Quarantine Lost

CHAPTER 1

Doogan

This isn't the beginning. I'm not even quite sure where the beginning is, my beginning anyway. But even if we don't go that far back, there were things before. I went somewhere. Things happened. Traumatic things. Things that would get me in trouble. Things I ought to have been worried about. Deep in hyper-sleep as I was, I should have been dreaming about how to avoid the Empire finding out I'd violated their quarantine, or having nightmares of the psychopathic race that abducted me and tried to melt my brain.

I wasn't. I was dreaming about a woman.

Her name was Katrina, and it had been there, in the place where the things happened, that we'd met. In the dream, she could change herself to appear as anyone. In dreams anything can happen, but in this case it was a little different. See, in the real world she can actually do that. On her planet, she's called an Illusionist and on her planet magic is real. Just her planet, though. I'm guessing it's a pretty big secret, which is why the Empire quarantined the place to begin with.

It's a long story how I came to go there and how I managed to survive it. But like I said, that was before and I want to talk about after. To give you context, Katrina and I were lovers. She'd used her magic to enhance the experience by making me feel things that were simply impossible in the real world. In that sense, it was not so different from the what you might find in illegal pleasure houses using neurostims, though far better. But what she hadn't done was change herself. The whole time, she wore her face, her curly locks of auburn hair, her devilish grin.

In the dream, she was barely herself at all. She started as Katrina, but shortly into it she began to change. Each time I tried to look on her, she was someone else. There were familiar faces and strange ones, old lovers, old friends, even old people that no one should ever dream about sexually. They were also brief, each new body and face lasting only a second or two, then shifting away into something else.

Finally she settled on a new face, a new body. And this one stuck. I recognized her immediately as Trisha, a lovely little thing I'd met before leaving Daubu station the last time. We hadn't become lovers, sadly. We hadn't even kissed. And I must have said or done something wrong because she blew me off right when I thought it was going somewhere. Leona, my assistant and then some, had taken to calling her My Latest Missed Opportunity.

The dream put me back in the bar all over again. Trisha was beautiful, exotic. She had eyes you could get lost in, a smile that took your breath away, and some really good other parts that took every ounce of my energy not to stare at. But forgetting all that, she was witty and sharp and worldly. Our conversation felt natural and fun, and I was sure, absolutely sure, that there was a connection there. To be honest, though, I get that a lot.

But in the dream she was on top of me, not running away. I studied her face, her dark hair cut short in a bob, the curve of her ear as it peaked through the fine strands, and yes, those parts I was carefully avoiding staring at in real life. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted. It seemed like her mind was in another world, as if I was doing to her what Katrina had done to me.

Suddenly, her head snapped forward, her eyes opened, and any pleasure she was feeling was replaced with fear. Before I could even react, she screamed...

I think it was the sound of the alarm that shattered the dream and dragged me to the door of consciousness. The mixture of shaking, the smell of oxystim, and the bright flashing yellow lights pushed me through. The ship was in yellow alert. I better get up, I thought. I had just decided to actually do that when the hibernation system decided I hadn't done it soon enough, and hit me with sixty volts.

I convulsed into a more upright position. Trisha's face still hung in space before me, like a negative imprinted on my eyes, but a few shakes of my head cast her back to a mere memory. The alarms were replaced with a burst of white noise that flooded the cockpit, then quickly subsided leaving nothing but the quiet sounds of the air filtration system.

Reality came together quickly. The air was close to pure oxystim by then, doing it's best to wake me out of hyper-sleep. I'd entered hyper-sleep to pass the time through my time-space transform back to Daubu station, but I wasn't there. That much was clear by the lack of a giant space station or the planet it orbited.

Leona was in the copilot chair beside me, wide awake, dressed in a simple dark flight suit with a high neck and long sleeves. Her hair was long today, pulled back in a tight pony tail. Her style said business and her face was calm, but her fingers flew over the control pad as if she were doing something complicated quickly. Of course her fingers weren't really touching anything, she's just a neural companion after all – a computer program with an avatar only I can see. Though serving no function, her actions spoke volumes. She was calm, but something required fast response.

Morning, doll. We came out of transform, she told me, her eyes still fixed ahead. "Just not where we were supposed to."

This was the second time in a row that I'd come out of transform in the wrong place. Last time it was because Leona was infected by a virus and reprogrammed my ship to go to a planet quarantined by the Empire. You know, that before stuff. I'd adjusted her access rights after that, just to be safe, but I was still suspicious.

Seriously? Again? I muttered.

Leona was quickly defensive. "This is different. It wasn't me, I swear. It's that ship," she said, pointing to the sensors display.

Another ship was near us, just inside two thousand meters. It was a derivative of a Battle Cruiser, but my sensors showed all the weapons systems had been stripped and it had no signs of life. My first impression was it was some kind of remote probe ship, but probes don't knock you out of transform.

"Shields are up, sir," Leona reminded me.

Is this one of those infamous trapper ships? I asked. I'd heard of those. They were Imperial ships that could block transforms. I'd never seen one and I had no idea how that could even work, but then again I didn't really understand time-space transforms, either. Other than how to use them that is. I'd actually considered myself lucky not to have run into a trapper yet, as I often work under the radar so to speak.

"Doubtful. That ship is a hack job. No self-respecting Admiral would deploy that."

Agreed, I replied. The ship's designation was the Anarchy 2615. That didn't seem like a name the Empire would use, either.

"It's definitely the source. It's creating a strange energy field and we're in it. It extends quite a ways further, maybe ten thousand? I'm guessing a bit."

It hailed me, You see the world through sensors the Empire made. Think about it.

Then my computer chimed: Incoming Data Transmission from Anarchy 2615.

"I just read about these in the news feeds. Ships bearing Anarchy with a numerical designation beaming information to ships. The Empire officially considers them terrorists."

