THE VROL TRILOGY (6 page)

After taking a quick shower in the ship
and changing his clothing, he went outside and was finally able to
relax in the near silence. He leaned up against a fallen log and
enjoyed the crackling fire while he looked up at millions of stars.
As Earth no longer had any artificially created light, there was
little reflection off the atmosphere, making for a near-perfect,
unobstructed view of the sky as he sat close to the edge of the
natural canopy. He found the stars to be beautiful, and squinted
his eyes, trying to pinpoint the location of Azul, which, although
in a binary system would be a singular point of light in a vast
field of hot plasma balls held together by intense magnetic fields.
 However, he couldn't see any indication of his home
world.

The computer showed no signs of
emerging ships or even large life forms, so he pulled the bottle of
Glenfiddich out of his backpack and admired it. He broke the seal
and dropped a probe into the bottle, just to make sure that there
was nothing in it that would make him ill. This bottle had a scent,
and it was definitely Scotch whisky. As he brought the bottle to
his lips he hesitated momentarily, wondering if he should attempt
to drink any of the amber substance.

Chemical analysis says that
this is whisky
;
so, it should be fine… I hope.

However, before he could pour some of
the amber liquid into his mouth, he heard a deep and slightly
accented voice next to his location.

"I am certain that your whisky is quite
fine for consumption! It was bottled some time before the invasion,
my boy."

Max almost dropped the bottle out of
surprise and sheer terror. Jump-rolling over the fallen log that
had provided his back rest, he un-holstered his side arm and
trained it on the intruder, staying where he was, practically
paralyzed, looking wide-eyed at a leather-clad, smiling older man
who was also enjoying the campfire.

"Hello my son!" the man exclaimed, with
no small amount of excitement. "I have been watching you with great
interest."

He took out a slender, wooden pipe and
lit it, looking at Max with a kind grin and no fear
whatsoever.

Chapter 4 - Bagatelle on Watch

Rear Admiral Bagatelle had
odd dream as he slept. He was sitting with his grandfather in a
field of tall, yellow wheat, the grain gently wavering in the wind.
His elder, speaking from afar, told his him (as in his dream he
perceived himself as a youth; usually the case for anyone's
subconscious self-image) to open his mind, and to expect the
unexpected - the
path to
truth
. Raising his hand, the elder caused
the sky to transform from blue to a black canvas of brilliant stars
and gorgeous, multicolored nebulas or varying sizes and
configurations.

His grandfather (who had, in real life,
long since passed from the world of the living) then stood up, and
appeared to grow until he appeared as a giant who dissolved into
the night sky.

Bagatelle awoke to an alarm beeping
from his personal console, the dream fading into the depths of his
subconscious as his head cleared and he fully regained his senses.
The console readout determined that they were three standard days
from Sol System, but still had no way to determine Gunnarsson's
target vector.

Without any real knowledge of Earth's
existence, and without the ability to see where they going inside
side space, for all he knew they would find a field of planetary
debris in the place where the world of his ancestors once resided -
and that said a lot, as Earth's orbit around Sol was 94 million
kilometers - a huge distance to cover on fusion-ion propulsion,
with so little time to capture the fugitive, even if he was
anywhere in the vicinity of Sol.

He checked attack craft inventories and
concluded that all 100 Draeders were fueled, armed, charged and
nearly ready for departure on command. He wanted to bring a total
of 300 Draeders, but leadership denied his request, as this needed
to be a reconnaissance mission only - get Gunnarsson and get the
hell back home. Report any and all findings, and if possible, leave
some modified drone probes with side space radio capability they
had brought. Under no circumstances were they to engage any native
hostiles if indeed they existed. If there was still an advanced
civilization on Earth he was to leave behind no
technology.

Bagatelle put on his uniform and left
his quarters, taking the elevator down to the flight deck, where
all the pilots and techs kept themselves busy by preparing every
detail down to the minutiae. Due to the nature of the mission there
was an incredible buzz around the ship as this was the first ever
trip back to Earth and no one was sure about what would be found.
Some wondered if they would be able to see the cities where their
ancestors had lived in centuries long passed. One thing was certain
to all, as there were no secrets about the mission - they were
going to capture or kill a military scientist who stole Azul
technology and who also posed a serious threat to the
planet.

"Attention on deck!" screamed a command
as everyone present popped to attention. Bagatelle walked down a
pathway, waving off everyone with a mild "As you were," and headed
to the ops station where he found Lt. Ryder Johnson.

Johnson was an aggressive and
intelligent junior officer who had moved up the ranks in the
military faster than most and had disconcerting connections to the
political power structure on Azul. His father was one of the few
permanent members of the Security Council, which functioned in a
similar fashion to the Supreme Court of Earth's United States of
America.

"Lieutenant - I wish to have a full
status report on attack force readiness in two hours. Have it
delivered on a secure console to my quarters."

The handsome, angular-faced and
white-haired lieutenant gave Bagatelle a steely-eyed stare of
confidence.

"Aye-aye, Sir. Consider it
done."

Bagatelle didn't care much for Johnson,
partially due to the lieutenant's family political connections, but
also because the man always tried to out stare him. It was an
ancient pecking order game - he who looked away first was the
psychological subordinate, and Bagatelle didn't appreciate the
challenge.

He had already made a mental note to
keep a close eye on Johnson, especially when the attack craft were
in atmo, if indeed they found a planet at all. Johnson was to lead
a flight group - Deca Squadron, and Bagatelle needed to make sure
everything stayed on mission.

