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[Preview]Renegade Ravager Vol. 3 -- Chapter 8
🕑 Added 2024-01-16 15:00:05 +0000 UTCChapter 8 – 01738.101 AA
It took another hour to find the logbooks. It turned out Lot B was a huge collection of boxes, all culled from some mothballed station in the Tigre Calme System.
“It says here they were found sealed in a forgotten storage area,” Victor read a note tapped to the side of one of the boxes. “It’s believed to contain the personal journals of Admiral Becket Copper, who oversaw operations in the region from 01553 AA to 01572 AA.”
“I remember Admiral Copper,” Josefine said. “A fine officer, he was from a family with a strong military tradition, like my own.”
There were hundreds of books and journals, everything from leatherbound diaries to legal pads and handwritten notes. The admiral’s handwriting was blocky and easily legible.
Carrying the boxes back to the sorting area, we quickly spread out the contents. There was no way we’d be able to read them all and narrow down the documents specific to our needs. Instead, I reached into my belt and pulled out a small container.
Opening it, I unleashed a swarm of miniaturized drones. The automatons buzzed to life and began scanning the documents, searching for key dates and terms, anything tied to the Tigre Calme Deux 39th Exploratory Force.
Victor began checking the nearby shelves as we waited for the drones. He had always had an interest in books, particularly those frowned upon by our officers for their salacious or corrupting content.
“Good literature is lost on fools,” was his typical excuse when he got caught and punished.
While he did that, I huddled with Xarl, going over the data Aggy had retrieved from Valeur Mineure’s network.
Her hack was laborious and slow since the moon’s hardware was woefully out of date and its software barely functional.
“I’ve been able to map out the facility,” Aggry told us as the image appeared in our HUD.
Valeur Mineure was honeycombed with thousands of chambers and passages. As the officer had mentioned, they spread out from the original bore shaft, which wasn’t far from our location.
We were only a few levels above the central reactor. The older chambers had been relegated to low-priority storage. Above us ranged the processing halls, editing suites, and studios where a majority of the military intelligence’s work was done.
“It appears the old borehole was converted into part of the air recycling system,” Xarl said. “If we can get access to that, we can reach the levels below, including the central reactor.”
“Getting there will be the hard part, I’m sure,” Iuno interrupted. “I can’t image they’ll let people waltz in, even if they’re in power armor.”
“I believe the moon’s defenders will be occupied with larger concerns,” Aggy said. “I’ve rerouted all available pirate ships for a suicide strike against the system’s defenses. They won’t last long, but that will give Josefine time to land a contingent of Yord on Valeur Prime and Mineure.”
Iuno chuckled. “That’ll certainly twist their underwear into knots.”
“In that chaos, you’ll strike at the central reactor core,” the AI explained, battle plans suddenly filling our tacnet.
I closely inspected the data. The timetable was tight, but there were contingencies and backup plans built into her operation, just like our infiltration of the Diaspora Circus. Aggy truly was a master tactician with a brilliant and insidious mind.
Seeing the destruction and chaos we were about to inflict, I could only love her more.
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It took almost an hour for the drones to scan the logbooks and identify the ones that were pertinent to Josefine’s quest.
We ended up with a slim collection of books. The dates written indicated they came from several years after Josefine and her fleet had vanished. The handwriting in those volumes was shaky and far less legible than the earlier items, making me believe the Admiral had been under a great deal of stress at the time of writing.
Quickly reading a few entries at random, I found one that chilled me.
01571.351 AA
Those ghouls came again, ripping through our records and databases, deleting data. They won’t tell me what happened to my own damn ships or the fate of their crews, claiming it’s above my authorization. Bastards!
I skipped a few pages again.
01572.045 AA
I had to call in virtually every favor I had with Principe Divin, but I at least got some answers. The ghouls are from military intelligence. They report directly to the Saints, some kind of shadowy cabal responsible for xeno research.
Section V.
I got to the end of the book and found the last few pages were empty. The diary I was holding was the last one the admiral had recorded. Going back, I found the last entry.
01572.124 AA
They found something – they found my crew – my ships, but they won’t tell me what happened to them! Damnit, they were my responsibility! I’ll press this to the highest tribunal, I’ll bring the full might of the navy down on their heads. I don’t care who Section V is, or what masters they hark to, but I will do right by my sailors!
“Section V?” I asked Balan in our private channel.
“I’m not familiar with them,” she rasped.
“It’s not much of a clue, but it’s more than I had before,” Josefine said tersely before her tone softened. “I know – that they’re likely dead, but I still need to know what happened to them. They were my crew, my friends, I owe them that much.”
She paused for a moment. Thank you – all of you.”
Quest Update! - Learn More About Section V
“We’ve got to stick together,” Iuno replied.
I was relieved for Josefine. Even with her anguish, she at least had a lead, on her quest – the fate of her lost crew. Dead or alive, I could completely sympathize with her need to know.
The revelation that the fate of Tigre Calme Deux 39th Exploratory Force was potentially involved with the Saints was a disturbing one; how were they tied to Josefine and her lost crew?
With a grunt, I shook off those thoughts. I could worry about them later, but for the moment I needed to focus on the quest at hand.
We collected the pertinent logbooks. I noticed that Victor had grabbed a few novels and books of his own from the nearby shelves.
“You can never have too much good reading material,” he said sagely when I pressed him about it.
“Brother, you carrying so many books that I’m pretty sure they can act as an extra layer of armor,” Xarl noted. “They could stop a bullet.”
“Just don’t let it slow you down,” I told Victor firmly.
