It Ain't Over

by Robert M Kerns

  “I’m sorry if we’re barging in,” Garret said, “but there’s no one out front.”

  Cole waved him in and gestured at the chairs facing him across the desk. Garrett walked to a chair and sat. The Kiksalik moved to stand beside Cole’s desk.

  “Yeah…I probably need a yeoman or something like that. I hope you don’t mind the Kiksalik coming with you. I need to discuss a few matters with the local nest, and our conversation won’t take too long. How are you holding up?”

  Garrett grinned. “This ship is amazing, Cole! Your dad and grandfather would’ve given the Trust for it.”

  “I’m glad you’re doing okay,” Cole said, smiling himself. “I wanted to discuss a job.”

  “Cole, I told you I worked for your father, but I never discussed my role.”

  “You were his spymaster…or, at the least, one of his higher agents.”

  Garrett blinked. “You shouldn’t know that. How do you know?”

  Cole shrugged. “I’ve had thirteen years to think about it. All those lessons you taught me about surviving? Yeah…they work well for someone used to moving unseen through Human society, and every time you visited, you and my father would always disappear for several hours. Sure…you could have discussed stock reports or what have you, but he used a different office for business matters like that.”

  Garrett leaned back against his seat, his expression betraying his surprise. “Wow. I’m rather impressed you pieced it all together. So, what job did you have in mind?”

  Cole glanced to the Kiksalik for a moment before looking back to Garrett, thinking, Well? What do you read?

  He is loyal to your family, Captain. His lack of foreknowledge regarding the massacre is a wound resting just below the surface of his mind. He would give his life if it would change anything.

  Cole said, “I want you do the same thing for me. Do you accept?”

  “Cole,” Garrett said, his voice shifting to a serious tone, “I’ve worked for your family my entire adult life. The story I told you on the hospital deck wasn’t why I was in Iota Ceti; it was the cover story I used. I’ve used the network I built for your father to trace the slaver operations, and I would slip that information to someone who could do something about it.”

  “Who was paying you?” Cole asked.

  “I set aside a nice little nest egg for a very rainy day before the massacre, and I’ve invested it. I’ve been living off the dividends from those investments and selling the occasional tidbit of information here and there to keep my information network paid and interested. But, yes, I accept.”

  Cole nodded. “Good. Your first mission is to find Sasha’s parents and older brother and learn who’s behind framing them for the coup that kicked off the civil war across the Commonwealth. When we arrive in Tristan’s Gate, I’ll slip you a stack of cred-sticks with some spending money for you. Do whatever you need to do to get me that information.”

  Garrett nodded. “I never failed your father…unless you count not hearing even a whisper of the impending attack.”

  “I don’t. All that’s ancient history anyway. I wish I knew who was behind it to know how big of a target I’ll have on me if I ever step up and admit to being the Coleson Heir.”

  “Don’t think I didn’t investigate,” Garrett said. “I think that trail went cold the day of the attack. No one was saying anything about it, other than that it happened.”

  Cole nodded. “Well, plan your work on this job. Get me a shopping list if there’s anything you need, or just wait for the credits and use that for what you need. Your choice. Oh, and see Talia on the hospital deck about upgrading your implant.”

  “All right,” Garrett said with a nod. “Anything else?”

  “Nope,” Cole said, “not until Tristan’s Gate anyway.”

  “I’ll get you my comms code as soon as the new implant is working,” Garrett said as he stood. He walked to the hatch and left.

  Just then, the hatch irised open, and a Ghrexel poked a head into the office. “Are you ready, Captain?”

  Cole nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

  The Ghrexel and a female Ghrexel led their prisoner into the office. The prisoner in question was the woman who had begged Cole to take them, too. In fact, Cole almost didn’t recognize her. She bore a fair complexion with copper-tinged, wavy hair, and her blue eyes were just as vibrant as Cole remembered. She wore a plain ship-suit, colored blaze orange.

  “Have a seat,” Cole said.

  The woman glanced around the room like a prey animal surrounded by predators before moving slowly to the chair nearest to her and sitting.

