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Decker tossed a flat rock at the clear mountain tarn, grunting with satisfaction when it skipped five times before sinking. Two days had passed since his frantic run up the Yangtze River, and Talyn had taken him out on a walk in the woods behind the ruined L’Taung fortress. They needed a place to speak where none of Verrill’s people could overhear them.
Though alien, the Garonne forest had an eerie beauty that soothed the eye and gave the two operatives a rare moment of peace. Small creatures skittered in the undergrowth, some poking triangular heads through the tall grass to briefly examine the intruders before deciding they were neither prey nor predator.
A faint scent of herbs, both sweet and savory wafted on the sunny morning air, and there was nothing within sight or earshot to indicate they weren’t the only humans on the planet.
Zack wiped his hands on his trousers and sat on the fallen tree trunk beside his partner who was enjoying the warmth of the sun on her face after days stuck inside the cold rebel lair.
“Did you find anything interesting while I was gone?” He pulled a coffee bulb from his pack, opened it, and took a tentative sip. “Not bad. Not the real stuff, but not bad.”
She reached for the bulb and tasted it herself.
“It’s what I was putting down my gullet twenty hours a day during your little jaunt to Iskellian. It may not taste like much, but it works.” She handed the bulb back to Decker.
“I haven’t been able to drill down into the more heavily encrypted parts of their database, but what I found proves that there’s a lot of money flowing into the rebellion’s coffers. A heck of a lot. More than they could ever raise through contributions from the colonists or even the gaggle of off-world supporters who’ll feed the kitty of any organization trying to stick it to a home world.”
“So they have a couple of rich uncles in the Senate.” Decker finished his coffee and tucked the empty container back into his pack.
“No uncles are that rich, Zack. Whoever is funding the independence movement has to be expecting a quid pro quo at some point.”
“Evidently.” He opened a small package containing pastries freshly baked that morning. “Croissant?”
“Sure.” She took the proffered confection and nibbled on one end. “Very nice.”
“From what I saw of the militia, compared to other shitholes on the rim, they’re not suffering for lack of funds either. The skimmer I stole was almost brand new, not some clapped out piece sold down the line by the Constabulary after they rode it into the ground. Ditto for the interrogation gear and the weaponry. The colonial government has some rich uncles too.”
“They’ve got Celeste funding them, remember?”
“Normal pattern is militias get the hand-me-downs from the guard. They’re not playing with big brother’s old toys. I’ll bet if I took stock of their armory, I’d find stuff that goes for top price. That got me to thinking about why Celeste is so keen to hold on to a place that can support itself but doesn’t produce all that much to earn hard export currency. It doesn’t seem worth the hassle, especially once the Senate gets off its duff and takes a hard look at Garonne’s development status.”
Decker fell silent, staring at the pond while he slowly chewed.
“You heard that the militia has been running rampant through the Tianjin district for the last day or so?” He asked after a while.
“Yup. You embarrassed them and made the buggers look ridiculous so they’re working hard to get fear back into the colonists.”
“That’s going to backfire. It always backfires. Harend can’t be much of a strategist if he figures it’ll do them any good in the long run.”
“We all have our blind spots,” Talyn pointed out, “and most people lose their objectivity when they’re made to look foolish.”
“It won’t end well for anyone.” He shook his head. “I’m getting that sweet, sweet sensation of déjà vu all over again. Pour a lot of money into a place where both sides have drawn bloody battle lines, and you will get civil war. Verrill’s generous funding allows him to buy massive amounts of modern weaponry and the militia’s getting new toys. The math isn’t hard to do, Hera.”
“Why all the money?” She pulled out her water bottle and washed down the last of the croissant.
“That’s the question, isn’t it?” He watched a couple of small critters cautiously approach the far side of the pond. “You’d think if Celeste wanted to hold on to Garonne they’d do something smarter than letting the likes of Rika Kozlev satisfy her perversions on the backs of civilians.”
“Nasty customer?”
“She’s what you might have become if you’d given into the ugly side of your nature. She crossed the line you didn’t and at high speed too. I’m usually not that choosy when it comes to playing, but just one glance into her eyes shriveled me up.”
“Coming from you, that says something.” She smirked at her partner.
“I’ll bet her dungeon is filling up with suspects right now and by the laws of probability, they’ll haul in someone who knows enough to give the militia a thread to pull on.”
“And then things start getting out of hand.”
