Hart Of Vengeance

by Gregory Sanders

  "A lawyer, huh," Peterson chimed in. "I'm afraid that Baxby won't be needing your services anymore."

  "Baxby wasn't my client," Bridger told them, "Captain Zachary Ridgeway was. Baxby came to see my client yesterday and told him that he had information that would prove my client was innocent."

  "Innocent? That's a laugh," Peterson scoffed. "I watched the video feed of that trial. I heard the recording of Ridgeway giving the order to fire. If he's innocent, I'm the Police Chief."

  Bridger glared at the detective. "I'm not at liberty to discuss the details of the case with you. I only came by to see if I could convince Baxby to share the evidence he had with me. That now seems to be impossible."

  Chen tried to calm the tension building between the officer and his partner. "Can you tell us what evidence he was supposed to have? If we find it, we can have it sent to you after our investigation is closed."

  "Bridger pondered for a moment. "I probably shouldn't discuss it, but seeing how Baxby is dead, I doubt there is any other way. However, I need your assurances that what I am about to tell you will not be included in any of your case files."

  "We can't make a promise..." Chen started.

  "Agreed," the female detective cut off her partner. "As long as it doesn't have anything directly related to this case, it won't go in any written reports." Chen glared at his partner. She was too eager to ignore the rules and regulations when it suited her.

  Bridger looked around to see if anyone else was trying to listen to their conversation. Convinced that no one was, he began. "Baxby was the bridge science officer on the Dauntless during the Rylan Starburst incident occurred. According to my client, he came to visit him before he was transferred to Protectorate custody. Baxby told my client that he had reprogrammed one of the search drones to emit a false engine signal and the drone then held a close proximity to the passenger ship. That is why the Dauntless target sensors locked on to it."

  "Hang on," Peterson interrupted. "Baxby said he caused the passenger ship to be targetted? Why? Murder is usually about money or love. Couldn't be money, because he and his wife didn't have any. They were barely making ends meet. We've found nothing in his apartment to make us think he was involved with anyone other than his wife, so that seems to rule out love. So if it wasn't money, and it wasn't love, why did he do it?"

  "I don't know," Bridger shook his head. "That is why I was wanting to talk with him. Regardless, he said he had a data chip that had proof that would exonerate my client, and that is what I would like to have if you find it."

  "If we find it, we'll make sure you get a copy," Chen assured the officer. "We can send you a copy of our report too if you would like. I'm afraid that is all we can do for you though. Now, if you will excuse us, we do have a crime scene to work." The officer shooked their hands and left."

  "What do you make of that?" Peterson asked her partner, stepping out of the doorway to left the medical examiner through.

  "Well, if all of that is true," Chen thought aloud, "it would offer another explanation of why he killed himself beyond just grief. If he was already overcome with guilt, then add in the loss of his wife, it might have pushed him over the edge."

  "Do you think it's true, or just the wishful thinking of a man that in all likelihood is going to die at the hands of the Rylans?" Peterson queried.

  "What anyone thinks or wants to believe doesn't matter," Chen replied. "What matters is what the evidence tells us."

  Detectives," the medical examiner called out, "I think you might want to see this." Peterson and Chen walked across the apartment to the couch where the body of Baxby was still laying.

  "What'cha got Doc?" Peterson asked.

  "I found this in the deceased's right pants pocket," the medical examiner handed them a small sealed evidence bag with a data chip inside. "Technology items are not in my scope, so it's all yours." Peterson took the bag from the medical examiner and stared at the chip inside.

  "Maybe there is something to what that military lawyer said after all," Peterson admitted.

  "Maybe," Chen agreed, "but it doesn't mean that it has any bearing on this investigation. Log it in, and move on."

  Peterson was still staring at the chip. Wondering what secrets it held. Are you worth dying for? Then another thought crossed her mind. Are you worth killing for?

