Birthright: Battle for the Confederation- Consequence (4 page)

              Halley had done all she could.  Everything had been planned, organized, backed up and prepared for; all she could do was get on with it.

              She hefted her backpack full of explosives and checked the charge on her blaster, then stuffed it in her back waistband.

              Time to go.

              Halley got near the building by impersonating an employee of the office next door on the second tier of buildings.  The woman looked close enough to her, and after accepting a bribe to take the week off on vacation, Halley had wasted no time in working that routine into her plan.

              The woman always got to work early, often sitting outside on the ground level before heading up to her second tier office building.  That relaxation time on the ground level worked to Halley's benefit.

              She approached the small green space that these buildings shared early several mornings after her meet with Mouse, company ID badge stuck to the outside left breast of her tunic.  Formal business style was incredibly stuffy here on Callidor, with three and four piece suits, elaborate headwear for men and women alike and so much more.  The good news was all the layers helped conceal her features somewhat.  She strolled around to the back of the building and approached her target: a service door where foodstuffs were delivered and trash sent out for processing.

              Halley checked the street to make sure nobody was looking, then slewed right up to the door and bumped it with her left shoulder while holding a cracking scanner to the lockset with her right hand.  In a mere two seconds, the locks disengaged and the door slid into its pocket.  She was in.

              Halley's business was simple; level the building.  It was entirely devoted to the Primans and their business, and though it was originally a Callidorian structure she couldn't let it stand any longer.  Especially with what was on the roof.

              That didn't mean everyone inside had to die, though, especially since many were locals coerced into working there and not actual Primans.  Two or three minutes of advance notice and the whole place would clear out quite nicely.

              She snuck into the sub-levels undetected, placing charges on all four corners of the building which could be remote detonated.  They were also on a ten minute timer that was already running.

              Halley returned to the first floor and walked out of the service stairs into a side lobby and a squad of four Priman soldiers, weapons all aimed at her.

              "Halt!" the one in front commanded.  "That is a restricted area."

              "I work next door, sorry!" she tried, putting on her most convincing embarrassed look.  "I just ducked inside so I could-"

              "I'm scanning your ID," the leader said again, and motioned another soldier forward to do so.  The Priman held a scanner up to Halley's borrowed ID, then waved it over her so it could obtain a DNA sample.  Almost immediately the scanner started beeping and honking as if possessed.

              "You are not the woman on the badge."  It was a statement.  The soldiers all brought the stocks of their weapons to their shoulders.

              "Oh wow," Halley exclaimed, looking around in wonder.  "This is definitely not the cafeteria.  You all seem so angry!  I just wanted a salad."

              The leader shook his head and rolled his eyes, then let go of the rifle with his left hand to touch the comm stud on his collar.  "I have a suspect to take in-"

              He didn't finish the sentence because Halley charged him, left arm swinging inside-out to sweep the gun barrel out of the way so she could give him a palm strike to the solar plexus.  After that, she whirled, never staying anywhere, feet always moving, using her momentum to put extra force behind her attacks.  The Primans were at a disadvantage at first; they weren't prepared for hand to hand combat, and with their leader in the midst nobody dared to just start shooting. 

              Halley had barely finished hitting the leader when she spun two hundred seventy degrees and put a back kick into the chest of another soldier.  She ducked a punch and a rifle stock jabbed at her face, returned the punch and grabbed his hand with her free one as he staggered.  She twisted around and with a flick of her wrist sent him tumbling backwards to the ground. 

              The last soldier tried an overhand swing with his combat knife.  She blocked, spun outside his reach, collapsed his arm and continued his swing, bringing the knife right into his own chest. 

              She grabbed a fallen rifle and headed for the lobby where she saw a squad of six more come bursting through the doors from the walkway outside. 
Well, at least their response times were respectable
, she thought.

              She let loose a burst of full auto laser fire, shattering floor-to-ceiling windows and stitching holes in the lobby walls, then ducked back through the doors and ran off towards the back entrance.  She triggered the fire/hazard/evacuate handle next to one of the exterior doors and kept a running count of the explosives' timers: seven minutes.

