“Captain, is everything alright?” Ravaan asks.
“I’m not sure. I’ve had an update regarding that attack we suffered on my first day. It turns out that the Regents have been doing their own investigation” she replies. Ravaan’s brow furrows slightly.
“That is not their remit, it is a military or police matter” he states.
“I agree, but you know how they are. People feel safer dealing with things themselves, I suppose. The issue is they only have one real tool to do so…” she trails off, steeling herself to reveal the truth. She doesn’t need to. Ravaan visibly figures it out for himself.
“The Social Integrity Office,” he says, with real annoyance in his voice.
“It gets worse, Ravaan. Because we were involved, they are going to be…including us in their investigation” she laments. Ravaan sighs loudly. Even to upstanding officers, it is still unsettling to have this outside force second guess everything you do. Nemmy looked at Amira, expecting rage. But she looks…scared?
“They are going to come onto the ship?” she asks. Nemmy nods, which causes Amira to groan quietly. Both Ravaan and Nemmy stare at her.
“Okay Amira, what’s going on? Don’t make me order you” Nemmy says. Amira is distinctly uncomfortable for some reason, and her eyes flit around the shuttle bay to make sure they are alone. After some intense staring, she eventually straightens herself up.
“Alright. That Red that was being transferred. He…revealed information to Lynsey and I that he should not have known. When we pressed him on it he said there…there was a spy on this ship”
“What!?!” Ravaan shouts. Nemmy shares his shock. A Confed spy on their ship?
“That’s impossible, Amira!” She exclaims. Amira sadly shakes her head.
“The things he was saying…who could know all the things that have happened in the past few months outside this crew?” she replies.
“Admiral Winters and his staff” Nemmy instantly snaps back.
“That is most unlikely,” Ravaan interjects.
“More unlikely than having a spy here under our noses?” Nemmy asks. He mulls over the situation for a moment.
“Regardless of who is involved, information involving this ship is leaking to outside agents. Therefore, we could all suffer the consequences of this investigation” he says, and the full weight of the words hits them all. A person spying on the Imperium can expect life imprisonment or death, and anyone considered an accomplice would fare little better.
By now Amira has regained her composure, having shared her obvious burden.
“We can’t tell anyone else about this just yet. I know I’m not a spy, and I’m reasonably certain neither of you is. But we need to discover the truth. Quickly.” She says, exchanging stern looks with Ravaan and Nemmy.
“Agreed,” Ravaan says, to the mild surprise of the others.
“You don’t have some procedural complaint?” Nemmy asks with a touch of humour.
“Procedures and regulations should always be followed, Captain. However, the SIO does not operate within procedural restraints. To me, this is an internal security matter and therefore falls on us to solve it. If there are spies on board, it is our job to stop them. If there are other information leaks, it is our job to suppress them” He postulates. They all agree for once, Nemmy jokes to herself.
“Okay. For now, let’s keep this to ourselves and behave as normal. Amira, when you can, try to find ways to get some answers” Nemmy says. They silently split up and go back to work. Nemmy heads back to the bridge, passing various crew members as she does. She can’t help but look at each person a little longer than normal. How could it be possible? A spy on this ship seemed unbelievable, but there was no way for Nemmy to know. Or to know how much information she may have inadvertently revealed.
Ten of a Kind
“Isn’t this an IPF issue?” Nemmy asks. On the viewspace, the predictably angry face of Admiral Winters contorts even more.
“Those incompetents can’t be trusted to do anything. Go out there, look around, and smooth out any problems. Those farmers are important, and we want them to feel that we care” he says sarcastically.
“But what can we actually do?”
“Just do whatever it takes to stop their complaints” Winters replies, before cutting the comm link as normal. Nemmy made a show of sighing away her frustration, but in truth, she was happy to have something to work on. After the shuttle bay chat with Amira and Ravaan, constantly worrying about holding her tongue around the crew and stressing about potential spies was starting to wear her down. Unrest amongst the populace of a backwater planet was better than nothing. She motions to Shipmate Alaba Chibuzo sitting at the nav station.
“You heard the man. Take us to the Calespo system”
“You got it, Captain” Alaba cheerily replies. Nemmy smiles. If she’s a spy, she is an extremely friendly one. The trip wouldn’t take too long, so Nemmy decided to do a little research on the planet they were visiting. She calls up a data file on her console. Like most people, she’d heard of the Calespo system, which gives its name to the sole rocky planet in a system otherwise filled with gas giants. During earlier expansion periods, finding planets with near exact-to-Earth gravity levels was considered a high priority. It was cheaper to build a station without requiring extensive gravity control systems to make residents feel comfortable. However, this planet’s composition surveys had been in error, and the planet had comparatively little mineral wealth. With little else going for it other than lots of flat surfaces, it was re-purposed into a food processing facility. Increasing numbers of garden domes and meat cloning facilities peppered the surface to the point where the planet now serves as a key food production source for billions of people.
Of course, this didn’t mean the people who lived and worked there earned big money. Despite the countless millions of Rons that ran through the place, most of the people there struggled to pay bills, let alone pay for their own private ships. It did mean, given the constant flow of passenger and cargo ships landing on site that Nemmy would actually get to see the Boomslang land on a planet for the first time. Although Angela might be annoyed that she’s got to sit this one out, she jokes to herself.
