“So,” Parks quickly continued, seeking to head off the dozens of questions he could see forming in their minds, “I will be requiring you to travel – in the ATAFs – to Arlos starport to meet the agent, retrieve the stolen data card that was her mission target, and return to Griffin.”
Dear God, it sounded so very simple when he put it that way. A join-the-dots, paint-by-numbers task. He only wished that it was.
“This is who you will be looking for,” he said, tapping the keyboard in front of him and swivelling the monitor on his desk around to face the Knights. He once again eyed Chaz closely as he did so. Unlike the others, whose attention was focused on the screen studying the profile of the woman they were to meet, Chaz’s eyes flickered only momentarily to the monitor, before darting back to meet Parks’. For a moment, the two men locked stares.
Parks resumed, “This is Clare Barber, an agent working for the Confederate Secret Service. She is thirty-nine years old, five foot eight inches tall, and has a long-standing history of providing her government with outstanding results. That profile photo is a little out-of-date, as her hair is now straight, black, and shoulder-length, unlike the style here.”
He continued to watch Chaz as he spoke. Seemingly, none of the other pilots had picked up on the silent exchange, their eyes remaining focused on the screen, studying Barber’s details.
“She will likely be maintaining a low profile, so you will need to put in a little extra work to find her when you get to the starport. She is obviously not aware that you are coming to meet her, so don’t expect her to come running and waving her arms in the air the second you arrive.”
He still hadn’t broken eye contact with Chaz.
“All of you got that?” Parks asked. “Know who you’re looking for?”
“Yes, sir,” four of the Knights answered.
“Good.” He swivelled the screen back around. “I shouldn’t need to remind you of the very hazardous predicament that we all find ourselves in right now. Thus, it is necessary that, upon leaving Griffin and travelling to the starport, you take maximum precautions. That means avoiding detection by hostile forces at all times.”
Estelle cleared her throat, “Pardon my ignorance, sir, but while they are black, the ATAFs are not invisible.”
At another time, in another place, Parks might have smiled. Not today. “You’re half-right, Lieutenant,” he said, “and the cloaking device fitted into each of the fighters was a feature we wished to keep under wraps for as long as possible. However, circumstances such as these often force matters forward.” He paused for a moment to watch their expressions, the look of total surprise clear on all of their faces.
“Sorry, sir. Did you say a cloaking device?” Dodds said.
“Yes, Lieutenant, I did. It is exactly what you likely believe it to be – a system designed to render a target totally undetectable, by almost any means.”
“Seriously?” Enrique said.
“I’ve never been more serious, Mr Todd.”
Now that he had their total and undivided attention, Parks went on to explain the activation and features of the device. The system rendered the ATAF totally invisible to both the naked eye and all radar systems, with the exception of those onboard the ATAFs themselves. Even the glow of the engines would be effectively masked by the device, though not the emissions themselves. Not that it mattered – no one would be actively searching for anything like that, and any detection would be dismissed as packets of astral radiation.
“The invisibility effect of the cloak itself works partly by bending light waves and partly through other methods, which are classified. The active camouflage is linked to the ATAFs’ shields, so they must be enabled at all times, even when you disembark upon entering the port. I want to make it absolutely clear right now that if you disengage the cloak or the shields, then you will expose yourselves and blow your cover! You will therefore have to push yourselves back through the shield when you wish to re-enter the fighters. A tedious, yet elementary exercise, as you all should know.
“You should also know that while you can use your weapons when the system is activated, it is not recommended that you do, as it will have detrimental effects on your cloak. Should you fire any of your weaponry, then your shielding will react for a few seconds and light you up like a Christmas tree. Similar effects will be caused by anything that tests your shields to any degree, such as striking an object or taking fire.
“Unfortunately, I’m not a scientist, so I cannot list every conceivable failing of the device. But since you are not to engage hostile forces at all, there should be no reason to use your weapons whilst cloaked. The technology is something that we do not wish anyone to become aware of – whether allied or enemy – and that means not deactivating the cloak for any reason whilst you are proceeding with this mission.
