Edge of the Vortex Read online

  “Jesus.” Keegan said under his breath as he shook his head. That was louder than he was expecting.

  When the dust finally settled, the scientist got to his feet and walked towards the now open door, his left arm trying to wave away the smoke that was lingering in the air. Two of the Canadian troopers went through the door before Keegan and quickly called out an all clear.

  When Keegan got through the doorway, and his view was finally unobstructed by the smoke, he saw why they had declared the room safe so quickly, there was a single desk in the room, a chair behind it, a phone on the desk and an old-fashioned file cabinet pushed up against the wall. It looked like the room hadn’t been occupied for quite some time, but there was still the lingering smell of cigarette smoke in the air, even though no ashtray was visible.

  Walking over to the desk, Keegan ran his finger across the corner and examined the dust that he picked up. Whoever had occupied the office clearly wasn’t too worried about keeping it tidy. Looking down at the phone, he noticed it was an old rotary dial phone that had a long cord that appeared to disappear into the desk.

  Greenleaf walked up next to Keegan and looked down at the phone. “What do you think?”

  Keegan took in a deep breath, and half shrugged. “I suppose we should pick it up and see what happens.”

  Reaching down, Keegan picked up the phone and brought it to his ear. There was a little hum over the line before a male voice came in over the line. “Customer service, to whom am I speaking?”

  Keegan had half expected something like that, and he knew that he didn’t have many or any options. “Doctor Keegan Beck.”

  The line went silent. The hum disappeared, and Keegan couldn’t even hear the faintest hint of static. “Damn.” He put the receiver down and looked at Greenleaf. “We need to check the room for anything that might help us.” He said dryly, looking at the file cabinet, but before he could take a step away from the desk, the phone rang with the very recognisable classic bell sound.

  Without thinking, Keegan quickly picked up the phone and brought it to his ear. “Hello.”

  “Doctor Beck.”

  Keegan recognised the voice at once. It was John Robert.

  “Mr Robert.”

  “I see you got yourself to my little operation in Prince Rupert.” John chuckled lightly into the phone. “How may I be of assistance?”

  Keegan grimaced. He hated asking for help, especially from the likes of John Robert, but at that moment he didn’t know where else to turn. “You know what’s happened? We’ve lost the planet.”

  There was a pause. “And?”

  “And I was thinking we pool resources and capabilities and come up with a solution.”

  “What are your assets?” Robert asked quickly.

  “I have some Alliance forces with me.”

  There was a pause. “Right. If we are going to work together, then you need to get to my facility in the east.” Another pause followed. “My information is telling me that nothing is flying at the moment, but land transport is available. I can get a train to your position within the next 24 hours. That train can deliver you to another location where I should be able to get air assets to bring you the rest of the way.”

  “You said nothing was flying.”

  “Nothing modern is flying. This is different.”

  “Where is the rail pickup?”

  “The station is down by the BC Ferry Terminal. Get down there and wait.” The line went dead.

  Keegan looked at Greenleaf. “Seems like we’ve got transportation out of here.” Keegan looked around the room, then back to the door they had burst through. “We need to head back to the boat. John Robert said he’d have a train here in the next 24 hours to get us out of here and heading east.”

  “East where?”

  Keegan shook his head. “He didn’t say.”

  20

  Earth Orbit

  19 January

  Sector Commander Varus was never sure why there was a separate conference room and command briefing room on the Lone Hunter. Both were large enough to handle a large audience and had more than enough equipment and other systems to host a variety of conferences and other meetings if necessary. It was a feature that wasn’t found very often on the more modern ships of the fleet, but just because they were modern didn’t mean that they were an improvement over ships of the past. In fact, many of the newer ships were less advanced than ships built before the war.

  The one feature in the room that Varus was particularly drawn to was the dark red wall panels that wrapped around the chamber. It was the colour of the Pohjois and also symbolised sacrifice in blood that those in the service made, or at least that was what Varus thought of it.

