A Quiet Little War Part I: Revelations

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A Quiet Little War Part I: Revelations

by baybelletrist

Rated: M

Summary: When a cargo ship is attacked in a remote area of space, the Series Five Rangers investigate. What they find leads them on a disturbing trail of secrets and lies to a danger none of them expected.

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Chapter 1: Prologue

Sun Garden Mall

Phoenix, Arizona

12/21/2098

 

 

Crowds streamed along the sunlit sidewalks. Traffic moved sluggishly through the congested streets. The small, pale-blond girl in the bright red coat moved easily among the holiday shoppers with their bundles and bags. She pulled behind her by the hand a woman bundled in a heavy brown overcoat.

"Stop sulking," the girl said over her shoulder. She spoke with a crisp authority that contrasted oddly with her age, for she looked no more than eight years old. "I have a job to do, and I don't have time for your prejudices."

The woman kept silent, but the corners of her mouth twitched downward. The child's lips tightened, and suddenly the woman gasped and started.

"People remember an angry face," the girl said. "Smile. If you can't smile, look tired. I'm told tired is normal this time of year."

The woman bit her lip. Her face assumed a more neutral expression.

"Better."

They waited at a corner for the light to change, and the girl let her eyes rove over the crowds. Her nose wrinkled very slightly. :They're like so many sheep.:

:What were you expecting, Winter? A city full of geniuses?:

Winter's lips twitched in a smirk. :Not likely! Have the spotters seen them yet?:

:They're exactly on time.: Susanna's mindvoice held a wealth of sarcasm. :Just what we've been led to expect of Galaxy Ranger Captain Zachary Foxx. They're using the east entrance to the mall. The four Rangers... plus Foxx's two kids.:

:Am I supposed to imprint the kids, too?: The light changed, and Winter stepped forward, tugging her escort, Lucinda, behind her. As they were passing, a tall woman in a red hat looked down at Winter and smiled before glancing at Lucinda.

"Looks like your little girl is very eager to do her Christmas shopping."

Winter let her face round in a beaming smile as she squeezed her escort's hand in a warning. Susanna's voice sniggered in her head.

:Of course you're supposed to imprint the kids. What a cow! That hat is perfect for tossing into the street... There's a truck coming.:

Lucinda spoke at the same moment. "She does like her shopping." Her voice held just the right measure of affection tempered by weariness. She reached forward and stroked Winter's pale hair. Only Winter's telepathic gift betrayed the woman's revulsion; Lucinda was too experienced an operative, Winter knew, to let her feelings show in face, voice, or gesture.

:At least when she's "on.": Susanna's mental voice grew chilly. :I'd have done worse than just pinch her.:

As she and Lucinda passed the woman by, Winter sent the mental equivalent of a shrug. :It did the job. She remembered that there are worse things than touching one of us... Like quietly disappearing.: Winter let her eyes lose focus for a moment. :That woman's heart isn't in very good shape.: She let Lucinda take the lead and open the door of the shopping mall. Warm air billowed out, carrying the sounds of canned music and children's voices. Winter wrinkled her nose again.

:He says remember why you're there,: Minako cut in. :Teacher told him you were prying. And Teacher says be careful. This is very dangerous.:

Winter shrugged again and pushed ahead. She wended her way among more crowds of people, rubbing her forehead absently at the buzz generated by so many minds. The whole place was a nauseating array of color, light, and noise, a jarring contrast to the relative quiet of the training base. :You really couldn't get imprints through the video feed, Susanna?: she asked privately.

:No,: the older girl snarled on tightbeam, :I really couldn't. Patterns of ones and zeroes on a storage medium—there's no mind there to find! If they wanted imprints remotely they should have stolen personal items for you to snoop with.:

Winter flinched. :I'm sorry.: Through the general link, :Where are they?: 

:Foxx's kids asked to stop at the chocolate shop, seven doors in from the east entrance,: Susanna answered. :Foxx is inside with them and that woman. The freak and Hartford are just outside.:

Winter and Lucinda moved at a leisurely pace down the mall. From the corner of her eye Winter saw Lucinda, fully in character now, looking about as if considering where to go first. They kept moving at the same swinging stride, in and out of the crowds. Ahead, Winter saw the atrium where the four wings of the mall came together in a cross shape. At this time of year a huge artificial tree dominated the space. As they drew near she saw a line of children and adults, clearly queued up for something. Winter craned her neck to see and realized that the adults were waiting for the chance to put their children in the lap of an old, obese, white-haired man in a hideous red-and-white costume. :What is that? They call these people normals, but they're bizarre!:

:Winter!: Susanna's mental voice tightened. :The spotter thinks the freak's seen him. He's moving on. He wants to know if you can take it from here. The backup spotter says she'll need a few minutes to get into place.:

Winter and Lucinda rounded the crowd of children and parents, and in the distance Winter caught an unmistakable flash of auburn hair.

:Tell her not to bother. I've got them in line of sight.: 

She and Lucinda kept walking hand in hand, moving steadily toward the eastern end of the mall. As they approached the group, Winter stared, taking in impressions, sounds, feelings: 

The tall, wary blond man in black towered over the graceful woman with waist-length auburn hair who smiled up at him and then turned to accept a chocolate from the leggy brown-haired boy who looked so like the tall brown-haired man whose blue eyes laughed down at the golden-haired, ponytailed girl who held his hand and giggled helplessly at the joke the smiling brown-skinned man had just made...

Through the link, Winter felt Susanna smile.

:We have them. Come home, Winter.:

As Winter and Lucinda passed by, Ranger Niko of no family name looked around suddenly, as if someone had called her name. Winter smiled, already deep behind her shields, her grey eyes as chilly as the season. She looked up at Lucinda.

"Mission accomplished... Mommy."

Chapter 2

On board Ranger One

2/20/2099, 1437

 

 

"This is the Earth cargo ship Saoirse calling BETA. We have been attacked near the Brimstone System and left flying off course. Our ship's AI is in psychological distress. Request immediate assistance. Earth cargo ship Saoirse to BETA Mountain, request assistance. Please respond, repeat, please respond."

Tense and urgent, the woman's light alto voice held the rhythms of a native of Eire.

Commander Joseph Walsh, framed in the comm screen of Ranger One, touched a key on his desk and sat back in his chair. "The distress call came in twenty minutes ago. We've been unable to contact the Saoirse so far, but they're in an area near the Brimstone system that's known for interfering with radio transmissions. I know you're on your way home, but you're closer than any other unit, so I'm diverting you to investigate."

Zachary Foxx frowned. "They weren't very specific about the problem with their ship. Are we still trying to raise them?"

"Yes, Zachary. Lieutenant McIntyre is standing by, awaiting word from the comm center."

Shane Gooseman considered the recording. Brimstone System... Why's that familiar? "Commander, wasn't there some kind of trouble out that way not long ago?"

Walsh cocked an eyebrow. "You're familiar with the Diego Jihad?"

It clicked in Goose's mind, and with the name came memories of an old briefing. "Basically," he answered. "Some kind of local religious revolt on Brimstone that kicked up a couple years back, wasn't it?"

"The founders of Brimstone were peaceful, deeply religious, and committed to building a society not dependent on high technology," Niko said softly. Goose heard a thread of anger in her voice. "They didn't consider technology evil; they just wanted a simpler way of life. They were considering joining the League when the Diego Jihad started. The Jihad bombed settlements and archaeological sites, murdered civilians, and seized control of the system before the League could agree on a course of action. They're—well, they're not completely anti-technology; they just consider some high technology—like AI's, genetic engineering, and the like—an abomination. Anything that could be interpreted as 'playing God,' essentially. They have no problem with radios and spacecraft, though." She paused. "Or bombs."

Walsh cleared his throat, and Niko fell silent. "As a result of the incident, there's a no-fly zone around the Brimstone system, authorized by the Board of World Leaders and the League of Planets," Walsh said.

"Not that a no-fly zone really means squat in space," Goose noted. "Space is so damn big that effective blockades become nearly impossible unless you've got a huge number of ships."

Walsh said, "True, Gooseman, but the PKF has managed to catch a few blockade runners closer to the planet, where they've concentrated their forces. In any case, there's some concern that the Saoirse may have violated the zone."

"But the peacekeeping forces have authorization to shoot down noncompliant ships," Zach pointed out. "The distress call said they were 'attacked and left flying off course,' whatever that means, not that they were shot up and left drifting. That tells me they're still in shape to fly. And they didn't report damage to the ship."

The wall screen blinked into life to display Sheela McIntyre, Walsh's adjutant. "Commander, incoming transmission from the communications center," she announced. The face of a comm center technician replaced Sheela's.

"Commander Walsh, we've managed to raise the Saoirse," the man said. "Patching through."

The screen flickered, fuzzed into static, and cleared. The sharp, tired face of a middle-aged human woman took shape. Her dark hair was cropped short in a spacer's cut.

"I'm Captain Dervla Brennan of the Saoirse," she said. "You are?"

"Joseph Walsh, commander of BETA," Walsh replied. "You have the Series Five Rangers on the other half of your screen. How can we help you, Captain Brennan?"

Relief softened Brennan's expression. "It looks like we were attacked  by pirates," she said. "We were traveling near the Brimstone system, well outside the no-fly zone, when the entire crew lost consciousness. When we all woke, the better part of our cargo was gone. But there's no trace of gas that we can detect, and no one's suffering the aftereffects of a stun blast. And I swear to you we weren't anywhere close to the zone."

Brennan hesitated. A brief burst of radio noise sent a line of static across her image. "That's not the strangest part. The attack was over six hours ago now, Commander Walsh, and our ship's AI has lost every bit of that time.  Aside from the theft, which we think could have been accomplished within two to three hours, we've no idea what happened in those missing six hours. None at all."

 

 

 

On board Saoirse

2/20/2099, 2151 BETA Mountain time

 

 

"Welcome aboard, Captain Foxx." Brennan shook his hand, her grip firm. "We're more than glad to see you, I can tell you. This is Iain MacInnis, my co-pilot." She tipped her head toward the short, wiry man with jet-black hair who stood at her elbow. MacInnis gave Zachary the briefest of nods and passed a quick, bright smile around the group.

Ranger One had made rendezvous with the Saoirse at the coordinates where the crew had regained consciousness. The two ships had docked without incident. The Series Fives and the Saoirse's officers stood now in a corridor just outside the ship's airlock.

Niko was already checking her handheld for readings; Goose, the only one in a pressure suit, looked ready to head right back out the airlock for his external inspection of the Saoirse's hull.

"Thanks, Captain," Zachary said. With a gesture, he indicated the rest of the Series Fives. "My team: Rangers Hartford, Niko, and Gooseman. Ranger Hartford will need to examine your ship's computer. We were told that was the first priority here; from the briefing we were given, I understand your AI isn't doing so well." 

"Indeed he's not, Captain Foxx. How d'you do, Rangers. Ranger Hartford, you'll be talking with Ben Woodhouse, our steward, quartermaster, and computer jockey," Brennan told Doc. "He's most likely in the processor bay—Ben!" she shouted down the corridor. "You've got your help!" Turning back to Doc, she continued, "Hope you've got plenty of practice with this sort of thing. Poor Seamus isn't feeling well at all. He's been saying he's sure he's off his nut. Losing time's bad enough for us humans, but an AI—" She shook her head. "The processor bay's in the aft of the ship on the port side." 

Doc swept her an extravagant bow. "The Doctor is on the case, ma'am." He sauntered away as Goose snorted softly.

"Captain, if you don't have anything else for me to do here, I'll head out," the Supertrooper said. "A cargo ship's got a lot of hull to go over."

"Go ahead, Gooseman. Keep in touch by comm."

Goose saluted and strode to the airlock.

"I've got more work below, as well," Iain MacInnes said. "Aine will still be wanting help, I imagine." He headed aft, turned through a hatch, and vanished from view.

"Problems?" Zach inquired.

Brennan grimaced. "When our AI, Seamus, realized we weren't where we were supposed to be, he had a sort of—fit—and threw us out of warp. The drive needed more than a bit of tuning. Aine ni Suileabhain, our bosun, has been swearing up a storm ever since she came to and heard how it sounded. Not that our medical officer Nuala is much happier, mind you, what with this blackout we all had. Thank God they're both down in engineering, or we'd all have blue ears."

Niko looked up from her scanner. "Captain Brennan," she said quietly, "I haven't picked up any residues of gas yet, but my scanner here isn't calibrated for ultrafine scans."

"I'll take care of that, Niko," Zach put in. "I brought the bigger scanner along. I've got something else in mind for you to do, if you're up for it." She nodded, understanding clear in her eyes, and the corner of Zach's mouth quirked. There are definitely advantages to having a telepathic team member. "Captain Brennan," he added, "where were you when you lost consciousness?"

"On the bridge." Brennan jerked her head toward the nose of the ship. "This way."

"I'll start here, Zach," Niko said. "I'll comm you if I need anything."

"Affirmative."

 

 

Zach frowned down at the scanner and looked around the tiny ship's galley. Same thing as on the bridge: a bit of ordinary knockout gas—and faint traces of MZ-9. Awfully well connected pirates... His wrist comm beeped, and he answered. "Foxx here."

Doc's face blinked into the screen. "Captain, this is the weirdest data swipe I've ever seen. You know Captain Brennan said the memory logs are missing six hours worth of data? Well, get this: the data wasn't just wiped off the memory core. Someone copied everything but those six hours of data onto an entirely new core, pulled the old one, and swapped in a new one. It's even a slight upgrade—they don't make the old model any more."

Zachary stared in blank bewilderment. "Why go to all that trouble? What's the point?"

"Well, you know when data's deleted off a storage medium, it's not really gone, right? It's just marked as available space for the next time the computer needs to store something, so it's possible to recover the deleted data. I guess someone wanted to make sure that couldn't happen. I mean, you can burn drives clean, but it takes hours, and they didn't have the time."

"Understood. Anything else?"

