Wings of Steele: Revenge and Retribution

by Jeffrey Burger

  “Is there anything sizable left of the fifth planet?”

  “About one-half,” volunteered Pappy. “We found that the closer we got to the fifth orbit, the less-dense the field was. The pieces were bigger and easier to navigate. Also, less smoke and ash. The Zulu was able to get closer to take some scans. To me, it looked fairly hollow, sort of honeycombed.”

  “Could it have been mined out?”

  “It's possible,” offered the Westwind's Captain. Once they're that fragile, an impact of some kind or instability in her tectonic plates or core and it tears itself apart. If they drilled too deep it may have released some volcanic event... we'll probably never know. Because if it was a mining company, they will never admit to this.”

  Jack folded his arms across his chest. “If this was a mining project, this is huge... hundreds of thousands of people had to be involved. It must have taken decades...”

  “Not necessarily, Admiral,” countered the Westwind's Captain. “Standard mining, yes. But strip mining can be done on a planetary scale in five or six years by laser dredge ships. As you can see, they don't leave much...”

  “You've seen this before, Captain?”

  The Captain nodded, “Yes, unfortunately. I was a cruiser commander at the time. We were tasked with clearing the mess out of the system because it threatened an inhabited planet. Our group was there nearly three months blasting what was left into dust. I don't think the inhabited planet was ever the same after that. I remember reading some time later that it had severely affected their seasonal climate because the cosmic dust floated between the planet and their sun.”

  “Did you ever find out who the mining outfit was?”

  “Not to my knowledge, Admiral. Although I remember VirTech Mining being a suspect.”

  “There's that name again,” said Steele, stone faced. “Somebody who knows what goes on in operations like this has to have a conscience. We just need to find that somebody.”

  “Needle in a haystack,” volunteered Brian from the Captain's office on the Revenge.

  “A really big haystack,” offered Paul Smiley.

  “Dissension in the ranks,” breathed Jack, staring blankly at the holo-chart. “And they won't be alone, there will be others. Scuttlebutt spreads like wildfire; we just need to get it to come to us...”

  “I know that look,” said Brian. “Whatcha thinking, Ja, er, Admiral?” Brian caught himself, his mind stumbling across Jack, then Skipper, finally spitting out the right title.

  “I have an idea...”

  Paul looked at Steele across the chart table, only seeing half of him through the holo-chart floating between them. “Do I even dare ask..?”

  ■ ■ ■

  “So let me get this straight,” said Lisa, as she and Jack walked down the corridor from the meeting. “The Revenge is now the Raven?”

  “Right...”

  “And you're not you. You're Jax Mercury?”

  “You got it.”

  “Who the hell am I, then?”

  “You're you.” he replied.

  “What if I don't want to be me?”

  Jack stopped mid stride, pausing in the corridor. “Why would you want to be somebody else? I have to because they may know my name; it's connected with the Freedom...”

  “And whose last name do I have?” she queried.

  “Oh. Yeah.” Doh!

  “Yeaaah...” she teased. “And you're the Admiral.”

  Jack rested his hands on his hips. “Ok, so who do you want to be?”

  “Princess Sunshine,” she joked.

  He rolled his eyes and kept walking. “Over my dead body. It needs to be similar,” he explained, “something easy to remember.” He snapped his fingers, “How about Lisa Stone?”

  “Ooh, like Sharon Stone... OK, I like that.”

  ■ ■ ■

  Steele belted the holster around his waist, strapping it to his thigh, dropping in the .45 caliber, 1911 semi-auto, charged particle blaster. He tested the release and reholster to be sure it was smooth and secure. It felt good to be in civilian clothes again, something akin to what he used to wear on the Freedom. Dark gray form-fitted pants tucked into high boots, a dark blue, high collar shirt and a leather flight type jacket. All-in-all, comfortable and stylish. The ship's tailor had done an extremely nice job of making him look like an entrepreneurial ship's owner... with a slant towards bad boy.

  He hefted the duffel off the floor and took one last look around his quarters, “C'mon, dog, time to go.” Fritz jumped up with a snort and a quick wag, beating him to the door.

