“The ones that have help from media sources,” answered Connor.
“I don’t think we can trust the press to report leaks that might be damaging to Triaxus. Someone is influencing the media to be biased in their reports.”
“That, too,” Rinko admitted.
“Even if we could connect to a communication relay,” Alexis said, “our message would be one more low priority, unencrypted communication among trillions crisscrossing the Tuatha system. It might take days, weeks or even longer for anyone to notice its contents. If they flag it as nonessential civilian traffic, our message will be archived and may not be read for months.”
Taylor folded arms over his chest and sucked his teeth. “Where does that leave us then?”
“Our only viable option is to send transmissions on military frequencies at the highest priority, which will supersede all other communications and reach our intended target without delays. We need command authorization to achieve that.”
“Major al-Ajlani or I can provide the authorization for Elathan Fleet or Tactical Command,” Tessa claimed.
“That’s helpful, but doesn’t give us the ability to contact Delbaethi or Confederacy warships.” Alexis shifted in her chair and shrugged. “You said it yourself: Elathan and Delbaethi authorities both need to hear the truth for any hope of a ceasefire.”
“And the Confederacy needs to know about Triaxus’ duplicity if we want to stop their invasion of Tuatha,” added Evan.
“Right. Which means our only hope of reaching everyone is connecting on an Authority network. That links us to Confederacy fleets, gives us the potential to hack into Delbaethi servers and lets you contact your superiors. We’d have the ability to communicate with all three opposing governments.”
“How close to the Tuathan system do we need to be for this to have a chance?” inquired Harun.
Rinko pursed her lips and frowned. “Damn close. Like Lex said, the Authority has the power to control all communications into and out of their territory. They can shut down relays and the entire InCore network. This is no unrestrained, online version of the Wild West where all data flows freely and without limit. The Authority government wanted safeguards in place for every eventuality, and they made certain InCore followed directives. We need the closest Confederacy outpost to Elathan or Delbaethi space, to make sure our message isn’t intercepted or blocked. Then we duplicate our signal as much as possible in the hopes one gets through and someone on the other end can compile the message again, like they used to do in the early interstellar days.”
Tessa cast a glance toward Harun. “Kanaloa?”
“Fits her requirements,” he said.
“Where’s that?” inquired Reyes.
“Lawrence, do you have a starchart handy?”
“Always.” Alexis pulled her UpLink from a pocket, accessed the astronavigation projection feature and placed the device on a table’s surface. An expansive, blue-tinged holographic map of the Astraea Cluster materialized throughout the lounge, with names and complex mathematical coordinates situated beneath each star.
Harun stepped into the projection and brushed his hand across the Cessair Sector, encompassing Tuatha and a hundred other systems, enlarging the image until only that region of space filled the room. “This is the Tangaroa system,” he announced, pointing at a bright representation of the star. “Only one light-year from an unclaimed system called Magh Tuireadh, which is approximately six light-years from Tuatha. Tangaroa is the closest territory to our home controlled by the Confederacy, which claimed sovereignty to prevent either us or Delbaeth from expanding farther. Both governments bristle at the thought of Authority warships and personnel this close – about the only thing we agree on, to be honest – but can do nothing without inciting war. Not that our reticence prevented conflict in the end.”
He waved his hand again and zeroed in on Tangaroa itself, projecting the orbits of twelve planets throughout the lounge. “Kanaloa is the fourth planet orbiting its star, currently frozen in the latter stages of an ice age. The colossal glaciers are gradually receding, which means Kanaloa will be a garden world in several millennia. For now there’s a shallow band of habitable land around the equator. The Confederacy Parliament hasn’t decided whether to let the ice age end naturally or to force its termination through advanced terraforming procedures. Since there are other candidate worlds for colonization that don’t require such drastic resources, Kanaloa remains a low priority. In the meantime there’s a permanently staffed scientific installation on the planet, conducting experiments on cryogenics and other related fields.”