“That’s the typical pattern when it comes to colonial wars. They start off small and then some get too big to contain,” he replied.
“When that happens, in come the Marines, up goes the system blockade...”
“And the Fleet gets sucked into a quagmire that distracts it for years and earns it new enemies from among the independence-minded systems. Shit.” Decker swore. “That has to be it.”
They contemplated the shimmering surface of the tarn in silence until Talyn spoke again.
“I can think of another possibility.”
“And what would that be?”
“There’s at least one L’Taung site on Garonne – we’re living in it right now – which means that there are probably a lot more that haven’t been found yet.”
“So someone’s trying to fight a proxy war to secure control over those sites? Why?”
Talyn picked a blade of grass and rolled it between her slender fingers.
“Seventy-odd years ago, so the top secret, never to be declassified report says, the Fleet set up shop on a L’Taung site in the Arietis system where they found artifacts, some of which apparently were still in working condition. Imagine if the same exists here on Garonne. The value to whoever took possession would be incalculable.”
“Bullshit.” Decker laughed. “Nothing could stay in working condition after a hundred thousand years.”
“What if the proto-Shrehari developed a form of stasis that did just that? Most of the scientists who’ve been studying the sites found in the last few decades figure they were more advanced than we or their descendants, the modern Shrehari, are.”
“What happened to the Arietis site?”
“It was destroyed in a reiver attack and abandoned. As a matter of fact, Admiral Dunmoore was there, according to the report I read.”
“Really?” He looked at his partner, eyebrows raised. “And why is the report top secret never to be declassified if we’ve found other remains since then?”
“Politics, what else?” Talyn stood and stretched. “There was a movement afoot to overthrow the government because of its mishandling of the war and some senior officers were deeply involved, including the admiral responsible for the Arietis site.”
“Oh.” He frowned for a moment. “Say, I forgot to mention this, but I think there’s a site right beside the town of Kaholo, where Kari Takan and I got taken by the militia.” He went on to describe the overgrown mesa. “Considering that it’s the only pimple in an otherwise flat area and has a top flat enough to land a starship...”
“So you’re saying my theory has validity.” She smiled down at him.
“I’m saying it has some merit, but I still can’t see how ancient piles of rock warrant feeding massive amounts of off-world money to both sides of what’ll quickly turn into a nasty war.” He rose and wiped debris from the seat of his pants.
“So you’re sticking to your theory?” She teased.
“I prefer to let the big brains in the analysis section figure that one out. In the meantime, I’m more worried about things spiraling out of control around here. Once the militia decides that they have to crack down the hardest with the mostest and Verrill’s rebels decide to strike back just as hard, the colonists in the middle are going to die in job lots.”
“No arguments from me.”
“So far, neither side has pushed real hard. Verrill’s still hoping to put enough pressure on the government to come to a negotiated solution, and Cedeno doesn’t want to risk outside intervention because things went sideways and out of his control. My gut tells me they’re both about to lose control of their respective forces and then...”
He let is voice drift off before continuing.
“As the saying goes, if you make peaceful change impossible then violent change becomes inevitable.”
“Don’t let your nightmares of other times and other planets influence your judgment, Zack.” She gently touched his arm.
“Those other times and other planets all ended up with piles of innocents bleeding out their last on the farms they’d carved from an alien landscape, not to speak of all those good Marines ending up in body bags because they tried to stop the killing. If there’s the slightest chance we can help avoid it by short-circuiting the long, deadly spiral into full-out war, then we have to act.”
Talyn shook her head.
“We’re hunter-gatherers, Zack, not knights in powered armor speeding to the rescue. Our job is to hunt for bad guys and gather intelligence so that the knights can do their jobs.”
“By the time the Senate authorizes Fleet intervention, especially if the rich uncles throwing money at both sides like drunken spacers are political, it’ll be too late.”
“We cannot get involved in this fight without authorization, Chief Warrant Officer Decker.”
“Tell me this, Commander Talyn,” he replied, a sly smile slowly spreading across his square face, “who’s the senior Commonwealth Ground Forces officer on Garonne?”
She stared at him momentarily, and then shook her head.
“Oh no. You don’t get to play barracks lawyer with me, mister. If you’re the senior ground forces officer, then I’m the senior naval officer for the entire Garonne system and still your superior.”
“So use your initiative, senior naval person. We’re out of contact with HQ and have a unique opportunity to make sure the mistakes of the past don’t infest this lovely place.”
