“Major, there are some people here from Enigma Osiris here to see you.”
Looking up from another bit of useless communication from the prefecture, Gertrude scowled at her aide. “What the hell do the scumbags from EO want?”
Her aide, one Ian Hanover, a short stocky man in his middle year, sporting a military crisp crew cut, and a uniform with creases so sharp he probably shaved with them, shrugged. “They wouldn’t tell me Ma’am, just said that it was a business of a personal nature.” He took in the Major’s foul temperament and asked, “Should I inform them you are busy and request they return later?”
Sighing, she shook her head. If Enigma Osiris was here on matters of a personal nature, it meant it had to do with her sister. She hadn’t spoken to Giselle since she’d been dishonorably discharged five years ago. She’d been caught up in some sort of security leak, her involvement not enough to send her to the stockade, but enough to ruin her career. After that, she signed on with EO.
They had fought over that, the worst argument they’d ever had, and hadn’t spoken since.
“You might as well show them in.” She told Ian, “get them out of my life ASAP.”
Ian nodded sharply, and moments later, showed a dark suited pair of corporate drones in. The pair might as well have been clones, for all they were male and female; Same height, same build, same silver streaked brown hair styled in the latest corporate business style. With some of E.O.s research ethics, she thought to herself, I wouldn’t be surprised if they actually are clones.
The woman stepped forward, holding out her hand, “Major Kintzel, I’m Tina Furgeson from Enigma Osiris’ Security Operations division.”
Gertrude just stared at the woman with unblinking eyes, like she would have stared at one of her subordinates who had been dragged back to base after a dustup in some drinking hole. She was not in the mood to play polite with soulless corpos.
The woman pulled her hand back and coughed quietly, “And this is Samuel Johnson. We’re here about your sister Giselle. It’s with great regret that we need to inform you that during a recent operation, your sister’s fighter was lost in combat. We have been unable to find any sign of her or her remains, and have been forced to declare her missing in action. We at Enigma Osiris want to express our condolences, and assure you that we will continue efforts to determine the whereabouts of your sister and bring her home.”
Blinking, Gertrude continued to say nothing. Her sister was M.I.A., possibly lost floating in space somewhere, or stranded on some shithole planet, abandoned by the corrupt corporation she chose to work for, to preserve some fiction about their motives there. She’d always believed there’d be a time at some point when her sister would come to her senses and they could reconcile, but now - the prospects of that were grim.
But she wasn’t about to let these stuffed suits see weakness. “I see.” she finally said, “Unless there is more information regarding the operation she was on, or forms I need to sign regarding dispersal of her effects, you will excuse me. I have a very full schedule for the rest of the day.”
“Major, I’m -”
“Are there any further details to share, or paperwork to sign?”
“No Ma’am.” the woman who’d identified herself as Tina Furgeson replied.
“Then Corporal Hanover will show you out. Thank you for your time in informing me about my sister. Good day.”
After Ian hustled them out of her office, she turned her chair and stared at a blank bit of wall and just tried not to think. It was easier that way, Giselle was the only family she had left, and it had been hard being estranged from your twin. Now there might not be any chance of setting things right. Thinking about it was just too hard.
She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, staring blankly at the wall, when the sound of her comm unit chiming broke into her consciousness.
Blinking, she turned to look at the holo-screen, prepared to smash the keyboard to ignore the communication, and put herself in do not disturb mode, but the sender information brought her up short. Ambassador Stasti Ai’fix of the Giobhioni Republic. That was the alien woman who had hacked into their networks only days earlier, to threaten outright war due to, ironically enough, malfeasance on the part of Enigma Osiris. She had provided proof that accusations that put targets on the back of two siblings of the Aacen family, and one benastian woman, were falsified for some reason. Another reason for her current unfavorable opinion of the corporation.
Why was the Ambassador contacting her now?
Unable to resist the curiosity, she tapped the receive key, and opened what turned out to be a heavily encrypted text only mail. “Major Kintzel, as of eight of your hours ago, your sister Giselle is in the company of Commander Jophixa on the Elegance of Light. She was pulled from the wreck of her fighter craft by Mr Thomas Aacen and is undergoing medical treatment in the Elegance of Light’s infirmary.
“Mr Aacen assumed you might be worried for your sister’s safety, and insisted we pass word on. When your sister is able, Commander Jophixa has said she will arrange to have her be in contact with you directly. We’ll also be sending along some information regarding the circumstances regarding her injuries, and hope you might help with disseminating the information. This is for the safety of everyone in the quadrant, perhaps even the galaxy.
“Until then, be wary of Enigma Osiris, Especially of the CRO, Benson Fisch. Do not let them drag you into any of their operations. I’ll be in touch. Ambassador Statsi Ai’fix - Giobhioni Republic”
Grief washed drained out of her in a torrent, leaving her feeling boneless and exhausted. Giselle was alive, and there was still a chance to set things right. Any doubts she’d had about letting the Aacen woman and the Benastian slip away vanished. Sometimes, doing the right thing pays off.
“Mr. Fisch, sir?”
