Chapter 14: Under the Gun

“We recovered the email chain from his inbox,” Boyd said, Moralez holding a finger to his ear as he marched along the torus. “He’d deleted the messages and done a couple of overwrite passes, but reconstructing the files from the data fragments was pretty simple with UNNI tools. It’s exactly as he described, the guy isn’t hiding anything from us. He’s been pretty forthcoming since he woke up in the interrogation room.”

The Chief’s eyes scanned the scrolling text as it appeared on his wrist-mounted monitor, reading through the emails. The first message had arrived out of the blue, the sender had no prior contact with Sinclair from what they could tell. It included the date and time of the Bug ambassador’s arrival on the station, along with a spiel about patriotism and avenging the dead that was designed to spur the would-be assassin into action. There was also an attached file, a photo of the Bug that had been taken planetside, tall trees visible in the background. Moralez would recognize that pearly carapace anywhere, he had never seen another critter like her.

What followed was a back-and-forth between Sinclair and the anonymous whistleblower, or at least that was how the sender had styled himself. They had brainstormed together, going over their plan, laying out every detail. Much of it had been Sinclair’s own brainchild, but in retrospect, it was easy to see how the man had been manipulated. For all his engineering expertise, he was unwell, and this person had known exactly how to prod at his wounds.

“They must have had access to Sinclair’s service record and some kind of psych profile,” Moralez muttered into his mic. “Were you able to trace the source of the message?”

“Negatori on that one, Chief,” Boyd replied. “We traced it back to the Pinwheel’s quantum comms array, so it was definitely sent from off-station. From there, we tracked it back to the nearest relay, but it looks like the message was bounced all over known space. We have it passing through relays in orbit around a dozen colonies, there’s no way to determine its origin.”

“Fuck,” Moralez muttered.

“We did find something interesting, though,” Boyd added. “We were able to recover the EXIF data from the attached image file. We have a timestamp, a location, and a device ID. The photo was taken on Jarilo a couple of weeks before the meeting, using an integrated camera in a tablet computer model used primarily by UNN personnel. It wasn’t a candid shot, looks like something that might have been used for identification purposes, maybe circulated to people who were in the loop.”

“So we can be sure that the message came from someone in the UNN?” Moralez asked.

“Someone with enough clearance to see that picture leaked it, yeah. Is that the same person who sent the messages to Sinclair? I don’t see a reason to assume otherwise.”

“Good work, Agents,” the Chief added. “I’m on my way to see Admiral Vos, he has a lot of explaining to do.”

Moralez marched into the Admiral’s office, Vos rising from his seat behind the mahogany desk. He set down a tablet computer that he had been reading from, his brow furrowing, his eyes darting suspiciously between the Chief and the two Shock Troopers who were flanking him.

“What is the meaning of this intrusion, Security Chief?” he demanded. “If you want to see me, then you can make an appointment like everyone else. I’m very busy.”

“I’m afraid that my business with you is rather urgent, Admiral” Moralez replied. He nodded to his two guards, and they remained by the door as he made his way over to the desk. “We’ve succeeded in apprehending the man who fired on the hub. We have a confession, and we recovered the weapon that was used. The UNNI Agents are interrogating him as we speak.”

“That’s ... good,” Vos replied reluctantly, scratching his chin with a gloved hand. “Congratulations, Security Chief. I suppose I underestimated your abilities.”

“You made my job a lot harder with the time limit that you imposed,” Moralez continued, “yet here we are.”

“Are you expecting an apology?” Vos scoffed. “You did your job, that’s what we pay you for. I’m not going to give you a medal for cleaning up a mess that you helped to create.”

“No, I wouldn’t expect an apology from you,” Moralez said. The implied insult wasn’t lost on the Admiral. He opened his mouth, probably about to reprimand the Chief, but he was interrupted. “I didn’t come all the way up here just to give you a report that could have been sent over the intranet,” Moralez continued. “I’ve just had a very interesting encounter with the SWAR operatives that you brought aboard my station.”

“What manner of encounter?” Vos asked, narrowing his eyes.

“They interfered while we were apprehending the suspect and attempted to take him into custody themselves, very nearly creating a situation where we were forced to fire on them. They put the suspect’s life, and ours, in jeopardy. It was unprofessional, to say the least.”

