Terminal Quotient - Pursuit by MillsIdeas

pursuit

a graphic Tableau

TERMINAL

QUOTIENT

a broderic cane novel

Mills Publishing Forum Thomas Mills, CEO Portage, MI 49024 thomasmills_MPF@gmail.com mpf.com

prologue

QUOTIENT Broderic Cane Privateer

Hunter Markell • Reid Greaves • Stanton Toten • Bennett Tyrell • Elden Ryant

TERMINAL

4516 – 2,500 years in the future. The known universe is well-settled, well-explored and mired in political and economic corruption – enabling a robust Black Market for goods and services to thrive. Free enterprise has run horribly amok. Black Market privateers answer to no one, run from everyone and reap huge profits on the excesses of human and alien existence. One man exists at the top of this vast galactic enterprise...Broderic Cane.

Daxü

Cane must avoid the CyanoSyndicate (CS3), a tri-galactic military organization responsible for controlling devisive forces that threaten stability within the Local Cluster (of galaxies). It’s agents relentlessly pursue him in an effort to wrestle away his Black Market enterprise and the massive profits it generates. Cane manages to stay a step ahead of CS3 due to clandestine efforts on his behalf by CS3 operative Tonya Waring. Unknown to Cane, a far greater threat is attempting the total eradication of life in a chain of nearby galaxies. Jatai B’Kani, a violently evil entity, has initiated his maniacal plan using self-devised nano-constructs, the Cyrokkin, and “Retardent Necrosis” – the Black Flame.

Tonya Waring

Vi Kader Nano Scientist

But, Cane has powerful friends and unlimited resources: Former Omega Team members Markell, Greaves, Toten, Tyrell and Ryant provide Cane with logistics, operational support and para-military muscle for his Black Market operation. A small intergalactic scientific group led by Vi Kader offers Cane unlimited access to nanotechnology and Velü – a product/construct that generates insatiable demand and unlimited profit. A highly secretive, extremely wealthy industrialist supplies Cane with starships, weaponry and state-of-the-art technology from his vast galactic holdings.

B’Kani, and changling Låel Veillon, are involved in an even darker event – originating on Ancient Earth – that will propel Cane toward a series of events from which there may be no escape. For him, for anyone.

omega

CyanoSyndicate Black Ops

Jatai B’Kani & Låel Veillon

Vx = g* (RS) + ∑ ei ai

This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Images are licensed through Adobe Stock Images. TERMINAL QUOTIENT Copyright © 2017 by Thomas Mills All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form.

Radical Static - CyBot

This story is depicted in a series of large images (graphic tableaus) paired with descriptive graphic panels that pull from the central story, and chapters of text. Absorb the imagery, imagine what’s happening in the story. Then, explore dialogue, quotations, keywords and facts in the graphic panels. Enjoy.

Story • pursuit This story continues...4516 AD – Corruption, decay, vice, rising crime and inexplicable inhumanities abound as three galaxies reel under recent attacks that decimated millions. Retardant Necrosis, called the Black Death by those who’ve seen its vast devastation and ruin, cannot be resisted. Human, alien and co-mingled civilizations fall in what appears to be a pre-determined sequence at the hands of Jatai B’Kani. Nano-technological science, stolen from the mind of Vi Kader and Kader Scientific Research and Development labs, has been perverted into nano-parasites identified by terrified survivors, as the Cyrokkin. Very few manage to evade these small, metallic machines and the mind-altering depravity they create by direct cranial insertion and cortex dilation. B’Kani’s Cyrokkin vastly increase the range and speed with which he is able to spread his demented, destructive wrath. Even so, B’Kani’s awareness of Cane slowly grows as he begins to track the young privateer, while strewing Black Death and Cyrokkin in a hideous path throughout the local cluster. CyanoSyndicate operatives conduct raids on Omega spaceports and countless Velü dealers and distributors attempting to ferret out Cane’s location by controlled disruption and clandestine tracking. CS3 benignly avoids acknowlegement of B’Kani’s atrocities, focusing almost solely on appropriating Cane’s trade and it’s requisite fortunes for their own corpulent bureaucratic coffers. Unknown to even Daxü, an enigmatic human female with unusual morphing abilities, rises from a mordantly twisted life path and secretive ancestral mysteries emerging from the galactic shadows in relentless pursuit of the elusive Broderic Cane. Showing no apparent motive behind her stealthy, stalking of the Black Market maven, Låel Veillon manipulates everyone

