Star Realms: Rescue Run Read online

  “Ladies!” Minister Jaileen said sternly.

  Joan turned back toward Minister Jaileen, shaking her head. “No, there’s no way I’m going to be on a team with Yui Amitosa.”

  “Ms. Amitosa is one of the Star Empire’s finest special operations officers,” Trian interjected, his voice as steady and calm as when Joan had first arrived. “I’ve had the pleasure of working with her on several assignments myself. She always gets the job done. Her presence on the team will not be negotiable.”

  “It’s also a condition of Minister Ethani agreeing to this plan,” Minister Jaileen said. “The council has already decided that she will be involved.”

  “Combat specialist. They put me into the most sensitive situations.” Yui’s voice was so annoyingly cheerful, Joan wanted to slap her. “Think of me as your guardian.” The word guardian rang as if to imply so you don’t do anything stupid.

  Joan said nothing, still in shock that her former commanding officer stood before her at all, let alone in this position. When did she have the time transfer to special operations, let alone be successful at it? Though, it wasn’t as if Joan had kept any tabs on the military since she entered the penal colony.

  “Not for solely that purpose. Ms. Amitosa has exceptional abilities with scouting, reconnaissance, and a plethora of other abilities. Her credentials are impeccable, but we should move on,” Minister Jaileen said.

  “You’re gonna make me blush,” Yui said. She brushed past Joan’s shoulder and leaned over the conference table, peering at the holovid display that still held the dossier of the planted spy inside Regency BioTech. “Hey I know this guy.” There was a fondness in her voice.

  “You’ve been on missions with him before,” Trian said. “So have I. This is a fine team you’ve assembled, Minister Jaileen.”

  Joan looked between the three of them, trying to keep her dismay off her face as best as possible. They sounded so tight knit and she couldn’t help but feel that Trian’s words excluded her. Which meant that she wouldn’t be leading this team at all. It’d be two against one every time. What were her options though? She couldn’t just walk away, or she’d be thrown into prison. Despite all that had happened to her, the Star Empire was her home. She did care about the coalition of planets that came together under Emperor Martine’s leadership.

  Once they arrived in Trade Federation space, she could branch out. Do her own thing alone with G.O.D. just like she always had. She had to play it cool for now. That was all. Joan forced another smile. “All right, where do we start?”

  Trian chimed in. “Well we’ve already secured passage to Regency BioTech’s headquarters, that’s the easy part. Our operative on the inside should be able to provide us with identicode inputs. Once there, we’ll have to do some reconnaissance to find out exactly where Commodore Zhang is being held.”

  “Do we have any way to run simulations? We shouldn’t go in cold,” Ms. Amitosa said.

  “We can certainly run simulations, but time is of the essence. We have a full training situation room which I believe can be used for this purpose. At the most though you’ll only have a few days before we need you to depart for Trade Federation space. The longer we wait, the more likely that Commodore Zhang will be compromised or perhaps killed. I’ll call down—”

  Blaring sirens interrupted Minister, repeating every three seconds. Strobes flashed from the corner of the conference room.

  No one needed to say a word. Everyone in the outer colonies knew exactly what those strobes and sirens meant. Every world had these drills. Joan knew them from when she was a little child. Her teachers had told them not to run or panic. But when the real situation arose, how could they be expected not to?

  All four of them shuffled quickly to the door, wordless. Joan couldn’t help but look outside, the skies clear for the time being. There was no word that this was a drill. It meant one thing—Blob attack.

  Chapter 8

  Rebellious Idea

  Regency BioTech Central Office, Mars

  Local Date January 27th, 2464

  Dario stood in front of the deck, overlooking the tri-leveled commercial retail promenade starmarket. Below were several shops dedicated to bodymods and various technological gadgetry, proprietary software experiences and holotainment. Hu’s on Third, located on the promenade’s third level, owned by prominent restaurateur Victor Hu, had been the hotspot since it opened last year. The view and the people watching experience was delightful, the food was elegant, and the décor was a sleek modern glass design throughout the premises. Even the speakers in the ceiling grid disappeared, piping in the latest in Glo-Beat music amidst the noisy background chatter.

  At least he’d had the foresight to get a reservation. Dario turned his back to the promenade, approaching a clear glass podium with a holodisplay. A hostess in a cocktail dress stood behind it, tapping in commands. She looked up, took Dario’s name, and led him to a table.

  Jake Dylan waited there with a menu in hand. He stood to greet Dario, offering his hand. “Sorry got here a little early. Don’t want to be late for the boss.”

  Dario shook Jake’s hand. “Don’t worry about that. This is personal time. Both of us need to relax after the last week. Fourteen hour shifts,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose with his other hand, even the thought of work gave him a headache.

  “That bad of a day?” Jake asked. He resumed his seat, giving Dario a warm smile.

  The hostess pulled the chair out from behind Dario, and he waved her off before sitting himself. “Rough couple weeks really. In retrospect, I can’t believe they threw that crisis to a new manager, expecting me to resolve it. I had no idea what I was doing and just guessed.”

