THE PRIZE: BOOK TWO - RETRIBUTION, page 34
Chapter Twenty-One
End Game
“Lieutenant Amraa Hassar. I have an assignment for you.”
“Yes, Colonel.”
“I’m giving you a field promotion to Captain and placing you in charge of this station.”
“What! - I mean thank you, Colonel, but…”
“But what, Captain? Is there something you don’t understand about my orders?”
“Um - No, sir. It’s just that - I thought I was going with you.” Hassar’s eyes remained locked on a point on the bulkhead over Penn right shoulder as he came over and stood before the newly promoted Captain.
“It might have come to your notice Captain that I am not in the habit of repeating myself.” Hassar swallowed.
“No, sir - I mean yes, sir that had come to my attention.”
“Good. You will assume command of this station and get it back into working order. That means getting rid of the assorted scum and turning this place back into the station it was intended to be in the first place. A trading and monitoring station. Is that clear enough?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then carry on and be about your new duties.” Hassar saluted, about faced and marched out of the office. Penn flicked his eyes to Sergeant Brask, seeing a slight smile on his hard face.
“You have something to say, Sergeant?”
“That was one way of getting rid of the young fool.”
“The other being?”
“Slitting his throat.”
“A rather bloodthirsty method to deal with the problem, Sergeant, but unnecessary in this case.
“If you say so, sir. What now?”
“Now I take over the Fleet. Follow me.”
Taking his usual position, three steps behind Penn, he ported his weapon and followed Penn up to the communication center. He put a belated call to the Admiral of the Fleet and waited for a reply. It wasn’t long in coming, and a portly, older Var appeared on the screen. Penn schooled his features into a hard mask, one that Director Markoff would have recognized. He called it the Penn killer look. The old Admiral immediately launched into a tirade about junior officers refusing to answer is calls, and what happened to said officers who did that. Penn let him rant, keeping his face impassive, and his eyes hidden behind the shades. Getting no response from the black dressed human with the twin lightning bolts of the Imperial Security Special Command Unit on his collar, he finally ran down.
“Well! What have you to say for yourself Colonel?” He demanded at last.
“Are your Chief of Security and Master at Arms present, Admiral?”
“What - no, of course not.” The question took him by surprise and his face pulled into a puzzled frown.
“Then I suggest you bring them to the bridge at once.”
“Why in the name of the Holy Mother should I do that?”
“Because I will need their services to make some arrests.”
“Yours being the first, I presume.”
“No, sir - members of your senior staff in connection with a plot against the Emperor.” The Admiral’s face blanched and he turned his head to say something to someone off screen. Penn took to pacing back and forth across the communication room, ignoring the Admiral’s demands for him to explain. At last, the two people he’d asked for came onto the bridge, and the screen zoomed out to show all three of them.
“What this about a plot against the Emperor?” The Fleet Security Officer demanded. Penn noted the twin lightning bolts on his collar. He was IMPSEC, not Navy and so much the better. Penn slowly walked back and stopped in front of the pickup and waited a moment before bringing his hand from behind his back holding some documents.
“While investigating reports of a conspiracy in the Fleet, I tried to question this station’s commander. I failed to do so as Var Petofi chose to take his own life before I was able.”
“Go on. We did hear of that unfortunate event.”
“I did however manage to review the contents of his vault, and it came to my attention that several high ranking officers in your fleet are implicated in a plot to depose the Emperor and replace him with another person more amenable to the concerns of the Var elite. General Nassis and his late nephew being two of them.”
“Holy Mother - and you have proof of this?” Penn looked down at the documents in his hand.
“Var Hartag, Var Lockoff, and Var Tween. Please have them arrested immediately.”
“This is preposterous - I know those Var personally…” The Admiral spluttered.
“Oh yes, and Admiral Var Zarakoff of course.” Penn added. The Admiral’s name wasn’t on the list, but he was betting the old Var knew of the plot.
