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

by Robert M Kerns

  In Transit to the Gate

  Tristan’s Gate System

  8 October 2999, 10:17 GST

  Still about twelve hours out from the Gate, Cole entered the bridge and sat at the helm, learning a sizeable portion of the Tristan’s Gate SDF had come out to meet them. Once the lightspeed comms lag was manageable, Cole hailed the SDF formation. A response came without delay.

  “This is Major Clark Hanson of the Tristan’s Gate SDF. Please, identify yourselves and state your intentions.”

  Cole looked over his shoulder and gestured for Sasha to handle it.

  “Major Hanson,” Sasha said, “this is Commander Sasha Thyrray, first officer of the Battle-Carrier Haven. The ships you see accompanying us have resigned from the Aurelian Navy. They wanted to sign on with me, but since I’ve chosen to sign on with Cole, they are now ships of Haven Enterprises. It’s an imperfect solution while we figure everything out, but it’s the best we could do in the time we had. Every man and woman aboard those ships—all thirteen thousand two-hundred ninety-three of them—transmitted a letter of resignation to the Aurelian Chief of Naval Operations before our departure from Oriolis. As Haven lacks sufficient lift capacity to support those numbers, we…borrowed…the vessels until we develop an alternative. Our intentions are to approach the Gate, with Haven docking to deliver my grandparents, Sev and Emily Vance, several other relatives, many people who were being held as political prisoners on Oriolis VI…and all that remains of Harlon’s Howlers, including Harlon Hanson himself.”

  For a few seconds, the only sound coming over the comms channel was cheering. At last, though, decorum returned…well, mostly. “Soosh,” Major Hanson said, “would you please tell my cousin I’m looking forward to those beers he owes me?”

  “I’ll be happy to do that, but you should know my grandparents have already communicated with O’Shaughnessy’s and reserved their entire establishment for a party to celebrate Harlon’s return. We’re supposed to dock late tonight, and the party starts at noon tomorrow. Being Harlon’s cousin and given your close ties to our family, I’m sure I could wrangle you an invitation…as long as you’re nice to me.”

  “Sasha, you are an evil woman,” Major Hanson said, laughing. “With your permission, Haven, we’ll escort you in. The sudden appearance of such a large fleet alarmed the system leadership a bit.”

  “Escort away, SDF,” Sasha said. “We appreciate the welcome. Haven out.”

  O’Shaughnessy’s, The Gate

  Tristan’s Gate System

  9 October 2999, 12:00 GST

  In the end, Cole could not avoid attending the party, despite his best efforts. He could make it a brief appearance, however, even though he was forced to sit through Emily’s re-telling of his approach to the detention facility and Harlon’s account of their conversation just before departure. When Harlon reached the comment about ‘just because they’re named dropships, that doesn’t mean you can actually drop them,’ the entire attendance of the party erupted in laughter. Cole laughed along, too. Before long, though, Cole slipped out with the crew change, a rotation that had been set up so that O’Shaughnessy’s wouldn’t be overwhelmed by the almost forty-three-hundred crew of Haven who were invited to the party.

  Music accompanied by cheers and singing filled O’Shaughnessy’s as the Vance and Hanson clans came together to celebrate Harlon’s rescue from Oriolis, a sign on the corridor hatch announcing the establishment closed for a private party. Sasha smiled as she watched Talia swing around the dance floor from one person’s arm to the next, like many of the dancers out there, and she reflected on how easy it was to set aside the cares weighing on her soul in such an ambiance. A small voice in her mind tried to assert that she had no business being merry and happy while she and her sister had dead-or-alive bounties on their heads, not to mention whatever fate her parents and older brother may have already faced, but Sasha couldn’t quite give that voice much credence. Sasha didn’t know how they would get those bounties and charges lifted, but Cole didn’t doubt it in the least. It was easy to believe in that outcome, given Cole’s utter certainty it would happen; so far, he had accomplished everything else he’d set out to do. But lifting the bounties and the charges that went with them wasn’t a simple matter of retrieving people from some planet; now, they had to go up against the Aurelian Commonwealth—or at least what remained of the Commonwealth, and that struck Sasha as an altogether different proposition.

