Part 16: Kickin Up Dust

Admiral Siderénios sat at the desk in her office. Outside her window, the blackness of space was punctuated by streaking stars, but she wasn’t interested in watching the galaxy fly by. With the other lights turned low, she sat under a harsh desk lamp, poring over reports from Martian Fleet patrols. There were the normal worries; pirate attacks, criminals hassling small settlements, shipments of contraband being confiscated, nothing too far out of the ordinary. But there was one report that she couldn’t help but reread… for the third time.

With the rise in attacks on shipping perpetuated by anti-Kilon insurgents, cargo shipments out of the Sol System had begun taking more precautions. They were more likely to travel together in convoys for safety, as well as hire a fighter squadron or two for a sense of extra precaution. Some shipping companies had gone as far as hiring private security teams to ride along on their freighters, in order to repel any boarding parties that could penetrate the other defenses.

All of which made the report she was reading the more disturbing. A large convoy had been hit in the open space between Kilon, Terran, and Martian territory. Curiously, while the cargo had been raided, it appeared to have been done haphazardly, with some ships retaining the most valuable items on their manifests. Time would not have been an issue, since the convoy never sent a distress call and was discovered entirely by chance. Further examination showed that while there a few bodies found, the majority of the people aboard could not be accounted for.

As Siderénios considered the report, she was interrupted by the sound of her door chime. “Come in,” she said, only glancing up long enough to see Commander Carter enter the room.

“The Sector 239 report?” he asked, sitting down across the desk from her.

“Doesn’t add up, does it? Something isn’t quite right,” she said, setting the report down. “Whoever hit these ships… they would have had all the time in the world to pick them clean… and the damage was minimal, the ships themselves would have fetched a good price on the black market…”

“Maybe it was Redipsilon Raiders, trying to take advantage of the trouble stirred up by those anti-Kilon ‘Freedom Flyers’.” Carter offered, trying to suppress a smirk.

Siderénios stared across her desk at Carter for a moment. “You don’t believe that… and neither do I. If it was Raiders, they would have blasted those ships wide open and took whatever was salvageable from the wreckage.”

“Not to mention Raiders never hit anything that big, Admiral. There were over a dozen ships in that convoy.”

“The official report is no help here,” she said, standing up to stretch her legs. She wandered over to her window, watching the stars streaking by. “What have you been able to learn from the ‘unofficial’ channels?”

“So far, not much,” Carter answered.

“Hmph,” Siderénios grunted.

Carter rose from his seat, joining her at the window. “There was one bit of interesting news, though, it could be nothing.”

“Oh?” she said, turning to look at Carter, an eyebrow raised.

“Yes, the Olympus Mons was patrolling our territory near Sector 239 shortly after the discovery of the convoy. While on patrol, they captured a ship under the command of a fugitive smuggler. When he was brought on board for interrogation, he had some interesting things to say about that convoy.”

“Such as?”

“He claims that he stumbled across the wreckage of the convoy a day or so before we picked him up.”

“Interesting. Have you requested the recording of the interrogation for the Olympus Mons?”

Carter pulled a datapad from his pocket. “I have it right here… queued right to the moment where he mentions the convoy.” He tapped a few buttons on the datapad. From the screen, a small white room appeared, projected holographically. In the middle of the room sat a gruff looking character, his legs bound by shackles. A Martian officer paced back and forth behind him.

“Look”, the shackled man said, “that convoy was like that when I found it.”

“And what did you take from the wreckage?” the officer asked.

“Nuthin’, I swear!”

“I see. You compassionately stopped to search for survivors? Your ships logs do not show any transmission for help, even a reporting that the convoy was there. Yet they do show that your ship was in the area around the same time it was hit. There is a lot of valuable cargo missing. I find it hard to believe that you did not take anything for yourself.”

“I’m tellin you, I didn’t touch nuthin’!”

“You found a goldmine of good sitting in space for the taking, yet you just turned and left? That makes you incredibly honest, which I am disinclined to believe, or incredibly stupid, which seems more likely.”

“I wasn’t the only one there. That’s why I left.”

“Did you see the people responsible for the attack?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, what do you know? Who did you see there?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Maybe, maybe not. What do you have to lose? With the charges you’re facing, you will be grounded for quite some time.”

The prisoner sighed, the mumbled something low. “It was a frigate... from the White Fleet.”

“What did you say? Speak up!”

“I said, ‘It was a frigate, from the White Fleet.’”

“Now, now, telling lies won’t help you here.”

“I’m not lying… I told you that you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Well, how could I believe you? The White Fleet has long since been decommissioned. You are asking me to believe that a non-existent military vessel had something to do with the convoy attack? Just tell me about your friends, about your partners. We know you couldn’t have attacked those ships alone. Tell us who you were working with. Co-operate, and we might go easy on you.”

“Look, here’s what happened. I dropped out of hyperspace at a regular nav point, hoping to find something to salvage. I did see those ships just floatin there, but that didn’t catch my interest… the big white frigate in the middle of it all did. I served on a ship just like that, during the Battle of Kilos. I know ships like that like I know me own family. That was a frigate from the White Fleet… but believe what you want….”  

Carter shut off the datapad, putting it back in his pocket. “What do you think, Admiral?” he asked.

Siderénios turned back to the window. “If he is telling the truth… that may complicate things. We must be cautious… Have you heard from your contact recently?”

“Yes, Admiral. And I gave him the intel we’ve gathered. He is scheduled to meet us in two weeks at the Charon Spacedock with the goods we’ve requested.”

“And should he or his team be captured and fail?”

“He will not lead them back to us.”

“Good. There is a storm coming, Carter. The Senate fails to see it. But the fate of Mars and her people is tied to the fate of Earth. We must understand that we will not long enjoy the luxury of our isolation. As long as I am in command of the Fleet, I will take every precaution to head off all threats, whether or not the Senate approves.”

“Yes, Admiral.”

“See to it that the footage is leaked to the press… Martian and Terran.”

“The Kilon censors will squash any such report….”

“Doesn’t matter. They cannot stop it from becoming public, not entirely. They may stop it, but only after the seed is sown. Martian media will not be limited. The Kilons will not be able to keep Earth sleeping forever. You are dismissed, Commander.”

“Yes Admiral,” Carter said with a short bow. He quickly left the room. 

Siderénios enjoyed the peace and tranquility of space. She knew that the peace would not last much longer. A storm is coming…