Outriders

by Ian Blackport

  Connor appeared doubtful. “How?”

  “Certain starships are given priority entry onto a planet if they’re government or diplomatic vessels. If Customs and Immigration think we’re part of an MP’s staff, we won’t face the same scrutiny and restrictions.”

  “You honestly believe you can get Parliamentary landing permits?”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  Harun considered her claims and leaned backward in a chair, tenting his fingers above his slouched figure. “If true, this would solve a considerable hurdle between us and our objective.”

  “Ah, hell no,” Taylor rebuked. “This isn’t happening.”

  “The plan has merit.”

  “No, it doesn’t. Even if I wanted to, even if I felt committed to your cause, this can’t be done. The only path into the Heliades is straight through the Balor system. There aren’t any others. Why do you think the Authority navy maintains two entire fleets there? Every single starship entering and leaving the Heliades travels through Balor, where the vessel and each of its occupants can be screened and identified. GoNav is affiliated with the Confederacy and ensures that lone spacelane is the only publicly known one for travelers. Starships that dock at spaceports or fuel stations in Confederacy space receive mandatory astronavigational revisions. The data comes from GoNav, but the distributing network is all government. If they don’t want a particular route known, it’ll remain classified.”

  “We understand how the Governing Body for Interstellar Navigation works, thank you. Our vessels also link to their secure network.”

  “Then you know how foolhardy a strategy this is. A false transponder won’t matter either. If a Stingray-class freighter makes an appearance in the Balor system within a month of our previous visit, it’ll be intercepted and boarded with a full surveillance and military team. I almost feel bad for any legitimate traders flying around in a Stingray, since we’ve made their life a hair more complicated.”

  “Much as I enjoy your condescending lectures,” Harun said, “I’m stopping you there. I have no intention of traveling through Balor.”

  Alexis’ eyebrows perked noticeably and she straightened in her chair. “You know a safe route from another system.”

  “You hacked GoNav?” questioned Rinko.

  “We liberated vital astronavigational data they have no right keeping confidential,” answered Harun.

  Rinko smiled, a gesture of admiration for the achievements committed by a fellow slicer. “How many safe vectors do you have?”

  “Only one. The jumping off point is Amaterasu, seven light-years coreward from the Tuireann system. We shouldn’t encounter Confederacy patrols, since no one is supposed to be capable of traveling this spacelane.”

  Taylor grumbled and rolled his eyes. “We all know how much your last promise along those lines was worth. So don’t take offense if I remain skeptical.”

  “Our mission in Balor relied on trusting an unknown contact who proved less than dependable,” explained Harun. “Once we reach the Heliades, success will hinge on our skills alone. We needn’t put faith in anyone else.”

  “Gosh, you make the entire mission sound so easy,” Kyla sneered. “Makes me wonder why you haven’t gone and done everything by yourself already.”

  “Using assets to their fullest potential is what I do, Moyaert. I’ve seen your crew in scenarios that would cause most to panic or make mistakes, and you’ve handled yourselves well. You’re a poor substitute for trained field operatives, but you’re capable enough.”

  “Stop, please. I get flustered from too much praise.”

  Harun ignored her comment and stared toward the ceiling, his mind evidently lost in contemplation. “Our plan is feasible, but one element still eludes us and requires a solution. Getting into the University of Karnak library.”

  “Accessing the library won’t be an issue,” Alexis claimed.

  “Why’s that?”

  “Karnak is my alma mater. All the alumni retain access to the facilities, including archives and laboratories. You could wander the grounds and attend public events or lectures, but you aren’t getting into certain buildings without me.”

  “How many visitors is each alumnus permitted?”

  Alexis lifted her hand and wiggled two fingers. “And Rinko needs to be one of them. I’m not just saying that so I can give my girlfriend a tour and show off either. We can’t be certain there aren’t encryptions or dummy nonsense on the device. I’ll need her brilliant mind.”

  “I’ll be the other,” Harun announced.

  Taylor scowled and folded his arms, casting an icy glare toward the operative. “No chance. Rinko, can you forge university identification cards for us?”

