Traitor's Duty

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Traitor's Duty Page 13

by Richard Tongue


   “Ensign Cooper, report to the bridge,” his communicator barked unheralded.

   “On my way,” he replied, then said, “Sergeant Forrest, Lance-Sergeant Fuller, report to the shuttle deck with the platoon on the double, non-lethal tactical load-out.”

   He jogged to the elevator, stepping in and tapping out a priority override to take him up to the bridge. Even after the last couple of months, it still felt strange to be someone the Captain would summon personally; there was still quite a bit of the rookie Private deep inside him, astonished by the path his career had taken.

   The doors opened, and he stepped out onto the command deck, looking around the stations at the now-familiar officers. Captain Marshall at the heart of everything, naturally, and Caine standing at Tactical, Ryder, Steele, Weitzman, Spinelli – the usual alpha-team on duty ready to face whatever awaited them.

   “Emergence in two minutes,” Steele said. “All decks report ready to return to normal space.”

   “I still think we should be at battle stations,” Caine said, shaking her head. “This could cost us crucial seconds if there is someone waiting for us.”

   “Best we don’t appear too eager for a fight, Deadeye,” Marshall replied. “We’ll have time to react to anything small, and anything worse than that will be too strong for us anyway. Let’s just hope they decided not to spread themselves too thinly.”

   “Ninety seconds,” Steele said.

   “My platoon is standing by in the shuttle bay, Captain,” Cooper said. “We’re ready to go, non-lethal deployment.”

   “Good,” Marshall replied. “Let’s not forget that we’re all still wearing the same uniform. If we can just get to Mars and make our case to the Senate without opposition…”

   “Then we’ll be very lucky indeed,” Caine said. “I’m firing up the countermeasures, just in case, and Security has all the firewalls on full.”

   “The restrictions on exterior communications are still in effect, sir,” Weitzman said. “No-one can talk to anyone on the ship except through us, and this console is the only one that can send a transmission.”

   “Fifty seconds,” Steele said, tapping a control, “Helm to all stations. Stand by for emergence from hendecaspace. Secure for dimensional transfer.”

   Cooper looked at the gray screen, watching the clock count down, a mere observer as everyone else worked. Almost everyone; he saw the Captain’s fingers quietly tapping the side of his chair, his eyes fixed forward. The two of them shared the same problem, nothing to do but wait.

   “Transfer!” Steele said, and the stars returned to the screen, the purple clouds of Kumar dead-center, a few lights indicating the presence of the station and surrounding ships. Spinelli began to frantically work the sensor console as the tactical display snapped into position.

   “Negative threat warning. No fleet vessels anywhere in system, and the station is currently maintaining a neutral posture.” He looked up, relief showing on his face, and said, “Plenty of transports in the system, all of them in the holding pattern. I’d say we’re clear.”

   “We’re being hailed,” Weitzman said, a smile creeping across his face, “Senior Lieutenant Thomas Watson wants to speak to you.”

   Ryder turned from her station, and said, “He’s gone down in the world, skipper.”

   “The one that had been picked to take over Alamo,” Caine said. “Interesting.”

   “I guess this is his punishment for letting us get away.”

   “No chance that there could be anything behind Kumar?” Marshall asked.

   “I don’t think so, sir. I’ve got images from satellites behind the gas giant.” He frowned, then said, “There’s always a chance that we’d be getting false readings, but there are no indications that they are being tampered with, and I’d probably be able to tell.”

   “Besides,” Ryder added, “They’d have no way of knowing which hendecaspace point we’d use to come in, and if we’d used the other one, the concealed area would be a lot different.”

   “Lieutenant Watson is still calling, sir. Wants to speak to Captain Winter.”

   “No point bothering Logan,” Marshall replied with a smile. “I’ll talk to him.” Tapping a button, he said, “This is Captain Marshall calling Spitfire Station. Effective immediately, I am assuming command of all fleet assets in system, under the Contingency Powers Act. Acknowledge.”

