Shadowplay: Book One of the Starcrown Chronicles

by Jon Gerrard

  Chapter Nine

  I tried to roll over to answer the intercom but there was an arm across my chest. Picking up the limp limb I kissed its palm. Alex ‘mmmmed’ and rolled away, taking her arm with her. I sat up and glanced at the clock. Oh-three-hundred. I started to reach for the comm but got distracted by the soft curves rising in the bed next to me. Alex was laying on her side with her back to me. Her hair (she had let it grow for me) was fanned out behind her, leaving the nape of her neck exposed. The familiar warm tingling bloomed in my stomach as I inhaled the scent of her hair. At this moment everything was perfect in my world.

  The intercom buzzed again.

  Ignoring the call I bent over and started kissing her neck. Her skin was soft and warm where my lips touched. She giggled. Then she placed her palm in my face and pushed me away.

  “You’d better answer that,” she said.

  “Who says it’s for me?”

  “It’s three in the morning. They’re looking for the captain.”

  I snuggled down next to her and slid my hands around her waist. “Let’s pretend we’re not here.”

  She rolled over, planted a big kiss on my mouth and got up from the bed. “Answer the call,” she said, heading for the ‘fresher.

  I watched her swaying hips as she padded across the room. Girls move so much more interestingly than men. (Is ‘interestingly’ even a word?) I reached for the comm panel above the headboard. It was the bridge.

  “This is the Captain,” I said, “I’m going to need an armed squad in my quarters right away. My security officer is trying to mutiny.”

  “Sorry to hear that, Captain,” Chris’ voice answered. “Do you want them in full riot gear or just standard sidearms?”

  “Well, maybe I’ll let it go for now. A good, solid spanking should whip her into shape.”

  “You wouldn’t dare!” came from the refresher.

  “What’s up, Chris?” I asked, stifling a chuckle.

  “Sorry to wake you, but we’re getting a distress call from a nearby ship. They claim they were attacked by a pirate who came out of nowhere. They fought it off but took heavy damage. They say their reactor shielding is ruptured. And Cordass, their ID beacon says they’re Gilead Fleet.”

  Out here? Of course, ID beacons could be faked. Our own ship carried a beacon that identified us as being registered out of New Bahama. But it wouldn’t make any sense for someone to claim to be Fleet if they weren’t.

  “How far away is she?”

  “Just under fifteen minutes at flank.”

  “Okay, Chris, set course for her. Have the full first watch report to duty stations and put a rescue team on standby. I also want to go weapons hot.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “Expecting trouble?” Alex asked, leaning against the ‘fresher door frame.

  “Always. Somebody took on a Gilead Fleet ship and gave it a bloody nose.”

  “What’s a Fleet ship doing way out here?”

  “I don’t know, but we’re going to find out. Their reactor shielding is ruptured. I have a feeling we’re going to be having guests.”

  I swung my feet to the deck and brought up the cabin lights. The captain’s cabin was spacious with a rather large bed. The previous owner, Mercurio Cross, had installed the oversized bed and decorated the room in his own grotesquely flamboyant style. I had toned the space down considerably over the past two and a half years, changing virtually everything except for the bed—I liked all the room it gave us to roll around in on those nights when Alex stayed with me, which was most of the time these days.

  Pushing myself to my feet I headed to the ‘fresher. Alex moved aside as I approached but I snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her against me. The warmth of her body where it touched mine made my skin tingle. I kept the environmental system in my cabin set at a balmy 25 degrees C so we hardly ever slept with clothes on. The palm of my hand fit comfortably against the familiar curve of her cheek as I stroked her face. She smiled and covered my hand with hers.

  “We should get dressed,” she said. When I didn’t move right away she pecked me lightly on the cheek and wiggled out of my arms. “Get dressed,” she called over her shoulder as she started pulling on her uniform.

  Ducking into the ‘fresher I threw some water on my face and paused to stare at myself in the mirror. The face I had grown accustomed to over the past few years stared back at me. My face, I told myself. After all of this time the face in the mirror was still a stranger to me and I still couldn’t remember anything about my past before the moment I woke up on that prison transport.

