“Wish Tricky could have seen this,” Private Reddy said sombrely on First Section coms, gazing at the view.
“Yeah,” said Sergeant Forrest. First Section was currently only three marines, Private Cillian ‘Tricky’ Tong’s place having not yet been filled, despite Echo Platoon’s dispersal amongst the others. He’d been Reddy’s best friend, and none of them were taking it well. Another reason why Dale preferred active duty. On active duty you had less time to think about anything else.
To their left along the ledge was a curious sight. The remains of a parren shuttle, embedded in the canyon wall. Scorch marks and burning were always limited in a vacuum, but still there was very little left, courtesy of the velocity of impact. And here along the ledge, away from the cluster of parren in EVA suits with floodlights and forensic gear, came Ensign Jokono in his plain spacer suit, bouncing with a careful eye to the precipitous drop on his left.
Close coms opened. “Hey Joker,” said Dale. “Find anything?”
“The parren insist otherwise,” said Jokono. He’d done some EVA work in his time on various stations, but most of that had been in senior roles, and the head of station security on a five-million population station didn’t go wandering outside often. “There is much work to do, but they say their flight control’s latest data showed no evasive manoeuvres, just a straight-line plunge into this wall at over eight hundred kilometres an hour. Until they can get cockpit audio they won’t know much, but at those speeds there might not be much to find.”
“Maybe it was low cloud,” muttered Private Reddy.
“Looks like someone murdered our contact, Joker,” said Dale. “Gonna be hard to get to the croma now.”
“It’s certainly a possibility,” Jokono admitted, coming to a halt beside Dale. “But if so, I’d like to know in whose interest it was to stop us from going. Most parren have little do with the croma, and plenty would like us to leave parren space. It seems odd.”
“Do croma have spies or assassins among parren?” Forrest wondered.
“An interesting idea, Sergeant. I admit I have no idea, expertise on the croma seems thin even among the parren, who are closer and more scholarly than anyone else. But again, it seems difficult to conceive that parren could serve foreign masters. Among any other species you would have the possibility of mercenaries or paid assassins, but it’s almost unheard of among parren. Parren kill as an act of selfless service. They derive all social status from that service, money is insignificant by comparison.”
“Well,” said Dale, “sounds like you got yourself a puzzle. Tell us what you need to do next and we’ll keep you safe while you do it.”
“Thank you Lieutenant, there’s actually not much more I can achieve here — I’m not a crash investigator but the parren who is has assured me he’ll keep me up to date. He’s one of Gesul’s, I’ve no reason to doubt him. What I’d like is to visit the Domesh Tower and ask if I can access that shuttle’s crew manifest — such requests work better with parren in person, I’ve found. If it was an assassination, it could have been the suicide version, perhaps a saboteur aboard who brought the shuttle down.”
“Domesh Tower, got it.” Dale changed channels. “Hello PH-3, this is Alpha Commander, do you copy?”
“Hello Alpha Commander, this is PH-3,” came Lieutenant Jersey’s reply. “We are on standby awaiting your next move.”
“Hello Jersey, Jokono wants to go to the Domesh Tower to do some research.”
“We can do that. Hello Phoenix Command, this is Air Jersey, we are on route to retrieve Alpha and Jokono, followed by a short hop to the Domesh Tower. ETA on pickup is two minutes, Alpha please standby for immediate departure.”
5
Erik and Trace had just sat down with Captain Sampey and Commander Adams for their second briefing when Erik received an emergency call on his uplink. He held up a hand to forestall whatever Sampey had been saying, and indicated his ear. “This is the Captain, go ahead.”
“Captain, it’s Shilu,” came the voice. “We have blanket jamming outside the tower. All of Defiance communications are down.”
Erik hurriedly indicated to Trace to join the command channel. “Everywhere? What about landlines?”
