“Well don’t you worry about Reefhome Station, Jacob. We got ourselves into this mess long before you got here, and we’ll deal with the consequences as they come. You just worry about your own mission.”
Frustration boiled up in Jacob, but he walled it off from his thoughts. “You didn’t get yourself in this situation, Miguel, just like my father didn’t get himself killed. The pirates did this, and I say we need to stop them cold before they do it again.”
Miguel tilted his head and gave Jacob a calculating look . There was a long moment where the spacer simply studied him, and then he murmured something under his breath. What does he mean ‘that’s new’? Jacob shook his head and moved on. “There has to be something we can do to get the station ready to defend itself. You don’t need to abandon your home as long as you can fend for yourselves.”
Miguel sighed and shook his head slowly. “It’s a wonderful idea, Jacob, but the fact is the Navy will probably be calling you back home any day now. I’m surprised they even let you go this long without reinforcements…” The spacer’s voice trailed off, and his expression grew intensely curious. “In fact, one destroyer is pretty light for an attack force. The Celostians typically use overkill if they can manage it. And with an ensign in command…” He paused, and then his look sharpened. “Care to fill in any details?”
Jacob nodded uncomfortably. “That was actually one of the things we could use your help with. We haven’t had any contact with the fleet for at least three weeks. The only reason we ended up here was that we lost our navigation charts, and Reefhome was one of the last spots left. Could one of the more reliable freighters make a message run for us?”
The spacer answered slowly, as if unsure about what he was hearing. “Yeah, I guess I could arrange that. There’s got to be a lot of people ready to go. Why wouldn’t you just download the data and go yourself?”
With a grimace, Jacob shook his head. “In the last fight our Capistan took a hit. Most of our riftjump technicians are dead or wounded, and we need a replacement for the generator itself before we’re going anywhere. The signal drones were mostly destroyed in our first battle, so they aren’t operational either.”
“First battle? You mean yesterday wasn’t the only one?” Miguel’s eyebrows seemed to be doing their best to climb onto his scalp. “What exactly have you been doing out there?”
Jacob shrugged. “I’ll tell you later. The fact is, we aren’t going anywhere for a while.” He put enough emphasis on that last phrase that he caught sight of some of the other patrons of the restaurant turning to look at him. He resisted the urge to smile as he continued. “We might even need to use some of the repair facilities you have here. The Wolfhound could be laid up here for months while we repair, and that’s not even taking the captured ships into account.”
Miguel glanced around the restaurant, a worried expression on his face. “Are you sure the ship has taken that much damage? Would you still be able to fight if Dianton shows up?”
His voice still overly loud, Jacob answered with a healthy dose of confidence coloring his voice. “We’ve already fought Dianton and gotten the best of him. Besides, once the message gets to the Navy, they could be here with a small fleet in a few days. What would a pirate do against something like that?” He paused as the waitress arrived with the food. His lips threatened to twist into a victorious smile as he caught sight of the curious expression on her face, but instead he dropped his voice. “Sorry, I guess I was talking a little loud. We can talk about our plans to defend the station later.”
Confusion reigned on Miguel’s face for a moment until he caught sight of the look on the waitress’ face. His expression went blank with surprise and realization, and his eyes darted to take in the other customers at the nearby tables. He waited until the lingering waitress finally walked away, and then leaned in close. “Starting some rumors, are we?”
Jacob quirked an eyebrow at him, keeping his voice carefully neutral. “What would give you that idea?” He took a bite out of the first burrito on his plate and nearly groaned with joy at the taste. It’s like coming home. The taste, and the plan currently forming in his mind, had started to cleanse him of the weariness he had been feeling, sweeping it away in a rush.
“You know, you’re going to build their hopes pretty high with a stunt like this. Are you sure you can live up to it?” Miguel’s tone was just as neutral, though Jacob could hear some amusement peeking through.
