****
“Lee, you’re my boy and all, but dude!” Link grumbled, fanning through the pages of Lee’s manuscript-sized E-42 briefing packet. “We’ve really gotta find you a girl because you’ve obviously got way too much time on your hands.”
“Aye Lee,” Hamish agreed. “Is this a mission briefing or a bloody manifesto?”
“Sorry about that, fellas,” Lee apologized. “But this is the final mission of the game and from everything I’ve been able to find about it online, which ain’t much given that only one other clan in the world has been this far, they throw a lot of curveballs at us in this one.”
“Curveballs my ass,” Link muttered. “More like a friggin’ no-hitter, apparently.”
“Okay, here’s what we know,” Lee continued. “After heavy losses in the Rynhall, Riveras, and Marlon systems, the Alystierians have managed to fight their way right into the backyard of Auran space. The only thing holdin’ ‘em back from an all-out invasion of Aura itself is the issue of fuel. By the time their fleet gets that deeply into our territory, they’re in dire need of resupply, but they’re hell and gone from a hub to get it. With that said, intel has confirmed that the Alystierians are nearing completion of a full-scale refueling depot in orbit around the planet Morrius, and if they finish it, they’ll have the capacity to strike any target, anywhere, anytime, Aura included.”
“Wow, game over,” Danny noted.
“Exactly.”
“How good is the intel?” Link sneered. “Just so we’re clear, as far as I’m concerned, the entire Auran Central Intelligence Bureau can pretty much go screw itself in the culo! I’ll be damned if I’m gettin’ raked over the coals again just because one of their little peon analysts can’t read a friggin’ report!”
“It’s legit,” Lee assured him. “Command deployed a deep space probe three days ago that sent back images and telemetry verifyin’ its authenticity.”
“So we just need to blow the depot, right?” Mac asked, visibly surprised that the vaunted “E-42” would be so straightforward. “What’s the big deal about that? I mean, if it’s still under construction, why not just deploy the fleet, blow the thing out of orbit and be done with it?”
“The Alystierians are well aware of the importance of this facility which is why they’ve set up a sizable blockade to defend it. In order to get past those ships, the Aurans would literally have to throw everything they have at them for any shot at success, and given the heavy losses by the fleet in recent months, that’s a real shaky proposition.”
“Has the CIB calculated an early probability of success?” Hamish asked.
“Best-case scenario, 50/50 and all indications are that’s a generous projection.”
“Wow,” Danny marveled. “So after everything we’ve been through in this game, the war still comes down to a literal flip of the coin.”
“Apparently,” said Lee. “But command thinks the destruction of this depot could mark a major shift in the war effort because not only would it keep the enemy off of their doorstep, but it would also put a hefty dent in the Alystierian fleet.” He paused to glance down at the opposition estimates on the page in front of him. “Make no mistake about it, folks, the Alystierians know exactly what’s at stake here, and they’re stackin’ the deck with this blockade to make sure they defend it too.”
“Which is?” Hamish asked.
“Five cruisers, eight destroyers, and two carriers, plus the fighters and bombers stationed on the planet’s surface, in addition to the ones aboard the carriers.”
“Man, that’s some serious firepower!” Link whistled.
“Yes it is,” Lee agreed. “And to make matters worse, they weren’t screwin’ around when it came to the depot’s protection, either. The hull plating alone is thicker than anything we’ve seen before, makin’ it virtually impenetrable to short-range fighters. So even if we could run the blockade to reach the target, doin’ any real damage to it is a whole ‘nother issue.”
“Then what are we talking about here?” Danny asked blankly. “I mean, from the sound of it, the ASC has one play here and that’s to throw everything they have at this thing and hope to god something sticks. If they wait and Alystier finishes the depot, they’re dead anyway. So what’s the mission?”
“The fleet itself might only have a 50/50 chance of breachin’ the blockade, but the brass thinks a more—” Lee paused, “surgical approach might have a higher chance of success.”
“Okay?” Mac wondered aloud. “And that is?”
