“We have to trust our cover story and our orders,” Christian—Lead—says, walking beside me across a small cargo bay filled with nondescript crates.
“I don’t like being kept in the dark,” I say.
“Then you’re in the wrong line of work.”
I shake my head. “I just think we should know what it is we’re planting. What if something happens and we can’t place it exactly how they say to. We need to know what it is in order to improvise a new plan.”
Christian peers down at me. The tattoo of a stitch over his left eye gives him a severe look. That, combined with the blood-red hair left long on top, but shaved on the sides, makes him an imposing figure. “We have to accept that we won’t get any more information. Besides, Maz and Tak probably already figured it out.”
The siblings do have a special gift for figuring things out, especially with regards to tech.
“And if we do have to improvise,” the team lead says, “that’s not your problem anyway, Guardian.”
I concede the point with a shrug.
A door slides out of our way, and we enter the ship’s small rec room. Three people stand around a table off in one corner. The siblings are easily identifiable with identical circuitry tattoos up their necks and face. The sister’s hair is dyed black on top, with white braids down the side of her head and woven together behind. The brother’s blonde hair is cropped short. The third man is bald, but with a massive brown beard.
On the table between them is a fist-sized silver metal orb.
“I’m telling you, it’s a hacking device to get into the comms,” the brother, Maz—Nerd—says.
Tye—Breach—draws a knife from his hip and prods at the device.
Tak—Hellfire—is the first to notice us enter. “Fahr!” she says. “Do you have any old-man wisdom you can offer us in this dilemma?”
“It just looks like a giant chrome pill to me,” I respond.
“What about you, Lead?” she asks.
“It doesn’t matter,” Christian says. “Where are the others?”
Tye, now scraping the blade of his knife across the device, is the one to answer. “Pretty sure Farl was napping and Dij was going to prank him somehow.”
Christian shakes his head. “We’re almost to Rues, get your AI hooked up. I’ll get the others.” He crosses the room and out another door that slides open for him.
The rest of us fish our headsets out of where we store them. Mine is in a pocket on my right pant leg. After securing the earpieces in their places, I grab the tape-like chip dangling from the extra strap. I press the tape to the back of my head.
My mind blanks. Then everything returns.
Afternoon, a soft male voice says in my ear.
Afternoon, Leep, I think.
Inventory taken. You seem to be in excellent health today. The others are approaching, I will leave you to your meeting.
The door Christian disappeared through slides open again and he walks out, followed by the last two members of our team. Dij—Bullet Bait, or BB—has one side of his head shaved with a tattoo across that bare skin. The art is similar to Maz’s and Tak’s, but with numbers and weapons from various ages mixed with the circuitry. He also has a new addition to his appearance: a black eye. Farl—Hammer & Nail, or Ham—is the only normal looking person on our team—me having low and wide double-mohawks—with no visible tattoos and his brown hair buzzed. He is massaging his knuckles on his right hand.
“Figured it out yet?” Dij’s voice sounds in my ear, though his lips don’t move.
“Not yet,” Tye responds out loud. He has stowed his knife, and is moving the chrome pill around with one hand.
“And why are you the one trying?” Dij asks.
“I have a theory.”
“Whatever it is,” Christian cuts in, “we are to plant it silently. If FarCom finds out we were there, then the Phantom will soon know as well and our mission is wasted. Are we clear?”
“Don’t blow shit up, got it,” Tye says, turning the pill over in his hand.
“Exactly,” Christian says. “Which means we will be relying on Nerd today. Get us in quick and silent.”
“Always,” Maz says.
“Arm up, we’ll be there in minutes.”
Six of us, Tye staying put, move toward yet another door out of the door. I only make it three steps before Tye cheers.
The chrome pill in his hand is now only half a pill. The cross section reveals two compartments, both of which seem to just be a tangle of wires.
“Hell yeah,” Maz says, sliding back over to the table and taking the device from Tye.
“Are you sure I can’t blow anything up?” Tye asks Christian, not even trying to conceal the excitement he is feeling now. That can only mean one thing.
“It’s a bomb, isn’t it?” Christian asks.
“Not just any bomb. A nano-bomb. At least in part, I’m not sure what else it’s supposed to do.”
