Major Ariane Kedros #1: Peacekeeper

Not knowing what waited for her on the other side, Ariane grabbed a handhold as she opened the door. There was no decompression, so she stepped to the threshold. The slate began alarming in her hand, vibrating as well as flashing red dots.

It felt surreal to look up at the calm green status displayed above the door, then to look down at the slate and see blinking lights and text of "Warning! Oxygen content inadequate! Temperature dangerously low! Do not expose skin!" Readings from the sensors in the slate began to scroll down the right side.

At least the suits were equipped with shrink-to-fit gloves, so she hastily saved the slate's data by a single action of her thumb. Still standing at the threshold, she reached around to flip the emergency disablement switch before stepping all the way into the gym.

The door closed behind her anyway.

She whirled, her breath starting to come faster. She'd toggled the mechanical disablement switch, yet the door had closed. She was beginning to feel persecuted, and those feelings grew overwhelming as the lights dimmed and a text message formed on the back of the door.

"How can you handle the guilt, Ari? Soon you'll have no trouble sleeping…”

"The final treaty's been ratified and we're closing down Naga's TD mission. Can't your employer afford any feeds? Ah." Colonel Owen Edones pulled out a bottle. He opened it, sloshing the dark liquid. "Want a drink?"

Yes, by Gaia and any gods of the Minoans. The amber highlights sparkled and as he poured himself a glass, the sensuous smell filled the cabin. Ariane's mouth watered as she regretfully measured her resolve, and whether she'd lose it with the drink. Ari, other people don't think like that, Matt told her. Every drink isn't a struggle of control or a big decision. They either want it or they don't—if they don't, they decline it. Rationing and rationalizing your drinks isn't natural. But for her, the idea of anyone not wanting a drink was unnatural.

"Shutting down the Naga systems puts you out of a job. No more secrets to protect," she said, trying to ignore the liquor.

That wasn't true. There would always be Ura-Guinn.

"Don't be naive, Major. We could always retrofit the Naga vehicle for kinetic weapons, but that's not our immediate concern. Someone has to ensure the Terran inspection teams depart with the same intelligence as when they arrived. They're still our enemy."

"You intelligence golems love all this intrigue and secrecy, don't you?" She moved backward and sat down in the chair that opposed his desk to get further away from the smell of the liquor.

"You're one of us now, so live with it. Your orders." He tossed her a military-issue slate. "Of all people, you should realize how important this particular treaty is. We've gotten to the crux of Pax Minoica. Fifteen years of dancing about the negotiation tables under Minoan oversight and we finally begin the drawdown of the weapon system that started it all. We're going to start destroying the warheads that damage nous-space-time, if we're to believe the Minoans..." He let his words trail off, leaning back behind his desk. He took a deep swallow of his drink.

"No, of all people, I don't need to be lectured on the dangers of a temporal distortion wave." Her voice was harsh. She thumbed the slate. It contained a copy of the treaty, which she paged through quickly. There were protocols to follow, inspections required by each side to verify numbers of warheads, schedules for destruction of warheads, blah, blah, and blah. She opened the orders next.

At least Owen kept her in-system. Karthage Point was entirely military, under full AFCAW control. Karthage used the L2 point stabilized by Hellas Prime and its moon Hellas Daughter. One of Karthage's missions was testing Naga systems, designed and built on Hellas Daughter. The first treaty under Pax Minoica had curtailed actual testing of temporal distortion waves. Now the test squadron, performing a dying mission, used simulations and tested guidance and targeting hardware without warhead packages. This last treaty finally dismantled the operational squadrons. Karthage also had one of these squadrons, with a compliment of TD warheads, qualifying it as an inspection site under the Mobile TD Weapon Treaty.

"This is different—putting me back into uniform. Why assign me as liaison to the Terran inspection teams?" She looked up to see Owen watching her. "Diplomacy isn't my forte and I'm not familiar with the Karthage facilities. You've got plenty of lackeys that can do this assignment better than I can."

"I have faith in your skills, Major. You can fit in anywhere you want, and be anyone you want."

Yet I can't feel comfortable anywhere, with anyone, she thought bitterly. She leaned back into the plush chair. "I'm thinking of taking Matt's advice," she said. "Maybe it's time to resign my commission."

"Give up AFCAW protection? That would be foolish."

"You mean give up continual observation and control." Her jaw jutted out in challenge, daring him to deny it. He didn't.