Jacob’s response was delayed by the mouthful of deliciousness he was enjoying. As he chewed, Jacob looked out the front of the restaurant, at the empty storefronts and the harried faces rushing by. He swallowed and looked back at Miguel. “I think these people could use a little hope, don’t you think? Besides, it’s not like I’m lying.”
A grunt showed what Miguel thought of the rationalization. The spacer swallowed a chunk of the sauce-covered meat he had ordered, coughed, and spoke a little hoarsely. “Odds are you won’t be staying here. They’ll get some heavy hauler to get you back to a Navy shipyard and leave us to rot.”
Jacob felt a sly smile work its way across his face. “That might happen, but we don’t know for sure. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to start repairs before they get here. It might be wise to fix some things right now, and perhaps if they see the station as something of value…”
“They’ll leave a permanent guard.” Miguel was thoughtful now. “People might not like living under Celostian law. That’s why some of us are out here on the fringe of Celostian space, remember.”
“Better than Telosian pirates. In any case, I doubt it would be permanent. They would give you enough time to rebuild, maybe even try to finish the pirates off, and then go.” Jacob picked at the burritos. “It’s the best shot we have of ending this well.”
Miguel nodded. “It’s not much of a plan, Jacob.”
Jacob shrugged, swallowing the bite of burrito. “Spacers do their best with what they have.” He popped another mouthful in and smiled around it.
The spacer nodded in bemused agreement before settling down to his own meal. Jacob's smile grew when he heard the couple that had been at the nearest table whispering fiercely on their way out the door. Words like ‘protection’ and ‘reinforcements’ caught his ears. Rumors have a way of spreading. Now it’s time that worked in my favor.
By the time Jacob started on his way back to the skiff, the market was buzzing with people, many of them clustered in small groups. Some people actually started pointing him out as he walked alongside Miguel. He tried not to make it obvious he noticed, but it was especially obvious when a pair of passing young men started shouting to their friends and waving at him. An idea occurred to him, and he turned to ask Miguel another question.
“Miguel, what have the young people been doing while the pirates are here?”
The spacer frowned a little, as if taking a moment to consider the question before answering. When he did speak, he still sounded very uncertain. “Well, some do join up with pirate crews, though they do tend to be the worse sorts. Most of them have been pressed into working with the repair crews, or sometimes they fly the freighters and transports. A few even have started learning the mining trade, as they usually would, but most have tended more toward spacecraft skills. Why?”
Jacob gave him a sidelong smile. “Oh, nothing. Do you think that the parents of the station would take it the wrong way if I started recruiting? Say, opened positions for young men who wanted to get out of the repair docks and onto a warship?”
Miguel missed a step on the way down the stairs, catching himself at the last moment on the railing. He paused to glare at the step he’d slipped past, and then turned an incredulous stare on Jacob. “Are you kidding? The station council would be up in arms! They’re already going to have my head over the supplies and repairs we’ll be giving you, let alone the typical badgering they send my way. You expect me to convince them to let you sign up volunteers for the Celostian Navy too?”
Jacob paused. The last loud incr
edulous question hung in the air, echoing around the Tube for a moment. Both of the young men were staring openmouthed at him and Miguel, and as their friends joined them, they rounded on them and started jabbering excitedly. He turned to Miguel and shook his head. “I’m not sure you’ll be the one doing the convincing. They may find their doors being battered down if they aren’t careful.”
Miguel wagged a finger at him and grimaced as the young men ran off together in a group. “You just remember I was against it. You hear me? I don’t support it one bit.”
Jacob nodded seriously, but not before catching a glimpse of amusement in Miguel’s eye. He glanced to the side and saw several knots of young men within easy listening distance, all of whom were now staring at them interestedly. Jacob could almost see the rumors starting to form in their heads, and he resisted the urge to nod approvingly at Miguel. He’s certainly a fast learner. The pitch of the murmur inside the market started to grow. After another quick look around, Jacob started down the steps again. “Come on, Miguel, we wouldn’t want my crew to leave without me.”
The spacer followed, a low grumbling monologue accenting each step down the staircase.
