The Kavakian Empire

A Space Opera by Dawn Ross

Part One – Starfire Dragons (provisional title)

Chapter 12 – Revised

(Here is another completely new chapter that wasn’t in the original version of part one of this science fiction novella. Remember, the revised version has a lot of similarities to the original, but the story has changed. So don’t be tempted to read the unrevised version.)

“I certainly have a better understanding of what you mean,” the captain said when Jori left with the guards to go and see his brother.

“Regarding?” J.D. asked as he sat down at the table in front of him.

“His apparent level of maturity. His attitude. And how unsettling his manners are.”

He made a half-smile in reply. Maybe Captain Arden had thought he wasn’t doing his job, or maybe he just wanted to see for himself. Either way, now the man had a better understanding of what he had to contend with.

He still hadn’t figured Jori out. And he still hadn’t decided on how he really felt about the boy. His jaw hurt from grinding his teeth so much and he’d probably sighed in frustration more often in these past thirty-six hours than he had in his entire life. But so far it wasn’t as bad as it could have been.

“Now that we’ve spoken to him, what do you think about this new development?” the captain asked regarding the murder claim.

“I still don’t think he’s murdered anyone,” he said without hesitation. “He looked honestly appalled at the thought of being accused of murder.”

“Agreed,” the captain replied. “Though there’s still a chance he could be lying.”

“Honestly, Sir, he’s made no attempt to lie so far. If he doesn’t want me to know something, he simply refused to speak.”

“Yes. I see what you mean.” The captain’s brow drew down. “I think he definitely knows what this is all about. He could have lied and made something up, as children tend to do. But he didn’t.”

He nodded in reply. “I believe he’s hiding something too, but I have no idea what it could be.” He set his chin in his hand and rubbed his jaw. He was getting used to its bareness now.

“It could be prejudice, as he said.”

J.D. put his hand down and straightened up in his chair. “Could be. I’ve read some of the horrific things that Tredons have done. And after hearing some callous remarks from our own people, it wouldn’t be a stretch for others to take their hatred further. And I imagine there’s a lot of people out there seeking revenge and children make easy marks.”

The captain nodded. “Disturbing, but true.” He sighed. “I’ve sent a message to the Depnaugh Space Station. Perhaps we will get more clarification.”

“In the meantime, I’ll keep trying to get Jori to open up.”

The captain nodded.

“May I make a suggestion, Sir?” he asked hesitantly.

“Of course,” the captain replied.

“A show of good faith, perhaps? While we’re waiting to find out more, we could still head towards the Chevert Outpost.” His heart began to pound. “You truly mean to get him back home, don’t you?” He hadn’t wanted to ask such a direct question, but he had to know for his own peace of mind.

The captain folded his hands and leaned forward with a direct stare. J.D. felt a lump in his throat. His heart raced in anticipation. Please don’t let this be another Kimpke Incident.

“I know you and I don’t know one another well yet,” the captain said calmly. “So let me assure you, I say what I mean.”

He resisted the urge to swallow. “Yes, Sir. I didn’t mean to accuse you otherwise.”

“Don’t apologize, Commander. Never apologize for trying to do what’s right.”

“Yes, Sir.”

*****

Commander Hapker left. Robert leaned back in his chair and sighed heavily. He wanted to believe the child. And despite not knowing Hapker well yet, he wanted to have faith in him as well. But he also had a responsibility to the safety of his crew.

He folded his arms and stared at the viewscreen without really looking at it. Murder was a very serious accusation, one that couldn’t be ignored. Captain Fargoza had been right about it taking weeks to file a warrant through the Alliance. What if the warrant was approved and the children were already back home? Then again, what if the child was right and the charge had been fabricated just for the sake of revenge?

He pinched his bottom lip. The only one who could give answers right now was the child—the child with a countenance just as hard and unyielding as any Tredon warrior he’d ever met. But was it the face of a murderer? His gut said no. But the child was definitely keeping something back.

Hapker might be able to get the information. But it didn’t seem likely that he’d be able to gain Jori’s trust any time soon. Could he afford to wait? So much could go wrong.

Robert sighed again. He sat up in his chair and checked his inbox for any new communications. There were none. Even waiting to hear back from the Depnaugh Space Station would take more time than he cared to give.

He ran his hand down his face. He had to do it. He had to use Liam.

Liam was a good man. But many people were uncomfortable with what he could do. They feared that even though he wasn’t supposed to use his skills without permission that he’d do it anyway and none would be the wiser.

Their fear was justifiable. Many like Liam had been convicted of just such a crime. It was an invasion, a violation of one’s rights. But the Prontaean Alliance used people like Liam anyway—for situations just like this where lives could be at risk.

He opened the communication link and tapped Liam’s name. A photo of an older man with an oblong face and pale leathery skin popped up on the screen. The ‘Contact’ button below the image stared at him.

He was within his rights to give Liam permission to use his skill, but he had to be careful. Was he using him just to satisfy his own curiosity, to solve this mystery? Or was there a real threat to security?

He rest his chin in one hand and tapped the table with the other. Liam was an easy solution. Too easy. Depending on such people to help make judgements was an easy trap to fall into. Was he ready?

There were other risks as well. He didn’t expect those risks to be a factor with the Tredon child, though. Still, they deserved consideration.

He tapped the screen. The photo disappeared and he was back to the main communications page. Let’s see what the Depnaugh Space Station has to say first.

 

I’d love to hear some constructive criticism. Please leave a comment below. Praise would be most welcome as well.

(This sci-fi saga is protected by copyright) Copyright March, 2016 by Dawn Ross

You may share this sci-fi novella so long as you link back to this website and mention, The Kavakian Empire by Dawn Ross.

 

The Kavakian Empire

A Space Opera by Dawn Ross

Part One – Starfire Dragons (provisional title)

Chapter 10 – Revised

(You may have noticed I changed the name of this science fiction story. Edge of the Dragon’s Shadow seemed too long. And it sounded more like a fantasy than science fiction title. So how about Starfire Dragons instead? By the way, this is a completely new chapter that wasn’t in the original version of part one. Remember, the revised version has a lot of similarities, but the story has changed. So don’t be tempted to read the unrevised version.)

 

“Captain. We have a small ship with a trajectory on a direct intercept,” Lt. Triss Stever announced on the comm.

“On my way.” Robert blinked. His eyes were dry from reading his officers’ reports, and he rubbed them briskly before leaving his ready room.

On the bridge, Stever was already on her way back to her station at the helm. She had been in charge while he worked. She was a great officer, but didn’t have much experienced on the bridge. Lt. Stein, Commander J.D. Hapker, or Lt. Commander Bracht generally supervised when he was away. But Stein was on her scheduled rest time and both Bracht and Hapker had their hands full with security and the Tredon child.

Although the young boy had not caused much trouble, his own crewmen had. Lt. Junior Grade Mik Calloway’s reported behavior was disturbing. Normally, he wouldn’t allow his crew members to be disciplined so harshly. It reminded him of his previous commander, Frida Findlay, who was too much by the book. The disciplinary action that Hapker had taken, though heavy, was justly warranted. If the child had reacted hostilely to the remark, the already sensitive situation could have been made even more so.

His legs felt a little rubbery as he walked and there was a tingling in his upper back thighs, signs that he’d been sitting for too long. So after nodding to each of his crew members, he stood rather than sat.

“Commander,” he said into the comm, “Are you available for the bridge?”

“Yes, Sir,” Hapker replied, his voice made slightly deeper because of the comm. There was a way to make the comms more precise, but he’d found it unsettling to have it sound like the man was right here when he wasn’t.

“Should I open a channel to the ship, Captain?” Lt. Brenson asked.

“Let’s wait for them to contact us.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He reviewed the information on the viewscreen while he waited for Hapker to arrive. Their current distance provided very little about the ship, other than that it was small and a still few minutes away.

Hapker arrived quickly, probably grateful for an excuse to get away. Based on what he’d read in the man’s report, the child still hadn’t opened up and was uncomfortable to be around.

“Captain,” Hapker said as he stood next to him.

“We have a ship that looks like it wants to meet us,” he said, making a slight nod towards the viewscreen. “No other information yet.”

The Commander stood straight and tall as he looked over the screen. But the slight shift of his feet and the way his eyes darted at the information indicated he was probably excited. Ah, to be young again. His own pulse was slightly elevated, but mostly out of curiosity than excitement. At fifty-two, he’d seen and done quite a bit and it took a lot to get his blood running.

“Sir, it’s a Bantam.”

Not one of ours, then. Bantams were small independently owned cargo vessels. They were a popular choice for those who worked along dangerous borders. And for pirates.

“Shields up.” It was unlikely this was a pirate ship. It wouldn’t be seeking them out if it were. Most likely, it just needed repairs or some such, but better to be safe than sorry.

“No communications yet?” Hapker asked.

The question was unnecessary. If there had been an attempt at communication, Brenson would have said. But Hapker was new and didn’t know the crew all that well yet.

“Not yet, Sir,” Breson replied unperturbed.