  “Aye, captain,” she replied. “If I had an extra month.”

  Tessa snorted and tugged her boots off to clunk on the table surface. “I thought you were a master slicer.”

  “She’s the best,” Alexis snarled, daring the other woman to offer another criticism.

  Rinko placed a calming hand on Alexis’ shoulder. “The University of Karnak is a Confederacy-sponsored institution, which means Confederacy-level security protocols. I can’t finesse my way through this one.”

  “You’ve bulled your way past Authority systems before,” said Connor.

  “Those were always fast, temporary intrusions. The network detects an intruder within minutes and deploys countermeasures to find me, but the limitation isn’t a problem since I’m in and out in less time. But translating and decrypting information from an outdated TL-wide disc could take an hour or longer. I’d need foolproof university identity cards, which I can’t fabricate on the fly. So unless the war has ended and we aren’t working on a restricted timeframe any longer…?”

  Harun nodded in a knowing manner. “Three of us then. I don’t care about your objections, Captain, but I’m the third. This involves classified information regarding a war orchestrated against my home planet. I don’t trust the intelligence with anyone else.”

  “And I don’t trust my crew with you,” Taylor declared.

  “It’s okay,” responded Alexis. “Thoth is my home. We’ll be fine.”

  “I’m not sure that’s true.”

  “Trust me, Captain. We’re not gallivanting around on a distant planet with minimal laws and no one willing to give us aid. I lived on Thoth for most of my life. I still know professors, I have old college friends who work in Hermopolis, and I can map this city inside and out.” Alexis offered a sympathetic smile, causing her cheeks to furrow with dimples. “I know you prefer running point on operations and shooting anything that gives you backtalk, but I can handle this one.”

  “She won’t be alone either,” promised Rinko. “If the worst happens, we can always throw Harun under the bus and claim he coerced us against our will to commit crimes.”

  “I like that plan,” Taylor affirmed. “Make Harun’s betrayal your fallback strategy. He’ll understand the sacrifice was necessary, I’m sure.”

  Harun closed his eyes and shook his head, the exasperated reaction of a burdened man striving to maintain his sanity when faced with unending challenges.

  “What’ll the rest of us be doing while Alexis heads to the library?” asked Reyes.

  “Staying put,” Kyla answered. “No one else sets foot outside this ship. We aren’t on a sight-seeing cruise.”

  “Maybe we can touch down in a hangar with a repair station,” Evan said. “Our hull needs a patch job done, and even a half-assed one will make me feel better. Plus I can list a few components we’ve run for too long without replacing. I don’t imagine you want a thrust chamber or engine coupling to malfunction while we’re somewhere in the lonely reaches between systems.”

  Taylor leaned backward against a counter and shrugged. “I’ll see what can be arranged, but I’m not in the habit of spouting off promises. You might need to make do with what we’ve got aboard.”

  “Story of my life.”

  “You haven’t killed us so far. Try to keep
that streak alive. Hey Harun, you unscrupulous prick. Since you never paid off the dumb twerp for his treasonous data, by my reckoning you still have access to plenty of cash. If we do find a repair bay, you’re buying. The generosity can be a small token of Elatha’s gratitude for all we’ve done.”

  “Bloody pirates and swindlers,” muttered Tessa.

  Harun lifted a conciliatory palm toward his comrade-in-arms. “I’m certain we can reach an arrangement to your satisfaction.”

  “You’d better hope we can,” Taylor replied. “Don’t forget I have a top-tier slicer on my crew, and she’s been itching to transfer funds to our account lately. If you don’t give us our due, you might find an empty balance the next time you have a gander at your resources.”

  “I’m not sure whether I should take that threat seriously.”

  “You should. Few things would make Rinko happier.” Taylor scratched his jaw and straightened. “Now then, we’ve got ourselves a host of strategizing to be done. Alexis, what’s our estimated time to arrival in the Amaterasu system?”

  “I’ll need to double check our coordinates and plan the safest route, but in terms of guesswork I’d say five or six days. Plus at least two days from Amaterasu to the Heliades, if my math is correct.”