“Now, do you all understand me?”
“Yes, sir,” the five mumbled.
Parks glowered. It had been a lengthy brief, but he needed to ensure they were all still very much awake. “What?”
“Sir, yes, sir!” they repeated much louder, though still with the notable exception of Chaz.
“Lieutenant Taylor,” Parks looked to Kelly, “it’s good to see that you survived your accident. How are you feeling?”
“Okay, thank you, sir,” Kelly said. “A little sick earlier on, but better now.”
“You think you’re okay to fly?”
“Yes, sir.”
Parks paused for a moment, considering. Taylor had, after all, successfully returned to Griffin and landed without need of assistance. But just to be on the safe side, he would send a doctor to give her a once-over before the team departed. Everything was ready.
Almost.
Chaz was still giving him that look, but Parks chose to ignore it. He’d speak to the man in a moment. For now, he needed to deal with someone else.
“Excellent,” Parks said. He tapped at the screen on his desk and Omar Wyatt re-entered his office. “de Winter, Dodds, I want you two to remain here for a moment, while I discuss some extra details with you. The rest of you, head back down to the cargo hold. I have already made the flight team down there aware of my plans and they should have almost completed preparations by the time you return there. Dismissed.”
Dodds and Estelle remained where they were, as Wyatt led the other three out. Parks watched them go, Chaz meeting his eyes for one last time before he left the office.
*
Dodds stood in silence as Parks rose from his chair, and paced back and forth in front of his office window, the grey and uninviting form of Arlos just visible to one side of his view. Parks didn’t take his eyes off either of the two pilots as he paced, studying them as if they were a pair of wanted criminals that he had chased for years, now having at last been brought before him. The commodore then stopped walking, placed both hands on his desk and fixed Dodds with a stern look.
“Are you sober now, Dodds?” Parks said.
“Totally, sir,” Dodds said earnestly.
“I should damn well think so, Lieutenant!” Parks snapped, his eyes narrow.
Dodds was taken aback by the reaction. Clearly, despite his earlier actions, Parks didn’t feel he had yet made up for his behaviour that morning. “I—” he started.
“I didn’t give you permission to speak freely, Lieutenant,” Parks immediately cut him off.
Dodds shut his mouth, sensing that Parks was having second thoughts about sending the team away alone.
“When you get to the starport, I don’t want any performances from you, Dodds,” Parks said. “You and Todd will fall in line behind de Winter and follow the chain of command. You will do exactly as you are ordered, without letting either your over-inflated ego or have-a-go-hero attitude interfere with your assignment.” He stabbed a finger down on the desk with each point he made. “Got that?”
“Yes, sir,” Dodds said.
“I want you to understand that this is the most difficult decision I’ve had to mak
e in my entire career,” Parks said, his eyes shifting towards Estelle. “I am leaving my ship and its entire crew defenceless, while I send you off on a mission you were never trained for. I don’t want any of you to take unnecessary risks. Get into the starport, get yourselves to Barber, get the data card, and get back to Griffin. Nothing more, nothing less. Am I making myself clear?”
“Yes, sir,” they both answered.
“de Winter,” Parks said, his tone still sharp, “upon leaving Griffin, I want you and your team to position yourselves as close to the underside of the ship as you can, before activating the cloak. This will ensure that you aren’t seen by any of the crew. Your close proximity will also ensure that you cannot be detected by the radar. Do not move away from Griffin until you are all fully cloaked. As I already stated, it is vital that we maintain total secrecy of the device. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir,” Estelle answered.
“On top of that, Lieutenant, I expect you to keep this group together. I am charging you with no less than the full responsibility of bringing back not only that data card, but five ATAFs and five starfighter pilots as well. I want to make it absolutely clear that you are not to return to Griffin until you have the data card in your possession, or you can at least reliably determine what has happened to it. Understand?”
