The Last Spartan 2: DJ's Mission

by A. E. McCullough

  Iaido scratched his chin.

  “As part of your cover, you’re chasing a mark which goes by the name of El Gato. He’s an ex-spy turned thief who specializes in high-end valuables and secrets. Everything we have on him is included in the dossier. He of course isn’t your priority but if you do catch him, the bounty of two-hundred and fifty thousand credits is yours. When you get to Titan, go to a casino named Mocha Delights and see the owner. Give him the data crystal included with your armor. Just tell him that you’re calling in a favor. He owes me. Of course, if he asks anything about the past, just be vague and he shouldn’t know that you aren’t me since he never saw me without the armor. Which reminds me, it would be best if you never remove your helmet around anyone; it lends ambiguity to the persona and will help protect your identity.”

  Iaido took a deep breath. “There’s not much else to say but good hunting. And don’t forget that if you fail to plan, then you plan to fail. Semper Fi, my friend, Semper Fi.”

  As the message ended, DJ shook his head. Once again Iaido surprised him. He was right, if he wasn’t in such a bind with the massive task facing him, he would never have accepted these gifts. As it was, they might be the only way to rescue his daughter and not land back in prison. Picking up the datapads, DJ began to read through the files. Iaido’s farewell message was a not too subtle hint cautioning him about not charging in.

  He would not, could not fail…not with Kaitlyn’s welfare on the line. Failure was not an option.

  Chapter 4

  As the United Nations Coalition Fleet transport docked on Titan, one of the numerous moons of Saturn and the most populated, two officers in UNCF Fleet formal dress blues stepped off and looked around. Compared to Starbase Alpha, their last duty station which was in a geo-synchronistic orbit around Earth, the Saturn Starport looked deserted. It wasn’t really but compared to Starbase Alpha which boasts approximately three-hundred thousand people on a daily basis, the ten thousand people which lived and worked on Titan looked empty.

  One of the first things they both noticed was that everyone they saw, from the maintenance worker cleaning the trash receptacles nearby to the custom agent which had glanced at their credentials and waved them through, was armed, just a subtle reminder that they were no longer in orbit around Earth.

  The pretty blonde lieutenant with slight freckles and a button nose cleared her throat to politely get her commander’s attention.

  Commander Alexander Cline looked up from the datapad he was reading. “Yes lieutenant?”

  “Permission to speak freely sir?”

  “Of course, what’s on your mind Evans?”

  Lt. Virginia Evans tried her best to appear confident when she asked, “Why am I here?”

  As Cmdr. Cline started moving through the starport, Lt. Evans immediately matched his pace. After a few moments when no one was nearby, the captain took off his glasses and began cleaning them with a bright white handkerchief.

  “I thought you would’ve read your briefing. Well no matter, we are here to ascertain why the Dreadnaught program is behind schedule and over budget. The Horus is scheduled for christening in just over ten months but projected reports put it at double that and the ‘powers that be’ want to know why.”

  Lt. Evans nodded. “I understand all that, sir. I was asking why am I here? I mean, why did you choose me for this detail?”

  Cmdr. Cline replaced his glasses and smiled. “Oh. That is simple. On the night of the assassination attempt you impressed me, not only with your quick thinking, calm mannerisms and thorough knowledge of regulations and tactics but you also had the tenacity to put me in my place when I tried to micro-manage the situation. And to top that off, you did it with tact. Don’t think I, and others in positions of influence, didn’t notice.”

  Lt. Evans looked shocked at the admission. Sure, she got a rare field promotion that night but she was certain her harsh words and brusque mannerisms were going to come back and haunt her. Now her commander was telling her that it actually endeared her to some on the Command Staff. She forced herself to focus back on the commander as he began talking again.

  “Your no-nonsense attitude and knack for getting to the heart of the problem could prove to be very valuable during this mission. Besides you have a certain, if I can be so blunt, sweet and innocent look which hides a backbone of steel. The combination could very well aid this investigation.”

