by Ryk Brown
“Well done, Commander. Well done indeed.”
“What are your orders, my lord?” the commander asked, knowing full well what would come next.
Lord Dusahn flashed a sinister smile. “I want this world, SilTek, erased from existence,” he sneered. “Complete destruction. I want all who are invited to ally with the Karuzari against us to know precisely what they risk.”
“Of course, my lord,” Commander Jexx replied. “It will take some time, however. Our new long-range jump missiles have not yet been tested.”
“Then the destruction of SilTek will be their test,” Lord Dusahn snapped.
“My lord, our antimatter warheads are few. To risk them in this manner…”
“Risk is how empires are built, Commander,” Lord Dusahn insisted. “Do as I command…immediately!”
“Yes, my lord.”
CHAPTER NINE
Aleksi Rusayev was a nondescript man. Neither his size nor build was striking at first glance, nor were his features. Beard neatly trimmed, hair properly groomed; dressed in average work clothing, he did not stand out in a crowd.
That was by design.
The leader of the insurgency against Admiral Galiardi seemed more like a factory worker than a warrior. Few would peg him as a deadly killer of men. But Aleksi had seen more than his fair share of death. Death of family and the death of comrades; and of course, the deaths of many opponents. Yet he held no medals, was discharged from service without honors, and was never spoken of by his former commanders. He, like so many others in the special operations community, fought anonymously. Fame and fortune were not part of their lives.
Aleksi was content with that. He much preferred the true anonymity of the average man. While small, his distillery earned him a comfortable living and supported a small band of loyal employees. What most residents of Klyuchi did not know was how he spent the rest of his profits.
Aleksi had worked hard the last ten years, ever since he had left the service of the Russian military. He had built his company, invested his profits, and diversified his wealth in such a way that it was difficult to track. His little business had even managed to survive the Jung occupation and their subsequent attempt to glass the planet more than seven years ago.
It was one of the many advantages of living in a remote city, far off the beaten path. He had loved Klyuchi as a child and still loved it as an adult. Were he to have his way, he would never leave it again.
Aleksi had been sitting at the conference table with his lieutenants for going on two hours. He was growing weary of the endless string of bad ideas. It was not that his subordinates were ignorant or uninspired; his organization simply lacked good options.
“Taking down the net would cost many lives,” Anton argued. “And it would only take days to restore service.”
“They would just switch most of the traffic over to the satellites,” Dimitri insisted.
“The satellites cannot handle the load,” Oleg protested.
“So the people would have slower net access for a while,” Dimitri countered.
“For which they would blame us,” Anton said.
“Anton is correct,” Aleksi agreed. “While we might cripple data exchange, markets, and communications for a day or two, it would send shock waves through the global economy. They would blame us for the chaos, and rightfully so.”
“We must seize control of the nets,” Oleg suggested. “Force Galiardi to step down or hold an election.”
“It is impossible to seize control of the entire net,” Dimitri insisted. “There are too many redundancies. You would need an army, and a well-equipped one at that!”
“A vast army,” Aleksi added. “You’d have to hold those assets to control it.”
“We need to get our message out to the people,” Oleg said.
“And what would that message be?” Aleksi wondered. “That we despise Michael Galiardi? That we believe he assassinated Earth’s first family? Without evidence, we would be labeled as just another group of conspiracy theorists.”
Dimitri smiled. “Aren’t we?”
“Technically, yes,” Aleksi agreed. He always enjoyed Dimitri’s ironic sense of humor. “I fear the best we can hope to do is to continue hitting small targets. Take out as many assets on the ground as possible.”
“That will not stop them,” Oleg insisted.
“No, but it will feed talk on the net. It will get people thinking about Galiardi and questioning his motives and honor. We are fighting a propaganda machine, gentlemen, and an effective one at that.”
“I still say we should get our message out on the net,” Oleg reiterated. “The more people hear something, the more they believe, with or without proof.”
“Then we would be no better than Galiardi,” Dimitri argued.
“Again, we do not have the resources to seize control of the net long enough to get our message to everyone,” Aleksi insisted. “Even if we did, the cost in lives would be too high.”
“We are willing to die,” Dimitri insisted.
“I know you are,” Aleksi assured him. “I know that all of you are. But this insurgency is still tenuous, and our losses have been few thus far. The surgical methods of our strikes are what draws people to our ranks. They know that we are not reckless.”
“Galiardi is taking us into a full-blown war with the Jung,” Anton stated.
“I am well aware,” Aleksi assured him. “Gentlemen,” he declared, having reached his limit for the day. “Please bring me a list of viable targets. Ones you have actionable intelligence on. I do not wish to waste my time on speculation. We will meet again in three days. I expect better ideas by then.”
Aleksi rose from his chair, heading out of the conference room and down the corridor. The day was half over, and he still had a business to run.
“Aleksi,” his friend, Igor called.
Aleksi stopped, turning back toward the voice of one of his trusted right-hand men. Igor had a young man with him, one whom Aleksi did not recognize.
