No Remorse, page 14
“For sure, but the degree of polarization I saw is stunning. People were unhappy with the People’s Alliance for years, but openly supporting the Reform League could, at one time, turn you into a social outcast. So they stifled their thoughts and pretended to be as virtuous as their neighbors. Then, a preference cascade started with regional elections six years ago, where many previously unknown Reform League candidates won seats in the various town, city, and provincial councils. Suddenly, supporting a party other than the sainted, visionary, and benevolent Alliance wasn’t quite as evil as propaganda made it out to be.”
“You don’t seem to be a fan of this People’s Alliance,” Talyn remarked.
“They’ve turned parts of the planet into no-go zones where the worst exports from the Core Worlds live out lives of indolence punctuated by mindless violence. But they reliably vote Alliance in such large numbers you just know something isn’t right. You don’t hear about this, and the people voting for those insane policies don’t suffer the consequences — yet. More importantly for us stalwart Naval Intelligence snoops, I’ve picked up enough signs to make me conclude the People’s Alliance party fell under the sway of our Coalition friends years ago.”
“And with forecasts showing the Reform League will stay in power for another full term, I can see there’s trouble brewing,” Decker said. “If Scandia, considered one of the most stable systems in the Rim Sector, falls into political disorder, it’ll be a signal to the others that maybe a little more Commonwealth weight behind their planetary administrations might be a good thing. And since the Coalition is backing the People’s Alliance, we can be sure that whatever will happen won’t be good.”
Montero tapped the side of his nose with an extended index finger.
“Exactly. That was by way of a thumbnail sketch, so you know what’s happening beneath the deceptively calm surface. A lot of folks woke up a few years ago and noticed they were being fleeced by their government for purely political ends and fed loads of propaganda in return. They won’t stand for a return to that situation. But they’re not, with a few exceptions, part of the elite, the movers and shakers who occupy the upper strata of Scandian society. And the latter will do what they can to make sure the Reform League is ousted by means fair or foul, and, if they can manage it, destroyed.
“Now, to answer your question what this mess has to do with your daughter. Ingrid Lagman is a long-standing confidante of the woman behind the Reform League success, Alisa Berneiser. She’s their number two who, for various reasons, does not sit in the parliament, preferring to work behind the scenes while the party’s number one, Dasco Dahlstein, occupies the prime minister’s residence.”
Decker snorted in disbelief. “Somehow, I remember Ingrid as an avid People’s Alliance supporter. She was always raving about how Scandia would show the other star systems what it means to give everyone a chance at living on a pristine, unspoiled world. She was a true believer that one.”
“And yet she underwent a conversion since then,” Montero replied. “So if someone abducted your daughter and her mother has gone incommunicado, then I’d say there’s a better than even chance it’s related to the coming political battle for Scandia’s soul and future.”
“Why involve me — us?”
Talyn shrugged. “Opportunity? Perhaps Ingrid reached out to you because she understood the stakes and thought a Fleet officer, someone who’s not even remotely connected to the Scandian governmental apparatus, might be able to help.”
“Which isn’t an outlandish idea,” Montero said. “The societal fractures, perforce, run through the police, the security agency, and the National Guard. And I daresay, we might find they touch the Scandia Regiment too, even though it’s a Commonwealth Army unit and should, by law, be insulated from planetary politics. What I don’t understand is why we — Naval Intelligence — know nothing about this.”
“That’s easy to explain. It was probably Black Sword’s doing. Considering how deeply they infiltrated us, it’s a given they recruited members in the Political Analysis Section, which deals with this sort of thing. People yet to be found and purged. They’d be in a perfect position to suppress the truth so we don’t meddle.”
Decker’s hand reached for the pantry and extracted a trio of beer bulbs. He held them up and glanced at both of his colleagues in turn. When they nodded, he slid two bulbs across the table and uncapped the third. He took a mouthful and swallowed. “What does this mean?”