“That I can answer,” Maz says, setting the pill down. “I was right, it’s going to hack in.”
“Then hack in it will do, and no doubt be detonated at a later date. Sorry, Breach,” Christian says.
The corner of Tye’s mouth retreats in disappointment, but he shrugs it off and snatches the device off the table. The outer shell extends, creating a complete pill again. “As the demolitions expert, I’m going to just hold onto this for the mission,” he says.
“Whatever. Arm up,” Christian orders again.
As we file out of the rec room and into the bunk room that is currently serving as our armory, I exchange a glance with the team lead. So, we’re hacking into a comm’s array known to be piggybacked by the Phantom and rigging it to explode. That makes sense. The only question now is when they intend to detonate it. What does the Big Man have planned?
Christian shakes his head as an answer to my unasked question.
Inside of our temporary armory, we split off to where our individual equipment is arranged. Apart from the headsets already on, the only gear most of us were allowed for this mission was our weapons, Nerd’s custom tablet being the only exception. We weren’t allowed armor or even our usual uniforms, only street clothes. They are serious about making sure the Phantom doesn’t find out we were here.
My equipment, laid out on one of the bunks, consists of two weapons and extra magazines for each. A SH-29 DMOTER, complete with scope and bipod, and a shorter SM-90 PDW. I hang the SM-90 on my front and swing the DMOTER onto my back. The extra magazines I fit into the cargo pockets on the pants I’m wearing.
Fourty-eight rounds of .323SR and one-hundred rounds of .22SP ammunition, Leep says in my head. That’s a lot of ammo for a mission you hopefully won’t be shooting during. Better to be prepared, I know.
Better to be prepared, I think.
I turn around and watch the rest of my team finish gearing up.
Lead has only a single weapon, his SH-19 UMBRA painted as red as his hair. Breach has a backpack of explosives, and he doesn’t seem happy that it is smaller than usual. He scratches at his beard with the butt of his ST550 breaching shotgun. Bullet Bait looks small and uncomfortable holding his SH-34 ONYX without the excess armor he usually wears. Ham, while the most normal-appearing of us without our equipment, is the most conspicuous when armed, even without the grenade launchers he is usually equipped with. His UMBRA is scoped, and he has several grenades hanging from a vest. Hellfire, true to her nickname, has an ONYX slung over her back, PDW in front and a pair of SP-83 pistols on her hips. Her brother has his tablet and a single, smaller SP-57 pistol. He doesn’t do much of the killing.
Landing in one minute, Leep says.
“You heard the AI, let’s get to the ramp,” Lead says.
Breach is the first one out the door, the rest following and me bringing up the rear. Back through the rec room, into the cargo bay. The back wall of the bay functions as the ramp of this particular stolen smuggler’s ship. The crates scattered around hold harmless items, such as wiring and foodstuffs, as the people of Rues would expect; the true cargo would be hidden in various stows, if we had any true cargo.
“Landing,” the voice of our pilot says through the speakers and a moment later, the ship rocks as it touches down.
A crack of light appears near the top of the cargo bay’s rear wall, then spreads as the ramp lowers toward the ground. Before it even settles, Breach is on his way out. The rest of us go after him and I slip around to the front, with Lead. My steps get easier as I leave the artificial gravity of the ship.
We aren’t two strides past the ramp, onto the landing field covered with other ships, most nondescript cargo ships no doubt holding secrets, when a group of five armed men approach us. They each hold a different kind of rifle, but all of the weapons are pointed to the ground and tucked to their chests. Rues’ Enforcers.
“Hold,” the lead Enforcer says, raising his left hand, his right still holding onto his rifle. We obey.
“Breach, stand down,” Lead says silently. “Guardian, with me.”
I follow him ahead of the rest of the team before we stop a few paces in front of the Enforcers. They all give me a cursory glance then look to Lead.
“Identify yourselves,” the lead Enforcer says.
“I’m Bagger, this is my crew,” Lead says. The Enforcers show no reaction to the obviously fake name. No doubt everyone on this asteroid went by an alias.
“Wilson,” the lead Enforcer says as his own introduction. “What purpose do you have for coming to Rues? Complete honesty in this area is a rule here. Lie and you will be forced to leave.”
