"We have trouble on the Samson, Jake. We need you at the main cargo hatch," Laura said over the comm.
Ayan heard it; the message was broadcast over the command channel so anyone in charge of a squad or more would have. They were just setting foot on the strange, clay like soil. Most of the soldiers were making their way off the ships to secure the landing area. They were armed to the teeth and many of them donned the extreme environment layer of their armour.
Ayan's white suit started to discolour the instant she set foot on the ground, though she couldn't see much dust. The outer layer of her vacsuit shook imperceptibly every few seconds, returning it to its original colour. Clouds loomed tall and dark in the distance, rolling in over the horizon and obscuring the yellow sun. She only had a moment to glimpse the night side profile of another moon. Its shadowy outline was partially illuminated by some glowing centre of light.
Returning her attention to her more immediate environment, she looked around at the dozens of fighters and other ships that had landed all around the Clever Dream. Armed Triton personnel and deck crew were slowly making their way out of the troop carrier modules that had been installed on most of the Uriel fighters, and from what she could see they had all been overcrowded. Some passengers were so openly relieved, they stretched or sat down on the bare ground and just breathed. "Everyone should seal their vacsuits for now. That’s an order," she relayed over her communicator.
“Jake, something’s up at the main rear hatch of the Samson. Let me through!” She shouted, obviously not at him.
"I'm on my way Laura. Do you know exactly what's going on?" Ayan heard him respond.
“I’m trying to get back there, but there are too many people in the way.”
Ayan ran to the other side of the Clever Dream and saw that there was a gathering at the rear of the Samson, at the bottom of the cargo ramp. "It looks like they're prying at something in a service hatch under the Samson's reactor bay."
Jake burst into a run the moment he set foot on soil. "I'll be right there. Stephanie, I need everyone you can trust from the Clever Dream to back me up."
"Aye sir," Stephanie replied with no shortage of urgency.
Ayan didn't bother to listen to her pass the orders on, but tried to keep up with Jake as he closed the distance between him and the rear loading ramp of the Samson, where people were continuing to gather. The rear hatch was under what the Samson called the maxjack. It was a carefully constructed collection of metal bars, gripper arms, clamps and cutters. At the centre was a heavy plasma torch set on a track that ran around a fortified, extendable airlock above the main cargo ramp. The whole system was wide open, which made the rear of the Samson look as if it had thirty, twisted and curved skeletal fingers, some of which punctured the ground. The growing crowd of over two hundred didn’t seem to notice or care about how damaged some of the system looked from where Ayan was standing.
A few unarmed crew members were starting to disembark from other vessels and the commotion at the rear of the older, battered ship was drawing a lot of attention. At the base of the ramp there was a bright flash. Ayan's head's up display marked it as small arms fire, a particle weapon. There were several more flashes in succession. "What's going on?"
"Someone broke into my credit reserves, they were kept under the Samson's mass reactor," Jake replied over proximity radio. "It's all I have left. Maybe all the ready cash in the fleet."
Ayan knew her slim Freeground account with less than forty thousand credits wouldn't be much help if they were on their own, if Triton was lost. “How much is in there?” Ayan asked.
“Last I checked the tokens I have in there was worth about seven fifty.”
“Thousand?”
“Thousand. Enough molecularly stamped bullion coin to cover serious repairs on the Samson in case we were stuck somewhere without a link to a major bank, and since those banks were all run by AI’s, along with the communication systems they depended on, I’m betting its worth a lot more now.”
Ayan had seen a bullion token before, but from a distance. If what Jake had was like what she’d seen during her Junior Academy days, a thin strip of molecularly stamped platinum with lines of tiny coloured industrial diamonds set into it under a protective coating, then she could see why even crew members who weren’t normally greedy would want a piece. That kind of currency was universally recognized and trusted because of the certification of the material’s purity and how difficult it was to counterfeit.
They arrived at the edge of the crowd and several people started to run away from the landing site. "Stephanie, have a few of your people round up the runners. Make sure they take a second to show them a map. We're about eight hundred klicks from anywhere," Jacob instructed.
"I'll catch them sir," Alaka volunteered. "It won't take long."
