dropped out of jump space. The transformation from the dull gray of faster-than-light travel displayed beyond the portals to a field of stars was always abrupt, yet fascinating. It wasn’t the stars that held Bryan’s attention this time; it was the massive artificial structure in space looming dead ahead.

“Space Station Klaxion,” Cris proclaimed as he stepped through the hatch.

Unlike Space Station Gama 9, an artificial resort destination, Klaxion was more renowned as a refugee hotspot, home to displaced species from many worlds. It had a reputation for accepting anyone who could earn a living or pay their way and was just safe enough to be respectable.

“So, people live here?” Bryan asked as the others tried to explain the nature of the facility.

“Some do, others use it as a temporary layover on the way to their forever home,” Cris replied.

“To stay here, you either have enough money to pay your way or you have a profession in demand for those passing through or in residence,” Aeryn added.

Unlike Gama 9, which had been an opaque structure hiding the internal amenities, Klaxion had large transparent domes that displayed the bustling life within. Some held vegetation that implied parks or possibly farms, while other domes were bustling business districts open to the star-filled sky. Bryan imagined that it helped ease the claustrophobic nature of life in an impenetrable shell.

“Klaxion sits in a region of space devoid of habitable worlds within a reasonable jump distance in all directions. There are plenty of nearby stars, just nothing interesting circles them. Like Gama 9, that gives it a great deal of autonomy, but unlike Gama 9, there is a strong Enforcer presence. They administer the rule of intergalactic law here, but only in the most extreme cases. Mostly, they are here to collect taxes and ensure that the intergalactic trade is secure. Petty theft, graft, and corruption are left to the station security to deal with,” Kylo commented as a reminder they were not entirely outside the Enforcer influence.

“They won’t care about us, then,” Aeryn replied firmly.

“You keep telling yourself that,” Zaim said, speaking for the first time since leaving Earth.

Like Seren, the pilot had not been pleased with how things had gone on Earth, specifically the loss of the payday they were all looking forward to, such as finding hidden treasure. The revelation that the Enforcer Colonel seemed to know a great deal about Independence and her crew added to the foul mood that Zaim sported regularly.

He tried to throw cold water on Istu’s attitude that Bryan was good luck, blaming the human for the hijacked payroll, but Istu only countered that it was Bryan’s good fortune that allowed them to retrieve the payroll and depart untouched. As far as Bryan was concerned, he had come out on top with a footlocker full of his personal treasures and a sense of closure, having closed out his affairs on Earth without hurry. That was all the good luck he needed.

Zaim, on the other hand, might wish for a few good thoughts as the docking ports were packed. Ships from all over seemed to choose to lay over here as the jump distance for some could be measured in weeks, not days. Bryan heard Kylo negotiate a space a little farther out on the boom, which was to be their destination, allowing some distance between Independence and the next vessel moored to the station.

“Just get us docked without hitting anybody,” Cris instructed as he turned and headed off the bridge.

----*----

Independence Galley

“Okay, what’s the brief?” Bryan asked Aeryn as the pair sat waiting for the others to gather.

It was typical for Aeryn to give him the lay of the land whenever they traveled to someplace new, what to expect, what to avoid, and specifically if he was allowed to be armed and if so, to what extent.

“No guns, your knife is fine, but try to keep it out of sight,” she replied.

Bryan noted she still winced whenever she referred to the blade. The encounter with Wyndom had done little to exercise the demon of E857-C in her mind. If anything, it seemed to justify her aversion to the memory.

“Listen up, people,” Cris began as he entered the room.

“We should be here for the next few sols. Take advantage of the downtime, and it will give those not directly involved with the trip to Earth a chance to get off the ship and experience some leave,” he explained.

Bryan hadn’t considered that half their complement had been isolated and incapable of enjoying some time on the ground while he was home. Azizi, Kylo, Zaim, and Istu had spent the last several days on the moon waiting for the landing party to complete their attempted Area 51 heist. The disappointment at losing their prize was compounded by their mundane existence of sitting and waiting.

“I will dig into the options and see where we might want to explore our future. Be aware of your surroundings and have a good time,” he finished before excusing the crew.

Once again, Bryan found himself wandering the streets of a foreign alien community, with Seren, Istu, and Aeryn at his side. In typical fashion, Zaim and Kylo headed into the parts of the station that catered to their species preferences, and Azizi announced she had some shopping to do and would catch up with the others later.

Bryan had introduced her to the motorcycle he had stashed in Rogue, and she immediately recognized the opportunity to improve the vehicle. Bryan provided a handful of platinum, and she was open for business, off to the parts market. He might have felt bad that she was using her shore leave to do things for him, but she assured him this was what she lived for.

Looking up as they walked, he could see the field of stars beyond the overhead lighting and transparent dome panels. This dome was focused on commercial businesses, the shops and street vendors all hawking their wares in a manner reminiscent of a bazaar.

“You can always tell the new arrivals from the more established merchants,” Seren commented as she pointed to those around them.

“Seren is right, the newest vendors typically have makeshift stands until they can rent an open stall or building as they become available. More established businesses can afford higher rent and have nicer accommodations. It’s a progression, each moving up in stature and location,” Aeryn confirmed.

“Unless you roll in here with a bag of coins and can jump the line,” Istu commented.

“What happens to those that arrive here without means or a valuable trade?” Bryan asked.

“They don’t last a len. The locals are always on the lookout for those not carrying their weight and report any vagrants to the authorities promptly. They are viewed as liabilities and rounded up before they can find a place to hide,” Aeryn explained.

“What then?” Bryan persisted.

“Most are shipped out on the first available craft as crew. Some find themselves forced into billets on cargo vessels or transports as laborers or stewards. Making beds or cleaning galleys doesn’t take an advanced education,” Seren commented sourly.

The response revealed a tinge of the superiority complex Bryan associated with the little blonde doctor. He had always suspected Seren came from upper-class money, and references like this reinforced the snobby opinions. Her disappointment at the loss of funds on Earth added to his suspicions that she missed the good old days of luxury and opulence. She had a good heart at her core, but viewed others through the filtered lens of privilege.

“What about us?” Bryan asked, suddenly aware that they were held to the same scrutiny as the people they were discussing.

“We don’t count. We arrived in our own ship, which makes us better off than many of the locals already here. Our status is that of prey to their predator. The locals see us as a source of income as they try to sell their junk. We have the coin they desire, which makes us valuable in their eyes,” Istu commented pessimistically.

Bryan laughed as he considered the differences in his companions. Seren, the social climber and elitist; Aeryn, the disciplined purveyor of structured violence; and Istu, the most direct and down-to-earth alien on the crew, who understood the universe in the context of how much things cost him.

“Where to then?” Aeryn asked her companions.

The time on Earth had satisfied Bryan’s need for open spaces, so the agriculture domes providing natural settings were more of a novelty to him than a need to escape the confines of Independence. He had also convinced Cris to allow several boxes of canned and packaged food outside his locker limit. That meant the bars and restaurants were also a low-priority destination.

“Azizi is doing some shopping for me, and I brought a lot back from Earth, so I don’t need to hit the merchant district. What do they do for fun here?” he offered.

“This place isn’t a vacation destination, so don’t get your hopes up,” Seren replied.

“How did this thing get here? I mean, it’s not a pleasure palace like Gama 9, so it’s more of a supply depot and travelers' rest stop,” Bryan asked, referring to the space station's location in the universe.

“Find a need and fill it,” Seren offered cryptically.

“Like we mentioned, the Klaxion station exists in a void far from any habitable world. Stars with orbiting planets exist, but none can support a self-sustaining environment. Mining and underground colonies comprise the greatest share of occupied worlds in this sector, with little or no breathable atmosphere. This station originated as a supply depot, serving outposts and government patrol ships that required restocking of provisions and maintenance. As the needs of the region grew, so did the station until it became a community of its own,” Aeryn expanded.

For Bryan, one surprise on the shore leave docket was that neither Aeryn nor Seren had offered to recreate with him while here. Even though he and Seren had slept in the same bed the entire time they spent on Earth, none of the usual shenanigans had occurred. Now, with the same attitude on Klaxion, he wondered if his novelty was beginning to wear off on the women, and he was becoming just plain old Bryan.

Seren was the first of the three to leave their little group, making excuses that she needed to secure medical supplies and didn’t want to bore the others with the chore. Bryan wondered where the woman really went, but honored her privacy and didn’t pry. Istu quickly followed as they neared the entertainment zone. Most businesses there catered to space crews, intent on letting off steam after extended periods in transit and far from home.

“Okay, enough education, I’m going to do something enjoyable,” Istu proclaimed as he wandered away from the others and headed to the closest brothel.

Neither Bryan nor Aeryn had a doubt where the Yozus was headed and didn’t want to know more about it. Bryan was somewhat curious about how the enterprises operated, but not enough to risk exposure as a human. Besides, that wasn’t an itch he needed scratched.

Aeryn and Bryan continued for a while longer, wandering among the shops and open-air stalls until they reached the far side of the open square. The dome had been laid out so that the shoppers could wander the concentric circles until they reached the center. Here, they found a small plaza that hosted seating for those weary from shopping or just looking for a place to pause in their efforts.

“I need to go take care of some personal business,” Aeryn suddenly declared.

“It’s about time you adventured off on your own, a bit of a rite of passage,” Aeryn commented as she made excuses for her departure.

“Remember, if you decide to follow Istu, don’t get naked,” she teased as she pointed to his chest.

While he had no intention of pursuing such diversions, he hadn’t forgotten about his chest hair problem. By now, that novelty had worn off with the females of Independence and was treated as a matter of fact. Here, on this station, he could be called out over it, an attention he didn’t find appealing.

As he wandered alone, the crowd watching overtook his focus as the need for interesting new toys was muted by the addition of his recovered personal items from Earth. Locating a table near the central plaza in the entertainment zone where Istu disappeared, he sat down and ordered a drink. People watching might have been a very loose term, as many of the species he observed were unrecognizable to him. It seemed Klaxion existed in a region of the universe where the more traditional bipedal life forms were in the minority.

The only common trait these species shared was that they could all exist in the breathable atmosphere within the domes and passages of this portion of the station. Aeryn had explained earlier, before turning him loose, that he needed to restrict his travels to areas of the station marked with a specific symbol.

A placard was plastered all over the station outlining the various zones supporting life consistent with his physiology, versus those intended for non-air breathers. Airlocks between each habitable section allowed species to pass from place to place, provided they had the proper attire to support the areas they intended to visit. For those ignoring the safeguards, a strangling death was waiting for them on the other side of the barrier.

Environmental suits could be rented just outside the interlocks for those unprepared for the crossing, but Bryan wasn’t willing to risk his life on borrowed gear from an unfamiliar source. As it was, the lobster, slug, and fur-bearing aliens held his attention for over an hour as he tried to avoid being caught staring. Here, he was seeing some species for the very first time, and he wished he had a field guide to aliens to identify each as they passed by.

Then a group of humanoid people, likely Cheizat, passed him by, all dressed up and looking to party. On a whim, he followed the small group into a part of the station that was less obvious in its services. Unlike the area he had just vacated, with its stalls and vendors pressing their wares on those passing by, this zone was a series of unadvertised doors, all with a doorman standing out front to greet guests and shoo away some as unwanted patrons.

Different species manned the access portals, and he suspected that whatever was hidden behind the locked doors was how customers identified which ones were for them and which should be passed over. The fact that some customers of the same species were being turned away intrigued him, and so he followed the Cheizat party at a discreet distance. He watched as a verbal exchange was engaged at the door, and then the doorman ushered them inside with a smile.

“Sorry, I’m late. I am with them,” Bryan offered as he hurried up before the door closed.

“You still need to respond to the challenge,” the man replied as he quickly closed the opening while looking him up and down with disdain.

Bryan was a good head taller than the man, and his height difference had the doorman giving him the once-over, as if appraising his lineage. In addition, Bryan hadn’t dressed for a fine dining experience, the assumption he made after watching the party before him pass inside. Bryan worried that if he did get past the doorman, he wouldn’t be able to read a menu, regardless of the clothes he was wearing; it was just a curiosity visit for him.

Asking Bryan an inane question, Bryan’s sarcastic reply was sure to get him turned away, but the answer seemed to satisfy the man as he smiled and nodded in agreement. Silently, he opened the door and allowed him to pass unrestricted. Entering the room beyond it took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. As it did, it was Bryan’s turn to be surprised.

This wasn’t a restaurant, as he had expected. It had all the trappings of a party. A bigger surprise was one guest who stood before him. Standing across the room was Seren in an outfit he had never seen before. Not exceptionally provocative, like the one she wore at the casino, it was unusual. If he had to describe it, he would have said sophisticated, elegant, and with a touch of exclusivity. She had a drink in one hand and was talking intently with another woman, who was just as decked out as she was.

“Is there something I can do for you?” another woman asked as she slid up to Bryan with the ease and grace of a dancer.

It was a bit disconcerting as she looked him over like a predator looking for easy prey. She was attractive, and for a moment, Bryan wondered what all her offer entailed.

“I’m new here,” Bryan replied without going into great detail.

As he had no clue where he was or the nature of the establishment, he figured less is more. His plan worked as the woman appeared unfazed by the admission and continued as if it were business as usual.

“That is not uncommon, Klaxion has such a transient population, we have very few regulars,” she replied pleasantly.

“Can I get you a drink?” she pressed as she waved at one of the servants roving the room.

“Do you know either of those females?” Bryan queried as he motioned toward Seren and her companion while avoiding a pointed finger.

“No, should I?” she asked casually as she snatched a glass from the server for herself, and she passed one to Bryan.

With no idea what the liquid was, he accepted the offering but held off sampling the drink.

“I thought I recognized one of them, but you know how embarrassing it is not to remember someone’s name at such gatherings,” Bryan explained, trying to appear relaxed as he passed on the offered beverage to another waiter.

In truth, he felt a bit awkward as the experience reminded him of a cocktail party, and he hadn’t been invited and was underdressed for the occasion. His attire, while neat and clean, was out of sorts compared to the others in the room. However, if anyone objected to his presence, they never voiced the opinion, and those who didn’t return his smile turned away as if they had never seen him.

“You come here often?” Bryan asked as he tried to make conversation while avoiding anything specific.

“Not as much as I would like,” she replied with a look of curiosity on her face.

Bryan figured her to be Cheizat, her loveliness rivaling anyone in the room. Overall, the race produced male and female examples of what humans would call classic beauties, typical of the race. Even the Enforcers who had tried to kill him were of exceptional appearance; they were vicious, but they looked good doing it.

At one point, Seren paused in her conversation, taking a moment to scan the room. When her gaze settled on Bryan and his companion, her eyes went wide with panic, and she quickly excused herself. Bryan almost laughed at the speed she crossed the room toward him.

“Excuse me, but it appears I was right,” Bryan offered as he touched her arm and left the woman’s side to meet Seren halfway.

“Bryan, you shouldn’t be here. How did you find me?” Seren hissed as she tried to usher him to the door.

“I didn’t try to find you. I was exploring Klaxion alone, and my feet led me here. That’s what happens when you leave me unsupervised. What is this place?” he asked as he diverted her efforts to one side of the room away from the exit.

Seren was openly frustrated with the situation, but she could see that Bryan would not budge until he got an explanation.

“You are aware of my physical needs, quite intimately to be sure. Well, this is the other side of my personality. Cheizat males and females come here to engage in intellectual entanglements that feed the need for sophisticated cerebral interactions,” she offered.

“Fucking mind games,” Bryan summed up the explanation.

“Crude, as usual, but accurate. We derive pleasurable physiological stimuli while engaging in intense mental sparing. True satisfaction is achieved by outthinking your partner, and the rush is exhilarating,” she blushed at the confession.

“So, it's polite snobby one-upmanship,” Bryan translated.

“Of a sort,” Seren snapped, not appreciating Bryan’s simplistic view of her world.

“Does Aeryn or Cris participate in this?” he asked as he considered the first officer and captain in comparison to those in attendance here.

While he could imagine Cris in a fine suit bantering with those around him, Aeryn wasn’t coming to mind as someone who would value this environment. While she would shine among the females present, he couldn’t see her having the patience to deal with the subterfuge.

