Captive Embers (The Wardens' Game Book 1)

by Brian Mansur

  The intel officer paced a few steps. “Lilith’s possession of nukes would be an alarming development, but not panic-inducing. Without an Arbiter, the Wardens won’t let nukes be detonated unless fired from a warship.” The picture of the cargo pods reappeared. “If you look carefully at the crates in the adjacent pod…”

  Sarah did and felt her blood freeze. In the cargo box sat an A.I.’s cylinder with an ivory Arbiter attached to it. She stared at it with fascinated horror. Around her, more than one person swore.

  “Bottom line,” Blake said, “Lilith’s cartel has several self-contained, colony-busting missile packages ready to launch from whichever cargo boxes are carrying them.”

  Someone on the wall with full commander’s rank asked, “What do the smugglers intend to do with these weapons?”

  Blake said, “Sir, your guess is as good as mine at this point. We don’t know if Lilith’s gang intends to attack anyone or if they are shipping to a buyer. It could be both.

  “Obviously, such a weapons loadout would let them hold a colony ransom. They could also trigger Unrestricted Warfare ahead of an invasion force. The Celesians used this feature to help them conquer their corner of the star system, at least until we took their Arbiter out in the last war.”

  Someone else asked, “Is the Lakshmian government behind this?”

  “We don’t know that either,” the intel officer admitted. “Lakshmi has spent the last decade focused on rebuilding from the Belian Revolution. Their prime minister, Shaasti Dalip, doesn’t have a spotless human rights record, but he hasn’t encouraged expansionism for his colony either. As I said before, all we have are theories.”

  Blake flipped to the slide of a freighter. “Now, you might wonder how the smugglers hope to move these things around. All shipping containers are supposed to be x-rayed when passing through a port. The problem is, most Belian colonies can’t afford to lease A.I. processing power from the Wardens. So, no one wants to task what little they have to handle things people can do, like overseeing customs checks. Since every Belian colony has an entrenched culture of corruption, illicit items get through with a fair amount of ease.”

  The commander’s analysis sent a wave of resentment across Sarah’s chest. What nightmares would she witness because people refused to act responsibly? Everyone knew that civilization at Cervantes had wiped itself out more than once since the exile from Earth. She didn’t want to think they were at the beginning of yet another system-wide war.

  “As if this weren’t enough,” Blake said, “Arbiters have built-in radios using Warden frequencies. Jamming them to prevent remote-controlled attacks isn’t an option. Unfortunately, we believe that some Arbiters with nukes have already left Lakshmi. Detection and interception are our only defenses now. Which leads us to our mission.

  “We’re going to interdict and inspect cargo ships coming out of Lakshmi. The one bit of good news in all of this is that we traced several of the containers you saw in those photos. We know which freighters many shipped on. Since the Wardens won’t let us buy the means to remotely scan the pods, we’re sending boarding parties to check the boxes.

  “The inspection specialists will work the portable backscatter x-ray machines while the marines provide security. I will personally interrogate crew members. Meanwhile, the medics will run goodwill health and wellness checks.”

  Blake spent the next half-hour reviewing their search-and-seizure tactics. He covered at length how they should react if they found an Arbiter or resistance. When his presentation dissolved, Paulson took back the stage.

  “Thank you, Commander Blake,” she said. “Ladies and gentlemen, I know this is a lot to take in. For the record, you’re authorized to wear your brown pants for the next twenty-four hours.” The venerable bromide failed to draw a single chuckle from the shocked crowd. “After that, I expect everyone to have their crap together.”

  Paulson glanced downward before continuing. “Every available ship has been tasked to this mission. I’m one of those who helped convinced BELCOM to give its captains discretion over how much intel we felt should be provided to our crews. So, you understand the special trust I have placed in each one of you by sharing this information. You need to know the danger you are in and what is at stake.”

  Sarah’s eyes switched to Blake. His jaw had set, and his mouth thinned to a tight line. He wanted to keep all this secret. She found herself wishing the man had gotten his way. It’d be easier for her to work without worrying about the fate of well… everyone.

