Birthright: Battle for the Confederation- Crusade Page 6

  Admiral Bak sighed and poured himself a glass of water, then leaned back in his chair as he contemplated the glass. “In any case, I didn’t invite you here to vent or share conspiracy theories. I am giving you new tasking, based on your progress so far, the capabilities of your ship, and the friends that I both know and suspect you have that can help. Your orders are to find and retrieve that data. I can’t spare a whole fleet to go blasting its’ way clear across to Enkarran space, so you’ll have to keep your heads down and do this quietly. Besides, if a whole fleet went blundering around their space, you know as well as I do that their data stores would probably be moved. We have a lot of ships and personnel running down leads trying to save the population of Toral, but we’re spread too thin to commit to anything unless we know it’s a winner. I can give you whatever resources are reasonable, but a division of battleships is not going to get approved.”

  “So we have nineteen days to get the data and have a vaccine ready for the entire population of Toral.” Elco summarized.

  “When can we leave?” Loren asked.

  Elco and Loren were in the briefing room of C3 on Avenger, going over their plans. Datapads and a few old-school scratch pads were scattered across the conference room tabletop. There was a chime at the door, and it swooshed open to show Commander Web Exeter standing there, looking a bit unsure of what was going on.

  “Reporting as ordered, Captain,” Exeter began.

  “Come in, have a seat Web,” Elco said distractedly as he stared at two datapads side by side, comparing something of importance on them.

  “Welcome,” Loren said with a smile that seemed more genuine than Web had seen in a while. Loren got up and went over to shake Web’s hand as he showed him to his seat. “Sorry for the rush, but we need to get right down to business. What we’re discussing is classified, so all the usual rules, threats and disclaimers about punishment and your doomed future apply.”

  “So,” Web replied with a grin, “it’s the Standard Briefing? Things are bad, and don’t tell anyone about it?”

  “Things might be getting better, actually,” Elco replied, setting down the datapads and waiting for Web to get settled. “We have a new mission: find a hidden Priman data repository in Enkarran space that serves as a storage depot for everything the Primans have. That includes the DNA weapon.”

  “I assume we have some foggy idea of how to go about it?” asked Web.

  “We need intel, and we need it fast,” started Loren. “We have everything that Confed Intelligence has, and it’s not much. We have authorization and funds to go outside normal channels; frankly, we are authorized to do what it takes. I mentioned to the Captain that you have, ah, certain means of contacting Halley.” Lieutenant Halley Pascal, the SAR operative that had worked with them before, had begun some sort of relationship with Web that only he knew the details of. Loren knew, however, that she had given Web the means to contact her outside of military channels, and the speed of an informal channel was what they needed right now.

  “I have contacted her on occasion,” Web said noncommittally.

  “Good,” replied Loren. “Get a hold of her, and tell her we need her help. Information, at least, or she can come along if she likes. I figure you’d be motivated to get her aboard if we can justify a reason.”

  “I would be open to the possibility if the mission required it,” Web said straight-faced.

  “Oh, give it up, Web, I know you’re barely holding yourself back from doing cartwheels right now,” Loren said with a grin.

  “Not cartwheels, I’m not that athletic. Maybe some sort of victory dance, though.” Web was now all smiles as well.

  “So, tell her what I just told you. We need help finding that installation, and we’re authorized to go do it. Admiral Bak won’t be asking many questions about procedure or our process, so tell her this will be run the way an op ought to be.”

  “Along those lines,” Elco added. “Loren, you’re still friends with that subversive information broker, right?”

  “The Fixer, Mr. Drayven?” Loren replied. “Not exactly drinking buddies, but we’re both pragmatic enough about life that we’ve kept a line open between us, yes. He’ll want payment for anything he gives us, of course.”

  “We have the funds, so that’s not a problem. Besides, a guy like him must do business on Toral; even he might want to help if it means not letting millions of potential clients die.”

  Loren darkened for a second at the thought of Toral’s population going down that road, but he recovered quickly.

  “I’ll contact him as soon as we’re done here, then.”

  Chapter 4

  Representative Velk paced the corridors of the space station in a foul mood. The station was modular, and could be fitted out with whatever equipment was needed for its’ assigned task. Usually, the framework was completed as a shipyard; this station was outfitted as a habitat. Crew modules as well as storage and research pods were plugged into where construction slips should have been, creating a huge complex whose sole purpose was information and research.

  Velk assumed it was punishment by Commander Tash, designed to show him the error of not using every weapon the Primans had; now, Representative Velk was in charge of a facility designed solely for coming up with new ways to destroy the enemy.

  Deep in Enkarran space, he didn’t see many visitors with recent news of the war. Everyone this far in was concerned with settling the planets of the former Enkarran Empire. Containment and relocation efforts were underway on the Enkarran planets of their territory, and sooner or later the Primans would send them off somewhere else entirely. Velk deeply wished somebody could give him the insight that was missing from the official daily info updates.