The tone in Charles’ voice did not speak to good news. Benson gently placed the delicate glass pen into its carved wooden case, and stopped the ink bottle. He’d had precious little time for art in the past few weeks, and had decided to take the time while Acquisition Group Charlie was still hunting down the alien vessel to work on a long neglected project.
That time was about to be cut short, he guessed. “What is it Charles?”
“The Acquisition Group reported that they had located the vessel and were preparing to confront it, sir.” Charles explained. “I’ve sent the coordinates to your holoterminal, sir. But sir…”
“Please just spit it out Charles. Time is money.”
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
“Operational Feeds sent this back, Sir.” And he tapped the screen on his tablet, causing the large holoscreen along one wall to activate and start displaying the sequence of events.
Benson watched impassively as the enormous centipede like thing tore through the flotilla of ships, ripping it to shreds in scant minutes. There was no contest whatsoever. Twelve of their best ships, and a myriad of fighters, wiped out by a single ship-creature whose only resemblance to the the ship Barstol had salvaged was energy signatures from its power core. He cringed inside when he heard the comms equipment pick up the screams of the creature, then seethed when he caught the readings that showed multiple ships retreating from the engagement.
“Has there been any word from those ships that retreated?”
“No, sir.” Charles reported. “In fact, the location transponders they are outfitted with seem to have been disabled. The people in Resources believe they have Breached Contract. Standard procedures have been initiated, but no comms have resulted, and there has been no confirmation of deactivation codes being received, Sir.”
Benson pinched the bridge of his nose. “So, we’ve lost the entirety of AGC, to either destruction or desertion, is that what you are telling me Charles?”
“Not…entirely Sir.”
He turned to give Charles a hard look, causing him to tap again at his tablet, and the vista on the holoscreen shifted to the cockpit view from one of their heavy fighters. They watched as the fighter was struck by debris from the capital ship and sent spinning, then again as the pilot regained consciousness in their ruined fighter and recorded their efforts to make sufficient repairs to survive and call for assistance. They heard her broadcast her distress call, then buckle herself back into the cockpit and go into deep meditation to conserve her oxygen.
Then, sometime later - after Charles sped up the playback - they watched as the strange, elegantly shaped vessel appeared in view, and a single figure approached the fighter in an EVA suit.
“Do we have any identity on that ship?” Benson snapped.
“Yes sir.” and an inset image appeared on the holo. Showing the same ship parked at a Starport labelled as Yintari Three. “The transponder identifies it as the Elegance of Light, hailing from the Giobhioni Republic, sir. It was last seen leaving Yintari Three with Thomas Aacen on board.”
Sure enough, at just that moment, the footage from the fighter craft managed to catch an angle on the pilot’s rescuer that revealed its face through the helmet’s visor.
It was Thomas Aacen.
An audible pop sounded in the room, emanating from his jaw which was clenched so tightly it was likely causing microfractures in his teeth. “So, destruction, desertion…and Aacen has one of our pilots?”
“Yes sir.”
“Get hunter teams after both those deserters, and that Giobhioni ship.” he ordered, trying to keep his voice even. Raising one’s voice was a sign of weakness. “See what you can do to get Commonwealth Security involved, spin it that they have kidnapped one of our people or something.”
Charles visibly winced, “After the evidence came out that we’d falsified the charges against Jessica Aacen, sir, it might be difficult to spin that one.”
“Try it anyway.”
“Yes sir.” He turned to leave, paused. “Sir, there’s one more thing.”
“There’s more?” Benson asked, incredulously.
“Yes sir. I got word that there was a Board Meeting held this morning sir.”
He stood up suddenly, incensed, “Why wasn’t I informed? It’s not like you to be this incompetent Charles!”
Wincing back, Charles cowered towards the door. Fisch had never shown any inclination towards being violent towards him, but there had been many rumors regarding the disappearances of E.O. employees that failed in expectations. “Sir, I only found out myself just before bringing the report to you sir. They deliberately didn’t send us notification of the meeting!”
Great, Benson thought to himself, they are up to something, excluding me like that. I need to find out the purpose of that meeting.
“Very well, Charles.” He said, once more in his level tone. “You cannot be faulted for what you were not informed of. Please see if you can dig up why we were not informed of said meeting. In the meantime, I need to determine next steps on the situation at hand. You are dismissed.”
“Yes sir, Mr. Fisch.” and with that he slipped out of the office without another sound.
She awoke with a throat tearing scream, a vision of the multitude of gleaming magma black eyes growing ever more enormous as the creature sailed through the vacuum of space towards her. The phantom vibrations of her coilgun still echoing up her arm as her finger still spasmed to pull the trigger.
It was some time, she had no idea how long, that she became aware of a gentle male voice speaking to her from startlingly nearby. “Hey, it’s okay Giselle, it’s okay, you’re safe now.” it said, in that curiously musical lilt she recognized as Benastian, if only from their presence in the entertainment industry. “You’ve been through a lot. Just relax. The doc will be along shortly to check on you.”
