Selena
Vexing the Beast, Part 3
V. Joseph Guy
Front Cover: oryenpendragon@fiverr.com 2020
Remaining Covers: rachelbostwick @fiverr.com 2019
Drawing of Pathfinder: ianpandaleke @ fiverr.com
Editor: jessieellen87@gmail.com 2018/2019
Author may be contacted at josephguy141@yahoo.com
E:042520
© 2020 V. Joseph Guy
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 9798624721364
Independently Published
Pathfinder
Contents
1: Kroes
2: Projects
3: Exposure
4: Substrate
5: Memories
6: Catricel
7: Representation
8: Retreat
9: ASPs
10: Rescue
11: Chats
12: Sisters
13: Contact
14: Healing
15: Impressions
16: Delivery
17: Fatigue
18: Strategies
19: Stellar Clipper
20: Solutions
21: Admiration
22: Burdens
23: Mantis
24: Shadows
25: Sweet Dreams
26: Valuables
27: Contracts
28: Fulfilled
29: Sniper
30: One Evening
31: Cutting Deep
32: Errands
33: Bazaar
34: Depth
35: Beach
36: Pursuit
37: Exit
38: Changes
39: Missions
40: Transition
41: Diffuse
42: Imperium
43: Success
44: Valley Wraiths
45: Protector
46: Hope
47: Reunion
48: Family Matters
49: Fatigue
50: New Deals
51: Awakening
52: Pinpoint
53: Friends and Family
54: Extinguished
55: Sisters
56: Directive
57: Reunion
58: Influence
59: Focus
60: Elusive
61: Persistence
62: Ambush
63: Home
64: Imp’d
65: Loose Ends
66: Detained
67: War’s End
68: Closing
69: Epilogue
Appendices
1: Kroes
Day 663: Pathfinder, Evaline
A stubborn winter brought heavy, overcast skies and persistent rain to Evaline’s Porter Field. A morning drop of three degrees transformed the precipitation into an obscuring, white powder that fell in gentle, white waves. The first layers of snow melted on contact; successive layers persisted, brightening a dismal morning from below.
Malik watched from the shelter from Pathfinder’s ramp, fondly remembering the play of Lallis and Drelas months before. Evelyn stepped through the hatch and joined him.
“It’s a quiet ship. All the guys are in town taking needed leave, Liola and Navin have gone home, Serena has been set up in another hotel, and only our new guest remains.
“What are you thinking?” she asked, sitting beside him to share his body heat. The breeze was gentle, but the cold’s wetness made it particularly effective. She tightly hugged herself.
“Of better times.” He followed the course of a land transport and momentarily concentrated.
She glanced at the sodden morning and made a huff. “Can it get any better than this? I don’t think so.”
He grinned. “Well, you’re here; I don’t suppose it’s possible.”
Evelyn chuckled and leaned against him. “How about some details?”
“Playing in the snow,” he replied, gazing outward. “Sitting at The Belle’s Curve and watching soccer from a corner table. Playing Empire against Selena. Liola is good, but no one could match that woman. Her perception of the future made playing against her a true contest, and every aspect of my strategy was challenged.”
“Do you suppose we’ll find her?”
He shrugged. “The possibility is small but does exist. I have a plan for moving forward that will require considerable time, effort, and personnel. I’ll present my ideas when everyone returns.”
“We should recall everyone now,” said Evelyn, scrutinizing two nearby vehicles with the same intensity. “I don’t like being grounded. Too many bad things happen when we’re grounded. The commandos know of Selena’s plight and are eager to liberate her, James and Navin would rather be tinkering with your high-quality equipment, and Liola would do anything for you. Let me rephrase that—she’s already done extreme things.”
Malik thought fondly of the woman. “She’s returning in a few days, but Navin is staying. His return was the only reason her mom spoke to her.”
The falling flakes lent a sense of laziness to the moment, and Evelyn let her thoughts linger on them. “My mom was rarely sober enough for me to know who she may have been. Considering her generally angry mindset, I’m guessing she would’ve been equally abusive otherwise.”
He let her words linger. “You turned out all right.”
Evelyn made a snort. “No thanks to my parents. Except I was needed for additional government money, I might have simply been aborted; that cost money.”
She turned to watch a fuel truck approach the opposite vessel.
A nearby ship activated its engines. Exhaust ducts blew accumulated snow to temporarily obscure their view, and three personal craft stopped before it in the sudden blizzard.
Evelyn tensed.
Malik offered them momentary attention then scanned the area for additional vehicles. “It was your parent’s loss.”
Two families were exiting the hovercraft when Malik diverted his attention toward the terminal. He concentrated for a moment, scowled, then rose to his feet. “We’re getting visitors—official ones. Helen needs to know.”
Evelyn rose along with him. “How official?”
“Central Security.”
Her eyes widened in alarm. “Have they come for her?”
“Unknown.” He entered the forward passage, his eyes flashing. “They’re certain to leave empty handed.”
