Hr’ent nodded, but there was something bothering him. He couldn’t put his finger on it, because there were so many pieces on the board. The bottom line was, the GenSha had taken Peacemaker hostages and might have already murdered one of them. There was only one response for that.
“What kind of resistance can I expect?” he asked, fully prepared to execute the entire GenSha leadership if it came down to it, despite the doctored video.
“Guild intelligence reports the GenSha terrorists in the area are lightly armed and number around 1,000. ISMC has—or had—about 400 troopers, but those have been reinforced by a Veetanho mercenary company, though we have no confirmation about which company is on the ground.”
Graa’vaa frowned and looked down and away from the briefing.
“I wonder what that’s about,” she mumbled.
Hak tapped his earpiece. “Understood, Lieutenant. I’m on my way.”
“Something up?” Hr’ent asked.
“It’s nothing,” Hak replied. He met Hr’ent’s eyes and chuckled. “They’re having trouble loading the encrypted sequence I gave them for the transponder. It’s nothing unexpected for cutting-edge elSha tech. I have to attend to this. I’ll see you before you drop.”
The Sidar released his feet from the restraints and pushed off gently to glide toward the hatch. As he floated from the room, Hr’ent pretended to study the digital terrain display, even zooming it down closer to show the intended drop zone for his equipment pallet.
He hunched forward and whispered in Graa’vaa’ s ear.
“What is wrong with you?”
She sighed. “This whole mission. Nothing makes sense.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve been digging a little. Hyperspace is boring.” Graa’vaa smiled. “And I don’t work out as much as you.”
“Point taken.” Hr’ent grinned. “What did you find?”
“I went back through the mission data files the guild provided before we departed. That intelligence briefing was part of it. Anyway, when a Peacemaker is requested by any party, that simple transmission traditionally opens an incident report. Inside that report, the initial request is the first thing present.”
“I assumed the GenSha made the request. There would be no reason for ISMC to bring us into it. They rarely benefit from Peacemaker intervention, because they’re usually the ones breaking the rules.”
“I made the same assessment.” Graa’vaa looked up at him. “This incident report, however, is missing the initial request. There’s no official record of who requested Peacemakers.”
“That doesn’t happen, I take it.” Hr’ent’s suspicions were growing by the nanosecond.
“I’ve never seen it, no.” Graa’vaa shook her head. “What’s worse is that ISMC’s track record is the complete opposite of the way the guild is portraying them in this incident. That intel report? What we just gave you? That was guild intelligence directed, Hr’ent. It’s one thing to be a number of days old, but to clearly define the situation? In absolutes? That’s not something the guild does.”
Hr’ent frowned. “They’re using data to solidify their findings, though, right?”
“Data can be manipulated, Hr’ent. I can give you any result you want given enough time and motivation.” Graa’vaa pointed at the Tri-V as a new file opened. “The GenSha on Godannii 2 have filed six injunctions against ISMC. They’ve performed a labor stoppage twice. As a result, ISMC sent their board of directors to directly deal with this situation. But they also armed their security forces and brought in a complement of new workers from another colony world. They had no intention of negotiating anything. They’ve done this before. I can call up a half-dozen times where colonies have ‘disappeared’ because ISMC came in and closed down their facilities or fired the populace, stranding them on the world.”
“What are you saying, Graa’vaa?” Hr’ent waved a paw at her. “Forget that. What aren’t you saying?”
“I think we’re being told to look in the wrong den, Hr’ent.” She sighed. “I don’t think the GenSha are to blame, and I think you’re in over your ears.”
“But they’re acting like terrorists.” Hr’ent squinted at the screen. “They’ve caused millions in damage, killed ISMC troopers, and what’s more, they’ve sunk low enough to take Peacemakers hostage. It’s as if they’ve gone out of their way to make the situation worse.”
