Chapter 33
Mars Colony, Earth Alliance.
The small fleet had attracted a lot of attention during its trek from the transfer point at Io all the way into Martian orbit gathering a tail of civilian ships and curious spectators. Paul Calendar didn't really blame them, he doubted many people had ever seen the after affects of a battle and the scarred and torn hulls of the Belt Alliance escort ships would be a fascinating sight and something they could share at after dinner conversations for months to come. It was an abstract thought to imagine wealthy ship owners casually discussing the damage to the fleet without ever fully understanding what trauma the crews had gone through in the process, and that some of the fleet had not returned home.
Captain Grozny kept a close watch on the small group of Earth Alliance warships shadowing them from a respectful distance, a pair of heavy cruisers which had followed the battered ships from Io all the way to the Belt Alliance ship yards and maintenance facilities orbiting above Mars Dome One. The Captain had already sent word of their condition and the yards were fully staffed and ready to receive the ships, the wounded crew had already been dropped off at Io.
"You'd almost get the feeling they didn't trust us." He said watching the Earth Force cruisers. "Like we needed an armed escort to Mars after all we've been through." He snorted sadly and looked down. "Like we would to shoot at anybody after all that."
Paul thought back to Brakir, they had come within minutes of destruction and it was a matter of incredible luck the planet was still holding out, though he didn't have hope they would last for much longer.
"Earth Alliance never really trusted us." Grozny said with dull anger and resentment, but it soon passed again into grief. "They just see us as little more than a nuisance, space truckers in grimy ships and working for greed."
"They didn't see us at Brakir." Paul stated. "That would have made them think twice."
It was no secret the main Earth Force military looked down on the Belt Alliance, although it had not always been so. Early on after first contact both groups had worked together to develop the infrastructure and technology needed to secure the Sol system from the suddenly emerging alien threat. New fighter and weapon designs had been developed but then a change in Earth Force priorities had set the two groups in different directions. This was epitomised by the Starfury program, something the Belt Alliance were refused access to at first. Earth ships grew larger and more powerful while the Belt alliance charter limited their protection fleets to tiny escorts, without the resources to match EA development they found themselves using old and cast off technology from Earth Force, most in the EA senate doubted the Belters would be around much longer and that the EA would have full authority over civilian shipping.
The Senators had not counted on the tenacity of the Belt Alliance. Denied new weapons and technology that had found ways to improve on their existing items. Denied Starfuries they had cobbled together their own copies, the Starfox fighter which was as good as the early models of the famous fighter. They had built their own bases, set up their own infrastructure and laid their own training programmes for ship crews. They were not Earth Force, but they were a quietly determined and stalwart group who knew when to take a stand.
"Belt Alliance Gunboat Guardian, you are clear for docking slip three." A light female voice spoke on the bridge speakers. "The Executives welcome you back and are thankful for your safe return. They offer their condolences for the losses and will prepare a full debriefing."
Grozny grunted. "They should never have sent us in the first place."
"Maybe." Paul agreed in part. "But we did good out there, we helped defend a planetful of innocent people. That has to count for something."
"I lost over a hundred people." Grozny replied flatly. "It might mean something to you but it means absolutely nothing to me."
In silence the ship moved into the dock, a structure of girders open front and back attached to a slowly spinning station through a central axis. The rest of the fleet set up elsewhere falling into their prearranged slips and coming to a relative stop allowing docking tubes to clamp onto the wounded ships and let the crews finally leave. Paul held onto a nearby hand hold as the retro thrusters activated and the ship jolted roughly coming to a stop, Earth ships weren't exactly known for their subtle controls and handling.
"Cut engines." Grozny ordered. There was a faint clump as docking ports latched ont the gunship and boarding tubes sealed over the airlocke in the outer hull. On the main display boards the lights went green showing it was no safe to leave the ship. "Wind down main power, switch over to batteries and open the airlocks." Grozny rattled off. "Home sweet home."
Paul exited with the rest of the crew propelling himself down the zero gravity docking tubes via the hand holds on either side. They were surprisingly quiet as they left the ship, most crews arriving at a base were extremely garrulous chatting constantly about the local night life, good bars or the more reputable casino's where they could win or lose an entire trips pay. But not today, today they were alone with their thoughts and memories. The spirit in them was quelled by the ordeal they had survived, it was as if they were not simply happy to be home, but relieved and eternally grateful.
They arrived in the stations central core and loaded themselves into elevators a half dozen at a time, Paul and Grozny sharing the same car. Again there was silence as the elevator headed outwards slowly towards the outer ring of the docking facility. The car had to travel slowly to give the crews a chance to adjust to gravity, from zero gravity at the centre of the station out to a standard 1g of simulated gravity caused by the centripedal force of the stations rotation. Paul kept his feet touching the floor and gradually became aware of the weight returning to his body, letting his leg muscles take the strain again and flexing his arms to get used to the feeling. He had spent most of his life on ships or stations and apart from a memorable journey on a Centauri liner he had gone through this adjustment to regular gravity after each journey, by now he was used to it.
