Terran Dawn: Straying from the Flock
01 May 2018Damian "Devil" Blaide
24/04/3304 Azeban City in the Eranin system
Devil was reading the news. It did not look good, the Thargoids were advancing deeper into the bubble and were hitting targets closer and closer to the core systems. He closed the news feed breathing in sharply through his teeth. He was frustrated, it had been too long since he had taken part in the Xeno War – which is what he chose to call the conflict. He had been there during Operation Andronicus, the Liberation of HIP 17692 and the following operation in HR 1185, but since then he had been called away from the front lines by his other duties. And in that time the war – which had until then been contained in the Pleiades – had finally spilt into the bubble and the aliens were now showing a glimpse of their true might leaving a trail of burning starports in their wake.
He reached for his dataslate, tapped open his fleet details and scrolled to display his Fer-de-Lance fighter “Red Horse”. The Horse and he had a bond. No other ship – not even the Aspect – felt the same. When flying the heavy fighter, Devil felt at home. They had faced much and endured much not the least of which were the travails of the Xeno War. But she had become outdated and needed retrofits which were still partially incomplete. Several engineers had tinkered and re-speced the ship to Devil’s specifications but work still remained. A major part of that remaining work was to integrate Guardian technology-based weaponry into the ship. And that would require a trip to the ruins.
Devil had another reason to go there – Edwyrd Raedius was researching something in the ruins currently, and Devil had a bullet with Radius’ name on it. The pressing threat of the Thargoids merely added extra gravity to the situation. And yet, here he was and was not going anywhere anytime soon it seemed.
He closed his dataslate and leaned back on his chair crossing his fingers behind his head. He observed his surroundings. His office space was small, but well-equipped with computers and communications systems that linked with TCF comms hub in Azeban City. Live feeds of sitreps, analyses and projections were fed straight to his terminal. He had also synced his TCF feeds with those of DCC for synergetic benefits and to also keep an eye on ongoing DCC ops. He felt strange he had an “office” again. One with a name plaque that read – ‘Damian Blaide, Commander of the Terran Colonial Forces 315th Squadron’. The 315th offices were located in the complex of the Terran Colonial Forces in Azeban City – tucked away nice and quiet in a sleepy and little trafficked part in a maze of administrative offices and conference halls. The 315th did not make a noise out of themselves and their obscure little space within the TCF main building suited them well. Devil was not sure yet what to make of the “Squadron” he was commanding, as it – like its offices – was small and obscure. The commanders who had been assigned to his outfit seemed capable, but only time would tell whether they could be honed into an effective and independently functioning force of special operatives.
“At least we’re not lacking for things to practice on.” Devil muttered as he opened the latest reports from TCF space. Since their inception, the 315th had been operating around TCF space, gathering intel and creating fires to divert potential threats from targeting TCF interests. And it seemed that every time they solved one problem, another one rose up. This time the worry was Asellus Primus Purple Crew – a criminal organisation in Asellus Primus. Several reports suggested that they were planning something big, and that big something may have been meant for local TCF operations.
Asellus Primus was a difficult system to operate in – it was one of the few systems directly under the control of the “fourth superpower” – the Pilot’s Federation, but their presence also meant that politically, it was an uncommon and even somewhat unpredictable place to be. But trade routes to and from Primus were important for several major trading corporations allied to the Terran Colonial Forces, so at least for now, withdrawing from the system was not an option. And it was precisely these very same trade routes that the Crew were apparently planning to target on a massive scale. Should this come to pass, TCF would have to deploy military forces in the system to defend their shipping and with three recent naval operations already behind them, the TCF fleet was both tired and in dire need of repairs and resupply. Also, war was expensive and the TCF coffers were getting shallow. So, the 315th had taken it upon themselves to see if the Crew’s ambitions could be redirected elsewhere. And as the commander of the 315th, Devil was stuck in TCF space, and his expedition into the ruins had to be postponed. For now.
“Incoming message.” his computer announced.
“Who from?”
