Galactic Council Realm 1: On Station

by J. Clifton Slater

  “Fit for duty, Sir,” I replied.

  “Good because I have a little job for you,” he said lowering his voice like he was taking me into his confidence, “You have five hours to check the crates we loaded from the hydroxyl Station.”

  It wasn’t really a secret conversation as both Kala and Agdta could hear us clearly. I guess it was his way to impart the importance of the job.

  “What am I looking for?” I asked remembering Agdta’s description of the impossibility of opening a crate on a ship.

  “Any marked crates,” he said, “Like a Z or an X or any other markings those damn smugglers might use on my cargo.”

  He sent a list of crates and a schematic of the cargo sleeve with their locations. I studied the data for a second.

  “I can do it but it’ll take me a while,” I said.

  “You’ve got five hours,” he urged, “better get moving.”

  “Aye Captain,” I said but Xhosa had already turned to his first officer.

  “If the systems are good,” he said to Kala, “Prepare to recollect the cargo ring.”

  “Aye Captain, configuring ion cannons for a reverse course,” Kala said as her fingers danced over the control panel.

  I caught up to the engineer in the aft section of the Uno Shoda. He was watching gauges and speaking with the first officer. The progress of matching the Clipper ship to the cargo sleeve was taking his full attention.

  “You are 360 Kala,” Ide finally said meaning the inside edge of the sleeve was an equal distance from the moving ship, “Steady and prepare to idle the engine. Idle now.”

  I had been looking over his shoulder. He palmed a few breakers waited for the cross section screen to show alignment and jammed them into the locking position. He turned to me with a quizzical look on his face.

  “The Captain wants me to examine the crates we loaded from hydroxyl Station,” I stated, “I’m not sure how to cover that much distance or what to wear.”

  “No problem Phelan,” he said pointing to a locker on the bulkhead beside the control panel, “You’ll find a pressure suit and helmet in there. It’s all you’ll need as I’m pumping atmosphere into the sleeve. It’s necessary to keep the exterior from icing and collecting space dust. Plays havoc with the ion flow when the outer skin has a buildup of particles.”

  The pressure suit was only a pressure suit. The kind a pilot would wear. I was expecting a plated space suit.

  “Not space qualified,” I said as I pulled the lower portion over my legs.

  “No need because of the weak atmosphere,” he replied, “The suit is to protect you from the cold not a void. Now for the sled.”

  He opened a section above his head and rotated a few control knobs.

  “Walk back to that room behind us,” he instructed, “I’ll close the hatch to hold my atmosphere. You’ll see the sled. Lay on it and belt the suit to the catches. Controls are simple hand operations. Right, left, back and forward on either joy stick and you’ll get where you need to go.”

  I slipped the helmet on and Ide slung an air tank onto my back. Some atmosphere only meant my guts wouldn’t implode from the void if my suit was damaged but, I could still suffocate. The hatch slid closed behind me and the room lit up.

  The sled was mounted at an angle pointing towards a hole that opened once the door was closed. I placed my feet in the place marked ‘feet here’. As I lay on the steeply angled sled, I clipped the suit to the raised catches on either side.

  I grabbed the two folded up rods and pulled them out of their bedding. The sled began to vibrate and rise above the plating. A gentle push forward on one of the rods rewarded me.

  The reward was the sled and I shot up into the cargo sleeve. Rapidly followed by a gut wrenching drop, I was moving fast around the inside edge of the cargo sleeve. I released the rod and the sled stopped.

  It was equipped with a dead man switch. The safety feature meant everything stopped when the control rod was released. With this setup, a sled wouldn’t continue on if the person in control was no longer able to drive.

  There were floodlights everywhere and the cargo sleeve was lit up like a small city. Above me, the crates hung from the outer skin by tracks. They looked like someone had turned an off road tire inside out putting the knobby treads on the inside. Only these treads were huge, tightly packed cargo crates. I consulted my PID. The first of the newly loaded crates was about half way around the sleeve from my current position. I put a little pressure on the control rod. The sled shot forward.

