by Bill Roberts
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, how can she be so calm about all this? I study her closely as she sits across from us. I remember what she said about being tortured and volunteering for danger. It is something I am all too familiar with. She really does not care. I have seen it before, in myself at times, in some of my Marines. Sometimes, you lose too much, or you see too much death and destruction. When that happens it burns you up inside. In the emptiness that remains all you have left is hunting those responsible. So you keep fighting, but you do not care if you survive. If you die at least the pain will be over. My God, Cait has been living like this for decades.
I look over at Bennie. His face is tight. He has most likely come to the same conclusion. It is not his first time seeing this either. In a very careful voice he says: “Cait, that’s a wretched way to live. Why do you keep doing it?”
She leans back into her chair and replies evenly: “So is endlessly dropping on hostile planets, Benedict.” She pauses for a moment and looks at Bennie seriously. “Why do you keep dropping? I do this because it is just who I am. I have seen the terrible things this Galaxy holds. I will do this until they are all rooted out and destroyed or I die.” Again the casual shoulder shrug. “So far I have been far better at the rooting out part than the dying part. Hopefully that will continue.”
Bennie looks ready to argue, but he shrugs his shoulders in reply leans back and replies: “I will simply agree that we are both crazy. But, when we defeat the Tangul I will have more to say about this.”
Cait smiles slightly and replies: “When the Tangul are defeated I will listen to what you have to say.” She leans forward and continues: “But that is for the future, right now I need your help. Most of my smuggling empire is full of common criminals I have hired along the way. But the core is a group of Invisibles. None of them were on this rock when you dropped. They are all on the Deeken world of Dystan where I have my headquarters.” Her voice lowers and she continues: “I need to get them out. They are very likely compromised and are living on borrowed time.”
“How do you know they are compromised?” Bennie asks.
“In order to explain that you need more background,” she replies. She holds up a hand to let us know she is thinking and to keep our peace. After a couple of moments she continues: “Initially I came to this section of space so I could gain information on pirate operations and patterns. I would provide this information to MoI and they would use it to feed preemptive strikes against pirate bases. But it only took a while to realize that the Tangul are pulling all of the strings. Once my fellow Invisibles and I figured that out we set about trying to cock up their operations as much as possible. Quietly of course, always done indirectly. That is what brought me out here to this rock. I was going to give this group of pirates a large amount of weapons in exchange for them hitting another pirate base I believe Tangul External Security is operating out of.” She flashes a shark-like smile and adds: “I was then going to feed this base location to MoD and tie up my loose ends.”
“I think I follow,” I say. “The fact that you got hit in the middle of the deal means the Tangul are on to you.”
“Precisely,” Cait replies.
“Wait. Why do you think the Tangul manipulated us in to coming here?” Bennie interrupts.
Cait responds: “I can probably guess, but you will have to confirm it for me. What source gave you this pirate base location?”
Bennie answers: “Elowynn trader said they saw it as they folded through here … ahh, I see. They never came through here. Tangul External Security gave the location to them, and bribed them to keep quiet about how they came by the information.”
“I believe that is the most likely explanation. Either way, in this business there is no such thing as being paranoid,” Cait responds.
“Well we can’t just take the Task Group into Deeken space,” I say. “It would drive every Deeken in the Galaxy against humanity. Not to mention the Tangul could use it for a Cassus Belli.”
“I already have a plan for that,” Cait replies. She leans back, steeples her hands, and continues: “Here is what I propose…” As she lays out her plan I am impressed by two things. First, just how clever Cait is. The plan is simple, yet elegant. Second, just how ruthless Cait is. Her plan cares about one thing and one thing only. Saving her fellow Invisibles. If anybody gets in the way of that she will crush them like bugs with absolutely no compunction or regrets, which, come to think of it, is fine by me.
The freighter completes its fold and the planet of Dystan fills the windows of the bridge. The crew of the freighter is all United Humanity Navy now. That had not been the case yesterday. Yesterday the Golden Hind had been one of the myriad of freighters crewed by criminals of Cait’s smuggling empire. The crew had been mostly human, but there had been a couple of Ssahar aboard. It had not mattered what their origins were. They were all guilty of supporting piracy.
Like the old times on Earth a ship’s captain had the power to try and execute pirates immediately upon capture. Normally a ship’s captain would turn over pirates to the Elowynn for trial, but in this case the Commodore had exercised that privilege. With a fair amount of pleasure, truth be told. Nobody likes pirates. They are murdering, pillaging scum. I remember the first time I came upon an Elowynn settlement that had been raided by the Deeken. They had killed everyone they could, even the children. People like that deserve no sympathy.
We had taken the Golden Hind, because Cait had known exactly where it was, and she had known that the crew aboard her was a bunch of scum we could conveniently eliminate. I look over at her sitting calmly in the captain’s chair. I suspect that she had felt no need to justify their deaths beyond the fact that they were in her way. I remember my Nietzsche: He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster. And when you gaze long into an abyss the abyss also gazes into you. I watch Cait direct one of the Navy crewmembers to open a communication channel with the planet. There is no doubt in my mind that Cait has looked into the abyss for far too long. Please God, let Bennie help her away from the edge.
