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Chapter 31


“Deception is a dangerous tool. Even as it is wielded, deception changes the deceiver in subtle ways.”


Devlin Sinclair-Maru, Integrity Mirror


“You take an awful risk leaving Ramos in your bridge crew,” Inga Maru said as they made their way aft.

Saef glanced over his shoulder at her. “Do you honestly believe he’s anything more than he claims?”

Inga took a bite from her food bar and shrugged. “No. Poor sod.”

Saef nodded. “Neither do I, and any meddling with him would be a dead giveaway to whoever else is sharpening a knife.”

Inga smiled brightly. “Certainly no agent would believe we could be stupid enough to leave a known saboteur running about on the bridge, free to do whatever mischief he wishes.”

“You have a positive knack for cutting to the heart of it.”

They approached the keyway waist hatch, and Saef caught a momentary glimpse of a ship services rating looking through the open hatch. The rating disappeared from sight, likely going about his duties, and Saef pressed on toward Marine country. Just as he reached the hatch, Saef heard a catch in Inga’s breath and the distinctive slide of steel.

Saef’s hands dropped to his weapons even as he felt the icy plunge into the Deep Man, but Inga sprang forward. He saw her flash past him through the hatch, her bare blade in a two-handed grip, her cloak snapping out behind. He saw the slash of sword pass a handsbreadth above her head as she ducked through, and he accelerated into motion, pistol in his left hand, sword in his right.

As Saef cleared the hatch he saw Inga lunge blade first, her teeth bared as she thrust, then she cleared her red-tipped blade to block a riposte, two-handed, her sword ringing sharply. As she flew back from the force of the blow, Saef saw their foe, the ship services rating, a large heavyworlder who fell even as Saef’s sword moved. Inga’s singular attack had pierced the ambusher’s heart, leaving him only his final riposte before collapsing.

The rating’s eyes hazed over, and Saef quickly scanned the remainder of the compartment for any threat. It stood empty.

Inga stood to her feet, her eyes still wild under her blonde disarray.

“Are you injured, Maru?”

“No,” she said, wiping her blade on the tail of her dark cloak and sheathing it in one motion. She smiled unevenly. “Loki says no one saw. So your kill.”

Saef measured her with his eyes for a moment, then nodded. She could remain a secret weapon at least a bit longer.

Inga retrieved her food bar from the deck, blew on it ineffectually, and took a bite.

Saef looked upward slightly. “Loki, log this assault, and inform Major Mahdi, please.”

“Yes, Captain,” Loki’s audible voice responded.

Inga chewed her food bar a moment before saying, “You know, the Marines could be the second half of the ambush.”

Saef stood over the fallen rating with his sword and pistol still in hand. “What a distressing possibility.” Inga finished the food bar and moved deeper into the recreation area, empty still following the transition. Her hands disappeared beneath her cloak and Saef heard the faint click of her submachine gun release.

“Loki warned you of the ambusher?” Saef asked, glancing down at the heavyworlder’s sprawled form.

Inga gazed levelly at Saef. “Loki warned me.”

Saef nodded, musing. “Our ship Intelligence is remarkably useful.”

Inga grimaced slightly, about to say something, when the aft hatch cycled and Major Mahdi entered, flanked by Sergeant Kabir and a rare non-heavyworld Marine corporal. Susan Roush stepped in behind them, scowling.

Major Mahdi glanced at Inga’s flanking position, missing nothing.

“Secure that,” Major Mahdi ordered, jerking his head at the rating sprawled, dead. Sergeant Kabir and the corporal frisked the body, and secured the limp arms before hauling the body aft.

“What happened, Captain?” Major Mahdi asked, his eyes touching on Saef’s bare blade and pistol before swiveling to glance back at the cloaked figure of Inga Maru. Susan Roush stood back, silent.

“That one made his try as we came through the hatch, Major.”

“Know him?”

