Vaughn pulled her eyes away from the drax, still in Teserin form, and back to the fighting. It was now reduced to brief skirmishes as the O’thik, as Ixim named them, finished cleaning out the last pockets of Viseith resistance. Then her attention was being dragged back to the drax with another tingling rush to find Brin’s wound being closed by the same power that healed her seemingly forever ago.
“The rest of the team?” She asked hoarsely, looking up into Ixim’s face.
The drax grimaced.
“Heavy casualties.” He reported, leaning back from Brin’s unmoving form to run long fingers through his dense white hair. “I tried to bring the O’thik back as quickly as I dared but I was too late. Only a handful still remains alive, including you and the weapons master. The Viseith had extraspacial defenses in place that I had to counter before I could reopen a portal into the archive, fatally delaying my return.”
Vaughn’s lips thinned as she considered that. According to Brin’s brief reports during battle, it also appeared as though the Viseith had easy access to the archive building, despite various security protocols in place, protocols even more stringent since the last encounter with the Praetors’ covert intelligence arm. They circumnavigated security, penetrated the building and shut down Damatakrice with very little effort. In all, a well-planned and well-executed penetration, which would’ve succeeded if Ixim hadn’t drawn on his powerful Drax abilities to thwart it.
Apparently the drax was considering the same thing.
“They must’ve had somebody on the inside.” He hissed, a flare of anger burning away his fatigue. “Somebody that gave them enough advance notice they were able to plan and execute this attack, already aware of our destination and the security here.”
“Didn’t we receive our brief only this morning?” Vaughn countered, earning her a tight look from the drax. Which, oddly enough, faded to a curious look of respect.
“Yes.” Ixim confirmed with a nod, his face thoughtful. “But Isivir Command has desired to bring you to the archive from the beginning, even before we made contact with the Directorate.”
“Not the best kept secret, then. Only the date was in question.”
Ixim nodded again, folding his arms across his chest.
“Which we determined last night, following the completion of your evaluation.”
“So the Viseith had a team trained and a plan formulated and in place, waiting only for the exact day to strike.” Vaughn finished the drax’s thought with a nod of her own, seeing the logic in it. And feeling a cold twist in her belly as it confirmed both hers and Ixim’s suspicion.
The team had a traitor in its midst, a sworn enemy of the Pax in the form of a Viseith deep cover operative, a sleeper or a mole of some sort. Somebody deep enough, or protected enough to pass the extra-stringent protocols Isivir Command had put in place for team selection. To think they could’ve carried that mole all the way to Earth in their search for the Crown of Oberon was enough to send a chill trickling down Vaughn’s spine.
Apparently, however, the Praetors didn’t have the patience to wait that long, choosing instead to attempt to take the book they originally penetrated the archive to steal some time ago. That meant one of two things: either the Praetors didn’t think the lone human recruited by the Pax to help them would be effective. Or they were thoroughly convinced the talisman’s location was buried somewhere in the dense and highly allegorical language of the se’Benite text.
Further consideration was forestalled by Ixim’s hand stretched forth towards her.
“Come, colonel.” The drax said with a faint smile. “Let us survey the battlefield and see if the enemy close to our heart is counted amongst the dead.”
The drax’s report on the team’s casualties were, if anything, conservative, Vaughn discovered to her horror and chagrin when they stepped to where Deks and the others had made their stand. The tight knot of operatives were all but destroyed, gunned down from three sides when the Viseith assault completely flanked them. Their hands glowing soft blue with healing energies, a number of healers were already working amongst the bodies, trying to coax life from the burnt and broken husks.
Surveying the scene, grim in their black suits, were a number of ISD agents, com units chattering almost nonstop and hands hovering close to holstered weapons. It was one of them that suddenly piped up from where she was searching three downed Isivir that were beyond the healers’ ability to revive.
“Got something.” She rasped, a no-nonsense Juresil with a scar running along her tanned jaw. She handed a small object to the nearest standing agent, a frowning Teserin that looked hard enough to rip through solid plasticrete with his bare hands.
