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  Although the outside wall that she faced was constructed of reinforced building materials many meters thick, the 3-D SimWindow made it seem that she was looking out a window made of ordinary plate glass. Moreover, she could zoom the image to show any part of the port, from any angle.

  Jenetta sipped at her coffee while watching the activity for a short time and then took her seat at the desk and began going through the morning's accumulation of messages and reports. She had completed reading everything in her queue, marked most for filing, and responded to others that required a response, by the time her first appointment arrived. So began a day filled with numerous meetings.

  Jenetta worked until the lunch hour and then left to take her daily walk through the civilian concourse where she'd stop at one of the many restaurants to have lunch. Other people on the concourse gave her a wide berth because of her cats, although most everyone knew that they weren't a danger if you didn't menace her.

  Virtually every sentient species known to the Galactic Alliance visits the base at one time or another. Even Pledgians, the small, round, furry creatures with stick-like arms and legs, and eyes mounted on stalks that could rise up a full meter from the top of the creature when it had need to be vigilant, were seen frequently. At rest, the arms, legs, and eyestalks disappeared into the creature's body, leaving only a furry gray, medium green or magenta ball visible.

  Stepping into one of the newest eateries, a Nordakian restaurant, she was seated immediately, once the owner and staff could be coaxed to rise from their knees. If her status as base commander wasn't enough to guarantee special treatment, then her status as a Nordakian Azula and Lady of the Royal House of Nordakia would have guaranteed it in any Nordakian business. Nordakian males, normally between seven and eight feet in height, were required to drop to one knee and bow their heads, while saluting by holding their clenched hand to their chest, when meeting a member of the Royal Family or the Nordakian nobility. An Azula is the approximate equivalent of a Duchess in Earth nobility, and the added distinction of being a Lady of the Royal House ranked her just below the Royal Family. Her estate on Obotymot, a colony planet of Nordakia, encompassed all 36 million hectares of the Gavistee Peninsula.

  Although born on Earth, Jenetta held dual citizenship as both a Terran and Nordakian, and had been officially commissioned a captain in the Nordakian Space Force years before achieving that rank with Space Command. The citizenship, commission, and investiture as a Lady of the Royal House, were rewards for services performed for Nordakia while functioning as acting captain of the freighter that had rescued her from a ten-year slumber in an escape pod. Most of her estate was a reward for restoring to the Nordakian people an original edition of the book that defined their religion. As their liege, she was legally responsible for the well being of all people on the peninsula, although she had never even visited the estate. It was just one more responsibility heaped upon the shoulders of someone already responsible for billions of GA citizens.

  After enjoying a bowl of Queelish, a Nordakian vegetable stew for which she had developed a fondness, Jenetta tried to pay for her meal. The owner adamantly refused to take payment from Jenetta. She was forced to stop offering and graciously accept his generosity. Space Command has very strict rules about accepting gifts, but permits officers to accept food gifts up to a value of ten credits from any company, organization, or individual in any GST week. The Nordakian Space Force also permits officers to accept small gifts of food, with the proviso that they not exceed a value of fifty credits in any lunar cycle. Since the Queelish was just a quarter-credit, it easily qualified for exemption from both services. However, after returning to her office Jenetta would note the small gift in her official daily log so that no charge of impropriety could ever be levied. It was so much easier when merchants let her pay, but she always had to follow the most diplomatic course.

  Speaking in Dakis, the language of Nordakia, she thanked him for extending the hospitality of his establishment. The owner beamed and told her that she was always welcome, as he pressed his closed hand to his chest and bowed his head. Jenetta smiled and touched her flattened, open hand to her chest, with her palm parallel to the ground. Her cats fell in alongside her as she turned to leave.

  Just before 1500 hours, Jenetta stopped working and began welcoming her senior staff to her office. By 1500, the entire on-duty staff of senior officers had assembled, and Jenetta spoke into her com unit, "Lori, would you come in here for a minute, please?"