“They want to deploy a strike team to board the depot and blow it from the inside.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up there, Top,” Link interjected. “If command thinks that the entire Auran fleet only has a ‘flip of the coin’s’ chance of running the blockade to get to the depot, what can they possibly expect a single team of five soldiers with no support to do about it?”
“For cryin’ out loud! Did anybody even read this thing?” Lee moaned, shoving the briefing packet toward his webcam. “I mean, it only took me the better part of three weeks to assemble it!”
The four sets of guilty eyes on the monitor looked away.
“Fine,” he huffed. “Open to page 23 and follow along. Because the outpost’s primary function is refueling, they didn’t put much else aboard. You’re lookin’ at a control tower, a stationary docking bay for incoming personnel transports, and a small maintenance and R&D lab. That’s it. The technicians tasked with buildin’ this thing are workin’ in 12-hour shifts, stationed out of a temporary base on the planet’s surface.”
“Ahhhh,” Danny mumbled. “I think I know where you’re headed with this.”
“The operation will consist of three phases. Phase One; usin’ an Alystierian supply shuttle which the Praetorian managed to procure during the Marlon engagement, we’ll infiltrate the base on Morrius posing as additional tech support for the project. Once we’re in, we’ll proceed to the barracks where the actual techs are bein’ housed. From there, we’ll neutralize five of them and take their place on the next shift which departs by shuttle for the depot at 07:00.”
“Whoa, hold up a sec, Lee.” Mac halted. “If we go in there and just whack five random guys, won’t anybody notice that there are five complete strangers reporting for work?”
“Good question, but not likely,” he explained. “They’ve put so much manpower into gettin’ this thing operational ASAP that they’ve been streamin’ personnel through there like worker bees in a hive. Therefore, five fresh faces shouldn’t be anything new.”
She shrugged, satisfied, as Lee went on.
“Once we’re aboard the depot, we move to Phase Two, where we’ll have to split up. Hamish,” he turned to Lunley. “Danny and I will tail you to the main engineering section and cover you while you set the charge in the depot’s primary energy core. In the meantime, Mac and Link will double back around to the docking bay to find us a ride off of this scrap heap.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Hamish smiled. “I’ll just set up the bomb to remote detonate, and we can blow it from space once we’re out. Easy peasy.”
“Sorry, Big Man, but unfortunately it ain’t gonna be that simple,” Lee exhaled. “You’ve gotta blow it while we’re still onboard.”
“WHAT?!” a collective outburst exploded, sending a shrill jolt of feedback rippling through Lee’s earpiece.
“Mac, you’re awfully quiet over there,” Lee said, massaging the pain from his temples and fully aware that the tech-savviest member of his team already understood why it had to be this way. “Care to enlighten the class?”
Her expression flattened. “Because they have a shield.”
“A shield?” Link piped up. “We’ve never had any of that forcefieldy crap before, just good, old-fashioned metal-on-metal action. So when did we beam up to techno-goober land?”
“Relax, Midget, it’s not that kind of shield,” Mac explained. “It’s more like a firewall-style jamming device, and it’s actually just a n
ew twist on an old safeguarding technique that both fleets have used for years to prevent Kamikaze attacks. Only in this case, they’ve adapted it to block certain unauthorized radio signals as well.”
“How do ya mean?” Hamish asked.
“It’s not that complex, really. The system emits a field around friendly ships that scrambles the navigational array of any oncoming vessel or craft that comes into contact with it while in hyperspace. That’s why in battle, both fleets always jump into the same system and then go at it, because that’s literally as close as they can physically get to each other without having their Nav-Coms completely trashed before they exit the window. Everybody follow?”
Danny shrugged. “Not exactly. I mean, who cares if the navigational systems work or not when the ship drops out of hyperspace? Once it strikes the target, there’s not much need to navigate anywhere, right?”
