Chapter 2
Charred wreckage floated through space, filling the Caldonian star system from its core, all the way past its inhabited planets, and out to the very brink of the void. Organic and composite hull material, titanium weapons housings, men and women of different races, all joined together in death, floated through the abyss. Hundreds of ships, many of them Ta’Reeth, but quite a few Caldonian as well, had perished here. Somehow the space station had survived, though it too was heavily damaged.
Weaving its path carefully through the wreckage, in a way as to not attract attention, was a single ship, smaller than an escort, but larger than a fighter. It was black, and sleek in profile, lending it the look of a small predator ready to strike in any direction, at any time. There were no visible markings, and no viewports to be seen, save for a single forward view screen that allowed the crew to see out, but none to see in.
Bregan Arot kept a steady hand on the controls of his ship as he gently guided the Adu’Raq Long Range Stealth Fighter through the sensor sweeps, and safely into the stations blind spot before settling against the battered hull of the space station. It had taken him nearly a week to select this spot, and the slightest twitch in the wrong direction would jeopardize his mission. When the elegant and deadly little ship finally settled, he activated the magnetic locks, securing his ship in place.
After he set the security protocols, and activated the ships chameleonic armor plating, Bregan quickly gathered his tools and went to the airlock nestled in the belly of his ship. He double checked the seal, and then opened the airlock. On the other side of the door was the hull of the space station. He ran a quick test on the tortured surface, selected the proper tools, and then set about cutting it open. Normally the task would only take a few minutes, but the Caldonians tended to use a tougher, denser blend of poly-carbons in their hull plating, making the task of cutting through it undetected take considerably longer. Simply blasting a hole through the hull seemed simple enough, but Bregan couldn’t allow the chance that it would set off any alarms or attract unwanted attention, so he settled in and waited for his plasma cutter to do its job.
This was a simple mission, just like any of the hundreds before it. His instructions had been simple enough; go in, do the job, and get out without anyone knowing that he had been there. He knew his job, and he was good at it. Every member of the Adu’Raq was. They had to be.
The plasma cutter finally completed its cycle, and Bregan readied himself for the task of removing the section of hull. He fastened a pair of small anti gravity pods to the metal and flicked them on. Normally, he would have simply removed the section by hand, and let it drop to the deck, but the denser metals also weighed a lot more, so he had no choice but to use the antigravity pods. With the pods working well within their efficiency range, the section of hull slid easily away from the space station. Bregan gently set the massive piece of metal on the deck, collected his tools, and stepped through the hull.
On the other side of the hull was a section of the station that no one had ever set foot in, except for when the station had been built. He didn’t step right into the station proper, but instead he entered the space between the twin armored hulls, with just enough room for him to drag his equipment along.
Taking only a moment to orient himself with the station alignment, Bregan activated his ocular implants. He had allowed himself only a handful of modifications, but upgrading his eyes and ears had been the first and most valuable of them. Few creatures could see in the dark as well as he did, and that made most of them easy prey.
Bregan moved swift and silent along the inner hull, not stopping until he was over a kilometer from his ship. He braced himself between the hulls, securing his bag of tools to a nearby support beam. Moments later, he removed a handheld computer from his bag and linked with the onboard systems of his ship. As he expected, his security protocols had been effective; everything was safe and he now had a link that was overriding the stations security feeds, making him virtually invisible.
He would have smiled at the fact that everything was going as he planned, but that would have been the sign of an amateur. Once he was certain that the stations security systems were rendered useless, Bregan started to work. He set up his plasma cutter, and started its cycle, watching his monitor intently the whole time. It wasn’t that he expected anyone to find him; it was simply his training taking over and making him cautious.
Once the plasma cutter finished its cycle, Bregan attached his antigravity pods to the section of hull, and quickly removed it. The piece of hull plating was small, barely large enough for Bregan to squeeze through the hole, but it still weighed several hundred kilos. Using a set of portable magnetic locks, Bregan secured the piece of plating to the hull and gathered his tools before he stepped inside.