  All he could do, then, was perform his duty to the best of his ability, the same way he’d always done. The fact that he and Tash didn’t agree on many things didn’t change the fact that Velk still honored his people, and would obey the Commander. He just believed that the return of his people could have gone down a different path than the one Tash was leading them on. Instead of wiping them out, Velk still believed the children of the Primans would eventually see the light and welcome them, and if not submit utterly to their rule, at the very least find a way to live together. He feared that ship had now sailed.

  “Mr. Stone,” the person on the screen said with good humor, “nice to hear from you again. I hope business is going well for you.” The face of Garrett Drayven smiled at Loren, though how much of it was an act, Loren couldn’t be sure. While he knew Garrett was friendly enough to him, he had no idea how much of this was his game face and how much was genuine.

  “Mr. Drayven,” Loren replied. Garrett had no way of knowing (probably) about his wife, but there was no need to let on to that, either. “I am in the market for some information.” Loren had contacted Garrett through the comm channels he had been instructed to use if he ever needed Mr. Garrett’s services. The channels were supposedly secure enough that they could be fairly free in their comments.

  “Then you’ve called the right man. What can I do for you?”

  “I need to know everything you have on the Primans and their movements in occupied territories, very specifically Enkarran space. I’d really like to know everything that’s going on in there, and I need it tomorrow.”

  “You must have a very high opinion of my abilities, Mr. Stone,” Garrett replied, a bit more serious now. “Looking for something, are you?”

  “Don’t be such a Fixer, Mr. Drayven,” Loren replied, showing a smirk that he hoped covered up his exasperation with having to deflect the question.

  “This is the sort of thing we’d have to meet for, and it would need to be someplace safe. Where are you now?”

  “We’re a few hours from Carlor.” Loren said. “If you haven’t heard already, we took it from the Primans yesterday.”

  Garrett pursed his lips and paused, mind working. He had some info already, and he had a few ideas on where to get more. He assumed Lore
n was after heavy stuff, so it was going to cost him if he could get anything useful tonight. Therefore, it was going to cost Loren and the Confeds as well. “Tell you what. Give me six hours, and I’ll call you back through this same channel. If you’re that close to Carlor, there are a few places I can think of off the top of my head that you could make tomorrow evening no problem, most likely a trade station orbiting Lordes. Familiar?”

  “It’s an independent world. Lots of manufacturing there, hence the huge trade port. Easy to get lost in the crowd.”

  “I’ll comm you back with a price and give you an idea of what I have. Stay tuned.”

  Elsewhere on Avenger, in his small but private stateroom, Web Exeter was about to make a much more pleasant and anticipated call. He, too, had a private means of contacting someone interesting. Unlike Loren’s contact, Web’s was female, beautiful, charismatic, and deadly. And he was pretty sure she thought he was alright as well.

  The comm request pinged a few times, and he expected it to go to a mailbox. He was not at all expecting the request to be picked up, audio only, at the other end.

  “Web,” he heard Halley’s silky smooth voice, “you just can’t stop thinking about me, can you?”

  He let loose a big, dumb smile. “Are you familiar with who you are? What guy could resist your charms?”

  “Ahh, good answer.”

  “I wasn’t expecting you to answer. Do you have a minute?”

  “Well, I’m mobile, so that’s why this is audio only. Just the earpiece, no visuals. I’m sort of in the middle of something, but I have some time before things get interesting.”

  “Playing it safe, I hope?”

  “Not at all,” she replied instantly. “More like alive and living dangerously.”

  “Dare I ask what that means?”

  “Well, if you must know, I’m setting the final charges for a little demolition project I’ve been working on.”

  The absurdity of it was not lost on Web, but he believed her without doubt. Halley was just off kilter enough to have a running conversation while subversively arming explosives. “Well, now, that’s interesting,” he replied. “Our comms through the Galactic Data Net are pretty much instantaneous, which means you must be on one of, oh, say eleven planets closest to where we are.”

  “You’re five hours from Carlor,” she replied matter-of-factly. “There are twelve planets I could be on, most of them not Confed.”

  “Someday you will regale me with many stories about what you do, you sexy agent of destruction.”

  “If you’re lucky. Anyway, what’s up?”

  “We have a line on a place to search for the Priman DNA weapon. Not just info, but what’s left of their research, a cure, and lots of other tech they’re working on. We’ll need to head into Enkarran space. I wonder if you have any info or resources we could use. We’ve been authorized to go a little off the books on this one, for obvious reasons.”

  He heard Halley breathing a little heavy, and it sounded like she was running. At the same time, her own mind was racing. She had info that might help, plus she knew that if they were doing this, she had to be there.

  “I can be at Carlor in a day and a half,” she replied. “I do have some info that can help, and if you’re headed into Enkarran space in search of Priman tech, I need to be there.”

  “Plus, you want to see me, of course.”

  “Sure, I suppose,” she said slowly, as if she were thinking about it. “Alright, it’s a nice bonus.”

  “Don’t you have to get permission or anything?”

  “SAR troops go where the action is, Web. If you think there’s a chance you’ll find a cure, or even some good intel on the Primans, that’s where I need to be.”

