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Authors: James Traynor

Opening Moves (44 page)

BOOK: Opening Moves
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Smith nodded. “Sir, I do realize the dangers, but if we want to satisfy the Congress the possible rewards of sending a platform out under these circumstances are…”

“…are enough to justify putting lives and potential long-term national security considerations in jeopardy?” Campbell finished, it being more of a statement than a question. “You believe the risks are worth it? That we can afford to lose resources if it means gleaning some insight into the tactics of an enemy we probably won't ever have to face?”

Susan thought about it for a second, then nodded. “To fulfill the requirements of the Congress? I certainly do, sir.”

“Enough to bet your career on it?” The Director leaned forward, fixing Smith with a hard gaze. “Or even your life?”

Smith swallowed hard and met his stare. She summoned up her courage. “I think the data we could gain from doing so is worth it.”

A cold glimmer flashed up in Campbell's eyes. “If that's the case, report to Scott Airforce Base tomorrow at six A.M.. You'll be transferred to the U.V.S. ORACLE to make the two months' trip to Akvô.”

Momentarily, Susan's expression froze on her face. She stared at Director Campbell with a look of bewilderment as if he was talking to her in some African dialect.

“You are our expert, after all,” Campbell continued evenly. “The one who has studied every piece about the Dominion. You're the perfect asset to this mission.”


You want me in space, sir?” Smith finally managed to speak, her voice sounding shaken and brittle. “In a battle zone?”


Well, you won't get hard data on the Ashani sitting in a remote cubicle in the Pyramid, will you?” Campbell grinned, an emotion that didn't reach his eyes. “Pack lightly, Miss Smith. I hear there's not much space aboard a
Looking Glass
.”

Susan felt as if someone had pulled the rug out from under her feet. “But... but, I'm not a field agent!” she meekly protested. “I'm…”

“You won't be in the field, Miss Smith. You'll just be on an unarmed ship, two thousand light-years from home, cut off from all reinforcements, stuck in the middle of the most vicious battle in history, according to our predictions. That's what you advocated, isn't it?”


Yes, but no, I mean…” Susan stammered, trying to find a way out of the situation. She had never been in space before, and technically she wasn't even rated to go on field missions, let alone lethally dangerous ones. There was no way she would be put on a stealth recon platform without the proper training. The intellectual part of her brain knew all that. But that part wasn't in control right now. Panic was creeping up on her. She had hoped for an increase in political prestige based on the data that came back. That would've given her political leverage, chips she could call in later when she needed them. She was a data miner. Bloody hell, she didn't actually want to go on the mission and risk herself! All she wanted was the data and the chance to take credit for the idea. “What if something happens?” she finally managed to say.


Like what?” Campbell leaned back again, raising an eyebrow at her. “What could possibly happen? Oh yes, blowing the lid off our most valuable spy tool, or maybe
getting killed
.” The director's face hardened.


It's just, well, I can't be so easily replaced,” Smith tried to find her confidence again. “My knowledge…”


...is no more valuable than the lives of my people or the security of this nation!” Campbell suddenly exploded in cold anger. “This is the black section of the Pyramid! Did you really think I wouldn't know Randolph went to see you?”

Susan balked at the director's unexpected fury – and at stupidly being caught red-handed. She had been so infatuated with the idea of cashing in on the SECSTATE's idea that she had completely ignored the rest of it: the co-workers, the cameras, the biometric sensors... “That was personal, it had nothing…”

“Don't give me that crap, lady,” Campbell snarled in a distinct Long Islander accent as his anger bore through. “I know why the Congress wants to send an expedition and I know who stirred them up. Randolph wants to score some political points, and he is using you and me to do it! Worst case, that imitation of a Southern preacher is going to get
my
people killed on some damn fool mission just so he has a shot at becoming President in the next elections by appearing decisive. I suppose he hasn't thought this one through, has he,” the director snorted, than turned his attention back to Susan. “And I guess he's offered you a favor, huh?”


There wasn't any sort of deal, sir,” Smith lied with the straightest face she could manage. “He just asked my opinions on the Dominion.”


And you gave him
exactly
what he wanted: a way to stick our nose somewhere it doesn't belong, and probably get it cut off. This isn't spying on a Euro colony or some backwater pirate haven. There'll be thousands of ships, thousands of sensors pinging for their crews' dear lives.
Everybody
in that system will have their eyes on their plots, looking for the very kind of irregularities a stealth platform might create,” he snapped. “You know the survivability of an assignment like this? It's a damn suicide mission, and all for some political
game
.”

Smith remained silent, hoping that way she could sit out the storm. She had been eager to send a reconnaissance mission, but now that she was going to be part of it she sincerely felt no desire to go. Everything she had done to date had been theory, totally safe for her. That the decisions she made could lead to great danger for others was a fact she hadn't truly considered until now.

“Do you see what position you've put this agency in?” Campbell growled tiredly. “It's an executive order. We
have
to send an expedition now, even if it makes as much sense as counting sand in the Sahara.”


I can talk to Randolph, maybe do something about it?” Smith offered hurriedly.


I think you've done enough for one lifetime, Miss Smith,” Campbell glared at her until she looked away. “Just thank whatever demon you sold your soul to that you're more valuable here than dead. I hate to say it but your knowledge of the Ashani may prove useful to us, in the long term.”

Susan exhaled audibly. “Yes sir, thank you sir.
Really
, thank you.”


You disgust me, Smith,” he looked her in the eye. “As long as this situation's is ongoing and the SECSTATE's attention is focused on this matter it's closed season for you. But you better start looking for a job outside this agency, because if I find you conspiring behind my back again I'll make sure not even a fast food chain will have you as a janitor.”

