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Authors: Dave O'Connor

Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #Space Opera, #Book 4 of Warner’s World, #space, #Military, #Romance, #Adventure, #World, #opera, #sci-fi, #Warner's

Retribution (14 page)

BOOK: Retribution
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Phil leant forward “rogan?”

“Could be Sir.”

That news brought a sinking feeling to Phil’s stomach.

“Anyway” continued Jenny “we decided to leave the device alone for now and monitor it. It’s not very active Sir.”

“Can you determine where it’s broadcasting to?”

“Not specifically Sir. It’s a general broadcast just like our comms transponders. The thing is Sir that its gain, its transmission power, is not that great. It would be insufficient to reach Polaris.”

“So the receiver must be a lot closer.”

“Exactly Sir. We think it’s most likely on, well within, Sibu.”

“The gas giant?”

“Yes Sir. I know it sounds…”

“Impossible.”

“Well yes.”

“Mmm… So what, they are relaying that data? If so, can’t we detect that transmission? It must be substantial.”

“We have already run some preliminary scans and there is no such relay transmission. Well nothing of any substance - just traffic that would be consistent with the mining operations going on there.”

“We think they must be processing it locally and then only relaying a very small subset” said Rudi.

Phil nodded. “Have you conducted inspections of the mining vessels operating around Sibu?”

“As we speak.”

“All right thanks for letting me know and please get back to me after those inspections are complete.”

“So just to be sure Sir” said Rudi. “You concur with not closing this down.”

“Yeah Rudi we want to catch whoever is doing this. Hopefully you’ll bag them in your inspections.”

“That’s the plan. Thanks Sir.”

“Thank you Rudi and you too Jenny.”

Chapter 9. Sandford 2200, 6 June

LCmd Manuel Rodriguez arrived back from the field exercise exhausted. He threw his pack next to the small desk in his cabin and glanced at his console on the desk. The blue light attracted his attention. He fired up the small display by swiping the surface and went to the second most recent message – the one marked URGENT.

“Shit!” he exclaimed.

A minute later he had undressed and was standing under the hot stream of water in his ensuite. His hair was filthy and the water turned a diluted brown as he immersed his hair. He applied the shampoo without thinking about it, for his mind was now awake and focussed on a new adventure. His dream had come true. Tomorrow he would take the shuttle to Alta Vista destined to be the XO of the Fleet’s newest ship.

‘And not just any ship’ he said to himself. “Fuck’n A!” he said out loud with a grin as the water pounded his back.

As he stepped out of the shower with the water dripping from his lean but muscled body, he thought about the consequences and in particular how he would have to say goodbye to Mandy. He was actually glad of this excuse to end it. Sure she would be upset. ‘She’ll get over it’ he said to himself. ‘I wonder what fresh pastures await?’ He even smiled at his handsome latin face in the mirror. ‘How lucky can a guy get?’

Chapter 10. Nova Vista 2300, 6 June

1
st
Lt Tola Puchanski entered the gate lounge and made her way to the Fleet Travel Service desk. The sergeant on duty looked bored but managed a “good evening Maam. What can I do for you?”

She double tapped her communicator and his display updated with her travel warrant. He studied it for a second. “Right you are Maam. Head down to the ground level and go to the end where you’ll find the ground shuttle bay. A number 14 shuttle should depart there in ten minutes. It will take you to the officers lines.”

“Thank you” said Tola. Her voice was weary. She got on the escalators. She had them all to herself. The place was almost deserted. A few people were walking about but most were terminal staff.

She thought about her new assignment as the Ops Officer on the Phantom and a smile appeared on her face. She was so glad to be out of administration. ‘Another year and I would have gone barmy’ she thought. ‘I never want to do something that dull ever again’ she resolved.

The digital billboard that broadcast to the captured audience on the escalators refreshed with a bronzed he-man emerging from the surf. The image prompted a thought about her Tom. ‘He’s not that well-built’ she thought ‘but he satisfies me just fine.’ She thought of how they had made love two hours before the flight this evening. ‘I’m going to miss him.’

 

Chapter 11. Washington DC 0730, 7 June

The white limousine pulled up outside the stately Georgian home. The door opened and Mr Joe Ubabe came out, console in hand. His dark shaven skull bobbed as he walked down the steps to the driveway. He got in the back seat, greeted his driver and the limousine purred out of the circular drive and onto the leafy street. It left the Potomac River behind before turning east on the Potomac Distributor – an eight lane dual carriageway freeway.