Another trip down the corridor brought them back alongside the skiff, where Ashford, Taylor and Iriel were waiting. Jacob walked over to them. He noticed the group of spacers huddled a short distance away, and reached out a hand for Ashford to shake. “How did it go?”
The Marine hesitated, then took Jacob’s hand and shook firmly. “It went well.” He glanced at Miguel, and then swallowed. “Sir.” Looking as if he had eaten something putrid, Ashford continued in his sour tones. “They haggled like a bunch of geese, but they are going to give us most of what we wanted. Food for the galley, fuel for the reactor, that sort of thing. How did your—talk—go?”
With a smile Jacob gestured back to Miguel. “Fairly well, actually. We put our heads together and we managed to get some plans worked out. Miguel here is going to try and get a message to the Navy for us. We might even be able to make some repairs while we wait for a response.”
Ashford’s eyes took on a suspicious glint, but Taylor broke in before the sergeant could respond. “So will we be headed home, then? No more traipsing about the galaxy with no support and no mission?”
The questions came in a tone that was a mess of jumbled emotions, ranging from excitement to dread, from eagerness to regret. Jacob gave the Gunnery officer a smile and a nod, feeling a similar mess well up in him. It will all be over soon. “We’ll be home, Taylor. That’s what will matter.” Hoping his voice had concealed some of what he was feeling, he looked up at the hatch of the skiff. “Are we ready to go then?”
Iriel answered. She still sounded a little tired. “Yes, sir! We can be back on the Wolfhound in no time.” She led the way up to the hatch, followed by the Marines. Jacob actually jumped when the soldiers had reappeared; he had nearly forgotten the escort with everything that was going on. He shook his head wearily. I need some rest. Otherwise I will never be able to handle this, but everything’s happening so fast that I can’t keep up. How do I do this? A hand landed on his shoulder, and he looked back to see Miguel smiling at him.
“It was good to meet you, Jacob. Don’t be a stranger.”
Jacob glanced back at the other officers, and then quickly shook the man’s hand. “I’ll try not to be. Let me know how the message run goes.”
“I will. Fly safe.”
He nodded and then joined the others inside the skiff. With a satisfied sigh, he let his head fall back against the seat and fastened his restraints. Time to head home. The skiff lifted off as he closed his eyes, and Jacob let a final smile play across his lips as the Wolfhound came back into view. Home.
Chapter Nineteen
The alarm blared into a painful cacophony only a few strides from the bed. Jacob groaned and flailed about in the dark, trying to silence it without leaving his cot, but it was out of reach. Cursing his own cleverness, Jacob dragged himself out of the comfortable bed and stumbled across the floor to hit the alarm and silence it. For a moment, he stood there in the dark, his mind still muddled from the deep, dreamless sleep he’d had.
Then the previous day’s events came back to him, and he hit the switch to turn on the lights. Here I go again. Jacob shook his head, trying to clear away some of the fuzziness of sleep, and then started to prepare himself for the day. It took him a bit longer than he liked to pull on his uniform, but he managed anyway.
He walked out of the commander’s room, still groggy from sleep. He made it a third of the way to the bridge when the first crew member approached him and snapped to attention. Inwardly, Jacob sighed.
“Ensign Hull, sir! I was told to report that a spacer craft made a riftjump out of the system. Sergeant Ashford said they had clearance for launch, but he wanted you informed, sir.”
“Thank you, crewman.” Jacob hesitated, and then smiled. “Also, thank you for waiting until I was awake to report.” The crewman smiled in return and nodded before retreating along the corridor. Feeling a small flicker of triumph, Jacob walked to the bridge elevator, then opened the access hatch and clambered up the ladder to the antechamber.
Two Marines stood guard in the antechamber, and they also snapped to attention. Jacob nodded in acknowledgement before entering the bridge, which was awash with commotion. Ashford, looking slightly haggard, shot him a bleary, hostile glance before turning back to the situation. “Jacob’s here now, so it’s his turn to deal with it. Bother him if you want to continue with this nonsense. Wolfhound out.”
