The Daltus Conspiracy

by Andrew Gates

  The Daltus Conspiracy

  The following novel is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this story have been invented by the author’s imagination and are not intended to represent anything in the real world.

  First copy published for America by Kindle Direct Publishing in 2019.

  The Daltus Conspiracy

  Copyright © 2019 by Andrew Gates

  Written by Andrew Gates

  Cover Art by Justin Davis

  All rights reserved

  The Daltus Conspiracy

  By Andrew Gates

  Table of Contents

  Chapters

  Pursuit

  Ghosts of Red One

  Saboteurs

  Imprisoned

  Feathers of a Peacock

  The Business of Making Money

  Digging

  Interlude

  A Meeting at Neil’s

  Blake and Orion

  One on One

  The Rogue

  Bargaining Chip

  A Secret Rendezvous

  A Source Willing to Talk

  Interlude

  A Strong Hand of Cards

  The Caged Bird Flies Free

  Mercs on the Maglev

  Unexpected Company

  On the Run

  No Place for a Mercenary

  Drifting Through Space

  The Optimist

  The Service of AI

  Unrecognizable

  The Dollhouse

  Dreams of a Safe Place

  Regroup

  The Wrath of Boltoc

  A Silent Observer

  Beyond Mateo

  The Hidden Patriot

  Epilogue

  Other

  Glossary of Terms

  Note from the Author

  About the Author

  To you, the reader of this book, thank you for taking this journey. I hope you enjoy the continued adventures of Ellen Milsen and David Cutter as they return to Thrace after their adventures on Taspansa.

  Enjoy!

  The Daltus Conspiracy

  Pursuit

  Earth Date (Revised Julian Calendar): 03.10.5673

  Location: Cargo Bay 12, Good Hope Space Station, Galactic South of Trio Prime, Cordovanian Alliance Space

  Boltoc ploughed through the pile of crates as if they were nothing. His body was like a ramrod. His enhanced muscles and thick skin made him practically unstoppable.

  The target turned as he ran and glanced back at Botloc. A look of fear overcame the man. He instinctively reached for the pistol holstered at his hip.

  “That won’t save you,” Boltoc muttered to himself as he pulled out a pistol of his own and fired it. The pulse blasts hit the target directly in the right arm, forcing the man to drop his weapon to the floor.

  “Aah!” he screamed.

  Boltoc continued to press forward. The target desperately backed up and tripped over his own legs. He was vulnerable now. This was almost too easy.

  “Hey, boss!” someone shouted from a level above. Boltoc turned to face the catwalk over his head. Two guards ran in, carrying pulse rifles in their hands.

  “I’m down here!” the target shouted as he squirmed across the floor. “Help!”

  The guards spotted Boltoc almost immediately and opened fire, prompting him to duck for cover behind a nearby conveyor belt. The blasts missed him, just barely.

  Guards, now there are guards. Boltoc sighed. He just wanted to get this over with already. He did not enjoy traveling this far out into Cordovanian Alliance Space. He preferred to stay close to home. Right now, Boltoc just wanted to return to Mateo, back where he was born and raised.

  A few more pulse blasts hit the conveyer belt, but the enemy fire died down soon enough. Once it was clear, Boltoc popped up from cover and spotted the two guards. He got a few shots off before they returned fire, forcing him back to cover again. The guards were unscathed.

  “I don’t have time for this shit,” he muttered aloud. Boltoc reached for a grenade in his pack and primed it. He didn’t care if he was in a space station or not. He waited for a few seconds, then popped up and hurled it to the catwalk. With his enhanced muscles, the grenade travelled far and landed at the guards’ feet.

  The two men did not even have a chance to jump away. Before they knew it, the explosion went off, engulfing their bodies in a fiery inferno and taking most of the catwalk with it.

  Boltoc quickly returned to cover as an ocean of fire filled the air around him. Within seconds, the fire died away. Boltoc popped up safely. A large chunk of the station’s cargo was lost, but that was not Boltoc’s concern. All he cared about was getting the job done and getting paid. Keeping this place together was someone else’s priority.

  Boltoc sprinted to where he had last seen the target fall to the floor, but when he got there, the target was gone.

  “Dammit,” he muttered to himself.

  He could not have gotten far. Boltoc knew he could easily catch the man. The question now was, which way to go? Cargo Bay 12 had three entrances and exits, or eight if you counted the ventilation shafts, though he knew the target was not clever enough to figure that out.

  Boltoc searched the floor. There was no trail of blood, no trail of anything. He let out a sigh of frustration.

  Boltoc switched his vision to infrared and scanned the area. The room was still too hot from the grenade explosion. Everything glowed around him. Infrared was getting him nowhere.

  “Dammit,” he repeated, switching his vision back to normal.

  Plans one and two were out. It was time for plan three.

  Boltoc hacked into the system’s security feed. Cordovanian tech this far south of Trio Prime was easy to break into. It only took a few seconds to get around the security.

  Now looking at the live video feed, Boltoc spotted the target exiting through the carbo bay’s main entrance. He must have slipped right past Boltoc during the skirmish.

  “There you are,” he said aloud as he tightly gripped his pistol.

