Merkiaari Wars: 04 - Operation Breakout

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Merkiaari Wars: 04 - Operation Breakout Page 18

by Mark E. Cooper


  “You’re just tired. You’re imagining things.”

  Maybe... probably.

  It didn’t matter if the reason was real; it felt real even if the source was merely her imagination. Besides, she couldn’t sleep. If she put herself into maintenance mode, her processor would enforce her downtime for however many hours she chose, but what if the ship needed her? Oh sure, she could set some kind of an alert to wake her, but she couldn’t set alerts for every contingency. She hardly knew herself what could go wrong; she wasn’t really navy after all. She knew how to push the right buttons to make it go, but she really didn’t know how it all worked. And besides, she wasn’t happy with being awoken after the shit had hit the fan; she wanted to prevent it from hitting the fan in the first place. So she stayed awake and prowled the empty ship. What else was she going to do with her time? Her research into Northcliff was complete and she couldn’t do anything more until she translated back to n-space.

  She entered main engineering and paused to listen. Nah, it sounded the same as last time—no warnings, beeping sounds or flashing lights greeted her. Still, while she was here she might as well run a diagnostic directly off the boards responsible for the actual systems they controlled. She turned to her right and headed for the main engineering control boards ignoring the two story bulk of the foldspace initiator coil that ran horizontally along her path. She had to pass between the initiator on her right and the drive assembly itself on her left. The huge machines dwarfed her. The almost subliminal howling coming from the drive as it worked its incomprehensible magic to propel her through foldspace set her teeth on edge. She laid a palm on the drive and felt the vibration, listened to the low frequency keening howl of stressed machinery just within the audible range of Human hearing; she didn’t need to change parameters to hear it. It was clearly audible. Real, not imagination. She was pushing the ship hard, but it felt the same as the last time she was here. Harbinger could take it.

  “Tough bitch, aren’t you baby,” she whispered stroking the metal. She closed her eyes listening as the drive crooned its song to her. “Just like me. We don’t need anyone to do our jobs, do we?”

  Hell no.

  She moved on and came to the engineering station that she wanted. She could have used her neural interface even here, but that would have negated her reason for visiting. She ran her hands briefly over the panel, stroking the shiny surface. Why did engineers always make their toys so wonderfully touchable? So tactile. Had a soldier designed it, it would’ve had a completely different feel. Engineers liked shiny. They got off on clean, smooth, ultra efficient designs—it was like a religion to them. If something broke, they couldn’t be trusted to simply fix it; they had to redesign the bloody thing!

  She smiled and ran a diagnostic on the drive.

  She was no engineer, but she did appreciate efficiency. In her line of work it was a life saver. Vipers were efficient at everything they did, and she had been that way even before enhancement. So it didn’t take her long to decide her paranoia was just that. Everything was fine. Good. Nothing to worry about... she ran the diagnostic a second time growling under her breath. Stupid. She wasn’t like this usually. She was never unsure of herself when in her element. On an op or on the battlefield doubt never entered her head. Often wrong but never in doubt Stone would say. She smirked imagining him saying just that, but then scowled. That bloody man was in her head way too much. She had to cut him out of her thoughts and feelings before she reached Northcliff, because the next time they met was sure to be bloody.

  She patted the so touchable interface and headed out.

  Day 7

  She had broken her record, but she wasn’t happy about it. 180 hours without sleep. She’d needed to order IMS to begin administering periodic stimulants. It was a way of gaining a boost without resorting to melee mode, which would be pointless in this situation and not something to attempt for days on end in any case. A chemical boost was nothing in comparison, but she needed it. Her enhancements meant her body didn’t need the help, but her mind most definitely did. Strong coffee just wasn’t cutting it anymore. As long as she ate regular meals and took her supplements, her systems would keep running optimally. Her processor regulated everything, keeping her in tip top shape and fighting trim, but her attention span and ability to think straight had begun to degrade. Hence the IMS sanctioned stimulants circulating through her blood right now.

