by Will Crudge
***
“Commodore?” Steve transmitted directly to the command console, as he was previously directed to.
“Yes, Steve?”
“The maintenance system from the Skull-Crusher has cornered a Chimera. I’ve taken the liberty to request that a blank AI node be used to contain it,” Steve reported.
“Excellent! But I do have one question. Does this maintenance system have anything to do with the Hailstorm IDENT transponder reporting it as a ‘Battleship’?”
“Oh… Yeah. Ummm. He kind of did a few upgrades along the way. Even though technically the UAHC hasn’t fielded battleships in over a century, he’s kind of… configured it to be one.” Steve wasn’t too happy about being the messenger.
“What the fuck did he do to my ship, Steve?” The Commodore was less than amused. “The Rear Admiral is going to be pissed! I stuck my neck out to purge this vessel of hostile alien fuck-sticks, but I didn’t authorize a total overhaul!”
“I wouldn’t be too sure, sir. Your ship is now slightly more powerful than it would be in dreadnaught configuration. In fact, the dreadnaught add-ons would probably just get in the way. Even docked, this ship will be a sneaky surprise for anything that may come through that hyper gate!”
“Steve. WHAT – DID – HE – DO – TO – MY – SHIP?!”
“Well, sir, let’s start with the coffee maker...”
Cops and Assassins
Location: UAHC Heavy Battle Cruiser, Hailstorm, Situation Room; Tangine Interstellar Port
Date Time: Post Interstellar 08/02/4201 0901HRS Local
System: Sol System, Mid Region
Rear Admiral John paced back and forth in his situation room while keeping his eyes and ears locked onto the feeds that piped into his display. The situation room was the Admiral’s own command center, as his presence on the CIC may be disruptive during activities that don’t require his immediate attention.
What have we gotten ourselves into here? He thought. The Hailstorm had been docked for about ten days, and still had another two scheduled in port. Most of his crew were enjoying a well-earned liberty pass after the brand-new ship had spent several months performing functions checks and crew certifications. Now they waited for additional support ships to trickle in with supplies, and other warships that would bring the newly anointed heavy squadron up to operational strength.
John couldn’t help but be nervous. His first ever real Active Command had quickly turned into a real Command just a day earlier. The UAHC had recognized a state of war between them and the Crimson Alliance. He’d received initial briefings from the new Fleet Marshal, Darius. The mighty battle cruiser wouldn’t be off to begin its tour of pirate interdiction, after all. The Hailstorm was the largest and newest warship in the entire Sol System, and the Admiralty couldn’t afford to send it to the fringes of UAHC controlled space.
Nobody would ever think that the Crimson Fleets would be able to penetrate UAHC controlled space so quickly. The Civilian Quorum had mandated that the fleet forces fan out into the fringes of the collective multi-system nation, and patrol for any threats to commerce. The powerful economy of the UAHC was unparalleled and had to be protected at all costs. But now the cost was too high. With oppressive peace-time restrictions imposed upon the military, they were forced to comply. It wasn’t without a fight, however. Most of the senior Admirals and Generals had been very vocal about their protests. Leaving the UAHC strategically vulnerable was now the greatest threat to peace. There would be no consolidated forces that would have time to fully adjust to a wartime posture.
Rear Admiral John was the senior ranking officer in the UAHC’s home system. Humanity’s home system. The senior leaders at Fleet HQ on Earth didn’t have flagships and were not in any position to actively command a theater of combat directly. It was just John. Technically the Major General was over the combined marine and ground-pounder expeditionary forces outranked him by time in grade, it was John that held the senior post. The General would only assume command over squadron operations if an engagement became primarily a ground-based operation. That wasn’t likely. Not at first.
The Crimson subversion of UAHC Military AI’s was all telling. It meant that the Crimson was directly disrupting their warships from operating with maximum efficiency. The Crimson infiltration in most of the major hyper gate stations in the inner stars was also disconcerting. The Crimson must have been planning this for decades. Perhaps since the end of the second War of Humanity.
But why now? It’s not like the Crimson forces hadn’t recovered slowly after the war. In fact, they probably recovered much faster than the UAHC did. The UAHC Civil Quorum had instituted reforms that essentially removed every commissioned officer from service and formed a Spartanesque form of military service. Only a minute fraction of humans throughout the UAHC would even be selected as a candidate to serve. Only a fraction of those would survive the first four years of the fifteen years of brutal training. Only about half of those would even graduate—brainwashed, compliant, ego-less—the deadliest warriors that humankind would ever produce… all with no ambition besides following orders and fighting to the death.
