About twenty minutes after the two ships began moving, the sensor officer spoke up. “Captain, the local warships that have been shadowing us have begun moving. They’re holding position still at two light minutes, still close enough to keep an eye on us,” Ensign Droven reported.
“They’re sending messages back to the orbital, sir,” the chief petty officer at communications piped in. “Probably giving updates.” Secaarans were aliens from an incredibly inhospitable world and as such had evolved a rock-like skin and the heavy gravity world had given them a dense frame and great strength. Her voice was low and husky, like most heavy worlders, but it was also… gravelly, as though her throat was crushing up rocks and other pebbles as she spoke. Maybe she was. Her skin was a shiny grey, almost black, as though someone had tried to whitewash obsidian. She had no visible eyes, but she and the rest of her people seemed to have no problems in seeing.
“Very well,” the Captain replied. “Keep an ear out. If you pick up any interesting transmissions, let me know.”
“Aye, sir.” The chief, whose name was Greneth, continued to work her console. Harth wasn’t worried. She was very good at her job, despite her rather odd appearance. Most people would think that Secaarans would be better off in the Marines or the Army rather than sitting on the bridge of a Navy vessel, but Harth had never had cause to complain about her.
It would be a quick two hour flight to the hyper limit and then the chase would be back on. Duncan Harth relished it. There wasn’t anything in the Ulla-tran system that was of any real interest, though all of the sensor readings and his own observations were going into his report for the Admiral. There was a fair amount of space traffic out here, even aside from the pirates. More than was anticipated. And if the locals, including the pirates, were starting to build warships then perhaps it was past time to start taking a more firm hand out here. The Argos Cluster, once upon a time, had been a part of the Republic, perhaps it might be time to start bringing a few of these worlds back into the fold. Perhaps they could be brought back in as Protectorates instead of getting full nation state status. That would keep the loudest complainers in the Republic Senate from going crazy over the notion. That way, the Republic could reap the benefit of having them back in the fold without having to worry about those same worlds banding together to try and change things back in the Republic itself, or be able to demand too much from the Navy. It was certainly something to consider.
He checked himself. There was a small item of interest. The locals had apparently built some home grown warships, because the corvettes and the frigate that had been shadowing them certainly weren’t holdovers from when the Republic held this system. Long range sensor scans indicated that while they were certainly of a lower quality, the ships were certainly potent enough to be a threat. The three ships were no match for a heavy cruiser, even one as old as Legacy, but against many of the ships here in the Cluster that was a task force that people would need to be wary of. In fact, Harth himself was wary of them, making sure they made no move to engage his two ships. He wasn’t worried that he could defeat them in detail, but he was concerned about the damage his ships might take or the lives that would be lost. And, he added to his own thoughts, if the pirate threat out here in the Cluster is as bad as it seems, stripping system defense ships from even this star system would not be a good idea. Right now, Ulla-tran seems to have enough forces to give the pirates pause, make them consider finding softer targets. Definitely something that the Admiral needs to be made aware of.
A short while later, the woman at the helm broke into his thoughts. “Captain, we’ve reached the hyper limit.”
He sat up a little straighter. “Is Ravage ready to jump?”
“Yes, sir,” Kamerov replied. “So are we. Ravage has slaved her navigation to ours, she’ll stay with us the whole way.”
“All right then. Punch it. We’ve got a ship to catch.”
The ship’s pilot pressed the control, there was a whine that ran through the ship as the hyperdrive engaged. Next stop, Amethyst, Harth thought.
The captain of the frigate Adroit called in, bringing with it glad tidings. Goris Hana was again in his office, happy that things were finally starting to get back to normal. The fueling station has scrubbed the malware from all their systems, going through every single computer system, network and individual terminal and scrubbing out everything. As frustrating as this was, Hana couldn’t help but respect the designer of that program. It was insidious, getting into every system and then replicating itself when it was sanitized from main systems.
The last several days had just been a horror show. One minute, he’d obtained a new ship and had a great deal of fuel stockpiled ready for sale. And then this. All of it just came crashing down with that damned virus. And then another freighter crew shot up his fueling station, killing a number of his subordinates and then had the audacity to escape. Then the pirates came and then of all things, a Republic heavy cruiser. What the hell was happening out here in his nice, orderly system?
But at least they had left. The damned Republic cruiser, the damned pirates and the thrice-damned bulk freighter. The last of them was finally gone and good riddance. Maybe now he could start getting things back on track.
He smiled, his fat face warming at the thought. Yes, things were starting to get back to the way they should be. And with no pirates or Republic here to interfere, one Goris Hana might be able to continue on his rise. He was the kingpin of his little fiefdom here, but being in control of a fueling station was not necessarily the highest point of his ambition. No, he wanted the whole system.
He looked at his sensor displays of the whole system. There was a lot of work yet to do and with the stars willing, there wouldn’t be anymore outside distractions.
He pressed a control on his terminal. “Open a channel to Adroit. Tell them to get back here with all haste. And if he’s up to it, I’d like to have a meeting with her captain.”
