The Empire's Corps: Book 05 - The Outcast

by Christopher Nuttall

  “Don’t worry about it,” Brad added. “You should have seen my mistakes when I was an apprentice. My uncle used to threaten to throw me out of the airlock every second day.”

  Sameena gave him a surprised look. Abdul would never have been so sensitive to her feelings, let alone tried to cheer her up.

  Brad stood up as Ethne came through the hatch. “They’re starting to load up the pallets now,” she said. “Steve and James will handle it, while your father talks to the destroyer skipper.”

  “Seems a bit odd,” Brad commented. “Why would they detail a destroyer to escort little old us?”

  Sameena considered it. The destroyer was the workhorse of the Imperial Navy – few pirates, according to the files, would willingly take on a warship – but it had very limited cargo space. Much of its hull was composed of drives, weapons and control systems, with the crew squeezed into the remaining space. The images she’d seen on the datanet had suggested that three or four crewmen were crammed into cabins no bigger than her own. She could never have endured such an existence.

  “They’re short on transports,” she muttered. “And they must need their supplies.”

  “Indeed,” Ethne agreed. “Sameena, stay here until the loading is completed. Once we separate from the station you can go back to your cabin. For the moment, I suggest you review the files from your tutor. You have a lot of work ahead of you.”

  Sameena watched her go, puzzled.

  “There’s a bunch of horny crewmen on the ship right now,” Brad said, once the hatch was closed. “She doesn't want you seen.”

  He smiled at Sameena’s expression, then passed her a terminal. “There’s never anything to do while docked,” he added. “You may as well review the files.”

  Sameena frowned, remembering everything she’d been told about off-worlders on Jannah. “If they saw me ... would anything happen?”

  “I doubt it,” Brad admitted. “They’ll be working hard and there will be officers supervising ... but it’s best not to take chances. Some of the crewmen here have been on duty for years.”

  “Oh,” Sameena said. She clicked on the terminal, accessed the file and read the first page. It was a blunt assessment of her first set of exams, concluding with a note that while she showed intelligence and promise, she was critically short of background knowledge that would be required for further qualifications. “This isn't good.”

  Brad took the terminal and read it, quickly. “It doesn't say you’re stupid,” he pointed out, bluntly. “Background knowledge merely requires research and some careful thought. I think you’re better off than some others.”

  He smiled as he passed the terminal back to her. “I can help with some research,” he said, “but mum would go ballistic if she caught me giving you more than basic help. Sorry.”

  Sameena smiled and read through the next set of pages. They outlined a study schedule, followed by a series of assignments that she would be expected to have completed by the time she returned to Madagascar. Two of them she thought she could answer immediately, but the remainder – fifteen in all – were completely beyond her. She felt her heart start to sink as she realised she would have to spend months studying, just to pass the exams.

  “And you will have plenty more work to do on the ship,” Brad pointed out, dryly. “You might find it more useful than exams and studies.”

  Sameena rolled her eyes. Steve had said the same, but he’d also admitted that exams could make it easier to get onboard a new ship. Shaking her head, she started working her way through the first study plan, reading the background notes the tutor had provided for her. Some of the titbits on history were actually quite interesting ...

  “That’s often more important than you might expect,” Brad said. “Worlds that joined the Empire willingly are often more likely to follow Imperial Law than those that were annexed by force. Quite a few worlds are fanatical loyalists because the Empire saved them from certain disaster. If the Imperial Navy asked them a favour, you can bet your ... ah, rear that they would comply.”

  “I see,” Sameena said.

  “And then there’s places like Han, where understanding history will tell you that it’s a very good idea to stay away,” Brad added. “Dad always downloads history modules when we move to a new sector, just so he can research our destinations. He’ll be ready to bore us to death about Sungai Buloh tonight.”

  He shrugged. “Fortunately, you will have plenty of time to prepare for the practical exams,” he warned. “Crashing a starship then will certainly get you booted out of the examination chamber.”

  It was nearly four hours before the hatches were closed and Captain Hamilton came back onto the bridge. “They’re clearing us for immediate departure,” he said. “The Pinafore will be escorting us to our destination.”

  Sameena smiled as Brad powered up the engines, ran through a brief checklist – he’d told her that the Imperial Navy were sticklers for following procedure, even though half of the steps could be omitted without risking anything – and then disengaged from the station. She glanced down at the near-space display as the freighter wallowed free and frowned, her eyes narrowing as she studied the display. Four of the starships near the station were radiating nothing, but their IFF beacons. They weren't powered up at all.

  “Interesting,” Brad said, as he took them past the weapons platform marking the outskirts of space claimed by the Imperial Navy. “The only time they’re supposed to be powered down completely is when they’re in a shipyard, being repaired. Anything could happen here and it would take hours to power up the ships to respond.”

  “If they can be powered up,” Hamilton said, softly. “If ...”

  He cleared his throat. “It will take us three hours to reach the Phase Limit,” he added. “Perhaps, Sameena, you would care to work on your berries? Richard and Regina will assist you.”