“If I order you not to, you’re going to do it anyway, right?” Talyn sighed. “And one of the first lessons they teach at the Academy is never give an order you know isn’t going to be obeyed.”
“What if I told you I think the Coalition is behind the growing mess here? Would that be incentive enough?”
She was brought up short by his words and went back through all the intelligence she’d gathered. After almost a minute, Talyn met her partner’s eyes and nodded.
“Plausible. What prompted that leap of logic? Fomenting rebellion on the colony of a planet whose government plays nice with the Coalition, based on all of the intelligence reports I’ve read, is a departure from their usual modus operandi.”
“Cui bono?” He raised his arms, palms facing upwards and cocked an eyebrow. “Who, of any group we know, would profit from ensnaring the Fleet in a nasty colonial war on the Rim? Who would profit from laying the blame for war crimes on the Fleet? Heck, who would profit from distracting our admirals and generals for a few years?”
“The Shrehari?’ She asked, just for devilment’s sake. “Some of them are still smarting from the armistice we forced on the Empire seventy years ago.”
“Possible, but my instincts tell me this is homebrewed. The Shrehari never got a good understanding of how the human brain works, or doesn’t work, as they case may be, and this smells of basic mass psychology. I’m telling you, it’s our Coalition friends.”
“And distracting the Fleet by setting the Rim on fire gives them room to advance their schemes.” Talyn nodded. “Sadly, your theory is probably the right one.”
“It is, and I don’t want to end up serving a human empire controlled by the likes of the late Harmon Amali and his buddies. For all its imperfections, the Commonwealth is still a damn sight better. The way to stop them is to stop this war, here and now.”
Talyn glanced at the smooth surface of the pond, wondering how her rough and tumble Marine partner had become a perceptive intelligence officer without her noticing.
“I suppose you have a plan, otherwise proposing to put this planet under your remit as senior ground forces officer rings kind of hollow.”
“But of course.” The grin widened. “Decapitation. Swift, hard and, compared to any other alternative, clean. I’ve seen how their HQ folks react when things suddenly go to hell. Lay it on them hard and fast, right in their safe space and they’ll crumble.”
When he finished outlining his idea, Talyn was forced to admit that decapitation had a chance of succeeding. And if it did, it would bring the Garonne rebellion to a swift end in favor of the independence movement without sucking in a Marine division or two along with a few naval battle groups who’d be better employed keeping the star lanes safe from marauders.
Selling the idea to Verrill and the rest of the rebellion’s leadership would be another issue altogether.
“We’ll propose it,” she said, “but if they reject the plan, we stick to our hunter-gatherer job and collect enough proof to give our bosses back home leverage to force a resolution.”
She waited until he nodded his acceptance of her terms, but she wasn’t finished.
“If Verrill agrees, we’ll help with the planning, but we will not get involved in the fighting. The optimum outcome is the independence movement succeeding in such a way that the Fleet can never be accused of aiding them, much less be seen fighting on their side. If the Coalition is behind this and can accuse the Armed Services of favoring rebellion in the colonies, the damage could be just as severe as a full intervention.”
“I doubt that. The bastards wouldn’t creep out from whatever swamp they own and point a finger at the Grand Admiral. Not after you and I have proved to them the Fleet can and will sic its hunters on their leadership if they go too far. I bet there’s still a bunch of people called Amali who look over their shoulders every few seconds in fear that they might share the fate of the last two heads of the family.”
“Perhaps, but we will not get involved in the fighting, understood. You may be the de facto senior grunt on Garonne, but that doesn’t mean HQ will endorse exceeding the limits of our mission parameters by actively shooting at government forces.”
“Too late for that, remember?” Decker picked up his pack and headed towards the trail leading back to the base. “There are a dozen militia corpses that say I’ve already begun fighting.”
“As a freelancer called Bill Whate.” She caught up with his long stride. “And that’s how it’ll stay.”
When he didn’t answer she said, “The expected response is aye, aye, sir.”
“Yes, sir. I understand, sir. I will adapt and overcome as the situation warrants, sir.” He made a face at Talyn, proving that even though he’d matured as an intelligence officer, the warrior with a volatile temper still lurked below the surface.
“This Captain Kozlev character really got to you, didn’t she?”
“Not to the extent she did with those who suffered through her interrogation techniques, or the ones who will until we put an end to this garbage. Maybe I’ll stay out of the fight, but if I get my hands on Kozlev...”
