Citizen X - BP01

by DePrima, Thomas

  "I'm not in your class. I'd slow you down."

  "You're good, and you're getting better all the time. Let's give it a go, and then you can go sack out. I bet you'll be able to sleep when you try again."

  "Okay, you're on."

  When Sydnee got back to her quarters after going two more rounds on the Marine Combat Range with Kelly MacDonald, she could barely stand up. Her rack had never felt as good as it did when she climbed beneath the covers and said, "Lights out," but the switch picked this day to malfunction again. When "Lights out, damn you," didn't work any better, she just rolled over and closed her eyes. The light didn't prevent her from falling asleep within seconds.

  * * *

  "We can't keep sending the men up to the ship for more supplies, Currulla," the rebel named Thellerro said. "The air is too foul. The last group almost didn't get back out. Two men had to be carried to the shuttle. Besides, we have enough supplies to last us five years."

  "Did we retrieve all the weapons and ammunition in the armory and small arms lockers?"

  "We have enough to wage a small war. Since the ship was in a protected spacedock, they left everything aboard. Getting into the armory was difficult, but we managed it."

  "How about medical supplies and clothing?"

  "We brought down everything we could. Far more than we'll need."

  "How much is that?"

  "How much is what?"

  "Far more than we'll need. Can you tell me how long we'll be here? We're in GA space and dependent on rescue from our own forces. I have no idea how long we'll be here, or even if we'll ever be rescued."

  "We sent the distress message to our people, didn't we?"

  "Yes— and they responded. But that doesn't mean we'll ever see anybody. If something happens to the pickup ship, we may be stuck here for the rest of our days. According to the database, this miserable excuse for a planet has just one thing going for it— it's just barely habitable. There are no mineral resources or agriculture settlements, and it's not of any strategic value. It's miserably hot the entire annual, there're deadly indigenous life forms, insects that attack in swarms, and it rains almost every solar. We selected it for its desolation, and we got what we were seeking. It may be our undoing."

  Chapter Eleven

  ~ Feb. 9th, 2285 ~

  Thanks mainly to the efforts of the Perry's engineers, the repairs to the Darrapralis were completed quickly once the generator shaft had been inspected. SHQ still refused the Perry's request to violate the diplomatic rights of the ship in order to save the women, and Captain Lidden would take no further action to free the slaves. Sydnee watched from her position at the navigator console and fumed as the diplomatic yacht built its envelope and disappeared in an instant.

  Once the yacht was on its way to Clidepp space at FTL speeds, Lieutenant Milton, in his capacity as watch commander, ordered the Perry to return to the passenger ship they had left to answer the yacht's distress call.

  "The ship isn't here," Lieutenant," the tac officer said. "This is where we left it."

  Milton scowled. "Com, append a note to the pending interdiction report that the Captain violated a direct order from the senior Space Command officer aboard the ship at the time we received the distress call to remain at this location until we returned. Then send it to SHQ." To no one in particular he said, "It's their problem now. That dumb bastard will probably lose his Master's papers over this and never be allowed to captain a ship in GA space again. And the company will receive a fine so high they'll be screaming for years. But— they'll never let one of their captains violate a Space Command directive again. Sydnee?"

  "Aye, sir?"

  "Pull up that course heading we got from the dip ship and establish a course to the nearest world with a breathable atmosphere. Then send it to the helm. Helm, as soon as you have the course and destination, take us there at top speed. We want to find that rebel ship."

  "Aye, sir" both Sydnee and the helmsman said.

  * * *

  "I figured you'd be here this morning," Lt. Kelly MacDonald said as she entered the anteroom of the Marine Combat Range and saw Sydnee cooling down after just finishing both range courses. "I heard that the dip ship left during third watch."

  "Yes, I watched it prepare to leave and wished I was at a Laser Array console instead of the navigation console."

  "We'll free them eventually. We have the proof now in the images from your helmet cam, right?"

  "Yeah. Space Command Intelligence said they were able to make positive identification of five of the six."

