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The Forgotten Empire: Banishment: Book One

Page 18

by Raymond L. Weil


  Captain Fulmar turned to the navigation officer. “Take us into the bay. You have permission to communicate with Highland Station as needed.”

  -

  On the main viewscreen, the asteroid rapidly grew larger. Hundreds of ships were in the area, ships of every type and size, some from Human worlds and others from non-Human worlds. Numerous shuttles moved back and forth between the ships and the large asteroid.

  Many small warships here could be classified as destroyers. They cruised among the various ships, keeping order.

  The station consisted of many domes on the surface of the asteroid. The asteroid itself was about 200 hundred kilometers in length and 170 wide. A series of large docking ports were located on the side of one of the domes. That was where the Themis headed.

  “They’ve dug deep inside the asteroid,” Admiral Cleemorl informed Captain Fulmar. “What you see on the surface is only about one-tenth of what’s here. The last I heard, nearly three million sentients lived on the station. Nearly every civilized race is represented, except the Confederation races.”

  “How do they keep order? It must be a nightmare.”

  Cleemorl shook his head. “They have a police force, if you want to call it that. They ensure any arguments don’t get too far out of hand. Even so, it’s still easy to be robbed or even killed if you aren’t on your guard.”

  They continued to watch as the Themis eased into the bay and was secured by docking clamps to keep the vessel in place.

  “Time to go,” said Cleemorl, standing. “This should be interesting. Lieutenant Bedell, you will be in charge while we’re gone. Allow no one onto the ship, and allow no one to leave. We’ll stay in contact with our comms.”

  Going to the arms locker, Admiral Cleemorl took out an energy pistol and strapped it to his waist. Captain Fulmar did the same.

  “Good,” said Cleemorl. “Now, let’s go see if we can find Cheryl Bannon.”

  -

  As they left the ship, Captain Fulmar was surprised to see how modern the docking facility was. They were met at the main hatch by a Human, who indicated they should report to the main docking terminal to pay their docking fees. Payment was demanded in advance, in case they had to leave in a hurry. Fulmar noticed the man wore two very large energy pistols.

  Stepping through the hatch, Fulmar noted everything still looked clean and modern. Dock crews were busy servicing ships, and floaters filled with cargo were moving to and from the docked vessels.

  “Not what you were expecting?” said Admiral Cleemorl, seeing the confused look on Fulmar’s face.

  Fulmar shook his head. “No, I was expecting everything to be run-down and falling apart.”

  Cleemorl laughed. “No, they make a lot of money with their docking facilities. They can repair most ship damage and replace older systems with new ones. Of course all that will cost, but, due to the people who come here, they find their docking services in high demand. They don’t ask questions about any suspicious damage or why a ship captain wants certain equipment or weapons added to his vessel. They also don’t tolerate any dangerous activity in the docking area.”

  They went down a well-lit corridor and passed through another hatch. They found themselves in a large dome with a three-story building directly in front of them.

  “That’s the docking terminal where we pay our fees.”

  Captain Fulmar looked nervous. “How will we do that? Neither of us is carrying 15,000 credits around with us.”

  “It’s taken care of,” replied Cleemorl.

  They reached the terminal and found a half-dozen heavily armed guards at the entrance.

  “State your business,” demanded one of them. He was a large burly man with a half-grown beard.

  “We’re here to pay our docking fees,” replied Cleemorl, his hand resting lightly on his energy pistol.

  The guard nodded. “How long will you be staying?”

  “A day or two,” replied Cleemorl.

  The guard eyed them for another few moments and then nodded. “Go on inside. The payment counter will be to your left.”

  Admiral Cleemorl nodded and passed through the door with Captain Fulmar.

  “Those looked like some rough characters,” muttered Fulmar, as they turned to their left and proceeded down a short corridor. An older woman sat behind a glass enclosure with a large sign that read Payment Window.

  “You’ll see a lot of those where we’re going.” Admiral Cleemorl stepped up to the window, where the woman waited.

