by Greg Sorber
Colonel Yakubu noticed Tala’s bewildered look and took pity on her. He leaned over and said, “Congratulations, top officer candidate.”
Tala’s confused look disappeared. She smiled and executed a crisp salute. “Thank you, Colonel.”
After Colonel Yakubu returned her salute, Tala marched back to her position in the formation of candidates.
With the awards given, it was time for the commissioning to begin. Tala’s spirit soared. She had worked hard every day during OCS. She’d never let up. Even though all the other candidates had come from the ranks of enlisted soldiers as well, most had combat training and experience. Tala, coming from the General’s staff, had been looked upon as someone who was there because of favoritism rather than merit. Of course, none of the other candidates had known of her experience during the Battle of Frangellan-7. She made it a point to not talk about that incident. Once word got out about that, however, many didn’t believe it, so she still had to show her peers that she was worthy to be among them.
Careful not get too lost in her own thoughts again, Tala snapped to attention the moment her name was called for the second time. She stepped forward and marched to the appropriate spot, then saluted. This time, instead of Colonel Yakubu, TH3R stood waiting for her. As usual, he wore his uniform, no rank present, as mechs didn’t have official rank. Instead, he had his AOIS Cross and Purple Star medals displayed proudly, just as Tala did.
“Kuya!” She tried to keep her composure. What had been intended as a whisper came out quite a bit louder, but no one seemed to notice. It had been too long since she’d seen TH3R. Since she’d recovered from her injuries after the Battle of Frangellan-7, the two of them hadn’t been apart for more than a day or two at a time. During that time he really had been like a big brother, taking her under his wing and bringing her up to speed on everything she didn’t know as a private but needed to know as an aid to the General. It had been twelve weeks since they’d last seen each other. She dropped her salute.
TH3R stepped forward and affixed a bronze fourth lieutenant bar to each of the lapels on her uniform. There were a handful of gasps from the audience. It wasn’t every day that a mech took part in the commissioning of an officer. TH3R didn’t hold an official rank in the military, but he wielded something much greater, his influence with General Dirksen.
Tala didn’t mind TH3R’s participation. It was the next best thing to having her parents or General Dirksen do it. With her new bar affixed to her uniform, she took her place back in formation. She stood at parade rest while the other officer candidates received their rank.
After the ceremony concluded, the newly commissioned officers were dismissed to greet their families, friends, and fellow officers. Tala received several hugs and congenial pats on the back, congratulating her on her award.
“General Dirksen will be very proud of you when she learns of your accomplishment,” TH3R said. With the ceremony over, Tala broke composure and threw her arms around TH3R and squeezed him tight. She should have waited until they were in private, but she couldn’t contain her emotions any more.
“I wanted to make her and you proud. I know you thought little of my clerical skills when we first met, but you worked hard to get me up to speed. Salamat, Kuya.”
TH3R looked Tala in the eyes. “Walang Anuman, Tala. You worked hard. You earned your rank and your award.”
Tala wiped tears from her eyes and sniffed. TH3R produced a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her. Several officers and their guests looked at her. “Here you go, Lieutenant Matapang, to help with your allergies.”
“Thank you, TH3R. You always have my back.”
“Oh yes, please remind me later that I have a gift for you, from the General.” TH3R said, changing the subject.
“Me? Remind you? Aren’t you the mech? Shouldn’t you be reminding me?”
“A figure of speech. General Dirksen encouraged me to make my speech patterns sound more natural, especially in public settings.”
“Oh well, in that case, I can’t wait to find out what the gift is.”
The amphitheater cleared out, with just a few small groups of officers and their guests remaining. TH3R returned to where he’d been sitting and picked up a perfectly wrapped box. He handed it to Tala.
Tala unwrapped the paper and found a hard case. She opened the case, and the contents were unexpected. “A gun?”
