by Chris Reher
“Yessir.”
“From what I see here, you look to be following his example.”
“I try, sir. Thank you.”
“Forty hours left until your Hunter Class trials. Impressive. What is your goal after that?”
She lifted her chin. “Targon, sir.”
He raised an eyebrow. “A fine objective, Lieutenant. That’ll put you on a battleship into deep space.”
“I hope so, sir.”
“Much more interesting than guarding this dust ball.” He pointed down, toward the planet. “Or patrolling a jumpsite.”
“Those assignments have their challenges as well,” she replied dutifully.
He nodded. “You’ve lost some colleagues recently. I’m sorry. That is never easy.”
“No, sir. They’ll be missed. Our squad was… is a tight unit.”
He looked up at Dakad. “That is good to hear.”
She glanced at the major standing beside the colonel. She stood with one hand around the wrist of the other, no doubt recording this meeting with the camera in her data sleeve. Her elaborately tattooed face gave nothing away. She and Dakad would also be sitting if any of this was as informal as the Colonel appeared. Nova stopped herself from squirming nervously as she tried to recall anything that might give her cause to feel as nervous as she did. Nothing came to mind.
“As you know, we’re still involved in the investigation of the horrific event on the flight deck. It appears that a new material was used to compromise the power packs on General Ausan’s shuttle. We’ve traced some components to Pelion so far.”
She frowned. “Those packs aren’t volatile. What we saw was an explosion.”
“Exactly. The labs are busy figuring that out.”
“Sabotage, then? Rebels?”
“Likely. The question is: how did it get aboard?”
“I’m sorry, sir. That isn’t my field. I would assume the material was already aboard her cruiser when it arrived.”
He tipped his head. “A reasonable assumption. Leaving the entire ground staff at the Siolet base under suspicion.”
“I suppose,” she said uncomfortably. “Some of us were guessing that they wanted to blow it here to make more of a statement about the orbiter. And bag a few pilots while at it.”
“Also reasonable. Meaning that someone up here could have tampered with those packs after she arrived.” He gestured to the terraces. “Crew, admin, pilots.”
“Sir, surely you’re not suggesting that the pilots had anything to do with this. Our pilots suffered as many casualties as the ground crew.” She leaned forward, unable to hold herself in check much longer. “Why am I being questioned? And here? By you?”
“The rest of the station staff is being interviewed by security. But we have some additional inquiries for you.”
“Sir?”
“Tell us about Djari Nathon,” he said, watching her intently.
“Djari?”
He consulted his screen for the correct name. “That’s Nathon Lis Djari. You know him well.”
Nova blinked, trying to discern the direction of this inquisition. “Yes. He was with us in Shon Gat. Working with the wounded there.”
“Yes, we’re aware of what happened there.”
“He… he’s a farmer. Somewhere in the Rift. He said he came to look for work up here.”
“And you petitioned General Ausan to expedite that.”
“Yessir. He showed great fortitude at Shon Gat. He helped us escape. It seemed a small reward for his actions.”
“What is your relationship with him now?”
She furrowed her brow. “He’s been dealing with some… difficulties. But I like to think that we are friends,” she added firmly.
The colonel came to his feet and gestured for her to remain seated when he walked to the perimeter of the sound-shielded space. He looked out over the terrace for a while before returning to stand behind her. She felt him place his hand on her shoulder and fought an urge to pull away.
“Your friend is under suspicion of aiding the rebel on Bellac,” he said finally.
“What?” she cried out before biting her lip and reminding herself to hold it together in front of these people. “That’s not possible.”
“Oh?”
“He’s just not like that. He’s suffered as much as any of the locals have. He’s no rebel.”
“He may be a spy. Or even just a sympathizer.”
She shook her head. “He has no regard for them.” She looked up at him. “And he would not even think about something as horrific as the sabotage in the hangar. He cares about people. I’ve seen it.”
