Spinward Fringe Broadcast 6: Fragments

by Randolph Lalonde

  "That’s what’s really interesting about this place, a lot of people think they can get the advantage here, and there are a lot of opportunities. War's on, lass. Looks like there will be even more comin' before the year is out and the Carthans have a good chance to come through all right, or at least fight for a few decades. This is the front, especially if the rumours about the Confederation siding with the Order is true. Put that in along side with their deep pockets and you've got every jack of all trades, pirate and merc looking for work and finding it. Any merc can get work here, even a guy like me, who wouldn’t know which end of a rifle to hold. Head towards the core worlds and you'll find nothing but desperate people who can't wipe their own ass without an AI to give directions. Go further out and you'll probably get ambushed by slavers, pirates or AI ships that killed their crews and think they're part of the Eden Fleet. I bet you've already seen it."

  “I'm afraid so.”

  “Sorry to hear that, miss. Whereabouts did your ship run into trouble?”

  “Some mining facility down spin from here. Didn't stay long enough to make it worth naming,” Ayan answered carefully. She'd been around Jason enough to know that she shouldn't give too much information without being sure of how it would be used. “We need a base of operations while we sort things out and make repairs.”

  "Are you sure about taking a slip here?" Victor asked Ayan in a whisper.

  "You think it's a bad idea?"

  "I think it's a great idea, I'd be willing to raise my rifle and keep us safe too, but it's not up to me. You and-"

  Ayan gave him a warning look, she didn't want to hear Jake's name aloud, or have anyone hear that there was another authority above her, especially in front of a cabbie who seemed to enjoy sharing information.

  "You and the rest of the senior officers."

  "I'd second the idea of securing space before we return to our ships, even though it looks like a disaster," Laura agreed. She was staring at a group of mag cycles making their way across the black and light blue mixed sand road just ahead. There were a dozen or more, and they snaked through the streets at a great speed, despite the fact that the riders seemed relaxed, riding at leisure one or two per vehicle.

  "Like those? They were popular where I come from. Gangs loved them, hard to track on planetary sensors because they ride so low to the ground," Jenny commented with a smile. "And they're fast."

  "They look dangerous."

  "We called them skids, but I think those are the larger mag cycles. They're good for hauling ground transport."

  "Still, looks dangerous. I mean, what's the point of being so close to the ground while you're moving so quickly? You're bound to collide with something."

  "That's the thrill; you have to ride one to know it though. Not that I've tried, I prefer my go-betweens to have all sides covered," said the cabby over his shoulder as he pitched the vehicle down towards a side street. "Lots of people use 'em here though. Bike like that costs next to nothing used, and takes a beating like a heavy fighter. Good to have around if you're just bouncin' from one place to another, though I shouldn't say that, or you won't be calling someone like me back."

  "Speaking of which, what's your ident so we can get you back here when we're done?" Ayan asked.

  "Already sent it to your data unit there, just give me a buzz when all your business is sorted. Good luck." The shuttle touched down lightly and the doors opened as Ayan passed him a twenty-five GC coin. He gave her three fives back.

  "Thank you for the safe ride," She smiled.

  "My pleasure, lass. Grace like yours is always welcome in my cab."

  “One more thing, can you tell me anything about the people who do business on this slip?” Ayan asked as everyone else was making their way off the shuttle.

  The cabbie glanced over her shoulder; “This slip is just a storefront where a few Captains park, no one here actually owns anything except for maybe their own ship. The folks who trade here are selling someone else’s merchandise, probably set you up with a good deal. Lots of captured product comes through here, no knowing where it’s from and that’s the point of places like this. Most of the folks on this slip are British types from the Outer Core, I thought you knew 'em already, because of your accent.”

  “I'm afraid not.”

  “Well, treat 'em like any other Captains or merchants, with respect. Keep your eyes and ears open, don't ask too many questions and don't let them know where you keep your valuables.”

  “Are they a good sort?”

  “They're no worse than the rest.” Ayan was just about to walk off when the nafalli called after her in a whisper. “Just wondering; is everything they saying about you true? You took Valance’s operation over?” She didn’t know how to answer, but he must have discerned something from her expression, because his eyes went wide. “So he’s here, isn’t he?” he said in a hush.

  “You’d know if he were here. As for who might be in charge, you need look no further,” Ayan said with a wink before turning her back to him.

  The worn twelve person shuttle lifted off straight away, gaining a few meters of altitude before accelerating into an extreme upward curve. "I think I'll tell Jake to check cab companies if he ever needs more pilots. He was tracking at least two dozen other shuttles and God knows what else up there and it looked like it was as routine as brushing his hair," Laura said as she watched the old people mover disappear into the overhead traffic.

  "There's nothing routine about grooming for a nafalli, except that they're always grooming," countered Victor.

  "You have a point."

  Ayan looked at the old, crooked metal archway ahead of them. There was a thick bodied five deck ship filling the centre of the circular landing pad. Layers of armour were piled onto some sections of the ship, and she could see where at least three gunnery turrets had been built into the vessel after her initial manufacture. The thing was nearly two hundred meters long with clamps along the bottom of her hull, giving her the look of some fat, misshapen cockroach.