“Not that I am aware of. The participants here exhibit a certain class distinction, and their roles in Cheizat society suggest that they were not encouraged to push beyond their targeted classification. The medical, political, and general scientific roles offered an elevated status in Cheizat society, so we pursued more refined interests. You might call us the cream of Cheizat society,” she whispered while scanning the room nervously, as if worried she would be called out for her underdressed companion.

Bryan detected the note of superiority and wondered if the doctor was embarrassed to be seen with him in this crowd. He could see she was struggling with the thought of him outing her among her peers. No matter how ridiculous the story sounded, it was undeniable that it was important to her, and as such, he forced himself to be more serious. That didn’t prevent him from poking her just a bit.

“Is this where you disappear to when we find shore leave? Do the others know about your extracurricular activities?” Bryan teased as he scanned the room, checking out the participants.

“Not all places we go sponsor these clubs, only the more civilized stops, like Pantera Minor. And yes, when we stop someplace where one exists, I come and exercise my mental demons, just like you and I do our physical needs,” she replied softly as she stroked one arm in an unconscious gesture.

“And no, so far as I know, only you now know my deepest, darkest secret,” she added with a pleading look.

“Why keep it a secret? It seems harmless,” he pressed as it appeared to him as nothing more than an arrogant nerd club on steroids.

By Bryan’s estimation, this was the equivalent of being a Mensa or Prometheus society member on Earth. Here, however, there seemed to be a stigma to the membership. He was also intrigued by her references to the pleasure response they experienced with the interactions. It was like mental masturbation in public, and it sounded hilarious to watch.

“These clubs are not legal in most areas, like here. They were banned long ago after several influential Cheizat leaders were ejected for substandard intellectual abilities. They were found to be wanting, and the action was publicly humiliating. The backlash at their disgrace was swift and spiteful, with the offending parties severely punished and the practice outlawed,” she explained.

It confirmed to Bryan that it was just one more unjust action taken by those in power because they were excluded from a private club.

“So?” he replied, unconvinced of the danger as the gathering was well attended.

“So, it also holds a bit of a stigma to be outed as a participant. Those who partake are considered snobs and elitists to the rest of the general Cheizat society. Members have been known to be publicly ridiculed and excluded from jobs and promotions after being exposed,” she expanded.

“Seren, to be clear, it’s no secret. I have known you are a snob for a long time, and this hardly compares to your death sentence,” Bryan offered softly.

Bryan thought she might have been offended at his statement until a slight smile crept onto her face. He had an impression that the comment was taken as a compliment.

“Noted. I have no idea how you managed to get in, though, weren’t you stopped and questioned at the door?” she asked in bewilderment, the retort suggesting he wasn’t smart enough to be there.

“I was, and the doorman asked me the stupidest question. If that was your idea of intelligence, then the bar is not set very high,” Bryan confirmed.

“And that was?” she paused, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“He asked me the number of primitive worlds still waiting for inclusion into the intergalactic union,” Bryan answered.

“And you replied?” Seren asked as the question seemed to be one she didn’t know the answer to.

“I said it’s a trick question because no one of importance cares,” Bryan said with a smile.

Chapter 24

Independence

The Independence crew took several days' leave on Klaxion as they pondered their next destination. After Bryan’s encounter with Seren at the Cheizat nerd club, as he called it, he left her to exercise her demons and returned to his cabin aboard the ship. After spending time on Earth, he didn’t feel the need to avoid Independence, and the familiarity of his cabin was comforting.

The weapons he had been able to bring with him were all stored in every possible location, with the drawers under his bunk piled full. In the end, he had convinced Aeryn to secure several items in her room, ensuring they were models she was familiar with to aid in her comfort and avoid accidental discharges should she become curious and experiment. She agreed that access to firearms that could punch holes in the ship was best served by those who knew how to handle them.

In one corner of his cabin sat the foot locker he had been permitted to bring along. The food he had chosen, all canned or prepackaged for long-term storage, had been moved to the galley. It was stashed in a particular cabinet that told the others they best talk to him first, lest they risk their dietary health. In truth, Bryan wouldn’t care if someone decided to try any of it, but as he had learned himself, experimentation could lead to sickness or even death when it came to interspecies meals.

The others had selected to spend the night and sleep on the station, a move that Bryan understood as their cabins were not as new to them as his was. He was sure there would come a time soon when he, too, would choose a night or two away just for a change of scenery.

As he worked, he had left the door open in case anyone still aboard wanted to stop by for a chat.

“Bryan, can I come in?” Azizi asked as she stood in the doorway.

“Please,” he replied, noting that the engineer was dressed for a change.

The fact that she wore her jumpsuit implied she had just returned from a trip to the station marketplace, where she had offered to acquire the equipment Bryan needed to upgrade the Honda for use in places it was never intended to go. He appreciated her efforts on his behalf and wondered what he could do to repay her kindness.

“I wanted to tell you that I couldn’t find everything we needed here for what we discussed,” she began nervously.

He and Azizi had talked over the changes Bryan had envisioned for the two-wheeled addition. Like the Jeep, he was expecting to swap out the engine for a more appropriate power plant, but the rest of the bike was to remain unchanged. The one undecided issue was whether the transmission could be retained or if a variable speed motor that incorporated rotation and shifting in one unit was needed.

“I guess we will just have to wait then,” he started to reply.

“Oh no, we won’t. I have found an alternative to the design that I think is an inspiration, it’s just a little different from what you envisioned,” she explained cautiously.

Bryan knew the female engineer was brilliant and trusted she could "Improvise, Adapt, and Overcome" as they said in the Marines, but her creativity sometimes came at a cost. Ultimately, he decided to throw caution to the wind and let her run with the idea.

“Okay, do what you think is best, just remember the key here is to maintain the rider’s experience. These are used for fun, and as such, different is not necessarily better,” he cautioned as he saw her face light up.

“Oh, and keep the old parts just in case,” he added as she spun in place and hurried away.

“I just hope you know what you are doing,” he muttered as he feared what he had just unleashed.

----*----

Klaxion Space Station

After Azizi left his cabin, Bryan decided to leave his room and return to the space station. He had a burning desire to go through the contents of his foot locker once more, but reasoned that once they left Klaxion, he would have ample time to rummage and organize in transit to their next destination.

No sooner had he reentered the zone that catered to food services than he ran into Cris and Aeryn sitting outside in front of what Bryan assumed was a café. Tables with food and drink, utilizing service robots, lined this part of the green space, and the two appeared deep in conversation until the captain recognized Bryan’s familiar face.

“Bryan, sit,” Cris announced as he pointed to an unoccupied chair at their table.

“Am I intruding?” he asked as he took the offered chair.

“Not at all, Aeryn and I were just discussing our options for the near future. It’s good to get your opinion as I haven’t seen any of the others,” he added as he pressed the service button on the tabletop.

Bryan noted that he hadn’t seen Seren since the nerd club, a secret they now shared, and Zaim and Kylo hadn’t returned to the ship last night, so he had no idea where the pair had gone. Everyone assumed Istu was still in the entertainment zone and, as such, Bryan wasn’t remotely interested in the details of his latest adventure. With Azizi back aboard doing who knows what to the Honda, it appeared Cris currently only controlled half his crew.

He wasn’t concerned, though, as he knew a single recall message would have everyone front and center, in less than an hour and much sooner if it was flagged as urgent.

“By the way, we have a buyer here for the ore. I need to get with the others for delivery,” Cris commented, referring to the crates in the shuttle bay holding the latest mining effort from Earth.

“Doesn’t Azizi need to mess with it a bit to hide the source?” he asked, recalling the last time they sold the valuable minerals.

“Yes, she does,” was his simple reply as he smiled at the veiled question.

Bryan knew that they added a little filler to the mix to both mask Earth as the source of the product and pad the sale. He felt Cris was a bit like a drug dealer who cut their product to increase profits. He imagined the captain standing in some dark passageway near the supply businesses, prompting passersby with offers.

“Hey man, you need a fix for your rods.”

He smiled and snorted at the thought.

“Back to the business at hand,” Aeryn commented, giving him an awkward stare at the outburst as Bryan ordered from the robotic waiter.

“As I was saying, things in this area of the universe are quiet right now, which is good for us, as Enforcer presence is low. It does limit our options for employment with transport and supply runs at a minimum, however,” he explained.

Bryan pondered the information as he classified their work. It came down to direct and indirect actions. Recovering ships and bodyguard duties were direct actions that required the ship and crew to become involved in other people’s troubles. Running supplies and transporting passengers was indirect and typically involved the Independence’s predetermined travel plans.

If they were going to one planet or another anyway, loading paying passengers or cargo was no harm, no foul. Saving kidnapped colonists or protecting princesses was a targeted effort that usually involved Bryan shooting someone. It was the last thought that seemed to trigger Cris.

“Bryan, didn’t you tell me Azizi was developing some extralong-range ammunition for you?” the captain asked with a tinge of humor.

“Yes, it was an idea she had to counter designing and building new large-caliber versions of what I have. She theorized she could enhance the ammunition for the weapons I have to produce the same results,” he explained.

“With what you brought back from Earth, is that still an issue?’ Aeryn questioned.

“No, some of what I wanted her to make is in that haul, but the new ammo could be a game changer all around,” he replied.

“Well, I think we have the perfect job to test her theories,” he said with a smile.

----*----

Independence Shuttle Hangar

“Azizi, what did you do?” Bryan declared as he stared at what used to be his Honda, the emotional outburst taking her by surprise.

“Calm down, you need to trust me on this,” she countered soothingly as she walked him around her prize.

Bryan would have thought by now her naked form would become mundane to him, but under the circumstances, it did help defuse the anger and frustration he was feeling. Before him, the Honda XL 350R he had convinced Cris to allow him to take along was almost unrecognizable.

Gone were the front and back wheels and fenders. The handlebars, front forks, rear swingarm, and seat were still there, but the engine and gas tank had been removed and replaced with items Bryan had never seen before. Where the front and rear axles had been, long, cylindrical, capsule-shaped canisters were centered and ran parallel to the deck. The two sat mounted in the suspension between the forks and looked like cocktail weenies pierced in the center.

“I thought about this a lot, and it seemed to me that mounting the levitation generators to the existing suspension might give you a similar feel to what you are used to and add additional cushioning to the ride over rough terrain. Now you can go places you could never go before,” she began.

“So, no more tires, it floats rather than rolls?” Bryan asked as he considered the change.

“Exactly. The generator flexes and pivots to maintain a parallel relationship to the terrain, and the suspension absorbs the jolts at speed,” she offered as she flexed the front canister, pivoting it up and down through the middle where the axle passed through the center of its body.

“Each canister repels downward only, lifting it above the ground, and the propulsion is along the longitudinal axis of the units. In the rear, that translates to only driving the motorcycle forward along the axis, but it changes direction when you turn the handlebars at the front, allowing you to change course. Now, both the front and the rear propel the vehicle forward, unlike before, where the rear wheel did the pushing while the front controlled direction,” she beamed.

“The separate braking controls, front and rear, seemed important, so I retained them for independent action. Each manages the front and rear field generators separately, and the twisty accelerator thingy on the right handlebar controls both forward and reverse thrust. Twist and it goes forward, dial it back and it slows your forward progress,” she explained as she pointed to each item.

“That other lever, on the left handlebar, disengages the forward thrust of both field generators regardless of the throttle setting, a similar function to its predecessor, I think, but does not impact levitation. It only inhibits the forward propulsion,” Azizi said as she pointed to the clutch lever.

Sitting astride the bike as it rested on a retractable center stand, Bryan grabbed the handlebars and had to agree it felt the same as before. As he watched, Azizi reached over and activated the system. Bryan could feel the bike lift off the deck and the stand retract beneath him. The motorcycle began to hover about eighteen inches above the deck.

“The fuel storage tank for the old engine is now just a storage compartment for whatever you wish to carry, and the engine space holds the power source and fuel rods for the field generators. It’s a miniaturized version, similar to what we installed in the Jeep, and will run for cycles before you need to replenish the rods,” she announced proudly.

Bryan bounced slightly and felt the suspension flex as before while the field generators maintained a constant height about the shuttle bay deck. He caught himself as he went to put both feet on the pegs, only to feel the bike begin to topple to one side. Placing both feet back on the deck, he looked at Azizi with a smile.

“The generators don’t keep you upright, so you need to maintain balance as before. You said keep the riding experience, and with the wheels, you would fall over if unbalanced. Try it,” she offered, pointing to the open area in front of the parked shuttles.

With no engine or transmission, it wasn’t necessary to put it in gear. Slowly turning the throttle, he could feel the bike inch forward, and as he turned the handlebars, the bike responded as before, heading in the new direction. Testing the clutch, he found it worked as advertised, allowing him to run up the throttle and work the clutch to engage forward motion in bursts with both feet on the pegs.

Cautiously making his way to the open space, he took the opportunity to ride over a crate he knew contained the ore that they had collected while on Earth. Had he not seen the action rather than just feeling it, he would have sworn the front and rear tires were still in place as the solid bump compressed the front suspension on impact.

Riding over the ore crate, while standing on the pegs for balance, he continued his journey around the shuttle bay, working his way between the parked craft and returning to the spot where Azizi waited for him.

“It won’t go any higher than the over-the-ground setting, as it's not intended for flying, but the ride height is adjustable to within this range,” she offered as she held her hands about twelve inches apart.

Bryan estimated that meant he could set the ride height from one to two feet off the ground or anything in between.

“The levitation doesn’t lock to a vertical ride height, so you can still jump off mounds, crash into things, or fall over if you lose control. The hovering height is set in that span I described, so you get no closer to the ground,” she emphasized as she smiled brightly.

He paused with the bike hovering between his legs and leaned it from side to side. By his estimation, Azizi must have cut over one hundred pounds off the dry weight, and the stability seemed equal to or better than what it had been before. The real test was getting out to a place where he could open up the throttle and see how it handled at speed.

The other noticeable change was that it was now completely quiet. He wanted to say he had heard a slight hum, but couldn’t discount the ship itself as the noise source, rather than the bike. While he might miss the thundering exhaust, he imagined the silence would be much more helpful in the future. Nodding in satisfaction, he had to admit that the alien engineer had done it again.

“How soon can this be replicated?” he asked Azizi as he considered his promise to Aeryn.

Chapter 25

Independence Galley

The crew had gathered after a few days of rest and relaxation on Klaxion, as Cris wanted to review his findings.

“I am still unclear as to our overall destination since no one region of the universe is particularly appealing at the moment,” he began.

A subtle wave of disappointment passed through the group as Bryan sensed the others wanted to be on the move once more. The station was a welcome change of pace, and the green zone domes offered a sense of natural surroundings, contrasting with the sterile environment of the ship, but it wasn’t quite the same as being outside. His time on Earth had satisfied that need in him and a few of the others, but half the ship's crew never experienced the same thing.

“In the meantime, we have been offered a job that seems to fit one of our crewmates to a tee,” Cris began.

Bryan had learned that several of his comrades had become aware of his efforts to educate himself in reading intergalactic standard languages. As such, they had made an effort to learn more about Earth. Cris’s use of the idiom was just one of the latest slogans to arrive at his verbal doorstep. Fit as a fiddle, smart as a whip, and their current favorite, dog tired, all regularly popped up between Aeryn, Seren, and Azizi.

Even Kylo and Cris dropped a verbal bomb when the opportunity presented itself. Cris’s comment was just the latest offering. Beyond that, Kylo and Zaim mostly allowed the others to delve into other aspects of human culture, such as history and food, but Istu wasn’t interested in any of it. He complained it stank of education, and he learned enough from Seren and Aeryn’s lessons for Bryan every time they left the ship.

The comment from Cris telegraphed that the human was the target of the comment.

“There has been a terraforming effort in one of the nearby systems, designated Alpha X-ray 2549 Bravo or AX2549-B, and the planet chosen for the work has developed an unfortunate infestation. One of the colonies has come into conflict with a terraform hybrid creature that is terrorizing the population. It’s fast and lethal and can quickly strike and escape, dragging its prey along until it's beyond the range of most conventional weapons. The animals are spread widely, so they can’t be dealt with in a single massive blow from above. The colonists need someone on the ground who can help reduce the population to a manageable number,” Cris explained.