“That’s why I’m glad you two are here. I’m a hunter-gatherer of information and doer of specialized deeds. As I said, the events unfolding on Scandia, big and small, seem more in line with your talents, not least if the rumors are true. Apparently, a good chunk of the Scandian National Guard would support the People’s Alliance’s call to oust the current government on trumped-up grounds. After all, its senior officers came up the ranks during Alliance rule and would support its policies as a matter of course, in the pursuit of a successful career.”
“A constitutional coup d’état?” Talyn sounded dubious. “Here? Where does the governor general stand? She has the final say for dissolving a government, no?”
Montero’s laughter was as cold as interstellar space. “Viveca Nygaard is a creature of the previous administration and chummy with the SecGen, whom she represents with commendable enthusiasm, more so than most governors general in the Rim Sector. Where do you think she’ll stand if they do it with sufficiently plausible deniability?”
“Did you gather this intelligence during your walkabout?” Decker asked.
“Not all of it. I picked up a fair bit in the year I’ve been operating out of this system, without necessarily smelling anything more than normal planetary politics. When your cover is that of a suspected smuggler, you tend to hang out with shady figures who know what’s really happening behind the polite facade of Scandian society. A lot of the customs and excise scofflaws around here, believe it or not, consider themselves patriots, and therefore Reform League supporters. They give me an earful every time I mention politics.”
“Patriotic crooks. Will wonders never cease?”
“The People’s Alliance insiders are much worse crooks, trust me. But back to your last question. I found out about Ingrid Lagman’s connections recently. It appears to be a closely held thing.”
“But not closely enough, if an Alliance bastard took my daughter to put the screws on the government through Ingrid. Though why involve me?”
“We don’t know it’s the case,” Talyn interjected. “Let’s stick to the evidence. Go on, Garrett.”
“The rumors of senior police, security, and National Guard officers supporting the Alliance’s return to power are also new developments. I fear things are moving at an ever faster pace and that the Alliance might not wait for next year’s elections. Word on the street is the government’s ready to call a parliamentary vote to enact laws that would significantly weaken any political party’s ability to stay in power for generations. As you might guess, it will be popular with a majority of voters, but not the Alliance. What’s beyond dispute is that the situation has noticeably deteriorated in the year I’ve been working out of this system.”
“Any idea why the Sécurité Spéciale is after you and Haukka?” Decker asked. “Is it related to what’s happening planetside?”
“I didn’t know they were after me and the ship. What’s up?” When Talyn finished telling Montero about the late Waller Leppell and his equally deceased partner Huy Bivins, he took on a thoughtful expression. “Perhaps that explains what happened in Hamar. I had a little misadventure that resulted in delaying my return to Breidablik until today. Unidentified parties were asking too many questions for comfort about one Captain Mattias Kenly. They’ve stopped doing so, but the police might wonder who killed them.”
“How did you leave Breidablik with no one having a clue?” Decker asked. “You know you’re listed as a missing person, right?”
Montero winked at him. “Friends in low places. There are channels the harbormaster and police don’t control. Access to them is one of the many benefits of my cover as a suspected smuggler. Well, that and my ability to swap identities at will. But enough about my fabulous secret agent skills. What will we do?”
“About?” Talyn asked. “The main reason Zack and I came was to secure Haukka and find you. Done and done.”
“I meant about stopping the Coalition from throwing Scandia into political chaos so they can put their stooges back in power. And finding Zack’s daughter, naturally, since her disappearance and the coming crisis are probably related because of her mother.”
“First, we prepare a report back to the commodore.” Talyn’s tone was that of a commanding officer issuing orders. “To let him know you’re alive and well, and that the pride of the Special Operations Division’s very own private Navy is still in safe hands. Said report will be accompanied by an assessment of the current situation on Scandia, which you will draft up the moment we’re done here. Once everything is ready, we will lift off to move away from prying eyes and ears, then hook into this system’s naval subspace relay directly and transmit the lot to Caledonia. We will wait for fresh orders while gathering what additional intelligence we can. Any questions?” She eyed Montero and Decker in turn.
