Militia Up

by J. L. Curtis

  Fargo whistled, “That’s… confiscation, which means they, well, the family, lose all those lands. That’s gonna leave a mark.”

  ***

  Two days later, Fargo, Boykin, Grayson, and Levesque, all in grays, sat in front of the long green table in straight backed chairs as the members of the inquest filed in. Fargo was surprised to see the Director, Doctor Vaughn, sitting in the witness box. Colonel Zhu, followed by Major Johns, from ORBCON, filed in, followed by a lean old man in a black robe with a fuzz of white hair, and glasses perched on his nose. Ferman, no Freeman. He’s the chief justicer for Endine. A fat man in the browns of Planet Security followed him, Meechum. He’s head of PLANSEC. Rumor has it he’s a toady to the first families. He projected to Nicole, “You doing okay?”

  He felt her grumpiness, “I’ve got stuff to do. Don’t understand why I’m here. I was the victim. I don’t remember shit.”

  “I think they’re going to try to get into what you were doing here. Remember, that’s…”

  “I know, I know. I’m Intel.”

  “Love you.”

  “Shut up. Time for that later.” She shook her head minutely, and he withdrew, the ghost of a smile on his face.

  Two more people, one man and one woman followed Meechum to the table, neither of whom was known to Fargo. Three more people filed into the witness box, including a youngish svelte girl/woman in ORBCON blacks with senior sergeant insignia gleaming on her collar. The fat PLANSEC man from the landing pad was the last one in, and a recorder took a position at the end of the table.

  A woman walked slowly to the table to their left, depositing a number of data cubes on the table as she nodded to the panel. Freeman return her nod, and cleared his throat. “I, Chief Justicer Freeman, call this court of inquest to order. All proceedings will be recorded, and Mr. Oh will provide a separate transcript of all testimonies. This will be a closed, restricted inquest due to a number of… security issues.” He cleared his throat again and said, “This inquest is into the death of one Hector Perez, which occurred on thirty-two Septober, twenty-eight twenty-five. Mrs. Park will you please present the facts collected thus far.”

  He projected a probe and felt Zhu’s mind, sensing his quandary about the use of force, frustrations about the hearing, and wondering what he didn’t know about what they were doing. His face might be inscrutable, but his mind wasn’t. Mrs. Park stood and started with a bare recounting of the facts from the time Nicole left the restaurant, enhanced by vid captures, including one of Nicole being stunned and carried to the vehicle. She pointed out that the vehicle was owned by Perez LTD, and the fact that not only Nicole’s DNA, but her wrist and data comps were found in the vehicle at the port. This was followed by a second vid from the port, showing a limp Nicole being loaded into the skimmer by the two men, closely followed by Hector Perez. Fargo glanced at Nicole, who was staring rigidly at the screen, apparently not paying any attention to Mrs. Park.

  She skipped forward to the vid from Grayson’s armor, showing the relative positions of all parties, and Nicole slumping as Fargo had fired the shoulder mounted laser over her to explode Perez’s head. Fargo was amazed he hadn’t singed Nicole, seeing the shot from a different angle.

  Next, she showed the vid from Fargo’s armor, without commentary. Nicole glanced at Fargo and then back at the screen, and he saw her hands tighten in her lap. I guess she just realized how close I came to killing her too. Hindsight, I shouldn’t have taken that shot. But thankfully it worked. There’s really nothing weapons wise on the armor that is… suitable for something like that. Should we have…No! Shoulda, woulda, coulda doesn’t apply. We did what we could, with what we had.

  Mrs. Park jerked him out of his reverie, “Ms. Levesque, remembering that you are under oath, were you aware of any, or did you have any disagreements with Mr. Perez?”

  Nicole answered, “I know he did not like the fact that I did not recommend his wines for many meals at the restaurant. But that was a quality issue, rather than a personal one. I do know, from Raymondo, the maître, that he did not want me serving any table of his or his parties at any time.”

  “Do you remember at any time being aware you were being followed?”

  “No, I do not.”

  “Did you hit your emergency alert on your comp?”

  “I do not remember doing so.”

  “What is the first thing you remember?”

  “Being cold, and wet. And lying on the ground, smelling long pig. And that’s hazy.”

  “So you have no memories of your abduction, or your rescue?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Thank you.”

