Axxa continued. “The ship is named the “Trellixan, after a battle from an old conflict. The previous captain was Traxxus, who I knew of. He was under Xylan the Sol System commander. This ship, however—it is unknown to me. A new design from the homeworld’s shipyard.” He looked around with respect. “Very advanced. The Prime is noted as the owner and kept its existence secret for some reason.” He looked at Mygdarian. “Where was it recovered?”
Mygdarian pointed to Creal. “His crew discovered it.”
Harper stepped into the middle of the conversation. “This ship belongs to me!”
Creal the Hauler finally had something to say. “No, Harper, the find was mine. And Barstow’s.”
Harper paced back and forth, trying to find someone to intimidate. He produced a comm unit. “Batazar. Batazar!”
Axxa looked down at him. “The ship is blocking all unauthorized transmissions.” He tapped a control on a station near him. “Severing the dock with Harper’s vessel.”
Harper’s face was turning purple with rage, but Halloran spoke up. “Okay, everyone. Next step is to recover my crew. Mister…Creal, please take your boss and lock him up. Axxa, where is the brig on a Prax ship?”
“Hmm, the Prax do not understand this concept.”
“Prison cell? For isolating troublemakers.”
The Prax shrugged. “It was space for them.”
“Okay, then. Just lock him somewhere he can’t cause trouble for now.” Halloran tapped Djembe. “Get Axxa to brief you on the piloting systems, whatever.”
Harper had had enough. “What is going on here?”
“We’re stealing Creal’s ship, Mr. Harper. We’re renegades after all, right?”
Chapter 49
Aboard Valor
Grisa, the sensor tech on duty over the night watch, sat up from his attitude of boredom. Something was getting the computer’s attention.
He straightened, tugging on his gray uniform as he frowned and flicked on the active scan. He’d just completed a scan before 0100—part of the hourly schedule. The ship was equipped with a wide variety of proximity sensors for drive residue, transmissions of any sort, metallic presences and others. But every hour the protocol was to active-scan to the edges of the ship’s capabilities, which usually meant the edge of the planetary plane including moons and satellites, all of which were meticulously cataloged and noted in Fleet space charts.
Grisa tapped the blinking red notification icon, stretching a bit as he did so. He read the text of the notification.
With a gasp, he coughed to clear his throat and punched the comm unit next to his station. “Captain to the bridge!”
Five minutes later, Heres stood over the man’s station reading the same notification. “Can you give me exact coordinates?”
“Sir, it seems to originate on the far side of the moon Prila.” Prila was one of the natural moons of Agra. About half the size of the mining planet, Prila was a known location of several Hauler bases.
“Why would it be there? Are they dealing with the Haulers somehow?” Heres pondered as he turned back to his chair. “Is the signature moving?”
“No, sir. Computer is still attempting to isolate the sig and categorize the Prax vessel.”
Heres sat down. “That’s unusual. Very unusual.”
“Agreed, sir. We should have sigs on any known Praxxan ship.”
“So it ID’d the signature as Praxxan in origin, but can’t place the vessel hull.” He tapped his comm unit. “Navs, get up here. We may need to debark shortly. Oh, and stop at the tube and recall the shore party on your way.” He closed the channel and looked up at Grisa. “Location of Captain Kendra?”
“In the cabin you lent her, sir.”
“Any ID on the mystery ship yet?”
“No sir, the computer’s still chewing on it.”
“Very irregular. Yet, I love a challenge.” He jumped up and began pacing. “Why did they fire up now, and where did they come from?”
“Grisa looked up. “Sir, the computer just came back with ‘hull class unknown. Drive signature consistent with that of a destroyer-class Praxxan warship.”
Heres paused. “Well, at least they’re not twice our size. Probably comparable weaponry. But no ID?” He waved at Renno as she bounded out of the bridge entry. “Just in time, Navs. We’re got a new mystery to solve.”
“So much for the disappearing green crew mystery?” Renno took her station, the night crew tech leaping out of the way deferentially.