  The walls of the docking space were obscured by hundreds of stacked transport containers. Some had been welded together to form permanent multi storey warehouses. Metal stairs had been added, and she could see at least a dozen brand names that were absolutely foreign to her, and pictures of all kinds of products.

  Several of the containers were marked SPACERWARES, the only brand name she recognized. Seeing it made her feel a little less dubious about dealing with the seller, "Looks like at least some of these people steal from Regent Galactic. I feel better about this already," Ayan commented.

  "Regent Galactic owns Spacerwares? I love that store, it's like heaven for, well, spacers." replied Jenny, disappointed.

  Two guards stepped out from the sides of the archway as the groups started walking towards it. They brandished heavy rifles, wore thick, mismatched armour and had slicked hair and grimy, greasy skin.

  "What's your business here?" The taller of the two asked in a thick British accent.

  Ayan pulled out the bulletin listing and held it out. "I'm looking to buy some food and supplies if you have them."

  "You've come to the right place then, miss. I'll call Captain Sima straight away." He half turned and shouted; "Oi! Skipper! We've got customer!"

  Ayan couldn't help but be reminded of the British holomovies she'd seen growing up. She couldn't get enough of them, holomovies, documentaries, anything she could get her hands on. Before her teen years she was close to her mother, so close that she'd picked up her accent, what some of the British called the aristocratic version of their accent, clean and clear. Ayan preferred more of a colourful, charming, street born accent, but when she used it everyone stared, especially when she did so in jest. When she was younger she had difficulty understanding why people were amused by the way she spoke. To Ayan everyone but her and her mother had accents.

  It was her first time meeting someone who used such a bent, localized accent, and when she saw the Captain come down in brown trousers,
a long sleeved shirt, dark brown vest and short cropped violet hair Ayan was surprised at how young she looked. By her best estimation, she couldn’t be more than twenty.

  The woman had all the markings of one born of British heritage, in fact, many of her crew were the same. "We've a sister with us, I see," she smiled as she got to the bottom step, resting her hand on the hilt of her sidearm, a silvered heavy pistol.

  Ayan stepped forward and offered her hand. "Ayan Rice, of the Clever Dream."

  "Can’t say I’m unawares of you setting down on this watery rock, the newsies mixed you right in with the rest of the chatter and gab. Surprised you’re standing here though. Your people still stuck in the Dower Wastes?"

  "Unfortunately. We haven’t found an alternative yet."

  "I'm Captain Ruby Sima, good to meet someone else who's fighting for the right side. Keep out of the gutter politics around here and you should do fine if your people are as well armed as that fleet of yours. What can I do for you?"

  "I'm looking for a new place to set down and need to stock up on food and some extra survival gear, do you have anything?"

  "Food, gear, I can help you with, but I don’t own any of the slips here, just a renter myself. I might be able to get you in touch with someone who’d be pleased to deal. Let’s start with what I can provide. What sort of food are you pressed to buy?"

  "Well, we have a food processing unit that can work with base form proteins and we could use some pre-made stuff."

  "Like meal bars and the like?" She asked.

  "Exactly," Ayan smiled.

  "You have credit or cash?"

  "I have a few GC with me."

  Captain Sima eyed Ayan's messenger bag and a smile grew on her face. "We've got business then, don't we? Let's start with the supplies and then we'll see about somewhere to park."

  The tour of what Captain Sima had to offer was like walking through a bulk store. If Ayan wasn't pressed for time she would have listened to her go through the entire stock, but there were over a hundred shipping containers, and the state of things in the Dower Wastes was never far from her thoughts. She had bartered before, but this was different. This wasn't striking a deal for some keepsake during leave. It was food and essentials with the potential for finding a safer place for everyone. They needed a place to find their feet, especially since she couldn't know what condition the Triton would be in when it returned, if it returned.

  If they were stuck with the materializers in their comm units and the ones in the Clever Dream they would find themselves desperate before long. The materializers would eventually need repair, and they simply didn't have the parts. If they had significant power problems they'd run out of food even faster. Minutes were passing, and though Ayan was enjoying her time exploring, there were people waiting. Too many people.

  Captain Sima was a great sales person. She focused on what Ayan had asked for first, food. The Captain had raw stocks and the processors for them as well as dehydrated stock, fresh fruit, vegetables and vat grown meat. The storage containers they were in would keep them fresh for decades, but without a galley or a large clean environment for food preparation, there was no way Ayan would buy a single crate of the cultivated foods.

  Ayan managed to nab four tons of raw food stock and Captain Sima was kind enough to throw in two portable processors that would change the flavour and consistency of the material into a few hundred different dishes, hot or cold. She also purchased a ton of meal bars and that settled their food problems for the time being. It was obvious that the Captain was trying to sell her wares first, since she guided them to specific sections of the makeshift warehouse. She was careful not to put down any of the goods they passed, however.

  When it came to survival gear, there was a problem. It was all too expensive, even in quantity. After going through the entire list of equipment, which included everything from shovels to an entire portable bunker, and finding nothing that was within their means, Captain Sima nodded and said; "I'll leave you lot alone to discuss things a minute while I tell my Bosun what's what with the food order and make a call."

