LotS/The Story/A Masterful Stratagem/Emperor's Voice
Emperor's Voice
"Depending on their direction of approach and level of sobriety, visitors to Sian may catch sight of the Emperor's Voice. This communications satellite is reserved for the use of the Emperor alone, and is employed when he wishes to broadcast his addresses both to citizens on the planet and to the empire's other worlds. Historians suggest that the existence of this satellite may relate to traditions from ancient Earth in which imperial words were deemed too important to mingle with those of lesser beings.
In certain Novocastrian drinking songs the Emperor's Voice is referred to as the "Emperor's Gob", an analogy which is the nexus of a few verses which range from the juvenile to the indecent. Tourists should avoid singing these lyrics whilst on Sian, as doing so may result in a fatal kung fu-related accident."
-- Vagrant's Guide to the Cosmos
"No one's started shooting at us yet," Talia says. "I figure that means things are working so far."
You have to confess that you prefer to entrust your life to something a little more scientific than the 'Am I being shot?' test. But it's hard to argue with the gunslinger's point. The moment you dropped out of hyperspace, emerging into the empire's home system -- once its seat of power -- as an intruder, your eyes swept the scanners and displays. And though you saw plenty of enemy activity, the movements of scouting vessels and battle fleets, none of the blips swarmed towards you on your arrival.
The Silver Shadow's stealth systems are holding up. You're a phantom, an invisible predator.
A short flight brings you in sight of your goal. A blue-green gemstone hovers in the void, its soft tones and hues a soothing and welcoming embrace to eyes that have looked upon it so many times before. Beauty amid a darkness that seems blacker than ever before, a glory that even now refuses to succumb to the wickedness which encases it in its malevolence. Sian.
"We'll get her back, captain," Talia says, her words echoing your thoughts.
The Centurians may control Sian, but she'll never truly be theirs. Once the Emperor is safe, the reckoning will come...
You look at the communications terminal, consider opening a channel to Wilex's cruiser. It seems almost... wrong... to look upon this sight without the Princess' face before you, her voice in your ear -- to share the vision and the resolve. But you resist the urge. The Silver Shadow's transmission systems may well be sophisticated enough to defy Centurian detection. However, that's a risk you can't take. No... If you wish to hear her voice, you first have to secure her father's.
"Tel, let the others know we're moving into position. Have them get ready."
The boy leaves the flight cabin, excitement shining in his eyes and twitching in his limbs.
And though you're better at concealing it, your anticipation and trepidation are no less. The first phase of a plan that may win or lose the war is about to take place...
Blinding Electronic Eyes
Wu Tenchu was right, as usual.
Before you, rendered in reality through the window and in digitized form upon one of the room's screens, the Emperor's Voice spins through the universe in tandem with Sian. The satellite and space station is like a metal crown, a symbol of imperium that marks both the status of its owner and the loyalty of the world beyond.
"Just a handful of minor ships," you say, pointing at the docking area.
It appears that only a small number of guards have been placed within. The Centurians don't realize the true power of the Emperor's Voice. In your simulations you prepared for both heavy resistance and light defenses. But you'd hoped for the latter, and it seems that -- for the moment, at least -- fortune favors you.
"One more suit check, ladies and gentlemen," Lupin says.
You do as bidden. This portion of the mission is in the thief's capable hands. Electronic security systems are his purview, not your own. And he's right to be cautious -- like any good pilot, you're not willing to entrust yourself to space without adequate safety checks.
The precaution proves unnecessary on this occasion, however. Everyone's suit passes the final round of tests. If you perish, it won't be because of faulty equipment.
Arthur Lupin nods in satisfaction before handing some of his prepared devices to you, Lu Bu, and Telemachus. Your fate rests in these little electronic objects as much as it does in your weapons. This is a Sian satellite, in spite of the Centurian interlopers who wander its rooms and corridors. The master thief was provided with its schematics, and pored over them in excruciating detail. All that remains is for you to put his strategy into effect.
"Shall we?" he asks.
You move towards the airlock. Safety doors hiss open and closed, sealing the ship behind you and unveiling the void before you.
Lupin and Telemachus move to the exit, followed by you and Lu Bu -- just like in the simulations. The others will follow afterwards, if and when your operation proves successful.
The prince and the thief vanish, disappearing with an instantaneousness which still takes you aback for a moment despite the number of times you've witnessed it before.
