“Yeah, she’s been like this the whole time. I can’t understand a blasted thing she says,” Jakes replied as Lee stepped around Eli to get a better look at the table. “It’s all just numbers to me.”
“It’s not just numbers, Connor,” Melaina replied, looking up with wide eyes at Lee as he stepped near. “It’s explanations of space I’ve never even heard of. There are calculations here that explain the substance of M-space.”
“What does this have to do with the Raoists?” Lee asked.
“Nothin’ … as far as we know,” Connor answered. “We thought we would wait for you to open those files. Melaina here just couldn’t resist takin’ a look at the pretty hologram.”
“You,” Lee said, moving around the table and approaching the skinny little man in the chair. “What is this thing? How does it connect to the Raoist movement and the explosion on Vadne?”
“Please … please, I was just following orders,” McGraw replied, shrinking even further into his chair. “I don’t really know anything.”
“Whose orders, Preston? Who is in charge of the Raoists?”
“You don’t understand. Admiral Chang sent me there. It’s what I told the other people. Admiral Chang sent me to the meeting. I didn’t want to go but he made me.”
Without warning, Lee slapped the man. Alice let out a sharp cry as Eli tried to move closer. Connor put a restraining hand on the big man, waiting to see what would happen next.
“Tell me the truth!” Lee yelled. “Or I swear to gods I will strap you down and have my doctor take what I want to know.”
“No!” McGraw cried, holding his arms up. “You can’t do this! It’s against Alliance regulations to strike a prisoner!”
“Do I look like I care about Alliance regulations right now?” Lee replied, holding up another hand. “Everyone on this ship is wanted by the Alliance for treason. What’s another charge?”
McGraw looked up now, seeing the fire in Lee’s eyes. The man was a former slave who had been rescued by Lee in a brutal raid a few years ago. He had seen the depths to which Lee would go to free slaves. If he was angry, and that anger was directed at another human, there was no end to the torments he could lay on him. For a moment, the man stared back at the captain in a hospital gown.
“I am telling you the truth, Captain,” Preston replied in a firm tone. “Admiral Chang ordered me to go to the Raoists meeting in Mongolia. I told the Alliance this. They believed me.”
“You lie!” Lee said, raising the hand high.
“Lee!” Alice cried. “Lee, no!”
“Stop it, Cap’n,” Jakes said, stepping up and putting a hand on Lee’s arm. “He’s tellin’ the truth.”
“I refuse to believe it,” Lee said, dropping the hand and pressing Jakes back. “Ron is a lot of things, but he is not a traitor and he wouldn’t have allied himself with anything having to do with the Raoists.”
“You’re right,” McGraw said, uncurling from the chair. “He wasn’t an ally. He sent me to gather information.”
“Information?” Lee asked, turning back to McGraw. “What kind of information?”
“The same kind you are looking for. I was trying to find out who was behind them. He wanted me to gather as much intelligence as I could. I’ve been going to those meetings for the last several months. Longer even than you know.”
“So the admiral is innocent?” Lee said, looking around the room. “Why didn’t the Alliance let him go?”
“Because he didn’t tell them,” McGraw replied, looking to the floor. “I was ordered not to tell them either and I haven’t. Some of us obey our orders.”
“Don’t push me, Preston,” Lee replied, throwing a look back to the little man. “Why wouldn’t he want the Alliance to know about this? If it was just intelligence gathering, why all the secrecy? Why doesn’t Alliance Security already know?”
“Chang was working with someone in Security. Someone deep, but I don’t know who. He was trying to keep this to himself. I wasn’t the only person sent out, either. He had other operatives sent to Vadne, and even Tonal. I don’t know who, but I was funneling the money for him.”
“Wait,” Jakes said. “Chang was sendin’ spies out to the allies? That don’t make sense. Who was he workin’ with?”
“I don’t know. They had code names. It’s all in the encrypted files,” McGraw said, shaking his head. “Hand me a data pad with decryption access.”