More information about the Bantam popped up in a section of the viewscreen. It was registered as the C.T.V. Spike and operated by Captain James Fargoza. There were no current warrants for the man, although he had been cited in the past for minor cargo infractions. And he was also a licensed bounty hunter. Interesting, but not surprising in this part of the territory.

“They’re hailing us now, Sir.”

Robert gave Brenson a slight nod. A man’s face popped up in the middle of the viewscreen. “Captain Robert Arden of the Pronaean Alliance here. How may we assist?”

“Captain James Fargoza of the Bantam Spike,” he said, confirming the registered information. The man was probably about Hapker’s age and dark-haired like himself. But any similarities ended there. The man’s hair was wild, as was his beard. His nose was wide and flat and scar ran across his chin. “We’ve been sent for a wanted group of Tredons and were told you have ‘em.”

“Told by who?” The only way they could know was if the Grapnes had told them or if they had intercepted the secure report he had filed with his superiors. He couldn’t imagine the Grapnes telling them. But then again, it was exceedingly difficult to intercept an Alliance report, let alone decrypt one.

“Word gets around, Sir,” Fargoza replied.

Robert frowned at the man’s vagueness. Dealing with these types was almost always like a game of tug-of-war. “And what do you want with these Tredons?”

“There’s a bounty on ‘em, on the two Tredon boys, to be exact.”

Robert raised an eyebrow. He glanced at Hapker, who also had an eyebrow raised. “A bounty? From who? And for what?”

“Authorities at the Depnaugh Station, for murder.”

His chest tightened. “Send me the report, Captain Fargoza.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Stand by.”

Communication was cut off and the viewscreen went back to the full information display. The document from Captain Fargoza came quickly and Brenson had it put up within moments.

“It appears authentic,” Brenson said. “I’m verifying the code now.”

The notice had the Depnaugh seal located in the top right corner. The words, ‘Wanted for Murder’ were bolded across the top. The Serpent’s id number was given and he knew without looking that it was the same.

His skin went cold. So the Grapnes were telling the truth about this part?

Perhaps. But not entirely. He read the smaller words on the document. The warrant was for the Tredons traveling on board the Serpent, but it didn’t give the names of any of them. The closest it came to identifying any individuals was its mention of two young Tredon boys. Whether they were the ones who actually committed the murder or not was not specified.

“The time stamp is only a half-a-day old,” Hapker said.

He was right. This warrant was issued a full day after the Grapnes’ claim. Perhaps after their failed attempt, they’d contacted the Debnaugh Space Station to have a formal warrant issued. Once done, the information was public and bounty hunters like Captain Fargoza could take action.

“What do you think?” he asked Hapker.

“We can’t, Sir,” the commander said. “We can’t turn them over to these people. This report is too vague.” He spoke quickly and the way his brows folded together made him look worried.

Hapker’s reaction surprised him. Most people on board the Odyssey hated the Tredons. And Hapker himself had admitted the child made him feel uncomfortable. Yet, if he wasn’t mistaken, his commander was defending him.

“I agree on both points,” he replied. “I mean, what do you think about the accusation? Do you think this child murdered someone?”

Hapker signed and rubbed his jaw. “We know he’s capable of killing, Sir. But I don’t know. I mean, other than showing how capable he is … I just don’t know, Sir. I don’t feel like he’d blatantly murder someone. Maybe there was just cause. Or maybe his crew put him up to it.”

He nodded. It made sense.

The commander let out his breath. The look of worry was still on his face.

“Hail Captain Fargoza,” he said to Brenson.

The man’s face popped up on the screen again. “Captain,” Fargoza said, “we’re ready to take ‘em off your hands.”

“Not just yet, Captain,” he replied. “The document doesn’t have enough information. And since they are already in our custody, you will have to file a claim with the Prontaean Alliance.”

“Begging your pardon, Sir,” Fargoza said with a hint of impatience, “but that could take weeks.”

“I’m afraid it’s the law.”

“I understand that, Sir. But you understand we’re just trying to make a living. We’ve come all the way out here. Fuel is expensive and I have to pay my crew.”

“I’m sorry, Captain. The Depnaugh authorities will need to provide evidence before we will acknowledge the warrant. Even then, I’m not inclined to hand over children.”

“They’re Tredon’s, Sir. I’m sure Depnaugh thought that was explanation enough.”

“What do you know of the circumstances?” Hapker asked.

Fargoza didn’t answer right away and his eyes narrowed slightly. “Nothing,” he said. “But they’re Tredons. Surely you know what they’re like.”

He’s hiding something. Why am I not surprised? “Even with Tredons, we’re not turning anyone over without more details on their crimes,” he said, managing to keep his tone light.

Fargoza’s lips curled and his brow furrowed. The expression disappeared quickly, though, as if he were trying to control a temper. His mouth spread into a smile instead. “If I may make one more argument, Captain Arden.”

He nodded, though there probably wasn’t anything the man could say that would convince him.

“We all know how brutal Tredons can be. I’m sure you have better things to do than babysit these two murderous little creatures. Yes?”

Rather than reply, he stared at the man with mock patience. Yes, Tredons were brutal. But he didn’t like how he’d referred to the children.

“Your directive prevents you from doing what should be done to them,” Fargoza continued. “Just let me take care of them for you and no one else has to know the rest.”

His stomach turned. He had no doubt what was in store for the children if he turned them over. A harsh rebuke came to mind, but he pressed lips together to keep from saying it. “Sorry, Captain,” he managed to say politely. “Not without the proper documents.”

Captain Fargoza’s lips contorted into a snarl. “It’s your funeral,” he said, and ended the communication.

The back of his neck prickled. Hapker let out his breath noisily and his shoulder’s relaxed noticeably. Interestingly, the danger Fargoza implied didn’t seem to concern him. He really doesn’t believe he’s a murderer, does he? Should I be concerned? Hapker had little experience with Tredons and it was normal for people to trust—especially in children. He only hoped the trust wasn’t blind.

“Let’s see if we can find out what’s going on,” he said to Hapker. “Bring the young man to my ready room.”

“Sir,” Hapker replied. He hesitated. The look of worry returned. “I don’t think Jori will respond well to pressure.”

“Understood, Commander. It’s about time I met the boy, though.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Hapker looked like he wanted to say more, but didn’t. The commander often seemed unsure of himself. It was concerning—not something he’d expect from a man who’d stood up to an admiral.

He put the thoughts aside for now. Something was going on with these Tredon boys and he was going to get to the bottom of it.

 

I’d love to hear some constructive criticism. Please leave a comment below. Praise would be most welcome as well.

(This sci-fi saga is protected by copyright) Copyright March, 2016 by Dawn Ross

You may share this sci-fi novella so long as you link back to this website and mention, The Kavakian Empire by Dawn Ross.

The Kavakian Empire

A Space Opera by Dawn Ross

Part One – Starfire Dragons (provisional title)

Chapter 9 – Revised

(So far, the revised version of part one of this science fiction story is much the same. But there are a few important differences, so please don’t be tempted to read the unrevised novella version. Just keep stopping by here every Saturday for the Kavakian Empire Part One.)

The door slid open and J.D. stepped into the empty tran-car. “Docking bay.” When the door closed, he stretched his mouth into a wide yawn. A tingling sensation spread over him. He held his breath at the height of the yawn, trying to hold on to the revitalizing feeling, but the heaviness of fatigue rolled quickly back in.

Having two security officers keep guard inside his quarters overnight hadn’t alleviated the anxiety of having the Tredon boy there. It wasn’t that he was afraid. Uneasy, maybe. Wary. Perhaps even a little bit concerned. But mostly confused.

He massaged his eyes and brows to alleviate his fatigue and stimulate his brain cells. Jori was an enigma. One moment the boy was making snide remarks. The next, he was nearly in tears over his brother. And when his eyes dried up, his face went back to the same blank expression as though nothing had happened.

A chill went down his spine. Was he truly upset? Or was it just an act to put me off guard? He’d tried to learn more. He asked Jori more questions, simple questions such as what his brother’s name was. But the boy didn’t speak another word for the rest of their time together. It was like he was operating on autopilot—or maybe contemplating some devious plot.

He gave himself a slight shake to ward off the unease. It wasn’t something he needed to worry about right now. The guards had escorted Jori to visit his brother again. He was getting a break while he attended his duties.

The tran-car opened at the front end of the docking bay. He pulled his shoulders back and made his way to the back transport area where the crashed Tredon ship had been brought.

“Has anyone found anything?” he asked the leading officer on duty.

The man straightened and stood respectfully. “We’ve finally gotten some recordings from the cockpit, Commander,” he said. “They don’t tell us much, but there is something odd.”

“Odd? Odd how?”

“Well, Sir. The older boy was the pilot. He was the one who executed the skimming maneuver.” J.D. raised his eyebrows. “And he was also in charge.”

He jerked his head back. “In charge? Are you sure?”

“It seems that way, Sir. Here. See for yourself.”

The officer led him to a viewscreen and played a fuzzy recording with disjointed sound.

It was difficult to see the faces through the static and missing pixels, but the boys’ statures were easy enough to distinguish.

