2201 CE
MSV Tarune
"What do you mean we won't make it to Illium?" Judto wheezed in bemusement as it stood at the helm console. Around the small bridge, everyone paused to listen intently.
"From what I'm seeing, we're down to one third fuel," Kestiral said in an unhurried tone over the intercom. "We'll have to stop for an overhaul of the fuel tanks in the next system or we're dead in the water."
Judto turned to Vonpar who was in charge of operations. Anticipating the question, it said, "I'm an old hand. Do you think I'll let us leave Krizak without filled tanks?"
"Why didn't you spot the problem before we left?" Judto demanded, turning back to the intercom.
"Sure, I'm a green hand you picked up a day ago. Total idiot on duties and preflight checks," Kestiral returned mildly.
The bridge crew hunched as if bracing against a krogan charge. Everyone knew when Kestiral talked softly, he was on the warpath. Judto hesitated, glancing at Vonpar as if seeking advice but the chief mate pretended to be absorbed in its omni-tool. Stopping in the next system was not a problem as they had an emergency cache of hardware and fuel hidden on one of the moons. However, they would be late and being late was a mark down in its reputation as a prompt and square shipper. It held back a snort of irritation lest it angered Kestiral and sighed wheezily. Perhaps it was Zada Ban's form of punishment for its dealings it shouldn't have taken.
Keeping its tone bland, Judto asked, "How long will the inspection and repair take?"
"Depends on what I find."
"Keep me updated."
The tension around the bridge relaxed when nothing more came over the intercom. An immediate crisis averted.
Judto eyed the bridge crew with disfavour. Although they were with the Tarune for several years, they tend to slack off with no one looking over their shoulders. The fuel leak might not be the only problem.
"I want a keen eye on every system," it said sharply. "However slight a fluctuation in any operations, I want it noted down and reported. Have the deck officer make sure the cargo are secured," it instructed before ambling off to its quarters. Time to invoke the favour of the god of fortune to ensure there were no more troubles to come.
Attican Traverse, Crescent Minor, Wastelia System
VAF First Fleet, 0002 hours
VAF Superdreadnaught Sear
"Anything to report?"
Having heard Lieutenant (jg) Askial's footsteps, Ensign Ravicz the ATO (assistant tactical officer) for the night shift said blandly, "All is clear sir." After a beat, the sound of moving footfalls heralded Askial's retreat. "What's the count?" he said softly after the sound had died away.
The dark hair woman, midshipwoman Kastan sitting next to him, held up five fingers. "I reckon there'll be four more," she murmured.
"He shouldn't have picked up the bet. Nothing ever happens on a shake and bake."
"Mmn," she said non-committally.
"You think something will happen?" Ravicz said sceptically. When Kastan said nothing, he continued, "And what's going to come swimming in a small barren system like Wastelia? It has no relay, not a TTS (transit trade system), no resources and hardly a footnote in the GSL (galaxy systems list)."
"Remember what they said about the Reapers back then?" Kastan countered with a shrug. "Think about it. Wastelia is a nice isolated system to duck into."
"Not after today. The other half of this system is choked with debris from the live fire runs..." Ravincz stopped short at the faint sound of conversation from the astrogation station. He rolled his eyes at the sight of Askial bending over ensign Young. "He'll get more jumpy as the timer ticks down." Ravicz gestured at the fleet tac net display. "It will still be clean as a whistle when this shift ends."
Kastan regarded the screen. Ravicz wasn't wrong. The rotational schedule of the destroyer squadrons swapped seasoned divisions that had been with the fleet for two years for freshly minted ships from the shipyards, with newly assembled crews from Palaven and Tuchanka. They joined the fleet at Crescent Nebula and a shake and bake was in the book to test the newcomers, their tactical coordination, weapons systems and to iron out any kinks. Rather than spent several days travelling to the nearest firing yard, the powers-that-be decided to pop next door to Wastelia.
However, Wastelia wasn't on the dedicated list of barren systems in which the VAF fleets and new hulls could conduct live fire exercises. It was recently discovered by galactic survey teams and added to the GSL. DLiFPS (Dedicated live fire planetary systems) were listed publicly so no one would stray into those areas. Hence, Wastelia was thoroughly scanned and warning beacons set all around the heliopause before the live fire exercises took place. Unless a ship captain was deaf and blind, no hull would wander in. If they did and came in from the wrong sector, they would have to navigate through the shifting debris field though not without getting slammed by a good size rock first. If they were unlucky.