“That’s what I don’t get. Everything about this situation says, from a common-sense perspective, that the initial request had to have come from the GenSha, not ISMC. ISMC has too much on the line to risk being told to cease and desist by our guild. The moment they upped their security forces and turned away serious deliberations, they put themselves in the wrong column, in my opinion.”
Hr’ent cupped the bottom of his snout with a paw and snorted as he took in the data. Stomach turning and twisting, half from anticipation and half from uncertainty, the picture cleared enough for him to settle on a course of action.
“I have to prove the GenSha aren’t to blame, that they aren’t terrorists, but simple citizens trying to assert their basic rights as a species against a corporation with a track record of running settlements into the ground for the sake of profit.” Hr’ent sighed in realization. “The video…” Hr’ent said, putting pieces together.
“What about it?” she asked.
“As much of an arrogant prick as Rsach is, I have to believe he wouldn’t have deviated from protocol without a direct order. That means the Peacemaker team was directed to the ISMC compound.”
“You think so?” Graa’vaa’s brow shot upward.
“It’s the only explanation. Without an initial request in the file, it stands to reason an order to go to ISMC would have come from the same entity that directed a team of four young Peacemakers fresh from the Academy into this shitstorm.” Hr’ent growled. “The team always goes to the party who requested them, and without a request goes where they’re ordered by the Guild—that’s SOP. Rsach is new enough that he wouldn’t check that video as thoroughly as you and I did. He probably didn’t have the time or resources.” Hr’ent shook his head. “He was hours from landing and received this self-deleting file with a horrific video attached. And he jumped at it.”
“But why would someone hide the ISMC request in the mission file?” Graa’vaa asked, then nodded her head. “Gods. You’re right! They were sent to the wrong side, and the GenSha did what any species would do with their backs against the trees. They decided to fight back.”
“Rsach and the others are caught in the middle, and we don’t really know why. This whole situation stinks, Graa’vaa.” Hr’ent leaned close enough to her to catch her scent and fought to maintain focus. “What if the guild is compromised?”
Her eyes widened, and she nodded her head. “I have to see what I can find out. The transmission would have originated here, so I need to get into the gate files and check the message traffic. I’ll have to dig deep, though. That’s going to require time.”
Hr’ent nodded. “I think we have time, at least to gather intelligence. I’m not so sure about our friends on the ground.” He locked eyes with her. “I am sure of one thing, though.”
“And that is?”
“I’m not in over my ears, Graa’vaa.”
The intelligence specialist frowned at him and turned back to the screen. She tapped on the console and pulled up the last message they’d received from before transitioning. The crowd of GenSha rioting at the mine fence was chanting many things, but there was one old GenSha in the middle of the formation saying something different.
Graa’vaa isolated his face and then initiated a scan of his mouth—essentially reading his lips.
“What’s he saying?”
“They won’t stand with you, Breka.” Graa’vaa looked up at him. “He just keeps repeating it. And he’s even looking up at the camera.”
Hr’ent took a deep breath and exhaled slowly through his nose. “Oh, shit.”
“
That’s putting it lightly,” Graa’vaa replied. “What do you think it means?”
“I don’t know, but it’s way over both our ears.” Hr’ent shook his head. There had to be a greater meaning. “We have to find out who the initial request came from. That’s the first priority. I’d bet my pelt it wasn’t ISMC and that this GenSha knows something we don’t. Do we know who it is?”
“That’s my second priority. Once we enter orbit, I’ll connect to the GalNet and the planet’s Aethernet and find out. I’ll relay the information to you as soon as I can.” She paused. “If the GenSha sent the initial request, though, why would they hold the Peacemakers hostage and threaten to kill them?”
“They’ve taken the Peacemakers in an attempt to call attention to something much larger than this, so the guild will intervene on their behalf,” Hr’ent said. “Except, they’ve only sent me. I mean, us.”
