Convoy (The Shelby Logan Chronicles Book 1)

by Chris Hechtl

  It hadn't worked, but the impacts had rung the planet like a bell and had set off a nuclear winter during the first critical stages of the colony, nearly causing its failure. Apparently, the original monarch had started out as a leader and something of a warlord out of desperation to keep his people fed and from fighting each other over the meager resources. According to what Io 11's files said, he'd been a ruthless bastard, but it was the only way to get things done short of shooting everyone and starting fresh. He had eventually been chosen to become the planetary ruler, though how was a bit fuzzy. He had passed the monarchy down not just through his bloodline, but through whoever was capable of doing the job irregardless of species. The mechanics on how that worked was a bit fuzzy as well.

  Within minutes of tuning in, 1353 picked up radio transmissions from the planet mentioning the plague. The two ships immediately set course for the planet despite the warnings of a quarantine.

  “We're on then,” Doctor Taylor said with a nod as he had the ship's comm section put a call to the planet in for him.

  “This is the Federation star ship 1353, Doctor Taylor speaking. We are a hospital ship sent out by the Federation to help,” the doctor said carefully. “Can I please talk to your senior medics?”

  Unfortunately, there was a long delay due to the speed of light barrier. He had to wait twenty minutes for a reply. When he received it, the transmission was audio only, no video or data.

  “This is Hostarius and Herald Joselin Durward of Kingdom Come,” a female voice replied. “We have been recently visited by a ship and now have a plague rampaging across our population. Go elsewhere, this planet is under quarantine,” the voice said then coughed.

  Doctor Taylor grimaced. “Look, we know you were visited by a Horathian pirate recently, which is why we are here. We picked up their ion trail and followed them here to try to stop them and the plague they are spreading. It is actually an entire host of weaponized viruses, bacteria, and prions that mimic the same symptoms. We have the treatment and cure. Please, let us help you,” he implored. “We have a hospital ship here with full modern Federation equipment, plus some skilled medical personnel itching to put their skills and equipment to use,” he said.

  “This is King William the IV,” a different voice said twenty minutes later. “What will this cost us?”

  “We will need the cooperation of your people, sir. We will also need some raw materials to help make the cure.”

  “Ah ha!”

  “We're talking material to make the cure and make the equipment to distribute it to help treat your people, sir,” the doctor said patiently twenty minutes later. “Please your majesty, let us help.”

  “What do you get out of this?” the king demanded.

  “We get to stop the spread of this plague. We get to put one in the eye of the people spreading it. If you want to continue the cynical bent, fine, we also get some goodwill and will give you the opportunity to rejoin the Federation,” the doctor said, trying hard not to roll his eyes and let exasperation creep into his tone of voice. “Do you have a computer system we can download the information to you, sir?” he asked.

  “No. Such things wore out or were taken by the pirates long ago. What we have left are relics,” the king replied gruffly twenty minutes later.

  “I can give your people the basics over the radio. The closer we get to your planet the less the transmission lag will be. We have a shuttle outfitted as a mobile clinic. Sir, every moment is precious,” he said.

  “You don't think I don't know that?!? I just lost my children and my wife!” the king snarled, voice filled with rage at the unfairness of it all.

  When the doctor heard that, he reared back and then closed his eyes. “I'm sorry to hear that, sir,” he finally said quietly. “Please let us help the living.”

  “Do what you can,” the king growled. “I'll be watching. No tricks.”

  ]][#]]]{OO}===}==>

  Explaining the situation over the radio to what was basically medieval physicians was difficult at best. Over the 3-day period as the ships moved into the inner star system, they made some progress, but not much. Frequently the ship's explanations of this or that were interrupted by the impatient monarch ordering them to move on.

  It was clear to Roman that the king was not happy about being bypassed, but he knew that the situation warranted speed over protocol if he wished to save what was left of his people.

