Chapter 7: “Operation: Rockrat”
Bel-Haggel had supplied more than enough detail to enable an incision-like removal of all that was required. Indeed, the gynum was retrieved with no notice at all, silently snatched in the night from the seemingly endless, jagged, slime sea shoreline. The bosar, likewise, could have been removed, ship and all, before there would be time for even a general alarm.
But this was not what Valkarr wanted.
There were four stages to the execution phase of the operation: infiltrate, paralyze, confront, evacuate. Simple really, except for the confrontation. Bel-Haggel was essential in every phase leading up to the face-off, but could not be trusted to be present at the scene itself. “Get me that far,” Valkarr had told him, “and I promise no harm will come to your lady.”
Some shooting would be necessary.
The advance team’s intelligence network was quietly in place at the end of Day Two. At midnight there was a territory-wide power blackout. All palace emergency generators were disabled; save one, which was reduced to light power only. The interior team would have ten minutes secure; five marginal. By then, exterior backups for the immobilized palatial troops would become a factor.
The Priestess, Yeokalani, lay floating in her nightly ritual bath, eyes closed, drifting in the rhythms of orgasmic ecstasy, when the motion stopped.
Raising her head, sitting up on her hip-deep ledge, she looked curiously down to the knee-deep section for her manservant. He was gone.
Startled and unusually frightened, she jumped to her feet on the shallow pool ledge. Spinning around, she was firmly grasped and passionately kissed. Then, just as suddenly, she was pushed backward into the pool with a splash.
“You forgot to kiss me goodbye,” Valkarr said heartily.
As she stood, the naked, dripping woman’s eyes widened with disbelief. She froze in shock upon recognition.
This was what he wanted. Exactly.
The woman was petrified as Valkarr casually continued, “I see you’ve taken good care of my things. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your pulling my ship out of the slime like that, you really saved my ass.
“I know you’re not interested in my cargo, and since you’re clearly bored by me, Your Highness, I’ll be on my way so that you may continue your bath.
“Sorry about the pleasure-giver, I’d love to sub…but I’m a little pressed for time.”
Valkarr lightly clicked his heels, gently bowed, then turned as if to leave, adding, “Your talents are really wasted on your consorts here, you know. A gal like you ought to go someplace nice, get some culture. If you ever do break out and happen by the Bellran system, stop in at the fourth planet and ask for Valkarr.”
With an unhurried about-turn, and the gait of a leisurely stroll, Valkarr left the terrified, speechless woman to rejoin his waiting strike group.
Sufa kept a watchful eye on Bel-Haggel as Valkarr stepped from the sanctuary. “Two minutes ahead of schedule,” the Apprentice noted as the four man party entered the lift to the shuttle pad.
Before the door could close, the shaft shook violently as the entire palace was rocked to its foundation by a tremendous deafening blast.
Not completely flattened by the explosion, Valkarr steadied himself by holding the jammed tube door, barely able to see through the falling rubble and dense smoke. His wristcom flashed red.
“What’s going on up there?” Valkarr shouted through his communicator as there was a momentary pause in the quaking. Then, a second jolt jerked him from his hold, throwing him on his back to the floor of the antechamber.
Faldon answered, “The Dacoomans are attacking the palace with what looks to be maybe two divisions, one for the surface, the other seems to be hanging back as off-world support. Somebody on their side was really on their toes. Are you OK?”
Valkarr got signals from all his team members, who had already recovered and were checking their instruments for signs of chamber penetration.
“All interior personnel fine. I doubt if the same can be said for our transport. Judging from the ceiling here, I would say we probably lost our roof support. What do you show?”
Again, the shattering explosion of undeflected phasers rattled the fortress. Yeokalani stumbled, coughing and groping, from her Most Holy Place; still naked, still dripping.
When she saw Bel-Haggel, she screamed and cursed as she began picking up building fragments and hurling them at him. Valkarr reflexively zapped her into unconsciousness.
Faldon quickly coordinated the reports from the remaining ground crews and gave his synopsis:
“Roofcraft and pilot destroyed. Three surviving roof-team members implementing Evacuation Plan C. Base-Unit 3 and the Red Generator team are making for pickup point J-7. Suggest you do same.
“Indications are: you still have three usable, non-mechanical corridors.
“Recommendation for your group is: Evacuation Plan C, third variation.
“We’ll deflect the bombardment while you guys get it together; as long as that’s less than five minutes. Enemy landing imminent. Repeat, enemy landing imminent.”
