Cardioid Sector, HR-14 System, Battleship Singularity
An Indigo Agent. This corpse belonged to a spy, and not just any spy.
Indigo Agents specialized in long-term infiltration. They were the United Countries Space Command’s eyes and ears. Command’s intelligence network had massive reach. There was no question of that. Informants and spies fed information from all of humanity’s worlds to Command, and Command deployed ships as necessary to ‘keep the peace,’ even when that meant ordering massacres.
Notorious loyalists, the Indigo Agents’ original identities were killed off so completely that their infiltration mission effectively became their life. They were chameleons, altering their bodies, mannerisms and personalities to blend, eavesdrop and learn everything they could. Indigo Agents very, very rarely revealed themselves, and even as the Fleet Admiral, Gives had not been privy to the Indigo Agents’ deployment. That knowledge was prized, held only between agent and handler.
In most cases, no one would know they had encountered an Indigo Agent. The existence of the spies’ wrist implant would not be public knowledge, regardless of the implant’s purpose. Any trait that would oust the Indigo Agents would be classified at the highest level, meaning he knew nothing about it, even if the ghost did. But, like most of Command’s secrets, she had a history with these agents that couldn’t be overlooked.
Tossing the corpse’s hand back onto the deck, the Admiral stood. Zarrey gave him a glance, but continued his own examination of the body. The Colonel would be thorough, document everything from the origin and style of his clothes to the way his hair had been cut. That would yield some clue how long the man had been aboard Crimson Heart’s station, and thus, how long he had been embedded there as a spy.
Stalking back over to the blood-stained sensor console, the Admiral began to query the ship’s logs for any information on the Indigo Agent or their strange implants. It would have been before his time, during the Hydrian War. That was as much as the ghost would speak on the matter, and now was no exception. She had gone quiet, present yet mute. He had never quite been able to discern if that silence of hers was willing or if she’d been ordered to it and left unable to communicate on the subject.
Regardless, his query of ship’s records returned no results. Any mention of an Indigo Agent’s presence had been purged. The Admiral would have expected as much. They would have been poor spies to leave any mention of their presence. Even the ghost, a weapon of highly-clandestine nature, was not meant to recall anything about the Indigo Agents, but Command had always understood her poorly. They failed to comprehend the fact that she maintained an independent memory – one that remembered everything she had been ordered to forget.
His search through the ship’s records pointless, the Admiral turned his attention instead to the internal sensors’ data. The Singularity’s internal sensors weren’t particularly robust. They, coupled with data pulled from the life support systems, were primarily used for onboard atmospheric and temperature monitoring. They detected fires, hull breaches and other hazards. They weren’t meant for in depth analysis, but he checked them anyway.
The Indigo Agent’s implant… Something about it unnerved him. Something about it was familiar, or perhaps just wrong. The bulge on the corpse’s wrist seemed too small to be an explosive device, but that didn’t mean it was harmless. The death of the host could very well trigger a reaction – the release of some toxin or bioagent.
Still, there was nothing amiss in the ship’s atmosphere. The air circulation systems hadn’t found anything out of place, and they would have flagged a high concentration of unknown particulates in the air. The Admiral worked for another few minutes, checking for other anomalies in temperature or electro-magnetic fields, but the ship was reporting everything normal.
As far as the Admiral cared, that just meant answers would have to wait for an autopsy. There were more immediate concerns: he’d just shot and killed an agent of Command on the bridge. Their location may have been reported, and a fleet controlled by Manhattan or Reeter could be on its way. “XO,” he called to Zarrey, “oversee the supply movement. Hurry it as much as you can. It can be messy as long as it is safe.”
Zarrey looked up from the corpse. “We in a hurry?”
“We are now.” Gesturing to the corpse, the Admiral continued, “That was one of Command’s agents.” With the look of the central worlds about him, that was a certainty. “Our position here may be compromised.” It was impossible to know if the agent had reported in and received updated orders to attack, or if Command had given its spy network standing orders regarding the Singularity.
“Ah,” Zarrey said, drawing his expression into a scowl. “I’ll have them get a move on it.”
A moment later, the replacement communications officer, Ensign Wilder arrived. He was a young man with dark, slightly curly hair, and the Admiral didn’t allow him time to contemplate the bloody condition of the ship’s command center. “Ensign,” he ordered, “take over comms. There is a ship in range, CRG-99. Hail them.”