  ■ ■ ■

  Lisa was already at the shuttle, having an animated chat with Dar Sloane, her duffel stowed in the cargo compartment. She was dressed in tall flight boots and a leather and fabric body suit, a 1911 particle blaster like Jack's belted around her waist, strapped to her thigh, having traded her trusty Glock for something with a little more punch.

  “Well look at you, Ms. Stone,” commented Jack, strolling up. “Slick outfit.”

  “Looking good, Mr. Mercury,” she retorted. “Nice touch,” she indicated his unshaven stubble. “My friend, Mr. Sloane here,” she patted Dar Sloan's shoulder, “has promised to look after Gus for me while we're gone.”

  “Good deal.” replied Jack, somewhat distracted. He pointed at the open gull-wing doors on the four-person shuttle from the Revenge, Ensign Tusker seated at the controls in the pilot's seat. “Go ahead Fritz.” The German Shepherd jumped up over the door threshold into the seat next to Tusker. When Jack turned back, Lisa and Dar were lip-locked like two horny teenagers tongue-wrestling under the high school bleachers. “Aww, crap, I didn't want to see that,” groaned Steele. “Eww...” He grabbed his sister by the collar and pulled her away, dragging them apart. “Time to go, Barbie,” he said sarcastically. “Tell Ken you'll see him again at the sock-hop.”

  Buckled in, gull wing doors closed and secure, Lisa waved and Dar looked on sheepishly, smiling back. Jack glared at him through the canopy perspex. He didn't dislike or even hold it against the pilot, he knew the two had been spending a lot of time together... it was just seeing it. It was, well, ugh. He shuddered. OK, shake it off.

  The shuttle lifted off the deck, rotating smoothly, heading out through the blue stasis field, passing over the Conquest's fantail. Lisa was still looking over her shoulder back at the flight deck.

  “Stop it,” hissed Jack. “Stop acting like a lovesick puppy...”

  “But I really like him...”

  “I think I got that,” he replied, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “I think everyone on the flight deck got that...”

  She shrugged innocently, “Don't care.” She turned to him suddenly, “Ooh, I almost forgot! Did I tell you..?”

  “What?”

  “I don't care,” she repeated smugly.

  ■ ■ ■

  The landing bay of the Revenge was almost claustrophobic compared to the Conquest's, a mere closet, tightly packed, everything in its place. Tusker was busy securing the shuttle to the deck. Three shuttles shared space with cargo, parts and repair stalls.

  Marine Sergeant Draza Mac dragged the duffel bags out of the shuttle's small cargo compartment. “Welcome aboard the Raven, Mr. Mercury, Ms. Stone...”

  “Thank you, Mr. Mac. Are all of our temporary transfers aboard?”

  “Aye, sir. All mission pertinent equipment and personnel aboard. The Skipper asked that we direct you straight to the bridge. I assume you remember the way?”

  “Of course.”

  Draza Mac hefted the bags. “Good. I'll make sure your things get to your quarters.” He paused, cocking his head, hearing the change in the tone of the ship's engines. “Sounds like the Skipper's got us under way. Once we clear this crap, it's less than an hour to the gate.”

  ■ ■ ■

  The bridge crew of the Conquest was watching the Revenge, now the Raven, pull out of formation, heading toward the gate to Rikovik's Reef. She was moving cautiously, out of the planetary debri
s, leaving the Conquest and Westwind behind, hidden in the clutter and metallic dust. Even in the zero gravity, it clung to her hull, her movement leaving a trail of dust and ash like a wake behind her.

  Captain Ryan stood up at his station and stretched, massaging his back with his hands as he watched the big screen. “Communications, I want double coverage on your station. I want full time monitoring on the Raven's emergency channel.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “I want everybody fresh. Four hour shifts, no more. We're staying on yellow alert...” He looked over at his first officer. “You have the bridge, mister. I'll see you in four hours.”

  “Aye sir.”

  “I'll order up some food and drinks,” said Ryan turning towards his ready room. “Good luck Mr. Mercury,” he breathed without looking back.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  RIKOVIK'S REEF : DEN OF THEIVES

  “Rikovik's Reef in thirty minutes, Skipper.”

