Enter the Sandmen

by William Schlichter

  “You’ll take out the whole cruiser if you blow that window. Those heavier shields aren’t for stopping missiles. Mokarran or not, you’ll save a lot of soldiers.”

  “Commander, we have more than enough tactical data to analyze and the Mokarran will be forced to retreat. The null field their hyperspace engine creates will trap us here longer than our shields’ resistant stand up against the Throgen cruiser,” Australia informs him.

  “Commander, I know I’m correct,” Amye says.

  Scott maintains, “Chances are better of damaging the cruiser firing on the cannons.”

  “Target lock on the front cannons,” Reynard orders.

  He didn’t even hesitate to consider. Amye sinks into her seat. She knows she’s correct. She could reprogram the missiles to target the window. She’s not part of the military. She’s not a drone in the UCP fleet. She’s Amye Jones and knows she’s accurate in her assessment.

  “If you do, all the hard work you’ve done to prove yourself to this crew goes out the window,” Kymberlynn warns.

  “I destroy the cruiser and show I’m worth more than he could have ever bargained for.”

  “And if you’re wrong, he’ll drop you off on the next rock with a breathable atmosphere and I won’t be able to talk him out of it.”

  “Missiles are locked onto the forward cannon embankment. You may fire when ready, Commander,” Amye notifies Reynard.

  The sable outer shell of the Dragon swims across the surface of the hull. The constant wavering skin moves as if it were alive. Much like clouds to the gazer, the ship appears to take the shape of a mythical beast. The oval forward section of the craft becomes the head, which stretches with a long neck into the massive body of the creature with a powerful wingspan. The living skin moves away from a square section under the wings. Missile racks lower. The activation of ten weapons should send alarms through both the Mokarran and Throgen sensors, but the Dragon’s cloaking shields prevent such detection. The serpent-shaped craft and all weapons systems remain invisible.

  Reynard fires.

  Five rockets accelerate from under each wing.

  On the Mokarran bridge the missiles seem to magically appear on their sensors.

  Unable to keep the Dragon in its present location, Reynard ignites the thrusters.

  It won’t take even the dumbest tactical officer two seconds to discern that rockets appeared from a cloaked ship and discover its location.

  The missiles loop around the front of the Throgen battle cruiser, smashing into the second largest cannon emplacement. Explosions dot the surface.

  The Throgen fighters designate the Tri-Wings and speed toward the Dragon’s location.

  Reynard activates the hyperdrive. The folding of space envelops the Dragon as the hyperspace engines employ. The Silver Dragon slips into the first phase of hyperspace.

  “We did no damage,” Amye reports, her tone louder than necessary.

  Scott skims through the sensor readings. “I doubt those missiles could have damaged any part of that cruiser.”

  “We pulled those Throgen fighters away from the Tri-Wings. It will give them a chance to regroup and defend themselves,” Australia adds.

  “If the Mokarran would open fire with their main guns, they could have better protected their own.”

  “I could release our footage on the ISN. Let everyone see how the smerth’n Mokarran cruiser didn’t back up its own fighters.”

  “No, Doug, we know the Mokarran were allowing the slaughter of their own, but we’d need more proof. Those indoctrinated into the Tri-Star Federation will spin it as if the cruiser couldn’t fire. It’s tactically better we keep this information for us and Admiral Maxtin for now.”

  “Release it anyway,” Amye pipes up. “Even if the Mokarran deny the accusation this time, the next time they don’t protect their own fighters, how many soldiers do you think will abandon the battle? Soldiers won’t die for commanders they don’t believe in.”

  Reynard turns to his first officer for her opinion, “I feel everyone needs an edge on the growing threat of the Throgen Empire. Broadcast it. We give no advantage away and may gain a few allies.”

  Doug opens his link to the Interplanetary Subspace Netscape. Before he’s able to transmit anything, a broadcast bursts through the communications network.

  “Commander, receiving a zenith alert.”