Melaina held up the data pad she had been working with. Alice took the device and wiped the screen clear. She tapped a new series of commands and drew up the encrypted files. The device had a small plate embedded on the base for DNA sampling. She handed the pad to McGraw, who swiped his finger and began tapping keys.
“You tried to decode this, didn’t you?” he asked, shaking his head. “You mangled the data files. I don’t know if it will all still be here.”
A long string of numbers began to scroll from top to bottom. McGraw continued to tap keys as some of the numbers resolved to lettering. After a few minutes, most of the scrolling numbers had solidified into letters and words. Some of the words appeared to have missing spaces where numbers continued to scroll. There was enough, however, to read the majority of the file headings.
“This is all the data we collected on the Raoists,” Preston said, pointing to a file marked “Bunny.” Connor let out a sharp crack of laughter at the file name, but quieted down. McGraw opened the file and reams of data began to scroll down. He paused the stream and pulled up a series of fiscal transaction coded to him.
“This is where I distributed the money,” McGraw explained. “These files are encrypted further, so I’ll need to project this and use your main computer. Also, you may want to get a towel. Does anyone have a sharp knife?”
Around the table, the group looked to each other. Melaina began tapping keys into the table to partition off a portion of the main computer’s memory. Alice moved to the wall panel and called for Farthing to bring some towels to the conference room, and to fetch the doctor. Eli Mendel pulled a long, thin blade from a concealed sheath at his hip. He looked at Preston before tossing the knife casually at him. Preston ducked just as the knife flew through the space his where head had been. The knife stuck in the chair back, vibrating slightly in the thick artificial wood.
“I missed,” Eli said to Jakes. “Sorry.”
Farthing came in a moment later, carrying a small towel from the bridge head and a handheld comm unit. He handed the towel to Pearce as he stared at his hospital gown. Lee smiled, slightly embarrassed by his covering, before handing the towel to McGraw. The man pulled the knife from the chair and laid it on the towel. He tapped keys on the table, transferring the encrypted files from the pad to main computer. A moment later, Doctor Demsiri entered the room and looked around.
“Welcome to the party,” Connor said, pointing to McGraw. “He’s about to show us a magic trick.”
Preston looked to the doctor before taking the knife. He held his head over the towel and opened his mouth. As they watched, he pushed the knife into his mouth, lodged it under a back molar, and twisted. Despite the gush of blood, Preston did not cry out. Instead, he dropped the knife and reached in, pulling the tooth from his mouth. He took the towel and wiped the tooth dry. After this he set the tooth on the table and brought the towel to his own mouth. Demsiri stepped closer, but he waved the doctor off. After wiping the blood away, he took up the knife again and pried away at the bottom of the molar. One of the three roots of the tooth came off and Preston took the tiny piece and set it on the data pad DNA reader panel.
“That does it,” McGraw said. “Here we are.”
As McGraw wiped more blood from the corner of his mouth, a new stream of data began to fall away on the table. He tapped new keys and the data resolved into further transactions. He reached into the hologram and spread his fingers, expanding one string of data further. After a new round of tapping, the data solidified into a text file. There were three names on the file they could easi
ly read.
Raoists – Speedy
Ixloab – Petunia
Barathists – Sylvester
“Who the hell is Speedy?” Connor asked after a long moment.
“That’s me,” Preston replied, looking sheepish. “He named each of his operatives after characters from some old entertainment reel. It was quite embarrassing. He thought of me as a mouse and I talk fast so—”
“Speedy Gonzales?” Lee said with a smile. “I’ll be damned. I showed him that video. What about the rest? Who are the Ixloab or Barathists?”
“The Barathists are a separatist group of my own people,” Farthing replied, looking carefully at the file heading. “They believe Vadne should expand as more of a peaceful empire. They believe our people should have taken a more passive approach and let humans fall. With Terrans out of the way, the Barathists believed they could have negotiated with the Ch’Tauk and accepted that race as an extension of our own territory. In a way, they believe in a Vadne-first policy, like your Raoists believe in your race as superior.”
