“Achilles, can you keep us hidden if we drop out of warp at a distance?” Alistair asked.
“With 90% certainty, Mr. Crowe. They will detect our warp signature, but will not be able to detect the ship immediately. I would estimate we have five minutes to decide on our course of action before having to depart.”
“Lili?” Alistair looked at her hopefully.
“Let's do it,” she said. “Everyone strap in.”
Chapter 63
The Ubik shut down all non-essential systems before exiting their warp field. They were close enough to tap into the chatter between the three vessels, but far enough to avoid detection without an extremely lucky sensor ping.
The Republic frigate, designated the URS – Terra's Pride, had a weapon's lock on both the freighter and the destroyer, a bold move on its captain's part. Achilles was able to compile a transcription of the communications between the three ships, but could not detect anything from The Vide, nor could he determine the source of the specific messages. The crew would have to guess who was saying what.
“... they were traveling outside of the standard interstellar lanes. We're authorized to conduct search and seizure operations in this sector.”
“You're authorized to conduct lawful search and seizure operations, captain. The lanes are only recommended routes.”
“If you're going to impede our investigation into illicit trafficking and anti terror operations, we will have no choice but to employ force and flag your ship traitors to the Republic.”
“We've scanned their ship thoroughly and found no illicit substances, captain. We also don't see any biometric signatures marking known terrorists. Your search and seizure operations lack any lawful substance. Attention Journey Into the Unknown, you have our permission to continue on your route unimpeded. Safe travels, friends.”
Just as the Journey began to accelerate, the Pride fired its medium railguns at her thrusters, crippling the ship and causing an immediate power cascade.
“Take us in,” Alistair said. “We can't watch any longer.”
Before The Ubik could even fire up its thrusters, a pillar of light erupted from the massive Vide which completely obliterated the URS – Terra's Pride.
“What the hell was that?!” Rachel shouted.
“An energy lance. Looks like the L'appel du Vide just picked a side,” Lili said.
“Achilles, bring us in to assist the Journey. I don't care if that destroyer sees us, we're just a harmless freighter coming in to answer a distress call.”
Alistair was taking a huge risk by trusting his gut that The Vide wouldn't attack. But from what they'd seen, the captain of the command destroyer was extremely calm and collected.
A message appeared on the PCDs of every crew member, as well as the main screen on the bridge. It read: 'Greetings brothers and sisters. A good day to die, no?'
Everyone aboard The Ubik froze in terror except Alistair and Garcia. Were they moments from being burned from existence like the Pride only moments before?
“It's a code,” Garcia said. “They know we're in an RSOC ship and are waiting for the confirmation code.”
“Send them a hail,” Alistair said. Achilles opened a channel and the view screen simply changed from the ominous text to a signal reading 'Visual Link Blocked – Audio Enabled.'
Even if he wanted a visual link, the destroyer wouldn't allow it. RSOC were notoriously stingy with any personal information whatsoever.
“My name is Alistair Crowe and I am commander of The Ubik. We mean no harm and are only moving in to assist the survivors of the Journey.”
A moment of silence followed, before a heavily modulated voice said “Don't lie, son. We were happy to let you assist the wounded, but evoking the names of the dead is a good way to join them.”
Although the voice was completely unrecognizable, the cadence with which it was spoken was not. Alistair smiled and commanded Achilles to enable their visual feed.
“I knew I had a good feeling about your ship,” Alistair said. The rest of the crew sat completely confused.
“Enable video feed,” the modulated voice said. “And disable this god damn modulation. And deploy life boats to help the Journey. And prepare to receive guests from 'The Ubik'.
“Uhh, Alistair?” Lili said with trepidation.
The view screen suddenly came to life with the image of an older man, almost completely bald with a very noticeable cybernetic eye. A faint ring of white hair clung desperately to the sides of his head.
“Alistair Crowe, my old friend,” the man said. “We have a lot to talk about, you son of a bitch. God damn it's good to see you.” His face was a mess of burn scars that continued down his neck. They looked to go on further, but his high collared leather duster ornately ordained with medals concealed them.
“We'll assist The Journey, you and your people need to come aboard so we can talk.”
The video feed cut out, and the crew of The Ubik stared at Alistiar.
“You never told me you had friends,” Mel joked. She was frequently the most calm member of the crew while facing imminent death.
“You never asked. I'll explain it on the way over. Achilles, take us in to dock via the port hatch.”
Chapter 64
As the crew headed over to The Vide, Alistair explained his history with the man. He referred to him as 'The Marshal', knowing that aboard RSOC command ships, colloquially known as 'black ships', identities of command crew and assault units were kept strictly confidential. The primary purpose of these ships was to investigate corruption among the elite of the Republic and total anonymity helped protect the lives of both the agents on board as well as their families.
The Marshal, however, was a man with no family and few friends – something he and Alistair had in common. Alistair was The Marshal's protege when he first joined and they eventually became partners. They had worked together for the entirety of Alistair's career as a marshal before he was detained and brought onto The Ubik for sympathizing with his 'terrorist' family members.
