by J. N. Chaney
Calliope found a pair pistols, which I bought and told her to consider a signing bonus, Farah got a replenishment of arrows for her bow, and I stocked up on a supply of ammo for my rifle, along with some extra accessories.
Added to that, we padded our supplies of armor piercing rounds, and anything else that looked useful. Clint even put in an order to replace the hovercraft that had been destroyed on Tulkin.
Per his usual policy, Clint agreed to pack up the small mountain of goods and deliver them to the Genesis while we rounded up the rest of our supplies.
I suspected that things were about to get messy, but we were more than prepared.
13
Back aboard the Second Genesis, I took a moment to appreciate our situation. Things had been on the path from bad to worse, but they were looking up again.
I had my best friend and partner back, my wounds were healing nicely, and most importantly I was alive. Now, if I could just stay that way, life would be good.
The stoic woman currently gracing my holo display was testing my patience though. I’d contacted Dunham, just like she asked, and was now regretting it.
“Sitting around waiting isn’t what we usually do,” I told her, keeping my tone mild.
“As I said, Cortez—the ingot is gone. After your failed attempt to retrieve it, I might add. Kaska must have moved it once he knew the location was compromised. The facility was dark when we raided it.”
I tossed a small ball from hand to hand while she talked. Farah had given it to me as a way to work my injured arm, but I found that it helped with focus too. I wasn’t any happier about losing the ingot than her, but I didn’t comment.
“So,” she continued, her eyes following the ball’s path for a moment before snapping back, “my understanding is that you aren’t in any shape to go rushing back into conflict anyway.”
I stopped tossing and leaned forward, squeezing the ball tightly in one hand and making sure to keep it out of view.
“I’m doing just fine. Is there a lead we can investigate to figure out where it might be or what the Vice-Admiral is planning?”
“No,” she said firmly. “Stay put. Recover. As soon as there’s information to give, I’ll let you know.”
The feed cut off before I could respond, and I sighed.
“What now?” Calliope wondered.
The ex-Union soldier swiveled in her crew chair then tapped a finger lightly on the armrest.
Mack didn’t speak and seemed to be in deep thought, her face slack.
“We aren’t just going to sit here,” Farah announced. She eyed me up and down where I sat, one of my arms bandaged and the injury to my side still healing. “You really should rest. We don’t need to take another job until this is all over.”
Her chin jutted out and her shoulders shifted as though she were preparing for an argument.
“Fine,” I said, surprising her. “I had something else in mind.”
She looked at me through narrowed eyes. “Like what?”
“Navari’s files. Maybe we missed something.”
“I doubt that,” she said. “We’ve been over them. A lot.”
“Not me.” Calliope raised a hand and wiggled it.
I jerked a chin in her direction. “See? Fresh eyes.”
Farah didn’t look convinced but didn’t argue further. “I guess it gives us something to do.”
“You in for a study session, Mack?” I asked.
She still had yet to say anything and started a little when I addressed her. “Hmm? Oh, yeah. Sorry, I got distracted. What are we talking about?”
I explained my idea again.
“For sure,” she said when I was done. “It’s always worth a second look.”
“Are you alright?” I prompted. “Seems like you’re somewhere else.”
The hacker smiled brightly. “Yeah I’m good. I was just thinking while you were talking to Dunham.”
I waited for her to elaborate.
Mack cleared her throat nervously. “Look, I didn’t want to make a big thing out of it. It’s just that, well, you’re always ready to go charging off to fight some battle or save someone. Even now, all fucked up—no offense.”
I made a “none taken” gesture.
“Mack, no one expects you to fight,” Farah assured her cousin. “This is what we do, what our lives have been for the last few years. It’s who we are.”
“Not you,” Mack countered. “Maybe Kickass over there”—she jerked a chin at me— “who I’m pretty sure was born fighting, but not you. Hence why you’re a medic. But you still fight. I just sit a safe distance away.”
“Hey, we wouldn’t even be here if not for you,” I reminded her. “Besides, there’s more than one way to fight.”
She bobbed her head sagely. “Exactly. I just keep thinking that if I’d been there, we could’ve stopped the other bomb from going off.”
“You can’t blame yourself,” Farah started to protest, but Mack held up a hand to quiet her.
“This is why I didn’t want to say anything. I don’t want reassurances or coddling.” She turned a fierce gaze on me. “I’ve made up my mind. Next time I’m going with you.”
Having Mack join us was only beneficial to my mind. Even if she stayed on the ship, it beat out having her in another system.
“No argument here,” I said easily. “You’re already familiar with the ship.”
Since Mack had performed all of the upgrades on the Genesis and Vega, she had the same access as me and Farah. It was a good deal all around.
“You still know your way around a firearm?” I asked.
Farah let out a noise between a cough and a laugh and Mack blushed.
“What’s so funny?” I demanded. “You did a term of service like everyone else; I saw your rank in the bulletin…” I trailed off at her sheepish look.
“I altered it. Hacked into the system before academy ended and transferred myself around,” she said vaguely. “Spent my term of service travelling the systems. Eventually discharged myself and left the Empire behind.”
