Inadvertent Adventures

by Jones, Loren K.

  “How long till hyperspace minimum, Sterling?” Ann asked and he consulted his panel.

  “Seven days, two hours, and thirty odd minutes.”

  “Very well. Set regular space watch sections, and get Carrie-Marie in the galley. I’m hungry.”

  Everyone hurried to obey Ann’s order with Sterling taking the command chair and Bart Roberts taking Navigation and Helm. With nothing ahead of them except open space and a few meteors, one person was all that was needed.

  The trip through hyperspace was routine. No one wanted it to be anything else. Non-routine in hyperspace tended to be dangerous. The crew settled down and began to firm up. There was still a little friction, but it was easing as familiarity and close quarters brought even Thom Oslund around. It took just five days ship time in hyper to reach their emergence point and the computers warned them two hours ahead of time.

  Ann was in her command chair, Amanda was at the helm, and Denise was at the navigator’s station. Emergence was always the most dangerous part of a trip. There was no way of knowing what was in your path until you hit normal space, and at one tenth the speed of light, even a grain of sand could be dangerous.

  The Dragon system had no habitable planets, but it did have an abundance of nickel-iron asteroids. The Erin Combine had come to the system as a mining operation, and stayed for over two hundred years as a premier builder of civilian spaceships. The Admiral Ann’s Revenge was directed toward the central portion of the cluster of shipyards and ordered to dock at Green Dragon Eight.

  Station Health checked the ship thoroughly before allowing the hatches to be opened. A man in the uniform of the Erin Combine was waiting when the hatch opened. “I am Allan O’Reordan. I understand that you have a shipment of produce for my kitchens.”

  “We do, Sir,” Ann agreed. “We’ll begin unloading as soon as you sign for the payment.”

  “You’ll begin unloading now and I’ll sign if I’m satisfied.”

  “No, Sir. This is a payment on arrival contract, and I won’t unseal the hatch until we’ve been paid.”

  The man took a step back and smiled. “I don’t think you know who you’re dealing with.”

  “And I know you don’t know who you are dealing with. But you go first so I can be impressed,” Ann almost snarled back at him.

  “I control these docks. You cross me, you won’t get another load, or even fuel. Got me?”

  Ann almost laughed. “We have fuel enough to reach another system, Mister O’Reordan. You’ll have a hard time explaining why we left with your food shipment still on board.”

  The man glared at her, then looked over his shoulder. Three men came forward, one in a suit, one in a System Security uniform, and a third in the uniform of a CSS-SN lieutenant commander with the name Bradford on his breast.

  “Is there a problem, Mister O’Reordan?” the Security officer asked.

  “There is a problem with this shipment. I want this ship impounded and the cargo seized,” he snapped and the three men looked at Ann.

  “Captain,” the Navy officer began but Ann held up her hand to stop him.

  “Admiral. To be precise, Rear Admiral Annette Fairmont Stevenson, retired, commanding officer of the armed merchantman Admiral Ann’s Revenge.”

  “Um, what would be the problem?” the lieutenant commander asked.

  “The problem is that this man wants to modify our contract now that we’ve arrived. I will not unseal the ship until he has signed for our payment. That is how the contract is worded. If you try anything else, I’ll issue a call to Beta Sector Command and request an arbitrator. Or, if you insist, I’ll undock and take these damn vegetables elsewhere.”

  “You won’t get away with-”

  “Allan, shut up,” the lieutenant commander whispered harshly. “Just sign the damn contract. I’ll explain later.”

  “Taylor, what—”

  “Just do it. No tricks. Not with this ship.”

  O’Reordan gave Lieutenant Commander Bradford a look that carried a thousand questions, but finally took the contract from Ann and signed it. “There. Now deliver our shipment.”

  Ann nodded to Sterling and the big cargo hatch opened. Sleds and lifts entered the ship as Sterling delivered stacked crates to the main door with his cranes. It took far less time to unload than it had taken to load, and Ann stayed beside Mister O’Reordan the whole time, counting crates as they passed.

  “That is the entire shipment, Mister O’Reordan.”

