Captured!

Shugaul, Ariel, Banasdan/Solomani, 082/989

Clearly the next move was to investigate Anardir Base. Various possible strategies were discussed, including borrowing the Sons of Earth's battledress, but in the end they elected to pursue a "stranded journalists" approach. By requiring the Imperials to rescue them, they reasoned, they would be able to get into the base without arousing too much suspicion.

This took them down to the "harbour", a cluster of hangar-like buildings on the edge of the Kerag Ice Sheet where one could hire or buy specialized vehicles for travelling across the deep ice. Ranged around them were a number of vehicles, rather similar to their own crawler 'car', but larger, flatter, and with wide spiked tracks instead of wheels. Insterspersed with these were a smaller number of quite terrifying looking vessels, resembling boats, but standing up on blades like skates.

Wisely, the agents decided against hiring an ice yacht, and rented themselves a nice unobtrusive crawler car; Cr100 for a week with a KCr10 deposit.

Vasquez spent some time visiting local newfleck agencies, building the background for her cover as a journalist covering the ice sheet disappearances. She spoke to several, and some were helpful; a couple offered to consider buying the story if she found one.

With Hum's help, they created a similar "failure" to the Zucchai crystal trick they'd used on the Nemesis; a damaged component that would cripple the crawler, and a well-hidden replacement in case they didn't want it crippled any more.

After a few practice runs, Vasquez felt reaasonably confident at driving the crawler (in an environment where there was little to hit, anyway) and they set out. Fox and Hum were left with the Nemesis, but Victor was taken along, in case there was any need for his abilities. Each took an energy blade, gauss pistols, and impact knives. Jeremiah added his gauss rifle, storing it in a rack provided in the vehicle. The covert suits were hidden aboard very carefully.

One of the things Victor was able to do was navigate throught the nightmare of Ariel's weather conditions. For nearly three hours they rumbled through the howling blizzard, utterly blind beyond a few hundred yards, and then the sensors picked up a power source, shortly followed by a mass reading very similar to their own.

They discovered an ice crawler, parked on the ice in an area where the hardy local lichen turned the surface a pale green. Several wide, flat temporary structures, like sturdy cloches, were arranged around the vehicle, and small objects could be seen moving around inside. A man was standing near one of these, and he greeted them as they arrived. "Are you lost?" he asked, inviting them in.

When Vasquez explained what they were doing, he became quite garrulous, and cheerfully supplied several different theories as to what was behind the regular disappearances on the ice; green space monsters, conspiracies, dark gods, the lot. Vasquez patiently noted it all down and took some pictures. Rather reluctantly, the farmer let them go in the end, though not before extracting a promise that he'd "get his name in the papers".

Valos Peninsula, Ariel, Banasdan/Solomani, 092/989

Over the next week, they zig-zagged across the Kerag, interviewing lichen farmers and - purely coincidentally of course - drawing closer to the location of Anardir Base. Once they were passed by an ice yacht, a blur of speed as it tore across the ice through the driving snow.

Finally, Vasquez brought the crawler ashore, and cautiously set off towards the Imperial installation, despite the unpleasant noises from the machine that indicated it wasn't going to survive a great deal of time travelling on a surface for which it wasn't designed.

Fifteen miles out from their target location, the sensors began to pick up power sources, and soon after, buildings. There were two groups; one centrally, obviously the base, and a string of smaller ones, located in a circular pattern around it - a security perimeter. Ten miles out, they decided they were close enough, and staged their "breakdown".

Hiding the majority of the cold-weather gear, they allowed a quantity of snow to blow into the vehicle, and generally made it appear as if they'd been far less prepared for the deep ice than they had been. When all was ready, Jeremiah tuned the communicators down to a weak signal and sent a Signal GK - an Imperial distress call - on a broadcast channel, knowing full well that only Anardir Base was near enough to pick it up.

After a while, a radio call came from the base, brusquely telling them to call planetary rescue instead of bothering Imperials. The agents protested that they couldn't, and blustered about the rules regarding distress calls, all the time weakening the signal to give the impression of failing power.. This went unanswered for some time, until suddenly the tone changed.

"Do not move from your current location. You are under arrest. We are coming to get you."

An hour later another crawler loomed out of the blizzard. Almost twice their size, it was unmistakably military in nature, complete with large threatening lasers mounted in a turret which swivelled to cover their vehicle as they parked.

The hatch opened and six figures disembarked and approached the agents' crawler. Wearing assault battledress and armed with gauss rifles, one glance was enough to identify them as Imperial Marines.

Boarding the crawler, the Marines bluntly demanded if this (Vasquez, Jeremiah and Victor) was everybody. Vasquez remonstrated, insisting she was a journalist, not a criminal, and that they didn't know this was a forbidden area. This had rather the reverse effect to what was desired; the Marines shifted their weapons in that way that indicates that, although the guns aren't pointed at you, they're pointing at you. The sergeant gestured towards the hatch. "My heart bleeds," he said sarcastically, "get in the crawler."

Vasquez turned to her 'valet'. "Victor - my bags," she snapped. Victor collected some mundane possessions, and as he did so, Jeremiah's sharp eyes noticed as the robot's hand passed over a gauss pistol which instantly disappeared; probably into Victor's hideaway pocket.

