Meddlers In Time- The Cockatoo River Incident Read online

  “Not considered an essential import- you know how it is in the colonies.”

  “I will talk to the skipper- a few cases from your cellars and we bring you a couple of shock field generator by the back door. The ICS nosy's don't need to know everything.”

  “Jim and I would certainly appreciate that- now I must see where these children are.”

  Emily activated a window and gave a 'locate' command. The supervisor computer pinged the appropriate locater pendants, triangulated their position and aimed the nearest camera. A group of children were feeding pieces of fruit through the wire of the breeding cages to the birds. “See- there is your young one feeding a Galah- she is doing well for ship-raised. They often have trouble adapting to planet life.”

  “I have a feeling that that one would make herself at home anywhere.”

  ***

  Jenny was gingerly passing pieces of fruit through the wire to the raucous birds, while the other children encouraged her. Wayne's last words came back to her; 'This undercover lark can be a bit of a drag, but try to make the best of it and have fun where you can. We all go on about having a childhood again, knowing what we know now- you are going to get that chance, so make the most of it.' She gave a laugh at the antics of the Cockatoos and the Lorikeets, and then exclaimed to the other children, “This is FUN.”

  ***

  Wayne had covered about thirty kilometers by noon and was at the top of a small hill overlooking the settlement. He had taken a survival vest from his gig, and now took a break and drank from a water bottle, scanning the surrounds with a small pair of pocket binoculars. Whoever picked the site had done a great job- this was a prime piece of country- a great place to grow up. He hadn't realized how much he missed wide open space and the quiet of a near empty countryside. But he knew he wouldn't be living on a starship forever- just another 21-22 years or so. Hardly any time at all and it's not that it was a bad life anyway. Wayne was always one to make the best of the circumstances he was in.

  He checked his tablet for messages and added shock field generators to the list of equipment that he reckoned this settlement needed. His quick survey traveling through the station had found a few things lacking. The bounty money he was due for 'rescuing' Jenny would cover most of those and he could always use more good investments. With a few taps on his tablet, he ordered the 'Fury' to move overhead and scan the station with its deep-penetrating radar. A good groundwater supply would help the station- the land looked right for it and he would hire a drilling contractor before they left if the ship confirmed the water was there. Small settlements always had more on their 'To Do' lists than they could afford and even with the credit coming in, you still had to find the equipment out here. He had the push to get it on-site.

  He decided he had seen enough for now and using his tablet again, ordered his gig to travel on auto to his location. There was a fine looking swimming hole in that river, just downstream from the station and the day was getting hotter. He hoped they would have beer here, and then laughed out loud at his thought. This was an AUSTRALIAN planet!

  ***

  After three days of R&R in the hot Yalumba sun, it was time to leave. The new subspace tractor had been fitted to the freighter and the chief engineer had pronounced it ready for the next long leg of their journey- a five week drag to New Chicago, on the edge of the sector know as 'The Inner Circle' of the Empire- the worlds settled in the first three centuries of colonization. There they would off-load all their cargo and make arrangements to sell the prize ship, then once restocked, head back to Abilene for a month's leave for the crew. Then it would be back into hostile space to do what they did so well.

  Jenny put on a fine display of tears at Lillian's leaving, as would be expected of her. Lillian had given Jenny her Free Company ring on a chain, to wear as a pendant until such time as it would fit a finger. “This means that you are ALWAYS a member of our crew now and we never forget our own- nobody else may ever wear this ring unearned and you will find when you get older that it opens many doors otherwise closed- not that this means much to you now. Take care and I will be back this way when I can.” Lillian hugged her a last time and stepped into the hatchway and waved goodbye. The shuttle's strobes started and the small crowd moved back as the grav drive engaged. Unlike a civilian shuttle, this military model shot straight up as the pilot steadily increased the gain on the drive.

  If anyone thought their battle-hardened surgeon's tears were out of place, they kept their thought to themselves. They could be the next one in her surgery being sewn up- the surgeon had a long memory and sutures could hurt more than they had too.

