Monty conferred with his wives. After a minute he returned his attention to Steg. “We agree. We’ll set cameras up for you, covering exits and work areas. It’ll take an hour. There are two access locks. One is in the shuttle bay where the water valves are located, and there’s one here, adjacent to the glass wall. We’ll use the bay lock to surrender our materials, including weapons and explosives. Is that acceptable?”
“Yes. In one hour, we want to see camera links in place. Also, in one hour you should have completed moving everything I requested into the shuttle bay lock.” Steg instructed Iwao to end the connection.
Dean asked Steg, his expression quizzical. “Do you trust him?”
“No, not at all.”
“Good. There are two other locks, which he didn’t mention, both accessing internal areas of Wasp. I daresay he thought you wouldn’t know about them.”
“I suspected he was hiding something; it was far too easy. He’ll retain enough equipment and weapons to support whatever he’s planning. However, for the moment, we’ll play fair. Kirby, instruct your men to stop draining the tank. Leave the bladder in place so they can recommence if necessary. Work with Dean to guard the access points including those Monty didn’t mention. You’ll need some fast response teams; go for maximum flexibility. I expect we’ll see some attempt to break out later today, either at shift change or late tonight, possibly after midnight. Identify paths between Monty’s exit locks and the shuttle bays. I think we can block their access to the bridge, leaving them the alternative of using a shuttle for their escape. Plan on allowing them to take a route to a shuttle that is not a primary craft—it may end up being destroyed.”
“Agreed. We can funnel them in almost any direction. Can’t make it too easy for them, though; it would raise their suspicions,” Dean said.
“Yes, their exit will require careful stage managing. They’ll possibly try to take hostages, to prevent us destroying them when their shuttle leaves the starship.”
“Sir?” The interruption came from the communications expert.
“Yes, Iwao?”
“If I had a few hundred tons of water and suitable equipment, I’d start using the water to produce an explosive mixture of gases.”
“Hmm. Dean, Kirby, assume Monty has weapons grade explosives in either solid or gaseous form. There are gas detectors throughout the ship—make sure they have hydrogen in their detection spectrum. Check if Engineering has reduced the power supply to the aliens’ habitat; they should be providing only enough for internal lighting. When they depart, we might have to pump the air in their habitat out to space, in case they leave an explosive mixture booby-trapped for us.”
Kirby said, “I’ll get the bladder team thinking about how they would clean up—they’re good engineers.”
“Good. I’m going to the main bridge. I plan to be back after lunch.” He had not heard from the commander about the contents of the message the Xesset had sent to Monty.
“Oh, good, I was about to page you,” Gillespie said when Steg entered the bridge. “We’ve been checking the message header and metadata to ensure its accuracy. The contents are interesting—damning, actually.”
“What have you found?”
“The Xesset are protesting because they haven’t heard from Monty on schedule. They’re wittering on about his lack of communication. The message also confirmed their route; they listed the way stations they’re planning to use, which is excellent detail for us. We can use their course data to determine our tactics.”
“Excellent. I suppose we’d better prepare a message to send back from Monty. Do you have enough information to produce a suitable reply?”
“Yes, I think so. My people are checking if they can determine whether there are buried sequence metrics somewhere in each message. You know, something indicating this is message ten, this one is eleven, twelve, and so on. The Xesset will know a message is suspect if it doesn’t contain the necessary sequence metric. I’ve had my communications team working through all the copies of Monty’s sent messages, but so far nothing stands out.”
“Interesting possibility. Perhaps we should take a risk?”
Gillespie said, “I’ve reached the same conclusion. I’ll get my team to draft a reply, based on the message threads. It’ll be ready for review in an hour.”
“Good. I’m heading to the mess. I feel as though I had breakfast yesterday and nothing since.”
“Give me a minute and I’ll join you. After lunch I’m back on watch until midnight,” the commander said.
*****
Chapter 18
“You seem to be popular with the Fain?” the commander commented as she sipped her coffee. She and Steg were enjoying a quiet moment in the officers’ mess, both understanding they had challenges to address after their meal.
“What? Oh, yes, they enjoyed patching me up, I think.” Steg recalled the scalpel. “It was touch and go for a moment.” He felt his face redden and changed the subject. “You’re ex-Fleet?”
“Retired with a large salvage bounty. My neighbors had no idea of what Fleet life was about, and we had nothing in common. Got bored. So five years ago we purchased Wasp—it was a retired frigate, ex-Alliance Navy—they’d removed all its weapons, of course, although we soon added what we thought were necessary once the War Merchants issued our license. ‘We’ including Rose Curtis, commonly called Curtains—she heads up Weapons, and our Engineering chief, Thi Baan. He’s Tacian, runs his department efficiently. You haven’t met him; he’s always in Engineering. Rose and Thi were on the same salvage trip with me, retired at the same time, and were as bored as me.”
“Bored now?”
Gillespie laughed and took another sip. “Certainly not. There’s a bit too much risk, though, this time. What do you think?”
