Charles Gannon - Raising Caine

Shethkador frowned. “That is absurd. The Aboriginals have no way to reach that system. And if they could, such an act would be folly. It is in the Aboriginals’ interests to encourage calm relations and secure an extended peace for both reconstruction and technological upgrades. They are not behind this madness.”

“Your wisdom guides my opinions, Potent Srin. But if it is not the Aboriginals, then who could it be?”

“That, Olsirkos, is a most interesting question. And one to which you shall find the answer.”

“Me, Fearsome Srin?”

“Yes, you. The shift-destroyer Will-Breaker is due within the week. You shall take command of her and surreptitiously investigate what is transpiring in that system, especially its main world, Turkh’saar.”

“Of course, Fearsome Srin. But what of maintaining a watch for the renegade Perekmeres who absconded with Red Lurker and the Aboriginal shift-carrier Arbitrage ?”

“That is part of why I must remain here at Sigma Draconis. That, and to be on hand for the postsurrender talks that the Autarchs have instructed me to request. But I would not at all be surprised if, in the course of investigating the current insanity arising on Turkh’saar, you come across the spoor of these Perekmeres curs.”

“You think that they may be behind this disturbance, Honored Srin?”

“Possibly. There is a smell of desperation about this ‘raiding,’ and the renegades of an Extirpated House would certainly bear that reek, themselves. Besides, they might correctly perceive that a precipitous plunge into another war with the Aboriginals and their allies could be parlayed into a rise in their fortunes.”

“If I find evidence of the Perekmeres’ involvement, shall I seek them out and destroy them, Srin Shethkador?”

“Your primary task is to observe and report, Olsirkos.” The Progenitors only know that the subtleties of statecraft are not within the compass of your abilities . “Then I shall determine how we shall respond. But presently, I have a most unpleasant task to attend to.”

“Further analysis of the peace treaty between the Aboriginals and the Arat Kur?”

“Worse. I must update the Autarchs on the situation here. Give word to ready the Sensorium. I will Contact the Autarchs by Reification within the hour. Now leave me. There is much work to be done if these Aboriginals are not to get out of hand.”

Commodore Steven Cameron, skipper of the Commonwealth cruiser Valiant , acting C-in-C for the Delta Pavonis system — and therefore, its glorified traffic control supervisor — frowned when his comm officer, Lieutenant Stephanie Souders, turned to him with a deep frown. She handed him the transponder code, tail number, and supplementary Commonwealth identifiers relayed by the incoming Wolfe-class corvette. He stared at the unfamiliar data strings. “What the hell is this? Or more to the point, who the hell is this?”

“I wish I could tell you, Skipper,” Souders replied with crossed arms. “Not on the list of craft that have entered Delta Pavonis. Ever.”

“Bloody hell,” Cameron muttered. And right at the end of his duty shift. Almost as if someone had planned it that way. Which gave him pause: was it possible that someone had planned it that way? Bollocks, I’m starting at shadows now. “Raise this, eh, UCS Puller , Lieutenant. Let’s hear their story.”

“Better be a good one,” Souders grumbled. “Line is open, sir.”

“UCS Puller , this is Commodore Steven Cameron, acting CINCPAV and captain of the UCS Valiant . Please confirm identity, and report mission and status.”

The flat screen brightened and revealed a vaguely familiar face sitting at the center of a patched-up bridge; Puller had evidently seen some action in the late war. “This is Commodore Caine Riordan, temporarily in command of UCS Puller on detached duty. Special operations. Relaying ops codes and authorizations now.”

Souders turned towards Cameron, eyebrows raised, and tilted her head at the supplementary screen where the new data and codes were scrolling in. Cameron put on his best poker face. “Commodore Riordan—” and then he knew why he recognized the face. “Commodore, are you the same Caine Riordan who presented at the Parthenon Dialogs last year?”

Riordan’s expression was a fusion of a smile and a grimace. “Guilty as charged.”

“A pleasure to meet you, si — Commodore. But your OpOrds are, well, most irregular. And incomplete.”

Riordan’s smile was amiable. “They sure are, Commodore Cameron. Wish I could share it all with you, but I can’t. Here’s the classification level for the redacted components of the op, and my own, er, non-Naval clearance level.” He nodded to someone off screen.

Souders’ frown deepened. “Commodore,” she muttered, “I don’t even recognize his code.”

“I do,” Cameron replied.

“What is it?”

“I was told that if I ever see this code and this classification level, I have one relevant directive: not to ask a damn thing about it. Run it through the black box; if it checks out, he’s got all the authority he needs to do whatever he wants.”

Souders waited for the secure cypher check to finish. “Comes back green, sir.”

Cameron nodded, glanced up at Riordan. “Sorry about the delay, Commodore. Protocols.”

Riordan’s smile was broad, easy. “I fully understand, Commodore. Do I have permission to initiate descent to the Shangri La subcontinent on DeePeeThree?”

“You do, but before you dip your nose into the cloud-tops, I wonder if you could give me a broad picture of what to expect?”

Riordan raised an eyebrow. “Pardon?”

Cameron leaned back. “Commodore, you’re about to head dirtside to the same place where you made first contact. You might say, to the source of all the troubles we’ve had since then. And from what I understand of your last visit, the Colonial Development Combine was not particularly enamored of you when you left.”

Riordan’s smile became rueful. “You have a talent for understatement, Commodore Cameron.”

“So I’ve been told. What I’m asking is: should I be prepared for a firestorm on Shangri La or elsewhere?”

Riordan steepled his fingers. “That is an excellent question. I wish I had an excellent answer. Part of why we’re going in unannounced is because we don’t really know what we’re going to find. Sure, we get groundside reports, but those are from civilian observers who could be very, very bribable. That’s why the cloak-and-dagger approach, Commodore.”

“Which raises another question: just how did you get here at all? I’ve no record of Puller, or any Wolfe-class corvette, deploying here.”

“That’s because we were containerized for security purposes before shift, then were cut loose in our container shortly after we were carried in-system.”

“Carried in-system by what carrier, Commodore?”

Riordan smiled. “Wish I could tell you.”

“Does that mean you can’t or you won’t tell me?”

“Both, actually. As you can see, various elements of our full orders are classified, including our assignment to this detached duty. Fleet didn’t want any CoDevCo stooges inside our ranks to be able to pass along a warning that we’re about to show up to run a compliance check here. So everything pertaining to our reassignment and transport to this system was kept under wraps. But frankly, I couldn’t tell you who gave us the ride even if I was allowed to. Naval ops boxed us up, let us sit, and then some shift-carrier came and picked us up. It never identified itself. We were handled by an intelligence cell, not the skipper of the ship, and those folks didn’t share out any info. Once we got here, we were told to lay doggo until our secure mission clock ran down. That happened three days ago. And here we are.”