“Yes, sir.”
Dean said to Steg as Riddell left the conference room, “Our Intel team has been busy; they’ll have material for you by morning. More station gossip and lots of planet-sourced reports. They’ve been tapping into a number of sources. I’ve arranged a meeting—you, me, the Intel team. You’ll be impressed.”
###
After an early breakfast, Steg headed to the bridge. He had an hour to spare before meeting with Dean and his team and thought Commander Gillespie would be on watch. The commander maintained bridge discipline even though Wasp was docked.
“Commander Gillespie’s in a meeting, Captain,” said Aadan, looking up from her Helm workstation. “She’s with Stacia and Sara and one of the sergeants, Sergeant Menyll, I think.”
“Thanks. I’ll come back, later.” He was about to leave the bridge when the conference room door opened.
“Steg, I thought I heard your voice. Can you join us?” Gillespie asked.
“Certainly.”
The commander closed the door behind him. He nodded his greeting to the people seated around the conference table. He was intrigued at Gillespie’s serious expressions.
“Steg,” said the commander. “I’ll brief you quickly. We decided to sell the surplus water—about five thousand tons—from Monty’s habitat to the way station. They offered a good price and I negotiated a discount on the Eos Market Net charges. They agreed to it because the buyer is the station itself. The station sent a water barge yesterday evening, and we’ve been draining off about a thousand tons each load. As the team drained the water, they’ve been checking the exposed areas, section by section. About midnight, they made a somewhat gruesome discovery. They found what they suspected were human remains—two apparently carefully butchered upper legs. They were in a freezer, stored alongside fish and other food items we’d brought on board for Monty and his wives. I had Stacia run a DNA test—she has the results. Stacia?”
“Yes, ma’am. About two years ago one of the mercenaries—a sergeant—disappeared. We were in transit, and there seemed to be no way for him to get off Wasp. After a thorough search, Colonel Attwood concluded the sergeant had somehow managed to trick the ship’s security software. The colonel listed him as having jumped ship at our previous stop. Of course, Monty’s area wasn’t searched.” She paused.
“And?” Steg prompted.
“The DNA test from the remains in Monty’s habitat matches the record we have of the missing sergeant.”
Commander Gillespie added, “If my memory serves me, the man—Sergeant Teoq, he was from one of the more remote Rim-based Terran systems—was suspicious of Monty. He created something of a furor, much to Attwood’s annoyance. He was a new recruit, and when he discovered Monty was on board, he wanted to cancel his contract. He claimed the cephalopods were killers, and they had wiped out a human settlement on a neighboring system.”
“Yes, ma’am—that’s the man. The colonel wouldn’t agree to terminate his contract. He claimed the sergeant had received a sign-on payment and would have to repay it, but the sergeant had already remitted the money to his family. There was quite an argument. The sergeant was convincing, upset a lot of men.”
“So you think Monty somehow killed this man?” asked Steg.
Stacia nodded. “Yes, Captain. Killed, and even worse, we think the cephalopods have eaten the other parts of his body. The legs were carefully stored with other food items.”
“I am so relieved Monty and his wives are no longer on board my ship.” Gillespie shuddered.
“It was a sad ending for the sergeant,” said Steg. There was silent agreement, in both expressions and demeanor, from everyone.
He continued, “We should report this to the Alliance destroyer—the skipper will be interested to hear this information about these cephalopods.”
The commander said, “I’ll make an announcement to the crew and mercenaries, otherwise there’ll be a whole range of rumors. It’ll certainly remove any remaining sympathy people might hold for Monty.”
“We should arrange a service for Sergeant Teoq. We have records of his family; we can advise them of his death and send a payment to them?” The questioner was the sergeant who was leading the water disposal effort. He shook his head. “Shocked us all, I can tell you.”
“I agree with your suggestion, Sergeant. Talk to Captain Dean; he’ll see to that, I’m sure. Stacia, prepare a full report, document your test method and results, and we’ll add the details to our files. I’ll send a copy to the Alliance destroyer. Steg’s correct; they’ll be interested.”