**
“I’m very troubled by the recent events, Colonel Harend.” Governor Cedeno looked up from the report with a frown on his pinched face. “I fail to understand how a rebellion that was supposedly weak and uncoordinated could carry out such a coup.”
“The individual who escaped with the Takan girl, variously known as Skeen or Whate, seems to be a highly trained operative, possibly even Fleet, sir. It’s the only explanation.”
Harend stood in the parade rest position in front of the governor’s desk like a junior officer about to be read the riot act.
“Perhaps.” Cedeno sat back and studied Harend’s face. “But that’s not what troubles me, Colonel. Nor are the casualties the man caused when he broke out, or the fact that he rescued the daughter of the first real lead into the independence movement’s leadership that we’ve ever had. No, what troubles me is how the rebellion was able to organize a well-equipped force to cover the escape and do so in the space of a few hours. Weak and uncoordinated? I doubt the assessment still holds true if it ever did. Five combat cars totaled. They were almost new and cost a fortune. The home world won’t be happy when I ask for more money to buy replacements.”
“We know from radio intercepts that this Whate character got in touch with the rebellion shortly after he escaped. That gave their leadership plenty of time to activate armed cells throughout the countryside, cells we didn’t suspect existed.”
“Obviously.” Cedeno’s irritation, never far from the surface, rang out clearly in that single, dismissive word.
Harend’s face tightened.
“It won’t happen again, sir. We’re searching everything and everyone along the escape route. I can assure you that we will find those who shot down our cars and bring them in. My intelligence officer is confident that we’ll be able to make a serious dent in the rebel infrastructure along the Yangtze River and in the Tianjin district in particular.”
“Take care that they don’t make another dent in your infrastructure, Colonel. If they can afford to abandon their weapons after turning them into IEDs for your troops to find, they must feel quite confident about their supply lines. And do try to keep Captain Kozlev on a tight leash. I’m well aware that her methods sometimes border on the illegal. A few questionable actions might pass. Too many of them and someone will take notice. Neither of us wants that. Nor do we want a growing population in your stockade, so make sure those you do arrest can actually be connected to the rebellion.”
“Yes, sir,” Harend replied, suppressing his growing anger at the governor’s didactic tone. “I can guarantee that they’ll be connected to the rebellion once we’re done with them.”
“I’m not sure I like your tone, Colonel.”
The two men stared at each other, neither willing to be the first to break eye contact.
“And I don’t appreciate your innuendo concerning one of my subordinates, sir.”
“It’s not innuendo when there have been at least three cases in the last month where a detainee vanished into your headquarters, never to re-appear.” Cedeno waved towards the door. “You’re dismissed.”
Biting back a sudden flare of rage, Harend saluted then turned on his heels with parade ground precision and marched out of the large office.
If it weren’t for Cedeno’s orders restricting his prosecution of independence movement supporters, the damned off-world pro might never have had the ground support that saved his worthless ass. They would have recovered Kari Takan, which would have made the current raids against suspected rebel cells that much more precise, less bloody and with less collateral damage.
On the other hand, blooding his troops might just provide additional motivation and draw in new recruits. It was an ill wind that brought no one any good.
He walked out of the governor’s residence just in time to see a freighter land at the spaceport south of Iskellian. It reminded him that there was still an armed starship in the service of the rebellion hidden somewhere in the highlands. If it weren’t for the need to deal with recent events, they might have found it by now and really hurt the bastards, perhaps even crewed it with their own people so he didn’t have to rely on mercenaries who ran the moment someone shot a few missiles up their skirts.
The idea that control of events might begin to slip from his grasp never occurred to Harend. For him, the rebellion was still a nuisance force made up of farmers, failures, and off-world adventurers, notwithstanding their propensity for good marksmanship and grasp of effective IED construction.
His militia, though its faults were many, was still a force with professionals at the helm, and it would get better at counter-insurgency faster than the insurgents got better at fighting back. He had staked his hopes of promotion on it and he would see it through, Cedeno’s delicate sensibilities notwithstanding.
His eyes were drawn to the arrival of a combat car across the square. It stopped by the side door of the main headquarters building and disgorged a trio of green-clad troopers who then pulled two struggling civilians from the crew compartment.
He knew Kozlev would let them marinate for a while before introducing herself. Perhaps he’d join her later today. His anger at Cedeno had woken a nasty streak within him that might only be assuaged by the sight of some rebel sympathizers laid low under Rika’s tender mercies.