Al-shira, her head bandaged where she had hit the console, pressed a button to shut a communication link off.
Jacob gave Ashford a questioning look, but the sergeant stomped past without any immediate explanation. A look to Al-shira was a bit more profitable, as she apparently deigned to give him an explanation.
“Ashford has been harassed by requests from different members of the station’s ruling council for the past few hours. Don’t take it personally, Ensign.” Her smile was part predator and part friend, something which truly unnerved Jacob. He nodded.
“What have they been asking about? Have any decisions been made that I need to be aware of?”
Al-shira shook her head. “For the most part it has been squabbles over fees that some of them keep trying to spring on us for the supplies we are taking on. You know, transport fees, new customer fees, that sort of thing.” The Communications officer shrugged. “Ashford seemed to be doing fairly well without your help, though. I wouldn’t worry about it.”
Jacob nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure he did. So there's nothing strange or out of the ordinary yet?”
She started to shake her head, and then paused. “Well, there were a few complaints. One of the councilors mentioned they were upset about having to deal with requests to join the Wolfhound’s crew. Ashford said we didn’t have anything to do with that.” Al-shira paused again, suspicion creeping into her expression once she noticed Jacob’s sudden smile. “Did we?”
“Of course not, Ensign. We would never think of taking on new crew without the council’s permission.” At least, not until I can find a way to do it without getting caught. “Anything else?”
Al-shira tilted her head and studied him for a moment before responding. “One more thing. Some of the council members have been bidding for repairs on the ship.” Her frown expressed her opinion of that possibility easily enough. “Apparently there are multiple crews owned by different council members, so they are all in a race to get the contract. I have no idea why they would think we would let them work on our ship, though.”
Jacob shrugged innocently, though his smile continued to grow. “Tell them that we will consider their generous offers and bids and we will get back to them soon.”
She arched an eyebrow at him. “Ensign, you know that regulations prohibit the use of non-Navy approved repair facilities. They could easily sabotage or otherwise cripple the Wolfhound.”
“Like the bombs built into our
ship in the Navy yards?” Jacob let the question hang in the air for a moment until Al-shira looked down. “This ship isn’t going to last through another fight without repairs, and I doubt the pirate craft are a better option. We have no way to repair ourselves without their help, and the spacers are in our debt. I see no reason not to take advantage of the situation. Do you know other regulations that address our situation more adequately, Al-shira?”
She shook her head, her jaw set angrily as she glared at her console. Jacob sighed. I’ll pay for that later, I’m sure. He looked back toward the console and noticed a sudden flash of light from in the projection. “Singh, what was that?”
“A riftjump, sir.” Singh paused for a moment before continuing. “Based on the shape of the craft and the size of the energy burst, I’d say that it was the freighter they sent out to fetch the Navy for us. They must not have stayed very long.”
Jacob frowned. What would have been the hurry to get back here? “Al-shira, see if you can open up a transmission to them.”
“They beat you to it, Ensign. They are hailing us now.”
“Put it through.” A light lit up on his console, and Jacob nodded. “This is Ensign Jacob Hull of the Wolfhound. How was your trip?”
“Hull! You’re that ensign captain, right?”
Jacob frowned at the barely restrained panic in the spacer’s voice. “More or less. What is the situation?”
“It’s worse than bad, captain.” The spacer on the other end of the transmission seemed to be on the verge of collapse. “It’s war.”
There was shocked silence on the bridge before Jacob spoke again. “What?”
“There was a big attack a few days ago at Rigannin. Odurans came out of nowhere, and nobody was ready for it when they hit. The Odurans had dozens of ships, probably half a dozen cruisers. The entire planet was razed, and a few nearby colonies scrapped. To top it off, they hit Erad too, and carried off a bunch of people. The Navy is scrambling to respond, and half of them are out searching for the fleet that took the slaves.”
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