“Sir.”
“If after successfully completing your mission, you return here only to discover that Griffin has been blown to pieces by hostile forces, you are to do nothing but wait for Meyers or Hawke to arrive in the system. Even if Griffin is nothing more than a burnt-out shell, you will not disengage your cloak, engage hostile forces, or attempt to establish any contact with non-Confederation vessels. You will hold position, even if it means waiting for your air to run out. Have you got that, too?”
“Yes, sir,” Estelle said again, her voice cracking slightly.
Dodds couldn’t help but glance in Estelle’s direction. He could hear that she was starting to become frustrated. It wasn’t long ago that she had led her team to victory against enemy forces, pulling the allies out of the fire, and saving a vast number of lives in the process. Even so, she hadn’t been allowed to be debriefed and receive the congratulations, thanks and praise that she merited. Instead, she had been stuffed into a cargo hold and been made to sit and wait.
And now she was being shouted at.
Dodds felt for her. This was supposed to be her moment to shine. She deserved the praise, the recognition and the glory. She deserved everything that she had ever wanted.
Parks, however, seemed satisfied that he was being taken seriously and that he could trust the Knights. He relaxed his tone and asked if they were in need of any further details as to their objectives, before going on to describe the appearance of the data card they were seeking, as best could be assumed, as well as what was known about Arlos starport.
After he had finalized the details, Parks said, “I should also let you know that neither Hawke nor Meyers are aware that the ATAFs have cloaking abilities and, circumstances notwithstanding, I’d prefer it to remain that way. The details of your ‘errand’ are also classified, and you should refer either the commodore or the captain to Admiral Turner if they need to know what you have been doing. Now, time is wasting; we must get on. Do you have any final questions?”
“Sir,” Dodds began, before pausing to consider what he was about to ask. He was aware that his upcoming question might be just the sort that could enrage Parks. “Er … some of the ATAFs’ weaponry isn’t active. Are there any other systems that aren’t operational, that we may need to know about ahead of our task?”
“If you’re referring to the plasma accelerators, Dodds, then this is intentional,” Parks said. “There was an agreement put in place prior to the commencement of Operation Menelaus that no beam weapons, torpedoes or other high-yield weaponry would be directed towards Dragon. This agreement was made to ensure that we could recover the battleship without causing it critical or irreparable damage. But no; there are no other features of the fighter that you need to be aware of at this time. Now, if that is all?”
Dodds and Estelle nodded.
“Good. Now get down to the cargo hold and get going. There is little time to spare. Security are waiting outside to escort you. Dismissed.”
Dodds and Estelle started out of Parks’ office and caught his last words as the doors opened.
“Good luck, Knights. I’ll meet you on your return to Griffin.”
*
A little way from where Dodds and Enrique stood, Estelle ascended the ladder into her ATAF. As Kelly was beckoned forward to board her fighter and perform safety checks, Dodds leaned over to Enrique.
“Okay seriously, doesn’t any of this strike you as weird?” he said in a low voice.
“How do you mean?” Enrique asked.
“That starfighter is monstrously more powerful than anything else I have ever seen.”
“Of course it is – it’s the next generation up.”
Dodds shook his head and leaned closer. “Mate, listen – it took just three of these things to take down an entire frigate. Kelly had a head-on collision with a heavy-class Imperial fighter, and while that thing was blown to pieces, there isn’t one single, tiny little scratch on her ATAF. And now we’re being told that these things have the ability to turn themselves invisible? I mean, don’t you see? You don’t build something like that for no reason, if they did build it themselves at all! This is a lot more significant than just the next generation of fighter. What the hell is going on?”
Enrique thought about it for a moment, then shrugged. “Dunno, man. We’ll probably find out a little later on.”
“I’d rather know sooner,” Dodds said. “There’s something about all this that doesn’t feel right.”