Darkness shielded Bregan as he double checked his location. He had studied the stations blueprints extensively and knew precisely where he was, but caution was always a valuable ally in his line of work. Especially when you were an unwanted guest on a Caldonian battle station. He was right. Four kilometers in from his present location were the power core, the engineering complex, and every other system that was needed to run a space station.
Bregan checked his scanners, making certain that there wasn’t going to be any unwanted company, and carefully maneuvered the hull plating back into place, setting the antigravity pods on remote so that he could access them from inside the station. Judging from the amount of damage he had seen along his path, several lacerations in the hull, and scorch marks that stained the striated metal, most of the stations crew had to be otherwise occupied, either tending the wounded or repairing the station itself.
Keeping to the darkness of the shadows, Bregan crept silently forward, carefully avoiding any that came within his path. He worked methodically, stopping first in the Engineering complex. Ensuring that he hadn’t been noticed, Bregan reached into his bag and removed a small black box. Still out of sight of the Caldonians working in the area, he slipped past an open access panel, and never breaking stride, he swiftly dropped the box inside then disappeared back into the void.
Bregan worked his way through the station, placing black boxes in several different locations, far apart from each other. His training served him well, allowing him to disappear in plain sight, and being the only human on a space station filled with battle hardened Caldonians, the skill came in useful indeed.
The shadows consumed Bregan and his movements so much so, that he didn’t register even on his own security readouts. He was a ghost that moved among the living, doing what he desired, never drawing attention from anyone. Bregan moved swiftly through the station as he deposited his wares in all areas, in conduits, behind open access panels, in every system that the station had until he had only one left. This one he reserved for the Command Center, his hardest target yet. If he was successful, he would have control of the entire station, and its systems, but most importantly he would have the communications relays and backlogs. He would have every word and data package, sent or received, since the station was first commissioned.
For the last package to be properly located, it needed to be inside the Command Centers mainframe. It was a daunting task, but Bregan reveled in the challenge. He recalled the schematics and blue prints of the station, as if they were before his eyes at that very moment. Located between decks, directly beneath the Command Center, with only one way in or out, and guarded by an array of electronic barriers that augmented the six roving guards, was the Mainframe. The guards were always within sight of at least two of their comrades, and their vital signs were monitored at all times by a seventh guard in the Command Center itself.
A direct assault was suicide, so Bregan had to find another way. He had studied the station relentlessly when he accepted this assignment, forming his plans long before he ever arrived in Caldonian space. He was an Adu’Raq, and that meant that he was the best at what he did. His Adu’Raq brethren demanded no less.
It took Br
egan several hours to make his way, undetected, to the junction were he would do his work. He was a level below the Mainframe, and nearly a kilometer away, but this was the best route for him to take for his mission. Directly over his head was a ventilation duct that ran beneath the Mainframe itself. Undoubtedly it was protected by various arrays of sensor suites, but it was nothing that Bregan couldn’t handle. He quickly slipped his tool bag from his shoulder, and pulled out a small scanner. He was right. There were several sensors aimed right at his point of entry.
“You there! What are you doing?” the deep baritone voice startled Bregan. He spun around quickly, loosing a pair of throwing knives and darting towards his target before the blades buried themselves in the throat of the mountainous Caldonian. He reached the dead man before the body crumpled, catching him so as to not make a sound. Bregan silently berated himself for being careless as he pulled the knives free and wiped them on the dead man’s tunic. He was careful not to nick the carotid artery; for fear that the blood would leave a trace.
Bregan took hold of the body and managed to drag it out of sight, and stuffed it in a storage locker before another threat came along. When he was satisfied that the body wouldn’t be discovered until after he was finished, Bregan returned to what he had been doing. He activated the function on his suit that allowed him to climb the wall, and cling effortlessly to the ceiling. Taking a small wrench out of his tool kit, Bregan carefully removed the fasteners that held the grating in place that was barring his entry to the ventilation system. He kept hold of the grating, lest it fall and attract unwanted attention, and slipped quietly inside the ventilation duct before carefully reinstalling the grating and fasteners. When he was done, there was no trace that he had ever been there.
