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How Far the Stars (The Star Scout Saga Book 5)
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HOW FAR THE STARS
by
Gary J. Darby
Book Five
In the Star Scout Saga
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter One
Star date: 2443.112
Aboard the IntrepidX, Far Outside Imperium Space
Piercing eyes as if he were a peregrine falcon on the hunt, Star Scout Dason Thorne’s gaze on the sensor vu-scope was sharp, keen, and intense.
Staring at the unfolding scene, his tanned hands gripped the deck-gray sensor console, and his breathing quickened.
Standing next to him, head and shoulders above the humans stood Elder Tor’al, presumptive head of the mighty extraterrestrial Sha’anay Nation.
Clad in the traditional Sha’anay warrior uniform, Tor’al gestured with one hand and asked Dason in his guttural tongue, “It is what you see in your mind, Dason?”
“Yes,” Dason replied in a quiet but eager voice, trying hard to contain his mounting excitement. “It’s exactly what I see.”
Off to one side of the shimmering planet floated a misshapen moon, and it was there that Dason fixed his look. The moon’s surface was ragged and torn, and its pale ruddy color stood out in stark contrast against the ebony darkness of space.
One whole side of the contorted orb appeared as if a giant sledgehammer had crashed into the moon’s craggy crust, blasting out enormous fragments, small satellites themselves, from the sphere’s stricken exterior.
Those huge rocky chunks stretched out to one side as if they were giant stepping-stones leading outward into the cosmos.
There was a rustling sound behind Dason, and he turned to see General Rosberg, Scoutmaster Tarracas, Captain Federov, and Teng Rhee striding toward the two.
Rosberg examined the scope before he gestured toward the scene and asked, “Is that it, youngster?”
Dason leaned back and released the breath he felt he had been holding ever since the IntrepidX had decelerated to sublight speed and entered the unnamed planetary system. “Yes sir. Elder Tor’al was right; that’s the planet, and that’s the moon.”
Rosberg leaned in to get a closer look and asked in an awed tone, “Elder, your weapons did that to a whole moon?”
A soft rumbling, similar to a human chuckle emanated from Tor’al and he reached out with one large finger to tap on the viewer.
“The Mongans tried to use the moon as a shield to deflect our fire, but against the combined power of ten of our battle cruisers, the moon did not prove a sufficient buffer.”
“Whew,” Rosberg answered with a little whistle. “That I can see.”
Tor’al turned to Federov with a little bow. “It is not my place to tell the master how to run his ship, but I would share with you that it has been our experience that we sometimes find the Mongans in places where they’ve already visited.”
He paused and gave a humanlike shrug. “Why? We do not know, only that it happens.”
“Elder,” Federov replied firmly, “when it comes to the Mongans, feel free to advise this ship’s master anytime you want.”
He turned to a nearby crew member. “Commander Jeth, slow us down. Ease her in, with all sensor arrays up and manned, and go to battle stations.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” she replied.
Moments later a loud warbling filled the bridge followed by a sharp voice over the ship’s internal communicator: “Now hear this. Now hear this. Battle stations! All hands to your battle stations. This is not a drill; this is not a drill. Set condition Yoke throughout the ship.”
The bridge lights went from soft white to a dim red and around Dason the veteran sailors of the IntrepidX, the fastest ship in the Imperium Navy, made sure the craft was in warfighting trim.
Assured that his ship was ready for battle, Captain Federov returned to the group. Scoutmaster Tarracas asked, “How soon before we make orbit?”
Federov glanced over to the navigation plot. “I realize that there is lots of urgency in this mission, nevertheless I’m going to take us in nice and slow, let our sensors get a good look at this system before we place ourselves in orbit.”
With a wry smile, Teng Rhee asked, “Making sure you don’t pull an ‘Ursula’?”
“You got that right,” Federov replied in a firm voice. To their questioning expressions, he waved a hand and sighed, “It’s a long story.”
He went on to say, “So if nothing pops up, we’ll make the planet in about an hour.”
The group watched the scope for a few more minutes, before Commander Jeth stepped to Federov’s side and began to speak in low tones to him.
As he listened, his eyes widened and an expression approaching astonishment appeared on his bearded face. “Are you sure? It’s confirmed?” he questioned her.
“Yes sir,” she replied.
Without a word, Federov hurried away, leaving Dason and the others to wonder what was so urgent. Several minutes later, he returned to the small group. “General, Scoutmaster, Mister Rhee, a moment of your time.”
He led the two away to a quiet nook on one side of the oval bridge, where he handed Rosberg a handheld compu.
To Dason, the general appeared to read something for several long seconds before he became statue-still and just stared at the compu’s display.
As if he held an enormous weight in his hand that he could barely move, he passed the device slowly over to the Scoutmaster.
