Milk Run (Smuggler's Tales From The Golden Age Of The Solar Clipper Book 1)

by Nathan Lowell

  “Captain Trask will have something to say about this.”

  Pritchard laughed. “Well, mostly he’ll say ‘where the hell’s my ship?’ because we won’t be here when he gets back.”

  “Last ones, boss,” Wolk said, adding a package to the stack.

  Town joined him and tossed the last package on top before keying the lock closed. “Ready, boss.”

  “We can’t leave without filing a flight plan. We need a tug to get out of here,” Natalya said.

  “Oh, stuff and nonsense,” Pritchard said. “You think I’m going to hang around here waiting for permission?” He laughed. “Mr. Wolk, would you get up to the helm? We’ll need a little assistance to get moving quickly.”

  Wolk disappeared up the passageway. Town lounged against the pile of packaging.

  “How is this even going to work? You can’t just blast out of a CJPCT dock.”

  “Don’t be foolish, my girl. Of course we can.” He spoke over his shoulder without taking his eyes off Natalya. “Get ready on the emergency release, if you would, Mike. We need to be ready to move when Aaron has the helm.”

  Town pulled the cover off the emergency release lever and tossed it to the deck with a clatter. “Ready, boss.”

  “You see, Ms. Regyri. You’ve been around High Liner docks long enough to know that, occasionally, vessels need to leave in a hurry. We can’t be waiting around tied to an orbital that’s ruptured and bleeding atmosphere. Perhaps on fire. Now can we?”

  His words sent a chill into the pit of Natalya’s stomach. “You wouldn’t.”

  “Oh, wrong word. I think you’re looking for ‘didn’t’ but yes, I did. We’ve plenty of time yet, but by the time Mr. Wolk has secured the bridge, we’ll be able to slip away in the confusion with few people being the wiser, I think.”

  They waited for several ticks. Helms opened his eyes and cast a sidelong glance at Natalya.

  Natalya shrugged. “Seems like it’s taking him a long time to get to the bridge,” she said. “Suppose Zoya caught him?”

  Pritchard shrugged. “I’m sure he can dispose of one jumped-up green third mate.”

  “What about Charlie? Blanchard is a big guy. I suspect he’s won his share of fights.”

  Pritchard dug the needler into Helms’s face a little deeper. “Nice try. Charlie Blanchard won’t be bothering us any time soon. By now he’s probably halfway to a re-entry burn.” He shrugged. “Too bad he’s not in a shuttle.”

  They waited some more. Town started to fidget. “Want me to go check on him, Boss? Maybe he ran into trouble.”

  “Patience, Mr. Town. Time has a funny way of slowing down. It hasn’t been as long as we think.”

  After another two solid ticks, Pritchard nodded. “Go. Find him.”

  Town ran down the passageway into the ship.

  “You know, Captain Trask is going to be back soon,” Natalya said.

  Pritchard’s gaze flicked to the chronometer on the bulkhead above the desk. “He’s probably still trying to locate Labreque.” He shrugged. “Won’t matter. He can’t open the lock from that side.”

  Natalya tilted her head to the side. “No?”

  Pritchard smirked. “You thought you were so clever to lock me out of the system. Silly girl.”

  She sighed. “I knew we should have looked for a backdoor.”

  “Yes, but even if you had found it, the system security on this bucket is dreadful. I’d have just co-opted Lyons’s login and kept going.”

  “Looks like it’s just you and me,” Natalya said after another tick had passed.

  “Well, and my pointy friend here, for the moment.” He twisted his needler against Helms’s face. “Have a little faith.”

  “How did you jigger the emitter bus coupling?” she asked.

  “Easy. After we jumped into Albert, I ran a jumper across the terminals of the coupler. Next time we sent juice through it, the jumper fried but shunted enough of the power to the coupler itself to cook it.”

  “Ballsy. What made you think that would work?”

  “Trade secret. Worked perfectly though, didn’t it?”

  “Until I pulled the coupling out and cross-checked the part number.”

  “Yes.” Pritchard sighed. “You’ve been a bit tedious but very easy to lead into ordering the parts. I thought I was going to have to do that myself. When Kondur sent you and Ms. Usoko, I admit I wasn’t sure how that would all work out.” He smiled. “Turned out, it worked beautifully.”