  The five-foot eight-inch officer, with collar-length raven-colored hair, almond-shaped eyes, and olive skin, walked in and moved to face Jenetta, who was standing in front of her desk. "Yes, Captain?"

  "The room shall come to attention," Jenetta said loudly.

  The seated officers stood up, and all came to attention, as Lt. Ashraf's large, chestnut eyes opened a little wider. Jenetta's cats, who had been sitting comfortably in their favorite spots, also stood up, trying to determine if there was a threat to their mistress. They were usually relaxed in the presence of anyone wearing a Space Command Uniform.

  "Lieutenant Lori Elaine Ashraf," Jenetta said, "by order of Space Command Supreme Headquarters, with approval by the Galactic Alliance Council, you are immediately advanced to the rank of Lieutenant Commander." Jenetta produced the appropriate insignia from a box on her desk and replaced the lieutenant insignia that Lieutenant Ashraf was wearing on each shoulder as she said, "These were my first Lt. Commander bars, pinned on me by Admirals Holt and Margolan at Higgins SCB. If there's any luck left in them, may they share it with you as you work to achieve your personal and professional goals."

  Taking a step back, Jenetta saluted the newly promoted officer as she said, "Congratulations, Commander."

  Lieutenant Commander Ashraf returned the salute, and although speechless for a few seconds finally found her voice and said, "Thank you, Captain."

  "The room shall be at ease," Jenetta announced loudly.

  The other officers crowded around Lori to congratulate her on her promotion before starting to drift out and back to their jobs. No one ever objected to being called together for such short ceremonies because everyone appreciated receiving such recognition in the presence of their peers.

  After the room was empty of other officers, Lieutenant Commander Ashraf said, "Thank you, Captain. I didn't expect this to happen so quickly. You only mentioned it a few weeks ago."

  "You earned it, Lori. You've done a wonderful job as my aide, and I've appreciated all your hard work and dedication."

  "It's an honor to serve in your command, Captain. Oh, you have a visitor waiting."

  "Who is it?"

  "An Arrosian freighter captain. He's been waiting for another ship to arrive and accept his cargo, but they haven't shown up. Neither are they responding to hails. He's concerned."

  "Send him in, Lori."

  "Aye, Captain."

  A minute later a diminutive ship's officer entered Jenetta's office. She'd prepared herself, and was able to suppress the smile that she always felt when seeing an Arrosian or Selaxian. Their small size made them seem like children, and Jenetta idly mused if Nordakian males thought that way about Terrans. Her small, belt-mounted translator device, would immediately adjust to his language when he first spoke. It would then send a properly translated signal directly to her CT. The miniature cranial transducer, mounted subcutaneously against the outside of her skull behind her left ear, would make it sound as though someone was standing next to her, whispering the translation directly into her auditory canal.

  "Good afternoon, Captain," Jenetta said.

  "Good afternoon, Captain Carver. I'm Captain Oluthru of the freighter Gastrime. Our registry is Arrosian. I'm sorry to take you away from your busy schedule."

  "Not at all, sir. How may I assist you?"

  "My crew and I have been waiting here for over a week to meet another freighter from our home world so that we might exchange cargos. We would add their cargo to the cargo that we've already collected
for our run to Dixon, and they would take that part of our cargo destined for Arrosa. We've tried to contact the Hunaray but they aren't responding to our hails."

  "And you're afraid that the Hunaray has met with harm?"

  "Yes, as each day passes, our fears increase."

  "When did you last have contact with them?"

  "About three weeks ago. They expected to be here to greet us when we arrived. And, as I said, we've been here for a week now."

  "If they expected to be here within two weeks from their last transmission, they couldn't have been more than seven light-years away."

  "Even closer. Their top speed is Light-150. Since Arrosa is eleven light-years away, and they were halfway here, they must have been within five and a half light-years of the base. In light of the violent acts being perpetrated on my world, I'm worried that the Hunaray may have met an untimely fate."