  "So the Clidepp won't be able to deny it when the GA Council presses the issue the next time. They can't just say it's a vicious rumor promoted by political rivals."

  "There's no telling how long it will take to get the Clidepp Empire to fess up and free the slaves."

  "But— it will happen."

  "Maybe."

  "Come on. Let's do a duet in the city."

  "Okay. And then the jungle. You'll probably do better in the city, but I bet I beat your score in the jungle."

  "I do love a challenge," Kelly said, smiling.

  * * *

  "Another dry hole," Captain Lidden said to his XO during their daily briefing. "No sign they were ever here."

  "It's too bad the Captain of the diplomatic yacht couldn't tell us how badly the rebel destroyer had been wounded."

  "Those dip ship officers were probably pissing their pants and hiding under their beds during the attack. The Captain probably got all his info from watching the logs after the rebels left."

  "I suppose it's possible they headed for Clidepp space and crossed the border while we were still with the yacht."

  "I doubt it. As soon as the distress call went out, every available Clidepp military ship and commercial ship near this sector's border area would have been watching for that destroyer. I don't think the rebels would have risked a crossing if they were less than one hundred percent, and the way the Captain of the Darrapralis talked, they were only marginal."

  "So, do we keep looking, or resume interdiction efforts?"

  "We keep looking until we find it, the Clidepp military announces they caught them, or SHQ tells us to stop. If the rebels get that ship repaired, they could become a more serious threat to commercial shipping than the Raiders ever were."

  "You think they present a hazard to normal shipping?"

  "They're trying to start a war, and I doubt they're very particular about how they do it. I think they deliberately attacked the diplomatic yacht on this side of the border in the hope that it would drag us into the conflict."

  "Aye, sir. We'll stay on it."

  * * *

  As alarms began sounding all over the Perry, crewmembers were rolling out of their beds and searching for clothes. Within seconds, they were running to their GQ stations.

  "We've found the ship, Captain," Lt. Milton said when Lidden called the Watch Commander station.

  "Is the identification positive?" Lidden asked as he glanced up at the chronometer on the bulkhead in his bedroom. It was just 0026."

  "As positive as we can be from this distance, sir. The computer has identified her as a Clidepp destroyer. We're standing twenty-five thousand kilometers off her stern. She's running dark, and we're getting no indication of power."

  "I'll be there in a few minutes."

  "Aye, sir. Milton out.

  "Lidden out."

  When Lidden arrived on the bridge, he paused to look at the front monitor. They were currently in the umbra created by the planet, so the greatly magnified view of the destroyer they'd been hunting for weeks was a composite image prepared by electronic sensors.

  "Where are we?" he said absently to Lt. Milton.

  "We're in orbit around a planet named Diabolisto." Reading from a monitor on the arm of the command chair, Milton said, "It orbits a Type G2 Yellow MMK class V (dwarf) star once each three hundred four Earth days. The planet has a mass of 0.96 and a radius 0.89 times that of Earth, makes one full re
volution each twenty-two hours and six minutes, Galactic System time, and has tectonic plate movement similar to Earth's. It has a breathable oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere with a roughly 18/82 mix and no more than three percent of non-deadly trace gases, with a mean temperature of 54 degrees Celsius."

  "Diabolisto? They couldn't have chosen a much more inhospitable place in this sector if they'd had months to search for one."

  "No, sir, at least not one with a breathable atmosphere."

  "As I remember, it's never had a colony because it's such a miserable little mud ball."

  "I heard that a long time ago a company of Marines came here for thirty days of survival training but landed on the wrong landmass. Seventy-five percent were killed by deadly indigenous life forms before they could evacuate."

  Lidden chuckled. "That's probably just a campfire tale told to young space scouts, but I won't deny it's a deadly place for the unwary. Have you hailed the ship?"

  "Negative. I was waiting to see what you wished to do, sir. I didn't want to alert them to our presence if they're not already aware. After I contacted you, I alerted Major Burrows for a possible assault."

