by Henry Vogel
“What exaggerations?” Callan asked. “Milo is usually quite truthful.”
“Let’s see, the most unbelievable one had David Boosting for over ten minutes while single-handedly defending a trapdoor from creatures Milo called trogs.”
“Milo first heard that story from me, Laura.” Callan leaned her head on my shoulder. “I was in that cellar and saw it all. It really happened.”
Laura’s eyes went wide and her jaw went slack. Finding this whole conversation embarrassing, I took advantage of the brief silence to change the subject.
“Now that you’re free, how long will it take you to repair the ship and train a crew?”
Laura closed her mouth and pondered for a moment. “I’d say it’ll take three weeks to repair the ship. Training a crew is an iffier proposition. Considering the tech level we’ve seen here, I think we can train a crew to handle the less technical jobs in six months.”
“Then I think you’d better get started,” I said. “We’ve got a pirate base to take and your husbands to rescue!”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Six months to train a crew sounded optimistic in the extreme to me, but Laura’s approach didn’t occur to me. Training astrogators and engineers was impossible to do in six years, much less six months. The educational foundation just didn’t exist to support teaching such advanced skills. But Martin and I already knew astrogation and the women’s combined knowledge formed the foundation for a good engineering crew. A true emergency would run our small technical crew ragged, but we could handle the load long enough to reach the pirate base and, assuming a successful rescue and escape, the nearest naval base.
We’d train Aashlanders in laser gunnery and missile control. And, if we found anyone with the right mindset, we’d train one or two helmsmen as backups for Martin and me. Our training was well short of what you would find on a naval vessel — or a pirate ship, for that matter — but if we found ourselves fighting a ship-to-ship battle with the pirates we were in deep trouble anyway.
My bigger concern centered around training helmsmen, a misplaced concern as it turned out. Once he learned the control layout, Nist proved himself just as talented flying a spaceship as he was flying an airship. The real surprise was our second best helmsman. Perhaps it was youthful reflexes or his absolute dedication to making sure he got to come with us, but Milo was almost as good as Nist.
Rupor worked with Tartegian and Mordanian marines, forming a shipboard force split equally between the two services. The marines chosen to accompany us split their training time between shipboard tactics and unit cohesion drills, which Rupor insisted Martin and I perform, also.
Every crew member and marine received intensive language lessons from Heidi, Laura’s communication specialist. Our crew would hold a huge advChapterantage over the pirates if they understood the pirates’ language. Fortunately, a designed language such as galactic basic is easy to learn. All the crew were fluent weeks before launch. Megan, of course, disapproved of the language. She declared gal base a soulless language bereft of poetry and emotion and claimed she’d never compose a song in the language. Despite her displeasure with gal base, she spoke it better than anyone else on the crew.
Preparing a crew for a single voyage was easy compared to what Callan and Rupor went through. Every country and city-state on the planet clamored to be included. Alliances formed and dissolved daily as politicians maneuvered to secure a spot for their representatives. Callan squashed three attempts to make us renege on my promise to rescue the women’s husbands. Her father, King Edwar, fought against nobles intent on traveling with huge retinues. Laura’s team repaired the ship and trained the crew weeks before the diplomatic wrangling ended.
Six and a half months after it crashed, the newly christened spaceship Aashla’s Hope rose into the sky. After nearly three planet-bound years, I finally returned to space!
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
As the Aashla’s Hope cleared the atmosphere, everyone not busy at a work station rushed to the view ports. Gasps rose as the crew got their first look at their planet from space. Fortunately, Martin and I had seen this coming and had a work schedule setup which allowed everyone to get a look at the planet within the first hour.
We had plenty of time to enjoy the sights while the nav computer scanned the area of the planetary ring close to the wormhole entrance. The computer began plotting the movement of every rock large enough to threaten our spaceship. Martin and I watched the process for a while, verifying everything was proceeding as expected.
