Doctor Who_ Legacy Part 5

Lianna had wanted to object, to say that her mistress would need ministrations and company. Thalira had laughed - the Federation were sending a deep s.p.a.ce cruiser to collect her; all that she could need was on board. It would be a long journey and Lianna would not enjoy it. This Lianna could not argue with; she hated s.p.a.ce travel. Her couple of short sojourns to diplomatic meetings always resulted in a terrible sickness. The trip to Io would take nearly a week and a half. Too long for Lianna to cope with.

So she had remained, looking after the young king-designate. In a break with tradition, Thalira had remained monarch even after her male heir had been born. The few raised eyebrows this caused were nothing compared to the self-confidence it gave the queen. She knew that Tarrol would be king one day, but she still had a long life ahead of her. The boy should enjoy his boyhood before a.s.suming such an all-consuming role as Peladon's ruler.

Chancellor Gebek had made sufficient over-protective noises and it was agreed that he and some other courtiers would accompany Her Majesty to add state presence to the voyage. Lianna remembered Thalira's laughing face as she bode Lianna farewell, commenting on her loyal lady-of-the-court's stomach upsets as they set off. Lianna remembered Gebek's promise to look after their mistress. Lianna remembered her own husband, Lofan, proudly accepting the posting as one of Gebek's courtiers and wishing his wife and daughter a sad farewell.

Above all, Lianna remembered turning to the young Atissa and saying that the queen and chancellor would return safely soon. The Federation would protect them. Atissa had asked about her father and Lianna had promised that Lofan would bring her a present from Io. Atissa hadn't wanted a present. She wanted information. How the Federation kept records on planetary ancestry. How they respected the traditions of the planets under their care and protection.

Now Lianna breathed deeply, preparing herself, and pulled back the heavy, ornately decorated drape that covered the entrance to her daughter's quarters. The finely woven gold st.i.tching that outlined the face of Aggedor, the royal beast of Peladon and the symbol of their heritage, resumed its almost serene look as she pulled the drape back into place behind her.

She went through a stone doorway into the Sacred Temple. There, a huge graven statue of Aggedor took pride of place. Its face, chiselled out of the best Pel granite, seemed to stare down at her, its one horn pointing lethally upwards, tusks and fangs lining the jaw. However savage Aggedor looked, Lianna knew of the sheer beauty and docility of the real, long-extinct beast.

The last victim of Peladon's battle against Galaxy Five, it had fought and given its life to defend Queen Thalira.

Incense hung heavily in the air, itching Lianna's nostrils. She rubbed her nose and looked down at the cloaked figure kneeling before the statue.

If only you could have seen the real Aggedor,' she said, her voice wistful at the memory.

Atissa looked up. 'We must be thankful that we still have these images to remember him by. If the Federation have their way, that will no longer be so.'

Lianna sighed. It was an old argument. Indeed, she thought wryly, most arguments anyone ever had with Atissa were old. 'That is not true, daughter, and you know it. Reece merely thinks they are -' her mind searched for the relevant word. It was one Reece used a lot. 'Marketable,'

she said at last.

Atissa got up and looked her mother directly in the face. One day, when the Nic Reeces and Federations of this universe have plundered and destroyed our heritage in the name of progress, you will remember these words and regret them.' Pulling her long cloak around her, Atissa stormed back into her private chambers. Lianna went to follow, but the heavy wooden door swung closed in front of her.

Ten years ago, Atissa would have been put across her mother's knee and soundly spanked for such willful rudeness.

Ten years ago Thalira would have told her off as well.

Four years ago, Thalira suggested that Atissa should pursue a course of study - Peladon needed a high priest and royal historian. Atissa's instinctive interest in such things made her an ideal prospect.

Four years ago, Thalira had laughed and bade her loyal handmaiden farewell.

Four years ago, the news had come through about the shuttle accident two days into their return journey. A systems malfunction, the official Federation representatives had said, presenting the Federation's official commiserations to the suddenly enthroned King Tarrol. The occupants would never have known, their atmosphere would have gone in half a second and they would have died instantly.

Now it was the biennial restatement of King Tarrol's vows to ascendancy.

Twenty-six Pel years old and king of an entire planet. It was not a responsibility Lianna envied. Atissa was two years older than her liege and Geban a year younger. Three young heads upon whom the fate of an entire planet and its people rested.

