Hard Strike

by Eric Thomson

  “We were about to enjoy a cup, Chief.”

  “Good. Let’s see if what’s left in the break room is safe for human consumption. Then Hera can tell me why she landed on my doorstep. I assume your arrival isn’t a coincidence?”

  “Unfortunately, no.”

  “I was afraid of that, considering what we discussed before parting company on Aquilonia.”

  They entered the small lounge and Galdi made a beeline for an elaborate coffee maker whose various buttons glowed a soothing blue.

  “Zack and I aren’t here to pull the Constabulary into a Fleet intelligence operation, Caelin. On the contrary. We’re here to help you and the Cimmerian Gendarmerie track down the animals who committed mass murder at Silfax. It just so happens that if we’d made it to Cimmeria a week or two earlier, we might have been able to prevent the attack altogether.”

  Morrow’s pale right eyebrow crept up to her hairline.

  “This, I want to hear in full detail. Grab a cup and follow me to my office. You should come too, Arno. I think Hera and Zack want more than just a shoulder to cry on because of their lousy sense of timing.”

  Once ensconced in Morrow’s office, a sparsely decorated space overlooking the fjord, Decker took a sip of his coffee and grimaced.

  “Your fancy machine needs a good reaming out if you ask me. Or termination with extreme prejudice.”

  “See, Chief,” Galdi said with an air of satisfaction. “I’m not the only one complaining.”

  As if by common accord, both women turned quelling glares on their wingmen.

  “Let’s focus on more important matters, Zack,” Talyn said. “Such as why we’re in Caelin’s office criticizing the Firing Squad’s coffee.”

  Decker made a sweeping gesture with his left arm.

  “Sorry. Please go ahead, my dear Commander.”

  “For almost a year, since before the Scandia affair, Naval Intelligence has been tracking an increase in radical darknet chatter and direct political action across the Rim. Usually, the individuals involved are little more than live-action role players content with loud protests and the occasional vandalism to make themselves feel better about their sad existences. At worst, they might give police services and militias a bit of anti-riot practice. But for it to happen in several different systems simultaneously caught our analysts’ attention. The Mission Colony Freedom Collective, long a player on that star system’s political scene, came into sharp focus as one of those about to reach critical mass and act on their political aims. HQ sent us to investigate, and if need be, prune the Collective back so it no longer presented a looming threat.”

  “I recently came across a threat assessment discussing that bunch. Led by a Gustav Kerlin and his partner Eva Cortez, right?” Arno Galdi asked.

  “As of six days ago, the Freedom Collective was restructuring under new management,” Decker replied. “Incidentally, you have a problem on Mission named Kristy Bujold.”

  Morrow’s face hardened.

  “So I understand. I’ve not told anyone in the detachment yet, but the 24th Constabulary Regiment’s deputy commanding officer sent a confidential report to DCC Maras informing her he’d forced Assistant Commissioner Bujold to take a leave of absence. She was present at the time Gustav Kerlin and Eva Cortez were murdered. She also admitted to a personal relationship with both, contrary to regulations forbidding Constabulary members from befriending political figures without making a declaration to my office. Maras wants Bujold to resign quietly rather than make it a PCB case. But if she doesn’t...”

  Galdi grimaced. “Now there’s a turn of events.”

  “I assume you had something to do with those deaths?” Morrow turned a stony gaze on Talyn.

  “You’re free to make any assumption you like, Caelin, but neither Zack nor I can comment. However, politics on Mission will shift back to where they should be now that the Freedom Collective lost its driving forces.”

  When Morrow didn’t answer, Talyn said, “We’re not bound by police rules when it comes to neutralizing violent threats. And before you mourn Kerlin or Cortez, keep in mind they were the same sort of sociopaths who murdered the folks in the Silfax Mining Complex. Evil, soulless individuals with plenty of blood on their hands already, but untouchable because others of their ilk hold positions of power on Mission. Such as Assistant Commissioner Bujold.”

  “Understood.” Morrow’s tone and the icy shimmer in her eyes made it clear she wasn’t particularly comfortable with Talyn’s revelations. “Please go on.”

