“That’s a ship belonging to the Prime Lord’s personal fleet,” Echut said. “You can tell by the markings and the hull design.”
Lovo glanced over at his second officer. “I can see that, Echut. It just seems a little inconvenient.”
Gordol shrugged. “Well, you’ve done your part. You delivered the merchandise to Nebrassa. It has nothing to do with you now.”
“I promised Arkin I’d take care of them...” Lovo said this more to himself than to the others.
They were all distracted by the sound of air being drawn in through a partially closed nasal passage. They all turned their heads at once to observe Mullgit draw in a huge snore and roll over on the reclined co-pilot’s chair, the bottle of gretla wine nestled in his arms.
“What did he tell you?” Gordol asked.
“That this Lord something approached him and offered him twenty thousand credits to bring him here, as fast as possible. He thought it strange how he managed to pass the Janos net and get off-world, and frankly so do I.”
Lovo looked back out at the steaming transport, the name Fedarn’s Shining Beauty etched in silver along the lower part of her hull. There were men, armed men, descending the ramp in pairs, discussing things with port officials, spreading out over the foggy area. They appeared agitated, impatient. Even at this range Lovo thought he could make out swearing between the Portmaster and one of the Prime Lord’s men. The transport had, after all, swung in under another descending transport to steal away it’s designated landing place. Damned Fedarn Strike Squads. Give them a uniform and they think...
Lovo was grabbed by Echut and turned back to the look further along the landing area. “Look.”
Hurrying along the platform was a group of five figures, one of which was carrying a small child. Lovo squinted but didn’t have to guess at the group’s identity. It was the brothers and that Lord, flanked by the two men who had come with him and two other’s who were obviously House Ash troopers, escorting the group.
He reached over to his gun belt and slipped it on. Gordol and Echut noticed this and looked at each other, then back at their captain. “Just what are you going to do?” Gordol asked.
Lovo started to move towards the exit ramp. “I’ll figure that out when I get down there. Get the ship warmed up. And get that fat blob off my frecking ship.”
Echut turned away from Gordol’s question, “What the sweet mercy is going on?” He looked back over at the approaching entourage of Familee and Ash.
Within the group, Yedda had noticed that the closer they came to the waiting transport, the more nervous Lord Verid became. He was staring wildly around, and as they approached the Keeper of the Secret he suddenly turned to the two Ash troopers. “Thank you for your escort. We shall be safe from here.”
The first trooper’s voice was made tinny by his helmet as he spoke. “We have been instructed to take you directly to the transport, my Lord.”
Verid nodded, and carried on walking, his eyes falling on another transport further down the field. Corii noticed his eyes continually staring at this ship, and he studied it and recognised it for what it was. He nudged Yedda. “No wonder he’s so nervous. Look.”
Yedda looked at the Prime Lord’s transport.
The ramp of he Keeper of the Secret was down, but the interior airlock was sealed. One of the men with Verid hurried up the ramp and pressed the hailing switch. There was no answer.
“We have to go,” Verid was muttering, “we have to go.”
The brothers looked at each other nervously, not liking the change that had suddenly come over Lord Verid. Their sister was whimpering with fear, and Yedda backed away.
“Corii...” he began, but his next words were smeared over by the amplified shout further down the field.
“Halt! You there!”
They all turned to see four Imperial Squad troopers, all armed and suited in their white body armour, running over towards them through the thick mist.
The Ash troopers, shocked, did not raise their weapons but stepped forward, hands raised, to try and keep the situation calm. This was their lethal mistake.
The two men with Verid immediately drew their weapons and shot the two troopers square in the back. The one fell down in a shower of sparks, but the other staggered forward, his stamina keeping him alive for the next few seconds. As he turned to identify his assailant, another hail of fire came screaming in, this time from the Prime Lord’s men who had assumed they were the targets of the initial volley. The second Ash trooper went down with shots striking every part of his body.