“And the Ixloab?” Lee asked Preston. “Are they an isolationist group too?”
“Not really,” McGraw replied. “They’re more like religious zealots. They believe in bringing the word of the Tonal gods to the galaxy, and aren’t above small acts of terror to convince the heathens.”
“Captain,” Farthing interrupted. “We’re coming out of M-space.”
“Thanks,” Lee replied before turning back to McGraw. “So we have three groups who each believe in the superiority of their own race, each one being investigated by Admiral Chang and someone from Alliance Security. One of these groups or all of them could have been responsible for the attack on Vadne.”
“To what end?” Alice asked, feeling the shudder of the ship as it translated into normal space. “If they were trying to disrupt the peace process, then they succeeded, but only for a short time. The chancellor has already rescheduled a resumption of the talks on Earth.”
“I don’t know. Maybe they were trying to get attention,” Lee replied.
“There’s another file here,” Melaina said. “Buried in the data stream. I think I can work the encryption if Preston can help.”
“There shouldn’t be anything deeper,” McGraw replied, opening the hidden file with a wave of his hand. The file stream continued scrolling as both he and the M-space theorist worked to decode. After several long moments, only a file name appeared.
Bugs.
“The Ch’Tauk?” Alice said, a hint of fear entering her voice. “I thought they went back home. I thought the Elves were taking care of that.”
“I don’t think so,” Lee replied, stepping closer to her. “I think it’s another code name. I think Chang knew who was behind the finances of all three of these groups. Bugs is the guy in charge.”
“That would make sense,” Preston replied. “I hadn’t heard the admiral speak of the Ch’Tauk in a while, and suddenly he began to refer to them as bugs. He wasn’t in the habit of speaking in slang, but I thought he was tired.”
“Every step we take gets us in deeper,” Connor said. “Now we gotta find out who this guy is, too?”
“Right now we need to get you back home, Connor,” Lee said, turning to the pirate. “I’m sorry, Connor. Thank you for everything you’ve done for us.”
“Well, you owe me one,” Jakes said. “But I’m not sure I wanna go back just yet. I’m curious now.”
“No, you’ve done enough. I can’t drag you into this any further,” Lee replied. “We’ll get the shuttle prepped and—”
The deck beneath their feet seemed to buck as an explosion of noise ripped through the conference room. Lee was tossed into the table with McGraw. Alice was flung into the far wall as everyone struggled to hold their feet. The lights flickered as the power was routed to the defensive systems automatically.
“Captain,” Farthing shouted over the sound of metal twisting. “We’re under attack!”
“Ya think?” Connor Jakes replied. “What tipped you off?”
“Report!” Lee shouted, levering himself off the smaller Mcgraw. “Who attacked us?”
“I don’t know, Captain,” Farthing said. “We’ve gone to tactical alert and the bridge requests your presence.”
“It looks like you win, Connor,” Lee said, heading to the door. “You’re staying a little while longer.”
“Just like old times,” replied the pirate with a grin. “People shootin’ at you again? Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
9
The bridge was in motion as Lee and Farthing took their posts. With a sideways glance, Lee noted the octopod had yet to change from the gray security uniform to a navy blue jumpsuit. With his hospital gown flapping behind him, he hoped whoever was attacking didn’t send a visual hailing message. The lack of military decorum would ruin any authority he might have.
“Status?” Lee barked.
“Two Estes class escorts to port,” replied the octopod through his vocoder. “Four fighters. The fighters are a mismatch of old confederation and … junk.”
“Have the Demons launch for cover,” Lee ordered, settling into his chair and calling up a holographic display. “Damage?”
“Minor damage to the starboard armor. They caught us with our pants off,” Josh replied with a quick grin. “Shields are in place and holding. Booth is gonna kill somebody when he sees the paint got nicked.”