  The commander of the Terran assault force had removed the silver breastplate that he had worn when his attack fleet had jumped into the system, but was still wearing his all-white uniform that was in immaculate condition, and had decided to increase his personal protection in light of some recent developments, and had two Light Sentinels follow him around the ship at all times, and even had them posted inside his quarters. He didn’t distrust Sajoba, he just noticed a dangerous trend developing with his behaviour.

  One of the benefits of the conference room was that it had a long table, unlike the briefing room which just had a lectern at the front of the room, then an amphitheatre[DM1] type seating arrangement for those attending a mission briefing, but for the conversation that Varus needed to have at that moment, the conference room was the appropriate venue.

  When Base Commander Sajoba finally walked into the room he did so with a level of swagger and arrogance that Varus detested. Everything he had feared about Sajoba’s personality and liabilities were coming back to haunt him, and the decision to make him his second-in-command for this mission was starting to worry him. The reckless attitude he had had as a lowly Base Commander hadn’t changed once he had ascended to the position of second-in-command for the operation, one of vital importance to the Coalition.

  And now, just days into their occupation, Sajoba had done something that was going to bring into question Varus’s ability to precisely control and subjugate the inhabitants of the planet below. When Sajoba finally took his seat across from Varus, there was a look on his face that Varus could only describe as that of blithe ignorance of the shit-storm he had stirred up on the planet below.

  “How may I be of service, Sector Commander?”

  Varus waited before responding. He knew if he came across as too angered it would point to a failure to control the situation, something he couldn’t allow. “Tell me what you have done on this island in the southern hemisphere.”

  Sajoba smiled and leaned back in his chair. “I deployed some ground forces.” He said without a hint of emotion in his voice.

  Varus nodded. “This island has presented no threat to our occupation, but you thought this a wise course of action?”

  “We hold the planet. I do not see why.”

  “Because, ” Varus leaned forward. “I need to limit the number of forces required to keep the inhabitants in check and the more trouble there is on the surface, the higher the risk of disruptions to the occupation.”

  “And?” Sajoba put his hands into the air. “We could easily destroy every populated area on the surface by several means. And we have enough troops and mech to keep them in-line if necessary.”

  “When Imperator Casix comes to inspect our operation in a few days, he will want to know what condition the planet is in, and how the occupation is proceeding. Showing him a destroyed world or one covered in our ground troops is not my idea of a successful demonstration of my competence!” Varus slammed his fist onto the table.

  That got Sajoba’s attention, but only for a fleeting second. “I doubt very much that the Imperator will be too concerned if a few less Terrans are crawling around.” The Base Commander shot to his feet and adjusted his blood red leather jumpsuit, and checked that his laser pistol was safely secured on his hip. “I might just
take a personal trip down to that planet.” And without saying another word, he turned quickly and marched towards the exit before Varus could get in another word.

  Watching his defiant second walk out the door did not help Varus’s mood. He knew all too well that if he couldn’t keep a leash on Sajoba that there was an excellent chance that something would eventually go wrong with his occupation, or that Casix would deem him incompetent and unable to maintain command of the forces in the system. Either way, his primary concern was the extraction of the mineral and then safe transport of that cargo back to the Pohjois.

  Shaking his head, Varus picked up a datapad and looked at current force deployments to the planet, and then examined the numbers of estimated dead that had been inflicted to date, 66 million estimated dead. Varus put the pad down. They had only just arrived and slaughtered a huge number of the planet’s dominant species. He was starting to wonder if there was something wrong about the way that they were going about their business. It hadn’t been the plan to open a dialogue with the locals, just to bomb them into submission.

  The only problem with that argument was that it had worked. With the exception of the two failed attempts to launch weapons at the ships in orbit and one or two other minor incidents, their capture of the planet had met with very little in the way of resistance. Perhaps it was just a little heavy-handed and without any real skill employed in achieving their goals. No real panache.

