Honor Bound

Shannon blinked, then reached out to the desktop and hit a control. “It is now, ma’am. What’s wrong?”

“Shannon, as father’s chief of staff, Glen, well…” She hesitated, for the first time in the conversation seeming nervous. “He hears things in that position… rumors. Many of them turn out to be nothing, and this one might too, but…”

“…but it’s something you thought we should check out,” Shannon finished for her. “What’s going on, Valerie?”

“Glen has been trying to mediate some of the disagreements between Daddy’s administration and the Southbloc,” Valerie explained. “The end of forced emigration has handed some of their nations a lot of political problems… and the inflation and unemployment increases haven’t done anything to help the situation. He was consulting with a friend of my father’s, Senator Friere of Brazil, and Friere mentioned hearing rumbles from Brazilian officers high in the Colonial Guard about a possible mutiny.”

Shannon blinked. It wasn’t entirely shocking… there was a lot of dissatisfaction in the Colonial Guard, after all. But if it was gaining enough momentum that the Senator from Brazil had heard of it, it could be serious. “Did he have any details?” she asked.

“Just one… that’s the reason I’m calling you and not my father. He said that the mutiny was designed to coincide with an attempt on the President’s life.”

“What?” Shannon exclaimed. “But why? It’s not as if the Vice President will reverse the policies just because the president is killed. That makes no sense.”

“I don’t know anything more.” Valerie shook her head. “It might all be just ridiculous rumor—I know that’s what Daddy would say if I brought it to him. That’s why I’m bringing it to you.”

“I understand, Senator,” Shannon said. “I’ll look into it. If there’s anything to it, I’ll let you know… and I’ll see it gets dealt with.”

“I knew I could count on you, Shannon,” Valerie said, smiling. “I hope you find that it’s just barracks rumor.”

“Me too.” Shannon whispered as the transmission cut off. She ran her fingers through her hair tiredly. “As if there wasn’t enough going on already…” She hit the intercom control. “Franks.”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Contact Captain Shamir. Tell him I need to meet him in Colonel McKay’s office as soon as he can get a shuttle up here.” She didn’t even register Frank’s reply… her thoughts were wrapped around what Valerie had told her. There had never been an attempt on a president in the history of the Republic… and now she was finding out about one just after learning that Antonov was back. She wasn’t sure she believed that heavily in coincidences.

Something, she reflected again, was wrong about all this. Time to get to work and find out what.

Chapter Four

Jason McKay sat back in his chair and waited for the last of the group to file into the conference room. He was enjoying the Earth-normal gravity while he could. In just hours they would be immersed in the g-tanks, hibernating in the cushioning, aerated fluid while the ship accelerated at a warp—analog of hundreds of gravities for weeks, and when they arrived at their first stop, he’d be back in zero-g until planetfall.

Vinnie and Jock were in the room already, along with the other men and women of their Alpha Team, all looking quite relaxed and deadly in their black combat utility uniforms. Also present, though making a point of sitting apart from the special operations squad, were the platoon leaders and platoon sergeants of the Fleet Marine Reaction Force units on board. Even though Vinnie, Jock and McKay himself were all former Marines, the Fleet Marines had developed a resentment of the new Special Operations units.

They were still waiting for the Fleet personnel—the only one present was the flight commander of the assault shuttles, a tall, slender woman with high cheekbones and a face that hinted at Asian ancestry. She was typing something into a small notepad, her expression all business, ignoring the others around her.

Finally, after another ten minutes of waiting, Captain Minishimi strode into the room with her executive officer in tow.

“Captain on deck!” McKay barked, bringing everyone to their feet.

“As you were,” Minishimi waved a hand, leaning against a table near the center of the room. “We don’t have a lot of time, so I’ll get right to the point. We are heading to Loki to pick up a passenger, then we’re going straight for the inner frontier. There was an observation post there until a few months ago. It was destroyed and looted, the troops manning it either taken or killed and their bodies taken. Evidence found on the scene suggests that the culprits are our old friends, the remnants of the Russian Protectorate.” A chorus of murmurs went through the assembled officers and NCOs, some of them glancing at McKay.

“At ease,” Minishimi’s XO barked and the talking ceased.

“We have been tasked to aid Colonel McKay in his investigation of this incident. I will turn the briefing over to him.”

McKay stood, nodding to the Captain, then touched a control on the wall and a star map was projected near the ceiling. “We’re heading here,” he said. “The system doesn’t have an official name, but the Scouts have been calling the habitable there ‘Peboan.’ It means…”

“Winter spirit,” the ground support shuttle flight leader spoke up, her contralto voice clear and piercing. “From the Chippewa myth.”

“Yes,” McKay nodded, raising an eyebrow. “The planet’s a bit on the cold side most of its year. Our surveys have indicated that Peboan is rich in petroleum, fissionables and other resources, as are a couple other habitable worlds in close proximity. We are working on the theory that Antonov doesn’t have enough ships to do extensive space-based mining, so he will choose to get his resources onplanet where possible.

“The only reason for Antonov to attack the outpost is that they had either already spotted his activities or he thought they were about to and wanted to buy some time. So, we probably won’t find him anywhere in the immediate area, but I am hoping we can find a lead as to where he’s going and what he’s up to. We are prepared in case we do run into his forces, however, as you can see by looking around you.” He surveyed their faces, seeing total attention in every one. “I do have to tell you, there is the possibility that we could be out here more than a year, depending on how far the search takes us. I’m sorry you weren’t allowed to send out messages to your loved ones indicating this, but I have direct orders from the president not to let news of this get out until we get confirmation as to whether this is Antonov’s work and what his next move might be.” He paused. “Any questions?”

“What evidence do we have that this is Antonov or his people?” The question came from one of the Marine platoon leaders, a sharp-edged young man with cafe aux lait skin and dark hair that was little more than stubble on his head. The name Dodd was stenciled on his shirt.

“We found brass rifle casings in the wreckage of the destroyed base, Lieutenant Dodd,” McKay answered. He hit a control and a video of the Marines holding up the brass casings played for them.

“That’s all we got?” asked his platoon sergeant, her puffy, schoolteacher’s face screwed up in a frown. “Ain’t that a little thin, sir?”

“If you can tell me another solution more likely, Gunny Dzvonik,” McKay shrugged, “I’m all ears. We have to postulate an enemy that has star travel independent of the established cargo and passenger runs, that has a motive to attack one of our remote observation posts and loot everything not nailed down and that uses gunpowder weapons firing from brass-cased cartridges marked with Cyrillic writing.”

“Yeah, guess you got a point, sir,” she admitted.

“I have a question,” the shuttle commander raised a finger.

“Yes, Commander…?”

“Villanueva, sir,” she told him. “As I understand it, the Protectorates use some sort of artificial wormhole gateways to travel FTL… so why are you concerned about the planets in the systems around Peboan? Couldn’t they be just as easily jumping somewhere dozens of light years away?”

“They could,” McKay admitted. “But we know they’ve pirated some of our Eysselink drive ships… it’s possible