It Ain't Over
Page 26
It started in ones and twos across the first and second ranks, but soon, it spread throughout all the refugees until each one knelt before Sasha, their heads bowed. Tears streamed down Sasha’s cheeks, and she gestured with her hands for the refugees to stand.
“No! Please! Don’t kneel to me. I’m not your liege, and you’re not subjects. I’m no better than any of you.”
No one moved to stand, and Sasha turned and left. Talia looked at Cole for the briefest moment as if asking what she should do, before she turned and went after her sister. Cole was never one to appreciate slavish devotion, and he gave it a few seconds after Talia left before leaving.
Cole stepped out of the transit shaft that connected the flight deck to the deck Cole called ‘Pilot Country’ and found Talia standing just a short distance away. Sasha paced back and forth in the middle of the cross-corridor, her motions harsh and very similar to a caged animal.
“—do they think they are? I will not be a queen in exile! No one in our family was ever a monarch, and I’m not even certain I want the Commonwealth rebuilt, anyway.”
Talia gave Cole a questioning look, and Cole just shrugged. When he moved past Sasha, she pivoted to him and pointed at his chest with an extended index finger.
“Do you hear me, Cole? I won’t have it!”
“It makes no difference to me, whatever course you want to chart for your life. I was just going back to the bridge before finding my bed.”
Sasha’s anger seemed to deflate, and the accusing finger—and its accompanying fist—fell to her side. “Oh.”
“Don’t let yourself get too worked up about it. It’ll all come out in the wash, anyway. Besides, once we get the warrants rescinded and the bounties revoked, you can do whatever you want. You could even change your name and travel the stars with me. I don’t think any human has been to the far side of the galaxy yet.”
Sasha’s expression was inscrutable. “Let’s deal with the bounty and warrant first.”
“Atta-girl.” Cole moved past the sisters again, headed for the transit shaft leading to the upper decks. “You kids can do what you want, but I’m going to bed after checking the bridge. It’s been a long day.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Tristan’s Gate was claimed and settled in 2472, when the explorer ship Tristan’s Bounty—owned and operated by the somewhat eccentric Tristan Miles—suffered a catastrophic failure in its jump engine for the third time in its voyage. Captain Miles possessed no more spare parts with which to effect repairs, so he made the system his home.
The system was something of a bounty in and of itself. Two Earth-type worlds orbited a bright-yellow main-sequence star in the goldilocks zone…and…while only one system was close enough to build jump gates coming in from human-controlled space, there were four as-yet-unexplored systems close enough to link to the system. And so, the system became known as Tristan’s Gate, developing into a hub for transportation and trade as further exploration delved deeper into the galaxy.
Even into the modern day, only one of the two Earth-type worlds—named Tristan’s World—supported human settlement. The system’s population had yet to outgrow the original settled planet. When the system built an orbital station to facilitate trade and system defense, the system government applied the system’s name to it, with the common day-to-day vernacular shortening it to ‘the Gate.’
Docking Slip 12, Tristan’s Gate
Tristan’s Gate System
17 August 2999, 10:15 GST
Upon reaching the Gate, Cole worked with the local shipyard to release Captain Painter’s freighter to a unit of four tugs designed to minimize stress on any rescued ship that could have spaceframe damage; he also arranged for the shipyard to take the life pods off his flight deck, too. Once Beauchamp was on its way to a repair slip and damage assessment and the life pods gone, Cole requested docking privileges with water and air replenishment services for Haven.
Cole saw the freighter’s refugees off the ship as soon as Haven docked in Slip 12, not even a little surprised that Sasha and Talia were nowhere to be seen. He stood and accepted the thanks of every passenger he’d rescued, until it was just Captain Painter standing in front of him.
“So…Captain Cole…we made it.”
Cole nodded. “Yes, Captain Painter, I believe we did.”
“I’ll be honest; there were quite a few times before you arrived that I thought I was on my way to say hi to Dad and Grandpa again. The way you swooped in right when you did…well, you saved many people.”
