by M. D. Cooper
At that moment, a clang echoed through the compartment and the bridge door slid open; two mercs hung in the frame, guns drawn.
“Cease acceleration and prepare to be boarded.”
“What the fuck?” Lauder swore. “Where did you two idiots come from?”
“The places you didn’t search,” the first man said. “Now drop your weapons and comply.”
“Are these guys serious?” Jansen asked Tanis.
“They seem like it…but I’m not really sure. Are you two serious? You are going to try to take on six Marines and two TSF officers by yourselves? You’re going to die, and it’ll probably be messy.”
The men looked at each other and then at Tanis. Before they could respond, an impact rattled the ship and in the midst of the collision multiple shots peppered the mercs. Their hands slipped free of the handholds and their lifeless bodies fell back through the opening.
“Oops, did I clip that cargo net?” Joseph asked. “Sorry about that.”
Another shock ran through the ship, coupled with the screams of metal shearing. Joseph grunted. “That one wasn’t me.”
The second merc ship had gained ground while the commander’s focus was split and had gotten a projectile round off at close range.
“Losing our starboard engine.” Tom’s concerned voice sounded over the bridge speakers. “Shutting it down to avoid a runaway reaction.”
“ETA on TSF fighter craft is two minutes.” Tannon sounded anxious. The Marines were used to conflicts where they could take direct action to decide the outcome. This frantic flight was wearing on their nerves.
“Think they’ll try to board us, or just blow us out of the sky?” Lang asked.
Another explosion rocked the ship and Lauder swore. “I guess that’s our answer.”
“Belay that impending doom!” Tannon grinned at the scan console. “Looks like they got the tubes cleared. Blue squadron is inbound. Say goodbye to the bad mercenaries.”
Tanis brought the scan data up on the main holo and sure enough, six fighter craft were racing over the bulk of the station. Tactical missiles fired from each ship and tore into the lead mercenary vessel. Their yield was low, but the strikes were precise. The engines went dead and the weapons signatures winked out. Scan showed a tug leave a nearby dock to catch the ship before it did more damage. Moments later a similar scene played out with the other merc ship.
“And that”— Joseph leaned back in his seat and smiled at the main holo—“is that.”
REPROACH
STELLAR DATE: 3227224 / 09.28.4123 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: GSS Intrepid, Mars Outer Shipyards (MOS)
REGION: Mars Protectorate, Sol Space Federation
The post-op took over twenty hours, a good portion of which was spent re-taking the dock from the last few mercs, who had entrenched themselves quite thoroughly. Then came the round-up, squabbles over jurisdiction, and the interrogations. It was well into the following day before Ouri and Tanis got to sit down together and go over what they had learned.
“This is most interesting.” Tanis looked over the interrogation logs. “Trent was not involved with these men at all, at least not to their knowledge. The captains all had their dealings with a man by the name of Drenn. He has links to the STR Consortium, been known to be involved in some of their less public projects.”
Ouri scowled at the data as she reviewed. “So, does this mean we have two threats or just one that is a little clearer and a little scarier?”
“I’m betting that it’s the same threat, though we do have to keep an open mind.” She took a drink from the restorative in front of her. “Still, I’m guessing that Trent wasn’t getting the desired results, so his bosses declared open season on us.”
“More likely on you,” Ouri replied. “I’m guessing that they’ve singled you out. That was a very deadly scenario that was specifically designed to draw you in.”
“And in I was drawn…rather foolishly too.”
“I’ll say so.” Admiral Sanderson stood in the doorway.
“Sir.” Both women stood and saluted.
“Sit.” Sanderson gestured as he did.
“Quite the little escapade you had, Major.” He allowed his glare to linger on her for a moment before continuing. “Imagine my reaction when I hear, while on my visit to the Marsian Parliament, that the officer in charge of our security has ripped a ship from the station, exposed an entire dock to vacuum, and proceeded to tear across the construction yards, spilling cargo in her wake like it was confetti.”
“I can only guess that it must have been extreme, sir.”
“You’re damn right it was extreme. You should never have allowed yourself to be drawn in so completely. I thought you were an intelligence officer. You could stand to display some.”
Tanis sat and took the rebuke in silence. Ouri looked like she wished she were anywhere else, up to and including cleaning sewage scrubbers, than at the table listening to Sanderson dress down her CO.
“Well, what do you have to say for yourself?”
Tanis took a breath. She could think of a hundred reasons why no other person would have expected to run into four ships full of armed mercenaries on what was supposed to be a secure dock, but she knew that wouldn’t fly with the admiral.
“I take full responsibility, sir. I acted rashly and without proper care and attention. It won’t happen again.”
“You must know that I am under considerable pressure to have you removed. Terrance and the captain have been inundated with calls and protestations from all levels of Marsian bureaucracy. Considerable pressure.”
“I’ll tender my resignation at once, sir,” Tanis replied stoically. “I do not wish to cause them any more trouble than I already have.” While she appeared calm on the outside, inside she was fraught with emotion. If she had to abdicate her place on the Intrepid, she would find whoever was responsible and kill them, even if it took a thousand years.
