Nelson tensed as he heard the Kusri officer scrambling through the debris towards him, saw the blaster pistol aimed at his head, closed his eyes, and prepared for the end...
BANG
...Nelson cautiously opened his eyes. He was alive. Looking down, he saw the smouldering remains of his transponder lying in a heap on the ground. His last means of communication had been cut off. He heard the Kusari officer shouting some foreign orders to the 3 towering KNF soldiers, who suddenly seized him forcefully by the arms, and started to drag him away to a steel door at the edge of the cargo hold. Resistance was futile, and he allowed himself to be half-led, half-carried through the gloomy metal corridors of the Destroyer. Sparks from the cables and pipes which ran overhead offered the only light besides the torches of the soldiers; all power was clearly being re-routed to the Destroyer's massive guns, which Nelson could hear booming away outside. By the sounds of it the ship was bombarding New London itself - Nelson hung his head in shame. He had failed; failed to defend Bretonia, failed to protect the capital, failed even to save himself from falling into Kusari hands. Thown onto the cold, hard floor of a small holding cell in the ship's hold, there was nothing he could do but to wait, and hope...
Sir Stanley Nelson <span style="color:#000066">Charles Canning </span><span style="color:#000066"> Foreign Secretary</span>
My name is Stanley Nelson. I am a Kusari prisoner of war. I am recording this manually in my neural-net database - it is the only resource left open to me. All forms of communication with the outside world have been cut. I have been in this dark cell so long now I can only guess that a day or two must have past. The ship's crew brought me a bowl of watery soup a few hours ago now, but besides that I can not even see the light of a sun to tell me which system we are in. For sure, we are no longer in Bretonia - the ship's guns fell silent many hours ago, so it would appear that the destroyer made its escape sucessfully. I only wish the same could be said for me. What the squint-eyed madmen have in store for me, I cannot yet tell.
Sir Stanley Nelson <span style="color:#000066">Charles Canning </span><span style="color:#000066"> Foreign Secretary</span>
I have finally left the hold of the Kusari destroyer, though where I am now I cannot be sure. From the brief glimpse of the sun as I was transferred onto a small prison shuttle I would guess from its colour that I am in the New Tokyo System. Eventually I arrived at what appeared to be a significant Kusari military installation, though whether it was planetside or on a space station or even a Battleship I could not tell - I only saw the inside of the docking bay where the shuttle landed. After landing I was separated out from the other prisoners and marched through a maze of white corridors by the Kusari guards, until we reached a large room bustling with KNF staff officers. I had barely a chance to glance at the banks of computer equipment before being pushed into a small office with a Kusari officer. His uniform insignia and medals suggested he was a very senior officer, but he barely spoke with me, instead conversing with my guards in rapid Kusarian.
Only right at the end of the discussion, before I was led outside, did the Officer address me directly. He turned slowly, looked me in the eye, and said "Captain Nelson, I must commend you, ha ha. Not many would take on a Kusari Destroyer single-handedly. But your efforts are futile. Our final victory over Bretonia approaches. In any case, for you the war is over. You belong to us now.......Goodbye Captain. We shall not meet again." He then made a brief remark in Kusarian to one of the soldiers, who seemed to find this amusing and laughed in a slightly disconcerting way.
I was then led swiftly away to a room where I was photographed and gave my fingerprints and DNA. I told them my rank and fleet number, but refused to answer any of their more specific questions about my position in the BAF or past deployments. Strangely they did not seem bothered by my refusal, and did not repeat the questions.
I am spending the night locked in a small yet comfortable room somewhere within the KNF base. I even have my own viewpad, though it is tuned to only show the Kusari State Broadcasts, and with my meagre engineering skills I cannot conceive any other use I could make of it. Watching the broadcasts I noticed a short report which seemed to feature footage of me being led off the prison shuttle - clearly the Kusari were advertising my capture as propaganda to their people. I am not sure quite how I feel about this, after all I am hoping for a rescue and such information may help give my comrades a clue about my location. Nevertheless, the idea of me being a tool of Kusari propaganda is somewhat sickening. At present, however, I cannot see and prospect of imminent return to Bretonia. As the Kusari officer said, I belong to them now, at least for the time being. I only hope that I am able to survive whatever they have planned for me.
Sir Stanley Nelson <span style="color:#000066">Charles Canning </span><span style="color:#000066"> Foreign Secretary</span>
The man quickly switched off the monitor, pressing a button that caused the it to fold up and dissappear into his desk, where it was soon covered by a folding panel. He then leaned back in his chair, looking thoughtful. After several minutes he got up and peered out through a tiny gap in his dark red curtains, at the New Tokyo street below. He sighed deeply. Finally, he reached for his comms link and picked up the mouthpiece:
"Yoko, I'm going to want some files sent over, I'm sending you the details. Yes, this afternoon. And get me a copy of that State News report on the BAF Officer captured by the Ai Keiko."
