Birthright: Battle for the Confederation- Reprisal Page 34

  Everyone who has attended a military training academy could recite a dozen cultures that were wiped off the face of the galaxy after tossing bigger and bigger weapons at each other, and most people knew better than to tempt fate by being the next to try.

  The problem was, all militaries still had plans for the big bombs- the ‘crowd pleasers’ as weapons designers jokingly called them; unstable heavy metal nukes boosted with antimatter elements were popular these days. Just in case, of course.

  Now, the rumor mill said that Dennix was pushing the Navy to restart the heavy weapons programs in Confed. That would push the Talarans into it, maybe the Primans, and then on down the galactic arm and into the galactic core regions. Spiron knew that even if they weren’t receiving any help from the hundreds of other powerful cultures on their side of the galaxy, everyone was watching what went on out here, and if somebody in the war zone armed themselves in such a manner, everybody else would, too. And that was an escalation that scared Spiron as much as the Primans themselves.

  Against this macabre backdrop, a rendezvous that required traveling alone in enemy territory for two days was by comparison a lighthearted trek, and Spiron accepted it with relief. At least their ship was back in the fight. This was a bombardment-only mission, and thus their complement of 5000 Marines was still on Delos helping restore order, which gave the ship a decidedly empty, hollow feel. Carrying around those troops was the real purpose of his ship, and he felt a little incomplete without them. Still, if he could do something to hurt the Priman cause, he’d fly through the black hole clusters at the center of the galaxy if it would help.

  The last day and a half had gone quickly, and they were approaching their rendezvous location with Avenger. Even with their sensors on full and knowing where to look, they still had not found her. Between the ship’s technology and Captain Elco, Avenger would hopefully be a thorn in the side of the Primans for a long time to come.

  After changing into guard uniforms acquired by Halley and hiding her car, the four of them made their way to one of the secure guard entrances of the base. Garrett had replaced his gloves with stick-on tabs on his fingertips that would give false prints, though he still wore the pressure mask on his face. Since he had long ago arranged to have his real DNA profile altered, he didn’t bother with trying to make sure he left no DNA evidence behind.

  The three Confeds wore no disguise, and to Garrett’s continuing relief all seemed comfortable in their roles. All their equipment was stuffed into two duffel bags, which Loren and Web carried.

  After using their falsified ID cards to enter, they followed Halley, who had the layout of the Callidorian portion of the base memorized.

  They wandered quickly through the corridors, heading for an equipment locker area that Halley claimed would be unoccupied in the middle of the night.

  Once there, Garrett secured the door and they got to work. Web opened the duffels and extracted the contents, setting up shop as it were. Out came several monitors and wireless remote interface units, which Halley arranged on a small worktable and activated. She had laid the groundwork days earlier for this by planting several worm viruses, and as a result she had opened several ports in the network’s security for entry. In minutes, she was connected, and the wealth of information was impressive, even to Garrett.

  “Want to sell me the contents of that memory stick when this is over?” asked Garrett.

  “You don’t know what we’ll find,” replied Halley.

  “No, but I’ll bet there’s something I could use.”

  “Let’s call it a down payment on our next arrangement then.”

  “You assume I’ll be able to keep helping you?”

  “I think you’ll see the light and want to help us beat back the Primans, yes,” was Halley’s confident reply.

  “I’ll keep myself open to suggestions.”

  Web managed to get up close to Halley and inspect the system, which just also happened to get him close enough to her to get Garrett’s attention.

  “So, you have everything tapped?” asked Web.

  “Only the Callidorian side of the facility, but it’s enough to get us going. The Priman side was built later and there are no blueprints, but by the layout here and comparing it to other Priman facilities I’ve researched, I can guess where we’ll need to go.”

  They watched the monitors for a minute while Loren finished assembling the HMR-12 rifles. Halley had audio as well as video feeds, plus access to their computer network. The hard part was trying to determine where to attempt infiltration of the Priman facility.

  She had focused in on two guards standing at a checkpoint to the Priman side who appeared to be ex-Callidorian military. They wore Callidorian military uniforms, but their equipment was Priman. The unknown variable was where their loyalties were.

  Halley brought up the audio from the surveillance feed on the station.

  They spoke in an odd version of the native language, and the three men exchanged puzzled glances. Only Garrett spoke passable Callidorian, and Loren and Web were out in the cold. Halley, however, was at an advantage. Her nanite cloud contained language libraries for every culture in the galactic arm, and could have her dermal communicator patch translate on-the-fly for her. It wouldn’t magically help her speak it, but this was more than enough for the job.

  “They’re speaking a regional dialect from Southern Callidor,” Halley stated as she listened. “They probably don’t want any wandering Primans to hear them griping. They’re complaining about the hours, the procedures; they don’t seem all that interested in the job. My guess is they’re conscripts. Doesn’t seem like they’ve been over to the Priman side, either, though they were just talking about how nobody uses their checkpoint anyway, and they wonder why they’re even at the post.”