“Aleksi, this is Evgeni, Lula’s boy,” Igor said, introducing the young man.
“A pleasure,” Aleksi said, shaking the young man’s hand. “Your mother has worked for me for many years. I would be lost without her.”
“Thank you, sir,” Evgeni replied. “She speaks highly of you as well.”
Igor looked both ways up and down the corridor, checking that no one was within earshot. “Evgeni is one of many locals who act as our eyes and ears.”
“Is he now?”
“He is one of my most trusted,” Igor assured Aleksi.
“Of course.”
“Tell him what you told me, Evgeni,” Igor urged the young man.
“An hour ago, an old man came into the clinic where I work. His face was covered with small lacerations. He said he was hunting near Papiva Cavern when a flash of light came from the cavern, startling his prey. He also said there was a thunderous echo from deep within the cavern, and then he was knocked down by a fierce wind…like a shock wave. The doctor believes the lacerations were from small bits of lava rock, probably ejected from the cavern, assuming the old man was being honest.”
“You have reason to suspect he was not?” Aleksi wondered.
“He was on pain medication,” Evgeni explained.
“Sounds like a cave-in, or a gas pocket deep within the lava tube opened up causing the ejecta,” Aleksi surmised.
“The old man swears otherwise,” Evgeni told him. “He claimed to have seen gas pockets rupture within the lava tubes, and the smell of sulfur was not present today.”
“I suspect the old man was mistaken,” Igor said, making a gesture indicating an imbibe.
“There was one other thing,” Evgeni added. “He said that a small jet, perhaps a fighter, flew over him no more than ten minutes prior. He said it had come out of nowhere.
A small crack of thunder, and it was streaking over his head, just above the treetops. It disappeared less than a minute later, or so he said.”
Aleksi exchanged a glance with Igor. “Thank you for the information, Evgeni,” he said, handing the young man a credit chip.
“Thank you, sir,” Evgeni replied, happily turning to exit.
As soon as the young man was gone, Aleksi looked at Igor. “What do you think?”
“I think it was a drunken old man in the woods who wanted an excuse for why he was unable to provide dinner,” Igor decided.
“If it were just the blast from the cavern, I might agree with you.”
“You think it was an EDF fighter?” Igor wondered, a bit surprised.
“More likely a small recon ship.”
“You think Vasyli was captured?”
“We have not heard from him in over a week,” Aleksi stated.
“Vasyli is too careful to be caught,” Igor insisted. “Someone spooked him, and he has gone into hiding. He will turn up. You will see.”
“I hope you are correct,” Aleksi agreed. “In the meantime, send Sasha and his men to check out Papiva Cavern, but tell them to keep a low profile.”
“I’ll speak to Sasha directly,” Igor promised.
* * *
“You wanted to see me, Ken?” Cameron asked as she entered the Aurora’s intelligence office.
“We got some disturbing data from one of our recent recons of the Takara system,” the lieutenant commander began. “At first, we thought it was a missile launch, but the configuration was wrong.”
Cameron stepped up to the display table at the center of the compartment, looking at the data displayed on its surface. “Wrong, how?”
“Well, to begin with, its jump drive signature resembles one of our comm-drones. The original routable variants with series jump capabilities.”
“I thought the Dusahn didn’t have any of those?”
“Neither did we,” the lieutenant commander agreed, “until now.” He pressed a few buttons on the control console at the table’s edge, calling up a different set of images. “I’m thinking they took the comm-drones that were originally servicing the Pentaurus sector and either reverse-engineered them or just adapted a few for their purposes.”
“Well I guess we can’t get too upset if they’re just communicating with neighboring systems.”
“They may be doing more than that.”
Cameron shot him a concerned look. “I don’t like the sound of that.”
Lieutenant Commander Shinoda sighed. “I showed these scans to Lieutenant Parsa in engineering. It looks to him like the Dusahn combined four jump comm-drones, probably to increase their range.”
“If they’re series-jump capable, why would they need to?” Cameron wondered.
“The original jump comm-drones were series-jump capable, but they were powered by fusion reactors,” the lieutenant commander explained. “It took them several minutes to recharge for the next jump. That problem was solved when they replaced them with mini-ZPEDs. Four separate jump drives would allow for shorter intervals between jumps, allowing the drone to reach its final destination more quickly.”
“If they wanted to send a message someplace far away, why not just replace the fusion reactor with a mini-ZPED? Seems like it would be easier than cobbling together four comm-drones.”
“We took out their ability to manufacture ZPEDs when we attacked Rama a few months back,” he reminded her. “They’re probably in short supply.”
“So they must’ve really wanted to send a message badly. But to where?”
The lieutenant commander reached for the control console again, calling up a three-dimensional holographic star chart that hovered over the table. “The original departure course was in the general direction of both the Orswellan and the Rogen systems,” he informed her as the departure trajectory drew its way across the holographic map.
“You think they still have operatives in those systems?” Cameron wondered.
