Traitor Winds - Kestrel Saga: Vol. 0 (Kestrel Saga - Origins)

by Stephen A. Fender

  Angelika withdrew one of her sidearms and tossed it to Rothchild. “So noted. Now, are you ready to shut up and hear the plan?”

  Chapter 16

  As soon as Angelika received the coded signal from Ah’J Maboda that the guards on the surrounding walls had been eliminated, she and the prisoners dashed out from the detainment center. They quickly made their way to the three-story fleet supply building that was directly between the garrison and the administrative building. In the early morning sunlight, Angelika could see that the path to both the main gate and the administrative building was clear. Scanning her eyes up the fifty-foot-tall wall, she saw Maboda, his staff swinging with precision as it connected with the side of one of Krador’s guards. The man fell outside the wall, out of Angelika’s line of sight. Hearing an explosion a fraction of a second later, she assumed the guard had fallen onto one of the many landmines surrounding the compound. With the northern half of the compound now under their control, it was only a matter of seconds before the Marines stationed in the southern half were roused into action.

  Confirming her belief, the general alarm began clanging throughout the complex.

  “Maboda,” she called into her communicator. “We’re about to have company. How many men do you still have?”

  “We lost three Sanissaric, and the rest are weary from their Kinetic projections.”

  “I don’t think we need to worry about subterfuge at this point. I’ve freed the prisoners. Most of them will take refuge in the northern Marine barracks until we can take the rest of the complex. I have a small team that needs to get into the administrative building, but we’ll need you to cover us.”

  “It will be done.”

  Angelika, Rothchild, the two Sanissaric guards, and a handful of Sector Command Marines who had seen better days dashed out from behind the fleet supply center and made their way to the administrative building. Before they reached the transparent double doors, a squad of Krador’s men appeared across the courtyard. As the men opened fire, one of the Sector Command Marines took two shots to the chest and fell in a crumpled heap. Thankfully, the entrance alcove for the administrative building afforded some cover from Krador’s people.

  “Get behind me!” Angelika shouted to the unarmed former prisoners.

  The two Sanissarics opened fire at the same time Maboda and his people began firing from the tops of the walls. Krador’s people were forced to take cover under the combined onslaught, but not before one of the Sanissarics with Angelika had fallen.

  Behind Angelika, the doors to the admin building swooshed open as two more of Krador’s lackeys rushed out. They seemed surprised to find themselves face to face with their former prisoners. In an instant, Captain Rothchild dispatched them with the pistol given to him by Angelika.

  “Get inside before they seal the doors!” Angelika shouted over her shoulder.

  With the remaining Sanissarics covering them, the small band made their way into the lobby. As soon as they were in, the heavy front doors slammed shut before the Sanissarics had a chance to get inside. The heavy protection of the building muffled the sounds of the battle outside, and Angelika took the momentary reprieve to gather her thoughts.

  “How many ways are there into this building?” Rothchild asked between ragged breaths.

  “Just this door, and we’re going to have to get it open in order for our reinforcements to get in.”

  “How do we do that?”

  The band of five humans was in a T-shaped compartment, with doors on every side of them. Angelika motioned to the door opposite the main entrance. “Through that door is a large briefing room. Beyond it is the computer control center. If we can knock out the computers, we can disable most of their defenses.”

  “How many people are in this building?”

  Angelika scanned her surroundings. “It’s difficult to say without a life sign scanner. Based on the projections I’ve received, there could be as few as twenty…or as many as two hundred.”

  “And you and I are the only ones armed,” Rothchild remarked.

  “Remember the plan, Captain. I need you to take two men and get to the armory. There should be enough weapons there to outfit all the prisoners we liberated.”

  “Where?” he asked, scanning the area.

  She motioned to the door on her right. “Through that door is a long corridor. Near the end will be a door on your right. Through that will be another door on your right. That’s the armory.”

  “Guarded?”

  Angelika smirked. “Of course. By three men, and at all times. There may even be more, now that the base is on alert.”

