From the Other Side

Story by Kael Duranus on SoFurry

, , , , , , , , , ,

Imported from SF2 with no description.


Alrighty, so, once again, I apologize for the delay. Here we go, the next chapter of the Odds against for your viewing pleasure. I hope you enjoy it.

As always, comments are appreciated and requested.


continued from 'Hitting a wall'

12-3-3015

Time Index; 0314 hours GST

MAS Yunius

Seranus system, Merxian space

Tyr took a step into his quarters and felt the door close behind him, the coyote officer settling back against the cool metallic surface, closing his eyes wearily. After the awards ceremony the day before, he, like every other Marine in the ship, was supposed to have had the day off. And, after the difficult discussion he had had with Larn, he had been looking forward to an easy day. But, as always seemed to happen, what was supposed to take place, and what actually happened, very rarely matched up. The orders which directed the Yunius to depart from Seranus had showed up 12 hours before anyone had expected them, and had, among other things, directed them to leave orbit as soon as possible.

Which, of course, meant that someone in the Turlion Rangers had to double check that all of the supplies and replacements due to the battalion had arrived on board. Anything and anyone that had not yet arrived by the time they left orbit had to be drawn up into a list and orders had to be cut for them to meet the carrier on route to its next destination. Since the authority for all of that ultimately rested with him anyway, Tyr had spent the rest of the day, and on into the night, working through it all. Then, he and Katy had spent hours going through some of the files he had stolen from the Black Claws on Sython, which had started to give them a much clearer view of the way the Conclave was set up, though it was still far from definite. But, finally when the pair could barely focus on their work anymore, they had bidden each other goodnight and parted ways.

Now, finally, with the ship on an outbound vector from the orbit of Seranus, the exhausted canid could take time to sleep. What was more, when the ship was in FTL drive, and all of their equipment either newly supplied or freshly repaired, only the few Marines who had drawn guard duty in the sensitive sections of the ship had anything of consequence to do. Most of the Rangers would be spending the time drilling and practicing in the ship’s training deck, working to get the new members integrated into their companies and platoons, and tweaking their new equipment and weapons to their personal tastes, none of which required his attention. But then, even as he headed for his bunk, fully intending to take advantage of the rare privilege of having almost nothing to do, the comlink he wore clipped to his belt chirped for attention and he groaned, shaking his head in resignation.

“Of course.” He said to himself, taking the device from its place and tapping the activation key. “Colonel Asanderin.”

“Communications here, Colonel.” The voice on the comlink said and he barely restrained a growl. As military vessels prepared to jump outward from friendly systems, it was protocol to query the hypercom network, to collect all the messages earmarked for the ship or its crew, on the theory that they would have time to read them all before they returned to normal space. Of course, when the jump was to be completed at such an early hour, Communications usually had the courtesy to just send it to the user’s message account without bothering him. “Sorry to disturb you sir, but we have a data packet addressed to you that is tagged as high priority.”

“Alright, route it to my terminal.” Tyr said, changing course and heading instead for the computer terminal in the small suite’s outer room. Grumbling to himself as the comlink switched off, the coyote flopped down wearily into the chair and put his right hand over the reader, waiting for it to scan his clearance chip and activate the display. After a moment, the ‘Message Waiting’ prompt popped up on the display, and he looked curiously at it for a few moments. There was no sender listed for the files, not even a point of origin code telling what star system it might have come from. As far as the computer was concerned, the message might as well have originated from nowhere at all. Intrigued, he tapped the prompt with one finger, telling the interface to access the waiting message. Immediately, the system displayed the first file in the packet, bringing up a still, dim image of a familiar looking white and black chiropteran. When his tired brain finally resolved the identity of the individual, the exhaustion faded behind a sudden sharp feeling of surprise, his eyes going wide.

“I know you are probably surprised to see me, Colonel,” Commander Raiselle said from his seat at what looked like the terminal in the captain’s cabin aboard the Adaron, the lights in the room too dim to know for sure. “But, if you are seeing this, then it means I’m dead and this is far too important to die with me. Normally, I would have sent this kind of thing to a friend, but I know better than to trust any of the ‘friends’ I had from...before, with this, and all the rest are already dead, so you will have to do. Why you?” The acerbic Naval Commander smirked at the rhetorical question and Tyr had the brief surreal impression that the message was somehow live, because he had been wondering that exact thing.