The vehicle was soon cruising at 180 kph in the second outside lane. It had been six months since he came down with a Deep Vein Thrombosis on a flight to Paris. It had given him a scare. Up till then he had felt pretty robust. But three months of blood thinning medication and the haranguing of his doctor he finally gave up taking a shuttle.

The car trip took an extra thirty minutes, but he was getting used to it and even enjoyed using the time to catch up on his private correspondence. He selected the message from his son with a certain weariness. Sure enough he was asking for more money. ‘I managed my money all through uni. Why can’t you Jason?’ he said to himself.

Joe was completely unaware of the passing traffic. He couldn’t hear anything from outside save for a faint whisper of wind. He was taken completely by surprise when the driver swerved into the inner lane. He knew nothing of how the big road train that had just passed them on the outside lane had now without warning moved over into their lane. And he had no chance of bracing himself for the impact as the vehicle behind rammed into them.

The limousine, as big as it was, could not prevent its trajectory or its rotation. It tumbled over and to the right hitting the now braking road train with its roof. Joe’s dark shaven skull was crushed against the back of the huge road train.

Chapter 12. Washington DC 0800, 7 June

Bernie could not believe what he had just heard on the news. ‘It can’t be?’ he asked himself. He finished parking his car in the underground carpark below his office. ‘She knows and she’s done this.’ He took a big breath to try and steady himself after the shock. “Bloody Malcolm” he said out loud with bitterness and venom.

He took out his communicator and rang Rose “You’ve heard?”

“Yes just now” she replied keeping both hands on the wheel of her car as it made its way in peak hour traffic.

“Meet me at Jessy’s. I’ll be there in five.”

“I’m still five minutes from the office.”

“Don’t go there. Meet me at Jessy’s. I’ll wait.

Rose pulled into the nearby public carpark and hurried on foot to Jessy’s café. She found Bernie already sitting at a table. She sat opposite him aware that Bernie looked strung out.

“She did it” he blurted out.

The waitress appeared. Rose asked calmly for a flat white and Bernie just muttered “Same.” Rose waited till the waitress had withdrawn.

“You don’t know that.”

“Look” said Bernie and he told her all about his meeting with Malcolm Muggeridge.

“I thought you said he hated you?”

“Look I couldn’t see any other way” said Bernie. He paused for a moment and then added “I told him I would speak with the Minister this morning. He knew that and he’s told McKew or he’s organised this himself. I don’t know. We certainly can’t trust his assertion that the other Chiefs aren’t involved.”

“Hold on Bernie. Look it is possible – what you say. But it sounds a bit of a stretch… like a conspiracy theory to me. I’m not buying it till we have some more proof.”

“We don’t have time for more proof – if there is any.”

“Excuse me” said Rose forcefully “why didn’t they just kill you. Why kill the Minister. It doesn’t make sense.”

Bernie calmed down a little.

“We’re both still alive” said Rose. “If I was the Fleet Admiral and guilty then I would have made dammed sure we were all scrubbed.”

“OK, good point” said Bernie. “It’s an incredible coincidence though, isn’t it?”

“True and it still leaves the question of who we tell this to.”

“It’s got to be the Chief Minister. We should contact Belinda Klondike.”

“What, so you’re just going to rock up and …”

“Not me, us. We both need to go and see the Chief Minister. I can ask Belinda for access. We need to do this right away. Don’t go to your office.”

Rose felt decidedly uncomfortable about all this. If for any reason this turned out not to be true then she would have sunk her career. But if it were true and it became known that she knew and failed to act, then her reputation would be mud. ‘Damm!’ she thought. “Perhaps we should wait a day and see how the death of the Defence Minister plays out.”

“Why? If it’s an accident then it has no bearing. If it’s not then it’s imperative we inform the Chief Minister.”

Rose couldn’t fault Bernie’s logic. She wiped her forehead. ‘Why do I feel that I’m being swept over the cliff?’ she asked herself.

“Come on Rose. We need to do this now” said Bernie. He stood up and offered her his hand. She looked at it like it was poison. “Please!” he beckoned.

She accepted his hand and stood up.

As they walked to Federation Square Bernie was hailed.