  “That doesn’t put the odds in my favor.”

  “I have it on good authority that they shouldn’t be as big a problem as you think,” she replied with a smile.

  Rothchild’s right eyebrow snapped up. “An inside man?”

  “You’d call it an inside heathen.”

  The Captain’s eyes rolled. “I really don’t like the sound of this.”

  “There’s no time to argue. I have to get to the computer control center, Captain. Take your men and secure the armory. Once that’s done, signal me with this,” she handed him a small communication device. “I’ll give you your next task from there.”

  Defeated, Rothchild scowled at her before turning to his men. “Davis, Fleming, you’re with me. The remainder of you stay with Agent Jordan. Don’t let anything happen to her, or it’ll be your asses. Understood?”

  The three Marines placed under Angelika’s guard snapped salutes. After he had returned them, he took Davis and Fleming through the doors on Angelika’s right. When the doors had shut behind him, Angelika stepped into the passageway ahead of her, the three Marines stepping up quickly behind her.

  The long corridor stretched out before Captain Rothchild and his men was strangely silent. Corporal Davis and Sergeant Fleming had taken up positions—albeit with marked dissatisfaction—behind their commander. Even with only one eye functioning, Rothchild trusted that his aim with their sole sidearm was better than either of the men not far removed from basic training. Outside, the explosions racking the compound were resonating dimly in the passageway. Whatever the building walls were lined with, they were well insulated. Even the annoying loud alarm klaxons were barely audible. Still, there should have been any number of personnel guarding this corridor, yet Rothchild and his men were entirely alone. Their boot heels clicked on the polished black floor as they crept toward their destination.

  The door to the next corridor opened with a barely audible whine of its micro-servo motors. There in the passageway—not five feet from Rothchild—were three of Krador’s men. Their silver-trimmed blue uniforms were neatly pressed, and the tips of their boots gleamed with a well-applied shine. Each was armed, and each was standing at parade rest. Rothchild stared at them for a long moment, wondering why they hadn’t leapt at him the moment the doors had opened.

  As he stepped though the doorway, the three guards snapped to attention in unison.

  “Admiral on the deck!” the guard nearest the armory door shouted.

  Rothchild looked down at his uniform in disbelief. When he turned to his disheveled Marines, they likewise gave him a look of confusion. The captain turned back to the guard who had spoken, then straightened his back and went toe-to-toe with the younger human officer.

  “What is your name?” he asked in a commanding voice.

  “Specialist First-Class Gibbs, sir!” the guard shouted, as if he had just come in contact with a surly drill sergeant.

  “And who do you think I am, Specialist Gibbs?”

  “Sir?” the man asked in confusion.

  “Don’t say ‘sir’ like I just asked you who left the toilet seat up!” Rothchild shouted. “Answer my question!”

  “You’re Vice Admiral Navarro, sir!” the man said, visibly shaken by the “admiral’s” presence.

  Rothchild eyed him suspiciously. Is this what Agent Jordan meant when she told me not to worry about
gaining access to the armory? “And…my associates?”

  The young man’s eyes darted toward the Sector Command Marines, then shot back forward, not daring to look Rothchild in the eye. “I don’t know who they are, sir, but I can see that they are both squadron commanders.”

  “Your powers of observation are staggering, Specialist Gibbs,” Rothchild snapped, not knowing what names he should ascribe to his men. “These are my new aids.”

  Across from the door to the armory, another door slid open. A Jidoan emerged, silently holding both of his palms up toward Krador’s men. This must be what Jordan had mentioned. What did she call them? Kinetics?

  The coppery-skinned Jidoan turned to Rothchild and silently bowed his head. The Kinetic was wearing a uniform similar to the guards protecting the armory, but was unarmed. Upon closer inspection, Rothchild recognized the badge that the Jidoan was wearing. He’d seen it in the garrison when he had been imprisoned there. This Jidoan was a janitor. Evidently he had placed the thought in the mind of the guards that Rothchild was Navarro, and the deception seemed to be working perfectly.

