Kelly read through the intelligence reports from the Rigel-Aldebaran trade route, not that they were much help. Ships left port and simply were never seen again. Kelly was amazed that none of the ships, crews, or cargoes appeared on any of the normal lowlife worlds that pirates and marauders frequented and used to move their ill-gotten gain.
What could they be doing with the ships, people, and goods? It didn’t make sense. Pirates always needed credits. Ships needed repair and maintenance, especially ships that couldn’t pull into just any port and shipyard. Pirate ships always had special modifications and configurations that wouldn’t pass normal port scrutiny. How did they replenish their stocks? Crews needed diversions. None of those came cheap. If they weren’t selling their goods, how were they coming up with credits?
If the missing ships were destroyed, there would be debris. Kelly had seen the effect of catastrophic kills on space ships. There was always an immense amount of debris. What of this report from Alistair, who said the container ship simply disappeared from his screens. How do you make a 300,000 metric ton ship disappear?
Kelly put the Reporting Officer’s sensor plot up on his holographic viewer and rotated it to see it from all angles. He called up the astrospatial data layer of all known pirate-friendly worlds and saw no obvious connections. He noted how close the K’Rang frontier was to the area in question and wondered if they might be up to some mischief.
He plotted out the ion trail that the Reporting Officer had followed and saw it peter out at the edge of the Pleiades Star Cluster. He could see why Alastair had turned back. The gravimetric flows in the star field would rip all but a reinforced warship apart. If the gravity pressure didn’t crush a ship, the gravity eddies could trap it and never let it out.
Kelly pulled up all Galactic Republic surveys of the star field and found them unusually deficient. There were very few surveys into the star field’s depths. Most surveys covered the outer asteroid fields, and none of the few surveys into the field were earlier than five years old. Even the Fleet Intel long-range observation posts’ sensor scans into the field gave little information. The gases and dusts swirling through that part of space obscured all but close range scans. It made for a good buffer between the Galactic Republic space and K’Rang space, but was not good for much else.
Kelly shut his holographic viewer down and made a note to Chief Blankenship to have diagnostics run on all sensors to make sure they were all at peak efficiency. He didn’t want to be blind going in to solve this mystery. He also made a note to requisition a few extra sensor pods. You can never have too much knowledge.
Sally arrived at the spaceport just in time to make the shuttle up to the space station. Pete had gotten her a pass, with the help of Steven Maynard, which allowed her access to the station for just such forays as these. She used the flight time to go through her pantry list and organize what she would need off this container ship.
She had storage at the restaurant for quite a few months worth of foodstuffs. She also pulled up her wine cellar list to see which wines she needed. Maybe this ship would have a few containers of food she could rummage through. Pete had only bid and won on the ship’s larder, but if no one was looking and there were good quality stores in a cargo container, who would know that they weren’t part of the ship’s food stores. She tried to pull up a ship’s manifest to see what the cargo was.
The shuttle entered the station and Sally craned her neck to peer out the port, to see if she could make out the ship. It must have been on the other side. She couldn’t see anything but ships in the process of dismantling and reconfiguration.
The shuttle docked, and Sally got up with the rest of the passengers to debark. This was Sally’s tenth time to the station and she no longer marveled at the facility inside the hollow metal moon of Barataria. She just plodded her way around the outer ring tunnel until she came to dock C27. She notified space station control that she had authorization to inventory and remove the food stocks and requested two grav sleds for what she would be removing. The airlock cycled, opening the way for her, and she was notified that her sleds were on the way.
Sally entered and proceeded to the galley. Most modern ships were all laid out similarly, so she had no trouble finding her way. In moments, she was standing in the galley. She inspected the ready storage and plugged her pocket tablet into the galley terminal to read out what was in the long-term storage.
Jackpot! The Andromeda Clipper was at the beginning of its cruise and was fully stocked. A quick survey of the ready stores locker showed that the inventory from the galley terminal was correct. She notified station control to send two more grav sleds. Wonder of wonders, they also had a full store of spices. She was in heaven. She sent a message to Pete to enquire about the Andromeda Clipper’s cook. She could always use an extra hand.
Sally wandered down a passageway and found the long-term storage compartment, opened the hatch and made a quick tour inside. Again the galley inventory and what Sally found inside matched. The captain ran a taut ship. She normally found a degree of pilfering, but everything here was exactly as it should be.