  I found myself thinking about my relationship with Alex. Was it me not remembering who I was that was the invisible wall between us? Or was it something else? I relied on her for so much. She was my right arm, my inspiration. I trusted her with my life and I would give my life to protect her. Yet some deep instinct kept me from sharing this one thing with her--the fact that I had an empty hole where my memory should be. Did she suspect that I was keeping some secret from her? She had an uncanny perception about people and I often felt like she knew what was on my mind before I did. Was that why she wouldn’t commit herself to me?

  A movement in the mirror caught my eye and I watched as she bent to adjust one boot. I remembered the one and only time I had proposed to her. It was a little over a year ago, just after we had completed the final repairs and upgrades to the ship following a very successful run. The mood aboard ship had been festive. We had cleared a nice profit and had landed on Paradisio in the New Bahama star cluster for a couple of week’s shore leave to celebrate.

  It was warm in the open market near the main spaceport. The blue-white sun was high overhead as we wandered among the various stalls looking for nothing in particular. She was so beautiful with the sun shining on her hair which was just starting to reach her shoulders. She was laughing as she chatted about something I wasn’t really paying attention to and it seemed like the perfect moment. Without thinking about it I acted on impulse. I spun her toward me and pressed my lips against hers in a long, deep kiss. I could tell I had caught her by surprise but she responded instantly, kissing me back fiercely and molding her body against mine.

  “Marry me!” I said when we finally broke for air.

  For the briefest moment there had been a softness in her eyes that I had never seen before. In that instant I knew she was going to say yes.

  Then the look was gone. She took my hands and held my eyes with hers. The smile she put on seemed forced.

  “You know we’re not the type of people who get married,” she said. “We talked about this ... before. You remember.” That was the problem. I couldn’t remember. “We both agreed, a long time ago, not to complicate things. I’m yours for as long as you want me. You know that. I’ll always be here for you.”

  She squeezed my hands briefly and turned away before I could say anything. But before she did I saw the way her eyes were shining. I pretended not to notice her quickly wiping her eyes when she thought I wasn’t looking.

  Alex straightened with her other boot in her hand and glanced back over her shoulder at me, her eyebrows arching up in a questioning look.

  “Just taking a moment to admire the scenery,” I said, leering at her butt.

  She pursed her lips in a mocking scold.

  “You better get your mind back on business.”

  “Oh, I mean business,” I said, jauntily tossing my towel aside.

  I moved to the closet and began pulling on my own uniform. I’d always been happy with my decision to insist on duty uniforms. Many independent ships didn’t bother with them, but I found they gave us a sense of unity and pride. I believed in it so much that I outfitted the crew originally out of my own share of the profits from our first shipment. Once I saw how the crew carried themselves a little taller when they were in uniform I knew that I was right.

  Our uniform was a simple jumpsuit with ou
r ship’s patch on the right shoulder, something similar to what any merchant crew might wear. Crew wore a plain uniform while officers had ship symbol tabs on the collars. The only difference between my uniform and those of the other officers were the four captain rings on my sleeves. I had decided to do away with shoulder boards or any other rank insignia. We weren’t a military ship and I wanted to keep things simple.

  Alex and I finished dressing in a few minutes and headed to the bridge. She was all business now, with her hair done up into a tight, efficient bun on the back of her head.

  “Having Fleet personnel aboard could be awkward,” Alex said as we made our way up the stairwell to the command deck.

  “We’ll burn that bridge when we get to it,” I said. I knew what she meant. The ship was completely different from when we had first taken it from the pirates. Every surface gleamed and every system was properly repaired and operating at peak efficiency. We had made some minor superficial changes–a new color scheme, more comfortable bridge seating, and the like. But even without any Gilead military identification anywhere aboard, the ship practically screamed Fleet. They were bound to ask questions.

  We arrived at the bridge quickly—the captain’s quarters were located on A deck, near the main stairwell. As we entered I saw that Bobby was already at the helm, his hoverboard propped against the side of the console. Sometimes I wondered if he ever slept. He seemed to be constantly boarding through the corridors whenever he wasn’t on duty. Yet there was no denying his talent as a pilot. He could be a little wild at the helm sometimes, but Bobby could make this ship do things I didn’t think were even possible.

