"Interesting," Murph said, the skepticism dripping off his words.
"I was about to pull the plug on this mission when we found another dead alien contact." Jacob waved towards the back office. "But then this clown shows up and starts making offers. I get the feeling that if I didn't accept, he wasn't about to just let us walk away with no hard feelings."
"Yeah," Murph said, rubbing his scalp. "Shit…you're right. If you turned him down, we'd be grabbed before we made it to the ship and have a professional interrogation crew getting the information from us."
The team collected their gear and headed back for the lifts. Jacob took point, and Murph watched their rear as Mettler helped MG along. The medic drew the short straw since he was about the same height as the injured man, and they could move faster with MG leaning on him instead of reaching up for Murph or Jacob.
Even with his head still fuzzy from the concussion blast, Jacob's thoughts were racing as he tried to cover all the angles and plan for any contingency. Unfortunately, a short-handed Obsidian on a ship he barely trusted to stay together didn't have too many options available to them. It's likely that Tulden knew that and felt comfortable offering them a deal so readily since they couldn't really pose much of a threat to him or his operation. Jacob just wondered how much firepower the agent had on the station. More highly trained operatives like him, or perhaps a full platoon of shock troops just waiting for the chance to tear someone apart.
When they reached the ship, nothing seemed out of place, but the ramp was lowered when Jacob had explicitly ordered them to keep her locked up. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and a fresh surge of adrenaline chased the cobwebs away as his over-stressed mind snapped back into focus.
"Look sharp," he said, unslinging his weapon and walking up the ramp with Murph. Mettler sat MG down on one of their transit crates and joined his crew, weapon ready. The trio began clearing the ship from stern to bow, finding nothing odd except for one thing: Sully was asleep in the cramped compartment just aft of the flightdeck, but Taylor was missing.
"He was taking watch," Sully said, yawning as he sat up in his rack. "I didn't hear the alert for the ramp dropping over the intercom, so it was either disabled or I slept right through it. Did he go off looking for you guys?"
"We're not overdue," Jacob said. "And I'd hope he would know better than to just wander off and leave the ship hanging open."
"He would," Mettler said firmly. "Taylor is a solid Marine. Something is wrong or he would be here."
"Fuck, Murph…check our cargo!" Jacob snapped. "All that bullshit with Tulden may have been to delay us." Murph ran down the corridor to the engineering spaces where the data core was stashed.
"What's a Tulden?" Sully asked.
"I'll explain later," Jacob said. "Mettler, we're sweeping the outside of the ship, and then we're searching the local area for Taylor. Maybe we'll get lucky and this is just a—"
"Cargo is secure. I moved it to another location for now until we can find a better place to stash it. I'm worried that its original spot might be compromised. I also found out how the ramp was dropped without anyone knowing," Murph said, out of breath as he came back. "Access panel was opened, and a tap was placed on one of the data lines…I can't tell who made the tap, but it was advanced enough to worm in and command the ramp open and the alarms off while being hooked to a non-essential bus."
"That takes a decent amount of knowledge," Jacob said. "I'm still leaning towards Tulden and his ConFed buddies."
"Agreed," Murph said. "And he'll be here in a couple hours."
"Well, let's make sure we're ready to greet him," Jacob said. "MG, you good to go?"
"If it means fucking up whoever grabbed Taylor, then yeah…I'm ready to kick some ass, LT."
15
Marcus Webb didn't like where the evidence he'd collected was pointing.
He'd been up for nearly three days straight, personally going through the raw data to try and figure out what happened to his Scout Fleet crews. It had been an effort borne of desperation as he frantically searched for proof that the obvious wasn't true. But the deeper he dug, the more he had to admit it to himself, someone high-placed within NAVSOC was feeding live intel to the enemy. It had resulted in the deaths of over two dozen highly trained operators and a trawler crew of eighty-six spacers.
