Archives of the Frontier Universe: An Assassin's Assignment (20 page)

“Byruhme! Don’t do that!” he cursed, staring at the seductive woman.

Sitting in Meyer’s recently vacant chair, Roszephnye leaned back comfortably, with her heels up on his desk. “Looking for this?” she asked sassily, holding the memory spike.

The captain took several hurried breaths. “Yes!” he huffed. “I thought someone stole it!”

Rose laughed, watching the man calm after panicking. “You’re certainly on edge, aren’t you?” She turned slightly in his rotating chair.

“Yes, I am,” he replied. “That Norvanull would have me dead if we lost the device. Why . . . Why would you scare me like that?!”

“Oh, come now, Captain. There needs to be a little room for fun.” She then smiled suggestively. “We don’t have time for anything else, you know.” She laughed. “Furthermore, do you have any idea how many times you startled me by just shouting into the comm. these past two days? I believe I’ve had three separate heart attacks.”

“I’m sorry,” said the man. “But I didn’t do any of that intentionally. A lot of stuff has been going on lately, and there wasn’t time to waste.” He then looked at her expectantly. “I see you made it back alright—and sooner than expected.”

Rose removed her feet from his desk and sat properly in the chair. “Yes, I was able to find a transport closer to the installation than I thought. Also, since you’ve already completed the data transfer for me, half of the work is already done.” She held the memory spike up triumphantly.

“So, it
is
done?” he asked. “That’s actually what I came back to check on.”

“Yes. I just checked its contents. There’s a whole wealth of information regarding Dailunavein. This should please Boss R. Now all that’s left to do is delete it off of the spike itself, along with a few other entries for good measure.” She gazed back critically. “You know, we wouldn’t want them to think the device was damaged in our custody—not with that Norvanull killing underperformers. So, I think we need to present it in pristine condition. We’ll let them deal with Hiellta for ‘compromising’ the important information.”

Meyer nodded. “Sounds like a logical plan. I had the system transfer all the necessary intel to another memory stick.” He looked back to the terminal. “Did you . . .”

“Yes, I’ve got it already.” Rose reached into her pocket and pulled out the other device. “Here it is. After I return to hand off the codes . . .” She paused, feeling the sharp pain of the wound in her side. “Ah!” she groaned. “Well, first, I’ll need some quick medical attention. The wounds aren’t life-threatening, so they should heal completely on the trip to Dailunavein.”

Meyer gave a sort of crooked and embarrassed smile. “Yeah, I was going to say, she got you a
few
times.” He was staring coyly at the cuts on her face. “I guess at least you’ll look convincing.”

Rose chuckled. “That’s the plan. But anyways, the wounds should heal on the flight over—during which time I’ll send the intel to Boss R. He’ll want to have it as soon as possible, no doubt. But it’s too risky to send it from here.”

The captain nodded. “Should I go ahead and put him through then?”

Rose stood from the chair. “Yes, we better get on with this.”

Meyer walked back over to the conference display and placed the call. A few moments went by, but finally the transmission connected. Burning to life, the Forcurrian fire display whipped and steadied, displaying a fuzzy depiction of Boss R.

“Sir,” welcomed Meyer at once with a bow. “We’ve got excellent news!” He motioned with his eyes to Rose. “As you can see, Posteritor Byruhme has returned from the mission . . . successful, I might add.”

Her master turned his hooded face to her. “Good. Give me the report, Rose.”

She stepped forward, closer to them both. “I’m assuming you want the short version,” she began, waiting for the answer. He held a posture of acquiescence. “Well, the short version is I engaged Hiellta Silatine as requested. Unfortunately, I was unable to take her by surprise and was forced to fight her. Over the course of that, Captain Meyer was able to steal the codes from her device . . . um, being that I was close enough with a device of my own.”

“So, you’ve confirmed their authenticity then?” the fire man asked. “You were able to access the spike?”

“Affirmative,” she replied. “We’ve already downloaded the intel concerning Dailunavein as you ordered. All that’s left to do is provide Command with the codes and spike.”

Her master held a calculating gaze for a moment. And then he nodded, appearing genuinely pleased for the first time. “Very good work!” he praised. Rose and Meyer both smiled professionally. “Now, what of the councilor?”