Ravaan enters the bridge, quickly taking his seat and slotting his datapad into his console.
“Captain”
“Hi, Ravaan. You know where we are going?” Nemmy asks.
“Yes, I was monitoring. The complaints are…vague at best. Some descriptions of unrest and social violence, but no names are given, no specifics of anything damaged” he replies, flitting confused eyes over the readouts.
“What are we actually looking for?” Nemmy says, equally confused by his reaction. Ravaan scratches his chin, visibly puzzled.
“Why even send a message specifically to the ISF? You were correct; this is technically not our jurisdiction” he says. Nemmy playfully slaps him on the shoulder.
“See, I’m not completely useless” she jokes.
“Let us not get carried away” he responds dryly, causing Nemmy to burst into uproarious laughter, which in turn allows the other crew members to laugh. Even Ravaan himself seems to enjoy the moment, allowing himself a rare moment of levity before returning to his more common professionalism.
“In all seriousness Captain, it seems like the individuals there are not aware of correct procedures. This may be a pointless trip for us” he says. Nemmy agrees, but she can see other positives.
“Probably, but if nothing else, we might be able to get some decent food on board. Get Santiago and Choi to see what they can do when we land” she says. Ravaan nods. They have less than an hour to go.
“Alaba, do you feel up to landing the ship?” She asks the young navigator. Alaba turns around to look at Nemmy. She appears terrified.
“You want me to land the ship on a planet?” she breathes.
“Yes. Don’t worry, you’ll do great”
“Uh…okay. Can Corporal Romanov come up to guide me through it?” Alaba asks. The look on her face makes it clear it’s more a prayer than a question. Nemmy is pleased to answer.
“Of course, I’m sure she’ll be happy to help”
Angela was indeed happy to help, instantly rushing to the bridge barely after Nemmy had finished asking her. She stands next to Alaba, wildly gesticulating about something as they arrive in orbit above Calespo. Kerry Karagounis sits in the weapons station, completely enrapt in the conversation. Nemmy’s attention is commanded by the viewspace. Even from this distance, Calespo’s mud brown surface is visibly interspersed with huge grey/silver expanses, the dozens of food processing centres so vital to the sector.
High above the planet hangs a starship dock, common to nearly all populated planets and moons. Mostly for visitors and locals parking private vessels, this one was smaller than most common designs. The vast majority of the people on the planet either lived here permanently or used passenger liners to travel.
“Ready to land us, Shipmate?” Nemmy asks. Alaba moans.
“Oh dear” she replies, causing Angela to bodily grab her shoulders.
“You’ll be fine, gorgeous! It’s easy. Just keep an eye on gravitational stability and check for errant wind currents as you get into the atmosphere. The shielding will keep us safe” she enthuses. Alaba does not share her confidence.
“You’ve done the sims, it’s just the same” Kerry offers, hoping to cheer up her friend. Alaba takes several deep breaths, muttering flight instructions to herself, before moving the Boomslang into the upper atmosphere. Nemmy leans over to Ravaan, still engrossed in various communiques from the planet.
“Are we actually safe to go through the atmosphere like this?” she whispers. He nods without removing his eyes from the information before him.
“The ship design is not optimal for atmospheric flight, but the grooves will handle the workload safely,” he says, quickly tapping his Strap.
“All hands, prepare for atmospheric entry” he states. Within seconds, almost as if the ship is listening, the bridge starts to shake.
“Heavy winds, I’m trying to compensate!” Alaba shouts. Angela steps back to let her work but keeps a supportive hand on her shoulder. The viewspace shows the thick atmosphere receding slightly as the ship drops towards the surface. The buffeting continues unabated during their rapid descent, causing the image on the viewspace to constantly shudder. The landing area briefly becomes visible, a huge open topped grey dome. The energy shield covering the opening dissipates before a massive gust of wind bucks the ship upwards. Alaba yelps, before zipping her hands over her console.
“Initiating auto-comm link with station network…engaged. Starting the…uh…the grav-connecter…” she says to herself in a strained voice. The ship dips into the opening, and with a significant humming/thudding sound, the grav-locks engage and hold the ship. Alaba slumps backwards, breathing a heavy sigh of relief. The ship is brought to the deck with a clunk, and Angela and Kerry give Alaba a small round of applause.
“I told you it was easy! You nailed it” Angela says.
“Thank you! That was actually the most stressful thing ever” Alaba says. Angela ruffles her hair. Nemmy comes over to share in the congratulations, absolutely beaming with pride.
“Wonderful job, Alaba and thanks for helping, Angela,” she says. Angela curtsies in response. Nemmy looks back to Ravaan.
“I’m going to head down, see if I can figure out why we’re here” she says. Ravaan comes over with a datapad.
“Captain, perhaps you should inquire about this. Food production has been falling below targets in recent months, but the resource usage and stock requisition orders are still the same. This suggests that someone is diverting resources for some other task” he says, very quietly. Nemmy saw nothing of the sort in the rows of numbers, but Ravaan did have an eye for minute details.