“The Lieutenant Commander must have thought that you were incapable of capturing the fugitive yourself,” Vos said. “I see that the situation was resolved to your mutual satisfaction regardless.”

“I recall you ordering Murphy not to interfere in my investigation,” Moralez added, meeting the Admiral’s angry stare. “He and his men clandestinely monitored my team’s comms, then boarded the station in a decidedly illicit manner just as the suspect was about to surrender to me peacefully. They hit him with a stun gun and knocked him out, then tried to haul him off to some kind of ... black site. If I hadn’t had a full squad of Shock Troopers with me, I get the impression that things might have gone down a little differently.”

“What are you after?” Vos asked, leaning his hands on his desk as he glowered across it at Moralez. “You got the outcome that you wanted, you caught the fugitive, and you have the satisfaction of proving me wrong in front of the Admiralty. It didn’t escape my attention that you and Lieutenant Commander Murphy didn’t exactly start out on the best of terms. If you’re expecting me to reprimand him for stepping on your toes, I won’t. I trust him to interpret my orders.”

“The case isn’t quite closed,” Moralez continued, crossing his prosthetic arms as the Admiral raised an eyebrow. “We apprehended the shooter, yes, but he wasn’t working alone. Someone with high enough clearance to know that the Bug was going to be on the station, and when, leaked the information to him. They manipulated him, goaded him on. We have the emails that were sent between the two parties. We also have EXIF data from a photograph that links the culprit back to the UNN.”

The Admiral’s eyes wandered over to the two Borealans who were standing guard at his office door, their faces hidden behind their visors.

“That explains the extra muscle,” he muttered, “not that you need it. I saw what you did to Admiral Rawling.”

“Then you know that I’ve brought in corrupt Admirals before,” Moralez replied. “It’s becoming a trend as of late.”

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised,” Vos said, collapsing into his chair and rubbing his temple with one hand. “I’ve never given you cause to trust me, of course this is the conclusion that you would reach. When the reports from the UNNI agents that I had assigned to keep tabs on you became ... less informative, I guessed that they had added me to the list of suspects. I have to commend you for being thorough, at least.”

“I would prefer that you came quietly,” Moralez continued. “I don’t want to haul you out of this office, but I will.”

“These accusations should infuriate me,” Vos said, his usual pep returning for a moment. “But I know that I’m partially to blame for this. You want the truth? Well, here it is. I don’t like you, Moralez. I never have. I captained the UNN ‘Ardennais’ when the war broke out, I ran a damned tight ship. That crew worked like a well-oiled machine, they knew what I expected of them before I even gave the order. But this station ... it’s in a state of chaos. Controlled chaos, as I have learned, but chaos none the less. You’re like a child with a messy room. The place might look like a Jovian squatter camp to me, but you know where every loose sock is, don’t you?”

Moralez didn’t reply, watching the Admiral warily as he continued.

“When the incident happened on the hub, I saw it as an opportunity to oust you, to replace you with someone who would return Fort Hamilton to its military roots. I gave you a task that I didn’t think you could complete, but you proved the Admirals who appointed you right. They were wise to place their trust in you, wiser than I have been.”

“You engineered the assassination ... just as an excuse to fire me?” Moralez asked in disbelief.

“No,” Vos replied adamantly, “I had nothing to do with that.”

“You really expect me to believe that?”

“Of course not, have you not listened to a word that I’ve said? I know why you reached this conclusion, but you’re wrong, Security Chief. Think about it. If I had goaded this ... this person into assassinating the ambassador, then why on God’s green Earth would I have wanted to be in the same room when it happened? I read the crime scene report. An inch to the left and that slug could have hit me instead. He forgets to carry a one, and everything in that conference room gets turned into a fine, red vapor. Why would I expose myself to that kind of danger?”

“You act as though extremists and revolutionaries never put themselves at risk to accomplish their goals,” Moralez said.

“Don’t be a fool,” Vos snapped, “it would have been trivial for me to have someone attend the conference in my place. This fucking station is crawling with diplomats,” he added with a sneer. “Now I’m going to do what I should have done from the start.”

“And what’s that?” Moralez asked warily.