“Well, I could say that your reputation precedes you, or that I just wished to haunt you after I died. But in truth, you have earned my respect, and that maybe is the closest thing I have to friendship these days.” The bat paused once more, then continued, gesturing to the bottom of the display, where the rest of the packet’s files waited to be looked at, again giving the impression of being a live connection. “I’m going to assume you are aware that I wasn’t always in Fleet Operations; actually most of my career was spent in Intelligence. In my last year at the Naval Academy, I was recruited to be part of what I was told was a secret department within Naval Intelligence, operating completely in the shadows, beyond the mandate and means of most of the service. I was told it was to accomplish things that needed to be done to protect the Alliance, no matter their nature. It didn’t take me long to began to suspect that the things we were doing, the missions we were completing, had nothing whatever to do with the Alliance, and I started to keep my eyes open, started digging into things. Finally, I asked the wrong question of the wrong person, and they immediately gave me a promotion and reassigned me to Fleet Ops as a ‘reward for my service’. Really, they meant to keep me quiet about the whole thing.”

“But, everyone is always underestimating Chiropterans.” Raiselle continued, the smirk returning. “It took me years of nibbling around the edges, inserting the right code in the right place, unraveling the right piece of encryption here and there, to figure out what they were trying to hide. Finally, while we were parked in the Colyon system, I took advantage of the black marketeer’s, shall we say... less than legal, computer resources to smash the last barriers and get a really good look at what they were up to.” At that, the bat officer’s expression darkened with barely suppressed anger. “I almost wish I didn’t know. That ‘secret department’ I was part of; it is just one small piece of an organization that, if I am right, has been systematically betraying the Alliance since before the war. I have no idea what their end game is, or why they are doing it all, but because of them, many, many of our people have died.” Pausing as if to consider his next words, the bat’s expression almost became a snarl, his thin body tensing.

“I don’t know what I expect you to do; this thing is bigger than us, its bigger than anyone. But whatever they are trying to do, it isn’t to the benefit of anyone except them, and they have to be stopped. This packet contains the only copy of everything I have found out; everything they don’t want anyone to know.” Raising a hand as if forestalling the coyote’s objections, the bat continued. “I know what you are thinking; if a group like this has hidden for so long, they must have taken precautions against being found out. Don’t worry, there is no way they can trace it, not to me and not to you. I used so many relays and connection forwardings that they will be chasing their tails for months before they trace the access back to people who never actually existed.” That revelation made the coyote raise his eyebrows. That particular trick was supposed to be impossible to pull off, what with all the security programs that monitored the standard hypercom system, to say nothing of military networks. Being able to set up that kind of system was the realm of fiction novelists and conspiracy theorists, not reality, making his estimation of the fallen officer go way up. “All the same Colonel, be careful. Do yourself a favor and don’t access anything while logged into a hypercom connection. Good luck, Colonel, I hope you can end this.” With that, the message ended and Tyr sat back in his chair, dumbfounded.

He had known, of course, that much of the irascible bat’s service record had been classified way above his head, but he had never expected anything like this. Unless the galaxy really was far more seriously screwed up than he thought, the bat had to have been part of the Conclave’s operations, probably even an integral part. And, if he really had done what he said he had, then it meant that, working all alone, he had accomplished what Tyr, Katy and Larn, as well as their Terran co-conspirators, had been trying to do for months.

Rousing himself from his amazed contemplation of the possibilities, the coyote debated for a moment. It was incredibly tempting to start going through the files right then and there, but then again, it had been a very long day already, and his comfortable gel cot beckoned... Then, finally, he shook his head and engaged the security protocols that severed his terminal from the ship’s network, and thus its hypercom system. He wouldn’t be able to rest without at least taking a look. Reaching out and tapping one of the waiting files at random with his fingertip, Tyr waited for it to bring up the contents. It took the coyote all of about thirty seconds to realize just what he was looking at, but when he did, he felt his jaw drop open.

Not even the jarring lurch of the ship leaving normal space was able to stir him from his surprise this time. The file he had chosen was a list that matched the list of codenamed Conclave operations that Katy had gotten a hold of in the first real encounter any of them had had with the shadowy organization, but, to his surprise, he saw that there were even more listed than they had found, and most had sub-files linked to them, clearly containing details of what the operations had consisted of. Finally shaking himself out of his shock, he reached for his comlink, all exhaustion forgotten. But, before he thumbed the activation switch, he caught himself and chuckled, reaching out and closing the file, telling the computer to transfer the files to an offline storage cube, encrypting them as it went. One word of this over an open comlink, even to those he trusted, would completely undo all of the effort that had been put into securing this data in the first place.

