PREDATORY PRACTICES
A Tech Infantry Novella
by
Edward Stasheff & Marcus Johnston
Copyright © 2011

 

Chapter 22: Trade Secrets
(click here for galactic map)

 

Heth had been floating down the Avarice's corridors for hours, lost in thought.  He knew Varrless was up to something… he just didn't know what, or how, or why.  He'd been going over and over what few pieces of the riddle he had in his mind, trying to figure it all out.  What did Varrless want with Miu, anyway?  True, she was a gorgeous kitten, but with Varrless's assets he could buy almost any female he wanted—or several!

Was it part of his offensive against the Miao clan?  Unlikely… he'd already thrown Miao Mercantile into chaos by "disappearing" Yawr, after all.  Was he doing it all just to punish Heth for strong-arming Varrless into submitting the Federation non-aggression pact to the K'Nes Llan Executive Board?  Heth doubted it.  Five million credits was a lot of money for petty personal revenge.  The Varrlesses didn't become the wealthiest clan in the K'Nes Llan by being spendthrifts.

Heth remembered being threatened by Varrless to stay out of his way.  Or what? Heth had challenged Varrless.  You'll attempt a hostile takeover of Miao Mercantile?  You're rich, but you're not that rich!

Varrless had given him a predatory grin.  Who said anything about Miao Mercantile?

Was he talking about MIRADI?  It was the only thing that made sense, but… why did Varrless suddenly want Miu's company?  It was a complete reversal of his previous economic policy—true, a few months ago he'd tried to buy a controlling interest in MIRADI—but when Miu wouldn't sell her majority shares, Varrless Financial suddenly pulled all their investment capital out and encouraged other investors to do the same… only Miu had never understood why.  Varrless never provided an explanation.  And he would have driven MIRADI out of business completely if it hadn't been for the Jurvain sales of…

Impossibarium.

The more Heth thought about it, the more sense it made.  It was the only thing Miu had that Varrless couldn't get elsewhere—MIRADI was the sole supplier of Impossibarium.  And, now that Heth thought of it, it was after Varrless had pulled his funding for MIRADI that he offered to buy the Impossibarium patent from Miu—for a very generous price, yes, but it was still a strong-arm tactic.  Heth remembered Miu wondering aloud why a bank wanted a material science patent in the first place… and it was still a good question.  What did Varrless want with Impossibarium anyway?  What made it so special?

Well… Heth knew that.  Of course he knew.  He and Miu were the only ones who did.

He'd struck a deal with Miu all those months ago—if he could provide her company with a revolutionary new material, she'd enter into a reproductive partnership with him.  How else could a runt like him from a pariah trading house have gotten a brilliant and beautiful young kitten to merge with him?  Miu didn't believe Heth could deliver, but MIRADI was struggling to stay in the black, and she was desperate for new revenue streams… so she agreed.  Heth surprised her when, following rumors, he managed to hunt down a scrap of alien shrapnel at the site of an old space battle.

Miu hadn't invented Impossibarium.  MIRADI had reverse-engineered it.  From a sample Heth gave her.

And, now that he thought about it, that's when all his trouble started.  For some reason, he'd been framed as a contract-breaker by the Holy Terran Empire—by McNeilly no less, the very Horadrim who was working with Varrless!—although Heth had never been able to figure out why.  A memory suddenly floated back to Heth—something McNeilly had said in the spaceport.  You? McNeilly had sneered at Heth.  That was never about you, you egotist!  But… how could ruining Heth's reputation possibly be about anyone else?  If not him, then who?

Heth froze as the answer hit him like a plasma bolt.  It was about Miu.  It had always been about Miu.

Heth's mind began racing as all the pieces fell into place.  Miu dissolved their merger because McNeilly framed Heth.  MIRADI had spun off from Miao Mercantile back into an independent company—and was suddenly much, much more economically vulnerable than when it had been a subsidiary of sixth-richest clan in the K'Nes Llan.  And that was when Varrless Financial began their clandestine campaign of economic terror against Miu and MIRADI.  Despite having a rare and valuable new product, MIRADI suddenly began losing investors left and right for reasons that had never been adequately explained—until now.  Varrless had wanted to bankrupt MIRADI—so that he could buy up their assets at barging-bin prices!

