Jenetta was saved from further interrogation when the com unit buzzed. She leaned over to the coffee table and lifted the cover, which illuminated to show a head and shoulders image of Captain Wavala.
"Yes, Captain?" Jenetta said.
"Admiral, we have the final incoming traffic regarding Operation Clean Sweep. I thought that you might wish to view the reports immediately."
"Quite right, Captain. I'll come down to the CIC immediately. Carver, out."
Jenetta pushed the top down on the com unit and stood up. "I'll be back as soon as I can."
"Operation Clean Sweep?" Eliza said. "What's that?"
"That's something that I can tell you about, but I don't have time right this minute. If you're still here when I get back I'll tell you all about it."
"I'll be here," Christa said.
"So will I," Eliza said.
"See you in awhile then," Jenetta said, turning and walking quickly to the door. As the door closed behind her, her two sisters exchanged glances and began speculating about the purpose of Operation Clean Sweep.
Jenetta found Christa and Eliza still waiting for her when she returned to her quarters some three hours later. "Still here?" she asked, smiling.
"You knew we would be," Christa said lightly. "Now tell us all about Operation Clean Sweep."
Jenetta sat down on the sofa and stretched. "This past June we conducted an operation to find and destroy a number of Milori ships that were operating in Galactic Alliance space. We successfully located fifteen and destroyed fourteen of them. One managed to escape, but we're sure we damaged it so badly it no longer represents a threat to us. It was damaged beyond self-repair and must still be headed back to the Milori Empire."
"We know all about that," Eliza said. "Everyone does."
"Yes, but what only a few people knew is that there were more Milori ships. The ship that managed to escape our net alerted the other ships and we believe they took off for alternate places of concealment operating on the belief that their original hiding places had been compromised. Our spotter network identified and tracked eleven of them. We knew they'd be extra vigilant for any sign of SC ships so we backed off and let them calm down for a few months. Then last month I ordered thirty-seven warships that were on patrol routes close to the projected locations of the remaining Milori ships to move to positions from which we'd launch Operation Clean Sweep. I gave the order to commence the operation five days ago, and for the past several days I've been monitoring reports from our ships that participated. The last task group to report in is the one furthest away and we just received their report tonight. We outnumbered the Milori ships by three or four to one at each location and I'm happy to say that all eleven Milori ships have been destroyed while our forces only suffered minimal ship damage and the loss of just sixteen crewmembers from a torpedo that got through."
"Wow," Eliza said.
"Twenty-six fully staffed ships lost to the Milori," Christa said, shaking her head. "For what, a few thousand parsecs of space in a universe that's vast beyond comprehension. It's so senseless."
"Christa, you know it's not just the parsecs of space;" Jenetta said, "it's the freedom to live our lives in the manner we wish. The Milori Empire enslaves worlds and dictates how everyone should live or die according to the whims of one tyrannical ruler."
"What makes his crews fight so hard?" Eliza pondered. "What makes them so loyal?"
"You know why; it's all they've ever known. From the day they're born, they're indoctrinated with the goal of sacrificing everything, including their lives, for the glory of their ruler. We're more selfish. We feel that each individual has the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. We band together to protect our rights, while they band together to serve an emperor who's only goal is more supreme power over more subjects."
"Well, there're a several thousand fewer cogs in the emperor's machine now," Christa said.
"I'd say about eleven thousand fewer cogs, according to the reports," Jenetta said. "Hey, what happened to my ice cream?"
Christa and I shared it, rather than letting it go to waste," Eliza said, getting up. "I'll get you another bowl."
* * *
After two more weeks of watching and listening in Weislik without success, the Space Command agents loaded up the Scorpion's two shuttles and set out to visit every mining town on the planet. As Byers had said, it could take months, possibly years, but that was the nature of this work. The two teams headed to different colonies, but would remain in communication daily. Each would always know the location of the other. In the event that one failed to check in, the other team would immediately travel to the last reported position of the missing team. Vyx and Byers would handle the southern hemisphere of the planet while Nelligen, Brenda, and Kathryn would take the other.
