Spinward Fringe Broadcast 6: Fragments

by Randolph Lalonde

  He took her shaking hands in one of his and wiped tears away with the other. “It’s going to be all right.”

  “S-sorry, I should be happy. Crewcast said she was an orphan.”

  He guessed she meant Zoe, who was in the arms of another adoptive mother in a loose hem dress over Ashley’s shoulder. “Children don’t forget us easily. She’ll know you whenever she sees you. Take it from someone with nieces and nephews who grow up while he’s away for months at a time.”

  Ashley’s shuddering sigh was an attempt at relief, a failed one. He tilted her chin up so he could look her full in the face. “It’s going to be all right,” he repeated.

  Her dark brown eyes averted his, rolling away and finally closing. “Everything’s been changing for so long, I wish it would just stop. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, where I’m supposed to be,” she wheezed.

  Before his eyes Ashley was only getting worse. Her despair was becoming panic, and she was starting to hyperventilate. He’d seen someone fall apart before, when he was delivering the news that someone’s son, their child had died under his command. It didn’t matter how old the serviceman was, it was still a mother’s child, or a father’s son. Ashley was mourning something else, but it was just as damaging. Relentless uncertainty damaged people, it was something he knew, and he’d watched his mother suffer through it while his father as well as both grandparents served the Freeground military. His mother was committed for several weeks after his grandmother didn’t return from a tour. That was the beginning of Oz’s teenage years, when his grandfather retired from his term of service, and when he went to live with him.

  It was a sequence of events that changed him forever, and for a long time it seemed like he was on unsteady ground. He reacted by rebelling, but the young woman in front of him was taking it differently. She was taking it exactly the same way his mother did. He pulled her into his arms and held her tightly.

  “Ashley?” asked Liam Grady as he came around the rear of the Uriel fighter.

  Oz was rarely so relieved to see anyone. Neither was Ashley, who gently extracted herself from Oz and practically fell into Liam Grady. He was wearing his robes over a thick, armoured vacsuit, and they closed around her like a blanket. “It’s all right. We’ll be off soon and onto solid ground,” he reassured her. “I hear the moon we’re heading for boasts a few beaches.”

  Oz made eye contact with him and mouthed; “what about engineering?”

  Chief Grady silently replied; “all set.”

  The woman who Zoe had been so desperate to reunite herself with came around the rear of the fighter with the toddler in her arms. As soon as the blonde youngster saw Ashley she reached for her, and Ashley did her best to wipe her tears and straighten herself up at a moment’s notice.

  “I’m Vivian, and I see you met Zoe,” presented the newcomer. “Thank you for taking care of her, I was frantic when I realized she ran back to the infirmary. The Botanical Gallery was closed off when we realized.”

  Zoe patted Ashley’s face and smiled. “She’s very special,” Ashley sniffed. “Kept me company while I piloted the ship.”

  “I adopted three from Pandem. Zoe’s the youngest, but she still runs circles around the others, they’re only human, after all.”

  The scene was deeply touching, but more importantly, it was bringing the emotional storm Ashley was suffering through under control. Oz was more than relieved. They didn’t have enough pilots to get the last of their fighters off the deck as it was, losing her would mean one less pair of wings, and it would demoralize many survivors. Ashley was well liked, and people would share in whatever sadness she presented.

  “What’s going to happen to us?” asked Vivian quietly.

  “We’re headed to a land base that our command crew have established,” Jason said as he came into view. “They’re going to make room for everyone, and we’re taking equipment and supplies with us.”

  “Why are we leaving?” she asked.

  “Triton is going to be inspected and serviced so we can register her with the Carthans,” he replied smoothly. There was no hesitation or change in his mannerisms as Jason delivered the outright lie. “We could be off ship for a few days, or it could be a couple months. We took a lot of damage. But on the brighter side we’ll have a lot of time on a terraformed moon.”

  “Thank God, I might get a good night’s sleep.”