“And no one figured that out?” Calliope asked in amazement.
The girl had been so quiet that I’d almost forgotten she was there.
“Not that I know of,” Mack answered. She sounded more like herself: self-assured and maybe just a little cocky.
“Whatever we do next is going to be dangerous. Even if you stay on the ship, I think it would be wise for you to learn the basics.”
“You’re right,” she replied, getting serious again.
I nodded. “Good. For now, let’s see if there’s anything to be found in Navari’s files.”
Hours later, I rubbed at eyes gritty from staring at the data pad. So far, nothing had jumped out at us.
I pushed up from my chair and resisted the urge to stretch. Doing so would pull at the wound in my side, and I didn’t want to hinder the healing process. Not with a godsdamned war about to break out.
“I’m going to grab an enerdrink. Anyone want one?” I asked.
I got a collective “no thanks” and headed for the kitchen.
Someone had left one of the holo displays on and it was playing the news when I arrived. It was Brice Howard again, the same newscaster who had reported on the train bombing on Solaris.
Inside the fridge unit was a selection of perishables, stuff that was either grown in a hydroponic shop or brought in a cryo shipment, along with a stock the enerdrinks I liked.
I half listened to Howard recount a robbery on Galanos while trying to decide if I was more in a Berry Beam or Slip Space Swirl mood.
Galanos was one of the bigger Sarkonian planets. Appropriately located in the Hel system, it could have been the twin to Sarkon. Hot, dry, and dusty, it served as the capital planet and hosted a decent security fleet.
The green package emulating the inside of a slip tunnel won out. Popping the seal, I swung around to focus on the holo display, mildly interested in the story. Robberies didn’t usually rate as ne
ws since they were a regular occurrence, and I turned the volume up.
Howard—no, I was wrong. Jesse Moraine. Although the two shared similar features—red hair, green eyes—they worked for different networks. Moraine worked for the IBC1, Interstellar Broadcast Company 1, while Howard reported for Dead Lands News 32.
In any case, the bandits must’ve hit something big. Galanos may have been important to the Empire but day to day crime was hardly interstellar newsworthy.
“… the thieves got away with half a million credits’ worth of precious jewelry. Senator Nassar was well known for her political stance on the equal rights of conscripted citizens. The tragedy of her untimely death will be felt for a long time to come.” Moraine continued in somber tones as the holo image shifted to a clip of the attackers entering the store. “If you have any information, please contact your local authorities.”
I muted the feed. Something was nagging at me, scratching at the back of my mind. “Senator Nassar. V, why is that name familiar?”
“The Senator was listed as a potential target in the late commander’s files,” the computer responded a few seconds later.
Something twisted loose as I recalled Navari’s assassination list.
“Bring it up on the workstation in here,” I instructed.
The file on Nassar was pitifully light. One image that looked like her official headshot, a few lines of text outlining her bio, and a short note to cap it off.
“It says here that she’s a governor,” I mused.
“Working,” said Vega. “Public record shows that Governor Nassar was chosen by the Emperor to join his panel of Senators a little over a month ago.”
I did the math mentally. “Right around when we started looking at the files and they stopped getting updated by Kaska.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand the references, Captain,” Vega said, sounding a little perplexed.
I was on the cusp of something now; I could feel it in my gut.
“Just following a hunch, V. Can you bring up all the footage of the robbery?”
“Of course. It will take a few moments to search the entirety of the gal-net. Please standby.”
The holo vids all but confirmed my suspicions. Wanting to go deeper, I gave Vega one more query. It only took a few minutes to verify, then I was sure and sent for the others.
I sucked down the last of the now warm Slip Tunnel Swirl and tossed it in the recycler as my crew arrived.
“Hey, when did we get a workstation in the kitchen?” Farah exclaimed, coming over to check it out.
I let Vega explain it again
“You look tense,” Mack said when she finished. “What’s up?”
“I found something,” I told her.
After explaining about the dead senator, I brought up the footage Vega had found me.
“That’s not your average team of burglars,” Calliope commented, catching on first.
“That was my take too,” I agreed.
“Wait a second,” Farah said, frowning. “This happened two days ago. Don’t we have alerts set up for when someone from Kaska’s list dies?”
I started to reply, then stopped, realizing I didn’t actually know.
It was Vega who answered. “My apologies, but it seems Senator Nassar’s death was not ruled suspicious.”
“It’s the filter parameters,” Mack clarified. “They’re set to return anything that appears abnormal. Nassar didn’t pop because the death itself was clear cut. The authorities didn’t see her as the focus, just an accidental death.”
The oversight chafed, but I wasn’t done.
“The unfortunate senator wasn’t the only recent death.” I pulled up the rest of the data. “At least three from the list have had accidents or died of natural causes.”
“Building fire, surface quake, heart attack, vehicle crash,” Calliope began reading them off.
“That’s more than three,” Farah pointed out.
I nodded. “The list got me thinking. Almost everyone on it is low level or marked as not a major threat.”
