by J. L. Curtis
Fargo shook his head. “Why? What the hell did they expect to gain? Didn’t they effectively control the planet anyway?”
The colonel cocked his head. “Power? Control? I don’t know. I don’t think they realized how little control they would have actually had, had they been successful. The Traders are constantly probing the Rimworlds for any weakness they can find in the administration of the worlds, since most of them are no older than a century, so the populations are relatively small, not too advanced, and most of them have no real forces than can protect them.”
“That hasn’t changed. We had one incursion on Hunter that…got taken out.”
Zhu nodded. “Got a brief on that. It was local forces and a company of GalPat,” he stared at Fargo, “Were you by chance the local forces?”
“We just scouted the location. The GalPat company did all the work, and lost their company commander, chasing a Goon into a cave. Stupid…”
“Scouted, uh huh.” Fargo shrugged and the colonel lit a group of names on the third level of the family tree. “Now this is where it gets interesting. Similar families involved, but a totally separate plot. PLANSEC found an encrypted data chip in the remains of the comms device you blew out of that apartment in Kwamaine. They couldn’t decrypt it, and passed it over to us for help. Our Intel section broke it last night, and it was a treasure trove of information. Smallwell and Archer were apparently the ringleaders, with these twenty one others as active participants. It looks like five or six were the second level of the organization, and the other thirteen or fourteen were the grunts. Apparently there was one female in that top group, and she was killed at Feeder Two. She was apparently the other shooter.”
Fargo looked up at the ceiling, then back at the holo, “Who were they working with?”
Zhu grimaced. “You’ll love this. Only themselves. They wanted to take down the feeders, dump the planet back to the primitive stage, kill off their elders, and establish their own oligarchy.”
“How, if they took the feeders down…”
“All of the Firsties home sites have nuke power. Ninety years ago they didn’t have TBT up and functional off Earth. Their plan was to take the world back to a feudal society with each family that bought in as owners of those that they selected to be allowed to survive.”
“Deity! How stupid…”
“Yes, it is… was… Meecham says they are in the process of rounding up the remaining participants, and some of them are… singing like the nearparrot in the cage.” Zhu closed the holo and looked at Fargo, “None of this can go any further than this room for now. This is why Smallwell hasn’t been tried yet. Chief Justicer Freeman was brought in on the evidence this morning, and the question place before him is which of the charges should be brought. Murder or treason. Either carries the death penalty. It will be up to the Chief Justicer and the director as to which way it goes. Their goal is to, shall we say, get the populace’s attention with these trials. I foresee a number of public executions, either here in the Palace, or in each of their hometowns.”
“Colonel, on behalf of our folks, I wish you’d push them to bring Smallwell to trial for murder. I don’t want to have to deal with fifty pissed off Ghorka who feel their tribe has been dishonored.”
Zhu shivered, “I see your point. I know I don’t want them to go on a rampage, and I know they are capable of that. There are rumors about some… cleaning up… that was done on Mars Base thirty years ago. And that was supposedly only four or five Ghorka.” Zhu stood, “Thank you for coming with me, and please, hold this close.”
Fargo got up, “I will, sir. But I have to tell them sooner or later.”
“After you depart Endine, I don’t see why not. But I’d ask they not spread it far and wide.”
Fargo nodded. “With your permission?” Zhu inclined his head, and Fargo left the office.
***
The day before the recovery started, it was finally announced that Smallwell had been indicted for the murder of the two Ghorka. Fargo quickly got on the comms and put the word out to all sites, and ensured they were going to be ready for the recovery procedures.
Fargo grumped, “Damn zero dark thirty shit, why is it always zero fucking dark thirty,” as he made one more pass through the billet and keyed his trunk to follow him out to the shuttle.
Boykin had already preflighted the shuttle, and Grayson was slumped in one of the chairs, sound asleep when he stomped on board. Boykin leaned down out of the cockpit, caroling, “Good morning, Captain! Are you ready to depart this dirtball?”
Fargo shook his head. “How the hell are you so damn cheerful, WO?” Nicole came aboard, trailed by her trunk, and he said, “Morning, Nicole.”
She smiled. “Morning. I’m ready to go home! Are we there yet?”
Fargo rolled his eyes, “Oh no, don’t start that shit.” He reached out, “I love you, but please…”
“I can’t wait to get you in the rack tonight. Not being able to be with you is driving me up the wall.”
Fargo blushed, “I… uh…”
They were interrupted by Colonel Zhu, in full uniform. “Captain, could all of you please step out here?”
“All of us?”
“Yes, including the senior sergeant and the warrant, please.”
Nicole looked at the colonel curiously as Fargo yelled up to the cockpit, “WO, muster outside please.” He kicked Grayson’s foot, “Up and at ‘em Senior.”
Boykin dropped out of the cockpit as Grayson got up, grumbling. They followed the colonel down the ramp and were surprised to see the Palace GalPat Det standing at attention in full dress uniforms and Doctor Vaughn, the director also standing there at a lectern. The colonel started marching toward her, and they automatically fell into step behind him as he marched to stand in front of the lectern, “Director, the awardees are present.”
