January 31st, 2262. 12:45 Villam Orbital Station – Traffic Control

John was crouched down in front of a door that led inward toward the traffic control tower. The hallway wasn’t particularly busy, which was helpful because it’d be obvious if the door opened, and no one walked out of it. Someone would naturally inspect that and get way too close to him.

Additionally, the intelligence agents were fanning out across the station. The hallway was clear, the holo-emitters were re-engaged, and he sped out down the quiet hallway. Ten steps down the hallway there was an opening on his left. He darted up the lightly used stairwell.

“Eve, are you into their command-and-control node yet?”

“Estimated time is two minutes and sixteen seconds.”

“Will you be able to lock out the Special Agents from it?”

“In theory that will be possible.”

The power armor suit’s VI reported successful transmission from their cores in the suit to the station. But the block on outgoing communications was still preventing them from sending their data to First Fleet. John didn’t know exactly how to override that just yet.

“Is there any way to bypass the order?”

“Physical connection to a communications server. Located here in the tower. Displaying alternative route there.”

“Agent’s Sherman and Brock, to me in the tower,” commanded Special Agent William Aakre.

John was pleasantly surprised at Sherman’s promotion. He couldn’t be honest and say he liked the man, but he thought him a reasonable man. Brock on the other hand wouldn’t hesitate to throw down against him.

Nevertheless, John continued his slow and methodical ascent. Fifteen floors more to go. Thankfully the security was relatively light here, but not non-existent. John desperately wanted to avoid the station staff as they were innocent in the matter. The Intelligence Agents though? They’d be left battered, broken, and bruised.

14:43 CNS Magnificent – Bridge

Admiral Panapa was not a happy man. He had guessed wrong and jumped his mothership and her defense fleet to the wrong system. Naval Intelligence was also cock-blocking him at every turn. Attempts to raise assets on the station above Villam had failed as well.

The viewscreen then appeared. Deputy Director Matthias Boros appeared on the screen. The man looked tense and not at all happy with things. Though what those things weren’t apparent to the bridge staff of the Magnificent.

“Director Boros, I am not going to be put on hold any longer. Whatever bullshit operation you are running on Villam is ending now. When we get there any Intelligence assets that do not surrender to me will be destroyed.”

“Admiral now is not the time for idle threats.”

Pan looked like a man possessed, “They are not idle threats. You WILL end whatever operation is going on. I will personally make it my life’s mission to bury all of you assholes if Lief or the surviving crew is in any way, shape, or form harmed.”

“Admiral, I am speaking honestly here. There is no operation active there.”

Pan leaned back in his chair, “Then why are my ships unable to raise the station and all docking requests being rebuffed? It’s as if someone didn’t want outside communication to happen.”

Boros was surprised by that statement. He looked down at his terminal and tried to hail the station. The communication cut out as if it were busy. He tried two other channels. This gave the same result. He frantically tried to hail ships known to be orbiting the station, but still nothing.

“I… I don’t know what to say, Admiral. I’m serious, I don’t have any records of any active operations in Villam. Or for that matter anywhere near that system.”

“Then I suggest you get your boss, the top dog, to contact Admiral Dickinson. First Fleet does not appreciate, nor will tolerate, the targeting of our assets by these unlawful orders. You’ll find that this fleet is far different than it was in years past.”

“Unfortunately, Admiral, while I share your concerns with what is going on, I do not agree with that statement. That is however an argument for another matter. I will contact the director to try and find out what’s going on.”

“Impress upon him the displeasure First Fleet is feeling now. Understand we know where your assets are stored…” Pan motioned to the communications officer to kill the feed, “Coms, have our assets in these systems converge to these locations.”

Pan transferred a listing of systems and what planets or stations for them to converge on.

“And order the reserve wings to head there. Make sure this is on an open channel, so those assholes know what we’re doing.”

“Understood sir,” the communications officer said.

15:01 Villam Orbital Station – Traffic Control

John had achieved direct access to Naval Intelligence’s operations. He hadn’t overplayed his hand though. There wasn’t a need to make them change their codes on him. False sightings were being sent in by ‘station personnel’ which resulted in several wild goose chases.