My computer chimed it's acceptance and the data transfer started.

Did you authorize that? I asked Leona, tapping the cancel button repeatedly. It beeped at me and continued downloading.

"No!" Leona shouted. I couldn't have. And I can't stop it either. That ship has infiltrated our computer.

Well do something! Stop it!

What part of 'can't' didn't you get? You locked me out of damn near everything!

Nothing I tried was working either. The comm system wouldn't shut down, sensors wouldn't shut down, the computer wouldn't shut down. I'd queued up half a dozen different kill commands, each of which was in progress but making none.

Then a second ship appeared out of transform, a small-sized freighter designated the Lightning Slug. While small for a freighter, it was huge compared to the my ship.

I was still groggy from hyper-sleep, and I hated fighting groggy but I locked my weapons on the Anarchy ship anyway.

You making any progress over there? I asked Leona.

There's little I can do, so I'm mostly just looking busy. You could unlock me, but even then I doubt it would help. You'll have to pull the manual.

I think I'll just blow them up.

Sorry, cutie, you can't. The weapon locks won't disengage. Also, at this range we'd kill the freighter. They have no shields. The torpedo blast radius would be enough.

It's unarmed, I can just pick it apart with lasers.

"Doesn't solve the weapon lock problem."

I'll aim them manually, it's not like it's being evasive.

The Lightning Slug hailed us, You are a person over there right? This is Captain Aladra on a route from Daubu Station. We're having some system troubles I think. Being beamed some unwanted data. Locked out from our own systems.

Me too, I responded. Get your ship clear. I'm going to do a little manual weapons test of my laser system.

What part of locked out of our systems didn't you hear?

I'm manually aiming and firing lasers, I think you can manually turn on your sublight drive.

I hadn't even gotten unstrapped when the data transfer completed. No sooner had it signaled complete, my computer reported it was shutting down. I tried canceling that, but it was too late. My whole ship went dead, even the lights turned off leaving me in utter darkness. It lasted but a second, then the lights all came back on, and shortly after the individual systems began reporting in. Those took a bit longer.

When the sensors came online I discovered a fourth ship had entered our little area of space. This one was a Class II Enforcer, an Imperial ship. Enforcers came in three classes, all of them fully automated and piloted by artificial intelligence. The Class II was a combat ship, like a Battle Cruiser only more compact without all those useless people taking up space, not to mention their air.

Oh great, the cops, I muttered.

The Enforcer hailed, Ship Anarchy 2615 is an enemy of the state and will now be destroyed.

We're in the blast radius! Leona reminded me.

Obviously.

"And our shields aren't online yet."

Understood. I'll panic more.

The engines came online next and I turned my ship directly away from the Anarchy ship and kicked the sublight engines into action. This was one area my ship excelled in, and I had no doubt we'd make it well clear of any lethal damage. The Lightning Slug, on the other hand, still hadn't moved.

Captain Aladra broadcast, Imperial ship, disengage! Repeat, disengage! What are you doing? We can't get out of the way!

The Enforcer signaled back, "Greetings, Lightning Slug. You are not authorized to alter my orders. Good bye."

Slug! Get out of there! I signaled.

We're trying! No one has done this before! a scream replied. In the background of that scream were other shouts and cries. There were maybe four or five different voices. It was clear from what I heard that none of them were engineers. Some were still excited and hopeful, but their ideas only showed their inexperience. The others were despondent. They knew they were doomed. They sobbed and prayed and screamed at the hopeful. I knew they were right.

I couldn't bear to listen anymore. I cut the line.

My hand hovered over the decoy button, but Leona's hand touched my arm gently and I looked up and saw her shaking her head.

"They might consider you an accomplice," she explained. I knew she was right, but it was hard to sit there and do nothing. At that point, decoys would probably have done little to save the Slug anyway.

"Shields are back," she added. They were still heavily charged, despite the brief power outage.

A pair of laser banks fired from the Enforcer and deflected off the Anarchy ship's shields, a system the they'd apparently chosen to keep. Lasers were a common opening move. Lower shields, fire a couple banks, and raise them again in case the opponent was trying to time their own counter-shots. Then after a slight pause, drop the shields again and loose the torpedoes. I knew the tactic and I never doubted the torpedoes would follow, but at least I wished I was wrong. I wished this time the A.I. controlling the Enforcer had decided against torpedoes.

It hadn't. A second later the shields dropped again and it emptied it's tubes, firing six torpedoes and two stasis missiles. It fired two more laser blasts for good measure before the shields went back up.

The stasis missiles were the first to hit. They were the fastest with a tell-tale blue colored signature as they sped through space. Two missiles flew and two hit. They exploded in a sphere of crackling blue energy, large enough that the Lightning Slug was caught up as well. In this case, the stasis was pointless. No one was trying to jump away, so the missiles had little impact on the fight.

The enforcer slipped in a couple more lasers while the torpedoes closed the distance, they'd spread out into three groups of two, staggered to impact in waves.

The Lightning Slug suddenly came to life, engaging their own thrusters and turning roughly towards me. It was all for naught. The first pair of torpedoes hit and exploded. The Anarchy ship's shields failed and radiation engulfed it and the freighter. That in itself was probably enough to finish off the crew, but of course it didn't stop there.

The next pair of torpedoes hit seconds later and the blast tore a huge chunk of the Anarchy ship apart and sent fragments in every direction. Some of the debris collided with the freighter's hull, which was already melting along the starboard-aft corner. There was a small explosion along the side where the fragments beached the hull and the Slug began spinning.

The third impact left no question. The Anarchy ship was reduced to thousands of pieces of debris, hurtling away from the epicenter. The freighter was half melted and ruptured in a hundred places. With so much damage, I had no doubt that she'd lost life support. I tried hailing her a few times, but there was no answer. Still, maybe it was only their communication system that failed.