  “Very well. But I meant what I said. You won’t get—”

  “Allan, don’t!” Lieutenant Commander Bradford snapped.

  “What the hell is wrong with you, Taylor?”

  “Her,” he almost shouted as he pointed at Ann. “Her maiden name is Fairmont, as in Secretary of Commerce Fairmont. She’s his baby sister. You want her crying on big brother’s shoulder about the combine?”

  The man looked at Ann with a sick expression on his face, then fled. The security man followed him. Finally, the man in the suit stepped forward. “Captain, or should I say Admiral Stevenson, what is your capacity?”

  “We can haul nineteen thousand tons,” she answered.

  “Very well. I will see if we have a shipment that small. Good day to you,” he said with a slight bow.

  “Who was that O’Reordan character?” she asked before he had turned completely away.

  “Allan? He’s sort of an unofficial official. He keeps things running on the docks with little trouble.”

  “You should replace him. Commander Bradford is correct. It would be unfortunate if I had to call in a favor from Andy.”

  The man paused, and then shook his head. “Some people are hard to replace, Admiral Stevenson. Allan wields a lot of power on these docks.”

  “I see,” Ann said as she looked past the man. “I see indeed.”

  “I’ll contact you shortly about a cargo, but we seldom have anything small enough for you to carry.” Without another word he turned and walked away with Lieutenant Commander Bradford close on his heels.

  *

  A message arrived for Ann three hours later. “Admiral Ann’s Revenge, we have a shipment to the Maori System. It’s small, just ten thousand tons, but urgently needed. The space liner Herakles has suffered an engineering casualty and is stranded in Maori orbit. She needs a complete new set of Johansen Coils, and the dockyards in Maori only have three. I’ll guarantee you a twenty-thousand credit profit if you’ll take the load and leave now.”

  “He wants us out of here for some reason,” Ann mused as she chewed the end of her stylus. “Fortunately, I want out of here badly enough to take a low profit shipment to make it happen. Signal our acceptance and get down to the hold, Sterling. Start loading and I’ll be down in just a bit to sign for it.”

  The loading process was well underway when Ann arrived. Olaf had brought Balder Pastulka and Thom Oslund up to help, and it was Balder who stopped everything. “Sterling, hold up on this one!” he shouted as the crane lifted a crate.

  Sterling immediately stopped the crane and lowered the crate back to the deck. “What ya got?”

  “Seal ain’t right, Sterling,” he shouted up. He turned to face Ann. “The seal on this crate has been tampered with. See? It’s not aligned properly.”

  Ann turned to face Lieutenant Commander Bradford. “Have it opened and inspected or it all comes off my ship,” she commanded.

  Lieutenant Commander Bradford nodded, but he looked unhappy. The crate was brought out and a cargo strap cutter applied to the seal. When the crate was opened, there was nothing to see but a section of coil.

  “Looks fine to me,” Mister Bradford said, but Balder shook his head.

  “That’s cause you don’t know what to look for. I worked interdiction for five years on the Cranston. Look here,” he said and pointed to the packing material around the coil. “See how disturbed this is? Someone shoved something down into the packing, and they were sloppy about it.” He reached down into the packing foam and pulle
d out a block of grey material. He repeated the process three more times.

  “Is that—?”

  “Looks like it. Someone just tried to smuggle arish powder on my ship,” Ann said in a flat tone. “Get the rest of that crap off my ship. I’ll run dry before I—”

  “Captain, wait,” the man in the suit said as he came forward with his hands raised. “Please calm down. We’ll inspect the cargo very carefully and ensure there are no other contraband items.”

  Ann turned to Lieutenant Commander Bradford and said, “You’ll get your drug dog and search the whole thing. Now. If anything else is found, my brother will be the least of your worries.” The young officer reacted to Ann’s order as if she had shouted and all but ran away from the dock.

  “As for you,” she said as she turned to face the man in the suit, “I mean it as well. We can afford one bad run if we have to. But if I have to, you’ll be facing some very tough questions.”