  “One tidbit we discovered along the way was the existence of a previously unknown organization calling itself the Democratic Stars Alliance, apparently headquartered in this system. This DSA is attempting to unite radical groups throughout the sector under a common umbrella, to coordinate their activities.”

  A grim smile briefly twisted Morrow’s lips.

  “So we understand. As far as the Gendarmerie and our own Criminal Intelligence Division can tell, the DSA appeared out of nowhere about six months ago. It seems to have absorbed all of the radical collectives, fronts, and whatever other nonsense they call themselves on Cimmeria. Now you’re telling me they’re also recruiting groups in other star systems?”

  “It gets worse. The DSA is handing out recruitment bonuses, a substance called MHX-19, also known as Mayhem. According to Zack, who’s an expert in these things it’s the most powerful non-nuclear explosive ever invented. I saw what a single kilo did on Mission.”

  Talyn went on to describe the destruction of Blanca’s Folly.

  “Zack tells me knowledge about Mayhem’s existence is highly classified, and its use is subject to the most rigorous controls. In theory, not a single gram should leave Fleet ammunition depots without a flag officer’s signature. Yet the DSA apparently has access to a large stockpile, since they can dole it out in kilo bricks as a way of enticing loudmouth radicals into acting on their fantasies.”

  “Large is right,” Decker added. “If an MHX bomb destroyed the Silfax Complex, I’d say it weighed at least a hundred kilos, judging by what I saw on the newscasts. Video of the actual detonation would help me confirm whether Mayhem was responsible. It has a characteristic visual signature like no other.”

  “Why do I think both DCC Maras and the Director General of the Cimmerian Gendarmerie should listen to this?”

  “Because you’re looking at it as a cop would, but this isn’t police business. Not if it involves disparate groups spread across the sector who suddenly go from the odd violent protest to a concerted campaign aimed at spreading political terror. If you’ll recall, the Wyvern Accords creating the Constabulary specifically left anti-terrorism in the Fleet’s hands. Has anyone claimed responsibility for Silfax?”

  “No. The Cimmerian authorities haven’t even ruled out an accident yet.”

  “Methinks they’re whistling past the graveyard,” Decker said. “Show me a video clip from whichever satellite was overhead when it happened, and I’ll disabuse them of any remaining illusions. We need to find the DSA’s MHX stash before they strike again, and in the interests of time, it means we need local help. You, the Gendarmerie, the National Guard, anyone with information.”

  “Zack’s right. He and I usually work alone though sometimes we will call on the help of a few friends. But we can’t afford to rely on our usual methods and discretion this time. I’m officially asking for your assistance, Caelin.”

  Morrow’s eyes narrowed as she chewed on the inside of her lip. After a moment, she said, “So far, the locals shared no details with us, but I’ll ask my contact in the Gendarmerie’s Criminal Intelligence Bureau. You realize our colleagues in blue won’t be thrilled at the Fleet sticking its nose in.”

  “Perhaps not, but if Silfax was the DSA’s handiwork using MHX-19, the Cimmerians can expect more of the same until their government falls and the radicals seize control.”

  “A rag-tag bunch of starry-eyed sociopaths?” Galdi sounded skeptical. “Hard to believe.”

&nbs
p; “We think they’re backed by the Coalition and stiffened by Sécurité Spéciale operatives in their ranks,” Decker replied. “They’ll already have allies inside the bureaucracy and the security services. That’s how they operated on Scandia. I can’t see Cimmeria being immune to the swamp creature infestation we’ve seen elsewhere.”

  “Fair enough.” Galdi inclined his head. “The Chief told me everything about this Coalition back on Aquilonia. Therefore I bow to your greater experience with humanity’s dark underbelly.”

  “There’s one more item, which may or may not be related,” Talyn said.

  — Twenty-Four —

  Decker and Talyn sketched out the incident aboard Thebes. When they fell silent, Morrow stroked a screen embedded in her desk, and a display to her left lit up with a woman’s face.

  “This is Magda Annear, wife of Pavel Yagudin, and daughter of Senator Nerys Annear and the late Ryker Lubben.”