  “A little longer than a week, give or take. We’re all gonna be productive crewmembers in that time. For the first four days, I want each of you to imagine worst-case scenarios that might transpire in the Heliades. Imprisonment, cataclysmic engine failure, roving assassins and bounty hunters, errant black holes and rogue planets, whatever you can fabricate. Then we’ll spend the next four days creating solutions. I refuse to be caught unprepared at the heart of the Confederacy. This is the only system in the Astraea Cluster where improvisation gets folks killed. We don’t ad-lib this mission, savvy?”

  Taylor shoved off the counter and pointed toward a corridor leading to the bridge. “Alexis, chart us a path that isn’t likely to run afoul of Authority patrols. Everyone else, you know what needs doing before a days-long jump. We leave in an hour.”

  Chapter 14

  Clara sat on the floor in her cramped cabin, slumped against the lone bunk with an overhead light set to the dimmest setting. No personal items of practical or sentimental value rested on the bed or cabinet, since nothing beyond her flight suit survived ambush in the Tethra system. This place was not her home, and did not even feel like a temporary barrack housing her between missions. The freighter was foreign territory lacking any familiarities or comforts of home and family.

  Spare pants and several shirts were flung over a chair, donated by Kyla after Alexis convinced her to help their newest passenger. Though Alexis and Rinko welcomed Clara aboard and showed genuine concern for her well-being, nothing either woman owned fit Clara’s more muscled physique. The gesture was comforting, yet did little to unburden her aching mind.

  Sitting with her legs stretched out, Clara retrieved her flight helmet from the floor and dumped it onto her lap. Major al-Ajlani connected to memory data stored in the helmet several days earlier in order to analyze Corsair Squadron’s confrontation, though claimed a number of files remained classified. Which was strange, since she authorized unfettered access to him. Now Clara intended to discover why the helmet’s security revoked his clearance in several instances.

  She found the restricted data without difficulty, but was stymied on her first attempt to open one file. A message appeared requesting her authentication code, which she supplied. In response a single word appeared on the screen.

  PASSWORD?

  Clara frowned at the small monitor. No password was required to access her systems, since the authentication code served as identification and secure verification. She tried to enter her code again.

  PASSWORD REQUIRED. KEY GIVEN TO YOU BY LT. HILLIS.

  She furrowed her brow at the screen. “Is this your handiwork, Chirpy?”

  Lieutenant Hillis was a training officer from her academy days, a sour curmudgeon whose questionable knowledge she challenged on more than one occasion. The only lasting influence that decrepit malcontent had on her was when he sarcastically bestowed Clara with her nickname, a rite of passage for every starfighter pilot hoping to serve…

  Abruptly she understood, prompting her to key in MOXIE.

  LEVEL ONE SECURITY ACCESS GRANTED. LEVEL TWO ENCRYPTION REQUIRED.

  “I’m going to wipe your files, Chirpy.”

  KEY GIVEN TO INTERSTELLAR PATROLS IN DISPARAGEMENT BY PILOT OFFICER COHEN.

  Now that Clara understood the password rationale, answers came easier to her. After a fruitless three-day mission to the Oidheadh system, one assigned to Corsair Squadron accidentally due to a clerical error, Trish made no effort to hide her frustration. Especially since her shore leave was canceled for the flight only a few hours beforehand. Patrol missions were allocated by the Starfighter Trade Route Defense division, which Trish renamed the Squandered Time, Rubbish and Distractions agency in response. Clara typed in the password.

  LEVEL TWO SECURITY ACCESS GRANTED. LEVEL THREE ENCRYPTION REQUIRED.

  Though Chirpy’s consciousness remained with her abandoned starfighter, Clara felt a measure of conflicted joy mingled with sadness to be answering its programed riddles. “Are you planning to keep me here all night?”

  UNOFFICIAL MOTTO GIVEN TO STARFIGHTER COMMAND.

