“Haskell,” Cole began, “what can you tell me about those ships?”
The senior sensor tech grinned. “What do you want to know, Cap? The flag officer’s breakfast menu? Access to their version of our TacNet?”
Cole almost sighed. “Let me guess. They haven’t changed their encryption keys yet?”
“Oh, no,” Haskell countered. “They did that within minutes of seizing Mr. Vance and Colonel Hanson. From what I’ve seen, though, Srexx has been using the courier vessel as a remote proxy; he’s been browsing their planetary datanet since before we left Beta Magellan. The notations I’m seeing indicate Srexx updated our database with their new encryption key about ten minutes after they rolled it out.”
Cole blinked. “Ten minutes?”
“I apologize, Cole,” the overhead speakers broadcast Srexx’s voice. “So much of my focus was on monitoring the transport and incarceration of Mr. Vance and Colonel Hanson that I failed to notice the SDF had instituted a new encryption algorithm. Once I became aware of the new encryption, however, I cracked it within ninety seconds.”
Almost every person on the bridge shared Cole’s grin.
“That’s more like it,” Cole remarked. “I was afraid you might be slipping in your old age.”
“But Cole…I do not age.”
Several people around the bridge chuckled as Cole grinned.
“Ah,” Srexx continued. “This was another joke, was it not?”
“Yeah, buddy. I was messing with you.”
“And this is what friends do?”
Cole nodded. “Yes. Good friends sometimes joke around and prank each other.”
“Very well. As I consider you a good friend, I shall research this behavior and attempt to participate. Thank you for alerting me to it.”
A small portion of Cole’s mind wanted to whimper, Oh, shit, but the more he considered it, he wanted to see what kind of pranks Srexx would devise. He smiled, saying, “I look forward to it, Srexx.”
“Cap,” Haskell began, “the SDF ships are charging…ah…belay that. The SDF ships’ reactors have just shut down. They’re all on emergency power.”
Cole swiveled to look at the sensors station, asking, “Did we do that?”
“No, Cole,” Srexx replied. “We did not. According to the logs aboard the SDF ships, each chief engineer implemented a manual override when the captains ordered the ships to battle-stations.”
Cole swiveled back to the tactical plot in time to see a veritable cloud of tiny dots erupt around the SDF fleet.
“Cap, we’re being hailed,” Jenkins announced.
“Put it on,” Cole replied.
“Hello. This is Commander Garth Carruthers, and I am the former senior-most chief engineer for the SDF fleet. My associates and I have locked out the reactor controls aboard the SDF ships and tendered our resignations to Tristan’s Gate, as we cannot support the conduct that led to the present situation. I have been asked to request asylum in Beta Magellan for those of us in life pods, as well as our families on Tristan’s World.”
“Jennings, open a channel, please, and be sure we transmit in the clear,” Cole said.
Not even five seconds later, the overhead speakers chirped, and Jennings replied, “You’re on, Cap.”
“Commander Carruthers,” Cole began, “this is Bartholomew James Coleson. First off, I want to thank you for saving your fellow spacers’ lives; if the SDF had fired on us, we would have responded. I grant your request for asylum, pending the standard immigration evaluation all refugees must pass for full citizenship in Beta Magellan; if any of your people prefer not to pursue full citizenship, we will assist them in relocating to a place of their choice at no cost to them. I ask that you and your associates put as much space between your life pods and the SDF ships as possible; we will slow so that you can board one of the freighters. Coleson out.” Once the overhead speakers chirped to indicate a closed channel, Cole swiveled to face Jennings. “My compliments to the senior captain among the freighters, Jennings; ask him to start a head-count so we don’t overbook our carrying capacity. Oh…and ask him to be sure we do not leave with any of the life pods. They’re property of Tristan’s Gate, and no matter what else we may be, we are not thieves.”
“Aye, Cap,” Jennings replied.
Cole swiveled back to face forward. “Helm, alter our maneuvering plan, please; we need to slow to intercept the life pods.”