  “What’s a zenith alert?” Reynard asks.

  “Nothing leading to anything good,” Amye mumbles.

  “High-priority criminals never are.” Kymberlynn adds, “The bounty’s extensive for good reason.”

  “When did we program Athena to notify us for flags on criminal bounty rewards?” Australia activates the alert at her monitoring station to read it for herself.

  “I never have. Automated alerts hide worm viruses tracking your location when accessed. I filter them all out,” Doug says.

  “What’s the significance?” Reynard asks.

  “Not entirely accurate, Doug,” Australia says. “Athena has been programed to monitor channels for certain alerts—pertaining to a list Admiral Maxtin provided agents.”

  “If Maxtin wanted us hunting for someone, why didn’t he personally assign us to do so?”

  “Commander, this reward is on someone who works for Maxtin, like we do,” Australia says.

  “One society’s criminal is another’s patriot,” Amye adds.

  “No. This bounty activation is a form of secret communication from the Admiral,” Australia reports.

  “So this guy works for the Admiral same as us?”

  “I have no details on his assigned operations,” Australia informs her captain.

  “How do you know about this?” Reynard asks.

  “When Admiral Maxtin assigned me to the crew, he informed me of a short list of names. If any of them were to become active bounties, it was to communicate a coded message. We are mercenaries, Commander. It is not uncommon for pirates to hunt down bounties.”

  “Maxtin expects us to hunt this guy down and bring him in?”

  “Based on the broadcasted consignment he has been comprised and we should extract him before he is eliminated by Mokarran authorities,” Australia reports.

  “Won’t he think we’re hunting the bounty and try and kill us?” Amye asks.

  “Commander, there are risks. Considering what the Admiral has tasked us to perform on secure transmissions, we must find out what he’s unable to transmit now.”

  “Lock in a course. Let’s get him out of there,” Reynard orders.

  “I don’t like this,” Kymberlynn whispers to Amye. “This guy will shoot at us just like any other bounty hunter. If he’s got stolen information for Maxtin, he won’t be taken alive.”

  “HAVE YOU BEEN monitoring the Summersun situation?” Kantian’s holographic image hums before Admiral Easter.

  “Keep your military maneuvers going. The Mokarran show no interest,” the vice-presidential admiral remarks.

  “I would take little interest in a single UCP battle cruiser in the next star system if there had been seventeen new Javelin class jumpships dropping off Lance after Lance of Mecat mercs on my planet.”

  “Jumpships were designed to convoy Mecats. Not an unremarkable tendency.”

  “Mercenaries only appear when there’s blood in the water.”

  Easter brushes off Kantian’s implication, “Mercs are consorts, not enlisted military. They go where and when they wish. If there is pay.”

  “Summersun’s the perfect staging point to invade the Nuri system. Even if I’ve calculated high on their number, I don’t have the fighters to prevent an incursion,” Kantian concludes why he’s assigned to perform military exercises this close to the border.

  “They have no reason to invade, and the Mokarran won’t pay conscripted mercenaries credits.”

  Kantian shares with Easter, “Several of those Merc Lances have been advanced credits just before arriving on Summersun.”

  “Are you sure?” she
questions.

  Kantian contemplates whether the Admiral knew or not. She plans for the protection of the UCP, so she must know someone has paid all these mercenaries to quarter on Summersun. “I have my own intelligence contingent.”

  “You do want my chair as ruler of the UCP.”

  He has to ask even though he knows she won’t answer. “Did you pay the Mercs to visit Summersun?”

  “No. I’ve no part in what transpires on the surface. My intelligence only offers a storm brewing. With it comes the opportunity to raise you into the spotlight as my successor. I haven’t spent my whole life dying for this Confederation to not have it continue past my death.”

  “This is about legacy?”