“Yes, a Defender Series 7. It’s a stun weapon by default, but it can convert to lethal rounds if you enter the correct code. As a member of the General’s staff, she has authorized you to carry this anywhere. The General included a holster that you can put on your belt —”
“Or better yet, carry it concealed,” said a woman wearing a dark gray uniform.
“Mistress Sigrid,” TH3R said, “General Dirksen mentioned you would join us.”
“Just Sigrid.”
The woman’s clothing looked like a uniform, but upon closer inspection, it had no rank, insignias, medals, or ribbons. Her blonde hair was cut far shorter than it needed to be to meet regulations. TH3R seemed to know her, so Tala wouldn’t worry. However, she’d learned over the last two years that caution was the best course of action when dealing with someone — or something — you didn’t know.
“Miss Sigrid,” Tala asked, “why should I conceal it? Isn’t a gun more of a deterrent if people can see that I’m armed?”
“To an everyday thug, maybe. To someone like me, if I see an armed person, I’m taking you out first. You don’t want to be the first one targeted. You want to have the option to take cover and return fire. That’s hard to do if you’re already dead.”
“And just who are you, Miss Sigrid? And why are you here?”
“Just Sigrid.”
TH3R interrupted by saying, “Sigrid is someone who knows her business very well, and someone we should listen to regarding these matters.”
Tala looked at TH3R. He shook his head just enough for her to get the point that she shouldn’t continue with her line of questioning. They’d developed a rapport over the last few years, dealing with General Dirksen, other VIPs, and some less than honorable individuals.
“Then I guess I’ll have to get a concealable holster. TH3R, is there somewhere nearby we can get one?” Tala asked.
“One moment, let me check.” TH3R took a second to access the data in his memory matrix. “Yes, there’s a shop nearby. We can pick one up for you on our way to dinner,” TH3R confirmed.
“Dinner?” both Tala and Sigrid asked at the same time.
“Yes, dinner. General Dirksen has authorized me to take the two of you out to dinner. We can discuss the specifics of our mission then.”
“Mission?” Tala asked. “I thought I was on leave.”
TH3R shook his head. “General Dirksen apologizes, but the start of your leave will need to be postponed until we complete the mission.”
Tala had planned on returning home to Quandar-3 to visit her parents and help with the harvest. Her parents were getting old and could use whatever help they could get. Despite her military service, and that she couldn’t just come home when requested, she still caught grief from her siblings if she didn’t help out whenever she could. However, if the General had a mission for her and TH3R, it must be important. “I understand.”
“Shall we go to dinner then?” TH3R picked up a small black bag and slid it over his shoulder.
“Kuya, is that a purse you’re carrying? That’s very fashionable.”
“A purse? Oh no, this is a tactical satchel. I needed it to carry all my accessories. My uniform is woefully short on pockets. The satchel is projectile proof and also converts into a backpack if that is more acceptable.”
“No, that’s fine. I like your satchel. What else are you carrying there?” Tala asked.
“Ah, yes. I almost forgot; General Dirksen wanted you to have these as well.”
TH3R handed her two small metal tubes, their length about the width of her fists. Tala pressed a button, and
the tubes expanded in length to about eighteen inches long. Another press, and an electric crackle ran the length of the batons. When she pressed the button a third time, the crackling stopped, and the tubes collapsed back into their original size. She quickly pocketed the two tubes.
Tala smiled. “Not exactly escrima sticks, but they’ll do.”
“Do you know how to use those?” Sigrid asked.
“I do. So does TH3R. We’re both quite good. Care to spar, Miss Sigrid?”
“Maybe later,” Sigrid said. “Put away all your toys now and let’s go to dinner. I’m starving, and can’t wait to hear what the General has in store for us.”
Chapter Three
The restaurant teemed with patrons. It was the nicest establishment in the city of Hadin, the capitol of Ramor. All the newly promoted officers and their guests must have had the same idea. Tala’s fellow officers swarmed her, offering congratulations and letting her know they’d catch up with her later. There were several parties scheduled for later in the evening. Once the guests had left, the former officer candidates could let loose with their cohort. With a new mission from General Dirksen, Tala doubted she would partake in the festivities, but it was nice to be invited.