“Are they alone on the surface?” asked Kyla. “Seems irresponsible to leave intellectuals undefended within striking distance from Tuatha.”
“You’d be correct to believe that.” Harun jabbed a fingertip on the holographic representation of Kanaloa, creating a glowing circle over the surface. “Which is why there’s also a military facility nine hundred kilometers from the science base.”
Reyes waggled a finger at the marker. “What does your government know about the base and its personnel?”
“Little, I’m afraid. Detailed information is classified, and there’s a limit to what our scouts or spy drones can learn. Expect several hundred soldiers and support staff at least.”
“We know they aren’t Starfleet Marines or other elite special forces,” declared Tessa. “Jurisdiction for defending a planet’s surface belongs to the army, which uses Kanaloa as a hostile conditions training ground for recent academy graduates. This is essentially a peacetime garrison of fresh-faced boot camp survivors stationed on a scientific curiosity away from active trade routes. They aren’t an imposing or well entrenched assault force.”
“They still outnumber us by a wide margin,” Kyla said. “I’d prefer to err on the side of caution, even if none have frontline combat experience.”
Harun cleared his throat with a gruff cough and pointed at Kanaloa once everyone’s attention returned to him. “What makes Tangaroa ideal is the restriction against civilian traffic. The system has a dedicated comm relay for the outposts, and since all transmissions are conducted on a military frequency, the relay won’t be privy to a shutdown by the Federal Reconnaissance Agency. Any broadcast made inside the system will be transmitted to wherever we choose. Assuming we can take control of their servers.”
Alexis leaned forward and stared at the glowing blue orb representing Kanaloa, one finger tapping her chin. “That might work. Seven light-years from Tuatha is much closer than I thought we’d be able to get. How do you plan to deal with the army base? This isn’t some civilian outpost you can scare with a low flyover and couple well-placed cannon shots.”
“We’ll determine our ideal tactic. Kanaloa has never suffered an assault of any kind, so even one freighter will take their personnel by surprise.”
“Are there starfighters on station?” questioned Reyes.
“Unknown, though likely,” Harun admitted. “Our drones have spotted atmospheric craft at irregular intervals, but not reliably enough to determine the numbers or designations. Count on perhaps a squadron of older model starfighters like Skippers or Blinkers. My immediate concern involves breaching the science building. Much like Vanderlin’s penthouse, the security and encryptions in an Authority facility will be too difficult to crack remotely. We’ll need to be on the ground inside the installation.”
All eyes shifted toward Rinko and she uttered a groan. “Remember the days when I stayed on our freighter and plied my trade at a safe distance? I miss drinking hot cocoa in my pajamas and not being shot at.”
“This time I’m going with her,” Alexis pronounced. “Rinko might need a second pair of hands to infiltrate an Authority network.”
Taylor lifted a hand to silence the suggestion, though Alexis knew he spoke out of concern for her safety rather than from a lack of faith in her abilities. “That isn’t necessary. Rinko can handle what needs doing on her own. I want you on the Solar Flare offering support with
our systems.”
“Let me rephrase that. Rinko isn’t going anywhere without me. Not again. Besides, this scheme depends on a successful interstellar transmission in adverse conditions, and there isn’t anyone here who knows communication protocols better than me. This is a two-woman job whether you like it or not, Captain.”
“Three,” Tessa added. “I’ll come with them and watch their backs while they do their technical wizardry. They’ll need someone who can offer support if things become dicey.”
“Fine,” Taylor muttered. “I’ve lost the stomach for arguing against folks dead set on being stubborn. Feels as though I’m whacking my head against a wall for all the good it does.” He glanced sidelong across the lounge. “Reyes, you tag along, too. You and Tessa should be adequate to intimidate the science team into compliance. I sure hope so at least, since four crew is all we can spare. Everyone else is needed to keep the military base pinned down.”