Ayan's eyes went wide as she looked to the rear view display on her sealed hood's head's up display in time to watch a huge, dark shape dart out from under the Clever Dream and begin to close the distance between him and the runners to the west. She'd never seen a nafalli run at full speed before. Alaka's legs were powerful, long, certainly, but when he leaned forward and began to use his arms his agility and speed doubled. His armoured hands looked more like long black claws, and his movements were so graceful they were awe inspiring.
In seconds he was in front of the startled runners. He stood up to his full height and stretched his arms out to his sides. "Stay near the ship, there's no where to go, trust me."
They begrudgingly started making their way back.
Alaka took a running start right at the Samson and instead of passing under it he leapt up, ran over the mismatched plating of the hull and came down on the other side so he could pursue the rest of the runners.
"Everyone stop what you're doing!" Jake ordered.
"Why? We're just taking what you owe us!" replied a voice from the crowd. It took less than a second for Crewcast to make a match and present a picture of a former Samson crew member named Leland March. He had been recently reduced in rank to Crewman's Mate after faking qualifications and nearly single handedly destroying the Cold Reaver with a tactical blunder.
Many members of the crowd glared at Jake angrily.
"Get your ass out in front Leland!" Jake roared.
Stephanie and the rest of the security staff were catching up. Four squads, fifty six rifle bearing, fully armoured soldiers came running roughly shoulder to shoulder like a black wave to support their Captain. Other security members were closing in slowly, carefully guiding the people who hadn’t remained aboard their ships.
The crowd parted to reveal Leland March, standing over a secure ammunition crate. He had holstered his pulse pistol. Ayan didn’t bother guessing where he’d gotten it, probably from some storage locker on the Samson somewhere, but she did take note that Leland’s Crewcast profile stated that he wasn’t allowed to bear arms. The scorch marks on the ammunition container made it clear that he’d tried more than once to shoot it open.
"He's not alone, Captain," called out another man angrily. His voice was identified as Edward Sherman, and Ayan noticed a red flag, posted by Oz about an incident that took place on the flight control deck. The crowd shuffled a little so he could join Leland and hand him a cutting torch. "I think it's about time we get paid so we can get away from you and your disastrously reckless leadership."
Jake's hand came to rest on the hilt of his handgun, whether by reflex or as a foreshadow of intent, Ayan didn't hazard to guess.
Edward took an exaggerated step back, throwing his hands up. "What are you going to do now? Shoot me? I should have expected-"
"That's enough!" Jake barked. "You're taking money that we'll need for food, to buy supplies, for repairs."
"So you can what? Go after your stolen ship? Didn't anyone tell you? It's over! The Triton and whoever stayed behind are either dead or in shackles by now. I'm taking my money and signalling for a lift!" He reached down to one of the crates.
Jake twitched his sidearm out of its holster and shot Edward in the hip. Before most had realized what had happened, Jake was dropping his weapon back into its holster. "Next one won't be a stun shot!" he called out.
Edward fell to the ground flailing. Ayan knew it was nothing more than theatrics, the energy carried no force and it couldn't penetrate the man's vacsuit.
"Security Chief! Control this crowd!" Jake ordered.
Under the efficient direction of Chief Stephanie Vega, her men and two squads who arrived from another ship rushed in, took possession of the cash laden crates and separated everyone into smaller groups. Ayan couldn’t help but smile a little as she saw Stephanie yank Leland’s pistol out of its holster and tuck it into her belt.
"This is criminal! You have no authority here! I'll report you as soon as I see civilization again!" shouted Edward as he was pressed away from the Samson's main cargo ramp with a small group.
Ayan listened in on Chief Vega's instructions and watched as they were carried out with impressive efficiency. Most of the people with her were deserter Aucharian soldiers who had remained aboard shortly after Jake had taken the Triton. Several others were former Pandem rebels.
Alaka finished rounding up the runners and spotted his family. Iloona was surrounded by their children, she quietly allowed herself to be sorted off into a group on the side. Alaka didn't bother asking to see them, and no one objected when he joined them for a reunion.