Lead dips his head in acknowledgement of the rule. “We are mediating an arms sale and our client would like us to test the product while we wait for the arranged meeting time.” He touches his UMBRA as he speaks.
Wilson looks the rifle over. “Weapons are tricky here. You must all prove that they are unloaded while within the confines of the outpost. You will be escorted outside of the outpost to a place you can test them. Only then can you load them. Understood?”
“Understood,” Lead says. “Are there any other rules we should be aware of?”
The lead Enforcer gestures to a sign post near the front of the landing field. “Read that as we leave. Which we will do as soon as your tax has cleared and you and your crew all prove that your weapons are unloaded and your ammunition is given to one of my Enforcers.”
Lead pops the magazine out of his UMBRA and clears the chamber. He hands the magazine, plus the extras he stored in his pockets, to Wilson.
I follow his lead, clearing both of my weapons and handing all of my ammunition to one of the other Enforcers. A minute later, the entire team is stripped of their magazines. The Enforcers settle back, watching us while we wait for the tax to clear.
I take the time to scan the landing field. It is surrounded by a thick wood on three sides, the trees much larger than they could naturally grow in the short time they’ve been in existence. On the fourth side, the trees had been cleared for a large, straight road into Rues proper according to the maps; the outpost itself is hidden amongst the trees.
My initial assessment of the field itself was mostly accurate, but there were a couple of exceptions to the nondescript-cargo-ship-rule. The most notable of them must once have been a Union Flight Academy transport ship, but it is almost unrecognizable for the modifications on it. It holds the prestigious spot nearest the entrance to the field.
Wilson touches his ear and nods. “Your tax has gone through. Let’s go.”
The team gathers together and the Enforcers surround us. They escort us toward the end of the landing field, past the modified UFA transport. We pause at the signpost long enough to read through the rules. In addition to the rules on weapons, that you must be clear on your business there and “Everyone pays,” it has something about how conflicts are resolved in Rues and the final rule: “Do not bother the comms array.”
“What’s this about the comm’s array?” Lead asks Wilson.
“If we leave it alone, they leave us alone,” the Enforcer answers. “We don’t exactly want FarCom security to come down here. Or worse, call on the Union.”
“You know that’s a UFA ship, right?” BB asks, pointing at the modified transport.
“Used to be,” Wilson says. “Now it belongs to Raiden. The Union doesn’t know the outpost exists. No government does.” He starts off along the road.
“Anyone know who this Raiden is?” Lead asks without a word.
I don’t, I think back, knowing Leep would transmit the words.
“He’s gotta be some important smuggler, or a guy who runs the place,” Nerd says.
“Right. Do what these Enforcers say and it shouldn’t matter,” Lead says.
It isn’t long before the first of the buildings becomes visible off the road to the right. There is no clear path to the door, but the undergrowth has been worn down. A warehouse of some kind, perhaps for long-term storage of smuggled goods.
Other buildings follow soon after. A couple of hostels, a nicer housing establishment. What could only generously be called a restaurant, a few tables and a grimy open kitchen. None of the buildings have any true paths and are almost lost in the trees. Until we get about halfway through the outpost.
There stands a building much taller than the rest, in the center of a clearing and surrounded by a high fence. The top of the building is a sort of distorted, rotating dish. Inside, out of view, is the terraforming tech that makes the asteroid habitable.
“They wouldn’t treat us like this if they knew we were the reason this place can exist,” Ham says silently, looking at the Enforcers surrounding us.
“Yeah they would,” is Nerd’s wordless reply.
“Stay focused,” Lead says.
We continue on in silence for a minute or two, past what appears to be a mechanic’s shop and another warehouse with a sign on the door that reads “This Market, which is definitely not of the black variety, is closed.” Otherwise it is simply more trees. The terraforming tech must be cranked to high. Or its speed is why it was abandoned after testing.
Finally, Wilson breaks the silence. “How long do you intend to stay here?” he asks.
“A few hours, then we must head to the exchange,” Lead says.
“Who are your clients?” Wilson asks.
“Our openness only goes so far.”
Wilson shrugs. Had we given an answer, we probably would have destroyed our credibility. Smugglers and criminals have their own code, one I’m sure is not so different from ours.
“Where is this place we can do our testing?” Lead asks after another extended pause.