  “‘Tis most unseemly for a lady so fair to carry such cares in so happy a venue,” a voice said from Sasha’s left side. In normal circumstances, the statement would have been a whisper, but no whisper would survive in O’Shaughnessy’s tonight.

  Sasha turned and found Garrett standing at her elbow. Sasha grinned, saying, “Well, now…I haven’t seen much of you lately, Garrett. Where have you been hiding?”

  Garrett shrugged. “Oh, here and there. I was doing some work for a friend that took me away from Tristan’s Gate for a while. I just made it back in time to crash the party.”

  “Is that so?” Sasha asked. “Anyone I know?”

  Garrett grinned. “Oh, I’m sure there’s a chance you might recognize the name, but just like lawyers and private investigators, I never discuss my clients.”

  Sasha was so fixated on Garrett that she never noticed one of O’Shaughnessy’s servers pass by her in the crowd and slip a tiny object into the right-front pocket of her trousers…but Garrett noticed. Garrett noticed and marked that server in his mind.

  “Have it your way,” Sasha said, “but feel free to stay and enjoy the festivities.”

  Just then, one of Sasha’s distant cousins appeared at her elbow, urging her that there was someone she must meet. Garrett used the conversation as a cover to slip the item delivered by the server back out of Sasha’s pocket. It was a standard-issue data card; matter of fact, it looked like the model sold in one of the shops in the station’s market. Garrett deftly returned the data card to Sasha’s pocket and melted back into the crowd.

  When Sasha finished with her cousin’s friends, she turned back to re-engage with Garrett, only to find that the man had disappeared. Everyone she asked about him admitted to seeing her talking with someone, but no one seemed to know what had become of him. Frustration circled Sasha’s mind at losing track of Garrett, but there was nothing for it. She turned her attention back to party and put her best effort into enjoying herself.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Docking Slip 12, The Gate

  Tristan’s Gate System

  9 October 2999, 16:47 GST

  Cole approached the airlock that would permit him entrance to Haven. He felt antsy, almost on edge. He felt like he had forty years of work to do and six months in which to accomplish it all. Looking back over his life these last few years, he realized his mistake now. He was foolish to think he could slip away and live somewhere in the back of beyond and not care what happened to the people around him. He wasn’t sure just what had been the catalyst for his epiphany…Srexx’s treatment by his creators, the way Sasha and Talia had been treated by someone seeking power. It could have been either or both of those. For that matter, it made his blood boil to think of how the ‘Provisional’ Parliament was treating the people it was supposed to defend and protect.

  Cole realized now that his place was in the vanguard, leading by example. The people who had chosen or asked to sign on with him were his people now, and woe be unto anyone who bore them ill will.

  A faint sound that was out of place drew Cole’s attention, and he spun, pivoting on his left heel and backing toward the airlock. He saw his old friend Garrett standing a short distance away.

  “Well, now I know I’m getting old,” Garrett said. “You never caught on to me before.”

  Cole laughed. “You’re not old, Garrett; you’re experienced.”

  Garrett shared a laugh for a moment before he sobered. “Do you have a couple minutes? We need to talk.”

  Cole nodded toward the airlock, asking, “
Office or day-cabin?”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Garrett replied.

  Cole led him through the airlock and took the nearest transit shaft down to Deck Three. Yes, he knew he had the Captain’s quarters up on Deck One, but he took one look in there and shivered. It was big enough you could almost play a professional sports match in there. Ever since that one glance, he’d lived in the Captain’s day-cabin on Deck Three, just across the corridor from the port hatch to the bridge.

  Once they were seated, Cole gestured for Garrett to continue, saying, “So, what’s on your mind?”

  “I couldn’t find information on the source of the bounties and warrants. It’s not pretty in the Commonwealth anymore, Cole. I don’t know if you have any reason to go in there, but if you don’t, don’t get any. They’re blockading the jump gates wholesale, stating that they’re for military and government use only.”

