by J. N. Chaney
“I’m acquainted with a good many people that I’m sure you’re unaware of.”
It hadn’t even occurred to me that they might know each other. Something in the look that passed between them made me think there was a story there, but Dunham didn’t give me time to contemplate the idea.
“Of course.” Her gaze flicked back to me. “Cortez, our people were able to verify that anonymous information you sent. I need you and your team to head for White Cross. Prosperitas, specifically.”
6
We made it to White Cross in less than a standard week. Senator-Peralta was due to show up for his next audit within a few days of our arrival. Dunham had pulled some strings with Initiative members stationed on Prosperitas so we could surveil him. I knew the rebellion was gaining traction and that only confirmed it. Our reach was growing, and it made me think we might actually have a chance at winning this thing.
Prosperitas was the biggest planet in the system and produced the most N02-99. Because of that it had a massive mining operation, though whoever came up with the name obviously hadn’t had any idea what the planet would become. Or maybe they did, and it only referred to the amount of money it would make the Sarkonian Empire.
Some parts might have been nice but if they were, I didn’t see them. Not dissimilar to Sarkon, the surface was hot, dry, and dusty. That turned out to be in our favor because Farah and I could obscure our faces and hair under the same scarves that the local guards used.
Everywhere I looked there was despair and hopelessness. Most of the workforce were working off some kind of debt, either monetary or to society. Overworked and not paid at all, people looked at the ground as they walked in dejected fashion to and from their assignments. It bothered me to see it, but the truth was that I didn’t know these people or their stories. I knew not all were innocent. In fact, I was sure a lot weren’t. There was nothing I could do at the moment, in any case. They weren’t the mission, Peralta was.
At the appointed time, Farah and I embarked to the door where an Initiative member would let us into the accommodations that Peralta usually stayed in. It was easier than I expected, all things considered. Of the few guards we did see, none stopped to question us, or even spoke to us at all.
The man named Louis waved us inside. “You can take off the scarves. No one in here since the good Senator hasn’t arrived yet.”
“Security’s low, even for that.”
Louis curled his upper lip. “This place is blocked off for him. He’s the prissy type, don’t like to hang around with folks not on his level. Besides, none of the workers try to run. Where would they go?” The sneer fell away as he turned to walk off. “I’ll give you the grand tour in a few minutes. I have to get to the cattery. Almost feeding time.”
“The cattery?” Farah didn’t bother to hide her excitement. She was deadly with a bow but had a soft spot for the feline persuasion. We both did, if I was being honest.
“Yes ma’am. You’re welcome to come with.”
“Absolutely. It’s best if we see as much as possible,” she said, the words coming out in a rush. “You know, for recon purposes.”
He gave her a sidelong glance. “Right. Well, follow me.”
The cattery was loud, filled with the meows of over a hundred hungry cats. Most large outfits had one to help keep the rombdin population down. Rombdin were vermin, much like rats, and could cause major headaches if not managed. It was relatively cheap to provide low grade kibble. Not enough for all of them, since that would make them fat and lazy, but it was a good motivator.
Besides the feeding area, the cattery featured a nursery and a recovery center. The latter was for those cats that were chosen for spay and neuter surgeries, so the number of felines didn’t grow out of control.
“Nice job if you can get it,” I commented.
“Yeah, it’s an easy job to be sure. Gotten a few scratches here and there for my troubles, but most seem to like me.” To demonstrate this, he leaned down to pet one winding affectionately around his ankle. In true cat fashion, it batted at his hand after a second. Louis just laughed. “Finicky creatures sometimes, but I still like them. Alright, that’s done, for the Empire’s honor and all that BS.”
That got a smirk out of me. I guess some people really did still say that, though Louis said it more in a sarcastic manner. We toured the rest of the small building with him so we could get a feel for the place. There weren’t any cameras for Mack to hack into, but that was just as well. It meant less work for us and less chance of getting caught. It used to be that the government’s lack of resources and funding left us in bad spots, but now it was working out in our favor.
Following Mack’s instructions, we put up our own. They were military grade and tiny enough that no one would see them with strategic placement. “We’re all set,” I told Louis.
He took a moment to consult his data pad, then stuck it back in his pocket. “Okay, that’s decent timing. I don’t suggest you stick around. The Senator sometimes likes to show up earlier than planned to surprise us. In case we’re not up to snuff.”
Farah rolled her eyes. “Upper management loves their audits.”
“Joker doesn’t realize we have everything in order a full week ahead of every visit. So, when you get back outside, make sure you follow the route I gave you and avoid the exterior security. Once Peralta gets here, I can’t have any more contact with you. I can’t blow my cover, you understand?”
I reached out to shake his hand. “Got it. Thanks for all your help. Made this process a hell of a lot easier for us.”
Louis’s grip was sure and firm, and he leveled serious eyes on me. “My pleasure. Really. You lot are the only ones doing anything to fight the bastards. You’re the forlorn hope.”
“The what?” Farah asked, confused.
“Fighting the Empire to stand up for the marginalized people is no small task. The risk is considerable and you’re at the forefront of it. Willingly. That means something. There are more people on your side than you might think.”