“Past the outpost, past the trees. Somewhere out of sight of Rues, but close enough that the air is still breathable.”
Our intel told us as much. It also told us that it was exactly the place we needed to be. But better to appear not too knowledgeable about a place we’ve never been.
Straight down the only road we continue. Laughter and music soon fill the air, growing louder as we walk. Off to our left, a pub spills out into the woods. Tables of men and women in no recognizable order, are scattered about inside and out. Drinks are being sloshed about, games being played. Shouts and slurs and curses are thrown about by the rowdy crowd.
We keep moving right past it.
“That’s a DMOTER,” a voice says from just behind us, stopping me short. The others do the same. Lead sends me a quick, almost panicked look, then I turn around.
A middle-aged man stands at the edge of the road, staring at the rifle on my back. He is tall, almost as tall as Lead. His neatly trimmed black beard and hair are speckled with gray. A crooked, mostly likely drunk, smile twists his face. There is nothing at all special about him, except for the pistol at his side.
His eyes drift to the PDW hanging at my front. Then they move to Lead’s UMBRA. Then around the rest of the team, before settling on my headset. His smile fades.
Breach takes a half-step toward the nearest Enforcer before Lead silently orders him down.
The man turns around, to another, smaller man behind him. “Get the others, load up the ship. We’re leaving,” he says and they both hurry off, him toward the landing field, the shorter man back to the pub.
All of the Enforcers move at once, stepping away and shouldering their weapons. One points straight at my chest.
BB, hold, I think, noticing the man tensing to attack. I’ve got this. I lift my hands and look to Wilson, who is circling around to me.
“What was that about?” the Enforcer demanded.
“I have no idea,” I say.
“What is a DMOTER?”
I touch the barrel of the rifle. “That’s what this weapon is called. I don’t know why he would react to it in that way.”
“Raiden always has a reason.”
Lead swore silently. “Still no ideas on who he is?”
“I assure you,” I say, keeping calm, “I have no idea. It is no common rifle to be sure, but nothing that should make him run off.”
Lead’s voice speaks again in my ear: “Everyone be ready. If this Raiden knows us, we may need to take him down.”
There is a change in the team only perceptible to one who has worked with them for years. The Enforcers are oblivious to the slight changes in stance.
“It was not all he looked at. Who are you?” Wilson asks.
Breach runs a hand down his shotgun. An Enforcer snaps aim to him.
“We are mediators in an advanced arms sale,” I say. “All of these weapons are a step above your typical firearms. Our clients are dangerous people. Perhaps Raiden recognized that. But I can assure you, we are here simply to test these weapons to prove that they are what they are said to be. We will be gone in a couple of hours.”
Halt Raiden, Leep says, finishing a search of our records. Known smuggler. No known association with the Phantom.
“Thank God,” Lead says. “We will not blow cover for him.”
Wilson studies me, then moves around to Lead. “I am watching you closely. If any of you tries anything, I will put you all down. Understood?”
“Understood,” Lead says aloud.
“We will stay and observe your testing,” Wilson says.
Well that isn’t going to work.
“We would rather not have an audience,” Lead says.
Wilson looks us over. “We are not going to allow armed strangers to be unsupervised so near our outpost.”
“Our clients would prefer to keep these weapons and their abilities as discreet as possible. A preference strong enough that they would not complain if the tax went up. Up enough that a sizable amount found its way into each of your pockets.”
A long moment passes, the Enforcer rubbing the side of his rifle. The war between suspicion and greed plays out of his face.
“See that the increased tax is paid,” Wilson says. “We’ll be keeping your ammunition until that time.”
Lead dips his head. “Thank you. It will be paid.”
The Enforcers lower their weapons, but keep their extra distance. Their eyes don’t wander from us as we start moving up the road again. Not a word passes between any of us, spoken or otherwise, as we leave the cover of the trees. The uneven, cratered surface of the asteroid appears more natural here, but for the knee-high grass that covers it; the road ends with the trees and there is no flattening or shaping of the land by human hands. Even the grass ends after a hundred yards.