  Explaining what the government needed to do to slow the spread of the virus didn't help the relationship with the crown. It came out as a form of dictation that made the Monarch further prickly since Doctor Taylor had laid out what needed to be done and didn't explain or ask for permission. Given the monarch's previous insistence on brevity, Roman had only been following orders. But he knew they were off to a bad start.

  Once they were on the planet, the medics swung into action. The basic clinic was set up right at the spaceport and then expanded to tents and structures nearby to keep from crowding the medics.

  Roman did pick up that the planet had something of a constitutional monarchy in place, but that was all he managed to get on politics as he oversaw the triage and treatment while also overseeing teams to inoculate the medics and government personnel with vaccines, then train others to go out to areas that had yet to be afflicted to spread the vaccines further to halt the progression of the plagues.

  “I don't want to seem ungrateful,” a familiar male voice said tiredly one evening two weeks after their landing. He turned in surprise to see a chimera dressed in royal red and purple robes. The man even had a golden circlet around his forehead. “Please,” the king said, waving a hand as Roman rose tiredly. “You have worked tirelessly to save what is left of my kingdom.”

  “I'm sorry we couldn't have gotten hear sooner, sir,” the doctor said heavily.

  “As am I. It will be something that will haunt me until the end of my days I believe,” the king said heavily as he looked away in pain. “But, my family would deeply appreciate what you are doing here. I do have to ask you the price.”

  “We're not going to force you to join the Federation. We have some gifts to give you to help you rebuild. Computers,” the doctor said tiredly with a wan smile. “Basic things, not much since we only had so much space and bringing as much of the cure as possible was more important.”

  The king studied him for a long, silent moment.

  “We are reestablishing the Federation here in Tau. You'll have decisions to make about that, but they can wait. We can leave you the material for you and your population to read and discuss as you rebuild,” the doctor said.

  “Until the pirates are dealt with, I am not going to expose my population to their wrath,” the king said.

  “Even after this?” the doctor asked, waving a hand. There was a flare from the window. Both men turned to see bodies being burned in an inferno, lighting the cool night sky. “They did this. You haven't earned their wrath, but they did it anyway.”

  “I know. But still, I will not commit my people.”

  “Understood,” Roman said as he studied the other man. “Hopefully our actions in time will encourage you to reconsider,” he said.

  “Perhaps,” the monarch said. He ran a hand over one of his goat horns, and then shrugged. “Perhaps in time things may change. But that won't happen until the pirate scourge is ended.”

  “I don't know about ended; they tend to pop up even during the best of times,” the doctor said. “But I fight a different enemy. I leave battling the pirates directly to those who man the warships and fighters in the fleet,” he said.

  That earned a sparkle of interest from the tired old man. “Interesting. Tell me more,” he murmured, taking a seat.

  “Well,” Roman said, washing up. “I don't know if anyone told you, but I'm a sleeper.” That news made the Chimera blink and then nod slowly. “I know something about losing everyone you knew, everyone you ever loved,” he said heavily as he dried his hands. “I served during the beginning of the
Xeno war. In fact, I had just graduated when the war had begun its second stage …”

  ]][#]]]{OO}===}==>

  Mercy Flight 2, composed of the Arboth class destroyer Xiphos and the Liberty ship 875 broke into the Tau-23IX22 star system with the usual energy flare.

  “Funny, we're not getting the messenger buoy IFF here,” a comm rating reported after sending out the usual IFF to trigger the buoy's automated systems.

  “Keep trying. Comm, raise the planet,” Captain V'r'w'll of Xiphos ordered. The Veraxin captain flexed his mandibles but then went back to studying the main plot.

  Twenty minutes later they got a response, but it was from an unexpected source. Warily the destroyer scanned the star system thoroughly. When no betraying gravitational or neutrinos were detected, it then escorted its consort into the inner star system.

