by M. D. Cooper
“Yes, sir.”
With that they swung back into the corridor and around the bend. Dock E3 was directly ahead, its bay doors watched by two guards who were TSF Regulars. Grenwald had briefed them via the Link and they saluted Tanis and Joseph as they stepped onto the dock.
Dock E3 was a multilevel affair with ships docking at the highest level and cargo moving via down-ramps to the lower storage and distribution areas. Looking up through the twisting array of chutes and gravity-powered elevators, Tanis saw four ships in interior berths.
Her overlay lit up with the people on the dock, highlighting the positions of the four Marines who were undercover as cargo handlers, working the shipments on the other vessels. Red halos surrounded the men from the suspect ship and their cargo glowed yellow.
“And you are certainly going to be cited with failure to declare deviation of flight plan as you were half a percentage off on each of your two final trajectory alterations. MOS will be levying a fine against you for that.”
“Look, we just want to deliver our cargo and get off this tin can,” said the man who appeared to be in charge. “We’ve got a schedule to keep and this delay is going to cost us more money than your damn fines.”
The cargo inspector’s AI must have notified him of their approach; he turned and gave Tanis an exasperated look. “I’m sorry to have to call you down here, Major, but as per your regulations you are to be brought in on any event of this nature.”
“Indeed I am.” Tanis nodded. “So what have these fine men brought aboard your station?”
“Nothing that’s any big deal,” the pseudo-captain commented.
“They’ve brought a C9 type lubricant onto the ship.”
Joseph asked.
“What receiver ordered this?” Tanis asked.
“None of yours,” the inspector said. “Manifest has it destined for AR Spec, a systems assembler on the station that handles final assembly of nav controller boards for the Intrepid. Except this isn’t what they ordered.” Tanis already knew all of this, but it was best to let the little drama play out.
“So someone shipped the wrong cargo?”
“No, the seal on the container has been tampered with. This cargo was replaced, that’s why I called you down.”
Tanis shifted her hard stare to the merc in charge. His ID said he was Captain Sundy, but she had conflicting data. Some records did show that the man before her was Captain Sundy, but older ones had the bio of a completely different person, the hallmark of either shoddy work or a rush job generating a fake ID.
“I expect you have full serial records on this cargo?” she asked. “I’ll want to know everything about it, from the moment it was conceived of.”
“Of course,” the captain smiled. “If you’ll step into our hold I can bring the data up.”
Grenwald gave the signal over the Link and two of the Marines from one/two boarded a crawler headed down the length of the dock. It was on a route that would take it very close to Tanis and her team; she hoped the mercs didn’t pick up on the timing.
“I don’t see why that’s necessary. Why don’t you step onto your ship and load the information onto a plas? That way I can have it handy for my report.”
“I would, ma’am, but our plas interface is down right now. I can let you Link to the ship to get the information, but that’s it.”
“Very well.” Tanis shrugged. She motioned with her head for Joseph and one/one to follow.
Joseph said privately to Tanis.
Tanis sent an image of her avatar sticking its tongue out at Joseph, as they stepped over the threshold into the cargo bay of the small freighter. Even as she did so, her eyes darted up to catch the furtive motion of more than one man on an upper catwalk that circled the compartment.
She sent commands over the combat net to Argenaut and Lauder to stand on the far side of the hold and cover the catwalk. Tannon and Peters took up positions on either side of the hold’s airlock.
The merc posing as Captain Sundy led Tanis and Joseph to a hard terminal and brought up the cargo’s records. She turned to the console and let it appear as though she was reading it in detail. What she was really doing was positioning her left hand—which the merc couldn’t see—under her jacket and on her pulse pistol.
Angela had deployed remote nano which provided multiple views of the hold to the combat net; enabling Tanis to watch the merc captain from behind. He paused for a moment, thinking her distracted by the readout, and then slid a hand between two crates.
“I wouldn’t do that, Captain Sundy.” Tanis didn’t turn as she addressed the captain.
“Do what?”
“Don’t pull that weapon out from there. I’ve got mine trained on you already. Your ship is surrounded and we’re going to have to take you into custody.”
The man gave an ugly laugh. “You’re in error, unfortunately. We’ve got people on the inside. Your little TSF force won’t be able to help you.”
“And yours won’t be able to help you.” Tanis fired. The shot hit him square in the chest. It knocked him back, but wasn’t lethal. He’d be doing some talking later; lots of talking.
Lauder let out a cry as she raised her rifle and peppered the catwalk with pulse blasts. Argenaut was moments behind her, his laser out, intensity set low—just enough to blister the skin if it made contact. Behind them Peters and Tannon were firing shots back onto the dock as the mercs stationside attempted to rush them. The MOS inspector went down under a hail of projectile fire from the mercs.
The two members of one/two arrived on the crawler and the mercs ended up caught in a heavy crossfire. Moments later they were down. However, Angela’s nano was still picking up four heat signatures on the catwalk inside the hold. Her detail, assisted by Joseph, focused all their attention on that problem.
As she scanned the combat net for the best view of the catwalk, several explosions rocked the dock outside.
Williams filled her in.
escort.
“Seal it!” Tanis yelled. “Commander, take Peters and Tannon and secure the bridge, we’ll finish off our friends above.”
“Like hell you will!” a voice called down.