Slowing to take the life pods’ occupants aboard freighters added forty minutes to their transit. As soon as the last life pod was dropped back into space deactivated and ready for recovery, the Beta Magellan ships ramped their engines back up to one-quarter-light and resumed their approach.
Cole had just stepped out of the head shared by his office and his day-cabin when the overhead speakers in the day-cabin broadcast Srexx’s voice.
“Cole?”
“Yeah, buddy?”
“I have some information that might cause Sasha and her family emotional distress.”
Cole felt like sighing. “What is it?”
“I have considerable correspondence between Nathyn Thyrray and upper-tier individuals within the Coalition and Coalition agents within Tristan’s Gate in which Nathyn has successfully negotiated a deal to become the system governor in exchange for delivering Tristan’s Gate to the Coalition. It appears he worked behind the scenes on several of the recently elected officials’ campaigns, and he seemed to be rather influential in getting them elected. In a number of circumstances, he used his familial relationship with the Vance clan to secure groups’ or influential people’s support for his chosen candidates.”
“Well…damn,” Cole replied, this time heaving a heavy sigh. “That’s not going to go over well.”
“My probabilities support your conclusion, Cole,” Srexx agreed. “I also have confirmation that Nathyn used his chosen candidates to advance an agenda of increased independence and self-sufficiency for Tristan’s Gate, and it was this agenda that garnered them the most votes. My calculations indicate a very high chance that the people of Tristan’s Gate will feel betrayed—possibly even defrauded—if you choose to publicize this information.”
“Talk about a mess,” Cole said. “What’s the quantum comms lag to Beta Magellan right now?”
“At our current position, fifteen seconds, Cole…and I calculate you would want to know that the crews of the SDF ships are working to remove the engineers’ lock-outs on the reactor controls. It is possible they will be combat-capable within an hour.”
“Okay. Can you do anything to hamper their efforts?”
“Yes, Cole.”
“Please, do so. It looks like we’re going to be here a little longer than I thought.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Battle-Carrier Haven
Orbiting Tristan’s World
Tristan’s Gate
17 September 3003, 17:55 GST
Cole sat at the desk in his office, accessing the comms function of his workstation. He selected Painter’s deputy from his contact list and keyed the command to initiate a call. Twenty seconds later (plus or minus), a hologram appeared above Cole’s desk.
“Yes, sir?” Painter’s deputy asked.
“Select our best pilot and one of the couriers,” Cole said. “Find Paol and his wife, and inform them that I’d like them to arrive in Tristan’s Gate tomorrow. Assure them that their family is safe and that no one’s in danger of dying; I need their input on a situation, and it would be better for them to be here than try to conference them in…even with a fifteen-second delay.”
Soon, the deputy nodded. “Yes, sir. Do you need anything else?”
Cole turned the situation over in his mind for several moments before he answered. “No, thank you. But tell the pilot I am ordering him to max the hyperdrive for the trip here.”
“Roger that, sir.”
“Thank you,” Cole replied. “Cole out.”
The hologram blinked out of existence, and Cole leaned back against his s
eat. The situation was even trickier than he first thought at Srexx’s revelation. The SDF were holding Carl and Lindsay Vance and Jed Hanson under guard in the Vance residence, down on Tristan’s World. Technically, it was a violation of their civil rights, as the government had not issued an arrest warrant or a detention order for them; the government hadn’t even issued any paperwork for the arrest of Sev and Harlon. At first, Cole thought it was an oversight, simply a matter of Nathyn’s pet politicians moving faster than the formalities. When he had voiced this to Srexx, the AI countered with a different possibility: as Sev and Harlon were (a) individuals who enjoyed dual citizenship in both Beta Magellan and Tristan’s Gate and (b) carried letters of credence as full ambassadors from a foreign star system, any arrest warrants or detention orders involving Sev and Harlon would have to pass through the system’s High Court, where the justices were appointed to life terms and with whom Nathyn had no influence.