“He's tough as nails and mean as can be,” Alistair said with a tint to his voice nobody but Mel had ever heard. He was genuinely happy. “You'll all love him.”
The entire crew departed The Ubik at Alistair's behest and were greeted by a squad of marine special forces.
The squad leader, a man who rivaled Alistair in size, offered a gruff salute before saying “Welcome aboard, sir. The Commander is eager to see you. Right this way, please.”
What kind of a man sends a marine death squad as a welcoming committee, Lili thought. The others were having similar thoughts, with Garcia as the exception. He'd known the types that black ships usually recruited – some of his closest friends were mysteriously 're-deployed' over the years. He knew that any one of these men would fight tooth and claw for a Republic civvie.
The squad leader led them through a dizzying maze of corridors, apparently having been on this ship for many years.
“The Commander tells me you and him used to be friends, which makes you good in my book. I've served under him for five years now and I honestly didn't think he had the capacity to make friends.”
Mel laughed. “That's exactly what I said about this one,” she said as she punched Alistair's arm.
“The rest of you have predefined clear routes while aboard our humble little home. We can supply you with PCDs or forward the data to your own, either way. Stick within the blue zones and you're good. Go outside of them and you get to learn why we're called black ships.” The squad leader let out a slight chuckle.
“So did you inherit his sense of humor, or were you an asshole before you got stuck with The Marshal?” Alistair mused.
“Hah. It's a prerequisite to the job, sir. Never heard him called The Marshal, though. Glad you're aware of our strict policies.”
“Some things never change,” Alistair replied. He knew this game all too well. He never thought his old mentor would transfer out of the marshals service and into Republic
intel, though.
“The Commander is in here,” the squad leader said. Alistair looked down at the man's name tag on his vest, only to find it conspicuously missing.
“Name's Reaper, if you need me. Ask anyone and they'll send me in your direction. I'd normally not play tour guide, but a friend of The Commander is a special treat,” he said as if reading Alistair's mind.
“Never met an RSOC goon that didn't have a stupid name. Usually Rose Pedal or Baby Legs.”
“Hah. I've heard worse. Some of us get special treatment, though. You know how it is.”
Alistair did know how. Some of his dicier fugitive runs were accompanied by RSOC kill teams redeployed for fugitive apprehension duty. Only the meanest of the mean got a name that wasn't emasculating. The man before him wasn't just a seasoned killer, he was an unflinching professional under the worst circumstances. You could fling him into a star and he'd chew his way out.
Alistair stuck out his hand. “It's a pleasure, Reaper. Looking forward to comparing our ops.”
“Likewise, but I wouldn't want to embarrass anyone.”
He stepped to the side and opened the door to the officer's lounge, where The Marshal was sitting. He'd already set two bottles of bourbon and a box of cigars on the table, with accompanying glasses, cutters, and lighters.
As Alistair entered, Mel close in tow, The Marshal stood up and saluted, then came over to greet him in person. Alistair stuck his hand out to shake, but The Marshal batted it away and gave him a brief hug.
“I hope nobody else saw that,” he said.
“Don't worry, I won't tell,” Mel replied.
“Marshal, it's good to see you. Wish it were under better circumstances though. And before she beats me to the punch, this tag along is Melanie. Don't piss her off, she's a handful.”
“Melanie, it's a pleasure to meet you,” The Marshal said as they shook hands. He looked to Alistair, “so I assume you're not blind to what's going on 'round the galaxy?”
“No. We've been trying to help people where we can, but the navy gets more brazen every day. We were heading to the Kalinar system to follow up with some bio weapons caches we found.”
“It's under quarantine. Not even the navy will go there. What were you hoping to do?”
“Whatever we could, sir.”
“Don't start with that sir bullshit,” The Marshal said, laughing. He made sure the rest of the crew were comfortable. “Alistair, you going to introduce me to the rest of your compatriots? If they're shacked up with you, I know they've got some interesting stories.”
“We don't have a lot of time, Marshal,” Alistair interrupted. “Pleasantries will have to come later, unless you want to do it now aboard The Ubik. We need to get to Kalinar.”
The Marshal nodded and reached for his PCD.
“Nav, this is The Comm. Set a course for the Kalinar system once we've finished rescue operations for the Journey. If they're not in any shape to fly, bring them in and we'll take them with us.”
“Aye aye, Commander.”
“There. Now we can talk and travel.”
Alistair took a seat opposite The Marshal at one of the larger round tables, let The Marshal fill his glass, and grabbed a cigar.
The Marshal looked Alistair in the eye and asked, “So how about we start with; where the fuck did you go?”
Chapter 65
Alistair filled The Marshal in with his abduction, interrogation, and subsequent torture. He then explained how he commandeered The Ubik and proceeded to spend an indeterminate amount of time talking with Achilles and tinkering with the ship while trying to cling to sanity. He told him about his random attacks on pirate ships, station gangs, and freeing the occasional slave.
When he got to the part about Rachel harpooning the corrupt dock worker, The Marshal laughed.
“That's what I meant. Anybody stuck in your company has some balls, at least.”
Rachel looked at him with curiosity from a few feet away where she and Stewart were talking with another officer from The Vide.
