Dangerous Data (The Meridian Crew Book 2)

by Blake B. Rivers

  “About twenty minutes until we’re within range of whatever defenses they have,” replied Sam, her eyes narrowed and fixed on the readouts in front of her.

  “Boy’s been through a lot,” said Benkei. “Might want to check in on him.”

  “My thoughts exactly,” said Amelia.

  “Good luck,” said Sasha, stuffing the last large hunk of cheese into his mouth, his words muffled.

  Amelia hoisted herself off of her seat and headed down the narrowed, smooth-walled hallways of the ship. She didn’t have to look hard for Alain. He was sitting at the large, circular table in the dining area, the low lights above the table casting his face in a hollow glow, a beer in front of him. He hardly looked up as Amelia walked in. “You all right?” she asked, plopping down into the seat across from him.

  “Yea’ just nothing I want to burden the rest of you with.”

  “The Basileus?” asked Amelia, hoisting herself out of her seat and grabbing a beer from the fridge.

  “Yeah. Well, more than that.”

  “Shoot.”

  “The Basileus, seeing you, it’s just got me thinking about how fast the last ten years have gone. After the Federation collapsed, I spent about a month at most on my own, trying to figure out what I was going to do with myself now that the thing that I’d been with since I was barely a teenager was gone. I thought about going out on my own, but it seemed like too much, like something I wouldn’t be able to hack. So, when I found out that New York was declaring itself independent and looking for experienced naval officers, I joined up.”

  “You’re forgetting what some might consider a key detail to that story,” said Amelia, looking at Alain with narrowed eyes over her beer.

  She was referring to the promise Alain and she made to one another, back when they were barely adults, when they were in love. The day the emperor was assassinated by colonist forces, and it seemed clear that the Federation was on the verge of collapse, colonist chips moving from outpost to outpost, gaining ground by the day over the last year until they finally held space supremacy over Earth, the Marquise, the flagship of the colonist army in charge of the blockade over Europe- the heart of the Federation government.

  Alain and Amelia made a promise to stay together, no matter what happened, to make their way in the system in this strange, new world that they were about the enter at one another’s side.

  But when the time came to go AWOL, to abandon the crumbling empire, Amelia heard not a word from Alain.

  “I thought you were dead for years,” said Amelia. “Years.”

  “I’m sorry,” Alain. “I don’t know what else I can say. But I knew I couldn’t go with you. I knew I couldn’t handle the life of a merc, or a freelance officer, or whatever you had in mind. I needed structure. So, when the opportunity with the New York presented itself, I took it.”

  “Couldn’t have dropped me a line, said something, anything?”

  “Things just went so fast. It was like I blinked and it was a year into my tour. And by then, they wouldn’t have taken too kindly to former Federation officers keeping in touch with former Federation black-ops agents.” A moment passed. “But it’s good to see you,” he said, taking another sip of his beer.

  “Yeah, you, too,” said Amelia.

  A long silence hung in the air as the two looked into one another’s eyes, each unsure of what to make of the moment.

  But before either of them could react, Benkei and Sasha entered the hub.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” said Benkei as Sasha hurried over to the fridge. “But we’re only minutes away.”

  “Hey, what’s with ‘Doolittle’?” asked Sasha in his typically blunt manner, a wad of cold cuts in his hand.

  Amelia felt her face go out, and a grin crossed Alain’s lips.

  “It’s stupid,” she said. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “I have to admit, I’m curious, too.”

  “It’s fine,” said Alain. “You know they’re going to hound you until you crack. Might as well get it out in the open now.”

  “You ever heard of My Fair Lady?” asked Amelia.

  “No,” said Sasha, his mouth full of meat.

  “Of course,” said Benkei. “The twentieth-century film Pygmalion. I have to admit, I had quite the thing for Audrey Hepburn back when I was younger. They don’t make them like that anymore.” A wistful expression crossed over his face.

  “Well, Sasha,” said Amelia. “The movie’s about a girl who comes from a lower-class background, and she has an accent that marked her as a poor person.”