The thirteen of them looked strange with their fur pressed flat under thin vacsuits, but the love of the family was plain. His older children cuddled close to their parents, two of Alaka's sons climbed on top of him, eventually settling leisurely on his shoulders.
"All right, this is going to be simple," Jake started over the general Crewcast channel. The two hundred nine people who had managed to squeeze onto the Samson were just settling, and several of them were just starting to protest their predicament.
The clouds had rolled in overhead and the first smatterings of rain were starting to fall. Ayan checked her environmental display and breathed a sigh of relief as she saw it was harmless water. It would even be clean enough to drink in a pinch. She heard the collection panels open on the Clever Dream behind her, and saw that the same was happening on several of the former raider ships.
"I can't afford to pay you full wages for your time aboard Triton," Jake started sternly. Several protesting voices began to rise and he silenced all but his own. "But I can give each of you a hundred grams in bullion coin if you're looking to walk. Most of you have valid accounts with banks that have managed to survive the Holocaust Virus and you'll be able to access them from any city. You can call for transportation as soon as you’re paid. You'll be stripped of every scrap of weaponry and equipment you picked up while you were on Triton, except for your vacsuits. If someone asks me whether you served aboard my ship, I'll deny it."
"That's unacceptable! You can't just maroon us here!" A voice Ayan's Crewcast identified as Tammy Weston, a Private who worked in the Triton hangar, called out.
"Marooned? You don't know what marooned means!" Shouted Minh-Chu, to Ayan's surprise. "This is hard, this whole situation is terrible, but he's giving you a way to leave! This is an easy door! He could take everything and tell you to pick a direction! Walk until the ground poisons your feet!" He said from the side of Slick's Uriel fighter.
She'd never seen Minh so exasperated. "Marooned!" He spat bitterly. "You take your coin and leave us behind. Don't look back, either! When we have the Triton again and you want to rejoin us for the warm quarters, good jobs, entertainment, good food and better company our doors won't open for you!"
"Thank you, Wing Commander," Jake acknowledged with a nod. "For those of you who want to stay, to work together to improve our situation. I’ve made Ayan the Master of all the ships here, and everything I own.”
The crowd was silenced at that announcement, and Ayan didn’t know how to interpret their reaction. Crewmembers who had come out of several of the vessels around them, especially the Samson, were looking from Jacob to her and back.
“She’ll contact the government here so we have a proper place to put down, to lick our wounds. The rest of your command team, myself included, will make sure we have somewhere safe to sleep, something to eat, and the supplies we need. When we start earning a gain from privateering and other efforts, then you’ll start seeing cash in your pockets. All we ask is that you give us time to get organized and that you put in as much work as you can.”
“What about the Triton?” asked someone from one of the more stable raider ships. Crewcast marked him as Garnet Ahram, a fabrication worker.
To Ayan’s surprise, Jacob hesitated.
She took the opportunity to casually step beside him. “We are sending our best scout to find out if there is anything we can do,” the chatter amongst the various crowds died to dead silence as she spoke over the general Crewcast command channel. “Judging from the most recent report from the Triton, we know that she’ll require months of repairs, during which we’ll need another place to call home. Either way, we’re going to need to make at least a temporary home somewhere, and Tamber may be the first safe refuge most of us have seen in weeks.” Ayan knew she had the undivided attention of the crowd, and despite her racing heart, she decided to be brash, and tell everyone exactly what she was thinking and what she thought she, as well as everyone else should do. “I hope that we can eventually return to the Triton, and that we can get everyone who is still aboard back safely. I can’t do anything to influence that outcome right now, few of us can, but we can work to ensure that we all have what we need to survive. Most of us are starting over, myself included, and I’m going to start building something right now. I’m going to start by getting us proper landing permits, a privateers licence, and anything else the Carthan government can give us that will provide opportunities. We have an entire combat wing of top notch starfighters, ships that we can repair and improve, and we have each other. I have been in many situations during my military career where I couldn’t dream of having so many advantages. Now if you want to leave, it will be without disgrace. Be patient, follow Security Chief Vega’s instructions, and you’ll be on your way to a major city in no time. As for the rest of you, thank you for remaining. Stay close to your loved ones, and follow directions. I hope to have us set up in a proper port shortly.”