  Clara smirked at the query, which emerged one evening among Corsair Squadron following the news that an imbecile pilot from Havoc Squadron received his lieutenancy. The official Starfighter Command motto was, Qui audeat, res: ‘Those who dare, achieve.’ Being the sarcastic little shit that he was, Hayato coined the term, Qui osculum culus, promoveat, which meant ‘Those who kiss ass, promote.’

  Starfighter Command rarely seemed to be the meritocracy its leadership liked to claim. Clara keyed in the mocking phrase and was finally rewarded for her efforts.

  FULL ACCESS GRANTED. WELCOME LT. AYLETT.

  Files appeared onscreen in various folders, each one listed with a location and date. A short message flashed in one corner:

  FOR LONELY NIGHTS.

  A painful realization stabbed at her heart when she understood the data. Chirpy had downloaded all the recordings made by her squadmate Ammar before his death above Erimon, the ones he never had a chance to share with his friends. When she was forced to desert her Marauder on the desolate, forgotten moon of Orna, Chirpy secretly uploaded a farewell gift to her flight suit.

  Clara felt a welling of emotion urging her to both cry and smile. Buried deep in the memory banks of her helmet, Chirpy made certain only Clara would know the right phrases to access the recordings. Anyone could read her service record and learn Clara’s hometown, birth date or other potential password, but only a Corsair would know these ones.

  She licked her lips in apprehension, felt nerves fluttering in her stomach and played the earliest video.

  A hallway in their operations base on the moon Uaithne emerged on screen, with closed doorways passing to either side. Ammar was walking through the barracks and halted outside Lieutenant Cassimento’s chamber. One hand appeared on the monitor to knock, waited for Stephanie’s permission to enter and then opened her door.

  Ammar stepped inside, still holding the camera in front of his face. “Am I bothering you, ma’am?”

  “You’re always bothering me.”

  “Ah, but today I have a reason.”

  Stephanie groaned, sagged into a chair and folded her arms, all while glaring at the target of her annoyance. “Why are you pointing that camera in my face, Ammar? I only have an hour until my next briefing and I haven’t had a chance to read in days. Interrupting my personal time is not a wise choice, even for someone with questionable judgment such as yourself.”

  “March nineteenth,” he answered.

  “You say that as if the date is supposed to mean something to me.”

  “I asked Kat to slice into personnel files—”

  “Not something you should ever admit to an o
fficer.”

  “—and found out that was the day fifteen years ago when Lieutenant Aylett enlisted in Starfighter Command.”

  A subtle smirk developed on Stephanie’s lips and she fully turned around. “Clara’s been here fifteen years…damn.”

  “I wanted to make a recording of the whole squadron wishing her a happy anniversary or sharing stories. Then give the video to her as a gift next March.”

  “That’s oddly sentimental for you.”

  “Try not to be so surprised.”

  “I suppose you want my well wishes then,” Stephanie remarked. “You’re putting me on the spot here, at a time when I wasn’t expecting I’d need to think.”

  “Don’t worry, ma’am. I’ll edit out all the indecision and stuttering to make you look good.”

  Stephanie focused on an unseen spot across the room for several moments, gathering her thoughts before speaking. “Moxie has a natural talent for helping others and making recruits stronger. It’s no accident that the captain pairs her with our freshest tenderfoots. No one turns a useless novice into a qualified squadmate the way Clara does. Hell, sometimes I even think she’d make a great flight instructor at the academy, if I didn’t hate the thought of losing her from active service. She belongs in a cockpit, where she can make the greatest difference.”

  The recorded image changed, shifting from one squadmate to another, each person approached by Ammar somewhere on the base without Clara ever knowing.

  “Moxie doesn’t waste time with obsessive adherence to protocol,” said Katarina. “Too many officers care more about appearance than knowledge or capabilities. So long as we do our job properly, the lieutenant doesn’t lecture us on polishing boots. And that’s how it should be for starfighter pilots. If I’ve just come back from a four-day mission to another system, you’d better damn well believe I don’t want to fold my clothes a certain way. I want to throw them in a pile and collapse on my bed for twelve hours.”