Life signs? I asked Leona.

"Scans indicate depressurization in the cabin and complete power failure. I'm running a deeper scan now."

The Imperial Enforcer hailed me with what was clearly a recorded message. You may have been a victim of terrorist propaganda. Please report anything unusual to your nearest Imperial Representative.

I shook my head sadly. It probably sent the same message to the Lightning Slug, whose crew it had just carelessly slaughtered. That was the Empire for you.

"No survivors," Leona confirmed. "Lighting Slug. Captain Aladra and eight crew. I'll post it."

A number of us had taken to posting news bulletins for ships killed by the Empire. Often the Empire neglects to mention these encounters with the appropriate next of kin. Don't think of it as random, though. The Empire follows very strict rules to determine who gets informed about what. It's just that collateral damage doesn't make the cut.

If the same ever happens to me, I hope someone is there to see it and record it. I don't want to just vanish. I closed my eyes and tried to remember a prayer, but all I could hear were the screams of the Slug's crew as they tried in vain to save themselves.

The Imperial Enforcer launched a small beacon, which floated over and attached itself to the remains of the Lightning Slug. Immediately it's message appeared on my sensor display along with the remains. It said, Imperial Salvage Approved. Status: Open. Bonus Pay: 5000.

Eventually a salvage board in Daubu would receive the notification and display the ship's position and bonus pay along with a surface scan of the ship. A few hundred trader and salvage captains would jockey to buy the salvage rights. The bonus pay was an incentive, but salvage rights to a full freighter was worth far more.

At least their bodies will make it somewhere, Leona said wistfully, gently stroking my back.

A minute later the Enforcer jumped away, a time-space transform to his next defense of the Empire.

I rubbed my eyes. What the hell just happened, Leona?

"The Empire just blew up a freighter to kill a ship that had already offloaded its contraband."

Right? That did just happen, right? Hyper-sleep dreams, oxystim, it's a bit fuzzy. And they just ignored the fact that we were transferred the contraband?

"We should be happy they didn't blow us up."

That could be the Ilsian slogan. The Ilsian Empire: Be happy. We haven't blown you up.

"They considered it, but it didn't test well in their key demographics."

That's funny. Can I use that as a pick-up line?

"Sure thing, cutie. But I should warn you it will probably fall flat with Ilsian women."

That's probably a good thing. I've seen Ilsian women.

"They look a lot like Ilsian men. Speaking of, I really need to change."

She spun around quickly, and brought an entirely different front to greet me. The flight suit was replaced with a low cut silken blouse in deep blue-green. It hung off her shoulders and looked like it might fall off entirely. It was long enough to act as a dress, stopping just above mid-thigh, and if she was wearing anything else, I couldn't see it. Her hair changed, too. The ponytail of dark hair was replaced with golden shoulder length curls. Her lips and nails were dyed to match the blouse and her eyes were ringed with black.

"Better?" she asked.

Beautiful, I said. Makes me wonder why I ever let you in uniform.

"To stop me from distracting you. Plus, you always seem to appreciate this more after you haven't see it for a while."

Good points.

"Enough to cut glass?"

Her nipples were well defined through the thin fabric, an effect she probably added to complete the joke, but it reminded me just how distracting she could be.

I'm going to get to those later, I said, pulling my eyes away. But seriously, what's your take on this? Random act of Imperial intervention? I've just suffered through two failed jumps, it's hard not to see a conspiracy.

"You think this has to do the our quarantine trespass?"

I doubt it. That's probably just paranoia.

"I think you're right there."

Maybe there are clues in the data we received. Have you analyzed it yet?

There's a message in Imperial and a big block of encrypted data.

This is the Oracle.

Save it.

Replicate it.

Distribute it.

It is locked.

The key will come.

Don't suppose there's any way to tell what the data is. Could be a virus or something.

By it's very nature, encryption makes a Quilobee virus indistinguishable from picture of puppies.

"My god, it could be pictures of puppies!"

Would explain why the Empire went after that ship. It's a well known fact they fear puppies.

You're adorable, I told her, looking back into her eyes. They should fear you.

She smiled at me, then very seriously said, "Oh, they will. She ruffled my hair and pulled me close. Love you, cutie. Let's get out of this graveyard already."

Agreed.

"And proceed to this later you were speaking of."

Yes lover, by all means.

I plotted a new course to Daubu Station, which was still thirty hours away by transform. That wasn't so bad considering the full trip was close to thirty-five days between, which is what we call the nothing-place you go during a transform.

"Preparing transform systems now," Leona said.

Let's hope we actually make it there this time. If there was another way, I'd use it.

There is no other way.

"I know. I just don't understand these things. When you're between, you aren't supposed to be anywhere. You certainly don't pass through physical space, or you'd be obliterated the first time you hit a spec of matter. And it's not like you run into other between ships either. I just don't understand how something in physical space can interact with you, let alone stop you."

"I'm sure the Empire knows."

"Well of course they know, but they aren't exactly explaining it."

"Transforms are highly studied, though," Leona said, gliding over to me. She circled behind my chair and wrapped her arms around me. "Scientists believe that matter in transform follows paths based on gravitational fields in physical space. There are equations to predict the path, which in turn can be used to predict the energy cost and time." She kissed my neck so softly, all I felt was warmth. They're fairly accurate.

If they do that, then there would be choke points.

Exactly, she added. Her fingers brushed through my hair. "Which is how a ship leaving Daubu can pass a ship going to Daubu, even when their other way points are no where near one another."

And the disruption? Do they have theories on that?