  The sled easily placed me next to any crate that needed a visual inspection. I learned it after a few attempts and overshooting a crate. I was a pilot after all and my pride in my abilities wouldn’t stand for anything less than total competence.

  The first two sections of crates yielded me nothing. As I approached the third section, a shadow drifted between two of the transport crates. Slowing to within a couple of body lengths from where I’d seen the movement, I watched for any signs of life.

  Six eyes creeped over the edge and looked at me. Soon another set of six eyes joined the first. I was feeling like a tourist attraction because I was a tourist. Here, without a weapon, I was little more than a bag of blood in a padded suit in a semi-space environment. The spiders were the residents and once they realized I couldn’t hurt them, it would get very interesting.

  They separated and climbed fully onto the top of the crate. Now I could see the eight legs on both of the spiders. Their mandibles were clicking and their legs tapped like finger nails drumming on the bottom of a steel cooking pot. Tap, tap, tap, tap the sound increased as they came at me holding their separation. The bugs were performing a classic pincer movement on me. As they drew closer, I could see the thorn like projections on their legs and back. All the while, the twelve eyes were locked on me.

  My hand was reaching for the rod. Ide had said pull back and the sled would move in reverse. I couldn’t think of a better idea.

  Suddenly, a ball of fur, all claws and hissing, came out of the darkness. One of the spiders reared up and attempted to spear the charging space cat. It missed and Svana slashed her long sharp claws across the arachnoids belly. As she covered the distance to the second spider, an explosion of entrails, blood, and pasty goo fell from the open wound of the first spider. The second spider tried to run. It was almost to the end of the crate when Svana rolled over and slid under the creature.

  I lost sight of the cat when she fell off the end of the crate. The spider was no longer running. It was dumping its innards onto the top of the crate. Svana had ripped it open as she passed under it. Ugly but efficient, the best kills usually are for a space cat.

  ‘Hunt good’, I heard in my head. Then I almost tossed up breakfast as she emerged back onto the crate licking the blood and goo off her paws. It wasn’t the sight, it was the slurping sound, as her rough tongue cleaned the fur of gore.

  She finished her maintenance and sat looking at me.

  ‘Good hunting’, I thought hard and with as much focus as I could muster.

  ‘More,’ she thought back.

  Then she started patrolling the section of crates. From crate to crate, she effortlessly leaped from one to another. Her route carried her from corner to corner where she peered down between the crates before jumping to another crate and repeating the process.

  Svana finally stopped at the last crate in section three.

  ‘No prey’, I felt the thought and she turned and gracefully vaulted into the darkness of the next section.

  It was at the third section where I found the smuggler’s mark. Two separate crates had a Z carved in them. According to what I knew, that signified outgoing contraband. The Captain would want to know about these. I noted their numbers and location on my PID.

  I came up empty on the fourth and fifth sections. Not only for smuggler marks but for bugs. The first was disappointing, for the other I wasn’t the least bit sorry. Then I found two with Xs in the sixth section. These must hold cash payments.
I noted these as well. The last of the crates, the ones in a special section with a high atmosphere, gave me nothing. Although I did find some green smudges and a few pieces of a shell like material. I was certain that Svana had been here first.

  “Ide, how do I get the sled home?” I asked on the ships com.

  “Release the handles,” he said, “I’ll execute a homing program.”

  The ride back was smooth as the computer was a better pilot them me. It was a little disappointing but not unexpected. The computer had more control time than me.

  After backing over the edge, the sled settled in the small room. With the folding of the rods, it sank onto the plate.

  I stripped off the pressure suit and thanked Ide. Then, I jogged away to report to Captain Xhosa.

  Chapter 36

  “If one disabled identifying panel was normal,” I explained to Xhosa, “and two was rare then four was an anomaly that couldn’t be ignored. Some group in the dock crew organization is secure enough in their ability to hide four special crates from the authorities.”

  “Two crates with contraband and two more with cash markings,” he repeated, “I don’t know what’s going on, but I will get to the bottom of this. Good job, Phelan. Do you have mess duty tonight?”

