Rebels and Patriots (Imperium Cicernus Book 3)

by A. G. Claymore

  The petty officer turned to see what the youngster was looking at and gave her a curt nod of respect. “Ma’am.”

  “Gentlemen,” she greeted them together, not wanting to make it painfully clear to the ensign that she knew who was really in charge of the situation. “What’s going on in there?”

  She managed not to smile as she caught the reassuring nod from the petty officer. The young officer was probably terrified and she forced herself to keep a straight face.

  “Ma’am, we’ve still got most of the ‘lunch luggers’ in there. They managed to hack into a life support junction and recharge their suits.”

  It was hardly a surprise to Schatz. The logistics arm of the Corps had its own combat engineers. “Has the bay been re-pressurized?”

  A nod, followed by an awkward pause. “Sorry, ma’am. Yes, it has.”

  “Good, weapons on safe. Pull your team back around the corner.”

  “But…” the P.O. started to object.

  “It’s alright, P.O.,” she reassured him, hoping she was right. “We need to end this right now or thousands of people are going to die. Get your team back.”

  She walked up to the entry portal and pounded on the hatch.

  After half a minute, the speaker on the wall startled her.

  “Who’s knocking?” a female voice demanded.

  “This is Commander Schatz; I’m serving as the acting captain until we can get back to Home-world. Who are you?”

  “You think I’m nuts?”

  “We can get to that later,” she told her. “Right now, I need you to let me in so we can talk.”

  “Now who’s nuts?”

  “I’m unarmed,” Schatz assured her, “and the security team is back around the next corner. I need to talk to you and I’m not doing it till we can talk face to face.”

  There was a long pause and she was starting to think they were just ignoring her.

  She was just deciding to hammer on the hatch again when it hissed and slid open. A Marine pilot stood there with an armed ground-crewman behind her, aiming at Schatz’ head. Even Navy EVA armor could give their rifles a hard time.

  The pilot was medium height and slender with dark hair and eyes.

  “Well, ‘Captain’,” she said, stressing her title just enough to indicate what she thought of a second engineer running a super-dreadnaught, “you said you wanted to talk.” She held out a hand toward the interior of the logistics bay.

  Schatz fought the urge to take a deep breath, not wanting to show nervousness in front of the mutineers. She marched boldly into the cavernous space to find herself surrounded by the men and women of 538 Marine Logistics Group. They were standing behind rows of pallets or on top of their large cargo craft.

  “Who do you serve?” she shouted.

  There was a bit of confusion at this. Clearly they hadn’t expected such a blatant question. The general gist of the muttering and shouts indicated that they served the Emperor.

  “Who do you serve?” she shouted again, hope beginning to stir.

  There was a great deal more unison in their response this time and she decided to press on. “Some of your senior officers have been serving someone else.”

  She activated a holo display. A pair of heavily armored Marines were being cut down by dragoons. The Marines around her growled in disapproval, their weapons inching back up to aim at her.

  She paused the playback. “Take a look beyond the Marines and see what they were protecting.” She walked over to stand in the image. “The bridge crew are all Grays,” she said loudly. “Same thing down in engineering: Marines fighting Humans to protect a Gray warship in orbit around Irricana.”

  The noise began to fade. She activated a large view of the main hangar of the Sucker Punch. “These are stasis pods on the same ship,” she told them, “built for Humans. So far, we’ve found the DNA of more than sixteen thousand missing Irricanans. People abducted by operators from the 538 to make it look like your activities out here were the work of secessionists.”

  It looked like there were many who thought she was flat-out lying, but enough were absorbing the message for her to move the agenda forward.

  “I have no trouble believing you’ve been lied to by your superiors,” she assured them. “I’ve met Colonel Kinsey but most of the bridge staff are more familiar with him.” She grinned. “They say the trick to knowing when he’s lying is to watch his lips. If they’re moving...”

  A chuckle rolled through the mutineers.

