OMEGA Exile

  Chapter 12

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  Gernell pressed several buttons on her arm pad. A holo-display appeared, covering most of the wall behind her. “This is what we know. These ships, of unknown origin, have taken nearly 20 percent of the galaxy from the Dullex family defenses. Two security stations, just like this one, have been overrun. Thirty-nine inhabited planets and 126 colonies have been taken. We don’t know if our citizens on those worlds survived, were slaughtered, or were taken away to be made slaves.

  “We are taking measures to stop this attacking force. As some of you may have heard, a ship construction yard is being built here in the Theta sector. I know the rumors have been flying that it's privateers or other families, or even that it's the beginning of a rebellion. All those rumors are false. It is a construction yard being built to turn out warships for the New Alliance. The first of those ships will be ready in the next few months. Production should ramp up quickly after that.

  “As I'm sure each of you would have to reason, ships need crews, and assaults or defenses need armies. You have no doubt by now heard of the disappearance of entire colonies in some of the remote sectors. This next bit of information may be shocking, but it is a necessity if we're going to be able to defend ourselves. The colony raids… have not been raids. Each of those colonies, and all their inhabitants, have been conscripted into the military service of the New Alliance.”

  Voices of outrage erupted as the horrifying thoughts of our own citizens being forced into military service sank in. I looked at Joni as her jaw dropped open.

  Gernell again held up her hand. “Quiet! We have much more to tell you. That decision was made many years ago by the families, and it was a unanimous decision at the time. So, be outraged if you want, but know this: we have to fight a war, and it was determined, after studies were conducted, that a volunteer army of sufficient size could not be raised. Our people have been fat, dumb, and happy for far too long, and few are willing to put their lives on the line for the rest of us. Conscription, as unpopular as that might seem at the moment, is our only viable method for raising the forces needed to confront the current threat.

  “I will also tell you that to date, those forces have only been successful at slowing the spread of the invaders. We are at war, ladies and gentlemen, a war that we are currently losing. Not a month goes by that a planet or a few colonies don't fall to the attackers. We must build up a military sufficient to stop their advances before the entire Andromeda galaxy is lost.

  “That brings me back to you. Why are you here? You are here because agents of the invaders have infiltrated many of our sectors. The Alpha sector, your home, will become one of those sectors in the near future. Activity has picked up in the outer sectors already and is spreading inward. With this organization, we are attempting to control that infiltration before it becomes deeply embedded in our operations. If the invaders know what we are up to, they can respond with actions that are crippling to our most important efforts.

  “Now, I will entertain only a few questions. If I deem the question of low importance, I will ask someone else for something of substance. Don’t be offended by this action. For all of us, our time here is limited, so we must make the best use of it. Who would like to go first?”

  One of the attendees said, “You mentioned missions. I work on an import/export inspection crew at our planet’s, Grekan Prime’s, portal transfer station. What sort of mission would I be expected to perform?”

  Gernell replied, “Good question. At some point you may be asked to move cargo through regardless of its contents. You might think that means falsifying reports; it does. However, from time to time we will have need of moving cargo without it being tracked. You wouldn’t want an enemy agent to know that a shipment of one hundred thousand ion amplifiers was heading to an outer colony. We will make every effort to make what you do seamless so that it doesn’t attract undue attention. Next question.”

  A second attendee raised his hand. “I work in a manufacturing facility that makes sensitive parts. What sort of missions might I expect?”

  Gernell placed her hands on the desk in front of her. “OK, each of you will be briefed on what to expect from your individual handlers. Next question.”

  I raised my hand as I said, “The colonists who have been conscripted into military service—what happens to their spouses, children, or other family members they may care for?”

  Gernell nodded. “Good question. All able-bodied persons in a family are subject to the military service. We, however, are not barbarians. If there are children or elderly involved, the least able spouse is assigned a job in a support effort while the other heads for the front. Children are placed in day care or school wherever the spouse is deployed. The elderly are sent to a facility where they are cared for by a trained staff. I realize this may sound horrible to most of you, but we are doing the best we can. If we aren’t able to get control of our own efforts here at home, the war in Andromeda will be lost.”

  No further questions were asked. I reasoned that for most of us, this was all too new and too deep for off-the-cuff questions. Gernell Wofford had completed her initial brief.

  We were instructed to wait for a personal handler to come for each of us. Joni and I were unique in that we would be the only team among the fifteen new recruits. Only minutes had passed before the handlers began to come into the room. A short blob of a being with six stocky legs and a deep reddish-brown, thin skin slowly stepped up in front of us.

  The blob said, “My name is Gretchin Coolies. You will follow me, please.”

  Gretchin turned and began to slowly walk. Joni had a bewildered look on her face as we followed the meter-tall, meter-wide, and two-meter-long being out into the hallway. I found it fascinating that neither of us could take our eyes off the rolling undulations of body fat that moved across her back as the naked being walked before us. The movement of each muscle started a wave that rolled across and then up her body, only stopping when struck by another wave or when reaching her thick neck.