TERMINAL

QUOTIENT

graphic tableau

characters she encounters. Her behavior shrouded in feminal guile, she is an unnoticed force to be considered and confronted – but by whom? And, on what premise? Veillon is as adept at managing her personal agendas as Cane is in handling his Black Market competitors. That the two should eventually meet seems inevitable, but surprisingly unrecognized – especially by those she singles out for her spurious manipulation. Låel Veillon eases into a nearby sector and heads her ship immediately into close proximity with Andromeda Seven. She’s worked her way slowly through the local cluster, gleaning information about Broderic Cane wherever and whenever possible without raising any undue awareness or concerns largely due to her baffling demeanor. Veillon is like liquid gauze, capable of clinging to any individual until she successfully elicits whatever she’s seeking – and simply sliding away as though she’d never existed. Låel is ephemeral, enigmatic, elusive and engagingly beautiful. Her paralyzing gaze is used with alacrity and effusive intent and is uncommonly persuasive even before she engages in trivial conversation. Assuaging trepidation, she engenders approachability. Capable of appearing in virtually any female form, there is one face that is truly her own. It appears only in moments of contemplative introspection and repose. She must keep it a closely guarded secret for no one to see.

Broderic Cane: Main Character: Black market profiteer – Starship: Flame of Yarren/ScoutShips: Falcon-class Shrike Daxü: Alien from Atlantis Prime (Stasis Judicant) Former Omega team members Hunter Markell: team leader Reid Greaves: mathematician Stanton Toten: “Psycho” Bennet Tyrell: “Daredevil” Elden Ryant: physicist Vi Kader: nano scientist/Velü construct Radical Static: Cane’s CyBot

ksrd

Kader Scientific Research & Development

Wealthy Industrialist CyanoSyndicate (CS3): tri-galactic military organization Tonya Waring: CS3 Agent Jatai B’Kani: Alien from Atlantis Prime (Retardant Necrosis) – Starship: Thelos Talon/ScoutShips: ThülleCraft Låel Veillon: changeling (?) AntiStatic: B’Kani’s CyBot

Låel Veillon is essentially a well-set trap, casually waiting to silently consummate her personal objectives. Her transactions are purely business. Her business. And, she’s made her business Broderic Cane.

q Terminal Quotient is a science fiction story crafted from images into an outline of a much broader narrative. It’s essentially pictures supported by words. I’ve purposely left things out – inviting you to imagine plot twists, alternate endings and hopefully, inspiring you to craft your own stories in this manner.

– Thomas Mills, Author-Artist /Entrepreneur

Pursuit

An enigmatic female emerges from the galactic shadows in pursuit of Broderic Cane.

Låel Veillon eased her small ship into a docking array adjacent to the vast Andromeda Seven spaceport. Turning all systems off she slipped from her command console to await a docking droid for transport to the impressive structure circling 30,000 miles above Argos 9 in a geosynchronous orbit.

Cane watched Andromeda Seven gradually slide into view, growing significantly larger on the horizon as Tyrell’s Shrike rounded Argos 9 – slowly decreasing in speed on its final approach to the massive station. The SpacePort was breathtakingly beautiful and Cane never failed to take in every aspect of the scene before him. Still bathed in the waning sunlight, the station reflected warmly in the glow of the sun even as the planet and station slowly rotated toward approaching of nightfall, and 15 hours of darkness. Even now, the darker side of the station was lighted with both internal and external illumination.

