Never Surrender (The Empire's Corps Book 10)

by Christopher Nuttall

  It was nearly an hour before they received a second challenge. “They want to know where we’re going,” Watson said. “I take it they wouldn't be happy with Wolfbane?”

  “They’d want to search us before we entered orbit,” Frazier confirmed. “Send the planned signal, I think.”

  Watson looked at Jasmine, who nodded. “Signal sent,” he said. “Let’s see what sort of wankers they are, shall we?”

  “There’s no choice,” Jasmine said. “But let us pray for lazy wankers.”

  She smiled inwardly, although she knew it wasn't funny. Customs officers, in her experience, were either officious bureaucrats or outright thieves. The former were very good at coming up with legal reasons to levy fines, while the latter tended to take what they liked in exchange for letting the freighter pass through the net. It was something of a marvel that there had been any independent freighters at all; the bigger corporations had the clout to remove particularly unpleasant customs officers, while independents were at their mercy. She had a feeling it was why so many independent freighters had made their way out to the Rim, escaping the Fall of Earth.

  And the Trade Federation will probably prevent any planet from developing its own problem children, she thought. Professor Cassius had gone on about it at length, the last time Jasmine had joined him and his family for dinner. Free Trade will do more to ensure economic growth than anything else.

  She sighed, then looked at Paula. “What sort of trade policies did Brown have?”

  “He was a corporate rat,” Stubbins growled, before Paula could say a word. “I don't think he ever did anything unless it was in the interests of the corporations.”

  “There’s a small tax on everything imported to Wolfbane,” Frazier said, unexpectedly. “But there aren't any taxes on anything exported. I was never sure why.”

  “Economics,” Paula said. She looked irked. “The Governor wants Wolfbane to be the sole source of everything from starship components to weapons, at least in this sector. By not taxing exports, he provides incentives to export goods ... and keep the prices relatively low, thus making it hard for any other planet to compete. Once he has a monopoly, he can jerk around with the prices at will, keeping people in line without any need for military force.”

  Jasmine blinked in surprise. “He can't expect that to work!”

  “It can and it does,” Paula said. “People find it easy to define why military threats should be resisted, but it’s a great deal harder to explain to one’s population why they shouldn't have access to cheap goods. Wolfbane has a head start on the rest of the sector, allowing it to produce much more far cheaper than anywhere else. Given time, they can flood the market and utterly destroy competition.”

  “Well,” Watson said, into the silence. “I never thought of it like that.”

  “You were trained to apply naked force in the interests of whatever policy your ultimate superiors believed to be necessary,” Paula said. “Governor Brown’s sphere, however, is economics. He thinks in terms of applying pressure rather than naked force.”

  “He was prepared to invade the Commonwealth,” Jasmine said.

  “I suspect he thought of you as a long-term threat,” Paula said. “Besides, grinding you down might make you more willing to dicker with him on his terms.”

  She opened her mouth, then paused as the console bleeped. “They're telling us that we will be intercepted before we reach our destination,” Watson said. “We’re going to be searched.”

  “That tears it,” Stewart muttered.

  “Not quite,” Jasmine said. She glanced at the console, silently calculating the trajectories and the timing in her head. “We planned for this, didn't we? And we have at least three hours before the inspection crew gets here.”

  She rose to her feet and smiled. “Let’s get to work,” she added. “I want to be nothing more than a harmless freighter by the time the bastards arrive.”

  “Better have a bribe ready too,” Frazier added. “They may think nothing of ordering us to report for a more thorough search in the shipyard if we don’t offer them a fairly substantial bribe.”

  Jasmine nodded. It all depended on just how paranoid the Wolves were feeling. There should be nothing to connect their freighter with the one that had gone to Meridian - Passing Water was one of thousands - but if they were paranoid enough to insist on DNA tests, the crew would be in hot water. The Wolves had taken DNA readings from the POWs before shipping them to Meridian - she assumed they had records for Stubbins, Paula and Frazier too - and if they had them included in their datafiles ... she sighed inwardly, then put the thought aside. Even if they had had the gear to spoof such devices, it would have taken longer than they had to re-sequence their DNA before arriving at Wolfbane.

  “Don’t say anything unless asked,” she told Gary and Kailee. The official files stated that they were both trainees, who had bribed someone to be allowed on the ship, but their accents were too hard to change. She'd gone to some trouble to devise a cover story for them, yet she knew it wouldn't hold up under close scrutiny. “And then try and stay out of sight.”

  It was nearly four hours before the customs boat came alongside. Jasmine studied the ship with some interest; it wasn't much bigger than a standard heavy-lift shuttle, but someone had refitted the drive section to give it additional thrust at the expense of comfort. She had a feeling, based on prior experience, that the boat couldn't carry more than thirty crewmen at most; indeed, if they’d automated as much as possible, she might only need one or two crewmen. Indeed, there was no reason why the ship couldn't be largely automatic ...