Ayan watched Jake look over the crowd, clenching and unclenching his jaw for several seconds. As the sound of someone speaking just began to break the silence he interrupted them; "Chief Vega! Two lines! Deserters to port," Jake barked, pointing to the port side of the Samson. "Loyal crew to starboard!" He finished, pointing to the starboard side.
As the orders were carried out Ayan looked back to Minh, who was taking a seat in front of Slick in his Uriel fighter. "Good luck Minh, be safe."
“We should be back in a few hours. Slick has an extra pair of generators loaded, should be a nice, quick trip."
"Just don’t let one of those beam weapons get a bead on you."
"Don’t worry, I know exactly where to hide."
Lightning flashed, lighting the darkening landscape for an instant. "Don’t get cocky out there you two,” Jake commented.
"If you’re that worried, why don’t you go check on him yourself in the Clever Dream? "
"We need it here for her medical bay and the materializer. It's best if we risk as little as possible on intelligence gathering," Jake replied calmly. “That, and the cloaking systems probably wouldn’t work properly in a nebula that dense.”
“Excuses, excuses. You two just want to stay behind and snog in the Captain’s quarters,” Minh teased, closing his connection to the channel reserved for former First Light crew.
The Uriel fighter's thrusters rotated and fired, pushing it swiftly off the ground and high up into the air. "I'll make sure he doesn't do anything you'll regret," Slick said on the general command channel.
She watched the fighter rise swiftly and take off over the horizon. Ayan couldn't shake a sinking feeling that threatened to overwhelm her.
"He'll be fine," Jake reassured quietly.
"There's no way anyone can know that. He's going to do something desperate and we’re backing him."
Jake took her by the shoulders and turned her towards him. He retracted his headpiece, the horizontal armoured slats folded into each other and settled onto his chest and back. "If he were alone I'd agree with you, but he's not. Slick is with him and he'll keep things sane."
Ayan looked up at him quietly. He was steady, reassuring, and confident. It didn't stop a lump from rising in her throat, or tears from brimming. She deactivated her communications and the face plate to her vacsuit hood to hide the tears she knew she couldn't stop. "Things have to get better, I hate having the feeling that we’ll never see Oz, Jason, or anyone from the Triton again."
"I know, I hate not being able to do anything about this myself," Jake said quietly.
"I just wish I felt better about Minh and Slick’s chances of getting in and out of there," Ayan managed.
Jake put his arm around her waist and deactivated his proximity radio so no one could overhear what he had to say. "Minh is good at what he does, so is Slick. They're too slippery to catch. Where’d all the positivity go?"
"I think it’s just hitting me now that we’ve landed and things have quieted down a bit. I should have more faith, I know." she watched as the line of deserters, as Jake had called them, was slowly led past the crate of credits. Chief Vega's people handed each of them a rectangular silver coin that glinted purple when it caught the light. The line of deserters had grown to hundreds while she wasn't looking, other deserters had joined them from the other ships.
"Things are bad now, but I'll bet the best are staying with us,"
"I know. I'm actually looking forward to visiting Greydock, it's just…" Ayan sighed deeply and looked up to Jake. "It's like all the good, all the bad, whatever it is, it all happens at once. It's hard to control things when they just seem to happen to us. I want to turn things around, start making the terms, come around to being proactive. " She paused a moment as someone ran from the back of the deserter line to the much shorter loyal line. "As ludicrous as that sounds considering our predicament," she chortled.
"I'm on the same page. I think we can start by getting everything we can here. You ever negotiate a contract before?"
“Not since mock scenarios in advanced officer training.”
“Considering how you took control of the crowd and raised spirits here, I’d say your officer training stuck. We’ll be all right,” he replied with a slight smile. "Feeling better?"
"Much." Ayan stepped away and shook her head. "God, I was never this emotional before. It's like I had some kind of hardener the first time 'round." Ayan's eye was drawn to the quickly growing pile of command and control units and other equipment of every shape and size on the Samson's cargo ramp. If they could wipe the memories, they would have something to sell on the open market, if that sort of thing was permitted in Greydock.
