by Chris Hechtl
“I do so like how loose ends are tidied up so handily,” Miss Persephone said smugly. She reminisced of how some of her clients had paid to remove people from time to time. She'd doubled down, making a killing so to speak by selling the recordings as snuff films. It was a small but lucrative market, and she knew her clients wouldn't let such dark secrets out of the closet.
Why, she'd even had a man commit suicide in a thrill kill. He'd been a hell of a masochist, and one of her best clients at the time. He'd paid her to slowly strangle him while having sex. He'd probably expected her to stop, but she hadn't since he'd paid in advance, and so handsomely too. Her only regret was that he hadn't lasted long enough for her. Ten hours of fun wasn't long enough when she loved to savor every last minute of it.
“Well, she knew better than to stay here. It was quite handy for her payment to be a ticket out of the system. That made her demise happen outside the system,” Madra smirked. “Or close enough,” he said, voice lilting with mirth.
“Are we quite sure it will be handle ...discretely?” Robert Dean asked. He felt soiled working with these people, but he didn't have any choice. Once in there was only one way out. He had no intention of becoming Miss Persephone's next victim.
“Of course. No one will bother to care about her,” Lake said smugly. “Garbage in, garbage out. She's already yesterday's news with the fleet showing up.”
Nelson overheard them and overheard the nasty chuckle the group shared. He shook his head and suppressed a shiver. He vowed not to be a loose end. But if he was ever threatened, or hell, killed, he was glad there was insurance set up to take the Governor down just in case. Not that the Governor had a hand in that little debacle. He had been kept in the dark by his allies in order to make his surprise and dismay look genuine. He hadn't been able to hide his glee or delight, but that had been expected.
Governor Walker snorted, and then saluted Miss Persephone with his champagne glass. “To the sparrow's fall,” he said.
She smiled politely and returned the toast. “And to your victory, sir,” she said. “May it ever be sweet,” she said.
“Oh most definitely it will be,” Walker laughed.
Madra stilled but said nothing, just smiled ever so slightly as Walker took his bow. It was annoying that he was now taking credit for the dicey job and the clean-up involved. Even if he wasn't doing so publicly, it was still annoying to witness. He looked over to Edever. The man shook his head slightly.
“Well then, how do we deal with this...mess?” Madra said. He wasn't happy about how things had gone in B101a1. But then, none could have predicted Firefly's untimely arrival, nor the Admiral's invention. Honestly! The gods must have really had a laugh over that one, he mused.
“Let's not spoil this victory so soon,” Walker said, waving an expansive hand. Madra cocked his head and frowned slightly. Obviously the Governor wasn't done patting himself on the back. “Besides, as we've painfully learned, it doesn't pay to directly interfere with the Navy or that bastard Logan.”
“Can we do something about that?” Dean asked. He was salivating about getting his hands on the Yard. He'd love to have that sort of industry. His company had set up a small yard, tiny with just the one slip. Eventual control of the Yard was his piece of the pie.
“One thing at a time. The direct approach with Logan is out. We tried our best and that failed miserably. In fact,” Madra turned a look on Lake and Dean, “each of you have tried as well on separate occasions, with that disastrous shuttle accident and the other one a short time ago” He tut tuted, shaking his head mournfully, “sloppy gentlemen.”
“I thought we'd had him,” Lake growled darkly.
“Your best wasn't good enough,” Walker said. “And you are leaving a trail of breadcrumbs right to your own door gentlemen. I can steer the justice department, and use them to...clean up any untidy witnesses or loose evidence from time to time, but...”
“Each time you do you leave additional breadcrumbs,” Edever said. “We can't be directly involved, of course, which means cut outs. And when we dispose of someone who is inconvenient, well, then we run the risk of recruiting someone else while the other person's...disappearance is questioned. It has to stop.”