But like Lieutenant Askial, she wished something would happen. She joined the Sear roster a year ago after graduating from Yukon Academy. To be assigned to Red's fleet and to the flagship was the dream of a lifetime. Of course a lot of sweat and tears in the academic years, earning a place in the top ten helped in the selection. The most action she had seen after she joined the crew was a skirmish with several dogged pirates reluctant to give up the poaching of cargo freighters plying the Caleston Illium route. The rest of the days were carrying out her duties and riding through regular simulated battle drills. Not that they were tedious. The senior officers had a lot to impart and she was eager to learn. A little spice to test their mettle however, wouldn't hurt.
It was unlikely to happen. The heaviest action took place after the VAF began pirate suppression operations in the Atticus Traverse to secure travel and trade routes. With allied navy military presence withdrawn to core worlds in the TI campaign, the pirates had 14 years to dig in and expand their holdings. Taking over surviving colonies left struggling from the Reaper War and establishing bases throughout the Attican Traverse and the outlaw Terminus Systems. It took a year before the major pirate bases and shipyards in the Attican Traverse were destroyed. The survivors had fled to whatever boltholds they had prepared and ventured forth now and then to pounce and nibble on unwary freighters and liners.
The core substantial pirate bases were in the Terminus Systems but as far as she knew, there were no plans to suppress pirate operations there. The VAF fleets were stretched thin patrolling the traffic lanes in the Attican Traverse, attending to various emergencies and making sure the pirates stayed out in the Terminus System. But sooner or later, there would be an operation to root them out, she was certain. Right now, on this simple shake and bake run, the junior officers were given the chance to log in some bridge time. What could possibly happen?
Rear Admiral Shepard's Private Cabin
"Everyone jumped on everybody. Higgy got a black eye, Lissia hurt her ankle, Van broke a toe, Krissie got a nose bleed after she was hit in the face but we scored big. The other guys couldn't catch us up," Davi crowed, eyes shining brightly.
April smiled at the satisfaction and triumph in Davi's voice. "Sounds rough but I can tell you love it. Got a prize shiner for it too," she observed. It was hard to miss the large greening bruise on Davi's cheek.
"Oh Aunt Karin says it'll go off in a few days," Davi said dismissively, brushing away a lock of auburn hair that fell into her grey eyes. "Haseine Liamar said we're ready for the inter-school tournament. The final would be held in two months. Would...you be home for it, mom?" she asked hesitantly. "I think we have a chance of making it into the finals."
"I can't promise anything squirt," April said regretfully. The hopeful plea in the girl's voice was hard to miss. Winning the top class rugby trophy was a notch in the girl's aspirations. To win the inter-school tournament would be a crowning achievement. She wished she could return to Thessia to watch her compete but given the recent updates she received from VAFI (Vanguard Allied Fleet Intelligence) on the pirate expansion in the Terminus Systems, it was impossible to take a brief leave of absence. "If there's a chance I can get away, I'll be there before you know it."
Disappointment flared in Davvi's eyes. "Ok," she said.
"You're going to do great," April said encouragingly, wishing she could reach into the screen and hugged the girl.
A shadow fell briefly on Davi and Shiala appeared to lean over her shoulder to smile at April before she looked down at the girl. "I hate to cut this short but it's past midnight," she said softly, "and you have a vital test module at eight in the morning," she reminded Davi.
"But..," Davi began to protest.
"The celebratory dinner after the game took a long time. You need to rest well to have a clear mind for the test."
When Davi's face settled into mulish rejection, April interjected before she could protest further. "What's going to happen if you fail the test?" she asked.
Davi blinked, startled. "I suppose I'll have to attend extra classes and retake the test next month," she said.
"Doesn't that mean you'll have to set aside time you would normally have spent for something else?" April pointed out, watching the realisation dawned on the girl's face that extra classes would mean missing training sessions for the inter-school tournament. If she missed too many of those, she might be pulled back to sit with the reserves.
"Ok," Davi conceded. "Good night mom. Love you."
"Love you too, squirt. Good night." April smiled and returned the girl's wave before she got up and left.
Shiala smiled at April. "You better get to bed too, I know it's really late for you. Esare'ie."
"Esare'ie."