  Sameena nodded and slipped through the hatch, walking down to what she was starting to think of as her hydroponics lab. It had been expanded since they’d purchased more supplies from Madagascar, allowing Steve to set up a dozen additional vats. The berries were growing faster than she’d expected. Some of the second batch were already ripe for harvesting.

  “They taste good,” Regina called, as she entered. “We had one each.”

  “Oh,” Sameena said. They’d bought a press, bottles and a handful of other supplies at Madagascar, as well as some instructions on how to turn the liquid into mead. “I wouldn't eat any more or some people will be very annoyed.”

  “We know that,” Richard said. It was strange to realise that he was a mere eleven months older than his sister. But then, both of them acted older than they really were. “We’re not stupid, you know.”

  “I know,” Sameena said, remembering what she’d said to Brad. “You’re not even remotely stupid.”

  She felt a flash of envy. The kids had grown up in an incredibly dangerous environment. They’d learned to wear shipsuits and check air pressure before they’d been able to walk. In some ways, they were far more mature that kids born on Jannah – and far more used to thinking for themselves. There were times when they made her feel slow and stupid beside them, even though she was five years older than Richard.

  “Pluck off the ripe berries, then press half of them into liquid,” Regina recited. She started to work, her brother right beside her. “The other half are to be put in the stasis pod until we can rig up a new set of vats.”

  Sameena watched as the small pile of berries grew larger, then started to work on the press. Steve had made her practice with the device before she actually tried to use it properly; it was harder than it seemed to crush the berries so that they released their juices. A sweet smell arose in the compartment as the liquid pooled under the press, then drained into the container.

  “Smells nice,” Regina commented. “How much do you think this is worth?”

  “Lots,” Sameena said, shortly. “We’ll have to wait and see.”

  She’d done a littl
e research into Firewater Mead when she had been on Madagascar, but there hadn’t been much information on the datanet. Distribution was handled by a cartel – which she had already known – and they were incredibly close-mouthed about where the mead actually came from, originally. If Sameena hadn't already known about Jannah, she would have suspected that the mead came from the other side of the Empire. Someone had worked hard to obscure the source.

  Odd, she thought, as she looked over at the bubbling vats. Why didn't the cartel try growing the berries for themselves?

  It puzzled her. They had certainly had no trouble in growing the berries, let alone producing the mead. An interstellar cartel with more money in its pocket change account than the entire planet of Jannah possessed should have had no trouble doing the same. Could it be that the government on Jannah actually ran the cartel? It was bizarre, but she had to admit that it was possible. She couldn't think of any other explanation.

  She added the handful of other ingredients, as dictated by Uncle Muhammad, and then stored the liquid in the refrigerator. It should be ready to drink in a month, according to the information she’d been given. And then they would have to find a way to distribute it.

  “That won’t be a problem,” Ethne had assured her, when she’d asked. “You’d be astonished how many items can be found on Madagascar with the serial numbers filed off. The buyer might want to run a check first – people have been conned with bottles of coloured water before – but after that ... hell, we could just copy the bottles the cartel makes and let them assume that we bought it in another sector.”

  “I think that’s it for the day,” she said, finally. The remainder of the berries would be placed in the vats, once they were cleaned and replenished, where they could start producing the next generation of fruit. “Thank you for your help.”

  “Oh, it was no trouble,” Richard said, in an oddly formal tone. “The alternative was sweeping the corridors again.”

  Sameena started to laugh as the kids headed out of the compartment, back towards their cabin. It still felt strange to see boys doing anything useful, let alone domestic ... but it also felt right. She took one last look at the vats, then frowned again. They’d managed to produce nearly a hundred pints in a month. Surely the cartel could have produced more.

  But it would be spread out over the entire Empire, she thought, slowly. Even if they produced a million pints, there would only be a small amount for each inhabited world.

  The thought nagged at her mind as she closed the compartment – like every other hatch, there was no actual lock to keep people out – and started to make her way back to the bridge. As far as she could tell, producing vast amounts of mead shouldn't be a problem. There were just too many things that didn't make sense.

  Or maybe they’re just keeping supplies deliberately low, she thought, remembering her discovery of just how useless gold sultans were in the Empire. Enough money to buy a small house on Jannah wouldn't have bought her more than a few meals on Madagascar. That would allow them to keep the prices high.

  “Welcome back,” Hamilton said, when she stepped onto the bridge. “As you can see, we have a friend.”

  He waved at the main display, which showed a single green icon effortlessly keeping pace with the wallowing freighter. Sameena wondered, briefly, what the destroyer’s crew thought about having to tie their speed to a much slower ship, before deciding that it hardly mattered. An escort was about the only way to guarantee that the supplies would reach Sungai Buloh, rather than being captured and resold by pirates.

  “And we’re about to cross the Phase Limit,” Brad said, from his console. “The coordinates are already set for the jump.”