  Ayan, Laura, Victor and Jenny watched her swagger away and down a steel stairway then turned towards each other. "So we have the food, that's something." Laura said.

  "Eighty four thousand credits worth. The portable shelters and other survival gear are expensive though, there's got to be something we can do to get all the essentials with the cash we have," Ayan replied. “We might not have anything left to barter for landing space with if we buy temporary shelters though.”

  "Well, at the price she's offering we can afford about a hundred four-man shelters with environment units built in, but that's no where near enough if we want to perform extensive repairs on our ships." The portable shelter fit in a half a meter by fifteen centimetres thick box. Laura carefully put it back into the case with the rest of them.

  "I checked the exchange, if we had come along two months ago with the same money we'd probably be able to buy half of everything here. The cost of food and survival gear are up, big time," Jenny said quietly.

  "I know," Ayan said pensively. "We can't do anything about that now though. We have to work within our means."

  Laura looked down then back up to Ayan with a grin. "I wonder what her shipping containers are worth?"

  "Well, I assume we might get one with the food we ordered, so that one might be built into the price."

  "What if we bought an extra one or two? It's not like they have to have systems built in, we can rig survival machinery, and we can pick up the containers if we have to move them later with at least one of the ships we commandeered in the Ossimi Ring."

  Ayan smiled and nodded. "I bet she has an extra or two." She looked for the Captain but saw one of her men instead. "Can you get on comms and fetch the Captain, please?" Ayan asked sweetly.

  "Skipper!" The crewman hollered. "They're ready to close the deal!"

  Captain Sima came up the stairs a few minutes later. "Figured a few things out?"

  "We may have," Ayan said with a winning smile. "We're wondering what the going rate for empty shipping containers is."

  "Not much, free if you have a ship with a hauler hitch and you're fast enough to pick one up before the junk yard scavengers get to 'em."

  "I'll pay you to help us get a couple, how does that sound?"

  Captain Stills looked over her shoulder to a much smaller ship with four swivelling engines and a great claw underneath that looked like the Samson's maxjack then back to the foursome. "You have a deal, miss."

  "I was also wondering about that landing space. I need to move my people today."

  "I’ll be level with you on this, since I bet it’ll go far with you. Most Port Masters are right pricks when it comes to setting people up, charging too much and double crossing. I checked with the more trustworthy kind and one of them fancies a meet with you, Captain Patrizia Salustri-“ Ayan heard Victor inhale sharply at the mention of the name and pretend as though he looking at something in the darkened warehouse.

  “Heard of her?” Captain Sima asked with a crooked smile. “Where you hail from?”

  “Pandem,” he replied quietly.

  “Then you would have. Well, she wants a sit down with you. Good luck there too, she owns more slips than most, and if she wants to see you then she already has a deal in mind. Just don’t tell anyone I sent you her way, or there could be trouble.”

  “Why not?” asked Ayan, she had to know.

  “I rent from a competitor, that’s why. He’d be fair vexed if he found out you were standing right here and I passed you off without so much as looking at his ident.”

  “Then I won’t say anything.”

  “Good. When you strike a deal with Salustri, remember who got you in the door.”

  “I will, thank you Ruby,” Ayan said, shaking her hand.

  “You settle up with my man here, I’ll make sure there’s someone to meet her shuttle when it arrives.”

  Chapter 24


  The Command Deck

  Five meters from the express car was the rearguard of the command deck's assault force. There weren't dozens, but hundreds of soldiers dedicated to the effort of taking the command deck and the bridge. From everything Major Cumberland could discern, they had come at it the wrong way. "We're on deck and awaiting orders," he double checked his reticule to find the commanding officer's name. "Commander DeHansen," he finished.

  "This is Commander DeHansen, my Senior Sergeants are all on the casualty list. I've taken direct command of operations. I'm assigning you as the senior officer to everyone you arrived with. You are to secure the hallways leading to the primary engagement area and reinforce us."

  Major Cumberland couldn't help but glance over his shoulder at the thirty-one men and women who made it off the upper deck with him. Three had lost their rifles and were down to their service side arms. He didn't want to know how it happened. "Understood, moving up. So you are aware, my comms and scanner people are all out of action."

  "No problem, we've got the whole place scanned out, you're just taking a quick gander before joining the fray."

  The few rooms adjacent to the hallway were cleared quickly. They were small ready quarters, offices and conference rooms. A few had consoles that looked like they had been used as some kind of control room, but it, like every other nerve centre on the ship, was dark and dormant. It took him only a couple rooms to see that each of them had been investigated by several teams beforehand, but the Commander obviously thought checking them periodically was essential to keeping the enemy off their backs while they pressed ahead.

  After clearing two dozen such spaces they came around a corner and saw the first real evidence that their allies had a significant foothold on the ship. It was a portable armoured barricade that sealed the hallway. Welded into place, it was almost as secure as a bulkhead door, and upon arrival they were scanned by two officers with hand units before the rearguard slid the barricade doors open. It was closed behind them quickly, as though they feared the wrong air would waft in behind them.