* * *
"I'm afraid the report's accurate, my Lord," Exalted Lord Space Marshall Berquyth said. "We're unable to contact eleven of the remaining ships in Galactic Alliance space.
Emperor Maxxiloth smashed a gripper claw down onto the desk. "How, Berquyth, how? How have they been locating our ships?"
"We don't know, my Lord. We thought we had stopped our leaks when we found the spy. It's unfortunate that he was able to take his own life before we had a chance to question him and learn to whom he reported."
"But only a few senior officers knew the locations of those ships, and I'm sure none of them is a traitor. It has to be one of the clerks on their staffs."
"Not necessarily, my Lord."
"What do you mean? Who else knew?"
"The Raiders, my Lord. They advised us on both the original placement of the ships and the alternate locations so that we might avoid Space Command notice. They knew where every ship was located."
"Yes, you're right. Advise the four remaining ships to move to new locations not known to the Raiders. Is everything else proceeding according to the established timetable?"
"Yes, my Lord, all is on schedule. But without our hidden ships we won't be able to attack most of the targets planned for the diversionary operations."
"Don't worry, Berquyth. I have a special target in mind for the diversion."
* * *
Some eleven weeks later, Vyx and Byers entered yet another small mining town in the planet's southern hemisphere, if you could call the motley collection of buildings a town. Situated on a flat plateau over a hundred kilometers from its nearest neighbor, the community of NeTrediar was spectacularly nondescript. Almost completely devoid of vegetation, the hot, arid region was as inhospitable as any area the agents had ever visited. Most of the structures, pitted from years of sandstorms and bleached from the unrelenting intensity of the sun, belonged to the mining company, but there were privately owned buildings as well. Numerous bars catered to a population with heavy thirsts, half a dozen restaurants offered better food than the mining company did, and there were a few hotels where modest rooms with clean sheets could be rented by the hour.
The mine was located on the west side of town and, although not unheard of, it was a bit unusual to see the entire area fenced and heavily guarded considering it was in such a remote area. Refused landing permission at the mine's spaceport, Vyx had set the small shuttle down in an open area on the east side of town. He and Byers had let their beards grow out in recent weeks. While wearing the same type of coveralls preferred by the miners, they managed to exude the same scruffy look displayed by most tavern denizens as they relaxed and sipped ale in one of the many bars. When the first shift ended, the tavern filled quickly. Miners in filthy coveralls lined the bar and occupied every other available seat.
The agents sat listening to the boisterous conversations going on all around them as the miners unwound after an arduous shift, but they learned little of importance as conversations centered mostly on sports, difficult mining tasks, and a plethora of personal problems.
As the crowd began to thin around dinnertime, Vyx and Byers finished their drinks and stood to leave, their plan be
ing to check the fare at one of the restaurants. A bewhiskered miner stepped directly in front of Vyx, looked him in the eye, and exclaimed, "I'll be damned. How are you, Vyx?"
Vyx looked at a dirt encrusted face covered with a month's worth of beard and replied, "Meader?"
"Damn right," he said, smiling as he extended a hand caked with dirt and grease. "How have you been? It's been a while since we met up on Bajurrsko. Looking for work?"
Vyx shook the proffered hand. "Buy you an ale?"
"I never refuse to have an ale with an old friend. Let's sit."
Byers and Vyx sat back down in their chairs while Meader motioned to the waitress for three ales. Grabbing a vacant chair from another table, he sat down with the two agents.
"You looking for a job?" Meader asked again.
"No, information."
"About Milori? I can't help you this time. I haven't seen any of those ugly cusses since Bajurrsko."
Vyx looked at him and spun the cover story that the five agents had concocted to mask their true assignment before splitting up to head in different directions. "No, this time we're on the trail of a Povarian Orb."
"Povarian Orb? I've heard of them, but never seen one. Is it true they have magical healing powers?"