  Natalya’s tablet bipped and she started to reach for it.

  “Uh-uh,” Pritchard said. “Hands on the desk.”

  She flattened her hands on the desk and shifted her weight on the stool, gathering her legs under her.

  “Easy, Ms. Regyri,” Pritchard said. “Rash actions could be fatal for Mr. Helms.”

  She heard some scuffling in the passageway into the ship.

  Pritchard heard it, too, but he only glanced that way before smiling at Natalya. “Won’t be long now.”

  “Natalya?” Zoya’s voice sounded loud, echoing down the passageway, as her footsteps came closer.

  Pritchard looked over his shoulder, swinging his gun hand toward the sound.

  Natalya dove for Helms, shoving him to the deck before Pritchard could turn back. The sprangity-sprang of high-speed needles crunching against the bulkhead followed only a heartbeat later. Natalya kicked Pritchard’s left knee backward, felling him like a tree. A second kick caught him in the side of the head, leaving him dazed.

  The lock beeped and then started to lever open as black-suited figures swarmed through the opening.

  Natalya was never so glad to see TIC agents in her life.

  One agent rushed Pritchard and stuck an ugly short-barreled weapon against the side of his head. “Please don’t move. This would make a hell of a mess.”

  Pritchard said nothing beyond a high-pitched keening as he tried to cradle his broken knee.

  Shouts of “clear” echoed around the lock and one more officer strode up the ramp and into the ship. He stripped off his balaclava and grinned at Natalya. “Nice work, Ms. Regyri.”

  It felt like the deck shifted under her as she stared up into the grinning face of the man she knew as Charlie Blanchard.

  “Town and Wolk were in on it. They’re somewhere aboard.”

  “We have them, Nats,” Zoya said, looking down over the desk.

  Blanchard looked at the pile of goods in the corner of the brow. “And we have our parts back. Excellent.” He leaned over to Pritchard. “Just so you know, Vagrant’s ship has already left the system and the little presents you left down on the oh-six deck aren’t going to surprise anybody.”

  Pritchard’s face, already a pale, waxy mask filmed in sweat, turned red. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You hold onto that story, Pritchard. I’m sure the magistrate will love to hear it.” Blanchard looked at Helms and Natalya, still tangled on the deck. “Sorry. Are you two all right?”

  Helms nodded. “Banged my shoulder on the way down, but better than a face full of needles.”

  “Nats? You’ve got blood on your neck,” Zoya said.

  Natalya reached back and found only one stinging spot on the back of her neck. “I got creased, I think.” She reached up and brought back bloody fingers. “Yeah.”

  “Morrison, Cross. Get Pritchard out of here. Velotta, go with Usoko and retrieve Town and Wolk. Waters, check Regyri’s neck.” He held a hand down to Helms. “Mr. Helms? Can you untangle enough to get up?”

  Two of the black-clad agents hustled Pritchard off the ship. One agent—Waters—cleaned Natalya’s wound and slapped a field dressing on it. Helms stood against the bulkhead, rubbing his cheek where Pritchard had ground the barrel of his needler into it. A couple of ticks later, Velotta brought Town and Wolk down in handcuffs and took them off the ship. Zoya and Josh Lyons peeked around the corner.

  “What the hell is going on here?” Captain Trask bulled up the ramp from the d
ock, a black-suited agent attached to his bicep.

  “Sorry, sir, he got by me,” the agent said.

  “Let him go, Wallace. It’s his ship.”

  “Charlie?” Trask blinked several times. “My gods, Charlie? We thought you were dead.”

  “Not yet, Skipper. Sorry, I couldn’t get in touch with you. I was a bit tied up.”

  Trask looked at Natalya, still sitting on the deck. “You all right, Ms. Regyri?”

  “Caught a ricochet. Stings a bit, but yeah. I think Pritchard is the only one injured.”

  “Pritchard? Where is he?”

  “Skipper? We probably should have this conversation in the cabin?” Blanchard said. He gave a nod to the multitude of wide-eyed crew who had joined Zoya and Lyons at the end of the passage.

  Trask pulled himself together and nodded. “Yeah. Of course.” He started for the passageway and most of the lookers vanished back into the ship, the buzz of conversation already building as they went.