“Help you. I supervised this entire op. I know who had access to the leaked information, I know where they were, and when. I kept the list of people involved small to minimize the risk of leaks, not that it helped, clearly. Only a handful of personnel knew about the ambassador’s visit in advance, that information should narrow your search considerably.”

“And what about classified information?” Moralez continued. “SWAR, UNNI, Black Ops. Your op was crawling with spooks.”

“You’ll get it all,” the Admiral replied. “I should have given it to you from day one.”

“Please have the files sent to my associates,” Moralez added. “I have to admit, assigning the two UNNI agents to the investigation was a smart move. They proved to be very useful, much less of a pain in the ass than I expected.”

“I have great faith in them,” Vos replied. Moralez turned and made his way to the door, then paused, looking back over his shoulder.

“And Admiral? It’s nice to be working for the same side again.”

“If it wasn’t the Admiral, then it has to have been someone on this list,” Moralez said. He was back in his office, Boyd and Lorza standing nearby as they watched the names scroll past on his monitor.

“Forward the file to my tablet,” Boyd said, Lorza peering over his shoulder as they got a better look.

“The list of names is indeed small,” she said, her blue eyes reflecting the glow of the screen. “There are only a dozen people involved.”

“Vos said that he wanted to limit the potential for leaks,” Moralez added, “and he would have succeeded if it wasn’t for the traitor. It’s like you said, Agent Lorza, nobody plans for an attack from within.”

“Let’s see,” Boyd muttered as he ran his finger down the list. “Vos and the other Admirals, me and Lorza, Walker, our Courser pilot, Murphy, a few others...”

“It’s got to be Murphy,” Moralez said, leaning back in his chair. “He had advanced knowledge of the Bug’s visit, he has a background in intelligence, so he would know how to manipulate Sinclair. Him showing up in the hangar bay was just too weird, it came off more like he was trying to clean up evidence than helping to bring in the suspect. I guarantee that if we’d allowed him to take Sinclair, we’d never have heard from the engineer again.”

“I agree,” Boyd replied with a nod. “There are Black Ops fingerprints all over this case, they taught us the same techniques in UNNI.”

“But what of his motive?” Lorza asked, “and can we assume that his fellow SWAR operatives are complicit?”

“The very first time that I met Murphy, he complained about aliens and civilians on the station,” Moralez said. “If he doesn’t like cats, then he’s probably none too fond of Bugs either. He’s a career soldier, blue all the way through, but that doesn’t mean he has to agree with what the Admiralty is doing. We know that he and his men are likely violating the Yellow Sea treaty, they don’t strike me as the kind of people who follow orders blindly. What do you guys know about SWAR that I don’t? Give me some more context here.”

“UNNI operatives are spies,” Boyd replied, “our job is collecting information and sometimes carrying out a hit or two. If we get into a gunfight, it’s because we’ve fucked up. SWAR are cleaners, the Admiralty sends those guys in when they want everything on-site dead. They do advanced recon too, but that’s just a prelude to killing things with heavy ordnance. They operate with very little oversight and probably even less accountability. I’d believe that a SWAR operative would take matters into their own hands if they thought that the Admirals were losing their touch.”

“They are more like a Borealan pack than they would care to admit,” Lorza added. “Their squads are tightly-knit fraternities, as are many human military units. They are loyal first to one another.”

“Well, I’m convinced,” Moralez said. “Now we just have to prove it.”

“How can we do that?” Lorza asked. “Without being able to track Sinclair’s emails to their source, we have only conjecture.”

“I think I have an idea,” the Chief replied. “If Murphy likes sting operations so much, then maybe we should give him a taste of his own medicine. He knows that his patsy is in our custody now, and I doubt he’s had time to prime anyone else to become an assassin. He doesn’t have a clue where the Bug ambassador is being housed, I made sure to keep that close to my chest, but he knows that a second council meeting will be taking place soon. We let him think that we’re holding Sinclair solely responsible, draw him out, and catch him in the act. With Vos on our side, we can send the information through him, make it seem official.”

“Use the Bug as bait,” Boyd muttered, nodding his head.

“You believe that he will try again?” Lorza asked.