Sir Stanley Nelson <span style="color:#000066">Charles Canning </span><span style="color:#000066"> Foreign Secretary</span>
Finally arrived at what appears to be my final destination, at least for the time being. The prison shuttle brought me to a large, grey complex far from anywhere, somewhere in the Shikoku System if I remember my Kusari Star colours correctly. The looming shape of a KNF battleship stationed in the middle distance was clear as we arrived. The complex is...grey. Everything here is either metal or concrete with the only splashes of colour being the occasional embroidered mat on the floor. The cell I am held in here is, well, considerably less comfortable than my previous room on New Tokyo. I have a small-ish room with plain concrete walls, a steel bunk frame and a small toilet and washbasin in the corner. The square lighting tile in the ceiling casts a strange sort of purple glow over the place, making it feel slightly ominous. For some reason they have even given me a small table, though what use it is to me I have no idea, as I have no remaining belongings to put on it. When I tried to move it, I discovered it was sealed into the floor, presumably to prevent me using it as a weapon.
Having said this, at least it is clean and there is even a small and somwhat threadbare mat on the floor embroidered with Kusari dragons; I appear to have a better lot than many of the lower ranking prisoners who are forced to share double-bunk rooms even smaller than mine. As for what I have heard of the conditions the native Kusari criminals are housed in, they are worse still than those afforded to Bretonian prisoners.
As I lay on my bunk I cannot help think of my friends and comrades back in Blighty. I am presuming that young Graham Harper will have command of the Steadfast in my absence. I only hope the poor man's nerves are able to stand the pressure; I know that it took him months to recover from the shock of his father's death at Kusari hands. I only hope my disappearance has not similarly destabilized him; after all I have been mentoring him as if he were my own son for the past two years. I pray that Mark and Aubrey are able to cope with the new recruits and lead them successfully to victory against the Kusari, or I know not how I shall ever be freed from this place - the security is overwhelming.
Sir Stanley Nelson <span style="color:#000066">Charles Canning </span><span style="color:#000066"> Foreign Secretary</span>
Two men stood atop a tower block a short distance from the base's entrance, watching the KNF ships landing and taking off from the hanger bay. The taller of the two men was holding a pair of unusual electro-binoculars and was currently trying to focus on a tiny viewscreen within the base perimiter, through the open hangar doors, which by rights should have been impossible for him to see.
Satisfied, he passed the binoculars to the second man, "There, by the main hangar entrance. Yoshimo was right, the terminal just to the left appears to hold the shipping records."
Fumbling with the complex controls on the device for a moment, the second man eventually replied "I see it. But what if he's not on there? If he's still in the base we'll have a hard time tracking him down. And we can't even be sure this is the right base."
"This is the right base Yoko. You may be sure of that. Analysis of that news broadcast tells us as much. As for the results we find, we'll deal with that problem when we get to it. Personally I'd be happier if we found him here. At least we can keep an eye on the place without attracting too much suspicion. Now. We have work to do..."
--Two hours later--
Two men in the uniform of KNF Leuitenants marched swiftly and unfalteringly towards the hangar bay of the military complex. Their access cards opened every door they came across, and their ID chips satisfied even the most paranoid of computer security systems. As they arrived at the hangar bay they found a KNF officer on duty standing by the door. They saluted respectfully. "Konnichiwa Chūsa," said the first man in perfect Kusarian with only the breifest of glances at the insignia on the Commander's uniform, "Daisa Sakai requests your presence in the control room at once. It appears there are intruders in the base." Startled, the officer nodded curtly and marched swiftly off back towards the centre of the base, leaving the two men alone by the entrance to the hangar.
The man who had spoken moved quickly to the computer terminal in the wall of the hangar which housed the records of incoming and outgoing vessels and their cargo. "Thank God I can remember the KNF fleet roster off the top of my head" he thought, as he began keying in a complex series of symbols that should be known only to senior KNF personnel. "We have probably 5 minutes before he realises he has been tricked," he whispered to his companion, "perhaps less if their security system detects that the cargo records are being accessed without authorisation. Keep a watch on the door Yoko."
After about 2 minutes a KNF Ensign came marching down the corridor, spotted the two officers and paused before saluting hesitantly. His eyes lingered, confused, on the man operating the high-security terminal which should have only been accessible to High Officers. "Shōi! What are you doing here?" barked the man guarding the door whilst the other man continued to type furiously at the console. Before the young man could reply he added, "Get back to your duties at once! You have no business here." "Y-yes, sir." replied the Ensign, clearly very nervous, as he stumbled backwards before turning and running down the corridor. "Goddammit man, hurry up!" whispered the man known as Yoko to his collegue "He'll be back any second with reinforcements."