Graa’vaa’s voice was low, almost a whisper. “I think you’re correct. Our own guild is suspect, Hr’ent. The only hope we have is that our team turns their backs on ISMC and negotiates with the GenSha while in captivity. That’s not going to happen, because Rsach and the others are going to be furious about being taken hostage. They won’t talk. We’ve been trained not to negotiate with terrorists. When they won’t talk, the GenSha will go as far as necessary to provoke a response. They really will execute them, Hr’ent.”
“I won’t let either of those things happen.” Hr’ent straightened and stared at the frozen image of the GenSha on the screen. “And there’s not a being on that planet who can stop me.”
* * * * *
Chapter Twenty-One
In Orbit around Godannii 2
Peacemaker Blue Flight
Eight thousand kilometers above the surface, the Besquith Thrustcore burned its main engines for 214 seconds to establish itself in orbit. Far below, the day/night terminator raced from east to west toward the northern continent and Moppicut City. No sooner had the Core completed the orbital insertion burn, than a dropship detached from its center line and rotated toward the planet, firing its engines with a flare of ionized gas.
“Separation,” Emonk said with a grin on her face. She turned to look at Hr’ent and laughed. “You look pale, Big Guy. This is only an eight-G burn.”
Hr’ent tried to turn his head, but his vision swam from the acceleration. His body didn’t seem to be having much difficulty, but his equilibrium felt like it was being short-circuited. Behind his oxygen mask, he gulped air and tried to relax against the whirling sensation in his brain and stomach. “Ugh,” was all he could manage.
“Hey, you don’t want to throw up in that thing. It’s called pre-breathing, not pre-vomiting.” Emonk chuckled and returned her gaze to the instrument panel. “Besides, we won’t hit nine Gs for a few more minutes. Fifteen minutes from now, when we hit MECO, you’ll be wishing you could do it again.”
Not likely.
“What’s MECO?” he managed to grunt.
“Main engine cut off.” Emonk smiled.
Pilots.
Hr’ent mashed his eyes closed and focused on breathing in against the feeling of a half-dozen Oogar sitting on his chest and his brain flying apart. As he did, one of the rhythmic breathing exercises came back to him. The first two days at the Academy were spent studying holistic approaches to stress and fatigue. He and the other candidates in his class derided the breathing exercises and simple body movements for about 10 minutes until their instructors had successfully put the entire class to sleep in the middle of the day. From that moment forward, he’d trusted the exercises to do what they advertised, even if he fell short of performing them as often as he should. The rhythm of inhale and exhale calmed him and seemed to lessen the pressure on his chest. While he didn’t trust himself to open his eyes and turn his head against the acceleration, after four minutes of breathing, he found the flight much more bearable. He felt centered and more stable.
“How are we doing?” he grunted.
“Scopes are clear. Looks like the GenSha and ISMC have nulled out each other’s orbital assets. Means a quiet approach for us,” Emonk replied. “I’ve got the Blue Flight requesting comms link. I wanted to make sure you weren’t going to pass out before I opened it up.”
“Does that happen a lot? Passing out?”
Emonk grinned. “Let’s just say that when I mentioned a nine-G descent, Hak-Chet decided he didn’t want to ride along.”
The thought of the Deputy Selector passed out in a G-force induced loss of consciousness made Hr’ent grin. “I would have loved to see that.”
“Rumor has it there’s a video.”
Hr’ent laughed out loud. “When I get back, you need to show it to me, Lieutenant.”
“What makes you think I have it?” She laughed. He glanced at her out of the corner of his right eye and knew she was teasing. His laughter joined hers as they transitioned into the nine-G portion of the descent. He felt relaxed and ready. For the first time since he’d returned from his commissioning mission, there was real action. No training. No execution.
Action…and making a difference.
“Let’s go over the drop again,” he said with much less effort than he’d thought he’d need. “Blue Flight can wait a few more minutes.”
“Agreed,” Emonk replied. “The last atmospheric update we have gave us solid intel for the drop type. We’re going with a high-altitude, high-open approach. You’re set with an ultra-high glide ratio chute that should give a guy of your mass a good 80 kilometers of glide. This keeps us well outside Moppicut City on the descent. I don’t know if their mercs have any flyers, but if I drop you at about 18,000 meters it won’t matter too much.”
