by M. D. Cooper
* * * * *
While the infiltration team crept back along the passageway to the shuttle awaiting them, Terrance and Kodi were engaged in a campaign of distraction.
Earlier, Deb Weir had helpfully supplied them with a list of the various types of legal motions they could file against Barat. Shortly thereafter, Terrance had appeared at the entrance to Barat’s customs offices, holojournalists in tow.
He’d vociferously demanded the return of his ship’s captain, while Kodi flooded the system with every legal filing against Barat that he could contrive. Affidavit of complaints, interrogatories, discoveries, motions to examine judgments and the like were heaped upon the hapless citizen soldier on duty. The AI had even sent messages across the interstellar relays that would—in decades hence—file suits against the nation of Barat on behalf of the Enfield Corporation in three different star systems. One after another, they rapidly stacked up, while, across the street in Godel territory, picketers began chanting slogans and hoisting signs.
Terrance was all too aware that the cameras hovering behind the crowd were likely the only things that prevented the soldiers from employing aggressive crowd control. That, plus the platoon of Godel peacekeepers who stood, weapons in hand, guarding their backs.
He also was aware that the Enfield name made him an attractive target. He didn’t doubt Barat would love to take him prisoner, too—held hostage for his own damn IP. Although, at this point, they might just do it to shut him up.
Terrance stepped back as Hailey—posing as a news reporter for the Tau Ceti Sentinel, a fictitious news net—finished the wrap-up for her latest color commentary.
Terrance snorted mentally.
He prepared to launch into another round of protests, but pulled up short as Jonesy’s voice came across the ship’s net.
His gaze swept their group, gathering them with a look, and received slight nods in response. Hailey’s eyelids flickered, but she gave no other indication she’d heard, as she smoothly drew her broadcast to a close.
“I think we’re done here, people,” Terrance said, shooting the Barat patrol a look of anger and frustration that, for the first time since they had arrived, wasn’t feigned.
* * * * *
Tama announced as the two fireteams approached the station airlock where the Sable Wind had docked.
A recording popped up on Jason’s HUD, a view of the ground floor lifts in the building where they’d found the Godel analyst. The corridor just off the entrance was empty—until two soldiers walked into view. They glanced around and then slipped inside the stairwell, the one behind already reaching his arm around the other’s waist for a few stolen moments together.
Before the door could close behind them, the rearmost soldier stumbled back, an alarmed look on his face as he turned to call out. Moments later, Calista burst through the door, pulse pistol in hand. She raised it toward a small group of soldiers rushing toward her. Firing off a series of shots, she leapt over them, and then raced out of the camera’s frame, several soldiers in hot pursuit.
The image flickered, stabilized. Now the view was of the grounds outside, and Jason could see from the angle that the camera was either mounted on the waste reclamation building or the guard tower just south of it.
Calista sped toward the main exit, her path zig-zagging to evade fire coming at her from behind. He sucked in a breath as he saw the IR signature of a ranging beam emitted from the tower across the grounds.
In the next moment, Calista’s body jerked twice, then she face-planted into the ground as a pulse cannon hit her. An officer he recognized, the leader of the three who had stopped them in the bazaar, approached and motioned her soldiers toward Calista.
They lifted the insensate woman high enough for the officer to bend down and whisper something into Calista’s ear. The woman then straightened and motioned her soldiers to load their barely conscious prisoner onto a transport.
His mouth tightened in dismay as the transport exited through the compound’s main gates.
The team cycled through the airlock and loaded into the shuttle in silence, Simone helping Ramon stabilize the rescued Godel analyst with the shuttle’s triage kit.
The ultra-black shape disengaged from the surface of the duty station, joined by its sleek shadow. Half an hour later and more than a hundred kilometers away, both began their descent into an open hangar bay on the other side of the rotating wheel. The two ships settled onto their rails, and the bay doors began to close just as the fusion-powered mini sun began to blaze, heralding the start of another day.
PART FOUR: THE PLOT
INTERIM PLAN
STELLAR DATE: 03.10.3272 (Adjusted Gregorian) 0600 hours, local
LOCATION: ESS Avon Vale, en route to Godel
REGION: Inner System, Little River
Sable Wind was on final approach, the amidships bay doors open and waiting for them. Jason spied Terrance and Jonesy standing behind the secondary ES shield as Logan and Charley piloted the two ships into their cradles. As soon as atmosphere was restored to the ship’s bay, both men strode forward.
Jason exchanged silent nods with Jonesy as Landon released the shuttle’s hatch and extended its ramp. Too wired to stand still, he leapt to the shuttle bay’s deck and began a walkaround, visually inspecting the Sable Wind while the rest of the team unloaded.