  “Understood.” Commander Brian Carter reclined in his chair, feet on his desk in the Captain's ready room, “Your quarters OK, Jack?”

  Jack extended his legs on the couch, leaning against the armrest, Fritz already sound asleep on the floor next to him. “Sure, they're fine.”

  “You didn't expect me to give up mine, did you?” Brian smirked crookedly.

  “Nah,” waved Jack, “it's your ship, man. I'm just a guest.” He glanced over at the holo-chart hovering above the table. “So they had a set of beacons out of the Rikovik gate routing traffic around the danger in the system to a third gate?”

  “Yep. We counted eight markers but I'm sure there were more beyond our sensor reach.”

  “Pretty smart idea.”

  “It is,” gestured Brian. “But it shows planning and preparation. Whoever set them up knew what was going on here.”

  “Agreed.” There was a silence and Steele found himself staring at the shimmering hologram.

  Brian spoke first. “So, Mercury huh? Quicksilver,” he whispered dramatically. “A highly toxic, amorphous liquid metal... some freaky symbolism there, Jack. Did you do that on purpose?”

  Steele shrugged. “It's also in Greek mythology. Mercury was the Roman god of financial gain, commerce and communication. He also guided travelers, and more interestingly,” he rubbed his hands together in an evil gesture, “escorted souls to the underworld.”

  Brian glanced, checking the time on his eGo-h. “Wasn't he the one with wings on his feet?”

  Jack nodded, “That's the one. He needed them, he was a very busy god.”

  “Man, that's kinda deep,” said Brian, cocking his head to one side. “But why did you have to call us the Raven? I've never really liked those birds, they always gave me the creeps.”

  Jack took a couple swallows of water. “Well, the common consensus associates them with death. But American Indian mythology paints them as a harbinger of magic, being able to travel between light and dark, life and death. Able to exist in either plane. The Raven's also supposed to be able to bring communications back and forth from the living to the dead, from the divine to the earthly.”

  Brian shook his head, “So traveling between light and dark, we really are the Raven then.” He shivered outwardly, “You just gave me the chills.”

  “Suck it up buttercup, we need to look like serious badasses, here.”

  ■ ■ ■

  “One minute to gate exit, Commander.”

  “On my way,” confirmed Brian. “Looks like it's showtime, Jack.”

  Jack swung his feet off the sofa and took a second to adjust, taking a deep breath. He touched the surface of his eGo-h, “TESS, please find Lisa Stone and call her to the bridge.”

  “Certainly, Mr. Mercury,” she replied in a sultry voice.

  “And thank you for remembering to use my new name...” he ran his fingers through his hair.

  “Of course,” TESS replied, sweetly. “You only need to tell me once, I am not capable of forgetting.”

  Brian pulled the water bottle away from his mouth in a bid to prevent water coming out of his nose. He was unsuccessful. “Oh snap,” he sputtered, wiping his face and pinching his nose. “Dammit, that hurt,” he winced. “Did she just burn you?”

  “It appears so.”

  “She's got attitude! How did that happen? Mine doesn't do that.”

  Jack rose from his seat, Fritz rising with him, stretching like a cat. “I don't know,” muttered Jack, “just lucky I guess.”

  ■ ■ ■

  Steele stood between Brian Carter in the Commander's seat and Raulya in the First Officer's seat, the entire crew dressed in civilian clothes of their own taste and choosing.

  Fritz sitting by his side, Jack pointed Lisa to the second chair at tactical. “Do whatever Raulya tells you to do...” She moved without question, activating the screens at the station and tilting them to her liking.

  Ahead of them, the splash of abstract color swirled in the center of the gate, undulating like liquid with a life of its own. “Entering gate corona,” announced Ragnaar.

  “All battle stations manned?” asked Jack.

  “Aye, all manned, cells charged, systems dark.”

  Tendrils of color reached out and enveloped the ship as its bow neared the center, pushing though its surface. Punching through the other side, the colors spilled off the ship's hull like a whale breaching the ocean's surface, rivulets and droplets of light and color reaching outward like spray, only to fall back to the surface of the gate as if affected by gravity, recollected to an energy well.

