Star Realms: Rescue Run Read online

  “I object to trusting the fate of Commodore Zhang to this…” Minister Ethani’s dark eyes focused on Joan, his arm extended in her direction. “This cretin. The fact that the intelligence committee could even consider this an option is beyond me.”

  Joan’s stomach clenched, her flight instinct overcoming her. But where would she escape to? If she were on the Council of Ministers’s ship, it had to be a Dreadnaught Class at least, which meant thousands of crew and soldiers before she could even find an escape shuttle. Even if she managed to steal a craft and escape the vessel, they could shoot her out of the sky. Not as if she would be likely to get that far. With G.O.D. malfunctioning, she wouldn’t even be able to navigate her way through the ship safely.

  “We’re wasting valuable time,” Minister Jaileen said.

  “I concur. I may have a solution to assuage Minister Ethani’s concerns if we do decide to go through this plan. Perhaps we should dispense with the biography and get to the point?” the bearded man asked.

  “As you say.” Minister Jaileen bowed her head before sliding a finger across her handtab. “Joan Shengtu has subsequently become one of the foremost sought after thieves and smugglers on this side of the Hyrades Cluster.”

  Joan’s eyes went wide. She had? Since when? Her broker had told her she’d just begun to form a reputation. When she escaped, she’d have to review their most recent agreements. If he’d been skimming, she’d have more than a few choice words.

  At that moment, the latest single from Pr0ject N01se blasted in her auditory implant. Joan recoiled, grimacing. She applied pressure to her ear, as if that would do anything to dampen the signal, already on the inside. “G.O.D.! Stop it!” Of all the times to malfunction…

  “No need to swear,” another of the Ministers, a woman in a sari, said. Her accent thick with airy, staccato words, typical of the Rendoni System.

  The music shut off. They didn’t know about her AI. That was good. But his malfunctions were starting to become burdensome. Her ears rang with a high pitched buzz. “I just don’t know what I’m doing here. If you’re going to shoot me or put me back in prison, get it over with. “

  The bearded man cocked his head at Minister Jaileen. “She is unaware?”

  “We hadn’t had time to go over the mission parameters. Besides, until this Council gave authorization and confirmed they were comfortable with her, I thought it best not to divulge any state secrets.”

  Joan glanced to the ministers, all of the eyes in the room intent on her. If their plan had been to unnerve her, they were succeeding. This wasn’t a trial or execution, so what was it? “What do you want with me?”

  The woman with the sari hit the controls before her, which illuminated a section of the table in front of her a bright yellow.

  “Minister Kumaran your question is recognized by this body,” the bearded man said somewhat through his teeth.

  “You say she is in high demand, but by whom, and how do we know this?” Minister Kumaran asked to Minister Jaileen.

  “Excellent question. If you load page one hundred and fifteen of your briefings, you’ll see the intelligence reports that brought us to Ms. Shengtu. You’ll also find that we recently intercepted an attempt to employ Ms. Shengtu from one Byron Tseng, who is purported to be the boss of the Open Hand Syndicate.”

  The room devolved into a series of mutters once more. The bearded man banged his gavel. “Let’s get through this, Ministers. I know the Syndicate has been a perpetual thorn in our sides as we’ve been stabilizing this government, but that’s irrelevant here. What matters are Ms. Shengtu’s qualifications.”

  Joan paled. The Open Hand Syndicate wanted her? This was getting crazier by the minute. Not only would she never work for a bunch of goons who shook down and murdered innocent people, but how would they know about her? She knew it was her imagination, but the room felt like it was closing in on her. It would have been better to be back in her cell. Whatever she had stumbled upon, this was too big of a game for her. Joan dug her nails into the side of her chair. “I think you have the wrong person,” she said.

  The room quieted to the dull hum of the ship’s engines. Minister Jaileen turned to Joan, the smile-lines on her face showing her age through her dire expression. “I’ll level with you. The Star Empire is in trouble. My name is Minister Tanya Jaileen, and I head the Star Empire Intelligence Committee. Our analysts have concluded that you’re the best hope to lead a mission to get us out of this jam. We implore you to consider a return to active service.”

  Chapter 4

  Crisis Management

  Regency BioTech Central Office, Mars

  Local Date January 17th, 2464

  “Mr. Anazao, sorry to wake you. We have a crisis,” Jake said. The man stood in front of Dario’s apartment doorway, primed and ready to go in a fresh suit as if he were naturally up at this hour. His thermal signature appeared in Dario’s retinal view, heart racing, especially for someone who had just woken from sleep.

  What time was it anyway? Dario glanced back to his wall chrono: three in the morning. Never in the course of his work had he been woken up during off hours to complete a task. There had been points where he had to stay late to meet a deadline, or even wake up obscenely early, but a crisis? What kind of crisis could there be in a quality control branch that couldn’t wait until business hours? He realized he wore his typical night attire—a fitted tee and silk shorts, as underdressed as someone could be in Jake’s presence. Dario felt his face flush. “Ahh, give me a second to get some clothes on, okay?”

  “Of course, Mr. Anazao.” Jake clasped his hands in front of him to wait.

