Citizen X - BP01 Page 8

  "Captain, we're here to assist. What's your condition?"

  "Thank you, Captain. We were attacked by one of our own warships. We were hailed and ordered to stop, so we complied."

  "One of your own warships? In GA space?"

  "Yes, a Bernouust class destroyer. It was apparently one of two stolen by rebel forces from a shipyard while undergoing refits. They used the name of a third ship, one operating in our space just over the border, to disguise their identity. I believed the story that they had come to give us an escort since rebels now controlled two warships, but when they sent the recognition signals we knew they weren't who they claimed to be. The codes were changed a few days ago, following the thefts. Unfortunately we had already canceled our envelope. We then applied full power to our Sub-Light engines and tried to build a new envelope, but their ship was faster, of course, and they knocked out our temporal field generator. We returned fire and were able to damage them with torpedoes. They trailed us for a while and then left. I guess we damaged them enough that they wanted no further part of us."

  "I see. Your vessel is armed then?"

  "It's necessary these days, even for a diplomatic yacht. I don't see the situation improving any time soon."

  "Yes, it would appear that way. Do you need engineering assistance from us, sir?"

  "Our most pressing need is a ship to protect us so we can stop and make repairs. We won't know what other assistance we might need until my people can evaluate the condition of the temporal field generator."

  "Very well, sir. I offer you the protection of the Galactic Alliance Space Command Light-Destroyer Perry. We have you on our DeTect screen and see no other ships in the vicinity. You may stop where you are and commence repairs. We'll be there in a few minutes."

  "Thank you, Captain. I'll halt my ship but await your arrival before I send out our engineers."

  "Understood, Captain. Perry out."

  "Darrapralis out."

  It appeared that the excitement was over. Since there were six hours before Sydnee's watch began, she could either get more sleep or find something else to do. She decided to catch up on her correspondence, so she returned to her quarters.

  Sydnee again viewed several messages before recording her replies. The first was the most recent vid message from her best friend, Katarina.

  "Hey, Syd," the image of Kat said from the monitor as the message played. "How's everything? I received your last message and I almost envy you. You may only be inspecting freighters and passenger liners, but at least you're doing something productive, and you get to fly occasionally. All I do is train. I train all afternoon, and then again all evening until it's time to go on watch. When a ship is in port, the third watch is supposed to be an easy time, and most watch commanders allow informal talk as long as it's kept low key. But as soon as I report for my watch, the watch commander begins assigning me navigation problems to solve, then grades my results. I feel like I'm back at the Academy.

  I've decided that we are functioning as the protection fleet for Region Two Headquarters because the Pholus hasn't left port since I arrived at Quesann. Admiral Carver hasn't been seen in months, and the scuttlebutt is that she's off fighting an enemy of significantly greater size. But other than the repair to the Colorado, which I've learned she was commanding when it was hit, we've seen no proof of any action. Still, we wouldn't be training this hard if something wasn't going on somewhere. And eventually that something may wind up here at our doorstep.

  "Anyway, at least we get some down time once a week, and we're permitted to go dirt-side for a few hours. Quesann is beautiful, Syd. It's kinda like a duplicate Earth, but instead of major continents with vast expanses of water, the land mass is distributed as islands, some as large as New Zealand, that dot the whole surface of the planet. Since it wasn't inhabited when Admiral Carver selected it for Region Two Headquarters, it's still almost all wilderness.

  "I heard that the reason the Milori hadn't colonized it was because it was too cold for them. They like high temperatures. And since they had subjugated every species in their Empire capable of space travel, there was no one else to colonize it.

  "I wish that I could get a couple of weeks off and go exploring, but most of it is still off-limits because they don't know what harmful plant, insect, amphibian, reptile, marine, and animal life might exist in the uncharted areas. If Admiral Carver opens the planet to occupation by civilians, it's sure to fill quickly. Perhaps one day it will become the hub for the GA instead of Earth because it's much more centrally located between Regions One and Two than Earth.

  "Have to go. Message me soon.