Doctor Vaughn nodded. “Thank you, Colonel. Ladies and gentlemen, I apologize for the early div, but this needs to be done before you leave. Warrant Boykin and Senior Sergeant Grayson, front and center please.”
The warrant and senior marched to stand directly in front of her, “I am pleased to present you both the Endine lifesaving medal for your responses during the unfortunate incidents at your sites involving the treasonous behavior of some of our citizens. Through your efforts, over twenty lives were saved that would have otherwise been lost.” She stepped around the lectern, taking saucer sized medals and dropping them over their heads. She shook both their hands, and stepped back, saying softly, “Return to your places please.”
“Chief Sergeant Levesque, front and center please.” Nicole marched to stand in front of her, and she smiled. “I have the pleasure of presenting you with the GalPat Intelligence medal for your service in breaking up the two plots to take over the planet. Colonel?”
Colonel Zhu smiled as he stepped forward and pinned the Intelligence Medal on Nicole’s grays. “Congratulations, this will be entered in your official record Chief. And my personal thanks for your work.”
Nicole whispered, “Thank you, sir. But I…”
“You did the work, you get the credit. Dismissed.”
Vaughn smiled at her, “Captain Fargo, front and center please.” Fargo marched up and saluted her as she read, “For your heroic actions on two occasions that broke up not one but two plots against our planet, I am proud to present you with the Founder’s Medal. Normally this would be accompanied by a considerable tract of land, but since you are not a citizen, that has been changed to a monetary award of five hundred thousand credits.” She hung the medal around his neck and handed him a credit chip, then two more. Stepping back to the lectern, she continued, “Additionally, we are awarding two one hundred thousand credit death benefits to your two Ghorka who died at the hands of our people. And finally, we will be naming the holiday of the anniversary of the attack on your sites for your two men, so that their names will never be forgotten, nor will your service to Endine. I would have preferred that this be done in front of all your t
roops, but needs must. Please pass on my and the planet’s thanks for what you’ve done, and Deity bless.”
Fargo stood stunned for a moment, then said, “Thank you Madame Director. I will pass this along. And thank you for the benefits, I’d truly rather have the men back, as would their families, but these credits will be taken back to them.”
Doctor Vaughn nodded, turned away from the lectern and walked slowly toward the executive wing of the Palace as the Colonel called the assembled GalPat troops to attention then dismissed them. He walked over to Fargo and the others, “I’ll send you the vid we took. Thank you for what you did.”
Boykin growled, “We need to be in the air in ten, I’ve got work to do.”
Zhu smiled. “And the warrant takes charge. Deity bless, and thank you.” He shook hands, starting with Boykin, who promptly headed for the ramp, grumbling to herself. Finally only Fargo was left, and he shook his hand, saying, “I would be proud to serve with you, Captain. And I apologize for the way I treated you. You taught me something that I will carry for the rest of my life about leadership. Thank you.” He turned and marched away as Fargo looked after him.
Recovery
Ten divs after liftoff from Endine, Boykin maneuvered the last two modules ahead of the Hyderabad, and stood off as Captain Jace recovered them and tractored them into position. Fargo sat in the mess, watching the external camera as he neatly tractored them into the stack on the bottom of the ship, and jerked as the camera flipped to the shuttle bay, doors open and Wallace standing there.
He heard Wallace said, “Nose first?”
Boykin answered, “Rog, nose, and then spin.”
They saw Wallace look up and confirm the lights were flashing red and yellow, “Confirm zero G, no atmo.”
“Roger zero/no. Have the ball, closure forty fps.” They watched as the shuttle closed the side of the Hyderabad.
Wallace held up one stick, now lit green. “Bring it.”
Wallace said, “Drop ten.”
“Thirty fps.”
“Three hundred, centered.”
Wallace said, “Drop ten.”
“Twenty fps.”
“Keep it coming. Two hundred, centered.”
“Roger.”
“One hundred, centered, drop ten.”
“Ten fps.”
Wallace started waving the wands, moving slowly backward as the shuttle nosed into the hangar. Moments later, he crossed them over his head, “Spin it.”
“Going right.”
“Stop. Down one fps. Three, two, one. And you’re down. Standby for locks.”
“Standing by.”
Wallace shuffled back to the interior bulkhead, pulled a switch down, look back at the shuttle and said, “You are locked.”
“Roger locked, starting shutdown.” The bay doors started closing, and Fargo stood, stretched and headed for the autochef.
He’d just programmed a coffee when Nicole walked in smiling. “Do one for me, please?”
He was interrupted by the IC coming on with a pop, and Evie saying, “All hands muster in the crew lounge in fifteen segs, I say again, all hands muster in the crew lounge in fifteen for ship briefing.”
Captain Jace came in, glanced at Fargo and asked, “You want to show the vid of the ceremony after I do the safety brief?”
