Outsystem (Aeon 14) (28 page)

“You getting all sentimental, Staff?”

Williams cast a baleful eye on Kowalski. “I have as much sentimentality in me as you have taste in woman.”

Kowalski chuckled. “Sure thing, Staff.”

Williams glanced back up at the sight; it was a lot smaller than Mars 1, but he found it far more pleasant. He could spot the Tannen Docking Array R3D where the
Argonaut
was berthed along the arc, visible even though it was seven hundred kilometers away. He started moving again and ran through the platoon’s status to be certain that everyone was still keeping up, more or less. Since the officers had been in first class, they were ahead a few hundred meters, but they were making poorer time without a sergeant’s glare to help part the crowds.

Williams eased up his pace. He liked his officers, but he also liked peace and quiet, something that a
certain lieutenant trying to look cool to Trist while simultaneously trying to impress the major just wouldn’t provide.

They passed out of the TSF zone and into a general civilian section. There were three military zones on the docks, but due to a combination of lease times and weight distribution, they weren’t all adjacent to one another.

The central boulevard changed as they walked. Gone were the plain bulkheads with their colored bars indicating location and purpose, as well as the spartan offices and facilities. In their place were the boutiques and restaurants that catered to the transient tourists that passed through the station.

While the population of both Ceres and its docking network was in the range of only three hundred million or so, at any
given over a billion people were passing through. The place had rivers of credit flowing across its nets, generating more money than most planets.

Besides the aforementioned stores selling frivolities and food, frontages advertising time in the company of a beautiful man, woman, or…whatever abounded—everything from vanilla humans to things that didn’t even look like homo sapiens. A trend that seemed to be more and more common as the years passed.

It was probably to please many of the visitors. A lot of the spacers that passed through a place like Ceres spent a good bit of their time alone in the black. It seemed that they were the most unusual, almost as though they had decided that since they spent so much time away from the general human population they should become something other than human.

Even though he had slowed his pace, Williams saw that he was still catching up with the officers and Trist. He resigned himself to taking the rest of the route to the maglev in their company and allowed himself to catch up.

“About time you boots caught up. We were starting to wonder if you stayed back to finish an in-flight vid or something,” Trist said.

“We did,” Williams
growled. “It was called
NCOs and the Moronic Civilians They Saved Through the Ages
. It warmed my heart.”

Trist shot Williams a shocked look while Tanis let out a laugh.

“You do realize that no one but a Marine can needle a Marine staff sergeant and escape unscathed,” Tanis said.

“Even most of them lose at least a finger or two,” Williams grunted.

Trist opened her mouth to say something in response, but appeared to think better of the notion and subsided into silence. Just the way Williams preferred it.

He had mixed feelings about her coming along to Callisto, especially mixed feelings about her being privy to the details of the mission, but Major Richards seemed to trust the girl and had made a strong case that she had a knowledge of Cho that none of them did. Her web of contacts could end up proving to be very useful.

Still, it was a gamble taking her back. The Jovian government still had a warrant out for her arrest, despite the fact that a federal SolGov court had granted her immunity in exchange for her testimony against Trent.

Luckily the fact that a lot of Trist’s body was made out of biological
silicon meant her DNA no longer matched what was on record. Even better was the fact that she could subtly alter her underlying physical features making a legal identification of Trist was virtually impossible.

The group arrived at the maglev train and the platoon filed into several cars. The ride antispin to the
Argonaut
was relatively quick and before long the gear was stowed and the Marines were enjoying some downtime before the briefing. Their shuttle to Callisto left at 0900 the next morning, and it was currently 1400, giving them several hours to sample all the docks had to offer. Williams was certain that they would.

As for himself, Williams took the time to look over the plan passed down to him from the officers. He could tell that it was Tanis’s scheme with a few minor details taken care of by the LT. Tanis tended to skip the chain a bit, though it was hard to say if it annoyed Grenwald or not. Getting firsthand experience with a renowned tactician like Major Richards was probably worth the consternation.

The general operation was pretty straightforward. There would be a company of MCSF Marines tasked with general security and a company of Marine engineers that was tasked with inspecting the cargo pods. Not a job Williams envied. Those pods were each well over a cubic kilometer filled with equipment and cargo. The engineers would only be able to do a cursory examination at best, but it was better than nothing.

The
Intrepid
would carry ten pods total, and seven were already in place. When the
Intrepid
arrived at Callisto in a month, the remaining pods would be loaded up and the ship would begin its acceleration toward the Sun, on its slingshot approach to gather additional velocity for their outbound trip.

Williams was somewhat saddened by the thought. Over the last few months the ship had become something of a home to him and the platoon. He’d overheard a few of the
Marines talking about requesting to go out with the ship, but he was certain that none of them would; they were all too dedicated to the job, all of them being somewhat addicted to the action. Where the
Intrepid
was going there would be no action, just a quiet, boring colonization project and then the slow crawl to old age.

For just a moment the notion appealed to Williams, but he pushed it from his mind. The corps was his life, that wasn’t going to change.

“Good of you all to make it.” Grenwald addressed the last few
Marines who arrived only four minutes early for the briefing.

“We were held up,” Taylor said.

“Yeah, Taylor was having trouble convincing the bartender he was old enough to drink,” Perez grinned.

“Belay that excuse,” Williams said.

