by Kal Spriggs
“Back to Project Tsunami, then?” Rawn asked.
“For now,” Colonel Frost nodded. “But have your people run some additional rehearsals for the boarding, too. I want them to know the inside of a Lucas-class battlecruiser like the back of their hands.”
“Of course, sir,” Rawn nodded. He had some doubts about the schematics they'd been able to pull up. There hadn't been many Lucas-class battlecruisers commissioned. The ship had been heavily damaged before being salvaged and recommissioned, odds were that the mercenaries had rebuilt her considerably, so who knew what had changed?
Still, Rawn thought to himself, no matter what, boarding the Tenacity won't be anywhere near as bad as boarding the Fenris...
***
Chapter 6
Time: 1000 Zulu, 5 February 292 G.D.
Location: Harmony System
Mel and the others were gathered in the briefing room. They normally didn't do formal meetings, but sometimes she found it necessary to assemble everyone. They had important decisions to make, and to make those decisions, she needed the best information available. “Commodore Creed is tired of us delaying on an interview with Samantha Yewell. We're going to have to look at other options.” Mel began. The only one who wasn't present was Brian, who was on duty outside of Admiral Rao's quarters.
“Yes, Mel,” Fenris replied. “Shall I develop a further mechanical issue?”
Mel bit her lip. They'd stalled on any further meetings as a security measure. Half of it was to protect Nashim Rao, the other half to protect their covers, since the last thing they wanted was for any potential enemies to start wondering why there were so few people on such a large and presumably crew intensive vessel.
“No,” Mel decided, “we've stalled as long as we can, I think.” She looked over at Aldera Kynes, “I believe you mentioned we need a variety of mechanical parts?”
“Ja,” Kynes nodded, “Fenris can produce most of them, but it would be simpler to purchase them, plus it will lead to fewer questions about why we do not purchase any maintenance equipment.”
“Yeah, I'd like to head off those kinds of questions,” Mel said. Most ships didn’t have room for full workshops and parts factories, since they had to have areas for food storage, crew bunkroom, and all that came with having a crew. Fenris didn’t need any of that so he had quite a bit more independence than most warships. He couldn’t manufacture full weapons systems or other major items, but he could put together most of the parts they needed for maintenance from basic stocks, pretty much everything they needed except for items that required extreme precision or very complex circuitry.
“We're getting a bit low on fresh food and some specialty supplies,” Marcus noted.
“I can restock some of the medical supplies I used after our extraction,” Tank nodded.
Mel considered that. “Okay, let's try to schedule as much of this at once as possible so as to minimize our exposure.” She frowned, “How much can we set up remotely and how much will need to be done in person?”
“Most of my purchases should be done in person,” Aldera said after a thoughtful moment. The scientist cocked her head as she contemplated the situation. “I will need to personally inspect the parts and verify they are of good quality. Normally I would not be concerned, but since the situation in the system is unstable...”
“Probably all kinds of people running scams,” Mel nodded. “Okay, Bob, can you accompany her?”
“Of course,” Bob Walker nodded.
“Our other supplies?” Mel asked.
Tank and Marcus-- Nigel, Mel reminded herself, for she'd promised him a fresh start-- looked at each other. “I think it would be best that we purchased the food in person,” Marcus said. “Less likely that someone will intercept it and lace it with poison or something like that if we're on scene.”
“I'd like to make my purchases in person as well,” Johnny Woodard nodded.
“Right, you two will go together. I'd like all four of you on the same shuttle, I think,” Mel decided. “And I want you headed up to dock around the same time as we schedule Yewell's arrival.” Mel cocked her head, “Swaim, as soon as your mother comes aboard, I want you to remain in your quarters.”
The young, blonde man scowled at that. Mel gave him a glare in reply. “This is for her protection as much as ours,” Mel snapped.
“Fine,” Swaim grumbled. “But if Brian so much as--”
“You know,” Tank commented, “letting on that you're defensive about this is just going to encourage him, right?”
“Moving on,” Mel snapped, “No one is to have direct contact with Samantha Yewell other than myself and our guest, only as necessary. Brian will be on guard outside.”
“That's going to leave us all stretched pretty thin,” Tank noted. “Even if we are docking around the same time, we'll still need to unload supplies and in the meantime, the only crewmember in any position to help you or Brian will be Swaim. He's not any kind of serious backup.” He shot the hacker a look, “No offense.”
“I can take care of myself!” Swaim protested.
“It's not ideal,” Mel said, “but I think the threat is more likely to be external. We've already seen a pirate crew take a shot at us, it would be easy enough for another ship to try the same thing. The longer we're stationary to dock with a shuttle or another ship, the more danger we're in.” They had to bring their drive down in order to allow a shuttle to safely come alongside. Undocking was easy, the sequence of maneuvers was quick and leaving a warp field wasn't a problem. It was the docking procedure, where a shuttle had to either match their warp field modulation perfectly with the ship as they docked or else the larger ship had to drop its field entirely.
Otherwise there was a significant risk that the shuttle would be either ripped apart by the interaction between warp fields or have its warp drive burned out and then be destroyed by the larger ship's warp field.
