Clidepp Deja Vu

by Thomas DePrima

  *

  After hours spent interviewing former slaves, a long list of possible targets had been developed. Then the targets were put in order according to the remoteness of the location and likelihood of law enforcement arriving during the raid. Finally, the targets were prioritized by estimated size of the slave population at the target location.

  "We have our first target and topographical images of the area from the embassy's database," Blade announced. "Now all we have to do is plan our approaches on the terrain maps to create the final plan for our first attack. We've gleaned every last bit of information we could from the women who have knowledge of this location. We know where the slaves are housed and how many guards are normally on duty at night. Naturally, there are a few things they're unable to tell us, such as where the guards reside when off-duty, how often the guards make their rounds, etc. But we're going to hit them fast, hit them hard, get the slaves, and bug out.

  "We'll shove off at 2300 local time. That will put us over the first target at 2318. Literally. We'll land on the roof of the factory and follow the same highly successful plan established by Captain Marcola for the attack on the slave pens in the capital. Our goal is to get as many of the slaves out as possible. Remember that they'll be scared to death, so display your alternate Terran face on your helmet mask once we reach the factory. Remember to set your armor's translator to Yolongi. I've had some flyers printed up for us to drop at the site, and don't forget to spray-paint the TFC letters on the walls. Each team must do that at least five times. We want that to become the most feared thing a slave owner can imagine. Almost as important as freeing the slaves is our effort to convince the Triumvirate that the group behind all of the attacks, including those on the capital, is a new Yolongus insurgent movement. And remember to use the Yolongi translation and letters. One slipup with Amer could destroy the entire effort. We'll load up the shuttles with as many slaves as we can and return here. Based on the interviews, the number of slaves at each location will not exceed our ability to transport them in one trip.

  "The individual assignments for each team are here in my viewpad. After we're done, you can download them to your viewpad. Okay, any ideas that will improve the plan I've laid out? Don't be afraid to speak up. I want to hear your ideas."

  "Sir," Lt.(jg) Weems said, "is there sufficient room for all four shuttles on the factory roof and can it support the combined weight?"

  "Good question, Lieutenant. I admit I don't know. How did you check that information when we attacked the Qummuc facilities in the capital?"

  "The Qummuc facilities had symbols painted on the roof showing that oh-gee vehicles could land there and the weight restrictions. I see nothing on the images here."

  "That might mean the roofs can't support the weight of even one shuttle," Caruthers said.

  "I'm glad you noticed that, Lieutenant. Do you have a suggestion for how we can determine if it's safe to land there?"

  "No, sir, but I suggest that instead of the plan calling for us to land, we simply hover a meter or so above the roof. You can then rappel down. It will make it a little more difficult for the slaves to climb in, but it will be far safer because the roof will already have the weight of over a hundred slaves. In fact, perhaps we should only allow the slaves out on the roof when the MATs are ready to load, and then only allow enough out on the roof as can be accommodated by one shuttle until most of them are aboard. I'm not suggesting that we only load one shuttle at a time but that we limit the number of people actually on the roof at one time to about forty. We can't know how safe that roof is. We're not talking about a government building with regular maintenance and inspections. Who knows how good their maintenance program is there."

  "Then that's what we'll do. All pilots will hover slightly above the roof. Can we reduce the distance to say— twenty centimeters or so?"

  "We'll do our best, sir," Weems said. "As the load changes with people climbing aboard, we'll have to stay right on top of it. But while I can't promise a precise distance, we should be able to keep almost all of the MAT's weight off the roof while holding the ship steady for loading."

  "Good. Let's plan on that then. Any other questions, suggestions, or comments?"

  "Sir," Lt. MacDonald said, "May I suggest that you share the code used to open the shuttle bay cover? If something were to happen to you, the rest of the team would be prevented from uncovering the bay so the shuttles could enter."

  "As every military person knows, the CT implanted in every officer candidate when they enter one of the academies, and the ID chip implanted in every enlisted man and woman when they are inducted into the service, identifies them to the computer system aboard every ship and at every military installation and facility. When the system recognizes that identification, it allows them to access the areas they're authorized to enter. To use the special code I have for embassy access, I contact the embassy's computer system via my CT. Once both the code and my CT are recognized as valid by the embassy computer system, I can enter any part of the embassy not specifically forbidden to myself and other Marine officers who share the code. So you see, I can't simply share the code because it wouldn't work for anyone else unless that individual has already been granted access privileges by virtue of their status in the military.

  "But I understand and appreciate your concerns. I believe I might be able to set up a temporary code that every officer and noncom can use to control the cover over the B1 level at this facility. I'll do that immediately after we finish here. Anything else? Anybody? No? Okay, then come download the plan for your team from my viewpad."

  * * *

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  ~ May 3rd, 2287 ~

  At exactly 2300 the two-meter-thick cover over the shuttle bay at the embassy rolled back to allow egress from the underground area. All lights had been turned off so there was no illumination to betray the activity. Since oh-gee engines were whisper quiet, there was nothing louder than the sound made by a light breeze to betray the activity as four black MAT-14 shuttles climbed swiftly into the dark night sky.

