Cole smiled as he regarded Wixil while they waited. He remembered the shy young Ghrexel he’d met in Pyllesc a little over four years ago and felt a surge of pride at how far she’d come. He made a mental note to ask Yeleth if her people had any kind of ceremony marking one’s transition to adulthood just as the hatch irised open to admit Admiral Trask and his party.
“Welcome aboard Haven, Admiral,” Cole said, taking a half-step forward and extended his hand.
Trask approached Cole and accepted the handshake as his people filed into the dining room behind him, saying, “Thank you, Mr. Coleson. You have a truly remarkable ship.”
“I thought we were past the ‘Mr. Coleson’ bit. Please, call me Cole, and allow me to introduce my people. I’m sure you all recognize Commander Sasha Thyrray, my first officer. Yeleth is Ship’s Purser. Colonel Harlon Hanson commands the ships’ marines, and Colonel Emily Vance commands the ship’s flight crew. The gentleman is Garrett, my oldest friend, and beside him is Wixil. Wixil is the Alpha Shift helm officer.”
Trask greeted each person as Cole introduced him or her, shaking hands.
“Well, if I may return the favor,” Trask said, “this is my chief of staff, Commander Jacob Tucker; my flag captain, Captain Carl Jackson; my staff intelligence officer, Commander Victoria Brown; Indomitable’s Sergeant-at-Arms, CPO Alexandra McKee; Spacer-First-Class Kayla White, an Engineering rating; and Spacer-Third-Class Arthur Gaines. From what Captain Jackson tells me, Mr. Gaines hasn’t specialized yet, as he just promoted out of Spacer-Recruit on the journey here.”
Cole moved down the line, shaking each person’s hand as Trask introduced him or her and reiterating his welcome. When Trask introduced Spacer-Third Gaines, the young man’s cheeks colored a bright red at all the attention.
Cole smiled as he approached him and, as he shook Gaines’s hand, said, “Congratulations on your promotion, Mr. Gaines, and welcome.”
Spacer-Third Gaines jerked a nervous nod as Cole stepped away and led his people to the side of the table where they’d face the hatch. The table had seven chairs on either side, and Cole walked to the center chair on his side. Trask mirrored him, and he and Cole left their people to sort out their seating order on their own. The last person hadn’t even made contact with his seat when the hatch irised open once more to admit two stewards carrying menu tablets. The stewards passed out the menus and took drink orders.
Once the stewards were on their way, Cole looked to Trask and said, “So, Admiral, how many of your people want to join you in coming to work with us?”
“All of them,” Trask replied. “That’s why I extended your invitation to CPO McKee, Spacer-First White, and Spacer-Third Gaines. I wanted to ensure as many of us were represented as possible.”
“That’s impressive,” Cole replied.
“If I may, sir,” CPO McKee said, “it’s true. Every single one of us are fed up with what the Provisional Parliament has done to the Commonwealth. We have no interest in serving the Coalition.”
Cole nodded. “Some would say resignation would be the proper course in such a situation, instead of effectively stealing billions of Commonwealth hardware and—for lack of a better term—defecting to me.”
“The Coalition rewards those who resign with imprisonment at best,” Commander Brown said, “and execution at worst. I’m not sure what the inciting event was, but the Coalition has turned into a nightmare of tyranny unlike anything since Humanity expanded from Old Earth.”
The conversation faded as the stewards returned to deliver their drinks.
Cole took a healthy swallow of his iced tea and said, “So, before this goes any further, I want to be very clear about something. All of my people have passed an interview and vetting process, and I use Kiksaliks to verify honesty. Everyone you see at this table has done so. The process grew out of my desire to ensure no one came aboard Haven in the early days who might pose a threat to Sasha or Talia Thyrray. Since then, I have continued the practice, because it removes any question of why someone is here. Every person aboard your ships must pass this vetting to earn a place with us, and anyone who objects to this is welcome to hop a freighter out of the system. Do you wish to proceed?”
Trask looked to each of his people, and each person nodded. After polling each of his people, Trask returned his attention to Cole, saying, “Yes, we do.”