But Heth, by negotiating the Jurvain deal, had unwittingly foiled Varrless's plans.  And a hostile takeover wouldn't work because Miu would never, ever sell off her controlling shares in the company she had painstakingly built up from nothing.  So Varrless was trying a different strategy—to merge with MIRADI under the guise of a reproductive partnership—and all just to get his paws on Impossibarium.  He didn't value Miu.  He never had.

Which left two unanswered questions: Why did Varrless want Impossibarium so badly, and why in the stars was the Holy Terran Empire of all people trying to help him get it?

A chill washed over Heth as a nasty thought suddenly occurred to him.  What if it's the other way round?  Was Varrless helping the apes gain access to Impossibarium weaponry?  If so, well… that would be catastrophic for the long-term futures of the K'Nes race.  But why is the stars would the head of the K'Nes Llan help arm the apes?  Varrless had more to lose than any K'Nes alive!  It just didn't make sense.  There was something else going on, some crucial piece of information Heth just didn't have to unlock the mystery.

Heth couldn't shake the feeling that Impossibarium lay at the heart of all this—or more specifically, the mysterious alien artifact it was based on.  What was it?  Where had it come from?  Heth needed answers… and knew where to find them.  The urban legend that led him to the alien shrapnel had been told to him by his business associate, Rachel O'Reilly.  She, in turn, had heard it from her father—who, luckily, just happened to be on Heth's ship right now.

He needed to talk to Xinjao O'Reilly.  Now.

 

 

It took Heth quite a while to find Xinjao O'Reilly.  He had apparently never been on a K'Nes ship before, let alone a super-freighter like the Avarice.  He was, at heart, an engineer, and was acting like a kitten in a fish market.  He'd spent nearly all his spare time poking around the ship's systems and driving the K'Nes Engineering Administrator slowly insane (who had on more than one occasion demanded that Heth get the red-pelted ape out of his engine room before he gave the fat human a guided tour of the nearest airlock).  So it came as no surprise when Heth finally found the old cyborg studying the Avarice's gravity drive system.

"M. O'Reilly, I'm so glad I found you," Heth said.  "I was wondering if you could help me with something?"

"Sure, whatcha need?" he replied.  "By the way, this gravity drive of yours?  It some sorta Jurvain hybrid?"

"It's K'Nes technology, I assure you," Heth said, hiding his exasperation.  "Although Emperor Horrath the Great did originally obtain hyperspace technology from the Jurvain, so I'm sure there are some similarities."

"That explains the differences."  O'Reilly nodded, satisfied.  "I've seen Jurvain drives before, y'know, but this is definitely different.  If I didn't know better, I'd say some of these parts look like they came from a jumpgate."

"Yes… well…"  Heth shrugged and changed the subject.  "I was wondering what you could tell me about a battle from your Third Civil War."

O'Reilly glanced at Heth.  His smile faded.  "I'd… rather not.  I did a lot of stuff I'm not proud of back then."

"I understand, M. O'Reilly," Heth nodded, "but I'm afraid this is rather important for me and my clan.  Consider it a small price to pay for saving your life and reuniting you with your daughter."

Xinjao winced.  He knew emotional blackmail when he heard it—but that didn't make it any less effective.  "Alright, alright.  What do you wanna know?  Operation Foliage Gear?  Battle of Phoenix?  Task Force David?"

"Actually," Heth said, "I was wondering what you could tell me about the Battle of Mars?"

"Oh."  O'Reilly shrugged, relieved.  "Sorry, I wasn't in that battle.  I was a bit busy in the Phoenix system at the time."

"Yes, but certainly you know of the battle," Heth said.  "I'd appreciate you telling me what you do know."

Xinjao shrugged.  "Well… not much to tell, really.  Task Force 54 under Admiral Karl von Shrakenberg was destroyed by the Resistance fleet under Chuck Coppinger—even though their fleet was much smaller."

"Yes, I'm familiar with the basics," Heth said, "but how did the Resistance defeat the task force?"