“For the moment. Go figure—Agra security can manage to lose thirty-odd humans plus a Prax. But now…” He stepped up behind her and tapped her shoulder, pointing at the notifications readout. “We conveniently have a new, unknown Prax warship powering up on the other side of the moon out there. Right in the middle of the Hauler territory.”
Renno glanced up at Heres. “You think there’s a connection?”
“Let’s go and see if there is.”
Aboard Trellixan
“Tomalloran, take a look at this.”
Halloran walked over to where Axxa was studying a display on the Captain’s station. “What?” Despire the Prax’s willingness to go along with the ruse to gain control of the unknown Prax warship, he still didn’t trust the alien.
“I am reviewing the ship’s log. Watch.”
The small screen on the station was playing a scene from the very bridge they sat on. It was fully lit and several Prax crew members were busy at their stations. Out of reflex, Halloran glanced up at the stations before him, now empty.
“This is date-stamped as being shortly after the time they initiated their last jump, which was in a system I don’t recognize at first look.”
The crew stayed at their stations, now joined by another Prax who paced back and forth behind them before marching toward the camera and sitting at the very station they watched at. So, the Captain.
“That’s Traxxus,” observed Axxa.
“You knew him.”
“He was a fierce warrior. We served together in the Mensa Wars for a period.”
Despite his distrust of Axxa, Halloran was interested. “Mensa Wars?”
Axxa didn’t look at him. “Some time soon, I would be happy to tell you of these conquests. But look,” he pointed at the screen.
The Prax in the forward right station had turned and was gesturing to Traxxus. Within moments, the Captain gave an order to the crewmember and jumped up, heading offscreen. A few more minutes passed, played forward by Axxa, and he pointed to the numerals rolling cross the bottom. “This data indicates that the ship was in jumpspace, all systems nominal.”
Then something dramatic happened.
The crew member on the far edge of the screen stood, swaying and grabbing at its station for support. Just as quickly, it collapsed on the deck in what appeared to be its own vomit. As Halloran and Axxa watched with intensity, the same fate befell the other two crew in sight, both of those clinging to each other and attempting to use the console instruments before collapsing.
Axxa’s voice was fragile. “They perished before they could change the Trellixan’s situation.”
Halloran felt the other’s unhappiness at seeing his fellow soldiers die so suddenly and completely. Good. “So no one was able to stop the jump, even if they could.”
Axxa turned off the video feed. “What sort of attack could disable an entire crew that quickly?” Now he did turn towards the human, letting Halloran see his unhappy face.
“Hey Tomalloran,” called Djembe from the pilot’s station where he’d been dozing. “Just got a ping from an incoming shuttle from Agra. Looks like your people are inbound.”
“Thank you. It’s Halloran. Captain Halloran.” Frustration.
“Tomalloran, there is something else.” Axxa was waiting patiently.
“Yes, what?” Halloran had to work to keep the exasperation out of his voice.
“The destination coordinates. I pulled them from the jump drive.”
“Okay.”
>
“The ship came out of jump just outside of this system.”
“Didn’t that hauler pirate guy say he found the ship floating somewhere?”
“Correct. It was exactly where the drive was told to drop it.”
Halloran straightened up. “I think I see what you mean. Why was it jumping into this system—a new-tech warship—when it should’ve been in battle around Earth?”
Axxa nodded. “Or several other sites of ongoing battle in our Conquest.”
“Can you figure out where they were planning to go?”
“I can research the Captain’s logs and orders, if they exist.”
Halloran exhaled. “Do it. I’m going to go down and meet our returning heroes.” He looked at Djembe. “How are you coming with the navigational?”
The pilot yawned. “Don’t understand most of the stuff—it’s all in Prax, of course. Axxa here will need to translate.”
“Don’t take too long.”
At the airlock Halloran was glad to welcome Captain Antonov aboard. Immediately behind him was Deacon, practically bouncing with anger. “Where is Axxa?” He demanded the moment he caught sight of Halloran.
