It Ain't Over... (Cole & Srexx Book 1)

by Robert M Kerns

  Sasha blanched. “Your family is dead? Oh my goodness, Cole! I am so sorry!”

  Cole shrugged. “It’s not exactly current events. They’ve been dead for over ten years now. But somehow, I doubt this is what brought you to the bridge.”

  Sasha blushed. “No. Talia and I have been talking, and we were wondering if you have any place aboard for a naval officer and medical resident.”

  Cole blinked. “Resident? Talia just completed her residency?”

  “Yes. She had a job waiting for her at a hospital on Aurelius before everything collapsed. She specialized in Internal Medicine. We’ve talked a lot since Caledonia, and there’s no way we’ll be able to go back to our old lives…even if we vindicate our family. People would still give us weird looks and be standoff-ish.”

  “Well, I need a first officer, and the hospital deck is a ghost town right now…a literal ghost town. I’d like to offer her CMO, but on a ship this size, that’s equivalent to the Chief of Staff at a regional health center. My conscience is telling me to hold out for someone with that kind of experience, but we need doctors regardless.”

  “So, what do we need to do?”

  Cole grinned. “You two may not thank me after you’re ‘read in’ to the ship’s company. The DNA sample is…well…not pleasant. Go get Talia, and I’ll instate both of you at the same time. She’ll be Interim CMO until we find someone with the experience we need. Will she have an issue with that?”

  Sasha shook her head. “Nope. She knows she’s just starting out in her career and that there are many people who’ve seen more than she has.”

  “Okay. As soon as you get back here with Talia, we’ll take care of the ‘paperwork.’”

  Chapter Twenty

  Iota Ceti System

  14 July 2999, 09:35 GST

  Sasha sat back in her seat and pushed away from the table. She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Cole, but this just will not work. One person cannot plan an operation of this complexity. Most of my experience is starship tactics, and…well…”

  Cole leaned back in his own seat and chuckled. “I’m just the owner of the ship and a pilot. I have no formal training.”

  Sasha shook her head.

  Cole worked his lower lip between his teeth for a few moments. “There is another option, but I’m not fond of it without the Kiksaliks to verify we can trust them.”

  “You mean the SDF folks on Deck Two.”

  “Yup.”

  Sasha grimaced. “Cole, I have to tell you. I’m not wild about using telepaths as some kind of truth or loyalty testers. That’s dancing too close to invasion of privacy for me.”

  “I can see what you’re saying, Sasha, but think about the situation for a moment. You and your sister represent twenty million credits right now…assuming the Commonwealth would pay up, which I doubt. But whether the Commonwealth can be trusted only comes into play after you or your sister are captured, and that’s assuming they don’t kill you out of hand. The bounties are ‘Dead or Alive.’ I will not put people in positions of extreme trust without knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that I can trust them. There’s no negotiating on this.”

  “I understand, Cole,” Sasha said, sighing. “I do. It’s just…that wasn’t how I was raised.”

  “It wasn’t how I was raised, either, but such is life. Do you want me to reach out to the SDF people?”

  Sasha sighed, shrugging and lifting her arms to add emphasis to the shrug. “I don’t see how we can’t. I’m certain there’s stuff we need to consider that I haven’t even thought of. The more eyes and minds we have on this, the better plan we’ll have at the end.”

  “Okay. See what you can do to start thinking outside the box on this. Maybe talk it over with Srexx. I’m going to Deck Two. Hopefully, I’ll come back with some help.”

  “Haven?” Cole asked as he headed for the nearest transit shaft after leaving the briefing room.

  “Yes, Cole-Captain?”

  “Does the ship have any way to launch probes for remote reconnaissance? I realize the ship probably doesn’t have any; I’m more interested in whether it has a way to launch them.”

  “The ship does not possess dedicated probe launchers, as that specific feature was present in the Class V Scout-Frigates. However—”

  Cole’s eyes gleamed. “I don’t suppose there’s a data core somewhere on this ship that has those schematics…is there?”

