Reynard nods. The image of the white-maned alien materializes.
“Admiral.”
“The ISN news reports Commodore Micah Donkor has suffered a heart failure.”
Could be one definition. Amye blew his chest open. “We completed your mission.”
“Then it’s time to move forward as the Shalenotun government scrambles to replace Donkor. I assigned Ki-Ton to the crew because he has been one of my most trusted agents.”
“Commander Reynard did request those highly qualified in their respective fields,” Australia says.
“As a linguist you are unmatched, Australia. Another of my agents needs to report information, but he will only deal directly with Ki-Ton.”
Reynard almost felt, finally, that he and his crew had earned a place in Maxtin’s network with the assassination of Donkor. Now again he considers himself out of the loop, “I understand, Admiral.”
“No, you don’t. You’ll find the agent in question on Delnes Prime.”
“Inside Throgen-claimed territory,” Doug announces before the navigation officer responds.
Australia knows little of the dangers outside the Tri-Star Federation. “What if the Commander chooses not to accept this mission?”
“We’ll retrieve the information for the Admiral,” Reynard pops off.
“I’ll transmit coordinates. Ki-Ton will be able to fill you in on the operational needs of this assignment.”
The image cuts out.
“Athena, have Ki-Ton report to the bridge. Did he seem funny to anyone else?” Reynard inquires.
“He was not concerned about your success on Shalenotun.”
“I’ve got the coordinates but nothing else,” Doug reports.
“He has sent you blindly into unknown space. Not normal operations for him,” Australia adds.
“What agent in Throgen space could have been part of the UCP founding?” Reynard asks. “Find me everything about the symbol, the connection to the Battle of the Twin Suns, and where we’re going.”
Reynard leaps from his chair to grab Ki-Ton before he falls over.
He raises his hand to halt Reynard’s advance. “I’m fine, Commander. My species needs to…” he pauses. “Hibernate. I’m overdue.”
“How long must you slumber?” Australia inquires.
Before he answers, Reynard barks, “Maxtin’s requested we retrieve information from one of his agents on Delnes Prime who will only speak to you.”
“In Throgen space,” Ki-Ton speculates. “It must be vital.”
“Not at the expense of your health.”
Australia’s concern for him would mean a great deal to lesser life forms. He has no sentiments except for his own agenda. “How long to reach Delnes Prime?”
“It will take three days in hyperspace.”
“Sufficient time to rest. Along with the time it will take to return to UCP space. Too much risk in transmitting the information or the agent would have done so.”
“The Admiral said we should defer to you on this mission.”
“Then wake me when we arrive in the Delnes system.”
LOCKED OUT OF most of the shuttle’s controls, Maxtin remains content to observe Thierry, the one Zayar he hoped to keep as an ally. None of his people will involve themselves in off-world affairs, and he could use more Zayar assistance. With the expected life span of over two hundred fifty years, the wisdom of his people will not be shared with those not born true to the birthright of their species. He could never accept the prejudices instilled in the schoolchildren of his planet. Even his parents and their constant disapproval of how the Osirians doomed entire solar systems did nothing to dissuade him from wanting to witness these putrid beings. How they constantly soil their own nests, yet breed in uncontrolled numbers. Population regulations are standard on many planets to preserve natural resources, and the Zayars become masters at ensuring birth and death levels balance with food production and waste disposal.
That kind of control over his life fostered his desire to stay as far away from his home planet as he could, for as long as he could.
Unable to operate any of the ship’s controls, he opts for reading the sensor scans on the monitors. Despite not having seen his planet for nearly thirty-five years, he could never forget the environmental levels the sensors should be displaying. Any space trekker will tell you that no air they breathe soothes the lungs like any place but their birth world. Those born aboard the recycled air of starships don’t understand what it is to drink deeply the natural mixture of atmospheric pressures evolution designed them for.
Calm. Maxtin asks, “Where are we going?”
“Zayous VI. Just like I said.”
“The coordinates appear authentic, but the sensor readings of the planet are not of Zayous.”
“You left how long ago? Sensor readings change over forty years.”
“Not like this. Not without a major catastrophe befalling a planet. No such a cataclysm has afflicted Zayous.”
“You know nothing, Maxtin.”
“What happened?” the Admiral demands.
“How long has it been since you’ve seen your home world, Maxtin?” Thierry asks.
“The duties of running the Confederation kept me away a long time.”
“Before the Battle of the Twin Suns?”
“I enlisted in the Osirian Coalition fleet as a fighter pilot. I was merely a Lieutenant when the UCP was birthed.”
“You should have returned to your people when the Coalition fell,” Thierry snaps. “They’ve forgiven you for being away for only a few years.”
“The only species who could rally the fragmented Osirians and their allies to counterattack the Mokarran with any success would be Zayars.”
“Our people wanted nothing to do with what the Tri-Star Federation was undertaking…and for good reason. With the Osirians gone, the Tibbar Empire broke its alliance with the Federation, invading and committing genocide on the Nysaeans. You couldn’t stop it.”
“I will make sure no such butchery occurs again.”
“Slaughter?” Thierry adds, “The Nysaeans were never innocent.”
“Zayars are unable to profess as much.”
“We have wanted to do nothing more than to keep to ourselves on our own planet. Nothing stopped the Mokarran from launching a pre-emptive strike on Zayous VI.”
“You need a medical examination of your synaptic pathways,” Maxtin insults Thierry.
“The Mokarran launched a chemical weapons attack on Zayous after they defeated you at the Battle of the Twin Suns. We’ve kept the devastation hidden because of the fear other species have of us. If any of them knew we were vulnerable, it would