“Commander Matthew Horner.”
Devil raised an eyebrow “Doesn’t ring a bell. Who is he?”
“Checking databases. Match found. Horner, Matthew, Pilot’s Federation commander, listed as an affiliated and trusted contractor in Terran Colonial Forces roster. Not formally ranked within Terran Colonial Forces hierarchy. Security clearance Bravo.”
“Display message.”
From: Cmdr Matt Horner
To: @TCF-crashbx
CC: @TCF-315th
Sender Location: LHS 3006 / Leonard Nimoy station
Message Type: Urgent
Sent: 24/04/3304
Subject: Help needed
Commander,
I need your assistance urgently, I hope our recent cooperation grant me a favor from you.
James just contacted me apparently he is in big trouble and I need to find him asap,
I understand you and Cmdr DevilontheWall can help me possibly.
Recently James was kidnapped during his transfer to a prison ship and he must have pulled a dangerous stunt and sent out a distress message I'll patch it through:
Long Range Transmission...
Sender location: UNKNOWN
Vessel of Origin: CLASSIFIED
Forwarded message
Matt, James. Need help. Unknown location, ca. 53 ly from Puppis Sector CQ-Y B1, Class M star, rocky planet around 1200 ls away, near gas giant with one ring. 0.14-0.15G, half the size of our moon. Assuming in Hudson's space. Settlement with no landing pad, probably class ++ or +++. Forward to DevilOnTheWall and general. No time. Hurry! J.
Message ebded
Appreciate your help,
Time is of the essence!
Yours commander Matt Horner
To: @TCF-crashbx
CC: @TCF-315th
Sender Location: LHS 3006 / Leonard Nimoy station
Message Type: Urgent
Sent: 24/04/3304
Subject: Help needed
Commander,
I need your assistance urgently, I hope our recent cooperation grant me a favor from you.
James just contacted me apparently he is in big trouble and I need to find him asap,
I understand you and Cmdr DevilontheWall can help me possibly.
Recently James was kidnapped during his transfer to a prison ship and he must have pulled a dangerous stunt and sent out a distress message I'll patch it through:
Long Range Transmission...
Sender location: UNKNOWN
Vessel of Origin: CLASSIFIED
Forwarded message
Matt, James. Need help. Unknown location, ca. 53 ly from Puppis Sector CQ-Y B1, Class M star, rocky planet around 1200 ls away, near gas giant with one ring. 0.14-0.15G, half the size of our moon. Assuming in Hudson's space. Settlement with no landing pad, probably class ++ or +++. Forward to DevilOnTheWall and general. No time. Hurry! J.
Message ebded
Appreciate your help,
Time is of the essence!
Yours commander Matt Horner
Devil tapped his chin. James Barrett – a former client of DCC – had gotten into trouble then. The man had a propensity for making enemies it seemed. Devil’s first instinct was to dismiss the message. Barrett was not his responsibility – he had the larger interests of the Terran Colonial Forces and their security to deal with and going on a mission to rescue a single commander who was not a formal part of the Terran Colonial Forces seemed at best a wasted – and worst a dangerous – detour. But Devil knew first instincts needed confirmation.
“Open the dossier of commander James Barrett.” He commanded the computer and a file flashed before him in an instant. Reading it he cursed. Barrett had been involved in – and had sensitive information of – several TCF operations that had been conducted in the last couple of months. Leaving him imprisoned in the hands of an unknown party could constitute a security risk.
“Incoming priority call.” The computer alerted him.
“From?”
“Commander Crashbx, General in the Terran Colonial Forces”.
“Well that was fast.” Devil mused “Open the channel.”
Devil’s holoscreen was filled with the tattooed face of the leader of the Terran Colonial Forces’ military. He had off-handedly wondered what the meaning of the General’s tattoos was – they made him look more like a raider than a high-ranking Alliance officer. Perhaps they were religious, or some custom of the General’s home-planet – wherever that was. The General began speaking and snapped Devil out of his musings.