"Fooled them with drones," O'Reilly answered.  "Led them into a trap, then ambushed them."  His face darkened.  "Of course, they were only able to do that because a particularly traitorous InSec mole leaked the Fed's battle plan to the Resistance."  Xinjao shook his head sadly.  "And I used to consider that bastard Gergenstein my best friend!  Can you believe that?  Turned out he was just spying on me the whole damn time."  O'Reilly sighed.  "What can I say?  He had me fooled.  Guess you can never tell with some people, huh?"

Heth briefly wondered if that was the same Captain Gergenstein he knew, then dropped the thought from his mind and continued his questioning.  "Yes, that's the official story, I'm sure… but it isn't the real story, is it?"

Xinjao shot Heth a suspicious glance.  "Sure it is.  The rest are just 'net rumors and conspiracy theories."

"Not according to your daughter Rachel," Heth said.  "And she learned it from you, I believe."

O'Reilly rolled his eyes and shook his head.  "Dammit, I told her to keep that in the family!  That's dangerous information, man!  What the hell was she thinking?"

"I don't believe she was," Heth explained.  "We were celebrating, you see—well, she was celebrating, I was trying to sell her on an exclusive shipping arrangement with the K'Nes—and she'd had a bit too much wine.  She'd just closed her first big deal between Zivat Ram Agricultural and Miao Mercantile, after all—a shipment of 'mat-za' for your 'pay-sock' holiday, I believe.  I understand Rachel got a performance bonus out of it—and, eventually, a promotion.  Quite impressive for an entry-level management employee, actually.  You should be quite proud of your cub, O'Reilly."  Xinjao's face blanched, then turned thoughtful, as if the idea had never occurred to him before.  I'll never understand humans, Heth thought.  "At any rate, she began telling me some of her parents' war stories, including the Battle of Mars.  She mentioned you had an… 'inside source,' shall we say?"

O'Reilly nodded his head sadly.  "Erich von Shrakenberg, God rest his soul.  Mars was the only blemish on his otherwise perfect battle record.  Look, I know what people say about him these days, but it's not true—I knew him, he was a friend of mine.  Okay, he got a bit… overzealous toward the end there, sure, what with blowing up Earth's moon and all that—but he was a good man, and a patriot."  Xinjao sighed.  "He was also one of the few survivors from the Battle of Mars.  He told me all about it at the victory party after the Battle of Avalon."  Xinjao chuckled, shaking his head at a fond memory.  "I'd never seen him drunk before—but he was plastered that night!  Anyway, he told me the Resistance were secretly controlled by Internal Security—and InSec brought seven battlecrusiers to the Battle of Mars.  Powerful ships.  Hell, Task Force 54 only managed to damage one of them before they were destroyed—and they had a Star Control Ship!"  O'Reilly looked Heth in the eye.  "Anyway, I'd keep all this to yourself if I were you.  Trust me, the Horadrim worked pretty hard to bury this, and you don't want to cross them.  Leave them alone, and they'll leave you alone."

"The Horadrim?"  Heth's whiskers twitched, confused.  "Why would they bother to cover this up?"

"Well, the Horadrim are very protective of their technology," Xinjao explained, "especially their ships."

It took a second to click in Heth's mind—then his jaw dropped.  "You mean those InSec ships were—"

"Horadrim battlecruisers," Xinjao nodded.  "So Rachel left that part out, huh?  Good girl.  Anyway, yeah, for reasons I've never been able to figure out, the Horadim let Internal Security use some of their ships.  InSec tried to study them, of course, but there was a limit to how much they could figure out.  Later on the Fed used their research to try building a tunnel drive ship during the Vin Shriak War, but apparently it wasn't even close to…"

O'Reilly blathered on about hyperspace accelerator rings, but Heth had stopped listening.  This shocking new information turned everything he thought he knew on its head.  If he'd know the alien shrapnel he'd hunted down over Mars was Horadrim biometal, he'd have thought twice before giving it to Miu to reverse-engineer into Impossibarium… but what was done was done.

More importantly, why was Varrless helping the Holy Terran Empire—led by a Horadrim—acquire Impossibarium?  They already had it!  And a superior product at that!  Impressive as Impossibarium might be, it was only, at best, a crude imitation.  So why did the Empire want it?

