Wrecker's Moon

by Patrick McClafferty

  “There are nine levels of Black Belt, culminating in becoming a Master.” G’Fleuf replied seriously. “While we studied the basics up to black belt you learned the hand-to-hand techniques of the art. Now you will learn how to polish those skills, and improve them through the use of weapons.”

  Kelsoe’s eyes were shining. “Cool.” She whispered.

  “We are approaching the Wrecker’s Moon.” Mia said softly. Kelsoe leaned forward in her command chair, her grey eyes intent. “I am picking up short range communications from the area of the crashed troop transport.”

  “Let’s head that way Mia.” The screen banked as the saucer turned.

  “Shall I cloak the ship?”

  Kelsoe bit her lip. “No, I don’t think so this time. Let’s just set it down between the two ships, if we can. Make sure that you’re broadcasting a friendly IFF.”

  “Our IFF reports us as a Fleet Survey Ship, assigned to the house of Smith.” Mia observed in a calm voice.

  “What are your plans, Kelsoe?” G’Fleuf asked nervously.

  “I’m just landing right out in the open.” The young woman responded thoughtfully. “I’m here to talk, and not to fight.”

  “You might want to remember that.” The grey skinned Drugud replied softly, his stiffened tentacles making the point for him without words.

  The silver saucer slid between the two military behemoths and settled slowly to the dusty lunar surface. There had been no transmissions, and no communications of any sort on their approach, but Kelsoe was sure that every eye, if not every weapon, was trained in her direction. The ramp flowed down to the surface, and taking a deep breath, Kelsoe followed it. Fleet EVA suits are generally heavy and bulky, designed to protect the wearer from the vagaries of working in a vacuum. Her current EVA suit of alien design, was a stock item on the saucer, and happened to be crystal clear. At first glance it probably appeared to the observers that Kelsoe had stepped out in nothing more than her comfortably snug shipsuit. She certainly wasn’t armed as far as they could see…and she was sure that they were looking very carefully. The thought gave her a small vicarious thrill.

  “Defense systems are activated.” Mia whispered in Kelsoe’s ear as her feet squeaked in the dry powdery dust. Kelsoe stopped just beneath the edge of the saucer’s disk, and put her hands on her hips.

  “Well,” she began, transmitting on the standard military frequency, “are you going to come out and talk to me, or shall I just get back in my ship and head off to Wecarro?”

  A hatch in the side of the destroyer slowly slid open, as a similar hatch in the military transport followed suit. Six forms encased in heavy military grade EVA suits stepped out of each ship. Eleven of those figures held heavy energy rifles. The twelfth figure appeared to be unarmed.

  “All twelve figures have been targeted, Kelsoe.” Mia murmured. “Give the word and I will stun them all.”

  “Let’s hold off on that, shall we?” Kelsoe sub vocalized. “I’m here to make friends, remember?” That having been said, Kelsoe took two steps towards the approaching figures, stopped, held out her arms from her sides and did a slow 360 degree pirouette. She stopped and returned her hands to her hips. “Well?” She began aloud. “You can see I have no weapons, and I’m sure not going to strip for your perverse pleasure.”

  The single unarmed figure stepped forward. “I wouldn’t ask you to.” There was soft laughter in the speaker’s voice. “I am Eris Descartes, Captain of the Fleet Destroyer Perilous.” She made a waving gesture, and one of the armed men from the troop transport approached. “This gentleman is Lieutenant Justus Rehn, the surviving ranking officer of the 283rd Imperial Marine Expeditionary Detachment.” In the military EVA suit Kelsoe could barely make out the fact that the face of the speaker was that of a woman, but she nodded politely.

  “Captain, Lieutenant, I am Kelsoe Shareera Smith, daughter of Lady Lydia Smith and Aarlan Theodosius Smith and Captain of the Fleet Survey Ship Wyvern.” She was close enough to Captain Descartes to see her eyes widen, and the Marine Lieutenant gave an involuntary twitch.

  “That’s impossible!” The destroyer captain blurted.

