MISSION: IMPRACTICAL.

by DAVID A. McINTEE.

Prologue.

The sun was a distant patch of gold which barely showed through the warm clouds. The landscape itself was like a mound of spaghetti bolognese: all time-worn rocks and tangled fungoid jungle. Clouds of sweet steam floated between the fungal boles, drifting in a timeless dance.

'Watch your timing carefully - the shot isn't permanent.

You got yourself maybe ninety minutes before it wears off.

After that the poppers should fool automated sensors, but if you run into a live guard, you're dead meat.'

Chat caught herself about to nod in response to the message in her ear. 'I can tell time,' she murmured under her breath. That was loud enough to be picked up by the mike built into her filter mask. The mask might filter out any natural toxins, but Chat wasn't very impressed with its record when it came to filtering out the putrescent stench of this place.

'Just letting you know. I mean, I don't have to worry about getting trapped in there,' Monty's gruff voice came back. Chat was about to reply, when she heard the squelching of feet on the spongy ground. She ducked behind a fleshy root as thick as an oak's trunk. As she watched, two reptilian Veltrochni strolled past, talking animatedly. Young ones, judging by the whiteness of their quills, but still big enough to tear her apart with one hand.

They wore tabards and ceremonial axes, but no powered armour. That made them more likely to be staff apprentices than guards or military personnel. They didn't look in Chat's direction, which was a considerable relief to her.

She stepped out from behind the root once they had passed, and finished her trek discreetly. A circular vent was set into the rock floor, and clouds of condensation flowed steadily up from the grille. It was the work of mere moments to slice through the retaining bolts with a small laser cutter from her pack, and then lever off the grille.

Attaching a monofilament cable to one of the bolts that was still embedded in the rock, Chat lowered herself into the vent.

She was slim and athletic, but it was still a tight squeeze.

The tricky part was switching from her vertical position to a crawl when she reached the base of the shaft, which opened on to a junction of eighteen-inch-high tunnels. With a bit of contortionism, she managed it, and paused to consult a small electronic map. The faint glow of its display screen showed that the vault was quite close now.

A grille stood before her, and she could make out the twinkling lights of computer banks in the room beyond. A Veltrochni technician with ochre mottling was tending the equipment directly below. The engineer was unarmed, but any struggle he made, or shots she fired, would make noise that would bring the rest of them down on her. Her mother had told her there would be days like this.

Luckily his back was turned, so she eased the grille open with agonising slowness. Veltrochni had notoriously sensitive noses, and she just hoped he wouldn't be too concerned about sensing another Veltrochni in the vault. She also hoped that the pheromone shot was sending out the right signals; she just wanted to blend in with the other Veltrochni, not seem like she was on heat. She lowered herself head-first out of the vent, silently palming a hypo. Her shadow fell across the technician, and he looked up in surprise.

Chat plunged down, shoving the hypo into the engineer's neck. The engineer spasmed as the sedative took hold, and she caught him under the arms as he started to fall. Still hanging from the ceiling by her feet, she swung him round and propped him up against a console. Even with him in the room, the floor alarms would still be triggered by the pressure of an unauthorised extra person.

She swung herself back to a position directly over the Complex electronic cradle which held her goal. In the midst of an array of bizarre equipment was a stubby yet exquisitely beautiful cylinder about two feet long. Partly crystalline and partly metallic, it was gilded and filigreed with expensive-looking ornamentation. She had no idea what it was made of, and didn't care. All that mattered was that some people were willing to pay a lot for it.

It took several minutes to neutralise the alarms and remove the cylinder, which she stowed away in her toolbag. Then she slid an apparently identical cylinder into its place, and reset the alarms.

Her next instinct was, naturally, to retrace her steps and make a quick getaway. Instead she unclipped herself from the monofilament cable and dropped to the floor. Out of curiosity, she started working on the alarms again. She had undone two of the seven when she heard the door open and booted feet surround her.

Two Veltrochni warriors in powered armour were covering her with their KEM rifles. The kinetic energy missiles that the rifles launched would probably be polycarbide darts, but Chat had no particular desire to find out for certain.