"Well, their flight data checks out; just like Captain Brennan said, they weren't inside the no-fly zone. For whatever that's worth. Does make it a lot less likely the peacekeeping forces could have seen anything, though. I know if I were gonna commit random or not-so-random acts of piracy and mayhem, I'd avoid peacekeeping forces at all costs."

"Thanks for the alert," Zach said dryly. "How's the AI?"

Doc leaned back and flexed his hands with a cracking of knuckles. "The Doctor has operated. Seamus is feeling much more the thing now, as he puts it. While I was in here, I even helped him work out a little twitch he'd developed—"

Zach cleared his throat, and Doc broke off. "Right," he said. "Sorry. You finding anything?"

"They used MZ-9; it's one of the newer military-grade stun gases."

"Hey, I do actually read briefings, you know. So we're definitely not talking just your average common crooks here. Weird. Where do pirates get hold of MZ-9?"

"I don't know," Zach said, "and I don't want to speculate." At least not where civilians can hear me, he thought.

Doc laid one finger alongside his nose and bobbed his head ironically. "Gotcha, Zach. Anyhow, I'm done here. Heading forward."

"Roger. Foxx out."

 

 

Niko stood just behind the pilot's chair on the bridge of the Saoirse, hand on the seat back. Doc lounged against a console nearby, while Zachary stood just by the hatch. Dervla Brennan sat sideways in her seat, head canted sideways to look up at Niko, and watched, curiosity plain in her eyes.

Niko touched the badge at her belt. Her face grew still and intent. "They came through the hatch," she said softly. "Three of them. They never took their p-suits off. I can't see their faces. Injections. They used drugs on the crew to keep them unconscious." Niko closed her eyes in concentration; opened them again. "Captain Brennan, I know Dr. Casey did exams of all the crew members, but did she look at their skin from head to toe?" 

"Only the standard exam, ma'am. It's needle marks we'll have to look for, then?" 

"Yes," Niko said. "And I think taking blood samples would be a good idea. Some drugs leave traces our forensics teams can detect."

Brennan touched the communicator at her wrist and began quietly to issue orders. 

"Anything else, Niko?" Zach asked, keeping his voice low. 

"They came through the airlock, I saw that out in the corridor... And from what I saw in the computer room, one of them did something with the memory core, but we knew that already."

The three looked at each other.

"Let's see what Goose has to say," Niko suggested. "Maybe he'll have the final piece of the puzzle."

 

 

Goose took off his helmet and hung it by the hatch of the airlock. "I've got images for you, Zach," he said, and unclipped his handheld from its holder on his thigh. He held it out and pointed at the image on the screen. Craning his neck, Zach made out a small, round mark just beyond Goose's gloved fingertip. Brennan's bosun stepped forward to peer around Goose's other side.

"They landed a drone on the exterior of the hull, burned through it—probably with a laser—and pumped gas through the breach," Goose said. "They sealed it with the right stuff—looks like professional work. You can see minor scuffing to the enamel here, here,  and here"—the finger tapped the screen—"where the drone's landing gear made contact. If I hadn't been taught how to find that specific kind of damage, I'd have passed over that hole as just another ding from space junk."

Aine ni Suileabhain swore. "Drill holes in my hull, will they?"

"Calm down, Aine," Dervla Brennan ordered. "The Rangers will find the parties responsible or they won't. Be glad Ranger Gooseman saved you the trouble of inspecting the hull yourself."

"It gets better," Goose said. "A drone like this one will usually use that same hole to plug itself into the internal computer network of the ship it's disabling. I'm guessing it launched cracking software to lock down your AI before it actually started pumping the gas—to keep the AI from alerting the crew the atmo was going bad, or from calling for help."

Brennan looked aghast. Ni Suileabhain's face flushed an angry red.

"They were mighty thorough," Doc said. "If Niko couldn't see their faces, neither could the security cameras. From what Goose said, I bet they sent that drone ahead to gas the crew before they even warped out, so none of the crew members could have seen anything on scans or cameras. Same deal goes for Seamus. Poor guy. Not that we'd know if he had seen anything—that missing memory core is the only place you'd find sensor readings, long-range scans, anything that covered the time after the crew passed out but before the pirates boarded."

 Goose thumbed a key on the handheld. "By the way, I noticed a couple of places where the hull's gonna need patching in the next several months," he said to ni Suileabhain. "You want the data?"

The Irishwoman's face grew a bit less grim. "Yes, thanks. I hate doing EVAs, if you want the truth. Can you just beam it over to Seamus, please?" 

Goose hit another key. "Got it. Zach, what's next?"

Zachary stared down at the screen of his handheld. "I think we've picked up all the data we can here," he said. "Captain Brennan, if there's anything else BETA can do to assist you, please let us know. Please be sure to have Dr. Casey follow up with BETA medical regarding the blood tests—plus our docs recommend full physical exams for everyone the next time you're at a port with a certified doctor. Commander Walsh has already told me that if you present yourselves at a BETA facility, there won't be a charge for the exams."

Brennan nodded. "Many thanks, Captain Foxx," she said. "We're grateful for your help." She offered her hand, and they shook.

Zachary looked around at his team. "We've got the coordinates for the site where the Saoirse was ambushed," he said. "Let's go take a look."

Chapter 3

On board Ranger One

Site of the attack on the Saoirse

2/21/2099, 0129 BETA Mountain time

 

 

Doc looked up from his screen. "Well, this is a whole lot of nothing," he complained. "We're outside the no-fly zone, there's no debris, and this is one of the least-used shipping lanes in the entire darn League of Planets. GV, are you having any more luck?" 

"Yes, sir," GV answered. "I've been scanning this entire area since we warped out. As you requested, I concentrated on traces left by drive activity. It appears that an Andorian hyperdrive did indeed emerge from hyperspace within very close range of the Saoirse's last confirmed location."

Zachary sat up a little straighter. "An Andorian drive?" he demanded.

"Yes, sir," GV answered.

"Well, that eliminates Captain Kidd as a suspect," Goose noted.

"Yeah, but it brings in a whole boatload more," Doc said unhappily.

"There," GV said. "Ranger Hartford, I've taken the liberty of downloading the sensor logs to your handheld unit, and Ranger Niko's as well." 

"Thanks, GV," Niko said. "Good work."

"Guess we're done here, then," Doc said. "Hope we make it back to BETA in time for lunch."

 

 

 

Enroute to Earth

 

 

"So, Captain."

Zachary suppressed a smile. "So, Doc," he answered.

Niko, sitting in one of the rear pair of seats, giggled. "That opener won't work on  Zachary, Doc," she said teasingly. "Little Zach's used it once too often."

"Right. So, Zachary—" Doc looked over his shoulder and waggled his eyebrows at Niko, who laughed again—"I've been thinking, and I get the feeling you have a theory you're not sharing. Want to let the rest of us in on it? 'Cause you know that four heads are better than one."

Zachary, seated at the helm, hesitated. "Yes," he said slowly. "It's a touchy subject, though. I know I don't have to tell you all to keep this to yourselves."  Because unless we have hard evidence, all it would do is stir up trouble and cause hard feelings.

"Whatever it is, nobody's gonna hear it from me, my Captain," Doc assured him.

"What's up, Zach?" Goose asked. He unfastened his flight harness and came to lean on the back of Doc's seat.

"I think it starts with the question 'Where do pirates get hold of MZ-9?' And now that I think of it, there's also the one that goes, 'Why do they bother mixing it with regular knockout gas?'" said Doc.

"That last—" Zach said. "I'd guess the attackers were either trying to cover their tracks or stretching their supply of it, maybe both. MZ-9 is in use right now because it dissipates faster than other gases, so troops using it to deal with riots can move in more quickly after deploying it. If we hadn't been on the way home from another mission and in this general area, we might not have gotten here in time for our scanner to pick up the traces. It's also not being manufactured at very many labs right now, so there isn't a lot of it in circulation yet."

 "While we're at it, I've been wondering just what kind of pirate goes to so much trouble not to kill people," Goose said. "I didn't want to say anything in front of the Saoirse crew, but you all remember that hit out near Granna? I had to scrub down three times to get the smell out of my nose. You know as well as I do that that's a lot more typical. "

"Are we sure it was pirates?" Zach asked.

Doc's eyebrows shot upward. "What, you think it wasn't?"

"You said it yourself, Doc—where would pirates get MZ-9?"

"Well, who, then?" Niko asked.

"It's military grade. That suggests that either someone with access to the gas is selling it to pirates or—I don't like to say it—"

"Someone with access is picking up a little extra income on the side?" Goose said. "Now there's an ugly thought."

"Very," Zach agreed.

"Something else, Zach," said Goose. "Drones like the one I described earlier are damned expensive. Theoretically a bunch of pirates with a really good mechanic could salvage parts to build one, but you put it together with MZ-9 and your second theory starts looking more and more likely."

Niko leaned forward. "How are we going to proceed, Zach?"

"Carefully?" suggested Doc.

"I want to come at it from three directions," Zachary said. "We can try to find out if anyone's missing MZ-9. We can establish a list of everyone who has access and search through them for anyone with opportunity and motive—we'll have to cross-check to see who could have participated in the attack on the Saoirse. Finally, we can try to trace the stolen cargo."

"I can work on that first one," Doc said.

Zach involuntarily twitched in his seat.

"What!" Doc said defensively.

"Don't tell him any more, Doc," Goose advised. "Results are everything, method is best not talked about."

Zach ran a hand over his face. "I'm not listening," he muttered.

"It works better if you stick your fingers in your ears and say 'la la la,'" Doc said cheerfully. "It works great for Jessie."

The others burst out laughing.

"Gooseman, you'll assist me in working on the list of possible suspects," Zach said over the laughter. "Niko, you try to trace the stolen cargo."

"All right, Zachary," Niko said agreeably.

 

 

 

Series Five Rangers' office

2/22, 1116

 

 

The office was filled with the sounds of keyboards in use. From across the room, Doc heard Niko on the comm, starting her investigation on the Saoirse's cargo. Zach and Goose sat at their desks, complementary searches running in separate windows, each duplicated on the other's screen. Doc glanced over at a low-voiced command from Goose and watched Elma refine a search result to narrow the field.

Fingers flying, Doc routed requests for data, signed off by Zach, to the appropriate offices within BETA. His CDU rested on the desktop by his keyboard. "Searchlight," he said under his breath, "while we're waiting to hear back on those, have a look through incident reports from any agency that has access to MZ-9. See if there were any times when someone could have gotten to the stores, even if nothing's been reported. Dig?"

The little program flashed a brief acknowledgement in the corner of Doc's screen and was gone.

Doc turned his attention to the preliminary report he was writing on the previous day's findings. In only a few minutes more he had it finished, saved, and signed. "Zach, my Captain!" he called. "Sending my preliminary report on yesterday your way for your sig."

"Acknowledged, Doc," floated back. Doc caught a flash of green eyes as Goose shot him an evil look. Niko finished her call and started typing furiously.

Wait for it—

"Goose, Niko, I haven't seen preliminary reports from either of you two," Zach said. "Please have those to me by the end of the day today."

Doc grinned at Goose, whose glare deepened.

"And leave Doc alone."

Niko snickered. Goose looked disgusted.

"Hey, Doc!" Searchlight was bouncing lazily from one side of Doc's screen to the other, like a billiard ball on tranquilizers. "I got search results for the BETA incident reports, and a Space Navy AI answered one of your queries!"

Doc raised his eyebrows. "That was fast. What've you got?"

"I think he was bored, 'cause he was cranky, too. He says the Navy's not missing any MZ-9. We're not, either."

"Officially or unofficially?" Niko leaned back in her chair and turned her head to listen.

"Well, Searchlight?" Doc asked.

"BETA's not missing any, period," the tweaker answered. "We just did inventory last month and all of the canisters were accounted for. The armory's still under seal and Dorian says nobody's opened that locker since then. The Space Navy hasn't officially reported any missing."

"But—" Niko turned her chair toward Doc's desk. "Who else has access to MZ-9 besides the Ranger Corps, the Space Navy, and—" she broke off. "Oh, surely not. The Planetary Defense Corps? They have only a few deep-space vessels, and anyway—"

"And anyway, if you're real nice and hand 'em a map and a flashlight and maybe point 'em in the right direction," Goose drawled, "they can about find their asses with both hands."

"Gooseman!" Zach chided, but Doc, grinning himself, could see he was working to keep a straight face.

"You missed one," Doc said, growing serious. "The League Peacekeeping Forces."

There was a pause.

"Yeah," said Goose. "I wondered. But actually... we missed two."

Another pause. Zach looked blank, Niko wary.

"What would the Saoirse have to do with planetary security?" Doc asked dubiously, and saw Zach wince.

"Don't know," Goose answered. "But the Office sure seems to have all the resources it wants." He shrugged elaborately. "Just reminding you not to write off our pals in Texas, or whatever rock they're hiding under these days."

"Goose, we haven't narrowed the suspect pool enough to start drawing conclusions," Zach said. Glancing at Doc, he said, "But we can run a correlation among personnel in all of the service branches and see if we can use that to identify any persons of interest. Members of the PKF have certainly had more access to that sector of space than anyone from the Space Navy. As for finding out what the Office is doing, there's not much we can do about it, whether or not it's illegal, immoral, or just plain wrong. We don't have probable cause and they're not officially part of our jurisdiction. So let's get going on something that is." He turned back to work, and he and Goose took up a quiet back-and-forth conversation as they coordinated.

"Keep at the unofficial search, tweaker," Doc commanded softly. "You never know what might turn up."

Searchlight flashed an answer and was gone again.

 

 

 

Doc's quarters, BETA Mountain

2/22, 1927

 

 

Alone in his quarters, Doc danced the net.

Knock knock, Mr. Planetary Security, sir.