Because, Heth suddenly realized, they don't want anyone else having their technology… even cheap knock-offs.  Heth began pacing, tail whipping as his mind raced.  The Empire wasn't trying to obtain Impossibarium—they were trying to bury it!  But Impossibarium was the only thing keeping MIRADI afloat, and Miu, owning controlling shares in her company and the Impossibarium patent, would only let them have it over—

Over her dead body.

Heth froze.  Miu had no living relatives.  She'd never known her father, her mother had sold her cubs to the Tor Army before overdosing on nepeta, and Miu was the only one of her littermates that had survived the Second Vulthra War.  She had no kittens, so if she died, her assets would be inherited by… her mate.

"Sky Father above!" Heth whispered as the horror dawned on him.  "Varrless is going to kill Miu!"

O'Reilly paused in his lecture about liquid neutronium coils.  "Huh?  What?  Who's Miu?"

But Heth had dropped to all fours and was sprinting down the corridors to the Avarice's control center, his mind and body racing.  Miu's life was in danger—and she didn't even know it.  But Varrless won't kill Miu until after they sign their Articles of Procreation on Purrfang, Heth thought, which buys me some time…  He inflated and flew along the shafts and corridors, freeing his paws to yank out his datapad and open a comlink.  "Rameth!  How fast can we get to Purrfang?"

"Purrfang, boss?  I thought we were headed for—"

"Purrfang!" Heth roared.  "How soon!?"

"Uh…"  Rameth paused to run the numbers.  "Eight days, give or take.  Why?"

"Lay in the course, now!"  Heth cut the connection before Rameth could argue.  He deflated and continued sprinting toward the control center, calculating travel times in his head.  Miu left for Capital Hall tomorrow, and from Urrin it would take her seven days to reach Purrfang… but it would take Heth eight days to get there.

All Heth could do now was race to the K'Nes homeworld…and pray he got there in time.

 

 

But, curse the stars, he still had cargo to deliver.

When the Avarice finally arrived in the Phoenix system three days later, Heth ordered Rameth to use the gravity drive to jump into the Phoenix system right outside the hyper limit of the main colony on Phoenix II—he didn't care who knew about the super-freighter's capabilities anymore, he only cared about shaving as many hours off their travel time as possible.

But Heth wanted to bang his head against the wall in frustration when he discovered that Phoenix, too, was infested with Red Spring rebellions.  It shouldn't have surprised him, in retrospect—Phoenix was the former capitol of the Ministry of Public Safety, and its population didn't take well to Chief Minister Ramirez being assassinated mere hours after reunifying with the Federation.  Thankfully, these rebels were Ministry patriots wanting independence, not Cult of the Emperor fanatics wanting to join the Holy Terran Empire.  Even better, Chairman Smythe had recently negotiated a cease-fire on Phoenix by promising to hold new elections for the Federation Senate… although Heth suspected the rebels had agreed to the truce more because of the small flotilla of Earth Fleet warships, fresh from a victory against the Jurvain fleet in the Sarma system, heading toward Phoenix to support the Light Infantry battling the insurgents there.  Like all good venture capitalists, the rebels decided to cut their losses and quit while they were ahead.

The bottom line was that Phoenix was as safe a place as any to drop off his cargo of Federation refugees.  Heth would have been perfectly happy to put the humans in pressure suits and shoot them out the airlock in the general direction of the planet without even slowing down the super-freighter… but he had to settle for the transit antenna.  Its operating energy may cost more than shuttle fuel in this particular case, but a transit portal made for a much, much faster delivery.  He simply couldn't spare the hours it would take for shuttles to ferry humans down to the planet below and return.

There was some good news: Heth was pleasantly surprised to see the Phoenix-Avalon hypergate was already gone, presumably already on its way to the Andersvald system.  Evidently, Chairman Smythe really was serious about getting the anti-Horadrim bioweapon as soon as possible—which was convenient, as Heth had the perfect means of delivering it to him.

"Little Joey has mismanaged this war from the beginning," Edwina Smythe declared to Heth as the refugees milled around in the transit bay, waiting for Kirrp to open the transit portal.  "But I'm afraid that doesn't surprise me.  Oh, Joey's an excellent little soldier, to be sure, but he's not a politician.  Still, now that I'm here, I'm sure we can turn things around.  I've already got several ideas I can set Joey to working on straight away."