“Yes, sir,” the ensign said, stepping widely around the mess of blood to get to his station. It took him a moment to orient himself and slip on the spare headset hung by the console, but he began to work without further questions.
“Do you want to move this fucker out of the way?” Zarrey asked, nudging the spy’s corpse with a foot. “He’s going to be dead center for the visual broadcast. Emphasis on dead.”
“No,” Admiral Gives answered. “Let it be a warning to the Coalition.” How they reacted to this scene would be very telling of their intentions. For their sake, the Admiral hoped they were surprised, otherwise their shiny little flagship wouldn’t be leaving this asteroid field.
Zarrey made a face, part understanding, part disgust. “That’s one way to make a first impression,” he muttered, returning to his own task.
“I’m ready, sir,” Ensign Wilder called.
There was a confidence in the young man, nothing near arrogance, simply experience. Though Wilder worked the night shift, he had worked with Admiral Gives before. The Admiral had purposefully shifted his hours on regular intervals to work not only with the primary station handlers, but also with the second and third shift reserve officers. He had familiarized every one of the ship’s officers with what he expected of them. In that, Wilder had no hesitation about interacting with him. The Ensign simply took over his role and folded in with the rest of the crew.
Admiral Gives returned to his usual spot beside the flat top of the radar console. Its softly glowing surface was flecked with a fine mist of red, and its sides were smeared in blood. Kallahan still hadn’t moved. He sat against the console, a gun in his hands and a bandage on his leg. The Marine made no effort to move out of the frame, and the Admiral did not ask him to. The spy’s corpse lay sprawled between them, its neck twisted so that the bridge’s camera’s angle would catch its mangled state in full. That wasn’t intentional, but the Admiral made no move to correct it, nor did he make any attempt to clean the slather of congealing blood from his hands. “Hail them, Ensign.”
“Aye,” Wilder confirmed.
The Aurora answered quickly, eager it seemed, and the large screen at the front of the bridge switched inputs from the tactical map of the pirate base to the hail’s video feed. The Aurora’s bridge was a tidy affair, smaller than the Singularity’s, but sleek and kempt. Her crew looked much the same. Their hair was nicely combed over or put up tightly, uniforms clean and pressed, hardly a wrinkle anywhere to be seen.
By comparison, to say nothing of the bridge’s current state, Admiral Gives knew his crew looked haggard. But, they’d been working, and he would not apologize for that. The Aurora’s spotless appearance indicated she had done little work as a national guard ship, simply been paraded around to impress. Naturally, that was something the Admiral found distinctly unimpressive.
Every member of the Coalition crew wore white. Their jackets were detailed in gold to varying degrees, the embroidery no doubt denoting rank or experience. The man in the fanciest jacket had a blue sash running from his shoulder to his waist. As if that weren’t enough indication that he was in charge, he sat in the center of the bridge upon a contoured chair which had control screens branching off its arms. As the hail connected, the two communications systems syncing up, the Aurora’s captain stood and put his arm across his chest in some sort of salute.
The movement was practiced, perhaps even rehearsed, but shock interrupted it all the same. The Aurora’s captain dropped his arm awkwardly from the gesture as his eyes went wide. His mouth hung open for a moment in clear surprise caused undoubtedly by the Singularity’s visual feed.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
With a patient eye, Admiral Gives watched the Coalition commander regather his thoughts, obviously taken aback by the garish condition of the Singularity’s bridge. That was a good sign, an indicator that the Coalition was not in league with Command. “Who am I speaking with, Aurora?”
The young captain’s eyes broke away from the corpse’s mutilated neck and snapped back to Admiral Gives. “I am Lord Protector Borealis, head of Her Majesty’s Royal Guard. It is an honor to speak with you, Fleet Admiral.”
It seemed even the sight of a fresh corpse could not interrupt the pointless dance of formalities, so Admiral Gives replied bluntly, “I am no longer the Fleet Admiral.”
“The title of Fleet Admiral is won through combat, is it not?” Borealis said. “One could argue that you will hold it until defeated by another.”
“I have no interest in political niceties, Lord Protector. I am calling as a courtesy.” Nudging the corpse on the floor with his shoe, Admiral Gives continued, “This was an agent of Command. Given that you are well outside your sovereign space and attempting to engage a known criminal in conversation, I expect that you would want to know.”