Hr’ent shook his head. “HAHO? I thought a low opening would be best.”
“If I drop you HALO, I’d have to be much closer to the city. This drop is all about stealth, Hr’ent. I have to drop you high up.”
“That’s why I’m pre-breathing.”
“Exactly. Hypoxia and decompression sickness are your enemies. Given your enhancements, we don’t know precisely how they’ll affect you, but we’re not taking any chances. The oxygen mask and the bottle you’ll transition to will get you down below 4,000 meters, and that’s what matters. I’m going to drop you first, then fire the engines to burn for orbit. About two minutes after ignition, during my gentle, commercial-like abort and orbital burn, I’ll drop your equipment pallet on the same general path but with a faster descent. You should be able to land near it and get to Moppicut City without wasting too much time. My goal is to drop it in the DZ you identified as the primary. You can glide to it, collect your gear, and be on your way before anyone suspects there is something there.”
“That means a longer trek across the ground.” Hr’ent frowned under his mask.
“That’s where those enhancements should come in handy, Big Guy.” Emonk smiled. “We’re 15 minutes from MECO. We’ll be in controlled descent for another five through atmospheric interface. We’re going to do that as slowly as possible. As soon as we’re through the fire, so to speak, you’re out the door.”
Hr’ent nodded. Twenty minutes to go.
“How long until the G-forces let off so I can check the gear?”
“About six minutes,” Emonk said. “I’m going to engage the Blue Flight comms. They’re chattering in my ear like a bunch of Goka in a sugar factory.”
Hr’ent snorted. “Haven’t heard that one before.”
“I’m here all week,” Emonk replied. “Blue Flight, Drop Alpha. Comms engaged. We’re still under G so give my passenger a break, will you?”
“We have a clear picture of his vitals. Everything looks good,” Hak replied over the comms. “How are you feeling with that kind of load, Hr’ent?”
“Haven’t passed out yet,” he said and risked a tilt of his head so he could wink at Emonk.
“Well, that’s good,” the Sidar replied. His usual tone was a little softer than normal, and Hr’ent knew he’d hit his mark. “We’ll be w
alking you through the pre-jump checklists from here.”
“I have about five minutes until I can check the gear one more time.”
“Which we can fill with intelligence, jump updates, and anything else we need to ensure you’re as informed as possible.” Hak hadn’t sounded that chipper in all the time Hr’ent had known the Sidar. Something was up.
Great. Everybody wants to talk to me, and all I want to do is get out the fucking door.
“Hey? Big Guy?”
He glanced at Emonk. “Yeah?”
“They are as nervous as you are about this. Let them talk, but don’t let them into your head. Get me?”
“Yes, Lieutenant.”
“You can cut that Izlian shit out, too. We’re teammates, Hr’ent.”
He took her advice and let them talk. There were no substantial updates to the plan and no more intelligence updates from the surface. When the G-forces slacked off, he moved from the dropship’s cockpit to the cargo bay and checked the equipment pallet—tactical, small—one more time. Loaded with a portable satlink, ammunition, weapons, rations, and trauma supplies, the pallet would certainly come in handy on the ground. Given the nature of the jump, and the violent, high-altitude deployment of his glide chute, the only weapon he’d be carrying would be his PK-40, strapped and maybe taped to his right leg.
“Final gear checks, Hr’ent.” Hak’s voice crackled in his earpiece.
“The pallet is secure.”
“What about the weapons?”
Hr’ent growled. “I am not unpacking the pallet, Hak. They were fine when we transitioned. They were fine when they were packed on the pallet. They were fine when I strapped the pallet to the drop assembly. They’re fine.”
“As long as you’re fine with it.”
Gods. He’s like my mother.
“I am more than fine with it, Hak. The pallet is ready to go. I’m going off headset for two minutes to suit up.”
“You should wait for Emonk to inspect you.”
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