Taking only a moment to get reasonably comfortable in the confines of the ventilation duct, Bregan pressed on with his mission. He activated his scanners, searching for the security systems that he knew were there, and when he found them, he quickly bypassed them, preventing anyone from spying on him as he worked. Minutes passed quickly as he crawled closer to the Mainframe, careful to not make any sound louder that a faint whisper. Sound carries, and in a hollow metal tube, sounds echo and convey farther than most would realize, building upon themselves until inevitably they are heard.
Finally, Bregan came to a stop beneath the Mainframe. He rolled over, loosening his pack and reaching inside. What he held in his hand looked similar to the black modules that he had placed throughout the station, but this one was slightly different. It was a little bit bigger, with short, knobby protrusions on all sides. Bregan hefted the module in his hand, feeling the weight of the device, then placed it firmly on the roof of the ventilation duct, making certain that it stayed in place. Once the device was placed, he pressed a hidden button on its side to turn it on, then crawled away down the duct in the opposite direction as to where he had come.
Several kilometers from where he had planted the last device, Bregan finally stopped. He checked his sensor readings, then removed a screen and slithered out of the ventilation system. Bregan wondered how long it would take for the Caldonians to find the body as he quickly set the screen back in place. When he was satisfied with his work, he checked his sensors yet again, and then set off for his ship.
Keeping to the back passageways and shadows, Bregan covered the short distance to his ship quickly. When he reached his point of entry, the room was dark and unmolested. He had been the only one there for a very long time. He inventoried his wares quickly before he opened the hole in the hull and stepped through. Once he was between the massive twin hulls, Bregan set the hull plating back in place and methodically welded it shut. Killing one person during an assignment was one thing. Killing thousands through negligence was something else entirely.
Bregan packed his tools yet again, and crawled between the hulls, back to his ship. Once he was back aboard the Phantom Rapier, he quickly set the hull plating in position, welding it in place so that it would hold even against an assault. When he was finished, Bregan sealed the air lock, and made his way to the crew station. Layer upon layer of monitors and controls filled every conceivable surface, each running its own program or function as the Phantom Rapier downloaded hundreds of thousands of terabytes of information from every computer system on the station, and stored it for easy access later.
Easing himself into his seat, Bregan relaxed slightly. His mission wasn’t quite finished, but he had successfully completed the most dangerous part with only one mistake. He had hoped to accomplish what he needed to do without any bloodshed, but what was done was done and he could no more bring the Caldonian back to life than he could travel backwards through time. Such was the life that he led. Mistakes and oversights usually resulted in death, either your own, or that of some innocent bystander that was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Sighing, Bregan touched the hidden stud behind his ear and waited as the mask that covered his face popped and hissed as it slowly withdrew into the collar of his onyx body armor. Bregan ran his hands over his face, and his fingers through his short cropped blonde hair. He looked at his reflection in the vast star field that shone through the front view screen of his ship. He wasn’t a handsome man, but neither was he ugly. Bregan had always thought of himself as astonishingly plain, and that had served him well over the years. Aside from his piercing blue eyes, he looked haggard; tired from the strain of life, but ready to do whatever he needed in order to survive.
He tried not to dwell on the failures of the day. Too much negative thinking wasn’t good for anyone, and it never helped to resolve any deficiencies. Neither was being overly optimistic very productive. Actions based in rational thinking paid off, and that was how he liked it. With those thoughts in mind, Bregan began to work.
His mind raced ahead of his actions as he activated a series of computer programs that sorted through the enormous amounts of information that he was taking from the Caldonians. The programs were set to translate and decode the various types of files, and to alert him when they found ones that were encrypted. Hours passed slowly by as Bregan waited. He finally rose from his seat and went to his quarters where he bathed and dressed in fresh clothes before he found something to eat and went back to work.
When Bregan finally returned to his work station, there were several priority files that had been tagged for him to look over. Grinning to himself, Bregan opened the first one.
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