We climb a hill and drop into a crater. Up the other side and down into a larger one. As we ascend the other side of that depression, a giant satellite dish seems to sprout from the top of the next hill, growing as we climb. Beneath the dish, a small building, a few hundred feet square, becomes visible. As we crest the rise, the base of the building is revealed for a second before we descend again; the front of the array is screened by a chain link fence topped by razor wire, one visible entrance, but there wasn’t enough time to see how many guards there are. There was, however, enough time to see that the shadows cast by the hills stopped a good twenty yards from the array.
Wilson angles us away from the array as we start to come out of the next crater. It comes back into view over our shoulders.
“Is that the comms array we’re not supposed to bother?” Breach asks.
“It is. Steer clear,” Wilson says.
“Oh, for sure.”
Nerd manages to turn his snort of laughter into a cough that goes unmarked by the Enforcers.
This hill drops into the largest crater yet by far. The bottom is nearly flat and stretches out in a rough circle about a hundred and fifty yards in diameter. I don’t need Wilson’s comment of “this is it” to know that we have reached the testing ground. On the opposite end of the crater, destroyed pieces of crates and dented targets litter the ground. Off to one side, the dark gray rock that forms the ground is blackened and covered debris, no doubt from tested explosives.
“You can test your weapons here. As soon as that extra tax is paid,” Wilson says.
“It has been,” says Lead.
The Enforcer Lead’s eyes narrow and he reaches into a pocket. He pulls out an electronic device and fiddles with it for a moment before nodding. “Alright, not sure how you did it, but that more than covers it. Enjoy testing your weapons.” He and the other Enforcers return our ammo to us.
“Steer clear of the array,” Wilson says again, then waves the Enforcers back toward the outpost. In a minute, our team is alone in the large crater.
“Let’s put a few rounds into those targets,” Lead says. “When the AIs say we’re clear, then we’ll move.”
You can see them? I ask.
The criminals seem to value security, they have many cameras around. But they don’t seem to put as much emphasis on the security of the networks of those cameras, Leep says.
I load a magazine into my DMOTER and line up the scope on a target at the other end of the crater, a metal disk hanging from a frame. The rifle rocks against my shoulder, its sound deadened by my earpieces, and the metal disk whips around its anchor in a complete circle.
“Think they can hear this from the outpost?” I ask.
They can, Leep says.
“That’ll be part of your job then, Guardian,” Lead tells me, “to put some rounds into the targets now and then to throw off suspicion.”
“Roger,” I say.
Several minutes pass, with each of us putting several rounds into the targets, before Leep finally says, They’re back, you’re good to go.
“Let’s do this,” Lead says. “Glasses on. We’ll get as close as we can shadow-cloaked.”
I fish a pair of dark glasses out of my pocket and don them. The others do the same. Each person also loads a new magazine into their weapons.
“See you on the other side, Guardian,” Lead says. “Fall in!”
The team forms a line, BB first, followed by Hellfire, then Nerd, Lead, Breach and finally Ham. They climb out of the crater, toward the array, and drop into the next crater.
I follow them to the rim, where the entire array is visible and let them go on from there. There is one more small crater between me and the building, then the array itself is in a large, flat area. The entrance faces me, three guards posted, two at the gate in the fence, one at the door into the building. Our briefing said there was another entrance, nano-sealed, on the back side. That is where my team would be going.
Now they are crossing the small crater, hugging one of the walls, deep in shadow.
“Activate cloak,” Lead says.
The shadows seem to pull over the six of them like a blanket, and they vanish from view. A moment later, their outlines appear blue in my glasses, slinking across the crater.
I lie down prone, popping the bipod legs out and resting my DMOTER on the ground. I set the PDW beside me.
The team summits the crater. They dart through the sun one at a time when the guards aren’t looking. In a minute they are back in the shadows and out of view on the other side. Now nothing stands between them and the array except for a band of light.
Leaving my DMOTER in place, I grab the PDW and inch down the hill, out of sight of the array. I put five rounds into the targets. Then I crawl back up to my rifle and peer through the scope again.
The guards are now gazing in my direction, away from my team sneaking around to the back of the building.
After a few more moments, the guards return to their conversation, apparently not seeing me.
“One at a time, move fast and low,” Lead says. The team is in line with the back corner of the building, the closest they can get with any shadow coverage.
