Great Ones - The Tymorean Trust Book 2 by Margaret Gregory - HTML preview

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Chapter 18 - Infiltration

 

Commander Jordan straightened his new dark green uniform and fingered the rank insignia self-consciously. Having Villeni present them to him had been a long hoped for, but still unexpected surprise. It had been no less of a surprise to Vila, his sister. However, the lecture on what was expected of a Commander in the Aeronite Expansion Force, was taken word for word from the military handbook. Well, most of it was. Villeni had added his own comments on the penalties of failure. He hadn’t mentioned names, but every junior officer was aware of Villeni’s denigration of the now nameless former Commander.

Even though Jordan had liked and respected Xan, the man had proved too soft for his position, and had failed his duty. He found it hard to feel sorry for him though, and relished the fact that Xan’s demotion had been to his own advantage.

With a last check in the mirror, Jordan left his cabin and strode to the Command bridge, unconsciously imitating Kellex’s manner. His first duty as Watch Commander was about to begin.

 

After familiarising himself with the latest reports from within the ship and from the deployed warriors, he went to sit in the Watch Commander’s chair. From that position, which was on a raised dais, Jordan could swivel around to observe any of the monitor screens. He could, as an alternative, channel the information from any of them to a screen next to his chair, or he could initiate communications from there.

He was tempted to do that and call Vila, just so he could share this exquisite moment with her. Then he let caution overrule the idea. Any action that he instigated from that control position, would be able to be scrutinised by Kellex. It would not be wise to do anything so frivolous on his first command duty. He mentally shrugged, and tried to keep the elated smile off his face.

For the first half of his shift, Jordan was scrupulous in checking all the monitoring positions at regular intervals, so should Kellex or Villeni arrive unexpectedly, he could report all the latest details immediately. However, his mind began to stray into idle thoughts of himself becoming a Warlord, like Kellex. He hadn’t enjoyed the fantasy for very long when the watch second reported that Kellex was returning.

That news gave him mixed feelings. The duty of Watch Commander had less authority when Kellex was on board the baseship. Then Jordan wondered why Kellex was returning already. The meetings between the Warlords usually lasted a full day.

Jordan replayed the message from Kellex at the Watch Commander’s console. His guardian’s tone had been terse, as always, but it didn’t give the sense of him being angry. He hoped that was the case. He had a classified report to give Kellex; one that he hoped would make the Warlord, extremely pleased.

From long experience with the man, from the time he was only their guardian, he and Vila had learnt that when Kellex was in a foul mood, it was a bad idea to remind him that they were Tymorean bastards. However, it would be an equally bad idea to withhold the information that he and Vila had accidentally discovered. They could say that they needed time to understand what they had learnt about the enigmatic devices all the Royal Tymoreans wore, but that would only placate him a little.

 

“Commander Jordan,” one of the watch officers summoned his attention, breaking his abstraction.

Jordan chose to walk to the man’s station, rather than bring the data up on the small screen near him.

It was the weather monitoring station, and whilst Jordan identified the storm front approaching from off the ocean, he listened to the meteorological details. It was going to be a furious storm.

“Send out a warning to all remote groups,” Jordan directed. “And warn all local stations.”

Immediately after the comm officer confirmed the dispatch of the messages, he reported Kellex’s return to the ship’s docking bay.

 

Grateful for the warning, Jordan kept an eye on the bridge access, and was ready to snap to attention, and salute, the instant Kellex strode in. He was moments ahead of the, “Warlord on the bridge,” warning from the watch officer nearest the access.

Kellex continued without pause, heading directly for the Watch Commander’s chair.

“Report!” he snapped, expecting Jordan to have followed him.

Used to such terse commands, Jordan was ready with the précis of the current situation, and the latest information from the ground troops. Kellex merely grunted, having taken in the information, even though his mind seemed to be on something other than his immediate surroundings.

After some minutes, while Jordan waited, and kept an eye on the activity on the bridge, Kellex seemed to come to a decision.

“Hand over to the watch second. I want you and Commander Vila to wait for me in my private lounge.”

“At once, Sir,” Jordan agreed, saluting correctly. He had a sudden feeling of excitement.

He made the delegation, and summoned his sister, all the time wondering what was up. Kellex wasn’t angry, like when he had heard of Xan’s perfidy. It was more like when he had something he craved, in his grasp. Had he captured the annoying offspring of the Tymorean King again?