“Did you receive the message from Horner?” Straight to the point. Devil respected that, he had had to deal with too many politicians in his time.
“Yes. This Barrett fellow is in trouble. I checked his dossier. Nothing too compromising, but he is a potential security risk.”
“More to the point, we don’t leave our people behind.”
Devil sighed, he knew what was coming next.
“I want the 315th to get him out.” The General ordered.
“It might be more prudent to neutralise the threat in a more straightforward manner.” Devil tried, though he knew what the answer was going to be.
“No. We don’t kill our people, we get them out if they get into hot water.”
“Barrett is not exactly ‘our people’, is he though?” Last attempt, feeble though it was.
“It doesn’t matter, he has been going out of his way to help the TCF, and we will repay that debt, am I understood?” The General sounded adamant, and there was a finality to his words. Devil relented.
“Very well, I will make this a priority.”
“Excellent.”
After the call with the General ended, Devil sat for a while in thought. Finally, he reached for his comms unit.
“Computer, open a channel to commander Matthew Horner.”
...
25/04/3304 Etain system, in high orbit above Etain 1 b.
“You think that’s where they have him holed up?” Danae Park asked Devil. Park had been surprised when the commander had ordered her to fly as the co-pilot of the Aspect as Devil usually flew his fighters solo.
“Mmm. More than likely.” The commander answered absent mindedly. Park studied her instruments. Shepherd’s Vision was a high security Federal facility on a small moon orbiting the gas giant Etain 1. It was the only facility that fitted the information Barrett had managed to provide. She was about to ask the commander what their next move was, when he suddenly steered the Aspect away from orbit.
“We’re not going to go and have a closer look?” Park asked confused.
“No.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Wouldn’t do any good. The place is a fortress. Besides, if they see a strange ship snooping about they are bound to get restless. We’ll learn more elsewhere.”
“Where?”
“Just over there.” Devil said and locked a destination – Levi-Montalcini City, an outpost orbiting the same gas giant as the moon.
…
Park was getting restless. They had been docked at the outpost for a while now and hadn’t even lowered down into the hangar. The commander had merely opened the missions board and was staring at the variety of contracts available. She had no idea what he was looking for, as he had not accepted a single one. After waiting a minute longer, she swallowed and dared herself to ask.
“Umm…what are you looking at…sir?”
“These missions. Specifically, those offered by the Etain Jet Power Group.” Her boss answered.
“Uhh…OK. Anything good?” She ventured.
“No, just standard contracts, however take a look and tell me what you see.” Devil pressed a few holokeys on his instrument board and the mission board appeared on Park’s holo-viewscreen. She started scanning the contracts. The commander was right, there was nothing outstanding available, only some standard salvage missions and a few bounty hunting contracts. After scanning the board for a while she shook her head.
“No, I don’t see anything out of the ordinary.”
“Take a look at the mission briefs. They keep mentioning the Ross 93 Silver Brothers.”
Park opened a few of the mission briefs and true enough, all of the missions the Power Group was offering somehow targeted the Silver Brothers. She still didn’t quite understand what the commander was trying to get at and shook her head again in puzzlement.
“Yes, that’s true, but I don’t…”
“Shepherd’s Vision is governed and controlled by the Power Group.” Devil explained – surprisingly patiently. Now things started to dawn on Park.
“And as Barrett’s likely being held there…”
“So, whether or not the Power Group have anything to do with Barrett’s capture per se, they most definitely are the ones who are holding him – or under whose sanction he is being detained within their facility.”
“And they apparently have a problem with these Silver Brothers…” Park continued. The commander glanced behind at Park and grinned his wolfish lopsided grin.
“Setting course to Ross 93.”
...