  “That’s the one,” Decker said.

  “Interesting.”

  Morrow tapped an extended index finger on her lower lip as she studied the image.

  “Isn’t it? Considering her mother is one of the Outworld senators fighting to protect the rights of sovereign star systems against those who support the Coalition’s goals. Not to mention her estranged billionaire husband though he has shown no political leanings Naval Intelligence could discover. I’d love to find out where she was coming from, why she’s here, and why an abduction attempt by the organized crime group most often linked to our Sécurité Spéciale folks.”

  “I can’t answer any of that, but Arno has a friend in the Gendarmerie who may be able to tell us where or with whom Magda Annear is staying. It might provide at least some indication. Arno?”

  “Consider it done, Chief.”

  “If that was it, perhaps you can tell me what Naval Intelligence wants from the Constabulary?” Morrow asked.

  “In the immediate, a secure link to the system’s Fleet subspace relay, so we can check for messages from home and report on new developments.”

  “Why not go through Sixth Fleet? Admiral Kingsley’s HQ is right next to the Howard’s Landing spaceport.”

  “Rim Sector planetary governments aren’t the only entities with their fair share of swamp creatures, Caelin. Right now, the only people on Cimmeria I can trust implicitly are you and Inspector Galdi.”

  “You mean this Coalition of yours might have people inside the Sixth Fleet command staff?”

  “Almost certainly, considering what we found during the Armed Services HQ purge on Caledonia.”

  Morrow winced.

  “I’d hate to think how many infiltrated the Constabulary.”

  “Consider it job security if ever your Chief Constable imitates the Grand Admiral and roots out evil wherever it lurks,” Decker said, grinning.

  “I prefer rooting out venality rather than treason. When we’re done here, Arno will take you to the communications center and arrange a secure link under PCB auspices. That way no one will dare ask questions. What else?”

  “Everything the Gendarmerie knows about the Silfax attack and the DSA as well as its predecessor groups.”

  “Is that it?” Morrow gave the agents a droll grimace. “I’ll get you what the Constabulary knows right away. However, our Gendarmerie friends will be another matter. They’re usually reasonable in cooperating with us feds, but like every planetary police force across the Commonwealth, they fear we’ll take over without so much as a by your leave. And I’ll have to go through our HQ liaison rather than directly. As head of the sector Firing Squad, I have no standing in major incidents or criminal intelligence involving radical groups. The generous freedom of action I enjoy applies strictly to investigating internal affairs.”

  “HQ Liaison will want to know why we’re interested,” Galdi said. “I doubt the Commander and Major Decker will be comfortable with us revealing even the tiniest detail of Naval Intelligence’s involvement, let alone how they came to be on Cimmeria at this moment.”

  “You’re correct, Inspector.” Talyn studied Morrow for a few moments, then asked, “Caelin, is DCC Maras perchance contemplating the creation of an ad hoc anti-terrorism team to help the Gendarmerie in tracking down those responsible for the Silfax atrocity?”

  “She hasn’t mentioned anything so far.”

  “You might put a word in her ear about the notion. How much do you trust Maras?”

  “In what sense?” Morrow seemed puzzled by Talyn’s question.

  “That she’s not harboring other loyalties?”

  “Like this Coalition?” Morrow shrugged. “She’s the only one outside of my team in the entire Rim Sector to whom I’ll confide every detail of our investigations. So far, she’s used nothing I told her in confidence, let alone shared it. Why do you ask?”

  “Perhaps you could suggest DCC Maras forms a task force to work with the Gendarmerie and propose yourself to lead it. Justify the request by telling her in confidence that Fleet anti-terrorism officers of your acquaintance are already here and approached you directly under the circumstances because of the PCB’s reputation for complete and utter incorruptibility. Maras should understand why if she’s risen to deputy chief constable.”

  A rumble rose from Galdi’s barrel chest. It took Decker a moment to identify it as laughter.

  “I do believe the commander’s proposition is entirely practical, Chief. And since you, I, and Sergeant Bonta have nothing on our plates at the moment while everyone else in this building is busier than the devil on a Saturday night, Maras should jump at the offer.”

