Asteroid Belt
Roonk
Command Minder Roonk jabbed his sharp pincher claw into the jaunja
bag angrily, pulled it out and watched as the bag repaired itself.
Contemplating another jab, it growled and turned its back with a loud
snap of its claws.
Subordinate Minder Wackeen had reported damage to its vessel as it
pursued a possible spy. If the UTC had somehow found out about this
operation there would be trouble soon. The idea of an Olan slipping in
and getting evidence back to the UTC gnawed at its digestive tract like a
gorg worm. Eat them all, those blasted soft shells.
What was worse was the fact that all evidence of the original intruder
was gone. Not just that, but the entire rock that it was supposed to
have happened on was missing. Missing? Roonk growled again with
frustration. How in all of the heavens could a rock that size just
disappear?
One survey ship missing, another being repaired, a survey crew dead
AND missing, and now an entire asteroid was not where it was
supposed to be. Troubles now pursued Roonk as if it were prey. There
was an overwhelming desire within its innards to scuttle into a hole
somewhere and avoid.
There was only one solution. Minder Wackeen had to discover the spy
and capture them. They had to ascertain what if any information the
UTC had about this operation. If they had been discovered there would
have to be an evacuation. It would be blamed if any more of the
equipment and personnel were lost.
Wackeen
Wackeen struck angrily at its jaunja bag. Its frustration led it to strike
again and again. The act was so unsatisfying. Better to jab into flesh and
pull loose dripping chunks of meat to shove into its mouth and chew
furiously. Three days? That was an eternity to wait for the repairs to be
made. Its prey had already escaped. Even if that stolen ship landed on
the planet it suspected, the prey had plenty of time to hide itself.
Perhaps it was dead already and could not be found. That would be
better than if it escaped back to the UTC. But so much would be lost.
The knowledge of this new technology would slip through Wackeen’s
claws.
It took another jab at the bag. It withdrew its claws and the bag
reformed back to its normal state. Wackeen had always thought it
would be better if the bags would drip some warm substance, perhaps
edible. No doubt it would lead to frenzy, but sometimes a frenzy
worked wonders for nerves. Some of Wackeen's best sleep was right
after a feeding frenzy.
No sleep would come any time soon. It glared at the navigation map at
that tiny dot orbiting the star of this system. Third dot out, so tiny on
the chart, but far larger up close, when searching for a crafty creature
that didn't want to be found, especially, if it was an Olan. As much as
Wackeen hated them, it respected them as well. They are the most
formidable opponents in known space. The Dawlg knew they were also
quite tasty. Wackeen had found it very satisfying to taste the flesh of
such an opponent. It makes one feel powerful. Wackeen shivered at the
thought. Yes, to bite into this prey would be so satisfying.
But as time went by so the chances of capturing that Olan slimmed. Six
hours had gone by while the engineer Minders looked over the damage,
and then made their request for new parts, then new parts were
shuttled in. Why the Command Minder would not give Wackeen a new
vessel to pursue? Was it not because the Command Minder was a
cowardly hider, a prey? It would not risk losing any more equipment.
Wackeen would someday challenge the little minded Minder and snap
its shell open and dig the juicy meat out and eat it while the crawler still
lived and was aware. And all the time Wackeen would grasp its fearful
thoughts, and mentally torment it till it was aware no more.
Wackeen was not patient like some lurker in the dark waiting for prey to
come by to be snatched easily. Wackeen was a hunter. It could barely
tolerate the confines of this ship. Time after time it had stretched out its
mind to seek that fleeting shadow of thoughts it had sensed before, but
it was gone. It had to wait and wait and wait.
Unified Trade Compact Headquarter
Planet Clordor
Olan Councilman Glaf
Senior Council Glaf grimaced behind the table as his comrades argued
amongst themselves. The council was divided on the Dawlg question,
had been for such a long time. This intolerable race was constantly
causing problems. Yet what could be done. They were protected as a
sentient race. Never mind that they had been engineered to be a
weapon hundreds of ages ago. What matters
is sentience. And the Protectors would not allow them to be destroyed.
Not completely any way. Four major wars had occurred with them as
the cause. Not to mention all the murderous raids and poaching parties
that they constantly partook in on restricted primitive planets. Wipe
them all out was the solution Glaf preferred. They were pests, insects to
be exterminated to keep the rest of the universe safe.
“The question is not if but when.” Council Shamfore was saying. “We all
know that eventually, they are going to attack a major system and
overrun it. They have been clandestinely entering restricted systems
and running illegal mining operations, as well as hunting and killing
primitive sentient species. When will it be appropriate to take action?”
Chief Council Raynee answered, “Action cannot be taken unless and
until evidence of these things you charge is brought forth. Even then we
are limited in what action we take. Sanctions have proven effective in
the past, we must start with that.