Sapping her joy, the question, which she could not provide a positive answer to, nearly scraped her ears. She gave a conflicted expression. “Yes, I regret to announce that she escaped.” She stared on, waiting for words of criticism.

Her master paused for one painful moment. He then suddenly held his hands up. “Well, there should be other opportunities,” he concluded. Rose sighed as silently as she could. “The important thing is we got what we needed. Also, it’s not likely that she’ll expose you to the Court. Doing so could jeopardize her own reputation—if your attempt on her life is linked to the traitors.”

Rose exchanged a look of agreement with Captain Meyer, and then faced her master again. “Yes, that’s exactly what
we
thought. She actually fled because the Court authorities were closing in. I feel that the only reason she’d do that is because of the risk of imprisonment herself. The best she could say is she saw some sort of forager or something and chased them off.”

At this, Meyer gave a look of disagreement. “What?” he laughed. “They caused all that damage and it was just some forager?”

Rose shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know, she’ll have to come up with something. But if they knew I was an assassin, that would raise eyebrows, so she’ll have to keep that quiet.”

Her master suddenly held up a hand. “We’ll let
her
deal with satisfying the Court. Now . . . I need you to access a certain file on that memory spike.”

They both looked at him, sort of perplexed. “Um . . . absolutely, sir,” replied Meyer. He motioned for Rose to hand him the device, and she passed it over. He then connected it to the terminal again. “Which file would that be?”

“I need one related to the Norvanulls and anything known about their origins.”

Still configuring the device, Meyer paused for a spell and looked up. “Origins?” he asked. “Would . . . even the Eiltheen archives have information on that?”

“That is my assumption, Captain. Now, run the search.”

Meyer nodded and spent the next moment searching for the relevant information. Finally, he seemed to target a portion specifically. “Here’s something!” he announced. “It’s a file that concerns an apparent world of theirs and . . . how this relates to another world called Teraveildon . . .” He paused, scanning the intel. “There’s, uh, too much to report on at this moment, though . . .”

“That’ll do, Captain. Transmit that intel and everything related to it to me at once.”

Both Meyer and Rose looked to her master quickly. “Sir, is that a good idea? The Court could intercept the transmission. We still haven’t been able to establish a—”

“I’m aware of the risks, Captain; but this can’t wait. Transmit the intel immediately.”

For one more moment, Meyer hesitated. But then he nodded and began the transmission. In the time it took for the intel to be forwarded, Rose stood silently, waiting on Meyer to report an interception. Luckily, though, no such warning came up. He terminated the session with Boss R’s database the minute the transmission completed. “There,” he concluded. “That’s everything. And there was no indication of interception . . .” He continued monitoring his terminal, probably double-checking the security.

“I wouldn’t concern myself with interception, Captain,” said her master abruptly. “With so many other lines of communication to monitor, they’re not going to waste time with a simple data transmission. Thanks to Rose,” he sort of faced her, “they’ve got representatives to protect and investigations to run.”

Rose smiled complacently. “Indeed,” she hummed.

“Well, if there’s nothing else, sir,” pressed Meyer, “we need to complete the mission . . . officially. With that Norvanull now running Command, there’s no telling when he’ll make contact again . . . or if I’ll survive his call at all . . .” He trailed off almost comically, the irony nearly overwhelming Rose.

She smiled, feeling guilty. “Yes, I . . . agree,” she sort of breathed, not wanting to consider his very ‘accurate’ concern.

“Very well,” replied her master. “I’ll need time to review the information you sent. After you provide the code and the spike is accessed, proceed to inform Command. They’ll send someone to retrieve the device or possibly order you to access files for authentication. Either way, cooperate. They’re not going to find what they’re looking for now, so it doesn’t matter.”

Rose nodded. “Good. Afterwards, I’m needing to see medical personnel. Unless you want immediate confirmation of the mission’s completion, I’ll be there for a few hours. After that, I should be ready to begin the next assignment.”

“Alright. I’ll make contact again later on. Unless something significant comes up, go ahead and tend to your own matters for now. Both of you.” They bowed. “Again, excellent work!” he praised. Then he disappeared.

Meyer stood there for a second, just staring aimlessly at the man’s former display. Undoubtedly, he was still worried that the Norvanull would kill him. There was still no telling how he or any of them at Command would react to digging up junk.