  Dario stepped to his closet, fumbling for clean clothing. With no time to worry about looking his best, he fumbled into the first clothes he found. Once dressed, he took one sweeping glance around his apartment. Did he forget anything he needed for work? Morning grogginess made it difficult to think. He reached for a cabinet, and depressed the dispenser to the LupienCo Stim Cream. A soft orange foam sprayed onto his hand and dissipated directly into his skin. Within a few moments he’d feel human again.

  When he returned to the door, Jake Dylan still stood where he’d been left, hands in that same patient position. “All ready, Mr. Anazao? I’ll brief you on the way over.”

  “Dario. Just Dario. I told you.”

  Jake gave an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that, old habits,” he said, leading Dario down the hallway. They rounded the corner and stopped at the work lift. Jake slid his wrist over the terminal syncing his handtab. A list of suggested destinations appeared in a holo over the terminal. Jake slid a finger over Operations Level 47 and the lift door opened before them. He motioned for Dario to step inside.

  “So what’s going on? What kind of emergency could happen with our department that can’t wait until morning?” Dario asked, placing his hand on the railing.

  The lift doors closed. “The quality control plant on worker level three has been compromised,” Jake said, clutching the railing himself. The lift car accelerated, taking the diagonal path downward toward the operation levels.

  “Compromised? Thieves?” Dario asked. He hadn’t been briefed on all of his new duties as Corporate Quality Control Manager. Did those include overseeing security personnel? They had their own department with thousands of their own employees, along with the peacekeepers for off-world contingency operations that fed into the overall Trade Federation forces. Dario had little personal experience with security.

  Jake shook his head. “Not thieves, rioters. Someone’s targeted quality control because of its geographic location central to the underlevel union hall. I don’t know all of the details yet, only that there’s been an attack. We’ll have to get our security feed and make recommendations. You’ll also need to give authorization for further action.”

  “Authorization?” Dario asked, already overwhelmed. He hadn’t had time for proper training. What could he know about making the right call in these situations? The company had promoted him
for his scores, but did those account for training time? Those algorithms wouldn’t have placed him in a situation beyond his capabilities. But what metrics could conceive of fluke events like riots on the first day of the job? “I think we should contact my predecessor, Arthur Miello, and get his advice on this, yeah?”

  “Very good, sir,” Jake Dylan said. He sounded sincere.

  The lift car stopped and doors opened to an open area level, wall projections of large open space and Earth-natural scenery gave the employees a sense of comfort. Corporate psychologists had found early on that station life caused undue stress over long periods of time for most people, even on the larger stations. Though everyone knew the wall projections were there, it still created a feeling of a less confining space, at least to the internal psyche. Once those projections were implemented, psychological health scores increased within days.

  Jake and Dario walked along that faux-open scenery, passing the path that led to the peacekeepers’ portion of the station, until they reached what appeared to be a classic styled office building within the Central Office. Double doors opened to allow them entry. A security guard sat at the reception desk, a larger man with RBT Security embroidered to look like a badge on his chest. He inclined his head toward Dario when he saw him. They’d chatted together on occasion when Dario was early for his regular shifts as a quality control operator.

  Inside the office was a sea of open cubicles, a large department of quality control surveyors who checked the physical work of the machines and unskilled employees in the underlevels. Jake weaved around the first row of cubes, leading Dario to a corridor of offices and conference rooms.

  The first conference room had members of Dario’s team who he recognized from before. At the head of the table sat Daniella de Riko, a woman with similar oculars to Dario’s, but a silver hue. She stared at a holovid that hovered over the conference table, labeled: QUALITY CONTROL CENTER BUILDING 3C—MARS FACILITY. Smoke plumed from the building and fire trickled light outside of the windows in the Mars night sky.

  Dozens of people haphazardly circled the underlevel manufacturing plant. Others ran out from the main doors holding computers and robotic equipment, as well as piles of biomods. Two men fought over a cartload of goods. One man pulled a plasma pistol on the other. People fled from around them and the man fired, his rival dropping to the ground. The remaining man took off running, pushing the cart of goods ahead with him.

  “Savages,” said Antonio Dalton, one of the other quality control team members. The holodisplay’s translucent contents reflected on his face.

  Dario walked to the table, staring at the looting in front of him as the people on the holodisplay fled from the scene. What could drive people to act like this? He flicked his eyes upward and to the right, the deliberate movement to search Regency BioTech nets. Net Search: News stories. Underlevels riots. The basic thought triggered his eyes to display a layer of news links that the others couldn’t see, tied to his optic nerve in a manner that didn’t impact his standard vision.

  Analyze, brief. A feature he often used to distill information. Preliminary news reports showed that the quality control facility had property value of nearly three million credits. Early analysis estimated half that figure in damages and half again in Regency BioTech product either stolen or destroyed. The news agency had confirmed at least three deaths, but a looter was able to strike their close-up drone with a metal rod, taking the camera out of service and leaving only the peripheral camera feeds online. Riots were estimated to spread through the city blocks of level three around the facility. Total estimated damage and loss of life unknown.