  Kelsoe sighed, and shrugged her shoulders. “My mother was pregnant when the liner she was on was lured here to crash. She and a faithful attendant survived, and she assumed the name of her cousin, another pregnant young woman who was traveling with her and did not survive. Mother lived for two years after I was born. Several weeks ago a military convoy was lured here. One of the ships involved was this saucer.” She glanced at the Lieutenant. “One of the other ships was your transport, Lieutenant, and the freighter carrying your heavy weapons. My father, Aarlan was killed in the crash, but not before he could turn several important things over to me. The first was the ship itself, which immediately recognized me as a Smith.” She gave the Captain a long look. “You may take a sample of my blood, if you wish, to verify my DNA. There is much more to tell, but I don’t think we should do so outside, and on a public frequency.” Kelsoe smiled. “I’d like to extend you a welcome to the Wyvern. She is a little cramped compared to a destroyer, but I have a very nice wardroom that doubles as a dining hall, and the food is good.”

  Eris gave a low laugh. “It will be a nice change.” She glanced at the Lieutenant. “We accept.”

  Kelsoe smiled. “Excellent. Lieutenant Rehn, please leave your weapon outside. You will be quite safe, I assure you.” She could see the frown through the helmet as the Marine officer handed his weapon to the man at his side. Kelsoe let out the breath she’d been holding. “Mia,” she said aloud, “you can deactivate the defense systems.”

  “As you wish.” Mia’s voice came across the public frequency, and Kelsoe noticed all the point defense ports close.

  “You weren’t as defenseless as you at first seemed.” Eris said dryly. “Who is this Mia?”

  Kelsoe chuckled as she led the way up the ramp. “Mia is the ship’s AI, the Wyvern’s heart and soul, so to speak.”

  “I’ve never heard of one so advanced.” The captain admitted as they all crowded into the small airlock.

  “Like the Wyvern herself, Mia isn’t of human origin, and I’ve been told that her programming was at the hands of Aarlan Smith himself.” Kelsoe replied, as she helped the other two out of their EVA suits. Pushing open the heavy airlock door, Kelsoe stepped into the ship.

  “Welcome aboard the Wyvern, Captain Descartes and Lieutenant Rehn.” Mia, standing in the corridor dressed as Kelsoe in a black shipsuit, gave them a gracious bow.

  “I thought you said that Mia was an AI?” Eris asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “I am, Captain.” Mia responded with a small smile. “I’m using fourth generation holo-emitters. Admiral Bacheva was gracious enough to let me copy the designs, and I’ve made a few…improvements; such as adding full tactile control.”

  Kelsoe waved to the small wardroom table. “Have you had lunch?”

  “I had some rations before you arrived.” The Lieutenant growled, his jaws tightening. Kelsoe wondered just what his problem was. Unlike Captain Descartes black Fleet shipsuit, his own uniform was a mottled grey and green.

  “Lunch sounds wonderful.” Eris returned with a small smile as she sat. “The Lieutenant is somewhat over concerned with our safety.”

  “It’s you loss, Lieutenant.” Kelsoe bit her tongue to keep from laughing. “Mia, we would like two bowls of your prawn bisque with basil, two small green salads, and two cups of hot tea.”

  “Hot rolls?” Mia asked from her end of the table.

  “Yes please. That would be delicious.” Kelsoe replied in a level voice as the food appeared on the table. “Please, dig in Captain. The bisque and the rolls are best steaming hot.”

  The Captain raised a spoonful of the soup to her lips, and her eyebrows went up. “Is this how you usually eat?”

  Kelsoe laughed. “Not hardly. Mia has a menu of items my father liked, and surprises me on occasion.” She waved at the table. “This was a favorite of his, or so
I’ve been told. My tastes are more pedestrian, and run to things like synthetic steak and potatoes.” She paused, and there was a twinkle in her eye. “Admiral Bacheva seemed to like the bisque when we served it to her.” There was a low growl from the other end of the table and Kelsoe frowned for a moment until she realized that it had come from the Lieutenant’s stomach. The young man in question was trying to slowly sink into his seat, his cheeks flaming. “Oh don’t be such a goose, Lieutenant.” Kelsoe pointed to the open spot before the soldier and suddenly soup, salad and tea appeared. “Eat, please.” The young man picked up his spoon, but wouldn’t look Kelsoe in the eye.

  Beside her Captain Descartes rolled her eyes as if to say, ‘men!’ She set her spoon down and turned to Kelsoe. “You’ve spoken to the Admiral. Does she have orders for us?”

