The Star Cross (16 page)

“Stay down,”
ordered Sergeant Jones, as he activated his comm gear to speak to the Marines
in the vehicle behind them. “Corporal Evans, what’s your status?”

“We’re outside
the vehicle, but we’re pinned down. A couple snipers are on the roof of the
tall building on the right side of the street. They’re out of range of our
pistols. I wish we had our assault rifles.”

“Just a
moment,” Jones said. He turned to the other Marine, who reached under his shirt
and pulled out the long barrel of a weapon. Jones rolled over the dead Marine
and removed several gun parts from his clothing as well. Looking at Kurt guiltily,
he took a few items from his uniform also. “I know we were told pistols only,
but I didn’t trust the situation down here. There are just too many guns.”

“Corporal Evans,
I’ll take out the snipers. When I do, get your butts over here to help cover
the admiral.” Jones quickly assembled the weapon and loaded a large diameter
clip into it, slamming it home.

“We’re ready,”
Evans answered back.

“I’ll stand to
take out the snipers,” said Jones, drawing in a deep breath, looking at the admiral
and the other Marine. “As soon as I do, we need to exit this vehicle. They
attacked us for some reason.” He looked at Kurt with concern. “They may be
after you, Admiral.”

“Get it done,”
Kurt ordered, wondering where the Enforcers were. They had to have heard all
the gunfire and explosions.

Jones took another
deep breath, and then suddenly rose up and fired two explosive shells at the
tall building just to the right of the turned-over vehicle. Several figures
with long-barreled weapons stood on top of it. The building was about ten
stories high, and two explosions, much more powerful than a grenade, suddenly rocked
its roof. Debris fell, hitting the street among the screaming people still
trying to find cover. A body made a loud thump as it hit the sidewalk from
where one of the snipers had been blown off the building.

“Got ’em!”
Jones said, as he searched for more targets. “At least I think I did.” He
looked down at the admiral. “Let’s go.” With that the sergeant pulled himself
out and slid off the vehicle. Kurt and the other Marine quickly followed.

“Over here, sir,”
yelled Corporal Evans.

Kurt turned
toward the voice and found the corporal, his two Marines, and their vehicle’s
driver standing behind a large truck. Kurt hurried over to the corporal,
pulling his pistol from its holster. He flipped off the safety and, glancing
down, quickly chambered a round.

“How many more
are there?” asked Sergeant Jones, as he assessed the situation.

“Not sure,” Evans
answered. He peered around the truck and then ducked back as several light blue
energy beams impacted the street near him.

“At least four
or five more,” he said breathlessly. “The two snipers on the roof were armed
with projectile weapons and the explosive rounds they used to immobilize your
vehicle. The rest are armed with some type of energy weapons.”

“Where are
those damn Enforcers?” muttered Private Dulcet. She was holding her pistol with
both hands, occasionally peeking around the corner of the truck for a target.

“Can your comm
unit reach the shuttle?” asked Kurt, realizing they were in a bad situation.
The pilot and two more Marines were still there.

“No,” answered
Jones, shaking his head. “Too many buildings, plus all the local comm channels
block our communications after a short distance. We’re on our own.”

Kurt was about
to say something else when a number of small canisters fell around them, and
gray smoke poured forth.

“Gas!”
screamed Private Dulcet, as she glanced at Sergeant Jones with a terror-stricken
look on her face and then collapsed.

Before Kurt
could say anything, he felt dizzy, and then blackness clamped down on his
senses.

-

Kurt opened
his eyes to the sound of strange voices. He lay on the sidewalk still behind
the large truck. His head was throbbing, and everything seemed to be spinning.

“Are you all right?”
a woman asked. She was wearing a brightly colored blouse and very tight pants.

“Just dizzy
and my head is pounding,” Kurt said, as he struggled to sit up. With his right hand,
he rubbed his forehead. “What happened?”

“The Enforcers
are still checking into that,” the woman said. “I’m Keera Jelk, and I work at
one of the medical centers here on Kubitz.”

“You look
human,” Kurt said, as he more closely studied the young woman. She seemed to be
in her late twenties with dark hair and a fair complexion.