  Dario took a deep breath and surveyed the team. “Perhaps we should go down there, try to pacify the situation, see why they’re rioting,” he said. Each member of his team was fixated on the holodisplay, frozen in horror.

  Jake caught Dario’s eye and gave a somber nod in his direction.

  “Dario,” Antonio said with the shake of his head, “We can’t risk you or any of us going down to the underlevels, even on a good day, let alone in a crisis situation like this. Those areas aren’t for corporate higher ups. If we need to survey the location we can send drones and link in through the VR systems. What we need is your authorization to be able to take action to close out the emergency.” He swiveled in his chair toward Daniella. “Do you have the recommended plan?”

  “Yes, we’ll need to dispatch BioMechs with sleep gas to flood the whole level for at least a three block radius. Once the perpetrators are incapacitated we can assess the situation and proceed with cleanup,” Daniella said.

  It sounded reasonable. No one would get hurt and the situation would be remedied when the looters and rioters couldn’t maintain consciousness. This was his first real decision as manager, something that would set the tone of his tenure. He tried to sound authoritative. “Let’s do it. How long before the plan can be executed?”

  “BioMechs are already on the scene, just present your handtab for approval,” Antonio said.

  Dario pulled back his sleeve and placed his wrist square with the holodisplay sync. A chime sounded and the authorization proceeded, the text of the order scrolling on Dario’s oculars before he closed out of the window.

  The holodisplay zoomed out. The immediate area around the building filled with smoke. A moment later, the sleep gas mixed with the air and created a full haze over the quality control center. The people in the streets disappeared into that thick cloud in front of the cameras. On the edges of the display, over a dozen BioMechs cut off any potential rioters from coming to or exiting the scene. Their full armor plating and phase cannons pointed forward, looming ominously.

  More people from the quality control offices gathered around the table to watch the scene. The smoke thinned and bodies lay on the ground in front of the looted building. The BioMechs turned their attention toward the fires, spraying retardant onto the smoldering areas until little remained but char and ashes.

  “Where do the detained rioters go? Do we call corporate security?” Dario looked over to Jake, who still had his eyes fixed on the holodisplay. He appeared more distraught than the others, as if taking this riot personally.

  Daniella raised her hand off the table to obtain Dario’s attention and chimed in, “This level doesn’t have a security penitentiary. The cost of hauling that many bodies would be prohibitive and create a loss scenario.”

  “You mean we’ll just leave them there? There’s smoke, carcinogens all around, not to mention the other dangers of the streets. That’s inhumane,” Jake said.

  “I agree with Jake,” Dario said, meeting Daniella’s eyes.

  Her oculars shined back, impossible to get a read on her mood. “Agree or not,” Daniella said, shaking her head and side-glancing over to Antonio, “there’s budget and overhead to consider here.”

  Antonio tapped his handtab several times. “I’ve run the figures, we’re looking at a loss of a hundred and fifty thousand credits in units alone. It’s nearly as bad as what we incurred with the Pirates of the Dark Star raid last year. We’ll have to report this to the manufacturing department to see if they can have their assemblies clock overtime. That’ll be the only way to meet our monthly quota” Worry crossed his face. “Those figures don’t include reconstruction costs, boss.”

  Dario shook his head in disbelief and pointed at the holodisplay. “We’re talking about real people down there! It’s three-thirty in the morning. These people need a safe place to recover at the very least. Anything with business logistics or the budget can be handled later.”

  “Mr. Anazao, with all due respect, we’re here to look after corporate interests,” Daniella said, blinking at him as if he’d said something irrelevant.

  “We can do both. It’s not all or nothing, and Dario’s right, the budgeting talk will make more sense when we’re not all half-asleep and on edge,” Jake said, leaning over the table. He pointed to a couple of the bodies that had fallen to the street. “When these two wake up, you th
ink they’re going to be satisfied and return home? They’re going to be livid, and that means a fresh round of looting. The only thing that will stop that is removing them from the streets. That’s what you were trying to say, yes?” he focused on Dario.

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I meant.” On his internal visual screen a news feed development link appeared. Feed Summarize. The information on the riot had leaked to various media outlets outside Regency control, and the news had been obtained by Regency BioTech’s chief competitor, Genegrowth, Inc. Their news media could escalate this situation out of control if it weren’t curtailed. “This has become more pressing. We need to get these images off the streets and show a calmer scenario before the world starts to wake up. Make sure we contact someone in marketing and publicity as well. The company will need to show that this was an isolated incident, something small, nothing to worry about. You understand?” He inclined his head toward his team.

  “Good thinking, boss,” Antonio said, tapping on his handtab once more. “I’m on it. Security can be dispatched within the half hour.”

  Daniella nodded, following Dario’s train of thought. “I’ll get hold of Ethan, he’s a friend of mine in the marketing department. Hope he doesn’t kill me for dropping by his place at this hour.”

  “If we prevent a corporate catastrophe, he’ll thank you,” Jake said.

  “All right. I’m heading back to my apartment to get some rest, we’ll be loaded with questions from the higher ups in the morning and we need to be fresh. The situation’s under control for now. We’ll meet to deal with the business end later today, okay?”