  “Sorry to break things up, but if you could group up with a few people you know over there, and help take charge of the kids we can start organizing things so we can get settled down there as soon as possible.”

  Oz watched Ashley as she planted a great big kiss on the top of Zoe’s head before waving and grinning at her. “See you soon Zoe!”

  The youngster squeaked; “Bye!” as she was carried off towards the growing crowd of civilians. A young boy and girl watched wide eyed as they waited for Vivian to rejoin them.

  “I’ll be okay,” Ashley whispered to Chief Grady. “Sorry I cracked up.”

  “Don’t worry, I have three sisters. Freak outs like that used to happen weekly,” Oz reassured with a big toothy grin. “I have battle scars.”

  “Ohmigosh,” she snorted.

  She was a creature of emotional extremes. It might have been one of the reasons why he liked her, since two of his sisters were the same. As much as he wanted to spend time getting to know her a little better, the sight of the Clever Dream’s main debarkation ramp lowering reminded him that they were in the middle of a crisis. “First round’s on you when we manage to find a port tavern.” He said as he walked past her.

  “Can’t wait to deliver on that,” she replied.

  Jason was right on his heels. “This is like watching a star liner crash in slow motion. There’s enough firepower to vaporize the ship four times over pointed at us, and those armed transports haven’t even opened their inner airlock doors yet so we don’t know what kind of force they’re about to put on our deck,” Jason whispered irritably. “Any ideas cross your mind?”

  Oz stopped a few meters away from the bottom of the Clever Dream’s debarkation ramp and watched Ayan, who was dressed in vacsuit with no extra armour. She wasn’t even carrying a sidearm, but her stoic expression and forceful march was enough to inform everyone who saw her that she was there with a purpose. Fourteen Triton troops in the heaviest armour available followed her in a double column.

  “Someone was listening during the psyche portion of Officer Candidate Training,” Jason muttered.

  “Your wife is waiting for you inside,” Ayan told Jason. “She’s missed you.”

  “It’s mutual. I’m going to copy the data from the destroyer into the Clever Dream’s computer just in case. I’ll be watching from there.” Jason nodded and headed inside.

  “I hope things are going better down there.”

  Ayan gave him a warning glance that told him everything he needed to know about the conditions of their destination. It was so quick, and so close that only someone watching a close up on a surveillance feed would have caught it. “I’m just glad to see you safe and sound. Had some trouble staying that way though,” she plucked at one of the thinner parts of his vacsuit, where it had patched itself after he caught a round in the stomach.

  “It’s been a hard ride.” Oz couldn’t help but notice that one of the guards in the middle of the group had a Spectral Dynamics Violator handgun in his holster, the favoured weapon of Jacob Valance. Other than that, there was no way to tell him apart.

  “Have you met the locals?”

  “I’ think we’re about to. You probably know more about this government than I do at this point, I think I’ll follow your lead.” He gestured towards the broad rear airlocks at the rear of the hangar. They were finally all open, and several military crew people were emerging. They wore grey and light blue uniforms, of an older style, but it was plain to see that they had a protective lining built in that would serve just as well as any basic vacsuit.

  “Then fall in, Command
er.” Ayan said with a crooked smile.

  He fell in with the rest of the security detail beside Jacob, who gestured for him to pass into the middle of the detail. He was surrounded by guards.

  At first the glances and stares that greeted Ayan were tinged with smiles, but there must have been something in Ayan’s expression that conveyed the seriousness of her purpose. Oz only wished he could see it. “Who is the commanding officer here?” She asked clearly and calmly. She had the attitude of someone who didn’t have to yell, didn’t have to demand, but expected that all her questions would be answered.

  “I’m Fleet Warden Kimberly Harrison,” a woman with short cropped blonde hair said. She was thin and tall. “And you are?”

  “Ayan, Commander of the Triton, Clever Dream and owner of a privateering fleet currently surrounding this ship. Why have you demanded that my people abandon ship?”

  “Ownership of the Triton is being contested by a former Captain. He claims that it was pirated a short time ago. Do you have a warrant or order to repossess that could counter the claim?”

