Ravens of Eternity

74 Secrets & Lies

The four test pilots stepped off the Federation frigate and back onto Tartarus Base, the asteroid research station secretly stashed away somewhere in Federation space. They were all in relatively good spirits, Eva especially. Even Redstar had gained some of her exuberance back.

The four of them had originally planned to head straight to their quarters, change into their flightsuits, then head to the lab. However, just as they left the hangar itself, the Admiral intercepted them in her hopper.

They jumped in with their bags on their shoulders, and barely had time to sit down before the hopper quickly sped away. It joined the other vehicles traveling down the base’s main concourse and headed directly towards the Admiral’s lab.

The Admiral had snapped them up rather quickly, almost as though they were getting kidnapped. Redstar couldn’t help but laugh at the situation.

“I know you’re eager to get your project back up and running,” she said, “but maybe we could get a change of clothes first?”

“Right. Of course,” the Admiral replied.

She brought out her datapad then tapped some new commands to the android pilot up front. It quickly acknowledged, and adjusted their route towards their habs.

“Please pardon the rush,” she continued. “While all of you were on leave, my security team passed some of their concerns to me. They’ve alarmed me greatly.”

“Okay, so why’re you telling us this?” asked Redstar. “I mean, you’re the boss of the place. It’s not like you have to tell us anything at all. Not like we would have ever known if you didn’t say anything.”

.....

“Understood. I normally wouldn’t, but this affects all of you. Freya and Raijin especially.”

Eva and Miko looked at each other – why them?

“Please explain,” said Miko. “Why are we most affected?”

The Admiral exhaled deeply. Those security reports had strung her out a great degree. But she held back on the worst aspects of the report diligently. She needed to be careful about what she said, and to whom.

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In fact, the more she talked about it, the larger the security hole became.

“What’s been happening is that we’ve noticed a significant increase in off-base comms and transmissions, in and out. Most are amusing, some are routine, and a handful are outright alarming.”

She gestured at Eva and Miko with a wave.

“A good amount of these outgoing comms are about the both of you. It seems you two have an OmniCast? Well, you’ll be happy to know that you’ve some fans among the flyboys and wrench jockeys here. They share your ‘casts between themselves, their families, and their other friends across the galaxy. And they often speak very highly of you and your background in their messages.”

Eva’s brow furrowed. Although she was happy to get more viewers, she was a little put off by it all. She wasn’t at all used to any degree of fame or popularity, and avoided the spotlight at every turn.

It wasn’t as though she didn’t like the idea of having fans – it was that she didn’t like the feeling of being scrutinized by them. Or by anyone, really.

“What’cha mean background?” she asked. “Is that a refugee thing?”

“I unfortunately don’t know – it’s just what they’re talking about in their messages,” said the Admiral. “Perhaps they’re referring to your training on Mars?”

Eva was taken aback when she realized why they idolized her. She had Sunflower’s burnt Squad Leader patch hung up among her controls. It was up there simply because she wanted to honor her dead friend.

It had ended up in a few shots in a couple of ‘casts. Although it was usually just off in the corner, it was plain for all to see.

So they’re connecting with me since they were cadets once, too?

She didn’t think it would necessarily resonate with anyone. But it turned out that many did.

The few who ended up watching their ‘casts spotted the patch. And for them, it reminded them of those early days, back when things were simple and more carefree. And they remembered the friends they had made, and the friends they had lost.

They immediately understood what sort of trials she had endured, and admired how she had honed herself into a tough and unbeatable pilot.

She was the kind of ace that all pilots dreamt of becoming – resilient, stunning, and lethal.

Miko also had her own admirers, mostly from the engineers and coders on the base. They had seen how expertly she glided through anything electronic, and were awestruck. Her brilliance and quick wit dismantled every barrier in front of her.

And the fact that she was only thirteen literally blew some of their minds.

Those men and women couldn’t help but become enamored with the both of them.

“Now, as you know,” continued the Admiral, “you’re not allowed to record anything here, so I hope you don’t plan to put any of this project up as a ‘Cast.”

Eva and Miko emphatically shook their heads.

“People don’t wanna watch us sit in cores for hours on end and slowly go crazy, so no worries there,” Eva muttered. “But I don’t get it – so they’re chatting a whole lot. Why’s that a bad thing?”