No, she said, kissing her way from my ear to my mouth. Somewhere along the way she'd added a pair of wire-framed glasses that made her look like a librarian, albeit a sexy one. "But I do. See, transforms generate an energy field around the ship. That field generation starts in real space, but stays with the ship and has to be maintained in order to stay in transform. I bet there's a way to tweak that field generation just right so that you stay in real space, but clobber any other fields passing by."

That makes sense, I guess.

"Enough that you can let it go?" she asked. She kissed me slowly with those full, soft lips.

Sure. Though I was rather enjoying the lesson from Librarian Leona, I said, grinning.

"You like her, but mostly because you know at any moment she'll do this." She took her glasses off and threw them dramatically across the room, then pounced on me like a piece of meat.

…

I awoke to an alarm tone and nearly put my hand through the screen before I realized it was just my wake-up call. This was natural sleep, not hyper-sleep, but I still felt groggy. A long bout of sex and a nap can do that to you.

"It's fine, relax Doogan. We've just left transform. We're about an hour out from docking at Daubu, no problems, no issues."

All the same, I double checked our position. Sure enough, we were exactly where we were supposed to be, and as best as I could tell everything was fine.

Sure, there were enforcers around, three Class I Enforcers and two Class IIs and that usually made me nervous. Their hailing frequencies repeated the familiar message, This is an Imperial Enforcement Zone. Violence will not be tolerated. They meant it, but I wasn't worried because I wasn't planning any. Visiting port is about the only time I don't mind the enforcers. It meant I didn't have to worry about the other three hundred and twenty-four individual ships my sensors registered throughout the system, most of which were densely clustered around the space port.

Though most of those were privately owned, a dozen or so were flying Imperial designations. Most of those were smaller ships, but there were two massive Dreadnaughts in orbit as well, the I.S.S. Daring, and the I.S.S. Mantra. My ship couldn't even stand up to the enforcers, so the presence of extra firepower didn't change much, but it did make me curious. There certainly wasn't that strong of an Imperial force on my last visit to the station.

I requested a docking tube, economy class, and in a flash the credits were deducted and my computer received docking coordinates. There were big tubes and small tubes, some so small that they were but conduits for power, air, water, and waste. The economy class was larger, making room for a coffin shaped transport pod which served as a conduit for people or small amounts of cargo.

Leona managed the docking while I got ready to face people. I actually already had a job lined up, so for the first time at Daubu I didn't have to worry about that. It let me focus on my main objective: figuring out who infected Leona to begin with.

As I mentioned before, Leona had been infected by a virus that I was fairly sure originated from a network on Daubu. The virus was rather specific to her make, and because of her close relationship with my nervous system, the virus was able to affect me, too. I suppose it could have done far worse than it did. For one, I'm still alive. It might not have gone that way, though. I was nearly killed a few times. Then again, I did meet some interesting people and learned a lot about this thing they called magic that I never knew existed before.

On the experience alone, I might call the trip even. I didn't die, no matter how close I came, and I learned a lot, made a few friends, and had some great sex – some of it even with real people. But while the positives might have balanced out the negatives, being forced into the whole thing left me furious. And if that wasn't bad enough, they'd used my dear Leona to do it.

I didn't know who they were. But I intended to find out.

"Second thing," Leona reminded me.

I know.

The first thing was ensuring Leona was truly clean. I'd already found and removed the Quilobee virus, which to my knowledge was the only problem. At least it accounted for everything, but that didn't mean there couldn't be a secondary infection. Just in case, I'd locked Leona out from a number of sensitive areas. That was annoying in itself, because it left more things for me to do, but it was not being able to trust her completely that was most demoralizing.

"Docking in 3...2...1..."

The tube connecting to my ship sent a shock wave I could feel through the chair, but could barely hear. The ship's computer chimed much louder as the automatic diagnostic sequence ran. A minute later the seal passed and the tube was ready for use. I gathered some things and made my way to the airlock, mentally preparing myself for engaging with society, trying to get ready for the world.

Unfortunately, the world was a little more ready for me. I opened the airlock to the barrel of a pistol, held by a hulking Imperial Trooper. The man inside the suit was likely quite small, but the layers of intimidating power armor did wonders for his physique. He didn't shoot me, or speak for that matter. He just stood there, blocking my way. He didn't really need to speak. I couldn't run anywhere, the tube kept my ship locked to the port, and the plasma pistol at my hip was hardly a threat to his armored shell.

Son of a bitch.

What's the meaning of this? I asked, as politely as I could muster.

He spoke by way of a synthetic recording of a message. He probably just keyed the message by number. Imperial business requires you be detained.

What business? Have I done something wrong?

He effectively ended the conversation with, In the course of my duties, I am permitted to gag you, pulse you, or render you unconscious.

In my head, I was running down the list of all possible reasons they could stop me. Intercepting illegal data from the Anarchy ship, violating an Imperial quarantine, a rusty panel on my hull, having a neural companion, following an out-dated docking protocol, violating Imperial trespass, unauthorized computer access, stealing, failure to pay taxes, failure to report income, failure to submit to a medical exam. Towards the end of that, I got stuck recounting every failure ordinance I could think of.

I wasn't even close to done when a second person arrived. It seems because I'd selected the economy tube, they could only bring one person through at a time. The second man was essentially the opposite of the first; he was legitimately big and had no armor. He wasn't fat, just tall and wide and a little plump in the cheeks and belly. The trip in the economy tube was probably no picnic for him.

He dressed in a white jumpsuit with a red medical insignia, had a head which was both shaved and balding, and carried with him a complicating scanning device the likes I'd never seen before. I wasn't amazed or anything, there's plenty of stuff I haven't seen before and it's usually not that amazing. Well, actually it's all amazing, but I'm used to it I guess.

I have a bad feeling about this, Leona said.

The technician, as I thought of him, floated past the trooper without saying a word and in fact never took his eyes off his scanner. He swept it about, listening to the odd beeps and clicks it made and shaking his head slowly.