“We’re trying that now, there’s immediate interference but I can’t see how they can keep the landlines shut down when Hannachiam has so much control. But she might not know what’s going on immediately, and… well, who knows what she’ll think to do about it if we can’t contact her to ask for help.”
“What is going on, Lieutenant Shilu?”
“Sir… by your leave I’ve put Styx onto it, but it looks like battlespace preparation. It could be aimed at us, but with our assets that could be catastrophic for whoever attempted it. Given that these are parren, my best guess is it’s a local powerplay, but there’s no telling who at this point.”
While Shilu was speaking, Trace was giving orders to put all Phoenix crew on red alert. Sampey and Adams watched with patient alarm.
Erik was about to reply to Shilu when the lights went black, then flickered back to life at half-power. “Shilu? Shilu, can you hear me?”
“Hello Captain,” Styx’s calm, feminine voice interjected. “I believe this tower complex is specifically under attack. I have detected and disrupted multiple network assaults and attempts to establish a barrier matrix about us, but external forces appear to have gained physical control of regional power and communications nodes. No amount of network activity can regain those nodes for us, though a ground assault may achieve the same.”
Both Sampey and Adams’ eyes went wider still when they realised who was talking. Neither had made that particular acquaintance yet.
“They’ll have air support, other fire support plus established defences around those nodes,” Trace replied to Erik’s unasked question, listening on the same channel. “We’ve barely got enough marines in the tower for local defence, taking those nodes back will take more forces than we’ve got available. We could move a platoon from elsewhere, but…”
“We can’t leave Phoenix defenceless,” Erik completed her sentence. “Nor Hannachiam, nor our habitat.” They were spread too thin between the various sites that required defending, a strategic inevitability that neither Erik nor Trace had seen any way around. They’d known it could come to this if there was trouble, and now here it was, staring them in the face. “Plus we won’t have anything close to air superiority, and moving a platoon under those circumstances is just begging to lose it.”
Defiance had various ground transportation systems, but restoring them to full function had been low on the list of priorities for the parren engineers now working on such things. Besides which, this whole assault would be well planned, and Erik doubted it was safe to move reinforcements by any form of transport right now.
Erik shook his head clear of too many racing thoughts, and stared at Trace in disbelief as it occurred to him. “They’ve seen Styx. They complain endlessly how Hanna’s our friend. There’s no way they risk it against us, we could completely trash them.”
Trace nodded fast as she realised the sense of what he was saying. “It’s Gesul. They’re after Gesul. Do we…”
An echoing thud through the walls and floor cut her off, followed by several more. “Was that…?” Erik asked, and received a fast, distracted nod from Trace as she monitored a dozen things on her AR glasses, then issued some terse instructions. Erik recalled his own glasses with annoyance, pulled them from a pocket and got a full spread of visuals as he settled them on — command channels mostly not responding, only local tower systems and coms being restored, likely by Styx finding ways to bypass the jamming and severed wires faster than anyone else could manage.
“Captain, what’s going on?” Adams ventured. Sampey looked annoyed at his Intelligence colleague for interrupting the commanders with superfluous questions.
“Looks like the other parren factions are after Gesul of the Domesh Denomination,” Erik told him distractedly. “He occupies the en
tire tower right next to us, so that puts us in the firing line too. You could get out on your shuttle now but I don’t recommend it — the airspace will be locked down, they’ll be shooting down anyone trying to leave and might not distinguish between our tower and Gesul’s…”
“Major!” one of the marines was calling. “The interlink levels with Gesul’s tower have been closed! There’s some kind of override, we can’t get through to them!”
“Don’t try to break through yet,” Trace replied. “We don’t know what’s going on, we don’t want to declare we’re taking sides without meaning to, we could make ourselves a target right along with Gesul.”
“Major,” came another. “The acoustics through the walls tells me there’s shooting in the lower tower next door. They’re definitely after Gesul.”
“We will remain on full defensive, everybody knows the plan. Don’t assume they’re not after us, don’t assume the assault will only come from the ground-up, and don’t assume the guys next door won’t attack us as soon as they’ve finished with Gesul.”