“What - you can’t do that… I’m… I’m…” But even as he spluttered his innocence’s the Master at Arms came forward and relieved him of his sidearm and secured his hands behind his back.
“I will interrogate them myself, and I’m sure I will discover additional officers involved in this murderous plot against our beloved Emperor.” Penn almost gagged saying that, but it sounded right. As the protesting Admiral was led away, another officer stepped into view.
“Colonel - I’m Var Danoff, Captain of this ship - what are your orders, sir.”
“As of this moment, you are hereby promoted to the temporary rank of Admiral. I shall be aboard shortly to meet with you, and begin interrogating the prisoners.”
“Of course, Colonel.”
“I do hope that you are not among those the prisoners named who are also connected with this plot, Admiral.” Penn gave him a smile, seeing the Tellurian visibly shiver.
Knowing the Var, especially high Var, Penn would have bet his best boots and garters most of the senior officers on the flagship were aware of the plot. The high Var were always plotting, mostly against Director Markoff rather than the Emperor, but then again, who wasn’t plotting against Markoff. Penn killed the connection before anyone could ask him any more questions. That should bring the pot to a boil very nicely before he arrived. Returning to his commandeered living quarters, Penn prepared to leave, but as he was about to walk out, Brask held his hand up.
“That was nicely done, Sir, but I think we might have a problem the moment you walk onto that ship.” Penn stopped, a slight frown on his face, wondering what he’d forgotten, and what Brask was talking about.
“What did I forget?” In answer, Brask pointed to the lintel over the doorway.
“It took me a while to catch it, but as you and the boys have walked in and out of the room, the scanner control panel has flashed red.”
“Shit!” It was something he should have remembered.”
All imperial facilities had scanners embedded in the main doorways so that every time someone walked through, it scanned the implanted chip all Tellurians had implanted at birth. It registered their name, status, rank if they had one, and other miscellaneous personal data. Even slaves had them implanted during processing and reported who owned them and what places or facilities they were permitted to enter. As the two boys had never been processed, but purchased from some slaver on the station, the scanner would flash red as unauthorized, as it did when Penn walked through. Due to his odd metabolism, every chip Markoff implanted in the back of his neck dissolved within a couple of days. Normally the chips were tamper proof and designed to explode if they were tampered with or removed. The explosion wasn’t large, just sufficient to sever the person’s spinal column and kill them. Of course, Penn had never told Markoff how he’d managed to remove the chips, not that he had to, his body did that naturally. Now the problem was, the moment he stepped aboard that ship the bio scanner would start beeping and flashing red. That would alert the ship’s security detail that he was unauthorized, something no genuine IMPSEC officer or Tellurian crewmember would ever be.
“Var Petofi must have had a chip security override so he could update a chip.”
“True, sir. Most commanders do, so they can update your chip if you get a promotion, or demotion in some cases, or change of status, but there’s not much we can do if someone doesn’t have one in the first place, like you and the boys.”
“Yes, that is a bit of a problem.”
“I have an idea, sir, but you might not like it.” Without explaining he walked into the bedroom, returning a few moments later holding out a large yellow lace napkin, or handkerchief.”
“And?” Penn asked.
“I noticed before in other places that some Var who liked umm… well boys, wear something like this tucked into the sleeve of their coats. They’d take it out and wipe their lips, or sniff it occasionally.” Penn took the offered handkerchief, finding Brask had applied a goodly amount of perfume.
“So, I pass the boys off as my personal servants and bed warmers I take it.”
“Yes, sir. No one is going to question it, but what about you? The moment you pass a scanner the game will be up.” Penn thought about it for a moment, then smiled.
“My Dad once told me something which I found was true on Earth as it is with Tellurians at least.” Brask looked puzzled. “Do you ever question an officer’s orders, Brask?”
“I’m not sure I understand the question, sir.”