Do you mind letting me know what this is about? I asked him.

He looked up, probably seeing me for the first time. His face was blank, as if my question confused him. What? He didn't say?

The trooper? No. He's a man of few recorded messages.

Oh. I'm verifying your radiation levels. I'm afraid they aren't good. Thankfully we had a tip or you might have infected the whole station.

A tip? Seriously? But wait, if I'm radioactive, am I not also infecting both of you?

Oh no. That isn't how it works.

But you aren't even wearing a suit. Are you immune or something? It just seems that if I was going to 'infect' the station, I would also be infecting you.

He frowned. Well, sir, I'm not going to argue with you. You haven't been briefed on this issue and I have. I understand the protocol to avoid infection. It was written quite clearly in my orders.

May I see them?

Yeah, right, Leona chuckled.

Certainly not, sir. And I am sorry to tell you this, but we're going to have to place you and your ship under quarantine for the time being. Trooper?

The trooper's armor emitted another message. You are being placed under confinement. You have thirty seconds to secure any personal affects.

There wasn't anything else I needed, so I didn't move. The large man continued his scan, but paused a moment at my lack of reaction.

Sir, did you not hear the trooper?

I heard him. I just don't have anything to collect.

Then why not proceed?

I still have twelve seconds.

He shrugged and continued his scan, which seemed sure to take longer than I had left. I looked to Leona and gave her a loaded nod.

"Lock it down. Got it."

I took my time, every last second, as my computer system systematically encrypted what little bits of incriminating data wasn't already encoded. The trooper turned to let me pass and I floated over into the pod just as my time was up. A moment later I was zipping through the tube towards Daubu.

The insanity of this was not lost on me, but when dealing with the Empire there is always a fair amount of insanity. The rules make perfect sense to Ilsian logic, but that has only so much in common with Human logic. As far as I knew, there was no radiation to speak of, and even if there were, their quarantine procedures made no sense. Which made this what?

"A setup," Leona remarked. "I get virused here and make us go to Glemux. Then we return here and are immediately sequestered. Mark my words, Doogan, this is about that. We visit a quarantined planet and return to get quarantined ourselves. No coincidence."

I can't see it any other way either, I sighed. But perhaps these are our answers seeking us out.

And you are just hoping they won't search the ship for all our illegal goodies?

They will or they won't. It's out of my control so I'm trying not to think about it.

The pod opened to a pair of troopers indistinguishable from each other or the trooper still aboard my ship. They even had their guns in the same position, pointing at me.

In case I haven't been clear, neither this portion of the station nor my ship had gravity. So I'd been floating this entire time. The troopers wore magnetic boots to stay put. This was the outer station. The inner station was essentially a wide, thick, spinning wheel, affording most of the interior space varying degrees of artificial gravity. Because people like gravity, almost everything interesting on the station was on the inner side.

The troopers directed me into a tube-car and joined me within. They still hadn't spoken to me, or even played any recorded messages. It wasn't that strange. This was how the Empire did business, and I'd gotten used to it.

We didn't wait for the others to return, but sped off towards the Wheel, as they call it. If you've never experienced a transition from zero-G to rotationally induced artificial gravity, don't feel bad. It's really just a lot of spinning and thrusting and braking, like a bad roller-coaster whose designer had no interest in people actually enjoying the ride.

I staggered out of the tube-car and we entered a wheeled cart for the last leg of our journey. The map on the dash showed our destination as the Imperial Detention Wing. I guess I should have expected as much. I'd spent so much energy evading capture, and here I'd just walked into jail. There was no resisting them, though. Leona comforted me, and that made it bearable.

They led me silently past the front desk, through a pair of security doors, into the medical wing, and finally to a cell with a solid clear wall that rose and lowered as the only door. It was a medical cell, akin to a small hospital room except that it was impossible to leave. But there was a bed and a variety of fixed instruments, some loose ones that made bad weapons, and a single plastic chair. I paced as they slid the door shut after me and then I watched them leave. And yes, somewhere in that time they took my gun.

So how fucked are we? I asked Leona.

"On a scale of one to ten? Nine. But it could be worse. You still have me."

I did at that. I looked over and saw her lounging invitingly on the bed. She was dressed as a nurse with long blonde hair. She was wearing proper medical attire, not some skimpy costume, but it had been ripped and pulled strategically to reveal plenty. It looked as if we were already half-way through playing a game. She'd even looped a sensor cuff around her wrist as a would-be restraint and was looking at me wantonly.

I smiled back and moved to her. Though I wasn't about to finish the game she'd set up in open view of the Empire, a little touching couldn't hurt. Of course once I got started it was hard not to keep going. Luckily I was moving slowly enough that my pants were still on when I heard a knock on the glass.

I turned around, expecting to see a trooper or that beefy technician who'd scanned my ship or perhaps a uniformed guard or doctor. I didn't expect to see her.

Trisha. My Latest Missed Opportunity.

Oh, this has taken an interesting turn.

When I last saw her, she was in a bar dressed to the nines. In front of my cell she wore a gray suit; all business, with a high neck and long sleeves, pants, and low, unimaginative shoes. There was nothing alluring about it, but I could still see her in her social wear if I concentrated.

Doogan Loran?

"As if she doesn't know."

Trisha.

So you remember me, she said cautiously. I wasn't sure you would. You'd had a lot to drink.

If this is your place, I said, gesturing to my cell, and this ruse a clever way to get me back to it, I think you've over-engineered it. I'm far easier than that.

I'd like to talk inside if I could, she said, ignoring the remark. Would I be putting myself in danger doing so?

I chuckled. Well I am 'radioactive', I said, with air quotes for emphasis.

Yes, but I understand the contamination protocol. It's written right here in my orders.

And you believe that?

