First Command

by Rodney Smith

  “Our agreement with the late Mr. Delphant is still in force. Indigo Corporation has an exclusive license to import flamestones from the Empire. Please pass our condolences to Mr. Delphant’s family. His passing was a terrible loss to Empire-Republic relations.”

  “I am not one to ask favors of you without a quid pro quo, as you call it. I have a 10-liter shipment container of flamestones that I can turn over to you at our next meeting. Contact me at the link on the other message when you are ready to trade.”

  “Again, it is so good to find you well and we look forward to trading with you. Farewell.”

  Shepler knew what T’Polla was asking for and why. He knew that T’Polla was probably a K’Rang agent, but he didn’t care. Neither did Delphant when he was alive. Of course, if they had gone to the K’Rang with the measly data Delphant had procured, there wouldn’t be 30 liters of flamestones on their company asteroid. It had been easy to acquire the info they really wanted.

  Shepler knew there was no way the K’Rang Empire was ever going to conquer the Republic. All they could do was snipe around the borders. Eventually the Republic would tire of this and go in and conquer them world-by-world. He could give them everything they asked for and it wouldn’t change the inevitable.

  Now, whom did he know that could get him what he needed?

  * * * * *

  H’Topa took off his heavy merchant robe and hung it on a hook. He supposed it was the type of robe a merchant would wear. The K’Rang had no merchant class or political class. There were the nobles and there were warriors. The nobles ran the Empire, electing the three Elders that ran the day-to-day affairs. There was no longer an emperor. Years of internal palace intrigue left the K’Rang weakened and disjointed. The K’Rang Empire was heading to ruin when the dukes and barons revolted against the Emperor. The Emperor was put to the sword, as were all his palace minions. The three main blocs of nobles each voted an Elder to run the Empire. The blocs shifted and changed over the years and only one of the original three blocs still provided an Elder, but the Empire prospered under their rule.

  The rest of the K’Rang were warriors. K’Rang females traditionally were warrior mothers. They gave birth to warriors and administered the crèches, but of late, had started to become warriors. There was initial resistance to this, but experience showed that while they were not the same as male warriors, they brought unique skills and aptitudes that males sometimes never develop. Kittens were warriors in training for the day they were ready to serve the Empire.

  Warriors comprised two classes: warriors and shadow warriors. Shadow warriors were the best of the warrior class, as determined through rigorous testing from kittenhood through adult. Those judged best at providing skills the Shadow Force required became shadow warriors.

  Shadow Force was the K’Rang Imperial Guard. A regiment always guarded Imperial Hall. A Shadow Force Task Force always orbited G’Durin. Shadow Force always had the first line equipment and ships.

  Regular warriors’ weapons and ships were always a touch inferior to their Shadow equivalent, and also older on average. Shadow Force ships were upgraded in the yards every five years. The warriors’ ships were modernized every ten years. Although the warrior fleet outnumbers the Shadow Fleet, they were kept stationed on the outer reaches of the Empire. The Shadow Fleet patrolled the Empire’s inner main worlds.

  Technically there was no merchant class. There were warriors that were in charge of production and supply for the warrior class and the women and kittens directly. Some even were in charge of providing luxuries and necessities to the nobility. Warriors supporting other warriors ran factories, shipyards, farms, mines, and lumber mills. The K’Rang just considered it logistics.

  While only royalty and their relations were allowed to live permanently on G’Durin, a small number of military and bureaucrats lived on the home world during their assignments, such as the Chief of the Regular Fleet and his staff. H’Topa and J’Kraul’s duties as Shadow Warriors in the Intel HQ also gave them authority to live on G’Durin. Provided Mr. Shepler was able to acquire what was needed, they would continue to stay on G’Durin and above ground. The main military cemetery so close to the city center was a constant reminder that there was more than one way to be granted permanent residence on G’Durin.

  H’Topa thought, “Mr. Shepler was helpful before in getting us long-range communications design information. Let us see if he can get what we need this time.” H’Topa had seen Shepler’s eyes light up at the thought of a reestablished supply of flamestones. “Perhaps he will be motivated to do what we ask if we ask him the right way.”

  “Captain M’Toth, set course for Shepard. It seems our friend is not on Fomalhaut after all.”

  * * * * *

  Alistair Bennett noticed the highly encrypted data stream pass through the network. It drew his computer’s attention because it followed the same data path as a posting to a suspect forum. He would never know the contents, but he suspected something was being put in place.

  He ran his trace routine to see if he could pinpoint the terminal that received the stream. Not only was the stream encrypted, but the data packets comprising the stream were de-multiplexed and sent though multiple links to be multiplexed back together at the receiving terminal. He let the computer work on it, but did not hold out hope.

  Turning his attention to other matters, he set the computer to work on correlating suspected espionage activity and ship arrivals and departures. He was looking for patterns that would lead to K’Rang courier ships bringing in instructions and leaving with reports and/or equipment. The computer broke out a number of ships that were in the area during periods of high espionage activity. He had the computer look for any information on these suspect ships that related to registry and ownership. The K’Rang had the same problem he would have if he wanted to task an agent in the K’Rang Empire. There were no direct communications or data links between the two adversaries. All message traffic had to be carried in and input into the communications stream once the courier ship came in range of a network node. There were K’Rang ships in Human space doing the same thing. Alistair took another nap while the tireless computer trudged through the network, looking for those ships.

