Authors: Thomas DePrima
"Aye, Major. Heading for the
Justice
."
* * *
"I call this emergency session to order," Admiral Moore said in the Admiralty Board meeting hall. The other admirals were all in attendance, including the newest member of the board, Admiral Lesbolh Yuthkotl of Nordakia, but only aides and senior clerks had been allowed to join them in the large chamber on this occasion. The gallery area was empty.
"I've just received a message from Captain Lidden of the
Denver
. He reports that the mission to Yolongus was partially successful. The Marines captured the package and got away clean, as far as they know, but the ship's FTL drive was damaged due to a design flaw in the repository hatch cover. The envelope generator is scrap, and where the replacement generator
should
be located in an engineering locker, there's a crate containing an office desk. So the ship is stuck on Yolongus. They have oh-gee and sub-light power only."
"Good Lord!" Admiral Bradlee said. "This could turn out to be a disaster if the Clidepp government captures our people and that ship."
"Yes," Admiral Moore said. "The question is whether or not we send a Space Command ship in to rescue them or try to work thorough our SCI network."
"Normally, I would resist all effort to involve our undercover people in this. It takes too long to recruit and train them just to throw them away on anything but the most important of assignments. But if it's the only way, we'll have to do it. However, my resources on Yolongus are extremely limited. I might not even be able to send someone to help them."
"We could send in another CPS-14," Admiral Plimley suggested, "rather than the
Denver
."
"How far can the ship get with its sub-light engines?" Admiral Woo asked.
"Sub-light engines in other than warships are really only intended to assist in planetary orbit maneuvers," Admiral Platt said, "but I imagine they can achieve a speed of Sub-Light-50. It's not the fault of the engines; it's the amount of hydrogen the ship can carry. Once they exhaust their fuel, they go ballistic, like a torpedo. And like a torpedo they lose all guidance ability once they exhaust their fuel, so it's imperative they don't exhaust all their fuel or they lose the ability to stop or change direction. They can collect more fuel as they travel outside of FTL, but the collectors aren't very large. It will take quite a while to top off their tanks again. No, the sub-light engines aren't the answer. They need a new generator."
"Where is the ship now, Richard?" Admiral Hillaire asked.
"Captain Lidden didn't include a specific location in his message but says they're on the planet. I assume they're well hidden in some isolated area— perhaps near one of the polar caps."
"That black ship against a white background would be too obvious," Bradlee said.
"You're right, Roger. They must be somewhere where their black coloration would better blend with the surroundings. I doubt they'd go back into the water."
"It doesn't really matter where they are," Admiral Bradlee said. "I'm sure the Captain has done everything in his or her power to conceal the presence of the ship. Uh, who is in command, by the way?"
Admiral Moore turned to his aide, who whispered something to the Admiral. When he turned back, he hesitated for a second, then said, "The captain is Lieutenant(jg) Sydnee Marie Marcola."
"That name sounds familiar," Admiral Ressler said. "Did you say Lieutenant(
jg
)?"
"Yes."
"That was rather an important mission. I'm surprised Lidden trusted it to a JG."
"The name is familiar from the recent BOI report," Admiral Ahmed said. "She's the young officer who performed so bravely on Diabolisto, commandeered the stolen Clidepp destroyer, and saved the
Perry
's crew."
"Ah, yes, I remember now," Admiral Ressler said. "And now I understand Lidden's confidence in her. It appears she's someone worth watching."
"Any suggestions on what action we take? Do we send in the
Denver
, another CPS, or see if Roger can handle it through his undercover network?"
"Are they our only choices?" Admiral Ahmed asked.
"No, Raihana. We'll consider anything else you'd care to suggest."
"I'd like a day to think about it and do a little research."
"Time could be critical."
"It's just one day, Richard."
"Let's put it to a vote. All in favor of giving Raihana her requested one-day delay, signify by raising your hand." Glancing around the table, Admiral Moore said, "You have your day, Raihana. We'll meet again tomorrow to make a decision on this most important issue."
