High Crimes: A Pax Aeterna Novel (Pax Aeterna Universe Book 5)

by Trevor Wyatt

  “Perseus?” I ask, racking my brain. “Where’s that?”

  No One is the one who answers.

  “Perseus is a remote and pastoral farm planet near the border of these four powers.”

  I don’t know if it’s her nanites enhancement that enables her to remember such details or if she just looked up some Armada secure files. It’s against protocol to do so in a different territory, such as where we are, but it’s No One. She gets by with virtually everything.

  “Yes,” Admiral Shane says. “The Terran Union is trying to pursue a dialog in this volatile region of space in hopes of greater harmony, technology transfer, and agreements to build technology together to get the missing links in building our own matter transport device. The Tyreesians are running holy fucking havoc on the border outposts with their matter transport technology. So we’re holding a summit and involving the Human Confederation as a way of talking about potential assistance in FTL 6 from us for matter transport for them. They’re also sending some military liaisons to talk to us. We’re hoping that with diplomacy we can shave off at least a year in research. As a backup plan, in case that doesn’t work, we need to help the defector escape.

  “In fact, this entire summit has been planned with this defection in mind. The defector has done her part to attach herself to the delegation. Now, we must do our part to get her into Terran Union custody without arousing suspicion.”

  “So, is our initial plan to get the teleporter still on?” No One asks.

  “Yes,” he replies. “Actually, both missions are critical to our plan of getting the technology, so they must run concurrently. I’ll leave the details up to you. But we need both the actual teleporter devices as well as the scientist to ensure that we have everything needed to produce our own teleporters. No teleporter and no scientist will set us back right where we’re at—which is nowhere.”

  A knock comes at the door.

  “We gotta go, sir,” No One says.

  Admiral Shane nods. “Get the job done, and then you can come home.”

  Another knock.

  “Roger that, sir,” I say, then cut the signal.

  No One grabs the black cube. After deactivating it, she shoves it under her bed, while I go get the door.

  Standing in the doorway is the team leader who clearly doesn’t look happy.

  Chapter 6

  No One

  “What are you two doing?” the team leader asks, pushing his way past Zhang into the room. He looks around, then stops at the center.

  Zhang walks over to me with a smile on his face and kisses me on the lips, lightly yet passionately. My whole body comes alive, tingling. My eyes are still closed when his delightful lips pull away from mine. Somehow, I don’t want it to end.

  In fact, I want to remain with my eyes closed, but I know I have to keep up appearances. I open up my eyes with a smile. I lick my lips and use my eyes to travel up and down the team leader. He leers at me. I know he wants me and I bat my eyes in an enticing fashion. Not even the Trinidek Red Light pleasure girls can tempt as good as me.

  Zhang pulls me to himself, his right hand across my shoulder.

  “Any more questions?” I ask the man, my voice filled with sarcasm.

  The team leader’s face descends into anger. He glances between Zhang and me. Then he frowns.

  “Do you two have no fucking decency?” he asks.

  “How does that concern you?” Zhang replies.

  I pinch him from behind, but it’s too late. He’s already speaking. Shit. Now he’s going to invite a shitload of questions and possible suspicions. Not suspicions about our link to Armada Intelligence—these guys are too daft to make a connection to that—but suspicions, nonetheless.

  And suspicions of any kind are detrimental to every covert, undercover work. I would know. I’ve been doing this for a long time now.

  The man takes a few step towards us. He doesn’t stop until he is within arm’s reach. The man is huge, way bigger than both of us. His buff hands are folded across his barrel chest. His visage is still marred by anger and it’s as though the scar lights up.

  The next time he speaks, it feels like sharp metal grating another sharp metal.

  “It concerns me because you guys are members of this crew. And if you guys are members of this crew, then you guys report to me. And if you guys report to me, I can’t have you questioning my orders if the other person is in danger.”

  I sense that Zhang wants to spit off a reply. I poke him from behind. I know his response would be half-baked as he’d be trying to find a remedy for the situation he’s put us into. The best thing would be to keep quiet and think through first–for him, of course.

  For me, I know the perfect response.

  “Yes, sir. You’re absolutely right.”

  Then I keep shut.

  The man holds our gaze. I can see he has many more questions to ask us about our “relationship”, so I just answer them for him.

  I pull out myself from Zhang’s embrace.

  “Look, Zhang and I won’t let some off-mission fucking get in the way of anything. A girl has needs and when a girl wants those needs fulfilled, a girl goes to a boy.”

  I motion to Zhang, while smiling at my wittiness.

  “That’s all?” the man asks, hope glinting off his eye.

  I smile at him suggestively. Anything to get the fucker off us.

  “Of course. I mean, it doesn’t always have to be him…”

  The man draws up to his full length.

  “I can invite more than one man to my bed, or choose another entirely,” I purr. I see his pants bulge at the thought.

  Good. I want him to think about me like that. It keeps him from thinking about any potential inconsistencies.

  “Whatever,” the team leader says with a growl, trying to suppress his desire. “We’re being summoned by the Tys. Meet me in the CNC. We’re using the war room.”

