by Dale Musser
“The Brotherhood wants to obtain the plans for both the RMFF and the cloaking devices. They managed to steal one of the Mirage Fighters being constructed on Plosaxen two weeks ago. Fortunately, at Tibby’s suggestion, the ship’s cloaking device was not installed. Cloaking technology is only being installed by Federation teams once the fighter ships have been delivered, and the plans for the cloaking device is not in the hands of civilians, other than for Tibby and his associates. This is a huge relief, but now the Brotherhood does have access to the engine design, which will give them more speed when applied to their own ships. Of course, they also now have access to the design of the Mirage Fighter itself, and can have identical craft built for their own uses. The last communications we intercepted between the Brotherhood groups indicate that they have contacted the Markazians to build several fighters. The Markazians want 60% in advance and the remainder paid in installments by the Brotherhood, with the last payment to occur upon delivery; however, the recent losses suffered by the Brotherhood, in terms of their fleet and their drug operation at Alle Bamma, have left them cash poor at the moment. The best they can do is to have two built. We’re not sure if the Dietyte fusion reactors used by the Markazians can be made small enough or robust enough to power the ships at 50% more speed. They definitely won’t have cloaking; but still, it will increase their threat.”
“I’ll talk to A’Lappe about the engine design and see if he can shed any light as to what we can expect speed-wise from any ships the Markazians may build based on the Mirage Fighter they have taken. In the meantime, do you have any idea where they have taken the ship?” I asked.
“No, we don’t. Although the ship‘s engine was installed at the time it was stolen, it didn’t have the small fusion reactors used for their operation. It was equipped only with a small fusion battery to deliver enough power for the simple and short flight to a starship, where its final power package and cloaking device would have been installed. We believe the ship was flown to a freighter in the area, where it was taken aboard and delivered someplace out of this star system.
“If the Brotherhood’s plans are to have the Markazians build ships for them based on our design, I would think they’d deliver the Mirage Fighter to Markazia or stage it someplace nearby. They will either have to reverse-engineer the ship or get their hands on a set of plans. If their planned approach is to reverse-engineer the craft, it will add to the time requirements, and I don’t see them being able to do that in less than a year,” I said. “Hopefully, before they get that much accomplished, your FSO team will have located the ship so we can organize a raid to either take it back or destroy it.”
“Yes, but if the ship is taken to a non-aligned world and we initiate a raid on the planet to recover or destroy it, our actions would likely be construed as an act of war,” the admiral interjected.
“Ah, but you forget, Admiral, the Mirage Fighters are my personal property. I only lend them to the Federation. If I take my security forces to retrieve my stolen property, it may be contested by whatever planet it’s on as an illegal incursion, but they cannot consider the Federation as having acted against them. I’m a private citizen, not an official government representative.”
I noted Wabussie leaning back in his chair, grinning. “Tibby’s right, Admiral. His actions cannot reflect officially on the Federation.” I suddenly realized by his actions that he had planned this all along, knowing full well that I would make the suggestion.
Wabussie continued. “The second matter I wish to bring up has to do with information obtained by one the operatives you trained, Tibby. He has overheard that another attempt is being planned to intercept a solbidyum shipment. We don’t know where this is to happen, but we believe it will be one of the shipments planned for delivery by GW pod. We don’t know how they plan to intercept this shipment, or even how they know where or when the solbidyum is scheduled for delivery. Our agent was only able to overhear part of the conversation, but the words ‘intercept,’ ‘GW pod,’ and ‘solbidyum’ were all clearly discernible. They also mentioned something about some ‘mercenary friends’ coming into play. We’ve discovered that, in addition to their drug operations, the Brotherhood also has links to piracy and smuggling operations. The Brotherhood believes that, if they can capture one solbidyum shipment, they can sell it for enough money to facilitate development of larger and stronger fleet. There are also indications that they hope to steal more Federation ships and that more mutinies are planned to take place on outlying Federation ships before word gets to them about the Brotherhood’s failures so far. Even though it’s been nearly a year since the DUSTEN incident, there are still planets on the outer edge of the Federation that have not heard of these events and the results.”
“If they had our new DSC, they would,” I said.
“DSC?” the admiral asked.
“DSC, Deep Space Communicator. That’s what Cantolla and A’Lappe are calling the new instant communication system you have started using in your military operations,” I said.
“That system is working incredibly,” the admiral said. “I just hope it never gets into the hands of the Brotherhood; because, from what I understand, there is no way to tap into the communication between two people using this system. At the moment, we have this DSC system operable on about a third of our starships, frigates, and corvettes, and at about 40% of our base locations. We’re not putting it on the patrol ships or Mirage Fighters, as those are always within immediate communication range of one of the larger ships, so any pertinent DSC messages can be relayed to fighter squads.”
“Sooner or later, the DSC technology is going to fall into hands outside the Federation,” I said. “I’ve got to get A’Lappe and Cantolla working on some way to protect or disable the DSC units when that happens.”