  Paulson tried to rally her crew. “Do your jobs like the professionals you are, and you will save lives. We launch in two hours. Good hunting. Chief of the boat, put them to work.”

  The captain stepped down from the stage. As the senior-most enlisted crew member rose to instruct the assembly, Sarah bit her lower lip. The adventure had ended before it could begin.

  4

  Location: Hastings family residence, Zeus Station_

  Rafe Hastings watched his wife, Chief Petty Officer Gita Tiwari-Hastings, wade through their private pool’s shallow end. Clad in a plain white bikini, Gita held their nine-year-old daughter, Anna, atop her shoulders. Rafe didn’t think he’d ever seen a more perfect picture of maternal beauty before. He was wishing he had a camera handy when heels jabbed at his ribs.

  “Move up dad,” his other child, Karen, ordered from above him. Rafe laughed as his twelve-year-old bucked upon his neck like a horse jockey. He often marveled at how closely Karen resembled her mother: from their caramel skin and almond eyes to their petite statures to their assertive dispositions. In obedience, Rafe glided through the waters toward Anna and Gita.

  The parents brought the girls within grasping distance, and a feisty match ensued. Rafe soaked in giggles and squeals as the children tried to topple one another. He knew with a dull prick of sadness that he wouldn’t hear them again for perhaps half a year.

  Gita said, “Watch your fingernails, kids.”

  Struggling to hold Karen up, Rafe chuckled at his wife’s obsession over safety. The children yelped with glee as they fell off their parents, crashed through the glassy surface and came up splashing at one another. Each claimed victory, of course.

  After frolicking a while longer with their children, Rafe and Gita moved off to the pool-side chairs. The daughters took to jumping off the diving board, cannonball style, in a game to spray their parents. Rafe welcomed the soothing sprinkles as he rested his chlorine-seared eyes.

  “Rafe,” Gita whispered so the children wouldn’t hear.

  He recognized her stern tone and peeked through one lid. The sight of his solemn-faced wife lying on her side greeted him. She had propped her head up by one hand and allowed the other to drape across her hip.

  Whatever she had in mind, Rafe expected he would have little say in it. Hoping to lighten her mood, he plastered a desirous smile on his face.

  “Are you paying attention,” she asked.

  “With you wearing that bikini? I don’t know how I could possibly pay you any more attention.”

  Her tone sharpened. “Listen carefully, or I’ll put on a robe.”

  Rafe quirked an eyebrow. “And here I thought you slipped on that sexy number to treat me before I leave.”

  “I did, and if you want what is under it, you’ll listen very closely.”

  Rafe’s smile dissolved. He drew up his feet. She knew how much he resented her use of sex as a bargaining tool.

  Before Rafe could rebuke Gita for her tactic, she said, “I want you to make sure this is the last time you play spy.”

  Rafe sat up and leveled a contemplative gaze at his wife of thirteen years. “This is a bit sudden. You’re the one who said you wanted us to help at Belia.”

  “I’m not asking for us to leave the Fleet, Rafe. For your family’s sake, I need you to do something less dangerous.”

  Rafe continued to stare thoughtfully at his wife. She’d always been a fiery one—a fighter. Her past, however, had also made her cautious. “May
be the time to talk about this would be after I get back.”

  “This isn’t open for discussion, sluggernaut.” The last word carried a hint of flirtation.

  Rafe’s mouth twitched at the nickname she’d given him so many years ago. “You remember when you first called me that? How long had you been working at that bar on Sundar when I found you?”

  As he’d expected, pain crossed Gita Tiwari-Hastings’ face. Her body tensed. She’d lost her family as a young teen during the Belian Empire’s collapse. Even with her husband, she’d refused to share what else had happened to her.

  Leaning back, she put on a wistful smile and said, “The way you downed drinks back then, you were well on your way to becoming an alcoholic. Good thing you met me when you did.”

  “You were the bar girl serving me the drinks.”

  “Excuse you, I was a manager by the time we met. I had three people working for me.”