“I think it’s starting to set in,” I said, grateful for his words. “Take care, Louis.”
With a brisk nod, he let go and shuffled back down the hall.
“Ready?” Farah asked, pulling her disguise back on.
I nodded and did the same. Leaving through the same door we’d entered, the two of us moved cautiously into the dust-ridden outer portion of the mines. It felt a little odd to be walking around in the open on Sarkonian controlled land in full armor with weapons. We couldn’t break character or look unsure of ourselves either. If that happened, someone might notice and stop us, blowing our cover and ending the mission before it even began.
I kept my head up and walked as though I belonged, Farah right by my side. A few soldiers nodded at us, hands going up in automatic greeting. We returned them and moved on without any issues. Only a handful of people knew we were here—trusted members of the Initiative, according to Dunham. It was a safety measure to lower the possibility of a leak.
Though it went without saying, Louis’s words replayed in my mind. He was absolutely right—everything we were doing was dangerous. It was something I tended to forget because most of my life had been a series of dangerous events. Being in special ops wasn’t exactly for the faint of heart.
Once out of range of the last security camera, I relaxed a little. We only had a little way to go now. My mind wandered to the mission and I ran scenarios in my head. The plan was solid, as far as plans went. But, as some wise soul had once said, even the best laid plans got fucked up sometimes. Or something like that. Close enough.
If the op went the way it was supposed to, we’d have Peralta on the Second Genesis in a few days’ time. At that point, we would interrogate him for information about the facility in the Xanderis system. Since Jax hadn’t been back to that system in some time, he was out of the loop. We needed to know whether Kaska was keeping the ingot there. If so, the Senator was going to tell us how to get it.
&
nbsp; Considering the information we had on him, I was fairly sure we could get him to talk. If he didn’t, well, there were ways of getting what we needed, each of them unpleasant. I could see all of this with perfect clarity. Almost. The only thing giving me pause was the final step.
Dunham wanted us to execute Peralta once he gave us everything he knew. Of this man’s guilt there was no doubt. Calliope’s file had been thorough, and Mack had confirmed every detail through a number of different sources. If the situation were reversed, I knew there wouldn’t be any hesitation. It certainly wasn’t a question of character for anyone on Kaska’s team. That was sort of the point. It came down to the person I was going to be with my freedom. If I acted just like the enemy, how could I say I was making a change?
And yet, I struggled. Of all the things the Empire had trained me to become—killer, soldier, government patsy—stupid wasn’t on the list. I understood war on a fundamental level. Maybe better than anything else. It required one to make hard decisions. It meant change, and change required sacrifice. All of it for the greater good.
It made me think of Calliope’s little saying, maius bonum. Maybe the constable was onto something. I pushed the turmoil of my thoughts aside and focused on the now. I’d deal with Peralta’s fate when the time came.
“You ready to settle in our posh accommodations?” I gestured at the small campsite we’d scoped out upon arrival on the planet.
It was far enough away from the mines that none of the guards included it on their patrols. With only two of us on the ground team, Mack would watch from the Genesis while we slept. Jax could have joined us but he was too conspicuous. I’d opted to keep him above, as well as an emergency backup. While the op went down, he’d be ready with a jump rig in case things went sideways.
Farah kneeled to pull our bed rolls from one of the packs we already had stashed. “Oh yeah. Home sweet home. And still preferable to Leah.”
I wrinkled my nose in disgust. “Anything is preferable to that place.”
She murmured her assent.
“Okay, Mack. Got anything for us?” I looked heavenward as though I might see her up in the sky somewhere.
“One star, two asteroid belts, and nine other planets. All right where you left them,” she joked.
“Cute,” I replied. “But how about our target?”
“Negative. No change in pattern from our boys in the Royal Frontier Expedition.”
“Good. Let me know if that changes.”
Our old home, the battleship Ambiana, had been treated like a space station and housed soldiers on active duty when we weren’t on missions. Ships in the RFE carried their inhabitants into active warzones, ran patrols, and guarded places like Prosperitas and White Cross. If there was a change in their usual activity, it would be a strong indicator that something was happening.
“Will do. You guys get some sleep.”
“Later, cuz,” said Farah, barely stifling a yawn.
White Cross had one star in its system, and it was setting.
“Pretty,” I said, passing my partner one of the rations.
She accepted it and checked the label before answering. “Yeah, it is. Hey this might not be bad. Seafood Delight.”
“Good luck. I got Meat Blend Casserole. What does that even mean?”
“It’s safer not to speculate,” she said, leaning away. “Can’t be any worse than those kabobs you scarf down.”
“Hey,” I protested as I activated the MRE. “Sven works miracles with what he’s got.”
Farah snickered. “That’s just it, you don’t know what he’s got.”
We bantered for a few minutes until the rations were gone, settling our pre-mission jitters, then readied for the night ahead.
7
We were up well before sunrise. Nothing had changed over the course of the night, which made me a little antsy. I wanted to be off this rock. Even with the lax security I felt exposed and uncomfortable.
