Birthright: Battle for the Confederation- Crusade Read online

  “So it won’t show up as an asset of yours,” Elco mused, “and it will take standard military accounting years to figure that out.”

  “Decades, probably,” Loren corrected.

  “Good enough for me, at least. Take that ship, then, Loren,” Elco made an elaborate gesture of holding out his hand to Cory, “if it’s okay with the owners.”

  Loren and Web stood before the Pair of Aces and took her in. Cory and Merritt had gone back and forth about the name for weeks, but it was finally decided in Merritt’s favor. Probably.

  Pair of Aces was a short ranged transport, able to reach only two or three star systems before a refuel and resupply was needed. It had a streamlined and pointed forward crew compartment that held the bridge and many of the ship systems. This was followed by a length of bulky cargo hold which featured a large side-opening door and boarding ramp, with crew quarters and a galley area stuffed against the far bulkhead, finally leading back to the engines. It was designed to be a low maintenance, highly automated design, and if operating without cargo, could be safely run by a single person. At about one hundred fifty feet in length, it was too big for Avenger to store aboard, so Captain Elco had gotten Admiral Illam to store it aboard his flagship while they figured out what to do with it.

  Loren and Web had each been threatened individually by Cory and Merritt with what would happen to them if the two came back without the ship, and they had taken it seriously.

  Web walked up to the main crew hatch and punched in the access code while Loren studied their ride. It was a twenty year old design, which wasn’t old at all as far as interstellar transports went. The ship had her fair share of dings and dents, though there did appear to be a somewhat recent coat of paint and signs pointed to regular upkeep.

  “Web, did you bring the sandwiches?” Loren asked.

  “What?” was Web’s reply.

  “Sandwiches,” Loren repeated. “I remember saying something about bringing something other than flavor-and-eat ration bars, and suggested sandwiches.” He looked at the rather large duffel bags Web was carrying. “If that’s not food, what could you possibly have in there?”

  Web set down the duffels and unzipped them, indicating the contents. “This one is weapons,” he gestured to the first. Loren peeked in and saw a pair of HMR-12 assault rifles, a couple SSK pistols, flashbang grenades, explosive det cord, ammo, some other small explosive charges, and an array of other nonlethal weaponry. “This one,” he pointed to the second, “is comm gear, Garrett’s money, and some civilian clothes.”

  Loren looked at Web carefully. “Does Avenger’s armory know you took off with that much firepower? They might not be able to repel boarders if something happens. You have all the guns.”

  “You’re saying I overdid it?” asked Web with a straight face.

  “Pretty sure. This is a low key, short, clandestine meeting. Do you have anything that doesn’t proclaim us to be an invading Confed army in there?”

  Web proudly nodded and extracted a pair of handguns that looked remarkably like the SSKs they were both wearing. “These are SDF Compacts,” he said proudly. “Made by the same company that makes the SSK, but for the civilian market. They have a slightly lower energy output and aren’t quite as indestructible, but I modified them to have the double-tap feature the military version does.” Web showed them to Loren like a proud parent.

  “You and Halley would have amazing children, Web, and I meant that in the most neutral way possible.” He said it with a grin, but could only imagine the offspring of the two most attack-minded people he knew. “I brought the sandwiches, anyway,” he said, indicating his own duffel. “Cassie would have badgered me into taking something decent to eat, and I guess she still has that influence over me.”

  Web was gratified to hear Loren talk about his wife so lightheartedly. It was apparent that the mission to investigate a possible cure was keeping his hopes high. He just hoped Loren wasn’t disappointed.

  They boarded through the portside crew hatch and turned right, towards the aft, to stow their gear. They entered the small galley area, which led off to crew quarters on one side of the cargo bay.

  “I claim the Captain’s compartment,” Loren stated.

  “You realize Merritt and Cory spent some time in this bucket before the rest of us got onboard, right?” Web added cautiously. “They may already have, um, claimed the Captain’s cabin.”

  “Hmmm,” Loren added thoughtfully, pondering the implications of that. “You may be right, Web. In that case, I get first pick of what’s left.”

  Fifteen minutes later, after a thorough preflight and familiarization, Web gently lifted the Aces off the deck as Loren got final clearance from Gallant’s flight controller. With a nod to the deckhand with the lighted wands, Loren indicated Web was clear to follow. Web goosed the reaction thrusters and moved out onto the catapult pad, hovering into the position the ‘shooter’ indicated. Web kept the throttles at idle as he raised the gear, and watched the autolaunch system go from red to green, indicating that the Gallant’s autolaunch computer was now in control of Aces.

  Web took his hands off the controls and put them in his lap as the shooter outside cleared the area. The man gave Web a salute and thumbs-up, then pointed out the end of the hangar bay. Web waited, then felt the gradual but rapidly building acceleration as the Gallant’s tractor projectors threw Aces out of the ship. As soon as they were clear, Web took the controls again and began following the departure path he was assigned while Loren got the sign-off from Gallant’s flight controller. Web flicked a switch, telling the computer it was clear to take the ship into hyperspace on their flight plan, then pushed the throttles up into the hyperdrive detent and waited. A second later, the Pair of Aces accelerated and was gone.