Vyx shrugged. "Don't know. All I know is I have a buyer looking to recover one and I've followed the trail to Scruscotto. It was sold to a miner headed this way by a gambler who was down on his luck and desperate for a stake."
"What's his name?"
"I don't know. The gambler couldn't remember because he was pretty well soused when he sold the Orb."
"Good luck then. There must be a hundred thousand miners on this planet."
"At least. We've been searching for weeks without a lead. But someone has to know something, and we'll find them. If you pick up any information, I'll pay you a hundred credits when I verify it. If we locate the Orb using your info, I'll cut you in on the deal."
"Really? How much?"
"Oh, say ten percent of a hundred thousand credits if you actually find the owner of the Orb."
Meader's eyes glazed over for a few seconds. "Ten thousand credits? It'd almost be worth quitting this job and joining the search."
"Don't be too hasty. We've been looking for months without getting a single lead. We must have visited a hundred mining towns already."
"Yeah, you're right. It's tempting, but I'd better stay where I am. At least I have a steady paycheck and the money is good— real good."
"What are you mining here?"
"Palladium and platinum ores."
"Ah, I knew it must be something valuable, considering the heavy security."
"You can't see a tenth of it. Anyone trying to get onto mine property without authorization is going to disappear faster than a fart in a windstorm. Even the miners are restricted to where they can go on the company's grounds. I haven't been in the spaceport section since the day I arrived, and I'm only allowed in shafts one and four. Do you know they even have Phased Array Lasers hidden in four buildings here in town? And I'm talking about major arrays, like you'd find on a Space Command battleship or used for planetary defense. They could probably knock down anything in orbit around the planet."
"Inside buildings? What good is that?"
"The buildings are just false fronts to disguise the weapons. If anyone was to attack, the company can roll back the roofs and raise the arrays so they can fire at ships overhead from each corner of the town. I can tell you no one is going try robbing this mine and live to talk about it."
"I guess not."
Meader hoisted his glass and drained it. "Well, that's enough for me, my friends. I have a date later with a cute little waitress from Marie's so I have to get cleaned up. Maybe I'll see you fellas around town tonight. I'll ask around about the Orb and see if I can come up with anything. Later, guys."
"Later," Vyx and Byers mumbled. Both were deep in thought about the unusual defensive measures employed by the mine operators. While true that the mine was a little remote and the planet wasn't exactly a model of law and order, laser arrays suitable for a battleship fell well outside the norm for protection, unless you really did want to destroy something that was in orbit. Significantly smaller arrays would be more maneuverable and still be more than adequate to repel any attack from sub-orbital craft.
Meader had risen, but before he moved away from the table Vyx asked quickly, "What's the best restaurant in town?"
"Depends on what you're looking for. The best chow can be found at Buster's Place just down the street, but if you're looking for a restaurant with a view, head over to Marie's. She has the best-looking waitresses this side of Weislik. The food's not very good, but that's hardly noticeable while you're enjoying the eye candy."
Meader turned and walked away, headed towards the tavern exit.
"Think this is it?" Byers asked quietly.
"Maybe," Vyx responded. "Let's be extra sharp from now on." Raising his voice slightly, he said, "Buster's?"
Byers nodded and said, "Buster's."
The place wasn't much to look at and the waitresses might never be able to land a job at Marie's, but the food at Buster's was excellent and plentiful. After paying their bill, Vyx and Byers left the restaurant and walked to a tavern a block away.
It was almost a carbon copy of the place where they'd been drinking earlier and the same filth-covered miners sat at tables or stood around drinking their dinners. They weren't the same people of course, but while covered in dirt and wearing the same kind of dirty coveralls, it was difficult to distinguish differences. Not all patrons were covered from head to toe in dirt. A few, dressed like miners, were fairly clean. Vyx assumed they were part of the third shift, fortifying themselves in advance for hours underground without benefit of inebriating liquids.
