As the screen switched off, all eyes in the command center turned to General Montague Tebbs. He was a veteran of the Qyrl war and one of only a handful of fighter pilots who had more than one kill on their record. Three gold lightning bolt symbols commemorated his score, and only two other people had four of them. It had been a few decades, but Tebbs still remembered that his was the exception. More than half of the young pilots, and he had been young himself back then, never returned from their very first mission.
„Get me those monkeys from the intelligence branch.“, he growled. Then: „No, wait. I’ll fly over myself. Let them know I’m coming and by the time I get there they better have some damn intel for me.“
He left the room through the security gate, two armored doors with a small room between them that, he knew because he had personally ordered them to be installed, featured most detectors and scanners known to man behind the faux walls. The command center itself was not actually a part of the building it was in, but rather suspended inside of it, with specially constructed supports. It was as secure against eavesdropping as human technology could make it. There was only one room more secure than this one in the entire Junkstorm. He was heading there.
An hour later, he walked through a similar gate into a similar room. The main difference was not visible from inside the room. In addition to all the measures of the command center, the intelligence service secrets room was not inside a building, it was inside an underground complex.
The other difference was the man inside. Instead of a military uniform, he was wearing an ordinary business suit. In fact, if someone had been tasked with designing the most boring, average, not noteworthy business suit he would have come up with exactly this one. Not just his suit but his entire appearance made the man someone you would forget five seconds after meeting them. This was very much intentional.
„Norman“, General Tebbs began, „tell me something I don’t already know.“ He sat down on one of the two couches facing each other across a low coffee table, the only furniture in the room. They filled it with a subtle smell of leather.
„Asking like that,“, Norman Jones, head of the Dangorod intelligence services, answered with an edge in his voice, „implies you don’t mean Erulas’ marines shooting our agents in the field, I assume?“
He slowly turned to face the table, and equally slowly moved to take a seat opposite the general.
„Wouldn’t have happened if your agent hadn’t run from their security check.“
Jones raised an eyebrow in the way one does when a child says something silly. „Those marines were about to blow my agent’s cover in front of too many witnesses.“
„That wouldn’t have been pretty, true. Is he going to be ok?“
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Jones nodded, slowly, measured. „He is recovering and should be able to walk again in a week or so. Dumb as the Erulas brutes are, they are good shooters, leg shot just like their training manuals say.“
„Good. Now as I said, tell me what you know. I come straight from a top-level meeting with the other planets and had the feeling I’m the one knowing the least about anything. Your people have too many secrets, even from us. Your job is to get intel for all the government branches, not keep it for yourself.“, Tebbs pointed out, leaning forward.
Jones leaned back on his couch, keeping his arms and hands at his sides, his body language a trained expression of nothing. „Officially, Montague, we let you know what you need to know. Between us two, that is often less than we would admit. Erulas blindsided us. We of course knew they were sending out marines to somewhere, but not where, and we were mislead about the timeline.“
„Their counter-intelligence getting better?“
„Afraid so.“
„So all we know is that some pirates nabbed a piece of alien tech that everyone wants to get their hands on?“
Jones nodded again, slowly, „Including all three planets in the Junkstorm. Thank you for confirming that information. I will need to pass it on to one of our agents who seems to be close.“
„More spies among the pirates?“
Jones slightly tilted his head. „Of course. But according to his reports, the crew that caused all the trouble had left the pirate outpost … “
„Black Sails“, the general interrupted
„Not that one.“, Jones corrected him, „The other one. Binary Bloom. Anyway, they left well before the marines arrived.“
„Wait“, General Tebbs wondered, his brows furrowed, „So the core isn’t on either of the pirate stations at all and Erulas is chasing ghosts?“
„Unknown. We know the pirate crew left, our man on the station could not say if they took the core with them or it is still on the station. According to his intel, they will be back soon, left their own ship behind and took another one. But yes, if Erulas thinks a bunch of marines can find a hyper core on a space station, they are fools. These things are typically the size of a big wardrobe. Especially on that station, with the derelict alien hull around, there are endless places where it could be.“
Tebbs sighed and leaned back again, his eyes wandering around the room for a moment. „So in summary, we have nothing except aliens breathing down our necks.“
„We have only a few sources outside the Junkstorm. That by pure chance one of them comes across this specific crew is highly unlikely. Nevertheless, what we know about the three of them has been sent out to all our agents.“
„And your attempts to just buy the damn thing?“
„Our agent on Binary Bloom says that their fence has indicated interest, but has another buyer that has priority. He is working on convincing her otherwise.“
„When I mentioned we had put an offer on the market in the inter-planet meeting, neither of the others said that they had done the same.“
„Might be a wealthy and well-connected individual. Might be aliens. Pirates tend to deal with whoever is paying enough and not asking questions.“
Tebbs sent the intelligence chief a penetrating gaze. „Double our offer. I’ll find the money in my budget somewhere. If everyone is so interested, there must be a reason. I want to know what it is.“
Jones raised his eyebrows again, just slightly. „I was not aware the military has a budget in intergalactic credits.“
„The… what?“, confusion rolled over Tebbs’ face like a wave, then disappeared. „Good to know the intelligence branch does. Why intergalactic?“
„It is what their mystery buyer offered. We needed to match it.“