by D K Evans
“Right, well… I’ve seen this before. Federation ambushes set up on supply drops that were totally secret.”
“Obviously not secret enough,” Ford grunted as she swiveled one of her computer screens to show him a spreadsheet, “What am I looking at here?”
“That’s a quick list I made of rebel casualties over the past three months. Notice anything?”
He ran his eyes over the columns before settling on the dates, “Most of them are from the past twelve weeks… and we’re losing people at an increasing rate.”
“Bingo. And almost every one of these guys was a courier. Killed in an ambush just like yours.”
“Damn,” the hairs stood up on the back of Ford’s neck and a cold tremor ran through his legs; his job had somehow just got a lot more dangerous. He thought back to the dogfight and just how close he had come to being turned to nothing more than a few scraps of floating debris.
“So you think the Federation has broken our encryption?” he asked.
“Not likely,” Ellery shook her head, “We change up protocols every few weeks – if they did break it, it would give them an advantage for a few days at most. This is a long-term pattern.”
“So where does this guy fit into the picture?” Ford asked, jerking his thumb at the man from the pod.
“A few weeks ago, command asked our benefactors to see if they could find any information on what the Federation’s up to. We were told to expect some intelligence to be delivered.”
“Well they realize that they can just stick the data on a hard drive and have us pick it up right? They don’t need to send a human popsicle to give us the message in person.”
Aeton chuckled but was silenced by a warning glance from Ellery.
“These are the instructions we’ve been given, Ford. We’re going to listen to what our new friend has to say and then plan accordingly.”
“Actually,” said a rasping voice from the corner of the room, “I think that I should be the one who does the planning.”
The pale man had finished tinkering with the drinks cabinet and slowly paced over to them.
“The nature of the task before us is quite sensitive. I’ll trust you and your personnel to handle the fine details, but I think that the broad strokes should be left to me. That way we can avoid any …unnecessary errors.”
The three sat in a stunned silence for a short while. There was something unnervingly casual about the way their guest spoke. It was as though he was a bored customer service agent speaking on the phone to an irate customer, having the exact same conversation he had a thousand times before. Ford spoke up.
“Seriously, who is this guy?” he asked.
“Your commander summarized things quite well,” the pale man smiled, “I’ve been sent by your benefactors to provide vital intelligence on enemy operations as well as to assist you in any way I can.”
“Yeah, that doesn’t really answer my question. Who are these ‘benefactors’ I keep hearing so much about.”
“I’m afraid that only the highest-ranking members of your rebellion are allowed access to that information,” the pale man said, “After all, it would put my employers in a very difficult position if the Federation was to discover their identity.”
“Then it seems a bit risky for them to send you in person if you know so much!” he scoffed in reply.
“I can assure you that I have undergone extensive mental and physical reconditioning that render me quite unsusceptible to torture, if that is what you are implying.”
“Modifications?” Ford ran his eye over the pale man’s figure. It would certainly explain his unnatural agility and strength. The gash above his eye was already starting to heal.
“Must be the latest work for them to be so unobtrusive,” Ford observed, “I wouldn’t have thought that anybody could get that kind of work done too easily outside of the core systems around Earth.”
“I can also assure you that making small talk is just as ineffective as torture,” the pale man said with a wry smile.
“If you two lovebirds are quite finished, can we get back to the topic at hand?” Ellery sighed.
“Of course!” the pale man walked around the desk and leaned over the computer, bringing up a list of personnel and available ships, “Is this everything?”
“There are some craft undergoing refurbishment, but yeah, that’s mostly everything,” she replied with a raised eyebrow.
“We’ll need more fighters,” the pale man said bluntly.
“Fighters?” Aeton asked, suddenly animated, “What the hell for?”
“Well,” the pale man’s eyes carried on scrolling through the list of inventory, “You have enough bombers and attack craft to do some serious damage. But for what’s coming, you’ll need to clear a path for them first.”
“So now this is some kind of search and destroy mission? Isn’t this better suited for one of the larger groups? Here we just do the occasional raid or sabotage mission …not large operations. The rebellion has an actual fleet that would be a much better fit for something like this.”
“Oh I think you’ll do just fine. This will be a quick strike. It’ll be over in minutes if all goes well. And afterwards, your communications should be safe as ever.”
“So we’re assaulting some kind of listening post, then?” Aeton guessed.
“You could say that,” the pale man murmured cryptically, “The manifest shows that you have a small-capacity carrier docked here. Is it combat-worthy?”
“It’s makeshift, but I daresay it could do the job.”
“Good. All we need is for it to get us to the target area and then out again.”
“And just where will we be going?” Ellery asked testily.
“That’s need-to-know,” the pale man replied.
Ford fought the urge to smile. Despite the bruises he could feel starting to flare up on his ribs, he was starting to like their new colleague.
CHAPTER FIVE
“So that’s it? You’re just going to follow his commands without asking any questions? Where are you even going?” Aeton was clenching and unclenching his fists as he followed them into the hangar.