A few seconds later Lupin's voice sounds in your aural implant.
"Go!"
You activate your own cloaking device and leap. The clock is ticking.
Perilous Patrol
Using thrusters to direct your movements you swim through the unresisting and intangible ocean of space. When you reach the right point on the satellite you latch on with your magnetic boots and get to work.
You're no expert on security systems or any other electronic paraphernalia like Lupin is. Even Telemachus has you beat in that particular sphere. But the long training sessions combined with hours spent studying plans have made you as familiar with the Emperor's Voice as you are with the contours of your own face. And in truth the task you've been assigned is little more challenging than putting the right peg into the appropriately shaped hole -- something which the games of early infancy have well prepared you for.
"You're clear," Lupin's voice informs you.
He's fast. Almost inhumanly so. It would have taken you at least twice as long to accomplish his first task. Master Wu was right when he instructed you to recruit the man.
As the thief declared, no blinking lights or other warning signs are given when you pry open a small hatch on the surface of the satellite. His work has already ensured that no one inside will be any the wiser that you're accessing and manipulating the systems.
You insert the electronic device. The display light on the object flashes at you in green approval.
The Emperor's Voice has plenty of security cameras, both inside and out. Destroying those around you would be easy enough, but also foolish. Nothing would alert a vigilant observer at a bank of screens faster than to have his windows into the world succumb to blackness one by one. Hence something a little more cerebral is required, albeit still child's play to one as adept as Arthur Lupin.
Now any Centurians watching the monitors won't see you outside -- even after your cloaking fields are dispelled. They'll see only the void, or the distant planet, as before your arrival.
And that's just the first step.
"I'm in," Telemachus' voice says in your ear. "They won't know that the airlocks are open."
Splendid. Your way in is clear.
"I have access to the internal security cameras," Lu Bu says. "Your surmise was correct: there are relatively few Centurians inside."
And now your robotic companion can keep you abreast of their movements after you make your entry. So far, so good.
"Head for the airlocks," you say via your vocal implant.
Your companions still aboard the Silver Shadow chorus their affirmation.
"Two guards approaching your position," Lu Bu says. "Alert and on patrol. A third enemy is a short distance behind them. She has what appears to be a warm beverage in her hand, so I suspect that she's not on active duty."
The voice sounds in your ear, and undoubtedly in those of Talia and Kess as well. For the rest of you it required considerable training to adapt to the full functionality of your vocal implants -- and learn how to speak to specific aural implants among those to which they're linked. But for Lu Bu, with his computerized systems, it was no challenge at all.
The three of you crouch on a beam above one of the satellite's corridors, a place which usually serves maintenance engineers but now aids killers with stoic impartiality.
Two men in Centurian uniforms appear at the far end of the passage -- rifles in their arms, boredom in their eyes and manner. You smile. This patrol will be rather less mundane than those to which they're accustomed.
"I'll take the third one when she shows," Talia says.
You nod.
"I'll take left," you say.
Kess nods. In truth the assassin could eliminate both of them before either had time to make a sound. But better safe than sorry.
The guards continue down the corridor, staring straight ahead of them. They don't even seem inclined to make things difficult for you. The training robots were much more vigilant than this...
Artemis' laser-edged blade slips from its sheath.
Your body tenses.
Master Thief
Two bodies drop from the beam. Two blades flash. Two different bodies are lowered to the floor. If only synchronized slaying were a sport...
A woman in a similar Centurian uniform appears at the end of the corridor. She doesn't even have time to gasp -- let alone trigger an alert -- before Talia's laser finds her eye and brain. A ceramic mug falls from her hand. It's obliterated by further laser fire before it has a chance to smash against the floor. The woman's body collapses onto the minute fragments.
Talia lands between you and Kess. The gunslinger and assassin run off in one direction, leaving you to head in another.
"Your path to the security room is clear," Lu Bu informs you. "Lupin and Ragnar will be there in 5.439 seconds' time."
"Now you're just showing off," you murmur. But you're fairly certain he's accurate.
You arrive in the designated corridor to find the thief and the Niflung pressed against the wall near an open doorway.
"There are two enemies inside," Lu Bu explains. "One is facing the entrance."
If the setback perturbs your two companions, they show no sign of it. In fact, both of them are wearing looks of amusement. Lupin waves you over.