“Not the child! Not the child!” the lead Imperial trooper was shouting, waving at his men to lower their weapons. Another mistake. The two men were pushing Verid and the other’s back, their weapons launching green bolts across the landing area. Two of the troopers were thrown back, one’s helmet disintegrated and the other had his throat dissolved. They all dived for cover behind landing struts and other forms of safety.
Corii went to pull his weapon free of it’s holster, wondering what had come over the two apparently insane Familee troopers, but he heard Lord Verid taking the safety catch off his own weapon. He turned to see Verid standing in the cover of the landing ramp, his weapon levelled at them.
“Please. Don’t. It is not my intention to take you back to the Emperor-Priest dead.”
The astonishment that washed over the brothers was almost breath taking, and they both stared at Lord Verid with wide eyes and gaping mouths.
“Verid...” Corii began with a small voice, but then one of the now obviously Janos troopers shouted, “They’re trying to outflank. Where’s that damned Mullgit?”
“I don’t understand,” Yedda was trying to say, but suddenly a shadow passed over him. Verid wailed loudly as he fired his weapon, the shot taking the Prime Lord’s man in the chest. The trooper had crept up around the far side of the transport, and, with another squad member, was trying to take the group by surprise. He was thrown back as if a wire had been tied to him from behind and it had suddenly snapped short, yanking him back, the hit from the blaster shot striking him with so much lethal force the sparks that showered from the wound singed the skins of all of them.
The second attacker managed to get in close with the Janos troopers, but was caught around the back of the neck with a blow from the butt of one of their guns. He fell motionless as his weapon flew from his hand.
The other Strike Squad members held back, discussing their next move.
“Get the door open,” Verid instructed, motioning with his head to the interior airlock of the Keeper of the Secret. One of the men fired a wild shot at the Strike Squad to make sure they didn’t raise their heads up to see him heading up the ramp, and started jabbing at the door controls.
The trooper lying on the floor murmured, and the other man pressed his weapon to his head. “Don’t come over here!” he shouted at the Squad. “I’ll kill him, I swear!”
Verid was trembling violently; his eyes bulging as he carefully watched the brothers. His breath was coming in long ragged bursts, and every now and then he wiped his brow with his forearm.
Yedda just stared at him. “Why?”
The question was simple enough but it made Verid blurt out his words with effort. “Don’t ask me that! I can’t help myself!”
The brothers looked at each other in confusion, trying to gauge the situation. Every time Verid’s eyes were on Yedda, Corii moved his hand just a little more to free his weapon, hoping that Verid’s condition didn’t make him jumpy and, if he saw him trying to draw his pistol, fire.
The Strike Squad leader shouted, “You are kidnapping the kin of the Prime Lord! Give up, and your deaths will be quick and painless!”
“Back off or the Familee bloodline comes to an end and this man dies!” the man with the gun to the back of the half-conscious trooper’s head yelled, looking around him, trying to discern his next move and hoping that his companion could open the transport door.
But open it he couldn’t. He came back down the ramp warily to stand just beside Verid. “It’s no good. I can’t do it.”
Verid wasn’t listening.
When the man didn’t get a reply from him, he turned to tell him again. When he saw Verid’s face, he stepped back in shock.
Verid was staring at the child, his eyes were streaming with tears and he was shaking as if every muscle in his body was being gently electrified. His mouth was slightly open but turned down, an overwhelming sense of sadness emanating from his distraught features.
The child held his gaze with an expressionless face. Her fear had been replaced by something not definable, and as she stared she held out a hand and pointed at him.
“Trust,” she said.
Verid broke. “No!”
The man jumped back and brought up his weapon, but before he could react his back exploded. His surprise was frozen on his face as he was thrown forward.
The second man leaped up, hearing the shot and then the sound of rumbling, as if a heavy object was being rolled along a hollow floor. He turned to define the sound, only to see a fat alien rolling down the ramp of a transport next to the one they were trying to enter. He recognised him as the captain of the Keeper of the Secret.