Through a back door that had taken days to establish, he slipped onto an old backup mainframe ostensibly owned by the Space Navy. What've we got? He requested a file list and snorted. Empty, my Aunt Sadie's biscuits. A flurry of keystrokes, and a small program came up. Doc watched in satisfaction as, byte by byte, it began recovering deleted files and copying their contents to one of his "bunkers"—triple-encrypted storage on obscure, half-forgotten servers sitting in the depths of BETA Mountain.

"Yeah," Doc said softly. "Come to Papa, all you beautiful scraps of data."

Mining for gold. I'll find you, you son of a—

The comm beeped for attention. Doc flipped his search into the background and brought up a nearly finished case report before answering. "Yeah, this is Doc."

The face of a young man in a tech's uniform formed on screen. "Hi, Ranger Hartford," he said, his tone clearly apologetic. "Sorry to call after hours."

"Bernard, my man! No problem. How's it going?"

"Weird, sort of. We're having this odd problem with the databases, and I've been working on it for almost my whole shift now. I was wondering if there was any way you could—"

"Sure could," Doc answered cheerfully, and opened a new session. "Tell me more."

 

 

 

Series Five Rangers' office

2/24, 1551

 

 

"All right," Zach said, looking around their conference table. "Let's hear summaries of everyone's findings so far. Doc?"

The hacker nodded. Zach noted that he looked a bit tired, as though he'd been getting too little sleep. "We know that BETA's supply of MZ-9 at Longshot is fully accounted for, and Security Chief Da Silva did a hand count to verify for us. Neither the Space Navy nor the Planetary Defense Corps have reported any missing. My unofficial queries have backed that up, but we're still waiting for word on a hand count. The Peacekeeping Forces haven't gotten back to us yet."

"Thank you," Zach said. "Niko?"

"Okay, Zachary," she said with a smile. "The Saoirse was carrying farming equipment and seed for Prairie, and heavy mining equipment, food concentrates, and a small cargo container of luxury items for the asteroid belt out at C-44. The seed and the food concentrates I haven't been able to trace yet. There are signs that the farming equipment may have ended up on the gray market on Tuscaloosa, but I'm still waiting for word back from the local sheriff. The mining equipment is sitting in impound on Mesa while the commander goes round with local law enforcement and also with the sheriff in Fort Windham on Nebraska—the suspect is wanted on smuggling charges there, too, and Commander Walsh is working out who's going to get him first. The luxury items were the easiest to trace, oddly enough—it was mostly midgrade alcohol, and someone tried to relabel it and pass it off as high-grade on Mars, of all places."

"You're kidding," Doc said in disbelief.

"Nope," she answered cheerfully. "Sometimes they really are that stupid."

Goose laughed. "What'd they do, try to sell not-so-fine liquor to a fancy restaurant?"

"Yes!"

He stopped laughing and looked startled. "You're kidding."

Niko burbled with laughter over Doc's quiet, "Hey, my Goose man, that was my line."

"Career criminals they ain't," Goose said. "So the cops there are sweating the fence?"

"Yes, but they're ready to hand over the suspects to BETA at any time," she answered. "It doesn't look like they're behind the attack, though—they both swear up and down that they bought the wine from the fence, and she corroborates their story. I've requested access to question her, but I told the detective in New Pigalle we shouldn't need to talk to the rest unless there are any new developments. The smuggler on Mesa used an anonymous drop—part of a warehouse."

"Dead end?" Zach asked.

"I'm not sure yet. I'll let you know."

"Good work, Niko," Zach said, and nodded to Goose to report for the both of them.

"Zach and I sifted through files on people who might've been able to get access to supplies of MZ-9," Goose said. "We eliminated anyone with a verifiable alibi, which was almost all of 'em, and ran cross-checks for motive and opportunity. We've narrowed it down to about a dozen people—nine PKF and four Space Navy. One of the PKF probably has an alibi, but we haven't been able to confirm it yet. All nine of them are posted out at the Brimstone no-fly zone. The four Navy are still on the list because they are each other's alibis."

"What about cross-checking that with my data?" Niko asked.

"Elma's working on it now."

Zach said, "That's as far as we can take this investigation until Doc and Niko get answers to their inquiries. I don't want to start interrogating suspects until we narrow the field as much as we can first. This case has a lot of potential for stirring up friction between the PKF and Navy and the Ranger Corps, and none of us need that." He pushed his chair back and stood.

"Nice work, people.  Carry on."

Chapter 4

Series Five Rangers' office

2/25, 0809

 

 

"So I've been nosing around for a while, digging up whatever I could on our old friends from the Office of Planetary Security, and I figured you all might like an update." 

Doc's teammates broke off their tasks and stared at him. Niko looked startled, Zachary resigned, and Goose—Goose just looked interested.

Well, that got their attention, Doc noted, exercising all his control not to smirk. He leaned back in his chair, enjoying their reactions, and fiddled with his CDU. "Let's see... Looks like they're doing weapons research, including nanotechnology and biowarfare. They're sponsoring research into ship and drive design—guess they want to build a better warship. And best of all, they're digging up dirt on everyone from the Queen to the Andorian and Kiwi ambassadors." 

"They're spying on our allies?" Zach nearly shouted. "That's disgusting!" 

"Relax, Zach," Goose said quietly. "It's not all that unusual. 'Course, there's no way they'd stand for the Andorians or the Kiwis spying on us." 

"It's an outrage," Zach said just as quietly, his face tight with anger. 

Goose raised his hands in a shrug. "Hey, I never said it was ethical. It stinks, but what are we gonna do, go tell them to stop poking through Waldo's underwear drawer?" 

Doc wrinkled his nose. "I could have lived happily for the rest of my life without ever thinking of Waldo's underwear drawer, my Goose man."

"Doc," Niko put in, "Have you found any more background information about Gaea? And is there any evidence to suggest they're still looking for her?" 

Doc shifted uncomfortably as Goose pinned him to his chair with a cold green look. "I... haven't found anything," he said. "But that doesn't mean there's nothing to find. Don't worry—if there is anything, I'll dig it up eventually."

"What about the technology they used to keep Gaea from sensing them?" Niko asked.

"I thought you said that might just have been stress," Doc protested.

"I said I wasn't sure," Niko countered. "And she said she sensed out her apartment fairly carefully before she went in. It just didn't feel right to me. Her training was incomplete, yes, but she seems—seemed—to be fairly practiced at sensing people. It kept her alive while she lived on the street, if you'll recall."

"Okay, okay..." Doc held up his hands in self-defense. "But no, I haven't found anything. I'll keep an eye out."

"Have you heard anything from the commander about the watch list you generated last August?" asked Zach.

"Uh... Belva told me a couple weeks ago she's still watching fourteen of them. She was able to eliminate a few right off the bat. The next few took a little longer, but none of them is our mole, either. I asked her to get back to me when she'd narrowed the field to under ten people. Just so you know, we're using the codename Earthmover for the list of suspects."

Zachary drew a deep breath and blew it out over Niko's soft groan. 

"What?" Doc asked, all innocence.

"That's a horrible play on words, Doc." But Niko was smiling.

"Thanks!" he answered with a wink.

"Thanks, Doc," said Zach. "Goose is right; there's probably not much we can do about any of it. But it's good to know about it. I'll pass it on to the commander in my next meeting with him." 

"Uh—" Doc licked his lips. "You going to tell him where you got this info?"

Goose snickered. Niko giggled. Zach raised an eyebrow.

"Never mind," Doc said with a sigh. "I should know better by now."

 

 

 

0831

 

 

"Yeah! Throw me a party!"

The other three Rangers looked up from their screens.

"Doc, what on earth," Zach said.

"It's official, my Captain: there's MZ-9 missing from the PKF's stockpile. So we can cross our Space Navy guys off the suspect list."

"Not so fast," Zach said. "It's possible, though not likely, that one of them could be working with one or more of the PKF suspects."

"No, Zach," Goose cut in. "I just finished typing this up: Elma's run the numbers, and the naval officers couldn't have made it out to Brimstone System, then to Mesa or Tuscaloosa—or even Mars, for that matter—and still been on time for duty the next morning. And they did all show up, so they're off the hook."

"That'll make Commander Walsh happy," Zach noted. "He wasn't looking forward to having to tell Admiral Blake that members of his service had done something like this. Niko, have you heard back from the police about the fence in the Mars case?"

"They said the suspect's being transferred here so we can interrogate her. ETA is around 1000, they said. I haven't heard back yet from the sheriff on Tuscaloosa, but he said he'd be able to get back to me by end of day today. And Commander Walsh is working out an extradition deal for the smuggler on Mesa. He said he hopes to have the man here by tomorrow, but that it may be faster for me to fly out there if the sheriff in Fort Windham won't agree to wait. The Nebraska charges are older, so I might just have to go."

BETA Mountain Holding Block, Interrogation Room 3

1345

 

 

Ying Toh. Age 41, unmarried, no children. Possession of stolen property, intent to sell stolen property, transporting stolen property across state lines, conspiracy, network fraud, identity fraud... Four arrests, no convictions.

As Goose might say, what a piece of work.

She looked up from her handheld to study the woman on the other side of the one-way glass. Ying Toh was doing her best to come across as tough and indifferent, but her body language told a different story. She was rather tall for a human of Asian background, nearly as tall as Niko, but with a stockier build that had been let run to a certain thickness about the middle. She wore her black hair in a spacer's crop. Her only claim to attractiveness lay in a pair of bright blue eyes, startling against the light golden skin.

Until her arrest two days ago, Niko noted, Toh's crimes had been handled by local police agencies on Mars. She probably never expected to run afoul of the Rangers, Niko thought. She was small fry and happy to stay that way. It shouldn't be hard to turn that to good account.

Niko let the door of the interrogation room close behind her and stood, arms folded, surveying the woman who sat sullenly behind the table. She let the silence stretch out, just watching as the suspect grew nervous and fidgety.

"Who're you?" the woman finally demanded, and Niko smiled and sat.

"I'm Ranger Niko, Ms. Toh," she said, setting her handheld on the table in front of her. "I have some questions for you."

"I'm not sayin' a word 'til my lawyer gets here."

"That's fine," answered Niko, knowing that the defense lawyer was currently taking the elevator down to the Holding area. She wanted the opportunity to study Toh face to face. This was probably the best chance she'd get to—What's that saying Zach uses? Put the fear of God into her? She let a smile curl up the corners of her lips. Or maybe just the fear of me.

"What's so funny?"

Niko raised her eyes to Toh's and let the smile turn reassuring. "Just a passing thought. Nothing to trouble yourself about." She reached into her belt pocket, pulled out the plastic bag containing Toh's few personal items, and held it up. "Do you recognize these items?"

Toy looked wary, but at length, she nodded.

Niko unsealed the bag. "This is a pretty watch," she said, drawing out an old-fashioned gold pocket watch on a fob chain and setting the bag back down. "It looks old. Was it a gift? A family heirloom, maybe?"

The suspect clenched her jaw but remained silent.

"You may as well tell me. I'm very good at learning about things. You could say they talk to me." Niko held the watch in a cupped palm and dropped her fingers to her badge. She held silent and still, eyes unfocused, letting the images come. "Your father? No... grandfather," she murmured. "When you were very small, he used to hold you on his lap and let you play with it while he told you stories about China. Every night he let you wind it." Niko smiled. "That's a lovely memory," she said sincerely.

Ying Toh pressed back against her chair, her face going pale. "Who—" she said in a voice gone hoarse.

"He left it to you when he died. You had to fight to keep it... your older brother wanted it. It's been through a lot with you, this watch." Niko glanced up at the other woman.

The whites were showing all around Toh's irises. "Where—"

"I told you, things talk to me." Niko smiled and reached into the bag again. "Now, shall I tell you about your ring...?"

 

 

Four and a half minutes later, Ying Toh's defense attorney was admitted to the interrogation room.

Five minutes later, Ying Toh agreed to a plea bargain.

 

 

 

Series Five Rangers' office

1736

 

 

Niko walked into the office, tired and ready to go home. She hadn't expected to see any of her teammates, so the round of applause that greeted her caught her by surprise. She laughed, pleased but embarrassed.

"Fantastic job, Niko," Zach praised her. "That was as fine a use of psychology in interrogation as any I've ever seen."

"Yep, mighty smooth, Niko," said Doc. "Mighty smooth. Too bad they can't teach that method at the Academy. Or, well, no, because can you imagine the embarrassing stories people could get off my keyboard? But that was some job you did."

Goose just gave her a silent thumbs up.

"Thank you, guys," she said, still flushed with pleasure at the praise. "So... do I want to know how many people have seen the vid of that interrogation?"

"Oh, only a few... dozen people," Doc told her blithely. "The OIC down at Holding was so impressed he sent it straight to the commander, who forwarded a copy to Zach, who showed it to my Goose man and me, who just sort of oops-did-I-really-sorryyy sent it to the Tactics and Procedures distribution list for the whole active Ranger Corps—"

Niko's face turned bright pink.

"You've received three phone calls already," Goose said quietly.

"Yeah, and GV couldn't help booping with excitement every time another congratulatory e-mail showed up in your queue," Doc put in. "I've counted twelve boops already."

"GV!" Niko said, a little shocked. "You don't make a habit of that kind of thing, do you?"

"Oh, no, ma'am! But we're just all so pleased for you—"

Niko dropped her face in her hands and groaned. "All? This would be—?"

"Yes, ma'am, all of the BETA AIs who are cleared for information related to criminal investigations," GV answered. "Belva was the first to send a message of congratulations—oh! I'm sorry! The Commander wanted to see you as soon as you got ba—"

"GV! And you only remembered now?"

"Sorry, ma'am—"

The door slid shut behind her. Zach laughed, shaking his head.

"Doc—life is never boring with you around, is it?"

 

 

 

Commander Walsh's office

1749

 

 

"Well done, Ranger Niko. Very well done." Commander Walsh sat back in his chair, folding his hands on his desk. "You should know that the Officer in Charge at Interrogation has already sent me an informal letter of recognition for you. He's only sent me three of those in all the years since BETA was formed."