She smiled. She had a delightful smile when she used it. Of course not. But I don't even think you're radioactive.

Then by all means, come in.

Leona traced her fingers along my neck and she circled around to whisper in my ear. "Shadows in the hall, there are troopers nearby."

I'm not planning on making any dramatic moves, I said, both to Leona and Trisha, assuming that was her actual name.

She keyed the door to raise, nodded to someone I couldn't see, and stepped in. The door closed after her. She took a seat in the plastic chair, then gestured me to sit on the bed.

First things first, my name isn't Trisha. I hate the name Trisha. I'm Molly, Molly Kilk. I don't actually care for Kilk either, so please call me Molly.

Got it. And you can skip my last name. I never use it. So are you going to make this all make sense?

I know you don't believe it. But I actually am.

Who the hell are you again?

I'm Molly with Imperial Espionage.

"Sure she is."

Imperial Espionage was a joke, a rumor that spread throughout the galaxy. It was propaganda to keep people inline. But oh, there were stories! If you believed them all, the Imperial Espionage wing was monitoring every single piece of Imperial crafted equipment, which accounted for nearly everything you might ever possess. There were stories of them assassinating rulers with seemingly non-lethal everyday gadgets, crippling fleets of ships at a time to stop a single person from getting out of a system, and brainwashing people to act as double agents.

Say again?

I-m-p-e-r-i-a-l E-s-p-i-o-n-a-g-e, Molly said again, so slowly it was painful, but she took amusement in it. We're the reason you have Leona, the reason she got infected with the Quilobee virus, and the reason you're sitting in a medical detention cell.

She was so calm it was infuriating. Normally Leona would try to keep me from getting too mad in a situation like this, but instead she tugged my hand toward a rolling medical stand.

"You could probably break her skull open with this," she remarked coldly.

I'm not going to brain her, dear, I said.

Molly raised a curious brow. It was a cute expression. She was cute. If there was an Imperial Espionage, they'd selected her well. I'd always had a weakness for women.

Understandable that you'd want to. Or that she'd want you to. You're probably wondering how, and who, and why. I'll address them all. Like I said, I'm going to make this make sense, or try anyway. She paused, and looked about the room. Refreshments first? You've had a long trip.

I'd rather just get it over with. If I've lost my ship and my freedom, I just want to know.

That's really up to you. But yes, we want something and we aim to get it.

I sighed. Fine, refreshments then. No sense getting blackmailed thirsty.

That's the spirit, she said, smiling.

She cocked her head sideways and a moment later a trooper rolled a hotel room-service cart up to the door and left it. Molly walked over and the cell door opened. Again, I could have run for it, but I knew I wouldn't get far. She brought the cart in, and when the door slid shut again it also turned completely opaque. The once clear wall was now black, presumably from both sides, giving us privacy.

Alone at last, I remarked.

The cart had a number of bottles of liquor, from high end scotch to white wine. There was nothing non-alcoholic to drink, but she knew I liked alcohol so that wasn't a big surprise. In addition to drink, there were small bowls of nuts, leafy greens, cheeses, fruits, crackers, cooked meats, and sauces. Some had already been combined into elegant looking snacks. I grabbed a few that looked expensive and swallowed them nearly whole as if they were cheap. If my lack of class offended her, she kept it well hidden. She smiled politely and poured us glasses of a wine so dark it was nearly black.

To saving the Empire, she toasted.

To getting my life back, I countered. We both drank. Wine isn't really my drink, but it was surprisingly good.

Molly then gestured to the now-blackened wall behind her and it came to life with a sensor display. It was a static scene, nothing was updating. But from the layout, detail, and number of tracked targets I could only assume this was from an Imperial Capital ship, something bigger than even a dreadnaught. It might have been a Class III enforcer, or perhaps even an Imperial Carrier.

I studied it further, noting twenty-three hostile targets and three friendlies. The friendly targets were all identified as Enforcer, Class III. The hostile targets were identified as Unknown, but their mass was in the same ballpark as my ship, which is to say small. Now you might think twenty-three against four is pretty good odds, but that's only because you've never laid eyes on a Class III Enforcer.

Imperial Carrier? I asked.

Good eye, Molly replied. This was taken from the data recorder aboard the Imperial Carrier Dekla, she explained.

Unknown ships. I don't think I've run into anything the Empire couldn't already identify. Even the customized Anarchy ship I'd run into early had been identified as Battle Cruiser class, but I didn't bother mentioning that.

Yes, that is rare. Now watch this.

The scene animated. One of the target screens zoomed into focus and I saw for the first time the outline of the enemy ship itself, a small wedge shaped vessel with almost no visible signature. The computer scanners outlined its dark shape with green lines, making its shape visible, but little else. Then there was a flash and I saw the distinctive blue streaks of stasis missiles heading towards the little ship. The missiles hit and erupted with a sphere of crackling blue energy, then subsided. That's the usual effect, so I didn't think much of it.

Stasis missiles disrupt transform matrices. If I knew how transforms worked, I might stand a chance of explaining why. But being in the blast radius of a stasis explosion makes your hull glow for a minute or so, and when you're glowing you can't even start the transform process. In short, they stop you from running away so the torpedoes and lasers can find you.

Red streaks followed, a cluster of five glowing red torpedoes that zipped through empty space towards the waiting ship. If five torpedoes hit my ship, shields or no, I'd be done for. In this case, right before the torpedoes hit, the ship vanished and the red streaks flew past. It reappeared a second later, about three kilometers away, flanking the Imperial ships.

What the hell was that? I asked.

Molly paused the playback. You tell me.

How the hell should I know? It didn't cloak, it couldn't have jumped. Some kind of micro-transform? One that ignores stasis? Whatever it is, this is technology the Empire doesn't have.