Martin turned to me. “I’ll take the first bridge watch. Why don’t you go find Callan and relax for an hour or two.”
“You don’t want to spend some time with Megan doing the same? It’s been a lot longer since you saw the view from space.”
“She’ll be busy staring out the view port and strumming on her guitar. I will just be a hinderance until she finds the right melody. And I can live without a space view for a couple of hours.” Martin waved me toward the hatch. “Now, get out of here. Go kiss your wife or something.”
I found Callan sitting next to Megan, who was experimenting with melodies as she gazed out a view port.
“You know, our cabin has a view port, too,” I said, wrapping my arms around Callan.
Callan smiled and, without a word, took my hand and led me back to our cabin. Taking Martin’s advice a step further, I kissed my wife and something.
Eight hours later, the nav computer displayed a winding course to the wormhole entrance. Martin and I took one look at the twists and turns required and summoned Nist.
“Do you think you can follow this?” I asked, showing him the course projection.
Nist nodded. “Sure. It doesn’t look that complicated.”
“Well, it looks like a hopeless tangle of spaghetti to me.” Martin waved Nist toward the helm. “Take us in, Nist.”
Seventeen nerve wracking minutes crawled past. The bridge crew gasped at close brushes and even ducked instinctively when one asteroid barely slipped over the ship. Only one person on the bridge remained calm. In truth, Nist looked like he was having the time of his life. Finally, the Aashla’s Hope slipped past the last asteroid and plunged into the wormhole.
In the early days of space exploration, wormhole travel proved deadly. The invention of the inertial dampener fifteen hundred years ago changed all that. Now travel through a wormhole is deadly dull. To combat boredom, Martin and I kept the crew on their toes with simulations and exercises. Rupor kept the marines busy with shipboard drills. Laura and the women with her kept an eye on the spaceship’s systems and struggled to quell their rising anticipation. No one aboard begrudged them their excitement since they’d be seeing their husbands for the first time in over a year.
Everyone had some job to do except for the diplomats, Callan, and Megan. The two young women — already fast friends before we lifted off — spent many more hours together. Megan asked for Callan’s opinion on various songs she was working on, including one that was shaping up to be an epic ballad about Callan and me. Megan’s lyrics did not exaggerate our adventures, but listening to it embarrassed me all the same. Callan loved it, though, and requested it often. In fairness to Megan, the song was exciting and moving. The verse where Rob died always brought a lump to my throat and Callan openly cried. The verse where Martin and his fleet arrived over Faroon just in time to save me always had my heart hammering.
Between wormhole jumps, Martin and I plotted courses past small asteroid fields. The gunnery crews gained hours of invaluable live-fire experience during those passes. Sometimes Milo and I went out in the pinnace, as well, allowing the gunners to practice firing — simulated, of course — against an evasive, human-controlled target. It had the added benefit of giving Milo hours of piloting experience. By the time the ship entered the wormhole to the pirate base, the crew’s rate of fire and accuracy had tripled and Milo’s skill flying the pinnace rivaled Nist’s.
The final wormhole jump seemed interminable,
as was the slow crawl through real space from the wormhole exit to the asteroid field concealing the pirate base. We approached to within five light seconds of the field before we received the pirate’s recognition challenge. Martin keyed the response code Rupor’s interrogators had...coaxed...from the pirates and we waited.
“We’re being hailed,” called Heidi from the communications console.
Martin rose from the command chair. “It’s about time. Put it on screen.”
A lean, hard face filled the view screen. “Ya took yer sweet time returning, Cau-”
The pirate’s eyes locked on Martin. “Who are you and where is Captain Caudill?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
“I regret to inform you that Captain Caudill was killed after his spaceship crashed onto a lost colony world. Most of his crew were also killed in the crash.” Martin inclined his head. “I am Martin Bane, new captain of this ship.”
