Star Realms: Rescue Run

by Jon Del Arroz

  The team around the table, those who were originally present and the onlookers who had joined, nodded and spoke amongst themselves.

  No one appeared as if they were about to comment. Energy in the room was as low as Dario could remember it being. Even with the stim cream application, Dario dragged as well. His eyelids were heavy as rocks and his hands tingled, slow to react. He turned from the table to head back out of the office.

  Jake followed him, clasping his hands behind his back as he moved. “That was well handled, sir,” he said.

  “Thanks. It didn’t feel like it.” If anything, he came dangerously close to losing his team—and out of a concern for other people’s lives. How would they feel if it was their friends or family down there? With VR entertainment being so realistic it became difficult to look at a holodisplay and remember that there were real lives to consider. Lives under the corporate payroll at that.

  “Well, it did some good. It’s hard to get through to the corporate lifers sometimes. They’ve been up in the Central Office so long they forget what air other people breathe,” Jake said with a little laugh. They walked together out of the building.

  “Lifers? Haven’t heard that before…” Dario considered a moment with a glance over to Jake. “You didn’t inherit any position, did you? Made your way up from scratch.”

  “You got me in one.”

  “Huh,” Dario said.

  “That bug you? Sometimes people in the department look at me a little different because of it. The corporation’s been so rigid for so long they don’t like to see change, or people moving up the ladder,” Jake said, lips twitching upward slightly.

  “No, not at all. I was just wondering what it’d be like. I’ve always hated my last name. People expect so much of me. They want me to act like my father, do the same things he does, have the same concerns he does. I’m my own person and I don’t get to experience that.”

  “I never considered that,” Jake said. He offered his hand to Dario. “I need to head off to my own bed. You’re good people, Dario. I’m going to be happy to work for you.”

  Dario shook Jake’s hand with a firm grip. “Likewise. Maybe there’s something to those psych profiles that paired us.”

  “Psyche profiles? Your father handpicked my resume and interviewed me himself.” Jake shrugged. “Night.” He veered off to the right and down a walkway.

  His father had chosen him personally? His appointment didn’t have anything to do with what the company systems produced? Dario stood speechless for a long moment. He did like Jake, and his father’s approval shouldn’t color his perception. Jake didn’t know how controlling his father could be, how much he tried to steer Dario’s life, he couldn’t fault the man for that. Besides, Jake was the only one in the group to stand up for the lives of other people. There’d be a lot to think about, that was for sure. He shook his head and made his way back toward the lift car alone.

  Chapter 5

  Our Best Hope

  S.E.S. Transport One, Level 2 Conference Room

  Local Date 1137.468

  Joan laughed. She laughed until she buckled over and could barely breathe. It wasn’t that this was a funny situation at all. If anything, her laughter was because she’d never been so scared in her life. Not when she’d heard her parents had both died and she’d be alone. Not during basic training, or even during her tribunal. Those had been frightening on a personal level, but to be called the best hope for a civilization? These people were out of their minds.

  She took a few breaths, hand on her chest to steady herself. “I’m sorry, but this has to be a sick joke. There’s no way you people would let me within a kilometer of a military installation. I signed a document promising that I’d keep at least that distance away with my release, as a matter of fact.”

  “Ms. Shengtu, this is not a laughing matter,” the bearded man said, a frown crossing his face.

  “This is exactly what I’m talking about,” Minister Ethani interjected with another flippant gesture. “She laughed at our authority? We should send her straight back to prison and this time with no rehabilitation and release.”

  “Don’t be rash, Minister Ethani. She was hired by intelligence to break into Balibran Station. It’d get thrown out of court in a minute for entrapment.”

  “I was what?” Joan asked, horrified. “I haven’t dealt with the government in years.”

  “When you met the contact for your latest break-in, that was one of our agents,” Minister Jaileen said apologetically. “Balibran Station is a corporate station with typical corporate securities. It was a test to see if you could successfully infiltrate.”

  “Then what’s with the armed officers with stunners? And the cell?” Joan tensed.

  “We had to ensure you wouldn’t run and disappear. It was hard enough as it was to discover your location.” Minister Jaileen paced around the horseshoe-shaped desk, taking a seat.

  Which is the way I like to keep it, Joan thought. She’d been set up. Stung. She should have seen this. G.O.D. should have seen it. The mission had been too good to be true. A pretty simple break-in, all things considered, and the pay would have set her up to quit thieving altogether. At least for the near future, while she figured out her life.

  Now wasn’t the time to fly off the handle. She still had guards watching her every move, and she didn’t relish the thought of getting stunned again. Besides, if she truly was the Star Empire’s best hope, they needed her. The Council of Ministers couldn’t afford to hurt her. It still didn’t explain why they went about tracking down and testing a small time smuggler—or as she preferred to be called, “salvage liberating engineer.” G.O.D. never found that one funny. The joke brought a small smile to her face now.

  Joan crossed her arms and tried to look confident. “Okay, enough of the dancing around. What’s this mission that I’m the only person you can think of to handle?”