  “Right now,” she continued, “we’re in the atmosphere of Nilak, a gas giant orbited by the world where our people have been taken. We’re going to sit down here and listen in on local communications until we figure out where exactly those folks are.

  The Xipe Totec came with us, but she was blown off station and we need those cargo carriers,” she jabbed a finger at a row of heavy-looking, armored ASL’s, “fitted out and ready to go look for them. We’ve got close to forty thousand of his Majesty’s subjects waiting for us to come to the rescue and we need the Xipe Totec if we’re going to save them.

  “Make no mistake, folks. The Grays think this is their time to shine. They’re up there right now,” she aimed a finger toward the ceiling, “experimenting on our people and they know where to find lots more when they’ve used up the first batch.

  “Who do you serve?” She barely raised her voice above a normal speaking volume this time. The room had grown very quiet.

  “The Emperor!” they shouted in near-perfect unison.

  “Well, there are thirty-seven thousand Humans up there on Narsa, and they’re counting on their Emperor to save them.” She jabbed a finger at the row of ASL’s. “Get every single ASL prepped for launch ASAP and install the water bowsers. We need every extra ounce to boost your resistance to the winds out there. We need to find the Totec as quickly as possible.”

  They slung their weapons and got to work. Schatz allowed herself a relieved sigh. There was no guarantee they’d ever find the Xipe Totec, but at least she’d found a way to clear up the last vestiges of mutiny aboard her ship.

  “Ma’am?”

  She turned to see the same pilot who’d let her in. “Yes, Major…?”

  “Major Indah, ma’am. I’m the senior pilot of 538 MLG, unless some missing folks happen to turn up.”

  “What is it Major?”

  “Just wondering what exactly you have in mind for our deployment. We’ll just get lost ourselves if we get out there and scatter like cats.”

  It was a blow to the ego. Schatz was still patting herself on the back over ending the rebellion but she didn’t really have a concrete plan for using the Marine ships.

  Indah must have read her captain’s expression. “If I may,” she offered, “we can string out like an old-fashioned EVA rescue chain. Each ship extending the comms range and, hopefully, we can reach out far enough to find the Totec.”

  “It really is the only thing we can do,” Schatz agreed, “but we can only use our optical arrays. We can’t risk being picked up by the locals until we’re ready to start killing them.”

  Indah tilted her head, frowning. “That certainly reduces our range,” she said. “We’d better cut the safety margin down to five percent and hope to find them fast. There’s a good chance they’re trying to find us. Are we all running on inertial navigation at least?”

  “As long as we’re hiding down here.”

  Indah nodded. “Then they may not be very far. We’d better make sure they don’t ram us in this soup.”

  “Just get out there as fast as you can.” Schatz started for the portal but stopped. “Major?”

  Indah stopped and turned. “Ma’am?”

  “The amnesty ended a while ago but, if Inspector Grimm doesn’t extend it for you, I’ll offer one as acting captain. Let your people know.”

  Indah came to attention, the proper form of salute for personnel not wearing a head-dress. As this was a flight deck, nobody would be wearing their cover. “Thank-you, ma�
�am!” She understood the potential trouble such a stance posed for Schatz.

  There were very few instances where a captain offered clemency to mutineers and managed to keep head attached to body after reaching CentCom. Mutiny was one of the most dangerous words in the military. Any captain who failed to ruthlessly execute a mutinous crew was seen as encouraging others to rise up against authority.

  Schatz stepped back out into the passageway. “It’s Schatz,” she called out. “Mutiny’s over, you can stand down your team and get some rest.”

  The ensign and the petty officer came around the corner, looking rather bemused. “Shouldn’t we collect the prisoners, ma’am?” the ensign asked.

  “There are none,” she told him. “We need them flying those ASL’s, not warming cots in the brig.”

  The petty officer, an old hand, nodded his approval. “Ma’am,” he said quietly, “if you’ll pardon the liberty, I’m damned glad to see we’ve got a captain willing to do what needs doing.”