  Unless they run into trouble, she thought. Or the unions start getting pissy about computers taking jobs from decent hard-working spacers.

  She shook her head. The Empire had tended to use larger ships, but they’d been deliberately designed without a phase drive, ensuring they could never leave their home system under their own power. Wolfbane - and the Commonwealth - considered such designs inefficient. But on the other hand, she had to admit, the reduced drive section gave the ship room for additional weapons and sensor blisters.

  And they were cheaper to build, she recalled, as she strolled down to the airlock. The Empire considered them suitable for system defence as well as customs duties.

  A dull thud echoed through the freighter as the two ships joined docking tubes. The airlock hissed open a moment later, blowing a wave of cool air into the freighter. Jasmine refused to shiver as four men appeared; one clearly old enough to be her father, the others not much older than Carl Watson. Two of them had the pointy noses favoured by the system’s aristocracy, if Stubbins was to be believed. Had they requested this duty because they believed it would be safer than serving in the military?

  “God,” one of the younger ones muttered. “What an ugly bitch.”

  Jasmine pasted a smile on her face and stepped forward. “Welcome to Wandering Soul,” she said, holding out a hand. “I'm Captain Magana.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” the old man said. “I’m Lieutenant Roscoe. If you’ll show us your manifest, we’ll get started.”

  “Of course,” Jasmine said. She pulled the chip from her jacket and held it out to him. He took it and slotted it into his reader, while the younger men glanced around with the air of bored youngsters everywhere. “I think you’ll find we have everything you need.”

  “We’ll be the judges of that,” one of the younger men sneered.

  Jasmine felt a flicker of sympathy for Lieutenant Roscoe. It couldn't be easy riding herd on a trio of brats, particularly well-connected brats who couldn't be disciplined. There was a reason, after all, that any aristocrats who entered Boot Camp were expected to change their names. Roscoe glowered at his nominal subordinates, then glanced back at Jasmine as he released the chip.

  “You have prospective immigrants onboard,” he said. “You’ll have to take them to the planet for decontamination and registry procedures before they can take up any form of employment.”

&nbs
p; “I understand,” Jasmine said. “However, they were intending to seek employment on Prospero.”

  “Should aim for Wolfbane,” Roscoe commented. He didn't sound as if he really cared, or believed what he was saying. Somehow, Jasmine wasn't surprised. People like Roscoe rarely cared about anything beyond their work. “There’s lots of jobs here for those willing to work.”

  He smiled at her, tiredly. “We have to give your ship a brief inspection,” he added. “My men can see to that, while we wait here.”

  Jasmine nodded, hoping that everyone stuck to the plan. If the shit hit the fan ... she knew they could capture or kill all four inspectors, but she wasn't sure what they could do next, apart from try to take the customs ship. And then ... an idea started to gestate in her head as she waited, silently planning out her next move. It was nearly forty minutes before the three inspectors reappeared, looking amused.

  “Nothing to report, sir,” one of them said. “Just a pretty girl who refused to come with us.”

  Jasmine couldn't help another stab of sympathy. She’d been insulted to her face in a more respectful manner.

  “What a smart girl,” Roscoe said. He didn't seem inclined to care. “Thank you, Captain, for your time.”

  He led his subordinates back through the airlock, which slid closed and sealed after him with a sharp bang. Jasmine shook her head in some amusement - the man hadn't even demanded a bribe - and then headed back to the bridge. Kailee was sitting just outside the hatch, looking torn between amusement and irritation.

  “I could have hit him,” she said. “He grabbed my butt and I could have hit him.”

  “Good thing you didn't,” Jasmine said. She understood the impulse, but it would have been disastrous. At best, Kailee would have been beaten and she would have had to stand by and watch. “Just think of it as pulling one over on him.”

  “I know,” Kailee said. She grinned, brightly. “I could have been an actress after all!”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Furthermore, the Empire - by its own logic - was not only the dominant human power, but the only one. All independent states had no right to exist. If they wished to assert their independence, they were rebelling against the sole legitimate power and could be legally crushed.

  - Professor Leo Caesius. The Empire and its Prisoners of War.

  Medusa, Wolfbane System, Year 5 (PE)

  “That’s an asteroid colony?”

  “A mobile one, yes,” Frazier said, as the shuttle headed towards the colony. “What were you expecting?”

  Gary shrugged. He’d seen a mining camp on Meridian, but that had been on the planet’s surface. It had really been nothing more than a hole in the ground, surrounded by a fence and armed guards, while the workers were prisoners paying their debts to society. He’d never really thought about what an asteroid mining station would look like, or how it might function, even though he would have liked to work on one. It would have taken him away from Earth.