The eight Autonomist officers, plus their two security guards, were a vibrant line of color compared to the twelve Terrans. Ariane's uniform was the most conservative, being a black coat edged with light blue, with blue and gold epaulets and stripes about the cuffs. The other officers wore their AFCAW red-and-gold dress coats over black trousers.

The Terrans wore grays, taupes, and other indescribable muddy colors. Their suits stretched tight over their torsos, hips, and thighs, almost looking like one piece of clothing. They wore no obvious indication of rank but the treaty required them to identify inspectors separately from interpreters. Perhaps the black armband identified the inspectors, since the TEBI interpreters Kim and Guillotte wore none.

State Prince Isrid Sun Parmet, however, wore a black armband. As he moved to the far end of the line from Ariane, her gaze followed him, almost mesmerized. He had far more presence in person than on video. He was tall and broad-shouldered without having too much bulk. Most of the Terrans had similar perfection in body symmetry, probably due to their restricted birth program and eugenic controls. Parmet's smooth golden skin seemed to glow. His dark hair had a touch of grey and his green eyes glinted. He gazed at all the AFCAW officers, in turn. Ariane avoided making eye contact, looking away when his gaze rested on her.

The airlock had sealed and there was uncomfortable silence as the two parties faced each other. Ariane leaned forward and looked down the line at Colonel Icelos, who stared intently at the bulkhead wall over the airlock. He was only the Facility Commander. The Wing Commander was stationed on Hellas Daughter and she wasn't attending this first baseline inspection. The commander of the operational squadron, Lieutenant Colonel Jacinthe Voyage, was her representative. Jacinthe only glared back at Ariane and made no move to address the Terran inspection team.

Of course, they wanted the liaison officer to handle this. Wishing fervently to be anywhere else, even the lowest level of hell, Ariane stepped forward and turned to stand between the two groups. Terran heads swiveled to look at her and she had to swallow hard to keep the knot of anger from traveling up from her stomach. These people were the enemy and many had Autonomist blood on their hands—blood of her friends and comrades.

Everyone waited. Welcome to Karthage Point? Those words would never pass her lips, not for a Terran State Prince. Her jaw tightened. I'm Ariane Kedros. I'm too young to carry this resentment. I don't have personal ties to the war.

"Karthage Point stands ready to support the Mobile Temporal Distortion Weapon Treaty." Once her words were out, she felt relief.

"A different jurisdiction may be called for, Mr. Journey." Edones sat up straight and his words became crisp. "But you're assuming that I care about the fair application of civilian justice. In this case, I don't. You've called in the Armed Forces Directorate of Intelligence, yet you haven't connected this to military concerns or uniformed personnel, and this case doesn't fall under the Consortium Uniform Code of Military Justice."

Matt scowled. Edones was trying to scare him with all his big authoritative names. "Ari might be in danger; we should send her a warning," Matt shot back.

"Impossible."

"There's no need to keep her location from me."

"Mr. Journey, what hubris! Major Kedros's orders are always classified. We're not trying to hide her whereabouts from you specifically."

"And why are her orders always classified?" Matt demanded. "Look, she might be in danger."

"Why would you think that Mr. Expedition's murder has anything to do with Major Kedros?"

Either Edones was confident that Ari's background would hold together under any scrutiny, or Nestor had been off track in suspecting Ari's records weren't authentic. Matt had belittled Nestor's "shadow" comments, but the seeds of doubt had been planted, valid or not. Matt tried to regroup his thoughts.

"If Ari's undercover, Nestor might have interested someone else in her activities," Matt said.

"She's not covert, in case you think I'm being insensitive. She's on active duty assignment to a military facility, supporting the new TD weapon treaty that we've signed with the Terrans. Why would she be at risk?"

Edones's tone and smile seemed genuine and Matt heard the ring of truth. Growing up on a generational ship didn't make him immune to politics, and Matt had still learned to read people. Something in Edones's answer was a little off; either Edones was playing loose with the truth, or he was holding something back.

"This crime probably has nothing to do with you or Major Kedros. Your friend was dealing with a whole different class of people than you're familiar with," added Edones when Matt didn't respond. "Did you know he was dealing with illicit ruleset distributors?"

Great-bull-shit, Nestor! What did you foist upon my ship? To stay safely within the law, Matt should turn the AI harbored on the Aether's Touch over to the authorities. They'd dissect it and after their examination, testing, and backward engineering of rulesets, there was no guarantee the AI would be the same. But if any of Nestor's odd personality still existed, it was codified within that AI and Matt's long friendship with Nestor mandated that he protect the AI. He couldn't turn it over.