“Also, we now know why they’re here. The Besquith operation is being led by General Betreth. Apparently, we killed his son on a contract a few years ago, and this whole thing—this contract and even the Merchant Guild’s plan to put a base here—was all part of his larger plan for revenge on the Golden Horde. Of note, I believe it quite likely the general is still in their base.”
Sansar jaw dropped open. “All of this? This was all just to get revenge against the Golden Horde?”
Markus nodded. “In a nutshell, yes. There’s not a lot more, but I imagine he’s been working on this for quite a while.”
Sansar thought for a moment, going back through her files on the mission—what they knew and what they didn’t. “Wait a minute, though. What about the list of things we intercepted that belonged to Asbaran Solutions?”
“Good question, ma’am,” Markus said with a smile. “General Betreth knew that if things went badly for him here, you would likely do something like what I believe you’re contemplating now—calling in Asbaran to go down into his hole after him. He wanted to make sure that the majority of the company was unavailable if you came looking for them as subcontractors.”
“So, they may not be available?”
“According to the information on the slate, no, they shouldn’t be able to put together much of a force to come here at the moment.”
Sansar nodded. At least things were starting to come together and make sense. “I assume you have all this information packaged up?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He slid a data chip across the table. “That’s everything whoever assaults the base will need to navigate, know where the choke points are, et cetera.”
“Well done, Spartan.” She tilted her head. “I have a feeling you have something else up your sleeve.”
“As it happens, I do. If I can get close enough, using this slate, I can hack into their main control system and get everything there as well…but I’d have to be very close. Direct access would be best.”
Both Sansar and Major King shook their heads. “Sorry, Spartan. That’s too risky,” Sansar pointed out.
Markus shrugged. “I’m just letting you know what’s possible, ma’am.”
“Okay,” Sansar stood. “I’ve convinced the Zuparti to contract with Asbaran for the assault. If they aren’t available, I’ll get permission for the next best unit that’s available. A Zuparti transport should be entering the system any day now with more of their personnel and materials. It will land, unload, and then I’ll be accompanying them to Earth so I can personally deliver the intelligence we have. Major King and Major Enkh will handle the rest of the contract. Spartan, keep working on your Hoplite project as best you can, with what we have.”
Everyone stood. “Thank you, ma’am,” Markus said with a nod.
* * *
After the meeting, Markus decided to head over to the warehouse to check the repair progress on the Hoplite, and he was pleasantly surprised when he got there. Specialist Kawa was just climbing down from the maintenance rack and smiled.
“Just finished up, Lieutenant. She’s ready for another round of tests. We’ve been looking through all the data, and we honestly can’t explain the power problem. It doesn’t make any sense. All the math says that we should have at least 18 hours of run time, even with the full sensor load.”
Markus nodded. He had reviewed the data as well, and he’d come to the same conclusion. All the simulations pointed to the power regulation being perfect.
Hobo and Volk came out from behind the CASPer. Volk headed over toward another mech, and Hobo walked up to join Markus and Kawa. “We’ll have it ready by morning. We’ve spent the day going over every power connection to make sure there’s no problems, and everything meets specs.”
“Okay, let’s get the team together at first light. I’ll take it out for a test run, and we’ll see if we can isolate the problem. At least we shouldn’t have any more Besquith issues.”
* * * * *
Chapter Twenty-Four
Kelfor-6, Zuparti Base
Things stabilized over the next few weeks at the base. The Besquith stayed in their hole, with a squad of CASPers on guard to make sure they did. Until their supplies ran out or another Besquith ship showed up to reinforce/resupply them, the status quo reigned.
The Zuparti transport arrived and landed on schedule, and the Zuparti were able to confirm the landing pad was ready to start accepting traffic. More materials were delivered, and additional warehouses were constructed. Sansar accompanied the transport off-planet to Earth via Karma, along with the CASPers that were too badly damaged to be repaired on Kelfor-6. The Jeha left also; they had completed their contract and were going to be dropped off at Karma.
Meanwhile, testing continued on the Hoplite, though the team was still unable to resolve the power drain issue. “Okay folks,” Markus said to the gathered team. “I’ve programmed in some detailed diagnostics for this run. It’ll provide constant energy consumption telemetry back to the terminal here during the test. You’ll be able to tell where every amp of energy is going at every moment. We have to find the problem.”
Everyone nodded and got ready. Markus sealed himself into the CASPer and headed out as he had almost every day for the past weeks, determined to solve the issue. Once he was outside the gate, he opened the comm channel back to his team.
“Okay, everyone set? Are the readings coming in?”
“All good, Spartan,” Specialist Kawa answered. “Go ahead and turn them on.”
“Here we go.” Markus activated the full sensor suite of the CASPer and noticed an odd signature on the right hand. He raised his hand and chuckled to himself. It was the last dragonfly drone, resting on the back of his hand.
“Thought it might bring us some luck,” Kawa said over the comm.