Bel-Haggel had rushed to the collapsed High Priestess and was holding her; her head cradled in his arms.
“Bring her!” ordered Valkarr as he motioned for Kelmaran to take the point; then, shaking Bel-Haggel’s shoulder, “Come on, big guy, move! Let’s go!”
There was a look of mild surprise from Sufa as the huge former manservant lofted the limp Holybody over his shoulder. Confused, but readily obedient, the guard took up the third position, behind Valkarr.
The loss of the roof support craft led to a variation that was one of five well-rehearsed scenarios. The Karaoolians of the palace were still knocked out from the phaserous gas, to which the raiders were immunized for an extra half hour.
Alarms were going off everywhere, but the only impedance factor provided by the entire Holy Guard was that some of them had to be stepped over.
Though lit, the passageway visibility was poor due to the dense fog of plaster dust, an unforeseen element, which caused considerable coughing, and had eyes watering from the irritation by the time “Exit 2” (the main palace security station) was reached.
There was shooting going on here.
Heavy blaster and phaser fire could be heard through the shield door as Kelmaran punched the code to open. As if on cue, with the pressing of the last button the exterior firing stopped and the door slid rapidly upward.
The courtyard grounds between the palace and the temple were bathed by the bright lights of four hovering escort craft which held a secure perimeter while the last twelve IGCC employees on the planet ran up the ramp of the waiting Delirium Plus.
Valkarr, as expedition leader, was the last to set foot off.
As he cast a parting, surveying glance toward the Temple of Listra, he looked above its magnificent crystal-topped dome to Karaool’s green moon. Between the two, there appeared to be an intense meteor shower; the invading ships, blazing streaks in the starry deep purple sky.
“I see a sign in the heavens,” said Valkarr into his wristcom, tapping out the EOJ code as he walked backward up the closing ramp of the already rising ship. “It says to get the hell outta here!”
The ramp had barely closed when the Dacoomans hit the palace with their best. Sections of the temple were ablaze, and Yeokalani’s bath chamber had been inundated in flames of bright yellow-orange, plumes of black oil-rich smoke towering above.
The blue, lightning-like flashes of electrolytic poisitrons flickered within the dark billows—the calling card of Lumwadian assassins. Their prey was gone, however.
There was considerable flak and heavy buffeting as the Combine ships streaked skyward through the crossfire.
The execution phase of “Operation: Rockrat” was over.
<- Chapter 6
But this was not what Valkarr wanted.
There were four stages to the execution phase of the operation: infiltrate, paralyze, confront, evacuate. Simple really, except for the confrontation. Bel-Haggel was essential in every phase leading up to the face-off, but could not be trusted to be present at the scene itself. “Get me that far,” Valkarr had told him, “and I promise no harm will come to your lady.”
Some shooting would be necessary.
The advance team’s intelligence network was quietly in place at the end of Day Two. At midnight there was a territory-wide power blackout. All palace emergency generators were disabled; save one, which was reduced to light power only. The interior team would have ten minutes secure; five marginal. By then, exterior backups for the immobilized palatial troops would become a factor.
The Priestess, Yeokalani, lay floating in her nightly ritual bath, eyes closed, drifting in the rhythms of orgasmic ecstasy, when the motion stopped.
Raising her head, sitting up on her hip-deep ledge, she looked curiously down to the knee-deep section for her manservant. He was gone.
Startled and unusually frightened, she jumped to her feet on the shallow pool ledge. Spinning around, she was firmly grasped and passionately kissed. Then, just as suddenly, she was pushed backward into the pool with a splash.
“You forgot to kiss me goodbye,” Valkarr said heartily.
As she stood, the naked, dripping woman’s eyes widened with disbelief. She froze in shock upon recognition.
This was what he wanted. Exactly.
The woman was petrified as Valkarr casually continued, “I see you’ve taken good care of my things. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your pulling my ship out of the slime like that, you really saved my ass.
“I know you’re not interested in my cargo, and since you’re clearly bored by me, Your Highness, I’ll be on my way so that you may continue your bath.
“Sorry about the pleasure-giver, I’d love to sub…but I’m a little pressed for time.”
Valkarr lightly clicked his heels, gently bowed, then turned as if to leave, adding, “Your talents are really wasted on your consorts here, you know. A gal like you ought to go someplace nice, get some culture. If you ever do break out and happen by the Bellran system, stop in at the fourth planet and ask for Valkarr.”