~ March 6
th
, 2286 ~
The second scrapyard Blade felt might yield a GA generator was located on a strip of land bordering a swamp. The yard had outgrown its solid-ground property and was now filling in the swamp with scrap deemed useless even for recycling. Each year, the piles on dry land had grown higher and more difficult to locate anything of practical value.
When the SO team approached the yard, they scanned the area for guard animals but failed to spot any.
"Whaddya think, sir?" one of the team asked. "Do we accept that there are no guard animals here?"
"It's possible. This yard doesn't look very prosperous. Guard animals cost money to buy and feed. Let's go in and begin our search, but keep a wary eye out for any sign of movement."
Blade headed for the scrapyard office while the team began a physical search for a useful generator. The computer records were as sloppy and disorganized as the piles in the yard, and Blade was unable to find any useful information about GA freighter parts. He finally gave up and walked out of the office to assist in the physical search. By then, his Marines had covered about a third of the yard.
Despite the mess and their eagerness to be done, the team didn't give the search effort less than their best. They knew that to get off the planet and on their way back to GA space they needed to find a generator. If there was a GA generator there, they were going to find it.
"Sir, I think I see something," Blade heard over Com-Three. He hurried to where the noncom who made the report was standing.
"Where is it, Boyd?"
"Up there, sir," Boyd said, pointing to the top of a pile of scrap.
As Blade looked up, the imaging routine in his helmet confirmed that the object had the general appearance of a generator from a GA freighter.
"The question is," Blade said, "how do we get up there to confirm its origin? We don't have any oh-gee carts."
"I have a line in my backpack. I think I can scale this pile."
"It looks pretty unstable. Be careful."
"Yes, sir."
Boyd removed his backpack and pulled out the rope. He prepared the line and then let the three-pronged grapple hook fly. It caught on a piece of scrap right next to the generator. Yanking on the line to make sure it was secure, he then started walking up the pile. As he reached the generator, he paused and made sure of his footing before examining his discovery.
After several minutes, Blade heard, "No go, sir. It's just the outer cover. There's nothing inside."
"Okay, Staff Sergeant. Come on down."
Blade waited while Boyd descended slowly to the ground.
"Sorry, sir." Boyd said.
"No problem, son. It was worth a look. Okay, let's keep going."
The team spent two more hours at the yard and checked every pile, but nothing else was spotted that resembled the two-meter-long piece of equipment they were seeking. It was a depressing ride back to the volcano. Everyone wanted off the planet, and all they needed was one small generator— a generator that could be picked up almost anywhere in GA space.
* * *
"I received a response from the Admiralty Board overnight," Lidden said to Bryant during their regular morning session.
"Did they give us a green light to send in a rescue ship?"
"Just the opposite. They reaffirmed that under no circumstances am I to enter, send anyone, or allow any GA personnel to enter Clidepp space without specific orders from SHQ."
"What? They're deserting our people?"
"I imagine they probably have some other plan regarding a rescue."
"They could have at least given us the go-ahead to move a ship to within a light-year of Yolongus. It could remain there, hidden in the black, and be ready to move in if their other idea fails."
"I agree, but the AB calls all the shots, and for now we just keep performing normal interdiction activities."
"Amazing."
"Don't write our people off yet. The AB members are all experienced Space Command officers. They're not going to simply forget about our folks."
* * *
"I have news, Captain," Blade said to Sydnee after entering her office and waiting until the door was closed. "I've received a message from the intelligence contact. He's agreed to meet me."
"Wonderful. He seems to be our last hope at this point. I still haven't heard anything back from the
Denver
. When's the meet?"
"Tomorrow night. In a Lelligassa park."
"Lelligassa?"
"It's a fairly large city about two hour's travel time from here. The park is in a bad section of town— so bad even the police fear to travel there after dark."
"Sounds ideal," Sydnee said with a grin.
