Ep.#5 - "Rise of the Corinari" (28 page)

“At least thirty minutes, sir,” Ensign Yosef responded. “An hour would be better.”

“Very well,” Nathan said. “An hour it is.”

* * *

Tug paced up and down the line of eight men in Ta’Akar security uniforms, checking them over one by one as he spoke. “The Ta’Akar always look polished and impressive when they arrive. This helps promote a sense of order and efficiency, and it serves to remind those that they have conquered who is in charge. As a Ta’Akar soldier, you must always appear confident and self-assured. Your eyes must not shift about. Your expression must not falter. You must at all times appear confident in your knowledge that no one would be foolish enough to oppose you and the mighty empire that you represent.”

Tug stopped pacing, standing front and center to face the line of men. “Remember the day that you were inducted. Remember standing on the tarmac as those fearless men marched out of the shuttles. Remember feeling as though your life were about to end. Those men never raised a weapon or even looked at you, yet you feared for your very lives.
That
is how the Ta’Akar operate.
That
is how they maintain discipline, through the knowledge that any and all disobedience will be met with extreme force.”

“
Attention all hands
,” Naralena’s voice announced over the loudspeakers in the hangar bay. “
Prepare for jump
.” The volunteers from the Yamaro’s crew glanced at one another. Thus far, the jump drive had been a rumor which many of them had begun to dismiss as another Corinairan legend.

“Now, we will go through the drills again and again, ensuring that you all move as one unit, the way that you were taught during your basic training on Takara.”

“
Jumping in three……two……one……jump
,” Abby’s voice announced.

Tug watched the faces of the men in the line, none of whom had ever experienced a jump before. To his knowledge, no one other than Marcus had ever described any sensation as a result of a jump. The men looked at each other, wondering if anyone had felt anything.

“
Jump complete
,” Abby announced.

“In case you’re wondering, we are now positioned approximately twelve light hours outside the Savoy system,” Tug told them. As he had anticipated, looks of disbelief spread across their faces. It was certainly not in keeping with their expected performance as Ta’Akar security troops.

“Attention on the line!” Ensign Willard barked in perfect Ta’Akar. It was so perfect, in fact, that the men snapped to attention as if they were back aboard the Yamaro getting yelled at by a nobleman.

Tug looked at Ensign Willard, who had just arrived. He was wearing a Ta’Akar officer’s uniform, complete with the sash of his house’s lineage, just as any nobleman in the Takaran Imperial Forces would wear. “You’re getting into character nicely,” Tug said with a grin. “You wear the sash of your house well.”

“Don’t remind me,” Ensign Willard stated with obvious disgust. “I was sincerely hoping to never wear such uniforms again.”

“Hopefully this will be the last time,” Tug agreed.

* * *

Jessica made her way briskly down the command deck’s main corridor. It was a short distance to the office they had turned into the ‘intel shack’. There was an actual intelligence section designed into the main deck, just forward of the primary bulkheads, but they had been inaccessible for the last month due to the rupture in the Aurora’s bow. The office they had been using had actually been the XO’s office, which Cameron had never gotten around to utilizing. Since Jessica also had to serve as the tactical officer on the bridge, the shack’s close proximity made it quite convenient.

Jessica had spent so much of her time managing the security of the ship over the last few weeks that she had done little actual intelligence work. Although she lived for field operations, she did enjoy the analytical side of the intelligence world as well. Transmissions were perhaps the most common source of intelligence for the Aurora, and while flying through the Savoy system, they would have the perfect opportunity to gather more information about the state of things in this corner of the Pentaurus cluster. The Savoy system was only a light year from Darvano, which made it of particular interest, and until now all the signals intelligence they had gathered on this system was at least one year old.

With Jalea going to Ancot to gather intel on the ground and make contact with any Karuzari hiding out there, it was even more important for Jessica to better understand the state of affairs within the system. She still didn’t trust Jalea, and Jessica wanted to be prepared to second guess any intel Jalea sent their way.

