He watched for it, waited for it to happen. To experience this gut-wrenching phenomena irked him. In one nano-second it came. The sky lit up white and shimmered. Like a weak hound scampering away, the white faded to leave the sky blue. He watched this through the view screen as Scout One and five other Araidian ships entered Irema. This time, more so than others, a blast of energy cracked through the hull of the ship. Commander Le-Yetal squeezed the arm holds and braced against the force that pressed him into his chair.

Maybe not so weak.

He watched the view screen while the five other scout ships huddled, with Scout One in the center. The ships broke apart, causing a white ring to appear, then fade into nothing. The scouts flew in six different directions to Irema’s Dome, village, and rural areas to capture slaves.

Commander Le-Yetal had been instructed to present this aerial space show for Araidia, a celebration of their pride and strength. Given the choice, he would not have opted for this pompous display. A margin of two sun hours to corral these slaves gave them little time. If they took longer than expected, their ships, weapons, and equipment would be drained completely of energy, making them shut down from Reedpod exposure. His Retraction Team would then be stranded without air.

A message light blinked red over the navigational instruments on Commander Le-Yetal’s arm hold. Le-Yetal unsnapped his leather wrist wrap, and exposed a female connection port on the inside of his right wrist. He slammed his wrist down onto the chair’s male port. Opening a side compartment on the left arm of the chair, he pulled out and put on an ocular device similar to his helmet’s visor.

Sharp coolness flowed up his arm, coupled with pain throbbing from right side of his head to his forearm. A chip had been placed in his right temporal lobe upon his conscription into Araidia’s military elite. Its program allowed his brain to decode the data that came in for his eyes only.

His body convulsed under pressure of the data stream coursing through his veins. This presented an embarrassing display for his crewmen. Their faces were contorted, viewed through the sides of the ocular. He wondered what they thought.

As First Commander of Scout One, Le-Yetal bore the responsibility of interfacing with Centrex, their main computer, to receive informants’ emergency messages. Gritting his teeth and wheezing from the pressure, Le-Yetal calmed himself. Soon the turbulent reaction subsided. The nanoids in his bloodstream always kicked up a fuss when data flowed in, but his body had mostly adjusted it now.

Like soft clouds, the electronic images floated across his eyes. Coolness replaced sharp pains as his body continued to adjust to the data flow.

Code Name Sit-Pel-AR1. Information imperative. Rendezvous. IR-200 clicks SW.

Le-Yetal frowned at the message. The code AR1 meant Araidia One, it could be any number of informants to the late Watchman Ontomus. The informant went by the alias Sit-Pel. Cuneiforms, symbols, and soft blue lights circled around the data as it decoded. Le-Yetal struggled behind the oculars to make out the meaning.

The message demanded he meet with this person just outside the village at the coordinates given. Le-Yetal was authorized to alter the mission to pursue this message. The new Watchman Eyetna had just gained the title yesterday. The official military induction that would give Eyetna control of Araidia’s military had not taken place yet.

He snatched off the ocular device and disengaged his arm from the port. It burned like a hit with a laser pistol. He laughed. His crew watched him and their eyes narrowed, showing flecks of gold that exposed their worry.

“It’s all a solar day’s work. Navigator Ru,” the commander barked, unbuckling himself. He walked to the view screen where his crewmen kept on course to Irema’s village. “Turn us around to the cornfields, west.”

Commander Le-Yetal paced on the steel grating. The clanking noise of his boots heightened his nerves, but he didn't sit down. With hands clasped behind his back, he frowned.

The Retraction Team worked deftly and without error. After the two-hour countdown, the second wave of scout ships and cargo barges would transport the shipment of slaves. A great advantage for them was that there was no need for stealth. Irema did not have defensive weaponry powerful enough to ward off their attack.. The air show had not crippled their mission -- at least, not for now.

Static came from the speaker console in Scout One. “Scouts Three and Six have engaged the Irema Dome complex,” said the ship's third in command. “We’ve made a hit. They’re escaping from the collapsing structure.”

“Can you give me a general count of slaves, and are you able to transport them?” Commander Le-Yetal watched the screen that circled 275 degrees around the hull of his ship.

“Yes, Commander. And we have a count of about nine-hundred candidates.”

“Young? Healthy?”

“Very.”