  “You guessed well. We’re ahead of schedule resuming normal productivity. The algorithms show high productivity and normal output, which’ll make the board happy. Everyone wins,” Jake said, leaning back into his chair. “Seriously, you did a good job and maintained compassion as well. That’s pretty rare around these parts from what I’ve seen.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that a lot.” Dario said. He fiddled with his menu, looking it over in a rote manner. The words seemed to blend together before him. He tapped on a simple appetizer, and ordered himself a soda. “Thanks for meeting me here, by the way. It’s nice to get out sometimes, and I don’t have many people who I can consider friends. Most are afraid of my name or are so focused on rising in the company that it’s hard to talk. It’s been different with you for some reason.”

  “Well thank you. I had the same sense about you after our first crisis.” Jake trailed a finger down his menu and tapped his own order. “Sometimes it doesn’t feel right living up here on the Central Office. We lose all of our connection with real people and real problems. It’s different on smaller worlds or moons where you have to at least come face to face with some people who haven’t traveled the same paths as you.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that a lot.” Dario flicked his eyes to the left to remove a prior search of a travelogue on the left edge of his oculars’ view with pictures of the belt, Io and beyond to different systems. The oddest architecture he’d discovered came from Ecoccia Prime, a place nicknamed the Mech World for all of its focus on up to the minute technology. He wanted to see it himself at some point. “I’m not sure I’ll be allowed vacation for at least the next three months, and even then I doubt I’d have enough time accrued to venture far off world. If I do, maybe I could visit Earth at the most.”

  “Earth won’t do you any good. Other than the no-travel fallout zones, its structures are worse than here. You’ve got the extreme legacy companies there, ones that haven’t had shake ups in generations. And it’s the seat of the Trade Federation. Not worth the trip.” Jake set his menu down. A server-bot arrived with their drinks, depositing Dario’s soda and whatever hazy liquid Jake had in a tall glass. Jake took his into his hand, twisting the stem of the glass as he surveyed it. “I think your best bet is to take a trip downside to t
he underlevels, talk to a few real people there.”

  Dario looked downward at his drink, fizzing and bubbling in front of him.

  “Problem with that?”

  “Am I that easy to read?” Dario asked with a surprised laugh.

  “You’re not trying to hide anything, but having a knack for people is how I’ve come up through the ranks. I’m good at picking up on emotions, what people are thinking, what they want. What you want is peace of mind. You care about the whole populace, and know that the services and goods that we provide aren’t an end to themselves but are there to make people’s lives better. Even in entertainment or cosmetic mods it serves to make people happy. Am I right?”

  Was he right? Dario had never thought about it in that context before. He’d considered a lot about people and what the company did, but that didn’t often turn to internal reflection. It was a lot easier to think about the news, latest product offerings, holotainment adventures of any sort. He was connected to the nets full time, directly into his head. But what Jake said resonated. Had all of his concerns been about people’s lives in general? He’d never really wanted for anything, being the son of the great Mr. Anazao. People had bought him gifts since he was young, in futile attempts to get close to his father. Dario typically threw away those gifts, even from a young age. “Yeah,” he said after consideration. “You’re right. That’s exactly what I’ve been feeling. How do I do that? Make people’s lives better.”

  “You’re doing it. Handling this crisis was the first step. I really think you’d do well by actually asking the underlevelers for yourself though. I know it’s a taboo subject for people up here at the Central Office. The lower levels are somewhere no one goes. Why would they? There’s no spaceport there, nothing that you can’t obtain that you wouldn’t be able to just get better here.”

  Dario reached for his soda and took a small sip, letting the bubbles fizz down his throat. That feeling had brought him comfort in tough situations since he was a child. This chat wasn’t too difficult on the surface, but whenever he wanted to talk about something Mr. Anazao might not approve of, he clammed up. He wanted to trust Jake, and over the course of the past few weeks he’d learned that his assistant was about as upstanding of a guy that he could have asked for, but he also knew that his father had appointed him. Word might get back to others about Dario’s unorthodox interests, and that would mean more disappointment, more lectures at the very least. Though, if he were being honest with himself, it was too late already. He set the cup back down. “I already had this conversation with my father. He made it clear under no uncertain terms that I would not be allowed to visit the underlevels. I can’t ask them myself.”

  Jake grimaced. “I see. I’m sorry, Dario. I didn’t know.” He turned his head toward the exit and everyone else in the crowded restaurant then leaned in toward Dario. “You could always not tell him.”

  “Are you serious?” Dario scoffed at the suggestion. “He’s probably got my ident chip coded to alert him at any lift. He shows up at my quarters unannounced. I’m pretty sure he always knows where I’m at. Ugh.” He threw his head back in frustration.

  “Must be hard with an overbearing parent like that. Did your mom stick up for you when you were a kid?” He cocked his head as if to add an unsaid “and now?”

  “Yeah, well, she’s got her own career, but she ends up doing what he says. Always has. They’re a team, a picture-perfect couple like you’d find in holovids, when they’re together. It’s really not that bad. I mean look at my life, I’m reaching positions where most people will never even dream to obtain and at a pretty young age. I shouldn’t be complaining.”