Lianna was suddenly very tired. The message she wanted to pa.s.s to her daughter lost its importance and she left the chamber via the rock-hewn doorway to the right of Aggedor. She moved the flambeau holder that opened the door, and did the same to another on the other side to close it.

Feeling suddenly despondent, she headed back down the gloomy tunnel to her quarters. Empty since the loss of Lofan. Empty since Atissa moved into the Sacred Temple. Empty since Lianna had realized, with the knowledge that only a mother can have about her offspring, that the gap between them was insurmountable. And above all, empty since her life ceased to have any real meaning. Until now. Now, she was involved with something that might have, to some extent at least, healed the breach with Atissa. Lianna sighed as she entered.

Somehow, deep, deep down, she doubted it.

Townsend cursed loudly.

Lambert and Sadler had managed to get into the Federation shuttlefield on j.a.petus without being spotted, but the moment he and Cooper had tried to follow, the alarms had gone off.

'So much for subtlety!' Cooper snapped, shooting Townsend a look of desperation. He indicated for her to go left, while he went right. Federation forces were not renowned for their intelligence and Townsend hoped the old jokes had a vein of truth in them. Seconds later, Cooper's capture proved the jokes wrong.

Without hesitation, Cooper had surrendered. Townsend nodded to himself - she was keeping to regulations. If only Sadler and Lambert stayed low, the operation might be salvageable. So might their reputations. And their fee.

As Cooper was being led towards the nearest hut, two Federation troopers hung back. They're expecting more of us, Townsend decided. Oh, what the h.e.l.l - there's only ten or eleven of them at most.

Trooper Edwards' attention was caught by Trooper Wyman, who was staring intently towards the undergrowth near the shuttlefield entrance.

Their infra-red scanners had shown four life forms in total. Two already inside the field, two elsewhere. They'd got one, three more to go. He hoped that the commander's plan, to make the intruders think they'd given up, would work. Edwards thought was how unlikely that was - these were probably highly trained mercenaries; certainly the woman's weaponry indicated they were no casual joyriders looking for a fix. He turned to pa.s.s his comments on to Trooper Wyman when his companion's head vanished in a red blur.

Without a second's hesitation Edwards was on his belly, rolling and firing into the bushes. He was aware of the other troopers dashing out of the hut, firing behind him. Edwards caught sight of a movement behind the shuttlefield entrance and fired towards that. In reply, blaster shots came back, making plate-sized holes in the dry ground around him.

Commander Rudzka shouted her orders out and the troopers spread, making themselves hard-to-hit targets. Edwards took a second out to mentally thank Rudzka for her strenuous training - no one had ever believed they'd needed the training, now they were wrong. Seconds later Rudzka and her adjutant Lieutenant Payne were on the ground a few metres either side of Edwards. He pointed to the bushes; he knew at least one mercenary was there. Payne nodded and started to roll right, towards Wyman's headless corpse. Rolling over behind the body, using it as a sort of shield, Payne began strafing the shrubbery. There was a yell and the firing from the bushes stopped. Rudzka immediately turned her attention towards the shuttlefield entrance where three troopers were edging their way along the mesh fence, expertly dodging the blaster fire from within.

Edwards glanced around him. Four of his comrades seemed to have joined Wyman, and Payne was rolling towards each body in turn, checking for pulses. Evidently he found none and he got up on his haunches. Edwards grimaced Payne was an easy target like that, but it implied he trusted his troops to keep the blaster fire away.

Less than two seconds later, Payne's dead body was hurled forwards.

Edwards spun round, firing wildly, and saw the girl they'd captured earlier.

She had been under the guard of Trooper Kyte. d.a.m.n, Kyte was probably in pieces inside the hut. d.a.m.n - Edwards had been planning to ask Kyte out the next weekend. d.a.m.n! d.a.m.n! The girl flung herself sideways, and Edwards' fire raked through the hut. In his peripheral vision, he saw Rudzka running left, dropping and rolling to avoid being an easy target.

Edwards did the same, but in the opposite direction. The girl couldn't fire at two people at once.

