A few months before Iron Five’s deployment on Keden
MIND GAMES
Year: 878 TE
System: Sol
Planet: Earth
Location: New York City, United Northern Alliance
Carlos Andrews walked into an upper class restaurant in downtown Manhattan. At seventy floors up, the view through the glass wall was mind blowing. Sky scrapers of silvery Everglass rose majestically from hundreds of rows of unseen streets, and copper colored transport hubs floated on thin air, filtering steady streams of traffic at varying altitudes.
Subdued music and soft chatter filled the room. A woman in a fitted, flowing azure dress approached and led him across the thick carpeted floor to a booth where a broad man in an exquisitely tailored suit sat alone.
“Terrier...Welcome...Sit.” The man’s voice was strong and brutish
“Thank you Sir.”
Across from them, at a table for four, three men appeared deep in conversation but Carlos knew a bodyguard when he saw one. Sleek and stylish, they could have easily been passed over for high-level lawyers or traders, but the eyes, the eyes never lied. A soldier was a soldier regardless of his dress code and it was always the eyes that gave him away.
“We think the mole might be implementing something big, and soon...”
The big man stuffed his mouth with a forkful of meat before continuing “Your friend, you say that you are certain about him?”
“Huski is loyal to Earthfront, I’ll bet my life on it.”
“Then it must be one of the others.”
“They are all good men sir and I still don’t think this is right…”
“I understand your loyalty to your team. I understand how difficult it is to even imagine one of them in this light. But facts are facts and all evidence points to Iron Five. We know it’s not you, and you swear for Gant, but you can’t, to this day, be absolutely sure about the others.”
Carlos was silent and the man continued.
“Look, if your team is innocent, then there’s nothing to worry about after they’ve been investigated. But if not...”
There was no way around it. Iron Five was under surveillance and there was nothing Carlos could do about it. Regarding this mole however, that wasn’t the case. He had long decided to find the person responsible for his team’s scrutiny and expose them by any means necessary, and if he was lucky, by the time the rest of the guys found out, they’d be more than willing to forgive him for not giving them a heads-up.
“...get to Kona immediately...” The big man was still talking “...and await further instructions. Your next Earthfront op will re-deploy you on Keden. I have arranged for your team’s arrival there within the month. With patience and a little luck, we should prove Iron Five’s innocence, root out this traitor and put an end to this madness.”
“Yessir...” Carlos replied
He had been forbidden to talk to his team about the matter and with the threat of disbandment, court-martials, and jail time hanging over their heads; he thought it best to follow orders, for now.
A slight wave of the older man’s gold ringed fingers told him that he had been dismissed and without further ado, he left the room.
*******
Carlos stepped onto a sky-deck outside the fancy restaurant, and beyond a metal handrail that separated life from death, a parking assistant brought his Dragonfly to rest against the edge of the open waiting area. With a few quick steps, he slid into the driver’s seat and let the gull-winged door seal shut. Then in the blink of an eye, the sleek Aircar fell away from the building and blended seamlessly into a flowing river of traffic below.
Miles of sky lanes crisscrossed the city and millions of people sped back and forth in them. The Dragonfly’s navigation system kept it moving in sync with the tide and after fifteen minutes, Carlos ascended an off ramp, invisible to the human eye but clearly indicated on the cockpit windscreen, and continued his climb toward a monstrous disk that capped one of New York’s busiest spaceports.
Within minutes, he was parked and walking through a vast, bustling terminal where the sounds of technology and endless multitudes filled the air with an overwhelming, never ending hum. But implants made it possible to control the sound bombarding his ears by merely desiring it, just as his Dees provided information in the form of holographic images at the speed of thought. Everyone had them in a variety of models, unlike the average civilian however, Carlos’ implants were military issued.
Fifteen minutes later, he exited a lift that brought him to a private hangar on one of the highest levels of the complex and boarded an automated transport cart. The robot ferried its passenger to a ship a half a mile across the cavernous Eversteel room where rows of starships and other spacecraft slept peacefully in their slots. These belonged to New York’s most influential families and corporate heads; billion credit technology that none but the crème de la crème could afford.
