“Comrade? What are you doing here?”
Hunter spun around to find a huge individual standing right behind him. He was one of the BonoVox’s small army of on-board security troops. As Hunter tried to spit out an explanation, the security man raised a handheld device, pointed it at him, and pushed a button.
A moment later, Hunter found himself locked inside another compartment.
This one had bars he could see.
6
The BonoVox was in the throes of a saturnalia.
The entire ship was high on something. Food, wine, and other exotic intoxicants were available throughout the vessel, and anyone not on duty was permitted to indulge in any vice of their choice. This was no more true than inside Zap Multx’s enormous stateroom. Here, the upper echelon of the BonoVox’s officer staff had gathered to revel and feast.
The starship had something to celebrate. The assault on Vines 67 had been an unqualified success. With the regular Empire Forces troops holding the flanks, Multx’s highly trained soldiers had gone into the key bandit strongholds and quickly eliminated them, destroying all of the opposition’s weaponry and razing their base camps. No prisoners were taken. The victory had been so complete, the bandit groups on the two remaining outlaw planets were already asking for cease-fire terms.
So Multx’s 23rd Special Operations Corps had done in a few hours what Loy Staxx’s men had been unable to do in nearly a year. As a result, Vines 67 was in the Empire’s fold, and Multx’s fortunes had gone up a notch. The key to the victory had been the proper coordination between Multx’s hunter-killer battalions and the Kaon Bombardment ship. This was an option not afforded to Loy Staxx simply because he did not have the connections that Multx had. This alone spoke volumes about the inner workings of the Empire’s military elite.
Multx’s victory had been so swift and total, the BonoVox had already left the Sileasian System and was now streaking Inward. The star commander himself was said to be extremely pleased and had sent a very upbeat report back to Earth to herald his success.
So why then had he invited Erx and Berx to his victory party without the requisite bottle of wine as a gift?
That’s what puzzled the two explorers now as they made their way forward from their billets in aft Uppers. They had watched the battle for Vines 67 unfold from the top-side observation deck; it was the perfect place to follow all aspects of the fighting. And even though they were veterans of similar actions in the past, they had never seen such ruthless efficiency in combat as displayed by Multx’s corps this day.
The speed by which his special operations soldiers had eliminated their opponents was frightening. To say victory had been expeditious was a vast understatement.
So why, then, no bottle of Venusian wine with their invite? The explorers could not fathom a reason for such a breach of festivity protocol, especially from an old friend such as Multx.
Even more inconvenient, Erx and Berx had to walk the entire length of the ship to reach the celebration’s location, something that could take an hour or more. Usually the ship’s command officers would send a transport beam back for those they didn’t want to inconvenience. No such beam arrived for Erx and Berx.
About halfway to their destination, they passed a long line of troopers who had returned from Vines 67 just before the BonoVox began heading Inward. These men were in the same combat suits as they’d been wearing when they embarked on the lightning-quick campaign. But there was something different about them now. They were covered with dirt, mud, green soot, and no little blood. Their weapons appeared used and depleted. Even more telling, the men themselves looked drained. There was little evidence of the spirit the unit was known for prior to battle. These men looked grim, exhausted — disillusioned, even. To an uninformed eye, the question was obvious: If the soldiers had just won the recent engagement, why did they look so downcast?
But Erx and Berx didn’t have to ask.
They knew why…
The explorers finally reached the front of the ship and were ushered into Multx’s stateroom.
The place was packed with the high officers of the ship, several hundred in all. There was lots of wine, lots of vivid dress uniforms, lots of holo-girls. People eating, people drinking. High-pitched background music provided the sound track. The air smelled thick of bravado.
But all was not right. Standing alone in the far corner was Multx, the star commander himself. He looked awful. His face was drawn and pale. His normally razor-sharp eyes were bleary. His substantial shoulders were sagging.
Erx and Berx quickly got drinks and then approached him. One look told them all was not well. But before they could say a word, Multx spoke instead: “Do you know where your friend Mister Hunter is at this moment?”
The explorers looked at each other and shrugged.
“In his billet, I hope?” Erx replied uncertainly.
“Nay, he is in the lower brig,” Multx said in a stern whisper. “For transgressions that carry the ultimate penalty, I might add.”
“The brig!” Erx cried, a bit too loudly. “What has he done?”
Multx yanked them deeper into the corner. They did not have the protection of a hum beam now.
“He was caught in a highly restricted area of the ship during the operation against Vines 67,” Multx said, again in a whisper. “He saw it alclass="underline" from the battle formations before the attack, to the Kaon Bombardment ship in operation, to the beginnings of the invasion itself. He observed more than a half-dozen state secrets in process. Greater souls have been dispatched for less.”
Erx and Berx were both alarmed and confused.
“But how was he able to leave his billet to do such things?” Erx asked. “The plan was to keep him sealed in for the rest of the voyage.”
Multx took a shallow breath. “We have no idea how he was able to get out. And neither does he. Or so he says.”
A small crowd of officers drifted by them, trailed by a bevy of holo-girls. Multx allowed them to pass.
“What is Hunter’s fate now?” Berx asked worriedly. “Certainly you can’t execute him.”
Multx wearily shook his head.
“It is only that my troops so handily won this engagement that I am able to go easy on him,” he replied.
“Few know of his indiscretion at this point. They are too busy with other things.”
He waved his hand to indicate the roomful of inebriated officers.
“And I can maintain our façade,” Multx went on. “But only if nothing else happens. I just hope Mister Hunter is smart enough to keep his lips sealed about what he saw.”
“He is smart,” Erx said quickly. “That much we know.”
“And he will remain in confidence about this matter,” Berx added. “We will guarantee it.”
Multx wiped his brow with his uniform sleeve. He seemed pale.
“I don’t want to regret taking him along with us,” he said wearily. “But if our scheme to get him into the Earth Race goes awry, not only will the happy days we dream of not be forthcoming, we might have some answering to do to my superiors as well…”
“All will be well, my brother,” Erx tried to reassure him. “It’s only by risk that our rewards might be great.”
Multx gulped his drink and grumbled: “Let’s pray that is so. Still, I think it’s best that our feathered friend stay in the brig for the remainder of the journey Inward. Only then can we be sure he’ll find no further trouble to get into.”