“I am,” she
said with a laugh. “Approximately 44 percent of the humanoid races come from
the same genetic stock as you do. How that happened is open to speculation. Many
say some type of Supreme Being did it, and others claim a very advanced race in
the distant past seeded many worlds with the same or similar species. Many
others—such as the Enforcers, the Profiteers, and even the Dacroni—are closely
related.”

“What about
the Controllers?”

“Them too,”
admitted Keera with a grimace.

“How are the people
who were with me?”

“Fine,” Keera answered,
as she glanced where a few other medical personnel were treating the other
humans. “You were struck with some type of knockout gas. Probably V-14, which
is one of the more common ones used in hits.”

“Hits?”
mumbled Kurt, as he stood up and swayed slightly on his feet. “Are those very
common?” He was anxious to check on the rest of his people.

“In this part
of the city, yes,” replied Keera, her voice sounding aggravated. “Inside the
dome very seldom. You should have been traveling with a larger security force.
Out here, the Enforcers never seem to show up in time, at least not until
someone has died.”

Kurt could
hear Sergeant Jones’s voice, and he didn’t sound pleased.

The sergeant was
talking heatedly to one of the Lylan Enforcers, gesturing toward his Marines.
With an angry look on his face, he turned and walked over to Kurt. “Private Dulcet
is missing,” he announced grimly. “The Enforcers have found no signs of her or
of the snipers we blew off the building.”

“Who did the
snipers look like to you?”

“Dacroni mercenaries!”
stated Jones emphatically. “They were very muscular and had on dark gray battle
armor, just as Grantz described.”

“One of your
people is missing?” asked Keera with concern in her voice. She looked around
but saw no sign of the missing human.

“It looks that
way,” replied Kurt, growing concerned. How the hell was he going to find his
missing Marine on this planet? If she was still even on the planet.

“They may be
holding her for ransom,” suggested Keera, shifting her attention back to Kurt.
“If they are, they’ll be contacting you shortly to arrange for an exchange. It
happens pretty regularly here.”

“The driver of
the other vehicle has arranged for additional transportation,” reported
Sergeant Jones, his eyes looking nervously at the curious crowd that had
gathered.

“I have some
questions,” a large Lylan Enforcer said, walking up to Kurt. “That tall building
was damaged by explosives, which are illegal in the city, and the owner is
demanding payment.”

“It wasn’t
us,” answered Kurt, seeing that Sergeant Jones’s weapon was strangely absent.
“It must have been the people who attacked us.”

The Enforcer
took out a computer tablet and entered some information. “We found no bodies
are any signs of blood. If anyone was injured in this incident, they did a good
job of cleaning it up. From speaking to Sergeant Jones, he indicated that one
of your security people is missing. If you can provide a description, it will
be downloaded to the tablets of the other Enforcers, and, if she is spotted,
you will be notified.”

Kurt nodded;
he didn’t know what else he could do. He needed to talk to Grantz or Dolman.
Between him and Sergeant Jones, they managed to give the Enforcer the
information he requested.

“There is also
the matter of a fine,” the Enforcer continued. “Fighting in the city streets and
the damage that occurred is illegal. The owner of the building is demanding
restitution.”

“We didn’t initiate
the fight,” Kurt said firmly.

“Doesn’t
matter,” answered the Enforcer. “You were part of what happened, and, as the
only party still here, you are liable for the damages.”

Before Kurt could
say anything else, Keera put her hand on his arm.

“These people
have been subjected to V-14 gas, which is also against Kubitz law. I would ask
that the fine be reduced, due to extenuating circumstances.”

The Enforcer
eyed Keera for a moment and then nodded his head. “Twenty thousand credits,” he
announced. He entered some information on his computer pad and then handed it
to Kurt. “I need your thumbprint, plus your Controller computer card, to make
payment.”

Kurt pressed
his thumb against the tablet and handed the Enforcer the card. Moments later
the Enforcer returned it and walked off.

“Thanks,” Kurt
said, turning to Keera. “Could I talk you into coming to our embassy? I have
some questions I’d like to ask about what goes on here on Kubitz. The more I’m
here, the more confused I get.”

“The hellhole
of the galaxy,” Keera replied with a grin. “My shift is over, so I have the
time. It will cost you though.”

Here it comes,
thought Kurt. She’ll demand money for treating me and answering questions. Was
everyone on this barbaric planet the same?

