by TS Hottle
"Commander, state the nature of your mission."
"As I said, Commander Rejanus, that's classified."
Rejanus did not speak for a long time.
"Painting us as a target?" asked JT.
"They'd better," said Suicide. "Or Belsham's planetary guard isn't worth a damn."
"Goldeneye," said Rejanus, "whom are you here to extract? The Chief Administrator will not grant permission without that name."
Suicide grumbled. Broadcasting the name would alert Juno to their presence, if Juno had taken Madam Best. She keyed her comms for tight-beam transmission to the Sullivan, texting the name Jayne Best, aka Jayne Chedowski. The comms went silent.
"Keep the projection drive up?" asked JT.
"Plot a wormhole to Hanar." Suicide watched as her connection remained open but silent. "If this goes south, your girlfriend can get us out of this."
"She's not my girlfriend," JT snapped.
Mitsuko snickered.
"Goldeneye," said Rejanus, "Sullivan Actual. The Chief Administrator requests your presence in Samueltown. Follow course to the coordinates we are sending. Do not deviate from that course. Sullivan out."
JT turned to Suicide. "Cheery welcome."
"They have a pirate problem," said Suicide. "That, and smugglers."
"Good to know. I like having career options." He reached up. "Activating grav plates and engaging EM drive."
Walton began growing in the window.
Samueltown lay a hundred and fifty kilometers from the next major city, yet the air reeked of soot. Black haze drifted from the direction of the other city. The air scraped at the back of Suicide's throat as she stepped off the Goldeneye. She could hear Mitsuko behind her, coughing.
"How the hell do you monkeys breathe this stuff?" said Boolay, putting a rag to his face. It had to be bad if the Zaran was filtering the air through a lubricant-soaked cloth.
"Well," said JT after clearing his throat, "I live on another planet, so this isn't usually a problem."
They made their way down from the landing pad onto a plaza designed for a much larger population than Samueltown had for the better part of a century. Instead of shops, cafés, and cart rentals, only vacant storefronts lined the walkway. Some of the plate-glass windows had been shattered or covered with plasboard. Bits of glass crunched under their feet.
This, Suicide reminded herself, was the civilized city on Walton. The rest were either never-ending fires or war zones battled over by gangs. At least Samueltown had power, however sporadic.
Beyond the landing pads, relics of an earlier century, the sun lit empty streets. An occasional person appeared in nearby parks. Suicide could not tell if they lived there or were just there for the morning.
The relative silence unsettled her most about Samueltown. They had just landed at the city's spaceport. In even the most remote spaceports, the sounds of ships powering up, powering down, landing, or launching made a background racket she herself had filtered out. When she stepped off of the Goldeneye, she heard none of that. Nor did she hear the sounds of maintenance workers and bots with their power tools and welding torches. No babbling voices called out arrivals and departures. Samueltown was the hub of civilization on Walton, yet it was also the epitome of the abandoned city. She had to question Belsham's commitment to salvaging its former parent world.
"What's that?" asked Mitsuko.
On the side of a nearby building, someone had crudely sprayed painted six lines, like spokes on a wheel, over the letters "WLF". There were a few tags around it, illegible and not nearly as numerous as in other dying cities Suicide had seen.
"Walton Liberation Front," she said. "They're supposed to be the leading rebel faction on this planet. Really, it's just a name."
"What are those yellow lines?" asked JT.
"They used to adorn the flag of Walton."
They walked a couple of kilometers before coming to a shabby domed building. It looked like the capital domes from parts of old North America before the three big nations reorganized into smaller regions. The gray-coated guards at the entrance to the grounds were the first sign of a functioning government she had seen. They strolled up to the entrance.
Suicide saluted the senior of the two guards, whose sleeve patch marked her as part of the Belsham Planetary Defense. "Lieutenant Commander Cui, Lieutenant Austin, and Lieutenant Commander Yamato on behalf of the provisional government of Amargosa."
The senior guard looked Mitsuko over. "That looks like a Bonapartan uniform." Her eyes went to the rings. "And royalty."