He had thus far avoided detection, but he was still six floors from his target. There was a room on the next floor that granted access to the central core of the tower. If he could get into that without alerting anyone it’d be a straight shot to the floor of his choice.

But three guards were patrolling that floor. One of which was stationed in front of the door. John sighed, he really didn’t want to hurt these guys, but he needed to get to that server.

“Eve, do you have access to the station security?”

“Yes, we do have access.”

“Send an alert to these three that there’s a disturbance on the floor below us and that backup is requested.”

“One moment,” the VI said without any noticeable inflection, “Done, two guards are using the far stairwell.”

John was moving before the VI finished. He rounded the stairwell and ran down the hallway. At the end of it, there was a janitor’s closet. That wasn’t in the schematics. He was smiling inside his helmet.

“Eve, unlock that door,” John said as he pointed ahead.

The heavy clomping of his boots caused the security guard to turn the corner just three steps in front of John. The guard had but a blink of an eye to see an odd ripple in the light. Before he could reach a large hand clumsily grabbed his radio and smashed it. The guard was then grabbed by another hand and forcefully shoved into the closet.

“Lock the door and unlock that access door over there,” John pointed to the door but then laughed at himself for pointing at a physical object for his VI.

John jogged around the corner and ducked under the doorway. The panel closed and locked itself behind him. After a brief scan around the hollow center, he began climbing up the side of the nearest wall. It may not have been the most efficient route, but he was getting closer and closer to his target. A large and overly thick cable was ideally placed to help him scamper up.

When he was two floors up, he walked over into an alcove and hunched down in it. The access panel opened, and three guards stepped in with high-powered flashlights. They were scanning the internal section of the tower. The suit’s sensors picked up their conversation.

“Look mate, I can see the radio was destroyed, but they don’t make invisible power armor.”

“Dude, I never said they did. But something huge did that to me.”

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The third guard laughed, “Your five foot nothing, everything is huge to you.”

“Look, let’s get you a new radio and check in with the boss man. Let him make the call.”

“Intelligence fucks are super tense. Did you hear the two agents that came up here a while back? Dunno why they are so tense at trying to find a missing member of the Des Moines crew.”

“Whoever they are after we want nothing to do with. But we should still let our boss know what the hell is going on. He can make the call on alerting them or not, it’s out of our paygrade.”

“Fine, I’ll stay here and guard this bloody door. You two go and take care of that. I’ll radio down. I’ll keep it general so as not to alert our guests. Sick and fucking tired of dealing with those pricks.”

John smiled in his helmet. He wondered if all the police and security people talked about him like that when he was an agent. They probably did since he was a bit of an asshole. Though John did sympathize with the agents slightly because the mission also took precedence over normal things like manners and respect.

Sherman was the one agent he might be able to reason with. He only knew Aakre by reputation, it was unlikely he wasn’t still a hardass though. Brock was already on his shitlist, and his hostility towards John was likely going to end in bloodshed.

Still, the goal was to accomplish the mission. If he could pull it off, he might be able to have the master call off his attack dogs. John began climbing up the wall once again. It didn’t take long for him to cover the required distance.

“There are three access panels to the floor. Marking them in your display,” Eve said.

“Eve, where is the server from my position and is there a way to get there without being seen?”

“Turn to your left, it is marked. There is no way to get into that room without going through the hallway outside of this room.”

“Patch me into the hallway security feeds.”

A video feed then showed the hallway in the lower right of his display. A guard was present at the end of each. It was time to play an old trick to see if he could get them moved.

“Eve, open the west door. Then open the east door ten seconds later. The moment both guards move from their spots open this door,” John pointed at the one he was walking to, “And the server room.”

The first door opened suddenly. The guard looked at it, then at his compatriot across the way, and walked towards the open door. This exact situation replayed itself when the other door opened. Both guards were talking over the radios about the doors opening.