No, it wasn’t that. Kellex had practically purred when he had had them before. Something else was up.

 

After waiting ten minutes without sign of their guardian, Vila spoke aloud, betraying her nervousness. “Have you any idea what he wants?”

Jordan shook his head. “No, but if he rushed back from the war council meeting, and told me to get off watch duty, he must have something important for us to do.”

“Should we tell him of our success with those transporter things?” Vila asked.

After a moment’s consideration, Jordan suggested. “Maybe not yet, unless the information is immediately relevant. We still don’t know their full capability or why you and I are the only ones able to make them work. He would want more information than we currently have. Or rather he’d want to use the things somehow.”

 

By the time Kellex strode into his private lounge, which was just off the bridge, Jordan and Vila were both jiggling with impatience. However, they both stopped pacing and came to attention, waiting in silence for Kellex to tell them what he wanted of them.

“Sit!” Kellex ordered impatiently, after he had reclined in his special chair. He glared at Jordan, who had grown to be his equal in height.

Neither Vila nor Jordan felt able to relax. They sat forward on their chairs, and prepared to listen intently.

“I have an important assignment for you,” Kellex went on with out preamble.

 

“Warlord Xezir has detected force manipulations at locus set 149-35-22 and locus set 305-22-07. He attributes these to the two children who are supposedly the High King Governor’s heirs. I know those two whelps are meant to be powerful, but they are still only children and I think they are using some crude mechanism to seem more important than they are. Their current activities are unacceptable as it will interfere with our plans to create a complimentary environment here. Those whelps may have been given a high rank but they are obviously totally undisciplined. We must bring them here and explain the proper facts to them.”

Neither Jordan nor Vila questioned Kellex’s statement.

“However,” Kellex went on. “There is another important task to be done before I send you to fetch the whelps. I want you to draw Governor Tymoros, the King, away from the Estate. The Governors hide there and have consistently refused to listen to out pleas for help. They have two whole continents with practically no population. I intend to give them one last chance to listen to us and if they refuse to let our people come here for refuge…war will be the only answer.”

Kellex saw the faces of his wards tighten with determination and he hid a smile. Still, he had to use impeccable logic with these two. They were highly intelligent and if they had a flaw, it was in their insistence to look at all sides of a situation. Well, it wasn’t normally a problem, but in this instance, he didn’t want them thinking kindly of the Tymoreans. He wanted them to keep thinking of High King Tymoros as an unprincipled monster.

His success at doing this was an exquisitely pleasant sensation, and Kellex knew he had to hide his satisfaction at corrupting these two of the king’s whelps. They thought they were some Tymorean noble’s cast off and abandoned bastards. They believed they owed everything to him for saving their lives. He turned his thoughts from the moment of introspection.

 

“Vila, I want you to take your command ship and check out those two locations. Determine if those meddling whelps are there. Zorrec’s Commander is still looking for them – if he gets them well and good. If not, we will fetch them later.”

Vila nodded, eyes bright with excitement. Kellex noticed this and smiled faintly with satisfaction.

“Jordan, I have assigned two full troops of foot warriors to you. I want you to go to one of the towns that we haven’t taken over yet, one where they won’t be expecting a stealth attack…”

He quickly explained what Axec’s troops had discovered. Jordan’s eyes widened in anticipation.

“Vila can join you there after checking for the brats.”

“So we infiltrate the city, bring the troops in and hide the in places our agents have arranged. Then we have the local petty lordlings contact the king on our behalf…Sir, are you sure they won’t know we are not the actual Prince and Princess?” Vila asked.

“Very few people have seen the real ones,” Kellex said as if he knew that for a fact. “All the people know is that they have brilliant red hair. Apart from that – those Royals are so inbred that they all look alike. You two were lucky to be half-common. You know what inbreeding leads to. I expect the king realised that too, since all of his own offspring died. I know that when these two so-called heirs first appeared, they had brown hair and looked and acted like commoners. No one had heard anything about them until they appeared at fifteen. I think the king fathered some bastards of his own or grabbed a couple nameless whelps from somewhere remote.”

Kellex saw Jordan’s knowing smirk and sensed that Vila was thinking of something else.

“Have you a concern, Commander Vila?”