Mitsuko bowed her head slowly. "The King supports Amargosa in its time of need."
Suicide planted herself between the guard and JT and Mitsuko. "We're here to see the Chief Administrator. Regarding a woman named Jayne Best."
The guard pulled her p-com off her shoulder and spoke rapidly into it. A male voice responded. The guard replaced her p-com. "If you'll follow me, please."
Their footsteps reverberated off the interior of the capital building. Suicide had been in several capital buildings over the years. Tian's she saw as a young girl on a school tour. Her father had taken her to the UN. Some she had visited on business. All of them, even Aphrodite's makeshift protectorate headquarters and the still-unfinished building on Amargosa, bustled with people.
This one echoed like a tomb. She wondered if assignment here was Belsham's way of exiling its failed officials. She noticed Mitsuko looked distracted, though she likely had to scan farther and wider for threats. In a busy building like Tian's capital, they would be pressing through a crowd. Her attention would narrow to the immediate vicinity.
The office of the Chief Administrator lay at the far end of the Senate wing behind a door still marked "Vice President of the Republic, Legislative Office" in faded lettering. The door was made of Earth-sourced wood, probably oak. Age had darkened the stain, though it had faded where hands had pressed on it over the years. No one stood guard outside.
Nor did anyone man the outer office. Suicide told herself that it might be a modern office, with AI and bots handling the secretarial duties. She doubted it. Executives still loved having someone out front to be the face of the office. More likely, Walton's government consisted of a skeleton staff.
The guard knocked on another aged oak door, this one looking out of place, as though it had been salvaged from someplace else and hung there as it barely fit the frame. A voice came from within, though Suicide could not make out any words. The guard opened the door.
"Lieutenant Commander Cui," said the guard, "and two of her crew, here to see you about Madam Best."
"Bring them in."
Had Suicide not known that Belsham had become Walton's de facto parent world, she would have sworn the chief administrator was Dakotan. He had the brown skin of an aboriginal North American. His face looked craggy despite evidence of several rejuves. He did not smile when they entered.
The administrator dismissed the guard with a nod. He then proceeded to paste a bad politician's smile into place. "Commander, welcome to Walton, a founding world of the Compact. We have a long and proud history, most of which we've exported to Belsham for safekeeping." The smile faded somewhat but became more genuine. "I'm Chief Administrator Tanam."
Suicide looked around. "Lieutenant Commander Cui Yun." She introduced JT and Mitsuko as her copilot and the commander of the Sapper squad with her, respectively. "It's rather quiet here, sir..."
"Call me Daniel," he said. "In this post, formality's a burden."
"Daniel. And folks call me 'Suicide.'" She waited for the inevitable reaction. "It was my call sign in the Compact Navy. Where's your staff? I would think someone governing a planet, especially a protectorate, would need a lot of support."
"You're looking at it," said Tanam. "Until three months ago, Belsham's policy was to blockade the planet, keep Samueltown mostly empty, and occasionally drop BDF troops into the more unruly places to pacify them."
"BDF?" asked JT.
"Belsham Defense
Forces." Tanam frowned. "The new administration is the first in a long time with a serious plan to revitalize Walton. Unfortunately, the new president was only sworn in three months ago, so they're still working out the details."
"And the BDF?" asked Mitsuko. "I would have expected troops patrolling the streets."
"That was the plan when I was appointed. But this war with the Realm... The Compact elevated half the BDF last month. At half strength, no core world in its right mind would spread what's left so thinly. Not after the blasts on Bromdar."
"About Madam Best," said Suicide. "The Grand Dimaj of the Marilynist Temple sent her here. Why would he do that?"
"Frankly, I'm as confused as you about that," said Tanam. "I received a request from Madam Best herself shortly before the assassination attempt on her husband." He turned and looked out a window that gave a stunning view of the capital building's parking garage and maybe a couple of nano-grown apartment buildings beyond that. "She said if Samueltown were empty, or at least pacified, she could hide here indefinitely. Of course, I have access to everything from the outside world. I told her she should stay on the orbital station." He turned back. "I'm only here in Samueltown today because you sent a message on ahead. I live on the station as well."