His stomach fluttered. Sure enough, the eldest boy was operating the flight controls. And although the sound was muddled, he thought he heard one of the men call him sir.

“Can you enhance the audio?”

“This is the best I could do, Sir. I tried everything.”

“So there’s no indication of what the Grapnes were after?”

“I did manage to pull the incoming communications recordings, Sir. The sound is just as bad, but Lt. Rorna can read lips. The Grapne simply demanded surrender. That’s all.”

So Jori was telling the truth about that.

“I also found an outgoing communication, Sir,” the officer said.

He tapped on the screen and the message played out loud. ‘We have acquired some supplies as well as the information you wanted about the scientists, Father. We are returning home now and should arrive in half a period.’

He rubbed his chin. There was no visual, but the voice sounded like it could be the older boy. The tone was formal, as though he was talking to a superior officer, but he called the man father. Perhaps his father was a captain or a major belonging to one of the Tredon warlords. It would explain why a boy was in charge. “That’s rather vague,” he said. “Any other outgoing messages?”

“Just a basic request to dock at the Depnaugh Station, Sir. I’m sorry.”

“Any other records that explain anything about these scientists?”

“No, Sir.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant. I will take this to the captain. Is there anything else of importance?”

“Nothing that seemed significant,” the officer replied. “But you might find the crash video of the cockpit interesting. It shows why only the boys survived.”

“How’s that?”

The officer played another video. Although this recording was worse, he could see enough. Goosebumps prickled his skin. The men yanked both boys away from the cockpit window. Then they pulled them down and shielded them with their bodies.

His own instinct would be to protect children, but these were Tredons—by all accounts, loudmouthed, aggressive, bloodthirsty warriors. This selfless act that put their own lives at risk was surprising, to say the least.

*****

J.D.’s stomach roiled. He had hardly any useful information to pass on. Some commander he was. He might as well be a petty officer for all the value he’d contributed to this ship so far.

He sucked in his breath and stood up straight as he entered the captain’s ready room. Captain Robert Arden gave him a slight nod and tilted his head towards an empty chair at the table where Lt. Jenna Stein and Lt. Commander Bracht were already waiting.

“Report,” the captain said. His voice sounded terse and his eyes were hard.

He resisted the urge to swallow. The captain was always this austere. It didn’t mean anything. At least he hoped it didn’t. It was just the captain’s way. “I’ve just sent you a detailed report of yesterday’s events. But here’s the highlights.”

He briefly related his conversations with Jori. And just to show he was trying to be thorough in his job, he also gave an overview of the information from the crashed ship, a report the captain had no doubt already received.

“So the boy didn’t know what the Grapnes wanted either?”

“I wouldn’t say he didn’t know, Sir. He said the Grapnes didn’t tell them what they wanted, and this seems to be true. But he’s not very forthcoming in information. There’s still a possibility that he knows but doesn’t want to say.” He held his breath, expecting the captain to chastise him for not making the boy give him more information.

The captain tapped his bottom lip with his index finger. “The message about the scientists sounds concerning. Perhaps it has something to do with what the Grapnes were after. Ask him more about this. Be persistent but gentle.”

He nodded and softly let out his breath.

“If the still refuses to say anything, I will consider getting Liam involved,” the captain added.

Liam. He felt a twang in his gut at the thought of what the man could do. But his methods weren’t harmful. And they were sound. “I will try, Captain,” he replied. “But I’m not sure if I can get Jori to reveal anything.”

“Is he giving you trouble?”

“No, actually. It hasn’t been too bad.” Frustrating, yes. But not bad. “He just isn’t very talkative.”

“That’s understandable, considering his situation,” the captain replied. “I’m sure it will take a little time for him to warm up to you.”

“Thank you, Sir,” he said. “But it’s not that he’s shy. He’s not a timid child at all. He’s guarded, yes, but he also seems to be very self-possessed. And he’s highly intelligent. He seemed to know a lot about our engine room functions. And he even beat me at Schemster.”

“He beat you?” The captain’s brow furrowed. Jenna’s eyebrows went up. Bracht’s frown deepened. No one else on the ship had been able to outplay him.

“Yes, Sir. I admit, however, that I wasn’t taking the game seriously. I won the second time, but just barely.”

“Impressive.” The captain steepled his fingers under his chin.

“Yes, Sir. He seems rather mature for his age as well. It’s a mistake to think of him as an ordinary child. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was the son of some high ranking warlord or something.”

“I knew he was dangerous,” Bracht said.

“I agree with your assessment,” Lt. Jenna Stein said to him. “If he be of high rank, his intelligence may be because of enhanced genes.”

“How’s that?” the captain asked. “I thought the Tredons had also stopped the genetic enhancements after the Gene wars.”

“Careful breeding,” Jenna replied. “These past hundred years or so, the Tredon warlords only be procreating with women who carry enhanced genes, which be why there was nothing in his medical assessment to indicate genetic modification.”

“Leave it to the Tredons to find a way to cheat,” Bracht added.

“Select breeding is not against the law, however,” Captain Arden said. “But it’s something we should take into account regarding security. We don’t know what genetic abilities he’s inherited.”

“Yes, Sir,” Bracht replied. “I suggest we strictly limit his access to only the common areas of the ship. No more visits to the engine room.”

“I agree.” Turning to J.D., the captain added, “There is something else I need you to try and talk to him about. Dr. Jerom found a lot of bone reconstructions in both of the boys.”

“I have many myself,” Bracht said. “It’s probably just a result of training.”

“No. There are so many, it is beyond concerning. I would say it’s alarming, in fact—especially when you consider how young they are.”

His skin crawled and his stomach knotted.

“You think they be abused?” Jenna asked, echoing what he was thinking.

“Even if they were, what can we do about it?” he added.

“Yes, Lt.,” the captain said to Jenna. “I think they’ve been abused. Dr. Jerom was hard pressed to find bones that hadn’t ever been broken. Those that were, were broken at different times, which rules out the possibility that they were involved in a single cataclysmic event.”

Nausea rolled around in his gut.

Jenna frowned deeply. “I suppose it not be surprising.”

“I know there is not much we can do about it,” Captain Arden said, “but I feel we should ask and do what we can for them while they are here.”

“I’ll talk to him,” he said.

“And see if you can find out who we can contact in order to get them home.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Thank you,” Captain Arden said to the group. “That’s all I have for now.”

*****

J.D.’s fatigue was gone. He felt good as he jaunted towards sick bay to meet Jori.

However severe Captain Arden’s looks seemed to be, the man was nothing like Rear Admiral Zimmer. This meeting would have gone much differently if Zimmer had been in charge. He would have been scolded and the man probably would have ordered him to use more force with the Tredon boy.

Although Jori was considered his enemy, and even though the boy frustrated him, there was no way he’d hurt him—no matter what his orders were. It would be the Kimpke incident all over again. And his career would be over for sure this time.

“Where’s Jori?” he asked one of the security officers guarding the other boy.

“I believe he went to the gymnasium, Sir.”

Maybe I can get Jori to play a game of wall ball or something. It could be a way to get him to open up a little.

He went to his quarters and changed his clothes. Then as he headed towards the gym he hummed a happy tune from his homeland. He really needed to stop worrying about his status here. After all, Captain Arden had requested him as his second in command despite the Kimpke incident. This had to be a good thing.

The gymnasium was a big place. Weight machines were in one area, cardio machines in another. There were various courts sectioned off along the edges of the gym. Some could be used for a variety of sport games while others were for more specific activities such as gymnastics or martial arts.

He expected to find Jori in the martial area. Lt. Rik Gresher was teaching a class there, but Jori wasn’t around. After walking around the gym’s track, he finally found the boy working out in one of the holo-stations.

A dozen officers surrounded the area, watching and whispering. When he peaked between them, he could see why. The holo-station made a realistic cracking sound as Jori’s staff smacked the side of a holo-man that was made to be about Joir’s height. Another short holo-man appeared behind him, but he reacted quickly, swinging his staff around and taking the holo-man’s feet out from under him. The boy jabbed the end of his staff into the holo-man’s chest. It disappeared and another holo-man appeared.

Jori moved faster than he could believe, and with astounding precision. He felt his blood run cold as holo-man after holo-man fell to its virtual death. Even without a phaser or the strength of a man, the boy had the potential to be deadly. It made his own martial skill look pathetic in comparison. Probably best not to let him know this.

The last holo-man disappeared. The boy froze in an offensive stance, as though waiting for more. His face was red. Sweat dripped from his brow and his chin. And he breathed heavily.

“You think you’re something, doing you?” someone said.

What the heck? He glanced at the four security officers.

The newly promoted Mik Calloway stood with his arms folded and his lips curled in a sneer. “But you’re nothing but a slant-eyed space-thug.”

Jori straightened. His face turned a darker red and he bared his teeth. J.D. imagined his own face was just as red. He clenched his jaw as a swelling heat surged throughout his body.