  The only other person there was Chris, who had been the watch officer on duty. Since we had been at full stop for more than two days now there was no need for more than one person on the bridge to keep an eye on things. Chris stood up from the command chair as we entered.

  “Quiet shift?” I asked as I sat down and checked the command board.

  “Until we picked up that call,” Chris said. He went to the weapons console and punched in the combination to unlock it. Normally the weapons station was not manned. We usually traveled with the defense systems off-line and the control board locked down. Since we carried quite a punch I didn’t want any accidents. This time however I had a feeling that we might need to defend ourselves—and I always listen to my feelings. As Chris powered up the weapons systems, alert lights flashed on throughout the ship to let the crew know that our defensive status had changed.

  While Chris brought our weapons on-line, Alex moved to the security station. From her post she could monitor all internal and external sensors.

  “I’m not reading anyone in the area except for the fleet ship ahead,” Alex said. “They’re giving off a lot of radiation. Thermal signature is high and I’m reading a lot of ionization on their hull. It certainly looks like they were in a fight.” She made a few adjustments as she studied her board. “But if they were attacked, where’s the other ship?”

  “That’s what I’d like to know,” I said. “Even at this range we should be able to see anything with enough teeth to hurt a Fleet ship. Could it be hiding behind something? They did say the attacker seemed to come out of nowhere.”

  “There’s nothing around for a dozen light years,” Alex reminded me. Our client had picked this location precisely because it was so isolated. We wouldn’t normally be out here ourselves if we weren’t waiting for him.

  I started drumming absently on my chair arm with my fingers. The lack of a second ship was bothering me. I did a quick check of our fuel. We had a forty-seven percent reserve.

  “Put up the stealth system,” I said to Chris. I wanted to look the scene over before I committed our ship to anything and the stealth system would allow us to slip into the area undetected. The only down side to the system was that it required a hideous amount of energy to run. If we were to stay in stealth mode around the clock we could deplete our fuel in a matter of days. But we had enough reserve to take this short run without any problems.

  Mark walked onto the bridge at that point and relieved Chris at the defense system console. A few moments later Patty Ruttle, the last of the first shift officers, appeared and hurried over to the comm board. Communications was another station that wasn’t usually manned during a normal duty shift.

  “Sorry, Captain,” she said as she settled at her station.

  “Its okay, Patty, we all just got here ourselves. By the way, how’s Jeremy? I hope all this excitement didn’t wake him up.” Patty had the distinction of being mother to the first (and so far the only) child born aboard ship–fifteen month old Jeremy Carl Ruttle. Patty never said who the father was. It was her business and everyone respected her wishes. But little Jeremy never lacked for attention. He was like the ship’s mascot. The entire crew doted on him.

  “He was up anyway,” Patty said. “I swear that boy doesn’t stop for a minute. Momma said she’d watch him for me.”

  I chuckled. “That’s good. I’m afraid I’m going to be keeping his mother busy for a little while. I need you to listen for any comm chatter in the area. As far as we know, there’s only us and a single ship in distress ahead. I need to know if you pick up anything that might mean there’s another ship out there.”

  “Is there a problem?” Patty asked.

  “Somebody may have attacked that ship. If they’re still around I want to know about it before they decide that we’re worth a try, too.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said, becoming very serious as she settled her headset in place.

  Patty was a natural with the comm system. She had an ear that could pick out a signal in a storm of static. If someone were out there transmitting, she would hear it.

  With all of the duty stations now manned, Chris moved to his post at the executive officer station. On his board he could monitor all bridge stations as well as the engines and environmental systems. His job was to keep an overview on all systems so I could concentrate on running the ship. As he settled into place I admired the smooth efficiency with which my people worked. We may not be Fleet, but I would put our crew up against any other in space.

  It wasn’t long before we had the Fleet ship in visual range. We were all struck silent by what we saw. The ship on our screen was horribly damaged. There was an ugly hull breach in the engineering section and numerous score marks along its battered hull. Someone had inflicted some pretty serious damage. But whoever had attacked them was gone. The comm channels remained clear and Alex couldn’t detect anyone else in the area.

