Alpha Fleet (Rebel Fleet Series Book 3)

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Alpha Fleet (Rebel Fleet Series Book 3) Page 13

by B. V. Larson


  She laughed. “No. I was testing to see how fit you are for battle. At least you’re not howling and begging me to stop.”

  The next time her hand came toward my side, I caught it up and kissed it, rather than let her poke at me. The ruse worked, and she smiled.

  “Mia,” I said, “are you prepared to lie to the Terrapinians if they ask you any questions?”

  For a moment, she hesitated. “It’s not the way of Ral,” she said. “We stalk, we ambush, we hide and wait for prey—but we don’t tell falsehoods.”

  “Right… that’s what I thought. Simply don’t answer then, if the topic comes up. Be quiet, as if you’re hunting.”

  “I can do that,” she said, and I sent her back to her post.

  Mia was the only Kher we had aboard ship, so I felt confident in ordering the rest of my crew to go along with my plans. They knew how to lie—they were, after all, humans.

  When everything was prepared, I contacted Captain Verr. He answered politely.

  “You are hereby required,” I told him sternly, “to power up your ship and follow me.”

  “I thought our position was clear. You do not command my vessel.”

  “No,” I said, “but I am an officer in the Rebel Fleet. I am in charge here, because we are of the same rank, and this star system is my home territory.”

  “There must be some confusion,” Verr said. “The Rebel Fleet has disbanded. We are no longer—”

  “Fex is working for the Imperials,” I told him. “Admiral Fex is therefore a tool of the enemy. We are required by ancient accords to unite against him. Proceed to Mars, allow your ship to be repaired, and stop arguing.”

  “This is some kind of primate trick, isn’t it?” Verr asked suspiciously. “You will destroy my ship, or sabotage it, or plant a bomb—”

  “No,” I said. “I came aboard your ship and fought you honorably. You should not dare to insult me now.”

  Verr hesitated for a moment, then he relented. “You’re right. I apologize. It’s just that—what you claim is unfounded. Unproven—impossible.”

  I signaled Hagen then. He sucked in a breath and transmitted what he had.

  During our previous conversations with Admiral Fex, we’d recorded everything he’d said. We created a computer profile of him. Using our ship’s AI, running an impersonation protocol, the ship spoke with his voice and presented his image as we’d seen it in the holoprojector.

  The effect was startling. The AI was quite good at this. The effect reminded me of all the dead actors who’d been brought back to life in films recently.

  “I warn you, Captain Blake,” the simulated Fex said, “the full weight of the Empire is behind me. You will be subjugated.”

  The image vanished a moment later. I glanced at Hagen, but he shrugged. Apparently, that’s all they’d had time to cook up.

  “There you have it,” I said firmly. “Fex as much as admitted he serves the Imperials.”

  “That is a great crime!” Captain Verr said. “But it hardly means I have to listen to your commands.”

  “You’re wrong. Read your reactivation clause. Should hostilities begin again in your local star system, you are bound by your oath to resist.”

  “I’m not in my own star system, I’m—”

  “You’re in my system,” I told him. “Therefore, I’m in charge of the local defense. I require you, as a point of honor, to aid me.”

  Captain Verr looked confused. I saw him turn and confer with a few of his officers.

  “That recording,” he said. “Is that the only—?”

  “Captain Verr,” I said sternly. “You are obviously fearful. I understand this, but you shouldn’t let your terror of Fex cause you to dishonor yourself. Time is of the essence, and you have your orders. I will await your arrival at Mars.”

  After this little speech, I waved for Chang to cut the signal, which he did immediately. Hagen breathed a sigh of relief. I don’t think he was the kind who enjoyed elaborate pretenses.

  “Display the Terrapinian ship,” I said, and the AI did so immediately.

  We all watched to see what they would do. At first, nothing happened.

  “They didn’t take the bait,” Hagen complained. “They’re smarter than that.”

  “They’re dumbasses,” Dalton said with certainty, “but they might have smelled a rat this time.”