  “Produce the accuser and I may consider your charge valid,” Ayan retorted casually.

  The Fleet Warden turned towards the airlock behind her and nodded. One of her men shouted; “Captain, you’ve been requested.”

  Oz watched the dark, plush interior of the armed transport over Ayan’s shoulder. He could hear someone walking slowly down the aisle towards the airlock opening. First came the Freeground style, dark military boots. It was said that Freeground combat boots were made so well that when a pair of structural engineers were struck full on by a solar flash, they were identified by the serial numbers on their soles. The hem of a dark imitation trench runner’s long coat followed. It was made in the style of the type old Earth infantry once wore during an almost forgotten war. It was made to deflect most projectiles of the day, and to serve as a blanket during long nights in the post nuclear war trenches.

  Oz’s stomach tightened in a knot, and he made a conscious decision that was counter to his greatest desire. A silent step placed him at the side of the man who was carrying a Violator handgun. He recognized Lucious Wheeler at the sight of his jaw line and, just like he’d seen in footage of Jacob Valance’s bounty hunting days, Oz made sure his hand was pressing down on the hilt of the other man’s sidearm before Jake could draw.

  He beat him by a split second, and when Jake’s blackened visor, adorned with the blood red skull mark of the Triton boarding team, looked at him, his heart jumped. In that moment he was grateful he couldn’t see Jacob Valance’s bare face.

  Ayan was more composed, and cleared her throat loudly. She couldn’t keep her eyebrows clear of a scowl, but the rest of her face was surprisingly passive. “Secure arms,” she said flatly.

  “You wouldn’t want to kill a Carthan asset, now would you?” Lucious Wheeler said as he stopped at the inner door of the airlock. “Ayan, I see you’ve made some changes. Too bad you’ve lost your figure. Any chance I’ll get to meet your better half? I see his First Officer here, he can’t be far off.”

  Flushing involuntarily from the barb, Ayan ignored Wheeler entirely. “Fleet Warden, this man is not to be trusted. He was an ally of Vindyne, a subsidiary of Regent Galactic. He’s also not the original Lucious Wheeler, who was killed aboard. If the original Lucious Wheeler were here, I’d advise that you arrest him, because he stole this ship from the Sol Defence fleet. He has no claim to this ship, whereas the Aucharian government recognized the Triton as a war time capture and registered it under Jacob Valance. He then made myself and Terry Ozark McPatrick Commanders under him. In his absence, legal ownership in the nearest sector falls to us.”

  “I’m afraid that’s not something that will be decided here, Commander Rice.”

  “They know all about all my associations, darlin’. I’ve traded my way to their side, and Triton’s a part of that sweet deal, so it’s time to hand over the command codes.”

  “Making this personal won’t help anyone Wheeler,” chastised Fleet Warden Harrison. “I’m afraid he’s right, however. I’m here to take possession, and I’ll need the command codes.”

  Ayan looked her straight in the eye. “Never,” she said so quietly that Oz had to strain to hear her. “You can remove us from this ship, but you’ll never get the command codes. You’ll also be rushing hundreds of people from their homes aboard this ship, people who are armed, and will be painfully aware that the Carthan government traded their home in a dirty deal with the enemy. We don’t have room for them all on the ground, and they’ll rally. They’ll gather around someone who doesn’t hesitate when it comes to fighting a corrupt government.”

  “You mean Jonas Valent,” Wheeler interjected.

  “I’ve never met a man by that name on this ship,” she enunciated coldly.

  “You’re not getting this ship for free, either.” Her attention focused on the Fleet Warden, whose eyes had narrowed, and jaw had set. “If you’re forcing us to abandon Triton, it’s going to cost you dearly. That is, unless you’re willing to do the intelligent thing and turn this stray out. Whatever information he’s offering you is tainted, I’m certain of it.”

  “The Defence Minister himself brokered this deal, Commander… Ayan. Your people are going to have to leave within the time allotted or we will use force.”