Council Samdo, “Evidence? How much evidence do we need? How
many mutilated corpses, or body parts do we have to see? How many
mined asteroids do we have to find? The primitive people of system
1592-7K could not have mined that systems asteroids, yet actual
physical proof that it has occurred has been displayed here this very
day. At this very moment, another restricted system is being
investigated for the very same thing. How much, Chief Council, do we
need?”
“It cannot be proven that these instances you speak of are done by the
Dawlgs.” Raynee replied. “Some other group could have done this.”
Council Glaf shook his head and raise his hand. “We know it is the
Dawlgs. To deny this is to ignore history. Should we not consider the
great wars? Their nature and intentions have not changed and will not.
The longer we wait to rid the universe of this scourge the more danger
of war and death on an even greater scale than before. I say again, not
all Dawlgs can be technically qualified as sentient. I say we destroy the
non-sentient breeders. It’s a very easy solution. A virus can be designed
easily...”
“Mr. Glaf.” The Chief Council spoke with anger now. “That would be
xenocide and you know it. Whether the breeders are sentient is of no
consequence, as you know, all classes of Dawlg come from those same
breeders. So in effect you would be killing a sentient race. The
Protectors will not allow it.”
The Protectors, Glaf scoffed in himself. The Protectors, the ancient race
of for all intents and purposes all powerful beings that supposedly
“protected” the people of the universe from each other. Yet they
allowed these murderous Dawlgs to thrive and kill innocents
throughout the galaxy. Some believed they were kin to the ultra-
advance race called Gandan. It was the Gandan who had produced the
Dawlgs in the first place. It very nearly got them wiped out. That was
thousands of cycles ago. And now the Dawlgs had found their way into
space. They had stolen technology from their creators. Glaf believed the
Gandan's should be held responsible for their mistake. They should
have to clean up their mess. Of course the Gandan do not care what
others think. They are so much more advanced than any other race
represented in the UTC.
In the midst of his musing, Glaf was interrupted by a courier with a
special dispatch from Admiral Shole. The investigation of the activities
suspected in a restricted system had developed a slight problem. The
scout sent to investigate had not returned and there was no contact.
Council Glaf took an orb from his pouch and encrypted a message
within. He handed it to the courier and instructed him to deliver it to
the Admiral himself. The courier bowed and left in a rush.
Council Glaf found himself smiling. Perhaps enough evidence would
now be produced to convince even the chief Council himself. If not it
was of no consequence. His people, the Olan, were not sitting idly by
while this plague of Dawlgs was left to plunder and destroy. Now they
had possibly captured and killed one of his best pilots. That was an act
of war in his book. This time the Olan would not leave any of the bugs
to spread death and destruction. This time, they would strike before the
Protectors could interfere.
Dawlg Occupied Space
Chamber of the Omni
To the knowledge of most, a Dawlg Keen was the highest class of Dawlg.
Only a few elite Keen, the ruling class, knew of the highest order of
Dawlg, the Omni. Of these there were only three. These three were
connected telepathically. In turn, their minds could touch any Dawlg
mind, anywhere, regardless of the distance. The Omni were a carefully
guarded secret. It was they who directed the race forward according to
an intricate plan.
Within a chamber deep beneath the surface of a moon of an outer
planet of the home system of the Dawlgs, they stretched out their
minds and manipulated members of their race. For all intents and
purposes, they were the gods of the Dawlgs.
Ironically, there was no religion for Dawlgs. They had no mythology, no
legends, only the story of their beginnings, as a creation of an advanced
race, which used them for the purpose of war. As the story goes, the
Dawlgs threw off the bonds of their creators and had become an
advanced race in their own right. They did not worship the creators.
Rather, they honored themselves as superior to their creators for they
had very nearly wiped that race out.
So the godless Dawlgs went about unaware that they were still slave of
a higher power. The Three. The Omni. The minds that have no bounds.
It was these minds that now were probing the minds of certain Minders
very far away in a restricted system. Two Minders, both highly agitated,
both apparently not aware of the part they were playing in the Plan. But
now the Plan was endangered. Because of the appearance of a single
scout ship of the Olan, their latest endeavor might have been
discovered, setting progress of the Plan back once again. So their
thoughts were naturally focused there, probing and analyzing the
situation and possible solutions. It was then that the Omni discovered
something strange and special.
It was the thoughts of the Command Minder that led them there. It was
disturbed by the disappearance of a rather large asteroid. Puzzled by
these things found in the mind of Commander, the mind of a
subordinate Minder was probed. Details were gathered. There were
thoughts of a strange shadow of thoughts, an indescribable, non-
ascertainable mental whisper that was detected by this Minder
Wackeen. The Omni studied the feel of it, acquainted their selves with
the experience of Wackeen, and then searched out a Minder in a survey
ship.