  “Five ships, Commander. They have us locked and tracking! Weapons are live!”

  “Shields up, guns live..!”

  “BELAY that order!” shouted Steele. “Stay the course, no deviations...”

  Brian looked over his shoulder, “What are you doing, Jack?”

  “You gotta walk in...”

  “Like you own the joint,” nodded Brian, finishing Steele's sentence.

  “These are probably the security guards checking IDs at the door,” explained Jack. He keyed his mic, “All hands, this is the bridge. I know we're all a little nervous, everybody just stay calm. Keep your eyes open and your systems dark.”

  “Incoming comm. I believe it's coming from the destroyer.”

  “On screen.” Steele stood with his feet apart and his arms folded, his jacket's fresh leather squeaking. “This is all yours Bri.”

  “Gee thanks.”

  A single video square winked into existence on the big screen, a thin man with greyish skin and blue-black hair. “Who are you and what is your purpose here?”

  “Who's asking? said Brian, rising from his seat and stepping past Jack. “I like to know who I'm talking to.”

  “Captain of the FreeRanger DD224. Now answer my question.”

  “Commander Brian Carter, skipper of the Raven. We're here to pick up a load of parts and equipment.”

  “Gunships closing in on either side, Jax,” whispered Lisa.

  Jack nodded once, almost imperceptibly to indicate he'd heard her.

  “We don't have any record of you or your ship in this sector before...”

  Brian folded his arms defensively, mirroring Jack standing behind him. “There's always a first time, isn't there... Do you greet all your first time visitors this way?” There was a hint of aggression in his voice mixed with aggravation.

  “Who did you say you were seeing?” asked the FreeRanger Captain, stoically, unmoved.

  “I didn't,” countered Brian. “I didn't realize coming to this system for trade was restricted, I thought it was a free travel and free trade sector. Maybe we should take our business and money elsewhere.”

  The FreeRanger Captain's mouth curled at the corners, a hint of evil. “We just like to know who we're doing business with...” An inquiry and side conversation momentarily took the Captain's attention away from the screen. When he turned back he leaned forward, eyeing Jack. “And who are you?” he pointed.

  “Jax Mercury,” replied Jack. �
��I own this ship.”

  “Why aren't you sitting in an office somewhere, mister owner?”

  “I like to keep an eye on my investments...”

  “You don't trust your captain and your crew?”

  Jack unfolded his arms, clasping his hands casually behind him. “I trust them just fine. It's the people we deal with I have to watch.”

  The destroyer's Captain roared with laughter, his head tilting back, revealing uneven, jagged teeth. “Who in hellion have you been trading with? Entertainment traffickers and Glacier dealers?”

  “Oh, it's not the people we do business with, so much as it's the people we meet along the way... But I digress, I really couldn't discuss our business,” said Steele as politely as possible. “If it got back to our clients or our vendors it might be bad for business. I'm sure you understand.”

  If the destroyer Captain noticed the intentional dig, he had no reaction. Turning away from the screen again, his side conversation lasting only a few seconds. He turned back, emotionless. “Enjoy your stay in Rikovik's Reef. Keep your nose clean.” The comm's video square winked out.

  Steele looked around the bridge, “OK, what the hell was that?”

  “They were just about up our ass,” commented Lisa.

  “We were recording a low-yield scan,” offered Raulya. “I believe the gunships were doing a cargo scan. They pulled away about the same time he signed off.”

  “What were they looking for?” asked Brian, returning to his command chair.

  “Anything smuggled,” explained Ragnaar, “that they could confiscate, or tax you on to let you pass.”

  “Hmm. A little grifting,” grumbled Jack.

  “Bribery is a survival staple of the pirate world,” commented Ragnaar. “I'm sure the fact that the owner is on the ship, made them believe that it is a small operation not worth the effort. A larger outfit may have been worth more of a take.”

  Steele nodded, “Good point.” He took a deep breath. “Stand down the crews. What's our time to Rikovik's planetoid?”