“He put a lot on the line during the first attempt,” the Chief replied. “If he really believes in what he’s doing, then I’m willing to bet that he’ll come back to finish the job. If we’re lucky, he’ll take a more direct approach and expose himself in the process.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I like the plan,” Boyd added. “But don’t underestimate Murphy. You’re tangling with a SWAR team here, they’re probably some of the most dangerous people alive. Baiting them out is one thing, but actually dealing with them is quite another. If you post a dozen Krell in battle armor to guard the conference room, Murphy will know that something’s fishy.”

“Suggestions?” Moralez asked.

“The Bug needs to be exposed, vulnerable. That puts it at greater risk, but we won’t force Murphy’s hand any other way. It has to be a target too juicy for him to pass up.”

“The question now is how covert their second attempt will be,” Lorza mused. “Will they fire a railgun from a distance again, or will they simply walk up and shoot their target?”

“With Vos in our corner, we have some control over how this goes down,” the Chief replied. “We need to put them in a situation that forces them to do things our way, limit their options. They’re running out of time, they know they won’t get a third chance.”

“Murphy seems to have a real hateboner for you, Chief,” Boyd chuckled. “Maybe we can play to his pride a little.”

“We can do this,” Moralez said, “we can outwit Murphy. We just have to put our heads together, right?”

Lorza nodded, placing a hand on her partner’s shoulder.

“Let’s finish this,” Boyd said.

“It’s finally happening,” Holly said, Harry watching her clean her antennae in the same manner that a woman might comb her hair before leaving the house.

“Bout time,” he replied, BJ rumbling sympathetically. “The Chief says they caught the guy who tried to whack you, so you should be safe now. It was some random engineer, dude lost his crew to a Bug torpedo and went loopy by the sound of things.”

“I am glad that he was taken alive,” Holly added, checking the gossamer wings on her skirt. “Perhaps the cycle of hate can be broken.”

“The Chief is comin’ down to escort us to the hub,” Harry continued, “we’ll probably take the service tunnels again. How are you feelin’?”

She marched over to him, standing on her toes and resting her hands on his shoulders as she planted a kiss on his cheek.

“Confident,” she replied, Blackjack huffing in amusement.

“Not a word from you, you oversized pool float,” Harry grumbled as he gave the reptile a sideways glance. “I’ve made fun of the guys for chasin’ tails in the past, they’ll hold it over my head forever if they find out that I’ve got a thing for a Bug.”

“Secret lovers,” Holly mused, shooting him a smile. “I find the prospect romantic.”

“I’m gonna get my gear on,” Harry added as he made his over to where he had piled his Marine armor. “No more lazin’ around, BJ, we gotta look the part for the Chief. He should be here any minute.”

Not long after he had finished donning his black armor, there was a buzz from the intercom, Harry checking his wrist computer for messages to ensure that it was indeed the Chief. When he unlocked the door, Moralez stepped through, his polymer foot clicking against the varnished wood floor.

Harry saluted, Blackjack performing an approximation of the gesture, Moralez waving his hand dismissively with an electrical whir.

“At ease, at ease.” He appraised the room, then looked Holly up and down, nodding his approval. “I see that our guest is still in one piece. Good work, guys. I knew I was right to trust you two with this assignment.”

“No problem, Chief,” Harry replied. “She’s been no trouble at all.”

“Are you ready to move?” Moralez asked. “The council meeting will be starting in a little under two hours. We’ll be going through the service tunnels and boarding a shuttle that will take us there directly, just like the last time.”

“We’re ready,” Harry confirmed, patting the holster on his hip. Blackjack loosed an affirmative rumble, the hanging skin beneath his jaw vibrating.

“Ambassador,” the Chief continued, addressing Holly directly. “I trust that your stay has been a comfortable one? I apologize again for the incident on the hub, the culprit has been apprehended.”

“Very comfortable,” she replied, giving Harry a quick glance. “No harm has been done, Security Chief, I am sure that you have done your utmost to ensure my safety. It is impossible to account for every eventuality, after all.”

“Indeed,” Moralez replied. “Well, shall we?”

As they began to move to the suite’s service door, there was another buzz at the intercom. Harry turned to give the Chief a questioning look, Moralez glancing over his shoulder. He raised his wrist, tapping at the monitor for a few moments as the others looked on with concern.

“It’s alright,” he said, Harry taking his hand off his holster. “It’s Lieutenant Commander Murphy, but I’m not sure what he’s doing here. Just a moment...”