On the view screen, the pirate’s lips compressed. “Caudill had himself an experienced crew and a top o’ the line ship — something you look to have figgered out fer yerself. Would ya care to be explainin’ to me how that ship and that crew managed ta crash?”
“They crashed the same way I crashed on the planet eighteen years ago.” Martin took a couple of steps toward the view screen. “The wormhole exits into the middle of a planetary ring. The collection of great big rocks flying all around that exit tend to take care of the rest. It didn’t help that Caudill’s aft inertial dampener failed on exit.”
The face on the view screen winced, the first sign of actual emotion from the pirate. “Ya got logs that back up yer story?”
“Of course. Only a fool would approach this location without them. Name a comm channel and I’ll send them to you.”
“Channel four three one.” The head tilted to one side. “Now lad, you say Caudill was killed after his ship crashed. I sure would like a mite more details than that.”
Martin shrugged. “Caudill was under the impression a few laser pistols and a crashed spaceship made him king of the world. I showed him just how wrong he was.”
“Yer saying ya killed Caudill and then had the gall ta come to this here base and stake a claim on his spot?” A mirthless grin split the face. “You sure you ain’t a big ol’ idiot?”
“No, I am a pirate. Based on Caudill’s logs, I’ve been a member of the brotherhood longer than he was. The difference is I was stuck flying airships in an atmosphere while Caudill had this spaceship.” Martin smiled. “Had is the operative word.”
“Ain’t you jest a laugh riot.” The compressed lips were back. “Gimme one good reason not ta blast you into little bitty pieces and maybe I’ll let ya live.”
“I come bearing gifts, ones you won’t get if you blast me out of space,” Martin replied.
“Well don’t that beat all. And what gifts could a backward, lost colony have that we’d give a tinker’s damn about?” sneered the pirate.
“My gift doesn’t come from the planet.” Martin leaned toward the screen as if sharing a secret. “My gift comes from Caudill’s personal files.”
The sneer vanished from the face. “I be listening.”
“As you might guess, it took me a long time to break the encryption, but I had plenty of time while my crew repaired the ship.” Martin returned to the command chair and lounged in it. “I know where Caudill hid his treasure!”
I struggled to keep my face impassive. Was Martin out of his mind? We found no heavily encrypted files on Caudill’s computer. We found no treasure maps, either. Besides, the myth of buried pirate treasure is millennia old, dating back to the days of wind-powered ships plying the oceans of Terra. Did Martin expect an actual pirate to fall for such a silly story?
Given my train of thought, I almost missed it when the glow of avarice lit the pirate’s eyes. The pirate blinked it away a second later, but I knew what I had seen.
“If Caudill had a hidden treasure trove, I never heard of it,” the pirate spat.
“Yes, no doubt you and Caudill were like brothers,” Martin drawled. “I’m sure you and he shared all your deepest secrets. Why, I bet you can tell me all about Caudill’s childhood, his parents, the object of his first schoolboy crush, and what drew him into this piratical life. We pirates are such trusting folk. Yep, we’re just one big happy family.”
Martin and pirate on the view screen stared at each other for several seconds.
“Not interested? Very well.” Martin looked at Nist. “Helmsman, plot a course for-”
“What’s yer offer, Bane?” the pirate growled.
“Equal shares of Caudill’s treasure, split between me and all the captains who use this base. In return, you allow me to join your brotherhood on an equal footing with the other captains. I won’t accept status as a junior captain or some such.”
“I’ll go tell the other captains o’ yer petition. You jest hold yer position. We’ll holler when we’s made a decision.”
The view screen cleared.
“Signal terminated,” Heidi announced.
“What were you thinking, Martin?” I didn’t yell, but it was close. “Buried pirate treasure is one of the oldest stories in the book!”
“It’s old because people believe it, David.” Martin maintained his calm in the face of my fury. “Even pirates believe it. They’re sure the big, famous raiders hold far more wealth than they display. Raiders being an untrustworthy lot, they assume men like me have all of that excess hidden away somewhere remote. I know of three groups currently searching the desert for my buried treasure. All three of the expeditions are led by men who served under me.” Martin dazzled me with a smile. “I know how pirates think. Trust me!”