“Sorry Staff.” Perez had the good grace to look a bit sheepish.

All eyes turned to Major Richards as she stood and activated the holo system.

“This is dock BX9-R on ring 19C of the Callisto station. For those of you who have never been there, it’ll be quite the sight. You’re on the corps’ time the whole time we’re there. No wandering off and seeing what there is to see.” She cast a look at Perez. “Or fondle what there is to fondle. There is a barracks on the ring, and I don’t want to hear of anyone being anywhere other than there or else on duty…what?” Tanis looked at Perez.

“Will there at least be, er…beverages?”

“Yes, there’s an enlisted cantina in the barracks where I believe they serve over ten thousand types of alcohol. Don’t abuse it.” Her look told them all what danger they’d be in if they imbibed excessively more than any threat could have.

“Once we debark at Callisto, our job will be to ensure that the STR is hamstrung. It’s entirely possible that SolGov will take no direct action against the instigator of this bit of excitement we’ve been having lately, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t make their lives miserable—and believe me ladies and gentlemen, we will.”

She surveyed the room and found that everyone’s eyes showed that they shared the same sentiment as she did.

“We have a certain level of autonomy here, but honestly if I don’t piss off Admiral Sanderson by the time we’re done, then I
won’t feel like I’ve done my job. What that translates to for you is that we may actually get to have some fun.”

The
Marines all looked at one another and smiled; they were well-versed in what Tanis’s version of fun was.

“I’ve put each squad’s objectives on the tactical net. I expect you all to review them and be prepared when we arrive. We do have a two-day flight, and I want to see tactical sims drawn up and run during that time.”

She nodded, and Grenwald addressed Williams. “Staff, dismiss the men.”

“Platoon, get some sacktime, I want you assembled on the deck in front of the
Argonaut
at 0530. Dismissed!”

The men saluted the officers and filed out.

STELLAR DATE: 3227
307 / 12.20.4123 (Adjusted Gregorian)

LOCATION:
District BX9, Ring 19C, Callisto Orbital Habitat (Cho)

REGION:
Jovian Combine, Sol Space Federation

“How are things looking, Commander?” Tanis addressed the Marine who was bent over a readout.

“As well as can be expected, sir. We’ve got the 701 engineers combing every inch of those cubes as well as the other general cargo destined for the
Intrepid
upon its arrival and let me say, it’s going to be a slow burn.”

“I understand, Yau.” Tanis couldn’t agree more. “Be on the lookout for…something—I don’t know that this is over yet.”

“You’re expecting the enemy to make a move against us?”

“I don’t know for sure. I’ve been studying this Arlen Strang. He’s never been one to give up on something when he sets his mind to it. I imagine that he has made certain promises and with the
Dakota
taking second place to the
Intrepid
I’m thinking he has some egg on his face.”

“I’ll see that we are suitably cautious, sir.”

“Good to hear, Commander.”

Tanis turned and signaled one/three to follow her. She had a meeting with a certain informant and it involved going down to ring 5 and into an area not known to be friendly to strangers. She was probably being overly cautious, but having a couple of
Marines along never hurt when trying to keep one’s head attached to one’s body.

She and the
Marines were all in civilian attire, though she didn’t expect it to fool anyone who had an eye for military bearing. The light body armor they wore under their clothing didn’t help make their movements any more natural.

The ride down the tubes was relatively quick. Since they were going to inner rings the feeling was actually more of an up since the centripetal force was pulling them the opposite direction. She did miss the type of construction that Mars 1 and Ceres had, where you could see the planet above. Word was that the reason why they hadn’t done that here was because having Jupiter looming in the background was disconcerting to too many people, especially
since it had been ignited several hundred years ago and now looked much more ominous than it once had.

Even if the moon were visible the view would have been uninspiring. Callisto wasn’t terraformed, its surface
housing waste management and purification systems for the habitat above.

Tanis’s thoughts shifted to the Callisto station…or rings…no one really knew what to call it these days. Locals called it Cho, while the Jovian government called it the C1 Semi-Orbital Habitat. Tanis just called it daunting.

Something about the feeling of a trillion trillion tons of structure over her head gave her the willies. Not big ones, but enough to make her twinge every so often.

She focused on the task at hand. Meet with this contact, get the intel, stop the STR from pulling off whatever they planned on doing
. She kept the knowledge that in one month they’d be outsystem firmly in mind. They’d have a nice cookout in Old Sam and be on their way. It would all have been worth it.

The thoughts renewed her resolve. No way was she going to let anything get in the
Intrepid
’s way.

The contact’s name was Sandy Bristol; Tanis’s information told her that she would be a mod—a pretty heavy mod from the looks of the file. She figured it couldn’t be hard to spot a woman with florescent pink skin and what appeared to be several dozen three-foot tentacles coming out of her head. That sort of thing just stood out.

She glanced around her at the people in this part of the ring. Well, maybe it wouldn’t stand out that much. In fact, even though they were all dressed in
civvies, her Marine escort’s lack of visible mods and conservative clothing probably made them the most unusual people present.

She directed Becker and Jacobs to engage in a lively discussion about their favorite sport, poker, at a table in a café across the intersection where the meet was to take place. Martins
stood beside her, posing as obvious muscle, which she did very easily, and Larson was lurking around the corner, eyeing the ladies standing in front of a brothel, or voluntary slavery outlet, it was hard to tell.