That piece of information put the whole situation in a completely different light, and Cole wondered how many of the SDF personnel actually realized just how legally exposed they were right now. President Harker’s order to seize Cole’s ambassadors and the courier vessel were illegal, and to make Cole’s job even easier, the idiot had put the orders in writing. If Cole were being fully honest, he had to admit a certain pleasure in seeing that General ‘Tree-Up-Her-Ass’ Trumball had counter-signed the orders; a small, petty part of his personality that he tried to keep away from the public would very much enjoy watching the consequences of those orders come home to roost.
Within minutes of Haven and her associated ships entering orbit, a veritable flood of applications for refugee berths bombarded Haven’s comms node. Cole made sure Mattias Stone’s family had a place along with the families of the former SDF engineers. After that, he referred all such messages to the senior freighter captain to be filled on a first-come-first-served basis. Every berth aboard all nine freighters was claimed within two hours.
Then, the messages from people who owned their own ships started arriving. It didn’t take long at all for Srexx to ferret out the ads for berths aboard those ships and the shocking prices the owners were charging, and Cole informed the owners that no price gougers or opportunists would be welcome in Beta Magellan. If they wanted to relocate, fine. If they wanted to offer their ships’ extra space to other people wanting to relocate, fine. But Cole drew the line at the owners charging people or families their life savings for transport to Beta Magellan. Cole was all for people making a profit…as long as it was responsible, clean and green profit.
When one of the ship owners called out Cole on the apparent hypocrisy of his statement, considering the impressive sum residing in Cole’s accounts, Cole merely smiled and offered to show the man the records proving he’d paid for every piece of infrastructure in Beta Magellan and its associated systems—every house, every street, every orbital station, every hospital, library, or school…every single improvement—all by himself. Cole also pointed out that the citizens of Beta Magellan enjoyed the lowest tax rates in known space. Oddly enough, the ship owner declined Cole’s offer.
Cole sighed and pushed himself to his feet. He couldn’t put it off any longer. It was time to call the system leadership and ask about his people. It was a foregone conclusion in Cole’s mind that he had come for his associates, but he didn’t relish the idea of conflict with Tristan’s Gate. It wasn’t that long ago that he defended these people.
Cole entered the bridge, and the duty officer almost leapt out of the command chair, announcing, “Captain on deck!”
“I have the conn,” Cole said as he approached the command chair and settled into it.
“Sir,” the spacer at Marine Ops began, “may I ask a question?”
Cole nodded. “Sure. Ask away.”
“A bunch of us are wondering why they haven’t fired on us yet. I mean, every station and planet has defensive capabilities, right?”
Cole chuckled. “Well, you would think. Beta Magellan certainly does. But no…the Gate has no weapons beyond basic emplacements, and the planet has some ground-to-space missiles but nothing with enough punch to threaten us. Historically, the agreements between Tristan’s Gate and the Commonwealth served as a deterrent against those who might be interested in moving against the system, and the SDF has always been sufficient as a police force and able to handle the few pirates who decided to try their luck.”
“Huh…that’s weird,” the spacer replied. “Do you think it’ll stay that way after this, sir?”
Cole shrugged. “In the long run, as long as they don’t harass our people, I don’t see the happenings in Tristan’s Gate as being any of my business.”
The spacer nodded his agreement and remained silent.
Cole shifted his attention to the comms station, saying, “Comms, if you please, hail the system leadership.”
“Aye, sir,” the comms tech answered.
Moments later, the main viewscreen activated to display a young man in a suit, and the speakers chirped, indicating an active call.
“Hello. I’m Lucius Brown, Undersecretary for Foreign Affairs,” the young man onscreen said.
Cole nodded. “Greetings. I am Bartholomew James Coleson, and I’ve come for my people: Sevrin Vance and Harlon Hanson. Furthermore, Mattias Stone has requested asylum in Beta Magellan, and I have granted his request. You have one standard hour to return them to the location from which they were taken, or I’ll save you the trouble and retrieve them myself.”