Sixteen hours later, the frigate was in a parking orbit near the fueling station and her captain was aboard the station itself. The corvettes had retreated into a more standard patrol path, though for now it was little more than reestablishing the standard routine. Schedules and patrols had been all shot to hell ever since the arrival of the interlopers from the outside systems and a fair number of crews for the defense ships were dead now because of the malware from the big freighter.
Goris Hana stared across his desk at Adroit’s captain. He was human, small and wiry, but it appeared that he’d seen some action over the years. His face was heavily scarred, as though he’d been burned. His right eye was gone, replaced with a cybernetic, as was his left hand. His head was shaved bald, right down to his dusky black skin. He wore the uniform of Ulla-tran’s system defense forces, and sat upright, ramrod straight in the chair. He was by no means a novice but he had never been aboard the fueling station before. And he’d certainly never had a face to face with the Administrator before.
“How can I help you, Administrator?” the captain asked. “I’m here as a courtesy, but I really do have to get back out there. After all the turmoil of the last few weeks…”
“No, of course, Captain Turco, of course,” Hana replied. “I won’t keep you long. I only wanted to bring you in just as you say, for a courtesy call. I wanted to thank you for your good work while that Republic cruiser was here in the system.”
Turco snorted. “Good work? You made it sound as though my ship fought off all the pirates and the Republic cruiser single handedly. All we did was keep out distance from them and report in on their activities.”
“All important tasks, Captain.”
Turco sighed. “My rank is Marklan.”
Hana put his hands up to his shoulders to signify apology. “Forgive me Marklan Turco. I’m a businessman, not really familiar with military parlance.”
Turco sighed. “Why am I here, Administrator?”
Now it was Goris Hana’s turn to sigh. “I’ll be frank, Cap- er, Marklan. The recen
t fiasco here in the system has left us in a bit of a bind. We’re hitting a bit of a manpower shortage in trained personnel.”
The Marklan frowned. “And how am I, a warship commander, supposed to help with this? Can’t you recruit from the local population?”
Hana nodded. “We can and we are. But I’m thinking that perhaps we might need to recruit people from outside Ulla-tran.”
“Why?”
“Because it would take weeks or longer to train them up. Most of the people we can get here in system are either already working for us, or are completely untrained. If you can bring in some trained people from outside the system then we can get up to speed a lot faster.”
“All right,” Turco conceded. “Let’s assume I can find these trained personnel. How am I supposed to get them back here? I don’t have room for passengers on my ship. And as far as I know, we don’t have any spare troop transports in the system.”
The toad smiled, this finally was an area where he had one slimy hand up. “I have half a dozen ships that can be used to transport personnel. I’ve been having them repaired and modified to carry people instead of cargo.”
Turco frowned, which gave him an odd look, as one of his eyes couldn’t form expressions because of the cybernetics. “Wait, are you referring to the mob of freighters you have docked in the lower level of the fueling station?”
He nodded. “I am. Between them we can carry about a hundred and fifty souls. I’ve had the life support upgraded and bunks and other facilities added for the comfort of the passengers. Crews for the ships have also been assigned and brought in. They will be ready to go in two days.”
“One hundred and fifty souls,” Turco said slowly, almost derisively. “How is that helpful? I have again as many as that on my ship alone.”
“Well, about forty or so of those brought back would be used to recrew the defense ships. The rest would be put on the new frigate once it’s out of the builder’s slip,” Hana explained. “After that ship is completed, work will begin on our very first cruiser. But you’re right; it’s really a pittance for what we truly need.”
“Then why am I being tasked for this?” Turco demanded. “If it’s only a drop in the bucket, why is it worth the expense in fuel and man hours, not to mention the potential danger in running a convoy through areas where pirates have been seen?”
Hana pondered that for a good minute. “That is an excellent question, Marklan. An excellent question. But I think that if we can establish recruiting stations on other systems, we can certainly increase the number of personnel we’re bringing in.”
“One hundred and fifty people at a time? Bah!” Turco spat. “That’s a waste of time and resources for the amount of return. Better off using those freighters to run light cargoes. At least that way you’re bringing in some profit and covering those costs. Bringing in crews on ships that small is a waste.”
“We don’t have anything bigger, anything that could bring in hundreds or even thousands of trained people, should we find them. Not since that bulk freighter jumped out of here a month ago,” Goris Hana pointed out. “And running your ship on a skeleton crew is the worst kind of bad idea.”
“I concur with that statement,” Turco said stiffly. “A criminally bad idea because you would be in essence just handing Adroit over to the enemy.” He stood and started to pace through the front section of the office. “If we were to encounter a pirate or Republic vessel, we couldn’t stand up in a fight with them.”
“No, I wouldn’t think you would be able to,” the toad replied. He squinched up his face in thought, but he had long ago planned this contingency. “Then perhaps we may need to lease a larger vessel for this sort of thing.”
“Where?” the Marklan said angrily. “There are no other systems that have serious shipping nearby.”
“Seylonique does,” the toad answered, keeping his voice reasonable. “I know for a fact that there is at least one transport vessel there that’s big enough to do the job that we want. In fact, it passed through here just before all that nonsense went down a month ago. The Kara.”
