Survival Strategy

by Anders Raynor

  Talia chuckled. “The smell of those steaks will haunt me for some time. Not to mention the aftertaste. I tried not to think of you when I ate them.”

  “I take it as a compliment.” Adrian punched his selection and lifted his eyes to meet her gaze. His expression was serene. “I think it’s time to talk. About us.”

  She raised her eyes to meet his gaze. “Sorry, Adrian, I think I’m not ready. You know what I’ve been through.”

  “I know, but you don’t have to go through this alone.” Adrian set his elbows on the table and leaned forward, as if he wanted to get closer to her. “Ophelia needs you. Since we rescued her from that Taar’kuun lab on Chloris, she’s been lonely. She needs a mother figure in her life. And…”

  He paused and turned his eyes toward the rising sun. “And I need you,” he finished in low voice.

  She touched his hand. “Look, Adrian, I care about you. But I’m struggling to process my own emotions. Do I love you as a friend, a brother, or…” She blushed slightly.

  He looked her in the eyes again and squeezed her hand. “I want you in my life, Talia. Not only as a friend. It took me a long time to admit it, but now I’m sure how I feel about you.”

  She withdrew her hand, gently, but firmly. “Maybe you deserve better, Adrian.”

  “What? Where’s that coming from?”

  “Have you already forgotten? I killed the man I loved.”

  Adrian shook his head. “Don’t talk such nonsense. He wasn’t even a man, but a Biozi spy. You took the life of a traitor to save hundreds of people.”

  “I want to believe I injected him with a lethal truth serum because it was the only way to find out what he knew about the human prisoners. I want to believe I did it out of a sense of duty. Deep down, I realize it’s a lie. I broke my Hippocratic Oath and killed Jon because I was angry. What I did wasn’t justice. It was revenge. Kwan Kor was right—there’s darkness in me.”

  Adrian gave out an irritated sigh. “KK again. As if he hasn’t poisoned our lives enough. The man is a psycho. You’re his therapist, you know that better than anyone. Don’t let him get into your head. Or find someone else to shrink him. Either way, I won’t let KK destroy you.”

  “There is darkness in light as there is light in darkness. If Kor managed to bring out the darkness in me, I must bring out the light in him.”

  At that moment, two flying bots dashed to their table, carrying trays with food. They hovered in the air thanks to four mini-rotors. For Talia, their arrival was a welcome distraction.

  “Well, these bots aren’t as sophisticated as Taar’kuun biobots, but they do the job nicely,” she said to change subject.

  Adrian shook his head, but showed emotional savvy by not returning to the conversation about Colonel Kor.

  06

  The embrace of Dionysus

  The Alliance fleet appeared to Jason as a constellation of bright dots against the backdrop of a deep-blue nebula. The fleet revolved on a geosynchronous orbit above Base Alpha, and thousands of people still called it home. The Alliance was in no rush to relocate its citizens to the inhospitable planet, not until the infrastructure was fully in place.

  The shuttle transporting Jason sailed toward a cylindrical ship called the Hub. Small spacecraft buzzed around it like a swarm of Nean bees. The shuttle was packed with civvies, and it was slower than a dropship, but Jason wanted to blend with the crowd. He’d traded his ASF uniform for civilian clothes, which consisted of a black synthe-leather jacket on a dark-red shirt, and matching jeans.

  Jason disembarked once the shuttle arrived at the Hub’s hangar and boarded another one to Dionysus. This one was packed too. He recognized two off-duty marines in civilian clothes traveling to the infamous ship for leisure.

  Everyone knew the Dionysus was the hub of illegal activities. The authorities tolerated them… for now.

  From the outside, the ship looked unprepossessing, with its ovoid hull overgrown with habitation modules. They had been hastily added after the evacuation of Vega to increase its carrying capacity.

  Yet its interior harbored a never-ending festival, garish as hell. Purple, pink, and green neon lights flooded the halls and corridors. Holo-screens played promotional vids for all sorts of products and services. Lights flashed and twinkled, inviting passersby to visit seller’s booths and shops.

  As Jason stepped through the shuttle doors, his senses were overwhelmed. He strolled amid brightly colored booths selling anything and everything, from bizarre trinkets to highly valuable, illegal items such as overclocked neuroenhancers.