Antonov shrugged. “He’s been like this the whole time. Hummel had to literally hold him down several times.”
Halloran shook the Russian’s hand. “Any trouble getting here?” As the crew filed past, chatting and looking around, he patted backs and shook hands.
“No,” Antonov responded across the crowd. “The security guys came by once but Bregor paid them off. Some things never change, it seems.”
“You get a look at the ship as you came in?”
Petty Officer Carruthers was walking past. She stopped at the question. “Sir, this ship is flat-out badass looking. We could see the whole hull as we pulled up.” She glanced at Antonov. “Sorry, sir.”
Antonov shook his head. “No trouble. Actually, those are my sentiments exactly.” He grinned at Halloran. “Badass. Such excellent American terms.”
Halloran grabbed Carruthers’ shoulder in recognition. “Well, Gail, we’re still trying to figure out how to fly it.”
Carruthers became serious, facing Halloran. “Sir, let me help.” She tugged her cap down tighter as she said it.
“Um, hmm…”
Carruthers persisted. “Come on, sir. We’ve been doin’ a whole lot of nothing ever since Pearl. Being chased all over, herded like cattle, getting shot at.” He saw the sudden dampness in her eyes. “Sir, Perez was one of my best friends. I want back in.”
Halloran nodded softly, pursing his lips. Then he looked up at Antonov with a look of new inspiration.
“What?”
Halloran looked down at Carruthers. “Gail, you may just get your shot. Wait for my word.” He waved her on.
Antonov stepped through the line and got close to Halloran. “What was that about?”
Reyes came out of the shuttle. “All present and accounted for, sir. And it’s good to see you again.”
Halloran shook the Master Chief’s hand, then addressed them both. “Get the crew squared away in a reasonable space, then find your way to the bridge.”
“Looking forward to it, sir.” Reyes looked around and sniffed the atmosphere. “Definitely not ramen, fish and feet,” he observed, referring to the colloquial term for the smell aboard a sub. “You getting the lay of the land on this boat?”
Halloran let a grin out. “Just get up to the bridge.”
Agra Colony Spaceport
“Separation complete; moving away from the spaceport connection.”
Heres sat back in his chair. “Head for the coordinates you’re getting for this mystery ship. Full shields; all weapons hot. Be ready with the DEW in case we need to blind them quickly.”
Renno spoke up. “That shuttle we were tracking just went around the far side of the moon.”
“Yes, something’s going on. Half-speed, proceed with caution.” He tapped his comm unit. “Get Captain Kendra out of bed and have her come to the bridge.”
Renno looked back. “Kendra? What good is she?”
Heres smiled. “She’s our new negotiator. A perfect, human hero-type.”
Aboard Trellixan
Halloran leaned casually against the bulkhead as the key people filed in; Axxa, Mygdarian, Creal, Bregor, Antonov, Hummel, Reyes and Djembe. Deacon was finally allowed in after he complained loudly in the passageway outside.
When everyone had been assembled, Halloran straightened. “Alright, gentlemen, I’ll get right to the point. I’ve been thinking about this ship.” He looked around. “By rights it belongs to the Praxxan fleet. But,” he held up a hand to the Haulers who began to protest, “it was found a derelict, I understand. I want to say that I am profoundly thankful for each of you. As I promised back on the colony to Mygdarian, I fully intend to get a generous payment secured from the human Fleet for the recovery of this vessel. Creal, I—and my entire crew—owe you a great debt.”
The Hauler actually seemed to redden under the stares of those assembled.
“But, it occurs to me. The Prax took my ship,” he looked directly at Axxa, “and the lives of many of my crew—people who were close to me.”
Axxa met his stare calmly. Mygdarian visibly tensed at the tension between the two and glanced back and forth from face to face.
“Here, here,” added Chief Reyes softly, face turned down toward the table.
Halloran looked around again. “Our original goal was to turn this vessel over to the Fleet and use it as a bargaining chip to return to Earth so we could rescue my stranded crew and officers. But,” he paused and looked down at the floor.
