The Movement of Pawns (Gravity Book 3)

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The Movement of Pawns (Gravity Book 3) Page 8

by Jeremy Kester


  Surprisingly she was out cold as he slid out from under her.

  “I stuck her with a tranquilizer,” Adrianna said, her eyes closed and not facing David. “You were already asleep and she was getting on my nerves, so I stabbed her with a tranq.”

  “How’d she end up on me?”

  “Don’t know. She was curled up with you shortly after I gave it to her. My guess is that she crawled up there. She’s a tough little bitch,” Adrianna remarked. “She likes you though.”

  David ignored the remark. Quietly, he sat down on the seat next to Adrianna. He took a good look at her. She still had her eyes closed. Once she opened them, he turned away. “I’ve heard your name many times before,” David said to her. “You were the one that survived the Yorktown incident before they covered it all up and made it into that transport accident.”

  She nodded. “Our bosses can do some sick things.” What she meant more was what they had made her do. David Hirl couldn’t know that though.

  Sensing an opportunity to ask, David inquired, “You seem a little more depressed for someone promoted to an operative after being supposedly killed in action. What is your deal? If you don’t mind me asking you.”

  Chuckling some, she looked over at the portly officer. She could tell that he had a few years on her and was very astute. How he couldn’t tell that tattooed girl’s fascination with him was amusing. “Let’s just say they used me for more than just rebranding the Yorktown, and that killed a piece of me.”

  “Well, they seem to do a lot of that,” he responded lightly. “I was part of the salvage team that came in and cleaned up. You were missing at that point. That monster,” he gruffly stated pointing to the sleeping 356Q, “went in and slaughtered every one of the privateers. Then I was assigned the mission to take it back to one of the secret outposts in Neptune orbit. Unfortunately, she got sidetracked trying to hunt down an old ghost.”

  Adrianna was curious as to whom he was talking about.

  David continued, “Anyway, a rogue operative was able to destroy the Yorktown after a massive information transfer. She barely got me out of there alive.”

  “That rogue operative was Haden Rachid. He disappeared years ago,” Adrianna explained morosely. “We loved each other. His ship was the one that crashed into the Yorktown. And now he is dead for sure.”

  “Are you sure? Did you see it happen? I lost a lot of good people on that ship.”

  “They did something to me that overrode my thinking when I finally saw him again, and I killed him.” Though she thought that she had cried enough over Haden to last her a lifetime, the words being repeated felt like knives in her throat. Tears began to flow down her cheeks again. “I want to kill them all for doing this to me,” she cried hoarsely.

  A mix of satisfaction and regret flowed through David’s thoughts. He had wanted the one responsible for the Yorktown’s destruction dead. He knew it. So many people he cared for were lost. All he had to show for it was the operative who saved him. But seeing the pain in the woman before him stirred his empathy. “Do you think that they are trying to restart the war?” David asked, somewhat thinking it would distract her, and perhaps it would distract him.

  Adrianna shrugged as she wiped her eyes as she sighed trying to regain her composure. “Of course. And we all just have to do our part. For the Alliance.”

  “For the Alliance,” David repeated, the words falling short of enthusiasm.

  Both commanders sat at the console, watching the emptiness of space before them, wondering how the events in the future would play out for them.

  Operations Transport Vessel

  “That didn’t take long,” David remarked as Adrianna handed him the sheetcom with his new assignment.

  “Your skills must be found useful elsewhere,” 356Q stated. Adrianna could have sworn that there was a hint of sadness to her tone.

  “And how far is the Eisenhower from us now?” David asked.

  “Wow. They are within an hour from rendezvousing with us. Why are they this far into Alliance space?” she knew the answer as soon as she asked it.

  David shrugged. “Must be war. They have me stepping in as the new XO, but it doesn’t say why. No point in wondering. Guess I’ll find out soon enough. What about you two.”

  “We go to Rhea. And that is all I can tell you.”

  356Q turned and walked away from Adrianna and David. Both saw it just out of the corner of their eyes. Adrianna knew what was going on. Despite being told earlier of the girl’s feelings for him, David didn’t suspect anything of it.

  “That’s fair enough,” he said. All that he could think was that he was glad to be rid of being around operatives… hopefully for good.

  It took 47 minutes and some number of seconds for the DASS Eisenhower to rendezvous and dock with Adrianna’s ship. David stood at attention in front of the airlock awaiting the light to flash that the seals were intact. Behind him, Adrianna handled the controls on her ship. 356Q was in a small room at the rear of the ship. She had been so since the moment the orders were given to them.

  “Eisenhower, I am showing an affirmative on the lock, we are clear for pressurization,” Adrianna said into the communications console.

  “We have that as an affirmative operative KΩ757, initiating pressurization now. Please inform the Commander Hirl that he is cleared to board.”

  “Understood.” A light changed on the console indicating that communications were severed. “Ready?” she asked to David.

  “No reason not to be,” he replied.

  “Aren’t you going to say goodbye to your lady?” There was a smile on Adrianna’s face that David didn’t turn to see.