  “Care for some entertainment, handsome,” crooned a scantily-dressed, blue-skinned female. Her skin color was surely the result of a cosmetic retrovirus. Her facial implants shimmered like stars on that dark-blue backdrop.

  “Now I regret not taking that cold shower,” he muttered, glancing at the hooker’s generous bosom.

  Keep walking, he ordered himself mentally.

  A short, middle-aged male, his bald scalp covered with multicolored tattoos, grabbed Jason’s arm and tried to pull him toward his booth. He was babbling so fast Jason could barely understand him.

  “Luminescent, holographic, psychotropic, erogenic—any, any tattoo you like! Come, come! Give you a good deal! Cheap, cheap!”

  When Jason narrowed his eyes and glared at him, the tattoo artist jerked back and scuttled away.

  An obese female clad in an ample purple dress stood on a pedestal, took a theatrical pose, and sang an opera Jason found vaguely familiar. He wasn’t sure what she was selling, tracheal implants maybe.

  Jason put on his enhanced reality goggles and followed the green arrows on his HUD, trying not to get distracted. They led him to the nightclub where he expected to find the black-market kingpin. Two mean-looking goons with shotguns stopped him at the entrance.

  “Who’re ya?” one of them barked. “Never seen ya’round here.”

  Jason showed him two energy cells the size of a coin.

  “Gunz stay here,” the bouncer growled, pointing at an armored locker. “No weaponz inside.”

  Jason pulled his blaster and handed it to the goon, together with the energy cells. As he entered the nightclub, he sensed the beat of industrial music vibrating in his bones. He had a feeling of déjà vu—the nightclub was an accurate recreation of the infamous Moonas Nightclub on Vega-IV.

  “Look who’s here, my old pal Jase!” Rico Varez greeted him with open arms, literally. The scoundrel wore a black silk waistcoat on a white shirt and a scarlet bandana around his neck. His facial implants glinted in the semi-darkness, reflecting the strobe lights. “I knew you couldn’t resist the temptation.”

  “And I knew you could survive anything,” Jason shouted over the music and clubbers. “It would take more than an apocalypse to put an end to your shady enterprises.”

  Varez set his hands on Jason’s shoulders and offered him a charismatic smile. “Look at you, a respectable officer. My, my. Even in civilian clothes, your bearing gives it away.” He gestured toward the bar. “What can I get you?”

  Jason didn’t move. “I’m not here to take advantage of your hospitality, Varez. I need intel.”

  “I see, though I’m a little disappointed. All right, it’s not a social call then. I’ll help you, if you make it worth my while.”

  “Let’s go somewhere private. I can barely hear myself thinking with all this racket.”

  The nightclub owner ushered Jason through the throng toward a backdoor. Behind it, a narrow corridor led to a dimly lit room decorated in the baroque style and furnished with synthe-leather sofas. Two females wearing nothing but bra and string panties were locked in a passionate embrace.

  “Scram,” Varez barked.

  The girls gave him a sad puppy look and hurried to the exit. One of them threw a lustful glance at Jason. “See ya later, sugar,” she whispered before disappearing through the door.

  “Right, let’s talk business, then.” Varez punched a button to lock the door.


  “You run the black market, no point in denying it,” Jason started. “I need to know who’s selling needlers.”

  Varez raised his eyebrows, feigning innocence. “Hey, I’m not involved in that kind of stuff. Don’t treat me like a criminal. I’m an entrepreneur and a defender of free trade.”

  “Are you now?” Jason scoffed. “A defender of free trade? Maybe you should run for the presidency. I’m sure you’d rebuild our economy in no time.”

  “I’m dead serious. On Neo, everything is owned by the state. People work twelve-hour shifts for the state, and they’re paid in Alliance credits they can use only to buy stuff from the state. There’s no free economy on the planet. The way I see it, Dionysus is an oasis of free enterprise in the desert of state-controlled economy.”

  Jason spread his arms in exasperation. “But we arrived just a few months ago. We’re still settling the planet. We can’t build a functional economy in weeks. You know what I’m thinking? You’re profiting from people’s misery, as always.”

