by J. F. Holmes
The operation was simple. Apply for jobs, get jobs, make contact with Donna, find out what the hell was really going down. Kill Dominic Cray or anyone else needing killing.
Saully was in charge of padding the resumes and making the connections, which he said he could do easily. Tito had clearances covered. Sherry was in charge of finding out more about the company people on site. Jack and Phil had supplies covered. Only one thing left to do, and that was get to the Indera System.
The following morning, Saully gave everyone a call and stated their package had been accepted, along with several hundred more new hires within thirty lightyears. The charter Jack had hired wasn’t the biggest transport, and wasn’t the newest by a long shot, but it was a solid ship design that several of the team were familiar with. Stable as hell while tunneling a wormhole across the cosmos, and could take a beating if they ran into debris or unexpected company. Massing just over four thousand tons, the Merlin’s Ghost was solidly capable of getting them to Indera.
As the team entered the ship, it was apparently captained by a person who hated disorder. Rosia Young was the ship’s pilot and owner, and was cleaner than most auto-vac toilets. Usually the interiors of ships were cleaned via robotic services, but this one was obviously cleaned by hand. No robot could be so thorough.
Rosia was good looking; if it wasn’t for the robotic eye and partial face shield, she’d be a classic brunette. The team had come aboard slightly ahead of schedule, which seemed to please Rosia, and she mentioned that it was good to work with former military. More simply, because they knew how to be respectful and that other people’s time was money. Stowing their gear, the group met in the common area as Captain Young went over the mandatory safety briefings and emergency actions should the ship experience trouble. Drive failures, explosive decompression, fires, CO or CO2 poisoning, radiation leaks, the list went on for another half hour. With that done and assignments given out in case of emergency, Rosia welcomed them aboard officially, then told them they would be departing the station shortly after final flight plans were filed.
Phil watched the captain float up the ladder in their current zero G state and gave a low whistle. “That’s one tough-looking captain, but I wouldn’t mind spending some time getting to know the little woman.”
“She’s probably a lesbian with a lover in every station, with your luck.” Sherry smirked. “I’d take odds of who’d get to nail her first.” She canted her head a bit, looking toward the ladder. “I’d do her.”
“I’d think she’d like a little more in the romance department than you two horndogs,” Tito chuckled. “With bio-implants that extensive, like that eye of hers, I’d say a big fight went down and someone lost.”
The intercom chimed a general announcement. “Flight plans have been approved through UN Space Control. Leaving dock in five minutes. Please find a seat and buckle up for departure. This is a no-smoking flight. Estimated arrival to Indera Space approximately fourteen days ,with current jump points arranged. Thank you for booking your charter with Merlin’s Ghost. Captain out.”
Chapter 3
It was a full day maneuvering out of the station’s space and winding up for the wormhole travel. Once in transit through the wormhole, the ship’s systems guided the cargo vessel and the secret of the ship’s cleanliness came to light. It took time to recharge the fold system for the next jump, so there was downtime to kill.
“You mean to tell me that to get this charter on such short notice, you promised we’d be cleaning it?” Tito face-palmed.
“You know the drill. Trade-offs have to be made for us to accomplish our mission. We do a little KP and clean the heads, we get to burn some time and make a difference,” Jack said.
“Fine, Jack. Just wished you’d told us beforehand.” Saully stood and headed toward the back of the common area. “I’ll start with the floors and overhead.”
“That’s the spirit!” Jack snarked. “I’ll take the forward head and the life support room this round.” Jack got up, careful to balance Sparky, who wasn’t feeling his best since the jump, and started forward. Sparky hated travel, but he hated being away from Jack even more, so he came along.
“Great! What do I get to do? Polish helmets?” Sherry spat in fake protest as she headed for the cargo bay.
“Wouldn’t be your first time,” Phil joked back, ducking a disposable fork Sherry had thrown at him. “Just sayin’, sweetheart. Just sayin’.” He grabbed some cleaning cloths from inside the common area supply closet. “I got the commons and KP.”