Data for our updated quest flooded my HUD. Aggy hadn’t been able to fully compromise Valeur Mineure’s network, but she was sure information regarding her past or the Saints wouldn’t be found in their data centers. As Ramon had said, it was where the history was erased, not preserved.
“There should be a vent leading to the central borehole in an adjacent warehouse,” Aggy informed us. “From there, you’ll be able to reach the reactor. I can guide you on how to set it to overload. The resulting explosion should shatter the moon.”
I double-checked my gear. “What kind of defenses should we expect?”
“The intelligence services typically depend on automated defenses, especially in low-traffic areas. Expect turrets and combat drones,” Balan answered. “There might be human guards assigned to the area, but they won’t be able to stand in your way.”
“Try to avoid harming them if you can,” Josefine cut in. “I’ve made sure Aggy’s plan includes a chance for the staff to evacuate the moon before we destroy it.”
I felt that Josefine was being too soft-hearted about the staff of Valeur Mineure. They were, in part, responsible for the downfall of my legion, they actively worked to suppress the truth and erase the past. She insisted they were acting in good faith, in loyalty to the Martyred Goddess, that they deserved an opportunity to see the light.
Maybe she was right, maybe I was too bent on revenge. But, if anyone shot at me or my battle brothers or sister, I’d put them down.
I told her that.
“I understand.” She sighed through a private channel. “It’s hard – I’m wrestling my more inhuman instincts right now. The Yord in me just wants to rip them all apart, to devour them. But we need to rise above our anger, our outrage, otherwise we’re no better than mindless animals.”
Hurrying through the rest of the warehouse, we found another hatch. It clicked open as we approached; Aggy had grabbed a hold of part of the moon’s security system, but she couldn’t do anything about the automated defenses. They were completely isolated from the facility’s network, she couldn’t hack into them.
That was fine. I think we were all looking for something to hit at that point.
Aggy opened the warehouse next to hall 412-NDJ. It appeared to be identical to its neighbor, stacked full of rusting shelves and moldering boxes.
The papers and documents were truly ancient. I wondered how many forgotten secrets were sitting around us. But we’d never have time to search every shelf and lot; it was a task for a lifetime.
Even if every secret answer Aggy needed was right next to us, we’d never know it. But the AI had already set her course. Valeur Mineure needed to burn.
We’d find the truth elsewhere. I had faith that the Republic hadn’t completely erased it – we would find the answers Aggy sought.
Following our HUD, we found the air vent. It wasn’t large enough for us to fit through, even if we stripped out of armor. Instead, Iuno, Xarl, and I cleared the area, shoving away the shelves, while Victor set up a breacher grenade.
“Fire in the hole!” he warned us.
Our HUDs blanked out the blast, protecting us from the blinding plasma flash as the vent and a good chunk of the wall were vaporized. I kept an eye on the data Aggy was feeding us, confirming the blast hadn’t triggered any of the facility’s alarms.
“We’re lucky, there isn’t much security in your area,” she said. “I’m working on taking over the remaining internal sensors and blinding their detection systems.”
“Can’t you just hack the reactor’s controls and set it to blow?” Iuno asked.
“I could, but there are too many safety measures and emergency shutdown options built into the machinery,” the AI answered.
“Right, doing this the old-fashioned way,” Xarl pushed through the hole in the wall.
We followed after him.
The vent connected to a huge shaft that bored straight through the moon. The sides of the shaft were layered were strata, cutting clear through the moon’s crust and mantel. Fans spun above and below us, creating a powerful current of air that surged upward.
We crowded a narrow service platform at the edge of the pit. Fan blades cleaved through the air just a few meters below. Our armor could probably withstand a few errant strikes, but a dozen more fans were waiting below.
“Can you shut down the fans?” I called.
“I can, but that’ll trigger alarm systems I haven’t been able to compromise yet,” Aggy said.
“Plus someone would likely notice when the airflow stops and they start asphyxiating.” Iuno laughed.
“There should be a service ladder along the side of the shaft,” the AI informed us.
My tacnet picked out the ladder along the far side of the shaft. We’d have to use our jump jets to cross over.
“If Gregor was here, he’d make some kind of joke about having us roll for a flying check, a leaping save, or something stupid,” Iuno said.
I suddenly felt his absence like a hammer blow; my chest felt hollow.
Shaking my head, I plotted a path and fired up my jump jets. Leaping off the platform, I sailed across the room. The air current buffeted me, but I trusted my cybernetics to make the adjustments necessary to keep me on course.
My boots hit the edge of the platform around the ladder.
“You always make this shit look easy,” Iuno accused me.
I could only shrug.
My battle brothers and sister joined me on the other side of the shaft, copying my fight path. Climbing down the ladder was tough, we barely had enough clearance to squeeze through the opening, but we made it to the bottom of the shaft.
“Holy shit, is that a skeleton?” Iuno laughed as she pointed to a shredded pile of bones.
The bottom of the borehole was filled with litter and garbage, along with at least three dead bodies. Huge vents lined the walls, feeding recycled oxygen in from the surrounding machinery, kicking up the small pieces of trash in constant whirlwinds. The nose would have been deafening without our helmets.
“I guess nobody noticed that they were missing – or didn’t care,” Victor said as he knelt to check one of the corpses.
Using another breacher grenade, we blew a hole in the bottom of the shaft. Dirt and filth were kicked up into the air, flying up the shaft. Even if the facility's sensors and monitoring equipment had been compromised by Aggy, someone would likely notice that.
Hopefully, but by the time someone raised the alarm, they’d be too busy dealing with the other threats coming their way. Based on the operational timetable, the Yord would be making planetfall within the hour.
Comments
D'oh! I'll fix it -- thanks!
F0ZYWOLF
The nose would have been deafening without our helmets. Noise?