  CHAPTER 6

  Danielle and K'oron stood leaning over the sensor console on the Strak'zar bridge. They were going through the data that had been downloaded from the Drah'jik's main computer. K'oron would display one set of logs on the console, then display another set, and often return to the first set. He had a very serious look on his face that Danielle had learned to mean that frustration was getting the best of him.

  "Maybe we should take a break," she offered. "We've been staring at the same four log files over and over without a break."

  "No," was K'oron's one-word reply. His tone told her more than the look on his face that he wasn't finding what he was looking for. Commander Br'dar was standing beside them, wanting to offer assistance, but uncertain of what K'oron was searching the files to find.

  "General, Major, a break might be a good idea," Br'dar tried to ease the tension. "I can tell our galley master to prepare you something to eat. You've had a long trip to get here, then your exploration of the Drah'jik, and now this research. Surely you are exhausted, meaning no offense."

  "I am hungry, Commander," Danielle said. "I wouldn't mind a bite to eat. "K'oron could use something as well." She gave K'oron's leg a bump with her boot. "Even if the General doesn't want to admit it."

  "Very well," K'oron gave in. "We will take a short break to eat, then return to our search. I need not remind either of you the importance of finding No'tok."

  "No, you do not," Danielle agreed. She wanted to find No'tok more than probably anyone else, but she had learned from her time in the Sovereign Angels that exhaustion served no purpose.

  "Good," Br'dar interjected. "If you will follow me, please." Br'dar escorted them from the bridge to the primary lift on the ship. They descended three levels to the main living deck. This was where the galley was located, as well as the physical fitness, medical, and recreational areas of the ship were found.

  Danielle noticed as they walked that Br'dar's ship was much newer in design than the Drah'jik. The Drah'jik had been very utilitarian, whereas the Strak'zar was seemed to have almost every comfort a person could imagine.

  "Commander, you're ship has a lot of non-military areas. In fact, I'm amazed at some of the recreational and exercise options available," Danielle stated. "It's not like any battleship I've been on before."

  "Thank you, Major," Br'dar took her statement as a compliment. "The Strak'zar serves a dual role. We are not only a defensive ship but also serve as a research and exploration ship. There is still a great amount of the universe left to explore on our side of your border, as I would expect is true of your side. Because of this, we are often away from the nearest spaceport for extended periods of time. Therefore it was decided that certain 'extras' be included in the ship design to help reduce crew fatigue from long voyages. The Strak'zar is almost entirely self-sufficient, and we can go for over one thousand high suns without the need to return to a port for resupply."

  "Amazing," Danielle admitted. "We have long-range ships in the Commonwealth, but they are only for colonizing missions. They are much larger than your ship, and are not capable of anything beyond the most basic defensive weapons." The more time that Danielle spent in the Dominion, the more she realized how valuable a relationship would be between the Commonwealth and the Dominion. That is if we can get through the current crisis, and restore things to the way they were.

  They reached a set of doors and Br'dar led them inside. "Here we are," he said to them. Then turning to the galley staff, "The General and the Major are my guests. Get them anything they want." Br'dar then turned back to Danielle and K'oron. "I will return to the bridge. Feel free to take your time. Enjoy your meal and rest a m
oment." Br'dar walked to the doors and left them for the first time since their arrival on the Strak'zar.

  Danielle flagged down a member of the galley staff. "Can I get a cup of pra'kit?" The steward nodded and headed for the kitchen. He came back shortly carrying a steaming cup of the green liquid.

  "I don't know how you drink that," K'oron said shaking his head. "All that vile liquid will do is make your heart race and head hurt."

  Danielle chuckled at his comment. "It's very similar to a hot beverage we have in the Commonwealth. Coffee. Although our beverage is brown in color, not green. They do taste and smell very similar. Coffee is what helped get me through the long nights of studying at the academy." Her face took on a more serious appearance. "The log data isn't telling us anything about No'tok's movements that we haven't already figured out. So, the question is, where in the Protectorate would he go? Who in the Protectorate is involved in the Legion?"