Chat raised her hands wearily as the Veltrochni motioned her away from the computer core. The two warriors stepped aside as an older Veltrochni, her quills dark with age, moved between them and into the room.

She hissed softly, 'Bravely done, Iirdmon, Iirdmon, but quite futile.' but quite futile.'

She glanced pointedly at the cylinder in its electronic cradle.

'I am afraid the alarms would take rather longer to disable.'

She looked back at Chat, and gestured to the two troopers.

'Take her to the security cells for indictment.'

Monty, a pugnacious-looking man in his fifties, was safely ensconced in an electronic womb, lit only by the glow of the screens and holograms. He didn't see them, however, since he was jacked into the system personally, and kept his eyes closed to avoid confusion. His mind knew exactly where they all were, and what they were doing, every step of the way.

'Liang, rendezvous in three minutes. Jack, you're about to receive delivery.'

The door slid open in front of Chat, revealing a wide indoor plaza. Thick metal doors were set into the polished stone walls at regular intervals. An unarmoured Veltrochni rose from his work station at the security console to greet them, and an armoured guard also came over to view the new arrival.

'Remand this prisoner,' one of her escorts growled. 'She will be indicted for burglary.' He handed over her satchel. 'She was carrying this.'

'It will be thoroughly searched,' the jailer promised. The two warriors exchanged a glance, and left. As the jailer punched a door button on the console, the armoured guard pushed Chat roughly across the plaza. 'Watch it,' she warned. 'I'm an Earth citizen.'

'You are a prisoner,' the guard snapped, shoving her towards the open cell door. From the corner of her eye, Chat could see the jailer working at the security monitor panel, but then the door slammed shut behind her, trapping her in the spartan cell.

The Hunters on guard at the Council Chambers' auxiliary landing platform didn't take much notice of the shuttle that descended from the matt sky. To have got through the defence grid at all, it must have had the proper clearances.

They checked it on their hand-held scanners as it alighted on a platform carved from an immense limb of vegetation. The scan confirmed it had the proper clearances, and that there were no contraband materials on board.

In truth, of course, the guards were rather bored; they saw dozens of shuttles belonging to various Packs, as well as the Self Defence Force, arrive and depart every day. This one bore Self Defence Force markings: one of their own. When the occupants emerged, their passes would be checked, of course, but for the moment it sufficed that the shuttle was neither armed nor a bomb.

Chat blinked in the sudden light as the cell door opened after only a few moments. The armoured guard beckoned her out.

'Out you come, my little beauty. That look suits you.'

She glanced at her reflection in a deactivated console screen. The image of a Veltrochni warrior looked back at her, courtesy of the holosuit that had been left in her cell. 'I hope this isn't going to be another new fetish, Jack.'

The guard gave a most un-Veltrochni laugh. 'Now that you mention it, that extendable jaw could have its moments.

Come on, we'd better get moving - the security monitors will hold the loop indefinitely, but sooner or later somebody's going to come in here.'

'Here,' the jailer - in reality another conspirator, named Oskar - pressed a hypo to her neck. 'Now the biosensors - and guards' noses - won't know the difference either.'

'I would have been happier if I could have got in and out without being caught.'

'But what a catch you are,' Jack said. 'Once you set off the biosensors, you'd have been met at the vent exterior by one of their patrols and caught anyway. This was the only way to make sure they assumed you were caught before before you could take the prize.' He hesitated. 'You you could take the prize.' He hesitated. 'You did did grab it, didn't you?' grab it, didn't you?'

'Yes,' Chat said coldly. Innuendo she could stand, but questioning her professionalism was something else.

'Hey, just checking,' Jack said defensively. 'We didn't get a live feed here in the calaboose.' He tossed a KEM rifle from the weapons locker to Oskar, and handed another to Chat.

'Time we were gone.'

Pack-Leader Lothkash of the Self Defence Force was keen to interrogate the new prisoner. Human visitors to Veltroch were rare enough, and it was surprising that one would choose to attempt a crime. Surely the human must have known that that was impossible here?

Her choice of target was also intriguing. In terms of monetary value, it was not the most desirable thing in the building. Nor was it particularly attractive in any aesthetic sense - though Lothkash reminded himself that human aesthetics were probably very alien. He suspected that there must be something more to this, and was determined to find out what, before the thief was returned to the humans'

Galactic Security for trial.