I think you're right, but we can hardly conclude that from the evidence.

Well, you wouldn't be pointing it out to me if you knew what it was, I said.

You do like the argue, she said, but she seemed strangely amused by it.

And you don't?

"Let me clarify. I'm Molly, with Imperial Espionage. I am not the collective knowledge of the entire Ilsian Empire in human form."

I find that strangely comforting.

Well your comfort is a priority. But to the issue, to the best of my knowledge, this is totally new. Would you like to see their weapons?

Sure.

Well you can't. Neither could we. There was a build up of energy, you'll see that here. She resumed the video but skipped ahead to a view of the sensors again during which five of the enemy ships suddenly began glowing brightly in the sensor display. Then they dimmed and one of the friendly Class III Enforcers exploded.

My jaw dropped. Nothing did that to a Class III. But something just did, five little somethings to be precise, but small somethings; seemingly insignificant somethings. I'd never actually heard of anyone being a serious threat to the Empire, but it looked like it finally happened.

Those wee little ships just blew up your big robot ship.

You caught that, did you? Do you have a joke for the Imperial Carrier? They took that out next, along with it's fourteen hundred crewmen.

That's at least an order of magnitude less funny.

The term you're looking for is tragic. The only thing that softens it is that they were Ruellan, she added with a smirk. That was a bad joke, a racist joke, but I laughed. Ruellans weren't well loved in the Empire, which is probably why the Emperor had them fighting on the front line.

She shook her head. I really didn't want them to be admitted to the Empire.

Weren't they admitted like a thousand years ago?

Well, yeah. Originally. I guess re-admitted is the right word. But enough about them. These ships. You can't think of anything that might explain what you've just seen? she said, with a tone that said she already knew I did.

No, sorry.

Sweetie, you're just dragging this out.

Molly sighed. You're worried about getting in trouble. I get that. The Empire is good at making people worried. It's part of their core charter. She smirked, but I thought it was probably true. "You came from the Glemux system, Doogan. We know you were there. We sent you there. We also have sensor logs from the Enforcer there. We even saw you vanish, though your ship has no cloaking device. And yes, the radiation bit was a scam. There's no radiation on your ship. But it's a documented scam."

Meaning I'm at your mercy.

Well, yes. But we didn't send you there so you wouldn't talk about it. We sent you there because we hoped you'd learn something valuable. Now would be a good time to talk about it.

I don't see how this is even related. Was that footage taken from the Glemux system?

No. It was taken from a different system entirely, the Kalqori system. But it has the same unique pattern of radiation as Glemux.

You mean the radiation that doesn't exist? That I'm not infected with?

Oh, the radiation pattern is very real. It's the infection that's a lie. It only exists close to these planets; Kalqori, Glemux, and a few others. So tell me, how did your ship disappear?

So the technician scanning my ship, what was he detecting? Oxygen?

"Don't be silly. He'd find that everywhere. It was all faked, Doogan. Don't worry about the details, they are far less interesting than how your ship disappeared."

I looked to Leona, who nodded encouragingly.

Magic, I replied honestly, but I hardly expected her to believe me.

Go on, she said, sounding very much like she did. Like a spell or something? Did the natives help you?

Ritual magic, I explained. "Which looks a lot like a spell being cast by multiple people at the same time to make it more powerful. And yes, the natives helped me, the ones that weren't trying to kill or lobotomize me. But to be honest, this situation is entirely different. My ship didn't get hit with a stasis missile and ignore it. I avoided it entirely. In fact, what I did was exactly like a cloaking device."

But you don't have one.

"Which is why I said like a cloaking device. I already told you, it was magic. That's what the residents of the planet call it anyway. I don't have a better term myself. It can do amazing things, but it's all tied to the planet itself, as far as I could tell."

Right, the radiation. I just went over that.

"So you understand. Magic doesn't work elsewhere. It worked for me because we were still in orbit. Those ships the Empire encountered were clearly in formation in space. I don't even see a planet and I don't see the connection."

Well, there is a planet and these ships are from there, and even away from the planet they emit the same radiation pattern, just on a smaller scale. It's the pattern! she exclaimed. What other connection do you need?

Hard to say, but more than that. Hold on. When did this battle take place? Before you infected Leona? And how did you infect her and why me anyway?

She sighed. The time isn't that important, but it was before you went to Glemux. And we knew about Glemux because it's quarantined and actually we know a lot more about it than that, but some of it's classified even to me. Keep that in mind, it will start to explain a lot. Infecting Leona was easy. I plugged into her while we were chatting at the bar. If you think back, you can probably even imagine the moment.

I thought back. She took my hand at one point, held it, then looked away quickly and my eyes followed hers. It wasn't long after that she'd left. It was about the only time she'd touched me, so that had to be it.

There, she said, sensing my comprehension. And as for why you? Well Doogan, believe it or not, you come highly recommended. We needed someone outside the Empire, because no one inside the Empire would be allowed to go. It's quarantined, you know.

Oh sure, that makes perfect sense.

To get approval to go would have taken years. I'm not exaggerating.

And you couldn't just go anyway?

And jeopardize our careers? No, much better to send an outsider. So we looked for someone accessible, someone skilled in dealing with salvaging old technology, someone we had already been involved with.

"And when was it we were previously involved?"

Oh, I wasn't there back then. But it was when you were given Leona. I've read the file, but I can't really discuss it with you. I'm sure they didn't mention they were with Imperial Espionage.

They didn't, I said. I had no idea. I suppose it sort of made sense in retrospect, assuming this spy wing of the Empire actually existed.

I still don't get what you want from me, I told her. I'm just one person and this looks like a war. Have you even destroyed one of their ships?

Oh yes. They aren't invincible, but to be honest I don't think we've faced the worst of them. We want you to tell us what we're up against and help us fight it.