Steg considered the question. He was not risk averse, yet did not think he took undue risks. He said, “I’ve been talking with your Weapons team and if the changes to Wasp are as good as everyone says, I believe we can defeat the Xesset, even if we’re outnumbered. This ship’s larger, almost as fast, and, from what I’ve been told, is strongly shielded, both for defense and stealth. We’re carrying heavy-duty weapons, far heavier than the Xesset can mount on their smaller ships. So, unless we suffer some unexpected misadventure, which is always possible, I’m confident we’ll win out.”
“What about Monty?”
“An irritant. Oh, of course, he can harm us. We don’t know what surprises he has up his sleeve, so to speak. We’ve enough mercs to manage him and his wives. It depends on his strategy, I suppose. We’ve threatened his habitat by draining off a hundred tons or more of his water supply, and he knows we can drain a lot more. We’ve cut off his power, we’re guarding his exit points, and he’s lost communications.”
“I wanted to ask you: how do you access and control his communications?”
“I’d prefer to leave the discussion for another day.”
“Understandable. I’m still curious, however.”
“Commander, when I can, I’ll tell you.”
“Jessica, please.” She patted his hand as she stood. “We’d better see what’s happening, I suppose.”
“Indeed. I’ll check Monty’s status, first. I’ll be on the bridge in thirty minutes. I want to re-read the Xesset’s last message and review your proposed reply.”
“Comms will be ready for you,” promised the commander.
Steg returned to the war room to find Sergeant Kirby and Captain Dean in conference with three other mercenary sergeants; two were from Dean’s company, and one was from another of the mercenary companies.
Dean turned to Steg. “We’re allocating rapid response resources. Everything is quiet, for the moment.”
“Calm before the storm,” Kirby predicted.
“Anything I need to know?”
“The AWE is still in position; corridors are sealed, Engineering has confirmed power has been cut off except for a domestic connection, and we now have cameras giving u
s views of different parts of the habitat. Not total coverage, of course. Monty surrendered large quantities of weapons and explosives. There’s been no noise or movement at any of the locks, at least, nothing we can detect,” replied Kirby.
“Good. As you said, it’s the calm before the storm. I’ll be on the bridge, if you need me. I want to review our recent Xesset messages.”
Steg read and re-read the latest communication from the Xesset to Monty; it had arrived in the last hour. He read it again, deep in thought. He read the earlier message. He turned to Commander Gillespie.
“There’s something wrong with these.”
“What do you mean?”
“They both have a different feel compared with previous messages. The prior messages were direct, had no surplus details, contained bare information. See, here, the messages are far too detailed and precise, and are set out with a lot of deliberation. It’s as though they’re saying ‘Hey, come and get us.’ There’s too much information about their course, about their intentions.”
“I see what you mean. Ross, what do you think?” The commander handed the flimsy to the Comms lead.
Ross perused the message again. “I’ve read it six times. I wondered. I thought there was something different. I agree.” He handed the flimsy back to the commander.
“We’re being set up,” Steg said. “Somehow Monty has broken through our communication barrier. I wonder—Ross, can you check what private messages from everyone—crew, mercs, officers—have been transmitted over the last twenty-four hours? If Monty used his insects to reach Attwood or anyone else who doesn’t believe he’s betrayed us to the Xesset, he may’ve persuaded them to send a message in some kind of code to alert his friends.”
The search took thirty minutes. Ross indicated the main display in front of his workstation, drawing Steg’s attention. “Look. Here are two messages. Attwood sent a message early this morning. And—what’s his name—the young lieutenant—ah, Berkin—also sent one, almost at the same time. Same addressee. Each message is made up of blocks of characters, a code of some kind. Here’s a third one, sent by Fowler, also blocks of characters. Monty knew his targets.”
“So he managed to send word out before we shut off the corridor. I suspect he used his bugs with a pre-recorded message to communicate with the targets, possibly via their implants; it was a matter of getting close enough, I suppose. Monty’s a definite challenge.”
Commander Gillespie came over from her station. “What have you found?”
“There are three apparently coded messages with indications they were sent on Monty’s behalf,” Ross replied, indicating the selection on the screen.
“We can assume the general content,” Steg added.
“And the senders were?”
“Attwood, Fowler, and Berkin.”
“Idiots. I’ll ban them from sending any more messages unless we verify the contents, first”
“I suspect Monty’s using small bugs to contact them. We’ll need to decontaminate Wasp,” Steg said. “Can Weapons handle that for us?”
“With enthusiasm—her team will enjoy the challenge of finding and destroying tiny, Monty-made bugs. I’ll get them started. It’ll take an hour or so to program the AI sweeps.”
“Good. Weapons also needs to be on alert for the arrival of Xesset ships. I suspect Monty’s requested them to come to his rescue. The question is whether they’ll send one or two ships to carry out their mission. It depends, I suppose, on what they see as the risk for their freighter. Let’s assume the worst: two ships to attempt his rescue, with resources for a number of boarding parties. Commander, may I work with Astro and Weapons to determine our strategy? We’ll reverse the ambush.”