Smith nodded glumly. She didn't care about the threat or her future prospects in the agency, not really. Susan had aligned herself with Secretary Randolph. She had known that would bring her into conflict with Director Campbell, though she hadn't expected it to be this soon. That had been a short, sharp lesson in power politics, and a realization like a slap to the face that
she
had almost no power. More importantly, if Randolph lost his influence then her career was over, thanks to Campbell. But all of that,
all
of it, paled to insignificance against the relief of not having to go into mortal danger.


Get out of here,” Campbell dismissed. “I've got to find a way to get us out of this mess without getting a lot of our own people killed.”

Smith stood, the Director not even looking at her twice, and left the room. Once more all eyes were on her as she shuffled quickly to the lift and returned shamefully to her darkened office. She felt humiliated and played, and now that the fear of being sent to her probable death had faded she grew angry and hateful towards the Director. She would have to stay close to Randolph, and when the time came she would be right there beside him, using all her knowledge to get the SECSTATE into office as President of the Union. She was now an enemy of Director Campbell, and if that was the price of her progress, then so be it. Randolph wanted Campbell gone, and from now on Smith was going to be happy to help.

 

 

Akvô, Home world of the Érenni Republics.

 

A stream of plasma erupted into space, a pillar of light as bright as a star and hotter than the hottest furnace that seared and melted anything in its path. Luckily that just happened to be a few loose particles and atoms in the vacuum of space.


Whoa! Whoa!! Rául yelled into the intercom. “Shut it down, quickly!”

The blue-white plume lessened and died away, leaving only a slight wisp of vapor in its wake.

“What the hell just happened?” Tarek Winters demanded angrily. “What are you doing to my ship?”


One of the fuel lines ruptured,” Rául reported in a professional tone belying his own anxiety. He checked the flight deck displays. “Automatic fail safe shut down fuel injection. The line's integrity must've been compromised when we were being skewered by Ashani warships,” he added in a more deadpan voice.

Tarek ran a harried hand over his emaciated face. He had visibly aged years during the past few weeks. He and Rául were on the flight deck, monitoring the ongoing repairs while Alexej and Annie were in EVA gear in the now unpressurized engine room, trying to get the IRON MAIDEN working again. He pressed the intercom key. “Engineering, you guys okay down there?”

“No problem, skipper,” Annie replied almost cheerfully. “We were nowhere near the rupture.”


Glad to hear that. How's the ship? Any damage?”


No more than there already was before. But sadly, not less, either. Skipper, it's a real mess down here.”

After the escape from Senfina they had made a quick survey of the ship and the damage it'd taken. It was amazing the MAIDEN hadn't exploded after the first hit. The Dominion's nimble fighters had done a good job of crippling the old freighter. Putting her back together was a job beyond any of them. This just wasn't something a couple of gifted amateurs could do on their own using just a bunch of power tools. The empty MAIDEN weighed more than six hundred thousand tons; even with Érenni spare parts – and those had cost them nearly an arm and a leg – that was just too much for them to do without a dedicated space dock. And right now every dockyard in Republican space was busy refitting and repairing anything with a pair of guns on it in preparation for the expected Dominion attack.

“Just get us mobile,” Tarek sighed tiredly. “I don't care if we move at a snail's pace as long as you get us into the fold. We'll worry about the rest when we get somewhere safe.”

Llyr, their Tuathaan translator, was currently negotiating for spare parts. They had already bought some very expensive items necessary for repairing the more crucial and delicate parts of the ship. Now Llyr was trying to barter for some more equipment that would hopefully make things a bit easier for them. Problem was, with an Ashani fleet on its way the price of supplies available on the open market had increased astronomically. Simple parts which would have cost a few thousand credits at best were now going for tens, sometimes even hundreds of thousands as profiteers sapped money out of desperate people trying to escape. Desperate people like them.

Captain Natara of the Republican navy had 'liberated' a few parts from the naval yards in gratitude for the MAIDEN's crew's rescue of two thousand Érenni civilians, but there were still a few key components even she couldn't get.

Rául was leaning over the displays on his console, watching pressure gauges on one screen and sensor reports on another. It seemed that half the planet had one eye on the sky, just waiting for the inevitable, waiting for the Ashani to come. There wasn't a sensor platform, be it a satellite, a military vessel or a civilian ship that wasn't scouring every bit of the star system with its sensors.

The Érenni themselves had been strangely quiet. At least the ones he had met when collecting supplies had been. They hadn't spoken much or seemed as if they were all there mentally, all distant and far away looking. He figured they probably had a lot more to think about than some aliens trying to buy stuff...


When did you last get some sleep?” Tarek turned his head and asked quietly.


Me?” Rául raised an eyebrow, his younger face lined with deep furrows. “Dunno, skipper. About a thousand years ago?”


Does seem like a lot's been happening these last few days,” Tarek agreed with a wry grin. “The whole galaxy's just changed around us and we haven't had time to catch our breath and take it all in.”


Just too much, boss,” Rául sighed and rubbed the ridge of his nose, pinching his eyes shut. “When I threw college I didn't expect I'd be watching an entire colony get wiped out. I mean, we saw that as it happened, millions just dying right there in front of us. It's just not something I've ever even thought about before, you know?”


It isn't what I signed up for,” Tarek said glumly. “See the galaxy, make a huge pile of money, maybe find someone cool to settle with, just the normal sort of things a guy would want.”


I get that, it's kinda why I'm here too,” Rául nodded wearily. “Thing is, we've had the money, we've been to more places than I'd ever imagined I'd visit,
and
I think I'm getting quite fond of Annie.”

BOOK: Opening Moves
12.45Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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