  “I’m reading it as a patrol/reconnaissance class ship, Captain,” Alex said, breaking the silence. “About half our length. She’s spewing lethal levels of radiation from that hole in her hull. If we’re going to approach we should do it from the other side.”

  Whatever had happened, this was a ship in serious trouble. “Deactivate the stealth system,” I said to Mark. “Patty, see if you can raise them.”

  She opened the transmitter. “This is the Prometheus to unidentified Gilead Fleet ship, respond please.”

  It took several long moments before we finally got a static filled reply, voice only. “This ... Captain Saha. Thanks for ans... our SOS. Our boards must be completely fried. We didn’t even know ... there until you signaled.”

  “We can see that you’ve taken a lot of damage,” I answered. “How can we help?”

  “I’m afraid we’ve had it. Can ...ake my crew aboard your ship?”

  “Certainly, Captain. Can you EVA? Your ship is tumbling end over end and has a slow rotation along the central axis. Matching with you isn’t possible.”

  Even over the static filled comm I could hear the frustration in his voice. “I suppose we’ll have to. ... got several injured crew who are ... need help getting suited up, but we’ll manage.”

  “Excuse me, Captain,” Bobby said. “I can mate us.”

  I looked up at the out of
control ship on the main screen. Matching the tumbling I could see, but the only way to match that rotation along its axis would be to keep our ship moving in a spiral trajectory around the other ship while maintaining distance and speed precisely. Bobby was good, but I’d never heard of anyone even attempting anything like this before.

  “Are you sure?” I asked.

  “Positive. I’ll just have to keep playing with the attitude control thrusters. We’ll burn a lot of reaction fuel, but I can keep us mated long enough for them to get out.”

  I turned back to the comm. “Captain, stand by. We’re going to try to mate with your main hatch.”

  “But from what ...scribed, that’s impossible.”

  “You don’t know my pilot. We won’t be able to stay mated for long so I suggest that you have your crew standing by.”

  “Very well, Captain. And, thanks.”

  I turned back to Bobby. “Okay, you’re on.”

  It was fascinating to watch Bobby at the helm. It was like the ship was an extension of him. Firing the thrusters he brought us around the crippled Fleet vessel until we were away from the rent in the hull that was spewing so much deadly radiation. He brought us right in to docking distance and quickly matched us to the other ship’s velocity so that it seemed to be stationary relative to our position, but spinning. Once our velocities were matched he started us in a slow end over end tumble as well. When he was done it was the stars that seemed to be revolving as our two ships stood still. Now was the tricky part. Although our ships were now motionless relative to each other, there was still the rotation of the other ship along its long axis that had to be cancelled out.

  On the main screen the Fleet ship slowly rotated, bringing its main hatch into view. As their hatch came into alignment with ours Bobby began the tricky job of sending us in a slow spiral around the other ship. Incredibly, after a few moments the other ship appeared to come to a dead stop as Bobby matched their motion. He double checked his instruments as he kept his hands on the controls. He would have to keep firing bursts from our thrusters every few seconds to keep us in this position relative to the other ship, something he could only do manually.

  “Okay, that’s got it,” Bobby said, keeping his attention focused on his console. “Extend the docking sleeve.”

  As Chris extended the sleeve I stood up. “I’m going down to the gangway hatch. Tell Doc we’ve got some injured people coming aboard. And let me know if you detect any other ships in the area. We’re a fat, sitting duck as long as our ships are mated.”

  Alex fell in beside me as I left the bridge. I noticed that she had armed herself with a needler. It was a standard shipboard weapon–effective against people but unlike a blaster it wouldn’t penetrate the hull.

  “Expecting trouble?” I asked.

  “Always,” she said as she checked her clip. “I just think it’s prudent to have your security officer with you whenever a strange crew is coming aboard.”

  We hurried down two decks and strode quickly to the main airlock. Doc and the rescue team were already there, two of them in hazmat suits, along with a pair of security guards Alex had called for. Ricky, Alex’s second in charge of security, nodded to us as we approached.