Bryan had learned that some terraforming approaches involved seeding the developing world with life forms of a predatory nature. They were intended to control the animal populations as they grew in size. He liked to think of it as synthetic evolution, which wasn’t always predictable in outcome.

On most planets, the creatures that emerged from the primordial soup were as intended, but on occasion, something unexpected and sometimes lethal emerged. The worst of those were the ones that also had brains.

“The company or the government won't help? You know, send in hired guns or the Enforcers in mass?” Bryan asked.

“Terraforming anomalies and such are outside the government's purview, as it were, and the company involved is helping by looking to us for that remedy. If this were raiders or pirates, they might get the Enforcers involved, but not something created by a terraforming effort,” Seren explained.

“Is this intelligent life?” Bryan asked as he considered the request.

“Less than the dog you showed me on Earth. It’s considered a nuisance creature and has adapted to the introduction of the colonists by elevating them to its preferred food source,” Seren explained.

“And they can’t kill them themselves?” he asked.

“The creatures strike and run, quickly outdistancing a blaster or pulse rifle. An energy beam rifle doesn’t have the impact of your projectile weapons. They tried using one in the beginning, and all it did was enrage the animals with its burns. Apparently, it is hard to kill,” Cris explained.

The explanation made sense to him as he recalled the need to hold your target to get a good burn through. More likely, it just left cauterized wounds that inspired the animal to revenge attacks. The fact that they weren’t intelligent and a byproduct of a terraforming event relieved him of any guilt. Bryan was never a fan of killing anything just for the sake of it. Here he would be saving lives.

“It’s a nuisance creation,” Aeryn confirmed.

“You know this strikes me as a humanitarian effort,” Bryan surmised, remembering the words he had recently heard.

“I had the same thought when the job appeared on the board. I don’t see how Wyndom could have been involved, however, as she has no idea where we are,” Cris replied.

“That we know of. I wondered on Earth if they hadn’t been using the tracker from the cash container to track us before,” Aeryn suggested, the admission one that caused her to wince.

“It’s something to look into. For now, the job pays well if we think we can make an impact,” Cris replied.

“And we do think your guns will take them down solidly,” Aeryn explained as she pointed at him.

“You mean our guns,” Bryan countered, pointing back to Aeryn.

----*----

Planet AX2549-B

“Do you think these things are safe?” Aeryn asked as she and Bryan offloaded the upgraded motorcycles from the back of Rogue and out onto the ground.

The trip to the colony planet was short, and while the Independence remained in orbit, Aeryn and Bryan took Rogue down to the surface. Cris had taken a shuttle and come down in advance to talk to the colonists and confirm the information they had been provided concerning the problems. After his return to Independence, Bryan and Aeryn loaded up the little ship with all they needed to carry out the plan outlined on the way in.

Rather than taking the Jeep, which restricted their movements to joint activities, Bryan reasoned that the two motorcycles permitted them to move independently of one another and increased their effective area of influence. Offloading the pair of motorcycles was an interesting activity that wasn’t reminiscent of the past. Rather than simply rolling the bikes in and out of the cargo bay, one needed to activate the field generators to move them, causing the center stand to retract and allowing for controlled movement with the rider guiding the vehicle by hand.

In many ways, it was typical of how Bryan had rolled the wheeled version about in the past. It was easier as the bike floated free, with no resistance from the tires on the ground's surface, and traveled with a slight blip of the throttle, so you didn’t need to push.

“Safe? I seriously hope not,” he replied with a laugh.

The frown on Aeryn’s face told him his little joke was unappreciated. He dared not tell her he wasn’t joking, as part of the fun of these things was pushing the envelope of control. Safety had never been at the front of his mind when blasting across the desert at breakneck speeds.

“You will be fine, we have all this great new riding gear to protect us,” he added for reassurance.

Among the equipment purchased on Klaxion, Bryan had searched out two sets of alien riding clothing that he felt were suitable for the motorcycles. He could have brought along the things he had from home, but that cut into his allotment as assigned by Cris, so he decided to forgo the old and go in search of the new.

Boots, pants, gloves, and a proper riding jacket were all in good supply as he searched Klaxion, but the helmet was proving to be challenging. Most available options of headgear were intended for environmental protection and not impact-resistant to the degree necessary. They could take a hit, but the head inside would feel the impact severely. Bryan had gone over the handlebars frequently enough in the past to know he wanted to find proper safety headgear that cushioned the blow.

In the end, he was able to locate a model that, on Earth, would be called a three-quarters or open-face version with an optional chin guard. Without the guard, a retractable eye shield slipped down from above and covered the eyes to the top of the nose, in a similar fashion to a combat pilot's helmet on Earth.

With the chin guard in place, it became a complete shield, the clear screen sealing into the guard and creating a full-face helmet. Both options incorporated a HUD or head-up display capable of providing speed, direction, and any other telemetry fed from the bike.

He had no idea what the alien device had been designed for, but he bought and tested one before satisfying himself that they were suitable for his purposes. Azizi was delighted to assist him in evaluating the limits of the headgear, and both agreed neither rider would ever survive the impact that the helmet could withstand.

The colony they were protecting was situated in a region of the planet with wide-open spaces and vast tracts of flat land, perfect for farming and raising livestock. It was apparent that the terrain was the reason the apex predator was fast and cunning, as hunting in this topography would call for stealth and speed, or you would starve. Bryan recalled that well-used video of a cheetah chasing down a gazelle on the African plains.

“How many of these things do we need to kill?” Aeryn asked as they retrieved their weapons once the motorcycles were resting on their stands.

Each carried a sidearm, one of Bryan’s handguns instead of hand blasters. According to the colonists, the use of energy weapons varied in success, as described by those who had to defend themselves from attack. A well-placed shot would take the creature down, but in general, it was reported to absorb several body hits without effect.

Their hunting rifles were scoped ARs chambered in 5.56, equipped with bipods and enhanced exploding ammunition, which included rounds with extended-range capability.

“We are not here to wipe out a species, just cull the population enough to reduce the interest in eating colonists. From there, they can figure it out themselves,” Bryan clarified.

When first described, Bryan considered this mission and compared it to images he had seen of American settlers decimating the buffalo populations of the Great Plains. Piles of animal hides were sold for profit, and the addition of sport hunting had nearly driven the animals to extinction. The pictures had always depressed him.

His goal was to give the colonists a fighting chance and allow the pests an opportunity to look elsewhere for their next meal. Currently, they run unchecked as the apex predators in the region, unafraid and brazen. That was about to change.

“Since this is the first time we have had a chance to practice long-distance shooting, I think there are a few things we should cover,” he began as the two sat on the idle bikes.

With that, he walked Aeryn through bullet drop and wind drift as key considerations, adding breath control, leading the target, and follow-through. Finally, he explained the differences between tracking (following the target with your sights) and ambush (aiming at a point where you predict the target will be).

Most of the fundamentals of shooting he had covered with her before, so he only commented briefly on them as a reminder. While the gravity here was significant enough to have a valid impact on bullet drop, Azizi's ammunition incorporated the self-propelling projectile she had promised him. It provided a much flatter trajectory, removing any significant bullet drop, but wind would still be an issue in the side drift of the projectile.

Both carried one of the AR rifles chambered in the 5.56 round. While Bryan estimated that the heavier 300 bullets would have a greater effect in a traditional sense, the new, heavier bullet materials and explosive charge that Azizi added to the smaller caliber led him to rethink his old opinions.

Improved optics allowed them to see their targets in low-lighting and poor visibility, and the enhancement of life signs ensured that the creatures would literally stand out from the background scatter of vegetation. They could operate in total darkness if needed, as the device's life signs detection lit up the target quite nicely, picking up the electrical energy of the nervous system.

The creatures in question were unlike anything Bryan had seen to date. The only comparison he could make, should he need to describe one, was to suggest you mix a centaur with a cheetah and make it a reptile with an alligator head. Razor-sharp teeth lined the elongated snout, and the front arms held four sharp claws each for grasping and ripping. Four more legs propelled the body as it ran, elongated, with the upper torso stretched out in front and the arms extended forward to grasp its prey as it pursued it at breakneck speeds.

At rest, the upper torso stood erect, thus the centaur reference, giving the creature excellent visibility of its surroundings, and the colonist claimed it could see great distances from that position. They also reported that they had seen it stand fully erect, using only the last two legs to provide additional height when necessary.

“What do they call these things?” Bryan had asked in the initial planning meeting.

“A Cerberus,” Cris replied with a tone that suggested he expected Bryan to react.

It took Bryan a second before the reference struck him.

“Wait, isn’t that the Greek dog that guards the gates of hell?” he questioned.

“I told you sometime various species use ancient human references for unpleasant creatures,” Seren joked.

“I remember,” he replied flatly as it was apparent that only bad things got human names.

Bryan recalled the conversation in question, one he had with the others when first coming aboard. They had told him that some planets used mythological names to identify new species of animal life in places that bore no intelligent life, just plants and animals, usually terraformed planets and moons. While this beast bore no resemblance to a three-headed dog, the overall character of the pest seemed relevant, as death in those snapping jaws must be hell.

Determining a kill shot was problematic. The head made for a poor target, as the flat, alligator-like profile was only beneficial when faced head-on. It offered a small target area from the side, and the creature was inclined to bob its head up and down irregularly.

The colonists provided details on the inner body structure as they had managed to kill a few. The animal was optimized for speed and endurance with two hearts and four lungs. If Bryan understood the references the locals provided, they had seen the predators run full speed for miles before slowing. He was sure the motorcycles could outrun them, but hoped he wouldn’t need to test that assumption.

“The terrain is very crappy for this kind of thing, I don’t see any high ground,” Aeryn noted as they surveyed the area around them.

Scanning the vicinity and looking for the elevations where they might stand a chance of locating the predators in action, Bryan paused. They were mobile, allowing them to change shooting locations quickly if they had to make a run for it over the flat terrain. There was a fear that they could be caught off guard and attacked if they weren’t vigilant.

Suddenly, Bryan paused as he considered an omission from their training. Neither had ever ridden the new motorcycles, and he had no concept of their actual performance. He didn’t like the idea of turning Aeryn loose on a platform he had never tested. As such, he instructed her to stand watch as he ran the new motorcycle through some test runs to determine its rideability.

“Wait here, I just realized neither of us has ever ridden these things,” he explained.

“Don’t think they are safe?” Aeryn repeated in concern.

“Let’s find out, shall we?” he replied with a smile.

Dismounting, he set his rifle aside and picked up the new helmet. Climbing back onto the bike, with feet firmly on the ground, he hit the power switch and felt the ride beneath him go into a hover. Slowly twisting the throttle, he put his feet on the pegs as it began to inch forward. Throwing caution to the wind, he twisted the grip hard, and the bike launched forward, accelerating briskly over the open ground.

With the wind in his face, he began a series of maneuvers that challenged the stability of his ride. Searching for obstacles and irregularities in the ground below, he jumped, swerved, and exercised the floating platform. At one point, he tried to slide the bike into a turn, a maneuver he had done a thousand times on earth. The hovering bike, gliding on field generators instead of rubber tires, didn’t react in the same manner and almost tossed him off as it tried to high-side, a condition where the rider is thrown from their bike due to sideways imbalance and inertia.

Regaining control, he hit the rear brake hard, the action nearly tossing him over the handlebars. Once again, he had to scramble to stay seated as he struggled to get the bike under control. He began to realize that in cases where the tires slid in the dirt, things like hard stops, side slides, and burnouts, this version was far detached from the bike-to-ground contact he was accustomed to.

For several minutes, Bryan gently applied all the controls in sequence, working to avoid any overzealous actions that might place him face down in the dirt. Besides any concerns of injury, should he crash and burn, he didn’t want to lose face in front of Aeryn. He suspected the woman’s confidence would be shaken if she perceived the vehicle as too much for him to handle.

After running through all the basics, he pointed the bike at Aeryn and raced across the open ground, eventually slowing and pulling up next to her.

“Well, what do you think, is it safe?” Aeryn asked as she sat astride her bike, helmet in place, rifle slung across her back, and anxious to get her chance to take it out.

“No, it’s definitely not safe, but it might be even more fun than before,” Bryan replied honestly.

“So I can go?” she asked, looking for confirmation.

“Go slowly at first, I almost did a faceplant several times, as this thing stops on a dime,” he laughed as she smiled broadly and then inched forward until she cut loose.

Bryan watched his hunting partner circle the area around him until she tossed him a wave and sped off in the direction she had been assigned.

“See you later,” he heard over the comm system in his helmet as she quickly disappeared.

After a review of the previous attacks, it had been suggested that the pair take up positions near the agricultural fields furthest from the settlement. As the threat increased, the colonists constructed towers where a lookout could be placed during the periods they worked the fields. It was in one of those towers that Bryan took up residence and scanned the surrounding area.

Instead of the motorcycles, they had discussed hovering platforms, but apparently, the creatures could sense the antigravity levitators holding them in place and avoided those locations entirely. They had no concerns about the issue with the motorcycle levitators since the bikes were powered down when not in operation. The behavior raised questions about the level of intelligence they had demonstrated, but the locals assured everyone it was a learned behavior rather than a result of intelligent reasoning.

The towers were of simple construction and had an open space between he floor and the solid railing that kept the occupants from falling out. As they were at least fifty feet up, the barriers were a good idea. The gap was large enough for Bryan to lie flat and sight his rifle between the floor and the bottom of the sidewalls. An overhead roof kept him out of the direct sunlight, and the shadows helped with sighting the rifle by reducing any glare.

“Bryan, do you see the creatures moving in the fields northeast of your position, grid 02 13?” Kylo asked from Independence’s bridge.

It had been explained to him that most terraformed planets had magnetic fields to aid in their habitability. Like Earth, not all magnetic norths align with the established actual north pole, as determined by the rotational axis, but for their purposes, that wasn't necessary. As such, they could use a compass reference from the magnetic readings to aid in directional coordinates.

In addition, Bryan taught Kylo the military grid reference system, or rather, a modified version tailored to their needs in the localized region. He, Kylo, and Aeryn worked out the mappings while Cris watched silently, taking it all in. Zaim ignored the four as he tended to his duties.

“I got it,” he acknowledged as he swung his rifle into position.

Flipping the setting to one that acted on the life force of the animals, he got blooms in his display that suggested three of the beasts were making their way toward a group of colonists working at the edge of the field. He was not one to fire at something he couldn’t see properly, so he tracked the three targets until they slowed.

“Are you going to shoot them?” he heard Kylo question.

“I can't see them, I just see life force feedback. I need to get a visual to confirm the targets. Besides, the locals might get pissed if I shoot the family dog. Can you get me a visual from on high?” Bryan pushed back, slightly irritated at being pressed to take action without a clear view of the target.

Without warning, a small window appeared in the scope display, and Bryan could make out three of the nuisance creatures making their way toward the intended prey from an overhead view. Stretched out, long and flat, they almost looked like alligators crawling on their bellies as they crept forward with six appendages instead of four. He marveled at how their bodies moved side to side, like snakes, to avoid displacing the plants around them, thus giving themselves away with the movement.

“Thanks,” he said softly as the view confirmed the validity of the shots to be taken.

Bryan watched as he gauged the best place to interdict their actions. Moving in a triangular formation, the lead animal intended to attack head-on while the others would contain any attempts of escape from one side or another. He wanted to attribute high intelligence to the actions, but recalled many Earth predators that hunted in a similar fashion.

He watched as the predators reached the edge of the field, and he could see all three Cerberus lying as flat as they could manage while they watched the colonists at work, the latter oblivious to the threat. Bryan was trying to gauge the shot, and the closeness between predator and prey was uncomfortable. He wished for a little more distance as he had no idea how the other two Cerberus would react after the first shot.

“You are really dragging this out until the last moment, aren’t you?’ Kylo commented, distracting Bryan.

At that instant, the central creature leaped from the concealment of the field, and Bryan led the shot to impact the creature in midair. As he pulled the trigger, he realized the new ammunition traveled much faster, and he might have overestimated the projectile’s time to impact. It was a surprised colonist who found a dead body falling from the sky, landing at his feet in a pile with a gaping hole in its body between the neck and torso.

Two more shots rang out in quick succession, the muted thuds as the charges exploded in the body cavities of the hidden threat audible to all, and Bryan had delivered on his promise to help clear the area of threats.