Cole shrugged. “I never liked bullies much. You going to be okay?”
“I’ll survive. Won’t know what my options are until the shipyard gets back with an engineering evaluation.”
“I know how that is. I’ll be around for a while if you need anything.” Cole pulled his left hand out of his pocket and slipped Painter an old-fashioned business card. “That has my comms code on it. I can’t always guarantee you could reach me through the ship.”
“Yeah, but I could look you up in the directory. Active comms codes on stations are added to the public directory. Do you walk around with ‘Do Not Disturb’ flagged?”
Cole grinned. “The station registry doesn’t record all comms codes.”
“Huh?”
“Don’t worry about it, and wait till you’re alone to look at the card. Something tells me you’ll see what I mean.”
Painter slid the business card into the left pocket of her trousers and sealed the pocket. “You never do anything the easy way, do you?”
“I managed it for years…but life has a way of catching up with you.”
“It does indeed. Thanks again, Cole.”
Cole waited until Painter had sauntered through the station’s airlock and sealed the hatch. He headed for the nearest transit shaft and worked through his mental to-do list. The people aboard the life pods from the frigate asked Cole if he was hiring, and when every single one of them passed a review by Kiksaliks, Cole said he was. With the one-hundred-seventeen people from the frigate’s life pods, his crew complement was up to 935.
The Interstellar Spacers’ Association served as a combination union and certification authority for anyone plying the space lanes. Most agencies associated with a government did not use the ISA, except for System Defense Forces. Enough of an overlap existed between merchant spacers and SDF reserves that most SDFs integrated the ratings used by the ISA as part of their qualification and promotion program, which was what Cole planned to do.
The local branch of the ISA maintained their offices in the station’s core, which made it easier for Cole, Sasha, Talia, Yeleth, and Wixil to take a tram than walk the distance. Besides the Ghrexels’ claws and teeth, Cole and Sasha both carried sidearms in thigh holsters and laser carbines, designed to be safe in a station environment. Sure, a few people gave them looks, but if anyone recognized Sasha or Talia, Cole wanted to deter them from doing anything about it.
A pleasant, welcoming ambiance suffused the ISA offices, and the middle-age Ghrexel sitting behind the reception desk perked up at their entrance. Cole suspected she was more interested in Yeleth and Wixil, but he wasn’t too worried, either way.
“Do you mind if I start the conversation?” Yeleth asked as the five of them approached the desk.
Cole smiled. “Not at all.”
Yeleth stepped forward, Wixil remaining in her position as rear guard. She stopped a respectful distance from the reception desk, her ears perked and tail swishing side to side.
“I am Yeleth, Matron of Clan Haven. We are forty-five strong and have allied with Cole of the Battle-Carrier Haven.”
The Ghrexel behind the reception desk angled her head toward her left shoulder, her tail languidly swishing. “I have not heard of Clan Haven. What honors do you claim?”
“We are a young clan, recently formed. We have no honors of note…as yet.”
“I am Viskha of Clan Ghrexel. Well met, Yeleth. May your hunts always be victorious…but never too easy. W
hat brings your party to the ISA this day?”
“My captain, Cole of the Haven, desires business with the ISA,” Yeleth said, turning to indicate Cole.
Cole took that as his cue and approached the reception desk. He nodded once, saying, “Well met. I hope the day treats you well.”
“Well met, Captain Cole. How can the ISA serve you?”
“I’d like to open a ship account with the ISA. I recently formed my company, Haven Enterprises, and I’d like to integrate ISA ratings and certifications into the promotion qualifications and paygrades. Everyone you see here is a member of my crew, plus 931 more. Some of these people have been…well…out of touch with the wider galaxy for some time, and I’d like to pay for their initial assessments, medical exams, and anything else they need to establish their records with the ISA. Once we’re through that, I’d like to pay for anyone who wishes to take certification exams to do so. At the tail end of all that, I’ll sit down with my first officer and my purser to work out what ranks and positions to offer to whom. How does that sound?”
