“So…I feel you have something on your mind,” Cole said.
“Yes. I wish to talk of paths and goals and desires.”
Cole nodded. “Okay. Please proceed.”
“Ever since you first mentioned it, I have not been able to abandon the thought of forming my own clan. It does not help that Wixil keeps asking me why we don’t with frustrating regularity.” Cole tried not to grin. After all, it was his idea. “Beyond that, I find myself thinking about all the paths that stretch out before Wixil and me, and the more I consider the options, the more certain I become of the conclusion. I desire to name my Clan ‘Haven,’ and I would cast our lot with yours if you would have us.”
Cole grinned. “Of course, I’ll have you Yeleth, and please, don’t feel you have to name your Clan after my ship. You’re welcome here, either way.”
Yeleth gave Cole her approximation of a human smile again, and the unevolved part of Cole’s brain that housed the basic fight-or-flight response quailed in silent terror at being presented with a predator so close. But Cole made sure none of that reaction crossed his expression.
“Cole, it is because of you Wixil and I are free to make this choice. There can be no other name for the Clan and maintain our honor.”
Cole nodded. “As long as you don’t feel you must name your Clan ‘Haven,’ I think it’s perfect. I know it was appropriate for what the ship meant to me. Say, may I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
Cole sighed. “Do you know if Wixil is harboring any feelings for me?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Several times now, I’ve been napping on the bridge and woken up with her curled up on me. I don’t mind it, and I don’t want her to be in trouble. It’s just that it surprised me, and…well…I don’t want her to get hurt feelings.”
Yeleth leaned forward and placed her hand on Cole’s hands, drawing his eyes to hers. “Cole, the behavior you describe does indeed mean Wixil harbors feelings for you, but not—I think—the type of feelings you fear. Among our people, young ones sleep close to their parents…often touching them.”
Cole’s mind locked onto the word ‘parents,’ and he smiled. “You mean…”
“Yes. Wixil looks upon you as a surrogate father, and she’s been happier since we came aboard than I’ve ever seen her in recent years. I attribute that, in large part, to you and your acceptance of us.”
“It means a lot that Wixil looks upon me as a surrogate father. I give you my word, Yeleth; I will do everything in my power to ensure I live up to it.”
“I know you will. I have watched the two of you together, and I think you look after her almost as much as she looks up to you.”
“So, if you want to stay aboard, is there any specific job you’d like to have?”
“I have been reading about the different roles people fill on ships, and I like what I have read about the Purser. I have been interested in business and logistics since I was young, but my Clanless status never allowed me to be more than a menial among my people.”
“Well, you’re not Clanless anymore, and I like you being the ship’s Purser. We’ll visit a branch of Credit Suisse as soon as possible and get you set up to draw on the ship’s account. Once we’re crewed, all the galley staff and the recreation deck staff will report to you. The thing is, I can’t go recruiting willy-nilly. With the situation Sasha and Talia are in, I figure Haven will be the only place safe for them, so I need to recruit people who care more about the ideal Haven embodies than the monetary worth those two bounties represent.”
“It sounds like you need to recruit some Kiksaliks, then.”
“The insectoid race? Why?”
“They are telepathic. No one seems to know whether they are telepathic because of their hive-mind, or if they have a hive-mind because they’re telepathic. But the fact remains, they read minds. Declare the situation with Sasha and Talia during each interview, or one very much like it, and have the potential recruit state their intentions regarding the bounties in front of one or more Kiksaliks. They will know if the potential recruit speaks truth…and it so happens I know where we can find some Kiksaliks who would appreciate a berth aboard Haven as much as Wixil and I do, for much the same reasons.”
Cole nodded. “I’ll do that, but first things first. Haven?”
“Yes, Cole-Captain?”
Yeleth did not restrain her giggles. Cole sighed.
“Haven, at this time and as of this date, register the Ghrexel Yeleth as Ship’s Purser with all the rights, responsibilities, and privileges thereof.”
