Echoes of the Storm

Chapter 19

The DR-1 skiff droid chauffeuring Jack mechanically announced their arrival at Rys Mining Corporation. The sign outside the structure looked as well-worn as DR-1, which meant it dated back a hundred years. The old model transport rumbled onto a wide circular drive. Dozens of dilapidated, abandoned miners' huts radiated in concentric circles around the corporate headquarters.

Jack thanked DR-1 and climbed out of the vehicle. He looked apprehensively at the unadorned building, a remnant of the modest-yet-functional construction boom of the previous century. "Riga Sector Headquarters," he murmured.

There were no guards at the scuffed gray door, but Jack spotted vidcams in multiple locations. A receiver/transmitter array on the roof reached skyward. It wasn't impressive—two towers, maybe four meters tall—a TP-2500, maybe a 2800. Nothing fancy, but enough that a casual observer might wonder why a mining company would need even that much communication power.

On the other hand, the TP-2800 would not be powerful enough for Riga Command to transmit to its ships in the far reaches of space. The good stuff had to be underground, easy enough to do in the old mines.

Jack squared his shoulders and walked briskly up to the entrance. He wasn't quite sure what to expect, but knew what he wanted: troops, weapons, ships. His people needed help. The Riga had tried and failed to secure freedom for his world. Did they have anything left to offer Torredo now?

The doors slid open and Jack entered a foyer lined with darkened glass walls. The vidcams here were not so obvious, but he still counted three.

"Please approach the window," a no-nonsense female voice called from a reception window. "I will need to verify your papers before you proceed."

Jack placed a set of authorization forms on the rectangular-shaped protrusion on the counter, barely removing his fingers before the tray disappeared behind the counter. He'd had one debriefing at the Riga processing center in Kasara, a few kilometers away. They'd made quick work of it, able to confirm his identity even without seeing his name and face all over the streams. He had no desire to remain long on Rysis, but Command had assigned him a room at barracks adjacent to the spaceport. With all the watchful eyes, he felt like a prisoner among his allies.

There was a swish and a second later, a badge appeared in the tray. The door to his right swung open. He grabbed the badge and strode into the long gleaming white-walled corridor, his boots echoing off the polished marble floors. Halfway down the hallway, a door opened.

And standing there, a familiar face...

"Captain Chase!" Jack exclaimed. He reached Matt in three long strides and shook hands with him vigorously. "I wasn't sure I'd ever see you again."

Chase tried to smile, but remorse filled his eyes. "I read your debrief report," Chase said.

"Already?"

"Command shot them to me as soon as your identity was confirmed." Chase ran a hand through his long, dark hair. "I don't know what to say. If I hadn't left you and Cloe with those pirates, she'd be—"

"You did the right thing," Jack said. "And Cloe would be pissed if she knew you were trying to apologize. She'd say get your asses out there and take a few down for me, which is exactly why I'm here. She's going to be okay. Encompass dropped me at Argolas, and her next stop was somewhere with a good medical facility—" He shook his head. "Right, you read the report." The report that hadn't noted Ben Stone and Matt Chase were brothers.

Chase's blue eyes brimmed with steadfast determination. They'd both lost many friends to this war, and every one would tell them their deaths would only have meaning if the resistance carried on.