  “You’re him, aren’t you?” she asked.

  “Him who?” Cole asked.

  “The guy in heavy armor back on the station. You’re him.”

  Cole smiled. “What makes you say that?”

  “You don’t forget someone who saves your life when he doesn’t have to, and I have this feeling you’re him.”

  Cole nodded, still smiling. “Yes. I was in the heavy armor. I wanted to talk with you…how you ended up there, what you want out of life, that kind of thing.”

  The woman scoffed. “What the hell does it matter what I want out of life? If you knew half of what I’ve had to do, you’d drop me on a prison planet somewhere and forget you ever saw me.”

  “Let’s take all that and set it aside for the moment,” Cole said. “Suppose you had a clean slate and a chance to start over. If you could do anything in the galaxy, what would it be?”

  The woman sat in silence for several moments, blinking. “I…I don’t know. I’ve been who and what I’ve had to be for so long, it’s all I know.”

  Cole sighed. This wasn’t working as well as he’d hoped. Nothing for it, then…maybe revealing his ace in the hole would shake something out of her. Cole shifted his attention to the Kiksalik.

  “So? What do you say?”

  She is conflicted.

  “What the stellar hell!” the woman almost shouted, coming out of her seat and backing into the corner formed by the bulkhead and Cole’s desk. “I could hear those words in my mind!”

  “Kiksaliks can read minds; they’re telepathic,” Cole said. “I’ve hired them to be my truth-testers.”

  The woman’s eyes went wide, and her right hand flew to her gaping mouth. “Oh stars…I am so sorry. Everyone thought you guys couldn’t understand Standard. They said all kinds of bad things to you and about you.”

  It is of no moment, child. Those were experiences from which to learn, and this captain has welcomed us aboard without reservation. We have found our Haven, and so can you…as long as you allow yourself to hope again.

  Captain, it is undeniable this one has committed acts that would garner her a life sentence to a prison planet, but we do not evaluate that she is irredeemable. As we indicated, she lost hope a long time ago and struggles with the concept of there being anything better.

  Cole nodded and shifted his attention to the woman, saying, “You should know you’re the only one of your fellows with this option. The rest see nothing wrong in what they’ve done, and they’ll do it all again if given half a chance. I’m turning them over to authorities in Tristan’s Gate, and they’ll probably end up on a prison planet. That will be your fate only if you choose it. Think it over.”

  “I already have. I’d like to join you…maybe see if I can learn what this ‘hope’ is you’re all talking about.”

  Cole turned to the two Ghrexels and said, “Get her some real clothes and a bunk assignment. Take her to Yeleth for signing aboard.” Cole stood and turned back to the woman, extending his right hand as he said, “I’m Cole.”

  The woman moved closer and accepted Cole’s hand, giving him a firm handshake. “I’m Akyra Tomar.”

  Beta Magellan System

  8 August 2999, 05:03 GST

  Sasha jogged through the access corridor to the bridge, slowing to a normal pace as she reached the second hatch. She’d overslept, and therefore, she was a minute late—two
at the most—for the day shift on the bridge. The second hatch irised open as she approached, and she walked through it, still focused on her internal thoughts. When she lifted her head to call for a report from Mazzi or whoever turned out to be officer of the deck, Sasha froze. The bridge was one person shy of being vacant. Cole stood in almost the exact center of the space, staring at the forward viewscreen that displayed an old-fashioned ‘top-down’ view of the star system.

  “Cole?” Sasha asked. “Where is everyone?”

  Cole didn’t react to Sasha’s presence or respond. In fact, aside from the slight, rhythmic rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathed, there was no evidence Cole was anything more than a statue. Sasha stepped closer and touched Cole’s shoulder. Cole didn’t—quite—jump, but he turned to face Sasha with undue haste.

  “Oh, hi, Sasha,” Cole said. “What are you doing here? I gave everyone the day off.”

  Sasha blinked. “What?”

  “The message I sent all bridge crew last night…well…the whole ship, really. Today’s a rest day. No watch standing, none of that. We’ve been pushing things rather hard, after all.”