Later the next evening, according to ship’s time, Jack was reading some old, adapted holo-novel by a man named Ian. Wonderful series of fictional space stories, but as with any storytelling, the technologies used were dated by the time a few years had passed. Space travel worked a lot differently than the author had written, but the stories were engaging and imaginative. He looked up as Rosia climbed down the ladder from the small bridge. Artificial gravity was a wonderful thing.
“Evening, Captain. Care for some coffee?” Jack offered.
“I was hoping it would be something stronger. We’ll be two weeks in transitions to Indera.” She sat down across from him and unzipped her suit to the waist. Evidently she didn’t believe in undergarments, as her breasts were greatly exposed.
“Whiskey good enough?” Jack reached into his carry bag and pulled out a bottle filled with dark amber liquid. “I have a virgin twenty-year-old that needs deflowering.” He uncapped the bottle and poured two fingers into a clean mug off the rack and handed it to Rosia. Transitions through wormholes were weird. One hole to a nearby system just a few lightyears away might take an hour, where a hole to a system five light years away might take just a blink of an eye. The quantum math calculations were above his paygrade, anyway. All he knew was the physical aftermath from a jump ranged from no ill effects whatsoever to varying degrees of nausea. Sometimes you got what was called a ‘Dreamscape Hangover’. Not pleasant, and could cripple you for several hours.
“Thanks,” she said as she took the mug and sipped the sweet, smooth liquor. Most whiskey can be bitter or harsh. This was what whiskey was supposed to be. A sipping experience to be enjoyed, not chugged down like rotgut.
“Military pilot?” Jack pointed to the scars on her chest where ports for sensors and modifications had once occupied the flesh. Jack had already read her files. Saully had checked her out beforehand, and nothing came back that wasn’t expected. Ace pilot with an impressive record. Another top-notch officer in a UN military run by political hacks and yahoos, who couldn’t care less about who got shot, just as long as ‘policy’ was followed with no excuses. Hah!
Rosia took a quick glance down. “Fighters.” She sipped again, letting the flavor linger before going down. “I flew with the 33rd Fighter Interceptor Squadron off the light carrier Huron.” She smiled. “The ‘Lawn Darts’,” she told him through her grin. “Got shot up in a brouhaha over a system issue, so now I’m retired.” She paused and her eyes glassed over for a few seconds. “But those things we fought–” she stopped suddenly and changed subjects without actually switching topics. “Some corruption and piracy was going down. They had some shit-hot pilots, but we wiped them from the sky, glassed their base, and stopped the mess,” she lied.
“Do tell. I like good stories about kicking ass and taking names.”
“Not much to tell really.” Rosia sipped some more whiskey and then eased out of her suit top, just tying the sleeves in a loose knot in front at her midsection. Her chest was now bare, and Jack nearly choked on his own drink. She was in shape, and nature hadn’t forgotten a thing. But be that as it may, it wasn’t the first time social mores were loose. It was her ship and she could go buck naked if she wanted to. It made no difference to Jack. But he had to admit the view was spectacular!
“I’ve been all over the quadrant myself. UN 2nd Marines out of Fillion Station, or the 5th Marines based at Lackland Moon Base out near Cerberus Prime for most of it. Served a short stint
aboard the Huron about twenty years back on a few runs through the outer rim, cleaning up small stuff. Loved that ship.”
“Really?” She said it in a way that made it seem they’d served near the same time. “You remember a dipshit citizen name of Pratt?”
Jack paused a moment. “Nope. Can’t say I do,” he lied. Jack didn’t like citizens, nor did he like talking about them. People disappeared or went on long leaves of absence when they came around. Oh, but how he remembered that shit stain. If he ever caught the asshole in private, he’d wipe him from existence for sure. One of his best commanding officers had been disappeared by Citizen Pratt, and the memory left a foul taste in his mouth.
“Too bad.” She finished up the drink. “I was hoping you’d remember him.”
“Why would anyone want to remember a citizen?” Jack poured another two fingers for Rosia. “Is he someone important?”