About 20 seconds later the man at the terminal straightened up, clutching a long print-out sheet of paper which he hurridly folded and tucked into his pocket. The two men set off at a brisk walk back down the corridor towards the centre of the base. As they reached the main hallway they were passed by half a dozen officers running quickly in the opposite direction towards the hangar, blasters in hand. Not looking up, they quickened their pace and eventually walked calmly out of the main complex entrance. Only once they were out of sight of the base did they break into a run.
As they climbed into a waiting hovercar, removing their uniforms and face-altering prosthetics, the man with the paper finally unfolded it and read through it carefully. "We're too late." he muttered. "They took him out on a transport yesterday morning. Destination..." he scanned across the page with his finger "...Fuchu."
Sir Stanley Nelson <span style="color:#000066">Charles Canning </span><span style="color:#000066"> Foreign Secretary</span>
It is now over a week since I arrived here, and hopes of rescue fade day by day. My existence in this prison is frustrating, painful even, yet so far bearable. Whilst my rank ensures I am accorded as much comfort as is granted to any of the prisoners, and by the looks of things many of the guards, I still cannot help but feel a desperate sense of despair that seems to permeate this whole place. I suspect it may be something to do with the lighting - everywhere I go there seems to be a sort of gloomy purple light reflecting off all the plain grey walls; the effect is quite unsettling.
As for the food, I am at least given three meals a day, the first generally consisting of toast, which would be fine were it not always cold by the time it reached my room. Lunch is invariably a bowl of Kusari soup, some sort of noodles and fish in it as far as I can tell, whilst for dinner I am served, again, fish of some kind, or a plate of what I beleive is referred to as sushi. Sadly as yet no desserts - I am missing the sticky toffee puddings they serve on Kensington. Still, I suppose I should count myself lucky - many of the other prisoners seem to be given nothing but a bowl of watery gruel each evening. From what I understand almost all the prison food is supplied from the nearby water-covered planet of Junyo, which would explain the constant fish dishes. Every morning I see a prison shuttle leave for Junyo, escorted by a destroyer, and every evening it returns full of exhausted looking prisoners. The Kusari seem to use the men and women housed here as slave labour to work their fishing and mining platforms - it is ironic that the only women in Kusari who are allowed to work are all convicts.
As yet I have not been instructed to join any of the work parties; in all honesty it appears that the Kusari guards here don't really know what to do with me - they seem almost intimidated to find themselves with a high ranking officer on their hands. After all, it appears that the basic prison guards here are considered to be below even the lowest of regular KNF or KSP officers and most will not even look me in the face or converse with me. I have only seen a handful of commissioned KNF officers stationed here. Yesterday 2 KNF Commanders came to sit in my cell and talk with me over a cup of sake. From what I gathered they live permanently in the base and were interested in meeting me. They seemed friendly enough, yet somewhat distant perhaps. I sensed as though they had been here so long that the ever-present gloom of the place had perhaps gotten through to them. That said they seemed cheerful enough to share a conversation with me - they avoided mentioning military matters and instead we discussed history and sport. I must confess I lied to them about the speed of Bretonian fighters I had seen when they asked about the Dublin races; it may have been an innocent enough question but I felt duty-bound not to reveal any potentially useful information.
Whilst I am, as far as I know, the only BAF officer of such high rank present in the prison, there are certainly more Bretonians here than I had ever suspected. As I am given some freedom to walk around my wing of the prison for an hour each afternoon, I have met dozens of captured Gateway, Bowex and BMM pilots and ship crews, their ships having been seized in Tau. Some of them claim have been here for years. More suprising are the handful of ex-QCRF officers I have found - I am sure that we do not have records of these missing officers, I cannot understand it. Could the records have been lost or misplaced? Was there perhaps some administrative error in failing to transfer the Missing in Action lists from the QCRF into the main body of the BAF files when the QCRF was disbanded? The men here seem lost, forgotten by their countrymen. Some even refuse to accept that the QCRF no longer exists, accusing me of spreading Kusari lies and propaganda when I try to speak to them about it. I cannot beleive that we have so easily abandoned these brave soldiers to their fate. If ever I am freed from this wretched place I vow that I shall not leave without taking as many others with me as I possibly can.