Once aboard his ship, the Vanon; An Earthman Industries, Liberty Class vessel, prized by many for their easy space to surface capabilities, Carlos initiated the computer’s start up sequence and opened its digital communications module.
“La Guardia Space Command...Captain Andrews of Starship Vanon requesting departure from A-Deck to Vacuum.”
A flawless female voice responded “Captain Andrews of Starship Vanon, you are cleared for departure. Link up and go auto.”
“Copy clearance and link up...going auto.”
The spaceport’s auto guidance system took control of Carlos’s ship and the dull-grey, hundred ton, forward wing machine lifted effortlessly from the floor.
“Starship Vanon, you have guidance on link, window to Karis is open and rocket to station is a go. Please confirm.”
“Vanon copies rocket to Karis.”
Over the lively city and into the clouds, the Vanon shot skyward until the Earth hung beneath it like a beautiful marble and the floating city that was the Space Station Karis rushed into view. Carlos let the autopilot take him toward it but he would not be docking there.
“Starship Vanon...” his com came alive “...Karis Command has you on guidance...state intensions.”
“Karis Command…Vanon requests clearance for flyby to Triton.”
Five seconds passed
“Vanon, you have guidance for hyper light to Triton. Set course and sync up.”
Carlos activated his navigation module, punched in the co-ordinates for Neptune’s most popular moon and then the Vanon disappeared from Earth’s orbit. Three hours later, he came out of the warp stream fifty thousand kilometers from Triton. Below and off to his right, the stunningly blue gas giant that was Neptune dominated the blackness of space but with a few quick adjustments, he took manual control of the ship and changed course to Proteus.
The Vanon approached the irregular moon and came to rest on a landing pad beside one of its many massive craters. Here, he would wait at Kona, a decommissioned Earthfront military storage base until he received his orders.
CHAPTER 10 - ADULA
The Jamavin is an impressively large vessel, measuring roughly three thousand feet long by five hundred feet high and eight hundred feet wide. Emptied of its cargo on Mayreau, one of the Starports in Rouna’s System, she is now on her way to Adula for another pickup. The cargo, billion-credit stones, minerals, and whatever else that is to be churned and extracted by the miners.
The rumble of its fifteen colossal engines fills the cabin with a constant hum and the scents of oil and grease hang ever present in the air. It is my first time on an Industrial ship and I hope to God that it will be my last. Greasy pipes, running in many directions, line the glossy white metal walls around us. A few very small windows and compartments, housing wires and whatnot, make up the rest of the space, as dim white lights along the roof flicker.
Above and in front of us, is a long-dead Holo-screen unit, a relic of older times.
This ship is one of the very few left that run on both Sol Technology, and Oiled Mechanics, which means that the Jamavin must be over three hundred years old.
It’s Amazing. Of all the Industrial ships throughout the galaxy to choose from for my first flight, I had to end up on a clunker.
Maria had lived up to her promise. After leaving her underground lair and the psychopathic looking Manny behind, we ditched the Airvan and traveled by speedboat to an old-world looking Spire group called Richmond. With its closely packed, colorful brick and limestone houses, bakeries and market squares, it wasn’t difficult to blend into and move unnoticed though the fishing town as just another group of tourists taking in the scenery.
Once in Richmond, Maria led us through a maze of sidewalks and alleys to an almost hidden pub, tucked away in one of the many back streets. There we met her contact who, even though a bit suspicious, knew well enough that our presence there was none of his business and so, helped us along our way. I must say, Maria impresses me; Akita definitely lost a good one, but that was a little over nine hours ago, and now we are here, safely tucked away in a small passenger compartment behind the cockpit of this ship and approaching Adula.
********
The Jamavin shakes as we pass through atmosphere and enter the Mud planet’s airspace. On my right, through a little oval window, the clear and bright blue Adulan sky is dazzling. The ship jolts again and miles beneath us in every direction, thick grey clouds span as far as can be seen. Below them, all is mud; one very giant ball of perpetually shifting muck and rain and because of this, life cannot exist here without the proper facilities or equipment.
Known for their massively high yield of precious stones, minerals and valuable deposits, mud planets are rare. Miners from all over the galaxy travel to these worlds under the protection and banners of major corporations that are a part of the Galactic Super Credit Industry. It is quite fitting really, now I think of it, to hide a Galactic-Nine secret military here. I just never had a reason to think about it.
