by Drew Wagar
Rebecca nodded briefly.
‘Fail or attempt to flee and I will see that you revisit your recent experience to its ultimate conclusion. These nano-bots are capable of communication and instruction across the chart. Do not underestimate their reach. Do I make myself clear?’
Rebecca shuddered but she’d regained enough strength to raise her head. She spat in Garew’s face.
‘You utter piece of frak…’
Garew wiped away the offending material. ‘You don’t understand, Rebecca. I only do what is required. It’s no different from what you do.’
‘I don’t torture people!’ she cried, her voice shaking.
‘No? You laser pilots into oblivion, don’t you?’ Garew replied easily. ‘What do you think goes through their minds in those last few moments before their ships disintegrate around them, Rebecca? We both do it because it is necessary to do so.’
‘You’ll pay for…’ she began.
‘Spare me the useless posturing,’ Garew snapped. ‘You know as well as I do that you’ll never find me. I will disappear; I’m a creature of necessity, Rebecca. You may not like what I do but it’s required. Galcop must survive. Complete the task, receive your reward and that will be the end of it. Or I can kill you now. It’s your choice.’
Rebecca wrestled with herself for a moment, before nodding and collapsing forward, her head bowed.
Garew eyed her speculatively.
‘Fly the mission, Rebecca. Do what needs to be done. I’ll be watching you.’
He left her, shuddering in the corner. The door hissed closed behind him.
For long minutes she was unable to move. She reached out a number of times, trying to draw enough strength to crawl across the floor. Finally, shaking from head to feet, she managed to grab one of the portable commtabs. With unsteady fingers she managed to punch out a message to the only person she thought could help her, the only one she thought she might be able to trust.
Udian climbed aboard the Hammer and ensconced himself in the highly modified bridge module. The carapace and bulky limbs that served him outside of the ship disconnected and retreated into matching compartments around the bulkheads. His container unit was lowered into place and new interfaces sprang from the cubicle to connect with him.
For a moment there was disorientation, as his other sensors disconnected, before the breath-taking clarity of the ships information feeds became his eyes, his ears, his touch and taste. He became part of the ship…
No, I am the ship. Hammer; Shulth. There is no appreciable difference anymore…
He could feel the status of the ship. The engines pulsing like well exercised muscles. Energy conduits pushing throughout like veins and arteries. The twin core powerplant of the ship glowing like a powerful heart. His heart.
The moment of euphoria passed and he began to assimilate the information he’d gathered. Without needing to resort to the clumsy mechanics of a keyboard or even more laborious speech he sent his request out across secure channels.
Derik Roh’i – Native of Tionisla (G1). Age 56 Standard Years. Callsign ‘Wyvern’
Occupations: Bounty hunter, warrior, occasional freelance test pilot
Combat rating: Elite
Vessel : Caduceus Omega ‘Persistence of Memory’
The Roh’i family are unique among the Lizard species. Being hybrids, the Roh’i are practically a species unto themselves. Crossbreeding with other Lizard species and subtle genetic editing have strengthened the Rohi bloodline over the centuries. The Roh’i estate is located on a small, privately owned continent and is the HQ of the Rohi's space trading business.
Udian was familiar with the lizard’s background having worked with him before. He skipped to the next entry.
Carlos Estevan Maynard – Native of Zaquesso (G5). Age unconfirmed, believe middle 50s. Callsign ‘Coyote’
Occupations: Bounty Hunter, smuggler, self-styled ‘Contrabandista’
Combat Rating: Elite
Vessel : Cobra Mk3 (noted to be heavily customised) ‘Dark Star’
Carlos ‘Coyote’ Maynard is the seventh child of an anglo-chinese father and spanish mother. A poker player, veteran combateer, occasional heavy drinker, with a penchant for Zaquessoian evil juice, he is a lover of marijuana, cigars, coffee and fine cuisine, as well as women with dubious morals and ancient music played at excessive volume. Usually to be seen in a faded black ship-suit, he is rarely without his worn head covering (ref: Sombrero) and is known to carry a pistol (ref: projectile weapon of antique design) in an ankle holster, which, by report, he is not afraid to use. He has a reputation as an inveterate ‘contrabandista’ but only deals in narcotics and ‘special’ contracts… trading in slaves or firearms is anathema to him. He is a master of the art of smuggling… if you need something ‘special’ transported covertly across the chart, Coyote can deliver… at a price.