  David sighed. “She’ll be fine. I would just rather get going.”

  As the door opened, David stepped forward to make the transference. As soon as he passed through, Adrianna cleared the airlock and departed. Answers awaited at Rhea.

  Rhea

  Capital Center

  Landon Sanders was standing over the station’s sensor array. Hours before, the deputy mayor of the colony had alerted him that there were security concerns over strange activity happening at the edge on Alliance space.

  “Exercises, I am sure,” Landon said dismissively thinking about the cup of coffee that he had left behind. It had been too hot else he would have been happy to gulp it down before coming there. Now the coffee would be too cold when he got back. He should have carried it with him, but he always ends up spilling it when he carries it.

  Alexandria frowned. She certainly did not share in the mayor’s assessment. “We should be precautious and tighten security. We should reactivate all of the station’s turrets.” Her tone was much more instructive than suggestive. Landon certainly understood it in that way. “Just to be safe,” Alexandria added at the last moment. The last statement did nothing to change her tone.

  The two had served together only a year. The previous deputy mayor died in a docking accident shortly before Alexandria had been elected to the post. Of course she was elected on a platform of balance as her views lay contrary to Landon’s own. He hated the results. A moderate would have been more tolerable rather than the counter Alexandria was. Everything that he did try to do she obstructed. It only last a few months though as the two became used to the others’ presence, learning to work together without fighting.

  But though they worked well together, compromise did not follow. Neither side gave the other any concessions.

  “I really don’t think that it’s necessary,” Landon explained. “They have these sorta things all of the time.”

  “So even though we had reports of increased attacked beyond the treaty barrier?”

  In the years following the Alliance withdrew, Rhea set itself up as a major defense port to keep the barrier intact as they felt it unlikely that the Alliance would show interest. Eventually Rhea shifted from defense to become a major trading facility. It was one of the first stops carrying supplies, legal or illegal, to and from the Alliance terri
tory. To flex its muscle despite losing the initial conflict, the Alliance tested that border constantly. Sometimes it coupled with an excuse to board ships and confiscate profit. Intimidation didn’t do anything though to deter trade.

  “We should still have enough active defense systems to repel an attack, I would not concern myself with those ships.”

  Alexandria tapped her foot impatiently. She did not share Landon’s confidence that it was just a normal exercise from the Alliance. Earlier in the day, she saw the reports of the smuggler caught attacking an Alliance ship. Nothing was mentioned about the location, but she could estimate that it had occurred in independent space. That was the latest in a string of lost ships and missing people from independent space. Then add in those new propaganda ads about that transport ship the Yorktown… Alexandria worried.

  “I don’t trust it,” she remarked as she stepped out of the room.

  Looking up as she left, Landon replied quietly, “you never trust anything, so it matters how?” She heard it, but that was no longer a battle worth fighting.

  Outside of the room, she leaned herself up against the wall next to the entrance. Out of her pocket she pulled out a small metal case. In it was a single cigarette, already half burned. In silence, she stared at the cigarette for a few moments. Just moments ago she had stubbed it out to its current state. She was trying to quit, but she found herself picking them up much more frequently than when she had not made that decision. Giving in, she pulled it out of the case reminding herself that she would have to get more the next time she was at the markets.

  She didn’t understand why Landon chose to ignore the ships. She had spent enough time after the war had ended in the scanner rooms, special rooms with around-the-clock surveillance of all border activity. She had seen the way that the Alliance completely ignored the outer worlds in the years following. Not one cruiser, frigate, or other vessel ever came to the border except to test it. Of course, when they were contacted, the Alliance would claim that the ships were performing an exercise. She knew different.

  The smoke filled her lungs, but she felt that she was not feeling the relaxing effects as easily as she had been long before she thought of quitting. But it was the only way that she found she could relax regardless. Nothing else seemed to have the same effect.

  “I thought you quit,” Landon’s voice suddenly appeared behind her in a lecturing tone.

  “Obviously not,” she retorted sarcastically.

  “Look, I don’t think that they are going to be atta-“

  “They’ve never cared about us, Landon!” she found herself yelling. “Years and years and they didn’t give a fuck! Now they keep gathering more and more ships here and you believe that it’s an exercise?! We’re all going to fucking die, Landon.” Her hand was shaking causing ash to fall to the floor. She saw it and tried to brush it away with her foot.

  Landon sighed and looked away from his counterpart. He knew why she was so agitated: her family was killed during the initial conflicts. They were Alliance sympathetics who were killed during one of the Alliance raids. Instead of being simply listed as collateral damage, her family and the others that died were labeled as terrorists. Alexandria was a pariah and an orphan due to the Alliance. It was why she had voluntarily spent so much time monitoring the activity on the border of the territories.

  His experience never indicated any concern though. The negotiations that he has had with the Alliance President were always cordial. Why would that change?

  Rhea

  Housing Sector 43A

  Adrianna peeked around the corner. There was no one moving up the street. She wasn’t concerned about anyone other than Kyle. She didn’t want him seeing her unless it was on her terms.