  Gretchin turned and snickered. “Don’t be embarrassed. You aren’t the first people to be mesmerized by my movement.”

  Joni replied, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to stare. It’s just…mesmerizing, just as you stated.”

  Gretchin stopped. “We use that as a defense mechanism just before we viciously attack our prey.”

  Joni pulled her head back. “Wait. What?”

  Gretchin laughed. “Don’t worry, Miss Salton. We Simbrels are about as docile as they come. We do have a wicked sense of humor, though. Watch this.”

  Gretchin stopped and tightened all the muscles in her back at once. The rolling waves ceased, and her back became calm and smooth in appearance. In a single move, the Simbrel picked up both rear legs, sending a single wave from her hindquarters up her back and to her neck. She then began a series of quick moves that set up a continuous wave pattern that was again fascinating to watch.

  After another complete back-muscle freeze, Gretchin said, “You should see me on the dance floor. Hahaha!”

  Joni said, “I like her. I like her a lot. Thank you for the humor, Gretchin; that talk back there was a little intense.”

  Gretchin replied, “We only live once, Miss Salton. If we spend our lives worrying, we soon find that we missed out on a large part of living.”

  As we walked, I asked a question. “Miss Coolies, I believe you may be the first sentient species I have come across that doesn’t have dexterous hands or some other method to grasp and hold items. How is it that Simbrels were able to develop and survive?”

  Joni smacked my shoulder. “That’s kind of rude!”

  Gretchin laughed. “It’s OK, Miss Salton. Gruntas are not known for being discreet. They say what's on their minds. Mr. Beutcher, I take no offense at the question. We are a symbiotic species. On our world, we were the brains, the educators, and the architects. We had a partner species who were dutiful and kind workers. The Horga found us to be extrem
ely funny. We are also excellent entertainers. Out here in the Alliance, we find it easy to survive and to thrive with the help of so many available beings.”

  I replied, “That is interesting, Miss Coolies. I would have selected intelligence as being a powerful tool for survival, but it seems you have mastered the use of humor as well.”

  Gretchin nodded as we continued to plod along. “Every sentient species has special skills, attributes, and abilities that allow them to survive. You Grunta: raw muscular power, and extremely tough skin, and that thick skull. All effective tools, as one would say. And by the way, please call me Gretchin. We are likely to get to know each other extremely well over the coming years. I will be your trainer here and your handler once you leave.”

  The following four weeks moved by in a flash. Gretchin was a pleasure to work with. She took no offense at any question asked and laughed at my dry attempts at humor. It was easy to see how her species had survived as a symbiote. You couldn’t help but like her.

  As we walked back through the portal and down to Bay-17, Joni said, “The world has definitely changed. Some of what we have been seeing makes a lot more sense now.”

  I replied, “I would agree with some of that. I’m not as enthusiastic about what we have going on, or what they expect from us. I’ll be using my discretion if I think any of the coming missions are getting out of hand. When we get out there in the field, we sometimes have to make split-second decisions. Some of those decisions may not align with the organization’s goals.”

  Joni smiled. “I get what you're saying. I was never one to just blindly follow rules anyway.”

  As we entered Bay-17, Paq Wendell was standing by the Daunte. “Knog, Miss Salton, I trust your month-long boondoggle was enjoyable?”

  I replied, “You should have a full report in your data store, Captain. I think you’ll see how much we are already doing right. I think Joni derived more benefit from it than I.”

  The Captain looked at my arms. “What, not even a patch to show you attended? Look, Knog, I know we have been butting heads lately, and the Chief wants me to fix that. So, I’ll be giving you a little extra rope to play with going forward. Just do us both a favor and don’t hang us with it.”

  I nodded. “Got it, Captain. No hanging. Now, if you don’t mind, I have a two-day pass to see the wife and kids, and I would like to make the best use of my time by preparing for that.”

  The Captain gestured toward the Daunte’s ramp. “And Miss Salton, what will you be doing during your break?”

  Joni looked at me. “I’ve been invited to the Beutcher compound, Captain. Knog is the first Grunta I have ever met, and I would like to get to know more of them if possible.”

  The Captain shook his head. “I think you might find them less than entertaining. Gruntas can be stodgy, stubborn, and all-around pain-in-the-asses. Enjoy your break, Miss Salton.”

  Raptor growled at the Captain as we walked by. “Why does that dog hate me?”

  I replied with a smirk, “He’s just a good judge of character, Captain, nothing more.”

  After settling into the Daunte’s cabin, Joni said, “I wish we were taking the ship with us. I could use a little time out running around in her.”

  A voice could be heard at the bottom of the ramp-way. “Hello? Mr. Beutcher?”

  I replied, “Come on up.”

  The gentleman in a gray suit stopped at the midpoint of the steps as Raptor moved into his view.

  The man said, “Sorry to intrude, sir. I have been authorized to remove the recording devices from this ship. Since some of the work you will be doing will be for the organization, it was decided recordings of that information would become a liability to our cause.”

