Authors: Thomas DePrima
"Any other movement?" Blade asked. "Has he been followed?"
"Tango-Two. No other movement observed on the streets outside the park."
"Tango-Three confirms."
"This is Sierra-leader. I'm moving in. Stay alert for anyone on the perimeter."
Blade moved to the edge of the shadow created by the tree and stopped. One more step and he'd be exposed to view. He knew his spotters would alert him to any sign of outsiders entering the vicinity, so he stepped out and walked calmly towards the believed contact some forty meters away. Wearing the traditional cloak worn by most residents in the Clidepp Empire, it was impossible to distinguish Blade from any of the three sentient species in the Empire.
"Tallaggio," Blade said as he stopped a meter from the other person. It was the contact name he'd established in their communications.
"Melorriat," the other individual, also wearing the traditional cloak with the hood pulled up, said as his recognition name.
Beneath the cloak Blade was wearing his Marine personal body armor, so when he spoke, everything he said was translated into Yolon and emanated from the speaker in his breastplate. The slightly muffled words were a clear indication that he was using electronic equipment, but it was standard practice for people meeting to discuss illegal activity to use voice-altering equipment. "Pull back your hood," Blade said. "I like to see who I'm dealing with."
The Clidepp Empire was home to three sentient species, but Yolongus was almost exclusively inhabited by Yolongis, while elsewhere in the Empire all three species could be found in great numbers. The Yolongi had an appearance not unlike the urban legend 'greys' of twentieth century Earth, but that was mere coincidence. The Olimpood had flabby bodies, which allowed them to be equally at home on land or water, while the Mydwuard had an exoskeleton like that of crustaceans and insects on Earth. Since all three were about the same height and bipedal, it was impossible to tell which species they were while they wore the heavy, full-length cloaks common on the planet.
The contact complied, pushing back his hood far enough for Blade to see he was Yolongi and get a good look at his face before pulling it back into place.
"Now you," the contact said.
As Blade pulled back his hood, the helmet of his armor was exposed, but the faceplate was clear.
"Let me see your face, Terran," the Yolongi said.
Blade made an adjustment so the outer Simage plate displayed a simulated image. It bore no resemblance to his actual features and even mimicked the muscle movements of his face as he talked. It was enough to satisfy the Yolongi. When he nodded, Blade blanked the Simage plate and pulled the cloak forward to conceal his helmet. Anyone passing by wouldn't see anything suspicious in two Yolongis having a discussion in the park.
"Were you responsible for the kidnapping?" the Yolongi asked.
"What kidnapping?"
"The Minister of Antiquities was kidnapped from his home recently. The authorities are baffled. No one has yet claimed credit for the abduction, and no demands for ransom have been received."
"Nope, not us. We just arrived on the planet."
"We?"
"Obviously I'm not here alone."
"No, that's true. How many are you?"
"More than one."
The Yolongi was quiet for a few seconds, then said, "What do you want of me?"
"I need a temporal envelope generator designed to work with GA systems."
"How did you get here without a generator?"
"Ours was damaged by a micro-meteorite while we were stopped in space in this solar system. It's beyond repair. We need a replacement to get home."
"What are you even doing in Clidepp space? I thought all GA citizens and government representatives had been pulled out."
Expecting to be asked, Blade had concocted a cover story. "We've been tracking a Raider ship with Terran slaves on board. We learned they crossed into Clidepp space an annual ago and that their destination was Yolongus, so we followed."
"The Raiders don't take Terran slaves anymore. Space Command put an end to that."
"Don't kid yourself. The Raiders stopped their ship piracy, but they still deal in slavery. They simply abduct their women from planets now. No one pays much attention when a person or two disappears if there were no witnesses to the abduction. Hundreds of thousands of people disappear every year in the GA. Usually it's nothing sinister— just people moving away without telling anyone they were going, but kidnapping, slavery, and murder are more common than the authorities like to admit. It's well known that Yolongi men like Terran women, so for a slave ship, a destination of Yolongus was understandable. They're aboard a single-hull freighter."
