Dawn
22 Jan 2017Rebecca Hail
- Planet Way, Wyrd, September 3302The pitch black Federal Corvette shot with a red hot hull and a thunderous sound through the cloudy sky towards the mountain range on the horizon. The symmetric lines of buildings embedded into the side of the mountains could be seen, even from this distance. Two wings of eagles and several atmospheric planes moved on differents height between the mountains and the Corvette.
“Northpoint Station flight control, this is the FNV Angel of the End. Requesting landing permission. Over.”
“FNV Angel of the End, landing permission granted. Stay on your assigned fly path, we have an ongoing maneuver, ordnance is in the air. Your assigned pad is Pad 13 in Section C, level 6. Transmitting flight vector now. Over.”
“Roger, flight control, receiving vector. Changing course to assigned flight path. Out.”
The blue frames of the assigned flight path appeared on the windshield of the Corvette and Rebecca slightly corrected the angle of descend.
Northpoint Station was an essential keypoint for dozens of military operations and campaigns all over the bubble. It was a massive, sprawling complex the size of a large metropolis.
The facility itself was hundreds of years old. Initially founded as a sector supply depot, its high gravity made it an ideal place to train ground troops. As time went on and Wyrd became an important system, its functions were upgraded to include sector-wide logistical coordination as well as offices for covert operations. So extensive was the facility that even entire mountain ranges were hollowed out, their natural fortification sheltering the Federal military complex.
Snow raised and little rocks flew through the air as the Corvette slowly lowered itself onto the pad. The Corvette touched down in the exact moment the sun disappeared behind the horizon and darkness fell upon the complex. The ship’s thrusters faded to dark as the engine whine diminished. Soon after, the entry ramp lowered, a black-uniformed federal agent descended, one heel clicking in front of the other.
Rebecca surveyed at her surroundings and shivered. The mountain air was cold, too cold for a standard federal service uniform. Her breath formed clouds in front of her mouth as she looked around for the people who should have been there. Almost immediately, the blast doors of the flight control tower opened, the machinery grinding in the cold. A few people stood inside. One woman stepped forward, red hair in a tight bun. She looked at Rebecca stiffly for a moment before speaking.
“Agent Hail.”
Rebecca turned around. A mountain breeze blew a few blond hairs into her mouth. Resisting the old habit of standing at attention, she brushed the strands away and nodded.
Yvette Smith. My partner in failure.
“Assistant Director Smith.”
“New assignment?”
“That’s confidential.”
The red-haired woman regarded her coolly. “So are the results of your last mission. Fortunately for you.”
Rebecca paused, scowling at the memory of her time with Stryker. “That's the problem with those damn provincials. Don't know where their loyalty should be.”
Yvette was opening her mouth to retort when her communicator chirped. She looked down at it and frowned.
“Well, let's hope that you can convince the overseer. We’re wanted in his office. Now.”
Rebecca looked away, not wanting for Yvette to see her eyes closed in worry.
It's just a meeting. Even if you're in trouble, you can just walk away. Remember that.
“Right. Let's not keep him waiting.”
She turned back to the blast doors and went on her way over the ice cold pad as snow began to fall.
A short walk later, both women stood in a dimly-lit executive office. On the other side of the table was the bald overseer, wearing a crisp military uniform over his body and a tight, unsmiling mouth on his face. Yvette and Rebecca both saluted immediately. The overseer picked up the tablet in front of him and opened a file, not bothering to return the salute.
“The Black Omega operation was a disaster. A failed mole, a disclosed location of a secret facility, an alerted observation target and the successful escape of said mole. What do you two have to say in your defence?”
Yvette spoke up first.
“I cleared him for the operation. I have no excuse for my poor judgement. As assistant director of the paramilitaric branch, I should’ve known better.”
Rebecca stared at Yvette. Then she followed, choosing her words carefully as she turned back to the overseer.
“I recommended him for the operation and didn’t notice his betrayal until it was too late. I, too, have no excuse for my failure.”
He slowly stood up, laying his hands palms-down on the table.
“Is this really the best the paramilitaric branch has to offer?”
Neither woman said anything to the rhetorical question.
“When a simple recruitment mission is in the hands of an assistant director and an ultrablack agent, I expect results. Much better results!”
Again, neither woman dared to speak.
“You two knew what was at the stake with this operation. You knew the consequences of failure. Yet here we are: no informant, no intel, and that De Verre bastard’s fingers picking our ass!”
He sat back down, his breath a long, ragged exhale.
“Do you have any idea how the other branches are struggling to cope with this? We’ve had to slash our operations in the sector just to avoid having the rest of our agents exposed. Black Omega is poised to take entire systems away from the Federation, and what do you do? Choke like a pair of rookies.”
Yvette and Rebecca remained both silent. This wasn’t the time to disrupt the overseer and doing so would mean very uncomfortable consequences for both. He sighed and tapped several times onto the display of his tablet, then he looked up again.