‘No,’ He reflected as he disconnected the cube from the terminal, reaching into a drawer for the small data cube containing the data scrubbing virus he used as a matter of course, ‘Raiselle had had it right’. This was too important not to be careful...

***

12-4-3015

Time Index; 0543 hours GST

TFV Zephyr

Asgard system, Terran space

For the first time in a month, it wasn’t the sound of my alarm clock or the chirp of my comlink that brought me out of sleep and back into the waking world. This time, it was a dream, a dream that made me smile when I opened my eyes, staring up at the still dark ceiling of my quarters. It had begun with a pair of eyes, not human in shape, but instantly familiar. The irises were the most beautiful shade of green, eyes that I instantly recognized as belonging to my Merxian mate. As I had looked into their entrancing emerald depths, the view had seemed to draw backward, or maybe the details around the eyes had filled themselves in to my mind, bringing the whole of Katy’s red-furred face into view, her dazzling vulpine smile making me feel so warm inside that it was almost like someone had replaced my heart with a miniature sun that blazed away brilliantly behind my ribs.

And then, even more details had filled themselves in, revealing that my mate and I were walking together on a familiar road, hand in hand, the radiant tropical sunlight shining down upon us. We had both been clad in comfortable civilian clothes instead of the armor and flight suits of our current stations, and most wonderful of all to my mind, my lover’s emerald eyes were light and free, the cares and horrors of the war that had weighed both of us down since the day we had met long gone. In their place, there was only a warm, unmitigated joy and peace shining from within them.

In the dream, our walk had taken us over a low, gently sloping hill and the distant buildings of a town had come into view, sparkling like jewels beside the crystal clear water of the coast, the distinct, deep red sand of the beach glimmering in sharp contrast to the blue water, the surf taking on a deep violet hue where they met. We had started on down towards the town, in no great hurry to get there, enjoying the day and each other’s company most of all. Then, as dreams so often did, the scene seemed to change suddenly, the dreamscape flooding through numerous odd images, none connected to the ones before it, before finally settling on the image of the dancing clouds of interstellar dust that made up the Star Angel’s Nebula. Then, with the swirling bands of color dancing behind my eyes, I had woken up.

Giving a slight sigh, I turned my mind back, playing the first images through my mind once more, the darkness and near silence of my bedroom comfortable enough for me to indulge the fantasy that I was not in fact aboard a warship at all, but rather in bed back on Arc, just before dawn, only the presence of my mate in my arms needed to finish the illusion in my mind. Putting my hands behind my head, I idly sorted through the dream, feeling a sensation of definite wistfulness come over me as I clung to the illusion.

As pleasant as it was, and as much as I longed for the dream, it was of course, only that, a dream. It was a weird dream too. I knew where the place in my dream had been of course; I would have known it by the color of the sands alone. There was only one place in the known universe where the beach was that particular color of red, only one where the surf was almost purple from the red sand swirling in the blue water. The red sand beaches of Corusca, a large volcanic island near the equator of Arc, were known throughout the Federation, and even on far away worlds in the Alliance, as my mate had told me while we had reminisced about our childhoods. The sand of the island was the result of the peculiar volcanic activity that had formed the Corusca island chain, resulting in an extraordinarily high composition of red Archen jade in the soil, the same stone our necklaces were made of, intermixed with the usual pumice, both ground down into gritty, almost crimson, sand by the roll and pound of the waves.

Corusca Island had been both the summer home of my family in my childhood, and Katy’s birthplace, so we both knew it well. That road we had been walking on, and the place where the small rise hid the glimmering architecture of Orellus, the capital of the island province, was one I had walked often enough with my siblings, and, since it was the main thoroughfare from the outlying properties and the town, it was likely enough that Katy had wandered it as well, at least once. But, though we had probably been within a few kilometers of each other as children, and perhaps much closer, we had never met on Arc.