  Joni smiled as she said, “Recording devices? Why, who would have put such things on this ship?”

  The man nodded. “We knew you knew they were here, Miss Salton. They're being removed now, and I'll be adding a program to your consoles that will allow the complete erasure of the ship’s recordings should you find yourself in need of doing such. The recording will show as an ongoing fault with a faulty indicator. Should anyone call you out on it, you will easily be able to deny any knowledge of what happened to the recordings.”

  Joni stood. “I like that, Mr.…?”

  The man removed the first device. “My name is not important, Miss Salton. I will be removing all five devices.”

  Joni turned to look at me. “Looks like we didn’t find them all after all.”

  “We're due at the portal gate in half an hour. Put together whatever you want to take with you.”

  When the organization agent had finished, he nodded and turned down the ramp-way. After gathering our things, we moved on to the portal gate for our transfer to Nubor Prime. From there we would make a jump to SS32 and then to Balimus II, the Grunta home world.

  As we stood in line at the portal transfer station, I said, “Restricted travel is one of the biggest concerns to the populace right now. Everyone used to move freely through these portals. It was no one’s business where you were going. I get the need for protecting these portals and for stopping the flow of rebellious movements, but it takes its toll on the regular traveler who has done nothing wrong.”

  Joni shook her head. “Well, if it was up to me, I would open them back up. All this standing in line is not helping anyone.”

  I picked up my duffel bag and moved forward a step. “If you really wanted to bring the economies of the New Alliance to a halt, a strike on one of these gates would have an immense impact on the citizen psychology. Who would risk travel or even shipping of goods through a portal that was a target? We just have to face the fact that this is the new normal.”

  Joni smirked. “I—”

  A deafening explosion rocked the gate in front of us as a crowd of bodies flew backward. The very thing we were discussing had happened. I picked up a dazed and confused Joni and headed back down the hall along with several dozen others who had their wits about them. As we turned out into the main hallway, I leaned Joni against a wall. The steady stream of runners coming from the gate hallway soon turned from those who had only been knocked down to those with injuries. Panic and screams ensued.

  I tapped Joni on the cheek. “Hey, you still with me?”

  Joni shook her head slowly as she squinted and blinked her eyes. “What just happened? Are you OK? We have to go back and help those people.”

  I gently squeezed her shoulder. “You aren’t going anywhere until that fog clears from your head. After that, we're heading back to the Daunte.”

  The sabotage of the portal gate to Nubor Prime came as a shock to those on SS5. Here we were on a government station for the New Alliance, a station that had been a symbol of peace and security for millennia, and an attack on civilians had just taken place.

  All portal travel on SS5 was brought to an immediate stop. Travelers who were headed our way would have to find alternate routes. Those already on SS5 would have to hire ships for transport to the next live portal. Life as we knew it had taken another bad turn.

  I closed a comm with my wife after assuring her that I was safe and telling her that all travel to and from SS5 through the portals had been suspended. She was disappointed, but understanding.

  Joni said, “Most Human women would be freaking out right now. Are all Grunta women so calm?”

  I nodded. “Our women are the examples we live by. They were once the fierce warriors that protected our people. That’s not to say that our men were pushovers; they were anything but that. Our women, however, could be savage if they felt their families or their families’ livelihoods were threatened. You never want to cross a Grunta woman.”

  Joni half laughed. “Hey, you could take half of the Human women and run them off with half a shake of your fist. There are those that will stand up and fight just as yours, and from what I understand of our beginnings, Human women could be thuggish if need be, but I think the years of peace and plenty under AMP have made them soft.”

/>   “You don’t seem so soft, Joni Salton. You have a good fighting spirit.”

  “OK, well, I guess I’ll take that as a compliment. So, when do you think we'll get our first mission?”

  I shook my head. “Do you not remember the rules? There should be no mention of missions or the organization in casual conversation. It only takes one curious individual to blow our cover and to expose the Zed Corporation.”

  Joni pointed. “There, you just broke the rules twice.”

  I gestured toward the holo-display. “Look over the schedule log and see if the captain has posted anything for us.”

  After checking, Joni raised her hand in a fist. “Yes. It looks like they finally set us up with something. A freighter, supposedly carrying freshwater to a dry mining colony. It’s not much, but at least it gets us out of here.”

  I looked at Joni. “You are eager for action, aren’t you?”

  “I’m so eager I would gladly—”

  A comm came over a private channel, interrupting our conversation. “This is Gretchin, sorry to hear about your break being cut short. As your first mission, you are directed to make the inspection of the freighter in a timely manner, and to then proceed to the Zebulon colony. You will receive further instruction when you arrive.”

  Joni replied, “Thank you, Gretchin. Anything else?”

  Gretchin replied, “In due time, Miss Salton. Let’s take this one on and see if we can finish it off first. Now, you two be careful out there. I will be in contact when you reach Zebulon.”

  The comm channel closed.