  ***

  Cockatoo River Mission

  15 years later.

  Jenny had indeed enjoyed her time at the mission- and her second childhood. To all around, she settled into mission life easily. She found that there was very little acting required, as this was a great time and place for a child to grow up in. Studious and a self-starter, she was soon left to study at her own pace, rapidly working through the small schools curriculum and moving on to more advanced subjects. She developed an interest in outdoor pursuits that would go a ways towards explaining her enhanced body- swimming, long distance running, hunting, athletics and gymnastics. With her adult mind in a child's body, it was natural to become a leader amongst the children, who she mentored and steered though the often hard path of being an orphan.

  At eight years old, the gymnastics instructor- a retired Marine Blademaster- saw a great potential in her for unarmed and armed combat. All children were instructed in the arts of self-defense, but Jenny, after copying the actions of the older girls, was permitted to start training several years earlier than normal. On reaching her adulthood at eighteen, she was close to earning her Blademaster's rank- just needing the necessary combat experience to achieve this. It was in the areas of all matters martial that she had really excelled, rapidly rising through the ranks of the local school cadets to district commander by age fourteen- the Empire and their allies recognized ability ahead of age or family. Under her leadership, the Mission cadet class- always popular- was taken to a new level. Unlike their predecessors back in the 20th century, these cadets did much more than drill and a smattering of military training. They were at the level of late 20th century regular army light infantry- of the more professional armies of old Earth.

  'Wotan's Fury' and crew regularly appeared in the skies, visiting Yalumba every year or two, often on the way back to the Imperial 'Inner circle' cluster, loaded with loot. The Free Company was to take another two of the great mega-ships and a score of lesser craft prize, although none with a cargo like that of the first. With dozens of navel vessels destroyed by Jamieson's raiders, the Crows were forced to withdraw from this sector and use their precious battleships to escort convoys of freighters passing near this zone.

  On Jenny's sixteenth birthday (based on apparent age and the date of her arrival), the Free Company appeared in their skies. They were about to move sectors to the outer world of Helzin- a fabulously rich new world laden with valuable minerals, where they had accepted an Imperial commission to assist in the unification of the planet, as a condition to its admittance to the Empire. Their mission would be to keep other opportunists who might exploit the up-coming conflict out- along with a few other projects on the secret list.

  After loading provisions, Jenny and a select group from her cadet class were invited to take a short trip around the system. After taking a turn at the helm of a 150,000 tonne state-of-the-art heavy destroyer ('Fury' was in reality a cruiser, but Free Companies were not supposed to have such vessels.) Jenny's path was set.

  She would be headed for the Imperial Navy, via the elite War Academy.

  Nothing less would do.

  On her return, she applied for a Colonial scholarship- supported by the Mission staff, the province aristocrat, Sir Fordson and her Cadet Cadre officer. This was provisionally approved by local recruiting, subject to satisfactory completion of a tour with local forc
es. Knowing what she was up against at the War Academy, the local militia had her posted into the elite Puckapunyal Bushrangers at the minimum age of seventeen years, for scout training.

  After a few short months in the searing outback, she had gained the grudging respect of the crack light infantry troopers, who had run off their share of well-connected wannabes seeking the badge of an elite unit. By age eighteen she had passed the torturous pre-entry and was nearly finished her initial advanced training. At three months short of reaching nineteen years old, she had completed her Jungle and Arctic warfare training and was badged into the regiment at the rank of Trooper.

  On her nineteenth birthday, her acceptance into the War Academy was confirmed, subject to satisfactorily completing a tour on active duty on old Earth and a period of six weeks leave, prior to transport arriving, was granted.

  Two weeks after returning to the Cockatoo River mission, the event she had been waiting for these firteen years happened.