“One addendum to the message packet for the commodore,” Decker said. “We need a few direct action troops from the Special Forces Regiment, stat. I would prefer a full squadron. If he can send them aboard a Q-ship along with their own gunboats, so much the better, in case we find the best course of action is dropping in on Coalition garbage from above.
“If not, then send the squadron aboard the fastest transport available. We’ll need serious backup if we’re to be useful. I can feel it in my bones. And even bare-assed, a squadron without a Q-ship as an operating base is light years ahead of no backup, period. If they need a cover story, it’s the same as I proposed before, cold weather training with the local unit.”
“Why not ask for Fleet Pathfinders? I daresay they can be here a lot faster,” Talyn replied.
“Because Fleet Pathfinders like my old outfit are built to punch a very precise and deadly hole into anyone who falls afoul of the Commonwealth, as you might recall from our first operation together. The boys and girls from the 1st Special Forces Regiment, on the other hand, have the training to deal with the sort of situation that seems to be brewing in this system. And they’re trained to work with regular units like the Scandia Regiment if needed. Especially if Garrett is right and a few of them are paying local politics too much attention. There’s nothing like a troop of special operators to give rifle companies added backbone. If I thought the commodore might listen, I’d ask for a full battalion instead of just one squadron, but I doubt that would fly.”
“Very well. We’ll add that to the message packet.” Talyn climbed to her feet. “Zack and I need to finish surveying the ship, and you have an analysis to write for the boss, Garrett.”
“What about the fake hull patch?” Decker asked. “The poor engineering droid is sitting in the middle of the cargo hold with it, waiting patiently.”
Talyn nodded and turned to Montero. “Is there anything inside your improvised safe that needs immediate attention?”
He shook his head. “No. And if we’re about to run an intelligence operation on Scandia, it’s just as well you brought it in. That’s where I keep money and other untraceable financial instruments.”
— SIXTEEN —
“In what universe is that a good idea?” Talyn demanded after Decker explained his plan during breakfast one morning. Almost a week had passed since Haukka lifted off and settled into a high orbit around Scandia where they could keep a discreet but direct link with the naval subspace relay.
The message packet with Montero’s assessment and the request for reinforcements from the 1st Special Forces Regiment had reached Caledonia, care of Commodore Ulrich’s office, days earlier and they were waiting for a reply long in coming.
“In the universe where we act according to our talents. You and Garrett are the professionals, trained to trawl through government garbage heaps for state secrets. I’m a grunt who works for snoops. Why don’t you pros develop Garrett’s threat assessment while I put contingency plans into place? Plans we’ll need if the opposition pulls a fast one and turns Scandia, the Rim Sector’s paragon of peace and progressivism, into the next planetary civil war.
“There are plenty of folks who won’t stand for a constitutional coup. And therefore, they will pull their great-granddaddies’ guns from the closet in the basement. Remember what happened to the Shrehari when they tried to take Scandia? Because the idiots in the People’s Alliance and their Coalition backers sure as hell don’t if they expect those who voted for the Reform League to accept an illegal change of government. They’re the ones who remember the war and know how to use the weapons their forebears turned on the boneheads. I’ve seen it before. You spend years thinking the worst will never happen until suddenly, the shooting starts.”
The three operatives had spent most of their time in discussion about the Scandia situation when they weren’t analyzing every bit of information they could scrape off the star system’s info net. While Talyn was inclined to take a more nuanced view, the Marine’s fears conjured a scenario that dwarfed the worst colonial war either she or Montero could imagine.
“I still don’t think you going around as Major Zachary Thomas Decker, a liaison officer from the Joint Special Operations Command, is worth the risk. Especially if Garrett and I aren’t around to watch your back.”