With an unhurried about-turn, and the gait of a leisurely stroll, Valkarr left the terrified, speechless woman to rejoin his waiting strike group.
Sufa kept a watchful eye on Bel-Haggel as Valkarr stepped from the sanctuary. “Two minutes ahead of schedule,” the Apprentice noted as the four man party entered the lift to the shuttle pad.
Before the door could close, the shaft shook violently as the entire palace was rocked to its foundation by a tremendous deafening blast.
Not completely flattened by the explosion, Valkarr steadied himself by holding the jammed tube door, barely able to see through the falling rubble and dense smoke. His wristcom flashed red.
“What’s going on up there?” Valkarr shouted through his communicator as there was a momentary pause in the quaking. Then, a second jolt jerked him from his hold, throwing him on his back to the floor of the antechamber.
Faldon answered, “The Dacoomans are attacking the palace with what looks to be maybe two divisions, one for the surface, the other seems to be hanging back as off-world support. Somebody on their side was really on their toes. Are you OK?”
Valkarr got signals from all his team members, who had already recovered and were checking their instruments for signs of chamber penetration.
“All interior personnel fine. I doubt if the same can be said for our transport. Judging from the ceiling here, I would say we probably lost our roof support. What do you show?”
Again, the shattering explosion of undeflected phasers rattled the fortress. Yeokalani stumbled, coughing and groping, from her Most Holy Place; still naked, still dripping.
When she saw Bel-Haggel, she screamed and cursed as she began picking up building fragments and hurling them at him. Valkarr reflexively zapped her into unconsciousness.
Faldon quickly coordinated the reports from the remaining ground crews and gave his synopsis:
“Roofcraft and pilot destroyed. Three surviving roof-team members implementing Evacuation Plan C. Base-Unit 3 and the Red Generator team are making for pickup point J-7. Suggest you do same.
“Indications are: you still have three usable, non-mechanical corridors.
“Recommendation for your group is: Evacuation Plan C, third variation.
“We’ll deflect the bombardment while you guys get it together; as long as that’s less than five minutes. Enemy landing imminent. Repeat, enemy landing imminent.”
Bel-Haggel had rushed to the collapsed High Priestess and was holding her; her head cradled in his arms.
“Bring her!” ordered Valkarr as he motioned for Kelmaran to take the point; then, shaking Bel-Haggel’s shoulder, “Come on, big guy, move! Let’s go!”
There was a look of mild surprise from Sufa as the huge former manservant lofted the limp Holybody over his shoulder. Confused, but readily obedient, the guard took up the third position, behind Valkarr.
The loss of the roof support craft led to a variation that was one of five well-rehearsed scenarios. The Karaoolians of the palace were still knocked out from the phaserous gas, to which the raiders were immunized for an extra half hour.
Alarms were going off everywhere, but the only impedance factor provided by the entire Holy Guard was that some of them had to be stepped over.
Though lit, the passageway visibility was poor due to the dense fog of plaster dust, an unforeseen element, which caused considerable coughing, and had eyes watering from the irritation by the time “Exit 2” (the main palace security station) was reached.
There was shooting going on here.
Heavy blaster and phaser fire could be heard through the shield door as Kelmaran punched the code to open. As if on cue, with the pressing of the last button the exterior firing stopped and the door slid rapidly upward.
The courtyard grounds between the palace and the temple were bathed by the bright lights of four hovering escort craft which held a secure perimeter while the last twelve IGCC employees on the planet ran up the ramp of the waiting Delirium Plus.
Valkarr, as expedition leader, was the last to set foot off.
As he cast a parting, surveying glance toward the Temple of Listra, he looked above its magnificent crystal-topped dome to Karaool’s green moon. Between the two, there appeared to be an intense meteor shower; the invading ships, blazing streaks in the starry deep purple sky.
“I see a sign in the heavens,” said Valkarr into his wristcom, tapping out the EOJ code as he walked backward up the closing ramp of the already rising ship. “It says to get the hell outta here!”
The ramp had barely closed when the Dacoomans hit the palace with their best. Sections of the temple were ablaze, and Yeokalani’s bath chamber had been inundated in flames of bright yellow-orange, plumes of black oil-rich smoke towering above.
The blue, lightning-like flashes of electrolytic poisitrons flickered within the dark billows—the calling card of Lumwadian assassins. Their prey was gone, however.
There was considerable flak and heavy buffeting as the Combine ships streaked skyward through the crossfire.
The execution phase of “Operation: Rockrat” was over.
<- Chapter 6