The Elevator stopped and opened its doors onto the dull looking corridor which lead to customs. Everyone entering the station had to go through the centuries old tradition of being asked if they were carrying contraband, though Paul wondered why the guards bothered. If catching smugglers was as easy as asking 'Are you smuggling anything?' then he suspected the criminal empires of the galaxy would have fallen apart a long time ago. Still, pointless as it was he had to go through with it along with the rest of the crew.
"Go ahead." Grozny said sullenly. "I want to make sure all my crew go through first."
Paul nodded to the preoccupied Captain, he understood his sentiment of meeting the gaze of each member of his crew as they left the elevators. Paul took his identicard and headed up to the narrow station with two grey uniformed security guards waiting for him.
"Indenticard please." The guard on duty asked in flat monotone. "Anything to declare?"
Paul was immediately tempted to give a dozen made up answers highlighting how stupid the question was, but restrained himself. He'd seen enough drunk freighter crews pull a similar stunt and get thrown in jail for an evening until they learned a little respect. "Not a thing." He answered instead. "Didn't get much time to go shopping."
A message beeped up on the guards computer as he scanned the card, drawing a frown.
"Is there a problem?" Paul asked.
"No, no problem." The Guard answered. "If you could just step aside for a moment."
"Why?" Paul demanded. "I have to go and see how my crew are doing. If there is no problem give me my card back!"
"Just one moment please." The guard responded calmly. "This won't take long?"
"What won't take long?" He gave a hint of a snarl. "I am not in the mood for this buddy, if you had any idea what I have been through on this trip you would let me past here and stay out of my way!"
"Mr Calendar, I've already told you this won't take long." The guard repeated obtusely. "Your name was flagged for special attention, you are to be kept here until an escort arrives."
"An escort?" Paul snapped. "What the hell do I need an escort for?"
"Because no matter where you go and what you do," an amused female voice spoke up, "You always end up in the worst possible trouble."
"Jenny?" Paul looked around and spotted his former crew member turned secret agent. "What are you doing here?" he asked hesitantly.
"I came to see you, we heard about what happened at Brakir." She said with a hint of concern.
"Who's we?"
"I think you know." She said with a twinkle. "I've booked us a private room, I'd like to ask you a few things about what you saw there."
Paul shook his head. "I really need to see my people, Toby and Jors will have seen the ship dock and be expecting me."
"It won't take long." She insisted. "Please, this is important."
Paul sighed, he never had been able to say no to a girl with that sort of pleading expression. It was a serious weakness. "Fine, but lets make it quick."
She grinned. "Follow me."
He set off after Jenny, getting quite a few glances from his fellow Belt Alliance crew members no doubt envious of his company. If they knew the full story of their meeting he doubted they would be quite so eager to swap places.
Jenny led him along the dull corridors to a faceless door similar to a thousand others across the station and swiped her entry card through the electronic lock, it hissed and then slid open to reveal a plain room with a bed and a small desk flanked by two rather uncomfortable looking chairs. It was the basic sort of cabin available on space stations and while not particularly pleasant it at least had gravity and privacy.
"Pull up a chair." Jenny gestured. "You thirsty?"
"Very." Paul nodded as he settled at the table. "So are you on official business?"
"Bit of both." Jenny said as she filled two glasses with alcohol and brought them to the table. "y boss wants to know what the Dilgar were playing at hitting Brakir and the Hyach at the same time, but I also wanted to see how you were doing."
"Wait a minute," Paul raised his hand. "They hit the Hyach too?"
"Yeah." Jenny said. "Didn't you hear? Jha'dur took her fleet in and caught them napping, took out most of their fleet in an hour or so before they even got a chance to fight back."
"That isn't good." Paul took the offered drink as Jenny sat down. "The Hyach were the big guns in that sector, if anyone could slow the Dilgar down long enough for the League to band together it was them."
"With Hyach firepower and Brakiri fleet numbers we were expecting the Dilgar to stall and consilidate their holdings." Jenny said. "We expected them to attack but not so soon, and certainly not opening a two front attack against such major powers."
"But it sounds like the gamble paid off." Paul grimaced. "If the Hyach are crippled and the Brakiri are under siege, the Dilgar just knocked both of them out of the war on the same day."
"It is looking that way." Jenny admitted. "We were hoping for more time before we made a response to the current situation."
"What kind of response?"
"EarthGov is going to make a public statement on the Dilgar invasion, the President is going to oppose their aggressive expansion and express solidarity with our allies, the Mentab and the Markab."
"When you say 'Oppose' what does that mean?" Paul wondered. "Has the Senate actually grown a backbone?"
"Not in this lifetime." Jenny smiled, a very disarming expression. "He'll lodge a formal protest at the way the war is being handled and he'll tell the Dilgar to leave Earth's allies alone, he might threaten force if they come to close to us."