   “Captain Marshall?” the voice replied. “No matter. I have arrest warrants for Lieutenant-Captain Winter, Senior Lieutenants Ryder and Quinn, and twenty-six others. You will turn them over to me and prepare to transfer your ship to my command.”

   Leaning forward in his chair, Marshall replied, “Last time I looked at my shoulder insignia, I outranked you. Consider yourself under arrest for insubordination and place your Executive Officer in command.”

   Cooper moved over to his side, and whispered, “We could do with this one, sir.”

   “Can you grab him?”

   “If you can hold him for a little while, I’m sure we can arrange something.”

   “Very well.” Turning back to the screen, Marshall said, “My Espatier commander has suggested that a compromise might be in order.”

   “I cannot disobey lawful orders, sir, and with all due respect, neither can you.”

   Taking a deep breath, he said, “I want to see the arrest warrants, and all documentation, before I even consider this. That’s non-negotiable, Lieutenant, and I still intend to press charges of insubordination.”

   “That is your privilege, Captain. Data being transferred now.”

   Turning away from the screen, Marshall tapped a control to mute the sound, saying to Cooper, “I’ll tell him we’re sending over the prisoners. I don’t like sending you into a trap, because I’m damn sure he’ll be suspicious…”

   “It’ll be a sad-looking trap once we’ve found it, sir. Permission to permit Captain Winter to accompany us? We could use a native guide.”

   “Sir,” Ryder said, “I know that station like the back of my hand.”

   Glancing at her for a second, he nodded, and said, “On the understanding the Ensign Cooper has the command, I’ll allow it. Just be careful, Ryder. We’re short-handed enough already.”

   “Aye, sir,” she said, following Cooper into the elevator. As the doors slid shut, she said, “Think I was going to miss out on the fun? It’ll be nice to have words with that bastard with a platoon of Espatiers at my back.”

   “This isn’t personal, ma’am. We’re here on business, not pleasure.”

   “Understood, Ensign,” she said, impatiently. “I know they cleaned house at the station pretty comprehensively, but there are likely to be a few people there who remember me. Our priority has to be getting to Operations.”

   “Top end of the station, right? We’ll get the shuttle docked as close as possible.”

   “Damn right you will,” she replied. “I’ll be flying it.”

   The doors opened as she was speaking, and Logan stood at the threshold, saying, “Good, that’ll save me the trouble.”

   “You’re going with us as well?” Cooper asked.

   “You’ve got room on the shuttles,” Logan replied, “and I could do with getting myself infiltrated as quickly as possible. This is where I get off the train.”

   “Captain Marshall…”

   “Approved this before we left Hades. Come on.”

   As Cooper walked over to his platoon, he saw Lieutenant Esposito standing with them, and snapped to attention, saying, “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I thought…”

   “I’m here with Logan, Ensign. You’re still in command.”

   Glancing across at a bemused Forrest, Cooper replied, “Yes, ma’am.” Turning to the platoon, he said, “What are you guys waiting for? Let’s get on the move. Remember, non-lethal only.”

   “Aye, sir,” Forrest said with a hint of a wink. Cooper knew th
at the veteran trooper had a concealed pistol somewhere on him, probably of the same type as the one he was carrying. At least he could trust him to use it with caution and discrimination; some of the other troopers had yet to master that skill.

   Stepping onto the first shuttle, he sat down next to the airlock, checking over the gear that Sergeant Forrest had stowed for him. Taser, tranq rifle, smoke grenades. Quite a combination for assaulting a key military space station.

   “Listen up,” he said to the squad as the shuttle started its launch sequence. “We don’t know what we’re going to find over there, so expect the worst. Full tactical deployment once we hit the station, and don’t stop and wait for the welcoming party. Get right into cover, and then strike for Operations in fire teams. Got that?”