“Secrets stay secret the less people know about its existence in the first place. In order to keep its location a secret, Tartarus base emits a kind of... dampening field that prevents all manner of detection.

“However, like with anything else, if our signals increase beyond our ability to dampen, then we’ll be open and visible to the galaxy at large. We definitely don’t want that.”

“I highly doubt that simple transmissions are causing a large spike in signal,” chimed in Miko. “I have no doubts that a base this well thought-out can handle far more than a spike in outbound messaging.”

The Admiral was openly impressed with Miko, and acknowledged her with a knowing nod. The girl was clearly incredibly sharp.

“You’ve the right of it. Truth be told, they haven’t just been messaging – they’ve been recording the both of you surreptitiously and sending those off. We’re not just talking one or two snippets here or there. I mean minutes of you when you’re walking around, eating, whatever.”

“Ugh,” groaned Eva. “Stalkers.”

“Why don’t I have any stalkers?” Redstar complained. “Am I not good enough?”

“You do, too, to be honest,” said the Admiral. “Just... not quite as much as these two. And don’t think of them like stalkers, please. They all mean well. They’re just excited to see people like yourselves on base. Their lives are mostly rather dull in here.”

“I still don’t like the idea of being filmed without my knowledge,” said Eva. “Don’t think anyone does.”

“It sounds like you just need to order your soldiers to stop broadcasting,” Merlin finally piped in. “No more broadcasts, no more problems.”

“I certainly have asked them to keep it to a minimum, however I won’t be sending any orders. That’s simply too heavy-handed. I have no intention of stopping them fully. The people in this base need something to keep their hearts beating.”

“Just not too much,” Eva added.

The Admiral nodded in agreement. It was good that the Federation pilots had something to talk about and bond over. They needed it for their own morale.

“We definitely clamped down,” said the Admiral. “We got these guys to start sending out comms via proper channels. They get rate limited, encrypted, compressed, and re-signaled so they’re protected from snoopers and spies. And the base stays hidden.

“But that’s only half of the problem. After we reduced the signal noise from all those people, we found a handful of other signals just underneath. These are the ones we’ve gotta be careful about. Reason being that those signals have been transmitting since the day you all arrived, and even increased slightly every few cycles. And what those signals are doing is erode the base’s damping field bit by bit.”

“Someone is painting our location,” Miko mused.

“Exactly. And sadly, I can’t find what’s making them. They’re self-dampening and appear to be auto-limiting. It could be right next to us, and we’d never even know. Security can’t decrypt them because there’s nothing to decrypt. Think of them like variable white noise generators.”

The Admiral rubbed the bridge of her nose. This was a huge problem for her, as it signaled the likelihood of espionage agents operating within her asteroid. The wisest thing she could do was halt operations and perform a full security audit.

In fact, regulations pretty much demanded that she initiate one.

But something like that would take months, if not years to complete. That wasn’t something she was willing to do, not when she was so close to perfecting Prometheus. She wondered if the other Admirals had instigated any covert actions against her in order to trip her up. It certainly wouldn’t have been out of character for some of them.

Especially the more jealous ones.

Just because they were blind with envy didn’t mean that they weren’t dangerous. In fact, that heated jealousy probably made them even deadlier.

“Started after we got here?” Merlin asked suddenly. “Does that mean people are after us? Are we in danger? Could we get attacked? Can you guarantee our safety if that happens?”

His brows were furrowed and his voice was tense. It was clear that he was worried for his life, and everyone was able to empathize with him, but not exactly relate. To them, he was a simple commercial pilot that avoided danger as much as possible.

Redstar elbowed him in the ribs playfully.

“Relax, brother,” she said. “Just stick around us ‘celebs’ and I’m sure the Federation flyboys’ll keep us safe.”

“Be serious,” he retorted. His eyes were wide with fear and annoyance.

“Don’t worry,” said the Admiral. “We’re very secure in this rock. Trust me on that.”

Eva nodded. From her own observations, she had seen layer upon layer of physical security. No doubt there was more that was beyond her sight, and protected more ways than she could imagine.

“I believe you,” she said. “There’s a lotta things keeping us safe. Hell, we’re probably more of a danger to each other than whoever’s trying to peek in.”