  “Pressure’s just coming up in the sleeve,” Ricky said. He turned back to the airlock controls and we waited. A moment later the panel beeped to tell us that standard atmospheric pressure had been established. Ricky and the other guard took up positions on either side of the hatch as it opened. The rescue team jogged into the sleeve and hammered on the other ship’s hatch. A moment later the hatch opened and the Fleet crew stumbled out along with a cloud of smoke. Several were being helped to walk by their crewmates. The captain was last, coughing as he half dragged a crewman with severe burns all down his left side. Altogether there were twenty three survivors, less than half the complement that should be aboard a ship of that size.

  Doc immediately started tending to the survivors sprawling in the corridor. The worst cases he directed the rescue team to bring straight to the infirmary.

  “Is that everyone?” I asked the captain. He was coughing so badly that he couldn’t answer. I turned to the crewmen in hazmat suits and started to wave them onto the other ship to search when Captain Saha grabbed my arm.

  “Don’t bother,” he rasped between coughs. “We already did a sweep. There’s no one left ... alive.”

  “I understand. I’m sorry.”

  I had Ricky close the hatch. Bobby couldn’t keep us in position forever. As soon as we were secured and had detached the sleeve from the other ship’s hull I called the bridge and told him to move us away.

  One of the rescue team was giving oxygen to the Fleet captain who was starting to breathe easier. He took a few last breaths then pushed the mask away and turned to me.

  “Captain Arun Saha of the GSS Pathfinder requesting permission to come aboard.”

  “We’re not that formal around here, Captain,” I said. “You and your men are welcome. I’m Cordass Pell, and this is my security officer, Alex Feign. Welcome aboard the Prometheus. It’s going to be a little crowded but I think we can find places for you and your people.”

  “I’m grateful you were able to get us off. We couldn’t have held out much longer. I’d also like to shake your helm officer’s hand. Not many pilots could have done what he did.”

  Doc came over just then. “Excuse me, Captain, but I’ve got to get back to the infirmary. Most of the crew is okay except for some minor bruising and smoke inhalation, but there are a few with severe burns and one broken leg that I need to see to.”

  “Do what you can for them, Doc,” I said as he turned away. I could tell by the look on Captain Saha’s face that he was worried about his people. “He’s an excellent doctor and we’ve got a fully equipped infirmary. Your crew is in good hands.”

  “Thank you again, Captain. I wonder if I could impose on you one more time. I need to report to my superiors.”

  “Of course, we’ll take you to the bridge.”

  I told Ricky to find beds for the rest of the rescued crew then Alex and I led the way to the bridge. As we were turning away I noticed one of Saha’s men eyeing Alex. I couldn’t blame him, her uniform did fit well in all the right places.

  “So, Captain, what was your ship doing way out here in the middle of nowhere?” I asked.

  “Sorry, I can’t talk about our mission,” Saha answered. I had expected something like that. But as he spoke I noticed his hand pressing against his leg as if he were checking for something in his pocket.

  “Prometheus, eh?” Saha said, changing the subject. “Isn’t he the fellow from Greek mythology who stole fire from the gods?”

  “Exactly. He brought technology to men and in doing so he freed us.”

  Saha kept swiveling his head back and forth as we made our way through the ship.

  “My compliments, Captain,” Saha said. “You certainly run a well maintained and orderly ship. If I didn’t know better I’d think I was on a Fleet vessel.” I flicked Alex a look but she ignored me. “So, if you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing way out here?”

  “We’re a trade ship on our way make a delivery,” I answered.

  “Then you’re with one of the combines.”

  “No. Actually, we’re an independent ship.”

  “Ah, I see.” The way he said it implied that he thought we were something else. Many smugglers, and worse, called themselves ‘independent traders’.

  When we arrived at the bridge Chris called me over. The Fleet ship was still leaking massive amounts of radiation. He’d had Mark put up the shields and they were blocking our exposure but he wanted to leave as soon as possible. I told him to back us away from the hazard area. When I turned back I found Captain Saha staring at the slowly receding image of his ship on the main screen.

  “My god, look what they did to her,” he said.

  “I understand what i
t means to lose a ship, Captain,” I said.