Thress, the Astro watch commander—Thress seemed to be her only name—was eager to help address the problem and instructed her team to load and display starcharts matching their course. The multi-dimensional hologram added depth to the chart data, highlighting Wasp’s current position and marking the intended path the starship would travel in the next two to three days. The Weapons lead joined in the planning session, as did Commander Gillespie.
“As we know, the freighter is traveling from Astoner to Eos,” Thress said. One of her team members added the proximate freighter course to the display, and she continued. “We should intercept them here, in about fifty hours, if we continue our present heading and speed. You said the Xesset are providing three ships to escort the freighter?”
Steg said, “Yes, although they’ve now changed their strategy. We need to re-plan. Assume one Xesset starship remains with the freighter. The other two are on an intercept course to reach us, well before your time point. My reasoning is they’ll want to stop us before we reach the freighter. So, they’ll look for us here, don’t you think?” He indicated a point along their path, away from way stations and standard shipping lanes.
“I agree,” Thress confirmed. “We’ll be at that intercept point in thirty hours or so at our current speed.”
“What if we changed course to meet up with the freighter as it reaches Eos?” asked one of the team members.
“The Xesset would sweep search between this intercept point and the Eo system, and they’d soon find us,” replied the Weapons lead.
“We have alternatives,” Thress said. “If we increase our speed, it changes our transit profile. The Xesset will expect us to travel at our normal cruising speed. Our drives are running at sixty percent. What if we moved it up to ninety? For twenty-four hours?”
Commander Gillespie said, “If we climb above our intended path here, arrive earlier, and take up station above the intercept point, we’ll alter the Xesset ambush scenario. This asteroid belt has the potential to provide lots of opportunities for us to hide and wait?”
Thress did some quick calculations. “We would arrive there in a few minutes over twenty-four hours.”
“Wasp‘s capable of running at ninety percent, and we’ve plenty of power reserves. It’s practical,” confirmed Gillespie.
“The Xesset are unlikely to reach there in less than thirty hours, so we’d be settled in a good six hours before they arrive,” Steg said. “I like it.”
“We’ll use our stealth shields—they won’t see us. Let’s do it.” Commander Gillespie issued instructions, confirming the new course and speed. A frisson of excitement stirred the bridge watch—at last they were taking the initiative, not merely reacting to events.
Steg returned to the war room to update Dean and Kirby. “Our plan is to try to ambush the Xesset,” Steg said. He did not provide a detailed briefing in case the word spread through the mercenary companies and was passed to the ex-officers. If Attwood or another of Monty’s friends still had access to a communications unit, there was a danger the Xesset would be informed of their adjusted strategy. “Wasp has excellent stealth capabilities, and we’ve an approximate location where the Xesset are likely to attack. We’ll try to strike before they do.”
“I agree, our stealth shields are good,” Dean said. “Wasp’s able to hide from even Imperial destroyers. Hopefully, the Xesset scanners won’t be any more effective than Imperial.”
“What if Monty has provided the Xesset with our stealth shield frequency pattern—would they be able to find us?” Steg asked.
Kirby and Dean each had horrified expressions.
“You’re damned frightening, you know,” Sergeant Kirby complained. “I’ll worry about this for days.”
“Well, for a couple of days, anyway,” Dean said.
Steg smiled and half-saluted on his exit from the war room. He wanted to spend time in quiet deliberation and headed to his cabin. His two guards hurried to match his pace.
###
The First Senior Acolyte paused in his contemplation of data flows presented by the Glass Complex. The huge computer, embedded deep under the foundations of Castlehome, continued its intake of data from numerous systems across Imperial, Alliance and Rim regions. Fifty or so Acolytes attended its processing and it regularly pre
sented its analytic views to them and to the Senior Acolytes. However, the First Senior did not always agree with its analyses nor with its recommendations.
“Yes, Helen?”
‘First, I have a report for you—the Ebony Project.”
“Come in, take a seat. You, too, Tobias. Don’t stand out there, I won’t bite. Close the door.” The First Senior’s office was shaped like a small conference room, with viewscreens along each of three walls. His desk was tiny, and the room had few furnishings. The two Acolytes entered and took a seat at the conference table and the First Senior joined them. One of the larger screens glowed into life; the Glass Complex was connected and monitoring the discussion.
“So what do you know?” asked the Senior.
“Sir, it has taken a while. The Complex refuses to acknowledge it experienced a programming error. We’ve identified the decision point and I’m inclined to agree, although Tobias does not. In any event, the Complex transferred Steg de Coeur to what it assessed as the optimal destination for treatment of his blaster injury. It totally ignored the time dimension.”
“That’s what I claim is a program error,” interjected Tobias. He and Helen, both senior and experienced Acolytes, had worked together on the Ebony Project for the last year or so, ever since the attempted military takeover planned by Lady Gaetja. That woman, realizing her scheme had totally failed, had taken her revenge by ambushing de Coeur. Fortunately her blaster shot had not killed him, although the injury he suffered had been extremely serious.
“Let’s get to the important part of your report,” urged the First Senior. “We can discuss time parameters all day and still be at an impasse. You need to consider how the Complex regards time and space—its structure covers both. But I digress. Your report?”
Fracture Lines (The Glass Complex Book 2) Page 12