Scarecrow shook his head. “I’d call her a garbage scow but that would be an insult to real garbage scows. I’ve never seen a warship in that condition outside a scrapyard.”
Dylan agreed. “That name change is recent. Either they have done something bad under another name and they are running from the consequences of that, or the crew has successfully mutinied and then changed the ship’s name as a matter of course.” He stared at the screen and spoke softly. “Regardless, that is a desperate crew there. It’s got to be Marbellan. Can’t see it any other way.” He looked at his small crew. “We need to ID the class and then follow this ship when she departs Last Chance.”
“Why couldn’t she be a pirate?” asked Gabby.
Dylan paused. “It’s possible. A pirate in that bad of shape would normally stay on his own home turf to try to use contacts or call in favors to get repairs. If he was run out of his home range, the Badlands is as good a place to run to as any.” Dylan eyed the images again. “It is possible.”
Jasmine cut in from her seat. “Maybe a pirate, but I’ve identified the ship class and nationality. Light cruiser of the Thomas Reaver class. Marbella Navy. The entire class is named after famous people in Marbellan history so the cruiser has been given a new name. With no markings on her, I can’t tell which ship she actually is or was.”
“The information is close enough,” Dylan responded. “Good job. I’ll get an update out to the three squadron commanders and we will prepare to tail the good ship Phoenix when she breaks orbit.” He turned to Jasmine. “Please clean up the message routing so it comes directly to us. If it bounces around, Phoenix might break orbit and be gone by the time we get the message.”
“Wilco.”
Five hours passed in companionable silence. Flicker’s crew ate, napped, and played cards. The guys lost to the gals yet again. Scarecrow leaned back in his chair. “I know they cheat. I just can’t spot it.”
Whitlock nodded in agreement as the two women smiled at each other. Scarecrow saw the exchange of looks. “A sad commentary when two beautiful women take great delight in such a low, despicable act.” The man managed to inject a great amount of indignation and disappointment in his voice. The two women burst out laughing.
Scarecrow smiled. “A tad too thick?”
“More than a tad,” laughed Jasmine as she stood up. She stopped suddenly and tilted her head as a hand went to the headphones she had on. “Message from Bright Star. Phoenix has loaded a small amount of supplies and water and is moving to leave orbit.”
Dylan looked at Jasmine. “Please send a receipt of message and a payment to Bright Star. She’s earned it. Let’s get to it.” He paused for a moment and then continued. “Once we and Bright Star depart, we won’t have anyone here. Send a message to our supply sources on Absolution to keep track of any more suspicious supply sales, and we will get back to them in a few days. That should ensure we’ll get a report if any more ships show up.” Jasmine nodded and turned to equipment.
The crew moved to their stations. Flicker was ready to follow Phoenix in fifteen seconds. Five minutes later, a lone light was spotted departing the planet’s atmosphere for the Badlands. The spy ship waited as the light grew larger as the departing ship would pass near her position. That ship was halfway toward Flicker’s position when she suddenly put on a burst of speed and altered course to pass close to Flicker.
Whitlock reacted in an instant. “Turn the ship to match her course, and we will run ahead of her. Go to max sustained speed. Her greater speed means she will pass us so we need the head start.”
Scarecrow at the helm pivoted Flicker to bring her on a matching course to Phoenix. The ship jumped to maximum speed to keep in front of Phoenix as long as possible. The crew was not concerned about being spotted. That would be difficult for any ship to do. They were concerned about speed. The spy ship was built for stealth not speed. She needed to run ahead of Phoenix if she had any hope of keeping contact with her. The cruiser’s superior speed meant she would unknowingly pass the spy ship and then outrun her. This maneuver by Flicker would buy some time, and Dylan hoped Phoenix would throttle back to cruising speed before Flicker lost contact.
“Something spooked her,” Gabby remarked. “Not us but something else.”
Dylan nodded. He turned to Jasmine. “Send a message to Bright Star direct. Ask about incoming traffic to the planet. Phoenix would have been running full sensor sweeps. She saw something coming toward the planet from another direction as she was departing and it scared the hell out of her. I think that something just dropped into orbit around Absolution. I want to know what it is, and we don’t have time to route the request through channels.”
“On it,” Jazz replied. “I’ll use a fake ship name that is on Bright Star’s contact list.”
“That works,” agreed Whitlock.
The message was immediately sent and was answered in forty minutes. Jazz read the reply. “Fourteen warships just arrived with two battlecruisers dropping into orbit while the remainder stayed far out. Unknown Navy. Thought you would want quick reply so have not researched the ships. Images attached.”
Dylan and Gabby crowded close to the floating screen as Jazz brought up and enlarged the images. Two battlecruisers were in a close-up shot as they joined Bright Star in orbit. Behind them, five of the other twelve ships could be seen as bright lights in the distance.
Both ships had a flag painted on each side of their hulls. A large rectangle with many green stars in a circle on a light blue background. “I don’t recognize the markings,” Jazz said.
“I do,” Dylan said with a sigh in his voice. “Count the stars. I bet there are seventeen.” He shook his head in resignation. “The Commonwealth of Nations from the planet Rialta.”