“Lt. Calloway!” He quickly pushed through the group of onlookers and planted himself directly between the officer and the boy. His nose was inches away from Calloway’s. “What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Calloway went white. “Nothing, S—“

“Nothing? Nothing! Your job is to guard, not shoot your mouth off.” His blood was boiling.

“But he’s a murderous—”

“He’s a guest on this ship! Were you not told to be civil?”

Rather than appear chastised, the man scowled darkly. At least he wasn’t stupid enough to try and make another excuse. There was none.

“Don’t let me hear another harsh word come out of your mouth again.” He glared at the man until he looked away. He didn’t look down, as someone ashamed might do.

I knew I shouldn’t have allowed this man to be promoted. “Rest assured, this behavior will not go unmarked. I will speak to you about this later.” After he cooled down. And in private. Reprimanding an officer in public was not something he did. It was something Zimmer would do, but not him.

He stood there for a few moments longer before finally turning to Jori. He half-expected to see the same angry look on the boy as before. But it was gone. Jori stood in an at-ease stance with an emotionless cold look on his face.

 

I’d love to hear some constructive criticism. Please leave a comment below. Praise would be most welcome as well.

(This sci-fi saga is protected by copyright) Copyright February, 2016 by Dawn Ross

You may share this sci-fi novella so long as you link back to this website and mention, The Kavakian Empire by Dawn Ross.

 

The Kavakian Empire

A Space Opera by Dawn Ross

Part One – Starfire Dragons (provisional title)

Chapter 8 – Revised

 

(Check under Categories for “The Kavakian Empire” then, “Sci-Fi Part 1 – Revised” link in the right hand column in order to read the previous chapters of this science fiction novella. This story has changed so make sure you go to the revised one.)

“I will see my brother now,” Jori said as he pushed his chair out.

J.D. opened his mouth to reply, but the boy was up and already turning his back to leave. He closed his mouth and suppressed a groan.

“Sorry,” he said to Shra as he tilted his head towards the Schemster game still on the table. “I’ve gotta go.”

He managed to catch up to Jori and the security officers without running. Jori didn’t even acknowledge him. His nerves prickled. He clamped his mouth closed. Chastising the boy for his rudeness would only make matters worse. Just try to remember what he’s going through.

He took a couple of deep breaths and focused on the calming rhythm of the footsteps echoing down the hall. Jori didn’t say a single word along the way. It was probably for the best since none of their conversations had gone well. Still, it irritated him that the boy was pointedly ignoring him.

He ignored the trailing security officers as well. The behavior struck him as arrogant. But then again, maybe the boy was pretending they weren’t there because he didn’t want to think about the fact that he was surrounded by enemies. That’s right. Try to think optimistically. Remember, he’s been through a lot. Not that he’d act the same way if their situations were reversed. But Jori was a child and children were not always easy.

When they reached Jori’s brother in sick bay, he stood off in the corner to give the boy some space. Oddly, the boy didn’t even look at his brother. His face was void of any emotion as he examined the medical diagnostics monitor by his brother’s bed. Dr. Jerom came in and briefly explained the medical situation.

“I’m sorry. We still don’t know if he’ll survive.”

Despite the grim news, Jori still didn’t display any emotion. He looked over the medical monitor and asked the doctor a number of very specific medical questions. At first, Dr. Jerom answered in layman’s terms. But Jori’s questions were so technical that the doctor found he had to answer the same in return.

“Thank you, Doctor. That will be all,” Jori said.

Dr. Jerom looked like he wanted to say more, but Jori turned away. The doctor scowled, probably at the apparent dismissal. J.D. made a slight apologetic shrug. Maybe the boy didn’t know he was being rude. Maybe no one had ever taught him any better. That seemed plausible, considering where he came from.

Dr. Jerom left with a shake of his head. Jori gave J.D. a look, as though expecting him to go as well. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall instead, partly out of spite for the boy’s rudeness. But mostly because Jori’s demeanor worried him. His brother could possibly die and the boy didn’t have the decency to show a single shred of emotion.

Jori turned back to his brother and stood quietly by his bed. The blank look on his face didn’t change. Neither did his posture. He just stood there, like a statue.

J.D.’s legs began to ache. He suppressed a yawn. If the boy thought he could bore him into leaving, he was wrong. He’d stand here all night if he had to.

His thoughts began to drift. He shook his head and regained his focus. Something had changed. The boy held his brother’s hand. His brow was furrowed and he looked genuinely concerned. J.D.’s skin tingled with goosebumps when the boy gently rest his other hand on his brother’s forehead.

He slowly stood up straight, careful not to disturb the boy. Jori’s eyes looked wet. Are those tears? A flush of warmth washed over him. Is this an act or is he really about to cry?

When the boy’s chin began to quiver, he knew what he was seeing was real. He uncrossed his arms and went to stand by the boy’s side.

“He’ll be alright,” he said, and put a comforting hand on Jori’s shoulder. The boy flinched ever-so-slightly, but otherwise didn’t acknowledge the gesture.

*****

Jori’s eyes burned. A surge of sorrow threatened to overwhelm him. He clenched his jaw and took quiet deep breaths in hopes of keeping the tears at bay.

He didn’t mean to let these people see this weakness in him, but being here with his brother, touching him, feeling the emptiness within him, stressed the stark reality of the situation. Dammit, Terk. You have to get through this.

Flashes of what his life would be like if Terk died churned chaotically in his head—having to face his father alone, his father’s anger, his mother’s despair, Master Jetser’s disappointment.

“He’ll be alright,” the commander said as he touched his shoulder. Whatever frustration he had sensed from the man earlier was gone, replaced by an inner warmth. He tensed at the unexpected gesture and genuine emotion, and his cheeks burned. Yeah. But how far will his compassion go if he finds out our secret?

He’d told the truth when he said the Grapnes never gave a reason as to why they were to surrender. But he had his suspicions. They probably knew the secret. Bok, the loud-mouthed braggart, had gotten drunk at one of the space station bars and said too much.

Terk was beyond pissed. Master Veda was even more so. And they’d been forced to leave before they had gotten everything they needed. Their father would be pissed, but at least the blame could’ve been put on Bok.

This wasn’t going to happen now, though. The pang of sadness swelled again. Not so much for Bok, but certainly for the others—especially Master Veda, and now possibly Terk.

A guard coughed, reminding him that the danger wasn’t over yet. What mother would think, what father would think, none of it would matter at all if he never made it back home. He may be free to walk about this ship—with guards in tow—but he was still a prisoner. J.D. promised to get him home, and he sensed the man was telling the truth, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t change his mind—especially if he found out the truth.

He hated all the questions the commander had asked. The more he asked, they closer he came to his secret. He considered not answering at all, but he decided to give him something. Even though J.D. had said he wouldn’t be interrogated, things could change.

What if they access the ship records? What if the Grapnes tell them what they know? A rising fear swelled him his chest. Whatever the commander promised, he wasn’t the one in charge.

Damn you, Terk, for leaving me here alone with these people. His burning in his eyes swelled and he felt liquid running down his nose. With a subtle sniff, he sucked it back up. Dammit! He bit the inside of his cheek and a metallic taste filled his mouth. Control. I need to control this. Emotion is weakness.

He clenched his teeth in determination. A rising heat surged within. Damn Bok! Damn those Grapnes! And damn to you too, Father! Thanks to Bok and the Grapnes, he and his brother had lost their entire crew, their cargo, and their ship. To say his father would be greatly displeased would be a vast understatement. It wasn’t his fault, or even Terk’s. But since he was the only one left, he’d be the one to answer for it.

The information he and Terk had gathered might help to appease his father. Well, maybe. He needed more, a lot more. Killing some Alliance officers could help.

It was all up to him now. He instinctively evaluated his surroundings. The commander wasn’t armed, making him easier to overcome. The guard closest to him wasn’t paying as much attention as he should have so he could easily take his weapon and use it on the others. He’d shoot the tallest of the guards first. This man was the most vigilant. He’d shoot J.D. next since he was the commander and would likely be the quickest to react to the situation. Then he’d take out the guard with the hair so fair that his eyebrows looked invisible against his light skin. Calloway was the name he’d heard one of the guards say. Whatever his name was, even though the man’s posture was more arrogant than guarded, he could sense an extreme hatred from the man and such hatred was too unpredictable to disregard.

His stomach churned, making him nauseous. He should hate these people. His anger was real enough, but not enough to make him act. He’d killed before. He killed those Grapnes. And the people of the Alliance were his enemies, after all. It’s what he’d been trained for. He was a soldier—a warrior.

I can take them. But then what? He couldn’t carry his brother. And he certainly wouldn’t leave him behind. No. He had to think of something bigger and better to appease his father. Perhaps he could find a way to steal information or technology or sabotage the ship.

He wouldn’t do anything just yet. Wait for an opportunity. Wait for Terk. Wake up, big brother. I need you.

 

I’d love to hear some constructive criticism. Please leave a comment below. Praise would be most welcome as well.

(This sci-fi saga is protected by copyright) Copyright March, 2016 by Dawn Ross

You may share this sci-fi novella so long as you link back to this website and mention, The Kavakian Empire by Dawn Ross.