John’s door opened and he quickly stepped through it and to the server room. He looked around the room and walked over to a server. He scanned it quickly. It wasn’t the one he wanted. Eve directed him to the correct server. He began accessing it.

“Stop right there asshole,” Brock shouted, “I fucking knew that you were going to come here. You were always predictable.”

John smiled in his helmet. His right hand was resting over the access port. Brock didn’t see the cable shoot out of his wrist and access the server. John stood there motionless as he saw a readout in his HUD track the transfer and transmission of the ship’s logs and sensor data to their rightful home.

“I said back the fuck up from the server asshole,” Brock commanded.

John did no such thing. He stood there like a statue. Brock began sliding out from his cover, but still couldn’t see clearly what John was really doing to the server. The file had finished being copied over to the station’s server. But it hadn’t finished transmitting all of the data.

“I won’t ask again asshole. Back away from the fucking server!”

John remained as still as a statue was. Brock’s eyes bulged when he finally got an angle to see what was really happening. His left hand shot up to support his right and he pulled the trigger. A plasma blast erupted from the pistol and soared at John.

But then the strangest thing happened as the plasma reached John. The blast just seemingly phased through John. No damage was down to the suit of power armor when there absolutely should have been some damage dealt to the power armor. Brock’s smile disappeared from his face instantly.

The suit of power armor then disappeared from sight, and another appeared standing next to another server on the other side of the diminutive room. A blast rang out from the gun that was pointed in his direction. Unlike Brock’s shot, this high explosive shell found its target.

The round struck his chest plate just over his right breast. The explosion might have been survivable had he worn a helmet. His armor was a mess, but his face wasn’t protected from the explosion. Half his face was shredded with shrapnel. More worryingly for the agent were the large chunks of flesh and muscle that were shredded around his neck.

He dropped the pistol and fell back to the wall and slid down limp to the ground. With what little power remained in his body he held his arms to his neck. But the effort was futile, the wound he suffered would cause him to exsanguinate in under two minutes.

John walked over and picked up the plasma pistol. He dropped the fusion core and vented the energy from the gun. Then crushed it in front of the dying man. Brock was losing consciousness; the bleeding couldn’t be stopped.

“So predictable, was I?” John stood to his full height and walked out of the room.

There was no longer any need for subterfuge. John was well past the point that he simply didn’t care who could see him any longer. Several more of the station’s guards had converged on the position. When they saw John, they all felt as if their lives were over.

“Stand down gentlemen,” John broadcasted through the suit’s speakers, “I’m not here for you. Call the coroner for the asshole in there, he’ll be dead in a minute or two.”

The guards stepped out of his way. They all just stared at the man walk casually past them and down the hallway. Somehow, someway, they had dodged death that day. One of the newer guards fainted and fell hard to the floor. That snapped the other guards out of their stupor.

John walked up the stairs to an open room with a communications node in the center. He ordered Eve to free it from Naval Intelligence controls. He then for the first time spoke to the agents on the ship.

“Your mission has failed utterly, and you are down a special agent. How many more of you join the blowhard remains to be seen. Leave this station now,” John all but hissed the command.

He pointed at the two special agents that looked utterly surprised at his presence, “You two can stay. Get Director LeCroix on the coms now.”

“And if we don’t?” Aakre said.

John drew the gun, “Then you die. Then Sherman gets a chance to live or die.”

“You’re bluffing,” Aakre scoffed at John’s order.

Sherman stepped forward, “No, no he’s not.”

“We have…”

“You wanted to hide something we found. And then you wanted to silence me if I didn’t play your game. You took on a mission beyond your station and lost. You’ve disgraced your department in accepting this idiotic mission. LeCroix will survive the coming purge, do you think you fucks have a chance of working alongside any Naval officers again if you harm any of us or keep this bullshit going any longer?”

Sherman walked over to the communication’s central terminal and opened up a direct line to the director. He couldn’t hide his shock when he saw John. Doubly so when he had his agents held at gunpoint.

“I would strongly recommend you call off this insane and utterly ridiculous stunt Director.”