  “You know,” said Alain, affecting a Cockney accent. “’Ello!’”

  Amelia laughed. “’Ello, govnah!’” she replied in her own attempt at the accent. Anyway, she meets a guy who teaches her to talk like a, you know sophisticated person,” said Alain.

  “In Geist training, they teach you a lot about weaponry, sneaking into secure locations undetected, assassinating high-profile targets, but not a lot about how to interact with people. To make friends. To date,” said Amelia.

  “So, if you’ve ever talked to a Geist,” added Alain. “Which you wouldn’t have, unless they were about to put a round in your forehead, they all tend to talk with what I would charitably consider a ‘flat affect’.”

  “I had met one before,” said Benkei. “Strange guy. Talked like a robot.”

  Amelia let her face shift into a neutral, impassive expression, her blue eyes still and calm. “Understood, sir,” she said, her words flat, not a trace of emotion to be found. “Target neutralized.”

  “Yeah, that’s it,” said Benkei.

  “Creepy,” said Sasha.

  “So, when we met, I had to, well, teach her how to talk like a normal person.”

  “And that’s how I ended up as the charming woman you know and love,” said Amelia.

  “Hence, ‘Doolitte’,” he said.

  “Thanks, ‘enry, for explainin’ me nickname,” said Amelia, the smile returning to her face.

  “It was a pleasure,” he said, raising his beer.

  “Guys,” said Sam, cutting in through the comms. “We’re there.”

  CHAPTER 25

  The crew returned to the flight deck and saw that just as Sam said, they were approaching the array.

  It was just as the schematics outlined it: a large satellite of silver durasteel, its surface pocked and marred by various collisions with space junk over the years. Its panels were spread open like the petals of a great, man-made flower, the barrel of the cannon a smooth, rounded tube with a tip that crackled with white energy and pointed down at the North American continent below. The back of the satellite was a large, bulky station where they crew and power supply of the Azani were housed. And off in the distance was the familiar form of Icarus Station.

  “Hidden in plain sight, as they say,” said Benkei.

  “Cloaking now,” said Sam adjusting the dials on the display to her right, a shimmering washing over the flight screen as the Meridian cloaked.

  “This thing’s got an actual cloak,” said Alain, a trace of awe in his voice. “They’ve been trying to crack cloaking for years in New York. All this time the Federation had it figured out.”

  “One of a kind ship!” said Sam. “And she’s all mine.”

  Amelia considered correcting her, but thought better of it.

  “Plan, Am?” asked Benkei.

  “Sam, are you close enough to scan the array?” asked Amelia.

  “Almost…one second…there!” she said, dialing in a scan. “Looks like about…twenty to thirty people on that thing.”

  “Sasha?” asked Amelia. “What’d you learn about this cannon when you had the schematics.”

  “Well,” said Sasha, crunching into an apple. “It’s a prototype. Wasn’t really intended for the use they’re putting it through. The Feds built this one with the intention of using it until it fried, then using the data gained from it to build the next generation, which would be a little less unstable.”
/>   “And?” asked Amelia.

  “And, that means that the power supply to the Azani is highly unstable. If we can get in there and get me access to it, I should be able to overload it, which would prevent them from getting another shot off anytime soon.”

  “Then we can take out Geff,” said Amelia.

  “Maybe,” said Sasha. “What I’m suggesting would just prevent the power supply from functioning normally. Meaning, being able to fire, charge, and fire again. If Geff wanted to, he could overload the power supply and fire one last time, destroying the array in the process.”

  “So, it all depends on how much of a true believer we’re dealing with.”

  “I wouldn’t put it past a Confed to do something like that,” said Alain. “They’re…a fanatical people, to be blunt. If New York cares about the money and independence, Confeds priorities are faith and expansion.”

  “Then Geff’s the exact type who’d be first in line to be a martyr for the cause,” said Amelia.

  “That’s right,” added Alain.

  “Then here’s the plan: Sam, you bring the Meridian in and get us docked however you can. We’ll split into two groups. Benkei, you lead Sam and Sash to the engine room and cover him while he gets the power supply shorted. And Alain and I will find Geff and make sure he doesn’t take one for the team.”