She was just about to turn and leave when she heard a scraping sound. Her first thought was that there was some creature in the compartment, but spaceships didn’t have vermin like the sailing vessels of old. She listened and heard it again. It seemed to be coming from above. She backed out of the compartment and sealed the hatch behind her. As she turned to move back to the galley, a vent grate dropped from the ceiling in front of her.
A pair of legs dropped down followed by hips and a waist. A well-built young black man dropped down and hung from his hands. He saw her and his eyes went wide. He tried to scramble back up in the grate opening, but lost his grip. He fell off-center and landed squarely on his back. He lay there gasping for air, the wind knocked out of him.
Sally walked over to the gasping Russell Obwobwo, looked down, and said, “You must be the missing crewman. I’d heard there was a discrepancy in the crew log. Don’t try to get up. You’ll get your breath back in a few minutes.”
He looked up at her and just continued gasping for air like a fish out of water. As she said, his breath slowly came back to him.
He slowly sat up, rubbing his back and ribs.
She asked, “Is anything broken?”
He looked up at her and said, “No, just bruised, I think. Aren’t you going to turn me in?”
She smiled. “Of course. You can’t hide here forever. They’re going to unload everything that’s useable and then dismantle her for parts. You’ll only have life support for another week, and then they open her up to space. I wouldn’t be doing you any favors leaving you here.”
She pulled out her pocket terminal and he said, “Wait, just give me a chance to sneak out of here.”
“You can’t. You haven’t got a chip. We all have chips implanted in our necks, right here.” The somewhat pleasant looking woman pointed at where her Adam’s apple would be, if she had one. “You wouldn’t get past the next dock before the alarms went off. The guards would be on you in a flash and they’d be none too gentle with you. Let me call them and you surrender real peaceful like. It’s the best thing for you.”
His shoulders slumped and he asked, “What’ll happen to me? Will they kill me?”
“No, young man, they probably won’t kill you. They have need of strong young men such as you. They’ll probably put you to work in one of the mines or factories. If you have a useful skill, they might use you somewhere else.”
He looked up at her with resignation on his face, “Well, if I’m going to be a prisoner, I might as well start with a full stomach. Do the replicators have power?”
She looked at him as if he had just used a profanity. “You’ll do no such thing. Come here. Sit. Let me fix you something. It’s the least I can do, seeing as I have to be the one to turn you in.”
She moved into the galley and got some pans heating, then rummaged through the stores until she found some steaks and vegetables. She pan-fried a couple of steaks, whipped up some mashed potatoes, and boiled some Andelian beans. In moments, she had plated two meals and set one in front of Russell. The other was for her. It was lunchtime, after all.
Russell and Sally ate their meals in silence. When it was over, she ran the dishes and pans through the cleaner and called up station security. Russell surrendered quietly. Sally hated to do it, but it was the best for him. She got security to let him help her load up the grav sleds and they all left the Andromeda Clipper together. She wondered if Pete could be talked into another waiter or dishwasher.
Alistair decided he was not doing very much good where he was. He decided to make better use of his time by patrolling the fringes of the star cluster. He put his sensors on passive long-range survey mode and covered as much of the perimeter of the star cluster as the gravimetric pressure ebbs and flows would allow. After a week, he had built up a much better star map of the field. Patterns of energy readings resolved into likely areas to inspect more closely, once the scout ship arrived. He found one area of the field that had readings much higher than the surrounding space. That would be the first area he would recommend to Kelly.
He looked down at the cat lying on the console and said, “Looks like you will have to go into stasis for a while, Rojo. I don’t think I’ll be able to drop you off at a kennel on any of the nearby worlds. It will be just a longer than usual nap for you, old fellow.” He rubbed Rojo’s head and watched the data flow.
While he was surveying the far reaches of the star field, a strange ship cruised by his former hiding place. It was huge, bigger than a fleet carrier. It was shaped like a pecan shell, painted black, and with eyes painted on both sides of the bow. It turned out of the star cluster and headed toward Aldebaran.
Irina asked Terri to get her info on the amenities of the Nebula Queen, sister ship to the Galaxy Queen that they’d come out on. Now that the pressure was off, she wanted to have some fun. She felt magnanimous and offered to pay for Terri’s amenities, too. Terri had been a good assistant and kept her from making an ass of herself quite a few times in the last year. A couple of days into the voyage, she called the concierge desk and arranged Swedish massages for both of them.