  “So why did you always show up to serve me when I dropped by.”

  Gita’s smile turned sly. “I always came out for officers in uniform. Besides which, you kept asking for me.”

  Rafe scratched his neck. “I’m a little hurt. You mean you didn’t call me sluggernaut because I kept those drunks from busting up your bar?”

  “Don’t get cocky. As I recall, you had help that night.”

  Rafe grinned in reminiscence. “How crazy were we to get together back then?” You ever wonder what would have become of us if the chaplain hadn’t been there to straighten us out?”

  Gita tilted her head. “Stay on topic here, Rafe.”

  “Look, Gita, you and I both committed to improving things for your people. That’s half of why you enlisted—so we could both help the Fleet make Belian lives better.”

  “I don’t want us to post elsewhere, Rafe, but fifteen years on from the revolution and the region’s still a mess.”

  Rafe settled back again. “I always come home, don’t I?”

  “Things are much worse this time. I don’t like it, and if it were an option, I’d rather you didn’t leave for this mission either.”

  Privately, Rafe agreed. How had humanity managed to mess up their affairs so badly? They received a steady resource quota from the Wardens according to population and colony size. True, the increases hadn’t kept pace with the rising system-wide population, but the Wardens had provided modern contraception for decades: a not-so-subtle hint for humanity to curb its growth.

  The Celesian Union and the Mykonian Republic had stabilized at around thirty-to-forty million apiece. The Belian colonies, on the other hand, suffered from socio-cultural problems. They’d overcrowded their fifteen colonies with seventy-five million souls. The per-capita scarcity of resources created a chronically impoverished climate and provided powerful incentives to black market criminals for all sorts of illicit items. The comparatively recent civil war hadn’t helped. The net result had been a souring of the entire Cervantes system’s economy.

  Of course, it wasn’t that the Wardens couldn’t give away more resources. The machines ran space-born solar collectors thousands of kilometers across. They could tap the mineral wealth of any planet, moon or asteroid they wished. Unfortunately, they seemed inclined to provide for a system-wide population of only around a hundred million. It made Rafe’s job to help control the weapons trafficking around Belia more urgent.

  Rafe sighed. “You know I have to go.”

  Gita breathed in deep and nodded. “But I can keep you from going after this one.”

  Rafe mulled the possibilities. How would stepping down impact his career? How would it affect Mykon’s peacekeeping mission? And, not altogether facetiously, he wondered what would happen to the night’s pleasures if he didn’t do as his wife asked.

  Abruptly, the pair noticed how quiet the girls had grown. As one, they turned to check on the children and saw them relaxing at the pool’s edge under the diving board. The adults overheard Karen tell Anna, “Go have mom get me a glass of water or you won’t sleep in my room tonight.”

  Rafe stifled a chuckle at his eldest daughter’s imperiousness. Gita proved less inclined to find humor in Karen’s demand. “Be nice to your sister, Karen. She’s the only one you’ve got.”

  Rafe presented a united front with Gita by adding, “You know Anna worries about monsters, Karen. It’s your job to protect her.”

  “Ugh,” Karen replied. “She’s nine already.”

  Gita said, “And you were still scared of what hid in your closet at that age too or don’t you remember?”

  “Yes mom,” Karen said, rolling her eyes.

  Gita turned her attention back to her main target. “It isn’t just you I’m worried about. The people you’re fighting on Lakshmi are mafiosos. Those types hold grudges. What if one of them tracks you back here and hurts or kills us?”

  “Gita, when is the last time Alastair let someone onboard who didn’t belong? When was the last unpunished murder on Zeus for that matter?”

  “It could happen.”

  “We can’t stop living because of what could happen when most likely nothing will.”

  “The girls miss you so much every time you leave. I miss you. This is your fourth deployment since Karen was born. It’s time we had a normal life. You’re not here for half of their school events. They’re missing out on so many little things because of what you do. Karen keeps asking when she can finally get a social net profile. None of us can live free while you are playing spy. And then there is—”

  “Gita,” Rafe said, but his wife sat up and crossed her arms.