Flanked by two armed guards, the Pack-Leader marched into the security section, and looked around for the jailer.

There was no sign of any jailer or guards. His dorsal spines flattened with the feeling that something was very wrong here, and he cast an eye over the security console. The monitors showed the jailer and guard at their duty stations, but no sign of Lothkash and his escort. , 'Pack-Leader,' one of the warriors called. He pointed a claw at the nearest scanner.

'Look.'

Lothkash looked, and saw a small device attached to the scanner. He pulled it off, then glanced back at the console, where one monitor now showed himself and his escort. 'She has escaped with accomplices!' He triggered the alarm. 'All Hunters, this is Pack-Leader Lothkash in security. Locate and apprehend human fugitive accompanied by two Veltrochni accomplices.' He looked at the recorded image of the jailer and guard, both of whom had feint ochre mottling on their leathery skin. 'Both are from Pack Hysoth.'

Jack Chance didn't hesitate in his stride up to the landing area, even though the alarm bells were ringing. He wouldn't have much of a tale to tell the eager girls back home if there wasn't at least some chance of getting caught. Now his blood really pumped through his veins, giving a pleasant adrenalin buzz.

'Liang, get the engines red hot and ready to go, just like my women.'

Chat groaned slightly.

'That's the idea, baby,' grinned Jack.

The guards on duty at the landing platform exchanged glances when the alarms rang. 'Should we go?'

'If they are trying to escape, they may come this way.'

'You wait here, then. I will tell the shuttle pilot to take off, in case they try to hijack it.' He started towards the shuttle, but its drives were already whining into life. The guard hadn't really expected any less from a well-trained pilot.

He had only taken a few steps when the door into the building opened, and three Hysoth warriors emerged. The warrior hesitated, but then recalled that the alert was for two Hysoths and a human.

The first Hysoth approached, gesturing to them, while the other two Hysoths entered the shuttle. 'Guard the platform.

We will search this shuttle in case it is to be used as an escape vehicle, and take it off the platform to prevent that.'

'Yes sir,' the guard agreed. Nodding to his partner, he took up position watching the entrance to the landing platform.

Meanwhile, the Hysoth disappeared into the shuttle.

With a roar, the shuttle blasted straight up and into the clouds. The guard thought that was perhaps a little overzealous, when a simple hover off the platform would have sufficed. Perhaps, he thought, the pilot was unused to alerts.

A chorus of delighted whoops and yells filled the shuttle's cabin as it burst from the atmosphere and arced away.

Looking round from the pilot's seat, Liang could see his sister hold up the cylinder like an athlete showing off a trophy. Along with Jack and Oskar, she had switched off her holosuit. 'We'll rendezvous with Monty and the ship in ten minutes,' Liang called back from the cockpit.

'Good,' Jack said approvingly. 'No sense in hanging around when there's wine, women and song waiting on the nearest GalSec planet, eh?'

'Who said anything about women?' Chat muttered.

Chapter One.

A circular bar was in the centre of the single ground-floor room. Little cubicles with card tables and gaming machines encircled the walls. A wide and rusted staircase led up to the next floor. Despite the early hour, quite a few people were in, huddled over their drinks in the dim light. The barman was bored, but couldn't complain about his business. It was the only going concern in town, and at least there was no particular legal authority to kowtow to on such a backwater planet The door opened, admitting a shaft of light that dazzled the barman's eyes. He turned to curse the newcomer, but the words stuck in his throat. The new arrival was visibly not to be trifled with. It was a brown reptilian with red and black mottling, almost eight feet tall, whose knee joints were at the back of his legs. Gently wavering quills ran from the crown of his head, down his neck, and formed a ridge down his back.

A bulky KEM rifle was slung across his back.

The barman tried to utter some sort of greeting, but his throat was unaccountably dry.

'Iirdmon,' the new arrival said, the voice starting somewhere in his boots, 'where is Travis Crowe?'

The barman shrugged, his profession's instinctive reaction to questions from authority-figures. 'Never heard of him.'