Standing at the top of the ramp was another figure that was jumping down after the man. He didn’t recognise him, considered him a threat, and raised his weapon.
Lovo was faster. He raised his own pistol and aimed briefly before firing two shots, one which connected with the man’s stomach and then his sternum. He was jolted back and lay still, smouldering around the two great holes in his torso, the smoke mingling with the mist.
Mullgit fell off the bottom of the ramp with a grunt, still bleary-eyed and intoxicated. He scrabbled to his feet to get out of harm’s way.
Yedda began to make for the Recurring Dream on Lovo’s insistence.
Corii started to move, but turned to look at Verid. “I don’t understand,” he said.
“They made me!” Verid wailed, his sobs racking his wasted body. “The Lordmind, used his power, put something in my head. That child is in my head! Estoor, Janos, wanted to use me to get you. To get the child! Why is she in my head? Get her out! Get her out!”
Corii stepped forward, but Verid raised his weapon. “No! Stay away! I cannot go with you! I have failed you, son of Familee. I have failed you! Where was I when Janos murdered your parents! Where was I when the planet was destroyed! I am weak, old...”
“You have to come,” Corii demanded. “You are the only other who knows the truth about the murder of my parents! We want to help you!”
“And risk turning on you again?” Verid shook his head sadly, his tears flooding down his face, his mouth twisted. “I would rather...”
As if suddenly realising something, Verid looked at Corii with a surprised expression. Then he simply jammed his pistol under his own chin.
Corii leaped forward with a scream, but then had to look away as Verid pulled the trigger. There was a loud thumping sound as the weapon discharged, muffled by the Lord’s skin. Then the smell of roasting meat and the sound of a wet substance hitting the floor. It was followed by the soft rustle of a clothed body slipping to the ground.
The Strike Squad was slowly advancing, and Lovo stepped down, but as Corii approached several shots erupted around the base of the ramp. Lovo spun, amazed. “What the...!”
The Squad was firing on him, not realising his role in the situation. Lovo jumped back and waved the brothers up with a shout of, “Get in the damn ship!” and fired back several shots of his own. He fired wide, not wanting the murder of the Prime Lord’s troops on his record. Firing at them was bad enough, but killing them? He regretted his decision as the leader called for him to surrender to a quick death.
Yedda was halfway up the ramp as the troops ceased firing, afraid of striking their goal. Corii soon followed, and as the ramp started to rise, the engines fired into life.
Quickly, the troops dispersed as the engines ignited, alarms wailing all around the landing area as the Recurring Dream started to make an unscheduled lift-off. The landing struts groaned as the weight of the vessel was lifted from them, the great bulbous mass of starship rising slowly in the air. Then the struts folded into the hull, great flaps folding down to cover them over.
The Recurring Dream rose with no grace. She pushed out of the envelope of fog and, as soon as she was safely high enough, she ignited her main engine and threw herself to the sky.
The Squad was left confused and dazed below. They tended to the dead, and then started picking over the remains of the two dead Janos troopers. Captain Mullgit was detained by two other officers and escorted to the Prime Lord’s transport.
The Squad leader went over to the wounded officer, who was leaning up against the landing strut of the Keeper of the Secret, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Are you okay, sergeant?” asked the leader, kneeling down in front of him and removing his helmet. The sergeant nodded.
“Well enough, sir. My apologies.”
“You did your best. Have the medic check your injury.”
As the sergeant was helped to his feet, he reached out a hand to stop the leader from departing. “Sir, there’s one more thing. Before that gentleman there took his own life, he told something to the Familee survivor. About the Prime Lord’s daughter, sir.”
The leader listened with interest as the sergeant told him what he had heard. With a grim visage, he turned to another officer.
“Get in touch with Baron Ash. Tell him I need his Mind to send an urgent message to the Prime Lord.”