“Not about the assignment, Sir,” Vila responded honestly. “You mentioned needing to educate the changelings. I cannot see the use in bothering with them if they are common born. The new baby isn’t and we can’t leave him there to be made into a barbaric despot. If we could rescue him, and teach him the right way, he would be a link to the leaders and the commoners would respect him.”

Kellex nodded approvingly, that idea had already occurred to him, but the baby would be too young to be useful for many years. He wasn’t going to tell his wards that he had another growing to fill that role.

“If you are willing to do more, I believe there is a way, it will be dangerous though.”

He had Vila’s undivided attention, as he revealed the rest of Axec’s discoveries.

“However, our first need is to talk to the High King Governor. If we can convince him to help us, the babe will be well enough for a time. If the king proves to be intractable, your suggestion becomes more important.”

Jordan felt compelled to ask, “How would we rescue the baby, if your trained infiltrators couldn’t.”

Kellex’s expression turned feral at the injudicious reminder of his failure, but he quickly realised that Jordan was truly intent on fulfilling his assignment.

“I do have an idea,” he admitted with an ill-concealed smirk. “Those Tymoreans think they are so clever. But those underground tunnels are the last way they will expect to find us. Wazim is going to build two bullet capsules for me. You can use these to travel the tunnels, and I am certain that you will arrive inside their defences.”

Jordan jiggled with excitement. “Sir, I really think that will work, and Vila and I should be the ones to go.”

Kellex eyed him sternly, tacitly inviting him to explain.

“Do you recall those odd devices, Sir? The ones all the high-ranking Tymoreans had? Vila and I finally figured out what they were. They are transporter devices. Vila and I have managed to make ourselves move, virtually instantaneously, from place to place across a large room.”

“Indeed,” Kellex said with a predatory look. “That is very useful. When did you manage this?”

“Just last evening, Sir. We were trying to see if anyone else could do it, but so far, we are the only ones.”

With his right hand massaging his chin, Kellex fired questions at his wards, but the little Jordan could tell him was frustrating.

“You are right, we can use that fortuitous skill. Vila, organise what you need to get that baby here. I want you both to go for him as soon as we have the King in our custody. He can be made to believe that his whelp is a hostage for his good sense, though we will know that we have no intention of harming him.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Vila said with genuine gratitude.

“Too bad the problem of the older ones isn’t as simple. If we bring them here, they will need some severe lessoning. And if they still prove troublesome…well, I will deal with them. Anyway, I will brief the teams, while you two requisition the equipment you will need. Vila, why don’t you requisition maps of the accursed Royal Estate, and the intelligence we have on the security system there. I really do believe, that with you in full stealth mode, and able to use those transmitters, that this will work.”

 

After meeting the transport ship bringing the troop of warriors and equipment, Commander Jordan led the scouts to the outskirts of a city, one that was well away from those currently under attack. He sent them to survey the perimeter of the force shield – five miles to either side of the direct line from one of the nearest deserted villages. He had chosen that settlement because it sat over what his initial probes had suggested was a tunnel.

While he waited for the scouts to return, he had some of the warriors unload the mechanical diggers, and others initiating contact with Kellex’s infiltrators in the city. He wanted an instant reply, but two hours elapsed before the first response came through.

Jordan had worn a path around his ship with his impatient pacing, but dived back into it when the reply signal came through.

“Identify,” Jordan snapped, imitating Kellex.

“Quenna, Sir. Senior scout,” a voice answered. “Am I glad to hear from you.”

Jordan recalled the man’s face. “Report. Have you found the shield controls?”

“Negative Sir, though your message suggested they would be in the council building. However that is so well guarded that a dogmite couldn’t get in.”

“How many people do you have in the city?” Jordan asked.

“Only five, Sir and we are well separated.”

The infiltrators were highly skilled warriors, Jordan knew, but were still only five against a city full of enemies. “Have you heard any reports from other cities?”

“No sir, not since they sealed the city perimeter, three weeks ago.”

Very tersely, Jordan described the findings in Basiq. The voice of the senior scout sounded excited when he answered. “There have to be other tunnels, Sir. I have spoken to many of the new refugees and they all said that they walked into a building in the village and walked out here.”

“Can you transmit a plan of the city to me, Quenna?” Jordan requested. “With any pertinent notations?”

“Yes, Sir, right away.”

 

Jordan sat in his pilots couch and studied the exceptionally detailed chart on his data padd. “What are the green shaded areas?” Jordan asked Quenna via the communicator.