  ***

  The sun was on the way down as Jenny packed water and trail rations into a small pack, along with a chameleon ghillie. By a non-coincidence (one arranged by Wayne Jamieson) Emily, Jim and their youngest child had taken a jumpbug across planet to visit their old friend Shannon Antares at the 'Second Chance' settlement. This removed any shred of doubt in her mind that it would happen tonight. The stations computer almanac also showed the moons in the optimal position for a 0200 attack.

  She had given the reason for her overnight hunt as a nest of Yabbies out past the gum grove to the west of the station. This native pest was a creature similar too, but tougher than, a Terran Armadillo. Its powerful mandibles could wreak havoc on crop roots- its food source, so they were hunted continuously to keep them from becoming established near the vines. They were a nocturnal burrowing creature and, while deaf, were very sensitive to the vibrations of approaching footsteps.

  They called for a big-bore and long-range rifle able to penetrate their armored caprice. Jenny had just the weapon- a custom-modified ten mm Remington sporting rifle, rifled to shoot 25 gram slugs at subsonic velocities. This silenced weapon was topped by a variable powered day/night sight- an old-fashioned model without ranging laser or ballistics computer. Jenny didn't need them. Over the years she had measured and memorized the distance between every significant landmark for many kilometers around the mission. Likewise, the ballistics table for her rifles load was firmly committed to memory. In her pockets were 60 rounds of full metal-jacketed 'Yabbie Busters', along with 40 rounds of ‘specials’ hand-loaded by Wayne's master armourer. These miniature warheads would easily penetrate a shuttle's hull, a stone wall or most light armour. Half of them were subsonic and matched the ballistics of Jenny's silent load, while the other twenty were full-powered penetrators. Not that accurate out of this rifle, but there was no taking cover from these.

  She wore a standard utility knife- a marine of the 19-20th century would recognize it as a K-bar, and her Batik knife, which she always wore on her left side. She was dressed as she always was, for the local bush. Just as she had equipped herself for a hundred other hunting trips.

  On her way out, she told the duty warden of her plans for an overnight hunt and reminded her that the cadets would have musketry drill at 0700, before the heat of the day and that she would be back to supervise that. The warden acknowledged the message and wished her good hunting. Jenny walked briskly off into the night, breaking into a trot once she had crossed the swing-bridge over the Cockatoo. She traveled fast over familiar ground and was soon in her first hide- these hunting hides had been positioned over the years on points suited to watch the most likely approaches to the mission. She took a drink from a water flask- a collapsible canteen that wouldn't slosh when moving and ate a bar of chocolate. That done, she took her service pistol from her pack and attached the holster and magazine pouch to her belt.

  Now the hardest part.

  Waiting.

  ***

  Jenny waited at her LUP. All the time the words of Wayne echoed through her head. “Take the lighter first- THEN defend the Mission. We need more confirmed information on who is behind these raids- then you may defend the Mission as you see fit.”

  The mission goal was never in doubt. The number of survivors was.

  And exactly who those survivors would be.

  Wayne had told her what was the fate of all those at the mission without their intervention. The adults would be implanted with docillation chips and sent to the mines- the girls would be sold as sex slaves- the reason for this raid was to take these extremely valuable and very marketable slaves. The raids had been very professional, small and infrequent- not enough to push the Empire to war, as there was no firm proof as to who was behind them- whatever they may suspect. He believed that naval intelligence could glean enough information from the landing craft and a few captives. All she had to do was fight a company to a standstill and buy the time for the local forces to mount a rescue.

  What he had left unsaid was that some of the girls and staff of the Mission would have to become martyrs in order to spark the Empire into action against the Crow hegemony- the reason for his team being here…

  ***

  Jenny had done all she could to ready the mission. By planning a range shoot for the early morning, the cadets would have their weapons handy and magazines loaded. Many of the older girls also had hunting and sporting rifles, shotguns and pistols in their rooms- as did all the adults, but their attackers would know that and no doubt go in hard. She had several ideas on how to give the mission a little advance warning...