"He'll threaten them?" Paul sighed. "The Dilgar will just laugh in his face."
"Maybe." Jenny shrugged. "But that's as good as its going to get."
"You and I both know that's not enough!" Paul hit slammed his hand down shaking the table. "The Dilgar are the biggest threat we have ever faced, heaven knows how many people they have killed already! We need to stop them dead in their tracks and that means ships, not words!"
"The President can't send Earth ships to war without senate approval, and there is no way they will approve attacking a race which is fa from our borders and no threat to us."
"But they are a threat!"
"Yes they are." Jenny agreed. "But the senate and the people won't see it that way. As far as they are concerned it's a League problem, not ours. Earth is still new to galactic politics and we are unsure of where we want to go. There is a strong isolationist lobby back home which says we should have nothing to do with aliens."
"Maybe they'll shut up when the Dilgar start taking out our colonies?" Paul snapped.
"The thing we most need is hard evidence of Dilgar atrocities and their military power, then we can show them as a mojor threat." Jenny explained. "That's where you come in, I need to know what happened at Brakir, what the Dilgar did, their tactics, aggressiveness, numbers, what turned them back, what weaknesses they displayed. I need everything you saw and thought."
For the next hour Paul recounted the battle from his perspective listing the various Dilgar strikes and the Brakiri countermoves. Jenny was interested to learn of the effectiveness of the interceptor grid used on the Belt Alliance ships and examples of Dilgar fighter tactics. She carefully recorded the conversation adding a few notes and highlights to areas she found interesting and asking a few extra questions mostly centred on how well Brakiri armour seemed to hold up to concentrated attack. Paul ended the description with the arrival of the Balosian ships and the Dilgar retreating to the outer system edges.
"So they were still in the system?" Jenny asked.
"They were when we left." He clarified. "We guessed they were waiting for supplies and ready for another attack."
"From what the League says you were facing Sha'dur, Deathwalker's brother."
"So I heard." Paul confirmed. "But I never got a look at his ship."
"Really?" Jenny noted that. "He usually leads from the front, if he was directing the battle from the rear this could be an unfortunate development. It's the smart thing to do and one smart Warmaster is more than enough for us to worry about."
"He must be following big sister's example." Paul grunted. "So what do you think they'll do?"
"With Brakir and the Hyach out of the way?" Jenny pondered. "They'll attack and soon, within a month or two."
"Straight down through the League?"
"I expect so." Jenny nodded. "They still have some problems to deal with, there are the Vree to contend with who have proven to be quite deadly and then the Yolu. We don't know a whole lot about them, just that they are old and don't appreciate visitors."
"I've travelled the League most of my life." Paul stated. "And I can tell you there is nothing they have which can match the Dilgar. Unless we do something a dozen civilisations are going to burn."
"It isn't our choice." Jenny sighed. "It rests with the politicians."
"Then we're all dead!" Paul spat.
They sat in silence for a while examining their drinks before Jenny reached up and stopped her recording device.
"I think that covers it." She said.
"You agree with me don't you?" Paul asked her.
"Yes I do." She answered sincerely. "We've seen the same things, I know exactly what will happen if the Dilgar go unchecked and it doesn't end pretty."
"You're in the government, maybe you can do something? Pull some strings?"
Jenny smiled genuinely. "I'm just an employee, I don't run the show. But don't worry, there are people right at the top who see things the way we do and are preparing."
"What people?" Paul perked up. "Your boss at the EIA?"
"I can't tell you that." she said firmly. "But just remember that some people are paid to protect the EA from exactly the sort of threat the Dilgar pose, they have dedicated their lives to it and will not let Earth become vulnerable to attack." She smiled again instantly warming the room. "You remember years ago how much trouble we went through with the senate to get funding for new ships? That the politicians didn't think we needed to update and expand our fleet?"
"I remember reading something in the papers." Paul nodded.
"They were adamant Earth should invest its money elsewhere, and yet by the end of the year we had Hyperions and even better Novas coming out of shipyards across the colonies. There are ways around this Paul, influence at the highest levels which can get things done." She emptied her glass. "Keep an eye on the news, things like new ship yards being built and new fighters entering service. The senate believes we are building new ships to retire the older ones, but we're actually keeping the full fleet active and aim for a thousand heavy ships in service by the end of the year. That should make even the Dilgar think twice."
"I hope you are right." Paul said. "I really do."
"Just have a little faith." She smiled. "If trouble comes knocking on our door we'll give it a warm reception."
She stood and put away the recorder. "So the rest of the boys are on the station?" she asked.
"Yeah, Jors and Toby are around here somewhere."
"So why don't we go find them." She grinned. "They can buy me a drink."
"Are you kidding?" Paul chuckled. "I've never seen Jors buy anyone a drink!"
They shared a laugh and headed for the door.
"You know I miss this." Paul said. "Just hanging out and laughing."
