by Trevor Wyatt
Just like the Tyreesian way.
“So, get ready folks,” the team leader says at the end of our final planning session. “We are going to arrive in about an hour. It’s going to be the early afternoon. People will be alert, so we have to be hyper alert.”
“Roger that,” I say amidst other similar replies.
I return to the cockpit with Zhang. We don’t talk to each other, even though we are alone. Thirty minutes later, the team leader comes into the cockpit and takes his seat in the copilot’s chair.
I am lost in my thoughts in the silence of the cockpit. I think about the mission and what I must do. I don’t like killing innocent people. More so, I hate killing Armada operatives. The guys I killed on Patreus III were just security guards, who were working for Star Tech.
But now, it’s different. Now I’m going up against an Armada base. These guys are officers of the Armada. They are my comrades in arms.
For a moment, I struggle with myself.
“We are coming out of FTL space,” Zhang says. “Now.”
On the view screen, we sort of appear in a star system, with a small planet ahead of us. There are about seven star ships orbiting the planet at different angles. There is a small ring—the spaceport, I realize, that maintains a very wide angle around the planet. In fact, I suspect that the angle is so wide that the ring isn’t affected by the gravity and has to use its thrusters to orbit.
Zhang maintains his bearing, which brings us into orbit in three minutes.
“Unidentified corvette,” says a bold voice in the comms. Zhang has it on speaker so we can hear. “This is Captain Bran of the TUS Twilight. Identify yourself and your purpose on Perseus?”
Zhang clears his throat silently.
“Hi,” he says in a youthful, nonchalant voice, “Hey, so me and my friends are tourists. Our friends back at New Washington suggested this pastoral world as a great tourist destination and we came to give it a look.”
“All eleven of you?” asks the Captain with a hint of incredulity.
“Yes, sir,” Zhang replies with an ebullient zing. “All eleven of us. You know what they say, the more the merrier.”
After a thoughtful pause, he adds, “Say, what’s with all the Armada ships? Is something going on?”
No response.
“Please proceed to the orbiting space port,” the captain says. “Officers of Armada Security from the planet will come and inspect your ship. If your story checks out, then you can go down to the planet. Enjoy your stay. Captain Bran out.”
The line goes dead.
In silence, Zhang guides us to the orbiting space port. The port is a small one and has only six ports, three on both sides. Each ports are connected by a transparent tube that serves as a passageway between ships. One ship docks in one side, while another ship, usually a security pod, docks on the other side and then security officers pass through the tube to your ship to inspect.
It was designed for small vessels, especially when no one is expecting you.
Zhang docks perfectly. Ten minutes later, a security pod from the planet docks in the opposite pod.
“The pod has weapons,” Zhang announces.
“All security pods have weapons,” I reply. “We just have to convince them we aren’t trouble.”
“And how do we do that?” the team leader asks.
There is a sharp hiss as the tube harmonizes our atmosphere with the atmosphere of the pod.
“We take them out,” I say, then tap for Zhang to follow me.
In the den, where the men are on alert with their weapons outstretched, I say, “Remain here. Zhang and I will take care of this.”
Zhang follows me to the hatch. I pull out my blaster and set it to kill.
Zhang gives me a bad eye.
“What?” I whisper.
“Is that really necessary?”
I roll my eyes and set the gun to stun, and hide it behind myself.
The hatch opens up. Four officers step into the corvette, three of which are armed with rifles, while the fourth is carrying a tablet.
“Where are your occupants?” the leader asks.
Zhang motions in the direction of the den.
“Right this way, please.”
He leads, while they follow. I bring up the rear. I shoot the guy in my front, and then the next. They crumple to the ground. Zhang leaps backward into the lead, knocking him out. The remaining soldier is about to take a shot, but I leap onto him and tightly grip his neck. He slowly falls into unconsciousness.
“See?” Zhang says, looking up at me from the four knocked out officers. “We didn’t have to spill blood.”
“The pods are aiming at us!” the team leader asks.
“Must be linked to their vitals,” I say. I run for the hatch.
“I’ll stop it,” I yell for the benefit of everyone.
I run across the tube, fighting the feeling of dizziness that besiege me due to the vastness of space all around me. Inside the security pod, I can see the countdown on the dashboard.
I blink my eyes, calling up my nanites.
“Computer, interface with this pod,” I command.
“Interfaced,” the reply comes in my ears.
“Deactivate targeting sequence,” I say.
“Negative,” replies the computer. “Authorization required.”
“Authorize,” I say, “Commander Anika Grayson.”
“Confirmed,” the computer says. “Targeting sequence deactivated.”
The countdown stops.
I deactivate my nanites and return to the corvette to see that the four officers have been stripped. The team leader, Zhang, and one other guy are dressed as Armada security personnel.
“Ready to go?” Zhang asks me and I nod. The corvette disengages and enters the activation codes for safe clearance. A minute later we’re given coordinates to land.
Zhang hands me the fourth uniform.
“You can’t go down there looking like an assassin,” he says.