The colonel returned to his chair, likely assured that they had enough video of her reaction to this news.
“Besides,” she said. “If he’s a spy he’s not a very good one. He’s never pushed me for any information that he shouldn’t have. And he was hurt in the blast, too.”
“He had no business on that deck.”
She shrugged. “He said he was picking up a shipment of seeds.”
“Five cargo pods arriving daily and he has seeds delivered to the flight hangar? The whole point of the elevator is to make that unnecessary. Security should have stopped him. Yet he seemed to know how to avoid them.”
“He’s a farmer. What would he know about placing explosives onto a guarded Air Command cruiser?”
“How do you know he’s a farmer?”
Nova closed her eyes. Chemical analysis kits in his room. Boxes of material there one day and gone the next. Guns. Evasive answers. “I don’t.”
“Coria Taren,” he said.
“Sir?”
“Coria Taren, liberated along with yourself and a few others at Shon Gat. I’ll say that ‘liberated’ is not the correct word. She is a confessed rebel operative who’s been working in Shon Gat for months. She was also ‘captive’ along with you and Nathon Djari?”
“Yes,” Nova said faintly. “I suspected she might have been one of them.” She looked up, feeling caged. “I was in no position to arrest her!”
“But you did not suspect your friend Nathon Djari?”
“I can’t believe he would side with the Shri-Lan.” She looked up at Dakad and then stood up to pace, as Colonel Thedris had done, to the edge of the terrace. Crossing her arms she looked up through the skylight to the glittering solar collectors above.
Was it possible? She thought about Djari’s endless patience and gentle handling of the injured at Shon Gat. His knowledge of agriculture was undoubtedly the main reason for his presence up here, with or without her recommendation. He had been a solid rock in what had been weeks of turmoil for her, and that only for a few exhausting, confusing days.
But he had not once asked her about Coria. Did he know what happened to her? When he escaped Beryl’s men at Shon Gat, was it to flee for his life or to avoid being taken to the garrison? Had the rebels captured him after that, or had he joined them on his own accord? She had heard him rail against the Union and against Air Command methods. She had dismissed it as weary grumblings in a miserable situation.
And maybe, she thought, this was the reason why he had showed so little concern over her flippant comment after he had first made love to her. If the colonel’s accusation were true, Djari knew that there was no future here on this orbiter for him and that there was none for them together. At best, she thought, he cared enough to want to stop her from boarding the doomed shuttle. And she had responded by practically flinging herself into his bed.
“Idiot,” she whispered. Gullible, unthinking, impulsive, stupid! How she ached to confront him this minute, wherever he might be. She went back to where the others waited, unmoving. “You wouldn’t be telling me this if you thought I was compromised, too. What do you want from me?”
Thedris waited until she had taken her chair again. “Normally, I’d relieve you of duty, arrest him and see how the investigation shakes out.”
“And abnormally?” she said, too angry and disappointed fo
r military etiquettes.
“I’ve spoken to your past commander.” He peered more closely at his screen. “Andridge on Tannaday. The two tours you did there were well spent. She speaks highly of you. For the most part. Your loyalty to the Commonwealth is not in question.”
“I’m glad,” she said flatly.
He pursed his lips and shifted them around for a bit as if making up his mind about something before speaking. “You’ll continue your friendship with him. None of our agents have been able to get on anything more than a sociable footing with him. He’s polite but we get nothing but a blank wall from him.”
“You want me to spy for you?”
“Yes. We think he might be able to lead us to more higher-placed rebels in the Bellac Shri-Lan group. Perhaps even outside of Bellac. There is nothing to be gained by arresting him just yet. He’s a minor piece. We’re not even sure that he was responsible for the explosion in the hangar.”
She looked up at Captain Dakad as if for help. “I’m not trained for covert ops.”
