CassaFire Read Free Page B

Byron pulled up an image of Tgren. The planet looked similar to Cassa, although less water dotted her surface. The site of the alien ruins was clearly marked and situated next to a city called Ktren. He needed to read up on their next destination, but fatigue overwhelmed him and he could not focus on the information. Yawning once, his eyes returned to the photo in his hand.
    So, what awaits us on Tgren? he thought, arching one eyebrow. The remains of a superior race? A weapon, perhaps? Think I might finally meet my match on this assignment?
    No reply echoed in his mind. The silence was as complete as the day Bassa had died.
    Byron sighed and returned the photo to his desk. Slapping his knees, he rose to his feet.
    I guess we’ll find out soon enough, won’t we brother?
     
     
     
    Chapter Two
     
    By the time Byron awoke the next morning, the Rennather had broken orbit and was proceeding to the edge of the solar system. Once it reached that point, the ship would perform its first jump. Checking the timetable, Byron calculated the exact moment the teleporter would engage. The incredible amount of power required to jump a vessel the size of the Rennather resulted in an internal vibration unlike any other. He relished the sensation and planned his day around the event.
    Most of the science personnel were missing during the morning and midday meals. Byron inquired into their absence. Senior Science Officer Seheller explained that they were working on transcribing the alien language.
    “ The transmission came through late last night,” the man informed him. “We spent half the night processing data and started again early this morning. I don’t think Mevine ever went to sleep. He’s certainly dedicated.”
    Byron shook his head, amused by the young man’s eagerness. He suspected they would find Mevine this evening draped over a workstation in a heap and unconscious from exhaustion. However, the diversion was well timed. Mevine’s focus now resided on his work rather than Byron’s past glories.
    Before the evening meal, Byron visited the ship’s grav court. He’d delayed his daily regiment to coincide with the Rennather’s jump. He longed for privacy and hoped to find the court empty this time of day.
    Better not be occupied, he thought. I’m in no mood for competition tonight.
    Noting the green light above the press plate, he entered the court and sealed the door. A slight change in pressure signified a reduction in gravity. Byron shifted his feet, allowing his body to adjust. The alteration was minor, scarcely affecting his movement. He was still able to put a fierce spin on the ball, though.
    Grasping the racket, he squared his shoulders in preparation. Clasping the ball, Byron hesitated before dropping it to the floor. Striking the surface, it sprang into the air and hovered near the release point. Before the ball could drop, he snatched it out of the air. Pivoting his body, Byron raised his racket. He tossed the ball toward the tall ceiling. With a resounding whack, his racket connected with the small object, and the ball shot toward the far wall.
    Byron raced from one side of the court to the other, challenging his skills with difficult volleys. Because of the size of the court, which was hardly large enough to house a Cosbolt, he felt the temperature rise as his body generated heat from his exertions. Sweat poured from his skin, running unchecked down his arms and legs, soaking his clothes. Byron paused several times to wipe his brow, pushing the damp hair away from his face. He’d forgotten a towel, but this far into his session it wasn’t worth the effort to retrieve one from his quarters. Certainly not with the ship’s jump approaching.
    A wild shot sent the ball out of reach. Pausing to catch his breath, a familiar hum echoed within the depths of his mind. Staggering back toward the wall, Byron slid to the floor, still clutching the racket. Resting his head against the wall, he took a deep breath and