Jenny dropped her eyes. "You know what I do for a living, what I do for Earth."
"I know, I'm just saying." Paul shrugged. "Maybe one day after all this is done you won't need to worry about all of that and we can just go back to the way things were?"
"Maybe." She nodded. "I think I'd like that someday."
He smiled at the answer. "Come on then, lets go find the guys. We should start with the cheapest bar on the station and work our way up."
The entered the corridor smiling and laughing, a reminder of the good old days before the war and their responsibilities changed them. Perhaps it was denial, but Paul didn't care. He'd earned a little joy.
EIA Headquarters
Geneva, Earth.
"Just in time." Harry Leung tapped his watch as Francis burst through the door into the small briefing room. The other half dozen members of the digital intelligence department were already seated around a medium sized oblong table with recorders ready to take notes. As department head Leung was stood by the door waiting for his final team member to arrive.
"Sorry, I got lost on the way over." Francis admitted with embarrassment, his face a fetching shade of crimson. "Still getting used to this place."
"Take a seat." Leung nodded with some sympathy. "Took me two months to figure my way around this place."
He sat down with a huff and took off his thick winter jacket, it was well heated indoors but outside was feeling particularly bitter today. His apartment in the residential district of the EarthGov complex was quite a journey from his place of work but Francis didn't have a car or even a driving license and while the complex was well stocked in many ways one thing it didn't have was a taxi service. On his brisk run to work he had settled on buying a bicycle first chance he got.
At exactly eleven the door opened and Agent Chapel walked in, slightly surprising Francis. Chapel was Jenny's department head and while he didn't know exactly what the burly man did it was probably a lot more exciting than computer work. He had guessed Leung would handle the briefing but instead the Korean agent sat down and yielded the floor to Chapel.
"Good morning Ladies and gentlemen." He announced with a little dramatic flair. "Glad you all could make it, settling in okat Frankie?"
"Yeah, sure." Francis answered. "Say, is there anywhere round here I can get a bike?"
"I think so." Chapel shrugged. "Maybe Harry here can help you afterwards. Anyway, lets make a start shall we?"
Chapel activated the large video screen at the top of the room drawing everyone's attention. It showed an ordinary looking man at an airport captured on security footage. To Francis it looked completely normal and not in the least suspicious, if there was something wrong he guessed he'd need much more training to spot it.
"Meet Walter Krant." Chapel announced. "Now Mr Krant is something of an anomaly sent to us by the LAPD, they're stumped by him and thought we might be able to help." He pressed a button on the sde of the screen and changed the image showing more footage from the same security camera.
"Mr Krant is thirty Eight years old born in Modesto California, he lives on the edge of Los Angeles and works as a district manager for an electronics firm, they make parts for holographic projectors. Nothing fancy."
Francis concentrated on the images, to him the man seemed completely normal, average height, slightly bald, dressed casually, he could be any one of a billion people going about his daily business.
"Mr Krant arrived at LAX inter planetary space port at eight eighteen Monday morning and boarded the nine o'clock HALO flight to New York, arriving thirty minutes later." Chapel changed the image to show the same man crossing the customs gate at New York's Dulles space port. Like most of the old airports Dulles and LAX had been modernised half a century ago to handle orbital shuttles and space plane landings. Francis watched the man present his Identicard and pass through as normal walking out across the lobby.
"He leaves the airport at nine thirty seven and gets into city cab 22819 and tells the driver to head to Tmes square where he leaves a generous tip of sixty credits and heads off into the crowds."
"Sixty credits?" Harry Leung whistled. "Big spender."
"And yet his job doesn't pay all that well." One of Francis' colleagues noticed. "Odd behaviour."
"Oh it gets better." Chapel continued. "We have footage from department stores showing Mr Krant walking past their windows at eleven minutes past twelve the same day and then nothing."
"Nothing?" Francis wondered.
"Like the guy just disappeared." Chapel continued. "No trace on camera's, no use of his credit card or record of any EarthCom transmissions, no hotel reservations in his name, no eyewitnesses, noting. He just disappears."
"Okay, that is pretty weird." Harry admitted. "But why is it our problem, shouldn't the NYPD or the FBI be dealing with this, it's an internal North American issue."
"With one last twist in the tail." Chapel relished this moment as he divulged the last revelation. "Mr Krant's neighbour, a Ms Horowitz, reported to police that Mr Krant's vid player was on too loud. The LAPD eventually sent an officer around to check it out finding no answer at the door, after demanding entry he uses his police access to override the lock and gets himself in. there he finds Mr Walter Krant, dead."
"Dead?" Francis gasped.
"Dead," Chapel repeated. "Single knife wound to the chest piercing his lungs and heart. He'd have been dead before he hit the ground."
"So it's murder." Harry nodded. "At least we know where he disappeared to, which flight did he catch back from New York?"
