Solar Storm

Chapter 2

2

GALPOL Special Agent Ryan Miller stood at the edge of the Coppice Southwest Regional spaceport tarmac, watching the chaos. The service hangar was on fire, throwing up huge columns of smoke into the sky. Paramedics tended to victims lying on the ground in their own blood. Ambulances raced back and forth across the tarmac. News helicopters circled the palm trees, swinging back and forth over the rainforest. A group of around three dozen innocent people were quarantined in the spaceport, looking out of the tall windows at the police cars and fire trucks with fear and curiosity.

He dug his hands in his trench coat pockets and whistled.

What a mess.

His eyes still burned with sleep and he desperately needed a diet soda right now. He’d been on call to worse planets, and GALPOL could have picked a more dangerous territory for him, but something about this jungle planet made him wish someone else had been in the rotation.

Someone stepped next to him.

“You’re gonna be up all night with this one, Miller.”

Lieutenant Laura Fisher folded her arms, her blue and silver uniform glowing against the fiery night.

“I figured that,” Miller said, tipping his fedora to her. “I can’t go to sleep for more than three hours without somebody in this freaking galaxy calling me.”

“I wouldn’t have called unless I needed you,” Fisher said.

Miller yawned. “What do we got?”

“The biggest attack on Rah Galaxy soil by a domestic terrorist, for starters.”

“Great.”

“Where do you want me to start?” Fisher asked.

“How about we start with the killer?” Miller said, looking at Fisher. She was watching a police car. Someone was inside, but he couldn’t tell who.

“Please tell me you found the killer,” Miller said.

“We found him,” Fisher said.

“Then maybe I won’t be here all night,” Miller said.

“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Fisher said. “Right now we have more questions than we have answers.”

“Why?” Miller asked. “You got your man. Galaxy Court’ll prosecute him, we’ll all pat ourselves on the back, pretend that this galaxy isn’t broken and ride off into the sunset together. Case closed. What else you got for me, Fisher?”

Fisher motioned for him to follow.

They stopped near a silver casing lying on the tarmac.

Fisher crouched down and pulled a pen out of her chest pocket. She pointed to it.

“Ever seen this kind before?” she asked.

Ryan crouched down with her, squinting in the firelight.

“Definitely a rifle casing,” Miller said. “Coil type. But no, I haven't seen this type before.”

He cursed.

“Dammit, Fisher, you weren’t kidding about me being up all night, were you?” Miller asked. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and took a photo.

“We’ve got about twenty of them scattered across the tarmac. The rest are inside the bodies of the victims. But we’ve never seen bullets like this. That's an automatic GALPOL referral per the protocol. You know, because of all the weapons manufacturers that have been running rampant lately.”

Miller tapped a flashlight button on his camera app and illuminated the casing. It was silver, smooth, and as long as his pointer finger.

“Doesn’t match the profile of most guns we’ve seen,” Fisher said.

“I’ll have to run it through our database,” Miller said. “Could be anything, from anywhere.”

“That’s why we’re deferring this to you guys,” Fisher said.

“I want all of the casings when you’re done,” Miller said, standing. “That'll help Ballistics.”

In the distance, the police car began to drive off.

“Where’s it headed?” Miller asked.

“Southwest Station,” Fisher said.

“Good,” Miller said. “Reserve an interrogation room for me. I want first crack at this bastard.”