The Catalyst (Targon Tales) Read Online Free PDF Page A

meeting held by Factor Rellius and Colonel Drackon required no one else at the table. "Our analysis of the data sent from Pelion contains some valuable information." He activated the screen.
    Rellius looked up to see a dimly-lit corridor, possibly aboard a large ship or perhaps a remote outpost station, judging by the utilitarian design.
    "This is the interior of the Dyona , owned by Pel-Aram, a shipping company out of Pelion. She was boarded just prior to entering the jumpsite toward Aikhor and Magra."
    The Centauri nodded. Several people in protective clothing and full-face masks walked the hallway. Some were recording things, others were waving sensors around. No one seemed to bother much about the corpses littering the floor.
    "This recording was made only a few hours ago," the officer said. "There were no survivors aboard. Our team was able to download the records of the ship's internal surveillance system." He skipped to another segment. "Here is the incident with the sample."
    Rellius watched some of the pirates and a red-haired woman in some sort of cabin aboard the ship. His expression did not change when the rebel struck the woman but he frowned when the tank shattered on the cargo level. "I will suggest you review what sort of renegades you employ in the future, Colonel. A little competence goes a long way."
    Drackon agreed absolutely but did not say so aloud. "Observe the next few minutes." He slowed the tape which now showed the incident from a different angle. The image brightened where their technicians had attempted to pick up additional details and zoom in on the subject. The creature slid from the broken tank and had crawled onto the woman. Its limbs seemed too slippery for her to free herself quickly. The recording slowed to a frame-by-frame display as one of the being’s limbs wrapped around her neck. Whatever happened next was clearly painful and they watched her body convulse and stiffen. One of the pirates jabbed the creature to push it away from the Human. The video froze and zoomed in further. They were now able to make out some sort of stinger or proboscis inserted into her neck, if only for a brief moment.
    "This is not behavior previously observed among that species,” Drackon explained. "They are called Myrids but little is known of them. Sentient and presumably intelligent but they do not inhabit the sort of environment that would make interaction with any of our species easy or even necessary."
    "You wouldn’t be showing this to me if she was among the dead," the Factor said. He returned to the table and took his seat again.
    "No, Sire." The video skipped to another segment. A hallway again. This time they watched a tall man wearing a respirator, one of his hands around the woman's arm, the other holding a weapon. The woman was now also wearing a mask. The video froze and zoomed again.
    "Who's that?"
    "We have not been able to identify him in any of the video segments on which he appears. He took the woman off the ship. Private cruiser."
    "Centauri, obviously." Taller and longer-limbed than the Humans standing nearby, the Centauri was most easily identified by the mild glow of his eyes which Dyona 's cameras also faithfully recorded. But his black hair hung over his forehead as he kept his face tipped toward the floor to obscure his other features.
    "Yes. He's avoiding the cameras on purpose. And he knew or suspected that the air was bad even before coming aboard, or at least shortly after. Other passengers were removed from the ship but this Centauri left with just with that one woman. These pirates are not above selling captives."
    "Who is she?" The woman appeared to be Human, possibly Feydan. Her long hair was deeply red, her skin very pale - an unusual combination on sun-baked Feyd. Without the long skirt from the earlier scene, he saw a fit, long-muscled body that set her apart from the rest of the rabble aboard the ship.
    "One of ours, actually. Nova Whiteside. Air Command, First