   A chorus of confirmation echoed around the cabin, and a few seconds later over his communicator from the other shuttle following to their rear. The engines kicked in, pushing him back against his chair for a second while he adjusted to the acceleration, the trajectory plotter lighting up on the monitors. Six minutes to the station, too damn long. Plenty of time to check his gear and get ready for the assault, but also lots of time to think about what they were doing and to tense up.

   He went over what he remembered of the layout of the station from the briefing, picturing it in his mind, and then remembered Logan’s warning that it didn’t bear much resemblance to the plans. They’d have a good two hundred meters to cover, even from where they were docking, and he didn’t have the first idea what was waiting for them at the other end, anything up to a full company, armed to the teeth.

   Looking around the cabin, he wondered what was in the mind of the men under his command. Anticipation, uncertainty, eagerness to get home? Some of them had been in combat situations for more than a year, been captives of the Cabal, and were still willing to make one last push to complete their mission. Not that he hadn’t thought that before. A part of him was beginning to wonder if they would ever get any peace, any end to it all.

   An amber light flashed on, and he rose from his seat, making his way over to the airlock as the shuttle completed terminal deceleration, thrusters slamming it to a standstill. His squad formed into position behind him, ready to burst out into the airlock as soon as the locks engaged. He hefted his taser, worryingly light, and checked the charge light one last time.

   With a loud clang, the shuttle lock linked up with the station, a green light flashed on, and the twin hatches slid open. Cooper dived through the airlock, weapon ready, and hurled for the nearest cover he could find on the far corridor. A figure moved down the corridor towards him, and with Forrest heading through the hatch, and vulnerable to attack, he aimed to take a shot.

   “Gabe! It’s me!” the voice yelled, and he realized that it was his wife floating down the corridor to him. “You’re all clear, I managed to divert them to another airlock.”

   He leapt forward and threw his arms around her, sending them both tumbling towards a wall while Forrest looked on, Lance-Corporal Lomax moving up beside him with a huge smirk on his face.

   “Sir, would you like a few moments alone?” Forrest asked.

   Breaking away, Cooper asked Barbara, “What’s going on over here?”

   “There was a squad on their way up here, but I don’t think their heart’s in it. They’re taking their time, and they were very willing to listen when I told them you were going another way.”

   Nodding, Cooper said, “That means they can’t be a part of the conspiracy. How did you get here?”

   “I’m AWOL, and I got here on a civilian transport under an assumed name. I only broke cover half an hour ago, and there are orders out to arrest me already.”

   “I wouldn’t worry about that, ma’am,” Forrest said.

   Throwing him a smile, she continued, “Watson’s up in Operations with a few midshipmen. No Espatier guards, though, I don’t think he trusts them.”

   “For once I’m glad to hear it.”

   Pushing through the squad, Ryder drifted out onto the station, frowning as she saw Barbara with her arm wrapped around Cooper’s waist. She gestured up the corridor.

   “That’s where the man we’re here to get is, Ensign. Let’s go and get him.”

   “You aren’t here to take the station?” Barbara asked.

   “Just snatch and grab, honey,” Cooper replied. “We’re not topping up or transferring. Captain Marshall doesn’t want to risk taking any saboteurs on board.”

   “Long as he doesn’t include me in that restriction.”

   “Stick with the shuttle. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.”

   This had to be the strangest start to a strike assault he’d ever taken part in, but Cooper’s squad moved into formation after a few meters, the second squad now drifting into position to the rear, fanning out to cover the entrances to adjacent compartments and corridors. There was no-one around, suspicious for the time of day, though he guessed that the word had gone around that the strike was happening, and no-one was willing to do something stupid for Watson.

   Standing at the entrance to Operations was a lone guard, his sidearm securely placed in his holster, his arms crossed. When he saw Cooper and his men approach, he pointed his finger at them with a smile on his face.