Chapter 26

Planet AX2549-B

Aeryn listened over the comm link as Bryan killed the first three monsters they were there to cull. She had not been so lucky as to locate one of the watchtowers that Bryan had commandeered. Her location of choice was a slight rise between one of the many agricultural fields and the natural vegetation bordering the region. The colonists had cleared a broad path between their fields and the natural surroundings in hopes of establishing a kill zone for encroaching predators.

It was not as dense as some of the heavier green zones that occupied the planet, but it was still thick enough to conceal any of the Cerberus that lay hidden deep inside. Using the motorcycle as a rest, she laid her weapon across the seat as she steadied for her turn.

“Aeryn, I count two of the beasts in the wild pointed in your direction. It looks like they are headed into the field on your left,” Kylo offered.

“Roger, grid 07 16?” she asked.

“Yes, moving from east to west,” he confirmed.

It was agreed from the start that Independence would establish a geosynchronous orbit over the target area and perform overwatch for the two hunters. Concerns were that the two shooters operating independently would be flanked by the animals and attacked from behind. The compromise allowed the pair to use the motorcycles for their maneuverability and flexibility in covering multiple areas in quick turns, while still ensuring they had someone watching their backs.

Bryan had told her a story about something on Earth called a lion, which was renowned for such tactics, so the behavior wasn’t considered particularly original or high-level thinking. Unlike Bryan, she had no reservations about the job they were performing. In her world, terraforming mutants were a common occurrence. In most cases, they were identified and removed long before any colonization occurred, thereby maintaining a balanced ecosystem and promoting settlement growth.

These abominations were among the most extreme instances of unchecked artificial evolution she had encountered in a long time. She silently challenged Bryan’s refusal to eradicate the species outright, but didn’t openly speak out against him as she doubted the two of them could achieve that goal in the short period they planned on being there. She was sure that, left in the colonist’s hands, they would pick up where the two hunters left off and complete the work once they had been shown the way.

“You should be able to see them in about five decas,” Kylo predicted.

Sure enough, two rapid shots later, as they emerged from the tree line, the pair of creatures lay motionless and ready for retrieval.

“Damn, Azizi does good work,” Aeryn complemented her shipmate on her enhanced ammunition.

Over the next several days, Aeryn and Bryan assembled a body count that impressed everyone involved with the effort. Aziz’s upgraded rounds were everything Aeryn and Bryan could hope for, and in the case of the Cerberus hits, it allowed for a one-shot, one-kill experience for both shooters, something Bryan seemed to take pride in while Aeryn found she enjoyed the hunt.

----*----

Independence Galley

“I love my motorcycle,” Aeryn declared proudly as the crew gathered for dinner.

The declaration brought a laugh to Bryan as Aeryn had been one of the more vocal critics of his Jeep in the early days of his exile from Earth. True, she had grown accustomed to the vehicle as she spent more time in the passenger seat, but no one had ever asked to learn how to operate the four-wheel drive.

Now the tables had turned as she reveled in the joy of motorcycling, the exhilaration of the high-speed adventure, and the flexibility to go where she wanted instead of being along for the ride. In all, Bryan feared he had created a monster, but one he could relate to.

“Why don’t you ever bring me presents?” Seren teased as she seated herself across the table from him.

“You want a motorcycle as well?” he countered, knowing that the doctor would rather eat dirt than even ride behind him on that death bomb, as she referred to it.

“I hear the colonists have tried to buy it from you?” Istu asked as he seated himself with a plate piled high.

Bryan had whipped up dinner after returning from the day's hunting. He teased that the meal proved that Cerberus meat was good for something, though none of the ingredients were actually sourced from the dead animals.

“That and our rifles,” Bryan offered as he found an open place at the table.

“And your reply?” Cris asked as he sat down with his plate of food.

“Build your own,” he responded before his first bite.

As he ate, Bryan considered Seren’s comment. While offered in good humor, it did reflect a particular bias in his interactions with the others he felt closest to. Aeryn, his hands-down favorite, was the person closest to sharing all his favorite hobbies and interests. In most ways, she was more like a buddy than a girlfriend, and it was the type of relationship he would have expected from Cris or even Istu.

The former’s hands-off policy regarding crew interactions and the latter's lack of intellectual depth prevented either from rising to the top in the best buddy ranking. Zaim was a nonstarter, and Kylo had the makings of a top-notch wingman but tended to go his own way frequently enough to be a good friend but a part-time pal. Finally, Azizi was special to him in ways he couldn’t describe.

Her passion for things that interested him was infectious, and her overall playful nature, when she wasn’t in one of her moods because the ship wasn’t optimal, was enjoyable if not uncomfortable when publicly naked. She, however, had a fierce independent streak that rebelled against the level of intimacy that a close relationship fostered.

Seren was an enigma to him, a split personality that defied logic. Sometimes the oversexed aggressor that pulls him aside at the most unexpected times to exercise her personal needs. At other times, she was the focused medical professional who worked to keep him and the others healthy and in peak physical condition.

Then there was his recent discovery of the closeted elitist, or so she thought, who secreted herself into forbidden gatherings to exercise her intellectual needs. It was the missing component to her complex personality that he had sensed from the very beginning. He interpreted her description of the psychological gratification she enjoyed as that of a professor lecturing their students on a subject they had mastered beyond all others. In short, it was feeding a giant ego trip.

Seren had been one of the very first to openly accept him and make him welcome when he came aboard Independence, and the giving nature had helped him settle into an uncertain future. He owed her a lot. If he wanted to balance that relationship, he needed to find a way to open her up to exploring their common ground beyond the bedroom.

----*----

Klaxion Space Station

Without a long-term destination in mind, the crew suggested to Cris that returning to the space station was preferable to orbiting the colony planet that they had just cleansed of a nuisance pest. By the time Aeryn and Bryan were finished, the Cerberus that plagued the colonists’ fields had migrated away from the settlements to find other hunting grounds, less dangerous to their remaining numbers.

Bryan had to remind several colonists that their efforts weren’t to annihilate the species, but to get the population numbers down to a manageable level. He had no idea what they were doing with the bodies that were piling up as he and Aeryn continued their efforts, and didn’t care so long as they disappeared from view. The killing depressed him, all the while justifying his actions as saving lives.

The activity reminded him of trophy hunting, which he avoided back home. It was one thing to kill for food or self-defense, but this was a slaughter. It became an effort of diminishing returns, though, as fewer and fewer of the animals ventured into the cultivated fields and open areas around the colony.

With the threat removed for now, the payment was made in full, and the crew of the Independence was free to move on to their next adventure.

“Klaxion it is then,” Cris declared as he had Kylo plot a course back to the space station.

Once they broke orbit and got underway, it didn’t take long for the ship to dock at the station, and it was early afternoon by the ship's clock. With no duties to perform and money in their pockets, everyone chose to do a little relaxing. Some opted for shopping, while others headed to the alien version of a bar or tavern. He suspected that Seren was off to her nerd club but dared not ask in front of the others.

This time, Bryan stayed behind as the others chose to leave the ship for some light-hearted relaxation. He decided his cabin over the station's distractions, whether due to his feelings over the death they had unleashed or the fact that he felt he needed a little solitary quiet time.

Bryan was sorting through his treasures, all stored inside the locker he had brought back to Independence from Earth. He wished he had negotiated with Cris to use a larger crate, but agreed that his cabin was only so big, and this took up enough valuable floor space as it was. Considering that he had been the one to pack it, he was still amazed at how much he had secured within its limited confines.

He could say with absolute certainty that there were no unused gaps between the objects within. It had been professional-level Tetris to add layer after layer of personal possessions. Even with the others standing over him, urging him to expedite his effort as they were concerned about the Enforcer's arrival, he calmly and methodically stored his valuables for safe transport.

Pulling one particular item from the box, he stared at it and was suddenly struck with an idea. Given his current funk, the notion suggested a chance to change things up for both him and another of the crew. It was bold and possibly irresponsible, but since when had those become bad things?

----*----

Klaxion Space Station

Seren was looking forward to spending some time at the club, where Bryan had discovered her enjoying the company of her people. The kind of people that she was excluded from for long periods, and who understood her for who she was before the death sentence drove her from the public eye. While the human attracted her physically, she craved the intellectual stimulation only the cream of Cheizat society could provide. Neither Aeryn nor Cris engaged in the intellectual stimulations that the members here craved.

Excusing herself after dinner, she had slipped away from the others and secreted herself off the ship. That was not technically accurate, as she logged her exit upon departure, as all crew members were required to do, but she didn’t openly announce her exit. As she was limited in storage space, as all crew quarters were the same, including the captain’s cabin, her usual ritual was to locate the nearest rental establishment. These merchants catered to the more discerning, and she would borrow a garment of sufficient quality and design for the evening at a reasonable price.

The temporary use was common, as not all had the storage space for a wardrobe of gowns and formal attire as she had back home, before Independence. It wasn’t a matter of cost; it came down to physical space. Rather than hundreds of individuals all trying to pack away infrequently used clothing, the merchants maintained storage rooms where customers could rummage about. Locating the item of interest, they paid for its use and returned it after the occasion. Afterward, it would be cleaned and returned to inventory, awaiting the next customer.

Finding a dress of sufficient elegance and sex appeal that inspired desire in others, she paid the man and then changed, storing her clothing in a locker provided for the purpose. Of late, it was a rare occurrence that she found a recreational partner at these events, particularly since Bryan’s arrival aboard the ship. Still, Seren felt she had an image to maintain, regardless, and you never knew when the mood might strike. Later, she would return and exchange the item, reclaiming her personal possessions before returning to Independence.

Sufficiently happy with her selection, she made her way through the station passages until she reached the door where the doorman halted her entrance.

“At what point is it permitted to include other species in Cheizat social politics?” the man questioned her.

“Never, as they are incapable of understanding the complex Cheizat intricacies and subtle undertones,” she replied firmly.

“You may enter,” he stated as he opened the portal that granted her access to her secret world.

She had barely entered the central hall when the club hostess intercepted her. All clubs had a hostess whose primary responsibility was to create an environment of social engagement. The atmosphere was casual, like a party, but refined and discreet. No overt or vulgar displays were permitted, and as the hostess, she ensured that these demonstrations of poor taste were discouraged.

It was the hostess who had intercepted Bryan the last time he was here, and Seren was positive that his attire had alerted her to his presence on that occasion. Superficially, he was just an oversized Cheizat Enforcer, pleasing to the eye, but unsophisticated and a surprise entrant to the high society crowd. She was positive no one had detected his alien ancestry, as he would have been escorted from the premises on sight.

“Seren, I am so happy to see you. I can't thank you enough for encouraging your friend to revisit us. You have been holding out on us. He really is amazing,” the woman gushed.

“I’m sorry, to whom are you referring?” Seren asked, unsure of the person mentioned.

Seren hadn’t sent anyone to any Cheizat social gathering, much less to the Klaxion contingent. She did her utmost to keep the activity secret, and should anyone question her on the topic, she was sure to deny all knowledge of its existence.

The last time she had come to this particular gathering, Bryan had somehow conned his way past the doorman and surprised her. It couldn’t possibly be him, the hostess was referencing.

“The Captain, the big one you met with last time you were here. Having Enforcer officers attend our gatherings is not unheard of, but it does lead to fascinating and unusual conversations. He’s become quite popular among several of the more passionate participants,” she continued.

Scanning the room, it took Seren only a second to see the man towering over a group of Cheizat females, all gathered around him like a hunting pack. She had no idea where he got the uniform, but the suit's cut and fit were exemplary, and he presented a striking figure of commanding power.

The sight sparked a wave of unfamiliar emotions that washed over her, evoking a tinge of possessiveness. She wanted to rush over and disperse the interlopers, declaring the man off limits. She breathed a deep sigh to suppress the unwanted feelings and thanked the hostess. Grabbing a drink as she passed a servant, she downed the contents in an unfashionable gulp and headed toward the crowd.

“Doctor, I’m delighted you could make it this evening,” Bryan declared as he took her hand in his and kissed it.

Seren was unfamiliar with the gesture, but the woman beside her almost fainted as he performed the act of reverence. His white gloves contrasted with her skin, providing an image of elegance and taste.

“I believe you know everyone as they all know of you,” he offered as he politely introduced his companions.

Seren nodded in a silent greeting, as she indeed knew these females and was quite familiar with their intentions. Bryan had found himself in the center of a group with the exact oversexed personal needs as her own. She knew every one of them intended to try to take him home after the gathering, something she could not permit for many reasons, some of which were disconcerting to her.

It was one thing to share with Azizi and Aeryn, as they were not her social equals, but these women posed a threat to her. And then there were the hidden physical traits that would expose him as human.

“I see you found the place,” she countered as the others listened intently to the exchange.

“Indeed,” he replied as he beamed at the others nearby.

“May I have a word in private?” she asked as she tried to lead him away.

There was something special about him that she couldn’t put her finger on. He was different from the man she had known so intimately. Gone was the crass sarcasm and unintelligible comments, all replaced with a refined presence that radiated class and culture. His words were chosen with care, and his social manners were impeccable.

“Ladies, I shall return shortly, don’t wander off,” he offered with a broad smile and a slight bow.

Seren wanted to bark, Not Likely, at the fawning females, but held her tongue as she found a quiet place to talk.

“What are you playing at?” she hissed, smiling brightly for those they had left behind.

“I’m not playing at anything. I am trying to fit into your special world, for you, as my gift,” he countered as he took her hand, the act appearing affectionate and endearing to the women watching.

She knew he was trying to distract her and put on a show for everyone from across the room. Unfortunately, it worked on both counts as she heard a flurry of whispers from those seeing the show of affection.

“Well … don’t,” she stuttered and then snapped as she pulled her hand away.

Seren immediately realized the action was a mistake as a new flurry of excited whispers replaced the silence. She had just declared open season on her conversation partner.

“Look, last time I was here, you said I wasn’t dressed properly, so I found some clothes that fit any special occasion,” he explained casually.

Seren had to admit that his uniform was spectacular and made him appear exotic and unusual to this crowd. In the arena of Cheizat social politics, he had topped them all, without saying a word, which was something to be admired for an alien. It appeared the doorman’s challenge had a new answer.

“Where did you get an Enforcer uniform anyway? They frown on imposters,” she blurted, redirecting the conversation.

“This isn’t an Enforcer uniform, it's my uniform, and I’m no impostor. I earned it,” he countered firmly.

“Yours?” she stammered as she stepped back and examined the suit of clothes.

The dark cloth, shiny buttons, and emblems on the jacket glittered in the room's lights. A row of colored ribbons on his left breast was augmented with metal badges, and there were more on his shoulders and at his high-necked collar. A black belt with a cross strap finished the look.

His blue pants featured a brazen red stripe down the leg, adding to their unique appearance. As a whole, she had to admit she was impressed, despite the archaic and unorthodox nature of the material and the presentation. It had a commanding, primal appearance that left her reeling.

“Yes, I brought it along, stuffed in my foot locker. I wasn’t sure I would ever need it, but I had nothing as fine as what you are wearing now. I do know nothing in the universe can match a Marine in his dress uniform,” Bryan commented as he indicated the gaggle of Cheizat women waiting to speak to him.

“Looks aren’t everything,” she replied, her tone softened by his efforts.

“If you think I can't hold my own with the bunch, try me,” he replied as he led her off into the crowd.

Chapter 27

Independence

The ship was quiet as Bryan moved about the galley, making breakfast for himself. It was a rare occasion when everyone was either sleeping late or off ship, spending the night elsewhere, which could only occur when they were docked or safely in a spaceport on some alien world. Usually, Cris or one of the bridge crew stood duty at all other times, and if the ship was unoccupied, it was on lockdown.

It had been a late night for him as, after their talk, Seren agreed to let him stay at the gathering, and the pair became the hit of the evening. As the night progressed, the doctor began to relax and enjoy the additional attention she received as she paraded him around like a prized stallion. Soon, the drink started to flow, and she felt no pain by the time they made their goodbyes. She hung on him like a second skin, almost giggling and beaming over the renewed attention from her peers.

By the time they returned to the ship, Bryan was all but carrying her, and a surprised Cris greeted them at the airlock door. He noted the uniform and the semi-coherent blonde mumbling and laughing as she hung off Bryan’s arm. Smiling, the captain nodded approval and stepped aside to allow the pair to pass.