  “Have a seat, Ms. Shengtu,” Minister Jaileen said, motioning to a guard. The guard grabbed a chair from the side of the room and placed it before Joan, facing toward the holoprojector at the open end of the table. “I have a presentation prepared for your benefit to brief you on the situation.”

  Joan turned toward the holoprojector and sat. The image morphed into a camera display of a space battle. Dozens of Imperial Fighters and Corvettes with the Star Empire logo on their wings scrambled in a dogfight with Trade Federation ships of the same make. Larger capital ships loomed in the background. A small transport broke through the cloud of fighters and proton missiles. There the image paused.

  “Six weeks ago, A Trade Federation fleet engaged our forces blockading the Lighstry System,” Minister Jaileen said, motioning to the holodisplay. “The S.E.S. Righteous Victory was boarded by Trade Federation commandos. The Trade Federation fleet retreated, perplexing our strategists. We had projected the blockade would hold through this battle, but the enemy fleet didn’t take nearly enough damage to warrant such a retreat. We didn’t find out until later that the commandos that boarded the Righteous Victory kidnapped Commodore Zhang. There was never any intention to break our blockade, this was a gambit to cripple us in other ways.”

  Joan knew full well who Commodore Zhang was. Everyone who had any interaction with the Star Empire Navy knew that name. That woman was responsible for nearly every advance the Star Empire made in building a buffer zone between themselves and the ever encroaching Trade Federation. More than that, she had successes against the Lly’bra—which most people called the Blob because Lly’bra was just too hard to pronounce. Joan had to admit those creatures and ships did look Blob-like. Zhang was a tactical genius, inspiring, where so few of Joan’s own crewmates had been. The biographic holos were part of the reason Joan decided to join the fleet to begin with. But she’d not heard this tale before. “This didn’t make the newsvids…”

  “No, it most certainly did not. Though most of the Empire is unaware of the specifics of our military actions, there are enough civilian analysts who could caus
e undue panic with this information.”

  Undue? There was nothing undue about it. Even this very ship may not be safe if the Trade Federation chose to press. Joan shifted uneasily. Her shoulders tensed at the thought. “I am no expert strategist, I can’t help you there.”

  “No, but you are an expert at smaller scale plans, breaking and entering, and smuggling cargo.” The minister paced in front of the special projection to look Joan in the eyes.

  “You can’t be serious,” Joan said, too dumbstruck to say anything else.

  “You would not be here in this council room if we weren’t serious, or if we had another option. You have a military training and an expertise in the aforementioned skills. Our analysts have done the research. You are the person we need to extract Commodore Zhang. Are you willing to accept a temporary recommission? For the sake of the Star Empire?”

  “My god…” Joan said.

  “Yes, Ms. Shengtu?” her AI’s voice rang in her ear.

  “Not you.”

  “Pardon, Ms. Shengtu?” Minister Jaileen said with a confused raise of her brow.

  Joan glanced around the room once more. The eyes of the Council of Ministers all scrutinized her every move. These were trained politicians and diplomats. She had no shot evading them, or even trying to talk on their level. She had to be honest. “I want to help,” Joan said. It was true. She wasn’t heartless and the Hyrades Cluster was her home as well as anyone else’s. “But I won’t accept a military recommission. Not on those terms. I like being on my own, independent, and I want to stay that way.”

  Minister Jaileen cocked her head at Joan. “Whatever you wish to title yourself, it doesn’t matter—”

  “It does matter,” interjected Minister Ethani. “It’s a matter of discipline and a matter of control. I served the fleet before I became a Minister. I understand its importance. If she can’t accept a rank, how can she accept orders from us?”

  Chatter in the background of the conference room echoed agreement with Minister Ethani.

  “Here’s my problem with the military,” Joan said with a little aggravation, loud enough to cut through the noise of the others. “I barely made enough credits to be able to feed myself. Once all of the supplies were taken out of my stipend, I was left with almost nothing. I may have fallen in with some of the wrong people, but I had to. I turned to taking from the stores because there was no choice if I wanted to survive.”

  Minister Ethani’s face tightened. “Service to the Star Empire isn’t something one does for money.”

  “Easy for you to say.” Joan narrowed her eyes at Minister Ethani, all too ready for a fight. “You don’t look like you’ve lived without it.”

  More rumblings erupted and the man with the gavel pounded again. “Order!” He said, giving Joan a sympathetic sigh. “I believe you’ve made your point, Ms. Shengtu. Frankly, I believe this Council doesn’t need you to be a commissioned naval officer in order to perform this task. If the intelligence committee believes she has the prerequisites required to complete the mission, then we can move forward.”

  “Thank you, Speaker,” Minister Jaileen said. “I believe that your conditions have been satisfied, Ms. Shengtu?”

  Joan thought for a moment before speaking. “I’m not doing this for free either. I struggle to make ends meet as much now as I did then and I don’t particularly like what I’ve been doing. Jobs are hard to come by out here and I want to make sure I’m taken care of. I want a stipend after this, big enough that I’ll not have to bend the rules again.”

  “That can be arranged.”