With nothing to do but wait, Farah and I used the time to go over the op and familiarize ourselves with the ground patrols. We got no surprises there as they all matched up with the information Louis had given us.
It seemed to me that the guards were glorified babysitters. Most leaned back in chairs that had been dragged outside to stationary posts. The personnel that ran the patrols didn’t do them on the half-hour, as proper procedure dictated. When they did bother to work, it was only to chat and give the area a cursory glance. I noted half a dozen places where someone like me could have taken them out without being spotted.
My soldier’s brain lamented the ineffectual management with which Prosperitas was run. On the other hand, my newfound rebellious side couldn’t complain when the lackluster security made this the easiest job I’d ever done.
Just around midday, the older man’s prediction came true.
“Got some movement at the slip tunnel,” Mack announced.
I exchanged a look with Farah. We were both more than ready. “Peralta?” I asked when Mack didn’t continue right away.
“Still waiting on confirmation. I’ll know as soon as whoever it is comes through the rift. Sit tight.”
If I had any virtues, patience wasn’t one of them. It took a lot for me to be still, something that used to feel like second nature. In the past months I’d discovered interesting tidbits about myself. Some things were ingrained in my being, like always positioning myself with a full view of any room. Others, like sitting still while waiting for a go ahead? Not so much.
Up until my break from the government, my frame of reference for living had come from decades of being under someone else’s thumb. Freedom was heavy stuff, and sometimes I had to remind myself that it was a delicate balance. I couldn’t afford to lose the parts that made me a good soldier and formidable opponent.
“Got it.” Mack’s abrupt announcement broke into my thoughts. “It’s him. Or, I should say the ship tag matches the information we were given. If it’s a trap and he’s not actually in there, I can’t say.”
“Mack. Too much information and really not relevant,” I said.
“Sorry! I’m still getting used to this mission stuff. Shutting up now.”
It would have been funny were the situation not so tense.
“That’s my cue,” I said. “See you at end of shift.”
“Copy.” Farah shifted to let me by. “Watch yourself out there.”
I tapped two fingers to my scarf covered forehead. “Always do.”
Using the same path as before, I picked my way back toward the building where the Senator would be staying and came to a stop just out of sight. The spot had a good view of the main hub. Guards continued their rounds and posts, watching prisoners who plodded along in no particular hurry. It hadn’t escaped my notice that the prisoners far outnumbered the armed soldiers. If a revolt ever took place, it was feasible that it might succeed.
So why didn’t they try to escape?
Louis’s words came back to me. Where would they go?
And so they had all just accepted their fates. That pill was harder to swallow than one of Farah’s multivitamins. I found the notion foreign. Of course, I had opted to commit treason rather than take my lumps, so there was that.
Dismissing those thoughts for now, I focused back on the activity before me. Based on the relative calm that still encapsulated the goings on, news of Peralta’s impending arrival had yet to spread. All I had to do was hole up here until it did, then I could join the fray without anyone noticing. That was the plan, at least.
I didn’t have to wait long. Two hours into my surveillance the first change presented itself in the form of two guards who went rigid with no prompting. They spoke with a certain intensity, both gesturing and pointing. Though I couldn’t hear what was said, I assumed they were going over their own mission: passing the audit.
After that, the atmosphere changed in rapid succession. The prisoners picked up the pace, some jogging to reach their destinations. The chairs and stools disappeared
, as did the card games I’d spied being played. A sleeping guard was rousted and sent inside. I figured he was going to down a pot of coffee or maybe a few enerdrinks.
When the activity became near chaotic, I made my move.
Drawing attention to myself went against every training lesson on infiltration, but this mission called for it. Doing my best to look confused, I turned in a slow circle before pulling a trashed data pad from my pocket. It did the trick.
“Hey, you!” One of the first soldiers that reacted to Peralta’s arrival ran over.
The man, whose name and rank patch said he was Lieutenant Ahmadi, yanked his scarf down and I had a vision of him ordering me to do the same. Before he could, I started coughing, doubling over for dramatic effect. “Sorry,” I said, taking a gulp of air. “I just got in. Two months of almost nonstop slipspace travel. Not used to the dust yet.”
“Cripes. Better keep the scarf on when you’re out here then. Might do you good to get a respirator even when you’re indoors until you acclimate. Where are you supposed to be?”
I lifted a shoulder like I was lost and handed him the pad. “My orders say building C, guard detail for some audit. Looks like you’re getting ready for it now.”
Ahmadi let out a snort. “We’ve been ready. This is all just cosmetic, easy enough to fix before the Imperial Auditor lands. It’s really Senator-Peralta, but he prefers the official title while he’s here. Pain in the ass, but necessary. But gods, why the hell did they stick a new addition on audit guard duty? I swear no one in the assignment department knows what they’re doing. PFC Reyes, is it?”
He spoke fast, the words coming out in one long sentence. I coughed again to keep up the charade and nodded.
“All right. Your paperwork is in order. Building C is over there.” Ahmadi jerked a thumb over his shoulder to the building Louis worked in. “I’m the team leader, so if you have any questions, track me down. I’ll have the building supervisor bring you a respirator so you don’t get lost trying to find one. His name is Louis.”