One Roll of The Dice - Part Seven

[Witchking]

Part Seven

Silas Kavorian, leaned against the parapet and looked out across the city. Sonra had set about a tazura ago and the Winterblossom Mountains stood majestically purple against the darkening sky. Down below the evening rush was ending and now it was mostly leisure traffic at the lower altitudes. Vibrant though the city was, he always felt more comfortable up here on the 500th level of the A.N.I building, he was closer to space, that was it, away from the inane bustle of civilian life and the constant bombardment of advertising which screamed for attention from every building, window and monitor. As Director of the Argon Naval Intelligence Division, he was accorded the privilege of a penthouse office and balcony, deservedly so he felt, considering the workload the job required.

At this height, traffic was restricted to military and government use nevertheless a steady stream of sub-orbital transports were heading towards Nathan’s Landing spaceport, where shuttles waited to transfer the cargo up to its destination, an unfortunate inevitability when an operation of this magnitude was approaching a state of readiness. As the convoy passed, he thought back with satisfaction and a degree of wonder at the level of planning and logistical preparation that had been necessary to get to this point.

An extensive campaign of misinformation, designed to keep the ever present news hounds, both domestic and foreign oblivious to the truth, had started over 18 stazura’s ago. Stories about military budget cut-backs, leaks regarding dissatisfaction among the high command, Government announcements that an era of peace had arrived. All carefully planted to protect the secret and delay the premature publication of the headline Kavorian dreaded most “ * * * WAR * * * ”.

If they failed, the media and public opinion would tear them to pieces, if it succeeded no one would care. From the earliest encounters with the Khaak, it was clear to the military that if they were allowed to retain the advantage they would quickly become un-stoppable. Their ships were more manoeuvrable, faster and their weapons more powerful and had greater range. They were independent of Gate technology, having the capability of jumping into any part of a sector.

Something had to be done and yet the Argon Government feared that a war weary population would not stand for another conflict. And so the planning began, in outlying sectors front line vessels were quietly withdrawn, replaced by reserves. Secret bases, far from established trade routes were set up. Material and ships were secretly stockpiled, a veil of secrecy unparalleled in history protected the operation.

Information was controlled on a strictly need to know basis and as Kavorian acknowledged stoically, many that needed to know, had made the ultimate sacrifice as a result. The risks were too great to allow even the slightest chance of a leak. There was no doubt in Kavorian’s mind that in this case the end definitely justified the means. This was to be a war for the very survival of the Argon Race and while the other races conspired and manoeuvred against each other, blinded by hate, greed or indifference to the real danger, the Argon Navy would defend they’re existence too.

As he mentally reviewed the order of battle, even his logistical mind was awed by it’s magnitude. 9 M1 Class Carriers, in 3 battle groups, 60 Titan Class destroyers, 120 Centaur Class Corvettes and over 1200 fighters. The main objective was straightforward, to destroy or at the very least neutralise the Khaak as an effective fighting force for the foreseeable future. The plan, an all out attack on the Khaak sectors. Three Battle groups would jump into 3 different systems, dividing the enemies attention and causing confusion by arriving at different times. As with all military operations, surprise and timing were crucial but with this plan there was one other facet that only a select few knew about. Like any gambler, Kavorian was not comfortable unless he had an ace up his sleeve and in this case his was Operation Embrace, a computer virus which could be transmitted to any Khaak ship, where it would propagate itself throughout the ships systems and re-transmit copies of itself to other vessels. It was programmed to shut-down the life support system killing the occupants and as well as granting remote access to navigation and weapons systems.

Developed by a group of scientists at a remote laboratory on an asteroid in The Wastelands. The virus had already undergone extensive testing, in fact Kavorian was at this moment awaiting the results of the final dress rehearsal before the virus was declared operational. This weapon, would tip the balance firmly in their favour and ensure a glorious victory. A gentle beeping from the comm panel on his desk brought his attention back to the present. He walked into his office and pressed a button,

“Yes Tamara, what is it ?”
“Sorry to disturb you, Admiral but you have a priority message on the secure channel”
“Thank you, Tamara I will deal with it. I’m just about finished here, you can head home now”
“Very good sir, good night”
“Good night, Tamara, have a pleasant evening”

Kavorian, opened a drawer and took out a headset, it was a sign of the times that even the director of Naval Intel could not be sure who was listening to conversations in his office. He pressed a button on the panel,
“Admiral Silas Kavorian 3254747Alpha”
“Sir. Captain Tillermann, Operation Embrace has been a complete success”
Kavorian allowed his shoulders to sag just a little with relief,
“Excellent news, Captain, ……..the subjects ?”
“ Destroyed, Sir they rammed a Bogas station where the bait had landed”
“…and the escort….what is their status ?”
“All dead, Sir, there were no survivors”
“Very well, Captain return to base. Well done”

Kavorian, switched off the communication channel and typed a short sequence of numbers into a keypad on his desk. At the north gate of Farnham’s Legend an Argon Discoverer exploded, killing its pilot Captain Ernst Tillermann and erasing the little information he had for ever. Back in his office the admiral picked up his portable terminal,
“Lights.”
As he walked to the door the office lighting dimmed into standby. It had been a long but successful day and he was tired, if he recalled correctly his favorite opera was being broadcast on the entertainment channel this evening. A large whiskey and some music would be the perfect way to end this tazura…….

………….Breathing…..the sound of laboured breathing was deafening……..it took several sezura’s before Chris realised that the breathing was his own and several mizura’s more before his mind cleared enough to remember what had happened. As he opened his eyes and tried to focus the motion of the star field made him close them again as nausea set in.

Explosion……shockwave….slowly it came back. Activating the suits thrusters he used some of his precious fuel to bring his rotation to a halt and re-orientate himself with the sector. He was prepared for the worst yet it still came as a shock when he saw just how far out the successive shockwaves had carried him. The nearest station was over 200km away, so the fuel he had just used made no difference, he wouldn’t have made it anyway. He checked the life support readout built into the sleeve of his suit. He would be out of oxygen in a little under 20 mizura’s. The automatic distress beacon was working but this far out there was little hope of rescue.

He toyed with the idea of opening his helmet, rapid decompression would be infinitely quicker than a drawn out suffocation. Before he could make a decision, a half seen movement in the corner of his eye made him turn his head. Behind him the cargo doors of a Bayamon gaped like the mouth of an Argon Batchik, as it swallowed him …………

[Malcolm (Cyteen)]

Mmmmm I think this might be going somewhere. Keep it up.

Cyteen out

[silentWitness]

Didn't know you were writing stories... I'll be sure to look up all the previous parts!!!