At the spa, Irina and Terri left their clothes in a locker, showered, and donned fluffy cotton robes and slippers. Irina asked for a masseur and Terri asked for a masseuse. Irina felt so relaxed she had her clothes bagged and walked back to her cabin in the robe. Terri followed her lead. Irina wasn’t as slim and trim as her assistant, but she could still turn the heads of more mature men.
The two padded down the hall in their complimentary terry cloth slippers and had just reached Terri’s cabin when the engine sound changed and the lights went out. Irina, knowing instinctively that this was a bad thing, pushed Terri into her room where the emergency lights were burning, and told her to get dressed. Now! The two women threw on clothes and prepared for whatever was coming.
Kelley, Connie and Chief Miller hopped on a man lift with the yard boss and went up to perform a final inspection of the tail gun nacelle repair. The yard had fabricated a new nacelle, and replaced the destroyed rail gun with one fresh out of the shipping crate from the armament factory on Schirra. They had replaced the rear view camera assembly completely. All grazing fire damage to the hull had been sanded, filled, sanded, and painted. Kelly was satisfied. The yard boss brought up the form that transferred responsibility back to the captain, and Kelly thumbed his approval.
Vigilant was ready four days early. Kelly wanted to give the crew liberty to blow off some steam before what looked to be a long cruise. As he was about to announce liberty, he got a call from CDR Timmons to see him as soon as the ship was returned to his control and his ship was out of drydock. Kelly prepared the ship for movement, and then requested permission to lift and move to Scout Force’s parking apron. Permission was granted and Vigilant smoothly lifted out of the drydock and across the field to the Scout Force parking apron. Once the ship was secure, he and Connie walked to CDR Timmons office.
CDR Timmons emphasized to them the political visibility of their mission, especially with increasing pressure from the Senate. He told them to leave as soon as they were resupplied and good luck and good hunting.
“So much for liberty,” Kelly thought, as they returned to the Vigilant.
Steven Maynard conducted a captains’ conference in his main conference room on Barataria. He was a medium-sized, but big muscled man in his late fifties. The deference paid to him was due to his ability to guarantee good captures/profit and a safe haven in which to enjoy them, more than anything else. He was not about to disappoint them now that things had slowed down.
“Looks like we’ll need to shift our operations to in-spiral for a while. The Rigel to Aldebaran run is starting to dry up. We’re seeing too many armed escorts and convoys since that last container ship that the Leviathan brought in. The passenger liner captured today was a fluke. Even our attempt to infiltrate a few of our ships into the escort fleet isn’t paying off any more. Captain Craig, brief us on that route you were surveying to get us out to the Perseus sector.”
Captain Sam Craig got up from his chair and motioned for the terminal operator to bring up his plot. The lights dimmed and a 3-D view of the star cluster appeared before them in the center of the table. As the image built, several red paths from Barataria led out, but all terminated before reaching the edge of the field. One crooked blue path led all the way through the field and out into space in the K’Rang end of the Perseus sector, where several green lines stretched from system to system. Several systems were highlighted in orange or yellow.
“As you can see, I’ve successfully piloted my ship out of the star cluster into the edge of the Perseus sector, represented by this blue line. It’s our back door into the K’Rang Empire. I’ve done a sensor scan and found several cargo runs that would be worth our while, shown here in green. There are at least ten runs here that would provide us with good captures. The best point is that these here, here, and here, marked in orange, are new worlds and get a lot of high tech and machinery cargos. The two more developed systems here and here, marked in yellow, get a lot of deliveries from outside the sector that will be on the edges of our ability to patrol, but high value enough to make it worth our while.”
The captains murmured at Captain Craig’s comments, with hungry looks in their eyes.
Steven Maynard signaled for quiet. “Thank you, Captain Craig. Gentlemen and ladies, we will need to harvest this new area carefully. If we continue to hit the Rigel to Aldebaran run selectively and develop this new area as well, we can all live very well for as long as we remain smart. In addition, we might find fertile markets for trade between the empires. I’m sure there are many that would pay top dollar for proscribed goods from the other empire.”
Maynard brought the meeting to a close and the captains drifted off in ones and twos. Captain Craig and Captain Chang, captain of the Leviathan, remained behind.