“There is professional, and then there is sloppy. You did mention the best,” Miss Persephone said, uncrossing her legs. “That's why I'm here. You may have thought Jet was the best; he wasn't. And eventually gentlemen, I'll show you why,” she said with a cat-like smile. “After all, I am the Reaper aren't I?”
---( | ) --- ( | )---
Despite what they'd thought was careful preparation, the military crews found the bureaucrats hadn't been impressed. Of course the crews had taken a light hand to the various paperwork chores, being light handed. That wasn't an acceptable excuse to the paper pushers. Forms flew in a blizzard. Debriefs of the crew and Marines kept going, seemingly endless.
“And just think, once we get through this, then we've got the media and then our own families to deal with this,” a rating said, thoroughly disgusted.
“They have to get up to speed. I think half of them don't believe what really happened. At least it sounds that way. Like we'd lie about it? Or the computers? It's like a vast conspiracy to them,” Spencer said, also disgusted.
“You gotta love it. We're going around in circles, over and over,” Shelby said, shaking her head as she patted Spencer on the shoulder. He looked up to her and nodded. “When they can't think of something new to ask about, you know they are either winding down or winding up to a new topic.”
“By that time I'll be talked to death,” Janice growled.
“Talk yourself hoarse you mean. I love how they can ask the same question a million times in a million different ways. Like one answer wasn't good enough.”
“They have to see if we've thought of something we forgot to mention. Even senses could be important. And besides, you know a debrief is to blow off steam too.”
“You mean build it up. I've got a lot of people champing at the bit to get their leave time started. Hell, I'm surprised the hotels and casinos haven't filed protests yet!” the XO said. Renee laughed.
---( | ) --- ( | )---
Purple Thorn ran into her cousin Purple Blossom who had signed on as a Navy reservist. They laughed about how the two were constantly mixed up by other races. “They think we're alike.”
“And we have trouble telling them apart!”
“Well, not by species at least. But well...”
“I know. So, how about we hop on over to the local elf bar and catch up?”
“Sounds good to me! You're buying!”
Purple Blossom eyed her cousin with mock disfavor before she nodded. “The first round, since you've earned it. Second too, but third is on you!”
---( | ) --- ( | )---
Renee wasn't too surprised that she didn't get any of her officers back. The Veraxin jig Rator'll would remain as Captain of the frigate Jumping Jack even though the ship would be in dock for a month or so. She wasn't so sure about that decision. The bug was good but he needed more seasoning. Obviously it wasn't up to her though, but she did note someone in Bupers hadn't let him keep the frock to Lieutenant. From what she'd heard, the frigate would go through some trials after she returned to service. She'd replace one of the frigates here in the system while the more experienced ship and crew moved on to another system to guard.
Chief Chowler had wanted to come back, but the reactivation of the Yard had nixed that. He had been transferred to a Yard posting for the time being. Since Firefly herself was laid up for the next two weeks, that was aggravating. They had no chief engineer to oversee the repairs, and most of the assistants had been transferred off. Jig Sampson returned briefly, but promotion orders came through a day later bumping him up to Lieutenant's rank, along with a transfer to Xavier as her XO.
Tr'j'ck was now a jig, and although he'd lost command of Oasis once she'd docked, he had moved on to be promoted to senior tactical officer on Xavier. Oasis was
still in dock. The media had had a field day with the ship; some like Knox had poured all over the ship and broadcast all the horrid details. Other news outlets had put a blackout on the subject because of the sensitive nature of the victims.
Frankly, Renee thought showing people what they had gone through would, yes, generate pity for them, but also a measure of respect for surviving it.
There was a group of investors underway bidding to restore the ship. They had attempted to purchase the ship from Governor Walker, who had for some reason, wisely pointed them to the Navy. She wasn't certain what Horatio had planned to do with the ship, but he'd obviously seen the good press in selling her off to be restored and returned to service so the staff was entertaining the idea. At least publicly.
Doctor Standish put in for some time off, but he made it clear he wanted to be back on Firefly when she went on her next adventure. The scuttlebutt grapevine said he'd gone off with one of his nurses to disappear in a hotel. Renee was a bit envious but wished them well.
