Sertian Princess (12 page)

For those who stayed the course, the Regiment became their life. It looked after them and their families, not only during their tour of duty, but even after they had retired from active service.  Many of the Guard only served one five-year tour of duty and then left, putting their discipline and training, if not their combative skills, to use in civilian life.  The Regiment was quite content to see them go and to continue to pay their pensions and, as a result, ex-guardsmen were now scattered the length and breadth of the Galaxy.  Their existence meant that, wherever the Imperial Guard was sent, in often no more than platoon strength, they were sure to see a friendly face; maybe a comfortable billet, or maybe a source of information.

Many more of the Guard stayed for several tours of duty, and it was the experience of these veterans, in many different types of conflict, that helped make the Imperial Guard such a feared fighting unit.  The training they received was second to none, and so was the equipment they used.  Every man was as equipped and able to fight in deep space as in a planetary environment, so the larger warships always carried a complement of Guardsmen although smaller ships, like the Andromeda and the Cleopatra, would not normally have enough room.

The detachment of seven now jetting across to the Cleopatra, represented a formidable amount of fire-power.  The standard issue laser rifles which they carried, were powered by miniature fusion cells strapped to their backs, and could be adjusted from pulse to beam operation at the flick of a switch.  In beam mode, they were capable of burning a one centimetre hole through 25 centimetre ceramic armour plate, at a distance of 10 kilometres.  In pulse mode, the energy which they released, was capable of destroying the power and electrical systems of an unshielded tank or small space craft.

Each guardsman had a personally tailored suit of Biridium space armour, fitted over a thin coverall made out of the latest environmental control fabric.  These fabrics could be programmed during manufacture, to maintain on the inside, a very narrow range of temperature, whatever the conditions outside.  Thus, the Guard could operate in a large number of otherwise hostile environments; from the intense cold of deep space, to the searing heat found on some inner planets.

The helmets they used were packed with electronics for sensing, analysis and display.  The helmet could provide a full visual image using either normal light or infrared, and had an audio pick-up range that went both below and well above, the normal range of the human ear.  There was a target acquisition system built in which gave a head-up display of data for tracking purposes.  Finally, there was a sophisticated communications network providing links not only to the local command and between the individual members of the squad, but also, in an emergency and by using the power of the fusion cell, direct to the Regimental HQ.

One solitary guardsman was, therefore, a self-contained fighting unit wielding tremendous destructive power on his own account, but also able to call up support at either a local or regimental level.  Because of this, it was rarely necessary to deploy the Guard in more than platoon strength, and often an individual guardsman was sufficient to deal with a situation.  On one historic occasion during the Canine Insurrection, two guardsmen completely suppressed a rebellion by 6000 armoured militia in the system of Rongal.

That the High Command had despatched a squad of seven guardsmen on this mission, was, therefore, a point of some amazement to Mikael.  Just how big a situation was the Cleopatra being thrust into.  He watched as the twinkling dots approached the ship and resolved themselves into armoured figures.  It would be crowded on the forward messdeck with the six extra guardsmen and all their equipment.  Two of his junior officers would also have to bunk in together to free a cabin for the Guards Officer.  He hoped that the operation would not take too long as tempers could easily become frayed in overcrowded conditions.

"Bosun reports that all seven guardsmen are safely on board, sir. The airlock is being recycled."

"Thank you.  Make a signal to Andromeda.  'Transfer successfully completed.  Would like to stop and chat, but we must be off.  Some other time, maybe.'"

He gave the orders to head for the second rendezvous point and watched as the Cleopatra swung away from the frigate and started preparations for a jump.

"Message from Andromeda, sir.  'Pleasure doing business with you.  Goodbye and good luck, little friend.'"

One of the entrances to the bridge irised open and Frank came through leading the Guards Officer.  He had removed his space armour and donned instead, the splendid uniform of a full Lieutenant in the Imperial Guard.  Frank led him over to the commander's console where Mikael was standing.