He returned to the door, opening it to reveal an armored figure. The man was clad in Marine armor that had been extensively modified, his visor adorned with a white skull motif that came off as rather sinister to Harry.

“Lieutenant Commander,” Moralez began. The welcome was not a friendly one, Harry immediately got the impression that the two men did not like each other.

“Security Chief,” the stranger replied, the speakers in his helmet giving his voice an artificial quality. “We’re here to escort the ambassador to the hub.”

“What?” Moralez snapped, “on whose orders?”

“Admiral Vos’,” Murphy replied. “He doesn’t trust you to keep the asset safe, so he told me to relieve you.”

“This is ridiculous,” Moralez grumbled, lowering his head as he tapped frantically at the touch screen on his wrist. “Admiral Vos? Yes, this is Security Chief Moralez. Lieutenant Commander Murphy is here, he’s telling me that you ordered him to escort the ambassador in my place?”

He paused for a moment, one finger pressed against his ear as he listened to the Admiral’s reply, glowering at the LC.

“Admiral,” he began, pausing as he was interrupted. “Admiral, with all due respect, this is my operation. Yes, I know that the case has been solved, but I’m still the ... no, Sir. No. I don’t see how that’s relevant...”

Murphy crossed his arms impatiently, Harry noting that he too was an amputee. They were bulkier than the Chief’s prosthetics, the black polymer blending seamlessly with his battle dress. There was also a rather large Bowie knife holstered on his shoulder.

“Sir, I must protest,” the Chief continued, but it looked like he was losing whatever argument he was having with the Admiral. “Very well,” he finally conceded. He lowered his computer, stepping aside and letting Murphy pass. The man’s legs were prosthetic too, he was a quadruple amputee, his feet replaced with springy skids that almost gave them a digitigrade look. Was he special forces?

Four men followed behind him, piling into the suite, each one adorned with similar attire. Their rigs were loaded with gear and electronics, a couple of them sporting attachments that were bolted to the sides of their helmets, wires trailing into their armor. There wasn’t a man among them who had retained even one of his original limbs, and each set of prosthetics was different from the last. One had layered on ceramic armor, while another had laser-etched tattoos that were only visible when they caught the light. Some had chosen replicas of their original limbs that were filled out, giving them a more natural silhouette, while others had skeletal and functional limbs that made them look like robots.

“Sergeant Hayes,” Moralez began, “it seems that Lieutenant Commander Murphy will be escorting you to the hangar in my stead. He is to have your full cooperation, is that understood?”

“Yes, Sir,” Harry replied as he glanced at the newcomers warily.

“Don’t let the door hit you on your way out,” Murphy muttered as Moralez stepped out onto the torus, turning to glare at his counterpart before the door slid shut.

Murphy tapped at his wrist, Harry watching as he brought up a holographic map of the service tunnels.

“Let’s get going,” he said, waving his team towards the back of the suite. Harry couldn’t see their faces through their visors, but he couldn’t help but feel that their eyes were lingering on Holly. These men had likely spent their entire careers killing Bugs, and now they were tasked with escorting one. Moralez hadn’t seemed too happy about the idea, and so neither was Harry. They gave BJ a wide berth too, the Krell staring back at them with his yellow eyes.

“Sergeant Hayes,” Murphy said, gesturing to Blackjack. “You got that thing under control?”

“He’s good, Sir,” Harry replied.

“Get him moving then, we got places to be.”

Holly shot Harry a worried glance, but all he could do was give her a shrug. The Admiral outranked the Chief, and a Lieutenant Commander outranked a Sergeant. He couldn’t disobey orders, no matter how much his gut was warning him that something was off about this changing of the guard.

The walk through the service tunnels was quiet and tense. Murphy led from the front with one of his men, the three others taking up the rear. Harry stuck close to Holly, glad to have Blackjack watching over them. These special forces types weren’t much for conversation, it made him feel more like they were being marched to a cell, rather than escorted for their own protection. If there was a second attempt on Holly’s life, then Harry pitied whoever would have to face off against these guys.

They arrived at the service door to one of the hangars, Murphy pausing to type in the access code. It opened with a hydraulic hiss, and they stepped through into the bay. It was much like the one that Holly had first arrived in, on the smaller side to accommodate shuttles and cargo. There was a single dropship idling on the deck, and the shutter that would usually close over the shimmering force field was absent. The lockdown on the station must have been lifted, as the shooter was now in custody. Beyond the thin energy barrier, the stars crawled past as the station’s torus rotated, creating the illusion that they were standing still as the Universe spun around them.

