Thorarinn Gunnarsson - Tactical Error

“That depends upon how you define civilization,” the Aldessan explained in a scholarly vein as they walked slowly together toward the lift. “You define civilization as one thing, and your enemies as another. To truly understand that question, you must first ask yourself what your enemy believes that civilization means to you, and then how he would attempt to destroy your concept of civilization.”

“I doubt very much that Donalt Trace entertains any thoughts of defeating me with philosophy. He believes in things that go bang.”

“Yes, there is that.”

Lenna Makayen had to think, and she had to think quickly. She had to find some way to distract the Union base from repelling the unexpected arrival of a pack of Starwolf fighters. Ideally, that distraction should be enough to keep an entire base the size of a city from even being aware of the arrival of the Starwolves. That made the answer seem simple enough. She had to arrange an accident that would take out the installation’s surveillance coordination system, particularly that part which correlated scanners and the defensive systems.

That was a really good idea, but she had never found that particular section of the base.

Unable to do the damage she wanted, Lenna had to consider other distractions. The best solution seemed to be something that would frighten Union Command, something that would threaten to be very nasty if it got out of hand, something that would draw a lot of attention to itself and cause a fair amount of concern and confusion. Considering the rather stripped and deserted condition of the base, there were very few alternatives. She would have to do something with the warehouses or adjacent underground hangar bays that were still in use.

Once she determined that, matters became fairly simple. There was one little supply and munitions freighter that had her name on it. Actually, it was named the Fireflower, but that was close enough for her purposes. It seemed to Lenna that a small explosion and fire quite close to that ship would make the locals very nervous for some time. The explosion of the ship itself would take out the entire freighter bay complex. She did not consider that very likely, but she would not worry if things did get out of hand.

Accompanied by Bill, she took the trams through the installation to the freighter bays. They had been in the heart of enemy territory for some time now, and the complete lack of trouble they had encountered had bred a certain lack of concern on her own part. This was an uninhabited world in a remote system, a fact that had apparently led to a complete lack of suspicion among the base personnel. According to simple logic, no one could possibly be here who did not belong. She had taken advantage of Bill’s enhanced ability to interface with the simpler Union computers to have herself established in the roster as a technical support lieutenant and even assigned a very nice apartment in officer’s territory. Her rank and area of specialty gave her the run of the base, credentials that she could now prove beyond any doubt.

“What about it, Bill?” she asked as they took the tram to the hangar bay. “Do you think that we should set a fire beside that ship?”

“No,” Bill answered, simply and frankly. She glanced at him.

“Why not?”

“It is not safe.”

“Then what do you think we should do?” she asked.

“We should do that. It is safer than other things.”

Lenna sat back in her seat and sighed. “Why do I even talk to you?”

Bill’s diligent little processors contemplated that very question for several well-considered nanoseconds. “Because you have no choice.”

The tram transversed many unseen kilometers deep beneath the ice and rock, through the maze of corridors that Lenna was beginning to know very well and to detest with a passion. She had been wandering about in this warren of high technology with a fairly high degree of impunity, having realized very early on that security was almost non-existent on the inside. Once the Starwolves started on their way down, things were going to become very different in a hurry.

Lenna paused to look about. Fortunately all Union military installations were perfectly alike in one respect; the instructions were written on the walls. She sometimes wondered if they built these things from kits, with everything labeled. She followed the arrows down the corridor for a few dozen meters and entered a wide door on her left, finding herself on the observation deck overlooking the hangar bay. The freighter filled the nearer half of the bay, surrounded by shipping crates stacked together in small groups.

“Munitions?” she asked.

Bill stepped up close to the window, aiming the lenses of his cameras at the scene below. He had the advantage of telescopic vision, with the ability to computer-enhance a frozen image that was too far away for simple optics to identify clearly. “Not many munitions. Those groups of long crates nearest the ship’s middle bay doors are labeled as missiles. The remainder are standard personal supplies and environmental stocks.”

“Like paper?” Lenna asked, in a tone of voice that indicated she had something in mind.

“Paper supplies are stacked well to one side, presumably to reduce the risk of fire,” the sentry explained. “One group is labeled as personal paper supplies.”

“Personal?”

“Very personal,” Bill explained. He was a very discreet machine indeed. Lenna wondered about that. He had been rebuilt and programmed by Starwolves, who were not entirely discreet.

“That might be a very good place to start,” she commented to herself, then turned to the sentry. “Shall we go and have a look, my good automaton. Lead the way.”

Although there were crews on the deck, she saw no more than half a dozen or so cargo handlers. Lenna elected that a bold assault was probably the best course. She doubted that anyone would cast a suspicious thought at a technical officer in the company of one of their own automated sentries. Sneaking about was out of the question. One thing that Bill had never learned to do at all well was to sneak successfully.

The shipping crates were stacked neatly near one wall, well away from the front of the ship or any of the major corridors leading into the bay. Everything looked very promising, so far. The crates themselves were of light plastic, not the metal for heavier cargo, and their tops were locked down by simple spring clips. Lenna checked the labels on the ends of the crates and chose one that indicated the paper products that Bill had succinctly described, releasing the clips to look inside.

“Yes, this will do nicely,” she commented, then glanced at Bill. “I’ll be all right. You go over to freighter bay twelve and see what you can do about opening the overhead doors. You’re to go ahead and guide the Starwolves down when I send you the word, whether I can get there before they land or not. We are going to have to move quickly when things start.”

“You will need a com link,” Bill reminded her, stepping around close and popping open his computer interface access panel.

Lenna reached in and removed one of the small com units. The one she took had only limited range, but it was also designed to look like a perfectly ordinary pen to the point that it could actually write. Its limitations would not be a problem to her, under the present circumstances. The access panel began to close.

“Be off with you, now,” she told the sentry. “You be very quiet and very careful, the best you’ve ever done. I know that you can do it.”

“I will be careful,” Bill promised her as he prepared to turn away. Then he paused, as if in a moment of contemplation. “Sure now, and you be careful to keep your bony ass out of trouble as well.”