And of course, there was the fact that Orellus, not to mention the whole of the rest of the colony, was nothing more than scorched ruins now, the city more than likely wholly overwhelmed by the rainforest that had surrounded it. Even more sadly, with the pair of us on opposite sides of the most brutal conflict in centuries, it was more than likely that the colony would never be rebuilt, at least, not while we were alive to see it. Still though, I had to admit, I longed for that happy image more than anything I had ever imagined, wanting it so much I ached inside. Just to be with the woman I loved, on our homeworld once more; no war, no countries bitterly divided by violence, for it just to be us, without anything to tear us apart.

Letting my smile spread a little wider, I filed the images away in my memory; there was always the hope of it coming true, as distant and far-fetched as the possibility might be. But, even as I put the dream away, I found my mind dwelling instead on the image of the nebula, its shifting colors dancing across my memory, tantalizing some deep part of my subconscious. But why? As beautiful as the astral phenomenon had always been to me, lighting the night sky of my home with brilliant color every clear night, it was just a curiosity, nothing truly important or remarkable. I had seen half a dozen nebulas in my career, some of them far more spectacular; I had even fought an entire campaign as a fighter pilot inside one, back when I was a Major. Shrugging my shoulders at the odd thought, I finally rolled over, rising from my bed and turning off my alarm before it could go off as I headed for the bathroom.

When I was standing in the swirling mists of the vapor shower, yawning and trying to get my brain in gear, the weird tingling sensation of the cleansing gases spreading across my skin, I let my mind drift, not surprised when it settled on the image of the password prompt, trying to puzzle out once again why it looked so tantalizingly familiar to me. And then, for the briefest of instants, when my still half-dreaming mind was almost in a doze, the swirling chemical vapors made the image of the nebula pop into my head at the same time as the prompt. And at once, it felt like a lightning bolt had just shot through my brain, sending me fully awake at once. My mind reeling, I slumped back against the wall of the shower stall for a moment, trying to calm my suddenly racing heart, then opened the door, cutting the shower cycle short. Heading quickly for the closet, I hurried to dress in the comfortable flight suit I usually wore, fumbling at my beside table for my comlink. Thumbing the channel selector function, I spoke.

“Preset 6, go secure.” The device chirped its understanding of my order, selecting the desired frequency after a moment, a faint static pop telling me the encryption routine had kicked in. Normally, all comlinks automatically connected to the nearest communications network hub they could access, typically the one tied into the ship’s computer core, the central computer relaying communications to each device as smoothly as if you were face to face with the person or group you were trying to reach. But, each comlink also had a number of other ‘channels’ it could access, broadcasting a message to anyone linked to the same channel within the link’s limited range. Most of the time, people stayed off of these channels, since, with the sheer density of material packed into a ship, and the magnitude of the electronics constantly active aboard, the ambient interference tended to reduce the reliability of such technology far past the point where most considered it worth it. But, using link channels as opposed to centralized communications did have one significant advantage; the channels couldn’t be monitored, especially if you used software encryption.

“This is Knight.” I said, wincing at the clock, which indicated it was barely 0600, when most of my comrades were only just waking up. “I need everyone in the flag lounge ASAP.” Pausing only to lace up my combat boots, I headed out the door, my mind making a dozen connections I hadn’t considered, as if the brief image I had seen had opened the floodgates of my imagination and a supremely predatory grin spread across my lips. Walking through the doors of the lounge a few minutes later, I found Angel already seated at one of the tables, the partly mechanical man dressed immaculately, looking wide awake, making me wonder suddenly if he ever actually slept, or if his cybernetics somehow supplied all the energy he needed.

We exchanged nods and I started to take a seat, then thought better of it and started pacing back and forth instead, unable to sit still, my mind was racing so fast. When the door opened once more, revealing a yawning Pride, I paused a moment, a brief note of amusement passing through my mind. The Celdanian officer looked very tired and disheveled, fussing with the zipper of his fatigue jacket, a garment he had clearly donned in a hurry. So much so, in fact, that he hadn’t even noticed that the smart camo system incorporated into the fibers had turned itself on and was currently doing its level best to camouflage him against the background of the Flag Lounge’s lavish furnishings, taking on a mottled dark blue, light grey and for some reason, light green, pattern that looked garish, especially paired with his fiery red hair. A few moments later, Captain Cornell walked in, looking awake and coherent, Dillinger following on his heels, looking anything but.

“I’m sorry to have called you all here this early,” I began as soon as the security programs went active, “But this couldn’t wait. Angel, can you copy the image of the password prompt and display it on the projector? I need something I can play with.” When the cyborg nodded, connecting to the table and entering commands into the interface, I continued talking. “I think I have it figured out.”

