Mallarctaia, off the port of Hermosa JudaThe Racicot-Class patrol boats were sleek, streamlined vessels built with curved armoured surfaces for maximum speed and to deflect rocket-propelled grenade rounds. Since these were blue-water boats, they were bigger than regular patrol boats, with a crew of thirty. They were also heavily armed—there were two sets of large canons on the bow and stern of the boats, and a smaller cannon with a 360 degree arc of fire on the bridge. There were also four machine gun emplacements and a water canon for a non-lethal option as well as to fight fires.
Two of these boats sped towards the port of Hermosa Juda now, through the strange polluted fog. On the observation Deck of the one in front, Brigadier Asfaha and Lieutenant Colonel Kuchawski stared as the port loomed.
The port of Hermosa Juda was of gigantic proportions, with giant, towering cranes and metal structures designed to berth the largest cargo vessels in the world. The port was a dark homage to industrialisation—the poisoned sky cast the giant structures, so big that they were seen looming out of the fog a long distance away, in an evil, sickly red glow.
As the port was a deep-water port, ships were already berthed—loading and unloading cargo and raw materials, a constant hive of activity. More disturbingly, the sea around the port was littered with chemical and biological waste and corpses, so thick that the boats slowed down on the approach in difference to the presence of human remains being pushed aside by their hulls.
The Mallarctaian port authorities had opened two berths for the boats, however only one berthed; the other drew up parallel to the port, it’s weapons systems swivelling to track activity on the shore.
And there
was activity—not only the activity of a busy port. The sound of gunfire and explosions could easily be heard above the sound of machinery and engines. Occasionally, the salmon-pink glare of an explosion lit up the port. Brigadier Asfaha put the crew and TUOC squad of thirteen on alert; it was clear they were entering a hot zone. On the small deck of the patrol boat, the gas-masked TUOC soldiers readied and checked their
CR65s. The Brigadier had eschewed her assault rifle in favour of a 9mm semi-automatic in a hip-holster, but was wondering if she’d made the right decision. Kuchawski had followed suit but was as impassive as ever, scanning the port with calculating eyes.
They heard the New Edom helicopters fly over as they berthed and Brigadier Asfaha sighed. “Really? Intimidating action music? Remind me to tell General Augrim to get his hand off it.”
Kuchawski grinned. “Ready to talk peace, sir?”
The Brigadier scowled. “Talk peace in a hot zone? This is going to be something to tell the grandkids, if the air doesn’t make us all sterile.”
Kuchawski tapped his palmtop computer and nodded, his smile vanishing. “SIGINT and the scans have revealed considerable military activity between the port and the city. Do we intervene?”
Brigadier Asfaha shook her head. “As much as I hate to say it, we’re not going to get dragged into some local war. It’s not our mission... we also don’t know what kind of forces there are here. Shit on a stick, Colonel, we don’t know a lot about this place.”
The patrol boat berthed and the rarely-used steps were unfolded onto the concrete berth. Brigadier Asfaha secured her gas mask to her head and they checked each other’s gear. For a moment, they stared at each other through the thick lens of the gas masked, then Kuchawski said, “First boot in...”
“...Last boot out.” Brigadier Asfaha completed. Together they left the observation deck.
* * *
New Sydney, ChimaeaLady Bryce looked up as her tablet computer beeped with a new update. She tapped on the screen and read the simple message:
TUOC in Mallarctaia. Commencing Op. Next to it the square icon had turned from amber to green.
She leaned back in her chair and let out a slow breath. If she was religious, she reflected, this would have been an opportune moment to begin praying.
* * *
Port of Hermosa Juda, MallarctaiaBrigadier Asfaha’s boot stamped solidly into the rough concrete of the berth and Kuchawski’s followed close behind. The TUOC soldiers fanned out behind them as they walked towards the two incongruous figures sitting on foldout chairs a little back from the berths. One was uniformed, the other dressed in a suit which had been expertly tailored to look expensive while protecting the wearer from the worse elements of the Mallarctaian air.
Around them was a semi-cricle of large machines blowing a stream of clean air in the vicinity of where they sat; as they approached, the air around him smelled vaguely sanitary, like a hospital. Brigadier Asfaha assumed this was a temporary measure to allow them to take off the gas masks. Behind them was a large stretch limousine and a series of military vehicles. Further behind them was... chaos. Temporary metal walls had been partly erected, preventing them from seeing closer, but it was obvious that behind the walls was a raging battle.
On an empty section nearby, Brigadier Asfaha noticed two helicopters landing, one belonging to New Edom and the other to the Ali-Zebu Union. Their security teams were already deploying as the Chimaeans walked towards the Mallarctaian representatives.
As they walked closer, both men got to their feet. The uniformed man’s face was hard, his expression set like stone. She recognised him as General Paul Bahar, the commanding officer of the Mallarctaian military. The man in the suit beside him was Chimaean—extremely handsome in a very nondescript way, with neat hair slightly spiked up and a practiced smile. She recognised him as the Director of Alpha Chem Pharmaceuticals, Levi Coates. She also recognised the superficial, beaming look and the alert concentration of a born liar or a politician.
Levi Coates spread his hands as they arrived, not too far apart to be intimidating and not too close to be an empty gesture. Every move he made was choreographed to be just right. He waited for General Paul to speak first, though.
“On behalf of President Calabresi, I welcome the Assembly of Nations to Mallarctaia,” the General rumbled, “The President regrets that he cannot attend personally, but he extends an invitation for the ASN...OC representatives to attend a ball in your honour tonight.”
Brigadier Asfaha smiled guardedly as she took off her gas mask. “Thank you for your warm welcome, General Bahar,” she lied smoothly, “On behalf of the Chimaean component of the ASN Operation in Mallarctaia, I extend Governor Bryce’s regards. We accept your kind invitation.” She turned to Levi Coates, maintaining her smile. “I am... surprised to see you, Mr. Coates. Is Alpha Chem now part of Mallarctaia’s Government?”
Levi Coates didn’t even blink. “Brigadier Asfaha, I am humbly actiung in the position of liaison between the President’s Government and the ASN, if you accept my services. The President has put great trust in me. As the recent media report has implications for the private sector, I also represent the many corporations which have made Mallarctaia a vital part of today’s global economy.”