  The crew nodded, all fine with the plan.

  “Then let’s do it.”

  CHAPTER 26

  Sam brought the Meridian closer to the Azani array, the massive weapon growing larger and larger as they drew nearer.

  “There!” said Sam, pointing to a small cluster of comms dishes on the side of the array. “I can park right next to those. We can leave the ship here and they’ll never notice.”

  “Smart move,” said Sasha. “Old comms arrays like that always had trouble with detecting anything that close. With the cloak, we’ll be practically invisible.”

  “And we can enter right through the maintenance access point,” said Sam.

  “Works for me,” said Amelia. “Let’s get ready.”

  The crew minus Sam headed down to supply room, each of them loading up with a gunpower pistol and a rifle, Amelia opting for a silenced submachine gun. Amelia ducked into a nearby closet and slipped into her stealth suit. And when she returned, she couldn’t help but notice Alain’s eyes move up and down her body in her skin-tight outfit. She chose to say nothing, but a small grin crossed her face.

  “When’s the last time you’ve fired a weapon, officer?” asked Amelia, tucking her pistol into the built-in holster on her back waist.

  “It’s been a while, but I did win that marksmanship medal back in officer’s training school, if you remember.”

  “Yeah, I remember. You didn’t shut up about it for a week.”

  The crew geared up and headed for the access port where the Meridian was connected. Amelia led the team, turning the access crank, a circular metal handle, until the door opened with a thunk, the small, circular passage now open. Amelia climbed through the tube, keenly aware as always that nothing more than fifteen centimeters of durasteel was the only thing shielding her against hard vacuum. She moved through the two or so meters, reaching the maintenance door, a round, bulging door dinged and dented, like a shoddier version of the Meridian’s. And on the door, was the upward-pointed blade and laurel wreath symbol of the Federation.

  Amelia pulled open the hatch, revealing a small, airlock.

  “One at a time, it looks like,” she said, turning back to the rest of the crew.

  She pulled the hatch shut, pressurized the lock, and after the green all-clear illuminated, she opened the opposite side hatch and dropped down onto the latticed durasteel floor of the array. Slipping her pistol out of her holster, she moved to the wall and pressed her back against it.

  Over the next few minutes, the rest of the crew made their way through the hatch. They stood in the hallway, which appeared to be a ring-shaped space that formed an inner circle in the array.

  “This is a circle, so you get to the same place no matter which way you go, but that way,” he pointed down one end of the hallway, “is closer to the power plant. It goes down, then the bridge is up. That should be where Geff is hiding out.”

  “Then let’s split up and do this,” said Amelia.

  Benkei, Sam, and Sasha headed down their end of the hallway, and Amelia and Alain went down theirs.

  “No one’s patrolling the hallway,” said Amelia, noting how quiet the dingy, circular space was.

  “Yeah, I don’t like this,” Alain, the slim, black form of his laser rifle cradled in his hands, the power cable leading to a battery pack on his wrist.

  “You think they knew we were coming?” asked Amelia.

  “I’d be surprised. If anything, they’re expecting a full assault by the New York fleet. But even that would be a surprise to them, seeing how long it would take command to get mobilized.”

  “Then they’re up top, or down below,” said Amelia.

  Right as she finished her sentence, however, a door to their right whooshed open. A pair of Icarus mercenaries stepped out and into the hallway, both chatting in lively tones that dropped into dead silence as soon as they noticed Amelia and Alain.

  “What the hell?” said one, a scrawny man with a shaved head and wearing ratty clothes.

  The other man, a tall, muscular merc with tribal tattoos that snaked up and down his arm reacted by activating the comms on his wrist as the first man slipped a gun out his holster.

  But before the scrawny man could fire and the beefy man could make his call, Amelia took aim with her pistol and cracked off two shots, both men taking a round dead-center in the forehead. Both still wearing expressions of surprise, their now-lifeless bodies dropped into heaps.