Dropping a field in a combat situation was one thing. Doing it to bring aboard a civilian shuttle was a different matter entirely.
The likelihood of a Guard, pirate, or even another mercenary ship taking a shot at them for the potential payout was too high for Mel to feel confident about leaving their drive down for longer than absolutely necessary.
“Alright,” Mel said, “let me know how long your pick-ups will take. We'll plan off that and tie everything together.”
“Oh, joy,” Bob muttered.
“You have some reason why we shouldn't do it this way?” Mel asked.
“I do, but not one I can go into...” Bob grimaced. “Let's just say there's some signs of activity here tied to what I'm investigating.”
Mel gave him a level look, “Related to whatever the hell Giles was?”
The entire room had gone still. Most of the others hadn't been present for the entire encounter... the exceptions were Mel and Bob. Johnny Woodard had seen parts of it. Fenris had seen parts. But all of them had heard what Mel had been willing to speak about. Giles had risen from the dead. He'd used some kind of biological-based technology that he'd used to make dead men walk and carry out his orders... and he'd tried to turn Mel into one of them.
Bob didn't answer for a long moment. When he did speak, she could tell that he chose every word carefully. “What Giles was... what he was capable of, yes, that ties into what I'm looking into... and the people I'm hunting are the type to be drawn to a volatile situation like we see here in the Harmony Protectorate.”
“Great,” Mel sighed. “Okay, will you need more time than a shopping trip with Aldera?”
“A day or two would be the minimum,” Bob admitted.
“We'll look at recovery after the interview,” Mel pursed her lips. “If things start happening, you're going to be on your own.”
Bob gave a cheerful smile and patted his BFR twenty-five millimeter. “Captain, while it may surprise you, I've done well enough on my own before. Though I appreciate your concern.”
Mel swallowed a bit at that. She didn't like the tho
ught of leaving one of their people behind where they couldn't be recovered. Then again, Bob wasn't really one of “their” people. Bob was an agent for an unknown party. He'd worked with them for a long time, but he wasn't “one” of them. He could go his own way and he had an organization to fall back on.
“Fine,” Mel nodded, “I'll message the Commodore to set up this interview.” She just hoped it went smoothly and with as few issues as possible.
***
Punatra stepped into Colonel Steyn's office. The Guard Army commander stood from his desk and moved out of the way while Punatra took the man's chair and put his feet up on the officer's desk. “Report.”
“As directed, a Special Service infiltration team has been put into place. Should I direct them to proceed?” Colonel Steyn's voice was measured and calm. He showed no emotion, nor did he possess any particular intellectual brilliance.
Punatra brought up the details on the man's computer. The Guard Army Special Service teams were their direct action elements. They performed a wide range of special purpose missions, ranging from assassination to VIP escort missions. They tended to receive the best pay, the best incentives, and they operated similar to the Soldat of Punatra's Chandral Empire.
This Special Service team had infiltrated their assigned position and were ready to move, a small team designated for just such a task. If the operation went well, it would seize the information that Punatra needed. If it didn't, the team would almost certainly be killed, ideally without identifying themselves or their mission.
Punatra didn't care for a moment about their lives. Even if they'd been Soldat, he would not hesitate to sacrifice them for even a minor gain, much less what he hoped to achieve here in the Harmony Protectorate. Life was cheap among the Chandral. The lives of apru were even cheaper.
What Punatra hesitated over was whether he trusted the apru to achieve his goals, without making his task even more difficult. The Guard had already nearly lost control over the situation. If they failed, then the Harmony Protectorate would most likely stabilize in a fashion that made it a substantial stumbling block for him in the long term.
If they fail, I will have Colonel Steyn to enact whatever levels of force necessary to destroy the Protectorate, Punatra thought to himself. The Colonel didn't control very much in the way of space forces, as the surviving senior officer he commanded the task force assigned to the Protectorate's capital, Kharma City, which included a battalion of combat skimmers and a squadron of customs interdiction vessels.
The skimmers couldn't really exit the atmosphere and the interdiction vessels didn't mount anything capable of engaging larger ships, but combined they'd have enough firepower to level the capital and most of the planet's other major cities. The destruction of infrastructure and loss of life would be substantial. If I enact such protocols, then it will not matter if the team fails... though it would be best if I am out of the system when it occurs...
“Give the order,” Punatra commanded. “When the team succeeds, deliver the information to me through the normal channels. If they fail, I am to be notified immediately.”
“Of course, sir,” Colonel Steyn nodded.
Punatra browsed through the Colonel's computer for a few more minutes, verifying that the other host of tasks he'd assigned had been carried out. Most of them were accomplished. The Colonel had personally drafted or assigned the most important orders to be written. Punatra downloaded those orders, which would allow him to pass freely through Guard Space and to avoid any troublesome inspections. The others were not nearly as time-sensitive and Punatra could see that the tasks were at least started. Barring any significant issues, that should leave Colonel Steyn capable of accomplishing them... short of a catastrophic failure.
