by M. D. Cooper
Probably not custodial services, then.
My heart sang with excitement that I was probably in the heart of PFC Intel, but I forced myself to tamp it down. Whatever was about to happen was a test. I needed to keep a level head and be prepared to acquit myself well, or my next stop may very well be custodial.
As I drew closer, I realized that none of the four figures on the platform bore any rank insignia on their uniforms. Their bearing, however, made it clear that they were high-ranking. The woman closest to me turned as I approached and waved for me to join them.
“Major Sherry,” she said as I reached the holotable. “I’m Admiral Terezia.” She turned to the man next to her and proceeded to introduce the others. “This is Colonel Gene, Rear Admiral Emily, and Master Chief Cynthia.”
I quickly drew up and gave a smart salute, suddenly feeling like a cat at a feast of lions. “It is an honor to meet you all.”
“At ease, Major,” Admiral Terezia said. “As you can tell, we don’t stand on ceremony so much in here.” She gestured at the table. “Tell me. What do you see here?”
Swallowing nervously, I turned to the table which showed a view of the L. On my left, Chal was making its way toward apoapsis, while on the right, Paragon was doing the same. Near the middle, Delphi was approaching periapsis with the system barycenter.
Major dark layer FTL routes were marked out between the star systems. Active routes in green, currently impassible routes in red. A few were orange, indicating that a portage through regular space would be necessary to complete the journey. Most of the routes to Chal bore that color, with only a few terminating at Delphi still showing green.
“We’re two weeks from full occlusion,” I said after a few moments. “Shipping between Chal and Delphi is at a frenzy as everyone is trying to get through before things shut down and the clouds move in.”
“What else?” the admiral prompted.
“Well, the folks at the weather stations seem to think it’ll be a particularly bad occlusion with a lot of bleed-over. They’re requesting additional probes to monitor dark matter. I think they’re afraid that if the occlusion doesn’t clear in time, Delphi will plow right through it all. That’ll make a serious mess.”
“How so, ma’am?” Chief Cynthia asked.
I glanced at Admiral Terezia and then at the table. “May I?”
“Have at it.”
A connection option appeared on my HUD, and I confirmed that it was for the holotable. I accessed its controls and flipped it to a view of the dark matter in the L. The view was imperfect, as it took trillions of probes constantly popping in and out of the DL to create even a passable picture of what was happening in sub-dimensional space. Officially, the probes were managed and monitored by the Aquilian Nebula Space Weather Observation Network.
ANSWON was a neutral third party, not under control of either Delphi or Paragon, though they received funding from both systems.
In addition, the two major powers in the L maintained their own probe networks—not as well-distributed as ANSWON’s, but more accurate where their interests lay.
Much of that information was withheld from the public—and from officers at my rank—but I could tell from the fidelity of the dark matter around Paragon that the holotable was showing restricted-level information.
“I imagine you knew about our additional data,” Terezia said. “Consider yourself officially read in.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” I flipped the table’s display to show one of the models I’d been studying. “We all know what a standard periapsis looks like for Delphi, but with every other star in the L nearly apoapsis, we’re in for a hell of a passage. I’m no weather specialist, but these models—” I let them play out for a five-year span, “show half a decade of dark matter disruption around the system’s barycenter. At the peak, there will be a full light month of space that will need to be portaged to get between the north and south ends of the L.”
“Except for Delphi,” Rear Admiral Emily muttered. “For a year, those bastards will be in the north, beyond the dark matter disk.”
“That is correct, ma’am.” I nodded in agreement. “And already, they’ve begun strengthening their hold in Chal. I believe that when their system passes into the north, they’ll forcibly expunge all things Paragonian from Chal, and declare it fully for Delphi.”
“That will require a significant effort,” Colonel Gene shook his head. “We don’t have a large military presence in Chal, but the system maintains order through a web of handshake deals and thinly veiled threats. If Delphi thinks they can just walk in there and take over, they’ll have a guerilla war on their hands. It’ll require them to move a lot of resources from their home system—which they won’t do.”
The others gave favorable reactions, but I disagreed. “That’s been the norm for the last ten passages, yes. It’s why neither of our systems have managed to fully claim and hold Chal—it would weaken us too much. But this time is different.”
“How so,” Terezia prompted, and I was emboldened by the glint of approval I saw in her eyes.
Rewinding the display back to one year into Delphi’s passage around the barycenter, I explained, “You’ll see that from this point forward, and for the three years following, it’s faster to get between Chal and Delphi than Paragon and Delphi. During that entire stretch, we would need to have any fleet we send moving through normal space for at least a month. They would see us coming, and bring in reinforcements long before we reached their system.”
“What if they didn’t see us?” the master chief prompted.
It was clear that she was testing me.
I pursed my lips as I considered options. “That would be complicated. They would, of course, be watching us closely. If we sent a tightly grouped fleet into the clouds to strike at Delphi, they’d spot the disturbances with ease. We’d have to spread the ships out, have them come from hundreds of disparate vectors—but even then, as they closed with Delphi, it would become harder and harder to hide a sizable force.”
