***
Kalin sat in the captain’s chair on the main level of the bridge, where twenty crewmembers monitored the ship using holos at their assigned stations. Before him was the giant viewing screen and to his left was the main console, where Marante and Tolba were carefully manipulating their holos.
“Captain, the Arliss is less than twenty clicks away,” said Tolba.
“Stop all engines and hail Vurro. I’ll take it in the Overview.”
“Aye, sir.”
As Kalin walked across the bridge, he could feel Marante’s gaze on him. He was careful not to reveal any thoughts or emotions; Marante’s empathic abilities were powerful.
At the far side of the bridge, two silver-colored sliding doors opened and he entered an oval, beige room where several revolving holo pictures of his family rotated on the walls. He sat on the black cushion behind the desk. Off to the side and slowly spinning on a thin beam of yellow light was a rare blue Credite stone, the hardest ore known to man. Twenty years ago, it had plowed through Salera’s planetary shield and gouged a hole in an orbiting platform. His father had tossed him the stone and told him his head was harder than Credite.
He tapped the desk and eight pastel orbs rose up. He waved his hand over the blue one and a holo appeared, displaying a dark oblong vessel motionless in space. The holo flickered and the upper half of a Setrellan-human appeared.
Vurro was a lizard-like creature with massive muscles and blue skin pebbled with thousands of white heads. He enjoyed flaunting his abrasive appearance and consequently exposed as much skin as possible. Today he was wearing only two, wide brown leather straps crisscrossed over his tightly packed torso.
This pimple needs popping, thought Kalin.
Several times, he remembered with a smile, he’d punched Vurro’s elongated snout, knocking out a few teeth. Unfortunately, they always grew back. Why the Federation picked such a wart to be Captain of the Galactic Guard was one of the true mysteries of the universe.
“Vurro, it’s good to see you,” he lied.
“I’m happy not to say the same,” replied Vurro in his grating voice.
Kalin grinned. “How’s your jaw? Did your new wife divorce you yet?”
Vurro growled like an animal and dug his hefty four-inch claws into the armrests of his seat. Strings of saliva dangled from his quivering lips, a sure sign he was pissed. His glowing yellow eyes squeezed into bright slits and his blue skin began to darken. Kalin’s grin widened.
“I haven’t forgotten your insolence,” said Vurro. “The Rajan prison was filthy and because of you I’ve been banned from their airspace. This mission is mine, Saleran. I’ve been given it because you are weak.”
Kalin slyly waved his hand over the pale green orb. “Let’s lay this out. Vorkis is the most powerful criminal in the galaxy. You and I both know if you confront him, you won’t survive. His Xevniors could fry you in a heartbeat. You have some good people on your ship. If you value their lives, you’ll leave now and let me handle this.”
Vurro let out a deep, raspy laugh. “Give up, Saleran. You should have died with your people.”
Kalin’s smile left his face. How many times he wished it had happened! If not for Marante’s empathic abilities pulling him back from the brink of suicide, it might have. Vurro had not one ounce of compassion. Kalin longed to punch that snout again.
With strict control of his emotions, his tone remained the same. “Has your relationship with the Rajans improved any?”
Vurro eyed him strangely. “They’re little specks of dung.”
Kalin nodded, cautiously waving his hand over the same orb again. “Well, Vurro, I hope you enjoy the ride. Try not to let the little specks hurt you too much. Good-bye.”
A holo rose up from the green orb displaying the Arliss. Kalin watched a cloud of twinkling blue dust burst from the Quasar and zoom towards the other ship.
“What are you doing—shields up!” yelled Vurro.
Instantly, the blue particles surrounded the vessel. Vurro’s glowing yellow eyes widened to saucer size. Kalin couldn’t help a wicked smile. Static filled the holo, overcoming Vurro’s obscenities. With a booming suction sound and a flash of light, the Arliss was gone.
Marante came running into the room. “How could you?” he said, his red nose now the size of a golf ball.
Kalin adjusted himself in his seat. “Don’t worry, they’re okay. He’ll be in Rajan space soon. Their chances of surviving Vorkis were close to nothing.”
“He was on a Federation mission,” Marante said firmly. “You will be court-martialed and imprisoned.”
“I said no one was going to stop me. Especially not him.”
“Do you not understand?” demanded Marante. “You will have destroyed the peace your people have worked so hard to achieve. Your race was a beacon in this galaxy, a tribute to humankind. In doing this you desecrate everything Salera represented. You have become an uncontrollable storm that may finalize Salera’s destruction.”
After a pause, Kalin said, “I’m not killing Salera. She did that herself. Because of her trust, a vicious criminal was allowed access to her inner secrets and created the most lethal biological weapon in history. Anyway, it’s done. Vurro is out of the way.”
He tapped a pink orb. Ignoring Marante’s obvious disapproval, Kalin read the Federation message scrolling in the holo. After a moment, he looked up.
“Vorkis used REMs to form a planet tunnel and created an elaborate complex,” he said. “Can you imagine Pril in the hands of a psychopathic killer?”