  Mrs. Park stepped behind the table again, “I call Senior Sergeant Ramirez from Orbital Control. Senior Sergeant, would you take the witness chair, please?”

  The sergeant took her place in the witness chair, hands crossed demurely in her lap, “Senior, would you please tell us what ORBCON has determined from their investigation?”

  “Yes, ma’am. My cube is number twelve.”

  She inserted it, and the senior sergeant ran down the results, including the facts that the skimmer was owned by Perez, had never activated their beacon as required after takeoff, no flight plan filed, and contained shackles under the aft seats. When the next visuals came up, Fargo sucked in his breath. It was from Boykin’s shuttle, and he was amazed to watch the maneuvering Boykin was doing, hearing the grunting, panting, and cursing as she fought the Trader shuttle. Ramirez’ cold recitation of the facts made it even more stunning, and when the Trader’s back track came up, he watched Colonel Zhu closely. Zhu was frowning as the senior sergeant admitted they had no idea where the actual mothership was or had been. He’s not liking that. But he’s not about to stick his nose in. They had no incoming track, and only bits and pieces of planetary tracking, including a possible stop at Hartshorn’s ranch. What caught his attention was the fact that DNA had been recovered from the crash site and been matched to both Derrick Hartshorn and Aldridge Archer, two Firsties who were compatriots of Hector Perez. Zhu didn’t visibly react, but damn, that sent his mind into a tailspin, wondering what other data he didn’t have. He’s really pissed at the previous Det commander now.

  Mrs. Park finally asked, “Do you have any issues with the fact that Warrant Boykin did not properly notify you of the situation in a timely fashion, nor did she activate her beacon until after she engaged in combat with the alleged Trader shuttle?”

  “No, ma’am. GalPat protocols allow covert maneuvering by their assets depending on the situation. She obviously followed the tenants of all pilots, in that she aviated, navigated, then when she could, she communicated. We, ORBCON, do not find her in non-compliance.”

  “Thank you, you may step down.”

  Mrs. Park looked at her list, “Mr. Reynold, senior investigator for PLANSEC, would you take the witness chair, please?”

  The heavyset man stepped up and sat, saying, “Cubes six and seven.”

  She nodded and inserted them, and he walked through the investigation from the time Nicole had left the restaurant, including being followed in the vehicle by Hector Perez. He jumped forward to the killing of Perez, stating, “While we believe there were less lethal options available, a question of timeliness in acting makes those moot. While we believe we should have been notified to effect the rescue, PLANSEC does find this to be a line of duty shoot, complying with all applicable Endine directives.”

  She nodded and asked, “What was the result of the search of the vineyard directed by GalPat?”

  He hung his head, saying quietly, “Cube six please. There were sixteen bodies, or parts of bodies recovered from the vineyard. Fifteen of those were missing females going back thirty years. Additionally, we discovered another one hundred sixty-four bodies dumped in pits near the river. These all appeared to be indentured. Some… were shot. All had slave chips, and many of them were apparently killed by the chips. There were male, female, and children found.”

  “And what is t
he disposition of the four men who were arrested on site?”

  He looked up at her with a pleading expression, “Is it necessary to get into that here? Now?”

  “Yes, it is relevant.”

  “One, the pilot, was killed in lockup. The two guards and supervisor were found dead, apparently by injection of Synth. Possibly murder/suicide.”

  “Thank you, you are dismissed. Director? If you would, please?”

  Director Vaughn took the chair, “I don’t have any cubes. All data is entered in the autopsy record, and Ms. Levesque’s medical file.

  “Two questions, Director. Was Ms. Levesque physically harmed?”

  “Other than being stunned, no. She was not molested in any way. Other than bruising, apparently from hitting the ground, scratches from where her wrist comp was torn off, and some burned hair, she needed no treatment.”

  “What was the cause of death for Hector Perez?”

  “Stupidity?” Which elicited an unexpected laugh from everyone. “Hector Perez died of excessive trauma to the head, to the point that it was effectively vaporized courtesy of a twelve millimeter laser from a range of less than thirty feet. His BAC was point zero nine, and had traces of stims in his bloodstream. Since there was no head left, I could not do any review of brain tissue for lesions or anything else. The remainder of the body was non-remarkable for a ninety-eight year old longevity recipient.”