  “We have nightmares about you, Rafe. I didn’t want to mention this, but it was after a bad dream about you that Anna started sleeping in Karen’s room. Karen puts up a brave front, but she hates you leaving just as much. It’s your family’s turn to take priority, Rafe.”

  “Gita, there are thousands of kids out there right now living in nightmares. You were one of them once. I can best help them by doing this.”

  Gita dipped her chin in challenge. “Are you going to promise to stay or not?”

  Rafe laid back down. “The right time to talk about it is when I get back.”

  Gita’s features grew cold and tight at his reply. The rest of the afternoon passed with few words spoken between them. The next day while saying his goodbyes, he felt Gita’s disappointment and anger in her limp embrace. He decided it would accomplish nothing to fight over her attitude in front of the children.

  She’s not perfect, and neither are you, he told himself. Deal with it in six months.

  “I’ll be back girls,” he told his gloomy daughters. After kissing them farewell, he left for the base hospital and his surgical makeover. A week later, he shipped out for Lakshmi.

  Location: Lakshmi Colony_

  Rafe remembered that last day at home with vivid clarity. For his wife’s peace of mind, he wished he’d given in to her. After starting his business with Baylor, he’d all but decided this would be his final assignment. It was dark work, and he was tired of it, but right now, he had no choice.

  Consciousness pierced Rafe's throbbing head like a dull blade. He clamped his stinging eyes against a bright light. Moaning, he tried raising both hands to his pounding temples. They wouldn’t move. He couldn’t feel much beyond his shoulders. His mouth felt parched.

  The excruciating headache prompted a ragged sigh as he struggled to make sense of what had happened to him.

  A slap stung his right cheek, drawing him away from his thoughts. It hurt more than he'd have expected.

  He risked blinking once to assess the situation and peeped into the brilliantly lit room. A black-clad figure stood centimeters away.

  "Wake up!" a male voice bellowed.

  Rafe winced. Before he could protest, knuckles struck his face, sending white shocks of flame across his retinas.

  “What the hell are you doing?" Rafe shouted, still trying to force his eyelids open.

  An odd spinning sensation drew his attention. The motion agitated his al
ready uneasy intestines. After a few nauseating rotations, hands wrapped around his bare ribs, jerking him to a halt.

  The man before Rafe said, "Time to get started.”

  Rafe opened his eyes to behold the stern countenance of a trim, sandy-haired man with cold, green eyes. His collection of early middle-aged wrinkles mirrored Rafe’s own. Something about the fellow’s black tunic seemed familiar.

  Memories of being caught flooded Rafe’s mind. He jerked his head about, seeking some means of escape. His wrists had been tied to a rope that ran over a ceiling rafter like a pulley. Given the growing numbness in his arms, he guessed they'd yanked him up when they saw him waking. His toes dangled a foot above the ground. Rafe groaned. Not a stitch of clothing adorned his flesh. Instead, bands of tape cinched his thighs and ankles together.

  “That’s it,” the man in black said with a grave nod. “Have a good look around.”

  The sterile, white room looked to belong in an old clinic. Blue and gray tiles checkered the floor. A faint whiff of disinfectants conjured disconcerting recollections of sharp objects, pain, and fear. He could just make out the lone exit beyond a bank of glaring examination lamps.

  The room’s furniture included a stainless-steel table and a rolling stool. The latter had been perched next to a small bucket. Rafe avoided peering too closely at the table's contents.

  The interrogator said, “Now, I have a question for you. If you answer it with anything other than the truth, the consequences will be unpleasant.” He raised a dark, snaking cable. Then the man stepped to the wall, flipped a switch and the wire’s uninsulated end sparked. Rafe blanched. His breathing quickened as the man crept toward him. “A little demonstration is in order, I’m afraid.”

  Rafe wailed as the wire touched his left abdomen. He writhed, trying to twist away from the fire in his side. After several seconds, the cable broke contact, leaving a burning, throbbing welt. The scent of cauterized flesh sent Rafe’s stomach heaving.