  Web heard a long, rolling boom in the background on her comm circuit. It sounded suspiciously like a series of muffled explosions.

  “Um, Halley,” Web said, “is there something you want to tell me?”

  “Yeah. I might need to go. I’ve sort of caused a disturbance here.”

  “There you go understating the obvious. What you consider a disturbance, most of us would probably classify as destruction on a planetary scale.”

  “See, you really do understand me. I like that about you, Web. Gotta go now; I’ll comm you in a few hours and work up meeting details.”

  Loren was walking the corridors, headed down to the Warbirds’ hangar to talk with Cory, when he ran into Web.

  “I contacted Garrett,” Loren began as they walked side by side towards the stern of the ship.

  “Doing anything interesting these days?” asked Web.

  “Didn’t sound like it; just making deals and working the angles. How about Halley?”

  “Got a hold of her as well. She was blowing something up when I called.”

  Senator Dennix sat at the head of the Governing Committee table and waited patiently for the vote to come in. He didn’t have much doubt about the outcome; of the twelve members, himself included, ten of them were firmly in his camp for one reason or the other. The other two obviously couldn’t pull a majority on anything, so were effectively toothless. He smiled.

  “Votes are tallied,” announced Enric Shae from the wall where he stood by a large display. The graphic showed a brief text highlight of the issue- taxes on certain fringe groups and hobbies- that the Committee was voting on. Dennix had laid out a plan, wherein taxes were raised or levied on smaller, less public groups of people, such as fees for recreational spacecraft and certain vices that were legal. There would be no major outcry, because it didn’t affect most of the populace. Soon enough, the measures would spread, but by then people would be used to it. Besides, they’d be too concerned about not only the Primans, but the Talarans as well. The tax money was being used to pay for improvements and projects that Dennix had been forced to offer as incentives to Senators to see his way, as well as funding military occupation of the worlds the Confederation was going to claim as part of their plan to fortify their borders. Unfortunately, Dennix wasn’t as familiar with military theory as an actual military officer was, or he would have seen the folly in creating ‘fortress’ worlds against the Primans and others, since all an adversary would have to do was go around the system on their way to whatever their actual objective was. The money would have been far better used in funding more capital ships, but that wasn’t what this was about.

  Dennix knew public perception was key. All through this war, they had watched Confed planets disappear to Priman occupation. Now, whether it was effective or not, Dennix was making it policy to convince the people that he was their best hope against the onrushing Priman tide.

  Captain Elco, along with Loren, Cory, Merritt, and Web, sat around the conference table in C3, the panoramic windows behind them showing a beautiful vista of the planet below them. It was unpopulated and unclaimed, which might seem odd when an observer considered its’ all-encompassing, deep blue oceans, white sand beaches, and temperate climate. The only problem was that there was almost no usable landmass. While several companies had tried to introduce the idea of high-end floating cities and resort/tourist activities, there were no takers. No government or power in the area, including Confed, saw any reason to pledge resources and attention to what would amount to a risky real estate venture, for whoever started a business there would most likely try to petition for protection or membership in some greater alliance or governing body.

  So, despite all that it had to offer, it didn’t even have a name, just a Galactic Data Net reference code, whose acronym was also unmanageable. People simply called it the Waterpark.

  “And he gave us access codes and recognition signals, so we’re good to go,” Web was concluding. He pointed to a holo map hovering over the table.

  “So, you leave now, meet Mr. Drayven tomorrow morning, get back here late in the evening, and hopefully you have what we need?” Elco clarified.

  “Yes.” Web said confidently. “Well, probably. You know him, sir, he was pretty vague, but he seemed very
insistent that we not only receive his info but do it personally.”

  “He was also very adamant about his price,” muttered Cory.

  “No doubt,” replied Elco. “Alright, here’s the plan then. Loren and Web, you two will go.” He looked up as Cory and Merritt went more upright in their chairs, obviously primed to argue why they should have a part in the mission. “Calm down, everyone. Loren, he knows you best, so you’re in. Web, you have the broadest range of talents which might come in handy dealing with an off the books op. Cory, Merritt, you two are both indispensable here. Plus, I can do without Loren and Web for two days, you two not so much.”

  “I don’t know if I’m proud or insulted by that.” said Loren.

  “Whatever motivates you,” replied Elco. “Now, there’s the question of how you’ll get there. You can’t take a Confed ship, and civilian passenger lines will just take too long. It’s my understanding we still have around here that little transport Cory and Merritt bought on Callidor, though I’m not entirely sure how it hasn’t been repossessed by Confed Intel yet. I hear we have it in storage aboard the carrier Gallant.” Elco looked at Cory, obviously hoping for an answer.

  “Well,” she began slowly, but apparently relishing the telling of the story. “Halley was very specific about how to pay for it. We bought it with funds she’d provided and registered it under a shell corporation she had set up. It just so happens that the fake IDs we used are also listed as board members of said shell corp.” She was grinning openly now, having given up on trying to conceal her joy at being able to call this ship hers, if even for a little while.