“Thanks, Kawa. Here’s hoping.” Markus verified the sensor settings and started a run around the outside of the fortifications. It was a two-fold exercise. He got in a good workout, and it pushed the power usage of the CASPer to the max. He would get an occasional wave from the troopers around the walls, who had taken to watching and timing his laps around the fortification. There was a bet going on whether he could beat his best time today or not.
About half way around, Kawa sounded concerned. “Sir…I’m getting some really weird readings here. Are you sure the sensors aren’t interfering with the telemetry?”
Markus responded, puzzled. “Positive. It’s a completely different transmission band…what kind of weird readings?”
“Sir…the levels are ramping up. Fast.”
Without warning he heard Hobo’s voice yelling over the comms. “Eject, eject, eject!”
Without even thinking, Markus stopped in his tracks and hit the canopy emergency jettison. He jumped out of the cockpit and ran away from it, and away from the wall. He didn’t know why Hobo made that call, but it wasn’t a call you ignored. “What’s going on Hobo?” he asked once he was clear.
“Just run, Spartan!” Hobo urged.
The Hoplite exploded like it had been hit with a missile. Markus dove for the ground and balled himself up to give as small a profile as possible as debris rained down on him.
Simultaneously, the terminal in the hangar that the group had been gathered around began sparking and burst into flames. The team scattered, and a technician unplugged it then sprayed it with an extinguisher. Several slates in the area that belonged to the team also started smoldering and caught fire, and several people had to jettison belts or other equipment holders they were mounted on or risk having their clothes catch fire.
In the Golden Horde’s barracks area, a smoke alarm in Markus’ quarters activated, and passing troopers kicked in the door to find there had been an explosion in the room. Several pieces of gear were on fire, and they ran for extinguishers to put them out.
Outside the fortifications, Markus stood as the rain of burning debris ended, and he looked around. “Okay, what the fuck?”
Hobo answered, “
No idea, Spartan. We’re sending a truck out to get you. You’re not going to believe this shit. We’ll talk when you get back inside. Are you okay?”
“Other than needing a shower, yeah, I’m fine.”
Markus looked around as what was left of his project burned and smoldered around him. A large piece of armor had fallen near him—a few inches to the left, and it would have imbedded itself in him. He shook his head as he looked closer; the armor panel was the door to a leg compartment. Although badly mangled, he could still make out some of the names Volk had inscribed on the armor.
He sighed. “Sorry, troopers,” he said, shaking his head. “I tried.”
He stared at the names until the truck arrived to pick him up. Volk hopped out of the truck and ran over. “You okay, Spartan?”
He nodded. “Help me with this.”
They loaded the scorched and mangled piece of armor plating into the truck and headed back into the base.
* * *
Asbaran Solutions HQ, Houston, TX, Earth
Colonel Sargon Shirazi, commander of Asbaran Solutions, met Sansar as she walked into his outer office. “Good to see you,” he said, “although I doubt you would have come to Houston just to report good news.”
“I have news,” Sansar said, “and I could use your help. Is there somewhere we can talk?”
Shirazi ushered her into his office and directed her to a seat. “Now, what can I do to assist the head of the Golden Horde?”
Sansar gave him a wan smile. “You could kill some Besquith for me.”
“Sounds like fun,” Shirazi replied. “There are few things I like more than killing aliens.” He smiled. “One of those, though, is getting paid. Is there a paycheck attached to these Besquith, or is this something I’m going to do gratis for you?”
“Oh, there’s pay in it all right, although I don’t know whether you’ll be able to take it on. Still, I wanted to offer it to you first.”
Shirazi smiled. “This sounds complicated. Why don’t you start at the beginning, and we’ll see where we end.”
“Do you remember when I contacted you about the lists of gear we found?”
Shirazi’s smile faded. “Yes. Please tell me the leak isn’t still occurring. We have taken a number of measures—”
Sansar waved a hand, interrupting him. “No, you’re fine. We haven’t seen anything more since then.” Shirazi nodded, placated. “We have, however, found out who was doing it, and why.”
Shirazi leaned forward, a fierce gleam in his eyes. “Do tell.”
“Several years ago, the Golden Horde killed the son of a Besquith general known as Betreth. Apparently, this general is both rich and powerful, and he did not take well to his son’s premature passing, despite the fact that it was his son who attacked us.”
“So, he got what was coming to him. Attack the Horde, get the horn.”
Sansar gave him a half-smile. “Something like that, yes. In any event, the general decided to embark on a strategy of revenge, and the communications traffic we intercepted was part of that plan. Not only did he want to lure us to a planet where he could surprise and kill us all, he wanted to do it at a time when neither you nor Cartwright’s Cavaliers could come and help us. Apparently, there was message traffic on the Cavaliers, like what we intercepted of yours, but we missed it.”
“Aha! A flaw in the Golden Horde’s monitoring systems!” Shirazi exclaimed with a smile.
Sansar shrugged. “Even we aren’t perfect, and if they looked like the Cavaliers’ transmissions, we would have ignored them as a professional courtesy. Regardless, we were able to figure out Betreth’s plan in time, and when he attacked, we were ready for him and soundly defeated him.”
“Congratulations,” Shirazi said, “although I would have expected nothing less. If he is defeated, though, why are you here?”