A degree of color drained from the Lord Protector’s face. “Is this location exposed?”
“Possibly. Thus, if you do not wish to be found here, I would advise you to withdraw.”
“I cannot abandon my mission, Admiral. Her Majesty sent me to escort you back. Name your demands and you shall have them.” The Lord Protector raised a hand toward Kallahan’s slouched form. “I see you have wounded. Do you require aid? We would be happy to provide it.”
“We require nothing, Lord Protector,” the Admiral told him coldly. “We are no strangers to violence.” The ship was fully equipped to handle herself and her crew in such cases.
“Then name your desires, Admiral. If it means a meeting, the Empress will fulfill them without negotiation.”
Lord Protector Borealis was desperate to complete his objective, but the Admiral did not consider that a sign of malintent. If anything, it made the situation more perplexing. Ordinarily, an open-ended invitation like that never would have enticed the Admiral. He’d never had any interest in wealth, rare goods or political favors. However, the situation had changed. A political favor could be the difference between getting a resupply or starving out in the void. The Cassiopeia Coalition could be an invaluable ally to a ship on the run, and that wasn’t a possibility Admiral Gives could discard, no matter how slight. “At this time, I only request the Empress’ patience,” he told Borealis. “If she maintains an interest in a meeting, then you may wait in the Riddick Sector. If I decide this conversation should continue, we will be there in five days.”
“The Riddick Sector,” the Lord Protector echoed. “That is a large area. Any point more specific for our rendezvous?”
“No.” Choosing a more specific location would enable traps to be laid. “We will find you if we determine it is in our interest.” The Riddick Sector was primarily void space. It had no solar systems or other anomalies to note. Within it, there was nowhere to hide, nowhere to conceal an ambush. It was well within the Singularity’s capability to search that sector for a ship of the Aurora’s size, so there was no need to be more specific.
“Very well,” Borealis said. “If you will not accept our aid here, then we shall take our leave.” He placed his arm across his chest in the ceremonial gesture once more. “I can acknowledge our timing here was flawed, Admiral, but I truly hope to see you again in five days’ time.”
“I will consider it,” and that was the only answer Admiral Gives cared to give. He signaled Ensign Wilder to cut the transmission and the view of the Aurora’s sparkling bridge disappeared.
“They were surprisingly amicable,” Zarrey said, scratching at the old scar on his jaw. “What the fuck do you think they’re after?”
“I am uncertain,” the Admiral told him honestly. “We will have five days to figure it out. It is not our priority at this time.”
“Right,” Zarrey agreed, “thievery first, political charades later.” Life on a battleship never was dull. “The supply movement is in progress. We’re shoving stuff in wherever it fits near the airlock and we’ll redistribute and take inventory later. We’re doing food first, then general supplies. Weapons will be last. Crimson Heart didn’t have much, near as we can tell – mostly small arms and mining explosives, but I’m sure we’ll find a use for them.”
“Inform Lieutenant Letts that he may store the weapons between the hulls for now.” It would save the supply officer and his teams some time. “We will vent the air before we disembark.” That would add an insulating layer for any heat or flame-activated explosives. “In the meantime, I want all teams standing by for evacuation. If we detect any of Command’s ships coming in, all crew are to drop what they are doing. They will leave the supplies behind and evac immediately. We will not engage the fleet, even in a delaying action.” The crew would be gathered and they would flee. They were in no condition to combat the fleet.
“Aye,” Zarrey confirmed, “I will see to it.” There could be no confusion, no delay if an evac became necessary.
It was an abundance of caution. Even if the spy had exposed their position, it was unlikely a task force large enough to threaten the Singularity was nearby. Given the results of the battle in the Wilkerson Sector, Command was not likely to dispatch a single ship to combat the Singularity. They would gather a larger group prior to engaging. In that, the teams had time. The Admiral just had to gamble that it was enough time.
…And it was.
In the following six hours, the crew put forth a monumental effort to haul everything of value from Crimson Heart’s base onto the ship. The spy’s corpse was hauled off the bridge for cold storage, and the Aurora left, retracing their path out of the asteroid field before warping away. That seemed an odd choice to the Admiral, as warp travel could be traced, but perhaps the Aurora hoped they would follow. Of course, the Admiral had no intent to. With the Aurora gone, he had focused his efforts on scanning the far reaches of the system for any sign of UCSC fleet presence or Hydrian presence.