Saef shook his head, sheathing his sword. “Barely spoke to the fellow. Should I know him?”

“Thorsworld native,” Major Mahdi said. “Heard you crossed swords with one of them not long ago. They’re a clannish bunch.”

“Search his cabin,” Saef said. “He violated the honor code.… You ever know a Thorsworlder who would stoop to cheating against a mere Core dweller?”

Major Mahdi offered a thin smile. “You’ve got a point, but I’ve already got Marines sifting that bloke’s kit. We’ll see.”

A dumb-mech ambled in and began cleaning up the mess on the deck, and Susan Roush finally spoke up, “You wanted to see me?”

Saef glanced around at the very public compartment. “Shall we step into my office? There are some developments in Delta Three that need our attention, the three of us.”

The three officers and Inga wedged into the closet-like chamber. Inga stood, leaning against the wall, while Mahdi and Susan Roush claimed the two seats facing the desk, and Saef settled behind its slender, Spartan width. A tiny holo filled one side of the desk.

“If you will, please,” Saef said.

Saef called up the main sensor feeds in his UI and pushed them to the small holo. The Delta Three system appeared, each human-made feature highlighted. Roush leaned closer to the tank, then growled. “Where the hell is their shitty little defense platform?”

“Blown to bits, it appears,” Saef said.

Roush looked stricken. “Then what’s to discuss? The enemy bastards are here, and you’re joining me as a gods-damned pariah for dragging your heel so long getting here. Just fucking wonderful.”

Major Mahdi looked from Roush to Saef, his expression neutral.

“Delta Three station still broadcasts a valid Fleet signature beacon,” Saef said.

Roush’s mouth compressed into a line, her brow lowering.

“Their defense platform must have suffered a tragic accident of some kind,” Saef said lightly.

“Like hell,” Roush said.

“So,” Saef continued as if Roush never spoke, “Delta Three station and planetside are still in Fleet control, clearly.”

“Oh, clearly,” Major Mahdi rumbled, smiling.

Roush shook her head. “We play this charade and sit out our six-month cruise, waiting for a rebel attack that’s never coming. Sooner or later that’s going to bite us in the ass. Either we run now and get reamed for being tardy on station, or we sit on station for six months, or however long it takes for Fleet to find out what’s afoot here, and then we get reamed for being tardy and incompetent.”

“Loki, show us the optical composite of Delta Three station, please,” Saef said.

The holo tank resolved a knobby dark lump, contrasting against the bright face of Delta Three planetside. Tanager stood far too distant for even the finest optical composites to resolve much detail, but a trained eye could discern quite a lot from the dark blot.

“This station is packed with traffic,” Roush said, studying the image. “Maybe a dozen ships docked on the little turd.”

“Are you feeling your greed, Captain?” Major Mahdi asked.

Saef fixed the major with a steady gaze. “Perhaps. More importantly, the Admiralty certainly feels theirs.”

Roush and the Major stared at the screen, musing, while Inga fished a food bar from beneath her cloak, her eyes flickering with some perpetual stream of data.

“If the enemy ever managed to capture a station like Delta Three,” Susan Roush said, forming her words with uncharacteristic care, “and they somehow kept an operable Fleet Intelligence running, they could scoop up a basketful of merchant traffic. But they’d keep warships on-system, sure as shit. Those would come running if, say, a little frigate came in trying to throw a loop around anything.”

“Yes,” Saef said, “your little frigate would take days to close with a station under normal Fleet protocols. That’s why the protocols must fall.”

“Inefficiency,” Roush said.

“Yes, as a start,” Saef said. “Fortunately for us, we need not go in with guns blazing.”

“But you are going in?”

“Yes.”

“The Admiralty will crucify you,” Roush said. “Their critique of your recklessness, proven.”

“Only if we fail, Roush. They chastise me for being too reckless, so I drag my heel in abundant caution. They chastise you for being too cautious, and let them see how responsive you are!”