“Gardens, Sir. When the riff raff arrived, the town council put them to work planting stuff in every available space – roof gardens, parks, playgrounds, and they are even putting hydroponic tanks in cellars and who knows where. Everyone from outside has to put in a shift of work each day or they don’t get a food chit. That is why I took so long to reply.”

“How are you managing?” Jordan asked.

He heard a faint chuckle. “I have been put in charge of a group of yokels, though since you asked, the five of us are all getting low on the food supplement pills. We have had to ration ourselves. I am starting to feel light headed, even though I am eating as much as all the natives.”

“You will have reinforcements soon. I have orders to duplicate the success in Basiq. I will need to have places to hide forty warriors. Can you arrange that?”

“Yes, Sir,” Quenna affirmed promptly.

“I also need the location of a private place where I can bring the warriors in through our own tunnel.”

There was another chuckle. “I have the perfect place, Sir. A big warehouse that has been half cleared to put in more hydroponics tanks. I will reassign my yokels there and ensure the building must be evacuated for a time. The five of us have been amusing ourselves preparing some annoying distractions all over the city. We can make a start in distracting the locals.”

Jordan controlled a chuckle of his own. “Well done, Quenna. I will ensure that Warlord Kellex hears of your resourcefulness.”

“Was there anything else, Sir?”

“Yes, I need a way for the warriors to get into the council building,” Jordan directed.

“To bring the shields down, Sir?”

“Perhaps, but not initially,” Jordan cautioned him. “I am waiting on reports from my scouts before finalising my plans. When will you be available for future contact?”

Quenna gave his ‘work’ schedule and Jordan ended the communication after telling the infiltrator to carry his small communicator.

While he was talking, the rest of the senior warriors were locating their current position on an aerial survey map and determining where the tunnel would emerge in the city. One put a finger on the data pad screen. “The council building has to be where the long distance tunnels come in. Wouldn’t it be easier to break into it and get into that building?”

“It would if the idea works,” Jordan agreed. “Give it a try with the digging equipment, but don’t be surprised if you can’t. The Tymoreans seem to have technology that has been kept well hidden until now.”

 

While her brother was preparing to take the city of Amik, Villa took her one-person flitter into a high-level orbit and flew to the first of the locations Kellex had given her. When she reached the point, which was in the far south of the main continent, she set her ship into a tight circle holding position.

Her instruments showed her the odd migration of all sorts of animals, and seeing the sight of huge carnivores striding amongst the tiny hopping creatures – she was amazed. It was a while before she sensed a feeling reminiscent of falling. Her mind snapped back into analytical mode. She had never suffered from vertigo before – so why was she doing so now?

“What the hell is that child playing with down there?” Vila spoke aloud as she focussed her scanners. Her instruments located and identified the protective screen her guardian had mentioned. They should have been able to get something – some blurry image – through it. However, no matter how she adjusted the settings, she couldn’t get anything. Perhaps she might if she went closer.

Vila took over from the autopilot and turned on her cloaking field. She descended in a wide spiral and then tried to land through the screen. Not surprisingly, she seemed to slide down the side of the quasi-solid protective field. Her next move was to land close by, on a rocky knoll that the animal flood was skirting. Again, she focussed her scanners and from ground level, she got a view into the forest – at least to the point where the trees blocked her vision. Well, that made sense – the animals needed to get in but she needed to go closer to examine the phenomenon and try to locate the Tymorean working there.

At the push on a switch, the hatch of the flitter opened and Vila climbed out, almost having an avian fly into her face. It hit the clear plastic of the canopy instead. She jumped at the unexpected encounter and cursed the small-brained bird. Of course it hadn’t seen the ship, it was cloaked, but it wasn’t incorporeal. With distaste, she flicked the stunned bird off her ship’s nose where it had fallen and quickly finished climbing out. She thought it wise to close the canopy before she went down to the ground.

Once there, she took bearings on features around her to be able to relocate her ship, and double-checked that her personal protective screen was on. Then, being careful not to step on any of the oblivious hopping and scurrying rodents, she walked towards the forest verge.

The vertigo like feeling hadn’t left her, only now it seemed to be pulling her forward. She followed the feeling until trees surrounded her, and that gave her a different kind of shiver. The trees were so tall – what if they fell on her? She hadn’t been so close to trees before – could only ever remember living on Kellex’s great ship. The few times she had visited Aerdna, outside had had tall buildings that wouldn’t fall down.