Heth was suddenly glad he wouldn't be around to witness the family reunion—he suspected it would not be a pleasant one.  "Do give him my best wishes, Edwina.  Oh, and do be sure to give the Chairman this as soon as you can."  He handed her a clearplaz vial of saline solution containing the microscopic reprogrammed Horadrim nanobots.  "Not only did I promise it to him, but it's in our contract."

"Oh yes, of course," Edwina replied, apprising the vial with a practiced eye.  "Uh… what is it, exactly?"

"A sample of H'Iss Nepetorrah, one of the rarer and more expensive liquors in K'Nes space, made from fermented and distilled nepeta."  Heth had the lie ready and waiting; he knew an opportunist when he saw one, and he trusted a pyramid scheme more than Edwina Smythe.  "I warned your son that humans think it tastes like soap," Heth said with a sigh, "but he's fond of his scotch, and is apparently a collector of spirits."

"One of Joey's vices, yes," Edwina agreed, nodding.  "He inherited it from his late father, I'm afraid."

Heth excused himself as soon as diplomatically possible to go harass Kirrp about opening the transit portal as soon as possible.  Frustratingly, she didn't seem to have her full attention on the task, given that she kept sneaking glances at Narrah and licking her fangs (which was complicated by Narrah occasionally glancing back).  Given the decline in productivity during the mating season, Heth marveled that the K'Nes economy didn't fall into a cyclical recession every eleven years.  Finally, though, Kirrp managed to get the transit portal established with a bright flash, and the hundreds of humans began moving through the shimmering disk.

Unfortunately, the process was slowed by everyone feeling the need to say goodbye.  Abbot MacAries and Narrah, who had developed a curious friendly rivalry during their time on the Avarice, paused for an awkward farewell.  The Abbot blessed Narrah (which only seemed to confuse the old cat), then held out his hand.  Unfortunately, Narrah misunderstood the gesture and, instead of shaking it, placed a business card in the Abbot's palm.  Evidently, Narrah hadn't been exaggerating about knowing little of humans outside of how to kill them.

The O'Reilly family's farewells lasted the longest, with Rachel thanking Heth for saving her parents, her parents thanking him for saving Rachel, her mother Leisa insisting Heth must visit them someday for something called "shabbos," and Xinjao promising that if Heth ever needed anything—anything—he had only to contact Xinjao and ask.  Heth strained to hide his impatience as he passed out business cards and promises to keep in touch.  Frankly, he had more pressing matters—like saving Miu from death at the paws of Varrless and that psychopathic Horadim, McNeilly.  Finally, he gave a last parting pleasantry and practically pushed the O'Reillys through the transit portal.

The second the portal closed, Heth whipped out his datapad and opened a comlink to the Avarice's command center.  "Charge the gravity drive, Rameth.  Cross into hyperspace as soon as we can.  Set a course for Purrfang."

 

 

The next five days were torture for Heth.  His mind and body screamed at him to do something, anything… but all he could do was wait.  Eighty-four hours of much-needed sleep helped to pass the time.

Heth did everything he could think of to cut their travel schedule.  He ordered Rameth to push the Avarice as fast as it would go through hyperspace.  They bypassed realspace completely, saving time by jumping from one hyperspace lane to the next at each system.  They didn't stop to trade at any point along their route—much to the displeasure of Heth's crew.

He tried to warn Miu, tried to reach her in any way he could—by every communication channel, through every mutual contact, using every smuggler's trick he knew… but, true to her word, Miu didn't respond.  She knew him too well, knew all his tricks, and was prepared for them this time.  Heth didn't know if she was actually blocking his messages, receiving but ignoring them, or getting them and refusing to reply.  Heth hoped it was the last option—that way she'd have some warning, at least.  Then again, Heth thought, if I heard a bizarre story from a desperate ex-mate involving secret technology, alien spies, and government conspiracies… would I believe it?

By the time the Avarice crossed through the hypergate into the Purrfang system, Heth was in the super-freighter's command center obsessively pouring over the itineraries of every passenger liner traveling from Urrin to Purrfang, trying to figure out which one Miu might be on and when she would arrive.

"Boss?"  Rameth nudged him.  "We're half an hour from geosynchronous orbit over Awuon on Purrfang."