  *

  The four shuttles arrived over the factory building at 2318. Shuttles One and Two descended to just a meter above the roof, and the attack teams slid down short rope lines to the surface. All TFC insurgents were in the two shuttles to reduce assembly time on the roof. Shuttles Three and Four remained above and off to the side because their function on this evening was limited to the transportation of freed slaves. The MAT-14s were designed to accommodate up to forty Marines in full armor with their weapons, plus two pilots on the flight deck. But they had already proven that when the seats were folded against the walls, the main cabin could be used to accommodate up to sixty-six standing passengers, plus two in the head, and two in the rear airlock.

  "The roof door is locked," Blade heard over Com 1, the general communications frequency. "Nothing fancy, just a simple lock. Blow it or burn it, sir?"

  "Burn it," Blade said. "Let's keep the noise to a minimum until our presence is known."

  Several Marines huddled around the door to hide the light flashes as much as possible. As far as they knew, no alarm had yet been sounded, and Blade naturally wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible. The act itself was almost noiseless as a laser rifle was pointed at the lock assembly and fired several times. When the lock fell apart, one of the Marines reached out and pulled the door open.

  Within a minute, all of the Marines had poured through the doorway and begun descending the stairs to their designated floor assignment.

  Once all Marine groups reported they were in place, Blade said "Go." The teams then opened the door on that floor and spread through the factory floor looking for guards or employees.

  Most of the factory was empty, but there were a few guards sitting or standing around, plus a handful of maintenance people working on equipment. Blade wanted to avoid harming civilians while limiting violence to the overseers and the owners, but stealth was critical, so the Marines dispatched
everyone they found in order to prevent there being any witnesses.

  The operation moved at an incredible speed. The factory was not prepared for an invasion by trained troops. For that matter, it probably wouldn't have presented much of a problem for raw recruits. Within five minutes, the Marines were at the basement entrance to the slave quarters and had eliminated the two overseers there.

  "Terran identity faces," Blade said and everyone changed the image on their faceplate to show the animated Terran face developed for each Marine. In some cases the image didn't look even remotely like the actual visage of the Marine, but it appeared real and moved just as a real face would when the helmet wearer spoke. The intent was to ensure identification of the Marine by witnesses was impossible once they removed their helmet.

  The basement slave quarters were like a large barracks. There were no interior walls— just rows and rows of beds. When the door had been unlocked and opened, the Marines saw that most of the slaves were asleep. Since they had made every effort to be stealthy, that was understandable.

  When the lights were turned on, the women began to stir. The Marines then moved through the dormitory shouting in Yolongi, "Terran Freedom Coalition. We're here to set you free and take you away from here. Get up and get dressed. Quickly."

  The dormitory was suddenly a mass of confusion as some of the women began screaming while others began shouting and a few began weeping out of fear.

  The Marines changed tactics at that point. Instead of trying to appear as saviors, as they had with the women who had reached Sanctuary and were waiting for someone to come get them, they started barking orders as they'd had to do at the slave pens. "Get up and get dressed. Now."

  The women, used to following barked orders immediately to avoid the lash of an overseer, quieted down and began dressing quickly.

  "Pick up anything you wish to take with you," the Marines barked. "You will not be returning here ever again. Take your blankets and other bedding."

  The women began stuffing their pillowcases with their few personal items and wrapping up their blankets.

  When the women were about ready, Blade said, "Follow the Marines out the door and up the stairs." He then turned off his external speaker and said on Com 1, "Don't forget to drop the leaflets and spray-paint TFC on the walls at every floor in the stairwell using Yolongi letters."

  As the Marines leading the women emerged on the roof, the shuttles dropped down as close as possible without actually placing any significant weight on it. The number of slaves at this factory had been estimated at one hundred thirty-five, so the seats hadn't been folded.

  When the first two shuttles had each taken forty women and two Marines on board, they pulled up so the other two shuttles could move in. Those shuttles were able to take the remainder of the women and the Marines. There weren't enough seats to accommodate everyone, so many of the Marines stood on the eighteen-minute trip back to the embassy. As the shuttles pulled away from the factory, Blade triggered explosive charges planted to destroy the video systems, computers, and all records. The Marines who had planted the explosives had downloaded the terabytes of information the computer contained before preparing the detonation trigger. The information might help as the GA worked to build a database of slavery on Yolongus.

  *

  Upon reaching the embassy, the four shuttles settled quietly into the bay. Once they were down on the B1 deck, the tennis court cover was closed so lighting could be restored in the bay.

  After the pilots had carefully glided their ships to their proper parking locations in the large bay, they shut down the engines and turned off the systems. They then notified the Marines that the hatches could be opened. As soon as the rear cabin was open and the ramps extended, the Marines stepped out of the shuttles.

  As the last of the Marines left the shuttles, Blade realized that the slaves were still seated inside. He climbed the ramp of one shuttle and peered inside, then entered the small ship. None of the newly freed slaves were moving or talking. They were just sitting upright, staring at Blade. He realized they had been so conditioned to slavery that they were waiting for someone to give them orders before moving.