The timing of the events left little doubt. The teams had been given recent move orders, all under tight security and through back channels, and all of them had been hit within days of relocating. The loss of Team Diamond was an especially brutal blow. With Ezra Mosler dead and Obsidian at half-manning, Diamond and Cobalt were the only full-combat ready 3rd Scout Corps teams he'd had available. The other five teams were all waiting on replacement personnel or hadn't even been fully activated in the first place.
After admitting to himself that someone within his inner circle was a traitor, he was now trying to zero in on who had opportunity. Now, he only hoped it was just one person who had betrayed their homeworld and not a network of people within NAVSOC. The former could be dealt with by a single execution, the latter meant not only would he be unable to chop the head off the snake, but his own life would probably be in danger once they knew he was on to them.
"Bennet!" he roared, not bothering with the intercom.
"Sir?" his aide asked once the hatch slid open.
"Tell Commander Duncan to get departure clearance from Terranovus," Webb said, standing up.
"Where are we heading, sir?"
"We'll file a flight plan for Olympus," Webb said. "We might detour along the way, but I want to be out of short-haul com range of Terranovus as soon as possible, and inform Taurus Station that all Scout Fleet operations will be run out of this ship. We have enough handlers, don't we?"
"We should, sir," Bennet said, consulting his tablet. "There are nine qualified black ops handlers aboard at any given time, and we're down to three units still left in the field."
"Good…then get your ass moving. Tell Duncan he has a move order and to start breaking orbit as soon as we have clearance."
"Aye, sir."
If he couldn't root out the traitors in time to help Obsidian, he could at least bypass them. By running the operations directly out of the Kentucky, he cut out at least three layers of bureaucracy and potential security leaks from Taurus Station's administrative and secure communications sections.
Even if he found them, he was just patching a leak in a crumbling dam. The real problem was Margaret Jansen and her goddamned One World faction. She'd managed to get a beachhead in among the UEN's officer corps and had been successfully recruiting well after the Cridal had chased her and her Ull allies away from Earth. What was really depressing was that they'd even declassified and made public what she'd been up to on Terranovus; building a secret battle fleet, conspiring with alien powers against Earth, and attempting to assassinate a sitting US president and, somehow, all that only managed to increase her recruiting. When he thought about it too much, he could swear he felt a stroke coming on.
He walked over to the wall display and pulled up the star chart he wanted, checking the established routes and trying to decide where he could best position the Kentucky to help Lieutenant Brown without being too close. The last time Brown had checked in, they'd just arrived on Colton Hub, a place with such a nasty reputation that it almost defied belief. Obsidian was also the first Scout Fleet team to ever visit the infamous deep space outpost. Webb was nervous about sending the kid into a snake pit like that, but he was more nervous about what would happen if the ConFed discovered the Eagle's Talon in a rogue fleet that had attacked their capital. The ConFed would, without a doubt, retaliate against the Cridal Cooperative as a whole, but they'd probably burn Earth to a cinder just as an object lesson.
"Come on, Jake…don't let me down, kid."
"That's him…just walking across the deck without a care in the world."
"He'll have backup placed around the hangar," Murph insisted. "Let him get inside
the ship."
The ConFed agent approached the ship cautiously but confidently. He would discreetly check each concealment spot when he passed it, but he didn't slow or break stride. The lack of timidity, and the fact he didn't seem too bothered about checking behind him, just directly to the sides, told Jacob his backup must be near the entrance to the hangar bay.
"Show time," Jacob said, walking to the end of the cargo bay deck and standing there with his hands on his hips, making sure to look as bored and non-aggressive as he could.
"Lieutenant Brown," Tulden said in greeting, stopping five meters from the edge of the ramp. "Is everything in order?"
"More or less," Jacob said. "You have what we want?"
"It's here," Tulden said evasively. "The core?"
"In there," Jacob jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "I’m not doing this out in the open where one of your guys can take a shot at me as soon as it appears."
"I thought we'd gained some level of trust between us," Tulden said.
