His tri-colored eyes widened again before he glanced about the room again. I looked around too to cover my sigh. It seemed every time I opened my mouth, something like this fell out. After a moment my companion turned back to me. He chuckled to himself. “You know, we Citizens don’t only know about ‘street power games’ we wrote a rule book on them.” He looked around the dining hall before turning back to me. In a softer voice he said “I think Ser’etten has the right of it, though. The only difference between ‘Citizen” and ‘Colonist’ is spelling. After all, both start with ‘c’. So, what is your name?”
“Rylynn Sinclair of Colony Lenti. You?”
“Jason Winter of Terress. What Order are you in?”
“Earth, team Canine.” I answered. “You?” I asked before finishing my sandwich off.
“The same as you. Which means there is a good chance that your next class is Navigation.”
My brow furrowed as I tried to remember what my next class actually was. My memory remembered seeing Navigation listed for today, just not when. So I reached into my uniform pocket and withdrew my folded schedule. I unfolded it and sure enough, I had Navigation next. “You’re right.”
Jason gave an ‘I-know-I-am’ shrug.
“Don’t expect a medal or something for it.” I told him with teasing stiffness as I tucked my schedule once again into my pocket.
Jason gave me a hurt pout. His tri colored eyes glittered with fun as we stared at each other. Both of us trying to keep from being the first to drop the act. I, haughty indifference and he the injured party. In the end it was a draw as we both cracked up at the same time. It had been a long time since I had laughed so carelessly. The last time must have been before my aunt had died.
For once, the Universe seemed to like me. Jason and I had the same lunch and noon schedule. We spent the next four hours in both navigation and math. Navigation was fascinating to me as we were learning how to read star charts. During an activity, Jason and I worked together and he was able to point things out to me. I was grateful that I wouldn’t need the professor leaning over my shoulder showing me how to read something that had been covered, at least in an overview, in grade school.
Math was a different story entirely. They were doing something called ‘differential equations’. I wondered what the professor had been smoking before the class. The room was full of thirteen cycle olds. How the hell did he expect the lot of us to know how to do something like this? I felt like my brain had been filled with hardened clay. No matter how many times the professor or Jason tried to explain something to me, the idea just couldn’t dig through.
And unlike what I had expected, I was the only one who didn’t get it. Jason had explained that it had been introduced during grade school. I hated being the ignorant, stupid one in the class. The amusement of Lassie and her friends did not help the situation.
So it was with a heavy heart that I entered the lab room that Westley and I used. Jason was done for the day and had asked to join me. Westley didn’t mind as long as we both worked on lessons. And did both Jason and I have lessons to be worked on. Since the two of us had missed most of the current term and there were tests coming up we both had a lot of reading and such to do. Westley helped me to clarify what I had from science and both boys helped me with the math. I acknowledge math has its usefulness, but I swore it had been partially conceived to confuse and frustrate students for all time.
At one point, I noticed that Jason seemed troubled by something he was working on. “What’s wrong?” I asked, happy as could be for an excuse to part from math for a short time of bliss. Westley, who had been trying to figure out the issue alongside Jason, looked up at my question.
“It’s a battle strategy problem.” Westley told me. “You are given the situation and your mission. Your job is to develop a strategy on how you would accomplish the mission without losing anyone under your command while following the ethical choice.”
Intrigued, I leaned forward. “Can you read it aloud?” I asked.
Jason read in that lyrical voice of his “You are the captain of an LFA class ship. You are on a mission to scout a system reported to be occupied by pirates. You are returning from scouting when you come across a merchant class frigate that is being attacked by three small, heavily armed pirates. What do you do?” Jason sighed. “I can’t decide if I should engage the pirates or not. There is one of me and three of them. If I attack, I could suffer heavy damage. If I do nothing, the people aboard the merchantmen are dead. I guess I could try to lure the pirates away…” He ended thoughtfully.
I frowned and turned to Westley. “What is an LFA?”