“Possibly, but even one of the fusion-powered comm-drones would make the trip in a few hours. So why go to the trouble of building one with a shorter trip time?” The lieutenant commander adjusted the controls again, expanding the star map to include additional sectors. “It wouldn’t be a huge course change to steer them toward SilTek.”
Cameron felt a sinking feeling. “Are you suggesting that the recon pass was a diversion so that they could put operatives on SilTek?”
“Or worse,” the lieutenant commander replied. “Maybe those aren’t comm-drones at all, but weapons.”
“I’m assuming you didn’t detect any warheads?”
“That doesn’t mean they didn’t have them.” The lieutenant commander called up the image of the comm-drone again, this time zooming in tightly on its forward half. “The nose has been altered. According to Parsa, it’s big enough to be heavy shielding to hide a nuke or even an antimatter warhead. If it is, the target world wouldn’t even realize it was a weapon until it was too late.”
Cameron felt that sinking feeling getting worse. “That’s a lot of assumptions,” she said, hoping that the lieutenant commander would start shooting holes in his own theories, thus easing her concerns.
“That’s what you pay me for.”
Cameron sighed. “How many did they launch?”
“Four that we know of,” he replied. “All of them on the same departure trajectory.”
The sinking feeling was quickly turning into a knot in her stomach. “We need to find those things, whatever they are.”
“If they split up, it’s going to be difficult,” the lieutenant commander warned.
“We’ll start with the Falcon,” Cameron said, undaunted. “They’ve got the best long-range sensors. Send them along the departure trajectory, short intervals, checking for old jump light along the way. If they are weapons, it’s more likely they’re headed for SilTek than Rogen or Orswella.”
“Let’s hope you’re right,” the lieutenant commander stated.
“Let’s hope you’re wrong,” Cameron insisted, “and they’re just comm-drones after all.”
* * *
Josh took a seat at the Voss’s starboard auxiliary console, a cup of hot tea in his hand. There was nothing worse than standing watch while on the ground. The away team had only been gone for an hour, and he was already bored.
Josh sipped his tea, savoring its intense flavor. He activated the comm-channel, connecting the command deck intercom with the comm-sets the two Ghatazhak standing guard at the mouth of the cave were wearing. “So, you guys freezing your asses off yet?”
“Nope. We’re Ghatazhak, remember?” Mori replied over comms.
Josh smiled. “You brought your bodysuits, didn’t you.”
“Damn right, we did.”
“I gotta get me one of those,” Josh commented.
“They’re too big for a runt like you.”
“Ha, ha.” Josh took a long, loud sip of his tea. “In case you were wondering, that sound was me taking a nice big sip of my steaming hot, spiced marajin tea.”
“You’re such a dick, Josh.”
“What’s the matter, Jokay?” Josh chuckled. “Forgot your bodysuit?”
“No, but my nose is fucking frozen,” Deeks replied. “We should’ve worn our full combat gear. Helmet, visor, and all.”
The proximity alert indicator flashed, beeping several times. Josh leaned forward, calling up the ship’s sensors on the console display. “Uh, guys?” he called, his brow furrowing. “I’m picking up movement out there.”
“Probably just that bear coming back again,” Mori opined.
“If it is, he brought friends.” Josh adjusted the sensors, reducing the range of the scans to increase the resolution. “I count four contacts moving toward you. Looks like they’re about three hundred mete
rs out.” The contacts suddenly disappeared from the sensor display. “Wait… Shit, they’re gone.”
“What do you mean, they’re gone?” Jokay asked.
“I mean they’ve dropped off the screen. Probably a dip in the terrain. Plus these damned sensors don’t work for shit from inside this cave. Something in the mountain messes with them.”
“How the hell did you get a scan of the interior before we jumped in?” Mori wondered.
“I kicked her sideways as I passed the entrance. Got my full array on it.”
“You must’ve been awfully low.”
“You bet I was. It was a sweet move.” The contacts appeared on the screen again, except now they were further apart. “They’re back. Still moving toward you. They’re spreading out.”
“How far out are they?” Mori asked.
“Two fifty. Looks like they’ve picked up the pace a bit.”
“Are they randomly paced, or grouped in pairs?”
Josh studied the sensor display a moment. The screen refreshed, then beeped another warning as the four contacts suddenly became eight. “Oh shit! There’re eight of them, not four! Four pairs, still advancing. Spreading out line abreast.”
“Better wake the troops, Josh,” Jokay suggested over comms. “It looks like we’ve got company.”
Josh switched on the ship-wide intercom. “Heads up, everyone! We’ve got company!”
“You might want to consider powering up the forward shields,” Mori suggested.
“No can do,” Josh replied. “Not inside the cave. We don’t know how stable it is.”
“Then put Marcus on the nose gun, just in case.”
“Marcus!” Josh called over the intercom. “Man the nose gun!”
“What have you got, Mori?” Specialist Grimard asked over comms.
“No visual yet, Effi,” Mori replied. “Josh picked up eight unknown ground contacts, two hundred meters and closing. They’re moving in pairs, line abreast.”