  “That’ll put you in a position to ask for whatever intelligence the Gendarmerie develops and thereby help Zack and me find the DSA’s MHX stockpile before they kill more innocents.”

  “Why stop at being your funnel for information,” Morrow replied in an acerbic tone. “Why not ask me to fly top cover over what will certainly be one of the more egregious examples of a black op carried out by Naval Intelligence?”

  “If you’re offering...” Talyn smirked.

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “Of course. But I’ll remind you of our discussion on Aquilonia. What’s happening here and elsewhere in this sector is part of the darkness threatening to smother the hard-won civil peace between sovereign star systems. People prepared to kill millions and deprive billions of their freedom in order to found an empire can’t be stopped through conventional policing. We’re standing at the edge of the abyss and what’s staring back needs to die.”

  A heartfelt sigh escaped Morrow’s lips.

  “I hear you. I don’t like it, but since you opened my eyes on Aquilonia, I’ve noticed things that make me despair about the Commonwealth’s future. So has Arno.”

  “Sadly,” the inspector said. “I recommend we go with Commander Talyn’s plan, Chief. Before the terrorists let off a big one in downtown Howard’s Landing. This sort of thing is beyond the Gendarmerie’s experience. And beyond ours.”

  Morrow’s eyes went from Galdi to Talyn and back.

  “On one condition, Hera.”

  “Name it,” Talyn replied.

  “You and Zack come with me to see DCC Maras. No need to tell the whole story, but meeting Fleet anti-terrorism officers will help convince her. If you require top cover at some point, you’ll inevitably end up needing more than I can give, and next to Admiral Kingsley, Maras wields the most federal power in the entire sector.”

  “Agreed. How soon can this blessed event occur? Time is not our friend.”

  “Wait.” Morrow stroked the screen with her fingertips again. “There. I asked her adjutant for an immediate opening to discuss matters surrounding the Silfax incident privately. The DCC usually sees me right away when I bring news about a professional compliance investigation, especially if it concerns a senior member of her command. I think she’ll extend that courtesy if it concerns the current crisis.”

  A soft chime sounded seconds later. Morrow glanced down then climbed to her feet.


  “We’re expected in the reception room. In the meantime, why don’t you set things up for that secure link to the subspace node, Arno.”

  “Will do, Chief.”

  “Reception room?” Decker asked.

  “That’s what we call the DCC’s office. Back when this was the Cimmeria Colony’s government house, it served as the governor’s reception room. You’ll enjoy your daily dose of exercise walking up to her desk.”

  **

  A harassed-looking man with the two silver, diamond-shaped stars of an inspector on his collar glanced up from a cluttered desk as they entered the antechamber to Maras’ office. His gaze briefly rested on Talyn and Decker before turning to Morrow.

  “Just so you understand the situation, Chief Superintendent, the DCC kicked Assistant Chief Constables Haarez and Yin out to make time for you. They’re both understandably a bit miffed. May I ask who your guests are?”

  “Liaison officers from the Fleet’s Special Operations Command anti-terrorist unit.”

  The adjutant’s lit up with understanding.

  “Oh.”

  Morrow gave him a cold smile.

  “Oh, indeed. I’m sure your esteemed Rim Sector Heads of Operation and Administration will forgive this all too necessary intrusion.”

  “You can enter, sir.”

  The door behind him silently slid aside.

  “Thank you, Inspector.”

  Morrow led them into a room big enough to serve as a hangar for a full gunship squadron. A carved wooden desk larger than most starship cabins, backed by a dense stand of flags dominated the space. In keeping with the Constabulary’s paramilitary status and its origins as the former Armed Services security branch, the imagery, decorations, and awards adorning the paneled walls closely resembled those one might find in any admiral’s office.

  The officer sitting behind that large desk, a stern-faced, dark-haired woman in her sixties wearing the three five-pointed stars of a deputy chief constable watched them approach with curious eyes. As if by common accord, Talyn, Decker, and Morrow came to a precise military halt in front of Maras, even though none of them wore a uniform.