“Maria?”
She is sitting in the aisle seat to my left and her eyes meet mine
“Where exactly is this base?”
What I’ve seen through the tiny window next to me ever since entering the thick cloud cover, is nothing more than a mud ocean and heavy rains that limit visibility to less than a quarter mile.
She raises her voice over the rumble of the ship “It’s beneath the docks where we’re headed. We’ll have to be careful when we land though, the last thing we need are suspicious miners asking too many questions.”
I nod my understanding and return to the bleak world outside.
What has become of Mirana? Is she alive? Where is Terri? Is he happy?
The Jamavin slows to a crawl and the outline of what looks like a mountain range comes into view. The sight is unreal. What might have been soil-covered ridges and valleys thousands of years ago, are now bare rock and monumental boulders all wedged together.
“We’re here. Stick to me and don’t talk to anybody.”
Acknowledging her with nods and grunts, we have no choice but to do as she says. The reality of our situation has fully sunken in and if there is nothing on Adula then we are definitely going to be up the creek without a paddle.
The Starship banks and turns as we fly over an Eversteel complex that floats above the deep mire by way of Magnatech. The power it generates to stay afloat must be enormous. The mining docks and facilities slide closer and closer and with wicked jolts and rumbles, the ship touches down; shocking me physically and mentally until the immense shakings and noises cease, and after a few minutes, die out entirely.
Maria unbuckles her harness. I stand as the rest of the team unclick from their seats and follow her through the constricted corridor. Looking back at the cockpit, the pilots are nowhere in sight.
Walking is uncomfortable and all attempts to avoid chaffing seem no less difficult than when I first put on this flight suit. It’s bulky and rough, both inside and out but it’s all I’ve got for now. We received them when we boarded and by the look and smell of mine, it has been used way too many times and not been cleaned nearly as much, but I’ll manage.
The smell of oil and grease is even stronger here in the confinement of the passage and were it not for the periodical blasts of recycled air overhead, my lungs would be in need of serious cleaning.
We keep walking, down narrow stairs and through a sliding door to the cargo hold. As we enter, I survey the scene. There is nothing here but a few crates in a corner strapped to the not so shine floor, just a monstrous room of nothing.
“When we leave the ship, speak to no one. You follow me and do exactly as I say…” Maria looks toward Akita and then back at me “…are we clear?”
I speak before Akita does “Let’s just get this done.”
This back and forth between them is wearing my patience thin. I had to break up their heated arguments twice during the trip. The hiss of shifting hydraulics fills the air as the lights above and ahead goes from green to red. I put on my helmet and let the auto-clasp seal it to my suit. All sound temporarily disappears and there is a split second of not being able to breathe, then the suit’s air filters kick in and what was greasy and oily scented, is now clean and fresh. Sound comes to me again but just a little better than muffled. The large cargo doors pop out, slide upward, and as Maria moves forward, so do I.
********
The team and I follow our guide across the Eversteel deck of the floating docks. There’s barely anyone around and the few we have seen, seemed unaware of our existence. The air on this world is very dense but breathable; however, the muck is all around us microscopically. The thickness of this is enough to clog a human’s lungs to the point of death within minutes, so I enjoy my filtered air and continue in Maria’s wake.
Across the large platform and toward two, three story structures, I absorb the sights and my conclusion is, that this planet is what hell would be if it were made of mud. The rain slams into us like sheets of iron droplets. Without a suit, this pelting of droplets would definitely be a memorable experience, if I survived to have the memory that is. Finally, I have a reason to appreciate this smelly suit. Its bulk and coarseness has its purpose.
We continue onward against the sheet rain as the thick, roiling muck below, swells and dips like any ocean on Earth; it is a sight I would in no way soon forget. Low hanging, thick, black clouds shroud the mountains we flew past earlier and the rain is getting worse.
How in the Galaxy can it get worse?
Between the two, three story buildings now, what looks like a construction MAV sits abandoned beside a row of old iron crates. One of its legs are missing, a pitiful sight, as though it had beating heart, sitting maimed and helpless.