“Steven, this path I found is just barely large enough for the Leviathan to make it through. If the navigators get sloppy, we could lose her to a gravity eddy.”
Captain Chang, a grizzled man in his early sixties, bristled at the comment. “I guess it’s a good thing I don’t have any sloppy navigators, then.”
Captain Craig turned to his fellow captain and said, “Lee, that’s not it. It’s just that we all have so much invested in your ship and depend on it so much. I just want to make sure you understand the risk.”
“It’s all right, Ron, I understand your concern. I think once we fit the new thrusters we’ll pull off that container ship I brought in, she’ll pirouette in space like a ballerina.”
“Pirouette?” laughed Maynard. “That I’ll need to see.”
All three left the conference room and went their separate ways, chuckling at the vision of a ship larger than a Fleet carrier twirling in space.
Maynard made his way to his private quarters on Helge’s Ridge. He walked out onto his terrace and surveyed what he had built so far. Below him lay a twelve-kilometer wide city, with over 300,000 members of the brotherhood and 100,000 captives. It nestled in a valley between two medium mountain ranges and had all the facilities of a second tier world in the Galactic Republic. Every resident, including captives, had private quarters, free medical care, entertainment of all types, and all the modern conveniences.
To the north was a spaceport that could handle any size atmospheric ship or spacecraft capable of landing on a planet’s surface. The ancient artificial moon above them serviced all other ships and served as the wrecking yard for all captured ships. Nothing went to waste. The yards here were capable of stripping all the usable parts off the captured ships down to just structural members and rebuilding them in four different classes of ships.
The largest class was the Leviathan, named after the biblical sea beast that swallowed Jonah whole and spit him out again, and there was only one ship in the class. The next two classes were torpedo ships designed for system defense. The Scylla class was fast, almost a fighter, and capable of firing four homing torpedoes. The Charybdis class was slower, but carried six torpedoes. If the Galactic Republic ever ventured into the star cluster and got too close, they would find a swarm of torpedoes heading their way. Maynard would prefer hypervelocity missiles, but the Fleet chips capable of guiding hypervelocity missiles were too closely guarded to acquire.
The final and most prevalent class was a combination patrol craft and marauder vessel. It was fast, maneuverable, heavily armed for a ship of its size, and with a spacious cargo capacity. The lead ship in the class, the Undefeated, was due back in a few days. It was escorting a captured Galaxy class transport with some wealthy hostages. The ransom would probably pay off the captain’s mortgage on the ship.
Life was good for Steven Maynard. He had farms, mines, mills and factories, all at his command. In a decade, after he populated this planet some more, he would deed a township to each of his captains, and expand outward where three habitable systems were awaiting settlers. Steven had dreams of an empire, and he was well on his way.
He read the latest reports from the moon station and wondered how loudly Captain Mabry would yell when she found out he was taking her pilot to captain his latest Undefeated class ship coming off the ways. He’d probably have to give her a bigger cut of the ransom to keep her from blowing up. She was a good captain, but could be such a drama queen at times.
Steven remembered back thirty years, when the idea of Barataria first occurred to him. It was back when the Algol-Aldebaran conflict was simmering over control of the high iron asteroids in the local fields. Iron was needed to make the steel required for high-rise buildings, combat ships, and other requirements of developing worlds.
Steve captained the Survey Ship Pericles and was always looking for contracts. The Pericles had been a wedding present from his industrialist father-in-law. It was meant to provide Steven with an income suitable to keep his father-in-law’s little girl in a manner to which she was accustomed. Unfortunately, she was accustomed to more attention than a wandering survey captain could provide. One of her lovers was the jealous type and, when she wouldn’t leave Steven for him, killed them both in a murder-suicide. Steven returned home, buried his wife, sold all their belongings and left to make his life among the stars.
He found that contracting for survey work in a conflict zone was profitable but tricky work. Both sides had hired privateers who were not always scrupulous when it came to deciding what was or wasn’t an enemy vessel. Steven had some medium plasma guns in hidden mounts fitted in the Pericles, to give him a chance.
One day, he was working a survey contract for an Aldebaran conglomerate in dire need of certain minerals. Steven was picking his way through an asteroid field, doing remote assay work looking for high concentrations of the minerals in question.