“Don’t be an idiot. You’ll do no such thing.” Anderson gave her a look that teachers usually reserve for their worst students. “Despite your rather shoddy handling of yesterday’s events, your record otherwise has been impeccable. I simply wish to inform you that should your next encounter with the enemy show such large amounts of bravado coupled with such small amounts of careful consideration, I may have to rethink my decision regarding your placement here.”
“Yes, sir.” Tanis could feel her limbs again, her heart slowed back down and she took a deep breath.
“Now, let’s talk about the prisoners. That much, at least, was a job well done. We can finally get some information on who is behind this.”
“Yes, sir. From what we have learned so far, it appears that the mercenaries were contacted by a man by the name of Drenn. He is connected to the STR Consortium, dealing particularly in the types of projects that they like to keep hidden from the public eye. It is our opinion that they were hired to take me out of the picture.”
Sanderson leaned back and stroked his chin. “And why, pray tell, Major, would they go to such considerable expense to remove you, pain in my ass though you are? I imagine that this operation cost them billions of credits, enough to buy a small corporation on a major planet.”
“Indeed, sir.” Tanis nodded. “I think they want to get rid of me because their sabotage success rate dropped when I came onboard. It’s not a lot, but their last several attacks have all targeted me, so I think there is some credence there.”
Sanderson grunted a tentative assent. “And what about your belief that it is solely the STR?” he asked.
“We’ve obviously been under concerted corporate, network, and physical attack for some time. We’ve ruled out radical groups, though
it is logical to assume, and borne out by the data, that roughly ten percent of our troubles are from those fringe elements.
“That being said, the rest is either governmental or corporate in origin. There is a relatively small list of either that could sustain an attack of this duration through so many avenues. If these men truly did get their orders from Drenn, then it has to have been the STR Consortium all along.”
“They have been on our suspect list since we determined that it was a bigger player pulling the strings,” Sanderson said. “What does this change?”
“We can now begin pursuing legal action against them,” Tanis replied. “We have affidavits and statements from many of the mercs regarding the nature of this attempt and who hired them. Once we make a solid connection between Drenn and the STR we can begin subpoenaing communications that we can link between him and the STR. That’ll be a feeding frenzy for the news hounds and will cause them to think twice before making such a bold move again.”
“We won’t be able to make this stick to them.” Sanderson shook his head. “We don’t have a solid enough tie.”
“And we’re not likely to get one, but they’ll still have to fight us off. The money it will cost them in share value alone will make them rethink their plans. At the very least they will probably refrain from more events like this and go back to that Trent guy.”
“That would be something at least.” The admiral nodded. “One mysterious foe is enough.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Tanis said.
“I still don’t see how this all fully explains the considerable expense they are going to in trying to remove you alone.”
“I can only surmise”—Tanis leaned back in her chair—“that they have something big planned and hope to remove me and carry it out before you can find a replacement.”
ALTERED AGENT
STELLAR DATE: 3227225 / 09.29.4123 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: High Terra, Sector RC3.4
REGION: Earth, Sol Space Federation
Jessica’s boot crashed into the steel door, forcing it open against the protests of the apartment’s occupant. The man on the other side flailed and lost his balance, hitting the floor hard. She strode through the entrance to his dingy home and he scampered back on his hands and feet like the most awkward of crabs, the expression on his face one of total fear.
“Mr. Jameson,” Jessica said. “You’ve not pleased me, not pleased me at all.”
“Agent Keller, don’t kill me…please don’t kill me,” Jameson’s voice quivered.
Whoa, that sure is leaping to a conclusion, Jessica thought as she looked impassively at the cowering man who appeared near tears. She really hated getting information from crying people, especially with all the sobbing and gasping. It took a long time to calm them down and reassure them—only to threaten them again.
It was tedious, but she softened her stance and expression.
“Jameson, are you high? I’m TBI, we don’t just shoot people. We have district attorneys that need a reason for their existence—we hand scum like you over to them.”
His eyes grew wide and he raised his hands. “You can’t do that! They’ll make me talk…and then I’m dead for sure.”
Jessica reached back and swung the door closed, or as closed as it could get after her boot had forced it open. She walked forward and Jameson continued to back away from her.
“Oh for god sakes, man, get up already. I feel like I’m talking to some ring urchin.”
That wouldn’t be far from the truth. The apartment was pretty rank, close to one of the waste processing centers on the ring. Not the sort of place landlords could charge a lot of rent for, or attract decent residents to.
Jameson could probably afford better, but it suited him to be here. He slowly got to his feet and moved as far away from her as the space would allow.
Jessica sat down in a hard plastic chair and regarded the man. He was skinny, his cheeks gaunt and hands all knuckles and sinew—a sign of too many mods and not enough body to support them. His system was slowly cannibalizing itself for energy. Unless he altered his body to accept and store more calories he would be dead inside of a year, two at most. He must know it; maybe he didn’t care.