The Kavakian Empire

A Space Opera by Dawn Ross

Part One – Starfire Dragons (provisional title)

Chapter 7 – Revised

(Check under Categories for “The Kavakian Empire” then, “Sci-Fi Part 1 – Revised” link in the right hand column in order to read the previous chapters of this science fiction novella. This story has changed so make sure you go to the revised one.)

Lieutenant Junior Grade Mik Calloway’s legs were cramping. The urge to shift his balance intensified, but he couldn’t do it with Lieutenant Commander Bracht watching. The man scowled darkly and his nostrils flared as he stood before him and several other security officers. The big blond Rabnoshk warrior said nothing as he eyed each of them in turn. When the man’s eyes fell on him, he resisted the urge to swallow down the lump welling in his throat.

The Lt. Commander was upset, this much he was certain. He only hoped the man wasn’t upset at him. It was only a slight modification. Not really a lie. But the warrior was strict about such things. I had to do it, though. Jack was such a goodie-goodie. He always got all the recognition. Ass-kisser. I only did it to get what I was due.

Lt. Gresher entered the security officer’s hall. As usual, he was wearing that stupid smile of his. It wouldn’t have been so bad if the man’s mouth wasn’t so wide. He looked ridiculous. But everyone seemed to like him, so no one made fun.

Gresher nodded to the Lt. Commander and took his place in the line. The Rabnoshk warrior responded with a penetrating look, but didn’t chide the man like he should have.

“In case you haven’t already heard, we have two Tredons on board,” the Lt. Commander said. “Regardless of how many of you feel about Tredons, I expect you to do your duty with the fullest integrity of an Alliance officer.”

He paused a moment, probably to emphasize how important he felt duty was. The man was all about duty. He wouldn’t be surprised if the word was tattooed on his ass. Well, at least he hadn’t gotten caught and his recently promoted rank was still intact.

“What you may not be aware of is how this situation is being handled and the increased danger it presents,” Lt. Commander Bracht continued.

The man paused again as he gave each of the officers another sour look. Mik subtly shifted his feet and gritted his teeth in impatience. He had seen the security alert earlier but was not one of the ones called to duty. He’d been itching to find out what was going on, but the most anyone would tell him was that two Tredon children had been rescued from a crash.

He was a lieutenant junior grade now. He had a right to know more. What good was his new rank if he was still going to be treated like a grunt? Well, at least now they realize they need me. Took ‘em long enough.

The Lt. Commander took a deep breath. His face darkened. “The two boys will be treated as guests.”

Mik nearly choked. “What the fuck?” he said. Fortunately, the Lt. Commander didn’t seem to have heard him above the gasps and curses of the other officers.

“Silence!” the big man bellowed.

Mik and the others stiffened in attention. His blood ran hot. Tredons had killed two of his friends back on a space station a few years ago where he had been awaiting his new assignment on the Odyssey. And now their devilish little spawn were being treated as guests.

“The older child is in sick bay, still unconscious. But the other is with Commander Hapker. Reports tell me this younger one is very intelligent and highly trained,” the Rabnoshk warrior said. “So I want you to keep a very close eye on him. And do not underestimate either of them.”

“Why aren’t they in a cell?” Mik demanded.

“That is not your concern, Lt. Calloway,” the man replied with an angry glare. Mik should have known better not to question him, but he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Your concern is to the safety of this crew. At the same time, I expect you to be on your best behavior. Despite what these children are, you will not provoke them. You will guard them, and you will guard their safety as well.”

“Their safety?” another officer said.

“They’re barbarians,” Mik added. “Why should be care about their safety?”

Other officers began to protest too. He heard words like butchers, brutes, animals, and monsters and agreed with them all.

“We have our orders,” the Rabnoshk warrior interrupted. “The children are not wanted for any crimes and so they are not going to be locked up unless they give us reason.”

“Are we going to wait until they kill someone first?” Mik asked.

“Watch your tone, Lieutenant,” the man growled. His dark eyes bored into his own.

He gritted his teeth in seething fury, but turned away from the Rabnoshk warrior’s look.

“You have your orders,” Lt. Commander Bracht said with his attention back on all the officers. “You will keep them away from secure areas while at the same time allowing them to visit the public areas of the ship. And however you feel about them, you will behave in a professional manner at all times. I do not want to hear of any name calling and I will not tolerate anyone using force, unless it is clearly necessary. Is that understood?”

Most of the officers mumbled a yes, sir, but Mik said nothing. When he chose security as his profession, he hoped he’d be fighting Tredons not helping them. The mangled bodies of his friends seared his mind. That these children were probably just toddlers at the time didn’t matter. They were Tredons and all Tredons were the same.

“Is that understood?” the Lt. Commander said again more forcefully.

“Yes, sir!” they replied. He mouthed the words, but defiantly made no sound.

When the Rabnoshk warrior dismissed them, he stormed out.

 

I’d love to hear some constructive criticism. Please leave a comment below. Praise would be most welcome as well.

(This sci-fi saga is protected by copyright) Copyright February, 2016 by Dawn Ross

You may share this sci-fi novella so long as you link back to this website and mention, The Kavakian Empire by Dawn Ross.

 

The Kavakian Empire

A Space Opera by Dawn Ross

Part One – Edge of the Dragon’s Shadow (provisional title)

Chapter 6 – Revised

(All previous chapters of this science fiction novella can be found under the The Kavakian Empire → Sci-Fi Part 1 – Reviesd link under Categories in the right hand column. Don’t be tempted to read the unrevised version. The story has changed.)

“Murder?” Captain Robert Arden said. “Before you were just claiming theft and now you are telling me these Tredons murdered one of your people?”

“Yes, Captain,” Captain Seth of the Grapnes replied. “The Tredons are murderous cutthroats and our people simply want their justice.”

“Who did they murder?” He allowed an inflection of skepticism in his voice. He was usually polite when he addressed others, but Captain Seth crossed the line. Shooting down another ship was intolerable, especially since the man seemed to have no valid reason for doing so.

“A very important dignitary.”

Robert pursed his lips. If the Grapne was telling the truth, he was stretching it. “Yes, but who? And how?”

“I cannot provide you with the details,” the Grapne said. He grinned as he spoke and seemed to have a difficult time keeping eye contact. Most of the Grapnes he had met before tended to fib, and fortunately weren’t very good at it.

“Can’t or won’t.”

“Can’t, Captain Arden. Because I don’t know. I am just going by the information given to me by my superiors. You understand.”

Robert sighed in frustration. “You stated earlier that you yourself are the victim of this theft at the Depnaugh Space Station. How is it that the Tredons murdered one of your dignitaries during this theft, but you can’t tell me who? You were there, after all.”

“A misunderstanding, Captain, I assure you. It wasn’t me they stole from. It was from another one of our ships.”

Robert gritted his teeth. “Even if what you say is true, I’m afraid justice is out of reach. Nearly everyone on the Tredon ship was killed in the crash.”

“You said there were survivors,” the Grapnes said. “They must answer for their crimes.”

“The survivors are children and I will not be handing children over to you.”

“But it was the children who committed the murder.”

He folded his hands and grasped them so tightly that his knuckles turned white. “Forgive me, Captain Seth,” he replied, “but it seems your story keeps changing in order to fit the situation.”

“I’m not hiding anything, I assure you,” the Grapnes replied with that same ridiculous smile. Robert had read somewhere that Grapnes tended to smile a lot because they thought it would make people believe their lies more easily. “We simply want the justice that you are required by law to provide.”

“I’ll tell you what, Captain Seth. You provide me with concrete evidence that these children personally committed murder, theft, or any other crime, and I will consider turning them over to you.”

“Our evidence must be supported by their testimony,” the Grapnes insisted. “We must take them into custody in order to build our case. You understand.”

The man is smooth. I’ll give him that. “I will not be handing children over to you for interrogation without evidence, and that is final.”

“What about my four men they killed on Pensla?”

“That was obviously self-defense. It is not enough to convince me that I should hand them over.”

“My superiors will not be happy, Captain Arden.” The Grapnes’ grin finally faded. “Your council will hear of this.”

“I’ll take my chances. In the meantime, you will report to the Melna Check-in Post immediately where a hearing will be held on your actions and your ships weapons will be disabled.”

“But Captain—“

“Immediately!” He took a deep breath to calm himself. “If you do not, I will put out a warrant for your arrest. I have Alliance authorities expected you at the station in half a day cycle’s time, so you had best be on your way.” He abruptly terminated the conversation and plopped back in his chair with a heavy sigh.

“I think they be lying,” Lt. Jenna Stein said. Both she and Bracht had observed the entire conversation.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Robert replied.

“Killing someone sounds like something the Tredons would do,” Bracht said.

“Yes, but it doesn’t mean they did kill someone. Nor does it mean the boys specifically killed anyone,” he said.

“Even though that boy killed four Grapnes?”

Robert clenched his teeth. Bracht made a great security officer, but he tended to be unbending in some of his opinions. “Tell me, Lt. Commander,” he said patiently, “If your ship were shot down and people from that very ship confronted you, wouldn’t you react the same way?”

