Naturally, almost every citizen in the wider Unity League - bar a few deranged nu-hippy types who, in spite of all evidence to the contrary, persisted with their belief that every species in the universe was basically good - felt the same way, so Stone wasn’t unusual except that he was required to deal with the spindly, vile monstrosities on a regular basis. The Ragger type of spindly, vile monstrosities, rather than the nu-hippy type.
Three hours and ten minutes had passed since Stone last spoke to Riviss-Uld-95 and the Ragger showed no indication he was planning to appear on the vid-feed. The table in front of Stone was piled with paper documents and portable data storage devices, designed to give the appearance that he was serious about exchanging technology.
And the Ragger bastard didn’t even bother sending a half-assed excuse for Stone to pour scorn onto.
“Screw this,” said Stone. He made to rise and then thought better of it.
Another five minutes.
The only person Stone was fooling was himself and he was doing a terrible job of it. In a way, either intentionally or unintentionally, Riviss-Uld-95 had called Stone’s bluff. The Ragger had asserted its control over the situation without a doubt. Stone was now pushed into a corner where he’d either be required to betray how desperately the Unity League required the Ragger tech – something which Riviss-Uld-95 would take full advantage of – or he’d have to throw himself even deeper into the game and see if he could turn it around.
Or I could blow the crap out of their fleet and hope to capture a few intact stealth modules afterwards.
It was a tempting thought and becoming progressively more tempting with each passing minute. Capturing some intact stealth modules wasn’t outside the realms of possibility, but Stone didn’t know if the human and Fangrin scientists could use them to amplify the death pulse generator properly. He’d been told it was likely the Ragger modules would require modification and that successful modification was reliant on the alliance getting its hands on the underlying technological know-how.
Which left the mission to Hul-J5. It was in the best of hands, but reliant on luck and patched-together copies of the Ragger stealth tech. Worse – it was possible that the intel which created a trail to Hul-J5 could be out of date, misinterpreted or just plain wrong.
Stone could not remember a moment when the travel time of a comms signal left him feeling more frustrated.
Four minutes later, he rose and exited the room, leaving the blank viewscreen as a mocking testament of Riviss-Uld-95’s minor victory. The bridge wasn’t far and when Stone came through the blast doors, he caught many of his crew watching him surreptitiously.
“No luck,” said Commander Blackwood. It wasn’t even a question – the look on Stone’s face and his demeanor gave the game away.
“The asshole didn’t even show. Didn’t respond to the comms either.”
Stone looked about and found Captain Dyer nearby, waiting for the summons.
“We need a new plan,” said Stone. “I know the options, but kindly run through them again in case I’ve overlooked something.”
“We launch a surprise attack, we head for home, or we see what comes from the delay.”
The corner of Stone’s mouth twitched upwards. “I hadn’t overlooked anything, then.”
“Before you decide, you should speak to the Raggers again, sir. If you can get Riviss-Uld-95 on the comms, maybe you can put him on the spot. Apply some pressure,” said Dyer, pronouncing the Ragger’s name as Roo-Nine-Five.
“I’m not convinced I can make it work,” said Stone. “That’s me being realistic.”
“It costs nothing to try.”
“Except my pride,” Stone responded dryly. “Very well.” He got the attention of Lieutenant Dowd. “I want a comms link to Riviss-Uld-95. Don’t take no for an answer.”
“I’ll do what I can, sir.”
A couple of the sensor team were suddenly looking agitated, which in turn got Stone worried. He approached so that he could listen without disturbing them. Lieutenant Roden turned at his approach.
“We’ve got an energy reading from that cylindrical spaceship, sir. They’re trying to keep it hidden, but we’re watching them too closely.”
“What kind of energy reading?” asked Stone sharply. “A weapon?”
“I don’t know, sir. We’re analyzing.”
“Admiral Isental’s team have detected it as well, sir,” said Lieutenant Todd Swain, another of the Defiant’s comms operators.