An Algolian privateer happened upon him and called for him to heave to and be boarded for inspection. Knowing that his Aldebaran contract would brand him an enemy vessel, he allowed the privateer to get close and then cut him in two with his guns. Unfortunately, the privateer wasn’t alone and Steven found himself in a four hour running gun battle. His ship thrusters gave him an advantage in being able to run up to full speed then face rearward to fire. It kept the privateer back and gave Steven running room, but he needed to find someplace to get away, to hide and wait out this tenacious captain. As he ran along the face of the Pleiades Star Cluster, he thought he saw a pathway inside. He turned in against the wishes of his crew and, surprisingly his ship wasn’t crushed by the gravity or swept into an eddy never to be seen again.
The privateer chose not to follow him, but waited at the spot the Pericles entered. With his exit closed, Steven led his ship further into the star cluster, looking for an alternate way out. He did not find another way out, but he did find something wondrous — an abandoned habitable world.
Steven spent three days conducting a full survey of this empty planet, hoping their friend waiting outside would tire and go away. It was a Class M planet orbiting within the Goldilocks zone, where the effects of solar radiation were not too cold, not too hot, but just right for human habitation. He found scattered ruins and an artificial moon from an ancient and long absent society. He couldn’t tell if they had abandoned the world or died off. In fact, he found no physical evidence, no bones or images, beyond the ruins, that there had ever been sentient beings on the planet. He estimated that it had been millennia since the planet had been occupied.
His exploration of the artificial moon found it to be fully functional. Thankfully, the old civilization used pictures for labeling their controls; so most functions were easily discernable. One of his engineers found the controls to pressurize the workspaces and did so. The air was musty, but breathable. It gave them freedom to explore the space station and discover its secrets. What they found was a shipyard capable of building and repairing medium-sized ships like the Pericles or their privateer friend waiting outside.
Steven was considering the best way to profit from this discovery, when one of his crew suggested that their food was getting low and the pirate at the gate wouldn’t have long to wait before they had to replenish their stocks. He mused how the privateer would probably love to have a hole like this to duck into when things got too hot on the outside.
Steven grasped onto this idea as a way out of their current predicament. He saw it through to its logical conclusion. He could offer to populate this world with a society of pirates. It had fertile land for bountiful crops and raising livestock. It had space for large estates and city houses. Steven saw the draw this planet could have for the right clientele.
Steven prepared a sales pitch to use on their tenacious friend still waiting outside. He ran it by his crew and they were all for it. Land on developed worlds was expensive and hard to come by. Land on new words was limited by Galactic Republic environmental and settlement bureau red tape. Here was as much land as one could want. A man could claim a whole continent if he had a mind to.
Steven approached the entrance to the star cluster just out of weapons range and called the privateer captain over short-range comms.
“Unknown vessel, this is Captain Steven Maynard of the Survey Ship Pericles.”
He didn’t have long to wait for a reply. “Captain Maynard, this is Captain Lee Chang of the Aldebaran Auxiliary Fleet Vessel, Morning Sun, present your ship to be boarded.”
Well, that was to be expected, seeing as his ship had destroyed one of his fellow privateers.
Steven started his sales pitch. He said he wasn’t likely to submit to boarding. He asked Captain Chang if he ever felt a longing to be the owner of his own land, in a place where he could live his current lifestyle free of any legal entanglements. He asked him if he would like a facility to maintain his ship where the fees wouldn’t go up based on a successful cruise.
Captain Chang came back on the communicator and asked, “Where is this Shangri La you speak of?”
Steven replied, “It is right in here behind me. Would you care to have a look?”
Chang replied, “How do I know this isn’t just a ruse to lure me into gun range and kill us like you killed the Enforcer, or lead me into a gravity eddy I can’t escape from?”
Steven replied, “You don’t, but isn’t the reward enough to overcome the risk? Come in with your weapons charged, Captain. I will do the same. If either suspects treachery, we are free to fire.”
The other captain chuckled and said, “I don’t know you, Captain, but I like your style. It will be a pity if I have to kill you.”
Steven keyed his communicator, chuckled, and said, “I feel the same way about you, sir.”
Captain Chang was impressed by the found world and also realized its potential as a base for those not friendly with the law. He and Steven agreed to sponsor this world to the right kind of people. One of their first joint tasks was to name their world. They looked through history files for any similar arrangements and found an old Earth pirate named Jean Lafitte, who operated a similar gathering of pirates on an island called Barataria, so that became the planet’s name.
