A Game of Wolf and Mouse

January 27, 2181, Kehr-ban district, Kerrma-non, Jerr

Mikhail Johnson wanted to look away.

He wasn't squeamish, not in the slightest. As a Sunguard Special Agent, how could he be? But it was hard to stay objective when a child was involved. He couldn't help but think about his own daughter.

The Jerrassian Liberation Front had hit the café just before noon. There was nothing special about this location, not really. Located along a bustling street in the capital city of united Jerr, it was a place where people gathered after having walked the beautiful, historic avenue, framed by an alley of blue-green kareba-n trees, their needles rustling in the wind as the summer sun cast its bright orange light upon the city. Here, humans of all four races usually sat at the small tables, chatting about their day and gossiping about the latest rumors, all while enjoying a cup of coffee or korta-ben.

No, the only thing special about this café was that it was located right across the street from the Terran Federation Salary Office.

During lunchtime, this place was frequented by Federation officials. Regular people, with family and friends, and a job that had brought them to the Jerrassian capital from all over the Terran Federation. At some point the night before, the JLF had placed a bomb in the outdoor section of the café. Security footage showed them taping a small, yellow cylinder with an electronic device attached to the underside of one of the tables.

He wished the café owners had reviewed the footage before opening up for the day. But why would they have? Even better, he wished the security cameras had been integrated with the Sunguard grid. The intelligent computers monitoring the city would have caught the perpetrators in the act, and a Sunguard squad could have been sent to catch them before any damage was done.

But no one had seen the terrorists preparing to turn a place of joy and laughter into a scene of carnage and death. And now, two Etarians and one Terran working for the Salary Office, and two Jerrassians - a mother and a child - who had just been there to enjoy their lunch, lay there on the floor, in broken, bloody pieces.

Mikhail Johnson wanted to look away.

"This is a Sunguard arrest! Drop your weapons. Now!"

Johnson shouted the command as he forcefully broke down the door to the apartment.

It had taken the Sunguard computers only seconds to scan through the security footage from the café, rapidly matching the faces and voices of the individuals involved with the Terran Federation's record of all Jerrassian citizens.

Other security cameras had captured images of the suspects entering this particular apartment block. That's where the track had ended. No matter. As a Special Agent, Johnson had full authority to enter any residence without justification. The squad with him had systematically gone from door to door, questioning tenants and, if necessary, breaking down doors when residents refused to open them. People had their own reasons for not wanting to talk to the Sunguard. In this part of the city, Johnson mused, there were plenty whose work was of the more, shall we say, shady kind.

But those small-time criminals weren't his concern. He was a Special Agent, here to hunt down and destroy the Jerrassian Liberation Front. The local drug dealers, muggers, pimps, and jaywalkers could be handled by the regular Sunguard agents. He was a wolf on the hunt for bigger prey.

On the third floor, they encountered something more than the usual miscreants.

There had been nothing particularly suspicious about the door. Its faded green paint and broken, rusted handle were no different from what he had seen elsewhere in the old building. When he had knocked on it, he heard someone move around inside, and when they didn't open the door as commanded, his team broke it down.