“Shit,” Stone muttered to himself. He lifted his voice and gave a warning for the crew to be vigilant. The Defiant was on full alert already, but a good commanding officer made sure his or her crew were on their toes.
“I’ll liaise with Admiral Isental, sir,” said Swain. “Could be the Hantisar sensors we have fitted to the Defiant aren’t gathering all the data. So far, we’re drawing blanks.”
Stone walked quickly to his own station and stared at the tactical. The behavior of the Ragger fleet hadn’t overtly changed, which only served to make him more convinced they were up to something.
“The energy reading has gone, sir,” said Roden suddenly. “It lasted exactly sixty seconds and then disappeared.”
“What the hell are they playing at?” Stone wondered.
“Riviss-Uld-95 is on the comms,” said Dowd. “Open channel?”
“Please.”
The connection formed and Stone didn’t give his enemy counterpart the chance to speak first.
“What is the nature of that cylindrical spaceship?” he asked.
“It has no nature to speak of,” said the Ragger.
“We detected a sustained, unexpected energy reading from its hull.”
“And your much-vaunted new sensors couldn’t tell you what it was?” mocked Riviss-Uld-95.
Stone felt his fists clenching unconsciously and he took a deep, steadying breath. “I want to hear it from you.”
“You will hear nothing, human. That spaceship is here, the same way your spaceships are here.”
“Our fleet has come to Indul-L9 for a peaceful exchange of technology. I am not surprised to find the Raggers came with different intentions.”
“Where is the demonstration of a hostile act?” said the Ragger soothingly. “I see no damaged warships on either side.”
“My patience has run dry, Ragger. You have one final chance to exchange technology. I will return to the meeting room where I waited for your arrival, in full expectation that you would prove untrustworthy. If I do not see your face on the screen in fifteen minutes from now, our negotiations are over.”
“My spaceship is large. The only suitable place for me to speak with you is twenty minutes from here.”
“Fifteen minutes,” said Stone. “That’s my last word on the subject.” He made a cutting motion across his neck with the flat of his hand. Lieutenant Dowd got the message and closed the channel.
The Defiant’s meeting room was less than a minute away, leaving Stone with approximately fourteen minutes before he was required to exit the bridge.
“Do you think the enemy will play ball?” asked Commander Blackwood.
“I don’t know. I really don’t know.” Stone grimaced. “That asshole is up to something. I can feel it in my bones.” Once again, he raised his voice so that everyone could hear. “I want to know what the hell that cylinder ship is here for. Check for anything unexpected on our internal systems and whatever you find – I don’t care how small and insignificant – tell me or Commander Blackwood about it. Make sure every other ship in the fleet does likewise.”
The activity increased noticeably above its already high level of intensity. Stone ignored the sound. This entire mission was on the precipice and the only person able to make the next decision was him.
“Get me Admiral Isental.”
A moment later, a harsh Fangrin voice cut through the noise on the bridge.
“You have come to a realization.”
“I shouldn’t be surprised to fin
d you understand me so well.”
That brought a roar of laughter. “You are backed into a corner, human. The Ragger has made a mistake by leaving you with no other way to escape.”
“Has he made a mistake?” asked Stone, suddenly worried. “Or maybe he wanted this all along.”
“It matters little. This stalemate cannot persist.”
“No.” Stone sucked in the cold air of the bridge and told Isental the details he hadn’t already guessed. “I’ve given Riviss-Uld-95 one final chance to make the exchange. If it doesn’t happen, we’re going home. Before that happens, we’ll turn every single one of those Ragger spaceships into molten scrap.”
“This is the only way, human. I am glad you have seen it in time.”
Stone checked the bridge clock. “Ten minutes and we’ll find out which way it’ll play. In the meantime, I’m ordering the fleet to prepare for a surprise attack.”
“The enemy will know what is coming the moment your meeting ends in failure.”