Thirty-eight minutes later, the pirate was back on the view screen.
“We be grantin’ ye docking permission. Will ye be takin’ a piratical name?”
“I’ve gone by Martin Bane for eighteen years and see no reason to change that now.”
“Very well. Welcome ta the brotherhood, Capt’n Bane!”
“I’m looking forward to a profitable relationship,” Martin replied. “Now that I’m one of you, perhaps you’d care to introduce yourself?”
“Where be me manners? You can call me Captain Quint.”
Martin’s eyebrows rose and he sketched a half bow. “I am most honored to meet a living legend such as yourself!”
“Scorch the honor, Bane. I be plenty satisfied if’n you git us to Caudill’s treasure and then do yer part ta support the Brotherhood.”
Martin smiled. “I foresee exciting and profitable times ahead for us, Quint.”
“Buoy channel eight one three be today’s safe course ta the base. T’other captains an’ me will meet ya in the docking bay.”
“I look forward to it,” Martin said. “Oh, I do have one other request. In order to repair the ship, I required the cooperation of the women Caudill had on board. I offered them time with their husbands in return for their help.”
“Ya done got their help or ya’d still be stuck on that there planet. Ya be a pirate, Bane. Ya ain’t got ta keep yer end o’ the bargain.”
“And you’ll happily accept that explanation if I choose to keep Caudill’s treasure to myself?”
Quint’s eyes narrowed. “Tain’t the same thing, Bane. We be yer partners. Them women be jest useful playthings.”
“I’ve been a pirate for a long time, Quint, and having a reputation for keeping my word has been very profitable.” Martin’s face hardened, transforming from my genial friend into a ruthless pirate in the blink of an eye. “Do not presume to tell me how to run my ship. We will work within your current repair schedules, but my women will have time with their husbands.”
Quint glared at Martin before giving an abrupt nod. “All right, Bane, ya gets yer way this time. I’ll give the repair bay manager the word.”
Martin’s face relaxed and my friend was back. “It’s been a pleasure negotiating with you, Captain Quint.”
“Transmission ter
minated,” Heidi said. “And thank you for standing up to him. I haven’t seen my husband in over a year.”
“Soon you’ll be able to spend all the time you want with him,” Martin smiled. “Nist, we have families to reunite. Take us in!”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
As Nist wove the ship through the asteroids, following the course laid out by the buoys, Martin and I called a final meeting of our command staff. Callan and Rupor, along with their respective marine commanders, represented the Aashlanders. Laura and Heidi represented the women whose husbands were held in the base.
Tristan invited himself. “Someone has to be around to speak common sense and rein in you impetuous young people!”
“In a few minutes, we’ll be docking at the pirate base,” Martin said. “We’ve had to work around a lot of unknowns formulating our plan. We don’t know how many pirate ships are docked at the base nor the crew complement carried by the ships.”
“One of those unknowns turned out to be your story of buried treasure!” Rupor said.
“An inspired bit of improvisation, don’t you think?” Martin grinned.
“Perhaps you could explain why that is so, Martin?” Tristan asked.
“First, it got us access to the base. Quint looked more like he was ready to have the base defenses open fire rather than allow us to dock,” Martin said. “But the story will also sow discord among the captains. They’ll debate and argue and discuss who will come with me to fetch the treasure. In the end, all of the captains will come with me. That will create a power vacuum at the top, hampering the pirates’ response when you make your move.”
“What if they return in time to lead their men?” Laura asked.
“I’m not planning on bringing any of them back with me,” Martin replied.
Laura gasped and Heidi’s hand flew to her mouth. In contrast, the Aashlanders just nodded.
The intercom buzzed and Nist reported, “We’re on our final approach to the base.”