Gabby picked up on it immediately. “Isn’t that the winning side in the civil war with Marbella?”
“Yes, indeed.” Whitlock eyed the two women. “If I had to hazard a guess, I would say the Commonwealth is hunting renegade Marbellan warships, and that has brought them to Absolution. From here, they will go into the Badlands.”
Scarecrow spoke from the helm position. “Just what we need, another player in the Badlands. Our complicated life just got more complicated.”
“Yep,” Dylan agreed. “We’ll let Raferty deal with it. We stay with Phoenix and carry out our original mission.” He turned to Jasmine. “Jazz, please get a message with those new images to the three squadron leaders. Mark it NOW.”
Chapter 56
Raferty and Tactical arrived at Haven Hill just in time for dinner. After a specially prepared meal, they retired to the library with their grandfather to update him on all that had occurred since their departure only four weeks before. The separation time seemed much longer to all three of them. After their update ended with Flot 1 in port at Wanderlust, Tobias Gallagher did his own update on his visit to the Queen and other political maneuvering.
He now looked intently at his grandson. “You and Rebecca have done yeoman service for the Empire. There is more to be done on your part. Remember on your recent departure I promised you a gift?” Raferty nodded and the older man continued. “It is time to give it to you.” He rose and went to his desk. He retrieved a folder and returned to his seat. He handed the folder to his grandson. “That folder contains the Queen’s declaration appointing a new peer. Congratulations. You are now the Duke of Black Hallow.” He smiled at his heir.
The two visitors were stunned. They looked at each other and then back to their grandfather. “No.” It was all Raferty could think of saying.
Gallagher shrugged and smiled again. “Not much of an acceptance speech for this occasion, but I realize this is a surprise, so you had no time to prepare a statement.”
“No,” Hawkins repeated. “You can’t possibly do that. Besides, you will be around for some time longer.”
Gallagher nodded in response. “I hope so and the appointment is only temporary. You will be the 7th Duke of Black Hallow until you depart for the B
adlands, and then the title reverts back to me. You will have one task during this time. That task is in two days. You will be casting a vote for the anti-slavery bill known as Measure 200. Your vote may not be needed, but I think that is unlikely. There is much maneuvering going on regarding the bill and it is difficult to know where the tally is at any given moment. The Prime Minister thinks the votes are there for passage, but I am not so sure. Anyway, if the vote of the Black Hallow peerage is needed, you will appear in the Upper House and cast it.”
Tactical was intrigued. She was always interested in the strategic and tactical maneuvering of forces regardless of the type of units or the manner of battlefield. “Why does he need to cast the vote instead of you, Grandfather?”
“The peers need to see the future and this young man represents it. If he casts the vote, they will know there is a new man among them. A man not beholden to old alliances, or who owes favor to anyone. A man who cannot be bought. Simply put, a wild card. A wild card that cannot be paid for or threatened. A man who is used to violence and has no qualms about delivering it. The media has played up your part in the recent battle. Also, tomorrow there will be a leak regarding your raid on the secret base codenamed Murmansk. You will come out of the reporting looking very well.
“Your appearance in the Upper House will cause tremors all the way to the Goldenes Tor Empire. A new peer of the realm who is a war hero and has the Queen’s confidence. It will help you in the Badlands. The media will report your departure when you return to that region. The Upper House appearance ensures the Goths will know of the appointment, but will not know the appointment has been revoked upon your departure. Let them think they are dealing with an Empire peer. The Queen has committed to supporting you in the Badlands with an obsolete squadron. Their commander has yet to be selected, and the Queen desires your input on that. That commander will cooperate with you in every way possible short of war. This short appearance in the Upper House should have long term advantages for you.”
The two grandchildren nodded. It made sense as far as helping them in the Badlands. Rafe spoke, “The Goths will expect me to conduct myself as a peer of the realm, and once I don’t, they will probably figure out I don’t have the title anymore.”
“Agree. When you decide to toss out the rulebook, make sure it is worth it. You won’t get a second chance to surprise them.”
The two young people looked at each other. This was a surprise, but it could be a positive surprise. Receiving two Royal Navy destroyers and now this. Two positive surprises in a row. Neither of them could recall that ever happening before. Rafe looked at his grandfather with a slight smile. “I agree the title may be a help. You are taking it back when we leave?”
The older man smiled. “Of course. But you will get it back eventually, and you will have it for many decades. I know you will do the title proud.”
“Not for a long time, I hope,” Rafe responded.
Chapter 57
A shuttle sped over the city and dodged between the high buildings. It set up a shallow approach to Government House. The ship smoothly flew to a hover over the landing pad on the roof of the large building. It floated for a second and then settled to a light touchdown. The passenger hatch slid open and one man stepped down the two steps to the pad. The man’s dark attire was covered by a hooded cloak of great age. He carried a long walking stick that was the old, traditional symbol of his position. The cloak and stick had not been out in public in several years, but appearance and tradition were important now, and so these items saw the light of day again.
A lone man was waiting at the door leading down into the building. The shuttle shut down as the passenger came forward. The waiting man advanced and extended his hand. The two men met, shook hands, and the waiting man spoke. “Thank you for the quick response, Your Grace. You are certainly needed.”