The muscular Teserin agent quickly flipped the object around in his hands, the flattened spindle minuscule in his hands. After a brief consideration, he handed it to the agent beside him, who began cataloguing it with a small, handheld AI.
“A covert communication device of some sort.” The Teserin agent indicated, looking first at Vaughn then to Ixim. “Of Viseith issue, found sewn into the fabric of his tunic.”
Ixim swung his eyes off the sliver of plastic and metal and down onto the dead Juresil the device had been discovered upon. If this was the mole, then his fellow Viseith made little or no effort to insure he survived the attack; the dead Juresil had no less than six separate wounds, two of which would’ve been instantly fatal.
“Sloppy of them.” Vaughn muttered, also looking the supposed mole over with a jaded eye. “A couple superficial wounds to make it look like he was with us, but to kill him outright?” She looked over at Ixim.
“The Viseith aren’t that determined to win, are they? That they’ll sacrifice their own people for the cause?”
The drax’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. But it was the Teserin ISD agent that answered, Ixim choosing, for the moment, to remain silent.
“It isn’t unheard of, agent.” He rasped, thumbing the com unit in his ear to reduce the incoming volume in order to better concentrate on what was passing between the human and the drax.
“The Praetors have used suicide bombers in recent cycles with high amounts of explosive strapped to their bodies to devastate civilian targets with little regret. Our intelligence suggests they may be trained Viseith operatives brainwashed into accepting such assignments. If they have no compunction against such sacrifice, why would they ask twice about killing a mole that’s outlived its usefulness?”
Vaughn grimaced. The ISD agent’s logic was impeccable. And she had her own experiences in the field to back it up. Several rebel factions in the Directorate used similar guerilla and terrorist tactics against civilians, targets made vulnerable by the lack of security and military protection afforded to military and secure sites. It was barbaric but highly effective in swaying popular opinion. Nobody liked dying, especially getting killed in the midst of carrying out their day-to-day activities. Local government always reeled against the sudden surge of public pressure that followed every such attack.
What made these particular terrorists that much more deadly was they had their own spy network and knew exactly where to hit to hurt the Pax the most.
“Terrorists with a mission.” She growled, earning her looks from both the ISD agent and Ixim.
“Terrorist?” The agent carefully repeated in slow and awkward english before switching back to his native language. “I don’t believe I’ve heard of such a term. We certainly don’t have a word for it in the Sidhe tongue.”
“It’s a term we humans use to label those willing to use terror tactics to achieve their goals. Bombing of public facilities with high civilian populations or heavily trafficked to create public uproar against governing bodies, guerilla warfare on a covert scale and targeting innocents to enact revenge or attrition against governing bodies otherwise untouchable. Generally any act used to create an atmosphere of terror and uncertainty in at-risk populations, disrupting daily routine and lifestyle.”
The ISD agent frowned.
“Sounds like the Praetors and the Viseith, all right.” He rasped.
“Too much so.” Ixim growled. “They’re making it harder and harder to keep their presence secret from the general populace with their suicide bombers, sabotage and covert assaults. I’d label them hane’chbet, users of terror as well, for their style of attack.”
Regardless of what the Sidhe and the Drax decided to call them, the Viseith and their political masters the Praetors, were getting more and more successful at creating a stir within the Sidhe population, if this attack on the archive was any indication. Vaughn frowned as she swung her eyes over the impromptu battlefield once more. They certainly managed to decimate the team selected to hunt the Crown of Oberon, if that was their goal.
“So now what do we do?” She husked, looking back at Ixim. “The team is in shambles. More than half are dead. Is the Pax’s quest to find the talisman equally dead?”
“Hardly.” Ixim returned, his face hardening with determination. “If anything, this attack has underlined the need we have to find the Crown before the enemy does, to prevent them from shattering the Pax into shards and throwing half the galactic arm into chaos and war.”
He turned brilliant eyes onto Vaughn.