"You're kidding, right?" Jacob laughed. "I appreciate you letting me keep my brains inside my head, but you're still a ConFed Intel agent, and your reputation precedes you. But yes…we are still operating under the accords we agreed to previously."
"Can I come aboard?"
"Be my guest," Jacob said, turning his back on the agent and walking into the dimly lit hold. Tulden followed, appearing a little less confident and trying to see into the hold before committing to fully entering. Jacob ignored him and strolled to the hatch that led to the ship's interior as if he hadn't a care in the world.
Tulden, apparently satisfied Jacob wasn't setting him up, stepped over the threshold into the ship, placing his right foot down on the trigger pad for an anti-personnel stun mine. Hundreds of darts launched out of the two mines, one on each side of the entryway, and stuck in Tulden's exposed skin. Before he could react, the small darts unleashed their high-voltage payload. The darts were all networked and communicating so that the amount of jolt delivered was just enough to incapacitate, not barbeque.
"Close the ramp," Jacob said. Murph got up from behind one of the stacks of transit crates and ran to the control panel while Mettler and MG brought a heavy chair over they could strap Tulden to.
"I wish Taylor was here…I'm getting readings on a lot of wetware, LT, but nothing that my med scanner can positively identify," Mettler said. "I can't tell you for sure if closing the rear ramp will cut off the signal."
"Let's assume it won't," Jacob said. "Doesn't matter. Wake him up." Mettler read Tulden's neural implant to determine species-specific dosage for the stimulant cocktail that would shake him out of the shock the mines had given him.
"Brown…you've just made an unbelievably stupid mistake," Tulden said. The agent's eyes cleared and focused on him alarmingly fast, and Jacob figured he must be loaded with all sorts of gadgets from ConFed Intel that would help him out in situations like this.
"Those are the only kinds of mistakes I make, asshole," Jacob said.
"What is an asshole?" Tulden cocked his head as he puzzled the term out.
"Doesn't matter. Where's our crewman?"
"So, I can infer you're missing someone on your crew, and you think I had something to do with it?" Tulden asked. "Why would I bother? That's a lot of work for no payoff. I already have you and your ship. We had an agreement in place to trade the core for information. Why would I jeopardize that to play games by abducting a single member of your crew?"
"Hey! I'm asking the questions here. You think that— What?" Jacob shrugged off Murph's insistent tapping on his shoulder.
"A word, LT?" Jacob turned and followed Murph back to the corner of the cargo bay.
"Why did you interrupt? I think I was doing pretty good," Jacob whispered as Mettler and MG stayed with the prisoner.
"No, you were a sloppy mess," Murph said. "Maybe let me do the interrogations next time since I’m actually trained to extract information, not just annoy and confuse the subject. Either way, I don't think he's lying."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," Murph said. "He's right…as any sort of counterintelligence tactic, this makes no sense. I think we should see if maybe he can help us find Taylor. Time is not on our side…the longer he's missing, the less likely we'll find him alive. If we find him at all."
"Damnit," Jacob hissed. "You think he might know something?"
"He wouldn't have walked in here alone if he had any idea one of ours had been taken," Murph said. "But his resources and local knowledge far exceed our own, and we still have something he wants."
"New deal," Jacob said loudly, walking back over to the chair. "We offer you our profoundest apologies for zapping you, still agree to hand over the core, but you give us a hand seeing where our misplaced crewman is."
"You are the oddest being I've ever encountered," Tulden said, peering intently at Jacob. "You seem to completely change course without knowing all the facts or giving your decisions any real forethought. I genuinely can't tell if you're a tactical genius or a complete imbecile."
"So, you in or out?"
"You invited me here, attacked me, imprisoned me, and now you want to modify our deal so you get more in return for the data core?" Tulden asked.
"Pretty much, yeah."
"Fine," the agent said, slumping back in his seat. "I'll try to track him down. Give me the Nexus Access Address for his com unit and we'll start there."
"MG, free our new friend, please," Murph said.