After Tarracas had read whatever was on the compu, he passed it to Teng Rhee. Rosberg and Tarracas huddled together for several seconds before Rosberg turned to Federov and spoke to him quietly.
Federov nodded in answer, turned, and went to a nearby console. Moments later, his voice came over the ship’s speakers. “This is Captain Federov. All Star Scouts are to report to the captain’s ready room on the double.”
In a few minutes, Dason filed into the chamber with the other onboard Star Scouts. Typically used as a conference room for the captain and his senior staff, the area allowed the scouts barely enough space to move about as they squeezed around the oblong table that sat in the center of the room.
Dason spotted Shanon and the other members of his team and wormed his way through the small crowd to sidle up next to the group. “What gives?” Sami whispered.
Dason gave a quick shrug in answer. “I’m not sure,” he rapidly explained. “I saw Captain Federov give the general a message, a
nd after he had read it, he ordered us in here.”
He gave the group a broad smile. “But listen, we found it. The planet with the shattered moon. We’re inbound now, and about an hour out.”
“Dason,” Shanon said enthusiastically with a broad smile the lit up her face, “that’s great news.”
“Elder Tor’al nailed it,” Dason replied. “He knew the exact coordinates. But the captain is taking us in slow because Tor’al indicated that sometimes the Mongans revisit worlds where they’ve already been.”
“Interesting,” Alena observed. “Did he say why?”
Dason shook his head in answer. “He doesn’t know, only that sometimes they do, and it’s wise to be cautious. That’s why the captain called for battle stations and is taking the ship in nice and easy.”
Just then, Rosberg, Tarracas, and Federov walked in, and the group came to attention. “Stand at ease,” Rosberg ordered.
He let his eyes sweep across the small group of scouts. “In a moment, the captain is going to make a shipwide announcement and read a message from fleet headquarters.”
Frowning, his eyes became set and hard. “Afterward, the Scoutmaster and I will tell you what our thoughts are on the situation and what we propose to do about it.”
With a little gesture toward Federov, he stood to one side as the Nav captain went to a nearby console and pressed on a small inset button. “All hands, this is the captain. I’ve received a message from fleet headquarters with orders to read to the entire crew. The message reads:
“To: All Commands
“From: Stannick, Fleet Admiral, Chief of Interstellar Operations, Imperium Navy.
“At 0100 hours, Star Date 2443.111 the following message was received by Fleet Command. I am directing you to pass this communiqué along to your subordinate commands and ensure that all fleet sailors receive the following from the Imperium High Council.
“Be it known throughout the Imperium that the High Council has taken the following actions in response to the direct and dire threat posed by insurgent elements within the Imperium coupled with the imminent threat of invasion by powerful extraterrestrial forces from outside Imperium space.
“These actions are taken in the best interest of protecting Imperium citizens, to safeguard our rights and privileges, and ensure the security and continued existence of our glorious civilization.
“1. The High Council is hereby dissolved.
“2. Imperium-wide and final governing authority now rests with our Supreme Leader, Adiak Peller.
“3. The Grand Charter is suspended for the emergency’s duration.
“4. The Supreme Leader will issue such proclamations, decrees, and decisions to ensure tranquility, harmony, and obedience to such laws as are necessary.
“5. Operational control of all Imperium military, paramilitary, and governmental bureaucracies, as well as planetary governorships and bureaucracies, fall under the Supreme Leader’s direct authority.
“6. The Supreme Leader will issue necessary instructions as needed so that this transition proceeds smoothly, and the business of the Imperium continues without disruption.
“7. All citizens should rest assured that fundamentally nothing has changed and these actions, though necessary, should be considered temporary.
“Signed under the hand of Adiak Peller, Imperium Supreme Leader.”
Federov took a breath before finishing with, “That is all.”
With that, he gave Rosberg a small nod and strode from the room. As the door slid behind him, Rosberg turned to address the small assembly of scouts.
A weak smile crossed his face. “What Captain Federov didn’t tell his crew, but what I’ll share with you is that Admiral Stannick sent along a personal side message to me that said, ‘Remember, Ty, the IntrepidX is still just a loan and if you break it, you pay for it.’”
One or two feeble chuckles came in answer to Rosberg’s game effort to break the somber mood. Most met the news with stunned, stony silence.
After the initial shock had worn off, the silence gave way to guttural growls, as if there were a half-dozen caged and hungry lions penned inside the small room.
Doctor Stinneli stepped forward. “Sir, with all due respect, but if I read that right, what you’ve just told us is that there is no more Grand Charter, no more Imperium as we know it. They’re gone; replaced by a dictator.”
Rosberg’s eyes were rock hard as he met Stinneli’s frank stare. “I’m afraid that your assessment is spot on, doctor.”
“But why?” Stinneli sputtered. “Why would the High Council abdicate like that, nullify the charter, and let a madman completely take over? It defies reason and logic.”
