VECTOR ONE, BOOK ONE: SET-UP

CHAPTER FIVE::

	Officially, the Galactic War had been a three-sided conflict,
though in reality much of the fighting had been between the Tralkan Empire
and the ruthless Ghety Union.  The then fledgling Planetary Alliance
Republic had been subdued by the Union with frightening swiftness, and it
was only because the Empire allied itself with the Republic that the
P.A.R. avoided extermination altogether and remained a player in the
brutal battles that followed.
	The Ghety Union's soldiers had been strong and determined
fighters, but the Union's acts of genocide on the worlds they conquered
ultimately proved to be their undoing, as the wrath of the Empire and
P.A.R. were finally brought to bear on Ghety itself, in the form of the
Empire's highly secret weapon: the Orbital Pulse Cannon.  This immense gun
was capable of firing pulser beams which had much the same effect on a
planet's surface as a small asteroid impact.  Ghetian intelligence had
suspected a secret weapon, but they were unprepared for this, and called
in nearly all of their own fleets to keep the Empire from parking the
behemoth in Ghetian orbit.  This battle became known as the Charge on
Ghety, and was without a doubt the fiercest, most glorious fight in the
entire war.  The Empire fought their way through the Ghetian defenses, and
finally did manage to park the OPC in orbit, though the weapon was only
fired three times before a Ghetian heavy cruiser rammed it, destroying
both vessels.
	But three times was enough.  Each shot had completely erased a
major city from existence, leaving a crater visible from space and
creating shockwaves that leveled an area twice as large in radius.  The
debris clogged the atmosphere, and the year that followed would have no
spring or summer.  The Ghetians were left starving and exhausted, the
battle to destroy the OPC having cost them most of their fleets and
manpower.
	Surrender was not long in coming after that.  The Union was
dissolved by treaty, its worlds divided among the Republic and the Empire,
while Ghety itself was split into two occupation zones.  The eastern
continents fell under Imperial rule, while the Republic took control of
the Western hemisphere.
	And it was here, in the western city of Shevrastov, that a major
rally was now taking place.  The city maintained a large open square in
the center of town for demonstrations such as this, and today it was
packed from corner to corner with people.  Here and there, a few flags
bearing the black swords-and-stars sigil of the Ghety Union were being
waved, mostly by old-timers who did not understand that it was not the
goal of this demonstration to resurrect the Union or its atrocities.
This was unfortunate patriotism that the League for Ghetian Independence
could have done without, but being humble was never part of Ghetian
nature, and so it really couldn't be helped.
	Dassni Shive, a statuesque brown-haired woman and the leader of
the LGI, stepped up to the podium at the square's north face.  Presently
the crowd quieted down; she pressed her optic lenses higher on the bridge
of her nose, and began to speak.
	"On this, the ninth anniversary of the end of the Galactic War, it
is time for a question to be asked: 'When will the victors forgive the
vanquished?'"  She paused while a round of shouts and applause played
itself out, then continued.  "The Ghety Union is no more.  It has been
gone for nearly a decade, and yet the Planetary Alliance Republic and the
Tralkan Empire continue to enforce direct rule upon its capital planet, as
if the slightest taste of freedom will bring the Union back!  We, the
Ghetians, deserve more credit than that.  We deserve the right to rule
ourselves.  We deserve to be free!"
	Her grip on the podium had tightened, and she raised a fist to
pound its surface as she raised her voice even further: "AND GHETY *WILL*
BE FREE!!"
	The crowd let out a roar that could be heard throughout the city,
and which lasted for nearly two minutes.
	The speech continued at a more sedate pace after that, Dassni
addressing the need for both Eastern and Western Ghetians to unite in
common purpose and goal if they were to have any hope of ruling themselves
ever again.  Her words were regularly punctuated by shouts and applause
from the crowd, and the occasional wave of a Union flag.  The flags
bothered Dassni more than she would admit, knowing the poor publicity they
would provoke, but at this stage there was nothing to be gained by
dampening any Ghetian's patriotism, misguided though it might be.  Better
to rally the full force and spirit of the Ghetian people now, and fine
tune it once independence was theirs once more.