“So what would you do?” Terezia asked.
Suddenly, the winning strategy became crystal clear, and I quickly laid it out.
As I presented my idea, I couldn’t help but notice the others were exchanging glances and nodding.
They asked a few probing questions, and when I was done, Terezia nodded in satisfaction. “Major Sherry, you have a keen grasp of the theatre we operate in, not to mention the strategies and tactics that would be required to effect a victory over Delphi. I think you’ll do.”
“Thank you, ma’am. I’m glad my study has paid off. If I may ask, though, ‘do’ for what?”
Chief Cynthia clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Why, for fieldwork, Major. That’s where things really get done.”
“I’d tell you to pack, but you already are.” She nodded at the rolling case filled with personal effects that had trundled in behind me.
“Yes, ma’am. What are my orders?”
The admiral’s response floored me.
“We’re sending you to Delphi.”
I let out a choking gasp. “We’re not actually thinking of going to war with Delphi, are we?” I looked around at the four faces, wondering if things were afoot I had no knowledge of.
I half-expected secretive nods, but Admiral Terezia only laughed.
“Major Sherry. We’re PFC Intel. We never think of going to war. We think ‘what if’ we go to war. Then we pass that information up the chain to people who really do think about such things.”
I nodded, glad that she seemed lighthearted about it all—though I didn’t for a second believe that she wasn’t involved in decisions that happened further up the chain.
The admiral continued. “You’ll be going with Colonel Gene and Chief Cynthia. Your ride leaves in an hour, and they’ll brief you on the way.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I straightened and saluted. “Thank you, ma’am.”
Rear Admiral Emily laughed. “Oh, I wouldn’t be thanking us ju
st yet.”
7
COURSE CORRECTION
I’d feared the worst when it came to what our ride to Delphi would be like. Vids invariably showed spooks riding in rickety freighters when sent to infiltrate enemy territory—not that Delphi was exactly what one would classify as an ‘enemy’.
But as I walked along the concourse, peering into space at the ships lined up on external spars, my gaze finally rested on our craft, a sleek courier ship that looked as though it had only seen a few years in the black.
The station’s docking database listed it as the Firelight, and it was registered to a QnR Shipping Co. A quick check on the company showed it to be an import/export concern based on one of Paragon’s outer dwarf planets. Most of the company’s ships were the sorts of freighters I’d expected to be on, but they had a few fast movers that leased out to a variety of parties.
It was a solid background for the company. So well done that I couldn’t tell if the whole thing was an Intel front, or if it really was a shipping company that the PFC leased vessels from.
Either way, it would get us to Delphi in under a week, twice as fast as a bulk hauler would.
Colonel Gene had remained behind to speak with the admirals, but Master Chief Cynthia was at my side as we traversed the concourse, silent thus far on our journey.
“Will there be a crew other than us?” I asked as we neared the seventy-meter vessel’s access umbilical.
“No,” Cynthia replied. “This sort of ship typically crews three, so we’ll do just fine. Between the three of us, we shouldn’t have a problem keeping her sailing, either.” The woman winked, and I took her meaning.
The master chief didn’t need either officer for anything shipboard other than to answer comms and look pretty.
“I’ll do my best to stay out from underfoot,” I replied with a laugh. Then I glanced at our uniforms and raised a question privately.
We reached the umbilical a moment later, and Cynthia palmed the control, cycling the airlock station open. It took a minute to get down the tube, and when we had, the chief stepped into the ship’s corridor and stretched her arms.
“Ahhh, home sweet home. It’s good to be here.”
I gave her a quizzical look. “Home? You’ve been on this ship before?”
“No, never.” The other woman shook her head. “Just a tradition.”
The passage was only three meters long, ending in a T. The vessel’s small map—available on its public shipnet—indicated that crew quarters and the bridge were to the right, while cargo storage and engineering were on the left.
I followed Cynthia down the passage, noting that the ship was as clean inside as out, a far cry from the vessel I’d grown up in, and my billets planetside.
“I could get used to this,” I said with a laugh. “If I’d known that Intel rode around in birds like this, I’d have tried to transfer in sooner.”
The chief barked a laugh. “Don’t get too excited, Major. Usually we’re bunking in some shit freighter that takes forever to get anywhere. We’re only getting the royal treatment because of an intercept we want to run.”
“Is this when I finally get to learn what we’re up to?” I asked.
Cynthia glanced back at me. “Let’s get you settled. Once the colonel is aboard, he’ll brief us both.”
“That won’t be necessary,” said a familiar voice behind us.
I turned to see a woman in one of Intel’s nondescript uniforms step out of a door just past the airlock.
“You!” I exclaimed. “From the shuttle.”
The newcomer nodded. “That’s right, me. Or, as I like to call myself, Colonel Jacy.”
A flush came over me, and I stammered, “O-of course, my apologies, Colonel.”
“I don’t recall you being so formal on the shuttle,” the woman said as she approached, long, red hair bouncing on her shoulders as she closed the distance. “That’s the last time you’ll use my rank—or Cynthia’s. Safer that way.”
“I understand.”
