Chapter 27: Forbidden Forrest

Lamax system was only 61 lightyears distant to Faysummit system. Meaning the superfast Colt reached Faysummit only 136 minutes.

Roy was getting more anxious by the moment. The closer he got the more he felt convinced that his mother was close and that she was in great peril.

The Colt was brand-new and by law, it was his ship. The Phantasian who piloted the ride was an employee or more precise a contractor.

Tanya was right, this passenger cabin was not big enough for Partner, but then this Colt was a customized high-speed version of the already famously fast ship and stripped to the bare minimum in passenger comfort to increase fuel load capacity.

He sat in the first seat row right behind the tiny operations deck.

“Can we go any faster?”

“I am running it at redline already, Mister. Your brand-new ship will need new engines if I nudge it any higher. Not that there is much room on the speed slider for that.”

“Do it. Max her.”

“It’s your ride and I warned you. That will be a big repair job and most likely mean new engines. Since this ship is basically a hull with oversized engines, Attikans no less, that be a million-credit job for each pod.”

Roy for a moment hesitated, that was more than both his parents and their colleagues at the institute made annually and together, but in his hurry, he had not registered the amount Tanya forked over. Now his inner eyes remembered seeing the amount of 14 million credits she swiped from her credit strip into the receiver of the ship dealer. To the pilot he said. “Never mind repairs.”

It didn’t take much time and they were hailed by System control. “Sorry Citizens, the Faysummit is currently closed for all traffic. You may redirect to Lamax, the closest port and wait for system clear. You may also fill out the requested pre-check form for Phantas while you are there.”

The Pilot said.” I transmitted the CITI data from my passenger and me. I am Phantasian and my passenger has first-degree family ties.”

“We have no authority to deny you access to your home but be warned war-related activity takes place as we speak, threat level unknown.”

The Pilot turned. “Did you hear that, Mister? War-related activity. This ride isn’t armed.”

“Is it shielded?”

“With the best shields, a craft of this size can carry.”

“Then get us to Phantas as fast as possible. Call Phantas Port to make sure they let us land.”

“I think we should turn around. This is a serious warning.”

“You turn around and I will break your neck.”

The pilot grunted insulted, but the size of Roy’s hands and the TKU now pulled made him swallow any further comments and approached Phantas.

Phantas Port gave them landing permission without any hitch or personal interaction, by extending a guide beam.

The Colt sank below the surface moments later and underwent a rather intensive decon process, nothing new or noteworthy to a Greenie where Connection shuttles underwent a similar process, but nothing like this happened on other spaceports he had experienced since he left home.

The miffed pilot said. “Been here before?”

“Yes, I think two times, while I was really little, I can’t really recall either visit to my Grandparents. I think I was one or maybe two years old.”

The pilot pointed out the super-heated pressure steam cleaning. “It’s to make sure we don’t drag in the ‘you know what’ from the atmosphere.”

“The ‘you know what’?”

Just then the decontamination process was complete and two dark blue-uniformed officers and four S-22 Security robots appeared outside...

“I somehow knew you were trouble.” The pilot said. “Well, I won’t be bullied or intimidated anymore.” With this, he opened the side ramp. “Go get him, Officers, whoever he might be.”

“The officers were all Phantasians in Union Border Control – Port authority uniforms.

The lead officer made a stiff motion with his arm. “Mr. Masters we were informed that you are on your way to Phantas, your family ties have been confirmed and you may move freely on our world. That is under normal conditions. We are under lockdown as we speak.”

“And?”

“It means we are forced to restrict your movements until the very unclear situation has been under control.”

Roy became loud. “I crossed half the Galaxy to find my mother who crash-landed on this freak ball. She is Phantasian, she is on this world somewhere and there are Kermac after her. You try to restrict anything, and I show you how pissed a Greenie can get.”

The officer responded. “Your grandparents are currently somewhere in the Andromeda galaxy and your mother is listed as missing, possibly dead.”

The second officer held up his PDD. “However, Professor Aaron Berezovsky is present, he is the young man’s great grandfather. He wishes to meet Mr. Masters.”

That seemed to impress the officer and he made a clouded face. “I see, the Berezovsky household is expecting you and lists you as an authorized resident.

We let you go, Mr. Masters but restrict your movements to the city.”