Bracht scowled, but didn’t answer.

“Has security reported any problems?” he asked him.

“None, Sir. But it doesn’t mean there won’t be any.”

“Hopefully not,” he replied.

“If his brother dies, the boy may no longer cooperate,” Jenna said.

“And if he lives, my security team will have two Tredon warriors to contend with,” Bracht added.

“Both your points concern me, but there are larger matters to contend with at the moment,” he said. “For one, what are the Grapnes really after? And two, what are we going to do with these boys? If they’re innocent, getting them home won’t be easy.”

“They’re not innocent,” Bracht said.

Robert frowned at him. Until he knew more, the boys were considered innocent. In which case, he would need to get them back to Tredon somehow. It wasn’t as simple as calling on the Tredons. They’d likely see the fact that he had two of their people as highly suspicious. The Tredons and the Alliance were already on uneasy terms, and the last thing he wanted was for them to suspect he had anything to do with this tragedy.

“What if we take boys to the Chevert outpost and give them what they need to find their own way home?” Jenna said. She was very good at grasping the depth of a situation.

“I’m not sure that’s safe,” he replied as he massaged his brow where a headache was developing. “We can’t leave them on their own, especially not with the Grapnes after them.”

“I do find their behavior odd,” Jenna said.

He nodded. The Grapnes might shoot down another ship in order to steal its cargo, but so far, nothing of value had been found. And even if there was, for them to risk offending such a powerful adversary was highly unusual.

“What if the Tredons find out we have them?” Jenna said.

“Believe me, I’ve considered that. Let’s see what Commander Hapker reports. In the meantime, I need you to check with the Depnaugh Space Station to see if authorities there know anything.” He certainly wasn’t going to find out anything from the Grapnes.

“Yes, Sir,” Jenna replied.

“Bracht. Let me know immediately if your security encounters any problems.”

“Yes, Sir.”

 

I’d love to hear some constructive criticism. Please leave a comment below. Praise would be most welcome as well.

(This sci-fi saga is protected by copyright) Copyright February, 2016 by Dawn Ross

You may share this sci-fi novella so long as you link back to this website and mention, The Kavakian Empire by Dawn Ross.

The Kavakian Empire

A Space Opera by Dawn Ross

Part One – Edge of the Dragon’s Shadow (provisional title)

Chapter 5 – Revised

(This is the revised version of part one of my science fiction story. Hopefully, it is a better version. I believe it has a better deep point of view and I think it sets up more tension between Jori and J.D. Don’t be tempted to go and read the unrevised version of this novella. The story has changed in some important aspects. Just come by every Saturday and read a new chapter in the revised version. Please leave feedback because even this revised version is not the final version.)

So far, Jori was not at all what J.D. had expected. Honestly, he wasn’t sure of what to expect. The boy had made some cutting remarks here and there—that was a given. But his mannerisms were very adult-like and his level of intelligence was surprising—surprising and unnerving.

Looking at him now, he appeared to be an ordinary child. He was tall for his age and had some features identifiable as Tredon, the dark hair and the narrowness of his eyes. But he was virtually indistinguishable in the diversity of the Prontaean Alliance. What made him stand out was his mentality and his behaviors.

He walked like a soldier, straight and stiff, as they made their way down the corridor towards the ship’s main common area, the last stop on the tour of the Odyssey. A handful of security guards trailed them, but the boy seemed not to notice or care.

“So you enjoy the science and physics of starships?” he asked casually. They had just left the engineering room where Jori showed an amazing aptitude for the warp engine’s inner workings.

“I wouldn’t say enjoy,” Jori replied. “Father requires I know the information and so I do.”

“If science isn’t something you enjoy, what sorts of things do like to do in your spare time?”

“I have very little spare time.”

“Well, what do you like to do in general?”

“I like to practice in the martial arts.”

“Yes, I got that impression.” He smiled. When he had shown the boy the gymnasium, his eyes lit up and his mouth actually fell open. It was the only emotion besides irritation that he had seen him express so far. “What else?”

Jori stopped and faced him. His eyes narrowed further. “Why do you want to know?”

Great. More irritation. “Just curious,” he replied honestly. “You and I will be spending a lot of time together so I just want to get to know you better.”

“Know your enemy, you mean,” Jori replied candidly. “I can understand that.”

“Well, I suppose that could be part of it. But sometimes when enemies get to know one another, they realize they are not so different and become friends.”

“Hm,” the boy said. J.D. wasn’t sure whether he meant it as acknowledgement or as a derision.

Okay, then. This isn’t going well. “What about games? What kind of games do you like?”

Jori sighed audibly. “I don’t play games, Commander.”

“None at all? No physical games or strategic games?”

“I suppose I like physical challenges and games of strategy.”

“What about Barson Hop or Treasure House?”

“Those are children’s games,” the boy replied with a hint of disdain in his voice. “I definitely don’t play children’s games.”

J.D. suppressed a sigh. The boy’s tone was grating his nerves. “Okay, fine. How about Schemster?” Schemster was his favorite strategic game. It might be too complicated for someone Jori’s age, but it was the first adult strategic game that popped into his head.

“Yes, I like Schemster,” Jori said.

“Really?” he said in a spiked tone. Although he had begun playing Schemster with his grandfather when he was about seven, none of his friends had. “Good. How about after we eat, we play a game of Schemster?”

“Very well,” Jori replied formally without any hint of either eagerness or reluctance.

When they entered the common room, the boy’s posture somehow became more rigid and on guard. It was busy here. It wasn’t as crowded as J.D. had sometimes seen it, but he could understand how being in a room full of people considered as enemies could make one feel so he chose a table in the rearcorner of the room.

Jori took a seat with his back against the wall. It was where J.D. would have sat if he were in a strange place because the vantage point gave a good view of the room.

Shra, one of the common room attendants approached with a smile. “What can I get for you?” Her voice was almost song-like.

J.D. tried to get Jori to order one of the chef’s specialty dishes, but he declined when Shra told him the ingredients. After the food came, J.D. savored each bite. Most children ate all the good food quickly and picked at the stuff they didn’t like, but Jori ate his meal mechanically.

“So, Jori,” he said after they finished their plates. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.” The boy met his eyes. J.D. hesitated, not sure how to ask. He cleared his throat. “Was your father was on the ship?”

Jori stiffened and looked at him with wide eyes. The look disappeared quickly, though, and the boy squinted at him as though in suspicion. “No,” he said.

What was that about? Well, at least he’s not an orphan. “Good,” he said. “So we can get you back to your family.”

“You’re going to send me back?”

“Of course. Don’t you want to go home?”

“I certainly don’t want to stay here.” The boy frowned. “What sort of compensation are you requesting?”

“Compensation? So far as I know, we won’t be asking for any compensation.”

The boy’s eyebrows drew together. “So you’re helping us and sending us home without expecting anything in return?”

“That’s right.”

“Why?”

The question caught him off guard. For him, the answer was obvious. Helping people was a normal part of his life. It’s what his family had done and it’s what people all around him had always done. But how do I explain it to this boy in a way that he’ll understand? He struggled for the right words. “It’s what we do. We’re not just out here to patrol our borders. We also help ships in need.”

“Any ship?”

“Yes. It’s part of the directive of the Prontaean Alliance. To provide assistance to any vessel traveling within our territory, whether it be medical or mechanical.”

The boy made an indecipherable grunt.

“May I ask why your ship was in this area to begin with?” he asked, hoping his tone sounded curious rather than accusing. “You’re a little far from home.”

The boy leaned back but didn’t answer.

“It’s okay. You’re not in trouble,” he said.

Jori’s jaw tightened, but otherwise his face was unreadable.

“I’m not going to pressure you into answering if you don’t want to. But it would really help us if we knew. Wouldn’t you want to know if our situation was reversed?”

“You don’t want to know what things would be like if our situation were reversed, Commander.”

J.D. felt his skin prickle at the boy’s tone. “Maybe not. But how you are being treated here and now should be a point in my favor, right?”

The boy didn’t answer. His jaw was no longer clenched and his face was still unreadable. He met J.D.’s eyes with a directness that he’d seldom seen in other boys his age.

“Very well,” the boy finally said. “We were on our way back from the Depnaugh Space Station when the Grapnes confronted us with a demand for our surrender.”

“Surrender for what?” he asked.

“They didn’t state, they simply demanded,” Jori replied. “We denied them, of course, and that was when they began to fire. We knew we were outgunned and so we ran.” The boy twisted his mouth when he said the last word.

“I’m not sure I understand,” he said. “The Grapnes are usually greedy, but they’re also cowardly. What profit is it for them to attack a Tredon vessel, even if their ship did outmatch yours? Did you have valuable cargo?”

“No,” the boy said. “Just some foodstuff and supplies to repair our ships.”

That confirms what my team has found so far, but there must be more to this. “If you’re not sure, we understand, of course. But your ship is small. Surely you overheard something of the situation?”

Jori’s brow furrowed and his jaw line hardened again. “I don’t know,” he said through clenched teeth.