Udian studied the report for a while. Coyote matched the description exactly, his informers had done well. Coyote had reacted as he’d expected to the necessity of moving the bio-weapon. Garew appeared convinced that Coyote was the right man for the job. Certainly no one else had the experience demonstrated by a lifetime of smuggling through the charts. The ethical stand on weapons was unfortunate. Ethics made things far too complex. A weakness to watch.
Udian skipped to the next entry.
Rebecca Weston. Native of Tianve (G1). Age 39 standard years. Callsign ‘Kitalpha’
Occupation: Trader
Combat Rating: Deadly
Vessel: Vampire Mk1 (noted to be heavily customised) ‘Eclipse’
Rebecca’s official Galcop history has been heavily edited to give the impression of a typical trader profile. This has been done at an exceptional level of quality. Determining her original profile required significant investment of resource.
Udian inspected the text more closely, already intrigued.
Since 3140 her record appears to be current and events are believed to be a reasonably accurate record of her activities – unremarkable in the main. She achieved her ‘Deadly’ combat rating in 3144 but progress towards Elite status has slowed, particularly in recent years. The editing is concerned with events between the years 3138 and 3140. Her official profile before 3140 can thus be considered a complete fabrication.
Prior to 3138 we believe she was called Rebecca Tyley, daughter of Reet and Rihanna Tyley, both traders from Tianve. Rihanna Tyley was reported missing in 3117. Born in 3112, Rebecca first achieved notoriety during 3132 for singlehandedly destroying a fully armed Python Class Cruiser with a poorly equipped Sidewinder scout ship. Reet, along with Rebecca’s brother Red Tyley, was killed by assassination in 3138, leaving Rebecca the only survivor from the family (she is officially listed as killed in the same incident). The assassination appears to have been ordered by Galcop to prevent the usage of the first prototype Quirium Cascade Mines, invented by a scientist by the name of James Feynman (also heavily edited and now known as Jim McKenna). Full details can be accessed in the attached confidential Galcop document ‘The Achenar Plot, changing the Status Quo.’
Udian chuckled to himself.
Hence the name – The Tyley-Feynman Quirium cascade mine. Somebody somewhere has a twisted sense of humour…
He returned to the text.
Determining entries for the period around 3140 is more complex and data is incomplete. Indications are that Rebecca and Jim were responsible for the death of Zerz Furvell, Galcop’s erstwhile chief technician, in a dispute concerning some kind of immensely powerful weapon. Entries are restricted at the highest level of Galcop encryption and security, which we’ve been unable to penetrate. Some entries conflict in their reference to the encrypted material. Some consistently refer to a weapon; others appear to indicate a location or destination. The precise details of the event remain elusive and we suspect, not stored in accessible or networked format. It is a secret of significant notoriety, eyes only.
Had Udian still been in possession of eyelids, he would have blinked in surprise. H
is network of cryptographic specialists, informers and spies had never submitted an incomplete report before. There had been no secret that he’d not found a way to access. Galcop strived to keep him out but always failed.
Yet this is so dangerous Galcop considers it the ultimate secret; they won’t even enter it into a databank. What did this woman do? Clearly Garew knows at least part of it. I must discover the truth…
The commlink buzzed for attention.
Speak of the devil and he will appear…
The screen illuminated. Udian focussed on Garew’s undistinguished face.
‘Greetings,’ Udian intoned.
‘Are you ready?’ Garew replied immediately.
‘Everything is prepared,’ Udian answered smoothly.
‘The bio-weapons remain the top priority. Ensure Beenri is dealt with, regardless of any reservations the others may have.’
‘You mean Signor Maynard,’ Udian replied with a chuckle.
‘He’ll get you there, you can dispose of him and the gecko afterwards as you see fit. They’ll have served their purpose.’