Evidently the girl considered Rudzka a more dangerous target, concentrating her fire in the commander's direction. Rudzka fired a volley in the hut's direction, but the girl was a faster roller. She came up, firing wildly and Rudzka dropped, her last shots going erratically upwards.

Edwards had the girl in his sights. As he squeezed his blaster trigger, his thoughts turned to sheer hatred. 'This is for Samantha Kyte,' he spat. As he fired, he shuddered. Everything had suddenly gone cold. Freezing. His hand shook, the blast smacking into the ground in front of him. He felt the whole world tip - he seemed to be falling, down to a dark pit . . .

Townsend lowered his blaster. The trooper ahead of him fell face-down, Townsend's blast having shredded open his back. Cooper looked up and ran towards him.

Lambert and Sadler were pulling open the shuttlefield gates, kicking aside the corpses of the troopers they had killed.

'Well, that's what I call one h.e.l.l of a c.o.c.k-up,' said Cooper, veering towards the gates.

Townsend slowly wandered over, staring at the bodies around him, trying to detect any signs of life. Satisfied that there were no survivors, he joined the others.

'Well, that's what I call fun,' laughed Lambert.

Sadler looked in mock horror at her partner. I bet you were a real bully at school,' she said.

'School? What school?' Lambert turned to Townsend, awaiting orders.

'No time for fun, people.' Townsend pointed to the shuttle bay. 'Lambert, your technical skills are needed. And be quick - I expect another delivery of troopers soon.'

Lambert nodded and headed off towards the nearest of three parked shuttles. Sadler following.

Cooper looked ready to follow, but Townsend tapped her arm.

'Yes?'

Townsend tried a smile. Not very successfully. 'How about "thank you"?'

'Why? I knew you were playing possum. One of your oldest tricks.' She jerked her arm away and headed off after the others. Townsend stood and shook his head. Some people . . .

Seven minutes later, three convoys of troopers, along with four laser cannons, roared towards the shuttlefield. Troopers rushed around like excited ants, covering the perimeter fence from every conceivable angle and waiting.

Two minutes went by, a shuttle took off and as it attained five hundred feet, the laser cannons opened fire. The troopers ducked as molten metal and plastic rained down around them.

After clearing up the bodies of their ma.s.sacred comrades, the contingent left, leaving just a skeleton staff to administrate the area.

Half an hour on and a second shuttle took off, ignoring the futile hand-blaster shots that accompanied it from the troopers. Seconds later the craft zoomed out of sight and away from j.a.petus.

All right, take the main feed from number three, then. What the h.e.l.l's your problem?' Tugging on a loose thread from her thick woollen jumper in frustration, and noting with some distaste that the hole in the cuff got bigger, Ker'a'nol stomped angrily away from one of the holocamera technicians. 'Cretin,' she spat angrily.

'Problems?'

Ker'a'nol looked up. "Yeah. And you're the biggest right now. What are you doing here, anyway? Think I can't run my own news crew without you holding my tail, yeah?' Underlining her anger, the short grey tail that poked out of the back of her slacks flicked.

The human her annoyance was aimed at placed a hand on his chest, a false look of total innocence and hurt crossing his middle-aged face. 'My dearest Keri, I wouldn't dare suggest such a thing. I'd like to return home with all my bodily extremities still in place.'

Keri rubbed her face and snout with both hands and then threw her immediate superior a withering look. 'Listen, Neal, I've been all over this galaxy. I've covered atrocities on the Nematodian Border, I've lived with Orion android warriors on Bala and spent ten months of my life pretending to be a Rigellon's bond-slave, all to get the best stories for GFTV-3. Rest a.s.sured, I don't need your . . . somewhat large bulk, getting in the way of me covering a blasted feudal monarchy event. Now sod off and let me do my job!'

Neal Corry smiled and shook his head as the fiery Pakhar stomped off, swearing at any of the camera or sound technicians that got in her way. He turned to Jav, the Pakhar operator of holocamera two. 'How long's she been in such a charming mood?'

Jav shrugged. 'Forever? My first time working with her. Can't say I'm impressed.'

Corry paused. I thought you covered Operation "Galactic Storm" with her?'

Jav looked at Corry for a moment before replying. err . . . no. Wasn't me.'

He wandered away before Corry could say anything else.

'Problems?'