The two stood in silence for a while, watching as Kelly put on her helmet and the ladder was wheeled away from the side of the craft. Enrique was then called forward to prepare for takeoff, leaving Dodds alone on the cargo bay floor.
Alone? Wait a moment. Where had Chaz gotten to?
Estelle had set the launch order as herself, Kelly, Enrique, Dodds and finally Chaz. Dodds then became aware of the big man returning to his side. Chaz must’ve wandered off somewhere as he’d spoken with Enrique, his disappearance going unnoticed as the two watched Estelle and Kelly prepare for departure. He looked back around to the entrance of the hold, where he saw Wyatt and his team guarding the doors that were shutting once more.
Had Chaz been speaking with them? Or perhaps someone else, who had just departed the hold? He’d felt a vibe coming from Chaz during that briefing with Parks. Something was definitely up there.
“You okay?” he said to the big man, as Estelle taxied forward.
“Will be once this is all over,” Chaz replied.
Dodds noted the usual enthusiastic tone in his voice. “Shouldn’t be more than a few more hours,” he said. “Let’s say, four hours there, one hour to find that spy, four hours back. Then we can relax.”
Chaz said nothing, the air about him somehow quieter than ever.
XXI
— Of Daggers —
Sat amongst a huddled group of blanket-wrapped men and women, Daniel Sullivan was finally convinced that he was being followed. A woman – he assumed it was by the way she carried herself – also wrapped in a blanket against the chill of the starport, had been lurking just out of sight for the last hour or so. The blanket rested on top of her head, the folds enclosing her and hiding her face from sight. She had probably been tailing him as he walked around the port, attempting to find someone interested in his wares. His efforts had so far proven worthless, his enquiries having been met largely with disinterest, as well as the occasional outburst from those wishing to be left alone.
What were all these people doing here anyway, he wondered? Why was the place so desolate? Why was the power down so low that it wasn’t even warm? Usually, the massive central hall of the starport was bustling, filled with all manne
r of people – miners, resting from their labours; traders and couriers, seeking work and contracts; and many, many travellers. Brightly animated signs and warm inviting lights from coffee shops, pubs, various food outlets and trading posts would create a welcoming ambience. Even in the most backwater of star systems, the familiar branding of intergalactic corporations would provide the port’s guests with a sense of home and comfort.
Laughter and chatter no longer filled the hall, the signs of the shops inanimate, the doors locked, with no apparent intention of reopening. Many of the stores had had their windows smashed and their contents looted. The central hall had been transformed into a sea of people, all settled on the floor, bags and other personal belongings surrounding them. Small children lay asleep, cuddled up to their parents.
Sullivan was of the opinion that although the port was not bitterly cold, it could’ve been warmer. Under circumstances such as these, keeping warm could be achieved either by wrapping up, consuming hot food and drink, or by moving around. The scarred man opted for the latter.
Standing, he began to stride away from his stalker, partly to put distance between the two of them and partly to get away from the place altogether. Though he had only arrived a few hours earlier, he’d already had enough of Arlos starport. It was time to move on and find another place to sell his spoils. Perhaps he’d have better luck within the inner sphere of the imperium. The frontier systems that he had visited so far had been almost devoid of life. He’d never had such difficulty in offloading his stock before. Was the civil war really going that badly? The news suggested that it was a far more contained affair, being fought within the core systems, and not the nation-spanning issue that this appeared to be.
What a pain in the arse! This was costing him business! Still, at least his lifestyle allowed him to get by for a few months without any trade. And it was nice to know that he could take it easy whenever he wanted. Being your own boss, what wasn’t there to like? He got to keep all the money he earned, no greedy tax man chasing him for another pound of flesh. Sometimes he’d even get his hands on something so good that he would keep it for himself. The perks of this job were great. And he’d done the lot – smuggling, weapons trafficking, drugs, slaves (once), Darts, cars, more drugs, slaves (okay, more than once), antiques (really only once), whatever.
The Battle for the Solar System (Complete Trilogy) Page 30