“Very well. Sorting all this out will require several days, I’m sure. I wanted to settle that matter before the food arrived, because I didn’t want anyone to be anxious about whether I’d say no while we ate. I don’t want to give anyone indigestion.”
Chapter Eight
Over the next two weeks, the personnel aboard Babylon Station worked their way through both the crews of the Commonwealth warships and the freighters’ passengers. After Admiral Trask told Cole the story of how he and his people ended up with the first freighter, Jezebel’s Hope, Cole invited Captain Narvou aboard Haven.
Cole looked up as the hatch irised open and smiled when Sasha led Captain Narvou into the bridge briefing room. Even though Cole had never met her before, he couldn’t help but feel she looked a little shell-shocked, and he suspected the transit shafts were to blame.
“Captain Narvou,” Cole said as he stood and extended his hand, “thank you for coming aboard. Would you like refreshments or a meal?”
“No, thank you, sir,” Narvou replied. “I had just finished eating when your invitation arrived. I do appreciate the offer, though.”
Cole returned to the seat at the corner of the table (just to the left of his normal place) as Captain Narvou chose the next seat. Sasha walked around the table to sit directly across from the freighter captain.
“So, Admiral Trask told me how he met you,” Cole said.
Narvou smiled. “Remind me to send the bridge and sensor logs of that meeting to you, sir. I think you’ll enjoy it.”
Cole blinked. “May I ask why?”
“At one point during the incident, my sensor tech said, ‘Holy shit! He’s pulling a Haven!’”
Cole’s expression shifted to neutral as he wracked his brain for what might be considered ‘pulling a Haven,’ and when a thought came to mind, the grin erupted once again. “Put his ship between yours and weapons’ fire, did he?”
Narvou nodded. “The radiation from his dreadnought was so strong, it was all we could see on our scopes until he backed off. Well, it might not have been if our sensor suite was better.”
“I understand that. Those large warships radiate like a star when they’re at battle-stations,” Cole replied.
“Forgive me, sir, but I doubt you invited me aboard to discuss how I came to meet Admiral Trask.”
Cole shook his head. “Not as such, no. Captain, you have something of a reputation for being a refugee runner, and I just wanted to be sure you’re aware your ship now has a bounty on it throughout Coalition space for your involvement in the destruction of their task force.”
“The bounty surprises me a bit,” Narvou admitted, “but I knew I couldn’t go back to the former Commonwealth after Trask’s ships demolished the destroyer and frigate.”
“Well, if it’s any consolation,” Cole countered, “the bounty on Trask is absolutely obscene. It’s almost as high as Sasha’s bounty. So, what do you plan to do now?”
Narvou took a breath and released it as a heavy sigh. “I don’t really know, sir. Helping refugees reach safety is really all I want to do, and I can’t do that now. I’m not even sure I should fly the Hope out of here; with that bounty, I may not be safe anywhere.”
“You have options, Captain,” Cole said. “I’ll find a place for you if you’d like to work for me.”
Narvou nodded. “Thank you, sir. May I think about it?”
“Naturally,” Cole replied. “The last thing I want is for you to feel like I’m twisting your arm into a decision. I’m not hurting for personnel, not even close, but I’ll find a place for someone who’s done as much as you have.”
“What about
my people?” Narvou asked.
“I’ll find a place for them, too,” Cole said.
Narvou nodded again. “Okay. I’ll take it to them and see what everyone says. They’re enjoying the hospitality of Babylon Station right now, except for a brow watch. We were on that ship by ourselves for a long time.”
“Yeah…it’s always nice to see bulkheads that aren’t your own,” Cole replied. “I even splurge every now and then and visit an actual planet.”
Cole grinned when Narvou broke out in giggles.
“Thank you for coming, Captain,” Cole said after giggles ended. “Would you like a tour of the ship?”
“Oh, no, sir, but I appreciate the offer. A second trip in those transit shafts will be quite enough, thank you.”
Cole looked to Sasha. “Why don’t you return her to the flight deck via the cargo lifts? That might be better.”