  “Uncertain. Records indicate that the mass, unrequested downloading of data from the Gyv’Rathi DataNet is what led to the discovery of Srexxilan’s sentience. It is possible Srexxilan has considerable portions of the Gyv’Rathi technical or scientific databases.”

  Cole entered the up-shaft and started his transit to Deck Two. “Okay. I’ll ask him. Say…those missing weapons we were discussing…does the hull have the hardpoints to mount them?”

  “Yes, including power conduits and control runs all staged. The ship lacks the physical weapons plus the time and work to install and calibrate them.”

  “Haven, did you have something to add to my question about the probe launchers? You said ‘however’ before I interrupted.”

  “While mediocre for its counterparts of the time, the stealth systems present in this ship should be effective against the sensor technology recorded to date.”

  Cole stepped out onto Deck Two, and he couldn’t hold back his grin. “Haven, are you suggesting we use the ship to scout the system?”

  “Since your reactivation of the generator, only this ship’s passive stealth systems have been in use. At no time have the ship’s active stealth systems been engaged.”

  Cole nodded. “Okay. Good to know.”

  Cole turned away from the transit shaft and started his search for Mazzi. Even though the people on Deck Two were no longer Caledonian SDF, they still fell into old habits and relied on Mazzi to be the liaison with Cole and Yeleth. Cole found Mazzi in a bunkroom, sitting on the sidelines of what appeared to be an arm-wrestling match. Cole wasn’t that good at fast counts of people, but it looked like the entire contingent of former SDF personnel were present.

  Most of the people he’d rescued in Caledonia had never seen Cole close-up to recognize him, but the two former officers and former enlisted recognized him, their heightened regard and almost-attention moved throughout the crowd like a wave. Mazzi hopped off the bunk where she was sitting and walked over to where Cole stood just a few feet inside the door.

  “Hey, Captain,” Mazzi said as she approached, an easy smile curling her lips and a slight twinkle in her eyes. “What’s on your mind?”

  “Well, to be honest, two things. First thing, I want your advice on something. Is there somewhere we might talk?”

  Now, Mazzi grinned. “Why, Captain…are you stealing me away?” When Cole blushed a rosy shade of crimson, Mazzi lost her teasing tone, breaking up in silvery laughter. After a couple moments, she regained her composure and her playful manner. “Come on. There’s another bunkroom a couple hatches down that’s not even outfitted.”

  Cole’s eyes went wide. “Oh, shit…I’m sorry! There are mattresses and bed linens and all that kind of stuff on pallets down in Cargo Two. I forgot all about them.”

  “Ah, so you have been holding out on us.” When Cole blushed again and stammered his defense, Mazzi grinned again. “Relax, Captain. I understand. There were five people on this ship when you rescued us. You never expected to need almost two hundred mattresses and such so soon. We pulled the survival supplies and whatever else we could out of the life pods. At least all the extra space makes it better.”

  Cole stepped into the bunkroom and froze. The space was about fifteen meters long by ten meters wide. Fourteen quad-stacks of bunks (that is, four bunks in a vertical stack) lined the space, with an additional quad-stack at each end. Ladders ran up to each level every second stack, the idea being two stacks would share one ladder. A second hatch led out of the bunkroom across from the corridor hatch. Cole did the math in his head, and if he was right, this b
unkroom alone would sleep sixty-four people.

  “Wow,” Cole said, giving the space a serious look-over, “this is kind of intense.”

  “And this is one of the smaller ones,” Mazzi said. “Most of the berthing compartments on this deck make this one look like a closet. So, what did you want to discuss?”

  “Uhm, right…yeah.” Cole forced his attention away from the bunkroom and turned to Mazzi. “So, here’s my situation. Remember the HR staff I mentioned? The only reason I want them to vet people before I hire anyone is that I have two people aboard who have been…targeted, shall we say…by the new Provisional Parliament on Aurelius. I don’t know your people, beyond getting a raw deal in Caledonia by having their life pods shot out from under them, but at the same time, I don’t want to hire anyone who’ll make trouble for one of mine later on. Follow so far?”

  Mazzi nodded.

