by J. N. Chaney
Sophie looked away and picked at her fingernails. “I just meant that they’re smart. They don’t know anything, so interrogation won’t be a big deal,” she said quickly.
“But neither of them asked if it was true? There’s no way they would believe that of you,” I pressed. “I’m sorry, but you can’t convince me that the Singhs are encouraging their daughter to roam the system a wanted fugitive.”
Z interjected, announcing our third Slip Gap Point was coming up. Sophie looked relieved at the change of topic, so I let the matter drop.
The swirling walls of the slip tunnel began to distort and separate a few minutes later when we opened the rift. The Dreadnight passed through smoothly without so much as a shudder, which was nice. I’d been on more than a few Sarkonian retrofits that bucked and jumped going through an S.G. Point that had made me grateful for the safety harnesses.
We were out of it in a few short moments, sailing into the deep black of open space and headed in the direction of our next tunnel. It would be a few hours before we reached it, so I decided to do something productive with the time.
Whatever was going on with Sophie could wait until she felt like telling me.
“Okay Z, what do ya got for us?” I asked, rubbing my hands together as I moved to the interface. It was flat and similar to a table, allowing users to treat it like a giant data pad or projector to the holo display
Sophie joined me, but I could tell she was distracted by the way she fidgeted.
The table blinked to life and a number of file directories appeared on the screen. Nothing jumped out at me, so I asked, “What am I looking at?”
“First, the data on your last mission, as you requested, Sergeant,” announced the computer. “This version is more complete.”
Even as Z spoke, holo documents went up in the air before us. The holographic workspace was more efficient than working from the pads because we could see several files at once. A few wrist flicks and finger swipes were all it took to navigate them.
For now, the dossier from our last mission was sprawled across the display. The first notable difference from our previous briefing was the size of the file. Navari had only provided a fraction of the information she’d had.
“Wow, it would have been nice to know half of this beforehand,” said Sophie, and I could tell she was annoyed by the sarcastic tone in her voice.
“No shit,” I grunted. “Schematics of the house, population data, schedules. The commander and Dolph played this one close to the vest.”
“What, you think Dolph knew about all this?” she asked, gesturing at the display with knitted brows.
I shrugged. “Why not? The government wouldn’t risk sending a member of the Void into a planet like Sobek with spotty info.”
“No, just us,” she complained.
“Are you really that surprised?” I asked. Sarkon didn’t exactly win empire of the year awards. There was a reason they had to conscript citizens into the service. The Sarkonian Empire had a reputation for putting its people last and political aspirations first.
“Not at all,” said Sophie. “But wouldn’t it make more sense to give it to us too? If not for our safety, then for the sake of the mission? Holding back only increased our chance of failure. Which is just what happened,” she pointed out.
I shrugged again. “Another question for the pile we’ve already got,” I said. “Nothing we can do about it now anyway. Z, focus on mission objectives, please."
The view changed instantly, and I studied the data with hard eyes.
“Objective: Retrieve data drive containing sensitive information crucial to the advancement of the Sarkonian Empire,” Sophie read aloud.
I frowned at the words. They didn’t sound much different from the hundreds of ops we’d run in the past. Even the device itself looked like any number of data drives I’d seen before.
“Whatever they had on it must have been pretty significant to warrant that kind of security from the Union,” I remarked, gesturing a hand at the display in frustration.
“And for the Empire to bring in someone like Dolph,” added Sophie.
The data looked broken and stilted, and I read it a few more times before I realized why it bothered me.
“Something’s missing,” I said suddenly.
“Yeah, we already established that,” Sophie replied dryly.
“No, not that,” I said, waving the statement away.
I focused on recalling every aspect of the operation on Sobek. My heart tightened at the image of the little boy covered in blood, then Navari ordering me to shoot him. My refusal, the ensuing fight. Something she’d said nagged at me.
“Navari said ‘my orders say not to leave witnesses’ or something like that,” I remembered, nodding at the display. “I didn’t see that anywhere in the dossier.”
Sophie went quiet as she reread the data like I had.
“You were inside,” I said. “Did you see if there was any sign of a struggle?”
She shook her head. “No, the parents were in bed. I initially thought they were still asleep.” She tapped her index finger on her chin thoughtfully. “Do you think the commander went rogue?”
“Nah. Navari might have been a hothead, but she was devoted to the Empire. It looks like a political assassination,” I theorized.
“I didn’t see it in there. No mention of wetwork either,” Sophie commented. “Z9, can you confirm?”
“This version does not reference any such order,” answered the AI.
“Z,” I said slowly, drawing out her name. “That’s the second time you’ve said this version. Is there another version besides the two we’ve seen?”
“Yes. Commander-Navari had quite a large data cache,” she answered.
“Then why the hell aren’t we looking at that?” I asked, barely controlling my tone.
“My apologies, Sergeant. Commander-Navari encrypted the files and I am unable to access them,” Z replied.
“How did she open them?” I asked, still irritated that the computer hadn’t brought this to our attention sooner.
