“Quite a ship,” Jeph said as she turned and he dropped into position beside her.
“It’s a bit of a beast,” she said, smiling. “It does keep me busy.” Jeffers was disarmingly genuine, and he glanced at Seva to see if she was reading her the same way. His pilot nodded.
“I’m sure,” he said. As they stepped into a lift carriage and it began to move, Jeph felt a familiar disorientation as down established itself in the direction they were traveling. “Gravity? You’re spinning up?”
“I should have warned you, sorry.” She looked concerned. “You are wearing an exosuit?”
He nodded, rapping the shell of his suit under his coveralls. “Never leave home without it.” Jeffers glanced at Seva who was wearing one too even though she didn’t need it. She obviously understood the significance of an exosuit on a mesomorph physique. Especially one the size of the woman who stood beside him.
When the lift slowed to a stop they were under about a half-standard-g. It was fortunate that the neuroblock cocktail Anju had given him was working, or the pressure support of his suit would have been crippling, even at this gravity level. He knew it would take him a while to acclimate to the drugs, and that would put him at a disadvantage until he adjusted.
“Before you go in there captain,” Jeffers said, stopping outside the door and waving their security escorts away. “I can see in how you tooled your pilot you came here expecting problems. You need to understand that Chancellor Roja is a straight shooter, and she knows a lot more about what might be going on than you think. If you’re square, she’ll be the same.”
“I appreciate the advice, but I’m not so much expecting trouble as making sure we’ve covered all the contingencies.” He leaned his back against the wall and crossed his arms in front of his chest. He liked Jeffers despite knowing she would come down on the wrong side of things if this turned twisty. “I also know the reality is a lot more of a problem than anything any of us might be bringing to the table.”
She studied his face for several seconds before she nodded. “Fair enough,” she said with a trace of a smile. She palmed the latch panel and the door beside him opened.
Chancellor Roja and Admiral Nakamiru stood as he stepped in. “I understand that before I even got out here to the L-4 Cluster, we’d gotten off on the wrong foot Captain Cochrane,” Katryna Roja said, stepping around the table and offering her hand. “Let’s start again shall we?”
“It wasn’t the best beginning,” he said, chuckling and taking her hand. “But the situation’s changed substantially and I’m sure it will change even more in the future.”
She nodded, gesturing to two place settings along the side of the table. From the dishes and silverware, he could tell thirdmeal was about to be much fancier than either he or Seva had eaten in years, if not ever. His pilot stepped around and stood behind her chair, waiting as the ranking officers all sat before she took her place. Obviously, she’d done this before and Jeph sighed as she dropped into the proper etiquette like a natural.
The meal was served in several courses, not by an autobot, but by an actual human server. They made inconsequential conversation about the details of the Waltz mission and the routines of living in a small ship with a small crew. After the server removed the last course and admiral Nakamiru poured a Glenlivet for both captains and the Chancellor, Roja broached the subject that Jeph had expected all along.
“Now Captain Cochrane,” she said, her voice maintaining the cordial tone but her eyes hardening to an intensity that almost made him sweat. “Please tell me what you have discovered down there. It’s obvious already that it must be something extraordinary for you to insist on a face-to-face debriefing.”
“Respectfully ma’am, it wasn’t an in-person meeting I asked for, it was to have you come down and see with your own eyes what’s down there,” he said. “I don’t believe any report would be adequate to explain it.”
She glanced at the admiral and chewed on her lower lip before she shook her head. “Does Project Odysseus mean anything to you?” she asked hoping to throw a boulder onto the table.
Jeph blinked once or twice. “I know of it,” he said, not rising to her challenge.
“Does your discovery have anything to do with it?” the admiral asked.
“I’d prefer you come down and—”
“That’s not going to happen, Captain,” Nakamiru said. “We need your full report before we decide how to proceed.”
“Unfortunately, that’s not going to happen either, Admiral,” he said, watching Seva shift her weight out of the corner of his eye.