  "It could be anyone," he sighed. "We've seen first-hand that the Legion has infiltrated both the Commonwealth and Dominion governments on various levels, so I think it is safe to assume that they have done the same to the Protectorate."

  Danielle nodded in agreement while finishing a sip from her cup. "Maybe we need to look at this from a different point of view. Instead of trying to figure out where No'tok might have gone, what if we considered what Gaelon's next move might be? Lakeisha told me that he was a member of the Legion Triumvirate, so he has a lot at stake, especially now that he is Prime Minister."

  "Yes, he will be very careful now," K'oron replied. "He is a public figure, so it will be difficult for him to direct the day to day operations of the Legion as he might have done before. Which means that he has to have someone close to him that can go unnoticed when needed."

  "So, probably a staff member," she thought aloud. "We need to capture a member of the Legion to get more information."

  "Isn't that ironic?" K'oron gave a light laugh. "In order to find out who the members of the Legion are, we need to capture a member of the Legion. It sounds so simple. If only." He moved his head from side to side, the vertebrae in his neck popping. "We probably should return to V'drell Prime and inform the Emperor that No'tok escaped. Also, the families of the Drah'jik crew will need to be informed."

  "You're right," she responded. "They deserve to know the truth of what happened to their loved ones. That the commander they had trusted slaughtered them just to cover his tracks. They need to know that a monster is roaming loose in the universe."

  "Whether the Emperor decides to share that information is his decision alone," K'oron reminded her. He could again see that fire of absolute hatred burning in her eyes. Every time he saw it he worried that he would lose her to this desire for revenge. "Danielle, our mission is to capture No'tok and bring him to stand before the Emperor. We are not going to harm him if it can be avoided."

  She gave him a hard stare. "It won't be. He's not going to go back quietly. He's a coward, and he will die before he returns. So, if that's what he wants, I'll be sure to give him his wish."

  ***

  Peterson hated going into the basement of the police building. It smelled like a cave and was dimly lit. At least that is what she thought. Chen told her that it was all in her head. That the basement didn't smell any different than the rest of the floors in the building. It didn't matter. She still didn't like being down there and was eager to leave the technician area and go back up to the floor that homicide used.

  As soon as this guy gets done with the chip we can get out of here. It couldn't be soon enough. Peterson and Chin were standing behind cyber crimes technician, Bobby Philmore, who was attempting to unscramble the data chip that had been found in Baxby's pocket.

  "You know, this might go faster if you weren't hovering," Philmore offered, the irritation obvious.

  "This might also go faster if you'd quit complaining and just do your job," Peterson replied with an equal amount of irritation.

  "Can both of you just quit?" Chen tried to intervene. "He's doing his best Sandra, just cut him some slack."

  They had been waiting for almost an hour while Philmore had tried numerous decryption methods on the chip. All three of them were starting to get frustrated. Especially Philmore, who was not about to let a piece of software code beat him.

  "I've tried everything I can think of," Philmore said, his head sagging. "The data structure is like nothing I've seen before, and I thought I had seen it all working here. This must be some kind of new encryption method."

  "What if it isn't?" Chen asked. "What if it's the opposite? We were told that this might, and I stress the 'might' part, have been used by an anti-government conspiracy group. Think about it. If you're scared that your data might fall into the wrong hands, and your resources are more limited than the people who might intercept your data, what do you do? If you can't overpower your enemy, you have to outsmart them. What were those original computers called? You know the ones before quantum computers, the old, slow ones?"

  "I have no idea what you are even talking about," Peterson admitted.

  "I do," Philmore jumped in. "You're talking about binary computers. I don't think any of them still exist, except one or two that are in museums, and I doubt those actually work anymore. But..." His fingers started flying back and forth across the console in front of him. "I found an old emulator used by archeology students that mimics one of those old computers. Let's see if the chip responds to any of the ancient data formats supported by this emulator."