Rose put out a hand to him. “Hey, are you alright?” she asked gently.

He sort of winced and turned to face her. “Yeah, I . . . Just worried—‘wondering’” he falsely corrected, “what they’ll do if they don’t find what they want in the spike.”

Rose smiled as convincingly as she could. “Nothing to us, I’m sure,” she replied, exaggerating her confidence. “We did good work. All they’ll know is Hiellta either deceived them,” she winked suggestively, “or the intel they sought never existed in the first place.”

Meyer shook his head agreeably. “Yeah!” he huffed. “I guess we’ll see anyways . . .” He then motioned to the window, which Rose had broken in through. “You should go. Let’s get this over with. Either way, I’ll be happy to tell Command that you’ve returned, and the mission was a success. They should be content with that for at least a few hours.” He laughed, and she smiled.

“Alright,” she said, “see you in like one minute.” She laughed, opened the window, and jumped through.

Captain Meyer eagerly returned to his command center once Posteritor Byruhme snuck back out. Acting at first flustered with the Eiltheen memory spike (which he had brought along to hand off once again), he then brightened everyone’s mood by informing them the codes had been recovered. His team of cryptographers took the spike at once, connecting it again to their systems and prepping it for analysis. However, as a precaution, Meyer had locked the device again, so they were forced to wait for the codes themselves.

“We should be able to break into it at once, when the codes arrive,” insisted the group leader. “We’ll ready our systems to scan for sensitive material first. However, Command has not given us a specific subject as of yet.”

“Very good,” replied Meyer. “You should start with anything related to our next target: Dailunavein. Colonel . . .” He dragged the title, trying not to remember the man’s murder. “Colonel Lonng mentioned that Fontaine would want any exploitable intel regarding the system.” He smiled weakly. “Personally, I’d be ecstatic to offer Fontaine anything helpful in his invasion of the world. It’d be far better than providing nothing . . .” He smiled again, hiding his fear of Furnocter’s reaction to finding nothing important in the device.

The group leader nodded affirmatively. “Oh, yes, sir! That’s what we all intend to do.”

“Very good,” repeated Meyer. “So, I’m assuming that Command has yet to make contact since I left? They didn’t speak to me when I sent them the device descriptions they asked for.”

“No, sir,” replied a woman at another station. Meyer looked over to her, and the lead cryptographer excused himself. “We’ve been exchanging communications intel with them as normal, but they’ve yet to make specific contact like before.”

Meyer took a small breath, pleased at the warlord’s unexpected patience. He lifted his eyebrows in a thankful manner. “Well, then, let’s hope that we’ve gained complete access to the spike before they start asking. We are actually very fortunate. Posteritor Byruhme has performed just sensationally since her arrival. Even improvising to improve upon the failure of others . . .” Everyone nodded, and he was sure they knew he meant to reference Kyte’s installation. “She was the perfect agent for the job, and if her previous work is anything to go by, we should expect her back very soon . . .” He drew a breath to continue, but was interrupted.

“You certainly are a good judge of abilities, Captain!” sounded the very woman in question. Meyer turned quickly to the side, spotting the seductive agent round the corner and enter. Playing her part magnificently, she was still wearing her heals, glasses, and a long-sleeved shirt and skirt combo (all of which had seen better days and appeared thoroughly convincing). She was holding her side as she walked in, the dark circular stain under her hand. “Though I guess I’ve arrived even sooner than
you
expected.” Though noticeably hurt, she marched in proud as ever.

“Well, aren’t you just incredible!” he praised, smiling. “Shattering expectation every step of the way.” He waved his hands in an exaggerated welcoming gesture. “Come in! Come in!” She walked over. “We’ve spent
way
too much time fighting this thing. Luckily, Command has yet to request an update.” He then paused, looking her over. “Right, first things first; you
are
well enough to accompany us while we access it, correct?”

She gave a sassy smile of confirmation only she could have produced. “Now, what sort of question is that? I practically wrestle the most powerful traitor for this device, and you think I can’t last to input a simple code?” She cocked her head in feigned astonishment and pulled out her glass slate. “Perhaps your judgment is flawed after all . . .”

Meyer chuckle lightly and walked with her over to the device and his team. “I’m just making sure. We wouldn’t want our best agent getting anemic on us now . . .” He stared at the wound she was still holding. Then he quickly faced one of his assistants. “Tell the medical teams to prepare to treat her. I’m taking her down there as soon as we have confirmation of the codes’ authenticity.”