  “Waters, Cross. Get Orbital to send up a team to collect these parts and get them into evidence. Get a receipt to the chandlery so they don’t charge the ship. Secure the dock. I’ll be a few ticks with Captain Trask. Make sure Pritchard gets medical treatment for his knee.”

  “Yes, sirs” popped around the deck and agents streamed off the ship.

  “Are you all right to finish your watch, Mr. Helms?” Blanchard asked.

  Helms nodded. “Yeah. I think so.” He rubbed his cheek again. “Yeah.”

  Blanchard put a hand down for Natalya and she grabbed it. He pulled her to her feet and held onto her hand for a moment. “You’re all right?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. Just a little shaky.”

  “After-action nerves,” Blanchard said with a grin.

  She laughed. “Yeah. Right.”

  Chapter 52

  Siren Orbital: 2363, August 2

  With all of them in the cabin, Natalya felt a little hemmed in. Trask sat at his desk while Lyons and Zoya took two of the visitors’ chairs. Natalya found herself propped against a corner of the bulkhead while Blanchard stood in front of the closed cabin door. In his black body armor and uniform, he looked huge.

  Trask looked around the cabin once, then nodded. “How bad is it?” he asked Blanchard.

  Blanchard shook his head. “You’re not under arrest. The ship is free to go, but you might want to finish the repairs on that emitter bus coupling and maybe hire a couple of crew before you leave.”

  Trask’s eyes widened. “You’re not coming back with us?”

  “Sorry, Skipper. I’ve been recalled.”

  Trask chuckled a little. “I knew we had TIC aboard. I never thought it was you.”

  “What was that all about?” Zoya asked.

  “I can’t tell you most of it. Pritchard is a pawn in a larger game. Unfortunately, he got greedy and stupid at the last, forcing us to step in. There’s enough evidence to put him away for a very long time, but we lost a chance at cracking the larger problem.”

  “There’s a mega out there, isn’t there,” Natalya said.

  “We don’t know. We believe there may be.” He shrugged. “You’ve already put the pieces together. We’ll have to do some more legwork, but it’ll be up to different agents now.”

  “They’re already in place, aren’t they?” Trask asked.

  Blanchard grinned. “No comment.”

  “Who’m I going to going to get to replace you, Charlie?”

  Blanchard lifted his chin in Zoya’s direction. “She can do it.”

  Zoya’s jaw dropped. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  Blanchard shook his head. “Not in the least. Boot third maybe but I watched you step up when it mattered.”

  Trask nodded. “I can see that.” He looked at Natalya. “You and I need to chat about staffing levels.”

  “Me?” Natalya said.

  “It was your idea.”

  Blanchard grinned. “Josh?”

  Lyons shrank a little into the seat. “Yeah?”

  “Good going,” he said. “When you get back to Dark Knight, think about seeing somebody.”

  “About the booze?”

  He shook his head. “About the other thing.”

  Lyons started and stared at Blanchard. “You know?”

  Blanchard shrugged. “My job.”

  Lyons frowned and glanced at Trask, then Natalya. He nodded. “Yeah. Will do.”

  Blanchard’s tablet bipped. He pulled it up and looked at it. “Time,” he said. “Thanks, Skipper. It’s been an honor sailing with you. Ms. Regyri, Ms. Usoko. Keep doing what you’re doing.”

  “Wait,” Natalya said. “What did Pritchard think he was going to accomplish by taking the parts out in a ship that can’t jump?”

  “A fast packet has been hanging around the L2 point. It’s registered to a shell company over in Tellicheri. It jumped out of the system just after we grabbed Pritchard.”

  “That was dumb,” Zoya said. “Coming back with the goods.”

  Blanchard smiled. “Yes. It was. He had a shuttle ready to take him and his goods off last night, but the shuttle pilot got cold feet at the last minute. He had to improvise. Lucky for us he picked the wrong people to mess with.” He nodded to the captain. “I’ll show myself out.” He slipped out of the cabin and latched the door behind him.

  Trask looked around. “Well, this is awkward,” he said. “Not enough crew to actually get underway and we can’t stay very much longer.”

  Zoya grinned. “I think we just got carte blanche from TIC.”

  “At least Enforcement,” Natalya said. “Inspection and Certification might still give us trouble.”

  “Mr. Lyons, how are you feeling?” Trask asked.