  The woman slid open the window and spoke. “I assume you’re the owner of that battlecruiser that just docked?”

  Cleemorl nodded. “Yes, I’m here to pay our docking fee.”

  The woman eyed him suspiciously and then spoke again. “We don’t want any trouble while you’re here. We don’t see many warships as large as yours.”

  “We just need supplies,” replied Cleemorl. “We’re going on a long exploration trip.”

  The woman nodded. “Don’t let the Confederation find out. They don’t like anyone exploring anymore. How long will you be staying?”

  “Two days,” replied Cleemorl.

  “And how will you be paying? We take Confederation credits and most civilized currencies, as well as heavy metals and other items used for trade.”

  Cleemorl took a small pouch from his pocket and dumped the contents on the counter in front of the woman. The pouch contained a fortune in rare jewels.

  The woman’s eyes widened. “I must have these appraised. One moment please.” She reached forward and pressed a button on the comm unit on her desk. Almost instantly a man in a business suit came through one of the other doors into the woman’s office.

  “What is it?” he asked, sounding a little irritated.

  “They want to pay with these,” replied the woman, gesturing toward the jewels.

  The man looked at the jewels, and his eyes widened. He took a small device from his pocket and passed it over the jewels. “They’re genuine. I estimate their value at 2,873,000 credits.”

  “Make it 2,900,000,” replied Cleemorl in a level voice.

  The man looked surprised but then slowly nodded. “Very well, 2,900,000 credits. Would you like that in credits or a credit chip? The credit chip is accepted everywhere on the station.”

  “A credit chip,” replied Cleemorl. “Take our docking fees out of that as well. Also give me ten thousand in cash, just in case.”

  The woman nodded and, after a moment, handed him a small metal computer chip and ten thousand credits. She then handed him a security code. “You will need this code to access the chip.” She slid the jewels into one of her desk drawers and locked it.

  “Let’s go,” said Cleemorl, as he turned toward the corridor, pocketing the chip and the cash.

  “Admiral, those jewels were worth twice what you got for them.”

  “I know, but keep in mind where we’re at. As it is, we got nearly two hundred thousand more than I was expecting. That will allow us to purchase all the supplies we’ll need.”

  -

  An hour later they were deep beneath the surface of the asteroid. Captain Fulmar looked around in amazement. They seemed to be in the entertainment section of a major city, with eating places, bars, strip joints, and nearly every kind of entertainment one might be interested in. Loud music could be heard in the streets, as well as laughter coming from some of the establishments. Everywhere he looked he saw weapons. Everyone seemed to be armed. He did notice the absence of children.

  “Come with me,” said Cleemorl, indicating one of the larger bars that seemed to be full of people.

  Going inside, Fulmar saw sentients from probably a dozen different races. Most were like Humans but different in some way.

  Cleemorl found an empty table and sat down, indicating for Captain Fulmar to do the same.

  “What are we having today?” asked a scantily clad serving girl, who appeared quickly to take their order.

  “Two comet raiders,” replied Clee
morl. He knew a comet raider, while alcoholic, was a safe drink and wouldn’t get them drunk.

  “Two comet raiders coming up,” replied the server. “Anything else?”

  Cleemorl nodded. “Tell Cheryl that Dylan Cleemorl is here and would like to talk to her.”

  The girl frowned but nodded and left to get their order.

  “Why here?” asked Fulmar.

  Cleemorl gestured around. “Cheryl owns this place.”

  -

  Cleemorl leaned back in his chair, looking around. The bar was packed full with loud music and a few girls dancing on a small stage. Voices were loud, and a lot of laughter filled the room. However, every person in the bar, except the servers and the dancing girls, was heavily armed.

  “A lot of deals are made in these bars,” explained Cleemorl. “Everything you can imagine is for sale, if you can find the right dealer.”

  The serving girl returned with their drinks, setting them down in front of the two men. “Cheryl will be out shortly,” she said and left them.