“Yes, sir!” affirmed the woman.

“One step at a time, Captain,” insisted Rose. She reached the memory spike, and Meyer watched her navigate through the floating menus her slate projected. “Here we are.” She looked up. “Is the spike ready?”

“Yes, ma’am,” answered the head cryptographer. He faced one of his subordinates. “Bring up the interface on the main screen,” he ordered. In the seat ahead of them, a woman configured the view of the spike’s coded security access. “Ready when you are,” the man then confirmed.

Standing confidently at her side, Meyer observed Rose as she transmitted the codes he had hacked from Hiellta. The system took a few seconds to implement . . . and then it blinked in verification. The security was bypassed, and the device unlocked!

“That’s it!” cheered the head cryptographer. “The intel is ours!” Several others from around the room offered cheers of their own and gracious words.

However, though he needed to still appear just as thrilled as them, Meyer held up a calming hand quickly. “Yes, yes, great work everyone; but we need to verify everything.” He looked to his nearby team. “Begin searching for the necessary intel. I want to speak to Command within the hour and would like to have as much positive news as possible.”

“Yes, sir,” said several of the team.

“Good.” He turned for Byruhme, who was acting as pleased with herself as anyone could have guessed. “Well, I suppose you’re the real hero of the day. Come on. Let’s get you down to medical. We should be able to treat your wounds entirely before you return to base . . . And you deserve about fifty glasses of Champaign.”

“Indeed,” she agreed happily. “And some dessert would be nice.” She spoke so convincingly that Meyer let out a genuine laugh.

“Ha! Anything you want!” He took one of her arms and helped her to medical.

***

A couple of hours had passed, and Rose was now laying in one of the medical beds. Her wounds had all been treated, stitched, and wrapped, and by the skills of the medics themselves, she was fast on the mend. Only perhaps another hour separated her from her next mission, which she would depart for as soon as her master reestablished contact. With Meyer gone to speak with Command, and the medics out of the room for the moment, she took to playing a simple game on her glass slate.

Rose The Treasure Hunter was navigating the twisty slopes of some extreme location of a polar region. Controlled by the real Rose, the virtual woman leapt across a seemingly bottomless chasm. She landed on the other side, barely an inch from the ledge. Then came the next, even longer jump. After scouting the length of the cliff-side, she got a running start, reached the edge, and—

Something plopped down right next to Rose in her bed, startling her. She jerked her arms in shock, noticing her master’s bird had returned yet again. On her device, the treasure hunter her was tumbling to a most painful death.

Rose fixed her ignited eyes upon the disturbance. “Why you little . . .” she raged. Altogether fed up with the familiar, she seized a superfluous crutch next to her bed, lifted it to swing . . . but the bird jumped up at once and conjured its red mist. Perplexed, Rose calmed herself and lowered the crutch. Usually, the bird would wait for her to give it the go ahead. This time, the message seemed important enough to forgo such respects (one of the only remaining she thought she could count on actually).

Her master appeared in the energy cloud even faster than he had before. “Rose. Good. We must . . .” he began, his dark eyes scanning her. He then paused abruptly, probably stunned that she was lying down. “Why are you in bed?” He turned his head to the crutch still in her hand. “You weren’t injured again, were you?”

Rose sighed and set the crutch down. “No . . .” she dragged. “Just getting some medical attention before departing. I can walk and everything. I was just about to swat this bothersome fly in my room. I have no idea why they even brought me crutches.”

“Good. You’ll need to be leaving right after we speak,” he continued energetically. “Is Meyer there? I just told him to meet with you for your next orders.”

“Yes, I’m here!” answered the captain, as he jogged into the room. “Sorry, Command wanted one last report.” He slowed his pace, shut the door securely, and positioned himself next to Rose, facing her master now. “Go ahead, sir.”

Boss R nodded. “Right. I’ve spent the last few hours analyzing the intel you sent. And I’ve made some disturbing discoveries regarding our ‘allies.’”

Rose terminated her game session and set her device down. “What sort of discoveries? You mean about the Norvanulls, correct?”