Roy slowly unclenched his fists, gave the other officer a thankful look and lied.” Yes, Officer, I will sit in the residence and wait for news.”

“That’s all then. You are cleared for entry.”

Past the security barriers, the concourse was not as busy as any of such places he had seen so far. While there were the usual businesses and shops. The same gleaming floors and the islands of vegetation and trees that appeared to be a common theme in facilities like this, yet there weren’t many beings about. Roy noticed there were no non-humanoids about.

He consulted his Wrist-Com for the address of his grandparent’s place and after checking with an Info-Bot, found the Bubble-Taxi stand.

Abraxas was a nice city, with large but not overly tall buildings, wide throughways, lots of water features and parks. Roy, however, had no mind for the scenery. His anxiety grew, he simply knew his mother was close and she was in deep trouble.

Moments later he arrived at a cliff-hugging modern villa. The robot voice of the Taxi informed him that this was indeed the residence of the Berezovsky residence.

Roy wondered about his great grandfather, he didn’t even know he had one, but he did remember his mother speaking about him. And if memory served him right, the man was 139 years old.

The old man waited for him right there at the entrance to the villa.

His great grandfather was a tall lean man, immaculately dressed in something elegant, dignified and perhaps a little old fashioned. The angular face clearly showed kinship to his mother.

Roy was greeted after he received a taxing gaze. “So, you are Roy, Martha’s boy?”

“Yes, Sir. I really want to get to know you, but Mother has crash-landed into the Forbidden forests of Phantas. I need to find her.”

The man gestured him to come inside. “Everyone heard about two unidentified ships. One of them is suspected to be a Kermac warship full of their best warriors. The planet and all cities are on the highest alert.”

Both had reached the luxurious lobby. Roy said with urgency. “Sir, she sent me psionic dreams, now that I am here, I can feel she is pursued by those Kermac. The police won’t let me search for her.”

The old man touched his perfectly groomed salt and pepper beard. “It is the Forbidden Forests for a reason, Son. The local police will do their best, till professional help arrives.” His Great Grandfather slowly nodded. “I can sense your thought. I believe you. The Jungles are very dangerous.”

“Sir, I am a Greenie.”

“Oh yes, I heard. My beloved wife Georgia passed on, neither my son Moses, not Martha ever bothered to call or visit, but no matter what. Family comes first.”

“Sir, time is of the essence, please.”

“Roy, we are on the northern hemisphere on the First Continent, if you are correct and I don’t doubt you, Martha is on the Sixth Continent on the southern hemisphere. 7000 miles from here. There are no transport connections. I understand the urgency and I am working on a solution.”

The old man pointed to a seat. “I will call a few people and see if we can get you an exemption and a ride.”

“Alright, Sir. Thank you.”

“There is a serve-Matic integrated into that seat group. Why don’t you have a drink or a snack, while I contact the planet council? I have some influence here.”

Roy nodded. “Alright, Sir.”

The old man left the room.

Roy felt as if he was sitting on a nest of Dragon Ants. Part of him simply wanted to run outside, steal a skimmer or something, but this ancient old man who turned out to be family. He was stiff as a Trapper Palm showed no real emotions.

He had crossed half the galaxy, was chased by agents of alien origin and now he was here, separated by a measly 7000 miles. Roy was about to get up and see if the Old Geezer had skimmer or something, his Wrist-Com chirped and half a second later, he stared in Tanya’s face. She smiled at him. “Partner and I managed to buy a DeNoir Le-Mans, but we are stuck just outside the Heliopause marker, they won’t let any civilian traffic in right now.”

Roy had just begun to tell her about his troubles when he heard a bang of forcefully pushed air-molecules, Partner appeared out of thin air.

The one they called Eternal Warrior, could not find anything wrong with his new orders, but his guts told him that there was more to it and that it had to do with his recent address to the Assembly.

The USS Devastator and the Alpha Red Battlegroup of First Fleet had been ordered on a special mission. It was highly unusual to separate a Battlegroup from its cluster and its fleet. Usually, the assignment and the objective were given and revealed to the Commanding officer of a fleet and it was that Commandants decision which Battlegroup Clusters and how many ships to assign to accomplish the mission.

It was even more unusual to combine ships from different number fleets into a task force with very obscure orders and mission envelope.