“Well, I hope so, Knight.” Pride said through another deep yawn, finally noticing his absurd camo scheme and deactivating the system from the control on the left cuff. “I can’t think without my morning coffee.”

“Someone say coffee?” Dillinger asked, straightening up suddenly from the place against the wall where he had been settling into a doze while still on his feet. “I only dropped off a couple hours ago.” Disappointed at the obvious lack of the steaming drink, he sighed and rubbed his eyes, focusing finally on the display when the projection popped up. “Alright sir, what are we looking at?”

Holding up a hand for him to wait, I looked at the projection, orienting myself until what I had seen for that brief instant in my mind’s eye lined up once more and I grinned. Reaching out into the projection, I grabbed the image and drew my hands apart, making it larger and larger until it almost filled the room. Then, walking into its center, I mimed grabbing a stylus with my right hand, the computer taking its cue, and I touched the spot where the tip would have been to one of the floating dots. Drawing a red line between it and several of the dots around it, I made a shape, then moved on, connecting the dots in clusters and lines and all of the other officers looked at me curiously. When I was done, the dots were arranged into thirteen shapes and I gestured with my left hand at them.

“I knew I had seen this somewhere before.” I said, grinning. The other conspirators looked at me uncomprehendingly for a minute, Pride looking like he was a hair’s breadth away from an tired, angry outburst. “Can’t see it? Computer, incorporate the changes into the image, and flatten it into two dimensions, using where I am standing as the reference point. Increase the contrast between the points and the background.” The image distorted strangely for a moment as the computer did as I asked, flattening the image, and then wrapping it around me like a cape, darkening the background perceptibly. When it stopped moving, I drew a line with my left hand, waving the two sides of it apart and the image instantly flattened out between us, angling itself upward towards the ceiling. I paused then, letting them look at it. Oddly, it was Dillinger who figured it out first, cocking his head as he looked at it.

“Constellations?” he asked, his sleepiness fading and I nodded emphatically.

“Specifically, those seen from the northern hemisphere of Arc, my homeworld.” I confirmed, and the other officers looked at it again.

“I don’t know, General.” Pride said, looking at the image dubiously. “I mean, it looks like it fits, but so would a lot of other things.”

“No, I think he is on to something.” Angel said after a moment, his expression contemplative, the same look anyone got when they were close to a revelation. “Computer, connect to the Federation Astrological database.” While he waited for the computer to make the connection through the Zephyr’s hypercom array, the cyborg continued speaking. “If the General is right, then its brilliant. One of the ancient things that people tried instead of passwords that can be hacked, was to hide the access code in images. It fell out of favor when holographics came into their own, but the principle is sound.” When the cyborg’s artificial eye flashed, indicating a connection had been established, he continued, speaking to the computer. “Match the image displayed to the constellation map of the Archen colony, northern hemisphere.” The computer worked for a moment, then a second, ghostly image of the night’s sky appeared, overlaying itself over the image, the constellation patterns picked out in detail on it.

“Well,” Cornell said, raising his eyebrows, “That seems pretty definitive to me.”

“I stand corrected.” Pride stated, surprised, for the image was a perfect match.

“I would have to agree.” Angel said, still looking contemplative, though excited. “Although...while this is certainly a major clue, it isn’t the whole picture, so to speak.” At my adjutant’s curious look, the cyborg continued. “Well, if they are using the same pictographic password idea as they did a millennia ago, then this isn’t all we need. The old system required that people touch parts of the picture in a certain pattern, in a certain order. Just having the picture is a place to start, but its only one step. And since we only have one shot to get it right, working from pure guesswork isn’t going to help.”

“He does have a point.” Cornell replied, looking at the display with a thoughtful expression. “Well, at any rate, there is little more we can do right this second. I suggest we all start thinking of possibilities and go back to our duties.”

“Well, I promise I will give it my full attention,” Dillinger began, a grin coming to his face. “After breakfast.”

***

12-4-3015

Time Index; 1150 hours GST

MAS Yunius

Enroute to Octan system, Merxian space

Most of the time, the Flag bridge of the fighter carrier was completely unoccupied; as a matter of fact, since its purpose was to direct the movements of an entire engagement and the Yunius lacked even the usual escort and scout ships that accompanied it into battle while this deep inside Merxian territory, the room was usually unpowered beyond the basic life support systems that all compartments utilized. But, the very fact that it usually wasn’t used, coupled with the frankly ridiculous amount of security measures it incorporated merely because of its import function, the flag bridge made a convenient place for Katy and her comrades to work on getting through the mountain of files they now had on the Conclave.