I take the uniform and shrug.
Time to play ball.
Chapter 8
No One
Once inside the atmosphere, Zhang makes a beeline for the main space port, where we know the TAIOC has offices. The space port is a triangular structure that has a main shuttle port smack in its center. We land in one of the several terminals.
Zhang, the team leader, the other guy wearing the uniform who's leading the team, and I file out into the launch pad. The others are not dressed like we were when we attacked the StarTech facility earlier. They are dressed like actual tourists and their weapons are well concealed.
The entryway into the terminal opens up and a man strolls in casually. We are all surprised by this that we turn to look at him.
He stops short at first, looking at us in confusion. We look back at him. Then he marches boldly to us.
“Who the fuck are you guys?” he asks.
Zhang begins to say something when a Separatist reaches across the space and stabs the man in his jugular.
Terror appears on his face as he grabs the knife, crumpling to his feet. The blood pools around his body and we all watch as he dies before our eyes. Zhang gives me a troubled look. I subtly shake my head. There’s nothing we could have done about that.
Zhang isn’t satisfied with my nonchalance, which isn’t really nonchalance but wisdom. He says to the Separatist who stabbed the officer, “Why did you do that?”
Everyone looks at him as though he had committed an unpardonable sin.
“What?” the man who stabbed the officer asked, genuinely befuddled. He looks between me and the leader, wondering if he’s done anything wrong.
I say, “Killing him will raise suspicion. You’ve just reduced the number of minutes we have to plant the bomb. Once they realize this guy is dead, they’ll come looking for him. They’ll know he came to check out our vessel. They’ll come here and they’ll see he’s missing. Then they’ll realize that the agents sent with this security po
d to check out our ship…Hey, you see where this is going, right?”
The man now looks forlorn.
“Let’s just hide the body,” Zhang says, “and hope no one comes looking for him.”
Zhang and I drag the body into the security pod.
“We need to put a lid on this as soon as possible,” Zhang whispered to me in anger. “We can’t let these guys indiscriminately kill our people.”
I have just about had it with Zhang’s fussing.
“In case you haven’t noticed, we’re undercover. We have to remain in the act for as long as necessary. Now, I understand about refraining from perpetrating acts of terror ourselves, but you can’t stop them from perpetrating these acts.” Zhang is silent and I continue.
“One day they’ll stop and think about how, since you came along, they haven’t killed any Terran Union infidels and all. Then they’ll start looking into you and find loopholes in your cover.”
“My cover is perfect,” he says.
“No cover is perfect,” I reply. “There will always be loopholes. That’s why we have to constantly maintain our act at all costs.”
We return back outside and lock the security pod.
“Is he secured?” asks the team leader.
“Yes,” Zhang replies. “Hopefully, they’ll think something other than he was murdered.”
“Good, let’s get this done,” I say. To Zhang, I say, “Stick to the plan.”
Zhang and I lead the team into a network of corridors and concourses that twist in and out of the massive superstructure. There are a lot of people, Terran and otherwise, moving about. There are also security agents in visible sight everywhere. No one gives us any second glance and we don’t keep our gaze lingering for too long.
I follow the signposts that lead out of one section of the spaceport to another, where the offices are. A vast courtyard separates one wing from another. There are several walkways and driveways for small conveyor carts for people to move between wings.
The courtyard is filled with people moving about their businesses. There are small carts dotting the courtyard, where food is being sold. I can see Tyreesians, Sonali, Kurta, even Reznak. When I see a Reznak food seller, I stiffen.
“Come this way,” I say, leading the team farther away from the Reznak. When the team leader asks me for explanations, I motion for the Reznak about a hundred yards away in the courtyard.
“That’s a Reznak,” I say. “They have telepathic abilities.”
“What, they can read minds?” the team leader asks, incredulously. Then he burst out into a hearty laughter. Some of the other men join him.
I don’t laugh, neither do I smile. Once he sees me keeping a straight face, he shuts up.
“You can’t be serious,” he says, now a little uncertain.
“I’m very serious,” I reply. “They can read minds. Of course, some have more power than others. I don’t know how strong that Reznak's ability is. I don’t know how their ability works. I don’t know if the thoughts are like stray words that move about their heads.
I don’t want to find out. If he picks up on our intent, he may raise an alarm.”
“Then we’ll just kill him,” says the same man who stabbed the officer.
I’m not sure why, but I feel anger burst into my heart. I glance at this man. He’s a short and sturdy man with a strong upper build. His bare hands look weathered. I wonder if he’s worked in the military before because he marches along with a powerful gait. I take a good look at him. I’ll be sure to kill him before this is over, and I’ll make sure it hurts.
I fake a smile and say, “Great. And create more problems for us.”
Then I hiss aloud. The man wipes the smirk off his face.
What is wrong with these people? I wonder. So trigger happy. I wonder how they’ve lasted this long without me. I frown deeply.
We make it to the end of the courtyard, where there are three lines of people waiting to get into the TAIOC office. The entry way is a wide open space, and three officers are scanning the badges of people entering.