"I like it," Jake said quietly as he watched the slow progression in front of them. The ground was slowly turning to thick mud under the increasing weight of the rain.
Ayan could see the stone faced facade that Jake wore so well was settling back into place, but took great comfort in the new assurance that she could call the man she wanted to know back when she wanted him, when she needed him.
Things got worse as the crowd of equipment stripped deserters grew. They stood waiting for transport to arrive, with the few things they could take with them from the Triton, a survival package with contained three days worth of meal replacement bars, water, an ultra-thin cot, a basic communicator and a dual purpose cutting tool plus fire starter. Ayan and Jake moved so they could stand within ten meters of the space they were handing out the coins and she found herself looking for Leland March and Edward Sherman, the worst of the trouble makers.
She was still scanning the line when Laura surprised her from behind with a fervent hug. They had been friends for years, and seeing her intact, in person was an incredible comfort. "God, you wouldn't believe the mess that ship is in. I'm sure its being held together with sealant tape and hull filler. Scratch that, we ran out of hull filler and started using deck sheeting," Laura told her with a chuckle.
Ayan squeezed her playfully. "It's so good to see you, I'm sorry if it seemed I had reservations about Minh checking after the Triton. I didn't mean to come off like-"
"Don't worry, I know you want to see Jason and Oz back here as much as I do, but you don’t want to lose someone else. I live with an intelligence agent, remember? If anyone understands the necessity for economical personnel use, it's the wife of a spook."
"You know, I never thought that would rub off on you," Ayan smiled.
"This'll come back on you, Captain," spat someone as they passed by as they flashed their hundred gram coin. The hate etched on his face was intense as he regarded Jake, obviously the person the dissenter thought was responsible for all his problems. Ayan faintly recalled that he was one of the crew members they'd rescued from Pandem and had to stop herself from shaking her head. "Would you rather we left you behind Verain?" Ayan asked.
"White doesn't suit you, you should all be wearing red. Blood red," he told her, his cold green eyes looking straight into hers.
"If you want to stay for better days, we'll give you your comm unit and put you in the other line. Otherwise, get ready for pickup," Jake snapped as he whirled on the older man.
"How many do you think are left?" asked Laura as the older fellow moved on.
"Crewcast says there are still six hundred thirty connected to the network." Ayan replied. “I’m pretty sure Chief Vega disconnected everyone who stepped into the deserter line.”
"I did," Stephanie confirmed curtly.
"Good thinking, Chief," Ayan said with a slight smile.
The only acknowledgement was a solemn nod as she watched one of her people hand the next person in line a coin from the emptying ammunition crate.
"I hope that's not all Jake has," Laura said quietly.
"It's one of four cases."
"That's not much for eight hundred people."
"I know. Hopefully we can pick up a privateering licence and do some easy privateering. I'll be visiting the governor's office as soon as I can."
"When?"
"I was thinking Jake could call in another transport for me and a security team when he calls for their ship. So in about forty minutes."
"That quick?" Laura asked, surprised.
"There's no point in waiting. The sooner we get-" Ayan’s eye caught Leland March and Edward Sherman then and she couldn't believe what she was seeing.
"What?" Laura asked as Ayan regarded her with astonishment.
"Those two, Leland and Edward, they started this whole scene."
Laura turned to face the pair, who where chatting quietly, but enthusiastically. "And now they're in the loyal line."
"I'd bet what's left of the Samson that Leland was the one who showed the passengers where my emergency funds are kept," Jake added in over the private comm.
“This might not be the time to bring this up, but those two were part of a group that started a fire in a Botanical Gallery apartment before we abandoned ship.”
“Now is the perfect time to bring it up,” Jacob said, not letting the outrage he must have been feeling creep into his stony expression. “But if I haul them off the line and strap them to the nose of the Samson right now, it won’t help anything. They’ll get what’s coming to them.”
Ayan wasn’t aware he was listening in, but wasn't surprised considering how quickly things were happening. "What do you want to do?"
"I'll put Leland to work, same with his new friend. If I get the time I'll make sure to have a conversation with them one on one."