"If I have your permission to go, we'll begin planning the operation today and be ready to leave by 1800 tomorrow. The sun will have set by the time we leave here."
"Of course you have my permission, Major. Lt. Weems will be ready to leave at that time."
"Great. I thought you'd approve. My people are already assembling for the planning session."
"Okay, here's the park where the meet is scheduled to take place tomorrow," Blade said, using a laser pointer to indicate a spot on the large monitor in the habitat's mess hall. A high resolution mapping image of Lelligassa was being projected on the monitor. First Sergeant Doyle Larson was handling the computer interface. By careful manipulation he could show that part of the city in almost any manner desired, from a two-dimensional overhead view to a full 3-D image of the smashed fountain in the center of the decaying park as it would be seen from ground level.
"Over on the left you'll see clusters of burned out or abandoned buildings in an old factory complex. That's where the MAT will set down. Once down, it'll be surrounded on all sides by tall structures and not visible to street traffic. We'll use alleyways to get out of the factory complex and use the city streets to reach the park. We'll wear the same style of full-body cloaks worn by locals over our armor to disguise our identities.
"We'll arrive at the park a full hour before the scheduled meet time and take up concealed positions." To Larson, he said, "Take us down to street level by the park." The image instantly dropped to show a 3-D image of the park entrance.
"There are three entrances to the park, and I have no idea which one our contact will use. So we'll set up six observation posts designated Tango-One through Tango-Six in the abandoned buildings surrounding the park. We naturally want to know if the contact is arriving alone or with companions. The RP is at this bench by what's left of a fountain. The team members in the park, designated Alpha-One through Alpha-Four, will remain concealed at all times. I'll likewise remain concealed until I hear that the contact has come alone. If he arrives alone, I'll go out to meet him. If he's not alone, I'll formulate a revised plan when we know how many others are with him.
"I want to make it clear that although this person may represent our best chance of getting a generator, we still don't know if we can trust him. SCI used him to locate the package for us, but that was their first contact with him.
"This is a dangerous area, but
we're
going to be the most dangerous force there. I expect we'll have one or more confrontations with the local denizens. When we do, put them down fast and permanent. We're not going to waste time with inner-city scum. This is especially important for Tango-One through Tango-Six. We have no way of knowing who or what you'll contact when you enter the building selected for your observation point. If anyone tries to interfere with your mission, make sure they never interfere with anyone again. The police are afraid to travel in this part of the city after dark and with good reason. Bodies won't be discovered until the following day, if they're discovered at all. I'm sure there are a lot of small, hungry carnivores hiding in those buildings that will make quick work of a free meal.
"First Sergeant Larson will remain with the MAT to help protect it. I have no doubt that some of the locals would love to capture such a prize. We'll have to show them how unwise that idea would be.
"We shove off at 1800 hours tomorrow. The First Sergeant has your individual assignments."
* * *
"Tango-Two, this is Sierra-Leader. Do you have eyes on our contact?"
"Negative, Sierra-Leader. No one has entered the vicinity of the RP since we took up position."
"How about you, Tango-Six? Anything?"
"Negative, Sierra-Leader. Nothing moving on the streets outside the park."
"Continue surveillance."
Blade leaned back against the tree so that he was completely hidden in the shadows. The contact should have been there ten minutes earlier.
An hour later, and still without any sign of the contact, Blade was about ready to pull in his guys and head to where the MAT was waiting.
"Sierra-Leader, this is Tango-Three. I see movement at two o'clock from my position."
"Tango-Two, can you confirm?"
"I haven't seen anything from my position— wait, I see something now. Someone is in the shadows by the corner of the building."
"Tango-Five confirms. I see it also. There's just one figure so far."
"Tell me if the shadow moves to the RP location."
It was another ten minutes before anyone saw movement again.
"Tango-Five to Sierra-Leader. The contact is moving towards the RP location."
"Tango-Three confirms."
Two minutes later, Alpha-One said, "The contact has reached the RP and is standing in the shadows next to the tree."