“Simple,” Ellery answered, “I’m going to get some more pilots – I know a guy who haunts the refueling plant near Guranul IV who might be up for a fight. Besides, I’m not following orders here, Aeton; there’s just no better option.”
“Sure there is. You could just double check whatever information he’s feeding you before diving headlong into some harebrained scheme. The guy’s only a few minutes out of hypersleep for crying out loud! His brain could be scrambled!”
“I appreciate your concern and your preference for doing things by the book. But in this case, we just don’t have the time,” Ellery said as she pulled her flight suit from the rack and slid it on over her overalls in a well-practiced shrug, “After all, the Federation could hit us at any time. We need to strike first.”
Ford stayed silent as they crossed over to the waiting shuttle craft, preferring to stay quietly amused at Aeton’s sudden change of heart now that he wasn’t in his customary position of control over the group’s comings and goings. The pilots and maintenance crews gathered round as Ellery motioned them over with a lazy wave of her hand.
“Alright,” she said, addressing the crowd from atop the shuttle’s ramp, “We’ve just been sent a new asset…”
The pale man gave a curt nod to the assembled personnel as a murmur ran through the group.
“…as well as some vital intelligence,” she continued, “At this moment, I’m heading to Guranul IV with Ford to get some reinforcements. In the meantime, our new carrier should be prepared for action.”
Another murmur ran through the group, louder this time as exited glances flitted back and forth.
“There’s a new mission,” Ellery raised her voice above the hubbub, “One that will let us hit the Federation right in the core of their war machine. With that in mind, I want all available strike craft and fi
ghter squadrons to transfer over to the carrier immediately.”
“What, now?” Hubbard asked from the rear of the crowd.
“I said ‘immediately’, didn’t I?” Ellery grinned, “This time, we’re taking the fight to the enemy’s doorstep!”
Another series of excited whispers rippled around the cavernous room as Ford watched the fighter jocks’ eyes light up with the prospect of seeing some real combat. He almost rolled his eyes as Pim stepped forward at the head of his squadron.
“I take it this has something to do with the guy you had locked away in hypersleep, right?” Pim asked, making all eyes turn to the pale man, who was leaning impassively against the shuttle’s hull.
“Yes,” Ellery answered with a sharp glare in Aeton’s direction, “And word certainly travels fast around here.”
“Right. Well how do we even know his info is good?”
“Command vouched for him. That’s all you need to know.”
“Understood ma’am.”
‘What a kiss-ass,’ thought Ford.
“Does he at least have a name?” Hubbard asked.
“My name is irrelevant to the matter at hand,” the pale man curly answered.
“What about his radio call sign then?” Hubbard pressed, waving his data pad in the air.
“How about ‘Iceman’?” one of the maintenance crew called out, drawing a few chuckles from the crowd.
“No fucking way!” Pim folded his arms over his chest, “My squadron has the only ‘Iceman’ in this outfit.”
One of his heavyset flunkies stepped forward and nodded in agreement, his cheeks flushing with indignation.
“What about ‘Snowflake’ then?” Ford said out loud, “Sure sounds better than the alternatives: Dozy… Sleeping Beauty… Fridge… Sub-Zero…”
“I like ‘Sub-Zero’,” the pale man interjected.
“Meh… I’ll put you down as ‘Sub’ for now,” Hubbard shrugged, tapping away at his tablet, “Let’s just see if it sticks before trying to move onto something more cringe worthy.”
“Okay!” Ellery clapped her hands, “If you’re all done choosing baby names, then I see no reason why you can’t get to work. Get the carrier ready to travel and move the necessary ships and supplies across. Aeton will fill you in with the rest of the details.”
Aeton nodded reluctantly as the crowd dispersed. Ford followed Ellery and the pale man up the shuttle’s ramp as it started to close.
Buckling himself into a seat, he turned to his commander and asked, “Why the hell are we going to the Guranul IV fueling station, anyway?”
“Just an old acquaintance,” Ellery answered, “The kind who owes me a damn big favour.”
Ford nodded as the craft’s engines roared into life and cast a glance at the pale man.
“How’s it going, Sub?” he grinned.
He got a withering look in response.
-
Marcus Cheng groaned as the barroom door opened and a familiar sight walked in. Three people in Rebel uniforms. The kind of attire you only saw people wearing openly if there was some serious trouble going down. Or if there was about to be. Either way, they drew more than a few stares as they crossed over to the bar and ordered drinks.
The fueling station orbiting Guranul IV was ostensibly a just a simple waystation for deep-space traders and the occasional scientific vessel, the owners paid their taxes on time and in that was all the authorities knew. The place was just another column in a ledger on some Federation accountant’s desk. In reality however, the fueling station was a hub for illegal activity in the system. Smugglers and dealers of all kinds would stop by to offload their wares out of sight of the law. Just like anybody looking to lie low would come aboard to hide out for a while, as Cheng knew all too well. So a uniform, rebel or not, was seldom a welcome sight.