“I, however, won’t be the one deciding what the team will be doing next. Attached to the team, yes. But as a drax, I’m not allowed to hold any command position within either the Isivir or the Pax military.” He reached out to lay a heavy hand on Vaughn’s shoulder.
“That leaves just you, colonel. You’re the only surviving team member with full Isivir accreditation. You get the pleasure of determining our next move.”
Vaughn bobbed a tight nod, her face thoughtful. She thought as much upon catching sight of the devastation surrounding the team and what Brin had told her how the Sidhe felt about the Drax. Still, she had hoped, . . .
“Very well.” She rasped. “Since I really don’t like waiting around for something to happen, I’m going to make something happen. And, first things first, we need to police these bodies.” She looked over at the ISD agent.
“You there, what’s your name?”
“Agent Qint.” The muscular Teserin immediately answered.
“And you’re lead agent on this situation?”
The gray skinned alien blinked in surprise at the human’s terminology, close to what they actually use.
“Uh, yes. I’d be the lead here.”
Vaughn nodded. Again as she suspected; the Teserin wouldn’t have been doing any talking if he didn’t feel he was in some sort of position of power and authority to do so.
“Hopefully you won’t mind some direction here. While I’m sure you’ve had some experience in these sorts of matters, I’ve had more than I care to.”
Qint glanced at Ixim then back to Vaughn, uncertainty suddenly painted on his face. What was the human thinking she’d could or would actually do here?
“Not at all.” He replied after a moment’s hesitation. “I strongly believe in inter-agency cooperation.”
“Excellent.” Vaughn smiled. “Then let’s start with those that are still alive. While I’m sure it was in the plan to do so, you still haven’t moved the survivors off site to a secure medical facility. Since we need all the survivors to rejoin our team as quickly as possible, we need them taken care of as soon as possible. These ‘healers’ appear to be competent but I’m sure my people would feel a lot better in a bio-tank or regen bed or whatever you folks use to put your wounded back together.”
As Qint nodded his understanding of her rapid-fire instructions, Vaughn quickly went on.
“And move the dead to a temporary morgue where your team can finish their searches on the bodies, both friendly and adversary. At the same time, establish a news net liaison to deal with the obvious questions surrounding such a public attack. Only one guideline here, of course, . . .”
“No mention of involvement by the Isivir, the Praetors or the Viseith.” Qint finished for her with another nod. “Standard procedure. We’ve already developed a cover story suggesting a power conduit containment failure led to the damage of one of the archive’s floors. As soon as I have a liaison in place, we’ll start floating it to the news grid.”
“Nice. And make sure this place is absolutely sanitized. Since it’s a public facility, we don’t want visitors three days from now walking in and seeing blast marks on the archive columns.”
Qint grinned as he reached up and reactivated his com link.
“Didn’t think of that. I’ll call one in right now.”
Vaughn turned to Ixim while the brawny Teserin began to talk in a low voice on his link.
“While he’s doing that, we need to contact Isivir Command and get an interim team in place as soon as possible. The faster we get back in the hunt, the better off we’ll be.’
“I agree.” Ixim nodded. “Considering the Viseith saw it necessary to stage such a public attack in an obvious bid to deprive us of our only clue, they could be much further along in the search than ourselves. We can’t afford to lose any more ground to them.”
Vaughn dug out the data disk she had Damatakrice compile with information about the Scepter of Titania and its connection to the Crown. He caught it when she tossed it to him, holding the disk up for a quick examination before thumbing it open.
“Actually, this trip proved more useful than Isivir Command anticipated.” She explained as Ixim let his eyes roam over the data that began scrolling at his behest. Vaughn grinned when she saw his eyes abruptly widen in realization of what he was looking at.
“I think we have something they don’t.”
“Blessed Maker!” Ixim rasped, looking wide eyed at Vaughn. “It appears I owe you an apology, colonel. You not only failed to waste my time, but you’ve given me and the rest of the Pax hope we’ll prevent the destruction of our nation. The advantage has become ours!”