  “The HR staff I need to recruit are Kiksaliks. I don’t know if you’re aware, but they’re telepathic. They’ll be able to tell me whether a prospective recruit is going to sell out my people when I introduce them. The problem, there, is that my first officer and I have to plan an operation to free the Kiksaliks when one of the people involved in the planning—namely, me—has no operational experience beyond winging it and trusting to blind luck.”

  Mazzi winced.

  “So, you see my conundrum, right?”

  Mazzi nodded. “You need people with operational experience whom you can trust. Well, Captain, it so happens we’re all grateful and appreciative you stepped in back in Caledonia, and every one of us signed up to be a part of something bigger than ourselves…something we could help build. Aurelian System Defense Forces aren’t like so-called ‘traditional’ militaries. The Aurelian Navy is the navy; put ‘em in a land battle, and they’re hopeless. The Aurelian Army is in the same situation if you put ‘em in a battle aboard a ship; they’re just as likely to shoot something that will blow up themselves and everyone else. The Aurelian Marines are a little better, but not much. We SDF people train for everything: space, land, and air engagements. Some of my people in there were looking forward to their rotation to flight duty on Caledonia.”

  “Pilots…you mean like fighter pilots?”

  “Yeah. They love it and were a little bummed they can’t go back.”

  Cole broke out into a huge grin. “Boy, am I going to make their day.”

  Mazzi frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  “The civilization that built this ship? They designed it as a battle-carrier. I’m not sure what all that entails, but the armament mix I’ve seen makes me think it’s a serious cross between a battleship and a carrier. I mean, you saw how it shrugged off weapons fire from a small task force. Sure, they ate into the second shield layer…but it was the second shield layer. I still had another shield layer to go before they even touched my armor, and that’s not counting the two additional layers the ship should have.”

  “But…but starfighters are impractical! Everyone knows that! The fuel tank and life-support system requirements negate the whole design of craft like fighters or bombers in space, not to mention the whole concept of attitude control and g-force limitations on human physiology.”

  Cole shrugged. “You’re correct, as far as you go. But suppose you had the technology to build the life support systems in one of our hard-suits into a suit that looked like a bulkier merchant ship’s jumpsuit? Oh…and if you also had the technology to build propellant-less propulsion systems? And inertial dampening systems light-years beyond even our experimental tech? How about then? Are fighters and bombers still impractical? Mazzi, I’ve seen the hangar decks on this ship; I’ve walked through them. Hangar One has seventy-eight maintenance/lock-down spaces configured for two craft per space, and Hangar Two has spaces for dropships, assault shuttles, or cargo shuttles.”

  “Stars and space, Cole! Can you even afford to hire that many people?”

  The current balance of the ship’s account floated through Cole’s mind, followed by the contents of his stash. Cole smiled. “Yeah…yeah, I can.”

  “Come on. We need to go talk to my people.” Mazzi grabbed Cole by the arm and almost dragged him out of the bunkroom. “Say…who do you have aboard that the Provisional Parliament wants so bad, anyway?”

  Cole grinned. “Sasha and Talia Thyrray.”

  Mazzi stopped cold, turning to stare at Cole half-way out of the hatch to the corridor. Her gaze was intent, deadly serious even. “Seriously, Cole? You better not be joking around here. That’s not something you joke about with Aurelians, especially working and middle-class Aurelians.”

  “Why is that, Mazzi?”

  “Sure, the Thyrrays are aristocrats. Sasha’s older brother probably gets more income from his trust fund by the week than I’ll see in a year…well, at least he did. But no matter how rich the family was, no matter how many pies they had their fingers in, there wasn’t one of them that didn’t stand up for the people against the government and the special interests. When the major corporations or the other aristocrats would get uppity or out of line, the Thyrrays were always there to remind them that the government served everyone…not just those who could afford to pay more. That whole business about Paol Thyrray leading an attack that destroyed Parliament? That’s utter nonsense. You ask anyone who’s ever worked for a living; every single one will tell you the same thing. Paol Thyrray is no traitor, and neither is anyone in his family. They’ve built their power and their wealth protecting us. The Thyrrays are the Colesons of the Commonwealth, even if that era is past now. So, you tell me straight, Cole. Do you really have Sasha and Talia Thyrray on this ship?”

