Convoy (The Shelby Logan Chronicles Book 1)

by Chris Hechtl

  “It doesn't matter at the moment, Captain. We need to get the repairs done and get out of here before he brings back reinforcements,” Chief V'x'n stated.

  “What about the natives here? We just leave them out to die?” Loise demanded.

  “They've been enduring the pirates for centuries. We can't help them at the moment if we can't help ourselves. We need to look after the ship first. Second, that,” the Veraxin waved a lobster claw through the hologram of Aengus as well as the enemy ship, “ outguns us. We're more damaged than them, and they have more munitions. We've lost half our bow munitions and half our bow tubes. We're in short, screwed if they come back,” he said, signaling first-degree annoyance as he addressed the last statement to the TACO as well as the captain.

  The XO turned to the captain expectantly. Thelma flushed but she didn't bite back, a clear indication that she agreed with the Veraxin.

  “We retreat. We need to bring the information we've got back to the fleet,” the captain said simply.

  “Aye aye, ma’am,” the chief engineer replied with a clear sign of relief in his manner. He wasn't the only one the captain noted. She wondered briefly if the crew had lost faith in her. Her one shot at getting it right, and she'd screwed it up. She closed all but two of her eyes. “Make the repairs. Helm, set course for the Tau-42Z15 jump point. Use the most-fuel-economical course,” the captain ordered.

  “That will give us plenty of time to make repairs,” Aengus stated.

  “Stow that, Mister,” the XO growled, looking at the A.I. darkly.

  “Aye aye, ma’am.”

  “Dismissed,” the captain said as she slithered out of the room.

  Chapter 23

  Once they were properly oriented, the convoy slipped into hyperspace in formation and then moved through the octaves to cruise the 10-light-year distance to their next stop. Deploying the corvettes and frigates and moving some of the cargo inside freed up several octaves of speed for the convoy. It had also freed up some of the space in the transports. Two of the cabins were converted into additional wardrooms and rec rooms to help the passengers and crew deal with the confinement on board.

  The 10-light-year journey took just over six weeks to complete. The crew were relieved by the relatively short hop. That relief changed as they received radio reports of the plague on two of the three planets in the Platte cluster.

  “We're not welcome, ma'am. The Alpha colony is broadcasting a quarantine warning. They aren't answering hails. Baker ….” Lieutenant Jardin shook his head. “Baker as you know is a couple light weeks away, but Alpha is broadcasting Baker has the plague as well,” he said.

  Shelby heard soft cursing behind her. She turned to identify the source, but Lieutenant Jardin's fast move to touch his ear with his hand made her turn back to him.

  “We're picking up the message buoy from Belfast and Puglia, ma'am.”

  “Where?” she asked.

  “It's near the jump point to here, ma'am.”

  “I see. So they stayed together?”

  “I'm just getting the IFF now, ma'am. I pinged an inquiry when we jumped out.”

  “Okay. Get someone on that. While you are doing that, raise the planet and let Mahoney and Doctor Taylor know the situation …”

  “Ma'am?” the lieutenant asked.

  “Do it.”

  “Aye aye, ma’am.”

  It took an hour to get someone on the radio. “This is Commodore Shelby Logan of the Federation Navy. According to the buoy our light cruisers left behind here, they stopped and spoke with you. We'd like to help you with the medical crisis. The same plague is being experienced in the Trajin cluster,” she said.

  Ten minutes later she got a scratchy response. “Federation navy we hear you. Do you have a cure for the plague?”

  “We don't know what it is at the moment. We have a hospital ship and several dozen highly-skilled medical personnel here on standby. If you will let us, we'll put them to use to help you.”

  “Stand by,” the voice rasped.

  “Please let us help,” a rating murmured softly.

  “Amen,” another said, equally soft.

  “Your offer to help has been denied. We don't know what it is, but it came from space. You spacers have done enough. Your kind isn't wanted here,” the voice rasped.

  Shelby turned to see Doctor Taylor walk in just as they heard that response. She saw his shoulders slump, then he rallied, squaring his shoulders.

