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| Chapter Thirteen |
| Race Against Time |
| USS Stealthlon briefing room 08:45 SET 2195 �Blow up the Intel building?� Commander Vaughn echoed Serena�s last statement. �That doesn�t make sense. What good would that do?� �It makes plenty of sense,� countered the mirror Commander Lisa Hayes. �It�s UNSF Intelligence that has constantly provided the two continents with information pertinent to their defense. Without that crucial link, Australia and South America are blind.� �Where is UNSF Intel located?� Lieutenant Ingle asked the Commander. �Sarra IV, third planet of the Sarra Sector,� she responded. �We need to get warning.� �First of all,� Captain Blackbird interjected smoothly, how does he plan to do it? Explosives, bombers, people on the inside?� �Bombers, sir,� responded Serena. �He�s taking a squadron of hired UNSF mercenary pilots and strafing the building.� �When?� Serena checked her chrono. �Three hours, sir.� �How long will it take us to get there?� Captain Mansel asked the alternate Stealthlon commander. �About thirty minutes, best possible speed,� he responded. �It�s gonna be hard to warn them.� �We can think about that on the way there,� the Captain said, standing and crossing the room to the comm console. �Commander Broadaway, set a course for the Sarra System, best possible speed.� Commander Hayes had already left to make the Stealthlon course corrections. General Pyant�s office 09:30 SET 2195 �Ahhh! Captain Mansel! Step into my office,� the alternate General Pyant, Director of UNSF Intelligence gushed, waving for Mansel to come in. �Have a seat, Captain. You�re a hard person to get in touch with.� �Sorry for the unavailability, sir,� Mansel said, sitting down and leaning back in the chair. �I�ve been busy lately.� �Understandable,� the Intelligence Director said, handing him a soft drink. �Coca Cola. Your favorite, of course.� Mansel was about to correct him when he realized that Coca Cola must be the preferred drink of the mirror Mansel. He accepted it and cautiously sipped at it. �Now, Mansel, what brings you to my territory?� General Pyant asked, sitting down in his cushion chair behind the desk. �The Intel building is going to be bombed in a few hours.� Immediately, Pyant was all business. �What sources told you that?� he asked. Mansel shook his head. �I have my own sources,� he said, avoiding the question. �Just know that in a little under two hour�s time, Maradine and a squadron of bombers will be showing up to hit the building.� It suddenly occurred to Mansel that Marauder in his own universe had blown the UNSF Intelligence building. He dimly wondered if this was their first time being bombed. �What information are you acting on?� Pyant asked, looking dubiously at Mansel. Exasperated, the starship captain rose from his chair and leaned over Pyant�s desk, inches from his face. �Listen, General this building will cease to exist in under two hour�s time. Either you can sit there and pick your nose like a fool, or you can do something about it.� "What the Intel building?� �Think about for a second Pyant,� Mansel said, struggling to control himself. �If this gets blown, South American and Australia will have no eyes or ears.� �Leaving them open for an attack from Maradine.� �Exactly.� �I�ll get right on it. Do we know how many ships?� �One ship, carrying a squadron of bombers, and possibly one escort ship,� Mansel reported. �Deal accordingly.� �Thank you for the information, Captain.� �Work quickly, General.� With that, Mansel left. |
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