  She knew she shouldn’t be allowing an implicit criticism of the previous captain, even if the man had been in Kinsey’s pocket, but the feedback was an enormous boost to her morale. This old-timer had been through a hell of a lot of senior officers. He knew what he was talking about.

  And he deserved respect.

  “Thanks, P.O.” She dropped a hand on his shoulder. “Get your boys some rest. Never know when I’m going to need you again.”

  She headed back toward the monorail.

  “There’s the ASL’s,” the sensor officer announced. “Let’s hope they find the Totec.”

  “For their sake, they’d better,” Urbica replied. Her tone wasn’t as dark as the apparent gist of her statement, but curious faces turned her way.

  “If the Xipe Totec was blown off station,” she explained, “it can happen to us as well. This ship is everybody’s ticket home so we need to keep track of everyone.”

  She strolled over to the sensor section. “Anything coming in, Lars?”

  A nod. “Quite a lot, actually. We’ve got a gas mining platform within a few hundred kilometers of our current position and we’re piggy-backing off their connection with Narsa.

  “They’ve got a high-bandwidth link and I think I can sneak a few queries through the pipe without anyone being the wiser.”

  “Are you sure?”

  A shrug. “Nothing’s ever sure, Colonel…”

  She sighed dramatically. “Alright, ‘Trader Lars’, would you put money on it?”

  He grinned. “Ma’am, I’d liquidate assets to put money on it.”

  “If you’d risk money on it, go ahead and run a query,” she ordered. “I don’t want us sitting down here any longer than we need to. This plan is a disaster waiting to happen.”

  “Welcome to the military,” Lars muttered good-naturedly as he set up his query. “Hurry up and explode.”

  She opened a channel to engineering. “Daffyd,” she began with a glance at Paul, “what’s the status on your prototype?” She was putting out the first hints for the bridge crew. From there, the rumor mill should take care of the rest.

  “My protot… oh… yes, ma’am. The prototype. It took a bit of damage to the… field containment rings on the last hop but we’re all good down here… How’s everything with you?”

  She rolled her eyes at Paul. “We’re fine up here, Daffyd. Just keep your prototype working long enough to get us home.”

  “Aye, ma’am.”

  “A spy he most certainly is not,” Paul whispered. “That was like watching a Gray in dark sunglasses try to sneak into a Humans-only lounge.” He was pleased with the results of the performance, though. He’d caught a few bridge staff exchanging glances during the conversation with engineering.

  The combination of dire threats and a juicy story practically guaranteed someone would spark the rumor. Daffyd, the clever bastard who’d managed to turn the Rope a Dope into a lethal, undercover raider-killer, had cooked up some kind of wormhole generator.

  But mum’s the word…

  It was always easier to force a disruptive innovation on the government if you’d already started the lies for them.

  “You should get some sleep, Colonel,” a major urged. “By my count, you’ve been up for thirty hours. Won’t do to have you falling asleep during the rescue operation.”

  Urbica stifled a yawn. “Can’t argue that, Major. You have the conn.” She headed for the door but stopped halfway and turned.

  “Inspector, can you head down to engineering and make sure Daffyd’s prototype is secure?” she asked.

  “Certainly, Colonel.” Paul followed her out.

  He turned at the main intersection to head aft, but she grabbed his arm and dragged him back toward her own door.

  “And you thought Daffyd was dense,” she teased, closing the door behind them. “Paul, I have nearly forty thousand Humans waiting for us to save them, close to the same number of Marines lost in this gǒushǐ weather and I’m supposed to just lay my head on a pillow and catch a few hours of sleep?”

  “Ahhh,” Paul mused as she activated his suit release, “so you’re planning to use me as some sort of sleep aid? Just a tool to help release some endorphins and get you to sleep faster?”

  “Well…” she hesitated.

  “Hey, I’m fine with that,” he grinned. “Just trying to get into the role is all.”

  Lost and Found

  Paul woke first. His arm was asleep after several hours of Julia sleeping on it and he was trying to figure out a way to extract it without waking her. He tried shifting it, hoping to restore some circulation but she stirred and mumbled something unintelligible.