  Not wanting to delay the pursuit any longer, Boltoc sprinted back toward the main entrance. He navigated through the tall racks and piles of cargo with ease.

  He suddenly heard footsteps following him on the catwalks above. That sound could only mean one thing: more guards.

  Sure enough, beams rained down on him from the catwalks. Boltoc dove for cover behind a metal crate and waited for the enemy fire to die down. Once clear, he popped up and got a few shots off. He counted three guards in total and managed to hit one center mass. The other two promptly returned fire, forcing him to duck back behind cover.

  Boltoc turned to face the main entrance as beams pounded against the metal crate. The target was clearly visible now, limping toward the massive doorway. It seemed Boltoc had managed to catch up.

  Once the enemy fire died down again, Boltoc wasted no time. He emerged from cover and sprinted toward the target. The guards fired at him, but he was too fast. He outran the shots as he pressed across the cargo bay. In a matter of seconds, he was right on top of the target. He dove forward and grabbed the man, tackling him to the floor.

  “He’s got the boss!” one of the guards shouted. Boltoc could hear them running franticly down the steps.

  Boltoc quickly lifted his weapon to the target’s head and pulled him up. By the time the guards arrived, there was nothing they could do. They both paused in place and stared at the hostage.

  “Hey there, take it easy,” one of the guards said. There was a tone of nervousness in his voice.

  “Drop your weapons or I shoot him,” Boltoc ordered.

  “Easy,” the same guard repeated. He dropped his pulse rifle to the floor and kicked it over.

  The other
guard did the same without saying a word. This man seemed even more afraid than the first. His whole body shook and his face was pale white.

  “What about the pistol holstered inside your shirt?” Boltoc said.

  “What you do mean?” the first guard asked, playing dumb.

  “Do you take me for an idiot?”

  The guard stared at Boltoc for a moment, as if deciding what to do. After a few seconds, he sighed and pulled a pistol from inside his shirt. He dropped it to the floor and kicked it over.

  “Good, good,” Boltoc said.

  “We did what you want. Now let him go,” the guard declared.

  “Okay,” Boltoc replied as he shot the target clean in the head. Blood and pieces of brain matter flew everywhere. He then raised his weapon to the two guards and calmly took them both out. All three bodies dropped to the floor at once, lifeless.

  This is Boltoc, he said over the telepathic grid, or ATG. Target has been eliminated.

  Roger that, Boltoc. I’ll need confirmation of the kill before payment.

  Boltoc smiled as he pulled out his laser knife. He activated the blade. It glowed blue in the darkness of the cargo bay. He leaned down over the target’s body and pressed the hot blade into the corpse’s neck.

  Understood, Boltoc replied. I’ll give you his head.

  A little medieval, don’t you think?

  Not for me. I see it as just another day on the job. Boltoc separated the target’s head from its body and held it in his hands. He took a few moments to appreciate the sight, then placed it in an airtight bag. You hired me because I’m the best, Boltoc continued. So if you want confirmation, you’ll get confirmation.

  Roger that, Boltoc. I’d hate to be on the other end of your rifle.

  As would I.

  Boltoc smiled. It was time to go home.

  Ghosts of Red One

  Earth Date (Revised Julian Calendar): 04.21.5673

  Location: Navigation Control Room, VSC Patriot, Outer edge of Thrace System, Vexa Corp Controlled Space

  Captain Daltus tapped her trimmed fingernails against the metal railing before her as she stared at the holo. Glowing images of planets, asteroids and stars filled the air. The VCS Patriot stood at the center of it all, powerful and imposing as always.

  The captain took a sip of her warm coffee and smiled at the sight of her warship. This was the only thing protecting Thrace from the dangers beyond the system. Commanding such an important vessel was a daunting task, but one she had done well for years.

  Daltus had seen her fair share of conflict in the past, especially when the Lightspeed Wars came to this system. She envisioned the sight of Horron Fields burning from orbit. The captain shuttered and closed her eyes, hoping to put those thoughts out of mind. There were times for those memories, but right now she did not want to relive those horrors.

  Captain, the three voices of the ship’s onboard AI greeted in unison.

  Daltus placed her coffee mug on a nearby desk and looked at the holo again. She noticed a small ship emerge from lightspeed. It glowed blue in the projection.

  “Yes, what is it?” she asked the AI.

  Captain, there’s a vessel incoming from lightspeed. It’s on approach to Mateo.

  “Yes, I see it,” she replied. “What are we looking at here?”

  Running an analysis of it now, the voices replied. Hmm… this is most curious.

  “What?” The captain just wanted a direct answer.

  Assuming this data is accurate, the ship appears to be one of the lost vessels from Red One.

  “Red One?” Daltus repeated, practically spitting out the words in shock.

  Red One was a name well-known throughout the system. Centuries ago, Vexa Corp decided to terraform a new world there. Unfortunately, things did not go quite as planned. Somehow or another, the water production exceeded expectations. Before long the planet was covered in ocean and endless rain. Mission command ultimately deemed this world uninhabitable and the operation ended in disaster with many believing someone had sabotaged the equipment.