  The pair locked eyes for a long moment. Oz watched them closely, keeping Wheeler, whose smile was fading slowly, in his peripheral. Jake had relaxed, and Oz let go of the man’s sidearm, trusting that his long time friend would let Ayan handle the situation.

  “We’ll leave peacefully, consider it a gift. I’ll expect you to offer us a fair trade for Triton’s value.”

  “Without command codes.”

  “With consideration to the hardship you are forcing on her crew, the civilians we were protecting and our passengers. You’ll compensate us or we’ll take whatever I decide is fair value for this ship using other methods.”

  “Was that a threat? I can have your licences and permits revoked.”

  “You won’t.” Ayan said conversationally. “If you cancel all your beaurocratic strings we’ll have no reason to do anything your way. Besides, you need people like us to fight this war our way, because if you’re employing people like Wheeler, you’re going to lose.”

  “They don’t owe you anything for this ship. It was never yours. Now give me the command codes,” Wheeler growled.

  Ayan didn’t so much as acknowledge him. Instead she calmly stated; “I expect you to transmit your compensation proposal for the full value of this vessel by the time we land on Tamber.”

  “What about renegotiating the terms of your privateering licence? I’m sure we can make some adjustments for you.” replied the Fleet Warden.

  “What? These people are nothing! You can’t be considering accommodation!” Wheeler objected.

  Oz watched as Ayan proved to him and everyone else there that she had passed from being an intelligent young woman to a great lady. “I expect to be vastly impressed. You had better include land grants, and don’t leave out the signing bonus.”

  “I’m telling you these people are just squatters and mercenaries. I bet you Valent is right behind her. If you order them to show you their faces you can capture him and present him for trial yourselves,” Wheeler ranted.

  Instead of letting her temper get the better of her she smiled, held her head high and turned back towards the Clever Dream. Her squad of guardsmen began to turn to follow her until Oz watched Jake raise his hand slowly. Instead of stopping him Oz followed his lead. Jake’s fist formed into a finger pointed at Wheeler. The thirteen other guardsmen and women followed suit, and for a long moment they all pointed at Lucious Wheeler.

  “There! As if you need more evidence!” Lucious shouted.

  Other crewmen and women who saw the gesture followed suit, their eyes cold. The hate was so thick in the air Oz found himself breathing more heavily, wondering if he could get a kill shot off and run for cover before
the Fleet Warden’s people could return fire. Wheeler backed away until he was out of sight.

  Jacob Valance led the group as they turned and followed Ayan back to the Clever Dream.

  “What are our options, Jason?” Jake asked as he reached the inner leisure compartment of the Clever Dream. The false portholes brightly displayed the active hangar. The Fleet Warden and her people retreated. They were replaced by several squads of Carthan soldiers, who marched to the far end of the hangar and remained there in formation. It was a form of showing a presence, and after a few minutes no one so much as looked at them. Civilian refugees and the former slaves that were too weary to help were gathered to one side of the docking bay near the only working cargo elevator. Everywhere else you looked, people were loading equipment and supplies into crates, piling cases and bags, or working to get things into position. Paula had managed to direct what was left of her deck crew to hand crank two Uriel fighters down from the racks along the side of the hangar, leaving two more hanging near the ceiling. She and a few of her more practised deck hands were desperately trying to keep things organized.

  Ayan, Jason, Laura and Minh-Chu were all gathered around the table at the centre of the lavish entertainment compartment inside the Clever Dream. The holographic display system was hard at work showing different profiles, criminal charge listings, and legal reference material. Oz was hot on Jake’s heels, the rest of the guards had remained on the lower deck of the Clever Dream, ready to mount a defence or help load supplies.

  “Legally, this is a huge mess. I’ve already filed a claim on the Triton in Ayan’s name, but they’ll reject it, she didn’t have her privateering licence at the time of capture and I fulfilled my due diligence, which in this case is finding out if Sol Defence has reported the Triton stolen or issued an order for its recapture.”