Oh that's all?

A simple task for someone with your skills, she smirked.

I couldn't help but laugh. It was almost surreal. I wouldn't even know where to begin.

Oh that's easy. Just say yes. She flashed a charming smile and it was hard not to want to see it again. Yes, they'd chosen her well.

If you say yes without asking terms, I'll lose all respect for you.

I grinned at Leona. I wasn't that smitten with this Molly. What was in it for me again?

For starters, we obviously won't send you to jail for violating an Imperial quarantine. In addition, we'd provide you with certain resources to help you with your mission: an Imperial Scout to help avoid any conflicts with our own side, a state of the art protocol analyzer, an upgrade for Leona. These would be yours to keep once this unfortunate conflict has ended.

"Did she say upgrade?"

The upgrade was the least appealing item on the list. Imperial Scouts were nearly impossible to come by. They were given out as gifts only, though occasionally they could be found listed in the black market. They were small ships, though bigger than mine, and were the smallest ship on record with a cloaking device. Rapid-cool lasers, twin-burst torpedo tubes, and a single tube stasis missile system gave the ship enough punch to stand up to a Class II Enforcer, though admittedly the outcome was far from guaranteed. I'd been drooling over them for as long as I could remember. She probably knew it.

"And I keep my ship and everything on it. You make this whole radiation scam go away, in a documented way. And I'll need to know everything you do about this other world and these other ships."

Done.

She didn't even pause. I should have asked for more, but I really wasn't that greedy. I'd have done about anything to stay out of jail and land an Imperial Scout.

Oh, and one more thing. I want the remote detonators removed from both Leona and my ships when this is done.

Detonators? she asked innocently.

Oh you're surely planning to keep me in check somehow.

Surely. But detonators? Still, I can see what you're getting at and I'll remove our hooks, so to speak.

If I say yes, does that make me a spy?

No. More of a consultant.

Oh.

"Asset is a better word. But you can always say you're with Imperial Espionage, in the sense that we're united in this mission."

I can live with that. I guess we have a deal. But I still don't know where to start.

I think I know. Put on this badge and follow me.

CHAPTER 2

Doogan

No chaperones? I asked, as we left the detention center. For some reason I expected Troopers to come along for the ride.

I'm a big girl.

"And she knows she owns us."

Good point.

We rode in the reserved tube-car, just us, which she programmed to take us thirty-six degrees 'up' the ring, completely opposite the direction of anything I knew on the station. The cars have no windows, just screens, and she'd turned those off. The silence and lack of anything other than her to look at drove me to small talk.

"So, Imperial Espionage. Does that mean this is this your operation? I asked. Do you even call them that?"

We call them that, she said.

And by not answering the original question, should I infer this isn't your operation?

"Logically, you can only infer I didn't care to answer. But I will say that you are classified as my asset, and no one else's. And that means, for all you are concerned, it's my operation."

But you have a boss?

Doesn't everyone?

I don't, I said.

She chuckled. That's funny on at least two levels. No three.

Of course I hadn't meant it to be funny at all. Three?

First, because I'm your boss, she explained. Second, because Leona is your boss. And thirdly, well, your penis, of course.

Well, I'll accept the last one. And Leona I suppose. I expect you have the order right, too. But it does make me wonder how my person would have responded if you offered it your body instead of Leona an upgrade.

You'll have to keep wondering, she replied. I may have been imagining it, but I thought she looked a little flushed, and she took off her jacket, leaving her in a long sleeved silk blouse that made her look far less businesslike.

But I don't think you're my boss. I'm more like an independent contractor. Free to leave anytime I'd rather go to jail. I mean I am your asset. That makes me the important one, right?

Yes, Doogan. You're the important one, she said, patronizingly. Also, we're here.

The tube car opened into the Imperial Shipyards. It wasn't a restricted area, per say, but I'd never been before. I'd been to another shipyard though, and it felt like I was walking into the exact same one, except they were building different ships. There were six bays, three on each side. They were big enough to make entire battle cruisers in a single bay, though anything larger was made in pieces and then shipped out for assembly in space.

We skirted along the front two bays, and I noted the second contained a recently completed Imperial Scout. I'm sure Molly did this on purpose to wet my appetite before dragging me into the task at hand. But even with my new beautiful ship in sight, I found my eyes wandering to her beautiful body as she walked ahead of me.

We passed the ship and strolled down to a sealed off section of the yard whose giant door read Research and Development in written Imperial.

There were troopers here and there, large and intimidating in their power armor, yet entirely motionless like Imperial scarecrows. Of course they didn't need to move since their helmet cameras covered every possible angle. I'm sure they scanned my badge and Molly's and then promptly ignored us as we walked past. When people behave, troopers are more like statues than guards.

We stepped into an airlock separating the restricted area from the rest of the shipyards and paused while the doors cycled and air hissed in and out. Finally the far doors opened. Beyond them was a sea of ruin.

What looked to be the remains of a dozen small black and gray ships lay strewn about the hangar. There were men in white jumpsuits scattered about, maybe a dozen in all, looking through the rubble with various imaging devices taking readings. There was a lot to see, though we weren't very close. Clearly these ships had seen battle and lost.

I told you we'd been able to kill some of them, Molly said. We won this battle, and this is what we have to show for it.

This is huge, I whispered. Leona seemed equally impressed. She was all decked out in her cute lab assistant look; long white fitted coat, clipboard, and black glasses. Her hair wasn't the usual brown ponytail, but rather a short black bob that looked a near match for Molly's. She seemed to be taking notes.

So what have you learned so far?

They're structurally weak, with very few components. We can't figure out how they fly, shoot, or see. But our theory is that it's all done through this one system, which takes up about half of the inside of each ship. Let me show you.

We walked over to the nearest ship, which had been ripped in half. Towards