  Lidden nodded. "Tac, launch an IDS jamming satellite to keep our rebel friends from calling for help. Com, tell Major Burrows to assemble two full teams for a 'no atmo' assault on that ship. We have no idea how large the crew of that destroyer is, but let's anticipate the worst. Milty, who's up on rotation?"

  "Lieutenants Caruthers and Bateman."

  "Notify them that they should report to their shuttles."

  "Aye, Captain."

  "Com, hail that ship using RF in the three-to-thirty megahertz range." To Milton, he said, "I'll take over, Milty."

  "Aye, sir," Milton said as he climbed down from the command chair and moved to the first officer's chair. "You have the bridge, Captain."

  Thirty minutes of hails and waiting for responses produced nothing but dead air on the hailing frequencies.

  Lidden lightly stabbed at a contact spot on the monitor mounted on the chair by his right hand. "Lt. Bateman, what's your status?"

  "We're loaded and ready, sir."

  "Good. Lt. Caruthers, how about you?"

  "Buttoned up and ready to go, sir."

  "Good. Launch and stand by for a command to approach the enemy destroyer."

  Both officers acknowledged the order and commenced their taxi procedures as the bay controller directed them to move to temporary airlock locations near the bay's large hatchways to space.

  Laser array teams watched anxiously as the shuttles approached the Clidepp destroyer. They were too far distant for their lasers to be effective but were ready if any torpedoes were launched towards the Perry. Fortunately, space remained calm as the shuttles reached their destination. An engineer was dispatched with two Marines, all in EVA suits, to open a shuttle bay. The bridge crew of the Perry watched as they succeeded in opening a small airlock and moved inside the destroyer. Eighteen minutes later, a shuttle bay hatchway opened to admit the first of the two shuttles. It took just nine minutes for the airlock to recycle and then reopen to admit the second small ship.

  "The air is pretty foul," the lieutenant in command of the search reported as the Marine squads spread out. "No one could survive here for long without oxygen or a rebreather unit."

  "How long can you maintain your search, Lieutenant?" Lidden asked.

  "According to my armor's sensors, the built-in rebreather unit shouldn't have any difficulties for several days based on the size of the team with me, but anyone without supplemental oxygen would be unconscious within minutes."

  "Understood. Proceed with caution but search the entire ship for holdouts. Be sure to check all life pods, stasis beds, and auxiliary spacecraft."

  "Acknowledged, sir."

  "Com," Lidden said, "cancel GQ."

  Images from the helmet cams filled the front viewer of the Perry while the search was conducted, but no personnel were encountered. The Marines relayed images of the empty food, medical supplies, clothing, and small-arms lockers, plus the emptied armory.

  "It looks like they took everything they could that wasn't nailed down," the lieutenant in command said when the search was completed. "I thought Tsgardi were supposed to be the galaxy's worse scavengers. The Yolongi could give them lessons. From the condition of the oxygen regeneration equipment, I'd say this ship isn't going anywhere under its own power, even though the engines, FTL generator, and power levels are fine. They must have been wearing EVA suits or rebreathers full time just to get it here."

  "Okay, Lieutenant," Lidden said. "Good job. Wrap it up and come on home."

  "Yes, sir."

  Turning to Lieutenant Milton, who had returned from AC&C when GQ was cancelled, Lidden said, "Let's examine that planet in minute detail. I want to know exactly where those rebels landed."

  "Yes, sir."

  "You have the bridge, Lieutenant. I'm going back to my quarters. I'll relieve you at first watch."

  "Aye, sir. I have the bridge. I'll get our people working on locating the rebels. Good night, sir."

  "Good morning, Milty."

  * * *

  "Good morning, Milty," Lidden said as he returned to the bridge just before first watch. The tiredness he was feeling was clearly evident in his eyes. It had been 0518 when he'd returned to his quarters, but thoughts of the problems ahead had kept him from falling asleep so he'd only gotten one hour of sleep all night.

  "Good Morning, Captain."

  "What's the situation?"