  “Roger that, sir.” I wink.

  The man leaves the room, throwing one last shady glance at Zhang’s way.

  “That was intense.” Zhang says, once we’re all alone again.

  I smile at him, remembering the kiss.

  “Yeah, you can say that.”

  I retrieve the cube from beneath the bed and return it to the bag, where it’s secure. No one should be able to break into my bag without my permission. Otherwise, it’ll self-destruct, consuming everything within in laser fire.

  “Wait for me outside,” I tell him. “I want to get off of this outrageous outfit.”

  Zhang leaves the room. I change into a black tight pants and a black vest. I grab my leather jacket and throw it over my body, zipping it up to my neck. The jacket hugs my body very well. Just the way I like it.

  I grab my utility belt, holstering a laser blade on my left and a blaster on my right.

  When I join Zhang outside, he whistles.

  I laugh. “What?”

  “Are you planning on killing anyone?”

  “Not if they plan on killing me,” I reply.

  We find the elevator that takes us straight into the CNC. When we get there, a Tyreesian pulls away from his station and leads us into a small corridor to the side, which deposits us in front of a small doorway.

  “They’re in there, Terran schtika,” the Tyreesian says using a native slur and returns to the Control Center.

  I look at Zhang. He shrugs.

  We both enter the war room.

  I’m taken by the magnitude of the place. It’s twice the size of a Terran CNC, with an elevated battle console that’s about ten yards across. The battle console projects up into the air, filling a large section of the room with a galactic map. It’s almost beautiful.

  The team leader and the remaining nine of us are already in the war room. There are about five high-ranking Tyreesians in the room, including the commander. The commander is on the other side of the war room, talking on the phone with someone who’s on the Tyreesian home world, probably his admiral or some
other superior officer, whatever the chain of command is in the Tyreesian Collective.

  Zhang ambles to where the other nine were in a knot, while I march up to the team leader.

  “Nice of you to join us,” he mumbles, keeping his gaze on the battle console. He and I are on the elevated platform, while Zhang and the rest are down behind us. On the other side, the commander takes his place on the platform, while two other Tyreesians join him.

  “What’s the mission?” the team leader asks.

  The commander converses with his two lieutenants for a while, before looking up to us.

  “We have a new mission for you.”

  Then he pauses.

  No kidding, I thought. In these meetings, I prefer to allow the team leader to actually take the lead.

  “Yes, that’s what you said,” the team leader says.

  The Commander continues, “No doubt, you’ve heard of the Four Powers summit. If not, you soon will. What you don’t know is that the Terran Union is using that planet of that summit to develop FTL 6. Patreus II only supplied a portion of the data. They are doing the main research on this planet.”

  My interest is automatically piqued. I got whiff of such research, but I never really did seek out more information. Not that I couldn’t. It’s just that I don’t bother myself with what the Armada Science is currently researching on. What I’m more interested in is what they’ve been able to create.

  “As you may or may not know,” the lieutenant to the right of the commander speaks up. “All known races currently have the same capability when it comes to faster than light travel. Though we have different names for our drives, our speed capability ends at FTL 5. We believe that the Armada is very close to achieving FTL 6 and we believe that this research is being conducted on this planet we are sending you to.”

  I’m about to ask a question when the other lieutenant, the one on the left of the commander, begins to speak.

  “Since we couldn’t steal the data, then destroying this will be a great boost to us and to your Separatist movement. We will be providing the bomb that you will plant to stop the progress on the upgrades. This bomb is relatively minor and localized, but we need you to attach it to a power conduit in the Terran Union building that the summit is being held at because that’s where the researchers and main offices of FTL 6 development will be. Once tied to a power source, the bomb increases in power exponentially and will destroy the entire Terran Union building. Also, doing this at such a time when there is a summit being held will cause the talks between the Terran Union, the Kurta and The Human Confederation to fail. This will be greatly to your advantage.”

  And to yours, I think. Such an action by the Separatists will not only disrupt the talks or the summit. It will lead to war if Earth sees the influence of the Outer Colonies. A direct attack on an Armada or Union installation is an act of war—the kind that can’t be overlooked.

  It has become obvious to me now that the Tyreesians want war between the Outer Colonies and Earth, which I suppose will draw them more into the Tyreesian orbit. How ingenious! This summit would have been a veritable ground to establish a cooperative agreement. Instead, it may be a prelude to another war

  Bastards, I mutter. Talk about corrupting good intentions.

  The Tyreesians are not Sonali. If they come to the defense of the Outer Colonies, this could be a much bigger blood bath.

  “As long as the Terran Union suffers from this, we’ll plant the bomb,” the team leader says. “What is that planet again? I’ve never heard of this summit.”

  The commander taps a button on the ledge of the battle console and the projection of the galaxy in the air zooms into a portion of the border between the Terran Union and The Human Confederation.

  As soon as I see the small farming planet, my heart skips a beat. I need to pretend this is new info despite everything I know.