Jessica stepped through the hatch into the intel shack. It was a medium-sized office, with several desks against the walls and numerous monitors affixed to every vertical surface. There were always at least three people on duty, usually two signals technicians and an analyst. Until Travon Dumar had joined the crew, Jessica had been about the only analyst available. She hadn’t minded the extra work, as she did enjoy it, but she was going on several weeks of insufficient sleep, and she could tell it was catching up to her. However, Mister Dumar was picking things up nicely. It may have been a long time since he was in the intelligence business with the Ta’Akar, but his post-service career as a commodities consultant seemed to have kept his analytic eye for details fairly sharp. She was sure that, given a few more weeks, he would be able to take over as the senior intelligence analyst for the Aurora. At least then she could start getting a good night’s sleep for a change.

“Mister Dumar,” she greeted as she entered the room, “any luck breaking the encryption on that messaging unit you found on our frozen bad guy?”

“Not yet, I am afraid. I am hoping that after this mission is completed, Ensign Willard will be able to assist.”

“You might have Deliza take a look at it as well,” Jessica suggested, “when we get back to Karuzara, of course.”

“Deliza?”

“The young lady programming the bridge simulations, Tug’s daughter.”

“I did not realize she was Mister Tugwell’s daughter,” Dumar stated.

“Yeah, she’s a whiz with computers and stuff, so she might be some help as well. So would the Cheng.”

“He is also good with computers?”

“Yup,” Jessica responded. “He hacked the Aurora’s mainframe and turned her off during the last boarding attempt. Probably saved all our butts.”

“I will be sure to enlist his assistance as well.”

“Come to think of it, he might not have the time. There’s still a lot of systems left to install to bring this ship as close to her original design specs as possible.”

“I see.”

“So,” Jessica said, “anything else going on around here?”

“I was just about to deliver Miss Torren’s ID papers and letter of authorization. She will need them to get past the guards at the Ancot spaceport. I also thought I might go by the galley and pick up something to eat while I can, if that is acceptable?”

“Sure. I’ve got nothing to do on the bridge for another forty minutes. I might as well hang out here. Go ahead and take a break; I’ll cover the shack until you return.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant Commander.” He picked up the documents and started for the hatch.

“Hey, pick me up a sandwich while you’re there,” Jessica told him.

“A sandwich?” Mister Dumar wondered, again finding himself unfamiliar with a word.

“It’s like you guys dropped all the best words from the English language when you made Angla,” she complained. “A sandwich. You know, two pieces of bread with some kind of dressing smeared on them, some meat and cheese in the middle, maybe some veggies shoved in there as well.”

“I will ask the cook,” Mister Dumar promised. “Surely he will know what you are referring to.”

“Don’t count on it,” Jessica mumbled as he left the room. “The guy knows nothing about cooking Earth food.”

* * *

Now that the Aurora was underway and there were no longer hordes of technicians coming and going all day, the number of Corinari security personnel roaming the corridors had been greatly reduced. Although all the guards were still on board, most were off duty during the mission. There were, however, still guards protecting the entrances to critical areas of the ship, such as the main hangar bay. If there were ever a time to make his move, this was it.

Dumar made his way aft through the hangar deck toward the two Takaran shuttles parked near the aft end of the bay. As he approached, he noticed Tug conducting another inspection of the team that was headed to Ancot under the guise of picking up inductees on behalf of the Yamaro. Dumar had been briefed on the details of the Savoy mission, and he knew that Mister Tugwell would be required on the bridge to conduct communications with the garrison on Ancot. Other than Ensign Willard and himself, Tug was the only male on board the Aurora who could speak Takaran well enough to be convincing as a communications officer from the Yamaro. Naralena did speak Takaran, but women were not allowed to serve in the Ta’Akar Empire’s military, and Ensign Willard would be departing on the shuttles at the same time. So Tug was it, and that meant that soon, he would be heading for the bridge.

“Mister Dumar,” Jalea greeted, catching him by surprise, “I was about to come see you.”

“Ah, Miss Torren. I have the documents that you requested,” Dumar stated politely, handing them over.

“Thank you, Mister Dumar. You saved me a trip.”