“And where do my Marines come in, Captain?” Major Mahdi said.

Saef glanced at Roush, then back to Major Mahdi. “Your Marines are central to any plan I can visualize. Have you ever considered a method of taking down a vessel with the Intelligence still active?”

Major Mahdi’s face revealed nothing. “We could figure something out, I expect.”

“It may not come to it,” Saef said. “We’ll close with the station and see if they try to brazen it out, or if they mobilize a heavy response.”

“They don’t need that heavy of a response to swat us,” Roush grumbled.

“Loki, show us the station defenses, please,” Saef said.

The holo swirled, resolving a file schematic of the modest Delta Three orbital station. It surely represented the pride and the future of Delta Three system, with its tentacles of docking ports and substantial facilities, but defenses were minimal.

“Point-defense beam weapons and that kinetic driver,” Roush mused. “So we outclass them, even with our pop guns.”

“Depending upon what’s docked right now, yes,” Saef said. “But slugging it out shouldn’t be necessary. We’ll catch them flat-footed and get close, under a…a subterfuge, shall we say. They’ll never expect it.”

Major Mahdi nodded appreciatively, but Roush frowned. “Of course they won’t expect it. They probably have a copy of our orders, and they know we have no authority to do anything.”

“Exigent circumstances, Roush,” Saef said. “Isn’t that the line the Admiralty used on you?” Roush just scowled, and Saef turned to Major Mahdi. “It occurs to me that the planetary governor is the only official on-system that has the authority to countermand my orders. He also could be holding the leash of the station’s Intelligence.”

“You’ve been thinking some,” Major Mahdi said.

“If the enemy’s got a knife to the governor’s throat it would explain a great deal.”

“Or if the governor’s turned his coat himself,” the major said.

Saef gazed blandly at Major Mahdi. “Surely not. If he made an open play for the uprising, he’d be in the middle of a surface war, wouldn’t he?”

Major Mahdi snorted. “Or you prefer the flavor of a rescue operation to holding your own knife to his throat.”

Saef maintained a bland expression. “It seems we understand each other tolerably well, Major.”

“So you’re thinking I’d split my Marines. Insert some on the governor, keep some for the station. That makes for thin company.”

“Our knowledge evolves, Major. Tell us if it’s beyond you.”

“Can’t bait me, Captain. Not that way,” the Major said. “Have you given a thought for the expense? The reentry spikes alone are what? Fifty thousand apiece?”

Saef just offered a thin smile.

“Efficiency is long gone,” Roush said. “We either win big here, or we put our damned heads on the block.”

Major Mahdi looked back and forth between Roush and Saef, glanced at Inga Maru’s half smile, then leaned over the desk, resting both thick arms before him. “Commodore Zanka is a friend of mine. He would want me to point out that what you consider is a flagrant disregard of orders, and a horrible risk.”

Roush crossed her arms, saying nothing, and Saef raised his eyebrows inquisitively.

“My Marines will be ready,” the major said. “What’s the time frame?”

Roush looked at Saef expectantly, and Saef steepled his fingers. “Things accelerate rapidly now,” Saef said. “Be prepared for both operations in twenty hours.”

Major Mahdi made a startled noise, his placid demeanor overset. “What?”

“Efficiency is the first casualty, Major,” Saef said. “Speed is the order of the day.”

“Twenty hours! Gods! Is that even possible?”

“For the ship to be on station? Yes.”

Major Mahdi shook his head. “Even in simulations, I’ve never seen such a thing.” He paused, thinking. “If we can pull the intel for the governor, my Marines will be ready. If we can’t, then inserting on his location is a buggered mess.”

“Extraction could be interesting,” Roush offered.

“If I can get to the governor, that doesn’t worry me much,” the major said. “We can get up out of the well on our own, I expect. Just don’t run off and leave the system.”

“Very good, Major,” Saef said, standing. “Put your teams together. Let me or the XO know if you need anything.”