“Not a good thought,” Marante said reluctantly. “Do you think he is capable of breaking through Salera’s planet shield?”
“Yes, but he’ll need time and he won’t have that with me alive. Before I left Salera, I had a cranial implant of all the new technology. During the download, I discovered he stole the plans to make a Borit Reactor. Apparently, he did this while the virus was killing everyone. He must have had inside help.”
“What is a Borit Reactor?”
“It’s a machine about the size of this desk and with only three ounces of Pril, it can annihilate a planet.”
Marante’s black eyes opened wide. “What are you saying?”
Kalin clasped his hands together on the desk and fixed his gaze on Marante. “With me out of the way, who would be able to stop him from taking over the Federation? When he escaped, I changed the Quaren attributes of Salera’s planet shield, but he’d eventually find a way through. Add together Salera’s science, unlimited amounts of Pril, the most evil man in history, and you have the end of peace as we know it.”
Marante’s nose turned white with worry. “I hope you are wrong.”
Kalin sat back. “I hope I am too. But I don’t think so.”
“All the more reason you should leave this assignment to someone else,” said Marante. “We need you alive to defend Salera.”
Kalin banged his fist on the desk. “When are you going to get it? Vorkis dies by my hand and no one else’s! This is something I have to do.”
Marante folded his arms across his chest. “Now you listen to me, you stubborn jackass. Aside from the enormous strength you both possess, Vorkis is a Master of Uru. He has no conscience. I have calculated there is a seventy-five percent chance he will kill you. This is unacceptable.”
“Unacceptable or not, I’m the only one who can withstand his attacks. Including the Uru.”
Marante stood and slammed his hands on the desk, hovering in front of Kalin. “Really? And how will you fight him when your head is sitting on the floor beside you? Uru fighters are vicious and inhuman. Their aim is to maim and mutilate. The trauma has sapped your strength, my friend; you have weakened considerably. You are not your former self.”
Kalin pushed himself out of the chair, grabbed the Credite stone and squeezed. The stone began to crack and splinter, chunks falling to the table.
“Just because I look sickly doesn’t mean I don’t have strength.”
Marante’s mouth dropped open as he slowly straightened up. Kalin glanced down at the holo, trying to ignore the excruciating pain in his hand.
“Earth is experiencing atmospheric and geological turmoil. The end has begun. We’ll need to set up Deltrons. Twelve of them should stabilize the core.”
Marante sat down to study the holo. Kalin sensed his apprehension.
“Do you honestly think Vurro’s first task would be to save the Earth-humans?” he asked. “They’re primitives. His main mission is to capture Vorkis. If Earth blows up, so be it. He has no compassion.”
“I suppose you are right,” Marante said finally. His long arm easily stretched across the desk and tapped the green orb. A list of data appeared in the risen holo. “There is something else you must know. Rumor has it Vorkis may have a child.”
Kalin held his breath, shocked by the words. “What? How? Who told you that?”
“First Science Officer Gildrad from the Arliss,” answered Marante. “It is probably a lie, said to deceive us.”
“Well, it can’t be right,” said Kalin, “and I’m not going to concern myself with idiocy. What’s our ETA to the Stargas Sector?”
“Eighty-six hours, Captain,” replied Marante. “At Warp 12, we will reach Earth two months into their future. Approximately ten hours will remain until implosion after we arrive. Not a long time I might add. What are your orders?”
Kalin walked around the desk and sat on its edge, facing Marante. “I want all families off the ship. Ask for volunteers and inform them the Federation is going to come after me full force. There’ll be no turning back so they must be certain of their decision.”
Marante nodded and rose out of his chair. Halfway to the door, he paused. “Perhaps your life-mate awaits you on Earth.”
“I doubt it,” Kalin said. “Besides, I’m not interested in a life-mate. I just want Vorkis.”
“Still selfish. How sad.”
Kalin watched Marante leave through the sliding doors, wondering if that had been a joke. Was he letting vengeance get the best of him? Could he live a somewhat normal life if he didn’t pursue Vorkis? Then Disa’s violent death flashed through his mind. There was no choice.
Marante’s voice blasted in his head. By the way, shall I inform Bobbi, or should I say Robert, of our arrival on his planet? I am sure he will be anxious to see you.
Kalin nearly fell off the edge of the desk. You scared the piss out of me! he answered in his mind. I hate when you do that without some kind of warning. If you so much as whisper to that guy, I swear, they’ll never find your body.
The sound of Marante’s laughter faded away and he settled back down on the desk. He picked up a piece of the Credite and moved it between his fingers, feeling its hard surface and admiring the shiny brilliance of the blue stone. The Federation was like Credite, beautiful on the outside but deadly in its determination. Would they salvage every ounce of Pril and possibly put the planet in jeopardy? If so, would they safely relocate its people to another world? Or would they let them all perish, saying a rogue asteroid destroyed the planet? Their laws of segregation suggested the asteroid story was more likely. He sighed, feeling the heavy sadness of guilt because only one thing was certain; nothing would get in the way of his killing Vorkis.
Not even Earth.