She didn't blame him. Walton, over the decades, had erupted into global civil wars with no faction big enough to declare victory. Between the industrial and natural disasters that started the fires and the violent migration of gangs, no one could guarantee Samueltown would be safe. "So, where is she?"
Tanam turned back, his face now craggier with an obvious headache. "In District Nineteen."
"What's District Nineteen?" asked JT.
"A few years ago, this GMO startup came to Belsham with a plan to use Walton as a global lab for its products. It would offer jobs to the locals, which would go a long way toward pacifying the population. Walton began its existence as a corporate world. Even though that company has since dissolved, the idea is still there. This new company would become the chartering authority. Walton would go from a protectorate to a fully functioning colony, perhaps a core world once more in a few decades. So, they carved out a patch of jungle the BDF labeled District Nineteen."
He keyed up a holo display. A transparent globe of Walton appeared over his desk. A red dot marked Samueltown's location. A green patch of land about five hundred kilometers southeast of the city marked District Nineteen.
"Did the shuttle or Madam Best communicate with you at all?" asked Suicide.
"They checked in with the cutters up in orbit. Then they went silent. We tracked them as they came down, but they made no pretense of even coming to Samueltown. They went directly to District Nineteen. Which is not good."
"Why?" asked Mitsuko. "Aside from Madam Best not coming to where she wanted."
Tanam grimaced. "We have recalled one squad of elevated troops for a single mission. Before the month is out, we are going to incinerate every hectare of District Nineteen." He closed his eyes. "JunoCorp's recklessness is threatening what's left of this planet's ecosystem."
Suicide's palm tingled on the way back from Tanam's office. Her hyperdrone had returned. "Amazing. I didn't think she'd have time to respond."
"Who?" said JT.
"O-4 Weiss." Suicide always found Cybercommand's generic ranks jarring. "She's my in with Cybercommand. You know her."
"Is she still with the Challenger?"
"She is." She keyed her wrist chip. "Boolay, I've got a hyperdrone ready to download. Can you have that ready to go by the time we get back?"
"I saw it was keyed to you and accepted," the Zaran responded, his voice sounding tinny coming through Suicide's palm. "Should be queued up and ready to go when you get here."
She wished he hadn't done that without asking her. Jez Salamacis would not be above planting malware in an encrypted message labeled "Cybercommand." They would have to deal with it when they returned to the ship. "Understood."
"You don't sound happy," said Mitsuko.
"I won't be until I see what came back," said Suicide. "But if it's legit, we should have some intel on this place. See what we're up against."
"We're up against generations who grew up in an apocalypse," said JT. "What else is there to know?"
"Juno. Is Juno hiding in this post-apocalypse?"
"Most of the factions are regional," the tall, thin brunette woman in the holocone said. She wore a black uniform with no insignia other than a patch for the CNV Challenger. Suicide had suspicions that the woman's superiors did not care for that fashion choice. Cybercommand had strict rules, ones that often ran afoul of Vice Admiral Burke's penchant for flouting all four services' regulations. At least the message had not been a fake. "Usually, there's two or three per province or metropolitan area. All try to claim the Walton Liberation Front moniker. The only true WLF cell appears to exist in Bennaville, the nearest major city to Samueltown."
"So, basically mob rule and local gangs." JT watched the holo with his arms folded.
"The original civil war had been over food shortages," the woman continued. "The government was too ideologically rigid to make necessary changes. Much of the population left for Belsham or to the core worlds. Those who stayed behind found food to be plentiful, but they had also broken up into tribes and factions."
"Wonder how much trouble Weiss is in for relaying this to us," said Mitsuko.
Suicide shook her head. "Secretary-General's intelligence briefing... Well, the President's now, is the source for much of this information. Most of this is public record, but hard to find." She swept her arm toward the cockpit window. "Walton is not exactly a tourist trap. Even Aphrodite and Goshen get visitors."