Niko flushed with happiness again. "Thank you, sir."

Walsh harrumphed. "You've earned it, Lieutenant," he said. "That was a clever use of your psychic abilities. Now I know you haven't had the chance yet to write your report, so I won't keep you for much longer, but I'd like a quick summary of the information you got from the suspect."

"Yes, sir." Niko composed herself and took a moment to prepare. "Ms. Toh confirmed that two men sold her the luxury items, including six bottles of midgrade table wine, five cases of assorted distilled liquors—all midgrade as well—four tins of tobacco, and five kilos of premium chocolate. She provided rough descriptions; in her deposition she said they'd covered their faces. The details will be in my report."

"Nothing else? Did she get a look at their ship?"

Niko shook her head. "No, Commander. She said they brought a small cargo sled from the port."

"Well." Walsh blew out his breath in frustration. "And because there were only two of them, but at least three attackers, we can't cross any PKF names off our list."

"That's right, sir," Niko agreed. "After I question the smuggler on Mesa, I may have more useful data for you."

"All right, Ranger. Dismissed."

Chapter 5

On board Ranger One, at Brimstone System no-fly zone

2/26, 0734

 

 

They had barely warped out before they were challenged.

Well, no one can complain that the PKF aren't doing their job, Zach thought, and keyed the comm terminal. The face of an Andorian male resolved on his screen.

"PKF cruiser Aegis, this is Captain Zachary Foxx of the Galaxy Rangers. We have a sealed packet for Commander Irving," said Zach. "My orders stipulate that we deliver it in person."

The Andorian nodded politely. "Understood, Captain. Please wait a moment while I speak to the commander."

The hold screen blinked on, and after a moment Zach recognized the pattern.

"Fractals," Goose said. "Nice."

"Not a surprise, though," Zach said, smiling a little.

"That's for sure. What do you bet he originally put up formulae?"

"No bets. I'd lose." They both laughed.

The Andorian returned. A moment later, a flight plan was transmitted.

"Captain Foxx, the commander is expecting you," the Andorian said. "Your flight plan places you in Docking Bay Two. Privates Byrne and Keyes will meet you there. I am Flato; if you should have need of anything while you are aboard Reliant, you may ask to speak to me."

"Thank you," Zach responded, and Flato cut the connection.

"He didn't get posted here for his people skills," Goose noted, already laying in their course.

"As long as his flight path is good, he can be as blunt as he wants."

"Huh. If blunt is the worst we get on this trip—"

Zach sighed. "Don't remind me. This is going to be ugly."

 

 

 

On board Aegis

Commander Irving's office

0811

 

 

"You think some of my people did what?!"

Ouch, thought Goose, wincing at the volume. This guy could give Commander Walsh barking lessons. And judging from Zach's reaction, his bionic ear just made pickup a little too well.

Zachary, seated to Goose's right, gestured to the datachip that Irving had yet to examine. "The facts of the case support our conclusions, Commander," he said firmly. "If you would—?"

Irving scooped up the chip and slotted it into the reader in his desk. Goose watched as his eyes skimmed down the screen and his expression grew more and more troubled. Finally he sat back in his chair.

"Well, you've definitely established probable cause to question your 'persons of interest,'" he said with obvious resignation. "I'm not about to stand in the way of a criminal investigation."

"Thank you, sir," Zach said. "Are you able to definitively eliminate any of your people from our list? Anyone in sickbay or with another alibi for the time the crime was committed?"

"Pallas," said Irving. An AI shaped like a statue of a woman appeared on his monitor. "Can you establish alibis for any of these personnel?" Two of the names were immediately highlighted. "Thank you. Get these two gentlemen any pertinent information they ask for on those seven people who are still on the list—duty schedules, movements, financials. If in the course of the investigation you have a question about what constitutes 'pertinent,' query the legal database. If that doesn't resolve the difficulty, query me. If the Rangers' investigation implicates anyone not named in the file on that chip, notify me right away so I can clear you to release the appropriate data."

"Yes, sir," the AI Pallas answered in a firm, calm voice.

"Do you have any questions, Pallas?"

"No, sir."

"Where would you like us to work from, sir?" Goose asked quietly.

"The portside aft conference room is unoccupied today, Commander," Pallas volunteered.

"That will do," Irving said. "Pallas will create a schedule for you, gentlemen. Do you have any preference about who you talk to first?"

Zach said, "We put the men we think are more likely at the top of the list."

The commander turned his eyes back to his screen and frowned, and Goose noticed that the AI had added notations to each entry on the list. "Damn. Four of the men on your list are not on the ship at present because they're out on a patrol."

Goose sat up straight and traded a look with Zach.

"Are those four usually on duty together, Commander?" Zach asked.

"Yes," Irving answered slowly. He looked disturbed. "Yes, they are."

"Were they on patrol on the day of the attack?"

"Pallas?" Irving asked without turning his head.

"Affirmative," the AI asked. "The four soldiers in question were on patrol on that day."

Irving's face seemed to age a decade as Goose watched. "Well," he said. "Well. Do you want me to recall them?"

At once Zach said, "No. I don't want to alert any of the personnel on that list that we're interested in them." He gestured at the screen. "Our cover story is appended to the list there. In short, we're going to be asking your personnel about fictitious Crown activity near the site of the attack. And even with this new information about that team of four, we'll still want to question the other people on the list as planned."

Irving turned to read the text on his screen and then nodded, visibly pulling himself together. "That makes sense; even humans who'd steal from other humans usually draw the line at anything that could help the Queen. As for my four patrollers, they're due back late tonight. You're welcome to stay aboard as my guests, or—"

"We've got plenty to do on board Ranger One," Zach said with a smile. "There's always more paperwork than time, it seems."

"Isn't it the truth," Irving agreed.

Zach rose, and Goose and then Irving followed suit. "Thank you, Commander," Zach said. "You've been very cooperative. I know this is hard for you. Please comm me right away if I can help with anything." Zach turned for the door.

Commander Irving ran a hand over his face. "I'm going to have to get straight on the horn to Commander Walsh to start working on a statement. This is going to be ugly."

Zachary glanced back at the other man. "Yes," he said somberly. "I know. Gooseman, let's go."

Goose paused and stood at attention before Irving's desk. The commander, just sitting down again, glanced up. Goose saluted and saw the other man's face ease a little at the sign of respect.

What's that Niko said to me once? Small things matter.

He turned to follow Zach out the door.

 

 

 

On board Ranger One

1516

 

 

"It's all there, Zachary."

Doc's image on the comm went slightly fuzzy, and a bit of static chased itself across the screen.

That solar flare activity really does play hell with our equipment, noted Goose.

Goose and Zach had spent several hours that morning interviewing the three PKF personnel who'd been left on their list.

And all three had alibis, Goose thought. And then: This is almost too perfect.

Doc continued, "They're all in debt to one degree or another. A couple of them have massive debts—well, for some values of massive. The Premier probably spends that much on breakfast cereal every year. And they all made unusually large deposits into their bank accounts a couple of days after the attack."

Zach was looking perplexed. "This is almost too easy. Are you sure, Doc?"

"Hey, this is my department, Captain. But don't think I don't agree with you. They're the sloppiest thieves I've ever heard of."

"They might as well hang out a sign," Goose said sardonically. "'Please come and arrest us—we're guilty!'"

Doc shrugged. "Be that as it may—it's definitely suspicious."

"That's putting it mildly."

Goose scanned down the data on his screen again. Four names, four images, four concise backgrounds.

Alan Yates, Chief Petty Officer. Paulo Echevarria, Petty Officer. Roland Nesi, Specialist. Salim Uddin, Specialist.

They all have spotless records. If it weren't for Doc's evidence I'd never believe these four would do something like this. Echevarria and Nesi both fit the rough descriptions Niko got from the Mars fence, to boot.

"If these debts are fairly recent, it may account for the sloppy work," Zach was saying. "They're not career criminals; they're just desperate."

Goose frowned. Something doesn't add up...

"Captain," he said, "the work with that drone was anything but sloppy. That was special-forces level precision."

Zach asked, "Doc, do any of them have special forces or covert ops experience?"

Doc glanced away from the comm pickup, and there was the faint sound of clicking keys, nearly lost in another burst of radio noise. "...Yes," he said slowly. "Paulo Echevarria. He was in special forces for eight years before he went on detached duty with the PKF."

"It's definitely not enough to convict on," Zach said. "But it's actually enough for an arrest. When they get back later today, we'll take them into custody."

 

 

 

2018

 

 

In the end, the arrests were rather anticlimactic.

"I'm telling you, we didn't do this!" Yates was saying from the holding cell he shared with his men.

Yates had submitted to the handcuffs with only a verbal protest; Nesi hadn't even offered that much, only looking stunned as Zach read him his rights. Uddin scandalized Zachary and disgusted Goose by beginning to sob as Zach cuffed him, a reaction explained when Commander Irving explained quietly that Uddin was the only support for his disabled mother and his three younger siblings. "He's all they've got," Irving said, his face shuttered and heavy with the effort not to show his pain and mortification. "The PKF will take care of your family, Specialist," Irving told Uddin. "We're not about to let them get thrown out onto the street." After that the boy grew calmer, going where he was told, miserable and pale with shock.

Echevarria went tense all over when Goose approached him with the cuffs. Goose just looked at him.

"Don't make me break your kneecaps, Petty Officer," Goose said quietly. "I don't feel like filling out the paperwork."

In the end the man submitted without a fight, but Goose could tell it cost him. "You're making a mistake, Ranger Gooseman," Echevarria said. "We're innocent."

"Nobody's innocent," Goose had answered, and snapped the cuffs on.

Now Zach stopped in front of the cell and looked Yates in the eye. "You'll get your day in court, Chief," he said. "The truth will come out, either way."

The four suspects were already on board Ranger One. Irving had signed the paperwork releasing his men into the custody of the Galaxy Ranger Corps. Now Zach extended his hand. Irving looked at it as if unsure what it was; after a pause, he shook it.

"I'm more sorry than I can say, Commander," Zach said. "We will do everything in our power to ensure these men get a fair trial. Please let me know if there's anything at all I can do for you."

"Thank you, Captain Foxx," Irving said. His face was haggard.

Goose just saluted. He watched the commander nod and then turn away. Watching the man walk out of the hangar bay, Goose thought, He walks like he suddenly feels ten years older.

Poor guy.

He turned and caught Zach's eye.

"Let's get out of here, Goose," his captain said. "I want to go home and see my son."

Chapter 6

Series Five Rangers' office

2/27, 0730

 

 

Niko wasn't surprised on arriving at work to find that she was the first person into the office.

In fact, I wouldn't wonder if Zach and Goose sleep late. What an awful day they must have had yesterday.

She started up her terminal and pulled up a blank report form.

How many ways can you phrase "The fence didn't know anything useful, and the sheriff's deputy was rude"?

She made a face and began to type. Presently Zach's comm station chimed once.

"Ma'am?" said GV's voice. "An Officer Moana with the New Pigalle Police Department is on the comm. He's asking to speak to Captain Foxx. He says it's about a member of Jackie Subtract's organization."

"I'll take the call. Thank you."

Niko spoke briefly to the officer from Mars, who was calling to let Zachary know that the New Pigalle police had arrested a notorious thief who worked irregularly for Jackie Subtract.

"I'll give him the message, Officer," she said. "He'll appreciate the call. And thank you. Moxie isn't the worst of people, but he's definitely far from the best."

The brown-faced man laughed. "That's a fact, Ranger. Mahalo."

"Noʻu ka hauʻoli," Niko answered with a smile. "Mahalo nui loa."

He laughed again in delight. "A linguist! Excellent. But I have to be going. Aloha, Ranger Niko. Come visit us in New Pigalle sometime."

"Yes," she said mischievously. "I hear the bugs are great at this time of year."

He was still laughing when, with a wave of farewell, he cut the connection.

"Well, GV," Niko said, "that won't make Zachary feel any better about the arrests yesterday, but it might cheer him up a little."

"I hope so, ma'am!"

"Yes," she said, frowning. "I hope so too."

 

 

 

0816

 

 

The door swished shut behind Niko, and quiet settled over the office. Goose glanced at the evidence bag lying on Zachary's desk. An unfinished report waited onscreen; Goose had been working on it when Zach's comm rang with a call from Ranger Ed Robbins on New Petrograd, asking for Niko's help with a suspicious missing persons case. Suddenly paperwork seemed like the least important thing in the world.

"You think she'll be okay, Captain?" Doc asked. All of them had watched Niko leave, and now Doc and Zach looked at each other, both grim-faced. Goose sat still behind his terminal, not wanting to know what expression he was wearing.

"I think so," Zach answered. "This Leonov murder is about as nasty a case as we've ever seen, and she just experienced the worst part of it. Maybe I should have turned Ed Robbins down."

"Sure has all the angles," Doc agreed soberly. "Murder, rape, incest... Alexei Leonov is a rotten excuse for a human being. "

"Well, Niko's one of the toughest people I know," Zach said. "I think she'll do all right once she has some time to herself to deal with... all that."

Why the hell did she agree to scan that evidence? Goose thought, nearly despairing—but he already knew the answer. Same reason why she risked getting turned into a veggie when the Queen stole the Mindnet device. Same reason why she put up with Brent Carmody trying to grope her—and why she tried to help me find Gaea through our link. She cares. She's willing to use her psionics to help solve cases. But nobody could have known those bits of fabric were a murder weapon. She's got to have stuff running through her head right now they'd never let on live Tri-D in a million years.

Zach turned his gaze to Goose. "Gooseman, I'll be leaving for New Petrograd shortly, and I still don't have your final report on the Saoirse incident. How far along is it?"

Goose gritted his teeth. "It's started," he said. I hate this shit. Irritation began rising, a slow wave in his mind.