  Using Com 1, Blade notified the one fire team he had left with the slaves in the embassy that they could now allow the previously freed women to enter the shuttle bay. Within seconds, the former slaves were pouring into the bay and rushing to the shuttles. They stopped short when they saw the Terran wreckage and recognized it for what it was. Most of them had been there before being freed themselves.

  "Ladies," Blade said to the women in the shuttle, using the translator and speaker in his armor to speak to them in Yolongi, "you are now on GA property. You are on GA property, you are not GA property. You are free. I want to welcome you to the underground bunker at the Galactic Alliance embassy on Yolongus where you'll wait until we can transport you to Galactic Alliance space. I'd like you to leave this shuttle in an orderly fashion and join your sisters. They were freed not too long ago and can help you adjust in what I'm sure is a tremendously traumatic time."

  When none moved, Blade left the shuttle and gestured to the women waiting at the bottom of the ramp. "See what you can do for them, ladies."

  Blade then went to each of the other shuttles and said the same thing to the just-freed slaves, after which he invited the women from the embassy to help them.

  As the newly freed slaves were led out of the shuttles, fear was written all over their faces, and many were physically shaking. Perhaps they hadn't fully grasped the true situation. Perhaps they believed it was a dream from which they would awaken. Blade hadn't noticed earlier, but all were marked with scars, bruises and welts. Slavery was the only life most had ever known, and changes were taking place too quickly. Blade could only silently curse the overseers who had physically beaten the women and beaten them down mentally as well. He suddenly felt anger towards himself because he had let the overseers die too quickly. He should have made them suffer as had their victims. Unfortunately, there hadn't been time. But he knew he would never feel any sadness at killing another overseer on this miserable planet or, for that matter, anyone involved in Terran slavery anywhere.

  * * *

  "Where did you get this?" Gustallo Plelillo demanded of his Intelligence Minister.

  "They were all over the factory," Danttan said. "They're asking the people of Yolongus to support them and their cause. The attackers also painted their initials on the walls."

  "Their initials?" Mewaffal said. "Then we should be able to find them easily."

  "Not the initials of their own names. The initials of the group name."

  "Where are the slaves now?" Plelillo asked.

  "We don't know."

  "This could be a Rebel plot," Mewaffal said. "They might be trying to divide our forces so half are hunting for an imaginary group."

  "This attack was not imaginary," Danttan said. "They took all of the slaves and severely damaged the factory with the fire they set to destroy the computers and video records."

  "Were any video records salvageable?" Plelillo asked. "Do we have any usable images?"

  "None."

  Plelillo looked at the sheet of paper and read it again. "Who is this TFC?"

  "I've never heard of them," Danttan said. "Nobody in my department has ever heard of the Terran Freedom Coalition."

  "And yet they're claiming credit for this attack and the two in the capital, which they say was only done to raid the prisons and slave pens. They want the citizenry to forgive them for destroying the power systems and communications towers."

  "Yes."

  "But no slaves were freed in the second attack," Plelillo said.

  "No, something must have gone wrong. Perhaps the com tower destruction messed up their own chain of command communications as well. That gives credence to the idea that the group doesn't have military training and are really just a bunch of amateurs."

  "They seem remarkably disciplined and effective for amateurs. Could this be the w
ork of the AR?" Plelillo asked.

  "The Aleoxlene Reqoppl has never advocated violence," Danttan said. "Their goal is only to help escaping slaves reach freedom. That's why catching them has never been a top priority."

  "Perhaps this is a group that has splintered off from the AR because the AR wasn't doing enough to eliminate slavery as quickly as this TFC desires. As for the AR, we make a lot of money when we recapture a slave because we then charge the slave owner a healthy recovery fee if he wants them back. That's the real reason why eliminating the AR hasn't been a high priority. If not for them, there'd be far fewer escaped slaves. They put money in our pockets."

  "I don't know if the people behind these raids are former AR members or not. All I know is that the slave owners are getting riled up. In addition to the slaves they've lost, factories are now being burned down."

  "And their overseers are being killed," Mewaffal said.

  "The owners don't give a damn about their overseers," Danttan said. "They'll just hire new ones. It's the destruction of their factories and the loss of their slaves that's costing them money and making them angry."

  "How many slaves were taken in this latest attack?" Plelillo asked.

  "One hundred twenty-three."

  "One hundred twenty-three," Plelillo repeated as he rubbed his hands together. "We'll make a nice fee when we find them."

  "If we find them."

  "Of course we'll find them. One hundred twenty-three slaves can't just disappear."

  "This TFC must be well organized because we haven't been able to find a single lead."

  "A lot of the people sympathize with the AR," Mewaffal said. "They probably wouldn't tell us anything even if they knew."

  "They'll tell us with the right persuasion," Plelillo said.

  "Money?" Mewaffal asked.

  "That's one way. But we know a better way. Pain."

  * * *