A familiar question from a familiar voice. Corry found himself smiling even before he turned around.

'Reece? Nic Reece?' Corry grabbed the newcomer's hand and shook it somewhat over-enthusiastically.

Reece nodded and extracted his left hand, flexing the fingers subconsciously to try and get the blood running again. The Federation's Earth representative to Peladon smiled at the GFTV-3 producer. It must have been a long time, Neal. Good to see you.'

Neal Corry waved his hands dramatically around him, almost beheading a pa.s.sing sound technician. 'Wonderful place you've got here, Nicholas. Any good bars?'

'On Peladon? Do me a favour. There's a mad woman here, the king's high priestess who, given half a chance, would disembowel us and offer our entrails as a sacrifice just for suggesting alcohol was on the planet.'

'Good thing I brought a crate of bourbon, eh!' Corry laughed, and slapped Reece on the back.

Reece looked around furtively. 'Let's go and discuss this in private, old man,' and he led Corry away.

Their retreating forms were watched by the GFTV-3 technicians.

Holocameraman Jav gave Reece an extra long, hard look before returning to work.

Geban watched as Keri approached him. He still couldn't quite get used to the idea of what to him seemed like a giant plain-rat running a Federation communications system. Still, she'd requested an audience, and it was his job to greet her.

'Well, do I get to see the king?'

She went straight to the point. Geban smiled to himself. Thankfully Atissa wasn't present - such ignorance of protocol would have caused her to go screeching to Aggedor's spirit for days. Then again, that did have its advantages . . .

'Good evening, Ms Keri. His Majesty, King Tarrol of Peladon has agreed to see you. Before we enter, may I ask if I can get you any refreshment?'

Keri looked Geban straight in the eye, her whiskers twitching furiously and her snout slightly wrinkled. 'Yeah. A good sonic shower to get your blasted trisilicate dust out of my fur and clothes. And some heating and light down in those tunnels. Yeah.'

Geban nodded at each complaint. 'The trisilicate I can do nothing about, I'm afraid. It is part of this planet's structure and although most of it has long since been mined out, trace elements are still within the atmosphere.

Our king is looking into ways of increasing the heating within the tunnels.

When the Federation removed their mining operations, they also removed their humidity controls. The lighting cannot be improved - our generators cannot run much more or the dwelling areas will be deprived. We did have more but -'

'Yeah, I know. When the Federation miners moved out, they took the phosphoric lighting controls. Blasted miners. Blasted Federation. How about you kick my boss off planet - that'll do for now!'

Geban took a moment to realize who she meant. Then he smiled. 'Ah, the .

. . extrovert Mister Corry. With the alcohol on his skimmer.'

'He's got alcohol? On Peladon? Oh, wonderful, how to get us all kicked off.

What is the IQ rating of a holostation boss, eh Geban? Minus ten million by the look of it. Yeah.'

'Not to worry. So long as it stays on his skimmer and our high priestess doesn't find out, I think we're safe.'

Keri looked up at the chancellor eagerly. 'No, please, tell her! It'll get that git off your planet and my back. And sacked with any luck.'

I thought he owned GFTV-3?'

Keri nodded. 'He does. It was just wishful thinking, yeah. Now, where's the king?'

Unconsciously echoing Corry's sentiments, Geban found he liked the fiery little Pakhar. She was a refreshing change to the formal Federation visitors Peladon usually had.

Slowly the chancellor opened the throne room doors and King Tarrol looked up from his throne. As Keri entered her whole demeanour changed, and Geban noted another positive attribute to the Pakhar. She curtsied and deferred to the king most properly.

'May I have permission to address the king?'

Tarrol nodded and waved her forward.

'My most gracious thanks to Your Majesty, King Tarrol of Peladon, for granting me an audience at this most busy time,' she continued. I hope I will not take up more than a few moments of your valuable time.'

Geban listened for a trace of sarcasm or insincerity in her voice, but there didn't appear to be any. He caught his king's eye. Tarrol had also heard of Keri's reputation, and he too was clearly impressed by her. The king motioned her forward.

'My Lady Ker'a'nol, you are a welcome visitor to my throne room. Your reputation of bravery and-' he quickly tried to think of the correct phrase, 'your investigative journalism has reached even Peladon. It is our honour to have you as a guest.'