"I take that to mean 'Not very,'" Zach said crisply. "Get the lead out, mister. And while you're at it, you still owe me paperwork for the last time your crashed your Interceptor."

Goose stared at his screen, his jaw still clenched, and pecked out a couple of sentences. Shut up, Zach, just shut up. You're trying do the right thing, but for gods' sakes just—

"I know you're worried about Niko," Zach said, much more gently. "But I need you to do your job, and part of your job is filing reports."

Anger flared. You condescending— Goose glared at his commanding officer. "You don't have to tell me my job, Captain," he gritted out. "You'll have your reports before you leave." He shoved back his chair and came to his feet. "May I be excused, sir?" he continued. "I'd like to work from home. I'm having trouble concentrating here."

Goose saw Zach's jaw clench, saw a slight flush rise over the captain's face as his nostrils flared in annoyance—but Zach, with the self-control that had earned Goose's respect from the beginning of their relationship, simply nodded. "You may," Zach said, once more crisp and correct. "I expect those reports by the time I leave for Samara, Ranger Gooseman. Dismissed."

Goose was out the door before it even finished opening.

Yeah, I'll get you your reports, Zachary, he thought. But first I'm going down to the gym, or you'll have another file on your desk to initial: a requisition for a new terminal for my quarters.

 

 

Doc watched the door slide shut behind the second of his teammates to leave inside of two minutes. "Man! What's eating him, Captain?" he asked Zachary. "Feels like Hurricane Goose just blew through here, and I don't think it's just Niko."

Zach, still staring after Goose, didn't answer for a moment. "I don't think it's Niko at all, Doc," he said finally. "I think he's been doing research. The same kind he was doing last summer."

Doc blew out his breath. Oh hell. Remind me never to give in to one of the Gooseman's "little favors" again, he thought. The last one keeps landing me in hot water... "Anything you want me to do about it?" he asked.

"I doubt there's much either one of us can do," Zachary answered. "I think it was seeing Max Sawyer again that got him on this track, and the only thing I can think of to get him off it is—putting Greer Latham behind bars. Even if last September did help."

"Might as well wish for the moon on a string, Zach," Doc said ruefully. "It's about as likely."

Zach fixed him with a piercing stare. "Is there something I should know, Doc?"

"Nothing I haven't already told you. Intel on those bad boys hasn't gotten any easier to dig up, you know. Especially now they know I'm looking at them, they're playing it pretty cool. But like I said last week—soon as I dig up anything that can help our young friend, you'll be the second to know."

Zach sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Thanks, Doc. Guess I'd better get on the horn to the commander."

"Yep," Doc answered, and made a face. "New Petrograd in the winter. What fun."

"You're not helping," said Zach, and opened a line to Walsh's office.

 

 

 

Foxx family quarters

3/1, 0251

 

 

Zachary struggled up from a deep sleep to the sound of his wrist comm beeping. He flailed at the bedside table for it and nearly knocked it to the floor before he could get his hand around it and bring it near his face.

"Foxx here," he mumbled, and forced himself to alertness as Walsh's face appeared on the miniscreen.

"Zachary," Walsh said, and vaguely Zach thought, He's upset. Then, a bit more awake now, He's very upset.

"Commander?" he answered.

Walsh's face and voice were both grim. "I've just had a call from the officer in charge of the holding block on BETA Space Station."

Space Sta—

Zach sat bolt upright in bed. "What?" he demanded.

"There's been a fire in the holding block," said Walsh. "They've confirmed thirteen deaths already. The four suspects from the PKF are among the dead."

The words sank like ice-cold stones into the pit of Zach's stomach.

"What," he said numbly. "Oh my God. What happened?"

Walsh's face went tight with anger. "There was an arson suspect in one of the cells," he said. "A pyromaniac. The investigators have already confirmed that the fire started in his cell."

"Someone didn't search him carefully enough, and he started a fire that got out of control?"

"That would be a good guess to begin with." Walsh ran a hand over his face. "I'm not looking forward to this."

"You're heading up to the space station?"

"Yes. I'm enroute now."

Zach swung his feet over the side of the bed. "Are you going to call Commander Irving," he asked carefully, "or am I?"

"That's my responsibility, Zachary. But thank you. I'll comm you if I need your team. Walsh out."

Zachary sat, elbows on knees and head on his hands, for a long time after the screen went dark. Presently there was a quiet knock on the door. "Dad?" Zach, Jr., called through the door.

"Come in, Zach."

His son's lanky frame was silhouetted against the light cast down the hall from the small bedroom. "What's wrong, Dad?" Little Zach's voice sounded scared, but he was trying his best to hide it. "Was it from the school?" He came in and sat down on the bed next to his father. Zachary straightened.

"No, no—I'm sure Jessie's fine. That was Commander Walsh. There was a fire on BETA Space Station, and some people were killed, including some that Goose and I had to arrest recently."

"Oh, Dad, that's awful. I'm really sorry."

"Thanks, son." Zachary put one arm around his boy and tightened it briefly.

"Are you going to be okay?"

Zachary smiled painfully. "Yes. But if you're going to become a Ranger you'll more than likely face something like this yourself someday."

"Yeah." A pause, and then, "I'll sit with you for a while, all right? You look upset."

Zach felt his face relax. "Thanks," he said quietly.

They sat like that for a long while before Zach felt able to sleep again.

 

 

 

Series Five Rangers' office

0900

 

 

Doc came into the office to find Zach and Goose both already there. "Morning, Captain, Goose," he said, not even trying to sound cheerful. The rumor mill was running overtime that morning, all of it depressing. A grunt from Goose's desk was his only answer from that quarter. It had been a while—since Gaea, now I think about it—since he'd seen the big Supertrooper look so grim.

Zach was reading something on his monitor, and Doc wasn't sure he'd even heard the greeting. His frown grew deeper as Doc watched. He looked up finally and met Doc's eyes.

"Hello, Doc," he said. "I guess you've heard the news about the four suspects from the PKF?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry, my Captain. It's a lousy piece of luck for absolutely everybody involved."

"Yes," Zach agreed. His face grew pained, and he added quietly, "I promised them their day in court."

"Not your fault, Zach," Goose put in, with the air of someone who's said a thing more than once already. Doc glanced over at him.

"It isn't, but we're still the reason they were up there, Gooseman."

"Not to poke a bruise, here," said Doc, "but why were they up there? BETA has a perfectly good holding block right here in the mountain."

"Politics," Goose muttered in disgust.

Zach said, "They're—they were PKF. The commander worked it out with Commander Irving and the brass at the Forces that they'd be held on the station on grounds that it's more neutral territory than BETA Mountain."

"It's BETA Space Station," Doc said in disbelief. "That's neutral?"

"Like I said, politics," said Goose.

Doc asked, "So what's next, Zach?"

"We don't have enough evidence to determine innocence or guilt, so we're going to have to close the case without a resolution," Zach answered. "We can always reopen it later if new information emerges."

"Ouch." Doc winced. "The families are gonna hate that."

"Yes," Zach agreed. "And that kind of accusation will stick with a person and his family for good, even if he's exonerated later."

"I still say it was too easy," said Goose.

"And I still have to answer that we have nothing that would even begin to point at anyone else,"  Zachary said wearily.

Goose shrugged. "I know. I just hate closing out a case like this."

"No more than I do," Zach answered. "Like I said, it sticks with people. It's a heavy burden to put on someone when you're not even sure he's guilty." He turned back to his computer and tapped out a few more keystrokes, but in his memory he was seeing Commander Irving's hagridden face and hearing his own voice. "We will do everything in our power to ensure these men get a fair trial."

The obligation doesn't end because your men died, Commander, Zach thought. I won't forget about it.

None of us will.

Chapter 7

Doc's quarters, BETA Mountain

3/2, 0018

 

 

"Great," Doc grumbled. "More problems with the databases? What's going on over there, anyway, Bernard?" He opened a fourth session and started a search on chromosome clustering. In the secondary window, his data sort ticked onwards.

And behind Door Number Three... Pathfinder flashed a silent message in the tertiary window. Doc schooled his face to calm, but in the back of his mind he exulted. Outstanding. Another possibility off the list. You can't hide from me forever, you damn torturing baby snatcher... A single keystroke closed the session and dumped the data out of memory and into another of his "bunkers."

"Sorry, Ranger Hartford." Technician Bernard Vasquez looked embarrassed. Doc flipped back to his main session and stared at the lines of code. "It's the second time it's happened now," Bernard continued. "Do you—"

Doc's sessions froze. He stared blankly at the unmoving lines of data. His tweakers popped out of the computer as if spat from a cold plastic mouth and began to dance wildly around him.

"Hey, Doc!" Pathfinder squeaked. "We're off the network! Blammo!"

"What?"

"What?" said Bernard.

The door to Doc's quarters hissed open. Booted feet clattered in the corridor.

"Internal Affairs! Stand up and put your hands on your head!"

Doc spun in his seat. A Ranger Corps Internal Affairs team boiled through the doorway into the office, guns at the ready. An officer strode through in their wake and stopped, leveling a cold stare at Doc. Onscreen, the technician's eyes bulged.

"Buh," Bernard said.

"What?" Doc demanded, bolting up out of his seat, and froze as gun muzzles drew a bead on his head.

"Hands on your head! Now!"

Doc complied, glaring. "You're making a big mistake, buddy," he bit out as one of the Internal Affairs troopers stepped forward, cuffs at the ready.

The officer—Lieutenant Gioberti, according to his badge—shrugged. "I'm doing my job, Hartford. You're under arrest for data piracy."

Doc goggled. "What?"

"You've gotta be kidding me!" Tripwire squawked. Gioberti looked irritated.

"Yeah!" Firefly added, buzzing furiously around Doc's head. "Doc only pirates data from the bad guys!"

Doc ground his teeth. The Internal Affairs trooper waved the little program aside, drew Doc's arms down behind his back, and snapped the cuffs on Doc's wrists.

"All of you," Doc snapped. "Into the CDU and shut up." The tweakers obeyed in a flurry of pixels. "And you—" he glared at the IA officer. "I'm not saying another word without my lawyer present."

"Whatever. Mariampolski, Hseh, Carrows—search the place," Gioberti ordered. Doc opened his mouth to protest, and the officer flourished a search warrant in his face. "You were saying, Dr. Hartford?"

Doc shut his mouth. From the comm screen Bernard said faintly, "Uh, Doc, I'm just gonna call Captain Foxx," and signed off.

"Well, then." With a jerk of his head to his troopers, Gioberti turned and marched back out the door. Two of the troopers hustled Doc after him. As they pushed him out the door, Doc saw one of the troopers bagging his CDU for evidence and another powering down the main workstation, doubtless preparing to pull the drive.

Doc ground his teeth again. Well, at least they're not gonna get anywhere with breaking into my system, he consoled himself. They'd have to melt it down first.

Now how am I gonna figure out who set me up—and what am I gonna do about it?

 

 

 

Holding Cell 016, BETA Mountain

0829

 

 

Three hundred eleven, three hundred twelve...

The lock on the holding cell door beeped, and the door slid open. Doc stopped counting the spots on the ceiling and sat up.

"Visitor, Hartford," the guard said. She sounded bored.

Zachary stepped through the doorway. Doc sighed inwardly at the resigned expression on his captain's face. The guard shut the door behind Zach, muttering, "If my CO asks, I didn't just leave you in there with him, okay, Captain?"

"Hey, Zach," he said cheerily. "Come to smuggle me a hacksaw?"

Zach frowned at him. "I don't see that there's much to joke about, Doc," he reproved the hacker. "You're in a lot of trouble. Internal Affairs found a data cache full of classified information in your quarters. I don't suppose you know how it got there?"

"That would be telling." Doc cast a significant glance at the speaker grille near the ceiling and put on his best You-don't-expect-me-to-say-anything-significant-in-here-do-you? expression. "And I'm waiting for my lawyer, anyway."

"Doc—"

"No, Zach, I don't know how it got there. I don't think I should say anything else without my lawyer around, though. Not where IA can hear me."

"Do you have any idea how paranoid that sounds?" Zachary demanded.

"Absolutely. So how are the kids?"

"What? What does that—" Zach shook his head, half amused, half incredulous. "They're fine."

"How's Niko?"

"Fine, I think."

"Really?" Doc let himself sound skeptical.

"She's back in the office today and asked me to wish you well," Zach said curtly. "Doc—"

"How is the commander doing?"

Zachary shook his head. He was beginning to look mildly irritated. "Fine. He's only been back from the space station for a few hours, and he's fit to be tied with this happening on top of... the fire. Doc—"

"What?"

"You would try the patience of a saint," Zach said with feeling. "What are you going to do about all this?"

"Me? I have a lawyer for a reason, Zach. Now, if you want to do something, maybe you could drop a word to the commander about getting me the heck out of here."

"He's working on it."

"Fine," Doc said gently. "That's good, Zach. Thanks." He glanced at the comm on Zachary's wrist. "What time is it, anyway? They took my CDU and wrist comm."

"A little after 0830. Your tech friend Vasquez called the office last night and got hold of GV, and GV commed me immediately. I spoke to the commander just afterward. He's been going back and forth with the head of IA, but I'm afraid you're stuck here for a while longer. No one was happy at being hauled out of bed in the middle of the night, either. I understand that Commander Walsh had a few choice things to say to Lieutenant Gioberti about his timing."

Doc forced a smile. "Nice to have friends."

The lock beeped again and the door hissed open. The guard stepped into the cell and thumbed over her shoulder. "Your lawyer's here, Hartford."

 

 

Liz Gibson, Esq.—Slick Liz to her friends, Doc had whispered as the guard escorted the two teammates to the conference room—was a statuesque blonde with the most calculating eyes Zachary had ever seen. She wore an elegant trouser suit in a dark red that was very close to the shade of dried blood. Zach had the sudden feeling she had chosen the color for that precise reason. She set down a stylus and rose as they entered. He saw her lips move as she subvocalized, doubtless to an AI in the sleek handheld on the table in front of her. Automatically he deciphered the movement: "Ears on, Magister," she'd said. "Confidentiality mode."