  The Captain nodded back slowly, then turned to Specialist Gibbs resolutely. “We’re here to conduct an inspection of the armory. Fleet Admiral Krador wants all weapons accounted for before we depart the system.”

  “Of course, sir!”

  Rothchild waited in silence for a moment before speaking again. “Well, are you going to open the door for me?”

  Gibbs’s eyes darted to Rothchild’s in confusion, then went back to staring beyond the captain. “You’ll have to put your access card in the slot. The door won’t open without it.”

  “My card?” Rothchild said to himself, then absently began rummage through imaginary pockets. As he did, he noticed the badge on the young man’s lapel. Taking a chance that Gibbs himself had access, Rothchild looked to the Kinetic in the passageway. Forming the thought in his mind, Rothchild stared at the Jidoan for a split second before the Kinetic nodded once again.

  “It seems, Specialist Gibbs, that my badge is attached to your uniform.”

  Gibbs looked at Rothchild in surprise. “Sir?”

  “My badge, Specialist! It’s on your uniform. How did it get there?”

  Gibbs looked down to his chest as he fumbled with his badge. “I don’t…know…”

  “If you return it to me this instant I will overlook your foolishness in this matter.”

  Gibbs seemed to mull the concept over in his mind as he continued to handle his badge. Rothchild reached cautiously down for his weapon, hoping he could catch Gibbs off guard if he needed to. As his hand came to rest on the pistol’s grip, Gibbs unclasped his badge and held it out for Rothchild.

  “Yes, sir. Of course, sir. I’m very sorry.”

  The Captain’s hand snatched the card and slipped it into the slot near the door. There was a series of beeps from the card reader, and the door to the armory popped open.

  “I should say you are, Specialist Gibbs. However, I will not report this overt dereliction of duty at this time. I suggest you mind your place, Specialist.”

  “Yes, sir. Of course, sir!”

  “Good lad. You’re doing an excellent job. Now, continue to guard this corridor until further notice.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  Gibbs snapped a salute, which Rothchild returned before entering the armory and letting the door close behind him. After a deep exhalation, Rothchild turned to the two bewildered Marines.

  “Do you have any idea what just happened, sir?” Fleming asked.

  A similarly bewildered Corporal Davis was scratching at his disheveled brown hair. “It’s like they were hypnotized or something.”

  Captain Rothchild shared their sentiments. “I’m not entirely sure, men. Take this as a lesson: trust nothing or no one. I don’t believe for a second these Jidoans are here to help us at all, but we’re here now, so make the most of it.” He turned and surveyed the contents of the large room. Rack after rack was arrayed with rifles, pistols, and heavy weaponry from assorted races—mostly from Unified space. Eyeing a pile of nylon bags on one shelf, he grabbed two and tossed them to the Marines. “Pack as many weapons as you can fit in these duffels. Stuff your pockets with energy packs and anything small, like laser grenades or flash bombs. We’re going to have a hell of a fight on our hands soon, and we need to arm as many of our comrades as we can.”

  Angelika’s task hadn’t been as easy. With no Kinetics at her disposal, she and her three Marines had to take down a group of five of Krador’s people in the storage space outside the complex’s mainframe locker. Angelika had taken out two herself, one with her pistol and the other with a series of kicks to the groin and midsection.

  The Unified Marines had lashed out with their own pent-up rage, each disabling a man in just under a few minutes. Angelika was sure that at least two of Krador’s men the Marines had taken care of were dead, the victims of broken necks. The third was out cold, knocked unconscious by a pipe one of the Marines had found lying on the ground.

  Two of Krador’s men had been armed, and the Unified Marines wasted little time in taking their weapons and energy packs. Angelika likewise lifted a security badge from one of the men, which she used to open the computer storage room’s door.