  At 0130hrs, the first sign of an imminent attack. Her comm set went dead, as a kinetic weapon smashed through the communication satellite that served this region. Now they were cut off from their nearest help. On a colony of this size, the failure of the satellite would not be acted on for some time- and it could be hours before anyone figured out that there was a deliberate attack underway- somewhere on a huge continent. No doubt the drop ship would be jamming the local backup radio. Another reason to take the ship.

  With her enhanced hearing and vision, Jenny spotted the near silent approach of the lighter, which came in low from the uninhabited eastern plains. She pulled the ghillie over her and watched the lighter land in the spot she had selected as the site that she would mount a raid from. Troops poured out from the rear hatch and moved off immediately, while the slave handlers milled about letting the troops get well ahead before following. They were acting as porters, carrying all the restraints and equipment, plus spare ammunition and supplies for the troops. As they moved off, she started crawling into a position to see into the lighter, through the open rear hatch. There were four guards and two flight crew to take out. The flight crew obviously pulled rank and ordered the security detail out of the ship, while they enjoyed a probably forbidden cigarette. The security detail moved around to the front of the ship to sneak a smoke themselves. It looked like the real professionals were in the raiding party, which made the task actually harder. If they had spread out like proper sentries, she could have easily taken them one by one.

  She started the mental process that activated her enhanced reactions and strength. Jenny would now be thinking, reacting and moving about four times faster than a normal human. She shouldered the rifle and took careful aim. At just over a hundred meters away, the silenced rifle went totally unheard over the insect life and the heavy bullet slammed into the side of the pilot, destroying his lungs and heart. Less than ¼ of a second later the co-pilot was also dead on his feet, shot just below the ear, severing his brain-stem. Now Jenny started stalking the group of four guards, who were oblivious to the carnage in the cargo hold. Moving slowly to get the best from her chameleon suit, Jenny crept to within meters of the group and shot the man on the far side of the group through the face. They instinctively looked to their fallen member and in that time she had put down her rifle and charged in with a knife in each hand.

  Her two blades stabbed into a pair of necks, cutting th
rough to the spine, severing arteries and veins as she jerked them free. The sole survivor tried to bring his slung rifle up as she slammed a boot into his crotch, then brain-stabbed him with her Batik, using her enhanced strength to drive the heavy blade near to the hilt, before ripping it free. The curved pistol-grip handle on this ancient design was perfect for this stabbing attack, giving the extra purchase to free the blade. A quick check that all were dead, then she gathered up their ammunition and a pair of rifles, which she would cache along the way. Now to make sure the ship stayed grounded.

  Entering the ship, she closed the ramp behind her and reloaded with armour piercing rounds. Taking care to fit earplugs, she emptied the rifle into the ships grav drive controller module. This lighter was going nowhere without a major refit- and all the computers plus the information they contained would be undamaged.

  A quick search of the ship revealed a set of night vision binoculars- several generations of technology behind even the colonies older equipment- but they would suffice. She put them into her pack and left through the small side hatch. Heading parallel to the attackers, she reached a small knoll about 850 meters from the Mission. Crawling up the reverse slope, she took out the binoculars, taking care to check that they were set to 'passive'. As with all their equipment, Crow gear consisted of monkey-copies of old Imperial models and the controls, while unreadable, worked the same.

  The auxiliaries were lying up on the other side of the river, waiting for the command to advance, while the assaulter's were in position and ignoring the gates, about to breach the wall on the side of the staff accommodation. That made sense, she thought- take out the biggest threat in the opening seconds and seizing the girls would be a walk in the park. She hoped they would think that, anyway. Jenny knew those girls would fight for their lives and at least sell themselves dear.

  She brought up the rifle and adjusted the scope. This was a long shot for the slow-moving slug, which had a trajectory like a rainbow over these distances, but she had practiced at exactly this range and the target was large. The designer of the Mission building had put in a feature from the distant past- a bell-tower- and a bell tower needed a bell. Jenny sighted on the bronze bell and fired. She saw the bell rock well before the loud 'DONG' reached her- and then the fight was on.