We round a corner and approach a doorway of a third building. Maria motions for Bull to open the dense door and after he turns the locking mechanism with powerful arms, we all trail her inside. In an instant, the room illuminates with the glare of red lights, projected from about a dozen or so bulbs in the ceiling.
“Close the door, and for your own good, keep your helmets on.”
Pitbull pulls it shut and turns the lever that locks it. Almost everything on this facility remains manually operated. There hasn’t been one digital interface up to this point and the reason behind this had made itself clear ever since we set foot on this complex.
Maria leads us through another opening and into an elevator.
Perpetual muck and rain of this magnitude is no friend to electronics and the heavy moisture here would eventually destroy any form of Digital technology in a short time.
I see why an old bird like the Jamavin would be the perfect ship for its job.
The elevator shoots downward with a gut-wrenching lurch and then rapidly slows to a halt. My innards force themselves back into place and the doors slide open. Pacing Maria, we move out of the lift and through another passageway. Our boots echo dully on the floor of the wide, red-lighted corridor and in our silence there is tension. There are questions to ask, and answers I doubt we would get but for the moment, all words remain contained.
Maria takes us to the closed doorway of a room not far from the elevator, then punches in a few security codes on a rubberized keypad, gives her thumb, eyes and voice to the scanner, and the door opens. White light engulfs us as the doors seal shut behind and after squinting for a few seconds, our surroundings become clear. We are in, what looks like, a class or conference room, filled with chairs and desks, all facing a small platform. On this platform beneath a low ceiling, a narrow, waist high computer console stands like a sleek silver pedestal. Maria immediately goes to work, waking the sleeping system, and then removing five sheets of digital paper from a shelf nearby, she passes them to us. After hitting a few keys on a digital keyboard only she can see, the familiar Dee-Scan interface appears on the translucent sheets in our hands.
“Captain…”
I remove the bag containing the Deepcore Pilot’s Digital Eyes and hand the lenses to her. Then, with anxiety threatening to overtake me, I wait as she places the pair of Dees; face up, on the flat, thin glass plate of the computer’s scanner. After the program begins running, images of the ceiling above us appear on our papers.
“Go back, before the battle on Solace Five, we’re looking for the moment he received his orders.”
I think of “The Man” according to the dead, enemy pilot. I know in my heart that if I find this person, I will find everything. The computer scans its way back in time and brings with it a group-felt pain.
I watch as the battle that took Terri’s life rewinds before us through the eyes of our opponent. I see him maneuvering, after and before Terri’s MAV explodes in a wicked fireball. Buried thoughts and feelings surface, but anger and a drive for vengeance replaces the pain, and yet I find myself blinking back emotions threatening to overtake me. The war on the Ice Planet rages on. He is now on my tail and locked in combat with me. It’s strange seeing myself in the form of my MAV flying in rewind, but it is over quickly and eventually, the Deepcore pilot is alone and in an underground bunker on Solace Five. A day flies by, and then another, and after two more trips to the bathroom, a desk and Holoscreen comes into the picture.
“Slow it down…”
Maria gives me what I want and I wait…but not for long.
“Stop it...”
Everyone’s exclamations merge with mine as we stare into the face of the impossible.
“Play at normal speed…”
The voices grow gradually until the volume is right and the conversation fills the room.
“…No, he won’t stop. I know him and he hasn’t gotten soft. The ambush your men have set up won’t work. This is why I’ve sent you there. If Iron Five survives Keden, then they must come to you on Solace. The Light Mecha would be no match for a Cyclone and this way, there will be no questions or investigations into the matter. Kill them all and get to Keden. Lock it down. Take the Cyclones. None can match them. Keden will fall and then Earth will follow. You must not fail, and do not delay…”
“Pause it Maria…”
Terrier’s face stares into mine. Words escape me. The world makes no sense. Everyone remains speechless until Akita swears, breaking the dumfounded silence. I suspect now why Hawk wanted the pilot interrogated on Rouna and us to have no contact with him. The General must have been in on it. Who else could have sent the assassins?
“Can somebody tell me what’s going on?”
“I don’t know Hound…”
I’m still searching the recesses of my mind for clues, for anything that might have been a warning sign overlooked.
“Why the hell is Terri giving orders to kill us?”