  For several minutes, the alien ship did nothing. I began to worry, but I kept up an expression of easy confidence.

  “Perhaps, Captain,” Chang said, “we should contact them again. Perhaps your rapid cutting off of the channel offended them.”

  “I’ve got a better idea,” Hagen said, “let’s get the AI to create another damning scene starring Fex. That first one looked pretty good, but—”

  “No,” I said, thinking they were both amateurs when it came to bluffing. “Just wait.”

  A full ten squirming minutes later, our patience was rewarded at last. The Terrapinian ship turned and followed our course.

  I dared to grin. They’d taken the bait. They weren’t happy about it, obviously. Maybe they’d reviewed their Rebel Fleet contracts as I’d suggested. Maybe they’d held a meeting of the commanding officers and discussed it.

  Whatever the case, their ship was following mine, and that was all that mattered for now.

  =24=

  By the time we reached Mars, I’d explained everything to Earth and the local dockyard people. For some reason, none of them were happy with my solutions.

  “You lied to them?” Admiral Vega demanded. His voice was incredulous.

  “That’s right, sir. The Terrapinian captain said Fex was on his way back soon. We have only my ship, and a few phase-ships in the system. With their vessel fully repaired, we’ll have double the—”

  “This is a diplomatic breach! I can’t be responsible for a fresh shit-storm today. I’m not covering you this time, Blake. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m sorry you feel that way, Admiral. Maybe I’ll die in the upcoming defensive action, and you’ll be relieved of any embarrassment I’ve caused you.”

  He snorted at me. “That might not be a fast enough solution. I’m considering putting your XO, Commander Hagen into the captain’s chair.”

  That surprised me. I felt a pang—not of regret, for I felt sure I’d done the right thing, but I didn’t want to lose command of this ship. I’d only just gotten out into space.

  “You’re of course free to do so,” I said.

  Standing up, I began to pace in my office/cabin. There wasn’t really enough room to do it, and I cursed all the Earth designers—Abrams most of all—for having condensed our living space. My knee bumped my bunk twice before I gave up.

  “Consider this,” I told Vega, “Captain Verr only respects one human: me. I’m an official Rebel Fleet officer, and I beat him in combat one-on-one. My hold on his loyalties is therefore stronger than anyone else’s in this system.”

  “Objection noted,” Hagen said tersely and closed the channel.

  At Mars the repairs began, but they didn’t go quickly. The alien ship’s subsystems weren’t fully compatible, even though both of our vessels used rebel design. It wasn’t a full match. Every power coupling needed a custom adapter, and our computer system didn’t want to connect to theirs at all.

  As a result, we took to cannibalizing whole systems from our newest light cruisers, sister ships to Devilfish, which were still under construction. That would slow down their completion by months, but I figured that Earth might not have months left.

  Even though Captain Verr maintained it was a waste of time to repair the life support system, I insisted we do so anyway. That, plus a number of power generators, formed the bulk of the repairs.

  The weapons, propulsion and navigational systems were all in reasonably good shape. The Terrapinians were most happy about the new generators.

  “This will make a difference,” Verr admitted. “But I don’t like that you will now behave as my lord.”

&nb
sp; “We’re part of an allied force,” I told him. “I’m not your lord—I’m your comrade. Fex is the common foe. How shall we defeat him?”

  Captain Verr turned to stare at me. He looked, after a fashion, to be surprised. “You ask an underling what to do? Why struggle so hard for command then?”

  Gritting my teeth to hide my irritation, I answered him evenly. “I’m following your tradition. Don’t you consult with your top officers before making a key decision?”

  “No,” he said, “I might ask them for information—but that’s not the same thing. Their opinions are nothing. Only their knowledge is of value.”

  “Right... What knowledge do you have that might help us defeat Fex?”

  “It is simple enough. We must gather all our ships into a single fist. We shall strike him with that fist, and if he breaks, we shall win.”

  “That’s an excellent piece of advice,” I lied. “Thank you.”