  Sameena nodded, feeling a familiar throbbing at her temple as she remembered what she’d been told about Phase Space. One set of articles had called it an alternate dimension, where the laws of physics were different and starships could travel faster than light; another set had claimed that the starship actually created its own alternate dimension, once it was safely away from the massive gravity well created by a star. She honestly couldn't understand why the drive was used without being understood, but she had to admit that she used plenty of devices without knowing how they worked.

  Besides, the fact it worked was all that mattered.

  “Good,” Hamilton said. “Confirm with our escort and then take us into Phase Space as soon as possible.”

  “Understood,” Brad said. There was a long pause as he worked his console. “Crossing the border .... now. I’d prefer to wait longer before we jumped.”

  “Then do so,” Hamilton said.

  Sameena frowned, puzzled.

  “The gravity well isn't a perfect sphere,” Hamilton explained, noticing her expression. “A military ship can normally compensate for any last-minute flickers, but we can’t. So we wait until we are well clear before we jump.”

  “They’ll complain, of course,” Ethne added. “But if they are really desperate for the supplies ...”

  “They won’t dare complain too loudly,” Sameena finished. A cursory look at the Imperial Navy’s fleet list had convinced her that this contract would just be the first of many. If the navy needed civilian craft, they wouldn't be able to push too hard. “Or would they try to rewrite the contracts?”

  “There is always some leeway built into contracts,” Ethne observed. “You should know that by now.”

  She smiled, rather dryly. “Unavoidable delays happen – and no one wants to chance losing their ship over them,” she added. “Suffice it to say that we would have to be over a week late before they could start using the penalty clauses.”

  “But once they start using them, we’re in deep doo-doo,” Brad offered. He looked down at his display, then up at his father. “I think we can jump from here, dad.”

  “Then tell them that we’re going,” Hamilton ordered. “And then jump us out.”

  Brad keyed a set of switches. This time, Sameena felt a faint sense that something wasn't entirely right blowing through her for a long second, before the universe snapped back to normal. There was nothing but inky darkness on the displays.

  “Phase Space,” Brad said. He smiled over at Sameena. “Next stop; Sungai Buloh. Estimated Time of Arrival: seven days, nine hours.”

  “Splendid,” Ethne said. “And now you have nothing else to do, you can help Paddy and James with the corridors. The decks are a right mess.”

  Brad groaned theatrically, but obeyed.

  “And Sameena, you have schooling to attend to,” Ethne added. “You really don’t want to waste those lessons.”

  Sameena nodded in agreement, then left the bridge.

  Chapter Eleven

  It is not easy, of course, to put a value to different items. The blacksmith may feel that the butcher’s products are worth less than either his or the cobbler’s. However, over time, the free (i.e. uncontrolled) market tends to find a definite value for specific items , if only through suggesting the prices that people are willing to pay. Something priced too high or too low would eventually price itself out of the market.

  - Professor Leo Caesius. The Science That Isn’t: Economics and the Decline and Fall of the Galactic Empire.

  “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Regina, happy birthday to you.”

  Sameena found herself giggling as the song came to an end. It was so different from anything that she had experienced on Jannah that she couldn't help feeling happy ... and a sense that she finally belonged somewhere at long last. Regina looked happy too, even as the older spacers thumped her back or rear ten times each, one whack for each of her years. She would never have to doubt her place among them.

  “Congratulations,” she said. “I hope you’ll have many more birthdays to come.”

  Regina grinned as she sat down at the table and started to open her presents, all wrapped in duct tape and plastic containers that had once held food supplies. One of the containers, when opened, revealed another container; Steve gig
gled mercilessly as Regina worked her way through five successive containers before finally finding the multitool he’d purchased on Madagascar. Regina threw herself into his arms and gave him a tight hug.

  “Just be careful what you unscrew,” Ethne warned, sternly. “I had to speak quite sternly to your brother after he dismantled a terminal and then couldn't put it back together again.”

  Sameena felt her smile growing wider as Regina opened the next present and discovered a paperback book. Brad must have purchased it on Madagascar too, she realised, although she hadn't seen him on the rock. Regina looked at the front cover, then gave Brad a hug too. It was a omnibus edition of a famous novel series that refused to die, even if it was massively outdated by now.

  Captain Hamilton and Ethne had given Regina her own ship’s log, with a droll note advising her to write something in it each day. Sameena had never kept a diary – she had known that her mother would read it, if she found the book – but she had to admit that she understood the attraction. Regina opened it to the first page, carefully wrote her name and communications code on the crisp paper, and then placed it on the table. She stood upright and gave Captain Hamilton a salute, before collapsing into giggles and hugging his wife. The Captain returned her salute gravely.

  “Welcome to being ten years old,” Richard said, once Regina had opened his present. “I’ll be ahead of you again in five months.”

  “Richard,” Ethne said, although there was no real irritation in her tone. “It just means that you will grow old first.”

  “Hah,” Regina said, and stuck her tongue out at her brother. She picked up the final package before Richard could retaliate, then looked up at Sameena. “From you?”