  “She was a good ship. I wish I didn’t have to leave her like that. I wasn’t able get to the self destruct.”

  This time Alex did meet my eyes. Why did he seem so eager to destroy his ship?

  “It is a navigation hazard,” Mark agreed, drawing his own conclusions. “We can blow it for you if you want,” he offered before I could stop him.

  Saha looked at Mark, then to me. “You’re armed?”

  “We travel all over,” I said. “Some places we go can be pretty rough.” I made a mental note to talk to Mark later about keeping his mouth closed when we were around strange Fleet officers. “Captain Saha, this is Mark Sooth,” I said, giving introductions, “our very helpful electronics tech and weapons officer.”

  “Well ... thank you,” Captain Saha said. “If you can destroy her for me I would appreciate it. I’ll rest easier knowing that she’s not, um, a hazard to navigation as your officer pointed out. She’s a military ship so her hull plating is pretty thick. Your best chance for a beam attack would be to try for that hole in the engineering section.”

  Saha stepped over to the weapons console as Mark prepared to fire on the derelict. Now his eyebrows knit in a frown.

  “You’re unusually well armed for a trading ship,” Saha said looking over the console. “You even have combat shields.”

  “Like I said, we go to some pretty rough places,” I said with a shrug, trying to sound nonchalant.

  All ships carried magnetic screens to guard against the occasional sheets of ionized radiation that stars gave off from time to time. Inhabited planets were protected from these random ion storms by the combination of their atmosphere and the natural magnetic field produced by the planet’s core. But in an unprotected ship the crew would receive a fatal exposure in minutes without the protective bubble of a magnetic screen. Combat shields were an entirely different level of protection. Although they could do nothing against a missile or torpedo attack, they could deflect laser energy, at least for a time, giving the crew a chance to retaliate or withdraw. But combat shields were unusual on non military ships.

  Then I saw his eyes lock onto the lower right section of the console. I had been hoping that he wouldn’t recognize what those controls were for. Stealth generators weren’t a normal part of even military defense systems.

  When he looked up from the console Saha was wearing a stony expression. “Am I to assume that we are your prisoners … Captain?”

  This wasn’t going to be easy. “Of course not! Captain Saha, you’re our guests. We’re nothing more than what I already told you we were, a simple trade ship. If—”

  Just then I felt something tugging at my pant leg. Little Jeremy had found his way to the bridge again. I bent down and picked up the precocious toddler. Ever since he was very young, Jeremy liked being on the bridge. He was fascinated by all of the blinking lights and displays. Now that he was mobile he had started showing up from time to time under his own power. I plopped him absently on my hip.

  “Look, Captain,” I said, “we put our own ship at risk to help you. I don’t know what else we can do to reassure you, but I promise you we have no ulterior motives.”

  Jeremy started gnawing at one of the officer tabs on my collar. He was teething these days.

  “Captain,” I continued, “we brought you to the bridge so that you could contact your people. You can still do so, without any interference from us.”

  Saha didn’t look quite convinced.

  “There you are!” Momma Mary’s voice called out behind me. She had just come onto the bridge carrying a tray loaded with steaming mugs of coffee and some sliced cake. She set the tray down and reached to take Jeremy.

  “Sorry, Captain. He got away from me when I was on my way here. You’re turning into a regular little escape artist,” she scolded the toddler. Jeremy gurgled happily as she pulled his binky from an apron pocket and popped it in his mouth. Momma was the only member of the crew who didn’t wear a regular uniform. Since she spent most of her time in the galley she figured she was basically on duty twenty-four hours a day and she was damned well going to be comfortable. She liked to say that her apron was her uniform.

  “Momma, that wouldn’t happen to be your famous banana bread, would it?” I asked.

  “It sure is, honey. Can I get a piece for you and your friend?”

  Balancing Jeremy on one ample hip, Mary grabbed two plates with her free hand. I accepted one and took a big bite as she held the other one out to Captain Saha.

  Saha stood there for a moment, looking from me to Mary and back. I couldn’t imagine what he was thinking. There I was with a drool stain spreading down my collar while next to me was Mary with a baby on her hip, wearing an outrageous flowered apron and holding out a plate of cake. After a moment a grin split his features and he started laughing. I felt myself relax. Mary looked confused.