  Katarina Somulowski, Lieutenant(jg), aboard the SC Battleship Pholus in Region Two, message complete."

  Sydnee took a deep breath, released it, and began her reply.

  "Message to Katarina Somulowski, Lieutenant(jg) aboard the GSC Battleship Pholus in Region Two.

  "Hey Kat, got your message yesterday but I was tied up all day checking passports and visas on a Yolongi passenger ship. It was interesting seeing some of the alien species we'd only heard about at the Academy, but after the first few hours it was just a chore that had to be completed. Presently, we're preparing to assist a Clidepp diplomatic yacht that was attacked by rebels inside our border. It doesn't look like I'll be involved since we're only going to stand by as protection while they repair their temporal field generator. The rebels were gone long before we got here, so unless they show up again it's going to be just another boring watch. At least I don't have to constantly prepare courses to places we're not going. We have to stay alert when we're not in port, but it's a relaxed atmosphere on third watch unless we detect a ship coming from, or headed to, the border.

  "Quesann sounds beautiful. I hope I get a chance to see it someday, but as I told you last week, there's almost no chance of getting a transfer off the Perry. Nobody wants to take a member of this crew unless they're really desperate, and Space Command HQ hasn't initiated a transfer off since the war with the Milori began and they had to send every ship they could spare to the Frontier Zone. Are they still calling it that out there now that Region Two territory has been officially annexed to the GA? I feel so out of touch here. We pick up all the news and entertainment broadcasts, but I have this strange feeling of being so detached from everything and everyone I've ever known. I thought I was prepared for a life in space, but perhaps I had romanticized it too much. Every day seems too much like the previous day.

  "But hey, don't mind me. Perhaps I'm just tired and still a bit depressed over being posted to the Perry without knowing what I did to deserve it. Time to go. I love you Kat. You be careful out there. From what you're saying, it looks like big trouble might be brewing again in Region Two.

  "Sydnee Marcola, Lieutenant(jg) aboard the GSC Destroyer Perry. Message complete."

  When the Perry arrived at a position twenty-five thousand kilometers from the damaged diplomatic yacht, it found her apparently dead in space but still drifting slightly forward. As Captain Lidden reopened a dialogue with the Captain of the yacht, the yacht's nacelle-housed maneuvering engines rotated around to perform a complete braking action. Within minutes of coming to a virtual dead stop, engineers in EVA suits emerged from the airlocks on the yacht and moved towards the temporal envelope generator on top of the ship. Like a warship, the generator was housed in an armored repository. When needed, the cover slid back and the generator extended upwards until completely exposed and able to create an envelope that spread out in all directions like an expanding soap bubble. Unlike a bubble, however, the envelope wasn't spherical. It was more like a tight-fitting pouch a few millimeters thick that coated the entire hull with a network of expanding temporal anomalies.

  Sydnee had just completed a message to her mom when she received a call to her CT.

  "Marcola," she said.

  "Lieutenant, this is Commander Bryant. Suit up. You're taking a shuttle to the disabled ship."

  "But I thought it was a diplomatic yacht, sir."
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  "That's what they said. We're going to verify their documents. Hustle it, Lieutenant."

  "Yes, sir."

  Sydnee stripped off her uniform, then slipped into her body suit before donning her armor. She debated whether to bring her weapons and then decided it was better to be safe than sorry.

  "You're loaded for bear again," Lt. Weems said with a smile when she reached the flight deck. "This is a diplomatic yacht, you know."

  "It's my first. I didn't know if I was supposed to bring weapons or not. I was thinking of the Santiago interdiction tragedy. They were only supposed to be checking a harmless freighter."

  Weems nodded sadly. "Well, it can't hurt I suppose. Just don't fire your weapon unless someone is trying to kill you. The GAC takes a very dim view of us shooting holes in diplomats. It would ensure you never get off the Perry."

  "Not to mention prison time."

  "Nah, they wouldn't send you to prison unless the dip dies. Being sentenced to spending the rest of your career on this bucket is far worse punishment."

  "Jerry, you've never told me what you did to get posted to the Perry."