Evelyn left to quickly gather her gear. Malik went to the bridge and found the CSA agent who tried to kill Evelyn and James above Catricel. She had chosen a name, Helen, after her mind’s control programming had been stripped.
“Two highly customized hovercraft,” she said. “Six occupants.”
“Five commandos and a female. Did you typically travel with that many?”
She shook her head. “I generally worked solo. This woman is someone of higher rank.”
Malik nodded. “Most assuredly.”
A pair of heavy-duty, dark-windowed, black-painted Monitor hovercraft arrived at Pathfinder in the morning shadows. No notification of their arrival had been given, and no acknowledgement of their presence was returned.
“What do you think?” he asked, gazing beyond the ports.
Helen frowned. “The craft are armored, boast impressive electronics suites, and contain defensive weaponry within their spacious frames. Have they scanned us?”
“They’ve tried.”
She considered the vehicles. “They let their arrival be seen. The woman may be less than hostile.”
“Arrest, perhaps?”
Hellen shrugged. “Maybe, but there are no support vehicles for our extraction. This could be a mystery to get our attention and make us worry.”
“Are you worried?” asked Malik
The young woman had initially been restrained
on board. After having the mission objectives removed and her loyalty designators zeroed, she was offered freedom to move about. She quickly chose a name. The commandos had been designed and built as perfect male specimens, and she had been similarly constructed, being a good height to avoid garnering too much attention, strong but lean, and beautiful just shy of the exquisite. The beguiling and beautiful trigger of war between Greece and Troy had been her muse, and she was wary of being stripped of the identity of the three months.
“They shouldn’t know of my presence,” said Helen.
“Commandos are not known for acknowledging boundaries. We could hide you?”
Helen knew precisely their nature and paused. Her visage of calm broke.
“Evelyn is in the infirmary,” said Malik. “She’ll place you in a stasis chamber, or you could hide outside camouflaged.”
“In this weather?”
“Pathfinder has a ventral hatch,” he replied, one end of his lips rising. “There’s no need to get soaked. Still, you should decide quickly. I sense they will act soon.”
Helen furrowed her brow, scanned the console, then hurried out. Malik watched in concern as she left. The commandos had embraced their freedom with a vigor that matched their physical capacity, yet the agent was fearful for perhaps the first time in her short existence. She could kill a man in over twenty different ways and was confident enough to face down a half dozen more, yet freedom was a difficult concept to fathom.
Uncertainty was always a hurdle. For once in his life, Malik had found another person who shared his existential crisis. Although he concealed his struggle, the shared lies of their natures left them both pondering their paths. Slavery meant that any determination on his part was pointless. Helen, at the least, could build a future.
His sense told him of the outsiders’ actions before the surveillance monitors. He departed the bridge and waited for the CSA officer and two commandos to approach. A commando remained inside a vehicle to monitor the situation while two others stood waiting in the snow.
The entry chime sounded. Once Malik was certain Helen was set into concealment, he opened the front hatch to see the woman who oversaw the removal of bodies after their conflict at Asile with Norris.
“You knew we were here,” she said, her lips narrowing.
“Yes, Admiral. Or is it commander, now?”
“Captain and both, actually. I rose in stature, dropped in rank, and yet the name remains unchanged. Service rank quirks. Call me Captain Kroes.”
“Very well, Captain. Since you knocked, can I assume that you have something other than hostile intentions?”
Her words were compulsory. He ushered them inside and into the simulator, where a conference room awaited. A commando stayed by the chamber entrance while another one took position behind her.
“This is cold. It’s cold outside,” she said acidly, taking a seat.
The environment shifted by Malik’s mental command: the barren walls stretched to the horizon to reveal sunshine, white sands, and gently crashing waves. The conference room table became a small bench under a leafy, thatched roof that rustled under the influence of a steady, salty breeze.
Her icy demeanor thawed with the rise in temperature, and she rose in awe to appreciate the change. “Now this…this is marvelous! Hearing about it does absolutely no justice to its perfection. I can smell the sea, I can hear the gulls, and the warmth is perfect. If you were to build one for me, I might actually forget why I’m here.”
Malik shrugged. “Then tell me your specifications and limitations. Work could begin immediately.”
She hesitated, her easy expression fell, and she scowled. “That’s not why I’m here.”
“One could only hope. It would have been my first positive interaction with the agency.”
Kroes made a long, measuring appraisal of him. “This is business.”
“The deal with Norris was supposed to be business. You saw firsthand the results of that.”
Her expression transitioned from insult to defense, anger, interest, and then acknowledgement, prodding an unvoiced series of replies to progress through her mind. She took a deep breath to compose herself. “It’s actually several jobs.”
“Why me?” asked Malik. “I’m fairly certain that Central Security has a nice fleet of approved, commercial vessels and captains. For your less-publicized activities, you have more discriminating transport. I’m watched everywhere.”