  Loren was the only one who knew that her nanites had something to do with her abilities, but Garrett couldn’t resist asking.

  “And when did you learn to fluently speak obscure Callidorian dialects?”

  “Hey, I’ve been here a while. I needed a hobby…”

  Waiting for their moment, Halley, Web, and Garrett led the way to the checkpoint. Loren stayed in the equipment locker for the time being, but was ready to move out to rejoin the rest. Their signal intercept gear was hidden, and most of their equipment was back in the duffel bags with the assault rifles. They would just set up the monitors and receive the pirated signals from another location closer to the Priman side of the building when the time came. As Halley approached the guard station, Loren watched her progress on the tapped security feed on his monitor. He started a short video loop so anyone else watching the monitors wouldn’t see what happened next.

  Halley led the way to the checkpoint and the startled guards manning the place. They quickly stood up at attention and made a big deal of eyeballing the newcomers as they approached the small workstation that sat in front of the reinforced blast door at the end of the hallway.

  “Can we help you?” one of them asked with just a slight tone of derision in his voice. There must have been a hierarchy among the people working the civilian side of the base, and apparently hired security ranked below conscripted soldiers.

  “I hope so,” Halley began. “We were minding our own business when we got a call to head over here and relieve you so you could go somewhere else.”

  “And where would that be?”

  “Not sure. Just that it’s not here. Not my problem, really. Here, you can use my data screen…” Halley walked up to one and stood to his right as she thrust her small screen into his chest. His first reaction was to grab it with both hands. It was a reflex that cost him two teeth. Halley drove her knee up into his stomach, and as he doubled over, she pushed on the back of his neck and drove him headfirst into the metal surface of the workstation.

  For his part, Web had simply drawn his SSK and stuck it into the neck of the second guard, who let Garrett remove his blaster, comm device, and utility belt.

  Garrett looked at Hall
ey in a new light. Not that he ever would have, but he made a note to never underestimate or cross her.

  She caught Garrett’s startled look and paused over her victim. “What?”

  “I thought we were doing this covertly and discreetly.” Garrett replied.

  “Oh, I thought we were going with quick and violent. Either way, let’s drag these two through.”

  Garrett spoke softly to Web. “She may have issues.”

  “I heard that,” she replied with a grunt as she started dragging one guard’s unconscious form.

  They used one of the guard’s ID cards to access the controls at the workstation, and the door to the Priman side of the base opened for them. It looked similar to the Callidorian side, though the hallway was just a bit wider and much more utilitarian looking. There was no paint or attempt to soften the environment; it was all work.

  Halley and Web quickly strode down the hall and each inspected the first door on opposite sides of the hallway. Web discovered the best spot, a mechanical room that seemed to house air filtration and conditioning equipment. They dragged the two Callidorian guards in and secured them. Seconds later, Loren was with them. He had found a small antigrav cart, and it was burdened with a mound of boxes and containers.

  “What’s that?” asked Garrett.

  “Camouflage,” Loren replied. “You inspired me, actually. While you and I man the checkpoint we just cleared out, Halley and Web are going to be rooting around in here for the weapon the Primans are working on. I have the security screens just under this lid,” Loren demonstrated as he lifted the lid of a box, revealing the screens that showed all the security feeds Halley had hacked, “so you can keep an eye on things as you go. I also tossed in a few micro cams that you can place where you like; their feeds will show up on the big monitor when activated. The Hammers are in there as well. So, if a Priman stops you, you just tell him you’ve been ordered to drop off some stuff. Then while he’s distracted, Halley can bash him like she does to everyone else she meets.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment,” Halley added. “And good idea, by the way.” She looked at Loren and Garrett. “You two ready?”

  “Just let us know when you want our help,” replied Loren. “I have a handheld monitor as well, so we can keep an eye on your backs once you put up some cameras in there.”

  “Have you been leaving our surprises behind?” asked Halley. Since they assumed that they would ultimately set off some alarms, they had decided to leave explosives at selected locations as they wandered through the base.

  “Definitely. I’m looking forward to having some fun.”

  “Just don’t blow anything up until I find the weapon.”

  Loren nodded, and he and Garrett hurried through the blast door back to the Callidorian side of the complex to man the checkpoint they’d just cleared out.

  Halley and Web slowly made their way through the mostly silent building. Using a mixture of the Callidorian security feed as well as the cameras Halley and Web were placing as they went, Loren was able to guide them deeper into the Priman side of the complex while keeping an eye out on their exit route.

  Garrett nudged Loren’s arm with his own as he noticed two Callidorian guards come walking down the hall towards them.

  “I’ve got these two,” said Garrett.

  They were definitely there to see Loren and Garrett, and walked directly up to them, boots thudding on the polished metal floor. The one in charge led the way, both of them native Callidorians, and they looked identical enough to possibly be related. Clean shaven and in their late twenties, they had the air of ex-military about them, and stood at ramrod-straight attention that was a byproduct of service in most any military force in the galaxy.