  “I do Captain,” I said hopefully, “Will you be joining us for dinner? I picked up a couple of new recipes on hydroxyl Station.”

  “Dismissed Ensign,” he said turning to speak with Agdta.

  She was smiling at me. I had the feeling my culinary talents had become another Clipper ship story.

  “Captain, we are ready to file our route with Merchant Fleet Transit,” Agdta announced.

  “Do it Navigator,” Xhosa replied, “Launch in 30.”

  “Aye Captain,” Kala said then on the ship’s com repeated the order, “Ide launch in 30.”

  “The cargo sleeve is secure,” the engineer answered.

  We’d been streaming for about an hour on Internal drive when Agdta spoke.

  “Prep External drive,” Agdta ordered.

  “External active,” Kala replied, “Stand by for external evolution.”

  “Ide,” Kala called to the engineer on the intercom, “External evolution in two minutes.”

  “Thank you Kala,” the engineer replied, “I am buckled in good and tight in case you try to rip my engines to pieces.”

  “I haven’t hurt them yet.”

  “There’s always a first time.”

  “10 seconds to External evolution,” warned Agdta.

  “Power equalized,” Kala shouted.

  “3, 2, 1,” replied the Navigator.

  The Uno Shoda became, to anyone in the area, a short blue streak in the black of space.

  I had taken the posture of standing during the switch over to External drive. It was so smooth that I hadn’t moved a muscle.

  “Don’t get used to that, Ensign,” Agdta said, “I understand the Navy’s Navigators aren’t as proficient.”

  “Most aren’t,” I admitted, “It’s called a snap because of the jerks caused by not so precise evolutions.”

  “Carelessness, just plan careless,” she said, “Care to check my calculations?”

  “Agdta, I wouldn’t dare question your equations,” I said, “But, I would like to know our route?”

  “The planet Nafaka orbits a small sun. Its elliptical orbit and location along the orbit makes finding the planet a mathematical challenge. We’ll have only three evolutions on this cruise,” she explained, “First we’ll use arcs to align us with a point beyond the sun once we’re out of the trade routes. The second arc, and it’s a long one, will take place at the apex. After completing a 110 degree turn, we’ll head back towards the Realm and the planet. As usually, we’ll do an adjustment to find the planet once we’re close.”

  “A 110-degree turn will take how long?” I asked.

  “About 6 hours,” Agdta replied.

  “Why so long?” I asked.

  “We have to be very controlled in our turns due to the gravitational pull of the sun,” Agdta said, “So its 6 hours of precision.”

  “That’s 6 hours of slow turns in deep space,” Kala added, “We’ll be on Internal power and almost helpless if the Pirates find us.”

  “Any tricks for us this time?” Xhosa asked.

  “None that I can think of,” I replied, “but let me ponder it for a while. I’m off to the galley. I’ve got mess duty.”

  As I walked away, I heard the Captain say, “Kala, I’ll take the next watch.”

  I wasn’t sure what he meant, or more likely, I didn’t want to know. ‘Mess duty’ was a time honored assignment on a ship.

  We hit the first alignment point three hours later. The Bridge crew dropped us out of External drive, pointed the nose of the Clipper ship in the direction of the sun, and went back to External. The meal was delicious, I thought. Agdta, Kala and Ide mumbled thanks and left the galley. Svana wandered in as I was cleaning up.

  ‘Smells like weaker prey’, she sent to me.

  I set down a portion of tuna for her. She sniffed it and ate it in three gulps. Then she stretched, walked to her corner and curled up.

  ‘Prey smell hide’, she thought before closing her eyes, taking a deep breath and going to sleep.

  Chapter 37

  Three weeks later, I was standing at the entrance to the gunner access tube. On the Bridge, Agdta was calling out the countdown to the Internal evolution. Once Kala announced the completed transition, I’d crawled to the belly gun and rotated into space. The Una Shoda had passed the sun and climbed to the transition point. We were about to start the long turn.