  "What violent acts are being perpetrated against your world?"

  "Why, the acts of terrorism, of course."

  "Oh, I hadn't heard."

  "Surely you must have seen something on the news."

  "No, nothing. Nor have I heard anything through official channels. How long have the attacks been going on?"

  "Almost a year. We've been away during the entire time, but we've received a steady stream of messages from our relatives back home. I can't believe that you haven't heard anything."

  "There hasn't been anything on the news channels, nor in my briefings from Space Command Supreme Headquarters. I know that Arrosa petitioned to become part of the Galactic Alliance following the recent expansion that moved the boundary out a hundred parsecs, but we haven't established formal diplomatic contact yet. As I'm sure you're aware, we were formerly unable to do anything within the Frontier Zone except respond to pleas from ships under attack or in need of emergency assistance, and Arrosa was on the farthest edge, almost in open, galactic space. Now that your planet is included within regulated GA space, we can help, but we're still only permitted to assist planets that specifically request our help. Otherwise, we're prohibited from becoming involved in their internal affairs."

  "It's not just an internal affair. Everyone is pretty sure that the attacks are the work of the Selaxians."

  "The Selaxians? Aren't they your brethren?"

  "They were our brethren, Captain; past tense. We haven't been brethren for over a hundred years, since they began a war for independence. We speak a common language, of sorts, although colloquialisms and slang have crept into each of our languages over the past century. There are times, on space stations, when I overhear Selaxians speaking and can't figure out what they're talking about. I understand the words, but not the meanings. It's like listening to my kids talk with their friends."

  "Yes, I've heard of such situations in other cultures. I'm afraid that I don't know very much about the politics on your respective planets. I wasn't even aware of your war."

  "It wasn't our war," the captain said angrily. "It was their war. We founded the colony, transported the settlers, helped them build their towns and establish their civilizations in the wilderness of a hostile planet, and then, they rebelled. They said that we weren't treating them fairly. They claimed that they didn't have any representation in the Dregma. They even alleged that they didn't have the same rights that they'd enjoyed while on Arrosa."

  "I see. Did they?"

  "Of course."

  "How many representatives did they have in your Dregma?"

  "Uh, I'm not sure."

  "Did they have any?" Jenetta asked innocently.

  "They must have."

  "Why?"

  "Why?" Captain Oluthru repeated, as though confused that such a thing would even be questioned.

  "Yes, why must they have had representation? You said that 'no representation' was one of their grievances."

  "Every citizen on Arrosa is represented in the Dregma. It's the law on Arrosa."

  "But the people on Selax weren't on Arrosa. Perhaps no one had ever been appointed to represent their issues. Perhaps that fact left them open to abuse and unfair treatment at the hands of those who should have been helping and guiding them?"

  "I'm sure that they had representation," Captain Oluthru said with more than a hint of irritation. "Of course it all happened before I was born, but they taught us in school how we tried everything possible to maintain good relations with the colonists, and it still wasn't enough to keep them from rebelling. We generously bought everything they produced, but they claimed that the prices we established weren't allowing them enough to live. We generously sent them the products from our factories and farms, and they dressed up like pirates and destroyed the shipments without even paying for them. We did our absolute best to restore civil law and order, but they fought the poor soldiers that we graciously allowed them to house in their own homes so they'd have immediate protection. Many troops were killed during a decade of fighting because the Selaxians fought like barbarians and terrorists, instead of fighting like real soldiers. Finally, we pulled our troops out and left them to fend for themselves. We expected them to turn on each other next, but somehow they restored law and order and built a stable society. It was a miracle that they survived without the firm pressure of our gentle, guiding hand.