“Your identity will be that of Analise Devonshire,” Dumar explained to Jalea. “The details of your cover are on the data chip. You should memorize them during your flight and then securely delete them from the chip.”

“I am well versed in field procedures, Mister Dumar,” Jalea assured him.

“Of course. My apologies. You are employed by the Royal Bank of Takara as a senior field auditor. I trust you know your way around interstellar banking and accounting so as to be convincing.”

“I believe so, yes,” Jalea assured him.

“These are your ident cards and your data chip carrying your statement of authority and your power of audit as granted by your employers. It should be more than enough to convince the inspectors at the spaceport on Ancot. I would advise against using them any further than that, however.”

Jalea looked over the ident cards, then inserted the data chip into her reader and inspected the statements stored on the chip. “Impressive work, Mister Dumar,” she praised. “Did you create these yourself?”

“Yes,” he assured her. “Documents of such a nature require individual attention to ensure no detail is overlooked.”

“Most impressive,” she repeated as she removed the chip and placed it in her ident card wallet, which went into the pocket of her long, flowing overcoat.

“Thank you. You are too kind.”

“I will be sure to commit the details to memory before we arrive on Ancot,” she promised. “You know, you would have made an excellent Karuzari, Mister Dumar,” she added.

“Too dangerous a line of work for my tastes, I’m afraid.”

“Yet here you are, in equal danger,” Jalea added.

“Perhaps,” Dumar admitted. “A safe journey to you, Miss Devonshire,” he added with a wry smile.

“To us all, Mister Dumar,” Jalea answered as she turned and headed for the shuttle.

Dumar watched Jalea exit. It was ironic that only a few weeks ago, he not only would have killed her on the spot without hesitation, but he would have been greatly honored for doing so.

Having confirmed Tug’s location, Dumar made a discrete withdrawal from his vantage point, making his way back toward the front of the hangar bay. After a few moments, he was through the starboard hatch and was making his way down the corridor. He followed it around to the front of the main hangar bay, where the center hatchway leading into the bay was usually secured for security reasons and was rarely used. Fortunately, there were no guards in the short section of corridor that led from the starboard side of the hangar bay to the center corridor where the ramps were located. As soon as he turned the corner and was out of sight of the guards, he stepped quickly through an open hatch and into a darkened compartment. From there, tucked discretely behind a counter, he would be able to see when Tug rounded the same corner on his way to the bridge. Satisfied with his position, he settled in to wait.

* * *

Tug stepped away from the shuttles as their boarding ramps retracted and the warning lights on their undersides began to flash. The first shuttle rolled out into the over-sized center transfer airlock, pulling to its left to make room for the second shuttle following behind it. Tug watched as the second shuttle pulled in carefully to the right of the first and pulled to a stop. No sooner had it done so than the massive airlock door began to lower into its closed position.

After several days of repeated drills, Tug was satisfied that the volunteers were as convincing as Takaran soldiers as he could make them. At this point, he felt they would benefit more by a short break before their mission began than by continued practice. Soon enough they would receive their launch orders and their dangerous masquerade would begin.

As he stepped through the starboard hatch from the main hangar bay to the starboard corridor, he couldn’t help but worry. However, he felt confident that they would fool the idiots at the garrison. A posting at the Ancot garrison in Savoy was not exactly a prestigious assignment for any noble. Hence, it was reasonable to assume that the officer in charge of the garrison would not be the most efficient commander in the empire. Additionally, Jalea’s business suit was tight enough and sufficiently revealing in all the right places as to adequately distract the officer in charge at the spaceport on Ancot. Jalea had always been quite good at utilizing her charms in such a manner. It was one of the reasons she was such an effective field operative. Unfortunately, it also made her a dangerous ally, and Tug had come close to being cut by that double-edged sword on more than one occasion.

Tug turned the corner from the starboard corridor into the short passageway that led inward to the main central corridor. It was at that moment that he silently cursed himself for letting his own thoughts distract him to the extent that he hadn’t noticed the movement behind him until it was too late; there was already a weapon pressing against his right flank.