| From: | "Paul J. Adam" <Shadowtk@********.DEMON.CO.UK> |
|---|---|
| Subject: | Why are we here? |
| Date: | Sun, 3 Jan 1999 19:49:52 +0000 |
>>>>>[TO: Captain L R W Lynch
Just so you know, I briefed the Old Man about why I was aboard. He's not
bothered, he's downright keen in fact.
We're in Singapore right now, and I might get a chance to pick up some
of the Far East Station gossip. I'll pass on what I can.
Oh, yeah, the matelots say I'm not half bad as a shiphandler :)
+++++begin extract: ship's internal monitoring system
A small room, comfortably furnished, with a bar at one end, a dining
table set for eight, and a few easy chairs around the edge. Just an ace
short of being crowded, instead it's comfortable; even cosy.
Two women sit in the chairs, both with the sprawled, REM-busy relaxation
of the jacked-in: an Asian Ork in Royal Navy number-eights, and a blonde
Human in Army working dress with a maroon beret tucked under one
epaulet. The display, on the computer they're sharing, shows a tangle of
multicoloured NTDS symbols, moving at various speeds in a bizarre
pattern: every so often yellow rosettes flare over one unit or another.
Captain Barnes watches the screen with interest, as the blue symbols are
steadily erased from the display, until almost in unison the women jack
out and the display switches to an analysis of the engagement.
"No fair, Quinn, you cheated." Sublieutenant Tibbs protests.
"You were in sight of my shore, I had BM-34 batteries there, it was all
in the brief. Wasn't _my_ fault you forgot about land-based artillery."
Lieutenant the Lady Susan Rodriguez, Baroness Glamis, self-proclaimed
admiral and part-time spy, chuckles. "And with your frigate out of the
picture, the submarines and aircraft can mop up-"
"Let me guess, the Hormuz Gambit?" The Captain enquires. "I fell for
that, too, the first time I played it. It's a good reminder to watch
your flanks and remember the threat from shore."
"She cheats- I mean, she improvises like crazy, sir." Tibbs bounces to
her feet in the presence of the Captain: Quinn does likewise.
"If you're not cheating, you're not trying hard enough." Quinn replies
with her usual maniac grin.
"Quite. How is the Lord High Admiral's nautical education proceeding,
Sublieutenant Tibbs?"
"Well, sir, she's proved she can hold her own on sensors, weapons and
tactics, so I was expecting to concentrate on damage control and ship
handling. Is training her part of my own qualification, sir?"
"Of course." Barnes smiles. "Teaching someone else is a superb way to
really learn a subject. Might I have a word with the Baroness?"
Sublieutenant Tibbs takes the hint at once. "Naturally, sir. I'll check
when the DC training is, and make sure there's a place for her to take
part."
Once the young officer is out of the wardroom, Barnes turns a little
more solemn. "A drink, Lieutenant?"
"Certainly, sir. Scotch, no ice."
The Captain quickly produces a double measure of Talisker for Quinn, and
gin and tonic for himself, before taking a seat beside her. "I'm
becoming increasingly concerned about this secret mission business. Not
about you, you understand, it's remarkably pleasant to have someone so
keen and appreciative aboard. But I would like your version of affairs,
to better understand what's going on."
Quinn sips the whisky. "Well, where to start? The short version is,
there's a very bad guy who's been trying to subvert and control North
America, mostly starting with the UCAS, for about twenty years that we
know of. Due to hard work and a few lucky breaks, his covert network's
been taken out and destroyed, and he's lost another set of national
backers."
"_Another_ set?"
"He used to be affiliated to Tir Taingire, but I gather they saw through
his scheming and kicked him out. Then he came to the UCAS, where he did
a lot of damage before he got careless and got booted. From there he ran
to Aztlan, who had - it seems - been quietly supporting him for some
time. True to form, he promptly formed his own faction which wasn't in
line with Tenochitilan's policy and got kicked out of there too."
"A very resilient individual." Barnes regards his gin and tonic. "He
must have a considerable talent for survival, with so many enemies."
"Well, it doesn't hurt that he bounces from place to place that don't
co-operate well. Tir Taingire don't talk to the UCAS much, and neither
of those are on speaking terms with Aztlan, so there isn't much sharing
of information. Besides, he tends to inveigle himself into the black-ops
business, and _nobody_ likes to admit what they're up to there."
"This is basically what Sir Charles told me. I was hoping for an update
on his current activities."
"Short answer, again? We don't know. But we want to, very much." Quinn
replies after a little thought. "To our knowledge, he's working towards
an astrological date, a conjunction of Pluto with Fomalhaut, due in a
couple of years. He needed... certain magical-type things to happen
before and on that date, and he was working towards doing it covertly.
Now it seems he's given up on quiet and is gearing up to go overt."
Barnes coughs. "An invasion of the UCAS? I don't exactly see how that
would be possible."
"Not directly, no. But if you used a powerful, cunning, self-replicating
species of spirit to assist you..."
"Insects. That's your theory, isn't it? Pendleton hinted at it, but
wouldn't say so outright."
"The Doctor's got close ties to the _invae_. I caught him cutting deals
with the Chicago hive, we know for a fact he created another in the UCAS
that killed or assimilated over two hundred citizens before a combat
team burned it out." Quinn replies. "Some magical intelligence points to
this region. And, guess what? Bugs need hosts, and the slave traders are
reporting a seller's market despite a couple of big grabs. I'd guess
he's up to something, and in this vicinity."
"So you're aboard looking for that activity." Barnes nods. "Right. I'll
make sure you're invited to the social events ashore, then, you can talk
to our Consulate boys and any locals they recommend. Is this going to
affect the ship?"
"If we get a lead, I'd like to check it out, and I'd be much happier if
one of His Majesty's Ships was in the area to give me some fire support
or a dustoff." the Coyote shaman replies.
"It'll be a pleasure, Baroness, believe me." Captain Barnes says firmly.
+++++end extract]<<<<<
-- 1Lt S E Rodriguez <19:46:43/01-03-60>
OC MARDET
HMS Rorke's Drift