“You need any help?” he asked.

“No, I got it,” Bryan replied with a sheepish grin.

Slipping Seren into her cabin, he placed her into the bunk after removing the gown. Bryan had returned to his cabin afterward, as she fell asleep, smiling at the kiss he had placed on her lips. Hanging up his uniform rather than returning it to the locker, he felt a sense of accomplishment for delivering Seren something he thought she truly appreciated. While he could have done without it, a gift was intended for the recipient.

Not long after he finished eating, Seren appeared in one of her signature jumpsuits, her gown over one arm and a ragged look on her face.

“It’s alive,” Bryan commented as he passed her a cup of her favorite breakfast drink after she sat down next to him.

While Bryan had finally found a substitute for his preferred coffee long ago, the trip to Earth had permitted him a chance to stock up on the real thing. Excluded from his foot locker limit, he went all out since Cris had agreed that items like coffee were more included as the ship’s inventory and thus unrestricted. The people at the market thought he was crazy as he carted off several shipping boxes of the stuff.

Seren preferred one of the traditional beverages that Bryan equated to tea. It was plant-based and steeped through a filter, but it was very bitter and had a nasty aftertaste to his human tastebuds.

“Thank you for last night, it was extraordinary. I was surprised to wake up alone this morning, but as I am sure I was asleep before I hit the bed, I don’t blame your absence. I don’t remember how we got here,” she commented softly with a laugh.

“Now that you know I can hang with the big dogs, you shouldn’t feel the need to slip away to get your nerd fixes,” Bryan commented.

“Oh no, now I have even more reasons to go. I can parade you around in that uniform and soak in the envy that radiates from every female in the room,” she countered as she touched his arm.

Bryan could detect a new gleam in her eyes as he imagined her reliving the evening's events. They had been a hit, and partly, that had been the motivator for her to overindulge. She seemed to experience a euphoria as they wandered from place to place, engaging various individuals and groups in conversations that covered a wide range of topics. For Bryan, it usually meant evading specific questions regarding his service, but eventually, he turned the tables and asked the questions.

That was an old trick he had learned about social gatherings. If you focused on the others, they would soak up the attention.

“On that note, I need to get this back to the shop before I get charged for a second day,” she replied as she finished the drink and hurriedly departed.

Bryan wondered if more than half of her motivation to get moving, beyond the additional cost, was to avoid any of the crew. The dress would undoubtedly raise an eyebrow or two, and even though he was sure Cris would never reveal what he saw last night, Seren would be hard pressed to explain the attire.

As he basked in the glow of a successful gift, he realized he may have created a monster. Her reactions to the evening's interactions confirmed her claim that she got off on the whole thing, and she tended to overindulge. He decided he needed to find a reputable alien dry cleaner for his uniform.

----*----

Klaxion Space Station

After breakfast and before the others emerged from their cabins, Bryan headed into the station, leaving a note in the exit log that he would return soon. Still unaccustomed to wandering on his own, he cautiously made his way into the market zone. He wasn’t concerned about being there alone as he could handle himself should the need arise. It was more a desire to avoid Seren should the two accidentally intersect on the streets.

He wanted some time alone and knew if they ran into one another, she would want to spend the day together. That wasn’t terrible, but after the night of social overkill, he wanted some quiet time. Locating an alien version of a café, he sat himself down, ordered one of the few drinks he knew was safe and tame, and decided to do a little people watching. The act gave him a sense of peace and allowed his mind to wander.

He had no more than sipped the beverage when a woman came forth, blocking his view.

“You strike a far different image this morning than last night,” Wyndom commented as she sat opposite him at the table.

“Colonel, we are going to have to stop meeting like this or people are going to start talking,” Bryan countered, working to hide the surprise he felt.

Wyndom paused her reply to order a drink for herself before turning to face him. The pair sat silently as if each were sizing up the other before a fight.

“What brings you here?” he finally asked after she received her order.

“Your doctor would be horrified to learn her little gatherings are not as secret as they would have one believe, and when someone shows up in uniform, any uniform, it triggers alarms. That was a bold statement you made. Bold but effective,” she replied.

“On Earth, it is said that there are old fools and bold fools, but there are no old bold fools. I am testing the truth of that,” he said.

“And there is the wit that captured the room last night. Seren appeared to be in heaven as she followed you around, fending off the competition. I was happy to see you got her back to the ship safely,” Wyndom implied as she emphasized just how much surveillance they had endured.

“Colonel, why are you here?” Bryan asked bluntly, tiring of the banter.

“And there is the directness I expect from you. You are a multifaceted creature, Bryan Norton, and I have use for you,” she answered just as bluntly.

“How are you tracking us?” Bryan asked, changing the subject long enough to absorb the implications of the previous statement.

“A girl has to have some secrets. I have spent considerable time on Earth over the decades, and I think I understand humans better than anyone else in the Enforcers. I have watched you closely of late, and I see you have natural talents and a keen mind, which is a rare and lethal combination,” she stated.

Bryan noted that the entire statement had been in English, so no translation was required. For the next hour, Wyndom walked Bryan through everything she knew about him and the others on the Independence crew, providing detailed accounts of their exploits. The entire monologue seemed to focus on his impact on the others and how he was a natural leader who elevated those around him without taking over. Her perspective made him uncomfortable as it implied he was usurping Cris’s role as captain and leader of the crew.

“If you understand anything about me, you know I value loyalty above my life. I would never abandon or turn on my friends,” he blurted.

“I would never ask you to do that. The offer that I make will include your companions, so the decision to accept the occasional mission will need to be unanimous, or it won't work,” she explained.

“We’ve been operating under the assumption that you have already been throwing work our way as it is,” Bryan countered.

“Yes, it's true, and those have been child's play compared to what I am thinking of,” she replied with an ominous tone.

Passing a data chip to Bryan as she slipped it across the table, she watched as Bryn stared at the item, leaving it where it lay.

“Take the offer to the crew. You have three days to think it over and get back to me,” she explained.

“How do I contact you?” he asked as he watched her rise from her seat.

“Just return here, I’ll do the rest.”

At that moment, as Bryan watched her disappear, he decided to finish his drink, continue people watching, and enjoy his morning before he returned to the ship and upset the entire crew in one disclosure. As he did so, the data chip sat where Wyndom had placed it, untouched, as if the act would put things in motion by itself without his consent.

----*----

Independence Galley

“This is a terrible idea,” Zaim declared as the entire crew listened to Bryan’s tale.

“For once, I agree with him,” Kylo nodded.

“Everything would change,” Azizi declared.

“No, it won’t. I think that’s the point. Wyndom wants us to continue our lives as we live them now. We work for her when she needs us, not all the time. We get paid well, and she can offer limited protection from government and Enforcer interference,” Cris began.

“Are they commuting the death sentences?” Seren asked with a tinge of hope.

“She openly admits that it is beyond her power to do that. What she can do is bury your records so deep that it would take miners to know they were there. It turns out that I don’t have a specific file, as no one in power knows who I am, only her. I have a general posting in the system. Be on the lookout, we call them on Earth. I expect that to change over time, but this arrangement might prevent it from ever happening,” Bryan reasoned.

“So this is all in your best interest then,” Zaim blurted.

“No, quite the contrary. If we all agree to do this, you can breathe a sigh of relief knowing we can live and work in relative safety. I still can't return to Earth, and my visibility will increase regardless of these circumstances. You all will get a big boost in personal security while I pretty much stay on the track I am destined to follow,” he snapped.

“What kind of jobs?” Aeryn asked Bryan, refocusing the conversation toward a less confrontational topic.

“She was very nonspecific about the types of missions we would be asked to carry out, but I reminded her that anything that goes against our moral code is unacceptable. She agreed,” he replied.

“Can’t we just run away?” Seren asked, the little doctor shaken by the news.

“I am not sure we can, she found us here,” Cris admitted.

“She knows private things, stuff I can't understand that she could know about in a hundred years. She was aware of Rygon and the kidnapping. She knew about Hellsgate and Eron 5,” Bryan offered, omitting any references to Seren and her illegal social club.

He was positive the disclosure would send her into fits, so he decided to keep it to himself.

“That was all before we ever met her,” Aeryn blurted.

“Exactly. I hate to say it, but I think those two events in particular inspired her to make this offer,” Bryan proposed.

“Why is that?” Cris asked.

“Because we did amazing things with very few resources, and zero loss of life. Well, on our end anyway,” he stated proudly.

Bryan understood that the Enforcers operated like a blunt instrument while the crew of Independence worked with surgical precision. They had too, as they didn’t have the resources or the acceptable casualties attitude of the intergalactic government. On Independence, no one was expendable.

“I still don’t think we should agree to this,” Istu said firmly.

The alien’s attitude surprised Bryan a little, as this was a steady paycheck, and everyone knew how Istu felt about money. As their pouches were bursting with coins, Bryan had once asked the man how much he hoped to accumulate, and he replied, all of it.

“I’m not sure we have a choice,” Cris replied.

“Yeah, I agree, you are right. If we believe it's true, and she has been secretly throwing jobs our way for a while now, then that won’t ever change. This way it's upfront and we can negotiate the terms,” Aeryn offered.

“Think back to the unorthodox work we recently did, like the hijacked colonists sold as slave miners,” Cris said to the others.

“You believe she knew about that and needed someone other than an Enforcer squad to carry out the mission?” Kylo asked.

“You know as well as I that the Enforcers would have attacked in mass and the mine would have self-destructed, taking everyone with it,” he confirmed.

“That was early on, when Bryan first came aboard, she wouldn’t have known about him then,” Kylo observed.

“And we chose to do that on our own rather than pass it on for someone else to deal with,” Seren observed.

“That just shows she views the entire ship as an asset and not just a few crew members,” Bryan insisted.

“She mentioned she had been watching Aeryn for a while since her escape,” Cris added.

“I told Wyndom we wouldn’t take on jobs that violated our moral compass, maybe that was a test. We saved those people because it was the right thing to do and not because we got paid for it,” Bryan finished.

“She was testing you, you mean?” Zaim prodded.

Bryan could see that the undertone of this conversation was Wyndom’s fascination with him, not Aeryn. There had been a building attitude among some crew members that human empathy was becoming contagious among the other species aboard. Some embraced the notion while others, like Zaim, found the inference offensive. Bryan chose not to point out that Cris was also half-human, as it seemed that would be deflecting the issue. If Zaim needed to blame Bryan for the spreading attitude, he was willing to take the heat.

“She admitted to me that initially, she was fixated on Aeryn and her activities after escaping custody, as well as her moral code. Her refusal to shoot unarmed civilians was at the forefront of her interests. But after E857-C, Hellsgate, Eron 5, and her rescue from the pirates, Wyndom conceded, I have become the new focus of her attention,” Bryan admitted.

“The mixture of your compassion and unorthodox commando tactics?” Cris proposed.

“Something like that. I recall the words' ruthless and horrifying mixed in there as well,” he said, showing some embarrassment at the admission.

“How’s that lucky charm now?” Zaim asked Istu.

“Still lucky, just more complicated, and we would get paid regularly,” he said with a frown.

----*----

Independence

After agreeing to accept Wyndom’s proposal, on a trial basis, the entire crew was on edge in the following days, as they waited for the scheduled follow-up meeting and the other shoe to drop. All expected that once they agreed to the arrangement, they would be awash with assignments, forcing them to go to disagreeable places to do unspeakable things.

As a measure of self-control, Bryan offered to teach tactical classes on any topic that interested the crew, allowing him to make the best use of his time. He explained that if they prepared themselves for the worst, they would hold their future in their own hands and not become reactionary to the Colonel’s desires.

From a combat perspective, he envisioned the team breakout as follows. He, Aeryn, Istu, and Cris were the primary shooters of the group, with Kylo as a fifth as necessary. Zaim was fully capable in that role, but his refusal to go along with anything Bryan concocted made him less than suitable. He was better suited to fly them in and out as the mission profiles required.

Seren was the medical support, and Bryan privately laughed as all Marines called the corpsman "Doc." Azizi was a non-combatant, period. Her role as tactical support was well understood. If Bryan wanted something to go boom, she was his go-to girl to build it. Unfortunately, Bryan was to learn that his focus on the combat readiness of those involved was slightly off the mark for Wyndom’s first mission.

After a lengthy discussion, it had been agreed that Cris should meet with the Enforcer Colonel before they departed Klaxion to discuss details of her proposal. Zaim was uncomfortable with the human’s elevated role in these events, even if it was all in his mind, and Bryan had no objections to sitting back and following the captain’s lead.

Returning to the small café where Bryan had previously encountered the woman, the captain sat patiently until she appeared just minutes later.

“I presume you have a reply to my offer?” She asked as she took the seat across from Cris.

“Yes, we have agreed to allow you to convince us that this is in our best interests. I should warn you that Bryan and the rest of our crew are very resistant to hunter-killer missions. If you envision us as an Enforcer version of the Bounty Hunters Guild, you will be very disappointed,” he began.

“Bryan and Aeryn make an excellent team if it comes to that, but there is no joy for them in that type of work,” he added.

“You misunderstand my intentions, I think,” Wyndom replied lightly.

“Do I?” Cris pressed.

Wyndom paused, and Cris was sure she was gathering her thoughts for a convincing argument in her favor.

“I am not interested in the human’s ability to end life, though he has proven adept. I have scores of crude instruments at my disposal to achieve that goal in quantity. You and your crew have demonstrated subtle and refined skills. The hijacking and extortion of the casino and the recovery of the stolen payroll on Earth, both without loss of life on either side, better reflect the talents I seek,” she offered.

Cris noted she had used the word recovery instead of the more truthful theft. She painted a picture that elevated their efforts from thievery to a more altruistic effort.

“And the killings over the kidnapping of my crew?” Cris pressed.

“Rygon crossed a line that he should never have tested. What was it Aeryn said about the wrath of humans? The events speak for themselves, but again, that is not why I seek you out,” she emphasized.

“We have done jobs like this in the past, so why now?” Cris countered.

Wyndom seemed to smile inwardly, like she had a secret.

“You tried once before to recover the payroll on Earth, but failed,” she stated.

“Yes, you know we did,” Cris affirmed

“Then why were you successful now and not then. And the resolution with Rygon, who formulated the solution to your confrontation,” she pressed.

“Bryan,” Cris confirmed.

“Your people have always been innovative and resourceful and can think independently. He makes them better,” the Enforcer Colonel proposed.

Cris reflected on her words for some time before acting.

“You assume much,” Cris commented as he took the data chip from where she had placed it on the table.

“Not really. In the broader context, the offer is reasonable, regardless of one's perspective. It elevates your safety and security to have someone like me looking out for you, and it provides a steady income for those periods when times are hard and work is scarce,” she replied as she stood.

“How do we contact you?” he asked, looking up as he remained in his chair.

“Everything you need is there: comm links, security codes, and call signs. I have dubbed your crew the A-Team,” she said as she scoffed at a private joke.

“I don’t understand?” Cris replied in bewilderment.

“Ask Bryan, he can explain it. By the way, tell him he is Murdock, and not B.A.,” she finished and then walked into the crowd.

Chapter 28

Independence

“Mad Dog Murdock was declared medically insane,” Bryan explained as he walked through the exploits of the TV show.

“What is a mad dog?” Seren questioned.

Bryan remembered Seren had met a dog on Earth and had some reference to the animal that the others did not.

“When applied like this, it means someone who is usually aggressive, probably uncontrollable, and very likely dangerous to all those around them,” he explained.

He knew this was Wyndom’s way of demonstrating her understanding of human culture for Bryan’s benefit. It was a power play, pure and simple. It said to him, " I know you better than you think I do”. He also had to acknowledge that her humor was in line with his.

“The A-Team was a show about a fictional team of former United States Army Special Forces who worked as mercenaries while on the run from the Military Police for a crime they didn't commit,” he began.

“Every show began with, A crack commando unit was sent to prison by a military court for a crime they didn't commit. These men promptly escaped from a maximum security stockade to the Los Angeles underground. Today, still wanted by the government, they survive as soldiers of fortune. If you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find them, maybe you can hire... the A-Team,” he finished.

“It does kind of sound like us, especially you,” Aeryn conceded.