LeCroix sighed, “You do not give orders to us.”

“Director, you know me well enough to know that I have no problem killing people I view as enemies. If you don’t call this bullshit off, Aakre is going to be dead, followed by Sherman. Then I’m going to hunt each and last one of you rats that are still on the station.”

“You wouldn’t kill an agent in cold blood.”

John shook his head, “Not in cold blood, in defense of myself and my crew from unlawful and unwarranted detention. Five.”

“John, you do not…” the director was interrupted.

“Four…”

“This petty behavior is beneath you…”

“Three…”

“Sir, call things off,” Sherman protested.

“Two…”

Just then an open channel was made to all Naval Intelligence assets on the station. The game of chicken was won by John. They were ordered to stand down and retreat back to their vessel and await further orders.

“Director, I think it’s well past time that we come to a gentlemen’s agreement. I am not going to stand for this acrimonious relationship any longer. I suggest we leave each other alone from now on.”

“Our directive…”

“You tried to kill an officer that managed to escape a piss poor attempt at an attack against an enemy combatant, and somehow found the Alliance had WMDs that they would use against us. Did you seriously not look at the optics of attacking me? The leadership of First Fleet is likely aware of everything or has pieced enough things together now. Plus, do you think I don’t have enough dirt to bury all of you assholes for good?”

“You’ll be taking yourself down too.”

“Maybe, but you lot groomed a teenager to become a murderer for them. My career may end, but I’ll walk free. You and yours, you’ll be lucky if you just hung. Don’t think for a moment that I won’t burn you if you push too hard. This is a game where you can’t possibly win.”

“Special agents, head to the ship and await instructions,” LeCroix said painfully, “You won this round, John.”

“See to it that this is the final round. So how did the Alliance get the anti-matter weapon? Which program leaked that information?”

“It is an internal matter.”

“Of course, it is. That means this op will be blamed on the dead asshole co-opting a rescue operation. Good luck eating crow, sir. You’ve got a shitstorm to clean up.”

Director LeCroix looked like he swallowed a lemon before his image faded out. John took his helmet off and hooked it to his left hip. He holstered his pistol and pressed the station communications button. He connected himself to the central command.

“Apologies for the mess Captain. Intelligence is leaving the station,” John said.

“Who are you, soldier?”

“Lieutenant John Lief sir, acting captain of the Des Moines.”

“Holy hell, glad to see you’re alright,” the captain said, “I’m sending my officers to where your crew is being held. We’ll guard them until your friends in the First Fleet arrived to reinforce us. We’ve got three of their ships that are cleared in to dock with us now.”

“Thank you, captain.”

John cut the line. He then rang up Fleet Command on St. Mary’s station. It took a moment to connect. Admiral Tim Dufresne smiled when he saw John standing in front of the hub.

“Damn nice to see son. Our ships are docking now. We will get you back home soon.”

“Good to be in safe harbor. Could’ve done without all that bullshit though.”

“Agreed. Admiral Dickinson is traveling to Titan as we speak to have a face-to-face. We’re going to have your crew inspected by medical personnel at the station. I’m told there were several crew members that lost limbs, digits, eyes?”

“Two arms, a foot, two legs, a couple of hands, and three eyes if I recall correctly, sir.”

“We’ll get the regrowth process started on them. We’ll continue treatment on your transport back to Manchester. The CNS Magnificent is due to arrive in the system in three days.”

“Thank you, sir. I don’t think I’ll step out of line by saying we’re all looking forward to getting home.”

“Once again son, amazing job. I’m eager to be debriefed.”

The communication ended abruptly.

John then messaged St. Mary’s station once again but directed it to Alice. The screen lit up and showed Alice. John took his helmet off and looked into the view screen.

“Things really didn’t go to plan out there,” John said sheepishly.

Happy tears ran down Alice’s cheeks. She choked up immediately and couldn’t form any words between the crying and happy expressive noise she was making. John could then feel a weariness wash across him. The adrenaline was flushing out of his system. Soon he’d be reunited with his wife, but the future was anything predictable.