“That depends on how convincingly I can lie through my teeth.”
“It does not come easily for you, the same as it is for the Fangrin. The Raggers see it as a weakness of our biology, while I have always counted it as a strength.”
Stone agreed, but he didn’t have time to speak on the subject. “Listen out for the comms, Admiral Isental, and hope this works out for all of our sakes.”
“Good luck, human.”
Stone paced for eight minutes, during which the cylindrical spaceship remained inactive and his crew discovered nothing that shed light on the recent energy emission. He spoke briefly to Commander Blackwood and ordered her to prepare the Defiant for an engagement.
“The Viper crews are ready to go, sir.”
“Good.”
Stone left, beckoning Captain Dyer to follow, while Dr Austin came of her own accord.
“Wait outside,” he ordered.
Moments later, Stone was sitting in the same chair as last time, staring at a blank screen. Fifteen minutes after his warning to Riviss-Uld-95, the screen was still blank. Stone kept staring, knowing the Ragger was likely to make him wait a few seconds.
Thirty seconds after the fifteen minutes had elapsed, the screen obtained a feed and lit up. It remained low-resolution for a short while and then the blocky edges became sharp.
On the far end of the link, Riviss-Uld-95 sat alone in a room, not entirely dissimilar to the one in which Stone was sitting. The Raggers seemed to become more repulsive with familiarity, rather than less, and Stone would have happily shot this one in the head with a heavy tank shell had he been able.
“You are here as we agreed,” said the Ragger.
Stone ignored the comment and lifted one of the data arrays. “Our tech for your tech. I will speak the terms and you will listen to them.” He took a breath. “An exchange onboard a mutually agreed vessel, to take place within two hours and involving no more than fifty personnel from each side. This exchange will not require my presence or your presence. Following the exchange, both parties are permitted a period of three hours to study the data and confirm its validity. No copies will be taken of the data during this process. Once the three hours has elapsed, the deal is done or it is not done. No revisiting. Should the deal conclude successfully, one ship from each fleet is permitted to depart this solar system with the data. Fifteen minutes later, the other ships from both sides do likewise.”
“Agreed,” said Riviss-Uld-95 at once. “I will choose one of my non-combat vessels for an exchange which will happen at the precise mid-point between the closest two of our respective fleets.”
Stone hid his surprise. There was nothing onerous or unfair in his terms, but the Raggers always wanted something extra. The rapid acceptance made Stone suspicious, like he’d overlooked a flaw in his terms and Riviss-Uld-95 had pounced on it.
“Fine,” he said at last. “I have the data and the validation teams ready and will send them to you in a shuttle which is able to couple with your chosen vessel.”
“Our meeting here is finished,” said the Ragger, making no effort to stand. “Compliant arrangements will be made.”
Stone didn’t stand either and he had one final warning to offer. “This is it, Ragger. Now or never. For the good of both our species, don’t piss me off.”
With that, he touched one of the buttons on the desktop console in front of him, terminating the feed. Stone felt curiously calm and he exited the room.
Once on the bridge, he let his crew know the outcome, uncertain what the reaction would be.
“I guess I’m speaking for everyone when I say I’ll believe it when I see it, sir,” said Commander Blackwood. “As much as we want this to work out.”
“If it goes wrong, we’ll kill the bastards,” said Stone. “No ifs or buts.”
“Sir, I’ve received the name of the spaceship for the exchange,” said Lieutenant Dowd.
“Show me it on the feed.”
“You aren’t going to believe it, sir. Screen 8.”
Screen 8 held a feed which hadn’t changed since it first locked onto its target.
“Z020,” said Stone. “The cylinder.”
Words left him, though his feeling of profound suspicion did not. The Raggers never stopped maneuvering for advantage and Stone was certain this was all just another move in a game which the enemy was increasingly in control of.