“A nice meal
would be greatly appreciated,” she said in a pleasant voice.

Kurt tried not
to show his surprise. “I think that can be arranged.”

-

A few minutes
later, they were on their way to the embassy in new and better-armored
vehicles. Kurt guessed, from the armed guards who were in the vehicles with
them, that Dolman had made the arrangements. Kurt wondered how much this would
cost. Once at the embassy he would contact the
Star Cross
and inform
Captain Randson of what happened. Somehow or another he had to find Private Dulcet.
He wasn’t leaving her in the hands of her captors.

Kurt watched
with interest as they pulled up to the new embassy compound. It contained one
large building and half a dozen smaller ones. It was surrounded by a five-meter
wall with two guarded entrances. One of the things they had discussed doing was
modifying several of the satellite buildings into dormitory like structures to house
any humans who were brought to Kubitz to be sold in the slave auctions. Kurt
still found it revolting to think that, even on civilized worlds, people could
be sold into slavery. However, from what Grantz had patiently explained, most
of the jobs were for some type of household servant.

“How long have
you been on Kubitz?” asked Kurt, looking over at Keera, sitting next to him in
the vehicle.

“Six years,”
she responded. “My brother came here to do business, and we ended up staying. I
had just passed my final medical exam and was offered quite a lucrative
contract to stay on here in one of the larger medical centers.”

Before Kurt
could say anything else, the vehicles came to a stop, and he was surprised to
see both Grantz and Dolman standing at the entrance to the main building. He
wanted to talk to them about finding his missing Marine.

“Avery
Dolman,” muttered Keera unhappily, gazing at the man. “How did you fall in with
him?”

“Profiteer
Grantz introduced us,” Kurt answered, as they left the vehicle. “Is there a
problem?” He wondered how she knew Dolman.

“Not really,” responded
Keera, shrugging her shoulders. “Just watch him. He runs a large protection
agency and is rumored to be heavily involved in the black market. Make sure anything
you do with him is under contract with every detail spelled out.”

“Thanks for
the advice,” Kurt said, as they walked up the steps where Dolman and Grantz
waited.

“I’m glad to
see you’re all right,” Grantz said. “I was concerned when I heard your vehicles
had been hit.”

“I’m sure you
were,” answered Kurt, knowing Grantz was probably more worried about his next
payment of gold.

“The Dacroni
from the battleship in orbit hit you,” Dolman said evenly. His gaze shifted to Keera
and then back to Kurt. “They sent down two groups of mercenaries with orders to
kidnap one of your people. They seem to be highly interested in what’s in that
cargo ship that’s staying close to your battlecruiser.”

“How do you
know all that?” demanded Kurt. The Enforcers hadn’t indicated any connection
with the orbiting Dacroni ship.

“Let’s just
say, I have my sources,” Dolman replied noncommittally.

“Where’s
Private Dulcet now?” asked Kurt, growing deeply concerned, since it seemed this
was more than a mere kidnapping for ransom. “Is there any way we can rescue
her?”

“Two Dacroni
shuttles left the spaceport shortly after the attack,” Dolman answered. “From
my source, Private Dulcet was on one of the shuttles. Once she’s on their battleship
that will put her effectively beyond our reach.”

Kurt wasn’t
pleased with this news. From what he had been told, it would be tantamount to
suicide to attempt to launch an attack against the Dacroni battleship. The
Kubitz defense grid would activate and take out all the attacking ships.

“How do we get
her back?”

“You don’t,” Grantz
said, his eyes shifting suspiciously to Keera. “Who is this woman with you?”

“She’s a
doctor who helped us after the attack,” Kurt answered, his mind still on
private Dulcet. “I asked her to come to the embassy for a meal to show my
gratitude for her assistance. Is there any type of deal we can make with the
Dacroni?”

Dolman frowned
and slowly shook his head. “I doubt it. I’ll make some inquiries and see what’s
out there. If I were you, I wouldn’t get my hopes up of ever seeing Private
Dulcet again.”

-

Several hours
passed, and Kurt met with a number of people in the business of selling weapons
on Kubitz. A Controller was also at the table, in case his services were
needed. Neither Grantz nor Dolman had been allowed to attend this particularly meeting,
as Kurt didn’t really want them to know what he was up to. He had brought along
Lieutenant Tenner, so he could become more familiar with how things were done
on Kubitz. It would probably be a learning experience for both of them.

