Logbook entry

Unexpected Encounter 15

06 Apr 2016Rebecca Hail
"Red Winter calling Icy Summer. Icy Summer, come in."

"This is Icy Summer, reading you loud and clear. Identification code: Hotel-Tango-Zulu-Alpha-Kilo-India fourteen sixtythree ninetyseven, over."

"Code confirmed. Secure connection established. Establishing connection to overseer Enigma. Coordinator, out."

The screen suddenly displayed a picture instead of a static black screen.
The outlines of the bald person on the screen were visible, but face and front were in darkness.

"Icy Summer, update me."

"I crossed the 50 Kylie mark and I'm closing in on the clients system. No incidents worth mentioning. Spareparts are ready for transfer. We expect the exchange to run smoothly."

"Has the client tried to establish contact?"

"No, Sir. Every contacting is coordinated by the responsible dispatch on Wollheim Vision."

"Understood. Here are the details on this mission. Listen carefully."

He made a little pause to make sure he had her attention.

"This is a long range search and recovery operation. Security classification ultra blue. Your target is this."

The picture on the monitor changed.
A reinforced cargo canister with several biohazard signs, stood surrounded by heavy armed men in a loading bay. None of the men had any insignias on their black gear and the only symbol referring to an organization were four yellow letters on the protection plates of the canister: INRA.

"You don't need to know who took those pictures or where they were taken. The only thing I can tell you is that they're from almost fifty years ago. Your mission is to recover two of those canisters from a wreck out there, then you make sure that noone else can recover anything else from this wreck. You have the device issued for that task already onboard. The client has the info on the location and the details. He didn't send those for security reasons, before he managed it to fry his fuelscoop."

"Biological weapons, Sir?" the blonde woman asked the eclipsed man on the screen.

"You don't need to know. Just don't open those containers if you find them."

"Yes, Sir." Her eyes wandered through the communications room, avoiding direct eye contact.

"Is anything the matter, Icy Summer?"

She remained silent for a few seconds.

"Actually ... yes, Sir. I don't understand why I was picked for this mission. I'm not exactly a recovery specialist and my missions had always a more ... offensive nature."

"Normally I don't explain why certain agents are picked for certain missions. Consider this a one time exception to rebuild trust between command and operator.

First point: you have completed every assigned mission with a satisfying result.

Second point: you served in the main unit of the Ares Company. One of the very few who survived the annihilation of the company. Although independent on the outside, Ares was an important external for our service and we monitor every surviving member very carefully.

Third point: You're a official registered and kind of well-known fuel rat. That's a ideal cover to start such a long range operation without attracting too much attention from the alliance and the empire. Especially when it's a official fuel rats rescue. Noone will suspect a operation of the secret service behind this and those who do are feared to speak up since your organization is extremely popular and well respected by almost every major organization in human space.

Fourth point: Absolute loyality is required for this assignment. The reward and my means of pressure ensure your absolutely loyality."

"A mean of pressure, Sir?"

"Yes, Icy Summer."

The picture on the screen changed and the look on her face changed, too. Into confusion.

"Sir, I'm not sure why you think that th ..." The picture changed again, before she could finish her sentence.

She took a moment to recognize what was on the picture, then her expression switched from confusion over genuine surprise to unbelief. Emotions which were well hidden for more than a decade began to stir up and she was slowly losing the cool and uncaring front she built up over a long time.

"W-What?" Her voice shook and he could see how the picture made her insecure, "How?".

"We have our methods." He smiled. The pictures had worked exactly like he intended it, "More information on this is part of your reward. Don't disappoint me. Enigma, out."

The screen went black.

More than fifty thousand lightyears away in the Sol system, somewhere deep below some unimportant outbuilding of the federal headquarter on Mars, Overseer Enigma stood up from his seat. He looked onto the person who had listened to the entire conversation between the Overseer and the operative.

"That's the operative who's furthest out?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Give me a brief summary of her history with us."

"Joined the Ares Company shortly before her 18th birthday after fighting on Ehecatl A7. Got trained under Ares personally as marksman and sharpshooter. Absolved her first operation for us with 19. After this one several more under Ares. She survived the annihilation of the company by the imperial Inquisition and fled off world. She appeared again a year later, when she was accepted into the flight school of the pilots federation. We contacted her and persuaded her to work for us again. She absolved her first mission as a paramilitaric operative while she was still in flight training. Three years ago she got promoted to ultra blue and so far she hasn't failed a single mission."

"What's her speciality?"

"She carried out mostly dirty work for us. Assassinations and the silencing of witnesses for example. But she has partaken in sabotage, hostage rescue, smuggling and personal security, too. She prefers to take out her targets over a long range and avoids direct contact with them. Although there were incidents where she resorted to close combat. Her operations in space are rare since it's not her speciality, the last one was a combined operation of several POs during the war against onionhead on Panem. She piloted one of the fighters, which bombed the onionhead storages and laboratories in the urban areas of Panem."

"Were by any chance some highranked rebel officers in those "storages" and "laboratories"?"

"Yes, Sir."

The person nodded and swiped over his tablet. He stopped at a paragraph in the health section.

"She's a Dark-Zone user? I heard a lot about this drug and the catastrophic failure it was."

"There is a small percentage of people who can endure occasional use. We have strict reglementations to ensure the mental and physical health of our POs and COs and they have to call in for a full medical check after the use of certain enhancing substances."

"And her cover?"

"She's a fuel rat, Sir. One of those pilots, who risk their life to save other pilots. It's actually a pretty good cover for our activities. It provides with a reason to visit federal, imperial and independent systems and the reputation of the organization causes the law keepers often to turn a blind eye on minor violations of the law. As far as we can tell, her cover is still intact."

"I really hope your operative is as good as you claim her to be, Overseer Enigma." He made a little pause. "To much depends on this little operation of yours and I will not accept a failure. For the Federation."

"Yes, President Hudson, Sir. For the Federation."
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