  Switching screens, Varus looked at the schedule of operations for the day, and across an entry that caught his eye. A full droid scan of the planet was to be launched by the engineering department of one of the support ships. It didn’t mention how long the scan would take, or how many droids would be deployed for the operation, but it was something worth note. There was always the chance that world held more surprises and value than had been initially planned for. One asset that had been agreed to keep off limits were the locals. Some on Qera had pushed hard for the enslavement of the local population, but Prince Salrugina had vetoed the measure. Some of Varus’s superiors, including Casix, had stated that they thought the Prince was growing soft in his advanced years.

  Putting the pad down, Varus leaned back in the chair and looked around the empty room. Oh, if only the walls could talk. He thought to himself. The battles that had been planned from this room and the voyages that the ship and crew must have taken together over its many years of service would have been remarkable.

  Letting out a deep breath, Varus closed his eyes and thought about his family, which he didn’t see often enough, and who might pay him a visit in the coming weeks. Nothing was confirmed yet, but he expected them to visit him at his place of duty, and perhaps inspire his young son to follow in his footsteps like he had followed in his fathers, but he also wanted his son to do so with honour, and not be stained by the horrors of war.

  21

  Traxis

  19 January

  “Flight?”

  “Good.” Replied Master Star Pilot Rais.

  “Nav?”

  “Good.” Replied Navigator Second Class Yuli

  “Scopes?”

  “Good.” Replied Detection Technician Fourth Class Jonas.

  “Weapons?”

  “Good.” Replied Gunner First Class Curv.

  “Engineering?”

  “Green.” Replied Master Engineer Sulvan

  “Medical?”

  “Ready.” Replied Master Doctor Prure.

  “Security?”

  “Ready.” Replied the booming voice of the Sentinel Commander.

  “All hands, stand down.” Ranix killed the ship-wide communications system and stood up from the Ship Master’s chair and looked around the bridge. They had been at 7th Fleet headquarters for three days and were waiting on orders while essential repairs were conducted on the hull.

  The 3rd Reconnaissance Squadron, under Commodore Smid, had not issued them any orders since their return to Traxis, and Admiral Taark was still deciding what to do with the ship since the situation on Terra had gotten complicated. Ranix had requested to either stick with the humans and their investigation into the conspiracy, or with whatever moves might be made to free Terra, and not be returned to the 3rd, but that decision hadn’t been reached yet.

  Ranix was well aware that it would take a mighty effort to rid the Coalition from the Sol System, and he had doubts that fleet command would authorise a rescue mission, so all he and the crew of his ship could do were sit and wait. The surviving members of the Visitor Liaison Team not stranded on Terra consisted of Colonel Joe Hunt, Doctor Rhea Stokes, Sarah Chan and the team’s cameraman, Jose Berenguer had all stayed on the station while Admiral Taark had sent Ranix back to his ship to repair, rearm and re-equip and prep for follow-on orders.

  It was just the waiting that was the problem. Ranix could only run so many systems tests and simulations with the massively reduced crew that he had. It was a waiting game.

  22

  Traxis

  19 January

  It was the same conference room as they used two days before, only this time Admiral Taark, Ship Master Ranix and Royal Inspector Wey were looking slightly more pensive than the last time they had met with Joe and Rhea.

  “We’ve reached a decision.” Admiral Taark said in an almost hushed voice. “Doctor Stokes, Royal Inspector Wey, Etsiva Controller Daz will proceed to Mechcharga aboard the Epsilon to conduct their investigation into this conspiracy that you’ve uncovered.”

  Joe looked at Rhea and watched her nod in response to the Admiral.

  “Colonel Hunt and I will travel to Mella II and discuss options for retaking Terra.” The officer looked at Rhea. “During your investigation, Royal Inspector Wey will have full authority over the Epsilon, and all personnel involved, Doctor. I trust that is acceptable.”

  Rhea nodded again. “I have full faith in the Royal Inspector.” She replied. She was flattered to have been asked, but it was really Ranix who had his toes stepped on.