“That’s just it,” Mac corrected him. “It doesn’t strike the target. When you scramble a Nav-Com in mid-transit, whatever is on course gets flung off to some random set of coordinates in space. That could take you right through a star, or an asteroid field or any number of things that’d make you very, very, very dead when it’s all over. Then on the off chance that you do exit hyperspace intact, your navigational scopes are so gummed up that you’d have to reboot the entire system just to untangle the mess. Believe me, I’ve been working to solve this problem with drones for months now, and I’ve seen it all.”
“Yeah, but we’re talking about a radio signal here, remember?” Link added. “It’s a communications thing, not a navigational one. No Nav-Com required.”
Mac shook her head. “Same type of system—same result. The signal just bounces off the field into never-never-land and everything inside goes on about its business.”
“And it’s completely hack-proof?” Danny deduced.
“Afraid so, Danny Boy. I’ve had some modest results of late, but nothing I’d chance this close to the end of the game. Bottom line, kiddies: this is some of the single most sophisticated code I’ve ever worked with, and I might crack it one day, but it’s not today.”
“Hey Hamish,” Lee added. “What’s the absolute max you could give us on a time delay?”
Hamish drummed his fingers on his desk. “I don’t know,” he pondered aloud. “I could rig something up through the core’s primary injection system. That’d give ya… 90 seconds maybe?”
“Yeah, ‘cause that’s not cutting it close or anything,” Link muttered.
“Provided that we do our jobs gettin’ on and off the depot without bein’ discovered, it’ll be enough,” Lee assured him. “You just worry about findin’ us a ride off of that trash heap before it blows.”
“And Phase Three?” Danny asked.
“Phase Three is we run like our pants are on fire, because if we don’t,” Lee noted, “well, they will be real shortly.”
“Hey Lee?” said Mac. “Not to join Link on the killjoy wagon or anything, but assuming all goes according to plan… and we do make it off of the depot alive; we’re gonna be right smack dab in the middle of a first-class hornet’s nest when we hit open space. We got a plan for that?”
Lee sat up straight. “I’m countin’ on that, actually,” he assured her. “Think about it. We’ll be one Alystierian ship amidst dozens tryin’ to get outta Dodge before that thing goes up. Translation: complete mass hysteria, which should give us the cover we need to duck out through the chaos and rendezvous with the Praetorian in the next system. After that, if all goes to plan…” He paused to chuckle. “Well, after that, it’s Miller Time, boys and girls.”
“Okay, fearless leader, let me make sure I follow you on this,” Danny balked. “Phase One, we use an Alystierian shuttle to get us through security and onto the planet’s surface. Phase Two, we neutralize five service techs and take their place on the next outbound transpo for the depot, and Phase Three, we nuke the core and hope to get away without being discovered by the thousands of really big guns that’ll be trained squarely on us if we botch any of the above? That about right?”
“The Praetorian and a pair of other ships will be on standby to render assistance if we get jammed up on the way out, but yeah,” Lee confirmed. “That’s about the long and the short of it.”
“Three ships against a blockade? That’s great,” Link grumbled. “Really, I love this plan. I’m excited to be a part of it.”
“I don’t know about this, Lee,” Mac said, echoing Link’s Murray-esque skepticism. “Just out of curiosity, you said that one other team had made it to E-42, right?”
“Yeah, about a week ago.”
“Well obviously they didn’t finish the job, but exactly how far did they get?”
Lee pursed his lips. “Honestly, based on everything I know about E-42, they beat it… Only, they didn’t.”
“What does that even mean, Lee?” Hamish pressed. “Generally speaking, ya either beat the thing, in which case ‘kudos’ and roll credits, or ya didn’t, right? There’s usually not much to misinterpret.”
“So you’d think,” Lee replied. “They used a slightly different strategy than ours, but ultimately, they ran the gauntlet, destroyed the depot, and made it off alive. But for whatever reason, they still failed the mission, and nobody knows exactly why.”
“And there was nothing about this on the net?” Danny asked.
“Not a thing,” Lee said emphatically. “No fan chatter. No message forum posts. No blog speculation. Nothin’. I couldn’t even find the name of the team. It’s like someone went online and scrubbed any trace of these guys off the net—like it never even happened.”