  Joan nodded victoriously, belly filled with fire. She’d expected a little more of a fight, and their agreement took the wind out of her indignant sails. Perhaps she should have demanded more, but she wasn’t the greedy sort, unlike so many others in her profession. She just wanted to be able to be left alone. Her and G.O.D. Which did remind her… “I also need a programming team to look at my AI. He’s crucial to my abilities and he’s undergone some sort of malfunction ever since Balibran Station.”

  “Anything we can do to help the mission go smoothly, you can assure we will provide our best,” Minister Jaileen said.

  She’d had all of her conditions met without question so far. Were there more? Her life had been fairly simple since she’d been released from that penal colony. Jobs weren’t hard to come by, but if the Trade Federation advanced on the outer colonies, they’d make it more difficult for independent procurement specialists like herself to make ends meet. Besides, the Hyrades Cluster was her home. She had some allegiance to the Star Empire, even if the navy hadn’t treated her well. With nothing she could think of to add to her list of demands, Joan stood up from her seat, crossing through the hologram display. She turned to face the room, offering her hand to Minister Jaileen. “Okay. I’m in. Where do we start?”

  Chapter 6

  Reprimands

  Regency BioTech Central Office, Mars

  Local Date January 18th, 2464

  Dario spent the hours after his shift as he usually did: sitting in his comfortable chair while facing the window that overlooked the ten levels below him. Though he stared toward the window, his oculars had been set to display an immersive feed, allowing him to ignore reality in its entirety.

  When he’d first had the implants installed, Dario would close his eyes to access the nets, but in recent years he’d realized that he could appear as if he were staring off into space, thinking. The trick had allowed him to coast through several classes in college and staff meetings when he returned to the company afterward. How normal people could sit through those without going crazy, he had no idea.

  The past two work shifts had been difficult. As he’d expected, his comm flooded with messages within minutes of the eight o’clock shift start. Executives, lawyers, public relations consultants all wanted his take on how the crisis was handled.

  Dario explained his team’s actions, repeating the story of the late night riot events so many times that he felt like he was in a déjà vu time loop. Once those calls died down, he and his team went to work on how to restore the lost profits.

  Insurance would cover a portion of the damages, but there were customers who counted on the bodymods that would have been delivered from this factory. Retaining those client relationships were as important as the lost profits themselves. Perhaps more so. Though sales and production weren’t his departments, both needed to coordinate with him directly to get back on schedule.

  The end result was he and his team would be working overtime for the next few weeks. Manufacturing promised to deliver 110% of normal products per day to make sure the cycle caught up in acceptable time limits.

  Today, the legal team had caught up with Dario and requested a formal statement. He had been carefully coached beforehand on what to say. No one believed there would be any repercussions from his decisions. The underlevelers who complained of injuries from the BioMechs or sleep gas had very little legal standing when it came to civil suits against the company. The legal team doubted that Dario would be held liable, but still made him sign a statement that his actions were done under duress and that he felt he had to act to prevent even greater injuries.

  The whole corporate process made his stomach churn. The more he thought about it, the more unsettled his thoughts became. No one cared about lives. People were as expendable as BioMechs or bodymods. It annoyed Dario enough that he decided to take a walk around the Central Office’s open air promenade. Open air was a loose term, of course. The station was an enclosed metal shell that rested just above Mars’s Lagrangian point, connected to the also enclosed dome via a space elevator.

  The rioters had been held for the entire day after they woke. No one in corporate security would take responsibility for the lives that were in their hands. There was property damage to consider, and someone had to be held responsible for that. Mars had laws that could be prosecuted via corporate judicial structure of the offended property, but with the underlevelers, none of
them had any property or recourse of which the company could extract. That was the purpose of insurance in the first place. But the people were left hanging in detention cells; ones that Dario knew were in various states of frustration, trying to feed and care for their families like anyone else.

  Dario authorized their release. Holding them would do no good. The prospect of waking up in a cell and being given a warning about property damage would only cause further anger for the majority of those who were caught up in the emotion of the other evening’s riot. The only problem was finding whoever instigated the riot so it couldn’t happen again. Reports showed that security feeds went down internally moments before the riot occurred. This had been planned to agitate the people down below. It didn’t naturally occur.

  That thought process was a waste of time. Sleuthing certainly couldn’t be considered Dario’s job. He had to ensure quality control maintained its quotas in releasing products for distribution, answer media questions regarding the incident as the chief authority of the impacted division, and ensure precautions were in place so this couldn’t happen again. BioMechs had been dispatched to security at all quality control plants in the solar system. That wouldn’t be a problem. Still, Dario couldn’t help but wonder as to the roots of this problem and what would happen to the people involved.

  He flicked his eyes upward to turn off the complete nets view in his oculars, changing back to a mix of standard vision and thermal readings. When he stood, he froze to see his father sitting at his table, patiently waiting on one of the stools.

  “Father,” Dario said under his breath, inadvertently taking a step backward. He stumbled when his foot hit the leg of his chair. “I didn’t hear you ring the chime.”

  Mr. Anazao grabbed Dario by the arm to stabilize him. He cocked his head, releasing Dario when he regained his footing. “I didn’t ring. I have high-level corporate access, remember? You’ve been staring out the window for over an hour. Or were you?”