Sasha nodded. “I probably should’ve brought her here that way as well, but I’m so used to them now, I never considered it.”
Cole stood, prompting the ladies to do likewise, and extended his hand once more as he said, “Captain, don’t forget about my offer. Think it over, and discuss it with your people. Even if it’s not right away, you have a place with me should you ever decide to accept it.”
Narvou gave Cole a respectful handshake. “Thank you, sir. It was great meeting you.”
Sasha escorted Captain Narvou out. Cole watched them go and took a half-step toward the hatch when it irised back open to admit Garrett. He smiled at seeing Cole.
“Ah, there you are,” Garrett said. “I’ve been looking for you.”
Cole grinned. “Dare I ask why?”
“You’re not going to believe the results from vetting Trask’s people,” Garrett said as he moved to a chair at the conference table and sat.
Cole returned to a chair and sat as well, leaning back against it. “Okay, lay it on me.”
“Every ship had at least one covert agent aboard. One frigate had thirty, and every single one of them thought they were the only one aboard.”
Cole blinked. “Seriously? None of them knew about any of the others?”
Garrett shook his head. “Not according to the Kiksaliks. It was almost funny, really. We’re up to around one-hundred-fifty covert agents, but we still have two or three ships’ complements to get through. I imagine the final count will be a bit higher. We should finish by the end of the week—early next week at the latest—and we’ll hire one of the freighters that visits Babylon Station to ship them out. Have you alerted Sev to all the work you have for him?”
“Yeah,” Cole said. “He’s looking forward to using their dreadnought to provide raw materials for our first new dreadnought. If that’s the case, it looks like our first dreadnought will end up being named Indomitable. I’m not sure that’s the name I would’ve chosen, but ehh…whatever works.”
“After we vet them, we debrief them,” Garrett continued, “and Cole, it’s worse than we thought in the former Commonwealth. Way worse. A part of me wants to pull all of my people out of there, just to keep them safe. I won’t, because we need the intel, but I’m definitely increasing their hazard pay. A spacer from one of the frigates watched Station Security execute a child for stealing food, Cole…shot the poor kid dead right in front of the market stand.”
Cole took a deep breath and released it as a slow sigh. “Something’s going to have to be done.”
“Maybe so, but we’re the only ones who could do it,” Garrett replied. “With the inclusion of the Eridani Corporation and the Sirius Imperium, the Coalition now fields the largest fleet in known space. They even beat out the Solars, Cole. They may not be the most advanced, but after a certain point, quantity is a quality all its own.”
Cole sighed again. “Why can’t these idiots just stop?”
“Cole, eventually, the brutality and abuse of power becomes part of the culture. It becomes ‘just the way things are.’ People will try to escape it, but very, very few will try to fight it. Speaking of that, you should also know those five freighters held a bit of a surprise for us, too.”
Cole closed his eyes and fought back a groan. “I’m almost afraid to ask.”
“Five emissaries,” Garrett said, “one aboard each ship and from five different systems: Oriolis, Spark, Eta Anubis, Epsilon Anubis, and Iota Anubis. They represent resistance movements from each of their systems, and they all want to talk to you. Oh, and you should also know the rep from Epsilon Anubis is a double agent.”
Cole blinked. “What?”
Garrett nodded. “That’s what the Kiksalik told me, anyway. I haven’t singled her out yet, but I thought you should know going into any conversation that she’s really working for the Provisional Parliament. Her orders are to obtain as accurate a picture of resistance forces and locations as possible before reporting back to a local handler…whereupon I imagine whoever she names will disappear in the dead of night. Considering how blatantly these people appear to operate, they may not even wait for night. The only upside to the whole situation is that she doesn’t have any hidden suicide devices; apparently, the resistance screens for that sort of thing, since the Provisional Parliament has used it in the past.”
“Every stormfront needs a silver lining,” Cole said. “So, how do we handle it?”