While Union politics and the Assembly elevated him to take on the tasks and responsibilities of Commander in Chief, much to the thinly veiled disagreement of Fleet Command, specifically the Admiral of the Fleet. The Assembly was still discussing what aspects to be added or assigned to other offices and positions.

Of course, Stahl could have taken a much more active role in all this, even in Fleet Command matters. He never made a big deal out of it, but he was a realist. He knew of his popularity and if he wanted he could declare himself emperor and change the Union into an Empire, much of the fleet, all marines and a good number of high profile leaders would follow him, but that was impossible even to consider. He was picked to serve the Union and that is what he would do till he died, whenever that might be.

However, his lack of interest in political and administrative paths never elevated him into the inner circle of Fleet Command, the tip of the pyramid with Admiral McElligott on the top. While Stahl was among the most popular celebrities when it came to established rules and the proper chain of command, he was just the commandant of a Number Fleet, a high ranking Five Star General, but there were others with this rank. There was only one Six star, Admiral of the Fleet.

Over the thousands of years, a working relationship emerged. McElligott would build the fleet, manage the fleet and do all those important administrative things that made an organization of this size run smoothly.

When it came to battle, combat or war, this was Stahl’s territory.

No one, and certainly not Stahl questioned the herculean labor performed by McElligott. In all history there wasn’t anything comparable to the Union Fleet. It was the largest organization of any kind. Billions upon billions of beings serving, bases, outposts, ships, logistics. Yet it all operated smoothly and with the precision of a Swiss wristwatch. Every Starman got his or her compensation at exactly the right date. From the request of an environmental officer for a can of Stick-N-Seal to the procurement of new battleships. The decommissioning of old units and every detail in between. What looked so simple on a requisition form was multiplied the factor of several million times every moment of the day. Every personnel transfer request, promotion, demotion, discharge every report. No this was not him and this was the reason he never wanted McElligott’s job. He was a warrior, a fighter and a leader. He found solace and satisfaction dropping onto an enemy-infested planet, joining first wave, something no Admiral should ever do. He felt more at home, raising a glass of beer with the men than in a conference room full of high-ranking officers.

But he didn’t like McElligott. Power corrupted, he knew that only too well. He was fighting the temptations diligently ever since he left that cave underneath the Himalayas. Stahl clung to rigid military forms and adhered to the law to make sure he would not succumb ad become a tyrant. With McElligott, he was not so certain, the power o being an immortal and the head of the fleet might have corrupted the Old Highlander a long time ago. That old submarine commander of Earth’s distant pre-Astro past always was a politician and a turncoat, turning with the flow and never against it, and always making sure his position was not affected.

The Devi led a task force of the most advanced and latest battleships on a path towards Coreward and a vast region of space east od Klack space that had not been explored.

Before him in a sealed order form, the destination. A moist garden world, supposedly the home of a yet to be openly contacted species.

While he had the benefit of having the Tri of Science and Alegar the First among the Saresii aboard and they had shared their knowledge about a secretive group of xenomorphs and he had a strong feeling the Narth Supreme was keeping a close eye on things, neither of them knew where to find these aliens. Then suddenly and within hours after his address to the Assembly he received these classified marching orders from the Admiral of the Fleet no less, to a very specific location in a region of space, no Union ship officially ventured so far.

But as long as he had no evidence, the Eternal Warrior would execute orders given as diligent as a first-year cadet.

Someone used the Com signal to ask for admission and pulled him out of his brooding thoughts.

The handsome dark-haired human establishing his avatar was a typical Terran perhaps of Hispanic origin. While such national distinctions were not noticed in a society where no one saw a difference between Sarans, Saresii and Terran humans. But Stahl himself was from Earth and had been born before the ascent, he noticed of course. The young man wearing a customized Condor class flight suit in the so typical fashion of a Wolfcraft pilot, meaning there was little left of any regulations regarding the proper wear and display of a Condor suit.

This was Lt. Commander Aaron Duarte, also known by his call sign, Hellhound. Filled to the toe tips with that special unexplainable vigor only real Terrans seemed to have. For Terrans, there was no star too far, no mountain too high and no enemy too big or too scary.

This good-looking bane of female personnel, deeply respected Admiral Stahl but was very little intimidated. “Admiral, Sir you wanted to see me the moment I came back. Well, Sir here I am.”

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