Radio Chaos

Covert operations covers a broad range of endeavors, with an equally broad range of techniques used to maintain the covert nature of said operation. While some people would maintain that covert ops usually involved sneaking around in the dark, they would only be seeing part of the picture. Which, of course, was the entire point.

Sometimes covert meant hiding in plain sight. An operative who looks like they belong where they are, doing what they're doing, is usually going to be over-looked. Usually. Sometimes though, an observant local sees through the disguise. In which case an operative may need to scramble to either hold onto their cover, back out gracefully, or, in extreme cases, eliminate the unfortunate observer.

When Genni Foxtrot called and said "Hey, Boss, I thought we handled all the local comms infrastructure ourselves. Did you call someone at VerseTel to work on the relays?" I knew something had to be up. While it was entirely possible that our "Benevolent overlords" had done exactly that, it was much more likely that someone was messing about where they shouldn't. Over the time I'd been here, I'd overseen quite a bit of the comms system myself. It was hardened to a standard that was, honestly, far beyond the needs of a Rim colony. Which was how I liked it.

There were several communications trunks that ran through the colony. Much of it was wireless, in one form or another, but the main infrastructure and relays ran over fiber optic lines that laced through lined tunnels bored through the rock. The official reason was the difference in bandwidth we got from the fiber, where the other, not openly admitted, official reason was that fiber was a lot more secure.

Most places, if you saw a skiff landed next to a comms junction pit with "VerseTel" markings on it, you wouldn't bat an eye. Especially if the two guys working in the pit were dressed the part and looked like they knew what they were doing. Even on Hale's, where we didn't get a lot of outsiders doing work, it didn't look out of place. So seeing a skiff with "M&J Communications - Contract services to VerseTel Cortex Services" over near our main comms junction didn't raise suspicion until Genni spotted it and called me. And for me, it was suspicious.

I watched the pair of techs working out of the skiff for a full ten minutes before I wandered over. They looked the part. Right tools. Right stance. Right attitude. Everything fit neatly into place. "Good eve, gentlemen. Doing a bit of maintenance, are we?" I said sweetly from a carefully judged distance.

"Evenin', Ma'am, we're just taking care of some . . ." he started before looking up, letting the words trail off as the color drained from his features. He recognized me, giving his partner in the pit a firm nudge, who also looked up to let out a soft "Zaogao" under his breath.

"Max, Jeffrey, what brings you to my little slice of heaven?"

The answer, I was sure, would be entertaining.