Virts Dock in the Ross 93 system
The Space Bishop’s Arms was a seedy little bar near the docking bays. It was clearly the favourite hangout of local ne’er-do-wells, and Devil and Park had headed there right after Devil had checked the local mission board for the contact details of the representatives of the factions present in the system. Presently they were looking for one Hudson Bates. Pressing through the crowd, Park spotted a tattooed green-haired woman in a purple synth-leather jacket sitting at a table with a couple of goons – bodyguards apparently – standing close by with their arms crossed and shade-covered eyes hawkishly observing their surroundings. Nudging her boss to get his attention Park nodded towards the woman. Devil strode straight towards her without a word and apparently any concern over the two goons, who suddenly became very alert as they saw the black-clad commander approaching. Stopping a few steps from the goons, Devil nodded to the green-haired woman.
“You Hudson?”
“What’s it to you, spacer?” she said softly, her cold eyes glimmering.
“You got something I need.”
The woman laughed a hearty laugh “And what do I care of your needs? Boys, show this gentleman out of here.” She said with a waive of her hand. The two goons grinned and took a step towards Devil and Park, who took a step back. Devil calmly slid his jacket back to reveal his sidearm – a high-powered customised coil-gun slugthrower he called ‘Peacemaker’ – and placed his hand on its handle.
“Easy there. I wouldn’t want to get nasty…” Devil looked at the woman and grinned “…but I will if you force my hand.”
The goons stopped and glanced at their boss. She was watching Devil with renewed interest now, slowly twirling her glass between her fingers. She had apparently also noticed the red wing-insignia on the shoulders of Devil’s flight jacket and nodded towards them.
“Elite Pilot’s Federation, huh?” she asked taking a sip from her glass. Devil merely nodded.
“How about that. You people have a tendency to be useful.” She motioned towards a seat before her. The goons relaxed, and Devil sat down letting go of his sidearm. Park breathed a sigh of relief not realising she had been holding her breath.
“So then Pilot’s Federation. What is it you need from the Silver Brothers?”
“Etain Jet Power Group has a problem with you.”
The woman grinned evilly “Do they now? You here to do something about that?”
“I have a problem with them.”
The woman laughed again “Well, well. Here we are, not a minute into the conversation and we already have common ground. I like you Pilot’s Federation.” She took another sip from her glass and continued “What, then, can the Brothers do for you?”
“I need their comms carrier signal ID.”
The woman rose an eyebrow “That’s an unusual request. Not beyond our capability to deliver, but we are businessmen, so we can’t just give them to you, I’m sure you understand?”
Devil grinned “Never thought you would. So, what is it you need done?”
…
“Here you go.” Hudson said, handing Devil a datachip “One set of carrier signal IDs in exchange for the legwork you did for us. That is appreciated, by the way. Though what you would do with that ID, I have no idea. The Power Group uses Federal encryption and you’d need Federal carrier signal ID protocols to break through them…” she paused and regarded Devil from below her eyebrows “…and those are beyond our capability to acquire.”
“I am aware of this Ms. Hudson, no need to tell me how to do my job.” Devil said dryly, then continued “I have another proposition for you. One that will be mutually profitable, but that will have to wait until a later time. It will, however, hurt our mutual enemy. I will be in touch.”
Hudson laughed “Always happy to do business with you commander.”
Park fell beside her boss as they were walking away.
“So…what exactly did we do here? Aside from helping a pirate faction…”
Devil chuckled at Park’s comment “Park, you need to learn that allies and enemies come in all shapes and sizes. And criminals are actually not the worst people to work with.” He looked at his young co-pilot with an amused smile “They, at least, are straightforwardly honest of who they are and what they do. With ‘legitimate’ politicians, on the other hand, you can never be quite sure that they are not planning to plant a dagger on your back with their left hand while shaking yours with the right one.”
“They’re still…criminals…they slave people and…worse…”
“So do the politicians. If not directly, then indirectly. You might be surprised to know how many Federal or Alliance officials get fat and rich due to slave trade and piracy. To the public they preach of how they will focus on weeding out the scum of the galaxy, how slavery is the pox of civilisation that needs to be eradicated, but in private, they know that they are getting rich because of this scum and villainy.” Devil sighed “The galaxy is a ruthless and merciless place, Park. Idealists get fed to the cannons first. If you plan to live to ripe old age you better learn that.” He paused for a moment and then continued again “As to what we concretely achieved here, we acquired the first of a four-part puzzle we need to build in order to attempt extracting Mr. Barrett. The other two are hopefully being handled by commanders Horner and Goodwin respectively, but to acquire the last part yet falls to us.”