“Yvette Smith, Codename Red Summer. You are hereby demoted to operation leader and will be transferred from Sol. You’ll receive your new assignment later.”
“Yes, Sir.” Yvette saluted and took a step back.
“Rebecca Hail, Codename Icy Summer. Your performance has gone from flawless to highly compromised. Why?”
Rebecca hesitated. If she told him about Ria, she and her family would be in severe danger. If not she’d never get the information she’d worked for so long. Her voice trembled a bit as she spoke up.
“Sir, I can’t do this anymore. I want out.”
Now Yvette stared with a surprised expression at Rebecca. Even the overseer looked up with a slightly surprised look, but immediately reverted to his usual poker face.
“Come again?”
“I want out, sir.”
It didn’t take her ocular implants for her to notice the slight tremble in the overseer’s face.
“Out?” he asked quietly. “What do you mean ‘out’?”
Rebecca took a deep breath and forced herself to think of Ria. Her heart was pounding hard under her chest, but she maintained her composure and returned the overseer’s hard gaze.
“Out. Out of the auxiliary, out of the agency, out of Federal service. My contract has a termination clause. I’m activating it.”
The man’s mouth tightened and a long, uncomfortable moment passed before he replied, danger creeping into his tone.
“It isn’t that simple. You’re a valuable asset to our organization. And you know way too much.”
Rebecca’s face hardened at the implied threat. “I’m aware of the usual precautionary measures, sir.”
The man met her gaze and set down his pen. “You’re never going to see your brother or your sister again. You won’t be allowed to leave Federal space. You’ll be under constant surveillance. Your assets will be frozen and your ships will be confiscated. The military functions of your implants will be disabled. Are you aware of that?”
Rebecca reached into the pocket of her service jacket and produced a small storage stick for classified data. She put it on the table and slid it over to the overseer. It stopped skidding a few inches away from the edge.
“Aware enough. This is my official resignation.”
The overseer picked the stick up from the table and looked at her again.
“Ms. Hail, please wait outside. Ms. Smith, please close the door behind her.”
Out of habit, Rebecca saluted as she turned to leave. Her heels clicked away from the man’s desk until the door slid shut.
Pausing for a moment to let the door seal, Yvette turned around.
“You’re not really letting her go, are you?”
The man took a deep breath, rubbing his temples and shutting his eyes. “I am.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s better to have an inactive agent than a rogue agent. ”
Yvette’s eyes flashed, her impatience showing. ”You can’t just walk away from the FIS! She must be made an example of.”
“An example to whom? Almost no one outside this room even knows who she is. And even with her implants disabled, she could compromise us. Disappear, sell her services, even defect to the Empire if we gave her a reason to distrust us.”
A defeated look spread across her face. “So you’ll accept the resignation.”
“Yes. This is the only life she’s ever known. For all her competence as a field agent, she’s a babe in the woods when it comes to walking her own path. She’ll be back. It’s only a matter of time.”
He began absentmindedly spinning his touchpen, his eyes deepening in thought. Yvette pursed her lips and decided to risk one more question.
“Sir, has she been carrying out unofficial assignments for the President, too?”
The pen stopped spinning and the overseer looked coldly into her eyes.
“Was one demotion for the day not enough, Ms. Smith?”
The snow didn’t stop falling through the night and most of the base was covered with a heavy layer of white in the next morning. Rebecca stood alone on the large pad, her duffle bag hanging from her shoulder and the whine of hydraulics in her ears. Very slowly, the elevator brought the massive black Anaconda up from the storage hangars deep in the mountain. Unlike the Angel, the Dark Runner was her sole property.
Above the whine of the hydraulics, Rebecca heard an opening bay door. Yvette stepped out of the tower, holding a data pad in her right hand.
“Here are the details of your new identity. You can keep the name. There seem to be quite a few Rebecca Hails in the Federation.”
She extended the arm with the data pad towards Rebecca, who hesitated a moment before she took it. The blond-haired woman scanned her new cover story, her eyes lifting.
“Uh- thanks, I guess. Aren’t you assigned to a new post?”
“That’s confidential.”
Rebecca smiled slightly, amused at hearing her own answer from before thrown back at her. “Right. Sorry.”
A smile appeared for a fraction of a second on Yvettes face.
“Federal embassy, Cubeo. I’ll be the Federal liaison to Aisling’s Angels. Not exactly my dream assignment, but it could’ve been worse.”
“True. At least you’ll be dealing with the abolitionist Imps.”
Yvette nodded, and peered at the blond-haired woman curiously. “And what about you? What does a Federal agent do when she’s neither a Fed nor an agent?”
Rebecca’s smile widened almost imperceptibly. “Just be a civilian, I guess. There’s a house waiting for me planetside. It’s a ways away, but a little seclusion never hurt anyone.”
“How did you get a house that fast?”