“With codes that change every ninety seconds. She possessed a physical encryption token. Without that, I’m afraid it will be impossible to open,” Z replied.
I rooted in my pocket until I found a small data drive.
“Does it look like this?” I asked with a grin.
“Where did you get that?” exclaimed Sophie, her eyes going wide.
“Took it from Navari when I swiped her badge,” I explained, then plugged it onto the interface.
“That is the correct key,” Z confirmed a few beeps later.
“Highlight where they’re different,” I instructed, then watched as the documents were marked up.
“Gods, it’s a whole separate mission,” Sophie said under her breath.
“It’s all there,” I said after scanning a few pages. “The man was the target. A key player in the upcoming vote on an agreement between the Union and Sarkonian Empire.”
“Look who signed off on the op,” Sophie said, enlarging the last page.
“Vice-Admiral-Kaska,” I muttered. “Should have known. Remember, they had a private meeting after we came back from Abatis.”
“And he personally hailed Navari,” she reminded me.
“Right.” I nodded. “Question is, why run this on the side?”
Sophie looked at the decrypted data again. “Maybe it wasn’t official,” she guessed, raising her hands in an “I don’t know” gesture.
“Z, how many other files have an encrypted version?” I asked suddenly.
“Twenty-seven in total,” she responded. “Five completed missions and twenty-two planned for future dates.”
I blinked at the unexpected number.
“That’s a lot,” said Sophie, beating me to it. “We never got that kind of advance notice before.”
“And these aren’t standard ops either,” I noted, enlarging some of the data. “Recon and retrieval has always been our special
ty. This mission’s objective is to plant a piece of tech then report back results.”
“It reads like an experiment,” Sophie said quietly.
I looked closer and realized she was right. Some of the notes sounded scientific and called for strict observation instead of actively pursuing a goal.
“This looks familiar,” I said, pointing to the device depicted in the file. “I’m pretty sure we picked that up on another op.”
Sophie peered at it, but Z answered first.
“That is indeed an object the team previously procured, Sergeant.” She put up details from a recent mission we’d completed.
I remembered now. The Union had supposedly created a device that could pump toxins into an atmospheric generator. We’d been told they planned to use it against civilians of the Empire.
“Eva.” Sophie’s voice had gone brittle and pulled me from my thoughts. “The colony they plan on targeting is on a Sarkonian-controlled planet.”
“What?” I asked, not sure I’d heard correctly. The Sarkonian Empire might not have been the most egalitarian society in the universe, but I couldn’t see them experimenting on a world already in their territory. A quick scan of the planned op told a different story, though.
The Sarkonian government planned to test the effectiveness of their newly acquired weapon on their own people.
“I kind of thought we drew the line at harming our own civilians,” I said, disgusted by what I’d just learned.
It shouldn’t have surprised me that our shitty government could stoop to this low, but it did.
“A lot of innocent people are going to die if they do this,” said Sophie. Ever the caretaker, her eyes glimmered with sadness, then outrage at the prospect. “Something has to happen. They can’t just be allowed to do this!”
I skimmed over the other encrypted mission documents and found most of them were similar in nature. Each planned to use modified Union tech to carry out an experiment. Not all were on civilian colonies, though. Some were uninhabited moons or planets.
As I read, an impossible plan started to form.
“Maybe we can,” I finally said.
“What?” asked Sophie.
“Do something. We’ve got the time now. And we have all the information needed to intervene,” I said, the idea sounding better by the second. “This is kind of what we’re trained for. One could say, my line of work.”
I slid a cheeky glance her way and smirked.
“Yeah, with the full weight of the Sarkonian Empire behind us,” she snorted, looking doubtful. “What about resources, the fact that it’s only us, or, I don’t know, we’re on the run?”
“Minor details,” I said, waving that away. “Maybe your cousin can help us.”
Sophie stayed silent for a few beats and I could tell she was mulling it over. When she started studying the data more intently and nodding, I knew she was hooked on the idea.
“It could work, if everything goes our way,” she admitted. “But we’re going to have our work cut out for us since we don’t have a full team.”
I smiled at her, baring my teeth just a little at the idea of disrupting the Sarkonian government’s plans.
“Guess we better start planning then.”
13
We spent our last day of slip tunnel travel doing just that and realized pretty quickly that a lot of things were going to have to come together if we wanted to not only be successful in thwarting the Empire, but also survive.
Since the Sarkon was less than predictable when it came to claiming territory, they tended to deploy warships throughout the systems looking for easy targets. We saw more than a few ships from both our homeland and the Union on our journey but managed not to draw their attention.
So far Sophie and I had been lucky, but I attributed it more to our cloak than anything. Either way, we made it to Neblinar without running into trouble and I was glad to get the Dreadnight docked. I had to admit, I was less than excited about docking on a planet overrun by criminals though.
Guess we’re one of them now anyway. I frowned at the thought. However justified my actions were, I had committed an act of treason and could hardly throw stones. Not to mention we were about to hire one of our new brethren.