Stifling a yawn, April turned off the console and swung her chair around to face the round window. The darkness outside was offset by the glare of the distant sun. Metal glinted here and there as that glare bounced off stationary ships. She regarded the nearest ship. A heavy cruiser. Turian, from the shape of it. She stifled another yawn. Running battle simulations, testing the crews of the new additions to the fleet and the meetings after had taken up most of the day. She was dreadfully tired but her mind couldn't settle. Her thoughts kept circling on the latest Spectre reports on pirate factions and operations in the Terminus Systems.
The expansion of pirate territory was anticipated but the extent of how much they could acquire in 14 years was underestimated. The number of ships and pirates the VAF encountered in their operations in the Atticus Traverse was disturbingly heavier but pirate tactics hadn't changed much from their trademarked bull charging, dying and retreating. As expected of pirates, was the general observation. Once they were pushed out to the Terminus Systems, they were more or less a footnote in the public eye.
Not in her eye however. The pirate queen of Omega felt the same way for she had been sending regular updates through third channels on pirate movements and secretly accommodating Spectre operations. There was nothing solid she could point at, Aria had stated frankly. Nobody was talking nor was there any discernible movement against her but there was something simmering in the Terminus Systems. Her instincts screamed it. The sooner it was discovered, the better.
Information gathering was slow but the latest report had thrown up an estimated number of pirate holdings and resources which would continue to grow if left unchecked. No doubt Aria would be pulling strings and shoving hard for action for she could lose her precious hold on Omega. After the experience with Cerberus, Aria wouldn't let it happen again. Although she didn't talk about it, April was certain she had gathered a little fleet. It wouldn't be enough to fend off the pirates however if they went for Omega. She felt it in her bones that the Council shouldn't hover any longer on a decision on the perilous state of the Terminus Systems. There would come a day when they could be facing a menace three times greater than the numbers at the Skyllian Blitz.
VAF-SD001 Sear
Middle Watch Changeover, 0004 hours
Both Ravicz and Kastan looked up when the chime went off for change of the watch. The bridge hatch slid open and the morning watch began to file in, led by Lieutenant Commander Ason. Right behind was lieutenant Denage with an air of amusement. They glanced surreptitiously at Askial. The lieutenant sat unmoving in the captain's chair, hand flicking over the fleet sensor data display. Searching vainly for an anomaly that wasn't going to happen.
Ravicz wagged his eyebrows at Kastan as they logged off and relinquished their station to the morning watch replacements. An interesting interchange between Askial and Denage was in line at the wardroom later in the day. He planned to be there to watch the show just to see who gained the upper hand in the intense rivalry among the lieutenants. Kastan rolled her eyes and prodded him in the side with a finger to move when he paused to take in the brief exchange between Askial and commander Ason. Denage sat at the astrogation station, seemingly engrossed in checking over the readouts but he knew the lieutenant was listening intently.
Having heard of the bet and rivalry, Ason raised no eyebrow at the undertone of disgruntlement in Askial's voice and acknowledged the handover of the watch. Before turning away, Askial flicked a quick glance at Denage who did not look his way. With a scowl, he marched to the hatch as Ason walked over to the XO's chair and sat down. Bringing up the repeater displays, he looked through the logs of the middle watch crew. Nothing irregular stood out. Closing the logs, he pulled up the patrol reports. He was halfway through when Lieutenant Radikus at the tactical station looked over to him.
"Sir, HPS (heliopause sensors) have detected a ship approaching peripheral limit. Its transponder identifies it as the MSV Tarune."
"A freighter?" Ason frowned. Crescent Minor was off the shipping lanes. No freighter should be swanning around the area. Calling up the mercantile ship registry, he ran through the specs. MSV Tarune was an A1C Athabasca class freighter. One of the older freighter models with cargo capacity of 90 thousand tons. Crew complement of 45. Its itinerary put it on the Cyone Illium route. It was way way off its path.
"Has it made contact?" he asked.
"No, sir. It's stationary at the limit."
"Hail the freighter," Ason ordered as he cleared the main display and waited as the comm officer made contact.
"I've Captain Judto on the link, sir," said the comm officer.
"Captain Judto, I'm Lt Commander Ason of the VAFSD Sear," Ason said once the the image of a volus appeared on his screen. "Wastelia System is presently designated a military zone. No civilian traffic is permitted to approach yet our sensors have detected your presence at the outer limit. Did you not receive the perimeter beacon warning?"