He saw Jonesy maneuver Charley’s frame next to the Mirage and ride the lift to the fighter’s cockpit to extract the AI. Turning back, he caught Terrance’s eye as the man stood, feet braced at an almost parade rest while waiting for the crew to clean up the shuttle and disembark.
Shannon’s holopresence appeared on the deck between the two ships, and her words distracted them both, cutting into the weary silence that had befallen the team on their way back. “If we leave now, we can intercept them,” she said as her avatar appeared next to Terrance.
Her thoughts echoed Jason’s own desperate need to take action, but he had enough presence of mind to realize that reckless haste was ill-advised.
Besides, no one in Little River knew the Avon Vale’s true capabilities. Her antimatter-pion drive had been disguised, as had her not-insignificant weapons array. Eight massive, twenty-five-centimeter lasers were paired, four at the bow and four aft, and she had a dozen ten-centimeter rails emplaced along her three-kilometer length. Missile tubes had been incorporated into the fore and aft decks, with a rate of fire at four per second. All of these armaments had been hidden behind plates of Elastene cladding; the hull plating could be slid aside in seconds to free the ports for use.
And that didn’t take into account the number of tactical nuclear warheads Landon had insisted on outfitting the ship
with prior to its departure from Tau Ceti.
In other words, the ESS Avon Vale was one big, three-kilometer-long Q-ship.
Jason shot Shannon a warning look, but before he could say anything, Jonesy did.
The engineer straightened, Charlie’s cylinder in hand, and shot the ship’s AI a repressive scowl. “Shannon, we’re a civilian ship.” His tone was one of warning, as his gaze flicked pointedly to Simone and then back.
Jason could tell Simone was studiously ignoring the exchange. Her attention appeared to be focused entirely on helping Marta secure the rescued Godel agent onto a gurney for her transfer to a Phaethon medical team that was standing by at the marina. Simone was doing a good imitation of someone completely absorbed in her task, but he knew she was well aware of the conversations around her.
“We can catch those bastards,” Shannon insisted, “and we can board their ship and take Calista.”
At that, Simone reluctantly stirred. “I…don’t think that’s your best use of resources,” she began, but Shannon stopped her with a thunderous expression.
“You have no idea what we’re capable of,” she flung at Simone and then turned pleading eyes to Terrance. “We’ve got to at least try….”
Terrance looked from the ship’s AI to Simone and then back again. “What do you suggest, then?” he asked, his tone neutral.
“There are a few places where you might intercept their ship before it reaches Barat,” Simone admitted, “but honestly, your best chance is after they reach the planet.”
Jason crossed his arms and leant back against the Sable Wind’s cowling as he did a bit of spatial math. He didn’t like the result.
“Doing that means we leave Calista to Barat’s mercy for another three days,” he scowled, advancing slowly upon Simone. “Explain to me why that’s a good idea.”
“Because you still hold all the cards. They won’t want to hurt her,” the AI explained, “and risk not making the tech exchange.”
Jason glanced at Tobias, who had descended the ramp and now stood, shoulder to shoulder alongside him. The Weapon Born’s emotions were closed to Jason, his expression unreadable.
No help from that quadrant.
“There’s another thing to consider,” Simone added. “If you wait until they arrive on Barat, we’ll have the resources of an entire underground network on that planet ready to assist you.”
The AI’s expression was earnest as she attempted to convince them to follow her advice.
“Barat is a rigidly structured society; because of that, there are things in place that we can exploit. Their penal colonies, while heavily guarded, are also run on a software that uses a long-forgotten codebase, stolen from Godel decades ago. We can get you in and then out again, with no one the wiser.”
Terrance nodded slowly, his gaze sweeping the team, and Jason knew the man saw the fatigue that plagued them all. Unconsciously, he straightened into a stance of readiness, his look daring Terrance to say otherwise.
The executive sighed.
“The good news is that any in-system departure from Phaethon right now is going to be along the same path, given the station’s current position. So we’re headed in the same direction, regardless. Hailey’s already asked for an expedited departure, so we’ll be on our way very soon.”
* * * * *
Two hours later, Jason found himself scowling at his hazy reflection in the brushed-metal surface of the lift doors as he stood waiting for one to take him from the cargo area down to the engineering deck, where the armory was located.
They’d received clearance from the STC for departure and filed a flight path for Godel. As acting captain, Jason had shepherded the Avon Vale out of nearspace and onto their current heading and then handed the bridge over to Landon.