“Any idea how you’ll be pulling that off?” asked Rinko.
“Not in the slightest. Planning is for long, boring FTL trips, and I hear we have one in our near future.” Taylor unfolded his arms and paced across the chamber. “Evan, have the spaceport engineers finished their repairs?”
“Last safety check was done earlier today before you touched down.”
“Good. Connor, get us airborne on the double. No sense overstaying our welcome in this cursed system. I’ll be glad to have that target off my back. Disgruntled spooks, you still have access to your networks or resources?”
Tessa held her combat knife in one hand and used a cloth to clean its smooth, glinting blade. “Some. We were supposed to remain independent and anonymous on this operation, which meant cutting most ties with the Security and Intelligence Service. But with Kaneshiro’s help we might be able to connect to a few dark sites and unofficial nodes.”
“Make it happen. We’ll need every scrap of intel you can find on the Kanaloa army facility in order to have any hope of providing cover for our infiltration team.”
Harun shifted on his feet and appeared uncomfortable, or nervous even, for the first time since forcefully injecting himself on the freighter. “There is one thing that bears mentioning. Kanaloa won’t be the same as boarding a civilian space station, bypassing library security or even breaching a hotel. None of those are comparable to what we’re now attempting. This is a Confederacy military installation on a world without regulations or legal oversight, staffed by soldiers who are trained to kill. They will not hesitate to pull the trigger once we’re in their crosshairs.”
“Little late to develop a conscience and start worrying about our safety,” murmured Kyla.
“I want this crew, however unprofessional and unapologetically obstinate you may be, to understand the difficulty and risk inherent in this task. When Specialist Dirksen and myself dictated the terms of this arrangement, I promised you would not be ordered to launch suicide runs in the name of our mission.”
“Thought you two were willing and happy to sacrifice everyone for your cause,” Connor remarked.
“Don’t believe for a moment that means I want to. You were correct to criticize and question my methods before. Your lives have value, no different from those I’m desperate to save. I have no right ascribing less importance to one life than another. My own resolve hasn’t slipped; I’ve always been willing to sacrifice myself to get the job done. But I shouldn’t expect anyone else to feel the same. I fear I can’t do this task alone, but I won’t command you to follow me either. The crew of this freighter - the spiteful, juvenile, intelligent and capable crew - agreed to help us acquire data implicating an outsider manipulating our war with Delbaeth. You did that, and I could not be more grateful for your assistance. But no one swore an oath to infiltrate a military base. No one agreed to go to war.”
Taylor offered a half-cocked smirk and strolled closer. “Technically, no one here even agreed to help with the data collection. You forced that on us, then strong-armed us into traveling to Balor and the Heliades. But this mission on Kanaloa needs to be done, and we’re the only ones able to do it. Far as I can tell, no one is lining up to jump ship.”
“You smugglers are still able to surprise me, it seems,” responded Tessa. “Self-interest and greed appeared to be the norm from similar felons and ne’er-do-wells I’d witnessed in action. I thought we’d need to drag you all kicking and screaming to our final operation, or start dumping dissidents out the airlock. Guess I was wrong, and for once I’m happy to make the acknowledgement.”
Chapter 25
Alexis bit her lip and established a stable, encrypted connection on a private channel. This was a risky chance to take, even more so for the reason this tactic was hers alone and came without blessings from either Taylor or Harun. No one aside from Rinko knew their mysterious benefactor from Thoth was her father, and consequently each person on the freighter still chose not to trust his motivations or reliability. Alexis could not explain her reason for placing total faith in him without betraying his identity, a line she was unwilling to cross. This strategy, a failsafe against the possibility their objective on Kanaloa might not be achieved, remained strictly her plan.
The private terminal in her quarters flickered online into static and she waited until her father’s identity was confirmed and his own encryption accepted. A snowy screen resolved into his smiling features.
“You don’t know how nice it is to see you again, Alexis.”