Despite the need to find the source of the attraction force, Vila turned to return to her ship. Perhaps when the weird migration finished, she could return. Kellex wouldn’t be satisfied, but this forest area was vast and she couldn’t be expected to search it by herself. She would tell Kellex that and report that the power being manipulated was intense.

 

A loud growl made her freeze into immobility, and then turn very slowly. Not three feet from her, looking directly at her, was one of the enormous predatory felines. Instinctively, she looked at her arm – since she couldn’t see herself, the creature couldn’t either. Could it smell her? She edged silently sideways, just as she thought she was outsmarting it, the big head moved and the nostrils twitched.

Vila stopped again, slowly crouching down to grab one of the stream of hoppers and tossed her catch into the face of the feline. It roared in irritation and moved in her direction. Self-preservation kicked in and Vila ran, no longer caring if she stepped on any of the creatures. The roar came again, but it wasn’t so close. When she risked a glance over her shoulder, she saw the creature take a pace or two more in her direction and then turn back towards the forest.

In her relief, Vila missed seeing the low row rock outcrop and tripped over. Animals ran around her, subtly deflected by her protective screen. Feeling like three kinds of fool, she picked herself up, limped back to her ship and dragged herself back into the cockpit.

There, she berated herself for being freaked by trees, but repeated her rationalisation for not searching. It was true that some power was being used to draw the creatures, but once they were inside the forest, they just milled around and gradually dispersed in all directions. Then she tried to rationalise her reaction to the feline. Shock, she decided. It was better not to test the effectiveness of the force screen by letting the creature attack.

Vila forcefully reactivated her ship’s engine and punched the next coordinates into the nav computer. She would go and check another of the forest areas – for a comparison - to see if it was still permeable to entry at ground level.

Deep in her mind, Vila was trying not to think of how peaceful that forest had felt, or how it made her feel as if she wanted to stay there and forget all her troubles.

“It is a trick! A filthy mind trick,” Vila told herself. “This whole stinking planet and no one cares about us. Some arrogant noble tossed us out to die – just as they will let every single Aeronite die. They have a responsibility to help us. Aeronites were once Tymorean. Aeronites cared enough to take Jordan and me in. Pyr too – poor little kid. Fancy throwing him out – a mere infant. I don’t suppose, since they care so little for their offspring, that we can expect them to care anything for people on a distant world.

“Personally, I don’t care if every single Tymorean dies,” Vila stated to herself, with the conviction of twenty years of Aeronite indoctrination. “And if I am lucky enough to meet the bastard who sired me, I’ll kill him.”

With that thought, Vila launched her ship to go to another of the protected forests. Two hours later, she landed again on a stretch of open rocky ground and scanned the immediate area. The odd creature still headed for the forest, but not the river of fur and feathers that she had seen at the first place. At ground level, the forest was still visible. Vila repeated her foray on foot, keeping a wary eye out for the large felines and watching her footing on the uneven ground. She only saw small creatures.

After a time, she noticed the lack of the strong drawing in feeling and the tight muscles of her gut relaxed. As she approached the forest, she still sensed that treacherous peaceful feeling. This time she ignored it as she began to follow a dusty trail into the forest. She took two steps, but on the third, her foot kicked something solid and totally invisible. She leant forward to look down, and slammed her head into the invisible barrier.

Vila swore creatively in the Aeronite dialect and finally concluded, “Damn, they have sealed this forest.”

Then she saw that some more hoppers were approaching, they passed her and kept going through the barrier. That gave things a completely new dimension. The damn shield could tell she wasn’t Tymorean.

She retreated, deep in thought, and finally decided to check out the other location which was somewhere on the third largest continent. The flight there would give her time to think things over and to figure out how to phrase her report to her guardian. He would draw his own conclusions, but he would also want to hear hers.

She and Jordan had an advantage when reporting to Kellex; he wasn’t as likely to take his anger out on them as severely as he had to some other commanders.

She shivered thinking about what he had ordered for Xan. He had ordered Villeni to whip him and leave him for the scavenging animals to find. Though, if what she had heard whispered was true, he had been found by Tymoreans, recognised as an alien and taken to be questioned. Which, Vila had been told repeatedly, was a polite term for being tortured.

Kellex hadn’t seemed too concerned. He seemed to think that Xan would die from the torture, claiming that the Tymoreans did things to prisoners that he himself wou