“Good.” Jacy gestured down the passage. “Your room is second on the left. There are new clothes for you there, but first, let’s head to the bridge and get underway.”
The bridge was not significantly larger than a cockpit. There were four stations, all facing one another in a circle. In the center lay a holotank that currently displayed the bow-view no matter what angle you looked at it from.
Jacy had assigned me comms while Cynthia was responsible for engineering.
“Board’s green,” the chief announced after a minute. “Clearances?”
I nodded. “Our vector is approved, no tug required.”
“Good thing,” Jacy snorted. “Most of Fallon’s tugs are bigger than the Firelight. OK, here goes.”
A dull thud echoed through the ship as the umbilical and docking clamps let go. With the mechanical connection gone, the ship began to slide down the docking rails, flung away from the ring’s outer skin by inertial force. Magnetic fields added to the acceleration, and by the time the craft was clear of the ring, it had reached thirty meters per second.
Jacy deftly spun the craft and fired up the grav drives, shifting into our outbound lane at the maximum speed allowed within the station’s nearspace.
The bridge was shrouded in silence until we crossed the marker. We shifted vector again before Jacy fired up the fusion drives. A low thrum reverberated through the deck plate for the first few seconds, until the internal dampening systems filtered the vibration out.
“All within spec,” Cynthia confirmed. “We’ll be warmed up in two light seconds, and then you can apply full boost.”
“Good.” Jacy leant back in her seat. “I suppose we might as well have our talk right here.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I nodded curtly.
“Oh, stars,” the colonel drew the word out, adding a nasal twinge. “You sound so military, I can see the starch pouring out of every…well…pore. You need to relax, Sherry. You grew up on a mining rig. Tap into that. Loosen up and talk like a real spacer, not some rod-up-the-ass prick.”
Jacy’s words hit me like a slap in the face, and though she was smiling, I decided to do as ordered and give as good as I got.
“Least I don’t have a full bird shoved up there.”
The colonel laughed. “Oh, I like that. Now whenever I hear ‘full bird colonel’, that’s going to come to mind. Nice.”
“The mission?” Cynthia prompted.
“Right.” Jacy nodded. “I’ll just get right to it. Recently, a syndicate in Chal got their hands on three crates of DSA defense NSAI cores. These cores contain data on the Delphian targeting systems, IFF signal patterns, sensor grids, and likely even have access code repositories, as well as functional encryption systems.”
“Shiiiit,” I whispered. “That’s like a back door into their…everything.”
Jacy laughed. “Pretty much, yeah.”
“How did some syndicate out in Chal get their hands on this?” Cynthia asked.
“The build-up,” I said. “They’re already doing it. The DSA is establishing themselves in Chal.”
The colonel gave me an appreciative nod. “That’s the assessment, yes. It’s normal for goods to leak when shipped through Chal—a little bit skimmed at each stop. Well, in this case, someone skimmed the wrong stuff and these cores got out into the wild. Even better, so far as we can tell, the DSA doesn’t know they’re gone yet.”
Cynthia shook her head. “That seems unlikely, but given how things can be in Chal, I’ll allow for i
t as a possibility.”
“How magnanimous of you,” Jacy said with a laugh. “Even if they’ve changed codes and the cores are locked out, their databases will be invaluable. Not only that, the Delphians will scramble to move assets around, and they’ll make mistakes. Opportunities abound.”
“So what’s the play?” the chief asked. “Standard handoff?”
“You wish.” Jacy laughed and slapped the console.
I found the gesture overdramatic, but then again it was likely that every aspect of her behavior was considered and constructed.
“Things are a bit trickier than that,” Jacy continued after a moment’s pause. “There’s an arms dealer in Delphi named Korinth that we’ve worked with from time to time. He put out feelers for what people would be willing to pay for DSA cores a few weeks back. We got word and made an offer. Things looked like they were progressing well, but then he canceled the buy.”
“Why would he do that?” I asked. “Do you think that the DSA got wind and made a better offer?”
Jacy shrugged. “A lot of people might have made a better offer. Or maybe smaller interests made good offers on just one core each, and Korinth decided he could do better separating them. We got an agent out to Chal in an attempt to beat Korinth’s courier, but they didn’t make it in time, and the other courier got the package. From what we hear, there was a bit of a dust-up, too. Either way, the cores are on their way to Korinth—already in the dark layer by now.”
“How will we beat them to Delphi?” I asked.
“The courier ship was low-v when it transitioned,” Jacy replied. “Plus, with the interstellar medium thick around the barycenter, they’ll have a slow transit. Our little bird can kick up to 0.7c before transition, so we’ll be able to beat them to Delphi. Barely.”
Cynthia and I shared a worried look, and I asked, “So we’re going to hit another ship when it’s already in the Delphi System?”
“Why do you think you were selected for this op, Sherry? You’re smart, you get the big picture, and you know which end of the rifle to point at the bad guys. You’ve also lived a hard life on stations and know how to get around without being seen. We’ll be in and out before anyone knows. The ship’s a hunk of junk, too. We’ll just blow it once we have what we need, and that’ll be that.”