This brought John back to his own question. Why now? The in a flash, the answer was clear. The Chimera. But the alien digital entities were obviously made by someone or something. They gave the Crimson Alliance the tools required to subvert the AI’s of their enemies. But that advantage was fleeting. Perhaps they didn’t expect the Chimera to be countered so quickly. Perhaps they didn’t care. But whatever the source of the tech, they also provided the Crimson with vastly improved FTL. Their slip-space systems were a close match to the UAHC Fleet’s. The big picture was obvious. Create an enemy, by supporting piracy. Exploit the UAHC Civilian
Quorum’s fear of a threatened economy. Spread out UAHC Fleet and isolate them by vast distances of space. Use the Chimera to subvert AI’s, disrupt operations, and restrict communications. Attempt to force the hand of the government to seek wartime status, whereby granting supreme power to their puppet Acting Fleet Marshal Morgan. Seize control of the open space hyper gate stations through infiltration. Let the Crimson forces converge into the center of UAHC space and force a quick surrender. Fuck!
He looked at the display again. Lt. Col. Kara Elders was speaking to her contact in front of the airlock. He had a younger man present, as well. He had already been briefed that they were local civil law enforcement and had no direct ties to station contract security—which were known to be riddled with planted Crimson agents. War Master Jimma Alba stood near Kara with her larger than life cheetah. John shook his head. I had no idea they still existed. He looked to see Captain David facing out and trying to scan for threats as inconspicuously as possible. I would be doing the same exact thing. John thought. He increased the volume of the audio to hear what was being said, but something else caught his eye.
“CIC, this is Rear Admiral John! Immediate threat… Main airlock… deploy contingencies, NOW!”
***
“Good to see you again, Sergeant Griffith!” Kara gave the man a handshake and a smile.
“I’m very glad you’re here, Major… Colonel,” Griffith corrected himself as he had glanced down at Kara’s rank insignia on her status display.
“Yes, this just happened. I’m sure you didn’t get word so quickly.” She tilted her head at her right arm, where her display was mounted.
“And who are your… friends.” Griffith’s eyes looked past Kara’s left shoulder to see the War Master standing behind her. Kara turned her head and saw what he was looking at. She stepped back and gestured her hands as to imply an introduction.
“I am War Master Jimma Alba.” Jimma smiled and extended her hand. Griffith gripped her hand in kind but seemed taken back at the seemingly thin woman’s tight grip.
“Sergeant Griffith, I’m sorry, but I didn’t think you guys… gals… were still around.” He was certainly perplexed, but Jimma’s face didn’t reveal any change of expression.
“I didn’t either. Trust me, she’s the real deal when she reaches for that blade!” David chimed in as he spoke over his own shoulder.
“I’ll bet.” Griffith’s eyes scanned the handle of the massive katana-like blade. He should his head while squinting his eyes. Kara assumed he was getting his head out of the clouds and grounding himself.
“And this is Sasha,” Kara said, and then the massive cheetah came out from behind Jimma. Griffith was certainly taken back now and stepped back in surprise. He was speechless and could only point and stare.
Sasha just gave a feline smile and began to rumble her feline vocalizations into her voice module. “It’s alright, Sergeant Griffith. I get that a lot. We Zodiacs don’t get out much anymore.” She gave a wink.
“That thing talks!” The younger man spat, and his eyes went wide.
“Shut it, Corporal!” Griffith shot him a stern look, and the incredulous Corporal backed down.
“It’s alright, fellas. She’s harmless unless you cross her. And don’t bother trying to shoot her. It will only make her mad!” Kara laughed.
“Well, let’s not get killed by this pretty four-legged lady here. Right, Corporal?” Griffith shot another glare at him, and then turned back to Kara.
“Back on task,” Griffith said, and Kara nodded in agreement. “We’ve been finding bodies. Security firm bodies. I’m sure you heard about the Sergeant Major Gunner fella—I was told he was an old friend of yours. I’m sorry.”
Kara frowned, and then just nodded. “I’ve known him for a long time. I would have never expected him to be a part of the Crimson plot, and unfortunately I believe my assessment was proven to be correct.”
“Indeed. Station security must have realized they were sloppy with him, and they insisted we return the body over to them. They cited some garbage that it was a station security affair, and they were taking over the investigation. My hands were tied, and I was forced to comply in the end. But not before I did a ballistics scan at the scene.” Griffith stopped speaking and brought up his portable field scanner. He handed it to Kara and nodded.
She gave him a look of curiosity, and gripped the pistol grip of the scanner and brought up the display. Her eyes went wide.
“I see your investigative skills are as sharp as ever! You noticed it faster than I did.” Griffith raised his eyebrows as if to display admiration for Kara’s powers of observation.
