The Rim Rebels

by Zellmann, William

  The comm screen lit up, and Via was confronting a youngish man in a ridiculously ornate uniform. The man's shoulders, which had been rigid with tension, were relaxing. "What is your emergency? How can we help? Do you require medical advice?"

  "Negative," Via replied, responding to the man's obvious military status. "The K'jinnth crewmen have become seriously ill. We have two human crewmen, myself and an engineer. Neither of us have been affected."

  The man in the screen relaxed even more. "I'm sorry, but it may take some time to locate an xenobiologist, or an expert in nonhuman medicine. I'm sure that you realize that no aid can be rendered that requires approaching your ship, or anyone or anything exiting her."

  Via nodded. "Of course, sir. We require no such help anyway, My Captain's final command before he also succumbed to the illness was to return them to K'jinnth for treatment as soon as possible. All that I will require is the opportunity to recalibrate and maneuver to my jump point."

  Some of the tension returned to the man's shoulders. "I do not have the authority to authorize you to maneuver. I must consult my superiors. How long will you require to recalibrate?"

  Via shrugged. "I began preliminary calculations a few minutes ago, but I'm afraid that I may have to recalculate them. I was afraid to leave the command console to use the astrogation comps for fear that someone would call, see the empty chair, and think we were a derelict. Using the astrogation comps, I would estimate slightly over three standard hours."

  The man looked satisfied. "That will be acceptable. I will consult my superiors and call you back within that time. Turn up the volume on your comm speakers, so that you can hear at the Astrogator's station. I repeat my order. Do not attempt any maneuvering without authorization."

  "Understood," Via replied. "I will await your call. Thank you for your consideration." She flashed a blinding smile. The man smiled a response, and the screen blanked.

  Jirik poked his head around the hatch coaming. "All right so far," he said, "You're doing fine."

  Via's head jerked. "Don't come in here, Captain! That popinjay could call back at any moment!"

  Jirik shook his head. "Don't worry. A uniform like that means a military that's for show, with lots of levels of command, and every one of them will want to get his two minims in. You'll be lucky to hear from him by the time you've recalibrated.

  "Maybe," Via replied soberly, "but it's an unjustified risk to chance it.'

  Jirik grinned. "Damned if you aren't right. All right, you're on your own. Let's go get some coffee, kid, we aren't needed here."

  Jirik did have Via take the precaution of plugging the intercom into the comm circuits, on a hear-only setting, but once that was complete, he and Tor adjourned to the mess deck, where they found Bran waiting.

  Almost three hours later, the comm's signal made all of them jump. Via hurried to the command console. The man on the other end was not the man to whom she'd spoken earlier. This man was much older, the chest of his absurd uniform covered with ornate medals.

  "Plague ship Kelackerith" the man mispronounced, "Respond please!"

  "K'lakriith here. I have completed my recalibration. I request permission to maneuver to my jump point."

  "Hmph!" the man replied pompously, "Not so fast, young lady! In this system we take no chances with plague ships. You will do exactly as you are told, or you will be destroyed. Is that clear?"

  "Of course, sir," Via replied hurriedly, "I meant no offense, sir, I merely assumed that you would prefer us to depart your system as soon as possible."

  Via's reply threw the man off stride. "Er . . . Yes, of course. However," he continued, regaining his composure, "We can take no chances. You say that you have completed your maneuvering calculations to your jump point?" At Via's nod he continued, "Excellent. You will immediately transmit your maneuvering calculations to us, so that we can verify them, and to assure that your calculations do not allow you to approach any planet of this system. Is that clear?"

  "Yes, Sir!" Via replied crisply. "Are you prepared to record?"

  The pompous tone returned. "Of course we are. We have naturally been recording every contact with you. I'm surprised that you didn't assume that we would do so."

  Via shrugged. "Frankly, sir, I hadn't considered it either way. This is the first time I've ever had to use the plague beacon. I pray that it will also be the last! At any rate, I am transmitting now." She reached over and flipped a switch on the console, transmitting her jump point coordinates and maneuvering data.

  The man on the screen glanced aside then said, "The data have been received. Stand by for further orders. Do not attempt maneuvering without permission." The screen blanked.

