Out in deep space, far from any of the planets, the only way to guess where in the solar system you were was to look at the sun. If it was big, relatively speaking, you were among the rocky inner worlds. If it was small, you were in the realm of the gas giants.
This single reference point always told Katja that Astral Special Forces Headquarters was somewhere in the inner solar system, but otherwise she had no idea of its coordinates—and that suited her fine. As an operative she was at highest risk of capture by the enemy, and the less she knew about her own organization, the better.
Simplicity of knowledge was her new best friend, in fact. Although she was a member of the most sophisticated intelligence organization in Terran history, and could herself tap into the Cloud at any time, she’d found that the less she kept tabs on the worlds—the less she thought—the easier her job became.
She was an amoral instrument of the State, and the State told her everything she needed to know to do her job effectively.
Since her last mission she’d had more than a week of downtime. As she slipped on her boots she absently glanced around her quarters, making certain everything was in its place. Her eye caught a rogue plate on a side table next to the couch, the remnants of a snack the previous evening. She collected it up and placed it in the washer. SFHQ would have provided someone to do her cleaning, but she preferred to be responsible for her own quarters.
These five rooms were her own private empire, her sanctuary. She maintained complete control over them. It was a coping mechanism to counter the madness of an operative’s life, but it worked and she was happy.
Her front door slid open and she stepped out onto a wide, stone terrace, breathing deeply, taking in the soft cool scents of the trees, the water, and even the stone itself. She strolled forward to the wide railing and gazed down at the park below. Many hectares of well-tended grass stretched away, dotted by natural clusters of trees and broken by meandering paths and gardens blooming in vibrant colors. A stream bisected the entire park, widening into a pool bordered on one side by sand and on the other by a wooden gazebo.
A brilliant panel of white light shone down from the dark ceiling of the cavern, its angle indicating mid-morning as it cast its shadows across the landscape. There were people scattered throughout the park, some enjoying the landscape while others worked quietly at maintenance.
Katja took a moment each day just to take in this vista, thankful again to the State for taking such good care of her. Then she turned and strode along the stone walkway, past doors which fronted the quarters of other operatives, toward the lift which would take her to the briefing rooms. It was time to start working again.
On the terrace she saw only one other person, a fellow operative named Shin Mun-Hee, and beyond a smile and a nod there was no need for further communication.
At least, until Shin decided to speak.
“Hi, Katja. Still on vacation?”
“Actually,” she said, glancing down at her military issue coveralls, “I’m just heading back to work today.”
“I heard about the Centauri spy—nicely done sniffing him out.” Shin was quite a bit taller than Katja, but the way she looked down always suggested more than just a difference in height. Even her compliments sounded ever-so-slightly superior.
“Thanks. One less spy for us all to worry about.”
“Shame you couldn’t take him alive—I’d love to have deconstructed his mind.”
“He was a legitimate target,” Katja said, feeling a familiar anger start to rise. “My orders were clear.”
“Yes, of course, and you’re very good at what you do.”
The subtleties of wordplay had never been Katja’s strength, and not even all her augmentations had made her feel any better equipped for this sort of combat.
“We all have our strengths, Mun-Hee,” she said, and she started walking again, quickly reaching the lift. When it arrived, she found herself sharing it with a maintenance tech she’d seen before. He was about her age, and quite handsome in an intelligent way. SFHQ staffed their facility with the very best of Terran citizens, and Katja was reasonably certain that intelligence and skillset weren’t the only requirements for his employment.
However, the lift arrived at her floor before she could figure out how to engage the tech in casual conversation. Still, she tucked the idea away for future exploration.
The operational level was hard and metallic, with square corridors and soft artificial light which cast no shadows. Uniformed personnel strode by purposefully, nodding politely to her and staying clear of her path. Katja felt her entire mindset shift, as dormant parts of her brain activated, and she sifted through the gentle waves of information on Terra and the colonies.
The door to Briefing Room Three loomed on the right. She mentally transmitted a clearance request and the door hissed open in response. Inside, seated at the large conference table, was her frequent mission partner, Suleiman Chang.
He nodded to her in greeting, deep-set eyes giving only a glint of comradeship in his otherwise stoic expression. His broad features were plain, his skin the common, deep brown of so many humans. It was his size that made him stand out in a crowd, and even seated his vast bulk dominated the space. They had led a strike team and a platoon together at the outbreak of the war, and had forged the kind of fellowship considered necessary for an operative team.
“Good morning, Katty,” he rumbled.
“Morning, Sules. How long have you been back?”
“Ten days. It’s been nice. I finally tried out the climbing wall.”
“We exercise enough by decree—why would you choose to do more?”
“Would you rather hear me sing?”
Katja’s main form of recreation was to polish her skill as a coloratura soprano. She eyed him up and shrugged.
“You might have a wicked bass hiding in that barrel chest of yours.” His features shifted marginally into what she’d come to recognize as amusement. Other than a slight dip of his eyelids, he offered no further comment.
The door hissed open again, revealing Brigadier Alexander Korolev, the head of Special Forces. Katja instinctively rose to her feet and heard Chang doing the same.
“Relax,” Korolev said, waving them back to their chairs. He sat across from them, glancing at each of them with his usual, mild expression. “Are you ready to receive?”
“Yes,” Katja said, and Chang echoed her reply.
She withdrew those parts of her mind which had been surveying the information flow, and focused her attention on the commander. He began with high-level data, framing a scenario, then drilled down deeper into specifics. Katja queried when necessary, asking multiple questions along different paths and listening to Chang’s questions while still receiving the main feed.
Korolev seemed to partition as he addressed multiple questions simultaneously, drawing connections between dispersed facts and revealing the patterns of the situation. It was enough to require a three-hour briefing, yet in real time it took about ten seconds.
Katja sat back, feeling sudden tension.
Centauri spies were still active in Terra—no surprise there, since espionage was their most effective weapon—but a changing pattern was emerging. They were becoming more aggressive against Terran soft targets, focusing on key figures who supported the war behind the scenes. Two wealthy businessmen with large government contracts had recently died under mysterious circumstances, and an accident had befallen a senior advisor to the Minister of Defense.
Any bureaucracy was vulnerable to inertia and incompetence, if not properly led and directed by key individuals. Now the Centauris seemed to be trying to cripple the Terran government by removing those who kept it functioning effectively.
Disparate sources suggested where the latest Centauri cell was operating, and another attack was expected soon, this time against a senior advisor to the smallest Parliamentary party in the government coalition. A lucky intercept of Centauri data had given an exact time and place. At least two agents were involved, although how they planned to carry out their assault remained a mystery.
Katja and Chang were assigned to protect that advisor, a middle-aged woman named Sarah Goldberg, and capture or kill the Centauri spies.