“Apparently there are a lot of old unused safe houses spread throughout the galaxy. Some in big cities and some in smaller towns. This one is in a town in the middle of nowhere. It's almost inaccessible by land, and has a secret hangar in the woods, too. Ideal to park the Dark Runner. I guess I won’t be flying her again for a while after this. It helps if the FIS wants you to keep its secrets.”
The now-former agent lifted the holopad and pointed to it. “And I just “inherited” it from a deceased uncle. Deed and property in my name. It says so right here. Too bad it’s filled with hidden surveillance gear, huh?”
Yvette’s eyebrows raised. “So even after you quit, you're still under their thumb?”
Rebecca smiled grimly, knowing that truly normal life was impossible. “All part of the deal. They don't want their little experiment getting away from them. But it’ll be peaceful there. And quiet. I’m due for both.”
She turned around to the boarding ramp and took a few steps towards it, then she turned around again.
“Good bye, Yvette. Good luck at your new assignment,” she said while waving.
Yvette hesitated for a moment, torn between telling her what she knew and just keeping her mouth shut.
“Rebecca?”
“Yeah?”
Yvette looked down at the launch pad, and then back up to her friend. “I hope you’ll live a good life wherever you’re going. I mean it.”
Rebecca’s smile remained, even as a hint of pain crossed her eyes. “Me, too.”
Yvette waved, then she turned around and walked back through the cold and snow towards the door of the control tower. Rebecca took a moment to watch her leave, punching the ramp controls and feeling the stillness as the wind was cut off. With a sigh, she turned and started to make her way to the ship’s bridge. It would be a long journey to her new home. Her final words to Yvette kept echoing in her head.
Me too, Yvette. Me too.
New Caswell. Population seven hundred twenty eight. Isolated. Fishing economy. Bare-bones Gal-Net access. Trapped between the forested foothills of a mountain range barely worth the word and the ocean of…
Rebecca looked down at her display.
19 Phi-2 Ceti AB 2. Quite a mouthful to say.
The coastline followed the natural course of the continent and looked a little like a snake from above. The planet's inhabitants made their life mostly from breeding fish and working with wood, making crafts and furniture in the old style. The nearest starport was almost three hundred clicks away, so delivery ships often landed outside New Caswell even if it wasn’t technically allowed.
Rebecca still tried to get in with her Anaconda as sneakily as possible to avoid attracting attention. It turned out that the hangar which belonged to the old safe house was over fifteen kilometres away from the town and built into a cliff at the foot of the mountains.
An old road led through the forest to the town but it hadn’t been maintained in years. Surprisingly enough, the systems of the hangar were still intact. She transmitted the access codes, the heavy doors sliding to the side into the cliff and a pad appearing out of the natural cavern in which the ship would be stored.
Cautiously, Rebecca left the hangar through a smaller door and stepped onto an old walkway. She felt the moist air on her face and saw the ocean glitter in the distance through the trees, together with some of the old buildings of the town below.
At least it's a hell of a view.
Turning to the garage, she pressed her palm against the access lock and waited for the heavy doors to cycle and open. The automatic lights flickered on, and-
Damnit.
There, on the garage floor, was the disassembled carcass of what used to be a Space Reconnaissance Vehicle. It was stripped down to its raw frame, odd gears and electronics exposed, with the only tires still on it in flat, sad shape. Clearly, it had been condemned as a parts vehicle, and abandoned the same time the rest of the safehouse was. Rebecca chuckled bitterly to herself in the musty garage air.
So much for a ride into town.
Quickly, she went back to her ship, changing from her pilot's suit into clothes more suited for hiking. It would be awkward, a strange blond woman appearing from nowhere with a duffle bag and a key to the empty house. She would need to buy a suitable land vehicle if she wanted to make any kind of life here, and credits had a way of overcoming questions that curious locals might ask.
Frowning, she looked down at the overgrown way. Only a small path was left of it. She turned around to look how the huge doors of the hangar slowly closed and hid the Dark Runner in the cliff.
She turned her gaze to the town again, then to the sun which stood bright in the sky.
I guess it’s time to start over again, she thought. If she hurried, she’d make it into town before businesses closed. And then- what, exactly?
Rebecca frowned as she pocketed the credits from the duffle bag and started hiking towards the town.
Whatever it is that civvies do all day.
Civilian. The word kept repeating itself in her head. For the first time in years, Rebecca Hail had literally nothing to do. No assignments. No place to be. No dangerous missions to complete. No need to watch her back. Just… spare time. To socialize. Sit at a tavern and drink a beer. Make small talk. Civilians did all that, right?
She looked down, noting how odd it felt to be wearing loose clothing with no patches on it. Compared to a uniform, it felt sloppy. At least she looked the part. Brushing some of the blond hair from her eyes, the former Federal agent trudged down the ill-maintained path, her new identity repeating itself in her head:
Rebecca Hail, 27, civilian.