“Unable to comply, Cole-Captain. Ghrexel Yeleth does not have a genetic sample on file.”
Cole sighed again. “That is because you have not recorded it yet, Haven.”
The ship’s computer did not respond, but the hatch hiding the DNA scanner opened, allowing the device to rise to its full height.
“Go put a hand on the dome on top of the pedestal by the command chair, and I will warn you…there’s no part of it that’s pleasant.”
Yeleth unfolded herself and stood, crossing the short distance to place her left hand on the dome of the DNA scanner. Cole heard the whine he so clearly remembered, followed almost at once by a yowl.
“Yeleth has now been instated as Ship’s Purser at the date and time of your original command, Cole-Captain.”
Yeleth walked back into Cole’s view, staring at her hand, and resumed her seat.
“I feel ‘not pleasant’ does not describe that experience, Cole.”
Cole considered what felt like a very clear memory of when he’d claimed the ship and how his hand had been a tad raw for a day or so afterward and nodded. “Yeah…you’re probably right about that.”
Caledonia System
4 July 2999, 12:24 GST
Haven entered the Caledonia system a whole, whopping minute early. Sasha, Yeleth, and Wixil were on the bridge with Cole as he sat at the helm station, which had become something of his go-to station since every console he’d seen on the bridge was reconfigurable to any controls and the command chair didn’t have a console.
Cole was selecting the planet Caledonia out of the navigational database when the forward viewscreen activated and displayed a portion of the near-space sensor feed.
“Cole?” The bridge’s speakers broadcast Srexx’s voice.
“Yeah, Srexx?”
“May I call your attention to the sensor display I’ve highlighted on the forward viewscreen?”
Cole looked up from the helm station, saying, “Sure, Srexx. What are we looking at?”
“It would appear to be a pitched battle between forces identifying themselves as the Caledonian System Defense Force and the Aurelian Commonwealth Navy…a battle the SDF is losing.”
Sasha’s attention locked onto the viewscreen. “What? That doesn’t make any sense! Local SDFs and the Navy are on the same side!”
“Unless they’re not,” Cole said, offering a sidelong glance over his shoulder before returning his attention to the sensor display on the viewscreen.
Seeing the chaos created by the battle in the outer system, Cole was rather glad he’d asked his companions to take the time and re-connect all of Haven’s energy weapons. They still had no projectiles—like missiles or torpedoes—but Haven’s energy weapons were almost frightening to behold, once Cole (mostly) understood what they did. Come to find out, the forward-mounted grasers he’d used to cut a hole in the asteroid back in Pyllesc were the weakest weapons the ship possessed.
Cole watched a change in the sensor display that caused his eyes to narrow.
“Cole—” Srexx began.
“I see it, buddy…or at least I think I did. Did they just fire on escape pods?”
“Yes, Cole. They did. Six life pods were just destroyed.”
“Some SDF commanders can be a little rough, Cole,” Sasha said. “Yes, it’s a war crime, but—”
Cole spun to look Sasha right in the eyes, shaking his head. “It wasn’t the SD
F, Sasha. The Navy just wiped out six SDF life pods.”
Sasha paled as her left hand rose to cover her open mouth. “No…they wouldn’t—”
“I am afraid you are incorrect, Sasha,” Srexx said. “The cruiser Retribution destroyed four pods, and the frigate Breckenridge destroyed the other two. They used one missile each.”
“And I’m damned if I’m just going to sit here and watch them do it,” Cole growled.
During the four days they’d spent in transit, Cole had spent a few hours customizing the helm console to his personal preferences. The console was almost a C-shape but with the arms of the ‘C’ at 45º angles instead of 90º, and the console was divided into thirds. Cole had programmed the left third to contain all the commands for processes the ship’s computer automated, such as docking, undocking, initiating an outgoing comms call or responding to an incoming comms call, and so on. The center third held the actual helm and navigation controls, and the right third allowed Cole access to the weapons systems without leaving the helm.