  “The planet is Perseus,” the commander says. “Also, you must know that at this summit that representatives from the Tyreesian Collective and the Kurta Colonies are going to be present.”

  “Wait, what?” the team leader says. “You want us to bomb your own people, too?”

  The commander says, “Will that be a problem for you?”

  He shrugs. “If that’s what you want, no problem.”

  I want to turn to Zhang to see what he’s thinking. I hold myself in.

  “One more thing,” the commander says. “Our intelligence service has received information that one of the Tyreesian delegates intends to defect to the Terran Union. We don’t know who. But we know that Terran Armada Intelligence is going to try to help them. Watch out for this defector and take him or her out.”

  As soon as he’s done talking, I feel a cold terror slide down my throat. If these guys know of the defector, then our intelligence instrument is compromised. There’s a spy in the Armada Intelligence.

  The commander dismisses us. The team leader and I hang back to discuss the finer details of the mission. Even though I’m following the planning of the mission, in the darker part of my mind, I conclude that my actual mission is three-fold.

  One, to obtain the teleporter and the defector.

  Two, to plant the bomb.

  Three, to find that fucking mole and take him out.

  Chapter 7

  No One

  The next day, the warship drops out of FTL space about half a day outside of Perseus. While the warship has been sent by the Tyreesian government as part of the diplomatic convoy along with half a dozen other ships and soldiers carrying the Tyreesian flag, the captain doesn’t want to risk the chance of the Terran Armada discovering our true mission. He tells us that, according to Tyreesian delegates already on ground in Perseus, the entire place is crawling with Marines and Armada officials.

  There’s a hovering spaceport around the planet, where all vessels must present themselves for checking before being allowed to land in the main ports on the ground.

  “That’s a lot of security for some blasted summit involving aliens on a fucking farming world,” the team leader said afterwards, when we were going through the final details of our plan.

  I reply to him. “Don’t forget, this planet isn’t just a farming colony. It’s actually the base of a high-level Armada research facility. And if they’re researching about FTL 6, then you better be sure that there will be serious security there, both on land and in space.”

  “How can you be certain?” he asks.

  “Because I’ve worked for the Armada before,” I reply. “I know how they work. I know how they function. I don’t think they’ve changed much since I abandoned them.”

  He then sighs.

  “So, we're basically going against a fortress?”

  I don’t answer that question.

  Now, I’m in the shuttle deck, where another small corvette is waiting for us. I’m the first to arrive, while a few of the men arrive later. They are dressed to the teeth with all sorts of weapons. Zhang comes in next, after which the team leader. They are all equipped and ready.

  The team leader points to Zhang. “You.”

  Zhang looks up and stiffens.

  “You will be piloting the ship.”

  “Ok, sir,” Zhang replies.

  The team leader addresses us.

  “This mission is going to be very dangerous. Stay sharp and shoot straight.”

  He pauses. “Let’s go do this.”

  Zhang leads the way into the corvette. It’s the same corvette we used at Patreus III, only the Tyreesians have changed almost everything. The color, the signal sign, the model number and everything that can electronically tie us to what people are calling the massacre of Patreus III. Yes, we have become the most wanted galactic terrorists in the entire Terran Union.

  Zhang, the team leader, and I take up positions in the cockpit, with Zhang taking the pilot seat. The rest of the team strap in, in the small den outside the cockpit.

  I lean forward and say, “Boss, I have a bad feeling about this mission.�
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  “Why?” he replies. “You helped plan it.”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t plan on using the same ship that’s tied to our work in Patreus III,” I say.

  Zhang fires up the engines, and the vessel trembles alive. He begins his preflight check, communicating with the warship’s communications and navigations officer and downloading required data for the trip.

  “They cleaned up the ship,” he replies, “at least that’s what they say. Zhang, can you confirm that this is in fact a different ship from what we used the last time…electronically?”

  Zhang mutes the comm and says, “It’s different.”

  Then he returns to the comms.

  The team leader looks at me.

  “I know it’s different,” I say, “but it’s the same frame of vessel. It’s the same class of vehicle. Those security officers will definitely take a liking to us because they know that everything we’ve done to this vessel can be done. They may not want to discount the possibility, considering the fact that this is an inter-species summit.”

  “We have no other choice,” he says. “It’s either this or we don’t go at all. We didn’t have time to refit the matter transport platform onto another vessel.”

  I shrug.

  “I just don’t like it.”

  “You don’t have to like it,” the team leader replies with a finality in his voice. “You just have to get it done.”

  I lean back into my seat.

  Zhang says, “We’ve gotten permission to take off.”

  At that moment, two things happen. The door of the shuttle bay begins to open and the vessel lifts off into the air. There is a containment shield at the exit way into space that prevents the vacuum from sucking out all the air in the shuttle bay.

  Zhang guided the corvette out. The moment we go outside, he engages the FTL drive and we vanish into space. We spend the most part of the twelve hours we have poring over our plans. We weren’t able to get a detailed floor plan of the facility in the planet, so we were basically planning for eventualities rather than working on a particular plan.