Chancellor Roja sat up straight in her seat and leaned forward, crossing her arms on the table in front of her. “I am making this a direct order. You will tell me what you know. If you do not, I will relieve you of command and get one of your crew to make the report in your place. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”
“I was afraid it would come down to this,” he said, shaking his head and reaching into his pocket to pull out his thinpad. Jeffers tensed and Seva shot her a glare. He laid the pad down on the table and held his hands away from it. “I want to send you a file, but I can tell you what it says if you’d rather. Once I do, you’ll realize that you do not have the authority to remove me from command.”
“Do not have the authority?” Captain Jeffers said, snorting indignantly on behalf of the chancellor.
Jeph never broke eye contact with Roja as he added, “I’m sorry Captain, but I am within my legal rights to decline this order.”
“What is it?” the chancellor said, shaking her head to indicate that Jeffers should relax for the moment.
He tapped the icon on his thinpad and read aloud: “Pursuant to petition by the residents of the ice asteroid officially designated as L-4 Prime and henceforth to be known as Gateway Colony, I hereby enter into the archival records, our collective title to this object and all hardware contained within and on the surface. We issue this claim under the provisions of the Shipwreck Crew act of 2114. As such the residents of Gateway Colony have elected Jephora Stephen Cochrane as their duly appointed governor and statutory agent in all matters civil or legal as of 2243.188.”
Jeffers snorted and slapped her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. Admiral Nakamiru shot her a side eye that would have killed anyone of a lesser rank.
“The file I want to send you includes the legal documentation to support our position if you want to include it in your official log,” Jeph said, looking at the captain and adding a wink for good measure.
“Do you expect me to accept these declarations are valid?” Roja asked.
“According to the Shipwreck Crew Act of 2114 we are within our rights to make this claim and declaration,” he said.
She shook her head. “I have a passing familiarity with the Shipwreck Act. There’s no way you qualify. The act only applies to ships that have been stranded for more than a year.”
“I’m sure you’ve noticed the wreckage of the Hector?” he asked.
“That is not your ship. As I see it, you’ve only been on the surface for a few weeks at most.” She looked at the admiral. “We’re here to rescue you so—”
“Yes, but the Hector has been here for eleven years without rescue,” he said. “And as the sole survivor, Dr. Ian Whitewind does have a legal right to file the claim.”
“Someone survived down there for eleven years?” Jeffers said.
“He did. He was the chief scientist on an earlier mission to investigate the disappearance of several science probes. When we arrived and attempted to rescue him, the Jakob Waltz was lost. Under the same laws, our effort on his behalf allows him to compensate our loss through the transfer of an equity holding position in his claim.”
Jeph pressed his head back against the headrest of his chair and leveled his gaze on the chancellor. The tension of the situation was pushing his adrenaline level up and burning through his medication fast. His pain level was climbing, but he knew this was the point from which
there was no retreat.
“Our position here is based on the idea that if you are claiming command authority as granted to you under Union Law, then our Shipwreck Declaration must stand under those same laws. If however you are claiming that you are not operating under Union Law because the laws of the Union are not currently enforceable due to the situation down-system, then you have no legal authority to order me to do anything.”
She sat motionless for over a minute and Jeph let her chew on his words. Finally, she stood and glancing at Nakamiru and Jeffers jerked her head toward the door. “Wait here,” she said. “I want a moment, if you don’t mind.” She spun and disappeared through the door without further comment.
“I’m thinking she’s going to put us in the tank,” Seva whispered. “Paperwork makes a shit-shield.”
Jeph nodded pulling his comlink out and clipping it over his ear. He let out a long slow sigh before he toggled it on. “Cori, you awake?”
“Yah, boss,” he said.
“Turn on the lights. We’re going to need to find our way home.”