  Three days later they made orbit and put a call in to the planet once more. They were immediately connected to Doctor Gusterson. “It is good to see you all,” the doctor said as the bridge crews on the two starships surveyed the damage to the planet from orbit. They could still see some of the wildfires raging away from the bombardment areas. They could also see the smoldering wreckage of the space port and capital city of Knossos.

  “Damn! What'd we miss?” Captain V'r'w'll asked. “Or should I say who? Bastards … it looks like a hell of a mess down there,” he said in sympathy. He had downloaded the report from the doctor, so knew the pertinent details, but he also knew debriefing the doctor was a part of the mental process necessary to help deal with the mental trauma.

  “You don't know the half of it,” Doctor Gusterson said dryly. “Try a pirate task force centered around a damn battlecruiser,” he growled. “And it's following in Alpha Convoy's wake.”

  “Coming right up the commodore's backside,” Captain V'r'w'll breathed, then began to curse in Veraxin.

  Doctor Gusterson transmitted his full report once more, including a copy of the files he received from Mahoney before she'd been forced to abandon him. “Well, the good news is, I can catch a ride with you,” the doctor said. “And while we were here, we got a lot of practice in trauma medicine in, along with treating the plague.”

  “Understood. We have the facilities and some willing and eager people to help,” Captain Reginald Parker of 875 replied. The Neogorilla lieutenant commander outranked Captain V'r'w'll by time in grade, though he deferred to the other captain's judgment when it came to matters of ship security. He had lamented taking the captaincy of the Liberty ship while his half-sister had taken on an XO slot on Belfast. Then again, he was the ship master while she was the XO. He hoped he'd find her soon.

  “Good. We can knock this plague the rest of the way out for good then,” Doctor Gusterson growled firmly.

  “What about Alpha?” Captain V'r'w'll asked.

  “We stay the course,” Captain Parker said slowly. “You said Mahoney and the others got away, Doctor?” Captain Parker asked carefully. “Just to be sure here.”

  “As far as I know, yes. They had a head start. As long as we still have the speed advantage … and the enemy isn't ahead of them, I think they'll get the warning to the commodore. I know Cupid took off like greased lightning before the other ships broke orbit,” he said.

  “Good to know. We can't go back without risking our ships and exposing them to that force,” Captain Parker observed. “That means that we need to stay the course. Deal with what is in front of us and move on, continuing Mahoney's mission.”

  “The commodore is on her own, in other words,” Captain V'r'w'll said bitterly.

  “I'm afraid so. We can't get in to help them. We'll do what we can to help those who are afflicted by this plague and let the rest of the navy deal with the pirates.”

  “If they can,” Captain V'r'w'll muttered.

  ]][#]]]{OO}===}==>

  The Federation's Beta convoy arrived in the Tau-8250 without incident. Each jump had been punctuated with news from the messenger buoys left in the star systems. Low on consumables, the ships made their way warily into the inner star system.

  When they reached parking orbit of the planet Rolling Meadows, the sensor ratings reported recent carnage on the planet, including ruins. “It looks like the pirates paid a recent visit. Either that or they had firestorms all over the place, all at the same time,” the CIC rating said. “And I don't buy that.”

  “I don't either,” Captain Mochadeyn rumbled. “Any sign of the plague?” he demanded.

  “We can't tell from here. They aren't transmitting, sir.”

  “Damn it.”

  “Do we chance going down or …?” the XO asked.

  “We need provisions. We've got enough fuel in the tanker for another stop but …,” he grimaced. “Order the ships to refuel. Comm, keep trying to raise someone on the planet. Let them know we aren't the pirates.”

  “Aye aye, sir. I don't even know if they are listening, but I'll keep trying, sir.”

  “You do that,” the captain ordered as he turned to his XO. “Number One, you'll need to get with Lancelot and Scratcher. I know they don't have Marines, but we'll need some shooters for security. Have them shuttle someone over.”