  “Excellent.” The admiral looked over to Wey. “I will leave you to take charge of your party.” The Admiral switched his attention to Joe. “We have lots of work to do, Colonel.”

  23

  Jax Ar 2R

  19 January

  The sensation that was surging through Major Mike Tattersall’s body was not what he had been expecting. Z7 had told him, and the rest of the humans, that the procedure wouldn’t involve any discomfort, but every inch of Mike’s body was tingling with pain.

  The Terran Strike Group had been on the backwater world that was almost 1900 light years from Earth for the last four days going through the basic use of Alliance weapons, communications systems and use of Dynamic Operations combat armour. It had all been new to the humans and had taken a considerable amount of work to master, and almost every other day there had been a new challenge or competition to assess the rankings of the team members under the close observation of Dynamic Operator Master Grade Kol Fine and Light Sentinel Z7. Other than a few other droids, the humans were at the disposal of their two instructors and had answered every challenge with aplomb.

  But those first tests and days of endless instruction were all a precursor to the physical augmentation that was needed to permanently breathe the air found on planets that once made up the Empire, and to speak Universal without the need of any translation devices. When they returned to Earth, they’d be the aliens.

  When Mike finally came to, he was laying on a green cot in a row with the other members of the TSG. Some were already alert and talking with each other, while a few still seemed unconscious. Nikita Pullinski walked up to him and patted him on the shoulder before squatting down next to the cot.

  “How do you feel?” He asked, handing Mike a cup filled to the top with juice.

  Mike rubbed the back of his blonde head. “Actually, not all that different.” He said, smiling weakly. “I don’t feel one hundred percent yet.” He took a sip of the juice and grimaced. It was the daily ration of some vitamin-rich drivel that the t
raining staff had been feeding them since day one.

  “Yes. Rest of team feels the same way. The sensation passes after a short while.” Nikita looked around the room, then back to Mike. “New course rankings listed on the entrance to medical, seems you’re crawling your way back up the ladder, boss.” Nikita smiled.

  Mike rolled his eyes. He wasn’t good at relinquishing command of his unit, but ever since he had arrived on the planet, he had been fighting to get himself back to the top of the list where he belonged. He didn’t know if Kol Fine was serious about the long-term rank structure that he had played with, but Mike wasn’t leaving anything to chance. He was going to prove to Fine that he deserved to lead this group into battle.

  “Any word from Earth?” He asked.

  “Nothing. We haven’t been told a thing.”

  Mike shook his head. There was still much training to go through. He just hoped that there was an Earth to fight for when everything was over.

  24

  Traxis

  19 January

  “What are you thinking?” The admiral asked Joe. He was wearing the same uniform from the earlier meeting, only this time he had a mini blaster tucked into his waistband.

  “I think that I don’t like where things stand.” Joe paused and looked around the small shuttle they were in. It was a relatively tight fit, which surprised Joe since he expected someone of the Admiral’s position to have a more impressive transport. “It doesn’t seem like fleet command will be too eager to give us the resources to take back Earth.” He shook his head. “I’m not sure where that leaves us.” He turned and looked out the window of the shuttle. The station was growing smaller in the distance. Turning his attention back to the admiral he pursed his lips, then looked at his feet. There was still a few traces of sand from Pisi.

  “I am afraid you are right, Colonel. Without the full backing of the Grand Marshall and fleet command, there is very little hope for your world. Things will just go back to the way they were before the Epsilon crashed on your world.” Taark paused and inched forward in his seat towards Joe. “Resources would be razor thin.” He brought a finger up and ran it down the side of his face to his chin. “We don’t have any intelligence on the system at the moment.” He leaned back into the seat. “The hardest part would be convincing the Coalition to pull out.” He looked at Joe. “Because we’d never muster enough ships,” he paused, lost in thought. “Convince them that it’s not worth the effort. Not worth the fight.” There was a pause. “Maybe if we understood more about why they captured Earth, we would be able to act in a more calculating direction.