Command Deck: FleetCom Lunar L-2 Shipyard: Lunar Lagrange Two:
“Admiral Quintana to the Command Deck. Code White,” the OpsCom officer bellowed over the shipyard’s internal com. “All hands report to duty stations. Code White. This is not a drill. All hands. Code White. Interceptor crews report to hangar decks. I repeat, this is not a drill. Code White.”
The admiral was sitting in the Officer’s Mess finishing his thirdmeal and contemplating having a white ale when the announcement slammed an abrupt lid on the weeklong day he’d just had. He shook his head, but powered by pure adrenaline and reflex, was already leaping out of his seat before he thought to question the reality.
Code white? An attack?
“Operations, what the frag is going on?” he barked as he launched himself through the door and toward the liftshaft.
“We’ve got a hot approach on an unscheduled Goliath class RMC. Inbound at twelve minutes under full power.” His OpsCom officer sounded steady as a rock, but that was how Gabriel Ducat always sounded.
“A suicide run?”
“Maybe,” the officer said. “The ship dropped com and started his run when we challenged him. It could be a hack on his AI, but he’s moving fast enough now that he won’t be able to stop. A Goliath is a wallowing slug.”
Quintana grabbed the rail and flung himself up the shaft without waiting for a tow ring. “Can we tell where he’s aiming to hit?”
“Upper pylon, near assembly dock three and four, but he could still deflect past,” he said.
“Where are our multicruisers?” the admiral asked.
“Covering the transit corridor,” he said. “The Defiant is downhill on the Tsiolkovskiy end at eighteen kiloklick and the Kitty Hawk is looping lunar earthside, and nine minutes from visual acquisition.”
“So we’ve got no cover for an hour,” he said, flipping off the com as he bounced out on the Command Deck and locked his feet to the plating with a snap.
“Admiral has the deck,” Ducat said over the command channel. “Yes sir, we’re on our own. If the Goliath keeps burning and doesn’t peel off, he’s under eight minutes to impact and we’ll only have about forty-five seconds to carve on it with the guns before it plows in.”
“Not enough,” Quintana said. “All that will do is scatter the hit.”
“Admiral, we’ve got Tsiolkovskiy Approach reporting the Goliath has two ships in its shadow,” the communications officer reported.
“Put them through,” he said. “TFC Approach, this is Quintana. Did you say there are two ships in the shadow of this Goliath RMC?”
“Affirm Admiral,” the flight controller said. “It looks like you’ve got two C-class ships riding tight in the wake of your hot approach. Didn’t know if you could pick them out of the shadow, but they’re a hard ping for sure and running dark.”
“Copy TFC Approach,” the admiral said, “Stay live and advise if those shadows break wind. We’re scattering interceptors to get an eyeball on them, but we’re another couple minutes before they’re outbound.” He flipped off the com. “C-class keels makes them Sagan or Hawking Science vessels. Big guns with lots of juice.”
He watched as his ExO, Hamid Roudini, bounced to a stop on the command riser beside him. “And they can brake like a bitch too,” Roudini said. “Depending on how big the commander’s eggs are, they’ll have another three or four minutes before they have to flip and make a curve to attack.”
“Interceptor Squadron One is away,” the flight controller cut in on the com.
“Tell them do not engage until we know what the wakeriders are doing. Those things will have a hell of a punch and I’m thinking they’re not after the small targets …” Quintana stopped himself in mid-thought and grabbed the ExO by the arm. “Get a Special Ops team to Tana Drake’s quarters now! Send someone to get Edison Wentworth too and get them all into suits. This is about to get real.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
VIP Quarters: FleetCom Lunar L-2 Shipyard: Lunar Lagrange Two:
Edison Wentworth had just left his quarters when the code white announcement came over the internal com system. He’d intended to find his way to the gym for a spin in a centrifuge and a run on a treadwheel, but even though he didn’t know what a code white meant, it didn’t take knowing, to figure out he’d likely not be going to work out this evening.
