and loathing. Amongst others he was an enemy in their own uniform. Marrhus Lokkrien was alone, horribly and frighteningly alone. He hated the loneliness and spent every waking hour working, rather than face the terror of his own company.
Only the thought that someday soon Billy Caudwell and the Alliance Fleet would sweep away the Empress kept the hope alive that, one day, he would see his family again. For now, he had to lie low. If the Bardomil Government even suspected that he was still alive, then all of his family would be summarily executed. He had to remain anonymous, silent and hidden to protect his family. In Fleet communications he was simply a code name: Enigma. He had to avoid combat situations or any possible activities that would expose his true identity or leave him vulnerable to capture. He hated it. He was a Bardomil, brought up to fight and to be in the thick of the action. And, there was plenty of action out there on the Alliance’s rapidly expanding frontiers for him to be involved in. Instead, he knuckled down and worked the facts and figures, made the decisions and helped the burgeoning Alliance as best he could with his expertise and experience.
As he worked through the Performance Folios of the potential Second Admiral candidates, the faint buzz of an alarm indicated that someone was standing on the pressure pad beyond the door and requesting admission to his Quarters. Looking at his desk-monitor, Lokkrien saw the unmistakable figure of Senior Intelligence Officer Karap Sownus shuffling nervously beyond the grey opaque force-shielding that formed the door of his Private Quarters. Checking the Time-Keeper on the monitor Lokkrien realised that the short, squat Thexxian Intelligence Officer’s duty shift would have ended several hours previously.
It also surprised Lokkrien that any Thexxian, a species hunted almost to extinction by the Bardomil, would be even contemplating speaking to him in an off-duty capacity. But, Lokkrien considered, Sownus was very different to the vast majority of Thexxians who, daily, went through the motions and saluted him with unspoken hatred and loathing in their eyes. Sownus was a professional, always formally correct, always matter of fact and always guarded with his opinions. He said very little, but when he did speak people paid attention.
“Come!” Lokkrien intoned passing his hand over the small white plate built into his desk that operated the door mechanism.
An instant later, the opaque force-shielding became transparent; exposing Officer Sownus and clearing to allow him entry.
“I hope I’m not disturbing you, sir?” the unusually nervous Sownus piped up as he entered the room.
As soon as he cleared the doorway, the force-shielding automatically reinstated itself.
“Officer Sownus, come in, this is most unexpected. What can I do for you at this late hour?” Lokkrien dropped into the politely formal routines of senior Officer to subordinate; but, he was unable to hide the edge of surprise and curiosity in his voice.
“I know, I’m sorry, sir; but, I thought you might want to see this,” Sownus replied waddling forward towards Lokkrien’s work desk.
Having spent his early years as part of the Thexxian Exodus, fleeing from the Bardomil, the lack of proper nutrition had caused the bones of his lower legs to bow outwards. As he had grown to adulthood, the weakness in his lower legs had caused problems when he walked. This left Sownus with a strange almost waddling gait that for some was a source of mirth and amusement. Marrhus Lokkrien, however, was not one of those cruel and mocking individuals. Lokkrien knew a good, competent and efficient Intelligence Officer when he saw one. And, Karap Sownus was one of the best he had ever known.
“What is it, Officer Sownus?” the puzzled and confused Lokkrien asked his eyes drawn to the pink folio file in Sownus’ hand.
“It’s a low-level intercept from a local civilian broadcast on Bardan,” Sownus
Learning to Kill: Stories