  “You thank underlings for answering questions? Your day must be filled with trivialities.”

  “Dismissed,” I told him. I was starting to lose it.

  That, he understood. He left my presence without another comment.

  Hagen walked up in his wake. He lowered his voice and shook his head. “What an ingrate,” he said. “We fixed his ship—half wrecking two unfinished vessels of our own to do it—and what does he do? He spits insults at you.”

  “I’m sure he doesn’t see it that way. He’s only being honest about his thoughts and feelings—painfully honest. Many of the Rebel Kher are like that. They don’t appreciate politeness—really, they consider it a form of lying. They understand honor in battle, but they feel no urge to protect anyone else’s feelings.”

  Events took a fresh turn when the Terrapinians flooded our Mars base. It was only natural for them to want to get off their own vessel. They’d been cooped up without life support for weeks.

  Unfortunately, a large number of suspicious, impolite and rather stinky aliens didn’t blend in well. The local yard-dogs weren’t happy and fights inevitably broke out.

  This sort of thing was to be expected among the rebels. They weren’t easy-going, tightly organized people. They were mean, and they were violent. That seemed to be a universal constant among the Kher—vicious in-fighting.

  Our yard-dogs were surprised, but they didn’t run for help. They brawled.

  It was the local base commander who had a conniption and came to talk to me about it.

  “Captain,” he said sternly, “this is a military facility. These aliens are barbarians. You must control them!”

  I looked at him with raised eyebrows. “Me? Haven’t you got MPs or something?”

  “Not enough to policed seven hundred additional stinking aliens! We’ve only got a crew of a thousand, with fifteen assigned to security. They’re overwhelmed.”

  “Well… I wouldn’t worry about it too much, Major. These things happen.”

  “We’ve had a death!” he said, his voice cracking high. I didn’t think he was used to dealing with an officer like me. Most wanted strict discipline. “Did you know that? A death!”

  “Theirs or ours?”

  “Theirs. One of the Terrapinians somehow found himself spinning in space, tossed out of an airlock.”

  I stirred a cup of hot caf and shrugged. “He probably got lost,” I said mildly. “Accidents will happen in space. The Terrapinians will understand.”

  The base commander was wide-eyed. “So, I’m taking it you plan to do nothing? Is that correct? Very well, you leave me no choice. I’m contacting Admiral Vega as soon as—”

  “Really?” I said. “You’re that worked up about this?”

  “A death, Captain. Did you hear me?”

  “Yeah… I’ve seen lots of deaths, Major. But all right, I’ll think of something. To start with, I’ll give you twenty security men armed with shock-sticks.”

  Grumbling, the base commander retreated. With a heavy sigh, I contacted my security chief and ordered him to put patrols on the station. After that, I donned my full dress uniform and applied my old rank pins from the Rebel Fleet to my lapels. They sat next to my earthly insignia. I knew they would give me more creditability with the Terrapinians.

  On the way to the station air lock, I stopped by Abrams’ lab.

  “Hey, Doc,” I called to him. “Are you busy?”

  “Not at all, Captain. I was hoping someone would come by and begin to chatter pointlessly.”

  While he said these sarcastic words, he remained bent over a block of ticking equipment.

  “Okay then, never mind,” I told him and walked out.

  I didn’t get ten paces before I heard a tapping sound behind me.

  “Captain?” Abrams said. “You might at least explain your reasons for interrupting my critical research.”

  “We shouldn’t even talk about it, Doc,” I said. “You’d only be tempted, and I’d feel bad about getting you off-track.”

  Turning my back on him again, I kept walking. Abrams stood still for a few seconds, fuming, but at last he had to come running after me.

  I grinned, but I made sure the expression was gone before I turned back around to face him again.

  “I insist you tell me what’s going on,” he said. “It’s unfair to leave me in the dark.”

  “Well, since you asked, the base commander has a discipline problem.”

  I quickly explained the situation aboard the station. As I did so, Abrams look increasingly bored. He flapped his hand at me dismissively before I’d finished.