  “I’m sure there is nothing else in the shipment, Admiral Stevenson,” he assured her, but he was nervous and kept looking toward the ship.

  Lieutenant Commander Bradford returned with a dog and her handler half an hour later. Ann accompanied them into the hold while Sterling and Olaf stayed at the hatch. No other drugs were found on board, but just as the last crate was being brought in the dog whined.

  “What do you smell, Isabel?” the handler asked, and Isabel scratched at the crate. “She says there’s something inside, Sir,” he reported to Lieutenant Commander Bradford.

  This time no one was hesitant at all about opening the crate. Inside they didn’t find drugs: they found a bomb.

  “That looks like—”

  “—About ten tons of plastex,” Sterling said. “Enough to destroy the ship and kill us all.”

  “I can’t believe he would go that far,” Lieutenant Commander Bradford said as the man in the suit stared at the crate full of explosives.

  “I can,” the Combine representative whispered. Turning to Ann, he said, “Admiral Stevenson, leave while you can. I think things are about to get very interesting here,” the man in the suit said as he stripped off his jacket. “I’m afraid that our good Mister Allan O’Reordan has gone too far this time. He just made it worth the trouble to get rid of him.”

  Ann motioned everyone back aboard the ship and all but ran up to control. “Sterling, shove off immediately. I think a gang war just started on the docks. Navigator, plot a course to the Maori System. Sterling, get clearance from orbital control before all order is lost, and get us the hell out of here.”

  Sterling and Denise obeyed and the Admiral Ann’s Revenge practically leapt away from the space docks. They were accelerating hard, using the extra power of their engines to speed out of the system. They had only gone a few thousand kilometers when the radio chatter began. The ‘Company’ was fighting the ‘Micks’ and doing well until someone set off the bomb at Green Dragon Eight. Then the Company changed tactics. Instead of trying to subdue the ‘Micks’ they started simply killing them. After that it was a slaughter. The crew of the Admiral Ann’s Revenge continued to listen to the broadcasts until they reached a safe distance from the star and the velocity of point one C. Then they vanished as the fight for Dragon raged behind them.

  *

  The Admiral Ann’s Revenge emerged from hyperspace nine days later and Ann immediately radioed the system government. “This is the independent freighter Admiral Ann’s Revenge, Reserve Admiral Stevenson in command, on a course in-system of three-seven-one by two-five-eight. We have just come from the Dragon System where there appears to be a revolt or civil war starting. This is Reserve Admiral Annette Stevenson calling for assistance to be sent to Dragon.”

  “It’ll take three hours for that to hit Maori System Control, Ann. You need to relax and let the Navy take over. There should be at least four ships in orbit,” Sterling said as he set their course toward the star and began their deceleration.

  “I just wish there was more we could do, but I know you’re right,” Ann said as she sat in her chair, wringing her hands in frustration. “At least the Navy can use higher initial velocities to get there faster. They don’t have to pay for their own fuel.”

  Sterling didn’t reply. He knew her far too well to think anything he could say would make her feel better about their circumstances.

  Their message was replied to seven hours later. “Admiral Ann’s Revenge, this is Captain Franklin Delany, commanding CSS Galahad. We are out-system bound on our way to the Dragon System. Admiral Stevenson, thank you for your assistance. Wolf and Marilee Witherspoon are in formation with us. We’ll take care of the Dragon problem. Galahad out.”

  Ann looked over toward Amanda. “They should be on a reciprocal course to ours. When they get close I want to transmit everything we have, including the attempt to smuggle on board the Revenge and the bomb they tried to load.”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” Amanda said from the helm position. She started compiling the message before she spoke again. “I hope they get there in time.”

  “So do I, Mandy. So do I.” Ann stood and stretched her back muscles. “Let me know when they get close enough to speak to real-time. You have the con. What is your estimated time till contact?”

  Mandy did some calculations, then shook her head. “Four and a half days, Ma’am.”

  “Damn,” Ann muttered.

  It was just four days before the trio of destroyers were in range. Ann sent her information and again addressed Captain Delany. “That’s everything we have. Be careful with your crew, Captain. Those are not civilized people.”