"And here is the twist." Chapel grinned. "As you remember Mr Krant caught the Nine o'clock flight to New York Monday morning, right?" there were nods of agreement. "Well LAPD found the body Sunday evening."
"Impossible." Harry snorted. "He can't catch a flight if he's dead!"
"Exactly." Chapel clapped his hands together. "But the evidence shows Mr Krant getting on and off that jet, even after he was dead, murdered in fact."
"Does he have a twin?" one of the agents asked.
"No, just a sister in San Francisco. No other relatives." Chapel said.
"Someone wearing a mask?" Harry frowned.
"He managed to fool the airport scanners on the way in." Chapel replied. "If he'd been in disguise they should have picked it up, unless he had undergone radical plastic surgery. This is where we come in."
Francis had grown extremely interested in the story, it was an incredible mystery and it looked like they were going to play a part in solving it.
"The police departments have given us all the airport footage of this guy, they have their own digital units but it's a fact that the EIA has the best technology and hopefully the best people in the business."
"Something we're proud of." Harry smiled at his department.
"The Director has approved taking you guys off your current duties and putting you on this. He wants an analysis of the guy's face using computer mapping and reconstruction to see if he has had surgery, or to see if the security footage was somehow altered."
"It'd be too hard to alter all this footage." Francis shook his head. "It'd be more likely the guy was resuurected from the dead."
There were some chuckles. "That may be." Chapel smiled. "But let's get some proof."
"What about decrypting the Dilgar comms intercepts?" Francis raised the point. "This is a fine mystery, but wouldn't the codes be more important?"
"The director has given us this job, he probably has a real good reason." Chapel answered. "So let's get this done fast and go back to our day jobs. Any other questions?"
There were none.
"Alright then, lets see if this guy is Lazarus or just a real good impersonator."
The team left the room and headed back towards their offices and workstations. He hung back from the rest and waited for Agent Chapel to leave.
"Excuse me," he spoke up. "I haven't seen Jenny, I mean Agent Sakai, for a few days, is she okay?"
"She's fine." Chapel nodded. "She just had a job to do off world, she should be back by the end of the week."
"Nothing dangerous was it?" Francis did a poor job of hiding his concern.
"No, just chatting to a guy on Mars with some information." Chapel smiled in amusement. "You don't need to worry about her, she can really take care of herself. I mean really."
"Alright then." Francis relaxed. I better go find out what the story is with that Krant guy."
"Yeah, that would kind of be your job." Chapel grinned widely. "Go on, get outta here, find something good to show the director."
Francis nodded and shuffled away towards his room mind now safely focused on his job and not worrying about his new friend Jenny. Chapel watched him go, he didn't need to be psychic to know the young operative had feelings for the admittedly attractive agent who had recruited him but where that would lead was another question. Relationships between fellow agents rarely ended well, he knew that from experience.
Chapel noticed he was thumbing the ring on his left hand and forced himself to stop and go find something productive to do, with all that was going on there had to be something until the results of this latest assignment started filtering through. He decided to go check the League diplomatic information network and see if there was anything else on the Dilgar, they seemed to be the hot topic of debate just about everywhere and while a lot of the information was inflated or outright invented, sometimes there was a nugget of solid facts which would help him get a better sense for the warlike race. At the least it would keep him busy and keep his mind away from the past.
New York City.
He had to grudgingly admit this was a wonderous place. Dar'ro had visited a number of planets in his time as a Spectre, he'd set foot on the Drazi capital with its narrow streets and thick walled low buildings, he'd been to the Narn homeworld with its similar fortified buildings and to Centauri Prime with its ancient and majestic buildings. He'd seen the Brakiri cities rising from the sand and Abbai cities erupting from the seas, and of course he had seen the glistening pointed buildings of his home on Omelos. None of it came close to the sight he had seen upon landing.
The humans called these buildings skyscrapers and he knew exactly why, they were absolutely gigantic, vast towers of glass and bright metal rising from the ground up to incredible heights, it was something unknown on a dozen worlds and while other races did appreciate the value of towers as space savers they hadn't dreamed of taking them to the extremes the Humans had. The smallest of buildings dwarfed anything he had seen before rising hundreds of metres into the sky, but there was a cluster of towers so vast he had to check twice to make sure they were real, a score of buildings reaching beyond a mile high shaped like tubes or ovals with wide bases and tapering bodies up to a far distant point far from the ground. Even through his disguise it was obvious he was impressed, a passing human had remarked to him 'If you like those you should see Tokyo.' Which Dar'ro assumed must have even more of these skyscrapers.
But the greatest sight was a building seemingly stood alone, though it only looked that way because its neighbours were less than a fifth it's size. From a tourist leaflet he picked up at the airport the building was called the 10k tower, so named because it reached ten thousand feet skyward, the tallest building on Earth and for that matter anywhere else, a source of immense pride for the city and it's builders. The leaflet explained briefly that centuries ago the nation states of Earth had been competing with each other to build the tallest building, every few years somebody built a new tower which eclipsed the previous ones until an event named World War III stopped all that by causing a massive economic crash world wide after a major war in Asia. For a long time Earth was busy recovering and had no time for such extravagant buildings until the Centauri came, and after the first nerves wore off and the humans expanded into the galaxy the race sparked up anew using exotic alloys developed for space travel. The 10k tower was built by the same people who were designing the new generation of Explorer ships for the military and they were allegedly even bigger than the tower itself.