	In due course her words were spoken in full, to the tune of
thunderous applause and cheering from the people.  Thanking her listeners
and leaving her lieutenants to handle the certain influx of applicants for
LGI membership, Dassni made her way out of the square and toward her
gravcar, already aware of the platoons of newspeople, both Imperial and
Republican, closing in like a pack of bloodhounds.  Regrettably there was
no avoiding them today, as they were between her location and the car, and
she knew what they were certain to ask about, so she mentally sighed and
called forth the answers she had rehearsed in her mind.
	"Miss Shive!" the INN reporter at the head of the pack called out
as the swarm of people and antigrav camera drones nearly surrounded her.
"Your speech made no mention of the recent wave of violence on the Eastern
Continents or on Imperial worlds formerly part of the Union.  It's been
suggested that this violence has been inspired, if not outright directed,
by the LGI."
	"The LGI is not a terrorist organization," Dassni replied calmly, 
not breaking her stride, forcing the newspeople to keep pace.
"We oppose violence as a solution in most cases.  I don't like to see
innocent people get hurt, but as I understand it, the targets of these
attacks are far from innocent."
	"So then you -do- approve of it?"
	"Whether or not I approve of it makes no difference.  When the
Ghetians are being held prisoner on their own planets, violence will
result."  She pushed her lenses up again, as if to emphasize their
presence and purpose.  "We're not the type to give in without resistance."
	The reporter was unwilling to let it go at that.  "So what exactly
-is- your view?"
	Dassni was silent for a moment, considering.  "Let's just say,"
she finally said.  "That each act of violence taxes the resources of one
of the men most responsible for this mess.  I'm sorry, I have to go now."

	"Exactly who she meant is not certain--"
	"Off," Corve snapped, and the desk monitor went dark.  He glowered
at the screen in silence for a few moments.  "That's it, Dassni.  Let's
see how far you can push me."  Ghetians were adept at rubbing others the
wrong way, and Dassni was Ghetian to the core.  Corve might have respected
that if he didn't know for a fact that Dassni was deliberately trying to
piss him off.  The woman was becoming an increasing thorn in his side, and
he knew that sooner or later he would have to find some way of getting rid
of her, with or without proof that the LGI was behind the terrorism
plaguing the Empire.
	There was a knock at the office door then.  "Enter," Corve called
out, and Jhiro stepped in, calm and collected as always.  No one had ever
seen the man raise his voice or come even remotely close to losing his
temper, and Corve was quite certain that it would take setting off a
fission bomb in his presence to upset him.  Which was good, because in
this business, a stable lieutenant was highly important.
	"Jhiro," Corve acknowledged him.  "We'll need to put all
LGI-related matters at the top of the priority list."
	"Done," Jhiro replied as he took his seat, removing the datapad he
carried from under his arm and making a note on it.  "Most of the priority
items are already there anyway."
	"Good," Corve nodded, extracting a similar datapad from his desk
and activating it, bringing up the same information on his display.
"Let's get the priorities taken care of."
	"Yes sir.  The governor of Planet Falton is complaining about the
latest terrorist incident.  He wants you to send a division of the IP
Guard."
	"Another?" Corve arched an eyebrow.  Then again, Falton had been
one of the most heavily targeted spots in this undeclared war.  "I suppose
he's got a point.  We'll move the forces from the Dilendi Asteroids.
There's very little left there to guard anyway.  Tell the governor to
expect the new division in ten Imperial days."
	"Very well," Jhiro nodded, making a note on his datapad and paging
down to the next order of business.  "The head of Region 6 is complaining
of corruption in some of the local precincts on Planet Gartos."
	Corve was annoyed, but refrained from letting any further
anger slip through.  "Put the Security Division on it.  Find out who's
corrupting them and then kill the lot of them.  That includes the
officers.  The only corruption here is going to come through me."