*****
Chapter 33
Steg hurried to Dean’s Intel meeting. He was almost late after spending time to review and approve the file Commander Gillespie planned to send to the Alliance warship. The meeting was located in one of the smaller conference rooms adjacent to the war room, which Steg had established for the Ebony Company. The Intel team was already in place, readying their presentation, when he entered.
Dean stood. “Sir, I’d like you to meet our Intel people. They’ve been working almost without sleep since we arrived. Let me make introductions. You know Tessa, of course.”
Steg nodded. “I didn’t know you were into intelligence, Tessa.”
“Fain have lots of intelligence, sir.” Her smile dimpled her cheeks.
“I believe you.” The other members of the team laughed at the exchange.
Dean continued, “Sergeant Ester Velez is the team leader.”
The sergeant, a heavyworlder, stood and said. “Pleased to meet you, sir.”
“Likewise, sergeant.”
“Sir, my team,” she said, taking over from the captain. She indicated each person in turn. “Howe and Beagle are our computer experts—they’re almost as good as you, sir. Texra is our sociologist. Blue is our media expert. She can find gossip on anyone, anywhere—we sometimes think she makes it up, but somehow she can verify all of it. Tessa adds another dimension to our analysis, mainly ensuring we’re not missing the obvious. She is good at questioning our assumptions. I do military assessments and bring it all together—after I’ve double checked everything.”
Steg acknowledged each member of the team and then sat down. He said, “I’m impressed, Sergeant.”
“Thank you, sir. Our function was replaced by Monty when he came on board. The colonel decided our team was unnecessary, so it’s a pleasure to be back, so to speak. I’ve prepared an overview and I’ll use the viewscreen.”
Ester signaled and after a moment the large screen across the end of the room displayed a live image of the main continent. She explained, “We’re tapping into some of the local geo-sats. Your anonymous files were helpful—if I may say so, the Alliance has good intelligence sources. In contrast, the material supplied by the bureaucrats is exceptionally poor. It contained about five names, some addresses, and not much more.”
“I didn’t expect we’d get real data from the president’s office.”
Ester smiled. “We’ve discovered a lot on our own. We’ve taken scandal media material—gossip, if you like—from the station’s unofficial social channels and added law enforcement records and media reports from the planet. The mix is revealing. As a result, we’ve collected far better information about the rebels and the people backing them. The leader is located here, a mile or so outside this town, New Dempsey.”
She clicked a pointer and the image changed to display the region. “Population of the town and surrounding areas is about forty thousand, and it’s five hundred klicks from Eos City. The leader’s name is Ser Oskar Bedwyr—he’s the planet’s primary producer of Joy, predominantly for export. He has a well-protected—in local terms—residence on a hundred acres. There’s about five hundred acres under cultivation, all J-trees. We get to astronomical numbers when we try to estimate his revenue. His security’s local, we’ve counted about twenty-five guards who focus on keeping competitors away and providing personal protection. He has another twenty general employees at his resid
ence. We believe these buildings here, about a mile away”—she highlighted a nearby complex—“are his Joy processing and packing plants. Another thirty or more guards are there, plus a large number of workers, maybe a hundred. Local villages provide the labor.”
“Any exo-armor?” Dean asked.
“No, sir, none. We’ve searched everywhere we can. There’s nothing that looks like armor, anywhere on the planet—not privately and not with the military. We’ve checked the light frigates here on the station, and they have fifty or so marines on each starship, again, without armor. Not even the President’s Guard is armored.”
“Good. Keep checking in case they’ve managed to hide their equipment,” Steg said.
“Yes, sir, we plan to.” The sergeant looked back at the display and continued her presentation and highlighted other locations. “We’ve found similar, although smaller, installations for two other leaders who are secondary to Ser Bedwyr, as far as we can determine. About half the number of guards. They both have J-trees under cultivation with processing plants and residential buildings. Finally, we’ve located a quasi-military installation with about five hundred trainees. It’s in a remote region in the mountains, along here.” She indicated a visible mountain range. “This camp is about a thousand klicks from the capital. No heavy weapons, no missiles, no major transport available to move them out, and no fuel supplies of any significance—at least, as far as we can determine.”
