Birthright: Battle for the Confederation- Crusade Read online

  “Now you mock me. What is it that you want from me?”

  “I came here to tell you that our trip is near. In an hour or two, we’ll be grabbing you for our final briefing before we get our Priman prosthetics on. We even got the uniform shop to make us some authentic looking Keeper uniforms in our own sizes. I’ve come to ask you for something.”

  “It seems that, since I am your prisoner, you have the leverage to ask anything you want.”

  “Everything I told you on the way here is true, Krenis. I only want that cure. I came here to ask you this, though: how do you feel about genocide? About your leaders ordering the death of an entire world?”

  “I am not in a position to question my superiors, much as I suspect you wouldn’t question yours. It is my duty to serve, not to make the decisions that affect an entire war.”

  “But you see, it is your duty to think about what your leaders are doing, if for no other reason than to protect the honor and name of your people. What do you think the reaction will be among the rest of the galaxy when everyone finds out what your leaders have done? Is this what you came to this galaxy to do? To kill everyone that didn’t bow down immediately to you? I can’t believe this is how a supposedly advanced and enlightened people would conduct themselves.”

  Krenis stared at Loren, then propped himself up on the table he had been leaning over. “It is a standard interrogation technique to attempt to have the detainee empathize with and embrace the cause of the captor. If you have a question of military nature, please ask, and as per our agreement I will consider what, if anything, I can reveal. If you are here to debate the ethics of our crusade, I can’t oblige.”

  Loren almost yelled out in frustration, but caught himself. For the first time in a while, he was not the one in control of an interrogation, and he’d been on both sides of the table since the war began. “In a little while we’ll be back to get you for our mission. Until then, just know this: I don’t believe Confed would sentence a world to death. Your people, on the other hand, have. I wouldn’t want to live as a subject in a system where I had to deal with the fear of that every day, and that’s why we’ll continue to fight.”

  It was early evening, and Avenger was once again prowling the space near the Gartha System. At least, Loren thought gratefully, they had a good enough idea of what the place looked like before the Primans took over. As a former Enkarran system, they’d had a few decades of cold-war style espionage to get information on the place, and they had used it to effect as they readied for their mission.

  Avenger had reverted to normal space far out of the planetary system on a vector completely clear of anything remotely interesting. There, they planned to launch the Keeper ship before Avenger once again headed for the upper atmosphere of the gas giant they’d concealed themselves in on their first trip there. From that position, they’d be able to keep tabs on the Keeper vessel, the data station, and anything else interesting that happened, as well as being in place for a quick rescue if things went sideways.

  They were in the C3 conference room again for one last briefing, and Loren had come to the realization that he hated briefings. Instead of discussing how they were going to skulk around covertly, he’d much rather speed into the system and launch a few volleys of torpedoes at everything that looked remotely Priman. Even better, he’d have the battleship Majestic toss a few broadsides and then close in to pummel everything with her heavy laser batteries…

  He was daydreaming about this when he heard his name being called.

  “I agree,” he blurted quickly.

  Halley gave him a chastising look and he immediately sat up a little straighter, cursing himself for getting so far off task. This was important, and Halley deserved his attention.

  “Sorry,” he apologized. “Just thinking about Krenis and the Primans.”

  “That was the idea, Commander,” Captain Elco added. “Since you three and the Priman captive will be roaming the base, I want someone to be onboard the Keeper ship who can coordinate the op and be ready to analyze data.” He pointed a finger at Ensign Roxis. “I think you might be a good addition, Ensign.”

  Loren couldn’t tell if Roxis looked pleased or terrified, and he had to admit he would have been hard pressed to choose one himself.

  “If you want me there, I’m ready,” Roxis said resolutely.

  “Good man,” Elco continued. “If that’s all, then this meeting is dismissed.” He looked at each officer in turn, always mindful of the fact that he could very well be sending them on their last mission. “Head down to the hangar and get that Keeper ship ready. You can launch when you’re all set.”

  Chapter 11

  Loren sat at one of the data consoles that would normally have been manned by a Priman data tech like Krenis, who happened to be cuffed to the chair next to him. He was wearing the silver uniform of the Priman military, produced by Avenger’s own textile machinery. He didn’t like the fact that their uniforms had no holsters, belt, or utility pouches the way a Confed uniform would. It made hiding weapons much harder, and they’d finally settled on having the crew stash their SSKs in two small duffels that would hopefully give the impression of transporting a delivery for the data facility, something Keeper ships were tasked with. Just to keep up the ruse, they were carrying several pieces of Confed equipment that they intended to turn over if they had to, equipment that was no longer war-critical and very likely long since compromised.

  Web and Halley were up front, floating the ship into the forward launch spot in the Viper’s hangar. They hadn’t had time to sync up Avenger’s launch computers to the Keeper ship for an automated departure, so Web cautiously flew the ship out of the hangar bay, dropping and turning away from her course as soon as he was clear.

  Loren watched without paying too much attention. He trusted Web’s abilities as much as his own, and it was a great comfort to not have to worry about that part of the mission. There were so many other things he could spend time worrying about, he thought grimly.