“Yes.” She accepted the mug back. “No.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe?” She sipped. The whiskey was loosening her inhibitions, and she reached back with a hair band from somewhere and tied up her long hair into a crude bun. “Just testing the waters.”
“Listen, Rosia.” Jack was starting to get the feeling she wasn’t about to mince words, and that could spell trouble. “Talking about citizens is tenuous at best, and suicidal any other time. If there wa –”
“There are no active recording devices on my ship, or in your gear, that I haven’t secured or deactivated, Marine.” She looked him straight in the eye. “If I’d suspected any of you to be citizens or a danger to my ship, I’d have spaced you as soon as we were heading into transition. You’re all ex-military and know each other well enough that I can see you have something planned.”
“Been a while since I was bullshitted by an officer,” Jack replied.
“That obvious?” She hung her head and smiled back. “Truth is, I saw Saully’s network requests for some extensive plans for the station and other facilities at Indera. Not exactly standard fare for someone looking for work. More like covert ops.”
“Captain, I appreciate your inquiry as to our reasons for going. But to be blunt, you’ve been paid well, and it’s none of your business.” Jack set his glass down on the table and refilled it.
“If I tell you some important information, will you listen to me?” She teased.
“Depends.” Jack cocked an eyebrow as he sipped.
“The man in charge at Indera, Mr. Dominic, is a plant by the UN. No big surprise, I know. Indera may be rich as hell in resources, but it’s close enough to some systems of interest that the whole UN is arranging to put forces silently at Indera and a few other places off the beaten path.” She looked into her mug. “The citizen in charge to make it all happen quietly is Pratt.”
“Holy crap…seriously?” This changed the plans a bit. A citizen was too damned curious, of everything and everyone. This could and would get dicey, if they weren’t careful.
“I’ve made about eight trips to the system and others near it in the past six months. I’ve seen him there with my own eye. They’re hiring on exclusively ex-military, militiamen, pilots, anyone who has experience or expertise in technology.” She sighed aloud and placed the empty mug on the table.
Jack pressed the button on the intercom panel built into the table. “Saully?”
“Yeah?”
“How many people are they hiring at Indera that have military or engineering backgrounds, including pilots?”
A few moments passed as Saully did the checks. “Uhm…that’s weird. According to the data, all of them. No straight civilian spacers on the list.”
“Thanks.” Jack cut the comm. “What else, Rosia? What else are you getting at?”
“I want in,” she said flatly. “Balls deep, Jack. So deep that anyone pulling me out would be called the next King of England!”
Jack smirked. “If there was something going on, and I’m not saying there is, why should you be allowed into the party?”
“Revenge. Retribution. Repayment.” She pointed at her face. “Pratt did this.”
“He damaged your face?” Jack winced at the thought.
“That system problem caused my career to end.” She was playing her full hand here. “He ordered a scouting taskforce to be launched as part of a criminal investigation. ‘Corruption and Piracy’, they called it, remember? It was a new system, as yet undeveloped, and no one had tagged it for a survey expedition or even development. We barely had long range scans to work with. Gravimetrics was a joke, and we couldn’t use any active radars or lidars. Passives only, and strict communications protocol the whole way.”
“He sent you in blind?” Jack couldn’t believe Pratt, or anyone competent, would send military assets full on blind into an op without much intel or decent surveys.
“We had a light carrier group there at Shiva. The Huron, with twenty fighters and two Rocker support bombers, a Ticonderoga-class cruiser, one light assault cruiser, a gun frigate, and two picket destroyers. All that high-tech gear, and we never saw their ships on passives.” She got quieter. “Half my squadron was toasted by the time I took command and ordered full actives. The rest of the squadron listened to me, and we were able to destroy a handful of fighters and one small capital ship. Maybe five ships all together.”
“How many craft did you lose?” He refilled her mug.
