Sadly, I don't think that could have gone any better for them...
That's actually kind of good to hear... given the subject matter, I didn't want to make the main character too overpowered. The reality meter in this story is set to "grim" rather than "comic book", so he gets a couple of lucky breaks but he screws up, too.
Let's see if we can wrap this one up. It's been sitting on my hard drive for long enough...
***
Not This Time
Kentares IV
Occupied Federated Suns
January 2797There was a small park in the center of the ComStar compound. A little square of green amid the pristine white buildings. A couple of broad-limbed trees provided shade, and iridescent fish glittered in a small pond. Nolan Mordiki sat on a bench, watching the fish swim in lazy circles, feeling as trapped and useless as they were.
A shadow crossed the sun. Mordiki looked up to find Ishihara standing by the bench.
“The recon team has returned, Administrator,” he said.
“And?”
The corners of Ishihara’s mouth turned down slightly. “Their findings are ... inconclusive. As we suspected, the city is completely abandoned. The countryside in the immediate vicinity of the city as well. There are no signs of work camps or other forms of internment.”
“Well, the people all went somewhere. Deported to another continent? Off-planet?”
Ishihara opened his mouth and, for the first time in all the years since Mordiki had met him, hesitated.
“What?”
“There are more ... unpalatable possibilities, Administrator, given that this was triggered by the death of the Coordinator. Such as ... reprisals.”
Mordiki frowned for a moment, then made the connection. Realization hit like a punch to the gut, taking his breath away. “All of them?”
“I speak only of possibilities, Administrator.”
“Unimaginable ones. There were almost 500,000 people in this city.”
“We lack definitive proof. But circumstantial evidence certainly points to a systematic and total ... depopulation of the Amishton area.”
“Unity.”
“What will you do, if I may ask, Administrator?”
Mordiki scratched his head in thought. “Inform Terra, I suppose,” he said. “Inform the Prime Administrator.”
“Inform Terra.”
“Yes. Inform Terra. Well. What? What else do you want me to do?”
And that was when they heard two distinct shots. The high-pitched shriek of incoming gyrojet rounds, then the crackle of their explosions. Without hesitation, Ishihara sprinted for the security command center, Mordiki trailing behind. They crashed through the building doors, dashed down a corridor, managed to make it to the entrance to the center when the volcano erupted.
Well, what felt like a volcano. There was a deafening explosion. The building shook. Ishihara was calmly ordering panicked men and women to find out what was going on. And meeting only a confused babble. A wall of video screens showed chaos. Cameras panned, searching, trying to focus on something, anything. The comm techs all spoke at once. Stories of gunshots. Of the BattleMech plowing straight into, then through a building, firing at something or someone. Then a mountain of fire and a blanket of dense black smoke, spreading into the sky from the river district.
“Someone else trying to reach us?” suggested Mordiki.
Ishihara nodded, then spoke to a comms officer: “Get the gates open. I want two squads on standby. Stunners and pulse laser rifles.”
“Yes sir I—wait. Sir. There’s someone out there.”
The comm tech pointed to one of the screens. There, at the edge of the plaza outside the compound, a lone woman was calmly walking towards the Combine wall and its gate.
“Ishihara,” Mordiki said quietly, “whatever happens, whatever you have to do, that woman gets in here.”
“Agreed, Administrator,” Ishihara nodded. “I’ll see to it personally.”
Ishihara strode purposefully from the room. Mordiki stared at the screens. The woman kept walking. The two soldiers left at the gate hadn’t noticed her yet. But they would, soon. She was still walking. The same determination and purpose Ishihara had, just now, when he left. She looked thin, frail. But the way she moved. Like a juggernaut.
One of the soldiers spotted her. Hesitated, tapped his fellow on the arm and pointed. They cautiously raised their weapons. On another screen, Mordiki saw Ishihara had arrived at the ComStar gate, now thrown open. Ishihara was shouting something at the two men.
The two men lowered their weapons. It was one thing to do wrong, to hurt or to kill when all around you were killing. It was something quite different when you knew you were being watched, by people who did not approve, who reminded you of what you’d once been, before you caught the killing sickness. You could pretend it was normal when nobody said anything. You couldn’t when there was somebody else standing there, like an angel on your shoulder, reminding you it wasn’t, it wasn’t normal, it was nothing, nowhere near normal.
The woman was only a dozen meters away from the two soldiers. One man turned, yelled something at Ishihara. Raised his weapon again.