The Marines weren't that blase, however, and searched their prisoners carefully, removing weapons and communicators as they were found. Vasquez' GMS-13 was overlooked, but Jeremiah's was too like a possible communicator for them to trust; "You won't need your radio, sonny," and was put on the table in the cabin. They also separated Jeremiah from his impact knife, although probably not because they recognized it; Vasquez' was missed. The energy blades were also not recognized for what they were and remained in the agents' possession to their relief.

Secured in a cabin in the Imperial crawler, the agents felt it move off and head back towards the base. Every step of the way, Vasquez protested and complained, arguing, shouting, swearing, everything. The Marines appeared utterly unmoved. Halfway to the base, they came back in with portable hand-scanners, and 'swept' both agents for power sources. The energy blades were discovered this time, and impounded, along with Vasquez' camera case. The latter was good news, of course, because the images and interviews contained in the cameras were good backup for their cover story! Keeping in character, the female agent demanded a receipt for their property.

A few minutes later, the crawler stopped. Based on its' speed when it approached their vehicle, the agents were pretty sure they were not anywhere near Anardir itself. "Where are we?" demanded Vasquez. A faceless helmet swivelled to regard her. "You're where we ask the questions," was the answer.

The crawler was docked to the building they were herded into, and so they didn't get a glimpse of the outside. A short walk saw them in another cell, a plain square room with a sink, a toilet, a table and four futons. Two surveillance cameras peered at them from behind glass panels in the wall. The Marines escorted them inside, always in twos, one covering the other, consummate professionals.

Several hours passed. Jeremiah and Vasquez were trained and experienced interrogators, and they recognized this technique; it was called 'letting them stew'. Their training allowed them to recognize and discount the effects easily, but each chose a different way to mimic the effects of being broken down by the treatement. Vasquez yelled and cursed, with increasing signs of hysteria; Jeremiah retreated to a corner and glowering silence, as befitted his cover as a hired help. Victor, of course, was unpeturbed.

Eventually, the door opened again, and two Marines - this time in camos but still armed with gauss rifles - escorted a third man in. He was a tall, gaunt man with an unreadable expression, dressed in an Imperial officer's uniform without any insignia at all. He introduced himself as Garmil Kulikaan, and immediately took control of the situation. When Vasquez tried to bluster again, he snapped at her, "Do not interrupt me again, or you will be silenced." She folded her arms and looked huffy, at which he smiled a smile with no humour. "You will talk, in the end. We will make you talk." he said.

They were escorted to an interrogation room, and Kulikaan questioned them. Their protests, accusations, demands all rolled off him like water. He professed admiration for their 'investigation'; "drawing implications of equipment failure and validating them with the interest of an offworld journalist. Fabulous distraction cover; I'd have paid for it if someone had offered it as a service!" he said.

Jeremiah and Vasquez' approach remained along the "when we get out and tell our story you'll be in trouble" lines, but Kulikaan appeared utterly unbothered, and told them flatly that they would not be 'getting out'.

"You are no longer tolerable on this world," he said coldly. "The secrets of this base must be kept. The only options for you now are to be removed from this system in an unmarked shuttle and serve your sentence in a mine or factory somewhere quiet and secure, or to dissipate through the blizzards of Ariel as fine ash. How much you satisfy my questions directly determines this."

"Is Torvald Shimuusha behind these disappearances?" asked Vasquez suddenly. The suddenness of this caught Kulikaan off guard, and his expression betrayed interest for a moment. "Others will follow our trail," tried Vasquez, "you can't hide forever. That website names him and links him to them."

Kulikaan laughed hollowly. "You've spoken to these people," he said, "they don't like to think about the disappearances; they may be next. And the whackos who run that site blame everybody; little green men, SolSec, the Crimson Bat. Nobody takes them seriously. No, you two need to start concentrating on keeping yourselves alive." He stood, and the Marines escorted the prisoners back to their cell.

They mulled what they'd heard as they walked. With the training these two had had, interogation was a dangerously two-way street; carefully chosen reactions to the leading questions could in themselves be leading, and it was a near thing who had got the most information out of whom.

Security Centre, Anardir Base, Valos Peninsula, Ariel, 093/989

The next morning the questioning began again, this time with the pair seperated and grilled by pairs of questioners - nice and nasty, another stock technique. Jeremiah reinforced his backstory; "I'm the hired help. She makes the decisions; I carry equipment, talk to people sometimes, do what I'm told."

"Why's a plate salesman hired on with a journalist?" Jeremiah 'allowed' his expression to relax a bit, and raised his eyebrows. "Well, come on...." he said. The Marines and the 'nice' interrogater blinked in understanding. "It was a job to finance my travel, as well," he continued. "I have to say, though, selling plates is beginning to look much better right now."

After an hour of questioning, Vasquez staged a breakdown, collapsing in floods of tears and begging her inquisitors to believe that she really had told them the truth, she was only doing her job, please believe me... The interrogators didn't appear unduly bothered, but one of the Marine guards broke down and blubbered in reaction, to the evident disgust of his comrade. The session was ended, and Vasquez returned to the cell.

There Victor announced, in a whisper, that he'd been passively monitoring comms in the area, and that while the building they were in was transmitting out - apparently to the main base - absolutely nothing was coming back the other way.

Peculiar, interesting - but not relevant.

First of all, they had to escape!