He’d decided to check on Tana and Saf when his com chirped. “Edison where are you?” Tana said. Her voice carried enough urgency to stop him in his tracks.
“On my way to your room,” he said.
“Don’t bother. We’re on the move,” Saf said, cutting in on the chancellor’s com. “Where exactly are you?”
Looking around to find a bulkhead designation plate, he read his exact position off to them. “Deck seventeen, section six the near lift rail.”
“We’re two decks above you. Meet us at the rail landing,” Tana said, cutting off the com.
Springing to the lift and grabbing a tow ring, he twisted the control to the full speed position. He was sturdy for an old man, but it jerked him upward and would have torn his shoulder from the socket if he hadn’t remembered that the lifts on the station moved faster than normal. He almost overshot deck fifteen, barely managing to get his feet back on the preferred floor orientation when Tana rocketed around the corner with Saf trailing a split second behind.
“What’s going on,” he asked as they both grabbed bulkheads and swung to a stop without setting their feet down. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway since neither of them wore maglocks.
“The station is under attack,” Saf said. She turned, watching behind her like she expected to see soldiers storming up the corridor in pursuit.
“Code white is a call to arms,” Tana added.
“L-2 is a big station, aren’t we better off sheltering in place? The quarters all have independent emergency supply systems,” he said.
Saf shook her head. “Chances are they’re coming for you two,” she said. “There’s no other reason to step up the fight this early in the game.”
“You really think so?” he asked.
Tana nodded. “I think it’s time for us to move on. For me anyway, but you might be almost as dangerous to Tomlinson at this point. Kylla said they know we were traveling together at Freeport.”
“Nojo?” he asked. “You’ve talked to her since this all went sidewise?”
Saf nodded. “Apparently, they focused a fair amount of time trying to get her to tie us together. They showed her an image of your face from an optic when we blew our last hangout.”
A deep vibrating rumble shook the deck plating to punctuate her point. “That will be the second group of interceptors,” Tana said.
“You can tell that?”
She tapped a finger against her earlobe to remind him of her augmentation. “I heard the rack doors opening, so we need to move. We don’t have much time left.”
Armstrong: S
tation-keeping Above L-4 Prime:
Jeph had just pumped a dose of his neuroblock into a vein on the back of his hand when the door opened. The two guards that had escorted them from the hangar deck appeared first, followed by Captain Jeffers and the admiral. The chancellor brought up the rear. None of them returned to their seats and from the chancellor’s expression, she was ready to make this a lot uglier than Jeph had hoped to see. Walking up to the opposite side of the table, she stopped and squared her shoulders.
“We seem to be at an impasse here,” she said. “I’d like to resolve this without making things more difficult, but you need to understand that the only way for that to happen is to give me what I want. Then we’ll consider any future legal claim you think you have over L-4 Prime.”
“Ma’am, unfortunately it is you that doesn’t understand what’s going on here,” Jeph said, looking up at her. “I need you to come down and see for yourself what we’re dealing with. I don’t think there’s any way to resolve this without that happening.”
“Captain Cochrane,” Admiral Nakamiru said. “I am concerned that you don’t realize you just received the only offer you will get to resolve this that doesn’t involve your detention.”
“You do not have the jurisdiction to do that,” Jeph said, keeping his eyes on Roja and placing his hands flat on the table in front of him. “I didn’t want to put it so bluntly, but you’re technically not a representative of the Union government any longer.”
“No, but the admiral and I are both still warranted FleetCom officers and I can most assuredly lock your insubordinate ass up until we can get you in front of a tribunal,” Jeffers said. “If you can convince them not to vent you, then you can present your claim. But that will have to wait until we can transport you to a civil court down-system. In the meantime you can cool in the brig.”
She turned to the guard beside her and nodded. Seva was on her feet and between him and Jeph almost before anyone realized she was moving. The second guard pulled a stunner and stepped forward one step before he thought twice. She was double his mass, even without her exosuit.
Fulcrum of Odysseus Page 19