The office hatch chimed, and all four looked at the hatch expectantly as a corporal stepped halfway in.

“Major, we completed the search of the attacker’s cabin,” the corporal said. “This is the only item the ship geist didn’t like.” He held out a sealed sample bag. Major Mahdi and Roush stared at the bag uncomprehendingly, but Saef and Inga shared a sidelong look. Inga smiled and raised her eyebrows. Clearly Loki had provided running updates for her benefit.

“What the shit is that?” Roush demanded.

“Begging your pardon, Commander,” the corporal said, “the geist says it don’t know, but says it won’t explode.” He held up the flat gray rectangle and looked at it curiously, not knowing that its twin sat confined in Saef’s cabin even as they spoke.

* * *

A few minutes later, a whirlwind of preparation filled Marine country, Roush made her way to the bridge, and Inga walked with Saef to the infirmary.

Tanager’s infirmary barely deserved the name. It offered a basic techmedico with a couple of attendant suspension cots, and no dedicated personnel whatsoever. The Marines shipped a couple of combat medics, and one of Tanager’s ratings also qualified as an emergency medic, but no one staffed the infirmary.

“The plan makes me uneasy,” Inga said, walking slowly around the suspension cot as Saef settled in. He thrust his sword into one of the empty storage compartments, his pistol belt into another, his actions displaying more certainty than he felt.

Your plan, Maru,” he replied, smiling thinly. “Trust me, I never expected to enter my first combat mission in a coma. It is a—a singularly unpleasant feeling, but you’re right, it gets us past the hurdles, hopefully into the station.”

“I…I do not think Bess would approve.” Inga flashed her brilliant smile a moment before it faltered.

Saef stared into Inga’s blue eyes under the fringe of her blond hair. For just an instant he felt a link to something half-remembered, something ineffable. Inga looked away.

Saef loosened his collar and cuffs, finding the Deep Man within a breath. “This is ‘subtlety and the silent hand,’ almost by def—”

Inga put a hand on Saef’s arm. “Don’t,” she almost whispered. “Don’t quote Devlin right now.”

Saef fell silent, staring at Inga’s averted eyes. “Roush is on the bridge,” Inga said, still looking away.

Saef nodded slowly. He patted a pocket and drew out the note he had painstakingly composed using archaic calligraphy tools. There would be no record of this communication for the Admiralty to harp about. He passed it to Inga and settled back, thrusting his arm into the techmedico cuff.

Inga secreted the note within her cloak before turning to the techmedico’s manual controls, preparing the injections. “It will take time for you to recover from this, if something should go amiss.”

“I’ve got faith in you, Maru,” Saef said lightly. “You do a splendid job of keeping my hide intact.”

Inga returned no response and the moment stretched into silence.

“Do you…do you remember when we first met?” Inga asked at last, her attention fixed on the techmedico’s screen and face averted.

Saef glanced sidelong at her profile, then turned back to stare at the ceiling. “Years ago? Yes. Somewhat.”

Inga pressed the final key, chemicals released, flowing cold into Saef’s veins. “I remember it like it was yesterday.”

“Do you?” Saef said, feeling the chemical ice crawling through his arm into his chest, wrapping around his throat and jaw.

“Even then…as a young boy, you were so serious, so solemn.” Inga’s eyelashes covered her eyes as she monitored the techmedico. “You were so concerned for us. You…you carried my bag, do you remember?”

Saef felt his mouth slowly move, hearing the words in his own voice. “I remember.” The ice filled him, his eyes falling shut.

From far away Inga’s voice continued in its uncharacteristic whisper.

“Do you? To the port…leaving Battersea…leaving that bastard, but so afraid. So afraid. And you wept for me.”

Saef swam in darkness now, his voice gone, his limbs distant, icy abstractions.

Inga’s voice slid into the darkness with him, perhaps a dream, whispering around him. “I will never forget,” her words murmured, “you wept for me. You wept, and I loved you for it.”


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