  Web watched the readouts on the monitors ahead of him in a daze. He was starting to zone out from staring at the console so long with nothing really to do for the ship. He could look forward to another eight hours in hyperspace before they got to their rendezvous with Garrett, and Loren still wasn’t back from the Engineering spaces yet to keep him company.

  Almost as soon as that thought rolled through his mind, the bridge hatch swooshed open and Loren returned, a triumphant look on his face. He dropped into the copilot’s seat to the right of Web.

  “I take it you’ve decided on a course of action?” Web asked.

  “Definitely,” Loren replied. “Now, you and I both agree that if those two are going to keep this ship, they’ll need to make some improvements, right?”

  “Of course. This thing will never handle like a Talon, but there’s a lot of potential.”

  “Exactly,” replied Loren with a grin. “Ok, the company that makes these also makes three other transports using the same basic spaceframe, two of which are noticeably bigger. The parts are fairly common to all four designs, so we can swap between all the different models with some modifications.”

  “Define ‘some’, please,” Web suggested.

  “Nothing the machine shops aboard Avenger and some talented people can’t handle. Anyway, I’m having a great time here, don’t interrupt,” Loren continued with a grin. “We can take the compressors from the next smaller model, the mixing chambers from this ship, and the hot section hardware from the next larger unit. We’d have to hack into the cargo hold, probably lose about a third of the cargo capacity, but I doubt these two are going to haul freight with this ship, right?”

  “You’d have to reprogram the computer, too.”

  “Yeah, I’m less good with that, but I’m sure we’ll find somebody.”

  “Actually,” said Web, “I can do that. Before I was a manly adventurer, I used to be a bit of a computer nerd. I can reprogram the main computer board by adding in another board that I can make out of parts and software code on Avenger. If you can find the mechanicals for them and lay it out, I can handle the programming so this ship knows what the hell just happened to it!”

  “Incoming ships out of hyperspace detected
by our long range sensor drones, Captain,” announced the Lieutenant at the Sensors station.

  “Ours?” asked Elco neutrally.

  “They’re broadcasting friendly transponders and on a programmed vector. Standby, beacons coming in through the database now.” The young man worked his station, sending the data to the main viewscreen in the front of Avenger’s bridge.

  Elco saw the ships, an element of three. Being too far for visual contact, the computer simply created the ships as small 3d models in the holo field as they progressed inbound. A large window on the far side of the main screen showed data about the new arrivals.

  It was the Enkarran ship Union, escorted by two others of the same cruiser class.

  “Well,” said Elco without moving his jaw. “Looks like reinforcements are here…”

  “Any orders, Captain?” the Lieutenant asked. He was used to Captain Elco having a quick response to any situation; seeing him just pondering the Enkarran ships was new and possibly cause for a bit of unease.

  “We’re supposed to be allies now, so I suppose you should transmit the latest orders and force updates,” Elco grudgingly replied. “Let me know if they send us anything as well.”

  “Aye, Sir,” was barely out of the man’s mouth when the communication system logged an incoming message.

  “Captain,” said the officer at the Comm station. “We’ve just received a new message. It’s from the ship calling itself Union, and addressed directly to you with a ‘personal’ tag.”

  So there it is, Elco thought. A building sense on unease roiled in his gut. If he had to guess, he’d figure that it was Union’s captain, trying to clear the air between them, for their brief but violent history as adversaries would need addressing if they were going to operate together. He considered attending to one of the many other tasks facing him, but finally admitted that he should just get this over with.

  “Send it to the screen in C3’s briefing room,” he directed to the comm technician, then got up to head to the stairs along the exterior bulkhead to go down a deck. For some reason, he felt older at that moment.

  Elco settled himself comfortably into the chair at the head of the conference table. He remained still for almost a minute, trying to calm and clear his mind. He knew the difference between his rational and emotional response to the message, and still it was hard to reconcile. Might as well get on with it.

  He stabbed the spot on the touchscreen panel of the table in front of him, then watched as a video window opened on the large viewscreen along the forward bulkhead.

  “Captain Elco,” the message began. The Enkarran there was typical of the species; a bit shorter than Human standard, with dark, slightly-smaller-than Human eyes as well. He seemed to be in a private space by himself, probably his cabin. The man seemed somber as he spoke, and was either a very competent public speaker or had rehearsed this speech thoroughly. “I am Captain Josias Krent of the Enkarran ship Union. I am sure you are aware of the, arrangement, we have made with the Confederation. I felt I owed you the effort of a personal message. Not about our orders or fleet plans, but about our past history.” Finally, the Enkarran did falter a bit, appearing to search for words. “I know we have been on opposite sides of this conflict, and that our people struck first. I can only apologize for the loss of life and mourn the deaths both of our ships have suffered at each other’s hands. I can’t make excuses for our actions themselves; we were fighting for our people, much like I assume you would in any similar situation. I just felt as thought it would be appropriate to open some sort of dialogue with you. I remain available to you if you wish to contact me, but I will not bring this matter up again unless you wish. With respect.” He nodded before he broke the link.