“Check the seals on your armor, boys,” Murphy said as he made his way over to an access panel beside the open bay door. “You three, you’re gonna want to move a little closer to the force field.”

“Why’s that?” Harry asked, pausing as they neared the dropship to look back at him. “Aren’t we loading up?”

“I’m afraid not,” Murphy replied. He gave a signal, and his four men raised their rifles. Blackjack loosed an intimidating rumble that shook the deck as Holly took Harry by the arm. She clung to him, her frightened eyes darting between the men as her four hands gripped his sleeve, her antennae waving.

“What the fuck is this?” Harry demanded, his free hand moving towards his holster.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Murphy said, “we wouldn’t want to make a mess.” He pulled something from one of the many pouches on his chest rig, then reached up to open the access panel, revealing a mess of wiring and glowing tubes. He placed the tiny parcel inside, then sealed up the panel. “You see, when we escorted you and your alien friends to the bay, there was another assassination attempt. This one succeeded,” he added, shrugging his shoulders as he turned to face them again. “An unknown, but probably quite handsome saboteur, had placed an explosive charge on the force field’s power converter. When it blew, the field shut off, and we all got sucked out into the big empty. Luckily for me and my boys, we were wearin’ our armor. These puppies are rated for vacuum,” he said as he pounded his chest plate with his fist.

“Fuckin’ tragic,” another of them added.

“You were wearin’ your armor too,” Murphy continued, gesturing to Harry. “You forgot to put your helmet on though, didn’t you?” He tapped at the skull decal on his visor with a prosthetic finger. “Gotta be more careful, mate.”

“Go on, take it off,” one of Murphy’s goons demanded as he brandished his weapon. Harry did as he asked, taking off the helmet and clipping it to his belt.

“You expect me to just stand here and let you kill us?” he demanded.

“Your Krell might have put up a good fight, but he’ll drop just like anyone else if he tries to charge us across open ground. Four guys mag dumping into him should do the trick.”

Murphy was right, even with his superhuman speed and strength, Blackjack couldn’t outrun a tungsten slug. They were a good twenty feet away, he’d be torn to pieces before he reached their firing line. Nor could Harry draw his sidearm in time to change anything, they’d gun him down before he even had time to pop the clasp.

“Harry?” Holly whispered, her pink eyes peering up at him. He reached down and cupped her face in his hand, her tears wetting his palm. What a time to discover that she could cry...

“I was feelin’ a bit down about the collateral damage on this op,” Murphy mused, watching the display of affection. “But now, I think I’ll sleep easy. You signed up to kill Bugs, Marine, what the fuck’s goin’ through your head?”

“You’re a traitor,” Harry shot back.

“Nah, mate. The people who think they can make peace with roaches are the traitors. How many civvies have these cunts killed over the last twenty years? How many of your fellow Marines have they massacred? If you think that uncanny valley lookin’ fucker wouldn’t chew your face off your skull as soon as look at you, you’re outta fuckin’ touch with reality. Those things get into the Coalition, and we’ve lost this war. That’s it for humanity.”

“LC, time’s wasting,” another of the masked operators said.

“Alright, keep your hair on. I’ll prime the detonator.”

There was a sudden flash of bright light, Harry shutting his eyes reflexively, his ears ringing. He reacted instinctively, diving to the deck and pulling Holly with him, rolling on top of her as chaos erupted around them.

“He’s planting some kind of explosive on the wall by the hangar door,” Boyd warned, watching the scene play out through his visor. He had tapped into the external cameras on the dropship so that they could keep an eye on Murphy, choosing the perfect moment to strike. Moralez was beside him inside the cramped troop bay of the vessel, Lorza and half a dozen heavily armed Shock Troopers waiting for the signal to move.

Just as they had anticipated, Murphy had chosen the hangar as the place to stage his attack. Miller had made sure to deny them access codes for any opportune side tunnels or maintenance rooms that might serve the same purpose, directing them along a very specific route. There was no way that they would try anything without putting some distance between themselves and the Krell first, he could do a lot of damage in close quarters.