  “Don’t be so elementary. Stop the Mokarran at the gate and allow those who wish to immigrate to our Confederation to do so. The armistice has ended, and if you secure Summersun for the UCP, it will force the Mokarran to concede or invade. They’ll be unable to sustain a prolonged war on two fronts, so I’m gambling on them accepting new concessions, including a clause allowing any Tri-Star Federation planetary system to vote out Mokarran rule and join the UCP.”

  “The Mokarran would never allow any planetary system to simply vote to remove their rule.”

  “Vote is a relative term. We both know the process will take place at gunpoint.”

  With Summersun gone it will weaken steady food sources. Kantian now understands his importance to the VP-Admiral’s plans. “If I fail, you lose your linchpin.”

  “Nothing you do will be a failure in my plan. We’re locked in a war in which we will grab territory and weaken the Mokarran enough they will fall to the Throgen Empire. We do it on paper, or we do it by gun barrel.”

  Kantian continues to mull over his conversations with the Admiral. They have been replays of the same argument. Her impending death frees Easter of any concerns about the future. If her plan fails, she may be a blemish in UCP history. If the Mokarran win, she may not even rank a footnote.

  Their last conversation clears up many of his doubts. Now the real question for him becomes, does he act and invade Summersun, seizing control of the planet? His act of war will save millions only if it forces a treaty, and his swift action will draw attention to him and any political ambitions he pursues. If he wins. Gods know people love to vote in war heroes.

  Failure on Summersun will lead the UCP into a war and end with him possibly taking the rap as a rouge warmongering captain whose hatred of the Mokarran drove him to revenge. He wants them destroyed. Easter’s about establishing a new treaty, not grinding the Mokarran to dust. Even as a VP-admiral he needs the votes of the other four to invoke war. Difficult since Admiral Maxtin openly opposes it and Maxtin puppets the other three Admirals. No, if he is on the fast track to being a ruler of the UCP, he needs to coordinate his plans to eliminate the Tri-Star Federation. Waiting for planets to rise in revolution and cast off the Mokarran will cost more lives than invading and crushing them.

  If he commits to Easter’s plan, he commits to his own ambition to defeat the Mokarran and preparing for the future.

  He taps the commlink built into his desk, “Ensign. Request the Academy reports on this year’s graduating cadets.”

  “All of them, Sir?” The voice crackles back.

  “Yes, but I want all those belonging to any Hardaren first. This will be the first semester any of their species will graduate. If there are any outstanding members, I want them in my crew.” Kantian releases the comm button.

  No, what I want is the ones sworn to avenge their decimated planet. The Mokarran drove them nearly to extinction, and now the Harderans want revenge. They’re tactful about it. They enrolled the maximum number of candidates in the Academy. Then enlisted even more as soldiers. He read a report that more Harderans received promotion, including several to warrant officers, and have since applied to officer candidate school than any other species since they joined the UCP. Regular military branches don’t have the stringent regulation of a certain number of qualified candidates from each member species like the Academy does. Harderans will climb the UCP military ranks and use their numbers to press for invasion of the Tri-Star Federation. They are not alone. Many in the UCP want to destroy the Mokarran for what they have done gaining support for war.

  He depresses the comm button. “Ensign. Get Sergeant Yaren.”

  “Immediately, Captain,” the voice crackles back.

  Within two minutes the door chime to his private office sounds.

  “Enter.”

  Sergeant Yaren presents himself before Kantian in a disheveled uniform. The shirttails jammed into his pants and his five o’clock shadow scream that he was clearly unable to get dressed correctly before he reached the door.

  “You’re out of uniform.”

  “I wasn’t on the duty roster, Sir.”

  “Then proper casual attire would be more presentable. Instead, you’re in a disgraceful mess of a uniform.”

  “It’s not every day I get summoned to the Captain’s personal office.”

  “Your records show a lot of…” Kantian searches for the word. “Let’s say…insubordination.”

  “Would be a step up, Sir,” he smirks.

  “I read your file. I know everyone assigned in this crew.”