Steven put the word out through the various prison networks of a world more lenient than those they were serving time on. The word spread quickly through the cellblocks and camps. He told convicts that a world awaited them if they had needed skills and could control their passions. Steven advertised for people with experience in construction, heavy manufacturing, light manufacturing, shipbuilding, agriculture, engineering, hospitality, and other fields. He received queries by the thousands. His population grew and pretty soon his idea became a city.
Lee Chang put the word out through the pirate network and ships showed up by the dozens. There were some early problems with some of the pirates being a little too ruthless with their captives. Those captives that weren’t killed were worthless for use on the farms and in the factories. That was when the code of the brotherhood came into being.
The code was simple logic: Loyalty to the Brotherhood above all, aid fellow brothers in need, inflict no needless harm to captives, keep the secret of Barataria, and above all, thieves can’t abide other thieves. These simple rules kept the Brotherhood from descending into anarchy. Unfortunately, for those who could not learn to live within these rules, infractions could mean death. Once you joined the Brotherhood and learned of Barataria’s location, you could never leave the Brotherhood. A few had to be hunted down and killed for that lesson to soak in.
Fleet comms channels were burning up with messages from the major shipping lines, several corporations, and two world governments to do something about these ship disappearances. There was even Galactic Republic Senate pressure being brought to bear. The Vigilant would be departing as soon as she could be resupplied. They were given priority with base supply so that would be no time at all.
Kelly reviewed his orders as the base shuttle delivered him to the Vigilant: Proceed to the vicinity of the Rigel-Aldebaran trade route. Rendezvous with Fleet Reporting Officer Alistair Bennett. Assist him in his investigations, as appropriate. Determine the source of the ship disappearances and resolve the matter successfully.
It was a simple mission. All he had to do was do what the Rigel and Aldebaran governments’ best investigators and the combined resources of ten shipping lines were unable to do. All he could think was what a great mission they’d given him.
Sensor Lead Technician H’Talli, of the K’Rang Missile Corvette J’New, ran an in-port training exercise for his sensor section in the Combat Information Center, using saved sensor files from their patrol a week prior. He supervised his section as they scoured the old sensor data, rating them on their ability to quickly identify ships by engine signature, type, and size.
He had a timer and a list of targets he had personally identified on their last patrol through the D’Rin sector. This sector was peaceful and their only targets normally were commercial vessels of various types and sizes. It was a perfect training opportunity. As the techs worked, he tracked how quickly they identified and classified targets on the basis of his own score.
The D’Rin sector was sort of a backwater by K’Rang standards and the J’New was the only ship dedicated to this sector. Here the border had no mines or sensors, but was secure by the impenetrability of the D’Rin star cluster, a dusty star nursery consisting of a few large blue stars, even fewer yellow dwarf stars, and hundreds of brown dwarfs too feeble to ever become true stars. The gravity and the magnetic fields they created were treacherous to ships. Many a scout ship was lost attempting to find a passage through to human space.
He checked his list and saw that the next target ship was an ore carrier due in sensor range in ten seconds. He watched to see who would be first to react.
Sensor Technician T’Get reacted first, but he should not have been able to detect the target for another eight seconds. H’Talli moved to see what T’Get was sensing.
“Sensor Technician T’Get, what is the target you are working?”
“Sensor Lead Technician H’Talli, a ship has appeared from the D’Rin star cluster. I believe it is a Human ship of a type not in our data base.”
H’Talli doubted the junior sensor analyst and asked T’Get to show his data.
T’Get ran the sensor file back and focused on the face of the D’Rin star cluster, where he had seen the ship. In a moment, a ship appeared outside the boundary of the star cluster. The ship was there and the next instant, it was gone.
T’Get replayed the file and H’Talli’s pupils widened, his fur stood up, and his blood ran cold as the ship came into view again. H’Talli froze the feed as the ship appeared. He moved T’Get out of his seat and sat down to work the target. It was unmistakably a Human ship. The engine signature was that of a common gravity well/FTL engine of Human design. Unfortunately, it dropped back into the star cluster before its class and armament could be determined.
H’Talli stood up on unsteady legs as the realization of the find sunk in.