BB’s blue outline darts forward, then disappears behind the array. Hellfire makes a gesture at her brother, probably in response to some silent tease he made, then races after BB.
The guards got a transmission, I couldn’t read it, Leep says.
“Guardian, keep an eye on them,” Lead says.
The two guards at the fence pause in their conversation for a few moments, then return to it. The one at the door pulls it open and steps inside.
One guard went in, the other two are not any more alert, I think.
“Copy,” Lead responds. “Moving.”
Nerd hurries after his sister and his outline disappears behind the array. Lead is moments behind him. Breach barely waits his turn before following. Finally, with Ham joining them, they are all out of my sight.
“Nerd, get to work,” Lead says.
“On it.” A second later, a humming comes through my earpiece. Some new hit song from Gramen the kid is humming silently and making his AI transmit.
The transmission came from a ship nearby, still decoding, Leep says.
“I don’t suppose you could pick a faster song to type to?” Breach asks, initiating their lighthearted fight earlier into the mission than usual. Most of the time they wait until the stakes are higher and Lead has to shut them down fast.
“Hey, I don’t tell you how to plant bombs,” Nerd responds.
I shuffle back down the slope into the firing range crater.
“You tried to tell me how to defuse one last week,” Breach says.
The word “shrug” audibly sounds in Nerd’s voice.
I put my PDW to my shoulder.
“Almost got us killed,” Breach continues.
“I didn’t tell you to stop defusing.”
“Hard to defuse a bomb and punch you at the same time.”
“Hard to punch you and hack,” Nerd says.
“You can punch?”
I place my finger on the trigger.
Wait, Leep says.
“I’m in,” Nerd says.
The ship the signal came from is UDS.
“Hold!” Lead orders.
I pull my finger off the trigger of my PDW.
I still haven’t decoded the message, but the ship is on a course for the array.
I spin around and crawl back to the top of the ridge. I don’t need the scope of my DMOTER to see the six guards exiting the array. They join the two already outside and all eight exit through the chain link fence. They spread out around a large, flat stretch of rock a few yards away.
“What do you see, Guardian?” Lead asks.
I tell him.
There’s a long pause. The guards finish circling and face out, one tapping his foot and looking up. “Breach?” Lead finally asks.
“No sign of explosives around the door, they trusted their nano-seal,” the demolitions expert says.
“Then we’re going in before that ship sees us. Guardian, make sure they don’t catch you on that ridge.”
Copy, I think. After grabbing my DMOTER, I crawl backward into the crater until I can stand without being seen by the guards.
Over the next couple of minutes, Leep informs me that the team enters the building and closes the door behind them, then that they have accessed the server room undetected.
I put a few rounds into the targets with my PDW. The risk of provoking the guards is worth keeping our cover with the Enforcers. They can’t know something is up.
Enforcers moving, Leep says, snuffing my dreams of keeping up the charade.
“Nerd’s hacking in, buy us some time,” Lead says.
The kid’s humming starts up again, the same song as before.
“Seriously, still with the slow song?” Breach asks.
“Breach, shut it down,” Lead says. “Nerd, keep the song to yourself.” The humming stops, leaving me with the dead silence of an asteroid again.
I switch out magazines in my PDW, making sure it is fully loaded. I let it hang behind me, my DMOTER hanging in front.
The Enforcers have left the outpost and are headed our way, there are twenty of them. The UDS ship will not be far behind them, Leep says.
I adjust my glasses. The team is still inside, everyone we’re supposed to keep our mission secret from is about to arrive and I have to save our cover alone. If any time requires fast thinking, this is it.
Wait another minute, I’ll tell you when to move, Leep says as an idea pops into my head.
My feet are light as I pace back and forth, waiting for Leep’s signal. The reduced gravity will give me the advantage on the Enforcers, assuming they live on the asteroid most of the time. The same cannot be said for the UDS team coming in. But if it comes down to a fight, our mission will be blown. An option must be found that keeps mission integrity intact, if at all possible. But never at the cost of our team’s lives.
“Shit,” Nerd says and I freeze in place.
A second of silence drags out before Lead says, “Nerd, what happened?”
“Oh, uh, it’s nothing,” the kid says. “I just may have triggered a self-destruct system. This whole room may blow in a minute.”
————–
Read Part 2 here