“And that is?”
…
“Horner told me that the ship that took Barrett away from San Tu was unmarked. So, we can’t get a direct ID as to who did the physical hauling by IDing the ship, but correctional facilities sub-contract prisoner transportations, so we can find out who did the hauling by simply checking who is the Federal sub-contractor for The Master of Courage in this region. And that information is thankfully public.” Devil was explaining to Park as he accessed the public databases containing the contractors and sub-contractors for The Master of Courage.
“But what if they didn’t use official channels?”
“They almost certainly did. Barrett didn’t arrive on the ship that left San Tu, after all. And the ship likely had other prisoners bound for the Master at any rate.”
“Umm…okay, but as Barrett didn’t arrive on the vessel, what good does it do for us to identify that ship? Shouldn’t we be looking for the one that took him away mid-route?”
“That is exactly what we are doing.”
“Umm…”
“Just observe. Ah! Here it is. Federal prisoner transportation to the Master of Courage in the Core Sys Sector is sub-contracted to LHS 278 Holdings.” Devil closed the database and laid in another course “Let’s go, I hear the fish is excellent in LHS 278 this time of the year.”
...
Fossum Ring in the LHS 278 system
“Something wrong, Park?” Devil asked his co-pilot who was looking around her with a horrified expression.
“This system…”
“Yes?”
“There are TWO earth-likes, three major starports, billions of people…”
“And?”
“It’s run by…criminals…” she whispered the last word. Devil sighed.
“Yes, Park. It is run by criminals. Much as San Tu is, or Maia in the Pleaides or Arbuda was until recently. Or several other systems I could name off the top of my head, there’s nothing unusual about it.”
“But…”
“Get your head in the game, Park. We’re not here on some crusade against piracy.” Devil snapped.
“Yes sir.” She said sheepishly.
Walking to a data terminal, Devil used his Pilot’s Federation ID to access the local missions board and scrolled to LHS 278 Holdings to see who the contact was.
“Manager Charli Powers is the one we want to talk to.” He muttered. Motioning for Park to follow he said “Come on Park, let’s go. This time we get to talk to a legitimate business woman instead of a hardened criminal.”
Getting Powers to see him was surprisingly easy. EPF credentials opened some doors rather quickly, which was useful in Devil’s line of work. Manager Powers was a dark-skinned thin woman who looked like she was only a meal away from starving and badly deprived of sleep.
There’s a substance abuser if I ever saw one. Devil thought to himself. Surprisingly many corporate execs – even ones high up on the ladder – were addicts. Mostly they were overusing stims to keep them going, and sleep pills to bring themselves down when they were close to crashing. In a system ruled by pirates, getting your hands on quantities of narcotics was not an issue, so likely most – if not all – corporate drones were more or less hooked on drugs. Corporate life. What a bliss it must be.
“Commander…umm…” Powers began standing up from her seat and extending her hand.
“Blaide.” Devil said shaking the offered hand – using his name still felt strange, but he had made the decision to make the attempt. He usually said that using his name was dangerous in his line of work, but this was not entirely accurate – a name was only one of many ways of identifying a person.
“You wanted to meet me…?” Powers said while sitting back down.
“Yes. I have a request.”
“Oh?”
“I have been contracted by a corporation operating in this region of space to conduct an investigation regarding several attacks on their shipping lines.”
“Oh?” Powers said raising her eyebrows “I’m sure I have no idea how I may be of help.”
“Well, you see. These attacks have been made by using a phony distress signal apparently originating from a Federal prisoner transport to lure merchantmen into an ambush. And seeing as you are the sub-contractor of Federal prisoner transports in this region of space…” Devil trailed off. Powers’ eyes went wide, and her nostrils flared.