  The sun was a good distance away, but to the human eye it was a huge ball of burning orange. I ran an area scan on the targeting system as Kala announced the first arc of the turn.

  “Phelan, any contact?” Agdta asked, “My scan shows nothing in the area.”

  “We are clear of traffic,” I reported.

  The Uno Shoda completed another successful arc. We were a little over an hour and a half into Internal drive and just beginning the fourth arc. It was as if the ship were climbing to the top of a ladder. The gravity pulled us over while the engine drove us up and Agdta’s calculations were gently rocking us over the top in a controlled fall down the other side of the top step. Too much speed and the ion canon wall would keep driving upward while the ship tipped over. The wall would rip itself out of the top of the Clipper ship. Too little speed and we’d be caught in the gradational pull and our arcs would end up pointing us directly into the sun. Agdta’s calculations were critical to the success of the trip over the apex.

  The Patrol Boat arrived as we completed the eight arc. Had it waited for us to be just short of reaching our proper heading? Agdta found it first and a second after her call, my targeting system recognized it.

  It didn’t come from around the sun or from space on a plane with the Uno Shoda. It came from farther out, from deep space. I didn’t like it but, the Patrol Boat’s transponder identified it as a Galactic Navy vessel.

  “Clipper ship, identify yourself,” a woman’s voice demanded.

  “We are the Galactic Merchant Fleet ship Uno Shoda,” Captain Xhosa replied, “Please identify yourself, Navy Patrol Boat?”

  “Uno Shoda you are carrying contraband,” the woman stated, “Cease your arc and maintain your current heading for an hour. That will leave you safe from the gravitational pull and available for boarding.”

  “Phelan get yourself to the Bridge,” Kala said over the intercom, “The Captain wants you here as soon as possible.”

  I took another look in the direction of the Patrol Boat. The only thing I was sure of, at that distance, was it was shaped like a Patrol Boat. It was too far away to see any marking or even the quality of the ship’s skin. Naval ships had a uniformity of repairs so the exterior of a Navy vessel was unmarred. In port you could always recognize a Navy ship from all the others with their mismatched replacement plates. No such visual criteria he
re, so I rotated back into the ship.

  “Ensign Piran, what’s your take on this Patrol Boat?” Xhosa asked as I stepped onto the Bridge.

  “She’s got us out gunned. I’d follow her directions for now,” I replied.

  “For now? Please explain,” the Captain said.

  “A couple of things are bothering me. One is Navy regulations require all ships to identify themselves,” I said, “The other thing, unless it’s an emergence, a Navy ship wouldn’t stop a merchant in mid turn. Ask them again for an identity, sir.”

  “I had planned to and also I agree with your analysis,” he said, “Anything else?”

  “Their direction is worrisome,” I replied, “What would a Patrol Boat be doing out in deep space? I would understand if it were part of a BattleShip’s screen. But a Patrol Boat is not equipped for deep space exploration. So what was it doing out there?”

  “Another good observation,” Xhosa said turning to the ship to ship phone, “Navy Patrol Boat, please identify yourself.”

  “We are the Eine Vili, maintain heading,” she replied.

  “Eine Vili, I’d prefer to complete my course correction,” Xhosa explained, “We have a Galactic Navy officer aboard and he can vouch for our vessel.”

  “What is the name and rank of the Navy personnel?” she asked quickly.

  “Ensign Phelan Oscar Palin is in transit with us,” Xhosa reported, “His papers are in order and he...”

  The voice from the Patrol Boat cut off the next words.

  “The war criminal Phelan Oscar Palin is to be held in custody,” the voice said, “Your crew will be released unharmed once we have taken possession of the prisoner and the crates containing the contraband.”

  “Released unharmed?” Kala asked, “Does anyone feel they aren’t being truthful?”

  “It’s not right,” I added, “The Navy could just seize the crates at plant Station.”

  “I understand your trepidation but, as you’ve noted, we are out gunned. First officer, stop the arc and proceed in the current heading,” Captain Xhosa ordered as he looked hard at me.