"Aphrodite is what they used to call a developing world," said JT, "even if it is a dumpster fire. Goshen is Jefivah with a stable climate and a bat-shit insane culture."
Suicide looked at the plots of where the factions lay. From what she had seen of Samueltown, she imagined the factions were fighting over the remaining campfires while huddling away from the far unlit unknown. How long before they degenerated to hunter-gatherers?
"What's new," said Weiss from the holocone, "is this." She disappeared and a globe of Walton appeared, a green section highlighted. "District Nineteen is largely rural. The people in areas like this tend to be peaceful, maybe paranoid, but not otherwise belligerent. They live off the land and enjoy their solitude. But a new faction has taken over. Factions generally stay out of the rural areas. They all know where their food and fuel come from. Seems this faction, it has no name, has taken over District Nineteen and is in sole possession of its seat."
So much for the far unlit unknown, thought Suicide. Perfect place to hide.
"BDF forces could not recon the area," Weiss continued. "Whoever is holding the area is well-organized and using weaponry that should not be available on Walton. KR-27s, guided artillery, portable rail guns. And there's some bizarre non-native flora."
JT, looking over to Mitsuko, mouthed "Non-native flora" with a confused look on his face. Suicide did not need to see Mitsuko to know she was doing the same.
"I can't say anything officially." She looked outside the holocone as though confirming something with someone out of sight. "But Rear Admiral Austin agrees this is likely Juno, given their expertise in GMOs and their loose adherence to centuries-old standards..."
"More like non-existent." JT looked bitter as he took a sip of coffee. Suicide silenced him with a stern look.
"...we are certain the faction is really some part of Juno."
Lovely, thought Suicide. So, they have their hands on Jayne Best.
"This is also off the record, but whenever the Navy or Cybercommand looks too closely at Juno, someone runs interference. Lately, it's been the President's chief of staff."
"Which means Leitman's hiding something," said JT.
"You knew that when he worked for your mother," Mitsuko added. She pulled her p-com off her shoulder. "Hey, Partlow. Get up here. We got our work cut out for us
."
"That's all we have that we can share," said Weiss. "There are those in Cybercommand who suspect elements of the administration are involved with Juno."
The holocone vanished.
A man in a Sapper's uniform like Mitsuko's, only with enlistee's stripes instead of officer pins, appeared in the hatch. "What's up, El-Tee?"
"They still call you 'Lieutenant?'" said JT.
"Partlow was Edward's right hand during the liberation," said Mitsuko. "I could be an admiral, and he'll call me El-Tee. How are the troops doing, Chief?"
"We doing an extraction?" said Partlow. "They are so down with an extraction." He looked around the cockpit. "And this bird's almost like an OA-22 Falcon. We could do some damage in this thing."
Mitsuko turned to Suicide. "Your call. This is your operation. We're only here because the Bonapartan Court supports Amargosa in its time of need."
Suicide let out her breath. "We'll need to recon. And not in this ship. I don't want Juno seeing this ship until go time."
"Locals charter ships," said Partlow. "It's Samueltown, so Compact scrip works."
"Long as it's not a BDF craft. Last thing I need is some faction with rail guns shooting us down. Can you scout out a craft to charter?"
"Sure."
"Boolay can pilot the Goldeneye," said JT. "I can fly us out."
"I'll get volunteers," said Partlow.
Mitsuko stood. "You can stay put. I'll go. If this goes south, it needs to fall on my head."
"Royal prerogative?"
"Rank. But my uncle and fiancée can better shield us from the fallout if I'm in the middle of it. The rest of you could find your careers cut short prematurely."
"I hope you know what you're doing," said Suicide. "Salamacis could show up any second in the Khirovsky and make the protectorate dance to their tune."
Suicide had to hand it to JT. Normally, he was quite vocal whenever they ended up with subpar craft, usually for atmospheric flight. He sat stone-faced in the pilot's seat, saying nothing. What could he say? They were on Walton, where the only outpost of civilization was a nearly abandoned city. Charter aircraft, by definition, came at a premium.