"Don't do anything you'll regret, Jacob," Ayan whispered so only Laura could overhear.
"With people like March there's no need. He'll crap himself the instant he realizes I've got him alone. As for the other one, I'll get Stephanie to talk to him. If I take the time to do it personally he'll just feel that he's even more important."
"Why don't you get Alaka to do it? If you're going further down the chain, you may as well use the anchor."
Jake chuckled ruefully. "What I'd give to be a fly on the wall. Good idea. It's not like Steph isn't busy as it is."
Ayan's tactical alarm went off. Every officer’s command and control unit notified them that there were several armed ships coming in from the northwest. "Lewis, can you scan them?"
"They are Carthan customs vessels, five in total. I'm reading over five hundred small arms and it looks like they're made for quick boarding or deployment action. They should break cloud cover shortly."
"Thank you Lewis. Do you think we should get everyone back on the ships Jake?"
"No, we're going to continue as we are. They are probably coming to inspect us and have a word."
"Have you ever dealt with anything like this?" asked Laura.
"The Samson has been inspected by customs more times than I can count. The big problem we have here are all the people looking for refugee status. We'll have to keep them calm and make sure the customs officials can get their terms to everyone, otherwise this could get bad fast. Ayan, you'll have to do the talking. The Carthans may not want us, but I'd still rather not let on that there are Samson crew here unless we absolutely have to."
"All right, everyone who was on the Samson crew, cover up," Stephanie ordered. Everyone who served on the Samson activated their armoured vacsuit hood and made their faceplates opaque. After a moment she added; "Too conspicuous. Okay, everyone in security and wearing armour, cover up."
"Good thinking, Chief," Jake said. "March! Cover up!"
Ayan looked to where Leland was still having a lively discussion with Edward and saw that his comm unit was blinking, but he was paying no attention.
The five eighty meter long ships broke through the crowd cover behind him, they were less than a kilometre away and slowing their quick descent. The heavy rain ran off the edges of their green and grey armoured hulls as they drifted downward in a precise formation. They would come down all around them.
"Bloody idiot," Stephanie muttered, heard by everyone on the command and security channels. Ayan watched her stride purposefully towards Leland, who didn't notice until she was within two meters. As soon as he did, he flinched visibly, momentarily trying to put several people between himself and the Security Chief. "Seal up your suit and black out your faceplate you git! Look! Custom's ships are coming!" She pointed exaggeratedly.
It was as though he was the last to notice, and he may as well have been, since the low rumbling sound of their antigravity emitters were just kicking in and the air was stirred by a slight vibration. The high pitched hiss of the rain around the ships being pressed at speed by the nearest vessel's antigravity systems filled the air. It was unlike anything Ayan had ever heard, and she was thankful that it lessened as their ship landed.
Stephanie shook her head as March simply gawked at the nearest ship, not bothering to close his faceplate. She irritably activated it for him using her command unit and went back to stand with a small group of similarly clad guards so she could mix in with the crowd.
"Removing rankings, normalizing colours," Jake said quietly. All rank insignia disappeared from their vacsuits. The deserter line's suits turned light yellow while everyone else's were turned black with the exception of Ayan and Laura's suits. They were singled out in white.
"So you know, all I have to lean on here is the diplomacy and encounter training that I had in the Academy. You might want to pick a few assistants for me, Jake," Ayan said worriedly.
"Relax, you'll be fine. Give these stiffs whatever they want except for command access to the Clever Dream and the Samson."
Ayan watched as the ships slowly touched down. As soon as the broad landing feet grazed the ground broad ramps extended and troop doors opened. In seconds there was a hovering skiff pad bearing a woman in a long, green hooded cloak and several heavily armed soldiers around her. Beneath the cloak she wore a dark brown uniform, the breast of the suit jacket was held together with several glimmering silver chains and Ayan could see that the woman wore a silken garment that had many small folds underneath. The uniform was stately, almost ornate. The woman who wore it looked as though she was chiselled from stone, her features were sharp, she was tall and her long blonde hair was pulled back into a tight single braid.