“What degree of support do these people have from the locals?” Steg asked.
“Very poor. They rule their local fiefdoms with fear. They buy their support.”
“Any politicians involved with the rebels?”
“Yes, sir. About ten of the elected representatives, out of a hundred, that we could prove in court. Bought and paid for. We’ve been tracking cash transfers.”
“Well done, again. What about the President’s Office? Anyone there owned by the terrorists?”
“We commenced checking them this morning. We’ll resume our search when we finish this meeting.”
Steg was silent for a minute as he reflected on the details. He said, “Some more questions for you. Are there any s-t communication devices on the planet, military or private—and if so, are they used or accessible by the rebels? Are there any indications the Xesset are present—perhaps a shuttle housed at one of the rebel locations?”
“Sir, you ask good questions. We’ll add them to our research activities and let you know when we find answers.”
Tessa raised her hand to catch Sergeant Velez’s attention.
“Yes, Tessa?”
“What about here, on the station—if there’s a conduit to move Joy off-planet, wouldn’t there also be a rebel base, to provide protection?”
“Of course. Another item to add to our outstanding research.”
“I have a question,” Steg said.
Ester gave him a doubtful look. “Yes?”
“Think of this as a suggestion. Joy addiction provides an effective lever for control. If the rebels are more devious than we’re giving them credit for—maybe they have a frigate or even two—under their control. Can you investigate that possibility?”
“Yes, sir. We can check bar gossip as a start. We can find out where the officers drink, and make some friends. It sounds like a Fain task?” She looked at Tessa.
“Um—sure, we could do that. Three of us should be enough, I think.”
“Excellent.” She turned back to Steg. “Sir, do you have any more questions?”
Steg said, “No, Sergeant. Not right now.”
“Captain Dean?”
“No, Sergeant.” The captain shook his head.
Ester looked at her team. “We’d better resume our research, then. Meeting’s over.”
Steg said, “Sergeant, thank you and your team. Impressive work. Please send briefing notes to me, the captain, and Commander Gillespie. Include Sergeant Riddell. Dean, we have enough material to commence planning our action against these rebels. Sergeant, if you discover anything more, please let us know as soon as you can. If I hear anything, I’ll keep you informed.” He turned, and in a lower voice said to Dean, “I need five minutes. Just you.”
The captain nodded his acquiescence.
When the team exited, Steg double-checked no one could hear him, and reassured, he said, “Gillespie going to make a ship-wide broadcast in a few minutes. Monty and his wives were frekin’ cannibals. They ate most of the sergeant who went missing a couple of years ago—Sergeant Teoq. You were part of the Stingers, then?”
Dean, speechless for once, nodded his head.
###
Later, early evening ship time, Steg and Dean met with Commander Gillespie; Sergeant Velez and Tessa were also in attendance. The captain presented details from the Intel team’s reports and outlined the preliminary tactics, which he and Steg had agreed earlier.
“The Intelligence team counted twenty-five personal guards and another thirty at the Joy plant. If they’re correct, we’d have control of both in less than thirty minutes. If the intelligence is flawed—for example, if there are more or they have exo-armored guards—it could take perhaps half a day for us to take control. In the first scenario, no losses on either side unless someone does something stupid, and in the second one, losses would depend on the expertise of the opposition,” Dean said. He was relying on survival instincts of a poorly equipped security force when faced with exo-armored mercenaries for his timings. “Our experience in these situations is the weaker force—when disadvantaged to this degree—will quickly surrender.”
“What about the other locations?” asked Commander Gillespie.
“About half the number of guards at each of two other locations—we’ve marked them as locations B and C. We’re using the same elapsed times: thirty minutes to take control, unless they have exo-armor. The training camp—that’s a different story—there’s about five hundred rebels undergoing various levels of training. We’d have to come in heavy-handed. The result could be more casualties on their side.”