“Because ‘soundly defeated’ isn’t the same as ‘totally destroyed.’ Betreth and some of his troops went down into a tunnel system and haven’t come out in the month since. We can’t let him go, as I don’t want to have a repeat of this, but our gear isn’t optimized for hunting wolves underground.”
“And you want us to do it for you.”
“No, I want to hire you as a subcontractor to do it for us. The Zuparti we’re working for have increased our payday to take care of the nest, so they don’t emerge when we leave.”
“There is a saying in my country—eventually justice serves he who is deserving. It sounds like it is time for us to bring justice to this Betreth, and so we shall! Although I am just about to leave on the Moorhouse contract you saw the paperwork for, my son just brought back one of our companies early from a contract, and he’s available. And killing aliens and getting paid? We’re always happy to do that!”
* * *
Kelfor-6, Zuparti Base
Markus and his team, with the addition of Majors King and Enkh and Lieutenant Quinn, sat in a meeting room after getting back inside the walls. Markus hadn’t bothered to clean up; his face was a mask as he stared at the table. Even though the majors were present, it was still his team.
Markus looked up from the table and focused on each person in the room one by one. “What the hell happened?”
There was a mixture of shrugs and muttered responses. No one seemed to want to look him directly in the eye.
Markus looked at O’Borne. “Hobo…you saw it coming, what did you see?”
“Power levels seemed like they were climbing way too fast, and I saw the cooling system wasn’t kicking in like it should. My guess is that the battery or power plant overheated and went critical. If we hadn’t had that improved telemetry you wrote…” He shrugged.
Kawa leaned forward. “What about the terminal and the slates? That makes no sense!”
The room was silent until Major King furrowed her brow and raised a finger. “Spartan, I just got word there was a fire in your quarters…You had a slate in a secure case?”
Markus nodded, and stood. “Yeah…One I had custom made.”
She motioned him to sit. “Well, looks like it decided to burn up too. It blew the case open and set fire to the room. They’ve got it out, but your slate is nothing but a melted mess.”
“Well shit! Major Enkh, you will probably want to have a full diagnostic run on every piece of equipment we have. Sounds like some kind of virus…Something like I would write if I wanted to eliminate any trace of something.”
She nodded. “Already being done, Spartan.”
“Okay folks,” Markus sighed and shrugged. “I’m lost here. None of this makes sense. I’ve never heard of a slate melting down, or a CASPer just overheating, or a data terminal randomly catching on fire. I mean…it can be done with the right code at the right time, but it’s a hell of a stretch for all that to happen in the same place. Ideas?”
Major King stood up. “I doubt you’re going to figure this out in the next hour. Spartan, go get a shower, get some food. A few troopers are getting your gear moved to new quarters. Lieutenant Quinn, make sure the rest of the CASPers are checked out. Specialist Kawa, have your team assist in a full software check of all the mechs. Then let’s review the software that was in the Hoplite and figure out what happened.”
Markus shook his head. “We can’t. Every slate that had the software on it just burned up. The code is gone. Gone. This isn’t over, though.” He turned and walked out of the room, pulling the door closed softly behind him.
King frowned and shook her head. “Okay then, everyone go; let’s worry about what we can control for now. Also, I just got word that Asbaran has arrived in-system. They’ll be landing within the day.”
* * *
Markus watched from the wall as the Asbaran Solutions dropships landed. The troopers emerged, got organized, and headed straight out to take care of business. He figured the Besquith problem would be solved within a few hours. As he turned to look out over the walls, thinking that it really wasn’t a bad view, he got a comm request from Major King.
�
�Yes, ma’am?”
“Come on in, Spartan. We have new orders for you from HQ.”
“On my way.”
He made his way down and jogged over to the command center to find Major King waiting for him. She motioned him to join her in the conference room and closed the door behind them.
“Colonel Enkh sent your orders. You’re heading home, Spartan. You and your squad…which is now officially your squad, by the way. Asbaran will give you a lift when they’re done, so you probably have a day or two to get ready. Your project team will be going back, too, as the project is…well…done for now.”
Markus sighed and nodded. “Yes, ma’am, we’ll be ready.”
* * *
Kelfor-6, Mouth of the Besquith Tunnels
Farhad Shirazi looked at the schematics of the tunnel system and smiled. The Besquith had been down there with over a month to prepare, but he outnumbered them and had a map of their warrens.
“First Platoon, forward!” he commed, gesturing at the mouth of the tunnel. “Go to the split and take up positions there.” Twenty CASPers, most with rockets, entered the tunnels, checking for traps as they went. “No need to hurry,” Farhad added. “We’ve got all the time in the world to bury them here.”
“Second Platoon, once they are in position, we will go past them, taking the left tunnel. If you see something, fire a rocket at it. We have plenty of rockets and K-bombs to spare, and the Besquith aren’t going anywhere. If we need to go back to the dropship to get more, we will.”
“Are we going to give them a chance to surrender?” First Sergeant Arash Najafi asked as Farhad started forward with Second Platoon.
With Your Shield Page 23