  Nearly an hour passed before the screen once more flared to show the older man. "We have verified your maneuvering data. You are authorized to maneuver to your jump point. However, you are ordered to hold your acceleration and velocity to one which will permit the picket boat accompanying you to remain on station. If you begin to accelerate away from him, he has been ordered to fire on you."

  "Understood, sir," Via replied. "I will delay acceleration thirty standard seconds, so that you can inform the pilot. Thank you for your assistance and consideration, sir."

  The man nodded condescendingly, a slight smile on his face as the screen blanked.

  Via, unsure about handling the drive controls, inched them gingerly from their stops, stopping as soon as the acceleration monitor began to register. The Lass began to creep toward her jump point, the picket boat matching her movements.

  It was nearly six hours before they reached the jump point and Via set the controls for jump. Hailing her escort, she sincerely thanked the young pilot for his consideration, then activated the jump circuits.

  Chapter 11

  Everyone breathed a huge sigh of relief once they were safely supralight. Discussing the past calibration stop, they agreed that, on the whole, the encounter had gone well. Jirik had been very impressed with Via's cool head and acting ability, and told her so. Bran and Tor agreed enthusiastically.

  "It was nothing special," the woman protested embarrassedly. "Any of you could've done it. The only really dangerous part was right after we emerged. Once they started talking, I was sure we'd be all right."

  "That may be true," Jirik replied, "but you pulled it off beautifully. I really liked the way you handled that pompous ass with all the jewelry.'

  "Yeah," Bran laughed. "Did you see those uniforms? Unbelievable. That system may have a severe shortage of taste, but they sure have an abundance of tackiness!"

  Jirik grimaced. "Parade soldiers!" he replied disgustedly. "I'd bet that that Admiral or whatever the hell he was has never even seen combat, other than on a Trivid."

  Tor looked surprised. "But Captain! He had a whole chest full of medals! You could hardly see the front of his uniform!"

  The others grinned. "Right," Jirik replied, "But I'd bet that they're all the equivalent of Good Conduct medals, or for great accomplishments behind a desk. Look, kid," He continued, "I put in ten years with the Alliance Marines. I can tell you, any military organization that knows that it may have to go into combat has better things to expend its time and appropriations on than fancy uniforms and meaningless medals. The General commanding the Alliance Marines has less than half the number of medals that that popinjay had, but he earned every one of them – and not from behind a desk!"

  "This is all just as fascinating as hell, Skipper," Via interrupted, "But maybe we'd better be evaluating that last stop and planning for the next one instead of critiquing military haberdashery."

  Jirik grinned. "You're right. I'm sorry, but phony heroes like that just piss me off. Okay, what have we learned from the last stop, and how will it affect the rest of the trip?"

  Bran snickered. "We learned that they're not as trigger-happy in this sector as Via feared."

  "Not really," Via replied seriously. "The only thing that I learned was that if they start to talk, they probably won't shoot without warning
; and we already knew that. However," She continued, "We did learn that when a ship emerges with its plague beacon running, any ships in the vicinity scatter immediately. We assumed that, but it's nice to have it confirmed. If there was a pirate there, he ran with the rest of them."

  "Right!" Jirik asserted. "That alone makes this plague beacon gimmick worth while. They spread out like a flock of Trillian flith birds, and they stayed well away the whole time, even after you told your story. They were probably all listening in, but none of them even tried to call you on ship-to-ship.

  Bran shrugged. "That's no surprise. Nobody wants to get involved with a plague ship, even over the comm."

  "Right," Jirik replied, "And another thing. Not even a hidebound Planetary Militia like that one is likely to take a lot of time in routing you through. Judging by appearances and past experience, I would guess that it normally takes weeks and piles of credits to get through to that pompous ass. We were on our way in hours."

  Via was still unenthused. "It did take over ten hours for that recal stop," she complained. "Normally, we'd have been out of there in a bit over three."

  Jirik shrugged. "The price of security. I don't think it's excessive."

  "Me neither!" Tor interjected. "I'd rather spend a couple of extra hours at a recal point than try to outwit a pirate again!"