  “This is Doctor Roman Taylor. I am a sleeper; I'd like to help. I have a full medical staff on board here, and we have a hospital ship with a small but capable database and virology section. Please let us help.”

  He turned to the others. “It is going to be ten minutes before we get a response, Doc; they are five light minutes away,” Lieutenant Jardin stated.

  “I see,” the doctor said. “Do we have anything on them? Did they say anything about the symptoms? How widespread is it?”

  “No, Doc, sorry,” the lieutenant said with a shake of his head.

  Shelby cleared her throat. “Anything from the buoy?” she asked.

  “We're still downloading it, ma'am,” the lieutenant replied. He frowned as he did a check. “I can check what we've downloaded so far into the buffer …” He frowned as he pecked at his keyboard. After a moment, he looked up. “No mention of the plague, ma'am,” he said.

  “Damn it,” Doctor Taylor muttered.

  “Count your blessings, Doc; at least they weren't exposed to it,” Lieutenant Prometheus stated.

  That brought the doctor up short. He frowned then nodded once. “True,” he finally admitted.

  “Incoming call,” the A.I. said.

  “We've considered your offer. The answer remains the same. No. We will deal with this on our own,” the raspy voice said, then coughed.

  Doctor Taylor scowled. “Why the hell won't they let us help?” he demanded. “This is Doctor Taylor again. “Will you let us help you remotely? We have several medical databases. If you describe the symptoms, we can try to find an answer. Or, we can send you a medical database …” He paused and shook his head. “Please. I'm a doctor; we're here to help!” he implored, spreading his hands apart in supplication and looking up to the ceiling.

  Ten minutes later they received a brief and cutting reply. “No. Leave.”

  The doctor hung his head, rejected. He shook his head. “I just don't understand … I mean, anyone in their right mind would want help. Desperation …,” he shook his head, one hand gripping a railing.

  Shelby cleared her throat. “Navigation, plot us a course to bypass the planets. Drop another messenger buoy; this one set to transmit a quarantine warning,” she said.

  “Aye aye, ma’am,” the rating at the navigational station and Lieutenant Jardin replied, both subdued.

  “That's it? We're just going to leave them? Move on?” Doctor Taylor demanded; staring at her just as the XO came onto the bridge. “Nothing? Nothing at all?”

  “Doc, we can't help someone if they refuse help. You can transmit what you know and possible cures while we're en route to the jump point. If they change their minds, by all means we'll change course. But we're not going to sit here helplessly and watch them die either,” Shelby said.

  He nodded.

  “I'm starting to really hate whoever is spreading this plague,” Cynthia growled. “Typhoid Mary … it doesn't sound right. I don't like it,” she said.

  “You and me both,” Shelby said with a shake of her head.

  “We need to do something about them. Get ahead of them, cut them off, blow the damn ship up, something,” Cynthia growled. A growl of agreement rolled around the bridge, including from Doctor Taylor.

  ]][#]]]{OO}===}==>

  Rachel grimaced as Oscar finished setting up the equipment once more. The Neoorangutan gave her a thumbs-up when he finished hooking up the lights. He turned them on then added a filter to tone things down as Nellie finished applying Rachel's make up.

  “I hate that we
have to wait to upload everything. It is all going to be years old. This will most likely go into the database, I bet they won't air any of it, or just small bits,” she said with a grimace.

  “Hold still,” the producer said, gripping Rachel's chin as she applied some makeup to remove some shine from her nose. “Okay. I think that skin moisturizer is doing it,” she said. “There,” she said after a moment, ignoring the complaint. It wasn't like she'd heard the complaint before every taping anyway.

  “We're up,” Oscar said as Nellie pulled the bib away and then inspected Rachel's wardrobe choice. It was a conservative top, red with a pearl necklace she'd picked up at a market. She had matching pearl earrings. “Checking …,” the Neoorangutan leaned in behind the camera remote and then nodded. “We're five by five.” He turned and adjusted the stand with the teleprompter on it.