  The Priman prosthetics were pretty convincing, he had to admit. They were held in place by a thin layer of synthetic skin and would have to be removed by either a special compound Halley had brought along or the ship’s surgeon. Loren knew the basics of Halley’s nanite technology, but she had never given him full disclosure, either. He knew that she’d had some upgrades since they’d last worked together. She did admit that she was able to understand the Priman language almost instantly as she heard it, using the nanites’ cloud processing ability and the dermal patch that served as a communicator and hearing-boosting device. She couldn’t speak it fluently, however. Halley had made it a point to demonstrate to Krenis that she understood anything he said, and that trying to tip off his comrades in their own language would end badly for all of them, with Krenis leading the way.

  “Two hours until we get within range to request permission to dock with the data facility,” Loren heard Web say to him from the cockpit.

  “Thanks, Web,” Loren replied absently. He turned to Krenis. “Any last minute questions?”

  “What if we’re all killed here? What will you do then to my comrades aboard Avenger?”

  “Let’s make it back so we don’t have to worry about that, ok?”

  The Keeper ship headed straight for the data facility, which was now visible through the long range scanners. It was a sprawling facility on the surface of the moon and looked like it was built in phases. The central areas were crude and utilitarian, seemingly built out of modular components and sometimes connected by airlock passages. As the structures spread out from the center, however, they became more refined looking, more like the comfortable facilities Loren expected to see on any inhabited moon or non-oxygen environment.

  “It that a prefab structure?” Halley asked Krenis. The Priman was now sitting in the copilot’s seat in anticipation of having to answer authentication calls on the radio, and Halley was standing behind him.

  “The center is,” Krenis responded. “We had the
basic components dropped down to the surface and had the facility operating in a day. We added to it as resources and mission requirements dictated.” He turned to look at them. “You still want to go right into the heart of a Priman facility? Even if you are convinced I won’t try anything, do you believe nobody else will notice?”

  “Well, let’s review,” said Halley. “You claim that Keeper crews can be eccentric, so if you lead and do all the talking while we stand quiet, that shouldn’t be a problem. You said most of the personnel not involved with the actual data sorting, which is highly secret and guarded, are transitory, so nobody will be suspicious at seeing new faces there. I don’t see where the dealbreaker is, unless there’s something you haven’t told us.”

  “No, I’ve told you everything I know. I just think this is a bad idea.”

  “Of course it is,” replied Loren reasonably. “But it’s all we’ve got, so here we are.”

  A light on the panel illuminated, accompanied by a two tone sound from the computer. They all turned to look at Web.

  “Some sort of communications handshake, it looks like,” he guessed. “Probably an IFF signal, like our transponders talking to each other to see if they recognize a new contact.”

  Then they heard an alien language come through the speaker on the panel. Loren listened to it and didn’t know what to make of it. After all he’d been through, he had expected it to sound more, well, alien. Menacing, guttural, perhaps. This was just another alien language, no more right or wrong in its’ purpose than Confed Standard. He wished it had in fact sounded screeching or offensive somehow; it would have made it easier to dehumanize and hate the Primans more. This almost made them seem, human. It was a brief message, and all eyes turned to Krenis.

  “They’re asking our authentication codes and purpose,” he said. “Standard operating procedure.”

  “Please tell them the codes and that you have artifacts to drop off,” prodded Halley.

  Krenis keyed the switch and spoke into the radio panel, then let go of the transmit stud and looked at Halley. “I told them.”

  Loren looked at her for confirmation, and she nodded in the affirmative.

  A second later, the nav console pinged and a color coded path lit up on the display.

  “Entry vector and landing spot,” offered Krenis. “No need to do anything other than land at this point. Once we’re in the facility, we’re expected to drop off any objects and data cards to our analysts. It’s all compartmentalized and secret; they don’t know who we are or what ship we were on, though they could find out with the Commander’s approval using the receipts generated during the exchange. In any case, it means that everyone is trained to mind their own business. We will have some time for you to try to access the computer network and locate any information we have regarding the DNA weapon.”

  “You’ve been very helpful, Krenis,” Halley admitted. “Though I’m not a fan of your people as a whole, you understand, you’re not so bad.”

  They landed the Keeper ship and got ready, Loren and Web carrying the duffels while Halley and Krenis took the lead. Ensign Roxis, who had been silently studying the ship and mission profile the entire way in, sat a little nervously at the comm station behind the pilot’s seat.

  “Now remember,” Halley told him, “our transmitters are very low power and scrambled, but if we use them too much they’ll probably get scanned by the Primans. So don’t call unless there’s a really, really good reason. Same for me- if I call, it’s because something either very good or very bad is happening.”

  “So let’s hope we don’t talk until you get through that hatch,” Roxis said with a shaky grin.

  “Exactly. Now let’s go see what a top secret Priman base looks like.”