  His attempt managed to restore just enough circulation to send pins and needles of agony through the trapped limb. He flexed his hand, gritting his teeth against the increased pain, but the movement was helping to force blood through his veins.

  It also woke Julia. “Mpff…” She lifted her head from his chest and cuffed the back of her hand across her mouth. “Zāogāo,” she exclaimed. “Sorry I drooled on you.”

  “I have that effect on women,” he replied airily.

  She giggled. “You get a lot of fan-girl drool, do you?”

  “Practically have to carry a towel around with me.” He grinned at her. “You slept well.”

  “Oh God!” She reddened slightly. “Were you awake the whole time listening to me snore?”

  “Only for the first hour,” he assured her. “Y’know, they say beautiful women always snore. Nature has to balance itself, after all…”

  She made a face and sat up to look at the clock by the couches. “I’ve been out for nearly four hours.”

  “That’s right,” Paul asserted. “And, evidently, if I hadn’t been here, you’d still be trying to fall asleep.” He stretched. “Never before, in the service of the Imperium, have so few been so happy to give so much…”

  He gave up as she threw a suit at him.

  “Get dressed, Hero.” She was already halfway into her own suit. “Sneak down to engineering and put in an appearance.”

  “I’ll spread the fire and brimstone speech,” he said. “That should get the rumors flying.”

  Daffyd wasn’t there when he got to engineering. He probably had the sense to sleep while he had the chance. Paul settled for a quick chat with the second engineer, warning him that Daffyd was involved in some very highly classified work and that everyone was to keep their pie-holes shut.

  He arrived on the bridge to find Julia looking at a screen with Lars.

  “Inspector,” she greeted him politely, “Lars may have found something.”

  He’d noticed a slightly raised eyebrow on Lars’ face as she called him ‘Inspector’. Were there rumors floating around the ship beyond the one that he’d started to give Daffyd credit for the wormhole generator?

  “I’ve found a document on their data hive,” Lars explained. “It’s basically an investing prospectus. This company is pointing to their recent contract with the G
ray Quorum as a major source of future revenue. They’re supplying a research facility on Narsa with an initial run of eighty thousand pairs of coveralls and footwear.”

  “And what makes this stand out?” Paul asked.

  “They attribute the contract to their adjustable equipment. They also take aim at their competitors, claiming they would need to bring in new production equipment to make ‘such large’ items.”

  “You clever bastard!” Paul grinned at him. “Any idea where they ship their large clothing to?”

  “Not yet,” he admitted. “We’d need to get into their systems but I don’t know if the hive on this ship will trip an alarm if I actively link it in. What I need is one of the quantum cores on the Xipe Totec. That garbage they have on the Dauntless is too old.”

  “Well, we’re going to have to wait,” she told him. “When we find them, I’ll put you on a shuttle and…”

  “I can give you access to a quantum core,” Paul offered. “My implant is at least as new as the equipment on an LHV carrier and we can avoid the dangers of flying between ships in this weather.”

  He swiped his hand in front of his head to open a blank holo-interface and linked into it. “Here,” he said, turning the screen to Lars.

  “Hell,” Lars cursed softly as he set up the interface for the attempt. “This is worlds better than military gear. We could probably hook you up to the bridge on an LHV and you’d be able to run it yourself.”

  “Yeah, well, just stay out of the data files. I’ve got some classified stuff in there,” Paul warned. This time he noticed raised eyebrows from both Lars and Urbica.

  “You been making hive-porn, Inspector?” She teased.

  Lars tried, unsuccessfully, to stifle a laugh as he turned his attention back to the screen.

  “Sorry, Colonel.” He shrugged. “I’d share if I had any, but it’s just case files in there; nothing racy.” He raised his eyebrows, tilting his head in thought. “Well, the case file that broke this whole mess open is actually a bit pornographic but… um…” He scratched at the back of his head.