  “Beta Magellan, right?” Sasha asked.

  Cole blinked. “How did you know?”

  Sasha shrugged. “It made sense. Where would you hide something you wanted no one else to find, especially something valuable you were counting on having many years down the road? There’s only one place you could be sure no one would ever find it. Beta Magellan…since the word going around Human space is that the Beta Magellan jump gate no longer works and CIE can’t explain why. You okay? You looked like a statue when I entered the bridge.”

  Cole sighed and turned back to stare at the viewscreen. “Overall, yes…I’m fine. Nothing is playing out like I expected, though. Every time I’ve been here before…well, the last several years, anyway…it was just me, and I was building a stash to disappear. Do you know how much of Qeecir’s illicit metal I have stashed on an asteroid, Sasha? Seven thousand kilograms. With what was in the hold of the Howling Monkey, that would’ve been a little over one-point-eight billion credits. I’d never be able to spend that in my lifetime. Now, though, I have people depending on me. I can’t just disappear. Srexx wants to see the galaxy, and I do too. But we can’t see the galaxy without people crewing this ship, and we can’t have people crewing this ship without being aware of what’s going on in the galaxy at large.”

  “What are you going to do, Cole?” Sasha asked, sensing he was at or approaching a point of decision.

  “I will retrieve my stash and take it to the Credit Suisse branch in Tristan’s Gate.”

  “Are you sure you want to do that? Credit Suisse is an upstanding institution; all the Zurich banks are. I’m not sure they’d handle the sale of stolen ingots.”

  Cole smiled. “Well, for one thing…those ingots aren’t stolen.”

  “But, Cole, you just told me you stole them from that Qeecir guy, whoever he is. That makes them stolen.”

  “I suppose you’re right, but Qeecir can’t report them. They’re unstamped and unregistered. I don’t know what his source is, but I’ve transported over fifty thousand kilograms of precious metals for Qeecir over the last few years. Well…I’ve piloted his freighter. The Howling Monkey wasn’t mine.”

  Sasha blinked. “Seriously? Fifty thousand kilograms of precious metals, and it was all unstamped and unregistered?”

  Cole nodded. “Yup. Every single ingot.”

  “Okay, then. I don’t feel so bad about you pilfering seven thousand kilos.”

  Cole grinned. “I’m so glad I have your approval. The question was keeping me awake at night.”

  Sasha replied with a look that suggested she was not amused, and Cole laughed as he left the bridge. Cole headed across the corridor to his day-cabin where he retrieved his suit. From there, he took the forward cargo transit shaft all the way to Cargo One, where the sled had been spending most of its time. Climbing into the pilot’s seat, Cole brought the cargo sled online and piloted it over to the cargo transit shaft, going up to the flight deck before exiting the ship. As he preferred, no one—minus Sasha—even knew he was gone.

  Cole was wrong about how many trips he’d have to make. The cargo sled’s grav field accommodated all seven pallets of precious metals; it carried the pallets three abreast in two rows, with the seventh making a partial third row. The seven thousand kilograms didn’t even come close to maxing out the grav field’s mass capacity, either.

  Cole returned the metal to Haven, securing the pallets in the otherwise-empty Cargo Two, before returning the cargo sled to where he’d found it in Cargo One. After shutting down the cargo sled, Cole stepped out of its pilot seat and exited his suit, the short time maneuvering the cargo being sufficient to replenish the suit’s air reservoir. He took the suit back to his day-cabin and returned to the bridge, finding it vacant. Cole hoped Sasha was enjoying her time off as he went to the helm and set course for Tristan’s Gate. The computer projected a transit time of a few minutes over eight days. Cole nodded in acceptance and locked the course before engaging the engines. He didn’t feel the ship swing around the asteroid and head to the system periphery along the heading toward Tristan’s Gate, but that was okay. If he didn’t feel it, nobody else would, either. A couple of hours later, the ‘Engage Hyperdrive’ control lit up, and not even a full minute after Cole keyed the command, Haven vanished from Beta Magellan.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  The eight days (and change) in transit to Tristan’s Gate gave Cole, Sasha, and Yeleth the opportunity to work out the ranks and paygrades necessary to hire people. After much discussion, they settled on using the ratings and proficiencies set forth by the Interstellar Spacers’ Association to establish requirements for each rank and paygrade. It wasn’t perfect, but the ISA had an excellent tree of proficiencies, even including ship captains and above. Cole wondered where he’d fit in the proficiency tree, but given the situation with his identity, he had no interest in registering with the ISA to find out.