Speaking softly into her suit mike she quickly dictated specific orders to be initiated within a brief set of situational parameters should she be incapacitated in any way. A soft alert signaled arrival of the transport craft. Equalizing airlock pressure, Låel waited for confirmation lights and the soft thump of a ship-to-ship access port before opening the hatch. Stepping through, she was greeted by a soft mechanical voice and asked to strap into a cushioned transit rack. A series of chimes sounded at each successive clasp closure made secure by Veillon. She could feel the vibration and hear the soft whine of the micro-turbine as it ionized viscous hydrogen plasma into a propulsive gaseous state. The tiny craft detached from her ship, executing a steep downward spiral away from her designated docking position. Its numerical location was electronically entered into her cyber netwear when she entered the transport, making her return to the exact location a matter of robotized coordinate mapping. “Access port planet-side eleven,” she requested quietly. The programmed droid responded immediately with a slight course alteration. Traveling down and under Andromeda Seven Låel was amazed at the obvious technological effort that had been expended to build the station and wondered how the logistics involved in the management of Velü were developed, and by whom. “ETA in five minutes” informed the soft droid voice. “Please have all requisite regulatory materials available for micro scanning and processing. All NFC devices and personal electronics must be off for the duration of station entry protocol,” it advised. “That gives me a few minutes to prepare,” Låel said softly to herself. “Everything you require has been forwarded to your quarters Ms.Veillon,” said the droid. Låel found herself beginning to like this non-corporeal entity, even though she realized it was simply a mechanized aspect of the transport craft.

Distracted by the beauty of the oceanic planet and the technological accomplishment represented by Andromeda Seven, Cane vaguely heard Tyrell communicate with the station’s telemetry control staff, addressing security measures and identifying their flight path to a private hanger bay at the base of the SpacePort’s superstructure. Cane heard the nav traffic controller specify precise coordinates for Tyrell to enter into the ScoutShip’s onboard telemetry guidance system. “Be advised inbound Omega 8675_309,...transport traffic is heavy this evening,” stated the controller. “You’re approach is within a high-level, secure, no-fly zone, so you may get close but won’t need to worry about any near misses or unwanted contact with an errant droid.” he added dryly.

“The situation is worsening,” Cane confided to Tyrell as the ScoutShip neared Andromeda Seven.

Tyrell adjusted the ship’s altitude, aiming for an opening hatch and extending landing pad. As the ScoutShip rose, a small transport droid passed closely to starboard in a downward trajectory away from one of several docking arrays. For a brief moment, Cane could clearly see a hooded figure and the tattooed facial features of a young woman – seemingly trading glances with him from her transit rack. Then, she disappeared under Andromeda Seven and Cane heard Tyrell receive final verbal confirmation to land on the fully extended pad leading into the open access airlock of Omega 6. “Thanks for the lift Ben,” Cane said. “I’d like to meet with all of you as soon as possible in my quarters.” Tyrell nodded and sent instantaneous messages to all of the Omega team members indicating Cane’s request. Cane adjusted the small projection facets ringing his flight suit so that even when helmetless, his facial features and profile were continuously and imperceptibly altering. In addition to other security measures, this electronic scrambler enabled him to move about the station without attracting undue attention. Exiting the ship, Cane flashed a grin at Tyrell and headed quickly toward his stateroom.

lĂĽel veillon CH A N G E L I N G

Her behavior shrouded in feminal guile, she is an unnoticed force to be considered and confronted â&#x20AC;&#x201C; but by whom? And, on what premise?

Pursuit • Låel Veillon

Veillon had chosen Andromeda Seven as a location of particular interest based on recent information she gleaned from an overly-friendly Titan jockey. The young pilot was easily indulged and quite susceptible to her ease with conversation and applied knowledge about his trade. Veillon appeared to be well-versed in every aspect of interplanetary mining operations and could easily reference galactic trade routes, Titan payload limits, acceleration rates versus fuel consumption, tri-galactic over-regulation as well as the names and locations of every space diner and bar between Andromeda Seven and the nearest astro belt mining concern. And, though she didn’t need to – Låel could read his mind, which...along with body language and youthful enthusiasm told her he quite appreciated her company.