Bagatelle left the flight deck and went
up to the command bridge, where his second in command, Lt.
Commander Vasquez was overseeing preparations of navigational maps
to be added to the Draeders' computer systems. They wanted no
mistakes, nor any lost pilots under any circumstances. The ship
left with all hands, and they were to return with the same head
count, except perhaps with the addition of the decapitated head of
the fugitive traitor Maximilianus Gunnarsson.

He found it curious that someone with
such a promising future would throw it all away for a trip to prove
that his theories and engineering were correct. Had he desired, he
could have led the entire Military Scientific Complex in just a few
years.

Such a
waste
, he thought to himself.
There must be a deeper reason for what Gunnarsson
has done
.  But that was not his
concern. He had orders and was required to follow them.

As the massive juggernaut class craft
screamed closer to Earth's last known location, breaking all rules
of physics and scientific knowledge, preparations became more
intense. Bagatelle gained little sleep, choosing instead to go over
nav charts and reports in exhaustive fashion.

When close to their
destination, he called Lieutenant Jennifer Escalante to his
quarters for a private meeting.  Bagatelle knew everything
that went on inside his ship. He also had suspicions about Lt.
Johnson's reasons for being there It was common knowledge that
Johnson and Lt. Escalante spent a lot of time together in the mess
hall, and perhaps elsewhere. There was a lot to like about
Escalante - and women like her. Her descendants were of Earth's
South Americans, with their Mediterranean complexions, dark eyes
and hair, and full lips. Nearly every beauty queen on Azul
was
dega
, as they
were called.

"Lt. Escalante," began the commanding
officer, "could I speak with you about a… personal
matter?"

Escalante found this a bit out of
order, but it was not the first time Bagatelle asked about her
personal affairs. He had always taken an interest in her since she
was assigned to his command years prior. She assumed it was due to
her work ethic. Little did she realize there was a much deeper
meaning to his interest in her, but that was not the case at the
moment.

"Yes, of course Sir. You know I always
welcome your questions. Am I somehow disobeying regulations
or…?"

"No, Lieutenant," interrupting her so
he could get straight to the point, "I understand you've been
spending time with Lt. Ryder Johnson. While it's not against
regulations, I would like for you to confide in me if you find he
is participating in any unusual activities - and I don't mean
drinking the tequila he smuggled onboard. As your commanding
officer I also trust you will not share my concerns with
him."

Escalante looked at her commanding
officer's stern gaze and knew he meant business. She really liked
her time with Lt. Johnson, as he was handsome and well connected,
but her first allegiance was to the military - and specifically, to
Rear Admiral Bagatelle. Serving under someone's command for an
entire military career can help to build trust, and she intended to
always keep his.

"Sir, I will inform you if I notice
anything out of order. Is there anything of which I should be
aware?"

"Nothing that I can relay to you,
Lieutenant. I need to make sure that this mission goes off without
a hitch, and I've reasons to be alert at all times, as do you. We
can't let our personal relationships get in the way of duty, and as
you have been around him so much I felt it necessary to remind you
that anyone - including me - could do something to cause this
mission to fail. The Security Council was against returning to
Earth in the first place, but as Gunnarsson went rogue they had no
choice but to let us pursue."

"Yes sir, I understand completely, and
I will keep an eye on everyone, sir."

Lt. Escalante then stood at attention
and saluted her commanding officer. "Permission to be dismissed,
Sir."

Bagatelle nodded with a
warm gaze and put a hand on her shoulder. "Gracias, mijita. Tu
abuela habría estado muy orgullosa de vos
(Thank you, my child. Your grandmother would have been very
proud of you)
."

Then Bagatelle gave her a sharp return
salute, which was her cue to depart.

Jennie, I hope for all our
sake that I am wrong about this
, he
thought to himself as he prepared to go back to the command
bridge.

Jennie left Bagatelle's cabin and set
off for her quarters. She was going to meet with Ryder when his
shift was over, one hour later than hers, excited as she enjoyed
their time together. Sometimes she dreamed about marrying someone
like him, with a powerful, politically connected family, which
seemed much more romantic than her own childhood which was quite
sad and uneventful.

She was an orphan, adopted by an older
couple that fretted over her safety, and was hardly ever allowed to
do anything, including participation in school activities. They
forbade her from dating boys and even joining athletic teams, which
was a shame because she was naturally gifted at
football.

The military was her way out, so once
she graduated from the university she entered the military academy
- against the wishes of her adoptive parents.

She enjoyed Ryder's stories of his
vacations to all three of Azul System's moons, his ski trips on
Vera (the coldest of the three), and even the craziness that ensued
during spring breaks when in college. He had seen things she only
dreamed of.

If I could just marry
somebody like him…

First she needed to stop by her own
quarters, shower and fix herself up bit. Her duty shift was over,
so she could dress in a more relaxed fashion. Sexy civilian wear
was forbidden on military vessels, but for every rule there was a
way to break it.

In her cabin she pulled out
some tight-fighting khaki pants, made for working in spaces where
various machinery might snag loose clothing and possibly bring harm
to the worker. She complimented the pants with a rather
loose-fitting blue, button-down collar oxford shirt, leaving the
top three buttons undone, and tying the bottom of the shirt into a
knot above her waistline while showing enough cleavage to be almost
obscenely enticing. She easily got away with this, more so than
most of the other women on the ship, as she was - to quote her
roommate Becky -
stacked
. She finished the ensemble
with a duty cover, which resembled a baseball cap, putting it on
backwards. A bit of makeup freshening and she was ready for
dinner.