              "This is the saboteur who destroyed the building and so many of our soldiers?" asked the lead interrogator of his comrade.  He was safely in the underground prison, many stories below the chaos on the surface above.  The woman in question had brought a fifteen story building down, though oddly enough sometime after triggering alerts that caused the occupants to evacuate.  Still, she'd had a running battle with several squads of the occupation garrison, finally becoming cornered outside just as the building fell.  She had still almost escaped, and her dust-covered body had to be dragged out from under the clever hide she'd made between two overturned hovercars.

              "She is the one, yes," replied the garrison commander.  His job was on the line; it was his soldiers who'd failed to stop the lone insurgent, and he knew he was at the mercy of the interrogator, who in addition to being in charge of the secret prison also outranked him straight away.

              "What were her goals?"

              "We're just sifting through the rubble now, sir.  We're trying to piece together what may be missing, where the blasts originated, if there was sensitive material near the explosives sites.  From the level of her demonstrated ability, I felt she was not a random local.  She has been well trained, perhaps a Confed soldier or spy, private mercenary, something along those lines.  Since this facility is the closest capable of handling prisoners such as her, I thought she would be best placed here so you may handle her in whatever way becomes appropriate."

                "Hmm," the garrison commander grumbled.  This was supposed to be a prison for the political prisoners only; there were other facilities for more dangerous occupants.  Confed and Talaran soldiers as well as a few others had accumulated over the last six months or so, and as his subordinate had pointed out, there weren't many other places to put POWs right now.  He moved the soldiers out as fast as he could, but there were always a few around.  He wondered what the Confeds did with his own people when captured.

              "You were right to bring her here, at least," he allowed.  "She will be a pleasure to break."

              "She can hear you," Halley muttered as she carefully tested out muscles and joints.  Between the explosion and enthusiastic efforts of her captors, she'd received her fair share of retribution from the troops.

              "That's good," the interrogator said as he approached her, though careful to stay well outside the arc of where she could lean or lash out.  Despite being restrained by the hands and feet to the confinement chair, something about her gave him pause and he decided to assume she was going to be trouble.  There was also the small consideration that she had understood them speaking in their own language, not the regional standard she spoke in reply.  She had just become more interesting.  "You know, you killed ten of my soldiers today.  That is unfortunate for you."

              "I only killed six; there were four more out there in varying degrees of pain and suffering.  Unless you didn't rescue your own people from the building."

              She was good, the interrogator admitted.  Throwing his arguments back at him, trying to put him on the defensive; she knew what she was doing. 

              "Give her the chemicals," he said to his assistant on the side, "no sense wasting any time before questioning."  He turned to Halley.  "Sooner or later, you'll tell me what I want to know, like who you work for and what your business was in that building.  You'll tell me with a smile on your face, and it will burn you up inside because you'll be powerless to stop it."

              Web had heard the commotion the previous day after the thunderous explosion at the corner of the courtyard.  He'd seen the building collapse slowly, then saw nothing more as the guards mercilessly shoved all the prisoners in the yard back inside and down to their cells.

              They were interrogating the new guy, Web assumed.  He'd just barely seen the Primans making someone take the walk of shame past all the cells down towards the interrogation rooms.  He hadn't heard any noise, though.  Often, especially with the Confed troops who had basic conditioning to resist psychological interrogation, there were screams, yelling, cursing.  He figured it meant this new one was either a politician, because they often admitted to just coughing up whatever the Primans asked, or he was one tough old bastard. 

              Web hoped it was the latter.

              Loren sat in the booth at the rear of the restaurant, back to the wall as he surveyed the occupants.  From their previous business there, he remembered and had verified the sight lines and exits.  He'd also ordered a simple food item that was almost impossible to screw up, with a glass of water that had come from the station's own purifiers.

              He shifted in his seat, feeling the reassuring heft of his SSK in his waistband holster and covered up by his civilian jacket.

              Garrett walked in exactly ten minutes early, something Loren had seen him do on a regular basis.  He also assumed the fixer had cased the place thoroughly well beforehand.  Loren gave the man a casual two-fingered wave as they made eye contact.

              "This seat taken?" Garrett asked in good humor as he slid into the booth opposite Loren.

              "I ordered up a few hundred credits' worth of food and told the waitstaff the person who joined me would pay," the Confed man replied with a grin.  "You want to have a seat, it's all yours."