  * * * * *

  Kelly took a tour around his ship and liked what he saw. He sat down for coffee with Chiefs Austin and Pennypacker, thanking them for their service to the ship and saying how much they were going to be missed. He kidded Cookie about not being able to teach him to cook. He then asked them, even though their transfers were months away, if they had any recommendations for their replacements. Both Chiefs recommended people on other Scout Force ships.

  Kelly was unsure if that could be made to happen. He told them both that he was considered sort of a favorite with the Admiral, but not so much that he could raid from other captain’s rosters.

  Chief Austin replied, ”Culinary Specialist First Class Donna Robinson is first cook on the Virtuous. I trained her. She’s good. She just came out on the Chiefs’ list. She’s low on the list, but she’ll be looking for a job when she makes Chief. The Virtuous won’t have a billet for her then. That should be right about the time I’m out-processing. Let Yeoman Benitez ask personnel for who is coming up for promotion about the time I leave. They’ll do the research for you and take the hit with the captain of the Vigorous for stripping away his first cook.”

  Chief Pennypacker said, “Gunners Mate First Class Tom Hendrickson, on the Vengeance, must be in the same boat as Robinson. He won’t have a billet either, once he makes Chief. He’s one of my wife’s cousins, but he’s a good gunner. The Chief he works for is lazy and makes him do all the work. He’s ready for his own section, where he gets the credit for what goes right and not just the blame when things go wrong. I suggest you have Benitez ask about filling both our positions as Cookie suggested. Personnel will make the transfers to keep their books straight. Let them take the heat from the other captains.”

  Kelly liked their suggestions, but wante
d to see both personnel files first. He made a note for Benitez to pull the files.

  * * * * *

  H’Topa’s next action was to contact the agent that acquired the one-third copy of the design segment. He contacted the agent’s dead drop servicer and arranged a transfer of twice the normal payment. He knew this agent had a family problem and always needed credits. Double pay would reward him for this coup and encourage him to be more aggressive in the future.

  An idea started forming in H’Topa’s head, a way to get all three segments of the design plan. He called up data on the plant’s work force. He was so thankful Humans had a compulsion to set up publically available line and block charts of who worked for whom and who was in charge. It made his job so much easier, especially as the charts so often wound up in the trash. He would have to find a way to get the other two plant foremen to review their copies of the design at the same time. H’Topa began to put a plan together.

  * * * * *

  Yeoman Benitez knocked on Kelly’s cabin door and came in with a message for him. He put aside the personnel files he was reviewing and took the message. It was from Scout Force operations, and said to meet up with Fleet Intelligence Reporting Officer Alistair Bennett, in orbit above Shepard. The Vigilant was to assist Alistair in his investigations. It gave the coordinates and a short-range frequency for coordination.

  Kelly called in Connie and gave her their new destination.

  “What’s there, sir?”

  Kelly replied, “A Fleet Intel Reporting Officer and his ship. We get to help him bust up some spies.”

  “Will there be anything else?”

  “No, not right now.”

  She left and Kelly got back to his two potential replacement chiefs’ personnel files.

  * * * * *

  Alistair awoke as his computer chimed that it was finished. It found five ships that were in or near the site of suspected espionage activity. They were all registered on third tier worlds, and were about the same type and class. All were older medium cargo ships, not unlike Alistair’s, but slightly larger. They had all been built in second tier world shipyards that were no longer in business. There were too many coincidences in this list.

  He put together a short order to the Vigilant to be handed over when they docked, instructing the Vigilant to ping the transponder on any of these ships in orbit over Shepard. If Kelly got a hit on one, he was to stop and board the ship for inspection for safety and navigation purposes. One of them was passing instructions to the operatives. That should about do it. Now all he had to do was wait for the Vigilant to appear.

  He turned back to his computer and had it start looking for flight plans for any of these ships in or near Shepard. As the computer quietly churned through the data, he took another catnap.

  * * * * *

  Alan Shepler contacted a source he’d used before to get information on the Blake’s FTL comms system. He dialed the number and a male voice answered, “Security, how may I help you?”

  “Oh, I’m dreadfully sorry. I was trying to reach 0258-555-6768.”

  He apologized for the wrong number, hung up, and waited.

  Thirty minutes later, a call came in, asking for Mr. Miller. Shepler said he was Miller and the call went through.

  “Mr. Miller, so good to hear from you again. What can I do for you?”

  “I’m trying to build a shed. I have all the material, but I’ve lost my plan.”

  “Do you remember the plan number?”

  “I don’t remember the plan number, but remember that it is a three-part plan.”

  “I may not be able to help you get that particular plan, but I will see what I can do. How soon do you need it?”

  “Thank you, I need it as soon as possible. This is very important and I’m sure I could find some way to repay you for your kindness in this matter. You have a good day.”