He announced to the room, “This training is ended. Put your positions in proper order and you are released for the day. Report back here at 0500 tomorrow. Sensor Technician T’Get, you will remain behind.”
As the section filed out, H’Talli sat back down at the sensor terminal and reprocessed all the data on the Human ship. He had no doubt in his conclusion.
He stood up and clasped Sensor Technician T’Get by the shoulder.
“Sensor Technician Second Class T’Get, you will not talk of this to anyone. I concur with your analysis. I am forwarding your discovery directly to the Imperial Analytical Cabal. If they concur with what you and I see, I will recommend that you be promoted immediately to Sensor Technician First Class. You have done a great service to the Empire.”
Sensor Lead Technician H’Talli left the Combat Information Center to seek an audience with the captain.
It was departure time for Kelly’s patrol. The crew was ready. The ship was ready. The captain was ready. “Exec, are we ready to lift off?”
LTJG Cortez looked up from her display, which showed green indicators from all ship’s sections and replied, “All sections report ready. Chief Billings has the quarterdeck. The gangplank is down. Awaiting your orders, sir.”
Kelly took a look around the bridge. All personnel were in their places. He envisioned his ship as a coiled spring ready to be set free. He keyed his communicator and said, “Chief Billings, bring up the gangplank and secure the quarterdeck watch.”
Kelly heard the gangplank come up and lock in place. He felt a slight pressure change in his ears, signifying a good seal on the gangplank hatch. Chief Billings joined them, reported the gangplank up, locked, and the quarterdeck watch secured. He took his position as Chief of the Watch. The ship was ready for space.
Kelly keyed his mike again. “Antares Base, this is Vigilant, requesting permission for take off.”
“Vigilant, this is Antares Base, you are cleared for take off. Good luck and good hunting.”
“Helmsman, take us up, standard departure, 0.5 c once we clear the atmosphere. Yeoman, start the log.”
“Standard departure, 0.5 c once we clear the atmosphere, aye, sir.”
As they cleared the atmosphere Kelly said, “Chief, Billings would you enter our course?”
“Aye aye, Captain. Navigator, your course is coming up.”
Kelly scanned the navigation screen for ships in their path and said, “Helm, as soon as we clear the minimum safety distance, engage FTL Power 4 and let’s get out of here.”
The helmsman entered and verified the course, then replied, “Course is locked in, minimum safety range in six seconds, five, four, three, two, one, engaging FTL Power 4.”
Kelly stood up. “Exec, you have the first watch. Chief Blankenship, join me in my ready room.”
As the captain and Chief B left, LTJG Cortez passed the conn to Chief Billings and checked on conditions in other sections of the ship. Gunnery was squared away. Sensors were squared away. The galley smelled yummy. Engineering was unmatched.
She went to Chief Miller and asked, “Chief, have you run diagnostics on the engine synchronizers?”
Chief Miller wiped his hands clean on the rag he always kept handy. “Yes, ma’am, I’ve run full diagnostics on the three active and two spares. All check out within 2 % of specifications or better.”
“Good, the last word my old boss gave me was to try and discourage the captain from full stop to max speed runs if any of the synchronizers are more than 5 % out of spec. If that happens with any of the active synchronizers, let the captain and I know immediately.”
“Yes, ma’am, will do.”
“By the way, Chief, what level G-force did the hull pull during our mad acceleration? My monitor was on engine instrumentation, not hull stresses.”
“Ma’am, my gauges showed a peak of 6 G’s on initial thrust, leveling off to 4 G’s upon climbing through FTL Power 4, and dropping to 2 G’s just before we hit top speed. We were well within specs for the stabilizers. They max out at 8 G’s.”
“Thanks Chief, good work.”
Connie worked her way back to the bridge, stopping off in the galley for a cup of coffee and a roll.
Staring out the view screens at the cosmos, now that the ship was on reduced patrol lighting, she could make out galaxies by the score. She didn’t think she would ever get used to the immense beauty of it. Connie really loved being in space.
Chief B leaned her head out of the captain’s ready room door and motioned her in. Kelly told her to come in and have a seat at the conference table.
“Chief B is going for some tea and coffee. When she gets back, we’ll go over a schedule for drills I want to run.”
Chief B was back presently with a tray of cups, a pot of tea, and a carafe of coffee. Kelly pulled a small container of sweeteners and creamers from a shelf.