  Lyons blinked several times and rotated his head around on his neck a bit. “A bit boggled, Captain.”

  “Can I lean on you a bit?” Trask looked at Natalya and Zoya in turn. “All of you, actually. I need you to take OD watches while we get the crew established and the repairs done.” He smiled at Zoya. “Ms. Usoko here gets them by virtue of being in Deck Division and Ms. Regyri has had her trial by fire.” He looked at Lyons again. “Normally I wouldn’t ask a Cargo officer to stand OD because we’d have enough Deck officers to cover.” He spread his hands to indicate the small group gathered. “We’re a bit short at the moment.”

  Lyons nodded. “If you think I can do it, Captain? Sure.” He paused and looked at his hands. “I think I’d like that, actually.”

  “No pressure, Mr. Lyons. You’re the senior officer here behind me and I’ve seen you rise to the occasion helping Ms. Regyri.”

  “You’d trust a drunk?” Lyons asked, a red flush climbing up his neck.

  Trask pressed his palms against the top of his desk and stared at the backs of his hands for several long moments before looking up. “No, Mr. Lyons, but I trust you.”

  Lyons swallowed hard and nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

  Trask looked at Zoya. “Would you run up a watch schedule for OD and brow watches? Put the four of us on rotation, eight on, twenty-four off?”

  “Of course, Captain.”

  “Take anybody you have left in Deck Division for brow watch. Same schedule. I think we still have four people?” His grin looked a bit grim.

  Zoya nodded. “We’ll have to move up an ordinary spacer, I think.”

  “We just need a warm body at the front door,” Trask said.

  “Will do, Captain.”

  Trask looked at Natalya. “You’ve got Knowles and his team on environmental. They’re not standing watches, as I understand it?”

  “That’s my understanding as well, Captain,” Natalya said.

  “Don’t mess with success, but I need engineering to take over the fire-watch details.”

  Natalya nodded. “I’ll get some of the gang to run them every couple of hours. We’ve got a few wipers who can contribute. We should have been doing it all along.”

  “Thanks, Ms. Regyri. We’ve had a rather loose organization
aboard and the transition may be a bit rough, but I think we need to tighten this up so we don’t wind up with people who feel like they’re not important.” He looked at Lyons with a sad smile. “Or people who feel like they’re carrying the whole load.”

  Zoya said, “I think we can balance that out a bit, Captain.”

  “I know we can, Ms. Usoko.” He looked around at each of them. “Anything else?”

  “Can we start training some of the crew to actually have the ratings we’re pretending they do?” Natalya asked. “I don’t doubt they’re capable with what they know, but getting them up to speed with what the CPJCT thinks they should know will help all of us.”

  “You’re not thinking we’re going legit, I hope?” Trask asked.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it, Skipper.”

  “Then sure. If they want to. You can be training officer.” His grin bordered on evil.

  Zoya chuckled. “You know better, Nats.”

  Natalya sighed. “Outsmarted myself,” she said.

  “If there’s nothing else?” Trask looked around and paused for a heartbeat. “Then let’s get this ship ready to go. Mr. Kondur needs this can of milk and I, for one, want to get home.”

  Chapter 53

  Dark Knight Station: 2363, September 15

  Natalya’s tablet bipped with a summons to the wardroom. She’d barely secured from docking and still had to finish packing her grav-trunk. With the voyage over and the new crew settling in, she really just wanted to get back to the Peregrine to make sure the ship was still there.

  She sighed and tossed a roll of boxers into her trunk before heading out. She met Zoya in the passageway outside. “You, too?” She held up her tablet and gave it a little shake.

  “Wardroom? Yeah. Any idea what it’s about?” Zoya asked.

  “You were on the bridge with the skipper. I haven’t seen him since breakfast.”

  Zoya laughed. “You know Trask.”

  “Never use two words when a grunt will do,” Natalya said.

  Zoya laughed again.

  The passages seemed deserted after the six weeks of having a nearly full crew aboard. Natalya wondered if she’d miss the give-and-take of shipboard life with a full crew when she got back to her scout. She smiled, remembering the recruiting effort to bring the ship’s complement up to snuff. She still couldn’t believe she’d found a chief engineer who wanted a berth on a Toe-Hold ship. The woman’s name still tickled her brain. She knew it from somewhere, but couldn’t remember where.