Akita answers Hound with a question of his own “Why would he want the downfall of Keden and Earth?”
Bull answers, “Whatever this is, it’s a mess and we’ve become expendable, and the funny thing is…none of us knows why…”
“Let’s take this one step at a time…” Everyone turns to me now “…we know that those Deepcore Heavies on Keden were sent to lure us into a trap and destroy us…the question is, why? The answer was, according to our prisoner, to remove the obstacle. So we know that we were a hindrance to whatever plans they had.”
The thought of my brother becoming my enemy in such a short space of time, cuts deep. Everyone nods in agreement
“…the second question was, who is this ‘Man’ that Captain Hiram was talking about, and now we know it was Terri. As for General Hawk, we don’t know for sure where he fits into all of this but those were more than likely Earthfront assassins who attacked us on Rouna, and after the way we were treated there, it is safer to assume that he is behind this, at least until we gather more information. There is something else too. Deepcore somehow stabbed them in the back…”
“How do you figure this?” Maria asks
“The pilot we captured told us that he was ordered by “The Man” to kill us. He also said that he worked for him, but when I asked what Deepcore’s intentions on Keden were, he said, to protect it…”
Maria again “Protect it from?”
Pitbull now “From the Man, I remember.”
“So then…” Hound jumps in “Terrier was not supposed to die on Solace, but they killed him anyway.”
“Exactly…” I continue “…and the unrest on Keden must have been deliberately provoked by Earthfront…”
Hound cuts in “Then that means…the Earthfront fleet that’s headed to Keden is not a helping hand…”
“No…it’s a full scaled invasion…”
Pitbull’s words send shivers up my neck. I retrieve the Dees and store them once more
“The Kedenian Government and Deepcore must have discovered Earthfront’s plans and so united against a common enemy. We need to get to the hangar. There’s not much time.”
“Huski…?”
I turn to Maria. It is the first time she has ever addressed me by this name
“Does it make a difference if you go to Keden now? I mean…”
“Iron Five is headed to Keden…you may go where ever you choose from here, but right now, it’s where we need to be.”
“I didn’t mean it that way…I’m just looking at it realistically…”
“Maria…” Every second wasted here seems to add a few pounds to my shoulders “…Get us to the hangar.”
“Wait…”
She hits a few more buttons and a hidden shelf on the wall opens. From it, her palms open and in them are five pairs of brand new, still-sealed-in-plastic, Digital Eyes.
“Unregistered Dees…you will need them.”
“Does this mean that you’re now a part of Iron Five?”
“I have nowhere to go, and I am definitely not going back to Rouna anytime soon.”
I take a pair from her and so does the rest of the team. After a bit of fuss and cheering over getting them in place and seeing everything extraordinarily again, we follow Maria through a hidden doorway, along a few corridors and down a very long ramp.
********
Three minutes later, we enter a vast room made up of dense Eversteel walls, and a perfectly flat floor and roof. The place lights up and relief...joy…or is it hope? Maybe all three…etch a ridiculous smile across my face. Ten MAVs, I count them again just to make sure, all standing in line not far away. I have never seen anything like them; similar to the one we fought on Solace Five but remarkably different.
“What kind of MAV’s are these?” Pitbull’s voice echo’s eerily across the hangar.
Maria walks toward the closest one and runs a tender hand along the sleek frame of the sleeping machine.
“These are not MAV’s…” She turns to us “…They are Dynamic Automated War Gear…DAWGs.”
This is too good to be true and after a moment of gathering our thoughts, we all break out in stupid grins.
“I knew you’d like it…” She’s grinning too.
“Dogs…” I get her attention “…perfect…”
“These are the Galactic Nine’s response to Earthfront’s Cyclone project.”
“I’d never even heard of the Cyclones before that pilot mentioned them…how…”
“Not everyone who works for Earthfront belongs to Earthfront, Captain.” Her eyes tell me that she knows a lot more than any ordinary pilot should.
“Who are you?”
She smiles “The proper question would be; what do I do for the Galactic Nine?”
“So how can you be a part of us, if you still work for the Nine?”
Maria glances toward Hound “I am a freelanced Tech-head. I maintain, prepare and r