  "No," Weems said, as he returned his attention to the viewpad he'd been studying when she arrived. "I didn't, did I?"

  "Well?"

  "A deep subject."

  "Why you're here?"

  "No, wells."

  Sydnee frowned. "You're not going to tell me?"

  "Get your ship preflighted, Syd."

  "What did you do, Jerry? Did someone die? Did you shoot a dip?"

  Weems looked up at Sydnee, grimaced, then turned and walked towards his own shuttle.

  Sydnee stared after him for a few seconds, frowned again, then began her preflight check.

  Chapter Seven

  ~ Jan. 30th, 2285 ~

  "I've just received word that the attack on the diplomatic yacht failed," the hooded figure at the head of the table said.

  "What happened?" another asked. "Was it Space Command? The plan seemed perfect."

  "Our people managed to gain access to the two warships and seize them without violence, then make a successful escape from the shipyard. They located the ship carrying the diplomats while it was still in Galactic Alliance space, and it halted when they ordered it to. But somehow the yacht discovered that the destroyer wasn't commanded by Clidepp military personnel and tried to escape. Our people managed to destroy its temporal field generator, preventing it going FTL, but the yacht fired torpedoes and damaged our ship. The destroyer was forced to break off the attack when their life support systems were incapacitated.

  "Where is it now?"

  "They're attempting to reach an uninhabited planet in a small, out of the way, solar system before the air is too foul to breathe. They'll vacate the ship and wait for someone to pick them up."

  "What about the ship? We can't just abandon a valuable resource like that."

  "The oxygen regeneration equipment was destroyed, and the supply that remained in un-ruptured tanks was inadequate for the large crew we had placed aboard. When the pickup ship arrives, they'll repair whatever storage tanks aboard the damaged ship they can and refill them. Most areas of the ship will be sealed off from life support, and a small crew will attempt to pilot it back to Clidepp space. A crew of twenty should have sufficient reserves. If that proves impossible, tugs will tow it back. Once the ship is here, we can have it repaired at a planet in the outer reaches where they don't ask questions if your credits are good."

  "This is a bitter pill to swallow. We invested a lot of money and effort in this plan. We were expecting the operation to be successful."

  "It was successful," X said. "It was even more successful than we could have hoped."

  "What do you mean? You said that all they did was damage the temporal field generator."

  "Our people stole two warships from under the noses of the military and then harassed a diplomatic yacht. No one was killed in either operation, but people will understand what the outcome could have been. Everyone will assume that the warship could have annihilated the diplomatic yacht but chose not to. They won't give credence to Empire claims that a yacht successfully fought off a destroyer. And since no one was killed, the bleeding hearts can't scream that we committed murder. Overall, the operation was a huge success."

  "Yes, I see," the second man said. "That's brilliant. Absolutely brilliant."

  "Of course we still have the problem of a disabled ship in Galactic Alliance space," a third member of the group said. "What if the crew is captured before they can learn of this cover story and tell everyone what the real objective was?"

  "That could be a problem," X said, "but there's little chance that Space Command will find them before we pick them up. There are only a few SC ships on patrol along our entire border with the Alliance."

  The door suddenly burst in and an agitated man rushed in. "X, the military has entered the city. They've begun searching houses and beating or arresting people who resist. Several citizens have already been killed. You must leave this place immediately. You must all leave."

  Citizen X rose quickly from his seat at the head of the table and said, "Yes, my friends, it is time to go. We must not be found here. We'll meet again in seven solars at the house in Reumella just after sunset. You all know your planned escape route from this location. Move quickly now."

  * * *

  Sydnee was on the flight deck going through the preflight procedures when Lt. Kennedy entered and flopped into the co-pilot's seat. "Take it easy today, Lieutenant," he said. "Make it smooth and gentle."

  "Not feeling too good?" Sydnee asked.

  "I'm fine. It's the Captain I'm thinking of."

  "What about the Captain?"

  "He's in the rear cabin."

  "The Captain is going over to the dip ship?"

  "Yeah, some protocol regulation or other I guess. Or maybe he just wants to make sure everything goes smoothly."