  Subconsciously, Lt. Evans pulled her shoulders back slightly as she walked. It was a good feeling to be recognized for being yourself. “I will do my best, sir.”

  “I know you will, but if I can continue to be so bold, I would prefer you to act like the stereotypical blonde anytime we are around Titan Avionics executives. Be clumsy, flirty, anything but yourself. Make sure they don’t see you as a threat.”

  As they stepped onto a moving sidewalk and stopped walking Lt. Evans fidgeted with her hair for a moment. “That is a strange request, sir.”

  “Be extremely subtle, even to the point of formlessness. Be extremely mysterious, even to the point of soundlessness. Thereby you can be the director of the opponent's fate.”

  Lt. Evans turned and faced her commander. “What was that?”

  Cmdr. Cline grinned. “It’s a quote from the Art of War, written sometime in the sixth century by the legendary general Sun Tzu.”

  Lt. Evans nodded. “I think I understand, sir. You want them to underestimate me so they might let something slip that they otherwise wouldn’t. Good plan.” She absentmindedly toyed with a stray strand of hair before asking, “When is our meeting with Titan Avionics?”

  Cmdr. Cline checked his chronometer and made a slight adjustment. “We meet the Titian Avionics shuttle in two hours at ten-hundred hours local time, which gives us just enough time to check in with the local law enforcement and Coalition command.”

  “Aye, aye sir.”

  “One more thing, from this moment on always assume that someone is watching or listening to everything we do or say.”

  Lt. Evans shook her head slightly. “This is some real super spy stuff you have dragged me into…sir.”

  “True, but I think you’re up to the task.”

  “I won’t let you down, sir.”

  * * * * *

  As the gangplank slowly lowered until it touched the deck of the Saturn Starport, SWAT Officer Tim ‘Spike’ Ernspiker studied the passengers with an experienced eye. Even though he’d spent the last sixteen hours on the same transport with them and he hadn’t seen anything that might warrant such scrutiny, he knew this was a prime opportunity for an attack. Only a zealot bent on pure suicide would’ve attacked the Councilor during the flight from New Atlanta to Titan. A truly professional assassin would wait until they touched down and make a blitz attack, hence the heightened vigilance.

  Spike hazarded a quick glance over his shoulder at his partner to find that fellow SWAT Officer William ‘Sponge Bob’ Spurgeon was standing between the opening doorway and the Councilor, much to her dismay. Neither of them had asked for this assignment, but when you’re a simple grunt, you follow orders especially when they came from the President of the Coalition.

  Following the foiled assassination, their whole team had been put on TAD – Temporary Active Duty – and reassigned to the Presidential Protection Detail. That was eight months ago. In that time, Spike and Sponge Bob had become the President’s favorite bodyguards. Spike knew that the agents of the newly reformed Secret Service were still jealous of the TAD police officers but when the President speaks, those in the government listen and here they were.

  Councilor Teana Carpenter took a deep breath and sighed loudly. She wasn’t happy about having to hide behind the pair of SWAT officers the President had assigned to protect her. After all she was a retired agent with the FSA – Federal Security Agency. Of course, he had just recently lost two thirds of his High Council in the assassination attempt and had heightened security for all his cabinet members. Logically she understood their role but that didn’
t mean she had to like it. Since neither officer moved or even acknowledged her displeasure, she began to tap her foot as another sign of her impatience.

  After several minutes, Spurgeon grunted his ‘all clear’ over his sub-vocal microphone and moved to the side.

  Councilor Carpenter stepped to the front and gazed down the gangplank. At the end was her welcoming committee and the beginning of three long days of politicking.

  * * * * *

  The Aetós came out of hyperspace when they were within thirty minutes of landing on Saturn.

  Aeolus had explained in transit that all ships were required to dock and be inspected at the Saturn Galactic Starport on Titan. From there, shuttles and taxis would transport anyone to the settlements of Titan or other moons within the Saturnian System.