“So we’ll expect far more casualties at the training camp,” confirmed Steg. “Rebels, not ours. I don’t think we can make estimates of degree and number. If they’re fanatics, they and their trainers might think they can overwhelm us. Our tentative plan is first we take out the three leaders, and second, we use all our forces against the training camp. One shuttle for each of the production sites, and we’ll assemble all four shuttles to take the training camp. We’ll assign two hundred Stingers and leave the remainder on Wasp as a reserve.”
“I agree taking out the leaders makes sense. Unless they are figureheads? What if there is someone else pulling strings, who you haven’t identified?”
Sergeant Velez frowned. “Commander, you’re as bad as Captain de Coeur. He keeps asking questions, too.”
“Do you have answers?”
“Not yet, ma’am. We will, by end of the day, my team has promised. Well, except for the question about the frigates.”
“Frigates?” The commander frowned at Steg. “Why are you concerned about the frigates? You mean those docked on the station?”
“Tessa wondered if there was a rebel base, here, on the way station. She thought if it is being used for shipping out Joy, the rebels would have a number of guards on station to protect their product. I added a thought about the Eos frigates docked here. If they’re controlled by the rebels, we might have a naval force to deal with.”
“I see what you mean.” Commander Gillespie steepled her fingers. “I see why the colonel relied on Monty to do all his intelligence gathering. So, Sergeant, what are your conclusions?”
“We’ve identified twenty or so rebels—guards for the Joy shipments, rather—on station. We don’t yet know about the frigates,” said Sergeant Ester.
“I may be able to immobilize those.” Steg raised his hand. “No, I won’t disclose how.”
“I suspect possible system failures,” Gillespie suggested.
Steg shook his head.
“Not another word.”
“Do I need to continue researching the frigates? If you can take them out of the picture, won’t my efforts be a waste?” Tessa’s voice had a slightly querulous tone.
Dean explained to the commander. “Given the amount of Joy moving around, it would be easy for the rebels to tempt one or two, perhaps officers, and then, given rapid addiction reaction to Joy, they’d be willing to do anything for continued access to the drug. We tasked Tessa with investigating whether the frigate crew or officers are under the control of the rebels.”
“Tess, yes, I think we need some counter-intelligence. If we identify who has been suborned, we can back-trace to find links to the rebels,” Steg said. Gillespie indicated her agreement.
“Hmm. Okay, I’ll take Sara and Tacia with me, and we’ll explore some of the bars. Tacia can bring her scalpel. We’ll claim expenses, too.”
Steg adopted a serious expression and asked, “Can we afford their level of expense?”
“Probably not. It will depend on the results,” Dean said.
“Take no risks, though, Tessa. It’s research, not action,” cautioned Steg. “Dean, arrange for three or four of the Stingers to be in hailing distance, in case our Fain team runs into trouble.”
“I understand. We’ll be careful,” assured Tessa.
“Riddell, you and I can discuss suitable backup, after this meeting,” Dean added.
“Yes, sir.”
“Commander, I want to discuss Wasp’s contribution. I plan to use four of the shuttles. We’ll time our drops so each shuttle is at its target at daybreak. If it’s acceptable to you, I’d prefer Wasp to be at least two hundred thousand klicks away from this station when we launch—we can hide our intentions that way. We’ll leave this station a day prior; perhaps our departure will help confuse anyone who has suspicions about us.”
“Agreed, both to using the shuttles and departing the station the day before you launch your attacks.”
“Good. Dean, we need one shuttle loaded for each of the primary locations. The fourth shuttle is to take up position at the training camp and prevent any major movement of rebels out of that area. As soon as we arrest the leaders, we’ll meet up with the fourth shuttle. Ideally the rebels and their trainers will realize their defeat is inevitable. I’d prefer them to surrender rather than fight. We might need to display some power first.”
Fracture Lines (The Glass Complex Book 2) Page 22