  “Why hasn’t the Confederation done something about these outlaws and pirates?” Fulmar asked Cleemorl.

  Cleemorl smiled. “It’s easier to have all the riffraff in one spot than scattered on thousands of worlds. The Confederation does make punitive raids occasionally to keep the outcasts here under control.”

  The two sat, enjoying their drinks and watching the girls on the stage. After about twenty minutes had passed, a woman came to their table, eyeing Admiral Cleemorl. She was good-looking and modestly dressed.

  “Last I heard, you were an admiral,” she said, as she took a seat next to Cleemorl.

  Cleemorl sighed and nodded. “Still am. In case you haven’t heard, the Druins attacked Lydol Four and pretty well wasted it. I suspect they’re hunting for what’s left of my fleet.”

  Cheryl nodded. “I heard that one of the Human worlds had dared to defy the Confederation again. When will you learn that, every time that happens, people die? You can’t defeat the Confederation. They’re too large and powerful.”

  “Perhaps you’re right,” admitted Cleemorl.

  Cheryl leaned forward, gazing at the admiral with a strange look in her eyes. “Why are you here?”

  “What’s left of my fleet is leaving this region of space. We’re going very far away, where the Druins won’t find us. We’ll need a considerable amount of supplies.”

  Cheryl frowned and slowly shook her head. “I’ve known you long enough to know when you’re not telling the truth. You’ll seek out the old Imperials. The ones exiled when the Druins first conquered the Human Empire.”

  Admiral Cleemorl didn’t reply. He wasn’t surprised that Cheryl had figured out where he was going. She was a very intelligent woman.

  Cheryl studied Cleemorl’s face for a few moments, slowly nodding to herself. “How many credits do you have? What you seek won’t be cheap.”

  “Two million nine hundred thousand,” replied Cleemorl.

  “How many ships in your fleet?”

  “Two battlecruisers and three support vessels.”

  Cheryl shook her head. “How could you people dare to build warships, knowing what the Druins would do?”

  “People want their freedom,” replied the admiral defensively. “This would happen sooner or later, no matter what we did. We thought, or rather hoped, the Druins would negotiate with us.”

  “The Druins negotiate with no one,” replied Cheryl harshly. “We are nothing to the Confederation races except cheap labor and a source of resources.”

  “Is that why you came out here?”

  Cheryl was quiet for a long moment. “At least here I can choose how to live my life, and, for the most part, the Confederation leaves us alone. You know the other reason.”

  “Did the two of you know each other in the past?” asked Captain Fulmar, raising his eyebrow.

  Cleemorl nodded his head. “We were engaged to be married at one time. Cheryl disagreed with my desire to be in the military.”

  “A secret military. It was foolhardy,” replied Cheryl unabashed. “Look at what it’s gotten you. You’re running from the Druins, and you can never return home.”

  Admiral Cleemorl let out a deep sigh. “I did what I had to do.”

  Taking a deep breath, Cheryl asked her next question. “What will you do if you find the old Imperials? You have to know that, by now, they could have all died out.”

  “It’s a chance I’m willing to take.” Cleemorl couldn’t help but notice how beautiful Cheryl was. Several times during his military career he had wondered if he had made a mistake in his decision to join the military. His life with Cheryl could have been very fulfilling.

  Frowning, Cheryl slowly nodded her head. “You have always been stubborn. Give me your list of supplies, and I’ll see what I can do.”

  Cleemorl did so. “Do you need my credit chip?”

  “No, not yet. Let me get your supplies first, and then we’ll discuss the price. Come back tomorrow at this time.”

  Cleemorl watched as Cheryl took the list and then left the table.

  “She seems like an interesting woman,” commented Fulmar impressed.

  “She is. She’s also the smartest one I’ve ever met.”

  A ruckus at one end of the bar drew their attention. Two Humans and a Devonian were involved in a loud argument. One of the Humans pushed the Devonian and drew his pistol threateningly. “Leave!” he demanded in a loud voice. “We don’t have what you’re seeking.”