“We’re not sending you into Shri-Lan headquarters.” Thedris smiled up at the Feydan major. “Although it would be a day for celebration if you found out where that is these days.” His expression sobered when he returned to his screen. “You have enough training in languages, surveillance equipment and security protocol to be useful. We want you to engage him, discover what you can about rebel activities on Bellac or elsewhere.”
“Is he dangerous?”
“He’s not a farmer.”
Nova had to make an effort to maintain her erect posture, wanting nothing so much as wilt in her chair, perhaps with a cozy blanket wrapped around her. Oddly, her thoughts wandered to Lieutenant Boker. Heiko Boker, who would surely come up with some disrespectful comment about this, who would ultimately comfort her with something fairly sensible, and who was dead now. Perhaps because of Djari. How she wished for him now, the only person here, other than Lieutenant Rolyn, to whom she might admit her stupidity for having trusted the man.
“What is he, then?” she said.
“We don’t know. He’s been in Shon Gat for some time, waiting for a work placement up here. None of the rebels we captured there had any information about him.”
“Including Coria?”
“Including her.” He observed her for a moment. “Lieutenant, I can imagine it is difficult to hear that a friend has fallen under suspicion. We all know that saboteurs have been able to infiltrate many levels of both Air Command and Union governance. That doesn’t make it easier to find out that a trusted person is not who they appear to be.”
She nodded but his words brought a small whisper of hope. “What about our people? Is it possible that he’s an agent? One of ours? Working in Shon Gat?”
The colonel shook his head. “We checked with Targon. There are no special ops going on that we aren’t aware of. Our own plain clothes are accounted for.”
“May I ask why you suspect him? Other than that he’s not a farmer?”
The major standing beside Thedris finally found her voice. “As part of the investigation we have been tracing the movements of all station personnel over the past few weeks. Nathon Djari made two trips to the surface to arrange for plant material. In both cases, he met briefly with the growers and then took a private skimmer into Siolet. Accurate facial recognition is very easy right now, given his recent injury. He was spotted in several locations that are known to be sympathetic of Shri-Lan members. He sent coded messages from here to a mobile operative on the surface not long before the explosion. We suspect a receiver hidden among the caravans. A closer examination of his background turned up a number of discrepancies, although artfully concealed. Unfortunately, we did not check this until after the explosion in the hangar as part of the investigation. He is now under surveillance.”
Nova was still processing the information she had just been given. “Huh? What?”
“We are tracking his movements and have placed surveillance at key points along his daily routine.”
“You bugged his room?” she gasped, aware of a furious blush creeping up along her neck. “When?”
“Yesterday. When we received the report from Command.”
Nova dared to breathe again, suddenly very skeptical about Djari’s motive for taking their private encounters elsewhere on the station. So much for star-dappled poetry! He just wasn’t much for having his love life recorded. If he did, indeed, work for the Shri-Lan, checking his room for hidden devices would be routine.
How she wished she still thought of him as just a smuggler! Captain Beryl and his self-serving operation suddenly seemed very insignificant.
“Colonel, I’m not sure that I’m comfortable with—”
A strident, pre-emptive whine from the colonel’s com system cut her off in mid-sentence. He tapped his sleeve to receive the message without voice. His brow furrowed. Several minutes passed before he closed that communication and began another, this one audible.
“Shri-Lan forces have attacked the Rim Station with a shipment no Rhuwacs,” he transmitted. “Shrills are reported over Siolet near the commerce center. A carrier just came out of sub-space at the jumpsite and has engaged our fighters out there. All are requesting reinforcements.”
Dakad and Nova exchanged a startled look. He engaged his own communicator to sound an alarm in the pilots’ quarters and on their com bands. “We’re deploying. Pilots only. Not a drill. Upper flight deck in ten.”
“Sir, what about the elevator base?” the Feydan Major asked.
“Shon Gat is quiet,” Thedris replied and turned to Dakad. “Take your squad to the jumpsite. We’ll send Caga down to Siolet.”
“Aye,” Dakad replied. “You’re with me, Whiteside.”