  “Good,” Rachel said with a nod. She technically didn't need the teleprompter; she had civilian grade implants that fed the report directly onto the HUD in her vision. But it was a good reminder to have it.

  “First up is the status of the convoy. We'll be exiting hyperspace in five minutes,” Nellie reminded her. “Four,” she said, checking her status board. “We'll cut to that after your usual status; that will be a nice live interjection that corporate will appreciate. Then we'll cover some of the commentary from the crew about the plague and mission so far. All that's canned of course,” she said, glancing to the door. She knew that Mot the barber would be returning from his lunch break in another forty minutes.

  “Okay, let's do this,” she said with a nod.

  “Lights,” Oscar said, turning the lights on. “Camera,” he said, the light above the camera turned from red to yellow. “And …,” he counted down with his fingers and then pointed to Rachel.

  “This is Knox News, Tau Sector Desk, Rachel Trejo reporting,” Rachel said formally. “It is a lovely day on board; there is an air of excitement overtaking the crew as we count down to emergence in another new star system. We'll be covering the emergence live in a moment, but first …”

  ]][#]]]{OO}===}==>

  “Stand down from hyperspace,” Cynthia ordered.

  “Hyperdrive powered down. Securing from hyperspace aye,” a rating reported.

  Shelby nodded silently as she observed the well-oiled machine of her bridge crew as well as the ship's in the convoy. The escorts moved further out to widen their protective network even while the massive pulse of energy was still dissipating. They were still toddling around in the first two octaves of Gamma so the 9.5-light-year jump to Tau-247196 had taken just over five and a half weeks. She wasn't certain what they had to look forward to in the star system since it was a space colony.

  “Ma'am, there are only two space colonies listed here,” Lieutenant Jardin said, breaking into her woolgathering as if he'd read her mind. “There is one close by according to the notes. It is fifteen light seconds out from us, also on the heliopause. It seems like that is where most of the materials are that they need to survive on,” he added.

  “Neutrino detection has confirmed something is there, Captain,” the sensor rating reported.

  “By all means, call them as we resupply, Lieutenant,” Shelby said with a nod to the communication's lieutenant. It was something of a relief to be able to talk to someone right near the jump point. That seemed rather rare though. She wasn't certain why their station was so far out … could it be because there was no asteroid belt? All the resources seemed to be tied up in the rocky moons or the heliopause.

  “Aye aye, ma’am,” the lieutenant said.

  It took an hour to get through to someone, and then a few minutes more before that person forwarded to him a different channel, and then more time waiting and trying for a response there. When he did, he was immediately cut off at the knees. “There is no trade here. We have nothing to trade,” the unnamed Tauren said. “We need all the fuel we have to keep our systems going as it is. We can't even begin to hope to fill your tanks. Not with that many ships,” he said.

  “We're not the pirates,” Lieutenant Jardin implored.

  Thirty seconds later he received a reply. “We don't care, move along. We have nothing for you here. We can't trade; we have nothing to trade with, nor does the moon colony. They've been having trouble just trading with us! We're barely scraping by; if we trade with you, we're screwed. You best be on your way,” a voice said gruffly before cutting the circuit.

  “Well! There is that,” Shelby said when the lieutenant replayed the message for her a few minutes later in her office.

  “Should we call them back? Tell them we can give them some stuff? Warn them about the plague?” the lieutenant asked.

  “Yes, broadcast the details about the plague. Also about the Federation and our mission here. Keep it short. You can do that while we cross the star system to the next jump point I suppose,” Shelby said.

  “Understood, ma'am. On another slightly happier note, the recon flight picked up the Puglia beacon.”

  “Understood. Move …” Shelby checked the status board. “Have Knife Dancer launch one of her fighters to get in range of it and have the beacon stripped. They can then forward it to us when the fighter returns.”

  “Aye aye, ma’am,” the lieutenant replied with a nod as he jotted the order down.

  “Also, let the convoy know we're not stopping. I'll have Portia shape a course to the next jump point.”