Dar'ro had decided to stay away from those areas though, the 10k tower was build in Manhattan on the site of the former UN building, although the area around was preserved as a site of planetary heritage, ancient buildings like the Empire State, Chrysler building and the Freedom towers still stood in the shadow of their massive descendant and its slightly smaller siblings further away from the old town. However, despite the gleaming suburbs and towers there were still parts of New York which were run down and poverty stricken. For years, centuries even, successive governments had tried to eliminate poverty but in every country there were still slums and ghettos where the downtrodden or just plain unlucky gathered. People tried to block out these areas and ignored them pretending they didn't exist. They were the perfect sort of places where people went to in order to disappear.
Dar'ro stepped into a dirty building with nobody even caring about his presence. He wore the disguise of a poorly dressed and unshaven human male in his forties who would attract no adverse attention in this setting. He grunted at the buildings land lord and headed up the stairs to the dismal room he had been given through his contacts, all provided by the Warmaster Jha'dur. The door used an old fashioned metal key to unlock it and with a squeal the door swung open allowing Dar'ro in. he quickly gave the room a quick visual scan for danger and then shut the door behind him and locked it. Safely out of sight he took out an electronic scanner and searched for bugs before finally satisfying himself that he was alone and in private.
He deactivated his Chaemelion net and pulled off the hood, immediately feeling light headed. The net was an ingenious piece of technology but not without its side effects, the power source needed to run it was unusually large and the pack had insufficient shielding making radiation poisoning a real issue with prolonged use. Still, if he achieved his mission it would be a small price to pay. The room was small and overall brown in appearance with dirty walls and lank curtains covering the windows. The video monitor looked at least thirty years old and the various fixtures and fittings in the kitchen and bathroom were pitted with rust and grime. There was however one thing whice stood out, on the main table was a top of the range computer gleaming silver and black connected to a host of systems and hardware, the whole set up likely cost more than the building it was housed in.
The computer had not been provided by the land lord, indeed he had no idea it even existed. Who put it there exactly was a mystery to Dar'ro too, he had just been given directions to this room and told all he needed would be waiting for him, Jha'dur had not gone into details. It would seem that somehow the young Warmaster had made arrangements for the Spectre to have a little support on the human homeworld, probably through bribing aliens or disreputable humans to handle a few jobs no questions asked. None of them probably knew Jha'dur was behind the job, they just took the money had didn't give a second thought to its origin. People like that made Dar'ro's life so much easier.
The computer itself was a human model but of greater interest were two brief case sized boxes the machine was wired up to. These were apparently encryption and anti trace devices designed to keep his computers location a top secret even if his presence on Earth was suspected. He had taken precautions against that but knew better than to underestimate a potential foe. To contact the Warmaster with his findings he would post a coded message on the Earth Alliance Galaxy net, a type of civilian data link between computers descended from something called the internet. This message would then be accessed by his Warmaster and deciphered, any new instructions would reach him in the same manner.
In theory it was completelt untraceable, but to be sure Dar'ro was preparing to set a series of booby traps and warnings around his room to give him the edge in case security forces did somehow find him. He trusted technology, but he trusted in himself much more. He hadn't brought any energy weapons with him for fear their power packs would not be masked by the Chaemelion net which hard difficulty enough hiding its own power signal ans so instead relied on a series of knives and blades secured about his person. Dar'ro had long ago mastered knife fighting in some of the brutal gutters of Omelos and was supremely confident in his speed and skill with his chosen weapon. Human biology was similar enough to the Dilgar to mean what killed one invariably killed the other and knives were no exception.
He activated the computer and its encoding systems and prepared to send his first message informing Jha'dur he was safely on planet and ready to begin his assigned mission, the recovery of the data from the EAS Persephone. By now he fully expected it had been copied and sent to the Human military and intelligence commands, stopping it from circulating was impossible and the humans would know the truth. However there was still a vast amount of data in those recorders which Jha'dur desperately wanted, data on Earth ships and capabilities along with classified information about bases and military supply posts. Getting that data from the wrecked ships files would be much easier than trying to hack into the central Earth force information net or sneaking into a military base on Earth itself.
The problem was going to be finding out where the original data recorder was based. Logically it had to be on Earth at an important facility, maybe Naval command, maybe Intelligence command, maybe a deep underground facility. The first step in securing it was finding it. By this time the data ports which the Dilgar had been unable to open up and decode should be free to access, the humans not expecting a Dilgar agent all the way out here on Earth, so actually gathering the data should be simple. His biggest problem was going to be getting out with the information, and for that he was going to have to rely heavily on his suit and hope Earth didn't have the sophistication to scan through the Chaemelion field.