The humans who had participated in the infiltration operation had been awake more than twenty-seven hours. He’d taken himself off-shift for the next ten.
Though he knew sack time was a must, Jason was too tightly strung for sleep. He knew that if he didn’t work off some of the energy coiled within him, sleep would evade him altogether.
There’s always the firing range…or I could jam some iron in the weight room.
If all else failed, he could turn on the holo and beat the hell out of the sim with a few Kai-Eskrima moves.
What he wasn’t going to do was stand around waiting all day for the stars-be-damned lift. He turned on his heel, heading for the access shaft and the ladder that would take him there, albeit not as quickly.
“In a hurry?”
The voice at his shoulder came without warning, and served as a catalyst for his L2 reflexes. He had Lena shoved up against the bulkhead, his arm across her throat and his fist pulled back, ready to pound, before she had time to take a breath.
“Sorry,” he muttered, releasing her and stalking toward the stairs.
The lift chimed and he pivoted, reversing his direction before the Marine had time to blink.
Before the doors slid shut, she raced forward and joined him, one hand massaging her throat.
Opting to use the Link, most likely to give her ravaged throat a chance to recover, Jason heard Lena sigh before responding to the AI paired with her.
Jason only grunted at Tama’s comment as he slid Lena a sidelong look. He considered apologizing again, but he just couldn’t work up the energy.
He heard her swallow. The sound was overly loud, and he knew from past experience that a throat block like the one he’d just given her would make swallowing a painful experience for another hour or so.
Movement at her waist caught his attention, and he saw her slide the carbon-fiber blade that all Marines carried back into its sheath. She caught his gaze and gave him a wink.
Looks like I’m not the only one with fast reflexes. He gave her a respectful nod. “I’m impressed.”
The lift stopped at the deck that held the common area, and he gestured for the Marine to exit first, then strode toward the nearest galley. Stopping in front of a chiller, he grabbed a bottle of water and held it out to her.
“Sorry,” he said again and winced mentally at the surly tone he heard in his own voice. “Rough day.”
The Marine nodded her thanks as she uncapped the bottle and took a long pull from it.
“Killer reflexes,” she finally said, her voice raspy. “And I do mean that literally.”
She gestured over to a table, brows raised in a questioning look. Jason hesitated, then nodded and followed her over, slumping into a chair. Lena set the bottle of water down and sat across from him.
“Where were you headed just now?” she asked.
Jason shrugged. “It’s a three-day trip to Godel from Phaethon. Thought I’d use the time to do some range work in the armory.”
What he didn’t mention—what was on everyone’s mind—was that it would only take seven hours more to travel to Barat, given the current orbital locations of the planets relative to Phaethon.
“You’re pissed that we’re not headed directly there,” Lena guessed.
Although it sounded more like a statement, he nodded anyway, fingers sliding back and forth across the edge of the table, his hands restless with pent-up rage.
“What’s there to say? Simone talked Terrance into letting her come along with us,” he slammed his palms flat on the table’s
surface as he growled, “and then she did her damnedest to convince everyone that the best way to get Calista back was to go to Godel first.”
Lena raised an eyebrow skeptically as Tama observed,
“Actually, lass,” a voice came from behind Jason, and he turned to see Tobias approaching. “What he said was that hope was not a plan, and charging out with little more than that as your strategy was a piss-poor way to get her back.”
Jason glared at his friend. “Don’t recall asking your opinion on the matter.”
“Don’t recall you doing much opinion-asking at any stage of your life, boyo.”
The Weapon Born’s tone was mild. He crossed behind Jason, settling a hand on his shoulder briefly as he folded his frame into a chair.
“The thing is,” he continued, “you and I both know that the best possible plan is the one that has the backing and support of Godel’s intelligence community behind it.”
“Fine.”
Lena caught Tobias’s eye. “Is he always this stubborn and surly?”
Tobias made a sound that was a cross between a snort and a laugh. “Only when we don’t let him charge off into the black on his own.”
“Well, gee, Tobe,” Jason let his voice sink into heavy sarcasm. “If I’d known this was shit-on-Jason hour, I woulda looked you up sooner.”
The AI fell still and stared pointedly at him.
Jason slouched back in his chair, dragging his hands through the snarls of his short-cropped, dirty blonde hair. His scalp felt gritty, and his hands came back feeling greasy.
“Huh, speaking of shit,” he responded absently, rubbing his fingers together. He’d almost forgotten their trek through the tank of sludge six hours earlier.
His comment had Lena reaching up to her own hair. She made a face, then pushed back from the table.