Soldiers baring long rifles and wearing heavy, plated armour topped by darkened, angular helmets stepped onto smaller skiffs and began deploying around the fighters. They look as intimidating as the Triton security teams must to outsiders. This isn't going to be easy. Ayan thought to herself as she fought down rising nervousness.
"I understand why you're singled out, but what am I doing in white?" Laura asked in a low whisper as she watched a squad of fourteen Triton soldiers rush to stand in formation behind them. In the hazardous environment armour, covered in thin, horizontal metal slats, they looked as imposing, if not a little more strange than the Carthan soldiers.
"I think you're here for support," Ayan muttered back, watching the lead official draw closer by the second. She didn't seem bothered by the rain in the least, even though much of it was spattering against her uniform jacket. "I'm guessing this isn't a typical reception Jake?"
"No, it isn't, but they’re probably pretty wary these days, considering the way the last couple months have being going."
"I know, I'll do my best."
"Just remember what we need. Transportation for the deserters, somewhere we can make repairs, bargain for parts, supplies and a privateering contract would be nice. Stay focused.
Ayan didn't acknowledge that she'd taken his instructions in, the skiff carrying the Customs official stopped within two meters of her.
The Customs Officer's cold grey eyes regarded Ayan passively. "I am Carthan Colonel Miriam Davies. Before we discuss anything I must inform you that if any more of your fighters attempt to traverse our air or orbital space without clearance before powering up, they will be destroyed. You are also not permitted to use any of these ships for general transportation until we've completed our inspection."
"I am Commander Ayan, we-"
"Do you understand my instructions?" interrupted the Colonel.
"Aye, you were perfectly clear," Ayan let her British accent slip more when she was irritated, and the woman hovering in front of her was instantly frustrating to speak with. She'd dealt with commanding officers exactly like her, and consciously decided to keep her temper in check. "We'll be sure to get clearance for any departures."
"To be clear, your pilot acquired clearance; he just waited until he broke the hundred meter ceiling before requesting it. In my book, that’s backwards thinking, and people who operate like that don’t go far where I come from. Now what is your business here?" The Colonel said as she coolly ran her gaze across the myriad of ships behind Ayan.
"Our first priority here is to provide these refugees an opportunity to visit a civilized port where they can try and get home, or contact relations."
"These people don't look like refugees, they're too well dressed, too well taken care of."
"We took care of them and in return they worked with our staff."
"There isn't enough room in these ships for these people. Is there another ship we're not seeing? Something outside the solar system or in another port?"
"What you see is all we have left. Most of these people are refugees, we had to make do until we could make it to the nearest civilized system. That led us-"
"Where are your refugees from?"
"We have refugees from Enreega, Pandem and a slaver ship."
"That leads me to my next question; are you aware that one of these ships was stolen from a Carthan ship yard five years ago? It was last in the possession of a Captain James Gammin, registered to the Palamo, a carrier wanted for piracy."
Ayan was genuinely surprised, even though she knew she shouldn't be, and she kicked herself for not checking the names of each of their ships in the Carthan Port database. She had only checked the Clever Dream and the Samson. "I had no id-"
"Clueless. I hope you're not the real leader here. Then again, it might explain why you're so anxious to dump these people off onto the Carthan government. Corporal Lakam, lead a team onto the Jolly Holler and take possession. Assess its flight worthiness."
Ayan knew the ship she was talking about. It was a forty-two meter long ship in fairly good condition, one of the few ships that surrendered before taking serious damage in Ossimi Ring. "Colonel, my people have done work on that ship to make it space worthy and have left personal possessions aboard."
"We're taking that ship, Commander. You're in no legal or tactical position to stop us."
"Fine, just give us some time to get our things and some of the materials we used so we can use them to repair our other ships."
The Colonel looked at the long, irregular hauler and nodded. "I can't see how you could make things worse. You have fifteen minutes, and don't take any fixtures, regardless of when they were added."
"We're on it," Jake said over her personal comm. Seconds later most of the loyal crewmembers arranged in lines started running to the Jolly Holler."
"Begin a high powered sensor sweep of the ships and the individuals here," the Colonel ordered to one of the soldiers at her side.
He pressed several buttons on a pad affixed to his thigh and nodded. "The teams are on it."