“You too, Dad. Sorry we didn’t have the chance for another lunch date.”
“Are you still on Thoth? My console isn’t giving me an accurate location for your source feed. It says the information is unavailable.”
“I muddled the data on this end of our conversation in case someone is listening.”
“Your paranoia hasn’t quieted yet, I see.”
“Talk to your own government if you don’t believe my concerns are warranted. You were the ones who passed the War Measures Act, allowing the Directorate and FEDRA to increase their surveillance tenfold. Someone is always listening these days.”
“The War Measures Act serves other purposes than limiting privacy and empowering our intelligence agencies.”
“We’ll have to disagree on that.”
Her father frowned and pinched his nose. “I didn’t want our call to resume the same less than amicable tone from our lunch. Let’s try to start over. If you aren’t on Thoth, where are you?”
“We’re in transit,” she answered. “Stopped in an uninhabited system to vent our propulsion core heat buildup. I can’t tell you more than that.”
“Wherever you are, it must’ve cost a fortune to access priority bandwidth on a comm relay for a real-time video conversation with the Heliades. Some smaller companies send text-only messages to avoid the exorbitant fees.”
“I emptied most of my savings for the privilege. We’re fortunate FEDRA hasn’t tried blocking all private communications over InCore yet. But I didn’t have much of an account to begin with, so we only have a twelve minute limit. We’ll have to make the time count.”
“I’d rather hear how you’re doing, but I imagine this has to do with our last conversation.”
Alexis nodded, feeling a stray bang brush her forehead. “We have evidence, Dad. Honest-to-God proof that the Tuatha war was orchestrated by Triaxus.”
“You can’t truly believe—”
“This is real. I’ve seen it for myself. Focusing exclusively on how absurd this sounds means you aren’t approaching the situation with an objective mind. Think about what Triaxus stands to gain from conflict between the Confederacy and non-aligned worlds. Article Thirty-Seven in the Authority Charter allows corporations to seize and exploit star systems in enemy territory to reduce their ability to wage war. Elatha and Delbaeth hold more than a dozen systems combined, all with valuable planets, moons and asteroids ripe for mining. If Parliament voted today to award a contract for resource extraction, who would the frontrunner be?”
“Triaxus Co
rporation.”
“They’d gain practically a hundred worlds overnight thanks to one motion.”
“There was already discussion during an earlier session to let representatives from Triaxus attempt to broker a ceasefire between Elatha and Delbaeth as a trusted intermediary that didn’t explicitly represent the Confederacy’s interests. You believe someone was maneuvering them into an influential, perhaps authoritative position?”
“Yes. Triaxus can’t enter an uncharted system without facing years of red tape and bureaucracy, and they can’t mine anywhere claimed by a Confederacy member world unless they’re given a contract first. But war means no waiting, paperwork or supervision. And no restrictions on what they can do. Their revenue would increase astronomically, making them the wealthiest company in the Astraea Cluster by far. Wealthier than the economy of most planets even.”
“This evidence you claim to have,” her father said, “it’s irrefutable?”
“We have documents detailing exactly how they manipulated every government involved. We have records, logistics, personnel movements and expense trails related to a private fleet they constructed to pose as Delbaethi naval warships. Those are the vessels that attacked the Confederacy task force in Tuatha to incite a declaration of war. We also have less damning though still incriminating data like forged financial accounts and evidence of illegal business tactics.”
“I presume you want me to reveal these files in Parliament and shed light on the conspiracy.”
“No. Doing that will only make you a target. The people responsible kill to silence dissent. They already have. I have a different way you can help, one that’ll keep you far enough away and prevent them from being able to attack you openly. They can’t afford to murder everyone who disagrees with their objectives, so we’ll make you one more politician obstructing their aims. They’ll have to come at you sideways first and offer bribes or concessions, because you won’t have tipped your hand. You’ll be a roadblock rather than a threat.”
Outriders Page 34