  “Sasha’s my first officer. I rescued her back in Pyllesc when someone ejected her out of an airlock from the Adran Jordeen. The only reason we came to Caledonia in the first place was to rescue Talia. She was finishing up her residency after med school there, and she signed on to be one of my doctors on the hospital deck.”

  Mazzi’s eyes burned with a zealous fire Cole hadn’t seen before. She grabbed his arm once more and pulled him again. “Come on. We need to have you talk to my people.”

  In the end, Mazzi’s people wouldn’t listen to Cole. They demanded proof that Sasha and Talia Thyrray were alive, well, and on the ship. Cole sighed and planted himself on a bunk.

  “Srexx? Could you have Sasha and Talia come to Deck Two, please? And give them directions to my location once they’re on the deck?”

  A few minutes later, the sisters stepped into the mess-hall. Everyone present surged to their feet—even Mazzi—and Cole feared Sasha and her sister were about to be mobbed. But his fears were unfounded. The former SDF personnel formed an impromptu receiving line, greeting each sister and shaking their hands and expressing how relieved he or she was that they were alive and well and safe. Talia looked a little overwhelmed by it all, but Sasha showed the training and experience she’d gained at her father’s side, smiling and nodding as she shook each person’s hand and accepted their well-wishes.

  When there were only twenty or so at most waiting to greet Sasha and Talia, Cole noticed Mazzi standing just outside his personal space. Her eyes scanned her people, her expression evaluating. After a few moments, she shifted her attention to Cole.

  “You have a start on your crew, Cole. These people would walk through fire for you now.” Mazzi scoffed. “Forget fire. They’d walk through lava for you and those girls; guess you didn’t need your mind-readers after all.”

  Cole grinned. “Oh, I still do…just not for your people.” He didn’t have the heart to tell her he would still run her people by any Kiksaliks he recruited just to confirm their devotion to Sasha and her sister. Something a friend had told him many years before: trust…but verify.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Now that Cole was building something of a crew, he looked into all the positions aboard that needed staffing, with an eye toward the immediate future of assaulting the slave market in Iota Ceti. Most of the former SDF people filled out roles
on the weapons deck or in the signals intelligence compartment, which also happened to control the ship’s stealth systems. What Cole wasn’t expecting out of his impromptu recruitment drive, however, was finding a chief engineer. Maxwell Logan looked every inch the proverbial grizzled, no-nonsense veteran, and he acted the part, too…until he found out the ship was powered by a singularity-based generator and used propellent-less propulsion. Then, you would’ve thought he was a kid sitting before a mountain of presents on his birthday. He almost begged Cole to be the ship’s chief engineer.

  Alessandra Mazzi came aboard as the weapons/tactical officer. Wixil was a little put out about that, until Cole said he was hoping she’d be the assistant under Mazzi. Mazzi knew Wixil had been with Cole longer than she had been, and she recognized Wixil had far more youthful enthusiasm than training and experience. She demonstrated her skill with people (and adolescents) when she accepted Cole’s ruling on what would have been her prerogative to choose her assistant without batting an eye.

  The people Cole had rescued in Caledonia weren’t a perfect fit across the board, though, and he had teams of spacers or other ratings overseen by NCOs reporting to Sasha, like the eight spacers who signed up for small craft maintenance when Cole had no small craft beyond the troop shuttle or the five people who wanted to be starfighter pilots. It was not an ideal situation.

  Iota Ceti System

  15 July 2999, 10:57 GST

  Cole sat at the helm. Mazzi and Wixil sat at the weapons station. A person whose name Cole still couldn’t remember sat at the comms station. Sasha sat in the command chair.

  “All decks, all sections, report ready,” the person at comms said.

  Sasha shook her head. “This is so odd, Cole. Are you sure you don’t want this seat? There are at least three different pilots in the Caledonia people. The first officer shouldn’t be giving the captain orders.”