The passenger gave him a wry smile in response. “It will take some time to get used to being called that. It is an honor to help in this.”
The first man smiled in response. He turned and pointed toward the door. “This way, sir.”
The man then stepped to the door and opened it for the visitor to pass through, and then followed him through the door and guided him through the building.
The Upper House was a reference to both a governing body and the large room in which the body met. The room was circular with a descending floor that flowed down from the back to the front. In the front of the huge room was level area with a large podium. On the podium were two imposing desks. The prime minister and his secretary occupied the desks and had a grand view of the room. They looked out on one hundred and four desks arranged in four semi circles facing toward them. A wide center aisle split the four rows as it descended in steps from the double doors in back to the front where the prime minister resided. On first glance, visitors often got the impression of a theater with the prime minister’s position being the stage. That impression was not wholly inaccurate, as this location had seen more than its share of acting and high drama. Such a drama was playing out today.
The large room was quiet now. The voting was done and was now being tabulated by the secretary seated next to the Prime Minister. It was symbolic only. Everyone knew what the count was. The anti-slavery measure had failed again, this time by one vote. Votes had shifted at the last moment. Two peers who had pledged to support the bill had suddenly sent regrets as to not being able to attend due to pressing matters elsewhere. With the Duke of Black Hallow absent, the vote was 51 to 50. Everyone knew it, but they were bound to wait for the official tabulation. The opponents of Measure 200 had gone all out to win. Led by Reginald Moore, they had twisted arms, called in favors, and made threats. The hard press had paid off.
Sky looked around the chamber from her desk in the second row on the right side. A few of the peers were talking quietly to each other. Most looked downcast. Even the people who had voted against the bill, and had won this round, looked unhappy. Nobody was elated over the result. The ongoing slave trade was an embarrassment to all and everyone knew it. Those who voted against the measure thought of slavery as a necessary evil to be abolished “someday soon.” It was always someday soon, and had been for decades. The only thing left now was to officially announce the corpse was dead for another year and for all the participants to slink off.
The main door at the back of the chamber opened. In the silence, few turned to the low sound. People came and went all the time. Unnoticed except by an observant few in the back, the man in the hooded cloak came in. He walked down the wide steps of the center aisle toward the front of the hall. Peers on both sides of the aisle started to notice him as he passed. The low hum of conversations died as the quiet stranger slowly captured the attention of the Upper House. Peers looked at him and then at each other in questioning glances. This was an unscheduled event and that made people uneasy.
The man stopped several steps before reaching the floor at the front of the hall. He had the attention of the majority of the room now. Only the peers on the outer edges of the assembly furthest from the center aisle were unaware of the visitor. The figure was abeam Skyler Mallory, about seven meters away with six peers between them, but she had a good view of the intruder.
“Mister Prime Minister, I wish to be heard.” The man spoke with an authoritative command voice. Sky gasped as she recognized it. She had no idea why he should be here, but she knew it was for a good purpose. Van Drucker heard the sound and turned to her with a questioning glance. Sky gave him her most radiate smile. “We’ve won.” He stared at her, still with the questioning look. She grabbed his upper arm and leaned close to his face. She nodded in answer to his look. “We’ve won. It is finally over.”
Van Drucker flicked his head to the hooded figure. “Him?”
She nodded again in confirmation and then spoke with a hard edge. “Him.”
Prime Minister Strickland had been watching the man descend the wide stairs. He nodded to the stranger. “Advance and be recognized.”
/> The man descended three more stairs, but remained two steps above the main floor. At the same time, he reached up and pulled his hood back with one hand while the other clutched the walking stick. He announced himself.
“Raferty Hawkins, Duke of Black Hallow.”
Strickland responded quickly. “You are recognized, Duke of Black Hallow. State your business.”
“I wish to apologize to this august body as I am unfamiliar with your rules, but I understand there is a vote today and I wish to participate.” As Hawkins talked his head swiveled around to take in the majority of the seated peers, and make sure everyone heard his voice.
Strickland spoke in an official tone. He wanted this done quickly before his opponents could deduce what was coming. “You have the right and the privilege of the franchise in this body. The bill before the assembly is Measure 200 to bar commerce with any company, corporation, government, or any other entity that profits from the slave trade.” His voice rose in volume and authority. “As to Measure 200, what say you, Black Hallow?”
Hawkins voice rang with conviction. “I say AYE, my Lord!”
The silence ended abruptly. Shouts of “I wish to be heard!” came from several peers above the normal noise of confusion. Strickland was having none of it. The secretary who was so slowly and painstakingly adding up the vote seemed to have arrived at the final tally at a most convenient moment. He spoke quickly. “Mister Prime Minister, we have a tie on Measure 200. You have the deciding vote. What say you, Prime Minister?”
Strickland spoke with the same volume and authority as Hawkins. “I say AYE!”
The secretary talked so fast he almost spoke over Strickland. “Measure 200 is passed and now carries the force of law!”
Echoes from Yesterday: Pirates of the Badlands Series Book 4 Page 32