Roy Booth was the ship’s engineer. The man was unstable in the best of times and downright dangerous if his ship was damaged. Lee made a mental note to check the damage personally before Booth asked. Like many engineers, Roy Booth believed the captain and crew of a ship were less important than the ship itself, and reported to him. In their present circumstance, Lee believed he might be right.
“Get us into firing position and open launch bays when Jackal signals ready.”
“Understood, sir,” Josh replied.
The battleship was larger than either of the two opponents, but slower. Estes class escort frigates were slightly larger than cargo shuttles, but heavily armored and armed with plasma cannons and torpedoes. Turning Resolute to expose her flanks would allow the gun ports to open and take aim. In a strange way, the battle reminded Lee of his time at the academy. Both ship classes had long since been discontinued, but had been built to engage in slow-motion battles and take more damage compared to the fast moving ships of the modern fleet.
“Demons away,” Farthing reported. “We should be in firing position in ten seconds.”
“Alert gun crews. I want alternating fire. Designate targets one and two, port and starboard respectively,” Lee ordered, calling up a tactical area report. “Use the forward guns to take out the fighters if they get close.”
“Aye, sir.”
Lee watched as his own fighters streaked into the battle. Jackal was a cool commander in flight, and the team was flying in tight formation straight at the enemy. At just outside optimal firing range for the modified ships, the formation split, two going high and two going low. Each ship then split off and went straight for an opposing fighter. The maneuver took advantage of the Eagle’s faster speed and greater mobility, surprising the enemy with three-dimensional targets instead of a flat battle plane. As the first lines of plasma fire erupted from Jackal’s cannons, Lee looked back to his own position.
“Commander, signal Jackal to take at least one of those pilots alive,” Lee called to Farthing. “Have we tried hailing these guys?”
“Affirmative, sir,” the felinoid replied crisply. “Here’s what we get back.”
A guttural series of grunts and smacks echoed over the speaker. There were pauses in the speech pattern which indicated definite sentences, but Lee had never heard the language before. He turned to look at Farthing for clarification.
“It’s Tonal,” the commander answered. “Ancient Tonal, I am running a translation protocol now. It’ll take a second.”
“Where did they come from?” Lee asked. “Did they get
our transponder signal?”
“They were waiting when we came out of M-space,” Josh replied. “We have a firing solution on the escorts.”
“Signal that ship again, Farthing,” Lee ordered. “Warn them off.”
“I have been doing that, Captain,” Farthing replied, concentrating on his panel and the translation. “All I get is that poetry.”
“Poetry?” Lee asked, turning in his seat. “I haven’t got time for jokes, commander. What’s he saying??”
“It’s no joke, sir. As near as I can figure, it’s Tonal ancient poetry. Not very good either. Poetry should rhyme.”
A thud of sound interrupted the discussion as the escorts fired on the battleship. He glanced back to his holographic display to see minimal damage to their shields. Quickly calculating yields and firepower, he saw the ships would have little chance against his own. He looked out the large display to see the view from the gun ports. The escorts were in good condition but outmatched. The situation was not ideal, but he needed to make the decision.
“Open fire,” he ordered. “Target one to disable. Lay down suppression on two. Let’s see if we can make one of them think about their decisions.”
Resolute’s plasma cannons opened up on the opposing ships. Designed for close combat and picket defense, the plasma cannons faced out along either side of the ship. Gun crews kept the massive weapons from overheating and took care of targeting manually. In a staggered configuration, the ports began firing plasma bursts across space. Every other port fired at the nearest ship designated One. The other half fired lower-powered blasts, preventing the ship designated Two from acquiring a good target lock.
The first Estes class ship tried to turn away from the fire, presenting its own heavily armored flank to the battleship. The blue crackle of plasma against shielding showed the ships had been upgraded beyond their original design. One accelerated quickly, outpacing the plasma fire. Two began to fire through the barrage of plasma, firing blindly into oncoming fire.
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