  “You did request me when most officers would have booted me from the service.”

  “What would you do if you were ousted from service?”

  “I’m a soldier with no home to return to—mercenary work. Plenty to go around, Sir.”

  “You have enough saved to stake a Mecat?”

  “I never was good with money, Sir.”

  “Yaren, I need information. I need eyes on Summersun.”

  “In Tri-Star Federation space, Sir. Sending a UCP soldier there would be considered an act of war.”

  “I’m dishonorably discharging you, Sergeant.”

  “Sir?”

  “I’ve submitted the paperwork, and you’re no longer a UCP soldier. You’ll find a severance package transferred into your credit account. It should be enough to buy a small Mecat.”

  “With all due respect, if I’m discharged, it’s my money to spend on what I want.”

  “It’s not your money. You grew up a street rat and you’ve been a problem soldier. How many times have you been promoted to Sergeant after being demoted for your insubordination?”

  “More times than I can count, but I’ve been good on this ship, Sir.”

  “This is a covert mission. I need intelligence.”

  “What am I supposed to uncover? My record will only get me so far. It takes years to get merc groups to let you into their circle. If you survive.”

  “I don’t think I need you to go deep undercover. Discover why so many mercs are gathering on Summersun and who they expect to pay.”

  “I’ll do my duty, Sir.”

  “I hear a condition in your voice.”

  “You do, Sir. I do this, what’s in it for me? It goes above the standard risk the UCP expects of its soldiers, and it’s an illegal order.”

  “Let’s make it simple. What reward do you want, Sergeant?”

  “I’ll never be an officer. I don’t want to be, but I was a Sergeant and lost it. I get it. You don’t go around punching Lieutenants. I want my Sergeant’s pay and retirement credits for all this time as if I’ve always been a Sergeant.”

  “I expected you to ask for something a lot less reasonable.”

  “You grant me a real honorable discharge. I just want to be a soldier. Maybe get to shoot some Mokarran.”

  “A request I will grant you…one day.”

  THE MAIN VIEW screen displays a craggy boulder floating in space. The Dragon draws closer to the spinning rock.

  “A thin breathable atmosphere,” Australia reports.

  “Not hardly. It’d be like breathing through a straw while gargling,” Amye clarifies.

  “We’ve breathers, what was this place?” Reynard asks.

  “You don’t want to
go there,” Ki-Ton’s somber tone resonates through an emotionless warning. “It is a lawless outpost under no planetary or governmental alliance.”

  “You just stepped on a Throgen world. This anarchistic planet should be a stroll in the park.”

  “We can’t be afraid to go into lawless territories if we aren’t afraid to break the laws in Tri-Star Federation space.”

  “It was a mining operation,” Amye answers her captain.

  “IMC?”

  “No,” Amye says.

  “How do you know it’s not an IMC outpost? They always just abandon mining facilities after they’re done.”

  “There’s no profit in tearing them down on asteroids or dead world. It appears freelance, or even pirates. They carved out whatever vein of mineral they wanted until it became unprofitable to dig and left.” Amye spent too many years studying mining and IMC policies to not understand. “There’re large traces of the mineral KHG-17. This rock belongs to no planetary system. The IMC would crush the asteroid to dust on refinement cruisers. I know; I grew up on one of their colonies.”

  “The place has a nuclear core battery. So it has lights and an air circulating system. The KHG-17 fragments mask all life readings.”

  “So it’s a good place to hide, but not for long. There’s no place to go. Aus, does Maxtin have an extraction plan for this guy?”

  “There is no response from the communication I sent to the Admiral. I know of contingency plans for when he leaves UCP space. The details of those plans are known to only a select few agents.”

  “Trusted for nine years?”

  “You know the dangers you face with the Mokarran. What’s on this rock you’ve never experienced before, Commander,” Ki-Ton assures them.

  “Just about every day is something I’ve never experienced before. We’ve got to find out why Admiral Maxtin activated the bounty.”