The system logged onto the galaxy net through its secure encryption and Dar'ro began to type.
Dilgar battlefleet
Former Hyach colony at Yonog
As was custom Captain An'jash greeted her Warmaster at the shuttle bay, an escort of two armed guards snapping to attention as the airlock cycled through. "Welcome back Warmaster." She clutched her chest in her own salute.
"Thank you Captain." Jha'dur beamed. "Did the Roth garrison send my samples along?"
"Yes Warmaster, we have ten natives and two former Dilgar officers contained in the onboard labs awaiting your attention."
Jha'dur paused to remove her black leather gloves made from the finest of materials. Exactly where the leather had come from didn't matter but knowing the tastes of the Warmasters she wouldn't be surprised if had once been attached to an Abbai or Brakiri war prisoner. A smile flickered across her features at the concept, but she had other issues to consider. "Where is the Hyach navy?"
"Gathered at their homeworld." An'jash replied efficiently. "Their colony at Sha-bal is in the process of being evacuated, there is a moderately strong military presence there. Same goes for their colony at Ivala."
"They are in full retreat." Jha'dur savoured the news. "But we must be prepared in case the consilidate their position and attack." She jolted forward at a brisk walk and began heading for her quarters deep in the dreadnought, her aide falling into pace beside her. "Hyach ships are lethal if they are allowed to dictate the battle, we must always be ready to make the first move."
"Understood Warmaster."
"The supply situation should be restored in a day or so, when we have refuelled we will make a quick journey to their homeworld itself and test the Hyach resolve."
They stepped into a lift and Jha'dur jabbed the floor she needed. Beside her Anjash raised some concerns.
"Warmaster, we will not have the element of surprise, the Hyach will be waiting for us this time."
"I sincerely hope so." Jha'dur smiled and rolled her head back. "Hiding behind their defences, their population huddled together in terror of our approach, this is exactly the effect I have been aiming for. The fear of our reputation is almost as important as the skills which earned us notoriety in the first place."
"Break their spirit and the battle is won." An'jash remarked.
"Something like that." Jha'dur commented. "They will defend their homes with the ferocity of wild animals, the League can't fight most of the time but pin them to the wall and instinct takes over. The Hyach will fight well but will not try and counter attack, not if we keep them cowed and fearful."
The lift stopped and Jha'dur resumed her pace. "We must terrorize the Hyach, just as we do the other races until we end this war and can pick off the besieged worlds one at a time."
"Also Warmaster I have sent more scouts out into League space." An'jash informed her leader. "with the edges of Hyach and Brakiri space open we have access to the heart of the League."
"Good, there are a number of worlds which look promising as a future home for our people." The Warmaster nodded. "Once we cleanse their existing populations of course."
"Of course Warmaster." An'jash drew to a halt beside Jha'dur's quarters. "Are tere any further orders?"
"Just one." The Warmaster smiled thinly. "Send a squadron to each Hyach colony. When the refugee ships enter hyperspace attack them, try to disable engines if possible and let hyperspace take them."
"As you wish Warmaster."
"And remember not to jam their channels." Jha'dur added. "I want their friends and relatives on the homeworld to hear their cries for help. Terror Captain, terror."
Jha'dur opened the door to her room, answered her aides salute and as the door swished shut she collapsed with a long sigh into a lush armchair. She took the gloves from her pocket and threw them at a table and loosened her heavy uniform jacket. Whatever her subordinates believed she was far from bright and happy, and it wasn't the aliens who were attacking her composure but her own people. It was hard enough fighting a war out here, let aone fighting one at home too.
"Computer, display messages received today." She spoke out loud. "Authorisation Dark one, six two nine."
The screen blinked on. "Single message." It reported.
"Who from?"
"Identity concealed." The computer replied. "Source unknown, message subject listed as 'arrival' no further information."
Jha'dur sat up in her chair. "Display message." She ordered. "Run standard decryption routines."
"Message is text only, it reads 'have arrived safely, beginning mission.' That is all."
"Delete message and all records."
"Completed." Announced the computer.
That was hopeful news, her agent on Earth had begun to set his plans in motion. Through elements of the Narn government she had been put in touch with certain humans who were willing to betray their planet for money, a concept rather alien to her but apparently understood and encouraged by the Narn. As far as they were concerned these turncoats were aiding the Narn Regime, which seemed more palatable than the Dilgar and less likely to raise moral questions from their long ignored consciences. Their payment was funnelled through a number of Narn and even Centauri financial institutions to dilute the trail as much as possible and hide Omelos as the source of the funds, it was a logical safeguard but also served a second purpose for Jha'dur. While hiding it from the Humans was important, hiding it from her own peers was equally vital.