  Beyond the door, stretching nearly the length of the building, was the compound’s computer mainframe. There were four enormous computers, each buzzing and beeping as they churned through various computational cycles. Each was labeled, identifying what it controlled: scientific and environmental controls, communications, security, and data storage and processing.

  “Do we take them all out, ma’am?” asked the lanky sergeant at her side.

  “I don’t think that’ll be necessary. Just a few key systems to help our friends out there get the upper hand.”

  The Marine eyed the large, humming computer banks with astonishment. Angelika reasoned that information technology was not this particular grunt’s stock-in-trade.

  “We’re going to be very cautious here, Sergeant. These are extremely delicate systems.”

  “I thought this was going to be a simple smash-job. You know, disable the systems…demoralize the enemy.”

  Angelika shook her head. “On any other day, I might agree with that course of action. However, we need the communications systems to remain at peak efficiency. Also, whatever information had been stored in Krador’s databases needs to be retrieved and analyzed back in Unified space. There’s no telling how helpful it could be to the war effort against the Kafarans.”

  At the mention of the Kafarans, the Marine’s chin rose and his postured heightened. “I lost a bunch of buddies of mine during the Purge of Alpha Triangulus. If you say that something on these machines can pay those bloody Kafarans back for what they did, then you’ve got my help one hundred percent. Just tell us what to do, ma’am.”

  Angelika gave the Marine a crash course in data retrieval. In no time, the sergeant and his two comrades had all the requisite panels off the computers and were slowly extracting the datacube drives. With nothing to place them in, the Marines took of what remained of their shirts and bundled up the drives as best they could.

  “What now, Agent Jordan?”

  She smiled as she stepped over to the security computer. Accessing the complex’s security lockout feature, she placed an override worm into the system, making sure that every door on the upper level would be sealed until it was opened only by her access card. “Hopefully, that will keep Krador in his office until I can get to him.”

  “You’re just going to make him wait comfortably until you get there?” one of the younger Marines asked ruefully, nodding his head toward the environmental computer.

  Her eyebrow went up, as did her respect for the quick thinking of the Marine. “Not a bad idea. Why don’t we make things for him a little…less comfortable.”

  “But he still has the ability to communicate, correct?”

  Angelika nodded as she adjusted the temperature and humidity
controls for the handful of offices on the second level. “He can cry all he wants for his mommy, but the only one who’s coming is going to be me.”

  With the last of the computers set, Angelika and the Marines quickly evacuated the space. With the door lockout in effect, only she could reenter the computer room. If anyone tried to force any door in the building, it would take too long. The battle would be long over before they breached them.

  Dashing back out into the lobby, she and her team nearly ran headlong into Captain Rothchild and his two men. She eyed the stuffed bags of weapons he and his men were carrying, and Rothchild smiled at the bundles of datacube drives held by Angelika’s team.

  “Did you get enough weapons to outfit the prisoners?” Angelika asked.

  “Not nearly enough to equip them all, but definitely enough to make it a good fight.”

  “We only need to stop them from entering the Marine barracks where the prisoners are for a little while longer. The bulk of the Sanissaric are outside the main gate right now, waiting for my signal to breach the perimeter.”

  “How many of them are there?”

  Angelika smiled as she took one of the bags of weapons from Sergeant Fleming. “More than enough, Captain. And with your continued assistance, we’ll have the cavalry here in no time.”

  Rothchild watched as Angelika withdrew two pistols from the bag, tucking them into the belt on her back. She then replaced the power pack on her remaining pistol.

  “Looks like you’re all dressed up and ready to party,” the captain said.

  “And you’re invited. But we need to get these weapons to the Marine barracks and into the hands of your people.”

  Rothchild turned to one of the Marines who had been with Angelika. “You heard the lady, Sergeant. Think you can manage?”

  The robust Marine unstrapped a high-caliber rifle he’d retrieved from the armory. Priming the weapon with a single pump located under the barrel, he held the weapon at the ready. “Yes, sir.”

  “Then get to it, Sergeant.”