After a short wait, they were shown to a table and offered drinks.
“Not exactly the best place to discuss a mission.” Sigrid looked around at all the activity in the room. The servers, both human and bots, moved about, tending to their customers. All the officers and their guests mingled from table to table, congratulating each other and engaging in conversation. “In fact, I’d say it’s one of the worst places you could think of. Are you sure you two know what you’re doing?”
“You’re correct. This isn’t an optimal place for a secret meeting,” TH3R said, “which is why it’s perfect for one.”
TH3R reached into his satchel, pulled out a small device and set it on the table. He pressed a button and a small green light flickered. The noise level from the rest of the crowd diminished.
“A privacy scrambler? Much better.”
“Anyone within the sphere it generates will hear what we are saying, so we’ll still need to be careful with the servers and bots. Anyone outside of the sphere will hear generic crowd noise, as will anyone trying to listen in with any other devices,” TH3R said.
“Very good,” Sigrid agreed.
“As they would say in TexaNova, this is not my first rodeo,” TH3R stated.
Tala snorted and barely stopped herself from spitting out her drink. TH3R had a dry sense of humor and rarely cracked jokes. That had been one of his best.
“Noted,” Sigrid said. “Now, what are the details of the mission?”
TH3R turned to Tala and asked, “Do you remember what we were working on before you left for OCS?”
“Yes, we were trying to triangulate known security breaches to possible SPDR mech activity.”
“Correct. We believe we found one, here on Ramor.”
“That’s great! Now we can capture one.”
“That’s what the General hoped.”
“Let me get this straight. General Dirksen wants you to catch a SPDR mech?” Sigrid asked.
“Yes. Is that a problem?” Tala placed her fist on her hip.
“For me? No.”
Neither Tala nor TH3R said anything.
“For the two of you? Don’t you think that’s a little out of your league?” Sigrid asked. “I mean no offense, but you’re an attaché mech, you specialize in paperwork. And you’re a brand-new fourth lieutenant. I don’t care how much other experience you have, if you’re on the General’s staff, you aren’t doing a lot of fieldwork.”
Tala shrugged. “I don’t believe you have all the details, since most of them are classified... but both of us faced not one, but two SPDR mechs.”
“And a heavy infiltrator mech,” TH3R added.
“TH3R killed one SPDR mech with his bare hands.” Tala patted TH3R on the back.
“Tala killed the heavy infiltrator mech with a rocket launcher.” TH3R looked at Tala.
Sigrid smiled and folded her arms. “The General didn’t mention those details, but that’s just like her to leave out some key bits of information. She likes her surprises. I’m impressed, and more than a little intrigued. From what I know, SPDR mechs are notoriously hard to find, and even harder to kill. If you get close to catching one, they’ll initiate a self-destruct sequence. How do you propose we’re going to capture one?”
“You’re correct, they’re smart and they’re patient,” Tala said. “We’re going to use those traits against them. TH3R, would you like to explain?”
“Because they’re so patient, once they infiltrate a location they conceal themselves for months at a time, milking each target for as much intelligence for as long as they can. We’ve run through several known infiltrations since the start of the war. They used to stay in each location for only a brief time. However, as the war has dragged on, and we didn’t catch on to their strategy, they’ve gotten greedy and extended the time they stay at each target. It appears they’ve permanently stationed SPDR mechs at some locations.”
“And there’s one here on Ramor?” Sigrid asked. “Where?”
“Yes. We’ve identified a facility that’s had several intelligence leaks. We believe they stationed an SPDR mech within. We’ve confirmed it by sending some false information through the facility, that has since made its way through the Imperium intelligence network.”
“If you know where the SPDR mech is, why don’t you just surround the building and send in SPEC OPS to capture it?”