  “Liar!” called out the Devonian, refusing to back down. “My sources confirm you have the artifact. Turn it over or risk the ire of my people.”

  Looking around, Cleemorl noticed that most of the people in the bar were ignoring the argument, an indication that this occurred quite regularly.

  Several other Devonians moved to stand next to the other one. Both had their furry hands on their pistols.

  The Humans stood face-to-face with the Devonians and then, as one, moved over to a large table and sat down. For the next few minutes they engaged in heated arguments. At the end, one of the Devonians handed over a credit chip, and one of the Humans slid a small package across the table.

  “So that’s how business is done here,” said Captain Fulmar with a deep frown.

  Cleemorl laughed. “Yes, and sometimes it can be very brutal. As I said earlier, everything you can possibly want is available here for the right price. However, a person must realize the people they’re dealing with are very unscrupulous and potentially dangerous.”

  The two men finished their drinks, and Cleemorl left a few credits on the table to pay for them. “Let’s get back to the Themis. The less time we spend out in the open, the better off we are.”

  -

  The two men walked down the street toward the hatches that would lead them to the docking bays. They stopped at a restaurant and looked inside, where families were eating, as you would find anywhere in civilized space. They did notice several large guards at the entrance, who collected all weapons before allowing anyone to enter.

  Fulmar stood, gazing at a family with three small children. “It’s hard to imagine raising your family here.”

  Cleemorl nodded. “There are schools and everything else in the residential sectors, which are patrolled by hired guards to ensure they stay safe. Those areas have large parks, specialized stores, and are very spacious.” Cleemorl gestured around them. “This is where all the action takes place and where all the credits change hands.”

  A few gunshots rang out down the street. Everyone ignored them and continued to go about their business.

  “I don’t think I could ever get used to this,” muttered Captain Fulmar.

  “I feel the same. That’s one reason Cheryl and I could never get our relationship to work out after I joined the military and she came out here.”

  The two continued down the street and were soon back inside the safety of the Themis.

  -

  The next day they were back in the bar
, waiting on Cheryl to put in an appearance. This time they ate a light meal, as the bar did have some food items.

  They were nearly finished when Cheryl strolled into the bar and made her way directly toward their table. She came to a stop and placed her hands on her hips. “I have what you need and more. However, there are some conditions.”

  Admiral Cleemorl let out a deep sigh. With Cheryl, there were always conditions. He gestured for her to sit down. “What are they?”

  Cheryl took a deep breath and then glanced directly at Cleemorl. “I’m coming with you.”

  “Now wait a minute,” objected Cleemorl. “My ships are all military. They’re not a place for a civilian, and where we’re going is unknown territory.”

  “Not a problem,” replied Cheryl. “I have my own ship.”

  Cleemorl leaned back in his chair and placed his arms over his chest, with a deep frown on his face. “Cheryl, where we’re going will be very dangerous. Not only that, the Druins might be looking for us.”

  “I can confirm that,” replied Cheryl. “A Druin battlecruiser came through earlier and scanned the system. Your ships are tucked away behind an asteroid, so I don’t think they were detected. However, there’s a good chance they’ll be back. It won’t take long for your presence to become known. Besides, if the Druins find out I helped you, I’m as good as dead.”

  Cleemorl looked at Captain Fulmar, hoping for some help.

  “She’s right,” said Fulmar. “The Druins have shown to be completely without mercy. As much as I hate to say it, she needs to come with us.”

  Cleemorl let out a deep breath. He didn’t like this, but what other choice did he have? “Very well, how soon can you have the supplies ready?”

  “We can begin loading your battlecruiser within the hour. I did manage to scrounge up some fusion missiles for your missile tubes.”

  “Where did you find fusion missiles?” asked Fulmar, stunned.

  Cheryl grinned. “In case Dylan didn’t explain, if you have the right contacts and credits, you can find nearly everything here, including fusion missiles.”

  “What type of ship do you have?” asked Cleemorl. He finally accepted that Cheryl must come with them.

 

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