It had been a very long time since Bryan had seen any of the popular shows, but in a big picture context, they skirted the law to do what was right. Oh and they blew up a lot of shit in the process, so he had to agree with Aeryn.

“The irony is not lost,” Bryan confirmed.

“And the job?” Zaim asked, uninterested in human pop culture lessons.

“Well, first off, Bryan will be happy as we are instructed not to kill anyone,” Cris opened.

“That’s a great start,” he replied sarcastically.

“What it is, is a rescue, with a twist,” he began.

“Do tell,” Bryan blurted, his curiosity at the statement overriding the earlier musings on the A-Team references.

“The parties involved might not wish to be rescued,” Cris explained.

“How is that possible?” Aeryn asked.

“Say that again?” Kylo asked.

“It seems the conditions under which they were taken were grossly misunderstood, and the better analogy is they were lured there and now refuse to leave,” Cris expanded.

“What sort of place is this?” Aeryn questioned.

“Wyndom noted in her summary that we should ask Bryan to explain communes,” Cris replied, indicating the human.

“A commune? She wants us to raid a commune and rescue people?” Bryan blurted.

“That is the word in the documents, but as it has no translation, would you be so kind as to enlighten us?” Cris asked.

“I am not surprised about that, the lack of translation that is,” Bryan laughed as he considered how to describe the meaning.

“These things were big on Earth for a while, particularly in the 20th century, although I imagine there were some before and there are others still around today,” he began.

“In simple terms, they are a group of people, usually young people, who live together and share everything equally. They share the work, the spoils, and all their possessions,” he explained in summary.

“Here, they are illegal as they operate outside the Interstellar Laws that apply to colonies and ungoverned settlements. All civilized societies have to contribute, and no one is exempt. Startup colonies are permitted a grace period as they establish themselves, but mines and farms pay out on day one as the product goes to market,” Cris explained.

Bryan hadn’t considered that most communes on Earth pursued tax-free status as religious or charitable organizations. He had even heard some classified as social clubs to avoid government intervention in their affairs. He imagined that the alien powers that be had no such considerations in avoiding the taxman.

“Who are these people we need to extricate?” Bryan questioned.

“That’s where it gets interesting. Wyndom doesn’t explain who they are or how they came to be there. She lists a group of five that we need to recover and return to a specific non-Enforcer medical facility. We are to recover them even if they refuse to go,” Cris answered.

“So it’s a snatch and grab, wonderful,” Bryan exclaimed.

It was clear to him that the reference was meaningless to the other, but by now, they had become used to his human allusions. Usually, they just ignored him, but in this case, the declaration returned looks of worry, like he was identifying an acquainted behavior that none of them wished to become familiar with.

“Now that I think about it, the whole commune, snatch and grab, and A-Team thing goes hand in hand for human pop culture. Wyndom is playing with us,” Bryan reasoned.

“Perhaps, but the job is real, and we need to decide if we want to do it and if so, how?” Cris replied.

“Are these places dangerous?” Seren asked.

“Only to your psyche. The whole peace, love, and dope thing promotes everyone sharing everything equally, including partners, and you get high while you do it. Now that I think about it, it aligns with many of the things you already do. No romantic attachments and shared child rearing, all follow the communal living program,” he explained.

Bryan could see the reference didn’t make sense to the others, but none questioned his observations.

“Then, where is the issue with living like that?” Aeryn questioned.

“No personal property, for one thing, everything belongs to everyone. This ship isn’t Cris’s, it's ours, and Istu, for example, might resist giving up all his coins to create one general fund that everyone draws from,” he started.

“That’s never happening,” the big man snorted.

“Exactly, even in the best group dynamics, that line is not the same for each individual, and where they misalign, conflict ensues. The most successful implementations are those where everyone has nothing, so there's nothing to fight over. If any one person rises above the others, then it transitions from a commune and turns into a personality cult,” Bryan stated.

“There is no leader?” Azizi asked.

“There is not supposed to be one. That places a single person over the others in decision-making. They either adhere to majority rules or the all-or-nothing approach. Everyone is open to making their own suggestions, but the final decisions are in some form communal and not singular,” he explained.

“We need to get more details on this place, but I suspect this is more like a bastardized art colony where there are still limits to what gets shared, but you can keep your stuff. I am sure everyone chips in on the bigger issues like work and supporting the community as a whole,” he speculated.

“We need to get someone inside to scout it out and confirm what we are dealing with,” Aeryn observed.

“Cris, can I go through the data? We are making many decisions based on what I know about human behavior. Before we send anyone into the meat grinder, I want to confirm my assumptions are correct, as they apply to a group of aliens,” Bryan said.

“Certainly, that’s a good idea. Most of it is visuals with audio, and Aeryn or Seren can assist with the written materials if your lessons aren’t up to that level. Wyndom indicates that they have been unable to insert anyone undercover into the closed society as they cannot assimilate convincingly,” Cris commented.

“If I am right, Azizi is probably the closest thing we have to a true commune resident. Open and free, she can go naked among the clothed without judgment and be whatever color she wants to be. Best of all, she won't be pretending,” Bryan said.

“Sounds like we have the beginnings of a plan,” Cris said as he eyed the engineer.

----*----

Scouting mission

After reading through all the data provided, Bryan realized the whole commune thing was disappointing. The initial results of the overhead survey confirmed that these followers of the free to be you and me way of life didn’t feel the need to go without. Before making orbit, Kylo and Zaim sent a drone to survey the planet. Like it did for the mine rescue, the device mapped the area of interest, unseen to those below. Then it returned to Independence rather than transmit its findings and announcing its presence in high orbit.

Instead of makeshift huts and ox-powered plows in the fields, they saw a relatively modern settlement with well-constructed shelters and robotic power equipment turning the soil for their crops. Several smaller structures could be seen surrounding a large warehouse, which likely housed the farming equipment when not in use and served as storage for the harvest.

Pastures for domestic animals were marked out with fencing, and the life signs of almost one hundred persons were detected. Overall, it was better supplied and organized than any of the company-sponsored colonies they had seen recently, which raised the question of who was funding the operation.

“Captain, we are being scanned,” Kylo announced as the Independence established orbit.

“Very high tech for a commune,” Bryan commented as he reviewed the video feed.

“I am beginning to wonder if that word translates accurately?” Zaim commented.

“Me too,” Bryan replied as he realized he and Zaim might have agreed for the first time.

“Remember, if anyone asks, we are a cargo ship looking for work,” Cris confirmed.

“According to her notes, Wyndom stated that after the failed attempts to infiltrate the community, a regular Enforcer team was sent to locate the five parties of interest in the last few weeks, but with no success. While they were allowed in unopposed, it was thought that the other residents hid the five away,” Bryan offered.

After dissecting Wyndom’s data, it was suggested that the reason she chose the Independence crew for this mission was precisely that fact. As a cargo ship, it was not uncommon for those in their profession to cold call settlements looking for short and long-haul opportunities too small to make the job boards. In addition, illegal settlements like this one would never post such requests publicly, as it would draw unwanted attention to their operations.

The entire focus of this visit was to get Azizi into the community to survey the situation, evaluate the security technology, and eventually act as an inside woman to facilitate the snatch and grab.

“Send out the request to land and see if we can get a meet and greet,” Cris ordered before leaving the bridge.

----*----

Independence

“As much as I hate to say this, maybe we should send Kylo and Zaim down with Azizi instead of us?” Bryan offered as the group discussed their next moves.

The hail Kylo sent to the planet was responded to, and the crew was invited to land a shuttle. They were cautioned that no weapons were permitted and any acts of aggression would not be tolerated. Bryan wondered how the peaceful community enforced those rules, but dismissed the thought for now, as they had no intention of causing trouble. Quite the opposite, as they wanted their mole to be invited in, welcomed with open arms, as they say.

Once Azizi was embedded, she could assess the security situation before taking any actions that might inspire retaliation from the community.

“Why?” Cris replied.

“That’s predominantly a Cheizat commune, right? They are all about resisting the man and choosing their individual path to be free to express their inner self. We all represent that oppression, if not in action, at least by appearance. Azizi comes from a highly repressed society, and in some ways, even more controlling than the Enforcer way of life,” Bryan began, using the hippie terms he hoped would translate.

“Go on,” Cris prompted, not questioning the statement.

“Everyone but us four will be more easily accepted in their midst,” Bryan offered as he pointed to Aeryn, Seren, Cris, and himself.

The data on community membership provided by Wyndom explained a demographic diversity that skewed heavily toward Cheizat, which was unusual for colonies. Other compatible species were represented in the participant mixture, but they were biologically well-matched and could potentially sire offspring should they find a suitable mate. To Bryan’s eye, there was an intent here to grow their numbers internally and not depend on external recruitment to populate the community.

Azizi represented an attempt to fulfill that desire, while Kylo and Zaim could not meet that need as they were biologically incompatible species.

“I agree with your thoughts. Kylo, do you and Zaim think you can handle this?” he asked.

“Who gets to be captain?” Zaim asked.

----*----

Commune

Azizi understood her role in the plan and was excited to be included as an active member of the landing party for the first time. Best of all, she was to be herself and not suppress her natural behavior, which was why she stood naked and in a multicolored palette next to the pilot and navigator as they exited the shuttle.

If anyone in the approaching group had any objections to her appearance, none gave the slightest indication. The shuttle had set down in a clearing near the warehouse, and it was believed the locals used it for shipping and receiving from space.

“Greetings and welcome, how can we help you?” one of the females in the small party asked.

It was decided that Kylo should do the talking for the landing party, as Zaim tended to be gruff and unwelcoming, and Azizi was to appear shy and in want of a home off the ship. To put her in charge would burst the illusion. Besides, Kylo had a natural appeal when one got past his predatory appearance.

“Greetings. We are a freelance hauler looking for work,” Kylo replied in an easy-natured manner.

“How did you find us? We are not on the star charts,” the woman replied warily.

“And we are not registered with the interstellar transport offices. None of us feels beholden to a government that doesn’t meet our needs. With attitudes like ours, information is shared organically, among like-minded people, and we all live and operate outside the norms,” Kylo replied without answering the question directly.

“That is true enough,” the woman replied softly, accepting the information in a positive light.

The group from the commune consisted of half a dozen individuals, all of whom were Cheizat in appearance, and included a mix of male and female members. A few openly stared at Azizi, giving both Zaim and Kylo barely a glance.

“You are Gazht?” a man asked with interest.

“Yes,” she replied softly.

“It is unusual to see one so…. Unreserved,” another commented.

“I am unwelcome on my home world because I refuse to conform. Why should I repress my nature to please others?” she blurted.

“Many of us are here for the same reason. May I say you are wonderful?” the man offered with a bright, welcoming smile.

Azizi’s colors shifted even more brilliantly in response to the comment, the praise inciting a natural reaction, one she didn't need to fake.

“Do you travel these stars often?” another questioned.

“We have recently arrived in this sector. As you might imagine, we need to keep moving to stay ahead of the tax collector,” Kylo replied while appearing deadpan.

Azizi recalled that Bryan often teased Kylo when he tried to smile like a humanoid. His rows of sharp teeth came into full display, and even she agreed it made the navigator look hungry.

“Please, let's go inside and see if we can't find a way to help one another,” the first female offered before leading the way into one of the nearby structures.

Chapter 29

Independence

Bryan was second-guessing his proposal to let the bridge crew take point on this. Not that he didn’t trust them. Well, he trusted Kylo anyway. It was more the loss of control, as he preferred to be in the thick of things. This was sitting on the sidelines while others did the work he felt he should be responsible for.

This mission had a certain unspoken undertone. Wyndom had painted this job as Bryan’s to interpret and plan, a concept not unnoticed by the rest of the crew. He wasn’t sure how he felt about her insertion into their lives beyond the uneasy feeling that their future was no longer their own to determine. Then again, the closest he had ever come to a carefree, unencumbered lifestyle was roaming the desert in his Jeep, and look where that got him.

His happiness here in space came as something of a surprise. He couldn’t say that his life in the desert was unhappy, but the second chance he had received after saving Cris’s life had brought him closer to family than he had experienced since childhood. It was that sense of family that drove his inner need to protect all those he now held close.

“How are we doing, Mad Dog?” Aeryn asked as she entered the bridge, where Bryan monitored the communications board.

Wyndom’s reference to Bryan as Mad Dog Murdock had struck Aeryn as hilariously funny after it was explained, and she embraced his persona as the insane member of the crew with gusto. By his estimation, there were at least two others he felt better deserving of the moniker, but Aeryn’s fascination with the title surpassed any opinion he might voice.

“No word. I wish they had left a channel open for us to eavesdrop,” he complained.

“If the locals detected that, it would have raised suspicion. We need to trust that they are doing the right thing and be ready if not,” Aeryn commiserated, leaving Bryan to his misery.

----*----

Commune

“I am surprised to see a Gazht among your crew. Having her as the ship’s engineer is very fortunate for you,” the man commented to Kylo.

“We picked her up a few lens back, her people were beating the bushes looking for her, and she needed a place to go to escape their persecution,” Kylo replied as they sat in an oversized common area.

“That’s an odd phrase, beating the bushes?” another questioned.

Kylo had been one of the crew working to learn more about Bryan’s people and, as a result, had picked up several of their colloquialisms he found appealing. Fortunately, Brigmuns' embarrassment didn’t show in humanoid physiological terms.

“A reference to flushing your prey when hunting game,” he explained while avoiding the source.

“Indeed,” came the reply.

Kylo suspected that the individual imagined his people being chased by a Brigmuns hunting party and found the inference distasteful. Kylo hadn't the heart to tell the man his species was not on their preferred dining menu. He was familiar with the long-standing prejudices between his species and others, and he took it all in stride.

He did find a certain satisfaction in being perceived as an apex predator. He was also happy that Zaim, a person much more likely to be violent and aggressive, was considered a warm and fuzzy species. He still recalled Bryan’s first meeting with the pilot, referring to him as the ship’s pet. In all, it supported the notion that appearances can be deceiving, a common human saying.

“She is happy on your ship?” the first man pressed.

“You would need to ask her that. She pays her way as a ship’s engineer but is free to go at any port of call,” Kylo explained, laying out their cover story.

The goal of inserting Azizi into the community appeared to be taking root, and Kylo had to fight the urge to suggest the option himself. All had agreed it needed to come from the colonists to prevent unwanted suspicion.

“We do have some cargo we need shipped to market, so it is fortuitous that you arrived just now. The destination is Corot 7, is that possible?” the woman asked.

Kylo was familiar with the super planet. It was an up-and-coming colony world where the excessive size made it difficult for a single corporation to cover all the settlement costs. Several companies had pooled their resources and carved out regions on the surface for their efforts. It was a trial concept and sported a large central market for all parties to resupply. It was also three sols away.

“How much cargo?” Zaim asked, surprising the others as it was the first words he had spoken since their arrival.

“Let us show you,” the woman said as she pointed to the large building across the way.

“I am going to look around, you go,” Azizi declared, receiving a nod of understanding from Zaim and Kylo.

Half the locals in the meeting took Azizi on a community tour while Zaim and Kylo inspected the cargo stored in the vast warehouse.

----*----

Commune

“Your settlement is very nice, much more modern and comfortable than I expected,” Azizi commented to one of the women in her tour group.

“We believe that living simply does not mean going without. Besides, we were specially selected to come here and make a new home for ourselves. This was the reward,” she added cryptically.

“Who paid for all this? I have never seen a company colony so well built and supplied,” Azizi said.

“It is not a corporate venture. The government provided the funds for our living arrangements. It was conducted in conjunction with researchers working on crop development. It was said they wanted to create more robust and hearty strains that would readily take to the soil and speed plant growth, no matter the environment,” another explained.

“You say was?” Azizi asked.

“The research is ongoing, but it is not as active as it once was,” came the response.

“I see very few working in the fields. With all this automation, you must be free to pursue other activities beyond the needs of simple survival,” Azizi pressed.

“Yes, those you see in the fields are monitoring the progress of the growth and estimating yields. The equipment does almost all of the physical labor. As a result, we live a life where we can pursue our passions. We have artists, musicians, and writers who work tirelessly on creating inspiring and enriching works. Others like you exhibit performance art, their bodies a canvas for the eyes, and their mimicry intended to delight the senses,” a man offered.