“Except where you aren’t,” said Kroes, “which is why I’m here. You have the knack of being places when you’re supposed to be elsewhere. I need someone with those skills who isn’t affiliated with Central Security.”
Malik shook his head. “Even if what you said concerning me was possible, you’re here quite visibly. Surveillance drones, media copters, and transports surround us.”
She laughed. “As an officer in the CSA, I can know anything. After our meeting at Asile, I determined to know everything about you.”
“Why?”
“Norris had powerful friends and carried enough influence to preserve himself against any accusations. I expect you know this quite well. When he disappeared, many taut lines of influence broke and recoiled. I alone knew the cause. I worked through Central Security corruption and made certain to remove his stain, advancing in seniority and excising those who lacked interest in justice.”
“Then I’m to do something because you appreciate me?”
Kroes shook her head and smirked. “You defied my organization from the outside, while I did it from the inside. The most connected of his associates remarkably ended up dead, and a most powerful, criminal collective was broken. Yes, I’m thankful, because you’re the one who broke them.”
He frowned. “That would be impossible. If you knew everything about me, you knew exactly where I was at all times.”
“Yes. Exactly where you weren’t.”
Malik said nothing.
“You could hide from everyone but me. I was entranced. Under extensive questioning, a number of pirate captains revealed Pathfinder miss-dropped in an unregistered system connected by an unmarked channel to Dakota. Let’s call it Dakota-Alpha. Then you reappeared three months later.”
She paused and grinned. “Do you realize how terrified they were of you? None of them had previously told a soul, and only under duress did they tell us. They even tried to make deals to keep us quiet, but that didn’t match your feat at Evaline.”
“Curing people with Tack overdoses?”
Kroes made a snort. “Don’t be insulting. A planet of Dynang bosses died nearly overnight. Except for a number of talking non-rehabilitated ex-cons, your efforts might have gone unknown. You eviscerated the entire criminal collective on Evaline when you weren’t even supposed to be on planet.”
Malik glanced calculatingly at the commando.
She noted the look. “I’m not the only one who knows, but most of those who do are appreciative enough to remain quiet unless directed otherwise. Now, let me continue.
“You killed people without supposedly being near them, which means you actually were. This would only be possible if your ship made it to Evaline several days early, which it impossibly did. Whatever survival techniques you used after Dakota to stay alive were employed before Evaline. You fast traveled between systems and must have constructed a double to make it appear otherwise.”
“That’s serious conjecture,” he said. “The simplest answer is usually the most probable.”
“Unless the facts dispute it. I learned that Norris was knowledgeable of the criminal collective, and that it took him considerable effort to unravel their matrix.” She leaned forward. “You found that knowledge, and within a short span of time following his abduction, most of those people were dead. Many of them were people of influence. You did it, I know it, and I can tell anyone of your crew’s involvement.”
Malik was stone still. “You just los
t all hope of gaining my assistance.”
Kroes’s easygoing demeanor hardened to match. “Considering how much you appreciate your shipmates, I’d say I ensured it.”
“The only thing ensured was your death.” His flanks turned a steel-gray. “Lawyers are the biggest sticklers for the law, yet the ones I hired quite legally abandoned me. All that was necessary to cancel an understanding was an agreement of all legal parties, and I was not among them. The Dynang were equally predisposed to breaking agreements, Britton broke a deal and chose to seek retribution when I obligated his cooperation, and a high-ranking CSA officer brokered an exchange for the sole purpose of killing me. You’ve just made a significant threat, for which I am certain you’ve assigned assets to execute. Whether I agree or otherwise, I can reasonably assume from your clandestine past that my crew’s lives are forfeit. Thus, if a sniffle or drunk driver causes any of them to die, I would consider you responsible, hunt you down, and kill you. I rather intend to be proactive, and your presence here makes it easy. You made this threat, revealed your antagonism, and unless it’s immediately rescinded, you’ll die within two minutes.”
2: Projects
Day 663: John Milton
Baron Hess slid a report to the side and rubbed his tired eyes. Another glance at the report left him shaking his head in dismay.
“We can do this tomorrow,” said a man from the monitor to his left. “We’ve only just begun the damage assessments.”
“Let’s do this now,” replied Hess, silencing a groan. The managers to the left were at a Tania facility in the early morning hours, while the managers to the right were at Leilen and were experiencing deep evening hours. Coordination across the Confederation was often tricky.
“How extensive was the collapse?” he asked. “Does the entire unit need to be razed?”
The Tania manager grimaced. “We’re uncertain. Rubble conceals most of the foundation.”
“Along with the cooling shrouds,” said Hess. “What about units two and three?”
“Surface damage. It’s probably cosmetic.”
“Possibly,” said Hess, considering the worst. “Shut down two and give it a thorough inspection. I expect the internal damage to be nontrivial. Kalan, increase production twenty-five percent. Palm will ensure you have the phase one parts. There are large contracts we can ill afford to lose.”