“Simple, you see someone in an officer’s uniform or another sergeant for that matter, did you ever stop to question his authority or orders?” Brask thought about it for a moment and shook his head.
“No, sir. I don’t remember ever having done that. Why?”
“Because it seems to be a universal rule that we believe what we see, the mask you might say. If I was dressed, say as a priest, would you question whether I was one or not?”
“No, can’t say that I would, and you are right, we do believe what we see. But how does that help you?”
“Simple. If I present myself as an officer of unknown rank belonging to some ultra secret division of Imperial Security, who is going to question it?”
“Someone might, say the flagship Security Chief, he’s IMPSEC, and they are a suspicious lot at the best of times.”
“Good point.” Penn paced back and forth for a moment. “What if… get Trooper E’shee in here. I have a job for him.” While he waited, Penn spoke to the boys.
“I’m going to pass you off as my personal servants and bed warmers. Can you handle that?” They nodded. “By the way, how long have you two been here and how old are you?”
“I’m fifteen, and he’s fourteen, and we’ve been here for um…” Terrance looked at Remy, seeing his shrug. “I think we’ve been here for about two years, sir, but it’s difficult to keep track of time.” Penn’s jaw tightened, the muscles along his jaw line bunching up, making the boys draw back a little.
“Var Petofi didn’t treat us badly… didn’t beat us too much.” They both looked at the floor, both blushing in shame.
“It isn’t your fault, and that piece of filth has paid the price. No one is ever going to treat you that way ever again, or beat you. Understand?” They looked up and nodded.
“Trooper E’shee reporting, sir.”
“Good. Here’s what I want you to do.” Penn carefully explained what he wanted, seeing E’shee smile.
“I can do that, sir, but it might take me a while. I’ll have to go down to the main concourse for some of what I need.”
“No problem, but take someone with you just in case. Report to me as soon as you’ve finished. While E’shee was off following his orders, Penn used the time to rob the rest of the citizens on the station. They only got into two firefights, both with the local crime lords who thought their armies were tough enough to take on Imperial Trooper’s in full battle armor. They were wrong. He picked those two first, as it made robbing the rest that much easier.
“That went well, sir.” Brask grinned looking down at the scorched blaster marks on the front of his armor.”
“Told you to duck.”
“Have you tried ducking in full power armor, sir?”
“No, can’t say that I have.”
“Thought not.”
“Speaking of which. I think you and the troops need to smarten up your armor. Gloss black with a gold stripe down each arm.”
“Make us look real pretty painted like that.”
“Yes, and hell of a sight more intimidating. You are a special trooper assigned to um… let’s call it Department X.”
“Yes, sir. That could work out nicely. I’ll find a suit paint shop and get it done.”
Using robo-mules, Brask arranged for the loot to be transported to the ship, adding several hundred thousand gold credits to his total. Looking ahead, Penn could see a need for ready capital, not only to bribe people as needed but also to buy critical supplies, or special weapons. In all it took another day before they were ready to depart, and check out the results of E’shee’s work. It actually came out a lot more impressive than he’d thought, as E’shee had added a few touches of his own. Standing by the port at the end of the loading dock, Penn waited until everyone except he and Brask had boarded before walking aboard himself. Brask followed, walking backward just in case there was some last-ditch effort to prevent them from leaving, cycling the hatch shut as he went through himself.
“You look very impressive, Sergeant Brask, and I like the nice touch with the scarlet short cloaks for the troopers.”
“I didn’t want anyone thinking we were just ordinary Imperial Marines, sir.”
“No, we wouldn’t want that. Make sure you get separate quarters for you and the troops once we get aboard the flagship.”
“Will do, sir. Us special troops wouldn’t want to mix with the rest of the rabble.” With his helmet on, it was difficult to know if he was laughing or not, but Penn suspected he was. Entering the bridge, Penn took his usual seat.
“Everything ready for departure, pilot?”
“Yes, sir. All loaded up with fuel and supplies, sir.”