  Cole almost saw red. “That violates…what…six different articles of the contracts with CIE?”

  “At least…probably more. I managed to trace the actual coup to a guy by the name of General Draketh Lindrick. This guy is a slippery bastard; he seems to have his fingers in a lot of pies you wouldn’t expect for a general. What little I could learn about the power structure in Aurelius pointed toward Lindrick pulling the strings of the Provisional Parliament. He’s behind the Carnelian Bloc coming into the war on the Parliament’s side; he called in some favors he’d built up over there.” Garrett sighed. “Cole, it is a mess out there. Musilar ships have started moving against the Carnelian Bloc, which has pulled some of their forces out of the Commonwealth, but I heard rumblings that the Parliament would send ‘loyalist’ forces into the Duchy in retaliation. This is shaping up to be a true interstellar war, unlike anything we’ve seen in centuries…maybe even the kind of war we haven’t seen since we spread out from Earth. Oh…and that’s not all.”

  “What’s not all?” Cole asked.

  “I crashed the party at O’Shaughnessy’s and had fun with your first officer. She doesn’t know about our arrangement, and I played on that. Anyway, while we were talking, a server slipped a data card into Sasha’s pocket. Sasha didn’t even notice that I could tell, and since I’d been playing just moments before, I knew she wouldn’t trust me enough to tell me about it if I asked. I located the server in O’Shaughnessy’s personnel database, though, and I have her home address.”

  Cole’s expression hardened. He didn’t like people messing with his people. “Go say hi, and take Red with you just in case. Wait. How did you know it was a data card?”

  “While Sasha was engaged with another conversation, I helped myself to the contents of her pocket. At least those skills haven’t left me yet.” Garrett shrugged. “The shift logs indicate she’ll be working for another five hours or so, so we have time to do it right. From what I saw in her personnel file, she doesn’t strike me as the mastermind type…more likely an unwitting pawn and easily sacrificed. No. I think I want to talk to the person who hired her.”

  “Well, I’m not about to jiggle your elbow on something like this,” Cole said. “You know more about it than I do, and besides, I have enough to keep me busy well into the next century.”

  Garrett smiled. “So, where do I find this Red you mentioned?”

  “Not sure. He’s an Igthon the size of Jupiter, so he’s not easy to miss. Hang on a second.” Cole accessed his implant and called the bridge, routing the call through the speakers and microphone in his day-cabin.

  The speakers chirped right before they broadcast, “Bridge here, Jennings speaking.”

  “Jennings, this is Cole. Do you have any record of Red signing off the ship?”

  “One moment, Captain,” Jennings said, followed by some silence. “Yes, I have his departure logged right here, but he came back aboard about twenty minutes ago.”

  Cole grinned. “Do you mind paging him and asking him to come to my day-cabin, please?”

  “I’m on it, sir.”

  “Thanks, Jennings. Cole out.”

  Cole and Garrett chatted about small, inconsequential things for the next few minutes until the hatch chime sounded. Cole used his implant to open the hatch, and Red ducked through the opening.

  “You wanted to see me, Captain?” the Igthon asked in his deep rumbling voice.

  “I did, Red. Thank you for coming. This is Garrett, my oldest living friend. He’s investigating the situation with Sasha and her family for me, and I would like for you to work with him this evening while he questions a few people. Is that something you feel you can support?”

  Red remained silent for several moments before he delivered a slow nod, laden with certainty and conviction. “Commander Thyrray and her sister are good, honorable people, Captain. It will be my pleasure to assist with any operation that will bring those who would attack either of them to light.”

  “Excellent,” Cole said. “Thank you, Red.”

  “The first person we’ll be speaking with,” Garrett said, “is a young woman who works at O’Shaughnessy’s. I watched her slip something into Sasha’s pocket during the party today. I will say a lot of things during the questioning and ask you a question or two to set the mood, but any implications I make or hints I lay down are just to inspire the young woman to feel fear and be amendable to sharing what she knows. I will not hurt her; I’m pretty sure she’s an unsuspecting innocent in all this. Does any of that present a problem for you?”