  Kelsoe patted her lips with a napkin, and pushed what was left of her food away. “I do have orders for you, but first let me ask how repairs are coming?”

  The Captain sipped her tea, and looked up with serious brown eyes. “We could probably have done a little better in a shipyard, but not much. The main wrecker base may have been destroyed by the Task Force, but the stock of equipment used to work on and dismantle starships still remains. The Perilous will be fit for duty in two weeks. It will probably take another week for us to finish the repairs on the Fleet Transport Terrannen.”

  “You repaired the troop carrier?” Kelsoe was surprised, and pleased.

  “We did.” Eris confirmed. “The freighter was too badly damaged for us to repair at this time, and it will be a shame to destroy all those weapons.”

  Kelsoe smiled. “That may not be necessary. There are three other ships headed here, two of them for repair; a frigate and another destroyer. The third ship is a support freighter with parts, supplies and fuel.” She took a deep breath. “I led your Fleet to engage a Vonuborg Armada of three hundred plus ships that was headed this way. The advancing Armada was slowed down, but not stopped, and your small Task Force was somewhat mauled. With what remains of her ships the Admiral will continue to harass the enemy, slowing them as much as she is able while I and the Wyvern make a run to Wecarro to summon the Fleet. Both the Admiral and I would like you to remain here with your small group of ships until I return. Your ships are too light and too few to make a significant difference in the battle.”

  The destroyer captain set her empty tea cup down. “What destroyer is coming?” Her voice was tense but controlled.

  “The Admiral informed me that it was the Sword of the Primus, Captained by Bente Velo, and the Frigate Grazer.”

  A tension seemed to go out of the Captain’s shoulders. “Bente is my first cousin.” She explained. “We are both distant cousins to the Primus, or so it is said. It is the reason we received our commissions and ships at such a young age.” Her smile was crooked, and then the color drained from her face as a thought hit her. She stared at Kelsoe with wide eyes. “That means that YOU are the Primus.” The Lieutenant had stopped eating and was staring abashedly at Kelsoe. Eris laughed, and reddened. “It took me long enough to figure it out.”

  It was Kelsoe’s turn to sigh and roll her grey eyes. “All it means it that I am Kelsoe Smith, former wrecker and scum of the earth pirate. I am now a ship captain who is trying to prevent a whole lot of bloodshed. That’s all. No fancy titles.”

  Eris cocked her head to one side, giving Kelsoe a suspicious look. “Why? Why are you doing this?”

  Kelsoe frowned. “I guess I’m doing it because I can’t stand the thought of all those other Smiths, the family I never knew about, dying when I might do something about it.”

  “I see what Admiral Bacheva saw in you; noble is as noble does, or so the saying goes.” She gave Kelsoe a small bow. “How can we be of service?” She never said the word Primus, but her meaning was clear.

  Kelsoe flushed, and swore under her breath while out of the corner of her eye she caught the Marine Lieutenant grinning. “Just get your ships fixed and stand by for the other ships. You might consider moving your operations elsewhere.” A holographic display of the Wrecker’s Moon appeared floating above the table. “We are here.” Kelsoe pointed and a glowing dot appeared on the map. “Here…” She moved her finger and another spot appeared on the map. “…is a second, long abandoned Den. The power source is powered down, but can be reactivated to provide air and water. If you were to strip the food replicators from the crashed Lunare Queen you would have good food along with comfortable and more importantly hidden quarters for both crewmen and Marines.”

  Captain Eris Descartes leaned back in her seat and gave Kelsoe a long thoughtful look. “I thought for a moment or two that you were simply a lost little girl playing ship captain. Apologies, Kelsoe. It seems as if I was wrong on all counts. You are not lost and you certainly are not playing ship captain.”

  Kelsoe’s smile tasted bitter on her lips. “So you say. At fifteen years old, I certainly feel lost.”

  Captain Descartes nodded slowly. “That’s what you have staff for, Captain Smith. The Primus of the Staarkand Empire was never expected to do things all for himself or herself.”

  “Yeah,” Kelsoe admitted sourly, “but sending the FTL message to Fleet is my job alone.”

  Lieutenant Rehn gave the young woman a level look. “A few Marines traveling with you might make things easier, and provide you with a bit of defense if you need it.”