The handheld pinged. "Sweep complete, ma'am," the AI announced in a mellow baritone. "The room is clean. Confidentiality mode on."

"Landed yourself in the shitter this time, Walter," Doc's lawyer said by way of greeting, and eyed Zachary up and down. "This your captain?"

Zach bit back laughter. Is she going to ask to look at my teeth?

"How do you do, Ms. Gibson?" he said. "I'm Zachary Foxx, Doc's commanding officer."

She held out her hand. Her grip was firm but not crushing. "Going to back up your man, Captain?" she asked curtly, and turned to Doc before Zach could respond. "Walter, I've read the Internal Affairs report. Doesn't look good for you, fairly cut and dried. The data cache they found held more classified data than the Premier's mistress, none of it stuff you're cleared for. Let's sit."

Zach pressed his lips together to hide a smile as they all settled into the uncomfortable chairs arranged around the table.

"Where'd they find it?" Doc demanded.

"Toilet tank."

"Toilet tank?" Doc nearly screamed. "What kind of moron do they take me for? If I was gonna be stupid enough to have an illegal DC in my apartment, the last place I'd put it is the toilet tank!"

"I take it you're pleading not guilty," Liz said.

"Damn right I am! I did not steal that data! Liz, this could ruin my reputation. Forget the hacking charges—if word starts getting around that I got caught—and I didn't, because I didn't do it—I'll never live it down."

"Doc!" Zach exclaimed. "Aren't you worrying about the wrong problem here? You've had criminal charges brought against you. I'm hearing noises about treason."

"Hey, Captain, I do have my pride, you know."

"If I may interrupt," Liz drawled. "Got any proof you didn't hack that data?"

"Yeah," Doc shot back. "I'm here. Whoever really did it left traces, spoofed data that pointed to me. That's why they came after me, right? The trail led back to my apartment."

 Her eyebrows rose. She pushed the handheld across the table. "Maj, show him the reports," she commanded. Doc snatched up the little unit and began to read. Liz turned to Zachary. "So, Captain," she said. "You going to back up your man?"

"Of course," Zach replied. "If he tells me straight out that he didn't hack that data, I trust that he didn't. And besides," he let his lips quirk in a faint smile, "I've read that report as well, Ms. Gibson. Doc's too good to leave the kind of trail that led IA back to him."

"You flatter me, Mon Capitan."

"Read, Walter," Liz insisted.

"Yes'm."

"I charge time and a half for putting up with sarcasm."

Zach burst out laughing. "You must get a lot of time and a half out of Doc."

Liz's eyes flashed in a brief answering grin, but she sobered quickly. "So, you think this was a frame, Captain Foxx?"

"I—" Zachary frowned. "Well, I can't see any other way that data could have gotten into Doc's apartment. You don't put something in someone else's toilet tank by accident. I guess it's up to us to find out who did the framing. Lieutenant Gioberti is satisfied he's got the hacker, and he's not going to listen to my telling him that Doc is innocent, not with his record. —I'm sorry, Doc, but you know it's true." Zach turned his gaze to Doc, who pulled a resigned face and pushed the handheld back toward Liz.

"Too true, Zach. Guess my bad old days are catching up to me... again. Anonymous tip, huh?"

Liz Gibson picked up her handheld. "So. We've got an anonymous tip traced to a public comm station in Alice Springs. We've got the hacker's relative lack of skill—or maybe tremendous skill to leave a false trail that'll pass checks," she mused, scanning the screen. "Not enough by itself. Hm! No forensic data received yet. Maj, query the Internal Affairs AI, see if they've got anything they haven't sent over."

"Yes, ma'am," Magister answered placidly. He paused and then added, "Report incoming."

Liz's eyes grew intent, skimming rapidly across the screen. Zach, watching her, came to the decision that he wouldn't want to be in the prosecuting attorney's shoes when this case came to trial. If it does, he amended.

She sat up straight, eyes still glued to the handheld, and smiled unpleasantly. A soft sound came to Zach's ears; he realized after a moment that Liz was humming.

"What?" Doc demanded.

Liz glanced up at him, that unpleasant smile still on her face. "The forensic results from the DC," she said. "It was sealed in a layer of plastic to keep out the water, and they got a tiny smudge of dead skin from it. They're running DNA testing now."

"Are there any preliminary results?" Zach asked.

"They can say it's from a male, but aside from that, no. We'll have to wait until tomorrow for the test results."

"So they can't conclusively connect that DC with me?" Doc asked.

"Aside from its presence in your toilet tank, no, not so far," Liz retorted. "That's a problem. Who else has access to your apartment?"

"No one!" Doc protested.

She gave him a hard look, eyebrows raised.

"Well, I thought no one," Doc amended, his voice a tad sulky.

Zach frowned, thinking, Wait a minute. "Commander Walsh has authority as base commander to override your security codes, Doc, though somehow I doubt he was putting illegal data into your toilet tank." He stood. "But there's a source of information I haven't checked yet: the security logs. I'll go get copies. We'll find out whose codes have been used to open your door, Doc."

"Yeah! My Captain!" Doc's face lit up. "And if you can get a look at the computer logs IA used, maybe get me a copy, we can figure out who really hacked that data." He sighed. "Wish I had my CDU."

"You're off the net, Walter," Liz noted. "Internal Affairs considers you a flight risk."

"Yeah, yeah. Just get me those logs, Zach, and I'll figure out who framed me."

Zachary nodded, glanced at Liz. "Ma'am." He caught his fingers reaching for the brim of a nonexistent hat and grinned sheepishly at her. "I'll be back."

 

 

 

Series Five Rangers' office 

0901

 

 

With a light sigh, Niko put her thumb to the sensor pad attached to her terminal.

"Signature and thumbprint recorded, ma'am," GV chirped. "That's your third report this morning. Just two more and you'll be all caught up!" He bounced, and a new document appeared. "Here's the next one!"

"Thanks, GV."

"You're welcome, ma'am."

The door hissed open and Zachary strode in. "Hello, Niko," he greeted her.

"Hello again. How's Doc?"

Zachary shook his head. "Mad as a cat that's been tossed into a bathtub. It doesn't look too good, Niko." 

"I was hoping you wouldn't say that," she said, feeling suddenly weary. "Well, I assume Doc was framed. Do you have any idea who it was?"

Zach swung his chair away from his desk and settled into it. "That's what I'm here for. GV, I need the security logs from Doc's apartment door for... Oh, the last three months, I suppose. You know he's been arrested?"

"Oh, my, yes, sir. It's all over BETA's network. We're all quite upset. What would we do without Dr. Hartford? He's our best psychiatrist." GV bounced for emphasis. "I've beamed the data to your handheld, Captain. Is there anything else we can do to help?"

"He wants to have a look at the log files Internal Affairs used to track that trail to his apartment."

"Oh, that!"

"Oh, that"? Niko echoed inwardly, a smile spreading over her lips.

"We've been working on it all night, sir! Belva, Dorian, Simon, Alberta, and I have been sorting through the logs for the entire network to screen out all the extraneous data. We have our suspicions, sir!" GV's voice acquired a definite edge of indignation. "But of course we aren't allowed to testify, so we'll have to hand over all the data—well, I've downloaded it to your handheld, sir."

"Thank you, GV. Good work. I'll be sure and let Doc know you helped."

"Thank you, sir. I—oh. Oh! Oh, no!" GV shook in place, then bounced from the bottom of the screen to the top—just as Niko's report froze on the screen.

"What's the matter, GV?" Zach asked.

Niko hit a key hopefully—and bit down on the urge to swear as nothing happened. "The network's halted," she said. "GV, please tell me this doesn't mean what I think it means."

"I'm afraid it's not just the network, ma'am," GV answered. "One of BETA's servers has just crashed. Thank goodness none of us live on that particular server—it would be much worse without AIs, if I may say so." He rotated in place. "Oh, my. Initial reports indicate this is likely to be a bad one, with some loss of data. You have been backing up your important files, haven't you?"

Niko and Zachary groaned in concert.

"And Doc's in jail. He's going to tear his hair when I tell him about this." Zach rose. "I'd better get back. Oh, Niko—could I borrow your computer? There are three of us and only two handhelds. They confiscated Doc's CDU and he's missing it mightily; he's latched on to his lawyer's computer instead. While he's handling it, the Internal Affairs AIs won't let it access the network, and I'm sure Ms. Gibson will want net access. And speaking of his lawyer, I wouldn't want to be facing her across a courtroom." He grinned and rubbed one hand over the back of his head.

Niko smiled and pulled the handheld from its loop on her belt. "Here you are, Zach. I'm nearly done with my reports here. I can still work on them locally and file them later. Once I'm done I'm going to spend the rest of the morning working out. I shouldn't need my handheld back until after lunch at the very earliest."

"Thanks." Zachary tucked the little unit into his pocket, waved, and was gone.

 

 

Secure Conference Room A, BETA Mountain Holding Area

1216

 

 

Zach rubbed his fingers over tired, burning eyes and leaned back in his chair, setting his handheld down on the table. Doc sat hunched over Liz Gibson's matte-black unit, his expression just as intent as it had been two and a half hours ago when Zach had returned with the promised data. The hacker had turned off the holographic display after barely 20 minutes, complaining about image diffusion. Liz, using Niko's unit, had only rolled her eyes.

"Military-grade," she'd noted. "Very nice."

Well, the door logs were... interesting, Zach reflected. Good thing they aren't stored on the server that crashed. I thought Doc was going to have a stroke at finding out that someone used Walsh's code to get into his apartment—almost as big a stroke as the one I thought he'd have at the news about the crash. Well, they'll get the data back or they won't. He stifled a yawn. The person who stole that code made a big mistake using it on a day when the commander was on BETA Space Station. His stomach growled, and he sighed. He'd barely had time for a muffin and a cup of coffee on his way to the office to borrow Niko's handheld.

Doc set down Liz's computer and straightened. "Vendez," he said.

"What?" Zachary frowned, trying to recall where he'd heard the name before.

"Eduardo Vendez. Computer specialist in the accounting department. He thinks he's hot stuff, and he can't stand me because I came in last year and fixed a major glitch in the accounting system that he'd been trying to track for three days. Took me twenty minutes with the tweakers. Wouldn't have thought this kind of data theft was his bag, though, to be honest. He always seemed more like the type of guy to hang around in a corner at BETA mixers and make dumb remarks at my expense." Doc shrugged. "But anyway..."

The hacker pushed Liz's handheld forward on the table. "His ID is in the logs here," he pointed, "and here—these times correspond to the data thefts exactly. Don't know how he managed to get hold of the commander's security code, 'cause frankly I wouldn't have thought he had the chops for it." He shrugged. "Maybe he's just better than I think. But it doesn't make sense, from what I know of him. Anybody that good shouldn't have needed my help with that accounting system problem." Doc sat back a bit, obviously absorbed with the problem. Zach exchanged a wry look with Liz Gibson.

"Is that all, Doc?" Zach prompted.

"Well, there's that back door they found that pointed straight to my apartment's network node. If you got me the original source code—not reverse-compiled, the original—for that back door and two or three other programs Vendez wrote, I could read 'em like handwriting. Not that they'd let me testify, but any competent security specialist could do the same thing. You've gotta find that source code first, though—if it's still out there. Not the kind of thing that tends to get left around, unfortunately. It's a long shot."

"I know just the person for tracking down code on the network," Zach said with a grin. "Or rather, just the AI." He turned to the comm terminal on the wall. "GV, are you and your friends up for it?"

The AI's blue-and-green eyeball bounced once and spun 360 degrees. "We'll get right on it, sir!" he assured Zach, and vanished with an audible pop.

"Outstanding," Liz said, that unpleasant smile back on her face, and triggered her comm. "As for the analysis, I've got someone who'll do just fine. I'll tack it onto your bill, Walter." The comm pinged to announce a connection, and she turned slightly away from Zach and Doc. "Sachin? Liz Gibson here. I have a job for you..."

As she murmured into the comm, Zachary pushed back his chair and rose. "I'm starving, Doc," he said. "I'll have some sandwiches sent up, but I have to go get some food—and talk to the commander. Sounds like you and Ms. Gibson have things well in hand."

Doc grinned. "You betcha, Captain. And Zach—" The hacker's usual flippant expression gave way to seriousness. "Thanks."

"The Galaxy Rangers stick together," Zachary reminded him. "I'll see you soon, Doc."

Chapter 8

Commander Walsh's office

1247

 

 

"What?!"

"It was your code," Zachary repeated. "But I've already confirmed that it was used while you were on the space station yesterday. Of course that was a dead giveaway that it couldn't have been you."

Walsh blew out his breath and pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, his eyes closed for a moment. "I don't have to tell you what a serious breach in security this represents," he said through a tight jaw, opening his eyes again to fix Zach with a grim stare.

"I know, sir. Do you think Vendez managed to get hold of it himself?"

"No idea. But we're going to find out. But first—"

Walsh turned to his terminal, typed in a request, and—after a wait of several seconds—stared at the form for requesting a new security code. "Belva, fill this thing out for me, will you?" he grumbled.

"Right away, sir," his AI responded. There was a momentary pause, and Zach saw text appearing in the form's various fields. As the last one filled, she added, "It's ready for your signature, sir."

Walsh pressed his thumbprint to the scanner on his desk and used the lightpen to sign the form.

"Form saved, sir," Belva said. "I have downloaded a copy to your handheld as stipulated by Integrated Security Department procedures."

"Sir, the network's a mess right now," Zach said. "I stopped by IS before I came here, and it took almost ten minutes even to get anyone's attention. When I asked about a code change, the technician actually laughed at me. He said they and Operations will be lucky to get that crashed server back online and the data restored by morning if that's all they do. I didn't mention it was your code, though. Somehow I think he'd have changed his answer."