  "Anyway, during the past half century, we've begun to trade with them again. Their space program is still in its infancy, and we've refused to assist them in that endeavor, but they're as bright and resourceful as Arrosians. They now have a small cargo fleet able to traverse the mean fifty-two million kilometer distance between the orbit paths of our planets. They haven't built anything that can travel outside the solar system yet, but they've been hiring on with freighters servicing the planet and it's only a matter of time before they buy Light Speed technology, or develop something on their own."

  "Thank you for the brief history lesson, Captain," Jenetta said. "It was most enlightening. So who and what do you think is behind the recent terrorism attacks?"

  "I suspect that it has something to do with Isodow, a moon that circles Selax."

  "Why?"

  "A team of surveyors from our planet discovered rich ore deposits there a few years ago. A mining consortium has begun to mine the ore."

  "And why is that a problem?"

  "Selax claims that the moon is their property, simply because it revolves around their planet. Have you ever heard anything so preposterous? They're not even capable of mining the ore. If we don't mine it, it doesn't get mined."

  "Perhaps the Selaxians feel that their space program is reaching a point where they'll be in a position to mine it in a few years."

  "We never ceded rights to the moon when we gave Selax its independence. It's ours now, just as much as it was a hundred years ago when we claimed it. We have the rights of first claim."

  "I see. And you feel that this disagreement over the moon is responsible for the terrorism. Do you also think that the missing freighter is part of this dispute?"

  "What else could it be?"

  "There are many possibilities. Perhaps it's Raiders, or perhaps it's simply a mechanical problem."

  "Raiders are indeed always a possibility, although Space Command has really trimmed their operations in recent years, but I haven't heard of a Raider attack in regulated Galactic Alliance space since they tried to recover this base from you. And mechanical problems that disable both a ship's engines and communications are highly unlikely."

  "Not so unlikely as you might think. A prototype ship that I commanded suffered a massive electrical problem that disabled both our control of the ship and our IDS communications. It took weeks to get the com systems working again so that we could signal for assistance."

  "Yes, it's possible. But not likely."

  "I'll alert our ships on patrol between here and Arrosa to be on the lookout for the Hunaray. If we learn anything I'll see that you're notified immediately, Captain."

  "Thank you, Captain," he said, as he stood to leave. Almost apologetically, he added, "Sor
ry for bending your ear."

  "Not at all, Captain. As I said, I found the information to be most enlightening. I find it amazing that your government has managed to keep such a tight lid on the news of the terrorism attacks. But until a formal request for assistance is made to the GAC, there's nothing that I can do. That is, unless it has moved off-world, as you believe. But even if that's the case, my intervention is limited to extra-world activities."

  "I understand. I hope that you can help me with the Hunaray problem though."

  "We'll do our best. Good day, Captain," Jenetta said, extending her hand down to Captain Oluthru.

  * * *

  Everyone already in the council chamber jumped to his or her feet as Prime Minister Marueck strode in intently. Moving to his customary place at the center of the large table, he took his seat, allowing everyone else to sit down again without waiting for further permission. The people in the room were all senior members of the government, except for a chief aide here and there, and were used to commanding respect and obedience within their own sphere of influence. But this was the Prime Minister's circle.

  Marueck cleared his throat and began his prepared statement. "My fellow ministers, for more than a year, our home planet has been under increasing attack by terrorists. The recent attack on my person clearly shows that the terrorists have become emboldened by their successes. Our security forces have been unable to uncover the people behind the attacks, or even to identify any of the attackers. After placing explosives, the terrorists either detonate them from remote locations, or escape in the confusion caused by the explosion. No claims of credit, nor demands for political change, have been sent to us, so we're unsure of the motives behind the attacks. In the absence of precise information, we're speculating that the Selaxians are responsible. The ownership of Isodow has been a hotly contested issue for some time, and while it's inconceivable to many of our citizens that the Selaxians would engage in such provocative action, we must remember that we fought a long and bloody war with our cousins just over a hundred years ago. The close trade relations and decades of peace that our planets have shared mustn't sway us. We must begin planning our response to these unprovoked attacks."