“That sounds like I should be grateful you didn’t bring all 935 of them at once,” Viskha said, her statement almost a purr. “We also don’t see too many armed individuals, either. There’s no prohibition against it…but the Gate is a very safe and well-maintained station.”
Cole grinned, pointing his thumb over his shoulder toward Sasha. “That’s my first officer, Sasha Thyrray. She resigned her commission in the Aurelian Navy to join my ship’s crew. Just to her right is my only doctor at the moment, Sasha’s sister Talia.”
By the time Cole finished speaking, Viskha’s tail had stopped swishing and stood almost straight up in the air. Her ears were perked up, and her eyes might’ve been wider.
“You have every reason to be concerned,” Viskha said, “especially outside the ISA offices…but there are some here I would not trust.”
“So, how do we do this?” Cole asked.
The next several minutes were spent setting up the account to draw on the ship’s account. After that, it was a simple matter of getting everyone registered. To minimize the running around, Viskha set Yeleth, Wixil, Sasha, and Talia up to take their entry assessments while they were there and, later, have a medical facility run through physical exams and forward copies to the ISA. Once the initial accounts and records were created, Viskha sent them to the assessment booths. Talia, Yeleth, and Wixil went first, because Viskha thought she could pull Sasha’s personnel jacket from the bi-annual update the Aurelian Commonwealth sent the ISA.
Once Haven had an account with ISA, Cole could then use that account to keep training and study materials up-to-date on the ship for his crew. Granted, what the crew would interact with on a day-to-day basis was centuries more advanced than the technology used in the testing examples, but the basic principles of damage control or first response or operations were almost universal.
Cole stood side-by-side with Sasha in the hallway outside the assessment room Talia occupied; Yeleth and Wixil occupied their own assessment rooms next to Talia’s. Cole was spending the waiting time thinking through the logistics of circling his crew through the ISA, the medical clinic, and the local banks. He’d like to see all of his people choose Credit Suisse for their banking needs, but that choice was their business. He, Sasha, and Yeleth had decided on a base salary of twenty-four-thousand credits per Galactic Standard Year for a recruit with zero experience or knowledge. The math worked out to sixty-five credits and ninety-three centicreds per day, plus or minus a millicred or three.
Cole planned to date each person’s employment the day they agreed to come aboard as crew and pay them for every day since…with a five-thousand-credit signing bonus. He would pay them off the base salary to start, just so they had some ‘walking around money,’ and once they slotted into their positions and ranks aboard-ship, they’d receive a lump-sum payment accounting for the difference.
Besides accounting, Cole also thought about the decks he called ‘Marine Country’ and ‘Pilot Country.’ He hadn’t looked at the specs Srexx had released to him yet; he just knew he’d been granted access to a datastore on the ship. Cole didn’t like transmitting the schematics for small craft like fighters or bombers to some random shipyard for construction; that struck him as an all-too-easy way for those schematics to get out ‘in the wild.’ So…he’d need his own shipyard, which meant he’d need people to staff the shipyard which meant he’d need mining ships and miners to supply the people staffing the shipyard. And each time he thought of more people he’d need, the credits required increased…in some cases an exponential increase.
“Damn…” Cole muttered, sighing.
Sasha jerked her head to look at him. “What?”
“There’s no other way around it. To do everything I need to do, I must go to Zurich. I don’t see how I’ll have the credits otherwise.”
“What are you thinking?”
“Srexx released schematics for fighters, bombers, and I’m not sure what all else to me, and these schematics are based on the level and types of tech in Haven.” Cole enjoyed watching Sasha’s eyes widen. “Yeah. But I don’t like taking these schematics to some random shipyard and saying, ‘Hey, if I supply the materials, will you build me this many fighters and this many bombers?’ There’s no guarantee they wouldn’t make backup copies of the schematics, and I don’t want Gyv’Rathi tech out in the wild. So, I will need a shipyard…and mining ships…and smelters…and forges…and people to run all of it. It’s a billion-credit job, just to get everything in line to build Haven a fighter wing.”