              "I know better than that.  You ordered a prepackaged sandwich and water.  Your food will be here in less than a minute."

              "You just know everything, don't you?"

              "That's why I'm so good at my work."  Garrett got serious.  "So, my friend and I are parked in one of the docks.  Naturally, he's still aboard.  When did you arrive?"

              "Last night, commercial flight.  You know how horrible it is to sit in back and let somebody else do the flying?  I almost couldn't take it."

              The waiter arrived with Loren's sandwich.  Garrett declined food but ordered a low-grade alcoholic drink.

              "Ok, I need to fill you in before I take a bite of this sandwich, just in case it all goes wrong again and I need a stomach transplant.  We're ready to take your guest off your hands.  Everything's set."

              Garrett surprised himself as he realized he felt a bit protective of Velk.   Loren was no doubt going to go put themselves in harm's way.  It was what the demented Confed officer seemed to be good at, and to his credit he always seemed to get the job done.

              "Taking him to see some old friends?"

              "Now, we're pals and all, but you know I really shouldn't tell you what I'm planning on doing."

              Garrett smiled.  "Information is my life.  You know I have to ask."

              Loren looked Garrett in the eye.  "I can tell you this: if it works, everything will change.  I plan to try and end this war.  And some people here won't like that one bit."

              "Are you referring to a certain overbearing senator whose initials are Zek Dennix?"

              "Maybe.  I'm just saying you might want to keep an eye on him if things start shaking up around here.  I would take a personal interest in where he'd want to go if he tries to get out of town."

              "Noted.  Maybe I can bill Confed one last time before you sort everything out, eh?" 

              The fixer continued.  "You know, if you were still flying combat missions, I think I'd lobby to have your call sign be 'Mayhem'.  It suits you."  Loren only grinned.

              Garrett looked at Loren with a critical eye, a bit of concern creeping into his voice.  "How's that sandwich?"

Three

              Loren had returned to Garrett's ship with him, and after an official reintroduction with the Priman Representative Velk, the three of them strapped into bridge seats while Garrett left the station and headed out into deep space. 

              Avenger was actually located about thirty minutes out from the station at high speed, a precaution Garrett thought excessive.

              "I'm afraid I have to admit we're hiding from the Primans
and
the rest of Confed," Loren said with a resigned sigh.  "Like we said at our last meeting; both our leaderships need an upgrade."

              As soon as they reverted from hyperspace, they were hailed by Avenger.

              "XO here," Loren replied to the challenge from his ship.  He looked at Garrett as he kept the control button down on the console.  "Total of three aboard, all according to plan.  Where are you hiding?"

              In response, Loren, Garrett and Velk saw Avenger shimmer into view directly ahead of them.  In seconds, the ship was in full view, exterior lights burning proud and bright as if the ship itself was showboating just a little.

              "That technology still disconcerts me," Velk admitted in a low voice.

              Loren turned to Garrett and smiled.  "And no, Garrett, you can't have one."

              Garrett chuckled.  "Everything has a price, my friend."

              Garrett matched velocity with Avenger, then rolled his ship to port as he brought his ship even with Avenger's dorsal port side crew hatch, located about a third of the way down her upper hull from the bow at the edge of the armor plate just before the midships viewports.  He expertly slid his ship into position, extended the short docking collar, then verified the seals before enabling the door release.

              Garrett tapped the button that requested entry, and a second later the crew hatch hissed, clunked, and slid open to reveal the access trunk inside Avenger.  It had a sloped floor that matched the angle of the crew hatch, transitioning to the same angle as Avenger's decking after a few feet.  The gravity plates allowed for such designs, and while walking from one angle to the next was easy enough, many people took short, cautious steps.

              Exterior hatch closed, the inner hatch to the ship's interior opened to show a vacant corridor.  The only person there was Lieutenant Commander Sarria Mastruk, Loren's trusted second in command in the Combat Control Center.

              She greeted Loren with a crisp salute, Garrett and Velk with a handshake.

              "Sorry we aren't being more formal, no side party or that sort of thing," she said by way of greeting, "but the captain figured it was still best to keep news of your arrival quiet as long as possible."