  They cautiously left the ship, half expecting to be cut down in the raging blasterfire of an ambush, but there was none. Their landing bay was sparse and mostly empty save for a panel on the floor that raised up as they cleared the personnel ramp. As the panel lifted out of the floor, the top plate folded back, exposing several pipes and fittings. A panel on the ship itself suddenly appeared and also opened. The fittings and pipes raised out of the deck on the carriage until they mated with the linkups on the ship with a hiss of pressurization.

  “It’s an automated refueling and replenishment procedure,” Krenis offered. “It will top off fuel, oxygen, and the nutrient liquid that we turn into most of our shipboard meals.”

  “I’ll bet they all taste the same,” Web remarked.

  “I have never sampled our gelled fuel; it is corrosive.”

  “No sense of humor,” Web muttered as he focused on the hatch that led to the base proper.

  “Alright,” Halley spoke up. “Remember, Krenis does the talking, I do the listening, and you two just go ahead and look pretty.”

  “Already doing it,” Web replied.

  They formed up and walked through the hatch.

  Ensign Roxis felt very, very alone. He sat at his console poring over the data newly available to him now that the ship was interfaced with the data facility’s computer network. The main obstacle, of course, was his complete inability to decipher Priman. Halley had left a translation program on one of the data tablets he held, and he had propped it up so it could take screengrabs of the scrolling information in the hopes that the tablet would find something worthy as he counted down the time until they could leave. He noted with interest the coming and goings of several other Keeper and various Priman ships in the system. This was a busy place.

  The team strolled through the corridors of the facility, carefully noting their path and any possible hideouts or escape routes. They passed through several buildings as they walked, and could tell it by the difference in construction; the outer areas by the docking bay were more refined and appointed. As they approached the center, the construction became more utilitarian, almost shiplike. Krenis explained that the living quarters were furthest out, while the most sensitive areas were at the core.

  They passed only a handful of Priman officers, and they simply nodded a greeting as instructed by Krenis. That seemed to suffice, as they all seemed to be distracted to some extent. Also, if Krenis could be believed when he talked of the secret nature of the place, they probably knew enough tradecraft to keep quiet and not expect to talk much with outsiders.

  They got in a lift, and just as the door was about to close, two more Primans entered. They all exchanged businesslike nods and remained silent. Loren figured this place was definitely not the most fun place to be assigned if one was a Priman, but maybe they saw it as an honor the way Krenis did.

  There were only two floors, and the doors opened. Everyone stepped out, and the two others paused before stepping across the stark hallway to enter a room across from the lift.

  “The computer room you need is located halfway down the hall,” Krenis began. “At the end is the area where we turn in our findings. We’ll head in that direction and stop in the computer room instead. Follow me.”

  They heard a hatch swoosh open and shut again behind them, and Loren turned to see the two Primans from the elevator back in the hallway and headed in their direction. They were talking to each other and didn’t appear to be concerned with his group, but they couldn’t duck into that computer network room right in front of them, either. It would also look suspicious if they all abruptly stopped and headed back the way they came. All he could think to do was to go on and turn in the tech they’d brought just case they encountered a situation like this.

  Krenis must have sensed it, too, or maybe Halley prodded him past the room, but they all walked casually past the network room and down towards the data collection area. Loren didn’t dare risk another glance over his shoulder for fear of looking suspicious, but he could feel himself on the edge of nervous perspiration. He hoped that synthetic skin’s bond could withstand a soaking from his sweat glands.

  They arrived at the end of the hall, Krenis in the lead. He turned to the left and approached a station that remin
ded Loren of a teller’s desk at one of the Galactic Bank locations he’d used in the past. There was a large opening in the bulkhead, in which was a desk which hosted a computer terminal and a Priman data technician. Loren could see a hatch right next to the station, presumably for turning over larger items. The two Primans that had followed them down the hall entered a code and walked through that hatch.

  Krenis began talking to the tech, and Loren started getting nervous. True, Halley was supposed to understand what was being said, but he felt helpless not knowing a word of Priman. He needed to fix that, and decided that Ensign Roxis was going to take lessons with him when they got back to Avenger.

  Halley was following the conversation well enough, to her relief, where she, Loren, and Web waited a few steps back. Krenis had told the officer he had a data chip and some items to turn over. He produced a chip with the memory dump of the Keeper ship they had ridden in on. Without any time to properly learn the computer system’s language or protocols, they didn’t have the ability to sufficiently screen and edit data that they didn’t want the Primans to have. They had duplicated it for their own analysis later, but had come to the painful decision to let Krenis pass the data on. The mission was too important to risk altering the data in a way that might tip off the technicians at the facility.

  The data tech gave Krenis another chip in return. This was the new storage chip, to be filled on his next mission. As Krenis had said, it was coded somehow so that they could track Krenis and his shipmates as the ones who had turned up the information, though in daily practice the items they turned in for examination were de-identified to reduce the risk of their data techs forming any preconceived ideas or prejudices.

  The data tech then made a crack under his breath to Krenis about Halley being too short with hair too long for a proper Priman, to which she straightened up, clenched her fists, and gave the tech a dagger-filled glare that made him look away abruptly. Krenis covered by saying something to the effect that, even though his crewmates were eccentric, they were good.