As you near the doorway you hear two voices, muffled in a manner with which you're acquainted. The interlocutors must be wearing helmets.
"Come on," a man's voice says. "She'll never know."
"We got lucky last time," a woman replies. "She could have had us court-martialed, instead of just forcing us to keep the door open."
"The fat whore probably wanted to make sure she had a good view next time."
The woman gasps.
"Don't worry," the man says. "Security officer, remember? I'll just erase this conversation from the files afterwards."
"So we can say whatever we want?"
"And do whatever we want. Why don't we-"
"Finally! Okay, how the hell did a woman that out of shape make lieutenant? She looks like a damn hippo! And that stupid camo top she wears... Is that even regulation? If it is, it should be made illegal! And..."
The man's sigh is barely audible amidst the resulting flow of seemingly inexhaustible cattishness.
"The male Centurian is still facing towards the door," Lu Bu says. "Have any of your cloaking devices recharged?"
Three negatives emerge at once.
"What if we ran in and killed them quick?" Ragnar growls. You're impressed with just how effectively he's learned to shout, snarl, growl, and make other such warlike or discontented noises via his implant.
"They're both wearing communicators. It would only take a second for them to open a general channel," Lu Bu says.
"Then I suppose I had better offer my assistance," Lupin says.
He moves towards the door.
"Wait!" you hiss. "We-"
But the thief has already vanished round the corner.
"What the-" the man splutters.
"How-" the woman gasps.
Neither voice is muffled by their helmets now.
A noise sounds in your ear. If you didn't know better, you'd think that Lu Bu was dumbstruck... You and Ragnar exchange confused looks before following the thief into the chamber.
Two people, a man and a woman, are sitting on the floor -- clad only in their undergarments. Both of them regard you with visages saturated with bewilderment. Behind them is Lupin, leaning against the far wall. Two neat piles of Centurian clothing rest on the floor beside him, along with two laser rifles.
The Centurians continue to stare at you, as though in search of an explanation. But you have none to offer. You can only shrug, and raise your pistol.
We're all fine... How are you?
Perhaps the soldiers' utter confusion evokes your sympathy. In any event, you fire twice and grant them quick deaths -- before Ragnar can hew them limb from limb with his axe. He grunts.
"My mother always said I'd steal the shirt off your back," Lupin remarks.
"That's... that's impossible," you say. "How..."
"I've never felt any particular urge to be confined within the limits of the possible. Now, let's turn to the matter at hand..."
He steps over to the security terminal and gets to work.
"It's done," he says a moment later. "The remaining cameras have been appropriately neutralized."
"Talia and Kess are eliminating the last of the personnel in their section," Lu Bu says in your ears. "I will make my entrance, and rendezvous with Telemachus at the main communication room."
"We're on our way," you reply.
The corridors the three of you pass down are devoid of life... But not of death. Bodies bearing laser wounds repose near others ripped open or dismembered by the unmistakable swings of a chainsaw.
These grim passages bring you to your destination just as Lu Bu drops from some recess overhead, hitting the ground as soundlessly as a cat. Telemachus saunters from a nearby doorway, his battlesuit splashed with copious amounts of crimson.
"The guardroom's clear," the prince says. "I hacked the systems first, like we planned."
The five of you enter the communication room, a small chamber with walls dominated by screens, holographic displays, and control terminals. The largest display, that facing the doorway on the opposite side of the room, shows a view of Sian.
"We-" Lupin begins.
A bleeping noise interrupts him. There's a red light flashing on a panel beneath the image of the planet. An incoming transmission, awaiting answer...
"Oh, hell!" the thief murmurs.
He, Lu Bu, and Telemachus sprint into the room -- making for the terminals.
Lieutenant Targe
"Here!" Lu Bu says.
He tosses you a cable -- the other end of which is embedded in his body. You catch it, make for a console on the left wall, and insert it there.
Lupin and Telemachus do likewise with other wires, until Lu Bu seems like a mechanical spider in the middle of his web. The robot presses a button on the panel in front of him. The bleeping and flashing stop.
A middle-aged man in a grey uniform appears on the screen, usurping the blue-green world. Your stomach bubbles with disquiet at his gaze, though you know from his lack of reaction that he's not really seeing you. Lu Bu was more rushed than expected, but it seems that he's succeeded nonetheless.