"And Space Command didn't stop them at the border?"
"There's so much refugee activity at the border right now that less than one ship in a hundred entering GA space is being stopped. And with ships outbound from GA space, that number is probably one in ten thousand."
"Okay. So you need a GA-compatible generator. I think I can arrange that. It's not contraband, so I won't have any trouble transporting it if I can locate one. But it's going to be expensive."
"How expensive?"
"Oh, for a working generator, I'd say about a hundred thousand GA credits."
"Too much. We don't have that kind of money with us."
"Too bad. I guess you're stuck in Clidepp space for the foreseeable future."
"I could give you ten thousand credits now, and have Space Command deposit one hundred twenty thousand GA credits into any inter-nation account you name within thirty solars once we ascertain the generator is in good working condition."
The Yolongi hesitated for a moment, then shook his head. "It could take an annual to actually have the funds available to me."
"But you'd have the safety and security of the GA to guarantee the funds would be there when you went to use them. With the civil war raging here, how safe is the monetary system?"
Blade could tell the Yolongi didn't seem too keen on the idea. When he shook his head, Blade said, "How about trade goods?"
"What do you have?"
"Food, medical supplies, and clothing."
"I don't trade in any of those items. How about weapons?"
"No weapons."
"Then I guess we're not able to do any business, unless..."
"I'm listening?"
"What are you going to do with the Raider ship when you find it?"
Blade immediately realized why the Yolongi had refused his offer of GA credits. Melorriat had been wondering how he could get his hands on the Raider ship ever since Blade first mentioned it. He knew Space Command had no use for seized freighters and usually sold them as part of the interdiction process. "We'll free the slaves and imprison the Raiders."
"But what about the ship?"
"We're too far from GA space to take it back. We'll probably just send it on a one-way trip into the nearest star."
"I'll get you what you need in exchange for the ship."
"If we get the ship, we can take their generator. Most Raider ships are made by the Uthlaro, and their systems are compatible with ours."
"But without an envelope generator, you'll never catch them. They'll have FTL, while you're limited to sub-light."
"We might not catch up to them at all."
"The GA usually gets what it goes after. I'm patient. And I trust GA officers to always stick to their word."
Blade hesitated for a second, then said, "Okay. You have a deal. Get us a good, useable generator compatible with our system, and you get the Raider freighter when we capture it. All we want are the slaves and the Raider criminals."
"Done," the Yolongi said. "I'll be in touch as soon as I've found your generator."
Blade watched as the Yolongi turned and walked away without another word, then turned and walked back to his former position. "All Alpha posts. Any other activity in the park?" Blade asked his people.
"Nothing," Alpha-One said.
"All clear," Alpha-Two said.
"Clear," both Alpha-Three and Alpha-Four said.
"Okay, let's head back to the ship. We'll meet at the entrance to the park before heading into the factory complex."
Weems had set the ship down in the designated location at the deserted factory complex roughly half a klick from the RP when they'd first arrived. The area was large enough for the MAT and surrounded by supposedly empty buildings. After the Major and his people exited the ship, First Sergeant Larson had joined Weems as he resealed the MAT, then remained on the flight deck while they used the craft's external vid units to scan the area continuously. Thermal scans had shown a number of vagabonds watching the ship cautiously from concealed locations among piles of trash, and their numbers had been growing. Perhaps they believed this was an opportunity to enrich their miserable lives.
"Lieutenant, this is the Major. We've concluded our business here and are returning to the ship."
"Major, the neighborhood here has gotten very unfriendly since you left. It might be better if I came to the park to get you."
"Negative. The fewer people who see the MAT, the better."
"Then exercise extreme care as you approach the ship. Thermal scans show at least thirty individuals hiding in the trash piles around the ship."
"Thanks for the heads-up. We'll be ready for them."
As Blade and his team assembled at the park entrance, all hell suddenly broke loose.
"This is Tango-Two. My way out is blocked by people in filthy cloaks yelling and swinging clubs."
Tango-Two's post had been on a rooftop from where he could see for blocks.