“Bernie” asked Malcolm Muggeridge “I just heard the news. Are you all right?”

“Yes Malcolm I’m all right. You have ten seconds.”

“So what are you going to do now?”

“Stay low, Malcolm. Bye” and Bernie hung up. Rose was looking at him inquisitively. “It was Malcolm asking after my health.” Bernie thought about ditching his communicator to avoid being tracked but they were already at their destination.

A full security lockdown was in progress – a precaution in the event of a loss of a Minister. There were heavily armed police and security personnel setting up.  They were required to provide ID and quizzed about their reason for being here. Bernie said he was here to see the Chief Minister’s Senior Political Advisor, Belinda Klondike. They rang through. Thankfully she was already in and she asked to speak with Bernie.

“What do you want Bernie?” asked Belinda “The shit’s hit the fan here.”

“I need to talk to you right now. It’s more important than Ubabe.”

“You’ve got to be kidding Bernie.”

“No, I’m not.”

“All right then, put me back to Security.”

Two minutes later in Belinda’s office Bernie introduced Rose over the noise from the media commentary blaring away on the wall displays. Ubabe’s death was on all channels and it definitely annoyed Bernie. “Can we turn these off?”

Belinda moved her meaty arms over to the controller and hit a few buttons. She was a big boned woman with thick ‘died’ blonde hair. Her rosy cheeks looked a little pale today but things were not usually this hectic. With the noise abated she asked “So what’s this about?”

Bernie went into his now well-rehearsed account that culminated with the transfer of the documents. Belinda studied them carefully and after a good minute looked both of them in the eye and asked “Is this for real?”

“You bet” said Bernie.

“To the best of our knowledge” said Rose at the same time.

“So you’re certain” said Rose looking to Bernie and then turning to Rose added “and you’re hedging your bets.”

Bernie frowned at Rose.

Belinda continued “It seems to be that everything is premised on this original directive coming from the Fleet Admiral. Have you verified this?”

“It’s not on the normal logs” advised Rose “but you wouldn’t expect it to be if she was setting up Yomoto.”

Belinda twisted her big lips. “No I suppose not. But if this is not the case you’re going to have egg all over your face. Is Ubabe’s death related, do you think?”

The door opened and a head poked into the room. “Not now. Go away” yelled Belinda. The head retracted at speed and the door closed.

“Sorry” said Belinda.

“We don’t think so. If the Fleet Admiral or all of the Chiefs wanted this shut down they would have got to Bernie and me at the same time.”

“Mmm…” said Belinda. “And what do you think should happen?”

“Show the Chief Minister and have her arrest the Chiefs” said Bernie.

“Just like that. Get rid of our entire military chiefs in the middle of a war?”

“Well what do you propose?”

“I’m not sure yet. But whatever we do, it’s not going to be a good look for the Government. Is it?”

“We can’t just let these people get away with it” said Bernie. “If you just wrap them over the knuckles they’ll ride rough shod over the Government.”

“Alright Bernie, I am fully aware of your views on the supremacy of civilian authority. The Chief Minister is the one who’ll decide and she’s about to front the media and give a statement in relation to Ubabe’s death. I will try and get you into see her after that. Please wait out in the ante-chamber till I call you both.”

So Bernie and Rose sat in the ant-chamber watching the impromptu press conference on the wall display.

The Chief Minister, Malissa Karalis, started off strong with the announcement of the facts. She stood firm in her navy trousers and blue and white jacket. The jacket was cut short as she was not a tall woman. Her blue black coifed hair provided a strong contrast with her heavily made up complexion. But her eyes were reddening. It was all too apparent that she was emotionally affected. With her hand she dove into her navy trousers and withdrew a tissue and dubbed her eyes. 

“Excuse me” she said. “It’s not my place to be providing a eulogy at this time but I would like say that we have lost a great man in Joe Ubabe. It has been my honour to have served with him. He was the embodiment of the belief that we have to rise above our own personal ambitions and interests. These last two years in particular Joe devoted all his energies to the security of our Federation.”

“I recall after we discovered that our real enemy was the rogan, Joe said that now more than ever we all need to strive for the good of the human species. The interests of the many must outweigh those of the individual. There is no greater exponent of those words than Joe Ubabe. We have lost a great man, a great friend and great servant of humanity. May his light shine on in our endeavour.”

BOOK: Retribution
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