Antonov prompted, “But?”
Halloran looked up. “But, I intend to confiscate this vessel and use it myself to return and help take the fight to the Prime and all who destroyed our lives. Not to mention,” he glanced around at the humans with emphasis, “that they conquered Earth. The Fleet needs all the help it can get.”
The silence was seemingly hours in length. Finally, Reyes looked up. “I like it, sir.”
Several simultaneous voices were raised in protest. Halloran quieted the group with a raised hand. He looked at the Haulers. “I want to put you ashore at any location you choose. All I can do at this point is give you my word that I will guarantee your payment for this vessel—and the service each of you rendered us by taking the personal risks you did.” To Axxa and Deacon he said, “I can use Axxa’s help to get up to speed on this ship’s capabilities. What was the crew complement?”
Mygdarian spoke up. “We removed fifty-one bodies.”
“Reyes?”
The Chief answered immediately. “Axxa and twenty-six souls including Captain Antonov here.” He looked over at Djembe and Deacon. “That leaves them.”
Halloran watched the pilot. “How about it, Djembe? Want back into the war?”
Djembe was noncommittal, moving his shoulders and laying his elbows on the table. “I want to get back to the Imani. After that, it’ll depend on the fee.”
Deacon, for once, had nothing to say.
Axxa looked up at Halloran. Halloran noticed that Axxa and Mygdarian were sitting together. “This ship will be able to function on part automation. But it is advanced, even for my knowledge.”
Halloran nodded. “Well that’s it, then. Any questions?”
Creal stepped forward. “We want our payment. But I’d be a fool not to see that you’re a man who can’t be crossed easily.”
“Yes, that reminds me. What should we do with Mr. Harper?”
Mygdarian stood up. “I will return him to his ship.”
Halloran pursed his lips. “Wouldn’t that put you in a bind? I doubt he will treat you well, after your part in this.”
Creal stood next to the Prax hauler. “We will deal with Harper. But, it would best if you could secure extra payment for him.” Halloran caught the short grin on the bald man’s face.
“Take the shuttle docked with us, then.”
Mygdarian
stepped around the table, extending an arm in some unknown gesture. Instead, Halloran embraced the thick alien and pulled back, palms upraised.
“You learn quickly.” But the Prax was almost smiling.
“You need to, around here.” Halloran returned the smile.
“Call me Myg, Tomalloran.”
“Call me Tom, Myg—please.”
“Tum.”
Halloran caught Reyes’ stifled laugh. “Sure.”
A beeping sound in the background of the verbal exchange got Axxa’s attention. He opened a screen on the table and briefly studied it. “Tomalloran, sensors are detecting a human warship in proximity.”
“Let’s break this up, gentlemen. Back to the bridge.” He pulled Myg to the side. “Get away now if you can.”
“We will move quickly.”
“Good, if not you’ll get a front row seat for whatever’s coming.”
“Understood.”
Axxa was there, grasping the other Prax’s hand. “Until honor shines on us next.”
Myg dipped his head. “Any service to your family is indeed an honor. I don’t regret a moment of it.”
Halloran interrupted. “Who is Axxa’s family?”
Myg began to say something but Axxa spoke over him. “Tomalloran, I should also tell you that I discovered the destination coordinates for this ship’s flight. It was within this system at the far end.”
“So you’re saying that the Prax have something going on nearby that is probably hostile in intent.”
Myg took his leave as Reyes stopped by them. “Sir, is now a good time to assemble our bridge crew?”
“Chief, let’s get started.”
Chapter 50
The Valor slowed as it approached the moon Prila. Heres was back to pacing the bridge. “Still no movement from the other ship?”
“No, sir. Stationary. Our weapons are manned and charged. Shields operational.”
He nodded at the sensor tech. “I’d rather not fly directly into projectile range without any sign of their intentions.”
War Without Honor (Halloran's War Series Book 1) Page 32