“So, where are the big prizes?” Farah wondered.
“Exactly.” I brought up another screen.
This one was an organizational map of the Empire’s political hierarchy. Every name from the list fit somewhere, as well as the extras I had dug up, with a red x marking deceased individuals.
Mack saw the pattern first and her eyes went wide as they met mine. “No way. He’s insane. You really think he’s going to try?”
“Yes. This has been his plan all along,” I replied grimly. “He’s going to kill the Emperor and take control of the Empire.”
14
We spent the next few days sifting through 32 systems worth of data. After a search of those remaining on the list, we moved on to those on the chart that were still alive.
We also started compiling a list of known Solaris Initiative operatives, starting with Angela Dunham. From the woman’s cold personality and no-nonsense attitude, I’d half expected her to still be in the military.
It came as a surprise to see that her title was that of Travel Auditor, a low-level government position.
“No wonder she’s part of the rebellion,” I joked. “Nobody likes auditors.”
Farah laughed. “At least she has an excuse to travel.”
The rest of the list was short and created from memory. In some cases, all we had were gal-net aliases or first names.
When that was done, Vega began pulling in reports from all 32 systems to look for anything suspicious. As it turned out, disaster was an hourly occurrence.
Much of what we found had nothing to do with Kaska or his plans to overthrow the government. A few things did though, and they were enough to make the long, tedious hours of searching worth it.
The Vice-Admiral had systematically taken out not only key members of the Emperor’s inner circle, but also those in government positions that opposed his views. Kaska himself had become more vocal in the past few weeks, revealing his political plans to run for a cabinet position.
“How is this not being noticed?” I wondered aloud in the medical bay. “I mean, Emperor Proscerios’ affiliations are dying at an alarming rate.”
Farah had insisted on doing another check of my wounds. Both were healing nicely and much faster than I’d anticipated. Whatever was in the goo that Farah slapped on me must have been potent.
She shrugged. “You know he’s just a kid.”
This was true. At just 16, Joden Proscerios IV was the youngest person to rule in Sarkonian history. Not that this information was known by the general public. Most everyone in the universe thought the Emperor was an old man. All his public photos depicted him as such because the government didn’t want to look weak.
The only reason we knew was because of an assignment we’d been given a few years back. Proscerios hadn’t been in power yet but needed to travel inconspicuously. To have Sky Claws—the Emperor’s guard—around would have given things away immediately.
The Sky Claws were an elite group of soldiers tasked with protecting the Emperor. Rumor had it that getting in was kind of a wash. It was the highest honor for a soldier to be selected for the royal guard, but once you got in, it was for life. A tightly controlled life at that. Always on call, forced celibacy, and shitty pay. No thank you.
Our unit had acted as support with a small number of Claws accompanying the boy, while the usual guards stayed behind. It was pretty cool to see where royalty lived, but the opulence had been a bit much for me.
We’d been briefed and sworn to secrecy. The real Emperor was dying from a rare form of cancer resistant to the standard treatments, and the boy was primed to take over.
“Isn’t that what advisors are for?” I pointed out.
Farah fixed the final dressing in place as she talked. “Unless they’re all in Kaska’s pocket.”
I hadn’t considered that, though I should have. In fact, there was a lot I’d missed, and I said as much to Farah.
/> “That’s not fair,” she disagreed. “Kaska has been planning this for a long time. Pure chance and dumb luck are the only reason we’re in a position to do anything about it.”
“Not all dumb luck,” I said defensively, then sighed. “I’m just pissed that we missed all of this, even with all the information we had.”
I pulled down my shirt and Farah stepped back to stare beadily at me.
“Don’t sell us short, A. Stopping major disasters has saved a lot of lives.”
“I’m not detracting from that,” I assured her. “But while we were focused on that, Kaska has put himself in position to hurt a whole lot more.”
Neither of us spoke for a few seconds. I was imagining a universe in which the Vice-Admiral was in control of the second biggest power after the Union. It didn’t bode well for anyone.
“Captain Cortez, Co-captain Shahi, incoming transmission from Angela Dunham,” Vega said over the medbay’s intercom.
Farah and I exchanged a brisk nod.
“Put her on,” I said.
Dunham’s severe face appeared on the main display in the room.
“Shahi. Cortez, good to see you looking more alive,” she noted wryly.
“Ma’am. Is there news?” I ignored her comment and hoped the rebel leader took it as me getting straight to business.
Our deep dive for events connected to Kaska had eventually brought us back to the train bombing on Solaris. Nothing we found eased our misgivings of Dunham and the rebellion. No passenger on the manifest linked back to anyone with political ties. For me, the lack of evidence was indicative of the same for Dunham. Every disaster that linked back to the Vice-Admiral was wrapped in subtlety, while the bombing had been a statement.
And I was pretty certain I knew whose.
We’d decided to share nothing we learned and feign ignorance to get information from the Initiative. For the time being.
Dunham dropped her chin in a curt gesture. “Yes. The Vice-Admiral will be on Sarkon in three weeks’ time. It’s a short window in which to prepare, but better than nothing.”