"Thank you," the Colonel turned back to Ayan and asked; "Now, is everyone here requesting refugee status?"
"No, only the people in that line and that group there," Ayan pointed to the deserter line and the milling crowd at one end.
"So the majority, I see." The Colonel seemed to ponder the situation as she looked over the gathering of starfighters and more heavily damaged ships.
"We're also looking to-"
"How did you come to command this group?"
Ayan's temper flared, but she kept it in check — mostly. "I can't see how that's any of your business."
"Really?" asked the Colonel, focusing her attention on Ayan again.
"None," Ayan said flatly. "We have needs, and I'd like to see if we can be attended to. These refugees aren't without means, only access. Most of them have accounts with reputable banks. They only need secure access to finance their own transport off this moon to a more familiar place."
"And those who don't have funds?"
"We've provided each with one hundred weight bullion, enough for them to try and get a start. We only need to transport them to a friendly port."
"I'm afraid that isn't going to happen. I'm denying your people refugee status."
"What?" Ayan burst.
"The Carthan government can't afford to take in more strays. You'll have to send them to one of the unofficial ports, like Port Rush. It's just over there. It’s a free port, they can do whatever they want there. I hear you can even get banking services for a price."
"Can we get clearance to begin transporting people there?"
"We'll see what this inspection turns up," the Colonel said as she activated a holographic display that projected from the palm of her hand. Rain drops made small spots in the image for a moment as they passed through. She nodded to herself as she read the information on the Clever Dream, satisfied that it was registered to Ayan and moved on to the Samson. "Sold to you by Captain Jacob Valance yesterday. How is it that his ship is here and I don't see him?"
"I took it while he was in the shower," Ayan sneered. Her patience was already beyond frayed.
The Colonel smiled thinly and looked down at her with a raised eyebrow. "You know, I almost believe you. Did you take it in our space?"
"No."
"Then I suggest you get a registry slip printed for each of that and each of your ships. The fighters especially. It says here that they were manufactured for your use on a vessel called the Triton."
"Our larger ship."
"Well, we don't have any record of it, so you'll have to get those tied to you on secure slips so we have something more difficult to counterfeit next time you run into us. Do you have any kind of receipt of sale to prove that you paid for these or had any kind of command authority to order their construction?"
"I'm a senior officer on the Triton."
"Do you have any evidence of that? A manifest? A service record?"
Ayan couldn't stand it any longer, and brought up the senior officer list for the Triton. In the space of seconds it was hovering between them on a large hologram. At the top were Jacob and Ayan.
"Can you pass the record on to me please?"
"No, you don't have the rank," Ayan said quietly. "If you can get me in front of someone who can approve a multi-role close combat carrier and a crew of two thousand or more for Privateering, like a representative of the Governor’s Office, then I'll be happy to cooperate."
"You know, I could revoke your landing rights and send you on-"
"No, you won't. Your government needs privateers with the means and equipment to fight. The Order of Eden is everywhere, Regent Galactic is closing in along with them, and you don't have enough ships," Ayan growled.
The Colonel pretended to ignore everything Ayan said, straightened up and announced; "The scan didn't pick up any illegal materials, only a few weapons that won't be permitted within the city limits of Greydock. Here's a list, along with our laws. Be sure that your crew, even the refugees, gets a copy."
"We need clearance for a ship to go to Greydock so I can negotiate the terms of a privateering contract,"
"You won't be getting it. All your vessels are forbidden to leave this area. If one takes off, we'll be forced to destroy it from orbit. Have a nice day, Commander." The Colonel smirked.
"I was instructed to visit the Office of the Governor upon landing."
"If you come with me I'll be more than happy to provide you with transportation. You and your aide are welcome."
"They come with me," Ayan said, nodding towards two of the armoured Triton soldiers behind her.
"They leave their rifles here. Sidearms only."
"Thank you," Ayan forced.
One of Triton’s security personnel walked to Ayan's side hastily and handed her a courier bag. "Someone said you'd need this," he told her quietly before retreating back to his place beside Jake and Stephanie.
"Follow me please," said the Colonel as her small skiff turned towards the large customs ship.