  When he caught his breath he took the plate from Mary and thanked her.

  “I can see that I’ve been extremely rude to you and your crew, Captain,” he said. “I hope you will accept my apology.”

  “Not at all, Captain,” I said, grinning myself. “I can understand what this must have looked like.”

  “Uh, excuse me, Captain,” Mark said. “What would you like me to do about that ship?” On his console the fire ready indicator was flashing.

  I looked at Saha. “It’s your ship, Captain.”

  Saha turned to give his ship one final look. We had pulled back from the stricken vessel and even on high magnification it was a small image on the screen. “I can’t leave her like that. If you would, please.”

  I nodded. “You have permission to fire.”

  Without air molecules to refract the beam, the path of the laser was invisible, but a spot on the ship’s hull near the engineering section instantly glowed white under the laser’s power, showing that the beam had gone true. With no shields to absorb and deflect the beam the laser quickly cut a line through the hull of the tumbling ship. Moments later the beam struck something volatile in the engine room and the ship went up. We watched as a glittering ball of fire expanded where the Fleet ship had been seconds before.

  “Should I lock down the weapons console, Captain?” Mark asked.

  “Not yet,” I said. “We still don’t know what happened to the ship that attacked the Pathfinder. Captain Saha, did you happen to get a heading on the ship after you drove it off?”

  “No, we didn’t. In fact we had a lot of trouble tracking it at all, which is one of the reasons why I thought ...”

  “I understand.”

  “Captain!” Patty called out. “I’m picking up a faint signal. It’s like a focused beam transmission pointed away from us so I’m only catching a little signal spillage.” She pressed the cups of her headset tighter to her ears. The bulky headset looked like something out of a history text. But the large ear coverings were not for reproducing sounds as much as they were needed to block out other noises. She frowned, listening intently as she delicately adjusted her controls.

  “I ... it’s gone.” She slipped the phones off her head.

  “Could you get a bearing on the source?” I asked. She rattled off a series of coordinates.

  I turned to Alex who shook her head.

  “I’m not picking up any ships along that bearing,” she said, refocusing her scanners. “There is a pulsar in that general direction. Could that be what you were hearing?”

  “No,” Patty said. “It was definitely some kind of signal.”

  This whole situation was odd.

  “Well, Captain,” I said to our guest, “we brought you here to use the comm. Patty, please set Captain Saha up to make his call. We’ll give you some privacy.”

  I pulled Alex and Chris aside.

  “Thoughts?”

  “You can’t do that kind of damage to a Fleet ship, even a reconnaissance class ship, unless you’ve g
ot some pretty heavy firepower,” Alex said.

  “But what happened to the other ship?” Chris said. “It should still be in range of our sensors.”

  “What if the ship took off directly on a bearing toward that pulsar?” I asked Alex. “Could the pulsar’s EM bursts hide it from us?”

  “Maybe, but they’d have to be pretty far away.”

  “And who would want to take on a Gilead Fleet ship, anyway?” Chris said. “Even way out here in the middle of nowhere, attacking a Fleet ship just isn’t smart.”

  “No, it’s not smart,” I agreed. “In fact it’s kind of reckless. Sound like anyone we know?”

  “Heller,” Alex said at once.

  “We were supposed to meet him out here!” Chris said.

  “Exactly,” I said. “We’ve been cooling our heels here for more than two days waiting for him to show up. Then a Fleet ship is attacked for no apparent reason right in the same area. And I don’t believe in coincidences.”

  “But do you really think he could do that kind of damage to a Fleet ship?” Chris asked.

  “Maybe not with the ship he used to have, but the last time we spoke he was bragging to me about getting a new ship soon. I didn’t pay him any mind because he’s always making some wild claim or other, not to mention that I doubted he would actually be able to come up with the price for another ship.”

  “Assuming that he actually intended to pay for it,” Alex said.

  “Do you really think he’d do something like this?” Chris asked. “He’s never tried anything with us.”

  “That’s because he knew his ship was no match for ours,” I said.