	"Understood, sir.  The head of Tralkan Spacelines wants to know
what you're doing about the pirates."
	For the first time that day a smile crept onto Corve's face.  "If
only he knew," he chuckled.  "Next."
	"Yes sir," Jhiro replied, still all business.  "The governor of--"
	At that moment the office door burst open and two people barged
in.  The first was a wild-eyed man in a lab coat who looked as though he
hadn't practiced personal hygiene in at least a week, the second was a
woman who was trying unsuccessfully to restrain the unkempt scientist.
	"CORVE!" he declared, loud enough for the entire floor to hear.
"I need to TALK to you!  NOW!"
	"i tried to stop him honest i did," the secretary pleaded in a
frightened voice, in truth more afraid of Corve than the man she was
attempting to restrain.  "but he just wouldn't listen and kept screaming
and screaming and i tried to hold him back i really did but i couldn't and
he just wouldn't stop--"
	"It's all right, Miss Yhu," Corve replied calmly, not looking up
from his datapad.  "You may leave."
	"Um, yes, sir.  I--I really am sorry and, um... I'm going..." she
said, and quickly departed, visibly relieved.
	"ALONE!" the scientist snapped, glaring in Jhiro's direction.
	"You know better than that."
	"Right, of course, how stupid of me!" he threw up his hands, his
voice dripping with sarcasm.  After calming himself, he continued.  "Do
you remember my last memo on the 'terrorists' that blew up the Imperial
Research station in Tralkista?  That is, if you ever read it.  You never
acknowledged that you did."
	"Yes, it was very entertaining.  Some nonsense about the
perpetrators being alien life forms, I recall?"
	"It's NOT nonsense!" the scientist shouted, his anger returning.
"They're not zhaiman!  They call themselves 'humans', and they are -not-
us."
	"Dr. Raal," Corve said slowly and evenly, with the kind of
patience parents used on small children.  "You are one of my most talented
scientists.  You are also a few cards short of a trick, which is why
you're working for me and not for the military or the private sector.  I
suggest you go back to perfecting the Vector Process and forget about the
little green men from another galaxy."
	"I HAVE perfected the Process, you dolt!" Raal snapped, whipping a
vial out of his jacket.  "Look at this!  It's a vial of their blood!  It's
RED, not dark violet like ours!"
	Corve examined the vial, not looking particularly impressed, and
carelessly tossed it back to Raal, who snatched it out of the air as if it
were a particularly deadly explosive chemical.  "Nice wine.  Recent
vintage?"
	"It IS their blood!!" the scientist roared.  "Would you like me to
drag one in here and butcher him for you?!"
	"Not really.  I'm not that interested."
	Raal fumed silently for a moment, wondering how in all the hells
he was going to get the damned fool to listen to what he had to say.  Then
an opportunity presented itself as his eyes fell on Corve's datapad, which
he had set down at the edge of the desk.  He snatched it up before either
Corve or Jhiro could react, tore open the battery case and removed the
small power cell contained within.  He then uncapped the blood vial and
poured its contents into the cavity, replaced the cover, and sealed it
with some heavy-duty tape.
	This had certainly gotten Corve's attention.  "This better be
good," he growled, the glow from his cybernetic eye seeming to grow a bit
more intense.
	Raal handed the pad back to Corve, pressing the power switch as he
did so.  "Look."
	The datapad was going through its startup sequence.  Corve and
Jhiro were both understandably stunned.
	"It's... it's operating?!"
	"Yes, and it will keep operating.  Forever." Raal said flatly.
"That blood has been energized to Vector 1.  The theories were right: the
blood is now not only a capacitor for power but a collector.  It collects
ambient radiation in several known forms and in many more unknown forms,
stores it, and can be made to release it when needed.
	"Now, do you want to see the specimens?"
	Corve remained silent for several seconds more, his eyes on the
fully operational datapad, a whole slew of new options and possibilities
vying for attention in his mind.  After some deliberation, he finally
spoke: "No.  No, I don't think I should see them.  Stay by your comm, Dr.