“Additionally,” Punatra said, “have your people draft a contingency plan, code-named...” Punatra paused to consider it. He gave a broad smile as an idea came to him, “Operation Ragnorak. The official contingency is if the Harmony Independence Party looks to win the election and allow Guard Free Now sanctuary in their space. The contingency will be that you will make full use of tactical and strategic weapons to destroy the Protectorate's major cities on this planet and in the other star systems within the Protectorate.”
Punatra waited while the Colonel absorbed that. He felt he should spell things out more, especially since the parasitic worm that subsumed the man's free will to Punatra also limited the man's ability to expand upon his orders. “The stated goals of this contingency would be to maximize destruction of the planet's infrastructure, inflict retaliatory strikes against the population for their support of a terrorist organization, and to destroy their ability to support your enemies.”
Those efforts would also turn such actions into an atrocity, but by labeling it as a contingency, most of the Guard Army and Fleet personnel who would draft up the orders wouldn't stop to consider that. It would simply be an exercise, to them... right up until the apru carried it out.
“In reality, I will notify you when or if it shall become necessary and you will have your most loyal officers carry it out,” Punatra ordered. Even then, some would hesitate, but if Punatra timed it with some additional efforts, he could reliably plan on the apru's heightened emotions getting the better of them. A bombing of a barracks building or the rape and murder of some of their personnel on leave would be easy enough to arrange as a trigger... the apru are so easy to manipulate.
“That is all, for now. Notify me when your Special Service personnel are either successful... or not,” Punatra commanded. His feet dropped to the floor and he stood in a smooth motion. He didn't bother to say any kind of farewell to the mind-controlled officer. In many ways, Colonel Steyn had ceased to be anything beyond an extension of Punatra's will. He had no more free will or self-determination than his computer, merely an easier interface and some ability to select methods to complete his tasks based on his knowledge and experience.
Punatra stepped into the Colonel's outer office and closed the doors behind him. The Colonel's female secretary, a uniformed female who wore more makeup than the Guard Army Regulations allowed for, greeted him with a friendly smile. A waste, Punatra thought to himself, that the Colonel had access to such a woman. Punatra would have put her in his harem and bred her with his line. The Colonel had used her merely for pleasure... and even then, it wasn't as if the Colonel's genetics were of any worth.
Punatra barely spared the woman a look and continued past her desk and then down the stairs and out of the building. He paused on the steps, taking a moment to consider his next moves, even as his soldat security contingent assembled around him. They were hand-selected men, each of them tough and capable, each from loyal families back in the Chandral Empire. They moved around him in a tight formation, protecting him as much from exposure to the unclean apru as from any physical threats. They nearly bowled over a civilian on the steps and Punatra didn't bother to hide his sneer of derision at the short, portly human... the over-civilized apru lived in such times of decadence. They should not have the wealth for their lower classes to grow fat. Their betters, their elite, should not allow themselves that level of weakness, either. It would be something that he would enjoy purging them of... their sloth and weaknesses.
As his escort assisted him into his ground car, Punatra spared a look back at Colonel Steyn's headquarters. Whether this latest assignment succeeded or failed, Punatra felt certain that this would be the last time he visited the building.
***
Bob Walker breathed a silent sigh of relief as the convoy of low, sleek vehicles swept away.
He had come to investigate some of the rumors that his agents had reported about the acting-commander for the Guard Peacekeeper Force on Harmony. Simple things like a sudden decrease in social interaction and a loss of interest in his regular mistress were things that popped up on Walker's radar. They could be signs of just about anything... or they could be signs that the man had been compromised.
Bob had investigated dozens of such leads
across human space. He and the people he worked for spent thousands of hours trying to identify, confirm, and exterminate the Chandral Empire's spies and agents in Guard Space. One such lead had put Bob aboard a pirate corvette that had been known to associate with elements of Guard Free Now, which had landed him in the midst of the whole Fenris matter.
Just as the leads today had brought him face to face with another Chandral agent. The one who had worn the identity of Giles had been a junior operative, a Chandral sleeper agent, one who hadn't even known his own identity until he’d been inadvertently activated. Someone had planted him with a cover personality to allow him to infiltrate human society more efficiently.
There'd still been little signs, just enough for Bob to be sent to investigate.
Bob had encountered other Chandral agents, several sleeper agents, even a few of the more senior agents. He had never before encountered someone with a full security team of soldat, however. As far as he knew, his organization hadn't even suspected that soldat were authorized to operate within Guard Space. Still, the men all had the distinctive looks: the broad shoulders, angular features, and hairless bodies. Even if individually they could pass as normal humans, the arrogance that poured off them and the fact that they all looked as if they’d come off the same factory line both made them stand out to Bob’s trained eye.
Bob watched as the convoy disappeared around the corner. Some part of him wondered if he should have simply drawn his pistol and executed the enemy agent, yet he didn't know if he would have succeeded, even with the element of surprise. Even if he had, he would have died before he could do more than fire. Without back-up, no one would know what had happened... and if this was some major effort on the part of the Chandral, his people needed to know about it.
Bob turned back to the headquarters building and stepped inside. The guards glowered at him and he was careful to keep his hands where they could see them, well away from concealed holster inside his jacket containing his BFR 25. “Gentlemen, sorry, my boss, the man who just left, he told me he left his datapad upstairs.”