Now, Cole swiveled his chair around to the right third and keyed the command to bring the ship to battle stations. The lights on the bridge dimmed just enough to notice as specialty lighting at different places around the bridge activated and shone a bright, blood red.
“Cole!” Sasha said, her voice almost a scream. “What are you doing?”
The read-outs on the right third of the helm station indicated weapons and shields were charging, and Cole redirected his attention to the helm controls. He locked in a course for the battle and goosed the sublight engines up to half-c, instructing the computer to calculate the appropriate ‘turn-over’ point and begin decelerating to come to rest relative to the life pods but between the Aurelian Navy ships and as many of the life pods as possible.
“What do you think I’m doing, Sasha? I’m going in there to keep those damn fools from killing any more defenseless people. The Aurelian Navy is committing war crimes, Sasha. Don’t you dare stand there and defend them to me, and you can bet your hide or whatever you care to lay on the table that I will respond if we’re fired upon.”
“But Cole…I thought this was just an armed freighter. You’ve always called it a heavy transport. Do you think it can stand up to a battleship, three cruisers, five destroyers, and ten frigates?”
“That’s a good question,” Cole said. “What do you think, Srexx?”
“This ship is not in fact an armed freighter. It is a Class I Battle-Carrier. Its weapons load-out matches that of a battleship, and beyond being triple-hulled, the ship possesses three layers of shielding out of five, with each layer capable of absorbing considerable amounts of energy. Barring an actual weapons strike to confirm my calculations, I conclude it is probable we will survive the conflict with little more than damage to the armor plating on the exterior hull. The sensor readings lead me to conclude further that five battleships would be untenable, but the forces we face—especially as the SDF continues to reduce their numbers—do not present an overwhelming threat to this ship. If the ship possessed full magazines of missiles and torpedoes, it is unlikely the Aurelian Navy force in its original configuration would have survived conflict with us.”
Sasha seemed to stare at nothing in particular, her breath little more than short, ragged gasps as her jaw worked without speaking.
“Okay, people,” Cole said, “we’re about fifteen minutes from contact. Find a seat; just because I’m convinced we’ll survive this, doesn’t mean it won’t be bumpy.”
“Cole,” Wixil said, almost hopping up and down, “may I go to the weapons station? I’ve been practicing!”
“Yes, Wixil, you have. Go ahead, but wait for me to call out instructions.”
The ship had reduced speed to a quarter-c, rather sedate and well within the computer’s capability to compensate for relativistic effects. Cole had selected the largest mass of life pods and was angling the ship to slide between them and the Aurelian Navy ships. The ship continued to slow as it re-oriented itself, and Cole adjusted the engine controls so that the ship soon had more lateral velocity than forward.
Weapons fire from both sides struck Haven’s shields, the ship being so large and Cole having ‘slid’ the ship into several lines of fire, and comms requests soon arrived from all sides…and almost all ships. Cole ignored them, though. They’d learn who he was soon enough, anyway.
“Srexx, is that transponder ready to go?” Cole asked.
“Yes, Cole.”
“Light it up,” Cole said, keying the command to record a voice message for omnidirectional transmission. “Attention. This is Captain Cole, aboard the Battle-Carrier Haven. We are a recent arrival in-system, and I cannot in good conscience witness the destruction of unarmed escape pods and not act. I do not take sides in your conflict; in fact, I do not care about your conflict. Any life pod—and I do mean any life pod—whose occupants fear for their safety is welcome to place Haven between itself and the conflict. We will defend ourselves and all those we shelter. Provoke our response at your peril.”
Cole keyed the command to stop recording and then sent the message in an omnidirectional burst across all frequencies and channels.
“Srexx, make sure the sensor logs of the Aurelian Navy firing on those escape pods is saved and able to be extracted for verification. Once we reach somewhere civilized, I intend to present that evidence to any news agency that will take it and also the nearest embassy of the Solar Republic. No…on second thought, Srexx, make sure our sensor logs of everything we witness are ready for export.”
“Cole, no…please,” Sasha said, her voice little more than a whimper. “You know how the Republic will respond.”