  According to the files uploaded by Iaido and supplemented by Aeolus and UR-L8, Titan Avionics completely controlled this region. Technically there was a police force, the Saturn Sheriffs or SS for short. But when DJ saw the emblem used by the Saturn Sheriffs, a very stylized double S which looked more like twin lightning bolts than letters, he immediately thought of the early twentieth century Nazi Germany military organization which used a similar symbol known as the Schutzstaffel. Loosely translated from the archaic language of German meant Protection Squadron, they became the iron fist wielded by Adolph Hitler and his National Socialism party in the mid-twentieth century. The SS and the Nazis were credited with some of the greatest atrocities of any war in Terran history, including those committed by the Unified Islamic Nations during their Jihad against the Coalition in the last century. Any organization that would take an emblem with such a bloody history would best be avoided. Unfortunately, DJ knew that with his current mission he would have to deal with them in one aspect or other.

  “Aeolus, what can you tell me about the Saturn Sheriffs?”

  “Accessing. The Saturn Sheriffs is a small independent police force which was formed just over twenty-five years ago as a volunteer organization when the crime rate on Titan began to rise after the influx of settlers. At the time they were known as the Titan Constables. Twenty-two years ago, they reformed under Galactic Law as a Sheriff organization and held their first elections. Sheriff Tim Cunningham won the first election and held the office of Sheriff for five years until his death in the line of duty.”

  DJ did some calculations in his head. That would put it about seventeen years ago at the height of the war. “Why is his death significant?”

  Aeolus continued. “This was the first death of a law enforcement officer in the history of the settlement of Saturn and her moons. Secondly, his killer was never caught and thirdly, his death created an opening which was filled by an outsider. The current Sheriff Jeffery Kassinger was a veteran of the war who had been medically discharged and moved to Titan City about the same time. When the sheriff position came open, he ran for election with a very flashy and expensive campaign. He won the election by a narrow margin. That was the only time in the last seventeen years that he came even close to losing.”

  DJ pulled up the file on Sheriff Jeffery Kassinger.

  He had served in Fleet and his last duty station was the UNCF Arizona which was destroyed by friendly fire during the war. Punching in a different query, it seems that the retired Admiral Roger Thomas just so happened to be the commanding officer of the Arizona when it went down. Coincidence? He doubted it.

  “Anything else?”

  “According to records, within two years of Kassinger’s election the size of the Saturn Sheriffs tripled. Most of the original sheriffs chose to leave although exact employment records are unavailable. There are numerous complaints going back ten years concerning use of force issues. The Galactic Marshals investigated every claim but determined that the complaints were unfounded and false.”

  Considering what DJ knew about the recently disbanded Galactic Marshals, it seemed more likely that someone got paid off to make sure that they ruled in favor of the Saturn Sheriffs. Another question nagged him. “Have they always used the stylized lightning bolt double S for their symbol?”

  “Accessing. No, the originally design was a simple picture of the planet Saturn and its rings with their name above and below. The current design was adopted ten years ago, shortly after the armistice with the Confederacy.”

  DJ nodded. Once the war was over and the veterans began returning home, there would’ve been an influx of settlers and traffic to the system. According to Iaido, Titan Avionics is ultimately the power behind the Saturn Sheriffs and since they controlled the local media it would’ve been easy to slip a uniform and design change past the public, especially something so controversial.

  When Aeolus didn’t elaborate further, DJ turned his attention back to his cover story to make sure it was committed to memory. He had to smile at the creativity of his friend. Iaido had originally created a complete back story and credentials for his bounty hunter persona, Rote Falken. But with the imposter stepping in and seizing the name, he also had a whole string of marks that had been taken down that could be claimed.