Lieutenant Commander Nata'roka had been promoted to Commander and then transferred off Firefly, destined for the San Diego habitat. She'd burned up the communication lines to Doctor Thornby and her male counterpart on San Diego. Apparently she was rather eager to make babies, Renee thought with a small smile. Good for her. She wished them all the luck in the universe; they'd need it.
All of her midshipman passed their final tests with flying colors; having an AI tutor them and manning bridge watches had helped settle them down. Ensign Darion would be returning as a junior navigational officer under Janice. Renee rubbed her chin. She was fairly certain they wouldn't have Darion long; the kid knew his stuff forwards and back.
The personnel she'd frocked to acting Ensigns and sprinkled across the fleet had transferred to the academy in San Diego once Firefly had docked. She wished them all well. She would have loved to have kept her hands on a couple of them, like Janice's other understudy, the chimeran girl. She'd been fantastic at the helm, right up there with her top three despite her young age and lack of advanced implants. Winter had been a shy PO, but frocking her to Ensign had been the kick she'd needed. She was now looking forward to college and the advanced navigator course.
---( | ) --- ( | )---
Ensign Esh'z marched himself off the shuttle and to the intel shop. He'd wanted to stay with the prisoners to debrief his incoming replacement but had been denied. That had vexed him, so he'd found another outlet. He needed to get his boss on board with what he'd found. He knew it was important, possibly vital.
“It's an interesting new lead, Ensign,” Monty said, nodding to the Veraxin.
“Sir, I think it is very important.”
Monty frowned thoughtfully. He'd had plenty of time to read the extracts the Veraxin had sent ahead of himself as well as the extracts from Captain Mayweather and Firefly. There was a lot of new ground to cover, petabytes of intel to sift through. One code string didn't stand out enough to him, not when they had more concrete things.
“Sir, we must give this a priority. This El Dorado alludes to something, a place. An important place, a game-changing place. I don't like the sound of that,” the Veraxin said. “We must find out what it is and put an end to it or find a counter.”
“If we take the allusion at face value. Hell, could they mean Pyrax? Or Antigua? Could El Dorado be their codeword for us?” Monty mused. He looked at Lieutenant Teague's image. She unfortunately wasn't there in the room; she'd hopped the first flight out to be in on the new prisoners as they were settled into their new home. He'd been amused when she'd demanded copies of the Veraxin's raw debrief files and videos, like her shuttle could have handled the data stream! He snorted mentally and shook his head. He'd wanted her here to listen in but for the most part her participation was useless. The time lag was nearly two minutes one way.
“I'm not...that doesn't sound right, sir. They didn't want us to know it,” the Veraxin clacked stubbornly. He shifted, still feeling uncomfortable. His joints had mostly healed, but he was looking forward to a thorough check by the medics.
“True,” Monty replied, looking uncomfortably at the Veraxin's missing eye stalk and then away.
“Sir, what do we do?”
“Well, we find out what it is, if it is anything at all,” Monty said.
“They are balking at all my techniques, sir,” the Veraxin reminded him. He'd gotten precious little for the remainder of the voyage. They hadn't lost any additional prisoners but not for a want of trying. Ten had gone on hunger strikes. They'd been strapped to beds in the infirmary and given intravenous fluid until they'd changed their minds.
Monty frowned thoughtfully. He knew the Veraxin by reputation. He was a Marine, and his technique was as subtle as a buzz saw, which was pretty much the Marine creed. Frontal attack, if you don't break it once, you're not using a big enough hammer. Subtly wasn't in their handbook.
“Well then, we'll have to try others. I've got your list of suspects who may have information on this El Dorado. I'll place them in segregate them in separate wings of the prison colony. We'll put a few undercover agents in with them and see if they can pick any chatter up.”
“Sir, if they even mention it they are liable to be killed. The Horathians are killing their own,” the Veraxin warned.