  To make matters more interesting, substantial cargo had been left behind from that mission including several spacecrafts and even human children. They had never been seen again… until today.

  Somehow or another, a ghost from that mission-gone-wrong glowed on the holo. She could not believe it. A thousand questions filled Daltus’s mind in that instant.

  “Put them on,” she demanded.

  Roger that, Captain. Hailing them now, the AI replied.

  Daltus took a few seconds to straighten out her uniform. She made sure her metals gleamed in the ceiling light as she positioned herself before the camera.

  Coming through now, Captain.

  She cleared her throat.

  The holo suddenly transformed as it turned into the image of a flat viewscreen. Two pilots took up the space, one male and one female, both ratted and dirty. Their hair dangled before their eyes. Their clothes appeared torn and dusty. It was as if they were homeless.

  “Travelers,” Daltus began, trying to look unfazed by their strange appearances, “welcome to the Thrace system. My name is Captain Daltus.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Captain Daltus,” the woman replied. She sat up straight. “My name is Corporal Ellen Milsen and this is David Cutter.” She casually motioned to the male pilot next to her.

  The captain froze. She knew those names. Everyone in Thrace knew those names. Corporal Ellen Milsen and David Cutter were the only two Vexa Corp personnel involved in the terraforming mission who were unaccounted for. Both were assumed dead.

  “Milsen and Cutter, you say? Interesting,” she said.

  The man claiming to be David Cutter turned and muttered something to the woman that Daltus could not quite make out. The woman seemed unfazed by his remarks. She simply stared forward.

  “That’s quite a ship you have there,” Daltus continued. “Our data says your ship was reported missing for over 1,300 years ago. It was last seen docked with the VCS Euripides. Care to explain where you found it?”

  “This may seem strange to you, Captain, but David Cutter and I got lost on that same Vexa Corp terraforming mission over 1,300 years ago. We set out with the Euripides. We have only just now made it back to the system,” explained the woman claiming to be Ellen Milsen.

  “Over 1,300 years ago?” the captain repeated.

  “Yes, in the Vexa Prime system,” she elaborated, “the world called Red One.”

  “Red One was a failure. The world was abandoned. Nobody was left behind.”

  “We were, Captain.”

  Daltus froze again. If this was true, this news was astronomical. Milsen and Cutter may very well have been alive this whole time.

  The captain turned to face her confidant in the military police, a woman named Lyla. The well-dressed woman stood only a few feet away, but carefully positioned herself offscreen. Today she wore a blue dress with pearls around her neck. Daltus nodded to Lyla and Lyla nodded back. She clearly understood the gravity of this news.

  “I hope you understand our hesitancy. A story like that is rather exceptional,” the captain said as she returned her gaze to the camera.

  “I understand,” the woman onscreen replied.

  Is their ship still on course to Mateo? Daltus asked, privately confining in the ship’s AI over the telepathic grid.

  Affirmative, the three voices replied.

  “I cannot allow you to land on Mateo at this time,” Daltus said, bluntly breaking the news to her new visitors. “Instead, I request that you dock with our ship, the Patriot. I am sending you docking procedures now.” The captain transmitted the data to their ship over the ATG. “In the meantime, Corporal, I’ll be running an extensive check on your background from my end. I hope you do not mind.”

  “Not at all. We have nothing to hide,” the woman responded.

  Daltus was not so sure.

  “Proceed on the designated route and do not deviate. Doing so will result in force,” the
captain said.

  “Trust me, Captain Daltus, you have nothing to worry about. We are proceeding on course. See you in five hours.”

  “In five hours then, Corporal.”

  With those words, the holo snapped back to displaying planets in the Thrace system. Daltus stared forward in shock for a few seconds, then slowly turned to face Lyla.

  “Jesus, do you think it’s really them?” Lyla asked, breaking the silence.

  “The evidence all points to it. They have the missing ship and everything. I’m inclined to believe them,” Daltus replied, letting out a deep breath. She picked up her coffee again and took another sip.

  “What should we do?” Lyla wondered.

  “Prepare a cell for them,” Daltus replied as she lowered her mug. “We need to have them contained.”

  “Of course. I’m on it.” With those words, Lyla turned and took off. She was out of sight within seconds.

  Daltus turned again and stared at the blue ship on the holo. She could not believe it. An opportunity like this came once in a lifetime and she was not prepared to waste it.

  Saboteurs

  Earth Date (Revised Julian Calendar): 04.21.5673

  Location: Docking Bay, Section 214, VSC Patriot, Outer edge of Thrace System, Vexa Corp Controlled Space

  Natalie pushed through the crowd of onlookers as the ship touched down on the metal surface of the Patriot’s docking bay. So many people had come, some old, some young, some well-dressed and clean, others ragged and dirty. Natalie could hardly move through the mob. If the rumors were to be believed, she had to get up front. She had to see it for herself.

  How’s it looking? asked her boss, Rina, over the ATG.

  Still trying to get up front. Don’t worry, I’ll get you that footage one way or another, Natalie explained.

  A guard in a pristine white suit suddenly stopped her, his arm outstretched before him. Natalie froze in her tracks. She was not about to fight a guard to get through. There were some rules she was not willing to break.