“Weird,” Mac muttered.
“Did I miss something?” Link asked. “I mean, historically when you get knocked out of an environment, the game just sends you back to the beginning of the level to try again, right?”
“Usually, yeah,” said Lee.
“So you mean to tell me that these clowns came within a smidge of beating this thing, then just up and quit?”
“Apparently.”
“Dude,” Link mocked, “that’s like reaching the edge of the volcano and then saying ‘Screw the Shire and Rudy’s fat ass! I want the pretty, evil power-ring!’”
“Whatever,” Danny huffed. “Fact is, they did what they did just like we’re gonna do what we’re gonna do. Somebody’s obviously gone to a great deal of trouble to make sure that’s the case, so from where I sit, we buck up and roll on as planned. Not like we’ve got much choice.”
“Aye, Lee,” Hamish agreed. “I’m with Danny here. We’ve gotten this far because we did things our way. No sense in deviating from that now, so let’s do what we’ve come here to do and let the chips fall where they may.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Lee said, firing a glance to each of their faces on the monitor in front of him. “Everybody good with the plan? You know your marks and when to hit em’?” They nodded. “Well, alright then. If there are no other questions, let’s—”
“Hey guys, one more thing,” Mac interjected as Lee lowered his goggles over his eyes. “I’ve gotta come back to Tally this weekend to handle some bar business with my Dad. If by some miracle we actually pull this off tonight, what does everyone think about roadtripping it back home on Friday for drinks at the old place to celebrate?”
“I can so get onboard with that,” Link said miserably. “This last case really kicked me in the jewels, and an old-school Friday night at the bar sounds pretty friggin’ good right about now.”
“Splendid idea!” Hamish concurred. “Marvelous timing too. I’ve actually got to meet with one of ma distributors up there anyway, so I’ll look forward to it!”
“I’m already here, so naturally I’m in,” Danny said.
“Hey Danny, you can bring your hooker,” Link noted with a final jab.
“Link, you remember I’m a cop with a gun, right?”
“That just leaves you, Lee,” Mac quipped, leaning into her webcam for one final taunt. “You think you can b
reak away from your surfboard long enough to come home for drinks with your friends without going into salt water withdrawal?”
Never having much of a poker face, Lee’s undecided expression eventually slipped into a grin.
“There it is!” she crowed.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You’re buyin,’ Bar Wench!” Lee laughed. “Now if we’re done screwin’ around here, can we get down to business?”
****
A light blue haze obscured Lee’s view while the previous menu screen dissolved back into the briefing room scene from earlier. As the growing number of flight-suited pilots clamored in conversation around him, the room fell silent when a tall older man with silvery hair, hardened facial features, and dressed in an elaborately decorated, navy blue officer’s uniform entered through the back.
Watching him descend down the steps toward the podium below, Lee recognized the man instantly.
“As you were,” Fleet Admiral Markus Katahl commanded, before taking his position at the head of the room.
Watching the viewscreen behind him flicker to life with the familiar ASC insignia (a circular design featuring a brilliant golden Phoenix enclosed in a formal, navy blue banner with stylized gold writing), Lee couldn’t help but notice Katahl’s visibly exhausted state.
“Alright, people, before we get started, I’ve got some news, so listen up,” the admiral began, pausing for a moment as if to choose his next words carefully. “As many of you know, the settlement on Sygarious 3 went dark roughly 18 hours ago. After multiple attempts to reestablish contact, command dispatched a scout to the system last night to determine the problem.” Katahl’s rugged face darkened. “We were hopeful that it was a tech thing—maybe a faulty communications array, but initial telemetry from the scout confirmed that… that the entire colony has been lost.”
A collective gasp filled his ears and Lee spun around to see Lt. Williamson, one of the Praetorian’s newest rookie pilots, bury his face in his hands.
“Please bear in mind,” Katahl rushed to add, “as of this moment we have no idea what happened. The scout’s crew just touched down an hour ago, and all we know is that the colony itself has been destroyed.”
Mako (The Mako Saga: Book 1) Page 7