  “Thank you. You are dismissed.” She turned to Chief Justicer Freeman, “Sir, this completes the presentation. We find that Hector Perez was legally taken under fire in commission of a criminal act, within the continuum of force for law enforcement, and no charges or penalties accrue to Captain Fargo, Senior Sergeant Grayson, or Chief Sergeant Levesque. For Warrant Officer Five Boykin, we find she acted within all applicable GalPat regulations and MOA with Endine in her use of force to protect GalPat assets.”

  Freeman hit a button and a privacy shield rose, blocking both the view and sound, and incidentally, kicking Fargo out of Zhu’s mind. Huh, didn’t know that was possible. Strange that a privacy shield would block thoughts, but I don’t know enough… Oh well, I know which way he’s going to vote.

  Chief Justicer Freeman dropped the privacy screen a couple of segs later, looked up and down the table, “Do I hear any objections? Hearing none, I concur with the results, and close and seal this case. Let no one go forth and speak of this under penalty of law, pursuant to Endine Charter and Law Giving section thirteen, paragraph six, sub paragraph nine alpha. Case closed. You are dismissed.”

  Colonel Zhu motioned Fargo and Boykin over to the end of the table, “You two are cleared, but I don’t want to see a repeat of this behavior, period. You’re off restriction, Boykin, you can go back on flight duties. One more action like this out of either of you, and you’ll regret it. Do I make myself clear?”

  They answered in unison, “Yes, sir.”

  “Get out of my sight.” Zhu turned and stalked out of the room.

  Attack

  Fargo’s comps pinged simultaneously, and he rolled over with a groan. Peering blearily at his wrist comp, he saw it was zero four. He opened the alert and bolted upright, “Dammit, dammit, dammit, now what?” The alert simply said- FEEDER THREE UNUSUAL ACTIONS OCCURRING. NEED BASE CONTACT.

  Fargo quickly pulled on his grays and trotted down the hallway to the office, carrying his boots in his hand. Opening the door, he flopped down, scrubbing his face, “Feeder Three, Base.”

  Daman answered immediately, “Base, Three. Got something strange going on. Got a crowd, estimated at one hundred and growing forming in the village, but not coming out. We’re watching that window that we ID’ed as an overwatch and are seeing multiple people and movement.”

  Fargo shook his head as he slipped on his boots, What the hell? We’ve seen nothing to indicate… Wait, what did the Ferret from the restaurant… “Uh, rog, standby Three. One, Two, Four, are you seeing anything?” Fargo booted the data comp scrolling back through the downloads, looking for the message from Jace about the recordings, and finally found it. POSSIBLE SECONDARY OR TERTIARY ATTACK PROFILE IS TO HIT FEEDER SITES, THE TWO PLOTS MAY NOT BE CONNECTED OR AWARE OF THE OTHER PLOT. YOUNGER SMALLWELL, ET AL POSSIBLE LEADERS OF, OR COORDINATORS OF ACTIONS ALL THIRD GENERATION ATTACKS BASED ON IDS. OPTIONS INCLUDE ATTACKS AND ATTEMPTS TO OVERRUN SITES, GETTING MULTIPLE RIOTERS SHOT TO PROVIDE PRESSURE AGAINST LEADERSHIP TO REMOVE SECURITY. APPARENT GOAL TO REMOVE POWER TO CITIES, FACILITIES NOT OWNED/RUN BY FIRST FAMILIES. POSS GOAL OVERTHROW OF COMPANY/REVERSION TO FIRST FAMILY CONTROL OF PLANET. GOALS BASED ON RESEARCH OF PREVIOUS PLANETARY TAKEOVER ATTEMPTS YEARS 2250-CURRENT.

  “Feeder One has about ten, maybe fifteen protesters, Base. Base, Feeder Two, maybe a few. They may be in that little canyon. Feeder Four, zip nada Base.” Jiri came on, “Base, Four. None here. You want us to mount a QRF?”

  “Negative. I think I’ll alert GalPat, they have a QRF platoon that’s supposedly on call.”

  “Captain, you… We’re here if you need us. Just saying.”

  “Copied all, WO. I am going to put Boykin on standby.”