His sunken eyes didn’t seem to fit in the sockets right, probably a cheap set that weren’t a custom fit. Why anyone would ever skimp on the eyes was beyond her. Getting the eyes right was the most important thing. Jessica had spent considerable sums of her own money on her pair of deep purple peepers; there was no way was she going to install the baseline units that the Terran Bureau of Investigation offered its agents.
“Look, Jameson. I’m not here to take you in. I’m not here to shoot you. I just want to talk.” She tried to use her most soothing voice. It probably didn’t come off that well since she was wearing Trellan FC9 body armor, the best protection available below a fully powered suit.
She pulled the helmet off, tucked it under her arm, letting her glossy blue hair free, and gave her head a shake to let it settle around her shoulders. Maybe if she reminded him she was a woman he would stop freaking out.
It seemed to help. Though the armor was heavy, it was well fitted. The waist was tapered and the amount of bosom under the plating was fairly obvious. Other than the joints, the armor was smooth and its matte sheen had a certain utilitarian look to it. Some guys got off on that sort of thing.
“Well, I guess that’s OK,” he said, his eyes seeming to be tracing the outline of her body. What do you need to know?”
“I’m looking for a guy. Goes by the name of Myrrdan. I got word you’ve dealt with him.”
Jameson snorted, for the first time not looking completely scared. “Him? He’s nobody, why would you want to find him?”
“I’ve got my reasons. Word has it that you saw him earlier today, he bought some access time on one of the Non-Sentient AI super nodes through you.”
The NSAI super nodes were extremely powerful computers, often more powerful than dozens of combined sentient AI. They were useful in managing complex systems that required little ingenuity. In short, tasks that would bore humans, or sentient AI to tears…or whatever the AI equivalent of tears was. An NSAI super node could do things like plot the orbits of electrons around a quintillion atoms in real time, or index the entire wealth of human literature in a matter of minutes. They were also great at hacking through security.
“Why would I do that? Everyone knows that Myrrdan hasn’t got any cred. I wouldn’t let him buy NSAI through me, I could lose my access for tax work.”
“Right, your tax work for folks who could never let a legit auditor look at their books.”
Jameson looked rather depressed. “I don’t know why you get so down on me…I’m a hardworking citizen.”
Jessica laughed. “Hardworking, maybe, but at what?”
“Look, I’ll tell you—will you leave me alone then?”
Jessica gave him a look that all but screamed the words spill it already!
“I did get him some time on a node: 76343.32343:99832.92034. It’s not a super node, but he said he didn’t need that much juice.”
“How big a block and when?”
“A million relative seconds, beginning tomorrow at 1200. It’s parallel, so only two thousand sidereal seconds.”
Jessica was shocked. “A million? How much did he pay?”
“Uh…a lot.”
Jessica could imagine, though she couldn’t imagine what Myrrdan would do with a million seconds on an NSAI, even if it wasn’t a super node. Well, she did have some ideas, but nothing she really wanted to think about.
Jessica stood. “Thanks, Jameson. You’ve been real helpful.”
He nodded and muttered something about denting his door. Jessica didn’t respond and pulled the portal shut behind her as she stepped out into the hall. With some effort, she got it latched; the boot mark was a cosmetic feature as far as she was concerned.
She walked quickly down the corridor and out of the block. A bank
of tubelifts stood across the section’s main access corridor and Jessica stepped into one of them, keying the surface level. The tube closed in around her and pulled her up at over a thousand kilometers per hour. The mass compensation system cushioned the effect and she almost couldn’t feel the motion.
Jessica accessed her Link and reported the information to Nell, the AI in charge of organizing agents’ duties and reports. Nell thanked her for the update and scheduled a meeting for 0800 with Sub-Regional Director Rickford to determine the next course of action.
The tublelift arrived at the ring’s surface just as Jessica finished updating her internal calendar for the next day: 0800, discuss stopping madman; 1200, stop madman.
She walked out of the transit station into the soft glow of night, the earth hanging directly above her with the Asian sub-continent sliding by—the lights of the New Delhi arcologies a bright spot below the darkness of the Himalayas.
It was near the vernal equinox, which meant that the ring was in line with Earth and Sol. Whenever this occurred, the ring had two nights. The long night when its back was to Sol, and the shorter night as the far side of the ring fell in Earth’s shadow. The event also created a days-long eclipse on the far side of the earth as the ring obscured Sol.
The nature of the ring, combined with the fact that it was a place where people travelled hundreds of kilometers in minutes, time zones were unused. This meant that it was 2164 everywhere on the ring, no matter if it was night or day.
Jessica could never get used to it. Sleeping during the day, night, morning, whatever; it messed her up every time. She missed Athabasca. It was too far north to catch shadow from the ring and had proper days and nights and regular seasons, unlike the mild winter/summer shifts of just a few degrees on the ring.
It made her itch to be back on Earth. Hell, it looked so close, hanging above her. She felt she should be able to reach out and touch it. However, she had another itch that needed scratching and there was just one way to get that done.