“As I was saying earlier,” Wabussie continued, “no one outside of those in the FSO, a handful in the admiralty, and your crew, Tibby, know about the FSO or my position and involvement in it. They believe me to be here on duties connected with the admiralty. I’ve received word from Senator Tonclin today that was rather cryptic. He is visiting the capital on official business and somehow learned that I was here at the capital at the moment. Since you first recruited him to be our eyes and ears in the senate, he has not contacted us; but I received a message this morning saying that he was heading back to Nibaria for discussions with leaders there and that he would be traveling there as your guest on the NEW ORLEANS. He stated that he looks forward to seeing me again, as he understands that I will also be traveling with you on the second leg of your journey to Plosaxen.”
“Oh? I wasn’t aware we were going to Plosaxen,” I said with surprise.
“Nor did I. I suspect that the senator has something he wants to communicate to us and he’s looking for a way to do it that doesn’t appear to be anything other than a social encounter. Since you are known to be a good friend of the senator and I have been known to travel with you and been assigned to work with you in the past, it’s not something that is likely to attract a lot of attention.”
“Well, I hadn’t planned to make a trip anywhere, but a trip to Nibaria isn’t that big a deal, as it’s only a few hours away. By the way, how did you travel here?”
“I came in one of the patrol ships with a standard crew—all of them FSO agents with rank in the Space Corps, by the way.”
“Good. We can carry your ship in the NEW ORLEANS as far as Nibaria, at the very least, and if there is no immediate need for the NEW ORLEANS to take you all the way back to Plosaxen, you can fly back in your ship. The NEW ORLEANS can then either return here or go on to some other destination. But I’m curious — do you have any idea what Tonclin might want to discuss?”
“None at all. Apparently he wants to keep it secret and is trying to avoid any suspicion from his fellow senators or anyone else who may be observing him.”
“Did he say when this departure was to take place?” I asked.
“He said he would be flying to the NEW O
RLEANS the day after tomorrow, so I guess the trip is intended to be sometime that day.”
“I see,” I said, turning to Kala. “Well, dear, it looks like we will be taking a trip at least as far as Nibaria day after tomorrow. Will you contact Commodore Stonbersa and let him know that the senator and Commander Wabussie will be our guests? There’s no reason to make the senator look like a liar. I am wondering, though, what his reason is for the covert manner of meeting.”
“Wabussie,” the admiral began, “I realize that my attendance on this trip will appear suspicious, so I’m counting on you to apprise me of what transpires. I’ll arrange to make a trip to Plosaxen in a week to meet with officials on the base there on some pretext, and you and I can meet then for a briefing. In the meantime, if the issue is something more urgent, you can have the communications officer on the NEW ORLEANS contact my communications officer here at headquarters. Her name is Major Gamana; her functions are executed under top secret clearances and she reports directly to me. But don’t use that method unless it is something I need learn of immediately,” Regeny said. “Unless there is something else, I think we’re through here.”
As we headed back to the patrol ship that was to return us to the estate, I suddenly got an idea. “Kala, let’s go out and get something to eat here in town before we return to the estate. I have yet to go out to a public place to eat anywhere on Megelleon, and I’ve been here over a year now.”
Kala bit her lip; I could tell she was nervous about the idea, but at the same time she was able to sympathize with me. “You really don’t want to go out to dine in your vice admiral uniform.”
“We can change on the patrol ship. The wardrobe replicators are set up to produce any type of clothing we need and I’m sure our measurements are in the computer, as the ship is one of ours.”
Kala sighed and nodded. “Alright, Tib, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Kala made a quick call using her wrist com to contact her assistant back at the estate, asking her to make reservations at some place in the city that she knew of. When she finished her call, she turned to me. “You do realize we must take security with us, regardless of where we go. I suggest we both wear our black dignitary-cut outfits, since we will be accompanied by armed troopers. As First Citizens, we will be expected to do nothing less.” While I didn’t particularly like the idea, I was willing to concede to her conditions just to be a part of the city and the people for a while.
Marranalis was not at all happy about the change in plans. As head of my security team, he was ultimately responsible for our safety. He insisted that all of us, including the security team, carry the personal cloaking devices that A’Lappe had invented. A’Lappe had extended the operational time for each unit so it could cloak one individual for up to an hour, if need be. We were also provided with ultra-thin protective garments – much like insulated underwear, only much thinner. Marranalis explained these acted as armor against stabbings or projectile weapons. He said they wouldn’t stop laser shots or microwave weapons, but they offered at least some protection. He gave Kala an instrument about the size of a small Earth cell phone that she could pass over our food before we ate to test for poison. Thus equipped and properly attired, we headed to the club.
I had never seen Kala in dignitary attire before, as she usually wore her formal military uniform for events and in various casual fashions common throughout the Federation when off duty. The outfit Kala wore this time was similar in cut to my dignitary outfit, with the same Nehru style collar and jacket. She wore a pair of slacks also similar to mine, but with a bit more feminine-style flare at the bottom of the legs. She took notice of me looking at her and I said, “You look very nice, but I’m sort of surprised that the dignitary dress for women and men is so much alike.”