“I understand
you want to procure some high-tech weapon systems,” said Lomatz, who was the
chief negotiator for one of the military weapons firms that worked directly for
the Kubitz government. Lomatz looked nearly human, except his eyes had a yellow
tint to them.

Kurt nodded.
Most of the people in the room were from Kubitz. “Yes, we’re interested in
procuring a defense grid to put around our planet.”

Lomatz frowned
and called up some information on a small computer tablet he had with him. “I
understand your home world has been taken by Profiteer Creed, and he has hired
some Dacroni mercenaries to help maintain control of the planet. As long as the
Dacroni battleships are in orbit, it will be impossible to emplace a defense
system.”

“We also have
a colony world,” explained Lieutenant Tenner. “The defense grid is to ensure
the safety of that world.”

“A wise
choice,” one of the other humanoids said, nodding his head in understanding.
“Just what type of system are you interested in?”

“Something
that would discourage an attack, such as what Profiteer Creed launched against
Earth,” Kurt answered evenly. “I have been told, if we can destroy or damage
enough Profiteer ships, they will pull back rather than risk a loss to their
profits.”

“That is true
in most cases,” Lomatz responded, his eyes narrowing.

Lomatz had
brought three others with him, and they quickly huddled together and talked animatedly
to one another. One of them took out another tablet. Finally the four seemed
satisfied, and Lomatz turned toward Kurt.

“Six orbiting defense
platforms, twenty-four satellites armed with standard energy weapons, and one
control center to coordinate everything.”

“How much?” Lieutenant
Tenner asked, his eyes focusing on Lomatz.

Lomatz looked
over at one of his associates who answered, “Eighty-two million credits.”

“And this
would ensure that Profiteers such as Creed would leave us alone?” asked Kurt.
It made him uneasy having to depend on these humanoids to plan the defense of Newton.

“Yes,” one of
the others answered. “These weapons systems are capable of inflicting just enough
damage on an attacking fleet to make profits impossible. In most cases just the
presence of the defense system will deter aggression. Most of the systems in
the Gothan Empire, plus a number of others outside the empire, have this type
of system.”

Kurt leaned
back and folded his arms across his chest. Newton was Earth’s only hope of
eventual freedom. “Are there more powerful weapon systems available for
planetary defense?” He suspected that, while it might be true that this type of
system would deter most attacks, he wanted something that would discourage even
a full-size battlefleet from attacking Newton.

The humanoids
seemed surprised by the question.

“Yes, there
are more powerful systems,” Lomatz answered carefully. “However they’re
extremely expensive, and most planetary governments can’t afford them. The type
of system I’m speaking of is widely used in some of the more enlightened
systems that don’t want to depend on a warfleet for protection.”

“What type of system
would it take to destroy an attacking fleet such as the one Profiteer Creed has
at his disposal?”

“Destroy it completely?”
asked the humanoid holding the tablet. “You’re talking about a system that
would cost several hundred million credits. It would involve no less than twelve
Class Two Orbital Defense Platforms, forty-eight satellites with dual firing
energy weapons, a Class Two Command and Control Center, and six Planetary Defense Centers with top-of-the-line direct-energy cannons that can hit anything
in orbit.”

“We’ll take
it,” Kurt answered without hesitation.

“What!”
uttered Lomatz, looking stunned. “We rarely sell those systems because of their
price. Do you have that many credits?”

“I can have
that much in my account within twenty-two hours.”

The four
humanoids talked again. This time it took much longer. Finally they turned back
to Kurt.

“We can have
the system ready for delivery in sixty days,” Lomatz answered. “We’ll use one
of our special cargo fleets to deliver the system and two of our construction
ships to install it. We’ll also guarantee the safety of your planet from the
time we arrive until the time the system is activated.”

“Very well,” replied
Kurt, surprised at how quickly they could have it ready. Then he leaned forward
and looked intently at the four. “We also want to purchase a large supply of hypermissiles.”

“Hypermissiles
are one of the standard weapons most species in the galaxy employ,” one of the
humanoids answered, leaning back and focusing his attention on Kurt. “The basic
missile costs twenty thousand credits each. How many are you interested in and
what type of warheads do you want on them?”