He had found neither. Beyond the battle debris, the pirate base, and their own support craft, there appeared to be nothing artificial left in the system. There was no trace of the Hydrian AI that conducted the cyberattack, and no hint of any relays or scouts allied to Command. Eventually, Galhino put herself together enough to return to her duties and took over the search. She said little and still shook, tears clearly dried on her cheeks, but the Admiral allowed it. Work would be a welcome distraction for her, so he had turned his attention to other matters.
He began to draw up theories on how or why Crimson Heart had accquired Hydrian technology and a live Hydrian prisoner. However, the motives and capability did not seem to fit together. Everything he knew about Hydrian society indicated that no Hydra or Hydrian AI would ever ally willingly to humanity, let alone to human pirates. Alternatively, everything they had seen from Crimson Heart’s capabilities indicated that they did not have the means to force a Hydrian AI to work for them, except by holding a Hydrian prisoner hostage. It was possible, even likely in the Admiral’s contemplation that the AI – known to belong to a Hydrian scoutship – had obeyed Crimson Heart’s objectives in exchange for the safety of its singular crew member. Yet that didn’t explain how Crimson Heart had attained a Hydrian prisoner in the first place, or why Command had planted an Indigo Agent amidst Crimson Heart’s members. Try as he might, Admiral Gives could not make all those puzzle pieces fit together. He could only wager that the Hydra had answers.
The appearance of the Cassiopeia Coalition’s flagship was an entirely different mystery. They had risked a lot in travelling so far beyond their sovereign space to find a ship full of traitors to the centralized government. Admiral Gives may have understood the risk if the Coalition had wanted or needed the ship’s bounty, but the request for a diplomatic meeting made no sense at all – never mind the fact that it had come from the Eternal Empress herself.
No clear answers to be had, the supply movement drew to a close. The end of the operation was nigh, made obvious as the frequency of Zarrey’s cussing had declined rapidly in the last few minutes. “We’re recalling everyone now, Admiral,” the Colonel said. “We’ve got what we came for.”
“Very well. Sound roll call.” He wanted no one left behind. “When that has finished, seal the airlocks and disengage from the station.” Admiral Gives turned to Ensign Alba, the boyish engineering officer. “Begin jump preparations.” Unlike the Aurora, they would not leave a trail to be traced when they left this system.
“Yes, sir,” Alba said. Bowing his head back to the controls, he began to reroute power to one of the ship’s FTL drives.
A few minutes later, Zarrey let out an over-dramatic sigh and slammed down the handset he’d been using to give orders to the crew below decks. “All hands accounted for. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
I can’t agree more, the Admiral thought. The ship and crew had given all they had today. Both were exhausted and in dire need of rest and repair. “Helm,” he prompted Jazmine.
The pilot nodded, and as the docking connections to the pirate base retracted, he eased the ship away from the base. It was a slow and easy movement, for even a low-speed collision could be devastating between two entities of such mass. When proper clearance had been achieved, Jazmine brushed his luscious hair back, and asked, “Back the way we came, sir?” That route out of the asteroid field was known to be free of traps.
“No,” the Admiral told him. “All stop. We will jump from here.” Ordinarily, jumping in regions that had high concentrations of material such as dust or debris was avoided. It raised the hazard level of the jump by a significant margin, but some part of the Admiral already insisted they had been here too long. The time it would take to fly back out of the asteroid belt was not worth the risk.
“Then we’ll make best time back toward the civvies and do repairs there?” Zarrey asked.
“No. We will take the first jump as planned.” That would render them untraceable by Crimson Heart. “But we will not proceed toward the fleet.” Not yet. “After this jump, begin repairs and focus on properly storing our bounty. Ensure everything is scanned for unknown devices and tested for toxicity.” Crimson Heart had likely placed trackers on their wares, and black-market goods were not known for their quality. Even something not meant to be poisonous could become so after being repackaged in the pirates’ warehouse.
“And then we can make for the fleet?” Zarrey inquired.
“Perhaps,” the Admiral told him. “There are still other matters to be addressed.” If they started toward the civilian refugee fleet before searching every possible source for a transponder, they may inadvertently reveal the fleet’s location. In that, they had to rule out being tracked by the pirates, the Hydra and Command itself.
Of those threats, logic insisted that Command would prove the most immediate. Thus, the corpse and its mysterious implant would be first priority.