  She was in her cabin again, attempting to keep her mind occupied with make-work. She couldn’t add anything to Operation Breakout—her code name for the op she intended to use to save her brother—so she was going through the stuff she had originally been sent to Helios to investigate. Not that she could do anything with it, but it kept her busy and not stressing about things she couldn’t do anything about. The ship was running itself, and despite her misgivings about it, she hadn’t needed to intervene in anything even once. She would keep up her inspections, but just for something to do, and to put her mind at ease rather than any real need to make adjustments.

  She closed the file she’d had open on her internal display, frowning at what she had read. She wondered if the others had noticed that all the Humans, and the Merkiaari too for that matter, had died of wounds incurred in battle. The new aliens had not. Why then were they dead and found together? In what battle could so many different people—and she called the Merki people only reluctantly—be involved and the Alliance unaware of it?

  The current fear according to the reports was that a new incursion was underway in the Border Zone somewhere, but that didn’t make sense to her. Not even a little bit. What was she missing that had so convinced everyone else? Oh, she understood the fear. Of course she did. Bethany’s World, her homeworld, had suffered an incursion that inflicted terrible losses to her people and damage to her world. The psychological effect of that incursion was still being felt by her people even to this day. No, she did understand but that didn’t make the facts as she saw them add up to a new incursion. Were they really saying that three new alien races were living on a planet or planets in the Border Zone and no one knew? She didn’t believe it, she just didn’t.

  Another important point she couldn’t ignore was the origins of the dead soldiers. They had each worn different uniforms. That was key to her doubts. When was the last time so many different forces had been deployed together? The Shan incursion came to mind, but outside of that? She couldn’t think of a single instance in recent years. When the Alliance had a problem these days, the Council sent the navy and marines to sort it out, and then if garrisons were deemed necessary, the army went in to keep the peace. They didn’t send forces culled from its member worlds, if for no other reason than simple efficiency. They all had different command structures. That was one reason why the Alliance navy, marines, and army existed in the first place.

  No, there was something off about the entire thing.

  She opened another file and watched one of the autopsies being carried out. She didn’t pay too much attention and quickly skipped through it not really expecting to learn anything new. The cause of death for all but the new aliens was obvious, so she skipped ahead until she reached one of those examinations. She was very interested to watch the doctors remove the alien’s clothing, because it was obvious to her right away that they weren’t wearing uniforms. The aliens were civs, she was sure of it. Uniforms tended to have things in common like insignia. Even the Merki used graphics on their uniforms, so it wasn’t just a Human tradition. The new alien’s clothing was devoid of anything like that. She supposed they might not use insignia. The Shan didn’t after all, but then they didn’t use clothes either! She had to go with gut instinct here, and her instinct was telling her these new aliens weren’t military. All three were different races, but all three wore a collar of similar design. That was interesting. Very. Perhaps the collars were their form of displaying a Shan’s clan or caste?

  Hmmm...

  “Cause of death was...?” she murmured and frowned as she found th
e information. “General system failure? What the hell does that mean?”

  It meant the aliens had stopped breathing, that’s all it meant. A more useless diagnosis was hard to imagine. Basically, the doctors could find no single cause of death. No wounds, no sign of disease, nothing on the toxicological screening to suggest a cause; they were dead just because. She scowled and skipped ahead to the end where someone, one of the techs this time, was examining one of the collars. Kate paused the image. The collar wasn’t a piece of clothing or an insignia of any kind. It was a device of some kind. Playing the vid again, she watched as the tech took it apart trying to understand its use and construction. Might it be some kind of comm? Wrapping around the neck it might operate like a throat microphone. Not according to the final report though. It had no recognisable transmitter embedded within it, but it did have a receiver. Very odd.

  She closed the file and opened another.