‘And the woman?’
Garew’s eyes narrowed. ‘What about her?’
‘For a mere Deadly combateer she has an interesting background…’
Garew paused for a moment. ‘Let’s just say she has been to some interesting places.’
‘Indeed. What function does she serve on this particular mission?’
‘As discussed, additional firepower…’
‘I am not a fool,’ Udian interrupted immediately. ‘You could do better than a mere Deadly combateer.’
Garew leant back and regarded Udian for a moment.
‘She…’ he said, with a faint smile. ‘She is plan ‘B’.’
As Garew explained the details, Udian was unable to raise his eyebrows a second time.
Rebecca followed Blaze down the convoluted corridors, noticing the various retinal and dna scanners checking her along the route. She was given an approving nod by the Isis guards on duty outside.
The doors to the hangar snapped open, revealing a dimly lit bay. The ship inside was in silhouette, framed by the energy barrier separating them all from the vacuum of space.
Blaze rolled to one side, allowing Rebecca a moment to view the vessel before he activated the lights.
‘We based a lot of the command and control on the original Mk1,’ Blaze said, conversationally. ‘A lot of folks thought we’d gone too far from the original simplicity with the intermediate versions. The Mk5 is more like the Mk1 in spirit; simpler and lighter, less automation or cosseting; more demanding of the pilot.’
Rebecca took in the lines of the ship for a moment.
‘What’s its name?’
‘Doesn’t have one,’ Blaze admitted. ‘It’s the first Mk5.’
‘Every ship has got to have name.’
‘Why not call it after your old Eclipse? A fine name.’
Rebecca shook her head. ‘No, she died. Time to move on. Switch on the lights.’
Blaze fired up the hangar illumination. Despite the fierce brightness the ship still looked dim, hard to see clearly. Eyesight seemed to slide off its mysterious profile.
‘So…’ Rebecca mused. ‘Swift, surgical. Spins on a credit piece. Hard to see coming. A ghost with attitude. A little like me.’
Blaze look at her as she walked up to the blunt snub nosed bow of the ship. It reminded Rebecca of her old ship. She held out a hand towards it, as if she was trying to communicate with it.
After a moment she nodded, mouthing something to herself.
‘So, what do you think?’ Blaze asked, impatiently.
Rebecca touched the vessel, feeling the curiously rough surface of the hull.
Her eyes narrowed. ‘Be good to me, Spectre.’
‘…Galcop is requisitioning supplies for the war effort. Lance and Fermann, Cowell and McGrath are just two of the most notable companies who’ve had their factories turned completely over to manufacturing replacement ships and weapons. All licensed pilots with a rank of 'Dangerous' or above are required to engage Thargoid vessels whenever directed to do so by Galcop personnel. Supplies of food and essential good are being rationed via the marketplace as trading convoys are finding it increasingly difficult to maintain supply. The Galactic inflation index has shot up three points in the last week and worries over the aligned world’s economic stability continues to lead to severe price fluctuations…’
The news cast was interrupted, replaced by an authentication screen.
‘Incoming text communication,’ a computerised voice announced.
Jim looked up and picked the comm-tab up. ‘Play.’
‘Message is encrypted and marked as highly confidential,’ the computer responded. ‘Unlock required. Code prompt is Mutabilis forty two.’
Jim blinked, he’d not been prompted for that code in years, not since his old colleague Geraint had used it for clandestine comms during that business with the Q-Bomb. That was over thirteen years ago. Only one other person knew that code.
Rebecca!
Jim mumbled out a complex security code.
The message was stark.
‘Jim. Trouble. The War, Bugs, Galcop and you know what. Call me. R.’
His fingers trembled as he read it, then his hand shook and he dropped the comm-tab on the floor. It bounced with a loud rattle.
‘Jim?’ Sonia asked from the room next door. ‘What are you doing?’
She was getting ready for another evening soiree. The Pasquals were due at their apartment at any moment, for another socialite dinner party. Sonia was putting the finishing touches to her make-up. Preparation for the evening had started the night before.
‘I need to deal with something,’ Jim’s voice was hoarse.