Chapter Eleven
“What’s going on at the jumpsite?” Nova asked when she arrived at their rally point, still fastening her flight suit. A glance at the overhead screen showed that the other two squads stationed here were also mobilized. She held a new data sleeve up to let its sensor record her retina and begin to download her programs. “Is everyone deploying?”
“Yes,” Rolyn answered. “Dead silent around here. It’s all going down at Siolet and the ‘site. There’s going to be one big rebel ass-kicking when I get out there, I promise you.”
They listened to the urgent messages reporting the sudden appearance of one of the Shri-Lan’s rare carriers at the jumpsite. A hail of Shrills had descended upon the Air Command ship stationed there, forcing them to scramble both of the local squadrons to protect the partially complete relay station.
“How far out are we?” Nova’s screen showed that the planet’s position along its orbit put them in fairly easy distance to the jumpsite. They could arrive there within the hour. “You’d think they’d wait until we’re elsewhere.”
“They’re brilliant tacticians,” Rolyn said as he pulled his helmet over his head. “Looks like you’ll be collecting a few points today, Whiteside.”
“Yeah,” she said, but even to herself sounded lacking in enthusiasm. The colonel’s accusation buzzed around her head like some annoying insect. She tried to swat it by remembering why she was here. This was about joining her squad and doing her job and maybe dispense a little justice to those who had murdered their friends. “Make sure to say ooh and aah when Dakad can hear it.”
“Ladies,” Dakad shouted when the displays showed that his squad was assembled and their sections confirmed. “Saddle up. Let’s get this furball swept up before they get here. They took out the relay at Callas so who knows what else is coming through that hole.”
Nova tapped Rolyn’s helmet and rushed for her Kite. Nikki, her favorite hangar jockey, gave her a leg up onto the wing and she slid into her pilot couch with a giddy sense of anticipation that she quickly suppressed. The Kite recognized her neural link when she engaged the interface and all systems came online. Like the others, she would wait until they reached the battlefield before deciding to rebalance the command functions of the plan
e. Nova preferred to handle her Kite manually and target enemy ships via the mental interface while some of the other pilots did the opposite. She hovered off the ground and listened to the count as each section moved into the chutes and from there into space.
“Section Four is a go,” Flight Control announced.
Nova halted outside as she waited for the other two in her section to fall in. “Come on, come on,” she said, impatient to be gone. “Let’s slice up some of those lame-assed Shrills!” She turned briefly to give a thumbs-up to Rolyn when something far below the flight deck caught her eye. A cruiser attached to the shipping docks seemed strangely out of place there. Usually, those spaces were taken up by the boxy transporters that never entered the atmosphere as they plied their trade between orbiters and base stations. Occasionally, a cargo ship from outside the system docked there to save the expense of landing. But the ship down there now was a private passenger cruiser of Caspian build, not the sort of plane used by Air Command. Certainly not a plane meant to haul anai oil or frozen fish.
She considered only briefly. If that ship was a smuggler, choosing this moment to remove the mince from the station, any evidence she had against Trakkas and his men would be gone. She swooped out from the station and then immediately cut her speed. “Whiteside lame,” she said. “Returning to base.”
Dakad kept his usual expletive-laden comment to himself. “Shake it out or pick up another plane, Whiteside.”
“Heard. Don’t wait for me.” She circled wide and ran a few tests that would seem legit on sensors while taking a closer look at the shipping docks. “Tower, is there a shipment coming in today? Any type?”
“Affirmative,” she heard the harried reply from the tower where everyone was too busy with the remaining launch to worry much about a kink in her wing or questions about shipping. “Are you coming in?”
“Yes.” She hovered into a chute on the upper deck. A private cruiser on the shipping level? None of this, including the attacks on the jumpsite or Siolet felt right. “Do your job, Whiteside,” she mumbled even as she slid over her wing and to the ground. “They know what they’re doing. You just go shoot some rebels.”