Garrett shrugged. “The way I see it, we have four options: try to turn her, Mushroom Protocol, expose and arrest her, or just kill her. The thing is, though, I’m not confident she can be turned. The way the Kiksalik described her mind to me, I think she’s a true believer. Oh…and I wouldn’t turn her over to the resistance people, either. Some of those folks can be a bit brutal themselves, no matter what high ideals they claim. She’d probably have to suffer through some mistreatment before she died, and there’s no guarantee her death would be all that quick.”
Cole grimaced. “I’ve never liked the thought of torture. It doesn’t achieve anything, and it’s utterly barbaric.”
“You’re preaching to the choir, Cole,” Garrett agreed.
“Damn,” Cole said, sighing once more. “What a mess.” Cole sat in silence as he considered the situation. An idea emerged, and the more he thought about it, the more he liked it. “What the heck. Garrett, please bring her here with Red. I’m going to talk with her. Tell Red before you get her that I want him standing right behind her chair…just in case she turns violent.”
Garrett frowned. “Are you sure about this?”
Cole shrugged. “What’s the worst that can happen?”
Now, Garrett sighed, shaking his head as he left the briefing room.
Garrett only required about forty minutes to return with the spy, and Cole didn’t bother to stand as a host and greet her when Garrett delivered her. He had taken the time, though, to remove most of the chairs from around the conference table, leaving three. Cole sat in one. Another faced him from about eight feet away, and the third was on the far side of the table.
“Take a seat,” Cole said, pointing to the chair facing him, while Garrett walked around the table to sit in the remaining chair.
“Is this how you treat all your guests?” the woman asked.
“No, just the spies,” Cole replied and nodded toward the chair. “Sit.”
She didn’t move, so Red took steps. Placing his massive left hand on her shoulder, he marched her to the chair and plunked her into it.
“What is this?” she asked, her voice almost a growl. “I’m no spy.”
“Let’s not waste time with pointless denials,” Cole said, snapping his fingers.
Garrett activated the room’s holo display, showing a picture of the woman and various information. He said, “In contrast to the name you gave your interviewer, you are—in truth—Greta Castillian. You were born on Caledonia and were recruited into the Commonwealth Intelligence Service right out of college. I will admit we don’t have your personnel file, but that’s only because we haven’t visited Aurelius lately. The last time we were there, we weren’t exactly
looking for Aurelian deep cover operatives.”
“So, Greta,” Cole continued, “the jig—as they say—is up. Your mission is over, and how this conversation goes will determine what happens to you. If you continue to assert your cover story, I suppose I’ll have no other option than to turn you over to the other emissaries with everything we know about you and leave them to decide your fate.”
Greta moved. She didn’t telegraph her intent. Her facial expression never changed. But she didn’t consider the Igthon behind her. Greta wasn’t even halfway out of her seat before Red’s hand clamped onto her shoulder, his thumb and forefinger encircling her throat. She grimaced as Red’s claws dug into her flesh as he pushed her back into the chair.
“That wasn’t smart,” Cole said, hiding a grin.
“I suppose you’re going to torture me now,” Greta hissed. “You’re no better than those traitors you support.”
Cole shook his head. “I don’t torture people, Greta. You realize what will happen to the innocent people whose trust you’ve gained, once you file your report? You know what will happen, right?”
“Those traitors deserve their fate,” Greta said, her expression shifting into a snarl. “How dare they turn their backs on the Provisional Parliament!”
“And what of the children? Do they deserve to die beside their parents?”
“Nits make lice, Coleson. If Lindrick had been more on the ball, you wouldn’t be interfering now.”
“I see,” Cole replied and looked to Garrett. “Your thoughts?”
“I’ve been reviewing the interviewers’ report in my mind, and I’m honestly having difficulty finding any redeeming qualities. What kind of response are you thinking?”
Cole sighed. “I’m trying to talk myself out of spacing her.”
Garrett leaned back against his seat. “You have reams and reams of legal precedent on your side for doing so and, quite frankly, considerable ethical justification. I suppose we could imprison her or set her to hard labor, but we’d still have to feed her. I’m not sure she’s worth the resources of keeping her alive. We already have the identities of her contacts in Epsilon Anubis; there’s not much more she can tell us.”
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