“Thanks. I’ll see what we can find out” she replies, before leaving the bridge.
Santiago and Choi had been prepped and were waiting for Nemmy when she arrived in the shuttle bay. Lynsey quickly followed her into the bay.
“You expect trouble, Lynsey?” Nemmy asks.
“Do you even need to ask?” is the reply. “We had a saying in training. You wanna last, be the first to blast” she quips, tapping the plasma rifle on her back.
“Hello! I can’t wait to get all this fresh food!” Choi says as they reach the docking area. Santiago activates the mechanism, and the bay doors start to open.
“I’m not carrying piles of food back here for these mutants” Santiago grumps. Choi softly kicks him in the leg.
“Think of the fruit!” she exclaims, to which he mutters something unintelligible. With the doors open, they step into the dome area. Finding no-one around, they leave the landing pad and head towards the nearest door. Nemmy is struck by the rows of large paintings adorning the otherwise featureless walls. Actual real paintings on canvas instead of digital imagery, each one of some pretty but quite generic Earth-like landscape. As they head through the door, they find a man briskly walking to meet them.
“Ah, hello. I apologise, I wasn’t informed of your arrival. I’m Processing Director Douglas Carey. Welcome to Calespo Processing Centre” he says with a pleasant smile. Nemmy and Lynsey share a look. If someone here sent the info that Winters received, they must have known someone would come.
“Hello, Director. I’m Captain Nemantha Le Beau of the ISF. We’re hoping to stock up on some of your top-quality products. We’ll pay, of course” she says. He seems to freeze for a couple of seconds before responding.
“Ah, I see, of course. I’m sure we can rustle up whatever you need” he says with slightly overbearing enthusiasm. He gestures for them to follow him, and they quickly arrive at a travel port. Within a minute, the large turbo-tube style transport has taken them to a central meeting point. It vaguely resembles the Boomslang canteen, except that it is much larger and packed with display consoles, with chairs planted around hologram displays of various products for sale. The room is exactly as spartan as the landing bay. There are a few doorways leading to other parts of the complex. As they enter, Nemmy notices a man crouching at one of the far-off doors. Even at this distance, it is clear he is intensely staring at them. Douglas leads them to the nearest set of consoles.
“Please, have your pick of our product line. Everything you require can be accessed via these terminals. Delivery will be complete within one hour of purchase” he proudly states. Choi skips over to one, eagerly searching through products.
“I have so many requests from crew members” she jests. Santiago plonks a hand down on the screen.
“If they want too much, they’ll need to keep it in their own quarters, make sure they know,” he says sternly. Douglas, pleased at the extra sales he’ll be getting, takes his leave with a polite bow. Even before he has left, the other man approaches the group. Lynsey steps in front of him as he arrives.
“Can we help you, friend?” she asks, making a point of resting her hand on the pistol holstered on her waist. The man raises his hands in surrender.
“I’m not here to cause trouble, I swear. It was me that called you here” he says, glancing around to make sure they were alone.
“You? You specifically wanted the ISF and not the army or the police? Why?” Nemmy asks. The man takes another long look around, before motioning her and Lynsey to follow him over to the door he stood at previously. Choi and Santiago don’t notice, already squabbling about products.
“My name is Kenrick, and I need to show you something,” He says, his gaze faltering as he speaks. He quickly goes through the door and onwards to another door. Nemmy and Lynsey follow behind. Whilst Nemmy is curious as to what is happening, Lynsey has already armed her rifle. Kenrick arrives at the second door and opens it, ge
sturing for them to enter. They step into a small room with a few men working on a large engine-like machine that Nemmy doesn’t recognise. All the men turn to face them. Nemmy’s jaw instantly drops.
“Oh, Lord above” she gasps.
“Is this a joke?” Lynsey barks, whipping her rifle round the room, unsure of who to aim towards. Nemmy can’t say anything. She just stares at the faces.
The identical faces. Several Kenricks look back at her, all wearing the same matching industrial style jumpsuit. Actual, real-life human clones.
“It’s not a joke. But there is a problem” Kenrick says. He wasn’t kidding, Nemmy thought. Cloning humans is extremely illegal in the Imperium. Not to mention the obvious misuse of resources and equipment, that Ravaan had so cleverly spotted in his research.
“Ugh, could you people wear some goggles or put on some masks or something? This is deeply unsettling” Lynsey moans.
“What’s your…um…problem, Kenrick?” Nemmy asks, pushing aside her own discomfort at the unusual situation.
“Well...the process of cloning has copied over various memory patterns, the more recent the memory, the stronger the recollection. But the machinery isn’t perfectly designed for complete body cloning either. So basically, I, or rather we, cannot actually tell you which one of us is the original Kenrick” he replies. Nemmy gives him a confused stare, but Lynsey figures out the issue.
“We can’t just shoot these guys and leave one alive because we might murder the original man. But we also can’t just leave them running around, because cloning people is illegal and… very weird” she explains, trying not to look at any of the clones.
“Why message us specifically?” Nemmy asks. One of the other Kenricks steps forward to answer.
Unknown Earth Volume 2 Page 2