  This one made her pause. It was vid from Jean de Vienne’s bridge recorders—raw footage from the ship’s black box. It had been abridged for the purposes of the investigation and showed the time leading to the capture of the bridge. Paul was on the bridge sitting at Scan, but his attention was all for his captain who was threatening to scuttle the ship. She knew that hadn’t happened, but how it didn’t happen surprised her. Paul stood and simply shot the captain in the back before he could make good on the threat. Nice. It was something she would have done, but it surprised her that Paul had taken the responsibility and initiative. He had changed a lot. She had expected changes, but not in the direction he had taken.

  She reran the vid again and again, watching her brother gun his captain down in cold blood trying to make the new reality jibe with her memories of her kid brother following her around. She couldn’t do it. This man was a stranger to her. He was still her brother, but she didn’t know him at all. The boy she had known was very far from the man he’d become, but then she’d changed too. She wasn’t looking forward to explaining to him just how much she had in fact changed. He couldn’t be called a proper Bethanite anymore, not from the evidence before her, but had he changed enough to understand her choices? No proper Bethanite would. Vipers were anathema. They were soulless machines, cyborg freaks that had betrayed Bethany’s children into death. She knew the real story, and the tales taught were very far from the truth, but Paul hadn’t seen everything she had seen. When he learned that she was one of those cyborgs now it could turn ugly. It didn’t matter. He was her brother and always would be. She would save him despite himself if that was needed.

  She sighed morosely and closed the file. The next one was a vid of the bridge again. The captain was dead and the marines had disarmed everyone ready to take them into custody. She watched as the crew were searched and led away. She frowned as Paul’s turn came and paused the playback. There was something in his hand... she reversed the vid and played it again. The marine approached and Paul coughed. He raised the hand to cover his mouth briefly and lowered it again when the marine reacted predictably by aiming his rifle at him. She paused the vid. Paul’s hand was empty. She reversed the vid and played it again in an effort to see what he had transferred to his mouth.

  “Son of a...”

  It was a data crystal. What the hell was so important that he’d risked getting shot over? She would have to ask him, because he swallowed it as she watched. The marine didn’t catch the move, and after a quick search Paul was led away to his confinement. Whatever the data was, it must have been important to him, but she couldn’t see how it could affect what she had to do. She put it out of her mind.

  Day 9

  “Surprised?” Stone said with the grin Kate knew so well.

  She nodded and stopped the playback. Surprised didn’t really cover it. She was a single day out of Northcliff. Tomorrow her plan to save her brother would meet reality. With that in mind she had decided to get ready by doing something she’d been putting off the entire trip. Salvaging Stone’s gear. She knew he wouldn’t have left Snakeholme without bringing a few goodies. Like her beloved HTR that she had brought as a contingency despite knowing the mission didn’t require it, he would have brought something interesting with him. Considering his background, whatever Stone had decided to bring would most likely prove extremely useful at gathering intel. He was the go to guy for data after all, just as she was the go to girl for shooting people in the face.

  She smirked, but the expression didn’t last long. She glanced around Stone’s meticulously tidy cabin and back down to the compad he’d left out for her to find. She didn’t play his message, but knelt before the battered looking trunk. It was a civilian design used by millions of travellers throughout the Alliance. They were equipped with anti-grav and very popular with tourists in the Border Zone. Old and worn, aluminium sides dented and scratched, exactly the right type for her destination... it would blend in splendidly. She flipped open the catches and lifted the lid.

  Clothes. She lifted them out, her eyebrows rising when she realised they were women’s clothes not a man’s. She shook some of them out and smirked. Yeah, it was as she’d thought. Stone had chosen blindingly upbeat touristy colours. Always good camouflage in the Border Zone because the natives would beat feet to avoid anyone they suspected were tourists in need. He had her sizes right of course, but he’d also supplied clothes for Gina. Kate was a giant compared to her friend who wasn’t much taller than Stone even in her regulation boots. Kate had always been very leggy even as a kid. She went through the various outfits but found nothing suitable for a man. He had obviously not expected to be with her.