Raal; I'll contact you sometime tomorrow."

                               * * *

	"GODDAMMIT, I'M SICK OF THIS!  Where ARE you, you stupid SHITS?!
LET US OUT OF HERE!!"
	"How many tantrums does that make, Trevor?" John asked mildly from
his seated position on the cell floor.
	"Six," Trevor replied.  He was lying on his back and staring up at
the ceiling.  "Very evenly spaced, too.  I've been counting."
	"You--you're making JOKES?!?  You think this is FUNNY?!" Steve
railed, stunned.
	"Sit down, Steve, you're not helping any," Ron advised from his
corner of the second bunk.  Trying to communicate with their captors had
proven totally ineffective, even after they had hooked him up to a machine
which had essentially crammed their alien language into his mind.  He was
still trying to make sense of all the speech patterns, never mind the
phonetic writing system they used here; he wondered if they would have
fared any better had John received the treatment, since his native
language was also a phonetic one.
	"HELPING?!  All you guys do is sit around and WAIT!  For crying
out loud, do SOMETHING?"
	Ron glared at him, his patience beginning to fray.  "Like what,
Steve?  Scream?  Shout?  Wave our fists in the air?  Maybe if we follow
your lead and all throw tantrums, they'll come to their senses and let us
out, is that what you're saying?"
	Steve's hands balled into fists.  "Damn you, I oughta--"
	For the first time in several hours, Becky looked up, a very tired
and angry expression on her face as she glared at him.  "Yeah, Steve, why
don't you just beat the shit out of him?  Then they'll open the doors to
collect the blood."
	The wind was instantly knocked out of Steve's sails by this
comment, and it would have silenced the others had they been speaking.
They had all been through a rough time since the accident in the lab, but
none of the four men could even try to comprehend the sheer hell which
Becky had suffered.  Trevor closed his eyes tightly, John felt it very
important to inspect the flooring between his shoes, and Steve looked as
if he wanted to crawl into a hole somewhere and die.
	"I... I'm sorry..." he fumbled.
	A smile returned to Ron's face at that.  "Apology accepted, Steve.
Now sit down, okay?"
	Steve moved to do so, but was right back on his feet again as a
whirring noise captured their attention.  "What's that?" John asked,
looking around for the source of the nearby sound.
	"Something's happening," Ron replied, also looking around.
	In the next second, panels on the ceiling of the cell slid
downward, revealing several small nozzles which spewed a dark green gas
into the cell.  In a matter of seconds all struggles within its confines
had ceased as the five humans fell to the floor.

	Over the course of the next Imperial day, several things happened
very quickly and quietly.
	As soon as the humans were confirmed to be unconscious, a group of
technicians handpicked by Dr. Raal rushed in, concealing the humans' faces
with hoods.  The humans were quickly ferried to unmarked gravtrucks, which
in turn made their way out of Tralkista under unseen but extremely heavy
guard.
	In the meantime, Dr. Jans Khadrium was found dead in his gravcar,
apparently the victim of a botched carjacking.  Two other members of the
Kanes hospital staff also met with unfortunate accidents, and several
injured personnel from the Zaras research center suffered severe
surgical complications and met with unfortunate ends as well.  Risa
Bedri's career, in contrast, took a sudden and dramatic turn for the
better as she was promoted to Special Agent status, assigned to the task
of overseeing and dealing with the growing threat from the terrorism
believed to be sponsored by the LGI, and well away from the drudgery of
Tralkanian desk jobs.
	By nightfall, the convoy had arrived in the city of Nivras, where
the IP's most secret and carefully guarded hot lab was quartered.  It was
here that some of the most difficult and dangerous experiments on the
Vector Process had been conducted by Aran Raal and his staff, and it would
be here that the theories concerning the long-elusive Vector rating of 1.0
would finally be put to the test.
	At midnight, the Vector-Slaving machinery was activated, and all
the theories were proven to be correct, five times over.