As they fixed their drink of choice, Kelly began listing the drills he wanted to concentrate on. Between the three of them, they placed the drills into the various watch schedules, to spread the training benefit to the whole crew. While they were finishing up the task, a knock came on the door and Yeoman Benitez stuck her head in the door.
“Captain, message for you from Admiral Craddock.”
Kelly frowned. A message sent through deep space comms couldn’t be good news.
“Excuse me, all. I’ll need the room.”
He took the data drive from Yeoman Benitez while they all filed out onto the bridge, leaving him alone. He fed the data into his terminal and read the screen that appeared:
To: Commanding Officer, GRS Vigilant
From: Commanding Officer, Scout Force
Subject: Change to Orders
Proceed to patrol sector vicinity Rigel-Aldebaran trade route, rendezvous with Fleet Reporting Officer Bennett. Proceed to Rigel Station and, at first opportunity, contact Mr. Roger Delphant, of Debran Industries, to arrange meeting with Mr. Friedrich Debran, re: Disappearance, in sector, of Mrs. Julia Debran and two daughters, Christine and Sylvia. Extreme pressure to locate Debran family is being placed on Fleet by Senate Defense Committee Chair. You will be senior Fleet representative in sector, pending decisions being made at Fleet HQ regarding reinforcing your mission. Fully inform Mr. Debran of our intentions to locate his family and secure their safe return. Upon completing briefing to Mr. Debran, make all efforts to locate and return three Debran women and carry out original mission. Will advise. Good luck. Good hunting.
Craddock.
He called his exec, Chief B and Yeoman Benitez back into his ready room, “Yeoman, please log this message.”
“Exec, Chief we got a doozy handed to us. It seems a Mr. Debran of Debran Industries, Inc. has misplaced his family and has the Senate putting extreme pressure on Fleet to locate them. As we will be the Fleet presence in sector for the foreseeable future, we are…no, I am tasked with meeting with Mr. Debran and giving him a warm and fuzzy.”
Kelly printed the message and handed it to Connie and Chief Blankenship to read. They each read it in turn and passed it back.
“Chief B, did you notice the name of his go between?”
“Yes, sir, I did. I wonder if he is related to the late Charles Delphant of the Indigo Consortium? He must be or it would be too large a coincidence.”
Connie looked puzzled.
“Exec, Charles Delphant was the head of the Indigo Consortium, until he died in a suspicious office fire. Company executives travelling on their ships were meeting with K’Rang agents along the frontier and passing military and other information in exchange for large quantities of flamestones. The Vigilant captured enough flamestones to finance almost half the Valiant class of scout ships. We monitored several of their meetings and even snatched some K’Rang couriers. It gave us the info we needed to ambush the K’Rang invasion fleet at New Alexandria.”
Connie’s eyes got wider and wider as Kelly recounted the Vigilant’s exploits. She realized Scout Force was far different than her life in R amp;R had been. She had a lot to learn.
Kelly put the message into his dispatch case and concentrated on finishing the drill schedule. There was little he could do until he met with Alistair and had some idea of the situation. As the meeting broke up, he had Chief B get with sensors to dig up all they could on Mr. Debran and his company. He told LTJG Cortez to increase speed to FTL Power 5. There was no use dawdling.
The luxury passenger ship bearing Julia Debran and her daughters made the perilous passage to Barataria through the Pleiades star cluster. Thorson had made the journey many times and he knew just where to travel and when to signal the recognition code. It took him three days to complete the passage, because the ship developed an unfortunate tendency to drift off course as the occasional gravity eddies would stretch out their tendrils and attempt to pull them in. It was not a life threatening issue, as a tug would come get them out if he miscalculated and got sucked in, but his professional pride would not let him get sloppy. He took it slow and arrived at the moon of Barataria only two days behind his original estimate.
As he approached the artificial moon, its massive door opened to let him inside the cavernous globe left behind by that mysterious missing civilization. He called for gate assignment and was told to dock at gate 16. Security met him at the airlock and took the Debrans off his hands. He told the security chief to make sure nothing happened to them, as he would be looking in on them. The Ascetic didn’t even respond to the poorly veiled threat, but walked off with the three women to a detention cell, until the shuttle was ready to depart for the planet. A female Ascetic gathered up some clothes for the Debrans and followed along behind.