  The only major difference between the two Falcons would be the ships. He had the Aetós, the Red Falcon’s original ship. DJ bet that if he looked at the registry of the Aetós, which he was certain the SS would do, it was in the name of Rote Falken. However, all the recent sightings of the Falcon were in a different ship. DJ found himself nodding as he looked over the stats on the imposter’s ship. According to Athena’s notes, the upstart Falcon was using a red and black Kestrel Mk3. They were a very reliable FALC – Fast Attack Landing Craft – with twin oscillating jet engines that made it fully capable for VTOL – vertical takeoff and landing - and STOL – short takeoff and landing capable. He’d ridden in a few during the war and had no complaints about the aircraft. He had a few complaints about some of the hellholes the Coalition dropped him in but that was another subject altogether.

  DJ turned his attention back to the data concerning his target and shook his head at the slip-up. He tapped his forehead several times as he repeated to himself…mark, mark, mark. Shooters have targets, bounty hunters have marks. It was just one of a few details he needed to get straight to pull off his cover story.

  Back to his mark. El Gato, translated from Spanish as The Cat. That was his mark’s nom de plume. Not much was known about him. It was assumed to a ‘him’ since El Gato was the masculine connotation of the title but couldn’t be confirmed since he’d never been captured. Iaido had a few leads and contacts listed for him to check out, supposedly for tracking down El Gato but in reality to set up his escape from Titan.

  Aeolus’ voice brought him out of his reverie.

  “Sergeant, if I could be so bold to suggest that you don your hunting armor since we will be docking in less than fifteen minutes. At Master Spartan’s direction, Epista’tis loaded your equipment in the aft compartment.”

  “You’re right. I do need to get ready.”

  When DJ opened the cabinet and he saw what was inside, he whistled.

  His new bounty hunter armor consisted of crimson colored chest plates, leggings, shoulders and arm plates over a black mesh suit that resembled a super high-tech chainmail. In addition, there seemed to be an exo-skeleton aspect that would run along his spine and to each extremity. Of course, there were matching boots and gauntlets to go with the armor.

  DJ immediately recognized it as a heavily modified version of CSA - Confederate Scout Armor. He’d gone up against them too many times during the war not to be familiar with the distinctive armor. He knew CSA wasn’t as advanced or fancy as Iaido’s ARC suit or as durable as his HAVOC-V armor but it had served the Confederate Infantry well during the war.

  Obviously it had also been altered. First to fit his considerable frame, at an even six foot but nearly three-hundred pounds, he was nowhere near the typical size of a scout. Secondly, the helmet had been tweaked to resemble and give the impression of a falcon or at least the upper beak of one. It also differed from the ARC or HAVOC helmet in th
e fact that it wasn’t a one piece helmet. The lower portion, or beak, could be removed to expose his mouth and chin. This was designed to allow the wearer to eat and drink easily without completely removing the helmet.

  Strapping the armor on, DJ noticed that it was still a bit snug. Another reminder to keep working on his diet but it didn’t seem to constrict his movement at all and was more comfortable than wearing a HAVOC suit. Pulling out the weapons belt, he noticed the twin powered gladii he’d been training with attached to the harness in addition to dual Graver Mk7s and plenty of ammo. As he slipped on the gauntlets, he noted a nozzle on the back of his right hand and a port on his left. It only took a moment for him to figure out that the right hand was the nozzle for a flame thrower and the left was the launching port for a net-gun; a non-lethal device that would be useful in capturing a mark. It seems that Iaido had thought of everything.

  “Your pardon Sergeant, we are on final approach.”

  “On my way to the cockpit and I guess for the duration of this op, you should call me Falken or Captain. It might take some time to get used to but I believe it’s appropriate given the circumstances.”

  “Yes sir, I have made such a notation in my memory banks.”

  “Good.”

  Climbing into the captain’s chair, DJ set his helmet on the ground next to him before locking himself into the five-point harness and looking out the window to take in the grandeur of Saturn’s rings. Even though he’d been through this region before, it didn’t matter; the view of the slowly spinning rings of Saturn was always a spectacular sight.

  His radio squealed as Saturn Approach Control – SAC - came on line. “Starship Aetós you are cleared for landing at docking bay seven. Upon landing, please taxi to the first available dock as we have several more ships on final.”

  DJ keyed his mic. “Will do SAC.”