J.D. suppressed a sigh. The boy was hiding something. Why else would he be so unyielding. But he didn’t want to push it, so asked another question instead. “So when your captain ran, did he intentionally go into Alliance territory?”

At first, he thought the boy wasn’t going to answer. His lips were pressed tight and he jutted out his chin. J.D. didn’t press him, but he waited for an answer.

“We hoped the Grapnes wouldn’t follow,” the boy finally said. “That and we thought the Hellena system would provide us with some cover.”

That made sense, at least. But it still didn’t solve the mystery of what the heck the Grapnes were doing. The boy was hiding something, that he was certain. But he could see the boy’s aggravation was building. As curious as he was, he didn’t want to further rankle the enemy child who would soon be sleeping in his quarters.

*****

J.D. couldn’t move his general. His soldiers were blocked and three of his key pieces were in danger of being captured. He stroked his chin as he studied the board, trying desperately to find a way out of this mess. There was none.

He wasn’t quite sure how the boy had done it. One moment, his soldiers had Jori’s pieces caught in a pincher and the next moment, his general was on the verge of capture.

The pincher formation had long since been scattered and Jori could win in less than five moves. Darn the boy’s smart. He couldn’t believe it. He may not be a professional player, but his major at the Institute was in strategic planning and analysis. Schemster was actually a required subject for anyone seeking a degree this field, and he was the second best Schemster player at the academy that year. To be beaten by a ten-year-old was both shocking and humbling.

“That was amazing,” he said after Jori won the game. “The last person to beat me was a Schemster Master from Harbon.” No one could beat a Harbon strategist. Harbon was planet within the Alliance that specialized in strategic warfare.

The boy’s eyes narrowed. “One should never underestimate his enemy,” he said in a low town.

A chill went down his spine. “Shall we play again?” he asked, pretending the boy’s bluntness didn’t get to him.

Jori agreed and they played another game.

J.D. had let children win before—not that he had let Jori win. The boy won fair and square—but his manner sparked his competitive side. This time, he paid more attention to the moves. Still, the boy outflanked him here and blocked him there. J.D. moved his red colonel in an attempt to keep Jori’s soldiers from getting past his front line. But two moves later and his colonel was down. It wasn’t without sacrifice, though. Jori had lost a major and two soldiers in the process. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to stop him.

J.D. frowned as he studied the board. His strategy wasn’t working. The boy’s strategy seemed to be to win at all costs, even at the loss of important pieces. This gave him an idea.

He let Jori’s pieces get to his side of the board. Then one-by-one, he took out both the boy’s colonels, all but one of his majors, and five of his eight guns. It was only a matter of time before he captured his general.

Fourteen moves later and J.D. finally won. He half-expected Jori to pout or to be angry, as some children his age tended to be when they lost a game. But to his surprise, the boy seemed to take it in stride.

“Your moves are unpredictable,” Jori said. His face lacked any expression.

“Well, you know what they say about keeping your opponent guessing.” It was a taunt of sorts, a way to get even for Jori’s comment about underestimating one’s enemy. He didn’t mean to say it out loud. It made no sense to antagonize someone he’d be sharing quarters with. But it slipped out. There it was.

The boy raised his eyebrow but said nothing. J.D.’s skin prickled ominously. Bracht was right. He’s no mere child. Not at all.

 

I’d love to hear some constructive criticism. Please leave a comment below. Praise would be most welcome as well.

(This sci-fi saga is protected by copyright) Copyright February, 2016 by Dawn Ross

You may share this sci-fi novella so long as you link back to this website and mention, The Kavakian Empire by Dawn Ross.

The Kavakian Empire

A Space Opera by Dawn Ross

Part One – Edge of the Dragon’s Shadow (provisional title)

Chapter 4 – Revised

(Note from author: Part one of my science fiction story is being rewritten. A few important aspects of the story are going to change from the original version, so don’t go back and read the other version in order to find out what’s going to happen. Just come by every Saturday for a new snippet of my novella.)

The gentle heat of the healing bed eased the tension in Jori’s body. His pains ebbed away slowly as his body mended. It was a relief, being healed. But at the same time, an invisible weight seemed to press down on him. Each time he reached out his senses to his brother, he felt a coldness wash over him. Terk’s life force was weak—so weak, he feared it would disappear altogether.

He no longer sensed the mad rush of the doctors. They had pulled away some time back. Their emotions had felt reluctant, like they wanted to do more but for whatever reason, couldn’t.

At first, he thought they meant to let him die. In a way, it was what they were doing. But he understood. When the doctors back home knew there was nothing more to be done for a soldier, they called it a state of critical condition. They said sometimes a man could pull out of it and sometimes he couldn’t. It’s all up to you now, Terk. Come on, you can fight this.

Damn those Grapnes. This was their fault. They were the reason his brother lay at the edge of death. And those damned bastards were the reason for the deaths of the other men on his ship.

He felt an ache in his chest. He knew his men were all dead without anyone telling him. The memory of Bok’s impaled body and Veda’s crushed skull flashed into his mind. It wasn’t just what he’d seen, though. He’d felt the voids of their missing life force. They died protecting him, protecting Terk mostly. But still. They were all gone.

The ache in his chest rose. His eyes began to water. Without them, and without his brother, he was left to face the enemy alone. His heart began to flutter, but he pushed his panic down. I’m a warrior, dammit. I won’t be afraid. He’d fight these Alliance weaklings if he had to. Even if they did outnumber him. Even if they were much stronger than him.

A shallow beep indicated the healing bed was done. He reached to open the lid, but someone else beat him to it. Medic Shera smiled down. He barely glanced at her and flicked his gaze at the Alliance officer standing behind her instead. It was the same man as on the planet, a commander by the insignia on his brownish-grey uniform.

The man stood stiff but alert, in a readiness similar to that of a soldier’s but perhaps a little more at ease. He was tall and fairly well-built as compared to the other Alliance men he’d seen, but not as muscular as a Tredon warrior.

And the man had a smirk on his face. Jori clenched his jaw and scowled. The man thinks he’s triumphed over me? He has no idea what I’m capable of.

He sat up quickly. The insult on his tongue died away as the room spun. He gripped the edge of the bed waiting for the the whirling in his head to subside.

“You alright?” the man said.

His vision came back into focus. The man was standing right beside him now. Jori clenched his jaw. The man was close, close enough for him to strike right in the nose. He was strong enough to draw blood. But no. That was Terk’s way, not his.

The insult came back into his head, but so did a sense of the man’s emotions. The commander didn’t feel cocky. He felt concerned. Jori focused on the sensation. Not a hint of arrogance. So it wasn’t a smirk after all. He could see it now. One side of the commander’s mouth was naturally turned up more than the other.

“How are you feeling?” the medic asked.

He turned back to her. “Well.”

“Good,” she said. He could sense her unease as she did a brief medical inspection. He ignored her again. She wasn’t his concern. This place was. They were helping to heal him, but they could have something else planned. He needed a way out for just in case.

He glanced subtly around the room and mapped out all of his surroundings, the way Master Jetser had taught him. Two armed security officers stood just outside the divider that sectioned off the area he was in. He could sense two more on either side of the opening. And a quick glance further revealed two more guarding the main exit. Then there was the commander himself. At least five medical personnel were also nearby. In Tredon, doctors were also warriors. He doubted it was so here, especially since half of them were women, but it was best not to make assumptions. Besides, they were probably all stronger than him. Maybe not as fast, though. Maybe.

There was nothing nearby he could use as a weapon. Not even any medical tools. The security must have had them cleared away. Smart. It’s what he would have done. Well, except his prisoners would be in a cell. Or if they were injured he might let them be healed. But they’d be strapped down. These Alliance people were a little more trusting, but perhaps not so foolish.

The medic handed him some clothes. He unfolded the black jumpsuit. It was black in color and long sleeve like his uniform. But there the similarity ended. The material was not the same, nor was it the same style. It didn’t even have built-in armor to protect him. He frowned but said nothing. It wasn’t like he had much of a choice. At least it was black.

“I bet you’re hungry,” the medic said. “Would you like something to eat?”

“Yes,” he replied. The healing bed always left his stomach feeling hollow.

“Anything in particular?” she asked. “I believe our processor has some Tredon recipes.”

Instead of food, He gave her a list of nutritional requirements. For some people, food was a vice. He might not be physically strong yet, but he was mentally strong enough not to be weakened by temptation. “I do not care what form it comes in or how it tastes.”

Both the medic and the commander raise an eyebrow, but neither commented. Of course the Alliance was wrought with temptations. Why else would they keep so many women about.

“Very well,” the medic replied.

The medic left. He came down off the healing bed and faced the commander. He chastised himself for automatically going into a militaristic at-ease stance. This was the same way he faced his instructors and his father as a sign of respect. This man didn’t deserve his respect so he unclasped his hands defiantly.

“Hello,” the commander said. When he smiled, the crookedness of his mouth was even more pronounced. “I’m J.D.” He held out his hand in greeting.