  She frowned.

  The trunk contained more than clothes. There were sample cases containing... cosmetics? She stared at all the different varieties, but there were only one or two she recognised. Goop Original was one of her favourites for styling her hair for example, but she hadn’t heard of most of the other brands. No way in hell they were legit. They were stored in small amounts the way a salesperson would store samples he was trying to peddle. A good cover and one she might well consider using on the station tomorrow. They were some of Stone’s specials she was sure. Gina would probably call them spook supplies. Kate grinned, imagining her friend’s face if she’d seen this.

  She didn’t know what it was all for yet. No doubt there would be a list on the compad. None of it appeared overtly dangerous, which was good because she had to get it down world through customs. So there would be no weapons here. She would have to source those on Northcliff. Of course she could be wrong. Knowing Stone, she might combine two or more of the cosmetics to make explosives. That wouldn’t surprise her in the least, she had used that trick herself a time or two.

  Kate pushed to her feet and backed up to sit on Stone’s rack. She held the compad between her knees and played his message.

  “Surprised?” Stone said with that shit-eating grin of his. “If you’re in my cabin reading this, then I guess Marion was right and I’m dead. She said you would kill me one day.” He shrugged. “Whatever you did or didn’t do, know that I don’t blame you. I knew what you were from the moment we first met, and I knew what I was getting into. I know what your brother means to you... I remember what having one was like, so don’t sweat it.”

  “Smug bastard,” Kate muttered. “You think you know me, yet you thought I’d kill you and run?”

  Then again, if pushed to it she might well have done just that. He would have needed to push her hard for that to have happened. Very hard. Maybe if he tried to physically restrain her from leaving? Yeah, that would have done it. She would have beaten the crap out of him if he’d tried, but to kill him... Well, it hadn’t come to that had it? With luck, it never would. She needed to get in, grab her brother, and get the hell out before Stone could catch up with them.

  “...don’t forget Fuentez isn’t you. Make allowances and use her properly. Don’t put her in the position of killing innocents. She won’t do it, Kate. She isn’t like us. You’ll need to set it up in a way that leaves her in the c
lear. We both understand some things need to be done despite collateral damage, but she’ll stress over it and fuck it up. She won’t run with you. She’ll get herself killed one day, trying to save everyone but herself... anyway, that’s a problem for Eric to deal with if he can.

  “I’ve put together a few things for you and Fuentez. I think you’ll find them useful. The I.Ds are clean, so you can use them or not. It’s up to you, but they’ll withstand scrutiny. The passwords for the wands are on this compad. You can draw up to fifty thousand from each, and yes the money is untraceable. The regiment has funds stashed in all major banks for this sort of deal. You won’t have any problems.” Stone looked away for a moment toward the cabin’s hatch. “I’ve got to go. You’re coming over soon for a little one on one,” he grinned like a naughty little boy. “Good luck… and Kate? Run far and fast. The General will send someone after you unless you turn yourself in. We both know that ain’t happening. Stone out.”

  Kate pursed her lips and played the entire thing again.

  “...that ain’t happening. Stone out.”

  “Richmond clear,” she whispered and turned the compad off.

  * * *

  Part III

  15 ~ Bad News

  Helios System, Border Zone

  The foldspace drone translated back to n-space within a few kilometres of its intended destination. The accuracy could be deemed miraculous, but it didn’t care after its initial assessment of the system satisfied its programming. All it cared about was determining that it was in the right place and safe from collision. It decided that it was. It scanned its surroundings a second time, looking for Merkiaari ships and emissions, but found nothing matching the profiles in its database. It decided self-immolation was not required, and deactivated the nuclear device built into its core. Finally, with something approaching electronic satisfaction at a job well done, it performed its primary task of transmitting its data to one of the ships docked at station, and then signalled its readiness for pickup to Helios Port Control. With nothing else to do, it activated its beacon and went to sleep.

 

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