  Varez clicked his tongue. “Jase the moralist. You didn’t have any scruples when you were doing drug runs for me.”

  “Now, back to my question; do your people sell weapons?”

  “Mostly blasters for self-defense. I’m a big believer in the right to carry arms.”

  “You do know it’s illegal for civilians to own blasters without license on Alliance ships. So you just admitted breaking the law.”

  Varez extended his arms and pressed his fists together. “Righty, you’ve got my confession. Cuff me.”

  Jason stepped toward him and gave him a glare. “Don’t toy with me, Varez. I’m no cop, I’m a high-ranking ASF officer. This isn’t Vega, where you could lawyer up, make a generous contribution to the mayor’s election campaign, and walk out of jail a free man. If you interfere with my investigation, I’ll throw you in the brig. If you resist arrest, I’ll rearrange that pretty mug of yours. Even your whores won’t recognize you.”

  Varez didn’t flinch. Instead, his lips curled into a sly smile. “Jase, Jase, Jase,” he drawled. “You’ve chosen a fitting surname for yourself. I like that flame in your eyes. Believe it or not, I always had high hopes for you. It’s a shame our paths diverged.”

  “Yep, they diverged when I got arrested and you threw me under the bus to save your skin.”

  “That’s an old story. It’s all in the past.” Varez waved his hand dismissively. “Let’s look forward to the future. I’m not your enemy, Jase. In fact, I provide a vital service to the Alliance. But despite my views on free trade, there are lines I don’t cross. Needlers are a no-go on my ship. If someone’s selling them, it’s without my knowledge or blessing.”

  Jason relaxed a little. “All right, let’s pretend I believe you. If I want to hire a contractor, what do I need to do?”

  “Hmm, that’s not trivial.” Varez’s hand slid on his impeccably groomed black hair while he pondered. “There aren’t any regular contractors in the fleet. Most people who can handle weapons were drafted into the military or law enforcement after the Battle of Chloris. The security personnel I hired—”

  “You mean your goons and enforcers,” Jason clarified.

  “As I said, my security personnel aren’t professionals, strictly speaking.”

  “C’mon, there must be a few army rejects willing to sell their skills for a living,” Jason insisted. “Even after the Battle of Chloris the ASF maintained standards. Not all volunteers got in. Fleet Security isn’t picky, but even they turned down a few candidates, mainly for psychological reasons. No one wants to see a psycho with a badge.”

  “What about Colonel Kor? Was he relieved of duty and tried, as DeCourt has promised?”

  Jason shook his head. “It’s…complicated. Technically, when the president granted amnesty after the Battle of Chloris, it also extended to Kwan Kor. That’s why KK wasn’t tried. But he’s no longer working for Fleet Security. That’s all I’m allowed to tell you about him.”

  “You think I’m that ignorant?” Varez smirked. “He’s working for counterintelligence, a branch of the AIS. Someone has been murdered with a needler, and your job is to find out who provided the crime weapon. I can help you with that. It’s in my best interest to find the son of a bug who’s dealing in illegal weapons without my knowledge. Give me a few days, and I’ll find out.”

  “No deal,” Jason snapped. “I don’t trust you. Your goons will just throw that dealer into a biomatter recycler, and we’ll lose our lead. I must question him and find out to whom he sold a high-pressure water pistol.”

  Varez’s lips formed a circle. “Oh, a water pistol. That’s quite a high-tech needler. You think a contractor who escaped from Vega is hiding somewhere in the fleet and dealing in weapons?”

  “You see any other explanation?”

  “Nope. That must be it. I’ve got an idea. Contractors are all bionically enhanced. They have secret compartments implanted in the body, usually in the thigh or the belly, where they carry a needler. If we had scanners that could detect a water pistol hidden in a compartment like that…”

  “We don’t have any, but I know who can design one.” Jason turned to the door.

  “You’re gonna leave the Dionysus without even trying one of our special beverages?” Varez said to his back. “No kidding?”

  Jason unlocked the door and walked out without a word. Varez’s hospitality was lost on him. He could forgive a lot, but not betrayal.