This entire operation to put an agent on Earth was known to just three Warmasters, herself, her brother and the Supreme Warmaster with nobody else in the council knowing of the operation, even the head of Military intelligence himself. If Len'char knew of the mission and knew it was one of Jha'dur's personal projects he might be very motivated to sabotage it in the interest of gaining political points just like it seemed he had tried with the supply situation, and the Imperium could not afford to have this mission and its results lost to selfish ambition.
One of these days Len'char was going to make a big mistake, and the second that happened Jha'dur would be waiting for him, knife clutched behind her back. Political infighting was nothing new, it had become an accepted part of Dilgar politics that grabs for power usually ended in blood, that was after all the preferred way of solving large issues on Omelos and had been for centuries. The real problem came when this happened now in the middle of the Dilgar race's darkest hour. The Supreme Warmaster had called for unity in the face of disaster from the War council, the people themselves did not yet know about the impending catastrophy set to befall Omelos but the higher levels of government did. They had to work together to save their people and only then could the normal cycle of assassination and power grabbing return.
Gar'shan had tried to reason with them, appeal to their sense of patriotism and survival, even going as far as threatening the council with execution if they did not follow him unquestioningly but he was not the man he had been a few years ago. His health was failing and while his mind remained sharp he was becoming physically incapable of applying his knowledge. He had taken responsibility for saving his whole race and the sheer scope of that task was burning him out. Jha'dur had asked to help, virtually begged to take some responsibility, but Gar'shan was a proud leader and had refused to share the burden. It was not pride or a desire to reap all the glory for single handedly leading the Dilgar as Len'char and his cronies believed, it all stemmed from his old fashioned sense of duty and leadership.
It was going to get him killed. If Len'char took over it was probably going to get them all killed.
Jha'dur had sworn to serve her people and lead them to continued dominance of the stars, she realised this would mean killing a very large number of people and she accepted that. What she was now beginning to realise was that a number of those people were not going to be aliens but rival Dilgar who threatened their united front. She didn't give two thoughts to most alien races, once in a while they did something surprising which made her wonder if honour and courage were solely Dilgar traits, but ultimately she considered them vermin to be removed or slaves to be exploited. At best they were tools to assist her research into the formulas of death, and hopefully one day the secret of life. At one time the thought of killing Dilgar would have shocked her, even now it was uncomfortable but when she stopped and considered the last few years she had already ordered the deaths of almost a hundred of her own people who had failed and risked the outcome of the war.
Jha'dur killed for a reason, she never killed purely out of anger and each and every life taken served a purpose. Her officers did not die if they made genuine mistakes, it was a fact of war that circumstances are beyond anybodies control and a good Warmaster needed to adapt in a second, many cold not do that but were still fine officers. However if the mistake was due to negligence or dereliction of duty, if it was a simple situation which had spiralled out of control, that was different and the officer who had failed would be made an example of. It was a thankfully rare occurrence in her fleet, her forces were highly motivated and she had taken a great deal of time to train them up to her standards, she believed nurturing talent and confidence was better than scaring them into following orders. The Roth Garrison was a case in point, many leaders would have wiped out the entire force but Jha'dur knew that removing those in positions of responsibility would be enough to erase the problem and serve to encourage their replacements to work harder. Her methods of execution were likewise designed as the ultimate deterrent, nobody in their right mind wanted Jha'dur as an enemy.
Which made Len'char's actions that much more confusing. When she had first met him he was a loyal Dilgar officer and competent intelligence agent. As a favoured aide to Gar'shan he had risen through the ranks and seemed to be a close ally of Jha'dur and the Supreme Warmaster, but then not long before the war began he had suddenly grown distant and gave in to ambition. He took risks to further his own agenda and at the battle of Tithalis in the early days of the war those risks had cost many soldiers and crew their lives.
Now he was so caught up in himself it didn't seem like he realised how much damage he was doing. Jha'dur had once considered him a friend, but now he was an obstacle to the survival of her species and that had to be addressed. While she was out here fighting Len'char was unchecked and she half expected the frantic pace of the war and the fact her fleets had been heavily engaged without a real rest since the war began was in no small part designed to keep her away from Omelos and away from the power games going on there. Very soon she would work her way home and come to the aide of her mentor Gar'shan. The Supreme Warmaster had sheltered her, gave her a new purpose in life and all the help she needed to achieve her ultimate dream. She owed him everything, beside her brother Gar'shan was the only family she had, the Supreme Warmaster's son and daughter were like siblings and the old leader himself a true father figure, one which was now under threat.
She gritted her teeth in resolve. She had once called Len'char a friend, but if the opportunity arose she would kill him in a heartbeat without a shred of remorse. But before that happened the war was growing, and battle was calling to her. With the fleets about to resupply the second wave of attacks could begin against the Brakiri and Hyach finally removing the threat to the Imperium's flanks. With them gone the acquisition of a new homeworld could begin in earnest and by her hand, not Len'char's, the Dilgar race would live.