“Too many. When we returned all shot to hell, Pratt was furious. He ordered us to strict silence about what we’d seen and heard.” Her faced hardened into loathing. “Fuck him!” She closed her eyes, softened a bit, then continued. “I lost twenty good men and women in my group, Jack. That’s some ten state-of-the-art attack craft.” She took a long swallow and sat there, silently wiping a few tears from her eye. “We lost both pickets and the light assault cruiser less than three minutes into the fight, so add five hundred or so to the total. As soon as we were emergency docked with the Huron after the battle, we all got the hell out. The Ticonderoga was damaged heavily and made it in just behind us as we folded, but the gun frigate was leaking radiation from her engines, so she never came out on the other side of the hole.” Rosia was silent for a few seconds. “I lied about glassing their base.”
“Ya think?” Jack chuckled and handed her a napkin, then sat back a bit. Sparky lay on the floor, ignoring everyone of course. “Sorry, I’ve lost quite a few men in battle myself. But that had to be hard as hell.”
“They kicked our asses and sent us packing,” she admitted. “I want Pratt dead. Even if I have to ram Merlin into him at full thrust.” The tenor of her voice spoke volumes.
Jack knew she meant it. “So many people had to be in the know. What happened to them?”
Rosia looked up into his eyes. “He killed them.”
Just like that, Jack thought. Eliminated like yesterday’s waste.
“Radiation poisonings. Fold accidents. Suicides. Name your murder, he did it.” Rosia paused and looked up at the overhead, shrugged her shoulders, then stared back into her mug. “There’s only a handful of us left.” She was starting to slur. Must be the whiskey. “The only way I’ve stayed alive this long is moving.”
“I have no words to describe that sick fuck, but I do know of him,” Jack admitted.
“So you lied to me too?” She giggled this time.
“Yes, I did and for good reason. Our commander had a visit from him. I think he’d served on a Ticonderoga cruiser, and I’m guessing it was probably the one that was part of your attack group.” Jack took a sip and continued, “He was relieved of command and never returned.” Jack looked deep into his own glass this time. “He also didn’t leave the ship alive.”
“How d’ya know?” Rosia asked.
“A rating told us what had happened. He’d been sneaking a quickie with a female cook in a storage locker. It’s off one of the docking bays.” Jack put his glass back on the table.
Rosia didn’t have to be told what had happened. They both knew the commander had been spaced. Jack poured her fourth s
et of two fingers and poured himself a third. He lifted his glass, and she lifted her mug in a silent toast. They downed their drinks.
“Meet with us in the morning and we’ll…sort things out.” He refilled the drinks, and the bottle was looking kind of low. “Think we’ll kill this virgin yet.”
“Hope so, Marine. Or you may hav’ta pour me inna ma bunk.” She was smiling now and definitely slurring more.
The hatch opened suddenly, and Phil stepped through. “Dayum!” he exclaimed. “Can anyone get in on this strip poker game? How far are you ahead, Jack?” He plopped down across from Jack and Rosia.
Rosia just shook her head and smiled. “I’m ahead by two boobs.” She shimmied her upper torso, and the girls shook back and forth with the action. “Costsa thousand creds to get inna game, but seeing as you haven’t cleaned’ta air scrubbers ‘day…” She pointed at the schedule on the board.
“Aw, shit.” Phil got back up and went in search of the supplies to clean the air scrubbing equipment. He glanced back with a wave and a smile as he closed and secured the hatch.
“So enthusiastic he almost forgot we needed to breathe,” Jack quipped.
Chapter 4
Merlin’s Ghost, In Transit to Indera System, Common Area, 0705 hrs
The next day, the rest of the team was informed of the new addition to the group. Things were worked out and plans updated. The intel Rosia brought into the meeting of minds was invaluable. As modern as some of the charts and station plans were, they were woefully out of spec. The interior systems for Indera Prime Station were way more advanced than they’d expected. The plans were dynamic at this point, and Saully was really meshing with Rosia on the data.
The gear wasn’t going to be where they’d thought it was going to be. The station had a separate facility away from the main docks, a giant set of armored modules floating free in sync orbit with the station. This was going to get complicated. Rosia knew a way to get the gear, but she had to make up some orders for pickup before they could dock with the main station. Inspections and verifications? That was going to be tough to get around. Seems the UN was being overly cautious. Some things were going on that even raised the hackles on Jack’s neck.