Azizi knew there were performers in other cultures than her own who mastered the ability to mimic animals in nature or assume the identity of famous past individuals to reenact their exploits with added song and dance. From what she heard from the occupants, this was definitely what Bryan labeled an artist’s colony. It focused on providing a nurturing environment for unstructured creation without demands on the contributor or expectations of monetary value.

She struggled to hold back her desire to explain that she wasn’t colorful for the benefit of others. Her displays were a natural outpouring of her inner feelings. She set the misunderstanding aside as their impression of her suited the mission, and that was all that mattered. If they considered her an expression artist, it was okay with her. Although she did have to admit it was also a bit thrilling, even if they misunderstood her motivations.

“You know, you should stay behind while your comrades run to Corot 7 to deliver the produce. That would allow you to experience the true freedoms the colony can provide,” a woman commented as she referenced Azizi’s lack of attire and colorful skin.

“It is something to consider,” she replied with a slight smile.

Now that she had been invited to stay, locating the targets was her top priority.

----*----

Independence

“They took the bait,” Kylo announced as the crew gathered to review the landing party’s success.

“They want us to do a run to Corot 7 and have Azizi stay to guarantee our return with payment,” the Brigmuns added in concern.

“That is not what I had in mind. I am uncomfortable leaving her behind alone while we are sols away,” Cris responded.

“We could offer them payment up front to remove the condition, but the entire plan was to get Azizi embedded into their community,” Zaim said.

“I can do this alone, I’ll be fine,” Azizi pleaded as the rest of the crew prepared to take a shuttle back down to the surface.

“If we take this job, we will be gone for up to seven sols. You will be here all alone, without support,” Cris explained.

Bryan agreed with Kylo, leaving Azizi to fend for herself, even in the benign environment, wasn’t the plan. They didn’t need to be there with her, but someone needed to be ready to pull her out at a moment’s notice should things go sideways. Considering the options, they needed to maintain the illusion of a cargo carrier while remaining engaged in the effort to recover the targets at the earliest opportunity. That thought gave Bryan an idea.

“I can take Rogue and hide out on one of the moons until you get back, that way she’s not alone. You don’t need me for a cargo run, and I can drop in anytime if she needs help,” Bryan suggested.

“Not without me, you're not. We can keep you updated the entire time you are gone,” Aeryn added as she stepped beside him, talking to Cris.

Both could see from the look on Cris’s face that he was evaluating the risk of their offer. Having his best combat team standing by while the ship was absent wasn’t the worst thing any of them had heard of.

“That could work, get Rogue ready,” Cris finally nodded and then headed off.

“How can we talk to Independence when they are lightyears away in a jump?” Bryan asked, feeling stupid for only now realizing the physical challenges of such communications.

Kylo stood in silence as he considered the question. Speaking to Bryan as one might a small child, he thought through his words carefully.

“Do you have any ideas on Earth describing linked particles?” he began.

“Quantum Entanglement? Yes, I know as much about that as I do about Interstellar governmental decision-making. It's all theoretical and unstable,” he replied in good humor.

“Yes, well, we found a way to stabilize it eons ago, and it allows for interstellar communications with imperceptible delays. I can instantly communicate with someone on Pantera Major from here, as the linked particles oscillate at variable matched frequencies,” he finished.

Bryan was sure there was a lot Kylo left out, but for his purposes, he received a basic understanding of how it worked, and that was all that mattered. Independence and Rogue could maintain contact no matter how many light years apart, which relieved Cris of some of his worries.

“Alright, let's get the ship ready. We will need supplies for a meg or more,” Aeryn said before heading off.

----*----

Commune

Over the first few sols that Azizi was living in the community, she diligently pursued her primary goal of identifying and locating the five missing Cheizat that they were contracted to find and return home. She still had no idea why the government wanted these people returned to them so badly, as far as she could tell, there was no criminal activity related to their evading capture.

As part of that effort, she openly embraced the social nature of the settlement, doing her best to blend in as she made herself at home. In doing so, she gradually shifted her opinion about the locals from crazy to sane as their acceptance of her natural behavior was exhilarating. The crew of Independence had acknowledged her for who she was, but still only tolerated her eccentricities to a point, or so she felt. Here, they celebrated her uniqueness and embraced her natural behavior.

“Have you ever considered leaving this place?” she asked one of the five targeted for retrieval after locating the group.

“Never, this is my home. We have everything we could want and the freedom to choose our path,” the woman replied before bidding her good day.

The others were just as adamant that their lives were happy and complete, and the work they did, while not forthcoming about its nature, was all they wanted in life. Azizi was beginning to feel bad about her role in stripping these five of their freedom for the sake of some faceless government official.

She began to wonder what it would be like to live here forever.

----*----

Rogue

During the same few days, Bryan and Aeryn took turns monitoring the settlement and its occupants, tracking Azizi as she melded into the society on the surface. The small ship sat tucked away on the smallest of the three moons circling the commune’s planet. The location wasn’t selected because it was the closest to the surface, although its orbit inside the other two lunar orbs was helpful. The advantage was an almost perfect geosynchronous orbit over the settlement.

Bryan was sure the circumstances were not accidental, as it provided the community with a celestial night light, with the moon glowing brightly in the sky every night. Kylo calculated that the discrepancy in its orbital speed would eventually place the orb over the horizon in the night sky in a few thousand years, lost to those living below, something Bryan doubted anyone lost sleep over.

“Anything new?” Aeryn asked as she entered the bridge, where Bryan sat on duty.

“Nothing unless you count Azizi’s new fascination with sculpture. I expect Seren to press the virtues of art in society, but Azizi has always been more in tune with finely crafted machinery,” he scoffed.

Every day, the engineer checked in with her security team, providing details on her efforts to locate and identify the objects of her mission. With each report, more and more of the colony's attractions spilled forth from her dialogue. Each time she checked in, Azizi had a new favorite pastime that fascinated her and inspired a desire to pursue more expressionist formats.

“She has located all five targets,” Aeryn confirmed as she looked over his shoulder to view the console displays.

“Yes, and I have locked on their life signs. They can't hide anymore, and we can pick them up anytime,” Bryan replied as he sensed her face beside his.

From the smell, it was clear that his partner had just cleaned up and put on a fresh set of clothes. Both cabins on Rogue had a complete bathroom, holding a shower, sink, and toilet. Initially, Bryan had marveled at how the aliens had such similar toiletries, until he found that the shower had no water and the toilet literally sucked the waste products from his body. Seren assured him both were safe for humans, and the shower's technology left one feeling renewed, though he remained dubious.

The simple explanation of how it worked didn’t reassure him. There were tiny scanners, like lasers, that identified anything not inherent to the individual and destroyed it. After the initial scan, a sonic wash was performed to remove the debris, leaving his skin tingling afterward. The first time he tried it, his body hair was identified as a foreign body, and adjustments to the system were needed to recognize it as natural to his species before it stopped removing it.

The loss aided in his need to pass as Cheizat, but Bryan insisted he liked his body as it was and didn’t need the alteration. A quick MRT treatment restored the lost hair, the earlier eradication leaving Bryan feeling like a naked mole rat.

“What time is it on the surface?” she asked distractedly.

He felt the hot breath on his neck as she nuzzled him, placing kisses on his cheek and neck.

“Bedtime for them, they all just settled down for the night,” he affirmed.

Suddenly, Bryan was spun in his seat, and Aeryn straddled him, sitting in his lap as she reached past and tapped a few buttons. The action pressed her chest into his face, a not entirely unpleasant experience.

“There, I set the automated monitor. If anyone strays from their beds, we will be notified,” she declared before pulling back and then kissing him hard on the lips.

“Time for a little relaxation of our own,” she declared before taking him by the hand and leading him out of the cockpit and into a nearby cabin.

As he was led away, Bryan had to admit that even with all this talk about happiness and contentment and the fact he didn’t live in a carefree commune, his life didn’t suck.

----*----

Commune

“Bryan, I can't do it,” Azizi explained over the communications device she had secreted in with her meager belongings.

“Can't do what?” he replied as Aeryn looked over his shoulder in the image on her unit.

Azizi paused as she prepared to deliver the disappointing news.

“I can’t make anyone leave this paradise. I have located all five Cheizat, and they seem happy here. We should respect that,” she offered.

“Azizi, our mission isn’t to determine their mental state; it's to return them to Wyndom for whatever reason they have,” Aeryn replied.

“That’s just it, who says they need to leave? What right do they have to make that decision?” the Gazht questioned.

“For all we know, they did bad things before and need to be held accountable,” Bryan reasoned.

“I don’t believe that, no one I have met here is anything but kind and considerate of everyone around them. Not once has anyone questioned my nudity or skin color. I haven’t worn clothing in sols and it’s been marvelous,” she beamed.

“Okay, when you come home, you can be naked all you want, we won't say a word,” Aeryn said as she tried to placate the woman.

“I’ll even stare, I promise,” Bryan added.

“About that,” Azizi began after a deep breath.

“I’m not coming back, I am staying here,” she blurted.

“Say again?” Bryan stammered.

“I belong here. These are my people, my community,” she explained.

“Azizi, you can't stay there. Who is going to show Independence the love she needs?” Bryan pleaded.

The reference to Independence gave her pause, as a flash of longing flooded through her body. Memories of her work, the camaraderie of the crew, and her playful interactions with the human pressed against the newfound sense of community and belonging.

As quickly as it came, the emotions passed, and she was focused on the here and now once more.

“My mind is made up, please don’t try to make me leave,” she replied before cutting the connection.

Chapter 30

Rogue

“This was supposed to be a simple snatch and grab, nothing complicated. With Wyndom involved, we should have known better,” Bryan complained to Aeryn as the two worked to decide their next steps.

“What has gotten into Azizi? This isn’t like her at all. She is not a joiner, well not like that anyway?” Aeryn replied as the two considered their options.

“I don’t know, but she is not herself. I mean, she loves strutting about in the buff any time, but she is far too serious about this place. She hates any ideas of relational commitment. I think she is drinking the Kool-Aid and buying into the lifestyle,” Bryan murmured as he thought over the circumstances.

“I don’t know if it's because of what she eats or drinks, I just know it's not like her to behave this way and abandon us,” Aeryn replied, not getting the reference.

“I hate to say it, but I think we need to get a hold of Independence and update them on the situation,” Bryan stated.

“Agreed,” Aeryn replied with a nod.

Within a few minutes, they had the others on the comm link.

“Cris, we have a situation,” Bryan began as he and Aeryn sat in the cockpit.

Cris and the others listened intently as the pair walked them through the activities of the last few days.

“You didn’t see anything out of the ordinary during all that time? No visitors or off-world interference,” Cris said as he considered the new information.

“Nothing. Azizi was becoming more integrated into the settlement events, as planned, including demonstrations of her natural abilities in colors and textures,” Aeryn expanded.

It had been news to Bryan that the Gazht could modify the surface texture of her dermis, making it smooth or rough as a human might exhibit goose bumps. In her case, it was more like silk to sandpaper, but it wasn’t something she usually did, like the color shifts. Aeryn explained that the colors were at times subconscious, while the other required concentration.

“That’s unusual behavior for her, to put on a show for crowds like that,” Seren mused.

Bryan had to agree. All the time he had known her, she could be a little wild and flamboyant in public, but her typical exhibitionism was limited to friends and not strangers, and especially not planned demonstrations. Her actions were always spontaneous and unplanned.

“Did she expose us to the others?” Cris asked with concern.

“Not that we can tell. She is holding our confidence but refuses to assist,” Aeryn said.

“Additionally, the targets’ locations remain unchanged. I would expect if they knew we were coming, they would have tried to hide them by now,” Bryan confirmed.

“We need a new plan,” Cris said.

After the two walked the others through the updated status of the entire colony, Seren spoke up.

“Can you get me scans of the people there, and Azizi in particular? I have a baseline for her already and can use that for comparison,” she said.

“We can scan the entire community from here,” Aeryn confirmed.

“No, you need to go down there and get close to them. It would be best if you could get blood and tissue samples as well, but I can work with what you gather from a few detailed close sensor scans,” she replied.

“We will do what we can, but what should we do about Azizi in the meantime? We need to hit the rewind button,” Bryan said.

“Try to stay in contact with her and monitor her activities, but don’t push her. Once we get back, we can focus on getting her and the others to safety. Most of all, get Seren the data she needs,” Cris confirmed before cutting the connection.

----*----

Commune

Bryan hated the idea of sneaking up on Azizi, but he and Aeryn agreed that no one else in the settlement could know he was there. For him to appear unexpectedly would only alert the others to the deception underway. He planned on their special bond to carry over whatever local influence had gripped her mind. He had to believe he could reach through the fog of whatever had her in its grasp long enough to get what he needed and get out before anyone was the wiser.

In planning the trip to the surface, he ran Azizi’s wanderings through the ship’s systems, looking for a pattern he could use to his advantage. As luck would have it, she made the same trip every night from the communal hall to her sleeping quarters at roughly the same time. The trip was always alone, and she would patiently stroll between the buildings as she went to her room to go to bed.

The pair had to take Rogue down to the planet's surface and slip into a field of trees miles away from the settlement and beyond the colony sensors. From there, Bryan took one of the motorcycles Azizi had modified, which seemed ironic under the circumstances, and rode to the edge of the area that held all the living and working structures.

As the motorcycle was far smaller than the robotic equipment constantly roving the area around the clock, he would appear as backscatter to any alarm system designed to alert on large vehicles and flying ships.

“Thankfully, Azizi provided a detailed report on the security and management systems for the community before going over to the dark side,” Bryan commented to Aeryn as they planned his insertion.

Leaving the bike at the edge of the clearing, positioned for a fast getaway, he worked his way deeper into the settlement until he reached the spot they selected. There he waited as he took in all the sights and sounds around him. It wasn’t long before the familiar form of the female engineer emerged from one of the larger buildings and began to make her way toward Bryan.

As she strolled past him, unaware of his presence, he grabbed her from behind, using one hand to cover her mouth while he wrapped the other around her body to control her actions.

“Shh, Shh, Shh, it's me,” Bryan hushed her as he tried to calm the struggling form wrapped up in his arms.

“Bryan, is that you?” she exclaimed as he released his hand over her mouth.

By now, she had stopped struggling and relaxed in his grasp.

“Yes, I’m here,” he replied, releasing her and turning her to face him.

An amazed Bryan fielded a passionate kiss from her before she released him, her expression one of surprise and happiness. Regaining her composure, she looked up into his eyes. He could see a mixture of longing and confusion in her face, a reflection of whatever had her in its grasp.

“Why are you here?” she asked in confusion.

“I came to check on you, I am worried about you,” he replied, the truth of the statement aiding his guilt.

A flash of a warm smile crossed her lips before being replaced by a stern look of disapproval.

“I’m fine, and you shouldn’t be here. These people are happy here, I am happy here, and we need you all to respect that,” she offered firmly.

“Aren’t you happy to see me?” he pressed as he worked to gauge her feelings toward him and the crew of Independence.

“Of course, I am happy to see you. I miss you and the others, but I know in my heart that this place is not for you, as it is for me. You are too different,” she replied softly.

The entire time they talked, Bryan kept both hands on Azizi’s arms in a show of intimacy and affection, occasionally running the palms up and down her upper arms.

“Oh my God, I scratched you,” he blurted as he rubbed at the spot where a part of his clothing must have dug into her side while she struggled earlier.

“It’s nothing,” she replied, letting him tend to her.

Kissing him once more, she pushed him away.

“You need to go, now,” she said firmly as she spun from him and hurried away.

“Did you get it?” he asked as he walked away from the settlement, heading toward his bike.

“Yup, blood, skin, and chemical samples all recorded from Azizi. The other sensors are still collecting data,” Aeryn replied.

Bryan had exercised his creeping skills earlier to plant sensors on buildings around the compound. They could continue to take readings from all the residents in those units while they waited for the others to arrive.

“Affectionate little thing, wasn’t she?” Aeryn teased, having been monitoring the entire episode.

While Azizi loved to tease him, she rarely threw herself at him like that so aggressively. Her typical approach was to draw him in and let him make the first move toward passion, and not the other way around, as was Aeryn and Seren’s style.

“Just a sign she is really messed up,” he confirmed.