  07

  Bogey

  Jason didn’t get a chance to share his findings with the murder investigation team. Captain O’Neil recalled him to his ship for an urgent op. As Jason arrived at the hangar bay, a Spearhead-class dropship was already waiting for him. The ASF was doing everything with military efficiency.

  The dropship took him to the Phenix. Battlegroup Vega was already assembled, and the four ships constituting it orbited side by side.

  The Remembrance was the only bioship in the battlegroup. Its carapace of adaptive biosynthetic armor glistened under the sunlight. The human rebels had captured it during the uprising on Vega-IV with Hunt’s help. This antique 300-meter-long destroyer had been built at a time when mammoths still roamed the Earth. However, it had been refitted three years back to incorporate the most recent tech, including a cloaking device.

  Totaling 450 meters in length, the Phenix was the largest ship in the battlegroup. This Chronos-class support carrier transported a wing of six squadrons, each twelve starfighters strong, plus other craft such as Spearhead and Griffin dropships. Like most military ships of human make, it was mechanical, made of nanoalloys, and shaped like a sword, with two wing-like structures on the sides.

  The two other ships were the Pericles, a Hephaestus-class attack destroyer the same size as the Remembrance, and the Mirage, a Hypnos-class stealthy frigate half that size.

  Once on board the Phenix, Jason proceeded to the locker room and changed into a flight suit. O’Neil ordered him directly to his starfighter.

  “What’s the emergency, captain?” Jason’s tone conveyed enthusiasm more than worry; he was itching for action.

  “The Remembrance detected an unauthorized interstellar transmission from Neo’s surface,” O’Neil replied. “The signal can travel only a few parsecs, so we sent probes to all neighboring systems. One of the probes found a relay in an uninhabited system, at the edge of the Shield.”

  The region called the Shield bordered the charted space known to the Taar’kuun and separated it from the star cluster where Neo was located. Navigators usually considered the Shield impenetrable due to its peculiar gravitational terrain.

  While listening to his CO, Jason proceeded to the launch tube where his bird was set for takeoff. The hangar resonated with the whirring of mechanical arms loading starfighters into launch tubes.

  “What kind of relay?” Jason asked.

  “Human made, but it’s not in our databanks.”

  “If it’s not Biozi or ASF, who could’ve deployed it?”

&nb
sp; “Your guess is as good as mine, commander. Your job is to disable it. Your Katanas have been fitted with EMP ordnance for this op.”

  The door to the launch tube whooshed open, and Jason jumped into the cockpit of his KF-10 starfighter. He loved this bird, as it offered the optimal compromise between maneuverability, firepower, and resilience.

  “Roger, captain. I’ll lead the squadron in person.”

  The Phenix set in motion, clearing Neo’s gravity well. Jumping near a planet was always risky. To prevent incoming jumps, the ASF deployed a network of wormhole inhibitors around the planet. The interdiction zone usually extended one tenth of a light second from the surface, or thirty thousand klicks. If hostiles shot ordnance through a wormhole at near-light speed, automated planetary defenses would still have one tenth of a second to intercept it.

  Through the external cam of the ship, Jason watched Neo’s disk shrink. Whatever awaited him, he was happy to leave that rusty ball of rock behind.

  He knew Riley was on the Remembrance, loyal to her battle station. He yearned to call her, but resisted the temptation. She wouldn’t appreciate being disturbed by a social call while on duty.

  Once the battlegroup was out of the interdiction zone, the Mirage shot a quantum laser into space to create an artificial wormhole. The frigate flew through the wormhole first, followed a second later by the Pericles, then the Remembrance, and finally the Phenix.

  They emerged in a young system full of asteroids and clouds of space dust. Jason admired the sunbeams streaming through an asteroid field, pervading the clouds with golden light.

  Outside the four green dots symbolizing Battlegroup Vega, the map was clear of artificial objects. The relay and the probe weren’t showing. Something was probably interfering with sensors. Jason listened to the exchange between senior officers as they discussed options.

  Captain Hunt decided to play it safe, and the battlegroup dispatched probes to locate the relay.

  Finally, the chief tex of the Remembrance, Lieutenant Mitsu, announced that one of the probes had located the relay. A golden dot lit on Jason’s map.