Asteroid Belt
Gonooch
Gonooch was not aware of the nagging voices in his head at first. The
task of directing two drones took up most of one’s attention. It was
almost without thought that It directed them back into the ship. There
was an important mission to take care of. It took no notice that the
instructions to divert Its ship somewhere other than where It had been
assigned had not come from the radio. It just knew that it had
something else to do.
As the drones settled back into their place on board, the Minder plotted
a course to a location. When all was ready, they were on their way. On
route, Gonooch studied the charts, making itself familiar with the rocks
it should find in that area. The trip was not a long one. In just a matter
of moments the survey ship approached the destination. Gonooch
began to scan immediately, looking for any anomalous readings. There
was something missing. A very large rock had been charted in this
position just recently. It had been a rock of interest; some strange things
had been reported about this particular rock. Apparently a survey crew
had died. Gonooch wondered at that.
A rock that size doesn't just disappear, the creature thought. If it had
collided with another asteroid, there should be plenty of debris. There
was none. None of the charted rocks had been moved either. Gonooch
ran possible scenarios through the computer. It would take a lot of
power to move a mass that size. The energy readings didn't add up for
that to have occurred. It might be possible that an asteroid could be
fitted with a stealth device, but that would take a lot of time and
personnel. There had not been enough time between the time it was
last reported to have been observed and the time it was reported
missing.
There was one situation that might occur. Perhaps the rock had
contained some pocket of gas. If a driller had hit that pocket with its
tool, the release of that gas could be enough to move the rock through
space. It could also have resulted in the death of the survey team that
was lost. This seemed the most likely explanation.
Gonooch was about to scan for any gas that might still be left from this
kind of situation when it was struck with an idea. Scan instead with its
mind. That would be an illogical thought, but Gonooch thought nothing
about it. It seemed perfectly logical to it. In fact, it wondered why the
thought had not occurred before this. Of course I need to scan with my
mind. Scan for this certain whisper of thought. Yes, of course.
Suddenly, as the Minder reached out its mind, it felt a surge in power
within its mind. Things were so much clearer, as if its telepathic abilities
had been amplified by several magnitudes. It had never experienced
such clarity before. Immediately, its focus was drawn in a certain
direction. It checked the charts against what it was sensing. It scanned
the area and found an uncharted asteroid. Unfortunately, it was not the
same one that had occupied the space now empty. The shape was all
wrong, although the mass was similar. Even so, it recorded this new
rock on the computer and set a course to the new location.
With its mind, it focused even more on that strange sense of a presence
associated with the rock.
The Omni
The chamber of the Omni echoed with the clicking of giant pincers.
Click, click, click; the sound of three very excited, very large, Dawlg
gods. Click, click, click; what have we found they thought amongst
themselves. We will send the fleet, click, click, click. We will bring that
creature here, click, click, click. We will have it for ourselves and it will
advance our plan. Click, click, click.
Councilman Glaf
Council Glaf was on his way back to his office in the UTC main building
on Clordor. Another wasted day arguing with the insane members of
the Council. After three separate meetings, one in which he had
revealed the latest intelligence and word about the captured scout. Still
they blinded their eyes and required more evidence. Two days of talk
and more talk and no action. What more would it take? Glaf knew
exactly what it would take, a direct attack on one of their home worlds.
That's what it would take to make them serious about the threat of the
bugs. Unfortunately, by that time, the bugs might be unstoppable. They
were not likely to do so until they knew they had the ability to pull it off.
Then we might all be bug food.
As he grimaced at this, nearing the suite of offices that his people
populated here on this alien world, a breathless courier came running
up the hall, in a much undignified manner. Glaf was glad it was not an
Olan acting so. He came to a stop and held out his hand.
The little creature that had been sent with a message was a Janvan.
Their planet had pledged their allegiance to Unified Trade Compact just
recently after a number of raids against some of their outposts by the
bugs. More specifically, the Janva were aligned now with the Olan, for it
was the forces of the Olan that had showed up and halted the raids.
They were very grateful creatures, and very loyal, if a little nervous and
emotional.
“Your Councilship, sir, Excellency. I have correspondence, a message,
from...” at that point the little man stopped himself and looked around,
and simply handed the message orb to Glaf. The Councilman silently
thanked the Creator and looked at the orb.
The Janvan stood looking up at the giant before him, studying his face in
anticipation. As the Councilman began to react, the messenger worked
hard to keep his hands from going up to his mouth in expression of the
panic he felt rise within. The Councilman, whom the messenger thought
could look no paler, proved the little man wrong.
The messenger's name was Joo San Op. The Councilman turned and
with impossibly long legs strode towards his office, now at a pace that
would require that Joo run even faster than he had been to get here.
Joo let out a quiet cry of fright and followed hurriedly after his boss.
This was not a good sign, not a good sign at all.