Walsh snorted. "He's going to," he said, and opened a line to his adjutant. "Sheela! Get the head of IS on the line for me, please. Tell him it's about a major security breach."

 

 

"A full security audit?" BETA Mountain Security Chief Per Torvaldssen gaped at Walsh. "Commander, my people are scrambling to patch up the server right now. We won't have the manpower for a full audit until after the restore is done."

"That's fine, Chief," Walsh said. "Until then, at the least, I need a new security code, and my old one needs to be removed from the system. Not just disabled—I don't want some hacker someplace just flipping a bit and getting access back. Wipe that code from your databases. And I need it done immediately."

"Yes, sir!" Torvaldssen replied, snapping a salute. "I'll take care of it myself, sir. My people are overwhelmed with the server repair and the problems it's causing."

"Very good," said Walsh. "Now—remind me what was on that server? I'm not as familiar with the contents of any given machine as you are."

"Mostly data storage," Torvaldssen said. "The bulk of it scientific, but also some anthropological and archaeological records, that kind of thing. The IS servers have redundant drive setups, similar to the old RAID arrays. Same with the Ranger Corps criminal and forensic databases, sir—we keep the most sensitive and vital data backed up live so that this kind of thing can't happen. You can count on my department, sir."

"Scientific?" Zach said. "There must be some pretty unhappy people in the labs."

Torvaldssen winced. "You could say that, Captain," he admitted with a sigh. "Q-Ball was on the line earlier."

"Ouch," Zach said, suppressing a smile. "Well, I wish you luck, Chief."

"Thank you," Torvaldssen answered. "I think what we really need is about five more people with all the right expertise and clearances, but—" he shrugged. "IA picked a hell of a time to arrest Doc. I'll get on that code right away, Commander Walsh. In fact, if you'll wait a moment—" He turned away from the video pickup at his desk, his face growing intent. Zach heard the light clatter of a keyboard. After perhaps thirty seconds, the security chief nodded. "Okay, Commander, your old code's gone from the system. I'll need you to come down to my office to enter the new code. I'm sorry for the inconvenience, sir, but it's the most secure method."

"Thank you, Chief," Walsh said. "I'll be down shortly. And while I'm there, we can talk about security at BETA."

"Yes, sir." Torvaldssen saluted again, looking resigned.

 

 

 

Series Five Rangers' office

1442

 

 

"Captain, I've found it." GV floated lazily in the upper right-hand corner of Zachary's monitor screen. "And may I say that was no small job with the network in this condition. It was on the space station's auxiliary mainframe. It seems odd that Mr. Vendez would keep source code for an illegal back-door program in any of his personal directories, even if he had hidden the code within an image document." The AI gave a derisive sniff. "It wasn't even encrypted. It's not as though it's difficult for AIs to filter unencrypted code."

Zachary paused, tapping his stylus on the desktop, and frowned. "That does seem odd," he agreed. "Can you send a copy of that code to Doc's lawyer, please? She'll want to get her contractor started on it, I'm sure." 

GV bounced. "Already done, sir," he responded. "Anything to help." 

"Thanks, GV." Zach resumed working on his report. Slick Liz must be smiling right now, he thought with a faint smile of his own—but the smile turned slowly to a frown, and again his stylus went still.

Something's not right here. He stared down at the desktop, seeing a face from a personnel file instead of the smooth plastic of his writing pad.

Does Vendez really have the skills for this? He doesn't have half the experience Doc does.

He shook his head. The evidence points to him. And either way, IA's not going to listen—so we'll have to get them something they can't ignore. He stood abruptly. Goose, slogging through another report, glanced up as Zach stopped by the younger man's desk. The Supertrooper removed the clip speakers from his ears, and Zach suppressed a wince at the pounding drums and screaming guitars that emerged as the external sound buffers disengaged.

"I thought you had enhanced hearing," Zach said. "How can you stand that?" 

Goose shrugged, a slight grin crossing his lips, and shut off the recording.

"Save that, would you?" Zach requested, pointing at the report. "There's something I want your help with."

"Sure, Captain," Goose responded, closing out the document with a speed Zachary couldn't help but find unbecoming. "What's up?"

"GV found source code for a back door program in a directory belonging to Eduardo Vendez. By itself that's not enough proof to take to IA. But clearly the person who set Doc up has access to sensitive BETA data files—plus Doc found traces of Vendez, who doesn't like Doc, doing something in the system right at the times those files were stolen. All this together doesn't make Vendez look very good, in my mind."

An unpleasant smile spread itself across Goose's face, and he rose from his chair and stretched, catlike, before drawing his pistols and checking their charge. He glanced up at Zach, teeth bared in something Zachary could no longer quite call a grin. "What say we pay Mr. Vendez a little social call?"

 

 

 

Accounting department, BETA Mountain

1530

 

Eduardo Vendez was a dark, stocky man of medium height who wore his perfectly pressed uniform with the kind of stiffness Zach was accustomed to seeing only in soldiers in full dress. He ran his hand over his combed-back hair and shifted in his seat.

"I'm still not sure how you think I can help you, Captain Foxx," Vendez protested. "I mean, I know BETA's accounting system inside and out, but security's just not my specialty. No disrespect intended, but your man Hartford knows much more than I do about hacking. " Gooseman, lounging insolently against the frame of Vendez's office door, shifted his weight, and Vendez shot a nervous glance at the Supertrooper.

"Well, Mr. Vendez, strictly in confidence, IA strongly suspects that Doc didn't do it," Zach explained. 

Gooseman snorted. "That, or they're thinking he had an accomplice," he said. "Either way, I wouldn't want to be this hacker when IA gets hold of him. Gioberti is flaming mad at being lied to. And if they get hold of that scumsucking, lying, anonymous tipper, the guy's ass is grass. I think Gioberti is even more pissed at the tipper than he is at the hacker." 

"It seems to me," Zachary said casually, "that the hacker's best hope is to come forward and plea-bargain. If he tells IA and the network security folks how he did it, they might let him off a bit easier. If IA has to track him down, I imagine the sentence will be much heavier." 

"Won't be long now," Goose cut in. "They've got a DNA sample. And if that weren't enough, they found that source code, and Doc's lawyer has a contractor working on it—" 

"Gooseman!" Zach snapped. "Put a lid on it. " 

Vendez had gone deathly pale. "A heavy sentence, huh?" he asked, failing to hide the tremor in his voice. "Any idea how heavy?" 

Zachary shook his head. "Because of the highly sensitive nature of the data, IA is talking about bringing charges of treason against this hacker. So you can understand, I'm sure, why we're so anxious to prove Doc's innocence. It looks good for him, though. Enough of the evidence is pointing away from Doc—" 

Vendez abruptly leaned over and put his head in his hands.

"Mr. Vendez, you don't look well. You all right?" asked Zach solicitously.

"I think the highly sensitive nature of Mr. Vendez here isn't doing so hot with all this talk about treason, Captain," Goose said.

"Treason is a pretty ugly charge, all right," Zachary agreed. "It's enough to make anyone upset. But we didn't come here just to chat with you, Mr. Vendez. We were hoping, since apparently some of the data touched on accounting matters, that you could tell us who might have access to it. Strictly off the record, of course—professional courtesy, seeing as how we told you a bit about how the case is going. And we know you're as anxious as we are to see Doc's innocence proved." 

Goose took out his knife and commenced to clean his nails with it.

"Well, anybody in Accounting with an access privilege of 'Top Secret' or above, of course," Vendez said, his voice gradually steadying. "And any member of the command staff who was actually working on the Helios Proj—"

Vendez broke off as he realized what he'd just said. 

"That's very interesting, Mr. Vendez," Zachary said coldly. "Especially since the only person outside of IA who would know what was on that data cache is the hacker himself. " 

Without a sound, Gooseman moved to block the door. "Very astute, Captain," he drawled, and his voice went suddenly soft and menacing. "So... you got something to tell us... Eduardo?" 

 

 

 

3/4, 0827

 

 

"Yeah!" Doc stretched and flashed his teeth in a grin as the elevator door slid open in front of them. "My Captain! You and my Goose man came through again."

They stepped out into the main booking area of BETA's Internal Affairs department. Across the room, Zachary saw a worn-looking Marco Gioberti sitting at a desk and staring sourly at his monitor. Gioberti looked up as the three Series Fives crossed the room, and his face went stiff and defensive. Zachary met the other man's eyes and nodded.

Good officer, though I wish he'd give up this dislike for Doc. It made him jump too fast on this one.

"Ha!" Goose smirked. "I was all for letting you stew a couple more days, Doc, but Zach came in this morning and said Jessica's been messing with GV's interface code again, and—"

"Goose, you wound me!" 

Zach sighed inwardly. From across the room, he heard Gioberti's comm ping, heard the IA lieutenant answer and take up a conversation in low tones.

Doc stepped up to the Records counter, behind which stood a stone-faced IA officer whose eyes registered the hacker's approach with something less than enthusiasm.

The last time I saw an expression like that, Zach thought in amusement, the next thing I heard was Brappo asking what we wanted this time.

"My CDU and other belongings, if you please, Officer Llewellyn," Doc said cheerfully.

Llewellyn pushed a datapad across the counter. "Sign here," he snapped, holding out a lightpen and indicating the proper entry field with the index finger of his free hand. As Doc took the pen, the officer slid forward a shallow box labeled Hartford, W. The box held Doc's CDU and badge, his wrist comm, a high-end hard drive, and a motley assortment of small tools, chips, and junk.

Zach peered at the box. Is that a—on second thought, I don't want to know.

Doc signed with a flourish before scooping up his CDU, still in its evidence bag. The plastic crackled as he pulled it loose. "I trust this and my computer's drive are fully intact?" he said to Llewellyn. Doc clipped the CDU to his belt and began gathering the rest of his belongings.

Llewellyn grew, if possible, even stiffer. "Talk to the lieutenant," he said, nodding toward Gioberti's desk.

"I'm sure it's fine, Doc," Zach reassured the hacker. "Let's go."

"Bye, guys!" Doc called to the room at large in a voice so aggressively cheerful that Zachary winced. He heard a pair of IA officers grumbling to each other, glaring in the team's general direction.  One of them, he realized suddenly, was staring at Goose. The other spoke; Zach, reflexively turning his bionic ear in the man's direction, caught a muttered phrase.

"—all belong in the deep freeze," the man was saying. The partner hissed a warning at him. The man looked up and met Zach's eyes, flushed a dark red, and turned away. Zach, shocked to the core, turned numbly back toward his team.

"Let's go, Doc." Goose put his hand on Doc's shoulder and steered the protesting hacker quickly out the door.

Zachary, recovering, gave Gioberti an apologetic look and followed.

"So?" Doc said as they headed for the elevators.

"So, what?" Zach asked irritably. "And did you really have to tweak IA's nose just one more time, Doc?"

"Absolutely. So, what about Vendez? They getting anything out of him?"

Zach shrugged. "I haven't heard a thing."

"Gioberti got a call while we were there," Goose said.

"I heard him answering," Zach said. "What about it?"

Goose smirked. "The beauty of having enhanced hearing in the age of two-way comm connections."

"I have enhanced hearing, too," Zach said, deadpan, "but I was taught never to eavesdrop."

"Right," Goose said with a snort. "Well, I heard the cop on the other end. He's been sweating Vendez all night and getting nowhere. Sounded like Gioberti hadn't been off interrogation duty for long, himself. The other guy said Vendez still won't say a thing about why he did it, just falls back to name, rank, and serial number."

Doc whistled. "Who'd have thought ol' Eduardo had it in him?"

"Something Gioberti said..." Goose mused. "I got the idea he thought Vendez was scared spitless of something."

"Data-trafficking charges?" Zach asked with a snort.

"No, that's what Gioberti thought was weird. He said it was almost like Vendez was protecting someone—out of fear."

Chapter 9

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Doc's quarters, BETA Mountain

3/4, 0918

 

 

The shoe—left, brown leather, size 9B—hit the wall with a resounding smack that completely failed to make Doc feel any better. 

"Shit!" he raged. "Those low-down, no-good, arrogant scumbags!" 

"Naughty language, Doc!" squeaked Tripwire. "It's not your fault they crashed the server and blew away two of your bunkers." 

"Of course it is! They figured out I found something, and they got me out of the way while they tried to cover up—and in the process, they screwed over half of BETA. Even with the backups, you know how much work got lost? Q's flipping out!" 

"They didn't get all of your bunkers, Boss," Tripwire offered. 

"Small comfort," Doc grumbled. "Bernard and his buddies were up all night two days ago, and they didn't get much rest last night, either." 

Pathfinder popped out of the CDU. "You're not gonna tell them, are you, Boss?" 

Doc snorted. "Fat chance. I like my skin all in one piece."

"You really sure it's OPS, Doc?" Tripwire asked. "Servers crash all the time." 

"Of course I'm sure. One of my other bunkers is gone, the last server I vacuumed has a bright shiny new hard drive, and our network guys are too busy cleaning up to notice a few more missing files. It's all way too tidy. Bastards."

"Hey, Boss?" squeaked Codebreaker from inside the CDU.

"Yeah?"

"How'd they know you found whatever it was?"

Doc paused in his pacing.

"Good question," he said quietly.

Tripwire asked, "Think it's the mole?"

"Don't know." Doc was looking thoughtful. "If it is, that suggests it's gotta be one of the security people on Belva's shortlist."

Firefly emerged from the CDU to circle Doc's head. "So they're low-down, no-good arrogant scumbags," it said. "What're you gonna do about it, Doc?"

The hacker's eyes narrowed. "They're hiding something, something specific," he said. "Something they don't want me to know about. Something from one of those servers." One hand clenched into a fist. "I'm gonna find out what they're so afraid of, and I'm gonna make it blow up in their dirty, rotten faces."

Series Five Rangers' office 

3/4, 1008

 

 

Niko strode through the office door as if she were charging it. Doc took one look at the determination in her eyes and thought, Whoa. Guess she's worked out her upset over the Leonov case, 'cause she's obviously feeling better. And I can improve on that.