"Commander Ason," it wheezed, "we have a additional contract to pick up lost cargo that were detached from the merchant freighter Rasone due to cargo coupling failure in a SDB (Stray Debris Breach) incident. We were on our way to the Crescent Nebula when the engineer discovered a leak in the fuel tanks. We were going to go as close to the shipping lanes possible, go cold and hope someone would pick up our distress beacon but we picked up the warning perimeter signal. We calculated that we stand a better chance of a rescue if we headed here."
"Where was the Rasone when the SDB happened?" asked Ason.
"It was in the Zelene System, on contract to pick up cargo from the Helyme mining facility. It was exiting the system when inbound debris struck the cargo bays."
"When did this happen?"
"A month ago. The incident is logged in the PML (public mercantile logs)."
"Your ship is listed on the Cyone Illium route."
"Yes," Judto confirmed. "That is our usual route. We exited the Eagle Nebula Relay, made our way to the approximate cargo location and would have gone on to Crescent Nebula."
"Very well captain Judto. Hold position. Marine inspection parties will be despatched within the hour. Please have crew and cargo manifest ready. Once your crew, ship and cargo are clear, you'll be allowed to proceed within the system."
"Thank you commander." Judto turned to the bridge crew once the display blanked. "You all know the drill. I want this done right or we'll be caged and over the hot rocks. Check everything over one more time before the VAF marines get here. We did this before, we can do it again."
Everyone bent to their tasks. To make sure there was no error, Judto went through the ship logs again. It froze when a hail crackled from the comm station, harsh rasps hissing in quick bursts from its suit voder before it realised everyone was looking at it in alarm. With effort, it forced itself to breathe normally as it waved to the comm officer to answer the hail. Vonpar could handle the VAF marines. It would stay on the bridge to get itself into a semblance of calm should the inspection officer wanted an interview. No, when it was interviewed. It doubted the VAF commander took the story it cooked up for truth. It wasn't the best but it had worked once in another engineering incident years before the Reaper War. It would work again. Judto was sure of it.
"How many parties did they send?" it asked after the comm officer finished the conversation with the VAF officer.
"Three. Two are coming in at airlock C. The third at airlock B."
Three. Judto forced itself to remain calm. The Tarune was a big freighter with three cargo decks. The VAF commander wouldn't want to take too much time for inspection if the VAF fleet was scheduled to leave soon. It wished it had taken a chance on backtracking when they caught the perimeter beacon warning and waited for the fleet to leave but military sensors were a lot better than civilian hardware. Their presence was likely detected the moment they received the message. Backtracking would only increase suspicion. No, it had done the right thing.
Major Kerank ran an assessing eye over the stacks of crates as he checked the manifest of the lost cargo. Battered and scrapped. Clear signs of damage taken when the crates were blown from secured couplings. The contents matched as well. The merchant captain's account appear to be solid. He nodded and marked it off his list before proceeding to the rest of the cargo on the first deck with his squad. A single crate was randomly selected from each stack, opened and examined. He knew better than to pick those on the surface. Sometimes he chose the bottom, other times he went to the middle. All was labeled properly, legal, contents matching the manifest.
Despite the smooth inspection, he remained suspicious. The crew was too accommodating. Not a sign of objection when he deliberately had them shift most of a stack to get to the crate at the middle bottom layer. No unhappiness, no complaint when he had them emptied a crate of assessories to make a tally of every item. Every cargo handler was eager and ready to do what was asked after three hours of shifting and packing. A rare breed. The merchant captain was a lucky bugger with such a crew. To him, they were Kezeka yedeka. Rats with everything to lose if they failed to dance, he mused as they moved to the next stack of crates. The last on that deck.
Unlike the other stacks, the crates were lozenge shaped. Digeris Lazerig pelts for a textile company, according to the manifest. Digeris Lazerig was a native predator on the Turian colony. Prized for their sleek purple tawny fur. Made lovely decorations on the wall, beautiful coats, exotic frills on clothing. With a hunting quota of the predator, a single pelt fetched a huge sum on the market so it was no surprise to see each crate sealed with triple security locks.
He pondered for a moment as he stalked around the stack. The cargo handlers hovered. While they watched him, his squad eyed them and the surroundings. He made another circuit and yet another, surreptitiously watching their reactions. Relaxed, no anxiety. He halted and was about to point to a crate in the center of the stack to open when he noticed the thin gap along the lid of the top crate on the left. The tiniest of slit he would have missed were it not for the slight flutter of the broken seals.