I stop several yards from the line. The others stop as well and hang around, looking about so as not to look suspicious.
I lean towards the team leader.
“We need the exact coordinates for where the Terran Union building is located that’s hosting the summit. It’s inside the office.”
“How many Terran Union buildings are there on this fucking farming colony?” the team leader asks me.
“Usually about three to four per city,” I say. “You’re dealing with a massive bureaucracy. We have to pick the right one.”
“Right,” he says. “Go ahead.”
I look at our crew. They are trying their best to not look conspicuous, but it’s not working so well. I can tell that we’re together. And if I can tell, the security officers at the entryway can as well.
I say to the team leader, “Tell them to disperse more. People can tell that we’re together.”
He nods in agreement. I walk away from him to the last person in the middle of the line. I notice two things. One, most of them are carrying food packs. Two, they all have badges.
This can get tricky, I think to myself.
As soon as I join the line, a few other people join the line up behind me. The person in front of me is an ensign. She’s wearing a blue jumpsuit, her attention fully focused on her tablet. I read her badge which she has in her other hand in clear view. It says Brenda.
“Excuse me, Brenda,” I whisper into her ear.
She turns in surprise. I flash a smile that disarms her immediately.
“Hi,” she says with a smile. “What can I do for you?”
Her voice is chirpy.
“I’m sorry, I was wondering why we’re all lining up here,” I say. “Isn’t the Terran Armada Office supposed to be open to all?”
She smiles even as she shakes her head.
“This isn’t just any Armada Office, honey,” she says, eyeing my security uniform. “You just joined up? This is the Operations Command of the Intelligence Arm of the Terran Armada. Entrance is highly restricted even for us staff. I’m sorry, but you won’t be allowed in.”
I make a sad look on my face, slumping my shoulders.
“I was really hoping I’d get in to see some cool stuff, you know? I’ve always admired the Armada. I’m hoping someday I can join and go from enlisted to an officer and do great things in the galaxy.”
“Yeah, I’m really sorry about that,” she says.
“Do you figure I could maybe ask the security officers to let me in? Maybe if I explained myself? I just transferred here.”
“I doubt they’d let you in,” she replies. “Hell, they may even detain you.”
Then she pauses and looks around to see if we are being watched. When she has ascertained that we aren’t, she leans onto me and whispers.
“Hey, so on a normal day I could take you in and the guards wouldn’t mind, but today isn’t any normal day. A hush hush summit is being held on this planet and security is on top gear. If you don’t want to spend an unpleasant afternoon in an Armada cell, I suggest you don’t beg your way in.”
I nod once. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.”
I leave the line and return to the team leader. Once I meet him, the rest gather around us. I tell them everything I’ve learned. The line has become so much longer that our gathering is no longer suspicious; there are other officers gathering, too, waiting to join the line so they can go into the office.
“Let’s join the line,” I tell the team leader.
We join the line. I stay in the line in the middle, while the team leader on the line to my right and a little to the front, just where I want him.
If I could avoid the line, I’d do it. But Zhang and I are too deep cover to surface just yet.
By the time we are about five persons away from the entryway, my line levels up with the team leader’s line and we are side by side. The team leader lea
ns onto me again..
“So how do you plan on getting us inside?”
“Don’t worry,” I say, winking my eye. “I have a plan.”
Three minutes later, there is only one person before us. The three officers checking the badges aren’t armed. They’re merely tech officers. The armed security operatives are around and about. As soon as the person in front of me is clear, I pull out my gun and shoot the team leader in the skull.
I shout, “Terrorist!”
Panic erupts as people begin to flee everywhere. There is now a mass exodus inwards the TAIOC office wing and I’m swept along by the flood. Seconds later, the whole station is put in lockdown, with klaxons blaring into the air.
I wonder if Zhang will roll his eyes at me for killing again. At least this time I can say it wasn’t one of ours.
It’s baby steps after all.
Chapter 9
Zhang
No One’s action is quite bold. I’m liking it because if she’s got to go into death machine mode, she took out a Separatist. It’s a long way from redemption anyways—fuck, we aren’t even at forgiveness.
The powerful wave of fear and panic present in the stampede sweeps us into the TAIOC wing.
Well, that’s one way to get through the line and into the building. There is literally no order present.
I try to stay afloat because the force pushing against me from behind is so strong that, if I don’t constantly maintain being upright, it’ll drown me and then a hundred and something terrified men and women will trample over me. Well, at least I’ll get the death I deserve for all the terrible things I’ve helped No One do.
The entry way leads into a wide hallway that cuts through the entire floor of the wing. The walls are made with a special kind of glass that shows a blurred image of the other compartments of the floor. Overhead, there are light bots flashing a mix of yellow and red while the sirens are still going.
I hear running boots that are so unionized that I have to look over my shoulders. I’m not so far that I can’t see the entry way and even a portion of the courtyard. I see that the entry way remains open and people keep pouring into this wing. The officers checking for badges are now nowhere to be found.