  “No. Not at all.”

  Iveanne stepped into her cubic on one of the residential levels of the Gate and leaned back against the closed hatch. She felt so relieved to be home at last. If she’d known there’d be a private party the day she agreed to switch shifts, she never would have said ‘yes.’ Ten hours serving drinks, entrees, and finger foods to a horde of people made up of both the Vance and Harlon clans didn’t make for a fun night at work. Ah, well…at least she’d get a nice stack of credits from that guy who asked her to slip a data card to one of the party’s attendees. The picture he’d shown her looked familiar, but Iveanne didn’t care enough about the various celebrities around the galaxy to recognize them on sight.

  Iveanne reached out in the darkness and fumbled at the hatch coaming as she sought the control to turn on the lights. Her fingers touched a mass of loose wires just as the lights came on without her command. The space now lit, Iveanne frowned at seeing a mass of wires dangling out of the hatch coaming where the control pad should be…the same control pad that contained an emergency call button to Station Security.

  “I apologize for the damage to your residence,” a smooth voice said from behind her. Iveanne spun and let out a small scream at seeing two people she didn’t know in her home. A Human man sat in her favorite chair, and a male Igthon with ginger-colored fur stood behind the chair with his thick muscular arms crossed over his chest, towering over the Human. The Igthon was so tall, in fact, the tips of perked ears almost brushed the ceiling.

  “I preferred to disable the call button with finesse,” the Human continued in that smooth voice, “but my associate grew impatient and…well, you see the result. Have a seat, Iveanne Doryen. We need to discuss why you’d slip something to one of my employer’s friends.”

  “W-Who are you?” Iveanne asked over trembling lips.

  The man smiled. It was a very charming and disarming smile, most at odds with the implied menace of the situation. “My dear, I’ve used so many names in so many star systems across so many years. It’s a gamble whether I even remember the name my family gave me. Is there a specific name you prefer?”

  “Uhm…” Iveanne felt her knees tremble, as her mind filled with one unpleasant outcome after another for her current situation. It wasn’t long before she felt leaning against the entry hatch was all the reason she hadn’t collapsed.

  Her distress was noticeable to her ‘guests,’ almost garish in its blatancy, and the man sighed. “You may call me Garrett, I suppose, and I suggest you sit down before you fall down. You look none too steady on your f
eet just now.”

  Iveanne weaved her way to her other armchair on quivery legs, and her descent into it looked to be more of a not-quite-fall than a deliberate, controlled movement.

  “There we go,” the man called Garrett said. “Don’t you feel better already? Just imagine how much better you’ll feel if you tell me what I want to know.”

  “I-I don’t know anything. A guy paid me two-hundred-fifty credits to slip a woman a data card, and he told me he’d pay me seven-hundred fifty more when I told him I did it. That’s it. That’s all I know.”

  “What do you think?” Garrett asked, looking up toward the Igthon behind him.

  “I don’t smell urine,” the Igthon said in a deep rumbling voice. “She’s not afraid yet.”

  Garrett sighed. “I told you coming into this that torture wasn’t an option. I asked you along just in case she had a boyfriend or something. I’m not a young man in my prime anymore, you know.” Garrett turned his attention back to Iveanne. “Torture is so unreliable. You can never trust the information you get. Once a person reaches a certain level of pain, they’ll say anything to make it stop. When I was still a trainee, of a sort, I once watched a guy the size of my friend here beg his interrogator for the right words to say while he bawled like a baby. Torture never gets you anywhere.”

  “Then…then, why are you here?”

  “To meet you, and to instill just a hint of fear. Then, we’ll follow you when you go running to your handler. The way you conduct yourself screams you’re not a professional at this, so odds favor whoever you’re working for killing you rather than paying you…no loose ends, you see. That’s the fellow I want to meet, and…well…I’m afraid you’re just bait. Sorry about that.”

  The sound of the Igthon sniffing filled the small apartment, and he said, “Yep…she’s afraid now.”