  "The assault teams returned without incident. We've identified the probable location on the planet where the rebels might have established their base camp. There are three large clearings filled with cargo and a dozen campfires were visible before daybreak down there. Currently, we can still see smoke rising from the same area, but it's heavily wooded jungle so most of the optical scans show only treetops."

  "Did you perform an infrared scan?"

  "Affirmative. We've counted two hundred eighty-six hominid shapes."

  "Two hundred eighty-six? I was hoping for fewer. Well, it makes sense— given the size of the vessel they stole. They'd need a crew that size for the ship to run efficiently. They couldn't know they'd lose their oxygen regeneration equipment. They must have been in a bad way by the time they reached this planet."

  "We're, uh, not going down there after them, are we sir?"

  "I'm afraid so, Milty."

  "They'll have our entire Marine contingent outnumbered almost three to one, sir."

  "Yes, it's not a chore I look forward to."

  "Can't we just leave them there? I mean, they're not going anywhere if we tow the destroyer away. Not that they could go anywhere if we didn't."

  "You mean— maroon them there? I'd be willing to bet they signaled for help before they even arrived here. If we don't take them down before their comrades arrive, we might find ourselves facing triple the number, or they may even slip though our grasp. I wish we had reinforcements available out here, but we don't, and we can't wait months for another SC ship to arrive. Like always, out here it's just us."

  "Yes, sir."

  "Who's up on rotation?"

  "For shuttles, sir?"

  "No, this trip will be MATs. We can't send someone into a possible firefight in a shuttle."

  "Only Weems and Marcola are certified for the new MAT-12A. We've been so shorthanded, we haven't been able to send anyone else back to Earth for training."

  "We still have the two MAT-11's don't we?"

  "Both ships are down for maintenance. The repair parts we've ordered still haven't arrived."

  "Damn," Lidden said softly. "Com, notify Lt. Weems to report to the MAT hanger for an assault run." Looking towards Sydnee's back as she sat at the navigator's console, he said loudly, "Marcola."

  At the sound of her name, Sydnee jumped up and reported to where the Captain was standing at the command chair. "Sir."

  "Hop into your armor and then get down to the MAT hanger."


  "Now, sir?"

  "Of course now. I know you just stood a full watch but you're one of the only two pilots aboard who are certified for the MAT-12A."

  "Yes, sir."

  "Go, Lieutenant," Lidden said as she stood there waiting for additional instructions. "You'll get your briefing instructions by com."

  "Yes, sir," she said, then turned and hurried towards the door. As she moved into the corridor, she heard Lidden say, "I'll take the bridge, Milty. You're relieved."

  Sydnee may have wondered if taking all her weapons was necessary when preparing for interdictions, but there was no hesitation now. She probably would have taken more if she had had it, but the laser pistol, rifle, and the two knives should be adequate. Where she had previously only worn the two knives in her belt, she now strapped one to her left thigh and attached the other to her right calf. She had noticed some of the Marines wearing them that way and it seemed like a more effective arrangement.

  "Loaded for bear again, I see," Weems said as she entered the MAT hanger.

  "Are you expecting a tea party?" Sydnee said as a retort.

  Weems grinned. "I'm expecting a stop and drop, then back up to where the angels cruise. This one is the real deal, Syd. It's not like boarding a passenger ship to check passports and visas. We keep our noses in our birds."

  "Yes, several hundred rebel fighters is a different story entirely."

  "Where did you get the number?"

  "I just came off watch. There are two hundred eighty-six rebels down there. We have to either take them into custody or see that they stay on the planet permanently. That's why I'm loaded for bear. We can't just drop the Marines. We have to stay behind to evacuate them if things get too dicey."

  "Yeah, I know. I was just kidding. I also have everything I was issued— plus a little more. I stowed it in the pilot's locker when I first got here. I know this could turn real nasty, but we should be okay as long as we stay in the MAT. These new ships can take a direct hit by a mortar round and shrug it off everywhere but the engine intakes and exhausts. Even the nacelles are Dakinium sheathed. It's only while the cabin hatches are open that we really have to be worried."