  “Understood, Admiral. God Speed on your voyage. Delany out.” The ships never came within optical range, but Ann imagined that she could see the three sleek shapes blasting through space anyway.

  It took another five days to reach Maori orbit, and they were directed to the Zefram Engels Ship Yard to deliver the parts. There was little fuss made about it. The liner’s passengers had been emptied onto another ship to continue their cruise nearly a month before, and the liner itself was now receiving a major overhaul due to the premature failure of the coils that made hyperspace travel possible.

  The Admiral Ann’s Revenge was directed to the commercial spaceport and refueled, and then Ann applied for another cargo.

  Chapter 12

  THE TOWER APARTMENT IN GALWAY ECHOED with the sound of a glass shattering against the fireplace. “What now?” asked the woman in a bored tone.

  “We lost the Erin shipyard in the Dragon System.”

  “Saints preserve us,” she muttered. “How could we lose a whole shipyard?”

  “I don’t have all the details yet, but apparently Allan O’Reordan tried to finish off the Jolly Jane survivors and started a fight with the company.”

  “We can recover. We’ll just have to regain control.”

  He shook his head. “You misunderstand. It’s gone. Allan tried to use a bomb on them. A big enough bomb that it would have left no trace even if it exploded in normal space. A big enough bomb that the Green Dragon Eight spacedock was completely destroyed. We have no people left in the Erin Combine’s Dragon facility. They are all dead. The rest of the Erin Combine facilities all over the Confederacy have begun actions to dismiss our people.”

  “What is it about that miserable little ship and her crew that turns everything against us?”

  *

  “I just found out something interesting,” Sterling said as he entered the Revenge’s control room. “Our old friends at Amberson’s own a controlling interest in Dragon.”

  “What are you thinking?” Denise asked.

  “I’m thinking that we’d do well to contact someone about some unrelated incidents that may not be unrelated. That bar-fight you were involved in. The bomb in Dragon. Some other strange occurrences. I think Amberson’s is annoyed with us.”

  Denise reached up and rubbed her arm. “You think they could be after us?”

  “I think so. I also think Ann needs to be told, and I’
m doing that next. I already warned Olaf not to let anyone onto the ship.” Sterling went to find Ann, and told her what he thought was going on.

  Ann listened quietly, then nodded. “Sterling, tell the crew that we’re headed for Atlanta. We’ll see if there’s a cargo going that way, but I’ll run dry if I have to.”

  “Ann?”

  “I have to talk to Andy.” And that was all she’d say about her reasons.

  The ship left port nine hours later with a shipment of assorted goods from six different companies. It was still just eleven thousand tons, but it would be a break-even trip, not a losing one.

  The ship and crew were quiet on the seventeen day transit, and Ann kept to herself most of the time. Even Sterling had a hard time getting her to talk.

  The Admiral Ann’s Revenge arrived in orbit around the planet Atlanta and Ann left everyone aboard as she caught a commuter shuttle to the surface. She’d radioed ahead and was met by a government limousine. The driver didn’t say much beyond, “I’m here to take you to the secretary’s office,” and she simply remained silent the whole time.

  Secretary of Commerce Andrew Fairmont looked up as his office door opened, then all but catapulted out of his chair to embrace his baby sister. “Annie, it’s so good to see you! Mom sent me a letter about what you two did in Hobson’s orbit. What kind of trouble are you in this time?”

  “Andy, we need to talk privately,” Ann said as she eased back from her brother.

  “Annie, what did you do this time?”

  “Not me, Andy. Sterling and two members of our crew.”

  Andrew looked at her before turning to the people sitting around his desk. “We’ll continue this at a later date.” All of them, government staffers with years of experience, immediately stood and left the room. “Over here, Annie.”

  Ann sat in the indicated chair and accepted an iced glass of whiskey from her brother. Once he was sitting in the facing chair, she told the story as fully as she knew it.

  Andrew nodded. “I had heard most of that from Justice. They think Amberson’s is deeply involved in organized crime. The New Erin mob.”