              "I understand," Velk said.

              "So that's all for now?" Garrett asked.

              "Afraid so," replied Loren.  "I appreciate all your help.  We'll talk again real soon, I'm sure."

              "Always an adventure, Commander."

              Loren and Velk walked quickly down corridors that were temporarily devoid of crew, a task made easier by Mastruk's inventive scheduling and assigned drills.  With visiting officer's quarters located near Loren's XO stateroom, Velk would be just a few hatches away.

              The hatch now closed, Velk walked his quarters and gave the place a quick once-over.

              "Your officers are all assigned such quarters?"

              "Close enough," Loren admitted.  "This ship isn't meant to be a flagship, so there's no Admiral's quarters to offer you. Sorry."

              "I meant to marvel at how much space you have."  Velk looked at the small viewport which showed the stars outside.  Already they could both feel the ship accelerating, adjusting pitch and roll slightly as she was aligned for her hyperspace route.  "You can imagine my people are used to living in far smaller accommodations."

              "Well, if they join Confed they'll get an upgrade," Loren said with a straight face, curious to see if the Priman got the humor.

              "My people..." Velk paused.  "I see.  You don't actually mean it as such.  I admit to not having much of a sense of humor.  My people can be mischievous in that way; not me, however."

              Loren waited for Velk to continue, content to stare out the viewport in the meantime.

              "You truly intend to risk your life getting me back to my people?"

              "It's like we agreed earlier; I'm doing this for my people, you're doing it for yours.  If that makes us allies, then I can live with that.  I'll let somebody else work out the details afterwards; I'll be content to get both sides talking instead of shooting."

              Velk just nodded and stared off, lost in thought.  

              "There is a tradition among my people, made harder by confinement in our motherships of course, that we observe before we can be considered adults.  The person must leave his home, travel to someplace far away from family and friends.  It's a personal journey, but one must wander, go outside themselves and alienate their old lives.  They must try things opposite to their nature; honest people must try to lie, dishonest ones must learn truth.  The goal is to learn to experience the whole range of emotion and morality, to be able to see through everyone's eyes.  Only then can we be considered ready to lead, to know those we command."

              Velk turned to look at Loren.  "You may wonder what this has to do with anything.  Well, my time in Confederation space was like a second journey to me.  I saw something different, through not only a new viewpoint but also the eyes of my adversary.  I realized there can be a different way.  We want to be a part of this galaxy again, Commander Stone, but I think we can do it by coexisting.  I just need to convince my people of that."

              Loren chewed on his inner lip at the comments.  If Velk was being honest, then the revelation would quite possibly help restore peace to the galaxy.  If he was playing him, well, things would end badly for all.

              "What is our plan to return to Priman space?" asked Velk.  "I assume Avenger will not plan on just cruising up to our picket ships and asking permission to enter?"

              "We'll acquire a ship for you and I to use while Avenger follows at a safe distance," Loren replied.  "Our friend Garrett gave me the itinerary of some local disreputable types who have some vessels we could borrow.  We'll monitor them, do a mini-jump right into their midst and board a ship.  The rest we'll make up as we go."

              "Sounds risky to the health of your ship to plan a jump into an enemy formation."

              "It is," Loren admitted cheerfully.  "The computer will tell us it's a horrible idea, then we'll have to convince it otherwise.  But as you well know this ship doesn't have any generators that can disrupt a hyperdrive field; we need to surprise them so they don't scatter.  Then it's just you and me on what is sure to be one hell of a road trip."

              "Your friend Garrett Drayven would make a powerful ally," Velk noted.

              "He is," Loren reassured the Priman.  Loren seemed to pick up on a thought.  "My ally, not yours," he felt the need to clarify.

              It had been an entire day and Web had not seen the new prisoner in the cell next to him.  He'd been outside again briefly with Mithus the previous morning, gone through meals, the night, and the next afternoon.  Mithus had been sticking near him ever since their first conversation; either he was Confed and wanted to stick together, or he was a Priman plant who was determined to get what he could out of Web.  Still no telling, really.

              Web sat at a table in the outdoor courtyard that had bench seats on each side.  Maybe there had been games of chance, cards, board games or something similar on the tops once.  Now, they were just barren, scratched table tops that were showing signs of age and neglect.