Using hand signals, Tanis directed the Marines to lay down suppressive fire. That done, she instructed Angela to lock down the airlock and attempt to get in contact with the ship’s AI.
Tanis looked for the weapon the merc captain had been going for. It was a high-powered pulse rifle. Just what the doctor ordered. She took stock of the situation from everyone’s feeds; then rolled out from behind her protective cargo and placed three well-aimed shots into the torso of a merc as he rose up from behind his cover to take a shot. Three left on the catwalk.
Angela had gotten the ship’s layout and fed it to the combat net. Joseph sent a thanks and informed Tanis that he was almost at the bridge. No resistance encountered thus far.
Jensen got off a shot that nailed a merc in the head and he toppled over the railing to the deck below. Two enemies left.
Re-examining the situation, Tanis climbed onto a crate and pulled herself up some webbing to get a new vantage point. Sure enough, just as a merc leaned over to get his gun around his cover, he came right into view. Two shots to the torso and he slumped over.
“Last man,” she called out. “Care to surrender the easy way, or get beaten into submission?”
A scuffling sound echoed in the hold as a gun was tossed over the railing and the man stood up.
“Good choice, man,” Lauder grinned. “With all of us gunning for you, you’d’ve been pulverized. And wouldn’t that just mess up your pretty merc face?”
“Secure him and then dose them all. Make sure they are out for hours.”
“Jensen, Lang. Stay down here and keep an eye on that airlock. Lauder and Argenaut, layout is on the combat net and it shows a secondary airlock. Angela has it locked down, but go make sure someone doesn’t poke a hole in it.”
“Sir!” came the chorus of responses.
Tanis followed the route Joseph’s team had taken up to the bridge and queried Angela along the way.
Before Angela even responded, Tanis could feel her AI’s anger.
Tanis relayed the news across the combat net.
Joseph was at the pilot’s console and was firing up the ship’s reactor. Normally, when the reactor had been cold for some time, the process was carefully executed over several hours, but this wasn’t a several-hours sort of situation and he was skipping a number—or all—of the safety procedures.
"Conversation was getting redundant," Tanis muttered and killed the connection; she instructed Grenwald to keep MOS abreast of issues from his position.
Lauder reported in.
“I’ve released our clamps, station is still clamped on, but frankly I don’t care. Ready to apply magnetic debarkation in 3, 2, 1. Magnetic rails active.”
A violent shudder ran through the small ship as it strained to break free from the station’s grapple, and an unpleasant tearing sound echoed through the hull.
“That was one nasty noise,” Peters said. “But I don’t think it was the sound of us getting free.”
Joseph’s expression was sour as he attempted to determine why the ship was still moored. “Don’t you trust my driving?”
“It’s not your driving; it’s how well this tub can hold up to it.”
“I resent that,” a clear voice rang out in the bridge.
“Sorry, Tom.” Peters apologized. “Situational stress.”
“I understand,” Tom replied. “I’ve been having a rough few days myself. Thanks to Angela, I’m almost feeling like myself again.”
“Good to hear it. You’re most familiar with this ship, what do you recommend we do to break free from dock?” Tanis asked.
“Well, my mag rails probably aren’t strong enough. You’ll have to use thrusters and a reverse magnetic pulse on the station’s mag clamps.”
“Sounds like a plan; co-ord it with Joseph,” Tanis replied.
A pulse thrummed through the ship and with a final screech and a lurch, the ship pulled free.
The inner lock was just an ES shield which was not designed to stop objects as large and determined as a ship under thrust. The shield snapped off momentarily, creating quite the storm on the dock behind them. Sensors showed that in the few m
oments the docks didn’t lose enough atmosphere to kill anyone.
“Move us away from the MOS. Grenwald has put the call into your fighter patrols, Commander. They’re scrambling Blue Wing to escort us to the Intrepid’s VIP dock.”
“Fitting, I’d say.” Joseph grinned. Something on his board caught his eye. “Damn, two of their ships are breaking free as well. We’re gonna have a race on our hands.”
“Either that, or a fight,” Tanis said.
“Tom, do you have any types of weapons or shielding?” Joseph asked.
“This class of ship is not equipped with any weapons, and nothing more than a frontal velocity shield.”
“You owe us, Tom; tell me about the real loadout.”
A sigh came over the audible speakers and the shipnet. “Very well, we have two three-inch lasers and a very light refractive shield.”
“Better than a kick in the head,” Tanis muttered. “Peters, have Tom hook you up with a console for weapons; Tannon, you’re on ship’s systems and damage control.”
Tanis got two yes ma’ams and the men went to their tasks. She tapped into ship’s scan and brought it up on the small holo. Their ship was pulling away from MOS on thrusters, slowly angling around the shipyard to the outer side where the Intrepid was docked.
“Brace!” Peters called out as a projectile impacted their ship. Reports flashed on everyone’s overlays showing the damage to the lower holds. External cameras displayed cargo spilling out into space.
“That wasn’t very nice,” Peters muttered as he worked his interface. “I’ve got a bead on the ship that fired that. May I take the shot?”
“Fire at will, Corporal,” Tanis said. “We just need to keep these guys at bay for two more minutes. All fighters are deploying around the Intrepid so the launching tubes are a bit stacked. Our escort should be here any moment, though.”