Sir Stanley Nelson <span style="color:#000066">Charles Canning </span><span style="color:#000066"> Foreign Secretary</span>
A short, Kusarian man wearing a heavy overcoat and wide brimmed hat walks into the station bar. Glancing furtively around at the various bounty hunters and dubious mercenaries drinking, he spots a small table in a dark corner of the bar, at which sits a man who's face is hidden behind a large newspaper. Moving closer he notices that the front cover of the newspaper proclaimed it to be the Shikoku Rose. The Kusarian smiles, and sits down opposite the reader. There was no such newspaper.
"konbanwa friend" he says in a low voice
The tall caucasian man puts down his newspaper and chuckles quietly, "Good evening to you too Yoko. I trust you made it here without difficulty?"
"I beleive so. The KSP still think I am on Honshu; I hacked their files yesterday."
"Ha, ha...as for me, they do not even know who I am. Let's keep it that way, eh? Now then Yoko, tell me, how goes your work?"
Lowering his voice still further, "I have sucessfully infiltrated the Prison Facility. We are in luck. The base Commander, a Captain Hiroshimo, is a pacifist. He is enjoying the cease-fire and beleives that resumption of the war will hinder his efforts to defeat the Blood Dragons, who he detests. His wife also has secret sympathies with the Golden Chrysanthamums, which he is determined to cover up. All in all, I think he could easily be used in accordance with our plan."
"And you? He doesn't suspect you at all?"
"Not in the slightest. I am posing as a GMG observer, and I doubt he will have much cause to check the personnel files so carefully that he uncovers my careful editing"
"Excellent. Then you know what must be done. Convince him to have Nelson transferred to your GMG care as a gesture of goodwill, to be used as a bargaining chip to end the war. Play to his sense of self-importance, if he beleives he can single-handedly end the war his pride will be his undoing. Blackmail him regarding his wife. Use whatever mind-altering drugs you find in the prison store. Do whatever must be done. And do it fast. By the time the KNF discovers their traitor, Nelson will be safely back in Bretonia."
Without another word, Yoko rose from his chair and walked calmly out of the bar. Smiling slightly, the other man picked up his newspaper and resumed reading. The inside pages were in fact written in English, and bore a remarkable similarity to the Bretonian Daily Herald...
Sir Stanley Nelson <span style="color:#000066">Charles Canning </span><span style="color:#000066"> Foreign Secretary</span>
Tired. Missing home terribly. I don't understand the sense of fatigue and exhaustion I feel, considering I do nothing all day, whilst the other prisoners all still head out to mine the fishing platforms of Junyo. I have missed Christams in Bretonia; it appears not to be celebrated here. Or if it is, they certainly don't share it with the prisoners. One small glimmer of hope; I was visited today by the Base Commander, Captain Hiro****o. He seemed friendly, and told me that there was a ceasefire in place between Bretonia and Kusari for the duration of the holdidays. Whilst this means I have no immediate chance of rescue, I am at least reassured that my friends are not dying on the Tau front without me. Even more, he suggested that he thought we may soon begin peace negociations, and subtly hinted something about me being released as an early gesture of goodwill or something. This is indeed a promising development.
Sir Stanley Nelson <span style="color:#000066">Charles Canning </span><span style="color:#000066"> Foreign Secretary</span>
A tall man sits behind the desk of an Interspace Commerce Executive, in an airy office overlooking the planet of New Toyko behind him. Putting aside a pile of commercial reports and business contracts, his eyes linger for a moment on what appears to be an an Engineer's Report of Fuchu Prison construction, marked with an official KNF security tag. Hastily stowing this out of sight into his jacket pocket, the man looks up as his secretary enters the room carrying a vase of flowers.
"Some flowers have come for you sir"
"Thank you Emily, I'll p... " his voice trailed off as he looked up at the flowers she was holding. White Tulips.
"Everything all right Mr R-"
He cut her off, "Yes, yes, fine thank you Emily, put them on the table here."
"This card came with them," she said, placing an envelope by the vase of tuilps, before backing quickly out of the office.
Once he was sure she had gone, the man carfully opened the enveolpe. He knew what a terrible risk sending such open messages was, and consequently what terrible danger his agent must be in. Yet opening the greetings card, he saw not the loopy writing of Yoko, but the tiny black scrawl of Yoshimo, his inside informer at KNF Headquaters. His eyes widened in shock as he read the message within...
Your plan has failed. Yoko is dead. Captain Hiro****o arrested for treason, replaced with Arisugawa Komatsu, a notable hard-liner. Chance of further infiltration now negligible. Komatsu is known for cruel but effective interrogation techniques, my suspicions are he plans to torture Nelson. KNF Fleet plans to break ceasfire by 5 January at latest. You must act quickly.
Breathing hard, the man opened a concealed door in his desk and removed a tiny black palm computer. Opening his encryption program, he set an ultra-low bandwidth frequency and began to type:
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