“Exactly,” confirmed the man. “I’ll start from the beginning, but we don’t have much time, so I need you leaving right afterwards. We’ll speak again once you’ve reached Dailunavein. Anyways, according to the intel, the Norvanulls are a species that have been stripped of life. They used to live on Teraveildon—a name apparently used to reference the Frontier Universe. However, something happened to their world.”

Feeling an acute chill shoot up her spine, Rose sat up off her pillows and intensified her concentration. “What?!” she nearly gasped. “Stripped of life? What do you mean?” At least according to Furnocter’s actions earlier, it would seem that the extraterrestrial race was very alive and well.

Meyer must have thought the same exact thing for he took a step forth, motioning for her master’s attention. “Yes, that’s what I’d like to know. Sir . . .” he pressed sheepishly. “I was there when Furnocter . . . relieved Colonel Lonng. He didn’t seem to have any issues . . .
living
,” he put.

Her master held up a declarative hand. “Understand that I already know how this sounds. Crazy, if we put it bluntly,” he admitted. “But the archives stuck to this description. They were clear with the specific words used, but not exactly in the message. Obviously, the Norvanulls are not ‘dead’ or not all the way. But the archives tell of a sort of ‘dying’ that occurred.”

Riveted, Rose sat up even more, now sitting at a perfect right angle. “Okay, you really
are
going to have to start from the beginning. I’m totally interested now.”

Meyer nodded. “As am I.”

Boss R nodded, and they listened.

“Alright, but it’ll have to be the short version as always, and also keep in mind that this is a translation of a very old version of the Eiltheen language. This process has no doubt strained the message, but I’ll continue . . .” He took a fatigued breath. “From what I’ve deciphered, they lived in the Frontier Universe, along with most of the galaxy’s ancestors. Their land was in a remote region, and they had limited contact with the other realms there. However—and remember, I’m piecing fragments of intel together that had to be translated from an ancient language—But anyways, apparently, their world went to war with the king of the lands . . . or emperor perhaps, it’s not exactly clear.” Rose leaned toward her master’s image, altogether enthralled. “But during the course of the war, some . . . ‘artifact’ of possibly a religious or ceremonial significance was . . . destroyed. I’m guessing the Norvanulls were trying to prevent the emperor from obtaining it or were using it against him. Again, it’s not clear. It is clear, though, that it was destroyed . . . and for some reason, this in turn destroyed their world . . . or land—excuse my lack of a permanent description; the archives kept interchanging some words. But they were perfectly clear that this event . . . ‘damaged,’ I guess is a good word . . . their life. Their lives. And it’s a good bet it made them what they are today . . .” He trailed off, sounding rather disturbed (an extraordinarily rare emotion coming from him).

Rose sat there and stared for a long while, frightened, but unsure why exactly. They had known about the Norvanulls’ return to the galaxy for a long time now. Time enough, in fact, that the outright fear of their mention had calmed considerably. Thinking it through, she decided it must have been her master’s fear that inspired her own.

Meyer seemed to have elected the path of doubt, however. He sort of shook his head and lifted his hands vaguely. “Hold on, sir,” he contested. “I’m not sure I’m hearing this right. You’re telling us that they’re dead, despite the fact they’re . . . out and about, and their species dates back to the Frontier Universe—which has not even been proven to have existed?” He sighed rather audibly. “Forgive me.” He bowed slightly. “I mean no disrespect, but this sounds like a bit of a fairy tale. Perhaps it’s what was ‘thought’ to have happened. Or maybe the Eiltheen account was corrupted by replications over the years. It just sounds farfetched.”

“Don’t make the mistake of believing I don’t question its accuracy myself, Captain!” returned her master sternly. “I’ve spent hours now to only decipher a few scant lines. But the legends of their species even before they returned sounded like a tall tale. Yet nearly everything we thought we knew before was either backed by Fontaine or was at least very close to the truth. And as far as I’ve seen, the archives—these entries, at least,” he specified. “were recorded around the time of the ‘so-called’ fall of the Frontier Universe. It isn’t likely that they’ve been altered much since.”

Uninterested in questioning the legitimacy of the intel, Rose interrupted. “Right, so anyways,
how
exactly are they dead. I think we can all agree that they are not
completely
dead.” She nodded at them both in succession. “However, we can also all agree that they . . . or something about them
seems
dead. And I think that that’s what the archives are referring to.”