   “Bang,” he said. Then, clutching his chest, he continued, “Argh. You got me.” Pushing over to one side, he continued, “Help yourself. I’m not fighting fellow Espatiers for anyone, and I guess you feel the same way.”

   “Carry on, Corporal,” Cooper said, moving through the door into the control deck, his taser in his hand. Waiting on the far side was Watson, a trio of panicking midshipmen hurriedly purging records from the local database, who froze as his squad entered the room.

   “Ensign Cooper, you and your men will surrender immediately,” he began, turning towards a control panel.

   “Sergeant,” Cooper said, and four guns fired, sending tranq darts into the four officers, the drugs kicking in instantly to send them convulsing, spinning wildly around in the air.

   “Do we take all of them, sir?” Forrest asked.

   “Might as well make this as clean a sweep as possible, Sergeant,” he replied. He drifted over to the control panel and tapped a button, saying, “Will the Executive Officer please report to Operations in ten minutes. Ten minutes, no sooner. That is all.” With a grin, he said, “That should settle that nicely.”

   Lomax moved over to the database and slid in a datastick before turning back to Cooper, a frown on his face, and saying, “All deleted, sir, I’m afraid. We’d have to do a take and hold if you want our spooks to reconstruct it.”

   “I don’t think we have the resources, Corporal, and I’ve conquered enough space stations for this month. Turn off the external sensors, and we’ll get the hell out of here.” He looked around, and said, “Pity. I hear the nightlife around here’s pretty good. By the numbers, people,” he said, as his squad filed out of the room, back towards the shuttle.

  Chapter 16

   Logan watched the squad he had accompanied to the station drift off down the corridor, and after a moment turned away, moving up into one of the maintenance shafts. He didn’t have any particular destination in mind at the moment, just out of the way for a while, giving Cooper and his team enough time to finish their job and get back to Alamo. Esposito was following him at a discrete distance, under instructions to find a different path to their mutual destination.

   The shaft was empty, all the way down the long axis of the station, and he drifted leisurely down towards the rear areas. He had plenty of contacts among the civilian population, and one of those in particular in mind. After twenty minutes, sirens began to sound, and he paused at a terminal, plugging in his datapad and getting a local status report. Apparently someone had abducted the station’s commanding officer, person or persons unknown. Which rather suggested which side the new commander of the station was on.

 
 Right now, the local security had a lot of problems on their hands, and they weren’t going to pay any attention to a single spacehand drifting around the concourse, so he cautiously drifted down out of a nearby hatch, heading back into the traffic flow. This was more the station he remembered, crowds of people working their way between the stalls, arguments and debates in a dozen languages babbling through the air. Lilith’s was still there, the bright neon sign flickering on and off, a bouncer hovering in front of the entrance.

   “No admissions,” the bouncer said, looking at him. “I doubt you could afford it.”

   “Tell Lilith Logan wants to speak to her,” he replied with a smile. “And that I think they’re seeing through my disguise.”

   “I’ve heard that before. Just another groupie. Get out.”

   “It’s a pity that you’re planning on taking this attitude,” Logan said, drifting leisurely towards him. “Are you sure that I can’t change your mind?”

   “Beat it.”

   “Whatever you say,” Logan said, pulling out his datapad and entering a security code. The local fire suppression system activated, sending a burst of foam at high pressure into the man’s chest, sending him tumbling to the wall. Taking the opportunity, Logan pushed past, swinging over the threshold into a bar empty enough that the bouncer must have been paid to prevent him from entering, and he upgraded the urgency of his timetable accordingly.

   Ignoring the look he received from the bartender, he swooped over the counter and through the door at the back, heading directly for Lilith’s office. Not wanting to wait, he tapped in an access code he wasn’t supposed to know, and the door slid open to reveal the woman herself behind a desk, a shady-looking individual in front of her.

   “Logan!” she yelled, and the man turned; acting on instinct, Logan pulled his pistol from the concealed holster in his pocket, leveling it at the stranger.

 

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