With the communication channel open Cait says: “Dystan landing control, this is the Golden Hind, Captain Drake commanding. I request permission to land at Korvar Landing Field to transship cargo.” The communications system translates her English in to the growls and barks of the Deeken language.
In turn the system translates the Dystan controller’s reply: “Provide your bill of lading and standby for clearance.”
Cait nods at one of the sailors and the sailor hits several buttons on the communications system. This should not take long. Cait has been bribing Dystan customs so long her ships come and go whenever, with whatever they want. Still, I am out of my comfort zone here. As the minutes creep by I start to worry that maybe the Tangul have gotten to Dystan customs. I look over at Bennie standing next to me and can see that perhaps the same thought is occurring to him. I look back at Cait. She is displaying as much emotion as a glacier.
The communication comes to life: “You are cleared for landing. Bay 42. Do not deviate from course two seven five mark zero three zero.”
“Understood Dystan control,” Cait says. She makes a cutting motion with her hand and the sailor at the communication station shuts down the channel. That done Cait continues: “Helmsman, follow the course provided.” She turns to a United Humanity Navy commander to her left. “You have the conn, Commander. Stay with the plan. I will contact you if we need to alter it.”
Cait leaves the captain’s chair and the commander replaces her in it. Once seated she says: “This is Commander Nguyen, I have the conn.” Nguyen looks confident and in control. That is nothing but years of experience and training. She has no idea what is actually going on. I look around the bridge. None of them have any idea what is really going on. It is a bizarre crew, half of them are three ranks senior to a sailor that would have normally done what they are doing. The other
half are filling jobs that are outside of their normal job description. Of course when you have to make a crew from only people with Top Secret clearances things like this are bound to happen.
After Cait briefed Bennie and me on the plan we had figured out what the minimum amount of information the Commodore would need to know to support it. We determined that all the other members of the Task Group needed to know was where to capture the Golden Hind, the fact that they needed to crew it and the fact they needed to throw in a platoon of Marine infantry in their MCS’s for security. Oh and all of the people provided needed Top Secret clearances. The Commodore had not been pleased. She had no desire to send her people haring off God knows where to do God knows what. Furthermore, there was the minor point that we were taking a ton of her limited number of people with Top Secret clearances. The Commodore made Bennie and I swear that we would take care of whoever she gave us. We had done so of course and had received all of the support we requested, but still I got the impression that Commodore Brigitte Duquesne would love to send Cait out of the airlock and forget she ever existed.
Once aboard the Golden Hind we gave a little more information to the Sailors and Marines supporting us. Not much, just a very simplified version of the plan, but even with that Cait added that everything she told them was Top Secret and nobody they knew had the need to know to ever be told about it. She also added that if they ever told anybody she would find them and kill them. Nobody complained. In fact I saw a few smiles. They all knew that whatever they had gotten into had spook written all over it. Who does not want to part of some skullduggery at least once in their life? Also I do not think any of them realized that when Cait threatened to kill them, she both meant it, and was fully capable of delivering on that threat.
The ship is descending precipitously now. Cait looks over at me and Bennie and says: “If you two would follow me to the personnel ramp please.” She then turns and heads for the hatch at the rear of the bridge. Bennie and I follow. We wind through the passageways of the ship and after a minute or so end up at the personnel ramp. This area is empty. Cait turns to us and says: “Just stick with the plan. Follow my lead and pay attention. You have no experience in this kind of battlefield, remember that. But also remember that if fighting breaks out your combat experience and instincts are perfectly valid.” We both nod. “Remember Deeken only respect strength. You will be taller than them, but they will out mass you. Keep your weapons conspicuously in view and if one of them bumps into you punch them for all your worth.” We both nod again. “There are a handful of humans here so you are not a complete oddity, but the young males will see in you a potential to score influence points. You can tell the young males by the pale rings along their snout.” Again we both nod. “Well, that’s it for now. Don’t cock it up.”
I can feel the freighter start its landing cycle. I run a quick check of my gear. To the Deeken bare flesh is a sign of weakness or sickness. They wear little clothing, but being covered in fur the only time they have bare skin is a result of severe injury or disease. Humans, then, had to cover as much of their skin as possible or invite trouble on a Deeken world. The covering for humans that seems to work best in Deeken culture is something that is as skin-tight as possible. Using the 3D printers aboard the Quincy we had all made ballistic skin tight black clothing. The three of us wear black, long-sleeve turtlenecks and trousers that feel like they are painted on. They are complemented with tight fitting gloves and calf high boots. A lifetime ago this outfit would have looked terrible on me. I had never been the skinniest of persons. But, after over thirty years of nanites I am pretty well built, so I imagine I look okay. Well except for the fact that the damn pants are tight in the crotch. I look over at Cait. On any other woman the outfit would inspire some seriously impure thoughts. But I know too much about her to find her attractive, no matter what she wears.