  We had been doing business with Captain Heller off and on for more than a year. He claimed to be an independent trader, like us, and would sometimes order provisions through us since our ship pretty much followed standard trade routes. But there was something about him that I never completely trusted. He struck me as the type of person who was friendly only as long as he was getting something he wanted from the relationship, but who would turn on you in a second if the opportunity presented itself.

  “Speaking of Captain Heller,” Chris said, “what are we going to do about his shipment? We’ve got a lot of money tied up in that stuff in our hold that he never showed up for.”

  Our last contact with Heller had been a request for more than just supplies. This time he was looking for a list of expensive trade items. He claimed that he was opening a new market somewhere and needed us to pick up a portion of his trade goods because he was going to be busy elsewhere. Most of what he wanted we could find along our planned route so I had agreed. He was supposed to rendezvous with us out here in the interstellar void past the Delphinus cluster two days ago but he had never showed.

  “We’ve given Captain Heller as much time as we’re going to,” I said. “We need supplies ourselves. I’ll give him back his deposit if we ever run into him again, but I think we can sell off that cargo now.”

  “That’s not going to be all that easy,” Chris said. “Some of the things he asked us to get for him are banned in a lot of systems.”

  “Then we’ll just have to take them someplace where they’re not banned,” I said. “Toula’s not too far from here. We should be able to get rid of just about everything there.”

  Toula was renown for its very lax regulations. Virtually nothing was illegal there, as long as the governing council got its cut. The only things banned were actions that interfered with the council’s ability to collect its percentage of any business activities. Not surprisingly it was also a popular port with pirates and smugglers.

  Captain Saha finished his call just then. I sent Chris to quietly give our new destination to Bobby at the helm.

  “My superiors wanted me to extend their thanks for your assistance,” Saha said as he joined us.

  “Not at all, Captain. Everyone knows what an SOS in deep space means.”

  “I was wondering, Captain, when you thought you might be able to get me and my crew to port?”

  “That depends on where you want to go.”

  “There is a Fleet outpost not too far from here in the Onara system.”

  I frowned. “Onara is three weeks away at our best speed, and in the opposite direction from where we’re headed.” I knew the base he was talking about. Actually, we could reach it in just under four days at flank, but I didn’t want him to know everything about us. Besides, the last place I wanted to go was to a Gilead military outpost.

  “How about this, Captain. We have a large shipment to deliver and we’re running low on fuel and supplies. I’m going to bring us to a port a few days from here where we can sell off our cargo and pick up what we need. After that we can bring you and your crew to Bricese where you can catch a civilian transport. You should be on your way in about twelve days, give or take.”

  Saha looked like he wanted to object, but he really had no choice. “That will be acceptable, Captain Pell.”

  We shook hands and I asked Alex to show him to his quarters. As they turned to leave, Saha returned his empty plate to Momma.

  “Thank you, ma’am. That was truly delicious.”

  Mary’s cheeks dimpled. “You’re quite welcome, young man. You come and see Momma in the galley any time you’re hungry and I’ll whip you up something good.”

  “Nice guy,” Mark commented after he was gone. “Just a little stiff.”

  “It’s that Fleet training,” Bobby said as he grabbed a slice of cake off of Mary’s tray and crammed it into his mouth.

  “I thought he was very polite,” Mary said. “Better manners than some people around here.”

  “You’re just saying that because he liked your banana cake,” Bobby said around a mouthful of cake as he reached for still another piece.

  “I see you’re on your third slice,” Mary said.

  “Hey, I’m a growing boy!”

  I tuned out their banter as I reviewed everything that had just happened. So far I had many more questions than answers. And although it seemed that none of this had anything to do with us I had a gut feeling that it was important. For the next twelve days or so Captain Saha and his crew would be our guests. I would see what I could learn from them. In the mean time, I had my own ship to think about.

  I turned to Chris and had him call the third shift crew to the bridge. Now that we were under way we would go back on regular duty rotations, but with full shift crews. I wanted every station manned, especially the defense systems. Until I knew more about what was going on I wanted us to be ready for anything. There was more going on here than was apparent. And for some reason I had a feeling that the ship that had attacked the Pathfinder and disappeared so mysteriously was the key to everything.