  Bart Morton, the chief security officer supporting the Theoretical and Applied Scientific Research Facility on Gagarin, hung up the phone and pondered over what he had just been asked. The last time he had taken a call from Mr. Miller, the job had been simple. There were no elaborate security measures for that data. It was simply a matter of calling up the data on an open terminal someone had left on and transferring the data to his pocket terminal, then he transferred that information to a data device and left it under the lip of a recently emptied trashcan in Cosmonaut Park. His very generous payment was found inside the cracked base of a cast iron street lamp three blocks away.

  This ring data, however, was the most tightly secured data he had ever known. The security plan had been developed by a genius. Every security hole had been covered. Nothing had been left to chance. He would love to meet whoever developed it. It had to be someone in Fleet Intel with enormous resources at his disposal. Nonetheless, Mr. Miller had deep pockets and Morton’s mistress, Silke, had expensive tastes.

  Chapter Five

  Kelly saw the small cargo ship appear as they drew closer, exactly where the coordinates given in his orders had said it would be. He ordered the helmsman to hold off 50 km from the cargo ship until he established positive communications and identity.

  He exchanged code words on short-range communications with the ship’s occupant. Determining that he had the right ship, he requested permission to dock; receiving it, Kelly ordered the helm to move forward and dock.

  The docking was smooth and sure. Kelly made a note to see to promoting this helmsman as soon as possible. She was his best and most consistent helmsman.

  Kelly went to the hatch and cycled it open, where a tall blonde man with long hair and a full trimmed beard met him. Kelly shook his hand and received a firm grip back.

  “Mr. Bennett, I’m LCDR Kelly Blake, of the Vigilant.”

  “Captain, come aboard and let me brief you on what I have found out so far.”

  Kelly asked if he could have his XO and Senior Chief sit in. When Alistair agreed, he called Connie and Chief B to the hatch. Alistair led them into the interior of his ship to a central conference table. A white cat was curled up on the table. Alistair shooed the cat and called up a screen at the end of the table. He motioned them to sit, then went through what he had determined so far.

  He told them of the agent network, laying out every node of the network he had uncovered to date. He showed them the dead drop servicers, credits handlers, and transporters, and how he identified the spies through their use of the network forums.

  Kelly pulled out his pocket terminal and transferred the data his folks had developed. Alistair whistled when he saw the data. Thanking Kelly for his parents’ work, he jokingly asked if they might consider doing more work for Fleet Intel some time.

  The combined data laid out the network in detail. It showed the data flow from the spies to the dead drop servicers and network forums to the transporters. There the path stopped, until Alistair transferred in the data from his analysis of the possible courier ships. It showed the flow of credits and instructions in, but how those got to and from K’Rang space was a mystery.

  Alistair held back his previous order and tasked Kelly to find the courier ship’s infiltration and exfiltration paths. He also charged him with taking out any courier ships that might be leaving with critical data. His gut told him that one might show up and soon. He passed Kelly the parameters he had developed on the courier ships to plug into the Vigilant’s computer system. Kelly passed that to Chief B.

  With the preliminaries out of the way, Alistair invited them all to stay for tea. Kelly declined, and Chief B wanted to get the courier ship parameters to sensors, so they could start tracking ships coming into the system. Connie expressed a liking for tea, so she stayed behind.

  It was quiet in the sector over the next few days, and Connie and Alistair had time to become quite chummy. She was constantly finding excuses to go visit or coordinate. Kelly noticed, but it didn’t interfere with her duties. Considering the loneliness a reporting officer must experience, he let it go on as an act of mercy. />
  * * * * *

  The D’Ran entered the system on the far side from where Alistair and the Vigilant were orbiting. The planetary data system interrogated the ship’s data banks for name, registry, and ownership, and charged it a 200-credit system entry fee.

  The D’Ran did not cause Alistair’s computer to alert because it was not like the other courier ships. It was not registered under a flag of convenience, but under a first tier world flag. It was not nondescript – in fact, it was painted bright red with an eagle’s head painted on its nose. It employed the “hide in plain sight” camouflage scheme.

  H’Topa had the captain park the ship in and amongst ships waiting for clearance to land at various spaceports on the planet below. After a few days, as ships came and went, no one noticed them anymore.

  H’Topa linked into the planet’s data network and transmitted a number of taskings to his agents and to those belonging to other agent handlers back on G’Durin. He also received a number of reports from his and other handlers’ agents.

  * * * * *

  Alarms went off on Alistair’s console as the outgoing messages hit the network. Alistair called over to the Vigilant and asked if a courier ship had arrived in sector. They replied that no ships matching the parameters had arrived or left the system since they started scanning for them.

  Alistair knew one of the ships had to be a courier ship. He checked their registries and found all legally registered in their system of origin and insured. The insurance came from reputable ship underwriters. He analyzed the IP address and saw it was from an unknown ship in orbit, using a link to the worldwide broadcast network. He called up every ship arrival in the past week and looked for anomalies. He came up with less than a dozen suspects. He needed a way to whittle down the list.