Turco stopped and stared at the man. “Yes, I remember the ship,” he said slowly, nodding. “But she looked to be in good shape, from what I remember. Surprisingly good, considering what we know about Seylonique these days.”
“Yes, indeed.” Goris Hana nodded sagely. “Perhaps if you can charter something there that’s at least marginal and bring it back here for refit. Maybe that’s something you can work into the price with the officials at Seylonique.”
Turco frowned heavily. “I am not a merchant, negotiating for the best pricing on a transport ship. I am a Marklan on a warship.”
“Yes, you are,” Hana replied. “And that’s what I need you for. To fly cover for the transports that are going out and the ones coming back.”
Turco sighed. “Flying cover,” he said slowly. “You make it sound as though… never mind. The exact verbiage doesn’t matter. You’re implying that I’m not the one who will be making any deals or chartering any ships.”
Goris Hana laced his swollen fingers together. “No, Marklan Turco, you will not be making the deals or chartering any further ships. I will be sending a representative with you and they will be doing all of those tasks. Your job is simply to do what you do best: provide security and keep the other ships safe.”
“One frigate to ride herd on six civilian freighters, and then you want to charter at least one big one. Seven ships?”
“Is that going to be a problem, Marklan?”
Turco sighed. “It certainly isn’t ideal. Can you authorize either Abyss or Torrent to accompany Adroit? Having two ships would certainly make my job easier and make the convoy you’re authorizing less appetizing to the various predators out there.”
“You’re only going to be traveling to systems within one jump from Ulla-tran,” the toad said. “How much trouble could there be?”
“How much trouble came into this system only a month ago, Administrator?” Turco countered.
The fat toad grimaced. “Point taken. I will speak with the council and get them to free up one of those ships.”
“Good. Thank you, Administrator.” He turned back and stopped pacing. “When do we leave?”
“How soon can Adroit be ready to roll?” Hana countered.
It took two days for the frigate to be restocked with food and supplies and her fuel tanks topped off. The team of recruiters and negotiators came aboard the Adroit and were shown to guest quarters. The cargo ships, all six of them, were made ready in that time as well. They were a motley collection of tramp freighters, meant for short-haul flights of small, high value cargoes. Most of the ships were aged and well-worn, but still in good repair.
The newest of the little convoy was one only picked up a few weeks previous: the Emilia Walker. Her main systems had been patched, the hull breaches welded over and her shields repaired. She was ugly, looking as though she had a bad case of pox, but she could fly and her hull was airtight. The life support system had been overhauled and expanded, just like the others and now she was fit to carry twenty-five souls aboard. It wouldn’t be pretty, but the ride would be in just as much relative comfort as all the other ships. Engineering teams from the fueling station had gone over her inch by inch and were sure that her systems were sound.
Marklan Turco had his doubts about that and was concerned about the living conditions about the ships for the potential recruits. To that end, he spoke with the recruiters, who walked the Marklan through the process, step by step, and explained his concerns.
The recruiter laughed. “Oh, sure, they’ll be uncomfortable as hell on the ride back. We’re heading out to Bimawae first, then back here and then out again to Seylonique. By then, I hope we’ll have a big ol’ transport ship to carry them in, not these tramp freighters. Get the freighters back to doing what they were designed to do.”
“Are you sure they’re going to want to stay on once they see this ship?” Turco asked.
&nb
sp; The man laughed again. “That’s why we have your ship, Marklan. We dazzle them with the prowess of this fine vessel,” he extended his arms to encompass the ship around him, “Show off your weaponry, your orderly uniforms, give a few speeches and we’ll have them lining up. Who knows? Maybe we’ll get a ship in Bimawae that we can use.”
“Let’s hope so,” Turco replied. “But I’m not going to count on that.”
An hour later the small convoy departed from the fueling station, the freighters flying two by two, with Adroit covering them from just above, with Abyss leading the way. They flew off in a slightly wobbly formation, moving for the hyper limit. Goris Hana watched them go from the viewport in his office until he could no longer see the glimmer of their propulsion units. From there he turned to his console and watched the station sensor feeds as the ships headed out to the limit. In a number of hours, the ships would be outside the range of the station’s visual sensors and could only be tracked on gravitics, but Hana would still be able to follow their progress. For two hours, he watched the feeds as the ships flew further from the fueling station, until finally he switched off the feed and returned to his duties.
“So, what is it that we’re doing again?” Yana Harik, the pilot on the Emilia Walker asked his associate. He was running the ship easily, the autopilot engaged and the tramp freighter was easily maintaining speed and direction with the rest of the convoy. The freighters were a motley collection of ships, no two alike, but all heading in the same direction. It was strange, seeing the cargo holds of the ship empty and filled with racks for sleeping, with extra life support pods connected. Right now though, all that space was just empty. The crew of five was operating a ship that normally held a crew of ten. But with no cargo aboard and everything operating in decent order, a larger crew wasn’t needed. Perhaps once they picked up the passengers they were chartered for, they could perhaps get a few of them to take a shift or two as crew instead of cargo.
Hold the Star: Samair in Argos: Book 2 Page 8