“A Legion Fleet Arrow. A small deep space fighter. Very fast. It is small with room for only four crewmembers. Anymore and you’re pushing it. Limited cargo. Limited weaponry: one laser cannon and two rail guns. It is mainly used as a scout ship or in tandem with a warship as an escort.” Wesley explained.
“Okay, so you have a small fast ship with few weapons and only three crew excluding yourself. You are alone against three small pirate vessels that are likely also quick with bigger guns and a moral dilemma. I’m guessing that the merchantman doesn’t have adequate weapons at their disposal?”
Westley shook his head. “Usually only a single cannon. Mostly they rely on escort and shielding.”
“So our hypothetical victim is a lamb cornered by wolves with no shepherd in sight.” I muttered. I sat back and asked one more question. “Does the problem give any setting information?”
Jason nodded. “Sorry, I forgot to read it. There is a large moon and gas giant nearby. The merchant ship is actually between them. I don’t know how that helps though...” He said something else, but I didn’t hear him. I was too busy remembering a conversation that I had had with Carden once.
“You’re small, Rylynn. Dat isn’t good when you’re against someone who is bigger than you head on. Especially if there are several of them. You don’t have the brute strength to even try. But if you develop speed, you have less bulk to drag with you.” Ace had sniggered something and Carden had paused to glare at him before turning back to me. “Speed is your friend. Lightning attacks are good. Even devastating when used well. If against more than one, take them out one by one. Never let them flank you. Always be one step ahead. And don’t be afraid to fight dirty like. Remember that, strike fast, hit hard, and use dirty tactics.”
Considering those words of wisdom from such a usually wisdom dry font I puzzled over the problem. Carden may not be considered wise by most, but he knew how to fight. I thought aloud to help myself think, my gaze in the air imagining the situation. I was distantly aware of the two guys pausing in their own puzzling. In my mind’s eye I saw a big red-brown planet outlined by its distant star. In its lee was its great, cratered moon. Between the two was the balky merchant ship surrounded by crab-like pirate vessels. Bright flashes of light pulsed between the cannons on the pirates and the merchant ship. In my imagination I called it the Lamb. “The mission is to scout and return with the information. The moral problem is whether or not to help the merchantman. There is a gas giant and its moon nearby… and three small pirates. I wonder if there is a pirate mother ship nearby. But that isn’t describe in the problem so we are probably safe in figuring that there isn’t.
“Okay…You say that the LFA Class ship is fast and light...” An idea came to mind. Oh this was fun. “So, calculate a slingshot path around the moon and fire engines to full speed. You pepper the pirates with the rail gun and laser on your way past. Hopefully, by this time you are now going around the moon, so whatever their returning volley is, it hits the moon and not you. On your way back around you slam them with some more weapon fire. The hope is now that all their attention is on you and not the merchantman. The other hope is that they have it in their heads to make sure you are blown out of the sky.”
“Why is that the hope?” Jason interrupted. He was obviously wondering if I was crazy.
I smiled and answered. “There is a
gas giant nearby and from my understanding, the pirates are more heavily built then the LFA. They would usually avoid getting too close to the planet’s gravity well. Peppering them with the shots gets them mad. Hopefully mad enough to forego caution and follow where you lead. You calculate another slingshot, just this time low enough in the planet’s atmosphere where the pirates are in trouble but you can escape. With any luck they will get caught in the planet’s gravity well and be unable to get out. After you escape, rotate the LFA one hundred eighty decrees and fire back down the gravity well.” I smiled as I used a phrase Carden loved. “It would be like shooting fish in a barrel.
“The plan now would be to get the merchantman to safety or see to it that safety comes to them.” I shrugged and sat back in my seat. “After that, finish your mission.” I looked down to find both guys staring at me with gaping mouths. “What?” I asked.