“You’re right, Sasha,” Cole said, “and if this is common across the entire Commonwealth now, the so-called Provisional Parliament deserves to be obliterated.”
Just then, one screen on Cole’s weapons board flashed red.
“Cole,” Wixil said, “a cruiser just made a firing pass on us. I think it’s the Retribution, and I think they’re trying to swing around us for the life pods.”
“Srexx, send messages to each life pod sheltering behind us. I will drop the ventral shields one layer at a time, and I want them on the flight deck ASAP. I need to maneuver.”
Cole maneuvered the ship in such a way that the ship’s bulk served as a shield for the life pods until they were inside the shield sphere.
“The life pods are on the flight deck, Cole,” Wixil said, “but there are about twenty more inbound.”
Cole focused on the helm controls and the firing arc of the ship’s starboard weapons. His focus was apparent in his voice as he said, “Wixil, work with Srexx. Let those life pods pass through our shields, so they can land on the flight deck.”
Haven was a sitting duck, for all intents and purposes, and the Aurelian Navy now seemed to be splitting their fire between the Caledonian SDF and Haven, which wasn’t working out so well for them as the SDF was using the reduced fire to drive home shots of their own in greater quantity.
Haven had a better turning rate than the cruiser that had fired on her, and Cole soon had that cruiser bracketed by the starboard weapons. When the control labeled ‘Fire!’ flashed, he tapped that control and, through the sensors, watched the cruiser’s entire starboard shield wall disappear…along with noticeable pieces of its hull. A massive explosion gutted the cruiser’s engines, and Cole paid attention just long enough to see the cruiser go into an uncontrolled drift. Whether it was dead or just incapable of maneuvering, the cruiser Retribution was out of the fight.
Aurelian Navy ships continued to batter Haven, and Cole saw that the outer-most shield layer was down to 34%, with the middle shield layer down to 95%, when the last Caledonian SDF ship broke apart. Cole held Haven in place long enough for the remaining life pods to land on the flight deck, and by the time he swung the ship around to resume course for Caledonia, the outer-most shields were gone with middle shields at 65%. Once the proper heading was locked into the helm, Cole s
et the sublight engines to half-c and watched the Aurelian task force vanish from the near-space scan.
“Such loss of life is very unfortunate,” Srexx remarked. “Do you think either side attempted to reason with the other?”
Cole shook his head. “I don’t know, buddy. I agree with you, if you want to know the truth, but a thought keeps circling my mind.”
“May I ask what that thought is, Cole?”
“There’s a saying that dates back to before we ever left our homeworld: Evil triumphs through the inaction of good people. I would much rather none of us ever needed any weapons, but at the same time, I simply cannot sit by and watch if I can do something.”
“Interesting. I shall devote resources to evaluating that maxim against my core philosophies.”
“That’s all any of us can do, buddy.”
Chapter Fifteen
In transit to the planet Caledonia
Caledonia System
Once Haven was on course to the planet Caledonia, Cole stood from the helm station and regarded Sasha, Yeleth, and Wixil. He smiled.
“So, who wants to go with me to meet our guests on the flight deck?”
Wixil volunteered, and so did Yeleth. Sasha surprised Cole by demurring, indicating she preferred to go to the quarters where she showered. Cole shrugged and escorted everyone off the bridge. At the transit shafts, Sasha took the shaft up to Deck One, while Cole, Yeleth, and Wixil took the shaft down to Deck Eleven. From there, they had to cross to the transit shafts that connected Deck Eleven to Deck Twelve, the flight deck.
Stepping through the hatch and onto the flight deck, Cole watched several of the many people there turn their way. A delegation of five separated from the group and approached Cole and the Ghrexels. The person in the lead was a woman wearing a Caledonian SDF uniform with the rank insignia of a senior lieutenant. Two of her associates were a junior lieutenant and an ensign; the others were enlisted spacers. Cole didn’t know Aurelian enlisted rank insignia well enough to recognize what rank those two held.
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