Rosberg spread his hands in a gesture of agreement. “I understand your point, doctor, and I concur, and I wish I could answer the question.
“I can only say that something so incredibly significant occurred that the council must have had no choice. But what that was, I have no idea.”
“Oh great,” Sami muttered aloud. “So, if it’s not the Imperium, what are we calling it? The Pellerium?”
“That’s not funny, Sami,” Dason replied before raising his voice to ask, “Sir, what about our Scout Oath? Are we no longer Star Scouts?”
Rosberg glanced at the Scoutmaster, who returned his stare. In answer to the general’s unspoken prompting, he took a step forward. “Since our inception, we Star Scouts have always viewed ourselves in a little different vein than other organizations within the Imperium.”
He gave a little shrug accompanied by a tiny smile. “Some have called us conceited, or arrogant because we haven’t always been at the beck and call of the Imperium’s political masters.
“For us, as long as the charter guaranteed individual liberty and civil rights, it has never been so much a matter of who we served, but rather, how we served.
“The Oath has always played a part in that collective awareness. A few among us have viewed the oath in legalistic terms, trying to define what each word or phrase meant precisely and then applying their individual effort to those defining parameters.
“Yes, there has always been the exactness of the oath embodied in the words, but more so, there is the spirit of the pledge as well, and between the two, it has always been the spirit that is the stronger.
“Without the individual scout’s willing heart and mind behind the words, they are merely a grouping of letters, without life or energy of their own. In truth, without the spirit, without the actions propelled by that spirit, the oath is a dead thing in the mind, of no worth or value.”
He peered at the group before letting his gaze settle on Dason. “So what does this and this,” he said and rested a hand over his heart before raising it to his head, “say to you, whether or not you are still a Star Scout, and whether or not the Scout Oath still lives within you?”
Not a person moved; no one spoke until Dason straightened to his full height. “As for me, Scoutmaster, the oath still lives, and I am still a Star Scout.”
As if they had practiced it beforehand, the whole group came to attention, silent, but in total agreement with Dason’s sentiments.
Dason felt a warmth spread through his body at the Scoutmaster’s proud nod. Rosberg took a step forward too. “And so am I.”
Rosberg then addressed the group in a subdued nature. “Legend has it that when Julius Caesar took his Roman legions over the Rubicon River in what was then ancient Italy on Earth, the river was the point of no return if a rebellious general marched on Rome, the Roman Empire’s capital.
“Once Caesar crossed the river, it is said that he uttered the words, ‘Alea jacta est . . .’ the die is cast.
“In other words, he had no choice but to continue to Rome and achieve victory, or if he failed, he and his men would be condemned to a slow and painful death.”
He paused to let his scouts deliberate over his words and for him to consider how to impart the crux of his message. “When you swore the Scout Oath as part of your enlistment in t
he corps, you also swore to uphold Imperium laws as well as to obey the Star Scout officers appointed over you.”
“Now it appears that in reality, the Imperium no longer exists and those laws do not exist.”
Inhaling, he let eyes rove the faces of his scouts before speaking. “I believe that we have reached our Rubicon, our point of no return. I’m no legal beagle, and I’m not here to preach rebellion against this so-called supreme leader.
“But, as far as I’m concerned, Star Scout Command still exists, and it still operates under the Grand Charter principles.”
His voice rose in volume and firmness, “It lives right here in this room, in you, in me, in the Scoutmaster here, in all of us. We came Out Here to do a mission, to save one of our own, and afterward, to save more, many more, of our scout mates.”
His eyes blazed, and his voice rang out. “So what do you say, scouts?”
“That’s telling them, general!” Sami shouted. “Let’s find our man, and then take the fastest route back to Earth to kick some Peller pooty!”
TJ leaned over to loudly say, “Sami, I think you mean, booty, not pooty.”
Sami shrugged in response. “We’ll kick that, too.”
Rosberg’s stern face relaxed in a small smile as it became evident that the group shared Sami’s feelings. “I must admit that I appreciate your sentiment, scout,” he said.
He let his eyes wander over the group, nodding in satisfaction at what he saw. “Good, now that we’ve got that settled, and we know where we stand, let’s get ready to go and find Captain Marrel. But first, this is a good time to take care of some business.”
He went to the comm's console and spoke in a quiet voice. Moments later, Elder Tor’al ducked through the hatchway and lumbered into the room to stand next to Rosberg.
The general turned to the scouts and ordered, “Group, attention! Scoutmaster Tarracas, Lieutenant Renn, Doctor Stinneli, form up.”
The three took their places in a straight line and to one side of Rosberg. The general then ordered, “Scout Dason Thorne, front and center!”
Swallowing hard, Dason stepped from the crowd to place himself in front of General Rosberg and snapped a smart salute.