"Use your laser rifle, Tango-Two. Put them down."
"Roger, Sierra-Leader."
As Tango-Two started firing into the crowd, the screams grew in intensity. At the same time, Tango-Six reported a similar situation and that he was about to use the same solution. The teams listened as the two men reported their progress, then Tango-One reported running into the same trouble. The problem was over in a few minutes. Once the Marines began using their laser rifles, the scum melted back into their hiding places.
Several minutes later, the team was reunited at the park entrance.
"Everyone okay?" Blade asked.
A chorus of oo-rahs came back over Com-Three.
"Okay, let's move out. We can probably expect to get the same reception back at the MAT. The Lieutenant reports at least thirty individuals hiding in the piles of garbage near the ship. Be ready for anything."
As the team approached the small ship, street people emerged from everywhere. The thirty or so hiding in the trash piles were just a tiny sample of the force that had gathered inside the buildings. They had probably been assembling since the MAT landed. It was no wonder the cops feared to come down here after dark. All at once, the dirty and bedraggled charged, screaming and waving clubs or whatever weapons they had. But if the street people had known who they were dealing with, they would have stayed in their garbage heaps.
The Special Ops Marines pulled back their cloaks to reveal weapons already drawn but being held under their cloaks until needed. As they began firing into the screaming, rushing mass, bodies started to fall. At the same time, blinding and deafening explosions from flash-bang grenades landing in the midst of the attackers added additional chaos to the scene. A large, remotely controlled laser weapon suddenly appeared from a hidden gun port in the roof of the MAT and added it's firepower to that of the Marines on the ground. Within seconds, people were rolling on the ground, screaming in pain, or simply lying there, staring at the sky with unseeing eyes.
The tramps who realized they had made a serious error in judgment when they'd attempted to overcome the eleven cloaked figures turned and fled. A few foolhardy individuals, perhaps high on fermented juice or drugs, continued to attack until they met their end. The Marines never fired at anyone running away, so the attack was over in minutes.
"Lieutenant, you can open the hatch now," Blade said to Weems.
"Aye, Major."
Within two minutes the Marines were inside the MAT and strapped in. Weems lifted off and headed back to the volcano, hugging the ground as much as possible once outside the city.
~ April 2
nd
, 2286 ~
Sydnee listened quietly as Blade recounted the details of the evening. Their relationship had improved immeasurably since Blade's blowup over Sydnee's refusal to leave the Marines at the package's home.
"That's wonderful news, Major. You've done very well. My engineers are at your disposal if you want to take one of them when you go inspect the generator."
"I'll do that."
"It can't happen soon enough for me. I want to be off this planet and on our way back. How's your prisoner doing?"
"The brig the engineers of the
Denver
constructed in the habitat before we departed is great. He hasn't been out of it since he was taken. He's gone off a few times, calling us assassins and demanding that he be allowed see his ambassador, but the guards have orders not to converse with him at all lest they say something they shouldn't reveal. Not being able to get any response really sets him off. If he gets too vocal, the guard puts him to sleep with a stun weapon. Then we enter the cell and put him on his bed and the doc checks his condition. When he awakens seven or eight hours later, he appears fine."
"How many times have you had to stun him?"
"Eight, I think. Have you heard from the
Denver
?"
"Not yet."
"It seems we should have heard back by now. Perhaps we should query them?"
"Normally, I'd agree without reservation, but we're not in GA Space. And since we're so deep inside Clidepp space, we're trying to keep communications to a minimum by restricting them to vital information only. I'm sure the
Denver
can't enter Clidepp space without permission from SHQ, so they're probably waiting for that to come through."
"Surely the Clidepp military can't read our encrypted transmissions?"
"We hope not. But we don't know for sure, so it's best not to risk it. And the more often we broadcast out on Space Command frequencies, the greater the chance the Clidepp military can pinpoint our location. Everything is sent in burst mode, and the outbound signal only lasts a microsecond, but it's still better to be cautious when behind enemy lines. Any idea on when you'll hear from the contact?"