              He had been making small talk with Mithus when the guards stomped through the courtyard carrying the inert form of a human woman draped between them. 

              They unceremoniously deposited her at the table behind Web, her back to his, and left in the same rush they had been in the entire time.

              Web didn't know if he was supposed to be interested.  What would the Primans want to see?  He'd give them the opposite.  He did shift in his seat as he talked to Mithus, catching a quick glimpse of the woman as she stirred and propped herself up on her elbows.

              In the name of all the stars in the universe, Web knew it was Halley.  There was something about her stance, the way she held her head up and ran her hand through her hair to straighten out the mess a bit.  He wanted to jump up and wrap her up in a the biggest embrace of his life, but he couldn't.  First, it would tip off the Primans and they'd use it against them in a heartbeat; it was safest to not admit knowing her.  Second, he still didn't trust Mithus.  Third, he needed to be absolutely sure it was Halley seated behind him; he couldn't make assumptions or take any chances.

              He knew what he had to do, and only hoped Mithus hadn't seen him twitching with excitement at the idea of Halley being there with him.

              "Hey Mithus," Web said casually to the man, still sitting across the table from him.

              "Yes?"

              "Remember when I told you about that friend of mine?  The one with the temper and destructive tendencies?"

              "I believe you mentioned a volcano."

              "Yup, that's the one.  I was just thinking about her.  I'll be honest; she was more than a friend.  We dated for a bit, but it got very weird.  She was actually a complete and total psycho, overcontrolling and possessive.  She once beat a coworker into a liquid state because she thought I had a crush on the other woman.  She was a thief, too; she'd steal anything that wasn't bolted down.  Once we started dating, she completely let herself go.  She didn't shower for weeks.

              "I once asked her if she wanted to try new things in bed, and she said she wasn't interested.  Later, I found out she'd bagged the entire incoming flight school class at the local Confed airbase; men, women and an asexual life form on an exchange program.  I still don't know how the hell that happened."

              "Alright," the battered woman from the other bench spoke up, voice cracking from a dry throat and disuse over the last two days.  "I deserved that, but you should shut it now, Web, or I'll still give you a beating."

              "That's a hollow threat because you know I'd like it."

              Web was nearly vibrating as he tried to control himself.  He couldn't show the Primans anything to indicate his concern for Halley; they were watching, no doubt, and he couldn't put her in jeopardy that way.  Still, he slowly spun around on his bench to look at her.

              She'd turned, too, and with a grimace pushed herself to her feet to face him and Mithus.  She flashed a quick, short smile at Web, then it was gone.  

              "Im really trying to not jump all over you right now," Web said as quietly as he could.

              "You better not," Halley replied.  "Besides," she said as she ran her tongue across a couple teeth, probing their integrity, "I have a bruised jaw; one of your slobbery kisses would hurt too much."  She extended her hand towards him.  "How about a firm handshake?"

              Web replied with a hand gesture that was recognized as rude and demeaning on at least twenty planets he knew of.  "How about this instead?"

              "A handshake will have to do, sailor," she replied, and Web could tell she was holding back a smile as well.  They shook; her touch made Web dizzy.

              "Mithus, nice to see you alive," she said calmly.

              "You too, Halley."

              She looked at them, surveying the yard and any Primans she could lay eyes on.  "Ok, I'm using up the last of my nanites' batteries.  Talk soft and don't move your lips much; I'm generating a weak damping field.  How long was I out?"

              "You came in two nights ago late," Web stated.  "We didn't see you yesterday, and here we are now."

              "Damn," she said quietly as she ran some calculations.  "Alright, here's the plan.  We need to figure out how we're escaping with all these Senators, because the jailbreak happens four days from now."              

              The small pirate flotilla sat in formation, drifting aimlessly while its captain oversaw the transfer of plunder among the ships.  Having recently raided a small Enkarran settlement, the pirates were chock full of goods, from food to equipment to weapons.  The captain, experienced pirate that he was, knew enough to keep as much of the loot as possible aboard his flagship and spread out amongst the rest of the ships what was left.  It reduced the chances of any enterprising captains or crews from deciding they could get rich quick by taking off with his bounty.