  Quickly, she moved herself around and started walking straight towards Kyle’s apartment. She looked around periodically to make it look as though she was looking for an address to keep those who didn’t recognize her from being too intrusive. Her memory from when she had been ‘rescued’ by him was serving her well. Both had travelled through the station to board his ship for her exchange. Memorizing the path served to give her a compass, a starting-off point. She felt that if she got herself into trouble, she could find her way back here to start again.

  As she walked she felt a tingling in her arm. The sensation made her think of the micro-processors travelling inside of her. What could have been dry skin, it only reminded Adrianna of what had occurred, of what she was there for.

  Each turn she made had to be checked for signs of Kyle. Each turn she was able to continue on. Once she reached the entryway to his apartment, she paused. Reaching the door had not been part of her plan. Only finding Kyle was the plan. She felt foolish. Knocking on the door was equally foolish, but she did so anyway.

  No answer.

  Several moments passed before she tried the door on her own. Most of the doors were magnetic locks activated much like door handles of old. In fact much of the architecture in this sector of Rhea appeared to match early 21st century Earth. It was as though it were a fad when they were building these colonies. Though the technology was widely available and still reasonably cheap despite the difficulty in supply, builders opted to move towards ‘less civilized’ housing. Not much truly had changed regardless, so more was in the shape. Doors also swung to open instead of sliding into the wall. In some cases, such design fooled those who weren’t used to it.

  As she pushed the handle, nothing occurred. Adrianna nearly laughed at herself thinking that Kyle would have been trustworthy enough to leave the apartment accessible if he weren’t there.

  “I’m wasting my time here,” she admitted aloud as she turned and crossed the street. A few small vehicles passed as she walked. They were no threat to her. Most drove themselves and operated making millions of calculations a second optioning the safest and most effective route. They would avoid her, if only by centimeters.

  Across from Kyle’s apartment building was a small park. It was unoccupied at the time, something built expecting children to be of a larger percentage of the population. Quite to the contrary, families tended to settle elsewhere in the colonies of Rhea, many near the places that employed the parents.

  The park would make a good landmark to hide beyond. Having an adult standing in a playground without a child would have been an unusual site, but there was good cover there. It would be easy to hide.

  For a short while she watched as the residents tended to their daily lives. She thought nothing of them or who they were. Each person, she would acknowledge that they were not Kyle and move on, perhaps only watching them a few moments more. Her mind was too focused on finding him. It was as though nothing else mattered.

  Rhea

  Defense Systems Center – Near Sector 43

  Kyle Weathers looked at his watch. He was waiting for the right time to execute his part of the plan.

  Months of work from others went into setting up this event. The plans were put in place before there was even means to execute them. Once the Alliance had abandoned the outer worlds, these strategies were initiated as to help secure the edge the next time the Alliance was to push forward with an invasion.

  Disabling the defense systems should be relatively easy. At least Kyle thought so. There had been minimal additions to the structures since the initial retreat of Alliance forces. Most of the infrastructure was left the way it had been on Retreat Day. Only recently had enough money poured into the outer worlds allowing for improvements to be made.

  Looking at his watch again, the time hit the moment he needed. With a quick step forward he ducked into the control room. No one watched the room. The control room had been automated for years, with someone monitoring the system from a remote area. It was necessary since the control servers were all tucked away nearly a mile underground.

  It was hot and noisy. Even with the large volume of air being pulled through, being in the room was uncomfortable.

  Wiping the sweat from his brow, he searched up and down the a
isles until he could find the control systems he was looking for. They wouldn’t be too unlike the other which made them a little trickier.

  There were large volumes of hot air being pulled from the area. To counter this, cool air was being funneled in equally great volumes to bring the temperature to a manageable level. The servers, controllers, and other equipment though appeared to neutralize any cooler temperate that was being brought in. Nothing seemed to work, but eventually it was realized that at least the equipment didn’t appear to suffer.

  One of the other countermeasures that they had tried to bring temperatures down was to pass the tubes outside of the station in order to dissipate warmth to the near 0 kelvin temperatures of space. All that function accomplished was lowering the costs of cooling the air being used.

  Kyle felt laggard as he moved along. Oxygen was also kept low in the room, though it was a fact that was largely ignored when Kyle ran through his information. Low oxygen meant lowered fire risk as well as lower security threats as people found it difficult to breathe. Kyle was certainly feeling how that was effective.

  Before long he stopped glaring at the controls in front of him. He was sure that they were it, but the oxygen was less available to his brain. Vision suffered. He was breathing more quickly, trying as much as he could to bring in air.

  “No wonder,” he coughed aloud as he thought of the genius in the design. He simultaneously cursed himself for not paying attention to the parameters he was given, though it would have been difficult to discern as they were haphazard at best.

  Squeezing his eyes trying to focus, he pulled up the holographic displays. A small, dark cross was what he was looking for. It would be difficult to find unless it was being looked for.

  He cursed again as he yawned. “Dammit, dammit, dammit,” he repeated in frustration. His vision was becoming increasingly blurry. If he wanted to survive, he would have to find air.

 

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