Once the nightmare cleared from her mind, she became aware of her surroundings. She was laying on something akin to a hospital bed, enclosed in a space that couldn’t be much larger than about 2.5 square meters in volume - just enough for her to sit up, or to stretch out to sleep. The walls of the enclosure held several two dimensional displays showing medical read-outs, as well as a holo-projector mounted from the ceiling. Everything was sterile white, except her flight suit, which she was still wearing.
The holo-projector activated, displaying a benastian male’s face, smiling kindly. “Hi there,” he said, “good to see you awake finally. We weren’t sure how long you’d been out there before we picked you up. My name’s Tindron, and I was asked to keep watch on you while the Doc is dealing with another patient. He’s the one who pulled you out of your fighter by the way.
“Sorry about the accommodations, I know it likely feels kinda cramped in there. It hopefully won’t be terribly much longer before we can get you out, let you get cleaned up and stretch your legs.” another quirky, kind smile, “ah, here comes the Doc. She’s awake, Tzaki.”
The holo image changed to that of a green skinned woman with gleaming silver hair and bright blue eyes, but the most notable features were the enormous pointed ears, and mouth full of sharp, shark-like teeth she made visible when she smiled. Despite those intimidating teeth, however, her face held the same kind concern as Tindron’s. “Ms. Kitzel, it’s good to see you awake. I’m Tzaki Trasta.” She spoke in the kind of voice she would have expected from the matronly old doctor she’d had as a kid; comforting and assuring. She could definitely tell that the voice was being filtered through a translation matrix though. “Tzaki is our word for what you’d call a doctor, though there seems to be enough difference that the translator doesn’t automatically substitute it.”
“H-hello, Tzaki.” Giselle spoke hesitantly, her throat felt a bit dry. “Can I get some water?”
“Certainly! There’s a dispenser to your right, along with a spill-proof cup - Just for the sake of convenience.” As Giselle partook of some of said water, the tzaki went on, “Now I’m sure you are wondering why you are cooped up in there right now, instead of in a usual infirmary of some kind.”
“The th-” she coughed, took another sip, then tried again, “The thought crossed my mind. Only time I’ve found myself in a setup like this before has been from nitrogen narcosis after an underwater training session, or the one time I was exposed to an infectious agent at…” She stopped, remembering the circumstances around that, and how it had been an Enigma Osiris research station, working on illegal biological agents.
“Ah, I see you might realize what’s going on.” the alien doctor’s holo-projection nodded, “The creature you encountered during your rescue, and likely as part of what had you stranded out there in the middle of nowhere, is something called a Ktonshi. They are an xenophobic, extremely aggressive species, and they spread a rather nasty contagion. It has been known to be able to infect even through the protection of some EVA rated materials such as your flight suit. The contagion is also, much like themselves, immune to the vacuum of space.
“So we have you in this pod until we are certain you haven’t been infected.”
A million thoughts raced through Giselle's mind at that moment. “She’d been exposed to some sort of pathogen. She’d been infected, that thing had infected her with something, and it was going to kill her. She felt her heart begin to race, and her breath begin to quicken. She was dimly aware of the medical readouts along the pod’s walls beginning to beep warnings, and that the alien doctor was saying something to her, but was too drowned in the flood of thoughts.
But then her training kicked in. She didn’t get where she was by panicking, by losing control of herself due to circumstances she had no control over. No. A warrior accepted the circumstances, a warrior worked with them, made them her own. She forced her breathing to slow, and ordered her heart rate to moderate. She willed her mind to focus on the now, and not on the many what might be-s. She would not meet her end as a gibbering, cowering mess of nerves. She would meet it with her head held high, as a warrior should.
“I apologize doctor,” she said calmly, letting out a long breath, and taking another drink of water, “As you said, it’s been a bit of a couple days. How long until you know whether this - contagion, as you called it - has infected me or not?”
“Another twelve of your hours should do it.” The doctor explained, “We’re running a lot of deep scans for any biological changes, and so far we’ve seen no sign of any of the markers pointing to infection. But we’re erring on the side of caution. I hope you understand.”
“Yeah, don’t want to let a contagion lose onto your ship.” Giselle slumped against the wall of the pod, “Has anyone been notified that I’m still alive? News of the clusterfuck back there has to have reached head office by now. MIA reports might have gone out. I have…family.”
“Major Gertrude Kintzel of Yintari System Security, correct?”
“What?! How did you know?”
The alien doctor chuckled softly, “Interestingly enough, we had some business with your sister not that long ago. An honorable woman, your sister, so much so that when we picked up your distress signal, and were able to link you to her through the StellarNet, we made a point to divert and rescue you. We’ve sent a discrete message to her, informing her you’re still in the land of the living. And we can set up a call so you can talk to her yourself if you wish.”
Maybe it’s time to fix things. She thought, Especially if I might have whatever this contagion is she’s mentioned. Her sister had the right to know that the rift between them wasn’t everything it seemed, and the last thing she wanted was to go to her grave with Gertie regretting the way they’d left things. “I’d like that very much Tzaki Tratsa. My sister and I actually have a lot to talk about…”
Thank you for Reading this chapter of The Salvager’s Plague.
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