Not wanting to chance using the ship’s transmission antenna, Sophie reached out to her cousin Mack once we had arrived. She’d agreed to meet with us, but it still blew my mind that Sophie had a hacker in her family. There was something left unspoken between us and I had a feeling Mack was part of it, but I kept that to myself for now.
I spent the few hours before she was due to arrive buying fuel and supplies. It took a small chunk out of my credits, but I didn’t mind. For once it felt like money well spent.
For the first time in my life, I was free. No superior officers, no parents, no rules. I walked the bustling streets of Neblinar under no one’s orders but my own, for the first time able to do what I wanted. It was a heady feeling.
Upon leaving my quarters I’d stopped making my bed halfway through, realizing there was no reason to do so. It had been an odd emotion that passed through me at the sight. Not because I could finally be lazy, but because it represented a choice. That had been a thrill all on its own.
Now, I surveyed my surroundings with the practiced ease that came with years of surveillance but also a little wide eyed at my newfound freedom.
Based on the reports we’d seen in the mess hall, I’d expected Neblinar to be more of a criminal-infested shithole. The reporter had made it sound like a cesspit and the feed had depicted buildings on fire, fighting in the streets, and general lawlessness, none of which appeared to be true.
Instead, I found that the streets were reasonably clean, if somewhat trafficked by tough gangster-looking types. Not to say that there wasn’t a seedy element, it just had the feeling of order.
Bright lights flashed and people from all over the systems walked the streets in a variety of cultures and fashions. It was a far cry from Sarkon and the Ambiana to be sure. Even the ritzy town on Sobek seemed tame and boring compared to this. There was a kind of beautiful chaos to Neblinar and I fell in love with it instantly.
A few people looked at me strangely, some with outright hostility. After I caught my reflection in a shop window, realization dawned as to why. I hadn’t packed any civilian clothes, so I was stuck wearing my standard Sarkonian uniform. The muted gray didn’t stand out so much, but the distinctive red trim and Sarkonian emblem did.
Admittedly I looked like I was still part of the Sarkonian military. Considering Neblinar’s recent independence, the uniform could pose a serious problem.
I ducked into the next clothing shop I saw to ditch it but almost immediately stepped out again. The place had been filled with skimpy scraps of material in eye-scorching colors and impractical designs. The sign on the outside of the door explained everything and I felt like an idiot. It was a skin dancer’s emporium.
Shopping wasn’t my thing as a rule. I never took leave or left the Ambiana for anything but operations. The government provided uniforms and basic clothing at a cheap price, so I’d never seen a reason to want for more.
You’ve taken down men twice your size, Delgado. You can handle a little clothes shopping, I scolded myself.
A live display model posing in another shop window caught my eye. When I slowed, she smiled invitingly and crooked a finger at me. I stepped closer and studied the cropped synthetic jacket and utility belt she wore over neon green pants, then nodded and went inside.
A woman about my age with fuchsia hair and a variety of facial piercings sat behind a grubby counter working a data pad.
“I want the jacket in the window,” I said, jerking a thumb behind me. “And the belt. Not the pants, though.”
She looked me up and down, taking in my formal uniform, then flicked a glance at the model. One tattooed eyebrow arched high, but she stood.
“Sure thing, doll. You wants something for under?” She pointed a questioning finger at my che
st.
“Got anything tactical rated?” I asked.
“Sure, they be our biggest sellers.” She nodded then left the counter, motioning one jewelry laden hand for me to follow.
I trailed behind her, moving through racks of bright colors and strappy clothing until she stopped in a section of black near the back. The woman cast an assessing eye over me then waved a hand at a door.
“Go strip. I bring you things.”
It made me suspicious, but I did as she asked. I didn’t know whether this was normal clothes buying procedure or not.
The tiny room contained a dirty mirror and small bench. I peeled off the uniform, each layer like a piece of my old life, then folded them neatly on the bench.
Articles of clothing were slung over the door periodically, and I tried them each on. I’d expected the shopkeeper to try for some of the glaring designs, but she didn’t.
The final result was light systems different than my previous look. I had to say, I liked it. A lot.
Black anti-stun pants felt tailor-made and looked deceptively like a second skin, but they moved with me. Paired with a utility belt made specifically for women, I could carry extra ammo, knives, and charges. A bulletproof top that matched the pants went under the synthetic jacket, which didn’t provide any protection—I just liked the look. Last were black ankle boots with a silver buckle and a hidden toe blade that I more than approved of.
The reflection that stared back at me from the mirror didn’t look anything like a Sarkonian soldier, and I nodded in satisfaction.
I only needed to change one more thing before Sergeant-Delgado was completely erased. Well, one visual thing at least.
Thirty minutes after buying the clothes, I pushed out of a salon, suppressing the urge to grin. “Salon” might have been a bit generous—it had been more of a tattoo parlor that offered basic haircuts for a few cheap credits.
In any case, the approved bob was long gone. In fact, most of my hair was gone, shaved on either side. A strip less than eight centimeters wide and just long enough to brush either temple remained, starting at my hairline and stopping at the base of my neck in a mohawk. On a whim, I’d instructed the vendor to make it dark blue.