"Sir, I have the officer commanding the Guards detachment here. Captain Boronin, this is His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Gerald of Serta."

CHAPTER 12

The Phoenix stood alone on Andes spacefield, just about as far from the Terminal and Administration buildings as it was possible for the Authorities to put it.  The idea of allowing such a rusty old hulk to set down alongside the sleek and gleaming ships which now commonly visited Andes, was more than the Spaceport Authorities could bear.  If it had not been an emergency, they might well have refused permission for the Phoenix to land at all.

Andes was a very much larger and more important spaceport than Floreat, lying as it did, not only on the major trade route N3E, but also at the confluence of two minor trade routes.  As a consequence, Andes had an important role as an interchange station for passengers and cargo between the different routes.  While the facilities on Floreat were mostly recreational, catering for the tourist trade, many of the hotels clustered around the Andean spacefield were designed for business travellers who stayed for a night or two, awaiting their onward connection.  Within the spaceport complex, there were extensive bonded warehousing facilities for cargo which also had to be stored awaiting onward shipment.

Unlike the Aldebaran, which was a luxury liner for passenger use only, the majority of ships which plied the various trade routes, were adapted to carry both passengers and cargo.  The concessions made to passengers on some of the basic freighters, were fairly minimal, but they represented the only regular connection to some of the more remote systems.  Between the larger and more populous systems there was usually a scheduled passenger and freight service, but whatever the size or type of ship, they always called at Andes.

And so the Phoenix had been tucked away, as nearly out of sight as possible, to await a repair crew from the giant Palatine shipyard on Bosphorus.  Three crew from the Salamander had already been despatched to connect with the next transport coming in from the direction of Bosphorus, and pretend to be shipyard mechanics.  Once on Andes, they would proceed to repair the Phoenix; a job which would take at least twenty minutes.  Their orders, however, were to stretch the repair into nearer 24 hours and then announce that they would have to take the Phoenix back to Bosphorus for further investigation.  It was anticipated that the Authorities on Andes would be only too glad to see the back of the decrepit old freighter and would not ask too many embarrassing questions of the repair crew.

The Blue Star Streak Group, meanwhile, were assembled in a room in one of the business class hotels on the edge of the spacefield.  Corin had already visited the Information Desk in the Terminal building and collected the waiting messages.  There were two of them.  One was from David and Marienna, describing the events at Floreat spaceport, and the changed game plan.  The other message was from Khan, giving all the known information about their fellow travellers who would be joining the Aldebaran at Andes or who had joined at Floreat.  All of the ones from Floreat were clean or, at least, had nothing recorded against the identities which they were using.  As far as the Centre was concerned, they were all model citizens of the Empire.  Even Morten M. Jorgensen, who for some reason had caught David's eye on board the liner and on whom the Centre had been requested to run a double check, had come up with nothing more serious than a handful of traffic violations on his home planet.  He owned a small chemical business on Quental and travelled to Floreat several times a year on company business.  He had just completed a sales promotion and was now apparently returning home.

The list of those joining at Andes was longer than that from Floreat, but it was here that they got their first break.  There were 63 names on the list, including Corin and the five members of the Blue Star Streak Group.  Of the 57 other names on the list, there was nothing recorded against 56 of them, but one name had set the bells ringing at the Centre.  Stefan Pulowski was known to be an associate of one of the largest black market arms suppliers in this sector of the Galaxy.  Neither he nor his boss had ever been convicted of any crime, but they been put under surveillance a few years back as part of an investigation into a shipment of laser cannons which eventually turned up in Vostov.

"So," Corin said, when they had finished going through the lists. "We seem to have just the one possibility: Stefan Pulowski.  It's now 10:08.  The shuttle from the Aldebaran is due to touch down at 17:45. That gives us just under 8 hours to find him and see what we can learn. The passengers for the shuttle will probably not start arriving at the Terminal until mid-afternoon, so if we stake out the entrances, we should pick him up as he comes in.