“No,” whispered Mordiki. “Oh please, no.”
Ishihara was drawing his stunner. Too late, too late.
They’d gone too far, seen too much, done too much, these two DCMS solders. To admit that what they had done was wrong might shatter them. Their need to maintain that sense of self, that sense they were not bad people, not wrong or evil, finally won out over the knowledge and shame of what they were about to do.
Mordiki closed his eyes. He heard gunshots. His shoulders sagged. He felt like crying. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes.
The woman stood. A smoking pistol in her hands. The two soldiers lay on the ground. Ishihara was at her side, taking her arm, rushing her inside. The compound gate swung shut behind them.
Alive.
She was alive.
They took her to a waiting room. Wrapped her in a blanket. A warm drink. Technicians and aides hovered about her in worried flocks. She barely acknowledged them, seemingly disbelieving, sure she was dreaming. She held a steaming mug in both hands, brought it up to her lips and sipped, almost robotic, unseeing.
So far, all they’d gotten was her name: Faith.
Mordiki sat across from her. Waited patiently for her to register his presence. He nodded as her eyes met his. “My name is Nolan Mordiki, Administrator of this facility. You are safe here, ma’am. Faith. I promise you. You don’t know how happy I am to see you. Please. Tell me. Where is everyone?”
Faith stared at him, seconds ticking by, and Mordiki began to fear she’d gone mad. Whatever the Combine had done had driven the people insane. He was about to try again, when she spoke. A hollow voice, devoid of any feeling. “They’re dead,” she said, simply. “They killed them. The snakes. The Dracs. They killed everybody.”
Mordiki nodded, shaken. “The whole city?”
“City?” The sound she made was half laugh, half sob. She was shaking her head. “No, not the whole city.” She stopped shaking, put down her mug.
“The whole planet.”
“The whole—wha, ah, what?” Mordiki could hear Ishihara softly swearing under his breath.
“They killed everyone, everywhere.”
“There are fifty-nine million people on this planet—”
“They’re dead. The snakes rounded us up, shot or burned or beheaded everyone.” Faith held up a small, square storage data disc. “Here’s the proof.”
Mordiki leaned forward, took it carefully from her hands. “What’s on this?”
Faith shrugged. “I don’t know. One of their soldiers gave it to us.”
“Us?”
“There’s someone else.”
“Who?”
“The man who brought me here. You should talk to him.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s one of them. One of the Dracs.”
Mordiki nodded. The data, if indeed there was data on this disc and it wasn’t this poor woman’s fevered imagination, the data would be the foundation and key to exposing what had happened here on Kentares. Putting a face to the story would have more impact, though. The woman’s word alone might be doubted—she was a citizen of the Federated Suns, she might say anything to discredit the Combine—but the word of a DCMS soldier would be harder to refute. “Okay. Where is he? Where can we find him?”
“He ... he was the one who drew the guards away.” Her eyes burned with sudden intensity. “He might still be alive. He has to be. I know he is. He might have escaped or ... or they might have him. The Dracs. They might have him. You’ve got to help him. Can you?”
Mordiki sat back in his seat and blew a long breath. Search across the entire planet for one single human being, under the nose of the entire DCMS. Or worse yet, break into a DCMS prison and rescue a prisoner. That was an awful risk to take. Scouting a city was one thing. This potentially put ComStar at war with the Combine. How to explain that? The man’s testimony would be invaluable ... but the risk. The risk was simply too great.
Ishihara stepped forward before Mordiki could speak. “Yes we absolutely can, ma’am.” He put a hand to his heart. “You’ve got my word on that. We’ll find him for you.”
“Captain Ishihara—” Mordiki began.
Ishihara turned towards the Administrator with glacial slowness. “Yes. Administrator?”
“I, er, I, ah.” Mordiki swallowed. He felt the eyes of both Ishihara and the woman on him. It was easy to do wrong, when everyone around you was, too—and much harder once one, even just one person spoke up. “I want you to put your best men on this.”
Ishihara waited a beat before replying. “Of course, Administrator.” He turned back to Faith. “You get some rest, ma’am. We’re going to need a statement on video. I realize this will be ... difficult for you. Anything we can do to make you more comfortable, just let us know.”
Faith nodded, shakily. “Just bring him back.”
Ishihara nodded. “I realize you’ve been let down a lot by men in uniform recently, ma’am. But not this time. By God, not this time.”