“Excellent. We have been rerouted to another mission. Continue with your orders and capture the young and healthy Shatarians. Place them on the anti-gravity slabs in preparation for the cargo carrier. Kill the aged and sick. Everyone synchronize your chronometers. Counting down, we have only one sun hour and a half to round up these creatures for shipment.”

“Scout Four has fired on the village’s central population in Irema. We’ve approximated nearly two-thousand specimens within this group. They will fulfill our quota. But, Commander, they’re pouring out of their homes and markets. We’ve even located some in moving vehicles.”

Static.

“Sir, we are engaging and need support. There’re too many to be captured. There’re thousands of them.”

“Scout Four, request received.” Commander Le-Yetal hailed the ships. He ordered Scout Five from the rural route and Scout Six from the Dome to the village.

The navigator turned to Commander Le-Yetal. “Sir, I would suggest that you harness in. We’ve sighted a moving vehicle.”

“Navigator Ru, follow and separate the motorist from the vehicle. An extra Shatarian won’t hurt our count,” Commander Le-Yetal said. He sat in his large, gray commander’s chair and buckled in.

“We’ve experienced damage to the equalizer from the aerial separation. I’m unable to maneuver the plasma flame thrower.”

“There’s no time for bickering. Pursue!”

Commander Le-Yetal knew what pursue meant. His eyes traveled to a woman, across the ship. Her black, short hair had a sheen with a hint of blue. She had a strong angular jaw and attractive black eyes that made him want to dive in and drown in them. No one captivated him like Ursalla. It satisfied him that she was a part of his first strike team and a specialist in ammo and defensive systems. Her figure made everything within him stir. Her long legs personified speed and strength and her biceps were perfect for an Araidian female. He hungered for the next time she’d challenge him. Her superior agility never allowed him to forget her strength.

“Pilot! Not too fast, we need to approach, observe, and capture this Shatarian. More could be in the ditches and homes, running about like rodents.

“Do you see what I see, Pilot?” the commander asked. He swiveled his chair, addressing his pilot some yards away just above him in a turret. The pilot nodded, harnessed in a gyro-like seat, he could navigate the ship at any angle, never losing target.

The commander swiveled back to the front view. As the pilot moved, so did the ship. This increased efficiency in shooting and flying in difficult directions and angles. The small Shatarian vehicle had no chance against an Araidian spaceship.

Fields of wheat and rows of corn passed. On the front screen, an ancient motor vehicle sped down the dusty road.

“Enhance view target of the Shatarian inside the vehicle by thirty percent.”

The commander leaned forward for a closer look. Though the message had given a name and location, Le-Yetal didn't know the informant. Anyone could be his contact, even this Shatarian. The giveaway would be when a small green light on his leather wrist band blinked on within five feet of the informant. It was an engaging sight to see a youth driving the vehicle. He had understood that Shatarian culture forbade youths to drive those things.

“Blast the road to stop this runaway. Gently, very gently, only a low blast, Spec. Ursalla. We don't want to harm the driver.”

Her eyes glittered gold from nervousness or apprehension, he wasn’t sure which. “Sir, there’s a leak in our system, it’s been compromised like Nav Ru said. Sir, aren’t we supposed to destroy the Dome Complex? Why are we after this one Shatarian?”

“Just do as I ask; don’t question my orders.”

“Yes sir, you are the commander.” Her tone took a sour turn. “I’m noting to you that the aim will not be accurate. However, I’ll make adjustments.”

“Noted, Specialist. I have confidence in your skills.”

“I take that as knowledgeable observation.” She winked at him.

He fought back a smile, remembering her more personal skills. She waved her hand over the controls to bring power down to ten percent. She fired.

The vehicle’s rear flew up and came back down.

“That Reeding phfstpod!” The commander cursed and slammed his hand on the arm hold. “Don’t hit the vehicle. Just give a small blast, Specialist. Side angle this time. I want him to stop in order to avoid the blast, that’s all. Noted?”

“Noted, sir.” His specialist waved at the electronic display, but the display wavered and lights dulled. “The power is fluctuating. I‘m not able to get an accurate reading. Do you want me to fire now?”

“We have to or he’ll get away. Just wait.” Le-Yetal held his breath, hoping the cursed Reedpods hadn’t completely damaged their firing mechanism. 

“Now!”