"It's a certainty that he won't be operating alone.  The opposition will have sent in a team for this job, so watch who he speaks to, or simply for any sign of recognition.  We'll operate in teams of two; Tessa and Carly, you'll be team 1; Cerys and Brianey, team 2; Zara and myself will be team 3.  Teams 1 and 2 will go straight to the Terminal building now, and find yourselves positions from which you can observe the entrances.  Zara and I will check the local hotels, see if we can pick him up there and, if we get lucky, find out what the hotel staff can tell us about his visitors.  If we can't track him down, we'll join you at the Terminal no later than 15:00.  Any questions?"

He looked round at each girl in turn but got no response.

"Ok then.  You've each got a copy of Pulowski's photograph and description.  Off you go and good luck."

When the four girls had left the room, Zara spoke up.

"Corin, you go ahead with the hotel check; that was a good idea.  I want to go back to the Phoenix and get Sam to do some research for me.  Is that ok?"

Although Lord David had put him in charge of the group, Corin knew better than to stand in Zara's way.  If she had her own line of enquiry to pursue, the odds were that it was likely to be as productive as anything he could suggest.

"Sure, that'll be fine.  I can manage the hotel check on my own.  We can meet up again in the Terminal, say at the Information desk at 15:00.  Will that give you enough time?"

"Yes, that should be more than enough.  15:00 at the Information desk, then."

***

Within the spaceport complex, many of the shipping lines and freight forwarding agents, had offices in the Administration building.  It was in a ground floor room at the back of this building that a second group of people was assembling.  Stefan Pulowski was there talking to a tall, slightly greying man who had a definite military air about him.  Until three years ago, Darren Rodgers had been a Major in one of the crack armoured regiments.  He had once had a good career, solid rather than spectacular, but with a clean and unblemished record.  However, he had served his 30 years and despite applying for reselection, he had been forced to retire.  He had never forgiven the bureaucrats within the army administration for forcing him out when he felt he still had so many good years left to give and as a result, he had been an easy mark for one of Wolfram's recruiting agents.

Stefan had worked with the Major before and had been impressed with his organising ability.  Although he might have some slight doubts about the Major's reactions under fire, he was experienced enough to recognise that a good team needed men with many different abilities and skills.  The Major was Alpha Leader, but when it came to the action it would be Stefan who would be in the front line.  The thought did not particularly bother him; it seemed as though he had been in one front line or another, all his life.  Violence was his trade, and he was good at his job.

The other two members of Alpha group, Stefan had never met before.  Xieng was a Martial Arts expert, useful in close confines where the discharge of energy weapons could be as much hazardous to your own health, as to the enemy's.  He had also at one time, been a Medical Student and knew how to administer the drugs, if it became necessary to sedate the Princess.  Foss, on the other hand, was a thief.  He too, had seen military service but, unlike the Major, he had served only the minimum time that he was legally obliged to.  However, during that brief and extremely undistinguished career, Foss had received some very valuable training in one particular subject: explosives.  After the army, he had put this knowledge to good and very profitable use, becoming one of the best powder men in the business.  He could judge precisely the quantity and placement of explosive which would be just sufficient to remove a door or even a complete wall.  He was in the group to guarantee them access to the Princess, even if she had been warned and had locked herself away.

Stefan stopped pacing the room and swung angrily around on the Major.  "What the hell's keeping Beta group.  They should be here by now."

"Their ship only landed an hour ago," he replied calmly.  "They have to clear Customs and Immigration the same as anybody else.  Just relax; they'll be here."

He had barely finished speaking when the door to the office opened and two men and a woman walked in.  That the two men were brothers was immediately obvious.  Apart from their facial similarities, they were of roughly the same height and build and to crown it all, they both had a shock of bright red hair.  The woman who was with them, was the type of beauty who could turn heads simply by walking into a room.  Slightly above average height, she had curves in all the right places, although her breasts were a little too large for her figure to achieve classical proportions.  But it was her face that always drew the attention.  Haloed by a mass of natural blonde curls, she had brilliant blue eyes, downy soft cheeks and full red lips that were slightly parted in a warm and inviting smile.  All in all it was an excellent cover for a cold blooded killer, for that was what she and her two companions were.