At the moment, the vixen general sat looking at the holographic display above the work station she sat at, scanning the documents displayed there with interest. Two pages were displayed side by side in front of her; one was part of the data Tyr had grabbed from the Black Claw’s computer core, the other was from the files left behind from the commander of Tyr’s former ship. The Black Claw file had been an inventory of some kind, but it had been written in a second encrypted format, meaning it was basically worthless without the key. But the other file was a list of codes used by the Conclave, and the various mercenary groups apparently on their payroll. Reaching out and touching a line of alpha-numeric characters next to the words ‘Black Claw Securities’, Katy told the computer to analyze the first file using it as a code cipher. While the computer worked, she leaned back in her chair and looked in the direction of the two other occupants of the room.

Tyr sat at a work station nearby, scanning another document and muttering softly to himself, the coyote’s eyes looking tired, but focused. The huge black wolf occupying the work station opposite him on the other hand, looked eager and active, scanning documents quickly. Then, as she watched, Larn leaned towards his display, cocking his head, bringing up several more documents and highlighting lines in several of them at once. Then, before she could ask what he had found, Tyr let out a frustrated growl and sat back. Looking at him curiously, she finally broke the silence.

“What, Tyr?” She asked and he shook his head, looking irritated.

“I think that bat was so paranoid that he saw connections to things that had nothing to do with the Conclave.” He replied, flicking his fingers towards the display at the center of the room. At once, it went active, the file he had been working on appearing above it. “I mean, look at this. Astrological archive data, explorer star charts... even tourist maps of cruises through Terran space. None of it has anything to do with anything, but from the amount of work he put into it, you would think it was the most important thing in the world.” Getting up from her chair, Katy walked over to the edge of the display, looking at the images that were displayed in the file. Tyr did have a point, in that they didn’t seem to have anything to do with the Conclave, in fact, they didn’t seem to have anything in common, at first glance anyway, though there was some overlap between the various maps, as if the chiropteran had been trying to fit something together, obviously without success, judging from the digital notes that were scrawled all over the files, but she did notice that the images were all numbered, although the numbers didn’t seem to correspond to anything in particular.

“Huh.” Larn said from where he was sitting, and the two officers looked at him in surprise, finding him sitting back, looking up at his display with a puzzled expression. “That is really weird.”

“Care to share, Larn?” Tyr asked and the wolf, shrugged.

“Well, it might be nothing more than a coincidence, but,” He said, flicking the files of his display toward the central projector, bringing up seven files that looked like shipping manifests, the computer all quickly scrolling to the same highlighted word, a word that made Katy’s eye brows shoot up towards the ceiling. “These first four files are from a data cluster that looks old, and I mean like, decades old. But these other three are from much more recent files, the most recent being from a few months ago.”

“What in the hell...” Katy asked rhetorically. Though all four of the items on the old lists came from different companies in Merxian space, all of them had the same end destination. Arc, her homeworld. “Six high end medical scanners, a hundred liters of biostatic gel suspensions… two nanomolecular bio-manufacturing suites… mammalian biodevelopment catalysts? Looks like everything you would need for a major medical research lab.”

“Yeah, but look who did the ordering. Long Stellar Transport... Sure doesn’t sound like a research company to me.” Tyr said, sounding just as puzzled as she was. The three items in the later files were all ordered by that company as well, and were of similar manufacture, but the end points were scattered all over known space.

“Why is that company name familiar?” Larn asked, cocking his head from where he was sitting.

“Wasn’t it in the news recently?” Katy asked, the name ringing a distant bell in her mind as well. After a moment or two, Larn typed a request into the database and nodded.

“You are right General. LST is a major merchant shipping group that has been assisting with all the refugee efforts in Terran space.” Larn confirmed, nodding slowly. “The Alliance Assembly just granted their ships permission to enter occupied worlds to supply refugee aid to occupied planets, provided they agree to submit to search on the way in and out. But why would the Conclave even care that a shipping company got a hold of this stuff? Hell, for all we know, LST is run by the Conclave and they ordered it.”