  “I believe she already planned for that contingency,” the lieutenant said with a nod as he made another note.

  “Does it distress you that they won't let you visit?” Boni asked curiously for Shelby's ears only.

  Shelby frowned and turned to the side. “Boni, yes it does a little, but it is no longer surprising,” she said. The lieutenant frowned at her. Shelby cupped her right hand to her ear to indicate she was talking through her implants. She saw him nod slightly out of the corner of his eye as he understood.

  “They don't know us. None of them do. When word gets around, that will change, but for the moment, we need to work with those who are willing to work with us. Besides,” Shelby grimaced. “We've only got so much gear on board. I had planned to mine in some stops to replenish our stocks for the next stop after we clear some space. We'll just save it until we get to a place where we can use it.”

  “Aye aye, ma’am,” Boni replied with a nod.

  Shelby turned to the lieutenant. He coughed in his fist and then nodded once. “Okay, as you were saying, ma'am, the convoy isn't stopping. As you were talking, I jotted an email to Portia. She has uploaded her courses to your inbox, ma'am,” the lieutenant said.

  Shelby smiled briefly. “Efficient. Good,” she said as she tapped at her desk. Boni however interfaced with the desk before she could get far on her own and pulled the files up for her. “Thank you, Boni. Okay …,” she studied the three courses Portia had generated, along with the execute windows. She'd kept to one short course and two fuel-economical courses. “Given the next stop is an agro world we can take the longer route,” she said. “Will that take us off course from Puglia's buoy though?” she asked.

  Boni highlighted the recon fighter and then the messenger buoy. It was on a fuel-economical course she noted. Most likely the light cruiser had also had trouble negotiating for fuel. It was also supposed to scout, so undoubtedly she'd scanned the star system thoroughly in her travels. Such information should also be in the buoy's databases she thought. “Okay, this one,” she said, tapping the course.

  “Sending it to Lieutenant Ming now,” the A.I. replied.

  “Good.”

  ]][#]]]{OO}===}==>

  A day later Shelby noted that the Puglia beacon's database had been downloaded and then transmitted to Prometheus. Her senior staff took the time to read it at the beginning of their meeting.

  “At least we know they've passed this way,” she said as she looked over the contents. There was a copy of the logs from the previous stops as well as a lot of astro and other data on each star system. She i
gnored the terabytes of data, especially stuff she'd already seen so she could focus on the time chops after them. There was data about the ships, hyper log, engineering logs, etc.; she also ignored them for the main points she wanted to see. “Looks good,” she said with a nod. “We know they've gotten this far,” she said to Cynthia as she looked up.

  “Agreed. They got this far,” Cynthia said. “It doesn't tell us much more than that.”

  “It does a little; it tells us when they were here so we can plug that into their timeline. But they didn't update the log after that. Which makes me wonder, did they get in deeper than we expected? If they ran into the same reception we did, did they turn around? As I said, they didn't add to the beacon so they didn't come back this far, right?” Shelby asked.

  “I've got a better one,” Cynthia said. “Did they run into a pirate? Or worse, the plague and not know it?” she asked. That sent a shiver among the other officers including Shelby. The idea of being trapped on a ship, sick, unable to get help … watching your crew mates die one by one … seeing the ship's systems fail because there was no one to run them … It wasn't a pleasant scenario.

  “Okay, well, focusing on the good, they got this far, noted the plagues, and noted the contacts they made along the way. Good to know. Anything else I need to be aware of when I talk to the captains later today?” she asked.

  “Everyone here knows that we're not stopping.

  ]][#]]]{OO}===}==>

  The captains’ meeting went about as expected, Shelby noted as she tried to project the right amount of confidence. She knew Zeb, Janice, Vlad, and some of the others understood the situation and had faith in her. At least she assumed they did from their past association to her. It was still rough, and she knew a few like Captain Runyon and a couple of the other captains probably wanted to find another way or even give up.

  “This is getting old. This cold shoulder …,” Captain Kaluha said. “We didn't even get that in Bek or Nuevo!” she said.