The plan for tower defence had been well in place since the early days of their occupation. The lower floors were rigged with a variety of boobytraps and ammunition stores dispersed along the line of possible fall-back to provide retreating marines with a ready supply of reloads. Right now Charlie Platoon were the marines on station in the tower, meaning Lieutenant Jalawi had command under Trace.
“We have two squads of marines deployed at our shuttle pad for local defence,” Sampey volunteered. “They are at your command if you need them.”
“Thank you,” Trace said distractedly, following five things at once. “Please contact them with instructions to integrate to local tacnet, deployment instructions will follow from there.” She finished her preliminary review and glanced at Erik. “You should get topside, I’ll get a suit…”
A new signal appeared on Erik’s glasses, a big, flashing icon, urgent in its power. Erik guessed what it was, and opened it. “Captain Debogande and the crew of Phoenix,” said the translator-voice. “This is Rehnar of the Incefahd. Gesul’s time as leader of the House Domesh denomination is coming to an end. I pledge to continue a cooperative relationship with the warship Phoenix following Gesul’s removal. This action is not aimed at any human on Defiance. Declare your neutrality and you shall all remain safe. Assist Gesul, or interfere in any fashion, and you shall also be eliminated. This will be your single warning.”
The transmission ended. Erik exhaled sharply, hardly surprised. Trace shook her head with a grimace. “This is yours,” she said. “I’m marine commander on the ground, but this is political and strategic, it’s beyond my skillset. Tell me what to do.”
Erik nodded. “Styx, can you hear me?”
“Yes Captain, I am attempting to reroute communications to the control bridge, the jamming is intense.”
“I want full coms restored to all of our units elsewhere on Defiance as a matter of priority. Major, you get your suit on and join me at the bridge until we have full coms in the tower — Jalawi can handle tower defence and I’ll need your input if we get coms back across the rest of Defiance. Captain Sampey, if you’re willing, you and Commander Adams can join us on the bridge.”
“Yes Captain,” said Sampey. “We are yours to command as well.”
Erik nodded his thanks. “And Styx?” As they got up and made for the door. “Tell me what we need to do to get back in contact with Gesul. I want to talk to him.”
Lisbeth sat in front of her wall coms unit, finger hovering over the record icon, and could think of nothing to say.
It was crazy. She’d been through so much since she’d left home. She’d seen and done incredible things. Now there was a human ship in orbit, duty-bound to return a report from Phoenix on everything that had happened to her in the past crazy year. Erik had made no guarantees about how positive that report would be, but he’d told her to prepare a message to send home to the family, just in case that became viable. But all of the things she really needed to talk about were serious business, and that was no way to begin a conversation with family she hadn’t seen in a year. She tried to think of some fun, frivolous things to open her message with, and could think of nothing. Perhaps she was finally becoming a serious grownup, she thought wryly, with nothing on her mind but work. Like Mother.
Oh yes, there it was, the main reason for her hesitation. Mother liked plans. Whenever there’d been discussions about Lisbeth’s life, Mother had always insisted to know the future. Where is this all going, Lisbeth? Have you taken all the variables into account? Where do you see yourself along this path in five years time? Ten years? For a young woman looking forward to the next party or boyfriend or holiday, it had become quite exasperating, and she’d learned better than to float any old idea of what she might like to do or Mother would demand a multi-year chart and spreadsheet to figure out the implications.
‘So where is this parren business taking you, Lisbeth?’ she could imagine Mother asking her now. ‘Have you considered whether this is something you really want to be involved in?’ Well, no. She hadn’t really considered that, it had been violently thrust upon her. But it was special, and it was spectacular, and it was important, and for once in her life, while she was here, she didn’t feel like the insignificant little sister of all these great and grand Debogande children. She felt like she was doing something that mattered… and more than that, she’d seen what the alo were up to with the deepynines, and it stripped her of any wistful dreams of a safe and happy homecoming. Yes she could go home, but she could never be safe again, not with that threat brooding out in the dark. No one was safe, not Mother, not Diedre, not the great captains and admirals of Fleet itself.