“Then they will have to be careful about how they probe. Gaining their confidence alone will take time. Our people are experts now or as close as they can be. Besides, they have implants,” Monty replied. He knew it was brutal, but they had to risk it if it led to viable intelligence.
“Sir, I had implants, and I barely survived a concentrated attack,” the Veraxin reminded him.
“They know the risks. They have the training. As I said, they will have to be careful. Every square centimeter of the colony is wired. The Horathians don't know it, but we've wired them as well. We're monitoring everything they say and do. We'll get to the bottom of this mystery. It's just a matter of when. It'll take some time, but eventually someone will slip up. We'll get it. Mark my words.”
“Aye aye, Sir. I guess we will,” the Veraxin clacked uncertainly.
Chapter 23
News of the battle and the Admiral was gripping, arresting the attention of the viewers heartily sick of politics and political coverage. The sewage involved had been quite deep, and some had missed the news about Firefly for a day or so before friends had clued them in.
The announcement of the battle and the Admiral's actions in it had been almost anticlimactic. It had been a coup for those media outlets who had broadcast the leak. Some were Walker's supporters.
Video of the new ships was shown on the media as they entered the docks to be rebuilt. The cruise liner was toured; it's nature explored. Many were horrified by the Horathians and the sadism they exhibited.
Excitement boiled over in every colony though, undampered by the close call. If anything, the near invasion and timely double rescue had fired people up more. Some rumors spread wildly of the Admiral's return, either in secret or not. Captain Logan was surprised by his promotion but worried about the others. He called a press conference to set the record straight.
He took the podium and nodded to April and the others in the front row. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said trying hard not to wince as the babble of voices quieted down to the snaps of camera and whir of remotes. Security had checked everything over, but he knew something could have been missed. He'd have to make this short.
“As you know, approximately four months ago Firefly jumped to Beta 101a1 in a reconnaissance raid. We had intelligence of a pending Horathian attack on this system. As some of you also know, when she arrived a battle was already underway. Firefly participated in the battle, helping turn the tide in our favor.” he said, hand over his heart.
“Admiral Irons was behind the attack, using a captured Arboth class destroyer named Bounty along with several other ships and a scratch crew of former slaves. They fought valiantly but were nearly overwhelmed. Their purpose was to shatter
the enemy force and then come here. They succeeded in shattering the pirate fleet but were nearly destroyed by her flagship, a Newmann class Battlecruiser.”
There was a slight gasp. Logan ignored it, placing both hands on the podium. “Firefly helped turn the tide. They and her Marines and the soldiers and sailors with Admiral Irons captured the fleet. Together they rescued over twelve hundred slaves from the clutches of the pirates. They did their best to rebuild the ships and then the fleet split, with Firefly leading one group home.”
He turned stern for a moment. “Admiral Irons took his own forces north to relieve forces he'd left behind rescuing the system of Hoshi's World. He's going further on to relieve the planets the pirates had invaded. He is not here; he isn't coming here.”
There was some muttering and a half-hearted question. Logan sternly looked out over the crowd and then continued. “You will all have an FAQ and detailed brief, along with video coverage of the battle and aftermath shortly, if your outlets don't have it already,” he said frowning off to his left where the public affairs officer stood. The woman nodded, one hand on her cheek. He nodded slightly back.
“As some of you have speculated, yes, Admiral Irons sent along material for us to reactivate the Yard. We are doing so now. We've also been shook up a bit, or at least I have,” he said pointing to the new rank insignia he had on. “Yes, I've been promoted to Captain J.G. No, it's not a scam or something; this all really happened. Now, I'll take some pertinent questions, at least a few of them; then I've got work to do.” Almost every hand in the room was raised. He sighed internally. “Starting with you,” he pointed to a woman near the back.
She rose as her hand dropped and then cleared her throat. “Sir, you said Admiral Irons isn't here. Is he ever going to return?”