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  “Sir, we're receiving a transmission from the planet. They are warning us off. They say the pirates have punished them for accepting our trade and will do so again even more harshly if they find out we came again. They are ordering us to leave them alone,” the comm rating said.

  “Damn it,” the captain muttered.

  “Sir?” the XO asked. “What do we do now?”

  The captain sighed heavily. “Comm, try to talk to them.” He turned away. “Order to all ships, continue the refueling. It looks like we're going to have to reprovision somewhere else,” he grumbled.

  ]][#]]]{OO}===}==>

  The Rho Mercy Flight finished stomping out the plagues on Alpha and Beta in the Trajin cluster after months of heart-tearing effort. Their efforts had taken time to pay off, but eventually the surviving population had become grateful and grudgingly indebted to the Federation.

  Since the plagues had not moved on to the Gamma-Delta-Echo star system, the convoy finished refueling and taking on provisions from a grateful population and then moved on to their next stop in the Platte cluster.

  ]][#]]]{OO}===}==>

  Captain Trug nervously watched his ship pass through the Lebynthos star system. They'd picked up transmissions from the planet warning of a recent visit by the pirates despite the assurances of the Federation people. His crew on the Conestoga were nervous and wouldn't be able to relax until they were in hyperspace on their way to Tau-1929. Fortunately, they had received word that the pirate ship had been seen on a course for the Tau-23IX22 jump point.

  That meant the way to Delos and Samos were clear, Captain Trug thought.

  There had been a bit of bad news; Governor Shaver had reported that the pirate had sprayed them with plastic seedlings after they had performed their raid. Fortunately, the seedlings had been detected and contained. Also fortunate was the fact that the Federation had inoculated the population against the plagues and shown their medics how to make more cure when necessary.

  But the news of the ship's passing was not good for the people of Asterion IX, Captain Trug thought once more. He needed to inform the navy people and have them send their ships to hunt the bastard down once and for all, he thought.

  Chapter 41

  Cynthia wondered privately about shift in orders. They had just started to lay the first sublight frigate hull when the commodore had pulled half her people off for another project. She'd fumed for a bit until she'd realized what Shelby had been up to; she'd thrown all that manpower at another pair of projects—two industrial plants and assembly lines.

  The first made missile pods. The missile pods could be stuffed with any sort of missile, even clusters of counter missiles if desired. The second industrial plant and assembly line had been for orbital mines.

  She never really liked mines;
They were limited in function, and you needed a lot of them to pen a ship or task force up in a kill box. That hadn't deterred the commodore however. The mines drew their warheads from the nuclear and beam warhead lines. They were still ramping up production on both.

  Once they'd had a minor stockpile, she'd set the Doras up to run payloads of mines to the jump points. Most of the mines went to the jump point leading to Tortuga. Each time a Dora returned, they cleaned out the stockpile once more. There was no way they could get ahead of production and create a buffer. Twice they'd had a slipup and had to shut down production, which had snowballed. The ships had been delayed moving cargo out and had left at a late launch window with a light cargo, which hadn't made the commodore in the least happy.

  The munitions ship was running the missile pods to each of the picket forces. Sixty percent of the missile pods were being set up around the jump point to Tortuga. The other picket forces split the rest evenly. The missile pods meant the missile production lines could barely keep up with production too, something Cynthia hoped and prayed wouldn't be a problem, but deep down she knew eventually would. Lady Luck's blessings rarely lasted long, eventually Murphy's gremlins put in an appearance when one got complacent … or when they were most desperate for something to go right.

  And now the shift, she thought, checking the order again. After this load, they would have a thin and dispersed layer of mines in-between the inner star system and the Tortuga jump point. The commodore now wanted them to work on the next jump point. She shook her head. There was no telling when she'd get her people back, if she ever did. Which meant they were limping along when they should have kicked the first ship out.

  It was just a tad frustrating she thought. That and she hadn't seen her husband in a month and hadn't gotten laid in three months didn't help improve her mood either.