  Bran had been thinking. "Did anyone notice how many ships left the system between our arrival and departure, and which way they headed?"

  "No," Via admitted, "I had more pressing matters on my mind."

  Jirik grinned. "I assumed that you would, so I left the detectors in 'record' mode. Shall we run the chip?"

  Bran jumped to his feet. "Damned right! If any of them left from a jump point near ours, they may make it easier in the next system, or the one after that."

  Jirik nodded. "Exactly. Spacers are the universe's greatest gossips. I'd bet that word of a K'jinnthian plague ship is spreading all over the sector by now. If the next system, or the next, has advance word of us, it can really be of help to us."

  "Yeah," Via replied sourly, "They'll have their lasers and blasters primed and ready." but she accompanied the others to the bridge to run the chip record of the Lass' sensor readings during the recal stop.

  Some five hours later, they finished. All four stretched and stamped about the bridge, relieving cramped and tensed muscles.

  Jirik summed up the results. "Seven total, two probables, one possible. Not bad."

  "One of those probables was almost a certainty," Tor protested. "His jump point orientation was virtually identical to ours!"

  "True," replied Via, "But we don't know how long a jump he was making. He was probably going to the same system that we are, but that's by no means a certainty."

  "We can hope," Bran commented. "If he arrives before us, he could save us a lot of explaining, and lessen the chances that they'll shoot us out of the sky."

  Via rounded on Bran. "I thought that you didn't believe that they'd shoot without warning. Change your mind?"

  "I don't believe that I ever said that," Bran replied with massive dignity, "I always considered it a possibility, but I felt, and still feel, that the risk was justified. I don't like playing games with plague beacons any better than you do; but I don't know of any alternative that gives us a better chance of survival. Do you?"

  Via simply shrugged.

  Throughout the rest of the jump, they endlessly discussed the first of what they began calling "plague stops", hashing and rehashing every detail of the encounter, hoping for some insight that would help make the remaining two plague stops as smooth and safe as possible

  Jirik was watching one of his favorite swashbuckler holovids one 'evening' in mid-jump when there was a quiet knock on his cabin door. He opened it, and was unsurprised to see Via in the passageway. He had assumed that she would be dropping by for one of their now-habitual chats. This time, though, she seemed to have something on her mind. Jirik snapped off the vid, and ushered his guest into the cabin's only chair before seating himself on his bunk.

  "I hope I'm not bothering you, Captain," she began hesitantly

  Jirik shrugged. "Of course not. I've come to enjoy our talks They make a long jump shorter, and a good deal more pleasant. I'm going to miss them when you sign off." He eyed her shrewdly. "You seem preoccupied. Is there something specific that you'd like to talk about? Is it Tor?"

  Via's nervous smile blossomed into a wide grin. "Tor? Deity no. Lately Tor's been a pussycat. But," she continued, "There is something. Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?"

  Jirik shrugged again. "Not at all. But I reserve the right to not answer it."

  The grin flared again. "Agreed. As you mentioned, we've been meeting in your cabin and talking for some time now. How come you haven't made a move on me?"

  Jirik grinned. "What's the matter? Am I hurting your self esteem?" Her grin grew even wider, and Jirik continued, "To answer your question, two reasons. First, I have a strict rule about pressing my attentions on crewmembers. I refuse to have any crewmember feel pressured because I'm the Captain. Second, I didn't want to start a triangle situation. No love is more intense or passionate than puppy love, and Tor is head over heels. I just didn't want to promote additional conflict with all that we already have on our plates; spooks, pirates, terrorists. I didn't want to add a love triangle."

  Via shook her head, and her slanted, somehow feline eyes narrowed. "It won't wash, Skipper. Captains have relationships with crewmembers of the same or opposite sex all the time. Unless it gets out of hand, it doesn't have to affect crew discipline. As for Tor, since you talked to him, I've been doing my best to let him down gently. I think he's into the 'Mooning Over The Lost Love' phase now. I don't think it'd make any difference if we had a relationship. Or are you looking for a way out?"