They remained in the bar for only a couple of hours before deciding to move on. The conversations they'd overheard hadn't revealed anything they hadn't already known. They needed to find out where the security types and middle management types relaxed because that group would be more likely to discuss topics of interest to the two agents.
As they stepped out the front door, they almost bumped into three men striding down the sidewalk as if they owned it. Jumping back quickly to avoid a collision, they watched as the three men continued on, hardly taking notice of the scruffy looking pair that had almost blocked their path.
Vyx followed their travel with his eyes but didn't say anything until the trio was out of hearing range.
"Did you see him?"
Byers nodded. "You think it was really him?"
"Pretty sure. He looked like the pictures I've seen, and fit the physical description. Too bad they weren't talking. I would have liked to hear his voice. Let's follow them and see if we can get within hearing range."
The two agents turned in the direction of the trio and slowly closed the distance between them to less than two meters. Following the three men closely, but not so close that it became apparent they were following them, Vyx and Byers were disappointed to never hear a word uttered amongst the trio. The agents stepped into the doorway of the last tavern on the street and watched as the three men continued on towards the mine property.
"It was him," Vyx said. "I'm almost positive even if I didn't get a chance to hear his voice."
"What now?" Byers asked. "Do we hang around and watch?"
"Let's head back to the shuttle and alert the others so they can join us here. Then we'll try to find a way to get inside the grounds."
"You're kidding."
"No, we have to verify that this is his base and not just a visit to a mining operation."
* * *
Chapter Thirteen
~ February 18th, 2280 ~
The crew chief assigned Vyx to the third shift, as was standard policy with new hires. Because of the strict exercise regime he followed, months of virtual inactivity in space hadn't left him soft, so as he stood in line to enter the mining compound he appeared to be exactly wha
t he professed to be— a deep-shaft miner. He mused to himself that he had once been destined to become a miner in a slave colony after being betrayed by an arms dealer, and here he was voluntarily choosing to descend into the bowels of the planet and toil in a dirty, menial job that prized brawn over brain. At least here he would be free each day after completing his shift.
Holding up his new ID for the guard to check, he passed through the security gate and followed the other miners to the shaft entrance. The foreman pulled Vyx aside and told him to wait with him until the shift was ready to descend, while the other miners, mostly men, separated into their normal work groups. As the first group entered the car, the foreman brought Vyx to a group with a missing man and introduced him to the group leader. The group waited their turn and then climbed into the car for the half-kilometer descent.
Although machines and bots performed all the actual digging and tunneling, the miners had to constantly monitor their performance and occasionally struggle to free drilling equipment that had become stuck or jammed. The group leader took Vyx to a previously opened ore vein and showed him what to look for and how to operate the machinery. He watched as Vyx started work, then left after being satisfied he was sufficiently proficient to handle it alone. Vyx didn't mind the dust, dirt, dark, din, and danger half as much as the full-face respirator mask he had to wear. Although absolutely necessary, he hated the tight fit and discomfort. His beard made it that much more uncomfortable because he needed a reasonably tight seal. He considered shaving it right after his shift ended, then changed his mind because it was a necessary part of his disguise.
After three days, Vyx knew the routine in the mine and his co-workers had accepted him into their fraternity. All miners lived in a large dormitory on the plant grounds, with each miner allocated two and a half cubic meters of space. The cubicles, a little larger than a coffin at two and a half meters long by one meter wide by one meter high, were stacked five high and radiated out on either side of long corridors on several floors in the dorm. Once inside his or her soundproofed cubicle, a miner could sleep undisturbed in air conditioned, noiseless comfort at any time of the day or night. The closeness of the walls in the sleeping cubicles didn't bother people used to working underground. Vyx had opted to reside in the company-provided housing to infuse himself further into the mining society instead of staying aboard his shuttle. He joined his mining co-workers for several hours of drinking after the shift ended each day before returning to his cubicle to get some sleep.
Castle Vroman Page 18