  Fargo sent a ping to both Boykin and Grayson, asking them to report ASAP, to the office, then ran down the hall to the mess, quickly punching up a coffee and a quick breakfast. Juggling them he made it back to the office before either of them showed up. He keyed the radio, “Feeder Three, can you push your video feed, please?”

  Daman came on, “Pushing. I have twenty segs to sunrise. What do you want us to do?”

  Fargo leaned back in the chair as Boykin and Grayson came into the office. They both looked at him curiously, as he pointed to the wall vid. He heard Boykin say softly, “Damn. That’s… interesting.” Grayson just whistled.

  He keyed the mic, “Uh, Feeder Three, nothing for now. Sonics and the maintenance guy, Mac’s repulsors are running, right?”

  “They are. I’m seeing a few at a time joining the crowd, but they’re not approaching, yet.”

  “Copy, as soon as GalPat comes in, I’ll advise them and get the QRF on standby. All sites keep an eye on your perimeters, please.” He spun the chair around, “What say you, WO?”

  Looks like somebody is ramping up the…”

  Nicole came in, running her fingers through her hair, “What’s going on?”

  Fargo shrugged. “Not real sure. Feeders One, Two, and Three have protesters congregating. Feeder Three has the most, estimated one hundred plus.” He pointed up to the wall vid, “That window in the top center display is apparently where they have an overwatch on us. They’ve seen movement up there already.”

  He saw both Nicole and Boykin looking at the window speculatively, and wasn’t sure he liked either expression. Boykin broke the silence, “I can slip a round through that window no problem.”

  Grayson grinned and nodded until Nicole said meditatively, “Any audio? Or is it too far away?”

  “Too far away. Crap… Should have had them fly a Ferret over there.”

  Nicole smiled sweetly at him, “Now you think about that. That’s why you have intel support, to think about those little things like that.”

  Grayson laughed. “She got you on that one, boss!”

  Fargo glared at him, “You can get something to eat. I think we have time before anything blows up in our faces.”

  Grayson rubbed his belly, “Food good. Ladies?”

  Boykin just shook her head. “Men.” Nicole nodded and they walked out of the office, whispering to each other.

  ***

  Colonel Zhu wasn’t happy to see Fargo, “Now what?”

  “Colonel, I’ve forwarded you the vids from this morning. There is a large crowd at Kwamaine, and smaller crowds at Capital and Archer City. We think this might be a precursor to a large scale demonstration and attempt to overrun the feeder site at Kwamaine.”

  “Oh, come on, Fargo. Really? A bunch of protesters are going to overrun your site? You’ve got sonics. They can’t get through that, and we both know it.”

  “Nothi
ng has happened yet, but I wanted to advise you, and make sure the QRF was available if…”

  “QRF is drilling in desert rescue today. They won’t be available until after fifteen. These idiots haven’t done anything up to now, why do you think they will do something today?”

  “We’ve never seen this level…”

  Zhu cut him off, “Come talk to me if they actually move on your sites, otherwise don’t bother me.”

  Fargo stood stiffly, “Yes, sir.” He did a precise about face and left the office, detouring by the mess to get a bulb and calm down before he got back to their small office.

  A couple of segs later, he walked back into their small office and Nicole looked up. “Didn’t go well, did it?”

  He took a sip from the bulb, “What gave you that idea?”

  “Other than the fact that you look like you have a ramrod up your butt, nothing… Sir.”

  “The good colonel thinks we’re overreacting, and oh by the way, the QRF isn’t available until fifteen.”

  Boykin glanced up from her data comp, “You want to go hang out, Captain? If I put a full bag on, I can loiter for about seven divs.”

  Grayson got up, “I’ll go get chow. Box lunches okay?”

  Nicole looked up at him, “You’re going, aren’t you? Which means I get stuck here, right?”

  Fargo almost reached for her shoulder, but instead projected, “I need to be out there, able to protect the troops. You can do more here, spotting things I’d never see.” He glanced at Boykin and Grayson, “We need…”

  Nicole hung her head, “I know, I know. Intel weenies get stuck behind the scenes,” she said bitterly.

  “I didn’t mean it that…”

  “I know you didn’t, but dammit, I’m not a damn breakable doll. I’ve done field work, hell I’ve been in combat before! I…”

  “Calm down, dammit! If this goes sideways, you don’t have any armor here, and I’m not going to risk you on this damn dirtball!”