----*----

Independence

By the time Independence returned to the planet after completing the produce delivery, Seren had processed all the information Bryan and Aeryn had gathered. The two hunkered down in Rogue decided to meet up with the mother ship at the solar system's edge while it was inbound, so by the time they returned to orbit, they were all one crew once more.

Kylo and Zaim returned to the surface to deliver the payment from Corot 7 and attempted to convince Azizi it was time to return to the ship. While she didn’t expose the charade they were playing out, she was adamant that her new home was here, and she was not returning to Independence. The locals took no part in the discussion, standing by in silent support of their newest member.

With no other options beyond physical force, the pair returned to Independence empty-handed.

“I’m not surprised,” Bryan replied after the episode was replayed from the recording device Kylo had hidden on his person.

“What’s going on down there?” Aeryn blurted.

“They are dosing them,” Seren confirmed as she stepped into the galley, where Cris, Aeryn, Kylo, and Bryan discussed the problem.

“Who is?” Aeryn asked as it seemed everyone below suffered from the same exposure.

“I don’t know, but someone is,” Seren responded.

With Azizi caught up in whatever was happening on the surface, the focus of their efforts became far more personal to everyone.

“What is it they are using?” Cris asked as he watched Seren take a seat.

“I don’t know that either, but I am seeing elevated readings in euphoric activity in the brain and hormonal secretions. It explains the behaviors surrounding local satisfaction in their situation and their refusal to leave. It also enlightens us on Azizi throwing herself at Bryan the way she did,” she explained to the others.

Everyone involved had seen the recording of Bryan’s conversation with the engineer, and rather than the hazing, he expected it reinforced their concerns over her erratic behavior.

“Do you know how they are administering it?” Cris pressed.

“No, only that it's not external, it's ingested in their food or drink. I discounted any airborne contaminants as I tested Bryan, Kylo, and Zaim, and none of them contained the chemicals found in Azizi’s blood and tissue. It could be native to the planet, a natural food product, or an artificial additive. I am not sure I can confirm this is intentional either,” she expanded.

“So it's not a kidnapping gone sideways?” Bryan questioned.

“It's my guess that this agent is getting into their diet somehow. It impacts the subject's mental state, the part that inspires a desire to remain near the source and provides a feeling of community,” Seren speculated.

“So it's an artificially induced motivation and not reflective of the subject's true feelings?” Bryan hypothesized.

“Exactly, I am positive if we remove her from the source, she will return to normal,” Seren confirmed.

“In that case, I think the time for talking is over,” Cris commented as he looked at the diagram of the compound.

----*----

Independence

“We need to find a way to get the six off planet without a fuss or fight,” Bryan commented as they worked to solve the dilemma.

“If we knew how they were getting the stuff, we could just intervene, you know, disrupt the process,” Aeryn offered.

“I can start testing everything they eat and drink, but that could take cycles to process. It might not be just one thing. It could be a combination of things, you know, a mixture of food and drink that is the problem,” Seren complained.

“Well, one thing is for sure, we are not going to talk them off the planet,” Kylo commented.

“Is there some kind of emergency that would make them want to leave the planet?” Istu asked.

“I’m not sure that would work. So long as they are conscious, the chemical would retain its hold on their mental state. We could try and drug them, but the others would fight to keep us from taking them,” Seren replied.

The statement struck a chord in the back of Bryan’s brain. How could they get the six off the planet without arguing with them about it and preventing the others from stopping you? The solution seemed too simple to be ignored.

“I think I have an idea,” he said with an evil smile.

----*----

Commune

From a tactical perspective, Bryan was not a big fan of moonlight. Dark, moonless nights gave him the most significant advantage in moving about unseen. However, that never seemed to be the case on this planet due to the geosynchronous position of the smallest orb in the night sky. In contrast, he was a big fan of light breezes as he went upwind of the community and began placing the canisters Seren had created in her medical lab.

It had taken her some time to create the right mixture to knock out all the species sleeping inside the buildings downwind and not get filtered out by the air processing systems. Based on a natural plant derivative, the gas would appear to be a native pollen, easing the victims into a deep slumber.

Once again, he and Aeryn had drawn the short straws due to the motorcycles, and the pair had taken Rogue to the surface and utilized the same distant field to land and hide the ship. Using the motorcycles as he had previously, they had fitted racks to carry the canisters needed for the effort.

“Aeryn, are you in position?” he asked as he worked to place the canisters in the identified locations, one after another.

“Finishing up now,” she replied.

There was a small sense of pride in the fact that Bryan had been instructing Aeryn on the finer points of clandestine insertion and exfiltration. The two had entered the area just outside the clearing for the settlement and worked the edge of the space without detection. Starting at opposite ends, they worked to place the sleeping agent in predetermined spots calculated to provide the best coverage.

“Hey there,” he said to Aeryn softly, as the two met in the middle.

A silent smile was her reply to the flirty greeting. Bryan could tell she was thoroughly enjoying the little adventure.

“We are a go,” Bryan transmitted as he and his partner donned masks to protect themselves from the effects of Seren’s work.

Without hesitation, they could hear the slight hissing as the canister spray nozzle began filling the air with the sleeping agent. Invisible to the naked eye, their masks had settings that showed the vapor as a building cloud.

“Looks good,” Aeryn reported as the vapor entered the settlement until the entire place looked like a fog bank on a California beach on an early summer morning.

“I am showing good saturation,” Seren reported from Independence as she monitored the spread from overhead.

Once they were sure everyone was out cold and there was no possibility of triggering the security systems, Kylo, Cris, Istu, and Seren brought the two shuttles down, with two crewmen to a craft, and landed the pair in the center of the community. Emerging from the rear doors, each team of two handled an antigravity litter between them. As usual, Zaim manned the pilot’s seat aboard Independence and supervised the traffic.

“Go get a litter for Azizi, we will go for the others,” Cris told Bryan and Aeryn as they stood nearby.

Making several trips, the six recovered the five Cheizat, their initial contract identified, and one very unconscious Gazht that Bryan was sure would be pretty angry once she woke. He felt a pang of regret as the serene look on her sleeping face reflected the contentment she had experienced under whatever drugs they were exposed to. Her contentment may have been artificially induced, but the experience was genuine to her.

“How long until this wears off?” he asked Seren.

“The villagers will wake tomorrow and won't know it ever happened. These six I plan to keep under for a while longer, until the agent wears off,” she replied as she pointed to the bodies on the litters.

“Okay, you go get the canisters and then return to Rogue, and we will rendezvous with you in orbit,” Cris instructed.

It had been agreed to leave no trace of their presence to aid in the deception. A string of canisters left behind might raise questions when it was discovered that six community members were also missing, vanished in the night. With that, Bryan and Aeryn hurried at the task without concern for detection, loading the empties in the same racks they had arrived in.

As he followed Aeryn on his motorcycle, Bryan dreaded the next part of the plan. The meeting that was to be the culmination of their night’s work wasn’t something he looked forward to.

Chapter 31

Enforcer Hospital Facility

Aeryn set Rogue down on the landing pad as Seren and Bryan prepared to receive the welcoming party standing just off to one side. From the monitor in the cargo hold, Bryan could see Wyndom standing among the others.

“We’re down,” he heard Aeryn over the intercom.

He hit the control that opened the rear door and watched it lower into the ramp position. As it did so, it revealed a group of Cheizat doctors and scientists impatiently waiting to get to their unconscious passengers. Before Bryan lay five unconscious forms, still on the litters they left the planet in, and all sedated and under Seren’s medical care.

“Welcome,” Wyndom announced as a flurry of activity erupted.

Five separate groups descended, one to each patient, and before Bryan could say anything, the first was being carried down the ramp and away into the facility beyond. Seren checked off each departing patient as she transferred the digital data to the medical teams in order of departure.

“Do you want to explain what was going on now?” Bryan asked as he stepped up next to the Colonel.

“Did you know that up to thirty-five percent of colonists become dissatisfied with their choice within the first cycle of residency, and up to fifty percent of those try to leave the colony they committed to by three cycles,” Wyndom began, the subject appearing irrelevant to the question.

Not bothering to wait for his reply, the woman continued.

“That particular settlement was initially started by Cheizat malcontents identified by their system as unsuitable for Enforcer assimilation. They had an inherent dissatisfaction with their lot in life and a restlessness that could not be quelled,” she added.

“So the government shuffled them off to a place where they could all be unhappy together?” Bryan questioned.

“In a manner. These five were not colonist dissidents. They were biological and behavioral scientists working to develop hybrid crops that would instill a sense of community and belonging in the population,” she explained.

The admission explained a lot to Bryan. That was why the location was better funded and the technology far more advanced than a traditional company-based effort. This was a Cheizat internment camp built for complainers who couldn’t be reeducated. He imagined Azizi would be horrified once the effects were flushed from her body, and she regained her mental state. That was precisely what her people tried to do to her in the Gazht home world.

“It appears they were successful,” Seren replied sarcastically.

“Beyond our hopes. The drive to recruit others into their way of life was an unexpected side effect. It makes sense as it is a fast way to grow your numbers beyond natural or artificial childbirth, and larger colonies survive better than small ones. Unfortunately, the exact means by which they attained their goals of introducing the negative thought inhibitor was not recorded, and we have no sure understanding of how they did it,” Wyndom complained.

“It was ingested. I can't determine what they ate or drank that supplied the mood modifiers, but it was definitely in their diet,” the little blonde doctor confirmed.

“And that is the dilemma. We don’t know if it was one crop or a combination of several that created the necessary conditions that led to their euphoric outlook on life,” the Colonel confirmed.

“So you needed them back to learn what they did?” Bryan offered.

“And so we could undo the damage they caused. Their efforts were successful, but as you can see, they were too successful. The intent was not to override the individual's free will. It was intended only to temper their discontent until a reasonable period had passed, allowing for the determination of actual incompatibility versus unrealistic expectations on the individual's part. Not all are cut from the frontier mold, as they say on Earth, and one malcontent can corrupt an entire community,” Wyndom explained.

“My initial diagnosis was that it can be reversed once the subject is removed from the source and a proper amount of time passes to flush the contaminant from their system. I have introduced a metabolic booster that should accelerate the process. I estimate it will be three to five sols before all effects are gone and they return to normal. The information is here,” Seren stated as she passed the Colonel a data chip.

“Hey, wait, what about the shipment of produce we delivered to Corot 7? Are any of these plants in that lot?” Bryan blurted in a panic.

He imagined this obsession spreading to other colonies, causing a regional rash of kidnappings as other colonies tried to recruit unwanted participants.

“We intercepted the shipment before it ever went to market. It's here now for the research team to use to uncover what they can of the true source or sources of the behavior modifier,” she replied calmly.

“Were you trying to weed out aggression?” Bryan pressed, fairly disgusted with the entire thing.

“Not at all, assertive behavior is an asset when taming a wilderness. What we wanted was an enhanced sense of community that increases the survival rate once people bond with one another and take a vested interest in the value of those around them. You of all people should relate to that,” Wyndom replied, the inference obvious to him.

Bryan was about to drop a snide remark in response when she cut him off.

“Oh, that reminds me, your compensation,” she proclaimed as she produced a sizable coin sack and dropped it in his hands..

“I added some hazard pay for the inconvenience to your Gazht crewmember. Tell everyone good work, you are to be complemented as you were every bit as successful as I had hoped with a minimal impact on those innocents around you,” she said with a smile and departed before they could exchange another word.

As he watched her walk away, Bryan doubted the compliment would be as well received as Wyndom hoped when they got back home.

----*----

Independence

Bryan wasn’t sure if the payday they received would be typical for the missions Wyndom tossed their way or if she was being overgenerous for the first effort. Either way, the crew received the money in good spirits, as the coins were distributed soon after Cris received the sack upon their return from the Enforcer hospital facility.

Azizi was conspicuously absent as she remained in the infirmary under sedation. Seren had kept her under the entire time they were gone and intended to keep her there until her euphoric levels returned to a natural state. No one wanted to restrain the engineer, and the holding cells were not an option, so this was the best choice.

“Is Azizi going to be alright?” Kylo asked, as if reading Bryan’s thoughts.

“In time, yes. Her body should be flushed of the toxins in a sol or two more, but I worry about the mental aftereffects. She was able to experience her version of utopia, a community free of judgment and repression. While the chemical impact was artificial, those memories are real,” Seren explained.

“You mean like Bryan and his Jeep. We all know it’s a pile of galt shit but he thinks its special,” Zaim offered.

“What is a galt anyway?” Bryan blurted.

“Pray you never meet one face to face,” Kylo cautioned.

“From all you lot have said, that’s not the end to be feared,” Bryan replied lightly.

----*----

Bryan’s cabin

“Where are we headed now?” Bryan asked Aeryn as the two lay in his bunk, enjoying some downtime after their stressful adventure.

“We are not leaving yet, but soon. Cris wants to put some distance between us and that art commune, in case they come looking for Azizi and the others,” Aeryn replied.

They had spent the last week in Klaxion waiting for Azizi to recover fully. The engineer was now awake and up and around, but not entirely back to her old self. Bryan occasionally thought he detected a slight disappointment in her mood. Everyone agreed that while she rationally understood her longing for the settlement was drug-induced, the utopian environment left a genuine impression that she wouldn’t easily shake off.

While docked to the space station, Seren had slipped away for another evening of social interactions with her nerd club. She had invited Bryan to come along, but he politely declined as he did not feel the need for snobbery at the moment. Her look of disappointment had almost changed his mind when she suddenly brightened as she realized his absence would increase the focus on her.

This current liaison between the pair was inspired by a stealth training session in one of Klaxion’s agricultural domes. Bryan and Aeryn slipped into the space unseen and spent several hours shadowing patrons and workers as they moved about, hidden among the plants and flowers. The game was to see how close you could get to a target without detection.

“I hate to admit it, it’s not the Enforcer way, but I am beginning to enjoy all this sneaking around. How did you get so good?” she admitted as they talked.

“Would you believe sneaking into the girls' dorm in high school?” He replied with a laugh.

“They separate males and females in school? Where were you educated, on an animal farm? That is insane,” she replied in horror.

“Well, not at my school, we had boys and girls together. My buddies and I would slip into a neighboring Catholic girls' school after dark,” he offered.

“There were dangerous guards to keep you out?” Aeryn questioned.

“Worse, they were nuns, and terrifying,” he said with a fake look of terror.

Aeryn paused as she ran her fingers through his chest hair. None of the alien women seemed to lose their fascination with the human trait, despite the time he spent with her and the others. He refused to admit it openly, but that was a big reason he refused to shave it off.

“In all the time that I have known you, to say you were motivated to risk all to recreate with females makes complete sense,” she replied in good humor.

“I would risk life and limb to do so. Now, if we could find you a similar motivation,” he teased.

“I have an idea for a game. Tomorrow I will stalk you in the dome. If I can surprise you, I win. If I can’t find you and you surprise me, then you win,” she proposed.

“And what are we competing for?” he asked.

“For me, it is the acknowledgment before all others that I bested the great Marine commando,” she proclaimed.

“And for me? What do I win?” he pressed.

“For you, it is that thing you were willing to risk life and limb to achieve, Mad Dog,” she said with a giggle as she rolled on top of him and kissed him hard.

Bryan may have long-term concerns about how Wyndom would mess with their future, but for now, he was content to let others carry that burden while focusing on the immediate benefits of his life in space.

Authors Notes

I must first acknowledge the great response to my first book in this series, A Path to Independence, and confirm this book is the result of that overwhelmingly favorable input. I enjoyed writing that book, and as I said, while not original in its roots, it was a fun ride for a new set of characters.

If I am to be honest, I must confess I struggled with parts of this story due to a comment I read in a review. While the reader gave me a wonderfully high rating, they did note a point of dissatisfaction. The constructive criticism, which I greatly appreciate, indicated that the book did not contain as much science fiction in the storyline as my other books do. As an engineer and tech geek, I enjoy experimenting with the what-ifs of science fiction gadgets and environments.

This story was more about the life changes that come from being pulled from what we know as familiar and dropped into an ever-changing world of wonder, some good, and some terrible. Even so, I tried to enhance the sci-fi aspects in this book to stay true to reader expectations. That tainted my creativity somewhat and resulted in a longer completion time. I am anxious to hear back from the readers to see if I hit the mark.