Incursion Vector

030

"Spare me the press release." He pulled his computer out of his pocket and checked the time. "This is not a healthcare facility. Healthcare facilities are not located parsecs away from shipping lanes and civilized populations. They are not policed by seasoned Naval Intelligence operatives posing as desk clerks. They do not receive shipments of restricted tech and prohibited organics from Colonial fringe facilities. And they most certainly do not arm their physicians. I do believe that last one goes against any legitimate physician's Hippocratic Oath."

The accommodating expression on Maro's face dissolved as quickly as his false, placating personality did. "How much did you have to spend to get our location, Ironside?"

"Less than I paid Seigfried's mother for a divorce and sole custody." He kept the same vapid, grinning expression on his face and let the silence endure until Maro shifted uneasily on his feet from the weight in the air. "Why are you experimenting on my son, Commander? Don't insult my intelligence by uttering some ridiculous story about new wound treatments, either."

Maro looked slightly shocked that anyone would know his actual rank. "How-"

"Commander Mauricio Maro, born 15 July 2736 in Los Toldos, Argentina, Earth. Entered the Annapolis Naval Academy at age 16, managed to graduate with subpar qualifications due to your mother's undue influence within the Senate helping to obfuscate your psychoactive habit. Eventually you got your act together and made commander. Unfortunately you've fallen off the transport." Ironside placed his computer back into his front pocket. "I destroyed your supplier's facility piece by piece until he finally consented to give up your identity and the marginally clever delivery method you came up with to sustain your habit."

Maro's eyes widened to engulf most of his head as he turned around to run back to the clerk at the reception desk. "Code Red! Immediate facility lockdown! Secure the subjects and prepare for-"

"This is Headmaster Captain Rungran of the INS Frank Herbert," came a voice over the station's internal speakers. "Alexander Ironside, have your forces stand down so we can meet face to face without our people shooting up the facility."

Ironside smiled in amusement, placed his hand into his pocket, and keyed in the code that signaled his mercenaries to hold their positions within the facility's freight network. "Wonderful to finally hear from you, Tom. I'll be here in this nasty little waiting room of yours for five minutes. At that point I will begin selectively ventilating occupied sections of this facility into space."

"You can't do that," growled Maro.

Glaring at the idiot he snapped, "I designed the defense, networking and power infrastructure currently implemented within this station, you inbred sack of terran shit. Do not tell me what I can and can not do with something I created."

Just as Maro reached for his sidearm Ironside locked down the isolation door with a button press from his computer. The bulkhead snapped shut in the Commander's face, nearly clipping his outstretched arm off in the process. From the looks of his red cheeks he was screaming obscenities at the locked door, but since there was now a vacuum between the receptionist's desk and the waiting room none of the unintelligent ravings made it through.

It took only two minutes for the Rear Admiral to land in the shuttle bay accompanied by what looked to be eighth year Marine cadets as his bodyguards. Equipped head to toe in the latest revision of exosuit shipboard assault armor the tint of their helmets rendered them six faceless drones in the company of the much more interesting admiral himself.

Tall, dark-eyed, and having grown a close-cut beard in his conditional retirement, Tom Rungran did not look anything like the spymaster he still was. In fact, what he looked like was a vagabond stuffed into an unranked Navy jumpsuit to serve as a diversion for real figures of power. The only sign he had any sort of authority somewhere was the Headmaster Captain prefacing his surname on his chest patch.