"Status report?" the man says. His tones bear both military precision and the vaguest hints of boredom.
"Nothing to report."
The reply emerges from Lu Bu, but is spoken in a gruff woman's voice.
"Understood."
The man vanishes, yielding the screen to Sian once more.
A powerful computerized brain can work wonders. Not even Lupin, for all his phenomenal skill and almost inconceivable talent, would have been able to succeed with such trickery in so short a space of time. To trawl through the recorded logs, evaluate which Centurian would be expected to respond to the transmission at this point in time, and emulate her voice whilst replaying previous footage of her... All in the space of a few seconds...
"Amazing," Lupin says, echoing your thoughts.
"Thank you," the robot replies. "But one thing troubles me... The woman whose voice and image I co-opted didn't appear on any of the security cameras when I was directing you all. I don't believe anyone has yet killed her."
As one, all your heads turn to the door in the right-hand wall.
"There are no cameras in the satellite's bathrooms, are there?" you ask.
"There are not. It seems that in our simulations and live training exercises we rather overlooked the limitations imposed by human biology."
You sigh.
"Finish up here. Ragnar and I will search the lavatories."
You and the Niflung approach the door. The portal slides open with a screeching rumble when you press the panel, revealing a padded thickness to its cross-section at odds with the plans you examined.
With the breaking of the soundproof seal comes the cacophonous noise of someone butchering a walrus. Then it occurs to you that it's a woman singing in a very loud, off-key abomination of a voice.
The singing falls silent, which isn't displeasing. However, it bodes ill...
You glance at the Niflung. Then the two of you move into the room, weapons raised, gazing at the closed cubicle doors that line its left and right sides.
"Who's there?" a voice demands. It's the same one you heard coming from Lu Bu earlier.
This time its source is the furthest cubicle on the right-hand side. You creep towards it, the barrel of your pistol trained on the door. At that moment the door is hurled open.
The woman who lumbers out causes your prior eavesdropping to flash across your mind. She is indeed remarkably hippopotamine, and if you're any judge of fashion the top which strains against the flesh above her poorly-fastened trousers is quite the crime against taste and decency. However, your attention is focused elsewhere.
She's clutching a rather large minigun, with a belt of glowing blue cases trailing from its grim ebon body.
"Why would you have that in the bathroom?" you ask.
By way of an answer, the barrels start to whir. Blue plasma energy rips through the air.
You dive away from a stream of blue fire, breaking into a roll as you hit the floor.
The woman cries out like a valkyrie as she plods forward, spraying plasma across the room with more enthusiasm than accuracy -- scarring the metal walls, ceiling, and floor, blasting the cubicle doors to smithereens.
Then she shrieks. There's a clatter and a thud.
You come out of your roll and see her sprawling on the floor. Her pants are round her ankles, apparently having finally decided to rebel against the lack of proper fastening.
You stride towards her, weapon aimed at the upturned mask of frustration that seethes beneath her fringe.
"I hope the humor and ridiculousness of the situation aren't lost on you," you say.
Then you fire.
As you turn towards the door to the control room, you see that Ragnar's gazing at the plasma-firing minigun.
"Don't even think about it," you say. "Not for this mission."
He grunts.
"Fine..."
You find the rest of your companions clustered round the main terminal.
"Everything okay in there?" Talia asks.
"I'd recommend using a different bathroom."
"I've set everything up," Lu Bu says. "Whenever it's time for the hourly status reports, a recording of a previous response will appear."
"Does it look like that'll work?"
"Almost certainly. I've studied every such communication since the Centurians first occupied the station, and they never deviate from what you heard earlier."
"And the secure channels?"
"All ours. Our allies will be able to communicate with us or their contacts on Sian in total secrecy, without any risk of hostile eavesdropping. And I can establish the optical link. It appears that the Centurians never learned of the satellite's full range of capabilities."
"Open a channel with Wilex's cruiser."
Lu Bu's metal fingers dance across the console in a golden blur. Sian is displaced on the screen once more -- this time by Wilex's personal communications chamber.
The Chief Assembler stands before you. Behind him you see Princess Illaria and Wu Tenchu as they spring from their seats -- the usually prim and sedate advisor moving with the swiftness and suddenness of a cat. The two of them come to flank Wilex. There's approval on Master Wu's face, delight on hers.
"The Emperor's Voice is ours," you say. "Next stop, Sian."