For weapons we each sport three of the standard issue M11 pistols. The M11 is a large pistol that shoots three millimeter projectiles at about ten thousand meters per second using a small electromagnetic system. I carry one every time I drop on a planet that supports human life. I can ostensibly use it to protect myself if I have to abandon my Kodiak. We carry three today, because a massive display of weapons is part of Deeken culture. Not being ostentatiously armed invites trouble. I sport one on each hip and one on a harness on my chest. Cait has estimated our odds of getting in a fight as remote, but real. I would like to say that I am ready for one, but that would be a lie. I fervently hope it does not come to that. I estimate my odds of surviving a scrap armed only with pistols and a knowledge of judo to be something like a really big number to one.
The ship settles down and after a few moments the ramp drops. It is daytime outside and the red giant that Dystan orbits fills the air with its slightly ruddy light. The air stinks of ozone and burnt rubber. Just like every other spaceport I have ever been to. Cait leads us down the ramp and I come face to face with Deeken for the first time in my life. They look kind of like squat bears. They are bipedal, with short stubby legs and short feet. Their arms are very long and end in huge four fingered hands. Their face has a protruding snout, full of large, rather sharp looking teeth. Their eyes are almost solid white, and their ears stand tall and pointed on the top of their heads. Finally, they are completely covered in a coarse, short fur. Cait is right about them being short. The taller of the two stands about five feet tall. She is also right about their mass. If either of them weighed less than three hundred pounds I would eat my shirt.
I have just enough time to notice that I cannot accurately count how many weapons they have, because they have them stashed everywhere, before Cait starts talking to them. She removes a translation device from her gun belt and holds it out while she speaks into a boom mike that is part of an ear bud/mike assembly the three of us wear on our right ears. As she talks the device emits the barks and growls of the Deeken language. She says: “We have been cleared. Let us pass. Now.” Deeken do not put any stock in courtesy or niceties. They are seen as a sign of fear.
The shorter of the two responds and with my ear bud I hear the translation: “You know the price human. Pay or die.” Real pleasant guys.
Without a word Cait brings forth a small cube of gold and drops it on the ground. If the amount is adequate the Deeken will step aside and let us pass before picking it up. If the amount is inadequate they would either wait for more, or attack us. I try really hard to control my breathing. I have not even set foot on this planet yet and I am already ready to leave.
After a brief moment they step aside and Cait strides confidently past them. I bring myself to my full height and pretend to ignore the Deeken as I follow Cait and Bennie past them. Nothing happens as we walk by and head to a door further down the Golden Hind. Before I relax I remind myself that according to the plan we have not even started the dangerous part yet. I look at Cait confidently striding ahead of me and take comfort in it. She has done this for years. I remember the wisdom I always gave new pilots when they joined 2nd Heavy Armored: Keep your head down, pay attention, and follow the people who have been here a while. Do that and you will be fine. Done and done.
As we approach the door it opens. The bridge crew is paying attention to our movements on the ship’s external sensors. Bennie runs in to the ship while Cait and I wait outside. I look towards the personnel ramp and see that the Deeken who met us are well beyond it and almost to the landing bay’s exit. They reach the exit and disappear. I turn around in time to see Bennie drive a small black pickup style truck out of the Hind. Once out of the ship he stops the truck and hops out. He looks at me and says: “Sorry mate, it doesn’t have a gun-rack.”
I am nonplussed: “What?”
Bennie assumes a confused expression and replies: “Don’t you Yanks put gun-racks in the back of these things? So you can shoot squirrels for dinner while you’re driving home?”
Despite the tension of the moment I burst out laughing. Bennie grins
hugely. I look over at Cait. By God I swear I see a faint smile. The smile quickly disappears and she says: “It’s time to go.”
Cait smoothly climbs into the driver’s seat. Bennie walks around the truck and sits in the passenger seat. I get in behind Cait. The instant I close my door Cait stomps on the accelerator and we take off for the landing bay exit.
The exit is a large sliding door that is open just enough for the truck to fit through. Cait does not let off the accelerator and shoots through the door at speed. Once through we are on a ramp that leads to a larger road buzzing with many large multi-wheeled cargo vehicles. Cait continues to accelerate and narrowly dodges two massive vehicles before joining traffic on the road. With cool precision she says: “It is ten kilometers by road to my offices. This time of day all of the Invisibles should be there. Remember the plan. This lorry is not known by my people so we cannot park in the office’s garage. We will have to park on the street and walk in. It is a busy area, stay focused.”
Cait threads through the traffic with reckless abandon. I have no idea what the traffic laws on Dystan are, but I trust Cait knows what she is doing. After a couple of kilometers we leave the sprawling grounds of the spaceport and enter an area full of massive warehouses for transshipped cargo. They rise up around us like a metal canyon. Cait takes a turn at an intersection, flies down a smaller road and takes another turn. The warehouses recede behind us and we enter what I assume to be some sort of business district. People start to crowd the street. Cait finally starts to slow down. After a couple of blocks Cait slows down even further and begins searching for a parking spot. She spots one and parks the truck in between a couple of vehicles that obviously pass for Deeken personal transportation. She turns it off and drops the security fob onto the floor. The truck has been completely sanitized of anything that will connect it with the United Humanity government. The plan is to just abandon it.