“And if I show up on the Scandia Regiment’s doorstep as Dmitri Rauck or anyone other than myself, I’ll never so much as make it through the main gate. Since it’s the only Commonwealth Armed Services ground unit in the system, I see no options unless we want to wait until everything goes sideways. Or just let events happen and then hope the Senate will see its way to vote on authorizing intervention by the Fleet — after a lot of blood is spilled.” He gave his partner a mulish stare she knew only too well. “Besides, more than a few people in the unit will remember me from the last time the 902nd dropped in on them for cold climate training. That’ll help us.”
“Not to mention regimental headquarters are in Kollsvik, where your daughter lives, or at least lived before she vanished, giving you ample opportunity to glance over the Police Authority’s shoulder and offer impertinent advice. Did you think about the possibility some of the regiment’s senior officers might be Black Sword?”
“So what? As we’ve found out, their cell structure is a tough nut to crack because they’re heavily compartmentalized and only pass on essential information. Chances are the local Black Sword bastards, if there are any, didn’t hear about the target on my back yet. And even if they did, I doubt they’d chance discovery by acting after the Grand Admiral ordered that no quarter be given to traitors.”
“Your points are valid.” Talyn exhaled noisily. “Considering you’ve survived things that would kill most men, and have a stubborn streak to match, I suppose my choices are limited.”
“Limited? No. Nonexistent is the word you’re looking for. This is how it has to be. I’ll travel to Kollsvik from Hamar as Dmitri Rauck. But when I’m there, the man of a thousand faces needs to wear his own. Shame I can’t show up in full Marine rig, but liaison officers from JSOC usually travel in civilian anyhow. My credentials will serve as a uniform.”
“And what will you show them to prove you’re on orders?” Garrett asked. “I can’t see the regiment’s CO entertaining a random major who claims to work for JSOC but appears to be suffering from a case of acute conspiracy theory disease.”
Decker jerked a thumb at his partner. “Hera’s an expert forger. That’s why she was the commodore’s first choice as chief of staff after Manfred Yang talked himself into a fatal traffic accident. Or we might receive real orders from the boss. If I’ve figured this approach out on my own, I’m sure he has as well.”
“Or he could send orders forbidding you to do it,” Talyn pointed out. “I’ll wait until we hear back before spending time on documents to support an idea I don’t like.”
“Be that way. But I’ll write out what I want those forged orders to say anyway.”
“Is he always like this?”
She sighed and shook her head. “No. Sometimes he’s worse. Zack will never be a proper intelligence officer.”
“That’s why Commodore Ulrich keeps me around. I think of solutions that would never occur to you guys.”
“And as I’ve learned, most of them involve loud detonations of some sort.”
“Of course. Every problem can be solved by the judicious use of high explosives or an overloaded fuel cell.” Decker grinned at Montero, who smiled back, shaking his head.
“Your reputation definitely doesn’t lie.”
**
The AI’s eerily Talyn-like voice pulled Decker from a pleasant dream involving innumerable, faceless Coalition grandees kneeling by an endless row of juluk pits squirming with awful insectoid creatures ready to inflict indescribable pain.
“An encrypted subspace message from headquarters has arrived, bearing Commodore Ulrich’s signature.”
“About bloody time. Is everyone on holidays back home or did they forget how subspace radio works?” He nudged his half-awake partner, who was stretched out beside him on the master cabin’s broad bunk. “Rise and shine, sweetheart. HQ remembered we exist.”
“So I heard. And we will discuss shutting off the AI’s voice subroutine once more.”
“You may be the mission’s senior officer, but it’s still Garrett’s ship.” Decker rolled off the bunk and onto his feet.
“It’s been my ship since we climbed aboard after reaching Breidablik. Check the log if you don’t believe me. Those codes I fed it make the change of command official.” Talyn climbed out of bed at a more sedate speed and stretched. “I’ve merely been exercising my privilege as mission commander and allowed him to be the acting captain.”