  System Periphery

  Tristan’s Gate System

  16 August 2999, 13:08 GST

  As a star system, Tristan’s Gate looked much like any other from the system periphery. The sensor display indicated quite a bit of traffic, supporting his conversations with Sasha during the transit that the system was a major trading port for the region. Cole had just selected the orbital station as their destination, which was also named Tristan’s Gate, from the sensor display when Jennings spoke.

  “Captain, we just monitored a distress call. It’s an omnidirectional broadcast, all channels and frequencies.”

  “Put it on,” Cole said.

  The speakers chirped right before a woman’s voice played over the bridge’s speakers.

  “I say again…this is the independent freighter Beauchamp. We are under attack by an Aurelian frigate. I’m carrying three-hundred refugees, and we are defenseless. Our engines and life support are damaged, and the frigate is demanding we prepare to be boarded. Please, if anyone receives this, we need help!”

  Cole turned back to Sasha, frowning as he asked, “I thought Tristan’s Gate was neutral. Is it part of the Commonwealth?”

  “No. It’s not even a protectorate or client state or anything like that. It’s just one of our trading partners.”

  “Right, then,” Cole said as he swiveled back around to the console. “Sound battle stations. Anyone who doesn’t have an assigned station should return to their bunk.”

  Cole brought up the sensor display again and ran a search for the freighter Beauchamp. The computer re-focused the sensor display on a transponder code. Cole zoomed out the display and saw a transponder code for an Aurelian frigate. Both ships looked to have exited the jump gate less than two hours ago. Cole programmed a course that would drop Haven in between the two ships and set the engines to a quarter-lightspeed. As soon as the ship had re-oriented on the new course, Cole ran the sublight engines up to three-quarters-lightspeed.
/>
  A smidgen over twenty minutes later, Cole slid Haven into position between the freighter and the frigate, programming the helm to match speed with the freighter only in reverse since Haven’s bow pointed toward the frigate.

  “Jennings, send a hail to the frigate, but make sure the freighter can listen.”

  The chirp of an open channel soon played across the bridge.

  “This is the Battle-Carrier Haven. We’re responding to the freighter Beauchamp’s distress call and advise you stand down. This isn’t Aurelian space.”

  “Haven, this is the Aurelian frigate Mondant. That freighter is harboring insurgents and revolutionaries from the Aurelian Commonwealth, and we have been ordered to retrieve them to face justice.”

  The bridge speakers chirped once more. Jennings had made it a conference call, instead of just copying the exchange to the freighter.

  “Don’t listen to him, Haven, please! This is the captain of the Beauchamp, and my ship was hired to carry—”

  The audio died with a burst of static.

  “What happened?” Cole asked.

  “The frigate closed their end of the channel and jammed all communications frequencies in the vicinity.”

  “Is that so…” Cole said more to himself than anyone else. Cole’s fingers flew over the helm console, reconfiguring it to access the sensors…both the sensor logs and the current feeds. Cole focused on the freighter’s dimensions.

  “Hmmm…I’m reading the freighter is about one-hundred-fifty meters long with a beam of about seventy-five meters at the widest.” Cole said to himself as he shifted his search to schematics for his ship. The ingress and egress ports on the flight deck were one-hundred-twenty meters wide and fifteen meters tall. Now, Cole lifted his voice and said, “Jennings, work with Mazzi. If you can identify a laser comms node on the freighter, I want to talk to the captain.”

  “Cole,” Srexx said, “forgive the interruption, but given our proximity to the freighter, it should require little effort to force a communication through the frigate’s jamming. There is sufficient distance and their transmitter is weak enough that it cannot compete.”