Cheng’s most trusted pilots were dotted around the room, the only people in his rag-tag outfit he knew for sure wouldn’t get themselves so drunk and disorderly that they’d get the lot of them booted off the station for bad behavior. One of them, Ajax, slinked over and sat in the seat opposite, gazing over his shoulder.
“Looks like trouble,” she grunted, “Don’t they have better things to be doing than hitting the bottle in this dump?”
“Apparently not. Wouldn’t surprise me if those idiots had brought a whole Federation battlegroup along for the party, too.”
“Right,” Ajax chuckled politely as she glanced over her shoulder, to where a couple of the other pilots were staring intently.
Cheng followed her gaze, “You have something you want to say?”
“It’s not just me,” she fixed him with a determined stare, “We haven’t had a decent payday in months now. The guys are getting restless. They… we... think that you should decide to make a move to a new system. Somewhere with easier pickings.”
“Losing your nerve?” he asked, toying with his glass.
“Losing my account balance would be more accurate,” Ajax snapped, “Dammit Marcus, you know just as well as anyone that reputation is everything in our line of work. If people think we’re losing our nerve then we can kiss goodbye to getting new jobs.”
“True. But you’re forgetting that this company of ours already has a reputation. One that would make it extremely dangerous to operate in any space where the law can reach us.”
“That’s a risk we have to take. We can’t stay here forever.”
“Well even if I thought you were right, it’d take some serious money to move everybody out to a new location. And as you say, right now we have a bit of a cash flow problem.”
“Two and a half million credits is what it would take, I reckon,” Ajax said, “I’ve done some calculations. We’d need to hire a freighter big enough to fit everything, but it’s doable.”
“Well we’re not going to get that much money in a hurry,” Cheng restlessly shifted in his seat.
“I don’t get you. First you say… damn,” she was looking over his shoulder again, “They’re coming over. And there’s a familiar face with them.”
Cheng turned his seat as the three rebels approached.
“Well, well. Marcus Cheng,” Ellery smiled a bit too widely and held out her hand in greeting, “You’re looking good. Haven’t aged a day since we last met.”
“Captain Quarl,” he ignored the hand, “I wish I could say the same about you.”
“I see you haven’t lost your good manners. I was hoping to talk with you about some work.”
“Work?” he asked as Ajax looked up from the other end of the table.
“Sure. I need to hire your crew for a special mission. Something big.”
“I would have thought that a bigshot like you would have fighters of your own?”
“Of course. But not enough. We need some experienced shooters to make up the numbers. You and your guys would be a big help.”
“Uh-huh. And who are you fighting? The Federation right? None of my guys want to get involved in something like that. We don’t need the heat.”
“Last I heard, you were already public enemy number one for local law enforcement, which is why you’re holed up in this place 24/7. I don’t really see how things can get much worse for you by helping us. Besides, you and I spent enough time fighting side by side – you know you can never really quit. In the eyes of the Federation, you’re once a rebel, always a rebel.”
“I’ll have you know that nowadays I’m a respected private contractor. The law wouldn’t dare touch me.”
“Contractor? Marcus, you’re a third-rate pirate in a fifth-rate solar system.”
“Ah, I get it. You think that by appealing to my ego, you can get me back fighting the good fight with good old Captain Quarl. Well I hate to disappoint, but I’m not interested. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to finish my drink in peace.”
“Is there payment?” Ajax blurted out, drawing an incredulous look from Cheng.
“Sure,” Ford said as he stepped up to the table, “Plus your
operating costs would be on us. Fuel, ammo, the rest of it: all for free.”
“Two point five million credits,” she said flatly.
“Uh…” Ford looked to Ellery for direction. Seeing Cheng’s position weakening, she nodded without hesitation.
“I can clear that kind of payment from my higher-ups.”
“Great!” Ajax beamed, “You hear that Marcus? We’re good to go.”
“No!” he slammed his fist onto the table, “You’ll have to look elsewhere
“Well if money and the prospect of a decent fight won’t sway you, maybe self-preservation will.”
“The hell are you talking about?” Cheng laughed as Ellery pulled out her datapad.
Pulling up the same data she had shown Ford earlier, she walked Cheng and Ajax through it, giving them the same talk about the Federation ambushing the rebel flights with complete success. After she finished, Cheng sat back in his chair and snorted.
“So?” he shrugged, “Sounds to me like you’ve got yourself a problem. But it’s none of our concern.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Ellery told him, “If the Federation are able to break our communications, then that means that they can do the same to yours. And your employers’ and anyone you try to work with in the future. Simply put, you’re living on borrowed time just as much as us.”
“Shit,” the color drained from Cheng’s face as he sat back in his chair, “Shit, shit, shit! We’re fucked!”
“Not entirely,” Sub stepped forward from the back of the group, “As far as we’re aware, there’s only one Federation facility where this kind of tech is in use. We’re going to destroy it as soon as we can. But to do so, we need your help.”
Cheng glanced from the disconcertingly pale face back to Ellery, “And what do we get out of it? Asides from not being hunted down and killed, that is?”
“Two point five million credits, as promised. But we’re calling the shots. No cowboy heroics, can your guys get that into their heads?”