“There actually are two cuts for women,” Kala answered. “This one and a long, black, sleeveless dress with a similar collar. I chose this one, just in case there’s a sudden need for action. I can maneuver and react in a combat situation in this outfit; I could not if I wore the dress.” As she spoke, she opened the arms locker on the ship and took out a flat gun. She handed it to me and took out another one for herself. “Here, put this in your pocket. It’s better to be armed with something than nothing.” I slipped the gun in my pocket.
Marranalis arranged for a ground transport to take us to the club. The transport was more like a large luxury motor home used by wealthy people for traveling around back on Earth. It was equipped with vid screens and a bar, a restroom, and other luxury touches, as well as four additional bucket-type seats arranged strategically for the security detail. Our coach was preceded by two armored ground transports staffed with troopers, and two more following us. When we arrived at the club, we pulled up directly in front of the entrance. The sign outside read TEZU LAGONG which, in some obscure planetary language some place in the Federation, means “The Finest.”
The security team surveyed the area and people were directed to back away from the carpeted walkway that led to the front door. When everything was deemed safe, Marranalis opened the coach door and we exited. With two of our security team leading and two following, we walked to the front door, where we were greeted by a nervous maître d’.
“Honored First Citizens Tibby and Kalana, it is a great honor that you have chosen to dine with us this evening. I am Celpar, the maître d’ of TEZU LAGONG. Please allow me to personally see to your needs this evening.”
With that, he turned away and headed into the restaurant, leading us to a table obviously reserved for dignitaries and VIPs. Our security team took up positions at all the doors – something that didn’t seem to bother or concern any of the guests or the staff. It was obvious the establishment was accustomed to dealing with dignitaries who arrived with bodyguards. In defense of my security team, while they were visible, they were not overly conspicuous; and while their eyes were continuously scanning the room, they remained stationary in their positions and moved very little.
The maître d’ motioned to a waiter, who briskly approached the table and presented us with menus. As he was placing the menus before us, Celpar said, “Would you care for an aperitif – perhaps a nice Lyonian wine? We have a particularly rare and exotic vintage in our collection.”
Kala stared at me and I could tell by the look in her eye that she feared I was going to ask for an afex, but I surprised her. “Yes, the Lyonian wine sounds acceptable.”
“And for you, First Citizen Kalana? Will you be having the same?”
“Yes, thank you, I will,” she said with a slight smile while looking me in the eye.
As the head waiter walked away to get our drinks, the maître d’ stepped forward again. “If I may be so bold, First Citizens, might I suggest you try our Anabur Korsak legs? We have just received a fresh shipment, and our chef has prepared them with a most exquisite recipe. It is a rare occasion that we are able to present them on our menu.”
I looked at Kala and she said, “Thank you for the suggestion; however, I think we will look over the menu before we make our decision.”
“Very well, and indeed, do look over our menu, and may I say again what an honor it is having you dine here at TEZU LAGONG.” With that, he stepped back from the table about three strides, where he stood almost at attention, awaiting our beckoning once we decided to order.
I noted that, while we were able to hear music playing in the dining area, we could not hear any conversation at any of the tables, even though it was obvious that people were talking. Kala noted my concern and chuckled. “Each table in the dining room has voice suppression devices that enshroud the table and out about a meter and a half beyond. Anyone outside of that circle cannot hear a word we are saying. It is one of the things that make this club popular with dignitaries and government officials. The fact that we were able to get in here tonight on short notice indicates just how highly placed you are in the eyes of the Federation. Even senators need two to three days’ advance notice to dine here. Only the leaders and a few top o
fficials ever get in on short notice. I doubt that even the admiral could get in here with less than a four-day notice.”
I glanced around the dining room and noted that most of the guests were wearing dignitary-style clothing. Most were glancing our way and smiling frequently.
“For the people that are here tonight, this will be an event they will be telling their children and grandchildren about well into the future — the night they dined at TEZU LAGONG in the presence of two First Citizens who were dining there as well.”
“We are the only living First Citizens there are in the Federation,” I said.
This comment struck Kala deeply. She sighed and looked down at the table. “Yes, and I would gladly give the honor up if it would bring back Lunnie, Reidecor and Maxette.”
I understood what she meant. Both Lunnie and Maxette had been elevated to First Citizens posthumously because of their heroic actions in the defeat of the Brotherhood when they captured the DUSTEN. Had it not been for their actions, the Federation may well have lost the battle and created a chain reaction throughout the Federation that could have been its downfall. It was because of that same event that both Kala and I were elevated to the honored position of First Citizens; but our sacrifice and efforts were nothing compared to those of Lunnie and Maxette. Reidecor had also perished in that conflict, but his actions were not as outstanding nor as wisely executed as those of Lunnie and Maxette; nevertheless, he had been a dear and valued friend and the kinship Kala and I felt for him was like that of a beloved family member.