“I’m not sure I appreciate what you are insinuating, commander. Despite the fact that we must operate in an…unsavoury environment does not mean we would stoop to piracy! We have nothing to do with such attacks!”
Devil raised his hand placatingly.
“I am absolutely sure you are innocent, but you must understand that I have to be thorough. As luck would have it, the pirates were a bit careless during their last raid, and they left behind a black box which recorded the attacking vessel’s ID. So, just to be absolutely sure none of your vessels had anything to do with these attacks, I would like to access the logs of your transport ships and their itineraries from…let’s say the past month. I will only be needing limited access to verify your ships are innocent. Itineraries, routes and comms contacts should do the trick, nothing confidential.”
Powers bit her lower lip and looked at Devil warily.
“I’m sorry, commander Blaide, I cannot help you.”
“Oh?” Devil sensed there was something troubling the woman, she was moving nervously and was twitching her fingers. It could be that she needed her fix, or it could be something else entirely.
“And why is that?” He pressed on.
“It’s none of your concern, commander, now if you’ll please excuse me…” Time to use the heavy guns then, Devil thought and fished a credit chip from his pocket. He slid it across the table to Powers.
“I am sure we can come into some kind of an arrangement? What I ask is, after all, nothing too confidential.”
The woman looked at the chip. She could clearly see the blue indicator that signified the chip contained 2 million credits. Devil could see her junkie brain starting to count – depending on how far gone she was, it might be that she no longer dared to indulge her needs with corporate accounts and personal finances took you only so far – mid level execs were wealthy by common standards, but anyone with a habit could easily wreck their finances.
“Look, maybe...there is something I can do for you.” She said licking her lips and eyeing the chip. “We don’t have many ships that are committed to prisoner transport. And we rotate them so that for the most part only one of them is on active duty at any given time. For the past month one ship has been handling all transports.”
“But?” Devil sensed there was a ‘but’ coming.
“It was lost two days ago.” The woman said with a sigh.
“Lost?”
“As in probably destroyed. In Thoth a few light years from here.”
“You haven’t sent an S&R party?”
“When the ship was lost it wasn’t exactly…doing what it was supposed to be doing…” realising what she had just said she hurriedly added “…but it was not conducting piracy, commander, I can assure you! It was…”
“Smuggling?” Devil guessed.
“Yes. Imperial slaves to be exact.” Devil could hear Park gasping in shock behind him. The kid was getting a crude introduction to real life on this mission. It would be good if needless idealism could be exorcised from her foolish young head.
“I see.” Devil mused.
“However…the ship’s black box is transmitting it’s locator signal…if you could…”
“I understand. You want me to recover the black box and bring it to you, so your superiors do not find out you’ve been using these transports to transport…different merchandise than they were supposed to.”
“Exactly.” She looked relieved.
“And in return you’ll give me the information I need?”
“I’ll give you the access and decryption codes you will need, and you can retrieve that data yourself from the black box before you bring it to me.”
...
Somewhere in the Thoth system
“I have the black box signal, commander. Bearing 102 by 12” Park said.
“Copy that Park. Let’s see then.” The Aspect of Damnation dropped out of supercruise with a bang in the middle of a debris field. Checking his contacts panel, Devil locked on to the black box and deployed his cargo scoop. After half a minute, the black box was within the Aspect’s hold.
“Go hook up that thing in the Aspect’s system and download the data Park.”
“Will do, sir.”
After fifteen minutes Park’s voice rattled in through the ship’s comms.
“All done sir. The data is downloaded into the ship’s systems.”
“Excellent. Get back on the bridge.”
“On my way.”
Devil opened the ship’s logs and scrolled to the date when Barrett was transported.
“Here.” He said “The ship made an unscheduled stop in LFT 729 and docked with another vessel. Let’s see the comms logs…aaand there…comms ID downloaded.”
“What now?” Park asked as she returned to the bridge.
“Now? Now we wait and see if the good commanders Horner and Goodwin manage to do their parts.”