“One
thousand,” Kurt answered without hesitation. “What are the options for the
warheads?”

“For twenty
thousand credits the missile comes with a standard ten-kiloton explosive
warhead. For fifty thousand credits the warhead detonates in the fifty-kiloton
range,” Lomatz answered.

“Do you have
anything more powerful?”

Lomatz looked
at his associates a little uneasily. “There are the antimatter warheads which
detonate in the fifty-megaton range. Those warheads, once they have been sold,
are not allowed back inside the Kubitz System or the Gothan Empire. We have
special detection equipment that constantly scans the system, and any ship
entering Kubitz space will be annihilated if it contains such weapons. Other
inhabited worlds in the empire are similarly equipped and follow the same
policy. They are two hundred thousand credits each.”

“Let’s change
our order slightly,” Kurt said. “I want one hundred antimatter warheads and two
hundred of the fifty-kiloton and the rest in the standard ten-kiloton range.”

“What about
the defense system?” asked the humanoid with the tablet. “The system comes
equipped with the standard hypermissile warhead. Do you want some of the
stronger missiles for it as well?

“Yes,” Kurt
answered. “Twenty percent of the hypermissiles are to be in the fifty-kiloton
range and the rest can be of the standard ten-kiloton warheads.

“Fifty million
additional credits.”

“Done,” responded
Kurt without hesitation.

“What about
ships?” one of the others ventured. “We sell warships as well. We have the
largest orbital shipyards in this section of the galaxy. We can provide you
with a standard model or one built to your specifications.”

Kurt looked
over at Lieutenant Tenner. This wasn’t something he had even considered. Was it
possible he could actually buy a fleet or have one built? “How much does a battleship
cost, like the ones the Dacroni possess?”

“Those are
special vessels and very heavily armed,” Lomatz answered. “They were built
specifically for the Dacroni. Normal battleships equipped with ion cannons,
energy projectors, and hypermissiles will run about fifteen to twenty million
credits each. A battlecruiser similarly armed will run about twelve to fifteen
million. All of this is, of course, dependent upon what options you want
included.”

Kurt could
scarcely believe what he was hearing.

“If we
purchased the standard model, how soon could you have a battlecruiser or
battleship completed?”

“Sixty to eighty
days,” one of the other humanoids answered promptly. “We keep a supply of the
hulls on hand already completed. We just need to add what weapons and options
you want. Most of these are modules that just need to be slid into place. We
can also adjust the crew quarters and other areas inside to fit whatever design
scheme you prefer. We can do an entire fleet rather quickly.”

“If we order
some vessels, can it be done in secret?” asked Lieutenant Tenner.

“Yes,” Lomatz
replied. “It can be written into the contract, and no one, not even the work
crews, will know where the ships are heading. I should inform you of one other
important piece of data. It is against the laws of the Gothan Empire for any
ship built at Kubitz to be used against any world of the empire. If that were
to occur, then you would be at war with all 118 worlds. This will be explained
in great detail in the contract.”

“What about
outside the empire?” asked Kurt carefully. “Could I attack the Profiteer fleet
in orbit around Earth with a fleet purchased here at Kubitz?”

“The rule does
not apply outside the cluster,” answered Lomatz, his eyes unwavering.

Kurt knew this
was a big decision. It would also be necessary to come up with the crews. However,
how could he not jump at the opportunity to buy a warfleet? It might be the
solution to freeing Earth from Profiteer Creed’s grasp. “Give me a day or two
to consult with some of my people on the ships. If we do decide to buy some
warships, can I send some of my own construction engineers to help with modifications
to the interiors?”

“That’s
perfectly fine,” responded Lomatz, nodding his head. “Most worlds that purchase
vessels do send engineers so the interiors can be built to specifications they
are more comfortable with. Do you want to complete the contract for the hyperspace
missiles and the Class Two defense system today?”

“Yes,” Kurt answered.

-

For the next hour,
they hammered out the exact details for delivery of the hypermissiles and the
defense grid. They would take immediate delivery of one hundred of the missiles
and would load them aboard the
Lansing
. The rest would be delivered when
the defense grid was brought to Newton. It ended with Kurt pressing his thumb
against the computer pad the Controller had brought.