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the impact site,” the Envoy replied instantly. “Not sure what he can expect to hide in a handful of days, but there’s something there he’s hoping will be gone by the time that storm passes.”
    “I’ve checked the weather report,” Alaura explained grimly. “The impactor messed up the weather in the region badly - the ‘storm’ he mentioned is looking to be a full-blown hurricane. It may just obliterate any evidence we could hope to find.”
    “Damn.”
    “The good news,” Mitchell pointed out, “is that we did sweep pretty close to the impact site on our way down. Combined with the data Harmon can pick up from Tides , he should be able to at least confirm the Governor’s data.”
    “Or suggest that it’s fake,” Alaura agreed. “Damien, I want you on everything we can pull on the impact, the video from both ADF and Commodore Cor - and everything you can find in local files on Vaughn.’
    “Whatever you do, don’t link your PC into the local ‘net’,” Mitchell warned. “I really don’t trust this network.”
    “Should we complain to the Governor about the bugs?” Damien asked. That fell under the category of ‘etiquette he hadn’t thought about’.
    “No,” Alaura replied. “That we wiped them all out - and will continue to - is enough.” She glanced around the room. “Mitchell, I want you to stay in Nouveaux Versailles with Damien tomorrow. Pick your best Corporal and section to send with me to Normandy.”
    The Sergeant sighed. “Are you hanging yourself out as bait, ma’am?”
    “Not intentionally,” she told him. “Doesn’t mean no-one will take a shot at me. I need to get a feel for the locals - I’m not sure how big of a time bomb we’re sitting on here.”
    “What do you need me to do while you’re in Normandy?” Damien asked.
    “Sit on Vaughn,” she said bluntly. “Get through those files and get out into the city. We know Nouveaux Normandy had a rebel campaign. Nouveaux Versailles is the capital - if the pressure is building here, Vaughn has more problems than he thinks.”

    #

Chapter 9

    Paranoid as she was feeling, Alaura hadn’t been able to come up with a reason not to let Governor Vaughn’s staff arrange her transportation. The young lady who’d booked the flight and the vehicle at the other end had been competent, if flustered by the pair of armored Marines looming behind the Hand.
    Landing at the Nouveau Normandy Regional Airport, a six-strong security detail from the Ardennes Special Security Service was waiting to augment the four marines Mitchell had insisted accompany her.
    The pale and young-looking Lieutenant saluted as he stepped forward.
    “Lieutenant Avison, my lady,” he greeted her. “We’ve been assigned as your security detail in Normandy - while things are quiet, we don’t think we caught all of the rebels and a Hand is a massive target of opportunity for them.”
    “I can understand that, Lieutenant,” she said calmly. “The Governor’s office arranged transportation?”
    “Of course, ma’am,” he replied. “Regional Governor Fok asked me to extend his invitation for you to join him for lunch if your business allowed.”
    Alaura nodded without speaking, gesturing for Avison to precede her. Fok had been Regional Vice -Governor until the elected Regional Governor had taken a sniper round through the center of her forehead. What intelligence she had suggested that Fok had done a good job cleaning up the mess of corruption his predecessor had left behind - quite likely part of the reason he hadn’t shared the woman’s fate.
    “First, I wish to see where Marguerite Anderson died,” she told the Scorpion as they emerged into the light. A second team of six more security troopers was waiting outside, standing guard over a trio of locally built armored personnel carriers.
    “I’m… not sure that’s wise, ma’am,” Avison said slowly. “It’s not in a good area of town.”
    Alaura gestured at the sixteen armed men and