"Yes… an hour late and a credit short."  Heth scrapped his claws against the console, frustrated.  "All the flights from Urrin to Purrfang have already arrived; the last one docked a few hours ago.  Unless Miu missed her flight—which I doubt, she's far too punctual—she has to be planet-side by now… and probably has been for hours."  He didn't know when Miu and Pirr were scheduled to sign the Articles of Procreation.  Perhaps they already had… and Miu was already dead.

"Aye, true."  Rameth shrugged and nodded, his black braids swirling.  "I know Awuon's a big city, boss, but maybe you can still catch up with her.  Which spaceport did she arrive at?  Horrath Memorial is the biggest, but there's also the space elevator to Toraah orbital transfer station, not to mention a bunch of private—"

Heth's ears tuned Rameth out; he was all too aware that he had no idea where Miu was.  But he didn't need to; he knew where she was going: Varrless's office, inside Capital Hall.  If Heth could just get there first, maybe—maybe—there was a chance he could intercept her.  He turned to Rameth.  "What time is it in Awuon?"

"Locally?"  Rameth adjusted the ship's clock from Commercial Standard to K'Nes time.  "Uh… 108:73."

"Nighttime?" Heth asked, puzzled.  "But then Capital Hall's closed…"  He paused a moment, thinking.  Purrfang was tidally locked into orbit around the gas giant Sky Father, which in turn orbited the sun Sky Mother.  As Sky Father spun on its axis, its moon Purrfang spun with it.  When Purrfang passed behind the massive gas giant, it blocked out all sunlight, plunging the moon into total darkness.  The long, long nights lasted over eighty-six hours.  Dawn wouldn't come to Purrfang for another sixty-four hours—over two Commercial Standard days later.  Heth scowled, puzzled at the timing, then froze.  "Sky Father above…" he breathed.  "I've got to get to Capital Hall, now!"  He spun around in midair and flew out the hatch to the maze of corridors and shafts beyond.

"Boss!  Wait!"  Rameth shot after Heth, easily catching up with him.  "What's the hurry?  Why not just wait until Capital Hall reopens in the morning?"

"Because Varrless and Miu won't wait!"  At Rameth's baffled expression, Heth let out an impatient sigh and elaborated.  "If they were going to wait until the usual business hours, Miu wouldn't have caught such an early flight—time is money, and she's far too busy to sit on her paws waiting for two Standard days!  No, if she left Urrin when she did, it was because they're scheduled to sign the Articles of Procreation shortly after she arrives on Purrfang.  Yes, it's nighttime, after business hours, but it's not too late yet—there's still plenty of time for Varrless to do some after-hours dealing in his Capital Hall office without drawing suspicion… but when it's officially closed, and there are no witnesses!  That's why I have to get there as soon as possible!  And I might already be too late!"  For all Heth knew, Varrless had killed Miu by now.

"But boss!" Rameth protested.  "If Capital Hall's closed, how are you going to get in there?"

"I'm still working on that part of the business plan," Heth replied, "and I've got half an hour to figure it out!"

 

 

"THIS IS A FISH-STINKING, SCAT-BRAINED, WORTHLESS ACTION PLAN!" Narrah bellowed into Heth's face.  "YOU ARE GOING TO GET YOURSELF KILLED, RUNT!  AND THEN I'LL BE OUT OF A JOB!"

"And if you try to stop me, you will be out of a job—instantly!" Heth said, hearing steel in his own voice he didn't know he had.  "I'm sorry, Narrah, but you can't talk me out of this.  You won't.  I don't want to terminate you, but I will if I have to."

Heth was half-expecting Narrah to claw his throat out for such insubordination, and was relieved when the old hunter merely glared silently at him instead.  "And what will you do if McNeilly's there, eh?" Narrah finally asked.  "Scat your pants and die?  You've never fought a Horadrim before, cub!"