  “Shit!” cried Alain as Amelia slipped her pistol back into her holster.

  “You’re gonna need to be a little quicker on the draw than that, Mr. Higgins,” said Amelia with a wink.

  Stepping over the bodies and peering into the room the men stepped out from, she saw that it was a disgusting, grime-covered bathroom.

  “This hallway looks like it’s just a passage between the two sections of the station, with a nice bathroom here for stopping off. Meaning, I don’t think we’re going to see anyone else here unless they happen to need to get somewhere else on the ship.”

  “Noted,” said Alain. “What should we do with these two?”

  Amelia stuck a thumb toward the bathroom – exactly what Alain was fearing. Taking in a deep breath, he squatted down, scooping the feet of the heavier of the two men into his arms.

  ***

  “Is this it?” asked Sam, pointing down at a circular grate in the floor, a lightning-bolt scoring on the surface.

  “Must be,” said Sasha, tucking away his slate.

  A moment passed, and the two turned to Benkei, their eyes expectant. Benkei rolled his own in response.

  “Okay, fine, big man goes first, right?” he said, squatting down and working open the grate.

  “Well, big man with a big gun,” said Sasha.

  Benkei looked back at Madchen, which was holstered on his back. Remembering himself, he pulled the gun’s power cord from its tight coil on the side and worked it around to the white power pack on his hip. With a soft click, the cable attached, and the gun filled with killing energy.

  “There we go,” said Benkei with the tone a master might take with a faithful hound sitting at his feet.

  He pried the grate open and looked down into it, seeing a long ladder than descended into darkness.

  “You’re sure?” asked Benkei with raised eyebrows.

  “Reasonably,” said Sasha.

  Benkei hoisted himself down the ladder making Madchen’s cable didn’t snag on anything.

  “Hey, B,” said Sasha.

  “Yes?”

  “If you get down there and you see a big, ah, tube-type thing full of blue-ish white energy, do not shoot it.”

  “Why
, would it be bad?”

  Sasha thought for a moment. “It would be extraordinarily bad.”

  “Duly noted.”

  Benkei made his way down the ladder, sinking deeper and deeper into the darkness below.

  ***

  “Plan?” asked Alain, trying to shake the sight of the filthy bathroom from his mind.

  “Hm,” said Amelia, placing her hands on her slim hips and stretching her back. “How about this: I go up, scope the place out, and clear the way for you. Then you come in and back me up.”

  “Uh, sure,” said Alain, adjusting his dura steel-plated vest. “Just remember that it’s been a while since I’ve killed anyone. Up close, that is.”

  “Then it sounds like you’re due,” said Amelia, a sly expression on her face as she sized up the jump to the ceiling access point.

  “Keep your slate on,” said Amelia before making a spy leap and grabbing a small outcropping of metal next to the access panel. Pulling herself up until she was parallel to the ceiling, she loosened her grip with one hand, now supporting her entire body with one arm. Sweat already forming on her brow, she unlocked the access point, the dirty metal panel unlocking with a clank and dropping down several centimeters. Amelia then, her supporting arm screaming for relief, pushed the panel out of the way with her free hand. Then, returning her hand to the outcropping, she relieved the pressure on the supporting arm, and with a graceful, silent heave, swung her body up and through the now open point, her suit suppressing the sound of her feet on the ground.

  “Impressive,” said Alain.

  Amelia responded by sticking her face in front of the access point and pressing a finger against her lips.

  Alain got the hint, and hushed up.

  Amelia returned her attention to the dark maintenance passage where she found herself. Looking around, she spotted a spiral staircase that ascended ever upward, terminating in another entry point to what she figured was the command center of the array. Amelia then walked closer to them and peered through via a vent.

  She saw that it was a tall, upward passage filled with appeared to be a dozen heavily-armed men who patrolling, lounging, and chatting. They struck Amelia as the worst scum that Icarus had to offer, and that Geff was clearly going for quantity over quality with his mercs. But she realized that she’d be cut to pieces in an open shooting match, regardless of how poorly-trained these men might be.