"The commander just called me a bit ago, Niko," he said. "We got an assignment. We get to enjoy an all-expenses-paid trip to Tortuna City for a sting operation."

She blinked. "A sting operation?"

"The commander wants us to pose as smugglers and sell some chips on the black market. The idea is, the chips have one special component that we can scan for, so when the buyer starts moving 'em out into the parts stream, which of course he'll do by selling them to smugglers and their fix-it guys, we'll be able to track the stuff the chips got used in."

"…Which will largely be illegal weapons," she said, nodding. "It's a good plan. When are we supposed to leave?"

Some of the weight seemed to come off Doc's heart as he saw the interest in her eyes. This is just what she needs, he thought. Something to focus on besides poor Uliana Leonova and her disgusting brother. "Day after tomorrow, and we'll be back in plenty of time for our diplomatic mission to Tarkon."

"In which case," Zach's voice cut in, "I'd like both of you to get caught up on your paperwork."

Doc groaned theatrically—and was absurdly gratified at the small smile that flickered over Niko's face.

 

 

 

Goose's quarters, BETA Mountain

3/5, 0247

 

 

In the dark of his quarters, Goose crept across the net.

Somewhere it's out there, you bastard. The one bit of data I need to nail your hide to the wall.

Goose let his search run, tapping his fingers on the edge of his desk.

Wonder if Niko's okay?

The tapping grew louder. The search results popped up onscreen—another dead end—and he closed his session with a sigh, his thoughts drifting back to his teammate. She'd seemed calmer over the last few days, but a sadness still haunted her eyes when she thought no one was looking. She's more upset over the Leonov case than she wants to let on. I'm sure of it.

He accessed an account he'd cracked four days ago and opened an e-mail session. His eyes raced down the screen. Methodically he skimmed the messages, copied three of them from the screen onto an encrypted storage chip, and exited the account.

Won't need that one again. Next.

He opened another session and typed a series of commands—and shock froze him in place. He stared at the screen.

It's not Latham, but—holy shit.

 

 

 

Doc's quarters 

0746

 

 

"You know what time it is, Gooseman?" Doc grumbled, but he let Goose past him into the apartment and waved him to a chair.

"Sure, Doc—it's morning." Goose, feeling obscenely pleased with himself, sat, leaned back, and stretched out his legs in front of him. He smirked at his teammate's bathrobe. "Nice plaid."

Doc glared at him. "I was up till the wee hours, catching up," the hacker complained. "That darn server crash has played hell with my sleep schedule. So what's got you out of bed so early?"

Goose excavated a chip case from his pocket, tossed it to Doc, and sipped at the mug of coffee he'd brought with him—because, as he thought to himself, Doc's coffee lacked that certain something.

"Yeah, battery acid," Doc had grumbled once when Goose told him as much.

Goose watched as Doc popped the chip into a reader, entered his decryption passkey, and began to read.

 

---

 

To: Director, Office of Planetary Security

From: Nighthawk

Subject: Project Hawk

Date: 7 January 2099

 

I have reviewed the proposal from Director Fenman as requested, and I must inform you that Hawk is not viable at this time. 

Earth's security currently depends on BETA and our allies. The Series 5 Program has produced BETA's most dependable front-line defense, first contact, and extreme situation team. To eliminate the current Series 5 participants would undermine BETA's ability to provide defense against the Crown Empire and alien intrusions while BETA rebuilds. Until and unless there is another option for immediately filling the security void the Series 5 team's elimination would leave, we cannot risk the damage that their assassination or removal would bring to the Series 5 project itself.

In addition, all four members of the program have honorary or actual status with a number of nonterrestrial allies on whom we currently depend for defense and intelligence against the Crown.

Captain Foxx and his family were formally "adopted" into Kirwin's ambassadorial family prior to his aborted posting to their planet on 8 January 2096. Therefore, any attack on Captain Foxx is considered an attack on the Kiwis by the precepts of their culture. There is reason to suspect that this status is extended to the people he commands as well.

Doctor Hartford was made an honorary member of the Tarkonian Royal Guard for his actions in defense of the Royal family and Tarkon itself during the attempted Crown invasion. He is considered a hero to the Tarkonian people who have embraced technology. In addition, he is a personal friend to the royal family, as are Rangers Niko and Gooseman.

Ranger Niko is the official ambassador for the League of Planets in the Traash Protectorate. The Traash High Command has been reluctant to accept the posting, even unofficially, of anyone else. Anthropology has reported that the Series 5 members, as well as Ambassador Zozo of Kirwin and the pirate captain Kidd, have been honored by the creation of an entire new "class" for the species: the Peacetalkers, who are second only to the High Command in the social structure.

Ranger Gooseman, unlike his colleagues, does not have high-level nonterrestrial ties other than those already mentioned. However, the BWL believes that he is vital for the recovery of the escaped Supertroopers. So far, this belief has proven correct, as he is the only one to have had any success in this endeavor.

I recommend that all Hawk plans be shelved indefinitely. OPS can survive and outmaneuver many of the disclosures the Series 5 team has forced in recent months, and the program itself can be contained by legal means from now on. The contingency protocols still remain in effect, should the worst happen. Further proposals and projects such as Hawk will only serve to undermine our security and organization, and squander resources needed for Starfall, Blackthorn, and Raptor.

 

Nighthawk

[memo appended]

 

 

To: All Departments

From: Director, Office of Planetary Security

Subject: Hawk

Date: 11 January 2099

 

 

Hawk is abandoned until further notice. All work on this project will cease immediately.

 

---

 

 

Slowly Doc sat back in his chair, his skin nearly gray with shock. "Holy shit," he breathed. 

"Yeah," Goose answered.

"They were gonna—OPS was gonna take out a hit on us?"

"Looks like it."

Doc studied his screen again. "And this 'Nighthawk' put the kibosh on it. Don't suppose you've got any ideas about who that is? 'Cause I wanna send him a year's worth of flowers."

"You're hilarious," Goose said flatly. "Check out that second file." He watched as the hacker opened the file in question and studied the information on his screen.

"Whoa," Doc said. "You think a Major General in the PDC is working for OPS on the side?"

"I think so. But this isn't exactly conclusive. Think you can come up with anything?"

Doc affected an offended look. "My Goose man! This is the Doctor you're talking to. If it's there to come up with, I'll find it. But what makes you so sure?"

Goose stared into space for a moment, seeing instead holly-green eyes in a heart-shaped, delicate face framed by dark hair. "On Mars," he answered at last, "Gaea said to me that Latham used to talk to 'men,' that one of them once called another one General." He shifted his eyes to Doc's and pretended not to see the look on the hacker's face. "How many generals could OPS have?"

Doc forced a smile. "Well, they don't come in six-packs. Sure, my Goose man, I'll see what I can dig up. And now I better hit the shower and get breakfast, or Zach'll be on my case again for being late." 

"Right." Goose rose abruptly. "Thanks. I'll see you later."

"You bet, man. Thanks for the lead."

Series Five Rangers' office conference room

0826

 

 

"Niko!"

She turned away from the conference table at Zach's call. Doc, sitting in the chair next to hers, paused his CDU's output and looked up.

Zach stood in the doorway, frowning. She saved her work and stood, clipping her handheld to her belt, but he waved her back to her seat and came to stand next to her chair.

"What is it, Zachary?"

"You're off the mission to Tarkon," he said. "We have to go to New Petrograd on the tenth. Ed Robbins just called; nearly twenty DNA profiles are missing from the Samara PD's databanks. There's no way they're going to find a paternity match on Uliana Leonova's baby without that data. I've agreed to take new samples and get the analyses going on BETA's end. You and I have the most experience collecting biological samples, so you're coming with me."

"Oh, that was accidental," Doc drawled. "'Ooops, Captain Marianich, looks like I erased a bunch of data we needed for busting Leonov! Sorryyyy...' They got any idea who did it, Zach?"

"No, they don't. Robbins was pretty grim, though. He said Marianich was fit to be tied."

"Zach, are you sending Doc to Tarkon alone, then?"

Zach shook his head. "Gooseman will go instead."

Doc made a speculative noise. "Well, that should be interesting."

Niko kept a pleasant expression on her face, uncertain whether to be glad she could skip dealing with Maya or annoyed that the Princess of Tarkon would be getting a chance to flirt with Goose. Oh, get a life, Niko, she snapped at herself.

Zach was looking at her questioningly. She felt the heat come up in her face. "Okay, Zach," she answered hurriedly. "Thanks. I assume the Tortuna City mission is still on?"

"Yes. You leave as scheduled, day after tomorrow at 0500."

Doc rose. "Speaking of which, I have some laundry to do. And my CDU needs fresh batteries." He frowned. "And geez, I almost forgot about—"

Niko poked him. "Go on, Doc," she said, laughing, "or we'll be here all day."

 

 

 

Series Five Rangers' office

3/6, 1638

 

 

Niko leaned back in her seat and sipped her hot chocolate. Once again she scanned the list of potential contacts she held. This M'krek seems like the most likely option, she mused. I know how to push buttons on a Gonosian, and he moves enough components to serve our purposes. There's not much data on him, though; we'll have to pay Geezi a visit. The corners of her mouth quirked. He'll love that, I'm sure.

"Miss Niko!" Doc breezed into the office. "Got your packing done yet?" 

"No, I'm waiting for my clothes to come back from the laundry," she said with a smile. "Did you get a chance to review the documents for tomorrow's mission?"

"Sure did. You got any opinions on the right fixer for us to contact?"

"A fixer named M'krek. He's a Gonosian."

"...And didn't you write a research paper on Gonosian social behavior?"

She smiled. "Wow. Imagine your remembering that. Yes, I did, back in Academy."

He clicked his tongue approvingly and winked. "We must respect Ranger Niko's authori-tay. Nice to know I'm partnered up with the baddest Gonosian wrangler in human space."

"Oh, no!" she protested, but she was laughing helplessly. "Doc! They're not cows!"

She heard Goose laugh, too. "Nah, just big and ornery."

"Don't you start, too, Shane! They're only ornery if you show dom—"

He held out both hands, palms out as if to stop her. "Not the complete rundown," he begged. "We'll be here all night! And don't you have packing to do?"

She pitched a paper clip at him. "Barbarian," she teased him, beginning an old routine from their Academy days.

"Egghead," he retorted over Doc's faint "She's got you there, Goose!"

"Goon." Both of them were beginning to snicker now.

"Snob." Doc went off into gales of laughter.

"H-hooligan!" she countered.

"Elitist!"

A spark of mischief lit in Niko's mind. "Metamorph!" she sputtered, and collapsed into hilarity.

"I am not a—Niko!" But Shane was laughing, too.

"Got you!" she crowed.

Oh, it feels good to laugh. It seems we haven't had much to laugh about lately...

Niko left a few minutes later, heading for the laundry depot to pick up her clean uniforms. Doc stayed at his desk to finish, he said, "a few minutes of prep." Niko exchanged a look of resigned amusement with Goose on her way out and, as she walked down the hall, commed GV and asked him to keep track of Doc's time. "You know he'll work too late if someone doesn't kick him out of there," she said, "and we have to leave at 0500."

"Niko!"

Stopping, she turned. Goose was striding down the hall after her. She looked inquiringly at him.

"I've got laundry to pick up, too," he explained. "Might as well keep each other company."

She smiled. They walked in silence for a minute, and then Goose said, "Found out something a couple days ago."

Niko turned her head toward him, one eyebrow quirked in question.

He looked uncomfortable. "Uh—I shouldn't say it out loud."

The other eyebrow shot up. "Are you actually asking me to—" she started, then broke off at the expression on his face. "Okay," she said cautiously, and she tapped her badge and brushed the fingers of her other hand across his forehead. She felt him shiver, and her face went hot.

:What is it, Goose?:

She felt him thinking hard of something and followed him there. What she found made her reel in shock. He caught her elbow and steadied her.

:They were planning to—:

:Yeah. But they didn't.:

:...Gods.:

:Niko, walk. We'll attract attention.:

She forced her feet to move; the effort gave her mind a free space to reorder itself. They reached the elevator bank, and absently she tapped the call button.

:Where—: She sensed his discomfort and stopped the thought before it carried her, in his mind, to a place he did not want to share. :What, then. What are we going to do about this?:

He shrugged. :Nothing to do. At least not yet.:

The elevator arrived and they both got on. The pair of Series Two Rangers already there went quiet. Niko barely noticed them.

:Did you find any indication of how they were planning to carry out the—: Her mind balked at finishing the question.

:How they were going to kill us?: he asked brutally, and ignored her gasp of shock. Vaguely she sensed uneasiness from the Series Twos. She smiled at them without conscious thought. :No. But the response makes it pretty clear that unless there's a major change in leadership, we're safe—from them, at least.:

She shivered. The elevator chime sounded for the cafeteria level, and the Series Twos sidled off, eyeing her and Goose like Bovo-6 cattle faced with a pair of very large lycans. Goose smacked the Door Close button, shutting the doors nearly in the face of an adjutant carrying a loaded tray.

:Goose,: she chided him.

:Sorry,: he answered with a perceptible lack of remorse, :but you're not that good at covering your reactions and I'm not in the mood to be stared at. As for what we're going to do—nothing. But watch yourself out there, girl.:

She stared at him. :Have you told Zach about this?:

:Not yet. I'm looking for the right time. Soon. Don’t worry about Zach, Niko. He's been a cop for a long time. He's got a lot of practice at thinking six paranoid thoughts before breakfast every morning.:

The chime sounded again. "That's our floor," Goose said aloud, and he held the doors open to let her exit first.

:Don't worry about Zach,: he repeated. :Just take care of yourself. Watch your own back.:

He pulled back, trying to close off contact, but not before she caught a thought he had not intended to share.

:I can't always be there to watch it for you.:

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Notes