"That crate."
The cargo handlers moved without hesitation. Within minutes the crate was deposited on the deck.
"Stop." Kerank waved the puzzled cargo handlers back as they were about to remove the seals and bent to take a closer look. The seals were sliced thinly with the barest burnt traces. A heat knife. It wasn't difficult to throw back the lid. The stunned cargo handlers stared at the contents, barely noticing the rifles snapping up to train on them.
Running his omni-tool over the crate, Kerank toggled the squad channel grimly once he saw the scan readings.
"All units, we're Red One. Delta squad, assume control of the bridge. Gamma squad, take over the engine room. Vega squad, round up the crew and confine them in the wardroom. Halgron, I need you on cargo deck three immediately." He turned to his squad. "Lieutenant Bosch, move the cargo handlers to the wardroom."
One of the cargo handlers finally found his voice. "But, we don't know about this. We.."
"Move."
VAF-SD001 Sear
Forenoon Watch 0800
Rear Admiral Shepard's Private Cabin
April slipped on her uniform tunic, struggling to stifle the umpteenth yawn. The battle was lost. The bed had never looked more tempting. After a final look in the mirror, she turned resolutely from temptation and went through the hatch to her day cabin. The aroma of coffee tickled her nose and sent her senses surging. The first sip as she sat down at her desk chased away the vestiges of sleepiness.
"I'm going to have an extremely busy day, am I?" she said when she saw the extra egg, the generous sprinkling of nuts and fruits on her ham salad on the tray that Chief Steward Yarinnson placed before her.
"Without a doubt, sir," Yarinnson said lightly, placing a glass of water next to the cup of coffee.
"What snuck in when my back was turned?" After spreading the napkin on her lap, April picked up the fork. "Care to drop a hint?"
"I cannot hint when I'm in the dark. However I can tell you Captain De León and Lieutenant Meyer are anxious to see you as soon as possible."
"What level of anxiety are we talking about."
"About a eight."
Swallowing a bite of salad, April pointed at the day cabin hatch. "Not hovering outside are they?"
"Only Meyer. The captain chose to spend his time wisely." Yarinnson pointed to the tray, "If you would finish that, sir." She vanished into the pantry.
Knowing Yarinnson would be on her tail if she summoned Meyers and dropped breakfast, April went on to finish the salad. Like a genie, Yarinnson appeared the minute she removed the napkin. Bending to take the tray, the steward asked, "Shall I send in Lieutenant Meyers?"
"Please do."
There were several messages when April turned on her work console. The red flashing tag caught her attention immediately. As she opened the message, the hatch hissed open.
"Admiral, there's..," Meyer began to say before his salute reached his head. He halted in his tracks when April held up a hand.
"A moment Meyer."
After an intense look at her, the lieutenant stared ahead and braced himself. She gestured to him to continue after going through the message a few times. Like a released dam, the words rushed out.
"At 0435 this morning, a merchant freighter, the MSV Tarune, approached the perimeter beacons. When contacted, a captain Judto indicated the freighter was on a SDB mission and encountered engine problems. The captain concluded that they would receive help more quickly if they approached the fleet. Accordingly, Commander Ason despatched inspection parties. Major Kerank discovered a discrepancy in one of the pods in the Digeris Lazerig cargo. The pod and the contents were transferred over to the Sear after a medical evaluation."
Expecting to hear of illegal hardware, April revised her guess. "What's in the pod?" she asked when Meyer paused for breath. Her first incredulous thought was Digeris Lazerig. Surely no one in their right minds would transport a predator that's twice the size of a human and with the reputation of an alpha killer.
"A Raloi."
"What did you say?" April stared at Meyer in astonishment.
"A Raloi, sir. Captain De León was called to medbay just now."
"What's the condition of the Raloi?"
"According to Dr Gregman, he is malnutrition and too weak to speak. There is more but he would speak to the captain and you, sir."
"I see." April rose from her chair, closing her work console as she did so and headed for the hatch. "Status of the freighter and the crew?"
"The freighter is held at station keeping 300 klicks from the Flesune. The crew are held onboard the Sear, undergoing interrogation."
The marine sentries on the other side of the hatch snapped to attention when she stepped through. One of them peeled off to follow April and Meyer.
To be continued