‘What? Now?’ she said, crossly, coming into the bedroom. ‘They’ll be here in ten minutes!’
‘Yes now.’
‘It’ll have to wait, this is more important!’ Sonia seethed, putting her hands on her hips.
‘No, it’s not.’
‘I’m not losing this opportunity to raise our profile. All the work I’ve put in!’
‘Sonia! I need to do this.’
Sonia glared at him, walked past and then made a grab for the comm-tab. Jim fumbled for it, trying to stop her but she got hold of it and wrestled it away from him.
Sonia read the message quickly and then turned her narrowed eyes on him.
‘It’s that woman, isn’t it? The space cowgirl…’ Sonia’s glare was accusing. ‘What’s her name? Rachel? Rosanna?’
‘Rebecca,’ Jim said, slowly.
It even hurts to say her name, even after all this time. Brown hair, brown eyes, biting her lower lip I’ll bet…
‘Listen, she’s in trouble. I can help. That was her ship on the news. The war…’
‘She’s in trouble!’ Sonia threw the comm-tab at him. ‘What about us, Jim? You’re still obsessed with her, aren’t you?’
‘No…’
‘Yes you are!’ Sonia blazed. ‘You can’t walk past a ship without wistfully looking at it. I’ve seen you! Wondering where she is and what’s she’s doing!’
‘It’s not like that…’ Jim replied, guiltily.
‘You can’t wait to crawl back to her to make up for whatever mistake you made back then!’ Sonia fired back.
‘It’s not that. It’s the war, she needs my help!’
‘Randomius, you’re so deluded!’ She turned away, a hand on her forehead.
‘It was over a long time ago!’ Jim fired back. ‘She chose a different route…’
‘And you never committed to this one!’ Sonia screeched. ‘Are you with me here in civilisation or are you out there scratching an existence between the stars? Whatever you do, stop sighing and wallowing in melancholy over the past and make a decision. I’m not living with her ghost anymore!’
Jim looked at her. ‘Sonia, wait… please. Let’s not be rash…’
‘No. I want to be rash!’
she shot back. ‘Make your mind up. Her or me?’
Jim stared at her for a moment without responding. His mind racing.
‘So that’s it is it?’ Sonia said, ‘Eight years, Jim. Eight years! Is that all I meant to you?’
She began opening wardrobes, gathering clothes and throwing them across the room. Jim followed her as she moved like a whirlwind around the room.
‘Sonia…’
‘What is it about her?’ Sonia asked, suddenly turning on him. She started throwing things at him; clothes, vases, pillows, light fittings, anything she could lay her hands on. ‘She’s no oil painting! She’s got no manners, no figure. She swears like a Galcop trooper. Covered in engine grease I’ll bet! No class, no breeding. She’s beneath you. Probably shacked up with a dozen men since the last time you saw her! You’ll be lucky if she even remembers you. Dirty little whore…’
Jim grabbed her furiously, almost lifting Sonia off the floor.
Her eyes widened in surprise. ‘So… that’s the truth is it? You dumb sap. You still love her don’t you?’
‘I… ’ Jim couldn’t answer. His heart was thumping painfully. To his surprise Sonia started laughing.
‘Hilarious! Go to her. Go on.’ She folded her arms.
Jim looked at her in surprise. ‘You aren’t…’
‘What?’ Sonia demanded. ‘Heart broken, begging you to stay?’
‘I…’
‘What do you think? It was only a matter of time before I forced you to stray. It’s only because you’re such a coward that you stayed so long! Didn’t think I could make your life much more unpleasant!’ She picked up the comm-link and gestured with it. ‘A little creative embellishment and I’ve got grounds for divorce - your money, your reputation and anything else I want. I’ll take everything, clean you out and move on up.’
Jim stared at her in astonishment.
The last eight years. I thought we had something at the start… it was really all a game? Just social climbing?
Sonia laughed cruelly as she watched the thoughts cross his face.
‘You conniving little… ’ Jim lowered his hand.
Sonia’s face was triumphant but cold. ‘Go to the scrawny little space-bitch, go on. Get out of my apartment.’