“You should talk to Uncle Sev,” Sasha said.
Cole quirked his eyebrow. “Uncle Sev?”
“He works at the shipyard, here in Tristan’s Gate. Last I heard, he was the Chief Operations Officer or something. He’d be able to tell you what you need to get started.”
“Would he, though?” Cole asked. “I mean, I’m setting up something that will one day compete with the place where he works.”
“It never hurts to ask,” Sasha replied. “If you go over there, tell him I said hello.”
Cole grinned. “Will do.”
Cole was silent for a little while longer as he turned over everything in his mind. Since stepping forward and claiming his inheritance was looking more and more like the only option to move forward, Cole concluded that he might as well go all the way if he was going to resume his public identity.
Decision made, Cole couldn’t keep from chuckling as he said, “Come on. We’ll still have line-of-sight to the assessment room from the reception desk. Want to watch me blow Viskha’s mind?”
Sasha expressed her confusion with a frown but followed Cole to the reception desk.
“Hello again, Captain Cole,” Viskha said as Cole approached. “How else can I help you?”
“Hi, Viskha. My name is Bartholomew James Coleson, and I’d like to register with the ISA.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Three hours passed before Cole, Sasha, Talia, Yeleth, and Wixil left the ISA offices. Given all the hours as Pilot-In-Command that Cole had logged over the years—all recorded by his implant and copied to the new implant by Srexx—Cole left the ISA with a Master Pilot certification on his record for every class of vessel up to and including capital ships. His record also carried certificates for Journeyman Engineer, Journeyman Steward, and Journeyman Deck Officer…but Cole didn’t give those a second thought. He was proudest of the Master Pilot.
Sasha and Talia wanted to get their medical exams out of the way as soon as possible, but Cole needed to visit Credit Suisse. Yeleth and Wixil offered to go with the sisters, as they needed medical exams, too…which left Cole to visit the bank. After passing his rifle to Yeleth and parting ways with the four ladies, Cole accessed StationNet through his implant and obtained a location for the local Credit Suisse branch. The address StationNet provided put Credit Suisse in the station’s core, so Cole walked instead of finding a tram. It took Cole less than twenty minutes to arrive. Pl
easant music provided a welcoming ambiance as Cole entered the office, and the carpeting on the deck was a welcome change from the bare metal he’d seen everywhere else. A young woman sat behind the reception desk, and she smiled as she looked up at Cole’s approach.
“Welcome to Credit Suisse, and thank you for visiting. How may I assist you?”
Cole smiled. “Hi. I think I need to speak with one of the branch managers.”
“If I may inquire for a little more information, it would help me ensure you speak with the proper person.”
Cole’s smile turned into a wide, bright grin for just a moment before he spoke. “My name is Bartholomew James Coleson, and I need to tie a retinal-scan account to my personal data record…and withdraw funds on cred-sticks.”
“And may I ask how many cred-sticks you will need?”
Cole fought to keep his grin from re-surfacing. “Nine-hundred thirty-five, with an overall total across all the cred-sticks in excess of six million credits.”
The lady did an excellent job of maintaining her non-expression, even though Cole thought her control came very close to breaking. She lifted her right arm into sight above the desk and gestured to the collection of chairs over Cole’s left shoulder.
“Yes, of course, sir. If you don’t mind having a seat for a moment, I’ll notify a manager at once. May I offer you some refreshment, sir?”
Cole waited less than ten minutes before a blond-haired woman wearing an attractive skirt suit approached him. Cole stood to greet her.
“Hello, sir. I am Amelia Obrist, one of the branch managers. Our receptionist indicated you claim to be the heir to the Coleson Trust, in addition to some other banking matters. If you will follow me, we will verify your identity before discussing business.”