  "Oh, at first I thought maybe our last landing was a little rough on you."

  "You did scare the crap out of me. I'm lucky I didn't have to clean my underwear after that. Ya know, I've known since the first flight that you were a good pilot, but after that last trip I have to say you're probably the best I've flown with since I arrived aboard the Perry."

  "I guess that's a compliment," Sydnee said with a grin.

  "Yeah, it was supposed to be."

  "Thanks."

  "Just don't make a habit of coming in like you did last time."

  "Don't worry. We were under orders to ignore the usual flight regs and get aboard as quickly as possible. So I did. If it makes you feel any better, I was always at the top of my flight instruction classes at WCI and I had the ship under control at all times."

  "I think I knew that. It just kinda caught me off guard."

  "Everybody strapped in?"

  "Yeah, we're good to go."

  Sydnee nodded, checked to make sure the ship was acknowledging that the two hatches were closed and sealed, then started the oh-gee engine.

  "The shuttle is ready to depart, Commander," Sydnee said to the watch officer on the bridge.

  "You're cleared to depart, Lieutenant. The Captain has cancelled the other ship, so you're the only shuttle going over. Bay Two on the starboard side of the Darrapralis will be open for your docking."

  "Understood, sir. Starboard Bay Two."

  Sydnee released the magnetic skids and the small ship lifted up gently before she turned it one hundred eighty degrees and moved it towards the flight bay's exterior hatch. As the ship settled to the deck, Sydnee re-engaged the magnetic skids. The Docking Controller, watching from the flight operations room, lowered the temporary airlock bulkheads around the shuttle, evacuated the air, and opened the outer hatch. Sydnee slowly moved the shuttle out of the Perry and headed towards the diplomatic yacht, floating some twenty-five thousand kilometers away. Although the Darrapralis was a diplomatic yacht, it was still not a Space Command vessel. Space Command regulations required that this minimu
m distance always be maintained from all non-SC ships in space because it made laser weapons largely ineffective. Once the Sub-Light engines were engaged, the shuttle would close the distance in a minute.

  "Smooth enough, Lieutenant?" Sydnee said to Kennedy with a grin.

  "Perfect, Lieutenant."

  The hatch for Bay Two in the diplomatic yacht was wide open. Sydnee piloted the shuttle in and let it settle gently to the deck. It was so gentle that she wouldn't be sure it was completely down if the sensors hadn't shown that the magnetic skids could be engaged. She tapped the button and a red light indicated that the locks had engaged.

  The bay was small compared to the bay on the Perry, but it could still accommodate two shuttles of the size Sydnee had flown over. One shuttle parking location was occupied by a Clidepp ship. Sydnee waited until the outer hatch had closed and the temporary airlock bulkheads raised up before releasing the skids, then moved the small ship to the other location. A Yolongi officer motioned her forward as she maneuvered the vessel. When he crossed his arms with his fists clenched, she lowered the ship to the deck and engaged the skid locks again.

  Kennedy jumped to his feet and left the flight deck as Sydnee powered down the craft. Seconds later she heard the sounds of pounding feet as the Marines left the ship, then all was quiet. It was peaceful on the shuttle's flight deck as she relaxed and wondered if she'd be called to do something or if she would just have to sit in the ship until it was time to return to the Perry.

  "Marcola," she suddenly heard in her CT.

  "Marcola here," she replied after touching her ring.

  "What are you waiting for, Lieutenant? An engraved invitation?"

  "Sir?" she said questioningly as she recognized the Captain's voice."

  "Get your six out here."

  "Coming, sir. Marcola out."

  Sydnee leapt to her feet, pulling on her gloves as she fumbled to open the locker behind the pilot's chair. She removed the belt containing the two knives and her laser pistol and strapped it around her waist. As she pulled her rifle from the locker, she remembered Weems' words about shooting a dip and pushed it back into the locker. She then took her pistol out of the holster and looked at it as she considered whether she should leave it in the locker. She decided that she couldn't wear a pistol belt without a pistol.