Chapter 10 In the System
Officer Sanders stared at the pictures of Mara Dane on the board. The mousy brown haired woman had been found dead several hours before in the darkened detour section of the Imperial Space Station. It was a section he had always warned people could become a nest of crime. But in the past no one, other than potential Legion Fleet trainees, would go there. Even with the patrols being so far apart, no one would go there to commit dirty deals. It was like something scared them all away… till now. It made him wonder what lurked there that even the underground avoided it. Was Mara Dane attacked by whatever it was? Now you are just letting your imagine rule over facts. He grumbled to himself.
Sanders raked his fingers through his graying hair and tried to focus on the facts he had. The first was that they had been lucky to find Mara at all. It was sad. She could have been there in that storage room forever if not for an automatic light repair request coming in. Maintenance had taken their time getting there, but once they did they were quick in responding. They had frantically called the Station Guard as soon as they arrived.
Mara Dane had been, according to the autopsy report, dead for twenty-three hours and forty-seven seconds. She had been found with a stab wound in her chest, but no murder weapon. Her wrists and ankles bore bruising associated with tight bonds, but nothing of the restraints were present. The body had been meticulously cleaned of any traces of her assailant.
The crowbar found nearby had none of Mara’s blood on it. The DNA and fingerprints on it were from someone not in the Citizen Archive. It also was nowhere on the body.
Nothing was adding up. A dead body with a stab wound that the crowbar, no matter how it was handled, could reproduce. The body that had also been clean of any traces that could give the Officers of Order a hint. That left the mystery of the crowbar. Why had the body been cleaned so meticulously to only leave the crowbar with mystery DNA where it had fallen after shattering the light? Sanders figured that there had been three people present; the killer, the deceased, and the unknown witness. The problem was, Sanders had no clue or way to discover who the witness had been.
Following procedure, which for once Sanders was quite happy about doing, he had called the deceased’s place of work. Something else about the killer, they had experience with the art. If they didn’t, Sanders doubted they would have been able to take down someone like Mara. The Imperial Guard were renowned for their many skills. You didn’t get the honor of guarding the royal family unless you knew what the hell you were doing and were the best at it. The HQ of the Imperial Guard had told him that someone would come and take over the investigation. He normally didn’t like having his cases taken from him, but something about this particular one made the hair stand up on the back of his neck. Death before its time was never right, but Sanders was used to seeing it in his career. Being used to it never made it any less sad. Mara Dane’s death, however, was not just sad or horrible. It was wrong. Whatever that wrongness was Sanders couldn’t quite say… even in his own mind.
“Officer Sanders?” A gruff voice caused him to startle slightly. Sanders hid the fact that someone had managed to sneak up on him by turning to see who it was as nonchalantly as he could. A human male stood a close but comfortable distance away. To Sanders’ eye, the man appeared to be in his late thirties, possibly early forties. A few steel gray hairs were threaded through otherwise short ebony hair. Five o’clock shadow gave the newcomer a rough edge. Along with his dark brown uniform with its black detailing it made Sanders think of a woodsman on one of the forested worlds. Watchful green eyes met Sander’s gaze. They were waiting.
“Aye and you are?” Sanders answered the man.
“Officer Ty’lon of the Imperial Guard. I was sent to relive you of the burden of Mara Dane’s case. Both her family and the Imperial Guard request it.” He added.
The Imperial Guard wasn’t in the habit of making ‘requests’. Sanders had often thought that they didn’t even know what the word meant. Instead of his usual fit, however, he sighed. The tension drained out of him. “I do not envy you this case.” He said taking a step to the side of the board that was littered with pictures of Mara Dane before and after death and the surroundings of her murder. “There are so many unknowns in this case that it’s starting to resemble a sponge.”
“Oh? What do you mean?” The man asked, taking a step closer to the board.
“A dead body with a stab wound, but no murder weapon. No DNA but the victim’s and another strain that is unknown to the Archives.”
“So the killer is somehow not in the Archives.” The man surmised grimly. Sanders worried that he thought the killer was from outside the empire. The idea was valid, but Sanders doubted the DNA they had was the killer.