"If you do something like this again, Lieutenant Brown, I promise I will have you and your crew killed. Painfully," Tulden said. "I prefer to get what I need without undue violence, but my patience has limits, and you've just reached them."
"Understood," Jacob said, trying to sound genuinely contrite and failing completely. "Get us our guy, or tell us where he is, and we'll hand over the core without delay." Tulden just stared at him for a long moment.
"Very well. Please, open the ship back up. I'll come back when I know something. This could take a little bit of time so don't expect miracles."
"I'll take what I can get," Jacob said.
"What should we be doing right now?" Murph asked once Tulden had disappeared.
"We're no good to Taylor in the condition we're in," Jacob said. "I know you're all going to fight me on this, but I need you rested up more than I need you loose in the station chasing your tails. I'm taking first watch, and I want everyone else in their rack."
"LT—"
"This isn't a negotiation, Corporal," Jacob snapped at MG. "You're injured and dead on your feet right now. I want you resting and healing so that when we get a location for Taylor, you're ready. Got it?"
"Aye, sir," MG snarled. The weaponeer stomped off towards berthing, muttering angrily the whole way.
"Like a big, musclebound, borderline-alcoholic toddler," Mettler said.
"Nothing borderline about it," Murph said. "I'll relieve you in four hours."
The sleek, windowless ship that touched down gently in one of the small hangars meant only for official station personnel was like nothing the deck master had ever seen before. It had broadcast the proper authentication codes to land without challenge, but it looked nothing like the boxy VIP shuttles preferred by the cartel bosses or the nondescript ships used by their personal envoys.
The silver ship was also small. Almost the size of a short-range fighter, but it had three slip-drive nacelles in a tri-star configuration, a rarity as most ships used the more stable twin-nacelle configuration. The deck master thought that perhaps it was an unmanned courier ship, which would explain the less stable, but more powerful slip-drive layout. When the hatch opened in the side of the hull, however, he wasn't at all prepared for what stepped out.
Nightmares. He'd only heard of them in legend and almost believed they didn't really exist: Battlesynths.
"C-can I help you?"
"You may. Our ship will require fuel and a drive coolant flush. One of us will remain and supervise your people. Once you
are finished, you are not to approach the ship again. Understood?"
"Y-yes, of course. Fuel and coolant. Right away."
"My thanks," the metal monstrosity said. Two of them strode off across the hangar deck while the third remained with the ship, staring at him. Fighting down the urge to simply run away, he signaled one of his underlings over and relayed the requests, dumping the whole thing in his lap.
The deck master had heard rumors when he'd first had the misfortune of coming to Colton Hub about a single battlesynth that had killed a bunch of people in the lower decks, crazy stories about how it ripped them apart with its hands…and that was just one of them. If the trio he'd just met were intent on violence, he'd rather wait it out in his office, and he'd damn sure not do anything to draw their attention to him.
"How did they get clearance to land in—"
"I don't care how they got it," he hissed at his subordinate. "All I care about is that you and your crew will do anything and everything to make sure they're pleased with our service. Treat them better than if Saditava Mok himself had just landed."
"You're in charge." The young yejic shrugged, waving over his crew to start service on the odd ship.
Jacob sat through his second watch within the last twelve hours. After Murph and Mettler took their turns staring at the external security feeds, he'd decided to let the injured MG sleep through his shift since he couldn't get to sleep himself, anyway. He was sick with worry about Taylor, and even though he logically knew there was nothing he could do without usable intel, just sitting on the ship while his teammate and friend was out there was gnawing at his already frayed nerves.
Tulden still hadn't contacted them with any leads, and that worried Jacob all the more. It meant that Taylor likely hadn't just wandered off for his own reasons but was grabbed by someone who knew what they were doing and would know how to shield his device signatures from the Nexus.
"What the hell?" he muttered, taking manual control of one of the aft imagers as something odd caught his eye. It looked like two beings in fire-resistant suits at first, but once the imager focused in on the pair, he could see what they were and knew what they were there for.
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