Jori glanced at his hand with a frown. A trick? No. The commander felt genuine. Odd. I’m his enemy. Why should I shake his hand like we’re friends? Because of Terk, that’s why.

He tentatively put out his own hand and performed the customary hand shake of the Alliance. “Jori,” he said, giving his own informal name in return. He had decided it was safe to give his real name. He wasn’t well-known. Terk, on the other hand—they couldn’t find out who he was. Or what he’d been up to. Whatever niceness these people were presenting wouldn’t last if they knew.

*****

J.D. noted the boy’s wariness. It wasn’t a nervous wariness, but an alert guardedness of a soldier. “It’s alright,” he said. “We’re going to help you.”

“And what of my brother? Are you helping him as well?” the boy, Jori, replied accusingly.

“He’s stable at the moment, but he’s in really bad shape.” He wasn’t surprised to hear the other boy was his brother. Even though the faces of both boys had been battered from the crash, there was a strong resemblance between them. “He’s in a status we call critical cond—.”

“I’m familiar with the term,” Jori said.

“So you understand it’s not as simple as putting him in a healing bed.”

The boy scowled. “I just said I understood.”

J.D. cleared his throat. “Good,” he said, ignoring the boy’s attitude. “I promise we’ll do whatever we can to help him pull through, though.”

The boy’s frown disappeared. Without thinking, J.D. put his hand on his shoulder to assure him. The boy glanced at the hand with an unreadable expression and he pulled it away awkwardly.

The hardness of the boy’s demeanor returned quickly. “And what of me?” Jori asked. “I’m assuming I am to be held as your prisoner.”

“Actually, you will be staying with me.”

The boy’s brow furrowed, hooding his dark narrow eyes. “Are you to be my interrogator?”

The way he said the word interrogator made him think he really meant torturer. “No! Goodness no. We will certainly ask you questions, but we do not torture people.” My God. What sort of world does this boy live in?

“You say you will do everything you can for my brother. Is this contingent upon my cooperation?”

J.D. raised his eyebrows. Big words for a boy. “No, of course not,” he replied as assuredly as he could. “We’d be grateful for your cooperation, though. And it would certainly help if we knew what was going on, what happened between you and the Grapnes. But we’re not going to hold you or your brother’s life over your head in order to get that information.”

“You swear it?”

“Yes, I swear it,” he replied. J.D. might not know Captain Arden that well, but he doubted the man wouldn’t let the youth die out of spite.

Jori stared at him as if studying him. “Good,” he said. His expression was stone-faced.

J.D. sighed inwardly. No boy should be this hard. I’ve certainly got some rough travels ahead of me with this one.

 

I’d love to hear some constructive criticism. Please leave a comment below. Praise would be most welcome as well.

(This sci-fi saga is protected by copyright) Copyright February, 2016 by Dawn Ross

You may share this sci-fi novella so long as you link back to this website and mention, The Kavakian Empire by Dawn Ross.

The Kavakian Empire

A Space Opera by Dawn Ross

Part One – Edge of the Dragon’s Shadow (provisional title)

Chapter 3 – Revised

(Note from the author: This is the rewritten version of part one, chapter 3 of my science fiction story. The original version was posted in the summer of 2014. I’ve only changed a little bit of it. Mostly, I tried to rewrite it in deep PoV. Let me know what you think of my novella so far. Feel free to leave constructive feedback below.)

“He must be kept in the brig.” Lt. Commander Bracht had a powerfully deep voice. It sounded like the Rabnoshk warrior was making a demand, but J.D. had come to realize in his short time on this ship that it was just the way the man spoke. Direct. To the point. And sometimes even overly bold.

“The brig? For a single child of no more than ten cycles, Sir?” Lt. Hanna Sharkey replied.

“He killed four Grapnes!” Bracht said a little too harshly. J.D. saw Captain Arden’s eyebrow raise ever so slightly. The look was all that was needed. “Single handedly,” Bracht said more calmly. “Besides, he’s a Tredon. Our enemy. They can’t be trusted.”

J.D. agreed with Bracht to a point. The boy’s phaser was a kill-weapon, not a defensive weapon like their own Alliance issued phasers, which could be sent to stun or kill. But the boy was defending himself. And he didn’t fire at J.D. or his other crew members.

“Enemies or not,” the captain replied. “We are not at war with the Tredons. Nor do we wish to be. This situation must be handled carefully. I won’t treat the child as a criminal without just cause.”

“Killing four men isn’t just cause?” Bracht said, his tone sounding angry.

“It was self-defense,” J.D. added.

“We don’t know that,” Bracht shot back. “The Grapnes said the Tredons attacked them and stole their cargo.”

“There is no evidence of stolen cargo,” J.D. replied. Bracht harrumphed. “Besides,” J.D. continued, “I don’t think he should be held responsible for it if they did. He’s just a boy.”

“You saw what that so-called boy did with your own eyes. He’s dangerous,” Bracht said heatedly.

“But he didn’t shoot at us.” J.D.’s own tone was getting a little heated. He was new to the Odyssey so he was still unsure of the Rabnoshk warrior. But he wasn’t about to back down. Everything he’d witnessed so far indicated the boy was acting in self-defense. And he’s still just a child.

“He threatened you.”

“He was just trying to determine if we were a threat.”

“Obviously you weren’t since I heard you surrendered to him.”

J.D. bristled. “That is enough, Lieutenant Commander.” He eyed the man sternly. He wanted to say more, to defend his decision, but he had already given a full report of his actions. There was no reason to defend them against this man.

Bracht clamped his mouth shut. His frown deepened, but he didn’t argue further.

J.D. turned back to the captain. The captain glanced back and forth between J.D. and Bracht. His demeanor gave no indication of what of he thought this outburst. It made J.D. a little uneasy, not knowing. The man’s apparent indifference always made him feel like a fish in an aquarium.

The captain set his elbows on the conference table and intertwined his fingers. “Lieutenant Stein?” he said, addressing Jenna, the ship’s top anthropologist.

“I would not underestimate these Tredon warriors at any age,” she said. She pronounced warrior as varrior and J.D. recognized her accent as from the desert world of Kochuru. “There be no telling when this boy began training…or what sort of training he had.”

“So you’re recommending the brig as well?” Captain Arden said.

“I’m not sure that be called for, Sir,” Lt. Stein replied. “The Tredons do be our enemies, but we can never make peace if we treat even their children as criminals. I recommend a full armed security detail, no less.”

“Armed?” J.D. said. “If this boy has training, we risk him being able to disarm someone.”

“Which is why he should be in the brig,” Bracht said.

J.D. clenched his jaw. “That’s not what I meant. I say unarmed. And if he causes trouble, then we can restrain him. Whatever fighting skills he has, he’s not that strong yet.” Certainly your security team can handle a small child, he wanted to say. Best not sound petty, though.

“And what of the other one?” Bracht asked.

“We’re not even sure he’ll live,” J.D. replied.

The captain rest his chin on his steepled fingers. Although the captain could be hard to read, J.D. had been relieved when the man didn’t react to him allowing the enemy onto the ship. He seemed to have taken it as a given.

The captain lay his hands flat on the table. “I’m not going to put a boy in the brig unless he gives us a reason,” he said. “That is my final decision. We’ll worry about the other one if he makes it.” Bracht didn’t look happy about the decision but he didn’t argue. “I will, however, recommend a four-man detail of security at all times.”

“I have six in sickbay now, Sir,” Bracht replied. “Should I call two of them off?” J.D. thought Bracht’s tone was almost insubordinate—almost.

“No,” the captain replied. Only a small lift of his eyebrow told J.D. that he had heard the tone as well. But he didn’t acknowledge it in any other way. “Let’s keep the security on him until we have had a chance to speak to him. Commander,” he said to J.D., “I want you to go down and talk to him.”

“Yes, Sir,” J.D. replied.

“Lieutenant Commander, organize a security detail shift of six to stay on him for now and add security to engineering and other off-limit areas of the ship.”

“Yes, Sir,” Bracht replied. He seemed somewhat mollified by the captain’s acknowledgement that the boy could be a security risk.

“If the boy isn’t going to be in a cell,” Hanna said, “where is he going to stay?”

“J.D.?” The captain said.

J.D. was about to suggest an officer, but something about the look the captain was giving him told him he was asking something else. “Me?” he asked dubiously.

“He’s of a warrior class,” the captain replied, “which means he’s used to a ranking hierarchy. I need someone of high rank and with martial skills to instill authority. Besides, I hear you’re good with children.”

“That’s no child,” Bracht muttered.

J.D.’s mouth fell open and he snapped it shut again. This was another test. He was sure of it. But then again, he couldn’t argue with the captain’s logic. Although J.D. wanted to give the boy the benefit of the doubt regarding security, now that he was faced with being directly responsible for him he wondered if he’d taken the wrong stance. What have I gotten myself into?

 

Please comment below with constructive criticism, tips, and/or hopefully some praise.

(This sci-fi saga is protected by copyright) Copyright February, 2016 by Dawn Ross

You may share this sci-fi novella so long as you link back to this website and mention, The Kavakian Empire by Dawn Ross.