“This is a common slug type. It’s a favorite among pirates. Cheap, but effective. But the rifling grooves don’t match typical hardware you’d find in the inner stars.” She kept her gaze on the screen and zoomed in.
She was tapping the screen to populate measuring icons. She was now measuring the scratches that were formed while it was launched through the barrel of whatever rifle had fired it.
“Crimson battle rifle. The grooves indicate a seven to one twist angle. That’s unique among modern weapons, and only Crimson ballistic rifles are known to use it.”
“Bingo. That’s what I figured. Nothing added up. Not to mention, the subsequent bodies we’d found—all gray uniformed security types, were killed by less ‘traceable means’. The oddest part was, that there were no demands that we turned over those investigations to station security.”
“They realized they’d screwed up and were covering their tracks. They wanted Gunner’s body back before he was autopsied. I guess they didn’t realize you guess had good portable scanning tech, did they,” Kara said as a matter of fact.
“That’s my guess.” Griffith shrugged. “We’ve been cataloging all types of anomalies since then. We would have never even bothered to notice them before we found your friend. But we’ve begun reaching out to our contacts, and even begun to forge uneasy alliances with local gangs and at least one crime syndicate. When it comes to the Crimson Alliance, we’re all in this together. I hate that we had to resort to it, but it would seem we were powerless otherwise.”
“Have the Crimson been monitoring your traffic?” David asked.
“We have no evidence of that, Captain. But we’re operating as if they are. Until we know what we’re dealing with, we must use maximum caution. Reaching out to the thugs on this station was straightforward. Most interaction we have with them has always been face to face anyway. That’s one of the main reasons why we’ve had to forge alliances with our mortal enemies.”
“The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” Jimma interjected.
“Yes, exactly. It’s not ideal, but these thugs pack some heat, and have enough numbers to match the security forces if need be. They’re prepared to fight but won’t do it until they know they have support.” Griffith finished his statement by pointing to the Hailstorm.
“Well, you’ll have it. I can’t promise how much, or in what form… but this ship isn’t going anywhere. If you see it leave port through a gate or HAL launcher, then you know we’re leaving for good but if you see this bucket leave in open space, then that means this station will stay within weapons range. But I wouldn’t expect either to happen. This is the last line of defense to protect Earth from attack. Besides, using long-range weapons would have too high a risk of collateral damage,” David said.
“Doesn’t sound reassuring.” The Corporal rolled his eyes. For the first time during this meeting, Griffith agreed with the younger cop.
“He’s got a point,” Griffith said, and then folded his arms.
“You don’t have to trust the UAHC. Trust in me,” Jimma said. Griffith’s eyes got wide and he unfolded his arms. His hardened cop persona was dissipating
“I would never question the word of a War Master.” He nodded, then turned to Kara. “And I would never doubt you, Kara. I’ve known you since you were little. I’m sorry if I’m being pessimistic.”
“N
o worries.” Kara gave Griffith a hug. “A good cop has to be pragmatic, right?” She gave him a wink.
“Give your father my best, when you see him. These Crimson fuck-heads have been blocking or intercepting every data-burst that gets sent through the gates. ‘Heightened security measures’ or whatever those assholes try to say.” Griffith changed his demeanor.
“That brings up a good point…” David turned around. “We’re in a state of war. Tangine station isn’t authorized to block comms for official military business. That also extends, to a certain degree, law enforcement as well.”
“Meaning?” Kara asked.
“Meaning, that the STC is breaking the law!” Griffith began to rub his chin. “That would mean…”
“That would mean that Rear Admiral John has the authority to arrest whoever is responsible!” David finished Griffith’s statement.
“CONTACT!” Kara shouted, and brought her ballistic rifle to bear. Plasma bolts, ballistic rounds, and pulse blasts filled the air.
As if by instinct, they all formed a skirmish line and immediately returned fire. A dozen attackers in regular street clothes were firing from cover. They were across the one-hundred-meter-wide corridor and were using miscellaneous storage crates and loading equipment for cover.
“Shots fired! Shots fired! UAHC Hailstorm docking jig! Request immediate backup! A dozen armed assailants firing small arms at two plainclothes officers, two UAHC officers, and a War Master!” Griffith shouted into his comm.
Kara couldn’t hear the reply amidst the weapons fire, but she could here Griffith’s next transmission.
“I confirm! Yes, a War Master! Why would I prank over the net?” Griffith spat.
Kara was too busy shooting to realize two new bodies to either side of her firing position. It then dawned on her that the two armed Soldiers guarding the airlock were joining the party.
Enemy bodies began to drop readily, and within twenty some odd seconds, the few remaining enemies were trying to flee. But they were tossed back by a red colored suit of armor, and one more was knocked away altogether.