“Why would they do that?” Katy continued, looking at the supply lists while her mind puzzled over the company name. She remembered the news report of course, most people did. Allowing a Terran company to provide aid to civilian populations of conquered planets was unprecedented, but it had solved a problem that the government had been wrestling with since the first Terran Colony had been taken. It seemed that in all the preparations and planning for the invasions, nobody had given any thought to what happened afterward, especially to the civilians in captured territory. Most officers who understood strategy had thought the Assembly’s decision to be ingenuous; basically, it made the Federation pay for part of the upkeep for the captured populations, taking the burden of supplying and feeding the millions of non-producing Terrans in occupied territory off of the Merxian economy.

“Wait a minute…” Tyr said, pointing to the list of supplies with one finger. “I know what these things are used for.” Both of the other officers looked at him in surprise as he accessed the database once more, scrolling through a long list of what looked like standing orders and memorandums.

“I didn’t know you were familiar with medical science, sir.” Larn rumbled from his seat, and the coyote shook his head, tapping one entry with a finger, his eyes going wide when he read it.

“I’m not. Well, nothing beyond the basics anyway.” Tyr said, flicking the document he was reading towards the central display. “But this was an order from high command that was sent out to all front line battalion commanders about a year ago, telling us to keep an eye out for specific combinations of equipment in Terran installations. All four of those items were a first priority notification because they are everything that you need to set up a biowarfare laboratory.”

“Is that all that they can be used for?” Katy asked her friend, a peculiar chill running down her spine, making her hackles stand on end.

“I have no idea, but considering what we just went through on Sython, I wouldn’t imagine that they would be doing much else with it.” Tyr replied, his ears twitching as the General’s console beeped, indicating it had completed her request. Moving to the display and rotating it so it faced the center where she stood, the vixen scanned the data and shook her head.

“This is all getting a little too coincidental for my tastes. Looks like the Black Claws were waiting on a shipment of supplies, but everything listed is manufactured only in Terran space.” Highlighting the last few words in the line she was looking at, she gave a slight chuckle. “And it looks like a rendezvous was set in an unoccupied border system with a freighter operated by Long Stellar Transport.”

“Hmmm...” Larn hummed, typing a request into the interface of his work station. Then he sat back, stroking his chin while he considered. “Lets see... Long Stellar Transport. Founded on Terra four centuries ago... privately owned and operated since its founding by a single family... operates the second largest independently owned merchant fleet in the Federation...” Then the wolf’s eyes lit up and he continued, speaking very deliberately. “Listen to this; following the founding of the colony, the corporate headquarters was relocated to the planet of Arc.”

“Arc again...” Katy said, narrowing her eyes and thinking back. Turning back to the main display, she pushed the other files away and brought up the stellar maps that Tyr had been looking at once more. Scanning through the images, something hit her, like stumbling across a corner piece in a children’s puzzle. Immediately, she began to reorient the images, arranging them so that they formed a circle, her movements becoming faster as she got more and more certain.

“What are you doing?” Tyr asked, trying to follow her work.

“I know the area of space that he was looking at, and in all of these images, there is only one star missing from the maps.” She said, putting the finishing touches on the image collection, “Its Noid, the star system where the Archen colony was. And that means...” When she finished overlapping the images, suddenly the random notes added to the files made sense. “These fragments of star data are all stars that are visible from the planet, and, if I am right... Yeah, there it is.” She pointed at the image she had constructed and Tyr looked at her, bewildered, clearly not seeing what she meant. “The numbers Raiselle added to the files mark the order that the clusters appear in a standard Archen year. Though why that could possibly be important I can’t imagine.” For a moment, the trio sat still, then Larn finally spoke up again, looking at the holo-display at his station.

“Well, it might not make sense to us, but it might make sense to our friends.” He commented, then blinked in surprise, the computer finishing running the search he had requested. “Whoa.”

“What?” Tyr asked.

“I asked the computer to search all of the files we have for mentions of LST.” The wolf replied, then pointed to his display. “It is mentioned almost a thousand times.”

“If that is true then they have to be deeply involved.” Tyr said, “And Arc has shown up a few times too many in our research. There is bound to be something there. But its not as if we can just waltz in. Last I heard from the grapevine, the invasion is not going well.”

“No, it isn’t.” Katy agreed, then a sly smile came to her lips. “Fortunately, we don’t have to be the ones to go.” At her comment, an identical smile came to the lips of the two canines as they understood just what she meant...