  “A single death? Seriously? The man is hopeless. He should resign and take up farming.”

  “I agree, but I came to ask for your help.”

  “A bunch of reeking reptiles who like to start fights on our station… That sounds like work that’s cut out for you, Blake. What assistance can I possibly render?”

  “Normally, I’d agree, but I’ve got an idea. Tell me what you think.”

  After explaining what I planned, he went back to frowning, but this time his attitude was speculative.

  “I don’t know… it will take a day or two. I’m currently involved in something much more important.”

  “Of course you are,” I agreed. “I get it. I thought you might be exhausted and needing a rest. If you’re not up to the challenge, I can accept that.”

  “Well, I didn’t say—”

  “Forget about it,” I told him. “I’ll go back to the base commander instead. Maybe his boys can cook something up.”

  He made a snorting sound. “Absurd. These rubes couldn’t weld a joint closed without consulting the manual.”

  “But you’re clearly not up to this, so I—”

  “I’ll do it,” he said suddenly. “In fact, I insist on it. Clandestine alien experimentation—that’s something that should only be performed by an expert. It could cause a diplomatic flap if botched—by the way, you do have permission to try this, don’t you?”

  I gave him a big smile. “Of course I do, Doc. Glad to hear you can help out. Let me know when you’ve got a prototype working.”

  “I won’t know that without testing…”

  I paused. I hadn’t thought of that. He was right, he had to be allowed to run tests.

  “Yeah…” I said. “Okay, let me know when you think you’ve got something working. We’ll try it out.”

  Walking away before he could ask any more questions, I escaped his level of the ship and headed up to the safer levels.

  Before I went to bed that night with Mia, I took the time to reconsider my plans. They were bold and somewhat dangerous, but I figured the end result would make it all worthwhile… probably.

  =25=

  Abrams worked all night long. That’s the only way I could explain it. By morning, while I was still groggy and standing in the shower, he was buzzing my sym with messages.

  “I’ve got it,” he sent. “I’m certain I’ve got it.”

  I almost messaged him back got what, Doc? But I managed to stop my
self. He had to be talking about the gizmo that had been only a thought in the back of my mind the day before.

  Surprised and elated, I washed up, and after checking with Hagen on the bridge, I raced down to his lab. I hadn’t even had breakfast yet.

  What he showed me was a small, unimpressive device. It looked like a pistol, but with twin forked antennas instead of a gun barrel. The trigger mechanism was still intact, however, and I naturally curled my finger around it.

  “Don’t!” Abrams said urgently.

  I looked at him in surprise. “You think this thing is dangerous?”

  “Of course it is.”

  “But it only sends out a jamming signal, right?”

  “Only a jamming signal? We’re talking about sentient minds here, Blake. Wouldn’t you panic if that dormant organ of yours suddenly misbehaved—that is, if you even noticed?”

  Sometimes, Abrams could annoy even me. I was used to his bullshit, but he kept on pressing buttons until he pissed you off—he was a master at it.

  Tossing the thing in air in his direction, I watched him scrambled to catch it. He cursed at me and glowered.

  “Fine,” I told him, “we’ll do it your way. We’ll conduct a controlled test aboard the station. Now is as good a time as any. Let’s go.”

  He followed me muttering about negligent fools and incompetence.

  I didn’t want to call attention to myself, but I wanted to make sure we weren’t walking into trouble. Accordingly I brought along a trio of security men. They were all muscular, thick-jawed guys who didn’t seem to know how to smile. They were the human equivalent of Terrapinians, in a way.

  We headed first toward the local bar—but it was closed. Even on a space station, crews weren’t allowed to drink until at least noon. We headed to a lunchroom next, where they were serving a late breakfast.

  The patrons eyed us with a mix of alarm and suspicion, but no one said much. They all knew about the crackdown. They probably assumed we were looking for someone in particular to arrest.

  The group might have contained our guinea pigs, but they were all human. There wasn’t a Terrapinian in the bunch.

 

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