James Scotson - Planets Falling

“I’m the leader of this expedition. Not you. And it is clear that the defabrication on the Platform was intended for me and Fen. Your responsibility was to keep me informed.”

Fromer stared at the portal.

“What are you thinking Fromer? Respond to me.” Grey demanded. “I always considered you an honest companion. Don’t risk my trust now.”

Fromer continued gawking. In the portal, silhoutted by the tan light was a figure that the hybrid hadn’t seen in nearly a hundred years. It was Mup by all physical characters, except his eyes and mouth were vacant, gaping black holes. He was glowing lightly. The soldiers and Grey turned toward the portal. By their reaction, it was clear to Fromer that they saw Mup as well.

“Mup? What are you doing here? How?” Fromer whispered in astonishment. The figure jumped backwards out of the portal. Fromer heard surprised shouts outside the ship as the remainder of the crew met the mysterious visitor bounding down the gangway.

Fromer was merely fifty years old when he was assigned to his first security detail — young for his kind. His previous assignments were purely diplomatic missions to improve ties between the zenats and humans.

The fun was in security; he was thrilled. Piracy was a perpetual problem in deep space. Most of the criminals were rogue humans, many of them pilots that had broken from their guild and decided to control their own destiny. The vastness of space was their most effective weapon. They cached their spoils and hid on any number of uncharted, lifeless worlds. The planets undergoing terraformation were particularly fetching. The air on these planets was usually breathable. With some knowledge about the network of sensors around these planets, the pirates could evade detection and set up camps. Their motivations were complex. Obviously, economics played a role. However, governors of various colonies often were vying for power, using the pirates as clandestine weapons. A lost shipment here, kidnapped colonists there — these were ways for one planet to weaken the government on another. These games continued for centuries. Blood trailed through history.

Fromer was eager to assert himself. He was commanding a vessel, the Fuerst, named after the human leader of mars that led humanity through its exile from old earth. It was a fine battle cruiser, bristling with weapons. The pilot was an experienced zenat named Etch. Etch was grey, with dark streaks on his glowing skin. Scars formed webs on his arms and legs. Sixteen, well-trained commandos, all human, were Fromer’s to lead. Each soldier had enough firepower to storm a city. Their ship was the fear of the criminal world.

Several weeks before, a cargo vessel, the Stellar, was found floating powerless near a buoy in deep space, thousands of light years from any colonized system. The crew and passengers were missing, with the exception of one poor soul, the ship’s pilot. She was lashed to a communications dish on the aft of the ship. In her frozen mouth was a piece of parchment. Written in her blood was a single word: traitor. Her throat was slashed.

Fromer knew the doomed pilot of that ship and removed her body himself. Her name was Lizza. She was a nervous, young woman with a troubled past. Her brother was another member of the pilot’s guild who had vanished several years before and was a suspected pirate. Fromer convinced her to provide information about any contact she’d had with her sibling. It would take years of discourse to build trust between them. Fromer was a patient being and ready for the commitment. The brief exchange was the extent of their transaction. It was sufficient to warrant Lizza’s death.

Fromer and his crew had a lead in the case. Deep in the highjacked Stellar was a tracing beacon in a cargo container. The pirates were sloppy and apparently brought the beacon on board their ship. The transmitter, tucked discretely in a container of spices, was designed to communicate with the infraspace navigation network. When the pirate vessel neared a buoy, it sent a signal home to the Institute. The last known location was near a habitable ocean planet, similar to old earth. The naurons were terraforming it with great intensity with the assistance of Insitute exoscientists. This planet boasted only one continent. Most of the biological activity was being brewed by the terraformers in the briny depths. The rocky, mountainous continent only held a few forms of primitive plants dotted here and there along the slopes — a perfect place for pirates to hide. Caves and outcroppings were everywhere. A ship and thousands of cargo containers could be hidden most anywhere on the surface.

Former ordered Etch to drop the Fuerst onto the face of the planet’s closet moon. Most of the terraformed or colonized planets had large, earth-like moons. The satellites’ large mass created a gravitational pull that stabilized their planet’s gravity and allowed life to thrive on the surface. Fromer mused that the Insitute had a similar effect on the stability of the galaxy. Without the heavy hand of the Family Collective, chaos would reign. The Institute was a moon orbiting the mass of intelligent beings in the galaxy, creating stability and promoting the expansion of life in the universe. He felt a twinge of pride and, could it be? Affection.

They waited deliberately for nearly a week, scanning the continent for activity. Fromer was resting in his cabin when the evening watch announced that a small vessel — a shuttle — was descending toward the surface. Its source was unknown. The galaxy-class ship from which it likely came was evading detection. However, the trajectory of the shuttle was easily tracked until it slid behind a cragged mountain at the center of the continent.

Fromer decided it would be best to ambush the pirates at the surface. The Fuerst’s crew loaded their shuttle, cloaked the Fuerst on the moon’s surface, and flew toward the last location of the pirate vessel. Etch landed the shuttle in a small mountain pass near towering rock spires. The sky was grey, bubbling with clouds. From above, their ship was barely discernable from the boulders and gravel. They released four fist-sized, cylindrical drones, each of which hovered silently for a moment and then sped off in the suspected direction of the pirates’ encampment.

Telemetry data streamed in all morning from the drones. Each mountain pass, cliff, and cave looked the same. All of the soil and rocks were the same dull slate with an occasional patch of terraformed green. The soldiers took turns holding watch — for what they did not know. As the yellow star this planet called its sun dropped below the mountains, the temperature dipped. The soldiers retreated into the warmth of the shuttle’s central cabin. The moon was rising when drone three hit pay dirt. Its thermal sensors noticed a temperature anomaly. It steered in that direction and began streaming video to Fromer and his colleagues. From its elevated vantage, they could see a small city tucked in a deep crevasse a mile wide and a thousand feet below the surface. From space, the colony was invisible, cloaked in shadow.

The three other drones joined their brother and began discretely surveying the area. In many ways, the pirate colony resembled the school compound — the Quarters — where Fromer spent his early childhood. Buildings were strewn haphazardly across the floor of the canyon. Some were round, others angular. Several of the facilities clearly extended underground. To the south in the shadows sprawled a makeshift spaceport. Ships of every kind were tightly packed, nearly touching each other. Fromer began the inventory of the fragile eggs in their rocky carton: the Deacon, lost two years ago; the X457, stolen during a firefight not far from zenat; the Rennick Blue, a transport vessel. This last one had a particularly chilling history. The passengers, three hundred colonists including twenty-three children, were moving to a recently terraformed planet. They all were recovered frozen solid, floating near a navigation buoy. It appeared that they were placed in the cargo hold of the Rennick Blue en masse and blown into space. Fromer counted another thirty ships, of which he could identify twenty-five. These were productive pirates. This was an encounter for the history texts.