Stefan only knew the three of them by reputation.  He had never met them before and he watched now in open admiration as the blonde led the group across to the Major.

"Major Rodgers?" she asked.  Her voice had a husky quality to it, which only served to enhance the image she projected.  "You are the Alpha Group Leader?"

The Major nodded in reply.  "You're late Maddie.  You were due in yesterday."

"We had a little difficulty in persuading the Captain of that filthy little scow that he really wanted to divert to Andes to drop us off."

"Oh, Maddie.  You were told to keep out of trouble on the way here.  The Captain isn't going to make a complaint, is he?"

"There'll be no complaint.  The Captain is, unfortunately, no longer with us and his First Officer is much more understanding.  Besides, we had no choice.  If we hadn't diverted that ship, we couldn't have made this connection at all."

"All right, all right," he grumbled irritably.  "You're here now. Let's make the introductions and get on with it.  Pulowski, Xieng, Foss, these are the Slatters."

He indicated each in turn as he spoke.  "This is Maddie, that's Karl and Bruno.  Maddie is the Beta Group Leader."

"Well, hello Maddie," Stefan said, ignoring the narrowed eyes of both the redheads.

"Stefan Pulowski.  I've heard about you.  This trip could turn out to be more interesting than I anticipated."

The tension in the room was rising quite rapidly as Maddie held Stefan's eyes with her own.  Abruptly the Major cut in.

"Now let's get one thing clear right at the outset.  Once we leave this room, there will be no further contact between the Alpha and Beta groups: none whatsoever."

The Slatter brothers relaxed visibly.

"We know that the Centre will have agents on board the Aldebaran," he went on.  "What we don't know is how many.  We identified two of them at Floreat, but there may well be more.  And they will be trying to identify us, just as we need to find them.  So all contact between us will be kept to the absolute minimum.  Is that understood?"

"Who are the agents we've identified?" Maddie asked, sidestepping his question.

"The man is Lord David Held.  We haven't managed to identify the woman yet, but they are travelling as husband and wife.  We have to assume that she is an agent also and not just cover for him."

"All right.  Give me their details and we'll put them under surveillance as soon as we get on board."

"There is a problem.  Our people on Floreat tried to take out the man Held... and missed.  He will, therefore, be alerted and on his guard."

"Why don't we just hit them both straight away: end of problem," Bruno asked in a bored voice.

"You cloth eared idiot."  Maddie rounded on him with a startling ferocity.  "You haven't heard a word that's been said.  We need to know whether the Centre has any other agents on board.  Killing these two won't tell us.  It will only alert the other agents, if there are any."

"I don't care when you take him out, Maddie," the Major said.  "But make sure you do it properly.  This man Held is dangerous."

"Don't worry.  Killing people is a Slatter speciality.  We're very good at it."

***

Zara's first port of call was the office of the Controller of Ground Transport.  He proved quite susceptible to such a charming young lady with a problem that was clearly not of her making.  After all, it was not her fault that the Spaceport Authorities had insisted that the Phoenix set down on the far side of the spacefield, nearly three miles distant from the Administration Complex.  Why, therefore, did she not accept the loan of an official hovercar to go to collect the medical supplies which had been inadvertently left behind.  Zara quickly thanked him and left, promising to return the hovercar to him, personally.

On board the Phoenix, the systems had been left on stand-by so that they could be reactivated quickly and brought up to full operational status.  Zara concentrated on the Comms system and set about establishing a secure link to the Salamander.  Sam had completed the earlier research, which Zara had requested, and had sent a list of seven possibilities to her on the Phoenix: seven known Vostovian agents or assassins, whose movements could not be accounted for, around the time of the death of Queen Serena.  None of the names matched with the list of Aldebaran passengers which Khan had supplied, but then, no professional assassin would maintain an identity beyond the end of the job for which it had been created.