“Excuse me – lady balls,” The Marshal said with a nod in Rachel's direction.
Alistair laughed and Rachel rolled her eyes. She'd gotten used to Alistair's rather dry sense of humor but now there were two of them.
He went on to explain finding the marooned marines aboard the Kris, then Cairenn finagling her way aboard. Eventually he got to Lili's ship, the now destroyed Omarra Kahn, and his face sunk.
“Still trying to fix everything and save everyone, eh?” The Marshal asked.
“'Til the day I die,” Alistair replied.
“At least there's one constant in the galaxy that we can rely on. Cheers, old friend – I'm glad you didn't go AWOL and off yourself in a drug den somewhere. The way shit's looking, people like you are in short supply.”
Alistair raised his glass and the two men finished their drinks before promptly refilling.
“So what's the deal with Melanie?” The Marshal asked.
“She's one of a kind. I've been teaching her weapon control, helping her with her aiming, that kind of thing.”
“You know that's not what I meant. But if you're the one training her, who's going to undue all the mistakes she's learned?”
“You just read me like a book, don't you?” Alistair laughed. “I told you she was an orphan in Rachel's shelter. Things were pretty rough for her before Rachel took her in – nobody else wanted to help.”
“Ah, I see. A few wounded animals keeping close. Sorry, I didn't mean to pry.”
“It's fine. She's tough as can be, definitely puts you to shame. If she hadn't been completely screwed over after falling through the cracks of social services and station administration, she'd be on the fast track to take your job.” Alistair and The Marshal had a history of bullshitting endlessly.
“Oh, I don't doubt that. She'd have to be tough to put up with you.”
They both laughed, a common theme of the meeting, and then slowly defaulted to pondering their current predicament.
“So you consider yourselves to be traitors now?” Alistair asked, finally breaking the minutes long silence. It felt like an eternity.
“Little blunt, even for you. But no. We're loyal soldiers of the Republic and her citizens. Anybody out there preying on civvies are the traitors. It'd take the entire navy to convince me otherwise. That's why I was so happy to see you. I know where you used to stand on all of this bullshit and I wanted to see if you'd changed. I'm glad you haven't.”
“It'd take more than months of torture and irreparable sanity loss to change a stubborn old man like him,” Mel said as she came and sat beside Alistair. She nudged him with her shoulder and smiled.
“I need to hit the head, be back,” Alistair said as he stood and headed for the bathroom.
“He speaks really highly of you, Melanie,” The Marshal said. “Even said you'd end up taking my job if left to your own devices. Getting praise out of Alistair is like trying to puke through a straw – I hope you realize that.”
She blushed a bit, not sure what to say.
“We're en route to the Kalinar system, with your ship and the Journey in tow. If you want a bit of training in any of our bays, just say the word. Alistair hasn't changed a bit since I last saw him and his intuition was always spot on. If he trusts you, I trust you,” The Marshal said with a smile.
“Thank you, sir. I'd love it. We have to use the cargo bay on The Ubik for target practice, but a simulator would be a lot of fun.”
“I'll make sure to get one of the marines to set you up. Alistair is welcome to join, of course. I always had a feeling his skills were more from luck than actual skill though,” he said, chuckling. “You know, if the Republic wasn't collapsing in on itself at a record pace, this meeting would definitely take on a different tone,” The Marshal admitted. He was feeling the bourbon now and his tone went from cheerful to mourning.
“It's been in a bad way for a long time, sir,” Mel said. “When my parents were .. taken... five yea
rs ago, it didn't feel all that much different than it does today. There was no Republic investigation. The local governor's office didn't care and neither did the senators. It was just business as usual to them.”
The Marshal set his glass down and sighed, slowly shaking his head.
“I left the marshal's service to try and make a bigger impact. I'd seen some bad things when Alistair and I were partners, but when he vanished I never once considered it was because the Republic abducted him.”
Alistair came back from the restroom, happy to see Mel and The Marshal getting along.
“I half expected her to put you in your place, old man.”
“I've dealt with you this long, haven't I? I see where you get your shitty sense of humor, though.”
The three of them laughed. The Marshal topped off his glass, filled Alistair's, and put a bit in one of the glasses for Mel. He slid it to her and she hesitantly grabbed it.
“To all those we couldn't help,” he said as he stood. He wasn't drunk – not by a long shot. But his higher blood alcohol level had helped guide him to a more powerful place emotionally.
“To the victims of an ever more greedy elite, the victims of corruption – every life lost that put our great Republic over the edge. And to Melanie's parents,” he said with a solemn tone.
“Cheers,” the combined crews of The Ubik and The Vide said in tandem.
Melanie downed the fiery liquid and gagged.
“The one thing you need to understand on this ship, Mel,” The Marshal said after sitting back down, “is that everything we do is designed to make you more resilient. Some good ol' fashioned fire water is a great first start.”
She gave him a thumbs up while nodding, afraid to open her mouth or move to rapidly.
“Still eager to spend some time training with these fine men and women?” Alistair asked.
Finally, Mel took a deep breath after the burning sensation in her throat died down.
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