  “Nah, it’s all right. We all have our own problems, family or otherwise. Look… if you really want to do this,” Jake said, lowering his voice. “I know how to code handtabs to give off false ident signals. We can create something for you, get you in, and get you out without him ever knowing.”

  “That sounds illegal,” Dario said cautiously.

  Jake shrugged. “When you’ve lived a life like I have, you move around. That means knowing how to get past standard security protocols. Yeah, it’s not exactly legal, but if you get caught they just wipe what you’ve got, maybe hold you up for a night and move you on. Kids do it all the time to get into bars like this, to get served some alcohol.” He set his glass down. “It’s not like we’re stealing someone’s identity, just tricking a computer so that your father doesn’t lash out at you for what’s a really good idea. I think it should be mandatory for the corporate higher ups to visit the underlevels at least occasionally, see what it’s like before making decisions that impact millions of people.”

  The prospect of doing something illegal, no matter how small, irked Dario. Maybe it wasn’t important for Jake, but those sort of things lasted on a person’s permanent record. If he was caught, someone would always see that Dario used a false identification method to go visit the underlevels. That could generate talk whenever his profile was pulled by the higher ups. It could ruin his career. But did he care about that? Did it really matter with him being an Anazao as it was? Mr. Anazao had a lot of pull, Dario knew that. His current promotion could even be called suspect. It was a little early in his tenure with the company to be advanced to a management position. But this was neither here nor there. Was he comfortable with Jake’s idea? He stared at the man for a long second. He barely knew his assistant, a couple of weeks at best. What if this was some test? “I don’t know. There has to be another way.”

  “Well, we could always just try to slip out without your father noticing.”

  “No good. Trust me. He’ll find out. He may even find out with your plan.”

  “Was just a thought,” Jake said, shrugging. He took a small drink, looking off toward the crowded bar.

  “I don’t know. You’re right. I do need to see what’s going on down there. I’m just not sure right now is the time. Maybe I should wait until I’m a little more solidified in my position, to where people trust me and not just my last name. I want to do more, something to really make an impact, that’s all.”

  Jake glanced back and raised his glass in toast to Dario. “You’ll do more. Trust me, I know. This is going to be a good partnership. I’m happy to be working for you.”

  “Yeah, thanks Jake,” Dario said. He didn’t feel as sure as his assistant sounded.

  Chapter 9

  Duck and Cover

  Trantine X—H.C.S.E. Intelligence HQ

  Local Date 1137.523

  Joan scurried down the back stairwell of the megascraper. Emergency lights colored the narrow passageway a dull orange. Her footsteps clinked on metal—along with the other thousands of people in the building trying to get to the street and then to underground shelters.

  “How much time do you think we have?” Joan asked to Minister Jaileen behind her.

  “I’m not certain. We received no reports. I hope the navy can scramble system defense fighter units in time.” Though trying to project calm, Minister Jaileen sounded worried.

  The light at the current level flickered. Emergency power was only meant to last for a few minutes. Level two hundred and three, read a sign near to her. How much longer would it take them to get to the surface?

  If a Blob strike beam hit the building, it wouldn’t matter what level she was on. She’d be dead either from the blast or from debris falling on her head. A whole block’s radius would be wiped out.

  People flooded in from each floor, slowing the descent to a near stop.

  “What’s our plan for the mission?” Trian asked from ahead of her as he quickly glanced back toward Minister Jaileen. “If we don’t have this world as a base of operations, there’s no reason to set up somewhere else.”

  “Aren’t we counting our credits a little early?” Joan asked. “We have to survive this first.”

  “Always worried about your own skin and nothing else, aren’t’cha?” Yui said.

  Joan rolled her eyes but held back her urge to
turn around, holding up the whole line of descending people and smack Yui across the head. In Blob attacks, survival took far more precedence than personal grudges.

  The vids she’d seen in basic training showed whole worlds leveled within hours. Commodore Zhang had been credited with disabling one of their vessels allowing the Star Empire to capture it and reverse engineer some of their weapons. Since that point the colonies had been able to fight back to some degree, but human weapons technology still paled in comparison to what she’d seen in those vids.

  “You’re right, Ms. Shengtu,” Minister Jaileen said. “We’ll talk about further missions and contingency plans when we make it out of here. However, we won’t be heading to a shelter. I’ve received orders through my integrated comm that we’re to head to the spaceport.”

  “Sounds dangerous,” Yui said.

  “Does that bother you?” Joan asked, a bite to her voice she couldn’t control.

  “Not if it’s a smart dangerous.”

  “What’s that—”

  The stairwell shook. People screamed and grasped for the rails.

  “They must have struck nearby,” Minister Jaileen said.

  “I don’t like the idea of launching in the middle of a Blob attack, I’ll be honest,” Joan said.

  “Spacers,” Yui retorted. “The shelters are somewhat more safe than the surface with an attack like this, but only somewhat. The mission is critical. We have to get off world and out of the system immediately.”

  “If it makes you more comfortable,” Minister Jaileen said, “I’m told you will have a heavy escort.”

  They continued down the stairwell in silence. Fear of death wafted throughout their stuffy descent. Joan and her team made their way out to the street. She shielded her eyes from what she first thought was bright sunlight, before Yui pushed her to the side.