  Jirik flushed. "I guess I'm old-fashioned," he growled. "Maybe it's my military background. I'm not looking for a way out. I think that you're the most desirable woman that it has been my good fortune to meet in a very long time. And, don't dismiss Tor so easily. He still follows you around like a pet. If you think he's over it, you're sadly mistaken!"

  Via shrugged. "Perhaps." She rose gracefully to her feet. "Well, I'm sorry I bothered you, Captain." The gleaming grin had been replaced by a smile that was obviously forced. She started toward the cabin door.

  "Wait, Dammit!" Jirik cried, leaping to his feet. "Hell, I'm no good at this kind of stuff!" He flushed and shifted uncomfortably. "Damn it, I've had female crewmen before, but I've never gotten involved with them." His flush deepened "And now, I find myself attracted to the most exciting woman I've ever met, and I go and make her feel that I'm rejecting her! I'm sorry, Via," he continued, "I'm an emotional klutz. Now you know why I've never signed a cohabitation contract." He slumped back onto the bunk.

  Via's spectacular smile was back in full force. "Oh, you're not so bad; just a bit stuffy. But at least you treat me like a woman, and not some cute little doll or toy." She sat back down. "Now," she said in a businesslike tone, "Let's stop talking about why we shouldn't, and start talking about how we can do it without breaking Tor's heart. That is," she continued with a meaningful glance, "unless you can think of something more entertaining to pass the time!"

  Jirik blushed scarlet as she rose from the chair and moved next to him on the bunk, but he eagerly reached to enfold her in his arms. Their kiss was long and passionate.

  "Finally!" Via murmured. "For a while there, I thought I was going to have to rape you!"

  "Not likely!" He muttered, his hands cupping her small breasts. She stepped back and quickly peeled off her tunic, then stepped out of her trousers. She was exotic perfection in miniature, and the light constantly shifting on her golden fur only enhanced her beauty. The red hair of her head did, in fact, grow about halfway down her back, but Jirik noted that all of it below her neck had been trimmed closely. He found that she fit very nicely on his lap, and her soft roundness was perfect for cuddling.

  Severa
l hours later, she stirred and rose gently from Jirik's side. Naked, she padded into the tiny 'fresher. When she returned and began gathering her scattered clothing, Jirik awoke. Lying quietly, he watched her lithe body admiringly as she moved about the cabin, her rounded hips and smallish breasts swaying with her movements. Her beautiful fur reflected the cabin's lighting into a constantly-shifting shimmer. When she began to don the clothing, however, he sat up abruptly.

  "I wish that you didn't have to cover that gorgeous body," he commented with an exaggerated leer.

  She flashed that incredible grin. "Why, thank you, kind sir," she replied in a kittenish tone. She assumed a pin-up pose. "Don't tell me you're still horny?" she asked throatily, "Maybe you're just a dirty old man after all!"

  "Deity, the woman's insatiable!" Jirik commented in a wondering tone. "No," he continued, "You can get dressed; but only if you'll promise to let me take some vids of you later. You're the most spectacular and exotic woman that I've ever seen."

  White teeth flashed again, but Via continued dressing. Jirik also got dressed, and the two sat down to seriously discuss their new relationship's effect on the rest of the crew.

  The next "day," Jirik sought out Bran. He related the events of the night before, and told Bran that Via would be moving into his cabin. He flushed scarlet throughout the account, his words awkward and stumbling.

  "Hell, Captain," Bran enthused as Jirik stumbled to silence, "I think it's wonderful! She's a remarkable woman. Congratulations!" A wide grin split his florid face.

  Jirik studied Bran's face, as though looking for resentment or sarcasm. "Uh, well, thanks, Bran. I can't imagine what a woman like her sees in a hairy old spacer like me, but I'm not about to argue with it. Uh . . . What I wanted to talk to you about is Tor. Do you have any suggestions on how to handle him?"

  Bran sobered. "I'm afraid that he's going to be a problem, Captain. How much of a problem, I just don't know. He's talked to me about his crush several times. You must understand; you're his hero; he idolizes you. But Via is the woman of his dreams. Intellectually, he realizes that his love has no future. Emotionally, though, it's going to be very hard for him to deal with. Let me try to handle it first. If you try to talk to him, I'm afraid that it may just make matters worse."