"Have you?" Heth shot back, squirming into his K'Nes power armor in its recharging station.  When Narrah remained silent, Heth pushed on before the old veteran could think of a comeback.  "That accursed Soul Web of theirs makes every Horadrim a living, breathing suit of power armor.  Going up against one without a suit of your own is pointless—and suicidal!"  Heth sealed the breastplate; the suit automatically activated, powering up.  "That must be why Varrless is having Miu meet him in Capital Hall," Heth continued.  "Next to the Varrless Vault, Capital Hall is the most secure location in K'Nes space—and having Miu meet him to sign a contract after business hours in the First Varrless Bank of Purrfang would raise too many questions.  No weapons are allowed inside Capital Hall, let alone power armor!  Miu will be completely defenseless—she won't stand a chance!"  Heth's armor finished initializing and he stepped off the charging station.  "Besides, Narrah, I need you and your hunters here, just in case of a hostile extraction.  Have you briefed them on the action plan?"

Narrah glanced over at the Miao Mercenaries, climbing into their armor, loading weapons, and not-so-discretely placing bets on whether or not Heth would survive to see the dawn.  "Not yet—haven't had time—but don't worry, boss, they'll be ready when you need them."

"Hopefully I won't need them," Heth said, pulling a gauntlet over his paw and locking it in place on the cuff of his armored sleeve.  "It's just a precaution—but I need to prepare for every possible way this could go wrong.  And if you fail to plan, you plan to fail."  He looked up at Narrah.  "Remember, plasma revolvers, not railguns—something that can burn, not just pierce.  The more damage, the better."

Just then the transit bay hatch rolled aside and Kirrp the technomancer floated in amid a swirl of sparkly blue robes.  Heth looked up.  "Ah, Kirrp, good!  Power up the transit antennae, I need you to form a portal to Capital Hall for me."

"Wha—?  Sorry, Director Heth, I can't.  I'm good, but not that good!" Kirrp scoffed, amused, then launched into a patronizing lecture.  "You see, Capital Hall's security includes a state-of-the-art magitech transit shield around it to prevent corporate espion—"

"I'm aware of that!" Heth growled, pulling his second gauntlet over his paw.  "But I don't have time to take a shuttle!  Just get me right outside Capital Hall and I'll take care of the rest!  Now!"

Kirrp was silent a moment, perhaps taken aback by his vehemence, then shrugged.  "You're the boss."

"If they don't allow armor in Capital Hall," Narrah said, "then how do you plan to get inside wearing that?"

"Because my suit might—might!—be an exception."  Heth slipped the helmet over his ears and locked it into the place on the collar.  "Suit, K'Nes!"  His helmet folded back into the collar; the gauntlets softened into imitation-leather gloves, and the black nanotech armor bubbled and shifted into a colorful waistcoat and breeches.  "Miu specifically designed my armor's stealth suite to conceal its energy emissions, to disguise what it really is… just in case, you know, negotiations with some of the Miao's less reputable business partners broke down or something.  As long as Capital Hall security isn't specifically scanning for it, I should be able to bluff my way past.  I just hope Miu did a good enough job engineering the stealth systems—for her sake."

"Then let me wear it," Narrah growled, "or another hunter with more combat experience, not some entry-level mouse!"

Heth was running out of patience with Narrah's objections.  "I'm the runt of my liter, remember?  I assume you do, since you never stop reminding me of it!"  Heth spread his arms and flicked his tail, looking up at the old veteran.  "Who else could fit in this suit?  No one!  And we can't spare the time to adjust it!"  Heth spun around before Narrah could reply, pointing a claw at his paranormal consultant.  "Kirrp!  For the moon's sake, don't you have those coordinates locked yet?  Stop drooling over Narrah and focus!"

The technomancer peered up at Heth from under the brim of her goofy pointed hat, wearing an expression that was half-irritated and half-mortified.  "Yes, yes, almost ready," she hissed, waving an annoyed paw.

Heth inflated, rising to the center of the Avarice's transit bay, and took a deep breath.  For all his determination, he was still frightened out of his fur.  "I'm an Executive Director of Miao Mercantile now," he mumbled, more to himself than anyone.  "With a little luck, that'll be enough to get me past the door…"

"Alright, I'm going to open up a portal to the lower troposphere, right above the building," Kirrp said.  "You should be able to float down to one of the upper entrances to Capital Hall… in three… two… one…"

A blast of light swirled into a shimmering disk.  Heth was through it before it even finished opening.

 

TO BE CONTINUED...