  Damn, Elco thought. It would have been a lot easier if he’d either gloated or not said anything at all. Now I have to decide if I should say something or just let it go. At least that decision could wait for a little while. All the commanding officers were due for a daily briefing onboard Gallant later that day, and Elco had until then before he met Krent face to face.

  Chapter 5

  Pair of Aces passed an outer marker buoy for Lordes System Control. They’d made contact and been assigned an entry corridor, which they were following now. Loren sat at the helm, having told Web that it was about time he got to fly something again. Web, in response, had good-naturedly offered to give Loren some refresher flight training in case he’d forgotten how to fly, land, or both. Loren had replied with a gesture which didn’t mean anything polite, no matter where in the galaxy you tried it.

  “Pair of Aces,” came the voice through the speaker. “I’m switching you to Station Control. See you on the way out.” Loren watched as the colossal station grew larger and larger in the viewport ahead of him. The planet Lordes was actually ringed with dozens of stations, from manufacturing and processing facilities, to storage and repair. Everything of note, however, took place on the largest of the bunch, simply called The Station. Everything was brought in from other orbiting platforms to be transferred to ships on The Station, which kept spacelanes orderly. Loren didn’t remember the specs offhand, but there were dozens of exterior slips that could hold container ships as large as a Sabre class carrier, as well as over a hundred internal docking bays for smaller vessels. Aces was actually headed to a different area, where ships stopped only for parking, and were thus crammed into much tighter spaces.

  “Pair of Aces,” came a new voice through the speaker, audio only. “Parking slip three five zero is open and ready. Been here before?”

  “Negative, Control,” Web answered. “We’ll take any pointers you have.” One universal constant was the stereotype of the grumpy and obstinate freighter captain, and the best way to keep the waters smooth was to let the controllers know from the get-go that you were open to suggestion.

  “Nothing unusual, Aces. Just wait till the blast door closes before you drop your ramp. An inspector will be there to check you in and collect landing fees. Since you’re in three-fifty, you probably don’t have any large cargo waiting, so just let the inspector know what your schedule is and he’ll assign you a rough departure slot if you have one in mind. Enjoy the show.”

  “Thanks, Control,” Web replied dutifully. He turned to Loren. “So. I’ll go hide the guns.”

  The inspector was pleasant enough and sent them on their way, but not before Loren had armed the security system that Aces had onboard. That was something Cory and Merritt would have to upgrade, as well.

  They wandered the station, making their way through the shipping areas towards the commercial zones, which got busier and busier as they got closer to the core areas. The core was where the real dealing took place- it was a city in itself, with living quarters, shopping, plazas, and more. The variety of life forms at the station was a marvel; there were plenty of the species Loren would have expected from this part of space: Human, Drisk, Qualin, Trin, and more. But there were also plenty of species from clear across the galaxy, something Loren appreciated. Variety was the spice of life, after all, and seeing all the different life forms and cultures was one of the reasons Loren had signed up with Confed in the first place. Confed’s ships spent most of their time in their own space, with the occasional tour through other kingdoms all over the known galaxy for missions such as combined training exercises, show-the-flag missions, and diplomatic honor guard escort, and Loren had always enjoyed the chance to see something new.

  They took their time, practicing a little tradecraft in watching for tails by changing positions relative to each other and clearing their own sixes. Eventually, they made their way to a popular entertainment spot, a combination restaurant/entertainment complex. As instructed by Garrett, they made their way to the bar and found a booth near the back where they could keep an eye on things. It was after the supper hour but before the nightlife really took off, so the crowds were reasonable.

  Loren was impressed by the bustle in a space station smack dab in the middle of a galactic warzone, but he
had learned a few things that were already common knowledge to commercial shippers. The Primans were, for the most part, leaving commercial shipping alone, unless there was reason to believe that there was government involvement. The Primans were attempting to show the inhabitants of contested territories that they were only after the governments, not the people themselves, and it had been their policy to keep a low profile when it came to commercial ventures.

  Thus, the crowd in The Station was diverse, upbeat, and driven.

  They waited only a few minutes before they spotted Garrett threading his way through the gathering bar patrons. He slid into the booth with Loren, opposite Web.

  “Good evening, gentlemen,” he started cordially.

  “I hope it will be,” replied Loren lightly. “You sounded optimistic when we talked. But I’ve forgotten how these things are done, haven’t I?” Loren looked around and found a server, beckoning him over. They all ordered drinks, which Loren paid for. They were brought out quickly, and the conversation continued.

  “There’s hope for you yet, Mr. Stone,” Garrett quipped. “Be a good host and keep the clients happy, that’s one of the first things you learn when you’re in business for yourself.”

  “Just enjoy that ten credit drink,” Web added with a wry grin, “Confed’s paying for us to polish up our social graces, I guess.”

  Garrett just inclined his glass towards Web in reply.

  “Well then, down to business,” Garrett said seriously. “You need to find something Priman in Enkarran space. I’ve got tabs on a lot of their shipping and construction, even some personnel movements.”