  "What's an emulator?" Peterson was beginning to feel like an idiot just being in the same room as these two men.

  "An emulator is a computer application that pretends to be a physical machine," Chen clarified. "In this case, Bobby is trying to use a program that is pretending to be one of those ancient computers."

  "We got it!" Philmore almost jumped up out of his chair.

  "You decrypted it?" Peterson asked.

  "Not exactly," Philmore smiled. "It wasn't encrypted at all. We just had to find the right primitive format to correctly read the data. This...", he pulled up some text on his screen, "is your data. It's in an ancient Earth format called ASCII."

  "Still looks like gibberish to me," Peterson said after looking at the screen. "I'm guessing that is some kind of computer code?"

  "Yes," Chen nodded, "it is computer code. But I've never seen code like that. Perhaps an ancient programming language since it's in an ancient file format. Any ideas, Bobby?"

  The technician scratched his head. "It looks like it like some kind of low-level machine code. The kind of stuff that you use to program the chips found in various devices and machines. I'll run the code through the system and see if it can figure out what this chip does. If nothing else, maybe we can figure out what kind of chip it's for."

  Peterson patted Philmore on the shoulder. "Sorry for giving you such a hard time earlier," she apologized. "Something about this case is bothering me. Things just don't seem to add up to the obvious conclusion. I know that if anyone can figure that chip out, it's you."

  "As soon as I know anything, I'll let both of you know," Philmore told them as they started walking to the door.

  "Sounds good," Chen replied.

  The two detectives exited the technician area and stepped back into the lift to return to their floor. Peterson almost walked into the back wall of the lift. Her mind was trying to put the few pieces of evidence they had together into some kind of picture.

  "Oh no," Chen commented, "I've seen that look before."

  "What look?" Peterson asked, snapped out of her thoughts.

  "That look that tells me that I need to call my wife and tell her that I won't make it for dinner tonight," Chen answered. "What are you thinking about?"

  "What if that lawyer was right?" Peterson posed the question. "What if there is some conspiracy? That chip being so complicated is making what should be an open-and-shut case of suicide, seem like it's less simple. Let's go back to Baxby's apartment. See if we missed anythi
ng."

  "Not sure what could have been missed," he replied shaking his head. "There were three crime scene technicians, a medical examiner, and his assistant, and two detectives all pouring over that apartment."

  "Yep," she smiled, "and all of us were looking at a poor suicide victim when we were there. We weren't looking at it as a homicide. Maybe with that thought in mind, we might find something new."

  Chen was about to argue that this case had not been declared a homicide investigation, that sometimes suicides were just messy and lacking closure, but he knew better than to try and talk her out of going.

  "Okay," he surrendered, "give me five minutes and I'll meet you in the garage. I've got to do something first."

  "Oh?" Peterson inquired. "What's that?"

  "Call my wife," Chen sighed. "To tell her I won't make dinner tonight."

  ***

  Regent Zhang Zhi was finishing up the last few items of his day and stood up from the throne he had been sitting in. As he stepped down from the dais, Lakeisha Johnson and Monica Potter, who had been on guard rotation, silently walked up on each side to escort him back to his personal quarters. When he assumed power, he had contemplated making changes to some of the old trappings of the monarchy, such as the Sovereign Angels. When he was a baron, he often thought that the monarch having their own personal military order was a blatant abuse of power. The Sovereign Angels were a small military force recruited from the Commonwealth Fleet that answered directly to the monarch. Now that he was regent, they were under his authority now. They were a useful tool for handling matters that a ruler might not want to broadcast throughout their entire military. I'm glad that I didn't follow my initial instincts.

  He entered the living area of the palace. Monica stayed outside the door, while Lakeisha performed a security sweep of the royal suite.

  "Your room is secure, Your Grace," Lakeisha informed the Regent.

  "Thank you, Lieutenant," Zhi acknowledged. "That will be all." Lakeisha bowed and exited the suite, closing the door behind her.