  Medusa looked rather like a crude spider, metal legs clinging to the asteroid’s rocky surface while the main body hung above the asteroid, as if it were preparing to start gnawing on the rock. A pair of men in spacesuits were scrambling over the asteroid, which was larger than the entire freighter, while a small craft orbited above them, beaming lights down to the surface. Pieces of rock were pulled free of the surface and launched up towards the spider, which caught them and sucked them into its maw. Gary couldn't help admiring the precision of their movements, even though the whole station looked alarmingly simplistic.

  He looked at Frazier, who was staring at the colony wistfully. “What does it do?”

  “The prospectors suck in ores - everything from simple iron and water to rarer elements like gold, palladium and suchlike - and either refine them themselves or forward the stockpiles to centralised reprocessing facilities,” Frazier said. “You can make a good living if you find enough platinum group metals, enough to pay off your debts and mine without obligations to anyone. I imagine even the Wolves pay considerably over the odds to get uninterrupted supplies to their shipyards.”

  “They probably do,” Jasmine agreed. “I would have thought the large-scale mining programs would be more efficient, though.”

  “Depends what you want,” Frazier said. “You still need to test prospective asteroids for mining prospects before you start work. An independent can do that far more effectively than a bigger corporation. They can also haggle over the price, which helps competition.”

  “I bet the Governor loves that,” Jasmine observed.

  “Probably,” Frazier agreed. “Competition also helps efficiency.”

  Gary sighed inwardly as the shuttle docked with the mining colony. There was a faint hiss as the airlock opened, allowing the colony’s atmosphere to flow into the shuttle. He gagged as the stench of too many unwashed humans greeted him, then swallowed hard to keep himself from vomiting. Frazier looked far too amused at his plight for Gary’s peace of mind.

  “I thought you said these people were clean,” he protested. But then, the freighter hadn't smelled too good either, when they’d boarded the craft. “Why do they smell?”

  “Too much reprocessed air, I fancy,” Frazier said. He paused. “I wouldn't say anything about it if I were you. Not only will you get used to the smell if you don’t think about it, they will regard it as an insult. It’s going to be hard enough to convince them to help without you insulting them to their faces.”

  He led the way through the airlock and, after a moment, Gary followed him, with Jasmine bringing up the rear. The sound of something flapping in the distance caught his ear as he entered the colony, then he blinked in surprise as he saw a young boy standing in front of him, wearing nothing more than a pair of shorts. He couldn't have been any older than eight.

  “Hi,” the boy said. “Dad wants me to bring you to him.”

  “It’s been a while, Brian,” Frazier said gravely. “You were five when I saw you last, I think.”

  Brian nodded, then turned and walked towards a solid metal airlock, which hissed open as he approached. The temperature rose rapidly as they stepped through - Gary felt sweat tickling down his back - suggesting one reason why everyone was scantily-clad. They passed two older boys and a girl, the latter wearing nothing more than a pair of shorts herself; Gary had to remind himself not to stare as they walked past. Public nudity had been unknown on Earth, at least without compulsion, while no one in their right mind went naked on Meridian, when it was easy to get scratched or bitten. The idea of casual public nudity was alien to him - and more than a little disturbing.

  “It’s a different place,” Jasmine said, very quietly. “And it is also very safe.”

  Gary sighed, feeling a stab of bitter envy. Children on Meridian were safe because they were taught to fight, to defend themselves, to use weapons; children on the asteroid were safe because there were no threats in their tiny community. Earth ... he shook his head bitterly, understanding - once again - why Kailee wanted them to learn how to defend themselves against all threats. The universe simply wasn't safe.

  “I know,” he muttered back. He glanced into a side room and saw three children, perched in front of a teaching machine. “What happens when this place is attacked?”

  Jasmine shook her head. “You don’t want to know.”

  They stepped into a command centre, where a dark-skinned man was standing next to a lady with blue skin and a single green eye. The other had been replaced with a prosthetic sensor that spun constantly, fixing on something for a long second and then moving to the next shiny thing. Gary couldn't help feeling uncomfortable being near her, even though it was hard to keep his eyes off her bare breasts. There was something about such casual mutilation of the human form that sickened him.

  “Jim,” the man said. He sounded pleased to see Frazier. “You’re back!”

  “Pete,” Frazier said. He nodded to the girl. “And Andor. It’s good to see you both.”

  “You sound tired,” Andor
said. Her eye implant froze, studying Frazier’s face. “What happened?”

  “It's something of a long story,” Frazier said. He took a breath. “Last time we spoke, you told me you wanted out of this system. Is that still true?”

  “Yes,” Pete said. “This is getting to be an awkward place to raise children.”

  Jasmine took a step forward. “In what way?”

  “They’re no longer as intrusive as Earth used to be,” Andor said. “But we do get regular inspections and ...”