“I’d like to. I’ve talked to everyone, but I haven’t told anyone about either that or some other information.” Fargo reached into his shipsuit, “While I’m thinking about it,” he handed a data chip to Jace, “I want to get McDougal a patent for this repulsor he developed if we can. He saved our asses down there.”
Jace took it with a smile, “So that’s how all those idiots ended up dead.”
Fargo grimaced. “Yes, and McDougal is still apparently having some problems with it, saying he killed innocent people.”
“Not from what I saw. Let me send this out and see what can be done. It looks like it’s got a lot of potential applications.”
***
Fargo stopped the vid and handed the three credit chips to Jiri, “I’m also donating my credits to the Enclave. Now I want to brief you on a couple of other things you may or may not be aware of.” He brought up the first holo that Nicole had helped him build, Thank Deity for neural laces giving me almost a photographic memory. He called up the memory of his conversation with Colonel Zhu, “This is a list of the Firsties’ family trees.” He finished explaining the interactions between the generations with the different plots, then put a fourth up, “Now this is where it gets interesting. Similar families involved, but a totally separate plot that we became peripherally involved in by taking the security assignment. PLANSEC found an encrypted data chip in the remains of the comms device that came out of that apartment in Kwamaine. They couldn’t decrypt it, and passed it over to GalPat, their Intel section broke it with the chief sergeant’s help, and it was a treasure trove of information. Smallwell and Archer were apparently the ringleaders, with these twenty one others as active participants. It looks like five or six were the second level of the organization of that group of twenty one, and ironically when the chief sergeant was undercover, she actually served them at the restaurant. The one female in that second level group was the shooter who was on the north side at Feeder Three. She was found with the needler under her.”
Fargo paused and looked around, “Now this is the interesting part, they were only out for themselves! They wanted to take down the feeders, dump the planet back to the primitive stage, kill off their elders, and establish their own oligarchy.”
There was a rumble of sounds, “‘That’s stupid’, ‘idiots’,” and other derisive comments, and Fargo waved, “Understood, but all of the Firstie home sites have nuke power. Ninety years ago they didn’t have TBT up and functional off-Earth. Their plan was to take the world back to a feudal society with each family that bought in as owners of those that they selected to be allowed to survive. PLANSEC were in the process of rounding up the remaining participants, and some of them are supposedly singing like the nearparrot in the cage.”
Fargo shut off the holo, “The reason you are just now finding this out is that Colonel Zhu wanted this close hold, because Chief Justicer Freeman was trying to figure out which of the charges should be brought. Murder or treason. Either carries the death penalty. It was to the Chief Justicer and the director as to which way it goes. Their goal is to, shall we say, get the populace’s attention with these trials. Apparently there will be a number of public executions, either at the Palace, or in each of the participant’s hometowns as a lesson to the others.”
There was a roar of agreement from the Ghorka, and Fargo smiled as he stepped out of the lounge, leaving them to celebrate amongst themselves.
***
At 0300 ship time, Wallace, now briefed into the fact that Hyderabad was a remote intel gatherer, stood impatiently in front of a bay hatch that had appeared in front of him. It slid open and he whistled as he beheld the little stealth shuttle parked there. Checking his soft suit, he stepped across the threshold, “I’m in the bay. Suit checks good.”
Jace answered, “Closing hatch. Go ahead and activate the outer door, the probe is five hundred yards out and closing at ten feet per second.”
Wallace turned, making sure the inner door was closed, hit the control for zero G, pressure dump, and outer door. He felt the suit stiffen as the atmosphere bled off, and his weight go away. Looking up, he saw the flashing red and yellow beacons, and clomped around the nose of the shuttle as the outer door slid noiselessly open. “Outer is open. No visual on the probe.”
“Try now,” came over his headset, as an IR pinprick of light hit his visor.
“Got the IR. How do you want to do this?”
“It will drive itself into the bay and park over the sled. All I need is for you to ensure it’s aligned with the cradle and push it down.”
“Got it.” It was eerie to watch the probe as it maneuvered itself blindly into the bay, turned and parked itself over the
cradle. “Centered in the cradle, right,” Wallace asked.
“Centered is correct.”
Wallace pushed it about a foot forward, then gently pushed down on the nose, which settled into the cradle. Walking to the aft end, he pushed it down, and it clunked into the cradle. “It’s in.”
“Okay, you can secure back to quarters now,” Captain Jace said, as the sled quietly disappeared through a hatch in the aft bulkhead.
Wallace shook his head in amazement, clomped back around to the hatch and reversed the sequence, closing the outer door, repressurizing, and finally opening the inner hatch. Once he stepped through, the inner hatch closed and a panel slid to cover it. This… this is just fucking amazing. Bays that appear out of nowhere, a stealth shuttle, spook fucking probes. And nobody knows about it. He peeled out of his soft suit, stowed it in the maintenance locker, and headed back to his cabin, smiling.
The next morning Fargo and Nicole sat in the crew’s mess, quietly eating breakfast, smiling at each other. Fargo reached out, “Thank you for last night.”
Nicole smiled from ear to ear, “Oh no, thank you! That was… satisfying, to put it mildly.”