“That’s just it. I don’t think that the DNA we have is the killer’s.” He said with a shake of his head. No matter how crazy it sounded, his gut told him the DNA was not from the killer. At Ty’lon’s look he tried to explain. “There had to have been three people there, it is the only thing that makes sense.” Sanders ticked them off his fingers “The victim, Mara Dane. Her killer who stabbed her but wiped any trace of his or her existence from the scene. Finally, the owner of the DNA strand. We found that DNA on a crowbar that wasn’t even close to the victim and surrounded by glass. It had none of the victim’s blood on it nor does it match the wound found in the victim.” Sanders shook his head again, raking his hair with his fingers. “I can come up with all kinds of scenarios, but I have little evidence to back any of it up with.”
Officer Ty’lon frowned thoughtfully. His green eyes strayed back to the board. After a moment he asked “is there anything else you can tell me about the case?”
Sanders waved a hand at the board which held pictures of the evidence, facts, and possible ideas he had had. “It is all up there.”
Ty’lon’s brow furrowed. “From what I have heard, you have always been difficult to take a case from. Back at IGHQ, you are known as ‘the Terrier’. What has changed?” he asked.
Sanders’ brows rose at Officer Ty’lon’s words. Apparently he had made an impression with the Imperial Guard. Huh, who would have thought? Sanders cleared his throat. “I guess that name fits most of the time.” His eyes strayed to the evidence board. He met the eyes of the now dead Mara Dane. Eyes were supposed to be flat and empty with death. At least that was what experience had taught him. Mara’s eyes were flat, but they were not empty. It was like the woman was trapped inside her dead shell. He hadn’t been there to witness her passing but every time he met her eyes after death he could hear her screams… “This time,” he continued weakly “This time I know I am in over my head.” He pulled his gaze away from the screaming eyes of a dead woman. Ty’lon met his gaze steadily. Mara’s screams faded with the help. “As crazy as this sounds, that poor woman didn’t just die before her time. Something worse happened. I just don’t know what and, what I am about to say may well haunt me till the day I fall into my grave, but for once I just don’t want to know.” Sanders nodded to the poor man who had been handed this dreadful case and went in search of something decidedly more normal for a
station officer… A straightforward smuggling issue would be nice.
***
Marius Ty’lon watched Officer Sanders leave. Marius was a long standing member of the Shade Order, an elite and secretive branch of the Imperial Guard. Unlike Officer Sanders, he couldn’t wake from this nightmare. “Good instincts, Terrier.” He muttered before turning to look at what the Station Guard had managed to collect on the scene. It wasn’t much. But it was more than was usually found on such scenes. Sanders didn’t know it, but Mara’s case was not the first like this. But hers was the first to be found so soon after her death. There had been at least twelve before her. Marius had the uneasy feeling that there were many more. Those missing had been explained to have died as a result of a mission going wrong, but Marius wondered.
Regardless, the known victims had all been members of the Shade Order. Unlike her, the others had been reported MIA for months before the body was found in some unexpected dump. One Shade’s remains hadn’t been found for almost two years. And typically, the remains were beyond recognizable, but the Order had tricks for discovering how the mortal blow had been struck. All of them had been stabbed through the heart by a knife never found.
What greatly bothered Marius other than the fact that someone was obviously hunting his fellow Shades was that the Spectrals never returned home to report the deaths? What weapon could possibly kill or otherwise keep a Spectral from reporting the death of their friend to the Order? Sanders was right in feeling disturbed. The Lord on High knew how it bothered Marius.
After scanning over the board of pictures and notes Marius silently called his handler, Becky. “Is it true?” She asked upon opening the link. Marius didn’t have to ask what she meant. That was obvious. As was the fact that Becky had been probably biting her nails waiting for him to contact her.
“Unfortunately yes. However, it looks like we have a lead to a witness.” He thought to her as he started putting the evidence into the briefcase he brought with him. One particular piece was a picture of the crowbar on the scene and an evidence number.
Defender of the Empire: Cadet #1 Page 9