“Yes,” Undersecretary Brown replied. “I quite understand, but you see, I’m not empowered to negotiate—”
“Mr. Brown,” Cole interrupted, “did anything I just said sound like part of a negotiation to you?”
“Well…no, sir, but I have no authority to grant any requests. They just told me to answer the call.”
Cole sighed. “Right then, so you’re wasting my time.”
“I…I wouldn’t say that, sir.”
“You’re not empowered to release my people, as you yourself just stated. If you’re not wasting my time, just what are you doing?”
“Talking with you?”
It was a grievous breach of etiquette, and Cole knew—knew—he shouldn’t do it. But he couldn’t help himself. He closed the call with no further discourse, effectively hanging up on the poor soul.
“Srexx, do you have a location on our people and Mattias Stone?” Cole asked.
“Of course, Cole. I have maintained near-real-time awareness of their location and status since I learned of their situation.”
“Would you please relay that information to Lieutenant Colonel Devereaux?”
“I did so while en route to the system, Cole.”
Cole smiled. “Thank you much, Srexx. Forgive me, but I need to call a marine.”
“Of course, Cole.
Swiveling toward the port recess, Cole said, “Marine Ops, my compliments to the colonel, if you please, and ask her to call when she has a moment.”
“Aye, sir,” the private first class replied.
Moments later, the overhead speakers chirped and broadcast, “Devereaux to Bridge.”
“Bridge, Cole here.”
“You asked me to call, sir?”
“I did indeed, Colonel,” Cole replied, grinning. “Are you set to retrieve our people?”
“We have two assault shuttles loaded and waiting, and the recovery teams have been briefed on the plan. We’re just waiting for the ‘go’ order, sir.”
Cole nodded, even though the colonel couldn’t see it. “Very well. Let me coordinate with the CAG—”
“Forgive the interruption, sir, but she’s here with me. I’m in Pre-Flight; we were considering flight paths.”
“Hey, Cap,” Emily said over the comms channel.
Cole chuckled. “Hey, CAG. Are you ready to launch a recovery effort?”
“Yes, sir,” Emily replied. “Two full squadrons await your order.”
“Very good. One last question, ladies; if I a
sk you to divert one assault shuttle to retrieve the Vances and Jed Hanson, will that be a problem?”
“No,” Emily answered.
“Not at all, sir,” the lieutenant colonel said.
Cole nodded, even though they couldn’t see it. “Very well. Since the system leadership seems reluctant to discuss the matter, I don’t see as we have any other choice. Go. The battlegroup will provide overwatch.”
“Aye, sir! Launching now,” Emily said. “Pre-flight out.”
The speakers chirped, indicating the closed call.
Cole heaved a sigh. “Sound battle-stations. Comms, signal the battlegroup to deploy for overwatch; we’ll coordinate via TacNet. Helm, as soon as the Air Boss signals a clear flight deck, put us in our overwatch position as well.”
Klaxons blared throughout the ship as the status lights shifted from solid amber to flashing red.
“Comms,” Cole said, “record a message for broadcast.”
Not even five seconds later, the comms tech replied, “You’re on, sir.”
“People of Tristan’s Gate,” Cole began, “I am Bartholomew James Coleson of Beta Magellan. As I hope you’ve become aware, the system leadership chose to seize two of our people whom I sent to your system as accredited ambassadors, and the former Defense Minister Mattias Stone, on the fifteenth of September. Upon my arrival, the leadership refuses to discuss the matter, which leaves only one recourse: retrieving our people ourselves. Even now, Haven is launching fighters and assault shuttles under orders to carry out this retrieval, and I send this message to assure you that we mean no harm to the citizens of Tristan’s Gate, despite the conduct of the system government. As long as our small craft and marines are not fired upon, we will not initiate hostilities. Thank you for your time and cooperation. Coleson out.”
Seconds later, the comms tech said, “Ready to transmit, sir.”
“Flood the system,” Cole replied, “every channel and frequency.”
“Aye, sir, flooding the system.”
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