Tell Mother that she now fancied she might play some great role in stopping that threat? In saving the human race from a second great extinction? Put like that, she didn’t quite believe it herself… except that humanity would need all the help it could get from as many alien races as could be persuaded to help. The parren were powerful, or would be if they could ever put aside their petty differences to concentrate their forces. Plenty of neighbouring species would really prefer them not to, but if the deepynines and alo attacked, even parren domination would seem preferable.
Lisbeth took a deep breath, and touched ‘record’. “Hello all!” she said cheerily, imagining the whole family seated to watch the recording. “It’s me! I’m in the parren habitat of an abandoned drysine city… long story, believe me! Anyhow, I’m safe and well, I have a lot of friends here and I’m in no immediate danger…”
The door hummed open without announcement and Timoshene strode in, tall in black armour, skull-fitting hood and mask… he never just barged in unless something bad was happening. Spoke too soon, Lisbeth thought sourly.
He did a fast search of her room, without speaking. “That bad, is it?” Lisbeth enquired in Porgesh.
“Keresh,” Timoshene said shortly, and Lisbeth’s eyes widened. ‘Coup’, was perhaps the closest translation. An assassination attempt, but more than an assassination — a move by one faction against another. “Lai to,” he added, and left, closing the door behind. ‘Stay here,’ that was.
Months ago, Lisbeth might have sat still, been scared, and waited for someone else to direct her. Now she got up, in as much exasperation as fear, and went to her locker. Within was a heavy jacket, a gift from Major Thakur, lined with thin body armour sufficient to stop most small firearms. With that gift had come another — a snub-nosed Dush-73 electro-mag, small enough to tuck in a pocket, only five-millimetre but with a magfire’s high muzzle velocity it would put holes through anyone not armoured. This was Hiro’s gift — one of his spares and certainly not a marine weapon. She pocketed the Dush and three spare clips in a magnetic bundle, then donned her Augmented Reality glasses and blinked the personal protection icon.
The bugs flashed in four locations — two in the bathroom where she’d installed a sunlight-simulating lamp on the counter so they could recharge,
and another two in the room with her. One assassin bug had been enough to grant her both fear and respect in parren society. Four made her something of a weapon, despite Erik’s understandable concerns that the bugs could not be trusted because the only one who could program them was Styx. Of all the Phoenix crew, Hiro was the most well-versed in their use, and he’d in turn checked with Hannachiam (he insisted) and had received an all-clear on the bugs’ software. How on earth he’d managed that when Hanna had no idea nor interest in what day it was, Lisbeth did not know. Gesul had once asked Hanna if Defiance was safe, and she’d responded with images of wildflowers. But then Lisbeth figured that if Styx decided to kill her, she’d have to kill everyone else around her too, because she was too important to both Phoenix and Gesul for that assassination to go unanswered. It didn’t stop anyone sane from believing it was possible.
Her coms weren’t working, not on the glasses, nor on her wall unit. In fact the glasses were barely working at all — just a few local relays to otherwise autistic processors in her room and elsewhere. Anything reliant upon the broader Defiance network was dead. Going out of her room would be pointless — her security preferred her to remain where she was, and doing otherwise achieved nothing. All of her staff would be now confined to the office, just up the corridor on this habitat level save for Risa and Dolumev, who were doing a shift at the Domesh Tower. There wasn’t even a window in the parren habitat, the entire wheel was enclosed in a massive dome for radiation and other protection. She initiated a scan of network functions within range, and sat crosslegged on her bed while waiting for it to run… and was not particularly surprised when her audio abruptly crackled.
Croma Venture: (The Spiral Wars Book Five) Page 9
