19:00

  TA419 - 10/04,

  TSU Defence Platform 2, Command Centre.

  “Your codes check out container Charlie-five. Have a good day,” one of the few dozen rows of communications operators said with a light tone. A general hum of productivity filled the Platform’s command centre, all the busier in the weeks following Platform 3’s demise.

  “Oh, we will. I have a real good feeling about today, ya know?” the voice of the container ship’s driver said back into the operator's headset.

  “That so? Care to spread the lovin’? My shift’s draggin' on today,” the operator laughed, taking a sip from his coffee mug.

  “I’ll see what I can do,” the voice replied, sounding almost sinister? No, ‘of course not’, the operator thought. Voices didn’t ‘sound’ sinister in real life; it was just all the extra checks and regulations that had been put in place lately making him paranoid. The codes checked out perfectly; only a TSU admiral could have forged them.

  He took another sip of his coffee and yawned.

  ****

  19:04

  TA419 - 01/04,

  TSU Assult-Carrier Curadh, Captain’s Office.

  “We’re well underway, Admiral. Another ten minutes, I can have the fighters launch,” Head-Captain Synapse said to his computer screen.

  Lord Grand Admiral Columbae looked stressed. He’d contacted them in a hurry a few hours ago, cancelling their target for the day and redirecting the Curadh towards Defence Platform 2 of all places.

  “Is there any sign something is wrong?” Synapse added, as calmly as possible.

  The Admiral’s bald head furrowed, “No, no there isn’t, but something isn’t right. Today’s leaks were simply wrong, meaning my agents are probably compromised, but that's a separate issue. LongParish nearly ended up in a trap. The place I was sending you is empty; no raid at all, reports the scout I sent in ahead. There have been no attacks anywhere else today. Where are they?”

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  “Well, that doesn’t mean they're going for Platform 2, though…”

  “It does not, that part, well, I’ll admit to a gut feeling of sorts. The problem is it’s what I’d do in their shoes. Draw the Casnels away and then hit the Platform quietly, given their raid on ‘3 was more open.”

  Synapse rubbed his chin, “I see; you have a point there, but could they not have other targets, even your platform?”

  “They could,” Columabae nodded.

  Synapse sighed, a small, rueful smile spreading, “A gamble, eh? You never change, Sir. Are we your entire play?”

  “Let’s hope my luck doesn’t either, and no, I have another surprise hiding inside Platform 2, one I hope Remembrance might just get tripped up on. I suppose we will see. Please, Fred, hurry, I just can’t shake this feeling.”

  “Aye, Sir, you can count on us,” Synapse saluted.

  ****

  19:16

  TA419 - 01/04,

  TSU Defence Platform 2, Hangar-bay Beta.

  The freighter coming in was a boxy little affair - a rhombus shape with old sandy paintwork. The harbourmaster couldn’t shake the idea that something was wrong with it, but its codes all checked out, so not to worry.

  “Err, Sir?” A middle-aged woman called to him. The harbourmaster was an older man with grey wispy hair that fluttered lightly as he turned to the voice. “Yes, what is it? We’re busy here.”

  “I’m sure you are,” the woman in front of him replied. She was something of a looker, he supposed, ‘nice legs’. She didn’t look like the sort of officer command would send to pass messages. In fact, she looked rather like a pilot, “I just got a message to report here. The priority was quite high, but the sender was hidden,” she continued.

  “You did?” the harbourmaster was genuinely confused; what would he want with a pilot? Something else was tugging at the corner of his mind, “Oh, that’s it!”

  “What is it?” The woman asked.

  “Oh, sorry, not you, somen’ else I was wondering about. That transport that just came in is old, like out-of-service old. It looks very similar to the newer models, but if you know, you know. I must be getting old myself not to have spotted it sooner.”

  “I see. Is that important–” the woman began to reply. She never finished, nor did the harbourmaster ever get a chance to help her out. They both died instantly as the freighter exploded apart, and a single mech emerged. The Bane of Konpei had arrived.