“Good. Take us out and head for the flagship. I’m sure they will be calling you with landing instructions very soon.”
“Yes, sir.”
The short journey went without incident, as Penn suspected it would, but you could never tell with nervous Tellurians. Blowing his ship to space dust might solve a lot of problems for any number of people in the Fleet. They came in on a glide path that took them to a landing bay near the bow of the flagship and the bridge. Even so, Penn took the opportunity to shower and change, finding that Brask was foresighted enough to arrange for another uniform for him. Coming out of the shower, he found both boys busily laying out his new clothes. Oddly, Penn felt slightly embarrassed being naked in front of them. More so than the boys themselves, but he supposed that after two years in the hands of that scum-sucking pervert seeing a nude man walking around no longer had the same effect on them. He quickly pulled on underwear and took the pants Rem held out for him.
“Hey, you needn’t do this you know. You’re free now.” Rem smiled shyly at him.
“We know, sir, but we are your personal servants now, right?”
“No - no. That’s only to get you on board the flagship and a cover, it’s not for real.” Terrance looked at him and smiled.
“We know. I… we guess we’d better act the part at least.” He answered, handing Penn a white silk shirt. Penn eyed it and the lace cuffs and ruffled front.
“What’s this?”
“We took it and some other things from Var Petofi’s room at Sergeant Brask’s suggestion. He said you’d want to look the part of a…” He hesitated and looked embarrassed. “Um… someone who likes boys.” He said in a rush. Penn nodded. It made sense.
He finished dressing, stamping his feet into the shiny high-topped boots and took the coat Rem held out. He shrugged into it and looked in the mirror, shaking his head. The high collared, cut away jacket was the same midnight black as the pants and boots. Unlike his other one, the high collar was open at the front permitting the ruffle on the silk shirt to show. It also had two rows of shiny gold buttons down the front and the twin IMPSEC lightning bolts on the collar. Penn thought to put his rank insignia over his breast pocket but thought better of it. If E’shee had done his work right, there was no need for it. The boys made him into sit while they trimmed and brushed his short blond hair, and cleaned and buffed his fingernails.
“Docking with the flagship, sir.” Brask announced, knocking and ducking into his cabin. “Oh nice. Very nice, sir. That should impress the hell out of them.”
“It impresses the hell out of me. What made you think of it?” He asked looking down at his clothes.
“I’ve always noticed that the damned Var dress up like they were going to a party instead of like working officers like they should. The higher the rank, the more gaudily they dress.”
“You’ve got that right.”
“So, you have to out do them in clothes and snotty attitude.” He grinned. A slight thump vibrated through the ship and they knew they were down in the shuttle bay.
“Let’s get the bloody show on the road and hope we carry this off.” Pen muttered, putting his shades on. The only thing he was a little upset about was the fact he couldn’t wear his knives in this getup. All he could do was rely on his super human speed if everything went sideways.
It was a scary thought even for Penn. His usual mode of operation was stealth and staying in the shadows to get to his objective. Depending on Markoff’s orders, the kill was either clean or messy. Clean would be an accident, like the capture field at the bottom of a drop shaft failing, or the unfortunate individual falling into some working equipment. Messy would be someone finding the body with its throat cut from ear to ear and a slowly spreading pool of blood. It all depended on the message Markoff wanted to send to the Var elite, or to simply eliminate a particular Var who’d become a nuisance, or had just pissed him off. Either way, mostly not even the victim knew he was there until the poor bugger got his throat slit. This time he would be out in the open for all to see, and for an assassin that wasn’t a comfortable feeling. Not only would he be under the gun, so to speak, but also subject to scrutiny by the flagship’s bio scanners. To put it mildly, there was a certain pucker factor in this and the distinct possibility of not being able to catch up with Ellis. That thought scared him more than he liked to admit. It was either carry this off and rescue her, if she needed rescuing, or failing and losing his life and Ellis.