“That won’t work. SPDR mechs are too sneaky and too dangerous. It would detect the troops coming, and either vacate the premises or try to kill them, or both. They did quite the number on Frangellan-7.” Tala traced her fingers along the barely visible scars on her face, mementos of an SPDR mech attack.
TH3R continued. “Instead of a direct confrontation, we’ll plant specialized nano-particle canisters in the ventilation system. They’ll disperse throughout the facility. They’re harmless to anything they come into contact with, but they give off a reaction we can detect when they connect with the SPDR mech’s skin.”
“TH3R has tuned his sensors to detect that reaction once the nano-particles interact with the SPDR mech’s skin and he runs the scan,” Tala said. “Then we’ll be able to detect where it is. From there, it’s just a matter of time tracking it down and capturing it at a place of our choosing.”
“It’s one thing if TH3R can see the SPDR mech, but if we can’t see it, how can we be of any help?” Sigrid asked.
“We’ve thought of that. TH3R has developed goggles that will allow us to detect the SPDR mech as well.”
“It seems like you two have thought of everything. But what about the ventilation system? Don’t you think the SPDR mech is monitoring that? I would monitor all the systems if it were me.”
“We’ve thought of that as well,” Tala confirmed. “We’ll pose as workers doing routine maintenance on the HVAC system.”
“The SPDR mech will be watching you the whole time,” Sigrid said.
TH3R shook his head. “We hope not. I’ve arranged for a distraction that will be more interesting than workers conducting routine maintenance on the HVAC system.”
“Even if you sneak the nano-particles into the ventilation system, and they spread throughout the building and you detect the SPDR mech, it won’t be that easy to capture,” Sigrid said.
“You’re right.” Tala held up a small device. “Once the SPDR mech is in a convenient location, we’ll send a charge through the nano-particles to stun it. If it tries to self-destruct, the particles will activate automatically and stun them. Either way, we win. What do you think?”
“Sounds good, if it works. But I think you two have been watching too many spy movies. Plans are only good until they come into contact with the enemy.”
Tala smiled.“That’s why we have you. If something goes sideways, you’re our backup.”
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“I’m not usually the backup. But the General is paying me well, so let’s see where this goes.”
TH3R looked at Tala and Sigrid’s drinks. “Your drinks are empty, and this crowd is keeping the service bots too busy. They haven’t been to our table in a long time. I’ll go to the bar and refresh your drinks. Tala, you’re drinking a Windirian Sour? And Sigrid, you’re drinking an Old Fashioned with Quandarian Whiskey?”
Tala and Sigrid nodded.
“Then I’ll be back, shortly,” TH3R said.
Though a bot could have done the job faster and more efficiently, the bartender was human. He was friendly, and chatted with TH3R as he made the Windirian Sour for Tala, and the Old Fashioned for Sigrid, though he had to substitute local Ramoran whiskey instead of Quandarian, which was in short supply because of the war. He ordered a vodka tonic with a twist of lime for himself. From his tablet he sent the bartender credits for the drinks, and a generous tip. General Dirksen was paying, and she always tipped well.
Before he picked up the other drinks, TH3R lifted his vodka tonic and took a sip. He didn’t need to eat or drink, and alcohol had no effect on him, but as an attaché mech, he sometimes had to take part in ceremonies where eating and drinking were required. Rather than give offense, he partook. He had sensors in his mouth that allowed him to taste what he ate or drank. While he doubted he took pleasure in tastes the same way that humans did, he could detect quality levels and evaluate whether something was good or bad. He could also detect whether something contained poison or was otherwise toxic. A very useful trait to help protect General Dirksen.
“Is that your drink, mech? Or are you stealing a sip from your betters?”
TH3R picked up the three glasses and turned to face a human officer. A quick scan of the human’s face, temperature, perspiration level, and breath showed the man was drunk. He also noted the officer’s name and rank.
“Lieutenant Treyvin, congratulations on your recent promotion. I’d like the honor of buying you a drink.”