  “We’re here to replace Lecersen and Simkon,” said the first. Then he eyed Loren and Garrett, and continued, “You’re not them.”

  “Of course not,” Garrett said immediately. The most important thing when you have nothing to fall back on was to be aggressive and sure of yourself. Confidence went a long way when you had no other resources to draw on. “We replaced them fifteen minutes ago. Why are you here? Because if you say you’re here to replace us, I’m going to bust an artery. This has happened three times this week already.” Garrett’s voice was raised just enough to show his irritation, but not enough to risk drawing a crowd from another part of the complex.

  “Now hold on there,” said the second replacement guard. “We’re just doing the random rotation. Those two never showed up to relieve us, so we got sent here for them. Where did they go?”

  “Why would we know that?” asked Garrett. He was starting to worry that they’d have to detain these two as well, because the longer they badgered him and Loren, the greater the chance they’d decide to do a more thorough check than just eyeballing their fake ID badges. “Can we get back to being bored here, or are you going to keep us company all night?”

  The first guard eyed them for a while, still silent as he ran through his options. Loren was letting his hand drop to his holstered SSK when the guard finally relented.

  “Okay, let’s just call it in,” he replied. “Dispatch can tell us all where we should be.”

  Loren made a show of exasperation as he stepped away from the guard console and gestured for the two guards to take their place. A quick glance at Garrett told him they were both on the same page, and as the replacement guards focused on the control board, they were rewarded with blasters pointed at them.

  “We really, really want to run this checkpoint,” said Loren. He tossed them the two pairs of restraining cuffs he kept in his bag. “Put them on, you know how they work.”

  Despite their shocked expressions, Garrett had them disarmed and shoved into the same utility room as their compatriots in short order. Bound, gagged, and secured to immovable fixtures, Garrett gave Loren a foreboding look as they once again stood at their guard station. “They’re going to notice real soon that guards keep disappearing at this checkpoint.”

  “No doubt,” Loren replied. He activated his comm unit and told Halley that time was running out and somebody would notice all the missing guards sooner rather than later.

  “That was Loren,” she told Web after she was done with his call. “They had to detain two more guards. Time is short.”

  They had explored almost every room except for the two at the end of the hallway they stood in now. Both opened up into large laboratories, and both appeared to feature physical and electronic locks on the doors.

  “These look promising,” she began. “You pick which one we try first, Web. Left or right?”

  “I think I noticed you were left handed, so left it is.”

  “How observant,” she said with a small grin. She handed a small lock picking tool to Web, who placed the paper-thin clear patch over the touchscreen which was showing a keypad as well as a spot for a thumbprint. The patch was connected wirelessly to a small handheld datapad which began to run a codebreaking program to crack the lock’s combination. Halley, meanwhile, checked the monitor Loren had put in the cart.

  “Time to hurry; I see two Primans in uniform patrolling the hallways behind us.”

  “Working on it,” was his terse reply as he tapped in a few commands intended to eliminate some unnecessary algorithms and speed up the process.

  “No pressure,” she returned.

  Finally the display turned green and the lock clicked- they were in.

  “Come on!” Web urged. He held the door open as Halley dragged their cart inside. He gently closed the door again, turning the latch so it wouldn’t click as the door closed. They stayed motionless as they watched the screen on the cart as the Primans walked to the end of their hall, turned, and headed back the way they came.

  “Ok, so what does a genocide-inducing DNA weapon look like?” asked Web.

  “I don’t know, look for something with scary looking warning labels or skulls and crossbones on the side,” she replied, and they split up to start their search.

&
nbsp; In the Dispatch room, Lieutenant Castor was becoming annoyed. He didn’t like being annoyed; it gave him indigestion. Four guards were now failing to report in from the secondary Priman checkpoint. Was there some sort of stellar phenomenon swallowing up his men? The overweight guard foreman liked this posting. It was easy enough, and the Primans pretty much left him alone. This left him more time for searching the dealership information sites for new hovercraft. He planned to buy himself something larger and more befitting his role as a supervisor at this facility. While many of his men grumbled that they didn’t enjoy being forced into the job by the Primans, he reasoned that as long as the pay was good and he wasn’t in any danger, it was a nice job.

  He checked the video feed and saw the two guards standing there, talking to each other. What a couple of schoolgirls, chatting up a storm. He figured he’d call them and rattle their cage a bit.

  “Guard post, this is Lieutenant Castor, report!” That should startle them.

  The thing was, they didn’t notice. They just kept on as if they hadn’t heard him. He checked the diagnostic readout, and everything showed green and functional. He had access to many systems in Dispatch, and one of them was control of the doors. Determined to find out whether they were ignoring him or their panel was broken, he flicked the switch to open the door behind them and watched the monitor. That would get their attention and force a call-in. He waited. The door in the video was closed, but his board said the door was open.