  Kelsoe laughed. “And would those same Marines be able to masquerade as servants? I really couldn’t picture you in a maid’s dress, Lieutenant.” The destroyer captain snorted back a laugh while the Marine glowered and turned red. “I’m going to assume the duties of a lowly kitchen maid, sneak into the Royal Quarters, send the message and sneak back out. I’ve been training for weeks now, and I will train until the mission actually begins.”

  “Do you need weapons?” The Lieutenant asked in a professional voice. By way of an answer, Kelsoe removed her small stunner from her pocket, removed the charge and set it on the table. The Marine officer picked it up and ran a quick professional eye over it. “Small, easily concealed, very powerful for its size, and very illegal. Where did you get it?” He asked, setting the gun back on the table.

  Kelsoe picked up the gun, reloaded it and stuck it back in her pocket. “I took it from the body of a dead drug smuggler I found on the Lunare Queen down in Engineering. She had a small problem breathing vacuum, and had no further use for it.”

  One of the Lieutenant’s eyebrows went up for a moment. “I see.” He murmured in a flat voice.

  Kelsoe just shrugged. “It was my job. I stripped the electronics from the crashed ships. In return for the salvage the bosses provided me with food, air, and let it be known that I was working for them. That usually kept the more troublesome riff-raff off my tail. My only real friend is a Drugud named G’Fluef. He was my mother’s companion before we crashed, and a long time family retainer. He raised me after mother…died.” She gave a bitter little laugh. “At first I was a simple slave to him, and then a helper. Finally I did all of the salvage while he maintained the life support systems on the Den. That entitled us to our own small and private quarters.”

  “Where did you learn about electronics?” Eris asked curiously.

  Kelsoe smiled at the memory. “G’Fleuf taught me with an on-board educator. The science vessel that was our home was very well equipped. He taught me a dozen years of education, as well as Kran-Chak so that I would be able to defend myself.” The Marine snorted a laugh. “The courses were fully tactile-kinesthetic,” Kelsoe explained in a weary voice, “and I could feel everything. I’m looking forward to receiving weapons training once we get to Wecarro and get more advanced data.”

  Justus Rehn was looking at her seriously now. “We have Kran-Chak data files aboard the troop transport. You are welcome to them, although you may find them a little over your level.”

  “I’ve already got them.” Mia announced triumphantly in Kelsoe’s ear.

  “You are a thief at heart,
did you know that?” Kelsoe sub vocalized while keeping her face impassive.

  “You should talk.”

  Kelsoe raised her eyes to the Lieutenant. “I was speaking with Mia. She already found the data you were speaking of and made copies of it. She thanks you, however, for your generous offer.”

  Lieutenant Rehn’s eyes went very wide. “Those files are encrypted, on a Fleet encrypted server.” He stared at the holographic form of Mia who was sitting calmly at the end of the table, her hands folded in her lap.

  She looked up at him and smiled. “Do you really think THAT would stop me?” She asked in low sensuous voice. “The Admiral wasn’t able to keep me out of her data files on the flagship, so what makes you think yours are any better or more secure?”

  Eris leaned back in her chair and began to laugh. “We came over here thinking that we had the advantage, Justus.” She paused to wipe her eyes. “We are playing out of our league.” She turned to Kelsoe. “When do you plan to leave for Wecarro?”

  Kelsoe smiled. “As soon as we finish lunch, Eris.”

  “Is there anything we can do before you continue along your way?”

  “Not at the moment, but it is nice to know that I have friends at my back.” She stood and the others followed. “Give my regards to your cousin. We watched his battle with the Vonuborg with our hearts in our throats, so to speak, and I’m glad he survived.” Reaching out she took the captain’s hand in her own, and then the lieutenant’s. “I will see you both again.”

  “Make sure that you do.” Eris said over her shoulder as she entered the small air lock. “I have a hunch that the Staarkand Empire will need your unique talents.” An ironic little smile played across her face. “Or at least the Smith family will.”

  “Surviving is my intention.” Kelsoe replied, sealing the heavy airlock door with a dull clang.

  It was with a small feeling of sadness that Kelsoe watched the Wrecker’s Moon drop away below them as the saucer again headed for deep space. It would have been enjoyable, chatting with the well-traveled destroyer captain for a few days, or even the over-cautious lieutenant.