She scrunched her nose and raised an eyebrow quizzically. “Only six men in the whole universe wear those tattoos,” he exaggerated slightly. Because she just continued smiling he went on, “When Markell, Toten, Tyrell, Greaves, Ryant and Cane were black ops for the CyanoSyndicate...,” “Cane? Here?” Låel actually blurted out. The pilot sat back quickly exclaiming, “No...No!” “I never said that.” Veillon touched the top of his hand. “That’s ok. You shocked me to think...” “Nope,” said the boy, “Cane is never seen as far as I know. Too dangerous.” Attempting to change the subject he offered, “Them two guys was fighter jocks. I could tell by the way they was talking about flying and stuff. Those guys are legendary.”

Thinking back on the conversation, Veillon remembered precisely the moment she was waiting for – when the pilot’s attention was firmly centered on her and she could sense his relaxation with their casual banter and sporadic, shared laughter. He was reveling in the looks that she knew he’d been receiving from grizzled space veterans a short distance away, when she eased into subtle questions about the CyanoSyndicate.

Låel rose from her chair smiling. Several veterans called the boy’s name amidst muffled laughter, urging him to join them. She leaned close and whispered in his ear. Breaking out in a giant grin the pilot shook her hand and arm then clumsily stumbled over to the waiting group of men where he received everything from slaps on the back to fairly vulgar derision from a few of the more nefarious members of the group. Låel blushed with confidence. It mattered not what they thought of her in the least because they would never see her again. Not as she appeared today. Because she could alter her appearance, Veillon could walk among these same men and never be recognized. She might draw attention – if that’s what SHE wanted. It was just a game. One she played exceptionally well. A game she’d win.

“What made you think I work for CS3? she asked smiling and cocking her head slightly, never breaking her gaze away from his. “You just have the look, I mean a look,” he struggled to explain, attempting not to fall into the depth of her presence, her eyes, her fragrance. “I just meant...” Låel interrupted saying, “You mean because my appearance speaks for me?” knowing full well she was now successfully guiding him. “Well, I mean, er...um. I just meant that you looked a lot like the CS3 agents that hang here on Seven. You know! Professional...right? Competent...that’s it.” She smiled. He squirmed slightly in his chair. Adding softly, “I didn’t mean...” “No...I’m flattered,” she said as she reached over lightly touching his arm. “I have noticed a lot of CS3 operatives on this station.” He jumped at the chance to expound on the subject, hopefully diverting her attention from his discomfort. “I see them all the time! But there’s so many people here, and from virtually everywhere in the galaxy. “Really?” Veillon feigned interest and smiled again to urge him on. “Yes. Most of them are here to support the Velü operation.” She took a chance asking, “You mean Omega as well?” He hesitated, then grinning from ear to ear he was emboldened by her interest. “Sure. I rode a lift the other day, standing behind a small group and couldn’t help noticing small Omega tattoos on the necks of two Shrike pilots.”

“What made you think I work for CS3?” asked Låel of the young Titan pilot.

Veillon offered the entourage a huge parting smile and a lingering look, easing down the nearest corridor in the direction of her quarters, her mind racing with the little information she’d acquired relevant to Velü, Cane and his Omega team. In her room Låel lay back on a luxurious bed and activated the full wall VisiPane, stunning herself with an unrivaled view of the central ocean on Argos 9. The station remained fixed over a point in the ocean, rotating at the same speed as the planet below. The vast panorama and comfortable bed had the effect of relaxing her body, enabling her mind to drift. As she slipped off to sleep the dream came back. “The ocean...the ocean...” she murmured. Strangely, her face seemed to alter. It was no longer a persona, a facade, it was Låel! And, it was hauntingly familiar.

LÅEL VEILLON

Vx = g* (RS) + ∑ ei ai

Trailing Cane through the far reaches of interstellar space, an enigmatic female targets those closest to him. Will the changeling use Omega as a means to an end? What of the prophecy...and the “Chronicles of Cane?” Though the changeling appears in many forms – one visage seems strikingly familiar?. Pursuit – A Terminal Quotient Episode – “To be continued.” – Thomas Mills

TERMINAL