Chapter Fifteen
Having walked around sixty percent of the Ragger dome, Conway was resigned to the fact that he’d either guessed the wrong way, or the place lacked a conventional door. The structure was a complete mystery and the proximity of the trees and undergrowth gave a surreal edge to the journey. Having discovered a total of nine chain gun emplacements – none of which had opened fire – the squad was ready to accept that the stealth tech was worth the minor hassle of dealing with the eggheads on the Juniper.
Not everyone was happy.
“I think I’d prefer someplace without all these trees,” said Private Berg.
“What?” asked Torres, stretching out the pronunciation and imbuing it with a level of sarcasm that had several of the soldiers chuckling in anticipation.
“They keep getting in the way,” explained Berg. “It’d be far easier if this was all flat rock. And we’d be able to see the emplacements better.”
“You’ve been promising us a tropical paradise since forever and you’re sick of it after an hour?”
“Your vision of a tropical paradise might involve alien research domes and forests without wildlife, Torres, but mine involves drinking cocktails in a hammock swinging gently between two palm trees.”
“And you thought that was going to happen in the ULAF?”
“No – you thought that was going to happen. I offered you an unachievable dream and you wanted it so much you believed in it.”
“Berg, I hope you get shot in the ass.”
“Ain’t going to happen, sweetheart.”
Berg’s mock patronizing statement brought out a flood of insults from Torres’ mouth, all of them new, original and surprisingly inventive. So impressive was the display that several members of the squad spoke of their admiration.
Conway let them talk, though he kept a close eye on the soldiers to make sure their attention didn’t wander too much from the mission. His previous calmness was eroding, leaving him increasingly agitated about the passing time. Conway requested a channel to the Raider.
“What can I do for you, Captain?” asked Kenyon.
“Hoping for news is all.”
“None to tell.”
“Is that good or bad?”
“On balance, probably good.”
Conway left the channel. A variation in the dome’s structure up ahead had caught his eye and he came to a halt before dropping into a half-crouch.
“What’s up?” asked Lester from somewhere further back.
“Not sure. Best stay down.”
Conway crouched deeper into the undergrowth so that only his head
was showing.
“Something’s sticking out from the side of the dome,” he said.
“I see it,” said Lieutenant Rembra nearby.
“Vicher, Gundo, you’re coming with me. The rest of you hold.”
Accompanied by the two Fangrin, Conway advanced, staying low in the foliage. The wall of the dome was about twenty meters to his right and the target of his interest was eighty meters ahead.
“Another emplacement,” growled Vicher.
Conway saw it too and diverted closer to the dome. This chain gun, like the others before it, wasn’t equipped with a sensor capable of penetrating the stealth and it didn’t track or fire at the soldiers. They crept by and soon obtained a better sight of what had got Conway’s interest.
A metal tunnel protruded ten meters from the dome’s wall. This tunnel was a half-cylinder and its highest point was about four meters from the ground.
“That’s got to be a way in,” said Conway.
From this angle, none of the soldiers could see the end of the tunnel to confirm if it contained a door. The three of them watched for a few seconds. It was as still as everywhere else.
“I’ll speak to the Raider.”
A moment later, Lieutenant Kenyon opened the requested channel.
“You’ve found something, Captain?”
“Maybe. Are you able to scan the area we’re currently located? Looks like there might be a way in.”
“We can’t scan through those trees without coming in real close and we didn’t pick anything up from that area when we approached for deployment. You’ll have to do the recon on foot.”
“Roger that.”
Conway rose to his feet and waved the two Fangrin to follow. They made cautious progress towards the tunnel, choosing a course that gave them a better view.
“A door,” said Gundro.
The tunnel ended with a semicircular door, which was currently closed. With no sign of hostile activity, Conway advanced far enough that he could see the cracked and broken concrete leading up to the door. Trees had forced their way up through the road and smaller plants had taken root amongst the gaps.
Scum of the Universe (Fire and Rust Book 7) Page 11
